If there was any single thought to which the myriad of swirling concepts that filled the mind of Loki, Prince of Asgard and son of Odin, it might have been 'why must I suffer this indignity?'

Only that morning, he had been called to Father's presence. He had not known at the time what Odin had wished to talk about but Loki had presumed that it would be some matter of state that he wished his son to observe or an opportunity to display the sharpness of his wits. When he had entered the throne room, it had been empty aside from Father's familiar figure and Loki had dared to hope that it was a chance to, perhaps, discuss matters with Odin alone or, perhaps, to learn some lesson that his father saw fit to give to him and not to Thor. He should have known better although, in one respect, he had proven himself quite correct. It had been a lesson for him alone and not for Thor.

In the Allfather's perfect judgement, he had determined that it was time for the younger son to take a bride. It took no great wit and certainly not the sharp mind that Fate had gifted to Loki to see just why Thor had not been granted this great honour. However, in this one instance, he would not have objected to allowing his brother the chance to be the first – or, preferably the last – to be so honoured. Loki had no wish to be wedded to any of the highborn ladies of Asgard. There was Sif, perhaps, but he did not plan on enduring her sharp tongue for all time. Beyond her, there was Amora or Skadi, but neither would he court nor would they suffer his suit should he press it.

No... Perhaps Thor would be satisfied with an empty headed blonde woman, who thought of nothing more than weaving and knew no more of sorcery or Loki's other pleasures than they did of war. Loki would not. And yet, unless he could find a way to squirm out of Father's command, that would be his fate. Naturally, Loki had done his utmost to persuade Odin that he was not ready for marriage as it was, as he was. He had used the most persuasive arguments that he could call upon, but Father had refused to relent. It was time he said that his son wed, as he had. Normally, Loki would have taken that as a victory in his war to be Odin's favoured son, but he was too... discomposed to take even that solace.

That had been the course of events that led him to his current state. Garbed in his usual robes of green and black, Loki had swept silently through the halls of the Realm Eternal, his destination the chambers of the one person he hoped might be able to persuade Father otherwise – Frigga. His mother. That was how he justified it to himself, at least, because the notion that his reaction to this had been to run to Mother was not one he wished Thor or any of the others to learn. He would never hear the end of it from his brother, or his friends. No, Mother was his best hope of persuading Father to change his mind and that was all. If this failed, he would find another way of solving his problem.

As he approached, the two soldiers standing to either side straightened to attention, before swinging the twin doors open to allow him entrance. "Mother," Loki greeted, softly as was his want, his expression neutral, reflecting nothing of his thoughts. "May I ask for a little of your counsel?"


Though she had not been expecting her younger son's arrival, it had not come as much of a surprise. She and Odin had long discussed the topic of their sons' marriages, debating the issue of what to do with Thor and Loki. Both of her sons posed different challenges when it came to the subject, but Loki with his quiet and sometimes mischievous ways had caused Frigga to worry the most. She did not think he would take so kindly to the news, and while Thor would still probably refuse any kind of push towards marriage, Frigga worried Loki would just resent it.

Yet, if he did understand why the decision had to be made, then she knew it would be good for him. She knew he was often by himself, alienated from Thor and his friends just by nature alone. He preferred his knowledge and his sorcery to their brawling and hunting, and that left him somewhat of the outcast and caused his mother to worry for him. A woman would be good for him, if he could find solace with her. A wife would be a companion; there to bring him out of his quiet and provide him with what he needed without his having to follow Thor into troubles he did not seek. She firmly believed a wife would be good for her younger son, if only he would open himself up to the idea.

He gave no outward signs of distress when he entered, his face calm, controlled and neutral as it normally was. She smiled softly at him, nodded so the women that had been sewing with her would know to leave so he could speak in confidence. Only one dark haired girl stayed, quietly working on her project and acting as if she were not there. Frigga glanced her direction for a moment; used to Sigyn's constant presence, though she was not normally focusing so much on her work that it seemed she would wish to disappear, before turning her soft gaze back to her son. She would worry about her handmaiden's discomfort once her son was satisfied with her counsel.

"What troubles you, Loki?" she asked in a soft, comforting tone.


Loki paused as Mother smiled at him, waiting at the threshold as she motioned for the women – girls – who attended her to leave them. His eyes swept over them one by one, dismissing each in her turn as just as unworthy as the next. Each was yet another example of Asgardian 'womanhood', each interested in nothing more than the gossip they shared and the weaving set before them. If this was what his father expected... no... intended for him to wed, then Loki was sorely tempted to cast himself off the Bifrost and save himself from the fate awaiting him. Well, an illusion of himself at the least. There was no chance that Loki Odinson would end himself over anything as petty as empty headed women. No... he would not give them the satisfaction.

Say what he would about them, but they were well trained dogs, obedient to their master's will. It took mere seconds before they had cleared the room, leaving Loki and his mother alone at last. Well, all but alone, he conceded silently in his mind, having readily marked the lone handmaid still at her stool, head bowed over whatever little web she was weaving. But, beyond the bare fact of her existence, he did not give her a thought. There was always one of them at Mother's side, her guardian from sorcerers and poisoners just as the guards outside protected her from more mundane threats such as cold steel. Loki, a master of sorcery himself, barely noticed them anymore. After all, he loved Mother dearly, just as much as he loved Father, and he could not see any future where he would wish either harm. But, should he wish them dead, no girl-child fresh from the school of sorcery would stop him. Still, tradition was tradition and tradition in Asgard was almost as binding as law or the will of Odin Allfather.

Loki was shaken from his dark thoughts as Mother asked softly what troubled him and his eyes snapped back to her. Normally, at this point, he would have taken a seat, but the younger Prince preferred to stand this time, although he resisted the urge to pace up and down. Instead, he took several steps closer, his head slightly bowed, keeping his eyes on Frigga as he approached. "It's Father," he began, and then was forced to pause as emotion twisted in his chest.

Loki took a deep breath, his lips curling down slightly, hurt flashing across his features for an instant before he reasserted his control. "In his infinite wisdom, he has decided that it is time for me to... marry." From another, such words could only sound sarcastic but Loki meant every word – so far as he was concerned, Odin was wise and often knew what was best for his sons and his kingdom alike. This was the first time he had had cause to question that in his own mind.

"I had hoped that you would be able to persuade him to..." he paused, as if searching for words. "Change his mind." Hope flickered in his dark eyes.


It wasn't difficult for her to tell that her son was deeply troubled, having learned to distinguish his mannerisms a long time ago. To the untrained eye, he would have seemed the normal Loki, but she knew by the way he held himself that there was trouble in his mind. He did not take a seat and his eyes did not leave her face, as if he were searching for answers there before even speaking a word.

It was only when he started to speak that she saw the real emotion break across his face. He paused, breathed deeply and smoothed the hurt away but she had seen it. There was no need for him to feel such turmoil over the idea of marriage, but then with Loki it always went deeper than the issue on the surface. She did not know what was really flashing through his mind, and she was aware that she more than likely never would. She would just trust her son to tell her what he needed help with and she would do her best for him, as she had always done.

She stood as he spoke, cut the distance between them so she was only an arms length away. She saw the hope in his eyes, and she wanted to tell him she would talk to his Father. She wanted to tell him it would all be alright and that he could just go back to his library and his solitude and she would handle anything that was troubling him, as if he were still a little boy. Yet, she knew she could not do that. Loki was a man, and as a man he had responsibilities to Asgard and to himself.

"Loki, there is wisdom in this. There is wisdom in a match. Your Father would not make the decision lightly, nor would I stand by it if he had. Where do your reservations come from, if you wish your Father swayed?"

She had her guesses. Loki himself had not chosen the path, and therefore would try to make it work on his own terms. It may come from Thor, if Loki had spoken to his brother, but she did not know if that was the case. She just knew the pain she saw in his face, and the hopefully look in his eyes as he had asked for her help had torn at her heart, when she knew she would not be helping him in this except to guide him in his choice.


Loki readily marked the manner in which Mother stood as he spoke, that alone sending a stabbing sense of disappointment flickering through his body. He would never admit it, not to himself let alone to anyone else in all the world, but his first instinct had brought him running to his Mother, seeking for her to make everything right again, just as she had in his younger years when she had smoothed away his hurt and his pain so many times. Thor might have been independent from a young age, but Loki had always sought the approval of both of his parents in equal measure. He had often sought the company of one or the other, knowing that they would not shun him as almost all others did – save Thor, but Thor was all too often to be found in the company of his 'friends' and he could only stand the scorn they showed him for so long.

Now, stood before Frigga, less than an arm's length apart, Loki's eyes flickered with hurt again. He was too wise and too knowing to miss the signals and he silently cursed the instinct that had brought him here. However, he was committed now and he smoothed the emotion away before it could be seen. Still, he could not help the slight stiffening of his body nor the sense that he had already lost. Of course Father had spoken to Mother beforehand. His sole ally, gone before he had a chance. But he was a Prince. His chin rose slightly, preparing for the verbal blow he thoroughly expected to follow. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps he had misjudged the signals. Perhaps he could still hope...?

Cautiously, Loki listened to his mother's words, his eyes searching hers for whatever emotions she might have. He had already forgotten that they were not alone, the lone handmaiden lost in the sheer wrongness of the situation, the urge to simply shriek out that he was not ready, that he knew of no woman he wished to marry, that he did not see why he should be the one to surrender his freedom while Thor and his friends ran amuck all across the nine worlds on one useless, futile, childish jaunt after the other. But he kept his bitterness bottled inside of him, letting the reasonable words of Mother wash over him, knowing that he had no chance of convincing either with spite – but perhaps with patience and words.

Of course, his instinct was to dissemble, to hide his real motives. But he knew that would be a mistake. Truth was his greatest weapon here and he planned to wield it as a dagger, insofar as he dared. But Loki could not hide the hurt and pain that filled him. "Mother, I..." he paused. "I do not feel the time is yet right for me to take a wife. Nor do those who Father named fill me with great longing for the state of matrimony. If I must take a wife, why can it not be in the fullness of time when I have found a woman who I wish to marry – in my own time for my own reasons?"


"Loki," she said fondly, hearing the reason in his voice and knowing he was using much self-control in this. He was a quiet child, a quiet man, but when his emotions ran high they would break free and then he was not easy to deal with. She was glad he was tempering them for now, and gently she reached out and pulled him into a hug, "This is not meant to be something you are forced into or something you are not ready for. This is no punishment. I know you are ready for this step in your life, and I know you will find happiness in it. You will not be forced into marriage with a woman you do not for, as if it were a prison. That I will not allow."

Though her words were soft, she hoped he heard the assurance and determination behind them. Despite any woman Odin thought a good match, the choice would go to Loki and Loki alone. He would be content in his choice, even if he felt they were rushing him towards it.

Marriage was not something she felt one could truly be ready to face, since it was made up of the unknown. It was his strength, his adaptability, and his maturity that Frigga saw as the marks of a man fully grown, and that was part of the reason her younger son was approached first with the subject. Though Thor was older, he still acted as if he was a rash child, and that was not a mark of a man ready to be with a woman. She wondered if Odin had explained that to their youngest son, thinking he would find solace in the fact that he was being trusted with this, rather than punished.

She stepped back again, letting him free from her arms, "There is no punishment or shame in this. It is a mark of your strengths. Now, come sit," she said, taking him by the arm and guiding him to a chair where she pushed him down gently. It was not an end to the conversation, but he was not going to sway her in this decision. She would rather they discuss his options than the futile hope that he seemed to have that this would not occur.

Taking her seat across from him, she gave him another fond smile, "Tell me what maidens your Father suggested to you, and perhaps we shall find in that more likeable options."


At the sound of Mother's voice, Loki's hope flared anew, something in her tone persuading him that his appeal had reached her. There was fondness present, and he dared to believe that perhaps this would not end with his freedom torn from him and his days spend lashed to a foolish woman that he had no wish to even grace with a moment of his time. That hope burnt stronger as Mother pulled him into an embrace, which he relaxed into, certain now that he was about to be assured that all would be well, that he would be able to return to his life as it was and as it should be.

As ever, though, his hopes were destined to be disappointed. Mother assured him that it was not something he was meant to be forced into, that it was not a punishment of any sort. But it was. It was a chain set around his neck, a weight that bound him down to earth when he would rather soar above it. Admittedly, he listened quietly to Mother's words with all of the respect that he had for both his parents, but nothing she had to say was what he wanted to hear. His shoulders stiffened and he stood, tensed, with her arms around him. That was, at least, until the end, when she assured him that he would not be forced into a prison, that she would not allow it. Then Loki embraced Frigga in return, resting his head on her shoulder and wishing in his heart that it was as simple as her wiping all of this away.

Cold reality returned soon enough however. It was tempting, again, to declare that it was a punishment, to act the child in the hopes that it would persuade them that he was not ready, but Loki knew his parents too well. If he did that, then he would be forced into a marriage he did not want with a woman he did not know and that would be the last choice he would want. No, he had to be calm and reasoned, as much as he wanted to scream. So he remained silent, thoughtful, until Mother released him from her arms, assuring him that it was a mark of his strength that he had been chosen. Loki could not help but take that as her praising him above Thor and his head rose a touch, assuming its more familiar posture for the moment before he was guided into a chair and his mother resumed her seat opposite.

But he scowled darkly as Mother asked which maidens Father had suggested. That had, perhaps, been the part of the conversation he liked the least, and Loki wished he could stand and pace as the memories returned. "'Lady' Sif," the Prince sneered, despite himself, "As if she would ever pay attention to me when Thor remains unwedded. Nor would I want to subject myself to her barbs when her tongue is as sharp as her blade." What had possessed Father to suggest that match would never make sense to Loki. "Then Amora, and while I prize her as a friend, I would not wish to marry her for I do not love her." He named two more, Asgardian maidens both, but they lacked any features that would make them suited for marriage to him, before he shook his head. "'More likeable options', Mother? There are none, I am afraid."

He was resisting to her embrace, and that did warn her that he was going to be resistant to everything she said. If there was one thing her son's had in common it was their stubbornness. Once a thought had gotten into their heads it was all one could do to dislodge it, but she knew that Loki was fighting a losing battle. She just reminded herself it was good for him, and she was calmed when he had hugged her back.


The tenseness returned as he sat down, and she felt he was almost like an animal trapped in a cage yet ready to spring. He wanted to be up and about, moving throughout her rooms or running as far from these halls as he could. She remembered well the fear, but she had not been so opposed to marriage. It had been an honor, but then she had not been raised a Prince of the realm with all the freedom she could imagine. Her sons enjoyed freedoms beyond any most would know, and for that they were lucky.

Yet now, it made it harder for them to understand their obligations, as was present in Loki's refusal to even think of the idea. If pressed, he would probably say he had thought and thought about it, but the truth was he had probably let the image flash through his mind, formed this terrible opinion of being held down, and not allowed a moment of good into that image.

His distaste was amplified by Odin's words, she was sure. She prevented the grimace from crossing her face as Loki pronounced Sif's name, but that was not a name she would have called upon when speaking to her younger son. Sif was beautiful, compassionate and skilled, but there was little love between her and Loki. After all they had done to each other it was a wonder they could even remain in the same room together, and she could easily imagine why Loki was immediately averse to the situation. Truthfully she was shocked just that name hadn't caused Loki's shouting to be heard all the way in her chambers. Amora was a better choice, one she had discussed with Odin. The blonde woman was a friend to Loki, and though she had not seen true evidence of affection beyond that she had thought maybe her son had just kept it hidden.

She just knew there had to be someone that had caught his eye. Even in his words she heard that something was being held back, and she was not sure if it was just by petulant choice at being guided in this situation or if he was embarrassed to say, but she would get him to speak to her about it whether he wanted to or not.

"You mean to tell me that in all of Asgard there is not a woman who has ever caught my son's eye. I am your Mother, Loki. I will not be deceived by you," she smiled at him, kept her tone warm and lightly teasing so that he would not feel like he was being attacked, "Now, tell me so that I may help you in all of this. Make me your ally."


From the moment he had entered the room, Sigyn had wanted to melt away into the shadows, already uncomfortable at the idea of overhearing her Queen's private conversations even if it was something she had done for years. She knew secrets that she had never wanted to know, and though at times it was endearing to see the Queen with her son's there were arguments and conversations one should never be privy to. This was only amplified by the dark haired girl's affection for the younger Prince, though she would never utter a word.

Most of the time she found she did not even think of him. It was not like with other girls, where they yammered of the men they found attractive every moment they could spare. She was a more reserved woman by nature, but even if she had been inclined to share her thoughts they were normally not on the men of Asgard. She had more important things to think of, her education never finished though she had gone through all of her schooling in sorcery. When her Queen did not need her, she found herself in the library, finding the quiet more comforting than the women she had long ignored since she was a young child.

They were foolish, with little vision and little wit, and she wanted to think herself above their company, and then Loki would enter the room and she found her face going hot and her heart beating slightly faster. She would force herself to look away, or she would find herself engrossed in the fine angles of his features or the way his eyes lit up when someone was able to pull a rare smile from him. She had long ago memorized the details, when she was young enough not to care so much for appearances.

It had been easier then to be so engrossed in him, when he was charged with tutoring her in the magic arts. Then she could spend her afternoons with him on occasion, when he would come to her, and in that soft, patient manner of his he would tell her what she needed to change or teach her how to hold her hands. It was never anything too significant, and he had more than likely forgotten her existence, but in those early years she had formed a bond with him that she had not been able to dispel no matter how she told herself she would be happier.

So when he entered his mother's chambers she had wanted to run away with the rest of the girls, and after he had begun to speak she had wanted to go deaf, to never hear the words that were softly spoken between mother and son. She had never thought her feelings would come to anything, but she had not wanted to face the idea of his matrimony while hiding in the corner trying not to look at either Frigga or Loki while also battling back the girlish tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks at the sheer surprise of it all. She bit her lip and breathed deeply; careful not to make a sound while they spoke. If she just focused, this conversation would be done and she would get through it and be able to leave and cry in peace in her own room, woefully bemoaning a fate she was not destined to see. It was just this conversation and then she could beg away with a headache, and the Queen would understand enough to let her go.

Yet, as they spoke of the women he could have interest in she found herself glancing towards them, careful not to catch his eye but entirely curious in what his answers would be. The Lady Sif, though generally kind to Sigyn if they met, was an almost laughable choice when thinking of Loki. Amora would not have a man who was not shining and golden and named Thor, and the others were equally unsuitable. She was torn between relieved that he found no women suitable for marriage and terribly sad that she was among those he scorned. There were so many emotions rushing through her that she had forgotten her sewing in her lap, instead interestedly watching the exchange.


It was very hard, indeed impossible for Loki to see how this was an 'honour' being bestowed upon him. It was the loss of freedom, it was the imposition of someone in his life that he was certain he did not wish to be there. Yes, he understood that his life as a Prince of Asgard came with duties and responsibilities and many of both. But it was all too easy for him to see Thor being allowed to escape those same duties and responsibilities time and again and to question why he was being forced into this cage. If one were to hear his thoughts on his brother, one might easily believe that Loki hated Thor. Nothing could be further from the truth. Except in one particular matter, he wished his brother nothing but good health and every blessing that accompanied it.

Save that one matter.

Of course, now another looked set to divide them. As he spoke the names of the woman Father had suggested, Loki could see the shock in Mother's eyes at the first one he named. And, indeed, Odin's wisdom had failed him in that. If there were anything guaranteed to harden Loki's heart against marriage, it had been the choice of Sif as the first suggestion. He had too much control to shout at Odin, having seen just how that ended for Thor and loving his father too much, but it had not been a good first choice. Amora had been better, but Loki had no wish to wed her either, albeit for different reasons. They were too much alike. The Enchantress had been his childhood partner in much mischief and he valued her friendship and her advice. But he did not wish to make her his wife. Besides, while they might be friends, in the matter of marriage, she had her eyes set on Thor.

Loki wished her and Sif a long and vicious courtship. He would enjoy the spite.

As for the others, the least said the better.

Mother of course had that irritating ability to see through his defences and shields. He might be named Loki the Deceiver behind his back by Thor's 'friends', or Loki Lie-Smith, but he had rarely if ever been able to deceive his mother in any matter. The tone she took, one that reminded him that she still cared for his well-being, aided her too, soothing his hurt and indignation. Still, she did not seem to grasp the full extent of the situation in which he found himself. "Father wishes it to be one of the nobility," Loki told her, managing to keep his voice even and pleasant. Restlessly, his eyes darted around the chamber, rarely resting on anything for long. "And all of the daughters of the nobility are sheep, lacking the wit to be a worthwhile companion for me." He waved a hand elegantly through the air. "Oh, to be sure there are wolves among them – Sif, perhaps, or the Lady Skadi – but I do not think either would suit my disposition." Loki's smile was wintry.

"No, Mother, my choice is between the warrior-princesses or a coterie of witless weavers, lacking even the intelligence of dear Sigyn there." A long finger stabbed out, indicating the aforementioned lady. He remembered her. It had been a while since they had last spoken, the final sorcery lesson he had given her, but Loki still remembered her kindly, if not with affection. But the 'dear' had slipped from his lips unintended, and he looked away quickly. "And so you see, it matters little what I wish. My choices are... somewhat limited."


"Ah," Frigga murmured softly as Loki explained his Father's words. There had been the discussion of Loki's choice and the All-Father had been adamant that his son choose a woman of his station, but she had thought she had worn down his position on the subject. It would be preferred, but Frigga knew her son well enough to be able to guess his dislike of most of the women he was offered. She had hoped for Amora to know his heart, her position and friendship with him both in high standing. Skadi was another choice, though she was less fond of the option. The woman was strong, yes, but her independence was almost overpowering and Frigga found herself worrying for her quiet son in that situation. There was no doubt he could hold his own, but she would prefer a more feminine touch to help bring him out of his own mind instead of drive him towards further exile.

She understood the choice as he saw it and that was why she was so adamantly on his side when it came to finding a bride he would be able to respect. As he gestured through the room, she honestly found herself shocked he even mentioned Sigyn sitting quietly across from them. She turned her head to follow his movement, caught sight of the shock that spread over the young woman's face at his words and then the quickness to hide the blush that spread through her pale cheeks by staring down at the sewing in her lap. Frigga smiled softly, now interested in what her son had meant and intrigued by her handmaiden's reaction.

Turning her gaze back to Loki but keeping Sigyn just at the edge of her vision, she let her small smile fall away for a moment.

"Loki, did I not just promise you that your choice was not so limited? The All-Father has his vision, but your Mother has her own as well," the smile she cast towards him now was fond, the small knowing smile she shared with her sons when she faced their father's will on their behalf and knew she could win. She did not readily go against her husband, but there were matters she understood about her sons far better than he ever could. It was part of being a mother and being there to observe them in all they did from their infancy, "Tell me more of what you expect. Intelligence like that of my Sigyn?"


If anything at all could be said about this conversation, it was that it was rife with shocking news for the young girl. She had been listening, her eyes flickering between the Queen and the Prince while hoping neither would look her way. There had been nothing unexpected in Loki being told to marry within the nobility. That was something she was sure most took for granted. There had been nothing truly unexpected in his opinions of the women mentioned, and she had taken some satisfaction in that though she did not want him to be miserable. Yet, there had been nothing in their words that truly surprised her until those eyes flickered to her and he raised that slender finger in her direction and spoke her name.

He had quickly looked away, and for a moment she was too shocked to move. Her blue eyes had widened, a quick feeling of fear being replaced by a giddy delight that welled up in her chest and spread a blush across her cheeks. He remembered her intelligence, her name, and she had not missed the affectionate term placed before it. She was shocked, yet pleased, a small smile playing across her full lips before she caught the eyes of her Queen on her. Ashamed of her reaction and fearing that Frigga would not look kindly upon it, she turned her attention back to her lap, wishing her hair was not pulled back so that it would fall around her in a curtain to hide the smile that still had not left her face.

Pretending to be occupied now, she listened intently to what was being said, relieved as Frigga did not seem offended by her lack of propriety.


In normal situations, there was very little that escaped Loki's keen eye in a conversation. He would note every word and turn of phrase, every pause and emphasis, every flicker of interest and every concealed blush. It was true that often he would twist it all in his mind to the worst meaning but that did not mean that Loki overlooked any details. He knew how to decipher nearly any expression, any trickery or any falsehood – for who knew the tricks of lying better than a master of the art. Thor might be open and forthcoming, but the dark younger Prince hid his feelings behind masks and deceits and rarely if ever did he simply come forward and state what he felt on any given matter, preferring to see what the others might say before he revealed his counsel.

Of course, this was hardly a common situation and, so, perhaps it was understandable that Loki's usually sharp gaze left Sigyn a moment too soon, before he could see the way her eyes had widened, the blush that spread across her cheeks or the demure way that she had glanced down. Instead, his eyes had returned to Mother, seeking her reaction, before his gaze flickered away in search of anything else on which to fix his attention. So, not only did the Prince miss the girl's reaction, but also that of Frigga. Still, it allowed him to fix the sardonic look of amusement that was his usual expression when he expected to be faced with bad news, as if laughing at the world would blunt the sting of it. Both brothers could be emotional, but while Thor's anger was loud and thunderous as befitted his place, Loki's was equally loud but often marked with tears and sharp words of scorn.

Here and now, he had mastered his emotions and his face was smooth as he looked back to Mother. She assured him that his choice was not so limited and that traitorous hope took hold of his heart again for a moment, before he ignored it. Regardless of what Frigga might say, there were only so many women in Asgard that he could wed, no matter what Odin might permit. Before he was allowed to dwell on that, however, Mother continued, her fond smile drawing a small, uncertain, almost reluctant twitch of the lip from Loki, who wished he could stand and pace.

As he was asked what more he would want from a wife beyond intelligence, the Prince frowned thoughtfully. It was not a topic that he had given much... any thought, as the prospect of marriage had never seemed an imminent one until this day. Intelligence, that was important... What else? "A knowledge of sorcery," he said slowly, "At least an adept. And..." Loki paused, uncertainly, suddenly quite aware of Sigyn's presence off to one side. An old memory came to mind as he sat there, from years before.

It had been during their time at the academy. He had been older, but it was not so large a place that even he was not vaguely aware of how the students treated the one dark haired girl amidst the mass of blondes. He had even vaguely admired her resolve. And then one day, Loki had happened to pass her on his way to the library, her hair dyed blonde to match the rest. He had paused, for a moment, examining it, before he had casually told Sigyn that it suited her better black. The next time they met, her hair was its old shade of raven-black and he had nodded approvingly. It truly did suit her better dark.

He returned to the present, blinking away the memories of the past. "Courage." His eyes flickered to Sigyn again for an instant. "Courage to stand up for what she believes in, rather than simply following the flock mindlessly, as well as to speak her mind. And loyalty." There. He had said it.


Frigga did not bother to hide the wide smile that spread across her face as she noticed Loki's eyes returning to Sigyn as he spoke. Her quiet, secretive son had given his emotions away in that action, despite what she assumed was his wish to keep it all private. Perhaps he was not even aware of the emotion, but Frigga knew enough of these matters that she could recognize it when it was presented to her. His words told much of what he was looking for, of course, but it was his eyes that had given him away.

Sigyn, when Frigga turned her attention to the girl, was still staring at her hands, though the flush of her blush had reached her ears and ran down her neck. There was a tiny smile on her face, a pleased expression Frigga had not seen often on the serious young girl. That there was attraction between them was obvious, and in that moment Frigga decided she was well pleased with such a match.

Sigyn had come to her when she had left the academy, a quiet, pretty young thing that, though not talkative provided a constant companionship that the Queen enjoyed. Perhaps she reminded her of Loki, a dark haired child who only used words when there was something important to say. Though she was not unkind, she did not speak often to the other girls, and Frigga found herself talking to Sigyn when she had sent all the others away. Sigyn stayed, always stayed even when told the Queen did not need her there for protection, and that loyalty was a comfort to her.

She would be good for Loki, if her guess of their feelings was correct. If she acted half as kind and compassionate as his wife, as she did as a protector and friend, then Frigga would be comfortable her son was in good hands. She would speak to Odin, express all of this and make sure he would not stand in the way of such a match, and then she would speak to the girl. To suggest it to Loki would be foolish. He would feel something was being forced upon him all the more and he would turn from the idea even if it were his most cherished wish.

"Those are all admirable qualities in a wife, and I am sure you will find them. Such a woman must exist in all of Asgard," she allowed her gaze to linger on Sigyn for a moment as she said that, hoping he would stop glancing around the room and maybe take notice of the girl's reaction, "But this conversation has agitated you. Let us talk of other things, if you wish, and I will ponder the idea of your courageous young woman."


Sigyn, largely caught up in her own thoughts found herself again glancing up at Loki as he paused in his speech. For half a moment her eyes met his before she looked away again, her mind reeling with what he could mean. He had said she was intelligent, and she was a fine sorceress if she allowed herself that pride, and she would be loyal to him, as she would hope any woman would be to her husband. The courageousness was not something she thought she had, preferring to weather the storm of other people by tempering it with silence and fake smiles while inside she seethed. When faced with physical danger she would defend herself, defend her Queen above all else, but she was not sure that was courage. That was just her duty.

Yet there was no mistaking his eyes had turned to her and she did not know what that meant. She was on uneven ground, knowing she should not be getting her hopes up but not entirely able to rule out that maybe he had been thinking of her as he spoke. It was unlike him to recognize her existence, when normally she was just a feature of the room. Even in their younger days, when they were more equals within the walls of the academy she had not been his friend. Amora occupied his time, and their interactions had been more a forced need of study by their instructors. It had only been one time that he had actually reached out to her in any way, and in that moment he had won her heart though she was loathed to admit it.

She was not the only dark haired woman in all of Asgard, but being dark was uncommon and therefore something other girls found an easy target to pick on. She had taken the abuse in school, learned to be on her own and largely ignore them, but what child did not want to belong with the rest? As she grew older she hid her tears and resentment behind the want to fit in and when she had finally asked her sister for advice, been told to try and change what they picked on. Nanna had helped her find the ingredients and the spell to turn her hair from black to a shimmering gold. She remembered running her hand through her hair, feeling included but almost feeling like it was an empty victory. Nanna's hair was light, but she had been born that way and never teased for it, yet she assured Sigyn this would help. Sigyn had not questioned then that she would not know what it was like. So the next day she had gone to her classes with a smile on her face. The other girls told her how lovely she looked, though none of it was really kind. They liked the new façade, and they liked that she had gone out of her way to please them, but not one of them wished to know her. It had taken a dark haired boy examining her for a moment and telling her he had preferred the black to remind her that she did not need their false friendship. That night she had reversed all of her magic, returning her hair to it's natural state and had ignored her sister's questions or the girls' responses to her change. She would be herself, and if that was not good enough for them it had been good enough for Loki, and that had been enough to sustain her until she had gained enough confidence in herself to not have to rely on her memory of his approving nod.

Yet, she had always looked at that as just being a child. The way her heart would ache for him was just the fancy of a teenage girl, and she had grown beyond that. She had grown beyond that until she suddenly had a hope that he thought kindly of her.


Once he had begun to glance sideways at Sigyn, in what he fondly imagined what a discrete, casual fashion, as when he looked at any other young lady of Asgard, Loki found that he could not readily make himself stop. She seemed to draw his gaze in a way that few others did. Certainly, she was attractive and in the unusual way that Loki preferred – the raven's wing black of her hair was a far more pleasant colour that the honey-blonde of most Asgardian women and for reasons beyond the purely physical. While Sif had come to hers... dishonestly, as it were, and Loki swiftly pushed memories of that day from his mind, Sigyn's was entirely natural and he could not honestly see her without it. Certainly, he remembered how she had looked like as a blonde, but that had been years before and, now, when he tried to imagine it, his mind simply would not show it.

From what he remembered of their lessons together, she was perfectly adept at the science of sorcery as well as being quite intelligent – much more so in her way than even Amora, who tended to turn into a lovesick puppy when his golden brother stepped into the picture and Loki, utterly unaware of any such tendencies in his own character, did not approve of them in others. He did not want a wife who would fawn over his every gesture or whim simply because he was Loki and certainly not when, in time, he would certainly have an entire kingdom of fools to offer him that service. No. And she had the subtlety that had been denied Sif, she whose preferred solution to any problem was the sharp edge of a sword. No.

Loki's thoughts were distracted by Mother's eventual comment and his gaze returned to her before unconsciously following Frigga's glance over at Sigyn for a moment before he ranquil that he was near to betraying himself. Instead, Loki drew himself up in his seat, fixing his eyes on his mother, not daring even another glance at the younger woman now that he thought his interest discovered. "Yes, and I will appreciate your counsel when it comes," the Prince agreed swiftly. "Let us speak of other matters. But... I would ask one thing first." His expression turned pleading. "Do not speak of this to Thor. I would tell my brother in my own time and in my own way." When he could twist the meaning so that it appeared that the marriage was entirely of his choice, was what Loki intended. Then, at least, he would not have to suffer the barbs of his brother's 'friends'.

That said, he let a thin sigh whistle between his teeth, before he relaxed a little, resting back in his chair in an illusion of ranquility. Whatever his appearance, Loki's mind continued to whirl and twist beneath it as he sought for an escape from the trap he could feel closing in about him. At the least, he had not been given a time within which he must find a bride... yet. But it would surely come.

For now, he raised a hand in a gesture of interest. "I hear that the Warriors Three came close to death this last week." A slight, almost malicious smirk played around his lips for a moment. "Apparently there was an incident with Fandral and a certain Queen of the Dark Elves, who decided to take offence at this." As much as he might deride Mother's handmaidens for it, Loki did take a certain, snide pleasure in knowing every last rumour that permeated Asgard – those he had not a hand in starting or maintaining, that was.


She watched as Loki followed her gaze and then very pointedly looked away. She did not make mention of it, and kept her face neutral, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable. She assumed he was placating her for now, but until she could further think on the situation she would not press it with him. He would be taking a wife soon, if she and Odin had their way, but she would give him time to take in the information and give herself time to convince her husband that Loki should be able to choose a wife he would be able to love.

"Thor will not hear a word, Loki, and I will speak to the All-Father. Your news will be yours to share as you see fit," she assured him. She was glad to see him relax, allow himself to lean against the chair instead of acting like he was ready to spring up at a moment's notice. She allowed herself that same luxury; her hands folding in her lap as she listened to him begin to speak.

The topic of conversation pulled a slight frown from her, opposite to his smirk. "Loki, do not take delight in your friends peril," she said firmly, "It was a dangerous situation that they were lucky to get away from. Like most situations my children and their friends find themselves in."

She was not angry, but she was weary of the worry and she did not appreciate the mirth Loki seemed to find in these situations. She watched him carefully, to see if there was any remorse in his face though she did not fully expect it, one eyebrow raised in an expression of expectation for some sort of apology from him.