So I Heard the Rumors


The ocean foam gently tickled their feet as it popped against their skin. The water washed the sand around their feet, slowly burying them alive. The two seemed all the more encouraged by the ocean to squeeze the sand in between their toes. On the toppling waves the swans crooned their love songs to one another as they did every morning. Next to them swam the gulls that were ready to jump on any opportunistic meal presented to them. With their beady black eyes, the gulls over the Asgardians since the people had become accustomed to feeding the little wenches and beggars.

Loki sat on the beach, only partially dressed. The warm ocean breeze and Sigyn's delicate fingers had beckoned him to remove several layers of his clothes; he highly suspected that Sigyn's fingers had more to do with his disheveled appearance than the wind. He didn't mind. The feeling of her soft, cool, and nimble fingers brushing against his fiery skin always sent a wave of mischief through his veins. His mouth would curl into that particular smirk of you-should-know-better, we-shouldn't-be-doing-this, and what-would-Theoric-say-if-they-found-you-with-me-like-this as she stripped him down to nothing but his chocolate pants, which were rolled up to avoid the water. The rest of the trickster's attire was scattered carelessly across the beach. He would always smile end up smiling, like he did now, with his chin resting on her left shoulder.

Sigyn was sat in between his legs with her arms in twined with Loki's; their fingers meshed together in ways she knew went beyond the bounds of their relationship. She did not dwell on those thoughts for they only brought more sadness to her already tired bones. So she pressed her nearly bare back to Loki's chest. Only small slivers of her baby grass grebe dress covered her left shoulder blade and the small of her back. Tiny, golden flowers were weaved onto the trimming; they had been placed there by Loki to match her floral crown. The tips of the short, summer dressed were already fading from the ocean. With each pulse of the ocean, Sigyn's Irish red hair would wash over the sand and then be pulled back to the depths of the ocean. Pieces of that red hair clung to her soft, doll face.

"And so Fandral stole a kiss from Sif," Loki finished. Sigyn was giggling underneath him like a child. Well, she still was a child. Slender, gangly, and graceful, Sigyn still lacked those feminine curves, tender breasts, and woman's scorn. Loki was grateful that she had remained a child for so long; he cared not to deal with another woman going into puberty. Dealing with Sif had been rough enough on all of them. Frigga and Odin considered all five of them a miracle that no one had died during those hormone throbbing days. He could not imagine Sigyn turning as spiteful as Sif. Sigyn was much too sweet and gentle to ever be as bold as Sif, but he didn't want to take the chance. Women were a strange breed…

Loki dreaded the day she became a woman because she would no longer be the free nymph she was now. Men would be swooning for her attention; well, some already were. Sigyn was an exotic beauty in Asgard. She was fragile, much too fragile for her own good. He knew her bones to be brittle like the seashells they had stepped on the beach. Simple falls had caused her to break her bones and go to the healers. If she did not eat, she became prone to fainting. On days when the north wind blew, Sigyn would shake uncontrollably. She always had this hungry look to her yellow wolf eyes. No matter how much she ate, she always looked hungry, starving. She had little meat on her bones. The sadness in her bones seeped through her thin, light sun kissed skin. It hung around her like a puppy. He had wondered one more than one occasion if the sadness weren't the cause for her thin, sickly body.

"Sif should listen more to you, Loki," Sigyn answered. Her voice was different than those of the Aesir clan. Like most of the Vanir, her voice was deeper, huskier, and came out more like growls than actual words. He knew that her accent to be stronger, but while in his presence, Sigyn made an effort to speak with more of an Aesir dialect so he could understand her. But there were days when she would forget and ramble off in the Vanir dialect. Loki would be more lost than a colt separated from his mother. "She is much to masculine though. I feel she is ashamed to have been born a woman. Thor should make a woman out of her."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What would Sigyn know of womanhood?" His voice was playful and taunting. He watched as she flushed as red as her hair beneath him. She darted her eyes to him before looking at the sand. She bit her fat, lower lip as she did whenever he teased her. The mischievous leaned his head closer to hers. "Would Njord's dearest daughter not be pure? That would mean she would be a harlot, no?" His words were smooth and too endearing to be taken as an insult. She was holding back a fit of giggles. Already he could feel her chest beginning to shake with laughter. His heart felt light as the air they breathed. "Of course, that would mean the man who slept with her would be her husband already. All he would have to do to make it official would be to pay her father and give her a gift of the grandest scale."

Sigyn twisted her head. There was hesitation in her eyes, while Loki looked at her with those taunting green eyes. He was teasing her and playing her for all the joke was worth. The girl's heart was fluttering in her chest. She held her mouth slightly apart, but Loki knew no words would come from her mouth. He had seen this look many times before. Those large, wolf eyes would stare at him with wonder, want, and sadness; she would clench his hands tighter; Sigyn's breathing would become shallow, almost panicked. Loki freed his hands from her grip.

She looked at the golden ring on his little finger. Loki had never been one to wear rings or any form of accessories. He needed the room to carry his daggers and other trickery into battle. The ring appeared to be made of yet not. The numerous bands seemed to be made of billions of microscopic, yellow diamonds. In the early sunlight, different colors came out from them. She held her breath, wondering if the ring held the essence of a thousand splendid suns. The ring was composed of hundreds of hair-thin threads. They had been weaved together in a tight, Celtic knot. Depending on the angle of the ring, she saw the Trinity, Dara, Quaternary, or Five Fold symbol.

"Beautiful, no?" Loki inquired. He carefully held the ring so that the sunlight could dance off and through the ring and light up all the strands. "The dwarves make the finest blacksmiths. Their creations make those of Asgard look like nothing special. This though, this is the crowning of their creations."

"I wondered where you had disappeared for all those moons, Loki," Sigyn admitted.

"Did you worry?" the god inquired.

"No," she replied. "I worry more for Thor wandering on his own than you. You have your magic and mind. Even if you were falling off into space you would find a way to save yourself. You are resourceful. For that I am glad because I needn't ever worry of you."

Loki was the one to chuckle at the compliment. His eyes flirted with hers for a few fleeting seconds afterwards. He slid the ring onto Sigyn's ring finger. She caught her breath. She felt her heart jump erratically in her chest. Loki saw the sadness cling to her eyes the longer she stared so fondly at the ring. Then she looked to him. His emerald eyes were still light, teasing, and warm.

Still, she remained silent.

He knew what she waited to hear. The trickster saw the hurt; he too felt a pang of that hurt in his chest. It wasn't sharp, not anymore, but the hurt was still there between his ribs. Loki blinked slowly and wiped himself clean. "Forgive me, Sigyn, I do not mean to insult your engagement to Theoric. I mean this as a simple joke to Sif," he explained a little too happily. The happiness in his voice was not genuine. Sigyn could hear the strain in his voice. "She will be envious of you, as with the rest of Asgard. I look forward to seeing her reaction to such a beauty this evening."

Relief washed over the young girl. Sigyn nodded as she accepted her part in the joke too easily. She resumed her normal breathing and relaxed stature. Loki regretfully felt relief as she leaned against him. He braced himself with his hands at either side. Sigyn pressed her cheek to his face. Through content eyes, he watched as she played the sunlight so she could gain the desire glow off of the ring. A tender smirk sprouted upon his lips. Indeed all of Asgard would be hungry for a look at the ring. A gift of this magnitude would put any other gift to shame. Loki felt proud of himself with the knowledge that any gift Theoric would give to Sigyn could never rival this. He only swelled with more pride. This would be his greatest insult to the warrior. Loki only hoped Theoric would be half as smart as Thor to realize the insult.

The insult lessened the hurt he felt, the anger towards Njord, and the chaos that had been brewing inside of him since he learned of Sigyn's engagement.

The ring only increased his hunger, his greed, and his desire to make her his and his alone.

"So," Loki began in that smooth, rolling, hypothetical voice. Sigyn's hair brushed against him as she looked up to him. He was smirking and scheming up another plot to expose the girl's weakness in a kind, gentle fashion that he only did for her. He would never spare Sigyn of his trickery but merely twist his words in a way that would never harm her. "If I were to fall into the heavens below us, would you follow me?"


A/N: Fun little one-shot unless people think I should continue it. :)