The Beard

"I wonder what you'd look like with a beard."

The statement was casual; the effect was not.

Loki, who had been standing at the table stirring his potion, froze mid stir.

No longer hearing the soft scraping of the stirring rod against the cauldron, Sigyn looked up from her book to the blank face of her husband.

Thor, who had been quietly passing by the table the couple occupied with a tankard of ale in hand, immediately jumped in before his brother could respond. "Sigyn, that is a deep dark hole you do not want to go down."

"What, the beard?"

"The beard," Thor replied, pantomiming it as he spoke.

Loki, who did not desire to dwell on the topic, quickly added his own piece in hope of providing an end to the conversation. "It is not a deep dark hole. It is a merely shallow pothole in the road of life. Less than inch deep. So small it's on the bottom of the list for repair; easy to simply swerve around, making it rather insignificant to me, therefore making it unimportant to you."

Undeterred by her husband's long winded evasion, Sigyn countered, "I'm not saying it is important. I simply think it's a curiosity, a fascination - a pothole with something shiny in it."

Thor spoke up, "Yes, shiny. Like a hairless head."

"Hairless head? Only hairless chin," Loki corrected.

Sigyn turned to Thor elaborated. "And hairless arms, hairless chest, but not a hairless-"

"Enough," Loki said, his face going from white to pink to red in an instant.

She turned to her brother by marriage and invited him to sit. "What is the deal with the beard?" she asked as he sat with a heavy thud.

"Thor, no."

"Thor, yes."

The blonde prince looked back and forth between the two sorcerers and said, "I'm going to admit being a little afraid of your wife and answer her question because she knows where I sleep."

"I know where you sleep," Loki reminded.

"You know where I sleep?"

"Everyone knows where you sleep."

Unfortunately for Loki, Thor simply shrugged and began to share his facial hair misfortune to Sigyn. Fortunately, the misfortune was only summed up in a five word statement.

"Loki cannot grow a beard."

"Cannot?"

"Cannot."

Feeling miffed, Loki challenged, "Who's to say I've even tried? I'm sure I could."

Thor gave a soft chuckle. "Unless you are still pubescent, there is no beard in your future."

Sigyn piped up, "He could buy one."

"Buy one?"

"Buy one, yes. I heard the dwarves crafted Lady Sif's dark hair. They could make you a beard."

Thor gave Loki a strange look. "Did you tell her the full account of that incident?"

Loki turned back to his wife and quickly said, "I will not buy a beard."

"Will not?"

"Cannot."

Sigyn pondered for a moment. "Have you seen a healer?"

Loki said, "Yes." Thor said, "Many." And Sigyn said, "Huh."

Loki told his wife, "They found nothing wrong."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

"And yet, no beard," Thor added.

"There is obviously something wrong then." She paused. "Unless..."

"Unless?"

"Unless you weren't designed to have a beard."

It took all of five seconds for Loki to understand what she meant. "I am male."

"Yes. And while my gender preferences are not as rigid, my sexual proclivities are grateful for you having the typical genitalia associated with men, but androgyny -"

Loki's response was hurried and harsh. "I would know if I were androgynous."

"Dear, there's no need for aggression."

"Aggression?"

"Yes, aggression. It'd be perfectly alright. I'd still love you just the same."

"But I'm not."

Before Sigyn could turn Loki's declarative sentence into her own interrogative, Thor, who had been deep in considerative thought, suddenly stated as if uncovering some great truth, "Frost Giants don't have beards."

"Frost Giants?" they questioned.

"Aye, Frost Giants."

They all paused and mulled the idea over in their heads - the possibility and various repercussions of Loki being a Jotun.

There was a collective, "Nah."

Sigyn went back to her book and Loki to his potion work. Thor took a long drink of his ale, and they all went about their business in contemplative silence.

Thor then broke the silence by offering one last suggestion. "We could draw you a beard."