"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players." – William Shakespeare
Boundless bards have retold the stories of star crossed lovers before, of two young hearts who try to control their fate, but it is indeed fate that controls them. The threads of fate spun by the Three have been spun and spun again; the pattern is the same. The story has been told again and again, and the two lovers and the loved ones around them live through it each time, over and over.
Though Odin All-Father sees all with his one eye, he does not see the many incarnations of Asgard before, or the many laid out after Ragnarok. It is a continuous cycle, a never-ending spool of thread. Despite this, he sees everything else before it happens, and has seen the story of lovers play out many times across his mind. He knows exactly what will happen, when it will happen, and all possibilities if another path is chosen. He knows there is no other way around it, when his son Loki falls in love.
Delling stretched his fingers as he stood on the starry coast of Asgard in his pink and yellow robes. The rosy light of dawn came out from his hands. Before him, the colossal golden buildings sparkled and gleamed in his good light, and he was pleased. Behind him, his young teenage son, Dagr stretched with a yawn and rubbed his eyes. His golden hair was still a mess and his father ran a hand through it to tame it.
"I am ready to assume my duties for the day, father," Dagr tried to hide the tiredness in his voice.
"Alright then, I'll be at Breidablik," Delling smiled at his son through his helmet, "You'll wake up soon enough and be as bright as mid-day."
Dagr stretched again as his father walked across the beach to Balder's golden hall. The morning light strengthened with every waking stretch and yawn Dagr let out. It filled Asgard with a fresh new day that eventually woke up even the heaviest sleeper with its light.
In the valley of Asgard was one of the biggest gardens in the kingdom. It nestled at the foot of a mountain directly west of Odin's hall, Valaskjálf. There was only one entrance to the garden, which was through Freyr's hall, connected to the grand Valaskjálf. The dirt path was well trodden by Freyr, and it parted the hedges on either side. The path led down into a maze of rose bushes and smaller hedges which branched off into the orchards and gardens of Freyr's labor. In the center of the maze was a large fountain with a statue of a stag leaping from the waters. The stag was so majestic and pure in its marble state. Loki often felt safe here at the fountain. It was one of his favorite places to be in Asgard.
He sat on the edge of the fountain reading a book he got from his father's library. His father enjoyed mortal literature from Midgard, and tried to collect copies of some of the greatest works in Midgard. Loki enjoyed Shakespeare himself, especially Macbeth and Twelfth Night. He loved how chaotic things wound up and how disarrayed things became afterwards. Today he decided to read As You Like It for the third time.
His brother often mocked him for spending most of his time reading in Freyr's garden instead of training. Thor loved playing with the soldier's weapons and weightlifting at the training grounds. Loki just wasn't interested in that stuff. Plus Loki was a couple years younger than Thor, who was almost a teenager. Of course he wouldn't be interested in that subject. He loved to read.
Loki gazed up from his book for a moment to admire the Asgardian skies above him. It was getting lighter and the dust clouds in the cosmos were changing from dark blue hues to gold and pink. It was a beautiful sight. The young prince smiled and turned back to his book to find a figure standing at the edge of the bushes in front of him. It was a girl about his age in a long blue dress with sleeves. She was barefoot but wore a silver anklet around her left leg. Her long wavy blonde hair almost reached her knees, and was pulled back into a loose braid. She stared at him with playful green eyes but the neutral look on her face told him different.
"Um… hello?" he called to her, unsure of exactly what to say.
"What are you doing in my uncle's garden?" she asked agitatedly.
"Reading, as you can see," Loki stood up as she walked up to him with her chin in the air.
"Who are you?" she demanded as she came up to him, meeting him below his eye level. He wasn't so afraid of her now.
"Prince Loki Odinson," he muttered, and a look of shock and regret crossed the girl's face.
"I'm terribly sorry! I did not realize who you were!" she cried as she dropped to her knees at his feet. He sighed and bent down to pull her up. He never liked being treated so superior, although sometimes it was nice, but this was a reason why he couldn't have friends.
"Don't apologize, I don't blame you," he told her when she straightened up, "Are you Freya's daughter?"
Another hurt look appeared on the girl's face. "Sigyn, third of Freya's spawn, and least favored," she curtsied as if she was bowing to Odin himself, despite the sadness in her voice.
Loki gazed at her sympathetically. He too felt the pangs of favoritism. Both he and Thor were born to be King, but only one may reign. Each had equal chance but Odin seemed to spend more time with Thor, which often made Loki jealous.
He fingered the pages of his book nervously, "I understand… I am often overlooked and left out, lesser than my brother."
"Mother, she favors my two sisters because they're much prettier than me, so she gives them everything and I have nothing to show for myself," Sigyn looked away to quell the tears.
Loki remembers seeing Freya and her two daughters at banquets in Valaskjálf, which is a perfect example of how Sigyn was never included. The three were very pretty but Sigyn was nonetheless just as beautiful.
"I don't think you are any less than they are combined. Personally, I think your name is prettier as well, better than Hnoss and Gersemi," he told her sincerely.
"Really?" she peered at him and flushed slightly when she met his gaze, "Well, Uncle Freyr named me that."
"They're just jealous of your name," Loki smiled, which made her grin as well.
"Sigyn! Breakfast is ready!" a man's sing-song voice called from the orchard to the left. Both the children stopped and looked in that direction. The wind blew through the trees of the orchard in the distance, over the hill of the hedges in the maze.
"I better go, Uncle Freyr doesn't like waiting," she said shyly before peering sadly up at Loki, "Will you be here tomorrow?"
"Same place, after breakfast if you'd like."
"That would be nice. We can play tomorrow," Sigyn seemed a bit happier about the departure. She waved as she disappeared into the hedges, and Loki waved back, watching her as she skipped through the maze, her blonde hair bobbing behind her. Loki turned and clutched his book to his chest tightly, like a stuffed animal. A different smile appeared upon his face. It was a satisfied, mischievous, child-like smile. Loki knew deep inside he had made a friend for life.
To be continued...