Hello! This i's going to be LONG, EXTREMELY mixed up, and quite possibly ridiculous. I try to write what I envision in my head, so it will probably make the best sense to me and only me. It sounds better in my head. And I'm hoping it makes some sense to others. It may not.
Anyway, I am new to posting my fanfictions online, as I have hesitated in doing so for the reasons previously explained. I am aware that Sigyn's character and origins (you'll see what I mean) in this story does NOT go along with the Sigyn from the comics. I have really kinda picked little details here-and-there that aid what ideas are in my head. Quite frankly, I chose the name Sigyn purely out of convenience. There will eventually be original characters. The Avengers may make an appearance later on. This could quite possibly be considered an A/U story.
It's not beta-read, or planned out very well for that matter, so there ARE going to be inconsistencies. If nothing makes sense, I apologize.
Feedback is always appreciated! Good or bad, please let me know what you think!
It was a rather uproarious commotion that broke him out of his far-drifting mind. It was the not too unusual, and not at all noteworthy, noise of an irate convict being dragged into an impermeable, glass cell. It was a minor blip in the defending, roaring, silence that enveloped these dimly lit halls. Dimly lit, of course, except for the cells. Cells illuminated by harsh, unnatural, white lights. Glaringly, disturbing lights that almost seem to hum. That never gave him a moments rest, a moments respite in welcomed darkness. Not that he couldn't sleep, as he often did, for hours too long that seemed to melt and flow into nothingness. It might as well have been nothingness. There was no keeping of time; unless one could, however, count on the fact that the intervals at which guards delivered food and drink most likely coincided with the dawn and setting of each seemingly benign, yet deviously ingenious manner of this prison was a perfect breeding ground for madness, to make you come undone.
Not as if it mattered, however. Most in this place were either awaiting trial, or a death sentence. He, on the other hand, fell into neither category. As always, he was a man like no other, and that, that, was the only scrap of any assurance he could hope to hold onto.
There are no men like me.
No, there most certainly wasn't. It was a curse, truly, a bitter, cruel, reality that he could no longer deny. But he refused to acknowledge it as that, preferring to wear it like a badge of honor.
Yes, look at me. The monster. The creature that lurks in shadows and twists lies and truths into one. Fear me, as I am what you hate. Run from me. Lock me away and toss away the key.
Even though he knew it was true.
No, a new prisoner being added to the vault's repertoire of convicts was nothing unusual. Nor was it particularly grand that the guards forced the enraged convict into one of the cells closest to his, only separated be a layer of crystal glass. Glass, of course, and a powerful forcefield of interwoven layers of magic that prevented any possible breeches in security. What was out of the ordinary, however, was the fact of who it was.
A woman. A bloody, fighting, woman, howling oaths at every member of Aesir nobility, cursing even the all-powerful Odin to be ripped apart in very tedious manners. In his time in this wretched glass box, (specific amounts mattered naught.) Loki had not seen a single woman imprisoned here. Now the woman, restrained by no less than six royal guardsmen, was unceremoniously shoved into the chamber adjacent to his like one would shove aside a spitting cat, the glass and magic barriers immediately set in place. The guards briefly paced the area, checking the others prisoners, before making a hasty retreat to their stations. The woman was standing now, rigid and panting, with a dagger poised. In the guards' haste, they must have forgotten to disarm her. Leaning against the far wall of his cell, Loki casually observed her. Dressed in sleek copper armor and a jet-black leather coat that extended to her knees, and strait, golden ochre hair that stopped above her shoulders, she made an interesting sight. Her attire was likened to that of a warrior, or perhaps a spy even. Women of Asgard simply did not dress as such.
Regaining her breath, the woman whipped around, coat flaring out as if to accentuate her fury, and paced the cell. She paused, and Loki watched her score the tip of the dagger along the glass. Ripples of golden energy emanated from its touch, but the glass did not scratch. Cursing once again, she sheathed the blade and cupped her hands to the glass, squinting into the darkness outside. Obviously unable to see much, she stood away from the edge of the cell, carefully observing every nuance of its interior. Muttering under her breath, she shed her coat, following it to the floor to search through its pockets. Underneath her coat she wore a series of belts and straps over a dark gray vest, accented with small amounts of a rusty maroon color. Picking at her coat, she eventually came up with a silvery metal device, small enough to fit in ones palm. Satisfied, she stood and made her way to one of the corners where the glass intersects the wall. Loki was a bit more interested, watching keenly as she fiddled with the device, fingers agile and sure. It glowed blue all of a sudden. Quickly, she pressed it into the junction of glass and stone, ducking her head away. There was a faint click. The woman furrowed her brow in confusion. She tried again, with the same results. She took what appeared to be a pick out of her sleeve, and began poking at the device as if trying to fix it.
"Ma'am, the cell is impenetrable, by both physical and magical means. It would be advised that you did not resist." the voice of one of the guards announced, amplified and reverberating through the cold prison. The woman frowned thinly, stepping back once more and stooped to pick up her cloak. She rustled through the fabric again, and pulled out a gun-like device, bigger this time. It looked as if she was trying to fire the device, and the walls if the cell seemed to react, rippling with golden shockwaves of power. Whatever its intent was, it was not working correctly. The cell had a very effective magic shield. Her mouth twisted into a snarl, and she slung her coat back over her shoulders, glancing around furiously.
She noticed him. Noticed him, and froze, body going rigid. Slowly, she prowled towards the side of her cell that the glass joined with his, stalking forward like a cat.
The rooms they were each in were rectangular, about thirty paces in one direction, ten the other. There was a slight recess in one stone wall with the restroom, for mediocre privacy. Other than a cot, a table, and slight reading material, the small cells were empty. The longest side of Loki's cell was mirroring the longest side of the woman's cell, the entire wall glass. Now, the woman had crouched down to his level, staring intently at him across the room. She tipped her head to the side, thoughtfully.
He stared back unflinchingly. But, although he did not show it, Loki was curious. Of all the things that stood out about the woman, other than the obvious, was the lines of her face. From his distance, Loki couldn't see her face in great detail, but the marks were blatant.
Scars. Ghastly, rippled and slashing mauve scars, coiling from the left side of her jaw around her forehead and down the bridge of her nose. The deep scores circling her left eye, cutting through her brow from top to bottom, so dangerously close to the lids, that Loki was immediately suspicious that the eye itself was a fake. The tears extended down her cheek to her throat, giving a disturbingly hollow impression to one side of her face.
The woman squinted at him, then nodded, backing up once more, and he realized she was smirking as she returned to looking around her cell. Or not. When only the scarred side of her features was visible from his angle, the side of her lip seemed permanently pulled in a snarl.
Groaning slightly, Loki stood, one hand massaging his aching spine as he padded across the room. The woman dropped to the ground, crouching with knife in hand, as if ready to spring. The glass separating their chambers was crystal clear, giving the impression of vulnerability even though there was none.
She kept him pinned with a calculating eye while the god of mischief flicked through some old, ragged tomes. He put his back to the glass, ignoring her. She was of no concern to him.
The woman, however, seemed to think otherwise. Slowly, she stood to her full height. Silently, reticently, Loki was aware of her presence as she approached once more.
The dividers were...odd, to say the least. In reality,they were not glass at all, but shrouds of energy. Impenetrable, yet wafer thin and almost invisible, they allowed unobstructed noise and air currents to pass through. It seemed to be as solid as a wall, but was far from it. Another unnerving aspect of magical prisons.
Loki was much closer to the glass idly flipping through a book, when he felt the woman's stare, like a pressure on his neck. Speculative and ferociously curious, with a predatory, wolf-like intensity. Challenging him. Daring him to make a move
The god of mischief couldn't resist.
He whirled around, simultaneously slamming the book onto the desk with a startling 'whack', and was suddenly face to face with the woman at the barrier, letting his eyes gleam with threat.
In his mind, she would have leapt back, terrified by his demeanor and movement. Loki knew what he looked like; black hair grown long and tangled, blazing emerald eyes sunk into his face, darkly shadowed with lack of proper rest. Skin pale and cool, cheeks hollow and jaw angular and thin. Yes, and he knew, that coupled with a murderous glare and crazed half-smirk, he was truly terrifying. The definition of madness. Oh, yes, he would give this defiant, audacious woman a true fright.
It was too his great surprise that she did not move an inch. Did not flinch, did not gasp, did not so much as hold her breath in tension. Not a single fraction did she waver, their faces so close he could feel his hair stir from her steady, unhitching breath as it passed through the magic barrier.
Her expression did not change either. She stood perfectly rigid, eyes locked onto his, still projecting the challenge he felt on the back of his neck. Blue eyes. She had vivid, blue, blue, eyes. So clear and dangerously cold and snapping with enough tenacious intelligence that even he, a monster among royalty, felt trapped under that unflinching sight.
It be came clear, minutes later, that she was not going to break the stare down. For a brief moment, Loki's gaze flicked over her features, noting the scars marring the left side of her face, and the trickle of blood seeping from the corner of her mouth. Rough treatment from the guards, most likely. In that brief second, the woman's eyes narrowed defensively, but it was gone in an instant. Minutes passed, neither party daring to be the first to give in. Loki felt a tiny flare of anger, of irritation, at her fantastic patience, but ignored it. He must have shown something in his expression, however, as the corner of her lip raised into an ever-so-slight smirk.
She was enjoying this, he suddenly realized. This was his little trick. His mind game that always disturbed his target. And look who's the target.
Loki pulled his head back, just a fraction, and never broke eye contact. The woman did the same, oddly enough. What kind of display of...respect was she pulling at? Slowly, they backed away from each other in unison, yet not once did the unspoken challenge end. For a moment, he felt threatened. No one looked at him in that manner. With no fear. None dared.
It unnerved him greatly. Threw him off balance, as memories swamped over him, haunting yet tantalizing. It took him a moment to realize his eyes had gone out of focus, barely drifting off to the side.
That was what was necessary. That was all she was looking for, she decided, turning her head away. Just to see him think. Question. She liked making people think, look at themselves with a knew perspective. The man in the cell adjacent to hers was no exception, and she idly noted that he seemed thoroughly annoyed and perplexed.
First impressions were powerful, even in situations like this. Without a word spoken, she felt as though there was an unspoken, curious respect formed between both parties. Just a minuscule amount of consideration and curiosity could go very far. Knowing this, she made it a personal mission to make anyone and everyone she met take a step away, (mental or physical) and reevaluate.
Too many people do not inquest for deeper meaning, and settled for the obvious. The easily accepted (and heavily sugarcoated, more often than not) explanations.
However, she herself did perhaps the exact opposite. She questioned everything, and never stopped until the answer made sense. And then, perhaps, one could apply it to a different situation for a different outcome. But that type of rampant curiosity was often self destructive. that, she knew all too well. Some facts were best left to speculation, and their escape was often dangerous. She had scars to prove it, literal and figuratively.
That was the downfall of many a brilliant mind.
Back to reality. She pivoted on one foot, eyes casting around, anywhere but the neighboring cell. Her challenging nature was almost always perceived as a threat. It often was. But not always, like just now. She had not been threatening the man, yet she sensed that he felt threatened. Maybe not entirely, more bewildered, startled too. She knew how to throw someone off balance.
There was a clatter of doors opening down the dark corridor. The woman could could hardly see outside her cell, but she heard the light tappings of small footsteps and a familiar voice questioning the guards.
Oh no, no, no.
Startled, she rapidly attempted to replace her feature-obscuring glamor. Nothing happened. It would take time to figure out how the cell worked, but it could be done. She remembered that her energized weapons did not work in the cell. Apparently, neither did magic. Even simple, harmless cantrips. Like illusions.
Damn.
It sounded as if the guards conceded, allowing the visitors through. She knew exactly who they were. And knew exactly what was going to happen next. It wasn't going to be pleasant, either.
Think, think, think! You're a genius, damnit! She cursed herself silently. The tapping footsteps of a group of people...six...she knew it would be, neared. Ignoring the curious stare from the dark haired man just a few paces away on the other side of the barrier, she ran her fingers through her hair, ruffling it, before crossing her arms and facing the only solid wall in her cell. No one could see her front from the main hallway, and she attempted to let a cold mask settle over her expression before the now rapping pattering of footsteps got any closer-
"Siggy!" a young child wailed.
Oh, curse the Norns, must this get any more humiliating?-
"SIGGY!"
Yes it must, apparently. She sighed, letting her shoulders slump. There was no way her plan would work. It was impossible to start with.
"Sister, I-why are you dressed like that?" That was her sister.
"Siggy! Siggy come here! Whaf's wrong?" the little voice wailed. Var, her youngest sister.
"Wife, what in Valhalla possessed you-"
Err, she thought. Wife. Foolish, foolish move, Theoric, as I am not your wife. Electing to ignore him, she addressed her oldest sister, still younger than herself, however.
"Nadia." she growled, not turning around. "Why did you bring them here?"
"Sigyn, sister, the youngest need to see you. Theoric, Lofan, and I, need to speak with you." Nadia responded evenly. Ah, this was going to be an unpleasant experience. Var, Sjofan, Syn, Lofan, Nadia were her sisters. Sigyn was the oldest, closest followed by Nadia and Lofan, both of which adults. Var and Sjofan were the youngest, with Syn in the middle. Oh, she loved her sisters. But this was going to be painful.
"This is a prison." Sigyn said quietly, voice thick with warning. "This is a bad place for dangerous people. You should not have brought them here."
"Well, too bad. You still haven't answered my question. You look like you're ready for battle. What happened to your gown?" Nadia pressed.
"Siggy! Why'd you do dat to The-o-ic's parwents and the nobbles?" Var babbled.
"Yes, beloved, what compelled you to douse the noblemen in mead, conjuring a swarm of wasps to pursue them? Everyone knows it was you, you couldn't have made it clearer. Why, dearest, did you crash my-...our wedding? I thought childish bouts of mayhem were long forgotten?" Theoric questioned, voice trembling with rage.
Oh, and he thought he was angry?
Sigyn whirled, momentarily forgetting the reason she kept her back to her sisters, only to remember when she was met by gasps of shock.
"Sister," Syn gasped, wearing the same horrified expressions as her other siblings, older and young, all dressed in their formal gowns. Sigyn never intended for her sisters to have to see her scars, the only evidence of the mysterious, forked path she tread.
"Sig, what happened?" Nadia demanded. Slowly, Sigyn approached the glass, avoiding eye contact. The two youngest, Var and Sjofan, were sobbing. Theoric was glaring daggers at her. Sigyn returned the glare.
"I know your questions, and will answer accordingly. Yes, I have worn a expression hiding glamor for the past few months since I returned from my latest trip. No, I cannot tell you how this happened." she nodded to Theoric. "Yes, I crashed my own wedding. The reason should be clear, as it has been since I was a child. I will never marry anyone, you included. That's it. Case closed."
"What!? You have no-" Theoric began, irate. Sigyn cut him off.
"This is a matter to discuss in private. My sisters are present." she snapped. Theoric shut his mouth with a click. The densely muscled warrior stepped aside to pace, ignoring them. Nadia made a noise in her throat.
"Lofan, Syn...Can you take the young ones back outside? I need to speak with Sigyn."
The middle sisters complied, but the youngest, the blond haired, doe eyed Var wouldn't budge, clutching a large leather book and a small case in her arms.
"Wait." she pouted. "Siggy, I hawve your book."
Loki kept his nose buried in an old tome, though he payed close attention to the curious happenings nearby. The family dramas were worthless to him. The mental image of a group of noblemen soaked in red mead being pursued by stinging insects proved only mildly interesting. What he was curious of, however, was why Sigyn had caused such trouble at her wedding. Most likely, he realized, was that it was an arranged marriage. Any betrothal that had nobles attending was almost certainly a highly political union of two houses.
But he was most curious about Sigyn's 'trip'. And the fact must have been covering her scars with illusions for months to keep the matter hidden.
Loki observed the little girl, very young, yellow dress, step cautiously up to the barrier nearest Sigyn. Hesitating, the armor clad and battle scarred woman knelt to her eye level.
"I know you like your book. It means a-wot to you, Siggy" the girl reasoned. A restrained smile crept across Sigyn's face, as if afraid of scaring her little sister by causing the scars to tug even more at her expression. The mysteriously familiar woman certainly seemed like she hadn't smiled in ages.
"Yes." she said with rusty gentleness "It is very important. Thank you for bringing it. I'm sure the guards will give it to me."
Var thought for a moment, big brown eyes wide and awed. "You said pr-ison is for bad people. But you-wre not bad?"
"I said it's for dangerous people, especially when they cause trouble, like me."
"Why did you cause twubble? You were gonna get mawwied."
Sigyn sighed once again. "I do not want to get married; and no one can force that upon me."
"Who huwrt you?" Var peeped after pondering for a moment.
Loki's hypothetical ears may or my not have perked up.
Sigyn had closed her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her scarred nose. "A very powerful being that tried to make me hurt a lot of people." she conceded.
Huh. Being, not person. Interesting. Tried to make her do something.
Var's eyes widened fearfully. "Does it huwrt?"
"Not anymore." Sigyn soothed, casting a glance at her sisters. Leaning closer to Var, she dropped her voice to a more serious, but still patient, tone.
"Listen, little lady, I need you to go with your sisters for now, alright?" she said kindly. The little girl's eyes widened innocently at her when Lofan crouched to lift her up, and Sigyn smiled before rising to her feet. The sisters each wore uncertain looks, but exited momentarily, leaving Theoric and Nadia alone with Sigyn.
The moment they were gone, the gentle demeanor Sigyn and the others displayed vanished.
"Sis. What the hell? You disappear for months at a time, business a mystery even to the all seeing Heimdall. You weren't there when our father passed. Mother has left care of the youngest up to Lofan and I. This has become ridiculous. I know you have your secrets, but by the Norns, I am your sister! Give me some damn warning next time you stir trouble like this! Oh, and I know you weren't in Vanaheimr. I won't ask. I don't want to know-"
"No, I wasn't in Vanaheimr." Sigyn cut Nadia off, voice turning blunt. Loki listened intently. "If you let me speak..."
"Start talking then. I haven't got all day, especially since I am expected to formally apologize to those ten-odd noble council members. Oh, and Prince Thor, who was also attending. You knew how important today was; and look how you've embarrassed both our houses with your childish behavior." Theoric cut in viciously. Sigyn stamped one foot for silence.
"Gysson. Theoric Gysson. You insufferable fool. When will you take the bloody hint that I. Will. Never. Marry. You." she snarled, voice rich and resonating with anger. "Or anyone else for that matter. I will never defer to the petty, political strivings with which ours, and many others, houses participate. Go ahead. Blame it all on me. That is fine; that is my intent. Am I clear?"
Loki idly turned a page in his book, feigning disinterest.. No one acknowledged him, however.
"But..." Theoric began, suddenly sounding all-too innocent. "But I loved you? Does that mean nothing? Even when you'd disappear for months on end, you still came back to me. You love me, too. You just-"
A dagger slammed into the magic barrier, sending ripples along it surface like water, level with Theoric's face, clattering as it fell, followed by a cold laugh from sigyn. The man clicked his jaw shut, flinching. Sigyn braced herself in a battle stance, two daggers glinting in her hands. She lowered her gaze, fixing it on his throat before traveling back to his eyes. If looks could kill.
"That is a lie. A blatant, bald-faced, manipulative, cowardly lie. I suggest you leave now. Your pathetic attempts at persuasion have no effects on myself." Sigyn's voice had gone velvety. Nadia shifted on her feet. Theoric's gaze turned flinty.
"Oh, I'm the coward? I'm the one who disappears when I'm needed most? The shadow-walker? Sorceress! What kind of title is that? You were always supposed to be a healer as your mother! You're a cruel, mad, cowardly woman. No wonder you're locked up beside the great Traitor-Prince of Asgard, left to rot indefinitely. You claim to be honor-"
The sharp, throaty noise of rage and frustration Sigyn made could best described as a growl. "You have no right." she spat. "I have seen things that would render your meager, idealistic mind to a useless, scrambled mess. I know things that no one should. Do you know what lurks between the stars? Do you know why I am how I am? Why I do what I do? No. You never will and I'll never tell a soul. Do yourself a favor, and run. Run fast, run far. I'll leave you with a question, and I don't want an answer. If you fear the bite so greatly, why lie with the wolf?"
Theoric's gaze turned dangerous. The muscular, tall man took a step back. "Are you so sure you who the wolf is?" he gritted out, before stomping off down the corridor. Sigyn tossed her head loftily, flashing a grin and another bark of bitter laughter.
"Oh, yes. I know, and I'll assure you. This wolf does not lie with dogs!" she called after him, voice eerie and taunting. Moments later a door slammed nearby, and Sigyn relaxed. Nadia was studying her closely.
"Why do you speak this way? Sister?"
Sigyn sighed. "I tread a complicated path best left unfollowed. There's too much to explain."
"So you really can't tell me what you've been up to?" Sigyn's slightly younger sister asked after moment.
"No. I wish I could, but I cannot allow it to jeopardize your safety. I am sorry."
"That's not a good sign, is it?"
Sigyn chuckled tiredly, shaking her head. "Not at all."
The two sister were silent for a moment. Nadia's gaze flicked around before resting on him. Out of the corner of his eye, Loki could see her take an unconscious step back from the cells. He ignored their presence entirely.
"Oh..so this's where they've put him..." Nadia murmured, almost to herself.
"I'm sorry, what?" Sigyn responded, following her gaze to Loki, who, gave all appearances of being enthralled by his reading. "Who?"
"Prince Loki.." Nadia whispered. Sigyn whipped her head back to her.
"The Loki? As in Midgard-invading-Loki-with-a-Chitauri-fleet?" she said incredulously, as if she had recognized him, looking back at him. Loki allowed his gaze to flick up to hers for the briefest moment. The woman's wide blue eyes seemed surprised. And laced with some hidden suspicion. A stark contrast from her younger sister's obvious fear.
"The Chitauri? Who are they?"
Sigyn looked back at her sister. "You don't know who-?" she shook her head. "You know what? It's good you not know. You don't want to know. Sleep a little better at night, and forget I said anything."
So the Chitauri's existence is not common knowledge to the Aesir? Yet this mysterious woman knows about them? Apparently, enough to know how heavy the knowledge weighs on one's shoulders, Loki realized.
Nadia had taken another step back, warily eyeing her sister. She was quiet for a long moment. "Sig, you're not here just because you insulted a group of nobles, are you?"
"No."
More silence.
"You're not going to get away from your problems easily this time?"
"Not likely." Sigyn said with a frown. Nadia looked nervous, edging down the corridor.
"I-I...um..I'll visit you tomorrow. I have to go for now. I'll make sure the guards know to give you your book." she said in a rush. Sigyn sighed heavily.
"Wait." she called out. Slowly, her sister returned. She seemed to be viewing her in a different light.
"What is it, Sigyn?"
"I...You need to know something. Something about me that I never want you to repeat." Sigyn said after a moments thought.
"Why tell me if you want to keep it to yourself?"
"Because...I need to cut ties with the family. What I am about to tell you may save your life."
"What? Cut ties! We're your sisters! With father dead and mother curling up in defeat, you are the only one to keep the family going! That's why you were going to marry Theoric, to make sure-"
"No. My presence is increasingly dangerous to those around me. I am relying on you to make the decisions from now on. As soon as I am able, I-"
"Dangerous?! What am I going to tell them? Say that you're dead!? You must be mad!" Nadia cut her off, incredulous. Sigyn fixed her with a cool, even stare, obviously trying to maintain her temper.
"Sure. Devise a story. Make sure I am gone by the end." She said as if it were so simple, and continued before Nadia could object. "Anyway. I am so sorry. Back to what I do not want you to repeat."
"Anyway? I am so sorry? You're acting as if this is some diplomatic affair! You have changed, it does not seem as though I know you as I once thought, sister." Nadia said dubiously. Loki couldn't help but cast another glance up. Sigyn's expression was grave.
"Sister by association, not blood."
"What!?"
Sigyn heaved another sigh. "I am not blood related to any of you. Not to Var, not to Sjofan, not to you. Your father was not my father and your mother is not mine. That does not mean I am not your sister, however. I know this must come as a shock. Yet again, this information may save your life at one point. I am sorry. So, so, sorry." her voice was strangely emotionless.
"Save my life? You're sorry? You act as if you've known for years!" Nadia's voice quavered.
"I have." she said bluntly. At Nadia's imploring look, and continued reluctantly. "Because I worked with geneticist in Vanaheimr, I was able to trace my bloodline back. That was years ago." she shrugged. "Found out I'm only part Aesir, too."
Nadia stared at her. "Err...You've been to Vanaheimr? Wait..Aesir and what? Care to elaborate?"
"Well.." Sigyn shifted on her feet. "Funny thing. My birth mother was a full-blooded Vanir. My father, well..." she shrugged again, running a hand through her hair. By her tone, Loki could tell she didn't really care much about this discussion, even though Nadia seemed on the verge of either tears or anger.
"My father was half Jotun, half Aesir."
Loki's head shot up, his eyebrows knitted incredulously.
"What?" her sister sputtered. "Are you ill, sister?"
Yes, Loki thought. What the hell?
"Eh...no. No big deal, I mean, what can you do? I surmounted any issues I had with the knowledge of my parentage long ago. It's the least of my problems now." Sigyn said honestly.
"You know who your blood parents are?"
"Err...no."
She was lying. She knew exactly who with which she was kin. Loki knew how to spot a falsity. He wasn't called the god of lies for nothing.
"So...so...you're alright with this?" Nadia squeaked, appalled.
"Like I said. Old news. You seem to be taking this much harder than I."
"Of course! I just found out that my sister really isn't my sister, and she's know it and kept it to herself that she's crossed with a race of mon..." she trailed off. Loki was focussing on he with a rapacious glare. Go ahead...Say it. Sayitsayitsayit! His eyes gleamed. But the distraught woman was not looking at him.
Oh, no. She was looking at Sigyn.
Certain people can control their mannerisms, such as facial expression and body posture, more than others. Loki was one of those unique people. Also, apparently, was Sigyn, whose demeanor had changed so rapidly it was like a switch. Or a gunshot. Her expression turned very dark. Very dark and intense and positively feral, as she leaned forward as if daring her the woman in front of her to speak. For a second, a moment, they were no longer sisters. They became enemies. Nadia seemed to shrink back, daunted by Sigyn's impressive stance.
Sigyn was tall. More so than most, especially her sisters. She didn't resemble her adoptive siblings in the least, if you looked from a step back. Most of the five younger siblings were petite, had either light blond, or red hair grown long and kept tied back, and dark chocolate eyes. Sigyn was a stark comparison, other than the horrendous scars, she had an unusual, lanky yet muscular, athletic physique, loose shoulder length tawny hair and blue eyes. Startling eyes. The irises bordered darkly by a deep indigo, to drastically lighter, almost silver, around the pupil. She certainly looked unique, mysterious, very much fey. To Loki, she seemed almost familiar. Something about the eyes.
"What was that?" Sigyn purred lethally. She pulled her lips back in a sneer, almost purposefully making the scaring pull at her features. Her eye flashed, and there was something rare in that gaze. It was the half crazed, world-wary and perpetually mistrustful, haunted, hunted stare of someone who has seen too much, and knows too much for their own good. Loki knew that look all too well. He saw it every time he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the glass.
"Nothing." Nadia said quietly. "But you have changed. You are still my sister, Sigyn. Just not the one I used to know. For that, I grieve. But I do not think that is your fault. I don't blame you for whatever you may have caused. I just wish things had been different."
Sigyn was still for a long moment. Then, with stubborn reluctance, forced the rigid threat from her stance and backing away from the barrier. She relaxed, but just.
"Understandable. I agree to some extent, sister. Yet bare in mind, I loath your pity because-"
"Nadia! Hurry up! We need to leave!" Lofan's voice echoed down the hall, cutting her off.
"Just a moment! I am hurrying!" Nadia called back. Sigyn kept her face carefully emotionless.
"No, no. It's alright. Go, Nadi. Take care, and remember to never speak of this again." she said gently. Nadia opened her mouth to object, but Sigyn shook her head. "Goodby, sister, and good luck. I will be fine, don't worry. It will depend on how things play out, but I may see you five around. But not for a while. Please go now."
Her sister nodded slowly, backing away. Eventually she turned, one hand cupped to her mouth to hide her distress as she disappeared into the dark corridors.
Sigyn finally let her shoulders sag in defeat. It's for the best, she told herself. It was the only logical solution. Make her sisters feel betrayed. Let them hate her so they stay away. She would only be a hazard to them, if her enemies ever discovered their existence. She could have easily been lying when she spoke of being adopted, and part Jotun, just to sew mistrust. Her sisters may initially believe it was a lie, but they would catch on. Unfortunately, it was the truth.
Sometimes raw honesty can cut deeper than the cruelest lie.
Sigyn sighed, turning away from the magic barrier. Nadia's words repeated in her mind.
'...Not the sister I once knew. For that, I grieve.' she had said. So she had her sister's pity. Lovely.
Eyeing the cot suspiciously, she opted to sit against the far wall of the cell, legs crossed in front of her. The man in the neighboring chamber, whom she now understood to be Loki, seemed to be busy reading. She knew better. He was observing. Like I care, Sigyn decided, returning to her thoughts.
"Well, your pity is wasted on someone like myself." Sigyn said quietly after several long moments of being lost in thought. With a start, she realized she was talking to herself. Not a good sign with someone just placed in prison. Someone who just crashed her wedding. By soaking a group of nobility in red mead. And conjuring a swarm of wasps to finish the just told her not-sisters never to come to her again. That she was a Vanir, Aesir-Jotun hybrid. Oh yes, she must look like a crazy woman.
Well, I am crazy. That, I am certain of.
But a different kind of crazy. A special kind of madness that rapidly turning, creative minds are prone to.
The tedious, perhaps more than a little childlike, madness that is boredom.
Sigyn knew she shouldn't be feeling the effects of boredom so soon. She had hardly been in the cell for an hour. But it was something about the clean white walls, and sterile, humming white lights that seemed to permeate your mind. Something that made her skin prickle, her hands twitch. She idly tapped her foot. The sound echoed too much. She stopped. Memories of other times she had been trapped began to vie for her attention. Images of dark caverns crawling with vicious creatures, small malevolent eyes and glittering black teeth. Movements echoing in darkness, drawing nearer. Chittering promises of pain. Memories of the actual torture, of being restrained, soaked in her own blood, every limb tied. Those vile creatures circling, threatening, promising...
Because...because...you can have new power...we'll release you if you do it...we'll make you wish you were dead if you don't...because...because ...
"Damnit all...!" Sigyn suddenly spat, leaping to her feet, panting. She paced furiously. Bloody flashbacks. That was the last thing she needed to deal with right now.
Loki stared at the mysterious woman, startled by her outburst. She looked as if she had been in a nightmare, yet wide awake. Visibly agitated, she paced the perimeter of the cell, shaking her head. She froze, and turned towards him. Now fixing him with a eerily intense glare, she approached the barrier in between their cells, and crouched down to see him at eye level. He stared back evenly, closing his book and folding his hands over his lap. Tipping her head curiously, she appraised him for a few moments. Her gaze traveled over the rest of his cell and it's contents, slowly and carefully. Sigyn's eye lingered on the desk, specifically the stack of books on the desk. She stood, briefly glancing back at her own empty enclosure, frowning, before moving along the barrier. The low desk was in one of the room's corners, closest to the forcefield. Tentatively, she placed one hand on the barrier, noting how the energy rippled around her fingers. Fascinated, she slid her hand along the edge where it joined with the white, metal walls. She put both hands on the barrier, side by side. The little ripples of energy bounced off each other, like in water. But instead of loosing velocity like water, they gained strength as they reverberated in between her hands.
Pulling her hands away, Loki could see her smirking. The smug, self assured, smirk of someone who thinks they know the answer to everything.
Foolish woman, he thought to himself. There is no way out. Accept it, and move on.
The woman began to pace once again, albeit slower, more thoughtful. Loki could feel fatigue tugging at his mind as he watched her pace. He often took to sleeping long hours just to pass the time. There were nightmares to keep him busy. Too vivid, too real. They were memories, in truth, and that made it that much worse. He leaned his head back against the wall. The last thing he was aware of before he drifted off was Sigyn muttering something to herself about percussion and energy density.
Who knows how long he slept. The god of mischief certainly didn't know himself, not that he cared. There was nothing to wake to but the glaring, bright silence of his imprisonment. At least the horrendous scenes that his mind replayed kept him company. Even that was better than the times a certain future king would visit, either to ask questions or search for reasoning or repeat the stubborn pledge that 'you are still my brother..'
Wasted words. Loki never responded. He just waited for Thor to leave, not even deigning to acknowledge the golden son's presence. Sometimes Thor didn't speak. Just sat on a nearby bench, eyes downcast and deep in thought. Those were the instances Loki hated the most.
Now, Loki had initially thought it was his broth-no, never that, Thor's presence that had woken him. But when he glanced to the area outside his cell were he usually sat, there was no one there. He stood, groaning as he stretched the unused muscles in his back. He rolled his shoulders back, feeling the joints pop, before preparing to move towards his musty cot.
He froze, jaw slacked open, arms still curled from stretching, and one foot raised. An undignified sight he must have been, but it was quite justified.
The woman in the adjoining cell had disassembled her cot. Completely pulled it apart and some how put it back together in another manner...and stretched the simple bed-cloths provided over the structure to make...a hammock? Loki was dumbfounded. Sigyn was sprawled in the sling, seemingly quite comfortable and pleased with herself, one foot just touching the floor to keep hammock in a steady rocking motion. Then he realized something even more...peculiar.
She was reading. There had been no books in her cell, and he would have heard if one of the guards had given her one.
With a start, Loki realized it was one of his books. One of his books from his cell. Several of the novels were missing from his desk. He blinked, taking a step towards the table, making sure. No, he hadn't moved them. She had them.
Somehow, she had been able to get to his books? Wait, what? How?
Then Loki noticed something else. Or lack there of. The shimmering, energy barrier that divided their cells was...gone.
Tentatively, he extended a hand past were it should be, as of making sure. He couldn't believe it. It was...impossible. The specific magic used to form these barriers was weaved by Odin himself. If there was ever a chance that someone could unlock it on their own, it would be Loki, the greatest sorcerer of Asgard. Not some snarky woman who doused a couple of nobles in mead. That annoyed him intensely.
Loki cleared his throat, hesitating to speak. The woman's eyebrows raised imploringly. She just looked at him.
"I-Er...how...why?" he stuttered uneasily, realizing how rusty his voice was. It had been a while since he had spoken.
"Why?" Sigyn echoed. "The guards won't give me my book. I was bored" she gestured vaguely. "Someone will throw a hissy fit once they realize, but I don't care. I've proven my point." her eyes cast down to the book, ignoring him once again.
Loki felt the burn of anger seep through his mind. Slowly, threateningly, he prowled towards her, glaring daggers.
"Aren't you concerned that I might kill you?" he growled huskily, looming over her. Sigyn's piercing gaze traveled over his body from the floor up, before locking on his eyes. She hadn't flinched, yet again. An eyebrow arched curiously.
"Not particularly. You, however, should probably be more concerned." she said evenly. In one swift motion, Loki had grabbed her, hands curling around her throat. He let a vicious grin coil from his lips.
"Oh? What makes you think that?" he snarled lowly, face inches from hers. Sigyn wasn't resisting at all, keeping her body loose as if she had expected that. In fact, she was smirking. Or at least the best smirk one could manage when someone had you by the throat. That infuriated him.
"Don't, dare believe it is due to a lack of will!" he said, giving her throat a squeeze.
"Oh, I wasn't." she was able to get out. Under his hand, her throat vibrated with a chuckle. "But I do know I could take you in a fight any day." she continued, shifting her position.
"I doubt that."
"Underestimate me at your own peril." she kept her eyes locked on his. "Let me up." she said more sharply. Loki curled his fingers deeper into her throat.
"Why are you not concerned? I have nothing to loose." he said, not releasing her.
"Ah-ah, No, also nothing to gain. You are too curious, because I know things you don't. And really, do you know how long it takes to choke someone?" she paused, shifting under him again. It took him a moment to process what she said, before there was a slight prick of pain, quite dangerously low on his belly, of something cold and very sharp. Oh, damn. Of course I forgot she still has her knives.
"Because I sure do. It takes longer to kill that way than to bleed out." she finished.
"Would you really kill a would-be king?"
Her smirk hardened viciously, tugging at the scars. The knife slipped even lower, making him wince. "I don't care who or what you are. If someone threatens me, be it king or beast or peasant alike, I have and will use lethal force if necessary." she hissed, voice going from silky to sharp.
When he didn't move immediately, the knife pressed harder, twisting in his flesh so he could feel a trickle of blood run down his flank. Considering the placement of the blade, common sense took over. Making a snarling noise of frustration, he released her, stepping back sharply.
"Hmmm. Fascinating." The woman quipped, pulling herself to her feet. Loki narrowed his eyes at her. What could anyone possibly know that would cause them to act in such a manner? He questioned himself, but he already knew the answer. Many things.
"If you can unravel the energy used in the barriers, why are you still here?" he said after a moment of watching her. She smoothed her coat and slid the dagger up her sleeve.
"Well, if I am to achieve my objective, I need to play the game correctly." she offered.
"Oh, so you have an objective?" Loki's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Who doesn't?" She said, meandering towards the front of the cell, putting her back to him. He flinched when she faced him suddenly. "I'm surprised you hadn't cracked into the prison's energy. Asgard's greatest sorcerer. I mean the type used here is rare, but come on, it's not that complicated." she paused, acknowledging his thin frown. "Unless, you mean to stay?" she tipped her head. Loki's frown deepened.
"It was put in place by Odin himself. None are supposed to be able to crack it, believe me, I have tried." he said, rolling back on his feet as he took several steps to the side. "Why would a simple woman like yourself be put in the highest security prison in Asgard for something as mediocre as a bought of mischief?" he said quietly after a moment, trying to get a reaction. Sigyn's jaw tightened.
"Simple woman?" she echoed incredulously. "This 'simple woman' has a name. Call me anything of the like again and, I'll assure you, you will not like what I'll start calling you."
Loki growled in the back of his throat. "Very well, Sigyn. For what reason other than the obvious are you in Asgard's highest security prison?" he gritted out, expecting some sort of triumphant response, such as a smug expression or sarcastic 'thank you'. But oddly, there was none, just a thoughtful nod.
"Well, I'm not exactly...known for my redeeming qualities. I have a long history, and quite frankly, a price on my head." she paused, shrugging. "I know why I'm here. That is all that matters for the time being."
Interesting. For some reason, Loki sensed that Odin had something to do with this, and Sigyn knew it too, but wasn't going to say.
"You are proficient in Odin's types of seidr?" he queried. Sigyn shot him an incredulous look.
"Of course! Beyond proficient! Yet there are many other classifications of sorcery that even Odin is clueless about. How do you think I-" she stopped mid sentence, staring into the darkness outside the brightly illuminated cells with a remarkable intensity. There was...nothing that Loki could see, not that that was much. The prison was designed so the corridors traveling throughout the building were in shadow, to allow the guards easier surveillance of prisoners.
Sigyn felt a stab of irritation as she gazed into the dark outside the cell. There had been a presence watching for some time now, perfectly still and curious and tense and...hopeful? From the energy she could pick up from the being, (one of the talents of being powerfully intuitive) she could tell it was a man, occupying a rather large space, low to the ground as if he was crouching. Although she had planned to ignore him and see when he'd interfere, she had sensed that he was...reaching for something. Ah, that was it. Sigyn thought to herself. There was apprehension emanating from him and...guilt! Yes, he was reaching for the book that her little sister Var had left for her, and the guards wouldn't give her. Her book, and hers alone. Cocking her head at the presence, she allowed her mouth to pull back in a snarl. Foolish man, who ever you are! That is not yours...
"Drop it." she snapped, ignoring the startled expression from Loki. He was full of peculiar expressions, and it seemed that she elicited the strangest from him. Sigyn had the tendency to have that effect on people. The was a clatter of something being dropped, and a the sound of someone recoiling sharply. Loki, who had taken several more steps away from her, gave her a skeptical look.
"How did you know-?" he began, then stopped. Sigyn waved one hand at him, focussing at the spot on the darkness.
"Intuited it." she answered him shortly, trying to decipher who had been eavesdropping. The man was still there.
"Alright...mister eavesdropper. I think I know who you are." Sigyn muttered. "Tall, muscular...dense. Very dense, too dense. Oh, it's what you're holding, isn't it, mister? Uru metal, one of the densest in the known realms. There's only..." she stopped and frowned. The man was edging away sheepishly.
"Jig's up. I know it's you, Thor, at least have the decency to admit that you were listening this whole time."
She heard a sharp intake of breath from Loki when she called the thunder god out. She registered him hesitate, before reluctantly stepping into the lighted area closer to the cells.
Glowering, Loki edged away as Sigyn arched her brow at the darkly-cloaked form of his bro- no, not his brother. Never. "Are you in need of something?" the woman asked, voice smooth like a knife's edge. Thor's sheepish expression could be likened to that of an chastised child, and the uneasy shifting of his feet didn't help. Damn, he thought. She could make the arrogant, golden son of Odin act as if he was a boy caught listening in on his parents' conversation concerning his birthday gift, instead of two prisoners' sharp-tongued snipes at each other. Not that he was impressed.
"I-I, lady Sigyn, I had come to retrieve you. The Allfather wishes to speak with you immediately." Thor said, uncertain. That was unusual. For Odin to send Thor to bring one of the prisoners to him for conference? Unheard of.
"What compelled you to try to sneak off with my book, then?" Sigyn chipped. Thor opened his mouth to argue, but she continued. "And eavesdropping? Really? What is so enthralling to a pretty little Aesir prince about a couple of lowly, treasonable prisoners conversing?" she snipped viciously. Loki couldn't help but be curious why she was playing in such dangerous waters. Thor was to be king. He did not tolerate disrespect.
Predictably, Thor's jaw hardened. "Watch how you speak, lady Sigyn! You are in the presence of two sons of Odin! My brother still, even if his actions have-"
"I am not your brother, Odinson!" Loki snapped, cutting him off. "And certainly not worthy of the pathetic, blind adoration that you seem to find so amicable. I, for one, am in no need of your defense. Save your words."
"Why must you strive to deny so vehemently that-"
"Why? Why? All you ever ask is why! Why'd you attack Midgard? Why do you-"
"Oh, boys, boys! Get it together, both of you!" Sigyn interrupted sharply. Loki frowned thinly. She was a bold one to speak how she does. Or perhaps foolish. There was still something familiar about her.
"Sheesh!" she puffed at Thor. "So volatile!" slowly, she approached the glass. Thor was squinting at her, momentarily distracted.
"Why do you look so different? I had been at your betrothal ceremony, just hours ago. You didn't have-" Thor hesitated. This mysterious woman certainly commanded respect.
"Scars? Black overcoat filled with weapons, fit for war?" Sigyn finished for him, fierce glint in her eye and dangerous smile tugging at her expression. "It was a glamor, I'm afraid. So sorry about the confusion..."
"I am not sure why you did why you did. Theoric Geirrson comes from an upstanding, wealthy noble family, as do you. Your union would be beneficial for all parties considering you have no brothers and your father is passed." Thor questioned.
"Oh, yes. Because apparently my family cannot sustain with out a man to run the show." Loki could hear the eye roll in Sigyn's sardonic tone. "My oldest younger sisters are more than capable of taking care, even with their mother being so...distant. Unfortunately, I have to cut ties with everyone. I have much more important things to do than be tied down by marriage...ugh! Especially to that cowardice fool who thinks he's all that and a bag of chips."
Thor's brow furrowed. "What does that mean?" He asked. For once Loki had to agree; the statement made no sense.
"It's a-err...damnit I've spent too much time on Midgard," she broke off muttering. "It's a Midgard saying. Forget I said anything."
"You've been on Midgard?" Thor asked incredulously. Sigyn blinked. Loki just observed.
"Well...maybe? I've kind of been everywhere. Not that it's any of your business-"
"As in other realms?! The bifrost is currently unusable, and anyway, it's not permitted! It's not possible!" Thor interjected. Loki mentally grinned. There are other ways for the determined, fool. Didn't you learn that with me? He thought to himself.
Sigyn's expression closed off, carefully building a mask of indifference. She said nothing in response. Thor eyed her suspiciously. "Are you the one who disabled the forcefield between the cells?" he asked cautiously.
"Yes."
"So you could do the same to the other walls of the cell?"
"Of course."
"Yet you...do not?"
"Precisely." she said, dropping her voice to a whisper, eyes wide and mockingly serious. A shadow of confusion and doubt passed over Thor's features.
Yes, Loki had to admit, she knows how to get to Thor.
Just before the bemused thunder god could come up with another question, Sigyn's head snapped around. Once again, her expression became taught, as if acutely focussing on something no one else could see. There was a sudden clatter of rapidly footsteps approaching, and Sigyn sighed. To Loki, it was as if she knew who was coming before they had even approached.
"It's her! I can't believe it! It's her!" Fandral's voice sounded, incredulous, as he approached. Sif, Hogun, and Volstagg were right behind him. Sigyn was silent and frowning.
"It's been ages, milady! Where have you been?" The good natured Volstagg bellowed as if they were not in a prison. "What are you doing here?" The warriors three and Sif all peered at Sigyn, curious and excited. Thor looked baffled.
"You know her personally?" Thor asked.
"Used to. By, golly it's been a long time." Fandral said. A flash of skepticism passed over Hogun's face.
"This can't be...her? No, impossible! You look so different..." the grim warrior commented. Sigyn remained expressionless.
"I'd say it is. By the Norns, no one has eyes like that!" Volstagg added. Sif's eyes flicked to Loki, standing stoic at the other end of the cell, then back to Sigyn.
"Sigyn, correct?" she prompted. Sigyn gave a curt nod. "The sorceress? Claircognizant as well, if I remember correctly?"
"Very much so. Telekinetic, I must add." Sigyn responded simply. Fandral's mouth split into a beaming grin.
"Self assured and stoically prideful as you always were. I told you! It's Sigyn the Cat!" he announced.
"From the academy?" Thor said. He seemed to be catching on. Loki realized that that nickname was indeed familiar. Hogun nodded, looking to Sigyn.
"Your father made sure you were in the highest classes, if I remember correctly. We trained and learned alongside each other for years."
Sigyn remained stone faced. "Yes, that is true." she nodded to Thor. "I'm surprised you didn't remember me."
The thunder god's skepticism vanished, and he broke into a megawatt smile, much to Loki's distaste. "Aye, I remember now! Sigyn the Cat! How did I forget! I must apologize for my mistake, but why, again, were you called the Cat?"
Loki knew. Very suddenly, he remembered. Remembered everything. The royal academy. As children, then teenagers to young adults. Thor had his warrior friends, loud and boisterous like the thunderer himself, that Loki always struggled to fit in with. There was others in the private academy, as well. Sons and daughters of the mentors, and of wealthy politicians and senators. Most were like the majority of the youth in Asgard, with inflated dreams to become the greatest warriors, to bring glory to Asgard. There was not many who ventured to learn the arts of magic and sorcery. It was not a profession deemed 'warrior-like'. Loki was one of the few that seeked out the mentors that specialized in teaching the ways of magic and ancient knowledge of spells the art of shape shifting and illusions. He often resorted to losing himself in the libraries, researching for hours on end to further his knowledge outside what they taught him. There were some young, intelligent pupils that showed a hesitant interest in the field, but he was he was quite alone, however, because it was his unnatural fascination and talent for weaving magic, and shapeshifting, that set him apart. It was akin to obsession. A hunger to learn, to figure out, to devise, to change. A rampant curiosity that intelligence allowed to run like mad.
But, perhaps he hadn't been entirely alone. There was one other that shared Loki's innate, unnatural talent for sorcery. The daughter of one of the mentors, a kind man who taught of politics, the oldest of a few sisters whom she looked and acted nothing like. A wry, feisty, fiercely intelligent girl, with long, shimmering tawny hair that kept an unusual wave to it. With blue eyes. Breathtaking, captivating blue eyes whose eerie, challenging gaze could pin you to the wall as effectively as a knife. She had been Loki's greatest ally when he played his pranks on his brother and his friends. Who participated in their adventures. She understood the ways of magic, never just trying to copy the spells verbatim from the textbooks, but throwing her own artistic spin on it, just like he tended to do. Magic clicked with her as well as it did with him. As time had passed and they matured, they had grown very close. Inseparable even.
But some things are just not meant to be. The two were a dangerous combination, too wickedly smart for their own good. Circumstances changed over time, as what tends to happen. Eventually they went their own ways.
Silently, Loki berated himself. How had he not recognized her?
Had she not recognized him? Probably not. Certainly not. She could not possibly see him as that old childhood friend that was long crushed by the monster's teeth.
Fandral scoffed at Thor's question.
"Forget!? It's Sigyn the Catastrophe! Lady of discord! Do you not remember how she was in cahoots with Loki for ages! I swear, whoever's idea it was to put these two anywhere near each other should loose their job! There's no way the Cat and the Silvertongue haven't conspired to open up a-"
"I am no longer Sigyn the Cat." Sigyn interrupted coldly. "As heartwarming as your childhood epiphanies are, I care not to partake. We are no longer children. This is not a reunion. I haven't seen any of you in ages, so don't act as if I have" she said condescendingly, unsurprised by the confused expressions from her once-comrades. Her mood had gone dangerously sober. She could feel Loki's stare boring into her. She knew he now remembered who she was. And now, after overhearing the last conversation with her sister, who she wasn't.
"What are you then?" Sif said with an edge to her voice. Looking her dead in the eye, Sigyn knew that the warrior goddess was looking at her scars.
"Not what I once was. Nothing as I once was, that is for sure." she growled. "I am no longer the innocent, mischievous spitfire of my youth. I am not Sigyn the Cat. I am, perhaps, Sigyn the Murderess. The manipulator. The betrayer. The formidable." her voice dripped in a strange venom, more so than Loki had ever seen in her. She fixed her frigid glare in Thor.
"Now, ," she said to Thor, with particular condescension. "You said that your father wishes to speak with me, correct?"
"I-Er..yes. If you will, lady Sigyn." Thor said, uncertain, brow furrowing. He moved his hand towards the cells' control panel to disable the forcefield.
"On one condition." Sigyn said, stopping him dead. "You return to me my book."
Thor considered this for a moment. He nodded. "Fair enough, I suppose." stooping, he retrieved the heavy, leather-bound object from the floor. Sigyn watched him with acute intensity. Thor hesitated. "Why is this so important?" he asked.
"No particular reason." she lied. "Other than that it is mine alone."
Sif squinted at her suspiciously, sensing that she was hiding something. "Check and make sure it's harmless, just to be safe." she suggested to Thor. Sigyn's eyes widened as Thor began to undue the leather bindings along the side of the case.
"No, no, no!" she snapped, taking a step towards the glass. Loki could hear something akin to fear in his once-friend's voice. "Do. Not. Open. That."
Thor hesitated, furrowing his brow. Sigyn held his gaze with a dangerous determination. He had opened the book partially, his fingertips resting on the edge of its outer case. Oh, by the Norns, just don't touch the pages! She thought to herself, hiding her going panic.
"I said do not touch it. Close the cover, carefully, without touching the pages inside. Close it now, Thor!" Sigyn instructed, all too calm and smooth.
Thor didn't oblige. His eyes flicked over the first page of the book. It was blank. Deciding to follow his curiosity and ignore Sigyn's warning, he flicked the first page with his thumb, revealing a bizarre drawing on the next sheet. It was some sort of drawing book.
Sigyn was hardly breathing, so tense, as if ready to spring. "Stop. Just stop! I will explain why if you just do not touch it!" she said, barely keeping her panic down. Thor's gaze moved up from the book, and he gave the slightest, sober nod. "Fine. What you are holding is my sketch pad. The paper is coated in a toxin. Anyone other myself that touches them will be poisoned. Touch any drawing, and you'll die."
Thor looked startled, and he went to close the book. Sif put her hand on his arm to stop him, shaking her head. "Your sister was able to touch it safely, and I'm sure she'd be more vulnerable to its effects?"
Something in Sigyn's tense expression turned cold. In one swift movement, she whipped a strange metal gun from the inside of her coat, small in her hand and with a glowing blue gem in its handle. She flipped a lever on its side, it clicked, and began to emanate a resonating, energetic hum. She pointed it at Loki, who stood off to the side in the cell. The god of mischief's eyes widened slightly, while Sif and the warriors three drew their own weapons. Sigyn's eyes never left Thor's.
"Alright. You caught me in a lie. I wove spells into the pages that, when touched, create a psychic connection from your brain to my memories. Touch a page, experience something from my past." she said rapidly, and shifting the aim of the gun up to Loki's face. "I'll assure you, you do not want to see some of the things I've seen. I know how these cells work, things can go in, but not out. Toss the book in here to me, and I won't blow your brother's head off."
Thor summoned Mjölnir to his hand, still not closing the book. Anger blossomed in his expression. "You have no right to-"
"I will do it, Thor. Believe me, I don't want my old friend's blood on my hands, but I have done much, much worse." she interrupted him, very softly. Loki was startled by her words. He could see her hand shaking. "There are some things that you do not question."
Face contorting in a snarl, Thor tossed the leather bound book into the cell. Sigyn pinned it with her foot before she holstered the bizarre gun. Thor whirled around, stomping off down the corridor.
"Come, my friends. The prisoner can see Odin at a later time." he boomed over his shoulder, anger clear in his voice. Sif and the warriors three soon disappeared from the visibility of the cell.
The moment the doors could be heard slamming closed down the corridor, Sigyn's expelled a puff of air, bowing her head. She was smirking all of a sudden. Even chuckling slightly, and it occured to Loki that she might have created that entire scene just to get what she wanted. Skilled deceiver she must be. Loki backed up slowly, keeping his footfalls silent, before he lowered himself in his usual spot against the far wall, where he could watch Sigyn. She was still standing with her foot on the book, deep in thought. After several moments, she stooped to pick up the leather-bound book, taking a moment to thumb through the pages before slipping it into her coat. Apparently satisfied, she curled up on the hammock she had fashioned from her cot, settling to return his stare. Loki raised an eyebrow at her and his hands over his lap.
"So. I'm still an old friend?" he questioned, breaking the silence. Sigyn blinked.
"I would not have shot you." she said guardedly.
"So I'm your friend, then?" he chided.
"I did not say that. I wouldn't have shot you because, one: you never did anything to me to deserve it. Two: taking hostages is really not my M.O. Three: fine, I'll admit it. You were an old friend of mine. Note the emphasis on 'were'. I haven't seen you for a very, very long time."
Loki smirked. Sigyn frowned. "I don't know what's going through that mind of yours, but if you so much as-" She added, then stopped when Loki started chuckling.
"I'm not going to," he caught his breath, shaking his head grimly. "Do you know how useless it is for me to try to do anything to anyone? The prison blocks my magic; yet apparently that has little effect on you, but that leaves me laughably helpless." he shifted his position against the wall, "Other than the fact that I am to stay here indefinitely, I'm kept under such heavy guard, my chances of fighting my way out are moot." he gave a wretched smile. "So if you think that I am going to try anything with you, please understand, there is no point!"
Sigyn stared at him from across the rooms, expression deeply vexatious. Something in that deeply pained look erased his sardonic, bitter smile. Sigyn seemed to be considering something for a moment, before swinging her legs off the side of the makeshift hammock and bringing herself her feet. She stalked towards Loki, who remained expressionless. When she was just a few steps in front of him, she crouched down to his level, opening her sketchbook. Sigyn silently flipped through the pages, then held one up for him to see.
Loki tried to convince himself that he didn't wince. But he did. The immaculately detailed drawing depicted a grotesque alien form, with a hood extending over the top of its face, leaving a twisted, malevolent grin filled with gleaming, pointed black teeth visible. It was eerie and nightmarish, making his blood run cold and mouth dry, because he knew what it was. Knew exactly who it was. He curled his lip into a sneer of disgust.
"Why would you want to depict something so foul?" Loki snapped, looking up at the stoic woman. Sigyn frowned thinly.
"That's the first thing that comes to your mind when I show you something like this? Not 'how do you know who this is?'" she responded tartly, shaking her head. "Never mind. Do you know who this is, yes or no?"
Loki swallowed and didn't respond, eyes tracing Sigyn's closed off expression and flicking back to the drawing. Slowly, she closed the book, rolling back on her heels. "I'll take that as a yes." she said as she stood and backed up once more. "I'm not trying to antagonize you, but I needed conformation."
"Confirmation?" Loki echoed as Sigyn settled back into the hammock and yawned.
"Objectives, remember? Everyone has them."
Let me know what you think! I have much, much more already written, and more to write, so will be posting it in pieces.
