Unaccounted For
Prompt: Mischief
Disclaimer: I do not own Thor
He hadn't told her that he would be gone for the day until that morning when he was already almost out the door. She had laid there, watching him with one eyebrow raised, wondering if he too might have forgotten about it by the way he rushed.
"When will you-"
He's gone when she blinks.
"Be back?" She finishes quietly. She slides from bed, pulling on a robe. She wonders if Frigga had these problems with Odin but she highly doubts this. Odin, she likes to think, would have more sense than that. Sighing, she decides to get ready for the day, a day she hopes she can save after having her plans broken, a day, she quickly realizes, refuses to be salvaged.
It begins with a shoe.
She swears she knows where it should be. She stares at the place where it should be before throwing up her hands after an exhaustive search of the room, feeling foolish at losing her own shoe due to forgetfulness.
It continues with her inability to find the ring that he gave her on their wedding day. This is the search she occupies herself with into the afternoon, running her hand across every flat surface, pleading softly that it's been swept under one of his spell books.
But when she's gone over every place twice, she sits on the floor, hands covering her face. She stays there until she has to leave, wishing there was some way she could get out of meeting Frigga. But all of her excuses are flimsy and she rather not be caught in a lie. Swallowing, she walks barefoot in the halls, coming to balcony where Frigga sits at a small table, two cups filled halfway with wine already waiting. She keeps her gaze on the ground when she approaches her mother-in-law, embarrassed by the state that she arrives in.
"I was afraid you weren't coming," the elder woman says, smiling at the girl.
"I was held up."
"Oh?" Sigyn's cheeks tinge scarlet when the woman's eyes examine her. "Dear, where are your-?"
Sigyn sits quickly in the chair opposite Frigga. "It's a long story," she says, cutting off her mother-in-law. "You see, I've had a terrible morning."
"What happened?"
And she explains, frustration returning when she explains her searches. Frigga notices how she wipes at her eyes, hiding unshed tears as she explains that she fears she's lost her ring. Frigga pats Sigyn's hand.
"Take a little time to think, I'm sure it's there."
"I looked everywhere."
"When we become flustered, it's easy to overlook the small things."
Sigyn nods. And Frigga dedicates her time to taking Sigyn's mind off of it, hoping that the break will help the girl relax. Even when both glasses have been drained of their contents, they continue to chat casually until a servant interrupts, whispering into Frigga's ear.
"You will have to excuse me," she says to Sigyn. "I am needed elsewhere."
"That's quite all right." Sigyn smiles. "I should look again for-"
Frigga rests her hand on Sigyn's shoulder. "Don't worry if you cannot find them at this moment. Sometimes it just takes time."
When Frigga has gone, Sigyn hurries back, shutting the door behind her. She takes in the room, cursing his clutter and her not demanding he try to be at least a bit organized. Running a hand through her hair, she steps over to the jewelry box on the nightstand, hopeful for just a second that the ring will be sitting there for her to find, searching for a clip to pull back her hair. What she expects to be one disappointment, that the ring isn't there, turns into two, the ring and all the hair clips that she had neatly stored are missing as well.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she frowns, no longer able to cite this as her own overlooking. No, of the two of them, he is prone to losing things, knocking over books and scrolls because he's forgotten where he's put something. She is the organized one, she's the one who steps in while he's creating chaos, holding the thing that he's been looking for.
And then she knows and she can only scowl.
Rather than searching the room for her ring, she begins to look for what else has seemingly disappeared under her care, noting how many of the objects are tiny and, often, are insignificant.
She stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed, running over the list of all things unaccounted for: her hair clips, her ring, all of her jewelry -which didn't amount to much and she didn't wear often-, her shoe, the thread with which she embroidered -though, she concedes, one ugly shade of orange was still there-, and her mirror.
She stays there, going to sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for him, knowing he has to come back sometime. Her arms are crossed when he comes back, noticing the faint smile on his face. She doesn't return to the smirk.
"Miss me?" He asks.
Face plain, she strides over to him, kissing him, holding his face in her hands. He stares into her gray eyes, the smile still on his face. "If you don't put everything back, so help me, I'll see that you're more miserable than you've ever been."
He laughs. "I was wondering if you would notice."
"It can begin with you sleeping on the floor."
"All right, all right, give me a moment to undo the spell."