As Loki and Sigyn aged into their teenage years, they grew closer. They could often be found shirking their sparring lessons in the Great Library, whispering over old tomes and scrolls. Neither of them was particularly fond of the arts of war. They could hold their own in a fight, surely, but they would rather not fight at all if given the choice. Loki had become more and more skilled with magic and words, and he also became a fairly good warrior. Sigyn, meanwhile, grew up into an excellent housewoman and lady of the court. She became a lovely, willowy creature, still so kind that it almost hurt. Many of Asgard's young men sought her hand, but she refused them all. It often confused Loki why she should deny so many suitors and instead keep him company.
Loki was of the opinion that he was nothing special. He was pale where most had a healthy glow, his hair an inky black, his eyes the color of the first spring leaves. He was not muscular but had strength, and he knew he was smarter than anybody else. It did not explain why Sigyn preferred his company to all others, but he knew it made him inexplicably happy.
It made him so happy for the same reason that his silver tongue ceased to work properly around her, for the same reason that he longed only for her happiness, for the same reason that made his heart leap with joy whenever she smiled at him or when she said his name or when he thought about her. It was the same reason he thought her beautiful even when she had just finished her barn chores or cleaned her home or scrubbed a floor.
Thor seemed to take pleasure from gently ribbing his younger brother about it, but he was one of a few who was genuinely happy Loki had found love. Unfortunately for Loki, Thor had yet to find love of his own, and so the younger prince had to wait to make his intentions known to Sigyn or anyone else.
He settled for showing his love to her in little ways. He would still produce a red rose for her whenever he saw her. Her face would light up, her cheeks flushing pink, her long eyelashes fluttering. Loki wanted to believe this meant she loved him in return, but he didn't really know. How could she love him when there were so many better suitors than he? The thoughts only left him melancholy.
"Brother, why the sad, far-off look in your eyes?" Thor asked him one day when he was in one of these dark moods, "You look as if someone has set the Nine Worlds on your shoulders."
"It is not of import."
"It bothers you. That is always of import to me."
Loki did not answer right away, looking out over the gardens. Thor stepped closer and followed his gaze. A clear, light voice rose up from the trees and flowers, a halo of golden hair shining in the sun.
"Does your melancholy state have to do with Lady Sigyn? Did you have a row?"
"No, I don't think we've ever had a row," Loki replied quietly, "I just… I wish only for her happiness, but I worry that… what if her happiness is not with me?"
"What do you mean?"
The younger prince finally turned to his brother and whispered, "Listen, brother, and keep it a secret for I shall tell no one but you. I love Sigyn. I love her more deeply than anyone can possibly know, and I long to marry her… but I fear she does not love me in return."
At this, Thor let out a bark of laughter. Loki was instantly angered, saying loudly, "What? Why are you laughing? I said nothing funny!"
"Oh, Loki," Thor said with a smile, "You are wise beyond belief, but you cannot see what is plainly in front of you, what is obvious, even."
Panic threatens to choke Loki.
Of course she doesn't love me. She already has another suitor. I should never-
"Of course she loves you, brother. I can see it in the way she looks at you."
Loki's head snapped up to look at Thor.
"Really? How can you tell?"
"Because you look at her the same way, Loki. Like you've never seen anything more wonderful and amazing in your life but can never have it. I wish I could feel love as deeply as you."
The information was still processing. Sigyn loved him back. He never thought it could be real. Thor's voice intruded on his thoughts, "You should tell her your feelings."
"Why? We cannot wed until you do."
"But you could be promised to each other."
Loki fell silent. That was true. If they were promised to each other, then she could have no other suitors. He wouldn't have to worry about anyone coming between them ever again. That thought made him very happy indeed. However, there was always the chance that Thor was mistaken. Loki didn't want to make a confession of love and be made to look like a fool. No. He would bide his time a bit longer. Brynjar did spoil his daughter endlessly, and he would listen to all her refusals of suitors as long as she wished him to do so. Waiting would be best.
He did, however, go down to the gardens to see her. She looked up when he laughed, for she was singing that same song she was singing on the day they first truly met, her fingers weaving another crown of flowers. He pulled a full red rose from thin air, saying, "Here, use this one, too. It will look beautiful on you."
"It's beautiful enough on its own."
"True, but you will make it more beautiful."
"You keep saying that backwards."
"I always say everything exactly as I mean it, Sigyn," Loki said quietly.
"How can I add beauty to a flower?"
"By simply having it near you. You add beauty to everything… all the time."
Sigyn's cheeks turned bright pink, and she looked away, muttering, "You don't mean that, Loki."
There it was, the little fluttering of his heart when his name fell from her lips. He whispered softly, "I told you just now… I always say everything exactly as I mean it."
She chewed her lip, staring at the bloom in her hands. Very quickly, a pair of soft lips were pressed to his cheek, and then Sigyn was on her feet and walking away, her wreath of flowers abandoned on the grass.
She took the rose with her.
