Frigga's fingers were busy twisting the fine golden strands of Sigyn's hair into an intricate braid, pulling only half of the maiden's hair away from her face to let her softly waving locks fall about her shoulders. In the distance, a pearl white dress was lain neatly out on a table. Sigyn sat patiently, studying her neatly manicured fingernails as Loki's mother worked. Frigga's warm voice suddenly filled the air between them. "I remember when I was in your place, although it was many millenniums ago. I could hardly breathe. Ah, it was a beautiful day, much like this one…" Frigga said, finishing her braid and stepping back to examine her work, "There, finished. You look simply lovely, dear."
Sigyn smiled. "I haven't even put my dress on yet."
"Oh, what is a dress but a piece of fabric? I am sure one as beautiful as you could be wed in a potato sack and nobody would notice." Frigga laughed, walking over to the table where the wedding gown lay. Sigyn stepped into the gown and stood as a group of three maids tugged at laces and smoothed any folds to be found. It was a beautiful dress, its pearly fabric almost luminescent. The edges were lined in gold embroidery, and a long train cascaded behind her. Sigyn turned to look at herself in a mirror. Fit to marry a prince, she thought, although for a moment she forgot that her prince was Loki.
Frigga looked as if she may explode with excitement. "My Loki is lucky to be marrying a woman like you, Sigyn. Truly. Now, I must go spy on my son. I am sure he has had his own troubles this morning." The queen said, and embraced Sigyn before turning out the door.
The young maiden sighed, motioning for the three ladies-in-waiting to leave her for a moment. It was her wedding day, a day most girls dream about their whole life. Sigyn knew the man she was going to marry would certainly be a challenge, and for a while their life together would be everything but wedded bliss. She knew it was going to be difficult, but she didn't know why she felt so afraid.
But she had no choice. She wasn't quite sure what emotion filled her when she thought of the prince. He was a wild, scared, and utterly mad being trapped inside a body which didn't know if it wanted to be Asgardian or Jotun. But there was something within him Sigyn could feel was good. She had been there when Odin stripped away his powers. Where magic once was, there was now only room for more hate and anger. Or, if she was successful, love and peace.
"If Frigga can have so much love for him after all he has done, then I am sure I can as well." She said quietly, and turned towards the mirror again.
Loki sat alone, having demanded even Thor—especially Thor—leave him be. The air in his chambers felt thick and heavy. He was weak, and trembled ever so slightly with each breath he drew. It had not been three days since he knelt before Odin while he was stripped of his powers. Not three days since he had been humiliated in front of all of Asgard, since he fell to the floor hollow and devoid of anything that made him strong, made him a god. His magic was gone, but he was allowed to keep his title and his home. He should feel lucky, he was told. It had not been three days since Odin reduced his son to nothing but a shell, and now the same man was going to bind him in life to perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever beheld. Loki emitted a low laugh, sinister and growling. None of this made sense. How could these events possibly be connected? Was he dreaming? Was he dead? No. It was all real, all twisted and mangled together in was mess that was his life, and he couldn't do anything about it.
He heard a small noise at his doorway and looked up to see Frigga, small and almost fearful as she approached him. He let her come in. If there was anybody in Asgard he still chose to extend his small, frayed trust to, it was Frigga. She was still his mother. Fathers were different—Loki didn't know if he would ever call Odin his father again—fathers were rash men, full of cold and judgment with the ability to disown and destroy. Mothers were caring, with only the want to make sure their children were safe, warm, and happy. Their lessons were taught in other ways, and Loki, despite the fact he had betrayed them, remembered Frigga's lessons best.
The woman smiled, holding out her warm had to Loki. He took it, almost like a reflex, and looked up to her face. "You look worried, my love." Frigga said. Loki nodded, gaze lowering to the floor. His eyes focused on a small scuff on the stone.
Loki was quiet, searching his mind for something to say to Frigga. He could only think of one thing, and the overwhelming need to say it made Loki's tongue itch. He inhaled, sharp and ragged. He felt the wetness of tears forming in his eyes. "I'm sorry, mother." He choked.
Frigga took her son's head in her hands. "Oh, Loki… None of this would have happened if we… if I hadn't lied to you. Your actions are your own, and you must face the consequence of that. But I cannot go without thinking that at least part this mess did not stem from the actions of your father and I." Frigga felt tears against her palms, and raised Loki's chin to brush them away.
Loki nodded. He slowed his breathing and stiffened his jaw, looking up at his mother. He stood, brushing his clothes with his hands. He was dressed in his green and gold, in full armor and regalia as any Asgardian warrior should be on their wedding day. Frigga smiled to see his hair had been cut, returned to its usual length which skimmed his collar. She had thought he looked rather like a sheepdog while his hair was still long. The cuts on his face had nearly healed, except for a spot of red along the bridge of his nose.
"Do not look so glum, Loki. It is your wedding day. Your bride is astonishingly lovely. Asgard will celebrate today." Frigga said, buffing out a fingerprint on Loki's armor with the edge of her sleeve.
"Hardly celebrating, I think. Why would Asgard celebrate the wedding of their most reprehensible citizen? Wasn't it only two days ago that Asgard was gathered to hear my punishment and spit upon my person?" Loki said, tone gruff.
"You cannot think this way, Loki." Frigga said.
"Why not? It is only the truth. And I cannot afford to ignore the truth any longer." Loki's voice increased in volume. "I do not live in ignorant bliss. I will not hide in denial! They do not see their prince anymore, mother, they see a killer. A liar, a cheat, a monster! They will not celebrate today. They will whisper, they will gossip and spread black rumors around with each pass of their wine bottles. They will wonder what delusional thing must have been running through Odin's head to allow 'that deranged son of his' to be married. They will stand with false smiles upon their faces while they really stand in fear. And they will thank you for the meal afterwards. A wedding? Yes. A celebration? Never." Loki's face burned with anger as his last words resounded through his chambers. He stood, staring at the ground. Something inside of him clicked when he looked up and saw Frigga, who now stood several paces away with wide eyes. Loki realized what he had done.
"Forgive me, mother." He breathed.
Frigga shook her head. "You are so wronged, my son. How can it be that there is so much blackness inside you?" She whispered.
"I think it has always been there." Loki replied darkly.
They heard a knock at the door. It was a guard, come to inform them the time for the ceremony had come. Frigga peeled away to refresh her appearance one last time, and Loki went to the great hall to find his place on the stair beneath Odin.
It was a quiet ceremony. Loki looked around at the many faces of the court. Many were placid, many angry, but a few still smiled. He looked across to find his brother, whose eyes were full of warmth. He looked over to Frigga, who could not keep from crying. Above him, Odin spoke clearly to all the members of the assembly, and occasionally the Allfather glanced down at his son. Loki could only detect uncertainty in Odin's expression. Beside him stood Sigyn, more beautiful than she had been the first time they'd met. She smiled warmly at him, and he nearly jumped as he felt her small, warm hand wrap around his fingers. He closed his eyes and imagined, just for a minute, that none of the horrible things he had done had ever taken place. That he'd never let go of his father's staff on the rainbow bridge, that he'd never waged war on Midgard, that Odin had never told him of his true parentage. And just for that moment, Loki smiled.
Sigyn watched, only wondering what would happen when that smile fell.
