Part Two
Odin retired from the ceremony, running a hand over his face. One more step was done, he thought. He glanced at his wife who was smiling, still enchanted by the wedding ceremony. To her it had been a wedding, he knew, nothing more than a wedding. Perhaps, he thought, she had seen the vague politics that were underlying the whole ceremony, had seen the intentions to unite kingdoms without really sacrificing anything.
Of course, where he left content with how things had gone, she remained in the spirit of marriage. She had referenced ideas of seeing if Thor might be a suitable match for someone, thought that a future marriage for him should be looked into.
Yet, she hadn't seen the motivation that had been underlying it. He had been clever. If he would carry out his plans, truly put Loki on the throne of Jotunheim as he had decided years ago, he needed a guarantee that he wouldn't abandon the Aesir and ally himself with the frost giants. He needed something that could bind Loki to them and the answer had presented itself when it was suggested that the Aesir unite with the Vanir. The oldest unwed daughter, so quiet and obedient, would serve the purpose.
They didn't move for what seemed an hour. She simply laid there, staring at him while he looked back at her. Conversation felt too awkward for her and he seemed content to keep the silence.
She had been given expectations with marriage. Her mother had presented the worst possible scenarios, attempting to prepare her for what could lie in store. It hadn't been meant to frighten her, simply prepare her. Yet, he was not what she was expecting. He was distant, kind and trying to make the best of it. She knew she couldn't blame her for what happened and she felt he understood that she wasn't at fault for it either. They were simply two people put into a situation neither wanted.
"So," she began casually, unsure of how exactly she could make a smooth transition into conversation.
"Yes?"
"Marriage," she said with a barely there laugh. "I mean, I don't have any expectations."
He nodded and she wished he might say something so that she wasn't the only one forced into making awkward opening statements. Yet he continued to remain silent and she couldn't take that. Silence between her and a man who she hardly knew but would be sharing her bed for the indefinite future was torture to her. So, without any really cue, she began to talk about the time of Vanaheimr, detailing the nature that she remembered her home for.
She was surprised when he listened, nodding at this and that, murmuring understanding. He only spoke when she finished her recollection, unable to go on without crying a little. "I heard once that the Vanir could see the future."
"It comes and goes," she said. "When the future demands to be heard, it comes to us in dreams, otherwise, nothing."
He nodded.
"I can't help you, you realize," she said, suddenly feeling the need to put forth a disclaimer. "I cannot control what I see and when I see it. I cannot be at your beck and call to see the future."
"I wouldn't do such a thing to you." He reached out and touched cheek. "I must say though, I have expectations of you."
"What?" She squeaked.
"Your secrecy." He withdrew his hand. "Last night, I told you things I would prefer not to have repeated. I would like to continue to do so but I must have a promise that what I say will not be something for you to gossip."
"I promise." Her fingers curled around the sheets. "I can have your word that you won't speak of what I tell you, then?"
"Of course."
"I want something else."
"What?"
She inched closer, her voice quiet. "I want your promise that you will be loyal to me."
He raised an eyebrow. "And why should I promise that?"
"Because I promise to always be loyal to you."
She sat in his rooms, running through one the books that he had taken from the library without any intention to return it. She had gotten a third of the way through when he came in, tossing the golden helmet he wore to the ground, letting it clang against the floor. She glanced up, pushing the book aside.
"What is it?"
"Father intends to have Thor be his heir," he spat. "He overlooks everything that Thor has done." He ran a hand through his hair, collapsing into a chair. "Thor could incite war and he would be forgiven. If I did so much as break a cup, it would take years for me to be forgiven."
She rose, gliding towards him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and she pressed her cheek against his. "He is the eldest. It is expected."
"He is unfit to be king."
"I know, love." The same conversation had played out before in their marriage and Sigyn wanted to consider herself an expert at unwinding his rage. "But it is always the Allfather's choice and it will be his fault if he makes the wrong one."
He reached back, touching her hair, fingers gliding across her skin as they pulled back. "That's why your mother wanted you to marry him, to be a queen."
"I would rather be the wife of the second prince than a queen of his." She kissed his cheek.
"Sigyn."
She unwound her arms though he kept hold of her hand, leading her around towards him, pulling her down onto his lap. "You will have your moment to prove yourself, I promise you."
He frowned. "Have you seen something?"
"Snippets."
"And?"
"You need patience, love."
He held onto her. "I try. I try to be patient."
"Try harder," she said, pressing her palm against his cheek.
