(A/N): Another flashback! haha and thank you ALL my reviewers. Thank you :D I hope this chapter wasn't so boring? There's more of a storyline later, but I just wanted to establish more interaction between our two main characters for now.

Read and review! You guys are always so nice. Even if you have any little criticism, it all helps!

Chapter III

Thirteen felt like a strange age. Even though Sigyn felt small, the desire to act like an adult was so strong that she got lost somewhere in the middle. Girls were starting to talk about boys now in a different way. Elders were talking about marriage, the kids only a few years older than her were getting husbands and wives left and right. Her eldest sister was already set to marry someone. Soon, it would be Sigyn's turn.

The idea of being tied to someone the rest of her life was a concept she didn't quite understand. She only ever really wasted her afternoons daydreaming about one boy and that in itself was farfetched. Seven years had passed and Sigyn thought less and less of the boy in the garden. She was old enough to conclude that her little infatuation with him as a small child was due to the fact that Loki was simply different to anyone she had met at the time (and presently) and that his magic tricks was what had her so smitten.

She used to tell her friend Theoric about the prince all the time.

"I'll marry him and move to Asgard and become queen and do magic all day!" she recalls twirling around in the nursery, seven years old, a hand-crafted crown of paper around her head while Theoric busy playing with wooden toys, scrunching up his chubby face.

"Who's Loki?" the little boy had asked.

"I already told you Theo. He's the Prince of Asgard!"

"Thought Thor was the prince of Asgard."

"You don't know."

"I do, too! 'Sides, you're not allowed to do magic. You're not a farmer. And you're a girl."

"I can, too, do magic!" And it was true. Magic was reserved for the agriculture half of Vanaheim, the lower class that worked in the fields and villages. Hardly was it ever used as a form of entertainment or a hobby. Her mother never liked it that her youngest daughter rather spend time reading books and playing around with magic. The King had convinced her that it was just a phase Sigyn was going through, that by the time she was of age she would have stopped that sort of nonsense. So the Queen let it go at the time. As Sigyn got older, she'd had to be more discreet about the books she snuck up back to her room, the spells she practiced when everyone else in the palace was asleep. She liked playing with the other kids too, going down by the shore to chase waves.

Sigyn liked the way the incantations rolled off her tongue and made things happen. The feeling of that energy at the tips of her fingers being enough to change the things around her were indescribable. And she had Prince Loki to thank for that medium in which she developed a form of life that made her feel like herself.

Iwaldi announces that the Aesir King and his sons were due for another diplomatic visit to Vanaheim. The news made Sigyn feel like it was some sort of waking dream. Up until now, Loki had been this vivid yet distant memory, a prince on a pedestal, a figure of her fantastical childhood. At thirteen, she didn't know how to react. Part of her is excited at the prospect of seeing him again, whereas another part was afraid that maybe he wasn't as great as she made him up to be.

Inevitably, what Sigyn decided to do about it would get her scolded later. She didn't care. The Aesir arrive this time all on horses as she watches, sitting on her windowsill. She didn't know why she didn't want to go down to the landing to meet them. A princess was supposed to be well-mannered and approach the guest. A proper lady would have. A proper lady would not have chose to sit in the comfort of her room, spying from two floors up. The queen really did have a lot to worry about when it came to her youngest daughter.

A few of Odin's guard is there as he leads the way, his two sons right behind. If it was even possible, Thor had gotten bigger. He rides proudly, bulked and strong. Odin probably looked like that when he was younger, she thought. Definitely, the eldest son of Odin resembled a great warrior. For king, that was debatable.

Loki, on the other hand, was not the mirror image of his fifteen year old self or even of his father. He was taller, slighter than Thor, as always.

She can't hear what they're saying. While the Aesir king exchanges pleasantries with her parents, her brother and sisters are greeting the two princes. Utterly embarrassed at the way her sisters are being a little too friendly towards Thor, it's not nearly as embarrassing when Loki wore a look of confusion before he looks up and catches her staring from her window. She stumbled backwards, gasping, and shut the window closed, leaning her back on it to catch her breath. An ideal reacquaintance with her childhood object of fancy.

Great. Now she'd most certainly could not face him now. She had a strange desire to dissolve into a puddle. Was that how boys were supposed to make you feel?

When she sees her mother heading inside the palace, she realized it was to find her and yell at her. She had to get out of her room and get around the palace without being seen. Good thing she had gotten quite talented at shadow illusions.

The Vanaheim palace was full of pillars and corridors, making it easier to get around unseen. She knew she probably shouldn't go to the library. That would be the first place her mother would look. However, when she spots Loki heading that way...curiosity got in the way of her better judgment, if there she had any.

Once in the library, Sigyn carries caution to be as quiet as possible. Maybe she hadn't grown up at all, because now she was in the same situation she was before, too shy to go up and talk to Loki, hiding behind a bookshelf this time instead of a pillar, in the library instead of the garden. Seemed like nothing had changed.

A letter came in for Sigyn. Like most communication from the outer realms, any letters or messages from the outer realms got sent to the portal. Heimdall was the first recipient of anything that was sent the official way. From him, deliveries were sent straight to the palace, for there was hardly ever occasion for anything to go anywhere else in Asgard.

Sigyn imagined what the stoic Bifrost guard thought of the letter her mother sent. She wondered if the idea of a queen fussing over wearing the right dress and about who to impress had made Heimdall roll his eyes at such frivolity. Certainly those matters made her do so.

My Dear Sigyn,

To hear such great news of your introduction to the Aesirs's court does please me so. You still have much to do, but at least it's a start. Remember, dear, that you must take this as the opportunity to build a respectable reputation there so that the one you had in Vanaheim among the court may be restored.

Theoric asks about you all the time. He, as I, and every Vanir, wait the day you two will be joined. Do your realm that justice and favor by being the best princess you can be, Sigyn. Sincerely, I hope that you have not been wasting your precious visit in Asgard by reading books that have nothing to do with your duties as your father's daughter or playing with magic when you should be focusing. Be agreeable and always fix yourself to look your best. Wear that gold dress I picked for you, the one with the high collar. And please, Sigyn, try so very hard to not bare that unpleasant attitude you have sometimes. You are representing Vanaheim's most powerful and wealthiest family. They absolutely adore your brother there. When you return, I know you will have improved greatly. We'll have the wedding planned and ready by then.

Love,
Mother

"How tasteful," Sigyn murmured to herself as she folded the letter and threw it in a dresser drawer. She sighed, plopping down on the dresser stool, arms crossed. The same old rules and advice. What she often did after she got lectured by her parents was head to the library to get comfortable in some corner as she found solace in the combinations of words and ideas on every page. Sometimes they were stories, poems. Sometimes they were descriptions of old rulers and distant lands. Her favorites were the ones that taught her spells and charms.

I could do that here, she thought. The Asgardians's library was around here somewhere. She can't remember if she'd ever passed it and made a note to ask Elga when she heard voices coming from the courtyard. Once again, she was looking out below, leaning on the windowsill with her arms as men arrived back from the hunt. Thor, a lady Sigyn knew as Sif, Loki, and a couple of other men passed through. Bits and pieces of what they were talking about could be heard. Recounting their favorite parts of the outing, teasing each other, asking how much the boars weighed.

Loki lagged off to the side, looking absolutely indifferent. One of the men, heavy-built and ginger-bearded, had under his arm one boar and over his shoulder another.

None of them seemed to notice Sigyn watching from above, or so she thought until Loki halted his steps to gradually lift his gaze to hers. Right as she started to think she shouldn't have been spying, Loki gives a dramatic bow and comes back up grinning. Sigyn found herself laughing, returning a small nod before he follows the group's stead.

Elga and the other maids burst in just as the prince leaves her view. The maids begin tidying her chambers, Elga opens her wardrobe, fixing all the clothing, and one maid brings in a platter.

"I'm not hungry now, I'll in a few," she told her, then turns to Elga curiously. "Why are you looking through my clothes, Elga?"

"Reminder, m'lady, that the Queen's annual celebration ball will take place soon, a few moons yet," replied Elga. "Which did you plan to wear, m'lady? Always good to prepare in advance."

"You see that gold one?" Sigyn pointed as one of the maids sat her down to brush her hair. "Mother wanted me to wear that one. I feel as if she has eyes here in Asgard. I just know she'd know if I didn't wear it."

Elga pulled out the dress, long and silken in texture. Compared to the sapphire-colored one she wore at her introduction to court, this one was much less extravagant and more elegant. The color went up to her neck, and the top sequined with reflective crystals, leaving her arms bare, and the rest fell to the floor like a soft curtain.

"Very beautiful, m'lady," said on of the maids, and the rest nodded in agreement. Almost a little strange, how in sync they were and how they all thought so without saying another word. They never really talked much, except for Elga.

When the maids were done with their duties, Sigyn took it upon herself to roam the palace a bit more, to feel more at ease with her surroundings. She liked doing that, liked knowing every nook and corner. Asgard itself was quite big and she hadn't even seen the entirety of her current dwelling. The next hour or so consisted of Sigyn exploring corridors–empty and full–sitting rooms and lounging rooms, courtyards, exits and entrances, halls of different sizes, council rooms and like. That warm brass color was the same throughout the whole place, polished and bright.

Every now and then she'd run into people she was required to make conversation with but Sigyn never spoke to them too long. She preferred the company of her thoughts to the company of other people's presence.

She was walking rather slowly down a narrow way, eyes on the large windows on one side of the hall when she heard loud footsteps approaching. Looking ahead, she saw a towering figure, bulky and attention-grabbing. A second passed before she realized who it was, made known by the way his royal red cape followed behind him.

"Ah, Lady Sigyn!" Thor greeted her enthusiastically as he spotted her down the hall. "We're yet to have the chance to speak properly since you've arrived. The last time I went to Vanaheim, I do not believe I got to see you."

Sigyn smiled. There was no denying that as strong and as fierce Thor was, he was also, overall, good-natured. "My fault, I must say. I was busy being a wicked child, then."

"All grown up now! No more sneaking around, my lady?" Thor replied lightheartedly, completely missing the quick glint in Sigyn's eyes.

"Oh, no, not at all," said Sigyn. "How are you, my prince?"

"I should be asking you, shouldn't I? You're far from Vanaheim. Tell me, Princess, are you feeling welcome?"

Thankfully, the slight hesitation in Sigyn's reply went unnoticed by Thor. "Yes. Everyone's been very good to me."

Thor's smile was warm, welcoming. Unlike a good number of people here, Sigyn didn't feel at all intimidated or judged. "I'm glad to hear it. Were you headed anywhere, Princess Sigyn?"

"I–as a matter of fact...I wonder, Prince Thor, if you could direct me to where the library is?" He happily obliged, offering his arm as he lead the way. How easy it was to see, now, why so many adored Thor. He was a gentlemen. But it wasn't as if Loki wasn't either. She never had a small infatuation with Thor the way she did with Loki when she was younger. Apart from when she was first introduced to him when she was six, she barely remembers Thor at all. And the time he did come back to Vanaheim, the he was much farther from her thoughts than his younger brother was. Now that she actually had spoken more than three formal words to him, she decided she liked Thor. He reminded her an awful lot of someone she knew.

She didn't know how long she had been lurking around the library, sneaking between the bookshelves, but in that time there must've been a point where she had completely lost track because when Loki speaks, he is suddenly behind her.

"Little spy."

Sigyn turns around so fast that her lungs are grabbing for air to calm her down. She's relieved to see that there's a playful smile on the prince's face. That fact didn't exactly wash away any of her embarrassment, which only built up since he caught her looking earlier from her room. Pathetic was what her present condition was. A pathetic little child that had nothing better to do than pine after some foreign king's son that was much too old for her and apparently much too smart. Is this what those dim young women felt like when they were busy giggling over her brother or Theoric? She hated it. Hated it.

"You were always good at that. If I remember correctly, that's how I met you last time." Loki is still smiling and Sigyn can feel the scarlet work its way from the back of her neck to her cheeks. Vahalla, he must think I'm such an infant, she thought.

"I–Sorry, Prince Loki, I–"

But Loki put up a hand. "No need, dear Princess. Sigyn, isn't it? I did the same when I was your age. Still do. Life is much more fun in the shadows. Would you like to see how to do that properly? Undetected?" He's grinning and Sigyn can directly see now why he's been named God of Mischief. Written allover his face. Implied in every word, every flash of his white teeth. A mysterious, friendly, dangerous reminder.

She thought, maybe, she's too young to feel this eager. She says "yes" too quickly anyways.

Asgard's library was slightly larger than Vanaheim's. Upon entering, Thor parts poiltely from the princess and Sigyn is left to admire the endless shelves of words on paper by herself. The shelves ranged from tall wood ones that stood in the middle of the room, sectioned neatly, to shelves built into the walls, as if the literature grew out of them. There were two floors of it, and the structure of the room was more intricate than the vast rectangular hall she was used to.

In Vanaheim, she had read every text there was to read in the library. Here, she's skimming through titles, aimlessly running around, desperate to find something new, anything new. She finds a few novels that interest her, some even Midgard works. Initially anticipating on only getting one book, Sigyn carries about ten to a table to read.

She's just begun to take in the preface of the novel she picked when she's felt the happiest since coming to Asgard. This is where she liked belonging, living in a world of her own. She felt strong here, purposeful, as if the exquisiteness of her mind was reality. She got that feeling rarely–when she's in the middle of a story, in the midst of the midnight balls she always snuck off to (not the stuffy ones her parents forced her to go to), alone in the garden, room, study, magic thriving from her fingertips. Life was there, in those moments. Every other time felt like some grey-toned waking dream.

What draws her attention away from the page is the sound of the library door opening and closing.

"Haven't changed much from that bookish girl," Loki said. He was no longer dressed in his hunting gear, now in his traditional everyday clothing that was still exquisite for the more reserved son of Odin.

"Changed a little," she said.

"What's that you're reading, Princess?"

"Oh, this? Just a story, I suppose. Your regular romantic prose."

Loki smirked. "Never took you for a romantic."

"Would you call yourself a cynic, my lord?"

"Me?" Loki shook his head. "No. No, not in the most diminutive sense. I think that would surprise some. But it really shouldn't. Cynics are boring. Cynics don't dream. And me?" He holds out his hand, palm open. He conjures a purple spark, slowly turning into a bright, glowing light, flickering like the tail of a comet. Sigyn can't help but become mesirized at the sight of it, the strange hue it was, how natrual it looked in his hand. She doesn't know why.

For some reason, the library seemes darker than it was a few seconds earlier. A;; she can make out in her direct vision is Loki and his magic trick. In her peripheral vision, it was all complete darkness.

"I never stop dreaming," Loki finished, snapping his fingers with his free hand and the lights suddenly lit the library again, the purple glow gone as if it had never been.

"Have you been practicing magic like you promised?" Loki asked.

Like she promised. Sigyn smiled. "Yes."

"Show me."

He's teaching her everything, and little Sigyn, always so knowledgable, hung on to every word. She loves that she can transform objects at her will, make things appear, hide in plain sight. The language of magic sounds so foreign, so delightful the way they roll of his tongue that she wants to learn how to do that, too.

They went over the basics, the things she didn't understand when she was younger and studying these things on her own. With someone to tell her exactly how to do things, she realized that there was more direction in the things she was learning, wanting to learn. She didn't know what she'd do after Loki left again. No one was ever willing to teach her magic.

"Vanir do magic," said Sigyn after Loki had gone over the different types of magic different beings in other realms used. "But it's mostly the peasants. Mother and Father don't see the use for us to have to learn. I bet they let you in Asgard, don't they?" Sigyn stared at the text in front of her, the book illustrating different effects of different incantations. "I bet they let you do anything. Must be exciting."

"Oh they let me," said Loki. "Doesn't make me any more fascinating to them. People like Thor more."

He watched as Sigyn took in that piece of information for a moment. "I think it's fascinating. Is Thor nice?"

Loki chuckled. "To me, yes. To others, mostly."

"Are you nice?"

Though she was older, her bluntness reminded Loki just how young she still was. And it was refreshing, he'll admit, to have someone be so candid around him. Others were always either making fun of him or choosing their words carefully when they remembered what a trickster he was.

"Sometimes."

Sigyn shrugged, turning the page. "I think you're nice, my lord."

"Is that so? And how do you know you're not wrong?" he teased.

"I'm not wrong about people," she drawled. "I'm never wrong."

"You're a very crass child. You must get told that often."

Sigyn sat on top of the table and placed the book in her lap, eyes running along the pages, ignoring Loki's last comment. She had forgotten how embarrassed she was earlier. Now it felt just like she was talking to a friend. "I heard you were named God of Mischief. Do you like that?"

Loki paused, his lips slowly turning up at the corners. "Princess, I love it."

"But...but does anyone trust you? If you're the God of Mischief, that is."

"You have to trick them into trusting you, Princess Sigyn. That's my secret. Can you keep a secret?"

Sigyn nodded anxiously and Loki continued. "Does not matter how many times you've pranked them, lied to them. If they think they've outwitted you somehow by not trusting you, then they're all yours. When I want someone to do something, I let them think they did it all on their own. Let them think they've won."

"That sounds like an awful lot of work," Sigyn pouted. Loki let out a laugh.

"Well someone's got to do it. You need a bit of chaos, Princess. Something to change the balance. That's what I am."

Sigyn's eyebrows furrowed. "If you're that, then who's the balance?"

"I–what?"

"Who's the balance?"

Loki thought of exactly what her question meant. "I'm not quite sure. Not anyone I know of. Who knows? Maybe everyone else is the balance. Maybe I'm the odd one out."

"Oh." Sigyn only bobbed her head, understandingly. She didn't think much of it. Perhaps it would make sense when she was older.

Sigyn looked around, seeming to debate what spells she should practice when she settles on the book in her hand. Gradually, the book in her hand began to turn into a bouquet of blue flowers. When she was done, she looked up at the prince to see his reaction.

An easy enough feat for someone who claimed to always be practicing spells. Loki got the feeling there was more to it than the princess was letting on.

He nodded. "Good. Very Good, Princess."

"That was a trick. I could hardly call that magic," Sigyn retorted. Seemed she knew she was capable of more, too. Loki just didn't know why she wasn't trying harder.

He grinned and he could tell Sigyn didn't understand why. "Is that really the best you can do?"

Her gaze fell to the floor. "What makes you think I can do better?" she muttered.

He only stared at her, as if the sight of her could give away any secrets. This was when the pieces had the potential to fit together in Loki's mind. A start. "You're Vanir. Magic's in your blood, it's an integral part of your people."

"My people," scoffed Sigyn. "But not me. The farmers, the merchants, all the peasants. They're the ones that use it. They need it. Not a princess. They teach us basic healing spells. Anything the farmers use to make the fruits grow plumper or the grasses faster. But something like transformation? Illusion? Mother would be in hysterics at the notion."

"Is that what you've resigned yourself to?" He stepped so close, stopping right in front to face her. He took the book from her hands and set it down on the table. "Let's try this again. Show me. What you're really capable of." His eyes were directly on hers, daring her.

He had a strong sense that she did know she was able to do more advanced things. That'd Sigyn had done them before once or twice. She was holding back for a reason. Curious.

One more daring glance from Loki and Sigyn closed her eyes, concentrating. The library, full of books, faded into a deep color that was black and a million other colors and hues. Walls disappeared, shelves disappeared, the outline of the room disappeared. Specs of light appeared allover, different patterns everywhere. Stars.

Loki took a good look around to see what Sigyn had done. The two of them, in the space between all the realms.

"Magnificent," Loki said softly, taking in the illusion she created as it faded, placing them in the library once again.

"I suppose," Sigyn sighed. "Magic's more something I know about than actually can do."

"Yes," said Loki, remembering the night she had caught him using a small persuasion charm. "Observant of you. I was impressed. You have potential, though. That's what's so key. I see it in you. I can help you, if you like," then added with a fond smile, "Again."

"Help me?" Sigyn nearly whispered. The wide way her eyes reacted to his proposition reminded Loki of her younger self. "I–yes that, that sounds absolutely–I'd be very grateful, my lord. You must pardon me, my lord, but I am finding Asgard to be a bit too much like my home kingdom."

"And what's that?"

Sigyn pursed her lips in thought. "Boring."

"Oh, I quite agree." Loki took a seat next to her, picking one of the books off the table and glanced through it. "I would like us to be friends, Princess. That's what friends do isn't it?" He sounded like to he half trying to convince himself. "They help each other."

Sigyn looked almost dreamily into the distance, staring at nothing particular at all. "I would like a friend."

He thought she might. "As would I, my lady."

(A/N): Two lonely kids. ;P

Curious, readers. Who do you see as Sigyn? I have a few actresses in mind when I read about her. In my fic, she IS brunette, although I know a lot of fics make her blonde. But since Freyja was always blonde in my head, I decided to make Sigyn the opposite.

Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter, those of you readers who have stuck around to read my little fic. And to all those who have found me on tumblr and followed me, thank you to you, too! You are all cool cats.