Warnings: None?
A/N: I'm sure you don't want to hear my excuses for not updating, so on with the chapter!
Chapter Ten—The King's Bride
"I expect you to arrive an hour before noontime in two day's time," Loki was saying to Mim as the two stood away from the escort as they took their noontime meal, Loki holding the reins of his mare, ready to climb into the saddle and ride for Utgard with all speed.
Mim rolled his eyes at Loki's nagging tone, saying, "Honestly, you're beginning to sound like my mother."
Loki glared at his friend, looking like he wished to retort but thought better of it when his emerald eyes flicked to gaze beyond Mim. The king frowned before saying, "I'll take my leave. Don't do anything stupid, Mim." With that, Loki had vaulted onto his mount and spurred her forward, urging her into a gallop that sent a cloud of dust up and into Mim's face.
Coughing, Mim turned away from road to find that Sigyn had approached him from behind. That must have been the reason for Loki's hasty departure. Mim fought the temptation to snicker, deciding Sigyn's resulting confusion would only lead to an awkward explanation on his part. "Ah, hello princess. Did you enjoy your meal?" questioned Mim, a sunny smile across his face.
"Was that Loptr?" questioned Sigyn, ignoring Mim's greeting and instead peering beyond his shoulder at the retreating back of Loki.
"Oh, yes, it was," Mim said, making his voice as airy as possible before he explained, "I sent him ahead of us to deliver a message to the King that we will be arriving within two day's time. Sometime before noon, if I remember correctly." Loki would have given him a square punch in the shoulder for that comment, making Mim very glad his friend was already well out of hearing range.
"Oh," was Sigyn's simple reply, her expression betraying her disappointment at his departure.
Mim's face adopted a rather peevish grin as he asked, "Why the sad face, your Highness?"
"No reason," Sigyn replied with a distracted shrug before her eyes fixed on Mim and a teasing grin spread across her face, "He just was the best company this escort had to offer."
"Such words, such insults!" Mim declared dramatically as he clutched his chest as though he was wounded, making Sigyn laugh at his antics. "They stab me straight through my very heart!" Before Sigyn could reply, Mim caught sight of Fulla as she passed by and he hurriedly told the princess, "If you'll excuse me, your Highness, I must go speak with yonder fair maiden."
"Be off with you then, you rogue," Sigyn replied, around laughs. Giving her a brief bow, casting a wink at Sigyn over his shoulder before he turned to the maiden he hurried to catch up with. Sigyn shook her head at the dark haired man, watching with slight jealously. She was happy for Fulla, who seemed to finally find a man that didn't make her so embarrassed that she was incapable of coherent speech when he addressed her, but she couldn't help wishing her and Fulla's places were traded. That Sigyn was the maid that would freely be able to talk with guards or advisors without the worry of the fate of two kingdoms resting upon her shoulders; that she could laugh and blush at their compliments to her.
But, she reminded herself, she couldn't be selfish. She had to be brave and set aside herself for Asgard and for her people. She had made the agreement with herself to ignore Loptr, to not even allow let her gaze to linger on him for more than a moment. And she planned to stick to this agreement, to stay faithful to her husband. He may not be as attractive as Loptr, but she would be loyal to him alone. She nodded in her resolution.
"Good day to you, Fulla." Sigyn turned to watch as Mim as he greeted her maid, a smile lighting her face at the sight. "Say, have I ever told you of the time I went on a boar hunt?"
Loki stood tall and proud, refusing to fidget even under the weight of his golden crown. He wore his emerald cloak over his bare torso—it felt oddly comfortable to free himself from the constrains of the thick, rigid leather armor and have his skin be exposed to the biting Jotun winds once more—while his Marking were painted a vivid blue once more. Gungnir was in his hands, having remained in its spear form since the last trial, and it offered him some small support.
He stood at the center of the great, looming entrance archway that led into Utgard's halls. Below him was the palace's courtyard and the formidable stone walls that separated the castle from the gorge that was spanned by a narrow bridge which led from the southern rode and to the great gates. All of this, he stood above, watching from his perch. An emerald carpet was unfurled on the great steps before him, the members of the court and warlords standing at attention on either side. "Your Majesty," Thiazi said as he stepped into his own place at the right hand of the king, bowing slightly.
Loki slightly inclined his head to Thiazi though did not turn his eyes to look upon him, asking in an even tone, "Is everything prepared for her arrival and the ceremony of intent?"
"Yes," Thiazi replied, turning as Loki was to keep watch out over the courtyard and the bridge beyond, keeping a close watch for the arrival of Mim and the princess he accompanied. "I have learned by rote my words for the ceremony and the queen's chambers have been prepared for her."
Despite not being the sovereign queen yet, she was Loki's intended wife and thus made it tradition for her to occupy the queen's rooms. Not since the death of Farbauti, Loki's mother, nearly seven years ago, had anyone entered into the chambers at the top of the southwest tower, being left locked as a sign of respect, but after the agreement to the treaty had arrived from Idavoll, Loki had charged a small army of palace maids to clean and completely redecorate the chambers.
"Excellent," Loki nodded. The king remained silent for a moment before he glanced up to the sun overheard, saying, "Mim is going to be late. But that is no surprise." As if in response to the king's comment there were three trumpet blasts that echoed over Utgard and Loki couldn't help keeping a smile from curling onto his face. He could just imagine his friend's smug face at the grand entrance he made, as well as being precisely on time.
From the road appeared the escort, though not looking nearly as worn and dusty as when Loki had left them. They all were glinting in freshly polished armor, vividly dyed tunics, and extravagant clothes. At the head of the guard rode Mim, his dark brown curls falling regally about his face and the navy and storm gray of his cloak was accented by the silver clasp he wore about his throat. But, what was more eye catching, was the woman in the scarlet and gold of Asgard that rode at his side.
A gold veil obscured her face and intricately braided hair, falling about her in a rippling wave of silk. Over the veil, resting upon her brow, was a golden circlet set with glinting rubies. She truly was a sight to behold, her facial features a mystery to all that looked upon her while she held herself with such grace and majesty that there was no doubt in anyone's mind who this woman was. Loki found, like most everyone else, that he was incapable of looking anywhere else.
The escort passed between the great iron gates of Utgard, between the lines of warriors that guarded Jotunheim, before finally halting their mounts at the very base of steps that led up to where Loki stood, right to the edge of the emerald carpet that stretched down over the main stairs. Taking one final moment of solitude in studying the veiled woman, Loki raised Gungnir for all attention to be turned onto him.
"Today, we have gathered inside the great walls of Utgard to greet a woman, the princess of Asgard, that has journeyed to ensure peace between our realms by sitting beside me on the Ice Throne and becoming the queen of the Jotuns," Loki began. He paused as all those present cheered their approval before he raised Gungnir for silence, which was soon achieved. "I, King Loki, son of Laufey, proud descendant of the house of Utgard, protector of the north, and the sovereign of Jotunheim do welcome the Princess Sigyn of Asgard, only daughter to the Emperor Odin, to her new home at the palace of Utgard. Now, I ask the Lord Thiazi of Thrymheim to continue with the ceremony of intent."
The ceremony of intent was the official betrothal of the bride and groom to one another. Despite the agreement of the treaty technically being when Sigyn and Loki became promised to one another, it was Jotun tradition to hold the ceremony of intent when the woman entered her to-be husband's home which was always precisely six days prior to the wedding ceremony.
Loki stepped to his left so as to allow Thiazi to step into the center of the entrance and command the crowd's attention. Unlike a noble and commoner's ceremony of intent, the royal ones included the people of Jotunheim as a royal marriage was not just binding a man to a woman, but also the crowning of a queen to rule with the already proven king. The queen did not have to undergo the trials of twenty-night battles, but she had to win the approval of her people as they bore witness to her official engagement.
"People of Jotunheim, you have gathered today to act as witnesses to this ceremony, where our king, Loki, shall promise to the Princess Sigyn and to Jotunheim that he shall take her as his wife and as your queen. I now ask the Lord Mìmir of Gastropnir, heir of the Lady Menglad, to present the bride to the king and his people," Thiazi commanded.
At this cue, Mim slid from the saddle of his horse, his mare being led away by a stable boy as he moved to offer a hand to Sigyn, her white-gloved hand grasping his and she gracefully slid to land with a light thud onto the emerald carpet. Loki's gaze did not waver from her. It was true that her perfect legs and arms—even her elegant neck—were now covered in scarlet and golden silk, but her curves could not be hidden so easily and Loki felt as though he should be punished for looking at her so, like he was violating her by simply watching her ascend the stairs with grace and ease.
Her reaching the top of the great steps finally drew him back into focus as he hurriedly diverted his eyes to Thiazi, hoping she did not recognize him. He did want her to hate him for his deception; that he lied about his identity to her. Part of him secretly wished that she would recognize and be glad of it. Show that his interest in her was returned. But that was something he dared not admit to himself that he hoped for, as he feared it would only lead to his inevitable disappointment.
It was Mim's part in the ceremony, he stood in for the bride's father or brother as he had been the one to take her under his care in journeying to Utgard, and he dutifully declared to the people assembled, "I, Lord Mìmir of Gastropnir, do present the Princess Sigyn to his Majesty, King Loki, and the people of Jotunheim for their approval and the declaration of intent towards marriage."
"People of Jotunheim," Thiazi continued, turning to the crowd assembled. "Do you accept the princess as the king's wife and your queen?"
There was a ripple of conversation that burst out through the crowd as the Jotuns assembled discussed this in hurried whispers. Loki schooled his expression to remain emotionless. His people could end this treaty right then, if they disapproved of the Asgardian princess. He would never need worry about the princess thoughts toward him or his disguise as a guard nor would he need to constantly need to protect the fragile peace established between his realm and hers. But then again, he would never look upon her beauty nor would he hear her wit. But, above all else, the promise he had sworn to his father on his death bed would be broken within a two months of swearing it.
Finally, a single, "Aye," rose from the crowd, in the section of the warlords. Loki's eyes immediately flitted to where Menglad stood at the center of them all, her head held high and confidently. Upon noticing the king's gaze upon her, the lady grinned at her monarch and slightly inclined her. And then the rest of the warlord's slowly chorused their agreement, some more reluctant than others. The commoners were the last, but most enthusiastic, to chime in their agreement.
Nodding at this, Thiazi declared, "Jotunheim has spoken; we accept the princess as our future queen and bless her marriage to our king." He turned from the masses to gaze at the two that stood closest to him. Loki, in his deep emerald green to his left while Sigyn stood, obscured in scarlet and golden silks, to his right. "And now, I ask our King Loki of his intent to the Princess Sigyn. Do you intend to honor her before marriage?"
"I do so intend," Loki immediately replied, fixing his gaze upon Thiazi and not daring to look upon Sigyn.
"Do you intend to respect her as a woman and princess both before and after you are bound to one another?"
"I do so intend."
"Do you intend to uphold Jotun tradition by not looking upon her face until after the wedding, so as not to bring upon your marriage dishonor and a malicious fate?"
"I do so intend."
"Do you intend to now officially declare her the woman you are engaged to wed?"
"I do so intend."
Thiazi nodded to this before turning to Sigyn. "Now I ask the Princess Sigyn of her intent to our King Loki. Do you intend to be a loyal wife and queen?"
"I do so intend," she replied from behind her veil. Unbeknownst to Loki, her blue eyes were fixed upon him. She was intrigued by him not only because he was to be the man she would spend the rest of her life with but also because she knew she had seen him before. But, behind her veil it was a difficult task to see distinguish facial features, even of the king who stood directly before her.
"Do you intend to honor your husband and fulfill every duty as his wife?"
"I do so intend."
"Do you so intend to never reveal your face to him until after the wedding, so as not to bring upon your marriage dishonor and a malicious fate?"
"I do so intend."
"Do you so intend to now officially promise yourself to this man as his wife?"
"I do so intend."
"Then, before the eyes of Jotunheim, I pronounce King Loki and Princess Sigyn as promised to one another with their intent now declared. They shall be wed six nights from this very night, to display their trust and honor in one another in the wedding dance as well as a traditional Asgardian ceremony that shall be a symbol of the peace treaty that led this couple to be wed."
The crowd roared their applause to this while Sigyn took in a deep breath. There was no turning back now. She was bound to him now, the King of Jotunheim, her country's greatest foe. The only way out now was for her failure of the wedding dance but that would only lead to the war she had hoped to avoid with agreeing to the treaty. She looked upon her fiancé, and as if sensing her gaze, his eyes finally turned to look upon her. Sigyn's breath caught in her throat. Even behind her veil she could see a pair of deep, piercing emerald eyes.
"Well…this is…" Fulla began as the two Asgardian women were left alone in the queen's chambers to settle in. The maid, her sandy brown hair braided back in an intricate up-do that managed to combine Jotun and Asgardian styles in one hairstyle, swiveled her head about, her doe brown eyes wide in wonder. She took in the sight of Sigyn's new chambers—the queen's chambers—and Fulla had to agree, they certainly were fit for royalty.
The walls were gilded with intricately carved wooden panels that depicted past Jotun queens while the plush parlor furniture—the first room of the set of chambers—were covered in soft furs and made of rough wood that only gave the room a cozy feeling. It was nothing like the traditional floor cushions and low to the ground bed pallets back in Asgard, which were designed for staying cool in the heat, but rather warmth against the constant bitter Jotun winds. Fulla found she quite liked it.
"Amazing?" Sigyn finished, looking over at her maid with a wide grin.
"Yes," Fulla nodded, returning the grin before moving to flop onto the settee, pulling thick gray pelt about her, smiling contently at its warmth.
Chuckling at her maid, Sigyn settled herself on the settee as well, pulling black furs across her. It felt magnificent to simply sit and relax. Her bones ached and her mind was weary. She relished being free of her dreaded veil for at least a time, that she could see and breath clearly. She only wished to sleep for a time, to forget she was in a foreign palace that was her new home or that she needed to begin lessons on how to dance a wedding dance so difficult Jotun girls began when they were eight. She sighed as her eyelids finally fluttered closed, savoring the feeling of relief that washed over her.
"Mim was saying that Loptr was sent from Utgard on an errand from the King," Fulla said, offhandedly.
"Hmm?" Sigyn asked, barely listening to her maid.
"Mim, or Lord Mìmir. He insisted I call him Mim." Sigyn faintly smiled at this but nodded for her maid to continue. "Well, he said Loptr is away on an errand."
This time, Sigyn fully heard her maid's words and she suddenly remembered her realization at the very end of the ceremony. She supposed that in between the fuss the servants made over her luggage and her room, those thoughts had been pushed to the back of her mind. Her eyes flew open and she suddenly sat up, making her fur blanket slid off her and crumple onto the ground. Fulla blinked at her in shock, but the princess hurriedly exclaimed, "Fulla! Loptr is Loki!"
"What?" Fulla exclaimed, disbelief clearly written across her face.
"During the ceremony," Sigyn explained, "I could not see his face clearly because of my veil and the angle he held himself at, but then after we were officially declared intended for one another, he turned to look upon me and I saw his face for the first time—he has those same emerald eyes!"
"I—but, but why?" Fulla asked, confused. "Why would he disguise himself as a guard?"
"Maybe because he wanted to ensure Lord Mìmir was successful in keeping to the treaty?" Sigyn suggested, that being the only logical answer that came to mind. She liked Loptr more than she cared to admit but she couldn't allow her hopes to be raised in such a way, as she feared it would lead to disappointment.
"Surely it was to meet you, his future queen?" Fulla replied, voicing Sigyn's unspoken hope.
Before Sigyn could reply there was knock on the chamber door—another difference from Asgard where only doors were used for the throne room while most private chambers had open archways that allowed for cool air to enter—and the princess called, after snatching up her discarded veil and sloppily throwing it over her head, "Enter."
Much to both the women's surprise, a formidable lady with dark brown pulled back into a neat braid bustled in with a rather bemused Mìmir following her, his gray eyes briefly flicking over to Fulla and giving her wink before turning back to the woman he followed, saying, "Princess Sigyn and Maid Fulla, if I may present my mother, Lady Menglad of Gastropnir."
"Yes, yes," Menglad said, waving her hand at her son as if to shoo him away. "Enough of that. I'm here for a reason. The King has asked my son and I to teach you the wedding dance so as not to disgrace yourself, the King, and all of Jotunheim." Menglad fixed her gaze onto Sigyn, barking out, "Take off that stupid veil and let's see you properly."
Trying to restrain the amused grin on her face, knowing that it wouldn't be appreciated by this no-nonsense woman, Sigyn did as ordered and reached a hand up and gratefully pulled her s gold veil from her, revealing her mass of red curls and her face. Menglad didn't seem the least bit fazed by Sigyn's red hair—although unheard of in Jotunheim—much unlike the other Jotuns she had met that couldn't seem to get past the color and found her delightfully exotic because of it. An image of Loptr—or Loki—flashed through her mind but she effectively ignored it. "It's such a shame that scarlet is one of Asgard's colors, it does nothing for red hair," Menglad observed, disapprovingly.
"Yes, if only she was wearing emerald instead," Mìmir quipped, giving Sigyn a teasing smile and a wink.
Menglad ignored her son as she glided farther into the parlor, settling herself onto a chaise lounge chair covered in snow white furs, saying as she did, "We shall not start dancing today. That scarlet it too horrid to even bother dancing in and any way, my son still needs to find a spare room to dance in." She shot him a look that said he needed to find something else as well which made Mim roll his eyes and chuckle slightly.
Sigyn wasn't entirely sure how she was to respond to this so she simply said, "I suppose you're right."
"Yes I am," Menglad nodded before continuing on briskly, "Mìmir will begin with teaching the couple's part of the dance. He should know that well enough." She took that opportunity to shot him another look. "And I shall be observing and critiquing on the side. My son tells me that Maid Fulla knows the beginning of the dance so we shall all collaborate together in our efforts."
"Do you think I'll be ready in time for the wedding ceremony?" Sigyn asked, hoping against hope that the answer to this question was yes.
Menglad fixed the red headed princess with a determined look, like she had found herself her next personal project that she was, under no circumstances, going to fail at. "If I am helping you, you shall be the most graceful bride to ever dance at a Jotun wedding," Menglad promised, her sincerity written plainly across her face.
"I hope you have your dancing shoes on and left your ugly scarlet dresses in your closet," Mim announced as he strutted into a large, empty room with arching windows and plain stone walls and floors, leading Fulla and Sigyn. Menglad was already impatiently pacing across the room, shooting her son a scowl as he entered.
"Mìmir," Menglad said, her chastising tone not making Mim even blink, he was so used to it. "When I said dance lessons were to begin promptly at half past ten, I meant half past. Not half past and then some."
"My dear old mother loves to keep to her schedules," Mim explained, breezily before continuing as he shot a winning smile to Menglad, who bristled up at this, "But let us not doddle and dive right into our first lesson!" Sigyn watched the exchange between mother and son—finding it oddly endearing that the two bantered back and forth so, albeit Menglad more harshly then Mim—before focusing her attention on Mim as he took position in the center of the room, offering a hand to the princess which she hurried to take, not wanting to waste a moment of her lessons in the preciously small amount of time she had.
"Since we only have six days before the wedding," Mim began before adding, just for the sake of being dramatic, "As it would be positively scandalous for a woman to live in her groom's home unmarried for more than six days, we must begin with the intricate art of Jotun danc—"
"Today, you'll be learning from Mìmir the wedding couple's portion of the dance," Menglad interrupted before Mim could get too carried away, shooting him a dry look before continuing. "This is the hardest part of the dance with neither the groom nor bride being able to make eye contact. Mim should be able to teach you how to dance this part quite easily as he has had much practice."
"Honestly, mother," Mim laughed, "It's like you're trying to hint at something." Fulla giggled at this, making Mim adopt a rather satisfied smirk while Sigyn tried to restrain rolling her eyes. Mim was much too charming for his own good at times.
"Just get on, you great sod," Menglad replied, crossing her arms, fixing with her son with an expectant look that left room for no argument and was unrelenting, even in the face of Mim's bright grin.
"Right then," Mim said, turning back to Sigyn. "This dance is to symbolize the couple's life together as they weather every trial with each other's trust and support. The dance was originally more of a war ritual that had developed through the years to be used for weddings. In any case, you first must place your left hand on my shoulder."
Sigyn hurriedly did as she was told before Mim gave her a dry look. "Your other left hand."
"Oh, right, sorry," Sigyn laughed, sheepishly as she switched her hands, removing her right and placing her left hand on his shoulder.
"Good, now take hold of my other hand." She took his offered hand. "And I place my free hand at your waist. Alright, so this is the basic position of the dance. You and King Loki will meet each other in the center of the dance floor and immediately come into this position and remember never to meet his eyes. Of course, you'll be wearing a veil, but the point remains. Anyway, after that, the steps are simple at first."
"First we got right. It goes one, two, three, one, two, three," Mim instructed, his footwork light as he attempted to led Sigyn, who was having a hard time getting her feet to move at the same time as Mim's and only ending in stubbing her toes and tears of pain to prick her eyes. Seeing her expression, Mim assured her, "Don't worry, princess, you'll get the—ow!" He cut himself off suddenly as Sigyn accidentally stomped on his foot.
"Ow, ow, great King Thrym!" Mim exclaimed as he hopped about clutching his throbbing foot. Sigyn felt bad at the state of Mim, but it really was hard to restrain an amused chuckle as Menglad was laughing fully at her son and Fulla was hiding her giggles behind her hand, looking embarrassed despite herself. "What are you wearing on your dancing slippers? Spearheads?" Mim demanded before noticing all of them laughing at his pain. "You all are horrible people."
"Calm down, dear," Menglad soothed, snorting a bit as she did. A noise like that from any other woman would have been undignified, but from Lady Menglad, whose mere presence was stately, it seemed almost proper. "How about I practice with the princess and you and Maid Fulla can demonstrate?"
Mim's face immediately turned from indignant to jovial as he practically dashed across the room to Fulla, exclaiming as he did, "What a marvelous idea! Maid Fulla, if you would care to join me in demonstrating for our dear Princess Sigyn?"
Fulla simply shook her head in amusement at his antics, accepting his offered hand nonetheless. Sigyn, not at all as pleased with this new arrangement, found herself with Menglad, who was acting the part of the groom, which seemed slightly inappropriate as Sigyn was quite a bit taller than the lady. "Now, no more wasting time, everyone!" Menglad barked, regaining order to the dance lesson as Sigyn situated herself in the basic position she had already been taught. "Mim, if you would lead us?"
Obediently, Mim counted off the rhythm of the dance and then Menglad began to lead Sigyn around the room. "Pick up your feet, girl!" she barked at the princess when she once more began to stub her toes. "A queen does not drag her feet." The rest of the morning's dance session was spent in much the same fashion, with comments from Menglad that ranged from a simple, "You are as light as a feather, so dance that way!" to much more motivating exclamations such as, "Honestly, do they not teach anyone to dance properly in Asgard?"
Despite being an utterly terrifying experience for Sigyn—and a rather merry one for both Fulla and Mim—the princess had to admit they did make quite a bit of progress for their first morning of lessons. Of course, that was until Menglad informed her that they had only learned the first minute of the nearly twenty-minute long dance.
The third night after Sigyn's arrival to Utgard found the royal palace relatively quiet as no grand dinners were being held and the preparations for the wedding throughout the day had ceased as night fell. The princess, having spent much of the past two days in the company of a cheery Mim, bashful Fulla, and frequently cantankerous Menglad, had retreated to the queen's chambers for the remainder of the evening, not entirely sure how long her sanity would remain with her.
She currently was situated in a nest of furs, reading over her nearly illegible scrawl across the parchment before her, absent mindedly nibbling the tip of the quill she had in hand, poised to make corrections to her letter. In between traveling, dancing, and being so tired she was barely capable of coherent thought, she had forgotten to write to Balder. She was making up for it with writing a lengthy scroll's worth recounting her journey north and her first two days at her new home. Balder would no doubt complain on the length of it when he replied but she was making especially sure to not give him reason to complain on her grammar as she read through it.
He could be a real pest about grammar and spelling.
Sighing, Sigyn set aside her quill, blowing on the drying ink for a brief moment before rolling the parchment up into a neat scroll. Collecting herself from the settee, she stuffed the scroll into the pouch at her belt—one of the more practical aspects to the traditional Jotun dresses—before dusting off her pale blue skirts and sweeping out of the queen's chambers.
It was hard to believe that she had departed from her home nearly a month ago, that she hadn't see Balder, her mother, or father for four weeks. And Thor even longer. It felt like a lifetime ago, that she had agreed to the treaty and that she has changed so much since then. But then, at the same time, it felt like only a blink of the eye since, that it had blurred by quickly and that she hadn't changed in the least. It was confusing feeling, she decided as she continued along the corridor that ran from her room, hoping she remembered the proper way to the raven coops that Mim had shown her on her first full day in Utgard during the grand tour he conducted for her.
She somehow felt like she doing something brave but at the same time found herself petrified. She had been so busy with worrying about memorizing the steps of the dance—a task that was her most immediate of trials to face—but she also couldn't push aside the worries of her life after the wedding, of her marriage. As the Queen of Jotunheim—a position that hasn't been filled for seven years—she would be expected to rule the Jotun people as though they were her own, though the nagging worry they would never accept her still persisted; that they would always see her as the foreign bride their king had taken so as to ensure a fragile peace that could be shattered at any moment.
Then there was the worry of being a wife. Her mother had assured her that being a mother was a joyous, wonderful thing. That it was every woman's greatest honor in life to be a mother to a child, boy or girl, and help them grow and become something that any parent would be proud of. Sigyn twisted her hands nervously at this thought. She had never considered children seriously before, she accepted it would become a reality some day, but now she found that day sooner than she thought.
Her mind stumbled over the thought this led to. As a wife and queen, she would need to share the king's bed. Her face went scarlet at this and she hurriedly shook her head clear of these thoughts. There was no use in dwelling on these things now, her immediate task was to perfect her part of the wedding dance else wise she would bring disgrace upon herself and the treaty would inevitably fail. The Asgardisn aspect of the ceremony, she could execute with ease and grace, but the Jotun dance would be her ruin. She released a shaky breath, looking about her as she brought herself out of her musings.
She stood in a corridor that was completely unfamiliar to her. It was lined with arching windows that overlooked the courtyard far below and the great bridge and the gorge beyond. She muttered a curse under her breath. It was just her luck to get lost in Utgard as she allowed herself to get lost in thought, now having absolutely no inkling of an idea where she was or how to return to her chambers.
Glancing about, she saw a door not far down the corridor from herself. Deciding she might as well try to find a servant to guide her through the twisting halls and passageways, she set determinedly towards it. Straightening her appearance—a princess must always look presentable, even when lost—she knocked resolutely on the door. "Enter," was the muffled reply from within.
Grasping the door's iron handle, Sigyn peered into the chamber that was behind the door to find herself in a library. It wasn't Utgard's main library—Mim had shown her that one and it was much more vast and gilded with finely polished wood workings than the one she found herself currently in—but it was impressive nonetheless. The library was illuminated by glowing blue orbs of magic that she only had ever seen described in one of Balder's monstrous tomes. She gasped at the sight as one floated down to her, bobbing merrily around her.
"Yes?" demanded a voice. Jumping slightly at the noise—she had forgotten that someone was in the library besides her, she was so mesmerized by the magic orb—she found the source of the voice. Sitting at a heavy wooden study table cluttered with scrolls, parchments, and thick volumes was a lean man with his back to her. His hair was black and slicked impeccably back while the fair skin of his back was lined with vivid blue paint of fresh Markings. She recognized him immediately and she suddenly found her voice stolen from her, her feet rooting herself to the spot.
At her silence, the man turned and easily locked his gaze onto her as she stood barely within in the doorway, the blue orb still bobbing about her. His emerald green eyes easily captured her inside their intense gaze. He raised a black brow at her, a questioning look coming across his perfectly structured face. He rose from his chair. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, though not unkindly.
This seemed to shake her from her trance as she ducked her head in embarrassment. She had vowed not to allow Loki or herself to look onto each other's face until after the wedding ceremony, but now she was not only without her veil but gazing upon him unabashed. She hurried to divert her eyes. "I lost my way. I was going to the raven coops but found myself somewhere I did not know."
"The ravens are on the other side of the palace," Loki replied, an amused smile curling onto his face. "I can send for a messenger if you'd like?"
"Um, yes, thank you," said Sigyn. Loki nodded mutely back before beckoning one of the magic orbs from the air to rest in the palm of his offered hand. He cast his over hand over it, his fingers patting the top of the blue magic before it seemed do a spin of excitement—it reminded Sigyn of how Thor's hunting hounds became when they were happy, chasing their tails—before turning a bright green and then zooming from the library, hitting the door and disappearing through it.
Sigyn watched this all in amazement, now completely forgetting her vows as she gazed at her betrothed in wide-eyed wonder. "Are you surprised I can perform magic?" Loki question and this time, Sigyn watched his amused smile curl up the corner of his mouth and she suddenly found herself annoyed. That was the exact smile Loptr—Loki—had worn and now the sight of her stirred questions and, above all, irritation.
"Why did you lie?" she found herself asking, acting as though she were talking with Balder with how freely she spoke. She wouldn't have been able to give an exact answer on why she suddenly found herself so furious. It most likely was that all her worries of the treaty, being a queen, a wife, and the wedding dancing as well as home sickness and pure fatigue finally had gotten to her. She was tired of having to act perfectly for the treaty, of being brave. She was tired of him not being straight with her. She just wanted honesty.
"About my magic?" Loki asked, though his expression remained amused.
"No, about who you were! Why did you say your name was Loptr and that you were a guard for the king?" she demanded, taking an agitated step or two towards him.
"Well, technically, Mim called me Loptr and a guard," replied Loki with a slight shrug.
"That's beside the point," Sigyn replied, crossing her arms huffily as she halted her march, now not two feet from Loki, fixing him with a demanding glare.
"I wanted to ensure that Mim did not make a mess of the peace treaty," he replied, his voice finally turning serious and meeting her agitated gaze with a scowl of his own.
"But why did you disguise yourself?" prodded Sigyn, not giving up so easily.
"Do you really think it wise for a Jotun king to travel to the borders of Asgard, the very country that has been attempting to invade for one hundred and fifty years?" demanded Loki, raising a brow.
"It's against Jotun tradition to travel to meet his bride, though," countered Sigyn, having learned this from Mim. "It would not matter if the border was hostile or not. Why?"
Loki sighed at her, running a hand thought his black hair. "I wished to meet my bride. I was breaking tradition—as I am now," Sigyn winced at that. Of course he was aware that they were breaking their vows and she knew it was her fault for intruding upon him and then managing to pick an argument while she was at it. "But I chose to nonetheless. Even a king wonders about his betrothed wife."
Sigyn opened her mouth to reply but suddenly found all her bravery from before evaporated, leaving her embarrassed at her actions and wishing to take back all of her words. She swallowed, noticing how close they had become in their argument. Loki seemed to notice this as well as he turned away from her to look back at his cluttered desk, clearing his throat he did. "Excuse me princess," he muttered, "That was inappropriate of me."
"No, it's my fault," Sigyn replied, shaking her head. "I spoke out of term because of all my growing frustrations." Loki nodded, though he did not turn to face her. There was a moment of silence before Sigyn finally asked, "What is this room?"
"It's my personal study" Loki replied, looking from the parchment atop his desk and around the library, the orbs seeming to grow stronger as his keen gaze fell upon them. "Each volume contains knowledge on magic in every form."
"Did you teach yourself from these books?" questioned Sigyn, wanting to at least talk with him to ease the embarrassment of their brief argument.
"Yes," nodded Loki, slowly turning to fix his green gaze upon her, searching her expression for her reaction.
"That's amazing," Sigyn replied, truthfully, though she refused to meet his gaze as she instead interested herself with watching the magical orb that still bobbed around her mass of red curls.
A slight grin appeared on Loki's face as he said, "Watch closely." He extended his palm towards the orb that followed her, Sigyn raising an eyebrow at this. The orb bounced over to Loki's palm. It paused mid-motion for a moment before it seemed to expand, turning from its vivid blue to a gray color that turned into orange. I took shape and then, after another moment, sitting in Loki's palm was a black, fluffy kitten that meowed up at Sigyn.
She jumped in surprise, Loki reaching his other hand out, wrapping it around her waist, steadying her. "Is it…is it real?" she questioned, after her initial shock, peering down to come to eye level with the cat, blue eyes meeting green ones.
"He's very real," Loki confirmed with a nod and a grin at Sigyn's wonder.
And then their relative silence was broken. Bells began to ring throughout the palace—the warning bells that announced an emergency—and then suddenly there were rapid footsteps coming from the hallway and, not a moment later, Mim, looking winded, burst into the library. He took in the sight of Loki, a cat in his hand and an arm wrapped around Sigyn, but did not comment on it was the two sprang apart.
"Loki," he managed to say around gulps for breath, he had just dashed across Utgard, "There's been a break-in. Assassins in the queens' chambers."
Not waiting for further explanation Loki hurriedly handed the kitten to Sigyn, saying, "Take care of him and stay here. Stay safe." Not wanting for her response, he held out his hand, Gungnir rushing across the room to where it had been resting against a bookshelf and into his awaiting palm. Then, without further ado, he was sprinting out of the library, Mim close on his heels. Sigyn watched with concern clearly written across her face, holding the kitten protectively against her. Assassins. Assassins for her.
A/N: The stakes are raised and so is the drama! Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoyed! Please leave a comment, question, or what-have-you!