Chapter Twelve
Chilled are whipped around the observatory until it finally stilled. Sigyn's heart pounded in her ears, and save for Heimdall's greeting, there was an uncomfortable silence that followed. Even those that brought her seemed to shift awkwardly, like they didn't know what to say to her. Freyr ultimately gave her a hug, saying something about needing to meet with the other warriors, before leaving followed by the small group of guards that came with him. Amora left to attend to some unknown business, though she promised to visit her later that evening. This left her alone with Volstagg, who was waiting for her at the end of the bridge.
"Lady Sigyn," he greeted with a gentle smile and short bow. "I'm pleased to see you look well."
Of the Warriors Three, Sigyn had always had a certain fondness for Volstagg. He had sturdy warmth that reminded her of her father, and she was glad that if anyone was going to escort her, it was him. There was no pity in his smile, no trace of smugness or patronization, just a genuine kindness that made this homecoming a little less unbearable. "Thank you, Volstagg. How's your family?"
There were no other guards in her escort as he led her towards the palace. In fact, no one paid them much attention. A few looks and the odd whisper here or there, but nothing more. "They're well. The children still ask about you from time to time."
"Really?"
"Indeed. They usually want to hear more stories about the times you and Loki came on our adventures, or they ask when you're coming back so you can show you one of your famous tricks. They'll be happy to see you."
That anyone in Asgard aside from Thor had missed her broke her heart a little more. "I'll be sure to pay them a visit soon, then."
Volstagg continued to fill her in with tales about what had happened during her absence, which as it turned out wasn't all that much. Asgard had been calm since the Dark Elf attack and Thor's departure. Quiet and still, it was as though nothing much had changed in her absence. She went to turn towards her rooms but Volstagg kept going.
"Your new rooms are this way, Lady Sigyn."
"New rooms?" Was she to be confined to the dungeons, then? Or had she been stripped of her titles and her accommodations downsized? "What happened to my old ones?"
"The All-Father thought you might like somewhere new. A fresh start."
Sigyn was expecting little more than a cell, small and clean but simply furnished, merely a place to sleep and nothing more. These, however, were larger and grander than her last ones had been, and located in the royal wing. The balcony overlooked the gardens and the rest of Asgard beyond.
"What have I done to deserve such a homecoming?"
"I cannot say what is in the All-Father's mind, but he did say that you were still of the royal family, and that this is where you belonged."
This all felt...strange. At her last encounter with the All-Father she was certain he would have thrown her in the dungeons had Thor not been there. Unless he had a sudden change of heart, which she didn't think the old man capable of, he should not be giving her new rooms and referring to her as family. "I shall have to thank the All-Father for his generosity. When do I meet with him?" She assumed she would be marched into the throne room and be given a stern warning about her place and second chances.
"He's quite busy at the moment and feels such introductions would be better suited for a later time. However, if there is anything you need, you need only ask." Too busy? He had her practically dragged out of Nidavellir and now he was too busy to even explain why?
Sigyn hid her frustration behind a smile, and Volstagg left her alone after that. With an abundance of free time for the time being, she made herself familiar with new chambers. All her previous belongings had been moved, arranged in a similar fashion to her old rooms, right down to her books being clustered by type and arranged alphabetically. Whoever had done this had a particular eye for detail and had gone to great pains for accuracy.
Sigyn removed each piece of armor and set it on a nearby table. There was no point in wearing it if her meeting with the All-Father was delayed indefinitely. That irked her; she had dressed for battle, the least he could do was meet her on the field.
Once in the clothes she'd brought with her from Nidavellir, Sigyn sat cross-legged on her bed. The familiarity was quickly losing its warmth. She may be in a different room, but the almost slavish devotion to detail reminded her of her grief, of the days and nights she spent weeping over him. But if the memory of her grief was painful, the memory of a time when he was alive was almost unbearable.
Perhaps this is the All-Father's punishment for me, she thought. He meant to taunt her with the life she might have had with Loki: the gorgeous rooms in the royal wing, every detail preserved so as to easily conjure ghosts. Her gilded cage was meant for slow torture, to inch her towards the edge of madness without ever pushing her off.
She would not give him that. She would not jump off that cliff.
The furniture was easy to move around for the most part. The bed would be the most difficult, even with the aid of magic, so she left it for last and focused on the tables, dressers, and shelves. Nothing would remain as it had been.
"I see the furniture doesn't meet your approval."
She'd been so focused on moving this particular dresser she didn't hear Theoric come in. "There is a belief among some of the Midgardians about energy and the placement of furniture in a room. Actually...I'm glad you're here. You can help me move the bed."
If Theoric thought her request strange, he said nothing of it. When every piece of furniture had a new place, Sigyn grinned at their handiwork. It was such a minor thing, but it was her first act of defiance. She may be back in Asgard, but she would not let it torture her, not here at least.
Still, for all the care and attention to detail that went into constructing this room, there were a few things missing. "When Thor brought word of Loki's death, he brought me Loki's cape and his helmet. I took the cape with me but left the other behind. Where is it?"
"I don't know. I could ask one of the servants who helped with the room if that will help."
"And my bowl?"
This time he could not look at her. "It's locked away in the Vault. For your safety."
She remembered the thing being useless, giving blank images and no answers. But dangerous? "My safety? It was a harmless tool, albeit probably a broken one for all the good it did me."
Theoric still wouldn't meet her gaze. "Sigyn, you had sliced your hands open a dozen times in one day trying to use it. I know you hoped it would show him to you again, you screamed that we were taking away your only hope of finding him, but you were not yourself."
"Of course I wasn't, I was newly widowed." Fragments were starting to settle into place. She remembered how she'd kicked and clawed at Theoric when he held her back, she remembered a guard picking up the bowl as if it was a dirty dish to be taken to the kitchens, not a powerful magical tool given to her by her husband, and she remembered the healer bandaging her hands while offering what kind words she could. She had come to terms with Loki's death, but some small part of her hoped that perhaps it would work like it had the last time. "Is there any way for me to get it back?"
"I can get you Loki's helmet, but not this. The All-Father has commanded it be locked away."
"Then it will be one more topic for me to bring up when I meet with him, whenever that may be." She sank back onto the bed and rubbed her temples. Her brief flash of anger gave way to exhaustion; she'd only been back in Asgard for an afternoon and she already felt drained.
The bed shifted as Theoric sat beside her. "Sigyn, I know this isn't how you wanted to return."
"I just don't understand why I'm needed here. Asgard seems fine; my presence isn't needed."
"Regardless, it is welcome."
Sigyn wondered if he still had feelings for her, if that was the reason for the warmth in his smile. She hoped it wasn't; there was too much going on for her to deal with that. Theoric was a good man, and she was nowhere near ready for a good man. Still, she gave a little smile and patted his arm. "Tell me about everything that happened while I was gone."
After Theoric had told her about the continuing efforts to rebuild Asgard, she insisted that he go spend time with his family, as this was his night off. As Sigyn sat alone in her new surroundings, a new restlessness set in. Even with the rearranged furniture, everything that reminded her of the past was almost suffocating. She grabbed a cloak and decided to wander for a while to clear her head.
Her wandering lead her to the Bifrost and then down towards the Observatory. Heimdall was turned away from her, looking out towards the stars.
"Do you tire of Asgard already?" he asked without needing to turn around.
"I doubt I would be allowed to leave even if I had." She answered, stepping closer until she was beside him almost at the edge. "No I just...needed some air."
"You have all of Asgard, and yet you come to the edge of the universe for air."
This was still the only place she could count as Loki's grave, as she had after the Bifrost had been destroyed. No body had been brought back, and there were no plans for a memorial of any kind. This was all she had left, a tomb at the edge of the universe illuminated by the candles of a thousand stars. "I miss him, Heimdall."
The gatekeeper said nothing in response which she was grateful for. No doubt in the coming weeks, months, and years she would hear endless variations of 'you'll find another husband, a better one who isn't a mad frost giant'. To not hear such things at his gravesite was a mercy. "Don't suppose you know why I'm back."
"You agreed to return. Whatever your reason for doing so, there is your answer."
She had something to prove, either to herself or to everyone else or both: that she was not frail, and that Loki's death had not destroyed her. In time, she might have returned on her own accord. But it didn't explain why Odin wanted her return. "Shall I take your cryptic answer as short hand for 'I don't know'?"
"The King has been quiet lately, reclusive. He's much changed since the Queen's death."
"As are we all." Heimdall's answer did not ease her growing discomfort. Sigyn gazed down into the abyss where Loki once fell and felt a fresh wave of loneliness. "Forgive me for disturbing you."
She turned and started back for Asgard. She's hoped to get some closure at this place but instead felt the ache in her chest grow sharper. "Lady Sigyn," he called just before she reached the observatory's entrance. "One does not need to be all seeing to know his death still grieves you. And I am sorry for your loss."
Sigyn spent the long walk back to Asgard nearly in tears, hastily wiping at them as they rolled down her cheek. Going to the Bifrost was a mistake; she'd spent enough time crying and this trip had opened wounds shed thought long since healed.
It was late in the evening when she reached the palace. A few people were still milling about in the hallways, mostly guards and servants but others as well. Her room was as she had left it, save for the golden horned helmet on her bed. Theoric must have gotten it for her, and she made a note to thank him later. It looked like it had been polished recently, all scuffs and dirt, evidence of battle, having been buffed away. She held it in her hands, tracing the curve of one of the horns with her fingertips. "Damn you for leaving me alone in this world," she whispered.
"Sigyn?" She turned to see Amora standing in her doorway. "Are you alright?"
"Do I look alright?"
"No. You look exhausted." Amora gave her back a gentle rub. "Which makes me feel worse about what I'm about to say. The All-Father wishes to speak with you."
Sigyn felt like a rock had been dropped in her stomach. "When?"
"In an hour, at the last bell before sundown. I'm to bring you to him."
When she first arrived, she was angry that their meeting had been delayed. Now she was emotionally and physically exhausted and vulnerable. "Then in an hour I will have answers." She may be dreading this encounter, but she had more than enough ire at being pulled back to Asgard to compensate. Rage will be my strength today.
One hour later, Sigyn stood before the doors to the throne room with Amora at her side. She wore one of her finer dresses the color of sage. The scrap of green fabric peaked out from under the glittering bracelet her father made, and Loki's cloak hung about her shoulders. It was a bold choice, and perhaps not a wise one, but she wanted him with her tonight.
"You will be fine, I'm sure of it," Amora said, glancing at where she was picking at the fabric under the bracelet.
"You seem to know the All-Father's mind. Tell me, then, what will happen when I go through those doors?"
"I do not know his mind, only the whispers of others."
"You're a terrible liar, Amora. You've been far too willing and eager to bring me here."
"This is not a betrayal, Sigyn. Have I ever led you into danger?"
"I seem to recall nearly losing a hand in that ruin on Alfheim..."
"That doesn't count; we had no idea how that artifact would react. My point is that I have never led you willingly into a trap." The last bell rang, echoing through the hall, and Sigyn's heart pounding right along with it. Amora gave her one final, quick hug and whispered "But I have led you to a few surprises." The doors creaked open was she was ushered through them, alone.
The room was nearly empty, save for a handful of guards and a lone figure sitting on the throne. The doors gave a final thud behind her as they closed; there was no going back now. Everything was silent, even the sound of her heels hitting the tiled floor was muffled. The All-Father remained seated as she approached, even as she bowed before the throne she could feel his eyes on her.
"Welcome home, Lady Sigyn."
Home. The word nearly made her shudder. "It's good to be home," she lied. He was looking at her strangely; the coldness she remembered in his eyes was gone, the anger with which he looked at her in their last encounter was replaced with warmth. It reminded her too much of how Loki used to look at her, and felt perversely wrong coming from him.
"Your presence has been missed."
"Evidently, given how quickly I was summoned."
"I apologize if you were treated roughly. I ordered that you were to be treated with the upmost care and respect." He smiled and rose from the throne. "Walk with me." Another command, yet it was gently given. "There is much to discuss, and it is better these matters to be discussed in private."
Sigyn had little choice, and did as she was told. The All-Father led her through the less traveled hallways of the royal wing. They were empty, not even guards populated the halls. But there was magic here, new magic that she did not remember being there. It made the hairs on her arms and back of her neck stand on end, and the air felt thick as though she were passing through a fog. The worst of it was right before the doors to the All-Father's private audience chambers. The air smelled metallic, and a heat radiated off the doors that reminded her of father's forge. Powerful warding spells designed not only to protect but to conceal. Sigyn's mind went to the worst places, followed the darkest paths. Was this to be a private execution? Or would he strip her magic from her, numb her powers and sever her last connection to Loki?
The doors opened, and passing through them felt like walking through a blast of heat that let her flush. Once inside though, the air felt normal, lighter, and until the doors closed behind them again she could breathe a little easier.
He approached her slowly, and with less confidence he'd possessed in the throne room. "May I?" he asked, gesturing to the bracelet on her wrist. She nearly said no, certain he would yank both it and the fabric off, but held her wrist out anyway. He examined the fabric first, running his thumb over it. "You still wear it?"
"Loki was my husband. I will always wear it."
"Until you find a new husband."
"There will be no new husband," she snapped. So that's why she was brought back. Her family and the All-Father must have worked together to find her a new, politically convenient husband. She yanked her hand away. "You said there was much to discuss."
"There is."
"Then with all due respect, I've had a long and emotional day. Just tell me why you summoned me." Everyone had refused to give her a straight answer whenever she asked, and she was done with it.
Odin lowered his head in what was a jarring act of respect and stepped back. He glimmered around the edges, a golden light flecked with green. It started at his hand when he placed Gungnir against the wall and ate away up his arm and chest, and finally up his face. "Because I need you here."
Loki.
Her stomach twisted into painful knots, and if Sigyn had eaten anything that day she might have thrown it up. Tempting her like this was cruel, even for him. "Was it your plan to torture me?" she asked through teeth clenched so hard she was certain they would break. Her fists clenched at her sides and her whole body trembled as she fought to remain still. "Because if you're going to kill me, just be quick about it. But don't taunt me with his image and call it kindness. Don't," she hissed, recoiling as he tried to touch her. Don't look at me like that, the way he used to. "This is a trick, a test of some kind."
"There are no tricks here, no illusions. Just me trying to convince my wife that she is no longer a widow. That she never was."
"No." She wanted to believe that Fate had been kind enough to return him to her a second time, but this still felt like false hope. One misstep and she would fall back into her all-consuming grief, and she'd come too far for that. "This has to be a trick."
"Let me try to convince you. Please." He held out his hand and something glittered and flashed a bit of gold in the dim light. It was the necklace she wore on Earth, the one Loki had meant to be her betrothal gift. She assumed it had been lost during her return. "Do you remember why I picked this for you?" he asked, his voice gentle and almost soothing. "The gem is from that cave on Vanaheim, the one we explored when we were younger and got lost looking for that stupid mushroom. The only reason we didn't get in trouble was because we agreed to blame the storm for our delay back to the palace."
They had told no one about that day; no doubt there would have been uproar if the youngest prince of Asgard and a daughter of Freya had been injured or worse while lost in a cave. Especially since the mushroom they were looking for was for a potion deemed too dangerous to make by their tutors. If Heimdall had known, he never said anything because they would have heard about it. "How do you know that?"
"Before you found the stream that led us back to the entrance, I saw this green stone sticking out of the cave wall, begging to be plucked like ripe fruit. I knew I wanted to marry you long before that day, but when I saw that stone it just seemed perfect." He gently touched her cheek and this time she didn't feel the urge to pull away in disgust. "So I chiseled some of it out of the rock and when we returned I had it set in that pendant." He clasped the chain around her neck, his touch lingering on her skin before softly touching her hair. "I had a whole speech planned that seems irrelevant in light of what we've gone through in the past few years. But I would have called that cave home as long as you were with me, and without you all of this has felt hollow."
Sigyn's heart raced and her head swam, and the ground felt like it would give out from under her. They had told no one of their incident in the cave, and he knew details no one else could. All the peculiar behavior, the gentleness with which he looked at her, the absolute insistence that she return, it all made sense now. Every fiber of her being, every nerve was practically screaming in recognition. He's alive…He's alive…He's alive. "Loki...?"
"Do you believe me now?"
She shoved him away, her fists balled and tears streaming down her face. "You've been alive all this time? Why didn't you tell me?"
"I tried to. Every night I went to you, but whatever the healers gave you dulled your senses. You thought I was a dream, some figment brought on by their medicine."
"Every night?" Hazy memories returned and cleared like the parting of early morning fog, memories of his arms around her, of his lips on her temple and his voice in her ear. She should be elated, but anger tainted her joy. She was angry at herself for being too drugged to notice and at him, and she was angry at him for letting it get that far. "There were other times. Why didn't you tell me before I thought I was losing my mind, before I was told I was a widow?"
"I wanted to, more than anything I wanted to, but there wasn't enough time. If I hadn't done what I had, I would have been brought back to that cell, and we'd still be apart. There was a limited window for us to have a better life."
A better life. Sigyn looked around at her lavish surroundings, and she felt uneasy. If Loki was impersonating the All-Father, that only left a handful of options, all of which were dangerous, all of which required a degree of believability on their part. Loki needed to stay dead, and a grief stricken widow would guarantee that. "And what did you do, Loki?"
"Later, I promise I'll tell you everything." His fingers brushed through her hair, and as much as she wanted to lean into his touch, her lingering anger kept her from doing so. "You're still angry."
"Of course I am! You let me think I was a widow so you could acquire...this?" She gestured around to the room, at his newfound position. "I thought you dead! Again!" She yelled, her voice breaking in a sob. "And the whole time, while I was grieving, while I couldn't tell if my 'dreams' were real or not, while I was chased from one realm and dragged out of another, you were here playing All-Father!"
"Would you rather have me back in that cell? To be separated for another couple centuries, waiting for another opportunity to present itself? It may not have been ideal, but you have to admit it's better than the alternatives."
"Not ideal? Is that what you call letting me mourn you for a second time?" She turned her back on him, and walked over to the window. The air was cool against her face and stopped her head from spinning. She was determined to stay angry with him, even if part of her could admit that there was a shred of truth to what he said.
His arms wrapped around her, yet he left her just enough room so as not to make her feel trapped. He rested the side of his head against hers, his lips just close enough to her ear to make her shiver. "Your anger is justified, but my goal was never to hurt you," he whispered. "And when you vanished, I admit I was frightened."
It was a rare thing for a son of Odin to admit when they were frightened. Both were prideful creatures, motivated by either a warrior's bravado or the illusion of control. It had been ages since Loki last admitted such a thing to her. "Why?" she pushed back. "You had everything you wanted. You had the throne, and thanks to my grieving and sudden departure you not only had extra proof you were dead, but also one less risk to your cover being exposed."
His fingers brushed gently along her palm and fingertips. There were no scars there, but she knew by the movement that he was mapping each cut she had made. "When I couldn't pull you out of that state I realized what I drove you to. Every sob, every scream, was my fault, and I didn't know how to help you. And then you disappeared. One night you were crying and distraught, unable to tell dreams from reality, and the next night you're gone. No note, no warning. I had no idea what state you were in when you left, what had happened to you, where you were, and every attempt I made to reach you was blocked by one of your cloaking spells." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "For all I knew, you could've been dead."
"Terrible feeling, isn't it?" Rubbing salt into that wound didn't make her feel better for long, in fact moments after it left her lips there was a slighter bitter taste on her tongue, but it needed to be said.
She expected him to twist her words and make it about him, about his concern for her safety and completely ignoring the part about him letting her think he was dead. What she got instead was a silence that stretched on for what felt like hours as she watched the sun dip below the horizon, before he whispered "I'm sorry, Sigyn, for everything I've put you through for the past few years."
"No you're not," she sighed and turned in his arms. "You're not sorry you attacked New York, and you're not sorry about this."
"No, not about what I did. I just regret thinking I didn't have enough time to tell you the truth and spare you any unnecessary suffering."
More tears streamed down her cheek, and Loki brushed them away. Sigyn wanted to stay angry with him, to hate him for this and what she'd gone through. She'd forgiven him easily after his first death. Falling from the Bifrost hadn't exactly leave him much of an opportunity to reach out to her, and she'd been so damned happy just to find out he was alive she didn't care. But this…he'd been right there, in the same realm, the same building as her. "Damn you…" she murmured, resting her forehead against his chest and banging her fist against his shoulder a few times before the tears came. Loki held her to him, gently stroking her hair as she cried into his tunic. "Damn you, damn you, damn you…"
"I didn't say life with me would be easy."
I make no promises that I will be a good husband. He had warned her, and between the imprisonment and now this he had lived up to that warning. But he was alive. That alone was enough to cool her anger. Only an hour ago, she would have given anything to have him back. She would have made any deal, trekked through any realm, or dragged him out of Hel herself if it would've returned him to her. "If I wanted easy I wouldn't have married you." He chuckled and she could feel the deep rumble of it in her bones. She curled her fingers tighter into the fabric, as though he would vanish again if she let go. "Our marriage had a rough start, didn't it?"
His fingers combed through her hair, easing all the tension from her body. "It had more than a few bumps. But things will be better."
"Will it?" She asked, looking up at him. "You're the 'All-Father' now. That's not exactly reassuring."
"Sigyn…"
"Seriously, what are we going to do? And how did you manage to even pull this off?"
"The last thing I want to do right now is talk about that." His thumb brushed down her cheek, along her jawline, and stopped just shy of her lips. "I have not seen or held you in nearly a year."
"Loki..." She tried to sound serious, but the feeling of him being this close to her, alive and in her arms, was doing a remarkably good job at pushing aside her concerns about their current situation to the back of her mind for the time being.
"Tomorrow we can discuss everything. But I owe you a great many things, starting with a proper wedding night." Every pent up emotion seemed to burst from her in one instant. She gripped the front of his tunic and crushed his lips to hers. He was alive and with her, and she did not want to let him out of her embrace lest he vanish again. His fingers pressed into her hips, and he held her against him with a fierce possessiveness equal to her own. When she pulled back with a growl in her throat, she dragged his lower lip between her teeth.
"I'm still angry with you," she breathed, grinning.
"Are you?" He breathed against her neck, and she had to suppress a shiver.
"Like you said, you have a lot to make up for."
He led her back towards the bed. "Then I guess I'll have to get started..."
Loki tucked a strand of Sigyn's hair behind her ear with a feather light touch. She fell asleep an hour ago, and he didn't have the heart to wake her. In the quiet of their chambers, the rhythm of her breathing matched the beating of his heart and he felt more at peace than he had for what felt like ages.
Sometime later, he felt her stir and rolled over to face him. He twined his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. There was a sleepy smile on her lips and she mumbled, "This is real, right?"
Guilt felt like Thor swinging Mjolnir at his chest. "This is real, Sigyn. I promise." He took her hand and kissed her palm. The glimmer from her bracelet caught his eye. In their haste to reacquaint themselves with each other, it had gone unnoticed, merely a piece of decorative jewelry. Up close, he noticed each little jewel and the intricacies of the knot work. His knowledge of Dwarven knot work was rusty, but he knew to whom the craftsmanship belonged. "Your father made this for you."
"He wanted me to have something that represented us, something worthy of my title as your widow."
"Funny that it took my death to get the old dwarf to like me."
"Oh, I'm sure he would have come around in another couple hundred years." Her teasing smile faded, and he knew she was remembering the memorial he must have given her. Loki took her hand and interlaced their fingers. "You will not do this to me again."
"I can't promise anything."
"I'm not asking to you promise me anything, Loki. I can play the widow, but I will not be made to believe I am one for a third time."
"Then you won't have to. Despite my reputation, I don't particularly enjoy lying to you."
She nudged him onto his back and leaned over him, her hair tumbling over one shoulder. "I'm going to hold you to that, husband."
He cradled the back of her head and drew her closer. "I don't doubt it," he whispered before kissing her again. No matter what their future held, he had her back and that was all that mattered.
Note: So...it's been a while since I updated this. This chapter went through many, many rewrites until I was pleased with it. Thank you all for being patient, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.
