XII
Loki fidgeted, his hands hidden by the folds of his jade cloak. He was standing near to the throne where Odin All-Father sat ready to receive Iwaldi and his daughter, the soon to be Queen of Asgard. Very near was Thor, the brother who had at last reconciled with him after heated discourse with his father and Loki, and the warriors Hogun, Sif, Fandral and Volstagg. They all stood as attendants to the king, their ceremonial armor polished to a high shine. Thor's gaze occasionally went to Jane, who stood as if she were counted among the royal court of Asgard. She smiled at him, bouncing from her toes to her heels, the hair that had been done up for her bouncing in ringlets. Darcy stood arm in arm with her, the constant nonsensical blabbering of anything and everything a small comfort.
Thor had spoken with Jane privately, and they had come to an understanding that Thor's role was changing. His titles as Prince of Asgard would not be taken away, nor would his duties to the realm be any less. However, because of his ties to Midgard, and his company with the great warriors who had thrown down Loki in his attempted sabotage of New York, Odin and Loki had agreed he would remain the royal ambassador to that realm, instead of being counted among the advisers Loki would have had.
The love between brothers had been strained quite terribly in the events since the time Thor would have been crowned king. But as they talked, the bond had revealed itself still there, and would be fostered, if from a further distance. Jane would also be honored by the Realm, and her work followed closely by the crown. If the university failed her in any way, if S.H.I.E.L.D. did not offer assistance either by funding or by moving her to another location, Asgard would provide for her and Darcy to live and work. Thor had also hinted the possibility of their own union being smiled upon at last, as Lord and Lady Ambassador of Midgard.
"Did she like it?" Loki leaned over and whispered to his brother as they waited the arrival of Sigyn's procession. Thor turned his head, having been distracted by Jane's pleasant and comforting smile.
"Hmm? Oh. I...I haven't shown her yet," he answered. "The time is not right."
Loki had tried to give Sigyn his late mother's rings, the most beautiful of which had been a royal engagement band, set with pearls and sapphires on a ring of silver. It was an attempt at prodding her into more formal jewelry, to adorn her most ostentatiously as his queen. Sigyn had flat out refused the ring, and it had hurt Loki that she would not bear an heirloom from his mother.
"Would you keep everything of hers to yourself, and not share it with your sibling? Is it not enough for you that I take her chambers and duties, her crown, her throne?" Sigyn had answered, to placate the wound of her refusal, cupping his cheek with her hand before kissing him. "My greatest prize I will proudly accept, her favorite son."
So grudgingly, Loki had done as she suggested and given the ring to Thor to be a gift to Jane when he proposed his intentions to her. That Thor had decided to wait was curious to the son of Jotuns.
"I thought you were eager to have her as wife," Loki frowned, his brow furrowing. "What makes you hesitate?"
"She is not ready, I think, for what may come. I am still an agent of my realm's will, and soon so shall she. And, as much as he may think I enjoy stealing the spotlight from him, my king's glory shall come first. I will not have betrothal feasts and well-wishes contend with the rise of Loki-King and his wedding." Thor smiled, but his eyes were still sad and hurt when he remembered the great welling of heartache within him when he thought Loki had died in his arms. He understood that it was his brother's way of ensuring he would not return to prison after a successful mission, but the lie still hurt deeply and trust would be slow to come, even if his loyalty was sworn.
Announcements resounded the arrival of Lord Iwaldi and his gift to the Throne of Asgard, and Loki turned from his brother to see his promised bride on her father's arm, her mother and sisters following behind. Loki's chest tightened and his eyes became wide, his mouth closing in shock and awe. There was a reason Lady Freyr was called the Goddess of Love, and the title had begun to pass to her offspring.
Her daughters were arrayed in golds and deep reds, following their mother's inclinations, all of them alluring and dressed to please and attract. But not Sigyn. Her gown shimmered a glorious incandescent hue, forever shifting from blue to green to sapphire to emerald, golden threads woven throughout her gown and trimmed the hems. Her shoulders were bare but only just, the gown formal and less revealing than those of her sisters. It did not cling tightly to her nor did it hide her curves from him. Hairpins glimmered in her hair, binding up her blonde-red curls like stars in a sea of gold. Her gaze was cast to the floor but he could tell she was pleased with his exuding fascination. Her smile was almost a smirk. She was his queen, his lover, his true confidant...his little peacock.
"Who approaches Odin-King, All-father and Sovereign of Asgard, Protector of the Nine Realms?" Thor's voice boomed throughout the Golden Hall, beginning the ceremony.
Iwaldi bowed, shifting his arm to take his daughter's hand so he may present her. The rest of the bridal train knelt, heads bowed low in obeisance. "I am Iwaldi, Lord of Vanaheim, and I bring my daughter Sigyn, born of Freyr as a promise between our Realms. Let her be given to Asgard in marriage, that our hope for strength and unity be fulfilled as Crown Princess."
Odin stood, motioning for her to approach him. Sigyn left her father's side, going alone to the foot of the stairs that lead the throne. Loki's heart fluttered, just as the pulse at her throat did. She was terrified and yet her serene posture as she knelt was commendable. He still wanted to go to her side, and his fingers twitched, wanting to snatch up her hands in his and steal her away from the hall.
"Do you Sigyn, Princess of Vanaheim come before me, and submit to the command of your liege-king?"
"I do," she answered, looking up at the throne with a determined set to her jaw. She could feel Loki's desire to go to her and she appreciated the emotional support very much. She still hated being such a center of attention sometimes, and public ceremonies were always going to plague her. She just hoped she wouldn't make a fool of herself by tripping, or stepping on her dress, or flubbing the vows somehow.
"Do you swear fealty to the King of Asgard?" Odin pronounced, his voice filling the hall, laced with oath magic.
"I swear."
"Do you swear to protect the Nine Realms?"
"I swear."
"Do you swear to abandon all selfish ambition for the good of the Realm?"
"I do swear," her voice was also laced with oath magic, binding her to her word. Odin motioned for her to rise, and she did so, smoothing the skirt of her dress. She breathed in through her nose and out through lightly parted lips. Odin-King spoke again.
"By my right as king, I pronounce you Sigyn of Asgard, Protector of the Nine Realms and Queen-Consort to my heir – Loki, the first of his name, and my chosen successor."
It was significant in this proclamation that Loki had not taken Odin's name. Odinson remained with Thor and with Loki's ascension so too would rise a new house to power that had never before been seen. No one in Asgard but Thor, Odin, Loki and his wife knew his true bloodline, save that it was not Odin and Frigga's. The making of his own house would be held against him, and would force him to create lasting alliances quickly. The court that looked on remained silent in its strained concern.
Loki lifted his head, casting his gaze over the court as he moved down a step, the sway of his cloak flourishing against his heels. He looked at Sigyn, longing and stage-fright to match hers sweeping over him. Her lips twitched to a hidden smile quickly, and it was gone again.
"Do you take this man?" Odin asked, continuing the ceremony.
Sigyn looked up at the All-father, binder of oaths and wielder of Gungnir, before looking at her promised husband. Silvertongue, Liesmith, Usurper, Warmonger. All his titles, things he could be, he would forever be called. But Sigyn had seen hope, and perhaps it was love and longing that clouded her vision of him. Master Strategist, The Unbroken, High-Thaumaturge. Peacekeeper, Lover. She wanted all of these things from him, for him. She had seen Humility, and wanted to witness his great strength. He was born for this, the regal son of kings.
"I take this man," she said, a great fire glittering in her eyes as Loki approached her and took her hand. Forever.
And ever. Loki answered back, brushing his thumb over her knuckles, his green eyes bright and full of pride for her. I never thought I'd go weak in the knees for a beautiful woman.
Sigyn turned her head slightly, and her eyes roamed over his body, drinking him in. His dress armor suited him so much better than the dark leathers he usually wore into battle, and the gold shone brightly when fitted to his noble stature. He had tied back his hair and forgone his helm, lest his brother tease him again and the entire realm remember his sins in war. He was so very handsome even with the blackened eye that was still healing. He sensed her gaze quite keenly and fairly preened that he was such an aphrodisiac despite the tell-tale sign that he'd been knocked about by Thor. Loki smirked, lightly squeezing her fingers together.
You can help me out of my armor later.
'Helping you out' would be an understatement.
Loki had to purse his lips to keep from giggling like a little boy. Norns, they were going to have so much fun together. Thor was approaching with the ceremonial cord of marital binding, standing as executor of Odin's will as he commanded the ceremony.
"Loki, Prince of Asgard. Do you swear to honor, and cherish this woman as a gift to your heart, until the end of your days?" Odin intoned
Loki looked Sigyn full in the eye, turning toward her with the lacing magic of oath-taking on his lips, his breath speaking the promise. "I swear it," he said softly.
"And do you, Sigyn of Vanaheim, swear to honor and cherish this man, as a gift to your heart, until the end of your days?"
Sigyn smiled, knowing she was momentously the first to catch up the unattainable lover, the first to be bound to him, the first to be promised to the man publicly. It was a twinge in her heart that made her soul waver when she remembered it was also forced upon him without choice on his part. Such was the price of misgivings. She sobered quickly.
"I swear it."
"Before the realms, you are bound together by oaths. Let none break asunder what has been secured this day." Odin spoke as Thor wound the ceremonial cord about their clasped hands, loosely knotting it before resting his hand on both of theirs, smiling upon his brother kindly. Odin pounded Gungnir to the floor, the sound reverberating throughout the hall as the ceremony closed.
"Let the feasts begin!"
The gala that afternoon was grand, and there was dancing and eating and much drinking. Darcy abstained this time, asking servants for water and other refreshments, knowing she wouldn't be forgetting that hangover anytime soon. She drank from a crystal goblet leaning against a column, a crumbling slice of cake in her hand that she shoved in her mouth in a most unladylike manner. She looked on, apart from the celebration. Jane and Thor were dancing the night away already, and Loki was making his rounds, greeting dignitaries. Sigyn sat at the bridal dais, surrounded by her sisters (holy crap, big family).
Darcy didn't know anybody who wasn't otherwise occupied, and she vaguely remembered acting like a complete idiot the last party she'd been to. She hadn't done anything monumental like be an astrophysicist, or princess, or ambassador. She had absolutely nothing in common with anybody here. Why had she been so passive-aggressive to get an invite?
"I take it you've learned your lesson?" a blond courtier smiled, nonchalantly leaning against the column next to her. "I suppose our ales are unkind to those of weaker constitution."
"Who you callin' weak, poncy?" Darcy snorted. It was the cute guy Sigyn told to get her the hell out of the party last time. He still smelled like a good walk out in the pouring rain. Darcy blushed and wished she'd made her maidservant leave her hair down so she could hide behind it.
"Oh that's not the name you gave me when first we met," the man chuckled, his dark eyes dancing with mirth. "Oh let's see, what was it..."
"Fancy Pants?" Darcy offered, distinctly remembering drunkenly flirting with the guy. If only she could remember his real name. "Flynn Rider? Robin Hood?"
"Robin Hood! That's the one!"
"Yeah," Darcy laughed, smiled and died a little on the inside, feeling the friend zone coming on. "Yeah..."
"Oh come, no harm done, a little drunken banter is welcomed, especially from such a pretty lady," he smiled charmingly and Darcy could feel her knees weakening just looking at it. She stood up a little straighter, gave her attention more fully.
"Pretty annoying, maybe."
"You're a funny one," he chuckled. "Are you enjoying the festivities this time, at least?"
"Oh yes! Good party," Darcy smiled, her eyes lighting up. "Not as crazy as I thought it'd be, though. The way Thor talked, I thought it'd be a little more...Tortuga."
"More...what?" His eyes that looked at her with such deep interest were now blank and confused. Darcy couldn't help but just take a moment to laugh and look into them. She'd always been a sucker for brown eyes.
"It's a movie reference from...nevermind," Darcy waved him off and hid behind her goblet again, her blush deepening. The man smiled a little more roguishly.
"You never told me your name," he said, leaning in a little closer. He already knew the answer – Princess Sigyn told him, when she pulled him aside to request he look after the mortal. But he wanted to hear it from her this time, and continue conversation.
"Darcy Lewis," she smiled, changing hands with her cup so she could stick one hand out for him to shake. He took it and gallantly bowed, kissing her hand instead.
"Fandral," he smirked. "Called the Dashing, the Scoundrel, sometimes Battle Fury when the fight is good."
"Ladies' man, huh?" Oh she knew all about this guy. Thor's stories were interesting, and he often talked about his friends that had visited in New Mexico.
Fandral's smile faltered. He'd been called out many times, but not so overtly by any woman he tried to woo. It threw him completely off his center. "Er...I mean..."
"Don't worry about it," Darcy smirked. Thor apparently hadn't embellished his stories too much and she figured she'd have some fun. "Like you said. No harm done."
"I've displeased my lady?" Fandral frowned, trying to extract his foot from his mouth. He thought he'd learn a little more of Midgard by warming up to a representative.
"No. But I'm the kind of girl guys like you tend to forget when someone more beautiful comes along," Darcy stated, pointedly noting one of Sigyn's sisters approaching. She looked self assured and used to getting her way, as her red curls bounced gaily about.
"Master Fandral!" she said, her smile charming and coy. "You've ignored the sisters of Vanaheim too long. I demand you pay recompense with a dance!"
"Lady Snotra," Fandral bowed, her foreign name rolling off his tongue with a lilt as he tried to use his rogue's charm to his favor yet again. The sisters of Sigyn had heard tale of the dashing companion to Thor and it seemed made it their life's work to corner him, each of them having designs of their own for him. Fandral had been warned about the daughters of Lady Freyr and what sort of magic they employed when sending men to their demise by way of the heart.
"Forgive me, but I've been attending Lady Darcy here at the behest of our new queen," he made excuse to politely refuse. "Midgardians have not been at court in the Nine Realms and feel left out, you see."
"I see," Snotra smiled falsely, looking down her nose at Darcy. "I also hear their absence in court has left them to undignified manners. Perhaps it is best we leave them to their uncouth ignorance."
Great, thought Darcy. I'm going to ruin everything for Jane, and alienate myself from Fanny here because I can't handle booze.
"Come, Fandral, your presence is requested in finer company," the young princess continued, taking Fandral by the arm and attempting to lead him away.
"Rude," Darcy frowned. "Okay. One, first visit. Two, nobody warned me about the wine. Three, I was having an AB conversation, C you later."
"How dare you speak to me so, I am a princess!"
"Listen Snotty-"
"Snotra," another sister approached. She seemed older and more mature than the first, taking command of the situation. "You know better than to coerce a partner against his will."
"I was merely asking him to dance, Lofn!" Snotra insisted, clearly resorting to pouts in the presence of her sister. "And this woman dares insult me!"
"This lady is a friend to our sister, and father has forbidden us from practicing our arts tonight," Lofn replied, before dropping her volume to whisper to Snotra. "And mother is watchful. She wishes your company."
"But-"
"Now, Snotra."
The youngest of Freyr's daughters acquiesced, but stomped away in a huff, leaving Fandral still tensed and Darcy's eyebrows raised. Lofn curtsied.
"Forgive my sister, my lord and lady," she apologized. "She is young and impetuous."
Fandral chuckled nervously, and Darcy shrugged speaking for them both. "No problem."
"My errand was two-fold, I am afraid. My lady sister has requested you both attend her."
Fandral had taken Darcy's hand quickly and swept her toward the dais, presenting her as Lady Darcy Lewis with a bow. Sigyn offered her a seat, and her escort stood nearby, attentive and gentlemanly.
"I'd ask if you like the wine, but I see you've decided to play safe," Sigyn began, noticing the water still in Darcy's goblet. "Have you eaten enough? I have less control over the food tonight, I'm afraid."
"No no, everything's great! Best time of my life!" Darcy smiled, genuinely enjoying herself. Fandral's attention was suddenly torn away when he realized Sif, Thor and Hogun were having a terrible time convincing Volstagg to not eat an entire leg of lamb all at once.
"Forgive me, my ladies," he said hurriedly. "Volstagg...remember the last time you tried it!"
Sigyn laughed before turning to her attention back to Darcy. "I hope that you and Jane can feel at home, and welcomed here. Loki said you tugged at his coattails to come along, and I wondered if you would feel included."
"Sometimes it's good to just stand back and take everything in," Darcy smiled. "After Jane told me about her last visit, my imagination just went into overdrive. I loved mythology in college...I guess I bugged the shit out of him to get here, really."
"You say you annoyed him," Sigyn smiled. "But he likes you."
"Uh-oh!" Darcy laughed, feigning alarm. Sigyn took it as such and patted her hand comfortingly.
"You interest him. He likes tricks and mischief and games, and you do too. You may not have his skill, but it is good that you know them for what they are. Getting out of a mess would be difficult for you considering your bold nature, but knowing what is happening will help you."
"Nice to know I got in good, I guess," Darcy sighed, her lips twitching into a smile. "At least I know where I stand."
"You stand as favorite of a king and queen, you and Jane," Sigyn answered. "And that is a coveted position."
"Getting a little too Game of Thrones-y up in here. I'm just an intern."
Sigyn smiled, and looked out on the feast as if she were already on her throne. Jane and Darcy could be valuable allies, and friendship was a powerful bond when creating those. Mere common interests would not be enough for Sigyn and Loki to rule Asgard and be in alignment with other Realms. Slyly, she saw that she wasn't the only one interested in making friends with the Midgardians.
"Do not forget us when you go back home, Darcy. You would hurt too much pride."
Darcy didn't meet Sigyn's gaze as she took another drink from her goblet. Her eyes nervously shifted about and they passed over Hogun and Sif, who were drinking with Fandral as he lead them in a bawdy song. His voice faltered only slightly and he looked away from the most interesting intern on Earth.
The ride across the plains of Ida to Loki's solitary palace was quiet and the starlight glimmered above peacefully. The feasting had stretched into the evening and gone late into the night and the newlywed lovers had finally been able to slip away at last, after midnight.
Loki's mansion had been described as a palace, a fortress in the side of a mountain near the sea to the south. What Sigyn saw was a beautifully constructed manor chiseled from the land itself, as if it had been pulled from the heart of the mountain. It was lit by torches and candles, and when Sigyn entered she saw no servant about save for the groomsmen leading their horses away to be stabled.
It was a sparsely decorated home, and yet Loki had arranged for flowers to be placed all about, in an effort to please her. She looked about the place, guessing it had been a hunting lodge for him when he'd actually made the trips with Thor, a very long time ago. It had become a retreat for him, a place where he could think and be alone. Candles lit by spells glittered everywhere, casting a soft glow while still permitting brightness to see by.
"I've arranged for some of your things to be delivered earlier," Loki said quietly, closing the front door. "A room upstairs should be prepared for you, with a tray of fruit if you like. I'll...wait for you in the master bedroom."
A smile pulled at her lips as Sigyn felt his shy prodding. Was Sigyn-Queen pleased, he wondered? His curiosity crackled at her like electricity, and he impatiently waited to hear whether or not he'd done well. She turned and looked back at him, smiling fondly. "Thank you, Loki. I won't be long."
Loki's attention to detail was astounding. Her newer garments that she'd ordered from the tailor were all within the walk-in closet, as well as a few familiar things of her own that she might like to have about her. The drawers of the vanity near the window were all full of her cosmetics, lotions and perfumes. Everything she could possibly want, including her bedroom slippers were there. Sigyn felt spoiled as she shed her raiment and found the sheer gown she'd picked for her wedding night.
It was a simple white wrap that wound behind her neck, over her bosom and tied at her waist to leave her shoulders and back bare, the skirt going all the way to her feet. Sigyn hadn't known what to expect from her wedding night and decided it would be best to find something simple and easy to remove. It wouldn't do to spend time and money on gowns that Loki was sure to tear off her body in his lust. She removed her hairpins and let her hair cascade down her back, remembering that he seemed to like it best when her hair was loose.
On a side table was a tray with two goblets and a letter nearby a bowl of fruit. Sigyn went to it and opened the letter that bore the royal seal. Within was congratulatory wishes from Odin, as well as a suggestion she drink the wine in one goblet. The burden of ruling Asgard was plagued with curses, one of which was the responsibility of bearing heirs to continue the line. Sigyn sniffed the wine and realized it was a strong contraceptive, the pungent spell making her wrinkle her nose. She continued reading the letter, realizing that Odin had ordered the healers to mix a potion that would last long enough for her to enjoy the beginning of her marriage without having to return to the palace and immediately become a mother.
While it most likely wouldn't have been so bad, the thought of going from princess to queen-consort to queen-mother within possibly a year terrified her. She'd barely felt ready to be married, much less queen of a realm. Holding her breath she quickly drained the goblet, swallowing as fast as she could before she chased it with the water in the next goblet. The bitterness of the drug was horrendous and the water cleansed her mouth easily. Sigyn shook the goblet to refill it with a spell and drank again to rinse the taste out of her mouth before taking a deep breath and going over to the double doors that assuredly connected her chambers to the master bedroom.
Her hair curtained around her face and she already felt hot. With a flick of her wrist she cast a spell on her hair to braid itself away from her face. It would remain loose and yet unless Loki unwound it with a counter-spell, it would not come out. Placing her hands lightly on the doorhandles, Sigyn took another deep breath to compose herself, closing her eyes and opening the doors wide.
Loki was at the balcony, leaning against a column fashioned from the stone of the mountain. He'd already shed his armor, placed it on a mannequin that stood in the corner of his great room. He stood barefoot in his breeches and high collared tunic, a goblet in his hand that he put down when he heard her approach. When he turned to face her he stopped, his long loose hair softly ruffled by the sea air.
There stood Sigyn, goddess of her word, lady of loyalty and princess of Vanaheim. The moonlight made her glow, the sheer weave of her gown allowing the slightest hint of her silhouette to show. And she was offering himself to him, completely, wholly. Forever. Something within him pulled, clawing for release, and he went to her, cupping her cheeks in his hands and kissing her deeply. Whispers of reverence spilled over as from a cup in Loki's spirit, soaking through to hers. It grew as a tidal wave, as they pushed and pulled against each other.
Deftly, Sigyn unbuttoned the rest of his tunic and with soft touches, she slid the fabric from his shoulders, baring his skin to her. When he pulled away from her she immediately set her lips to his chest.
What have you done to me, that I need you so?
Her voice within his mind was feverish, desperate and intense. It was that of a woman ready for her husband.
I would ask the same of you. What dark spell has made me long for even the scent of your magic, or the aroma of your soul?
Loki found the tie at her waist and tugged it loose, unwinding the white dress she wore as if he were unwrapping a nameday gift until she was naked before him, the fabric pooling at her feet. His hands caressed her softly as he looked into her eyes. They were set aflame with desire and she reached for him again, putting her arms about his shoulders and setting her lips to his.
Loki picked her up and slowly backed his way to the foot of the great bed, straddling her atop him as he sat. Their kiss grew deeper, fervent and needy of each other when he suddenly felt her use a spell to lightly chill his tongue that she might suckle it longer. He took her by the wrist, opening his eyes and pulling away.
"Sigyn," he breathed, breaking the moment of passion and her concentration. The spell dissipated, his breath cold and leaving his mouth with a frigid puff. She opened her eyes and frowned, sensing his displeasure.
"My love?" she asked, suddenly afraid she'd somehow disappointed him. He eased Sigyn's fear by caressing her face, his eyes focusing on her swelling lips.
"I wish for yet another promise between us," Loki murmured, wondering why he was suddenly moved to do this as he stroked her hip gently.
"What does my husband desire of me," she asked simply, brushing his hair from his face, adoration spinning about in the blue depths of her eyes.
"I want no magic in our bed, or when you and I make love."
Sigyn blinked, absolute shock rippling throughout her soul. Confusion crested soon after, and then curiosity. "What is this about, Loki?"
"Spells for the purpose of intimacy are all well and good, but I...I'd like to know that I may please my wife by my own competence. I would rather you know satisfaction by me, rather than any lazy spell I could conjure."
He wasn't looking her in the eye as he spoke, and Sigyn rightly guessed that he was afraid. Afraid that he'd gotten apathetic. Loki was a man who had taken many lovers, and had most likely done everything, including using magic to achieve gratification. Whether to sate his ever climbing lust and depravity or because he'd gotten bored with his past companions, she couldn't decipher. If he was making a rule for them to adhere to where other women were given no consideration, no line to cross, it was significant. The request was not lost on Sigyn. She didn't need to ask why, to be left speechless.
"I'll agree to it," she answered at last, running a finger over his lips. "If you will."
Haunting green eyes peered up at her, dark with sensuality and yet unsure. "I swear to you, Sigyn, you will know fulfillment from me, truly. It will never come from spellwork."
"And I promise you Loki, I will repay you with contentment from my own body. I will abstain from magic in the bedroom."
She sealed her promise with another kiss, using her weight to push him back on the bed. Loki let her, his hands too busy playing with her hair to stop her from undoing his breeches and removing the rest of his clothes. Her hands stroked his skin, moving from his shoulders to his stomach, and on and on and-
Loki was ashamed to say he actually whimpered. For all the times he teased Sigyn for being impatient and needy, he'd tormented himself at night when he thought of all the ways he would have her. She was dominant in their first encounter, and he let her have control so she could become familiar with him when she truly lost her virginity.
Release came slowly, as she learned the rhythm of love. Loki forced himself to patience, so that she would know pleasure and adjust to him. Truly when he'd teased her so many months ago and broke her barrier with his fingers, he'd made no lie about his size. He came more than once from watching her journey to climax atop him. Her fingers weren't idle, and he discovered he'd have fun showing her how to pleasure herself and enjoy her own body. The sight of her hands roaming her figure, caressing her own skin was supremely arousing as he moved within her. Every moan, every time she opened her mouth when his hips rotated and he struck deep, every emotion he could feel running through her mind was stimulating. Vaguely, he made a mental note to one day fool around in front of a mirror so she could see what made him so easily thrilled.
They made love many times that night, each taking turns when leading the other until finally sweat and exertion forced them to sleep. The stars gave way to dawn and the lovers slept late into the day before waking and continuing intimacy. For three days they did nothing but eat, sleep and partake of each other before she finally cried enough from soreness.
After a week, wedding gifts began to arrive from Asgard, sent by other realms and dignitaries who wished the newlyweds well. Sigyn awoke from a nap, stretching like a cat before rolling over and snatching up a robe. Servants were hauling in trunks and parcels and all sorts of packages, depositing them in the sitting room downstairs.
Sigyn tied the robe loosely and all but raced down the stone stairs barefoot, using the bannister to turn the corner and go to Loki who was reading letters that were apparently attached to gifts, making a pile so he could send out proper thank yous and know what was from whom. He was standing in rumpled tunic and trousers, munching on a tea cake when she snatched it out of his hand and finished it off, earning her a smack on her backside as she went to inspect an opened trunk. She only turned and stuck out her tongue.
"Don't tempt me," he snorted, setting aside the letter to pick up another. Sigyn pulled a beautiful gold silk out of the trunk and kept pulling. And pulling, and pulling until she'd gotten an armful of the fabric. Loki rolled his eyes playfully.
"You would take it for yourself," he smiled, teasing her. "Better make it into a dress of state, and wear it to court. Alfheim will want to see their gift, to know they pleased you."
"Actually," Sigyn smiled after some thought. "I was thinking of having it made into sashes, for the girls."
"Your handmaidens, whatever for?"
Sigyn rubbed the fabric between her fingers. "To give them some mark of their station, and honor them for their service to me."
Loki looked up and saw she was remembering her own service to the queen. "You want them to be seen, you mean."
Years of being the dutiful servant, of being ignored unless the bearer of royal commands had held Sigyn within herself. She'd been a princess of Vanaheim, eldest heiress to a house honored by Asgardian royalty. Her lineage had not been spoken of, when she had been appointed handmaiden to the Queen. She was meant to learn magic at the knee of Frigga, and also to learn manners and duties of her station, along with the culture and customs of Asgard. When she had shown limited skill and aptitude with spells, she had been given the choice to either return home, or seek learning elsewhere. Going home would have meant shame, as no Vanir woman did not grow to be volva – one who cast spells with great art, and be hailed as a skilled sorceress.
"I would not have them ignored. They will wear cloth to represent they are my servants," she answered at last, stuffing the material back into its box before smirking at her husband. "And surely there is enough there to make a gown of, as well. Maybe one that wraps tightly about my body, as seems to be your favorite."
"And one I would dearly love to remove," Loki grinned wickedly, reaching for her and kissing her. She winced when he held her close, and he pulled away, an apology on his lips for being so fervent.
"Shh. I've ridden you just as hard, as if you were a wild stallion," Sigyn silenced him with her fingers tracing his lips. "I just need rest."
"Then rest while you can, my queen," he smiled, kissing her forehead before going back to the letter and opening up the ornate box that went with it. The woodwork was of Dwarven make, and yet it was so delicately patterned. He frowned when he saw what was within, a sneer of revile on his face.
Sigyn looked up from the package she'd been prodding when she heard his growl of dissatisfaction. "What's wrong?"
"The Dwarves are skilled weaponsmiths, and yet my gift from them is nothing more than a broken hilt! I know they dislike me, but even this is a slight I will not ignore!" he was already ranting. Sigyn came closer as he slammed the lid and tossed away the letter in rancor. She caught it up and skimmed it, opening the box again.
"Loki," she breathed, stunned when looked upon the gift. It was beautiful, the like of which had never been known or described, save for stories of the legends of Nidavillir. "Do you know what this is?"
"It's an insult, and a waste of precious stones," he answered, irritated and already formulating a retaliation as he poured himself a glass of wine.
Sigyn considered the gift - a rod, small and inlaid with scroll work and gems. Diamonds and emeralds glittered within the metal that was polished a beautiful sheen, its ebony blush crying out for her to touch it. So she did.
When Sigyn lifted it out of the wooden casing she raised her hand and flicked her wrist only slightly to test the wait of the rod. The metal responded to her hand and from the hilt emerged a spell-whip comprised of pure magical force that struck out and knocked over a pile of parcels behind her. The spell was too easily conjured to be of Sigyn's will and it caught her off guard. She looked at Loki in alarm before she disengaged the energy and the hilt was in her hand as a simple blunt object once more. Then an idea struck her. If the Dwarves of Nidavillir had sent the gift, and it really did call to her magic...she switched the hilt to her other hand and pulled at the air as if drawing the string of a bow to test its weight.
Loki had been watching in some surprise. The Dwarves were greedy in their search for fine jewels and rich metals, and kept much of what they valued to themselves. Their letter had spoken of wisdom in the wielding of magic, and of a metal that could be used to store power, and be a source or wellspring. He thought the unfinished hilt was a sign that they thought him incapable of the means to defend or attack, that they had slyly insulted his strength as a man, and meant to call him argr. He watched as the supposed hilt became a whip of energy, and then the grip of a bow in Sigyn's hand, the rest of the weapon forming when she called its shape into being.
"Do you know what this is made of?" she asked, lowering the conjured bow and handing him the rod. It was a good grip for a sword, and could apparently take many shapes. Loki took the weapon in hand and flexed his hold around it, conjuring the shape of a jagged one-sided blade, taking up a battle stance and moving through a few paces.
"Uru," Loki said finally. "The Dwarves keep it all to themselves, or so I thought."
"And you thought it an insult!" Sigyn all but cried out in frustration. "Loki at last you are being recognized for your skill. Uru is meant for magic, and only the Dwarves can forge it under extreme temperatures. The fire of a star heart must be used, and even then the smiths must be quick for the fire is hottest when the star is dying. They honor you as a master in magic, and give you a weapon that would heartily suit you."
"I would already have Gungnir," Loki said after a pause. He ran his fingers over the jewels that were already clouding with the energy of magic they'd used to conjure and then dissipate the weapon's forms. So, it had the ability to store magic as well as be a tool through which to harness and direct the energy. He pursed his lips in thought and Sigyn frowned, sensing him distancing from the gift and fearing he'd send it back and cause a rift against their ally.
"Take it, Loki," she hissed. "Do not deny yourself another weapon in your arsenal."
"Gungnir is also made of uru, Sigyn," he answered. "It is well there are two such weapons in Asgard now, that might may be shared. You take it. Once you learn to use its various forms, you will be formidable. I'd have peace of mind knowing you are not physically defenseless."
He held the rod out to her, and she hesitated to take it, wondering whether it was premonition within him that spoke, or if he had darker designs for the realms that he wanted to protect her from. She looked up at him to search his eyes. They were clear, bright and steady, and she couldn't tell which manifestation apart from Power was within.
"Take it," Loki offered again, his lips drawing thin. "You were the one to know it for what it was. I have no right to have something I would have easily thrown away."
Sigyn finally took the weapon in her hand, pursing her lips as she looked upon it. "Am I to be a queen of war?"
"War may come whether we look for it or not."
His tone gave her pause, and the storm of his soul was wary. Her brows knit together as she looked on him, expecting an answer.
"A king must always be ready for it, must he not?" Loki raised his eyebrow, hoping that would be enough for her. His eyes lingered over her as she seemed to accept his reasoning, considering the rod in her hand. "All royal weaponry must bear a name. Call it...Sigeirfeng."
Sigyn raised her eyebrow, tilting her head and peering at him with shrewd eyes. "The Bite of Victory?" she asked, translating the name he would give a weapon of many forms.
He came closer, drawing his arm about her waist and holding her close, gently pressing his body on her. His eyes were alight with desire and admiration and pride. "Is that not what you are," he murmured. "My 'Victorious One'?"
"Do you think to win wars because I merely bear my name?"
"No," Loki smirked his hands roaming her body. "I will win wars because my queen loves me. What enemy can stand before a man so greatly bolstered?"
His breath was hot on her lips as he covered them with his own, and Sigyn was lost to him immediately. When had she become so easily swayed? Perhaps the Soul-oath had made her yearn for him deeply - or was he furthering the thrall that held her to him? Sigeirfeng clattered to the floor and Loki swept her up in his arms and took her upstairs, and they made love yet again. At least Loki was gentler, that time.
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