COME WHATEVER MAY
Thor and Sigyn ride up front, followed by Loki, with Hogun, Fandral, and Volstagg at either side to assure the Trickster isn't up to his old tricks. Sif rides a short distance behind the group, watching for anyone who might either be keen enough or stupid enough to follow. Keeping an eye on the group to keep everyone safe. Though if something terrible were to happen to Loki, she supposes that wouldn't be too bad. Tis not like she'd lose sleep over it.
They'd been riding for hours now, nearly a whole day, and with no end in sight. Through the great woods along the Nidavellir border, chasing sunlight as Loki promised there'd be a portal between worlds up ahead. Every hour or so, assuring tis just a little bit further. Just a little further... While, to Sif, it feels as if every hour they be riding closer and closer toward their doom.
And between those hours, Loki casts his wanting eyes not on the picturesque scenery or even the path up ahead, but on Sigyn. As he only has eyes for her.
From her vantage, Sif can see it so well. The way he looks at her. Especially when he thinks no one is watching. Tis a look that can't be faked or fooled. There's no trick or deception to it, at all. No lies. The way that Loki looks at Sigyn is as if nothing else matters. Like she is his world. Because she most verily is. And despite whatever ill feelings she has towards Loki, Sif can't help but feel the slightest pricklings of envy in that. How she'd long for someone, anyone, to look at her the same as he looks at Sigyn.
Even as a boy, he had looked at her the same. Like he'd be ever lost without her. Though Sif could hardly say she knew Sigyn well at all, all those years back when. She hardly even knew her name. They'd run in different circles. What with Sif always off in the fields sparring with Thor and Sigyn hanging about with younger brother, Loki. She'd always spy the two of them as she'd head off bright and early to train. Lying in the tall summer grass beneath a shady tree, reading and the like. Even then, it was so plain to see. The way he'd idolized her. Cherished her. He loves her, as strange as that may be. Sif had thought the Laufeyson incapable of such a thing.
But even still, that doesn't fix what he had done. That doesn't right his wrongs and change the fact that he's... well... Loki. That impudent child who'd thought it a laugh to cut off all of Sif's hair as she lay sleeping. Who'd sent the Destroyer after Thor. Who'd thought to enslave Midgard. Who is solely to blame for this little excursion. Who tricks and deceives and lies and can and will do so again. Who is bound to kill them all. While laughing.
And yet... That look.
"Alright. I think it best we stop here for a bit. Let the horses rest." Thor bellows as the group comes upon a fine looking brook.
The Prince dismounts his steed. Bringing his horse to water, he ties the reigns around a good, thick branch. Letting his beast have a drink as he, too, bends to partake. Cupping his hands into the crystal clear waters before bringing them to his lips.
"Tis... warm." He complains, spitting the water back.
"Aye. You get used to it." Sigyn offers as she climbs down off her horse. "The ground beneath our feet burns hot with molten rock. Tis why Nidavellir is so well known for its forges. The core is like one big furnace. Perfect for smithing, but not so great for a refreshing dip."
"I beg to differ, m'lady." Volstagg groans as he slides from his mare, nearly falling in the process. "A nice, relaxing dip in the hot springs would do wonders for my aching bones." Popping his back, he adds. "Man wasn't meant to ride..."
"Nor was he ever meant to weigh as much as thee." Fandral smirks, tying his horse beside Thor's.
"How would you like it if I sat on you, then. Yeah?" Volstagg grins in return. "Show you the true merit of my mighty weight!"
As the pair of Warriors squabble, Hogun approaches Thor.
"We're losing daylight." He reminds. "We should seek out shelter before it gets dark."
Standing, Thor nods. He looks to Sigyn for her expertise of the terrain.
"Best we camp here in the forest for the night." She offers. "The closer we approach the mountain's base, the likelier for Trolls to spot our fire."
"Trolls?"
Loki's heart seizes in his chest. His veins freeze cold with ice. Tis that sinking feeling he gets at the sound of those horrid creatures by name. Those same horrid creatures which he mayyyyy have slighted just ever so slightly.
"Afraid of Trolls, are we?" Sif teases.
Turning his nose up, the Trickster snorts.
Surely such lowly creatures have no means of communication between tribes. That the Trolls here in Nidavellir know not of the crimes he had committed in the high mountains of Asgard. That Loki had deceived their King and laid waste to their best and most fearsome warriors. Well, fine... To be fair, twas not Loki who'd killed off their men, exactly. It was the Valkyrie, Freya. But they don't know that. Nor would they care to split hairs when they could verily split his skull instead.
Loki can feel Sigyn's eyes upon him. Judging him. Putting pieces into place, mayhap. For the love of all that is Loki, he certainly hopes not.
For all the girl knows, her mother died protecting Loki as her beloved Theoric from such creatures. That it be Trolls that took her life and not him. After all the pain of these past few days, he couldn't possibly live with her hating him any more than she already does now.
Sigyn opens her mouth to speak, and Loki half-expects her to ask THE question. To ask of him how, again, her mother died. To have him explain to her that day in the throne room. That day when the false Odin sat upon the throne and her Theoric stood before her, injured and broken from war. When her heart fell to pieces and she broke down in tears.
It feels like ancient history now. A past indiscretion he would have sooner left forgotten. But that's the problem with the past, isn't it? It never likes to stay where it belongs. Always finding new ways to sneak up on thee and bite you in the ass.
But much to his relief, Sigyn doesn't bring up her mother. Or Trolls. Or Theoric. Or anything else of great question. Instead, she returns the hood to her riding coat back atop her head, concealing herself as she sets out to leave.
"I think I'll scout ahead." She says. "Mayhap bring back something for supper."
Sitting on the shoreline with his feet soaking in the warm water, Volstagg pops his head up with a bright excitement.
"Did someone mention food?"
"Is that all you think of?" Sif complains
"Hey! Don't blame me." Volstagg whines in return. "Tis the ride that's left me famished!"
"I don't see how, given that you've managed to devour all our provisions in but a single day!"
"To keep up strength, of course! Can you not see how I'm wasting away?"
Before Loki even has a chance to offer, Fandral steps forward.
"Might you seek some assistance, m'lady?" He inquires. "Mayhap some strapping male companionship? The woods can be a scary place. I wouldn't want you to get lonely."
"And I wouldn't want you to chip a nail." Sigyn counters. "Besides, your strapping male talents are best spent here, preparing the fire for my return."
She turns to Thor before setting out.
"I'll be back within the hour."
As Sigyn leaves, Hogun sets about the task of collecting kindling for a fire.
"You're wading deep in icy waters, my friend." He directs his attention towards Fandral.
Taking a seat on a fallen tree trunk, the Dashing pulls out his flask.
"I rather like it when they play hard to get." He says before taking a sip. "The greater the challenge, the more sweet the reward."
Looking over at a forlorn Loki, Hogun shakes his head.
"That's not what I meant."
Their words turn to background noise as Loki stands, watching as she becomes one with the forest. Until she completely disappears from sight and there's nothing left for him to see.
Thor comes over and rests a brotherly hand upon his shoulder.
"Let us begin on that fire."
Once far away from the camp, Sigyn can breathe freer. She lets down her hood and inhales the fragrant earthy scent of the forest. Of green leaves and moss, and warm, rich pine wood. Tis the scent of nature. Of life. And everything that's good.
Out here she can think clearer. She can rid her mind of him. Not Fandral. Guys like him she can handle. As are they easily dealt with. But Loki?
The entirety of the ride, she'd felt him staring. Even now, surrounded by nothing but trees and lifeless rock, she can feel him watching with those eyes... Those eyes that looked at her so kindly as he held her hand in his. Just as Theoric used to, back when they were one. Back when there was still love inside her heart instead of this bitter emptiness she feels inside.
Or so she keeps telling herself. That she is empty. That she feels nothing. That she is devoid of emotion. Devoid of everything but hate. Perfect. Just as mother made her. And yet... And yet even she can't deny that spark when he had touched her. That longing in her blood to feel his cold embrace. To have his arms wrapped tight around her. His flesh upon her flesh. His lips, like ice, covering every inch of her body. How her knees do quiver at the thought of his liar's tongue, a cool relief to the growing fire within. That warmth that burns with yearning, deep between her thighs.
There's a pressure building at the core of her. This pit inside her stomach which aches like nothing she has ever felt before. Like an itch desperate to be scratched, she's powerless to the sensation. Yearning for relief.
A chill races up her spine at the thought of him bending her over. Her whole body shivers. A thrill as he spreads her wide open. Whispering her name. "Sigyn... Sigyn..." Over and over again. A frigid breath inside her ear as he mounts her from behind. "Sigyn!" Louder as he rams his cold, hard Jotun cock deep inside her. Thrusting harder and harder and...
A twig snaps. The noise snapping Sigyn from her daydream. Grabbing one of the blades from the scabbard at her back, she twirls straight around to greet her assailant with a sword to the throat.
"Loki?" She exhales shaky with surprise.
Though she's admittedly relieved to see him and not some attacker, still, she doesn't lower her weapon.
"What are you doing here?" She hisses, catching her breath from the sudden surprise. The embarrassment of having been caught so tragically unaware. That, and because she can't shake the image of him stripped naked inside her head. "You've no right sneaking up on a lady like that!"
"Sneaking? I'd been calling your name for near a hundred yards now!" He defends, showing her his hands as he raises them to chest level in surrender. "Why did you not answer? And why are you all... red?"
She could feel it coming on. Her skin burns hot as all the blood rushes to the surface. It only gets worse the longer he stares at her. That sly, little smirk worming onto his lips as if he knows why she is blushing. Like he somehow knows she'd been thinking of him. Like it's written in red all over her face.
"Shut it!" Sigyn snaps, trying to conceal and contain her flustered emotions. "I need not explain myself to you."
She shoves the blade further into his neck, pressed so tight against the skin that it draws blood. And yet, he just stands there with his hands raised. Still as a statue. Calm. Not fighting back.
"You're not going to kill me." Loki says so sure. Almost taunting as a bead of his own blood rolls smoothly down his throat.
"Oh, am I now?" Sigyn grits her teeth.
"Nayyyyy. Why, back inside the dungeon, when my life hung in the balance, you'd saved me. Remember?" He practically sings. His voice so playful and light, they might as well be conversing over tea and not a sword to the jugular. "Why did you save me, by the way? When you want so bad to end me, why go through all the trouble of keeping me alive?"
Sigyn doesn't answer, just holds firm to the hilt of her sword. Her feet rooted to the spot. Steady and unwavering.
"You know what I think?" Loki begs the question. "I think that there's still something between us. This pull. This... tension. I think that you still want me."
Sigyn scoffs.
"Aye. I want to kill you, is what I want."
Loki chuckles to himself, causing the tight skin of his throat to rub raw against her blade, but still, that doesn't stop him one bit.
"Is it now?" He asks with the slightest tilt of his head, but not enough to cause further injury. "Well, for all your talk, you haven't killed me yet. That has to mean for something."
"It means Thor still has use of you." She answers simply. "But once that use is no more..."
Pursing his lips, Loki shrugs.
"Still... You could have looked the other way. You could have let that thing kill me. And for that, for NOT-not saving me, you have my humble thanks."
"Well, hold your thanks. I didn't save you as much as I'd stopped someone else from killing you, is all." She makes herself sound fierce. "Tis MY right to kill you. Not his or anyone else's. I was simply preserving my vengeance."
"Then what's stopping you, woman, from exacting such vengeance?" He asks, staring at the steel in his neck, then back to her. "Why do you hesitate?"
"I told you, already. Thor..."
Loki rolls his eyes.
"Thor's just your cover. A lie. And I of all people know a liar when I hear one." He cuts her off.
The Liesmith risks everything, especially his own neck, by reaching out to touch her. Gently placing his palm flat against her chest, right atop her heart. Just as Theoric had, not so very long ago.
He calls her bluff.
"You could tell me I'm wrong. Tell me it's all in my head. That I'm crazy." He begins. Nearly pleading. "But your heart speaks an entirely different story than the lies upon your lips. I can feel it. Tell me you don't feel it, too."
Beneath his fingertips, Loki can feel the cadence of her heartbeat. How it races despite such steely features. To him, her heart sings true.
"You could kill me now, you know. If you wanted. As far as Thor's aware, I'm still back at base camp. I'd left an illusion in my stead. He'd never know." His earlier wit and whimsy turns serious. He's no longer playing. "I could tell you where I'd stashed the old man. I'd gladly forfeit that information unto you and none other. I'd write it on a gods-damned map if you so like, just please..." Loki takes a deep breath, and taking hold of her wrist, aims the tip of her sword toward his heart. "Please, if you so wish to kill me, just do it already. It would be a mercy than to endure the torment of another sleepless night without you gathered in my arms."
Tis a gamble, the game that he plays, but Loki calls her out. Laying his cards out on the table as he has. Offering unto her everything that she so desires. Odin. Her vengeance. His pound of flesh and more. All the while, his life hangs in the balance. Teetering on the scales of judgement as she contemplates his offer.
Sigyn says not a word as Loki slowly outstretches his arms on either side of him, making himself wide open. An easy target. Showing her that despite whatever choice she makes, he will not fight her. He'll accept the outcome, come whatever may.
Her eyes narrow on him. Focused. So piercing, tis almost as if she looks right through him. And that's when Loki starts to sweat. Mayhap he's made the wrong call.
Sigyn draws her arm back. Her weapon held high as if ready to attack.
Loki starts to panic. His eyes grow wide, staring at the blade as it starts to fall.
This was a bad idea, he tells himself. A stupid, stupid, bad idea.
And lo Sigyn brings the sword down with a mighty swing. Like an axe aimed right for his head.
"Nay... WAIT!" Loki cries as he hits the deck. Arms raised, covering his head in defense of her attack. But the attack is not meant for him.
The sharp blade connects with something large, but not with Loki. Instead, it connects with the beastly creature sneaking up behind them. Out on the hunt, with its sights set on making the pair its meal, starting with Loki first.
At his back, the thing's fangs were nearly just upon him when Sigyn struck first, laying her blade to rest in the strange creature's neck. Blood flies like rain as she slices straight through.
On the forest floor, Loki rolls onto his back just in time for the felled animal to fall right atop him. Half wild boar. Half wolf. Standing at the height of a full-grown man when on its hind legs. And just as heavy as one, to boot. Loki lets out a cry of surprise as the thing comes crashing down. The weight of it feeling as if it be Volstagg sitting on his chest. Not to mention, smelling just as bad, too.
"Skin it. Dress it. Then carry it back to camp." Sigyn instructs sternly. With a sharp flick of her sword, she removes the fresh blood from her weapon before returning it to its sheath. "You think you can manage that?"
Finding himself pinned beneath the massive creature's weight, Loki can do little more than grunt and groan his reply.
And without another word, she leaves him. Alone. Covered in stinking, dead wolf-swine. But he's alive. Marking twice, now, she's saved his sorry hide. As is it twice, now, she hadn't killed him. Even when given the means, motive, and opportunity. He'd practically begged, bribed her with Odin's location, and still she would not. Which only means one thing.
Covered in gore, Loki rolls the dead thing off him and grins.
"Yeah... She wants me."