Chapter 12

Sigrid was annoyed.

It was not the supper her father had put together, for that was only deserving of her gratitude. Her long journey had left a fatigue in her bones that would only be remedied by a good night's sleep—and maybe Loki, if she pushed the right buttons. Entertaining a large group of people was the last thing she wanted. For now, the intimate affair of five was enough.

Eva was one of those five people, and this was still not what had her on edge. The fair lady had walked in the private dining room with a smirk that turned to shock when she saw Sigrid sitting with the dark-haired prince. It was clear Eva had expected her intervention to have a more disastrous result, and it pleased Sigrid to no end that her continued, obvious closeness with Loki had subdued the girl into her best behaviour. She just barely resisted sticking her tongue out at her as she took a seat opposite them.

Even Gri, her father's newest advisor and mother to Eva, was a delight to have around. She was much nicer than her daughter had ever been, and apparently had been a friend of her father's since they were young. This piece of information, though, took Sigrid by surprise. How was it possible that there was a childhood friend of her father's she did not know?

But not even that was the cause of her irritation. No. The thing that aggravated her—that had her scraping her fork against her plate with a blood curling frequency— was the serving girl along the far wall attempting to undress Loki with her eyes.

"Daughter, are you okay? Is the food not to your liking?" Sigrid met her father's eyes with an abashed expression. She placed her abused fork on her plate without a sound and tried to ignore the serving girl (whose name she believed was Marite).

"Everything was wonderful, papa. The tiredness from the journey is settling in, that's all." Her father nodded once before returning to his conversation with Gri. Eva, at her mother's side, narrowed her eyes at Sigrid. She looked over her shoulder to where Marite was and followed her gaze to Loki. He had either not noticed or not cared that the girl was staring at him, for his attention was on the clear glass of wine he was nursing as he spoke with Lord Oddvar.

"Territorial, are we?" asked Eva. A wicked glint reflected in her sky-blue eyes.

"What?" Sigrid wondered if anyone would object to her throwing her wine in the girl's face. She was the princess, after all. Eva was her subject.

"Oh, nothing," Eva sang. She took a swig of her own drink then leaned toward Sigrid over the table. "But you should be careful with her," she warned, voice low, "of all the things to do, men are her favourite, and she's been talking about bedding the Prince Loki ever since his arrival."

Sigrid clenched her jaw. Eva's words were too taunting, attitude too condescending for it to have come from a place of good. And yet, Eva sat with an innocent look on her face, one pinky out as she speared a piece of meat with her fork. "I don't much appreciate—" A warmth enveloped her hand. Fingers—Loki's— slid between the crevices of her own.

His attention was still on Lord Erling. They were talking about the joust tomorrow that Sigrid had little interest in. Somehow, during the horse and lance talks, he had noticed her mood change enough to give her hand a gentle squeeze. A reminder, she decided to believe, that Eva's words were just words, and the serving girl did not pique his interest.

"Are you excited about the competition tomorrow, Sigrid?" Gri's voice provided a welcome distraction from Marite's lustful stares. Sigrid made a face in her mind. How was she to tell this woman, who was sunshine personified, that watching men push each other off horses with pointy sticks was as boring to her now as it was when she was younger?

"I suppose it would be exciting if I were allowed to go." If her father was going to keep her hidden from the masses until her birthday, she might as well use it to her advantage. This way she did not have to lie or let down the woman opposite her.

"You must go— Oh, dear!" Gri's wild gesture of her arm caused her elbow to knock her glass of the table. The king caught it by the stem, and its emptiness allowed a messy disaster to be avoided. "Whoops! I'm so clumsy."

"It's alright." Her father smiled, and then he did the most peculiar thing; he reached out and touched her elbow. It was not a casual touch, either. Rather it was a caress. It reminded Sigrid a lot of the way Loki touched her. "And Sigrid is right. I'm not sure the joust would be safe for her. I should cancel it, actually…"

"Would that not raise suspicion amongst the public?" asked Eva, addressing the king with an unexpected familiarity. "If you're trying to conceal the princesses' return it would be better to keep everything the way it is." Gri nodded in tandem with her daughter.

The resemblance between the two was uncanny. They shared the same golden locks and straight nose, slender bodies that carried themselves with an unspoken poise and confidence. Eva looked like a younger copy of her mother in all areas except the eyes. Where Eva's were blue, Gri's were the colour of fresh grass in springtime. Darker than Loki's but nowhere near as pretty. Eva's eye colour must have come from her father, which considering the genetics of the Vanir, could be any of the seventy five percent of the male population.

"I know you want to keep Sigrid in the palace," Gri began, eyes on the king, "but I actually think it would be better to expose her in increments. The joust is only for the nobles. Let her come meet them. The last thing you would want is to overwhelm her for her birthday." Ivan pursed his lips in thought.

As much as Sigrid had never enjoyed the jousting tournament, she had to admit Gri's suggestion sparked her interest. The faster she could get the nobles to accept her, the faster she could convince them that she need not marry someone to be queen. "Father?"

"If you're worried about her safety, I will be with her," Loki spoke up. "I will not let anything happen to her."

"I know you will not, my boy," Ivan replied, "but that is not the issue. As you may know, it is tradition for men and their sons to partake in the tournament. I have no son, just the blessing of a daughter," here, he shared a grin with Sigrid, "so I have never been able to partake."

Loki sat forward in his seat. "That, I did know."

"Well, I was quite hoping that you would participate with me this year." Sigrid felt Loki's grip on her hand slacken. Even she, for all her disinterest in the tournament, was at a loss for words. To partake in the joust was an honour—winning it even more so—- and if her father considered Loki so much that he was willing to ask him to step in as his son…

"Is that allowed?" Loki questioned. His tone was even, the only evidence that he was touched the softness of his eyes and crease of his forehead. On Asgard Thor was always the first choice for any sort of father-son activity. A lot of them did not hold Loki's interest, much like the one in question, but it would not have killed Odin to ask him ahead of Thor every once in a while. His reaction to being the first choice almost brought Sigrid to tears.

"Is anyone going to deny the king?" Jest was alight in her father's voice. "You can joust, correct?" Loki nodded. "Good! Then it is settled. Loki will stand with me tomorrow."

"Excellent!" Gri gave a little clap of her hands. "Eva and I will stay with the princess. We'll introduce her to some of the older nobles before it starts so she can get used to being around them." Eva coughed into her drink. Her mother gave her a look. "Is something the matter, dear?"

"I'll pass on tomorrow," she replied. Her face was twitching with dismay, and it was clear she despised her help being offered without her permission. "Hilda and I have a date. Good luck, though."

Gri frowned. "You're not coming? You love the joust."

"The joust, yes. Helping with the nobles? Not so much."

"If she doesn't want to go, we should not force her," Sigrid offered, more for her own sake. For whatever reason, Eva still harbored feelings of resentment towards Sigrid. On Asgard it was not bearable, but here, on her own realm, she refused to put up with the behaviour. The less time she spent around Eva the better.

"How kind of you, Sigrid, to allow my absence so." Eva rolled her eyes. "How kind."

"Your highness," Sigrid corrected.

Freezing glaciers met orbs of the earth. "Pardon me?"

Sigrid uncrossed her ankles, allowing her to sit upright. Loki placed a restraining hand on her thigh. She threw her shoulders back and looked at her subject, forcing herself to ignore the goosebumps that Loki's hand caused on her skin. Her wits were at their end with the girl's insolence. "You used my first name. I have not bestowed that privilege upon you. I am the princess of this realm-your future queen-and you will address me as such. Understood?"

The tension that followed her reprimand was palpable. Even Marite had managed to pull her eyes away from Loki to gaze upon the two girls. Eva stared her down with a fire in her eye that Sigrid knew was reflected in her own. They were alike, she guessed, in that way where they both took no disrespect. Had Eva not been such a horrid bitch, the two of them would have made great friends.

"I do not quite—"

"Eva." The silencing voice came from her father. She expected it to be louder— a shout or maybe a hint of distaste for the way Eva had spoken to her. Odin had thrown people out of his events for less. So, it came as an unwelcome surprise when the name fell from his lips like a resigned plea. "That's enough."

Eva's head snapped to his. "I was only—". Gri placed a hand on Eva's. It shut her up immediately. The two shared a look that spoke of a mutual understanding, although Eva seemed less than pleased. She turned to Sigrid with a stony glare and rose from the table. "I think it best I retire to my chambers for the night. My king, mother… your highness." The title felt like a slap from the girl's mouth.

"I should go with her," Gri said. "Make sure she's okay." She shared a nod with the king, then gave Sigrid a half smile. "Bright and early, princess. Do make sure to get some sleep." As the older woman left, Sigrid felt a bit of embarrassment creep in. She should not have let Eva get her so riled up, especially when a reaction was what she had set out to achieve.

"Well, I hope your jousting skills are as good as your magic, Loki," her father told him in an attempt to break to awkwardness. "Erl and Leif win almost every year."

"Leif?" Loki inquired, throwing a look at the mustached man to his right. It was then that she saw him put two and two together. "Right. Leif Erlingson."

"Where is Leif?" Sigrid wanted to know. "I thought he'd be here with you, Lord Erling."

"He returned to the mountains not long after he came home. Don't worry, he'll be here tomorrow."

"Great," she heard Loki murmur. He met Sigrid's gaze with a sly wink over the top of his glass.

"Yup," Lord Erling showed off his pearly whites. "He won't miss this. How else would we continue our winning streak?"

"Come now, Erl." Ivan leaned back in his chair. He motioned the serving girl to refill his glass. Sigrid herself had already had four glasses. She was nursing her fifth, and her body had long numbed with the effects of the liquid. There was no doubt in her mind that she may bite Marite if she tried to come near Loki. "You lost a few years ago."

Erling pointed a good- natured finger at his friend, the king. "That is not true! We both saw Egil fall off the horse."

"Erl, you didn't touch him."

"He went down, didn't he?" Erling challenged.

"The man is as thin as a piece of wire!" Her father exclaimed. "A stiff breeze could topple him!" Sigrid gave a snort. She placed a hand to her mouth to contain her giggles. Out of the corner of her eye, and saw Loki shaking with laughter. He had one arm folded across his chest, the other propped on it to allow his forehead to rest on his hand. His laughter, like hers, refused to be stifled.

Sigrid's lips turned up as she watched him. She had been so afraid that he would deprive himself of such simple joys following the events of the past few days. Asgard would not heal him, and while she did not expect one day on Vanheim too either, she was glad to see that he was doing much better than she had expected.

"Is everything alright?"

"Hmm?" Sigrid shook her head and blinked. "What?"

"You were staring at me," Loki clarified, reaching out to smooth the creases between her brows, "and thinking rather hard, I might add. Is something the matter?"

"Not at all." She leaned forward onto her hand. "I'm just glad you still decided to come with me."

"I promised you, did I not?" His hand reached down to take hers again. He laced their fingers together, bringing the dorsal surface of her hand to his mouth for a kiss. It was the wine, she convinced herself, that emboldened him to take such an action in view of her father. "And I never lie to you."

"No, you do not." Loki was pulled back into the conversation by a stray comment about seidr. He answered it well, with a loaded question launched back at the two men about their healing sector. Sigrid laughed as Erling sputtered to answer why they always seemed to lose twice as many soldiers as realms who freely practiced magic.

It was only an hour later, when the last dregs of wine had been drunk and everyone was tipsy and ready for bed, did she realized that Loki was still holding her hand.

ooOOoo

"Do you think they're together?" Loki raised his head. He followed Sigrid's line of sight to where her father stood with Lady Gri across the courtyard. They were in the midst of a jovial exchange, with Ivan throwing his head back at some joke Lady Gri had made.

"I couldn't possibly say." He saw Sigrid frown when Gri brushed some lint off her father's armor and let her hand linger in his chest. "Does it bother you?"

"I don't know," Sigrid shrugged. "It's strange to think of him with anyone but my mother."

Loki lay a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, and he could see the storm brewing in her eyes. From this angle the sunlight hit them directly, warming them to a golden pool of honey. He decided right then and there that a more enamoring colour had never existed. "We don't know anything for sure. Perhaps you can ask him."

Sigrid ran a hand over her face. "I should, but I don't want him to feel judged. If he's happy then I don't have a problem with it, though it would add some sense to Eva's behaviour."

"Her behaviour makes no sense." Loki's voice came out harsher than intended. He had seen the way Eva had taunted Sigrid the night before. Add to that her designed revelation of Leif and Sigrid's relationship and she was very low on the list of people Loki could stand. "Even if her mother is with the king, it doesn't give her the right to take it out on you. You have no fault in this."

The grateful grin Sigrid gave him just about brought him to his knees. "Always on my side, aren't you?"

"There's never been a reason for me not to be."

Her hands started moving over his armour, checking it to make sure it was secure. Loki had always hated heavy armour. It was thick, hard to move in and made him sweat like he was standing near the sun. He much preferred the leather and thinner metal of his daily wear, but when Sigrid went, "This armour suits you rather well," his chest puffed out on its own accord.

"Really?" he questioned, running a hand through his hair to smooth the strands. It would be covered by a helmet in just a few, he knew, and he had pulled it back into a little tie in preparation.

"Yes, really." A trumpet blew, signaling the games were about to begin. "I should get to my seat," Sigrid told him. "Good luck, and if you find yourself opposing Leif, do try to be nice." She tip-toed, presumably to kiss his cheek, then seemed to realize they were in public. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay," he caught at her hand. "Can we talk, though, after the joust? About us?"

"Yes," she whispered, in the tone of someone who had long been awaiting answers. "After." She left him then to go to her seat, a bejeweled and golden chair on the highest level of the spectator area. Loki watched her as she collected Lady Gri and made her way up the steps. He did not look away until she was seated with her guards surrounding her.

"Loki!" It was the king, striding over with two men at his side. One was Lord Erling, who he had met the night before and found pleasant enough. He was a little boastful, though nothing out of the ordinary for an older lord. The next man was one he knew not well, but by force. His eyes cast a dubious look in Loki's direction as they approached. "Glad to see you all ready. You know Leif, right?"

"Yes." It seemed as though Leif were holding his breath, and Loki could not blame him. His behaviour towards the man thus far had been as choppy as the waters that night on the bridge. Still, Sigrid had asked him to be nice, and oblige he would. "Leif. Nice to see you again."

"You as well, Prince Loki." Leif gave his extended hand a wary shake. It pleased him a little to know he unnerved the man so. "All set for the tournament?"

"Yes, although your father tells me you're the one to watch."

"Oh," Leif made a face. "Father, have you been boasting again? This is exactly how we lost last time. You were too busy egging Lord Egil on to notice your lance was not properly mounted."

"Ah," Lord Erling waved a hand, "that was a miscount."

Loki watched the father and son carry on. It was odd, he noticed, how although they were disagreeing, they still managed to remain light and respectful. There was no shouting or raised voices, no commands or power trips like he was used to. Just a simple differing of opinion that ended in a pat on the back and two raucous bouts of laughter.

"It was supposed to be you, you know?" Loki raised a brow at the king. "When my advisors started bringing up the topic of Sigrid's marriage, my first choice was you."

Loki took a few steps back. The lance, which he was holding to get used to the weight, fell from his fingers. "I-What? Me?" The king gave an amused nod. "Why?"

King Ivan fixed him with a stare. He seemed to be trying to discern whether Loki's reaction was real or not. Considering his trickster nature, he could not blame the man. Finally, his shoulders lifted in resign. "Do you know what Sigrid said in her very first letter to me after dropping her off on Asgard?"

"No."

"She wrote, and I quote, 'Papa, you must come collect me at once. The younger Odinson boy is most infuriating and all he does is play tricks on people and hog the library. Do you think the King Odin and Queen Frigga would look unfavorably upon my kicking him in the shin?"

The image of a tiny Sigrid, all pent-up anger and untamed hair scribbling those words on a piece of parchment made Loki snicker. "It was a rough start, our friendship. Nothing I would not endure again to reach where we have." King Ivan looked satisfied with his answer.

"Her feelings changed, obviously, as did the tone of her letters where you were concerned. The only thing that did not change was her mention of you. Year after year, letter after letter, she found some way to include you in them." Loki flushed scarlet at the king's words. "I, myself, have seen the way my daughter is around you. Many a visit to Asgard has proven that you two belong at each other's sides. How you choose to go about it is what puzzles me."

"What do you mean?" Loki asked.

"After a while, I started anticipating you would come ask my permission to court her. It was clear you were both very close so what would be that harm? People have courted for less and without the connection you two have." Oh, Thor would be on the floor if he could see Loki now. A gaping, stammering mess who could not do the one thing he was known for: speaking. "And when I heard she started dating, but that person was not you, I grew even more confused. I thought I had misunderstood what I had seen, so I left it alone."

"Is that why you changed your mind?" Loki wondered aloud. "About me marrying her. Had my inability to ask offended you?"

"Oh, no!" Ivan put a hand on Loki's shoulder. "You've never offended me, my boy. Although you both remained friends, I decided that a marriage between two as close as you was not the worst thing. Love is a strange thing, that. It comes in so many forms. All I ever wanted was for Sigrid to marry someone who would love her— in whatever way she needed. So, I wrote to your father—"

"My father?" At the mention of Odin, things started to fall into place. "He never told me anything about this."

"He said that he appreciated the offer and the chance to unite the kingdoms, but you were not ready for marriage—"

"But I would have!" Loki's cry drew alarmed looks from the competitors walking into the arena. They had restricted access before when Sigrid was on the field, only now allowing them to enter as she had left. "Believe me," Loki repeated in a much lower voice, "I would have accepted had I known."

A conflicted look crossed the king's face. "I do believe you." His voice was soft. "The question is, why would Odin keep this from you? Princes and princesses have a right to be presented with all marriage proposals."

Loki's mouth thinned into a line. He had a few ideas well why Odin had chosen to conceal this from him. Instead of voicing them, however, he chose a different route. "Is there any way it can still happen?"

"The marriage?" Loki nodded. "Son, you must understand that once Odin turned it down— a fact I assumed you were aware of— Leif was the next possible choice. After he accepted, things began to move very quickly. Even as king there are limits to what I can stop once in motion."

The trickster's eyes strayed slowly to the stands where Sigrid sat. She was deep in conversation with a rather rotund lord who sported a long beard similar to Volstagg's. Her posture was as perfect as ever as she listened to what he was saying, nodding intently to show her interest. Then, as though she sensed him, she met his gaze and gave a little wave. He raised his own hand in return. "There must be something that can be done," he decided. "Kings overrule marriages all the time. I know that for a fact, I've seen it happen."

"Hmm…". King Ivan stroked his chin. There was a well-defined beard sitting on the lower half of his face. "There may be something I can do," Loki perked up, "but I will do nothing until I speak to Sigrid. She has expressed no want to marry Leif, and I must ascertain how far her feelings on this matter stretch. Is it the institution of marriage on the whole or just to this one man?"

"Of course," Loki replied. His feet were itching to run to Sigrid and tell her her father needed to speak to her at once. "I would never force her into anything. If she wishes to remain unwed, then so it shall be."

"Good," Ivan pat him on the back, "I will speak to my daughter later." Loki tried to contain his excitement as the man handed him a helmet. Was it possible-truly possible-that he and Sigrid could unite in way he never dared to dream they could? "Now, I hope you understand that I am competitive by nature. I would expect the same from anyone who was gunning to be my son-in-law."

Loki tilted his head to the side. "My king?" Ivan's only response was to toss him the lance.

"Show me what you got, son."