"Guess who!" A teasing voice sang from behind Logan's head, as two soft hands were placed over his eyes.

Naturally, Logan's mind took that very opportunity to go completely, totally, shockingly blank. Nothing moved in his subconscious, as all his brain cells stared at each other in desperate helplessness, frozen as they all simultaneously drew a blank. "Beowulf?" He blurted out, as the first name that came to mind.

The speaker dissolved in peals of giggles, beautiful, and melodic, like wind chimes, that made Logan's heart feel fuzzy and happy within him. "Does that make you Grendel? Cause I'd rather not slay you if I don't have to."

Now he knew.

This was Sigyn.

Earlier that day, he'd been staring blankly at his arm, wondering what the five letters he'd written on it were supposed to mean, however, hoping it would come back to him later, he hadn't washed it off. Not only had he had the luck to have it come back to him figuratively, Sigyn had literally returned. The realization pulled his lips up into an unconscious smile, and he found himself quite unsure of what to say next.

"I take it you've figured it out, then." Sigyn removed her hands from his face, vaulted the back of the couch he was sitting on, and settled herself beside him. "You wrote my name on your arm!" She noticed, taking his hand with a delighted smile, pulling his forearm closer to inspect the fading ink. "So you did remember! I'm so touched."

"I told you you're very hard to forget." He beamed in delight, slightly proud of himself, and decided not to tell her that he had, actually, forgotten, until she'd returned. "Could I… can I get you some tea?"

"What a gentleman." Sigyn was all smiles, today. "But I've got plans for the two of us, already, if you don't mind. If you do, though, tea sounds delightful."

"What plans?" Logan closed the book on his lap (already having forgotten what it was he had been reading) in order to give her his full attention.

Sigyn shrugged her shoulders lightly, as if the projects were easily dismissed. "I've scheduled you for an audience with Loki's uncle, and we'll see what he says about you."

"My uncle." Logan repeated, in confusion. "On which side?"

"Your father's." She clarified. "Your mother didn't have any siblings. Well, your adopted parents, at least. Do you mind that I still call them your parents?"

Logan shook his head, mentally filing away the fact that he was adopted in the first place, yet fully aware that the next time someone made mention of it, it would be news to him all over again. "What's his name?"

"Cul. Cul Borson. Address him as Lord Cul, as he's now part of Thor's council. He's also the only one of Odin's siblings still living, thanks to Ragnarok, and he was your least favorite uncle for as long as I've known you."

He nodded slowly, and his eyes glazed over a bit as his mind was suddenly filled with the vague image of cold, angry, steel blue eyes, and a harsh, grating voice. "How long will we be at his place?"

"No later than lunch, I'd assume." Sigyn assured, leaning back against the couch. "Where would you like to go to eat? Or should we eat here?"

"I think I'd rather eat here." He decided. "If… uh…" Drat, he'd forgotten his host's name, again. He might as well trail off there rather than proclaim him as a hero of old, as well.

"Okay, sounds good." Sigyn seemed to not notice his difficulties, or was too polite to say anything. "I'll ask Fafnir if I can whip something up for the two of us."

"You cook?" He asked, to cover up the relief that she'd said almost exactly what he was thinking, and could now keep Fafnir's name in the front of his mind.

She nodded happily, fiddling a bit with the edge of the couch cushion. "I love cooking, and I've been told I'm good at it." She paused for a bit, an edge of sadness creeping into her tone, as she glanced to him. "How about you?" She asked, as if she knew what answer she wanted to hear, and was mentally preparing herself to hear the opposite.

"I don't know." He admitted, wondering which answer would have brought her beautiful smile back. "I could try to help you, though, and that might give you your answer."

Her smile returned, but it wasn't as brilliant as before. He knew she'd been pulled down a bit by her grief, as well as the hope that she would have to grieve no more, again hung up, neither let down, nor confirmed. He didn't want to discount her sadness; she'd been through so much that it would be extremely rude. However, in that moment, he wanted nothing more than for her to be truly happy, despite the pain of her life.

He wanted to be Loki. He wanted to be a man who could give her that joy. However, he wasn't sure if could be the latter without the former. He hadn't been sure he wanted to be Loki, before that day, but now, as he pushed a lock of her dark hair behind her ear, he did. Because, even though Loki was a man who had done unspeakable, horrific acts, Loki was the person who would make Sigyn happier than anyone else he could be. He could still be a good man, if he were someone else, but he wouldn't be what Sigyn wanted.

"You're awfully quiet." Sigyn's voice cut through his thoughts. "What's on your mind?"

"You." He gave her a sly wink, his stomach doing an elated flip-flop when her eyes lit up in amusement. "No, but really." He fibbed, feeling heat rise on his cheeks. "I was thinking about how many people have to believe I'm Loki for it to be official." And for him to believe it himself, he refrained from adding.

Sigyn nodded thoughtfully, glancing down a bit as she pondered the topic change. "Lord Cul is a very big deal." She decided. "I think if he believes you, you're in the clear. But if he doesn't, we'd need quite a few more people who knew you in order for Thor to see you. And then his verdict is the ultimate say."

"My whole identity rests in the hands of a man I don't even remember." Logan summed up the situation. "Or possibly have never met."

Sigyn glanced down, her shoulders lifting into a helpless shrug. "That's really what it looks like, I guess." She quietly stated. "You think that's a bad thing?"

He frowned in confusion. "What do you mean, a bad thing? It's an inevitable thing."

"So you don't think you can find an identity within yourself?" She leaned forward, her eyes meeting his in an intense stare. "What will you do if the answer is no?"

That was an excellent question. Honestly, Logan wasn't sure. Go back to his life of gliding through oblivion, alternating between mental institutes and suicide attempts? Never knowing what he was doing, where he was going, who he was? "What options do I have?"

"You could make a name for yourself." Sigyn suggested. "You don't need anyone else's affirmation to be a good man, to make a difference in the world."

"Madmen don't make differences." He countered, his voice flat.

"Good thing you aren't a madman." Sigyn chuckled.

Logan could not find it in himself to correct her. "Do you have any specific differences you have in mind for me to make?"

"That's something only you can decide." She told him. "I can't decide the path you'll take in life. But don't give up." She laid a hand on his arm with a warm smile. "You've got great things in store for you."

Logan cracked a smile, genuinely encouraged by her optimistic view of life. He wasn't nothing, in her eyes, even if he wasn't Loki. Loki would be ideal, of course, but even if he wasn't, he wasn't nothing, to her. Not a madman who forgot people existed as soon as they stepped out of the room, but an actual person. A person with struggles, no doubt, but a person she'd be willing to help. "I'll think about it." He quietly promised. "If I remember."

"That's all I ask." Sigyn grinned, and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Don't blush, he commanded himself, but to no avail. He could feel his cheeks heating up, and couldn't keep the silly smile from pulling at his mouth.

Sigyn gave him a wink, and stood up. "We'd better get going, or we'll be late."

"Where are we going, again?"

There was no judgement in her eyes, no frustration at him, as she reminded him of their destination at Lord Cul's home. She didn't treat him any differently, didn't laugh at him, or anything. Where others treated him as a madman, and had him locked up, driven him to loathe himself, his own mind, without truly remembering why, she only offered gentle support, and an unwavering smile.

It was at that very moment that he realized he finally had a friend.

Lord Cul's house wasn't very far from Fafnir's, as old Asgard's royalty had bult their homes close together, partly because of convenience of visiting, and partly because the people expected them to act as unit.

So much for that idea, really, what with all the division between them. The only true leader around here was Thor, and that was only because of expectations. The rest of them simply clung to their titles as the only thing they had left to remind them of their past.

Asgard had lost so much, and most citizens feared she would never rise to her former glory, again. A life as a humble Midgardian fishing village was better than no life at all, though, so they forced themselves to be content, maybe even grateful, near the holidays.

Lord Cul's house was slightly more aesthetically pleasing than the surrounding houses, partly because, as Sigyn explained, he was a Very Big Deal, and partly because Fafnir's younger sister, Skadi, who was also Lord Cul's niece, worked for the aging royal as a housekeeper, so the house looked generally more tidy than the others.

Sigyn pointed out the house directly to the right, which was Thor's. The only thing that was at all note-worthy about it was the golden crest of Asgard painted on his mailbox. For the house of a king, it was pathetic.

Ten years, and still the economy wasn't well enough off to treat the royalty with dignity.

There was a note on Lord Cul's door, reading, "If you don't think you're Loki, I'm occupied all day. LEAVE ME ALONE."

"First of all," Logan pointed out. "I don't think I'm Loki. I think I might be Loki. And you certainly don't think you're Loki."

Sigyn only dissolved into giggles, all over again. "I don't know…" She hummed, a mischievous smile dancing in her eyes. "I wouldn't look to shabby with a goat helmet, I think."

He could only stare blankly, completely clueless as to what she was talking about.

"You don't remember the helmet?" Sigyn guessed. "That's a shame. I'll have to show you pictures. Not your best choice of fashion, that's for sure. So are you going to knock on the door, or not?"

"I don't know." Logan glared at the note. "He could be a bit more polite."

"And you could be a bit more accommodating to his royal grumpiness." Sigyn pointed out. "It's what we all have to do, now get your courage from wherever you've stashed it away and knock."

He couldn't argue with that, and certainly didn't want to admit that he was afraid, so he did. Almost immediately, the door swung open, revealing an elderly man, tall, his once-dark hair now white as snow, glaring in disapproval at the two of them. "Morning, your Highness." He stiffly greeted Sigyn, completely ignoring Logan. "You saw the sign?"

"Yes, I did." She gave a winning smile. "And we're here to apply for Loki-ship."

Cul blinked slowly, unsure as to whether she was joking. "You think you're Loki?" He slowly asked.

"Not me! But I might have to consider getting into the business. Him!" With that, she gently pushed Logan forward.

Something prompted him to place his left fist on his right shoulder, and bow politely. "Lord Cul."

"Nope." Cul decided, and slammed the door in their face.

Sigyn and Logan stared at each other for a long moment, both a little surprised, before Sigyn snapped her fingers. "Right. Loki always addressed him as… well, honestly, I forgot, but it wasn't nice."

Logan raised an amused eyebrow at her, and shook his head. "If he treats me like that all the time, I don't blame me."

"Knock again." Sigyn advised, gesturing towards the door.

Reluctantly, Logan complied.

Lord Cul opened the door again, the most unimpressed look Logan had ever seen on a living creature on his face.

"Leave me alone." He barked, and would have slammed the door, if it wasn't for Sigyn planting one foot in the way of the door closing.

"One moment, if you will."

Apparently, Lord Cul would. He rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath about stubborn queens who always got their way, and held the door open for them. "Skadi! Put the kettle on!"

A noncommittal noise emerged from the kitchen, but then the sound of water running, and the click of a gas stove turning on. Cul didn't say another word, so Sigyn grabbed Logan's hand, and tugged him into the house. "I'm sure this won't take long." Logan apologized hastily, feeling somehow as if he was intruding, despite the appointment Sigyn had made. "We'll be off soon."

Cul only gestured to an armchair, and seated himself on the couch without saying a word. Sigyn quickly took the chair, and pulled Logan into the seat beside her, so they were squished together in the same seat. Logan turned to her with an amused, yet rather confused look, and the moment they met each other's eyes, they both burst out laughing.

"You have five minutes." Lord Cul declared, immediately shutting the two of them up. "State your case, and if you make it well enough, I'll consider believing you."

Heyo, lunchies! I 'd like to thank you for the amazing amount of feedback I'm getting for this story! Already, we've got thirteen followers, and five favorites! Thank you so much! I appreciate it more than you know.

TheOnlyHuman