Chapter 2
The Necklace
The days following the wedding passed in a happy blur as Loki and Sigyn settled into married life. Apart from the temptation to retire to his chambers early and remain abed late, the prince's routine was mostly unchanged. Sigyn, however, found her life as an Asgardian princess very different to her life with her family at Noatun. No longer did she need to rise before the sun each morning, to ensure that the cook started breakfast, to check the nets they cast in the shallow water along the beach, and to shepherd her five younger sisters through meals and lessons. In her grandfather's hall, Sigyn rarely found a moment to sit idle, but at the Asgardian palace, servants tended to the princess's every need.
There was a maid who brought Sigyn's breakfast, and another who made her bed. There was a maid who pulled back the draperies in her bedchamber, one who drew her bath, another who brushed her hair and yet another who laid out the exquisite gowns and jewels that Sigyn wore each day. They flitted in and out of the royal apartments like fairies, delivering teacups and messages, seeming to anticipate her every need.
The sudden abundance of leisure was not the only change.
Sigyn arrived at the palace with what she thought, at the time, to be an impressive trousseau. She and her older sister Nanna toiled for weeks, sewing until their fingers bled, scavenging every bead and scrap of silk they could find to cobble together five dresses fit for the Asgardian Royal Court. Those gowns were lost now, swallowed up inside a closet stuffed to overflowing with creations from the best tailors in all the nine realms. There were robes with high collars, low collars, tight bodices, loose bodices, jewelled hems, long trains, short trains, diaphanous silk, study velvet, ceremonial armor- more variations than Sigyn could count, all made up in the most exquisite fabrics and trim.
"No wonder Sif doubted that I was a real princess when we were little," Sigyn thought one morning, as she stopped to admire herself in one of the full-length mirrors that lined her dressing room. Her clothing now was nothing like the plain linen shifts she wore even a year before. She looked almost nothing like the sun-freckled girl with wind-blown hair and salt-stained hems she had been for so many years. Now she looked so…
"Asgardian…" Sigyn admitted with a guilty sigh.
Of course, the Aesir, with their golden palaces and rainbow bridges would want to drown their womenfolk in jewels and silk. It was so terribly wasteful. Sigyn sighed again when she thought back to the ruin of Vanaheim. The cost of the gown on her back could surely pay to rebuild an entire house. The jewels on her neck could feed a village.
Patience. Sigyn told herself. Odin promised in the marriage contract that her home realm would be rebuilt. The old king was certainly rich enough to pay for reconstruction and pretty dresses too.
Besides, Loki loved seeing her like this.
The thought of her husband returned a smile to Sigyn's lips. Loki was always so fashionable himself, insisting on the finest of everything. He loved dressing his wife up like a doll- and undressing her…
"You're looking very pleased with yourself this morning."
Almost as if Sigyn had summoned him with her mind, Loki entered the dressing room. He stood behind his wife at the mirror, twining his arms around her waist and resting his chin atop her head.
"Shouldn't I be pleased?" Sigyn asked, inviting his comment on her gown. Loki's eyes swept over her reflection in the mirror, taking in the soft folds and delicate embroidery of the dress.
"Quite pleased," he said, rendering his verdict. "Although..." His hand slid heavily along the curve of Sigyn's waist -a movement that was meant to seem like an appraisal of the garment but set his wife's nerves on fire. "I do think another color might better favor your complexion." Loki considered the copper silk for a moment. Then, with a subtle wave of his fingers, the fabric transformed to a shade of icy blue.
Sigyn laughed and twisted in the embrace to face him.
"Show off."
"I am right though."
Sigyn sighed.
"You are."
Loki kissed her forehead. "I always am."
Sigyn rocked forward on her tiptoes, intending to kiss him again, but Loki looked past her to the lady's maid hovering in the corner of the room.
"Which jewels will the princess wear today?"
The woman offered an apologetic murmur. "I had thought gold, your Highness. That is what I brought in from the vault. But with the new color…" Her voice trailed off apologetically.
"Perhaps you should go and select something else." The Prince said, completing the thought and dismissing the servant with a nod. Loki waited for the click of the door behind her before lifting his wife onto her dressing room table and devouring her with a hungry kiss. It was several moments before they broke apart, panting and needy.
"What brought that on? "Sigyn asked shyly.
"Have you forgotten? I'm leaving today."
"Vanaheim." Sigyn replied.
Loki nodded. "Father wants Thor and me to check in on the rebuilding efforts. We're going to leave by late morning. I won't be back for two or three days."
"I wish that I could come."
"As do I, but it isn't safe."
"Not safe?" Sigyn pouted. "I managed perfectly well the last time we were there." She picked up a lock of her husband's hair and twisted it in her fingers as she thought back to their last visit to her home world. It was a brief but memorable stay on their way to Svartalfheim. Loki had blackmailed her to take him there. She could never have imagined back then that this man would become her husband.
"Officially, you weren't there," Loki reminded her. "Besides, do I need to remind you about how close we both came to being eaten by ettins? I never would have put you in so much danger if I had known. Vanaheim is no place for fair young maidens right now."
"Sif is going," Sigyn shot back, churlishly.
"Well, I have it on good authority that Sif is neither of those things, so..."
Sigyn couldn't help but laugh. She burrowed her head against her husband's chest. "Neither am I anymore," she reminded him with a suggestive whisper.
A low growl escaped from Loki's throat. He pulled Sigyn off the dresser and tugged her toward the bedroom, but they were intercepted at the doorway by the returning servant.
"Ah! your Highness... your Highness." The woman bowed her head to the prince and princess, in turn, utterly oblivious to what she had just interrupted. "I brought a selection of pieces that I thought might compliment the new shade of the gown." The maid opened a box she was carrying and took out a leather pouch. "These earrings were a gift for your wedding, your Highness. "She produced a pair of diamond snowflake earrings for Sigyn's inspection. "They're exquisite - and I don't think you've ever worn them before."
Sigyn blanched at the sight of the jewels. In the weeks since the wedding, she had almost forgotten the snowflakes and the svefnthorn collar. Now, however, the memory came flooding back. She reached unsteadily for Loki's hand.
"Your Highness?" The servant asked, noticing that her mistress had gone pale. "Are you quite alright?"
"Yes. She's-"Loki began to speak, but decided against explaining himself. "Those earrings. They arrived with another piece. Did you happen to see it?"
The servant's smile returned. "Yes, Highness. In fact, I have it with me. I noticed that it was for you and was mixed in with the Princess's things. I was going to deliver it to your valet. " She fished to the bottom of her tray of baubles and handed over a gleaming golden metal band.
The prince and princess exchanged a look of wariness.
Loki plucked the necklace out of the servant's hand.
"You're dismissed," Loki said brusquely. After the woman obeyed, he handed the collar to his wife. "Well?"
"Well, what?"
Loki didn't need to respond in words. The look that he offered spoke volumes.
"You want me to test it again?"
"I know that you're not going to be satisfied until you do."
"You still think I was imagining things."
Loki squeezed her shoulder. "I still think you were…adorably tipsy," he said diplomatically. "And possibly confused."
"Adorably tipsy enough to imagine shrieking? Burning and freezing at the same time?"
"Alright. Adorably drunk."
Sigyn took a steadying breath and held the necklace up to the light. She looked to her husband for reassurance before turning the golden curve over in her hand and repeating her actions from the night of the wedding. She closed her eyes and dragged her fingertip up along the curve until she touched the sleep thorn. She inhaled sharply when her skin made contact with the engraving and…
Nothing happened.
"Well? "Loki tilted his head, awaiting his wife's pronouncement, but Sigyn remained silent. She tried again. Still, the necklace did not react to her touch. There was no darkness. No shrieking no pain.
Sigyn met Loki's eyes sheepishly and shook her head. "Nothing." She was both embarrassed and relieved. "You were right."
Loki kissed the top of her head once more. "I keep telling you. I always am."
"Behold, the Watery Realm of Vanaheim!" Fandral announced with his typically theatrical flourish as the Bifrost deposited Loki, Thor, Sif, the Warriors Three and a cohort of Einherjar on a hilltop with a panoramic view of the valley and sea below.
"What do you think of your Kingdom?" Volstagg asked, drawing his stallion alongside Loki's as they both drank in the view.
"You mean his son's Kingdom," Fandral corrected.
"Loki will be prince consort of Vanaheim, not king." Sif supplied with a pointed tone.
Loki's fingers tightened on his reigns.
Fandral grinned, oblivious to his companion's displeasure. "That sounds like pleasant work- consorting with a Queen. Especially with one as luscious as Sigyn."
Loki wheeled his horse around suddenly, causing Fandral's own mount to rear in fright. The warrior struggled to hold his seat.
"Take care how you speak of my wife." Loki hissed.
"It was a jest, Loki!" Thor rode between the pair and attempted to diffuse the tension, "I'm sure that Fandral meant no offense." He gave his younger brother a reassuring pat.
Volstagg nodded and added in a conspiratorial whisper, "He's just jealous."
"Well, I'm sure that is true," Loki agreed, somewhat mollified by the compliment.
"You certainly look the part of a king today," Volstagg continued to soothe Loki with compliments, "That's a striking bit of gold on your armor. I don't recall seeing it there before."
Loki reached self- consciously toward his neck where the golden collar shaped like a snake laid flat against his breastplate. When he left Sigyn earlier that morning, it was with the intention of delivering the piece to his valet, but he couldn't resist the temptation to try it on. He was taken by how well it looked-even more so when he discovered that it fit perfectly with his armor, almost as if it had been made to order and decided to wear it on the journey. He was gratified that Volstagg had noticed. The man might lack all semblance of personal style, but at least he had the ability to recognize it in others.
The group made its way down the hill and toward the water without incident. They followed a cobbled road through the maritime forest before emerging near chalk-colored cliffs that edged the sea. In the distance, Loki could just make out the spire of the Vanir castle glinting in the sun. He began to recognize landmarks from when he and Sigyn passed this way before.
The sun was dipping low on the horizon when they reached the edge of the castle town. It looked more or less as Loki remembered.
The first tranche of Asgardian laborers and repatriated Vanir arrived very shortly after the wedding. In their months of effort, they had managed little more than clearing vines and carrying some of the rubble away. The ravages of war and time were pervasive. Half of the houses were still swallowed by weeds, while others were afflicted with sagging roof lines and broken windows that gaped like missing teeth.
'It certainly doesn't look like they've made much progress," Thor said, frowning.
Odin doesn't really mean to rebuild Vanaheim. He never keeps his promises to you at all.
Loki frowned as the thought leapt, unbidden, into his mind. It was true that things were proceeding more slowly than usual. Sigyn mentioned that the Vanir who asked to leave Asgard were facing resistance, but that was merely the result of millennia of prejudice and distrust. The Allfather himself couldn't be behind the delays.
"We'll go to the castle," Thor announced. He turned to the captain of the Einherjar. "Meet up with your counterpart and see where they need reinforcements. The rest of us will ride up to the castle."
Who put Thor in charge? Vanaheim was Loki's concern, not his.
Loki scowled and moved his horse to the front of the party, determined, at least, to lead the way into the castle. Work at restoring the old fortress was further along than in the town below, and it was already beginning to show some of its former glory.
The palace of Vanaheim was nothing close to the scale of the one in Asgard, but it was a wonder all the same. Perched atop the highest hill at the edge of the realm's legendary bottomless sea.
The citadel rose up from the edge of the cliffs like an auger shell, with a slender ramp that wound upwards along the outer wall like a corkscrew, finally ending in a glittering crystal spire. The walls along the path were covered in seashell mosaic murals depicting Vanir heroes of old. Pieces were missing and worn away, but enough remained to tell the history of the realm, from the first sea goddesses stepping out of giant shells through the last great conflict with the Frost Giants when the great sea was turned to ice.
After a long climb, the path levelled out. There was a sunny courtyard where the party left their horses before entering the throne room.
"This is a lovely place! "Sif exclaimed with surprising sincerity as she drank in the sight. It was the highest room in the castle, directly beneath the crystal spire. Light from above rained down in pure white beams that cast rainbows on the walls and sea glass floor. Giant windows offered a clear view of the roiling sea. In the rear of the room, on a high marble dias was a coral throne.
One throne. A Queen's throne.
"Yes!" Volstagg joined in Sif's appreciation. "Extraordinary. Loki, you and Sigyn will be very happy here."
"It will be a pleasant place to visit," Loki agreed." But I expect my duties will keep us mainly in Asgard."
A look passed between the others. Loki saw them, but no one spoke.
"Yes. Uhm-" Volstagg broke the awkward silence. "Throne rooms are well and good, but I want to see what's really important- Where is the feasting hall?"
Loki lingered behind the others as they toured the restored castle, his mind swirling with angry thoughts.
They think Father's made up his mind already. They think Thor will be named King of Asgard. I'm being sent here as some sort of consolation prize. Vanaheim. An insignificant nowhere. And not even as a king! As a consort to my wife. Will I be Sigyn's subject then? Thor's?
They ate dinner and retired to bed. Still, Loki's mind refused to be quiet. He rubbed his finger anxiously along the golden collar as his mind raced. His valet tried to take it away, along with his armor and the rest of his clothes at the end of the day, but the Prince felt an odd reluctance to let it leave his sight. The sensation of tracing the smooth, cool metal with his fingertip soothed him as he lay awake in the unfamiliar bed, still quietly fuming about the Allfather's slights.
A rumble of thunder interrupted Loki's thoughts. He dropped his hand to his side and climbed out of bed to walk to an open terrace window.
He was sleeping in the bedroom he would share with Sigyn one day. It was situated at the center of the palace and had the most commanding view of the sea. From his vantage, high atop the cliffs, he could see for miles over the water. A storm was moving in. Loki watched with interest as the clouds swirled and flashed. There was never foul weather Asgard. Every day the sky cycled between cerulean blue and twilight pink, dotted with fluffy clouds that never even hinted at rain. That was yet another example of the Allfather's unyielding insistence on perfection- of his iron control.
Sigyn once mentioned that she missed the sound of rain at night.
Loki smiled fondly when he thought of his wife. They had spent less than a handful of nights apart since their wedding. It was no wonder he couldn't sleep.
Loki closed his eyes and concentrated, using all his energy to focus on the kahalan that Sigyn had taught him. He still couldn't use the Vanir mindsong to form words, and Sigyn was so far away that it was a struggle to make the connection, but for just a second, he managed to find her. Loki could feel her beside him as if she were there, bundled beneath the blankets of their marriage bed, breathing softly as she slept.
Outside the window, lightning flashed as the clouds drew closer.
Sigyn will love it here, Loki thought, tenderly at first, but then the thought soured.
Why shouldn't she love it? Sigyn is going to be queen. What is a 'consort' exactly? Is she going to dress me up and send me to tea parties while she handles affairs of state?
Loki remembered the vision of Sigyn sleeping and a surge of warmth momentarily calmed him. This wasn't her fault. The arrangement was Njord and Odin's idea. They were both against the wedding to begin with. If they couldn't stop it, both men probably would have preferred that Sigyn married Thor.
Thor wouldn't be made a consort, beholden to his own wife and son. Thor was never second place. Never second choice.
A terrible clap of thunder shook the palace as Loki reached to touch the necklace again.
In Asgard, Sigyn Freyadottir opened her eyes and screamed.