(SIGYN)
Tiwaz growled when I entered the room. He was standing with his tail puffed up on my bed.
"What's the matter with you?" I said, teasing him.
He wasn't amused and hissed harshly, jumping to the floor with a thud.
"Well, excuse me for not bringing home any scraps." I held up Theoric's rose and felt light. "I was...busy."
The flower's perfume was welcome and refreshing. Its petals, soft, and deeply saturated with vibrant color. Since Tiwaz was prone to destroying plants, I never brought any into my room, but this was a worthy exception. I opened my journal on the desk and laid the rose in the center crease, planning to write a small entry before flattening the bloom within its pages.
The cat purred loudly and chirruped at the door, now butting the wood with his head.
"Oh, so you only wanted to yell at me for a moment, is that it?"
As I spoke, a quick knock from the hall stole my breath. Tiwaz wasn't fazed and raised his tail in excitement.
"Yes? Who is it?"
When no one answered, I shook my head. Annoying strangers in the hall. People live here. I threw open the door, planning to scold any partygoers who thought loitering in the servantry was acceptable.
But the hall was empty. Dark. Tiwaz rushed around the corner and up the stairs, chasing no one. If he hadn't pushed me, I might never have seen the note at my feet.
The small piece of parchment formed a tent on the floor with the crease along the top, as if it had been hastily dropped. Paired with the knock, I presumed it was for me.
Before I picked it up, I searched the hall again. "Hello?"
Only distant yelling from the great hall answered me; the rest of Asgard was still steeped in festivities.
I shrugged and took the note into my room for better light, closing the door behind me since Tiwaz disappeared into the palace for his nightly romp. My name was carefully scripted on the side. The inner message was written in capital letters, hiding any penmanship that I might recognize.
Please come to the top of the palace bell tower. I'm waiting for you.
I bit my lip reflexively, and heat flooded my belly. Surely Theoric needed a little space to freshen up before meeting me upstairs and sent a quiet messenger to fetch me. A kiss would be wasted in the dark outside my door—but the bell tower? While I cleaned up the lines of my eye paint in the mirror, I imagined just how learned his touch might be. My feet were suffering because of the uncomfortable shoes and I exchanged them for my soft slippers.
The upper floors of the palace were deserted like the servantry, though they looked unfamiliar after so many weeks away. Only every other sconce on the north wall was lit while I ascended to the judgment hall. I intended to rush through as quickly as possible, but a delicate pile of blue before Frigga's door made me pause.
Flowers. The same ones I always chose to leave for Frigga and Mother at the door. How did Theoric know? It softened my heart to think he had thought of this, too, after I mentioned how dear she was to me and knowing I would pass it on my way. Frigga's energy was all around me because of the fighting. She'd likely saved my life many times just by teaching me how to evade an attack.
I blew a kiss to the door and continued, lifting my black skirt to hurry. While I didn't doubt he would wait for me much longer than I'd already given him, I still had a girl's worry for losing the opportunity. The consequence of being jilted too many times.
Odin's chamber called to me when I passed, but I ignored it. Stared straight ahead. Wouldn't even give it a glance. Though the doors didn't buzz like they would normally...
No. Onward. I huffed until I reached the small archway beyond, leading into a spiraling staircase that reached for the sky. It was imposing enough to look up it and see how dark everything was, only illuminated every ten or so steps. I was grateful for having traded my shoes for something more grounding. My skin erupted in goosebumps as I walked, though whether it was from excitement or the cool air from outside, I couldn't tell.
My heart pounded by the time I reached the top, onto a platform of marble and gold. To my confusion, the space was empty, but I imagined he had underestimated my own speed and tried not to let doubt creep in. A barrier around the perimeter reached the middle of my thighs, which helped trick my mind into thinking I wasn't so high.
Above me hung a grand instrument, made only to be struck in times of peace and celebration. Its bright gold shined even in the dark, and two thick bands of red rimmed the bottom. In my lifetime, I'd only heard it once, too long ago to recall its tone precisely. It begged to be touched, so I did, carefully placing my fingertips against the cool metal. It vibrated as if Asgard itself had a heartbeat.
The kingdom below was truly awesome, and like Theoric said, the whole city was visible. Torchlight and small parties dotted the streets all the way to the sea, which was cut by the rainbow bridge and the Bifrost. Even though I'd known all my life they were out there, it occurred to me that I'd never really been able to see them from any perspective that wasn't at the edge of town, imagining what other worlds existed. Leaning my body against one of the four pillars holding the roof aloft, I breathed in the crisp air and let it wash over me.
Light footfalls behind me announced his presence, allowing me to take a deep breath before I turned to him. But his voice surprised me anyway. "It's really something, isn't it?"
I spun fast, unable to catch my breath. "Loki?"
Not only was he not Theoric, he wasn't Odin, either. He was himself—the version of him that I'd always hoped to see up close but never got the chance. Loki took the final step onto the platform and stood with his hands behind his back, presenting himself. His formal golden armor, the cage around his chest, forced him to stand up even straighter than he did before. The addition of his horned helmet surprised me as well. His green cape flowed behind him, matching the deepness of his eyes, which fixated on me with an innocence that matched his closed lips.
Like this, he struck me as more than a prince. King Loki of Asgard stood before me.
"I did not think you'd come," he whispered.
My mouth hung open for a moment. Was this a trick? "I...I don't understand. You called me here?"
"I couldn't very well leave my name, could I?" He searched my face and nodded, dejected, the height of his helmet making his sullen slouch all the more obvious when he turned to leave. "You were expecting another. Forgive me. Goodnight."
"Wait—" I reached for him, fighting against all my instincts. "Was there something you needed, My Lord?"
Loki stopped. "Please, speak my name." He glanced at me with an expression I could only define as calm, since his eyebrows—which would normally give me a clue about his agendas—were hidden beneath the helmet. "Surely we owe each other that, Sigyn."
I retracted my hand. My tone was markedly less friendly. "Alright. What do you want, Loki?"
He waited a moment, searching the floor with his wide eyes, debating something in his mind. But he chose to include me in whatever he needed. "Tell me, are you familiar with the bell of Forseti?" He looked up at it. "I thought it would be appropriate to sound a call of peace. It's almost midnight. Herald a new day."
It was another kind of seduction to be involved with Loki's plans. Even this. "You may be right in doing so. But...why call me to join you?"
"And rejoice alone?" He dropped his face with a sigh. His melancholy was almost contagious. Loki moved to the edge of the platform and peered at the people in the courtyard below. "Come see this," he said, extending his left hand to me. "No tricks here, I promise."
Every sensible part of my brain screamed no, but it was outweighed by the small voice that begged for his attention. I took his invitation and he gently squeezed my fingers.
Was your touch ever so soft before?
"Watch them all." He pointed to the top of the great hall where throngs of people continued to mingle, drink, and dance. Almost subconsciously, he rested my hand on the marble barrier so he could lean over a little and keep me steady. His hand remained atop mine. "This is the first real celebration since my reign, not some party for a single nobleman. It pleases me to see them like this. It's...precisely what I'd hoped for."
He went quiet. So much so, drums and laughter from below seemed inappropriate against his mood. "Yet, I cannot join them."
I searched the courtyard again and noticed the north corner—the very place I'd spent most of my time with Theoric earlier. Guilt sunk my stomach.
"When did you finish with the...you know, I'm not sure what to call it. The ceremony? Tributes? Acknowledgments? What you did in the hall with the soldiers."
"Not long after I saw you. People weren't terribly interested in talking with me so much as they were getting their fill of drink. When no more citizens waited for my blessing, I came here." He gestured widely at the whole city. "Tomorrow the plans begin for rebuilding. This is the best place to see all of Asgard."
Somehow confirming that he likely saw me with another man made it worse. "I've been told that, though I've never been here. It is extraordinary."
He tipped his right ear down and smiled. "Listen...do you hear the music?"
I leaned over the barrier to focus and heard what he spoke of. An old, familiar tune with heavy drums. Faint, but audible enough to keep the beat. The notes that came through bit by bit reminded me of Mother's singing.
Loki stepped back, finally taking his hand off my knuckles, though now he held his right arm up with a squared elbow. Starting position. "Might the king have a dance?"
He was dangerous. Wasn't to be trusted. He knew precisely how to tear down my walls and reach in for my heart, investigating every chamber for more secrets. What was his aim? To torture me? To take me again and watch me fall? Every lesson I'd learned the past six weeks came into question as I searched for the lie behind his green gaze, and his please, and forgive me.
But how could he know just how badly I wanted to dance?
I took my skirt in my left hand and raised my right to meet his stance. His vambraces were the same tone as his breastplate, wrapping his forearms and wrists in bright gold, though they had a few battle scars which proved their worth. Our elbows and palms touched, though our chests faced opposite directions. "Lead the way," I said.
He swayed, finding the beat of the music, which had picked up somewhat. As he walked forward, he led me in a small circle, us following each other step by step with gazes united. I couldn't help but notice how the elegant flow of his cape made me feel like we danced in a group of three, not two.
Loki turned me on the axle of my hand and pulled my back into his chest, continuing the predictable steps behind me while we moved as one. For a dance that never resulted in our facing each other, his close breath was distinctly intimate. I shivered when he brushed against my left side, following the curve of my waist.
He broke the spell with conversation. "Who taught you to dance, dear Sigyn?"
"My father. A true expert on his feet." I answered more with quick footwork to embellish the simple turning.
"I see. You're a pleasure to keep pace with."
Why did he insist on pulling me in deeper with every word and flattery? I tried to keep things casual. "And I suppose dear Frigga taught you as well?"
"Indeed—though you're a much better partner than Thor."
Laughter burst from my lips and I had to stop dancing, thoroughly amused by the image in my head of the princes being forced to dance together. It was the kind of admission that was just feasible enough to make me wish I'd witnessed it myself. Loki chuckled as well, releasing my hand so I could properly gain my stance again.
He no longer had a smirk and light eyes—a quivering lip took over. Loki swallowed hard and let out a silent sigh. "If I could have attended as myself, I might've asked for your company beside me."
So this is how you'll break my heart. By kindness being overdue. I was too close to him to lie—he would've seen through it. Here in the bell tower, far from the rest of the world, there was only one answer.
"And...and I might've accepted, Loki," I said, shrugging. "I suppose that's the price we pay for broken promises."
He hummed and dropped his face, nodding to nothing, returning his gaze to me with a decidedly recovered smile. "Good thing I thought of that." Loki took my hand and stepped toward the edge of the platform, kneeling while directing me to do so as well.
I complied since he'd practically robbed me of all resistance.
The roof's edge curled enough to hide most of the sky, but on our knees, the universe was visible. A sea of black I couldn't imagine stretched beyond my wildest dreams, and pinpricks of light glimmered within. Mother's paintings and stories were nothing against them. Every wish I'd ever had was suddenly fulfilled.
"The stars..." I whispered, completely in awe. My eyes went hot as I fought back joyous tears.
He nudged my side. "I told you they could be seen from within Asgard."
"Was this where you meant?" I searched his face. "Or was this a coincidence?"
Loki released my hand, ignoring my question and displaying the sky with an open palm. "Challenge me. Ask away."
"Wow. Now that I'm here...it's overwhelming."
"Then let me start." He was almost too calm, too prepared, but his confidence left me hanging on every word. "Those two, just above the mountain. Those are Thiassi's Eyes. Legend has it, Thiassi the giant stole golden apples from the table of King Bor and was banished to the skies, cursed to watch the gods live forever in their youth." Loki's arm came startlingly close to my face as he pointed. "See how they're different colors?"
Wonder tainted my every response, likely making me appear much more youthful than reality. "What are they?" I asked, pointing straight ahead with a kick of my chin.
"The three? Those are the fishermen. A complicated name in the old language...fiskarlar." He said it while almost swallowing the word at the back of his throat, making me laugh. Loki couldn't keep me from smiling at every tale he spun from the sky, from Karlavagnen to the serpent Nidhogg.
On and on, my questions spun. Were they spirits? Were they new? Did every last one have a name? We traveled to the opposite side of the platform for a whole new collection in the other direction. Lost in Loki's magnificent voice and princely charm, I forgot about Theoric and the bright future I dreamed of only hours before.
"Now for the last," he said, standing and extending his arm to help me up. Loki led me to the southern side. "You see the Bifrost and the bridge?"
"Yes," I said, drunk on nothing but the mood.
He stood behind me and pointed straight out, keeping his eyes closely aligned with where mine were as he found the right spot. "There."
What he wanted me to notice was obvious, but why didn't he say it? Perhaps it was some sort of test. But the beacon of reddish gold, slightly flashing due north of the Bifrost, wasn't ignorable. "What's it called?"
"Its name you know well," he said, barely breathing it into my ear from behind. "That's Frigga's star."
It was a wonder I hadn't fainted by how many times he stole my breath. Here we were, once again close together in the night, and the energy between us bounced back and forth in a game of who would act first.
"I can feel her. It is divinity here, like I said. Though now I know which one is your favorite."
Loki gently turned my chin toward him with his index finger. "Do you?"
My lips tingled, hoping and yearning and resisting all at once—how did I end up in Asgard's highest tower, face to face with a handsome prince? Even more, how did he end up with me, when my place was no higher than the basement of the palace.
His eyes shifted away in an answer to my heart's apprehension. "It's time to ring the bell."
"Sure." I felt snapped from a trance, suddenly aware of the height and stepping backward to be at the center of the platform. "How does it work?"
Loki reached into a crevice along the roof's edge and produced a thick rope, which attached to some mechanism above the bell. Nearly as thick as his arm, I could see why it might take two people to pull it. He nodded at me to join him.
We alternated our hands on the rope and counted quietly to tug in unison. Resistance on the heavy line was more than I expected, and it made me all the more grateful to have steady shoes. In a satisfying knell, the bell sang for Asgard.
It vibrated the tower and through my whole body, making me laugh. So did he. "Again," he yelled. A second ring. Then a third. Loki put his hand along the red rim of the bell to keep it steady and calm the chime when we were finished.
From the courtyard below, people cheered in celebration. We'd officially beckoned a new time of peace. Music started up again, louder than before, and Loki rushed to peer over the edge to watch them.
He laughed with an open smile, though his brows pinched in the center, giving his eyes a distinct look of longing. A king too far away from his people. A man unwelcome in his own home. His expression fell, likely realizing that he could not call out to them or join in their excitement.
Loki's loneliness triumphed over mine. I pitied him.
It did us no good to stay where we were, and I worried what I might do to try and comfort him. If Theoric was meant to be my future, I couldn't repeat mistakes from the past.
"I'm afraid it's time to return home," I said. "Thank you for bringing me here. Truly."
"May I escort you?" He stood and sniffed, trying to hide the solitary tear he shed while looking downward.
"How?"
Loki gestured toward the stairway. "I have a way."
So we descended the spiral pathway from the sky to the dark halls below. Candles I passed on the way up had nearly melted through to the wick, and I wondered if my walls had been equally disintegrated—leaving me exposed, placid, and tamed to his offers when we'd reach our destination.