Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, Elder Scrolls, Mass Effect, Dragon Age, Final Fantasy, Harry Potter, or anything else that finds its way into these pages. No disrespect intended, only homage, no profit made, only entertainment intended. If you're a fan, read it, if you don't like it, stop reading. Simple as pie.
Rating: M for Mature.
Spoilers: MANY
Chapter Twenty: Time In a Bottle
If I could save time in a bottle,
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day 'til eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you.
- "Time In a Bottle," by Jim Croce
Sigyn walked into the Fishwife's Cloister tavern for her shift as a tavern wench and was surprised to see something on the bar that she never saw there before.
Flowers. A glorious bouquet, in a clear glass vase, all the most beautiful and expensive flowers Asgard had to offer, arranged by an expert hand. She couldn't stop herself from taking a deep breath of their heady aroma.l
"They're marvelous," she said to the first shift tavern master. "Who are they for?"
"Look at the card," he said, gesturing with the mug he was cleaning. Sigyn looked.
"For my Viera Blossom," she read. She flipped the card over but it was unsigned. "What in the Realm?"
"That's not all you got," the tavern master said. "Check the kitchen."
Sigyn went into the back kitchen and found several jewelry boxes, a shoe box, and a dress box. She had no idea who sent them or why. She was most curious about the shoe box – as a Viera, and having no heels to her feet as Viera do not, she never wore shoes, they were not made for her. Either her mystery paramour did not know that, or… or what?
The tavern master stood in the doorway of the kitchen, looking in at her. "So what noble honcho are you schtupping, Sig?" he asked.
"I don't know who sent these, or why," she said.
There was an envelope on top of the stack of boxes, a fancy one made of fine parchment and sealed with red wax. She reached out and picked it up, and broke the seal with a claw. She pulled out a fine piece of folded parchment and read what was on it, printed in finest calligraphy.
"Lady Sigyn of the Wood (sic) is hereby invited to attend A Royal Masquerade Ball, this day at 12137 hours, in honor of this morning's Coronation. Attire is provided at no cost. Please attend, at the special request of His Royal Majesty."
"I can't go to a Royal Ball," Sigyn said. "I have to work."
"No, you don't. We've hired another girl to take your shift."
"What? You mean you're firing me?"
"You clearly don't need a job, you're all fancy now, going to Royal Balls and all."
"No, I… I don't know what this is about, I need this job, please don't fire me."
"Had to. Orders came from the King himself. Now take your fancy things and get ready. Your ride will be here soon."
"I… see I have no choice."
"Go on to the restroom, girl, and get dressed. This could be a good thing for you. Hook yourself a noble and you won't need to work again your whole life long."
Sigyn gathered up the boxes and went to the tavern's one restroom to change. She opened the dress box and caught her breath. The gown was pale pink, almost the exact same color she dyed her hair, and exactly the sort of thing a highborn woman would wear to a fine affair. Exquisitely tailored of the finest silk, with a belled skirt and sleeves and a low neckline with an off-the shoulder cut, it sparkled with diamonds to dazzle the eye. She loved beautiful things, but she never imagined herself wearing such a marvelous gown.
She realized she was staring far too long at the gown, and put it on. It fit perfectly. She opened the shoe box and was surprised to find an odd pair of shoes with short foot pads and high duel-spiked heels. There was a card in the box.
"To facilitate balance and increase comfort while dancing," the card read.
She slipped them on and twirled. They did make it easier. She opened the other boxes and found a golden half-mask, studded with diamonds, a diamond drop pendant the size of an egg, and a set of sparkling diamond bracelets that would hardly be seen beneath the full sleeves. She put them all on and stood there for a moment, looking at herself in the mirror. She might have stood there forever if the tavern master didn't rap on the door.
"Hurry up in there, girl, your ride is here!"
Sigyn gathered up her skirts and headed for the door. Outside, she found a skiff awaiting her, but what a skiff! Instead of a flat chunk of flying metal, it was molded with doors and a windscreen, painted black with gold details, and had black leather upholstered seats. A steward held her door open for her, and a liveried chauffeur sat behind the wheel. The hum of the glossair engines was almost silent.
"Now that's a skiff," she said.
"The Regalia is the Royal Skiff, my Lady," the Steward said. "It is usually reserved for processions."
He helped her in, got her settled, and closed the door. He got in the front passenger seat and they zoomed off through the air to the palace. Odinhall, it had been called for so many years. It would be called by the new King's name from now until the next to reign. Sigyn was like most peasants of Asgard and didn't pay a great deal of attention to Royal goings-on, and she did not even know there'd been a change of plan regarding Odin's heirs. She had not even realized the Coronation had occurred.
The Regalia pulled up before palace's main doors and the Steward debarked and got her door. She entered the palace with hesitant steps and wondering eyes.
Music was playing, not the ponderous, bombastic music Nords usually played, but lilting instrumentals Sigyn thought might be Bosmer-written. People were already dancing and feasting. A servant came up to her with a tray and offered her a taste of Anderfels ham from Vanaheim.
"Very popular, My Lady. Tastes of despair."
"What does despair taste like, and why would I want to eat something that tastes like it?" Sigyn asked.
"Don't ask me. All the nobles love it, though."
Sigyn politely begged off, and slipped through the crowd to a wall where she lingered, still uncertain why she was here. Of course, long ago, she had made the association of one of the Princes, but that was a distant memory. Not that she did not think of him often. That could not be the reason she was here, now.
She stood there for some time alone, uncertain, but then a tall figure made its way straight for her, wearing a black jacket with gold piping, a green half mask with gold details, a green shoulder cape, and a gold headguard with short curved horns. His hair was black. He stopped before her, bowed, and offered his black-gloved hand.
"May I have the honor of a dance, My Lady?" he said.
Sigyn's heart raced. She could not be certain, but she thought she knew who he was. She curtsied, a bit awkwardly as she had never done it before, and put her hand in his. He swept her away to the dance floor with graceful moves.
"Are you the reason I'm here today?" she asked, rather shyly.
"Indeed, my dear. I must apologize for my high-handedness, but you see my hopes were quite high."
"Why?"
He chuckled, showing beautiful straight white teeth. "To properly explain that could take years, and I fear you would never believe me. Suffice to say I love you, my darling. I have been in Healing for certain… issues… and I think I may be able to love you properly now, though of course I'm still striving to get better all the time. For you, my dear. Well, for me, too, but for you, also."
Sigyn felt flushed, but she had to know more. "Why do all of this in the name of the King? Couldn't you just invite me yourself?"
He laughed outright at that. "My dearest, I am the King."
"Loki… I care… deeply… but I don't see myself in the role of a King's mistress."
"I'm not asking you to be my mistress, darling." He twirled her and took a knee before her in one fluid motion. "I'm asking you to be my Queen."
The crowd stopped dancing and gathered round to watch. Sigyn couldn't breathe. Loki took a ring box from his jacket and opened it to show her a magnificent ring, a massive marquise cut emerald surrounded by diamonds.
"Say you will marry me, and give me the greatest gift any man could ask for in life. A family of my own."
Speechless, Sigyn nodded, and threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. The crowd cheered and applauded.
Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, Elder Scrolls, Mass Effect, Dragon Age, Final Fantasy, Harry Potter, or anything else that finds its way into these pages. No disrespect intended, only homage, no profit made, only entertainment intended. If you're a fan, read it, if you don't like it, stop reading. Simple as pie.
Rating: M for Mature.
Spoilers: MANY
Epilogue: Raise Your Glass
Oh shit, my glass is empty!
That sucks!
So if you're too school for cool,
And you're treated like a tool,
You can choose to let it go.
We can always (we can always) party on our own!
SO RAISE YOUR AW FUCK!
So raise your glass if you are wrong
In all the right ways, all my underdogs!
We will never be (never be) anything but loud
And nitty-gritty dirty little freaks!
So raise your glass! So raise your glass if you are wrong
In all the right ways, all my underdogs,
We will never be (never be) anything but loud
And nitty-gritty dirty little freaks!
Won't you come on and come on and raise your glass!
Just come on and come on and raise your glass!
Won't you come on and come on and raise your glass!
Just come on and come on and raise your glass for me!
- "Raise Your Glass," by P!nk
And so thus is my life, at least to this point. Tangled? Yes, but then, that is what my name means. Surely my mother saw something of the truth of my future when she named me thus. I make no apologies for what is past. I can only strive to make the future better than it could have been. I think… perhaps… I am finally at a place in my life where I may. Thank you for indulging me.