Chapter 10

"Lys. How now, my love! why is your cheek so pale?

How chance the roses there do fade so fast?

Her. Belike for want of rain, which I could well

Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.

Lys. Ay me! for aught that I could ever read;

Could ever hear by tale of history,

The course of true love never did run smooth;"

Loki's mouth turned down into a grimace. He read over the last line, letting it swim in his mind for a moment before deciding it was utter ridiculousness. What did a Midgardian playwright know of true love? Their lives were but a speck on the timeline of the universe. There was no way one mortal man was able to find and understand in such a short time what had eluded the prince for nearly two hundred years now— and certainly not enough to produce multiple works on.

Scoffing, Loki turned the book over in his hand. It disappeared into thin air where it waited in a pocket dimension to be read again by the contemplative prince. The past works he had read from the man contained pretentious language—almost as though he were trying hard to appear above the rest of humanity. Some of the plots were good, such as Julius Caesar and Macbeth. Others left a lot to be desired, for why on earth one would commit suicide instead of checking to see if their lover was alive was beyond him.

"Hmm…". The gentle noise drew his attention to the slumbering woman at his side. Sigrid sat with her head on his shoulder, dark waves blowing in the breeze that came through the carriage window. One of them had gotten stuck on her lip stain. In her sleep, she wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips to rid herself of the annoyance.

Loki gave a chuckle. He dislodged the curl from her lips with one swipe and tucked it behind her ear. Sigrid's face settled immediately.

He had been surprised when, just two days after his altercation with his father, she had announced it was time for her to return home. His actions in the tub had led him to believe she no longer wished him to accompany her, so when she had strode into his room that morning and demanded to know why he was still in bed, Loki hopped to the task of getting ready to leave Asgard.

Part of him knew that his recent familial trouble was the catalyst for Sigrid moving up her trip. Her birthday was still days away, and things were already set for that date, so only something of the highest importance would have made her throw all those plans away.

The other part of him—the part that had protected her and been her closest confidante thus far—felt he no longer deserved the privilege of accompanying her. It told him his attempt to seduce her had denied him of any right he had to call himself her friend. And when he had woken in her bed the morning after, mortified, stale drunk and head throbbing, his first thought had been for Sigrid.

Was she okay? Did she now feel uncomfortable around him? How could he let himself abuse their friendship so? To attempt to take such liberties as though she were a common whore meant to warm his bed for the night. Loki would not soon forgive himself for that, but somehow it seemed Sigrid had.

'Your actions did not offend me' she had said, and then, the most intriguing of all, 'My reasons for stopping you are not for a lack of want'. His inner demons tried to twist her words. To melt them and mould them into an unrecognizable tangle of excuses.

You? They would say. How could she want you? A monster? Even your own father did not want you. The Princess and the Frost Giant? Not a story worth selling.

He would have to shake his head hard to rid them of the thoughts, because Sigrid had said the words. She wanted it. She wanted him. And with this opened a whole other world of questions. Was he attracted to her? Sure. Though no one could fault him for that. Sigrid was beautiful, so it was not exactly a surprise that he found her appealing.

Then there was the way she made him feel; special, safe, loved, seen. His mother was the usual balm for his father's shortcomings. Steady, strong, and always there to catch him when he fell. But she was just that, his mother. She had to be there for him. And Sigrid? Sigrid chose to.

There had been an unspoken tension between them for as long as he could recall, and on a normal day Loki ignored it with all his being. In light of recent events, it was getting much more tedious to do so. Every touch, every glance, every night he had held her in his arms—the comments and suggestions from those around him— all flooded his head in a nauseating way. It was frustrating beyond belief to have to question the basis of a friendship that had stood the test of centuries, and Loki full and well blamed Leif for the inconvenience.

It was all the man's fault. If he had stayed his Sigrid-simpering behind on Vanaheim then Loki would have remained none the wiser about their past affair. He would have asked her to go with him to Alfheim like he was planning to do before he happened upon that fateful conversation in the doorway. Maybe he would have stayed a few extra days to show her around, and in doing so miss the traveling Jotuns that took a chance on attacking the princes of Asgard.

A nuisance in all forms, that Leif.

"Now who needs a portrait?" Sigrid's voice broke him out of his reverie. He blinked twice, noting that he had zoned out whilst looking upon her sleeping face. She gave him his favorite smile, stretching her arms as high above her head as the carriage would allow. Behind them was a similar one that held Ingrid and Magne. Loki had raised an eyebrow upon seeing the young guard that morning, to which Sigrid replied that she'd explain later. "How long have I been asleep."

"An hour or so. We're nearly there, I believe." He nodded out the window, where the Vanir palace was visible across the large lake. "If you'd like to stop for a moment, I can ask the driver to—"

Sigrid waved him off. "No, don't worry about it. The sooner we get to the palace, the better. I am delighted to be back at home, but my nerves have not settled since papa gave his permission."

Loki went on the defensive. "Are you afraid someone is going to harm you? I assure you I will not let that happen."

"No, it's not that." She leaned into him, back against his side, and brought her hands together on her lap. Her nimble fingers fidgeted with themselves. "Do you think they'll like me? The people?"

Loki almost laughed. Trust her to be nervous about the one thing that was a given. "Your people," he corrected. "And they will love you."

"They're not my people at all, really. That would require me having been there for them and not hiding on Asgard." Her cheeks puffed out then flattened as the air expelled. "What would they want of a princess who brings them dead mothers and cowardice?"

Her words caught Loki well off guard. He had known her helplessness the night of the fire instilled feelings of worthlessness that she had had to work through, but he never thought she felt responsible for it. "Sigrid, you must know that no one blames you for seeking refuge on Asgard. You were a child and doing as your king bid. There is no shame in that."

"I don't think the people will see it that way," she murmured. "And my father shares my fears. Hence this," here, she gestured to the unmarked carriage, "out of date form of transport. It would not bode well for me had anyone spotted me on a horse."

"Look at me." His placed a curled finger under her chin to lift her face, tired of her putting herself down. "Cast whatever doubts you many have far from your mind. It doesn't matter how you left. All that matters is what you do now and believe me when I say you won't have to do much. You're very easy to like, and if that fails, I can always put a snake in the bed of whomsoever goes against you."

The upward curve of her lips displayed the alleviation of her worries. Growing up alongside him and Thor had given her the chance to learn the duties any heir to the throne would have. It had been a stipulation of her stay that she do so, of course. Yet Loki knew Vanaheim and Asgard had differing cultures. Sigrid would have her work cut out for her, and she needed to be in the right frame of mind to do it.

"You know what?" he asked, wanting to keep her mood upbeat. "I think now is the perfect time for me to pass on your present."

"My birthday isn't until the end of the week," said Sigrid, eyes dancing at the mention of a gift.

Loki lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. "I've never been one for rules. Close your eyes." As her eyes closed, Loki waved his hand in the air. The green magic started at the nape of her neck, twirling around on both sides to leave a delicate, golden chain in their wake. It met at the centre of her chest, an inch or two above her neckline, in the shape of an oval locket. "Open your eyes."

Loki watched as she felt the locket around her neck. She grasped it with her fingers, timid at first, then lifted it off her neck for inspection. The front of the locket was a polished, jade stone in the shape of an oval. It held golden carvings of flowers with four, wide petals a piece. He had designed most of it himself, so his heart soared with glee when she said, "Loki, I love it. Thank you so much."

"You're very welcome." The gold of the chain and green effects of the stone suited her well. Plus, he got a little sense of satisfaction over seeing her wearing his colour. "There's something else too." He leaned forward to take the necklace in his fingers. "An enchantment I've been working on for a while. If ever you need me, just hold the locket, and say my name. I'll know to come to you."

"That's a neat trick," Sigrid agreed. "Although, I cannot think of a situation where I'll need it. You're always with me."

"Well, it was really meant as an apology for what I said to you before I left for Alheim," he admitted. "I made some outlandish claims about our friendship, and I wanted to show you that I apologize, and I regret my words. We're not going to cease being a part of each other's lives just because—Why are you looking at me like that?"

Loki began to panic. Tears were welling in Sigrid's eyes, and he had a feeling they were not borne of joy. "Sig? Did I say something wrong?"

Sigrid raised a hand to her eyes to wipe the tears from them. "You must really think that my return here heralds a shift for us, don't you? Why else would you enchant the necklace so?"

"My intent was not to upset you." Loki hated to see Sigrid cry. His ability to deal with her emotions did not absolve him from the empathy filling in his chest. "I just know you'll have duties here as I have duties in Asgard, which means there will come a time when our separation lasts for longer than we are used too. This way, you can summon me when you need me."

"You're always there when I need you. No enchantment is needed for that." She bent forward until her cheek rested on his chest. Loki let his own cheek fall onto her head, hands sliding around her waist to hold her close. He even allowed his eyes to shut so that he could soak in the tranquil moment between the two. "We're not going to be leaving here together, are we?"

His left eye opened. "Come again?"

Sigrid gazed out of the half- drawn window. Her fingers played with the necklace as she spoke, voice far off in the distance. "It just dawned on me that if things go well, if the people respond to me in favorable way, then there will no longer be a need for me to return to Asgard." She looked up at him with her rounded, innocent eyes. "I'll have to stay."

Silence stretched between the two. It was not until she said the words did Loki realize that they were true. Sigrid's entire reason for coming to Asgard in the first place was to safeguard her life from her countrymen. If they accepted her, and her life was no longer under threat, this would truly be it for her extended stay on Asgard. "Oh."

"Oh? Is that all you have to say?" She tried for a smile and failed. The corners of her mouth were quivering too much. "I might be moving to another realm soon, you know?"

"Perhaps I can stay with you?" The suggestion sounded more like a desperate plea. "On Vanaheim, that is." Sigrid nudged him with her head.

"You're sweet to try to make me feel better, but that's not possible. Asgard needs you—"

"Asgard does not need me." His voice was rough, grated with the finality of a man who had had enough of people telling him what was needed of him. "They have Thor—the rightful heir—and a king and a queen. Let them suffice with that."

Loki felt cool fingers at the base of his throat. Sigrid was running hers over the exposed skin with an almost absent mind. She was, he knew, looking for the right words to say to him. "You understand that your true parentage changes nothing between us? As far as I'm concerned, you are still the same Loki I have known all these years. There has been no lessening of your stature in my eyes."

"So I've gathered." Any frets he held about Sigrid fearing him had been washed way the night in the tub. He even felt a little bad for assuming that she would think of him in a different way, for she had always been more accepting than most. "And I thank you. I also ask for your answer to my humble request."

Sigrid's brows knit. "What request?"

"That you allow me to stay here with you on Vanaheim if you have to stay as well." He ran the back of his finger over her cheek. "Please, darling?"

"I thought you never beg," she teased.

"Ah!" He lifted a finger in the air. "A request is not a beg, my dear Sigrid."

"Sounds very much the same to me." She gave an exaggerated sigh, followed by a showy wave of her hand. "I suppose, if it comes to it, it would not be a travesty to have you nearby."

Loki grinned at her dramatics. "How nice of you to look beyond your annoyances in order to grant my wish."

"That's what princesses do, don't they?" Her head returned to his chest, fingers on his throat once again. He wondered if she could feel how hard his swallows were through his skin. "There is also the little fact that I may have to marry Leif. Do try not to turn this one into a maggot."

Now it was Loki's turn sigh. "I can't believe I'm going to say this," he really could not, considering his dislike for the man, "but I supposed it would not be the worst thing to happen." It was funny how his stomach knotted at his words. He had once told Sigrid that she was the exception to his falsehoods, and while that was true, he had the nagging feeling that he was toeing the line.

"Really?" Sigrid scoffed. "You, who so accidentally referred to him by the wrong name—"

"A simple mistake, really."

"—are now endorsing my possible marriage to him? My, my. What has the realm come too?"

"I am not endorsing anything," he reached out to tug her hair for jesting him so. "If the laws of Vanaheim state that you must marry another Vanir, then I would much prefer it be Leif than some other dull fool that I have no knowledge of. At least I know what Leif is about." Sigrid tilted her head in confusion. "You, my darling. He is all about you."

"Oh." Red blossomed on her cheeks. "Well, I suppose…". She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Tell me; would you truly be okay watching me marry another man—any man, for that matter?"

Loki swallowed thickly. "If the laws—"

"Forget the laws, I'm asking you. Would you seriously be able to stand in a crowd and watch me wed someone else? To know that that man would come first in my life and have me and—"

"You are taking me for a ride," he accused, eyes narrowing at her, "and rather well, too. I've been rubbing off on you."

"Can't be friends with the God of Mischief without picking up a few of his habits." She looked up at him from under her lashes. "I did not mean to upset you. You're just very easy to rile up when it comes to me."

"A fact I've been made aware of on multiple occasions." The grass below gave way to smooth stones, signaling civilization was near. "I've tried not to think about you having to marry someone else even though I knew that day would come. Now that it is approaching, I supposed the idea of having to share your attention will be quite an…adjustment on my part."

"Why?" She wanted to know.

His forehead creased. "Why what?"

"Why will it be an adjustment?" Loki felt his mouth dry. "I mean, it sounds like it bothers you, and I can't help but wonder why."

"I could ask you the same thing," Loki replied. When in doubt, turn the tables around. "You seem awfully stuck on how I view your prospective marriage when the only opinion that should matter is yours. Why is that?"

Sigrid blinked in astonishment. She knew well how he could flip a conversation on its head at the drop of a hat. Until today, she had not been on the receiving end of it, and he could tell by her face that she did not appreciate it. "I just wanted to know…"

"But why?" he crooned, enjoying making her sweat as she had done to him not a minute ago. "We are just friends, are we not?" Even as he asked the question in nonchalance, he awaited her response in eager. Maybe her answer could commence the sorting out of this dance they had been doing for so long now.

"Yes, well… we are friends."

"Only?" All off a sudden, Sigrid could no longer seem to hold his gaze. She looked down, biting her lip hard. Loki removed the vanilla flavored fold of skin from between her teeth with the pad of his thumb. It remained there as he asked again, "Are we only just friends?"

"I…" Sigrid breathed out, and he could feel her hot breath on his thumb. He was so close, in fact, that he felt it on the bottom of his chin. "I think the carriage has stopped."

"The driver won't come in here without our permission." He let his thumb drag across her lower lip, reveling in the soft moan that escaped her. His mouth twisted up in a smirk. "Is something the matter?"

"You're teasing me," she whispered.

"Am I?" He let his forehead meet hers, straight nose bumping against her own round one. "Am I teasing? Or am I just asking the question that has been on everyone's mind for centuries?"

"People love to talk. This is not news."

"All talk comes from somewhere." Loki cupped the back of her head, letting his fingers tangle in the hair. "Perhaps we should start asking ourselves why they talk in the first place."

"Loki…" They were so close now. He could feel the phantom movements of her lips against his. An electricity built between them, tethered to either of their lips at the ends. Static attacked his mouth and ate all the way up to his temples- an angry, deafening force that begged him to press his mouth to hers.

So he tilted her chin up, and she did not stop him. His head descended slowly, eyes holding her gaze to look for any sign that she did not wish to continue. Her breath was coming in pants, not reaching that far as they spilled from her lips and were stopped at once by his.

His mouth formed her name, and her own his. He slanted his head to the side, lips just brushing hers—

"Hey!" They sprang apart. "Are you guys planning to come out anytime soon? We've been here for, like, two whole minutes now."

Loki met the eyes of the younger girl with fury. Ingrid had her whole head stuck into their window. "Child!" His voice was a half shout. "Hasn't anyone told you it's rude to stick your head into another's carriage?" Ingrid made a face.

"No? We don't use these on Asgard. Why would anyone…". The girl broke off mid-sentence. Her eyes trailed from Loki's stiff posture to the princess, who was now on the opposite end of the seat. Sigrid's entire face was flushed with the halted action of what should have been a very pleasing activity. "Dear me," Ingrid placed a hand to her chest in mock innocence. In just that one gesture, Loki knew she had happened upon her revenge for the toad incident. "Have I interrupted something?"

"That's a very well-defined bruise on your throat," Loki rebutted. "I don't remember it being there when we left Asgard."

Ingrid adjusted her long hair to cover the purpling mark. "Now, now, Prince Loki. Don't be cross with me for your own lack of time management. You had an entire carriage ride to bestow one of these on the princess—"

"Ingrid!" Sigrid, it seemed, had been snapped back to the present by the suggestive words. She reached one hand out of the carriage to open the door, and Ingrid jumped away from it with haste. "You fast girl! Come back here!"

Before he could stop her, Sigrid was out of the carriage and chasing behind her handmaiden, leaving Loki to wonder just what the Hel Vanaheim had in store for the both of them.