Chapter 11

It was Loki who saved Ingrid's behind in the end. He strode up to Sigrid while she was attempting to grab the redhead hiding behind the horse and took hold of her elbow.

"Let her be," he said, the promise of dealing with her later reflected in his eyes. He used his seidr to fix Sigrid's wild, escaping hair and untied cloak. It washed over her like a cold bath, reminding her of where she was and what she was about to do.

"My father." Her eyes widened in dismay. She peeked around Loki's towering form to peer at the rest of the stone structure that held the carriages. "Is he here? Have you seen him?"

"No," he tilted his head in the direction of a guard. He was an older man with a weathered face set into his metal helmet. "This guard here has been ordered to lead us through the barracks and up to your father so you shall not be seen. We were just waiting for you to complete your chase."

Sigrid turned to the older man. An apologetic smiled was already at her lips. "I do apologize for the wait. My lady and I were having a bit of a… disagreement of sorts." She could see Loki covering his mouth out of the corner of her eye.

The guard in front of her watched her with something akin to understanding. A spark of fondness lit up his older eyes. "All is well, princess. And can I just say; quite a lot of us have been awaiting your return with bated breath. We are glad that you have made it here safely."

The guard led them down a darkened corridor and up a suspicious looking flight of stone stairs. A lone, wooden door sat atop the final step. It opened into a well-lit room that yanked a gasp from Sigrid's lips as soon as she stepped foot in it.

"Sig?" She did not answer Loki's worried call. Instead, she focused on the room she was standing in. Though the memories had faded, she knew she was in the reading room that she had spent countless hours in as a child. Her mother had it designed when she was very young, and itserved as her refuge from the harsh words of persons who refused to accept her Midgardian ties.

"Thank you," she addressed the guard. "I'm afraid I did not catch your name."

"Reidar, your highness." The man gave a low bow. "The king will be with you shortly. I've already sent a page to notify him of your arrival. There will be guards right outside your door if you need anything." Another bow followed his words, then he was gone.

"Darling, are you okay? You look as though you've seen a ghost." Loki murmured once the doors at the entrance of the room had closed. His voice was right at her ear. Flashes of their moment in the carriage came rushing back to her. His thumb on her lips. The shiver it drew from her body. How close they had come to—

"My mother designed this room," she announced in a louder than necessary voice. Talking. She needed to divert her efforts to talking lest she go down the rabbit hole that was her and Loki's relationship. "When I was a child, she was afraid the other children would be mean to me if they caught me alone. I so loved reading, but Mama did not have the heart to ban anyone from the royal library. She thought that would bring unnecessary hatred on to me, so she made me my own little place."

"It's beautiful," Loki complimented. "Your mother was a woman of good taste."

"Hmm." Sigrid walked along the far wall, which was covered in bookshelves from ceiling to floor, and ran her fingers over some of the books. Every year her mother would fill it with stories she had loved herself and wished for daughter to read. Most of them were Midgardian, and she recognized some of the titles; particularly a worn copy of Little Women.

Sigrid slid the book out of its crevice and turned it to the titular page. There, written in an almost illegible script, were the only tangible words she had left of her mother:

To my Little Woman on her 12th birthday, for I believe every young girl should know this story.

All my love,

Mama

A tear fell from her eye. It was brushed away by Loki's thumb. "Your moods are giving me whiplash today, Sig."

"Sorry," she hugged the book to her chest, not wanting to show Loki the note just yet. The only two people that knew about it were her and her mother, and she liked the fact that they still kept this secret in death. "My mother would have loved you, you know?"

Loki quirked a brow. "Is that so? In that case, let me amend my earlier statement. She had impeccable taste."

"I'm serious," Sigrid nudged him. "She had a soft spot for people who found their way around rules. Why do you think she fell for my father in the first place?"

"Is that your subtle way of calling me a troublemaker, dear daughter?" The orotund voice had Sigrid turning on her heel. "Not a day back and you're already telling tales about me."

"Papa!" Sigrid squealed in delight. She passed the book in her hands off to Loki and stepped forward into her father's embrace. King Ivan was a tall, heavy-set man with auburn hair and the lightest blue eyes. Of those traits, Sigrid had inherited none. It was only the shape of her nose and arches of her cheekbones that spoke of the resemblance between the two. "I've missed you so!"

"I can promise you I've missed you more. Now let me see you. It's been months!" He pulled back and let his eyes trail over her. A wide smile broke out on his face. When he spoke, the pride in his voice almost brought her to tears. "You look more and more like your mother every time I see you. Had she been here, she would be so relieved that you took looks after her."

"Yes." A memory from what seemed like a lifetime ago popped into her head. "Mama did always say she was glad I had her hair colour. She thought auburn hair clashed with everything."

"She would be right," murmured Loki, voice tinged with regret. Sigrid knew that he was thinking of a particular love affair from his past that had ended in such a disaster it ruined any attraction he had to red-hair and all the hues in between. "Your majesty. Thank you for accommodating me on such short notice."

"Loki, my boy!" Ivan walked over to Loki and clapped a jolly hand over his cheek. She saw Loki wince. For a moment, his eyes took on the pained expression it had the night his father struck him. Just as she was about to step in, her father pulled him into a hug. Sigrid relaxed when she saw the tension go out of Loki's form. "Away with the pleasantries. I've known you since you were just a slight thing hiding in dark hallways. Now look at you!" He pulled back to pat Loki on the shoulder. "All grown up. I bet all the ladies at court are falling over themselves to get your attention."

"Not one has been able to keep it, I'm afraid," Loki said, a warm smile on his face. Sigrid sent a silent prayer to the heavens that her father was so fond of him. She truly did believe that the time away from Asgard would do him some good.

Her father gave a mighty laugh. "Come now, son! I'm sure there is one that has caught your eye. There is always that one, after which there is no other."

Loki's eyes strayed towards Sigrid. He smirked—not the usual mischievous one, but one of amusement— and nodded slowly. "Yes. I suppose so." Sigrid blushed crimson. "I'll take your leave now. I'm sure you two have much to talk about."

"Yes, yes." The king gestured to a guard. "The guards will lead you to your room. You'll join us for supper, of course? My council members are eager to meet Asgard's newest ambassador."

Loki bowed his head in respect. "I would be honored. Your majesty, d-Sigrid." Sigrid was not certain if her father had noticed Loki's slip. He must not have, she decided, since he led her over to the cushioned seat by the stained-glass window and beckoned her to sit next to him.

"How was the journey," he questioned. "Were the carriages to your liking? We don't use them that much, but I always keep a few of the larger ones on hand."

"They were fine, papa," Sigrid patted his hand. "I'm just so glad to be here. I was starting to think I'd never return." Her father brought a thick hand to rest on her head. His face was a solemn as she had ever seen it.

"You have suffered much in your life, in ways that I often blame myself for—" Here, Sigrid tried to interject, but he waved her off. "A disservice has been done to you through no fault of your own. It is unfair that you have had to spend your entire life so far away from me; so far away from your home."

"It wasn't all bad," Sigrid murmured. "Asgard has been wonderful to me. King Odin and Queen Frigga treat me like a daughter and I've so many people that love me." She squeezed her father's hand in earnest. "Papa, you know my life has not been bad. Please do not be so harsh on yourself."

The corner of the king's mouth lifted into a melancholy smile. "You are so much like your mother. She, too, knew how to make the best of a terrible situation. I just know her soul rests in peace knowing that you have everything she ever wanted for you."

"Yes," Sigrid nodded. "Mama would be pleased that I am back here. She always wanted to see me rule."

Her father gave her an odd look. "No, my dear. She would be glad that you are getting back in the game but that's not what I am referring to."

"No?" Sigrid cocked her head to the side. "Then what?"

"Daughter, you are happy," he said, cupping her face. "All your mother ever wanted for you was happiness."

"Oh," she breathed, then harder, "oh." Her lip trembled, tears welling in her eyes once again. There had always been an ache in her chest whenever she thought of her mother. It was once a permanent fixture that time and Asgard had helped dissipate into transience. Now, sitting in the same seat where her mother would hold her for hours on end with whatever book they had decided on, that ache turned into a hole powerful enough to cave in her entire being.

"I know." Her father pulled her into his shoulder. "There is not a moment that goes by where I do not miss her. It pains me every day that our grief could not be shared."

"I, as well." Sigrid wiped her tears along the sleeves of her father's tunic. It had already been ruined by her crying so she figured it would not matter. "I'm so glad you've preserved this room. I was afraid you'd convert it."

"Never," Ivan shook his head. "This room was so important to you and your mother. I always had hope that you would come back to me, and so I've kept it for that reason. No one is allowed in here except for the maids who clean it."

"The door is new." Sigrid pointed to the wooden door she and Loki had come through. "Why does it lead to below?"

"I had an entire system built below that leads to a way out. There are doors like this throughout the palace, and they all lead to the tunnels below. I figured with your return it was better to be safe than sorry."

"Where do they go?"

"Out to the forest," her father replied. "Odin knows as well, as does Heimdall, Reidar and now, you. If anything were to happen, one would just have to follow them out to the clearing. There, you can yell for Heimdall. He watches it often."

Sigrid wiped a hand over her eyes. "It's a very good idea. One, though, that you should not have had to think of in the first place." Her father hummed.

"You are right. Had it not been for your mother I never would have come up with it. I do hope you never have to use it, but if you do, I humbly request you go straight to Asgard. At least I know they will keep you safe there."

"I am always safe there," she assured him. "Everyone treats me well. At first, I used to be so jealous of Loki and Thor for having a mother when I had none. Frigga was always kind to me, but it took me awhile to let her love me. I was afraid— I did not want anyone to think I was replacing mama."

Ivan pat her head. "Sigrid, your mother only met Frigga once at our wedding but trust and believe that she would not be offended by your liking her. Lilibet would have wanted you to be taken in by people who you could trust. She would have wanted you to be loved." He paused then, a slight sarcasm entering his voice. "I suppose she also would have wanted grandchildren, someday—"

"That's another thing!" Sigrid pulled out of her father's embrace to fix him with a stern look. "Why would you send Leif to court me without letting me know beforehand? And what are these laws that I've been hearing about? I thought we were all well and done with these arcane ways." Ivan winced.

"In retrospect, it was not my best decision." At least her father had the decency to look ashamed. "I've been in talks with my advisors as to what would be the path of least resistance to your queendom. You have to understand that your time away from Vanaheim has made some people believe that you do not know the realm well enough to rule—"

"That is not true!" Sigrid protested hotly. "I've studied all of Vanaheim's history, laws and customs and I did it in conjunction with learning Asgard's—which was much harder than what Loki had to do even though he says different. Every syllabus you ever brought me was covered in full."

"I know that," her father attempted to placate her. "I've no doubt you will make an excellent queen. As king, I would never give the throne to someone who could not handle it."

"Then what's the issue?" Ivan sighed long and hard.

"The issue is that learning about a place and actually living there are two different experiences entirely. It is a resounding concern that your time on Asgard has made you more their citizen than ours, and they wonder if you'll be able to rule a place you've only spent fourteen years in."

Sigrid folded her arms and stared out the window. A pattern of lilies-her mother's favourite- stared back at her. "So, I left Vanaheim for my own safety, and now the very thing that might have kept me alive is now preventing me from becoming queen? How wonderful."

"Do not fret, daughter. This is why you are here." Sigrid turned her eyes on him. "To establish you as the rightful heir."

"I am the only heir," Sigrid reminded him. "Had it not been for my colouring and Midgardian ties, no one would be questioning me."

"Right," her father agreed, though his eyes were downcast. "There is also someone I'd like to introduce you too. I think you would get along well, and she will be an immense help to you in navigating the Vanir court."

"Is it your new advisor by chance?" Sigrid perked up a bit. "I'm so glad you've added a woman to your council. One would argue that more should be added, but I supposed baby steps can also be rewarded."

"How do you know that?" he wanted to know. "I don't think I mentioned her on my last visit."

"I met her daughter, Lady Eva, at court." Sigrid rolled her eyes. Her last encounter with the blonde still left a sour taste in her mouth.

"You've met Eva?" It could have been her imagination, the way her father began acting shifty at that moment. "When?"

"Two weeks ago or so. She's trouble, that one. Caused a fight between me and Loki, too. I do hope her mother is not like that."

"Yes, well, Eva has been known to act up from time to time," her father said. Though he sounded disinterested, there was an unreadable expression on his face. "Her mother is much calmer. I've known her for quite some time. She volunteered all on her own to give any aid you may need."

Sigrid bit her lip. She was touched by the kind gesture from the unknown woman. "That's… very nice of her. I look forward to meeting her." Her father's mood visibly brightened. "About that marriage, though…"

"We will come to that if and when necessary," assured the king, "but I must know one thing. How serious are you about becoming queen?"

"Very." Sigrid puffed out her chest. "You know this, father. It is my place as the heir."

"Then you also know that sometimes, we as rulers have to make decisions that would better our realm. One of those may be a marriage that is not favoured." Her father gave her a pointed look.

Sigrid groaned. "Papa…"

"I thought you liked Leif? It's why I thought you would not mind."

"Yes, as a child," she stressed. "Even now I enjoy his company as a friend, but—"

"But you do not love him." Sigrid shook her head from side to side. She felt as though she were disappointing her father by objecting to the marriage. "Who do you love, then?" Unbidden, her mind brought up images of raven hair and green leather. Elegant hands with spaces between their fingers that provided the perfect fit for her own. Strong shoulders that always supported her head during a cry. Ample lips that made a home on her forehead. "Sigrid?"

"Hmm?" She pinched herself hard on the thigh. Now was not the time to get lost in such thoughts. "There have been no new men in my life for quite some time now, I'm afraid."

Her father's lips twitched. "I wonder why that is."

"I haven't found anyone interesting enough, I guess." She gave a shrug. "Not that it matters. Part of me has always known that I may not ever marry for love. The other part—the one that has always wanted what you and mama had— is urging me to fight this law."

"And will you?"

Sigrid brought her hands together on her lap. She thought first of her father; of the adversity he had faced since marrying her mother and how her death had broken her family. What was supposed to be three of them against the world turned into two of them worlds apart, and it would just break her heart if she had to go any more centuries living so far from him.

And then there was Loki.

Her blessing initially disguised as a gangly boy with a chip his shoulder who soon became part of her entire being. So much of the person she had grown into could be owed to Loki. He was in every part of her life, and Sigrid would not have it any other way. Could she, then, marry another and risk losing such an important part of her? Would she be able to live with the consequences?

Marrying Leif meant a secured future as queen, which she wanted, but it meant giving up a lot of her habits with Loki, which she did not want. She would have her father and her rule and a husband but the thought of Loki's arm not being the one she clung to, the thought of his voice not being the last on she heard at night, filled her chest with a burn that was almost too much to bear.

"You must make a decision, daughter," said her father, "and you must not make it lightly. Being queen will be a hard job. I'm sure Frigga has told you that. The thing is, it's truly up to you. You are the rightful heir and you deserve that throne. The question is: how hard are you willing to fight for it?"

"I will oppose the marriage for now," she told him, "for I truly do not think it fair for me to have to marry someone when a man would not be required to do the same. However…" she took a deep breath, closing her eyes tight. As she did so, she forced all thoughts of Loki from her mind. All the hugs, and the hand holding, the horse rides and the laughs they had shared. She pushed it all away for the moment being.

"If all else fails, and I must marry someone to be queen," she continued, "then I will do so without question."

Her father pat her knee. "That's my girl. Now, let me tell you about…". Her father droned on about the dinner that evening, while Sigrid zoned out. She let her eyes stray to the window as she gave an automatic nod here and there to make it seem as though she were listening.

Rain had begun to fall, beating down of the glass window with a vengeance. It was too sturdy to break, too thick for her to hear the rain well. Her mother had made it so there would be little disturbance to her as she read. She could, however, see the fat droplets as they appeared on the outside of the window.

And when the one atop the focal lily slid down, akin to a tear on a face, it took all Sigrid had not to weep along with it.