Sorry, for the late update. I just finished up with my finals.
Please read, review and enjoy!
Flannfluga
Sigyn Nomansdottir spends far too much time with Loki. At least, that is what Sif thinks.
The peasant woman is always coming around the Warriors' Arena with him despite her vow to never return after their duel. Sif even sees her on the street with him, laughing and talking as though she hasn't a care in the world.
A prince should not be consorting with a woman of her stature. It's scandalous, really. The Lady Magnhildr agrees with her, much to Sif's relief.
"That girl is a gold digger, just like her mother," Magnhildr asserts as she, Haldana, and Sif share lunch in the picturesque courtyard on her husband's estate on a sunny afternoon.
The Lord Andor's estate is not quite as grand as the manor in which Sif lives with her father, the Lord Trygve, but it is still impressive. It is no more than two blocks away from the palace, and it shines with about half as much gold.
"Mother, please," Haldana objects.
Magnhildr shrugs. "I am merely being truthful."
Sif nods while Haldana grumbles, "No, you are not," into her teacup.
Magnhildr is a distinguished lady, highborn, and in Sif's opinion, the ideal family matriarch. She is no longer as beautiful as she was in her youth, though she has remained pretty in her midlife, having none of the crow's feet typical of women her age. She regards her daughter with patience. "How would you explain it, then?"
"I don't know, Mother," Haldana says, setting down her tea. "Perhaps she wants him to teach her how to use her magic, which he offered to do, completely unprompted."
Sif snorts, "I find that hard to believe."
Haldana sighs, "Come now—"
"Love, do you not understand," Magnhildr asks, reaching over to stroke her daughter's cheek. "She is trying to take from you what is yours."
Grimacing, Haldana pinches the bridge of her nose. "For the last time, I am not going to marry Loki."
"Why not," her mother inquires, tone patient as ever.
"You know why," she grunts, eyes growing glassy.
The corner of Sif's mouth turns down in sympathy. Haldana has been dating Aerick for a little over a century now. When he had first begun courting her, she had brought up the issue with her parents, but they had vetoed the match. Since then, their relationship has been a secret to which only their close friends have been privy. Sif cannot help but be annoyed that Haldana's half-sister is now in the loop thanks to Loki.
"Enough with this," Magnhildr snaps, patience finally giving way. "You will not marry down. That is final."
Haldana falls silent, swallowing thickly.
"Besides," her mother goes on. "A good match is not the only thing that woman is trying to steal from you. Just the other day, she came to your father with an offer to buy that house she rents from him."
Confused at the correlation, Sif raises an eyebrow.
Haldana rolls her eyes, "What on Asgard does that have to do with me?"
"You will own that house one day, dear," Magnhildr tells her.
"Ah, yes," Haldana grumbles. "A house in which I will never live and from which I do not need the revenue."
"Oh, enough," Magnhildr scolds. Raising a hand, she calls to one of the servants, "Gyda, clear my place." As the serving girl steps forward to do as instructed, Magnhildr rises and steps around the table. She kisses her daughter on the head. "You girls stay as long as you like."
Once her mother has gone back into the house, the meager smile with which Haldana had graced her turns into a sneer. "I can understand why Sigyn hates her so much."
"Don't say that," Sif chides. "She is your mother."
Not for the first time today, Haldana sighs. "Mothers can be difficult sometimes."
Sif, a woman whose mother died the day she was born, looks away. "I wouldn't know."
Later in the day, Sif sees Loki sitting in a posh bistro down the road from the palace. He is dressed more casually than usual, though he still looks regal with his green attire. Her mouth opens to impart a greeting, but she clamps it shut when the person he is with becomes visible.
"Okay," Sigyn giggles, flipping her ever-lengthening hair over her shoulder. "I have one."
Loki waves a hand, grinning. "Please."
On impulse, Sif ducks behind a post to avoid being spotted. She pokes her head out just enough so that she can see the two of them.
Putting on a straight face, Sigyn says, "Are those space pants? Because—"
"Your ass is out of this realm," he finishes.
"Damn it," she shrieks. A table over, an older woman turns around in her seat to shoot Sigyn a glare—rightfully so, thinks Sif. Shamefaced, Sigyn sends her an apologetic smile while Loki snickers at her. "Hush, you," she says, pointing her fork at him. "It's your turn."
Tapping his chin, he takes a moment to think.
"Or you could admit defeat," Sigyn suggests, shrugging as though she does not care either way.
"No," he declines, smirking. "Alright, here we go. Do you believe in love at first sight, or—"
Sigyn interrupts, "Should I walk by again?"
Loki groans, shaking his head. "Perhaps we should both give up. Neither one of us is going to win."
"No," Sigyn insists. "I have one I am certain you have never before heard."
"Very well," he concedes. "Let's hear it."
They are so obviously together, Sif thinks, narrowing her eyes. How disgraceful.
Sigyn smiles, evidently certain of her victory. "My love for you is like a candle."
A beat passes in which Loki appears to be in deep contemplation, and then he asks, "Why?"
"If you forget about me, I will burn your fucking house down," she gushes, pumping her fist in celebration. "I win!"
"That is not a pick-up line," he protests, shaking his head. "That is a threat."
She shakes her head. "It counts."
"No, it does not," he argues.
"Wow. You are such a sore loser," Sigyn taunts, head tilting to one side.
An indignant, shocked noise gets caught in Loki's throat. "I could have you beheaded for that."
As with all of the God of Mischief's jokes, his jest strikes a cord of uneasiness in Sif. She is never quite sure that he does not mean that which he says. Although, she cannot say she cares about what happens to Haldana's sister.
Sigyn snorts in disbelief, either unafraid or simply unwise, and a swell of resentment for her surges through Sif. "As much fun as that would be, I must be on my way."
"Ah," he smiles. "Another time then."
She nods, standing from her chair. "I look forward to it."
She fishes through the coin purse at her waist, as though to pay for her meal, but Loki waves her off. "Worry not. I have it."
Looking up from her purse, hand frozen mid-dig, she asks, "Are you sure?"
"I think I can afford it," he assures her.
"Alright," Sigyn croons, tightening the thong around the opening of her purse, "But don't come crying to me when you cannot pay your bills."
They both laugh and say their farewells. Sif leans farther back into the post when Sigyn passes her, expelling a relieved breath as she goes unnoticed. She watches the other woman head down the street for a few seconds before looking back at Loki. Sif does not like what she sees.
Loki is staring straight at her, a placid smile on his face. He gives a little wave.
He probably knew I was here the entire time, she thinks, apprehension flaring through her. Without sparing another moment, she turns and darts after Sigyn, in part so she can confront the woman, but mostly so that she can escape Loki.
She tails Sigyn for several minutes, following her down side streets and through alleyways. She maintains a safe distance so as to not be spotted. At last, Sigyn stops at a one-story dwelling and knocks at the door. Sif lurks in an entryway across the road, just out of earshot.
Another woman opens the door, smiling as she greets Sigyn. She has dark skin and long hair held back in a thick ponytail. Sif cannot tell much else from this distance, but given how close they stand to one another, it is clear that they are good friends.
She changes her mind when she sees them kiss.
Holy shit, her mind screams.
The women exchange a few words and kiss again. The darker woman then heads down the street, and Sigyn enters the house, closing the door behind her.
Once the unfamiliar woman is far enough away, Sif scampers over to the front door of the wooden abode and knocks until Sigyn opens the door.
"Did you forget something, ba—Oh, fuck," Sigyn says, staring up at her in a mix of shock and fear.
"Are you a flannfluga," Sif blurts out, unable to help herself.
Sigyn's breathing turns shallow, and she almost looks as though she is going to faint. Suddenly, her hands snaps out, coming to grip Sif's wrist. "I know you hate me, but you mustn't tell anyone," she pleads, eyes wide and imploring. "It would ruin not just my own life," she goes on, "but m-my girlfriend's life, as well."
No, this doesn't make sense. "Wait, so," Sif starts, prying her arm away. "You're not trying to seduce Loki?"
Sigyn freezes in the midst of wringing her hands in front of her. "I—What?"
Sif tries to justify her question, shrugging. "You spend so much time with him."
"We're friends," Sigyn attests, brow furrowing.
The two women fall silent after that. Sigyn starts biting her lip, whereas Sif keeps her expression as neutral as possible.
"Listen," Sigyn sighs. "I know that you hold the Lady Magnhildr in high regard, but she is paranoid when it comes to me. She believes I'm trying to screw over her daughter, so much so that she imagines ridiculous things."
Unbidden, Sif finds herself nodding. "She did mention your house."
"What," Sigyn asks, momentarily distracted. "Did she say why my father would not sell?"
She did, Sif thinks, but it seems cruel to tell Sigyn considering Magnhildr was wrong about the woman's relationship with Loki. It is clear now that Sigyn truly has no interest in hurting Haldana.
"No," Sif lies. "She did not."
Sigyn's shoulders droop in disappointment. "Oh."
Another lapse in conversation ensues, both women having ducked their heads to reflect on the situation. Sigyn's grip on the door tightens, the wood creaking under her hold.
Voice low, Sif discloses, "I won't tell anyone."
When Sigyn looks up, her eyes are glassy. Sif is reluctantly reminded of Haldana's crestfallen expression from earlier in the day. "Thank you," she whispers.
Not a week has passed before Sif once more finds herself dining in Andor's household.
She, Haldana, Magnhildr, and Andor engage in small talk in a beautifully decorated sitting room while the servants prepare their meal. The girls tell Haldana's parents about their most recent crusade, a battle with a terrible demon that had escaped from Muspelheim. Magnhildr has never been very fond of these kinds of stories, and she wrinkles her nose at every gruesome detail recounted.
As a girl, Haldana had been captivated by the idea of being a warrior of Asgard. Her mother had been in staunch opposition to the mere notion of Haldana growing up to be anything other than a refined lady. It was only when Sif had begun training with Trygve that Magnhildr had permitted Haldana to learn how to fight.
Before long, Gyda announces that the appetizers are ready. The four nobles take their seats in the expansive, gilded dining room. Once everyone is settled, Magnhildr cheerfully asks if anyone would like to make a toast.
Sif reaches for her glass, but Gyda beats her to the punch, saying, "I would," and holding up her own cup.
Taken aback, everyone turns to regard the serving girl as glowing pink magic travels up her body, leaving Sigyn in her wake. She wears her customary knee-length, cobalt blue dress and soldier boots.
Alarmed, Sif grabs the utensil closest to her, a soup spoon, and takes a defensive position.
"What is the meaning of this," Andor roars. He is usually a calm, gentle man, and his demeanor conveys as much. His eyes crinkle with years of laughter, and his blonde hair has grown gray over the centuries. Now, though, he looks uncharacteristically malicious.
The devious smile on his eldest child's face merely grows at the commotion, and the glass in her hand vanishes into thin air. "I've never been in this room before," she comments, as though unbothered by their reactions. "Of course, I've never made it past the foyer."
Haldana shakes her head good-naturedly. "What are you doing here, Sigyn?"
Pointing at her, Sigyn exclaims, "I am glad you asked, dear sister. You see," she turns to Andor and Magnhildr, "a very intriguing secret has recently been brought to my attention."
Oh, no, Sif thinks, eyes darting to Haldana as the younger woman chokes on an anxious breath.
"It may interest you to know," Sigyn goes on, "that Haldana here is in a clandestine relationship with one Lord Aerick."
Sif snarls in outrage at the traitorous snake. "How dare you!"
In contrast, Magnhildr grows very quiet. "What," she asks, turning to her daughter.
"Mother, listen, I—Sigyn, what the fuck—I did not mean for this to happen," Haldana defends, flustered and frantic.
"And," Sigyn continues, utterly calm, "if I may divulge a secret about myself, I am a flannfluga."
At a complete loss, Sif realizes that she has no idea what Sigyn's gambit is.
"What," Magnhildr repeats, momentarily deterred from berating her daughter.
"Flannfluga," Sigyn repeats, as though explaining something to a small child. "'She who flees the male sex organ?' It is a weird phrase, I grant you, but you get it."
Thoroughly distracted now, Magnhildr narrows her eyes at her husband's bastard. "Why would you tell us this?"
Sigyn winces spuriously, looking entirely pleased with herself. "Because if this got out, it might sully your family's reputation."
"You're blackmailing us," Andor deadpans.
She points at her father but keeps her eyes fixed on the lady of the house. "Precisely. If you do not permit Haldana and the Lord Aerick to be together, I am going to share the news about my sexuality with everyone in Asgard."
Shock washes over the other occupants of the room, and Sif feels some of her anxiety dislodge from inside her chest.
Magnhildr scoffs. "What makes you think we'll care?"
Sigyn raises her brow. "I will strongly imply—blatantly state, really—that I get it from my father, who has been embroiled in many a same-sex affair."
Magnhildr gives a scandalized gasp, while Andor barks out a disbelieving laugh, indignant. "You would dishonor yourself with lies," he asks.
"Honor is expensive," she calmly rebuts, stalking towards him. "And much like my own house, I cannot afford it."
"Is that what you want," he asks, tone imploring. "Because we can revisit—"
"No," she interjects, slapping the mahogany table in time with her words. "Pay attention. I want what I asked for, so make it happen." She turns then, striding out of the room. "You have three days," she calls, holding up just as many fingers.
Two days later, Haldana and Aerick announce their engagement.