Had someone asked about the origins of their bond, each would have answered with a different moment when they thought it had started. In fact, it would have been rather impossible to pinpoint the very beginning of something in the making for so many years, something that the two people involved, in hindsight, had always seen coming, even though everyone else —with the sole exception of one person, perhaps— would have never in a thousand years guessed that a pair who quarreled as often as they did, who disagreed with each other as fervently as they did, could ever become romantically involved.
Sigyn never knew her father. Iwaldi was part of Odin's Guard, a fierce servant of Asgard and an extraordinary fighter— that was, at least, what her mother, Dagmar, had told her for all Sigyn knew for certain about him was that he had perished before Dagmar had even born her. He had met his wife at the Royal Palace of Valaskjalf, having been assigned to escort her to the Queen when she was sent from her home in Vanaheim to become her lady-in-waiting. Their daughter was born and raised in the same palace in which they had met and married. During the first years of her life, of which she remembered very little, Sigyn lived with her mother until an invasion of marauders struck Vanaheim just as Dagmar was there visiting relatives and the court lady was killed while she tried to defend her home.
After having learned that the only kin left alive that could take in the orphaned girl was an aunt barely old enough to become a mother herself, Frigga insisted that she remained in Asgard, where Sigyn was brought up by the court ladies that, while not related to her mother by blood, had somewhat become her family in bond in all the years they had coexisted while serving the Queen.
While thoroughly and actively grateful for Frigga's favor, being much aware of how blessed her childhood had been in spite of two specific moments of tragedy, Sigyn never considered herself a warden or a foster child of any kind. She had a privileged closeness to the Royal Family, so much was true, and she had indeed been brought up with luxuries and advantages that no ordinary subject of Asgard would normally receive; however, in terms of family, as the women who had helped raise her either retired or passed away from old age, Sigyn believed —though not melancholically— that she had none.
Many considered that having been raised in the midst of the Asgardian princes must have been an honor— to that, Sigyn usually replied that if they could have as much as a glance into her experience, they would not be as quick to congratulate her on that particular distinction.
Despite being considerably younger than the two boys, she had naturally fit into the role of peace-keeper, not because she had a calm demeanor or a talent for deescalating fights, but rather the opposite: if Thor and Loki were arguing over whose turn it was to wield a particular weapon during training, it was Sigyn who stepped in and snatched the weapon away from them so that neither could have it at all; if there was but one serving of ale left by the end of a banquet, which usually led to the two sons of Odin boastfully listing reasons why it was them who deserved it and not the other, Sigyn would drink the last serving herself.
Outside from playing that scolding almost maternal role whenever the boys quarreled, Sigyn's relationship to the God of Thunder was merely civil; they addressed each other respectfully —most of the times— but had never as much as stood in the same room together without other people present. The prince of Asgard with whom she had formed a much closer association was Loki.
The God of Mischief would forever gloat by claiming Sigyn had been infatuated with him since they were children, that the girl had always been visibly enamored with him. Sigyn would only respond to those comments with a scornful smirk, aware —and she knew he was as well— that if anything it had been the other way around. Admittedly, it had been Sigyn who had initiated their very first interaction, just the two of them, but only because she wished to put a theory to the test, a theory that suggested Loki would always adopt a nervous, almost bashful behavior whenever he addressed her, which he tried to conceal with indifference— there might have been a dash of wishful thinking involved, but Sigyn knew the dangers of letting Loki know he could be right, so she would never admit it.
One day out in the Palace's gardens, while Thor and his friends were vauntingly displaying their sword-fighting abilities, Loki sat in a remote corner, reading. Sigyn, being through with her lessons of the day and without anything better to do, took the liberty of approaching him, going as far as taking a seat right next to him.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Reading," answered the boy nonchalantly, eyes remaining on the page.
"Yes, I can see that."
"Then, why do you ask?"
"I meant, what are you reading?"
"A book," he replied, still not looking up from the page.
Sigyn rolled her eyes. "Which I hope, for your sake, is a book on making friends, you could certainly use it."
That comment caught Loki's attention at last; he glanced in front of him for a second and then turned his head to look at the girl who, quite pleased with her jibe, was smiling.
"It's a book of magic," he answered properly at last. "My mother is tutoring me in the art of Seidr, I figured I could do with some self-teaching of my own."
"I thought only women were able to practice Seidr."
Sigyn tilted her head in order to take a better look at the pages from which the boy was studying and, even though he sighed in the process, he lowered his book and turned it slightly towards her so they could read together.
"No. See, Seidr practitioners have always been mostly women. Since you cannot be born with these talents, only be taught them, it was far more likely that any man who possessed them had been instructed by a woman... which, I suppose, was seen as unmanly or something of the sort. Therefore, men often chose not to practice Seidr to avoid ridicule."
"That's idiotic."
Sigyn's abrupt and blunt honesty made the prince chuckle in spite of himself, which he tried to play off by clearing his throat, the tip of his finger beginning to toy with the corner of a page.
"Yes, I suppose it is."
"Have you learned to do any tricks yet?" wondered Sigyn out of sheer curiosity, apparently not concerned with the possibility that she might have been annoying the Prince. While they had exclusively interacted with one another in the presence of other people, Sigyn knew the boy enough to assume he would never turn down the opportunity of exhibiting his abilities, especially —although that detail in particular she would infer later in life— being a talent that his older brother did not possess.
"They're not tricks," protested the boy.
"What are they, then?" she asked with a cadence mockingly similar to his.
"It's the channeling of the spiritual realm and wielding its power in order to perform—"
"Tricks?"
Loki glared at her, all the while hoping he was successfully concealing the rebel half-smile he felt tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Illusions. Amongst other things."
"All right, well, in that case, have you learned to do any illusions yet?" She made particular emphasis on the term.
This time, the boy allowed himself to smile, however faintly, if only because he was rolling his eyes simultaneously. Straightening his back with purpose, he cleared his throat in preparation and held his hand out, palm facing the sky. From it emerged a single green spark, which shot up for just a few centimetres before dissolving in the air. Loki closed and withdrew his hand, visibly disappointed.
"I'm sorry," he said as he looked down at his book again, obviously looking for an excuse to avoid the girl's gaze. "That was supposed to be fireworks."
Sigyn, far from being unimpressed, was beaming. "I liked this better, actually," she commented to her companion's surprise. "Did you make it green on purpose?"
Still a little flustered, for he had been expecting mockery rather than genuine interest, Loki stammered momentarily before he answered.
"Oh, no. I'm not... exactly sure how it manifests, I suppose it would have to depend on who channels that energy or where in the spiritual realm it comes from."
"You are not still blabbering on about magic, brother, are you?" came Thor's taunting voice from afar. "Have you so little faith in your physical prowess you're turning to tricks in a feeble attempt to match mine?"
"Careful, brother," warned Loki as his eyes once again lowered to his book. "I've taught you the meaning behind most of those elegant words myself and, if I remember correctly, you've only got a few left, you might not want to compress so many of them in just the one sentence."
"Look at where all those elegant words have got you, Loki!" laughed his brother as he pointed towards him with his sword. "Isolated in a tedious library, having private lessons with Mother, instead of being out here becoming the warrior a Prince of Asgard ought to be!"
"Well, excuse me for finally giving Mother a son with the actual ability to read. Or is being an utter oaf another thing a Prince of Asgard ought to be?"
After that, it only took seconds for the confrontation to become physical; fortunately, by then, Sigyn had already left her seat and made her way towards the nearest guard whose attention she immediately brought to the altercation.
"Boys!" came the Queen's warning from above them and when the two Princes looked up, they found their mother looking down at them from her balcony.
Her presence alone was enough to put an end to the fight, although the boys did purposely shove each other a few more times as they pretended to lean upon each other for support while getting on their feet. Frigga demanded they met with her at once and, clearly foreseeing a reprimand, her sons sighed heavily, parting side by side to oblige.
"Well, last time she told on me, so this better be about you," muttered Loki under his breath, recalling that Sigyn had very recently used that strategy in order to punctuate another confrontation between the two brothers.
"You cannot honestly believe this is as bad as what you did last time."
"Oh, for goodness sake, brother, I thought it was I who was known for being theatrical..."
"You stabbed me!"
"What kind of a mighty warrior stumbles at the first superficial injury?"
The following interaction between Sigyn and Loki alone was, surprisingly enough, originated by him when he approached her to hand her the very book he had been reading that day. Having already studied it himself and since she had shown interest in the subject of magic, he offered to lend it to her. Far from being something that had resulted in giving them something in common, every time they discussed that book, or magic in general, the two only quarreled, disagreed on which magical ability had more merit, or on the ways in which said abilities should be used or to what purpose— Anyone would have argued that since they hardly ever saw eye to eye, they would have grown apart; however, each week that passed, it seemed like the pair spent longer and longer portions of their day simply arguing, eventually branching away from the topic that had brought them together in the first place, moving on to discuss countless other subjects.
Soon enough, Sigyn learned that bringing up magic in front of other people, more specifically Thor and his friends, was out of the question, for immediately they would have their conversation interrupted by a dozen, witless taunts, which only served to insult those administering them more than to hurt the other two's feelings... unfortunately for the latter, the former were too mindless to even know it. Needless to say, she did not mind. She much preferred to find moments of privacy when to safely exchange views, listening to Loki speak for hours before he, in return, listened to her for a few more while she explained in detail while his point of view was utter nonsense.