AN: For those of you that aren't familiar with Sigyn or Norse mythology, you might want to brush up specifically on the myths (or, really, just myth) concerning her.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sigyn replied with a laugh. Loki shuddered involuntarily; the sound seemed to race up and down his spine, tracing the base of his neck with the faint sharpness of fingernails brushing against skin. If the sound had been coming from anybody else, it would have been irresistible. But he found that the sounds assaulting his ears paled against the steely green eyes that stared back at him without compassion.

"Why?" she said, her laughter dying abruptly. "Isn't it obvious?" Loki couldn't reply. His throat seemed to have died; he opened his mouth and moved his lips, but he no sound came forth. Sigyn smirked. "No? Guess. Go on. Use that wonderful mind of yours. Guess why I did what I did, why I do what I do. Guess."

Loki remained silent, his mind buzzing. Sigyn's expression darkened. Her head tilted at an unnatural angle; the light fell across her face and created skeletal shadows beneath her eyes and cheekbones. "Maybe you didn't hear me," she said sweetly. Her eyes widened suddenly, her hand darting towards a fold in her cloak. "Remember this?"

She retrieved a small crystal vial full of something that looked like salt water. Loki felt all the blood leave his face as though he had just stepped out into the cold. He knew that vial. He reached out without thinking to stop her hand, but his hand came a second too late. Sigyn unstopped the vial and tipped a single drop of the liquid onto Darcy's bare shoulder.

Her back arched violently, but she didn't make a sound. She pressed her eyelids and lips together, trying in vain to suppress the expression of agony that longed to break forth. A small stream of tears spilled past her eyelashes in spite of her efforts—but she managed to remain silent.

Loki let out a garbled, incoherent sound of protest as he staggered forward on his knees to wipe the venom off Darcy's skin, and then gasped as he felt his arm come into contact with something solid. He pounded his hand against the air, bewildered, and desperate to get through whatever invisible wall had formed between himself and Darcy. He stared openly at Sigyn and swallowed heavily. She didn't know magic…how could she restrain them or keep them apart invisibly?

Sigyn righted the vial. Her satisfied leer dissolved into a snarl, her eyes narrow and piercing. "I said," she hissed, "guess."

Loki finally found his voice. "You were jealous," he said automatically. He licked his lips nervously; he had to keep talking, keep her occupied. "Y-you resented the fact that I loved—love—someone else." He glanced at Darcy out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting up again, and looking at him. His heart beat a little faster, hopeful for the briefest moment. She didn't look broken, or defeated. She looked like a beautiful woman with tear-streaked cheeks and too-red lips and eyes that still looked at him as if she loved him back.

Sigyn took in the lovers' silent exchange narrowly. "I'm disappointed in you," she said in a low voice. "You were always so perceptive." Loki saw the action coming a split second before her hand moved. She tipped the vial again, this time letting two drops spill out and onto Darcy's arm.

Loki surged forward blindly against the invisible wall separating them, every trace of coherent thought vanishing from his mind. Darcy shook her head slightly at him through her pain, peering back at him soundlessly. Their eyes met; she shook her head again, imploring him wordlessly to let it go. He reluctantly slid back from the wall, returning his gaze to Sigyn with fury in his gaze.

His fury seemed to incense her further. "See how she blinds you?" she cried, her voice rising in pitch. "You can't even think straight when she's around, you cannot realize that what I feel goes deeper than jealousy. She weakens you. She has made you mindless, a drone. You deserve better." This time, Loki saw the signs a moment before Sigyn so much as moved towards Darcy. He lunged for her viciously, springing to his feet with his hands outstretched as if to choke her. She held up a hand calmly. "Ah—ah—" she said, smiling and wagging a finger at him. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Loki breathed heavily as he stared at her, considering his options. He wanted to kill her. Damn chivalry, damn his upbringing. He wanted to hurt her and make her sorry that she had ever laid eyes upon him or upon Darcy. But something forced him to hold back. He sat down mechanically, still seething and glaring at Sigyn hatefully. "Smart move," she said. "Not that you had much choice." She pushed aside the folds of her dress that draped around her waist. Loki glimpsed the motion in his peripheral vision, his eyes darting to it instinctively. He caught himself, realized what she was trying to do—he turned back to stare at her waist, double-taking in disbelief.

There, wrapped around her waist, snaking back under the fabric of her dress where she didn't part the cloth, was the girdle of Aphrodite, shining bright gold with nearly invisible threads of ore and fragments of precious stones.

He raised his eyes to Sigyn's face, torn between wonder and fury. "You made a deal with her, didn't you?" he demanded, his mind racing as everything began to fall into place—the double theft, her ability to compel Darcy to steal the apple, her ability to bind them both and force them to remain prisoners. Sigyn turned her face away, walking across the room coyly. "You offered her information about how to get the apple in exchange for the girdle."

She spun on her heel, her eyes gleaming. "Oh, bravo!" she sneered. "Now the gears are turning." She tossed her hair angrily. "Yes. I helped her. I had to act. I couldn't just-just sit there and watch you waste your life on a stupid, silly mortal. When I heard that there had been a break-in at Olympus, I immediately sought out those who I thought might have done it. I found Medea here, in her home. She was...gracious. You see, we had similar interests. She wanted Jason, and I needed you." She walked towards Loki slowly, deliberately swaying her hips with every calculated step. He looked away from her; he didn't want to see this. He wasn't interested in her attempts at seduction. His eyes settled on Darcy. She felt his stare on her face and raised her eyes to meet his. They locked gazes as Sigyn continued her explanation, carrying on their own silent conversation with their eyes.

She seemed too lost in her story to notice them. "So I told her what she needed to know about you, about your ridiculous weakness for her in exchange for what I needed to finally win you over. And I will win you over." She snapped from her reverie suddenly, and spotted the lovers looking at each other. She surged forward with a snarl and grasped Loki's chin firmly, her nails digging in to his jaw as she forced him to turn towards her. "Look at me," she snarled. I want you to look at me when I speak to you. I want you to look at me when I don't. I want you to look at me forever and never look at her again."

Loki stared at her defiantly for a moment, then fell slack. He had to play along. Let her win…anything to make her stop hurting Darcy. He let his face smooth and relax in her grip. After several seconds to ensure his surrender, Sigyn released her hold upon him. She looked down at him almost tenderly, her nails tracing delicate lines up his jawline instead of digging into his skin. Loki's stomach turned. Without thinking, his eyes darted to Darcy.

Sigyn let out a furious scream. Loki made to stop her, his heart pounding, but he was stopped again by the wall. He looked on helplessly as Sigyn tipped the bottle and let the venom rain down on Darcy's head for a few seconds.

"Please, stop this," Loki burst out, his voice breaking. "What do you hope to achieve by hurting her?" To his immense relief, Sigyn righted the bottle. She turned to study him slowly.

"I don't hope to achieve anything," she said in a hollow voice. "I will have what I want: you." She let out a mad, humorless laugh that verged on crying. She gestured wildly at the girdle. "The magic is already working, but it's not enough. I was a fool not to realize it sooner. You wouldn't fall just for a pretty face," she said with an ugly expression, "for a fawning gaze. You have better taste than that. You don't love her face!" Sigyn's voice rose to a vicious growl and her foot shot out, kicking Darcy in the ribs. Loki flinched. Sigyn turned back to face him, panting slightly, her hair mussed and falling in her face. "You love her. You love her mind." She shoved Darcy with the heel of her boot. Loki started to protest, but swallowed the words; he couldn't risk angering her further. Instead, he tried his best to look docile and innocent as Sigyn stooped over to speak to him, her lips inches from his nose. "When I'm finished," she said, so close that he could feel her breath on his face, "there won't be anything left to love of her. She will be gone, and you will have nothing to fight for." She made another strange noise halfway between a sarcastic laugh and a sob. "Maybe then you'll look at me. Maybe then you'll give me a chance."

"Sigyn…" His lips suddenly felt very dry. "I'm sorry."

Her half-chuckle disintegrated into full-blown laughter. She cackled feverishly. "You're not sorry," she said, her mirth quickly fading. "If you were sorry, you'd be pleading me for forgiveness. If you were sorry, you wouldn't even look at her, because she wouldn't matter. If you were sorry, you would love me! You're not sorry." She rose to her full height. "Not yet."

She turned on her heel and strode towards Darcy. Loki's stomach dropped as he realized what she was going to do.

"Please..." he whispered.

She shook her head. "No," she replied. Loki blanched as she opened the bottle once more. "The time for pleas has passed," she said, holding her arm out so the bottle was directly above Darcy. "Where was your apology when you laughed at the notes I wrote you as a child, when you thought I had left?" She tipped the bottle. Darcy winced, but didn't make a sound as several drops of venom spilled down upon her head, leaving tracks of what Loki knew must have felt like fire in her hair. "Where was your apology when you told me you had other plans," her voice rose agitatedly, "only to show up at the feast alone?" Loki swallowed hard against the lump in his throat as Sigyn poured more venom on Darcy, enough to create tiny rivulets of liquid that streamed down her cheeks past her tears. "I never once pleaded with you for anything, and if I had, you wouldn't have listened. Nobody ever listened. I didn't exist. I was invisible!"

Darcy let out a tiny whimper as the accumulation of venom became too much for her, searing at her skin with a pain that Loki refused to let himself remember, even in his darkest hours. He had no choice now. He closed his eyes involuntarily as the memories flooded back to him.

Sigyn smirked. "Now do you hear the pleas I never said aloud?" she breathed. Her face curled into a snarl. "Now do you see me?" she screamed. "Do you?"

"Yes!" he roared.

"No, you don't. You're just playing along with me because you don't want me to hurt her. Aren't you?" Loki glowered at his hands but didn't reply. Sigyn laughed softly, so quiet as to almost be a breath. "I know your games. I've watched you play them for so long. Now it's my turn. My game. My rules. And it starts now." Time seemed suspended, to scarcely move at all as Loki watched her hand begin to tip the vial.

"Wait..." he burst out. Sigyn didn't react. He raised his voice. "If you kill her, I'll die too."

Sigyn froze. "You're lying."

"No, I'm not. Do you remember when I died?"

Some expression flickered across her face faster than Loki could study it. "Of course I do," she said. Her voice seemed oddly hollow as she spoke. She swallowed. "It's all I can see when I close my eyes."

"She brought me back with a spell. A spell that I originally performed in order to regain my immortality: the Thrice Blood spell. It bound us together to the point of inseparability. She is what ties me to life. If she dies, I die."

Sigyn's face seemed to be dancing, courting different facial expressions and trying each of them on in turn. First shock, then confusion, then sadness, then nothingness, and finally fury.

"You are lying to me!" she bellowed. "If your life is so dependent upon hers, why haven't you made her immortal yet? Why haven't you married her?"

"Because she didn't want to." He glanced at Darcy. She stared back at him, her eyes seeming unnaturally blue against her red, teary lids. It made his chest ache. "Not yet, anyway. It was my hope that we would. Someday."

"Was it?" Loki turned to look at Darcy, hoping to meet her eyes again. But she wouldn't look at him, wouldn't look up. Her eyes were screwed up, her face turned away from the center of the room as she fought against the venom. He turned to look at Sigyn—and he saw the look on her face. His heart sank. "Then it looks like today is your lucky day," she said coldly. "Because you two are going to get married."

Loki felt as though his skin had turned to ice. He stared at Sigyn with eyes like saucers. "What?"

Sigyn pouted her lips and put on a falsely high-pitched voice. "What?" She laughed softly, a quiet chuckle that caught in her throat and became a whimper. "I love you," she said. "I can't let you die. I want to be with you, together forever. Marry her. I don't care. It's just a formality. I want you to. Make her immortal, so that you can be immortal. So we can be immortal...together."

Loki shook his head. "Sigyn," he said slowly, trying to be diplomatic, "we will never be together."

"Yes we will." She reached out to trace her fingernails against his jawline with what he assumed was her attempt at tenderness. He flinched away instinctively. "Stop fighting me," she crooned, her other hand finding its way to his hair, brushing it away from his forehead. "Give in. Think of how happy we could be together. Think of what we could do. We don't need Medea. We'll get rid of her. We don't need anyone to tell us what to do, or how to live. We could make our own rules." Her eyes glazed over distantly as her thumb glided along his brow bone. "Queen Sigyn…King Loki…"

He jerked away from her. "No," he snapped.

He realized, too late, that he had made a grave mistake.

Sigyn smiled cruelly. "I thought you might say that."