The young prince and the half-Vanir child often played together in Freyr's garden or in Odin's hall. Some days they would each bring a couple toys out and play together, although it was quite hard because Loki wanted to add drama and conflict, and Sigyn wanted things to be an ordinary, everyday routine. For awhile, they played hide-and-seek and leap frog in the garden, and sometimes would play with Freyr and get him to chase them through the orchard; Sigyn riding his boar, Gullinbursti with Loki running effortlessly along beside them. On long summer nights, Sigyn would cuddle up with Loki as he read a book to her until she fell asleep or it got too dark to read. Then Freyr would come fetch her to take her inside and put her to bed.
Whenever they were bored and out of ideas of things to do, they would sit in the meadows behind the hill bordering the orchard and just talk. This activity grew increasingly common when they got older. They grew out of playing games and with toys and became hopeless dreaming teenagers.
Loki was growing into a fine young man. He was a couple feet taller than he was as a child, and his hair was longer, and often in his face. It wasn't long enough to do anything with it, but he did not wish to cut it. He knew Sigyn had mentioned before that she liked long hair, and he did not want her falling for his brother, whose hair was long and golden at eighteen.
Sigyn on the other hand was blossoming into a beautiful woman, who wished to go out in public and see the sights, but Freyr keeps her close to avoid any curious boys. Her long blonde hair now had to be pulled up and tied with leather to keep from dragging on the floor. When it was all brushed and laid out, her hair was twice as long as she was. Some of the girls and maidens from the palace would put flowers in her hair and braid sections of it. Loki always told her several times in a day that she looked wonderful.
Now Loki understood what Thor had gone through, and is still going through in his teenage years. Girls. Sigyn wasn't just his friend anymore. He thought of her as something more. She was his closest friend, his best and only friend, and she was also a girl. She was the only one who understood him, and she was also the only one for him in all the World Tree. He secretly loved her, and her body language told him that she may secretly love him too, as she often held his hand, hugged him, and one time, kissed him on the cheek.
Some nights, they would sit under the stars on the fountain and Loki would tell her about Midgard and the other realms that he had visited with his brother and father on diplomatic missions. He told her about the large cities in Midgard, which far surpassed Asgard in size, such as New York, Hong Kong, and Paris, which Sigyn wished to visit one day. He told her about the elves of Álfheim, about the Vanir of Vanaheim, and the towering ice towers of Jötunheim.
"Oh, Loki you should take me next time you go. Please?" Sigyn begged when he told her about sneaking off to Paris one day to grab some pain au chocolat. "Anywhere would be nice but I would love Paris," she hugged herself excitedly.
"When I improve my magic enough to transport you and me both, I will, I promise," he told her with a smile as he clutched her hand, knowing with her position as a half-god, she'd never be able to cross Bifrost without her mother's consent. But his magic was getting better, and he studied every day.
He discovered he had a knack at magic only recently when he stumbled upon some old spell books in his father's library. Loki even tried to teach Sigyn some magic and found that she had potential for it as well, but not as broad as he had. When Freyr observed Loki performing magic, he took to teaching him a bit about spells, since he and Freya had come from a land of magic originally. Soon, his father promised to contact the Asgardian sorcerer to teach Loki, as soon as he showed that he could master the three spell books he found. He had already finished one of them.
Loki pulled his hand away after a few moments, but Sigyn reached for it again and caressed his fingers. "Loki, can you tell me about Paris again? Can you describe to me the… what are they called, the châteaux?" Sigyn scooted over really close.
"Of course," he said gladly, putting his arm around her.
Freya watched from the window of her brother's hall that overlooked the garden. She watched her daughter and the prince with her eyes narrowed like slits in a fiery oven. Her long golden hair flowed voluptuously over her shoulder and almost blended in with her golden cloak of feathers, which was all she wore, save her necklace, Brísingamen.
"How long has this been going on?" she asked as she fingered her necklace.
Freyr came up next to her and smiled as he saw the two sitting at the fountain. He had a short brown beard and long brown hair that cascaded down his back. All he wore was a brown fur cloak and tanned leather pants and boots.
"Quite awhile actually. Since she was seven or eight perhaps?"
"And how old was the prince?"
"Ten or eleven? Thor was fourteen at the time, so Loki wasn't far behind that age," Freyr told his sister as if it was only small talk. It wasn't like this for Freya to come to observe her daughter, whom she hadn't seen in years, despite living so close.
"Are they in love?" she said the word as if it was poison.
"Those two throbbing hearts, of course they're in love. I've never seen two people so close. They won't admit it to each other, but look at them. They hold each other in their arms, they hold hands, and no doubt talk about dreams," Freyr put his hand to his chest and gazed on as if remembering a time in Vanaheim when he was like that, in love.
"You've gone soft," Freya growled and turned to take her leave.
"You make all men hard," he said aloud as she walked away with a mischievous grin.
"That's just what I'll do brother," Freya whispered to herself as she touched her necklace, the one that she had lain with four dwarves to get. Four dwarves for a necklace would be nothing compared to a prince and being Queen of Asgard, and not to mention causing heartbreak as she went, even the heart of her own daughter.
To be continued...