But it wouldn't be the first reminder that despite the peace between Aesir and Vanir, the two cultures are very different. Vanir women have much more freedom than most Aesir women, for example, and the Vanir knowledge of seithr is unparallelled. Perhaps they place less emphasis on family lines.
He supposes it's possible Synne doesn't know who her father is; she speaks of her mother but never of any other family member. Immersed in such thoughts, he doesn't notice Fandral falling into step beside him until the other man speaks.
"Good morning, Loki."
He resists startling, suspicious of Fandral's motives. "Good morning," he responds, carefully.
"So, tell me how you came to know Synne of the Vanir," Fandral says, and Loki can tell he thinks he's being sly. He doesn't roll his eyes, but his mouth quirks a bit.
"That's a long story," he replies instead. Fandral's eyebrows flick up, then down.
"How long have you known her?" he says, carefully, looking like a man treading dangerous ground.
Loki has to actually stop and think about that, and the answer is something of a surprise even to him. "Eight years. She ... shared my lessons on seithr."
They turn together into the dining chamber, empty yet at this hour, and Fandral goes immediately to the fire-circle, twisting his hands together. "That's impressive, Loki," he says at last. "You've stolen a march on the entire court, and until last night no one even knew."
"Frequently they don't," Loki points out. "I may be a prince of Asgard, but I'm not very well liked."
"How can you say that after walking into Winternight with Synne on your arm?"
Loki shrugs. "It was her idea."
Fandral stares at him now, frozen in mid-motion. "Is that it? Was last night another one of your tricks?"
"I really don't understand why this is such a big deal to you, Fandral," Loki snaps. He's out of patience with this series of questions and Fandral's reactions to his answers, and he really just wants to know what by Yggdrasil is going on here.
Fandral drops heavily onto one of the benches encircling the fire and smooths his hand over his beard. "I'm just having trouble believing it, that's all. I know you'd had that girl back the spring, but - "
Loki cuts him off, angrily. "I've bedded no one else."
Fandral nods. "You didn't seem to have liked it much, I noticed."
"Even you can't be this oblivious," Loki sneers. "'The girl,' as you so delicately term it, last spring was Synne. I've bedded no one else since then, nor am I like to. She is my lady, and I - " he hesitates.
Fandral is clearly having some trouble parsing this information, judging by the look on his face. Loki thinks to himself that Thor had less trouble comprehending the situation last night, and thinks better of his brother than he has in a while.
Putting his face in his hands, Fandral mumbles, "You have a steady lover. Synne is your lover. You."
"Do not insult me further, Fandral," Loki warns. "I will not hear it."
"Or what? You'll fill my bed with snakes? A hollow threat, la - man."
Loki murmurs coolly, "Less so than you may think."
"I think you've made your point," a voice interposes, and both men look up to see Sif in the entrance. "Let Loki alone, Fandral. He's a right to bed whom he wants, no matter how much you may want the woman for yourself. I didn't notice you making any moves that direction, myself."
Meanly, Loki is glad to see Fandral flinch at the acid in Sif's tone. Then her gaze swings to him, and he returns his coolest look. "Stop that," she admonishes him. "I know perfectly well she chose you, not the other way round."
"Maybe you can tell me what she sees in him," Fandral says, cuttingly. Sif levels a look of sheer disdain at him and says, "Shut up, Fandral." The blond swordsman subsides, grumbling under his breath.
Sif takes Loki's arm and steers him back out the door. "The two of you looked very fine yesterday," she says, conversationally.
"Thank you," Loki manages to reply.
She continues, "I'm glad to see you both getting out more. Perhaps if you and Synne join us in the evenings, Fandral will be able to look his fill and stop being so - "
"Repellent?" Loki fills in.
"I was going to say 'petulant,' but that will do." Sif tosses her tail of hair. "She's happy, with you."
Wryly, Loki says, "I'm glad you approve."
She gives him another one of those looks. "You don't need anyone's approval, Loki. Just ... " she shrugs. "Never mind. The last thing you need is interfering advice from me." She unlinks her arm from his, leaving him at the door to the library, and keeps walking. Loki blinks after her for a long moment before pushing the doors open.