Sigyn always knew she had magic. It had developed when she was a mere baby, glass breaking every time she sneezed, or her toys moving by themselves. Her parents could not hide it from her, or if they tried, not for long. They could not change how Sigyn saw the world, all pulsing with colours and energies and magic.
It was a part of her, as sure as the stars were part of the sky, and it was a part neither of her parents could change. She secretly relished that, having something that her parents could not touch. It was all her own, unlike everything else, and she guarded it like a mother cat guards her newborn kittens, all claws and teeth.
Her parents do not allow her to study magic, but when she sees the book just waiting for her amidst a small pile on a seller man's cart, she cannot deny it. Its pull is too hard. It is dark green leather with golden spiral details and lettering on it, proclaiming itself a Book of Simple Spells and Magic. Its pages are old, but the edges still gleam faintly with gold. She is utterly in love with how it feels in her hands, light and smooth and full of possibility.
"Here now, girl," the man says, his face kindly, his smile warm. "I see you've taken a liking to that one."
"How much is it?" she asks shyly, as she does everything. She is not a bold girl, and she knows this and is comfortable in her shyness.
The man considers for a moment, studying her, and then says, "However much you've got, child."
"What? No, I couldn't-"
He raises a hand to stop her. "I won't hear nothing of that sort, little miss. No one else has wanted it. You give me however much you've got, and we'll call it a sale."
She glances over her shoulder, though why she doesn't know. Her parents are not around to say no; she has come to the market all by herself to buy herbs for the stew that night, and she needs the permission of no one. Still, a part of her fears that her parents will somehow sense that she's doing something they will not approve of and it gives her pause.
The pause does not last for very long. Sigyn digs into her tiny purse that she made all on her own and pulls out the few coins she has, counting them in her palm. It is not much. It wouldn't even buy a small slice of fruit.
But the man accepts it with a broad smile and she hugs him in her happiness. His laugh is a happy rumbling in her ear, and then he ruffles her hair and moves her along. She comes away from the cart, hugging the book against her chest tightly, knuckles white, as if she fears it will vanish from her grip if she loosens it even a little.
She does not even tell Theoric of her new belonging. It is a secret meant just for her, something she decides to keep safe. Theoric plays too closely to the rules, obeys them too much; he would, without a doubt, tell her parents. And then they would take it away from her, and that can not happen.
So when she returns home and hands the herbs to her mother, she immediately hides in her room, climbing onto the small wooden chair that sits by the window. She pulls a blanket up with her, though the day is warm and sunny, to hide the book in case her mother or father come in unexpectedly.
And then, holding her breath, she opens the book.
The years have changed me, Sigyn thinks as she wanders through the dark forest. Or perhaps, she admits to herself, the change has been more recent. There was a time when she would have shrunk away from this part of the forest she travels through now, where the sun has trouble shining through the thick trees, leaving everything under them dark and cool. Things stalk her in the shadows and the horse's ears flick back and forth, her breath huffing nervously through her nose.
Sigyn pays them no mind. She has long since learned that there are monsters even in the most glorious of places, wearing the nicest of faces, and so she no longer fears the ones that stay hidden. It seems that the things stalking her, whatever they may be, are disinterested in attacking a mother who has her children with her as they do not approach her. They merely follow, and Sigyn is fine with that.
Perhaps they recognize their like when they see it, she thinks. Her mother used to call her a monster when she'd been too long at the drink. The very word used to cut deep into Sigyn's heart and repeated itself in her mind when she cried herself to sleep.
Now Sigyn considers it an honour. If being a good person means being like the worst traitors in Asgard, she will happily be a monster, yes, and be married to one and mother to two herself.
Sigyn looks down at her twins while the horse walks on. They sleep peacefully, curled up together, little hands curled up near their mouths. Their fingers are still so tiny. After they were born, she used to spend hours simply marveling at their tiny little bodies and wishing Loki were there to marvel at them with her.
Soon, Sigyn thinks. It's become a familiar mantra, a reminder of why she's going through this. Soon, soon, soon you will know your father, my loves, and soon he will know you.
If this next part of the plan works, that is.
It's getting near night time-or so she thinks, unable to check the sky as she is-when they come upon the cave. Somehow, Sigyn knows it's the one she needs. The horse shies away from it and Sigyn resists the urge to do the same. There's a malevolent feeling emanating from it, one that leaves her disquieted and wakes her twins up, causing them to whine and begin crying.
She takes a few minutes to calm them down, whispering to them how she'd never let anything hurt them, and then she swings down from the horse and ties her up on a tree near some grass. Then she takes up a long, thick stick from the ground and lights a fire on the end of it, hoping it'll last long enough for her to find her way through the darkness.
And then, with a steadying breath, Sigyn steps foot into the cave.
Once, there was a terrible serpent with venom so poisonous that it could burn even the skin of an Asgardian. Many soldiers were sent to kill it, but it melted the metal of their weapons, ate the soldiers, and continued its existence in the darkest part of the woods. It never went into any cities, never attacked any Aesir except the ones that came to kill him in turn, and so people wondered why the Allfather did not choose to simply ignore it.
The Allfather's reasons, of course, were his own.
Whatever they were, the Allfather rode out to meet the serpent himself. But he did not kill the serpent. Instead, using the power given to him when he became King, he beat the serpent back into a cave and there imprisoned it. The serpent stayed there for too many centuries to count, and was eventually forgotten by most everyone...
Except the Allfather and his wife, Frigga.
Whatever reasons they had for choosing to imprison the snake instead of killing it, they did not share with anyone else, and no one asked them either. Their decisions was simply taken as it was and life went on in Asgard as it always had.
But there were always rumours, and one scholar once wrote a small tale down about the Allfather and the serpent in a book, which was one day picked up by a young girl...
The fire did not last long enough. As she got into the deepest part of the cave, Sigyn had to put it out before it burned her hand, leaving her in utter darkness. She fought a sense of rising panic, coupled with the foreboding the cave instilled in her.
She wasn't certain why, but it frightened her in a way. Perhaps because it was simply too small in places, too tight, too dark. Perhaps because anything could now be sneaking up on her and she wouldn't be able to hear it until it was too late. Perhaps it was simply something the Allfather placed inside the very rock of the cave, to ward off anyone who might be curious.
Whatever it is, it leaves Sigyn with a sickness in her stomach that she can not shake. But she forges on, because she has come too far for anything else.
One foot in front of the other, Sigyn thinks. One foot in front of the other, one hand on the wall, ignore your heartbeat and listen instead for those who might prey on you and your children...
Finally, after what feels like hours of walking, she begins to hear the steady dripping of water. She follows it, ignoring the damp, stagnant smell in the air, and hopes she is getting close.
The light almost hurts her eyes when she suddenly comes across a large clearing in the cave. The roof rises so high that not even Surtr could reach it. Sunlight filters in from the holes in the top, illuminating everything before her. There's a small waterfall that joins a pool, which then runs off somewhere down further into the cave.
And then she sees the serpent. It's a beautiful creature, scales a bright green with some yellow splattered throughout, and she wonders how anyone could look at this magnificent beast and see anything worth fearing.
Sigyn puts an arm around her twins, just in case, and then steps forward to greet the beast.
Before she can say anything, the serpent focuses its yellow eyes on her, tongue flicking out to taste the air. Sigyn stops, keeping her expression carefully blank. She inclines her head respectfully, wondering how to start.
"And why have you come here, little Asgardian?" the serpent asks, and Sigyn startles to hear it speak.
"I-I have come to seek your help."
The serpent considers her briefly, tasting the air again before saying, "No one has ever sought my help before. They've only tried to kill me."
"Yes," Sigyn says, "the Allfather does tend to dislike what he considers monsters."
"And his mistake was in believing I cared anything for his kind in the first place," the serpent says dismissively, and Sigyn bites back a smile. "I was content to leave them alone until they became frightened of me and began sending soldiers to kill me."
"I am no such soldier, I can assure you."
"I know," the serpent says. "Unless you intend to use those babes at your breasts as weapons, you are no soldier. What help do you need from one such as I?"
Sigyn lifts her wrists up to the serpent so that the silver handcuffs shine in the sunlight. "I have been bound," she says. "The Allfather placed these on me so that I cannot use my magic, and then he banished me so that I would not remain with my husband. He fears my husband, as he fears you, and he fears my children are heirs to the throne of Asgard."
"So many things the Allfather fears," the serpent observes.
"Burdened is the head which wears the crown," Sigyn shrugs. "I read once that your venom is so poisonous to could burn through the strongest of metals we have at our disposal."
"That is true. And so you wish for me to burn off those bindings?"
"I do."
The serpent considers this idea, staring at her all the while. "It will hurt," it says finally. "And your hands will be burned in the process. You may even lose the use of one, if it stays under the venom for too long."
"I have to return to my husband," Sigyn says simply. "My children must know him."
The beast does not answer right away, slithering along the dead tree it's perched on. "I require something from you if I do this."
Sigyn pauses before carefully saying, "Which would be?"
"My freedom," the serpent says. "If I free you, then you must free me in turn. I think that is a fair deal, don't you?"
"I..." She shakes her head. "The Allfather himself bound you here. I am a powerful sorceress, it's true, but even I am not that powerful. I cannot undo the Allfather's magic."
"Silly child," the serpent says, and Sigyn swears she can hear it laughing in its own way-a hissing, breathy sound. "Everything can be undone if you simply give it enough time. The Allfather is not infallible. His power knows bounds and restrictions, just as everyone's does. If you will not free me, then I shall not free you either, and we will both have lost."
Sigyn considers it, biting her lip. "I will free you," she says at length, "but I will have to leave here first and return to my husband. I cannot stay here after you've destroyed these cuffs and work for you then. I must leave, find my husband, then get away from Asgard safely. He is a better sorcerer than I; he may know of a better way to free you. But I will return, I swear it. I will not leave you here."
There's a long stretch of silence before the serpent says, "Very well. Put your suckling babes down and away from here, and then give me your wrists, child."
Sigyn gets her twins situated on a small dip in the floor, in her line of sight, and then approaches the serpent. She hesitates only for a brief second before holding her wrists up to the serpent, watches as it opens it gigantic, wide mouth, and then bites through her tongue to keep from screaming when the first drop of venom hits her skin with a sick sizzling sound.
Sigyn emerges from the cave a day later, stumbling on weak legs, her mind blurry with the pain radiating throughout her entire body. She does not look at her wrists. She cannot without getting sick. The skin has melted away, as have most of the muscles, leaving her bones bare in places.
She nearly falls before she makes it to the horse, but in the interest of not killing her children, she regains her balance. She falls on her knees near a tree and then crawls over to it, leaning on it, catching her breath, and then sobbing from the agony.
But her plan has worked. She can feel her magic brimming throughout her entire body, overfilling her, joyous now that it has been freed. Sigyn closes her eyes and then focuses it all on her wrists, writhing as her healing spell begins its long work of recreating bone, muscle, nerves and skin.
It takes long, longer than she wishes, but finally when night falls she is healed. Sigyn brings her shaking hands up to her twins and laughs, a loud laugh that echoes throughout the forest.
"I have done it, my boys, my beautiful boys," she says, breathless. "I have freed myself. And now I go to free your father, and the Allfather himself cannot stop me."