A/N: Just a quick note to again thank everyone who has commented/followed/favorited this story - and also those who have read it and silently enjoyed it. :) I appreciate every single one of you so very much.
"Loki, are you ever going to tell me where you're taking me?"
"It wouldn't be much of a surprise if I did, now would it?"
Sigyn sat at the dressing table in Loki's chambers, brushing through her hair and watching him don his armor in the mirror. After months of planning, Thor's coronation was just hours away. "Well, I suppose not. I just want to be sure I've packed appropriately."
He stilled for a moment, regarding her reflection as he adjusted the vambrace on his left arm. "I'm sure what you've packed is perfectly fine."
Sigyn smiled weakly at him before returning to her preparations. She and Loki had been busier than ever in the final weeks leading up to this day, with their interactions more akin to those of acquaintances rather than lovers. She had become increasingly convinced that his ardor for her had cooled considerably; enough that she wasn't even sure he would care if she travelled to Vanaheim without him after the coronation.
So she had been shocked when he had informed her only three days prior that he had planned time away from the court for the two of them alone. Shocked - and giddy with excitement. Vanaheim could wait; perhaps getting away from everything and everyone together would set their relationship to rights once again. And if not...well, no one would be able to say she hadn't tried everything in her power to make it work.
"You won't even give me a hint?" she asked, closing her eyes in concentration as she pinned her hair into a coil at the crown of her head. She hated to test his patience with her questioning, but the suspense was killing her.
"No," he said, his voice startlingly close. She turned in her chair to find him crouched beside it, looking up at her with wide eyes. "Do you not trust me?"
"Against my better judgment, yes. This time I do," she said, bracing his head in her hands.
He grinned at her, his face briefly displaying some of the mischief that had been missing in recent weeks. "Well, that was your first mistake."
He stretched up to kiss her, and Sigyn held his head to hers, reveling in the sensations he elicited in her - sensations she had gone far too long without. Endless hours of preparation for today, and all she could think about was how badly she wanted it to finally be over so she and Loki could escape together. She had nearly decided to push him to the floor and begin their own celebration early when he pulled away.
"Forgive me," he said, pressing his forehead to hers. "As much as I would love to stay here with you, I'm needed elsewhere."
"I understand," she said, her disappointment threatening to reduce her to a weeping mess. "Can you help me with my dress before you go?"
"Of course."
Her gown was laid out across the bed, tailored with dainty cap sleeves and a full skirt. She dropped her robe and stepped into it, turning so Loki could fasten the buttons that trailed down her back. As she felt his fingers skim lightly down her bare skin before starting with the bottom button, her eyes fluttered closed with renewed hope. The evening couldn't come fast enough, even if Loki was being secretive about their destination.
As Loki finished with the last button, she spun around, the gold flecks in the pale green fabric shimmering in the dim light. She had chosen the fabric especially for Loki; she knew this day was going to be difficult for him, and she felt that wearing a green dress was the least she could do to show her devotion to him.
"You look breathtaking," he said, taking her in. "Are you certain we must stay through the banquet?"
"Oh, love. Your mother and I have worked hard for months; at least let me see the product of all my labor."
"If you insist. But the moment we can sneak away, you are all mine."
"All yours," she agreed, and she was - completely and wholeheartedly - for as long as he would have her.
The ceremony was about to begin, and Loki found himself alone near the entrance to the throne room, pacing - something he was doing more and more often as of late.
He reached to run his fingers through his hair, finding them blocked by the helmet he kept forgetting he wore. He could scarcely keep his mind calm. He stopped, willing himself to relax. He couldn't afford to raise anyone's suspicions.
So many plans and machinations coming to fruition, the culmination of all his plans imminent after what had seemed an endless wait. But by that evening, it would all be over, and he and Sigyn would be gone.
Convincing his mother to give up her handmaiden's services for an entire week had been no small task. He would have taken Sigyn anyway, with or without his mother's consent, but he was grateful it hadn't come to that. The Queen was going to be upset enough when she found out his true purpose for the trip - a purpose he hadn't even told Sigyn.
Thor could have his precious crown. By that time the next day, Loki would have an even greater prize - a wife.
Finding a magistrate willing to perform the rites had been his foremost task. Loki had disguised himself just enough to quell any suspicion of his true identity, but the gold he carried - along with the promise of more when the ceremony was complete - was enough to both keep the man from asking too many questions and ensure his discretion.
His parents would be furious that he had forgone all the rules of etiquette and royal protocol - in fact, Loki fully expected the queen to insist on planning a more elaborate ceremony upon their return. He wouldn't deny his mother the pleasure, but he had waited long enough. He was not going to waste another day with the fear of losing Sigyn burdening his heart.
Loki knew leaving Sigyn in the dark about his plans risked her rejection, but he was confident she wouldn't refuse him. He had seen the look in her eyes when she told him of Edmund's engagement - the look that spoke more clearly of her desires and fears than any thought she had ever voiced aloud.
An overwhelming desire for Loki to marry her…and a deep-seated fear he never would.
He was certain that's what had prompted her to look to leaving him. Had he been able to, he would have taken her the very day he had overheard her conversation with his mother, ridding her of her doubts once and for all; yet he knew in this instance, patience would be of the utmost importance.
Loki had no real hope that the Jotun contingent would make it in time to stop the coronation itself, but they would most assuredly mar the first day of the new king's reign. Perhaps Thor would even do something foolish enough to make their father reconsider and revoke his power. It was not unthinkable.
Waiting until after the coronation to escape with Sigyn would serve a dual purpose. His marriage to her was of course primary, but it would also allow him to be gone when Thor put into action whatever ill-advised retaliation he was sure to concoct against Jotunheim.
But when that happened, Loki planned to be enjoying his marriage bed with his new bride - far away from the distractions that had threatened to take her from his side.
He heard the doors to the anteroom swing open, and his brother's booming voice immediately after - Another! - followed by the sound of something shattering as it was thrown into a fire, likely a goblet of wine. The thought crossed Loki's mind that Thor's insistence on destruction - even down to tableware - would certainly prove useful in the coming days.
Loki stepped around one of the curtains flanking the room, just in time to see his brother stop near the stairs leading to the throne room itself. For a split second, Thor looked almost worried, but the moment he spotted Loki he broke into a grin, confident as ever.
They made jabs at each other about their helmets and their talents, the playful banter of two brothers belying the truth of their circumstance: one was about to be crowned king, the other relegated to second-best status permanently. Loki had never truly wanted to be king, but he had been raised to think it was a possibility. That knowledge alone had certainly appealed to him, even if it was clear now that his father had always intended for Thor to ascend the throne - whether he was suited to it or not.
And so, as he stood with Thor and the insidious beginnings of guilt began to form in his mind, he was able to push it aside, convinced that was he was doing was right.
Not just for him, but for all of Asgard.
Sigyn stood amongst the honored guests at the front of the throne room, her view perfect for watching the ceremony. She chatted politely with those around her, anxiously looking toward the back of the room every so often for any sign that the coronation was about to begin.
The crowd began to hush just as she glanced back once more, and this time she was rewarded with the sight of Loki and his mother hand in hand. They approached the throne, their comportment and bearing full of the easy confidence that only those born into royalty could ever truly have. It still astounded Sigyn to know that she - a minor nobleman's daughter - had captured the heart of a prince. She just hoped she had what it took to keep it.
They reached the foot of the stairs leading up to the dais where Odin sat, occupying the throne for the last time as king. His face was inscrutable, giving away nothing as his wife and youngest son bowed to him in reverence before taking their places of honor on the stairs.
As she watched, Loki turned her direction, his eyes immediately finding her in the crowd. He smiled broadly, and she knew she was going to have a difficult time taking her eyes off of him during the ceremony. The more she thought about it, the more she considered skipping the banquet after all. The sooner she could be back in his arms - doing whatever she could to convince him of her loyalty - the better.
Just before her thoughts turned completely scandalous, the crowd once again turned toward the back of the room, cheering loudly as the king-to-be made his way down through the dual rows of Royal Guards. He held Mjolnir aloft to the delight of the revelers, the glint of the metal matching the shine of his armor and helmet. He radiated confidence, bordering on arrogance, but his enthusiasm was infectious. The cheers only got louder until he stopped at the base of the stairs, the sound of Mjolnir hitting the floor echoing through the hushed hall as he knelt before his father.
Sigyn watched as Thor nodded to his friends Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun, perched on one side of the stairs, and then turned to his mother, brother and companion Sif. He winked at the female warrior, and his cheekiness earned a disapproving look from the Queen.
Watching his behavior, it was unsettling to think that maybe Loki was right - maybe Thor wasn't ready to lead Asgard - but it was much too late to do anything about it now. Sigyn knew that beneath Thor's rash and cocky exterior lay the heart of a king, ready to fight and die for the people he loved most dearly. She only hoped that Loki could temper Thor's boldness with calculation and cunning, ensuring it would never have to come to that.
Odin rose from the throne, striking Gungnir on the ground to quiet the last of the noise in the great hall. The silence was overwhelming, everyone straining to hear the words being spoken. There had not been a ceremony like this in most of these Asgardians' lives, and there would likely not be again for some time. Nobody wanted to miss a moment.
As Odin spoke, Sigyn was surprised to hear a softness in his voice, his words filled with pride and love for his firstborn son. Even so, it carried easily throughout the hall as he led Thor through the ceremony. He spoke of how Thor had been entrusted with Mjolnir - a fit companion to a King - and then through the oaths upon which Thor would pledge his commitment: to guard the Nine Realms, to preserve the peace, to cast aside all selfish ambition and pledge himself only to the good of the realm - Thor's I swear! getting louder with each declaration.
And then at last, the words they had waited so long to hear.
"I, Odin Allfather, proclaim you…"
He paused, the silence seeming to stretch on forever, and when he spoke again his words were the last anyone would have expected to hear.
"Frost Giants."
Sigyn barely had time to process what he had said when Gungnir came crashing to the floor again. The guests around her erupted in hushed bewilderment - did he say Frost Giants?…where?…are we under attack? - as she automatically sought Loki in the increasingly confused crowd.
She finally found him, huddled together with his father and Thor near the foot of the stairs, and as she fought to get closer to them she could hear the last of Odin's instructions to his sons.
"We must hurry. I've summoned the Destroyer, but there may be more."
They ran off before Sigyn could reach them, and she stopped, trying not to panic. She turned to find someone, anyone with answers, her eyes lighting on the Warriors Three and Sif.
"Lady Sif!" called Sigyn, hurrying to her side. "What's happened? Are we safe?"
"I'm not sure," replied Sif, her voice unnaturally calm in the growing chaos. "I don't know how, but it seems Frost Giants have attacked the weapons vault."
She continued to speak - something about the Jotuns trying to reclaim an ancient relic belonging to them - but Sigyn barely heard a word. Her eyes went wide in alarm as one thought kept running through her mind.
Frost Giants. In the weapons vault.
Edmund.