Loki listened to me talk about my home as though I were telling him one of the most incredible and interesting tales he'd ever heard. His attention never wavered, and he only spoke when I faltered - running thin on details or fading out and fearing that I was boring him - then he'd ask me a leading question, wanting to know MORE, always more.
"Why are you so curious about the tiny corner that I spent such a short time of my life in?" I'd earned a break - to refresh my dry throat and to study the prince that seemed so fascinated by me.
He leaned forward to refill the goblet I had once again emptied. "Because you long for it," his voice, I was learning, was both lyrical and concise. "Though you spent such a short time there, it holds a precious place inside of you, Sigyn." Our eyes met and his smile was soft - a new expression on a face that I was becoming more familiar with by the second. "So I wish to know more about it."
I wasn't sure how to - How would anyone respond to that? "I see," was all I could manage.
"Do you?" It didn't sound as challenging or laden with a dare as his other questions had.
"Our trip," a change of topic, I thought, bursting the tense bubble that would grow around us at unforeseen moments, was the best option. "When should I be prepared to leave?"
"Soon," he replied, not actually helpful, and he knew it when my eyes dropped to the table. "I want to be sure that you're ready. Prepared for -"
"What precisely are you so fearful of?" Looking up, I met his gaze full on. "It's not as if we're relocating, my prince. We'll be in Midgard for -" Actually, I had no idea how long we'd be gone for, Frigga hadn't mentioned the length of our trip.
His smile was the amused one I knew all too well. The one that clearly said 'you're nowhere near as clever as me, and we BOTH know it.' "Yes?" This question was definitely a challenge and a dare. How long were we to be gone, Sigyn? - was the undercurrent.
"Are we to pack everything and live among the Midgardians, Loki?" I tossed back at him. "If so, I do think we'll be in preparations for a rather long time. After all, I haven't a clue how to do -" I glanced around and shrugged. "Anything."
Loki's eyes were twinkling and his lips were twitching. "You really do think you're quite clever, don't you?"
"I KNOW I'm quite clever, actually." Leaning back, relaxed, I smirked at him. "You believe you are because you have access to information that I don't, that's not clever, that's just rude."
One perfect eyebrow arched, as he considered my words. "Oh really?" A curt nod was all I'd give him. "Your sharp tongue might just get you in a great deal of trouble one day, Lady Sigyn."
"Will it?" I asked, sitting up and staring him dead in the eye. "With the Midgardians?"
"Try closer to home." He leaned forward, his eyes flashing.
Head tilting, I hummed as I contemplated who he could POSSIBLY mean. "Do you think your mother would want to punish me, my prince?"
"I think you'd do well to worry more about who is right in front of you, Sigyn." I swallowed, not out of fear - the twist in my stomach didn't feel like fright at all. "Think carefully before you continue to press your luck."
Biting my lip, I watched his eyes flick down to catch the movement. "Luck?" Blue eyes met mine again. "Am I lucky, Loki?"
"Very," he murmured. "It's growing late -" that bubble, it could build and build until somehow even dusk wouldn't register. "Allow me to walk you back to your rooms."
By "allow me", Loki wasn't asking permission, he was giving me fair warning that he meant to accompany me and would be my very tall and substantial shadow - my new powers of self defense be damned. While we walked, he continued to draw out the conversation, without the underlying challenge and tension.
"Your hair is too heavy piled up," he'd noticed, no doubt when I nearly collapsed after he forced me through the exercises to learn how to defend myself. "Perhaps if you weave the braids you normally wear together," he was puzzling out a better option, and before I could give my own ideas - I felt my hair tumble loose. "There's so much of it -" we were still walking, but I glanced over and saw his hand rise, his fingers reaching out and then they were sliding through the strands. "It feels like silk, how can it be so heavy?"
"You could ask first," I wasn't angry, more amused by his curiosity. His eyes met mine and his smirk mirrored my own. "Silk can weigh a great deal if it comes in a bundle, my prince." His long fingers were still sliding through my hair. "Have you come to any conclusions as to how I should wear my hair while in Midgard?"
He didn't speak, but as we continued on, he seemed as though his mouth had gone dry - because I did see him lick his lips a time or two, even after he pulled his fingers free of my hair.
By the time we reached my rooms, we had also discussed how - once we arrived in Midgard - we could easily use illusion to change our attire to suit where we chose to tour. Since Frigga wanted the trip to be a gift for me - Loki told me that I was to tell him if I did not find any part we came across appealing and we'd leave.
"Mother wants you to enjoy yourself, Lady Sigyn." We had finally reached my rooms and a part of me wished we hadn't. "Since I've been there before, don't be shy, tell me how you find things and I'll adjust our tour accordingly."
"Frigga is too kind to me," I shook my head. "And thank you as well, Loki." He looked surprised by my gratitude. "You've been tasked with taking me to another realm - and we're practically strangers - after you took it upon yourself to keep me safe while I've been wandering all these years."
"Ah, that," he seemed to shake off my gratitude like it was nothing. "I - No need to -" He gestured to my door. "I'm sure you'd like to take one of your baths and prepare for your evening." He started to turn away, but I stopped him by touching his arm.
"Goodnight, my prince." Loki's eyes, so blue they almost glowed, met mine, and the soft flare of his nostrils made swallowing hard a necessity.
Jaw clenched so tight I thought for a moment I'd upset him, he murmured his own parting to me, "Sweet dreams, my lady."
