I couldn't settle after Loki parted from me at my rooms. My hair was still loose, the ache that had built from the weight of having it up for the entirety of our day was gone, and while I DID want to take a bath - my skin felt as though a current was running through it, my veins as if I had a jolt of pure energy - I wanted to DO something. Bathing, resting? Those things could come later, but now? Now I wanted to move or -
Loki had said learning how to handle the blades would mean that I could go where I pleased ALONE, and I had shown a natural aptitude, hadn't I? I glanced around my room and found nothing that would work for a hidden dagger - wait, I recalled a set of hair picks that my parents had given me during one of their visits - something my father mentioned picking up during one of his own trips outside Asgard.
I found them tucked away with the jewelry that Mother and Father seemed to toss at me every visit. Absently, as though they knew it was expected of them, but not quite sure why. Testing the points, I smiled - they would do well for my purposes. Another thought came to me, my smile growing - twisting half of my hair up, I used the picks to hold the twist in place - dual purpose weaponry - I felt certain that my teacher would approve. The thought of Loki added to the current in my blood - as if the garden beckoned to me with his voice.
The garden, even dappled in early evening darkness, was like balm for whatever was coursing through me and setting me on edge. Breathing in the air, letting the stillness that only seemed to exist here - in this garden - during the hours when night fell on Asgard, settled around me like a soft cloak; it was almost as relaxing as the warmth of "one of my baths".
I nearly missed the first hint of apples wrapped within the blossoming fragrance of jasmine and wearing leather and sandalwood as cover, were it not for that galbanum - "I'm beginning to think you actually enjoy my company," I didn't turn to greet him, not when I was soaking up the feeling of the night and the peace that I yearned for as deeply as I did for home.
"And I'm beginning to think that you don't listen to me at all," his voice, so very close, that the hint of his breath caressing the top of my head, past where I had my twisted, pinned knot, didn't startle me enough to cause a noticeable reaction. "You flirt with danger, Lady Sigyn."
"I'm armed, my prince," even as I spoke, I remained focused on the night sky. "I assure you, I listened to you and I took your lessons to heart."
I knew what was coming - as if here, in the garden, as he'd said he could almost hear me screaming at him to leave his intentions were amplified - I knew he planned to show me just how unprepared I was for an unprovoked attack. My hair picks were in my hands and at his throat even as his were against mine.
"Checkmate?" I asked, and his smile grew. "I did warn you that I was armed, Loki."
We sat on one of the benches, weapons tucked away, and once again found ourselves chatting.
"I'm impressed," reluctant and begrudgingly though it was offered, it was still a compliment, of sorts. "Where did you get your -" I had returned my hair ornaments turned weapons to their former place.
"My father brought them to me during a visit." He nodded. "You said I could go where I pleased once I learned -"
"That I did," again, reluctant and begrudgingly. "I'm still not comfortable with you going off on your own, Lady Sigyn." Confused, I waited for him to explain himself, but no explanation came. "Those -" he nodded at my picks, "will come in handy on Midgard." I smiled. "I will look into having others made."
"You needn't go to the trouble," I could have something commissioned. It wasn't as if I were without the means. "I can -"
"I will have something made," forceful and sure, discussion closed, his tone was clear. "I know a bit more about weaponry than you." He did, but it wasn't as if I would have gone to a jeweler instead of a blacksmith. "Never fear, I'll make sure they're pretty."
Narrowed eyes and thin lips, I stood up, the garden was losing its appeal. "I think I'm ready to go back in now."
"I've displeased you," instead of looking abashed, he looked amused. "Is it so wrong to want to give you a weapon that will keep you safe, yet also complement the beauty that it's being added to?" It happened again, the air appeared to have left - but we were still outside - how did he do that?
"You have a silver tongue," hushed and breathless, as though I had just gone through another round of his knife play exercises. "No wonder they simper and whisper when you walk past."
His smile grew, blue eyes twinkling in the dim light of the garden. "You still don't trust me," swallowing past the dryness that came so quickly when I was in his company, he stared up at me. "Have you ever actually seen me speak to any of these simpering and whispering ladies you keep alluding to?"
Squinting, I tried to recall - had I? "What does that matter?" Why was he - wasn't I leaving? "I should go -"
Loki was still grinning, and it kept growing. "Yes, you've said." And I had. "Yet, you don't seem to be moving in that direction." A challenge, a dare - and the bubble burst.
"You're correct, my prince." Happy to hear my voice was back to normal, my head high, I took a deep breath. "Good night, again." I turned away, but this time it was him who stopped me. A long fingered hand, touching my wrist, and I looked down - my heart pounding.
"I'll walk you back," not a question, not a suggestion or an offer - tucking the same hand that he'd stopped me by touching the wrist of in the crook of his arm - he once again chose a pace that was more fit for my stature than his. "I would prefer if you didn't wander alone, Lady Sigyn, even with your proficiency in -" he took a deep breath and said the one word he had never said in my presence - "please?"
