#thor ff

Had someone asked about the origins of their bond, each would have answered with a different moment when they thought it had started. In fact, it would have been rather impossible to pinpoint the very beginning of something in the making for so many years, something that the two people involved, in hindsight, had always seen coming, even though everyone else —with the sole exception of one person, perhaps— would have never in a thousand years guessed that a pair who quarreled as often as they did, who disagreed with each other as fervently as they did, could ever become romantically involved.

Sigyn never knew her father. Iwaldi was part of Odin's Guard, a fierce servant of Asgard and an extraordinary fighter— that was, at least, what her mother, Dagmar, had told her for all Sigyn knew for certain about him was that he had perished before Dagmar had even born her. He had met his wife at the Royal Palace of Valaskjalf, having been assigned to escort her to the Queen when she was sent from her home in Vanaheim to become her lady-in-waiting. Their daughter was born and raised in the same palace in which they had met and married. During the first years of her life, of which she remembered very little, Sigyn lived with her mother until an invasion of marauders struck Vanaheim just as Dagmar was there visiting relatives and the court lady was killed while she tried to defend her home.

After having learned that the only kin left alive that could take in the orphaned girl was an aunt barely old enough to become a mother herself, Frigga insisted that she remained in Asgard, where Sigyn was brought up by the court ladies that, while not related to her mother by blood, had somewhat become her family in bond in all the years they had coexisted while serving the Queen.

While thoroughly and actively grateful for Frigga's favor, being much aware of how blessed her childhood had been in spite of two specific moments of tragedy, Sigyn never considered herself a warden or a foster child of any kind. She had a privileged closeness to the Royal Family, so much was true, and she had indeed been brought up with luxuries and advantages that no ordinary subject of Asgard would normally receive; however, in terms of family, as the women who had helped raise her either retired or passed away from old age, Sigyn believed —though not melancholically— that she had none.

Many considered that having been raised in the midst of the Asgardian princes must have been an honor— to that, Sigyn usually replied that if they could have as much as a glance into her experience, they would not be as quick to congratulate her on that particular distinction.

Despite being considerably younger than the two boys, she had naturally fit into the role of peace-keeper, not because she had a calm demeanor or a talent for deescalating fights, but rather the opposite: if Thor and Loki were arguing over whose turn it was to wield a particular weapon during training, it was Sigyn who stepped in and snatched the weapon away from them so that neither could have it at all; if there was but one serving of ale left by the end of a banquet, which usually led to the two sons of Odin boastfully listing reasons why it was them who deserved it and not the other, Sigyn would drink the last serving herself.

Outside from playing that scolding almost maternal role whenever the boys quarreled, Sigyn's relationship to the God of Thunder was merely civil; they addressed each other respectfully —most of the times— but had never as much as stood in the same room together without other people present. The prince of Asgard with whom she had formed a much closer association was Loki.

The God of Mischief would forever gloat by claiming Sigyn had been infatuated with him since they were children, that the girl had always been visibly enamored with him. Sigyn would only respond to those comments with a scornful smirk, aware —and she knew he was as well— that if anything it had been the other way around. Admittedly, it had been Sigyn who had initiated their very first interaction, just the two of them, but only because she wished to put a theory to the test, a theory that suggested Loki would always adopt a nervous, almost bashful behavior whenever he addressed her, which he tried to conceal with indifference— there might have been a dash of wishful thinking involved, but Sigyn knew the dangers of letting Loki know he could be right, so she would never admit it.

One day out in the Palace's gardens, while Thor and his friends were vauntingly displaying their sword-fighting abilities, Loki sat in a remote corner, reading. Sigyn, being through with her lessons of the day and without anything better to do, took the liberty of approaching him, going as far as taking a seat right next to him.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Reading," answered the boy nonchalantly, eyes remaining on the page.

"Yes, I can see that."

"Then, why do you ask?"

"I meant, what are you reading?"

"A book," he replied, still not looking up from the page.

Sigyn rolled her eyes. "Which I hope, for your sake, is a book on making friends, you could certainly use it."

That comment caught Loki's attention at last; he glanced in front of him for a second and then turned his head to look at the girl who, quite pleased with her jibe, was smiling.

"It's a book of magic," he answered properly at last. "My mother is tutoring me in the art of Seidr, I figured I could do with some self-teaching of my own."

"I thought only women were able to practice Seidr."

Sigyn tilted her head in order to take a better look at the pages from which the boy was studying and, even though he sighed in the process, he lowered his book and turned it slightly towards her so they could read together.

"No. See, Seidr practitioners have always been mostly women. Since you cannot be born with these talents, only be taught them, it was far more likely that any man who possessed them had been instructed by a woman... which, I suppose, was seen as unmanly or something of the sort. Therefore, men often chose not to practice Seidr to avoid ridicule."

"That's idiotic."

Sigyn's abrupt and blunt honesty made the prince chuckle in spite of himself, which he tried to play off by clearing his throat, the tip of his finger beginning to toy with the corner of a page.

"Yes, I suppose it is."

"Have you learned to do any tricks yet?" wondered Sigyn out of sheer curiosity, apparently not concerned with the possibility that she might have been annoying the Prince. While they had exclusively interacted with one another in the presence of other people, Sigyn knew the boy enough to assume he would never turn down the opportunity of exhibiting his abilities, especially —although that detail in particular she would infer later in life— being a talent that his older brother did not possess.

"They're not tricks," protested the boy.

"What are they, then?" she asked with a cadence mockingly similar to his.

"It's the channeling of the spiritual realm and wielding its power in order to perform—"

"Tricks?"

Loki glared at her, all the while hoping he was successfully concealing the rebel half-smile he felt tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Illusions. Amongst other things."

"All right, well, in that case, have you learned to do any illusions yet?" She made particular emphasis on the term.

This time, the boy allowed himself to smile, however faintly, if only because he was rolling his eyes simultaneously. Straightening his back with purpose, he cleared his throat in preparation and held his hand out, palm facing the sky. From it emerged a single green spark, which shot up for just a few centimetres before dissolving in the air. Loki closed and withdrew his hand, visibly disappointed.

"I'm sorry," he said as he looked down at his book again, obviously looking for an excuse to avoid the girl's gaze. "That was supposed to be fireworks."

Sigyn, far from being unimpressed, was beaming. "I liked this better, actually," she commented to her companion's surprise. "Did you make it green on purpose?"

Still a little flustered, for he had been expecting mockery rather than genuine interest, Loki stammered momentarily before he answered.

"Oh, no. I'm not... exactly sure how it manifests, I suppose it would have to depend on who channels that energy or where in the spiritual realm it comes from."

"You are not still blabbering on about magic, brother, are you?" came Thor's taunting voice from afar. "Have you so little faith in your physical prowess you're turning to tricks in a feeble attempt to match mine?"

"Careful, brother," warned Loki as his eyes once again lowered to his book. "I've taught you the meaning behind most of those elegant words myself and, if I remember correctly, you've only got a few left, you might not want to compress so many of them in just the one sentence."

"Look at where all those elegant words have got you, Loki!" laughed his brother as he pointed towards him with his sword. "Isolated in a tedious library, having private lessons with Mother, instead of being out here becoming the warrior a Prince of Asgard ought to be!"

"Well, excuse me for finally giving Mother a son with the actual ability to read. Or is being an utter oaf another thing a Prince of Asgard ought to be?"

After that, it only took seconds for the confrontation to become physical; fortunately, by then, Sigyn had already left her seat and made her way towards the nearest guard whose attention she immediately brought to the altercation.

"Boys!" came the Queen's warning from above them and when the two Princes looked up, they found their mother looking down at them from her balcony.

Her presence alone was enough to put an end to the fight, although the boys did purposely shove each other a few more times as they pretended to lean upon each other for support while getting on their feet. Frigga demanded they met with her at once and, clearly foreseeing a reprimand, her sons sighed heavily, parting side by side to oblige.

"Well, last time she told on me, so this’d better be about you," muttered Loki under his breath, recalling that Sigyn had very recently used that strategy in order to punctuate another confrontation between the two brothers.

"You cannot honestly believe this is as bad as what you did last time."

"Oh, for goodness sake, brother, I thought it was I who was known for being theatrical..."

"You stabbed me!"

"What kind of a mighty warrior stumbles at the first superficial injury?"

The following interaction between Sigyn and Loki alone was, surprisingly enough, originated by him when he approached her to hand her the very book he had been reading that day. Having already studied it himself and since she had shown interest in the subject of magic, he offered to lend it to her. Far from being something that had resulted in giving them something in common, every time they discussed that book, or magic in general, the two only quarreled, disagreed on which magical ability had more merit, or on the ways in which said abilities should be used or to what purpose— Anyone would have argued that since they hardly ever saw eye to eye, they would have grown apart; however, each week that passed, it seemed like the pair spent longer and longer portions of their day simply arguing, eventually branching away from the topic that had brought them together in the first place, moving on to discuss countless other subjects.

“Ok.” You shook out your limbs trying to loosen them up and shake away all the bad vibes. “Here goes nothing.” You whispered. You turned the knob of your dorm room door and stepped out into the hall.

The corridor in which your dorm sat was empty. You continued on your way, letting your feet be your guide. You thought for a second that your heart may stop when you saw Thor approaching your direction. You weren’t particularly close with Thor. He seemed to come and go from earth at random. This made it difficult but not impossible to build any sort of rapport with him.

“[Y/N]!” He smiled broadly and gave an excited wave when you were within five feet.

“Thor.” You managed to mumble with a polite nodded of recognition. Your right shoulder brushed his left as you passed each other in the hall. Coward. You thought to yourself. “Damn it.” You whispered.

“What’s was that?” Thor turned around, his impeccable hearing not missing a single syllable. You closed your eyes and breathed out a long breath before facing him.

“Can I talk to you about something?” You asked him.

“Anything!” He agreed instantly.

“Oh, ah, okay. I have decided, well, not really decided, it’s not something you decided it’s who I am…Who I’ve always been…” You fumbled.

“You seem distressed, [Y/N].” Thor frowned. “What is it that troubles you?”

“Right.” You began to wring your hands together uncomfortably. You inhaled another deep breath and exhaled. “I have come to the realization that I am attracted to…”

“Oh, [Y/N],” Thor interrupted you. “I am flattered but you see I don’t think that you and I…”

“What?” You shook your head. “No, no, no I’m not attracted to you! I was trying to tell you I am bisexual.”

“Oh, that’s all?” Thor asked with a booming laugh. Your eyes fell to the floor. “Do not miss understand me [Y/N].” He said, causing you to look back up. “I forgot how delicate this subject can be for Midgardians. You see on Asgard these matters are much less rigid. Love is love as they say. Humans are so afraid of being different that you forget it’s what makes you special. It’s very brave of you, to know yourself so well.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it brave.” You disagreed. “I could barely say it. You’re the first person I’ve told.”

“Ah, but you wanted to say it. That’s what counts.” He told you. “It’s never easy telling the world who you are. There will be some who will deny you and say that you’re not enough. Do not believe them, [Y/N]. You must always stand tall and proud, for there will never be another [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. You carve your own legacy.” Thor clapped you on the shoulder and smiled.

“Thank you, Thor.” You couldn’t help but smile back. His energy was infectious.

“You let me know once you’ve told the others. We’ll have a grand celebration in your honor, alright?” He said.

“Sure thing.” You nodded.

“I must go now, but [Y/N], please do not hesitate to ask if I can ever be of assistance.” With a confident wink, Thor moved down the hall, continuing whatever he’d been doing before you stopped him.

For the rest of their childhood and part of their youth, their relationship was limited to an intellectual rivalry, which consisted in disagreements involving witty sneers and taunts with the occasional genuine argument that would teach them both about each other's boundaries. In time, Sigyn learned that bringing up certain topics —chiefly Loki's relationship with his brother and father— was out of the question; Loki, in turn, learned that nothing displeased Sigyn more than having her thoughts and feelings assumed for her, as though she had no mind of her own. Despite having never formally agreed on it, they each had separately decided to respect those boundaries, avoiding at all costs mentioning them, never mind how heated their discussions.

Eventually, when they were both of age, the nature of their relationship made a subtle shift. Since the turning points in their bond were yet another topic on which Loki and Sigyn would never see eye-to-eye, they each had their own version of which had been the moment when the dynamic between them seemed to have changed, although these moments happened quite around the same time.

The first one occurred just after a visit to Nidavellir by the All Father, the very first visit outside of Asgard in which the King had brought both his sons along. Originally, the trip was meant to be merely diplomatic; however, as it usually did, the situation turned confrontational and a battle erupted. Before their departure, Sigyn had jokingly advised Loki to try and not get himself killed while in the other realm; after Loki had boastfully remarked that she appeared to be genuinely concerned about his well-being, the young woman had rolled her eyes, commenting that perhaps he should not try too hard, on second thought. With that in mind, upon hearing that the King and Princes had barely made it back to Asgard with their lives, within her rose the superstitious fear that having released that wish —however insincere— into the universe might have had something to do with that.

The moment she had overheard of their miraculous escape and return to their realm, Sigyn had dashed off in search for anyone who could provide her with further information, something or someone that could reassure her they were indeed back safe and sound, having only displeasing memories to lament at worst. Just as she was on the verge of making a turn on a corridor, she heard a roaring voice that stopped her in her tracks and Sigyn walked back a few steps to conceal herself behind a column.

It was Odin, lambasting his younger son who, from what Sigyn could hear, wasn't able to get a word in edgewise.

"Have you any sense of what you could have cost us?" yelled the King. "Have you any regard for the consequences of your actions and how they might affect the rest of us, or do you think only of yourself?"

"Father, I—"

"Enough!"

Even Sigyn flinched at the harshness of the command.

"Enough... Hiding behind excuses and blaming your brother for everything, that's a boy's reaction. A Prince worthy of the name would admit his faults, and what's more, take responsibility!"

Loki did not retort. Instead, he hardened his countenance, straightening his back to adopt a more dignified stance but still keeping his head respectfully bowed while linking his hands behind his back.

"Yes, Father."

There was a pause. Sigyn dared to poke her head out of her hiding spot ever so slightly just so she could catch a glimpse of the conversation.

"Not a word to your Mother. To hear of the wicked use you've given to the wonderful talents she's taught you... it would break her heart."

Odin walked away and even though Loki did not seem to have moved at all, the state in which that exchange had left him made Sigyn contemplate, if only for a second, approaching him. After second thought, she came back to her senses and decided the best to do was walk away instead.

"I expect you've enjoyed the show."

The suddenness with which the God of Mischief had addressed her made her gasp in startle, and when she turned on her heel, she found him turned towards her.

"Oh... I'm sorry. I was only—"

"Eavesdropping."

"No!" protested Sigyn in her defense. "No, I was merely looking for you, I wasn't trying to..."

"Looking for me?"

"I..." She paused for a beat, glancing away in thought. Visibly nervous, she began to stumble upon her own words, very rapidly changing her mind every time she made a statement and rapidly shaking her head as she corrected them. "No, not actively looking for you, I wasn't looking for you per se, I was only... I heard you were injured. Or could be injured. Or not... injured, precisely." She took a deep breath. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right. All of you, that is..."

Under different circumstances, perhaps, Loki would have actually enjoyed testing his counterpart's nerves, and Sigyn had to admit she was somewhat relieved he did not fixate on her agitation.

"Right," he simply answered, hands still linked behind his back as he turned to walk away.

"For what it's worth!" Sigyn called out before she could help herself and when the Prince turned back around, she began to tentatively approach him as she finished her idea. "I know I'm not the King or the All Father but... to be perfectly candid, I don't see what all the fuss is about."

Loki's brow furrowed. "You don't."

"By the sound of it, you've simply made a mistake."

He scoffed. "There was nothing simple about it, it almost cost us our lives."

"All right, granted, that's... less than ideal."

"I should hope so."

"But it didn't," Sigyn insisted with a faint shrug of her shoulders. "All there's left to do now is take responsibility and learn from it to make sure it never happens again."

"Oh, that's all, is it?"

Sigyn glanced sideways, hesitating for a moment before nodding her head. "Yes," she responded as-a-matter-of-factly. "If there is anything you're proficient in, that is learning— Compared to learning magic, learning from your own mistakes shouldn't prove to be much of a challenge."

Now that her restlessness had dissipated enough that she could look him in the eye again, she was pleased to see that he appeared to be no longer frowning, having adopted just a smidge of his usual cool demeanor.

"See, I cannot remember ever asking for your opinion," he teased.

"Oh, I'm aware. That's what I'm proficient in, you see, knowing when my opinion will be appreciated even when it hasn't been requested."

They both nodded their heads in feigned comprehension until Sigyn felt a smile betraying her, taking over her features despite her efforts to withhold it. Loki's gaze was anchored on hers, and while it took her a couple of attempts to hold it, she eventually gazed back.

"What?"

"Nothing," he replied.

"If there's something on your mind, by all means..."

"There's nothing on my mind," Loki insisted.

"There's nothing on your mind," she echoed amusedly. "Quite so, I agree."

"Hard to believe considering how two seconds ago you were praising my learning abilities."

"I was only trying to make you feel better, we are well past that by now."

"You know, I do wonder who it is you believe you're fooling with such frail arguments, you are in fact quite transparent..."

Sigyn rolled her eyes, with a hint of amusement still curling the corner of her mouth. "Apparently, nearness to death has rendered you by no means less obnoxious. Goodbye, your Highness."

"Off so soon?"

It was her turn to tease, turning her head to look back at him from over her shoulder as she walked away. "I must be misunderstanding because I could swear it sounds as if you'd like me to stay."

"You are indeed misunderstanding, I was merely taken aback you are in such a rush to leave after all the trouble you went through looking for me."

Sigyn rolled her eyes. "Goodbye, your Highness."

A few weeks went by before the second moment took place, the moment the other half of the pairing argued was the one which in fact marked the turning point in their dynamic. After a particularly energetic training session, at least on her part, during which Sigyn insisted on pushing her own limits, a blow to the face resulted in the skin right above her eyebrow splitting. She had retired to the armory, where she had taken a seat before a particularly shiny shield, making the most out of its curvature by placing herself in a way that her reflection was augmented precisely on her eyebrow. Using a cloth to occasionally dab away the blood, a needle and a piece of thread, she began tending to her own wound. After all, that was not an unusual sight to find within the armory.

"What... exactly are you doing?" came Loki's voice out of nowhere, the voice of someone who, apparently, did indeed find the sighting unusual.

"You don't startle someone while they've got a needle near their eye!" Sigyn barked at his reflection on the shield before resuming her task, hissing each time she poked at her own skin.

Loki handed his own weapons to a helpful servant who had rushed to assist him, so evidently used to being attended to that he did not even need to take his eyes off Sigyn as he surrendered his daggers.

"You do know you would be much better off visiting a healer..."

"I don't need a healer, it's barely a nick," she replied, her tone still rather irked. "It'll be healed in a matter of hours, I'm only looking to... accelerate the process."

"I see," remarked the Prince and upon seeing the reflection of his faint smirk on her improvised mirror, Sigyn turned her head to look at him over her shoulder.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

The God of Mischief raised his eyebrows, nonplussed by the maiden's very noticeable pique.

"I was only making an assumption," he argued in his favor, raising a hand as an unconscious gesture to prove he meant no harm. "Tonight's banquet? In honor of the Vanir visitors?"

"I'm not going," Sigyn stated, turning her head back to keep on tending to her wound.

"You're not going."

"That is what I said, is it not?"

Loki stood still for a few seconds as he debated internally whether it was wisest to offer some help or to simply make himself scarce, like Sigyn's attitude appeared to suggest. Having made up his mind, he sighed, moving to take a seat beside her to take over.

"Give me that."

"I'm doing just fine, thank you!"

"You're doing a ghastly job!" he disagreed. "Those stitches are awfully tight, so unless you want to spend eternity looking quizzical, please, allow me."

With a huff of resignation, Sigyn surrendered the needle and allowed her counterpart to undo the little work she had done herself so he could start over. Throughout the entire process, she kept her gaze fixed elsewhere, more specifically a faint stain on the opposite wall which was, of course, by no means interesting, but did serve the purpose of giving her something else to look at besides the man seated before her. Loki, meanwhile, worked in silence, every now and again holding his gaze to try to make her stare back, only to surrender and continue closing her injury.

"How are your hands so cold in this weather?" she complained, her voice coming out much closer to a whisper than she had intended.

"What can I say?" he replied. "I must be cold-blooded."

"It would explain a lot."

Loki laughed, momentarily pausing to take the cloth from her to clean away some of the blood off the cut, and Sigyn could have sworn the main reason behind his chuckling had not been amusement but merely the intention to antagonize her.

"What?"

"If you want an invitation to tonight's festivities, you could just say so."

"For your information, I have been invited," she asserted.

"Oh, is that right?" he challenged with a mocking smile.

"Yes. It is."

"Then, why, if I may ask, will you not be attending?"

"No, you may not ask, because it is none of your business." She snatched the needle away from him, determined on finishing the job herself rather than continuing to delay it any further. "Nevertheless, I suppose I should know better than to be surprised you are so fixated on tonight. Won't it be the perfect opportunity to rekindle your affair?"

Loki paused.

"If you are referring to Svend..."

"Oh, so he admits it," commented Sigyn cheerfully to a non-existent third party.

"I would not necessarily describe it as an affair..."

"How else would you describe a purely physical relationship with no feelings involved whatsoever?"

Again he paused, this time to smile delightfully, much to Sigyn's aversion.

"Is that the reason why?"

Sigyn finished tying a knot after having applied the last stitch over her eyebrow. "Seeing as I physically cannot roll my eyes at you at the moment, do me a favor and imagine it."

The Prince of Asgard picked up a knife stored away nearby and used it to cut the remaining end of the thread. Using the cloth still in his hand, he gently dabbed at the closed wound a few more times.

"Is that the reason why?" he wondered in a much serener tone, all traces of mirth washed away from his features.

"You must think I hold you in much higher a regard than I actually do," she replied, earning herself a sigh from her companion.

"Then, what is?"

"Why are you being so obsessive over this?" she complained, rushing to get on her feet so she could walk away.

"As a matter of fact, the question should be why are you being so evasive over this?," he retorted, rushing himself so he could cut her off by standing in front of her.

Sigyn crossed her arms over her chest and for several seconds two of the most stubborn people on Asgard stood their ground, both refusing to be the first one to break the silence. The longer the pause, the more annoyed she became that Loki was practically forcing the information out of her, for she realized he would not let the matter go until she had given him a remotely sincere response. Moreover, the fact that he could recognize when she was not being sincere only irritated her even further.

"A relative of mine will be there," she confessed at last, taking advantage of the other's surprise to finally push past him and walk away.

Truth of the matter was that her sole relative left alive, her aunt who had been too young to take her in as a child, would be present that evening for she had married into Vanir royalty. Back when Sigyn had first become of age, she contacted her relative in Vanaheim, inviting her to reconnect now that she could not be burdened with the responsibility of raising her. Despite having been reassured that her letters had made it into her hands, she never received a response.

"How is that not an incentive to attend?" Loki asked as he caught up behind her.

"How is that suddenly any of your business?"

"Sigyn—"

Having run out of patience at last, the maiden swiveled towards him abruptly. "What?" she snapped, positively fed up with his insistence. "What do you want me to say? Why would you, of all people, care?"

The Prince hesitated. "I—"

"No!" she punctuated him, holding up a hand in front of him. "Actually, that was rhetorical: You don't care. You still believe this is somehow related to you and to how you think I am besotted with you like all of those witless visitors you charm into your bed, but it's not! However shocking this might sound to you, not everything is about you. And this certainly is not."

She regretted her outburst the instant it had left her lips and when she turned to walk away again, she had to actively withhold tears, partly of anger, mostly for having allowed said anger to get the best of her, causing her to lash out at people who hadn't wronged her. Admittedly, however, she was relieved not to hear the Prince's steps behind her anymore —she suspected he had stayed behind or else walked away in the opposite direction— since the only rational solution she could think of at the moment for her harsh nature was to isolate herself until she had appeased.

For the rest of the afternoon, that was exactly what she did. She stayed in her chambers and tried to distract herself with books —which was hopeless, for she could not possibly concentrate on linking as much as two sentences together before her consciousness inadvertently diverted to other, much more unpleasant matters—, occasionally looking into a mirror to corroborate that Loki's work on her stitches had indeed been much tidier in comparison to the last few she had done herself.

All day she had been consumed by the one irksome detail that was keeping her from attending that night's event, and the rest of it had dragged by while she distressed herself remembering how she had lashed out at quite literally the only person who had realized something was the matter with her and had taken a genuine interest in her. Almost as if she had subconsciously summoned some confort to her dismay, there was a knock at her door, which Sigyn found curious; it wasn't the knock itself which had caught her attention, but rather the silence that followed, since usually it was the guards who knocked and they hardly ever waited for approval before they opened the door themselves. She, therefore, stepped in to answer and on the other side, she found the younger son of Odin, dressed in ceremonial attire, save for his helmet which he was currently cradling in one arm.

"If your vanity weren't so well-fed already, I might be tempted to comment that you look rather dashing," she commented, allowing herself a cheeky half-smile.

Caught by surprise by his own reaction, Loki slightly lowered his head in order to conceal his grin.

"How may I be of service, your Highness?" Sigyn went on, smiling warmly as she extended him some sense of protocol to hold onto and on which to base himself when trying to decide on how to address her.

"I, uh..." He cleared his throat. "I believe you're owed an apology."

The maiden raised her eyebrows, inviting him to go on.

"I've spoken with the Queen," he confessed, which was all Sigyn needed to correctly assume that he knew the reason behind her absence that evening. "In which case, I suppose that would make it two apologies you're owed. One for having pestered you earlier and a second for... further investigating the matter behind your back later on."

They exchanged a smile.

"Well, you are owed a few apologies yourself," she admitted. "I'm aware it's hardly an excuse, but I'm simply... not used to people taking an interest in me. Or rather... there are no people in my life to take an interest in me in the first place. Which, again, I realize it's no excuse..."

"I suppose," Loki punctuated her, still keeping his gaze down while he plucked up the courage to go on. "I could have been more evident about what my sincere intensions were."

"Which would be...?" Sigyn wondered and finally, the Prince found it in him to look up at her at last.

"That I do care," he declared. "You may not consider me your friend, but I consider you mine. Perhaps the only one I've got."

"I consider you mine as well," she reassured him with a gentle smile and Loki responded in kind.

"I don't suppose there's anything I could say to convince you to join us regardless," he endeavored after a few moments of silence. "Right," he whispered after the maiden had nodded her head. "And you do understand I rather have to attend..."

"You are relieved, your Highness," she replied with a bright, enlivened smile.

"I wish you a good evening," he answered just as elegantly before they exchanged playful curtsies.

"Do give Svend my best," she called out after him.

"Not before I give him mine," replied the Prince as he walked away.

"You're disgusting!" she protested even though she was still smiling.