#threads; sigyn

closed starter for @menofmarvelx

"... Almighty Loki," the words came out in a breathy whisper, nearly lost amid the howling winds that swept across the empty stretch of fields in the quiet country side where her cottage was built. Her hands laid down the bottle of mead and the bouquet of wildflowers picked from her garden at the base of Odin's tree. "God of deception, father of Fenrir..." mumbled, barely audible words danced from her soft pink lips, humming her little prayer to the trickster God as she laid offerings at the outdoor altar. Sigyn sat on her knees in the grass, jeans littered with streaks of dirt, flower pollen, and grass stains. Her little white top crept up her ribcage as her arms moved to arrange her offerings for Loki. Her cardigan meant to keep her warm, but she hardly needed it as the fire burned inside her for the deity she'd sworn allegiance to. "I offer you mead from my kitchen, flowers from my garden, and my devotion to you, my God." Her words were carried off into the wind.

For as long as she could remember, the Ivarssons had been devout worshippers of the Norse Gods, never quite conforming to modern day religion as it would present itself in the years after Viking rule. Their roots traced back to those giant wooden ships and shields of armor, and never would the next generations be allowed to waver from what the old Vikings held steady. It still coursed through her blood, the shield maidens' courage and honor. To conform to modern worship would be to abandon her family, so Sigyn remained true.

But deep down, there brewed a little more within Sigyn. Whereas her family worshipped all Norse Gods, most prayed and offered to Odin, Thor, and Frigg. The blonde girl, the youngest sibling of her family, always gravitated towards the more mischievous of the deities. Perhaps there was something to be said for the wicked way her heart beat, and the sinister little giggles that escaped whenever she was up to no good. Whatever it was, it called for him, for Loki.

Sigyn fell back into the grass, letting the quiet of isolation settle around her with only the gentle whistling of the breeze wrapping around her. Her lashes would flutter closed, steady shallow breaths filling her lungs as her mind began to drift.