”Do not let her father see you here, my son,” Frigga said gently, rounding the corner in the long corridor. Despite her gentle tone, Loki had startled. His mother was one of the very few people who knew how to sneak up on him. He eyed her as she approached him and let his hand drop from the door he’d had his cheek pressed to only moments ago. “After your indiscretion the other day, being found here could be disastrous for you.”
“I am a prince,” he replied coolly. “There is little he can do to me.”
“Arrogance is not becoming on you, Loki,” she said with a maternal firmness that made him cringe. “He retains the right to deny you his daughter’s hand.”
“He would not risk angering father. The pompous ass values his position as his advisor too much.”
Frigga’s hand was firm on his shoulder and again he cringed, refusing to meet her gaze.
“Loki, your father would honor whatever Sigyn’s family chose, especially if it was born out of your folly.”
Loki knew his mother was right. In the past year, he had learned that his title meant nothing when Odin was making decisions out of honor and duty. He’d lost too much already, and was not willing to risk his bride-to-be as well, but he needed to be with her. He didn’t want to sleep alone tonight. He couldn’t.
“It is only another fortnight before you can be with her always, my son,” Frigga’s soft urging came. Her dark eyes were filled with understanding and sympathy that he found he could not face. “Please let your chaperoned visits be enough until then. For your sake.”
He did not look to her again and she kissed his brow, then moved silently down the corridor, leaving him staring at the floor. He sighed softly and again his hands came up to touch the ornately carved door, his forehead pressed against it as if he could just melt right through it. Technically, he could if he chose to spend that much energy on such an advanced spell. Even if he wanted to, he was too exhausted and might get himself stuck in the door, which would be thoroughly embarrassing. Still, he wanted to be close to the girl on the other side. He knew she was sound asleep and that didn’t matter to him. He wanted to touch her smooth skin, breathe in the sweet smell of her, hold her soft body in his arms. If he was honest, he wanted the comfort of her.
It had been nearly a year since his son, Jormungandr had been exiled immediately after his mother’s death. Loki had never stopped to think of how powerful his offspring with the sorceress, Angrboda, could be. Of course, he’d hardly realized his own potential until he’d met her. Overlooking this had cost him though. Jormungandr was now confined to the seas of Midgard, trapped in the form of a great serpent. His older brother, Fenrir had been exiled recently as well. His sons harbored so much anger over their mother’s murder, and though Fenrir had tired to control it, he’d succumbed to the hatred. His daughter Hel was all he had left of his brood with Angrboda, and even her future was uncertain. She was so sickly lately; frail and fragile that even the gentlest touch bruised her and it scared him.
Loki slid to the floor, his knees colliding with the polished surface hard enough to send pain racing up his thighs. He was uncertain what to do for Hel, a feeling of helplessness seizing him. He hated feeling this powerless, but what more could he do? Again a feeling of intense need to be with his fiancéwashed over him. She made him feel powerful, strong, in perfect control of everything. Things were peaceful when she was near. She was his confidante, his voice of reason, the refuge he felt safest in. He loved her, intensely, could not live without her. He realized that during his marriage to Glut. He’d spent years away from Asgard during his political marriage and had found those years lonely and unsatisfying. He’d filled the time by studying magic and sorcery more devoutly than he thought previously possible, learning from the greatest sorcerers in the realms, including the mistress he’d taken before his betrothal to the Fire Goddess. True, he’d fathered his twin daughters, who he loved very much, in that union but he and Glut had had little in common. She had been smitten with him and frankly, beyond what she could do for him in bed, he just didn’t feel the same. She was a duty of his title to him and nothing more. He’d missed his home, his friends, his brother, and Sigyn, who was practically his shadow, so rarely had they been seen apart. He knew that had been arranged by her family in an attempt to force her into marrying either him or Thor, but she had never acted like she was befriending him out of duty to her family. In fact, when she was old enough to understand her obligation to her family, she’d continued on with an innocence that he found intriguing. She wasn’t like other girls who fawned over him and Thor.
Sigyn was all softness and grace. Oh, he knew first hand that under her sweet demeanor, she had a righteous temper and he pitied anyone foolish enough to spark it. As a friend, she had always spoken to him plainly, listened intently, kept his secrets, and defended him with passion when she thought he was treated unfairly. She had many strong opinions and a fiery disdain for the shallowness of court life. She longed for simpler things, prone to dismissing the servants to do things for herself. She was also quiet, choosing to keep her thoughts to herself until asked of them, though he could hardly think of a time that they weren’t chattering ceaselessly with each other. He wasn’t one for lengthy conversations normally, but he desired to discuss and debate with her. She was intelligent, having the same burning thirst for knowledge that he did. The difference between them though was where he greedily devoured information, she approached it all with a child-like curiosity that he found endearing. She was rather adept at sorcery herself, though she was hardly a match for Amora. Sigyn’s talent lay mostly in healing but she was eager to learn whatever he was willing to teach her. It was a slow process but he admired the effort she put forth.
It had hurt him deeply to learn of her betrothal to simple warrior. Sure, the Crimson Hawks were the elite warriors of the realm, his father’s personal guard, but still not good enough for Sigyn, he thought. He regretted hurting her so deeply, killing her fiancé to free her up for himself, but he could not and would not tolerate the idea of her beauty, talents and intellect being wasted on someone as simple as Theoric. She deserved something more stimulating, more fulfilling. She deserved him and everything that came with such a union. But again, if he were to be honest, a great deal of his reasoning came from his refusal to allow anyone else to touch her. It was pride and vanity and selfishness that drove his actions. Sif had argued that if he had truly loved Sigyn, he would have let her be with Theoric. But how could he when he knew the truth of her heart? He knew she wasn’t happy in the arrangement that her parents had made, offering her up to the highest bidder, like cattle. He was probably the last person to have feelings about how the young ladies of the court were treated by overly ambitious men, but Sigyn was different. It probably stemmed from her intense hatred of being treated thus that spurred him on to change her situation and give her what he knew she truly desired. And again, his own need to have her.
It amazed him that despite how much she truly hurt over Theoric’s death, she had pushed it all aside for him. He knew she’d cared for the brute as she was expected to, but in the whirlwind of events following his death, he’d only seen her mourn once. And that was how he knew how fierce her temper could be. He’d seen her lash out at Sif many times in their youth, but never at him. It was a frightening thing to experience, though he’d never admit it to her or anyone else. He hadn’t blamed her, of course. She’d spent so much time pushing her grief aside to be there for him. In the wake of him murdering Theoric, Angrboda had been wrongfully blamed for it and Jormungandr had been exiled. Fenrir and Hel had been brought to the palace and he’d been dealing with being a father to a very angry adolescent and a toddler who didn’t understand what was happening around her. And then, Hel started becoming weaker, frail, wasting away and Fenrir’s rage grew more uncontrollable. Sigyn had been good natured about it, helping him where she could, always with a smile, never giving any hint that she was mourning.
It was when Fenrir lost control and changed into the great wolf that he decided he the must make Sigyn his wife, no matter the cost. He had been forced to watch Fenrir’s binding, some sick punishment cooked up to remind him of the dangers of lust and folly. It had been painful for him to watch and if Sigyn hadn’t been there with open arms, he wasn’t sure Tyr would have left with his life. Oh yes, Tyr was lucky that he only lost his hand that day. It had startled Loki how well Sigyn could read him, as if he was an open book to her. She anticipated his reactions, his emotions with such accuracy before he’d even had them that he had to wonder, later, if she had telepathic gifts that he was unaware of. In the moment though, he had been beside himself with sorrow and anger and barely able to contain it within himself. When it was all over, she’d held him for hours while he purged himself of the bitter tears and regrets the whole ordeal had inspired. She’d sat quietly on the hard floor of the stables where he’d collapsed and stroked his hair, listening intently to him, her teal eyes never wavering from his face. He’d clung to her as if she was the only thing keeping him anchored, nuzzled into the softness of her body and eventually fell asleep in the warm comfort of her. To his amazement, she risked trouble to stay with him through the night and he woke to her smiling softly at him. She had looked utterly exhausted, but he was touched that she had remained and had apparently kept watch over him. He’d only slept so soundly once before, and that time too had been in her arms.
He desired her for many reasons. Aside from being his most trusted friend and lifelong companion, and all the endearing personality traits he’d come to appreciate, the most important thing to him was how she treated his offspring. Sigyn and Glut never got along. The two women actually hated each other, Glut constantly trying to get a rise out of Sigyn. Despite this, Sigyn had treated Eisa and Einmyra like the princesses they were, often taking the time to join Thor in playing with them. When it came to his children with Angrboda, it was because of her that they were brought to Asgard. The memory of her huddled in the snow, protecting Hel was still fresh in his mind. Sigyn had acted when he had been struck dumb by Angrboda’s death and as far as he was concerned, probably saved their lives. In the face of Fenrir’s growing malice towards everyone and everything, she had remained unflinchingly understanding. She was able to hold on to a time when Fenrir and Jormungandr wanted her to tell them stories of his own youth and ignored insults spat venomously at her. Most touching of all, though it irked him in the moment, was her refusal to allow him to punish Fenrir for his abusive treatment of her.
Her most interesting relationship when it came to his children had to be with his eldest son, Sleipnir. Sigyn was one of the few who knew the truth of the stallion’s birth and she’d been present in his life since the day he was born. She was the only person, aside from himself and Odin, whom Sleipnir allowed on his back and she spent a great deal of time spoiling him. When he returned from Vaneheim to annul his marriage to Glut, Sleipnir had told him of her spending hours in the meadow with him, conversing, napping and just keeping him company. Loki had been stunned by Sigyn’s overall maternal instinct that seemed to overpower any hurt she felt over him being with anyone that wasn’t her. The thought of how well she’d do mothering their future children caused a stirring in his loins that made him groan.
Loki sighed, attempting to think of something else that would keep him from wanting to be with her even more than he already did. Certainly, thinking on all the things he loved about her wasn’t helping his desire. He figured he should probably get off the floor, as being seen in such a manner was rather unbecoming of a prince. In fact, this whole situation was and it bothered him that she had such power over him. He convinced himself that it was merely because he was hurting over Fenrir’s exile and felt that she was the only who could understand. He refused to give himself over entirely to his heart and the idea of love. Oh, he did not deny that love was involved, for he knew he loved Sigyn. But he did not want to think it was capable of enslaving him so completely. He wanted to think he had more control than that, even if it only took one look from her to bring him to his knees, ready to give her the world if she desired it.
He heard her make a sound in her sleep and he had to bite his lip to keep himself in check. He needed to leave before he did something stupid. Perhaps a midnight ride to the shore would help. But then, he noticed the gap under the door, just large enough for a small rodent to squeeze under. The gears in his mind started turning and he grinned mischievously. He checked the corridor, casting his senses out to ensure he was alone, pleased to find he was. If a rodent could get in, why not a snake?
Loki centered himself, breathing deeply as he allowed the magic within him to carry him into the change. It was always an uncomfortable experience, changing his form and he avoided it as much as possible. But the thought of what lay beyond for him made it so much easier. Before long, all that remained of him was a large emerald -colored snake. He slithered easily toward the door, unsure he would actually be able to slide under it. It took some work, but he finally managed it.
Sigyn’s chambers were dark, the fire having died down to nothing but embers some time ago. He silently navigated the floor easily, finding her bed and sliding up into it. She was on her back, much to his delight and wore only a light sleeping gown that ended at her knees, though it was hiked up a fair bit, revealing milky thighs that he honestly could not wait to settle between. He nosed his way up under the night dress, past her feminine warmth, which was hard to resist, and slid up her torso, scales to skin. She was warm and it felt so irresistibly and deliciously good.
He stopped his upward climb of her when his head found her throat, his forked tongue flicking out and tasting her. He settled there, dragging the rest of his long body to settle on her torso and between her supple breasts. She shifted, as he expected she would, waking slightly at the coolness of him. He nuzzled under her chin, hissing softly, the only sound of contentment he was capable of in this form.
“Loki,” she asked as fingers came to touch him and again he nuzzled her. “You shouldn’t be here.”
He was confident that she wouldn’t make him leave as her fingers continued to stroke him. He needed this and so much more. Aside from her hand on him, she was still and he wondered if she would sleep again. He took the moment to marvel at how lucky he was to have her. Any other woman would have screamed by now both for the serpent in her bed and intrusion of him slipping under her clothing.
“If you insist on staying, get out of my clothes and be yourself. I’d rather your arms than scales.”
Loki could barely contain his excitement as he slipped from under her night dress to the bed beside her, though he loathed leaving that warmth. He was hardly back to himself before he was pulling her close, claiming her lips greedily. She answered with her own hot kisses, tolerating him for only moments before she pushed him away.
“Loki,” she said with warning.
“Apologies,” he sighed, settling back into the pillows.
“What are you doing here,” she asked, gently. “If you are caught…”
“Your father could call off the entire engagement, I know.”
“Is it Hel?”
“When is it not,” he sighed. “I do not know how to help her. I cannot hold her when she cries without harming her. She does not smile anymore either. Not since Fenrir…”
Loki heard her shift and he glanced at her to find her reaching for him. He went easily into Sigyn’s arms, his head resting on her chest as she ran her fingers through his hair. The sound of her heart beneath her breast was calming, comforting, but still the tears sprang into his eyes, hot and angry.
“It’s not fair,” he growled, clinging to her. “My children suffer for things they cannot help. I should be allowed to teach them, to help them….I should…”
Sigyn arms were tight around him as he dissolved into uninvited sobs. She held him, patiently as he gave into this moment of weakness. He knew this was the one place he could. She would never think less of him for it and would, for some reason completely beyond him, love him more for this display. He clung to her, fingers clutching at the fabric of her nightdress. Her kisses fell lightly on his forehead and her touch was soft and loving as she wiped away the tears that spilled from him.
“It is unfair, my love,” she said, her tender tone a salve on the gaping wound his heart bore. “It is unfair to them as well as to you. They would have benefited from your tutelage and it was wrong for them to be ripped from you like this. But you must be strong, Loki. Hel still needs her father.”
“I do not know what to do for her, Sigyn,” he lamented.
“We will find a way to help her,” she said, cupping his chin and bringing his eyes to hers. “I promise you, I will do everything I can to help her, my darling.”
“Darling…” he breathed, hardly able to bear the way she looked at him; with sincerity, devotion and love. He pressed his lips to hers, burning with need for her and the comfort she offered. He couldn’t do this alone anymore; didn’t want to bear this alone. He drank her in, relieved when she did not deny him the affection he greedily took, wrapping his arms around her and finding himself settled between her thighs. It was only when he broke the kiss to breathe, pressing his forehead to hers did he realize that she let him go unchecked. Her cool hands were on his face as he nuzzled her, wiping away stray tears and he wondered for a brief moment if she would have let him go further.
“Perhaps we should postpone the wedding until Hel is better,” she said softly, and his heart nearly shattered in his chest. He didn’t understand how she could be so selfless, give up everything she wanted for a child that wasn’t her own, especially when it was so close to being hers. Furthermore, he didn’t want to wait any longer to be able to to have her like this without having to worry about her being taken from him too. He wanted what was rightfully his. He shook his head but her finger stilled his lips before he could argue with her. “Listen to me, Loki, before you say one word. You cannot stretch yourself this thinly. You cannot focus on Hel and helping her while trying to be devoted to me and this wedding. She is more important to you than I can ever be.”
“Do not say that, Sigyn,” he protested.
“It is truth, Loki, and one I am perfectly fine with, so please do not feel the need to tell me otherwise. Hel is your blood and she has that right as do your other children. You should focus on Hel.”
Loki sighed. He didn’t like it but he couldn’t argue with it. Hel needed his full attention and Sigyn was more than willing to let that happen. He nodded and settled back down against her, breathing deeply the sweet smell of her skin. He lay with her like that for some time, thinking while her fingers slid through his hair. Unfortunately, he was all too aware of the risk he was taking being here with her and he raised himself off of her with a heavy sigh.
“I shouldn’t stay,” he said as he kissed her forehead.
“But I want you to,” she replied and he felt her fingers clutching his shirt, holding him in place. His heart seized in his chest and he wanted nothing more than to stay here with her.
“It is unwise,” he forced himself to say. Unwise both for the consequences should he be caught and for the arousal she inspired in him that he was nearly desperate to appease.
“I don’t care. Stay, please?”
Loki looked down at her and sighed softly. It was touching that she wanted him to stay so badly and he didn’t believe he had the strength to resist. He wanted to spend the night here and the pleading in her teal eyes stripped him of any remaining willpower. He nodded and settled into the bed beside her, pulling her close against him. She was soft in his arms and the way she snuggled into his chest made him weak. He sighed and nuzzled into her hair.
“You should be safe here until first light,” she murmured, and he nodded, tightening his hold on her. It was unfortunate that he had to wait even longer to have moments like these with her and more, but as important as Sigyn was to him, she was right; his children would always be more important to him and he was grateful for her understanding. Her warmth was comforting against him and he couldn’t help drifting off with her nestled there in his arms
