Loki

For a brief moment he wonders if everyone around him was being deliberately obtuse or was that just their normal behavior.

It has been a wearisome morning.

More so than usual.

Paperwork was stacked towards the sky and there was an endless barrage of quieted that needed to be addressed.

His office was busy but this was unprecedented, it buzzed with the usual clamor of advisors and attendants, each vying for Loki's attention as they finalized details on the trade agreement with the dwarves.

There were a slew of other issues.

War relief funds needed to be transferred to widows, the entertainment district had petitioned to built a new statue in honor of...someone, The Valkyrie needed a new training facility, and he had a grand feast for the upcoming holiday to plan.

All exhausting work but someone had to do it. And he was happy to do so.

Just for today, he wished he could sip a glass of wine and settle down with a good book. Preferably somewhere quiet.

Loki was seated at the head of the table, trying his best radiate authority as he gave precise instructions.

"The dwarves have agreed to provide the first shipment of weapons within two weeks," he said, his voice measured. "Ensure that the terms of delivery are upheld. Any delay, however minor, must be reported immediately. We cannot afford setbacks."

"Of course, your highness," one of them said, making a note of it. "Should we assign someone to escort the cargo?"

Loki mulled over it. 

I could use a cup of Midguardian coffee. Norns, I should've stolen a coffee machine.

He rubbed his temple. "Send one of the Valkyrie's."

"But what of the quality?"

"Leave it to their commander. If Brunnhilde thinks they are up to her standards then it is. The Valkyrie's are fierce and have recently rejoined Asgard's ranks, they'll be eager to wet their blades."

The advisors nodded, scribbling notes on parchment as Loki continued outlining contingency plans and expectations.

Just as he prepared to dismiss the gathering, a flash of movement caught his eye through the open doorway.

A flurry of soft blue skirts and gold chains in long auburn hair.

Sigyn blinked at him slowly like a cat. Her hand was pressed against the door as she glanced around the room.

She turned around and hurried past the door, her complexion pale and her hand pressed to her mouth.

The advisors seemed not to notice, but Loki's sharp gaze followed her as she disappeared down the hall. A second later, he stood abruptly, causing the murmuring advisors to falter.

"We'll reconvene later. I have a council meeting with the king," he announced, pushing his chair back as he stood. "Dismissed."

The group exchanged confused glances but wisely didn't question him. They bowed and filed out of the door of his office with their tablets.

He waited till all of them were gone before taking off his robe. Loki stood in front of the mirror, perfecting his glamor before escaping his office.

Something was wrong. He knew it. Loki kept secrets and he easily uncovered others. It was in his nature.

Why would Sigyn come to him office? Why would she run away instead of coming in?

It didn't take long for him to catch up with her. He just had to follow the overly nauseating scent of flowers.

Sigyn's trail led him down a quiet corridor. He found her leaning against a pillar, trembling. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, and her face was streaked with sweat and tears.

Not once, in either their brief courtship or any moment after, had he seen her so undone and out of place.

Gone was the confidence of a bright and resourceful woman. The person who stood before him in the morning light might as well have been a stranger.

"Sigyn," he said firmly, his voice cutting through the silence.

She flinched, startled by his presence, but didn't turn to face him. Her shoulders were hunched, almost touching her ears. A rare moment of vulnerability that she was frozen in.

He places a hand on the crook of her elbow and gently guided her toward a small, empty chamber nearby.

She didn't even protest.

"Come," he said, his tone softening. "Let's not do this here."

He knew every nook and crevice of this palace. When Thor was off on adventure, he had spent years exploring his home, uncovering secret passages and hidden room that had long been forgotten.

Loki found a hidden alcove that was well concealed behind a tapestry. He pressed against the stone.

It gave way easily.

He ushered her in, glancing behind them to ensure that nobody had followed him.

When they were alone, he closed the door behind them. There was a tiny window in the room that illuminated them.

It felt like a clandestine meeting.

It was anything but.

Loki didn't like not knowing things.

Sigyn slipped her shawl from her hair, letting it hang loose around her arms. She held her hands together, the nails bitten down and red.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked, keeping tone calm but it came out laced with a hint of concern. "You look like death warmed over. What's happening?"

"Do you usually greet people via insults?"

I don't have time for this.

"I'm not the one having a mental breakdown in the corridor." He replied.

"Why did you follow me?" She asked, glancing away. "You couldn't just left me there."

Was she always this difficult?

"I could." Loki said. "But you looked suspicious."

"I'm hardly capable of committing treason, Loki."

"I said nothing about treason, Sigyn." He narrowed his eyes.

"You always think less of me." She spat back. "Nothing about you has changed after all these years."

"You have yet to give me reason to think otherwise." He didn't want to be petty but he couldn't help it. "Times are unstable and treacherous. Forgive me, Lady Sigyn, for my suspicions but I have far more important matters to attend to. I'm in no mood for a verbal sparring match with you. Either tell me what you need to or I shall leave."

He takes a step back but is stopped when he feels someone tugging on his sleeve.

"Wait!"

Loki turns back around. "I'm listening."

"I just..." she trailed off, eye going glassy.

Sigyn tried to compose herself, but the facade crumbled. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she shook her head. "I... I didn't want you to find out like this."

"Find out what?" Loki pressed, his eyes narrowing.

"I don't know what to do," she began, her voice breaking, "I...I don't have a choice, Loki. Not anymore."

Loki frowned.

He has never been skilled as consoling women, especially when they cried. It was different with Maya. When Maya cried, he had simply held onto her till she stopped, waiting for whatever sadness had overtaken to pass before he suggested a book to read. He had enjoyed reading to her—it was the best way to get her out of her headspace.

He realized he had never seen Sigyn cry before.

"I don't understand."

She wiped her tears away with the heels of her palms. "My father. He's trying to arrange a marriage for me."

"Oh, congratulations."

"No, you stupid man!" she cried, her voice rising. Sigyn glared at him fiercely. "I'm pregnant!"

The admission hung in the air like a heavy fog. Loki's eyes widened slightly, though his expression remained unreadable.

That explains quite a lot.

He glanced down at her stomach.

Oh.

Loki felt the pieces of the puzzle fit into place with an audible snap.

He cleared his throat. "May I ask who the father is?"

"Theoric." She said softly.

"Oh, of course. Naturally."

"He was supposed to be my husband. We were happy. We were in love. But now he's dead, and my father doesn't care. He's using me like a pawn, shoving me into another union that will benefit him. Just like always."

Typical of him.

"My mother informed me of his death."

Sigyn nodded, her tears flowing freely now. "He was. I didn't even have time to grieve before my father started arranging my next match. And now..." She hesitated, her hands trembling as she placed them protectively over her abdomen. "Now I'm pregnant, and I don't know what to do."

"Is that why you were so desperate to convince me to marry you?" he asked quietly.

Sigyn nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes. I thought if I married you, I could keep my child safe. My father wouldn't dare use me again, not if I were tied to the royal family."

"That's quite the gamble."

"We knew each other," Sigyn said. "Even if our relationship ended long ago I hoped you harbored some affection from me. You have no interest in marriage and I need protection. I thought it would be a perfect partnership."

He had to admit. He was a little impressed by her ability to scheme.

But still...his suspicion remained.

"So you thought to manipulate me?"

"I thought to strike a bargain." She pressed on. "Yes, I may have tried to play against your supposed lingering feelings for me but clearly I miscalculated. But now I'm desperate, Loki. I don't know who else to turn to?"

Loki wisely chose to ignore that.

"And this is different from the arrangement you proposed to me how, exactly?" Loki studied her, his sharp mind already processing the implications. "Even if you married me, your child would never be considered for the throne. You know that."

"I don't care about that!" Sigyn snapped, her voice trembling. "I just want them to be safe. To have a life where they're not seen as leverage or a burden. Far away from my father's reach!"

"To be tied to the throne is a burden." He reminded her sharply.

Her eyes looked at him with rage. "What other options do I have?" She hissed. "I don't have the option of separating myself from my father's house!"

For a long moment, Loki said nothing. His piercing green eyes searched her face, and Sigyn held his gaze, her vulnerability laid bare.

"If we do agree to this crackpot of a scheme—and I'm not saying I will—you are aware that marriages of the Asgardian nobility are binding. Unlike the common folk, we could never separate." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "This is madness."

"That's fine." She lifted her chin up. "I can stomach that."

Loki was at his wits end. Odin may have plucked him from Jotenheim but it was Frigga who truly raised him. He had seen her struggle as he grew with the politics of court and the endless wars. She had held her head high and soldiered on, battling every bit of court intrigue with grace and a commanding presence he envied.

Sigyn would no longer have any peace.

Not anymore.

"I don't love you," Loki said firmly.

Surely she must know that.

Sigyn nodded, blue eyes glassy and clear. Determined. "I'm aware. You still harbor feelings for the mortal. Oh, don't look so surprised. Everyone had heard of the rumors about you two!" She placed her hand atop of his. "If we were to wed, I wouldn't mind it if you had your...dalliance's. I'm capable of looking the other way."

"Dalliances?" Loki scoffed. "You claim that I think so little of you but you are no different, Sigyn. There's no marriage without fidelity."

She looked up at him. There was a flicker of hope that made him uneasy. "Is that a yes?"

"It's a perhaps."

Her face fell. "I'm not lying. Not this time."

He sighed, wondering what the Norns had in store for him. "Go back to your rooms," he said finally, his voice firm but not unkind. "I'll send someone to confirm it. And if your are telling the truth—we'll go one from there."

"But, Loki. I—"

"I'll think about this." He said cutting her off. Loki glanced at her tear streaked face and lowered his voce. "Now go."

Sigyn hesitated, her lips parting as if to protest, but she ultimately nodded and slipped out of the chamber without another word.

Alone, Loki leaned against the wall, closing his eyes as he exhaled slowly.

What a mess.

The weight of the decision before him pressed heavily on his chest, and for a brief moment, he wondered if he was throwing something aside that was necessary.

He had no more use for the dagger.

This plan was madness.

But there was a method to madness and he was a being that thrived on chaos.

Sigyn's desperation could be his salvation. He didn't fancy himself being tied down to someone he didn't love. He no longer loved Sigyn, those feelings were buried and gone. Nothing could rekindle them.

But...they could coexist. Be equal partners. He would have his freedom and Sigyn's unborn child could have their protection.

There would be complications in ensuring that no one looked too closely at the parentage.

He could manage that. After all, Odin hid his heritage form him for eons.

When he opened his eyes, he was resolute. He straightened his posture and left the chamber, making his way to the council room.

Scheming and planning. Planning and scheming. He was very good at those sorts of things. His strongest ability wasn't just combat but adaptability.

Thor and Frigga were seated at the table with the advisors, discussing the progress of the dwarven trade deal. Thor looked up as Loki entered, his expression brightening.

"Brother. It's nice of you to finally join us," Thor greeted. "The dwarves, are they delivering the goods as they promised?"

"Yes," Loki replied, stepping forward and taking a seat. "The first batch of weapons for our army will arrive in two weeks' time. Brunnhilde will be overseeing the transfer. Everything is proceeding as planned."

Thor nodded approvingly, but Frigga's gaze lingered on Loki, sensing the tension beneath his composed exterior.

He dug his nails into his palm.

"The delegates of Vanaheim are returning to their realm soon." she reminded gently, her tone soft but pointed. "Have you made your decision?"

Loki hesitated for only a fraction of a second before lifting his chin.

It is now or never.

"I have," he said, his voice steady. "I choose Lady Sigyn."