Loki

He could hear the crowd outside the palace walls as they celebrated his engagement.

It's strange. One moment, they despise you and the next they adore you as if you have done nothing wrong. Loki looked at himself in the mirror, seeing only a prince who was trying his best.

Get through it.

The golden light of the afternoon sun streamed through the high windows of Loki's chambers, casting elongated shadows across the polished marble floors.

Frigga stood behind him, fastening the last intricate clasp on his ceremonial attire. The deep green and black fabric shimmered slightly under her careful hands, adorned with gold filigree befitting the prince of Asgard.

He didn't wear his accursed headpiece today. Horns would be overkill.

Her ladies' maids scurried around the room, ensuring that everything was set. They avoided his gaze.

"There we go," she said softly, smoothing a wrinkle on his sleeve. "Much better."

Loki exhaled, staring at his reflection in the ornate mirror before him.

He did look rather dashing he supposed. Healthy. Alive. But his expression was unreadable, a perfect mask of calm and indifference.

Frigga, however, knew better.

She rested a hand on his shoulder. "Loki, I will ask you one last time—are you certain this is what you want?"

Loki's gaze flickered to her in the mirror. "We are a good match."

He felt like a parrot, repeating useless words. There's a saying on Midgard; if you repeat a lie long enough, it will eventually become the truth.

Frigga's lips pressed into a thin line. "That is not what I asked."

Frigga's voice was gentle, but Loki could hear the disappointment beneath it. She had asked him this question so many times before, and his answer never changed. It was like a fixed moment in time, despite whatever you changed, the result would be just the same.

He had made a promise. Ironically, he would never break it.

"She needs protection," he said simply, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. "And I need to honour Asgard's alliance with Vanaheim. It is a logical match."

Frigga sighed. "Logic and duty are not always enough, Loki."

"They will have to be."

She studied him for a long moment, and then her expression softened. "Odin and I were arranged as well," she admitted.

That caught Loki's attention.

He turned slightly, staring at her. "You never told me that. I always assumed you two were...well, everyone knows how grand your courtship was."

Theirs was the courtship to end all courtships, whispered to young girls dreaming of marrying their own princes.

Odin had ended a war for her. What could be more romantic than that?

"Ours was not a love match in the beginning," she said, fussing over his hair. "As you know, I was the daughter of the King of Vanaheim, a pawn in political negotiations, much like Sigyn."

"I'm well aware of Grandfather Fjorgynn. He didn't like Thor and I very much." Loki recalled.

"Hush," she chided, running a comb through his hair. "I'm not fond of him either but he's still my father."

"Yes, mother," he sighed. "Continue..."

"My father had pushed me towards Odin hoping that we could end the struggle between our people. But over time, we grew to understand each other. Love, when it comes, is not always immediate. It grows slowly, like an oak tree from an acorn. But it must be done carefully, with thought and affection. Once you nurture it properly, it will never wither."

Loki looked away, unwilling to dwell on the possibility.

He knew love. He knew the aches and groans, the highs and lows. But he also knew the comfort and happiness, the way you search for someone when they're near or how their soul tangles with yours. Loki knew that he was reaching for an unattainable fruit.

Maya would always occupy a corner of his heart no matter how much he tried to deny it. Locking it away and throwing away the metaphorical key was easier said than done.

"I'm sorry to regale you of tales from long ago," she said. "But if you are going through with this for the sake of duty, then you must know that I understand what you feel."

Loki flickered his eyes up at her. "Mother, I..."

"I know." She repeated.

"I'm not making a mistake." He said. "Please. Trust me."

"I do. With all my heart, my son." Frigga hesitated, then picked something up from the nearby table. "So tell me, Loki. What would you like me to do with this?"

In her hands was Maya's dagger, its blade still as sharp as the day he had it made.

The sight of it sent an ache through Loki's chest. Cold and sharp, slicing right through his lies and soul to reach his core.

Loki always scoffed at sentiment but here he was drowning in it.

He looked away from it, pushing down the thoughts that urged him to run. He wouldn't. Not this time. He wasn't a coward.

"Get rid of it," he said without hesitation. "Destroy it. I don't care. It has no use."

Frigga studied his face, then nodded. He watched as she tucked it away into her sleeve.

"Forgive me for distressing you on your special day, my dear." She placed a hand on his cheek, stroking his cheekbone with the pad of her thumb. "Before all else, I want your happiness."

"I know." He sighed. "You know my heart but this is my choice. Please accept it."

She smiles. "Sigyn is an incredibly lucky young woman. I am so proud of the son I have raised."

"Thank you, Mother." He bent down and kissed the back of her hand. "You raised a dutiful son."

"I have raised you to be more than that." Come now," she said, pulling him away from the mirror. "It is time."

—

The Great Hall was filled with nobles, warriors, and dignitaries from across the realms. Golden banners hung from the high ceilings, the scent of mead and spiced meats filling the air.

It was strange to see so many faces, both welcoming and hostile, under one ceiling.
This might just be the largest gathering Asgard has had in centuries. Even larger than Thor's botched coronation.

Everyone bowed as he passed, the 'Your Highness' falling from their lips like sweet honey.

Frigga nudged his side with her elbow, reminding him to keep his chin up high as they made their way to the throne.

Sigyn stood near the steps of the throne with her father, Lord Bradyr.

Loki felt a sliver of disgust for the man but hid it well. They truly were father and daughter, sharing the same eyes and hair but that is where the differences ended. Her lips and the gentle slope of her chin belonged to her mother, making her face look more innocent than it appeared.

She looked composed, but there was a stiffness to her posture that betrayed her nerves. Her father, on the other hand, stood with his usual smugness, as if already gloating over his daughter's elevation in status.

She looked beautiful, dressed regally in a purple gown with a gold cape lined with fur wrapped around her shoulders. Her auburn hair was braided and pinned up in an intricate fashion, a few curled strands falling to frame her face. A ruby pin in the shape of a flower rested in her hair, glowing in the sunlight.

It was his Yuletide gift to her. He had ensured that the tailors fitted it to her measurements. She had gifted him a silver bracelet intern with the snake Jormunger etched into it.

Sigyn looked straight ahead, still as a statue.

Thor stood at the front, his regal presence commanding attention. As king, he presided over the ceremony, his expression unreadable. He had voiced his opposition to this arrangement more than once, but now, he played his role without protest.

Their eyes met and Thor nodded, the corner of his lip quirking up slightly.

This is for you, his eyes seemed to say.

Frigga squeezed his hand and stepped away, taking her seat next to Jane who wore a soft pink coloured gown with her brown hair braided with gold ribbons.

She didn't smile. Jane just looked at him with eyes full of accusations he knew to be true. He nodded at her and looked away.

Loki approached the altar, his steps measured and controlled. Sigyn lifted her gaze to meet his, something unspoken passing between them.

They understood one another. That, at least, was something.

Thor cleared his throat, beginning the ceremonial words. Sigyn held his hand in hers, playing with the signet ring on his pinky finger.

Both of their hands were clammy and cold.

He couldn't help but think how they were committing the greatest trick of all time. There would always be a thrill of getting away with something but all Loki felt at this moment was a small inkling of fear that made his stomach churn.

Loki listened only half-heartedly, his mind elsewhere—until it was time.

Frigga and Lord Bradyr exchanged the ceremonial swords of their houses. Their heritage and family represented in the form of steel.

Loki watched as Lord Bradyr gripped his sword tightly. He secretly hoped that he would cut his hand on its edges. Perhaps he could feel the same type of pain that Sigyn must feel.

The bride price and bridegroom price had been agreed on beforehand. He was getting his money's worth.

The ceremony continued, oblivious of how Sigyn's hands trembled when she placed her ring on Loki.

She let out a shuddery breath. He hoped it was from relief.

When it was his turn he hesitated, Just for a fraction of a second. He hovered there, something in his chest squeezing almost painfully.

This felt wrong. So very wrong.

Loki felt all of those thoughts he had spent years shoving down creeping up on him slowly. Every whisper of unhappiness, every suggestion that he was too broken to be loved, and every image of Maya seared into his brain.

Seconds felt like an eternity. He looked up at Sigyn and desperately wished someone else was in her place.

She must've seen the hesitation in his eyes.
Sigyn nudged her hand forward, pushing her finger through the ring.

Loki bit the inside of his cheek, kicking himself for his blunder.

Thankfully nobody noticed.

He willed his thoughts into submission, focusing on the point where their hands touched.

The hall erupted in applause.

Thor's voice rang out, "Lady Sigyn of Vanaheim and Prince Loki of Asgard are officially engaged with my blessing. They will be wed within six weeks' time. If there is any objection for why these two may not wed, say it now in front of your king."

The hall was silent. Loki felt Sigyn squeeze his hand, her eyes widening just so. A moment passed and Loki felt his shoulders relax.

Nobody would try to stop the engagement.

They had done it.

They had tricked everyone.

"Very well," Thor nodded his head. "As of this moment, they are engaged. Let the celebrations commence!"

Another applause went up. Sigyn winced and Loki realized that he was crushing her hand. He muttered a soft apology and loosened his grip.

His mother was the first to greet him. Her eyes danced, a glimmer of happiness.

She took Sigyn's hand in hers. "I officially welcome you to Asgard, Lady Sigyn. May you find happiness here."

Sigyn's cheeks turned pink. She bowed her head in respect. "Thank you for your consideration, Your Majesty. I will do my best to uphold Asgard's honour."

Frigga leaned in close. "I hope you can come to me to me if you need anything. My doors will always be open to you."

Sigyn bowed again. "Of course, Your Majesty."

Frigga congratulated Loki before taking Jane by the arm and leading her to the celebration hall.

Thor descended the steps, a bright smile on his face. Loki takes a step back but it is futile. He wrapped his arms around Loki and lifted him off the ground.

"Congratulations, brother!" He exclaimed.

Loki couldn't fight the grin on his face, even if he felt his ribs were being crushed by a bear of a man. "Thor, put me down! My fiancé will have the wrong idea!"

Sigyn's shot him a smirk. "Oh no, please. Don't stop on my behalf."

"Well said, Lady Sigyn." Thor puts Loki down. "I'm happy that you have chosen my brothers. He's a good man."

Sigyn bows again. This time Loki pulls her shoulder back gently, stopping her. He presses his hand against the small of her back, playing the part of an attentive fiancé well.

He watches from the corner of his eyes as a few maidens giggle behind their hands.

"It is an honour, Your Majesty. Thank you for hosting the ceremony."

"Oh, it was nothing." He waved his hand. "My brother deserves the best in life. I'm glad you can provide that for him."

Loki didn't know how to respond to that.

Soon after, the celebrations began.

The feast was grand, as all Asgardian celebrations were. This one was just a smidge more.

Thor had taken up planning the feast, eager to test his new skills.

Loki stared up at the floating candles.

Are we suddenly in Hogwarts? He thought. Thor isn't as fond of contemporary Midguardian literature.

Sigyn was led around the room by Frigga, and introduced to the noble houses, while Thor stood at the centre of the Valkyries, deep in conversation about the new weapons arriving from the dwarves, excitement clear on his face.

He recognized Brunnhilde. She throws her head back and laughs, attracting the stares of some nobles but she hardly cares.

She wears her armour instead of a gown. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail with gold beads that glint in the candlelight.

At least she's in good company. Loki, unfortunately, has to deal with Lord Bradyr.

He forces on a pleasant smile even though his hand itches for his knife.

"It's truly a splendid engagement. Your brother had outdone himself," lord Braydr suggested, swirling his goblet of cider. "A true union of our realms should take place on Vanir soil. Don't you think, Your Highness?"

Lord Bradyr's greed would be the end of him.

Loki's fingers tightened around his cup, the metal bending slightly. "Asgardian tradition dictates that royal weddings take place in Asgard," he said smoothly. "Especially if a member of the royal family is involved. It is an ancient rite, one I'm sure you wouldn't wish to disregard. We take our traditions very seriously here." 

He frowned, clearly displeased but hid it behind his cup. "Perhaps." He said. "If I had agreed to your union with Sigyn earlier, then we may have avoided this."

Loki recalls his words when he had asked for Sigyn's hand in marriage in his youth. He had been laughed at and then mocked.

You're not even first in line for the throne. If you're not worthy enough for Asgard, how can you be worthy enough for my daughter?

If any words were designed to kill one's pride those were certainly it.

He had no choice but to run away with his tail between his legs. Like a coward.

Oh, how the tables turn.

"You chose Theoric for your daughter if I recall. And she chose him in return," he reminded him. "He was a brave warrior who loved your daughter. We wouldn't want to make light of his sacrifice now, would we?"

Lord Bradyr nearly chokes on his wine. "Ah, yes... He was an honourable man. It is a shame what happened to him."

"But you have gained a prince," Loki said, pointing to himself. "Well done."

Before he could push further, Sigyn appeared at Loki's side, slipping her arm through his with a polite but firm smile.

"Forgive us, father," she said to Lord Bradyr. "There are many we must greet."

She pulled Loki away before Bradyr could argue, and once they were a safe distance, she sighed. "I assume that was unpleasant."

Loki smirked. "You assume correctly."

She studied him. "You look tired."

"You assume correctly once again. I haven't been sleeping well," he admitted. "And you?"

Sigyn exhaled. "I feel like I might throw up from all the excitement."

He seized the opportunity. "Then perhaps we should sit somewhere quiet. Get away from this crowd. If I have to shake one more person's hand again, I'll cut mine off."

Sigyn giggled, letting Loki guide her with his hand on her back.

They found a secluded balcony, away from the bustling hall. It had a bench that overlooked the city behind the palace.

A few gauzy curtains catch the evening breeze like sails from a ship, giving them a semblance of privacy that they desperately needed.

The moment they sat, Sigyn leaned back with a weary sigh. She kicks off her heels and props up her feet, settling them in his lap. "My father won't stop pressing about the wedding location."

He notices her ankles have swollen up slightly.

Loki rubbed the bottom of her feet, watching her skin return to a normal colour. "Then we are in agreement. He is insufferable. I don't know how you managed to live with him this long without killing him."

Sigyn chuckled, "You have no idea. He plans to keep my brother in Vanaheim while he stays here." She bends her fingers in the air, imitating air quotes. "Something about 'overseeing wedding preparations for his only daughter.' I wish I was jesting."

"He's going to be a thorn in my side."

"Our side actually."

She took another sip of her drink. Loki doesn't have to worry. He replaced the wine with water a long time ago.

Just another one of his tricks.

"Don't underestimate him. He may be stupid but he's the type of man who will do anything to save his skin. And I do mean anything."

"I could always kill him."

Sigyn chokes on her drink. Loki conjures up a handkerchief and passes it to her. "Absolutely not," she said once she recovers. "That'll just delay our wedding and I have no interest in attending a funeral. I look dreadful in black."

Perhaps he should propose less murderous ideas. It's becoming a habit.

He didn't hesitate to kill a problem if it became a nuisance. Now look at him. He's going soft.

Before he could speak further, a presence loomed nearby.

Loki swiftly pushed her legs off her lap and sat on the other side of the bench. Sigyn nearly drops her cup as she fixes her dress and slips her swollen ankles into her heels, hiding them away.

Both of them appear pious and proper, with not a hint of murder or any other serious thoughts in place.

Frigga emerges from the billowing curtains. Once she spots them, her worried gaze melts away.

"Oh, there you are. I was wondering where you two were."

Loki gets up and holds his hand out for Sigyn. "We just needed a moment away from the revelries."

Frigga clasps her hands together. "Thor did go a bit overboard. I believed him and the Valkyrie's are going to arm wrestle."

"Oh no, Your Majesty. I'm happy that His Majesty is giving us all his consideration." Sigyn says. "Honestly, It's wonderful."

"I haven't seen him this excited in a long time," Loki remarked.

Sigyn shoots Loki a smile. "I'm glad that our union can help lift His Majesty's spirit just a little bit."

"Thank you, dear." Frigga gestures to the grand hall. "Your father was looking for you earlier. I believe he wanted to discuss something about the location of the upcoming wedding."

"It was my understanding that the wedding would be on Asgard." She bites her lip. "Forgive him, Your Majesty. He is simply...excited."

That's one word for it, Loki thinks.

Frigga catches onto his thoughts faster than he can raise his shields. Her eyes narrow slightly.

"Sigyn, my dear." She said. "Do not think of me as rude but I need a moment to talk to my son."

Sigyn nods her head. She picks up her long skirt and bends into a slight bow. "Of course, Your Majesty."

She walks away, the sound of her heels clicking against the marble floors. Sigyn gives him one last look, perhaps one of hurt or disapproval before being enveloped by the curtains.

"You shouldn't have dismissed her like that."

"I'll make it up to her later. There's something urgent that requires your attention."

"It's my engagement day," he groans. "Can the Nine Realms not stay out of trouble for one day?"

Her expression was grave as she lowered her voice. "Come with me," she said quietly.

Loki frowned but followed anyway.

Frigga led him away but not towards the grand hall where the feast was. She led him to the mercifully empty council rooms.

Loki shut the door behind him and turned on his heels to face her.

"Mother, explain."

"The Bifrost activated suddenly. Heimdall informed us a few moments ago."

Loki's breath hitched. "For what purpose? Has something happened to one of our allies?"

"It has activated on its own. We do not know the reason. Our allies have not called for aid."

His mind raced. Sudden activations of the Bifrost were rare—especially unauthorized ones. It would require a large amount of dark power to jumpstart the Bifrost without Heimdall.

"Does Thor know?"

"I have sent a messenger. He will be here momentarily." She takes a seat around the circular table.

"Where is it targeted towards?" He asked, "The signal must come from somewhere."

Frigga hesitated, she didn't meet his eyes. "Midgard."

"Midgard?"

"Yes. There's also the matter of this."
Frigga pulled it from her sleeve, where she had hidden it away earlier. She pulled the blade out of the intricately embroidered sheath.

The ruby on the hilt glowed faintly, pulsing with energy.

When he had made this dagger, commitment and marriage weren't the only things on his mind. The dwarves had demanded a heavy price when he asked to imbue a part of the Bifrost in the blade.

Only if things were dire would the user use the dagger.

Loki's stomach dropped as his carefully constructed mask slipped. "It's a distress spell."

Something terrible had happened on Midgard. Something terrible had happened to Maya. And he had no idea what. She had hidden herself away. Or perhaps she was hidden from him?

A million and one thoughts raced through his brain but all he could feel was an all-encompassing dread.

He turned sharply, already striding toward the door.

"Loki—" Frigga called out.

"Take care of Sigyn," he said over his shoulder.

He stormed out of the council hall and straight to his room. He shrugged off his clothes and wore something sturdier. Loki always felt at home in Asgardian leather.

He plucked several of his daggers and tucked them away. He picked up Maya's dagger last, the red ruby was still glowing as he strapped it to his arm.

Loki knew that he wasn't acting logically or rationally but he could give less of a damn.

He had lost her once. He wasn't going to make that mistake again. Even after all this time, she still called out for him.

That must mean something.

Right?

They could never truly be together. The ring on his finger wouldn't allow it. But he could help her, just this once. Living with hatred was better than dying without love.

Thor met him near the bridge, two horses held together by their reigns.

His eyes darkened when he saw Loki descend the steps. "Are you certain, brother?" He looked up at the palace looming above him. "Does Lady Sigyn know? I am more than capable of going myself."

In a perfect world, I would be offended.

"Sigyn knows enough," Loki said, placing his boot in the stirrups. "We can't stand by and watch, Thor. Even if she isn't tied to me, she is still an Avenger and your comrade. And she's asking for aide."

Thor sighs. "Of course. I never once considered the thought." 

"Thank you, Thor."

"Think nothing of it. You would've done the same for me." He says before snapping the reigns and racing down the bridge.

Loki gently nudged his horse forward, gaining speed as the Bifrost grew larger and larger.

He prays to his ancestors, to the warriors in Valhalla, and even his own father who he despises—just this once, hoping his words reach them.

"Please," he begs the wind and the sea. "Let her be safe."