Loki teleported directly to his room. He held his emotions together while he checked to make sure the door was locked and his shields in place. He didn't need Thor barging in interrupting him with pointless Thor things, especially not right now.

Not after Sigyn.

His gaze went to his left hand and the missing gold band that used to live there. Tears welled in his eyes as his grief started to overtake him.

Not yet. A few more moments before he allowed his grief and the memories to have their way with him. He blinked back the tears and made his way to his dresser. On the perfectly tidy dresser was a shrine to his lost Sigyn: a portrait of his lady, his wedding ring, and the candle.

The candle was no more than a tiny puddle of wax on its last vestiges of life. Even now it spluttered and flickered, wavering as it neared extinction. Loki would never dare extinguish it. Not when it had been Sigyn's dying gift, dying wish, dying promise.

He picked up his wedding ring, holding it tight in his fist, his fist to his heart and finally let his tears fall, looking at the portrait of his Sigyn and let the memories and the grief swallow him:

Loki remembered a childhood learning magic side by side with his lady, a childhood full of laughter, joy, friendship, and a child's love.

He remembered their wedding, the wedding they started planning in earnest the moment they both came of age as they knew they were destined for each other. It just felt so right and natural that they be together forever.

He remembered the years of joy they had together after. There were too few of them, but they were full of warmth and love.

He remembered the illness that overcame her. How she weakened in front of his eyes. How even her healing abilities, his mother's healing abilities, nothing had been enough to save her. How he'd had to spoon feed her soup as she'd been too weak to eat anything else, but she still held on, wanting to live.

She fought until the bitter end. Loki had made sure she died with one of his daggers in her hand, so the Valkyrie would know how bravely she had fought, so they would take her to Valhalla.

"I'll come back to you," she had promised "A body cannot survive without its Heart,"

Loki hadn't understood her words. He had thought them simply the musings of the dying. There was no coming back from the beyond. Even if Sigyn was his Heart. She was gone.

It took everything in him not to slit his own wrists to join her.

Loki himself had lit her funeral pyre. He had lit the damn candle from the same flame, as Sigyn had made him swear to do. She had told him he was allowed to grieve, allowed to mourn until the flame went out, and then he was to continue living his life. He was allowed, expected, to find someone new. She didn't want him to live out his days in sorrow.

It had been burning for twenty years now. It was on its final day. Maybe one more. It wasn't enough time. It would never be enough time. He felt like he could and would grieve her loss for centuries, but he had made her a promise. He would mourn her until the candle went out.

He could never deny his Sigyn anything.

So he had made her that promise.

He just hoped it wouldn't break him to keep it.