#bless all those mothers who do all they can [SIGYN]

[sinnhelmingr]

the only person in hel’s family that she is taller than, per my own personal lore, is her stepmother. sigyn is aeesir compared to hel as a jotunn. the insult there is not that sigyn is taller than her stepdaughter, as that is simply not true. the insult is that she’s almost as tall as hel and that’s what’s giving her a complex.

it’s not a victory if sigyn can put on heels and look down at hel like when hel was a kid. to say nothing of most aesir, male and female, having never stopped being able to look down at hel. sigyn’s own perpetually adolescent half-aesir sons are looking down on their half-sister daily and that’s simply salting the wound.

#they can't get into my head [HEADCANON] #bless all those mothers who do all they can [SIGYN] #SMALLEST. JOTUNN. EVER. BORN.

[eclipsecrowned]

Actually, I want to amend a statement I made earlier today. Hel is secure in her physical sense of self. She's comfortable in her own skin, metaphorically speaking. She accepts how she appears, accepts her disabilities, accepts her deformities. This is her body. These only define what she might be physically capable of from day to day or how she might judge the approach of others.

She might not have sprung up that way -- The othering of Asgard lingers well into adulthood, thousands of years on, the first realization that she was somehow 'wrong,' that she unsettled -- but she's developed that way. First out of spite for Odin using her appearance as another link in the chain that bound and commanded her, then for her own sake. The glamours will always be for others, for mortals who need reassurance that the divine will not swallow them whole or rob them of their comfort, not for herself.

How lucky she is to have a vessel to experience this world at all. Isn't any weakness or pain worth those moments of beauty? Worth breathing?

No, where Hel falls apart is her sense of self in terms of a person, of a member of a dynasty. Who she is weighed against who she never got to be.

She's spent so long being a Queen that in many ways being Hel fell to the wayside, trying to be perfect and reserved and never feeling anything too deep lest she drown and lose sight of which way is up and which way is down. Docile, but never so tolerant that others think her complacent. Clever, but never so that others can see her father's blood in her veins. She's trying so hard to be better than those around her, which is her blessing to see bigger pictures and her sorrow because being better doesn't leave her much room to process 'darker' emotions.

She's the one who gets to be free, of her siblings. Sigyn's sons are dead, Angrboda's are bound, and Sleipnir serves. What is she doing with that? She shames her brothers, though she does her best. She feels listless and shamed that there is so little she can do. Living is not enough for her. She still dreams of her family whole and without wound.

And family. It isn't that Odin manipulated her into thinking she had been abandoned to her fate by her father, it's that she believed it for so long, and shames her father. It isn't that her survival required her to endure rather than rebel, it's that she was tamed by her imprisonment, and shames her mother. She chose poorly in the handling of Badr, chose to slake her own desire for revenge on Odin, and Sigyn's sons paid the price, and it's all her fault.

Shame. Shame. Shame. No security. Someone is always failed. She fails herself to be the best ruler. She fails her family by being herself. Her sense of self so fragile that the barest touch will shatter the ice completely.

She has her body. It isn't entirely clear what inhabits it.

#heltbt

[chiimaera]

SIGYN. lawful neutral.

norse myth, truth & other lies book series fc: charlize theron

dossier:                      

sigyn had always stuck out, even amongst the gods. she is not violent, she is not vengeful, and her life goal is not to die in ragnarok once it comes. her only idea and her single driving thought is the wellbeing of her family. in all her verses, she was a mortal first and because of this loyalty, she is granted immortality through divine blessing.        

in mythology, loki kills baldr by rigging a game. the gods could not let this pass since baldr was extremely beloved among them. everyone who was part of this and connected to Loki in any way was punished. after killing lokis sons, loki was taken in a cave deep under the earth and chain using his own sons entrails. they put snake over his head so the snake could drip venom on his forehead and cause him immeasurable pain. ever faithful, sigyn remained at his side using a bowl to collect the venom that was dripping from the snake’s teeth.

From time to time, she had to leave his place to pour the content of the bowl. During that time, the venom would drip on Loki’s head. The poison was very powerful, and it made him tremble and scream in agony. Loki’s screaming and trembling are said to be the origin of earthquakes in the human world.

mythos canon does not have to apply to other muses unless desired          

because of her sacrifices ( mythology and headcanons ), she became the goddess of fidelity, nurturing, and grieving. primarily, she was honored by women. if someone was praying to sigyn, they were usually in deep sadness or was heartbroken. also, people who lost their children paid respects to sigyn to keep them safe in the afterworld.

She would not be a God that you would pray for seeking justice but the god to whom you would pray to achieve inner peace. she was usually represented as either a young, innocent bride, a grieving mother, or a nurturing mother, and that were three main aspects regarding Sigyn’s personality. It depends on which Sigyn’s personality you pray to. If it is to the bride, the offering should be cake or some other sweet which should be made by the one making the offering. To the nurturing or grieving mother, one should offer fresh milk and bread.        

personality:   

she is stubborn and willful. she seeks law and order, follows rules and expects others to do the same. this can come off as naive and self righteous at times, putting expectations on others and being disappointed or sad when its not met. her ability to keep giving second chances is taxing and quixotic. as her name sake, she is a fighter and will stick up for herself and others—especially those she loves. she will fight tooth and nail even at a disadvantage. she is loyal to a fault, always wanting to make sure the people closest to her are taken care of even when they break her heart over and over.     

she is hard working, intelligent and focused, tends to be more introverted. she dislikes cheats, liars and bullies and will tell people when she disapproves of their behavior. sadness comes easier to her than anger though she will refuse to cry in front of others if she can help it. when shes comfortable, she can be playful and sweet, letting her guard down enough to let herself breath outside her responsibilities.    

verses:                                  

main ::  lightly based off the novel ‘truth & other lies’ series, sigyn was born to a mortal family on midguard. her mother died when she was young and her brother is a con man so she took over her fathers business at a local book shop and printing press. her father was diagnosed with brain cancer which leaves him bed ridden and hallucinating. she does her best to care for him when shes not working in the shop, fixing the machines and making sure projects are completed on time. her brother is known in bad circles for conning people out of money so she keeps bookies and loan sharks at bay as best she can. she is stubbornly unwilling to give up on her family no matter the strife

             her undying and unyielding loyalty, even at the expense of her wellbeing, sparks a divine energy inside her. while it is acknowledged by odin and freya, they never approached the woman because she is mortal and could not live in asgard. without being introduced, her magical abilities are only brought out when in danger or high emotions, uncontrollable and unknowing to her.             

main verse can be a period piece (1700-1800s) or modern                   

mythological & marvel ::  when odin was gathering his allies, creating the pantheon, he found a one mortal who stood out among the many. despite her families struggle, the betrayal of those closest to her, she remained loyal to her blood and kept her promises even when she was heart broken and exhausted. through her untimely death, odin brought her amongst the Aesir gods as the goddess of fidelity, unable to let that light inside her die. optional to include marriage to loki and her sons.            

this blog does not acknowledge the marvel comics for this character

#biography and verses #xxviii. character ;; sigyn #marvel rp #norse myth rp #loki rp

[devoutpriest]

whereherloyaltieslie:

Knelt beside the former priest, the Goddess’s stoic expression had softened. Her gaze was steady, eyes piercing as she looked into him. His spirit was shaken by this, his very being seem to be in a trembling state between the gods and the one he knew. “ I am the Goddess of constancy and loyalty. For all other occasions, I would insist you address me as Goddess, but considering your state, you my call me Sigyn.” At his explanation, she sighed , the air in the room seeming to shift as the weight of his issue set in. “ I am not a creature of chance, Athelstan. I am as rooted to my core beliefs as the tree’s to the ground…Yggdrasil, but with age comes wisdom, and even I acknowledge that, sometimes, change is much take place." There were many plants and animals, like the squirrel Ratatosk, living in this tree, as she enjoyed sitting under there and reading a book and having a picnic, sometimes with her friend Idunn. Its branches were large, their trunk thick, so they could sit under there without fear of rain. "I can assure you of out existence because I am here, but just as quickly as I appeared I will take my leave, and you will be left with your thoughts, so I ask you consider this.”

Lifting ivory hands into the air, she gently took his face in her hands. “ If your god is as loving as you claim in your prayers, why must you choose a side? Show loyalty to those who are deserving. Both we and your god have given you comfort in life, why must the existence of one negate the other? Your Christ speaks of love, show love and loyalty to those in your life that would return it, be they gods of people.”

The name sounded vaguely familiar to him, but he had only heard very little about this Goddess, amongst the much more highly lauded Thor, Freyr, and Odin.

Constancy and loyalty… Perhaps, she could truly help him. There is a part of him that wished to address her of her High status. He yearned to respect a Goddess that took time to bless him with her presence, even in his troubled state.

“It is an honour to meet you, O Sigyn, Goddess of Constancy. You are the wife of Loki, correct?”

He is still in awe, when she takes his face into her hands, illuminated she seemed by her ethereal beauty. She looked an angel of the lord, even though knowing she was a norse goddess. Athelstan considers Sigyn’s words carefully.

“God is loving and merciful, yes, for a LONG time He has been.” Until He seemed to close himself off to him & the other monks when the raid of Lindisfarne had happened. There had been no response from him, during the fervent feverish prayers of the monks, including him.

“I do. I am loyal to Ragnar, above all, and my friends.”

“I envisioned Mother Mary, finally a sign from God surely and of REDEMPTION—but later on at night, I saw images of the Pagan sacrifice bleeding, BLURRING, into the Christian rites at High Mass. It has brought me much confusion, and so, my spirit continues to be torn.” The images did however play a huge factor in making him change his mind about eating the bread of Christ. The bread was tasteless, a thin cracker, a slice of the bread Christ and his disciples ate during the last supper.

He had thought that God could guide him back to the rightful path; set him back to his true mission in life and help erase any doubt of which Religion he BELONGED, when he prayed to God to ravish him, breathing harshly, for the Lord to come into his body, as he prayed to the cross. However, His revert back to silence, was becoming difficult to bear once again. Sigyn’s real presence, of flesh and blood, well, her advice spoken to him seemed wise.

“I do not want the existence of one to completely eradicate the other, no. It’s just, the more disturbing VISIONS also keep haunting me, wrecking my peace.”

There had been an especially scary vision of a shapeless monster baring elongated sharp teeth; he peering through the darkness with his candle, it looked truly like some horrific DEVIL. It had frightened him beyond imagining, the fright coursing into the very recesses of his soul.

#rp partner | whereherloyaltieslie #ic

[sinnhelmingrmoved]

thinking about it critically right now, for hel to be a complete daddy’s girl, her personality shares far more in common with her mothers. her decisiveness, leadership, and strength of character all come from angrboda as queen, her endurance, her unwavering loyalty to those that earn it, and her ability to prize mercy and kindness over personal pride all comes from sigyn as goddess. angrboda as mother gave her the capacity for hidden depths and the belief that she should stand strong before everyone, a lesson hel had to reclaim in her own adulthood. sigyn as woman gave her love for the world and the ability to play long games.

there is just. so much of who she is that came from the example these two women gave her. she will always value her father, will always think she has somehow disappointed angrboda through her life in metaphorical chains, that she is the cause for sigyn’s suffering, but i do not doubt that the two of them could not be prouder of the shape her survival has taken and the woman she has become of her own accord.

#they can't get into my head [HEADCANON] #where mother's weakness goes [ANGRBODA] #bless all those mothers who do all they can [SIGYN]

[alirhi]

Loki ranting

Okay. I had this thought in my head of like just compiling links of all the Loki shit I've posted/reblogged so far so that when I get into a conversation about the show and how it fucking disgusted me, I can just be like "here. here's this masterlist post, go read all this shit. This is my entire argument, and not only mine, but a lot of stuff posted by people far more intelligent and level-headed and eloquent than I am, whom I happen to agree with." Because the alternative is constantly getting fired up all over again, and that is exhausting.

BUT! I'm stupid and don't know how tumblr works. Apparently I can't just be like "give me all the Loki-tagged shit I've got" I can only search all the Loki-tagged shit on all of tumblr. And I'm not scrolling back through all of my posts. I talk too fucking much for that shit 😂

So, I'll try to remember all of my grievances with how the MCU has treated Loki, and all of the excellent posts made by other, equally upset fans, and put it all together here under this nice, neat little cut for everyone else's sanity and scrolling convenience...

For people who actually read my shit fairly regularly - bless you, you crazy, patient people. I love you! - this is going to be a lot of repetition of shit you've already read. Probably at least twice. I'm passionate and I have a terrible memory lol. Sorry.

Anyway, first, for those who don't know me and haven't been following my explosions of rage for the past couple of months, some quick background: I do not read comic books, so Loki's Marvel comic canon means nothing to me. I know almost nothing about it. The reason I'm so in love with the character in the MCU is because I am an eclectic witch and the deity I've actively loved and worshiped the longest in my life (literally for as long as I can remember) is Loki. So when he was mentioned in The Mask, I squeed. When they named Matt Damon's character after him in Dogma, I cheered.

When Thor came out in 2011, I just about died from happiness. I was hungry for any representation of this underappreciated god, no matter what it was. I didn't even bitch about how underpowered he was, because at least he was there. But I'm getting slightly ahead of myself.

I can hear anyone reading this going "Why Loki? Isn't he, like, evil? Like basically the Norse version of The Devil?" Because I heard all this shit irl all the fucking time. And no. So let me give you a quick rundown of who Loki actually is.

Loki is a Trickster God. He's often referred to as the God of Mischief. He is not and never was evil, simply chaotic and hedonistic. Loki Laufeyjarson was the son of Laufey (that's mama; they changed her to a man for some reason in the movie) and Fárbauti. Right from the start, from his name, we get a sign of how Loki goes against traditional norms of the time, because in Norse culture, families were patrilineal, and surnames were "son/daughter of father" (which would have made him Loki Fárbautitason), not the mother. But Loki's surname is matrilineal. Feminist icon woo! lol

Though he's a Jotunn, Loki is counted among the Gods (Aesir) in Norse tradition. Depending on his mood, he is alternately helpful or disruptive to the other Gods. I'm not gonna sit and teach a whole text class on him lol but I'll use my favorite example of Misunderstood Loki - the conception of Sleipnir!

So, get this shit. This is also part of why I DO NOT follow Odin and never fucking will (a very small part, but still part of the reason). So, the other Norse Gods are petty motherfuckers, and they wanted some shit built but didn't want to pay the dude doing the building. So they were like "okay, if you can get it done in X amount of time, we'll pay you, but if you can't manage it NO MATTER WHAT, this whole thing is free." And they made sure he had NO help, nothing but him, his materials, and his Very Good Horsey. And this guy and his horse were fucking BAMFs. So it was looking like he was definitely gonna get it done in time, and Odin was like "nah, fuck that shit. I'm cheap." and so he sent Loki to distract the work horse. Loki transformed into a mare and lured the horse away, got fucked, got pregnant, gave birth to the 8-legged (for some reason) horse Sleipnir. Odin rides Loki's son into battle. Um. Kay.

So Loki helped Odin be a petty mf, and Odin got himself a new pet out of the deal.

Oh, also, because he's smart af and a shapeshifter and a master magician and genderfluid, Loki "fails" to fit the super fucking toxic and narrow Norse/Aesir view of "a real man". He prefers intelligence and manipulation to solve problems rather than violence, he's not afraid to behave like a clown if it gets shit done, and that grosses the Aesir out, so they constantly ridicule him for being "less than a man".

Loki is the God of the outcast and the misunderstood. The marginalized people from all walks of life. He is the God of the LGBT community. In modern terms, he's pansexual, polyamorous (married to Sigyn and they are deeply in love, but boy gets around and I've never seen any indication that Sigyn gives a shit) and genderfluid.

Okay. Focus, Ali. This is part of why I usually post multiple rants instead of one big long one XD The longer I ramble, the more I get sidetracked and forget the original point.

So. Loki's awesome, and being a Trickster, is powerful as all fucking hell. There's not much he can't do.

And now we come to Thor (the movie, not the deity). Loki's there! 24-year-old Ali is spazzing! All is right with the world!

Oh lord, they've actually done him justice?! Amazing! He's complex and nuanced and emotional, just like the real Loki! I loved this movie. Loved. It. The climactic thing with trying to blow up Jotunheim never really made much sense to me until someone made an excellent point the other day about Loki being raised in a racist society that was racist against his own race, he just didn't know it yet, poor child. Baby Thor was never corrected when he pledged to commit mass genocide, so Baby Loki probably absorbed the lesson then that Jotunns=evil and killing them all will win his father's love. Anyway, 2011 Loki was a beautiful, heartbreaking portrayal of the God I've loved all my life and spent 24 years longing to see depicted on the big screen.

Then The Avengers happened. And I saw another Loki very close to Norse mythology - mainly, how he's treated. In the beginning of the movie, he's sick, exhausted, and in pain. He can hardly stand, he stumbles and needs help when he walks. He was very obviously tortured, and the sickly blue light of the scepter's control is in his eyes. That gets less and less pronounced as the movie goes on, showing Loki working his way free of it, but in the beginning, he's a mess. Because he was tortured and used by Thanos. Marvel directly confirmed this, and that he was under the scepter's/Mind Stone's control. Loki's actions are not his own in The Avengers. He's under both threat and Thanos' direct control. The movie actually shows The Other directly threatening him to keep him on task, because this is not Loki's plan. It is not what he wants. He's being used and villainized... Just like in real life. It hurt to see this done to him, but the accuracy was too beautiful to ignore.

Thor: The Dark World comes out. I've heard people complain that this movie is the weak link in the Thor trilogy. I disagree. I think that's Ragnarok, for a bunch of reasons, but we'll get there. (And for the record, I loved Ragnarok, too. It was a funny movie. Infinity War and the Disney+ series are the only portrayals of Loki in the MCU that I truly fucking hated.) Anyway, good, fun movie. Had its faults, as all movies do, but it still followed Loki's real-life arc in a way. How? By having Loki dragged back to Asgard in chains and imprisoned underground. Again, not super happy that this happened to my love, and having to see it on screen was painful, but at least in the MCU he's not chained to a rock with venom dripping on his face for eternity, so there's that. (poor Sigyn. how tired do her arms get, holding up that bowl? best wife ever, amirite?)

In TDW, we're shown Loki's love for Frigga, who favored him and taught him magic as a child. We see his bravado; his attempts to mask his true feelings, especially grief. We see him slowly coming back to himself after the events of The Avengers, and slowly mending his relationship with his brother. He accepts that Odin will likely never love him, but Thor just might, because they were close when they were young. "I didn't do it for him." No, no my sweet, you did it for your brother, and a little out of guilt for what happened to your mother.

At the end, Loki fakes his death and escapes, taking the throne, and I have mixed feelings about this. Not the writer's choices here; I love that completely! A natural progression in Loki's story. But my joy is tainted by how closely they're following the Eddas now. Because Loki's escape from his prison heralds the beginning of Ragnarok. And Loki will die in Ragnarok. I don't want to see that play out in front of my face. I won't be able to handle the grief (spoiler alert! IW broke me. I almost walked out of the theater. Loki's death was legitimately fucking traumatic for me. I don't even care how pathetic that is. That grief was real, it was intense, and I still shake and cry when I think about it.)

Marvel announces that Thor 3 will be called Ragnarok. The internet treats this as a shocking revelation. I roll my eyes and mumble "duh" to myself and move on XD

Then they say Ragnarok will be a buddy comedy. I throw up a little in my mouth and no longer want to live on this planet. If they're going to make something called Ragnarok, could they at least treat it with even a fraction of the respect they've shown these characters thusfar? Jfc. I mean, I'll see it anyway, because I'm a whore for Tom Hiddleston lol. But come on, people!

I hated that they made Hel the long-lost older sister and Fenrir her fucking pet/attack dog. Those are my favorites of Loki's children! Hel is such an incredible badass that the early Christians named their dimension of eternal torture after her! They were terrified of her, to the point of naming the place that terrified them most after her. That's awesome! And Fenrir's just the best. I love wolves. Those two details, and Odin's retcon of "we're not Gods! ...lol, except your sister. she's totally a Goddess. and def gonna kill literally everything, so... good luck! byyyeeeee" pissed me off royally.

The rest was great. I genuinely liked this movie. Still do. And they finally used The Immigrant Song! That was pretty cool. If they'd thrown in Bring the Hammer Down and Thunderstruck, I might've called this movie perfect. XD

I wasn't totally in love with their portrayal of Loki in Ragnarok. Yes, the falling for 30 minutes line was funny, as was "I have to get off this planet" and "YES! That's how it feels!" And "Get Help" was funny as hell. But also, like... There is no way Loki would have been the dumb one in that first encounter with Hela. Also, he can teleport and project copies of himself and shit, so... He would not have been that desperate to go straight back to Asgard and bring her right along with them. Loki's not stupid. But whatever. Movie's gotta movie.

What I did love was seeing the slow mending of his relationship with Thor continuing, and the badass fighting on the bridge. I also loved that, like Real Loki, Movie Loki helped when help was needed, was quick and clever, and while he was carrying out the main plan, he was also planning ahead and grabbing the Tesseract. Yes, that drew Thanos right to them, but that's a whole other thing. Loki never would have left that thing on Asgard to be destroyed or lost.

And now Infinity War. Hooooly fucking shit. You know what? No. I'm not going into this. He was killed, years of character growth were erased forever, my heart fucking shattered. The end.

Endgame. IW hurt me so bad I didn't see Endgame until this year. I actually watched Civil War first (for context: I had actively avoided all Cap movies until this year because I fucking hate Steve Rogers. I find him insufferable. Did not realize what I was denying myself until I watched CW and finally saw the charms of Bucky. When he appeared in IW, I was so lost. XD I was like "...who dis? Murder Jesus?" also I just... didn't care. I was numb by then from crying through most of the movie over Loki)

So, anyway. Endgame. Loki picks up the Tesseract in alternate 2012, escapes, fans go "yay! he didn't actually die!" I go "yes he fucking did. Five years of his life, gone. Five years of growth and change, erased. Loki is dead. This will not be the same."

I was more right than I could have predicted. Now we come to the point of this rant. Sorry it took so long, but you were warned lol.

The Loki series makes me so angry I actually get sick to my stomach. It was fucking TRASH. When I praised Marvel for following Norse mythology so faithfully earlier? Yeah. I DID NOT MEAN TREAT HIM THE WAY THE OTHER GODS DID. I did not mean paint him as a pitiful clown, a joke, a caricature of who he truly was, with his pain and suffering played for LAUGHS.

This is supposed to be 2012 Loki, newly freed from Thanos' control. The Loki we saw in the beginning of TDW - snarky, exhausted, nihilistic. The Loki who rolled his eyes and said "get on with it" expecting to be killed.

The bumbling clown flipping on a dime from posturing to calling himself weak is not 2012 Loki. That is not ANY Loki. That is Tom Hiddleston in a black wig doing what he's told by a shitty writer who had no fucking idea what he was doing and was salty about his (bad) original script (for something totally fucking unrelated) getting killed.

In Episode 1, Loki is mocked, imprisoned, stripped against his will, tormented, belittled, and given a flippant summary of all the trauma Actual MCU Loki suffered that this one skipped out on, with no context, no acknowledgement of the trauma he's already lived quite fucking recently, and with the narrative twisted to not only erase all the abuse he's suffered, but to make it all his fault. And this is supposed to make him want to help these people?

And worse, IT FUCKING WORKS. WHAT?! I CAN'T- FUCKING WHAT?! Remember when I said LOKI IS NOT FUCKING STUPID?! So why is he STUPID?

Episode 2, he's a child. Mentally, this Loki is a fucking child. Now we've erased all the growth and development of his entire adult life. He's dopey, impatient, impulsive, desperate for a pat on the back and actually shows it. Yes, abused and neglected children crave the positive attention we never received, and we often grow up to be a bit emotionally stunted. But not all of us, and not Loki. Not as we've seen him EVER in the rest of the MCU. Playful and a bit callous at times? Absolutely! But not a big dumb fucking puppy.

Episode 3, a ray of hope, despite Sylvie! (I hate Sylvie) Loki casually admits he's pan/bi; labels never come up, but he admits to being with both men and women! He sings! Not really relevant to whether I approve of his portrayal or not lol but Tom has a beautiful voice, Norwegian ("Asgardian" lol) is a gorgeous, entrancing language, and I could watch that one bit on loop for eternity and never get bored. And then, finally, we see a glimpse - a glimpse - of Loki's power! He stops a falling building and pushes it right back up! Are we finally getting to see what he can really do? Will the next episode bring us Loki in all his glory?

Nope. 4 and 5 we see him mocked and pushed around and utterly irrelevant. Again. We see tiny reflections of what he could maybe theoretically do in other random Loki variants, but the "main" (lawl. main. it was the Sylvie and Mobius show. Loki was never the main anything.) Loki? Nothing. He wears his heart on his sleeve for no reason, bonds with the man who imprisoned, taunted, and gaslit him, is killed, and continues to be a moron and a joke. Always the clown. Always the dumb one. The one with the bad ideas. The inferior Loki.

Don't even get me started on that finale. I can't. This already took so much out of me. Fuck Marvel. Fuck this fucking show. I just... I'm done.

#loki #loki spoilers #loki series #loki negativity #loki hate #thor 2011 #the dark world #ragnarok #the avengers #infinity war #endgame #fuck sylvie #fuck marvel #fuck disney #this show sucked #ragepost #rant #long post #ali is angry

[justjessame]

Glorious, Before the Burden - The Mourning ~ 4

I woke to find Loki bare beside me - lying on top of the blankets, skin as pale and toned as it had been on the first time he sat still and allowed me to trace his lines - only now I understood why he was cooler to the touch than I, why his temperature was the perfect compliment to my heat.  As I drank in the vision of him in repose, peaceful and serene, a flash of uncertainty came over me.  Distrust ran up my spine as cold as his cheek had grown under my hand when  he’d shown me what he insisted was his true form - and I slid out of our bed.  

My husband’s powers were as vast as Frigga had always said magic could be - and far different from my own, another interesting facet of magic - how it manifested differently for each practitioner.  Frigga and Loki were quite similar, as parent and child it was to be expected - even if he was adopted - and one of the ways their magic manifested was through illusion and duplication - of themselves.  Bile rose in my throat as I felt the horror of realization strike me - HE promised he was HERE, and while TRUE in a sense, it was still a LIE.  

I was dressed and curled in the window seat, my head leaning against the chill of the glass as the dawn broke - nothing below in the garden seemed amiss, but here, in our rooms nothing was at all right.  Had anything ever BEEN?  

Loki - or at least a part of him - woke slowly and took note quickly that he was alone on our bed.  He found me just as quickly, sitting up with temptation ready on his silver tongue - but I sighed and shook my head before he could utter it.  

“Have you ever actually shared our bed with me?”  I couldn’t look at him - this version of him, not yet.  “The REAL you, I mean.”  

“Darling,” his reflection looked confused, perfect actor that even his duplicate could be.  “What are you talking about?”  He held out his hand and I knew he was about to tell me to come back to bed, but I cut him off at the pass.  

“You accused me, when I was given the trip to Midgard with you, of forgetting my powers,” a humorless laugh managed to break free.  “Apparently it happens to me quite often, I forgot YOUR powers, my prince.”  Mirror Loki’s jaw tensed, but I continued.  “I went to your mother, upset that we haven’t been blessed with a child -” his head dropped to his lap.  “I assumed I was at fault,” my eyes burned.  “Perhaps it’s simply because I’ve been sharing our bed with your duplicate all these years.”  

“Or because I’m a monster, Sigyn -” I shook my head and another dark laugh came out.  “You ignore it because you wish to pretend it doesn’t matter -”

“I ignore it because it doesn’t,” I bit out.  “You change the subject because it suits your case, Loki.”  I turned away from the window and finally met his gaze.  “THIS,” gesturing at the naked form that was an exact copy of the prince I adored, “ISN’T the REAL YOU, IS IT?”  

He swallowed hard, I could see his Adam’s apple bob.  “I can feel everything this body does, my love,” the tears that had threatened to fall finally did.  “Please, Sigyn, you must understand -”

I felt like I was losing my mind.  “I MUST understand?”  Now that they started, I couldn’t stop them, my face was awash with the dampness of my pain.  “I MUST understand that you find a throne - a chance at being KING more important than ME?  Than US?”  I was breaking apart inside.  “You’ve just caused me to call into question every moment that we’ve had together, Loki, every single second - if you LIED to me about being HERE now, then were you EVER HERE?”  

“Sigyn,” quiet and simple, yet I couldn’t help but hear every single person who had warned me against him.  My parents, all those women who had simpered and whispered - who I had thought were just jealous of my good fortune, Thor’s own friends, all telling me that Loki couldn’t be trusted.  That HE above all others should be denied.  And here was the proof.  “Please?”  

“Please?”  I gasped, a sob building.  “Please?”  I collapsed to the floor of our room, gown a puddle around me.  “Please, what?  Please forget that out of EVERYONE who warned me off of you - only YOUR OWN FAMILY, Thor and Odin included, told me that you were WORTHY of me.  That you’ve made me a fool and yet, here I sit, loving you still?”  He moved to get off the bed, but I sobbed harder and begged him to NOT come to me.  “If you ever loved me, DON’T.”  

Loki - the version that was with me in our rooms - magically dressed himself and stayed put on our bed while I cried myself out.  Once I managed to regain some semblance of composure, my posture returned, but I remained on the floor.

“Where are you?”  My eyes met his across the distance I’d requested we keep.  He started to answer with the simple and obvious one, but I shook my head.  “WHERE ARE YOU?”  

“Odin has fallen into a bout of Odinsleep,” he was quiet, thoughtful, and as careful as I had been when he showed me the Frost Giant just below his surface.  “I’m with Mother, and I’ll act as King in his stead.”  

A huff of humorless laughter, would I ever regain a true sense of humor?  “I’m sure that gives you no joy,” poor Frigga.  “How is your mother?”  

“At his side,” of course, as a wife and partner should be.  “She assures me that I AM her son.”

I would say I told him so, but why?  “Is that the ONLY place you are?”  I know Loki, or think I do.  His eyes flash and tell me he was unaware of how well I do know my husband.  “Shocked?”  

“Impressed, my love.”  A smile or smirk lurks just behind his serious mouth.  “I’ve found Thor - Fath- ODIN,” old habits, perhaps die hard, “has banished him to Midgard.” Of course, where could be worse to one of OUR kind?  “He’s miserable, he cannot wield Mjølnir.”  

“And you went to offer him -” studying my husband - copy or not, it was still a part of him - I knew precisely what Loki offered him.  “Mischief indeed.  You’ve told him Odin is dead.”  

“How did you -” His eyes narrowed.  “Wife, have you been hiding pieces of yourself from me?”  

The smile that grew across my face startled him.  “Whyever would you think that, husband?”  

The piece of Loki that was with me left, to rejoin the main part of my husband - frustrated and angry with me - but since I was less than pleased with him, I couldn’t be too fussed with making amends.  I went to find Frigga, to sit with her and Odin - to lend her my comfort and to hopefully find some of my own. 

#loki #loki x sigyn #loki series #thor 2011 #sigyn #alternate universe #mention of smut #angst #bear with me

[hela-avenger]

poison & wine- part 14

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1494

Summary: Prince Loki of Asgard is in need of a date to take back home. That’s where you come in with a task of your own to make the whole trip with an insufferable prince worth it. Too bad that things don’t always go as planned and you end up giving more than you can take. Fake-Dating AU.

A/N:  Things are getting good! There’s more drama to come so stay tuned. Also thanks for reading everyone. I love seeing all your excited comments! Please let me know if you’ll like to be tagged!

Hela-Avenger Masterlist

“You don’t know who your father is?!” 

You let out a sigh at the sound of Loki’s alarmed voice in the room. You had failed to notice his appearance and you blamed the magical doors that apparently allowed anyone inside without hesitation. 

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” you ask. “Perhaps maybe privacy?” 

“You had me believe you knew who your father was,” Loki states in annoyance.

“It’s not my fault you fell for my lie,” you shrug confused as to why he was so worked up by your revelation. “Though it really wasn’t a lie. You made an assumption and didn’t think of confirming it.” 

Loki rolls his eyes at your technicality not amused at your current tactic to get under his skin. 

“Then what is the purpose of all this? Why are you even here?” 

“Because I do want information on my father such as who he is,” you clarify. “And I want to meet him.”

“I didn’t sign up for this...” 

“Yes, you did! You made a deal!” 

Loki opens his mouth to argue this further but Frigga steps in. 

“You two are being quite loud,” Frigga calmly states. “I understand that this revelation isn’t what we were all hoping for but we must plan accordingly. Y/N is still in need of your protection, Loki, and because you made a deal with her, you will honor it.”

Frigga turns to look at you with a promising expression. 

“We will find who your father is and we will protect you along the way.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

Frigga nods in response and turns back to look at Loki.

“Now, why have you come unannounced to my chambers, son?” Frigga asks. “You interrupted a private conversation.” 

Loki scowls at being reprimanded but doesn’t comment on it. 

“Odin has asked for Y/N,” Loki states. “He wishes for our courtship to follow Asgardian traditions which means…”

“He wants to offer his blessing,” Frigga frowns. “And more…” 

You scowl at the addition and wonder what you could have possibly signed up for. As if sensing your concern, Frigga turns to you and offers you an encouraging smile.

“Don’t fret,” she tells you. “All will be explained.” 

This doesn’t assure you at all. Being called to speak to Odin about your courtship with no preparation at all was just a recipe for disaster. 

“Now you two get going,” Frigga orders. “If you waste more time, Odin will grow suspicious.” 

You don’t need to be told twice and Loki is quick to offer his arm for you to take. You slip your hand to the crook of his arm and allow him to escort you out. The silence you’re met with after should have been a reprieve except you knew Loki was still reeling from your revelation.

“I’m sorry I tricked you,” you find yourself apologizing to him. “I just… I knew this would be the reaction.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“Well it seems like you do,” you point out. “You’re upset.” 

Loki’s scowl deepens and you don’t understand why he’s taken such offense. 

“Why are you so upset?” 

“I’m tired of people making a fool of me,” Loki grits out as he glared down at you. “I may be the God of Lies but that doesn’t mean I enjoy being lied to.” 

“You know you’re being hypocritical seeing as you lied to me first,” you argue. “You manipulated me into this courtship by withholding vital information. Your mother herself said you even have your own selfish reasons in doing so… so don’t act so hurt when I’ve been playing this game the same way you are.”

Loki’s glare is still intense but the tension in his body disappears. You had a point. You knew you had a point. And you knew he hated that you were right. 

“We will discuss this later,” Loki sighs out. “For now, act happy and in love with me.”

You immediately take a deep breath and smile softly up at him. 

“Is that loving enough for you?” 

“You’re insufferable,” Loki mutters as he turns away from you. “Now keep up. We’re about to have quite an audience.” 

You hope he’s lying to you this time, but he isn’t. The moment you enter the courtyard, there is a brief moment of silence before whispers take its place. All eyes are on you and Loki causing you to hold on to him a little tighter.  

Surprisingly enough, he looks down at you with a soft smile and raises your hand to press a light kiss on it. You almost believe he’s being sincere but you are reminded that this is all a lie. Either way, the act eases you enough that you are able to ignore the whispers that uttered your name and continue forward. 

Loki leads you to the throne room where you find King Odin waiting. He remains as serious as you first met him. His gaze picking you apart in the few seconds that you’ve been in his presence. 

“Lady Y/N,” he greets. 

“Your majesty,” you greet in return as you offer a slight bow. 

“Thank you for coming,” Odin states, his expression never wavering. “It seems like my son left a few details out last night when we first met.” 

You can’t help but glance over at Loki unsure of how you were meant to respond to that. 

“Odin, do not accuse her…” 

You squeeze Loki’s arm in alarm. You didn’t know what you would do if they both got into an argument at this moment. 

“Forgive me… forgive us for keeping the information secret. It was a decision we both agreed on when Loki decided to bring me to Asgard,” you interrupt him. “We were… We were unsure of how you would take it and in all honesty, I was scared enough to be here as a guest. Loki didn’t want to add more onto my plate so we decided to keep this to ourselves.” 

Odin hums at your response. His expression softening slightly as he considered your words. 

“I can’t forgive you,” Odin states, causing you and Loki to tense in alarm. “For there is nothing to forgive you for. I understand your unique situation and I wish nothing but happiness for the both of you. That said, you have my blessing under one simple condition.” 

You glance over at Loki in apprehension but he just scowls in annoyance. 

“Your relationship may be advanced in Midgardian tradition but I wish to see it under the structure of courtship in Asgard.” 

Loki lets out an exasperated sigh but knew better than to argue with Odin at the moment.  

“There will be certain traditions I hope you may follow,” Odin explains with a smile that you can’t help but believe be of amusement. “We will start simple with an act of gift giving and then progress to banquets so you may introduce your relationship to Asgardian society. From there, well… we shall see if you’ll reach the next stage.” 

You try to make sense of what he’s requesting. It seems simple enough that you don’t understand why Odin believed your lie would collapse before then. 

“Loki honoring our tradition, you will give Lady Y/N a blade crafted for her use only,” Odin states. “As for you, Lady Y/N, it is tradition that a woman shall give her partner a handmade shirt for him to wear. You will show off these gifts of affection on your first banquet which will be two nights from now.”

That was a quick turnaround and you now realized the king was hoping to set you up to fail. You didn’t understand the urgency of doing so but you knew that those secrets that Loki has been hiding were most likely the answer to your question.  

“I hope that won’t be too much trouble.” 

You were not someone so easily scared off and you enjoyed a good challenge here and there.

“Not at all,” you respond to Odin as you offer him a smile. “If this is what you wish, then so be it.” 

Odin seems to realize that you were no stranger with a battle of authority. Perhaps you and Loki were a true match if that were the case. 

“If that is all, Odin, we wish to retire to our rooms,” Loki states. “It has been quite a day.” 

“Ah yes, you may take your leave,” Odin responds watching as Loki escorts you out. The moment the doors are about to be open he speaks again. “There should be no need of me to remind you that though you may be sharing a room, your actions have consequences. Please do try to avoid another scandal.”

Loki drags you away at Odin’s parting words in fear that you might bite his head off at the accusation made. He was right in doing so as your face had grown red in a mix of embarrassment and anger. 

“Your father’s an ass.” 

Loki could only laugh in agreement.

poison & wine tag: @damalseer​ @just-the-hiddles​ @jessiejunebug​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @smollest-soybean​ @assassinoftheworld​ @readerbandit​ @doyoufeelikeayounggod​ @strangemcuvlogs​ @ha-tep​ @i-dont-know-eiither​ @gene-king​ @day-dreaming-fox​ @bn-studies​ @is-it-madness​ @sigyn-njorddottir​ @devilbat​ @victor-criss-bish​ @skinny-macncheese​ @musicconversedance​ @baby-bunnyxn​ @fandoms-allovertheplace​ @marvelloonie​ @jinxjinxednova​ @queenmuahaha​

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas​ @thesilentbluesparrow​ @oddly-drawn-muse​ @josiehosiedaninja​ @hp-hogwartsexpress​ @sadwaywardkid​ @wolf-lover74​

All Works Tag: @jmb959​ @astudyoftimeywimeystuff​ @hellocookiecutter​ @steve-rogers-personal-hell​ @buckybarnesyard​ @not-zari-tak

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x ofc #loki x oc #prince loki x reader #prince loki x you #prince loki x ofc #prince loki x oc #poison & wine part 14 #marvel au #thor au #avengers au #fake dating au #Prince Loki of Asgard #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #fluff #angst #loki #loki series #loki fic #loki fanfic #prince loki #reader fic #reader-insert

[sigyn-loves-loki]

Loki felt himself pulled through a very narrow portal where he finally ended up at a place between two realms, the realm of the living and that of the dead. In a distance, he saw her figure, the translucent white dress still on her body.

"Sigyn!" Loki called and she turned to face him.

"Loki." she said, "I don't have words to say. I, um.."

"Ssshhh..." Loki said, "don't talk. Let me see you.

"But I have to tell you this. I'm not dead Loki."

"Oh, thank the norns. You don't know what days I passed without you. How misserable everything was. Why did you do this?"

"I know. I saw everything. I was there, always. I'm not dead, but I'm not alive as well. I'm struck here. In this realm. This is the passageway to walk into Vallahala. I can't pass it. My half life is stopping me from entering either realms. You have to help me. You have to help me release my semi-fluid body, so that I can finally die."

"Die? What do you mean?"

"Yes. I need your help to die properly."

"Sigyn. This is the day I am getting back my life by knowing that you're not dead, not entirely dead. I am not going to the same place by helping you walk into Valhalla."

"But......."

"Think of your children, if you can't think of me. Vali and Narfi has become so quiet after you left. I'm going to bring you back."

"You can't. I've tried. It's not possible to bring back a half dead being back to life."

"You may have tried. But I haven't yet. Wait for me. I promise you, today and now, that I, Loki Odinson, your lover and your husband, will bring you back to life. I promise you Sigyn."

The next thing Loki knew was that to wake up from his half concious state and run to Dr. Strange and Thor. He told them everything he learnt from Sigyn and asked them what can be done.

"I need to go to the Sanctum, now." Stephen said.

"And we, need to go to Asgard." said Thor, "to mother. She will know what can be done."

"Yes brother." said Loki.

The two ran to Frigga and Odin's chamber. Frigga opened the door and spotted her sons breathless due to running. She looked at her favourite son and said, "Seriously? You still remember the address of your mother's house? I'm amazed Loki!"

"Mother, I appologise for my behaviour. But there's something very important to tell you now."

"Yes mother. Let us come in." Thor said.

Odin also got up from his sleep. He shouted "What's the chaos? Thor? Loki? What are you two doing here at this hour of the night?"

"We need some privacy mother. Can we talk in a room where no one is shouting? Because we have something very important to talk about." said Loki.

Frigga shaked her head in disappointment and asked them to move to her private chambers where she practiced her charms and witchcraft. She mentioned them two chairs and sat on her sofa.

Thor and Loki looked at each other before beginning. Then Loki told her everything he knew about the incident from Sigyn's narration.

Frigga gave a jump from her seat in excitement and said "Oh I knew it!!! I knew it Loki, I knew she was there, she was alive. That it was her fake dying just as mischievous as you my dear son. Remember Thor, I said she was alive, and you two never believed me. We could have brought her back a year ago. It's been such a long time. Wait, wait, I must have something here." she said and went to her bookself of magical charms and magic.

Frigga searched through her books in her charms library but was disappointed to find nothing. She said, "It isn't here. Wait, I need to check the Palace Library. You two come with me."

The three went to the huge library of the Palace and started searching through the isles. It took them the entire night and the whold day to look all the books. Thor got bored coz he was never a boy who liked reading books, but still kept on going just to help Sigyn. Loki and Frigga did most of the searching and reading. All these reading of piles of books and going through the old magical records of old Asgardian documents, didn't bring them to any solution. They still couldn't find the solution to bring back someone from half life.

"It's not possible!" Frigga said and sat on the chair.

"Mother, there must be a way. There must be. Didn't you say it was a prophecy? But she isn't dead, so there must be a glitch in the propechy? Who told you the prophecy?" Loki asked.

"The high priestess of the temple of ancient runes."

"Maybe she could help?" Thor asked.

And she did. The high priestess was one of tge oldest persons in all of Asgard so there was so much knowledge in her. She knew of everything and most of the prophecies came from her. She smiled when she saw the Queen and the princes to come to her temple.

"The princess is right. She is having a half life. It is easier to help her cross the path to Valhalla, but to bring her back, it's not going to be easy."

"But you're not saying impossible?" Loki asked.

The priestess smiled, "No, my Prince."

"Lets see." she went to a very very ancient book, whose pages were half ruined. She said, "Two moons later, it is the night of the red moon. Hmm...and.... Yes, found it my Queen." she looked at them and continued, "Tommorrow is the thirteenth day of the astrological month. Very holy day. I am giving you the list of elements to bring me as soon as possible. These are," she scribbled a long list, "then I'll tell you the rest.

Loki did everything. Even though the things were very hard to find, but with an extra pair of helping hand of Stephen Strange, it became easier. Loki couldn't believe he was going to kill this man.

Things were brought, a huge fire was lit up in the centre of the temple. Four priests along with the high priestess and two sorcerers, Frigga and Loki started doing the most hardest ritual in the history of Asgard. It took them two days to complete the process. After finishing, the high priestess told Loki "Now, my Prince, you have to bring the Sorcerer's Stone. And give your wife the Elixir of life so that she can come back in the world of the living."

"The sorcerer's stone?" Loki asked.

"I know about it. A wizard in England is said to have it. His name is Nicolas Flamel." said Strange.

"Can you bring it?" asked Frigga.

"Yes my lady." he replied.

The wizard who was supposed to have that stone refused to give it, saying it is not his own property to give away but he shares its credit with another wizard. So Loki came up with the idea of stealing it. "Oh Stephen, I know stealing is not a good thing to do, besides, it's not stealing at all, we will return it to him once our task is done." So they had to steal it. They brought back the stone to Asgard and gave it to the priestess. She used the stone to create the elixir of life that Sigyn had to drink but through the same portal where she is struck.

"Keep it in a chamber in the north east corner of the palace in between night and dawn. Don't look, don't wait. She will come and drink it. And then at the stroke of the midnight hour of the seventh moon, she shall come back." said the priestess.

Those seven days were the toughest for Loki. Tougher than the year he passed without Sigyn. He didn't sleep, didn't eat, didn't move from his room. He didn't practically do any work. The sun rose, it set and the moon came, one after the other. And then on the seventh moon Loki was the most impatient. Not only Loki, Frigga too wasn't able to sleep. She sat on her couch with a blanket on her body waiting for Sigyn to come running through her door just like she did in older times. Thor paced his room in impatience, walking from one side to the other, eagerly waiting for midnight to strike.

And then it finally happened. At the stroke of midnight, all the clocks stopped. A tint of light from the northern side of the Palace was observed. Slowly, the light passed through every room, waiting and observing, stopped just before entering the correct one.

The knobs in Loki's door turned, his eyes was fixed at his door for too long. It didn't mistake when it opened and through it, Sigyn came. Her golden hair flowing down her shoulder, playfully falling over her breasts. She was wearing a light green gown and had the same beauty as she had always been.

Loki jumped off his bed and ran to pick his wife in his arms. It was her, it was really her. His Sigyn, his beloved Sigyn. "You did it my lord!" Sigyn said.

"Oh darling. You bag of mischief. You have taken my life, what did you think? I am not worthy of bringing you back?" Loki kissed Sigyn in a way as if his whole life depended on that kiss. And wasn't it?

All of Asgard was happy when they got the news of the returning of their Princess. Frigga arranged for a proper wedding ceremory of Sigyn and Loki and a nine day long feast in the Palace. All their Avengers friends from Midguard were invited. The higher Gods and Goddesses of Asgard announced in the feast that because of the great sacrifice Sigyn has done for Asgard, they will grant her immune power and bless her to be the greatest soccerer in all the nine realms. She has proved herself to be the true Goddes of Fidelity. Now they honor her with the title of being the Goddes of Victory.

Vali and Narfi has now got attached to Midguard, so Sigyn and Loki had to settle in Earth in a country-side small cozy home. They visited Asgard for the holidays. Thor marraid Jane and had a beautiful daughter who had blond hair and blue eyes like Thor. They made Loki and Sigyn as her godparents.

All the Avengers were also happy having Sigyn in their team as the Goddes of Victory made sure that they always win. Stephen and Tony finally got married and adopted a son Peter. Steve and Buck continued to be the best example of lovers and to take their relationship to next level, were planning for adoption.

Just like any other fairytale, Sigyn and Loki, along with their sons, went on living happily ever after.

THE END.

Thank you everyone!!! ♥

[sinnhelmingr]

thinking about how my boda and sigyn both gave hel such effective representation of what a powerful woman can be. angrboda rules a whole realm, and sigyn was a powerful counselor in the court of the allfather, and the pair never flinched before their enemies. they made their own way, winning alliances and refusing to be the lesser of anyone. and even still, despite boda being a force of nature heard across the nine realms and sigyn being a steel spine wrapped in silk, the pair were soft as roses for their daughter, and taught her not only to be strong, but also when to let it go and be soft, to be loved, to show love, to belong to your community as much as you rule and guide it.

it is apparent which lessons took root best within her mind.

#where mothers weakness goes [ANGRBODA] #bless all those mothers who do all they can [SIGYN] #they can't get into my head [HEADCANON]

[sinnhelmingrmoved]

i always find it interesting the way nurture has had an effect on hel just as much as nature. like. you can neatly halve where she picked up certain character traits as worth emulating, as something to aspire to. divvy up the three parents she has had in her life and you get a cursory glance at who hel is at heart before outside influence began to twist her.

like, she’s the brain, the quick-thinker, the scholar. she loves adventures and will wander freely when her time is hers, never tethered by her own machinations. that is pure loki, all wit and independence.

but she’s also willful, her will be done within her own realm, her power be respected when abroad. she is a wonderful leader who can make the hard decisions and have others follow her into oblivion itself. that is what makes her angrboda’s daughter, though she frets that she is somehow weak compared to her birth mother.

and then there are the parts of hel that want to heal, to put others at ease and make all welcome in her presence. endurance follows, the fact she can withstand anything without flinching, without letting others see the toll cruelties have taken on her. in all of that, she has become like sigyn, equal parts kindness and iron.

i just!!! have a lot of feelings about hel clinging to her parents virtues to guide her in some ways!! whether this is intentional or just how they left their marks on her!!!

#your last serving daughter [LOKI] #where mother's weakness goes [ANGRBODA] #bless all those mothers who do all they can [SIGYN] #they can't get into my head [HEADCANON]

[writernotwaiting]

Fallen Angels, ch. 23

Chapter 23 – Before: “Seven for a Secret”  Chapter Summary: In which Loki and Sigyn have some issues they need to work through. The action here picks up immediately after the events of chapter 22 in which Loki embarked on a campaign to teach the Aesir some respect, Sigyn was none too pleased with this, and Sigyn was “invited” to take up residence in the palace proper. Rating: E for the story overall; M for this chapter. If you are under 18, go read something else! Characters: Loki, Sigyn, Thor, Anna (ofc), Balder (might-as-well-be-omc), Amora (a might-as-well-be ofc), Odin, Elli (a stone giantess and might-as-well-be-ofc), Cyril (omc), Tyr Story Description: a post-apocalyptic, MCU-Norse mythos mash-up; science fiction/fantasy

I will re-blog with the tags.  I would be glad to add to or remove from the tag list at your request.

Bless you, again to @icybluepenguin, without whom this chapter would be a skeleton of its current self.

I would like to dedicate this chapter to my readers in Texas: @marvelousmissfit, @indomitablemegnolia, and anyone else whom I am unaware of. I hope this serves as a temporary distraction to What Mother Nature Hath Unleased Upon You.

Ch. 1: Walking with unblest feet

 Ch. 22: Never Say that I Was False of Heart Ch. 24: ?

One for sorrow, Two for joy, Three for a girl, Four for a boy, Five for silver, Six for gold, Seven for a secret, Never to be told. Eight for a wish, Nine for a kiss, Ten for a bird, You must not miss. [yes, I totally stole the idea to use this folk song from @incredifishface -- sue me] 

Norns, I’m tired. Loki rubbed his temple hard as his horse ambled up the road toward the lodge, and he sighed with deep relief as soon as the house came into view. As he got closer, though, his brow furrowed at the dark windows and smokeless chimney.

Sigyn should be home at this time of day.

His quick eye darted around the landscape, taking note: he could see lights in Anna and Torvald’s cottage, their older children still outside bent over a game in the fading light, Fenryr sprawled out next to them, but everything at the great house was quiet, even though the grass was trampled on the front lawn.

Maybe she stayed in the village with a patient. It was not unheard of, though it happened less often out here, because of her dislike for the local officials. Even if she were with a patient, though, that didn’t explain the great divots in the grass.

He turned his horse toward the cottage.

The two children stood as he got closer, and the taller reached up to take the reigns while Loki dismounted. Fenryr trotted over to nudge at Loki’s hand, wuffing softly for a scratch.

“Leif, where is Sigyn? Will she return soon?”

The two children exchanged worried looks before the boy answered, “She’s gone back to Asgard, Master Loki.”

[read more cut here]

“Back to Asgard? When.”

Before the child could answer, Torvald came out of the house, and Loki repeated his question. “Torvald, where is Sigyn?”

Torvald frowned, his brow scrunched in confusion. “Einherjahr came two weeks ago, master, and escorted her back to Asgard. They said she was to live in the palace.”

“What?”

“Did you not know?”

Loki shook his head as a sick feeling settled in his gut. “I’ve been away, and no message was sent.”

Torvald gestured to his son to take the horse over to the stable. “I am sorry, Master, I thought perhaps you were at court and had been told.”

Loki shook his head once more and drew close, “No. This is news to me. Is she ok? Who was the captain? Did they treat her well?”

“She is fine, though none too happy at the summons,” Torvald smiled ruefully as he said it. “The guard were led by Tyr. He was very respectful. They only just left four days ago.”

Loki dragged a hand through his hair as he contemplated what to do. “Tyr? I thought better of him than to carry out such a frivolous summons.”

Torvald shrugged. “He had the decency to apologize for it.”

Loki scoffed, “Pfft! What good is an apology like that? Empty words to ease a guilty conscience.”

Torvald shrugged again, implying that he expected no less, before he got a twinkle in his eyes. “She at least made them earn their pay before they left.”

Loki quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“She told them they might as well be useful while she packed up her things, since she wouldn’t be here to winterize the house. She put three of them to work cleaning the stables, and another raked out Anna’s fallow kitchen garden. Two of them hauled the carpets out of the parlor and beat the dirt out of them in the yard there. They loaded the wagon, then she made them unload it and re-pack everything before loading it all back on. Then she remembered a few more things that she could not do without. Then she had them dig through to the middle of the pile for a book she decided ought to remain here.  It was quite the thing to behold. They won’t forget their stay anytime soon.”

“Ha! I wish I had been here to see it.”

Torvald sobered. “I wish it, too.” He thought for a moment, staring at the dirt at his feet before looking up once more. “Where have you been, Master?”

Loki’s eyes flashed darkly at Torvald’s implications. “Are you forgetting something, Torvald?”

Torvald paused a long time before he answered, carefully taking in his master’s face. Loki had changed since they first met, back before the couple had moved to the city, before the fight with Thor, before the children had died. The mischievous glint in Loki’s eyes had lost much of its mirth, and while he had always been lean, what few curves he once possessed were now hardened into sharp angles.

Torvald’s voice grew heavy with melancholy. “No, Master, I know my place better than most, I imagine; it’s just that—“ Torvald lowered his voice considerably,  “it’s only that we are worried—Anna and I. Something is wrong out there. We know this. But something is wrong here, too,” and Torvald held a knotted fist to his chest, before reaching inside a breast pocket to pull something out. Loki began to turn away angrily, but Torvald risked a hand on his arm, and placed an emerald ring in Loki’s palm. “She left this here, in the kitchen. She thinks she is alone.”

Loki pulled his arm away, though not with the anger Torvald expected. He clutched his fist tight around the ring, jaw muscles working as he struggled for control. After a few short moments, Loki turned back to him, eyes hard as an ice floe. A decision had been made somewhere behind them.

“I will sleep a few hours in the lodge—just enough to make sure my horse is rested—then I will leave for the court—before light breaks if I can.”

Torvald nodded, watching Loki as he strode up to the big house before he went himself to check on his son’s work in the stable. As he did so, Torvald thought to himself that he was glad not to be counted among his master’s enemies. Loki had hardened into a glacier during these last few years, and to lay in his path would be to face certain obliteration, either in the explosive crash of an avalanche, or in the slow, inexorable crushing of ice and rock over the landscape. There was no longer any mercy in him.

*****

The first thing Loki did when he reached the city that clung like barnacles about the royal court was to go to their house to see if there had been any damage. There was. Of course. As soon as he turned into their street he could see the scrawling marks of vandals on the walls. He did not expect the guards—two at each door. These informed him that his “necessitous effects” had been removed to his palace suite, while the Allfather placed a few other items “in protective custody.” Loki leveled a look at the guard that nearly caused him to wet himself, though he somehow managed to hold his position.

*****

The second thing Loki did was confront the Allfather.

“I do not owe an accounting to you or anyone, Loki. I feel it safer for you to reside in the palace itself, and if the only way to accomplish that is to invite the healer, as well, then it shall be so.”

“My wife—she is my wife, and her name is Sigyn. Refusing to speak her name will not alter that fact.”

Odin continued as though Loki had not spoken, “I ordered that your personal items be brought from the house in town to your rooms here. All of your books, your bottles, concoctions, clothing, tools—along with all of the items she requires to ply her trade—everything was carried here in complete safety.”

“And what did you keep back?”

“There were some items that I deemed sensitive, and so placed them in secure conditions.”

“And these are?”

“A silver knife, some jewelry that seems to carry some sort of enchantment, a few papers, and Laufy’s dagger.”

“You have no right!—those jewels were wedding gifts from the dwarves and Utgard. Those blades are our house weapons.”

“I have every right! I am your father, Loki, but more than that, I am your king. They are in the vault, and there they shall remain as long as I see fit.”

“For what reason?”

“Safety.”

“Whose safety are we concerned about?”

“Asgard’s.”

*****

The third thing he did was to seek out his wife. He found her in an inner parlor, sitting rock still next to a balcony whose doors stood wide open. She stared into the middle distance, doing nothing. He leaned against the doorway. As he stood there, he closed his eyes briefly, just breathing in—the smell of a fireplace yet to be re-lit for the evening, the smells of the palace kitchen wafting in through the open balcony, the smell of the honeysuckle Sigyn must have brought from the lodge, and smell of the sage and lavender Sigyn used to launder her clothes and scent her bath. The ache in his heart grew.

At long last she addressed him without turning around, her voice flat, her sentences clipped. “Did you know about this?”

“No.”

“Where were you when the summons came?”

“Learning things.”

“When did you find out?”

“I spoke to Torvald. Apparently I only missed you by four days.” Loki smiled stiffly. “He tells me you made the Einherjahr earn their keep while you packed.”

She did not smile as she replied. “It was the least they could do.”

Loki remained in the doorway during the long pause that followed, anchored there by the cold pit that had settled in his core ever since he realized the full extent of the ugliness that had settled on Asgard. The weight in his chest intensified as he looked at his wife across the distance. He wondered what sort of Hel he had condemned her to, what sort of Hel he would willingly walk through in order to make her safe, to make everyone pay for her suffering.

Was it a half hour? An hour that they remained just so? It certainly felt like it. At long last, he crossed the room, sinking onto his knees next to her, hand on her thigh. He could feel her tension. He couldn’t, in fact, remember the last time his own shoulders hadn’t felt like strings on a guitar tuned too high.

He squeezed her leg gently, looking outside as he spoke next, “What has it been like here? What are you permitted to do?”

She snorted, lip curled into a snarl. “They tell me that I am granted complete freedom of movement, and I can come and go from the palace whenever I please. They tell me that I have open access to all public places within the palace, even the kitchens!”

“However . . .”

“I am shadowed.”

Loki’s breath hissed at this, but he nodded as though he rather expected it.

“Oh, it’s at a discreet distance, mind you, but omnipresent, and close enough that it was noticed by several of my patients and at least one shopkeeper who asked that I not come back—it makes people nervous.”

“Yes.”

“He took our wedding presents.”

“I know. I went to the house before coming here. The guard also said something about some papers?”

“Your letters.” Sigyn’s fists clenched tight on the arms of the chair. “They took the letters you wrote to me while you served as ambassador.”

“I should have guessed. Not yours?”

She smiled innocently, eyes wide. “They must have been lost when we moved. Oops.” She shrugged.

He chuckled and squeezed her leg once more. He shifted then, and began an inventory of the room. This was not the suite he had occupied growing up, but the rooms were still vaguely familiar. He had played enough games of hide and seek as a child to have been in and out of pretty much every corner and closet in the complex, and as an adolescent, he had made it his business to discover every nook and secret passageway. These rooms were much as he remembered, though the furnishings were perhaps not those that would have been laid out for more august guests. At least they had used his colors, rather than Thor’s.

“You have not been shielded.”

“I assumed not.” She patted his hand patronizingly. “Don’t worry, Loki, I have been a very good girl. Hardly any broken knick knacks.”

“Hmmph, that’s not why I asked.”

She shrugged and looked back outside. “You thought it.”

Loki sighed, then closed his eyes, mumbling as he started to work a few protections into the walls and ceiling so they could at least speak more freely. The room resisted these at first, which worried him, but gave way with more effort. When he felt he has assured them of some modicum of privacy, he looked up at Sigyn and smiled weakly. “I am sorry, Sigyn. For my long absences. It was not fair of me to leave you alone for so long.”

Sigyn shifted in her chair to face him. “It is not your physical absences that bother me. We certainly endured plenty of those during your exile. It is something else that I have missed. What has happened, Loki?” Her eyes searched his face as if reading some cryptic algorithm. “I hardly recognize what you’ve become—this creature consumed by vengeance. You have buried yourself.”

He dropped his gaze to the floor and knotted his fists. Of course she knew, though they had never spoken of it outright. She knew what he had been doing. Even when he answered, he couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes, gazing out past the balcony as he spoke, his voice barely audible. “I burn, Sigyn. I am full of rage. Every time I see my golden brothers hailed as the source of all that’s great and good, every time Odin leans over to ask Amora’s opinion of some matter of state, every time I hear some whispered slur—” he broke off, and finally turned to look up at her directly. “They must learn to respect me, to respect you.” He took up her hand. “You have more power in your left hand than Amora will wield in her entire lifetime! If you would only learn!”

“Stop.” She extricated her hand from his.

It was like arguing with a stone. His shoulders sagged. “I feel as though a net is tightening around us, and all I can do is watch. I have been tracking Balder and Amora. She has established a cult on Midgard, hundreds of little mortal sheep that she has duped into worshipping her with a little “faith healing” and prophecy. She drinks in their adoration, feeds on their worship. I have seen her intoxicated with it—quite literally. And when she returns to Asgard, she uses that power to create her golems. It takes tremendous amounts of energy to create the semblance of life. On her own, she would be lucky to have one or two of them, but she has created dozens, and she has convinced the All-father to utilize them in all sorts of places where an Einherjar would be too expensive.”

Sigyn ground her teeth. “Prophecy? When did she become a seer?”

“She has an artifact, a stone—I could feel its power even as I perched in a tree outside the temple. I do not know where she stole it from, but the stone gives her limited glimpses into the future. That is my next goal—to find where she keeps it hidden. Without it, her power will be greatly diminished.”

Sigyn scowled and across the room something shattered. “Why does He not do anything? Travel to Midgard is strictly prohibited. How, in all his infinite wisdom and all-seeing might, can he not know? What about Frigga? She knows everything?”

Loki couldn’t help but laugh under his breath, despite everything. “Do they keep replacing those as you break them?” then ducked swiftly to avoid the palm that nearly connected with his head, throwing his hands up in surrender before he continued, “Amora is a clever manipulator, and Odin sees only what he wants to see. . . As for Frigga . . . she has withdrawn from court. I have barely seen her in months. It’s as though she has retreated entirely. Have you seen her since you came here?”

“I have not seen her.” Sigyn hesitated. Then reached into a pocket of her breeches to pull something out wrapped in a bit of paper. “I did, however, find this under my pillow on my first night here.”

A pin for a cloak, decorated with a flock of magpies, seven of them, but space where one more had clearly been broken off.

“Is that all? No message?”

“On the paper.”

Perhaps you should do more research about your ancestry.

“Well that’s cryptic.”

“Yes.”

Loki handed the bundle back. “Have you?”

“Have I what?”

A smile spread over Loki’s face. “Done any more research?”

She scoffed. “How? That trail is long cold.”

“How long has it been since you’ve been to the library? Over 50 years? Well, guess who now lives in the palace with free access to all public places?”

“Oh yes, along with a free escort, to boot!”

His voice became all-over sweet. “But you will merely be researching your ancestry.”

“But I don’t know what I am looking for!”

“Look in your hand. I am the magpie—you know that. It has always been my favorite form for quick travel when I wish to avoid prying eyes. Frigga knows it, too. And there is an old Midgardian children’s rhyme about magpies: One for sorrow, Two for joy, Three for a girl, Four for a boy, Five for silver, Six for gold, Seven for a secret, Never to be told. Eight for a wish, Nine for a kiss, Ten for a bird, You must not miss.”

Sigyn looked at the brooch once more, fingering the empty space where the eighth bird had been broken off. “So . . . no wishes?”

“The time is past for wishing. We must do something. And that book of the Norns—it is full of secrets. I’m sure she believes we will find something there. ”

“So Frigga  . . . ?”

“Perhaps she also watches. She is a shapeshifter, and now that I think about it, I’ve seen a cat lurking about the temple that seems to have a double at Amora’s estate.”

Sigyn narrowed her eyes, the bitterness heavy on her tongue. “Then let Frigga do something about it. Why us? We are already living on the edge. Have we not paid enough for her husband’s blindness?”

“It is precisely because we are on the edge that we can act. Odin’s bureaucracy is too entrenched to take down from within. It must be demolished from without, and its corruption must be laid completely bare.”

Sigyn looked once more at the brooch, still playing with the empty space where the eighth bird was once mounted. “One for sorrow,” she looked at Loki and grimaced in frustration. “What trouble will that bird fly to? Loki, Amora wants to destroy you.”

Loki swallowed hard and closed his eyes.

“You are not the only one who burns with rage, Loki.” Her fist clenched around the brooch tight enough to draw blood. “I’ve felt its simmering from the moment Balder invaded our house after our wedding. Coal after smoldering coal has been added to that fire ever since. If Amora takes you from me, Loki, I will explode. And I promise you, a good deal else will burn right next to me.”

Loki picked up her hand and pulled it to his face, brushing the back across his own cheek. “Sigyn, I am so very sorry. I allow my obsessions to close out everything else. Never doubt, however, that you are the very bedrock for everything I do—you are my breath, my blood, the spark of seidr that brings them to life.” He brought out the emerald ring Torvald had given him. “Will you wear this once more? A second pledge? I cannot promise that I will not fight her, but I do promise you are my lodestone, and I will always return to you.”

Sigyn put the ring on her finger and grabbed hold of Loki’s hand once more to squeeze it tight, and he pressed the knuckles to his lips. “I am so sorry, my love.” A tear dropped onto her hand and rolled away.

“Oh Loki.” She tried to pull her hand away, but he would not relinquish it, pressing kisses to each joint, turning her hand over to press his lips to her palm and each fingertip, guiding it to cup his face as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch like a cat.

Sigyn set the brooch aside and ran her fingers through his hair, scraping his scalp gently. “I have missed you, dearest,” she whispered. “So much.”

He turned his head to place soft kisses on her wrist, running his other hand up her thigh until the thumb rested at the base of her hip. “It has been,” he agreed, “so very long.” He flicked his tongue over her pulse point, closing his eyes as he opened his mouth to suck gently and savor the taste of her skin. He heard her breath quicken, and he shifted to kneel between her knees.

Sigyn raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to make it up to me? I might allow you to worship me for the evening.”

“Oh you might?”

“I think I deserve a bit of pampering after what you’ve put me—ahh—through.” She gasped as he pushed up her loose sleeve and nipped at the soft flesh inside her elbow.

“I have always enjoyed paying proper homage to your flesh, dearest.” As he stretched up to bury his face in her neck, Sigyn’s gasp at being tickled morphed onto a low moan as he placed soft wet kisses under her ear, across her jaw, then back down her neck to the hollow at its base while his hand moved over her waist then up her ribs just beneath her breast. He felt her heart rate increase and her breath come faster.

“So beautiful.” He crooned into her flesh as he breathed her in, “Have I told you how much I love this waistcoat?” He tugged at the laces and insinuated fingers between the garment in question and the linen shirt beneath. “It hugs your curves in precisely the right way.”

“And what way is that?”

“In precisely every way that scandalizes the social parasites in these halls.” He rubbed his face over said curves for emphasis inhaling deeply as he went. “Intoxicating.”

“Oh . . . ahhh! You always did have a weakness for leather.” The words now coming breathy and low.

“Mmmmm . . . leather, and seidr, and herbs, and you.” He nosed the waistcoat aside to nibble at her breast through the shirt.

Sigyn’s hands moved up his arms over the lean muscle of his shoulders and then anchored themselves in his hair. As his attentions became more intense, her back arched up and her feet hooked behind his legs, the heels of her boots digging into his thighs, dragging herself to the edge of the chair and pulling him closer.

Loki took one more lingering suck before pulling back with a low chuckle. “I think I remember hiding in these rooms with Fandral on occasion.”

“Oh? He always was trouble, wasn’t he?”

“Hmm . . . back then? He was the best sort of trouble. I wonder if the bed is just as comfortable?”

Sigyn flashed a genuine smile at last. “Time to investigate, then?” She sighed.

“Definitely.” Loki picked her up as he stood in a single, fluid movement and headed into the bedroom.

#Fallen Angels #logyn #Sigyn #Loki #AU #fan fiction #Norse mythos #Marvel #mash up

[familia-supraomnia]

The Halls of the Gods, or why children don’t go to Valhalla

The thing with Valhalla, she says, is that it is specifically designed for warriors. ‘Fight all day and feast all night’ isn’t a euphemism, it is literally war and food, in training for Ragnarok. The sentiment of children and abuse victims and the sick being welcome there as fighters, while noble and well-meaning, is erasive both of the culture and the suffering that these people have gone though.

Historical sources attest to many gods having halls, some of them having more than one. It makes sense that each of the gods have their own hall of residence, maybe more, and can welcome whoever would fit there.

I write these in the spirit of the original post- that perhaps, if people don’t have their own clear path to an afterlife, a path finds them, and that path is the one that they need. ---- Many speak of Valhalla, of course, that blessed hall, where Odhinn takes his half of the slain. What they don’t speak of, however, is it’s counterpart, Folkvangr, where Freyja takes her half. If Valhalla will be the sword of Ragnarok, Folkvangr will be the shield, and it is here that the defenders of war train and make ready. Those that stood in the way of those seeking to harm the innocent, who took up arms to hold back aggressors and protect their homes, and died so that their people would be safe. If the soldiers of Valhalla are those that will do whatever it takes to win, whatever logically makes sense, no matter what their feelings say, their counterparts in Folkvangr listen to their instincts, and do what they feel will work within them, in spite of their logic.

But then again, not everyone is made for warrior halls. There are as many gods as there are halls, and of both, there may be as many as stars in the sky, and it would be fair to say that each of those halls is for different deaths and needs of the soul. For instance, Freyja also rules over the hall of Vingolf, the ‘Friendly house’. Here are the warriors who are tired of fighting, not ready to go back to training, and just want to rest. A child coming there, with dark circles under his eyes and bones visible against the surface of his skin. Freyja shows him a room that is all for him, and then crouches down and tells him that unless he willingly consents to someone entering his room, they may not do so, not even her, and that the same can be said of anyone trying to make him enter their room. He doesn’t believe her, so she shows him, and for the first time in a long time, he feels safe. The hall is full of fierce but gentle men and women, who usually have a moment for him, and always have a smile or a nod. They remind him of the uncles and aunts that knew that something was wrong, but didn’t know how to do anything. Later, a newcomer speaks a little too sharply to him, and in a moment, they are surrounded by the aunts and uncles, speaking urgently, but in low voices. Freyja bustles him away, and they spend time making honey candy. He tells her about how he wants to defend people when he’s bigger, like he tried to defend his brothers and sister, and look after those that need him. Freyja smiles, and lets him lick the spoon. The next day, the newcomer apologises wholeheartedly, and promises to leave the boy alone until he is ready to speak to them, and the aunts and uncles promise to make sure that stays true.

Thor also receives children. One day, a little girl comes to him, and without a moment’s hesitation he bundles her up and sets her down by the fire, bringing her a cup of goat’s milk and honey. He reminds her of the brother who couldn’t take her with him when he left, except this time he’s here, and everything is safe now, and no one can ever hurt them again. Thor’s men adore her, and regale her with stories about their chief’s shenanigans, each retelling becoming more and more wild. She laughs herself almost sick, and when she awakens in the morning, Thor’s goats are snuggling up beside her. One night, she calls Thor ‘dad’, and he smiles. Njordr keeps his hall Nóatún, ‘ship cove’, where those of any burden are welcome. When they speak, Njordr listens, and the ocean and the sea-birds listen, and when they are ready, they walk into the sea, which washes away their burdens. Once they feel lighter, they float upwards and swim back to shore. Some must walk into the seas many times, but Njordr is as patient as the ocean that is his to rule. and bears no malice to those that come to his halls for help. At night, those that reside there sleep in the boat houses, inside the ships, or cover themselves in sand near the beacon fires for warmth, listening to the waves carry their life's burdens further away, to eventually be devoured by Jormungandr. There are many places for the sick. Sif’s halls are particularly welcome to those who had cancer and eating disorders. She places no expectations on them, but teaches them to grow things in the earth, and tells them stories of the lonely, frightening time when Loki stole her hair. She gives them all they need to be comfortable- clothes, headscarves, pillows and chairs as they should need- and tells them to be patient with themselves and others. Eventually, they are happy to eat the food they have grown with their own hands, and they grown and construct their own hair again, in all the colours of the rainbow. Only when they ask, and have shown that they are ready, does Sif return the mirrors that she has kept from them for their own sakes. More than beautiful, they have finally found their comfort. Eir takes the sick ones who want to give back to those who are also ill. Her halls of healing are light and welcoming, and do not smell of sickness and death.  She teaches those that come to heal birds and animals, and the folk of Valhalla who get too enthusiastic with each other. In time, her chosen learn how to tend their own sickness and close their own wounds- that which she cannot teach them, and they must learn it for themselves. From their own experiences, they are able to help others, and so the circle of healing widens.

Tyr, however, takes those who do not need healing, those who are ready to work with their minds and their bodies that are not quite the way that others are. He helps them adjust as he can, showing his own wounds, and telling stories of Odhinn’s troubles on the road with one eye. He recites the old rune poems as they work, teaching them the ways that the disabled were honoured of old, and the guests of his halls are renewed, their worth reaffirmed, and ready to face whatever comes next. Loki no longer resides in his hall, but as Sigyn attends him as he writhes below, Angrboda looks after those that seek him. His spirit, however, still comes there to care for those who would change the shapes of the bodies they were trapped in. He teaches them to slough off the scarred, bruised flesh that they remember, that was given cruelly, and was never really theirs at all, and shows them to take whatever form they feel is home. “None will judge you for how you look here,” he says, “So why not reflect what is inside?” He gives them time and space to become comfortable, and says that their shining faces are the only light where his body resides. If they decide to move on to other halls, his monstrous children escort them. If they decide to stay, they are welcome, and may pick whatever den they see fit.

But sometimes, even in these halls, there are occasionally mistakes. Odhinn spies a warrior in his halls who shies from the fighting, and tries to seek a quiet corner every night as the others eat and drink. Odhinn seeks him out, and looks him in the eye. The warrior does not speak, but his eyes scream with pain and distance and memories of his life. Odhinn nods, and says “You do not belong here, soldier.” He takes the man to the Bifrost, where they find dozens of men, looking out over the worlds, and sharing mead in easy silence. Heimdall is among them, and takes the soldier to join the others. There, the god shows him the world through his sight, his wife and children laughing and healing together, his squadmates remembering him, and the world getting better for the work he had done. Heimdall says,  “I have need of defenders and watchers, who will see for me when I must turn my eyes away, or visit my mothers, and who will help me lift the Gjallarhorn on the Last Day. There will be no war here until Ragnarok. Do you think you will be ready to fight by then?” The soldier’s eyes clear, and he nods. “Yes,” he says, the first words he has spoken since he died. “Yes, I will.”

One day, Hela is surprised to receive Frigga as a visitor, who brings a quiet and strange girl with her. She says that even the soft hum of weaving and singing in her halls is too much for the child, and perhaps Helheim would be more suited to her. Hela carefully takes the girl’s hand, and asks what has happened to her. Haltingly, the girl tells her of her life, full of loud, loud sounds, and bright, bright colours, and people touching and pushing and never going away. One day, she started screaming and couldn’t stop, and they put her in a place where she never saw her parents, and the doctors that were supposed to help hurt her instead. And then one day she was here. Hela frowns, and says, “Girl-child, will you be happy here?” The girl smiles, looking at the grey sky and grey buildings, and the people living the echoes of their lives in all but silence, and nods. “You smell nice, like linen and clean bones. I like it here. It is quiet.”

And then, there are those few who will not fit in a hall... Skadhi receives a girl- no, a young woman, who trembles and will not meet her eyes. The goddess checks her over, eyes and hands (gentle, for once) noting the black eyes, the bruised fingerprints at her shoulders and wrists, the thickened bones where they have been broken more than once. After a while, she lifts the woman’s head to meet her eyes, firmly, but without violence, and they regard each other in silence for a long time. It is the woman who finally breaks it. “Am I going to be afraid forever?” she asks, her voice cracking. Skadhi laughs. It is not a pleasant laugh. “Not once we’re done with them, my student. Come. There is much to do.”

For all who come to the halls of my Gods, there is a place, one that they will be safe, and given the tools they need to make themselves anew. Valhalla does not need to reshaped to fit them, or they reshaped to fit Valhalla, when there are Gods who will welcome them as they are, should they come to their doors. --- [Source]

#Beliefs #Borrowed and linked from facebook #Do not remove the source

[hyperesthesias]

Loki x Sigyn

Love Never Dies | Part VII

Rating: G

Words: 2.437

Summary: Loki’s goals are almost complete! But has he been lying to Jane all along?

Notes: i just estimated jane’s age, i couldn’t find a source anywhere. but man i’m so pumped for the next chapter i might start working it right now haha.

Two days of hardly speaking to one another passed by -- Loki did not invite Jane to partake in his invention, and she did not press the matter; figuring the fact that he had no cutting words or implications for her was enough, and that she best stay out of trouble with her head down. She had gotten better at palace etiquette, to which she congratulated herself, and was back-handedly approved by Loki -- but it was a step forward she presumed. At least he approved. When not escorting her about the palace and taking her to where she wished to go, she could hear him exit his room and disappear for some while before returning to silence and solitude. It was rather strange, but the being was already strange -- nonetheless, she admitted to herself, and wisely, only herself, that she found his doings suspicious, if only given his history. And each night he left under the cover of darkness she was sure to mentally record his absence. 

But the third night, at roughly the same hour when she expected him to leave, she was startled by a forceful knock on the conjoining door.

“Jane -- I require your presence,” she could hear Loki demand from the other side of the door, in that certain tone of voice she’d come to learn was the herald of ‘intensely focused’ rather than what she initially assumed: ‘intensely annoyed’.

Surprised, Jane set down her book, having already readied herself for bed -- not expecting to be called upon any further that evening -- and put on her robes as she opened the door an inch or two. “For what?” 

He frowned, peering into the crack, having expected it to open completely. “For you to fulfill your promise and your duty.”

“You’re not going to make me do anything illegal, are you?” she narrowed an eye, still refusing to open the door.

“Such presumption is pliable, legal and illegal are not fixed ideals,” he answered vaguely, half out of curiosity to her response, and half out of honesty.

“Don’t hide behind your moral ambiguity schtick -- is it illegal or not?” she pressed, tightening her grip on the door handle.

He let a large sigh of both irritation and exhaustion: “That which the Allfather does not know will not harm him, or some such phrase of your Midgardian culture,” he waved a hand.

Jane paused, saying some silent prayer that Thor wouldn’t be disappointed in her, or angry with her for aiding his brother, and opened the door to step through it. She came just to Loki’s shoulder, looking up at him, though with the intensity in her eyes, she was certain she was at an equal height. “If this thing turns out to be something other than what you say it is --” she couldn’t finish the threat, pointing at him with no avail of words.

The culmination of his tension and his tiredness broke into a widely amused grin at her stubborn meagerness, and he craned down -- ever so slightly -- to tease her: “Don’t you trust me?” 

“No,” she sternly pouted and slapped her hand back at her side.

“A wise girl, indeed,” he chuckled darkly, and drew in a heavy breath. “Nonetheless, I have not betrayed you for now. The battery is not meant to harm any one, its only motive is to heal the impossible.”

She moved past him, deeper into his suite, and took her place at his desk, all the parts she’d required neatly laid out for her in a fashion similar to that which she had organised everything the other day. “Yeah, ‘for now’ being the operative term. What about you disappearing for hours every night these past few days? What’d got you lurking in the shadows this time?” she huffed, taking a tool in her hand and learning into the magnifier stand to see the device more clearly.

His grin did not fade, but softened in a certain way -- as if he were almost proud. In such the short time they’d been stuck together, she had gained the gall and wherewithal to challenge him. She was quite the creature: a being so beneath those who surrounded her, without promise neither station, absent of place or cultural skills, and yet she’d found courage to take on that which had intimidated her. She reminded him more and more of Sigyn, but he remained quiet about such notions, keeping them tightly wrapped in his heart, where neither light nor breath reached them, and he instead focused his attentions on her query: “Well, such parts needed to be procured somehow, did they not?” he mused, collapsing into the lounge, extending his long legs across the length of it with a hand over his head.

Jane paused, glancing behind her briefly before she said, more to herself: “I don’t want to know -- I don’t want to know any thing.”

“You are halfway there, I’m sure,” he muttered, sardonically.

“Hey! Do you want my help or not?” she spun entirely around, tool still in hand, with a glare in her eye.

He met her stare placidly, then recanted his gaze. “Very well -- do what you must.”

“What’s got you in a mood today?” she turned back to her task, making several adjustments as she spoke.

“This bitter thing has taken all of my energy with it,” he began, “the anticipation of its completion has drained me entirely -- and nothing as such could be worse,” he sighed, dragging his hand down his features.

Yet as she worked, she looked at him from the corner of her eye, a dark thought suddenly entering her mind: “Are you...sick? Is this for you?” she looked down at the device in her hand, hit with the realisation that someone’s life -- whether it be Loki’s or not -- was dependent on her ability to make it work.

“No,” he murmured. “It is not for me, though its use is imperative and does affect me directly -- as I told you my motives are entirely selfish.”

“Well, they can’t be entirely selfish if you’re willing to potentially save someone’s life with it,” she posited -- though for whose sake, she was unsure, she wondered if perhaps she simply wanted to believe him a better person than he was, or if there were some truth to her words of which he would not admit.

“You are young -- you know not the dark motives that can lie within another’s soul,” he sighed attempting to sit up, only to wince at a sharp pain through the middle of his head. He reached for a decanter at an end table of the lounge to pour himself a glass of wine, and with a small sip, hoping it would dull the pain. “Exactly, how old are you?” he chanced to ask, disregarding social politeness for the favour of curiosity.

“Twenty-eight, and by the way, it’s considered rude to ask the age of a lady where I’m from,” she said rather proudly; a prodigy in her own right, she had completed her studies at a far more advanced rate than any of her peers, her skill and intelligence setting her apart from them, which she counted as both blessing and curse. But, none of her peers were being courted by a supposed demi-god, so she liked to think she had the upper hand.

He very audibly choked on his wine, only proving to cascade his headache into his shoulders. “Twenty-eight! You are a child! My son was no older than you!”

She only pursed her lips and shot him a look. “I’m an adult on Earth. But you guys live longer, so...it makes sense that physical maturity would be delayed, as compared to us. Or that we age faster -- however you want to look at it. Your son, from the painting I saw of him, he looked like he would have been nine in our years,” she thought aloud. “So, what, you guys age like three times slower or something? Or is it exponential? I’d have to do the math, but...” she trailed off, realising her rambling, and took in a breath as she refocused her attentions.

“Twenty-eight,” Loki muttered incredulously, taking another sip, having ruined the last. Twenty five years he’d had with his son, twenty five years out of thousands -- and yet he remembered every day, or so it seemed. He remembered the happiness, the joy of holding him in his arms the hour he was born -- he remembered the quiet tears of joy in seeing his son born a lighter hue of blue; having been alone his entire life, having no other like himself he finally had a kin who mirrored himself. He remembered teaching him the likeness of a Prince, he remembered guarding him as well as his mother, and the looks of those who were uncertain of their kind. He never forgot. But, despite their faults, those on Nashtar were always kind to his son, and to him. He remembered on the hottest of days his son coming to him and embracing him for no other reason than to siphon some of his own coldness -- the ice thief, he would call him, and would indulge him nonetheless. He remembered being boiling himself, yet wrapping his arms around the little one, rubbing his back with his bare, blue hands to keep him as cold as he needed. And when the fever came upon him, he remembered lying next to him for days and nights, willingly in his cerulean form, if only for the sake of his son, to keep his fever down. Yet when the fever took him, he felt he had none to blame but himself. Sigyn had tried to assure him it was not his fault, the healers tried to reason with him it was not his fault, but with the death of his first son, and then the death of his second -- it became clear to him all that which he could borne was Death. 

And the pain in his heart outweighed the pain in his head for some hours as Jane worked there quietly, and every so often he would look on her -- both envying the newness of her life, that she had not been privy to such pains yet; and pitying her that she would, eventually. He had not the gift of foresight, only a vastness of experience, and he hoped her fate would not mirror his own, and especially not Sigyn’s.

“There, done,” she sighed at last, wiping her greased fingers on a cloth provided on the desk, before turning to her companion: “It’s ready. All it needs is the energy source, and you’ve got yourself a working battery.”

Loki’s stillness, his quietness disturbed her -- for it bore with it a certain dimness about him that worried her. “Thank you, Jane,” he whispered at last, and stood smoothing out the leather of his clothes, for, unlike her, he was not ready to fall into slumber just yet.

“You’re welcome,” she hadn’t expected such sincerity from him -- and she stood, waiting for some sarcastic tone or some biting remark, but there was nothing. “Well, that’s it. So...good night,” she said unsure, raising a hand as walked backwards to the conjoining door.

“Yes, of course, good night,” he was woken from his thoughts as the door opened. “And Jane, if the thing should work, you shall receive your payment after its tests are successful.”

The word ‘tests’ set her on edge -- and she felt she could hold her breath at the fact that she was trusting him with what she’d helped make, but as she did, she grew light headed. “Right -- only fair,” she agreed. “Good night, Loki. And...good luck with it,” she answered honestly.

He, himself, had not expected such a reply, and paused with a gradual nod. “Of course,” with that, he bid her good night, and the door between them was closed and locked. But his work was not done -- it had only just begun. 

Loki looked to the device sitting innocently on his desk, and yet with it, and its implication, it had the potential to either steel him or destroy him; his fate lay in its workings, his fate lay within the faith he had in the Midgardian -- and it was all he had. A thick swallow, he approached it, intimidated, never by its appearance, but by its invisible hands which held his soul. He did not like things that controlled him, he did not ever want to be tethered or leashed or fated -- he had made certain of that long ago. No, he wished to be free and at any and all cost. Yet the siphon which he held in his hands had the ability to grant him either his freedom of heart or the doom which he so feared. And he did not fear much.

Cloaking himself in a veil of shadow and magic, he silently stole out of his suite and vanished down the halls, knowing every secret path the palace had to offer, before he came upon a most wretched place: his destination. He had been planning this for months -- and it was not the first time he had planned invasions or stealthy excursions, but this one in particular seemed to rile a lump of breath in his throat and a flush through his cheeks, as his heart beat harder and his blood grew colder.

There was four seconds between the changing of the guard, all he had to do was delay them for two minutes, should his calculations be correct -- and he had left no room for error. He arrived in the four second window, that they could not sense his presence -- even if he were cloaked -- and when the new pair arrived, he quickly placed a spell over them both: stilling them into stasis, where they could not see nor hear anything around them, and when they woke they would feel as though no time had passed; for time, for them, had entirely stopped. 

Then, with the siphon pressed taut against him, he moved past them, evading all sight and sound, until he arrived inside the Weapons Vault. His own breath caught within him, he knew precisely where to find his goal, and hurried towards it, wasting not a second. There, a familiar blue light emanated from the corner of the room, and a grin passed over him as he attached the siphon battery to the Tesseract.

#logyn #loki x sigyn #sigyn x loki #ship: logyn #* #fic: love never dies

[trans-anarchy01-blog]

A FB trans friend posted this earlier this year i have no idea of the actual source but the part with Loki's hall made me cry a bit:

The Halls of the Gods

Many speak of Valhalla, of course, that blessed hall, where Odhinn takes his half of the slain. What they don’t speak of, however, is it’s counterpart, Folkvangr, where Freyja takes her half. If Valhalla will be the sword of Ragnarok, Folkvangr will be the shield, and it is here that the defenders of war train and make ready. Those that stood in the way of those seeking to harm the innocent, who took up arms to hold back aggressors and protect their homes, and died so that their people would be safe. If the soldiers of Valhalla are those that will do whatever it takes to win, whatever logically makes sense, no matter what their feelings say, their counterparts in Folkvangr listen to their instincts, and do what they feel will work within them, in spite of their logic.

But then again, not everyone is made for warrior halls. There are as many gods as there are halls, and of both, there may be as many as stars in the sky, and it would be fair to say that each of those halls is for different deaths and needs of the soul.

For instance, Freyja also rules over the hall of Vingolf, the ‘Friendly house’. Here are the warriors who are tired of fighting, not ready to go back to training, and just want to rest. A child coming there, with dark circles under his eyes and bones visible against the surface of his skin. Freyja shows him a room that is all for him, and then crouches down and tells him that unless he willingly consents to someone entering his room, they may not do so, not even her, and that the same can be said of anyone trying to make him enter their room. He doesn’t believe her, so she shows him, and for the first time in a long time, he feels safe. The hall is full of fierce but gentle men and women, who usually have a moment for him, and always have a smile or a nod. They remind him of the uncles and aunts that knew that something was wrong, but didn’t know how to do anything. Later, a newcomer speaks a little too sharply to him, and in a moment, they are surrounded by the aunts and uncles, speaking urgently, but in low voices. Freyja bustles him away, and they spend time making honey candy. He tells her about how he wants to defend people when he’s bigger, like he tried to defend his brothers and sister, and look after those that need him. Freyja smiles, and lets him lick the spoon. The next day, the newcomer apologises wholeheartedly, and promises to leave the boy alone until he is ready to speak to them, and the aunts and uncles promise to make sure that stays true.

Thor also receives children. One day, a little girl comes to him, and without a moment’s hesitation he bundles her up and sets her down by the fire, bringing her a cup of goat’s milk and honey. He reminds her of the brother who couldn’t take her with him when he left, except this time he’s here, and everything is safe now, and no one can ever hurt them again.

Thor’s men adore her, and regale her with stories about their chief’s shenanigans, each retelling becoming more and more wild. She laughs herself almost sick, and when she awakens in the morning, Thor’s goats are snuggling up beside her. One night, she calls Thor ‘dad’, and he smiles.

Njordr keeps his hall Nóatún, ‘ship cove’, where those of any burden are welcome. When they speak, Njordr listens, and the ocean and the sea-birds listen, and when they are ready, they walk into the sea, which washes away their burdens. Once they feel lighter, they float upwards and swim back to shore. Some must walk into the seas many times, but Njordr is as patient as the ocean that is his to rule. and bears no malice to those that come to his halls for help. At night, those that reside there sleep in the boat houses, inside the ships, or cover themselves in sand near the beacon fires for warmth, listening to the waves carry their life's burdens further away, to eventually be devoured by Jormungandr.

There are many places for the sick. Sif’s halls are particularly welcome to those who had cancer and eating disorders. She places no expectations on them, but teaches them to grow things in the earth, and tells them stories of the lonely, frightening time when Loki stole her hair. She gives them all they need to be comfortable- clothes, headscarves, pillows and chairs as they should need- and tells them to be patient with themselves and others. Eventually, they are happy to eat the food they have grown with their own hands, and they grown and construct their own hair again, in all the colours of the rainbow. Only when they ask, and have shown that they are ready, does Sif return the mirrors that she has kept from them for their own sakes. More than beautiful, they have finally found their comfort.

Eir takes the sick ones who want to give back to those who are also ill. Her halls of healing are light and welcoming, and do not smell of sickness and death. She teaches those that come to heal birds and animals, and the folk of Valhalla who get too enthusiastic with each other. In time, her chosen learn how to tend their own sickness and close their own wounds- that which she cannot teach them, and they must learn it for themselves. From their own experiences, they are able to help others, and so the circle of healing widens.

Tyr, however, takes those who do not need healing, those who are ready to work with their minds and their bodies that are not quite the way that others are. He helps them adjust as he can, showing his own wounds, and telling stories of Odhinn’s troubles on the road with one eye. He recites the old rune poems as they work, teaching them the ways that the disabled were honoured of old, and the guests of his halls are renewed, their worth reaffirmed, and ready to face whatever comes next.

Loki no longer resides in his hall, but as Sigyn attends him as he writhes below, Angrboda looks after those that seek him. His spirit, however, still comes there to care for those who would change the shapes of the bodies they were trapped in. He teaches them to slough off the scarred, bruised flesh that they remember, that was given cruelly, and was never really theirs at all, and shows them to take whatever form they feel is home. “None will judge you for how you look here,” he says, “So why not reflect what is inside?” He gives them time and space to become comfortable, and says that their shining faces are the only light where his body resides. If they decide to move on to other halls, his monstrous children escort them. If they decide to stay, they are welcome, and may pick whatever den they see fit.

But sometimes, even in these halls, there are occasionally mistakes. Odhinn spies a warrior in his halls who shies from the fighting, and tries to seek a quiet corner every night as the others eat and drink. Odhinn seeks him out, and looks him in the eye. The warrior does not speak, but his eyes scream with pain and distance and memories of his life. Odhinn nods, and says “You do not belong here, soldier.” He takes the man to the Bifrost, where they find dozens of men, looking out over the worlds, and sharing mead in easy silence. Heimdall is among them, and takes the soldier to join the others. There, the god shows him the world through his sight, his wife and children laughing and healing together, his squadmates remembering him, and the world getting better for the work he had done. Heimdall says, “I have need of defenders and watchers, who will see for me when I must turn my eyes away, or visit my mothers, and who will help me lift the Gjallarhorn on the Last Day. There will be no war here until Ragnarok. Do you think you will be ready to fight by then?” The soldier’s eyes clear, and he nods. “Yes,” he says, the first words he has spoken since he died. “Yes, I will.”

One day, Hela is surprised to receive Frigga as a visitor, who brings a quiet and strange girl with her. She says that even the soft hum of weaving and singing in her halls is too much for the child, and perhaps Helheim would be more suited to her. Hela carefully takes the girl’s hand, and asks what has happened to her. Haltingly, the girl tells her of her life, full of loud, loud sounds, and bright, bright colours, and people touching and pushing and never going away. One day, she started screaming and couldn’t stop, and they put her in a place where she never saw her parents, and the doctors that were supposed to help hurt her instead. And then one day she was here. Hela frowns, and says, “Girl-child, will you be happy here?” The girl smiles, looking at the grey sky and grey buildings, and the people living the echoes of their lives in all but silence, and nods. “You smell nice, like linen and clean bones. I like it here. It is quiet.”

And then, there are those few who will not fit in a hall...

Skadhi receives a girl- no, a young woman, who trembles and will not meet her eyes. The goddess checks her over, eyes and hands (gentle, for once) noting the black eyes, the bruised fingerprints at her shoulders and wrists, the thickened bones where they have been broken more than once. After a while, she lifts the woman’s head to meet her eyes, firmly, but without violence, and they regard each other in silence for a long time. It is the woman who finally breaks it. “Am I going to be afraid forever?” she asks, her voice cracking. Skadhi laughs. It is not a pleasant laugh. “Not once we’re done with them, my student. Come. There is much to do.”

For all who come to the halls of my Gods, there is a place, one that they will be safe, and given the tools they need to make themselves anew. Valhalla does not need to reshaped to fit them, or they reshaped to fit Valhalla, when there are Gods who will welcome them as they are, should they come to their doors

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Of Blood and Roses

Chapter Seven

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Loki x Lauren  |  Word Count: 10828 Warnings: Fluff, angst, violence

As Loki led her down the stairs and around the giant spit, Lauren had the feeling her face was going to be perpetually flushed for some time to come with the way the men all smiled and nodded, their appreciation clear and highly disconcerting. The women were slightly cooler, their smiles more calculating than friendly, at least for the moment.

She hoped that would change with time. She couldn’t imagine spending all her days alone when Loki was busy if none of these women liked her. Though, as they approached the head table, it appeared she had one ally for Sif’s smile was wide and welcoming.

When Loki led her around the end of the table past men and women she didn’t yet know, Odin stood to welcome her. His whiskers tickled her cheek when he whispered, “Well done, child,” causing her blush to burn all the brighter. As she moved on to Thor, Odin embraced Loki, sending the guests into an unholy frenzy, a cacophony of noise which was deafening.

Thor took her by the hand and raised her knuckles to his lips, giving her a wink far more reminiscent of his brother than the God of Thunder and made her laugh.

He tugged her close and murmured against her ear, “You are radiant like the sun, little sister.”

“If y’all make me blush any harder I’ll be hot as one, too,” she said but smiled for she knew he meant it honestly.

Loki took her by the elbow and clasped arms with Thor. “It’s good to be home.”

“It’s good to have my brother back,” Thor agreed. “Sit at my right, Loki. At my side where you belong.”

A tilt of his head was Loki’s acceptance, but he stepped past Thor to see Lauren seated first two chairs over next to Sif who was already holding out a cup of… something.

“What is it?” Lauren asked her, admiring how even in a gown Sif still retained the armour which proclaimed her a great warrior.

“Mead. The finest casks have been brought out for this meal,” she said quietly. “Welcome to the feast, highness.”

The highness was said with a smirk and air of teasing which set Lauren laughing and nudging her new friend. “Cut it out,” she huffed sipping from the cup.

“Bah!” Volstagg barked. “Drink, woman! We feast for you. Eat. Enjoy! Drink!” He raised his cup, sloshing the liquid over the table and sending both Fandral and Hogun lurching out of the way.

“And have her end up as big around as you, Volstagg?” Loki quipped. “I think not.”

Lauren coughed a delicate, “Body snob!” into her cup as the rest laughed at Loki’s teasing.

He leaned closer to steal the cup from her fingers and drink from it himself. “Don’t tease, darling. You’re perfect. Can you blame me for wanting to keep you that way?”

“Are you sayin’ if I eat more I’ll have to work out more?” she asked, plucking a bunch of grapes from a platter as no one else had even paused in their feasting for more than the few minutes it had taken to see them seated.

He snorted softly in amusement and began to load her plate from the sea of dishes on the table. “If it is more exercise you want, pet, I’ll be happy to assist you in shedding those calories.”

His smile was so deviant, Lauren snorted out a laugh. “You’re terrible!”

“You love it,” he grinned and fed the kitten a piece of meat when his head popped up out of her lap.

“You’ll spoil him,” she scolded but traced a finger over Socks’ little furry head.

Loki shrugged. “What else is he to eat?”

“Cat food? Mice?”

“As if we would have mice in the palace,” Loki scoffed. “Try the boar, sweet. It is a special delicacy and quite unlike anything you’ve ever tasted.”

Unlike Volstagg, who seemed content to eat and drink with both hands, the others used proper utensils, though as she looked around, Lauren found many of the men still ate large hanks of meat with their hands. Not one to shy away from a meal, she dug in and damn near moaned at the flavour exploding on her tongue.

“Oh, my god…” she mumbled, swallowing the mouthful, and tried something which appeared the combination of mashed potatoes and corn mixed together in one. “Sweet thorny Jesus. How are y’all not three hundred pounds?”

The three warriors and Sif all chuckled, Loki smirked and began to eat like she’d never seen him do so before. There was no slow picking of his way through the meal. She was reasonably sure he inhaled, and the entire plate was clear. Even the meals she’d made for him in the past few days had not invoked the vigorous downing she was currently witnessing.

Picking up the cup he’d stolen, Lauren drank deeply of the mead and grinned when he caught her watching.

“What is that look for, my love?” he asked, sitting back to feed the kitten more of the succulent boar.

Socks deserted her to crawl into Loki’s lap and gnaw on the piece of meat. “I guess I’ll have to learn a few of these recipes before we go home. I’ve never seen you put food away like that before,” she teased and raised the cup to her lips.

Thor had shared the mead once when he’d visited Earth, but he’d barely allowed her a taste before deeming it too potent for a human. It appeared that was no longer the case as no one commented when she drained the sweet, honey made liquid down her throat with a content hum.

When she lowered the cup, Loki caught her chin and drew her closer, stealing a kiss she knew would be laced with mead. He purred with the taste and flicked his tongue over her lips before pulling away. “Like ambrosia, my heart.”

“Flirt,” she teased.

“Only with you, darling,” Loki chuckled.

Before she could say any more, Thor was getting to his feet and raising his hands, calling for the noise to end. “Now that my brother and his lovely Ástvinur have joined us, I would raise my cup in a toast to them. To the man who so many thought lost to us, and to the woman who has more love, more compassion, more faith in her than any person I have ever met. To Loki, the God of Mischief, my brother and a protector of this realm, and to Lauren, his lady wife and the woman who finished the fastest, strongest binding in Asgardian history. Their good fortune blesses us all! Skål!”

“Skål!” seemed to echo through the hall as everyone raised a glass in tribute.

Warmth bloomed in her face, but Lauren only looked at Loki who was smiling at her and leaned forward to kiss her sweetly.

When Thor sat, Odin stood and turned toward the two of them. “I know had my wife Frigga lived to see this day, she would have been so very proud of you, Loki. Have you made mistakes along the way? Yes, but those mistakes led you to your salvation. Learn from them. Grow from them. Cherish them to an extent, for they made you worthy of the woman who sits like a sun goddess at your side. Trust in her judgment. We already know she is a fierce one,” he chuckled and so did a good majority of the hall. “But I think she is also quite smart. Listen to her, trust her as I did your mother. May the Norns bless and keep you both. Skål!”

“Skål!”

Lauren leaned toward Loki when the cheering grew raucous. “They don’t expect me to stand up and say somethin’ right?”

“No, they expect me to,” he sighed, but rose to his feet, placed the kitten down in her lap, and lifted his cup. Once silence reigned, he began to speak.

“Brother. Father.” He nodded to them. “Words of wisdom and high praise from you both. I too have little doubt Mother would be pleased, but her pleasure would not be at my hands. It would be at yours.” He turned to face Lauren who gasped softly in surprise. “Frigga was… the best of us. Kind, caring, fierce, and so terribly brave. I see all the same qualities in you, my heart. She would have loved you on sight. She would have cherished you. Your compassionate heart would have blessed her. I have had many regrets in my long life, but none are as big as your never getting to meet her.”

“Oh, Loki,” she sighed, reaching up to hold his hand.

“You have become a beacon of hope for me, my love. You are my heart, my very soul. Without you I am nothing. So as I stand before these witnesses, I announce wholly and without hesitation that Lauren Odinson is the only one for me. There shall be no other before her or after her. My heart is no longer my own but well and truly… hers.”

It was the most romantic thing she’d ever heard and got to her feet, forgetting about the kitten until he jumped to the table, to take Loki’s face between her palms with tears of joy dripping from her cheeks. “You’re my only too, peaches,” she whispered, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. “I love you so much.”

“To Lauren! Skål!” Loki cried, but instead of downing his cup, he set it on the table, swept her into his arms, and kissed her, bending her back over his arm as he did.

The hall exploded in cheering.

When he finally let her up, Lauren was laughing and breathless. Her hands were tangled in his hair. His gently stroked her spine. It was as if the throng had disappeared for all she could see was the blue-green of his eyes, and all she could hear was the panting of his breath and the beat of his heart.

“Loki,” she sighed happily.

“My love,” he purred and tenderly touched her cheek. He kissed her again, a swift brush across her lips before he encouraged her to sit, the noise petering out as people returned to their meals.

When Loki turned away to answer a question from Thor, Sif leaned closer, Socks in her lap where he was purring at having his ears fondled. “That should put any doubts to rest,” she chuckled softly.

“Doubts?” Lauren frowned.

Sif paled slightly. “I… oh, my fool mouth. I shouldn't have said anything.”

“Sif? What doubts?” Lauren asked.

She sighed but leaned even closer and lowered her voice. “There has been… speculation. Three days to finish a binding is unheard of. Some are saying it is… fake. Simply another of Loki’s tricks.”

Lauren’s hands closed into fists in her lap. “Rumors started by a redheaded harlot?” she hissed.

Sif’s brow arched in surprised amusement. “So, you have met Sigyn?”

“Barely left y’all this mornin’ and she was appearin’ out of the shadows like some phantom wraith to latch her hooks into my husband. Thor told Loki what she did. I may need those lessons sooner than later as I'm gonna slap that bitch upside her pretty face she comes after what's mine.” She reached for the cup which had been refilled by a passing servant and drank deeply of the mead.

Sif looked shocked for a moment before a smile curled her lips. “I cannot say for certain where the rumour began, but if I were to guess I would assume the same as you. Pray tell, what lessons do you speak of?”

“Loki's gonna teach me to fight. Nat tried,” Lauren shrugged, “but Loki thinks I need to learn from someone less… rigid. As I'm pretty sure y’all were born with a weapon in your hand, sucker punchin’ that ho would likely go badly for me if I can protect myself.” She’d never been the violent sort, but Loki was hers and Lauren would take exception to anyone disparaging their relationship.

A bark of laughter escaped Sif’s lips drawing the attention of everyone at the table.

“What is so amusing, Lady Sif?” asked Thor.

Lauren blanched, but Sif clasped her hand and gave her a wink. “I'm afraid that is between your sister and me.”

“Secrets between the women already? Loki you'd best run for the hills,” Thor chuckled.

“Perhaps we spoke about you, Thor?” Lauren quipped. “Women can have secrets about many things after all.” She grinned wickedly and popped a grape in her mouth, finding the flush on Sif’s cheeks interesting.

“Me?” Thor’s face fell. “What did I do?”

She threw her amused husband a smile worthy of his name before turning it on Thor. “Wouldn't you like to know?”

“Yes, I very much would!” he squeaked.

Lauren laughed loud and long, her blood warm. She felt full of life, happy and joyous, her pique of earlier gone with the rush of the mead through her veins. She didn't notice the way the hall fell to silence with her amusement, or how all their eyes turned to stare. She didn't see the wide grin Thor exchanged with Odin, or the glare Loki gave Fandral when the man sighed adoringly. She merely laughed, happy and relaxed, ending on a smile and a content sigh as she wiped tears from her eyes.

“Y’all are too easy, Thor,” she giggled.

“So cruel to make fun of your king, little sister,” he scolded.

She would have said more but the fur covered snouts appearing from beneath the table on either side of her caused Lauren to jolt in surprise and bang her knee into the wood with enough force to rattle the cups.

“Oh, my goodness. Y’all just gave me such a fright!” she gasped, placing a hand on her heart to hopefully keep it from beating right out of her chest.

Two pairs of yellow gold eyes looked contrite before they began to pull back into the shadows.

“Oh, no! You don't have to go. I just didn't expect visitors to pop out like that.” She pushed her chair back a little, making room for them and had two huge wolfy heads appear to rest on either knee. “My stars. Well, aren't you big… boys?” she asked, looking at Loki who appeared equal parts amused and concerned.

“Yes… boys. Geri and Freki. They are father’s wolves.”

“I didn't even see them down there,” Lauren said, glancing at Sif who sat very stiffly beside her, holding a wicked looking dagger.

Geri nudged her hand and Lauren ran it over his head to scratch him behind his ear. Freki licked her fingers, and Lauren rubbed his muzzle while frowning at Sif. “What's the matter?”

Sif looked from Lauren's hands to Loki and slowly relaxed the death grip she had on the dagger. “It appears… nothing.”

“Really? Cause you looked ‘bout ready to stab someone,” Lauren frowned.

“Tis nothing, love. Sif is overly cautious. Odin’s pets are not known for their… friendliness is all,” Loki said, going back for seconds of the meal he’d inhaled.

Lauren looked down at the pure black head and the shaggier brindled grey. “No? Are you two nippers?”

Geri very gently closed his teeth around her hand while Freki shook his head and made his ears flap.

“Ah, so y’all are more the bitin’ kind?”

Two sets of ears drooped and Geri licked her palm.

Lauren gave each a gentle ear tug. “I'm sure whoever you bit were all bad and deserved it.”

Both sets of ears perked up and Freki let his tongue loll out like a happy smiling dog.

It made Lauren chuckle. “Good boys,” she said.

Before she knew it, a quiet rustle like silk on the wind heralded the arrival of Hugin and Muninn. One alighted on the back of her chair while the other landed across the table where he cast her a curious glance and plucked up a piece of meat from the platter which was bigger than his head.

“Greedy bird,” she chuckled when it took him two tries to swallow all of it. The wolf beneath her hand whined, licking his chops when she glanced at him.

Lauren looked at Loki for direction. “Can I?”

“Father,” Loki murmured, shifting his chair back as he drew the attention of the other half of the table.

Lauren peered down the line at all the faces. Thor appeared momentarily surprised before chuckling softly. Odin’s eye widened in apparent shock, but it was the four men and two women who gasped and cried out, some beginning to whisper to each other behind their hands that set her frowning, wondering what was really going on.

“Loki?” Odin murmured, slowly pushing his chair back as he eyed the two wolves begging at Lauren's knee.

Both shrank a little into her lap and set Lauren cooing softly in comfort. “They're alright. Just jealous of the greedy raven and beggin’ for a treat. I wasn't sure if that was allowed or…”

Silence. Complete and utter silence had filled the hall as every eye turned her way.

“What did I do?” she whispered nervously to Loki.

“Nothing but be yourself, my heart. You are a wonder,” he whispered back and reached for the large carcass before Thor which very much looked like a turkey. He wrenched both legs off and placed them on her plate. “Father feeds them from the table all the time, my love. Certainly, it will do them no harm if you give each an offering of your own.”

Still, Lauren darted a glance at Odin and waited for the older man to nod his agreement before she reached for one of the legs on the table.

The wolves perked up immediately, so excited they smacked their heads on the table and flinched.

“Easy. Y’all act like you haven't eaten in a week,” Lauren snickered and gave the first leg to Geri. When Freki made to snap at it, she grabbed him firmly by the muzzle. “No!” He whined at her stern reprimand. “If you'd waited for half a second more you'd see there was one all your own, greedy puppy.”

She ignored Loki’s snort of laughter and gave Freki his leg. They offered little yips she equated to thank yous and disappeared beneath the table again.

Loki held out a damp cloth for her hands. “You have made friends for life feeding those two.”

“Why is everyone starin’?” she asked, feeling a bug beneath the magnifying glass of everyone's perusal.

“They are simply amazed by you, my love,” he said, disappearing the cloth when she finished wiping off wolf slobber and grease. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm, eyes amused and full of mischief. “You astound them, Lauren.”

“Because I fed a few turkey legs to a couple of big sucks?”

Loki burst out laughing. “Something like that!”

“I feel like y’all are makin’ fun of me, and I don't know why, Loki!” she snapped tugging her hand away to close it into a fist in her lap.

The raven on her chair hopped down to the arm and hissed at Loki. “Mean! Make sad.”

He shooed the bird away, cursing when Muninn gave a hard peck to Loki's hand in the process before lightly cupping Lauren’s chin and turning her face back to his. “I would never make fun of you, my Lauren. We stare because Odin’s pets like you. It is unheard of to have them come to another with such ease. They are drawn to you in a way we have never seen before. I do not laugh at you, elskan min but at everyone else.”

“Oh…” she whispered, seeing the honesty in his eyes. “Critters have always liked me,” she shrugged, fighting off a blush. “Maybe… maybe I really am odd.”

“Special, my heart. You are special and unique, not odd,” he assured her, but it did little to assuage the concern in Lauren's heart.

“Even here I'm a misfit,” she whispered.

“Stop. You are no such thing,” Loki hissed, aggravated with her.

Lauren looked away. “It appears I am. You can't deny what your eyes tell you, Loki.”

He hummed, and it was an angry sound which made her flinch. “I refuse to let you say such things about yourself. You are special!” he snapped, forcing her chin around and up to see his blazing eyes. “Do you think any of them think you odd? They do not! They look at you and see only a woman, an Ástvinur coming into her own. There is magic in you, and none of us quite know how it will manifest, so we wait, and we watch, and we live in awe of what and who you are becoming. You are not a misfit! You fit quite perfectly into this family and that, beloved, is why the people stare. You are remarkable! So remarkable the leviathans rose from the deep to see you. Never in all my years have I born witness to the creatures of the sea in such a manner. They rose for you, Lauren!”

She stared at him stunned. “What?”

“You keep assuming the creatures of this world are like yours, but they are not. If we react in surprise it is because you surprise us at every turn, darling,” he murmured, losing some of the forcefulness of his words.

As if to prove his point, Socks sat staring at her from his place on the table between the two ravens, his eyes far too intelligent for a simple kitten. “I… don't understand what's happenin’,” she whispered.

“Neither do we, yet,” Loki clarified when she stiffened. “But something is happening to the land of Asgard. Something unprecedented and you, my heart, are at its center.”

Lauren sighed and rested her cheek against his palm. “I haven't even been here a day.”

“Time matters little when it comes to the workings of magic and the Norns,” Sif said softly.

Lauren blushed, suddenly aware of the ears who'd likely overheard her worries.

“Do not fear. I only heard a little. You are far stronger, far braver than you know,” the lady warrior squeezed her hand. “I could not have calmly accepted a wolf in my lap as you did.”

“Not like I knew any better,” Lauren grumbled. “I guess I need to stop assumin’ y’alls pets are domesticated.”

“Do not change a thing, Lauren,” Thor said, leaning past Loki. “You are exactly what Asgard needs, or you would not be here.”

“Everythin’ is so… confusin’,“ Lauren sighed.

Sif pushed back from the table, causing all the men to scramble to stand with her. “Up.” She didn't let Lauren deny her, just tugged on her hand. “We’re taking a walk. One without male company.”

“Sif,” Loki growled.

She ignored him and pulled Lauren to her feet. “Don't make me pin you to that chair, Loki. Your Ástvinur is perfectly safe with me, as you well know. We will be back soon enough.”

Lauren cast a final glance at Loki who looked incredibly annoyed. “Sif… what are you doin’?”

The armour-clad maiden said nothing as she dragged her from the hall, heading away from the feast at a clip Lauren had to jog to keep up with, not an easy feat in her fashionable dress. She took a hard left, down a corridor much more in keeping with Lauren’s preconceived notion of what a “spaceship” should look like, slapped her hand to a metal plate, and yanked Lauren through the door into a room surrounded in windows.

Lauren gasped and pulled away from Sif to rush forward and press her hands to the glass. “How beautiful!”

“One never gets used to seeing it from this angle,” Sif agreed, staring down at the view of Asgard from above. “But that was not why I brought you here.”

“Why did you?” Lauren asked, unable to drag her attention from the view.

“Because. You dishonour yourself with your concerns.”

Lauren stiffened. “Beg pardon?”

Sif sighed and sank down to sit, more like sprawl, on a low stool. “I have spent more time on Midgard than many of the others. I understand the worth human's place on knowing how they fit into their world. Asgardians, we have no such fear. The Norns reveal our path when it is meant to be revealed. Not before, not after. Only in its time. You fret over what becomes of you, how you are changing to fit in our world. You must not.”

“That's easier said than done, Sif,” Lauren sighed. “My entire… existence changed in four days. I went from nobody to somebody who everyone thinks is pretty damn important so fast my head still hasn't stopped spinnin’.”

She barked a surprised laugh. “You believe you were a nobody?”

Lauren gave a shrug. “It’s the truth. I was just a secretary. Before that… I was a trophy wife waitin’ to happen.”

“I do not understand this saying,” Sif said with a frown.

“A trophy wife is someone whose only purpose is to look good on a man’s arm. She’s pretty but usually has very little brain. My family is… well off. Where I come from it isn’t uncommon to be expected to marry into another well-to-do family. I was introduced to a man when I was a teenager. It was arranged between our families that we’d marry, but he decided he’d rather have his mistress and ran off with her on our weddin’ day.”

“Did your father ride him down and maim him?” Sif asked.

“Uh… no.” Lauren wrapped her arms around herself. “It… didn’t work like that.”

Sif gave a snort of dismay. “Such villainy would not stand here.”

“It’s fine, really. Was how I ended up in New York and got in with Tony Stark. If George hadn’t walked out, I’d a never met Loki. And I wouldn’t be here wonderin’ how the hell I ended up the princess in a fairy tale,” Lauren sighed.

“Yet you are here, and you certainly are not nobody.”

“Not anymore it seems.” Lauren returned her hand to the glass, the view too perfect to deny.

“Not even on Midgard.” Sif rose to walk closer and cover Lauren’s hand with her own. “I have no words to speak in regards to your upbringing though it sounds… odd and unnatural to me, but then I am not one to speak on odd and unnatural. After all, I stand an equal in battle to most of the men. An unheard of feat for a woman and one I fought long and hard to achieve. It has placed me in a… position I never imagined.” She trailed off and shook her head. “But I digress. When I went to Midgard with Thor, the time we met, everywhere I went, everyone I spoke to, spoke of bits of Lauren wisdom or had questions they needed your input on. All spoke of you with this quiet certainty. As if they knew you held them together, the stone upon which the Avengers rested. You are integral to them.”

Bright pink, Lauren flushed at the praise. “I was just… doin’ my job and bein’ a good friend.”

“Someone who has the ear and shoulder of people such as my King, Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, and Miss Romanoff is not a nobody, no matter what she thinks.”

Lauren breathed out a shaky breath and fought back tears. “Thank you, Sif. Loki says such things all the time, but he loves me so much. Sometimes I can’t tell if he’s right or just biased.”

Sif drew her away from the windows to sit on a pair of low stools. “He is biased, but he is also right.” She frowned for a moment, her dark eyes watchful, before she asked, “How much do you know about being Ástvinur? About what takes place after a binding?”

“Not a lot, I guess.” Lauren shrugged. “I sometimes feel like I’m swimmin’ through sludge with all these… changes. First, there was the truth thing, and then the magic stuff. Now Loki’s goin’ on about the creatures of Asgard and how the whales never rise from the deep, and I’m… I’m so lost.” She heaved a heavy sigh and rested her head in her hands.

“Truth thing?” Sif gasped. “You’re a truth speaker? For the God of Mischief and Lies?” She burst out laughing. “I bet he finds that immensely amusing!”

“He does,” Lauren snickered.

“But what is this magic and… whales?” Sif asked.

“I’ve got some spark of magic. Loki did a test, and there it was, plain as the nose on your face, a little purple flame dancin’ in his green one.”

“The seiðr test? You passed the seiðr test?”

Lauren smirked at her. “Y’all are repeatin’ yourself somethin’ fierce.”

“I am just… stunned.” Her wide eyes and open mouth said as much. “You’re Midgardian. It shouldn’t be possible.”

She shrugged, not having an explanation either. “My gran apparently has a spark, too. She tells fortunes. Course we always thought she was a bit… touched, but turns out she really can read the cards.”

Sif nodded thoughtfully. “And what… whales do you speak of?”

“Loki called them leviathans. Three of them and a whole bunch of skjønn swam alongside the ship once we left the harbour.”

There was much blinking before Sif finally managed at quiet, “What?”

“Thor was there. I just thought they were pretty. We have dolphins and Orcas similar to them at home. Ours definitely don’t trail rainbows behind them when they leap into the air though, sadly. Plus the ravens like me,” Lauren giggled.

Sif swallowed, and the sound was an audible gulp. “I can see why Loki was so calm about Geri and Freki.”

Lauren fidgeted with her fingers before working up her courage to ask, “Am I odd? Is this… exceedingly weird? Ma’am always said I would never amount to anythin’ worth a lick, but now all these things keep happenin’ and… and am I just really, really strange?” She closed her eyes, fearing the worst. “I don’t think I could take it if I were rejected by another family…” she whispered.

“Another family?” Sif asked, clasping Lauren’s hands.

“Long story,” Lauren sighed. “One I’d rather not get into right now.”

“Well then, no, Lauren. You are not odd, strange, or any number of similar words. You are an Ástvinur. One who's had very little time to adjust to that fate before she finished the binding. And knowing the men of your new family, who all clearly adore you, they have explained only enough of what that means to get by.”

Lauren couldn’t really fault her logic. After all, Loki started the binding without ever telling her. Though, this time, she figured it was more a case of she didn’t know enough to ask the right questions than him purposely leaving things out. “So… what don’t I know?”

“As you’ve finished your torque I will assume you know already what it took to get here.” She flicked her hand at the room.

“Of course,” Lauren agreed.

“Likely what you do not know is what all Asgardians are taught as we grow. The Ástvinur of a dark god changes, growing to be a counterpoint to their partner.”

“Yeah, I got that. Kind of figured that’s where the irony of the truth speakin’ comes in,” Lauren snickered.

Sif chuckled, too. “But you also become what Asgard most needs.”

“I… don’t understand,” Lauren murmured.

“Dark gods are essential to the health of Yggdrasil. In turn, the one who shares their light with their dark god also becomes essential to the health of the World Tree. Loki’s purpose has always been to stir things up. Bring mischief and mayhem to things, but also fun and amusement. He is the balance to Thor’s seriousness. His true name is the God of Revelry. He embodies the spirit of all things mischievous and happy and fun! And he has been sorely needed these past years.” She sighed and looked away, out the window at the view of Asgard.

“Tell me,” Lauren said, squeezing her fingers.

“Asgard was alive and lively for years because of Loki’s influence. Then, when his darkness began to overwhelm him, he changed, grew reserved and secretive. The other parts of his nature shifted to the forefront, and Asgard lost a step. With his betrayal of us, of Thor, and his fall from the Bifröst, we lost another. Then he returned and was so changed, all of us suffered when his darkness returned, and when Frigga died… it was like a shadow befell the halls.”

“I don’t understand, though. How does one person make such a difference?”

Sif looked at her and frowned. “You Midgardians think we call them Gods because they are powerful beings, but we call them Gods because to us, they are. Odin, Freyja, Loki, Thor, Frigga, Ægir, Ran, and a few others, they draw their power from Asgard. They are connected to it and Yggdrasil. They hold the worlds in balance, keep the tree healthy, and their deepest hearts and desires affect our world as strongly as a hurricane does yours.”

Lauren sat back and stared at Sif in shock. “I had no idea.”

Sif nodded slowly. “And now you are here to fit a missing piece of the puzzle.”

A half-hearted laugh slipped from Lauren’s lips. “Ha, great. Oh god…” She dropped her head back into her hands. “There’s no way I can do this and not make a big ol’ mess!”

“You’re misunderstanding me.”

“I am?” Lauren looked up.

“You physically cannot mess up. It is not possible. You are what Asgard needs. What Yggdrasil needs. There is no one in the entirety of the known and unknown worlds who is better suited than you, Lauren. You were picked to be Loki’s Ástvinur, and it was not random. You are not some mistake or second choice. You are exactly what we need, whatever that might be.”

“I… I… really?” Lauren whispered.

“No one will do but you, my friend. What that is yet? We cannot know, but if people stare, if they watch, if they whisper, it is not in judgment. It is in wonder. They hope to see you come into your own. They wish to be there to be able to say, “I was there when Lauren, wife of Loki, became…”

She couldn’t finish the thought, but Lauren got the gist. “I see.”

“I hope you do. Asgard is not Midgard. Those of us who have known Loki longest have been praying to the Norns for this. Most of us had lost hope. To have him back… to have you here.” She closed her eyes and smiled as she breathed deeply. “Already I can feel the change in the air. Frigga’s loss left a pall over the people. Loki’s triumphant return and your arrival have given them back such hope.”

“He struggles on Earth. People don’t trust him. When they found out about… this,” Lauren brushed her fingers over her torque, “most were highly suspicious. They didn’t like it. Threatened him. I, of course, threatened them back,” she snickered, and Sif laughed. “When Thor said people here were happy about this, about us, I was so happy. He’s been through… so much. More than anyone knows. I just… want people to see the good in him. The man I know and love. The one behind the snark and smirk.”

“We already do. He’s much changed. He actually apologized for shaving my head… and meant it!” Sif shook her head in wonder.

“We discussed it at length,” Lauren huffed. “I’m glad he made amends.”

“Nearly knocked me from my horse. Even worried about you Loki said you’d asked it of him, but he was sincere when he said it. In that instant, I knew this was real. He had finally found you. The heart in his darkness.”

Lauren blushed but smiled. “I like that.”

“And he laughs. I have not heard him laugh sincerely in such an age,” Sif said, her eyes clouding with memory.

“You grew up with them?” Lauren asked.

“I did, though they were older. Keeping up with them is what drove me to prove myself as a warrior. Now, Thor counts on me to have his back and handle things most men could not.”

She said it with both pride and sadness in her voice, and Lauren took a leap of faith. “You’ve had feelin’s for Thor for a long time, huh?”

Sif went ramrod stiff and reeled back. “He is my King! I owe him my fealty!”

“And I’m sure you love him as a subject loves their king, but I’m talkin’ about the feelin’s a woman has for a man who’s prime eye candy.”

“Lady Lauren! You are married!” she gasped.

Avoidance was as telling as a confession in Lauren’s book. “That may be, but that doesn’t mean I can’t look at my brother-in-law and appreciate the view. Now, you gonna keep beatin’ around the bush or fess up? It’s just us girls here.”

“Thor and I are friends, that is all,” she said stiffly. “I worked hard for my place at his side, and I will do nothing to jeopardize it.”

“That’s not a denial, Sif,” Lauren pressed.

She slumped forward as much as the armoured breastplate would allow. “It does not matter what my feelings on the matter are. Thor sees me as his sexless companion. That is all. I have no hope of anything else, and the fault for that is squarely my own.”

“Why would you say that? He likes and admires you. I know he does.”

“He admires my arm and my sword. Beyond that, I am no longer a woman in his eyes. I am only a compatriot, an added body in a battle. As I have become to every man. They call me Lady Sif but only to mock me.”

This time it was Lauren who reached out to take Sif’s hands. “That can't be true.”

“No one wants a woman who can best them in battle,” Sif sighed sadly.

“Now that’s just foolish talk! Have you tried?”

Sif blushed and shook her head. “I’m… embarrassed to admit I would not know what to do should a man flirt with me, nor could I find the courage to dress as you have tonight.”

“Do you want to?” Lauren asked quietly.

“I… I don’t know,” she said, frowning in confusion. “I’ve sought to be one way for so long…. Fought for equality and the right to stand at Thor’s side, I’m not sure I could change.”

Lauren got to her feet, feeling far steadier than she had, and tugged Sif up with her. “Don’t think of it as changin’. Think of it like… redressin’ a cake. Plain frostin’ tastes just as sweet, but if you add a few sugar roses, it looks all the fancier. You’re a beautiful woman, Sif. If you want to try somethin’ new, take a step out of your comfort zone, I’d be happy to help.”

“I… I’m not sure,” Sif said cautiously.

“Think about it. Maybe all you need is to step out of the warrior role for a night, show the world you’re still a woman and let loose a little. It might be all that’s needed to knock the scales from a few eyes.”

Sif peered at her for a moment more before giving a slow nod.

Lauren smiled brightly. “After all, I really need to do somethin’ to repay you. I would have worried myself in circles if you hadn’t explained this stuff.”

“I could tell you needed more assurance than what Loki was providing, but I wasn’t sure why. I’m glad we had time to talk without overbearing males getting in the way,” Sif snickered and headed for the door.

“Me too. I feel like there’s so much to learn and someone threw me in the deep end of the pool and said swim!” Lauren giggled. “This has been… really helpful.”

Sif paused before opening the door. “No matter what happens in the next days and weeks, remember that fate has chosen you. You are exactly where you need to be, and no one can tell you different. Without even doing anything, you improve the health of all of Asgard. When your power manifests, when your place on Yggdrasil is known, all will make sense and be perfect. For now, to use one of your Midgardian colloquialisms, just enjoy the rise.”

“I think you mean ride,” Lauren said, biting back a giggle.

“Not rise?” Sif frowned.

“Pretty sure it’s ride. You’re just supposed to sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”

“Ah,” Sif nodded and opened the door. “That would make better sense.”

“Unless you were on a boat,” Lauren murmured. “Then you could enjoy the rise and fall.”

“Indeed,” Sif said, her eyes growing round as she led the way back to the feast. “Though one does technically ride a boat, so perhaps you are correct.”

Giggling like mad, Lauren and Sif returned to the hall and resumed their seats. The tables had been cleared of what had been there and refilled with what could only be described as a sea of sugary confections as far as Lauren could see.

“Oh, my stars!” she breathed, taking her seat.

“Darling,” Loki crooned, lifting her hand to his lips.

She looked up, and his eyes were dark and lusty. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not nearly enough to fill the hole in my soul your leaving left behind,” he pouted and kissed her wrist.

“Poor baby,” she cooed.

“Feeling better, my heart?” he asked softly.

“Much. Sif was very helpful in explainin’ a few things I was mixed up about.”

“Better than me, sweet?”

His pout grew fuller, and Lauren leaned over the arm of her chair to bite it gently. “Only cause she’s a girl and thinks like one.”

“Bah! Sif hasn’t been a girl in years,” Fandral snorted.

Lauren glared him down. “That was incredibly rude. She is still Lady Sif. I think the implication is clear in the meanin’ of the word Lady, Fandral.”

“Careful, scoundrel,” Hogun chuckled. “I think the fair princess can out speak even your charming tongue.”

“It is fine, Lauren,” Sif said, her hand gripping Lauren’s tightly, dark eyes darting to hers beseechingly. “It is only a jest.”

“A poor one,” Lauren huffed, arching a brow at Fandral when he looked to say something further.

“My beautiful tigress,” Loki whispered in her ear, drawing Lauren’s full and instant focus. “Has Sif become another of those you claim as yours?”

She turned to look at him and ended up bumping noses. “She’s my friend. No one gets to talk down to my friends.”

“Brave and beautiful and compassionate,” he crooned, cupping the nape of her neck. “Is it any wonder I adore you?”

“Tom cat's kitten,” she teased a light warmth coating her cheeks. “You gonna kiss me or just woo me all night long?”

“I could do both, sweet, delicious Lauren. Sip from the bounty of your full lips while expressing my how much I treasure you,” he whispered and did just that, taking his time kissing her and nibbling on her lip.

Heat bloomed in her belly as Lauren closed her hand in his clothes and lightly bit his tongue when he begged entrance to her mouth.

“Mm, darling,” he crooned. “So naughty.”

She leaned closer and nipped his earlobe between her teeth, giving it a tug before whispering, “You made me this way.”

A hungry wolf growl came from his chest, but Lauren pulled away with a smirk making him pout again.

“You're so cruel to me,” he whined.

“And you are a little bit soused.” It made her giggle seeing him so. “What's your favourite sweet, Loki?” she asked to distract him from his amorous attentions.

His lips brushed her ear. “The one between your thighs, my darling,” he purred.

Lauren felt her face run scarlet and smacked his arm. “Cad!”

The fingers stroking her arm moved to lightly brush across her belly. “You make me this way,” he teased.

“Peaches,” she whimpered, his tender affection sending shockwaves of desire through her body.

Loki leaned even closer and brushed his nose up her neck. “By the Norns, you smell divine.”

His hand flattened to her stomach, and Lauren nearly moaned when the heat woke more strings of desire in her womb, seeming to tug and pluck with each sharp breath she took. “Loki, please… too many people are watchin’.”

He chuckled, and it was sensual and dark, silk and velvet sliding over her skin. “It is practically expected, my lovely wife. Asgardians have not the reservations to public displays of affection the Midgardians do, but I will relent… for now.”

Dark promise laced the words, and Lauren shivered, knowing she was in for a world of teasing later, and she was already uncomfortably wet. Clearing her throat, she motioned to the table as he sat back. “What’s your favourite of these confections?”

He flicked his fingers, and her plate was covered in a host of delightful looking desserts. “I know your preference for chocolate, darling.” Loki reached out and picked up a small square of nearly black sponge with a layer of white cream and a bright red berry on top. “Taste,” he purred and held it to her lips.

Lauren bit into the cake, trying desperately to keep her composure when he was acting all seductive and attentive. As soon as the flavour began to melt on her tongue, she lost the battle and moaned deeply, her eyes closing in bliss at what was undoubtedly a little piece of heaven in her mouth.

Dark, decadent, rich, and so delicious.

She knew that flavour, had tasted it before, and opened eyes gone glassy with desire. “That’s it,” she sighed.

“What, my love?” he asked quietly, his gaze drifting from hers to her lips and back.

“That’s what you taste like,” she whispered and reached up to tenderly stroke his cheek. “When I take you in my mouth and you-”

She never got to finish, for his mouth was on hers, tongue flowing between her lips as he purred and growled and hummed against her. It swept along the edge of her teeth and teased the tip of her tongue. He coaxed her into a slow dance of twining muscles, his tasting of mead and the sharp, cool mint she loved so much.

“I get your meaning, my heart,” he whispered when he drew away. “This my favourite dessert. Has been since I was a boy.”

“Mine too,” she sighed, playing with the hair lying on his collar.

He snapped his fingers, and a tall flute of crystal appeared in his hand. The liquid in it was a vibrant blue. “This… is what you taste like to me, sweet.”

He held it out like a challenge, one Lauren took with an arched brow and brought the glass to her lips. The wine was sweet, honeyed, but tart like the first cutting bite of a crab apple. Blended together they were addicting, intoxicating, and Lauren drank the glass in one greedy gulp before setting the glass on the table. “That’s… wow…” she sighed. “Really?”

“Strange as it sounds, yes. Exactly like that,” he crooned and skimmed his knuckles up and down her throat.

“I wouldn’t be averse to havin’ more of whatever that was, elskan min,” she smiled coyly and slipped her hand over his chest in a loving caress.

“Would you now?” Dark eyes greener than blue filled with cunning and amusement watched her like a hawk. “What would you do for more?”

She curled his hair around her fingers while slowly letting her opposite hand slide down his chest to rest on his tight abdomen. “What wouldn’t I do,” she whispered and watched his eyes glow green.

“Wicked, naughty girl. I love it,” he chuckled softly and held out her refilled glass.

“Is that Elven wine, Loki?” Thor asked, breaking them out of the moment.

“It might be,” Loki muttered, still looking at Lauren.

“It has been decades since I’ve enjoyed the beverage,” said one of the women from the other end of the table.

“And will likely be decades more,” Loki said, turning to look at her, “seeing as how Alfheim has stopped exporting it.”

There was such a snap in his voice, Lauren froze, unable to understand where the sudden coldness was coming from. “Loki?”

“The Ladies Gerda and Brigatta, and their husbands Lords Maurits and Njord. Commander Ulf, and the Guardian of Asgard, Heimdall, whom you met, albeit you were not at your best at the time,” Loki said, smirking at the very large dark man with the beautiful eyes who smiled at her from beside Odin.

“Highness. It is good to see you well.”

“Heimdall,” she smiled, trying not to blush, knowing he’d been the one watching them on Earth.

“Lady Gerda has an affinity for the finer things in life, Elven wine one of those things,” Loki sniffed indignantly.

“Lady Gerda and her husband, Lord Njord, have been at odds with Loki since the prince accidentally made Njord the second prettiest man on Asgard,” Fandral chuckled, causing the two he teased to clench their jaws.

Lauren blinked twice, trying to comprehend the flying remarks as she took in the others at the table.

Brigatta was a thin woman, pale with swallow skin, though Lauren thought much of that was due to the dark browns and blacks she was wearing. The way she had her hair scraped back into a coronet hair net wasn’t helping to soften the beak-like hook of her nose or the starkness of her hollow cheeks. Rail thin, she wore no jewelry but for the plain gold band on her ring finger, and no makeup to soften the hardness off her features or enhance her brown eyes.

Beside her was the man Loki indicated was her husband. Maurits was small, not thin like his wife, but short and rather weasley looking. His black hair and beard were so bushy, she was sure he smiled at her, but all she could see was the slight lift of his beard and an amused spark when it came to his grey eyes. Looking at him, he was someone Lauren knew would be easily forgettable, but as he was seated at Thor’s table, she knew he served a pretty important function. What? She couldn’t hazard a guess.

Gerda was so much the opposite of Brigatta it was startling. She had skin like rich loam, dark but so soft looking. It was dusted with gold, sparkling in the lamplight no different than Lauren’s. Her hair, however, was a deep russet, dark brown with beautiful red highlights which shot like fire through her braids and curls. Sapphires dripped from her ears, clung to every finger, and hung from her neck like teardrops in a webbing of silver. They complemented the dress she wore, a confection which clung to her curves and bared her arms and a good portion of her cleavage. Evidently, she was a woman who went by the notion, if you’ve got it, flaunt it, but with a husband the likes of the man beside her, Lauren figured she didn’t have much to worry about when it came to inappropriate advances.

Njord was big. Not quite Thor big, but big enough to give Lauren pause. He was what she knew people back home would have called a typical Nordic God with his bright blond hair and hard piercing baby blues. Clean shaven, his square jaw was hard set, his features sharp, and the scar bisecting his left eyebrow and cheek appeared an angry red with how tightly he was clenching his teeth.

Finally, the elder man at the table, one who resembled Odin in age, sat back in quiet amusement, his hands linked over the girth of his belly. His salt and pepper hair and beard were closely trimmed, giving him a rather debonair, slightly professor-ish look Lauren found open and appealing. He had kind brown eyes and smiled at her when her gaze fell upon him. He appeared to have dressed with care, shining armour, and well-oiled leather though he didn’t look like he was trying to be something he wasn’t. It was casual, comfortable.

Lauren liked him on sight.

Unfortunately, the Elven wine had caught up with her tongue, and before she could think about what she was going to say, she blurted out, “I’d say fifth.”

The bickering came to a stop, but she noted Ulf’s smile got a little bigger.

“What was that, darling?” Loki asked.

“He’s the fifth prettiest. Not the second,” Lauren smiled at Loki and sipped more of the Elven wine. She felt languid again, soft and relaxed, and gave a small giggle when she hiccuped.

Thor slowly turned to look at her, then grinned, big and full and far too mischievous to be Thor.

“Don’t do that. Y’all aren’t the God of Mischief. You can’t smile that way,” she pouted.

Thor pressed his lips together, and she wondered if something was wrong, before he cleared his throat and tilted his head regally. “Forgive me, little sister. You are quite right. But I’d very much like to know who this list of five contains.”

“I do not think-” Thor’s hand wrapped around Loki’s mouth cutting off his words.

“Go on, sweet sister,” Thor smiled gently.

Lauren frowned, her mind a little fuzzy as she tried to figure out why it looked like Thor was trying to suffocate her husband. “Well… Loki’s first, of course. There ain’t no one prettier than him.”

“Of course she’d say that,” Fandral snorted.

“Then you, Thor. You’re pretty enough for someone who likes all them muscles.”

Odin snorted into his cup. “Haha! Child, you bring joy to this old man.”

She smiled at him. “I’m glad, All-father.”

Loki pulled a short dagger out of the air and stabbed it into Thor’s thigh. “Let me go, you imbecile!”

“It is only a bit of fun!” Thor huffed and jerked the dagger from his leg. “That hurt, dammit!”

“Be thankful I did not stab you in the heart,” Loki grumbled. “Lauren, love. You do not have to finish. Thor is simply teasing you, and I think the wine has gone to your head as you’ve given that delightful giggle.”

“Oh? Well, that’s just rude,” Lauren huffed. “And after I put him second.”

“I still have not heard my name,” Fandral called, winking at her from his place a few chairs down.

“You’re fourth.”

“Lauren,” Loki sighed.

“What?” she blinked and finished the second glass of wine.

“Who’s third?” Sif asked.

“Lauren, no-”

“Heimdall.”

Someone choked from down the table, and Lauren peered at the big guardian who was cleaning up spilled mead.

“Lauren,” Loki sighed, and it was full of exasperation.

“What? He’s got really pretty eyes!” she huffed.

Loki only shook his head and smirked a little grin. “You are so much trouble.”

“I thought that was how you liked me?” she pouted.

He picked up the other bite of the chocolate cake and held it out for her. “Eat this, my love, and stop talking. Sif, you are absolutely no help.”

“It was highly amusing. I did not know you could turn such a shade of puce, Lord Njord,” Sif said haughtily to the blond with the scar.

“There is no accounting for taste,” Gerda snapped. “Ástvinur to the God of Mischief. I should have expected it.”

“Are you insinuatin’ somethin’?” Lauren asked, glaring at the other woman. “Because if we’re talkin’ poor taste, y’all may want to take a hard glance in the mirror.”

Gerda gasped. “I beg your pardon!”

“It doesn’t feel very good when someone comments nastily to your face, does it?” Lauren quipped.

“You know nothing about me to make such a judgment!”

Lauren huffed and waved a dismissive hand. “And yet you think you know enough about me, about Loki, to insinuate I have poor taste?”

“You’re nothing but a Midgardian peasant trying to rise above the dirt you crawled out of! You don’t belong here, fawning all over the wannabe prince like he deserves the chance at happiness an Ástvinur brings!”

“You bitch!” Lauren snapped, jolting to her feet, nearly the entire table rising with her in anger.

No one had a chance to do or say anything more, for Gerda was sent flying back from the table, chair and all when Geri and Freki slammed into her. Saliva dripped from their snarling mouths, their lips pulled back to reveal dagger sharp white teeth. Blood flew as each latched into the woman.

A hair-raising scream ripped through the air.

Lauren gasped and rushed past them all when no one made a move to stop the two wolves from tearing the woman apart. “Stop! Stop! No!”

Two sets of golden eyes turned to her as they lifted their bloodied muzzles from the sobbing woman’s body.

“Stop! Please stop!” Lauren begged, urging them away with outstretched hands. “Please. She may be mean and narrow-minded but don’t hurt her.”

“Geri, Freki,” Odin snapped. “Come away.”

They stepped back, still growling, but slunk away from Gerda to trot toward Lauren who set a shaking hand on each head.

Njord rushed to his fallen wife, Thor and Heimdall joining him.

“Loki,” Thor called. “I need you.”

“To save the life of the woman who insulted my wife?” He snorted his disgust.

“Elskan min,” Lauren whispered pleadingly. “There’s been enough death in these past few days. Please.”

His eyes softened, and the hardness fell from his features. Loki glided toward her and gently cupped her face. “For you, beloved. Only for you.”

Breathing out a relieved breath, Lauren watched him cross to the fallen woman, shoving Thor from her side as he knelt beyond the splatter of blood. A hand came down on Lauren’s shoulder, and she glanced at Odin, his face stern. He gave her shoulder a squeeze when he noted her attention, and she felt some of the anxiety flood away.

Loki’s face was once again harsh when he grasped Gerda’s chin and forced her to look at him. “You would die here this day if not for the compassionate heart of my Ástvinur. I could not be bothered to help you after what you have said here this night if not for her pity.”

“Prince Loki… please,” Njord said, the sound both pleading and disgusted for having to ask it of someone he hated.

“Know the woman you think so little of, the one your wife insults, saved your wife's life this day!” Loki snapped.

“I won’t forget it,” Njord agreed.

“I know you won’t. For I will leave the scars of what could have been in memory.” Green and gold light pulsed around Gerda.

Lauren watched as the wounds slowly closed, the edges knitting back together until all that was left were the raised marks and rough patterns where once Geri and Freki’s jaws had ripped and torn.

Loki waved his hand, and a portal opened, showing the halls of Asgard. “Take your woman and go. You are no longer welcome at this feast.”

“You will take her and leave the palace,” Thor said, and Lauren shivered.

She’d never heard him angry before, not like this at least. His eyes glowed a bright electric white, full of the lightning he was known for. More of it jumped around him in spikes and arcs, turning him into a living version of one of Tony’s toy Tesla coils.

“My King!” Njord gasped.

“You sit at my table, at the feast to welcome home my brother and his woman and think you can insult them without consequence!” he bellowed.

“I said nothing, my King! It was Gerda…”

Thor held up a hand, then pointed at the portal. “Exactly. You said nothing. The viciousness of your woman is not unknown to me, but you are her husband. You should have shut her stupidity down the moment she began to speak. Now, neither of you are welcome back to my court. Leave.”

“But, my King-”

“Leave!” Thor roared, and the lightning slammed into the roof.

Njord swept Gerda into his arms and left in a rush, one of the guards situated around the room going with them.

Loki waved his hand, closing the portal while removing the blood and all traces of the attack from the hall.

Thor returned to the table, past Lauren with long strides and stood before his people. “I am not deaf to the rumours, nor am I blind to the people spreading them, but make no mistake. The bond between Ástvinur cannot be faked. It cannot be falsified or manipulated. Any more comments to the contrary will be dealt with swiftly and harshly. My brother is home. He is balanced. If you must speak on this incident, then let it be said that Lauren, the first princess of this realm, saved the life of the one who insulted her For we all know Loki would have let her bleed.”

Lauren had begun to shake long before Thor finished his speech and found herself pressed between the two warm bodies of the wolves as they held her up until Loki arrived to gather her into his arms.

“Shh, my love. Everything is fine.”

“Not fine,” Lauren whimpered. “Very not fine.”

“Yes, it is,” Loki whispered and tilted her face away from where Gerda had laid bleeding to look him in the eyes. “There is always a fight or two at an Asgardian feast. In fact, they are considered boring without them. Gerda will live. Njord will leave - can’t stand that man anyway - and people will shut the hell up.”

He said shut the hell up with her own accent and surprised a giggle from her. “You sound super sexy like that.”

“I certainly do not,” he chuckled.

She sobered and clung to his coat. Odin and the wolves had moved away the instant Loki had taken hold of her, but she still felt the need for support. “I should have stopped talkin’. I never should have commented. I really can’t be trusted with alcohol.”

“Lauren,” he chuckled and shook his head. “It was nothing. You spoke your mind and your opinion. Gerda has been looking for an opening since we sat down.”

“How important were they? They were sat at this table. They had to be some kind of important.”

“Njord is the son of one of Odin’s past advisors. He came to the position because of his breeding. He was never any good at it, always a hothead, and Thor knows this. He never took Njord’s opinion into account and has been honestly looking for a way to rid himself of the man’s company for some time. You did him a favour, darling. I promise.”

“Really?”

He smiled and tapped the end of her nose. “Really, really.”

She sighed in relief. “Okay.”

“Come, there are more desserts to try and entertainment to be enjoyed.” Loki led her back to the table where he sat her first before moving back to his seat.

There was still quite a hush over the people, and he hesitated before he sat down. “You know,” he called out, and everyone turned their attention to him. “It really has been too long since anyone has enjoyed Elven wine, hasn’t it?”

“It has, brother,” Thor grinned.

“And it wasn’t expected that we’d get to celebrate my return and a finished binding, so we should really have something special to commemorate the moment,” Loki smirked wickedly when the people began to call out in agreement.

“A good way to show the depth of your power, my son. Seeing how some still question the legitimacy of your bond,” Odin agreed.

“Quite right, Father. Quite right. After all, if I were still but a master of illusion could I do… this?”

He flicked his hand out and bottles of frosted glass, twice as tall as a wine bottle, appeared multiple times on every table. A second flick had crystal flutes the same as the one sitting before Lauren appearing before each dinner.

“Enjoy,” Loki said with a flourish.

At first, no one moved, then at a table a few feet away, one man reached out, picked up the bottle, and poured. He lifted the glass to his lips, drank, closed his eyes, and sighed. “Shades of Valhalla… I have missed this.” Opening his eyes, he lifted his glass to Loki. “May the Norns bless the prince and his lady wife! Skål!”

A cheer went up as everyone began to celebrate anew.

Loki sat with a smile, picked up Lauren’s hand, and kissed her knuckles.

It appeared everything would be alright.

Next Chapter

#Of Blood and Roses #loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson fanfiction #Loki x Lauren #god of mischief #god of mischief fanfiction #asgard au