Work Text
Sigyn had just emptied the bowl of water in the yard, when she sensed something was wrong. She felt the cold prickle her skin, breathed deep and went inside, the odd feeling still in her chest. She went to the last room in the small corridor, were a certain guest used to stay.
”Loki? Are you alright?” when he didn’t answer, she pushed the door open, and by the sight of him, she nearly dropped the bowl.” Oh, Loki!”
It was everywhere.
From down his chin it had flown freely from nine stings in his mouth. With a small knife he seemed to try to break it from his face but hadn’t gone far. Red stained his chest, his trousers and the bed beneath him, spilling to the floor.
”Wait here, I’m going to find Eir.” She said and shut the door behind her, running to the healer’s door. Luckily, Eir was still up, when the young woman explained herself. Sigyn’s heart beat loudly in her ears, but Eir didn’t seem in a hurry.
“If he hasn’t made a big fuss out of it, neither should we,” Eir said and made the servants bring clean cloth, knives and hot water. She also asked for a kettle of herbal tea and three cups.” Sigyn,” Eir said” fetch a stool, we do this together.”
She didn’t know where to place her hands, so she twisted her apron between them, standing in the door with view of Eir’s back.
“come in, and close the door, girl.”
She did as she was told, but still didn’t know what to of herself. Loki clenched his fists in thin sheet on his bed, all soaked in red. His eyes were shining wet but glowed with something other than self-pity and sadness. It was the look of anger and hurt, a look of a murderer.
Sigyn took a deep breath and sat behind him, not minding the blood on her dress.
“who did this to you?” she asked touching his hand. He stopped breathing but didn’t move his hand.
“this is silver thread,” Eir said, “it has magic in its core. Something tells me this is the work of dwarves.”
“Dwarves?” Sigyn asked “why didn’t you go to Odin? How can he let anyone do this to you?”
Loki sniffled, not wanting to meet her eyes.
“Oh,” Sigyn said. “What ever you did, you surely didn’t deserve that.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, the smirk gone as soon as it had appeared.Sigyn just looked at him. Maybe this was the final straw for Odin and this mutilation was a punishment. Whatever it was, Eir was almost finished removing the silver from his lips.
Sigyn her hand in his so he could squeeze it when the pain came. He didn’t. Instead it reached his eyes, making him squint in a mixture of suffering and hatred. But he didn’t move, even as she moved her thumb back and forth along the back of his hand hand.
When Eir cut the last piece of thread and let it fall into her lap, Loki sighted loudly and licked his broken lips.
“thank you” he mumbled, he didn’t let go of Sigyns hand and he didn’t say much else. Eir handed her a piece of cloth warm from the water.
“What do I do?” Sigyn asked but all she received were a pair of furrowed brows, as the healer got up and began washing her hands, throwing the remainder of the silver away.
So Sigyn trailed Loki’s throat, his chest and gave him the cloth for his mouth for last.
“Can you speak?” she asked him, the rage in his amber eyes gone.
Eir poured herself a cup of tea, sipped it noisily and nodded. “You’ll be fine,” she said, but Sigyn was worried still, for reasons she didn’t quite understand.
“Will you clean this up?” Eir didn’t wait for an answer, but simply took her cup of tea and left.
“You shouldn’t worry,” Loki said, squeezing her hand and letting go, “I’ve been through worse. Even though this was a real stinger.” He laughed at his own words then shook his head.
“You are too kind, Sigyn.”
“Everyone deserves kindness.” She said.
“People like you often get hurt.” He dapped the reddening cloth around his mouth, looking at it with fascination and something else Sigyn couldn’t quite recognize.
“And when they do,” Loki continued “it is often by people like me.”
She got op and collected the bowl and the tools, feeling his eyes on her the whole time. She wasn’t afraid. Some of the servants said Loki was gentle and kind, others simply stated that he was the true face of evil, and wanted nothing to do with him, even if it meant spending the day emptying latrines instead of serving him.
But it was talk of servant, she thought. What about talk from the Gods?
She took a final look at him, when she went through the doors.
“Goodnight, Loki.” She said, and when she closed the door behind her, she heard him answer.
“Goodnight Sigyn.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The summer nights were the merriest, filled with laughter and song. The warmth of the day had left skin freckled and the mead made cheeks flush red and eyes smile. Sigyn loved those nights. The days were hot and the sun unforgiving, but the harvest looked promising and it made Frey laugh with joy. It was at his hall people gathered after work one summer night, arms linked in dance and song in people’s throats. Sigyn danced around barefoot on the floor, from one partner to the other, laughing, cheering and singing with glee. She twirled around and went into the arms of him; one that refused to let her go. He held her hand, not hard but firm, twirling her himself and returning her into an embrace. “I forgot to say thank you,” he said, eyes burning with green and yellow, scars along his mouth. “It was nothing at all,” she answered, but couldn’t look away from his lips.The continued the dance, but every time they met again, hands meeting, her cheeks would burn. She thought of what to say the next time they were linked in dance, but once she had thought up a snarky remark, he was nowhere to be seen. She came to a halt and looked around. Nowhere. Blasted god of lies and tricks, she thought, but regret hit her as soon. She just wanted to talk, nothing more.She knew he helped controlling the field-fires, but he didn’t show up the next day, or the next. Soon she decided to forget. Her work was more important, and not as tiresome as to be looking for someone who does not wish to be found. The harvest was bountiful, and the mead sweet after all. Idun came with apple cider one particularly hot day, when the sun was high in the sky. “Isn’t it annoying?” the blonde goddess asked, as Sigyn took a sip. “I like to keep my hands busy,” she answered.“Hopefully not with him. I meant, isn’t it annoying that he’s just sitting there staring at you?” Idun nodded at the top of a small hill, where Loki’s slender silhouette sat beneath a tree. “Well,” Sigyn said “he does help, and he does some work. He’s just waiting for us to be done so he can burn the field.” Idun raised a brow. “As long as he stays away from me. I will not believe a word from him ever again.” “You did get to see the world, wasn’t that what you always wanted?” “Not from the top of a tower,” Idun said, and then she continued her round of sharing the cider with the rest of the workers. Sigyn readjusted her straw hat and looked in his direction. The waved. And when he didn’t wave back, she was sure that it wasn’t at all her, he was looking at. The thought calmed her nerves. When the harvest was finally over, a large boar was butchered, and a feast was held in the halls of Frey. This time she didn’t dance for long. She saw him from across the room, and when their eyes caught hold of each other, he winked at her and raised his cup. When he left around midnight, she followed.You had to keep your eyes on him, or he would disappear, she thought. She followed him to the hill, and he sat beneath the tree. “What are you doing?” she asked him, not caring if he knew she was following him. “I could ask you the same,” he said, “but I’m going to ask you instead, if it isn’t dangerous for women to go around alone in the dark?” “I am surrounded by good people, I’m quite safe, thank you.”“Is that so?” he tilted his head, but she wasn’t afraid. Not the slightest. She nodded.He smiled, teeth glinting in the light of a crescent moon, and pulled a bottle from his jacket. “Care to join me?” She went to his side, sitting beside him underneath the night sky. He lit a cigarette with is fingers and handed her the bottle. The sweet smell tickled her nose and reminded her of roses and caramel. “what is it?” she asked.“Flower-rum,” lighting up his face was the reddish glow from the cigarette, as he took a long drag. “My favorite. Or -“ he snickered “or one of them.” She took a sway, it tasted of the sweetness of fragrant flowers and the spiciness of rum, and the caramel-taste did not leave her mouth even after she swallowed; “It’s actually good.” “Don’t sound so surprised, I have great taste, you know.” They sat for a while, the sound of nature surrounding them. “What are you doing out here?” Sigyn asked again. The last warmth of days’ sun, leaving her body, sending a shiver down her spine and further to her bare legs and feet. “Just watching, waiting,” he said looking at the sky “it’s a lot of waiting from my part.” He looked at her. “You don’t want to come inside again? You heading home?” She swayed the bottle, taking another mouthful of the sweet liquor. He didn’t answer. Sigyn had heard that Loki wasn’t staying at Thors place anymore. He moved out shortly after Sigyn had found him, mouth sewn together. Though nobody knew why, she figured their quarrel had something to do with the scars along Lokis mouth. “I’ve felt this strange energy in the air lately. Like everything is going to change.” Sigyn said, leaning against the tree, feeling the cold bark against her back. “Everything is changing. Always. That how you know the world is thriving.” His eyes met hers and it felt like the truth. “But how do we know it is changing for the better?”“We don’t,” he laughed “and isn’t it wonderful? We know as much about the future as the old man does, he is just as blind and unknowing like the rest of us. For once, we can all live and grow in mystery, making our own luck and changing our own fate.”“Sounds like something to look forward to, “ she said lowering her gaze, and laying a hand upon his. “It is.” He said. They met like this every evening, watching the sky and the stars above them. Loki told strange stories of the embers of Muspell and how they got to hang in the dark skies, guiding people on long journeys. He told her of his children, the monsters of the Iron Woods and cried silently about their absence, Sigyn wiping his tears with her sleeve. She told him of her journey to the fields of Ida and how Asgard looked the first time she saw the enormous wall reaching the sky and keeping the gods safe. She baked him cake with cherry and cinnamon, and he showed her magic swirling in the air like green dragons. They sat together underneath the tree, talking until the sun crept up the horizon. And they met again when the sun set and the days’ work done. “Will you walk with me?” She asked one day, swinging her legs from a branch in the tree. It was getting colder, the dry leaves threatened their escape with the next gush of wind. “I can see up you skirt when you’re sitting like that,” he said, and she tossed her shoe at him, laughing and almost falling from the branch, and he caught her in the air, swinging her around and she squealed with joy. When her feet met the ground, she took his arm and they began walking down the hill and into the woods. “I saw you here, some days after you arrived,” Loki said “you were picking flowers with the others for the may-fest.” “You remember that?” She smiled at the memory. They had braided flowers into wreaths and hoisted a great may-pole, decorating it with ribbons in bright colours. Sigyn herself had braided flower into her hair and sung with her friends, when she saw Loki in the woods by an oak-tree. He sat alone, braiding flowers into his own strawberry-blonde hair, that shone bright in the early sun. She hadn’t thought about how odd it was, he was sitting alone. However, she knew now that she had spend her years in Asgard, that Loki was almost always alone, if not with Odin or Thor, or drinking heavily in the hall of the All-father. “I remember,” he said and they were silent for some time. The sun was low, and rays of spotted light hit the forest floor. Where the sun shone, glinting mist rose from the ground, surrounding them like a damp blanket. “Sigyn there is something I need to talk to you about,” Loki said “before you hear it from somebody else.”“If it about Sif, then I already know,” she said, but he shook his head. “No you don’t.” Sigyn looked at the ground. It was foolish to think anyone wanted something as ordinary as her, in a world of gods and goddesses each more beautiful than the other. “I met her when we were young. In her homeland, on one of the old mans’ diplomatic tours around the worlds.” He began, not letting her hand go. “I thought, that we still had a chance. That I still had a chance, but …” he swallowed “but I guess I never had, and I needed to get it in my thick head the hard way.” At that he chuckled, and she looked at him. “I guess I’m saying – “ he smiled, and she found herself struggling to grasp just one feeling, jumping from one to another, anger and joy, jealousy and hope. “I do not want you to feel like you got second place. You did not. There was never a race, and never any competition. I just needed to open my eyes and see something else than my own misery.” He squeezed her hand. “Her boy doesn’t know who his father is, and I should have sensed it then. That she didn’t want me in her life. I think – “ he sighed, but didn’t stop smiling “its time for me to be with people, that actually want me in their lives, and enjoy my company.”He paused, shifting from one foot to another. “I enjoy your company, Sigs.” She looked at her feet and then out into the woods, without really seeing anything. She didn’t take her hand but kept it in his. She could feel his eyes on her, and she met them. Saw how they changed from deep blue, to green to a light amber. “I enjoys yours too.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Loki did what Loki always do when in doubt about something – he did something he would later find stupid, though he wouldn’t regret it entirely.
So while while fucking Freya and she spoke his name, he told her to shut up so he could think. And when they had finished, she got up and began putting her hair back in order.
“You were thinking about her,” she said, wrapping a thick braid around her head and fastening it with golden pins, pearls and chains dangling from them.
“No shit.”
“You should talk to her, Loki, and please don’t smoke in here, the smell get into everything.”
“I already have,” he said and lightened the cigarette with a smooth movement “I need to think.”
“You have, and you were thinking about her, what you wanted to do with her.”
“It’s primal.”
“It’s pure.”
“I feel like an animal.”
“We all do.”
He cocked a brow at her, but didn’t say anything.
“It wasn’t all dirty though,” Freya said redoing her lipstick with a skilled hand. Before it had been a bright orange, her smile innocent and her eyes friendly. Now the colours were dark like a fine wine, and her eyes piercing when she met his eyes in the mirror.
“The dreams about the cottage were pretty sweet.”
“Gods I hate when you do that,” He blew a ring a smoke and scowled.
“Weren’t that why you came?” She asked “to see if your feelings were true?”
“Were they then?” He got up looking for his trousers, finding them tossed by the door along with the rest of his clothes. Freya didn’t answer, instead humming a tune of love and life. He put on his clothes, put out his cigarette in a flowerpot and went out the door.
He needed to think. The sky greyed and birds left to spend their winter in warmer places. He kicked the ground, threw a rock at them and swore. He crouched down, face in his hands and puling his hair, he remembered a story of long ago.
It was a tale of a woman of the ancients, more beautiful than the first leafs of spring.
She loved a man dearly, but he hurt her deeply. She fled into the woods.
When she gave birth, she kept the child hidden. If it was ever a child. Maybe it wasn’t.
Maybe it was a forest fire, birthed in pain. It ate and ate and grew bigger and bigger.
It almost destroyed her.
Loki thought of his mother. How did people treat her, when in love with a etin? How did they treat her when he hurt her? But the most important thought he found himself return to again and again, twisting it, bending it in his mind: how would the gods treat Sigyn if they found out?
He rose again, looking up at the sky. The winter were fast on its way, winds howling in the naked branches. On the next gust of air, he took off and left to spend his winter elsewhere.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Sigyn went through the thick blanket of snow covering the lands from the southern shores to the northern mountains. She heard the ocean had frozen over. However, she was content with the cold on her cheeks, the snowflakes in her hair and the warmth of her boots, her heavy jacket and her mittens. From afar she looked like a young bear, furry and fat. Coming in closer one saw the happy face of a woman smiling, cheeks red, underneath a great hood. She looked for spruce cones to dry and throw in the fire. It smelled of jul she thought. Liquorice and mint, mixed with the smokey smell of the cones. She picked them up with clumsy mittened hands and put them in her pocket. She reached a small creek, water running underneath a layer of ice. She picked a icicle from a tree-branch and picked at the frozen stream so she could drink. She saw deer, small birds and a squirrel. She dusted off the snow from a fallen tree and sat on it, head in her hands. Breath visible in the cold air, she sighed and wondered if there were anything so beautiful as the sun in the winter, the golden-pink light shining in every tree and the tiny crystals of the snow. It glinted and shone so bright her eyes hurt by the time she went home. Frigg sat in the living room, with her back at the door, weaving magic with her great loom. The fabric was delicate, a weaving of bright blue and silver thread. “there you are, dearest,” she said while Sigyn struggled with her heavy boots, “I made tea.” After somewhat of a battle, Sigyn’s boots came off and she laid her steaming jacket in front of the fire and spread out the cones to dry. She poured herself a cup of herbal tea and sat down by Frigg’s side. The tapestry told tales of heroes of Midgard, the tale of Frigg herself winning a bet against her husband. “Isn’t it a bit much?” Sigyn asked, and without turning her head Frigg answered: “I intend to make it as painful as possible.” She adjusted her thick black braid, and continued her work. Swiftly Frigg’s hands went along the thread before pushing gently with the comb, swearing when she made a mistake and had to undo three whole rows. “Will you stop sighing, dear? It is terribly distracting.” The god-queen said. “I’m sorry, “ Sigyn said “it’s just, I was hoping to get to know who attend the midwinter feast?” “Everybody does,” Frigg said “just like everybody always do.” “Just like always?” “Of course.” Frigg turned to face her “if I were you, I would throw a stick of cinnamon and half an orange into the fire tonight. To say ‘hello’.” “Does it work?” Sigyn looked into the fire, then at Frigg’s stern face, the old goddess smiling and returning her work at the loom. Sigyn looked at her hands, then back at the fire. “Alright, then.” An orange was a had thing to come by in the winter. In her own kitchen, Sigyn found a glass jar with cinnamon, but she had crushed it into a fine powder the year before, and couldn’t find any whole sticks. She found star anise though, and she stole slices of dried orange from the kitchens of Frigg, at thought it fair as it all was Frigg’s idea to begin with. The she spread out her loot and mixed it in her bowl. Magic disk, a plate and sometimes even a shield, Sigyn’s bowl was a gift from the dwarves and could turn into the thing most needed for the young goddess. She had even used it as a sled once, strapping the wolf Geri at the front and going around fast, too fast, and into a tree. The bowl was unharmed, but Sigyn had bruises enough to last the winter. She went with her bowl filled to the brim, into the living room and sat by the fire. “I don’t know how to do it,” she whispered to the flames, and the yellow flickers seemed to dance for her, making her smile. She fed it a piece of orange, then another. Then anise and dried mint leaves, then the cinnamon, sprinkling it into the flames. A loud crackle sent glowing embers up the air, the smoke leaving through the chimney, almost laughing and singing on its way out. She fed it more, with Frigg’s eyes on her back.“What know?” Sigyn asked, her bowl empty and her heart lighter.“Know you wait.” Midwinter was celebrated in the halls of Sif and Thor, the great house of Bilskirner, with food enough to feast for days. And they did. Sigyn had dressed herself in a teal dress, hair pulled up and away from her face and adorned with gold and aquamarines. She got herself a glass of mulled wine and watched the dancing with shining eyes. “You look stunning,” he said, and she almost dropped her glass in surprise. “Had one too many, huh?” He laughed and took it from her hand. “I have not!” She turned to him, face flustered red and angry “where have you been all winter?” “Away.” He said and gulped down the rest of her wine. He was dressed in a tunic the same colour as her dress, “Blue isn’t really my colour. But you chose this, and I think I can pull it off.” He smiled, scars pale traces along his mouth and with a laugh in his throat. “I’m glad you’re back,” she turned her face back to the dancing. Leaned against his chest, his arms around her. “Stay with me, Loki.” She said and he brushed his face against her neck. “You don’t know me,” he whispered, the words touching her skin. “Be with me.” She turned to kiss him, their lips inches apart, his eyes on hers, flashing green and amber. He looked at her, his voice filled with worry.“I can’t,” He let her go. “Why not?” “It isn’t right.” He raised his voice only a little, but enough for people around them to hear. “Why?” she said, her eyes filled with tears. It felt like the time had stopped, her heart beating loudly in her chest. She could feel it, her heart. Beating and breaking. “I’m a jotunn, Sigyn.” He said, not taking her eyes from hers a single time while he spoke: “I am a jotunn, an etin. Being with me, isn’t right for an asynje. I will taint your name and your legacy, Sigyn.” She swallowed hard, looking at the floor, then back at his darkened eyes. “Marry me.” She said. The room fell quiet Loki blinked, didn’t know where to look. “Eh - “ “Just say yes, you fool” it was Thor, raising his glass and winked at her. People laughed and cheered, and returned to their drinking and singing and celebrating.Sigyn bit her lip, and leaned back into Lokis arms. She felt his breath in his hair, as he whispered: “okay.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
In Her ArmsAnd that was how she found him by her window one late evening, some time before their wedding, stars hidden behind dark clouds. Rain fell, but the tapping on her window was different. When she went to open it, he slipped inside without a sound. Sigyn rushed to kiss him.
“I got a sword!” He proclaimed, clothes dripping wet on the floor.
“I don’t doubt that.” She giggled handing him a towel from the washstand.
“No, I mean a real sword. For the wedding,” he put forward a bundle, about three feet long and bound tightly with leather string, “it’s for you. When the old man disposed of my father, he planted the lightning in the earth to make Thor. But I found the leftovers, here you go.” He placed it in her hands.
“You really didn’t have to,” She said. “I’m sure we could get married without one.”
Underneath the leather she could feel it humming, whispering. Her eyes grew big “It’s alive?”
“yeah, no. Not really, ” he then smiled proudly “do you like it? No returns, all sales are final.”
She was about to unwrap it, when he put his hand on hers and shook his head. “Not in here.”
“Oh. I – “
There was a knock on the door, and a young servant poked her head in.
“Lady Sigyn we heard- “she glared at Sigyn’s companion “we just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
The girl nodded, then she closed the door and left the couple in the dimly lit room by themselves.
The only lighting came from an old lamp Sigyn had left on by her nightstand, maybe hoping her suitor would see it as a sign to come by. She put down the wrapped sword by the door.
“You’re soaked,” she said “don’t you want to get out of those wet clothes?”
He looked at her with eyes of hazel and gold, smiling “thats the worst pickup-line I’ve ever heard.”
“I’m trying my best!” She laughed and took his hands and let him to the bed. She stood on her toes reaching to kiss him, he drew his hands up her back and pulled her closer. Her hands was between them, brushing against him, and reaching to undo the laces of her nightgown. As the soft dress fell from her shoulders, she kissed him deeper, longingly, and pushed him onto the bed. “Your turn. Undress,” she said.
“I thought everyone had seen me naked by now,” Loki joked, but underneath she saw something else, nervousness and excitement. He bit his lip.
“I want to see you. Really see you,” She climbed on top of him, and began undoing the buttons of his shirt. “I want to.” Their lips met again, so painfully slow. With Sigyn on his lap, he freed himself of the shirt. Then trailing his hands down her neck, to her shoulders, to her breasts and her sides. He planted kisses on her neck and she hold him tight, while he shed his trousers, laying naked underneath her. Again and again he asked if she was alright, if it all was alright. To silence him she caged his head between her hands, looked into his eyes as he pushed his stiffness inside her. “I love you,” he said between kisses. She gasped at the feeling of his full length, rocking her hips, encouraging him to go faster, and faster still. Her hands roamed over his body, fingers trailing over every scar and stretch-mark. She swore she would one day count all of his freckles, and she wanted to tell him how it felt inside her.
They were a mess, a beautiful mess, with every thrust and toe-curling movement as they were brought closer to climax. They were ever so silent, not wanting to be disturbed, even if the squeaking of the bed gave them away. He grapped her behind firmly and sighed softly in her ear.
“Loki, I’m almost there,” she said, face buried in the crook of his neck, kissing and sighing.
“I’m right behind you, dear.”And with that, she let go. A bliss, a darkness and the feeling of his hips stuttering as he released into her, with soft moans and whispering her name over and over.He still lay by her side, when gentle sunlight woke her. All night they had been whispering about everything and about nothing, and Sigyn felt something, light and fluttering inside her chest. She turned to her sleeping lover. His face looked so peaceful as ever, mouth slightly open and bathed in the light of the morning. Flaming light hair, and light eyelashes. She smiled when she realized he looked quite innocent when he slept. Carefully she trailed her hand over his features, his brow, cheekbones and she stopped with a thumb over his scarred lips. They looked as if he had screamed his mouth open that night, that night she found out he wasn't scared of her or her kindness. Truly, no one was ever scared of her - but worrying that with kindness came stupidity. Whenever Sigyn dared to open her mouth, people were worried with her seeming intellect. "How long have you been staring at me?" Loki asked, his voice still full of sleep. She pressed her face to his, and bopped their noses together. "How long have you been awake?" "Oh, long enough, " he said "but I wanted to let you bask in my beauty, just awhile longer." She held his face in her hands and kissed him, so he would shut up, and maybe to make herself sure he was truly hers. When she felt him pressing against her leg, and a familiar urge building inside her. "there will be breakfast soon," she whispered into his ear, as a he moved between her legs. Kissing from behind her her, down her neck and to her breasts, further and further down until she only wish was that none would ever disturb them, and force them from each others embrace. She held on to him as the last of his climax left his eyes, sweat beading on his skin and his amber eyes gazing deeply into hers. She crossed her legs behind his back and pulled him in closer to kiss his forehead. "Eh - " he said. "What?" "nothing." "an 'eh' isn't nothing, " she frowned "did I do something wrong?" "It's just, I forgot that the rest of my father is still in that sword, " he nodded towards the bundled weapon by the door. "Oh," she put a hand to his cheek "Are you okay?""Hm? I'm fine, " he chuckled "we just did it in front of him!" he buried his face in her hair and despite her effort, she couldn't help but laugh. "Loki?" "Yes, dear?" "Can I see you house?"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It was one of those midsummer nights were the sun never fully sets, and the stars twinkle only faintly above the Trudvang* woods
Thor threw another piece of wood on the fire, and seated himself by a young rowan with heavy thunk
"Lady Sif, your hair is like gold," said the girl Røskva, braiding the godess' hair, "how is it, that it shines so bright?"
She was the youngest of two farmer children Thor and Loki had brought with them home. The boy, Tjalfi, still with sour expression on his face, refused to take part in the fun Thor and Sifs twins were having, and settled by older Magni, carving something with a small knife in a stubborn piece of dark walnut.
Sif chuckled, "That's actually the same reason that Thor has Mjolnir and Loki has his scars."
"Is it?" The girl continued braiding pulling excitedly in Sifs hair, making the goddess squint her eyes in pain.
Loki didn't look up, as for know he lay under the birch tree on the other side of the fire, keeping one ear on the storytelling and another on the twins, playing warriors with wooden sticks in the forest. Sometimes they would roar at each other, as their father did, painting a faint smile on Loki's lips, but otherwise they fought and squealed like children do, when making up games.
It was Thor that told the story, as he often did, boasting and laughing his thunderous laughs, making his voice hoarse at the exciting parts and ending - as the story did - with a sweet kiss for his wife.
"Euck" Tjalfe said, but caught the older Magni's curious expression and quickly followed. "Uncle Loki," Røskva said "how come you're not married?"
"I am," Loki answered still not bothering to open his eyes, instead showing her the golden ring on his finger by lifting his hand.
"Huh," was Røskvas only answer. Instead the twins came hurling out of the trees and landed on their uncle, making him but spit and curse in surprise.
"Uncle you can marry ME!" Trod laughed like a bell chime.
"But Trud," he answered grabbing them both by the waist, his arms around them.
"By the time you're as old as me, I will be nothing but a head dangling by a dwarfs belt. I will be all wrinkly and white haired and -" he pressed his head in between the twins, making a raspy high pitched voice:
"Oh, dear Trud, roll me over so I can look at you!"
The twins squealed with both fright and delight as they struggled free and went hiding by their mother. *"Do you have any children?" Røskva asked,
Loki looked up ar the stars and the ash floating towards the sky, as if joining the lights above.
"No," he said finally.
Røskva looked at him, he could feel that. And he could feel the sorrowful expressions Thor and Sif shared, and he did not like it.
"They're gone now."
"How?"
She did not mean to hurt, of course, but in the curious way children ask, because they want answers that can shape their world.
"My wife Sigyn and I, once ahead a baby that became very sick, even before we knew it was even in her belly. When it was born it was way to little and already dead."
Røskva seemed to think about that for a while.
"Did Sigyn die?"
"No." Loki swallowed, "but after that, we needed some time apart."
A moment of silence passed.
"Is that why you live with us now?"
This time it was Magni who asked, sending Tjalfi gaping.
"Yes."
"But who else would keep all you children in line, huh?" Said Thor who was quick to anger, quick to sorrow, and quick to changing the subject when needed. For that, Loki thought, he was somewhat grateful.*Later that night when the fire was almost out, and Truds had curled up in Lokis arm to sleep, Røskva edged close to him, and wrapped his cloak around herself.
"Loki," She whispered into his shirt "did all of your children die?"
Loki, who had been half asleep himself, when he heard her stir by Sif, turned his head and whispered into her hair:
"Nothing will happen to you, girl. as long as I am here, I will let no harm befall you or your brother. I promised your parents that, and I intend to keep that promise."
She clung to his shirt until she finally succumbed to sleep and her grip loosened. As the last faint embers hissed, and the fire died out, they carried the children to their beds, Thor carrying Tjalfi, still too young to wake, even if he acted older. Magni carried Trud and Sif Modi, caressing her son on his soft red cheeks.
Loki carried Røskva, the child still wrapped in his cloak, and whispered into her hair, the promise of keeping all of his children safe.