Summary:How the marriage of Loki and Sigyn came to be, from their point of view. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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As she prepared on her wedding day, Sigyn was both excited and nervous. That was to be expected, of course, but there was more than just the normal nerves. As the women of her family helped her bathe and dress for the occasion, her mother elaborately braiding Sigyn's hair for the ceremony, she tried to listen to the advice and laugh at the teasing. Yes, she and her groom were both eager. It was an arranged marriage of course, and a good one, but over the past month they seemed to have really connected and fallen in love with each other. The nerves, however… the nerves were more than the normal pre-wedding fears.
She had never told her family how Loki had propositioned her, offering her a small fortune for an evening in her bed. Not because they might be angry at the Prince, but because like a fool she had lost her temper. Turning him down, that was acceptable. But she had lost her temper and insulted the prince… if her family knew -that- she would be in trouble, and the wedding might even be delayed. If they knew Loki had yelled something about revenge and having her as he left (exactly what, she hadn't exactly been paying attention to in her rage) the wedding might even be called off as they tried to appease his Highness.
So as the bridal crown was set carefully on her elaborate braids and her father's sword strapped about her waist, Sigyn tried to laugh with her family and friends and ignore the fear that something was going to go horribly wrong, and it would all be the fault of letting her temper get the better of her. Never again, she silently promised herself. She was going to be married, she was going to be happy, and she was going to bite her tongue and never again let her temper get the better of her like that.
How DARE she refuse me! Loki's thoughts circle back and back again to the woman's firey denunciation of him as loathsome, as she protested that her virtue was not for sale for mere jewels, not even for treasure. HOW dare she? Stupid woman, didn't she realize the honor he offered her? Still…she was rather magnificent in her fury, the flashing blue eyes, the flush to fair cheeks, she nearly glowed with rage and affront!
This is a younger Loki, of course, some twelve-hundred years younger, effectively a seventeen year old Prince. Even as the least favored of the Allfather's sons, that's still a life of privilege and plenty. The best food. The best clothing. The best teachers. The best of everything…dammit…he DESERVES the prettiest wife! Only fair considering how little else he was allowed to do, how little regard his brothers held him in. Mother understood…she even indulged his love of the mystical arts, no Dullard he, not like the Heir!
Bah.
Even as he planned an elaborate revenge a servant brought word of Sigyn's betrothed's death in an ambuscade. "Does anyone know he fell?" He asked the servant, who shakes her head. "No, Highness, it is not yet known." And then Loki began to smile. "Tell no one, make sure no one finds out, then take me to where he fell."
A simple matter to take on the shape and arms of the fallen minor lordling, the Royal Guardsman. Trival really to insinuate himself into the day to day, and to meet with Sigyn again, and to woo her. How sweet the revenge - his reveal of identity will be a grand prank, AND he'll have her. The harpy will be his, and finally he'll have things his way. As he should have already. Had she but accepted his offer, his GENEROUS offer, none of this would be needful.
Sigyn smiled as she walked through the garden to where her fiance waited before the Allfather. Their parents had arranged the marriage, Sigyn's beauty and slightly higher rank balanced by her fiance being a member of the Allfather's guard. Politically it was a good match, but at the beginning he had been almost indifferent to her. Boasting about her beauty, to be sure, but not spending time with her. These past few weeks that had all changed. He had actually listened to her, even when she talked of sorcery which most men disdained as a woman's art. He seemed pleased that she was interested in crafting new spells and researching magic, rather than just learning what had been handed down from her mother, promising that there would always be room for her books.
Sigyn allowed herself to forget Loki for a moment, forget her fear of the prince's possible revenge. Her fiance deserved her full attention, this was their moment. Before the All-father, their families, and other chosen guests they exchanged swords, Sigyn handing her father's sword to her groom, accepting his ancestor's sword in return. The blade was heavier than it looked… was it perhaps dwarven forged? They placed their rings on the sword hilts, offering them to each other on the hilts of their swords. Taking the ring from her husband, placing it on her hand as he placed her ring on his, the ritual was completed. They were wed.
Sigyn smiled up into her new husband's eyes and felt her heart seize. There was something wrong about his smile, something smug…
His eyes….
His eyes were now green….
Over the next few weeks Loki found himself drawn into the life of this woman, this impossible, beautiful and fascinating woman. Well, interesting, a little. Fascinating is far too strong a word for a woman he plans on crushing for her incredible temerity and lack of understanding of her place in the world. Yes. That's the plan.
He does enjoy a good puzzle, however and the woman knows her magic, thoroughly, not the rote recitations most girls barely manage. That's something. Bit by bit he started to genuinely enjoy her company, her mind, her cheek…but Loki is the God of Lies, and that applies to himself as well as others, he believed his whole plan to be one of vengeance.
It was desire for Vengeance that brought him to the altar, to stand before the Allfather, to exchange ancestral swords…he even went so far as to return to Jotunheim and dig up the sword of an /actual/ ancestor of his, because it was proper tradecraft, of course. And then they exchanged their vows, and the blades, and once the rings were placed and Allfather declared them wed, he grinned and allowed his eyes to change back.
Her look of dismay was a song, but…it jarred perhaps a little…and so blonde hair darkened in a wave, and his form bulked a bit, and his features returned to /his/. "And so, my bride, we must gather the witnesses and drink of the honeyed mead, and consummate this marriage before them, do you not think, Wife Sigyn?"
The Allfather was in a RAGE at the sight of Loki where his guardsman once stood.
Sigyn could feel the blood drain from her face as Loki revealed himself. "Your highness… May I ask what happened to the man I thought I was marrying?" She heard as if at a great distance Loki say that her fiancė was dead. The Allfather raged at the deception, that the marriage once done could not be undone, even by him. But he raged at Loki, not at her. And Loki stood before him unflinching, not trying to deflect the anger, accepting the blame.
Even though Sigyn knew it was her fault. Her rage, her insults had provoked this.
And STILL Loki took the scalding words seemingly unmoved… Though how could he not be? How could such words not hurt?
She drew up her courage. This was her fault. He would not face it alone. "Indeed, Husband Loki, let us proceed to the feast. I hope it will not disappoint you, we did not know we would be serving a Prince." She thought Loki's mask cracked then, just a little, that he was shocked that she had spoken up, had agreed with him. She kept her head high, desperately held on to her dignity during the hours that followed. And if Sigyn drank perhaps a little heavier of the mead than she would have otherwise, well, who could blame her? She smiled at her guests, teased her cousins whose expressions were more suited funeral than a wedding. She toasted her husband's parents with dignity, and even smiled at Loki.
Loki… these last few weeks, it had been Loki who had paid attention to her. Loki who had listened to her talk of sorcery, who had promised there would always be room for her books.
Loki was the one she had been falling in love with.
Some guests marvelled at her calm and dignity as Loki led her to the marriage bed, while others looked on with pity. Even Loki studied her as if he was not quite sure what he was seeing. Sigyn held on to the love she had felt in their long talks, and smiled warmly up at her husband.
She would make this marriage work. No matter what it took.