The stars stand up in the air,
The sun and moon are gone.
“What are you looking at?” a small voice asked, startling the younger prince of Asgard.
“The stars,” he responded without looking over at whatever child had snuck into his mother’s garden.
“Why are you looking out there, when there is everything down here to be seen?” Loki sighed and forced himself to sit up from where he was laying on the ground.
“You are Vanir, correct?” he finally sighed after several moments of simply staring at the young girl, hoping she would leave.
“Yes, I am Sigyn, and you are Loki,” she responded cheerfully.
“Alright, Sigyn,” Loki muttered the name with less mirth than he intended. “Sit down, and I’ll show you why I’m staring up at the stars and not around.” The little girl looked at the prince and promptly sat down and looked up at him as if she were waiting for the greatest story ever to be told. As if she expected him to tell it to her.
“So, what are you planning on showing me?” she asked him. Her eyes were large, round and as clear as the sea.
“Now,” Loki took her hand and helped her to point up to the stars. “That ‘star’, right there, is Vanaheimr…” Loki spent the nearly half the night explaining the various planets, stars, and other figures of the unlimited space out in front of them.
They fell asleep like that, talking their way through the infinite space, ending only with the story of the world tree, settled in the very depth of their reality.
The strand of its waters is bare.
And her sway is swept from the swan.
They had not seen each other in years, torn apart by circumstance and timing, so when Loki stumbled across the young women in his mother’s garden, he was stunned for a moment by her magic and the girl herself.
She was taller than most of the girls her age, perhaps just a bit taller than Loki himself. Her hair was pulled back into a soft braid which reached down her back, except for when she moved or spun, and it seemed to follow behind her as her magic swirled from her fingertips into intricate patterns and swirls.
“Oh!” she gasped, falling back just a bit, startled by Loki’s presence. “Oh, I… I’ll leave,” she offered quickly.
“No, uh.” For once in his life, he was not looking at the Vanir girl before him as a child, a nuisance to be entertained until she and her family went back to their own realm. “It is fine, I… I am very sorry for interrupting you, Lady Sigyn.” He nodded towards her before attempting to retreat, only being stopped by a hand in his, pulling him back towards the area she had been practicing in.
“Just… just Sigyn, Prince Loki, and please, this is your mother’s garden, you must stay,” she insisted, reaching up to tuck away a stand of her hair which had fallen from her braids.
“Then you must simply call me Loki,” he told her, taking a step closer to her.
“Then, perhaps you could show me what magic it is that your mother has taught you, I’d love to see it.” She pulled him deeper into the garden, where they both took turns with their magic.
The cuckoo was calling all day,
Hid in the branches above.
The annual ball of Asgard was… boring. Well, if you were not the first son of Odin. Thor was the center of attention, as per usual. Well, at least in Loki’s mind. But Loki - his mind was somewhere else. On someone else.
He had watched Sigyn since she had entered with the vanir party. She was dressed head to toe in a beautiful golden gown, the same color as her hair, which was pinned up so harshly it almost looked like it was paining her. Or maybe that was just Freya picking at her dress, pushing her shoulders so that Sigyn would stand straighter. Sigyn glanced over her shoulder, as if looking for any other place to be other than with her family.
“May I have this dance, Lady Sigyn?” He took her hand and led her easily away from her family before they could even mutter a protest. And what protest could they give? Thor’s attention was solely on the Lady Sif, and Odin’s second son was asking their daughter for a dance. They could never have disrespected the Allfather’s family, especially not in that way.
“Of course, Prince Loki,” she giggled under her breath as she took her position in front of him to begin the dance. “Thank you, by the way, for the rescue.”
“It is the job of a prince,” he laughed, “rescuing fair damsels, not that you are in any way a damsel.” He settled his hands onto her hips as they swayed along on the dance floor.
“I’ll admit, I need help sometimes,” she laughed with him. “But I think I can rescue us both from this nightmare,” she said with a wink, and, with a shimmer, suddenly there was a second pair of dancers, mimicking their dance to perfection as Sigyn and Loki snuck out of the hall and out into the gardens, Sigyn slowly pulling at the pins and releasing her hair to flow down her back.
“Such a clever trick, dear Sigyn, someone has paid great attention to her lessons after all!” Loki was laughing with abandon now. And then suddenly, Sigyn stole a kiss.
“I…” she startled, pulling back as soon as she realized what she was doing. “Sorry,” she rushed out, preparing to flee.
“No,” Loki said hurriedly, the words escaping his lips before he even had registered what was going on. And, then, well, it was his turn to steal a kiss.
But was it really stealing a kiss, if both of them returned the affection with an open heart?
How my stóirín is fled away,
‘Tis my grief that I gave her my love.
“Loki?” Frigga asked as she entered his chambers, coming to sit on the edge of his bed.
“Mother.” Loki was lying in his bed like a child, having refused to take leave of his chambers for weeks, ever since Odin had announced that a marriage match had been struck for Thor. A marriage match involving Sigyn.
“Are you upset that your brother is marrying first?” He lifted his head up and leveled a stare at her which could have thawed out Jotunheimr to its core.
“Loki, I may possess magic, but I do not read minds,” she reminded him as she reached out to smooth back the hair which had fallen into his eyes. He pulled away from his mother and moved back to press his face back into his bed.
“Iths Sigmmm,” he groaned into the pillows adorning his bed.
“Loki,” his mother started again, a gentle hand now rubbing his back.
“It is Sigyn,” he sighed in exasperation as he rolled over to stare at his ceiling. “And besides, Thor has been obsessed with Sif for ages, why is Father forcing him to marry Sigyn?”
“Because that is a political marriage,” she reminded him. “And what, exactly, would you dare to do about it, Loki, trickster dear?”
Three things by love I see -
Sorrow and sin and death -
“No, Loki,” Sif hissed as she pulled back away from the trickster god. “Are you insane? You’ll end up getting us both killed with that plan, it is treasonous!” They were back in the garden. Autumn, however, had come in full force, and the garden seemed bleak. The garden was dying.
“Sif,” he tried again. He had been out here trying to convince Sif of the plan for days. “Do you honestly-” She cut him off with a wave of her hand, a flip of her hair, and a sword suddenly pressed to his neck.
“It does not matter what I think, Loki, nor does it matter what you want or think we should do. This is the will of the Allfather. The will of Asgard.”
“Are we doing this or not?” asked Sigyn in a hushed whisper as she appeared in the garden, hiding from fretting family and unwanted wedding preparations. She moved to stand next to Loki and thankfully helped to push Sif’s sword from so close to Loki’s neck.
“It is to be your wedding,” Sif practically yelled in frustration, throwing her arms in the air, all the while looking like she wanted to just stab both Loki and Sigyn.
“Yes, but Sif, if this works,” Sigyn began, grabbing onto Sif’s arms and pulling them down. “It won’t be my wedding, it’ll be yours.”
Sif was definitely contemplating stabbing them both, but she sheathed her sword anyway.
And my mind reminding me
That this doom I breathe with my breath.
“I can’t believe that worked,” Sigyn breathed against Loki’s neck in a near giggle. “How did we even pull that off?” she whispered fiercely as they danced, not at Sigyn’s wedding feast, but Sif’s.
“You, my love, are not the one who Odin is glaring absolute daggers at,” he reminded her with a kiss on the forehead.
“Am I not? This could very well cost Asgard the treaty with Vanaheimr,” she reminded him sternly.
“It will not,” he stated simply, watching as his mother came to sit beside his father. As she whispered into his ear, his face went from stern to a more relaxed glare as his eyes, both normal and far seeing, tracked Loki and Sigyn across the dance floor.
“And how are you so certain of this?” she asked him, a breathless whisper in his ear as he directed them away from the gaze of Odin and back out of the hall to eventually lead them into the part of the garden where they had first met.
“Because you, my dear, my darling, my love, only have one other choice if you would care to keep the treaty as it stands, and it is to marry a prince of Asgard,” he reminded her with a smirk. “I’ve checked the wording a thousand times,”
“Loki,” she laughed with a smile, moving to sit on the bench closest to them.
“I’m quite and very serious, Sigyn,” he told her, coming to stand behind her as she felt a new weight settle around her neck.
“Loki,” she breathed out, this time with a serious tone they only ever reserved for when they were plotting or arguing.
“You who are more brilliant, more beautiful than the stars where they stand, would you dare stand next to me, for the rest of our eternity?” When she looked down, she saw the emerald sitting at the base of her throat. It should have felt like a heavy weight on her chest, but it was as light as air, as if it had always been a part of her.
“Yes,” she told him with a kiss that left him breathless and feeling as if he was higher than even the king of Asgard.
But sweeter than violin or lute
Is my love – and she left me behind.
Loki’s ears were ringing.
His ears were ringing, and he felt as if he was going to be sick. He had felt this way for hours.
She’d been sick. Ill. For weeks, always claiming to be fine until she suddenly collapsed. And now? Now, she had been unconscious for days, and no one would let him anywhere near her. They said she was resting. That she needed peace, not a fretting husband worrying right next to her. Even his magic had been lashing out.
Because Sigyn. Sigyn was too still. Too pale. Everything she wasn’t. Lifeless.
And Loki - he was alone.
Except he wasn’t. There were two little boys struggling for their lives, along with their mother, just on the other side of the door. And he was, perhaps, the last person in all the realms they would let through those doors to be with his family. With his wife. With his sons.
“Loki,” his mother started as she cracked open the doors. “Quickly, my son, quickly.” She motioned for him to follow her into the room, and Loki was not going to argue.
“Mother-” he began, but she was quick to silence him.
“Do not thank me, Loki,” she told him, pulling him into an embrace before turning him around and pointing him towards a figure on the bed that was so still. Too still. “I’m sorry, you’ve not got long, my son.” Tears were rolling down her cheeks now as Loki pushed away from his mother’s side and fell to the bedside of his wife.
“Sigyn,” he whispered softly, stroking at her face with his fingertips.
“Did you see the boys,” she mumbled softly, her eyes glassy and unfocused. “They are so beautiful, Loki…” She made a soft sound and shifted in the bed.
“Sigyn, yes, I saw them,” Loki whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead, the lie coming easily.
“What are you looking at?” she asked him in a small voice, her eyes drifting to a close.
“Just the most lovely star to come down to Asgard,” he told her, giving her another kiss, then another. “I love you, Sigyn,” he told her. He refused to move when his mother came to pull him away from her body nearly an hour later.
I wish that all music were mute,
And I to all beauty were blind.
He walked in silence back to his chambers.
The moment he entered, his magic unleashed itself and, for the first time in years, since he had shown Sigyn the stars when they were children, Loki’s magic was unbound and untouchable.
He’d forgotten the rage and power and how it felt when he was unbalanced. When Sigyn’s magic was not there to counter his own.
“Brother.” Thor knocked at the door. Loki’s magic flowed around him like a snake coiled to strike.
“Leave me be, Thor,” Loki whispered. He had intended for the words to leave his mouth like the snake his magic was mimicking, but his emotions had taken their toll. While the part of him which controlled his magic was angry, his heart was aching with the loss of his wife, the grief fresh.
The knife which seemed lodged in his chest turned with every fresh reminder. Her dress laid upon the desk, the stack of books on her side of the bed, the scent of her favorite perfume every time he would walk in front of the mirror; it just kept reminding him of all that he had lost, all that he would never get back.
“I am unsure what to say, Loki,” Thor admitted. Thor was better at wreaking havoc than dealing with it. “Please, let me come in, Mother is very worried and-”
“No, stay out of here!” Loki screamed in frustration.
“Loki-”
“No, you don’t understand, Thor. This was my fault.”
She’s more shapely than swan by the stand,
She’s more radiant then grass after dew.
“Hello, Father,” his daughter, Hel, greeted him at the edge of Helheim. He did not even say anything to her. The guilt was eating at him.
“Hel-” he began, but she shook her head at him.
“She’s with the lost children,” she told him swiftly before disappearing from view.
“Thank you, Hel,” he whispered as he stepped through the portal to the grove of children too young to have gone to Valhalla, but too pure for the harsher parts of Helheim.
It did not take long for him to spot her. She was just as he remembered. Just like all of their moments in the garden. Her hair, as brilliant as gold, pulled away from her face and hanging down her back. She shone in the light of Helheim, surrounded by the children who never managed to live their own lives.
While, back in Asgard, he and Sigyn had two small boys he had ignored for the dead.
He left without saying a word. But making a promise to his wife none the less.
She’s more fair than the stars where they stand-
‘Tis my grief that her ever I knew!
It was years later, and the Lokasons, Narfi and Vali, were running through the hall of Odin as Sif and Thor prepared to hold a feast in honor of their newborn son, Magni.
“Boys,” Loki called, holding a hand out for each of his sons.
“I wish Sigyn were here,” Sif sighed as she juggled Magni in her arms.
“She is, Sif,” Loki said with a smile as he lifted Vali up onto his hip and pulled Narfi into a close hug. He looked past the doors of the great hall and into the garden. “She’s here with all of us.”