Chapter 9
Her body must have come to terms with what had transpired lot faster than her consciousness had, for already the effects of adrenaline, which had been helping keep the pain at bay at the prospect of imminent danger, was beginning to wear off, even though the maiden remained at an utter loss as to what had happened to her or where she was. An aching, helpless heap on the ground, she struggled to breathe through her pain and get her bearings so she could at least ensure there were no other threats surrounding her. That task, however, proved to be futile, since keeping her eyes open for longer than a split second became an impossible feat, be that because of the throbbing wound on her side, the significant blood-loss she had and was still experiencing, the bright sunlight contrasting with the gloomy space from which she had recently escaped, or all of the above.
She thought she recognized the cold surface underneath her hands, which she dared guess was marble, just like she believed she had been able to recognize her location from the few glimpses she managed to snap each time she opened her eyes for just a moment, but she soon realized that was but a feverish delusion —or it must have been— for the place in which she wanted to believe she was no longer existed.
It took her a moment, for her senses were indeed overwhelmed and thus functioning a lot less efficiently than normal, to remember that the TemPad's main purpose was not to travel through space but through time, and so Loki could have very well ensured he had selected a when in which this particular where still stood. As heroic as Loki's intentions had been, Sigyn was once again certain that rather than save her life, he had merely postponed her death, like he had done when accidentally teleporting them to Lamentis. Now, assuming he had sent her to the timeline he himself was from and from which she had been eliminated, rather than die as a variant at the hands of the TVA, she would instead die —or else be imprisoned— an intruder at the hands of the Einherjar. That was, of course, as long as she had been correct in assuming she was indeed in Asgard, for she hadn't discarded the possibility that what she saw around her was nothing but a blood-loss-induced mirage, or perhaps one last memory flashing past her eyes before she eventually succumbed and drew her last breath.
The last thing she remembered was the sound of the doors opening and at that point, so faint was her grasp on consciousness that Sigyn simply surrendered, collapsing on her back. Watching the image of the ceiling above her grow darker and blurrier each time her lashes fluttered, she thought she had seen the Queen of Asgard leaning over her and the last thought she formulated was how thoroughly convinced she was now that she was actually dying.
Sigyn awoke with a start.
From her perspective, she had closed her eyes only for a second before she heard someone —no one in particular, an unidentified voice— calling her name very urgently and very clearly, causing her to open them again. Nevertheless she soon realized that voice calling on her had been but a figment of her subconscious and that she had most definitely had her eyes closed for longer than the instant it had felt, for suddenly she was no longer lying on the marble floor but on a bed.
Glancing down at herself, moving slowly for she had awakened to a rather nasty headache, she saw herself dressed in attire similar to the one she had worn her entire life and no longer the lifeless pant suit —by then torn, dirty and blood-stained— she had been wearing upon her arrival. Placing a gentle hand on her side, she noticed as well that her wound had been properly treated. While far from completely recuperated, she was at least well enough to look around herself once and for all, confirming that what she thought she had seen was in fact not a memory or a delusion— it was the time and place she knew Loki would have considered the safest, although the when and where had little to do with anything other than coinciding with where she would be found but the who the God of Mischief must have meant to send her to in the first place, a person he knew would be able —and most importantly willing— to help her.
"You incorrigible, lovable fool," she whispered to herself, momentarily suspending the distinction between him and the Loki she'd known, for that decision in particular so happened to characterize them both.
"I assume it's not me you're addressing," said Frigga as she stepped into view, offering the visitor a gentle smile and a whimsically curved eyebrow.
Sigyn was startled, not only because she had up until that moment believed she was alone, but because of the person addressing her. Even though she had already deciphered not a moment ago who it was that had found and assisted her, the maiden had been far from prepared to see her in the flesh once again.
"Your Majesty…"
"No need to get up on my account," the Queen reassured her, holding up a hand in order to dissuade her from standing up, which she seemed to have been on the verge of doing. "There's little energy in you as it is, and I'm sure we can both agree that it would be better invested in explaining yourself. So... on your own time, how about you start by telling me your name?"
"I…"
A sudden fear struck her, cutting her off before she could utter her own name, as she paused to gather her thoughts regarding everything that just happened. She realized all of a sudden that she hadn't the faintest idea what had happened back at the TVA from the moment Loki had gotten her out of there, nor did she have any means through which she could look into it. Having absolutely nothing to go on in order to infer any outcomes —Renslayer was outnumbered, yes, but who was to say more Minutemen hadn't shown up to her rescue?— it dawned on Sigyn that she couldn't even know for sure if Loki, Sylvie, or both had even survived.
Already worried regarding the destiny of the other two prisoners, she worried even further as she went on to think about causing a nexus event at this new timeline where she assumed she had no place —judging from the fact that Frigga had failed to recognize her— which could immediately alert the TVA as to her whereabouts.
Once again, however, Sigyn found herself cornered by a difficult decision without any alternatives to which to turn. Or at least, any alternatives that she would prefer; she could have lied, she could have said any other name besides her own, she could have kept her head down and continued to exist on that time, back in Asgard, back home, and hope the TVA never tracked her down. Nevertheless, after all of her latest misadventures, the thought of spending a single day actively escaping any more danger sounded utterly exhausting.
"Sigyn," she therefore replied sincerely, by that point perfectly ready to run towards a Time Stick and prune herself should any Minutemen come knocking.
If Frigga actually recognized her name, she had hid it exceedingly well. The maiden suspected, therefore, that she in fact hadn't.
"And you are Asgardian," guessed the Queen which confirmed Sigyn's assumption that she indeed had no place in that timeline.
"Yes."
"How did you come into the palace unseen, why are you here?"
"Oh, no, your Majesty, I didn't mean to trespass, I was... well, sent here, sort to speak, I'd nothing to do with it."
Although she appeared to have believed her —after all, the sheer panic in Sigyn's demeanor must have come through as sincere—, the witch remained understandably puzzled and was therefore compelled to ask even more questions.
"How?"
"The person who brought me here, he's got… magic abilities." Technically speaking, it was not exactly a lie.
"Why would he send you here?"
"He's... Asgardian as well. We were in battle, I was wounded, I reckon he figured I'd be safe here."
"So you're here seeking asylum," assumed the monarch, trying to make some sense out of all that information just as effortfully as Sigyn was trying to explain herself.
"Actually, your Majesty, I wouldn't mind going back where I came from," replied the maiden, trusting that the Queen would be keen to help her achieve that goal since the fact that she was so eager to leave Asgard in the first place only evidenced that she was not its enemy.
"Which is where, exactly?"
"I... honestly couldn't tell you."
"You don't know whence you came...?"
"Oh, I do. I just... couldn't tell you. That is to say, I don't think I'd be able to explain it if I tried."
"You said someone else sent you here, who?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, ma'am," Sigyn replied apologetically, exhaling a faint, embarrassed chuckle out of sheer nervousness.
"I see."
The Queen had only extracted disappointingly little information from her, but already she could tell there was not much else she would get out of the injured creature even if she insisted. At least for now, it was safe to assume Sigyn did indeed mean no harm and, by the looks of it, trespassing had been her only crime.
"Could the person who sent you here also bring you back?"
"I reckon he could, your Majesty, but I have no means to get in touch with him."
"Well, could we t—?"
A voice coming from the other side of the door made them both jerk their heads towards it.
"Mother?"
The voice was so distant it was barely perceivable, Sigyn had recognized it immediately, for it was simultaneously the first and last she'd want to hear at the moment.
"Your Majesty," she urged her in a hushed voice. "I realize I've given you no real reason to trust me but... I'd much rather he didn't know I was here."
"You know my son?"
"And I'd much, much rather he didn't see me, ma'am," the maiden insisted most pleadingly.
From the moment the had met, Sigyn thought to herself, her life unravelled into a series of misfortunes. First, they had met and known each other, which already brought about its own hard-to-surmount obstacles. Then, after a turbulent last half of her marriage, she had been left a widow, and even then, even when she had supposedly lost all tether to her husband given that he was, well, deceased, she was still extracted and eliminated from existence, and all she knew about the reason why was that it had something to do with him. Far from having learnt her lesson, and despite the warnings of a friend, she had insisted on approaching an alternate version of him, looking for something without knowing for certain what that something was in the first place, and now there she was, once more very deservedly suffering the consequences of her own actions. All of a sudden, Sigyn had come to a most resentful conclusion: That she seemed to only exist in terms of Loki and Loki alone. The one she'd known, the one she knew now, those to be known by her in the future— it felt as though she lived to bounce between them, spending whatever little time she was without one simply waiting for the next one.
"You'll be all right, dear," Frigga reassured her as she rose to her feet, waving a graceful hand that caused a golden glow to glimmer in front of her for a moment before it dissipated.
Loki appeared at the threshold of her chambers, calling for her a second time.
"Yes, darling." The young man's only response was the expectant rising of his eyebrows. "Oh," exclaimed the Queen in sudden realization. "You're off already, of course. You weren't waiting on me, I hope..."
"No, Father and I are still waiting on Thor—" He narrowed his eyes with faint suspicion, caught a little by surprise by his mother's demeanor. "Is something the matter?"
"No, of course not. I dozed off while I was reading, is all, and I've only just come to, I suppose I'm still rather loopy."
Whatever spell or illusion Frigga had concocted must have worked, for even though Loki looked over Frigga's shoulder and straight into Sigyn's eyes, there was no reaction on his part, like there normally wouldn't have been when someone had seen nothing out of the ordinary.
"Tell your Father I'll soon be there to see you off, I won't be long."
As she spoke, the Queen had stepped towards him in order to smooth his emerald cape over his shoulders and, while he rolled his eyes in the process, he stayed still and allowed it.
"Look after your brother, won't you? Make sure his temper doesn't get the best of him."
"I believe I'll be too busy making sure his temper doesn't get the best of me."
Frigga scolded him with her eyes to make up for the fact that she had granted him an amused smile for she didn't want to encourage that rivalrous behavior.
"Try, also, to stay out of trouble yourself."
"Oh, I'd promise I will, but I couldn't bear lying to you, Mother," he replied at last with a mischievous half-smile as he turned to walk away.
Needing no further context than the interaction she had just witnessed —for the first time, mind you—, Sigyn already knew exactly when in that alternate timeline she had been sent and what's more, she knew which journey it was that the All Father and his two sons were about to embark on together. Just as she was trying to keep every last version of the youngest son as furthest away from her for as long as possible, she wished there was a way she could rid herself of the memories as well, if only momentarily.
"Have you an actual plan in mind or are we just improvising in the hopes you'll barely make it out alive like last time?" she teased as she watched the God of Mischief readying his horse.
He exhaled a soft chuckle. "Perhaps the knowledge that I'll have a worried, devoted maiden waiting for me, ready to nurse me back to health should any harm come to me will be enough to get me through any form of peril."
"So you are planning on getting harmed again," she summarized before sipping from a glass of mulled wine.
"No comment against you being my worried, devoted maiden ready to nurse me back to health I see," he replied, pretending to be speaking mostly to himself as he finished adjusting his horse's saddle.
"Oh, I've never said that."
"And yet here you are to see me off."
"See you off?" she scoffed, perhaps with overcompensating derision which rather than fortify her position of contempt, it made her true intentions all the more transparent. "As I recall, it was you who approached me, I was merely enjoying a day of leisure in the outdoors…"
"Naturally, and what better place to do it than the very border of the realm?" commented the Prince as he mockingly nodded his head in false comprehension.
"If you were as skillful in battle as you are with your infamous Silver Tongue, perhaps you'd stand a chance at survival after all."
Despite being seated at a certain distance from him, and even though he had turned his back to her, Sigyn was still able to see his jaw slightly tensing, proof that she had indeed got on his nerves, always in the juvenile, sneering manner that characterized their entire relationship. Pleased with herself, she smiled around the rim of her goblet triumphantly as she finished what was left of her spiced wine.
Loki then turned his head to look at her, visibly curious and on the verge of posing a question. Sigyn lifted her eyebrows as an invitation to proceed.
"What are you to do with yourself the next few days?" he wondered.
"Meaning?"
"Without me."
Her smile began to fade, just as one began to form on Loki's lips now that he seemed to have successfully returned her jiving.
"You really must think I hold you in much higher a regard than I do in reality," she commented with an arched eyebrow.
"So you deny there is a massive void left in your existence when I'm not around?"
She stared in silence, still unamused. Loki, on the other hand was mirthful; he raised his eyebrows, expecting a retort.
"Should I take your silence as confirmation or have I at last rendered you speechless?"
"I was merely waiting until I've wrapped my head around such massive idiocy. It will be a while, you see, it was substantially massive indeed—"
Their playful exchange was put to rest abruptly as the All Father suddenly approached them. After having jumped to her feet in order to properly bow before her king, Sigyn made herself scarce.
"Fetch Thor," commanded Odin and after responding with a firm bow of his head, he rushed to comply.
The God of Thunder had overslept, which was not unlike him, and since he hadn't bothered rushing to make up for his tardiness, he still needed a while until he had finished readying himself for the journey. Loki walked away from his chambers with a sigh, already foreshadowing that he would be the one to face the consequences for his brother's irresponsibility once he had repeated the boastful prince's brute response to the King of Asgard.
Behind a curtain, just around the corner of that vestibule, Sigyn stood in concealment, toying nervously with her own fingers and awaiting for the sound of approaching footsteps. When she finally heard them, she acted swiftly, pulling by the Prince's armor and forcing him to join her in that secluded corner.
She wanted to believe she had taken him by surprise when she immediately leaned up to press her lips upon his, yet the readiness and enthusiasm with which the God of Mischief returned the kiss had her suspecting he had in fact seen it coming, which infuriated her even more.
"Don't you dare die," she commanded in all seriousness. When Loki smiled and tried to kiss her again, she pressed two fingers to his lips to stop him. "If you do, I'll find a way to bring you back and kill you myself."
"I believe you," the Prince replied, still smiling. Sigyn grabbed him by the chin so she could kiss him a second time. When she pulled away to look him in the eye one more time, she noticed some of her wine that must have still been on her lips had tainted his and she wiped it off with her thumb.
"Hmm," she pondered in a whisper. "What are you to do with yourself the next few days without me?" she cited him.
And after having landed one last, feather-light kiss to his lips, she walked away.