"Go and Be Free"
Inspiration: "Do What You Gotta Do" by Roberta Flack
Loki x Sigyn
“My darling and wife,” he said to her as he led her around the floor in a dizzying whirl, her pristine white gown creating a blurred vortex as she spun, “I regret to inform you that I must leave in the morning.”
Lady Sigyn sighed, half in woe and half in exasperation. “Midgard again, I presume?”
Loki nodded. “My employer awaits contact from there. Our plans will be coming to fruition soon.”
Admittedly, Sigyn felt a twinge of disappointment. She knew her husband had no intention for a long, drawn-out honeymoon, especially not when some glorious purpose awaited him just beyond the horizon. However, she knew what she was signing up for when she accepted Loki’s ring on her finger. She knew her dreams of domesticity, a houseful of fat children, and a long life in the countryside was never on the table.
Yet, she married him anyway.
Theirs was certainly an odd pairing. After all, upon reaching the age to claim her domain from Asgard as a goddess, she’d chosen fidelity and victory, and since when did ‘fidelity’ mix well with Loki’s own ‘mischief’?
All of Asgardian Society questioned when Loki officially named Sigyn his intended bride, wondering if Sigyn would be more suited to the knight-like Thor. Indeed, matching with the elder brother would have made much more sense. Thor’s personal code of honor was well-defined, and he would be infinitely more satisfying of a provider and father to her children than Loki, Lord of Chaos and Uncertainty, ever would (or so the nobles murmured when they thought she was out of earshot).
Somehow, their courtship proved the naysayers very, very wrong. Sigyn knew the moment she touched Loki’s hand that he needed her, and she needed him. No matter how far he strayed, Sigyn knew Loki wasn’t what the others warned her about.
“I know what they think of me, of us,” Loki said as he drew her body close to his. Her light, gossamer wedding gown was so thin that she could almost feel his heavy leather against her skin. “That I’m going off to have affairs.”
“How dare they think so lowly?” Sigyn replied. “Do you not have the power to silence them?”
Loki shook his head. “Only the opinion of one matters to me.”
Sigyn blushed as Loki took a hand and caressed her face tenderly. A single tear escaped from her eye, and Loki brushed it away with his thumb.
“Oh love, do not cry. Not at our nuptial feast,” he said quietly.
“I know you do this for our future,” the new bride answered. “I know the only mistress awaiting you on Midgard is that secret employer of yours, with promises not of carnal manner, but of glorious victory, which brings you as much pleasure as a lover ever could.”
Loki smiled and nodded. “You know my entire soul, in spite of what they say.”
“And yet…I fear much,” she responded. “There’s always the chance you will never return. I don’t want to be a widow before I am a true wife and mother.”
The husband drew the bride’s gaze to meet his own by slipping a finger under her chin and raising her head. “Now hear me…I will always come home to you. And when my Glorious Purpose is completed on Midgard, we will make a Valhalla on Asgard, all our own. And I will fill you with my children over and over, until we can’t stand how many we have, and we will find our happy ending together.”
“I know, my love and light,” Sigyn answered, still feeling the tears come. “We will prove everyone wrong when you come home to me.”
“Now,” Loki proposed, “Darling, I grow tired of these revelries. What do you say we adjourn to our chambers and consummate our marriage before the dawn draws me away and towards my destiny?”
Sigyn, wife of Loki, watched her groom fly away, off into the Bifrost before she was a bride for 18 hours.
“He needs this,” she said to herself. “He must do what he needs to do. After then, he will give it all to me, and at last, we will be whole.”