Teeth
Loki had exactly what he needed for his trick. His best one yet. He had been practicing his illusions for weeks now and studying the person he planned to replicate. It needed to be perfect or it wouldn’t work. It would be impressive if he pulled it off, though he doubted Sigyn would appreciate his brilliance. His mother would if he didn’t get in trouble, and probably even if he did.
It was quite possible that he had followed Sigyn and her mother into town. He knew the rules she was forced to live by and he knew she’d be punished for breaking them. That much was clear in the way her mother talked about them. Be respectful to the princes, don’t let anyone know she has magic. He knew she had magic, and lately she hadn’t been very kind.
“So, you have magic,” he began, leaning against a column to her right. They were in his mother’s sitting room again. Sigyn sat reading at the edge where the open balcony began. Her back rested against one of the other columns that made up the fourth wall. He wasn’t sure why she didn’t take the couch, it would surely be more comfortable. Or at least the carpet.
“You’ve known this for years.” Her face was guarded as she looked up from her book.
“Yes, but I just started wondering, why aren’t you off somewhere learning how to use it?”
“Because I’d rather be here.” she replied
“Would you? One word from me and I could have you shipped off to the nearest magic school. I would like that. I’d never have to see you again.” He smiled pleasantly at the thought.
She snapped her book closed, “Don’t you dare tell anyone!” she snarled. It was funny really, how panicked she looked. No one was supposed to know. How old had she been when her mother had started that conditioning?
“Why not? Moth-” he didn’t get to finish his sentence as Sigyn sprang up and clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Shut up!” she hissed, “You are a horrible person! I-”
“Sigyn!”
The girl whipped her hand away from Loki’s face and jumped back, expression going from angry to fearful in a fraction of a second. She whirled around, eyes wide to face her mother in the doorway to the Queen’s chambers. “Mama I-” she cut herself off as the form of her mother dissolved into green and gold light. She stood blinking for a second at the empty space. Loki laughed.
She turned slowly back around to face him, fury etched into every line of her face. He attempted a grin, recognizing that maybe he had gone too far. It had been hilarious, and the illusion had been perfect, but she clearly didn’t care about impressive feats of magic. As predicted.
“I told you to watch your back,” he reminded her, “It’s a skill you should work on.”
“You are a horrible person,” she repeated.
He rolled his eyes at the prick of guilt which quickly turned to irritation, “Well I don’t like you much, remember?” he winked at her. He let one of his knives materialize in his hand. He began spinning it, enjoying the slight flinch it caused in Sigyn. He spun knives whenever he was bored or nervous. It gave him a sense of control. Not that he needed it, as he was in control.
“How could I forget?” she spat, “I hope someone punches you the way you deserve.”
“Why don’t you do it?” he baited, yanking a piece of hair hard enough that she cried out.
She had a hand pressed to her scalp as she said, “You’re not worth getting my hands dirty.” He had told her that. She was reusing his own words, he knew that. He knew she had no idea what she was talking about, but the insult still hurt. He wasn’t worth being friends with. He wasn’t worth the same trouble as Thor. He was second best in all aspects of his life. He wasn’t even worth her hatred.
He glared at her, the sting of her insult feeding his anger, and spat the first thing that came to mind, “Are you just trying to make an excuse because you know you’d get your hands cut off if you were caught?”
“They wouldn’t cut my hands off!” she argued, though she didn’t seem sure.
He stopped spinning the blade and pressed it to her wrist in one short motion, her fingers held firmly in his other hand, “Yes they would. They might even let me do it.”
“Let go of me!” she ordered.
He smiled coldly at her, “As you wish.” He released her fingers and let the knife dissolve again. She watched the magic with something like wonder even amidst her anger at him. His ego healed a bit. She was impressed with his magic tricks. Or maybe just his knives since he often caught her looking at him when he twirled one. Either way, he had something that she was jealous of, something she liked and couldn’t have because she refused to be his friend.
“Why can’t you leave me alone?” she asked bitterly.
“Where’s the fun in that?”