I Hate You
As Loki grew, so too did his feud with Sigyn begin to escalate. He had graduated from jump scares and hair pulling to throwing knives and illusions. When she wasn’t paying attention, he’d throw a knife to snap her out of whatever daydream she’d fallen into.
“What were you thinking?” he’d tease, though he was genuinely curious.
The first time, although she glared, she answered honestly. “I was actually watching your brother and his friends,” and Loki realized she hadn’t been staring into space at all. She had been staring out the window to where his brother was sparring with his own friends, Lady Sif and the warriors three.
If Loki had been anyone else he might have winced or shouted, but instead he laughed, “Of course you are.” Of course his brother would win her affection too. Everyone loved him. Loki was a side note, second place, an unpleasant shadow in the corner of the room. He watched her watch his brother and hated her all the more, “Got a crush?” he mocked, “My big strong brother caught your eye? How boring. Of course, everyone loves him. Why shouldn’t you? Frankly though, you and him, I don’t see it. Anyone else would have a better chance.”
Her face was bright red, “Well good!” She said, “I don’t like him anyways.”
“Yes you do,” Loki snapped, “Everyone thinks he’s so perfect. I know you do too.”
“You don’t know anything. Leave me alone.”
“As you wish.” He smirked, “I’ll leave you to your fantasies. Maybe I’ll tell him about you.”
“Don’t you dare!” she gasped.
He shrugged, still smiling, hands out to his sides as if to say ‘oops.’
“I hate you!” she whispered viciously and then slapped a hand to her mouth as though terrified at what she had said.
As she should be.
His smile dropped along with his hands, “I hate you too,” he replied coldly. He left her to her chores, icy rage spreading through his chest. She had some nerve hating him when he was supposed to hate her. And yet, satisfaction was present as well. He was worth her trouble now. How dare Thor be the reason for it. He flicked his wrist as he walked away and sent a knife out the open side of the passage. It thudded dead center into one of the targets near where Thor was playing in the courtyard below. Maybe Sigyn was watching. Gods, he hated her.
“What were you thinking?” He teased her this time. His knife was wedged next to her in the golden outer wall of the palace. They were outside in the very same courtyard, her back resting against the gold in one of the only shady spots.
“That the next time you throw one of your stupid knives at me, my Lord, I’m going to stab you with it,” she growled, glaring down at the pile of playing cards in front of her. She had been using them to build a card castle before his knife had startled her so bad the entire thing had collapsed from her flinch. She yanked the knife from the wall and tucked it into her skirts.
He laughed delightedly, “Would you like me to stop throwing knives at you?”
“I’d say yes if I didn’t know you’d just throw something worse.”
Loki extended his hands, palms up, “No, I’m asking honestly, no tricks.”
Sigyn scoffed, “You’re the God of tricks.”
That he was, and she had admitted it. He smiled mischievously, “I swear it. If you can beat me in a card game, I’ll stop throwing knives at you.”
She raised her eyebrows, “Alright, I’ll play with you.”
Though he would never admit it, that was all he had ever wanted. Loki sat on the ground across from her and swept a hand over the pile of beautifully painted cards. They were old and worn and had obviously belonged to someone before her. Someone who had seen fit to add their own doodles to each illustration. He placed the perfectly stacked deck in between them, “Would you like to shuffle?”
Sigyn accepted, watching him suspiciously the whole time she mixed up the cards, but Loki had no need of cheating for the moment. He already had what he needed.
“I’ll be the dealer first, shall I?” Loki grinned. He dealt them both two cards, one face up, one face down. As he did so he explained the rules. The goal was for your cards to add up to 21. The closest won, but going over disqualified you. “Best three out of five,” he challenged.
His face up card was a 9, hers was a 5, “What would you like to do?” he asked her.
She glanced at her face down card so that Loki could not see it, “Nothing. Stand.”
Loki revealed his face down card, a 5. He did not cheat this round. He would let her win just this once. It would give her a false sense of hope.
Sigyn turned over her second card. A king. She won by one point. She grinned at him, dark eyes sparkling triumphantly, “I win,” she said smugly.
“Not yet,” he replied, suppressing his own smile.
They shuffled the cards back into the deck. Sigyn dealt them both two cards. Her face up card was a 3, his was a jack with horns scratched onto the drawing.
“Hit.”
Her lips turned down in a skeptical frown, “if you’re sure.” she passed him a third card.
“Blackjack” he near whispered, flashing a smile at her to rub it in. His last two cards were a 1 and a 10.
She scowled, glancing down at her revealed 7, “three out of five,” she reminded him.
“I haven’t forgotten.” he let her win one last set before closing out the game with another perfect blackjack. Just to see her get her hopes up again. Just to see that cocky smile he loved to shatter.
“I win.”
“Yeah, I see that.” she snapped and began cleaning up the cards.
“You’ll need this,” Loki handed her the card he had slipped up his sleeve.
Her eyes widened in realization and then narrowed again in anger, “You’re a liar and a cheat, Loki.”
He grinned wider at the accusation. He was the God of them, “Always,” he promised, “Better luck next time.” he pulled another knife from his jacket and whipped it at her. It passed so close to her face that three locks of pretty dark hair fluttered to the ground.
“I hate you!” she spat, hands flying up to feel her hair.
“You better.”
“I don’t understand why I still even talk to you!”
“Because I’m the prince and you have to.” Loki pointed out, beginning to tire of her seriousness. He preferred her smug smiles, cold smiles, cruel smiles, exasperated smiles, as long as she was smiling.
She yanked his second knife out of the wall to tuck into her skirts, “I hate you.”
“Good.”