Stab Me
Idunn was gone. Back to her estate with her parents to continue living their happily ever after. Maybe some people did get happy endings, even if she had left in tears. Sigyn missed her. It had been nice having a friend, but now things were back to normal- almost. Loki didn’t hate her anymore, at least not the same way. He never played tricks or teased her. Instead he ignored her. Whenever she passed him in the halls these days he maybe threw a single venomous look, but there was no other acknowledgement. It was slowly pushing her towards insanity. He opened up a crack during an argument, and suddenly they couldn’t even be proper enemies. He couldn’t even tell her he hated her?
She wasn’t the only one who knew something was up.
“What’s going on with Loki?” Prince Thor asked her one day, managing to corner her on her way home. He carried his hammer around with him everywhere and it made Sigyn want to hit him sometimes. For some inexplicable reason.
“I don’t know!” Sigyn burst out. All of her emotions on the subject had been pint up with no outlet. Loki was normally her outlet, but he hadn’t exactly been available. “He had a fight with Idunn and then we fought, or at least I think it was a fight. It doesn’t matter. All I know is that he’s been ignoring me and it’s driving me crazy!”
Thor frowned. “I thought you hated each other.”
“We do!” she yanked her own hair in frustration. “But it’s an active participation type of mutual hate and he is not participating! Tell him to stop moping and stab me or something!”
He chuckled. “Trust me, you do not wish for my brother to stab you.”
“Just talk to him?” Sigyn pleaded, leaning against the wall.
The golden prince sighed, “I’ll try. He’s not very open with me either. Sometimes I think you know him better than I do.” he tossed his hammer up and caught it again. It reminded Sigyn of how Loki fidgeted with his knives.
She shook her head. “I only know his bad side.”
“Do you care about him?” Thor asked her, eyes focused on his hammer.
Sigyn stared at him, incredulous and uncomprehending. “I literally hate him.”
“You both say that. Sometimes I don’t think it’s true.”
Sigyn pushed away from the wall and made strong, challenging eye contact.“Are you offended that you’ve finally found someone who won’t fall to your feet just so that you’d spit on them? I hate your brother, I just happen to be indifferent towards you.”
Thor turned to her and Sigyn considered the possibility that maybe she had made a mistake, but all he said was “I’ll talk to him.”
She curtsied, “Thank you, your Highness.” She was left to continue home, her nerves still buzzing from the brief panic.
Sigyn found her stories in the pages of books now that her mother had stopped telling them. She had a small shelf in her room stocked with a few books. They were expensive so she only had five, and each one had been well loved and read to the point of memorization. Stories of immortal elves and their mortal lovers, pirates and mermaids, princesses and peasants. She had a bit of a theme going on. Forbidden romance and usually a bit of an enemies to lovers arc. She even had one that was incredibly hard to find, and banned from most bookstores, about an Asgardian and a Frost-giant. It was her favorite if she was honest, and if she was being completely transparent, it might have had something to do with the sex scenes. She was glad her mother never read her books.
Some people weren’t so considerate.
“I heard you missed me,” a cold voice dragged her from the story, it was just getting good too.
“I could have gone a little longer,” she sighed, closing the book. She and Idunn had sort of claimed the garden as their own during her stay and now Sigyn sat there alone. Except for the prince standing before her. She studied him. He wore the usual green and black leather with gold accents. His hair was cleanly slicked back. He looked the same and yet colder, more distant. His eyes were guarded and his smirk didn’t reach them. She frowned.
“Most women like the way I look,” he teased, “Even if they don’t like me.”
Sigyn rolled her eyes, “Most women will take anything cold and impersonal, as long as it’s shiny.”
Loki’s eyes glittered with suppressed humor. He stepped closer and snatched her book.
Sigyn cried out in protest and panic, reaching for it. Something told her he wouldn’t turn her in for reading an illegal book, but that didn’t mean she wanted him seeing it.
“Frost. This one is new.” He said, “Have you expanded your collection?” He flipped it open to a random page and Sigyn waited in anticipation, praying it wasn’t a filthy scene.
He looked up from the book, face unreadable, “How your taste has changed,” he passed it back. Sigyn looked down at the words and felt her face go red. It was a very filthy scene. One in which they may have been using chains and icicles.
“I take what I can get,” she answered.
“Is that why you tolerate me?”
She sighed, “Loki-”
He stopped her there, cutting in with a tone of bitter ice, “Don’t. Don’t lie to me and say that you care. You should’ve been happy that I left you alone. Why do you all the sudden want to spend time with me?”
Sigyn bristled, the blow to her pride stung, “I do not want to spend time with you and I don’t care.”
“Good,” he retorted, “I don’t want you to.”
“Yes you do,” she accused, and felt cruel satisfaction at the way his expression darkened with the words. She stood up and took a step forward, enjoying the power she had in those few moments. A cold smile twisted her lips. “You want me to care so much that you hate me for n-”
Sigyn stopped talking with a surprised gasp. Her vision narrowed and widened all at once. She was dimly aware of Loki standing close in front of her, and saw the garden beyond. Each was alternating between blurred and focused. Time slowed and stopped, her senses overloaded with cold and heat. Her insides felt insubstantial and weak and the world was tilting and spinning around her. She leaned forward to compensate until her forehead met Loki’s front. She hadn’t the piece of mind to push him away. The detailing of his leather was blurred and doubled. She felt the press of his hands as they caught her and held her gently. She felt more than heard his sharp intake of breath- and then it all snapped back.
She desperately tried to catch her breath with burning lungs. Her senses pinpointed to one severely burning spot on her side. Nothing else processed in her whirling head. She couldn’t move to sit back up straight for the debilitating pain. She grasped firmly at Loki’s coat as she tried to breathe, the only two things she seemed able to do amidst the fire eating her body. Barely. She couldn’t get air down, it hurt and terrified her. Panic driven tears escaped confinement and wet her face. Loki scooped her up and she whined from the pain it sent through her stomach. She caught a glimpse of his worried face, bare of any illusion or guard against his feelings, and then they were moving. Her dress was damp and sticky. A red stain spread from a golden hilt protruding from her side. She shivered despite the heat that engulfed her body. She was sweating despite the freezing cold.
“Did you stab me?” she gasped as he ran her through the halls. Each step went straight to her head in a pounding rhythm. That made sense. She was dizzy and nauseous, but that made sense. He made sense.
“I thought that’s what you wanted,” he replied evenly, though the heartbeat thudding through his body was anything but. His hands were cold, they soothed the burning of her nerves wherever they made contact with her skin.
She laughed even through the pain fogging her mind. The world was tilting again, the colors sharpening and fading in and out. She could barely see his face, the shapes were blurring together, she couldn’t make out the paintings on the walls or the pillars. She didn’t know where they were going but she felt she should. She had forgotten her book. She hoped no one found it. It was banned, she could get in trouble.
“I wanted you.”
If he responded she didn’t hear it. She barely heard herself, barely registered the words that left her lips as the light turned red and then went black.
Sigyn groaned. Her body was sore, too sore to roll over. She barely had the strength or willpower to bring her hands to her eyes to block the light that burned through her eyelids. And then it was no longer there.
She blinked her eyes open blearily to find Loki pinching the flames out in the various candles. He had evidently already drawn the curtains closed.
“How nice of you,” she teased. Her voice was a hoarse croak.
“It’s not because I like you,” he muttered, pushing a glass of water across a bedside table so that it was within her reach.
She smiled faintly, “Good.” With her eyes open she slowly began to take in details. She must have been in the healing ward. She was lying on a bed that wasn’t her own. The sheets were white and a chair sat at the edge. There were windows to her right and a table to her left. With the cup. Two doors straight ahead. Loki had stabbed her. She giggled.
“What?” the dark haired prince demanded. He remained awkwardly next to the table and the candles.
“You stabbed me.”
“And that’s funny?”
“I mean, I did tell Thor to tell you to stab me. I didn’t expect you to do it though.” The ceiling above her was high and decorated in celestial patterns. How long had she been there? A few hours at least.
“Can I keep the knife?” she asked.
He stared at her, “I hate you.”
“Good.”
A golden dagger materialized in his hand and he tossed it onto the bed beside her. The hilt was familiar. He shook his head, “For a moment I thought I had killed you.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
He said nothing and left her alone, exiting through one of the doors.
Sigyn grasped the dagger lying on the sheets. It was pretty and gold with an artfully wrought, runed handle. She sighed to herself and wished for company. Even if it was hateful.