In Her Absence
Loki was in a perpetual bad mood and had been. He stalked through the corridors with an expression of ice cold anger. The servants and other residents leapt out of his way whenever they occupied the same space, as though scared of feeling his sharp gaze turn on them. Scared his vindictive malevolence would jump out to bite them if they so much as met his stare. And yet Sigyn hadn’t noticed. She didn’t seem to be aware that they never saw each other. She didn’t care. Whatever that letter was, whoever it was from, Loki hated it. He hated that it meant more than their hatred. She forgot him in the face of this strange new acquaintance.
He wondered bitterly how they had even met, it wasn’t like she ever left the palace. Or she hadn’t until that stupid letter arrived and then all the sudden, she was gone every night. His hatred for whoever lured her away was stronger and fiercer than any he had ever felt. How dare they ruin the one relationship he had been confident would never change. How dare they take away the first person who had ever accepted him as he was. The one who hated him, not because of his queerness, but in spite of it.
His anger burst from him in an involuntary explosion of pressured magic. The vases and mirrors against the walls shattered, raining glittering shards of glass down onto the smooth, white stone floor. He caught his reflection in a larger piece and held his own furious glare for a few moments before continuing down the hall. Sigyn was gone, and in her absence, Loki had lost control. He had no one on which to take out his anger , no one he could rely on to feel the same way about him no matter what happened. Without an outlet, everything built up. When it became too much, he lashed out. Viciously.
As if the universe had agreed that this was a disruption in the natural order of things, there appeared Sif. She and Fandral were dressed in leather training armor, obviously heading down to the ring. Loki’s mouth curled into a cruel smile. He may yet have fun.
He fell into step beside Fandral who sensed the dangerous mood he was in and glanced at him nervously.
“Are you alright?” he asked warily.
“Alright is a relative term,” Loki replied.
“We don’t care.” Sif snapped.
Loki ignored her, “I assumed we were heading to the training ring.”
Sif turned her head to look at him with narrowed eyes of hatred. An expression Sigyn wore better. “We are not heading anywhere!” she snarled, hair swinging behind her. It hadn’t quite grown back yet and hung barely past her shoulders. Mean satisfaction filled him at the sight of his handiwork.
“My apologies, Sif, I was speaking to Fandral. I would never willingly go anywhere with someone like you.”
She opened her mouth for a retort, but sadly Fandral cut in, “Yes, we were heading to the training ring.”
“Excellent. I’ll join you.”
Fandral just nodded, still wary. Sif made a sound like a duck with a sore throat, which he assumed was supposed to illustrate her discontent, and sped up to walk ahead of them. Loki wasn’t sure what she thought would come of that.
“Was there something in your throat?” Loki asked mildly.
“Gods, you're insufferable!” she whirled around, “No one wants you around. Even Sigyn doesn’t spare you the time of day anymore.”
Loki’s smile dropped and he regarded her with a piercing cold stare that even the warrioress backed down from, “Well, you got the God part right. You might want to remember who it is you’re so fond of insulting. Maybe you could compare the power you hold as opposed to mine, your prince.”
“The second prince, barely a footnote in the royal lineage,” she snapped, though she looked properly cowed.
“You think that matters? I could slit your throat here and maybe get a slap on the wrist. The only one who would give me trouble is Thor, and that doesn’t really dissuade me from the enticing notion.”
Sif ground her teeth, squaring her jaw, “I challenge you, my lord,” the title was said in mockery, “to a duel. First blood.”
Fandral grabbed the lady’s elbow, “Sif, just walk away, this isn’t a good idea.”
Loki’s grin had returned, all teeth and sharp edges, “Level headedness doesn’t suit you, Fandral.” He turned to Sif, her spine was straight, her shoulders thrown back, and her chin held high in a facade of confidence, “I accept.”
“Good.” she said, and swallowed.
Fandral stood nervously off to the side as Loki and Sif selected their weapons of choice and made the last adjustments to their armor. The other occupants of the ring had looked once at the dangerous expressions on Loki’s and Sif’s faces and vacated the arena. Very wisely, Loki thought, perhaps the smartest decision of any of these brawn-over-brains warriors would ever make. Sif was one of them and he was about to teach her what good strategy could do.
They squared up, sinking into combat positions.
“Tell us when, Fandral,” Loki ordered.
He sighed, resigning himself to his fate, “Go.”
Sif leapt forward, sword extended, but Loki only smiled and faded from view.
“No magic!” Sif shrieked, “That’s cheating!”
“All’s fair in love and war,” Loki sing-songed smugly in her ear. She whirled around again but he was already gone. It was so easy. Too easy. All he had to do was cut her. He sighed and let the illusion drop, maybe he wouldn’t use magic this time, “Do you see how easily I could win?”
“You’re weak!” she snarled, charging again, and then she froze. Loki held her still with his powers. She strained against his magic, but they were pitiful attempts. He laughed.
“Am I?”
“No magic,” she grunted.
“Why?” he asked her, stepping around and releasing her from his hold. Her trapped momentum carried her forward and she just barely managed to keep from hitting the ground.
“It’s cheating!” she snarled, shaking hair from her face.
“Because you can’t beat it? Admit you can’t beat me and I’ll fight you the way you want, no magic.”
She lunged again and this time Loki met her sword with his own blades. He engaged her in a flurry of exchanged strikes and parries, neither landing a hit, but this at least was less boring. She was much stronger than he was, but he was faster. He tripped her and she went down in a roll, standing again in a second. Her chest heaved and her skin gleamed with sweat. Her hair was an absolute mess. He knew he looked much better, whatever could Sigyn find so appealing about this girl?
She growled, burning hatred fixed on him now and this time when she attacked it was focused and neat, having crossed the threshold into her killing calm. Her strikes were quick and precise and finally Loki could see why she was such a dominant warrior in the ring. She was not simply blunt strength, there was skill there, as much as Loki hated to admit it.
He narrowly avoided her next attack by twisting to the side and out of reach, he stretched his own blade out and managed to catch her ponytail, cutting off another inch. He laughed, it had been an accident, but it was too good not to take credit for.
“What’s going on?!” The screech cut through Loki’s focus. He heard Fandral try to reassure the intruder, but she was having none of it. “Stop it!” she ordered. Only one person would have the audacity to give him a direct order like that.
Loki ducked around Sif and turned to look at a furious Sigyn, “Why should I stop?”
“Because someone is going to get hurt- SIF!”
Loki turned just in time to dodge her. “And you say I’m a cheat,” he scolded.
Sigyn threatened something he wasn’t paying enough attention to hear.
He and Sif continued their deadly dance, blades flashing and moving. She twisted her sword during their next contact and sent Loki’s flying across the arena. Sif was barely able to grin before he had conjured twin daggers. He moved closer for the advantage of his shorter weapons. He stabbed and she caught his arm, pinning it against her side and elbowing him hard in the ribs. Loki grunted and struck with his second knife, but Sif released him and pushed him to the ground. Loki rolled away and stood again. Finally, his knives caught skin, and a splatter of red hit the ground. Loki slowed to a stop, expecting Sif to honor the deal and surrender. Of course, she did not. Loki heard a cry that he was ninety percent sure was not his as she swung her sword with all her might- and shattered it on Mjolnir.
They both froze and turned to watch the hammer fly back the way it came into the waiting hand of Thor. Sigyn stood beside him, eyes wide in fading fear and hands over her gaping mouth. Had the scream been hers?
“What was that?” Thor asked, his eyes narrowed and stern.
“A duel,” Sif replied calmly, “for honor.”
“Then I must say you lost!” Sigyn spat. Suddenly animated and furious again. Loki smiled. She was taking his side. After so long of nothing, finally she was his again.
Sif bristled, “You know nothing.”
Sigyn took a step forward towards the unstable warrior with a sword, mouth set in a thin, angry line, “I know you’re a fool! Even if there was a reason for this duel, he is your prince! What do you think would have happened to you if Thor had not intervened?”
Loki’s smile dropped, of course it wasn’t him she was thinking of.
“Sif,” Thor sighed, “I know my brother can be irritating, but Sigyn’s right.”
“Fine,” his opponent spat. She threw her sword down and stalked out of the arena.
Thor watched her go before turning back to his brother, “Are you all right, Loki?”
“Never better,” he replied dryly, “One day I’m going to become the villain you all say I am. I’m getting pretty tired of her.”
“Well if you didn’t provoke her-”
Loki’s temper flared. “Oh yes, take her side. Why don’t you go after her brother, you might get a kiss out of it.”
“This is what I mean!” Thor exclaimed, “Next time I’ll just let you kill each other.” And he left, indeed going after Sif.
Loki turned to Sigyn… and Fandral? “You’re not on her side?”
Fandral shrugged. “She cheated.”
“And you?” He challenged Sigyn. She had to choose now, once and for all, no more playing both sides.
“Who administered the challenge?” she asked, making it difficult. She was determined, it seemed, to play both.
“Does it matter?”
“I already said you won.” Sigyn glared. “What more do you want?”
Loki stepped forward, grabbing desperately at her shoulders.“I want you to tell me I’m right and that she’s nothing! Worthless! I want you, who hates me with everything you are, to choose me!”
Something sharp scratched his throat and he backed up, putting an inch between himself and Sigyn’s raised dagger. His dagger that he had given her. How dare she use it against him- and yet- he was impressed.
Her lips pulled up in a smile. “Why would I do that? After all, I hate you with everything I am.”
“Your grip is wrong,” he whispered, grinning now as well. He looked down at her across the shining blade. Her small form stood defiant, legs slightly apart in some semblance of a fighting pose. Her hand was steady. Steady enough that Loki did not fear stepping closer, into the knife. It would not cut him unless she meant it to. Her breathing picked up as he closed the distance. She did not move until he grabbed the wrist holding the knife to his throat. His thumb had barely brushed the skin inside when she twisted away and left the ring without a backward glance. He watched her go, fingers smearing the blood from a cut on his thumb in circles across his fingertips. He wondered where she’d learned that defensive move.
“I honestly cannot get a handle on your relationship.” Fandral reminded him of his existence.
“We hate each other,” Loki assured him, tearing his eyes from Sigyn’s retreating back.