Fragmented

~~~

“You are not to behave so again, is that understood? You will not interfere with the duties of the guards, which, I may reinforce to you, are to protect you. Breaking their line causes confusion and distraction and endangers all of us...”

If Loki was to be honest, an irony for the silver-tongued prince, the Allfather’s words were a bit too harsh. The Allfather, having seen only the confusion and mild panic of the guards as Sigyn stepped outside their protection, had taken the occasion to reprimand Sigyn for “disobeying the protocol of the royal guard.”

Sigyn stood before the Allfather, folded inward, shoulders hunched in attempt to shrink from the Allfather’s unforgiving gaze. Her right hand was grasping her left forearm, as though cradling an injury, and at first, Loki had thought she had sustained a wound in the shuffle of horses and guards, but the sleeve of her gown was unscathed, leaving Loki to surmise that the skin underneath was as well. Straight backed and stiff, Sigyn appeared contrite. Loki knew better.

On and on, the torrent continued. Loki had taken to shifting restlessly behind Sigyn, stamping his feet, sighing loudly, and rolling his eyes in a manner not entirely subtle. Sigyn contrasted him, face blank and shoulders square. This was hardly the first time either of them had been brought before the King as a result of some mischief, usually of Loki’s design, but this time…
Enough however, was enough, and Loki was beginning to feel uncomfortable. After all, Sigyn had protected the little girl who had run excitedly out into the crowd to look at the horses. If Sigyn had not swept the girl up, she surely would have been trampled. To all who looked on, Sigyn had clearly saved the child. The mother's relief had been tangible as Sigyn had returned her daughter, and had praised Sigyn almost violently. Yet, Sigyn stood now against a torrent of discipline, as if she had wandered off instead of protecting a small child from certain injury. Time wore on. Bored, hot, tired, and hungry after the endless procession through the streets, Loki’s ability to be quiet was quickly waning.

“Father-“

“Hush Loki, I did not ask you to speak!”Undeterred, he tried again.

“Father is it not enough? We are all tired and scattered from the day’s events. She meant no harm, let it be over?” Rain had evaded the city for a fortnight and hot, grimy dust seemed to coat every surface, and it clung to all of them, staining everything a faint reddish brown. Coupled with a long procession on horseback, Loki was eager to bathe and sink into his soft bed.

“Enough! Be silent!” The Allfather’s forceful tone echoed dully off the glimmering stone walls of the small chamber, ringing harshly. In the corner of Loki’s eye, Sigyn jumped.

Sigyn hid her features, simply a blank statue upon with the Allfather’s fury crashed, weathering stone into glass. Loki caught Sigyn’s hand twitch, and her shoulders crease briefly. A subterranean shudder passed through her, and Loki involuntarily reached out. He turned, eyes pleading to the Queen to interfere. Frigga returned his gaze with a firm, closed look. She shook her head almost imperceptibly. Tapping his foot noisily, and scratching at the insufferable dust, he weighed his option of interjecting again. Clearly, Sigyn was inclined to wait this out. Loki was taunted by the image of his bed, and less resilient. Suddenly, Sigyn made a convulsive movement, and for a moment Loki thought she was choking. She raised her head, eyes blazing, and met the Allfather’s gaze in a stark challenge. Loki wished sorely he had been paying closer attention, as to recall what exactly his father had said the moment before. Sigyn’s voice was flat, strained in a way that made Loki uneasy, and the look on her face left a strange feeling in his stomach. As she spoke, she clutched her arms inward in a sharp, aggressive gesture, pressing them against her chest as though to protect herself.

“I am unsure, Allfather, of your disappointment! In Asgard, is it uncommon to treat children with such simple kindness as to ensure their safety and well-being? To return them to their mothers? Children of Asgard! Do they all know such callous uncaring cruelty? I risked myself only for the sake of a child!”

Harsh as grating stone, her voiced rang in the small chamber for a moment. The room was entirely still. Loki could swear he heard something crack, and his skin pricked. Afraid to breathe as to break the silence, Loki held his breath. He ran his hands through his hair, causing a small cloud of dust and dirt to scatter into the air. No one else moved. Sigyn was frozen, eyes downcast and body rigid.

Loki would bet the highest stakes possible that Sigyn had meant to say more, but he saw a look of utter shock cross her face, followed by something else. Her mouth snapped shut as quickly as it had opened, and she ducked her head, eyes fixed solidly on the floor. Loki sought his mother’s eyes desperately, silently begging her to speak, but Frigga would not meet his eye, and Loki was suddenly afraid to look up at his father. His heart beat hotly in his chest, and something uneasy slid in between his ribs, breath still caught in his throat he dared not make a sound. The glass in the window shuddered.

When he finally gained the courage, after too long a silence, to look at his father, Loki found that the king’s face was impassive. Admittedly, Loki railed verbally against his father regularly, as he found himself often disciplined for some ridiculous mischief nearly every day. But Sigyn had never, in all the time Loki had known her, even in adolescence, raised her voice above delicate politeness in the presence of the King. Sigyn, born in Vanaheim, bordered on formality at all times and did not possess the same levity that Loki and his brother did in matters of the Allfather.

Odin had not moved, his face was closed, heat burning in his eyes. Loki cringed when the King spoke; Sigyn flinched.

“Leave us Loki, I would speak to Sigyn privately.”

~~~

“Shall we to bed then? I am covered in dust.” Her face was blank, and utterly closed off. She was visibly unharmed, but Loki surveyed her closely regardless, not quite sure what he was searching for.

“What happened? Are you alright?” Pulse fluttering rapidly, Loki shuffled on his feet.

“Of course. I am fine Loki, this is not the worst he could do I think.”

“What? Do what? What happened?”

She gave him an odd look. “Nothing happened.” She laughed, a strange, convulsive, hiccuping gesture, and Loki placed his hands on both of her upper arms.

“Sigyn, look at me.” Green into blue, her eyes bored into his. “Are you alright? What was his punishment?”

“Punishment?” She laughed oddly again, a dry, grating sound of rustling papers and crushing stone. “There is no punishment my love, I am not a child. Let us to bed.” She brokered no argument and set off at once towards their chambers, and Loki had no choice but to follow. He persisted, attempting to color his nightmares. She gave nothing in return. Lights had been dimmed for the evening, casting the hall into otherworldly vagueness. Impish and distorted reflections accompanied them to their rooms, taunting and pointing and laughing in mock reality.

Finally, frustrated with his interrogation, she stopped dead in the hall, her hand resting on the door to their rooms, and fixed him with a firm look, appearing to grab hold of him through her gaze. The dim lighting threw her face into sharp contrast, and her eyes seemed to glow furiously green against the shadowed pallor of her skin. He could not remove his eyes from her. Blue black shadows writhed down the side of her face, contorting her features. Bathed in shadowy light, she had a dreamy phosphorescence.

“I do not know what you mean my dear. Nothing has happened.” She turned curtly, opened the door, and disappeared into the gloom within, a wraith vanishing into the cursed mist of Niflheim.

~~~