The House of Failing Grace (Sigyn)

[Sigyn Laufeyson]

"If you think that the way you are adressing me right now is the proper way to treat me, I believe you have entirely misread me," Sigyn retorted. That was all she'd say about this now. She would not feed his formal act with more discussions. This was not the way she wanted their relationship to be. Sigyn thought this wasn't the way he wanted their relationship to be, either. Hopefully, he was just confused about the latest changes in his life and needed to adjust. Maybe, she was putting him under too much pressure and Loki just needed time.

Then, something happened. She noticed it right away. Sigyn was very attentive, especially with Loki, since he so often tried to disguise his true intentions or feelings. She knew, if she wanted to get to know everything about him, she had to learn to read between the lines, read his body language. She was willing to go all this way. She was his wife, after all. For a second, Loki did not seem to be so composed and formal any more. And when he looked at her, his eyes were the epitome of hurt and regret.
Sigyn was one second short of screwing her plans and taking him into her arms, forget about it and move on. But she was still hurt, still scared and very very angry. Those contradicting emotions did not really help her keep a clear mind. How was she supposed to be thinking straight after what had happened today?
Moreover, Loki needed this punishment now. He needed to feel that she would not let him get away with an act like this one and the one that had happened earlier, in the bathroom. This was necessary. Departing was necessary.
Still being torn between compassion and anger, Sigyn straightened herself up.
"Good night, my love," she said regardless of everything else. She was calling him by this term of endearment for a reason. He should know that he was indeed still her love, even though she would not and did not tolerate his current behaviour.

Sigyn turned and left their quarters, gathered two large wolfhounds and a horse and rode up to the cabin her parents owned. Loki and her had been here twice by now. This time, she had come by herself. Sigyn hadn't even brought staff, just a basic supply of food and a spell book for studying purposes. The ride took her a litte more than an hour, but the fresh air blowing into her face helped her calm down. Winters were cold in Asgard, luckily, her cape was of best quality. Her frozen face would warm up once she had lit the fire in the cabin. At least, it had not snowed significantly yet.

Having arrived in the cabin, Sigyn started to make herself comfortable. She did not even bother to prepare the main living area for herself. Instead, she chose the much smaller area the servants used while being up here. She remembered having snuck into Greta's chambers often, just to cuddle and hear stories. Those chambers had been much more humble than the rest of the house, yet had felt warmer and more familiar than her parents' living room.

Soon, she had curled up on the old couch, the dogs in front of her on the carpet, with a blanket, some tea and her spell book. However, Sigyn could not concentrate on reading.

Her mind - now having had a little break - was going a mile a minute.
Did she want to leave him?
No.
Did she want this to happen again?
No.
Did she want him to mute his feelings?
Not at all.
Did she want him to apologize? To feel bad about it?
Yes.
It was not about being a spiteful monster, but about making Loki realize what he had done and feel it. Because feeling it would create a memory more worthwile than just knowing it. If he felt bad, if he felt sorry, then he'd remember it whenever he thought about this day, remember it with every fibre of his body.
Loki needed to learn to work his feelings out. He needed to learn how to feel alltogether. Here she was, offering him this chance of a lifetime, to be there, to accept every bad and good thing about him, to welcome his true self with open arms.
Possibly, Loki was utterly over-challenged by this situation and now that the first buzz of new love had vanished, he was realizing that the change he had exposed himself to was much bigger than he had reckoned with.

Still, he seeemed to be in this terrible habit of letting formalities take over. And he needed to let go of this whenever he was with her. Tonight, - the ball - would possibly only encourage him to wear a proper masque. Well, it was not her problem, not tonight. Sigyn was here to calm down and make her mind up about him, what exactly she was going to do. She'd fight. She'd get right back on the horse that had just kicked her off.

Late at night, it had started to snow. The dogs had looked up, but not cared about it. Sigyn had watched the snowflakes sticking to the windows with an odd fascination. But eventually, she had fallen asleep, on the couch, with the book on her chest.


When she woke up the next morning, the first thing she felt was her body aching terribly from being shoved around and choked. Her neck felt stiff, her joints were hurting, like a door that needed some oil to function again.
Sigyn moaned, stretched herself. One of the dogs was pushing its cold nose against her hand. Sigyn blinked and eventually got up.
That was when she saw it.
She could not look out of the windows anymore. She frowned, her heart beginning to race just the faintest bit. Sigyn got to the door and pushed the handle.
It only took her one second to close the door again. It seemed like a storm had snowed her in. The house was sunken into a pile of snow, covering it up to the windows and even the door. Of course, she did not know whether it had been this bad in the city of Asgard, since the woods always seemed to suffer more from the winterly storms. She hoped everyone would be okay. Fact was, she could not go back. The horse was in its stable, so it was safe. But riding through this weather would be an impossible thing. Besides, she could not even get out anyway. Sigyn was not magically skilled enough yet to make all this snow melt. Even if she could get out, there was still a long ride ahead of her.

She blinked, pondering. Maybe, it'd be better in a few hours or in a day. She just had to be reasonable with her food supply. If she remained snowed in, she'd have to divide her food into small portions, one for each day. Not that she felt particularly like eating to begin with.

Either way, for not it seemed she could not do much, but wait anyway. So she put more wood into the fire and cooked herself another cup of tea. After all, Loki knew she was up here, so if the news about the snowstorm reached the city - and in case she would not be back after a couple of days -, he might send some guards to come and get her.

Or be happy that she was gone for good.

No. No, he loved her. He did not want her gone.
Or did he?

Curled up on the couch again, she finally started to read the spell-book again, still struggling to concentrate on anything else, but her memory.


ooc: Just came to my mind, if you consider it too dramatic or lame, let me know and I'll change it!

[Loki Laufeyson]

Once Sigyn was gone from sight, Loki dropped into an undignified slouch, his legs spread and his back hunched. Resting his chin in his hand, he began to think. There had to be some upside to all this.There had to be some lesson he must learn. He already knew not to harm her again, so it was not that. What, then? What was he missing?

After some time, he replaced the book he had pulled from the wall and took out another. It looked just like any other book, but on its opposite end there was a lock, one that only Loki knew how to open. A few whispered words in a forgotten tongue, and the lock snapped open. There were several such spells cast on this particular item, including one that hid its true contents behind an illusion that made all the written words look like gibberish. Only the first few pages were used, and it contained mostly spells he had discovered.

By the end of the day, a few more pages were filled, with random thoughts and musings and questions. Sometimes, writing helped him get his mind in order. At the very least, it allowed him to forget anything he did not want at the forefront of his mind.

The impending ball had not slipped his mind, however. As the servants had been dismissed, he prepared on his own, with quite a bit of help via magic. He arrived in the great hall just a little behind time, greeted his parents, thanked all those who congratulated him on his marriage, and even spent some time beside Thor, partaking in conversation and even making a few jokes, just as a newlywed should. Of course, everyone wanted to know where Sigyn was, and he explained quite briefly that she had been unable to attend, without giving a reason, and everyone seemed to accept it.

He could see it in their eyes, though. They all suspected him of something. Odin knew. Frigga knew. Thor knew. Was he fooling anyone? He should have realized that they would immediately blame him for some vague wrongdoing. Everything was always his fault, after all.

Once he was able to escape, he left the hall, only to instantly regret the decision. He had forgotten what it was like to sleep alone. And now that he had grown used to having Sigyn next to him, the loneliness proved a thousand times worse. He put it off by reading in the salon for hour after hour, even after his eyelids began to droop. The sun was nearly rising by the time he dragged himself to bed.

As a result, he slept much later than he had intended. By the time he did awaken, he had missed breakfast, and if anyone had attempted to alert him to that fact, he had missed that as well. As he sat up and opened his eyes, he realized something else: it was cold. Falling back into the mattress, he pulled the blankets up over his head.

Eventually he got up and went about his day. They had a full staff again, but if any of the servants noticed that their lady was missing, none of them mentioned it to Loki. The day passed; while Sigyn had never agreed to send word of her plans, he did think she would, if only out of propriety. As the afternoon passed and no such word had been received, and she had not reappeared herself, he began to consider possible scenarios, each growing more macabre as more time passed. What if someone or something had attacked her in the woods? What if she had been injured on her way there or back? What if she had been abandoned?

Each time he thought of some new disaster, he talked himself back down. He knew Sigyn. She was able to take care of herself. In fact, she most likely had decided to spend another day out in the woods, away from him, and had decided that notifying him was somehow unnecessary. She would probably show up the next day.

Had he managed to get up earlier and attend court with his parents, or had he mentioned to anyone that Sigyn was out in the woods, someone would have put two and two together much more quickly. But he had done neither, and so the evening had almost passed before he learned of the snowstorm. Thor had planned on going hunting, and at dinner, he had mentioned his hope that there would be no more snow and that that which had fallen would lessen, for if not, his trip would have to wait.

A half hour later, Loki was racing toward the woods, alone. Night was falling, and all logic told him that he was making a mistake. He should have brought guards, but then he would have had to explain where Sigyn was, which would have unraveled the lies he'd told the night before. He should not be out this late in the cold, but he could not risk her succumbing to the cold herself. He would be fine; as much as he hated the cold, he'd always had a higher tolerance for it than everyone around him.

Not helping matters was the fact that he really did not remember exactly where the cabin was. If he did, he could have teleported there. With any luck, as he neared the place, latent memories would start to kick in. As he rode, he also tried to remember what the cabin had been like the last time he'd been there. How much firewood was stockpiled? How much food? How many blankets, and how warm were they? He had not paid attention to any of that; he'd been too wrapped up in Sigyn at the time. He did remember that Sigyn had left with only a small satchel of goods, and nothing more than her green cloak to warm her.

In any case, it did not matter, because he was bringing her home. The snowdrifts began to grow in size until it was impossible to ride through them, and his horse utterly refused to go farther. The horse is the smart one, Loki thought wryly.

A quick but powerful spell cleared the way for them to proceed, creating a thin path through the snow. Nothing looked or felt familiar, especially not covered in snow, and in the dark. Besides, more snow was beginning to fall, and the temperature was dropping.

Finally he spotted a snow-covered rooftop that looked like the one he remembered. Really it could have been any random cabin, but his hopes by this time were so low that any sight would have encouraged him. The snow melted to reveal a door, which he pushed open with little trouble.

The wolfhounds had started barking the moment they sensed Loki's presence. Just as she had promised, there were two of them. He stepped inside and closed the door slightly to keep out the wind. The horse remained outside, but he planned to be going straight back to the palace within the next two minutes in any case. They needed to talk, and he knew it, but he preferred that they do so someplace warm.

His gaze fell on her quickly. No longer cold or empty, his eyes told of exhaustion and relief and regret and a world of other emotions. "Sigyn," he said, his tone worried and urgent.

"Sigyn, please come home."

[Sigyn Laufeyson]

Altered circumstances, and the situation Sigyn was in would have been very cozy and quite romantic.
The fire was warming up the small room just fine, but eventually, Sigyn would run out of wood to fuel it. The room smelled very nicely of fire and tea. The couch she was sitting on was old, but utterly comfortable. The blanket only contributed to that comfort. Had she come here with a happy mind - or even with Loki for a small vacation -, being snowed in could have been lovely, amorous even. They could have snuggled on the couch and talked or not talked, exchanged innocent or hungry kisses, patiently waited for the snow to subside, not wanting it to subside at all.

But she was not in a situation like this. She had wanted to take a break for a day or two and return to talk to her husband, if he was willing to talk as she had requested it. And now, she was stuck here with only a small supply of food and too little magic to burn her way through the snow and ride home. Sooner or later, she'd have to get outside in order to check on her horse, at least. It was probably snowed into its stable just like Sigyn and the dogs were snowed in into the cabin.

Just when she had put her spellbook on her stomach in order to briefly close her eyes and take a short nap, the dogs got up and started to bark. Sigyn sat up immediately. Less than a second later, the door opened. There stood Loki, with his hair messed up, covered in a very thin layer of snow and ice. He had ridden through the snowstorm in order to check on her? Even if Sigyn wanted to find a less positive reason for his visit, there was none. It was the only logical explanation. The look in his eyes and the urgency in his voice supported her suspicion.

She got up, putting the book on the couch, leaving the blanke there as well. She had her hands in front of her body, fiddling her fingers. Of course, she gave him a thorough once-over, making sure he was alright. Loki hated the cold, Sigyn knew that. But he had come here nonetheless and frankly, she would have done the same if the roles were reversed.
Despite everything that had happened, she felt utterly, utterly relieved to see him here. He cared. He cared enough to bother riding through a goddamn snowstorm to get to her. And moreover, his composure was not so formal and sober anymore.
Sigyn could tell him that she had planned to return sooner, but had been unable to do so, because of the snowstorm. She could tell him that she had missed him. But for now, Sigyn said nothing about it. Instead, she just tried to hold his gaze best she could. This punishment strangely felt like punishing herself, but it was necessary. Loki did not deserve to be pampered and moreover, he did not need it.
"How bad is it?", she asked, briefly looking at the window, even though the fallen darkness and the snow in front of it took every view from the beholder. Sigyn was torn between stepping up to him, wrapping her arms around him, and keeping her distance. Yes, she was still angry, but most of all, Sigyn was still scared. It was not a rational decision, just the consequence of his behaviour. He could have easily killed her.
"Come, sit down and warm yourself. Would you like some tea?", she offered pointing at the couch in front of the fireplace, while instinctively stepping a good distance out of the way he'd take if he chose to sit down. Loki had just ridden through a snowstorm, he must have been quite cold.

[Loki Laufeyson]

It was possible he had overreacted, but as Loki had neared the cabin, the sight of all that snow had erased that possibility from his mind. Yet Sigyn had done well; the cabin was warm enough, and she had the dogs with her. He almost felt a little foolish for having rushed out to her. She seemed as though she could have lasted for a day or two if she had wished, though the snow had taken that choice away from her by blocking her in.

Indeed, her demeanor gave away nothing. He could not tell whether she was glad to see him, or she had planned on remaining despite the snow. She simply asked about the weather. Loki shuffled his feet a bit, a growing sense of discomfort coming over him.

"I could barely see the cabin from the path," he explained, to illustrate how bad the storm had been. "The city itself is cold and the snow grows there as well, but I had no idea how severe it was out here. I might have been here sooner."

The snow had not stopped, and, though it was somewhat lighter now, it only added more to the snow which already covered the area. As such, Loki had not been planning to stay, but he could not refuse her offer of tea, not without coming off as a pompous arse. What would he do, demand that she come with him right now? Surely that would not help matters. So he wove a quick spell to keep his horse warm and stepped into the small chambers a little further, noting that Sigyn neatly stepped back far enough for him to pass out of arm's reach.

"Yes, please," he murmured while taking a seat as instructed. He was indeed cold, and the fire warmed him enough that he removed his gloves to rub his hands together. He had truly scarred her, he realized as he watched her. They would normally have run into each other's arms, not circled around each other like this. Her actions distressed him. His own actions distressed him. He had become something he had never wanted to be, in front of the only person who would have cared what he was. And he had hurt her.

When she brought the tea, he took the cup from her without touching her hands. As tempting as it was, as close as she was, he could have pulled her in and held her close, but he knew better than to try such a thing now. That time had passed, ruined by all he had done. He would have to make it all up to her, but how?

"Sigyn…." He looked up at her, hoping to catch her eyes. "I have made a mistake, a series of mistakes, and I know not how to remedy them. I am but a trickster and a liar, and my words will mean nothing."

He was trying to gauge her reaction so far, hoping for some sign to show whether he would be forgiven. It seemed he was utterly alone in this, and he struggled for the courage to say the words he needed to say.

"I am sorry, Sigyn. I've never regretted anything more than I do now. If I had it to do again, I would never have laid a hand on you." The memory of what he had done made him shudder. Was that much violence and anger really inside him? What else was there that he must fear?

"I would appreciate another chance, to prove to you that I am not that man." He took a breath and continued to look at her. If she did not accept these honest words, then he had nothing left, no other way to win her back. He had just given her all he had.

[Sigyn Laufeyson]

"I am alright. The snow will fade sooner or later," she gently said. There was still some distance in her voice, though.
He was quite right in guessing that ordering her to join him on the way back to the city would have been the wrong thing to do. Loki did give orders from time to time, he was used to doing it. That alone did have nothing to do with the horrible version of him that had choked her. But it would just have created a bad start for them.

When Loki took his seat, the dogs joined him, lied down in front of the fire. Sigyn put another few pieces of wood into it, so it'd keep them warm a while longer. She then proceeded to gather a cup of tea for him, needing this minute of solitude to make her hands stop shaking and take a deep breath. When she returned, their gazes met and broke, met and broke, it was an odd tension in the room. Loki paid good attention not to touch her hands. Sigyn realized how different this was to the way they usually acted around each other. She hated it. Part of her wanted to sit in his lap and cuddle with him, being happy that neither of them had been harmed by the snow. Yet she couldn't.

When he spoke, she allowed him to look her in the eyes. Sigyn sat down next to him on the small couch, there was not too much space in between them. Her heart started to race instantly. Images of the tub, of his face lying in that gruesome mask, of his hand around her neck popped up in her mind. Instinctively, Sigyn reached up to her neck, rubbed - and maybe even covered - the bruises that had turned quite blue by now. She did not want to be afraid of him. She would sit next to him. She'd touch him eventually. She would fight this fear. Sitting down so close was a start, was it not.

Sigyn almost showed no reaction until he had ceased to speak. Breaking their eye-contact, she looked into her lap for just a moment, gathered her thoughts.
"If you approach me as the trickster and liar, I will treat you as such. If you approach me as the man that I fell in love with, I will believe every word you are saying," Sigyn explained. The man she had married did not lie to her. He was honest and sweet and lovely. "Your words mean everything to me, Loki," she added. Most of the times, she could tell the trickster from 'her' Loki. The way he had tried to half-assedly apologize right after the incident had shown him as said trickster. As the liar. As the one trying to hide his innermost. Thus, Sigyn had not started a discussion then. Loki knew it. He had told her from the start, he had worried he wasn't good enough for her from the start. But Sigyn had unraveled a side in him that she loved. That she'd always love.
"I believe you, you know?", she said, her voice growing smaller with every word she was saying, hands in her lap, fingers fiddling with the fabric of her dress. "And you shall have your chance."
In fact, he would have countless chances. Forever.
"But, Loki," Sigyn said, looking up into his eyes all of a sudden, while her voice was growing stronger, "You and I, we are special. I have shown you pieces of me, shared secrets that nobody knows. I can be myself with you. And you with me. I know it's strange for you, as it is for me. It's strange to adjust to this situation, to know that nothing you'll do will make the other fall out of love for you. I know you need time to get used to this. But you have to. I will not spend my life with someone I did not bargain for. You know who I mean. I am here," she continued, an edge of urgency flowing into her voice, "I am here. For you. And I want it all, all of you. If you feel bad, I want to know it. If you feel sad, I want to know it. And if you're happy, I want to know it. You have to grant me this position, for if you don't, this is not going to work out. Understand, I could have been the one to talk to that morning. To share. With words or silence alike. Maybe, you would not even have thrown the little bucket into the maiden's face, maybe you would not have,.................", she failed to mention the unspeakable.
And before she knew it, Sigyn's hand was on his, that was holding the cup, her gaze on him, urging him to try and come out of his shell, "I'm your wife. We're in this together now. Please don't cut me out."
And please don't beat me up again, her eyes begged.

[Loki Laufeyson]

When Sigyn looked at him, what did she see? Did she see the arrogant prince who had beckoned to her across the room the night they met, or the sorcerer who had been so eager to show off his talents? Was it the warrior who rode off to battle and returned weary but triumphant, or the self-righteous cheater who had treated her so callously? Perhaps the tutor, who had instructed her in magic and helped her sharpen her fighting skills, or the groom, who had given her his word only to break it?

Or was it the menace, the insatiable villain who had so recently betrayed her trust? Who had grabbed her, pushed her, nearly drowned her? Was it he that she saw? If so, could he blame her?

And of all these faces, which identified the true Loki?

He glanced away for a moment, considering her words. "What if they are the same, the trickster and your husband? Different sides to the same being? For I cannot erase my past or ignore what I become when I am around others. I can only be Loki." His tone betrayed his thoughts - that he had never exactly been sure exactly who he was. Once, he had been little more than the realm's foremost mischief-maker. Then Sigyn had revealed something more in him, and, as much as he valued that, it had thrown his view of himself into utter chaos.

As she allowed him another chance, he looked at her again, having noticed how faint her voice had become. Was she nervous about giving him another chance? He certainly was. He knew, innately, that he would blow this chance as well, and find himself right here again, asking for another. It was only a matter of when.

"Thank you," he said softly, stealing another glance at her. He thought an awkward silence might envelop them then, but then she spoke again, directly to him.

Secretly, he was a little glad to have someone who would share what he felt. Sometimes the pain and emotion were so overwhelming that even he could not contain them, leading to disastrous results, as had happened the day before. And she was offering herself for that, despite it all, despite his treatment of her. Was this what true, honest love was like? for he had never in his long life seen anything more beautifully self-destructive.

"I'm not sure… you know what it is that you're asking." He spoke carefully, not wishing to alarm or offend her, but also wanting to be clear. "I will share with you my happiness and sadness and pain, and hope that you will do the same with me. But I cannot… there is more that lives inside me that I cannot name, Sigyn. It is dark and savage and entirely without hope or conscience." He looked down at their hands, where hers lay over his on the cup of tea he had barely touched. "What I was that morning… what you saw… is nothing…."

He slipped his hand away. "I will not give you that burden to bear. You are perfect as you are. I would not have my… malevolence taint you."

Whatever was happening inside him to make him react so violently at times, it was something he would have to work out on his own. He would not risk harming Sigyn again. So far he had avoided looking at her neck, in case its bruising had grown; now he looked, and saw how blue her neck had become, right where he had taken hold of her.

"Does it hurt still?" he asked, very quietly, almost as if he were afraid to hear the answer. The sight brought home just how badly he had hurt her, how far he had gone. It had all felt so… natural at the time.

And that, aside from Sigyn's safety, was what worried him the most.

[Sigyn Laufeyson]

She let him speak. Sigyn let him speak and explain himself, she let him withdraw his hand and continued. All the while, she remained perfectly silent, not a word leaving her lips. Instead, she pulled her knees to her chest and rested her back against the armrest of the couch, so that she could properly look at her husband, that was sitting there like the epitome of confusion and anxiety. It was a sad picture. Sigyn could not help but feel compassion for him. There was still the small voice inside of her that was angry, that was hurt. The dull pain her bruises were causing only fueled that voice. But they were not mutually exclusive, anger and compassion, were they?

Sigyn finally spoke when Loki asked about her bruises. "Yes," she confirmed. It was the truth. Loki had hurt her. She would not play it down or baby him, because of what he had just said. "But you know the physical wounds are least of our problems."

She licked her lips, that felt utterly dry, for a second, still looking at him, whether he'd avoid to lock their gazes or not.
"Loki," she said, more tenderly again, "I never asked for perfection. I might not know all about you yet, but I have spent hours and hours talking to you. I know you are confused, conflicted. You don't know who you are, but neither do I. I'm not asking you to make your mind up, to clear that storm within you. I'm asking you to share. You no longer have to carry that burden alone. I'm with you now. I'll carry it with you. You don't even have to believe in yourself. I believe in you."

That was what love was about, was it not? Being perfectly happy with imperfection. Being willing to be someone to confide him along the long and hard way to yourself, even if you never reached it. Had they not gotten married that soon, had she found out about this side of him, would Sigyn have refused to become his wife? No, not at all. Loki was a master at making everyone believe he was fine, but he had failed with her right from the start. But had it truly been a failure or his greatest victory? Defeating himself, finally?

Sigyn changed her position, back against the backrest, and looked into the fire. "It will only get worse if you turn oblivious or try to figure it out yourself.", she concluded.
She had said what she needed to say for now. He was hurting himself, broken even. She'd reach out to him, over and over again, but it was his to take her hand. Sigyn only hoped he'd do that.

[Loki Laufeyson]

If Sigyn was still angry, she had at least put it aside to talk to him, and Loki was unexpectedly grateful for that. A part of him wanted her to be angry, though, to let that emotion out instead of tucking it away inside. He knew well how damaging that could be. He bowed his head upon hearing that the bruises still hurt. Yet she was right. He had wounded her more profoundly than the bruises could show. Those invisible wounds would not heal so easily

"This is not simple imperfection, my love," he said quietly. "This runs deeper than I can explain. It's dangerous. I can't allow it to bring you to harm again." And if it grew worse within him for the effort, then that would have to do, as long as she was not hurt again. Then again, he had already shown that he was not capable of keeping it inside.

He needed her help, and he knew it. And he did not even have to ask for it; she was offering it freely. But somehow he had the feeling that her taking on this burden would lead them down a dark road, would make her into something she would regret. It had already created a monster within him, that much was clear. He could not bear the same happening to her.

"Sigyn, would you…." He wanted nothing more in this moment than to hold her close, but he was not sure whether that was appropriate. The same hands that would be holding her were the same ones that had beaten her so badly not so long ago. "I should not ask for forgiveness so soon, but I…" He reached for her hand, touching it very gently, such that Sigyn could pull her hand away easily if she wished. He did not finish his statement, just looked at her, the need for her acceptance and approval in his eyes.

[Sigyn Laufeyson]

It seemed like no matter how she put it, Loki didn't accept it, didn't swallow his self-pity and finally agreed, realized what they could do if they only did it together. They could do anything, while the other was around, so Sigyn believed. And if something or someone was putting an obstacle into their way, they'd crush it and move on. Only that Loki was not so optimistic about the future right now.

Then again, it was him being alone with his thoughts, she could only work with what he gave her. And what he was giving her now was not what Sigyn wanted to hear. Not at all.
"Enough of this," she murmured, almost sounding annoyed, squeezing his hand, but letting go instantly, for the sole purpose of getting up. Sigyn crossed her arms in front of her chest, stood in front of the fire for a moment. But she seemed restless. Pushing her hands into her sides, she turned around, her eyes burning as much as the fire behind her.
"Get yourself together, Loki," she said, the hint of anger in her voice, "I have sympathy for you. I feel for you and I share your pain. But what do you think is wallowing in self-pity going to do for you? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. There are obstacles. We're on the way to unraveling them, discovering them, thus on the way to solve the problems that lie ahead of us. Now for crying out loud, man up! You swore an oath to me! You are responsible for me now. You will not back out. I will not accept that. Now rise from that couch and straighten up, because as long as I am with you, nothing is going to defeat you. Nothing and no one. Not even yourself.", she said, becoming more agitated with every word she was saying.

In fact, Sigyn was scared. Scared that he would leave her, because he assumed it'd be for the best. Then, his demons would have defeated him. She could not let that happen.

[Loki Laufeyson]

Something about his words seemed to make Sigyn irritated. He was not sure exactly what it was, his refusal to allow her into his deepest pain and frustration, or his broken question, his search for forgiveness. She squeezed his hand, as though to reassure him, but the next moment, she was gone, standing before the fire. Watching her, he lifted the teacup to his lips, but barely tasted the drink, barely noticed whether it was still warm.

He felt as hollow as a shell as her words reached his ears, reverberating somewhere within him, rattling within the confines of his mind. Her anger made no sense to him. He was trying to protect her, to keep her safe. Was that not what she wanted? Certainly she did not want a repeat of that morning, which would certainly be the case if he allowed that darkness out again.

He rose to his feet upon command, at first uncertainly, then squared his shoulders and closed his eyes. "As you wish, my love."

The words were not spoken in that formal tone she so hated, but hinted at an inner anguish, and a reluctance, as he was still not convinced this was the best of ideas. He stepped around the dogs carefully, and stood before her, in front of the fire. He was silent for a time, simply looking at her, silently enthralled by her beauty, not only in the physical sense, but by her heart, her wisdom, her love.

"If you would have all of me, you must take me as I am, in the broken mess I have become. You must take the part that loves you as much as he hates himself. You must take the broken child and heal him, take the monster and tame him. It is a lofty task, one I would wish to spare you. But, as with anything else in my heart, it will be as you wish."

Now he moved closer to her, within an arm's length, but did not touch her yet. "This heart in tattered pieces, through no fault of your own, but by the dedicated work of so many others over so much time, is all I have to offer you, all I can give in reparation. Perhaps it will be enough to make up for the pain I have caused you."

Taking her hand gently, he clasped it between his own hands, his eyes meeting hers, his chest heaving a little, in fear and anticipation. "I would ask that you tread carefully, and handle it with care, as no one else has. You have always had my complete trust, and have never betrayed it. Please do not betray me now."

He gazed at her, part of him willing her to slap him and walk away, for some reason he could not identify. It was the fear, giving him hope that she would decline his offer so he would not have to open his heart fully to her. Yet somehow he thought that this moment, this fear and the pain of tearing his heart open - for that is what he would have to do, he had to force himself out of the habit - might be the most exquisite, glorious moment of pain he had ever experienced.

[Sigyn Laufeyson]

Even though he rose and approached her, Loki did not seem to be entirely comfortable as he took her hand and said what he had to say. Even though she had known it before, it was in this moment that Sigyn realized how much strength and discomfort this was causing him, how hard opening up was, even to her. It'd need time. Aeons. But they had millenia to work it out and Sigyn wanted nothing more than be this person to him.

Sigyn turned so she would face him, closed her hands around his. Her eyes softened, warmed up as she released a little sigh. Lifting one hand, she cupped his cheek, stroked her thumb over his skin.
"But I already took you as you are, my love," Sigyn said. She felt tired and ambitious at the same time. She wanted to make it okay, fix him, even though she knew this would not happen instantly. It'd take a long time.
"Don't you ever dare to think I'd betray you," Sigyn continued, the hand on his cheek slightly slapping it, without hurting him, just to make a point. "You're the only one I trust with my heart. I will not let you down."
In silence, she held his gaze. She'd fix the mess that was a prince of Asgard. She'd be his rock. She'd be his saviour and if it was the last thing she'd do.
"Now, get out of that damp cape and those boots. We're snowed in and night has fallen. We can't go back tonight. And you need to rest. You're exhausted."

[Loki Laufeyson]

As Sigyn cupped his cheek, he leaned slightly into her hand, reveling in the feel of her touch. It felt as though forever had passed since he had last felt it, though in fact only a day or so had passed. He blinked a little when she slapped him lightly, but he supposed he'd had it coming. In his fear, he had underestimated her devotion to him.

They were not exactly snowed in, as Loki considered pointing out. He could easily melt the snow the same way he had getting into the cabin. It would be no trouble at all, especially since he did not really want to stay out here overnight. She was right that he was tired, though, and that, as well as her apparent wish for him to stay made the decision for him.

Turning away for a moment, he removed his somewhat soggy cape and boots and set them out to dry. He was silent as he did this, his mind slowly recovering from what he had just done. He had promised to let Sigyn into his world, his heart. He had also long since promised her that he would not lie to her. What had he done? He was sure he would come to regret this.

"My love, do you think perhaps we did marry too soon?" he asked, his back still to her. Their marriage had been sudden, but it had made sense at the time. Now, however, he was wondering whether they should have taken more time to learn the other, to understand just what it was they were getting into.

[Sigyn Laufeyson]

She had no idea how easily he had made the snow melt. Sigyn had yet to understand the might that lingered within him, but she knew he was much more skilled, better educated and mighty than her. It was still night and the snowstorm was still on, though. It'd be much smarter to travel all the way down to the city in bright daylight.

As Loki got rid of his damp clothes, Sigyn retreated to the couch, wrapped the blanket around her body and pulled her knees towards her chest again, watching him. What was he suggesting? Altered circumstances and she would have been quite mad about this proposal, but after what just happened, she knew where he was coming from.
"No," Sigyn said, conviction lacing her voice, "We're meant to be together, married or not. Not tieing the knot would just have made things complicated at court and in public. I'm very much inlcined to disobey if need be, but this would just have turned out to be an utterly unnecessary struggle."
She paused, waiting for him to turn around and join her.
"I love you, Loki. I always will. I would have married you eventually anyway. Do you think differently of this?", she asked. "Come hither.", she beckoned then.
Somehow, Sigyn turned impatient. He honestly took forever to change and she wanted him on the couch, in front of her. She would realize how deeply the scars ran, that he had inflicted on her a day ago, when it came to touching and being close to him. But right now, she wanted him to be close. It was this weird feeling of urgency, of needing physical contact, after a fight had been settled.
"Come hither faster," she repeated, a weird mix of irritation, stubbornness and fun in her voice. After all, she was on withdrawal: Before yesterday, Sigyn and Loki had been inseparable, together almost all of the time, exchanging touches, kisses and gazes one way or the other. Now, it indeed felt as if she had not touched him in years.

[Loki Laufeyson]

Of course, Sigyn was right about their marriage and the reasons behind it. Loki had wanted Sigyn as close as possible as often as possible. He had wanted her in his bed, but without risking her honor. Had they waited to marry but kept on as they had, others would have spoken badly of her, and Loki would not have had that.

He knew they would have married at some point. It had only been a matter of time. But in that time, they might have gotten to know each other better, and she could have made a clearer decision regarding whether she wanted to marry him. It was difficult for Loki's mind to accept that she would have married him regardless of his faults.

"I think the greatest joy of my life has been my marriage to you," he answered, earnestly and sincerely, "and though I still grow used to the change, I do not regret it."

He took his time getting out of the damp clothes, and it seemed to bother her somewhat, as she beckoned him once, then a second time. He smiled to himself. This was more like it, really. Here was their ability to play, to be only partially serious with each other. Turning around, he finally walked toward her, to where she was sitting on the couch. He knelt in front of her, tenderly wrapped his arms around her, placing his hands on the small of her back.

"Sigyn, my wife, my friend, my heart's love." He looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers. "Know that I love you, and always will, no matter what I may say or do. You will always be the greatest part of me."

That said, he moved one hand around to tickle her stomach. "You wanted me to come hither, my princess. Now I am hither; what do you plan to do about it?"

[Sigyn Laufeyson]

Sigyn barely moved as he knelt in front of her, hugged her and spoke to her. A small voice inside of her flinched, but it did not reach the outside. That was what she'd have to go through, make new memories about touches being exchanged out of affection and not violence. It'd be okay in the end, it'd just take some time and the will to get through it. She did want to get through it. Eventually, Sigyn peeled her arms out of the blanket, put her hand on his cheek again.

It was good to hear those words. He spoke from his heart, the truth. But he had spoken from his heart when he had uttered his concerned and apparently, he had indeed wanted to choke her when he had done so. Sigyn had thought she was conflicted, but Loki was by far leading by example.
So when he wanted to catch up on her earlier playfulness, Sigyn didn't. Instead, she kept their gazes locked, gently held his hand so he'd stop to tickle her.
"Listen to your heart, my love. It'll guide the way," she whispered. Loki had to be reminded to go with his guts and heart. He was usually using reason to find his paths and scheme his plans. "It's leading you to me. Your heart is never going to betray you."
But it might cause you pain, she concluded in her thoughts.
"Come, sit," Sigyn said, her voice stronger now, as she re-arranged herself. She was patting the spot next to herself, "I want to share something with you."