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The stone-carved stairwell was dark and damp, the temperature dropping further with every step she took, a chill racing up her spine. The flickering light of the torches cast a trembling shadow on the wall beside her. Sigyn pulled her cloak tighter across her shoulders. She had lived in the palace nearly all her life, but she had never come down this deep before. Why would she? The prison had never held any interest to her, and it wasn’t supposed to. Even now, it was nominally off-limits to her, but a handful of gold exchanged with a healthy dose of pity was enough to make the guards look the other way.
The entrance to the dungeons proper was bathed in orange light, cast by the magical shields that held the cell walls together. There was another guard waiting for her there. He stood patiently as Sigyn fumbled for her coin purse. What she was doing here was illegal, treason by every meaning of the word, treason to more than just her king, but she couldn’t bring herself to dwell on it. When Frigga said that he was alive, that he had been found, that he was here , Sigyn’s heart had stopped. It started up again with a vengeance when Odin decreed that he was not to be seen by anybody. How long had she spent mourning, cursing herself with every waking breath and praying to follow him into death? No. She would not accept that.
The dungeons consisted of a long, wide hall, lined with cells on either side. The prisoners gawked at her as she followed the guard through the torch-lit corridor, leering at her as she went past.
“Whatchoo doing down here, pretty?!” a man warbled from her right. Sigyn steeled her grip on her cloak. She knew she’d be a curiosity down here. It didn’t matter. Her mind had much heavier things to carry.
The guard stopped at the corner cell. He motioned over to her before he stepped back. She inhaled. Her fingers trembled. He was in there. Just a few steps in front of her - she’d see him again. Sigyn let out the breath she was holding and stepped forward.
She hadn’t known what to expect. Thor had told her all sorts of things, about how the void had changed him, turned him into some violent, unrecognizable creature, that visiting would do nothing but cause her pain, and she had said to all of it that she didn’t care how he appeared or what he had become, he was her love and she would see him some way, but … her breath caught. He looked like the Loki she remembered. Thinner, perhaps, more gaunt - his hair was longer, his cheekbones pronounced in a way they hadn’t been before. He sat stiffly on the bed, one foot on the ground, one on the mattress, his forearm resting against his knee. Her eyes burned.
It was him.
“ Loki. ”
His eyes widened at the sound, almost imperceptibly, in a way only she would notice. He turned towards her. Norns, he was pale - pale and sunken-eyed, as if it had been years since he had a proper sleep. Her heart twisted in her chest. He was looking at her as if he was seeing a ghost.
Sigyn stepped closer. The heat of the shield singed the hairs on her arm but she barely noticed. “Loki,” she said again, her voice breaking a bit - because it was him, it was really him, it wasn’t a trick or a dream or some false creature, it was him, alive and breathing and come back to her. She wanted to hold him, to run her fingers through his hair and feel his heartbeat against her body, he was alive—
But Loki only stared at her, rigid and unblinking in the yellow light. Her throat tightened. She swallowed.
“Loki, it’s me,” she whispered. “It’s Sigyn - I’m here.”
It was as if a spell had been broken. His gaze hardened. He turned back towards the wall.
Sigyn felt the floor drop out beneath her feet.
She had spent so many nights playing scenarios in her mind, over and over and over again until her head ached and her eyes drooped but still she could not let herself sleep. Could she have changed things? Could she have saved him? Did he blame her? Would he hate her if he knew?
Did he hate her now?
“Loki - Loki please –” but Loki said nothing, did nothing. She hurried around the corner, on the other face of the cell so she might be in front of him. He turned his head away.
Sigyn’s breath was coming in shaky puffs. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there - I never should have left.” She blinked back tears. “I’m here now though - I promise. I’m not leaving ever again. Please, just let me help you …”
Loki didn’t move. He might as well have been a statue.
Sigyn wasn’t sure how long she was there - several hours, at least. She meant it, when she told him she wasn’t leaving again. The last time she had made that mistake she thought she had lost him for good, she wouldn’t allow herself to lose him again. Perhaps, perhaps if she waited long enough, then he’ll speak to her. It will be enough - he just needed to see that she meant it. He needed to see that she loved him and never stopped.
But the guards wouldn’t allow it, no matter how she fought. She was escorted back to the palace proper, still crying out Loki’s name. He never looked up.
It was the same the next day, when she arrived with the gold in her purse fully replenished. He was laying flat on the bed and didn’t even bother to turn his head. Sigyn found herself huddled against the base of the shielded walls, waiting for a response that just never came.
“I thought you were dead, Loki,” she said. “I came back home and I thought I had lost everything. Can’t you at least look at me?”
Apparently the answer was no.
That didn’t stop her, though. Sigyn came every day, although the guards soon learned to up their price with every trip. She paid it each time without fuss - money certainly wasn’t anything to her anymore. She had never had anything to spend her allowance from Brandr on before, and this seemed better than anything else money could buy.
Some days she’d bring him things - the notebook he liked to carry with him before the Bifrost, for instance, or stories from his shelf that he had always enjoyed. One day, she made his favorite lingonberry cake, filled with the homemade jam that he so adored. The guards left it on his table, where it sat untouched for the whole three hours she waited there. Sigyn had hoped that he would eat it once she left, that the temptation would be too strong without her there watching, but her hopes were dashed the next day when the regular guard complimented her on her baking.\
“Apologies, my lady,” he said, rather sheepishly. “But he didn’t want it, and we didn’t want it to go bad.”
It really was a miracle that nobody noticed her daily trek to the dungeons - well, nearly nobody. Asgard’s queen had always been a perceptive one.
Frigga hummed as she leaned against the railing of the balcony. “It’s a dangerous thing, going down to the dungeons alone.”
Sigyn stiffened. She hadn’t heard the queen come up behind her, but she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. “There’s nothing down there that scares me.”
That was true, mostly. The leering men in the cells no longer frightened her as they once had. Even the uncertainty surrounding Loki no longer brought her any fear. No, the only thing she was scared of now was stasis - the idea of a future where Loki forever refused to give her another look.
“Indeed.” Frigga stared out over her gardens, breathtaking even cloaked in darkness. “What does Brandr think of it, I wonder?”
The name filled her mouth with bitterness. Sigyn swallowed with a scowl. “If he thinks anything, he’s failed to inform me.”
Another day, another watch. Loki was sitting at the table when she arrived today - none of the other cells had furniture like he did. Sigyn could only assume that Frigga was responsible for his comfort. She couldn’t imagine the All Father showing favoritism to any prisoner, no matter their relation to him. She found herself wondering about the queen, what she must think of all this. Frigga had mourned too, all this time. Did Loki speak with her? Or were the chairs and table and piles of books collecting dust in the corner her attempt to buy her son’s affection back?
Sigyn settled back into her place against the wall, sighing softly. “Good morning, Loki.”
He said nothing. He never did.
“My lady?” she turned to see the guard from earlier standing beside her. “Forgive me, but security measures have been tightening …”
Sigyn frowned. “And?”
“I’m afraid that we require more, if you wish to continue this - to compensate, you understand.”
“But–” she bit back her irritation. Never mind that she had given this same greedy bastard three times the original price when she first arrived today. As long as she was within these walls, she played by their rules. They did no honor to the All Father’s forces, though, she thought bitterly as she counted out the extra gold coins. The guard bowed to her and retreated back with his prize.
“Do you enjoy tossing wealth down the drain? Or do you do it just to flaunt it?”
The question came in a snarky drawl, so sudden that Sigyn almost didn’t realize who it was that was speaking at first. She turned back to the cell, mouth dangling open for a moment. “Are you talking to me now?”
Loki hadn’t moved from his chair. If she hadn’t been watching his lips, she’d have thought she imagined it. “You heard me.”
Sigyn exhaled - this was what she wanted. After so many days, he’s finally crossing the barrier. This was good. Never mind that her innards felt like melting slush.
“Wealth has nothing to do with it,” she said, forcing her tone to stay even. “I left you once - I won’t leave you again.”
“Oh, how sweet .” He was speaking, and yet it sounded nothing like him - nasally and mocking and bitter. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand straight up. “Tell me, can your husband afford that much bribery?”
“My–” she stuttered, so stunned that for a moment she forgot how to speak. “How do you even know about that?” But he had fallen silent once more.
Sigyn swallows. Your husband. She hadn’t told him - had Frigga? Had one of the guards? Her head was spinning. “Is that what this is about? Loki - that’s not - it’s in name only–”
“You moved rather fast for name only, don’t you think?” His voice was sharp, harsh, his eyes never leaving the table top. “What was it, a month? Norns know you were eager to get away beforehand, weren’t you?”
Sigyn’s tongue turned to lead.
Loki smiled, but it carried none of his warmth - it seemed more like he was baring his teeth. “There. You’ve had your conversation. You’re free to go.” And with that, he turned away once more, leaving her standing there with heaving chest, as though she had just been run through with one of his daggers.
She hadn’t stayed there very long.
Perhaps he had thought he had gotten rid of her for good, but Sigyn was not so easily swayed. She returned the next day, steeled against his words and carrying more than just her husband’s gold. This time, it wasn’t a cake waiting for him on the table. Loki stared at the crumpled prints with a furrowed brow.
“What’s this?” His voice was soft.
“Exactly what they look like.” Sigyn didn’t need to hold them in front of her to know what he was seeing. How many nights had she sat awake, trembling in the dark, staining these scans with her tears? She saw them every time she closed her eyes, the shining glimmering gold of the soul forge twisting into a huddled crescent: a head, a squat little frame, a sweetly curving tiny leg. She swallowed. “I didn’t tell you because I was scared. I know we hadn’t … planned, for that, and I just ...” Sigyn let out a shaky exhale. “I wasn’t ready to face it.”
And so, she had run home, back to her mother on Vanaheim, back where it was safe, panicked and frenzied and without a word to anyone else. They hadn’t wanted children. It was something they had discussed, something they had agreed on, something that they had taken measures to avoid. How could she tell him, then, that their precautions had failed? That she was carrying within her the one thing she knew he wanted least? Sigyn had only been gone for a week - long enough to get her bearings, gather her thoughts - but it had been a week too long.
When she came back, he was gone.
Loki was staring at the scans in a stunned sort of shock. “You have a child?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Sigyn swallowed. “No …” Loki looked up abruptly, gaze snapping to hers like a whip. His beautiful eyes sparkled with tears. She exhaled. “I got sick, right after … after the wedding. Eir says that the stress was too much.”
It had been a cruel twist of the Norns, the cruelest they had ever divined - to let her decide to carry the child, only to take it from her themselves, mere days after marrying a man she didn’t know, just so that the baby that no longer existed would not carry the curse of being raised in wedlock.
Loki looked stricken. “It … it was mine?”
It was such a ridiculous question - despite everything, Sigyn couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course!” She shook her head - she was crying, she realized, tears wet on her cheeks. “Whose else would it be?” Him - it had always been him. And yet, she had abandoned him when he needed her most…
Sigyn sighed, sinking back down to her spot next to the cell shield. “I never wanted to hurt you, Loki,” she whispered. “I should have told you from the beginning but I was so overwhelmed, and then I came back …”
And then he was gone. Dead. Traitor. His name blotted out in all the stories. She had refused to believe it for so long, and then sank into despair when denial was no longer enough.
Across from her, Loki was shaking. “They told me you married another …” he ran his fingers through his hair, clutching his temples. “That the reason you left Asgard was to meet them. They showed me the wedding …”
“Who? Who said this to you?” When he didn’t respond, Sigyn bit her lip. “It wasn’t true, Loki - I didn’t meet Brandr until the day I married him. My mother arranged it - we thought I was having the baby, and so I needed a husband …”
Loki mulled the story over, lips moving in whispers she couldn’t hear. “... and what of this husband? Who is he? Do you …”
“He travels. I rarely ever see him.” It was a sham marriage if she had ever seen one - still unconsummated, too, given how her illness had come on before she had to face her wedding night.Her lip trembled. “I’m yours, Loki. I’ve only ever been yours.”
He let out a huff of air at that, smiling even with the tears dripping down his cheeks. With a sigh, Loki sagged against the chair. “I’m sorry.”
Sigyn shook her head. He looked so broken, Norns, she wouldn’t give to hold him— “No –”
“ Yes. Sigy, look at me!” he stood up, waving his arms around at the cell. “Look at what I’ve destroyed!” he sighed. “I suppose it was easier to imagine that perhaps you had failed me first.”
“No one’s failed anyone–”
“Really? Because it looks rather like a failure from here.” He gestured to her, looking away in disgust once more, but this time it seemed more targeted at himself than her. “You’re trapped on one side in a loveless marriage to a man you hardly know, and tied on the other to some vile, honorless traitor set to spend the rest of his life in a cell who you must funnel away your fortune for just for a chance at seeing. And that’s all because of me.”
Sigyn watched, silently through his speech. Her hand hovered against the shield, as close as it could go without pain. “I made my own choices, Loki,” she said. “If this is to be how you’ll live out the rest of your life, then I will happily live out mine just the same.”
“But you shouldn’t have to, Sigyn,” he cried. “You shouldn’t have to be just another thing I’ve destroyed.”
“Loki.” Her voice was firm - how desperately she wished she could hold him to her chest, stroke his hair as she spoke! For now, though, her voice would have to be enough. “My life was destroyed when I thought you dead. Having you back –” her breath caught in her throat. “ Nothing can compare to the joy it brings me. Even believing that you’d never speak to me again was eons better than living with you gone forever.”
“Sigy …”
“ No. ” Sigyn huffed. “I’m staying here. I’ll come every day until the end of time, if that’s what it takes. I’m not leaving - not ever again.” Her voice left no room for argument.
Loki hesitated for a moment, just staring at her. Norns, those eyes - to think that she once feared she’d never see them again. He let out a breath, shaking his head with a weary smile.
“These bastards will drain you for every cent you have,” he said weakly. “I’m not worth that much …”
Sigyn grinned softly, wiping away the tears with the palm of her hand. “No -” she whispered. “You’re worth so much more.”