The Purging of Asgard

Chapter 7

Inside the fortified walls of Asgard's Citadel, Loki Odinson walks alone. Originally, he had taken to walking these streets out of boredom, but he found he enjoyed seeing the citizens at their menial work; seeing the forge fire perpetually burning, the masons and coopers manipulating stone, metal, and wood; fabric weavers, butchers, bakers, and a tavern at every corner, all alive and busy, the boisterous laughter and storytelling filtering out to the streets and mingling with the chatter of haggling and negotiating from the surrounding shops.
Mostly, Asgardians bustled around him, taking no notice of him, though a few stopped briefly, to offer a quick bow or curtsy to their prince.
"Where do you think you're running off to?" An altercation in an alley nearby catches Loki's attention, three men ganging up on a woman, she stood with a headstrong, noble air, a strong posture of defiance. She would surely put up a fight. Loki wondered if he should step in and stop the fight before it started, but then, he was too curious of the outcome.
The men box her in and she presses as close to the wall as she can, flattening herself against the stones. For just a moment, Loki catches her eye, he expects to see panic, fear, the look of an animal about to succumb to a predator. She winks. 
She winked? 
Loki blinks, initially unsure if he had seen right, but then she is in motion. Striking bare-handed, she twists, punches, and elbows, stepping just so to dodge their blows and throw them off balance, using them as shields against each other. He could have thought it an elaborate dance if not for the sickening crack of a bone giving way or the pop of a joint dislocating whenever her fist or the heel of her hand made contact. The fight was over before Loki even made it to the alley. One man was clutching his dislocated shoulder and spitting out mouthfuls of blood, apparently missing at least one tooth. Another was stumbling away, one of his eyes already swelling shut, both streaming tears as his broken nose gushed blood. The third man was crumpled on the floor by the wall, unmoving, one of his arms in an unnatural angle under him, his broken jaw already bruising. Loki wasn't sure the man was even still alive, but he found he didn't care; he was too preoccupied with the fascinating creature before him. He caught her eye again, but this time he held her gaze, seeing a spark burning there, nearly hidden, an independence and intelligence that he was unused to. 
"Impressive." He says, smirking, she curtsies,
"Thank you, my lord." She says quietly, with a meekness so contrary to what he had just witnessed.
"Forgive me, milady, but I do not remember us meeting at court."
"For good reason, sire. We haven't. I am the Lady Sigyn." She bowed slightly,
"Goddess of fidelity. You fight like a warrior."
"Loyalty is not synonymous with being a doorstep." She says defensively,
"It was meant as a compliment, I assure you. There are not many ladies at court who can fight as you do."
"I hear the queen can be quite spritely when pressed." This makes Loki laugh, a genuine, amused laugh. The thought of his gentle, loving mother spinning, twisting, and punching as fiercely as this Lady Sigyn was an image that struck him as quite comical. She turns to leave. 
"Wait, would you like to join me?" Loki asks, not wanting to let her go. She looks reluctant at first, 
"You want to take a walk with me?" She asks, seeming confused, "around the city?"
"Yes. I do. It's a dangerous city. I may need you to defend me." Sigyn chuckles and, agreeing to a walk, she takes Loki's arm. The two of them wandered through the city talking, about food, family, books, fond memories, not-so-fond memories, and found themselves sitting in a courtyard near the palace long after the shift change for the guards. Neither of them knew how long they sat without speaking, and neither of them cared, it was a companionable silence that they didn't feel the need to break. 
"What?" She says suddenly, shifting her gaze from the stars to Loki,
"What do you mean?" He asks, 
"You've been staring at me for twenty minutes. What?" He had the decency to blush slightly, but her only answer was a mischievous smirk. She opens her mouth to speak before suddenly being silenced by Loki's lips. She freezes, not quite knowing how to respond. But she quickly relaxes into him, sighing into the kiss and leaning closer to the prince. 
Loki's heart races, his kisses becoming feverish, and he tangles his hand in Sigyn's hair, pulling her even closer to him. His left hand slides from her leg to her hip as he feels her fingers slide into his hair...
"Sir... Sir... Are you alright?" Loki is awakened to find himself still hiding in the alley, being shaken by a man in a greasy white apron. He gets to his feet as quickly as his stiff, joints will allow after him being hunched in a corner all night. He brushes past the man without answering, still in a fog from his dream. He heads to his temporary living space in a nearby high-rise, needing to replace his now stained suit, and shed the grime and stink of the alley.
'Push it aside. There's too much to focus on. She has to wait.' But he can't shake the ache in his heart.