How to get away with murder

Glorious day

It seemed unreal to Sigyn how everything seemed to go according to plan. But what plan exactly? Loki would not say. All she knew was that he had told her to trust him – him? The God of lies? But then again, her friend and the man she loved – and let him manage the whole situation. He was used to this kind of thing, after all. Hiding a murder had been for her quite traumatic and complicated. But for Loki? This was just another day. He was – rather to Sigyn's dismay- used to it. Was murder a hobby to him? Or was it just one of the causalities of his ever-going schemes?

She was not sure how to feel about it. On one hand, her principles ordered her to condemn such behavior, on the other, wasn't she happy to have help in her situation? Wouldn't it be rather hypocritical of her to judge him while having still Theoric's blood on her hands?

They were both murderers, she had to accept it and move on.

What she did not understand was why he had insisted on letting go of the golem. Sure, it took her a lot of energy, and was truly draining her, but it was better than the Crimson Hawks taking notice of their colleague's absence and looking for him everywhere. Not that they would find him – there was not much of his body to find left, anyway. Still, they would probably ask his fiancé what had occurred, as some might remember Theoric going to see Sigyn that fateful night and... she was not sure she was a good enough liar to keep herself from crying in front of them. Loki was the one who could tell any story he wanted and people would have believed him – had he not have this awful reputation.

Sigyn shivered. She wished she had not brought her friend into this mess. If Theoric's murder was ever discovered, what would the folk think? Would they imagine that Loki murdered Theoric out of jealousy? Or, even worse, that she asked him to do it – as a pair of ruthless, bloodthirsty lovers? Sigyn laughed, imagining their faces if they knew she was the one with Theoric's blood on her hands. Oh, the shock! Oh the drama! Poor innocent, sweet Sigyn as a murderess. No, they would never believe it. Well, they would be right, as it had been an accident. Still, she still felt awfully guilty about it all, and thought she deserved to be punished in a way or another for her crime. She was going to Hel, she was sure of it now, but the Norns would make her pay in the land of the living too.

And yet, right now, everything was going wonderfully well. No need to escape anymore, as Theoric was not a threat to flee from, no need to say goodbye to anyone.

She was coming back from work, enjoying the Sun's soft rays on her skin, and the light air delicately caressing her face and hair, when suddenly, she heard a very familiar laugh from afar. Her heart stopped, and she froze where she stood, her whole being filled with dread and horror.

No, it couldn't be. Trembling, she turned carefully, following the sound of the oh too familiar voice and saw him, standing with his friends, enjoying the day, drinking, and so very alive.

Impossible!

He was dead! She had killed him!

Was it all a dream? ... or rather a nightmare, a little voice at the back of her head whispered.

"Oh Sigyn! Darling, come here!"

Was he calling her? So not an hallucination? Not a ghost?

Step by step, she joined the group, and jumped a little, when Theoric's warm hands slid around her waist.

"There you are, sweetpie. How I've missed you!", he said loud enough for his friends to hear, while leaving a line of kisses down her neck. The soldiers were snickering, while Sigyn was shacking in horror and disgust.

Then, she felt a warmth surrounding her, and she turned her head enough to see Theoric's eyes.

Ah. They were not brown, but a stormy deep blue.