Sigyn: Can't Just Let You Fall

Bride

There was a sharp intake of breath as the queen of the gods took in the image of beauty before her. "You look perfect."

Sigyn allowed herself a small, sad smile. She was astonishingly beautiful all in bridal white; such a gown as belonged to princesses, a snowy veil thrown back over her glossy masses of dark chocolate hair, a small, innocent bouquet of pure white flowers. As long as you didn't look too closely, she looked just the part of the bride. As long as you didn't look too closely, as long as you didn't see the tears in her eyes just waiting to be cried. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Oh, dearest," Frigga said impulsively, and she held the young woman close in her arms. "It'll be okay," she replied, not to the words spoken, but to the shaking of Sigyn's body against hers.

"I just - want it - so - but it won't be - right - because - he -" All the words came out in a single sobbing breath.

Frigga pulled away, holding her at arms' length. "Don't cry. Please don't. You'll ruin all the good work the maids have done."

Sigyn nodded. Took a deep breath. Composed herself as best she could. She met Frigga's eyes, sudden intensity in her brown ones. "I love him, you know that? That's why this is so hard; it's such an awful parody of what I could have had if only - if only he cared that way." Or any way, she added to herself.

"Of course I know - I never doubted it, dearest. And maybe he'll learn to love you, afterwards - it does happen in these arranged marriages. It's what happened when I became Odin's wife." Her eyes were full of concern.

It was all she could do to stifle a mildly hysteric laugh. Loki love her? Never. It was impossible. She was just a noble girl, and this marriage purely of - of - purely a matter of business. Any words had to be forced out of her dry throat. "Yes, perhaps," she croaked stiffly.

Queen Frigga gave her one more look-over, fixing where the veil had caught, and kissed her solemnly on the forehead. "Be good to him. He has a good heart truly."

"I know," she replied softly, "I love him."

*

It passed in a blur, the ceremony. The only moment she really remembered was the final vows of an Asgardian wedding.

"And do you, Loki, son of Odin and prince of Asgard, agree to take Sigyn, daughter of Thana*, as your wife?"

Just the way he looked down at the floor pierced her heart as much as any arrow. The way his voice sounded like that of a mumbling, rebellious child who did not want to be there. "Yes, I agree."

  It cut her. The way he said it like he was being forced into it. Like he felt nothing for her. Like he would rather be in the frozen wastes of Jötunheim than there. All of which were probably true.

  "And you, Sigyn, daughter of Thana, agree to take Loki, son of Odin and prince of Asgard, as your husband?"

  She fought not to hesitate but she did anyway. She loved him, yes, she wanted to be his wife, yes, but... Not like this. Not for the sake of politics. Not when he didn't love her.

  But there was only one answer she could give. "Yes, I agree."

  There was a pause, an expectant hush. A rosy pink blush spread over her deathly pale face as she realised. They expect him to kiss me!

  Loki realised it a moment later, pulling her close and kissing her. It was slightly awkward with how forced the movement was. His lips, as his skin always was in the brief moments they had touched, were unnaturally cold. The audience applauded and they broke apart as soon as they could.

  Yet Sigyn couldn't help the butterflies.

*

She stood on the balcony, hands gripping the railings so hard her knuckles went white, drinking in the cold night air like a drowning man gasping for breath. That was how she felt in there. Drowning, suffocating. It was too much to handle; the smiles, the festive air, the congratulations. Loki.

"Sigyn."

Speak - or rather, think - of the devil.

He looked cool and sophisticated, as always. So different to his brother, the warrior Thor, Loki was clever, and charming, and irresistible.

"L-Loki." She inwardly cursed her voice for shaking with words a young noblewoman - princess, now, she supposed - shouldn't even know. "I was just going back inside -"

"No, stay... Please." He raised a hand briefly, not in an aggressive way, but with quiet authority that made her lean back against the railing. "Are you alright, Sigyn?"

The use of her name sent a shock through her system that made her temporarily unable to speak. He'd only ever called her 'my lady' before. After a short pause, she replied, "Ah, yes, yes, I'm fine. Of course." She attempted a smile and burst into tears.

His green eyes widened silently in shock as he stepped forward, uncertain of his own actions, awkward, not knowing how to react. "Sigyn?" he asks softly. "What is it?"

  What did she have to lose? What could hurt more than this? "I love you," she whispered through her tears. Ruining the makeup the maids had worked so hard to perfect. "And you don't love me, and we're married, and..." She looked away.

  He pulled back. Just slow enough not to permit the use of the word recoiled. "Oh," he said, the word barely distinguishable from an exhalation of breath.

  "Oh? Is that all you have to say?" She didn't know whether to cry more, laugh hysterically, or just run away. Or maybe just jump over the edge of the balcony. That sounded okay.

  "What do you want me to say?" he asked helplessly, his tone still infuriatingly soft.

  "A million things, all of which would be lies." Edge of the balcony. The more she thought about it, the better it sounded.  "Just... Forget I said anything.  Could you get me a... A napkin or something from the banquet?"

  "Of course," he said, his lovely voice still calm, still with that hint of concern.

  He had turned. I can't live with this. I can't be his wife if he doesn't love me. She would miss Frigga, who had been lovely to her. She would miss Freyja, who had taken her in as one of her ladies, who was like a sister to her. She would miss Thor, Sif, the Warriors Three, her friends. She would miss Loki, who she loved. But it would be for the best if she was gone. A short mourning period, and then she would be swiftly forgotten. Nobody would miss Sigyn.

  Still in her beautiful wedding dress, which belonged to a fairytale princess, and one of the innocent white bouquet flowers in her dark chocolate hair, she slipped over the side, arms raised above her head.

  The sensation of falling was only for a moment, and then with a jerk of fierce pain in her shoulder she realised her fall had been stopped. She looked up, even though she knew what she'd see. Loki's hand firmly gripping her slender wrist. "Let go of me!" she cried, tears of frustation and pain springing to her eyes.

  He shook his head, straining to pull her back up as he slowly did. He caughter her up and set her down on the cold stone of the balcony. "What were you thinking?" he whispered.

  She closed her eyes. "I don't know," she replied honestly.

  "Don't do that again." Were those tears? From Loki? "I... I don't love you that way, Sigyn, and I'm sorry, but I can't just let you fall."

So thanks for reading this, next part coming soon! Originally this was just going to be a couple of shorts but I've decided to go for it and just write a whole story! We'll see how it goes, I guess.

~ ICTOAUN