Fidelity

A Good King, A Weak Father

            Two months passed in which I made nightly visits to the dungeons. In this time, Loki had suffered through many more punishments besides having his lips sewn together. His punishments varied in intensity, depending on Odin’s mood towards his son that day. The worst, by far, had been the night that Loki was taken by two guards who stripped his upper body of clothing, bent him over a table with his hands bound together, and let a whip tear into his back for what seemed like hours. That night, I sat in Loki’s cell and waited for his return. I could hear his screams echoing off the dungeon walls, despite being unable to open his mouth more than a few millimeters, and it was all I could do to stay there and endure it. When he returned, however, I held him and cleaned his wounds again, just as I had before.

            Far too many nights passed in this way, though none of them quite as intense as that one. However, one night that I will never forget, I came down into the dungeons to a surprise. As I approached the cell, I heard Loki’s voice, clear as day, breaking through the darkness. “Sigyn?” He called, his voice hoarse, but otherwise unhindered. At that, I quickened my pace down the corridor and nearly ran full force into the door. I gasped as I looked down at Loki, and he smiled widely, baring all of his teeth. I smiled back and fumbled the key around the keyhole to the door, closing it behind me as I fell to my knees in front of Loki. He laughed lightly and reached out to me, pulling me into his lap.

            “Loki,” I breathed, smiling as I ran my hands over his cheek, “When did this happen?”

            “Just last night, after you had left. Father came down and…well, he cut the threads. He didn’t say a word to me, but he cut the threads.” I smiled even wider and gently ran my thumb over his bottom lip, sighing when he kissed it. He reached up to grab my wrist, smiling at me again with his slightly bloodstained teeth and lips. He slowly lowered my hand, staring at me intently. “I want to kiss you,” he whispered, “Please, Sigyn. It’s been so long….”

            I immediately, shook my head at him, leaning closer. “You don’t have to ask,” I whispered, so close to him now that our lips brushed against each other as I spoke, “You never have to ask permission to kiss me.” And with that, I pressed my lips gently against his, only to be pulled closer by my neck. Within seconds, our kiss had turned into a sloppy battle of teeth, tongues, and lips. I could taste the dried blood still covering his wounds, but at the moment, I didn’t care. Loki groaned softly and pulled me onto his lap, his hands firmly around my waist. My hands involuntarily tangled in his matted, unkempt hair, and I was suddenly aware of the unbearable ache in the pit of my stomach. I pulled back slowly, a little confused by this new feeling. Loki’s eyes opened slowly as we both took long, deep breaths, and as our eyes connect, I could tell he was thinking the same thing. I made to shift myself in his lap, but his hands held me firmly in place.

            We looked at each other again, and something surreal passed between us. This was where our relationship had left off, before the accident on the Bifrost. We had never made it further than this, but now, it seemed that we may. Yet, this was all so sudden, that it actually frightened me to think of. Loki shifted forward, nuzzling his nose into my neck, and hugged me tightly to him. With the length of our bodies pressed together like this, I was very aware of the heat radiating off of both of us. “Sigyn,” he whispered softly, his cool breath tickling my skin, “I want to make you mine.”

            I hesitated, knowing what he was asking, but decided to feign ignorance. “I am yours,” I whispered, burying my face in his hair.

            I felt him place a lingering, warm kiss to my neck, and I shivered. “I mean to say that I want to make all of you mine. I want you, my darling.” I sighed and tilted my head, giving him more access as he kissed me again.