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Despite living in the same castle as Loki, Sigyn had only seen Asgard’s local troublemaker a few times. She had always admired him from afar, for the exciting adventures he always seemed to be on with his friends. She wished she could do such things, but she did not have the life of a prince. Really, she was blessed to even be permitted in these halls.
Sigyn was sweeping one of the vast dining rooms when a cluster of other maids rushed by her, laughing and whispering to each other like they were still in school.
“--probably let him off easy again.”
“What?! No way! Did you see the Allfather?”
“…Was pissed!”
Sigyn heard bits and pieces of their conversation. “What’s going on?” She asked, but they brushed past her, either not hearing or not caring.
So she followed them. She imitated them as they picked up pitchers of mead and platters of meat in the kitchen and headed off, noticing how busy it was. There was nothing planned today, so what would cause this sort of commotion?
As they headed into the auditorium, Sigyn found out exactly what was happening: the seats were filled with nobles and servant alike, crowding to get a good seat, a good spot, for what the Allfather had planned. The center walkway was clear, save for a few figures. She saw the squat figures of two dwarves, the honey blond head of Thor, and kneeling in front of him was the darker hair and armor of Loki.
Sigyn started passing out the plates in her hand to whoever grabbed for it first. The Allfather slammed Gungnir into the floor, silencing the crowd in seconds. She found herself frozen, both from his command and from curiosity. Gatherings were seldom like this, especially not ones that were such short notice.
“You knew the way of the dwarves, Loki.” Odin spoke. “You are a man now, and you will face the consequences of your actions like one.”
Loki did not respond, did not even lift his head to recognize the Allfather.
“Do what you will to him.”
The dwarves moved forward. One of them grabbed Loki’s arms and held them behind the prince’s back, and the other moved in front and grabbed his face. He had something in his hands, but from where Sigyn stood, she could not see what it was. The crowd leaned forward collectively, the volume once again rising.
Loki kicked out, pushing the dwarf back.
“Thor, hold him down!” Odin yelled over the din. She saw Thor hesitate, glancing between father and brother. And then he jumped into action, holding the younger prince’s legs down against the floor. Sigyn could still see him struggling, so much she had to fight to look at it. Should she say something? No, she couldn’t speak against the royal family like this.
When the deed was done, Loki did not move from the floor. People started clearing out, some jeering at him, some shuffling out like nothing had even happened. To her shame, Sigyn also left. She hoped that whatever happened wasn’t too bad.
Loki knew how many had seen what happened, but he still kept his head down on the floor until the crowds of his father’s peers had left. He didn’t want them to see any more. Thor rubbed a hand between his shoulder blades. It comforted him as much as it scared him. He didn’t want anyone to touch him, especially not Thor’s traitorous hands.
Loki pushed himself off of the floor. He could feel blood on his chin, blood in his mouth that he couldn’t spit out. He could see bright crimson smudges on the pristine floor. His vision blurred with tears, but he clenched his jaw, not letting them fall.
“My son,” Odin said to him. “I wish I did not need to resort to such methods for you. You are a bright young man, but I fear that brightness is your detriment at times.”
Loki turned to leave. He heard Thor call to him, try to apologize, and he broke into a sprint. It was hell on his mouth, but he ran until he had cleared the castle, until he had cleared the tree line of the forest. That was when he let himself cry. He held his jaw with his hands, trying to stop his mouth from moving from the force of his sobs.
He sat, resting his head against a warm rock. He regretted crying so much, because try as he might, it just aggravated the stitching and filled his mouth with more blood. But his breaths came out in great heaves. His nose was so stuffy it felt like he couldn’t breathe, and he wondered if he was going to die out here alone, choking on his own blood and tears.
He didn’t know if he passed out from the pain or if his mind just blocked it out, but he heard the sound of footsteps crunching through the brush. Aesir footsteps. Was it Thor? He wanted to be mad at Thor, but he was just tired. Loki tried to call out instinctively, forgetting that he couldn’t. He clenched a hand over his mouth, feeling more blood well up sluggishly.
And then he saw her.
A girl, likely no older than he was, making her way through the woods in a gown that he imagined would flow at her feet if it weren’t getting caught on every branch. She caught his eye and gave a small wave as she walked towards him. Had they met before? She was very pretty.
She crouched down in front of him. “Hi, I’m… I’m Sigyn. Someone said they saw you out here, earlier.”
And she decided to go out and find him, even after his punishment? She had to have known.
Sigyn reached out and trailed a hand over his cheek, slowly, like he was a scared animal. “Does that hurt?” She asked.
Loki shook his head slowly. He didn’t think he’d ever been touched so softly. Or was it just the pain making him think that?
“They’re barbaric.” The lady said. Her touch trailed down his jaw and neck, hovering gently at his shoulder, right above his armor.
Loki knew he should probably miss his ability to talk, but at that moment, he didn't. She had a soothing voice, low and steady in contrast to her soft appearance.
Sigyn pulled out a small pair of sewing scissors from a pocket. “Let me help you,”
Loki pulled back. She couldn’t do that. The dwarves and his father had agreed that the stitching would stay in for one week. If she cut the string, they would both be in trouble for it.
“Why not?”
Loki sighed. He conjured a paper and quill from his pocket dimension and explained it to her, print messy from his shaking hands.
“I see…” said Sigyn. Her lips thinned into a line, obviously disapproving of the decision. “Is there anything I can do, then?”
Why?
“I just want to help. I don’t want to stand by and be useless.”
Loki could understand that feeling. Besides, he knew there were a handful of people in this castle who liked the idea of him. No one he really knew, but servants or cooks or whatnot that thought he was a daring, mischievous hero instead of a two-faced coward. If she wanted to risk her good graces by helping him, it was her decision.
Very well.
It looks like someone has sent him a guardian angel.