#& loki friggason 003. * emeraldxphoenix

[tempusetveritas]

@emeraldxphoenix sent: The god offers out his cupped hand, expression a mixture of mischief and earnestness. Within that hand is a large pile of stolen meal tokens. "Would you like some?"

Her eyes narrow, but something about that earnestness makes her lean forwards to see the contents of his hand. There's a beat of silence before she shakes her head, almost laughing as she glances back up to his face.

"I'm not gonna ask how you managed to get all of these, but I do wanna know - did you figure out how to get them before or after you got your magic back?"

[victoriousfidelity]

@emeraldxphoenix said: "Don't go into this lightly. If you're mine, you need to understand I will burn the fucking world to the ground for you." forbidden love and starcrossed quotes. | accepting.

"Did you have one in mind?" Sigyn asks, and though her tone is all innocence the look in her eyes is nothing short of mischievous as she holds his gaze. "A world, I mean. Is there a particular one of the Nine you'd raze to the ground in my name?"

In spite of her teasing, when she takes his hands she does so gently. She knows he means it; for a God so often known for the untruths he speaks, his moments of honesty are bright, burning things.

(Sigyn is beginning to realise that she is the recipient of more of these moments than most.)

"Loki," She starts again, her words softer and more serious now. "Do you think I am going into this lightly? Because I can assure you, I am not. Do you think I would do any of this, if I did not wish to be yours?"

[victoriousfidelity]

Her smile widens as he replies exactly the way she expected him to, but when he continues to speak - open and vulnerable in a way that makes her heart ache - her expression softens. He's so gentle with her in this moment, one of so many private moments they've managed to snatch within this more secluded area of the palace gardens, that it's almost like he expects her to flinch away from his touch - even though she's never done so, not in all the years they've known one another.

That soft, serious air remains as she watches his thoughts linger on his doubts, his fears. She's known him long enough now - and well enough, more importantly - that she's able to read the miniscule way his expression shifts as the bitter voices of those who have belittled him ring out in his mind, or his own thoughts turn against him.

He's so close that she could kiss him, and under other circumstances that would be exactly how she chose to distract him from those spiralling thoughts. But she wants to know what he's thinking. She always does, but that's especially true where this is concerned - where they are concerned.

Had they gone about this in the expected way, their parents would probably have agreed to the match. There's a lot of sense in pairing them together, in uniting two Realms through their clever secondborn children who each possess an aptitude for wielding Seiðr.

But that's decidedly not what they have done. Their relationship has been conducted on their own terms, secretive and wholly theirs - a choice born of a need to have something which is untainted by the politics of their Realms, or the gossip of the courts, or the interference of their families. And though their secret relationship had become a secret engagement in a moment of pure spontaneity, Sigyn had meant the yes she gave in response with all her heart.

"And what if what I desire is you?" She asks him, her free hand reaching to take hold of his wrist lightly, stopping him from drawing his hand away from her face once he no longer holds that lock of her hair between his fingers. "The future that lies ahead for your is one with me standing beside you, Loki - whatever else may come. How many more years will I have to love you for, before you realise that I wish to be yours precisely because I see you?"

Doubts have haunted him since they last spoke. The ghosts of his words lingering about him, transformed into ghouls that mock, and belittle, and force down into the rightful place. Who is he to want her, to claim her? A prince of Asgard yes, but an outcast in his own home, disappointing, unmanly. Surely she can’t have meant it when she gave her consent to be his wife. Surely she can’t have understood what she was consigning herself to.

But Sigyn gazes up at him, with those beautiful eyes sparkling with mischief, and takes his moment of passion so completely in her stride that he feels himself falling even deeper. Loki’s forearm presses against the stone wall beside her head as he leans closer, not touching the goddess despite his skin crawling with the desire to. His heart thuds in his chest.

“Any of them. All of them. Whatever you desire.” The trickster’s heartbeat only quickens at the feel of her hand in his. Somewhere behind them the sun breaks free from its prison of clouds, but for Loki there is only the space between them, the pink of her lips, the red of her hair. He reaches out the fingers not holding hers to catch at a stray strand.

“I find it hard to believe you understand the future that lies ahead for me, and still wish for a part in it. I cannot comprehend how you can see me and still wish to be mine.” Tender fingers tuck the loose hair behind her ear. “What else am I to conclude, other than you are going into this lightly, and that it cannot last?”