#v. i need my golden crown of sorrow. ( queen of vanaheim au )

[victoriousfidelity]

Since bringing Loki to Vanaheim, Sigyn has walked a careful line as she attempts to bridge the distance which now exists between them; not forcing her company on him, but making sure he knows that she wants to be around him, always giving him choices as she gently tries to prove that he doesn't simply have to agree to what he thinks she wants from any given conversation.

The only time that she has used this new deference to her status for her own gain was to convince him to finally eat something, and though the manipulation filled her with still-lingering guilt she cannot bring herself to regret it. None of this is easy, but it is necessary. She wants to help him - she promised Frigga that she would help him. No matter how hard it is, or how long it takes.

It has quickly become routine for her to make her way to his rooms whenever she has time, and as she leaves a particularly tedious meeting with some of her advisors she finds herself walking the familiar route through palace corridors which brings her to his door. When her knock receives no answer, the first threads of worry start to tighten around her heart. He has always answered her, even if only because he believes that he has to.

The door opens at her touch, and when she steps inside she is met with darkness. Since the very first time she'd come here, the Queen has been able to feel Loki's Seiðr in the air around them - she still knows him well enough that she has her suspicions as to what he's been using it to hide, but she hasn't pushed the matter. As her gaze falls upon the shape of him in the shadows, curled up on the bed, she wishes that she had.

"Loki?"

plotted starter for @emeraldxphoenix

[victoriousfidelity]

Sigyn is still not entirely recovered from the attempted poisoning, but she hides it well. Her duties have been scaled back while she recovers, with anything which can wait until she is well again being put on hold entirely. This meeting could not wait.

While her council is predominantly now made up of members of her own choosing, there are still a few on it with whom she regularly disagrees; holdovers from her mother's reign, kept both for their knowledge on specific matters and because she does not wish to merely surround herself with sycophantic courtiers. But these same faces are the ones she expects pushback from where Loki is concerned - they disagreed with her decision to bring him here in the first place, and have made a point of disagreeing with everything involving him since. Their Queen giving her husband explicit permission to deal with the threat to her life himself went down predictably poorly.

The comment which precedes Loki's arrival is made in response to Lord Harbard's insincere query as to whether she was truly well enough to have made such a decision, and her tone is as dry as the look she exchanges with one of her more agreeable advisors. Her gaze is quickly drawn towards the door upon the sound of it opening; there is only one person who would enter unannounced, so she is not as surprised as some when Loki enters the room.

While her council make various exclamations regarding the obvious contents of the sack he carries, Sigyn finds her attention drawn immediately to the injuries he bears. The fact she knows he would happily have endured far worse in the name of keeping her safe does little to quell the anxious guilt she feels at the sight.

Before she has the chance to reply, Harbard shoots to his feet - clearly thinking he has found the perfect way to prove his own point as he declares: "Your majesty, you simply cannot allow this. There are proper channels which must be—"

"Enough." The Queen instructs, blue eyes hard as they settle upon the indignant advisor. "For the sake of your years of service to the Realm, I will overlook the fact that - today alone - you have twice seen fit to question my judgement. But I will not allow you to undermine the fact that my husband has, in a matter of days, succeeded where the proper channels failed. I heeded your advice for months, and it almost cost me my life. You are lucky I have not concluded that you were somehow involved."

She turns her attention to other members of her council then. "Have the remains dealt with, and make it known how the culprit was apprehended. Now please, leave us."

The council disperses, with the majority moving to do as she has asked; the man who takes the sack from Loki is not the only one to mutter thanks and congratulations to the Consort as he leaves. Harbard exits the room in embarrassed silence. And meanwhile, Sigyn pushes herself to stand - leaning on the table to support herself for a moment, before walking to stand before Loki just as the door closes behind the departing advisors.

"You're hurt."

@victoriousfidelity said “   The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”

As the timing of entrances go, it’s pretty spectacular. The Queen’s council sits around its usual table, Sigyn herself at its head as she, typically, manages to see the good even in attempted murder ( – the same kindness and strength that meant she saw the good even in a disgraced frost giant). And then Loki enters – not a council member but permitted entrance as per the Queen’s prior instruction – the conclusion to these assassination attempts contained within the sack he has clutched in one hand.

Attention shifts to him of course, various flavours of outrage passing across old men’s faces, confusion across some, concern across his wife’s. Before she, or any of them, can speak, the trickster strides forwards, black boots marking confident steps across the polished floor. Violet blooms across his cheekbone, and he really needs to speak to a healer about the angle of one of his fingers, but delivering this information could not wait.

“Your majesty. Council.” A respectful bow to his wife, and inclination of the head to the others present. Many of them are not on the best terms, but at this moment Loki couldn’t care less about political squabbles. “It is my pleasure to inform you that the source of the assassination attempts has been discovered. He will present no further problems.”

[victoriousfidelity]

It had been a few days since the latest attempt on the Queen's life. Though she had not consumed the entirety of the poison, enough had passed her lips for her to feel the effects of it in the immediate aftermath: dizziness, nausea, difficulty breathing.

Even after the healers' quick intervention, it would be a stretch to claim there had been no lingering impact; she'd been bedbound since, watched over by a rotating collection of healers and handmaidens - predominantly her sisters, where the latter was concerned - as her husband searched for the culprit.

Much in the same way that her sisters had always occupied a more privileged position than most within her court, Sigyn had always ensured that Ophelia was given those same privileges. They had been friends all those years ago, when she was training to be a healer on Asgard, and she'd proven her trustworthiness time and again since coming to Vanaheim at the Allmother's behest.

When she awoke to find that it was her at her bedside now, she wasn't surprised - though it took her a moment longer than it should have done to be able to focus enough that she could tell.

"You're the latest to have drawn the short straw, then." Ordinarily the humour would have been apparent in her words, but Sigyn's voice was far too quiet and hoarse for it to truly come across.

inbox inspired starter for @theresastargirl (inspo)

[victoriousfidelity]

@emeraldxphoenix said: "By your side is where I'm meant to be." in case you didn't know. | accepting.

She smiles down at them as they lie with their head resting against her abdomen, her fingers idly toying with the end of one of the braids scattered through her husband's long, dark hair. But there's an uncertainty in her gaze that she knows they pick up on purely from the slight upward quirk of their eyebrows, and she sighs. Odin and his delegation's visit is imminent now, and while everything is in order on both practical and political levels, it is the personal aspect which gives Sigyn pause.

She's managed to maintain good diplomatic relations with Asgard for six years, now, in spite of avoiding allowing such visits to take place. Loki's peace of mind took precedence - will always take precedence - and she would never for a moment have even entertained the idea of inviting Odin to the very place she had brought them in order to keep them safe from him. So she's attended any events where the Allfather would likely be present without her husband at her side, and denied him invitations to Vanaheim.

Because she may be a Queen, but she is also a wife.

Loki thrives here, and she's been reluctant to do anything which would jeopardise that. But after a long stretch of time in which they and Frigga had exchanged letters, Sigyn had gently asked whether they'd like to invite their mother to visit - and thank the Norns for Frigga, because when she'd arrived in Vanaheim it was like she immediately, instinctively validated every single choice Loki has made.

It had been exactly what they had needed - what they'd both needed, if she was being honest with herself. She'd always adored the Allmother, and having her support again was nothing short of a relief. That visit, coupled with the fact that Loki is currently high in the Vanir court's favour after thwarting an assassination attempt against their Queen, is what prompted the invitation to be extended to the Asgardian delegation. But she's still nervous; still worried she's risking her family's happiness for the sake of her Realm, and struggling to reassure herself.

"I know that you mean that - and I love you for it... But are you certain?" Sigyn is trying to approach this delicately, not wanting to plant any additional doubts in their mind, or make them think that she doubts their ability to cope with seeing Odin again.

"Even if you are certain now, you can change your mind once they're here; you only have to do what you want to do. I will make your excuses, and I will not have a word said against you in my halls - nor will anyone else." Her hand moves away from their hair, fingertips gently tracing their cheek. "You are far more important than anything else, my love. You know that, don't you?"

[victoriousfidelity]

@emeraldxphoenix sent: [ hair ] sender sits in the receiver's lap so that the receiver can style or just play with their hair in peace. sitting in someone's lap prompts. | accepting.

The Queen dismisses her ladies as soon as Loki appears at her door, tentative in a way that she would once have never thought to see them. Since then they have sat in silence, more or less, with Loki on the edge of the bed closest to her as she sits at her vanity to finish preparing for bed.

It is so strange, to be in the same space as one another again and for it not to feel... Comfortable. Things are certainly better than they were when Loki was first brought to Vanaheim, and the fact that they have chosen to come to her rooms - to be in her company rather than sit alone with their thoughts - is proof enough of that fact. But there remains a distance between them which she still searches for ways to cross.

As she ties off her braid she catches their eye in the mirror, and what she sees in their gaze surprises her. For once the haunted cast seems to have lifted from their eyes, and in place of it she sees... Want, perhaps? She hesitates for just a moment before making a decision, picking up the brush and coil of linen yarn as she stands.

Sigyn walks across the room to sit behind them on the bed, not wishing to startle them. She knows that touch is still a difficult thing for them, but it feels important that she tries this. Careful hands lift to move Loki's hair so that it falls down their back, the inky curls far longer than she ever remembers seeing them before.

"Is this alright?" She asks quietly, waiting for an answer before she does anything else.

[victoriousfidelity]

@emeraldxphoenix sent: [ throne ] having found the receiver sitting in their throne, the sender sits in their lap in order to symbolically and physically share the seat. sitting in someone's lap prompts. | accepting.

The Queen looks up when she hears someone enter the throne room, her expression one of apprehension. Her day thus far has been filled with the more irritating aspects of queendom, and she is tired. So when blue eyes fall upon Loki, her expression melts into one of warm relief.

"Elskan mín, you are a sight for sore eyes." She smiles, holding a hand out - and that's all it takes for them to know what she needs. They settle on her lap, a knee on either side of her hips, and Sigyn lets one hand settle on their waist while the other rises to cup their beautiful face.

"Please tell me you've come to rescue me from the tedium of mediating arguments between my advisors."

[victoriousfidelity]

@emeraldxphoenix said: "Tell me I'm yours." 'tell me' rp meme. | accepting.

Loki is lying on her front, arms folded beneath her head, watching her with the kind of searching gaze that Sigyn has become used to being on the receiving end of, in these quieter moments. She rolls onto her side, a hand moving to Loki's back. Her fingertips trace down the soft curve of her spine as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder.

"You are mine. You are always mine. My love. My Loki. I don't ever want you to doubt that."

[victoriousfidelity]

When word first reaches Vanaheim of the events on Asgard - Thor's interrupted coronation and banishment, Odin's incapacitation, Loki's ascension and swift descent into what the Realms are calling madness - Sigyn feels her blood run cold.

Her advisors call for her to use this unrest to their advantage, and their Queen can see their point, but she'd called Asgard home for such a long time, considered Thor to be her friend... And had been betrothed to Loki, before her life's path had diverted from the one they had planned to walk together.

It's that last fact which burns in her mind as she travels to Asgard to meet with Odin.

The two monarchs bargain and debate over Vanaheim's fealty to him as Allfather for hours, and it is clear from the off that Odin expected this to be easy. But Sigyn is not cowed by him, and she has always been a shrewd diplomat and a confident negotiator. Now that she is Queen of Vanaheim - now she has things that he needs - her confidence in facing him is a thing to behold.

In the end, terms are agreed. In exchange for the people of Vanaheim continuing to recognise the Allfather's authority over even that of their own Queen, they will receive an increased presence during inter-Realm diplomatic discussions which concern them. In exchange for their assistance in rebuilding the Bifröst, the Vanir will receive aid in defending their Realm's eastern border, which has been beset by marauders in the aftermath of the bridge's destruction.

Sigyn's final term is a personal one, but is framed as a benevolent act to relieve the Allfather of one of his more pressing issues. Odin cannot allow Loki to retain his status in Asgard after what he did, but Frigga will not condone consigning her son to a life locked away as the Æsir's shameful secret. Sigyn offers them an alternative, one hinging upon the fact that her betrothal to Loki was never formally dissolved.

And Odin accepts it.

Without the Bifröst, travel between Asgard and the other Realms is reliant upon Odin wielding old, complex magic. One of the outcomes of this is that it means that the time between the decision being made and her actually returning to Vanaheim with Loki is incredibly brief - which means she doesn't have time to speak to him, before it happens.

He is not coming with us as our prisoner, she insists to the advisors who accompanied her to Asgard, and she is thankful that none of them question her.

Not only have her advisors known her for her whole life, but she is also acutely aware that the fact that they know Loki is likely working in her favour here. They remember the young Prince who was adored by their second Princess, and Sigyn is relieved that they understand her decision now.

There are other titles which she has possessed since long before she held the title of Queen, and the Goddess of Fidelity won't abandon someone she loved - someone she loves.

Rooms are prepared for Loki - the very rooms he used to stay in when he visited Queen Freyja's halls when he was younger. He is not heavily guarded, and no restrictions are placed upon his power. Sigyn trusts him, even after all this time. Even now.

And from a less sentimental perspective: he is injured and (she presumes) still mentally reeling from everything that has happened to him. He's hardly in much of a state to cause any serious trouble.

A few hours after their arrival in Vanaheim, Sigyn finally manages to extricate herself from discussions with her advisors. She needs to speak to him, alone, and it can't wait any longer. She regrets having had to make him wait at all.

When she comes to stand outside the door to the rooms he has been placed in, she hesitates. She doesn't feel like a Queen, now. She just feels like a girl who has loved somebody for almost her entire life, and is trying to find a way to help them.

Sigyn raises her hand, and knocks on the closed door. Her voice is gentle, just loud enough to be heard.

"Loki? It's Sigyn." No titles, just her name. "May I come in?"

surprise(ish) starter for @emeraldxphoenix

[victoriousfidelity]

@emeraldxphoenix asked: "How long are you going to make me wait?" sensual and sexual tension sentence quotes. | accepting.

He's been trying to lure her away from the papers in front of her for the better part of the evening, but it is only once he's standing behind her that she finally relents.

"Norns, you will be the death of me." She mutters, but even as she's feigning annoyance she's leaning back against him as he braces his hands on the arms of the chair she's in, tilting her head up and back in order to meet his gaze.

"Fine, my love, you have my attention. Now, what are you going to do with it?"

[victoriousfidelity]

verse drop, 3/7 (mcu au verses).

[victoriousfidelity]

@aidanwilde sent: 🎵🎵 i want TWO. gimme one that you associate with sig and one for sigaidan lol for every 🎵 i get i'll post a song i associate with my muse. | accepting.

Queendom - AURORA

The sea waves are my evening gown And the sun on my head is my crown I made this queendom on my own And all the mountains are my throne

Someone Else's Hands - The Coronas

And I'm sorry but now I have to go You know we got too close and I hope you understand That I can't give you all the things you want You know my heart belongs In someone else's hands

[victoriousfidelity]

verse drop, mcu aus.

[victoriousfidelity]

Her eyes drift closed for barely a second as her husband's lips touch her forehead, and she allows herself a brief moment of weakness. She has weathered these attempts with stoicism and calm - the unshakeable Queen of the Vanir - but this time her would-be assassin has come too close.

She knows that Loki would stay, if she asked them to. She knows that if she let how much this has truly shaken her show on her face, they would refuse to leave her side no matter how much they may crave retribution. But Sigyn also knows that they've only been held back from pursuing the culprit before now by her - her requests to let things be handled properly. She's not going to stand in their way any more. She trusts Loki more than anyone. She should have let them take care of this from the beginning.

"Go." Sigyn reiterates softly, before adding: "I love you."

It's Hnoss who takes up their position when they leave, and the Queen's brave face slips back into place as soon as she sees her younger sister's wide-eyed concern. But even with the continuing attention of the palace's healers, it becomes increasingly difficult for her to hide the fact that she is feeling the effects of the poison: the room spins, and she feels feverish and lightheaded. By the time that she is moved to her chambers and given a draught to allow her to sleep through the worst of the aftermath, the temporary oblivion it grants her is a blissful reprieve.

She doesn't know how long passes like this, drifting between dreamless sleep and not-quite-wakefulness, watched over by healers and handmaidens. But at some point her eyes open to find a different figure sitting at her bedside, and the ghost of a smile crosses her features.

"Loki," Sigyn manages, her voice weak but her relief at seeing them no less genuine for it.

@victoriousfidelity (literally ages ago) said: “I’ll be okay, just go.”

Eyes flick down, gaze sharp, taking in the Queen’s flushed cheeks and hazy eyes, her red curls against their lap. Loki snarls, frustration echoing in their throat and tensing their fingers, the wolf of revenge rearing its head within him and baying for blood. Sigyn may have avoided the worst, cup knocked from her hand before she could consume it all, but the poison still breached every defence to pass her pretty lips. 

They want to stay, but know they will not be able to help more than the healers that already surround them, and Sig knows them well enough to recognise the hunger within them to pursue the perpetrator. Mouth curls, angrily, as the Consort bends down to press a kiss to their Queen’s forehead. “I will make them wish their mother had never birthed them.”

Then Loki is sitting up, gesturing for one of Sigyn’s sisters to take their place. The moment they’re free, the trickster twists into the familiar aspect of a black eagle and takes off, intent upon the prey it hunts. These attempts on her life will end, and they will do so soaked in blood and vengeance.

[victoriousfidelity]

Sigyn would raze worlds to the ground in the name of protecting Loki. It is a trait which she must be careful to keep in check, balancing her status as Queen of Vanaheim with the fierce love she holds for her trickster. And, aside from the significant occasion in which she stood before the Allfather arguing for Loki's safety, she has managed to ensure that balance fairly well thus far.

But in moments like this, when there are tears in her beloved's eyes and a catch in her words, it is difficult not to give in to the desire to punish those members of her own court who dare to place such thoughts of unworthiness in Loki's mind (or to amplify the ones which are already there).

"Kærasta," Sigyn whispers, shifting to draw Loki away from the pillow and into her arms, letting her bury her face against her neck as her fingers move to gently stroke through ink-black curls. "You are everything to me - my love, my life, my heart."

A kiss, lingering and tender, is pressed against her hair. "I love you. I've always loved you. I will always love you. Don't you know by now, ástin mín, that there is nothing in this Realm or any other which can change that?"

Loki knows she shouldn’t let the words get to her, but sometimes she can’t help it. Sometimes emerald eyes catch poorly concealed sneers, dismissive glances, comments about the one body part that is apparently the only reason for her presence here ( – which ironically enough, she doesn’t currently possess – ) and she loses herself in Odin’s confession of her monsterhood. Doubts curl around her heart then; fears about her own usefulness, about the limitations of Sigyn’s care for her, about how long it will be before she loses this home too.

They slip out without permission, those fears, in the quietness of lamplight and silk sheets; into the vulnerable space between them, offered up to the only person who has the power to crush them beneath her heel. As always, Sigyn somehow understands.

“Tell me again.” There are tears threatening in the god’s eyes as her back arches into the caress, a sudden ravenous desperation to be known, loved, owned, treasured sweeping over her so powerfully she nearly sobs. “Show me. Show me I’m yours.”

[victoriousfidelity]

Once, she'd not have waited for him to grant her admittance to these rooms. Both here and in Asgard, they'd long ago fallen into the habit of keeping their doors open to one another - even if their magic barred entry to everyone else. It feels like a lifetime since then, since they'd been close to inseparable as they planned for a future that never came.

Now she listens for a response which she fears, for a moment, will not come. There's no hesitation once she hears his voice, though; Sigyn opens the door and walks inside, closing the door behind her again before turning to face him. As she turns she sees the untouched food, the fact that nothing else in the room seems to have been disturbed either. He stands in the far corner, and for a moment the distance between them feels utterly insurmountable.

She wants to embrace him. She wants to close that distance between them, and pull him close, and not let him go again. It isn't the fact that she is now Queen that stops her, but rather the simple fact that she is not certain he would want her to. Sigyn has adored Loki for as long as she can remember, but in this moment it is almost as though they are strangers - and that hurts.

His Seiðr lingers in the air, and the sensation of it is as familiar to her as his touch would be - and while she has her suspicions as to what it has been used for, she doesn't call him out on it. Not yet, at least.

"Don't," The word leaves her when he bows to her, before she thinks to stop herself. Her tone makes it a gentle request, though, rather than a command. "Please, don't stand on ceremony with me. I'm sorry that I made you wait here alone; it was not what I intended to have happen after we arrived."

Frigga had been the bearer of the news. She – the woman he had once called mother, who now was not and yet could never be anything but mother to him – had knocked on the door with gentle surety, and then had the kindness to wait for him to open it rather than simply let herself in. Odin had always just let himself in, but not her. The compassion cut deeper than the knives Loki had concealed beneath torn curtains. He didn't deserve it, not any of this; a monster is not entitled to respect, to tenderness – and yet Frigga offered it to him anyway. He despised it. 

Still, Loki made use of that moment. A flash of green eyes cleared the floor of blood and broken glass, and a golden glamour shimmered into existence to conceal sunken eyes, matted hair, and self-inflicted wounds. Mo– Frigga will have known that he was hiding, but hopefully she believed it merely a prideful presentation choice and nothing more. Whatever she surmised from her shrewd gaze when she entered, the goddess chose not to share with him – instead she had embraced him, named him son, and told him of his fate. Marriage. Banishment, in all but name. She called it a kindness, a relief, but Loki merely wished that Odin had chosen to execute him. It’s what is supposed to happen to creatures like him, after all.

For him, however, there was no such release. There was only continued confinement to his rooms, trunks for him to pack his belongings in ( – he packed nothing, he has no right to any of it – ) and awkward, stifled visits from not-family who no longer, aside from Frigga, knew how to look him in the eye. Sigyn didn’t visit. Loki didn’t blame her. The only glimpse he received of her was as they were leaving, the Queen exchanging final words with Thor while Asgard’s guards escorted the trickster to the gathered Vanaheim delegation and gladly washed their hands of him. Loki of Asgard no more.

So now he waits, alone in the rooms he used to stay in as a prince, and methodically cuts away at illusion-flesh. No guards wait outside the door beyond what a royal family might expect for protection. No wards upon the doorway prevent his exit, or restrain his magic. But none of it matters: Loki has nowhere else to go. Instead he will remain, seated on the floor in the far corner of the room, ignoring the food left for him on the table ( – he hasn’t eaten since he failed even at dying – ) and waiting for the arbiter of his fate to pay him a visit. They were friends once. He doesn’t have the strength of mind to hope that will make her kind.

A knock on the door. How long has he been sitting here? It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Loki, it’s Sigyn. May I come in? She has Frigga’s compassion. It makes Loki want to tear his hair out. A swift twist of his hand and the bloodied knife is returned to his pocket dimension; a flash of magic and the same glamour he used earlier settles upon his skin. He looks well, healthy, Æsir. What’s one more lie to add to the many coiling around his heart?

He rises gracefully to his feet. “You may.” She enters then, the woman he loves – no: loved, because surely frost giants aren’t capable of love? – as beautiful as she ever was, wearing Queenship like she was made for it. Perhaps she was. Loki drops his gaze respectfully to the floor, falling back on long-learned lessons from the royal court. “My lady Queen. It is kind of you to visit.” A bow – because they are not equals anymore, in truth they never were – and the trickster falls silent, waiting for question, or instruction, or permission to speak. Why am I here? He wants to scream. You should have thrown me from the Bifrost. But he doesn’t. Instead he waits; waits for the Queen of Vanaheim to tell him what she wants with a mad and disgraced frost giant runt.