[closed/complete]
Characters: Heimdall [vaticinio] & Sigyn [ascendre]
Date/Time: A long time ago, in Asgard.
Location: Bifrost
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Languageish.
Summary: Brisingamen gets stolen, and the results are not awesome.
Brísingamen.
He had stolen Freyja's prized possession (and part of Sigyn couldn't be prouder or more amused at the turn out of events). Admittedly things had been less amusing when the other Gods gathered together and debated what to do. In that moment Sigyn had come to realize just how much some of them resented the Trickster, and how they wanted him punished, exiled or killed. The young goddess was certainly taken aback, then feared for Loki's well-being, and finally raged at her inability to at least warn him.
And though they called on her to answer for his actions, Sigyn could give no explanation- she didn't ask Loki why he did things, nor did she ever expect to be informed beforehand of his pranks and games. Sure she was amused by them mostly, but dying over a necklace was not worth it- and certainly a punishment that did not fit the crime.
Not in Sigyn's opinion.
Waiting, she swallowed hard when it was decided that Heimdall should be the one to bring Loki back. That would not go well for her husband.
They had become rather distant with each other since her friendship with the Jotun ended up in marriage, and while Sigyn was more than happy in her marriage, she was not blind to the gap it was creating between herself and her fellow Aesir. One day, you won't have enough influence to protect him. Sigyn ignored that nagging thought, and braced herself for a meeting with Heimdall.
On a regular basis, Heimdall was not someone to thrifle with. Guardian of Asgard, keeper of Bifrost, the ever watchful, his list of titles went on and on if he cared to remember it. On a regular basis, he should not be angered. When he was, however, he became someone dangerous, tethering on the edge of violence and anger with just one push. This was such a situation.
Servants kept well away from their master as he prepared himself. Armor carefully slipped through his arms, each buckle tightened and pushed comfortably. Gjallarhorn rested on a chair nearby and the White God tried to ignore it as he moved. This time, it had been useless. Perhaps that was what bothered him the most. The simple fact that it had not been an outside enemy but someone inside, someone who was supposed to be family - not completely, he wouldn’t even come close to be such if Heimdall had anything to do with it. That was the problem. He had suspected ever since Loki’s games had brought harm to some of his relatives. But games were one thing and this was another entirely different.
This game would not end well for the Trickster. That, he had vowed before the All-Father.
He heard the servant before it had entered the hallway, wary steps as if trying not to bother the man. Useless but appreciated. In another moment, Heimdall would have praised the caution, the respect towards the ability which gave him no sleep at night, no careless rest. This time, however, he knew why the servant walked carefully. It brought bad news and bad news were an ill guest.
Heimdall needed no warning. Sigyn’s steps were easy to recognize, firmly imprinted in his mind since her creation. And who else would come to find him before his task? Of course she would, even if their friendship had withered and gone cold.
“My lord?”
The sword slid into its hilt, the last buckle tightened and Gjallarhorn grasped on his belt, if only for reassurance. Heimdall could feel the servant’s anxiety, the fear of a storm that was hitting Asgard without warning. This was why he guarded and this was he attempted to avoid. His anger seemed to grow with this knowledge.
“My Lord,” the woman continued. “Lady Sigyn is.”
“I am aware, Hrist. You have my thanks.”
Blunt and sharp and obviously lacking patience, he sped by her and followed until he knew where he would find the younger Goddess.
And while most of Asgard was wise to keep out of Heimdall's way, Sigyn still retained fond memories of being a child and keeping him company during the afternoons. Of stealing his food like a little pet, and making herself at home on his knee. Most wouldn't dare, but she did - though it wouldn't have mattered who she was facing, Sigyn would face anyone for the safety of her husband. No matter the cost, she had sworn an oath to Loki, that would be kept until Ragnarok.
She looked up to spot Heimdall in full battle armor- not something that was comforting- but still, there was something in her eyes which plainly said she was happy to see Heimdall. It was there for a moment before it was gone, buried beneath the task which was at hand, what she really had come here to do.
"Heimdall." She greeted, a small smile before reassuming her serious face.
It took some control for him not to sigh when she finally appeared. Welcomed, always welcomed, desired, perhaps but not then, not that day and not when before this task. Had he not been busy with more worrisome thoughts, Heimdall would have ordered his servants to tell her he was already gone. She could worry about her little husband then, instead of trying for an impossible task. The gatekeeper was no idiot. She had avoided his company for long and suddenly wished to reacquaint herself with him? No. Her visit had a purpose.
A shame he still held a soft spot for the little Goddess.
His head lowered slightly, a simple nod in respect. “Sigyn. I did not expect you,” he stated, lying through every golden teeth he carried. “Forgive me if I lack courtesy but I have been called. I cannot dally.”
He couldn’t and that was truth. But he most especially didn’t wish to. The seriousness didn’t match with the child he had known - definitely belonged to the woman she had become. She was there ready to battle, carrying tongue and mind like he carried a sword and armor. And this battle she would not win, so why fight? It would be better if Heimdall cut it short. Less would be hurt in this manner. Unless Sigyn could convince Loki to return Frejya’s possession and, for once, apologize and penance for his idiocy, he doubted she could do anything in that situation.
Sigyn would not be who she was if she did not at least try. No, she would not insult Heimdall's intelligence by pretending this was anything but a visit for Loki's well-being. In all honest-to-god truth it was probably easier to plea Heimdall to restrain himself, than to ask Loki to return the necklace. The goddess would not have asked that from her husband (though perhaps she had the right to do so).
The smile given at his words was certainly sad, "Come now, you know where Loki causes trouble, I follow." Like his fool, but it was not something Sigyn regretted at all, being happy with the trickster was worth it. "And this is not a time for courtesy, there is nothing to forgive." The goddess turned away, unable to look at the guardian, "I know you have to go."
Hurt was unavoidable in this matter, and though the girl's voice did not hesitate or waver, it was clearly pained. "Please, don't hurt him."
So obvious it hurt. Heimdall looked at her in silence, mulling over her words and knowing perfectly well what his reply would be. As much as she requested, as much as she begged, he could not go into battle with a wooden sword and expect Loki to do the same. It was not his way. In fact, it was probable that the other God was already ready and waiting. Perhaps with a trap, a traitorous one at that. Heimdall would not be surprised.
He shielded himself in his duty, what else to do? It was more important than himself, Sigyn, Loki and anything this discussion would touch. Eyes narrowed and he straightened, feeling the comforting pressure of his armor around him. Oddly, it was a battle, a true battle he was facing in that moment. It was best to be protected, even when not in danger.
“I cannot promise you that,” obviously. Heimdall took a step closer, touching her shoulder in what could have been considered a comforting gesture. “He knew what he was doing. He knew who he was angering. I cannot go to battle and expect him to simply turn himself in. If I don’t defend myself or attack.”
Loki would win, as simple as that.
Why. Gods, why had Loki picked Freyja's prized possession?
The hand on her shoulder caused Sigyn to swallow hard, physically and mentally pushing down any outburst of emotion. Instead she lifted her hand to grasp his own, giving it a firm squeeze. "Please, Heimdall." She tried again, "I know you cannot promise me, but I still trust you-" Even if it was difficult to say in this moment, Sigyn forced herself to continue, "-however, I also know your strength and your anger."
Loki knew what he was doing.
Who understood why her husband truly did what he did? Sigyn always saw it as part of his personality, and playing his games- sometimes they went wrong, but he did fix what he broke. Brisingamen's theft was a little too far, and both Gods in the room knew it. "Defend yourself, one would expect no less, but don't take him away from me. Please."
The tone shifted a little as she continued, fighting hard not to let too many emotions colour her tone. "Don't hurt him badly, just get back the necklace and let it be, please. No one should be hurt over this."
It took a lot of strength for the God to listen to her words and not cringe, not show any sign of discomfort or bitterness. This was her battleground and she did it well, against an opponent who was rather unarmed when facing her. Her touch was convincing, her words pitiable and Heimdall almost - almost - felt like giving in. It would be so easy, relatively speaking. He could do it, if he remembered the details later on. An earnest face, hope he had once deserved and his dislike shouldn’t matter, only his duty.
Heimdall savored her touch for one moment, one fleeting moment before drawing his own hand back. He would make no promises he could not keep and his arm was strong. If Loki pushed, he would push back. And Odin’s judgment awaited, one much harsher and deadlier than anything he might come up with.
“I will bring him alive,” not unharmed nor free, the implied words he didn’t bother to speak. “But you must know. You must keep in mind. Sigyn.” Heimdall lowered himself as to look at her eyes, serious as always, all lies ended because this much from him, she deserved. “I will not be the one to judge him. Frejya will. Odin will. They are above the both of us and it is unlikely they will let him go unpunished. Do not forget.”
Preparing her for the worst, that was all he could do.
Sigyn met Heimdall's eyes straight on, "Then I will plea to Odin, to Freyja, on my knees if I must." The words were soft but determined, she would not give up fighting for Loki, no matter how far she had to go. Withdrawing her hand, letting it drop limply by her side, it was only a minor indicator of how exhausted Sigyn was by this meeting.
It was hard, being married to someone like Loki. Well, no good thing was for free, and the work it was made it worth it. To her anyway.
"Thank you."
She gave him a genuine smile, reminiscent of a long time ago, when they both had been far more innocent and hopeful that now. Sigyn understood his warning, and appreciated it from deep down. Not many of the other Aesir would be so keen to offer any advice or warnings, not anymore. Not since it was clear Sigyn could not reign in Loki like most had hoped.
She was still innocent. Heimdall could see that just as well as any inside Asgard. To be able to ignore the strictness of Odin’s judgments, to believe he would be swayed. Frejya, perhaps. He knew the other Goddess would not willingly wish harm upon her relative, even if everything in her screamed for revenge. Odin was another ilk. If Sigyn felt hopeful with her plans, however, he wouldn’t be the one to tear them down. It was not his way to be uselessly cruel.
“Do not thank me, runt,” he said simply, keeping his thoughts light and away from the future. “I guess it is the least I can do for you. Not for him. For you. You have done nothing wrong.” Except to be connected to someone who dirtied every hall of Valhalla he chose to cross. Personal opinions though, not to be told.
He gave her a smile and everything around him was not important, they could be in Bifrost in that precise moment, or maybe just standing in one of Odin’s functions, commenting on the whole boredom of the situation they were forced into. For that moment, he was just himself and not the one who was charged to bring her husband to justice. They were friends and things were perfect.
“Well. Wish me luck, I will attempt to have him brought back by nightfall. Keep my dinner warm.”
A last smile and he was off, putting this encounter in the back of his head. This way, it would be easier not to pity or hesitate.
Of course Heimdall won, of course. Sigyn balled her hands into fists when Loki finally came home- and the state he was in. Alive, yes, but black and blue all over. (Or at least, that is how he would be in a few days, right now he was more or less a bloodied mess). Sigyn swallowed her anger with difficulty as she returned to Heimdall's home.
Loki was in good hands right now, she could afford an hour or so to come here, give Heimdall a piece of her mind, then go home. Long hair spilled behind her, dress from before- except now it was clearly wrinkled and just- her appearance was far from dignified.
However, such disheveled appearance showed just how angry she was. This time Sigyn didn't wait for the servants to announce her, making her way across a home she had once been familiar with.
"Heimdall!"
The gatekeeper had not moved for several hours, eyes glazed and absent for whatever conscious thought, listening to animals and herbs, to the hustle and bustle behind him. His injuries had been carefully wrapped and, on top of them, rested the lightest tunic he had found. No swords, no armor, no horn, those deserved also their time of respite and laid on the vanity inside the room.
One would have thought that wining would suddenly make his mood wide and bright. If Heimdall had managed to win without worries, to go and come back spotless and safe, that wouldn’t explain his annoyance. But the gatekeeper had had problems - as expected, he had battled an Aesir - and injuries were something he hadn’t been able to avoid. For someone who prized his strength and ability, it had been a hard blow.
He was ready to rest it all. Someone would watch Bifrost for a couple of days, Frejya had already attempted to make him decent and Odin, even the ruler had been more than ready to leave him to himself for a while. This was a good thing. Perfect. Only Heimdall couldn’t really change and the terrace had a lovely view of his usual guarding place.
Alone as he was, it wasn’t exactly complicated to realize that Sigyn was back in the house, as pleased as Frejya had been when stolen. And he didn’t want to deal with this. Shrugging the tunic into place, he didn’t bother to stand.
“Terrace, Sigyn. In the terrace.”
Or she could just scream from the hallways. He would hear and perhaps his sensitive hearing would not bring an added headache to his injuries.
Sigyn would not stand in the hallways and yell, it was not what she did. What she wanted was to look at the Bridge Guardian, to glare and grab his arm. Part of her (a very small one) was grateful it had not been worse for Loki, but regardless? This had certainly been worse than what was required. It took her a few minutes but she made her way to the terrace.
Now after having a few deep breaths, she entered, pausing for a moment to survey his injuries. "Gods, you two really had a go at each other, didn't you?" She wasn't yelling anymore, which was probably a good sign. "Still."
"Are you insane? You could've killed him, do you know what state you left him in?" Sigyn didn't raise her voice, but the anger was palpable in her tone, the way her eyes flashed, and how she held herself- proud, angry, ready for another battle despite the weariness that crept behind her.
"All for a stupid necklace."
“Of course, I know which state I left him in,” he declared bluntly, keeping his tone light and correct because he did understand that her worry had a purpose and a reason to exist. Sigyn hadn’t been there though. He wasn’t someone who enjoyed the suffering of others - even if he didn’t like them to begin with. Truth was, Heimdall had been pushed into a point where defending himself had been necessary. If the only way to bring Loki back was injured and bleeding, then so be it. “Though I would have preferred if you had entered without wishing for blood to begin with.”
The guardian gave her a dry look, trying to sit more comfortably in the chair. Not in pain - not really - but definitely uncomfortable.
“Your husband is a slippery sort. I didn’t just move around and spanked him before bringing him back to Asgard. He refused to come, Sigyn. Instead of doing the smart thing, he ran like I was coming to kill him and not bring him for judgment.” Or like a coward, feel free to choose which. “You might want to tell him that running towards the sea and expecting to defeat me there was not the more intelligent path of action.”
Especially for someone whose mothers were the waves themselves.
“And, if you want the whole explanation.” She did, he realized with a sigh. Heimdall could refuse to speak and shield himself in the fact that he had done what needed to be done but she’d still banter and argue like a harpy. “This was never solely about the necklace. It is about the fact he defied both Frejya and Odin and you do not do that. You should be grateful it was not worse. Thor would have killed him before bothering to return.”
"What did you just expect me to sit at home and cook?" She frowned, usual calm expression anything but that- from her eyes, to the tilt of her lips. "You should have known I would come here as soon as Loki showed up in the state he did." Luckily for Heimdall, Sigyn was not a valkyrie, but neither was she slight. When the situation called for it, a good slap would be give- a good punch landed- a knee to the groin was well guided.
"And he's not a coward, he's just not stupid." While the White God might disagree, Sigyn would stick to those words, and she was the one married to Loki after all. She should know. (But so many things Sigyn should know and did not).
Grateful? The careful control of her voice slipped slightly, "Grateful? For having my husband beaten black and blue? Grateful? For what? How about the punishment fitting the crime, you don't think it was a little bit of an exaggeration?"
Or a lot actually.
"You could have killed him." But he had not, "... and that you did not- for that I am grateful. I know you could have." And for the first time in a long time, all the anger went leaving a woman who was truly exhausted.
Why couldn’t have someone else done the chasing or, at least, stopped Sigyn before she had entered his halls? Heimdall could dislike useless violence but this had been needed. You did not fight an enemy with gloves, you fought with fists and blades and, more especially, you did not allow them to walk out of the battlefield uninjured and well. It was ridiculous that he had allowed him to be brought to Asgard as he was.
He felt a sudden urge to lock the Goddess in some other room.
“No,” he bit out, trying not to see too annoyed with the whole situation. “I didn’t expect you not to come. No, I didn’t expect you to just wait on the side. I did expect you to realize that I am injured, tired and you should be explaining to your husband that he does not carry the right to challenge Frejya without consequences.”
A deep breath as he laid back on the chair and tried to contain his dislike for her husband. They would always have to agree to disagree when it came to him. Heimdall would always feel wary of the other Aesir and she would always always think of the bastard like some sort of miracle brought upon the land.
The man waved her down, not unkindly. “Sit down, runt. He’ll be fine. We’re Gods, not mortals. I knew what I was doing.” Cutting him down would be far quicker and less painful. Black and blue was a good thing considering all that Heimdall could have done.
No one could've stopped Sigyn once she set her mind to come see Heimdall, she would've climbed up a window if required, or sat outside until he came out. She was a persistent little runt. "Perhaps I would feel worse for your injuries if I had not seen Loki's first." The goddess replied, but sat down regardless. "I know that you knew what you were doing, it's why I get worried." She was not completely oblivious, perhaps she was a little blinded by her love for her husband, but still.
Seeing Heimdall recline brought out her more wife-like side, and without thinking twice she reached over for the wine goblet. Sigyn rose slightly to offer him a drink (yeah, he was able to grab it, no where near as hurt as Loki but...) "I'm still mad at you." Sigyn added as an after thought.
So maybe Heimdall was slightly pleased about the result of the confrontation. He was but a male - immortal and tougher than most but still a male. And there was something deeply satisfying about beating another in a test of strength. His lips twisted slightly in amusement, even as he reached for the glass Sigyn was extending. A good thing not many would know exactly what he was thinking. It was the good thing about being away for most of the time.
“I dare say you will not let me forget,” he added, drinking carefully as if turning too much was undesired at that moment. “But I prefer you saying things at a level headed tone than coming at me ready and prepared to draw blood. Now that that mess is over and done with, eat something. Drink something. You will have little time to rest after returning home.”
The warrior would bet she would eventually change her opinion about letting the other live. If only because Loki would whine loud enough to bring the palace down. And many of those would include Heimdall’s name in less than kind forms.
Lo and behold, another smile.
Perhaps, maybe, Sigyn would find the situation more humorous once Loki was fully healed and it was clear that no permanent damage had occurred. As it stood now? His smile caused her temper to flare a little, and she glared. "You're such children, sometimes." Both him and her beloved husband. Thankfully she was just married to one, and had no desire to ever have anything to do with anyone else. How Freyja handled men? A skill not bestowed on the runt, had Loki been unfaithful she doubted she would have shown Frigg's restraint. The woman had infinite patience for Odin's affair.
Sigyn would've put her foot down (or perhaps a knife) but that was not a line of thought that crossed her mind often.
It was ironic, "You offer me food and drink, and suggest I rest- but you beat my husband to a pulp. I hope you appreciate how ironic this sounds." Taking the cup back, she placed it on the side, "But no, I cannot sit and drink with the man who has hurt Loki like that. No matter the reasons." Sigyn was merely being loyal, part of her hoped Heimdall understood that, and part of her hoped he understood soon just how deep her devotion to her husband went.
Too deep for it to be healthy for Sigyn.
It was amazing how quickly his mood changed. Never violent because he knew better, never truly angry because this was Sigyn after all but there was distinct annoyance and even - if one bothered to search deep enough and for a great amount of time - a trace of hurt. Heimdall raised an eyebrow, allowing his eyes to trail down the terrace and search for the comforting vision of Bifrost.
“Once again, I say I did my duty,” another sip while his brow furrowed. “While he did something wrong, you did not. If that offends you, well. I have little to say bar I will not force anyone to accept my hospitality. In fact, you are free to leave whenever you wish. But while I do say this? Do not expect me to apologize for what I have done.”
Heimdall tilted his head to the side, favoring her with a long look. She might choose not to forgive his actions - as she always would take Loki’s side, always choose him, always, always, always beyond everyone else - but the gatekeeper was already aware of it. It wasn’t personal. Hurtful, yes but not personal. He was sure she would be saying the same to Thor or Odin himself, if it came to that.
“Do as you wish.” End to an argument he would not pursue.
Sigyn did pick up on that hurt, and in fact she was a forgiving goddess. Maybe a little too much in some cases, "I would never expect you to." She tossed him a look, "I never expect anything from anyone." She accentuated the words. Not even from her husband did she expect anything. Maybe, just maybe, she ought to. It was hard though, Sigyn liked to accept everything around her with as much optimism as possible. (Her marriage was a test on this...)
Turning to go, she pressed her lips together swallowing back the urge to say something harsher, something she might later regret. Many thoughts did cross her mind but... one which was not intended to hurt, this was the truth:
"The more you hate him, the less we can be friends."
And I miss your friendship.
Then the goddess was leaving, after all even if she had been in the position to accept hospitality from Heimdall, she still had an injured Loki to look after.
Date/Time: A long time ago, in Asgard.
Location: Bifrost
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Languageish.
Summary: Brisingamen gets stolen, and the results are not awesome.
Brísingamen.
He had stolen Freyja's prized possession (and part of Sigyn couldn't be prouder or more amused at the turn out of events). Admittedly things had been less amusing when the other Gods gathered together and debated what to do. In that moment Sigyn had come to realize just how much some of them resented the Trickster, and how they wanted him punished, exiled or killed. The young goddess was certainly taken aback, then feared for Loki's well-being, and finally raged at her inability to at least warn him.
And though they called on her to answer for his actions, Sigyn could give no explanation- she didn't ask Loki why he did things, nor did she ever expect to be informed beforehand of his pranks and games. Sure she was amused by them mostly, but dying over a necklace was not worth it- and certainly a punishment that did not fit the crime.
Not in Sigyn's opinion.
Waiting, she swallowed hard when it was decided that Heimdall should be the one to bring Loki back. That would not go well for her husband.
They had become rather distant with each other since her friendship with the Jotun ended up in marriage, and while Sigyn was more than happy in her marriage, she was not blind to the gap it was creating between herself and her fellow Aesir. One day, you won't have enough influence to protect him. Sigyn ignored that nagging thought, and braced herself for a meeting with Heimdall.
On a regular basis, Heimdall was not someone to thrifle with. Guardian of Asgard, keeper of Bifrost, the ever watchful, his list of titles went on and on if he cared to remember it. On a regular basis, he should not be angered. When he was, however, he became someone dangerous, tethering on the edge of violence and anger with just one push. This was such a situation.
Servants kept well away from their master as he prepared himself. Armor carefully slipped through his arms, each buckle tightened and pushed comfortably. Gjallarhorn rested on a chair nearby and the White God tried to ignore it as he moved. This time, it had been useless. Perhaps that was what bothered him the most. The simple fact that it had not been an outside enemy but someone inside, someone who was supposed to be family - not completely, he wouldn’t even come close to be such if Heimdall had anything to do with it. That was the problem. He had suspected ever since Loki’s games had brought harm to some of his relatives. But games were one thing and this was another entirely different.
This game would not end well for the Trickster. That, he had vowed before the All-Father.
He heard the servant before it had entered the hallway, wary steps as if trying not to bother the man. Useless but appreciated. In another moment, Heimdall would have praised the caution, the respect towards the ability which gave him no sleep at night, no careless rest. This time, however, he knew why the servant walked carefully. It brought bad news and bad news were an ill guest.
Heimdall needed no warning. Sigyn’s steps were easy to recognize, firmly imprinted in his mind since her creation. And who else would come to find him before his task? Of course she would, even if their friendship had withered and gone cold.
“My lord?”
The sword slid into its hilt, the last buckle tightened and Gjallarhorn grasped on his belt, if only for reassurance. Heimdall could feel the servant’s anxiety, the fear of a storm that was hitting Asgard without warning. This was why he guarded and this was he attempted to avoid. His anger seemed to grow with this knowledge.
“My Lord,” the woman continued. “Lady Sigyn is.”
“I am aware, Hrist. You have my thanks.”
Blunt and sharp and obviously lacking patience, he sped by her and followed until he knew where he would find the younger Goddess.
And while most of Asgard was wise to keep out of Heimdall's way, Sigyn still retained fond memories of being a child and keeping him company during the afternoons. Of stealing his food like a little pet, and making herself at home on his knee. Most wouldn't dare, but she did - though it wouldn't have mattered who she was facing, Sigyn would face anyone for the safety of her husband. No matter the cost, she had sworn an oath to Loki, that would be kept until Ragnarok.
She looked up to spot Heimdall in full battle armor- not something that was comforting- but still, there was something in her eyes which plainly said she was happy to see Heimdall. It was there for a moment before it was gone, buried beneath the task which was at hand, what she really had come here to do.
"Heimdall." She greeted, a small smile before reassuming her serious face.
It took some control for him not to sigh when she finally appeared. Welcomed, always welcomed, desired, perhaps but not then, not that day and not when before this task. Had he not been busy with more worrisome thoughts, Heimdall would have ordered his servants to tell her he was already gone. She could worry about her little husband then, instead of trying for an impossible task. The gatekeeper was no idiot. She had avoided his company for long and suddenly wished to reacquaint herself with him? No. Her visit had a purpose.
A shame he still held a soft spot for the little Goddess.
His head lowered slightly, a simple nod in respect. “Sigyn. I did not expect you,” he stated, lying through every golden teeth he carried. “Forgive me if I lack courtesy but I have been called. I cannot dally.”
He couldn’t and that was truth. But he most especially didn’t wish to. The seriousness didn’t match with the child he had known - definitely belonged to the woman she had become. She was there ready to battle, carrying tongue and mind like he carried a sword and armor. And this battle she would not win, so why fight? It would be better if Heimdall cut it short. Less would be hurt in this manner. Unless Sigyn could convince Loki to return Frejya’s possession and, for once, apologize and penance for his idiocy, he doubted she could do anything in that situation.
Sigyn would not be who she was if she did not at least try. No, she would not insult Heimdall's intelligence by pretending this was anything but a visit for Loki's well-being. In all honest-to-god truth it was probably easier to plea Heimdall to restrain himself, than to ask Loki to return the necklace. The goddess would not have asked that from her husband (though perhaps she had the right to do so).
The smile given at his words was certainly sad, "Come now, you know where Loki causes trouble, I follow." Like his fool, but it was not something Sigyn regretted at all, being happy with the trickster was worth it. "And this is not a time for courtesy, there is nothing to forgive." The goddess turned away, unable to look at the guardian, "I know you have to go."
Hurt was unavoidable in this matter, and though the girl's voice did not hesitate or waver, it was clearly pained. "Please, don't hurt him."
So obvious it hurt. Heimdall looked at her in silence, mulling over her words and knowing perfectly well what his reply would be. As much as she requested, as much as she begged, he could not go into battle with a wooden sword and expect Loki to do the same. It was not his way. In fact, it was probable that the other God was already ready and waiting. Perhaps with a trap, a traitorous one at that. Heimdall would not be surprised.
He shielded himself in his duty, what else to do? It was more important than himself, Sigyn, Loki and anything this discussion would touch. Eyes narrowed and he straightened, feeling the comforting pressure of his armor around him. Oddly, it was a battle, a true battle he was facing in that moment. It was best to be protected, even when not in danger.
“I cannot promise you that,” obviously. Heimdall took a step closer, touching her shoulder in what could have been considered a comforting gesture. “He knew what he was doing. He knew who he was angering. I cannot go to battle and expect him to simply turn himself in. If I don’t defend myself or attack.”
Loki would win, as simple as that.
Why. Gods, why had Loki picked Freyja's prized possession?
The hand on her shoulder caused Sigyn to swallow hard, physically and mentally pushing down any outburst of emotion. Instead she lifted her hand to grasp his own, giving it a firm squeeze. "Please, Heimdall." She tried again, "I know you cannot promise me, but I still trust you-" Even if it was difficult to say in this moment, Sigyn forced herself to continue, "-however, I also know your strength and your anger."
Loki knew what he was doing.
Who understood why her husband truly did what he did? Sigyn always saw it as part of his personality, and playing his games- sometimes they went wrong, but he did fix what he broke. Brisingamen's theft was a little too far, and both Gods in the room knew it. "Defend yourself, one would expect no less, but don't take him away from me. Please."
The tone shifted a little as she continued, fighting hard not to let too many emotions colour her tone. "Don't hurt him badly, just get back the necklace and let it be, please. No one should be hurt over this."
It took a lot of strength for the God to listen to her words and not cringe, not show any sign of discomfort or bitterness. This was her battleground and she did it well, against an opponent who was rather unarmed when facing her. Her touch was convincing, her words pitiable and Heimdall almost - almost - felt like giving in. It would be so easy, relatively speaking. He could do it, if he remembered the details later on. An earnest face, hope he had once deserved and his dislike shouldn’t matter, only his duty.
Heimdall savored her touch for one moment, one fleeting moment before drawing his own hand back. He would make no promises he could not keep and his arm was strong. If Loki pushed, he would push back. And Odin’s judgment awaited, one much harsher and deadlier than anything he might come up with.
“I will bring him alive,” not unharmed nor free, the implied words he didn’t bother to speak. “But you must know. You must keep in mind. Sigyn.” Heimdall lowered himself as to look at her eyes, serious as always, all lies ended because this much from him, she deserved. “I will not be the one to judge him. Frejya will. Odin will. They are above the both of us and it is unlikely they will let him go unpunished. Do not forget.”
Preparing her for the worst, that was all he could do.
Sigyn met Heimdall's eyes straight on, "Then I will plea to Odin, to Freyja, on my knees if I must." The words were soft but determined, she would not give up fighting for Loki, no matter how far she had to go. Withdrawing her hand, letting it drop limply by her side, it was only a minor indicator of how exhausted Sigyn was by this meeting.
It was hard, being married to someone like Loki. Well, no good thing was for free, and the work it was made it worth it. To her anyway.
"Thank you."
She gave him a genuine smile, reminiscent of a long time ago, when they both had been far more innocent and hopeful that now. Sigyn understood his warning, and appreciated it from deep down. Not many of the other Aesir would be so keen to offer any advice or warnings, not anymore. Not since it was clear Sigyn could not reign in Loki like most had hoped.
She was still innocent. Heimdall could see that just as well as any inside Asgard. To be able to ignore the strictness of Odin’s judgments, to believe he would be swayed. Frejya, perhaps. He knew the other Goddess would not willingly wish harm upon her relative, even if everything in her screamed for revenge. Odin was another ilk. If Sigyn felt hopeful with her plans, however, he wouldn’t be the one to tear them down. It was not his way to be uselessly cruel.
“Do not thank me, runt,” he said simply, keeping his thoughts light and away from the future. “I guess it is the least I can do for you. Not for him. For you. You have done nothing wrong.” Except to be connected to someone who dirtied every hall of Valhalla he chose to cross. Personal opinions though, not to be told.
He gave her a smile and everything around him was not important, they could be in Bifrost in that precise moment, or maybe just standing in one of Odin’s functions, commenting on the whole boredom of the situation they were forced into. For that moment, he was just himself and not the one who was charged to bring her husband to justice. They were friends and things were perfect.
“Well. Wish me luck, I will attempt to have him brought back by nightfall. Keep my dinner warm.”
A last smile and he was off, putting this encounter in the back of his head. This way, it would be easier not to pity or hesitate.
Of course Heimdall won, of course. Sigyn balled her hands into fists when Loki finally came home- and the state he was in. Alive, yes, but black and blue all over. (Or at least, that is how he would be in a few days, right now he was more or less a bloodied mess). Sigyn swallowed her anger with difficulty as she returned to Heimdall's home.
Loki was in good hands right now, she could afford an hour or so to come here, give Heimdall a piece of her mind, then go home. Long hair spilled behind her, dress from before- except now it was clearly wrinkled and just- her appearance was far from dignified.
However, such disheveled appearance showed just how angry she was. This time Sigyn didn't wait for the servants to announce her, making her way across a home she had once been familiar with.
"Heimdall!"
The gatekeeper had not moved for several hours, eyes glazed and absent for whatever conscious thought, listening to animals and herbs, to the hustle and bustle behind him. His injuries had been carefully wrapped and, on top of them, rested the lightest tunic he had found. No swords, no armor, no horn, those deserved also their time of respite and laid on the vanity inside the room.
One would have thought that wining would suddenly make his mood wide and bright. If Heimdall had managed to win without worries, to go and come back spotless and safe, that wouldn’t explain his annoyance. But the gatekeeper had had problems - as expected, he had battled an Aesir - and injuries were something he hadn’t been able to avoid. For someone who prized his strength and ability, it had been a hard blow.
He was ready to rest it all. Someone would watch Bifrost for a couple of days, Frejya had already attempted to make him decent and Odin, even the ruler had been more than ready to leave him to himself for a while. This was a good thing. Perfect. Only Heimdall couldn’t really change and the terrace had a lovely view of his usual guarding place.
Alone as he was, it wasn’t exactly complicated to realize that Sigyn was back in the house, as pleased as Frejya had been when stolen. And he didn’t want to deal with this. Shrugging the tunic into place, he didn’t bother to stand.
“Terrace, Sigyn. In the terrace.”
Or she could just scream from the hallways. He would hear and perhaps his sensitive hearing would not bring an added headache to his injuries.
Sigyn would not stand in the hallways and yell, it was not what she did. What she wanted was to look at the Bridge Guardian, to glare and grab his arm. Part of her (a very small one) was grateful it had not been worse for Loki, but regardless? This had certainly been worse than what was required. It took her a few minutes but she made her way to the terrace.
Now after having a few deep breaths, she entered, pausing for a moment to survey his injuries. "Gods, you two really had a go at each other, didn't you?" She wasn't yelling anymore, which was probably a good sign. "Still."
"Are you insane? You could've killed him, do you know what state you left him in?" Sigyn didn't raise her voice, but the anger was palpable in her tone, the way her eyes flashed, and how she held herself- proud, angry, ready for another battle despite the weariness that crept behind her.
"All for a stupid necklace."
“Of course, I know which state I left him in,” he declared bluntly, keeping his tone light and correct because he did understand that her worry had a purpose and a reason to exist. Sigyn hadn’t been there though. He wasn’t someone who enjoyed the suffering of others - even if he didn’t like them to begin with. Truth was, Heimdall had been pushed into a point where defending himself had been necessary. If the only way to bring Loki back was injured and bleeding, then so be it. “Though I would have preferred if you had entered without wishing for blood to begin with.”
The guardian gave her a dry look, trying to sit more comfortably in the chair. Not in pain - not really - but definitely uncomfortable.
“Your husband is a slippery sort. I didn’t just move around and spanked him before bringing him back to Asgard. He refused to come, Sigyn. Instead of doing the smart thing, he ran like I was coming to kill him and not bring him for judgment.” Or like a coward, feel free to choose which. “You might want to tell him that running towards the sea and expecting to defeat me there was not the more intelligent path of action.”
Especially for someone whose mothers were the waves themselves.
“And, if you want the whole explanation.” She did, he realized with a sigh. Heimdall could refuse to speak and shield himself in the fact that he had done what needed to be done but she’d still banter and argue like a harpy. “This was never solely about the necklace. It is about the fact he defied both Frejya and Odin and you do not do that. You should be grateful it was not worse. Thor would have killed him before bothering to return.”
"What did you just expect me to sit at home and cook?" She frowned, usual calm expression anything but that- from her eyes, to the tilt of her lips. "You should have known I would come here as soon as Loki showed up in the state he did." Luckily for Heimdall, Sigyn was not a valkyrie, but neither was she slight. When the situation called for it, a good slap would be give- a good punch landed- a knee to the groin was well guided.
"And he's not a coward, he's just not stupid." While the White God might disagree, Sigyn would stick to those words, and she was the one married to Loki after all. She should know. (But so many things Sigyn should know and did not).
Grateful? The careful control of her voice slipped slightly, "Grateful? For having my husband beaten black and blue? Grateful? For what? How about the punishment fitting the crime, you don't think it was a little bit of an exaggeration?"
Or a lot actually.
"You could have killed him." But he had not, "... and that you did not- for that I am grateful. I know you could have." And for the first time in a long time, all the anger went leaving a woman who was truly exhausted.
Why couldn’t have someone else done the chasing or, at least, stopped Sigyn before she had entered his halls? Heimdall could dislike useless violence but this had been needed. You did not fight an enemy with gloves, you fought with fists and blades and, more especially, you did not allow them to walk out of the battlefield uninjured and well. It was ridiculous that he had allowed him to be brought to Asgard as he was.
He felt a sudden urge to lock the Goddess in some other room.
“No,” he bit out, trying not to see too annoyed with the whole situation. “I didn’t expect you not to come. No, I didn’t expect you to just wait on the side. I did expect you to realize that I am injured, tired and you should be explaining to your husband that he does not carry the right to challenge Frejya without consequences.”
A deep breath as he laid back on the chair and tried to contain his dislike for her husband. They would always have to agree to disagree when it came to him. Heimdall would always feel wary of the other Aesir and she would always always think of the bastard like some sort of miracle brought upon the land.
The man waved her down, not unkindly. “Sit down, runt. He’ll be fine. We’re Gods, not mortals. I knew what I was doing.” Cutting him down would be far quicker and less painful. Black and blue was a good thing considering all that Heimdall could have done.
No one could've stopped Sigyn once she set her mind to come see Heimdall, she would've climbed up a window if required, or sat outside until he came out. She was a persistent little runt. "Perhaps I would feel worse for your injuries if I had not seen Loki's first." The goddess replied, but sat down regardless. "I know that you knew what you were doing, it's why I get worried." She was not completely oblivious, perhaps she was a little blinded by her love for her husband, but still.
Seeing Heimdall recline brought out her more wife-like side, and without thinking twice she reached over for the wine goblet. Sigyn rose slightly to offer him a drink (yeah, he was able to grab it, no where near as hurt as Loki but...) "I'm still mad at you." Sigyn added as an after thought.
So maybe Heimdall was slightly pleased about the result of the confrontation. He was but a male - immortal and tougher than most but still a male. And there was something deeply satisfying about beating another in a test of strength. His lips twisted slightly in amusement, even as he reached for the glass Sigyn was extending. A good thing not many would know exactly what he was thinking. It was the good thing about being away for most of the time.
“I dare say you will not let me forget,” he added, drinking carefully as if turning too much was undesired at that moment. “But I prefer you saying things at a level headed tone than coming at me ready and prepared to draw blood. Now that that mess is over and done with, eat something. Drink something. You will have little time to rest after returning home.”
The warrior would bet she would eventually change her opinion about letting the other live. If only because Loki would whine loud enough to bring the palace down. And many of those would include Heimdall’s name in less than kind forms.
Lo and behold, another smile.
Perhaps, maybe, Sigyn would find the situation more humorous once Loki was fully healed and it was clear that no permanent damage had occurred. As it stood now? His smile caused her temper to flare a little, and she glared. "You're such children, sometimes." Both him and her beloved husband. Thankfully she was just married to one, and had no desire to ever have anything to do with anyone else. How Freyja handled men? A skill not bestowed on the runt, had Loki been unfaithful she doubted she would have shown Frigg's restraint. The woman had infinite patience for Odin's affair.
Sigyn would've put her foot down (or perhaps a knife) but that was not a line of thought that crossed her mind often.
It was ironic, "You offer me food and drink, and suggest I rest- but you beat my husband to a pulp. I hope you appreciate how ironic this sounds." Taking the cup back, she placed it on the side, "But no, I cannot sit and drink with the man who has hurt Loki like that. No matter the reasons." Sigyn was merely being loyal, part of her hoped Heimdall understood that, and part of her hoped he understood soon just how deep her devotion to her husband went.
Too deep for it to be healthy for Sigyn.
It was amazing how quickly his mood changed. Never violent because he knew better, never truly angry because this was Sigyn after all but there was distinct annoyance and even - if one bothered to search deep enough and for a great amount of time - a trace of hurt. Heimdall raised an eyebrow, allowing his eyes to trail down the terrace and search for the comforting vision of Bifrost.
“Once again, I say I did my duty,” another sip while his brow furrowed. “While he did something wrong, you did not. If that offends you, well. I have little to say bar I will not force anyone to accept my hospitality. In fact, you are free to leave whenever you wish. But while I do say this? Do not expect me to apologize for what I have done.”
Heimdall tilted his head to the side, favoring her with a long look. She might choose not to forgive his actions - as she always would take Loki’s side, always choose him, always, always, always beyond everyone else - but the gatekeeper was already aware of it. It wasn’t personal. Hurtful, yes but not personal. He was sure she would be saying the same to Thor or Odin himself, if it came to that.
“Do as you wish.” End to an argument he would not pursue.
Sigyn did pick up on that hurt, and in fact she was a forgiving goddess. Maybe a little too much in some cases, "I would never expect you to." She tossed him a look, "I never expect anything from anyone." She accentuated the words. Not even from her husband did she expect anything. Maybe, just maybe, she ought to. It was hard though, Sigyn liked to accept everything around her with as much optimism as possible. (Her marriage was a test on this...)
Turning to go, she pressed her lips together swallowing back the urge to say something harsher, something she might later regret. Many thoughts did cross her mind but... one which was not intended to hurt, this was the truth:
"The more you hate him, the less we can be friends."
And I miss your friendship.
Then the goddess was leaving, after all even if she had been in the position to accept hospitality from Heimdall, she still had an injured Loki to look after.