Loki and Sigyn, His Glorious Purpose

Chapter Ninety

SIGYN'S POINT OF VIEW
The world was different after the blip, all things considered. Half the population was gone, of course, and then I was widowed. But asides from the obvious, the world was changing as well. Nature was reclaiming all that had been abandoned, swirling vines overtook windows and moss clung to walls. The world that had once been overpopulated was now immensely overgrown.

The good parts of the universe still remained though, this is what I was most grateful for. The sun still shined, its golden rays still cast a warm feeling on my skin. The wind still sang as it rushed through the woods. The waves crashed with confidence and valor upon the sparkling shore. Though things were different, nature still was nature. I could at least rely on that.

Besides, I was never one for the opulence of palace life. Even in Asgard, I spent most of my time in the garden or the infirmary. I enjoyed working, helping people, or tending to plants. That was simply where I felt most at home and truthfully the most useful. I was happy to work in the fields and heal the odd cut or broken arm here and there. Life in Norway was far from the pace upheld on Asgard, it was slower and much quieter. I couldn't say I minded.

Asides from all the farming and fishing, being a mother to Hela is what grounded me the most. I loved her more than I could tell. When she would ask me for help or ask to spend time with me, I would take the chance every single time. I never truly had a mother of my own and I wanted to be there for Hela in every single way my mother wasn't. I wanted to make Hela feel safe and comfortable in my presence, to have her know she could truly trust me. Most of all, I just wanted to see her happy. And generally, except for the normal pre-teen drama, she was just that. Happy.

It was late August, the air was warm and humid. I was in the garden, harvesting ripe tomatoes in the heat of the afternoon as Hela practiced archery nearby. I could just barely see the top of her head above the tall spindling vines. The only thing that really told me she was still there was the groans of frustration or the laughter following a bullseye.

I continued through the rows of ripe tomatoes, gathering fruit by fruit and gathering them within a large wicker basket. The hot August sun beat down on my neck as I worked. The calm of the afternoon was beautiful, warm, and bright. In the heat, I was more than grateful that I had chosen to keep my hair short.

"Mom," Hela called out from far beyond the vines.

"Yes, Hela?" I replied as I plucked a bright red tomato from amongst the thicket.

"We have an issue," she sighed, pushing through the garden to get to me. Hela slung her bow over her shoulder and put a very fake smile on her lips as she gestured towards the hill behind us.

Over the ridge, Thor was blundering towards us.

I sighed, "I wasn't aware thunderstorms were in the forecast for today."

"He was here two days ago," Hela groaned, "Why is he back already?"

"I don't know," I admitted, watching as Thor made his descent from the hill, "But it can't be for any good reason."

I hoisted up the large basket of tomatoes and handed them to Hela, "Alright, I'll deal with him, just take these inside please?"

She nodded, taking the large basket into the crook of her arm. "Be careful, please," she asked, "Your ankle still is all swollen and gross, just ya know, be careful."

"Yes, ma'am," I said, kissing her on the head before she ran off to our cabin.

I sighed, pulling off my garden gloves as Thor stomped towards me. Just as he got within a few meters from me, I was instantly hit with the smell of alcohol. Thor smelled pungently of mead and brandy, it was almost nauseating. By the sway in his walk and the way he could barely see straight, I knew instantly he was inebriated. I braced myself as I prepared to deal with him.

"Sigyn," he croaked out, stumbling towards me.

"You're drunk," I stated as he nearly took out five of my rose bushes.

"No I'm not," he lied, taking me harshly by the shoulders. His hands pressed so firmly into my flesh, it almost hurt.

"Why are you here?" I asked, trying to pry myself from his grip but to no avail.

"I wanted to see you," he mumbled, sloppily taking me by the waist and pulling me as close as humanly possible. I pressed my hands firmly against his chest, trying to push away.

"Thor," I warned, "Whatever you want, it's not happening. You're drunk out of your mind and-"

"I'm not drunk," Thor argued his voice hoarse and firm, "Do you even know who I am?"

"Thor stop," I said firmly, pursuing hard against him and putting my full weight against his grip.

"Do you even know who I am?" he repeated, grabbing both of wrists in one hand.

"What do you want me to say, Thor?" I yelled, trying desperately to tear my hands away. "You are a drunken asshole, now let me go!"

"Tell me," he said firmly, "You need me, tell me I'm yours."

I spat in his face, "You are pathetic."

Thor's face twisted into one of immense anger, his grip on my wrists tightened and he pulled me close to him with a hand pressed firmly on the small of my back. His head dipped down towards mine, his hot alcoholic breath stung.

"Sigyn," he said harshly, "Don't you dare-"

"Don't I dare what?" I asked angrily, glaring up him.

"I am the God of Thunder, dammit, and you should-"

"She should what?" A voice bellowed from behind Thor. My ears pricked and every hair on the back of my neck stood up. A icy cold chill tan down my spine and my breath caught in my throat. I knew that voice. I knew it better than anything.

Thor stumbled backwards as he let go of me. I couldn't see the man from behind his frame but my heart already knew exactly who it was. Thor turned around, sloppily stepping to the side as he tried to face the man.

Thor stepped out, revealing the man standing behind him just a mere three meters away.

"Dear god," Thor mumbled before promptly keeling over, falling flat to the grass.

I couldn't move, I couldn't speak. My heart was beating a million miles per minute. I wanted to throw up, scream, and cry all at the same time. I felt my face pale as I stared at the ghost in front of me.

"Sigyn," he said softly as he slowly walked towards me, "It's good to see your face."

"No, no," I choked out, "I- No. You're dead."

"Well yes, but no," he said, reaching out to take my hand.

"You're not real," I insisted, stepping back, "This is some trick. Hela's doing this, isn't she?"

"No," he continued, taking another step forward, "No tricks here, I'm really me. Sigyn, please."

I stumbled back, finding myself against the wall of my garden shed.

"I saw you die," I argued as he continued to walk towards me, nearly cornering me against the wall.

"You did," he affirmed, "But that's a long story and all that matters is that I'm here now and Thor is thankfully down for the count."

He reached out and grabbed my hand, his cold skin meeting my palm. My heart raced as I looked up into his icy blue eyes.

Loki. A dead man walking. And here he was, right in front of me.