Loki and Sigyn, His Glorious Purpose

Chapter One Hundred and Nineteen

LOKI'S POINT OF VIEW

Snap.

Iron Man's fingers came together with a mighty force unknown to any common man. From his fingertips, power radiated throughout the universe. One by one, the Titan and his army disappeared into dust. Like a snowfall, their remains scattered upon the ground. And at that same instance, the God of Mischief's heart broke into two.

Sigyn, my bride, and Goddess lay dead in my arms in a cruel twist of fate. Her neck was crushed and her vocal cords could barely utter her final words. "I love you," had just barely escaped her lips. The purple bruises that emulated from her throat looked all too familiar to the ones Loki had suffered all those years ago. The whites of her eyes had turned red under the strain of holding onto life. The state of her fragile frame reminded me of the scene I had watched back in the TVA, a variant of myself dead and cold just as she was now.

Looking back, I now wonder if this was all a sick kind of retribution by fate. I had escaped death in this timeline by pulling myself from another. I had defeated death by refusing to face it myself. And now, here I was staring it right in the eyes as Sigyn laid in my arms. Had her death been the payment for my life? The choking, the bruises, the desperation, was all too familiar to the death I was meant to have. 

But at the time, I could hardly fathom all of that. As I clutched her close, it felt as though a part of me died alongside her. Suddenly, there was an emptiness within me. I felt like there was a starving black hole at the center of my being, longing to be filled and contained. And yet, with Sigyn dead and gone, there was no way for this desire to be fulfilled. My love, my soulmate, had moved on to death without me. I was left behind with no partner and no remedy to the loneliness I had faced for eons.

"Please," I begged quietly, hardly noticing the tears streaming down my cheeks, "Please, don't leave me."

I held Sigyn close, gripping her tighter than I had ever held anything before. I could focus on nothing else but her. 

"Brother," Thor said quietly as he kneeled beside me and put his hand on my shoulder.

"We can bring her back," I insisted, brushing the hair from Sigyn's pale face, "With a stone, we can bring her back."

Just then a gust of wind pushed by as Hela appeared before us.

"Papa..you know we can't..." she said quietly, sitting before me. Her voice was shaky and her own pink cheeks were stained with tears. I could hardly imagine how difficult this had been for her, if the pain I felt was so astronomical.

"Dear," I begged, taking Hela's hand in mine, "We have to try, you have to try, I can't do this without her..I-"

"I can't bring her back," Hela said firmly, "I don't know what she would become, papa. I'm sorry, but I can't."

"You know Sigyn wouldn't want that," Thor said softly as he attempted to remain stoic and detached, only letting a few silent tears fall.

"I know," I admitted as I looked down at my bride. I hated that Thor was right. Sigyn was not one to interfere with the natural. She was by the book and was a servant to the forces of fate. Sigyn wouldn't have wanted to put anyone in jeopardy, even if it meant saving her own life. Sigyn would have wanted to stay dead.

"She's gonna be okay, you know," Hela said softly, each word strained by her heavy crying, "Heroes like her make it to Valhalla..."

I nodded, straining a small smile before I pulled my daughter close. I wrapped an arm around her, letting her head rest on my shoulder as grieved her mother. Hela's small body shook under my touch as she clung to me, her hands tightly gripped my arm as if she was desperately afraid of losing me too.