Loki nodded, less interested in a lady’s courtesies than he was in the lady. Words like “my lord” and “I must thank you” were useful trinkets, something that people said, either in lieu of their real thoughts or else because they were not clever enough to think of anything else. His brother’s friends—not his own—called him fond of mischief when in reality he desired only to drum up people’s most compelling sides.
Having bothered to approach her at all, Loki had a mind to see if this lady had an interesting side. Lady Sif had one, though when it reared its head, it was violent and self-conscious. Thor, who seldom approached any woman but was instead approached, told Loki that he taunted and liked taunting too much for a lady to tolerate him. To this, he’d answered his brother with a laugh and a wry comment—I could never tolerate a lady who could not answer my teasing in turn.
He followed her gaze. She was looking out, generally, into the crowd. The splendor on display staggered the mind, and people brought so much fashion and finery that it would be a monumental task to categorize it all. There were styles that to his eye appeared ridiculous. More than one individual staggered or tripped under the weight of their gold and the length of their drapery. Loki dressed as he ever did, in gold, black, and green, cut so that the cloth layered like a serpent’s scales, to counter the clean silver, blue and red of his brother’s armor.
“He is not here,” Loki observed, in a low, private voice. Who he was, similarly, needed no elaboration. ”Mother has ideas of her own, to prepare him. And you see my father there, on the dais, receiving the more distinguished guests from the more prestigious realms. They’ve dispatched me to be the social one, out among the people. I rather like it. I like these spectacles. It brings out all the affluent faces I am accustomed to seeing.”
He smiled, looking down at her. What sort of mind did she have, under all that pretty brown hair? He wondered if a little prodding would suddenly make his unexpected reception unwelcome after all. “Yet I’ve never seen yours. No doubt you’ll become a fixture, once you’ve managed to climb a little higher.”
The tone in Loki’s voice as he spoke of his brother cause Sigyn to turn her eyes back to him and smile her terrible smile, the knowing one that came from picking up on someone’s true thoughts. Not that Loki was doing much to hide his. He was Thor’s brother and as such it was expected he honor him on this day. But to her it made more sense he spoke of him that way for that throne could have been his as well, held enticingly in front of his nose so that its scent tickled it and then snatched out right from beneath it.
She was however surprised to hear that he liked being dispatched among the people for all the rumors she had heard painted him as more of a recluse. He was goading her, or attempting to at least, but she was not offended by it. Her place in society was clear to her though she wasn’t planning on letting it stay that way for much longer. “Oh, no doubt. And then I’ll be greeted by the king. The only question is whether it will still be your father or your brother.” Sigyn let that sink in for a moment before dropping her voice to a whisper.
"Or maybe it will be you again. Manners like yours are greatly needed in Asgard and I do worry that they might soon be lacking." It was no secret that Thor was often boorish, especially after one of his conquests as he and the Warriors Three feasted in celebration.
The tall, lanky man returned her gaze. He was gaunter, paler, leaner than his brother, and keenly aware of these many deficiencies. He believed himself to have certain other qualities; for instance, he considered his moves before he made them. He considered, now, the lady staring at what she thought was himself. Loki, leaning beneath the shade of golden pillar inscribed with prosperous runes, stood up straight, and made as if to approach her, not quite touching the others in the crowd. A head passed before him, and another, obscuring him from anyone’s view. It was an old trick of his.
Beside the lady, the air shimmered and warped, and there was Loki, again, behind her, as he had ever been. The Ases were full of speculation, and Loki disliked to be speculated upon, at least too easily. Thor could afford to ignore it. Soon he would be king, and their whispers would go unheard for all the blood and battle that would rush through his ears.
Loki, the lesser prince of Asgard, inclined his head to her respectfully. He wondered, not briefly, what sort of speculations she was making. “My lady,” he said by way of greeting. He felt he had already introduced himself, in a way, if she were clever or knowledgeable. There were few who could work illusions so facilely.
When he disappeared behind the crowd Sigyn let her eyes drift away from him and back over the people dressed in their finest silks and sturdiest armor. Thor had pulled in quite the impressive turn out, though it would be incredibly foolish for anyone to skip the coronation of the new king lest he notice and hold a grudge for his entire reign. So whether she agreed with his appointment or not Sigyn was here and she was going to socialize as was expected of her.
She didn’t have to even take a step towards a single soul she considered to be beneath her station, or the station she deserved, when the intimidatingly tall form materialized next to her. There was absolutely no need for introductions, she knew who was upon sight. “My lord,” she replied in kind as she tipped her head in a respectful gesture and bent into a graceful curtsy. “I must thank you for your personal reception, it was unexpected but is not unwelcome.”
Turning her sights from his enchanting eyes with great effort Sigyn looked back upon the people, his guests, with an appraising look pinching her fine features. Some of them were almost ostentatiously dressed and she didn’t know how they thought it would be appropriate to not only leave their home in such attire but come here in it. Did she think herself above all of them? No, certainly not. Most of them was more like it. Sigyn wouldn’t be vain enough to say she was that high up. Not yet at least.
Ladies in waiting in tow, Sigyn stepped out of her carriage and joined the line of people walking into Valhalla. Everyone had turned out for Thor’s coronation and Sigyn surveyed them all with an appraising look. While most guests were talking about what Thor’s first actions as king would be, war was the winning answer, but whispers about his younger brother Loki reached her ears as well. They postulated on his feelings on being overlooked for the throne and remarked that Odin had made right choice choosing the elder and more handsome son. Sigyn was not inclined to agree with them, though she barely knew the man. From what she had seen of Thor and Loki she didn’t think Thor would necessarily make a better ruler. He was more popular among the people, that was for sure, but he gave off a very immature, boyish vibe that showed he was not yet ripe for the role.
The line moved quickly with trumpets constantly heralding each new arrival as they walked into the sparkling entrance hall. It was soon Sigyn’s turn to be announced and she stepped through the large doors with sly smirk as her sharp eyes cut across the room. She had not journeyed all the way to Valhalla simply for a coronation ceremony, like always she had a greater goal in mind. The time had come for her to select a husband. Yes she would be choosing her life mate, not the other way around.
Her eyes hit upon a tall, lanky man lurking in the shadows off to the side and she held his for a moment longer than the rest, drawn immediately to the intelligence swimming in their depths. There were secrets there that she wanted to know. She didn’t know how she knew it but she did.