Chapter Text
Several hours passed and the sun dipped below the horizon as Sigyn waited for something, anything to happen. She spent a while pacing anxiously in her chambers, her warm clothing changed out of and tossed aside as she tried desperately to keep from thinking of what could be happening on Jotunheim, what harm could come to Loki and the others - what irreparable damage to the truce between the two realms could be happening while she waited, unable to help and feeling useless.
After too long, her restlessness became too much to bear and she found herself pacing now in a new direction, towards the Bifrost. If and when the group returned she could at least see what condition they returned in, be nearby in case someone needed medical attention - she swallowed that thought for the time being as it turned her stomach with unnecessary worry.
As if conjured by the notion alone, a palace worker came around a corner as Sigyn strode towards the outer doors of the courtyard, nearly bowling the two over as they collided.
“Many apologies, your highness!” The man gasped, out of breath as though he had been running for some time. “I’ve been looking for you,” he choked out, composing himself once again and bowing deeply before straightening back into a more formal posture. “Your help is needed in the healing rooms.”
Sigyn stared at the man for a second, stunned at his words. She hadn’t thought she’d heard the Bifrost open again already - perhaps in her preoccupation with getting herself there had caught her up in thought enough she didn’t notice.
She gave the man a small nod, sending him back on his way and turned on her heel, shaky legs carrying her towards the healing rooms as fast as they could manage, the only sound she could hear now the thudding of her own heartbeat in her ears and the heels of her boots hitting the stone floor.
She arrived at her destination to a grim sight - a flurry of movement circled around a nearly unconscious Fandral, whose blood had marked a grim path of wide splashes leading to the table where he lay, surrounded by healers who all worked to close a rather serious looking wound in his shoulder. Across from him, Volstagg sat clutching his arm, the armor splintered away to reveal an ugly burn beneath it on most of the flesh beneath his elbow. His usually jolly face was sporting a long cascade of deep navy bruises, and as he was being attended to by fewer healers, Sigyn rushed to his side first.
“What happened?” She whispered to the burly warrior, gingerly clutching his wrist and assessing the severity of his wound. She cast a furtive glance around, ensuring none of the other healers heard her query. It was probably for the best if as few people as possible knew of the ill-advised excursion to Jotunheim.
“What we were all worried would happen,” Volstagg replied wearily, not bothering to be surprised that she knew of their inter-realm sneaking, “Thor went looking for a fight, and indeed he found one.”
Sigyn sighed deeply. “Well, the good news is this wound looks like it’ll heal just fine.” She reassured him, placing her palm over the frozen skin and letting her seidr wash over it. The blackened flesh began to return to its usual colour, a wash of golden light enveloping the wound like a thick fog.
“How bad was it?” She pressed, once she was able to pull her focus from Volstagg’s arm. “Where are Loki and Thor? Are they alright?” She almost didn’t dare to ask, fearing the worst.
“They’re both fine,” came Sif’s voice from beside her. She approached the two with Hogun, both looking a bit worse for wear but thankfully not in as rough a shape as their companions. “But they were kept behind at the Bifrost with the Allfather. Somehow he found out what we were up to - he was the one who came to our aid on Jotunheim.”
Sigyn was filled with a new sort of worry. Her first instinct was to turn and run straight back where she came, but knew there was nothing she could do to help Thor and Loki now if they truly had incurred the Allfather’s wrath. She would have to stay where she was needed, where she could be of actual use, and with any luck be able to assess the damage later on when things had settled down and Loki returned to her. Turning back to Volstagg, she directed her seidr to wash over his face, dissolving the bruises away with a shimmer.
--
Sigyn sat with Sif and the Warriors Three a while later around the great fireplace in the corner of the healing rooms, wounds completing their healing process and minds reeling. Sigyn sat beside Fandral, keeping an eye on his healing shoulder and picking anxiously at the hems of her sleeves as they awaited Thor and Loki’s return.
The deep and gentle sound of the stone doors opening drew five sets of eyes as Loki emerged, looking rattled but uninjured.
Sigyn was at his side in a moment, the worry sliding off her weary shoulders as she embraced him. Loki squeezed her back gently in response, one arm coiled loosely around her waist.
“Are you alright?” She whispered to him, as he pressed a small kiss to her temple. Sigyn knew better than to ask about Thor’s absence too quickly - surely one of the others would ask soon enough anyway.
Loki gave only a curt nod in response, turning to glance over her shoulder at the others.
“My father has banished Thor from Asgard.” He said. A stunned silence intensified the quiet of the room.
“What?” Sigyn gasped, pulling back. The pit in her stomach, now a seemingly permanent addition to her body, deepened still as she considered the implications of such a punishment.
“Odin stripped him of his powers and cast him out through the Bifrost.” Loki explained, his expression unreadable as he avoided meeting Sigyn’s gaze and stepped from her embrace. The room was stunned to silence for a beat more, before Volstagg spoke.
“We should have never let him go.”
Sif barely held in a scoff. “There was no stopping him.”
“At least he’s only banished, not dead,” Fandral offered, “Which is what we’d all be if that guard hadn’t told Odin where we’d gone.”
“How did the guard even know?”
“I told him.” Loki replied. He fidgeted with his hands, something Sigyn had only seen him do a few times - to openly show signs of the wheels in his head turning was something she knew her husband to do only in times of great stress. Something else was afoot.
Fandral was aghast. “What?”
“I told him to go to Odin after we’d left,” Loki asserted coolly, “though he should be flogged for taking so long.”
Sigyn let out a low breath. Though she was sure that Loki’s betrayal of their secret excursion had likely saved all of their lives, the others weren’t likely to take the news with such optimism.
Volstagg, for one, certainly did not. “You told the guard?”
“I saved all our lives!” Loki reasoned. “And Thor’s. I had no idea father would banish him for what he did.”
Sif, always the first of the group to begin problem-solving, spoke up. “Loki, you’re the only one who can help Thor now. You must go to the Allfather and convince him to change his mind!” she pleaded, stepping closer.
“And if I do, then what?” Loki hissed back at her. “I love Thor more dearly than any of you, but you know what he is. He’s arrogant. He’s reckless. He’s dangerous. You saw how he was today. Is that what Asgard needs from its king?”
A heavy quiet fell once again over the room, no one knowing quite how to respond. Loki turned from them, jaw clenched, and left the room without another word, Sigyn following close behind him after a moment of uncertainty and a weary glance towards the others.
“Although you do make a good point,” she began, broadening her strides to catch up to him, “I still feel like there’s something amiss you aren’t saying.” She eyed him with soft suspicion, being careful to choose her words, so as to not send him withdrawing into secrecy once more.
It seemed, sadly, that Loki had already begun his retreat. He stilled for a moment, as though debating whether or not to say anything, but thought otherwise, turning from her and continuing down the hall in silence.
Sigyn felt, at last, the last shreds of her patience snap. She had once felt like Loki’s closest confidante, like she was one of the few people that he allowed a glimpse of his true self. Whatever had changed between them left her in the shadows, sneaking about behind rather than beside him. Nothing in recent memory had ever made her feel so small.
Well, fine then, she thought to herself, bitterness she had been ignoring bubbling up inside her, her hands forming into tight fists that left half-moon slivers in her palms where her fingernails sank into the soft flesh. She stilled her steps as Loki strode away from her, a strangled growl of frustration rumbling past her lips. A flash of seidr rolled like a viscous wave off her body, sending a nearby bench tumbling over itself down the hall and a hanging lantern overhead swinging precariously around on its chain. The force nearly knocked Loki over, pushing him forward mid-stride and he stumbled to keep on his feet, turning to look at her in surprise.
Sigyn had already turned to storm the other direction, avoiding his questioning stare as she rushed away. Only once she heard his footsteps begin again, carrying him away from her once more down the hallway, did she allow herself to cry.