Chapter Text
~ Prologue ~
Many years ago
A young girl sat quietly in a sunlit meadow within the golden Realm of Asgard, her head bowed and her fingers tugging absently at a strand of deep red hair. Silent tears streaked her cheeks, falling onto the grass beneath her. She hadn’t felt this hollow since her father’s passing, a wound in her heart that had yet to heal.
Now, she faced another loss—leaving Asgard forever.
Her mother had found happiness again, which should have brought comfort. The King of Vanaheim, a fellow Vanir, had courted her and asked for her hand in marriage. But for Sigyn, this meant abandoning everything she’d ever known. Her home. The palace where her father had worked as Royal Healer. And most heartbreakingly, her best friend.
Loki.
The thought of never seeing him again was unbearable. It was Loki who had been there for her when her world first fell apart. He had stumbled upon her here, in this very meadow, years ago as she cried over her father’s death. A boy only a little older than her, with sharp eyes and a wit to match, who managed to make her laugh even when the pain seemed insurmountable. From that moment, he had been her solace.
The sound of her name, carried on the breeze, interrupted her thoughts.
“Sigyn!”
Her head snapped up. Loki was sprinting toward her, his dark hair glinting in the sunlight. Quickly, she stood and wiped at her tear-streaked face, determined not to let him see her cry. He always teased her when she cried—except for the first time they met.
When he skidded to a halt a few feet away, chest heaving, she managed a weak smile.
“Hello,” she murmured.
“Hi,” he replied, breathless. “I—I thought you might’ve already left.”
“Not yet.” She glanced at the sun, its position a reminder of how little time remained. “But it won’t be long now.”
Loki hesitated before speaking again. “I… brought you something.” He thrust a small package toward her, his usual confidence momentarily replaced by awkwardness.
“Oh…” Sigyn blinked, taking the package. “I didn’t think to—” She stopped, her cheeks flushing. “I don’t have anything for you.”
“It’s fine,” Loki said quickly, brushing off her apology. “I just… wanted you to have this.”
Encouraged by his nod, she carefully unwrapped the package, revealing a small wooden box. She glanced up at him, puzzled, but his gaze prompted her to open it. Inside lay a thin golden bracelet, its delicate surface catching the sunlight.
Speechless, she looked back at him. Loki had given her gifts before—sweets, a tiny birthday cake, even a large spider once (an incident that had him doubled over with laughter as she fled in terror). But never anything like this.
“It’s… beautiful,” she whispered, her voice shaky.
“Here,” Loki said, stepping closer. Gently, he took the bracelet from the box and reached for her wrist. “Let me help you put it on.”
His touch was steady as he fumbled briefly with the clasp. “You see this?” He pointed to what looked like a small glass gem set into the bracelet. “Well…” He secured the clasp with a quiet click.
As Sigyn watched, the gem shimmered, its hues swirling and shifting—purple to gold, blue to crimson, and back again. It mirrored the way her own eyes transformed with her moods.
“I enchanted it,” Loki said, a touch of pride in his voice. “The gem responds to your emotions, just like your eyes.”
Sigyn stared at the bracelet, her heart swelling with unspoken gratitude. This wasn’t just a gift—it was a piece of her, carefully recreated by the person who knew her best.
“You made this?” Sigyn asked, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling with disbelief. “F-for me?”
“Well, in a manner of speaking,” Loki replied, attempting casualness, though the faintest hint of pride glimmered in his green eyes. “I didn’t forge the gold myself, but I selected the design. And the enchantment—that was all me.” He met her gaze, his tone softening, the weight of his words hanging in the air. “It changes color the same way your eyes do. And should you ever decide to take it off, it won’t work for anyone else. It’s yours, and yours alone.”
Sigyn stared at the bracelet, her chest tightening as a surge of emotions swept through her. Loki had given her gifts before—a cake on her birthday, sweets when she was upset, even the occasional prank—but this was different. This wasn’t just thoughtful; it was deeply personal, a piece of her crafted into something tangible.
Her vision blurred as fresh tears spilled over, trailing down her cheeks unchecked. She tried to hold them back, but the ache in her chest was overwhelming—an impossible mixture of gratitude, sadness, and the knowledge that this moment would soon become a memory.
Wordlessly, she bent down, her fingers grazing the soft grass as she plucked a tiny flower from the ground. She turned it over in her fingers, studying its delicate petals before holding it out to him.
“Here,” she said simply, her voice trembling. “Take this. It will be my parting gift to you.”
Loki’s lips quirked into a soft laugh, the sound lighter than the heavy atmosphere. “I mean no offense,” he teased, “but I think my gift is a bit more impressive.”
Despite herself, Sigyn laughed, the sound fragile and broken by the tears that continued to fall. She glanced down at the bracelet, noticing its color flickering—pink, then gray, and finally black, as though it couldn’t decide what to reflect.
“Is it—did I do something wrong?” Loki asked suddenly, his voice edged with concern. “Is it not working properly?”
“No,” she assured him quickly, shaking her head. “It’s working perfectly. I just…” She hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “I suppose I’m just a little… shifty right now.” She let out a faint giggle, though it sounded hollow, and wiped at her tears.
“Don’t cry, Sig,” Loki murmured, his voice dropping to a low, gentle tone.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I just… I don’t want to leave.”
“I know,” he said softly, his expression unguarded in a way she rarely saw. His eyes dropped to the bracelet, now entirely black, and he added quietly, “I don’t want you to leave either.”
Sigyn looked up at him, her vision blurred by tears, and found his own eyes glistening. The realization stole her breath—Loki, the trickster prince, was crying. She had never seen him like this, so raw and vulnerable.
His hand lifted slowly, almost hesitantly, and his thumb brushed against her cheek, wiping away the tears that streaked her face. His touch was warm, careful, as though she might break.
“Please don’t cry,” he said again, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t stand to see you cry.”
She let out a small, trembling laugh. “That’s funny… coming from the boy who used to make me cry just to see how long it would take for me to chase you.”
A ghost of a smile played on his lips. “I was a terrible friend, wasn’t I?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You weren’t. You were the best friend I ever had.”
For a moment, they stood frozen, the weight of unspoken words and unshed tears pressing down on them. Loki’s hand remained on her cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles against her skin.
The sun had begun its slow descent, casting the meadow in hues of gold and amber. The shadows stretched long around them, a silent reminder that time was slipping away.
Sigyn tore her gaze away, glancing at the horizon. “I have to go,” she murmured, her voice breaking.
When she looked back at him, she saw a single tear slipping down his cheek. The sight of it unraveled her completely. Without thinking, she surged forward, her lips pressing against his in a kiss that was both desperate and tender.
For a moment, he froze, caught off guard, but then he responded. His hand slid to the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair as he gently pulled her closer. Her hands rested against his chest, feeling the steady, rapid thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palms.
The kiss ended as quickly as it began, the weight of the moment leaving them breathless. Sigyn pulled back, her cheeks flushed, her heart pounding in her chest.
“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice barely audible.
Before Loki could respond, she turned and ran, her feet carrying her away from the meadow and the boy who had just seen her heart laid bare.
“Sigyn!” Loki called after her, his voice tinged with desperation. But she didn’t stop.
At the edge of the meadow, she turned back, her red hair catching the fading sunlight like a halo. Her sad smile twisted his heart.
“I will never forget you, Loki,” she called, her voice a solemn vow.
And then she disappeared into the trees, leaving Loki standing alone in the meadow, his hand still hovering where her lips had been just moments before.