Chapter 10 – Marital “Hygge”

The sun had already risen well up in the sky, Sol driving her carriage full speed as she flees Hati until the day Ragnarök ensues and she will be eaten by the hungry wolf. 

“Morning,” Loki whispered softly before pressing a gentle kiss to Sigyn’s forehead. A tired smile spread across the face of the still half sleeping goddess. She was nestled up against him, her arm across his chest, one leg draped over his thigh under the blanket. With a light touch he stroked her cheek, pushing a strand of hair out of her face and tugging it gently behind her ear. She gave a soft, tired moan of acknowledgement. Loki smiled to himself, the epitome of loveliness pressed up against him. What could be better than this? 

In the rest of the house, he knew, the rest of the family was sleeping peacefully. With a soft laugh he pondered how it was possible this could have come to be, that he of all the residents of Asgard should be the one with the wholesome family. Without really thinking about it, the act coming so naturally now that he was free of his chains, he let his fingers run softly over Sigyn’s arm, tracing her skin, feeling the warmth of her against his fingertips. Slowly waking up, she copied the movement, gently stroking his chest, too lazy to move her hand away from where it had rested all night. 

“I love you,” he whispered softly against the top of her head before pressing a kiss into her untidy hair. 

“Of course you do,” she mumbled. “What’s not to love?” she asked with a joking tone. Loki chuckled softly. 

“Well, your taste in men has always puzzled me,” he admitted. 

“Hey,” Sigyn said forcefully, hitting him mockingly in the ribs. “Don’t you dare insult my husband,” she scolded. “He’s a wonderful man, you just don’t see him as clearly as I do.” Loki smiled and stroked his thumb over her cheek, down to her jaw, and then letting his hand rest on the back of her neck, his fingers entangled in her hair. 

“Soon it’ll just be the two of us,” she whispered mournfully. Loki didn’t reply at first, he too had noticed how Nari had lit up as Max had talked about the law, or how Vali never seemed to want to leave Fenrir’s side. Even Hel it seemed was wanting to branch out from her job as ruler of Helheim. Soon, only Sleipnir would be content to stay on the little island with them. 

“Well,” Loki pondered. “Maybe it’s time for us to go too then.” Sigyn lifted her head and looked up at him. 

“Go where?” she asked. 

“I don’t know. Out there, in the world.” Sigyn smiled softly. 

“You know we can’t do that, eight legged horses aren’t a thing in Midgard, nor is having a wolf for a son.” Loki half shrugged, not wanting to move the shoulder she had been resting on. 

“Well, who cares,” he suggested. “So what if they don’t believe in us anymore, that doesn’t mean we have to conform. We can go out, be who we are, do what we want – what are they gonna do to stop us?” Sigyn almost laughed at the proposal. 

“Yeah, we’ll just go out into the world as if there is nothing strange about our family at all,” she said mockingly. “I’m sure we’ll be welcomed with open arms.” 

“Max and Ian welcomed us,” Loki reminded her, all joking aside now. That was true, of course, but Sigyn couldn’t help thinking that not all humans would react the same if they found out the old gods were real and still alive. 

“Let’s just enjoy the rest of the Yule days,” she said, not much hope for the future in her voice. Loki smiled a sorrowful, knowing kind of smile up at the ceiling. She had fought so hard to get their family back together, and he was the last one to suggest she simply give it all up, but he also couldn’t live in the denial she had cloaked herself in. The children – though, age wise they were hardly children anymore, were not content to simply live on the island for the rest of time. Nor should they be. He had to admit, he was starting to go a little stir crazy too – had he not had Sigyn by his side, and two thousand years of touched starved silence to make up for, he would have gone mad already. But Sigyn could never be persuaded or won over, she had to come to the conclusions on her own, had to choose to agree – and that was why he loved her, after all. Well, one of the reasons. He couldn’t run circles around her, couldn’t talk her into things she didn’t want to do or agreed with. He simply had to trust that she would get to the right decision eventually, and get there before their kids got too sick of her. Until then though… 

With a mischievous smile he reached over to the bedside table and opened the small drawer there, carefully pulling out something small and, judging by the way he was handling it, delicate. 

“What the Freya have I got here?” he asked softly, holding up a small branch – or, well, not really a branch, barely even a twig, more like a single thin and long leaf barely connected to two small, white berries. Sigyn laughed indulgently and pressed a kiss into his cheek. Loki reached up and placed the small mistletoe on the pillow above her head, and with a gentle finger stroking her temple he pressed a kiss onto her lips. 

And with that soft wakening we now have only two days left of Yule, and one day left of the year. How much mischief can still be fitted into the year, and how long will it take for Sigyn to accept that her sons are ready to spread their wings and leave the nest?