aloft, by wingbeat

[purposeful_glory]

Loki learns to become a bird.

She can be only one sort of bird, a swift, bad at takeoff from the ground but tireless and quick in the air - and who needs to take off from the ground when the transformation leaves one six feet in the air from a standing start? It would be nearly as hard to add another creature to this spell's arsenal as it was to manage the swift in the first place. She is satisfied with the bird for now; she slips out of the palace and flies, invisible, for hours, and lets Thor tease her about the assignations that must have kept her up late and left her tired in the morning.

(She sometimes has assignations too, but fewer with the first blush of hormonal need worn away. Sometimes Sigyn, sometimes whoever else. Mostly: flying.)

A few months after she has begun to spend time as a bird (and picked up the idea of teleportation, which will be desperately difficult but not, she thinks, outside her reach) there is a parade. They have these every few decades, on the bicentennial or centennial anniversaries of things. The queen, the king, the princesses, a lot of neatly marching warriors, decorative performers with competent dance steps and pleasing voices and desperately incompetent illusions, all winding around in a slow trek around the capital city to be looked at and wave.

It is somehow even duller to sit in a parade and wave and smile when she could be being a bird.

But she can't, not really, so she sits, smiles, tries to remember without checking her notes what this is the twenty-seventh centennial of exactly, waves her hand at the crowd.

And then there's a crackling burst of light and Frigg, the king, her father, has collapsed from their vehicle to the street.

The smoking staff of power aimed at them is just barely visible in the distance among the crowd. Thor has already seized her hammer; Thor will handle that -

Loki leaps after her father, to duck another blast, to see the extent of the injury. "HEALER!" she cries. "IS THERE A HEALER?"

Comments

[purposeful_glory]

"Well, I don't think it would do any good if I asked her not to. She's never liked me much. She might listen to you."

[einridi]

Thor sighs unhappily.

[purposeful_glory]

"I won't blame you if you don't ask her. I'd hoped never to put you in a position like this."

[einridi]

"I... I don't know what to do."

[purposeful_glory]

"You don't have to do anything. She may well decide to make a special exception for Tesseract-touched princesses the same way everyone makes an exception for one-eyed queens doing things not technically sorcery."

[einridi]

She makes a conflicted face.

[purposeful_glory]

That was probably pushing it a little.

[einridi]

Apparently it was.

[purposeful_glory]

"Sorry."

[einridi]

Sigh. Nod.

[purposeful_glory]

"Well, since no sentence seems to be immediately forthcoming and I haven't been expressly forbidden to do anything - unless you have further questions, I rather want to go find Sigyn."

[einridi]

She hesitates, then shakes her head.

[purposeful_glory]

Loki is so tempted to turn invisible, or into a bird, or both -

No. She can find Sigyn on foot. Or at least, she can leave this room on foot. If the rumor mill makes the streets impassable for the princess then they will have to be passable for a redheaded boy until she finds who she's looking for.

She inclines her head to Thor, then goes.

[thevictorious]

And so, eventually: Sigyn's little house, where surprisingly few of his many acquaintances are ever invited to visit.

[purposeful_glory]

Knock knock.

[thevictorious]

He opens the door.

"Hello."

[purposeful_glory]

"Hello. Someone shot my father full in the chest during a parade and he's currently in perfect health. Guess my mood."

[thevictorious]

"Displeased. That is my guess," says Sigyn. "Do you want to come in?"

[purposeful_glory]

"Yes. Frigg - has taken it rather well, but Odin is furious and Thor does not understand and at this moment I wish very badly to be understood."

[thevictorious]

He opens the door wider and makes a welcoming gesture.

[purposeful_glory]

She goes in. She flops on the nearest floppable surface. "Thank you."

[thevictorious]

The nearest floppable surface is a very comfortable padded bench. Sigyn keeps a cozy house.

"You're perfectly welcome, of course."

He goes over to sit next to the flopped princess.

[purposeful_glory]

Snuggle.

"They only know I can heal, that's all that's come up. And Thor's the only one who knows I invented the spell. My parents just got 'the Tesseract taught me'. True as far as it goes."

[thevictorious]

Snuggle.

"Was it very public?"

[purposeful_glory]

"Spectacularly. My spell isn't flashy, but everyone near where we were in the parade on that side of the vehicle saw me shout for a healer and not get one and saw Frigg sit up regardless."