If you could only see the way she loves me
Then maybe you would understand
Why I feel this way about our love
And what I must do
If you could only see how blue her eyes can be when she says
When she says she loves me
13000 Years Ago
The day had dawned bright and warm the weather outside the small circular window was filled with the promise of of a beautiful day. She stretched and yawned not really sure what she would do this morning but certain that it would be rewarding in her never ending quest to make the city she lived in. The city of her birth as beautiful as she saw it.
She did not linger under the warm covers, for there was no warm body next to her, which informed her that Loki had risen already and was either surveying a site, or in his study creatingshe loved his thoughts on how things were. How he could take simple things and craft them into bigger and beautiful things, things that made the city glow in the skyline, that still functioned and made into living building for those who so sought such places.
Her goals were less magnificent but no less important at least to her.
She choose flowers, she grew them, she listed to the sound of the tree’s whispering there secrets, telling her the things that usually only the plants knew. It gave her insight on how better to train her plants, to give them something more. Sigyn liked this and used it for no profit, for no acknowledgement in any circles other than those who loved flowers, the little children who she cut roses or expensive flowers for and the birds which landed to sing to her as she worked. The other was her animals, her blessed little creatures who came to see her. Who brought her seeds from other places who wanted nothing of her but her.
The blonde woman watched the antics of a squirrel as it danced along a tree limb, making a death defying leap to another tree that had her catching her breath in worry. One small hand at her heart she could feel it beating in her chest, thudding faster. The little creature was well. Sigyn laughed in spite of herself or maybe at herself. These creatures had spent the years since there birth doing stunts like that.
She herself liked to jump from high places, to see if she could fly, to feel the wind. She liked to climb up to the highest points in some of her husband’s buildings just to stand and look out over the city. It was her city her home. She felt a swell of pride and love for it because it was what she had always known.
Sigyn was the daughter of Freya though they were close enough in age to be good friends rather than more like mother and daughter. She discussed things with Freya that she couldn’t talk about with anyone else. Freya was everything she wasn’t. She was fierce and powerful, she was a woman who took what she wanted. Sigyn was a paler version of her mother, she was happy with what she had.
The other problem that came with being the daughter of Freya, was that she was an ideal catch, she was perfect like most of her kind was. She had long silken golden hair with only the lightest touches of red, so it reflected like the rays of sunshine when the dawn first glowed.Her eyes were a periwinkle blue and flicked with a darker blue and she was as pale as the softest peach roses in her garden. A beauty who didn’t care that she was beautiful that didn’t notice that she was. Though she was told she was often enough.
Still Sigyn was not interested in the foolish people here, she was not worried about those who saw her as a trophy to be won, or even as a goddess to be worshiped and coveted.She had her man even if he wasn’t the conventional ideal.
She waved to him when she saw him, she often startled him with her desire to be up in such places. Yet for those who could travel the silver lines of teleportation it was nothing really. He was taller than she was and slender, not as gawky as he had been in his youth. He had filled out very nicely indeed. His dark hair was longer than normal, and often disheveled from his constant running his hands through it as he was working on something. Perched on the end of his nose, a nose that was possible to sharp for his features, but just another endearing trait to her was a pair of oval glasses. Something not many needed and frowned on because it was a physical imperfection. It was adorable to her, he looked cute in them. Than there was his eyes, emerald pools, her favorite shade as well. That always had a spark of mischief or light in them when he was happy, when he was working , when he was up to something or when he was with her so it was quiet often that they held that light of there own.
His hand came up in response to wave to her though it was not all with the blink of an eye he had joined her where she stood.
Everything that bothered her faded when emerald green eyes met periwinkle blue over his spectacles. His arm slipping around her to pull her close. While all was not well it was easy to forget it with him there. Looking out over a city, only just waking up.