“Dullards don't generally have to worry about surviving whatever moronic quest their quote-unquote friends have dragged them along for or sent them on.” Or having said friends just sort of look at their fancy new trinkets, shrug and walk away -without so much as a thanks Loki or aid, when the dwarfs came to collect his head. Thank creation he was clever enough to solve that himself. He didn't speak to Odin for quite a while after that and that had nothing to do with the fact that his lips were sewn shut.
He shook his head, “I don't expect you to conform because I don't expect anyone to conform. Really, it's almost as if she has some damn cult going on over there. I don't see it with nearly as much fervor elsewhere. And certainly Jord... well, that's another story,” that he wasn't getting into. At all. “My mother either, actually... they know how to do it, but they do other things to survive as well, and neither of them rely on a husband for it.” Well... Jord had been married previously, possibly twice. Loki had no idea where Frigg came from in that familial equation, but from what he knew Odin wasn't keeping her on, hidden from Frigg's radar. And Laufey... was on her own unless he was there. Farbauti could rot.
“I don't want to shove you into anything, but... you are not like the other women in that hall Frigg likes to pretend is full of maidens when she knows damn well what goes on as soon as she leaves the room. She is not stupid, at all, Sigyn. And even if she didn't have access to Hlidskjalf, which she does, I'm sure she can talk her husband's ravens into giving her info. If there is such as thing as an immortal enemy... she is mine.” Loki sighed, bare chest heaving heavily in the firelight and looked down at her. “I really do not want you caught up in that.”
He walked to grab the candlestick from where he had set it down and picked it back up, “but you are not like the rest of them at all. I know. I knew it the second I saw you. Those ladies? They aren't looking for husbands. It's like an itch they want someone to help scratch, but only once in awhile, otherwise they want their relative freedom. Why else are there whispered words and sneaking around? Darkened niches in Halls when everyone else is too drunk to notice? Sneaking in here to surprise me? Sneaking me in there...” His voice was more monotoned, dead serious. “If there is any part of you that thinks I have not been sneaked in and out of Fensalir, let me end that right now.”
He snorted back a laugh, inappropriately, given the delicate nature of the conversation. But, given his hatred of Frigg, his next comment amused him a great deal. “Though, a late morning walk of shame right passed her Royal Bitchiness was totally worth that death glare. I rather hope she choked on her breakfast oat cake.” Back to his point. “But, my point is, Sig... none of them want commitment of any kind from me. Because I cannot. I can never make that guarantee.” Candlestick in hand, he looked at her more full on than before, actually really meeting her eyes. “And since you are not like them, because those ladies would not have taken my no for an answer if they were already here... I know that you aren't going to be like them either. That's not you.” He sighed.
“Honesty, because I have no reason to lie to you, I have far too much respect for who you are to take advantage of that. And my lapse in judgment at your mother's proved to me that I cannot trust myself around you anymore.”