He was not pining. Nor was he moping. And definitely not over Sigyn. Well, maybe over the fact that she ran the fuck away with a nasty head wound without bothering to tell him where she was going or letting him have Eir look at it. Or maybe because she felt the need to paint all over his damn bed so now he didn't have a choice but to think about her all the time, even in a room he was usually able to avoid that by giving himself other company.
Which he couldn't even fucking do now because how many of those other ladies were probably familiar with her swirly paintings and would say something? Especially with her missing. Not that he was entirely sure that trying to force thoughts away with alternate activities was going to work anymore anyway, but now there would be questions and...
Loki looked up at the painting on the bed and frowned. Oh... oh, that clever little... She just cock-blocked him for the rest of time, didn't she? Because she couldn't have him the way she wanted to? How fucking selfish was that? Frigg certainly was training them well over there, wasn't she? Even the more needy ladies weren't that fucking low and sometimes... His eyes narrowed. He would have been angry, and perhaps even a little proud -later amused, if he wasn't genuinely concerned about Sigyn's welfare.
But he didn't particularly want Thor going on a smashy-smashy mission either, that might either make it worse for Sigyn or end with Loki's head being smashed in all because Sigyn was being pissy that he wouldn't use her like some common trollop. And even if wanted to just to be nasty and prove a damn point now, he couldn't... fucking principles and shit. Well, fuck her then. He'd just have a bonfire. A nice large, glorious one... and then build himself a new damn bed.
Later. Once this was all sorted out.
“When have I ever been love sick?” Loki slid Thor a very narrow look. “That would require me actually believing that such nonsensical bullshit exists in any real capacity other than to manipulate people into believing it does. You're young, Thor,” he teased and slapped him on the arm before searching for a shirt, tucking the brooch in a pocket so it would hopefully be forgotten. “You still have dreams and ideals.” He chuckled and pulled a shirt on, “I'm an old man. I've been around the damn nine worlds too many times, it makes a man cynical.” So, he was not pining. Or moping.
Except maybe. Just a little. Dammit.
“Speaking of which, why would you ever think jotun have stolen her?” Loki frowned, trying to play stupid, because it was possible since she had gotten herself captured before by joutn -not that Thor would know that, “which of course, by her I'm going to assume you mean the one everyone won't shut up about even though they probably didn't know her damn name until Frigg's hens started clucking about it.”