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Loki's missing wife part 3 Loki and SigynPart three:
Time for Loki seemed to pass slowly; he played chess with his gradually healing wife, read to her and told her all the news and gossip of Asgard. The god of mischief quickly found that he truly enjoyed making Sigyn laugh by telling her as many silly stories or stupid rumours as he was aware of.
It took some time but eventually Thor and Tony had found Sigyn’s staff and returned it to her, this had helped the lady greatly as it made it easier for her to tap into her magic, this had meant in turn that Sigyn begin to heal quicker and with more precision than before. Thor also informed Loki that the sect which had taken his wife, were either dead or in prison, the god of mischief had taken this news with an equanimity which surprised Thor. The thunder god however was grateful for his brothers acceptance of the Midgardians form of justice for the men who had harmed his wife, as Loki bent on revenge would as he well knew not have been a pretty thing for those involved in tak
Loki's missing wife part 2 Loki and SigynPart two:
Loki continued to sit quietly with his wife holding her hand, Thor left them alone at some point but the blue eyed mischief maker was unsure how long ago that had been now. As the day wore on and the evening settled over Asgard Frigg came into the room baring a tray of food for Loki, she addressed her son gently. “Thor told me Sigyn woke earlier.”
Loki looked up at his mother and replied in a quiet voice. “Yes, for a little.”
“I am glad to hear it, hopefully that means she will get better.”
“I hope so mother, I could not abide losing her.”
Gently the queen of the immortal Asgardian’s laid a comforting hand onto his shoulder before speaking to her son. “Maybe after this experience you will be more understanding others pain from now on Loki.”
“Yes I believe I will mother. Mother may I ask you something?”
“What is it my son?”
“Did you ever resent me because I was not your true son?
Cherry blossom carelessly falling
The open sky to me is calling.
The vague drawing of life’s dreams
Helplessly they are scattered by the wind.
Blown away is the bloom of youth
The dreams of that time are half forgotten
Fading like mist under the suns warm rays.
As grown now I turn away,
From the childhood self
Wondering about the next day
And all the days that are to follow.
Stranger LoveI am not the sunlit wing-print
splayed out on the bedroom wall.
I am not the dark mass forming
in a corner of an airless hall.
I am not the viscous vengeance
where you sink your spinning wheels.
I am not the leaky bucket
hung up on your wishing well.
You are not my soul mate missing
wandering a winter's night.
You are not the sound of angels
singing by a candle's light.
You are not the rasp of fingers
fumbling with a hasp of steel.
You are not the tattered towel
soaking up the things I feel.
I am the oblivious child,
dancing where the wildflowers are.
You are my unwitting captive
lighting up a jelly jar.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More