Loki wants to be queen one day and has not neglected learning to talk to people, learning the names of important sorts - but she has neglected assembling close friends (why should she do such a thing when she can tell them so little about herself?), and piggybacks on Thor's. So she is invited along when Thor decides she wants to go hunting for giant aurochs and thereby enjoy the supposedly superior flavor of fresh-killed beef one has personally killed.
And when Sigyn asks if he can come, well, nobody contradicts Thor when she says "Very well," even though this follows a longish pause.
Aurochs, come out, come out, wherever you are.
Lævateinn shoots out to colossal length in her hands, bladed on both ends, and she kicks off the ground as soon as she hits it to leap back wurmward. She can't match the wurm's reach if it decides it wants to strike her, but she can be really hard to swallow, if she keeps her grip on her weapon.
The wurm gets stabbed in a coil. Its skin is thick stuff easily mistaken for mossy ground, easily scratched but not easily parted, and trying to cut it too deeply will make it easy to wrench her spear away - but all she wants is to re-distract it, away from Sigyn. Its jaws snap shut on air and it looks between its possible targets. Its coils shift beyond its swaying head.
"Run!" she hisses, except then a tree behind them creaks, and it turns out there is more of the wurm there.
There is more of the wurm everywhere.
"Fuck!"
Of course, the last one was much smaller. And he had a longer sword. But he can still manage it, if he is both perfect and lucky.
No good. The wurm is paying attention to Sigyn now.
Success. Bounding from coil to coil, he leads its head in a circle until the neck can twist no farther and he is close enough to scramble up the dorsal ridge - crouch atop its head while it rears in surprise, brace himself between scaly crests, take a two-handed grip on his sword, and stab the wurm's eye as precisely and forcefully as he can manage.
He is perfect. He is not lucky. Though he drives the full length of his sword into its eye, it is not enough; the monster is not slain. And a moment later, its violent thrashings dislodge him from his perch.
Loki stabs desperately at its length - she can't be sure of not hitting Sigyn herself if she goes for the head right now - but it's undeterred.
When Sigyn comes down again, he does so into the wurm's mouth, and he is swallowed, quick as a wink.
But Sigyn is not one to give way in the face of such trivial obstacles as being swallowed by an enormous monster. He draws a pair of knives and manages to get himself stuck in the beast's throat, although he lacks the proper leverage to climb back into its mouth from there, especially while it is still moving around so vigorously.
Except nobody's watching, now.
Loki blinds the wurm in its other eye with a blob of darkness, deafens it with a localized thunderclap, can't really do anything about its sense of smell but likes her odds much better when it's down two senses.
It flings coils at her last known location but she's not there anymore - well, not on the ground. She's vaulted up on Lævateinn, and the part of it stuck in the ground is all over spikes, and the wurm flinches back when it encounters them. The weapon is knocked over and Loki with it, but she has perfect grace, she lands on her feet, she shrinks Lævateinn and grows it out again, takes advantage of the retreating coils and confused sniffing head to advance towards the only final target on this thing.
She could cut it in half. Twice. It would be smaller then but not less alive. She has to get the brain.
One eye is occupied by a sword; getting past it would be difficult. She aims at her blob of dark. And Lævateinn is as long as she needs it to be.
The death isn't instant, and Loki is knocked away from her lodged weapon by a thrashing coil, which isn't good for her, she didn't wear her armor to go hunting aurochs -
But no one's watching. She fixes it. She fixes it and seizes the, what is this now, a swordstaff, and drives it a little farther into the landwurm's brain.
And when it's no longer heaving, only twitching, she shrinks Lævateinn out of the eye socket and turns it into a saw and starts decapitating the thing. She's not sure how far Sigyn is.
The blob of darkness disappears.
By this time, Sigyn has made a little progress on dragging himself back up the worm's gullet. It's slow going: crushed by the pressure, unable to breathe, and with a strong suspicion that whatever the reason his legs hurt like that, it will take more than a day's rest to cure. But it's a more appealing prospect than patiently waiting for death.
Well, Sigyn isn't right at the top of its throat, so she has to cut farther. She starts slitting open the underside of the landwurm.
It's... not good. Less the sort of injury that leads to having exciting tales to tell around the campfire, more the sort that leads to not going on any more hunting trips.
He's breathing, isn't he? He made a gesture. If that was a gesture. Come on, be going to live without help -
He's still coughing. Some blood comes up. That's never a good sign. Internal damage - maybe a punctured lung.
She'd better not take too much longer to decide.
"I will have your silence," she snarls, and then she puts her hand on his forehead and he is healed.
He coughs one more time; reflects for a moment; and says, "Well. Who knew being swallowed by a landwurm could be so uneventful."
She snorts. She pulls one of his knives out of the walls of the wurm's esophagus and hands it to him.
"Thank you," he says. "If you are ever considering being swallowed by a monster, I have to say I recommend against it. If it'd had me another minute, who knows what could've happened. As it is, I may have to sit out the rest of this hunting expedition."
"Yes, I imagine so. I'm not in much of a hunting mood anymore either. Let's drag its head to the others," suggests Loki.
His impression of a person injured enough to be slightly impaired but not enough to worry about permanent damage is impeccable. In the process of getting the head wrapped up to carry - it takes the pair of them working together to lift it - he acquires enough miscellaneous cuts to explain all the blood.
It's a heavy head, but they can haul it. Drag. Drag. Draaaag.
"Sister!"
"Oh, not such an exciting one," says Sigyn. "I put my sword in its eye. It swallowed me. She stabbed its other eye and retrieved me from its interior, somewhat the worse for the experience but still, as you can see, entirely undigested."