A/N: Awwwwww yisssss! I am publishing this! I finally ventured into this fandom, I did. Loki is my favourite character-like ever. I love Tom I love how he portrays him, I seriously thank him for existing and giving us this, with the help of Branagh. And now I write this; three years I've been thinking about it I actually got around doing it and though I have the other story going on, it won't suffer because they are both my babies and - to be honest - this won't be having as regular updates as the other. BUT I love this the same.

OC in the tag is actually Sigyn canon wife, yo (but there will be many of my own invention to be sure) and it's my re-imagining of the character, keeping in mind both the Nordic myths and Marvel-verse. But the interpretation is all mine. I actually have the whole story mapped out in my head now it's only a matter of writing it.

Okay, rant over, time for the introductory chapter. It starts exactly where Thor the Dark World ends, a couple of days later etc etc. From then on it won't be canon for I have no idea what Marvel has in store for my wonderful baby. Now let the fun begin! I hope you get to love this as much as I do.

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It was a sunny day in Asgard. The throne room had its walls down for the king wanted to look over his vast and beautiful capital that looked like it was drowning in its gold colours. The natural light made everything shinier and all that mesmerising to behold. There wasn't a lot of green in sight though, and Gods knew this king loved green…but he didn't mind. He could still see – even though not as well as Heimdall – people on horses running here and there, people moving their merchandise with carriages and soldiers patrolling their aerial borders.

Heimdall himself was standing watch on the Bifrost, where it connected with the Rainbow Bridge; his sword was firmly positioned in front of him, as a warning to anyone who might have wanted to trespass. Not that anyone would dare. Those who have seen him wield said sword either didn't live to tell the tale or they were his comrades.

Of course, he was on the far end of the beautiful city; on the other ends it was just ad beautiful and lively as ever and even more so what now with the threat of the Dark Elves being extinguished. Their prince Thor had fought well against Malekith, their ruler, and managed to kill him before the Aether did any damage. There was a momentary patch of darkness on the sky that day, but it was immediately gone.

The people rejoiced for their prince's success, had already mourned their queen's passing so now all was well…well, all but the king of course, who now had to get used to living without his beloved wife, with whom he'd spend hundreds upon hundreds of years with. That pain and loss he was feeling was common knowledge to everyone but it was clear and there to see for the maidens or ladies that took care of him.

Even before his wife's passing, even before the fallen prince – as they'd come to dub Loki – those women were keeping check of his health, company to his wife and also took care of the palace. Some of them were healers; some of them were educated maids. But all of them had one thing in common: long term service to the king. Thus they harboured feelings of sympathy to the king's sudden intricacies or particularly odd requests. They had an understanding between them. In fact, many times had they talked together for what sort of impact the queen's death would have on the absolute king. Coupled with the news that even his estranged, previously incarcerated son had been killed in an effort to avenge his mother's death…they were certain they would witness a significant change in him.

The king of Asgard and ruler of the Nine realms, Odin All father, was known for his strict but fair ways of handling his peoples. But they were strict nonetheless. And everyone knew that it was Queen Frigga who mellowed his heart and supported him no matter what; it was inevitable that her passing would leave him somehow lacking or damaged—or both. Thus the women started talking about it before they could spot it in his behaviour; they wanted to have a wholesome way of dealing with him: if anything, he needed consistency.

So when he asked for the first odd thing, to look over all of the treaties and documents he ever had agreed to, either by his signature – meaning his blood in the shape of a fingerprint usually – or by his word and even the ones from before, they took no heed of the fact he had never done anything similar before. They knew they'd be seeing a lot of that.

They didn't even complain when the All father requested he revaluated each and every one of them, too. He'd been looking over many things, he had stated, both with men and women who worked in the palace. Also, he wanted to ensure everyone occupied a place that fitted them most and they weren't there out of simple convenience either for themselves or for someone else—a lord that wanted something covered. If anything, in the royal palace, games such as these were most frequent. Most of his life he had simply never addressed the issue properly due to his own convenience…but now they all knew things would be changing for them.

And on this day, this sunny, gorgeous day, was to be held the revaluation of the chamber-maids. They were supposed to be trustworthy women who served directly under the king and queen, serving the royal family and its guests alone. They were not supposed to offer their services to anyone outside the palace, too unless they were previously told by one of the three messengers of the royal family, or – of course – by a member of the royal family themselves. Apparently, that called for honest and undoubted trust as these women, one way or the other, knew many secrets that could prove dangerous should they be found out.

That was the main reason the king wanted to hold this evaluation himself, even if he was dissuaded in the end by one of his advisors. Still, like any other time, he would bear witness to the procedure and make the final assessment.

"I am so very worried," an older woman said out loud, speaking what seemed to be the truth for all twenty-three women. She was wearing the same nice-looking, brown dress that any other woman in this room was wearing. But she had the folds of her dress cover her completely, not even one part of her skin visible. Her hair was already greying but her skin looked unblemished.

"Relax Helga, you're probably the one who has less to fear; you have been in their service for over a thousand years," a blond, beautiful middle-aged woman said with nothing but honesty and smoothness in her voice. "I too am a little anxious, but no worry clouds my mind for I know I am good at what I do and most loyal to the crown."

"I appreciate neither of you," a sour looking woman snapped, tossing her auburn hair with both hands "for trying to make it sound like the rest of us lack in those departments."

She older woman snorted. "How do I make you feel lacking when all I said was-?"

"Please, do not start a fight now; I'll be the first one to go in," another woman truly implored the others, what with her voice being so strained. She even looked upset, playing with the hem of the standard dress she was wearing. Her warm, brown eyes were pleading, as if the rest of her wasn't enough and in a rare show of sympathy, they did stop their arguement before it grew.

"Forgive me Brigitte," the sour one started, not at all apologetic.

No one said anything.

And in that silence they remained until the time had come and a very equipped, almost battle-ready guard came and took Brigitte inside. She was too upset for her own good they thought so it wasn't just a matter of politeness when almost all wished her "good fortune" before she disappeared behind the double doors.

But she never came out. The same guard came back though, taking another one inside. And that was when they knew they'd be leaving from another door. Or did this just mean that she want selected and she was to be relocated? They had no idea—no one would tell them anything. Were they putting them through the same test thus by not letting them interact they were aiming for unadulterated results? Or was this a trick on their minds, another test all by itself?

Men came and women went in what felt like hours yet it was only less than five minutes from the moment one was picked and then the other. When the hour was gone enough to make it feel like ages but not too much to feel like an eternity, there were only five women left. In truth, it was only 86 minutes later but none of them kept time. "Sigyn," Helga said out of the blue, referring to someone she wasn't even looking at "if you squeeze your hands any more than that, I'm afraid we'll have to call the healers to put a finger back in its place."

Still, she garnered the attention and the guilty look of the woman she was talking to: Sigyn looked up red in the face, only to see the oldest chambermaid to look off into the distance, at the bright sun that could be seen through the halls of the palace. Sigyn gave a small smile, as she knew Helga would turn to look at her – which she did, almost immediately – and then looked down at her hands, that had unknowingly separated the moment she was scolded. "Atta girl," she was commended kindly and though far away, Sigyn felt so comforted as if Helga had just patted her back.

"Why are you trying to soothe her of all people?" That was a lanky, strict woman who spoke, gingerly and evidently annoyed. "She used to be the queen's pet."

"Maybe that's all the more reason for her to worry, Nessa."

"Unlikely," she continued unfazed, no matter how uncomfortable by this the rest three, Sigyn included, looked. Nessa's intricately braided hair did not move a single inch. "If she so much throws her voice and push out a tear or two, she'll be more than safe."

"I doubt the king is so easily influenced," Helga contradicted her "that he will overlook any shortcomings, if glaring enough. After all, we all have shortcomings; it depends on what they are and how much that matches the wishes of the king."

"…I suppose you are right." Nessa closed her eyes and sighed. "Uh, I'm sorry Sigyn, girls, I'm just…I'm sorry."

"We all fear for our future, it's alright," the one closest to her said, taking hold of her hand. Nessa squeezed back. When she looked up, she saw Sigyn staring at her and the moment their eyes locked, she nodded once and looked away from Nessa.

Then the guard came and announced it was Helga's turn; the customary by now "good luck" was spoken by all the remaining women and she was gone behind the double doors, too. Silence stretched and they all felt safe in it; the only one who broke it temporarily was the guard who announced the next name and took another one with him. In the very end, only Sigyn and another woman was left. The other woman was named Erica and she was at most thirty years older than her. She had beautiful black hair, long and straight. Her eyes were the same black, looking at her co-worker in an aloof manner.

When Sigyn noticed her, she smiled and then turned her eyes to the side, suddenly melancholic. That far-away quality remained… "I always loved these dresses," she said suddenly, caressing the fabric "though the colours do not match with me. Too white, my complexion is, and brown and pale do not look good together. Not with my coal hair." It was like a ritual, her hand going up and down like that.

Something strange ran down Sigyn's back causing her to shiver. "Why do you speak as such?"

The question did not seem to have any effect on her, she simply smiled. This once though the smile remained, but it was sad and…resigned. "Why the inquiry?"

"It makes my heart beat faster, your speech. There's something uncanny in the air about you. Will you be going somewhere—do you know of this?"

"Huh," Erica did, interested now, but she still wouldn't look at her again "why do you make this inquiry I wonder…?"

"It's that I have this feeling…that you know you will be removed from your post, even if nothing of the sort was ever stated to any of us."

A laugh escaped the bleak woman and as it went on, it became all the more terrible. Sigyn was then scared, looking everywhere around her for someone who might turn out to be of assistance in case something went wrong; she had read and heard many a story where the beautiful young woman turns murderous and crazy and all that hinted at said transformation was only a laugh such as this. At the same time, she couldn't help but worry for Erica, as they were close, closer than most of the chambermaids—with the exception of Helga, who had taken to her. "A-are you alright Erica?"

"Ooh, how perceptive of you, little Sigyn; yes, I'm going somewhere. But it is a place where no one can follow." Finally, her look was focused. "Do you know why?"

"No."

"Because if you wish to follow me, you-,"

She couldn't finish because the guard came and called her name; she gave a slow nod to the man and then turned back to Sigyn. She creased any wrinkles out of her dress, she put a stray tuff of hair behind her ear and stood up, all the while looking straight at the young woman who didn't look away even for a moment. She started walking to the double doors, which were not a metre away from where Sigyn was sitting, and Erica passed by her, she finally said: "you have to be dead."

It took Sigyn a second to register what the woman was saying; before she could react, the guard was closing the doors behind him so when she stood up flabbergasted and ran to those same doors, she could only stare at them. Dead? What was she trying to say? Is she going to die, she thought? Why? What was happening? Completely panicked, she stuck her ear to the door; none other than the king's voice could be heard but she couldn't distinguish words. She looked all around her again, this once making sure no one was around and then she did something she hadn't done in a long time: magic!

She closed her eyes and concentrated only at the sound of the King's voice; soon enough, the unintelligible noise became phrases, words and then sentences. "You are also charged with actions against this crown;" Sigyn's mouth hangs; did he just…? "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I am sorry," she barely heard Erica's voice. "And that is all."

"…very well. For betraying your king and this kingdom along with him, for committing crimes against this crown and the people of Asgard, you are charged with high treason; your punishment: death."

Sigyn opened her eyes out of mere shock, losing her focus and negating the spell; did he just condemn her to death? How could he? Wait, he was king, he could; but…could this actually be true? She never denied anything as he accused her and—oh no, she didn't hear what was happening now! She closed her eyes again, trying to concentrate but her ear caught no distinct sound to use as a conductor…so she was technically "deaf". She mentally cursed herself. How could she be so easily distracted?

That moment, the doors opened and the guard appeared; he stopped an inch before he crushed into her as she tried to get away from the entrance, but with no success. "Sigyn?" he was not amused when he asked her. She put her head down as she nodded "yes" and followed him inside. Though no one was coming in after her, the doors still closed shut behind her. She jolted at that, still lost in her thoughts. But when she saw that there was something red on the floor, just two metres away from her, she swallowed with great difficulty—her throat felt sore. When she finally admitted to herself what her brain knew the moment it saw it – that was Erica's blood – she nearly threw up.

Unbeknown to her, the king changed the expression he usually wore just for a moment; it appeared as though he was trying to remember something, after he looked at her. Failing to place her, his expression changed again.

"Are you Sigyn?"

"Y-yes my lord," she replied, finally able to swallow. Looking up, she faced the strict gaze of her king fixated upon her. She tried to smile, but it was a lost cause because not only did it look pathetic, it was also disingenuous and it showed. But she couldn't help it. Her heart was still beating so fast! She had to do something about that; she started squeezing her hand again, like she did before Helga scolded her.

"Are you looking at the blood on the floor?"

Surprise was the least of the emotions that flowed through her and she became so red, she thought she'd match the drapes. "I-i-indeed I am, sire. Forgive me if I was, err insubordinate."

"No, it is quite alright; do you know why that's there?"

He didn't sound malicious to her, simply…didactic. "Because…someone was killed on these steps." She sounded cautious.

"Someone was killed, yes; the woman who was here previously, Erica. Did you know her?"

"She was a friend, my lord…"

"I hope you do not share the same views however; she was killed by one of my soldiers for I commanded him. She was found guilty of treason. Do you know why?"

"No, my lord! And I would have never pegged her to be consorting with enemies; what did she…?" she realised she was speaking out of turn, being so flippant to her king, and she immediately hang her head so low, she heard a "crack". "She must have done something terrible then, for your lordship to pass punishment so fast."

"That is true: she fell in league with evil people because of the man she was spoken to; he slowly yet steadily corrupted her, causing her to do things she would normally reprobate. She ended up trying to smuggle important documents out of the castle. If it weren't for my most recent request to refresh my knowledge, we would have never guessed. But she was caught in the act and now killed, a week after the crime."

All these information were so impossible to her; that smart and amazing woman, Erica, did all these…? How could she be fooled-she was the one who kept telling Sigyn to be vigilant of men and their cruelty. And she fell right into that? How…ironic, she though. "Do you know why I'm telling you all this?"

"To serve as an example and refrain from ever doing anything similar?"

"Not just that; if there is anything that you may consider suspicious about the women who passed through here or even yourself, you must tell me now. This is the only chance you will ever get."

Her heart stopped; suspicious? About them, her? She knew nothing condemning about the other girls, just small quirks and teasing, but…what if her magic was considered a problem? She was egged on by the queen—she even taught her a few things and gave her books, but the king never approved it. Well, he never officially knew it she supposed because the queen said it wasn't important enough to be his concern, but now that she was gone was she obliged to tell him? Oh yes, she had to; she knew it. She bet everything she had earned in her life he'd found out and that was exactly what he was hinting at. This was a test.

She gulped. She opened her mouth, to produce sound, but it failed her at first. "I am," her voice was a little too high-pitched, so she pretended she had a cold, rather than too much fear. "I can do magic, my lord. I am self-taught for the most part but the late Queen, her majesty Frigga also helped me when I had problems learning something particular. She also encouraged me when I was just starting."

She felt like she had just signed her death sentence. She wished she could close her eyes, but she knew it would be stupid to do so; she waited the axe with eyes wide open…an axe that never came. In fact, the king looked like he was expecting something entirely different to come out of her mouth, but something else did. He was taken aback. Suddenly, she was taken aback. It would be comical if she didn't feel like she was gambling with her life.

An odd expression took over the old man's features and something akin to remembrance finally revealed itself. She could even go so far to say that he looked like he was scolding himself internally for not noticing before. "So you are versed in sorcery…by the queen no less."

He sounded odd; like that was some sort of joke to him. "Yes sire, quite so." She made an attempt to smile and though it still looked pathetic, at least this once was honest. "We, my friend Ronnell and I, were once her ladyship's guests and she was very dear to us, but we were rarely seen together, my lord; she chose to school me – the little she did – at odd times."

"Very well; then you shall not be burdened with the post of a chambermaid any longer." She was once more taken completely aback—that was abrupt! "We shall make you a healer."

She stared. She stopped breathing. She just looked at him completely immobile and unresponsive. The king started looking at her funny again. "Or do you wish to remain a-?"

"NO!" everything went into overdrive: reflexes, thoughts, wants and needs; she became beet red in the face while still maintaining her agony. "No, my lord, sire, your lordship, I believe your appointment was all too wise and-and I have no words to accurately convey how…how thankful I am to you for giving me this golden opportunity. I shall try my best to never disappoint either you or the memory of the queen—I promise I'll do anything possible to honour your trust in me. My lord. Thank you so much."

The king gave a knowing smile; ah, and she made sense again. "You will be informed in due time for your new post; you may leave now."

He dismissed her and she bowed down so deeply before she left, one would think she was trying to touch her toes with her nose. She could not believe her luck! As she pranced away from the throne room, through the way they indicated, she found a room full of all twenty three…oh no, wait, twenty two now chambermaids. She was so excited, she forgot they killed Erica—how could she? Guilt filled her the more she mulled over it: on one hand, she wanted to be happy for herself; on the other a friend of hers had just died. How should she react?

"Oh dear, here you are!" That was Helga who rushed to her; she took hold of her hands and squeezed them. "Is Erica after you-?"

The moment she heard the name, something broke inside her and she started crying. It wasn't a sobbing one nor a messy one; there were just tears flowing down her cheeks as she barely made a face. Still, the older woman was worried. "Oh good gracious, are you alright? Did something happen to you? Did they reject you?"

"It's, it's not that, I'm sorry…I'm sorry I'm crying and I can't get this across right. Erica, she was killed." The hall that was previously buzzing with small-talk came over a deafening silence. Suddenly, every pair of eyes landed on Sigyn. "She was found guilty of treason," an awestruck "aw" went through the whole room "and the King ordered her punishment immediately." A horrified "ah" was heard all over, while others were holding their chests and others covered their wide-open mouths. "That husband of hers, the one she was supposed to take put her up to it…I guess they apprehended or search for him, too."

The room was abuzz again but with something very different now: almost all of them started talking between themselves in sizes of two to four people, about how legitimate this whole thing was and how she was manipulated or whatnot. Still, the tears kept coming and she was not proud to say they weren't only caused from sadness; there was some joy in there as well. Since Helga still held on to her, she moved to the side, thankful the woman understood and went to where Sigyn led. "What is it dear, tell me."

"I will no longer be a chambermaid;" she paused, but Helga saw she wasn't done thus despite her obvious concern, she said nothing "the king decided I should be a healer."

"Oh blessed be the old ones," she burst out, dragging her to a smothering hug "finally you go somewhere you want!"

The smile that took over Helga encouraged Sigyn to wear it, too; slowly, it became that silly grin that she sported when something had gone her way phenomenally well. In the end, she returned the hug and cried true tears of joy, mixed with a little guilt, as she tried to savour this moment. "I know, I'm so happy for it! But I also feel so bad about Erica and-!"

"Be happy child; in this moment. You can be sad about your friend in ten minutes again."

She had no idea if that was right or wrong but she knew she loved this woman who held her like a mother; her own had so effortlessly given her away to this palace, that the truest, most constant form of motherly love she had ever received was from this woman. So the moment she told her to just enjoy it for this brief time, she did it with no qualms.

Of course, sooner or later the rest would notice them hugging, something she would usually avoid, but she didn't quite mind right now. Though she did want to know what will happen to the others…She let go of Helga and looked at her. "What about you? And the rest?"

"Most of us shall remain as we are; Ingrid will be moved to the kitchens, Nessa to the archives and Astrid to seamstresses. And of course you, to the healer's department."

They heard it and they immediately flocked around to give their kind, or surprised, or strictly formal congratulations. She smiled through them all and nodded and when they were given instructions for their new appointments, she left faster than the speed of light. Her destination was one and only: her room. She had very exciting news to share with her most trusted friend and roommate Ronnell. She had promised to be there that night to provide emotional support. She was a concubine and ever since she had become one, her roommate would see her only once or twice a week in their room.

But this day was different and Ronnell had promised to be there, a promise she kept, as she always did when she gave her word: she was on her old bed, lying, looking at the ceiling; she was playing with her hair without knowing she did it. It was a remnant from the times when she would hate it because of its "dull, lifeless colour" as she would put it and contemplate whether to cut it or not. Naturally, the second option never lost and she ended up having such long hair, she eventually found something to think they're special. Sigyn had convinced her that long hair is amazing when they were much younger, for she wouldn't stop gushing over the Queen's long locks of light brown beauty.

"Oh you're back!" she immediately sat on her shins and looked at her curious. "Well then…say already! What was decided?"

Always that tone, as if Sigyn was up to something…! She couldn't contain her enthusiasm though, so she jumped on the bed with Ronnell and took hold of her hands "I'm becoming a healer!"

"NO!" For the shortest of moments, time stood still for the two of them; when it came back they both started cheering and rapidly moving their clasped hands up and down at the best of their ability. "Dear Freya and the nine sons, you were actually given a promotion! I am so happy for you!"

"I know, this is amazing! I could not believe it; the king was so very strict and fearsome, talking about life and death and treason and then, just like that, he grants me my biggest, most secret wish!"

They hugged, rocking back and forth. "Tis wonderful Sigyn, now we both get to be what we always dreamt of!"

"Right? And I don't have to be jealous of you anymore for achieving it fifty years earlier!"

They laughed. "Though I have to say "secret wish"? Maybe I would accept it if there wasn't me you confided in, Helga, the queen, that guy from Vanaheim, the traveller that said you were gifted, that poor woman from Alfheim and let us not forget—!"

Sigyn nudged her with her elbow. "I understand; please stop listing people…"

Her friend laughed again, always graceful, and patted her on the back. "I am very happy for you. I really am." They smiled at each other for a long moment. "And now we have to celebrate!"

And celebrate they did for that night not one, not two, but three bottles of wine were spent because of them, along with delicious salty treats, and all out of their own pocket. At some point Helga came at their table in the kitchens, then Brigitte stopped by to congratulate, but it was mostly just the two of them drinking and merrying the night away…

Next morning though she sorely regretted it; her headache was splitting and everything around her moved much faster than her, at least for those two seconds it took her to focus. She turned to look at her roommate. Lucky dog; she didn't have to wake early, opposed to her, and present herself to the grand healers of the court! That being said, she probably shouldn't have drunk so much, considering. She rubbed her forehead in an effort to clear her mind. Wait a minute, she was going to be a healer; there were herbs that if brewed provide a most satisfying relief! She should know these and more importantly she should show that she knew these already.

She changed her standard brown dress and dared slip into something more to her liking: she chose to don a simple dress of green hues that bled into a yellow extension that could be worn as a shawl. Maybe it was too simple for her new position, but it was the best one she had, of the not too formal ones. She hastily combed through her reddish brown mess that wanted to call itself hair and parted a tuff of hair on either side. Tying each into a braid, she brought them together at the back. She again thought she was being too simple, but what else could she do? She never was too good with these—Ronnell was, but she was soundly sleeping and she did not have the heart to wake her.

She barely had the time to take a look at herself in the mirror before she had to leave if she didn't want to be late; she wished herself luck to go with the wishes of the rest and briskly walked to the chamber they told her yesterday night: the main office of the healers' department. It was a long walk from her room, taking her about fifteen minutes; it would have taken less had she ran but as she still had a headache, she wouldn't want to appear with shortness of breath.

She knocked on the closed doors. They were two and they were big. They certainly weren't as big as the throne room's but they were imposing; they bore the red colour of healing and one would think they had something very sacred behind those doors, the way they were made. She stood there, simply marvelling at the site as she waited for someone to let her in.

"Welcome Sigyn." The moment the doors parted, a thin middle-aged woman appeared behind them, greeting their new recruit. Her wild, curly auburn hair was worn back while her arms were exposed, as she donned a sleeveless red-brown dress. It was simple but too well-made; she was right not to wear the other dress. "My name is Eir and I am the head healer; I shall also be your instructor for as long as the king wishes."

They bowed to each other; Sigyn went first to show the proper respect—though it made her head spin a little. "I am honoured to make your acquaintance lady Eir; for all the time I shall be in your care, I will try to be a model student."

The woman smiled slightly but tried to keep her formal tone. "I am pleased to hear that; please follow me inside."

And when she did, she could actually feel her life changing with every step she took further or with every glance she stole at the equipment. Everything was…beautiful. There was no other word to describe it! The medical instruments, the wooden or stone cabinets that wrote what sort of herbs they contained, everything was perfect. It was all she dreamt about and more! The hours she had spent pouring over books about herbs and practices of the healing arts she knew they were more than well-deserved. She could only imagine how many more things she had to learn, judging by the numerous spaces of storage. She could not wait to be taught!

"Seeing you are showing yourself around, I can answer any questions you may have. By all means, browse to your heart's content," she added, seeing Sigyn change colours out of shame "just do not take anything without telling us."

"I shan't remove a thing if only am I allowed to look at everything."

The smile graced her lips fully this once. "You are." In that moment, when she saw the pure gratitude, surprise and eagerness in the girl's eyes, she knew why the king had appointed her, the head healer, as this girl's tutor. There was nothing better than grooming the next generation, when the next generation displayed such enthusiasm for their craft. She only hoped it would last; that would make her truly excellent.

A/N: Ta dah~! End of chapter one. Please tell me what you thought and how Sigyn seems to you either by review or message; feedback is always much appreciated and welcome.