A/N: I am re-editing this in the year of our lord 2018, to apply some minor changes that will go a long way in helping me focus and write the final part of it.

1. A tumultuous beginning

Black clouds obscured the sunlight, casting a grey shadow all over the land. The wind howled and thunder rumbled in the distance preceded by flashes of lightning, but the rain had yet to fall. Sigyn had always found thunderstorms to have a sort of refreshing quality. She had always enjoyed days like this, when the heavens raged upon the earth breathing new life into it. This time a storm greater than the one about to break out was already raging inside of her. A storm that would never show on the surface as long as she had any control over it.

A week had passed since she had been called by her mother to have it announced to her that she would be leaving her home to be given in marriage to a man she only knew by name. In her second home, Asgard, no less. She had cried and raged at having her own life taken away from her hands and manipulated to fit strangers' interests. Interests that were never even properly explained to her. She knew enough about Asgardian diplomacy to have a good guess about what those were. Getting offered up as a gift to some member of the royal family. Not even an actual family member with any claims to the throne, apparently she was only good enough for someone lesser.

'Some things we do out of choice, others out of duty. It is how life is, and pondering on it won't change anything. You have many things to take care of rather than waste your time like that.' Her mother had replied, otherwise remaining tight lipped about the affair. Sigyn had found it hard to accept, both the sudden announcement and the absurd secrecy. In the end she had given up, for the time being at least. Until perhaps a different way out presented itself.

As she waited in her empty room, looking out on everything she would be leaving behind, Sigyn decided not to dwell on her grievance. Tears only did so much good- which was to say, none. The thoughts of the plains and forests of Vanaheim were already laced with a tinge of nostalgia, even though she hadn't left them behind yet. She made a promise to herself, never to let that bittersweet nostalgia turn into painful homesickness. With that little vow, she turned away from the window, towards the bare bed where a leather traveling satchel lay. It was the only piece of baggage she would keep on her. She picked it up and walked towards the door as the first drops of rain hit the ground.

The storm had moved away from the sky Citadel, but the skies of Asgard remained overcast. The lack of sunlight gave Loki a strange sense of comfort. It reminded him, in a way, of home. The Jotun had been born in a sunless -for the most part- realm, and no matter how long he had lived under the Asgardian sun it still felt foreign on his skin at times. He strolled outside the walls of the golden city through damp fields at the edges of which the smooth landscape gave way to thick forests. The howling wind had been reduced to gentle gusts that carried the smell of wet earth. They were the only things to interrupt the otherwise still nature. At any other day he would had experienced a pleasant interlude of peace, but at the very moment an unease was eating away at him.

Loki had always found himself subject to wanderlust; the open road was the sole cure for his restlessness. This time however, the very cause of his unease was how wandering was starting to lose its appeal. And yet, staying still felt every bit as hollow as it had always felt. What is left then?

Seeing that his aimless roaming did nothing to ease his mind, he started making his way back inside the massive walls. He made no effort to walk gracefully. He dragged his feet in the mud, his mood even fouler than when he had first set out. He vaguely remembered about some obligation his brother had mentioned to him.

If only it was easier to pay attention to this stuff, he thought, unable to recall what exactly he was supposed to be attending. The God of lies figured he could easily conceal this little negligence. Just be presentable and available to any summons. It might even be somewhat of a pleasant distraction. Loki mused, the right corner of his mouth turning up a bit as the prospect slightly lifted his spirits.

At the beginning of their trip the storm had been raging in full force, the rain pounding harshly against the cart's canvas cover. The little hood over the drivers' seat hardly offered any protection, yet the two men sitting at the front had assured their passengers -Sigyn and her handmaiden Erika- it would be no problem for them. Approaching Asgard they left the rain behind, although the dark clouds still hung overhead and the occasional roll of thunder reached their ears from afar. Sigyn had flapped the canvas on her side of the carriage open as soon as the rain had stopped. She stared out, not really seeing the plains that got replaced by looming woods, lost as she was in thought. Erika sighed and gazed at the landscape. Enchanted by the sight, she did not really mind the silence. Leaving Vanaheim was wondrous enough for the younger woman.

Sigyn's lack of expression did not have its foundation in serenity, but in fear. It was not Asgard itself that scared her. She had visited it on occasion, seeing as her own father was the ruler of the realm. While they did not share a close family relationship, she had always been welcome in Odin's hall. Even though she had been but a child when she had last accepted that hospitality and her memories of it were less than clear, she still did not see the realm as something foreign. She let out a weary sigh. What scared her was what awaited her there.

Loki had never been physically present during her stays in her father's realm. Not as far as she could recall. He had sometimes been spoken of, and she knew that he was her father's younger brother -only in title, a Jotun in blood. She had never really cared to learn more. When she had learned that she would be getting married to him out of all people she had tried to change that. In the end, none of the answers to her questions had been enough. An almost conspiratory tightening of lips had seemed to occur around Loki's name in even the most gossipy circles. That only helped to worsen her fear.

A known evil, she thought, is better than the unknown one. And why hide a truth that is not ugly? When the massive walls of Asgard came into view, the young goddess focused on steeling her nerves, making sure her carefully built mask of manners and formality would not fail her when she needed it the most.

Loki had made a point of avoiding everyone and everything as he had walked through the city. He'd slipped into Odin's hall from a small side entrance and quietly made his way to his own quarters. Halfway there he had decided that getting intoxicated to a point beyond consciousness would be the best distraction there was for his taut nerves. But he knew right away that it was a bad idea. There is a short number of bad ideas one should let manifest within a period of time. He was well past that number at the moment, which did not bode well for his physical integrity.

In the privacy of his quarters, Loki discarded his muddied boots and his damp clothes. He proceeded to submerge himself in scalding water; so hot it would probably kill a human, and cause a lot of pain and discomfort to an Aesir. It felt just right. He stayed in the water until it went cold -for his peculiar temperature standards that is- by which time the tips of his fingers had turned wrinkly from the water. He had lost track of time by the time he got out of the tub and dried himself up with a towel that he then fastened around his waist; just in case someone decided to barge into his room, an occurrence not exactly rare, to his discontent.

He flipped through his clothing options, unsure of just what he was getting dressed up for. Eventually, he picked out a green tunic, a brown leather vest embroidered with gold thread, and close fitting pants of the same material. He threw everything on his bed and followed suit, only to push himself back up a few seconds later. Loki had always treated social obligations with mild disinterest, or downright boredom, and yet this time a mysterious anxiety was nagging at him. Call it a sign of fate, a gut feeling, or perhaps a false alarm. Fact was, the God of chaos needed a drink. Fortunately, his tendency for stashing necessities, such as wine, meant he would not really have to go far to get it. A minute later he was back on the bed, leaning against the headboard wine-cup in hand and much better equipped to deal with life than before.

The distance between Asgard's gates and Odin's great hall had been covered swiftly and in silence. It had been unusually quiet in the street, probably due to the storm that had just passed. Storms were a rare occurrence in Asgard, even more so natural storms that had not been caused by Thor.

Sigyn had asked for her old rooms and by the time she arrived her things had already been moved there. She and Erika took their light hand luggage and the goddess guided them both inside after thanking the two coach drivers while they were tending to the horses. The hall too was a lot less busy than usual. It gave it a less formal and more homely air that Sigyn really appreciated. Normally guests would get some sort of reception, but after a personal request to Odin himself she was left to her own device until she would be ready to present herself. The mere thought of such formalities was enough to dishearten her further.

The chamber had been just like she'd remembered; with the difference that all those years ago everything had seemed bigger. It was still big and cosy enough, the huge canopy bed dominating a lot of the space. She had loved that soft bed with the thick veiling on each side. It had always given her a sense of seclusion and safety. At the moment however, she could not shake off the feeling of being exposed. She ignored it, and set to changing into more court appropriate clothes, not wanting to abuse her given liberty. She told Erika, who would be staying with the goddess, that she was free to go look around. The girl agreed in delight. After she had departed, Sigyn hastily slipped into a plain long blue dress, fitted in an Asgardian cut.

'That will have to do.' She said to no one in particular, and then left the security of her room behind.

The intoxicating effect of wine was amply appreciated by Loki. One cup followed the other as he lay in waiting, even though a little voice in his head – the one called common sense- told him that showing up drunk would be even worse than not showing up at all. He promptly ignored it, as per usual. So, in every passing moment of wait the world became a happier place for Loki. A knock on his door startled him, and as he jolted up he realised the world was also becoming a less steady place.

'Master Loki?' A small voice came from the other side of the wooden door, but as he did not grace it with a reply the door remained shut.

Loki got up slowly. His head swam but he could stand. He tried walking towards the door, achieving more stability with every step. He pulled the door open a bit too suddenly and found himself faced with a tiny raised fist. The servant had paused mid-knock and pulled back. She lowered her eyes and let out an awkward cough before speaking up.

'The Allfather requests your presence in the throne room.' She said.

Loki dismissed her with a nod, closed the door and walked back into his room. In an effort to clear his head he splashed cold water on his face before pulling his clothes on. Trying to achieve as much sobriety as he could, he took the longest route possible to Odin's throne room. That included a detour through the gardens. The long walk and the fresh air both helped, so by the time he reached his destination he had complete control over his movements again, even if his head remained fuzzy.

He approached the double doors, pushed one of them open and walked inside, proceeding to casually stride towards the only other people occupying the space at the moment.

Shortly after exchanging greetings and brief news Odin had suggested that Sigyn should officially meet her intended.

'What, right now? At this hour? Would he not be really busy doing…things people usually do at this hour around here? We could always leave it for- '

'Now is as good a time as any.' He had cut her off, leaving no space for refusal. He had then assured her that she would be excused quickly. Despite that, she had felt her stomach turn into a knot the second the young servant who was sent to summon Loki had departed.

The creaking of the wooden doors alerted them to the Trickster's presence. When she took in the form of the man who had just entered, a wave of surprise hit the young goddess. Even though she knew that the Aesir just like the Vanir did not really have to abandon their youthfulness regardless of their years, by thinking of her father's generation she could not help but picture older looking people. Perhaps it was because her most prominent example was Odin himself.

Loki, Sigyn thought, resembled the younger brother of Thor more than that of Odin. Not only he isn't a scrawny old man, he is actually -she resented the involuntary thought- really attractive. Of course among the gods, good looks were not exactly rare. The average Asgardian man was strongly built, with clean-cut masculine and well-proportioned characteristics. What made Loki stand out was how he differed from the pattern. As tall as any other Asgardian but with half the bulk, he moved with an effortless grace that hinted at the kind of femininity the men of Asgard would not dare be associated with. Despite that his features had a sharpness to them reminiscent of neither man or woman, but something wild and primal. He radiated allure and danger, and Sigyn felt one meaningless worry die down, but ten new coming to take its place. And did he look somewhat off in another way as well?

Finding herself mesmerized even for a few seconds only made the flame of resentment in her chest flare up more angrily. Sigyn blamed the slip up on her obvious surprise and to some extent relief. Being forced to marry a handsome young man rather than an ugly old man was admittedly the lesser of two evils. The focus on 'evils', as looks did not speak for character, and she could only hope that her father would not make her spend her life with a terribly crude or abusive man.

Then again, he has done worse to ensure his interests. The thought made her shudder, and she turned her scrutiny on the Jotun who had just stopped a few feet away. He gave her a quick glance, but turned his attention towards his brother first.

'You sent for me.' Loki started, his voice as ambiguous as his looks, soft but with a raspy quality to it. 'Would you care to introduce me to our lovely guest?'

The lovely guest could introduce herself if you actually addressed her. Sigyn thought in irritation. He was starting to rub her the wrong way already.

Odin turned to her first. 'My sworn brother and advisor Loki Laufeyjarson of Jotunheim.' He announced, inclining his head towards Loki.

Sigyn turned to Loki, wondering if she had to show any acknowledgement. He sure didn't. Before she could say anything, the Allfather spoke again.

'This,' -Loki turned to look at her as Odin spoke- 'is my daughter, lady Sigyn of Vanaheim. The woman that, as you know, you will be marrying.'

In an instant Loki's confident, playful look transformed into the very image of horror-struck shock. Eyes about to drop out of their sockets and mouth hanging limply open, Loki's expression looked like the comedic attempt of a predator to imitate trapped prey.

At first Sigyn was genuinely confused, but as realization dawned on her, her own shock could easily match the flustered god's, who was staring from her to his brother and back. He did not know… The phrase echoed in her head like a mantra and she barely contained a hysteric urge to laugh. She eyed the Jotun with a bemused expression.

Loki finally snapped his mouth shut and clenched his jaw, regarding Sigyn like one would a festering wound. His expression brought the knot back to Sigyn's stomach. He turned to Odin –who seemed unfazed by the whole thing- and muttered a strangled 'I will what?'

It came out a lot less aggressive and indignant than he had intended. His air of elegance was gone, and he seemed unfocused, although that could easily be the result of the high concentration of alcohol in his blood. He seemed to be grasping for words for a few moments, finally he said in a thick voice:

'Why, no one seems to have remembered to inform me of that.' He paused.

'Too bad. Had I known, I would had made sure to be more available.' He concluded, and with the tiniest of head-bows towards the ruler of Asgard, and no acknowledgement of the Vanir's presence whatsoever, he turned around and rigidly hurried away.

For the first time Odin's neutral mask slipped, revealing annoyance underneath. He turned towards his daughter, who was at the moment lost in a trance of silent befuddlement.

'Maybe we should had broken it to him a bit more gently?' She suggested. If Odin's stare was anything to go by, it was not a good time for sarcasm.

'Could I be excused now?' She managed awkwardly, and Odin nodded. She turned after a stiff bow and barely resisted the urge to flee the room, hurriedly walking out and then almost running all the way to her quarters.

In the safety of her chamber, Sigyn felt herself breathe properly again. She flopped onto the bed with a long sigh, and there she stayed unmoving. When Erika returned to their quarters shortly after, she had already heard the news. The walls had ears, and of course they made sure to always inform the servants first, so she was not surprised to find her mistress in the way she did. She could not know exactly how much of what she had heard was true, regarding both recent events and Loki in general, but she still felt bad for her.

The goddess did not even notice her entrance, so absorbed she was in thought, her brow slightly furrowed.

Quite a piece of work that Loki seems to be, Erika mused, oh you poor thing... She walked to the bed, making sure to alert the goddess to her presence, and not to frighten her. When she sat down and placed her hand on Sigyn's upper arm the older woman did not flinch, she just turned her face towards her. Just when Erika was about to say something comforting, Sigyn spoke in a completely calm voice.

'So there is actually one person that is more terrified than me because of this affair.' She let out a small giggle that evolved into breathless laughter. It surprised Erika who had expected to find her in a state of distress.

'You are not… upset?' Erika asked, eyebrows raised comically.

All this time I pictured myself as the victim of this. The one that was getting traded away to a man who had consented to it. But it would seem I have given the most consent out the two of us.'

She left the last sentence hanging and turned to her thoughts again.

'So it is true then? He had no idea and stormed out on you? How can you even not know something like this?' Erika let curiosity get the best of her and regretted it instantly. However, Sigyn did not seem offended or displeased, she smiled a little at the girl and nodded.

'He did, and I don't know if I am glad about the fact that we are both in the same position, or scared to have this man resent me the way I had resented him up until now.'

'You no longer resent him?'

Sigyn shook her head absently. 'I resent what is going on, but it has become more than clear he is the least to blame for it. I think I almost... feel bad for him,' she admitted.

'May I ask…?' Erika started with an almost guilty expression that tugged at Sigyn's curiosity and made her nod urgently. 'Is he as good looking as I have heard?'

Erika was pretty sure she could feel her face heating up. Sigyn found the display endearing. She grinned playfully at her handmaiden and responded with a bit of exaggerated drama. 'Oh, did they even do him justice?.'

She paused and considered something, her expression turning mischievous. 'Although maybe it also was the cat-that-just-got-doused-with-cold-water look flattering him.'

Both women laughed until they were out of breath. Sigyn felt her muscles relax, her pent up nervousness steadily ebbing away. With a lighter heart she eased down and let sleep carry her away.

Loki had made no attempts at a hasty exit, rage being the only thing that had made his footsteps petulantly hurried. Part of him had been intent on running away, but his more chaos-loving side had been spoiling for a fight, hoping to be stopped, yelled at. Any chance for him to come down on them -them being anyone- like a typhoon of flaming anger. And maybe some actual flames too. Nothing of the sort would happen though, much to his discontent and best interest at the same time. By the time he had reached the hall's front entrance, the inside of his head had become a dizzying cacophony of thoughts. He had absently stepped out instead of making his intended dramatic exit.

I've been set up, and I proceeded to make a damn fool out of myself! Oh by Vallhala who does Odin think he is..."as you know" he says! As I know my ass. That lying- Suddenly his torrent of thoughts froze still, as one little notion sent a chill down his spine. The thought of how Odin had started his little speech earlier this day. The one that Loki had proceeded to ignore. In fact, he had immersed himself in his own thoughts and shut out the world from the very start, exactly because of Odin saying: 'You know, all this messing around with married people is going to land you in a lot of trouble. '

As I of course know. In a moment of clarity the incomprehensible recent events seemed to make a lot more sense. At the same time his wife-to-be was immersed in the world of dreams and free of all worries, Loki froze in his tracks in the middle of the street realizing with a heavy heart that he himself had set the trap he was currently in.

A sudden drizzle-turned-downpour, like a bad-timed aftershock of the earlier storm, was the thing that snapped the disgruntled Jotun out of his trance and urged him to move on towards his intended destination. He rushed his step, soon breaking into a trek as he navigated in the dimly lit residential area. He finally stopped in front of a medium sized house, identical to the ones around it-but for the fact that it was the only one without an awning. Figures. He pounded on the door, getting drenched every second no one was answering. The door creaked open to reveal absolute darkness, and a barely discernible figure outlined in the doorway.

'Loki?' The surprise in the man's voice was enough to get the message "The fuck are you doing out in this cataclysm?" across.

'May I come in before I drown out here?' He asked impatiently, and the figure of the man disappeared from the doorway.

Loki stepped in, making a small flame hover over his palm bright enough to navigate himself inside. The door shut behind him but he did not turn around. He made his way towards the cold fireplace and got a fire going.

Meanwhile, the owner of the house was deftly moving about in absolute darkness and then dim firelight without even regarding his surroundings. Being blind, he had no use of the light anyway. He looked –and was- younger than Loki, a mop of black hair hiding a face even more youthful than his. He was pale, lean, and tall, clad in dramatically dark clothing. In the dim light the combination looked ghastly.

Hod, Balder's twin brother, was the exact opposite of his sibling. Many called him the shadow to his brother's light. Maybe that was what had originally drawn Loki to him. In any case, young Hod had been the first person he had thought of going to, like in many personal crises before.

'So, what happened?' Hod asked as he placed a full wine-glass in Loki's hands, before filling one of his own.

'Why does something need to have happened?' Loki inquired, leaning against the wall by the fireplace and taking a small sip. He managed to sound completely unfazed, and silently congratulated himself for that.

Hod eased himself down on a chair and sighed. 'When does it not? Even if we assumed you were the kind of person to pay pleasant little visits, and more so in that downpour, you are still taut as a bowstring, one does not need eyes to see that. I don't know what it is that has happened, but something has.' He concluded, sounding pleased with his deduction.

Loki let out a small humourless laugh. 'Let me take it from the start then.'

And so, Loki laid out the events the way they had happened, quickly muttering the parts about his own idiotic behaviour and reciting the parts where he got wronged with exaggerated drama. In other words, being typical Loki. Hod listened quietly without making any comments. He was a good listener like that, although they both knew that once the older god was finished talking he would offer a completely honest opinion. Loki was not fond of that honest criticism, but neither was he particularly capable of it. That was why he so often sought out the young Aesir. That and his confidentiality, derived from a total lack of interest in gossip.

When Loki's narrative was concluded Hod paused in thought for a few drawn out moments. Loki rolled his eyes although he knew the gesture had no impact whatsoever.

'Sure, father's way of going about it was sneaky, and telling you today would had been too late even if you had actually listened, but you are not exactly what one'd call innocent and gullible to fall for it.' Hod stated.

Oh joy, he is also against me, Loki mused letting his head drop in his palms.

'So while I see why you should be somewhat annoyed,' Hod continued sharply 'I can't find it in me to feel bad for you. Because if you are panicking like that, I can only imagine what my poor sister must feel like.'

'She could had said no if she had a problem, I don't think they actually forced her!' Loki protested.

'So could you, right there, right then. Why didn't you?'

The question rendered Loki speechless for a moment, enough to realize how he truly did not care all that much about a stranger's feelings, especially the one stranger that was being forced on him. He was about to voice just that, but was cut off.

'I am not going for an appeal to your sensitivity,' the blind god said with a hint of anger 'but since you are in the same position, would it hurt you so much to make an ally rather than another enemy?'

There was finality in his tone, he had nothing more to say on the matter, and he would not attempt to do so.

Loki sighed. 'I will make amends,' he said in a resigned tone, 'but tomorrow.' With that he got up and left Hod's house, weariness weighing down on him.

Sigyn found herself awake before sunrise because of her early retirement the previous night. She felt rested and refreshed. She noticed that her handmaiden had actually fallen asleep on her bed. Much like herself the girl was dressed in day clothes, although Erika had not even removed her shoes. She rose quietly as to not disrupt the other's sleep and walked over to her window seat. She watched the sun go up, thankful that her quarters had a view of the sunrise.

She tried to think of events in a detached way, which helped her stay positive; bask in the newness of things rather than dwell in the fear of the unknown. With that thought in mind, she gently shook her servant awake and they both departed from the quarters.

Before anything else, she really was in need of a bath to get the grime of the travel off. She had fallen asleep last night without managing to ask about it, and so at the moment she was looking for anyone that could give her some directions. Her search, however, brought her instead to the currently empty women's bathhouse. She smiled at Erika. 'It seems we won't need any help after all.'

The latter was not sure if it was right to use it without any assistance of the Hall's servants. Her mistress seemed to harbour a disregard for formalities and unimportant -as she categorized them- rules, as well as the tendency to try and do everything by herself. Erika sighed and settled for helping her prepare a bath

They chatted absent-mindedly as Sigyn soaked in the warm water. Erika was in the middle of recounting her unexciting previous evening when the door of the bathhouse creaked open. A young girl walked in, tall and willowy but clearly not yet a woman. She was garbed in plain servant's clothes and she had a folded towel and a change of clothes tucked under her arm.

She did not seem startled to see the two women there, although after some silent observation she exclaimed 'I do not know you two. Are you lady Sigyn's handmaidens?'

Erika's eyes widened as she realized it must be common for servants to use the baths early in the morning before the day begun, but not so much for the ladies of Asgard.

She was about to correct the misunderstanding when she felt a wet palm squeeze her elbow. She turned to see Sigyn give her a pointed look before speaking up.

'Yes we are.' she directed to the girl. 'Our lady wanted some time alone,' she added, 'so she sent us off.'

Erika did the best to keep bewilderment from her face.

The girl gave them a knowing smile and got closer.

'I am Roskva,' she introduced herself, 'I am also making the best out of my time off.'

'Nice to meet you,' Sigyn said smiling. 'I am Signe and this is Erika.'

Erika inclined her head and opted for small talk, still worried about whatever game the goddess was playing. 'Do you work here?' She asked.

'Oh, no,' the girl replied, 'I simply come over to help or spend my free time when my master is away or does not need me, which is quite often actually. Can't stand sitting around in an empty house.'

She left the bundle of clothes and her towel next to the large bath close to where Erika was sitting and turned around to remove her clothes.

'And who would your master be?' It was Sigyn's turn to direct a question to the young servant, while politely facing away.

Roskva lowered herself into the water with a pleased sigh. 'My master,' she said in a dramatic voice, 'is the teller of stories and weaver of lies. He is the one they call Silvertongue and Trickster. He is chaos incarnate…' She grinned at the two women and laughed. 'And I believe he is supposed to marry your mistress.'

'Loki?' Erika exclaimed in surprise.

Sigyn's triumphant expression spoke volumes for itself however; it was now obvious her little subterfuge game had struck gold. Those are some interesting epithets. She mused.

'May I ask,' Erika started, now in sync with Sigyn's plan, 'what your master is like? Out of curiosity… We thought it would not be appropriate to ask our lady.'

'And she does not seem to know anyway.' Sigyn added.

Roskva smiled at the two almost apologetically. 'One cannot possibly put him in a frame. He shows a different face to everyone, but for him to show his true colours, it takes time and patience. Or luck.' Her expression did not show scorn, but rather endearment.

'But you should tell your lady this, she should not listen to what people have to say about him, which really is quite a lot and not entirely untrue.' She paused thoughtfully for a moment. 'But they just don't know any better.'

From all the rumours she had heard, Loki had not struck Erika as one who would be particularly kind to anyone, especially servants. And yet this girl's disposition told a different story. She had spoken the least scornfully of him out of all the people Erika had talked to, and she was actually the one closest to him.

'Maybe it is not my place to say so,' Sigyn began with the appropriate hesitation, 'but it does not seem easy to know how to treat your master.'

Roskva laughed out at that. 'That would be an understatement.' She said. 'But he has stories to tell and things to say; he can be pleasant company, and he is hard but not impossible to figure out. If anything, it may make it all the more fun, don't you think?'

Sigyn nodded politely and proceeded to leave the water. Roskva turned away out of courtesy, as Sigyn dried herself up and slid into the dress she had brought with her. When Roskva turned towards her again her expression transformed from neutral, to curious, to bewildered. The woman she had taken for a servant was dressed in court garb, and Roskva was sharp enough to understand what had happened. Sigyn felt a mix of guilt and the mischievous satisfaction playing a trick induces.

She saw that the young servant was blushing and lost for words, so she said: 'I am sorry for deceiving you, Roskva.'

The latter looked up from the point in the ground she had fixed her eyes on, still slightly flustered.

'You really should not feel bad about it.' Erika supplied, and if there was an edge to her words directed to a certain goddess, she would never admit it, as it would not be her place.

Sigyn nodded in agreement, as she was starting to feel really bad about what she'd just done.

Roskva sighed and gave the goddess an uncertain smile. 'Birds of a feather, I guess.' She said and then she turned her attention to her bath again.

They turned to leave, but Sigyn paused right before the door. 'Will you tell him about this?'

'I doubt he will ask,' Came Roskva's reply and the two left the room.