Happy Halloween!

It has been a week. A week since the celebration in the palace. A week since she had discovered her mother's relationship with the queen. A week since she saw the two princes in person. A week since she danced with Theoric.

A week seemed like a year.

It had gotten fairly cooler out since the day she had shared a dance and nearly a kiss with the Crimson Hawk. Breezes were more frequent, the temperature had dropped some, and the house's hearth constantly had a flame within it. Her job because of this; to collect more firewood and as much as she could, for soon it would begin to snow and that led to damp logs.

So she went out with her axe, gloves on with a cloak to cover herself, but the cloak was full of holes. It did not do much to protect her from the cold. In any case, she set the logs atop the stump, positioned herself and brought the axe down in one great thrust, splitting the log, but not in a half. It usually took her three or four swings to get the log completely split. So she repositioned herself, brought the axe down to the log and witnessed splinters fly as one half of the wood fell onto either side of the stump. She setup another log, and repeated the process.

She had managed to cut three logs in the time she was outside, sweating some as she did so when one of her sisters came out to speak to her, her own cloak with holes around her shoulders. Lofn walked straight towards Sigyn, something within her gloved hands.

"Come to help?" Sigyn questioned with a pant as she swung her axe, splitting another log.

"You have your duties and I have mine," Lofn said. "Mother sent me out here to tell you to rush in your task so you can get washed up."

Sigyn paid her sister half a mind as she positioned another piece of wood on the stump, preparing to chop it.

"Oh? Why is that?" she questioned as she hacked away.

"We have a guest coming," Lofn replied. "The All Mother."

Another swing and the log was chopped in two, Sigyn taking a break to focus on her sister and catch her breath. Splitting logs was a lot harder than it looked.

"Why?" she asked, to which her sister shrugged.

"No idea. Anyway, she will be here by this afternoon. Oh," she held out the letter in her hands, "and this came in the mail for you."

Sigyn pondered the importance and reason of the envelope that she now held, curious as to who sent it and what it contained. But there was no name on it besides her own and no mark on it aside from the symbol of Asgard on the wax seal.

"Who sent it?" she questioned Lofn, who shook her head.

"No idea. Mother says come in in about an hour to get cleaned up." With that, Lofn walked away, heading back inside.

In her privacy, with nothing but her axe and logs, Sigyn broke the seal of the envelope and removed the letter that was inside it. She unfolded it, struggling to do so because of the gloves, but prevailed in her task and looked to a bunch of scribbles on the piece of paper. She couldn't decipher it. She couldn't understand any of it, but she was able to read the name at the top of the page- her own- and the one at the bottom; Theoric.

What did he say?

She had no idea. She couldn't read it. She could have someone else read it to her. Her mother, perhaps?

No.

Sigyn decided against it. She didn't want her mother getting involved in her love life, if she could even call it that. Not yet, at least. None of her sisters could read, and she wouldn't want them involved anyway. Well, if she couldn't translate it ... who would?

All right, Sigyn. Focus.

She rubbed her templs with her fingers tenderly, attempting to relax her mind and settle on the task at hand. She had to surround her thoughts around the one thing she had to do; on the spell. It wasn't going to be easy, but if engaged enough, she knew she could do it.

Remember your training, she tells herself as she shuts her eyes tight and recalls the sound of Loki's voice in her head when he first began to teach her magic.

"Don't think," he would say. "Magic is not mental. It is physical. Spiritual. You don't think it. You feel it. All you have to do is want something. Want something really really badly ... and then just allow yourself to have it! That's magic, Sig. That's how you make magic."

Make magic, Sigyn. Strong, solid focus on what you want. You want to be there. With him. You want to be in his cell. You want to be with Loki.

She felt the feeling in her fingertips, her magic pricking at her skin, fizzing like she had too many drinks and she was just beginning to feel the affects.

Loki, she thinks to herself. You want to be with Loki. You want to be in his cell. You will be in his cell. You are in his cell. In his cell. In his cell.

"I see you made it into my cell," Loki's voice interrupted her concentration.

She peeked opened her eyes and found herself standing in a large glass containment that had been destroyed. Markings on the walls and all, furniture flipped over. It was just as she remembered it to be and Loki exactly as she left him.

"Welcome," he jokingly greeted as he stood before her.

"Loki," she breathed and rushed into him, embracing him tightly having missed the feeling of his flesh.

To her own surprise, he hugged her back, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face into her shoulder. They didn't speak or move. They just stood and held each other. Their first form of affectionate human contact in such a long while; they had nearly forgotten what it felt like.

"Oh, Sig," Loki broke the silence softly. "You have no idea how good it feels just to hold you."

She smiled into the crick of his neck, he being so much taller than her.

"That has to be one of the nicest things you ever said to me," she muttered into him.

She felt him exhale before pulling away, still having a hold on her waist and her arms still wrapped around his neck. His blue eyes matched with hers, connecting tightly as both shared in a smile.

"You did the spell perfectly. Not even Mother went this far. She merely sent an illusion of herself. How did you manage to get your entire self in here?" he questioned.

Oh no.

Her smile faltered and her blue eyes opened wide.

"I only meant to send an illusion," she confessed. "I didn't mean to send my entire body. I was trying to do the same spell that she performed."

Loki chuckled.

"Well, you took it to the next level. How did you do it?"

With his hair all disheveled a few strands of it fell into his face, nearly covering his eyes. Loki was never one to hide behind his own features, and he wasn't about to start doing it now. So she brushed back the befallen strands with a gentle finger as she explained to him what had happened.

"I just told myself how badly I wanted to see you ..." she began, getting lost in his face. He really was quite beautiful. "... And I guess I wanted it more than I realized."

He smiled sincerely, her hand lingering on his face, her palm against his cheek. He leaned into her touch, having missed affection for the longest time.

"Thank goodness for that," he whispered, gazing into her loving, warm blue eyes.

She hauled in the logs she had chopped and took a quick bath before changing from her rag of a dress into something more suitable for the queen's visit. She went with a slim, light blue gown that had slits on the side of the abdomen, showing off her perfect figure and just how slim she was. It was cut low, showing her cleavage and providing support with its holster straps. She let her blonde hair fly free, just combing it some in the mirror.

Once she finished her work on her appearance, she looked over to the letter that rested on her bed. The one Theoric had signed. She unfolded it, taking a seat on her bed and attempted to read it again, but it came to no avail. The runes meant nothing to her. Only few words did she understand; think, Sigyn, tavern, All Father, Crimson Hawk. That was about it. She huffed at her own failures, desiring to know what he wrote. She had to find someone to translate it, to read it to her, but she had no idea who to ask.

Var busted into the room, startling her sister who quickly slipped the letter under her pillow.

"The All Mother is here!" her little sister expressed in an excited whisper. "And she brought the prince with her, too."

Sigyn inwardly frowned.

Ugh. Prince Thor, too?

She kept her disappointment a secret, knowing her little sister would rat her out in a heartbeat and she meant no disrespect to the royal family, especially not the queen. So she just nodded.

"All right, Var. I will be down in a moment," she informed the youngest of sisters, sending her on her way as she quickly fluffed up her hair and took one last glimpse at the letter, fearing she would never understand what it meant.

She wandered down the stairs, already hearing the voices of her mother and the queen, conversing in high spirits, introducing each sister.

She could hear the sound of her sisters curtsying to their queen and her son, and she knew very well that she would be forced to do the same.

"He insisted on coming," the All Mother stated as Sigyn began making her way down the steps. "He is just so involved with the people. He enjoys visiting the city with me whenever it is I venture out of the palace."

"Quite understandable," Freya said in response to Frigga's claims. "A wonderful thing to do, as well. Thank you for joining us, my Queen and my Prince, and I do hope you find the home to your liking."

When she made it to the last step, her breath hitched in her throat, witnessing the scene that was playing out before her; just as shocked as the rest of her sisters. Maybe even more so.

The All Mother was there, of course, as was the prince ... something else caught Sigyn off guard.

"Ah," Freya illuminated. "There she is. This is my middle daughter, Sigyn. Sigyn, of course you know of the All Mother, Frigga."

Sigyn did and knew to curtsy before her queen.

"Your Majesty," she spoke as she did the kind gesture of politeness.

"And the heir of Asgard," Freya continued, "Prince Loki."

Sigyn was about to curtsy before him as well, but she was stopped before she could do so. Before she could grab the edges of her dress to lift it as she bent her knees, Loki had grabbed one of her hands in his, his thumb running over her frail fingers as softly as a feather. He lowered his face, getting close to her skin.

"A pleasure to meet you ..." he brushed his lips over her knuckles, green eyes locked on her blue ones as he did so, taking longer to complete the action than necessary. "... Sigyn."

"Your hand is bleeding," she noticed, having felt the warm liquid on her skin when he touched her.

Both her and Loki looked to his wound, noticing his palm was leaking.

"Probably isn't the only thing," he informed her, but she was focused on the cut that was noticeable to her naked eye.

She rushed him over to the bed, setting him down, not even noticing that his foot was bleeding as well. She didn't see it. She was too concerned with his palm.

"What have you done to yourself, Loki?" she asked as she ripped a piece of cloth off from his messed up bed sheets. She turned back to him, sitting beside him and looking at his face. She grieved inwardly for his fallen posture. "What has the worlds done to you?" He slowly blinked as a response.

She took his wounded palm in her hand, licking the bed sheet scrap and pressing down on his bleeding wound. He didn't even flinch.

"It doesn't look too deep," she informed him as she continued to dab the cut. "It won't need binding, but I'll stitch it up for you, just in case."

"No, Sig." He shook his head, his black hair covering his face. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't tell me what to do," she countered and removed one of the pins from her hair and tearing up the bed sheets more to get a strand of thread from the fabric. It wasn't what she would use if she was in the healing chambers, but it was as good as she was going to get in here. She tied the thread around her hair pin, a sharp needle to keep her locks in place. She opened up Loki's hand even more and stabbed him with the pin, dragging the thread over his wound. And yet, he did not move when she did so. He just watched her work.

She continued to stitch him up like a worn doll that she tended to when it received another hole and needed patch work. He watched her nimble fingers delicately sew him back together, closing up his skin.

"Why do you do this?" he questioned as she worked.

"Do what?" she asked, eyes focused on the task at hand.

"This," Loki elaborated. "All of this. Coming to visit me. Repairing me. Why do you do this? Why do you care so much about me?" He blinked his eyes back up to hers, but unable to capture her colors, for she was still facing downward, her attention glued to his hand. "Sigyn," he said, resulting in her ceasing in her actions and slowly bringing her eyes to his. "Why do you care about me? What makes you think you owe me this kindness? What makes you think I deserve it?"

She took a moment to breathe, her face expressionless, and even Loki found himself perplexed by her reaction to his question. Why did she care so much? Not even she seemed to know, but then it came to her.

She flicked her eyes back to his palm, tying off the thread as she gave her reply.

"Because," she lead with, and then stopped.

"Because what?" Loki pressed.

She sighed and looked directly into his eyes.

"Because you're my husband. And batshit crazy or not ..." she shook her head, giving in to what she really wanted to say- the truth. "... I love you."

She wasn't sure if she acted appropriately when Loki took the action of kissing her hand. She kind of didn't say or do anything. She just stood there in a daze before her mother told her to prepare tea for their guests and for her sisters to make them feel as at home as possible. In all honesty, however, the All Mother mostly came to converse with Freya, and the sisters were sent away for most of the time. All of them except Sigyn, of course. She was the only one besides the women who knew of their long history; Frigga and Freya. She was asked to serve the three of them, and she knew better than to deny the service.

So when the queen and her son took a seat before the hearth that was aflame, sipping from the fanciest teacups Freya had in her possession, Sigyn lingered close by in case they required anything else.

"I hate to arrive on such short notice," Frigga began. "I just needed to escape palace life for awhile. My husband has been quite on edge as of late. He is constantly putting off the Odin's Sleep for whatever reason he has. The threat of the frost giants is frightening many of our citizens. He thinks that just because he is the All Father he can handle and maintain nine different worlds. He fails to realize that he is just one man."

The queen truly sounded distressed, worried even. Sigyn wished there was something she could do to ease her All Mother's pain, but she felt powerless. She held no statues in the royal way of life. She was a simple citizen, just going about her business as part of the realm. She could not pass any law or sketch up any bill. She could just stand in the background, cross her fingers, and hope that all that needed to get done would be done.

"You know you are more than welcomed here whenever you like, my Queen. Your son included, which ever one it may be," Freya said before taking another sip.

Loki sat beside his mother, the light of the fire just kissing his face, casting shadows of his contours. His black hair was as neat as ever and he was dressed in his usual green and gold colors. He certainly looked like a prince and had the posture of one.

The chit-chat went on for a few more moments. Sigyn barely paid any mind to them, rather just focused on her work in the kitchen, washing the cups the guests had used for tea and all. She was growing border and border by the moment.

"Really?" she heard Frigga exclaim from the other room. "You don't have to."

"Oh, I insist," Freya said. "You must try it. It is the best! Better than any Asgardian brand, I am sure. You know Vanir are known for their wine. You lived there, too, and I am sure you miss the taste."

"Yes, I do. But dear Freya, you must not-"

"Oh, don't start now. You must have a bottle. Sigyn!"

That was her cue. She dried her hands quickly and proudly walked into the other room, showing off her majestic figure in her little blue dress.

"Aye, Mother?" She was sure to speak clearly and properly, being polite and obedient before their royal guests.

"Dear Sigyn," Freya began, "please run down to the wine cellar and grab one of the older bottles. A red wine from Vanaheim, if you'd be so kind."

Sigyn dipped her head with manners.

"Aye, Mother. Right away," she agreed.

"Do bundle up, dear," the All Mother called. "It is a bit cool out."

"Aye, All Mother," Sigyn said with another bow of her head, grabbing her hole infested cloak and taking leave out the back door.

The wine cellar was located a few yards behind the house itself; a small hatch and down a few steps, and then you would find yourself surrounded by wracks and wracks of wine all from Vanaheim. A few bottles her mother managed to sneak over when she first came to Asgard shortly after the Aesir-Vanir War, when peace was made between the two realms.

She carried a candle in one hand and held her cloak shut with the other, gently lowering the door to the wine cellar as she walked down the stairs, inspecting the place to find a suitable bottle for the queen. All of them were dusty and caked with cobwebs, indicating just how long it has been since her mother had even been down there.

It was still frigid in the cellar due to the lack of heat and the cold month that had come rolling in. She pulled her cloak on tighter and held the candle close to each bottle to look at the label. She knew brands, companies, able to read the name of them and know which was which. That was basic knowledge that her mother taught her growing up. It wasn't the first time she has been in the cellar; her mother haven taken her down there when she was younger to teach her the names and labels, but it was the first time she would ever select a bottle and remove it from its place.

As Sigyn skimmed over the tittle of each bottle, she contemplated which was suitable for the Queen of Asgard. None of them seemed to be eloquent enough, and so she passed by every bottle, not agreeing with her choices.

"This is hopeless," she muttered to herself. "I have no idea what she even likes."

"She'll drink anything."

A voice startled her, nearly causing her to drop her candle, but she got a grip on it, not daring to let it fall. She turned quickly on her heels, releasing her hold on her cloak, and caught sight of who had frightened her.

Prince Loki sat on one of the barrels in the cellar, cross legged in the most un-princely of fashions, skimming over the cellar with his great green eyes.

"And you have plenty of options," he continued. "She never really looked at labels. If it's from Vanaheim, she'll devour it in an instant."

Sigyn hadn't realized she was holding a hand over her heart, feelings its rapid beating. Loki's eyes fell upon her and immediately he had a reaction to the face she wore.

"Apologies," he spoke truly. "I honestly did not mean to startle you. It's just that ... well," he shrugged playfully, "things were getting rather boring in there. I needed an escape. You seemed like pleasant company."

"Thank you," she muttered, dropping her hand and standing up straight once more. "Sorry if I offended you."

"Not at all," he chuckled. "Sorry I scared you."

She waved it away, still catching her breath.

"No matter," she huffed.

"That dress compliments you splendidly, by the way." He concluded his praise with a wink.

"Thank you, my Prince," she said respectfully.

"I especially love the slits," he added, demonstrating the design of her dress on his own torso with his hands.

She wondered how long his focus on her dress would last, but lucky her, Loki easily got bored sticking to one subject, and so transitioned into something else entirely.

"Rather impressive cellar for some simple citizen," he began, hopping off of the barrel and shifting his gaze from one end of the room to the other. "Many options. Do you have a favorite in here?"

Sigyn shook her head, speaking honestly.

"Never got a chance to try any of them," she admitted, making Loki look to her in bewilderment.

"You haven't?" He cocked a brow.

Sigyn shook her head just as she did before, causing Loki to smile and laugh.

"Well, what are we doing just standing around here for? Pop open a bottle!" he suggested, but Sigyn had never allowed alcohol to touch her lips, and she wasn't about to.

"Forgive me, my Prince," she began, "but I am no drinker. I prefer water."

Loki looked to her strangely, as if he didn't believe her.

"You serious?" he questioned, honestly convinced she was just jesting.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Never heard that before." He raised his hands. "All right. I won't force you, but you are missing out. Just kill some time for me, at least. I cannot stand another dull moment listening to our mothers speak of unimportant things." He retook his seat upon the barrel, crossing his legs and letting a hint of mischief glitter in his eyes. "Give me something to do."

She had no idea what he wanted. Entertainment? She could provide none. Wine? She wasn't drinking. Not for him. Not for anybody. Stories? She read so few.

Read.

Prince Loki.

The letter!

"Um ..." She rubbed the back of her neck, slightly embarrassed, but who else was she going to ask. "Prince Loki," she squeaked.

"Yes, Sigyn?"

Wow. Actually remembered my name.

"Would you mind doing a citizen a favor?"

He threw his hands out to the side, smiling easily.

"Dear missy, that's why I exist," he replied. "To do my people favors. What kind of favor?"

"I received this letter," she explained. "It is from someone very important to me. Unfortunately, I cannot read it. Would you ... if you don't mind ... I mean ... if it's not too much trouble ..."

She noticed then a folded up piece of paper in his hands, and he already beginning to open it. He looked up to her, his face semi-serious as he did so.

"Under your pillow, right?" he asked, to which she nodded in disbelief.

"How did you-"

He shrugged.

"Most girls keep 'important things' under their pillows," he explained and cleared his throat, preparing to read the letter.

"Sigyn. Oh, that's you!" he expressed teasingly, making her smile and roll her eyes. He continued. "It took some time, but I finally managed to locate you. I hope that doesn't make me seem too obsessed- oh, it does," he joked, "but I have not been able to stop thinking about you since our time spent at the celebration last week.

"Oh, Sigyn." He wagged his eyebrows making her blush before he read on, putting on his best Theoric imitation, resulting in Sigyn's giggling.

"I was hoping I could see you again, to pick things up where we left off." He placed a hand on his heart, sitting up tall as if he was reading a dramatic scene in a play and creating false lament in his voice, making her laugh even more. "I do miss you greatly, and I know for a fact that I felt something special between us. I hope you felt the same."

He playfully sniffled and wiped a fake tear from his eye.

"I have an assignment coming up, but I wanted to see you before I left. I am currently residing within the palace, having become the All Father's personal warrior. However, I will be at the local tavern tomorrow night after sunset, sharing a drink with some companions before we leave for our mission. Please, feel free to stop by so I can see you before I go. I would want nothing more than to see your face again. If you do not feel as I do, then please do not show up to give me false hope, for if you do arrive, then I will assume it is because you feel something for me. Listen to what you want, Sigyn. Not what I crave.

"I wish you all the best.

"Theoric.

"Theoric? Who knew Theoric could muster up something as sappy as this?" Loki questioned when he concluded in his reading.

The young prince looked towards the girl in the cellar with him, cooing over every word that he had read to her, and finding it adorable that she was so hung up on someone that she had just met. It was clear that she felt the same way for Theoric as he did her- any moron could see it.

"You want to meet him, don't you?" Loki questioned, her blue eyes blinking to him.

"Beg pardon?"

"You want to meet him, don't you? Theoric. In the tavern. I can see it in your face, Sigyn. You want to go. You feel something. Don't you?"

She swallowed hard and turned away. She wasn't sure why she felt so guilty. It was a peculiar feeling, for she has always been a well behaved child. Now, she seemingly felt as though all of these new emotions were wrong, but how could they be? It's not like she deliberately went out seeking them.

"My mother would never let me go," she mumbled to the ground.

"I have a feeling she will," Loki chimed, but Sigyn only denied it.

"No. You don't know her like I do," she said. "She would never let me go out alone. Especially not to a tavern where a bunch of drunken men will be, no one there to protect me or make sure I get there and home safely. She would never let me go, no matter who it was with."

She then felt a touch on her shoulder; warm and tender, shocking and foreign, but comforting and welcoming all at the same time. She looked over said shoulder and caught the gaze of Loki's dashing green eyes, slightly crinkled by the smile he wore, mischief shinning in his emeralds.

"Even if it was with me?" he questioned with a raised brow.

They were laying on his bed, resting beside each other, his sewed up hand clutching onto one of her tiny ones. He studied their fingers as they traced over each other, his so much longer than hers; her fingers feeling so tiny against his hand, like she was still a child.

"You are very petite," he commented, shifting his gaze back up to her face. "Even more so than you were before. Have you stopped eating?"

She sighed some, her eyes still watching as her fingers danced with his in some random, estranged waltz that they created on their own. It wasn't rehearsed, wasn't thought up previously. This was just them- Loki and Sigyn- living in the moment, doing as they so desired.

"Sigyn," Loki pushed, half of her mouth tilting upwards because of his persistence.

"I just haven't been all that hungry," is what she settled on, but Loki knew better than that.

"Sigyn," he growled gently, finally able to grab her gaze. "You need to eat. Someone being this tiny is not healthy."

"Oh, Loki." She rolled her eyes. "I just haven't been hungry. It's not my fault."

"Oh, Sigyn," he mimicked her, bringing out a giggle and beautiful smile from her beautiful face. "I just want you to be all right. Promise me you'll start eating again."

"If I get my appetite back, sure," she vowed.

"Sigyn ..."

"All right. All right, Loki," she caved, getting annoyed by his demands. She heard them so often, they began to sound like a broken record. "Geez. I'll eat more. I promise."

"Thank you," he overly exaggerated.

"Of course."

They shared the silence for a moment, along with a smile and eye contact, just enjoying the others being there.

"Loki," Sigyn spoke softly, "I read up on some of Asgard's records. Between you and your mother, you were both very engaged in creating a better realm. It doesn't seem like she would be the one to leave the seat of the All Mother open and up to chance should anything happen to her. Your mother was a planner. Surely she would have to have someone in mind to take on her position as the All Mother if she passed."

Loki blinked his eyes rapidly- maybe to subdue tears for the mere mention of his mother, perhaps just to do so to give him time to think of a response. But whatever the reason, he eventually spoke his reply to Sigyn's words.

"She did select someone," he explained. "There can be an All Mother even if the All Father still stands. Her selected can be the acting All Mother until the All Father remarries, if ever. And she can maintain the position if the All Father dies until a new All Father and Mother takes her place. Same with the All Father position. You don't have to be married to the other for the title. My mother told me she selected someone, but who that someone is ..." he shook his head, "I have no idea. She failed to tell me before she passed."

Sigyn huffed, back to square one. Great annoyance filled her.

"Not to sound mean," she said, "but the All Father has begun to grow a bit ill tempered."

"You just noticed that?"

She laughed and he snickered.

"What was your punishment for coming to see me against his orders?" Loki questioned when they caught their breaths. "Nothing serious, I hope."

Sigyn shook her head, still grinning at Loki's sharp tongue and quick wits and wonderful sense of humor.

"Confinement to my chambers for a week," she informed him. "Many spoke up on my behalf."

"As they should," Loki commented. "Because you are worth every ounce of breath they have in their lungs."

She blushed, looking away for a moment, still nervous around him at times like these; when he was being kind an expressing true emotion.

"Please," he begged, turning her sights back towards him with his pleas, "don't dart your gaze away from me. I need to see it as much as I can."

Her breath hitched in her throat, her eyes on the brink of tears. He has changed since he fell off the bridge; for better or for worse, she wasn't sure, but changed ... she was positive of that.

"What happened to you?" she asked, letting it just slip out of her mouth. "After you fell off the Bifrost, what happened to you?"

His demeanor shifted in less then a second from that of content to great discomfort. Whatever happened to him, whatever it was he faced, he obviously did not enjoy digging up the memories of it. He didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to discuss it. She caught on to that rather quickly.

"No," he said. "No. We are not going to talk about that. No. That ... that is just ... I can't ..." Silver tongue turned to lead once more. "Sigyn, I ..."

"Sh," she hushed him smoothly and softly, holding his hand in hers and slowing the movement of her fingers, he following the gesture with his own. "We don't have to."

She was so close, her lips right there; so perky and pink. The way they have always been since the day he first saw her in the wine cellar, to the night at the tavern, and every night after that. Perfect, beautiful lips hand crafted by the creator of all life, whomever or whatever that was- the Gods Above Gods maybe? Who knows? Who cares? The point was, they were there, she was there, he was there, and for a small second, they were alone. There was no nine realms, there was no Aether, no Dark Elves, no prisoners, no Bifrost or Odin, Thor, Sif, nothing. There was just Loki and there was just Sigyn, together in this cell, in this bed.

He moved in close, brushing his lips tenderly against hers, closing his eyes to only focus on her touch. Her eyes shut as well, she kissing him back, savoring the feeling that she has been deprived of for such a long time; her husband's kiss.

Sigyn held his hand tighter with her fragile fingers, never wanting to let go of him ever again. She had lost him too many times already. She never wanted to lose him again.

Happy Halloween!