BIG QUESTION! I really need an answer for this one guys. Should I continue writing this fic or tie it off and write a sequel? Leaning towards just continuing, but I know lots of chapters in one story can be a little overwhelming. Thoughts? PLEASE ANSWER! please… :D

That being said, this fic isn't really anywhere near being finished. I still need a main conflict lol.

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Thor caught Sigyn's arm as she brushed past him, attempting to enter his brother's room. The woman's fair, open face was alight with excitement over news of her beloved's return. Frigga had tried to stifle the flow of information as much as possible after the initial excitement to give Loki and the Wolf some degree of privacy during the redhead's long sleep, but no secrets were kept for long in the golden halls of Gladsheim. Three days had been all they could manage. From the look of utter delight on the Vanir woman's face, the Thunderer was concerned that she might not know of the company his brother was keeping.

"Thor," she smiled in greeting, confusion crossing her face. "How is Jane? I'm sure she was delighted to see you upon your last visit."

He smiled briefly at the memory of the small scientist's reaction to his weekly arrival at her doorstep. How she managed to love him – even after he'd broken his promise to return to her – was often beyond his comprehension. "She is well, Lady Sigyn. And how is your garden? You mentioned not long ago your roses were soon to be in bloom." Thor was not one for small talk, but the slight woman seemed so much like a child in her innocence he often felt the need to indulge her in conversation. She had always been so much his brother's opposite – how Odin and her father had ever expected the match to succeed would forever be a mystery.

"They're absolutely lovely. I picked some just this morning for your mother. Everyone's seemed so out of sorts these last few days." She laughed, and the sound reminded Thor of nothing less than the tinkling of small bells. "I suppose I understand a bit better since a few moments ago. Can you imagine the servants forgot to tell me he was back? I only heard it in passing. I'd still be wandering the halls without a clue in the world."

Thor couldn't hide his guilty grimace in time, and Sigyn was quick to be concerned for him. "Whatever is the matter? Are you well?"

"I do not believe now is the time to visit my brother," he stated simply, looking firmly into her warm brown eyes, which quickly turned to confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"That is a conversation for another time." He felt awful for concealing the truth from her – Sigyn had that effect on nearly everyone. He knew she would be hurt and conflicted when she found out about the Little Wolf, and he thought that perhaps it would be better if the subject were broached earlier rather than later. But that was a conversation his brother would have to have.

"What is going on, brother?" Her gaze turned slightly suspicious and angry as she slowly began putting some of the pieces together. He suppressed the inner twinge at how she addressed him, he was betraying her trust – had betrayed her trust – and he knew it. He was not her brother – not formally, at least – but they had always been as close as siblings, and there was a certain degree of responsibility there.

"Sigyn – " he entreated, but she had already jerked herself out of his grip and stormed to the gilded doors, throwing them open in front of her.

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Loki thought he might just decide to die right then. As Sigyn – beautiful, innocent, devoted Sigyn – burst into the room, he was sure, at the very least, his heart skipped a rather large, important beat. There was so much he still needed to tell Cara, and he had thought he might have more time before coming to this particular bump in the road.

As he watched the shock and betrayal register on the blonde woman's face, he amended "bump" to "very large patch of quicksand." Although he was sure he cringed visibly, the external reaction he was having did not compare to the impressive panic attack he was having internally.

Cara, naturally, picked up on it. Although she hadn't known him for very long in the grand scheme of things, the hunter had a knack for sensing his shifts in moods that was almost alarming. If she was anyone else, he'd be worried that she'd gotten too close. Then again, it didn't take god-like powers of observation to notice him searching the room for a convenient exit.

The small woman was sitting cross legged on the bed, the tray of food Thor had just brought in for her planted firmly in front of her. One of the his old, plain shirts covered her shoulders, and Loki had been considering only a moment ago how nice the garment would look crumpled up in the corner of the room. Now, however, he only felt a wave of guilt surging through him.

Not for kissing her – no, there was no way in the Nine Realms he would allow himself to feel guilty for that. But he knew there were a number of things he probably should have told her in the cave.

Sigyn's eyes welled up with tears – the girl had always held her emotions on her sleeves. "Loki?" she asked quietly.

Cara stopped chewing the roll she'd been stuffing into her mouth to watch in what Loki would imagine to be some degree of masochistic fascination.

"Lady Sigyn." He inclined his head. Distance. He had to keep that distance he'd fought for year after year of being around her. All other methods of handling the situation he could think of would end in catastrophe.

"Brother, I'm sorry. She just – ." Thor emerged from the hallway, looking as if he'd killed a small puppy and felt horrible about it. In any other scenario, Loki would have laughed – or attempted to kill him.

"It's alright, Thor," he sighed, thinking to himself that it was anything but alright. On the cusp of personal Ragnarok would be a more adequate description of how he was feeling, but it wasn't really Thor's fault. He had to pull it together.

"I just found out you'd returned," the goddess clasped her hands simply in front of her silver-trimmed white gown, doe-like eyes fixed demurely on the exceptionally confused human in the bed. "I didn't know… I thought you'd be…"

Loki watched her carefully. "This is Cara, Sigyn. She has saved my life on several occasions since I've been gone."

"And is that all she is to you?"

He considered the question carefully, knowing the answer she wanted to hear and also knowing that was an answer he could not give. She would not look at him. "No. She is much more than that." He could literally feel Cara fidgeting in burning curiosity beside him as she picked apart the bread in her hands. "Cara," he began, shifting his gaze to meet hers, "this is the Lady Sigyn, my – "

"His wife."

He looked up sharply at the quiet response. "We've talked about this before. You are not my wife."

"What would you call it then?" She could certainly look at him now, her slender frame trembling with the hot fury of betrayal.

"An arranged betrothal."

"For two thousand years. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"It means you have been a dear friend for a very long time. Nothing more."

"So you will cast me aside for this mortal you've barely met?"

"Sigyn –."

"After everything –."

"Sig –."

"Do you –."

"Will you shut up!" he shouted at last, feeling his rage overtake his senses. He fought to regain his composure, although he knew he was very close to losing control and plunging back into the spiral of self-loathing he'd only just escaped. He took a deep breath, fists clenched into tight balls and white-knuckled with the effort. "I have deceived a great many people, Sigyn, but you have never been counted among them. I can never be what you have desired."

The blonde stood quietly, eyes on the floor, as if she were attempting to process new information and couldn't handle any additional input for the time being. Hopeful that the point would come through clearly, Loki risked a glance at Cara.

She was wearing an expression he'd come to know very well, although he'd only seen its true depth once. Usually the look preceded getting splashed in the face with searing venom. This time, however, the cold fury that consumed her seemed more akin to how she'd reacted the when he'd scoffed at her brother. Her hands were gripping the blankets at her knees with such intensity Loki thought they might rip beneath her fingers. Food was forgotten. Asgard was forgotten. He could see it in her face.

"Cara?" he called softly, afraid she might hurt herself so soon after waking up. Part of him recognized she would be perfectly fine – he might not end up that way, but she wouldn't do any lasting damage to herself before he could stop her. But he couldn't help but think of her as being more fragile than she'd been when she'd first found him in the cave.

Silently, she pushed herself up from the bed and padded to the door on bare feet. She paused for a moment before leaving, speaking coolly over her shoulder. "You have a lot of explaining to do. I suggest you get your story straight before I get back."

Thor, to Loki's supreme frustration, did nothing to stop her as she strode out the door and into the golden corridor. The Trickster quickly began to stride after her, but was stopped by the blonde bear – as Cara had taken to calling him in conversation – before he could do much of anything. And he'd been so long without magic, it didn't even occur to him to teleport away.

"Wait, brother."

"Thor –."

"If there is anything I've learned from Jane, it is to not follow women when they are angry with you. You'll only make it worse."

Loki wondered briefly when his brother had begun sprouting tidbits of wisdom at opportune moments, but was quickly called back to the matter at hand. "Thor," he pointed out, gesturing after the retreating form of the human woman. "She isn't wearing pants."

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When someone becomes as angry as Cara was at that point, they have a tendency to lose focus on their surroundings. All that mattered was the ground beneath her feet and the thoughts raging through her skull. Vaguely, she realized that the few people around her were whispering to each other and giving her strange looks. But she was beyond caring for quite a while. It was only when she came face to face – or face to chest, if height was being taken into account – with someone who refused to move that she started paying any sort of attention to what else was going on.

She glared up at the offending individual, debating internally whether it would make her feel any better to pick a fight with someone. She was greeted by the amused blue gaze of a middle aged woman who seemed to radiate authority – probably not the best candidate for a knock down drag out brawl that Cara was destined to lose.

"Is something wrong, dear?" The woman's voice was warm and soft and breathed of everything a mother should be – the mother Cara wished she'd had but hadn't. Tears came unbidden to her angry glare and she looked away. Why was she crying? He was engaged. Better to find out now than later.

Cara couldn't bring herself to resist as the woman draped an arm around her shoulders and began leading her off somewhere, talking softly and comfortingly to her as she went.

"Come now, let's get you some proper clothes on and you can tell me all about it. I've been told I'm a wonderful listener, you know. I think I have something warm to drink in my chambers as well – yes, I think that should help."

The mortal – for that was how she was beginning to feel – trudged along beside her, remaining silent as angry tears slid down her cheeks. She wasn't listening in the least, and was far too consumed by the ridiculous sense of betrayal she was failing to keep in check. She told herself that a kiss meant nothing – there was no commitment in a kiss. He'd said nothing of having feelings for her. She'd simply let herself believe that it was possible. Stupid, stupid girl. He'd long been committed to someone else.

Some remaining sensible part of her tried to remember what it was he'd said before she'd left the room, but she elected to ignore that little voice inside her head for fear it was lying to her.

She barely noticed as the older woman brought her through another set of gilded double doors and into a warm, cheery dressing chamber. Cara was sat down in a large chair as the woman placed a small cup of some warm liquid in her hands and went about trying to find something that would fit the girl.

"Care to talk about it, dear?"

The hunter slowly began to decide it might be a good idea to pay a little bit more attention to reality, and two questions immediately popped into her head. Who was this woman who practically embodied maternal instinct? And how did she feel familiar enough with her to call her "dear" in every other sentence?

Since full sentences were still somewhat beyond her ability to formulate, Cara responded simply. "Sigyn."

"Ah yes. I was wondering when that particular issue would come up. I imagine it didn't go as well as it could have?"

Cara mutely shook her head and took a sip of what turned out to be warm cider. "Never mentioned he was engaged."

"I imagine it's never been very important to him. Odin and Sigyn's father arranged their betrothal when they were both very young – this was naturally before my husband learned that it was a good idea to listen to his wife. Sigyn was always very attached to the idea of marrying Loki, but he never seemed to pay much attention to it. I think if he was going to marry her at all he would have done it a long time ago."

Some of what she said made sense, and Cara stored the rest of it away in her mind for reevaluation after she'd calmed down sufficiently. "And Sliepnir?"

The woman laughed as she pulled something out of the large wardrobe. "Not too many people know about that particular tale. He's always been rather embarrassed about that escapade. Sliepnir is much more like a horse than a son – the exception being a peculiar number of legs. Loki's always been sure to keep him comfortable – and that horse never wants for anything. Beyond that, I doubt Sliepnir really cares too much."

Cara thought silently for a moment, allowing her senses to return to her. For some odd reason, she was overly inclined to believe this woman – although she was still working out exactly who she was. She knew an awful lot about a lot of things people apparently weren't supposed to know a lot about.