Author's notes:

Lovely Weed, thank you heaps for the review! I am very glad that you're still here and that you are still enjoying the story ;) I do try my best to keep my readers entertained!

Guest, thank you very much for your review! Haha, I am so glad that you're enjoying my story! That must have been a lengthy read :D Oh, there are quite a few things in store for the two godlings, and Prophecies is not even nearing its end yet. I do not know what kind of situations between the couple and the Odin family you have in mind, however I can definitely say that in the next segment of the story (not the next chapter) Sigyn will have some interactions with certain individuals from Loki's adoptive family. I hope to hear from you again! ;)

Chapter twenty-five

Springs

Loki and Sigyn had spent a day resting by the Hvergelmir. And while the Prince disliked the dampness that lingered in the air – the presence of his beloved had made it tolerable.

With their objective reached and the novelty of the vista spent, it had seemed to be the time for them to head back. However the Princess had wanted to see what was beyond the monumental wall of ice. While he'd believed that the scenery beyond it would not be anything extraordinary, he had chosen to entertain her wishes. They had enough time to make the venture and there had been something that she wasn't telling the boy-prince, he had been able to tell by her playful attitude and mysterious smiles that she thought there to be something else worth seeing.

The long walk to reach over the back of the humongous formation had not been strained in silence, there had been conversations of the varying sort. The white wall carved by the nature of Niflheim itself emitted cold and while it wasn't the coldest of what the realm could offer – it was still cold though. His lover had adorned her sweater, but it appeared to do little to stop her shivers. It was a minor nuisance, therefore the young man had not called forth any great efforts to ease her from the freezing temperature. However that did not mean that he had done nothing, as the direction of the cold air was from the ice mountain itself – he had changed their positions so that he would be closer to it. He had not known by exactly how much blocking the wind with his body aided, but he had done it anyway. The male had looped his arm around the female just to solidify the effect (if there indeed had been any changes created by the shift of sides).

Something, something about Asgard had pushed the God of Mischief into cold vocal rage. The girl had listened to the ranting Godling and she hadn't missed a word, but the biggest capturers of her attention were the intense emotions he emanated. It had not been the first for her to hear and see his anger, far from it, but as always it was not directed at her.

The Vanir Goddess had known the Aesir God to be dangerous, his passionate expressions of negativity testified that (of course his actions did not deny that either). She had wondered whether her lack of fear arose from her never being in the path of his destructive hatred. She had also mused at the time of his rant whether it was a foolish sense of security. It was clear that he was her safe-zone, her shadowy protector, alas that did not mean that she was untouchable to his displeasure. Maybe she was overthinking this – the young woman had thought, and maybe not.

She had never doubted his strength, even before their meeting she knew he had power – the type which should have instilled fear (but in Realm Eternal things were so in reverse). The God of Magic was a force to be reckoned with and she felt that he had made true to that (not many knew though – she had added in her mind). If there had been any doubt in her psyche then it was truly obliterated with the information she had just recently gotten from him. It had required quite the grand amount of prodding to get the sorcerer the tell her of Theoric's true demise. The answers the Lady had gotten were not lies, too well had his silver tongue failed, too worriedly honest were the words. She knew that he had feared her reaction; the torture, the death and the spell – too unforgivable in the minds of the naïve, but she was not that – had been at some point, although not for many ages now.

She hadn't told him though, what she knew of the people of Vanaheim – a trait she truly inherited. To a fault – she thought mournfully; in her understanding this aspect of the Vanir was the very reason of their loss in the Aesir-Vanir wars. This mentality came with a saying – an eye for an eye (oh but her kinsmen had known that equal retaliation never brought peace, however that kind of peace had never been their goal). And while the girl-woman had not been given reason to yearn for revenge against her 'betrothed' (and thank Norns, she was intact in mind, body and soul because of that fact and the intervention of her love) still she had emulated a similar hatred against the man (just without the actual shattering of what she was).

Why blame someone who saved you? Why care for how it was done? These two questions with absolute answers were something she had not needed to spend hours or even minutes contemplating. The God of Deceit was justified in her world of mind, but that did not mean that she had to agree that it had been a 'fitting' punishment. No, there was no negativity that she could push onto the Throne Heir. Still, she had thought that even half of what had happened would have sufficed. Torture – depending on how the executioner (Loki) felt, death – a certain necessity, the soul erasing – not necessary, the other soldiers' demise – collateral damage, poor things – but a required sacrifice. For the matter of the next-to-last mention on that list then she truly didn't think that she had required that much saving, but her response had been only a mental shrug. And for the last, then any embers of conscience were snuffed with the reminder of how many Vanir, innocent Vanir, whole families had been slayed by Asgardians in the war. And oh, there had been little of that on their side because in reality the root of those armed conflicts was the expansion of Asgard. Vanaheim had been on defense (and a valiant one it had been), therefore very few of the war-nonrelated Aesir had fallen. So with the near extinction of a whole race at the one end of the scale – the deaths of few, plus a handful of warriors (when comparing to the general numbers of Realm Eternal's armies) did not make much of a change in the heavily outweighed balance. Maybe the Goddess of 'fidelity' would have reconsidered if she'd been in either the murder of her 'fiancé' or the wars (she very much doubted that about the latter), but she had not been present and so the topic had been left for dead in her head.

The God of Lies had been spewing random heated accusations, demands and complaining of the unfairness of it all – concerning matters that Sigyn cared little about (but she did care for the Godling's wellbeing, so in a sense she did care even if she hadn't been listening to the words very attentively). She had considered the possibilities of them arguing with this spirit being on his side. They had argued – yes, but even when from aside their bickering could have appeared to be vivid or dangerous, in all actuality it was playful. Never did they greet any matter that would force them to vocally claw and spit venom into each other's faces. It would probably be just wishful thinking – she had decided, that a fiery confrontation would never occur between them. So far there had been nothing to indicate them having the capacity to truly enrage one another. But in the end of those thoughts she had shaken them away with the thinking that she would have to deal with what she was dealt then when the cards would be dealt – not before. The Vanir Princess did not have a reason and did not want a reason to begin considering the Lie God as something else than her beautiful and loved-more-than-anything pet, his claws were for others and she would sharpen them (and her own) if need be (or just as a precaution). That had been the way she threw the churning musings out into the deep space.

The time spent walking counted more than several hours past. And while their path promised to be long, the royal male had not changed into any of his hamingja. It was not that he could not do it, for a gifted shapeshifter such as he – it was not a task that demanded an outrageous amount of energy. There were two main reasons why he had chosen not to use the ability. One was because he doubted that his lover was used to horse-riding (seeing as she always travelled on foot) and without such experience – riding anything was taxing and did leave its marks. So while saddle sores were not quite the problem, riding something without such equipment only added to the strain of a (presumably) untrained rider that the Lady was. It was also a possibility that he might have constantly diminished her recuperation and healing abilities throughout their relationship, but still in his mind it was clear that if she wasn't sore now (or no longer sore) then she would be after another ride.

The second reason was that he'd hoped that she would shorten their journey all on her own, using the boundary-denying ability that she was quite good at. Given if he wouldn't distract her too much, maybe the girl would unconsciously get them around the great ice wall faster. Therefore all that had been left was to rely on their feet – not that the young God minded too much.

With that out of the way he had managed to trek in relative silence. But the figurative burden of not knowing where they were going just got heavier with each minute that had fallen into oblivion. And, as it happened quite frequently, his curiosity got the better of him. Because really he didn't care for the probability of finding whatever they were currently searching for (they had found Hvergelmir with stunning ease, so he could not fault the half-blood Vanir's senses). If they had managed to find a mythical Well (waterfall/river actually) then it wasn't very ridiculous even if she now wanted to find some mythical creature. So the Heir asked, being too riled up to swallow the inquiry.

"What are we looking for exactly?"

The female heard him of course and her first reaction was to turn her head to the side rather than meet his gaze. The male had almost expected to be given sight of more of that elusive behavior she had shown before, however she did answer, looking somewhat... embarrassed? And at that moment he was sure that this was based on a feeling more likely than anything else. But that did not matter, not really, for so far she had been impressively accurate in her ethereal sensation based theories. And furthermore – the chances of him changing his mind once hearing the answer were pretty much nonexistent. They had actually sought out Hvergelmir, so going on a wild goose chase (on the nonexistent kind of geese) was quite acceptable.

"Well..." she drew out the word. "I didn't want to tell you because it was really such a random thought, improbable even..."

"Oh, so what was it?" he egged her on, his patience being long lost.

"Well... You see, we've found the Mother River and... I just thought that we should search for the Spring" she watched his eyes for another second after her answer was spoken aloud and then turned her flustered features away from his line of sight.

It was clear that the young woman had thought of Niflheim's magical 'Well' as a dual thing, and in her strangely brilliant mind she believed there to be more of it somehow. While he left that part of her idea alone without thoroughly dissecting it with his unmerciful mental capacity, there were still inconsistencies with her theory that begged him to question them in her presence.

"But then should not that spring or springs be somewhere down the river's stream? Why are we heading behind the source to look for it?" the God of Lies did not mean to sound condescending – because he wasn't scrutinizing her plan, therefore he tried to intonate the inquiries as innocently curious as possible.

She did not misinterpret his tone and her response was firmer. Seeing as she wasn't rebuffed, her answer sounded very assured, but the content of it wasn't something without room for doubt – the contradiction was just too endearingly Sigyn.

"Dunno. I just think that that's where it is"

Loki chuckled quietly at that.

"Alright then"

And although her answers weren't informative in the least; no elaborate or thrilling new objective given – they still sated his need to know, that was all that he needed anyway.

Fortunately the Asgardian Prince was correct in his calculation and with his companion's determination she had unconsciously used her power. They found themselves in the center of the ice wall's back and not the side as they should have. The two Gods left Hvergelmir behind them and the oppressing mists that it emanated. A good while later, when the capricious fog had finally let up, they stopped.

He tried not to feel too surprised by the sight that stood before them. It was not quite a spring that they had located but rather a plentitude of water-bodies – small and large, and what seemed to be moors stretching as far as the hazes allowed sight.

The woman's reaction was a joyous grin thrown his way and he couldn't force himself not to smirk back. Whether these hot springs were part of the mystical river mattered little because they were simply there where she had predicted they would be. Truly it was another reason to believe her to be the Goddess of Victory, combined with her Vanir senses she seemed to be beyond lucky in her guesses.

There was nothing extraordinary about the scenery, nothing that he had not seen before. But it did not matter just as it wasn't important whether these water-bodies were part of Hvergelmir (well by the idea all waters were spawned by it, but he meant the possible proprieties of it), his love's joy was enough for him to believe this to be a successful day.

With measured steps they approached one of the nearest larger waterholes. The Dark Godling was so distracted by the idea that maybe these were safe enough for him to get the sample he so wished to attain – that he didn't see her kneel by the spring. The girl-woman allowed her hand to hover above the surface, inspecting the temperature. Finding it harmless enough she dipped her limb underneath the liquid.

He had turned his attention to her just as she carelessly allowed her hand to be submerged in the water. It was as if she had forgotten how the vial he had taken before had shattered. With an angry hiss he made the motion to yank her away but was stopped by her melodic voice.

"The water's perfect" she informed him, sounding extremely happy.

The man's hands were on her shoulders, just a second away from pulling her to him and away from the tiny lake, and relaxed only when she had removed her wet limb. He sighed heavily as she hummed in appreciation of her findings. A comparison was born in his stressed mind, one that he had never wanted to make. At the moment he attested to her something that he often did to Thor (and he never wanted to find similarities between his brother and the Vanir Lady). He did not know whether she was bravely foolish or foolishly brave (it just seemed to be one and the same but it was not). And it shouldn't have been too strange, after all she did travel uncharted territories with only a dagger, some magic and luck as her guides and caretakers. Still it didn't sit well with him that she could act so brainlessly.

The God of Trickery released her shoulders from his captivity as she made the motion to rise up. He glared, not liking the idea of letting her out of his sight for another moment – who knew what trouble she could get into? He observed but a step away (ready to just carry her away if she did something foolish again). He saw her raise her hands in order to get rid of the sweater she wore.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, being much too upset to sound civil.

"What does it look like?" she answered with a question, tone indicating the obviousness of her intentions.

Of course the Trickster God knew what she planned on doing. It was only wishful thinking to assume that she was only relieving herself of the garment because it was no longer that cold for her to need it.

He scowled as he wracked his brain for a way to rid her of the stupid idea, in a manner that would be convincing to his peculiar 'wife' (or maybe just a comeback would suffice, if it were only enough to distract her with being angry with him). However he wasn't fast enough as she regarded him with annoyance clear in her blue eyes and said.

"Aren't you going to undress? Or should I just push you into the water clothed?"

The God of Deceit just grimaced more.

"You are not going to swim there." his voice was meant to sound final but she interpreted it to be just an insect-sized resistance.

"And why shouldn't I?"

"Because you have no idea of what the effects of the waters are!" he sneered. "And recklessly you had tested it! It is fine now, but there is no way to be certain that there won't be any side effects after a while and risking having that all over your body is foolish beyond belief!"

She looked him over as if he were an obnoxious child who was throwing a tantrum just because he was denied to play with his favorite toy. Completely unfazed by (what she categorized as) his childish behavior she responded with fraying patience.

"The water is fine and it will be fine. The only question here is whether you are joining me, leaving or am I supposed to drag you together with me?"

"Had you not hear what I said?! That water can be potentially dangerous and I will have to keep an eye on that hand of yours to make sure that you are alright!"

"I heard what you said. I am fine and I will be fine. Now don't be a coward and come on"

He crossed his arms appearing utterly unimpressed by her firmness on the topic. He shot a simmering look her way, knowing full well that the female registered it.

"Do you honestly believe that by calling me a coward that will entitle me to act like one? You will not accomplish anything by throwing taunts or dares my way"

She shrugged.

"I'm not saying that you are a coward, but you are. You're acting like one now"

He glared and she only smiled in return. With a giggle she shook her head, the girl knew that her lover did not lack bravery.

"Suit yourself, Loki. You are overthinking it, everything is going to be fine. You can stick around and see for yourself because one way or another – I am going to soak in this lovely spring. And. you. can't. do. anything. about. it"

"Oh, I can, do not doubt that, Sigyn" the Trickster said smugly.

"You can" she agreed. "But you won't"

"And why is that?"

She continued undressing while she replied to his question. Their 'argument' had turned playful.

"Heck, I don't know. I have no idea why you won't but you won't"

He gave her the best incredulous look he had in his arsenal and she only found it to be comical. The Lady continued to undress undeterred. The male let out a sigh that was worth ten hollowed trees that had caught wind inside them. He wanted to stop her (and oh, he could) but true to her words he decided not to – feeling slightly defeated.

It was most reasonable for him to stay and watch her (although giving her freedom to do as she pleased led him to believe that it was highly unlikely to have her stay close to the bank) and if something were to go wrong – he could always quickly get her out and then try to fix whatever that would not be right. So it was not wise to join her because that way both of them could be in danger. But he thought that perhaps he was a tad paranoid (understatement of the century) over this, especially given the fact that he had trusted the young Goddess's judgment concerning the black pool in the Unnamed Realms.

Both Godlings stayed in their undergarments (it was not that kind of activity that they were planning on engaging). To him it was endearing – the mismatching colors of the pieces of her underwear, both were covered in quirky patterns. The God held the Goddess's hand as she entered the hot spring, he would have gone first himself if that would not have proved that he had been riled up by her taunts. He joined once both of her feet were securely on the ground of the spring.

The water was shallow, just a bit above his ankles, but it deepened gradually. When the Heir was chest-deep the temperature managed to wrench out a hiss from him. It was hot – not overbearingly so, alas still above what he would have categorized as warm. The liquid surrounding him did not prove to be any more suspicious now that he had treaded into it. The clean but murky (due to its lack of translucency) water did not bubble quite as ominously as Hvergelmir.

The girl walked while she still could. The liquid that filled this hole did not unsettle her. But her love's warnings had spurned on an uncharacteristic double take on it. She thought more about it then she would have (for she trusted her instincts without questioning, most of the time), but found nothing worthy to be wary of. The only thing that she didn't feel too certain about was the possibility of unknown creatures swimming underneath, although as much as she could tell there were none – at least at this depth. The overthinking made her imagine slimy critters inhabiting the warm mud her feet sunk in, squirming between her toes – but that was only an illusion created by her mind and she knew that there was nothing like that beneath her.

With a keen eye and never too far behind, the Prince swam following the Vanir. She didn't go far and it turned out that she probably wasn't interested too much in swimming the spring across and back of its entirety, for she stopped without even reaching the third of its length. Turning to the side she languidly reached it and rested her arms on the bank (thankfully there weren't any water-grasses to disallow her approach).

The young man joined her momentarily. He was rewarded with a brilliant smile from her.

"I told you that the water's perfect" she said dreamily.

No denial or affirmative was offered. Yes, it wasn't bad (although it wasn't exactly perfect), but he'd be damned to show his capitulation so readily.

The God of Mischief guessed that this was what she had intended to do – to simply soak in the water. The female had stopped just beside a tree that half-fell into the water (it appeared to have been chopped rather than broken by wind, thunder or something of the sort, because at least a half of it was missing and the cut was quite clean). The dead plant was definitely not a pine, perhaps a willow of some kind, and by the state of some remaining leaves he could guess that it had fallen quite recently. As his hands almost blindly searched under the water for any branches of the tree that he could sit onto, he found that the bark was covered with moss (the feel of it was strange but not unpleasant) – so maybe the fall hadn't been as recent as he'd estimated.

Soon the Godling found that there was a large branch that he could rest upon – and so he did. He shot his lover a questioning look when she used the tree to climb somewhere. She sat down behind him, a bit higher than him and she was in the water up to her stomach. Questions weren't issued – if Sigyn wanted to sit there, let her, it promised to be a comfortable position. And he wasn't wrong about that.

The Princess wound her legs around his torso and the Lie God's hands instantly took to caressing them. Her arms also found their way about his neck and she pressed a kiss to his temple. He really didn't mind her – his small creature, coiling around him like this. Her wet front was flush against his back, making him exhale forcefully through his nose from pure delight. Her breasts pressed into him and while without the brasserie it would have been better – there really wasn't any reason to complain.

The God of Deceit thought that it wouldn't get any better. However he changed his mind when she drew back – that retraced loads from the pleasantness he felt and then quickly there was another change – it felt good, good, good... The girl-woman's hands clasped his shoulders and squeezed, the pressure – firm but soft. She began kneading his muscles and what, what – but he wasn't expecting her to massage him. The royalty of Realm Eternal hadn't really realized how tense he was until her divine touch descended upon him. It felt as if she knew where to press and how hard to press to alleviate him from the strain his body was unknowingly laced with. It was relaxing and he yielded to the sensation just enough to feel without burden, but not enough to lose all awareness of his surroundings.

At that moment the God of Lies couldn't be bothered with caring whether this hot spring was directly of Hvergelmir or if it had the most amazing healing abilities in the Nine Realms. Because it could have been that and had that, but it would be bested by the Vanir Goddess's touch – for him it was the best remedy in the Universe.

A/N

Hey, this is me again, this time not explaining any terms but just a random tidbit of information (which you may know or may not care for at all). This is for those who like small bits of random stuff :)

I shall further elaborate on this line: "The male let out a sigh that was worth ten hollowed trees that had caught wind inside them" – this is not just a totally random thing about trees making sound, actually hollowed-out trees (that have rotted inside) let out howling sounds when wind gets trapped in them. I do not think that I have ever heard such a thing, but it is described as very loud and ominous. In fact, ages ago when people were not aware of that – they had believed that those howls were made by some huge beasts that lived in the woods.

(...Yes, completely useless info, you are free to move on now...)