(SIGYN)

Theo finally convinced me to attend formal archery lessons, which commenced on a hot afternoon behind the palace. He praised my natural talent for swordplay and throwing knives—both of which felt like extensions of my hands—but something about the taut bow was foreign and frustrating. I resisted every step of the way.

After my fifth arrow let loose and landed only two-thirds of the way across the field, I groaned and stomped my foot.

Theo sighed, equally as frustrated as I was. "Come on, Siggy. I know you've got the strength for it."

"It isn't about strength," I said, choosing another arrow from the quiver at my side. "This stupid strap keeps hitting my arm. It hurts. Why are you so insistent that I do this?"

"I just want you to be well-rounded, that's all." He put a hand on my shoulder and met my gaze, looking remorseful for my discomfort. His innocent eyes could convince me of anything.

Perhaps you'll appreciate my disinterest in this when I'm well-rounded to the front instead of with fighting. I sucked in a breath and held the bow up once again.

His focus was pulled by someone waving on the other end of the field. "Another soldier's calling me...please keep practicing." He kissed my cheek as he left—a sweet act I fought weeks to achieve after convincing him that such a thing came nowhere close to breaking his purity oath. Until then, his lips only graced the top of my hand.

I held my position and closed my eyes, releasing a long breath. The first bend of my index finger was somewhat sore from pulling back on the bow, making me all the more unsteady. I tried to focus on anything else—the heat upon my shoulders, the woodsy soap from the laundry behind, even the whips of other arrows hitting their marks with swift perfection—telling myself this was only temporary, and Theoric would eventually hear me when I said I had no interest in joining the army.

Unlike the perfect steps I memorized for handling my blade, I had no easy mantra for this. Even with perfect aim, how much does wind interfere? Should I shift my feet? While debating what to do next, the voices of other soldiers hushed as if the wind carried them off.

Concentrate. Breathe.

My peace didn't last long. A man whispered behind me, "Your form is wrong."

I snapped in response, "Right. And I suppose—" It wasn't a soldier, trainer, or otherwise. His presence took the remaining air straight from my lungs and I immediately relaxed the bow. "Sire...forgive me. I thought you were someone else."

False Odin nodded, though the glimmer in his eye was as bright as ever.

I put my hands behind my back to appear meek, which was strange after months of freedom and authority of my own. The awkwardly large bow and arrow didn't help, either.

"Sigyn the archer...that's new, isn't it?" His light tone put me at ease.

"Yes," I said, holding up the weapon again. "Far from star pupil, I'm afraid."

"I'm sure you'll rise to the top, as you have everything else." He stood up straight, absent his usual sceptre, evidently making rounds to check on the progress of his troops. I couldn't recall if he casually conversed much with others before the war, but the nonplussed reactions of the people around us told me this was routine now.

"Everything else...you've noticed my training?"

"You're difficult to miss. Much has reached my ears about how you bested my finest swordsman. Theoric is quite impressed with you." False Odin stepped closer, nodding in silence for a beat to raise a gate to his words. "And so am I."

Why did it stir me so to hear from him the same words Theo had said for months? I dipped my face to hide the blush. "I'm flattered. Though as you can see, archery is where my talent ends."

"No—you lack talent for patience." He smirked, saying more than anyone overhearing would know.

I rolled my eyes, too flippant for my own good, but our hidden understanding of each other showed in every word, every movement, every tacit glance. Overstepping bounds didn't exist. "You're right...but what does patience have to do with this?"

"Only everything. May I?" He raised his hands, inviting me to aim with the arrow once more and asking my permission to assist.

Since magic was the only way I would get the arrow to the other end of the field, I agreed, turning as he stood behind me. Before I even pulled back on the bow, he made me pause.

"Wait—you've barely nocked your arrow."

"Nock? What's that?"

"The bit here that goes around the bowstring. Put that in place first."

I was impatient—just as he said—and clenched my jaw before raising the bow. "How do I aim?"

"You don't. Is it straight? Your arrow?"

"Of course it is. It's rested on the handle perfectly fine."

His right hand barely touched my left, pushing it down. "Take another look. Hold it sideways."

I grumbled. What a waste of time. My dislike grew by the second. But sure enough, when I looked down, the arrow was slightly off-kilter. The change in perspective revealed the flaws I couldn't see when I thought everything was in line.

Much like how my perspective of Theoric changed when this other man stood next to me, touching me, unafraid to be close.

"See?" he said, changing the alignment while still mostly behind me. "This is where you should begin."

I couldn't speak anymore. Was the heat flooding my ears embarrassment? Irritation? Or was I purposely ignoring the way my knees slackened and heart thundered so I could pretend it was something else?

With a deep breath, I raised the bow again as he directed.

"Now, mind your feet. Straight toes."

I did so, firmly setting my place on the grass in my boots—a new addition to my wardrobe, thanks to Theoric.

He whispered, tickling my ear, "I'm glad I outlawed uncomfortable shoes."

I snorted. "Stop that."

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," he said, resuming the lesson. "Now, focus on the air. What do you hear?"

I closed my eyes again, taking in everything. His breath. My heartbeat. The call of a raven behind us. And a quiet whistle of breeze ahead. "Wind. Blowing to the east."

"That's right. And your ears also keep you balanced. Do you feel steady?"

No. I'm on a boat. I'm falling over. I'm tumbling into nothing. I cleared my throat. "Yes, perfectly steady."

"Draw the bowstring and look ahead."

I pulled back as far as I could, still concerned about the angry slaps against my left forearm from the misfires before. My whole body tensed as a result.

He didn't change his position, but his tone shifted. Quiet, but not a whisper. Formal, yet intimate. "Where do you think your energy is right now?"

"My shoulders." They were tight. High. Aching to release.

"Let it flow down your arms." With his hands on either side of me, he trickled his fingertips from my shoulders to my elbows. "Put the energy here, then to your hands, where you'll give it to the arrow."

The goosebumps erupting all over me were more than welcome. I'd missed them.

"Take a deep breath now."

I did so, inhaling through my nose, where a note I nearly forgot took over. Rain. Freshness. Cold. Clear.

Loki.

"Halfway through your exhale, release. Be it energy, anger, frustration, impatience...give it all to the arrow and send it away."

If only that were so easy. Trusting in his instruction, I deflated my lungs and let go. While I still lacked perfect aim, my arrow finally hit the target.

Success lifted my whole body. "I hit it. I really hit it." I laughed and turned to face him, stepping away so others wouldn't register how close we still were. "Thank you. I really thought I hated this."

"No, you hate everyone's eyes on you if you fail." He gave me a closed-mouth smile—the kindest expression I'd ever seen from him in Odin's form.

"You're right. Judgment—" I paused, now aware what he meant. His distance. His doubts. Fueled by a crippling fear of failure.

False Odin didn't wait for me to finish, ready to move on to the next station of people on the field. "Like I said, you're a star in your own right. Have patience, Ginny." He turned away and resumed his exaggerated limp.

His last word made the ground disappear. My stomach rushed as if falling from a great height. The same heat in my cheeks and my ears returned with full force.

Theo reappeared so quickly I didn't know what direction he came from. "Siggy, is that your arrow down there?" His excited grin was genuine and playful, yet I found it cloying, much like the waft of whatever he bathed in that morning. "You're getting the hang of this?"

I ripped my gaze from where it stuck, staring at False Odin, to focus on the lover at my side. "Yes. The...the Allfather helped me."

"Allfather?" Theo's eyes went wide. "Wow. I wouldn't have expected that."

"Why not?" I loaded another arrow. "After all, he is ultimately Asgard's greatest fighter, is he not?"

"Not that. One needs two eyes to shoot an arrow." He chuckled, not giving it too much more thought.

I drew back the bowstring and considered Theo's words, worrying about this revelation. If Loki wasn't more careful with how he appeared, even in this more likeable state, it wouldn't take long for someone else to notice.

I'd gotten used to Theo taking me to the great hall for banquets, though I preferred to eat in the quiet of my chambers next to Tiwaz and occasionally with Thyra. But being courted wasn't unpleasant. Nights with those I cared for became predictable routines—my soldier would leave a token at my door, a note with his plans for the next day, and he'd always arrive when he said he would.

Liv was right—it was a bit boring at times. But I would take predictability over instability any day.

Theo wasn't incapable of surprise, though, and led me out to the courtyard stables instead of the great hall one night. A horse was already prepared with a saddle and reins, waiting for our arrival.

"What's all this?" I asked, fascinated by the animal and whatever he had up his sleeve.

"It's time to take you to my favorite place. Step up." Theo lifted me to straddle the beast and mounted next, wrapping one of his strong arms around my waist to hold me close. His warmth overpowered anything I found unpleasant—either about him or the height. With a quick kick back, he commanded the horse forward to a swift gallop against the wind.

I closed my eyes to soak in the air, grateful my hair was already tied back. No man had ever taken me on a horse, and Theo was a skilled rider. His easy control made an otherwise daunting activity comfortable. This is more like it.

Far outside the city boundaries to the north, we came to a clearing at the base of the mountains. An empty fire pit welcomed us. Theo dismounted and held his arms up to catch me as I slid down. He lingered with me in his arms, holding me up to show off his strength. It never failed to impress me how effortless he made it seem.

"It is only fitting that I take the most beautiful woman to Asgard's most beautiful place." Theo finally released me enough so I could touch the ground, though his romance kept me high.

Asgard's palace was so small from this new perspective, though it glimmered even in the dark. The mountains towered over everything, like giants protecting the land. And in a view I'd always dreamed of, the stars were completely breathtaking, though seeing them only made me think of someone else. Guilt for that fact made me falsely teary. "It's...it's lovely."

"I'm glad you think so." He kissed my cheek, holding contact for a few seconds before leaving my side to start a fire.

I stroked the horse to stay occupied, doing everything in my power to stay present and not let memories cloud our evening. The animal nudged me with his nose several times, reminding me of an oversized Tiwaz, playful and opinionated. It was a pleasure to touch his soft coat and breathe in the bucolic scent of hay in his mane. The smell of a simple life.

Faster than expected, Theo set the fire pit ablaze and cleared a spot on the soft ground for us to sit together. He and I both held our hands over the flames, unafraid of sparks or wild creatures—we were both formidable enough to defend ourselves. The only real threats were the chemistry between us and the privacy that meant we could get away with anything.

Theo waxed on about more of his battles. Some of the stories, I already knew. He was intelligent and kind, but didn't have the greatest memory for what tales he told to every person he met.

I put my hand on his thigh to make him stop. "Theo...can we talk about something else?"

"I...yes, of course." He swallowed hard, flushing red over his cheeks and nose. "Anything on your mind?"

"I'm just curious about what you think about the future instead of the past, that's all." I tapped my fingers on his canvas trousers.

"The future?" Theo put his hand over mine, pausing my motion. "Are you sure you really want to know?"

"I asked, didn't I?" Heat swelled between us. The energy of intimacy. Months of sitting at his side and hoping for more contact could culminate right here, under the blanket of night sky. But respecting his boundaries was the greatest gift I could give him, so I pulled back to move out of his space.

"Soon you will know how badly I've longed for you." Theo didn't meet my eyes—he reached for the pin in my hair and removed it, weaving through the locks around my temple. "That is the only future I can see. It would begin right here."

"Here?" I snickered, tickled by the light touch of his hand.

"Yes." He leaned in, tracing my ear with his nose, whispering things he'd never dared to say aloud. "On this ground, where you are now, we will be one. Your silky skin will meet my own. We'll join under the stars."

I sighed, biting my lower lip, grateful to have even the slightest taste of what I craved. Yet a beacon of reddish gold pulsed in the distance, calling my attention and taking me away.

No. Go away. I can't think about that. I clenched my eyes shut again and hoped for more. "What else?"

"Only a confession." Theo found my hands, lacing our fingers on both sides. "Sigyn, you've challenged and honored me. The pride I feel when you're at my side...it's unlike anything I've ever known."

"That's no confession," I said with a sarcastic grin. "Your emotions for me are poorly hidden."

"Are they?" He moved so his hands could cup my face on either side, which sent shocks up and down my spine. So close. "Open your eyes."

I did as he asked and stared firmly ahead, intent not to let Frigga sneak in. "Yes?"

"It may be obvious to all. It might be written on my face. But I won't risk a question over something so important." He drew ever near, mixing his breath with mine. "Sigyn, I love you."

My mind shrieked. Heart stopped. If I gasped, it was involuntary. "Theo—"

But I had no chance to respond as the soldier kissed me, crashing our lips together with ferocious appetite. He released and returned, over and over, yet never gave enough time in between to recalibrate our position. Theo was excited, but he was unskilled. Messy. Too eager.

Now what do I do?

He pulled back. "I'm sorry. I...I'm sorry." His panting proved how inexperienced he was, since we hadn't moved and he barely did anything. "Siggy, forgive me. It's not fair to tease you."

"It's alright." I returned a sweet smile, not sure what else I could say or do to comfort him. "All the more to look forward to."

He calmed and went back to telling his stories, and I didn't bother interrupting again. Instead, my mind wandered to how he might become the lover I'd always wanted—since I'd submitted so well to his training, it was worth having hope that I could train him, too.