(LOKI)

We made our arrival as Freyr said we would, after the second sunset of our journey. Looking east from the mountaintop, the stronghold beckoned below. The front gates were downhill from where we were, but from above, the whole city was visible—at its far eastern edge, a grand building shone like a castle. Torches lit every street, highlighting the many citizens who traveled through the open marketplace. Even from our perspective, loud laughter and rumbling music drifted over the air.

I searched with squinted eyes for any landmark that might be familiar. No trees. No grand stages like in Asgard. And certainly no cut of river where I swore there had been one as a child.

Where is it?

"Aye, go on then," one of the sorcerers egged me forward, pointing down the hill.

"Of course." I adjusted my seat on the horse and jogged its sides, ready to see the heart of Vanaheim for the first time without Mother. Some of the road had been vaguely familiar, but not etched in my mind enough for me to have found the city on my own. Sigyn and I never stood a chance without Freyr.

Not that he wanted me to make the trek. He avoided conversation with me at all costs. Stayed by Sigyn and Grid for the whole second day, lagging behind the caravan. Whatever he thought my plans were, he couldn't influence them one way or another.

I would have my revenge. I'd see Odin dead at my feet. My crown was waiting.

The sorcerers, while plenty powerful in their own right, lacked some of the showmanship that made my skills so impressive. I tired of the brown tunics of the people and covered myself in black leather to prove my authority and strength, maintaining the illusion all day without so much as a flicker of fault. Impressing them meant they would trust me implicitly. Trust would lead to loose lips about portals. And in return, I'd offer them a chance to overthrow Vanaheim's rival once and for all to claim the Bifrost and all Asgard's prestige.

Pluto would soon have what he wanted. To be safe, I avoided deep sleep and the white room of conduction; unless I had real information to give, his interrogations would do little but give me added stress. Staying calm would mean I'd be more productive at gathering allies.

Fortunately, Sigyn bought my lie that we would be forced apart for the length of our stay. It was only too easy. But I held no regret over being dishonest; like in Asgard when we met, I couldn't afford any distractions. She certainly qualified.

The wooden gates reached high above our heads, but they were open and welcoming. A single guardsman stood watch with a tall axe at his side.

"What brings ye to The Don City?" he asked, squinting at the sight of me.

"I am Loki, son of Frigga, and I've brought with me many men whom you may know." I dismounted the horse to greet him properly, fully aware that my height was more than a bit strange to his eyes. "Senator Freyr is also with us."

"Frigga? Freyr?" He fumbled a bit with his helmet before standing up straight. "Aye, proceed as you wish."

"Thank you." I nodded to my companions, all of whom could've overstepped me and made the announcement, but they didn't. Their allegiance steadily rose, as planned.

While they passed me on their way to the stables inside the city gates, I found Sigyn, Grid and Freyr as they brought up the back. My lover rose above them much like I did with the other men, and she commanded my attention without trying. She always did.

And yet...if her faithfulness wanes and she leaves for any reason, I'll lose my chance to plan for victory. A pang in my chest told me to hold still and wait for them.

Freyr trotted up first and dismounted, huffing at me with a sneer.

"Uncle, wait," I said, finding whatever meekness still existed within me. "Can you help me locate the lodging and whomever I need to speak to regarding our ceremony?"

He grunted with a nod and kept walking.

"Whoa," Sigyn said under her breath, visibly shaken atop her steed, pulling back on the reins even though the creature lurched forward.

"Easy there." I intercepted them and stroked the animal's velveteen white nose, charming it into relaxation. "You've earned some rest." I glanced up at Sigyn and offered my hand. "You have as well. May I help you down?"

"So kind of you." She groaned while swinging her leg over its back, losing her balance and falling into me. "Oh—"

"Careful." The weight of her softness in my arms was like a tangible memory that my body was still learning to recognize again. For a moment, Vanaheim was nowhere and everywhere at once. The cosmos centered around the blue of her eyes and the shake in my heart. She was magnetic, drawing me in with an invisible tether.

Her hands, tightly gripping my shoulders, squeezed with an invitation.

I leaned down to touch her lips, but the here and now yanked us apart.

"This way," Freyr yelled, brusquely interrupting our tenderness to appease my ask. "It's past nightfall, and we haven't much time."

"Right." I lifted her to be steady on her feet. "I must go with him now. Grid should know where to put you."

"I understand. Will I see you again before tomorrow?"

"Not likely." I felt the pang again but pushed it down. "There might be a chance I won't see you even then."

The disappointment creeping across her expression was painful even to me. She nodded, not asking for anything. Not even to finish the kiss that I started.

"Loki," Freyr snapped, both with his hand and his voice.

"Goodnight," I said, letting my gaze linger until Grid directed her toward the stables.

The pit of my stomach remained sickeningly empty. I clenched my right fist and skulked alongside Freyr, who walked with a tight and fast clip almost unnatural for his stature.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"The Court Hall. You saw it from atop the hill, surely."

"Was it the largest place?"

"Indeed. It functions to hold government engagements, though some select citizens of Vanaheim are married there. It's an honor to do so."

I grinned. "And it will be an honor for Vanaheim to host me there, no doubt."

"Oh, mind your pride." He halted his march forward to scowl in my direction. "And don't toy with me, Loki. With all you said yesterday, a blind man could see why you insisted on bringing Sigyn here. I should never have mentioned the river tradition, and here you are, ready and willing to exploit what we consider sacred for your own selfish aims."

I couldn't refute his nastiness and felt as if I were a child again. The strength I once had—a proverbial armor against insult and accusation—was all but completely missing. Where had it gone?

"Why drag that poor girl into this, hmm? What good do you think will come out of claiming false love for her?"

"False?" I yelled, slighted by his suggestion, but my body hurt the longer I considered the truths running under my actions. I calmed and cleared my throat. "That is not false, Uncle. I want her as my wife. Deserve her at my side. She knows what kind of man I am and doesn't fault me for it."

"I hope you're right, nephew. I hope you're right." He shook his head in more judgment before leading me further into the city, not bothering to greet the many men and women who called for his attention.

The citizens didn't recognize me; at least, if they did, they didn't say it aloud. I felt invisible and insignificant without my new band of followers. Freyr wasn't affectionate and grateful for my breathing body. He wasn't really family, was he? Alone, I was nothing. Had no worth, no prestige, no—

Stop it. None of that. I changed my focus from the people we passed and searched for landmarks instead. The odd tent or banner in the marketplace struck me with a sense of recognition, but nothing was as tall as I remembered. Nightfall also gave a different emotion to the area, unlike the bright green I adored as a child. Most everything was cast in shadow, and whatever wasn't flickered with orange in the torchlight. My ears were piqued for burbling sounds of water that would point to the river. Perhaps if I found it on my own, I would also learn how to rid myself of the guilt that lingered from all I'd done to shape my life into such circumstances.

Freyr took me though the center of a large courtyard, against a marble stone building of bright white. How I'd missed it from the vantage point above, I couldn't say, but it was like a beacon from the ground. The domed roof was distinctly different from the angular architecture of the homes on either side, and it appeared almost sticky with gloss, it shined so much.

"What is that?" I asked, unable to tear my eyes from it.

"The sacred fountains. Your prize," he said, not even trying to mask the contempt in his voice.

I answered his disdain with pure wonder. "I don't remember this."

"It was here. You simply didn't care to see it. Children are too young and new to worry about things they might control later. They simply live to learn. It's enough for them."

"But I didn't see it from above, either. How could anyone miss this?"

"It's cloaked. Not too unlike how you cloak yourself even now." He tugged at my false sleeve, which was too expertly crafted to falter with his touch, though we both knew the brown tunic beneath was the only genuine thing covering me. "The vault is open only to those who are worthy to enter. Peoples from all realms have come here seeking the river's power, so it must stay hidden from desperate eyes. That includes Vanir; some gather here to beg for second chances."

"Second chances?" I turned to him with a furrowed brow. "In what regard?"

He sighed. "To heed a warning they shouldn't have ignored. But the river can only show what may come—it has no power to undo, nor can it control how one uses their vision. It is only a guide."

I glanced at the building again, feeling smaller than before. Humbled by the power before me that was so staunchly protected. Anxiety rushed through my gut that I coughed away.

"Enough lingering." Freyr continued to the court hall, though our brief conversation tempered him a bit, and he stopped rushing. It gave me a chance to ruminate in all I'd seen in my vision of Asgard, and if there had perhaps been a sign to be wary that I hadn't realized. Nothing came to mind.

I've nothing to fear if I pay attention.

Once we arrived at the court hall, Freyr wasted no time trying to find the officiant, practically wandering the vast space without any purchase. It wasn't tall like Asgard's palace, so there were no stairs to climb, only endless hallways.

"Uncle, is it simply too late in the evening?"

"He's here. We communed earlier." Freyr grew impatient with the search, however, and called for him. "Aye, Hriedmar?"

"Who is this man? Need I be worried about loyalists of Odin?"

He scoffed. "You'll find nothing of the sort here, especially within these walls. Hriedmar!"

A quiet, steady voice answered behind us. "Calm yourself, dear Freyr."

We both twisted, nearly startling at his appearance.

"Forgive me. I'm tired from the journey." Freyr embraced him with a quick release, patting the old man's back heartily. "Have I missed anything of note?"

"Only that Regin has grown at least an arm's length taller than he was last you saw him."

Freyr chuckled, finally turning to introduce us. "My friend, this man is Loki, my nephew. He is of Asgard, son of my sister Frigga. Loki, this man is Hriedmar, and he's Vanaheim's second senator. He didn't expect to become a father again in his old age, but his son Regin arrived fifteen years ago by surprise."

"It certainly keeps me on my toes," Hriedmar said, stepping further into the light to examine me up close. "Son of Frigga...yet there's not a lick of Vanir in you."

I grumbled. "Where were you when I was a child?"

Freyr intercepted. "He is family, which is all that matters. His task is what's brought us to the city."

"I see. So you seek a binding?" Hriedmar asked.

"Binding?" I glanced at Freyr.

"Marriage, Loki. Here, souls are bound until the Ragnarok, everlasting only if both parties have survived."

Legends. Myths. Futures too far ahead to be concerned with. "Right—yes, Senator Hriedmar. I seek to be bound with another. Her name is Sigyn."

He smirked. "As Frigga's son in Asgard, that would make you a prince, would it not?"

A king. I'm a king, not a prince. But how could I argue with Freyr so close? "That's correct, I suppose—"

"Then Sigyn is to be your princess." He nodded to Freyr and me unironically, completely unaware how preposterous it sounded. "A grand occasion, I'd imagine. When are you hoping for?"

"A fortnight."

"So soon?" He chuckled, hiding some smug thought he wouldn't say. "Any particular reason for such a rush?"

"Only that I shouldn't have let this much time pass already." I stood up straighter, hoping Freyr would believe my purpose here was motivated by her, at least in part.

"Then a fortnight it shall be. A late morning ceremony perhaps, so that you might enjoy the sun as it shines through our hall."

"If that's best, yes." I put my hands behind my back, suddenly unable to hold still. "Is there anything else you need from me to put this underway? I'm afraid traveling has worn my faculties somewhat."

"Loki's been infirmed for several weeks. It would be best for him to find some rest," Freyr said, bringing our brief visit to a close.

"Of course. I'm glad you found me this evening so as not to shorten our window to plan even further. I trust you will be here again tomorrow to finalize any details?" Hriedmar stroked his white beard, which ended in a soft V over his collarbone. Age meant almost nothing to the Vanir and it couldn't be gauged through glances alone, but something about his manners and the glint of gray in his eyes told me he was much more advanced than Freyr, and therefore me. I was the adolescent amongst them.

"Yes. Now if it's all the same to you, I'll retire. Goodnight." I bowed slightly and made a fast exit, walking backward toward the only open door I could see down the deep hallway.

Freyr didn't try to stop me and neither did Hriedmar. Perhaps they stayed behind to tease me, but that wasn't important. Only one thing was. The sinking in my belly drove my feet.

The closer I came to the stables, the faster my heart pounded. I searched, turning my head side to side in hopes of finding one of the sorcerers we came with or even Grid. Wherever they went, it wasn't obvious enough for me to find it on my own.

No one stopped or called for me through the courtyard, the market, or the rows of homes stacked atop one another. The front gates and stables were all that remained, manned by the same person who greeted us when we arrived.

"Are ye looking for something, m'lord?" he asked, standing at attention when I approached.

"Yes. I need to know where the women who came in with us were housed. Do you know where they went?"

"Oh, sure. Glad I heard them when they left." He pointed past the stables at a dimly lit path to the west. "Follow the gutter that way, five tents down. Can't miss it."

"Thank you." I nodded as I left, charging forward with an unknown aim. Why did I have such a nag in my chest to find her now? Why did I doubt her endless loyalty when we were already here, days away from being bound as the Vanir said?

The soldier at the gate had done well with his directions, and I caught a glimpse of Grid through the open tent. She sat in a short chair hyperfocusing on some needlework, and I wondered if she had some gift for seeing in the dark since there were no candles or other lights to guide her.

"Excuse me," I said meekly, not wanting to startle her at all, "where's Sigyn?"

Grid popped her head up to me and hummed. "She's in the next tent over. Said she could barely keep her eyes open."

No—don't sleep yet. I didn't thank her when I turned to leave.

"Loki—" Grid called.

I paused; something in her tone was an admonishment. Not you, too. "Yes?"

"Take care how you speak to her," she said, standing to meet me in the doorway. "She's in a delicate state enough as it is."

Her words were a riddle I decoded instantly. Sigyn's already faltering. Already waning. Already looking for the fastest way out. The panic I felt when we first arrived amplified tenfold.

"I mean to correct my misdeeds," I said. "Harming her has never been my intent. Sigyn knows my heart. She's the only one who ever did."

Grid cocked her brow. "Is that right?"

"Yes. I'm aware of what I have and what's at stake. But thank you for your concern."

She gave me a closed-lip smile and went back to her chair, silently inviting me to continue with my task.

Sigyn's tent was darker than Grid's because the sheets holding it closed were drawn tightly together with small bows. I opted to untie them instead of announcing myself from the outside, worried she would be annoyed with me if I woke her that way. At least if I peered inside and found her sleeping, I could return in the morning having done no harm.

I entered silently, doing my best not to let too much light bleed in behind me. After a minute to let my eyes adjust, I found her on a small cot to my right. Surely she'd become used to sleeping in such places since we came to Vanaheim, but I was struck by how empty the tent was, and therefore how naked she must've felt here. The thick, tawny brown blanket that matched her tunic was substantial, but nothing like what she was used to in Asgard's palace, even as a servant.

Though she was turned away from me, she sighed and wrapped the blanket tighter around herself. Her movement spurred me to speak.

"Ginny," I whispered, kneeling at her side. "Are you awake enough to hear me?"

She shifted quickly to see me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." I found her in the dark and put my hand upon her cheek, soaking in her softness. "I wanted you to know that I met our officiant. He's the second senator here. Says you're to be my princess."

She snickered. "He doesn't know me yet."

"No, he doesn't." I laughed with her and felt the same magnetic pull from earlier—the one that was cut short and unfinished. She was wrapped up in my plans for greatness just as she was wrapped in her warm blanket, and I couldn't deny her even if I tried. "A fortnight from this day, you and I will bind together until Ragnarok or all eternity tears us apart."

She pressed her lips in a line, giving me little more in her expression than deep, endless eyes. "And this couldn't wait until morning?"

"No. Because I cannot sleep without this." I leaned and felt her breath against my lips before I pressed into them, making the world around us disappear.

I won't be a fool begging for second chances. Asgard and you are my aim for all time.

Sigyn took in a staggered breath, as if my kiss made her teary. "I see why you needed me."

"Do you?" I kissed her once more, forcefully, hungrily, only releasing when I remembered what I'd told her about our time here and the inconvenient, barren tent around us. Not appropriate for what I wished to do to her.

"Being here seems to have reverted you somewhat," she said after we finished, pushing me back a bit. "You did something similar when we first met—you're preoccupied with racing forces in your mind, then you come to me, starving for affection. Which man will meet me at that altar?"

Even I wasn't fully sure why my priorities flipped from one extreme to another, but her seeing through this aspect of my nature only proved her all the more worthy to help me contain it. I held my hands out and closed my eyes, dissolving the illusion of my leather ensemble and longer hair that I'd worn all day. Now I was nothing but a simple man, matching her in dress and status—not a prince, or a king, or a noble. Simply a man who wanted the woman at my side.

"This one, if you'll take him."

She smiled through a hum and reached forward to my tunic, pulling me closer for more. "Every day, I will. I love him."

"Oh, Ginny." I lingered with her bottom lip between mine. "Say it again."

"I...no," she said, tittering.

"What? Why not?" I swore even my teeth went numb when she said it, certain I'd already lost her, certain she was realms away despite being in front of me.

"Because if I have to wait a fortnight to have you in my bed, you have to wait a fortnight to hear me say those words."

I grumbled, but her game was playful, not vindictive. A way to tease me and pass the time.

"Now exit my tent, kind sir, or I shall have to tell my future husband that a man propositioned me in the middle of the night. He can be quite formidable when tainted with jealousy."

"Can he?" I felt a lift from the pit of my belly—the emptiness and guilt was much improved. A wise decision to come find her, as she was a balm to all my senses. "Very well, then. Goodnight, dearest Ginny. I...I cannot wait to make you my wife."

"And I wish for nothing more in a husband than the man before me now." She touched my cheek in her usual tender fashion. "Goodnight."

I left her where she was and found my own tent, committed to her and to my tasks for Pluto in equal measure, though now I could relax and focus on his work until our wedding day. She wasn't going anywhere.