Sigyn's head reeled from the events of the day. It had started so stressful, so hectic with her tardiness and Theoric's reprimands, and then it developed into something different, something she had never expected.

Just about everyone who had any relation to the palace knew that the black prince of Asgard, Loki, had returned from his trials on Midgard. He wasn't seen often in the first few months, but everyone knew that the All-Father dictated his every move upon his return to their realm. Lately, she had heard Theoric mention Loki's marches through the city streets, but aside from that, it was her own memory of him that made her recognize him earlier in the day. When she was a girl, she met a teenage version of Loki at a festival in the palace; it was her first time accompanying her father on such an occasion, and she had been a complete bundle of nerves for the entire evening. Loki hadn't so much as glanced at her, but she still found him attractive from a safe distance.

From then on out, the only time Sigyn ever saw Loki was at other public events, or occasionally out in the city with his brother. They had never actually exchanged any sort of formal greeting, but she always found herself smiling when she spied him. He wasn't pompous or boisterous like Thor had been in his youth, and for that reason alone she found him appealing. There was that and the physicality aspect; dark features were certainly not common in their realm of bright hair and light eyes, and she had always wondered where the younger prince earned his darkness. It had always seemed so foreign when he stood next to the rest of his family, and she thought it made him unique and interesting. However, all of those feelings, those thoughts, and those fantasies were pushed to the back of her mind with ease; the likelihood of them meeting again had seemed too rare that her small affection for the man seemed like a childish dream and nothing more.

And yet, there he was that day, standing over her after she had taken a tumble on the walk home. Initially, she had thought she was concussed and seeing things, but then he spoke to her, reached out for her hand, and she realized this was no longer a fantasy. He stared at her directly, spoke to her as though they were familiar enough, and it all made her heart flutter uncontrollably. Unfortunately, the excitement quickly turned to shame and guilt, and Sigyn worked very hard to get out of the situation as fast as possible.

She was engaged to Theoric. In a way, they were basically already married; they had been living together, intimate together, and their families seemed united for almost two years at this point. It certainly wasn't proper for her to feel excitement in the presence of another man, nor was it polite that she acknowledged the small size of her engagement ring to someone else. She had put Theoric down in front of another, and that certainly wasn't right: loyalty above all else, and that afternoon's event had made Sigyn disloyal to the man who was to be her partner for life. Even if he had been cross with her – and rightly so, as she had been quite late – there was no excuse to put him down or make jokes at his expense.

So, she opted not to visit his mother like Theoric suggested, and instead went straight home to get started on dinner. She knew he liked her food; the only reason he had been cruel to her that morning was because he was angry. If they had been detained at the arena for something that did not involve Sigyn, that meant he had already been frustrated before she arrived, and since he couldn't take it out on the other Hawks, she was a likely target. It wasn't fair that he thought that way, but if Sigyn wanted to be a good wife, she knew she would have to give him everything; if he needed a person to vent his anger on in order to do his job better, she would take that position as long as it never came to physical blows.

She managed to produce an exquisite rack of meat for her intended, filling the house with the tangy aroma of the sauce he adored, along with some greens to keep the meal healthy. While her meat roasted for the majority of the afternoon, Sigyn went to work on cleaning their entire house. It wasn't necessarily a large house by any means; all of the military homes looked the same. Each house had a domed roof with two storeys; the second storey consisted only of a bedroom and an en-suite lavatory, while the bottom had a small kitchen that led into an eatery, a small room that could be a guest bedroom or a child's room, and a small patio for the back garden.

Theoric was incredibly unforgiving when it came to the cleanliness of their house, and she suspected that came from his mother's extremely meticulous example that he grew up with. Therefore, Sigyn usually needed to do a full clean of the house once every two days, and it generally took her all morning to get it done. When he came home from work on the days that she cleaned, Theoric did a thorough walk-through of the entire house, commenting on something she could have done better or occasionally praising her for a job well done. Some women complained about cleaning their home, or even hired outside help, but Sigyn simply saw it as another one of her duties that she ought to do as the man's future wife. It was routine at this point, and she knew precisely how long it took to get through each room.

While Theoric may have been obsessive about the house's cleanliness, Sigyn could say that she was the same regarding the front and back gardens. She absolutely adored spending time amongst the exotic plants; she was never one to brag, but she had the best kept garden on the entire street. She grew herbs, trees and shrubs in the back, just as her father had done, and gorgeous, bright, beautiful flowers in the front that required more work and were a little showy, but certainly garnered the most praise from her neighbours. So, if she had to spend the day inside to make Theoric happy in order to get the chance to spend her nights under the stars in her gardens, it was all worth it. It was the one place where her intended never criticized her: her safe haven.

Theoric returned that night at the same time as always; a half hour after sunset. It coincided with the changing of the Crimson Hawk guard at the palace, and as usual, he strolled into their home and waited for Sigyn to help him remove his armour. The earlier annoyance seemed to have disappeared, but she assumed that was because he had come home to a spotlessly clean house and the scent of one of his favourite dishes permeating from the kitchen. He even kissed her once they had shed all of his red armour, and she hoped that this was something they could keep up for the rest of the night.

She assumed he enjoyed his meal. Most of the conversation had been light, but there had been no criticisms thus far, which meant it was a hit. When they finished, she cleared the dishes away and fetched him a copy of the newspaper. As she did the dishes, he read at the table with a glass of wine at his side. The small fire in the nearby hearth illuminated what the setting sun did not, and when Sigyn had finished drying the last of their plates, she stood in the doorway of the dining room, arms folded across her chest, eyes resting on Theoric.

He finally glanced up, a pair of blue eyes meeting hers, and then beckoned her closer with a nod of his head. Her stomach knotted as she approached, and she knew that his invitation meant she wasn't going to be going to the garden straight away tonight. She stood beside his chair, and he grasped her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss the finger with his engagement ring. She smiled weakly when he looked up, disliking the way her thoughts drifted back to Loki and his comment on the size of the ring.

It shouldn't be the size that matters – it was the symbolism behind it.

Taking her own initiative this time, she settled down on his lap, her hands now resting against his firm chest, and then nibbled her lower lip. Eyes drifted back and forth between his and his lips, and she waited for him to kiss her. She might take some kinds of initiatives, but there were other duties that ought to be left up to the man. When he finally did kiss her, his thin lips pressed up to hers lightly, she sighed a happy sigh; there would be no fights tonight. Her hands snaked up his neck to cup his face, a gesture she had seen other women do when they kissed their husbands, and she felt his arms curve around her slim waist.

She loved kissing him. Whether it was soft and slow, as it always was when they started, or heated and passionate, as it was just before they hurdled along into the main event, Sigyn always felt her desire for Theoric swell when she kissed him. Her long legs dangled over the arm of his chair, and she wanted nothing more than to bring them up and straddle him, but there was simply no room to do so. Instead, as she continued to match the pace of his kisses, her breathing growing heavy, her hands now wandered down to his trousers. As always, there was the sign of his excitement lurking just beneath, and she ran a finger along the hardened organ, hoping to draw a groan or moan from the man. Instead, he seemed not to notice, and her eyes widened a little when he gripped her behind firmly, his eyes closed.

So, she took it upon herself to pull the waistband of his trousers forward, and then slid her spare hand inside. All she wanted was to make him happy, but as usual, he stiffened and broke the kiss, wrenching her hands away from him. There needn't be any words said between them; Sigyn knew exactly what the look he gave her meant.

We don't do that here. We eat here.

They never did that anywhere. Unless she was on her knees for him, which only happened occasionally, Sigyn barely saw what was hidden beneath his trousers unless she was proactive about it. He nudged her off him by the small of her back, and Sigyn hastily straightened out her dress as he pushed the chair back to join her. She could feel evidence of her own arousal faintly, but she knew that as he tugged her toward the staircase that this would probably be the end of what she enjoyed the most about their intimacy.

He shut the door to their bedroom behind him, as though someone downstairs might hear the few sounds they made when they were alone together. Sigyn certainly didn't need to be told what he wanted from her; just as cleaning their house was a routine she could do in her sleep, this portion of their lovemaking was also remarkably routine. She climbed onto their four-poster bed, and while she would have preferred to clutch the headboard for this, he slipped his hands around her legs and hauled her back to the edge of the bed. Sigyn swallowed thickly, trying to keep her breathing even; there was some excitement, some anticipation, for what was to come, but she wished the brief flicker of passion they had for one another when they kissed carried over here.

She felt him slide the thin fabric of her dress up and over her hips, and then pull her undergarments down and out of the way. The sound of him spitting on his hand was incredibly familiar to her at this point, and she flinched when he ran it between her legs, inhaling sharply when he skimmed a sensitive spot, a pleasurable spot. She wished her would linger for just a moment, but this wasn't about her; a wife should satisfy her husband first, and herself second. This routine was so short that she certainly didn't have time to properly please herself, but she was always satisfied with the manner in which she pleased Theoric; that came with a feeling of accomplishment because she knew no one else could give him what he wanted.

Despite her best efforts not to, Sigyn cried out when he glided himself into her, and she winced at the sharpness of his thrusts. She hadn't been quite ready for him, but the pain was only temporary, and her hands clutched at the sheets as he continued to take her from behind. The tips of his fingers dug into her hips, and she could hear the bed creaking under their movements. Occasionally, he hit a spot inside her that made her gasp, but then it was gone as though it had never been there at all. She whimpered a little when he grabbed a fistful of her hair, his pace becoming erratic behind her, and he finally pulled out to finish on the cool flesh of her back.

They couldn't have any pregnancies before the wedding, so every single time he either finished on her back or in her mouth, depending on his mood. Sigyn could understand and appreciate the logic, but it was still a slightly unsatisfying way to end their physical intimacy. He gave her quivering leg a pat as he moved to the side in order to lie back against their plush bed. His breathing was heavy, ragged, and she could see a twinge of sweat on his forehead.

He would definitely need a shower; cleanliness not only extended to the state of his house, but also his physical person. The reason they were always in this position was because Theoric found they were the least messy after the finale; there was no sweat transfer between their bodies, no spit lingering from "sloppy kissing". Aside from the mess on her back, they were both still fairly clean, despite what they had done.

Sigyn sat up just enough to slide her light pink dress over her head, and she wrinkled her nose at the stain he had made on the fabric. The dress wasn't ruined, but she would need to get it in some water soon or the stain would be harder to get out. As Theoric crawled back onto the bed, his usual sleepy gaze settling in, Sigyn carefully climbed off and jogged to their bathroom, hating the feel of dripping evidence of their act moving down her behind and onto her legs. Not wanting any of it to get on the floor, she quickly jumped into the bathtub, pulled the curtain along it, and turned on the showerhead above her.

Cold water bit at her flesh immediately, and she huddled at the far side of the tub until it finally warmed to a decent temperature. First thing she did was cover her usual cloth in some liquid soap to attend to the mess on her back. With that taken care of, she moved on to rinsing down the rest of her body, followed shortly by her hair. She turned to face the stream of water, eyes closed as it ran over her face. Her body was slowly returning back to normal from its state of previous arousal, and she knew that while she may not have felt satisfied tonight, one day it would be her turn; Sigyn knew she could be patient.

She held up a hand to shield her eyes from the water, and when she opened them, she was staring directly at her engagement ring. Loki's voice echoed in her head once more, and despite herself, she turned her back to the showerhead and then pulled her ring off her hand to examine it. Was it too small? She had seen bigger rings on other women, but she assumed that those were the ones presented during the actual wedding ceremony. They weren't struggling for money, just as Loki had hinted at, so why hadn't he gotten her a nicer one?

Mind you, Sigyn did enjoy simplicity. It was merely a small gold band with two white stones in the center, and it really ought to be all she needed. She nodded her head, reaffirming it more to herself than anyone, and then gasped when a stray stream of water knocked the piece from her slippery fingers. It fell to the floor of the tub, and was immediately swept away in the downward flow toward the drain. She dropped to her knees to try to save it, but she just missed it as it careened over the edge and disappeared from sight. Her jaw dropped, and she stuck her slim fingers down to see if it caught on anything. Instead, her digits were met with the slimy gunk that lurked within the drain and some hair, but no ring.

What had she done? Panic set in, and she felt her eyes well up furiously. How could she be so stupid? Normally she took her engagement ring off to shower, fearful of this very thing; where was her head today?

She sat on the floor of the tub for some time, barely feeling the streams of water as they pummeled her flesh. What were her options? Theoric would be furious with her for losing the ring – that much was obvious. She could pretend nothing had happened and hope to find a replacement before he noticed it was missing. She could also make up some story that she had been mugged on the way to the training grounds… No, he might be furious with her tonight for the loss of her ring, but he would be angry for days if he discovered she had willingly lied to him about it.

So, she slowly turned off the water and spent a long time in the bathroom afterward. Sigyn took her time drying herself off, adding lotions to her skin, brushing her teeth and hair. When there was absolutely nothing left for her to do, nothing left to procrastinate with, she wrapped a towel around her body and sauntered out into the bedroom. Theoric was still sprawled across the bed, an arm over his face, but his breathing wasn't rhythmic enough to be asleep.

"What were you doing in there?" he asked lightly as he sat up. "You were in there for hours."

"Theoric," she said weakly, her voice wobbling as she spoke. "I… I…"

His eyes narrowed, "What?"

She approached the bed and held up her hand for him to see, showing off the empty finger, "I lost it in the shower. It went down the drain."

"Are you joking?" he snapped sharply, and she backed up as he scooted off the bed. He then grabbed her hand to examine it, and tossed it aside, "Sigyn, how could you be so stupid?"

"I'm sorry!"

"You know you shouldn't wear your jewelry in the shower!"

"I forgot," she said pathetically, her eyes watering up.

"You forgot?" Theoric repeated, throwing his hands up in the air and groaning, "Full of excuses today, aren't you?"

She stayed silent, fully aware that if she said anything else, it would only add fuel to his fire. He shook his head at her one last time before storming off toward the bathroom.

"I'm not buying you another one," he spat. "You can wait until we marry to have another ring."

The door slammed noisily behind him, and Sigyn quickly brushed the tears away. Taking a deep breath, she dressed in a loose nightgown, and then wrapped a housecoat around her. She could hear the water running in the bathroom, and rather than wait for him to come out in a mood, she disappeared down to the back garden. Once there, she sat on a bench beneath her favourite tree, head in her hands.

What was the matter with her today?

Loki pushed the last bits of his dinner around his plate, arranging it in one large pile. He then scooped it into his mouth, chewing softly to enjoy the last of the flavours. He heard Thor sigh across the table, a bored sigh that Loki knew well, and he glanced up at the man. Neither of them were thrilled with the 'family' dinner that night, as their 'parents' had spent the entire time planning their annual dinner for Asgard's armies as though the princes were absent. Loki had the ability to tune out the conversation, but Thor still seemed to be unable to entertain himself in his head, and he looked close to falling asleep as he stared down at his plate.

Naturally, Frigga took charge of this specific event, and therefore had done most of the talking tonight; it involved a great deal of coordination, this gala, but she had been doing it for so many years now that it should have simply happened in her sleep. Every year for as long as Loki could remember, Odin celebrated the hardworking members of Asgard's forces by throwing a massive banquet in the grand hall of the palace. Every single person, given that they were not on duty, could attend no matter their rank in society. It was an evening of feasting, speeches, stories, dances, and drinking. Families were asked to come along, and it was usual the talk of the social scene once it was finished.

Loki had no desire to participate in social functions anymore, and thus far neither Odin nor Frigga had even asked him if he wanted to bring someone or what he would wear; they assumed he would lock himself up in his room as always. Thor would, of course, bring Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, and they were bound to have a grand time off by themselves. Odin had his generals and Frigga had their wives, and if Loki had been there, he was sure he would have the attention of everyone in the room for his first real public appearance in months. He would need to pretend they were still a family unit, despite his recent activities, and smile to the social elite just as he had always done.

There was nothing more in this world that he wanted to do less. However, as a servant cleared his plate, he caught a flash of a ring on her finger, and it triggered that day's events in his mind. A thought suddenly occurred to him, and he cleared his throat, sparking Thor from his bored stupor and cutting Frigga off mid-sentence.

"All-Father," he started, placing his hand on Frigga's to keep her quiet. She seemed pleased with the interaction, something she had been desperate for since he returned. "Are the Crimson Hawks invited?"

"To the military feast?" Odin clarified as he leaned back against his chair, studying Loki with his one good eye. "Not normally… They are not a part of the land, air, or sea squads."

"Yes, but they are militant in nature," Loki argued, giving Frigga's hand a little squeeze. "Wouldn't it be nice if they and their families were also honoured? They do so much for you throughout the year."

"Oh, what a nice idea," Frigga cooed, and he smiled a small smile at her as she patted their clutched hands. She then turned to Odin, "Yes, my love, I think that would be a wonderful surprise. We never do anything for your Hawks."

The All-Father seemed to contemplate the suggestion, and Loki gave Frigga's hand one last squeeze before he tugged it from her grasp. He then took a sip of his wine, eyebrows raising to challenge Thor's skeptical expression. However, while the man may have looked as though he believed Loki was up to something, he held his tongue until his parents retired, leaving only the two of them at the small, private dinner table.

"What are you playing at, Loki?"

"Me?" he asked, his eyes alight with mirth that Thor had, no doubt, not seen in quite some time. "I simply thought it would be beneficial to let the Hawks know how valued they are-"

"Have you ever spoken to a Hawk?" Thor inquired, resting his elbow on the table and leaning forward, "Their egos know they are valued by Odin."

"Funny words coming from you," Loki mused. Thor rolled his eyes a little.

"Does this mean you intend to make an appearance?"

"I never said that," he insisted, glancing down at Thor's mug of ale and shrugging. "It was only a suggestion."

His eye twitched at the exertion it took to hide a magical act in front of his annoyingly observant adopted brother, but he was quite sure he got away with it as Thor laughed.

"You never suggest anything unless there is an ulterior motive."

"Really, I'm hurt, Thor," Loki told him, shaking his head. "Don't you believe me rehabilitated? Haven't you seen my improvements this past year?"

The man quirked a blond eyebrow as Loki pulled his legs over the bench and stood up, "Regardless, I suppose you may have your own opinion. All I know is that I was helpful enough to make your mother smile while you slept in your mashed potatoes."

He heard the man sigh once more, followed by the sound of something hard hitting the table as Loki strolled toward the door.

"Loki!"

He glanced back to see that his magic had been successful at turning Thor's ale into a solid form, and he grinned a little, "Don't you see? We're almost back to normal!"

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

GhibliGirl91 posted a very insightful comment in her last review – Theoric can't just be a one-sided emotionally abusive jerk so that we feel like Loki's impending wrongdoing is justified. I agree 100%. I think people like this Theoric – I have no idea what he was like in the actual comic/myth, but he probably wasn't an asshole – have a lot of layers to them, and a lot of different sides to their personality. I'm looking forward to showing those off in the beginning of this story before he makes his mysterious disappearance.

I also wanted to make Sigyn a little sexual. I think that because she's a little broken, a little weak, that it would be easy to put her into the role of the sexual submissive. In a way, I think she is, but she's also proactive and ready to take things a little further, only to be rebuffed by Theoric.

And we know Loki has ulterior motives for the upcoming gala. We know it. Thor knows it. Loki knows it. Let's get this started!

Thank you for the lovely reviews, adds to favourites, and everything else. I really, really appreciate all the support!