Sigyn's hands trembled as she surveyed the foods she had set out for that night's dinner – nothing here would please Theoric, but it was the best she could do with the time she had. There were quite a number of bowls filled with leafy greens, all of it sustenance Sigyn thoroughly enjoyed but Theoric was bound to dislike. In her haste to leave that morning, Sigyn had not taken out the roast she was supposed to thaw, and instead had to make use of some of the leftover pheasant they had eaten the night before. It would still taste just as good, surely, but Sigyn knew Theoric would be highly unimpressed with the fact that he was eating almost the same dinner tonight as he had the night before.

It had been almost five days since she ordered Loki away, and at first she thought it made everything easier. She could work almost completely through the days without lengthy interruptions from the prince, and Idunn seemed happier that she could get her tasks completed. Thus far, the ridiculous wall of ivy had been the bane of her existence within the royal gardens, and she spent long hours up there plucking delicate berries from beneath white flowers. Unfortunately, without Loki there to whisk her away, she was more and more exhausted by the time she returned home. Her legs screamed all night as she cooked, cleaned, gardened, and somehow forced her aching body to please Theoric's.

Unfortunately, she had to turn him down twice as of late, as she was simply too tired to keep herself up on her hands and knees for him, and he seemed displeased at the thought. In fact, ever since she stopped seeing Loki around the gardens, it seemed everything she did in some way or another displeased Theoric. Meals were not adequate enough, the house had a few dusty corners, and she preferred not to think of the frustrated tone to his voice when she told him she was too tired for other nightly chores. He had yet to actually comment on it, but Sigyn could read him easily at this point; rather than outwardly express his anger, he did so through snide and sometimes hurtful comments until he settled down, and only then could Sigyn breathe again.

Although, he had been a little argumentative that morning, grumbling about the way Sigyn used up most of the hot water before he had a chance. Sigyn had tentatively offered her shower space with him, which he turned down without a second thought, and demanded instead that they switch and he used the shower first in the morning. She hardly saw the point: why shower when he would be sweaty and dusty in an hour or so at the arena? For a moment, she had tried to argue that, to throw something back against his words, but that only earned her a sharp look and a gruff order for a hot breakfast before he left. Normally, Theoric would take a cold one – which was far less work for her – and sometimes eat on his stroll to the arena. However, Sigyn then had to rush about downstairs and concoct something edible in the ten minutes that she heard her intended shower for. It was doable, yes, but the subsequent dishes to clean put her behind schedule, and she rushed out the door with a poorly polished helmet in order to not be late for Idunn.

The chaos that morning made her forget to defrost her roast, and she struggled for time after arriving home late from another day on that horrible wall. Sigyn knew she was doing the infirmary a grand favour by procuring the berries for them, but it was tedious and exhausting work, and she usually lost track of time when she was up there. Her escort rushed her home, assuring her that she was only a half hour later than usual, and then left her with a kind smile and a squeeze to her arm.

Unfortunately, that did nothing to soothe her, and Sigyn became clumsy in her haste to both clean and cook before Theoric arrived home. Thus far, she had tripped over a full bucket of water that was intended to mop the first floor of their home, and the contents soiled the rug at the front door – a gift from Theoric's aunt. After she hung a line outside to let the rug dry – hopefully before Theoric returned – and air out, Sigyn scrambled to both cook and clean the kitchen, slicing her finger while cutting some vegetables at one point. It wasn't a bad cut, but it did force her to stop and bandage it before her blood seeped onto Theoric's dinner. With more time lost, Sigyn was in a full-tilt panic as she sped through the remainder of the housework. Things had been so tense these last few days with Theoric, and she wanted to give him no reason to continue being angry with her once he returned; everything needed to be perfect, because she knew that she would have to tell him Idunn wanted her to finish the wall tomorrow, his one day off this week, and that she would be gone for almost all of it.

So, her initial plan to break the news gently over a fabulous dinner in a spotless house went out the window fairly quickly, and Sigyn hoped she could simply tell him and he would be understanding. For all the frustration he harboured, Sigyn knew there was the ability to reason within Theoric; surely he would listen to her logic, and then understand why the house was not perfect.

However, when she heard the front door slam shut, Sigyn still grimaced at the familiar sounds of Theoric removing his traveling gear. She ducked down and removed the leftover pheasant from the heat, poking it gently with a knife in the hopes that steam would filter out, and then hastily began throwing vegetables into a single wooden bowl. Afterward, she crossed the kitchen to grab a set of plates, wiping her wet hands on the skirt of her dirty pink dress as she moved, and then paused when she heard Theoric enter the room. Sigyn forced a smile, one that she was sure reached all the way up to her eyes, but then swallowed thickly when he did not return it.

"The front room is a disaster," he told her.

"I… I haven't gotten around to that yet," Sigyn said as he began a circuit around the kitchen. "I was a little late getting home today-"

"There's a surprise," he muttered, running the tips of his fingers along the window ledge over the counter and wrinkling his nose at the results. "You are letting this house stew in such a state."

"Not purposefully…" she murmured as she gathered up two plates and a pair of cups. She heard Theoric give a barking laugh.

"Of course not purposefully, but it is happening all the same."

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and then set the dishware on the nearby table, carefully lining everything up; at least her presentation would look acceptable. A silence befell the pair as she cleared away from of the cutting boards and knives, setting them aside to be washed later, and then cleared her throat.

"Did you have a good day-"

"What is this?" Theoric spat. She looked back over her shoulder quickly to see him dangling a side of pheasant between two fingers, "Did I not just eat this last night?"

"We had some left over," she told him carefully, hands wringing together as she nodded toward at it. "It will taste just as good-"

"It barely tasted anything close to good when I ate it the first time," Theoric remarked before tossing the meat back down on the plate, shaking his head at it. Sigyn bit her lower lip to keep it from quivering; part of her wanted to crack already, let him see that he had won before he started. The other, however, wanted to remind him that he did enjoy the pheasant last night, and had even asked for a second helping. "Am I asking too much of you?"

"No," Sigyn said quickly, eyes wide when he glared at her. "No, I'm sorry! It's my fault for not watching the time-"

"I knew you would not be able to handle working somewhere else and your responsibilities in this home," he spat. She watched him stalk to the table and wrench out a chair, throwing himself down in it and pushing the salad bowl away. For a few moments, she simply watched him seethe, and then took a hesitant step forward, placing her hands on the back of the chair at the opposite end of the table.

"Is there… Is there something I've done to upset you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know the housework is lax today, and… and it's my fault to have not taken out the roast I planned for dinner, but… is there something else?"

"Felix tells me," Theoric began, his gaze hard when he finally looked up at her, "that every time he sees you around the palace, you are in the company of Prince Loki."

She felt her cheeks pale under his gaze, and she tried to control her breathing as she formulated the best response she could, "He treats me to lunch sometimes."

"Why?"

"I don't know," she lied, her voice quivering. "We get along. I think he's lonely-"

"Have you been pestering him?" Theoric snapped as he pushed himself up, the chair legs shuddering against the floor. "You had better not embarrass me in front of the royal family, Sigyn-"

"No, no, I wouldn't," she said hastily in an attempt to reassure him. Her jaw opened and closed a few times, and Theoric scoffed angrily before marching out of the room. It wasn't until she was also out of the kitchen and on his heels that she realized it might have been better to give him space. "I promise that I only sing your praises."

"I'm sure you sound like an eloquent blithering little woman," Theoric sneered, turning back to her so sharply that she nearly stumbled into him. "You don't need to talk about me to make a fool of me."

"I'm on my best behaviour-"

"There are rumours, according to Felix, among the guards that he takes you to bed," Theoric spat, and Sigyn flinched away when his hand flew across the air in frustration. It hadn't been directed at her, but rather the air in general, but she still moved herself to a safer distance. "Is that true?"

"You know it isn't!" It came out almost as a wail, an unattractive one at that, and she could tell Theoric thought so too by the way he stared down at her. However, she relaxed a little when he rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I know not to believe every rumour the staff concocts of the tidings in the palace," he sniped. "I don't want you to see him anymore."

"I don't," Sigyn said firmly, eyes watering as she hurried after him again. "I told him we shouldn't see one another anymore, as he is distracting from work-"

"You said that to a prince?" Theoric demanded softly, his back to her, a hand on the railing beside the stairs. "You told him that he was distracting?"

"W-Well, yes," she mumbled, "he kept taking me for long lunches-"

"You see, even without mentioning me, you've embarrassed me," he told her coldly, his eyes narrowed when he looked back at her. "I shall have to go make apologies now on your behalf so that, by some chance happening, I won't find myself demoted."

"I told him a week ago," Sigyn insisted. "Nothing had has happened-"

"Do not speak to him anymore," Theoric snapped. "If you cannot reason like an intelligent being, stay silent and spare my reputation."

"Theoric…"

"Make up a plate and set it aside," he told her as he started up the stairs. "I'll eat it when I can stomach the thought."

"Theoric, please," she tried again, this time grasping his arm. However, as soon as she touched him, he pushed back suddenly enough to knock her off balance. Her elbow crunched against the railing as she went down, and Sigyn only just managed to stop her head from hitting the floor. The impact of it made her cry out weakly, and she shuffled away when Theoric stepped down the stairs; she wasn't sure if he might try to help, or possibly harm her for a second. He stood over her instead, and then stalked off toward the kitchen.

Alone in the dim hall before the stairs, she eased up into a seated position, rubbing her hands along her sore arms and back, all of which had taken the brunt of the fall. She looked up when she heard her intended march toward the front door, and she noticed he had one of slices of pheasant in hand. She covered her mouth quickly to keep in her sob when he slammed the door for a second time that evening.

When silence settled over the small house, Sigyn finally rose to her feet, still shaking. Everything had happened so quickly, and the whole altercation could not have lasted more than ten minutes at best. However, Theoric was so cross with her, so frustrated, and the explosion had surely come from his pent-up anger; he could not have been that angry with her that he would shove her over some housework. That did not make her feel much better, unfortunately, but Sigyn thought it easiest to reason through the anger rather than take it without another thought.

It took her a little while to get mobile again, but she eventually scuttled through the house and wound up back in the kitchen. Standing there amongst the cooling pheasant and forgotten vegetables, Sigyn felt exhausted. With Theoric gone, the adrenaline faded, and her limbs felt heavy as she propelled onward. First, she made a plate for him, despite the fact he had already taken his share of meat, and then covered it to retain the heat. From there, she stood numbly at the sink and proceeded to rinse off the unused dishes, pausing every so often to wipe her nose.

Once the kitchen was spotless, not a trace of the offending meal present, Sigyn moved onto the rest of the house, silently scrubbing everything until she physically couldn't carry her bucket anymore. By the end of it all, she was upstairs and seated on the edge of her freshly made bed, the corners crisp and the pillows lined up to perfectly. Her hands sat limply in her lap, and as the sun set and the room darkened, she simply stared at various spots on the floor until she forced herself to ignite a lamp. Even then, she continued to sit there, unable to do much else.

Theoric eventually returned, but Sigyn locked herself in the bathroom when she heard him slowly march up the stairs. She sat on the rim of her bathtub for some time, staring now at the bright and perfectly polished floor tile rather than the one out in her bedroom. She couldn't think of anything in particular; whenever she did, she felt her eyes welling up, so it was best to leave everything blank. However, when she heard Theoric knocking things around in the closet louder than he normally would, she decided it was time to come out with the plan to sneak by and work in the garden until he fell asleep. She turned the knob quietly, and then slipped out of the bathroom, only to find herself nearly waltzing into her intended.

He still looked irritated with her, and when he reached for her arm, Sigyn flinched away, recoiling back to the wall. She regretted it almost immediately when his eyes narrowed, and then let out a small puff of air when he turned away.

"You… You shouldn't…"

Her fingers knotted around each other as she waited, tears already starting to form.

"You shouldn't be so careless," Theoric managed to get out, and Sigyn's eyes widened when he looked back at her. "You can be so clumsy sometimes… Pay attention so you don't… don't hurt yourself."

It took her a moment to actually register with what he was saying, and when she realized, she nodded quickly under his gaze, "I know. I'm sorry."

They stared at one another, until finally Theoric barricaded himself in the bathroom, locking the door noisily behind him. It was hardly an issue about where Sigyn would rather be, and she hurried downstairs and into the back garden without another word.

However, once she was outside beneath the stars, she couldn't even bring herself to garden; she felt horribly guilty. She had driven Theoric to frustration, and then touched him in the heat of an argument – he was not a man who liked to be touched, unless he wanted to make a point in public. Little touches were acceptable when they were intimate, but she should have known he would react by lashing out, especially when he was as angry with her as he was. In a way, she had brought the shove on herself, and she had no one to blame but herself. The bruises that would surely form along the sore parts of her body tomorrow would be her fault. If she had managed her time better, none of this would have happened. If she hadn't been late, they could have enjoyed a wonderful meal together, and then possibly relaxed in front of the fire.

But no. She had ruined their night before it even started.

Sigyn ran a finger under her eye and sniffled, then settled down in front of her vegetable garden. Before she knew it, she was on her back, hands resting on her stomach and eyes wandering the stars. Shortly after, she was asleep.

Loki stood at the entrance of the royal gardens, fiddling with a clasp on his armour as his unfocused stare wandered the vast hall before him. He had come to that doorway every day since Sigyn ordered him away, but for the sake of her feelings he had not entered the hall. She wanted him gone. She wanted the distractions he brought to leave, and so he followed her command to show that he could be respectful. However, it had been almost a week now – well, five days – and he couldn't stand to let her think he had completely abandoned her. Other men may have been frightened off by the prospect of a challenge, but with nothing else to occupy his time, Loki could no longer be one of those men.

So, throwing caution to the wind, he entered the realm of flora with his head held high and pointedly ignored the look Idunn shot him as he passed. He marched along the long rows of greenhouses, stopping at each one to see if Sigyn was inside, and when he found her in none of them, he slowly drifted back to that dreadful wall of ivy vines that had started this mess. It was there that he found her, clambering down the ladder with a bag strung across her slim frame. He wanted to smile when he saw her, as her very appearance had the ability to brighten his mood, but he kept his features decidedly cool as she stepped off the ladder. Instead, he noticed the tips of her fingers were bright red, supposedly from the juice of those infernal berries, and he allowed a smirk to slip by.

"It's a messy deed, is it not?"

Sigyn glanced back quickly, momentarily startled by his presence, and then raised her eyebrows curiously. She looked lovely in blue today. Loki took a step forward, nodding down to her hands, "You seem to have made quite the mess."

She looked down at her hands silently, and then swallowed thickly. It seemed as though she was in no mood for games today, more so than usual, and he decided he ought to smooth their quarrel over quickly so that he could see her smile again.

"Sigyn," he started, resisting his desire to take her stained hands in his to keep her focus, "I'm so sorry for-"

Before he could finish, she sobbed noisily, a hand flying up to cover her mouth as she turned away. Loki stared at her back, stunned, and listened to her cry for perhaps a minute or so before he stepped forward. He was perfectly aware of Sigyn's fragility, but he had not thought it to be this sudden. Unsure of what he should do to halt the tears, he simply placed a hand on her back, and before he knew it, she had curled into him, clutching at the front of his shirt tightly with her small fists. He remained stunned for only a moment, and then wrapped his arms around her.

"Please forgive me," she hiccupped, looking up at him with glossy eyes and red cheeks. "I… I… He doesn't know how to be kind sometimes. He tries desperately, but he just doesn't know…"

"I don't understand," Loki murmured, gently taking her wrists and pulling them from him in an attempt to see her better. However, as he did so, her loose sleeves rolled down, and he caught sight of several dark bruises along her arms. "What is this?"

"It was an accident-"

His grip tightened on her, enraged at the thought of violence toward the woman who made his imprisonment in Asgard tolerable, but quickly relaxed when he saw the panicked look in her eye. She pulled her arms in to her chest, hiding the ugly colouring with her sleeves.

"Sigyn," he said firmly, cupping her now by the chin and holding her gaze, "you must not go home. You will stay here until alternate arrangements can be made."

"He didn't mean to," she told him, her voice shaking as the tips of her fingers tentatively touched his wrist.

"This is the start of what will haunt your marriage," he argued earnestly, trying hard not to come across as condescending as he spoke to her. "It will worsen once you are his wife."

"But he only pushed me… I slipped and fell. He's never struck me before-"

"I will tell you this," Loki said firmly, shaking her head a little. "You need not strike a person to scar them. Words are sometimes enough… You cannot tell me he only speaks to you lovingly."

"No man does."

"Then you do not know a true man," he whispered heatedly, licking his lips and sighing as a fresh batch of tears rolled down her cheeks. "Please, for my sake, stay in the palace. You may stay as far from me as you like, but do not return to him after this."

"I must," she murmured weakly. "I am promised to… to him."

"Yes, but there is no set time to fulfill a promise," Loki reasoned, a plan formulating in his mind. It was so clear now how he could take her once and for all, and it would require very little effort. "Why not take some time? Postpone the wedding until you are both truly happy with one another…"

"He will never agree to that."

"I am sure he is a man of… reason," Loki managed, allowing her to remove his hands from her face so that she could step away. He could be quite overpowering when he was in a mood. "Surely he will agree that your tears do not signal the start of a happy marriage."

"I suppose so…"

"Allow me to help," Loki offered, his hands clasped behind his back when she looked back at him sharply. "I may not be able to take you for myself, but I cannot stand the thought of you being so horribly miserable. My intentions are pure, I promise."

"How can you help?" she asked, eyebrows knitted as she swiped a finger under both eyes. "He has forbidden me to speak to you… He thinks I am embarrassing him."

"Of course he does."

"I think it best that I try to fix this," she told him, tugging her sleeves down once more when his gaze wandered to her arms. "I am not innocent in his behaviour."

"No, no, we both know nothing will happen should you try," Loki reasoned gently, his tone soft, as though soothing a troubled child. "Let me help. Let me… try. If we could simply separate the two of you, perhaps until the wedding, you may both gain the much needed perspective."

"I suppose that seems sensible," she murmured after a moment or so, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ears with her bright red fingertips. "But how shall we be separated? I have no family anymore, and I cannot waste space here."

"I shall find you another temporary home to wait out the storm," Loki promised, his mind split in its focus. Half of it worked very hard to keep his voice calm and his body language relaxed, while the other half went through dozens of ways he could separate Sigyn from her intended now that she was compliant; none of those ways ended particularly well for Theoric. "Relax for today… I shall see to everything, I promise. I only want what is best for you."

She flashed him a small smile, one that did not quite reach her eyes, but one that he would savour for the rest of the afternoon.

"You are far too kind to me," she remarked softly. He nodded.

"I know." He then crossed the distance between them and removed the cloth bag from her, settling it gently aside before taking her by the elbow, "Dine with me again? I've been so terribly lonely."

He faltered at the sound of the truth, but grinned when she agreed and let him lead her away from the gardens.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

They are limited tonight, my notes. Just moooving the plot right along. I think, however, I will take a moment to describe how I see Theoric, because he won't get a POV at all in this story. I see him as a perfectionist. I see him with mild OCD tendencies about cleanliness and routine – hence his frustration when, suddenly, Sigyn is no longer home when she should be on his days off. I see him as a guy who struggles to find the right words, and would rather lash out than bring someone in. I see him as a guy who has a lot of his own issues that he needs to sort out before engaging in an adult, mature, healthy relationship with anyone.

That's just my version. I found the actual comic strip today about Sigyn and Loki's marriage, and in the background all of the women keep wondering why Sigyn would marry Theoric anyway because, apparently, he's super, super boring. So, there we have it – at least my guy isn't boring.

Also, Loki totally thinks he has this in the bag. Wrong.

Much love to my reviewers! You are few and far between, but all the love and support I get is wonderful all the same!