Sigyn awoke in an unfamiliar place. The jolt between sleep and consciousness had been so sudden that she could feel her heart race in her chest, and she sat up in a panic, eyes wide and darting this way and that. The room was illuminated by a setting sun, though it was muted by red fabric drawn across the circular windows. As she blinked away her sleep, she suddenly remembered precisely where she was, and she leaned back against the wall upon which her small cot was set against with a heavy sigh.
They had arrived at the Trondheim Castle sometime that day, shrouded in rain and misery. Her body ached like it had never before, and should she ever ride a horse again, she vowed not to sit like a man; the pain in the joints of her hips was tremendous, not to mention the strain on her lower back. Although Loki had been able to catch a few little creatures on their march through the valley, nothing had enough meat on it to satisfy her hunger, and an empty belly did nothing to ease the discomfort in her entire being. Truth be told, once they arrived at their final destination, Sigyn could barely keep her eyes open, let alone communicate with her gracious hosts. One moment she was clinging to Loki, and the next a woman named Ira was sweeping her inside with a gaggle of well-dressed handmaidens.
Sigyn remembered her arrival in the bath hall, which seemed far more extravagant than anything she had ever seen, though she couldn't recall anything that Ira had said to her. The woman, who reminded Sigyn of a scrupulous little bird, seemed to chatter on about anything and everything that came to mind, and at the time, Sigyn had been in no place to offer coherent responses. She tried to smile as much as she could, though she was sure it seemed like an act. The hall itself was immense, perhaps even the size of Loki's bedroom in Asgard, and there were dozens of different tubs everywhere. She did recall hearing some of the different types: cold water, steaming water, bubbled water, salt water… The list went on forever. She also had some recollection of being seated on the cot she now found herself on, but then nothing after that.
"Oh, good evening, princess," came a sweet voice from the doorway, and Sigyn straightened at the sound. She spied a small brunette girl waiting there, towels in hand and a wide grin on her lips. "Did you sleep well?"
"I…" Sigyn trailed off as she smoothed her hair – she must have looked awful. "Yes, I think so."
Her body still hurt, but it was a dull pain now rather than the sharp jolts that had accompanied her movements on the horse.
"Mistress Ira says that I shouldn't let you sleep anymore," the girl insisted as she drifted into the hall, clad in a splendid pale pink garment, "or you won't sleep tonight. Are you ready for your bath?" She deposited her armful of fluffy towels next to a nearby tub. "Or would you rather have something to eat first?"
Both. She bit back her initial response as her gaze lingered on the tub, and without another word the servant began adding vials of oil to the water.
"How long have I slept?" Sigyn inquired, a hand pressed to the wall as she tried to ease herself off the cot. Her blanket slid down when she finally straightened, and she winced at the pain in her legs.
"Oh, only a few hours, princess." She also flinched at the title, unaccustomed to anything of that sort, but said nothing of it. After all, the girl was technically correct in assuming Sigyn was a royal; she was the wife of a prince, and seemed to have inherited the perks that went with it. "The prince is with Lord Tolvast in the parlor… They both seem in good spirits."
She swallowed thickly, and then offered a kind smile when the girl looked her way, wide-eyed and young. "Oh."
"How are you feeling?" The girl hurried to her side as she tried to take her first steps, and Sigyn leaned on her gratefully; it might take some time for her limbs to remember how to function. "The bath will take your pains away, princess."
Sigyn nodded weakly. "I'm unaccustomed to riding for so long…"
"We are out of the way, aren't we?" the girl laughed, one hand holding Sigyn's arm while the other guided her by her lower back. "At least you didn't have to walk… I always have to walk."
She shot the servant a horrified look, unable to imagine taking the journey by foot from Asgard to Trondheim, but the girl seemed quite oblivious to her shock.
Now that she was upright, she felt as though the pressure in her bladder was too uncomfortable to ignore, and sheepishly requested to use a chamber pot before she had her bath. The girl, perhaps only a few years younger than herself, showed no distaste to the request, and instead helped her toddle across the room to a walled off portion in which there were the facilities to relieve herself. Sigyn's cheeks blushed scarlet at the thought of the servant on the other side of a flimsy wall, listening and waiting patiently, but once again, the girl seemed unmoved by the awkwardness of the situation.
When she had finished, Sigyn felt limber enough to walk back to the bath on her own, and along the way she spied a new arrival to the hall. Ira, the mistress of the castle, looked more birdlike than Sigyn remembered: there were actual feathers woven into her elaborate updo, and the dark streaks in her hair reminded Sigyn of a beak. She was clearly unfamiliar with the fashion customs of the countryside, as she had never seen a woman in Asgardian society wear long-sleeves or don a bloated hooped skirt. The woman was all purples and blues and greens, right up to the extravagant colours on her eyelids, and Sigyn wondered if she had dolled herself up because of Loki's sudden appearance in her home.
"My lady," Sigyn said softly upon approach, taking a moment to offer some sort of respectable curtsey and ignoring the way her thighs ached. "Your kindness in our hour of need-"
"Oh, don't be silly," the woman laughed, waving a thin hand in Sigyn's general direction as she swooped down upon her. "It is our honour to receive you and your husband in our home, and my personal honour to see to your comfort."
The woman then kissed the top of her hand, lips cold and fingers clammy, and rose with a gracious smile.
"Thank you." It was all Sigyn could muster in the face of such obvious delight; it seemed to thrill Mistress Ira that she had "royalty" in her home, and Sigyn wondered how often the Tolvasts were invited to Odin's court. Had they been regulars, perhaps there would be less devotion to Sigyn's care. After all, how many noblewomen attended to a guest's bath? Though, perhaps if they were regulars in court, they may not have received Loki with such warmth. Whatever their situation may be, Sigyn quickly decided that she ought to take whatever she was given – anything was better than sleeping on the ground.
"We had everything ready for you when you arrived this morning," the woman chirped, "but you fell asleep before we could even get you in the bath!"
She then proceeded to shriek in laughter, which the servant girl joined in on weakly. Sigyn failed to see the humor in exhaustion, but tried to produce an amused expression nonetheless.
"I was just saying to…" She trailed off when she turned back to the servant, and then blushed when she realized she hadn't even asked for the girl's name. "To…"
"Dotta, my princess," the girl murmured, head bowed respectfully. It seemed the appearance of her mistress had curbed the girl's earlier enthusiasm for their meeting.
"Dotta," Sigyn repeated, hoping to sound pleasant and conversational. "I was saying to Dotta that I am unaccustomed to such long journeys… I'm sorry that you must make everything again."
"Oh, it is hardly a bother," Ira insisted. She then snapped her fingers at Dotta, and Sigyn caught the girl flinching out of the corner of her eye. "Help the princess into the bath before her water cools."
The girl was suddenly upon Sigyn in a hurry, fingers expertly unlacing the bindings of her dress in silence. Ira, meanwhile, grabbed a nearby stool – one lined with lace and padded for one's comfort – and dragged it to the side of the sizable tub. It seemed the woman intended to stay for the duration of her bath, and Sigyn awkwardly covered her breasts once Dotta had tugged her dress down to her waist. She then assisted the girl in wriggling out of the stolen garment, and when it pooled at her feet, she saw how filthy her travels had made it; this bath couldn't have come at a better time, it seemed.
"Now, I cannot say I have ever heard of a Sigyn in court," Ira insisted as Dotta helped her into the bath. It was painful to lift her legs up the stairs, and continued to hurt as she clambered over the edge, but once she was in the water, her pains melted away. "Are you a foreigner?"
The question was so blunt that it caused Sigyn to look up sharply, eyebrows raised. Ira, to her credit, stared as though she had asked something quite polite and conversational; it seemed that boldness was a trait in the folk of Trondheim.
"I'm actually not nobility," Sigyn explained softly, sinking down into the murky water so that the entirety of her naked form remained covered. Ira leaned forward, eyes alight as though she were about to become privy to the most delicious gossip, and in light of that, Sigyn chose her words carefully. It would have been easy to tell her story to a stranger, but now that her life was also Loki's (and vice versa, she supposed), Sigyn needed to be careful with whom she shared her information with. So, she decided to be light on the details – Theoric was never to be mentioned. If Ira had not heard of Theoric and Sigyn through courtly circles, she wouldn't hear of it from the woman herself. "I was working as a gardener for the queen, actually."
"Really?" the woman gasped, nostrils flaring in the process. "How romantic… Was it a forbidden love?"
"It was unexpected, I suppose," Sigyn replied carefully, jerking to the side when she felt Dotta run a sponge along her shoulders. The servant girl gave a weak smile: she was only doing her job. Sigyn obliged, leaning forward and letting her scrub at her back. "I think everyone would have preferred that I at least be a princess… A real one."
"Oh, nonsense," Ira remarked, scratching at her noticeably backcombed hair as Dotta began undoing the braid that held Sigyn's tresses in one place. "This is much more scandalous… much more exciting. A prince and princess finding each other is boring."
"I suppose-"
"Now, what's he like?" Ira pressed, hands now gripping the rim of the tub. Sigyn blinked at her, somewhat distracted with the sensation of having her hair loose once more.
"Like?"
She permitted Dotta to dunk her head below the water, and then heard the girl opening bottles somewhere out of sight.
"You know," Ira continued as she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Like."
It took Sigyn a moment to realize what the woman was referring to, and when she did, she blushed bright red. "Oh."
"Come now, it's just between us girls," the woman insisted, and Sigyn thought the term "girl" ought to be applied to Ira very loosely. "He always seems so serious when he comes to visit."
She hesitated in her response: it was no one's business what her husband was like in the bedroom, but it seemed that Ira was the type of woman to press until she got what she wanted. So, Sigyn saw no harm in offering the truth about that certain facet of her life. Besides, the way Dotta massaged her scalp seemed to make her more open for sharing – the sensation was marvelous, and she could smell the calming aroma of some sort of bubbly shampoo trickling down the side of her face.
"We haven't… had a chance to…" Sigyn trailed off, licking her lips quickly and offering the woman a shrug as she gawked at her. "It's been a long trip, and he thought it best not to force anything while I was… Well, you saw me."
"So you have not even-"
"We will," Sigyn said hastily, nodding her head a few times as Ira continued to stare. "He may seem serious, but my husband is incredibly considerate of me…"
"Oh, and he should be rewarded for such behaviour!" Ira trilled, clapping her hands together suddenly as though this were the best news of the day. "Dotta, finish with her hair quickly… There's so much more to do now that we are preparing you for an occasion!"
"That isn't necessary," she insisted weakly, but it seemed Ira was already lost to the idea. Her cheeks remained permanently pink: not only had the woman seen her completely naked, but she now thought she was readying Sigyn to go to bed with her husband.
And all of this within less than an hour of knowing one another.
"Now, I'm sure I don't need to instruct you on what to expect on your first night together?" Sigyn frowned at the woman – she had officially crossed the border of too familiar. "I trust your mother saw to that?"
"My mother died a long time ago," Sigyn remarked tersely. She wanted to be a polite guest, but this woman was actually starting to grate on her nerves. However, a deep breath and Dotta's fingers on her scalp seemed to ease the tensions away, and she offered a small smile to counteract Ira's horror.
"Oh, sweet thing," the woman cooed, reaching out for Sigyn assumed was her hand, which she quickly offered in lieu of accidental-grabbing of other body parts. "Not to worry, I shall tell you everything-"
"There's no need," Sigyn promised. She then dunked her head below the water again at Dotta's gentle urging, and re-emerged with lotion running down her face. Still, even as she tried to wipe it away from her eyes, she objected to the idea of Ira teaching her anything about the marriage bed. "I have already been thoroughly instructed."
"Instructions and expectations are two different things," the woman told her. It was only then that she finally leaned back, hands folded neatly on her lap. There was an expression of smug superiority on her face that tugged at Sigyn's temper once more, but she kept quiet all the same.
After all, Sigyn may have had experience with sexual activity, but she had recently decided that it was barely more than a girl recently deflowered. In the two years that she had been intimate with Theoric, they had only ever done anything one way, and according to womanly gossip, there were at least five or six ways to position oneself in bed. Sigyn had simply never asked for variation, and her previous complacency with monotony now seemed obvious when she considered her overall relationship with the man.
"Now, the first time will be painful, yes," Ira prattled, speaking louder when Sigyn tended to her nails, "but it will be the most pleasurable for him." She looked up quickly when the woman paused, and then nodded – a sign she was taking every ounce of it in. "You'll probably bleed, but Dotta can change the sheets for you in the morning."
"Yes," Sigyn responded absently, meeting Dotta's eyes for a brief moment before she returned to her nails. "My aunt said as much."
She certainly didn't mean to be dismissive of Ira's "teachings", but this wasn't a lesson she needed to learn. However, Sigyn had no intentions of being a poor guest, and once she had finished with her nails, she gave the woman such rapt attention that it would have made anyone uncomfortable. Not Ira: no, Ira seemed to thrive under Sigyn's gaze, and by the time she had finished speaking, Sigyn's water had gone cool.
"Mistress, her fingers are pruning," Dotta said abruptly, interrupting Ira's latest tangent about the importance of exceptional hairstyles for the first bedding as a wife. Sigyn glanced down and realized that it wasn't exactly true, but she was sure to be wrinkled soon.
"Oh, look at me, prattling on," Ira laughed. "Out you get, princess. I shall find you a suitable dress to wear tonight…"
"Perhaps something to eat?" Sigyn proposed instead. She was grateful to receive clothing, yes, as she had nothing to her name but a pair of dresses, but the hollowness in her stomach begged for something more. Ira's eyes widened at the thought, and her hands flew to her cheeks.
"Oh, forgive me, princess," she gasped. "What a poor hostess I have been to let you starve!"
"We were talking," Sigyn remarked, hoping to smother the woman's dramatics before they escalated. "No harm done, my lady."
Her words, however, seemed to have no effect on the woman. Instead, she remained as flustered as ever, her cheeks a dull crimson as she shot to her feet. "What shall I bring you?"
"Anything," Sigyn replied lightheartedly. Perhaps humour would soothe her? "Whatever my husband ate this evening shall be suited for me."
"Of course, of course… Give me a moment, princess!"
She watched the woman rush out of the hall in a flurry, heels clacking noisily against the intricately-designed stone floor. When they were finally alone, she turned back to face Dotta, and both women exchanged uncomfortable titers. The girl then retrieved a thick green blanket, and gestured for Sigyn to stand.
"Thank you," Sigyn murmured as she rose from the water and allowed Dotta to wrap the blanket around her shoulders. The material felt as though it had been sitting on a heater, and in that moment, she couldn't have been happier. "You've been very kind."
Dotta gave a nod. "As have you, princess."
The girl then helped her out of the tub once more, though Sigyn found it easier to compel her aching limbs to move this time. The bath water seemed to have cured some of her pains, and she no longer needed to lean heavily on the slim girl as they marched across the hall to a wall lined with vanity sets.
"Why are there so many?" Sigyn asked, speaking her thoughts aloud before considering them. Dotta gave a soft chuckle as she beckoned for her to sit.
"All the ladies of the court like to bathe together," Dotta explained as she dragged Sigyn's damp hair back and over her shoulders. She then went for a nearby brush. "They like to socialize while we attend to them… The master of the house persuaded Mistress Ira not to include you in that ritual today."
"Thank goodness," Sigyn muttered, and she caught Dotta smile softly in the mirror's reflection. Although she had no ill will toward the idea of a woman's nude form, she couldn't imagine sitting with dozens of women that she did not know today: the noise would have been excruciating.
They sat in a comfortable silence as Dotta continued to brush her hair, gently working out the tangles with concentration and care. Now that she was finally clean, Sigyn realized she could have slept for another week, but she knew she couldn't. Once she was sorted here, she knew that she would need to attend to her husband as a proper wife should.
While her mind may have been a wreck in the wake of Theoric's departure, she knew now that he had no claim to her. A ring sat on her finger, one that Loki had set there as he said an eternal oath before the entirety of Asgard's nobility, and that was who she owed her allegiance to now. Ira may have rambled on for too long about the first night, but she was right about one thing: it was a time that every man and woman must share at the start of their marriage. Loki may have been patient because she was in such a horrible state while on the road, but there was no reason to be patient any longer. With her pains calming and stomach soon to be satisfied, there was no reason for Sigyn to shirk her wifely duties any longer.
"Here we are," Ira trilled, announcing her return to the hall noisily as she sauntered in with a tray in hand. "I had the kitchens warm what you missed this evening."
"Thank you," Sigyn said quickly. Her eyes widened as they observed the mountain of food on the plate in the woman's hands. "It looks delicious."
"I'm sure anything will after the meals you've grown accustomed to," the woman giggled, shooting Dotta a glare as she approached. "Stop fussing… The princess's hair is brushed." Dotta scurried to the side when Ira set the tray down noisily, her eyes to the floor. "Fetch the garments I've laid out on my bed."
Sigyn's eyes followed the girl's retreating figure as she hurried across the hall, quite sad to see her leave, but once she caught another whiff of her meal, she was lost to the world.
"The colour suits your eyes, princess."
Sigyn felt like a harlot. Dotta had returned shortly after her departure with a silken dress in hand and a dressing robe to cover it, and Ira had cooed about how much Loki would desire her with it on. She found it difficult to refuse the woman's offer, as she had just given her a warm bath and fresh food, but it certainly wasn't her style. The straps were too thin, and the lacy material stopped mid-thigh. Even the robe to cover her modesty was silk, and should anyone see her in the halls, they would be sure of her impending activities.
However, Dotta remained kind about it, complimenting her repeatedly as she escorted Sigyn to her chambers. The sun had set officially while she munched on a latent dinner, and with the night came the rain once more. The droplets sounded relentlessly on the window panes and light stones of the castle, and she could have sworn she saw a leak somewhere in the shadows.
"Thank you, Dotta."
"Here," the girl said suddenly, stopping at a set of double-doors. "Have a pleasant night, princess. I'll have your breakfast ready in the morning."
Sigyn nodded, and within a moment the girl was gone.
Ira had given her Dotta for the duration of her stay, which comforted her. However, now that she was alone, standing there with only a doorway to separate her from her husband, she felt anxious. What if she displeased him? What if she was unsatisfying in some way?
She licked her lips, ordering her trembling hands to cease their quakes as one reached for the copper knob, and then slipped inside. The room was much like the bath hall: high ceilings with polished stone columns descending from their heights. It was certainly expansive – extravagant – and there was far more space than they needed. Sigyn spied a large bed at the far side, next to an open balcony shielded only by a hanging pair of curtains, which blew violently in the thunderstorm. There were a plethora of blue hues across the space, and she wondered who this room belonged to on a normal day.
As she sauntered inward, she found a small entranceway on the far right side, through which she could see a pool embedded in the ground.
"Ah," Loki greeted as she peeked around the corner. "There you are."
He sat, comfortable and collected, in the steaming pool, arms stretched out lazily across the tiled flooring. Sigyn swallowed her nerves as she stepped inside, but she couldn't stop herself from drawing the dressing gown closed. His eyes hadn't wandered – even though it was their right to do so – but she couldn't help herself: it felt instinctual to shield her exposed cleavage from any man aside from Theoric.
"How are you feeling?" her husband inquired, sitting up properly as she approached, hands disappearing beneath the water's surface. "Did Ira take care of you?"
"Yes," Sigyn replied, nodding a few times as she settled down at the edge of the pool. A proper wife would have shed her clothing and climbed in, but Sigyn knew she was far from the proper wife yet – the thought of sitting in anymore water made her cringe. "Fed, clothed, and cleaned… She was very thorough."
Loki gave a cold laugh, rolling his eyes a little as Sigyn tucked her legs beneath her, a hand still keeping her robe closed. "I suspect she hopes you'll return the favours someday."
"Of course I would," Sigyn insisted. She knew precisely how to be a courteous hostess, but that would require a home of her own first.
"And would you make that woman your handmaiden once you are queen?" he inquired, amusement dancing across his eyes. Sigyn stared at him for a moment, but she couldn't quite muster the words to her lips. Queen? She had barely adjusted to the thought of being falsely addressed as a princess. "Never mind that... Those are thoughts for another day."
She nodded, pleased that the subject had been dropped. Instead, she watched him rise and make his way toward her, water sloshing this way and that as he glided through it. He paused before her, lips pressed firmly together and gaze steady as he placed a hand on her leg. Her breathing quickened, but she managed to mask it well as his other hand went for her neck, and then slid up to cup her cheek. Sigyn smiled when she saw the corners of his lips quirk upward, and then turned her head to the side to kiss the palm of his hand.
She would be a proper wife tonight – nerves be damned.
When she turned back to face him, he leaned forward, eyes heavy-lidded and eager, but Sigyn flinched just out of reach.
"Come to bed, husband," she whispered shakily, clutching at the hand that held her face for the briefest of moments and then pulling away. He said nothing to the demand, but merely watched her as she retreated toward the archway. She paused there, a hand on the wall, listened for a moment, and then carried on when she heard her husband drag himself from the pool. There was a sense of urgency in her step, but once she reached the edge of their borrowed bed, she stopped.
She couldn't force herself to climb on, and instead merely stood at the end of it, a finger gently touching the soft blanket atop it. Sigyn heard him cross the hall shortly after, the slap of his bare feet against the stone quite noticeable, and her breath hitched in her throat when he stopped directly behind her. They stood like that for the longest of moments, and just as Sigyn had built up the courage to face him, he gently pulled the dressing robe from her shoulders. The silky material fell down the length of her arms unhindered and landed between them. He then went for the thin straps that held her dress up, and Sigyn glanced at her left shoulder as he pulled the strings downward. The dress, though scandalously short, was loose enough to fall without anything hold it up, and she felt colour rush to her cheeks.
He stepped forward, body pressed to hers, and she felt the soft material of a thin towel wrapped around his waist. However, as he ran the tips of his fingers along her shoulders and down to her collarbone, she felt something else too, something she expected to feel – arousal. She blinked quickly, unsure of what she should do in response, and merely leaned her head back against his shoulder when his teeth nibbled just below her ear. His hands, meanwhile, continued their quest downward, and she inhaled sharply when they stopped at her breasts.
Each found one to hold, and Sigyn bit her lip when one tugged at her nipple, fussing over it until it was almost painfully hard. The kisses he lavished her neck with had grown more desperate during his tentative exploration, and Sigyn let out a small gasp when he bit her, though he carefully soothed the mark with his tongue afterward. The gesture had left her so distracted that she hadn't even noticed one of his hands wander down to her waist, then onward to the apex of her thighs.
"Oh," she whispered as he cupped her, the base of his palm pressing against something that gave her a pleasurable feeling in the pit of her stomach. He did it again, this time pressing and rubbing against her, which earned a similar reaction from his now trembling wife. Nerves led way to a very fractured excitement, though they seemed to return when he slid a finger along her folds, his free hand now on her waist as he ground himself against her.
"Lie down," he murmured against her skin. "Lie down, wife."
She nodded and crawled forward. Theoric had always taken her on her knees, but Loki had requested she lie down. It took her a moment to decide what he wanted, and as she saw him unravel the towel from around his waist, she opted to settle down on her stomach. She flinched when she felt the tips of his fingers dance along the backs of her knees, her body tensing as she waited for the unavoidable.
"On your back, wife," Loki ordered softly as he tried to roll her over. She complied quickly, her cheeks reddening again as she braced for a scolding, but he said nothing else on the matter. Instead, he merely situated himself between her thighs and darted down to toy with her nipple, tongue laving at the sensitive bud.
When he had finished, he hooked her leg up to his waist, and then settled down atop her, his other hand guiding himself to her entrance. Sigyn swallowed thickly, eyes to the ceiling and breathing rapid as he pressed inward. At first, it was almost painfully slow, and her hands flew to his shoulders to stop him. However, when there was little real resistance, he thrust forward fully, groaning when his sharp hipbones pressed against her soft flesh.
"Tell me," he muttered, his arms now resting on either side of her, "if I hurt you."
"I'm fine," she told him earnestly. There was no pain, only a dull pleasure and a feeling of fullness that she seldom experienced before. "Have me as you will, husband."
He chuckled weakly, and then pulled back just enough to push against her sharply, earning him a small cry that hitched in her throat. She nodded when his eyes sought out hers, and he continued at a steady pace, taking her slowly but firmly. It was overwhelming: she rarely experienced so much when she was taken to bed – so much feeling and touching and sensation.
"Look at me," he insisted suddenly, and Sigyn's eyes fluttered open – she hadn't even realized she had shut them. "Please?"
There was a desperation that tugged at his voice, and she wove her fingers into his hair as she kissed him. Her lips parted willingly, perfectly content to let him take whatever he might need from her. In return, he hitched her other leg up to his waist, changing the way he felt inside her; Sigyn whimpered as his thrusts quickened. No longer slow and firm, but quick and hard – he took her greedily, as though he might never have her again.
And there was real pleasure now. Pleasure that started from where they joined and begged for more, but as he broke away and pressed his forehead to hers, she suspected her pleasure would wait this time. Sigyn couldn't – and wouldn't – dare complain, as she had felt more now in this heated moment than she had ever felt in the past.
His eyes clenched shut tightly, teeth gritted and fingers pressed painfully into her legs, but he still managed to hiss something that sounded like wife as his pace stuttered off. When he finally stopped, Sigyn could feel the ache from her long journey slowly creeping back into her hips, but she kept quiet as he lingered above her. Her husband gave her a quick kiss before he rolled to the side, his absence leaving her legs trembling. She placed a hand to her chest as she tried to steady her breathing.
She was a real wife now – an honest, true, and dutiful wife.
"Again," Loki croaked, and Sigyn turned her head sharply to the side to face him. "Come here."
At his behest, she crawled atop him, somewhat unsure of how she ought to place herself. She had never been on top – not for long, anyway, and never during the act itself. However, when his fingers delved between her thighs once more, she cried out weakly, eyes wide as the dull pleasure returned. Sigyn then permitted her husband to take her twice more before the morning light chased away the remnants of the storm.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Doin' it! There we go! Hopefully the scene was satisfactory – I'm always pretty self-conscious of my seckz scenes and whatnot, but I think I'm getting better. I don't have too much to say this time around – literally writing this just before I go to work, so I was in a bit of a rush to edit and get this one uploaded for you!
Much love for all the support and feedback for this story! It's not my most popular Loki-centric fic, but I have a good time writing it. Until next time!