Sigyn awoke feeling quite sore. She also woke to the light pattering of rain. She awoke alone.

Sighing, the woman stretched her stiff limbs outward in the large empty bed that had, until the early hours of the morning, played host to lovemaking. As she tucked her naked frame beneath the thick coverlet, she let her lips splay into a contented smile.

Before, she had been so worried about what it would be like to bed her new husband – what would he think of her poor skills? She feared how she would feel come the dawn; how would her heart feel to betray Theoric? Surprisingly enough, she felt no stab of regret for her actions. Her body ached, yes, but she certainly did not feel anything horrific for her deeds. Loki seemed perfectly content with her abilities, as he took her thrice before they succumbed to sleep and offered no complaints on the issue.

All three times, he had taken her on her back; apparently that was the most common position for a man to bed his wife. She didn't particularly dislike it, and it was a marked improvement from being taken on her knees, but it only brought about modest pleasure. She wouldn't dare complain, naturally, but perhaps one day she would feel comfortable enough to ask her husband for something different.

But that would come in time. They hadn't said much to one another since they arrived in Trondheim, and last night proved to be no different. He was vocal about what he wanted from her – to look at him, to kiss him, to hold him a certain way – and yet they had not spoken about anything that truly mattered. That might bother some, but Sigyn quickly decided that it was not an issue for her. Her husband had been good to her – thus far, anyway – and she would do whatever she needed to ensure his happiness. She refused to become a nag so early on in their marriage; when he was ready to talk, she was sure he would do so.

Sigyn eased herself up, still holding the bed linens around her as she situated her body into a seated position, her back resting against the headboard. Daylight – or whatever the sky offered – showed the room to be much larger than she had noticed by candlelight, but also much emptier. There were two small couches by the entrance of a balcony, and the window near the bed was only covered by a sheer sheet. Her cheeks blushed crimson at the thought of anyone below hearing a husband take his wife. Beyond the numerous columns, each covered in an intricacy of metal vines and artwork, there was not much else to the room. She spied their traveling bags in the corner, tucked away neatly, and wondered if Mistress Ira would have more for her to wear.

The linens were a little too large for her to tug free and wrap around her body, so Sigyn was forced to perform her morning routine completely in the nude. Not that it mattered, mind you, seeing as she was completely alone, but a flicker of adrenaline pumped through her system at the thought of someone walking in on her who ought not to. However, her routine was blissfully undisturbed, and she soon found herself back in bed beneath the sheets. For some time, she sat there, smoothing out the coverlet and thinking about her most recent sexual dalliances with her husband.

Mercifully, by the time her stomach started to grumble, she heard someone knocking noisily at the door. For a brief moment, Sigyn panicked – Loki wouldn't knock. However, the worry faded away when Dotta's familiar head poked its way through the crack in the door, and Sigyn beckoned her in with a wave of her hand.

"I've brought you breakfast, my lady," the servant girl explained as she hurried across the vast space between them. Clad in a rather thin – almost sheer – brown dress, Dotta looked strangely dressed in Sigyn's eyes. The tray in her hand, however, was enough to push her curiosity aside, and she crawled to the end of the bed in eager anticipation. There was what appeared to be a robe slung over the servant's arm, and Sigyn smiled at the sight of it.

"I hope that's also for me," she murmured tentatively as Dotta set the tray down on the bed. "I don't have much to wear."

"Yes, Mistress Ira thought as much," Dotta beamed, holding out the silken creamy gown for Sigyn to take. "Did you sleep well?"

Her cheeks flushed a dull pink, but she was able to hide her blushes beneath the soft material of her new garment, which she pulled eagerly over her head. However, the dress covered less than the bed linens did, and Sigyn shifted uncomfortably as she held the plunging neckline together. "Well enough, yes. I was very tired."

"Oh, I can imagine," the brunette beamed. It was at that moment that Sigyn noted the tips of Dotta's were dyed a bright blonde, almost white, colour. That coupled with the streaks in Mistress Ira's hair indicated a very strange rural fashion-sense indeed. "I bet the first night with a new husband is very tiring."

Sigyn looked at the woman sharply, eyes wide at the insinuation. She shouldn't be surprised – Dotta had been present when Sigyn told her mistress that she had not been with her husband yet. However, she had not thought that the girl would bring it up. She cleared her throat, reaching for a fluffy pastry on a nearby plate, and then gave a terse response, "Yes."

"Did I say something wrong, princess?" Sigyn's indignation softened at the question; the servant looked genuinely concerned that she had done something horrible.

"It isn't polite to discuss what a woman does with her husband in private," she explained carefully. She knew that women liked to gossip, but it was usually done behind one another's back and not straight to their faces.

"Oh." Dotta fiddled with the fabric of her skirt, and as she moved it, Sigyn could see the outline of her toned legs. "Mistress Ira talks about it all the time… So do all the other women. I had thought… I'm sorry, princess."

"It's alright," Sigyn insisted as she tried to offer a warm smile. All this chatter hindered the freshly arrived food from being eaten, but if the girl was willing to talk, Sigyn thought she ought to reciprocate. It would be nice to have a friend in such a strange place. "Would you like to sit, Dotta?"

"Thank you, my lady." The woman arranged herself neatly on the edge of the bed, and Sigyn decided to do the same. She set the tray between them, and then pushed the bowl of dark purple berries toward the servant when she caught the girl eyeing them. "Oh, I've already eaten-"

"Take some if you would like to," she told her, spreading a jam glaze over a piece of bread. "I won't be able to eat everything."

The girl hesitated for a moment, but when Sigyn feigned a pointed interest in her bread, Dotta reached for a handful of berries and tried to eat them as discreetly as she could. Sigyn smiled.

"Are you feeling better today, my lady?"

She nodded with a hand in front of her mouth as she chewed quickly. "Much better, though I suspect I could do with another bath… Saddles leave their marks." As do a husband's hip bones.

"I'll prepare something in your private bath," Dotta told her as she popped a berry in her mouth. "Mistress Ira says I am to be your servant until you leave… Tell me anything you would like me to do."

Sigyn nodded gratefully; Mistress Ira gave off a vibe that made her uneasy, and yet Dotta made her feel nothing of the sort. So, if the other noblewomen were anything like the Mistress of Trondheim Castle, Sigyn preferred to keep Dotta close. She finally gave her breakfast tray a thorough examination, holding her slice of bread in one hand and exploring with the other. Along with the pastry and bowl of red jam, there were the berries, sliced orange fruits that Sigyn assumed were local to the area, and a pot of steaming liquid. She pointed at the white pot as she swallowed her last mouthful.

"What is this?"

"Oh, I should have told you from the start," Dotta muttered, depositing her berries back in their designated bowl and picking up the pot. "Mistress Ira has a brew to hold off children from growing in your womb… She thought you might need it this morning."

Sigyn blinked rapidly as Dotta poured the brew into the small cup at the edge of her tray; it appeared to be nothing more than water with crushed herbs in it, but she couldn't be sure.

"I don't… know what to say," Sigyn stammered weakly. She hadn't even thought about the repercussions of a night with her new husband. "Thank your mistress for her discretion." Hopefully it would be the first of many instances where Mistress Ira could hold her tongue and not create some silly spectacle.

"There's a plant that grows in the countryside," the servant continued. Sigyn brought her new drink up and took a cautious sniff, followed by a small sip. "If you eat one leaf a day, you will not become pregnant. If you stop eating the leaf, you will." Sigyn grimaced at the bitter aftertaste the drink had, but noted that it was not entirely unpleasant. "Would you like me to bring you that plant?"

"Yes." The response came before she took any real time to think about it, but apparently Sigyn had already known the answer. As any proper wife should, Sigyn planned to give her husband as many children as he desired. Should he want one or ten, Sigyn would do her duty. However, at this very moment, the thought of traveling through Asgard's rural provinces with a babe in her belly seemed quite off-putting indeed. "If it isn't too much trouble."

"Nonsense," the girl laughed as she resumed munching on the purple berries. "I have a small stash in my chambers… I can bring it to you tonight, and I'll find more tomorrow. It's quite common here, princess."

"You take it?"

"Oh, yes," Dotta said with a grave nod. "I'm not properly married yet and men's hands wander when they visit… It's always nice to be without such serious consequences."

A dull roar of thunder boomed beyond her covered window, and Sigyn swallowed thickly as she tried to take in what Dotta had just said – men's hands wander. The girl seemed so casual about the subject matter, but it was hardly a casual thing! If Sigyn was ever lucky enough to have such a lovely servant like Dotta, she would never let visitors to her home be so awful. Her mistress ought to see to her care, rather than provide her with herbal remedies to hide what men did in the night.

"Do you know where my husband is?" Sigyn asked, opting to change the subject before she grew openly frustrated with Dotta's situation. The girl nodded.

"He was invited to a meeting with the small council this morning," she explained. "They usually finish up around this time… So perhaps he'll return soon?"

Then, as if the small woman had some sort of supernatural premonition, the door at the far end of the room swung open, and Sigyn's cheeks flushed once more when she spotted her husband.

"Call on me if you should need anything else," Dotta whispered, leaping from the bed and giving a small bow. "Enjoy your breakfast, princess."

"Thank you, Dotta." She watched the slim girl hurry across the room, her head cast down when she passed Loki. Sigyn saw her husband's eyes flicker over to Dotta for the briefest of moments, but he seemed to give her no thought. Instead, he simply pressed onward, an unreadable expression on his face. She glanced down at the tray and thought to offer him something to drink, but he probably would not want – or need – an herbal tea to stem a pregnancy.

"Good morning," he greeted softly as he strode up to her. "How do you fare?"

"Well," she replied, tilting her head up to smile. He took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, lips parting and tongue questing for hers. Sigyn inhaled sharply at the ferocity of it, the tips of her fingers dancing along the sensitive skin of his neck – she half-expected him to simply push her back and have his way with her. Her husband seemed to enjoy the carnal benefits of marriage, and it was actually quite nice to see earnest enthusiasm; Theoric was rarely so keen for her.

He broke away shortly after, however, and his lips brushed against her as he spoke. "Good. That makes me glad."

"And how do you fare, husband?" she whispered, her fingers feathering along his jawline. Loki stared down at her for a moment, seemingly thrown by her words, and then grinned.

"Well, of course," he told her, and after another quick kiss, he straightened up. "You never need to concern yourself with my state of affairs, Sigyn."

"Alright." She knew it was a lie. In fact, surely they both knew it was a lie. All of her actions from here on out would be based on how her husband felt and what he needed. However, if he preferred that she did not explicitly state her objectives, she wouldn't.

Her eyes remained on his back as he strolled toward the nearby window, and when it seemed he had no intention of continuing the conversation, Sigyn returned to her breakfast. She ate quickly, not wanting to alienate him while they were together, but paused when she heard him sigh irritably. He had drawn the cloth curtain back somewhat, and she saw a bolt of lightning illuminate the sky across the nearby valley. Thunder followed shortly after, and the rain grew steadier with each passing moment.

"The weather has been quite foul lately, hasn't it?" Sigyn offered. He looked back at her sharply as though he had forgotten she was there, and then nodded.

"Thor enjoys reminding me he is out there," her husband grumbled, a hand fisted in the curtain as lightning struck again. "As if I am not painfully aware already…"

She took another sip of her tea as a sea of little bumps erupted across her skin – he was letting the cool air in. No matter – the tea was still quite hot, and she figured it would warm her from the inside. The rest of her meal passed in silence. Loki neither looked at her nor spoke to her, and instead seemed completely preoccupied with the worsening storm. When she had finished everything on the tray (aside from the berries that Dotta had touched), Sigyn pushed it away and held her cup of warm tea between her hands.

"Dotta says you attended a small council meeting this morning?" She wouldn't pry if it upset him, but Sigyn couldn't help her curiosity.

"Dotta?"

"The servant Ira has given me," she clarified, eyes cast down at the clear, though spotty, liquid in her small cup. "You passed her on your way in."

"Ah, yes, her," he muttered, turning back to face her. He leaned against the wall, hands clasped in front of him. "She is correct… I rose early so that I could be privy to the affairs of Trondheim."

They stared at one another for a moment, and Sigyn licked her lips. "Was it interesting?"

"Not really." She took another sip of her tea when he paused. "I have very little interest in the tidings of farmers and merchants, but it certainly does not hurt to be aware of them."

"You're very smart, husband," Sigyn told him. And she certainly meant it. He seemed to think it was a jest and gave it a small laugh in return.

"My mother…" He trailed off, as though catching himself with a strange taste in his mouth. "I was always told that I was too smart."

"I don't think anyone can be too smart," Sigyn commented as she drummed her fingertips on the side of the cup. "Those who think they are too smart are stupid… They let themselves down by being arrogant." She swallowed nervously as he observed her, his smile gone. "That's what my father always told me, anyway."

"Did he?"

"Yes." She nodded quickly, the tension in her shoulders easing when he did not seem affronted by her response. "I think you're just smart… not too smart."

"And what makes you say that?"

There was an edge to his voice, one that could either be jovial or cruel, but Sigyn was too unpracticed to decipher between them. Instead, she merely carried on as though it were any ordinary conversation.

"Because you're the smartest person I've ever met," she told him, and Loki laughed loudly, his head thrown back and lips curved up into a smile.

"You must not have met many people, wife."

She gave him a shy smile before finishing the rest of her tea. It seemed this was another topic she would have to tread lightly around – perhaps her husband was unaccustomed to honest praise? Thunder boomed noisily outside their window, and Loki stepped away from it when a gust of wind brought in a smattering of rain.

"We'll stay here for the rest of the month," Loki told her suddenly as she set her empty cup back on the tray. "While we do, you must not engage in any sort of gossip with the other women about us."

"I'm not a gossip," she insisted, though her tone was hardly defensive. "No one has any right to know my personal business…" She cleared her throat. "Our personal business."

"Yes, precisely." She watched him stroll across the room slowly, each step deliberate and on point. "If anyone beyond those that we trust should discover who we are, we will have the wrath of the Hawkes and the All-father upon us. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"I plan to gather an army," Loki continued, "to march on Asgard… There is enough dissent amongst the lesser lords to do so." Sigyn felt her stomach knot uncomfortably at the idea. "I will then prove, once and for all, that I am the rightful king… I am the king Asgard deserves."

"Yes." She wasn't sure what else she could say to such an outrageous plan. Sigyn had no desire for war or armies or royalty, but she would stand by her husband and his dreams.

"Until I have my army, however, we must be cautious," he told her, pausing at one of the pillars and tracing a hand along its design. "I have no desire to be locked away again."

"No one does." He had spared her from a prison with Theoric, and Sigyn vowed to spare him whatever captivity he feared. She trusted him to keep her safe, and surely that trust was not unfounded.

"Thank you," his voice was gentler now, "for your patience." Sigyn fidgeted with the silken fabric of her dress when he glanced back at her. "And your…"

He clenched his jaw before turning away, perhaps forcing himself to be interested in the artwork on the pillar once more. The silence that hung between them was uncomfortable, and Sigyn knew it was her duty to break it. So, she pushed her nerves aside and rose, smoothing her hands down the front of her borrowed garment.

"I think I'm going to take a bath," Sigyn told him as she crossed the room, briefly meeting his gaze when she passed by. "You can join me… if you'd like?"

She turned toward the adjacent room with the pool just as she saw the excited gleam flash across his eyes. Before she could get too far away, he took hold of her by the forearm and yanked her back, placing her snugly between him and the pillar. Sigyn trembled as his lips descended upon hers, parting and questing once more for her eagerness. There was a warmth in the pit of her stomach that curled and grew as his hands trailed along her body, and her eyes fluttered open when he snatched one of her hands from his chest and placed it in his hair. She curled her fingers through the dark tresses as she tried desperately to keep up with him.

She was given a moment to breathe when his lips trailed down her neck, pausing here and there to nip or tug at the sensitive flesh. Her hand remained planted in his hair, while the other rested on his shoulder, and Sigyn's breath hitched in her throat when he slid a hand between her slightly parted thighs.

His enthusiasm was appreciated; for a time, she spurned the way he lusted after her, and yet now she realized she wanted nothing more. To feel desired – truly desired – brought out such strange emotions in her, but she welcomed them all the same. She had always wanted to be a good wife, and it pleased her to know that it took so little carnally to make her husband happy.

A soft whimper slipped from her no matter how hard she bit her lower lip as he stroked her, nothing but a thin layer of silk separating them completely. She wished she could do more to return the pleasure his actions wrought, but given her current position, it was difficult to do much more than simply enjoy whatever he offered.

Sigyn squirmed when her husband ran his tongue along the entire length of the plunging neckline, and then sighed pleasantly when he trailed kisses along her collarbone.

"Do not wear this dress outside of this room," he muttered. Sigyn giggled at the audacity of the idea.

"I had no intentions of it, I promise."

"Good." His lips returned to hers as he spoke the word, pressing against them so firmly that it actually hurt her head – it was somewhat painfully to be pressed against a solid pillar. Still, Sigyn said nothing, and merely offered a muffled squeal as he resumed rubbing her through the gown. The sensation was one that she had rarely ever experienced; it almost felt as though it tickled, and yet there were very obvious twinges of pleasure that shot up through her at random.

She almost protested when he stopped, but he left no room for that as he gathered the dress's fabric up in his hands and dragged it over her head. Loki tossed it aside, forgotten and crumpled, and then swept his gaze across her naked body. It seemed odd to blush under the eyes of her husband, but Sigyn couldn't help herself – she would probably be shy for some time. She swallowed thickly as he ran the tips of his fingers down, tracing over her collarbone, over her left breast and nipple, and then stopping at her hip bone. His breath was warm against her cheek, but she was unable to meet his gaze.

Instead, Sigyn's hands fumbled over his trousers' drawstring, her cheeks flushing even more when she struggled with it. Once she had managed to be the damnable thing loose, she reached inside and took hold of him with a steady hand – the other, which clutched the fabric of his shirt, did enough trembling for them both. She may lack experience in the variety of sexual foreplay, but Sigyn certainly knew what to do with a man's parts. Her husband's breath stuttered softly against her cheek when she gripped him and ran her hand along the entire length, from base to tip, and back again. She licked her lips, lost in concentration, and gasped when she felt a finger slide between her folds.

He then swatted her hand away and hoisted up her leg, holding it by the underside of her knee, and before she could get a word in, he had pushed himself into her, sliding right down to the hilt with a deep groan. With his face buried in the junction between her neck and shoulder, he brought her other leg up and wrapped both around his waist.

She locked her ankles obligingly, willing her muscles to relax – she had wanted to try something different, and this was certainly different. He seemed to have no problem holding her there, but it was still a strange position to take her in; she wasn't sure what to do with her hands. So, she decided to twine them in his hair, using that as her anchor. His pace was slow at first, which gave her time to relax, but it wasn't until his thrusts grew sharper that she started to feel pleasure again. His breath was impossibly hot against his skin, and she cried out whenever he used his teeth on her.

Each passing moment brought a paradox of sensation: there was pleasure where they joined, a throbbing goodness that stemmed upward, and then there was an ache in her hips from her recent jaunt on a horse's saddle. One sensation seemed to dull the other, but neither went away entirely.

He finally brought his lips to hers, more or less just holding them against her as he sought out her gaze. She gave it willingly now, her hands cupped on either side of his face, and he only broke their heavy-lidded stare when his thrusts quickened, growing shallow and rapid. He finished when he slammed into her one last time, his forehead pressed against hers as he exhaled deeply.

When his eyes finally opened again, she smiled down at him, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. She could feel her legs shaking in discomfort, but even still she kept silent. He looked contented, and that was all that mattered. Loki was gentle as he brought her legs down, and without a word exchanged between them, Sigyn began to remove his clothes. The shirt was discarded first, followed by the trousers that had fallen around his knees. Despite what they had just done, and what they had done all morning, she still couldn't bring herself to look anywhere aside from his face when he was nude, which made him chuckle.

They ended up in the warm pool together sometime later in the next room over. Just as she had found him the day before, Loki lounged with his arms resting along the pool's edge, and Sigyn curled against his chest. She enjoyed this time after lovemaking – Theoric had always sent her to clean up straight away, and yet Loki barely gave the matter any thought.

"Dotta mentioned something today," Sigyn murmured when the thought struck her again.

"Hmm?"

"About an herb," she continued, tracing unrecognizable shapes along his muscular chest, "that will keep me from becoming pregnant." He shifted beneath her, and she felt his hand on her back. Sigyn glanced up hesitantly, and when she saw he was not upset with her, she continued. "I thought now may not be the … opportune time to be with child."

"Did you take this herb today?" His voice cracked a little as he spoke.

"It was in my tea already," she told him. "Would you rather I didn't take it?"

"No," he whispered quickly, placing a firm kiss against her forehead. "No, take it… This is not the time for us."

"One day," she murmured, a smile crossing her lips when she felt him nod.

"Yes, one day."

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

So, I'm rather excited to write my next chapter (or whenever it happens) with a Loki POV, because his head is crazy with angsty emotions and feels right now. I hope I portrayed a little of that through his interactions with Sigyn in this chapter. I'm also pretty happy with Sigyn's development, because her thoughts on men and "duty" are still skewed even though she's being treated well. YEAY PSYCHOLOGICAL ISSUES.

Much love for all the feedback and support for this fic! It's growing into its popularity, and that makes me quite pleased!