Several weeks passed, and though Sigyn and Loki fell into a comfortable routine, she realized that being the companion of a prince would take some getting used to.

Since news of their relationship had become common knowledge around the palace, Sigyn found it to be increasingly difficult to interact with the rest of the staff. There was never any outright mistreatment, but Sigyn was no fool. She could see the looks they gave her, the insinuations of suddenly being set apart from them.

She really had no deep friendships to lose and mourn, as it had never been particularly easy for her to make friends with the other workers in the first place. Edmund's protective nature had effectively discouraged any of the male staff members from talking to her outside of what was required by her duties. On the other hand, many of the female staff members were only interested in befriending Sigyn as a way to get to Edmund or his fellow Royal Guards.

However, the last thing she wanted was for everyone to think she was abusing her newfound privileges as Loki's companion and lover. She made it a priority to treat others in the palace with renewed respect and politeness, no matter how difficult it sometimes proved to be.

Once, she had been sent to bring one of the Queen's dresses to the palace seamstresses, and had overheard a snippet of a conversation between two of them as she entered the room. That handmaiden, Sigyn? I suppose she thinks she's better than the rest of us now she's caught herself a prince. But it's only Prince Loki - she obviously didn't set her sights high enough.

Sigyn had retreated hastily before she was seen, gathering her wits and clearing her throat loudly before she reentered. Perhaps it had been wishful thinking, but they had seemed somewhat abashed when they saw her, treating her with the utmost politeness. They knew better than to be disrespectful to her face, but it still disturbed Sigyn to know what others were saying when they thought she was not around to hear.

Despite her apprehension, Sigyn had not said a word to Loki about any of it. He had become very protective of her, almost to the point of possessiveness, and she surmised that he would likely react badly if he knew. She did not want the responsibility of another staff member losing his or her job on her head, hurt feelings or not. Sigyn wanted to be sure that she could handle her new circumstances without his intervention.

To Loki's great consternation, she also chose to sleep at her own apartment more often than not. Loki made it clear that he preferred having her in his bed - not yet theirs, a small but important distinction to Sigyn - every night, but she didn't let his frustration deter her. If she gave up her place at her apartment and her relationship with Loki suddenly turned sour, the only other option would be for her to move back in with Dagmar - something she desperately wanted to avoid. For her own sanity, she knew she needed to retain some of her independence, and staying in her own bed most of the time was the best way to accomplish that.

She loved Loki, and loved being with him, but that did not mean she was willing to completely give up what little autonomy she had left. She had allowed Edmund to have control of her life for so long - she was reluctant to allow Loki the same amount of power over her. He would just have to understand.

Loki met her outside the Queen's chambers after her duties, as he always did, but Sigyn could tell immediately that something was wrong. He was usually so excited to see her and spend time with her, but on this day his features were guarded. If Sigyn didn't know better, she would think he was on the verge of tears.

"What's troubling you, love?" she asked. She moved in to hold him - but his embrace was weak and lacked its normal warmth.

"Thor and I had a meeting today, with our father and his advisors. It seems that a decision has been made - Thor is to be crowned king in six months' time," he said. "A delegation from Vanaheim will be visiting Asgard three weeks from now, and the official announcement will be made at the gala being held in their honor." He stared at the floor. "I don't know how to feel about it."

"What brought this on? Why now?"

"Father says he has grown weary of the throne. He thinks Thor is ready to lead." He shook his head. "I'm not so sure he's right."

"Can you not voice your concerns to your father in private?"

He scoffed. "He would never listen to me. He would dismiss any of my concerns as fueled by jealousy."

"What of your mother? Would she be able to intervene on your behalf?" Sigyn felt as though she was grasping for anything that might ease his mind, but she was at a loss.

"I cannot run to my mother any time something doesn't go my way, Sigyn. Besides, she always defers to my father's judgment on matters such as these, and rightfully so. I don't suppose a king would be looked upon favorably if he allowed his wife to influence him too much."

Sigyn bristled at his implication. "I don't believe for one moment that you think your mother's opinions are not worth considering."

"I didn't say that, Sigyn. I only meant my father may not feel the same way." He grabbed her hands, a loud sigh escaping his lips. "I know you intended to stay at your apartment tonight, but would you consider staying with me instead? Being with you would soothe my anxiety."

"I don't know…I didn't come prepared to stay the night."

"Well, what if I stay with you there?"

"After what happened the last time? I'm not sure that's a good idea."

For a moment, Loki's eyes held their usual glint of mischief. "I'm sorry Edmund had to hear anything. I can't help it if you're so…vocal."

"You swore to me that you cast a spell on the room to stifle any sounds."

"Did I?" he asked, looking wounded. "You must have misunderstood."

"No, I understood perfectly. I think you enjoyed torturing him." She cringed at the memory of what her brother may have heard before leaving the apartment in disgust, his muttered obscenities clear even through her closed bedroom door.

"Maybe a bit," he said. A small smile appeared on his face, fading away as quickly as it had come. A heavy silence passed between them before he looked up at her, his eyes serious. "Sigyn, please stay with me tonight. I don't want to be on my own."

He had a way about him, managing to look so innocent and vulnerable that it made her heart ache. She couldn't help but question his motives, but he made it so difficult to resist. "If it will make you feel better, I'll stay tonight. I just need to go home and get some clothing for tomorrow."

"Excellent," he said, shining his usual bright smile. "Let me go with you."

"That's fine," she said, "but I swear on Yggdrasil - if Edmund is home we're making a quick retreat."

The next day, Sigyn's list of duties was fairly short. Loki had informed her that the Queen's favorite dressmaker was going to come in and discuss her dress for the gala.

Sigyn was astounded at first, attempting to protest such a luxury. You will be attending not as my mother's handmaiden, but as my guest. As such, you will be afforded the very finest clothing Asgard has to offer. It was yet another reminder that being Loki's companion - while not without difficulties - certainly had its privileges.

Introduced only as Ranka, the dressmaker was a willowy woman, spare and efficient in her movements. She entered the Queen's chambers, and without any preamble, held Sigyn out at arm's length, sizing her up and muttering under her breath. Finally, she looked Sigyn in the eyes, declaring "Oh, I have just the dress in mind for you." Sigyn was a bit taken aback, thinking she would have more say in the design, but she said nothing. She was evidently going to be expected to defer to Ranka's expertise.

The dressmaker laid out several swatches of fabric for Sigyn's perusal, going into great detail about the features and materials used on them. Each one was more sumptuous and beautiful than the last - and every single one of them a variant of emerald green. When it was clear that Ranka was finished, Sigyn sighed. "Forgive me," she said, running her fingers over the fabric. "Do you have any other colors from which to choose?"

"Well, of course. However…" Ranka paused, considering her words. "Prince Loki…he suggested these."

Sigyn took it for what it undoubtedly was - a not so subtle way of marking her as his - and it caused a sudden surge of rebellion to flare up in her mind. She wanted some say in the final design, even if it was only the color. "I'm sorry, but I don't want a green dress," she said, smiling to hide her irritation. "Show me something else."

The dressmaker opened her mouth to reply, floundering at Sigyn's resistance. "I'm not sure-"

"I'm sure," said Sigyn, cutting her off firmly, yet redoubling her efforts to sound polite. "Please, show me something else. Anything other than green."

"As you wish." Ranka returned to her bag, sorting quickly through the other swatches to find comparable fabrics.

"He's not going to appreciate you going against his wishes."

Sigyn started at the new voice, thinking she and Ranka were alone. She turned to find Sif approaching her, an amused look on her face.

"Lady Sif," said Sigyn. "I did not hear you come in. Are you getting a dress made as well?" Sigyn asked, wincing at the inanity of her question. Sif didn't seem the type to be keen on small talk.

Sigyn had only ever talking to Sif in passing, never having had the opportunity to spend any length of time with her, much less talk to her alone. Sif tended to be aloof and intimidating around people she didn't know well, and Sigyn was anxious to see if she would be any more relaxed in a private setting.

"Not exactly," said Sif. "I only agreed to have a new tunic made for the gala. It's not as easy to hide my knives in a tight fitting dress."

Sigyn was about to ask if Sif was joking, but from the look on the warrior's face she thought better of it. She didn't appear to be the jesting type when it came to her weapons.

"Well, at least you will be comfortable," said Sigyn. She indicated the dressmaker's paraphernalia. "Frankly, I'm a little new to all of this. Does it ever get easier? Being the companion to a prince?"

"In some ways, yes." said Sif, smiling at Sigyn. "I must say, I am impressed that you would not defer to Loki's opinion on everything. He can be rather persuasive when he wants something."

"I am well aware, believe me. I'm actually quite grateful that he isn't here right now. I'm certain he would try to convince me to rethink my color choices."

"You know, I'm not sure Loki fully appreciates what he has in you. You are much stronger than I thought you would be."

"I like to think Loki appreciates my strength, even when it goes against him."

"I'm sure he does, whether he would admit it or not." She tilted her head. "You love him." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, I do. You seem surprised."

"To be honest, I'm grateful for any woman willing to put up with him," said Sif. "He's never been the easiest person to get along with, but Loki deserves happiness as much as anyone else. He certainly seems to have found it with you."

"And I with him. Truly."

"I hope for your sake that it remains that way, Sigyn."

Sigyn was about to ask her what she might mean, when Ranka returned from her bag with a handful of new swatches. "Here. Let us choose between these fabrics, shall we?"

"I will just wait over here until you are finished," said Sif, walking to the other side of the Queen's chambers. "Sigyn, it was a pleasure to finally talk to you."

"For me as well, Lady Sif," said Sigyn, watching as Sif walked away, her bearing as proud as any male warrior Asgard had ever produced. Sigyn couldn't help but think that she could learn a thing or two from Sif about being a strong woman among temperamental men.