He's running, but he's not sure if it's from something or toward something, or if it even matters.

The burn in his chest grows hotter with every step, and he can feel his legs growing heavier, but he pushes on, faster, harder.

Without question, he knows that he can't stop, he can't even slow down. If he does, something terrible will catch him or something wonderful will slip from his grasp. Maybe both. The thought frightens him - and he hates being scared. Fear is a weakness.

A few more steps and he sees her. She's facing the other way, so he calls out to her. "Sigyn!" She turns to him, her face beaming, her smile - oh! her smile - but it falters, her hand flying to her mouth and her eyes wide. She sees what's chasing him and she's terrified.

It's brief, only a moment, but he stumbles. Just a small hesitation, one missed step - but it's enough. He's caught in a swirl of fog, bitter and stinging cold. She calls out to him but the fog obscures his vision and she's gone.

He turns to see what's behind him and-

Loki's eyes flew open, his heart hammering in his chest and his breathing ragged. Just a dream, it was just a dream. He started to move, quickly realizing that he must have been struggling in his sleep, and that he had managed to tangle the lower half of his body in the sheets and furs that covered his bed. He knew that much thrashing about would surely have awoken Sigyn, and he started to reach for her, needing to calm himself in her arms. His hand hit empty space, however, and he remembered he was alone.

It had been a long week of entertaining the delegates from Vanaheim. Loki had been caught up every day and most evenings in the rituals of diplomacy and politics, and as a result, he had barely seen Sigyn outside of the times she had accompanied the Queen in her duties.

He had convinced her to spend the night most nights, to make up for the time they were missing during the day. She hadn't objected; in fact, she had been more than willing, considering his mother had needed more of her time than usual. Staying at the palace allowed her to be available to the Queen much quicker than she would have been had she stayed at her apartment.

Yet, even though she had stayed at the palace with him almost every night, they had not made love once all week - not for lack of wanting, but out of sheer physical and mental exhaustion on both of their parts. The week and all of its various activities were finally culminating in the gala that evening, and he didn't care how tired they were after it was over - neither of them were sleeping that night until he'd had his fill of her.

Sigyn had stayed at her apartment the night before, telling Loki that since she was attending the gala as his guest, she wanted time to prepare herself in peace. She also told him she did not want to walk to the palace in her new dress, and that he could send a carriage to collect her like a proper gentleman. Loki had agreed, laughing to himself that even though they had been as physically - and emotionally - intimate as any two people could possibly be, she could still insist on chivalry when it counted.

He disentangled himself from his bed, rising to prepare for the long day ahead. The dream was already fading from his mind, but Loki couldn't shake the sense of unease it had produced. He hoped it wasn't a portent for the rest of the day; it was going to be difficult enough to sit through the official announcement of Thor's upcoming coronation without the lingering sense of dread. He was finally going to get to spend some quality time with Sigyn for the first time in days. He refused to let anything ruin his plans.

Sigyn had just arrived home to get ready for the evening, when a young man arrived to deliver an enormous box from the dressmaker, Ranka.

She set the box on her bed and lifted the lid carefully, not sure exactly what to expect in the finished product. She had been to the dressmaker's shop several times since her first meeting, getting small adjustments and measurements taken for the process - yet she had never seen the full dress completed. She moved the paper inside the box aside, lifting the dress up and out.

Simply put, it was exquisite. In her wildest dreams - even as a child imagining her future bridal gown - Sigyn had never envisioned a dress as stunning as this one.

Fashioned from light gold silk, it was covered in row after row of gold embroidery, glittering even in the dim light from the windows. The neckline was cut to enhance her modest bust, giving her cleavage she had never been able to achieve before, culminating in sleeves that were in two pieces, made to leave her shoulders bare. The floor-length skirt was full and flowing, with layer upon layer of fabric both sheer and opaque, embroidered and not. A matching shawl in the bottom of the box completed the ensemble.

Sigyn's sole concession to the suggestions Loki had made to Ranka was the corseted waist. Made of overlapping pleats of fabric, it was a perfect mirror to Loki's formal clothing. Sigyn had kept quiet about the details of her dress to him, hoping that once he saw the finished product, he would think it lovely enough to overlook the fact that she had rejected nearly all of his ideas on color and style. She could only hope that he wouldn't be too disappointed, as it was much too late to do anything about it.

She didn't want him upset with her, not after the week they'd had. Most evenings, by the time they were both in his chambers together, there hadn't been enough energy between them to do more than just undress and collapse into bed - usually falling asleep in each other's arms without even a good night kiss. Her frustration and longing for intimacy had become acute enough to nearly drive her mad.

She was just about to draw a bath when there was a knock at the door. Answering it, she was surprised to find her mother on the other side.

"Oh, I'm so glad I caught you," said Dagmar, pushing past Sigyn into the apartment without waiting for an invitation. "I would have been waiting for you when you got home, but I seem to have misplaced my key."

"Oh, I'm sure it will turn up," said Sigyn, knowing full well that Dagmar's key was at the palace in Loki's chambers, well out of her mother's reach. "This is unexpected, Mother. I don't mean to be rude, but I need to get ready for the gala tonight, so..."

"I'm here to help, my dear. We haven't visited in a while, so I thought we might talk while you're getting ready."

"Oh, well, alright...that would be nice, Mother," said Sigyn, knowing it would be pointless to try and argue with her. "Make yourself at home while I take a quick bath."

Sigyn bathed quickly, putting on her robe before joining her mother in the sitting room. Handing her hairbrush and some hairpins to Dagmar, she sat on the sofa so she could help her with her hair.

"So, I take it things are still going well with Prince Loki?" asked Dagmar, brushing Sigyn's hair back and starting a braid on the side of her head.

Sigyn knew her mother was attempting to sound nonchalant, but she was obviously fishing for information. "Yes, of course. I wouldn't be attending the gala tonight as his guest if they weren't."

"There's no need for sarcasm, Sigyn. I just mean...are you still happy with him?"

"Very much so," said Sigyn, turning to look at Dagmar. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's nothing, really..." Dagmar let her words die out, clearly searching for the right way to phrase what she was really wondering. "It's just, well, I've heard rumors through friends that you've been spending the night at the palace quite a bit lately, and..."

"And you wish to know if I'm sleeping with him?" Sigyn hated to be blunt, but she was quickly losing her patience. She knew her mother would drag out the vague questions interminably if she allowed her to do so.

Dagmar drew in a sharp breath, attempting to act shocked. "Well, I don't want to be crass, Sigyn," she said, affecting a hurt tone in her voice. "I'm only curious, that's all."

Sigyn patted her mother's hand, looking up at her from her seat. "It is true, I have been staying overnight at the palace on occasion. And when I do, I stay with Loki in his chambers," she said, a small smile on her lips. "I do hope that's enough information to satisfy your curiosity."

"Yes, I believe you've said enough, dearest," said Dagmar, combing through another section of Sigyn's hair. "I trust he treats you well, then?"

"I have no complaints," said Sigyn, wishing her mother would drop her uncomfortable line of questioning. She wondered if there was something more to her curiosity. When Dagmar spoke again, she had her answer.

"I don't suppose he's ever hinted around about making your situation more...permanent?"

"Permanent? You mean marriage?"

"Well, yes," said Dagmar, finishing another braid and pinning it up. "It seems the next logical step in your relationship."

"Mother, it's only been a few months. Can Loki and I not just enjoy each other's company for a while longer?"

"Your father and I were only together a few months before he asked me to marry him."

"And it worked out beautifully for you, I know." Sigyn sighed. "Honestly Mother, I am perfectly content with the way things are right now. If Loki wishes to propose, then he will do so in his own time. For my part, I have no desire to rush things."

"Darling, I meant no offense," said Dagmar, brushing the last of Sigyn's hair and letting it fall down her back. "You can't blame me for thinking on these things. For wondering when I might have grandchildren to dote on."

"So that's what this is all about," said Sigyn with a laugh, rising to check her hair in the mirror. "You know, Edmund seems rather serious about Ingrid. Why not ask him about his intentions? He is just as capable of providing you a grandchild as I am."

"I know, Sigyn. Perhaps I will ask him. Ingrid is a lovely young girl, and she seemed quite taken with him when we met."

"I know she is glad you approve of her, Mother, as is Edmund." She walked to her room to retrieve the box with her gown, carrying it back into the sitting room. "Now...will you help me dress? A carriage has been arranged to pick me up soon. I want to be ready when it arrives."

Sigyn finished getting ready just as the carriage arrived to take her to the palace. Her mother had been in awe of her gown, remarking at its craftsmanship and how it made Sigyn look like a princess. The dress fit her like a glove, glittering and swaying as she moved; wearing it, Sigyn truly felt like royalty.

Looking through the carriage window as it pulled into the palace courtyard, she could see Loki waiting for her. He was dressed in his ceremonial armor, just as he had been the night of the Queen's birthday celebration. He was missing only his helmet, which Sigyn knew he preferred to wear only when necessary, as uncomfortable as it was. Yet even without it, he still took her breath away.

The carriage stopped, and she waited for the coachman to open the door and help her out. She took a deep breath as she exited the carriage, anxious for Loki to see her all dressed up.

The moment her feet touched the ground, Loki was at her side, taking her hand. He held her at arm's length, looking her over, his face a mask of undisguised consternation.

After a moment, she couldn't stand the scrutiny any longer. "Well, now would be the perfect time for a compliment," she said, indicating her gown.

"It's...quite beautiful," he said, with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's just not what I expected."

"What were you expecting?" she asked, trying to hide her disappointment at his reaction. "A different color perhaps?"

"Well, yes. I was quite clear to the dressmaker about my preferences."

"As was I. And seeing as I'm the one who has to wear it, I thought maybe my preferences outweighed yours," she said, hurt clear in her voice. She removed her hand from his, smoothing her palms down the front of her dress. "Is there nothing you like about it?"

"Forgive me, darling," he said, shaking his head and pulling her in to him. "The dress is beautiful, but you are more beautiful still. In fact," he said, leaning in close, "you look most beautiful wearing nothing at all."

Her stomach flipped at his words, and she couldn't help but smile. As frustrating as he was, he made it difficult for her to stay mad at him for long. "Well, I believe I can arrange for a private showing of that particular outfit later this evening."

"I'm looking forward to it," he said, holding his arm out for her. "More than you could possibly know."

To Sigyn's surprise, she and Loki were not seated together at dinner. Instead, she found herself seated by a woman named Svana, the wife of one of the delegates from Vanaheim. Loki was seated diagonally from her across the table, caught in a heated discussion with two of the other delegates for most of the meal. Now and again he would manage to steal a glance toward Sigyn and smile at her. She could only smile back, admiring his obvious conversational skills from afar.

Near the end of the meal, Odin stood at his seat, and the room quieted, awaiting his words. Sigyn listened halfheartedly, instead focusing her attention on Loki as his father made the announcement of Thor's approaching coronation.

To anyone else watching, Loki would not have appeared different from any other day. But Sigyn knew his face well, and she could tell - from the set of his jaw, his down turned eyes - that even though he had advance notice of the announcement, he was still displeased. As she watched, he downed the rest of his wine in one swallow, grabbing a passing servant to refill his glass the moment it was empty.

She hated to see him unhappy, but she knew her hands were tied. There wasn't anything she could do but make herself available for him when he needed her, whether he wanted to discuss his feelings or not.

Finally, the meal was complete, and the tables were cleared and removed to make way for the guests to visit and dance. As soon as he could, Loki found his way to Sigyn's side.

"Come, dance with me," he said, grasping her hand in his. "I can't take another moment of political diplomacy. I've barely been able to spend any time with you alone this evening, and I'm desperate for your company."

They made their way to the center of the room, and Loki pulled her close, swaying to the music. As they danced, Sigyn felt the crowd fade to the background, lost as she was in Loki's embrace.

"You look absolutely breathtaking tonight, love," he said, looking apologetic. "I am truly sorry if I didn't make you feel that way earlier. Honestly, if it would not be frowned upon in polite society, I would claim what is mine and ravish you right here."

Sigyn flushed, astounded that not only would he be so bold in a crowded room, but that his words still had such an effect on her. "I think you've had a bit too much wine," she said, glancing around to see if anyone could hear them. "You don't know what you're saying."

"Oh, don't I?" he asked. "Shall I be more specific?" He leaned in close to her ear, and proceeded to go into mind-numbingly explicit detail on what exactly he planned to do to her when they finally made it back to his chambers. Sigyn couldn't stop the small groan in her throat at the images he brought to her mind, leaning heavily on his shoulder to keep from buckling on her suddenly weak knees.

"You're positively wicked, teasing me like that," she whispered.

"Oh, I'm not teasing. Sleeping next to you every night this week with no relief - now that's teasing." He looked at her, sincerity in his eyes. "I fully intend to make up for lost time when we're finally alone." She could only smile back, her imagination running wild with possibilities.

They made a few more turns as the music wound down. Just as the song ended, a booming voice broke into their reverie. "Pardon me, brother, but may I have the next dance?"

Loki turned from Sigyn, giving Thor a withering look. "Thor, I love you - but I don't think you and I are properly matched as dance partners."

"You are quite humorous, brother. You know I mean to dance with your lovely companion."

Loki opened his mouth to speak and paused. His hold on her tightened ever so slightly, and Sigyn thought he was about to tell Thor no, but he turned to her instead. "What say you, darling? Would you mind dancing with my brute of a brother?"

Sigyn looked at Thor. "I would be most honored, Your Highness." She glanced back at Loki, and for a moment, she thought she saw a pained look cross his face, nearly undetectable. Then he smiled, and it was almost as though she had imagined it.

"Excellent," said Thor, taking Sigyn's hand. "Don't worry brother - just one dance and she will be returned to your company."

Sigyn extricated herself from Loki's embrace, kissing him on the cheek before being led away by Thor. A new song started, and she felt herself being swallowed up in Thor's arms.

Though Thor and Loki were nearly the same height, Thor's bulk made him feel so much more immense. Looking up at him, Sigyn felt as though she was dancing with a bear rather than a man.

"Sigyn, I am so glad we have this chance to talk without my brother hovering over us."

"I am too, although, he does not appear to be as happy as you are," she said, nodding towards Loki, who was standing at the side of the room, drinking more wine and watching every move they made as closely as a hunter would its prey.

Thor glanced in Loki's direction, a broad smile erupting on his face. Sigyn couldn't help but think just how truly handsome Thor was, even if he was Loki's complete opposite. "I would not worry about him. From what I've observed of the two of you, I'm confident one dance with another man will not tempt you from his side."

"You are much more observant than Loki would have me believe, Your Highness."

"My brother doesn't appreciate my talents as he should," said Thor with a laugh. "And please, call me Thor. If Loki loves you as much as I think he does, we are practically family. There is no need for formality with me."

"Alright. Thor it is." Practically family. Sigyn wasn't sure how to take that. Perhaps her mother was closer to the truth of Sigyn and Loki's relationship than she thought, but Sigyn refused to dwell on it.

For all of his bulk, Thor was surprisingly light on his feet while they were dancing, and Sigyn told him so.

"Being a member of the royal family does have its requirements. Dance lessons, etiquette lessons, history, politics...it never ends. I would rather spend every spare moment in the training room."

He smiled down at her as their dance took them directly past Loki. "I must admit, however, dancing is much more enjoyable with a partner such as you," said Thor, his voice loud. She was certain Loki heard him, as the scowl on his face only grew more pronounced as they passed.

"Now you're just flattering me. Was that in your lessons as well? How to charm a woman?"

"No, I come by that ability quite naturally." They made another turn, and Thor nodded toward Loki - still watching them from afar. "My brother on the other hand...he's never had an easy way about him when it comes to women. He has changed quite dramatically since he's been with you. I daresay he seems rather content."

"I would never presume to be the sole cause of his happiness."

"If not the only cause, then certainly the greatest. And by far the loveliest," he said, brushing a stray hair from her face.

Sigyn blushed. "And I thought Loki was the one with the silver tongue."

Thor paused, a pensive look on his face. "In all sincerity Sigyn, it's obvious to me - and my family - that Loki loves you dearly. His happiness is my happiness. It makes my heart glad to finally be able to tell you how grateful I am that he has you."

Sigyn looked into his eyes, the brightest blue she had ever seen, and realized that she had never met a more sincere person in her life. When this man spoke, he spoke only the truth. "I am equally grateful that I have him, Thor. I've truly never been happier."

The song ended, and Thor walked her back to Loki. "Brother," said Thor, "you are quite the fortunate man, having a companion as lovely and mannered as Sigyn in your life."

"I am most thankful, believe me," said Loki, reaching for Sigyn's hand. "I trust my brother had nothing but kind words for you about me?"

"Of course!" said Thor, answering for her and clapping Loki on the shoulder. He turned to Sigyn. "Thank you for the dance, my lady," he said, making a show of kissing her hand before turning to leave. "If you will excuse me, much as I loathe it, I believe I have more mingling to attend to." He winked at her, before he turned from them and disappeared into the crowd.

Loki pulled Sigyn in close, in a gesture slightly more possessive than loving. "I'm ready to make our excuses and leave this party. What say you, darling?" he asked, urgency in his voice.

"Won't we be missed?"

"I doubt it. Everyone here would rather visit with the soon-to-be-king than his lowly younger brother."

Sigyn knew he was trying to be lighthearted, but she could see the hurt in his eyes. "Well then, take me to your chambers. You promised quite an evening earlier; I'm anxious to see the truth of your words."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "With pleasure."

He clasped her hand in his, and they made their way to the exit. As they passed through the doorway, Sigyn happened to glance at the Royal Guard stationed there, just as his eyes widened in recognition.

"Sigyn?"

Sigyn stopped in her tracks, her hand nearly falling from Loki's before he turned back. "Völund?" She had only seen him a few times since their disastrous night together, but she knew him immediately.

He bowed to Loki. "Your Highness."

Momentarily speechless from shock, Sigyn finally found her voice. "Erm...V-Völund, may I introduce His Royal Highness, Prince Loki Odinson." She turned to Loki, who was eyeing the other man curiously. "Loki, this is Völund Ericson, a friend of my brother," she said, trying to keep her tone casual. She didn't elaborate on her own relationship with Völund, hoping he would take the hint and also keep quiet.

"It is a pleasure to be properly introduced to you, Your Highness," said Völund, before turning to Sigyn. "You look lovely tonight. I trust you are doing well?" he asked, pointedly glancing down at where she held Loki's hand.

"Uh, yes...very well," She felt Loki's grip on her hand tighten, his impatience getting the best of him. "And you? Are you still seeing that seamstress? I'm sorry, I've forgotten her name."

"Mábil. And yes, we're actually engaged to be married."

"Oh, that's wonderful, really wonderful," said Sigyn. "Congratulations."

"Yes, congratulations," said Loki, clearing his throat loudly. "Now, if you will excuse us, Völund, Sigyn and I have somewhere we need to be." He smiled at the guard before looking at Sigyn, his eyes boring into hers with barely disguised frustration.

Sigyn smiled at Völund apologetically. "It was a pleasure to see you again."

"And you as well, Sigyn." He nodded once more to Loki, "Your Highness."

Loki pulled at Sigyn's hand, gently but insistently, leading her quickly away and to his chambers. He didn't say another word to her the entire way, his silence deafening.

Once they were in his rooms, and the door was shut and locked behind them, Sigyn turned to Loki. "Something's troubling you," she said. "What is it?" She was afraid she already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it from him.

He walked back and forth in front of the fireplace, offhandedly making a gesture to bring the fire to life as he paced. Finally, he stopped, running his fingers through his hair as he turned to her.

"That guard. He was awfully familiar with you to merely be a friend of Edmund's. Did you fuck him?"

Sigyn gasped, shocked by the rudeness of his words. All of the wine Loki had consumed during the gala had clearly loosened his tongue and softened his manners. "What does it matter? I'm not with him. I'm with you."

"Just answer me. Did you fuck him?" he asked again, each word spit out through clenched teeth.

Sigyn took in a deep breath, steadying herself. "No. He fucked me," she said, wincing at the words. "Just once. Poorly and unpleasantly, I might add. Long before you and I ever met." She tilted her head, regarding him with wary eyes. "Loki, you know you weren't my first, and neither was I yours."

"Well, it's one thing to have the knowledge, but to put a face to it…" His words trailed off, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, as if fighting off an unpleasant headache. "Would that I had been your first," he said, almost under his breath. He stared at the floor, dejection and defeat marring his features.

"Well, I'm glad you weren't," she said.

His head shot up. "Why? Am I that terrible in bed?"

"Of course not," she said, sighing in exasperation. "Loki, my previous experience puts into sharp relief just how superior you are, in every way. Besides, there had to be at least one other woman there tonight who has been in your bed, but I'm not questioning you about her. I think I deserve the same courtesy."

Sigyn closed the distance between them, putting her arms around his waist. "Loki, look at me. I am yours now, and only yours."

She tilted his head up to her, looking him in the eyes. She watched as his anger melted away, replaced with something more akin to regret.

"Poorly and unpleasantly, huh? How bad was it?" he asked, sounding uncannily like a petulant child.

Sigyn smiled at him, happy to stroke his ego if it would improve his mood. "Awful. No, worse than awful. Abysmal. And quite...disappointing for me, if you take my meaning."

"Oh, I think I do," said Loki, pulling her in close, his voice low and his eyes suddenly heated with desire. "Are you saying he never had the pleasure of watching your face as you come undone?" he asked, stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Of hearing that sound you make right before, the little whimper that sounds as though you're weeping? Of feeling you shudder around him as you collapse, utterly sated and spent?"

At his words, Sigyn felt her face flush, all the heat in her body rushing to her center. "You clearly have," she said, her breath shallow.

"Oh, yes," he said. "What kind of a man would I be if I didn't satisfy you in bed?"

"The kind I would only sleep with once, obviously."

Loki grinned down at her, victorious in the knowledge of his supremacy.

"Now," she said, taking his hand, "no more talk of previous lovers. Take me to bed and make me forget they ever existed."

Without another word, he led her across the room, alternately kissing her and shedding his clothes as she reached behind her back to unbutton her gown. By the time they made it to the bed, they were both down to nothing, their clothing unceremoniously dropped to the floor in their wake.

"You have no idea how desperately I've wanted you this week," he said between kisses, as they fell onto the bed together. "It's been absolute torture."

"Oh believe me," she said, her hands alternately tangled in his hair and roaming his body. "I understand."

She pushed him back onto the bed, moving to straddle his legs before leaning over him for yet another kiss. She reached down between them...and pulled back from him in confusion.

"Is everything alright, love?" he asked, concern on his face.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," she said, looking down at his lap.

His eyes followed hers, growing wide in surprise to find his body decidedly relaxed and uncooperative - completely at odds with the frantic desire so evident in his words and actions.

"It must be all the wine," he said, blinking rapidly. "Come here, I only need a moment, I'm sure." He pulled her in close, rolling the two of them so he was pressing her into the bed. He began planting fervent kisses down her neck to her breasts, lavishing attention on them before giving up and moving off of her in frustration.

"I can't believe this!" He curled his hands into fists, slamming them down into the mattress.

She leaned over him, running her fingers through his hair in an effort to try and comfort him. "Darling, it's alright. It happens sometimes-"

"Not to me it doesn't!" he yelled, slapping her hand away. He jumped up, throwing on his robe and stalking back and forth in front of the bed. "This is ridiculous," he muttered, disappointment and embarrassment clear in his voice. "Not good enough even for this."

She watched him, feeling helpless. "Come here, love. It's enough if you just hold me tonight. It's been a long day-"

He stopped pacing, whirling to face her. He was so angry, he was completely oblivious to the tears spilling from his eyes and running down his cheek. "I'm sure if you hurry, that guard Völund is still at the gala," he said, pointing toward the door. "Maybe, if given a second chance, he can please you better than I can tonight."

"What? Why would you say-"

"Or better yet, why not find my brother," he continued, his words barely more than a hiss. "You certainly seemed quite happy in his arms earlier."

"Loki, that's enough," she said, her voice firm. "I want no one but you, and you know it."

They stared at each other across the bed, the space between them feeling immense. As she watched, all of the anger seeped out of him, and his shoulders fell in surrender.

She pulled the sheets back on the bed, settling herself in and patting the pillow next to her. "Now, come here."

Loki sighed in resignation, dropping his robe to the floor and getting back in the bed. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely audible. She didn't know if he was apologizing or criticizing himself, but she was grateful that he had at least calmed down a bit.

Sigyn gathered him in her arms, laying back and resting his head on her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair and patted his back, at a loss for what else to do. Eventually, she felt his body relax, and she realized he had fallen asleep.

She lay there for a long while before falling asleep herself, hoping against hope that the next day would seem a bit brighter for both of them.

A/N: In Chapter Eleven, Sigyn tells Loki that he can't stay with her at her apartment because, well...things got a little too loud last time and Edmund wasn't very happy. If you would like to read the extended version of that story (or as I call it, Chapter 10.5), you can go to my account on Archive Of Our Own (likeatumbleweed), and click on the story called Interlude. :)