Sigyn pulled her legs in as tightly as she could onto the bench in the alcove, soaking in the sun from the window and trying in vain to comfortably balance the book she was reading on her swollen belly. Just short of six months into her pregnancy, she was beginning to understand that any kind of comfort was going to elude her, at least until she had her body back to herself.

As soon as she was still, the baby decided to stretch out, painfully digging its feet into her ribs. She put the book aside and stood up, standing as tall as possible until it shifted once again. "You must have your father's legs, little one."

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out into the corridor and stared across to the doors of Loki's chambers; they had been sealed by Odin after Loki's death, as custom required. Four months later, Sigyn's heartache and longing for Loki hadn't eased in the slightest, and her compulsion to study within sight of his rooms was likely doing nothing to help.

Hearing footsteps, she sunk back into the alcove, rearranging herself in the window and hoping she hadn't been seen. No one ever came down that particular corridor anymore; hiding there gave her a welcome reprieve from the pitying looks everyone loved to bestow upon her.

"My mother thought I might find you here."

She looked up from her book to find Thor standing in the corridor. "I like it here. It's quiet."

"You come here," he said, glancing at Loki's chamber doors, "…because it's quiet?"

She smiled at him, ignoring his question and scooting aside so he could join her on the bench. "You know, I think you're worse than Edmund. You and I see each other nearly every day, and you always look worried about me – even more so lately. Are you still concerned about my health? The healer says everything is progressing nicely. I'm in no danger as far as she can tell."

"I know. I already spoke to her myself, just to be sure. You're obviously expecting now, and it all seems so much more…" – he paused, searching for the right word – "…real."

She had to laugh at that. "Well, if my level of discomfort is any indication, this baby is quite real, and becoming more real by the day. Is that why you're here, to confirm for yourself what the healer told you?"

"I've actually brought you something. I found this in my room this morning," he said, holding a leather-bound tome out to her, sheepishly wiping away a film of dust from its surface as he settled in next to her. "I vaguely remember my mother giving it to me years ago to study, but books never held my interest the way they did Loki's."

Sigyn took it from him, a small smile spreading over her face as she read the title. "Oh, it's about Alfheim! That was the next realm on my list to study."

"So I hear."

"Wait…did you talk to my tutor as well?"

This time it was Thor's turn to laugh. "Perhaps."

The very next day after she found out that Sigyn was expecting, Frigga had relieved Sigyn of her handmaiden's duties, informing her that her only job from that day forward was to stay well and produce a healthy baby. Sigyn had spent the following two weeks nearly crippled with boredom, until she had finally asked Thor for help. With his encouragement, she had convinced the queen to allow her to study the nine realms with an eye to becoming a diplomat one day, just as she'd always desired.

The citizens of Asgard could give her all the sympathetic looks they wanted – she wasn't going to sit around waiting for any of them to actually help her. She was determined to prove to everyone that she was entirely capable of raising a child on her own if she had to.

Thor took a deep breath, pulling an envelope from his pocket and holding it out to her. "This also came for you today."

She recognized her mother's handwriting, and set the envelope aside without opening it.

"Do you not wish to know what it says?"

"I don't need to open it to know what it says. The same as every other letter she's sent. I love you. I miss you. Forgive me. I just need to know if you are well."

Thor merely raised an eyebrow at her.

"Don't look at me that way. I always write her back, you know. I am well. The baby grows and I along with it. I love you, but forgiveness will take time."

"And how long do you intend to punish her for her actions?"

She punched him in the shoulder, her fist bouncing off of him like a leaf off a stone. "I don't need a lecture from you."

"Sigyn, it does no one any good to allow offenses to fester. I learned that lesson the hard way – I would hate for you to do the same."

She turned away from him, unable to stand the sorrow in his face. "So, they have the crown prince delivering letters now?" she asked, attempting to change the subject. "Or is there more to this visit?"

"There is something I wish to discuss with you."

Something in his voice caught her attention, and she looked back, surprised at what she saw. He looked tense – whatever it was he wanted to discuss must have been unpleasant. "What is it?" she asked.

He tapped his fist nervously on his leg. "Sigyn, I'm not sure how to say this-"

"Just say it. It's can't be that bad, can it?" He just looked at her, his silence unnerving. "Is it about the baby?" she asked, wrapping her arms around herself defensively.

"In a way, yes."

Her heart rose to her throat at the anxiety in his eyes, and she was suddenly certain of what he was going to say. "It's exactly what I've feared, isn't it? Your father – he means to take it from me after it's born," she said. "Please…please don't let him-"

"No! No, of course not," said Thor, shaking his head. "No one is taking your child from you, I swear it."

Sigyn heaved a sigh of relief. In response to her agitation, the baby had started to move once again; she grimaced at a particularly hard kick.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

"No, it's just, well…" she started. Without thinking, she grabbed Thor's hand and placed it on her belly.

The baby shifted again, and Thor's eyes went wide. "Incredible," he said, his normally booming voice soft. "Loki should be here for this." He shook his head. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have said that."

"It's alright. I agree…he should be here for this." They stayed that way for a moment, until the baby's movements slowed and finally stopped altogether. "I'm sorry if that was too forward, I just wanted to share it with someone," she said as Thor pulled his hand away. "Now, what was it you wanted to discuss?"

"Sigyn, I know you and Loki weren't truly married before he died."

"No, but your mother was right. Passing myself off as his widow has saved me so much trouble. I can't imagine the looks I would get if everyone knew I was carrying a bastard child."

"Don't say that. This child isn't a bastard. You must know, had Loki lived he would have married you, pregnant or not."

"What choice have I but to believe that?" She rubbed the ring on her hand anxiously. She had long since grown accustomed to the energy flowing from it and keeping it on her finger; it had become a comfort to her, helping to stave off the loneliness that threatened to creep in during the long nights spent in solitude.

"As a widow, you have your necessary mourning period. But once that is over, you will be free to – for lack of a better word – remarry."

"Yes, but by that time this baby will be several months old. Not many suitors are lining up to court a woman with a small infant. And a half-jotun infant? I daresay my chances of finding someone in Asgard willing to marry me will be nonexistent."

"But someone with more intimate knowledge of the situation might be willing to overlook circumstances."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You sound as though you have someone in mind-"

"I do. I'm asking if you would consider marrying…me."

All the blood drained from her face. "What? No, absolutely not." She stood quickly, knocking the books from the bench in her haste.

"Just listen to what I have to say-"

"No! I can't do that! Thor, I don't, I-I couldn't…" She trailed off, unable to finish the thought, pacing back and forth in the corridor. She caught her breath and swung to face him. "Thor, I don't love you that way. I could never…lay with you."

"And I wouldn't ask it of you, Sigyn. You are like a sister to me. Please understand, I only want to do right by my brother, to care for you and your child the way he would were he here. Nothing more than that."

"Your father, he would never agree to it. He may allow me to keep the child, but he would see me banished before he would allow us to marry."

"Once I am king, he would not be able to stop me," said Thor, rising from the bench and joining her in the corridor.

"Of course," said Sigyn, looking up into his eyes. "And as king, you would require an heir. Am I to believe you would allow this child to be heir to the throne of Asgard? The half-jotun child of the man you were raised to believe was your brother? That would never happen – even if it's what you wanted, Asgard would rebel at the mere thought."

He just stared at her, silent and immovable.

"One day you will want a child of your own. From Sif, from me – it doesn't matter. A true Aesir heir. And this child would be pushed aside in favor of that child, and made to feel inferior in every way. And we all know how well that worked out the last time that happened."

Thor sighed in frustration. "I'm not saying there wouldn't be problems to overcome, Sigyn. I'm not even asking for an answer today. I only want you to consider it. You can make a final decision once your mourning period is over. Please, think about it."

Sigyn went back into the alcove and hastily gathered her book from the bench and floor. "I promise to think about it, but don't expect the answer to be what you want." She hurried off down the hall toward her chambers, the one place left in Asgard she knew she could truly be alone.

"Are you quite finished struggling? Your attempts to remove your bonds are laughable."

Loki stilled against the rock he was shackled to, his senses on high alert. His arms were stretch out to the sides, chained at a height that allowed neither standing nor lying down. His captors had stripped him of all his clothing, removing even his dignity in an attempt to break him, and his knees dug painfully into the ground.

Weak and ravenous when they found him, he hadn't the strength to fight them off physically; using any kind of sorcery had been impossible. What little food and water he had been given was revolting, and barely enough to keep him alive, much less gain any kind of advantage on them. He'd had the presence of mind, however, to stay silent about who he was and where he was from.

None of the creatures he'd had the misfortune of interacting with had sounded friendly, but this new voice had a hard edge that had been missing from all the others. It demanded caution, but Loki wasn't going to be defeated without using the last weapons he had left to him – his mind and his words.

"Ah, the big wolf, come to take care of his master's problem once and for all. Has he finally run out of patience with me?" he asked, too weak to even raise his head and look his new visitor in the eye.

"Defiant until the end. Your strength would be admirable, were it not so misguided."

"Let no one say I went to my death without a fight."

"Death?" said the voice, alarmingly close. "Now that would be too easy. No, my master has yet to exhaust his ways of making you talk."

From the corner of his eye, Loki saw a hand snake out of the darkness – a hand with too many fingers – and grab him by his chin, forcing his head up. The face that greeted him was hideous; though partially covered, what remained visible was nothing but gray skin and sharp teeth. Loki had to fight to keep his disgust hidden.

"The clothing we removed from you – garments like those are not wasted on someone unimportant. You are more powerful than you let on – let's find out how powerful, shall we?"

A searing pain shot through Loki's head where the creature's hand touched him, and he could physically feel him inside his innermost thoughts. Every memory he had was laid bare for the taking and using, and he was helpless to oppose it.

The creature chuckled darkly. "Such anger and hatred in you – especially for the man with a single eye. Your father I see – king of your realm. And you a prince…oh, but only the second prince. The one in the red cape. Your brother? Anger for him as well."

Loki remained silent, every muscle in his body tensed.

"But surely there are those you care for, those whose safety would be very motivating for you."

He grabbed Loki's face tighter, and Loki struggled to keep from crying out.

"This one, your mother perhaps? But wait…now who is this? Ah yes, these thoughts are much more pleasant," he said, rolling his tongue obscenely across his lower lip.

With the last of his energy, Loki tried to wrench his head away, but the creature's grip was too strong. "Please…please, I'll do whatever you want. She is innocent."

At last, the hand on his face pulled away, and Loki slumped forward against his bonds.

"There is a relic of great importance on a distant planet. Help us retrieve it, and you may yet live to see her again."

The creature started to walk away, turning back after a few steps. "But if you fail us – she will suffer first."

Sigyn shifted in her bed, unable to fall asleep. Her conversation with Thor had left her unsettled, and she had come back to her rooms hoping to rest for a bit. It seemed as though the baby always chose the most inopportune times to be the most active, however – usually when Sigyn was trying to lie still – and that afternoon was no exception.

Her stomach growled as she sat up, and she decided that if she couldn't indulge in a nap, then she would instead treat herself to something from the kitchens. Ingrid was always more than happy to give her whatever she wanted when she visited. Though she held no lasting resentment toward Ingrid, Sigyn knew it was Ingrid's way of ensuring she stayed in her good graces.

Just as she reached the stairwell, she heard rapid footsteps descending from the royal apartments above. She barely had time to move to the side before Sif appeared. The warrior stopped the moment she saw Sigyn, her eyes wet with tears – and ablaze with anger.

"Well, if it isn't Loki's widow. That serpent is dead, and still he causes nothing but grief."

"You've spoken to Thor I take it."

"Yes," she said, genuine hurt in her eyes. Beneath her tough exterior, Sigyn knew Sif truly loved Thor, as much as she herself had loved – still loved – Loki.

"Then he must have told you I didn't accept his proposal."

"He said you hadn't accepted yet. That you were, however, considering it." She inched closer, her presence imposing. "Do not mistake my sympathy for your situation for weakness, Sigyn. I don't like to lose."

"Had I known I was competing, I certainly would have chosen a less formidable opponent."

"Don't you see? It isn't you I'm fighting against, Sigyn. It's Loki. Dead or not, Thor's greatest weakness will always be his little brother." Before Sigyn could reply, Sif turned and continued down the stairs.

Sigyn had spent countless hours with Sif over the past months, getting to know her better along with Thor, and it pained her to think she had – through no fault of her own – alienated one of the few people left in Asgard who didn't pity her.

Even as the thought crossed her mind, an idea came to her. There was one person she could reach out to – someone who loved her and would be thrilled to have her company once again.

She went back to her chambers, grabbed some parchment and wrote out a quick note. If she hurried, it could still be delivered by the end of the day.

Mother,

Come to the palace tomorrow, midday. I love you. I miss you. I need you.

- Sigyn

A/N: In case anyone is interested, I have recently posted two one-shots that go along with this story: Interlude and Unburdened. Just click on my pen name to find them. :)