Sigyn sighed wistfully as she danced across her little house and into the world. The back door was wide open and sunlight washed in like waves, warm and jubilant, kind and soft, much like Sigyn herself.

She pranced into the open world and opened her arms to the sky. Below the garden she heard a woman singing gently: Butterfly mine, with pretty wings. Red and brown and red and blue. Can't you find any of your flowers?

Sigyn smiled. She leaned over the crumbling rock wall that encased her grassy sanctuary and glanced towards the direction of the music. The land was terraced, so it was easy to find those below her. There was a woman brushing a large, wooly dog. Its hair covered its eyes and its tail wagged slowly as her brush ran through its thick, thick fur.

"Good morning, Esilda," Sigyn shouted down. Esilda looked up, mouth agape in surprise of being overheard. She blushed heavily.

"Good morning, m'lady,' Esilda dipped her head. "How fare thee on this beautiful morning?"

"Splendidly! How does your heart warm to the sun today?"

"With open arms," Esilda said. She set her brush on a rock beside her and pushed the dog forward to encourage him to leave. He shook himself and grunted happily, before trotting off towards the direction of the woman's house.

Sigyn leaned away from the edge. She brushed her long, copper hair over her shoulder and twirled. Her yellow and lilac dress wrapped around her legs as she spun. She let her hands fall to her side and she promptly fell to her knees in the grass.

Asgard was most idyllic that day. The peace would not last, as it never does, and Sigyn knew that; however, she proceeded to love the present as it was.

She also knew she could not stay in the grass forever. Around her flowers bloomed and beez buzzed. She loved her garden, and she loved her home. From where she sat, which was quite near the middle, she saw a wooden easel standing tall in the farthest reach overlooking the lake. Besides it was a tree stump where she would hold her paints. Around it were blue and yellow flowers and little white ones that didn't belong, but Sigyn left them anyway. A small path created by flat rocks laid down by Loki curved from the door to the easel. The ground was mostly even; behind her there was a little rise in the earth, but it did not bother her. The rocky fence lining the garden was old and worn, but gave Sigyn the feeling of house that had been loved and in lived in.

She rose and looked towards the lake. She lifted her eyes and saw the keep, where her husband studied and pored over endless amounts of tomes.

"Loki," she whispered. She strode then, away from her sanctuary, dress billowing behind her, and she was off towards her king, the great Loki Laufeyson.

The path outside her house was cobblestone. It wound down hill then up and to the left. It rounded the lake. It was lined with mountain flowers and dense, green grass. There was snow in some parts that lay in patches, but it was of no import to Sigyn. She didn't much care for the snow, but that had always been part of Asgard; although, she never truly experienced winter like that of Loki's homeland or the seasons in Midgard.

She strolled calmly along the path. The sun caught her eyes and made her hair shine like fire against the landscape. She knew if anyone were to look from the bridge to the keep in her direction, they would likely see her against the heavy greenery.

She sang quietly to herself. A song her mother had sung to her as a child often stuck to her ears: "First we looked at each other, then around us. We had not a care in the world. And the nature was so wonderful and the lark trilled-"

"Sigyn, my dear lady, is that you?"

Sigyn looked up quickly and her lips tightened. Jane stood there, plain as day, brown hair braided and curled elegantly. She wore a long, green dress with draping sleeves and a breastplate tight around her bosom. She was stunning, though still rather dull to Sigyn's eyes, as she was simply a mortal.

"It is indeed, Jane Foster," Sigyn dipped her head. "Why might I be seeing you on this worn path?"

"I wanted to say hi," Jane smiled that dull smile of hers. "It's been a while."

"Truly," Sigyn continued forward. Jane spun awkwardly and followed closely. "You spend quite a bit of time with His Grace and his son in the keep."

"I do," Jane confirmed. She weaved her fingers together. "It beats being on Earth, let me tell you that."

"Really?" Sigyn moved faster. "Earth seems much more interesting than being stuck in this halcyon paradise. With your wars and your technology you speak so fondly of."

"I guess it's different for the both of us. Earth is something I'm used to, while Asgard what you're used to. You know?"

"It is known."

"So, I guess I'd rather be here with Thor than bored in an apartment waiting for my shows to come on." Jane sighed and shook her head. Sigyn glanced her up and down, and took in her every detail. Jane seemed to change on a daily basis, though still somehow managed to remain so boring. She drained Sigyn.

"How is life in your beautiful like home?" Jane prodded, rather annoyingly. Sigyn rolled her eyes inwardly and clenched her jaw.

Feigning a kind smile, she said, "It is lovely. The flowers and birds keep me company when my Lord husband is away, and I never grow tired of taking in the views."

"You should visit us in the castle more often," Jane buggered. Sigyn wanted to squish her like a gnat.

"I quite enjoy the village. I will have to decline your offer."

"Suit yourself, my lady. It would be nice, is all."

How long is this walk to the damned keep? Sigyn thought angrily. Jane, you are a stupid mongrel. I should feed you to Fenrir or let the snakes choke you of your final breath.

Eventually, the pair made their way around the seemingly endless lake and to the bridge that would take her to Loki. Sigyn said a silent prayer that her cottage was closer to the keep than the other villages she could have chosen to live. Asgard was a massive realm.

Sigyn waved Jane away when she neared the entrance to the library. Loki would be found inside, she knew, as he spent more than half of his free time studying. If he was not there, Sigyn would be damned and would lift the castle off its ground to find him.

Before she entered, she smoothed her dress, ran her hand against the top of her head to smooth down stray hairs. Her hair was knotted neatly in a braided bun at the nape of her neck. It was her favorite hairstyle; it was elegant, but Sigyn could easily shift into a fight and see clearly. She often planned herself that way, although she was not wearing an outfit that would make battle easy.

Sigyn rested her hands on one of the doors and pushed it open slowly. The door made a low, wooden sound as she entered. She let the door fall shut behind her as she strode down the aisles of tables and heavy bookshelves.

Loki sat near the end, books around him like a castle. He was bent over something, hands moving quickly and body shifting almost nervously. He was drawing, Sigyn knew. He was squeamish when he created artwork. He said it was a concentration method, and Sigyn could believe that. She was quite the same when she painted.

"Hello, my love," Loki murmured deeply, without removing his eyes from the paper. Sigyn dragged a chair to face him on the other side of the table and sat quietly.

She could not clearly see what he was working on. Books blocked her view and his hand covered half of the paper. However, minutes after she sat, he grunted and crumpled up the sketch and tossed it across the library. It flew at lightning speed and stuck into the wall.

Sigyn blinked. She turned as the paper flew, then turned back to her husband. He sat back, hand covering his face in deep thought. He was spread across the chair, legs straight before him and body slowly sinking to the floor.

"Love," Loki said after a moment of silence. "What brings you?"

"Loneliness, perhaps?" Sigyn whispered. She knotted her fingers together and took a nervous breath. He was obviously distressed, and that was never a kind sight.

"Lonely, is she?" Loki sniggered to himself. "Comes to disturb my peace." He continued to laugh under his breath. His eyes never met hers; he only stared at the table top, where the sketch had rested just a small while earlier.

"What has gotten under your skin?" Sigyn growled. She would not have him this way.

Loki looked up them, eyebrows raised innocently. His eyes widened and he took his hand from his face and sat straight in the chair.

"What has gotten beneath my…? Why, this whole damned realm has, my sweet queen. You see," Loki leaned even closer, "my brother paid me a visit earlier this morning. And he was the cocky boy he's always been. That spurred thoughts as I drew, and how much I truly hate the idiot."

"And his beast of a wife?"

"Her too. That's not important now. What is important, is that someday he will be killed, and it may be at my own hands."

"You've certainly plotted a storm, haven't you?"

"Oh, I'm devious. That's just me."

Loki slammed his hands on the table and suddenly his eyes went ablaze again, with a fire that hungered to consume all that lay before him.

Sigyn gently rested her hand atop his and the fire flared momentarily, but extinguished shortly after.

"You deserve a bit of rest," Sigyn said softly. Loki's shoulders lowered and his eyes glazed over as he listened to her sweet words.

"We may feast if you wish; alone, of course. You do not need to be disturbed further, and I apologize deeply for interrupting you. If you are not hungry, we can rest beneath the sun on the terrace or we can sing songs together, whatever you would like to ease yourself. I am here and at your service, my good husband."

"It is true, I need a break. We should walk, far away, into the forest or something of the like. I need you and you only."

"Me and myself?"

"Truly."