Erna took Loki's words to heart and decided to resume her training in earnest. She engaged one of the armsmasters as a personal instructor and garnered a corner of the practice field for her own use. They agreed on three or four mornings a week and just making the decision left her buoyant. If anyone thought it unusual, they kept their opinions to themselves.

The first morning she joined the other warriors at practice, she did get a fair number of looks, but nothing openly hostile or rude. Part of her wished her father could be present just to rub her newfound power in his face. It might have been a petty thought, but she didn't care.

To commemorate her first week, Loki surprised her with a brand new staff. When he presented it to her after dinner, she couldn't stop staring at the rich red hue of the wood. It was much more impressive than her old weapon, with gold runes inscribed along its length.

"Loki, this is gorgeous! Thank you. I'll keep it safe for ceremonial occasions."

"It's meant to be for your everyday use."

"But it's far too beautiful to abuse in the practice arena. I wouldn't want to destroy it."

"Little one, I took great care making this for you. It's imbibed with any number of potions and enchantments. It's lighter, stronger, and yes, more beautiful than any other staff. I wanted you to have something worthy of a queen."

"You made this for me?" She looked up at him from her place on the couch, eyes wide with surprise. Before he knew it, she'd laid the staff aside and pulled him into a strong hug.

"Of course."

"This is the best present I've ever received."

A flush crept across his face and his embarrassed stammer was another surprise. Loki was possibly the most confident person she'd ever met and to see him on seemingly unsure footing was new. "I… I just wanted you to have a fine weapon."

Pulling back, she wanted to look him in the eye before she spoke again. "You are amazing, Loki. I can't begin to thank you enough for this."

"It was nothing."

She put her hands on her hips and looked up at him through narrowed eyes. "It most certainly wasn't nothing. You just told me you went to a lot of effort to make this for me and I won't have you self-deprecating."

"Is that an order from my queen?" He surprised her when he didn't immediately amend his statements, rather he seemed almost offensive, albeit in a playful way.

"It most certainly is. I'll not have the craftsman that made me such a beautiful present lessen his own work because he hasn't learned to take a compliment." As soon as the stern words left her mouth though, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him close once again. "I love it, Loki. Thank you so much."

"You are most welcome, little queen. I'm so happy you like it."

"Love it," she corrected.

"I'm so happy you loveit." They stayed like that for several more minutes, each lost to their own thoughts, before beginning their nightly bedtime rituals.

-XXX-

"Ottar, what am I doing wrong?" She was more than a little frustrated and tried not to let it show in her voice. A month in, and she still wasn't able to bring off the maneuver without almost tipping over. Something about her balance seemed to be off since she resumed her training.

"You're not keeping the opposite foot and leg properly grounded, Erna." On the first day she'd insisted that he call her by her name, rather than any honorific. It just made things easier. "They must be rooted down or you'll keep faltering. Try it again."

She repeated the moves for what felt like the hundredth time, but once the staff made solid contact with the dummy's left arm, she only wavered a bit on her feet. It would take practice, but now that Ottar had pointed out her mistake, it could be corrected. Newly cheerful, she turned back to her instructor, but soon found the reason for his sudden silence.

Loki stood beside him, an enigmatic smile on his patrician face. "You've already made impressive progress, my queen." He closed the gap between them in a few long strides, and continued in a low voice. "I'm not sure I like how familiar your instructor is with you, calling you by your given name."

"My training, my rules. You don't have to like it, but you have to respect that, okay?"

"Well I don't like it, but I suppose all I can do is register my dislike and move on." And apparently moving on meant stepping even closer to her. "Could I beg a kiss from my wife, please?"

"Loki, I'm a sweaty mess!"

"I'm fully cognizant of your current situation, little one. I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't prepared for it."

Laughing at his ridiculous formality, she flung her arms around his neck and pulled him down into an enthusiastic kiss. She made sure to press as much of her sweaty body against him as possible. But when they broke apart, the amusement she expected wasn't on his face. Instead, he seemed to possess a focused intensity it took her a moment to pinpoint.

She hissed her question at him, making sure nobody could hear it. "Loki, is this turning you on?" Suddenly she was very thankful for the way his robe strategically draped over his crotch.

"Are you surprised that I'm having a natural response to seeing your breast heaving with exertion and you glistening with sweat? It's not an uncommon occurrence, although I will say you're wearing entirely too many clothes for my liking."

"Loki," she shot him a warning tone. "We are nothaving sex on the practice field. Absolutely not."

"I can make it to where nobody sees us."

"And if your concentration slips at an inopportune time, then I shudder to think what the result would be. No thank you." She couldn't believe they were actually having this conversation.

"It would be my aim to have you shudder with pleasure." They stared at each other for a few tense moments before he relented. "But if that's off the table, as you say, then I feel I must entertain you by other means." He tapped her quarterstaff and gave her a playful smile. "At the ready, little elf."

"You mean to offer me instruction?"

"I mean to offer you a fight."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Loki."

"And why not?"

"You have decades more experience than I do and you've successfully led troops into battle. If you let me win, everyone will know it and it will weaken your position. If you beat me, it would likely humiliate me in front of the court. As I see it, there's no good to be found here."

"Who's to say I would let you win?"

"I can't beat you in a fair fight!"

"I don't fight fair and nor should you, little one. If it's between you getting maimed or killed and something as impermanent as honor, I expect you to employ every trick that cunning little mind of yours can come up with." He paused and pondered her before continuing. "Actually, I do wish to offer you instruction. I fear that while Ottar's intentions are good, he's teaching you the kind of dross that Thor believes in."

"Don't go in for duty and honor, do you?"

"You have a duty to me, little one. To come home to me in one piece. A time will come when I will have to go to battle, that's inevitable. But would you rather me worry about my opponent's honor or not making you a widow?"

"I don't like that kind of talk, Loki." She tried to walk away from such an unpleasant conversation, but he gently grabbed her elbow before she got too far.

"You may not like it, but it is a reality, my stubborn little queen. I would see you fully educated and prepared." Part of his heart broke when he noticed the tears shining in her eyes. He might have taken it a bit too far, but he believed every word of what he'd told her. Fighting was dirty and brutish and he couldn't have her concerned with proper battle etiquette if she ever had to defend herself. He couldn't even contemplate what losing her would feel like.

He pulled her into an intense embrace and calmed her before he spoke again. "I'm not trying to upset you, Erna."

"I know. I just… I don't like thinking about you going to war."

"And I don't like thinking about you not having every available tool in your arsenal, should you find a need for them."

After several breaths, he felt her relax in his arms. "How do I know you'll be a good instructor? Do you have any references?"

"You know that scar on my left forearm?"

"Yes." She knew it well. It terrified her that he might be put in another situation that would leave him with a five inch gash anywhere on his body.

"If I wouldn't have employed an illusion to distract my opponent at the last minute, that blow wouldn't have ended up on my arm. I would likely have died."

"But I don't have magic."

"No, but I can get you thinking about creating your own advantages. Erna, I would like to teach you what I can, and I'm appalled I didn't think of it sooner."

She pulled away and looked up at him, jaw set with determination. "Don't go easy on me."

"You're just learning, little one. Of course I'm going to go easy on you, but there's no shame in it. We all started somewhere."

She was finished talking about it. Curiosity tempered with a little bit of pride drove her to a nearby practice ring, no more than a wooden circle hammered into the dusty earth of the practice field. She wanted to show him what her hard-won practice had earned her and more than anything she wanted him to be proud of her. Not in the condescending way that many men had, showing pride in their wives for the most mundane of tasks normally performed by a man, but real genuine pride in what she'd accomplished.

They turned and faced one another as a ripple of excitement came over the whole yard. She noticed the clang of weapons abate and small clumps of men started to gather around them. They all looked reluctant to show too much interest, unsure of what was about to happen, yet unable to ignore it. She did her best to tune them all out.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she took her stance, feeling particularly idiotic, as her husband was unarmed. But she knew he was no less lethal this way and was likely festooned with daggers beneath his layers of clothing.

Before they had a chance to agree to start, he was moving. He caught her left side unguarded and landed a stinging slap against her bicep. "Lesson one, little queen, is to always be on guard for an attack. If someone truly wants to do you harm, they won't wait until you're ready for them."

"Gods, is this going to be the whole fight? You giving me pearls of wisdom as you run circles around me?"

He chuckled darkly. "If you don't let me run circles around you, I won't lecture."

Instead of replying, she chose to simply watch him, wary for any signs of movement. But after a moment of stasis, she decided to go on the offensive first, rather than let him pull a similar stunt. She did her best not to signal her intent with her eyes, keeping them focused on him as she moved.

Erna feinted right and was pleased to see him move to defend that side, before twirling around and bringing her staff into satisfying contact with his left shin. The blow likely did little damage, and even if it had, he showed no signs of it with a huge grin plastered across his face. "Well done, my queen!"

Again, she chose to stay silent as the started to stalk around each other in a circle. When he was ready, he moved so quickly she temporarily lost sight of him, but felt his cloak brush her side as he moved around. Instinctively, she rolled to the opposite side, just wanting away from the green blur. At first she thought she'd gotten away, but mid-roll one ankle was yanked away from her and she ended up sprawled on her stomach.

Loki leaned over her, that shit-eating smile still on his lips. "Excellent idea, but when you make such a maneuver, you leave your limbs vulnerable to attack."

She rolled over onto her back, breath already heaving in her chest from the exertion. "This is going easy on me?"

He leaned closer, so only she could hear his reply. "If you'd like, I can go hard on you later, in a completely different context."

Erna saw he was still aroused, and frantically searched for a way to use it to her advantage. Nothing came to mind that wouldn't adversely affect his plans for them that night. A groin shot would likely give her an advantage, but she wasn't willing to take it quite that far.

Getting to her feet, she faltered and clutched her side. As expected, Loki rushed to her aid. "Little one," was all he managed to get out before she moved. She ignored the pang of guilt at her treachery, but knew deep down he would approve.

Already bent over, she was able to piston into his midsection, nearly knocking him off his feet in his unguarded state. Before he could recover, she whirled around him and thwacked her staff against the small of his back. He caught her coming back around though, and she earned a blow on her hip for allowing him to anticipate her path.

It went on in this manner for several more minutes, Loki only earning a few more hits than she did. Even though she knew she'd be dead if they were truly fighting and he was at full capacity, she couldn't help but feel satisfaction every time she saw him register surprise at her choice of attack.

Body stinging from Loki's slaps, she pulled back, readying herself for another go. She hadn't used the dirt in the eye trick yet. But he interrupted her scheming, holding up his hands in a truce. "That's enough for now, little queen. I know you won't stop unless you collapse, so it's my duty to ensure that doesn't happen."

He gave her a small bow and she did the same, signaling their match was at an end. The boisterous applause that broke out amongst the men startled her. She truly had forgotten that they weren't alone. And when she looked out across the grizzled and scarred faces, she was happy to see none looked as if they pitied her. They respected the effort she'd put into the match, despite the fact that Loki had clearly been the victor.

Done with the civilities, Loki pulled her into a hug once they exited the ring. He bent and crushed his lips to hers, all the while murmuring how pleased and proud he was of his wife. She again forgot they had an audience until some of the bolder men started to cheer again.

"Take me to our chambers," she whispered against his skin.

Rather than replying, he began striding back to the palace, his dust-covered queen in his wake.