(SIGYN)

I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about our trek to Don with the children, but Loki took us at a slow pace so I could at least enjoy the scenery this time and not worry about falling off my borrowed horse with Narvi. Loki and Vali charged ahead, but my chosen transportation was lethargic and had a general nonchalant attitude; it helped me not tense up with every unexpected movement. Narvi complained that we fell behind, but he ultimately agreed with me that it was better to be sluggish than feel sick.

We approached the city after three days of travel, and Loki assured me we would have care for the children so we could attend Regin's river ceremony without issue. The idea of returning to the court hall sent flutters through my belly. Had it changed at all? Would I recognize any of the girls who helped me get ready, or were they all married themselves now?

Vali and Narvi chirped with excitement once we crossed the gates and insisted on showing me down the market street as if I'd never seen it before. I humored them; after all, they were in need of some new garments for their growing bodies and I yearned to fill our home with more books. It wasn't quite midday when we arrived, so we had a few hours to spare before I'd have to ready myself to be seen. I missed Grid terribly, but it would've felt wrong to drag her along with the children in tow.

As if he could sense my homesickness, Freyr approached us in the middle of the city with open arms, kneeling to be in the boys' eyeline. "Sveinar Lokison—you've grown since I last saw you."

"Uncle Freyr," they yelled in unison, racing to his side. Vali nearly tackled him while Narvi stopped short and beamed, waiting to be pet on the head with affection.

"My, it feels like ages since we've seen you." I snickered while closing the gap between us. "And you're whiter that you used to be."

"Aye—the battle's cleared more of my youth away," he said while stroking his beard. "Where might I find Loki?"

I pointed behind me with a kick of my head and wrestled with keeping Vali in one place with both hands on his shoulders. "He's making a few trades. Wrote many of his lessons into books to leave some of the other sorcerers."

Freyr's eyes widened, but not from surprise. His smirk hinted at pride. "I'm glad to hear it."

"I take it you'll be officiating this evening for young Regin? When I last saw him, he was only a child."

He nodded. "If I don't see Loki before you do, please have him meet me at the fountains again before the ceremony. I could use his help again."

I wasn't certain what he referred to in terms of help, but Loki would surely know what Freyr meant. A nod sufficed just as Vali broke free and charged ahead to the open city center with Narvi close behind. I gasped and reached for them, but Freyr kept me in place.

"I do hope you plan to stay through the next few days," he said, clearly not worried about the boys getting into any trouble. His words simultaneously calmed me and jarred me with some hidden message.

"Is there another festivity the day after tomorrow?"

He locked eyes with mine. "Vanaheim elects a second senator in Hriedmar's absence. Your family is honorary Vanir and should have a say."

I couldn't place where my heart finally settled and wondered if it ever really would. Danger was everywhere. Peace was but a fantasy. But the future ahead was the only way forward.

Without Loki to protest the plans, I made the executive decision. "We'll stay for that, then. See you this evening, Freyr."

(LOKI)

Sigyn and I dropped the children at the same house where they stayed before, which gave us a chance to breathe in the crisp evening air with nothing but quiet surrounding us. I took her hand firmly as we walked to the center of the city, conversing without real conversation. Her beating heart through her palm said enough, as I presumed mine did as well.

We didn't bother feigning grandeur with illusions of fancy attire—we appeared as we did when we arrived, simple and satisfied. I preferred her that way. The most we did was wash up and retie our omnipresent plaits to prove we were making some kind of effort to appear more than exhausted parents.

She sighed when the white house of the fountains came into view. "I suppose Freyr wouldn't want me to stay with you, correct?"

"I truly don't know." I squeezed her hand hard. "If it were up to me, you wouldn't leave my sight again."

She finished the short journey with me and bid me goodbye with a kiss on my cheek, standing on tiptoe to reach me. "Don't keep me waiting in the hall too long." Before sauntering away, she kept her eyes locked with mine to be sure my gaze would linger on her form and reignite some thirst of youth.

I leaned against the cold stone of the fountain strongroom and nodded at those who passed by. Unlike the first time, more than the odd man knew who I was; most smiled with a reverent, small bow as they passed. I did the same in response, gathering the odd name here and there of anyone I didn't know.

Their respect for me made my heart ache for an almost-forgotten fantasy; if I'd ruled Asgard in my own skin, and we'd won the war against the Chitauri, would my people have given me the same treatment? I lightly kicked at the soft ground. My introspection was quiet and private, but it felt like a possibility instead if a dream.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," Freyr said, pulling me out of my trance when he walked around the side of the building.

"It's been pleasant enough," I said, standing up straight to show reverence for the occasion.

He unlocked the entrance and opened the door, which swung inward as if it was intended to keep spirits in than to keep people out. Freyr stepped in, letting the building swallow him. I turned away to wait without giving in to my temptation to peek inside.

But the door hadn't closed. "Well?" he asked from within.

I startled and craned my neck around the edge of the doorway. "What is it?"

He smiled with his eyes. "Are you coming?"

Suddenly my heart rose high in my chest. An invitation to the Vanir's most sacred place? "I...are you sure?"

Freyr nodded slowly, not dropping his stare at all.

I gulped and stood tall, as if Mother were waiting for me. "Yes. Lead the way."

A narrow stairway took us down in the dark, and Freyr snapped to light a few candles before us. It felt like a tomb. Moisture in the air stuck to my exposed skin and hair, and warmth surrounded me. Instead of the tinkling bubbles of a fountain, we were surrounded by a deafening silence, and I was overwhelmed by every creak of my joints and the flood of my own pulse. Slight twinkling lights around us said a spell was to blame, not too unlike the one I cast to keep my trysts with Sigyn a secret from the boys.

We crossed a threshold into a room with slits for windows, which let in orange light from the courtyard torches above. Away from the barrier on the steps, sounds erupted from all corners of the room. A grand marble fountain in the center had three tiers of water which delicately flowed in an endless waterfall. The fluid seemed to move slowly, like the magic within made it lighter than a typical stream. Four black pots held a ceiling-high plant in each corner, and every one bore different colored fruit: brilliant yellow, stark white, black, and a familiar red. The leaves of what could only be juvenile Vidar were equally unique for each species.

Instead of becoming more calm as I stood in place, my breath quickened. The energy alone nearly brought me to tears. Mother was everywhere. I smelled her cinnamon attitude and my mouth watered with the memory of what home tasted like. Ale and fresh bread. Sigyn's skin. Vali's laughter. Narvi's wise gaze that knew more than it should've. All of it flashed in my mind, taking no time at all, yet lingering until I understood how they were the only real important aspects of my life.

Freyr took a black leather canteen off the wall and filled it with water from the fountain while I remained in a stupor and stared. "This is a sacred place, Loki. Do you feel it?"

I trembled and shifted my eyes to his. "Yes."

"You've earned the right to be here." He handed me the canteen and directed me to walk around the room, stopping at each Vidar. With a wave of his right hand over the first—the one with white berries—a drop of dew appeared, shining on top of a bright purple leaf. "The water at the center is pure, from deep within our world. It cleanses all who drink of it so they may be ready to receive whatever messages they're meant to learn. This..."—he said, letting the dewdrop fall into the canteen—"helps the subject combine the lessons of the past." We continued to the next, with yellow fruit and orange leaves, repeating the same ritual. "The next pulls from feelings of the present."

"And if—"

"Shh," he whispered, determined to introduce all of them first. The next Vidar resembled a standard tree the most, with green leaves and black oblong fruit the size of my palm. "Future is tricky. The first taste of the future is what will come if the path does not shift." Putting his thumb on top of the canteen as I held it, Freyr gently sloshed the liquid inside. "For some, there is no difference between the gift of this and of the last." Almost cryptically, he turned to the final Vidar and repeated his spell, bowing his head to the tree before adding its elixir. "But for others, the Don may give a second chance and show just what might happen should the subject make a choice."

I remembered how heartily I prayed for an answer when I bit into the Vidar fruit on my own. Perhaps the river and the fruit were intertwined. It was possible the river wasn't a river at all, but a nectar few knew how to harvest. Whatever it was, I'd seen enough to believe in all Freyr said without question.

He closed the canteen and shook it once more, then took two golden, encrusted chalices off a shelf. "Is it what you expected?"

I shook my head and took in each tree again, trying to commit them to memory. "The fruit...are they called something separate from Vidar?"

"Aye. Plums of fortune. Each one bears a different gift." He lowered his gaze. "As you know."

I gulped again. "I...I am sorry if I trespassed inappropriately."

"One cannot trespass on such a thing. It must've been given to you." He stepped closer to me with a smile. "If the Vidar found you worthy, so can everyone else."

"Thank you, Uncle." I tipped my head toward all four corners as if the Vidar had eyes. "Lead us back now. It's time for Regin to see a happy future."

(SIGYN)

The women's gala was busier than I remembered my own, though that might've been because I was no longer at the center of it and being forced to sit still. The bride, Idunn, was stuck in place as young girls threaded her long blonde locks through silver rings in an intricate knot down her back. Her pink cheeks proved how young she was, which only made me feel much older than I did when I awoke.

Vanir wine did a fine job distracting me, though, and its warmth coursed through me greedily. In days forgotten on Asgard, such a confection would've been potentially dangerous given my propensity to overindulge in sweets, leaving me inebriated to the point of irresponsibility. Now, knowing Loki would guide me to safety when the festivities were over, I imbibed with abandon and relaxed. My body tingled all over and my anxious heart untied itself. Everything became raucously funny—though I seemed to have humor nobody else shared.

One by one, the women lined up to give Idunn some vapid piece of advice. I couldn't recall a single one from the many things said to me the night before my binding. Alas, given my height, the others would have noticed if I hadn't said my piece, so I stepped up to congratulate her and pondered what guidance I could give that might stick.

The wine made the people around me more approachable. I smiled more. Vaguely recognized a young woman who stood behind Idunn and tied her hair. This one, a strawberry redhead with vibrant brown eyes, dropped the white ribbon in her hands and gasped.

I tipped my head in recognition, though I couldn't place her name. Why stare at me so?

"Lady Sigyn," she said, hopping down to meet me just as the woman in front of me finished with Idunn. "There are thanks for you from all the realm."

"For me?" I asked with a giggle, then focused on Idunn. "I think she's misremembering me. I've done nothing for the people here. My husband, on the other hand—"

"Is the Jotun man, Loki." The girl placed her hand over her chest and blinked quickly to clear her reddening eyes.

"Loki is your husband?" Idunn asked, tipping her face. Her question silenced everyone immediately surrounding us. "You are Lady Sigyn?"

I stammered and tried to avoid the many piercing eyes that bored through me. "Is something wrong?"

Idunn took my hands without asking, firmly holding me in place. "I do need to thank you. We all do. For your kindness, for your family, and for him."

I shook my head and scoffed. "But I didn't do anything."

She squeezed me. "Your Loki is the reason we are all here. More than that...he's the reason I'll be bound tomorrow. Regin told me what he did on the battlefield. Loki saved Regin's life."

The other women buzzed with excited chatter, coming to life with stories of their own that were impossible to focus on in my inebriated state. Were they giving real accounts of his time in the city, or was he already a legend after only a few weeks? I didn't want to cast doubt on their obvious praise, but it wasn't consistent with the man I knew better than they did.

I yelled so Idunn could even hear me over the rest of them. "I'll happily pass along your thanks to him."

"But my thanks are also for you," she reiterated, clearing her throat loudly so the rest would quiet down. Her confidence was almost contagious. Idunn was nothing like the anxious bride I was—though, if Loki's story was correct, she'd already done this before, hadn't she? She furrowed her brow with seriousness and laced my fingers with hers. "Regin told me rage blinded him the instant Hriedmar died, murdered in front of him. Our elder, his father...he craved careless revenge. Loki stopped him, kept him away from the enemy, and told him to think about me. He reminded Regin of our future. Do you truly feel you had no influence over his faith in love?"

Faith in love? The idea made me smile, though I fought hard not to giggle with excitement like a young girl. For all that Loki once whined that I was a distraction to him in a time of war, his older self now recognized how such a thing was not a flaw. It saved the boy. And that was something I could claim by proxy, couldn't I?

I hummed and pulled my hands away only to encourage the girl to sit again. The other voices remained hushed and calm. "Loki never told me that. I accept your thanks, then."

"I apologize if my excitement interrupted your blessing," she said sheepishly while more red flooded into her cheeks.

"Oh, no. That's alright." Still unprepared with anything poignant to say, I ran a hand through my hair and my heart jumped. Inspiration. I closed my eyes and took a slow breath to compose myself as if it had been my plan all along. "Idunn, soon to be bound with Regin, son of Hriedmar, I have no words of wisdom to offer that can surpass the lesson Loki taught you both. So instead, I offer you a new custom."

She raised a brow of confusion, but the younger ladies leaned in closer.

"Tomorrow you will commit to one another with the handfast. You may even choose to wear rings, as Loki and I do. Beyond that, your maiden crown will be passed through your household to the next generation. But you may also choose another token to unite with him perpetually." I found the small plait at the nape of my neck and brought it forward in display. "On the night of our binding, after Loki and I unwound the many patterns woven into our hair, he invented this. Asked if he could place this upon me, and I would do the same. It's become our weekly ritual to retie them together and recite our vows. Small enough to stay hidden, but plain enough to remind ourselves of our commitment at the hardest moments. I give you permission to do the same. May you both be knit together until long after Ragnarok."

She smiled with closed lips and nodded. The audience was equally impressed with such a gift and murmured to each other with a tone of awe. Before I could turn around to find another cup of wine, Idunn stood and embraced me snugly. "Blessings for your household, Lady Sigyn. Thank you for this."

Perhaps time was an enemy of sorts, threatening an unstoppable end. But the trust and admiration of the young girl made me feel old, and wise, and lucky.