(SIGYN)

What a change. Loki...a king, once more. Even in name only, it meant so much. He would never admit it, but he missed being needed by more than just me. Our children would grow and have lives on their own. Loki craved responsibility the way only truly gifted people can when they know they have something worth sharing. And he certainly had much to give.

I left him at the court hall with Freyr to settle diplomatic duties. I agreed to allow him leave for the city at least every six months. The boys were still a chore now, but they were getting older, and it was time to let all the good my husband had built for himself have a wider impact. It didn't feel like a burden to see him thrive.

Since my face was equally as well-known as his even if I wanted to stay hidden, while I walked alone through the marketplace, nearly everyone stopped to pass their congratulations and thanks to Loki. I was happy to oblige them. More than pride made me eager to shout from the rooftops that I'd captured his heart—fortunately, no one had a jealous air that convinced me I had an enemy. We were separate people, but a single family. As it should be.

A familiar jeweler focused intently on polishing some trinket when I first laid eyes on it: a golden crown in the shape of many leaves, twisting and turning like snakes on a vine. It was delicate, but unfinished. A few open settings, perfectly spaced for large stones, inspired me as I lifted it to see the intricate patterns more clearly.

"I have some that would match you," the man said, not looking up from his work.

"I...excuse me?"

"Your pendant," he said. "I can make a match of the crown."

I reached under the neckline of my frock and revealed the necklace Loki gave me before he left for battle. It gave me a sense of formality for the senator's election, and I'd nearly forgotten I was wearing it at all. The green stones reminded me of deep pools, so substantial, they were worlds in themselves, forever becoming smaller and smaller until they could no longer be seen with bare eyes.

But...how did you know I was wearing it?

"I know many things, Lady Sigyn," he said, granting me anything but comfort for reading my mind. "It will be ready before moonrise."

I took a few deep breaths and tucked the necklace away. "And in return?"

"There are thanks enough in serving heroes. Consider it repayment for the future." He never took his focus of the project before him. His cryptic faith in what was yet to come reminded me of Grid again.

I decided it was best not to argue with mystics. Whatever they knew, a future me would have to reckon with it.

Our newfound friends properly exhausted the boys, which put them in just the right place to sleep as we left Don. The moons above would light the way well enough to the first encampment, and I trusted Loki would keep us safe in the night. I was anxious to return home, as was he, despite all the excitement that surrounded his new position.

We paused at the top of the hill outside the city and looked back on it. Unlike when we arrived a few days earlier, it shined to me. The Don City was no longer a far-off memory clouded by unpleasant anxieties; I saw it fondly. Perhaps my sons would someday come to live here for their education. My husband would be a frequent visitor, lending me more opportunities to grow as well.

"You know, every time you come here, you return a changed man," I said to Loki, stroking Narvi's precious head against my chest while he dozed off. "It makes me wonder what else lies ahead."

"More mischief, surely." He winked and tightened the strap around Vali before charging away.

There was new freedom in my blood. The horse didn't frighten me as it once did, and riding was more comfortable. When I felt a rush of worry in my chest, Narvi would squeeze me in his sleep, which never failed to fill me with warmth and clear away the demons of my imagination. Before I realized how long we'd been traveling, Loki finally trotted to a stop at a large clearing.

The trees were silhouettes of black in the night, and a few sparse villages on the hillsides below made themselves known by firelight. We were at the top of the realm, above some wisps of clouds, where the air was crisp and chilled my lungs with every inhale, refreshing me.

"We'll stay until midmorning. The boys and I can fins breakfast at first light so you can rest." Loki dismounted and carefully swept Vali in his arms, placing him on a bed of soft ground that was evidently familiar. A long-since burnt out fire was only a few steps away, and Loki lit it after taking care of Narvi in the same manner as his brother. He covered the precious babes in a light blanket that matched their tunics; somehow, in the faint glow of the newborn flames, I saw them as the helpless creatures they were when they were born. How could so much time have flown past already?

I sighed and tied my horse next to Loki's and unpacked my satchel for a cover of my own. "This place isn't familiar. Are you taking us a different way home?"

"Yes. A faster way," he said, shaking out his hair and standing straight to suck in the mountain air.

"Is that wise?"

"You need more faith in me, Gin." He had his fill and took my hands with care. "Or perhaps you simply need to know these new stars to find our way home." With careful steps backward, Loki led me away from the camp and out to the road, where no trees obstructed the view of the valley below. He gestured before us with a wide sweep of his arm. "Now, let's see. Do you recall everything I once said of the stars?"

I chuckled. "I could never forget. But those stars are irrelevant here."

"Do you think we are so far from Asgard?" He stood behind me and crouched to me at my same eyeline, then pointed due east. "What's that?"

I squinted, sure it was another game of his. But he wasn't wrong. There were two stars, one larger than the other, and distinctly separate colors—familiar, yet...

"Are those the eyes?" I whispered, taking a step forward as if it had any impact at all on how close they were. "But they're backwards, aren't they?"

"Very good, Ginny. You're right." He tickled my ear with his breath and swept my hair away from that side of my neck, effortlessly dissolving me against him. His strong hand extended before me again, this time to the south. "Most of the great landmarks are still visible, but now we're on the other side of them. A great distance, sure, but on the same plane."

I wasn't yet able to read them like before, but knowing the stars I'd prayed to all my life were still above me somehow gave the night a familiar warmth. "Is there anything you don't know, Loki?"

I felt his smile even though I couldn't see it. "Nothing I can't learn. Look there." A final time, he pointed north, keeping his position as if expecting something.

The moment I recognized it, my breath caught. "Oh..." She was just as spectacular as when I'd last seen her. Possibly even more bright. The red-gold shine of Frigga's star flickered and waved, acknowledging me, us, our family. "Gods, I can't believe it."

He squeezed my shoulder three times, never tiring of the tactile code invented during his infirmary.

"Thank you, Frigga." I wrapped Loki's hands around my waist and rocked with him, nearly dancing as we had so long ago. None of the cares that normally distracted me could disrupt such contentment.

Loki traced the edge of my ear with his nose and didn't pause his delicate affection through his questions. "My love, do you regret coming here?"

"Oh, no. Never." I hummed through my exhale. "This is paradise."

"Have we found happiness?"

"Some time ago, I think."

Loki was quiet for a moment—well, his words were. For a man known for lies, he wasn't much good at hiding when his mind ran wild in secret. Back and forth he swayed, swallowing hard enough for me to hear. "And do you feel...complete?"

I stopped to look at his face. "Complete?"

Vali stirred behind us, fussing for a few seconds before turning over and falling back asleep. Narvi twisted on the ground as well, without a sound. Loki and I froze, equally worried we'd somehow woken them, but we were fortunate it was only a small coo of a dream. Other than the fact we were outside, such a thing wasn't much different from any night at home after hours of excitement.

Seeing them in the moonlight—so small, yet so grown—left me tearful with joy. How could I feel anything but complete?

"Ginny?" Loki turned my chin toward him, more gently than he would if we were alone with our passions. It had gravity. His eyes glistened. "I think our home could have more life."

It took me a moment. More life. More life. Our family. The children. Complete. Complete? My cheeks fell in shock. "Truly?"

He nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact.

I shuddered inside. A tickle in my belly echoed his desire, and a yearning I couldn't place now had a name. He'd felt it, too. Were we ready for more after so many years?

Loki answered for me, tracing the curves of my face as he spoke. "I've seen you with your charts. You can stop counting."

Beneath the three close Vanaheim moons, Loki and I made new vows to each other, frightened and excited at the new hope in our hearts and, hopefully, the prospect of knowing precisely what we were in for.