It was a cool, crisp autumn day, and to Sigyn that seemed to signal that it would be a good time to bake. That was the plan in her mind as soon as she got out of the shower, so she started with some peanut butter cookies. Several other cookies, a couple of quick breads, a pie, two cakes and a pan of brownies later, she paused to look at her now full counter tops and came to a realization: ( she was hiding. )

It had been a couple months since Sigyn had opened the door to find Frigg on her porch. The gift that had been left on her steps had been kicked aside and would have been left to rot in the rain had she not known that it would have prompted questions from Loki. Questions she didn't want to answer. So she'd thrown the thing way, whatever it was, and had only told Loki that Frigg had contacted her to say she was sorry. She didn't tell him that she'd shown up at their home. Or about Frigg's parting words. ( But Sigyn could not forget them. )

There was no avoiding it any longer, really. She'd put it off far too long as it was. She'd put it off for years with the cave, then during the begging of the freedom and now... well...

Frigg wasn't sure how to go about remedying things. Odin seemed to have no problems repairing his bonds with Loki, but men would never understand how different things were. This was different. This was so many levels of different. Not only because Frigg had not been able to stop the tragedy of what happened to Sigyn's sons, but... she had never supported her friend's marriage from the beginning. Because she had been too selfish to put aside her personal issues with a man, which had nothing to do with Sigyn at all -or any other woman really, and just be happy for her having found something that so few ever did.

That... That was entirely Frigg's failing. Gift of the future-sight, and yet... nothing she ever saw would have prepared her for this. For all she knew, she always knew that there was far more that she didn't know. ( Such was the curse of wisdom mixed with the arrogance of selfishness. )

The place was packed, which was how it was supposed to be. There were costumes everywhere... also exactly how it was supposed to be. Because it was Halloween. It was also Chicago and Americans went all crazy for the holiday. On top of that, it was Thirsty Thursday, something everyone in the American Midwest was familiar with. Professional drinkers, this lot, and Ninkasi loved them for it. Most of the costumed were immortal in some way, not just gods but nymphs and the like as well, but she was clearly allowing an occasional mortal in as well. There were rules outside to her bouncers for screening them properly.

Shortly, the specialty taps would be opened and her private brews would begin to flow. Which is what, she was sure, Kratos was hoping and/or waiting for. ( Wherever he was. )

The viewer will see a large desk with Hermes behind it. A whiskey bottle is off to his right beside two glasses.

Hermes: Hello, again. Welcome to another episode of Coffee, Tea, or Whiskey- where the answer is always whiskey. I'm The Messenger, and I will be pouring out the drinks, as well as serving up the latest gossip. For those of you joining us for the first time, or for those of you who got drunk with me in the last episode and don't remember, I have a couple of disclaimers. The people are real, but some of the names are changed to protect the innocent...namely, me!

Also, not everything I tell you is the truth. As I get drunker, I'm more likely to lie. Or maybe I'm lying now, and more likely to tell the truth as we go along. I leave it to you to decide what is fact and what is fiction.

Today I have a special guest with me in the studio. He got a bad rap many years ago, and is finally oot and aboot again, and I for one am glad he's back. The world was a little duller for a while there, folks. With that, I'm very happy to introduce my old friend, The Torch. Say hello to the viewers, Torchman.

( Camera pans out to reveal Loki behind the other half of the desk. )

To Hel, it felt like it was a recipe. Though for disaster or success, only time would tell. The recipe would read something like this:

Take one father
Add a freakish daughter
Mix in one stepmother
Optional: add a generous portion of loss and heartache
Add one pinch of hope
Blend

That's what they called what they were. ( Blended families )

Over the years, Sigyn had developed a sense for knowing when her husband was up to something. But it had been some time since she'd had to employ that skill, she was a bit rusty. So when she finally caught on that Loki was planning and being sneaky about it, her first reaction was to panic. After all, they were in a rather precarious peace, and rocking the boat could damage the calm to the point that certain one-eyed lechers might feel it prudent to let certain other hammer bashing idiots do things that would completely ruin Sigyn's life. ( Again. )

One of the things about life, good or bad, was that it marched inexorably onward. Things were still unsettled and up in the air, but her pantry was empty. So despite not knowing how things were with Idun and Bragi, since no one bothered to tell them anything, Sigyn set out to walk to the one grocery store in Nowthen. Unsurprisingly, Loki liked being fed.

True, she could have handled things differently. It wasn’t as though they needed to do things the mortal way. But Sigyn had found that she liked interacting with the people in the little town. It had been only her and Loki in the cave for so long, just the two of them with only the occasional visit from Hel or Idun, with only temporary escapes for herself every century or so. Being around others again was almost heady.

( And it was a real treasure to be able to walk in the sunshine. )

It was rare this time of year that he was able to sit down and put his feet up on the tasseled hassock in his study. Which was why, as he settled into the cushy plumpness of his red velvet chair, Santa began mentally reviewing his to-do list for today. Did he really have time to enjoy his peppermint hot cocoa, or had he forgotten something that would require his attention?

( The List )

Sigyn's front was pressed against a block of ice. Or maybe it was just the cold wall of a cave. She didn't want to open her eyes to find out for certain. Instead she tried to move closer to the fire that was warming her butt and back. Rolling over wouldn't help, in fact it would be worse. Because her backside was already so warm, it would seem that much colder when turned away from the source of heat. Wiggling a bit, still not really awake, she tried to get warmer without getting burned. But what she ran into wasn't a fire at all. It was a body.

( Loki. )

Bragi was a god of many gifts. Punctuality was only sometimes one of them. But Idun knew this. She'd known this for a very, very long time. It didn't bother her, because she knew it was a possibility, and she knew that when Bragi did arrive, he'd bring with him a very colorful story explaining what had detained him in the first place. Listening to one of his tales was a hardship Idun had somehow learned to live with. It wasn't like she lived for all his pretty, pretty words. Wasn't like that at all. Besides, Idun never let Waiting be her primary activity, ever.

When Idun arrived at the aquarium first, she wasn't terribly surprised. They had made these plans, but time has passed between then and now. A budding genius was in dire need of creative inspiration in a university library somewhere. A struggling musician was stuck on the chorus of a song that would send tremors through the hearts of millions after a tiny shift in notes. There was always someone, somewhere, who Bragi could help. And even if he wasn't helping anyone, there were plenty of interesting people to talk to. If they hadn't decided to break into the aquarium after closing, Idun could only imagine how many visitors she would stop and talk to before she could actually get to the observation tunnel. Talking was a hobby they both enjoyed. Idun arrived, and as the shimmering blue glow of the water washed over her, she briefly wondered what conversation her husband was having right then. ( But then she let the thought go, and went about setting up their picnic. )

Sigyn reviewed the table that was set before her, looking for anything that stood out as flawed. She wanted everything to be absolutely spot on, though she knew Isis would probably not mind if it wasn't. It was a matter of principle though. She was hosting a queen, she wanted everything to be exactly right for somebody of Isis' stature. More than that, she was hosting a friend, so she wanted everything to be perfect for someone she cared about and to whom she owed such a great debt. But it had taken longer to set things up that Sigyn had anticipated.

( Starting with the tea. )

Loki was... well drunk was a bad word but it was probably the right word to describe his current state. He had not the tolerance for alcohol that he once had nor the experience with modern alcohols to keep him from getting in that state. Oh, Sigyn was going to be furious. More so than she probably already was. So it was with relief that when he returned to their room at the hotel in Edmunton, Alberta, Canada he found that he was alone and most of their belongings were gone.

Well, either Sigyn had left him or she'd gone out and found a more permanent residence for them. Loki hoped for the latter but wouldn't have been surprised by the former given the amount of consideration he had given her in regards to his disappearance to see Hel. ( He was feeling rather... sad and cynical.  )

She hadn't intended to find a Scandinavian festival. In fact, she hadn't been looking for any sort of festival at all. Sigyn was, nominally, looking for a furniture store that had promised the chairs that she was seeking at a cheap price. While she wasn't terribly concerned about money, there was a principle involved: she was not paying twice what she thought things were worth just because somebody was trying to make more of a profit than they deserved. So she'd come all the way to Astoria, Oregon, just for this particular store.

And because sitting in Minnesota waiting for her husband to come home ( was driving her nuts. )

The world, it seemed, had gotten so much larger since the last time Sigyn had visited it. Oh, she knew, populations expanded, mortals pushed ever outwards from the cities they created, and life moved on. Wasn't it for that reason that she'd risked her clandestine trips out of the cave? The first few times had seen to their needs. After that, she'd gone out so they wouldn't be completely left behind, forgotten as they were in that dank place. And she'd managed to return with little bits of the modern world, but still, even she hadn't been prepared for the enormity of it.

( It made finding a permanent home somewhat... daunting. )

Her first inclination had been to take them somewhere remote, a small town somewhere perhaps. But there was a problem with small towns: everyone knew everyone else, who they were related to, where they worked, who they had gone to kindergarten with. There was no way to blend in in a small town. Everyone would take notice of new arrivals and speculate where they had come from or why they were there.

Not that she expected to outsmart Odin, not for any length of time. Loki had pointed out, and he was right, that they'd never be able to keep out of sight with him having Hlidskjalf. Forget Huginn and Muninn, troublesome as they were, it was the all-seeing ability the throne gave him that would derail them. If he truly wanted to find them. Sigyn was taking a gamble, and a very large one at that, that Odin still had some care for his blood-brother and he wouldn't hunt them down with pitchforks and torches. No, it wasn't Odin she was trying to avoid.

( It was the rest of them. )

Continued from here.

Loki blinked in disbelief. What exactly had he done? He knew that he ripped his arm free, unintentionally, but on an emotional level there was something more to it. His son. Correction, he and Sigyn's son, or what remained of him, was now torn... broken... He wasn't quite sure what to make of it. He wondered if he was hallucinating. Lifting his free arm again, he turned it around, watched it twitch and felt the muscles burn from sudden use. No, it was quite real. In a fury he had ripped apart some of Narvi's remains.

He dropped the arm at his side. ( It hurt already. )