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Chapter Text

In a valley where two mountains meet, the allied kings stood watching the first rays of sunrise. The early morning commotion of freshly awakened villagers and farm animals could not be heard from such a height. Here, the lotus flowers bloomed abundantly, decorating the dark, mossy rocks with pops of white petals, and the clouds gathered at their feet in swirls of cool mist. The older king rested on a smooth rock, his back relaxing against the western mountain. His younger companion turned a stone over on his hand and stared back at the Sun with golden eyes that seemed to reflect its glow.

"It has come to my attention," the younger king spoke, breaking the serenity of the dawn. "that your son is journeying back home."

The older king said nothing for a moment, only watching as the younger man continued turning his stone. His one gray eye shimmered with wisdom and age. "Yes. He will make a few more stops along the way but, upon his return, he shall be crowned king. That is, I assume, why you summoned me here."

"If my intentions are clear then allow my speech to be as well." A radiant grin spread across the face of the younger king, one that his companion did not return. "The time is upon us for your son to wed, to choose who will be the next queen of his Realm. The last time we spoke, you gave me your word that such a choice would be made for him with my daughter." The older king was silent, turning his gray eye from the horizon to the young king standing before him. When he didn't respond, the young king's smile dimmed slightly. "Unfortunately, your spoken word alone will not suffice. I must have something more permanent, more…" He paused to look down at the rock in his hand. "set in stone."

"Is the word of the Allfather not binding enough? Do you question my honor, Caelus?" the older king asked, his voice sharp as a knife.

"Oh please, old friend, even the self-proclaimed Allfather isn't immune to political intrigue. All I ask for is a bit of...insurance, if you will, in case the tide changes." Caelus opened his jacket pocket to pull out a scroll that unraveled before him, showing writing that burned like fire on the parchment. The Allfather scanned it slowly, his face unreadable. "A simple treaty would suffice really. One signed by both of us and bonded through blood the day my daughter bears your son an heir."

The Allfather sighed, looking back at the Sun that had just fully risen above the horizon. The round disk of burning light surrounded Caelus's head like a halo or, rather, a crown. "A millenia ago, it was quite unheard of for Light Elves to leave their Realm. They preferred the accompaniment of the Sun and basked in its warmth that could be felt in no other place than Alfheim. It was what gave them their power, and the ability to be the lighthouse for all Realms was what gave them their honor."

"Times have changed," Caelus said, extending a golden quill dripping with black ink. "It has been a long time now since you have visited our Realm. Our kingdoms are the same in all but what they have to offer each other. You have an army, soldiers willing to fight and die for their king and protect his allies. Without your protection, we are exposed to attack and destruction. I have the Sun, and without it your soldiers starve in darkness. Through this alliance, we need not worry about either. You gave me your word, now give me your seal."

The Allfather closed his eye for a moment, his hand tightening around the wooden staff he held. Somewhere nearby, a crow called, but somewhere closer a lion growled. Caelus waited patiently with the grin of a salesman who'd just made the deal of the millennium, dripping pen and glowing paper in hand. The Sun beamed down on the pair of kings and, for that moment, all was still. The Allfather rose to his feet slowly and accepted the parchment from his kingly companion's hand. 

Chapter Text

The streets of Asgard had not seen such a crowd in eons. Women, men, children of all ages flooded from their homes, down alleyways and around corners to stand witness to the occasion. Music flowed through the people at a deafening volume, but it was no match for the stomping of feet and rising of voices from Asgardian celebrations. Banners of gold and white linen hung from lampposts while white flowers decorated the sidewalks. Soldiers, armed and dressed for battle, created a barrier between the curious onlookers and the cobblestone road. The Sun gleamed almost directly over the Bifrost that glimmered golden and promising in the western distance. To the east was the palace, where those close enough could see the Allfather and his Queen perched regally on their thrones. Forming a crescent moon around them were soldiers, freshly returned from war and donning silver medallions at their necks. Noblemen pressed in on the space around them, dressed in their best whites and pearls. 

Away from the commotion, the Gatekeeper waited with narrowed eyes and a concentrated scowl. His deep amber eyes peered into the Realms that twisted and swirled in their gradual alignment. Somewhere rooted inside them, a door began to shimmer. The time was close at hand. He lifted the great Hofund, the Sun catching the glint of its silver blade. It slid perfectly into the center of the Bifrost and turned slowly. The bridge appeared as bright white at first, shooting like a dart from Asgard towards its opening entrance. When their energies met, the bridge reflected prismatic light, creating a kaleidoscope of rainbow colors on its gossamer grounds. A light, more brilliant than the Sun, burst through the door and raced towards the Bifrost with the speed of a thousand horses. The Asgardians watched from afar as it grew closer, shooting across the sky like a comet. The Gatekeeper turned the hilt of his sword once more and the bridge receded back towards the gaping portal of the Bifrost. With it, came the lion. 

Fur white as snow and brilliant as light, the translucent cat came to a halt in front of the Gatekeeper, standing eye to eye with the towering feline. Their amber eyes practically mirrored the other as he removed the sword from the Bifrost's switch. Holding the weapon at bay, he followed the reins of the beast to the deep black chariot that accompanied it. All sides of the magnificent sight swirled with galaxies and stars as if it was a moving mirror to the Realms and beyond. At its helm, a golden sun twinkled, the same symbol that graced the crown of its rider.

"Your Majesty," he spoke in a voice that echoed off the golden Bifrost walls. "Welcome."

She looked down at him, her eyes a golden glow. "Heimdall, it's been too long."

The edges of his eyes crinkled as he stepped away from the chariot, a quiet smile falling on his face. She nodded at him and the lion reared. Like a flash of lightning, they were off again. The soldiers forming a protective wall to the Rainbow Bridge parted to make way for the racing lion. Its silent paws left white prints of light in its stead. The air around the crowd fell to a hushed silence as they watched in awe. Odin stood from his throne and Frigga followed his lead, taking her husband's hand. The lion stopped just before the steps to the throne's pedestal and threw back its head to let out a mighty roar that sliced through the silence and ran goosebumps down the spines of Asgardian warriors. Then, the beast bowed and dissolved to stardust, taking the chariot with it. The woman kneeled in front of the Allfather, but kept her eyes fixed on his. The gesture stirred the shaken crowd to gasps and whispers.

With the wave of his hand, they fell to silence again. “Llona, Daughter of Caelus,” he announced, voice booming throughout the streets. “Queen of Alfheim, Princess of Light. Welcome to Asgard.”

She rose to her feet as she spoke, “It is my honor to stand before the Allfather in representation of my people.”

"It has been some time since one of Alfheim's nobility graced the halls your people helped build. It is my honor to host you here in my home and, eventually, bestow it onto you." He turned his attention to the crowd, continuing, "For many millennia, Asgard and Alfheim have lived in harmony. Alfheim provided light to cultivate our crops, feed our warriors, and grow our population. In return, they have only asked for protection, which we have dutifully fulfilled. Yet, a new dawn approaches. It is time for the two to come together not only in written alliance but in blood.” Another murmur spread throughout the crowd. Llona’s stare remained set on Odin, but he did not look at her again as he continued, “I have gathered you all today so that you, my loyal subjects, may be the first to look upon your future. Tonight we shall celebrate the joyous occasion that is the uniting of our two Realms in a bond that can never be broken to usher in a new age of light and prosperity for all.”

The streets bursted with music, cheers, and the distant roar of a lion. Soldiers drummed the ends of their spears against the streets, adding to the wall of sound that swept through the Realm. Llona turned to face the people she would one day rule. Each and every soldier crossed their chests at once with the sign of the Asgardian salute, then bowed to one knee. Like a rippling wave, Llona watched as the rest of the crowd followed their lead until the entire Realm kneeled at her feet. Her heart hammered in her chest. Behind her, Frigga glanced at Odin, her face speaking more than words could. Odin tapped his scepter on the pedestal with a force so strong it shook the cobblestone roads. All of his people rose back to their feet and Llona returned her gaze to the King. 

“My wife, the Queen of Asgard, Frigga, will accompany you to your chambers where preparations are being made for tonight’s festival,” Odin continued, speaking more to Llona than the crowd. “Thor shall be in attendance tonight, at which time we will properly set your engagement in accordance with Asgardian tradition. Until then, I beseech you to make peace and familiarize yourself with your new home.”

Frigga stepped down from her husband's side and nodded at the young Queen. All eyes followed the two as they were escorted back towards the golden double doors of the palace to the beat of ceremonial drums. Guards bowed as they passed before slowly allowing the doors to shut behind them, immediately hushing the commotion of the dispersing crowd just outside. The high ceiling allowed light to pour through its arched windows and practically illuminate the hall's great white pillars. At the center of it all stood a gray stone basin resting atop a circular pedestal. Symbols of all Nine Realms created a ring in the stone sides of the tub. The vague familiarity of it sparked Llona's curiosity. She started towards it then hesitated, glancing back at Frigga. The Queen smiled and nodded her forward. Each step she took echoed across the empty hall almost as loud as her heart drumming in her ears. She glanced over her shoulder once again at Frigga before peering into the basin’s dark waters.

Llona’s eyes widened as she stumbled backwards. Her voice spat like poison as she demanded, “What is the meaning of this?”

Frigga pursed her lips. “So, it is true,” she whispered. “Your mother…she’s gone.”

She answered with silence, glaring at the Queen with tears pooling in her eyes. “Is this some sort of game?”

“My dear girl.” Frigga shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”

Llona’s nose flared as she turned back to the basin, a tear sneaking down her face. Her mother gazed back at her from the dark waters, the reflection clear as a mirror. Everything was just the way she remembered from the jet black hair to the bright blue eyes that stood out against her deep bronze skin. A halo of light surrounded her proud head like a crown. Llona’s tears dripping into the water did nothing to ripple away the reflection. Her hand reached out to touch her cheek, but the water simply shifted away from her fingers. She tried again and again until an all-consuming thought crossed through her head. Propping herself up with her hands on the basin’s edges, she bowed so her head nearly touched the water. 

“There is no need to join her,” Frigga warned, easing her away from the basin by the fabric of her gown. Llona blinked as if coming out of a trance. “Such a light can never be extinguished. It burns on within you.” 

She opened her palms and two pure white lotus flowers materialized within them. Gingerly, she placed one in Llona’s shaking hands, and together they approached the basin again. The Queen of Light remained a reflection within the water, smiling at the sight of her child and Frigga. They gently placed the flowers in the dark water, disturbing its perfect peace. The reflection rippled with the water before fully disappearing as it returned to its natural stillness. Llona peered into its darkness, praying for her to return but found nothing. Not even her own reflection appeared in its depths. She staggered backwards, head reeling and heart heavier.

“We were inseparable in our youth, you know?” Frigga explained gently. “I’m sure you’ve heard this story a thousand times, but these flowers were made for her. In celebration of their courting, your father came to me for assistance on creating a flower to symbolize their love. He placed it in her hair on the day they wed, then one in the hair of each of his children.” Llona said nothing as she watched the flowers drift from one edge to the other, eased along by a breeze she couldn’t feel. Frigga took her hand again. “She was a strong, just, compassionate queen, as I know you will someday be. I could think of no one better to espouse my son and rule my people.”

They stood hand-in-hand in silence for a long while. The Sun felt as if it were beaming on their faces, but neither felt heat. In the midst of the light, the two felt like three. Then, it was gone, dimmed back to its normal glow. Frigga took a deep breath and motioned for Llona to follow her. The women wandered down the expanding labyrinth of halls in their silent journey. Despite her grief, she marveled at the golden walls and larger-than-life statues of kings and royals who came before her. The artwork and tapestries hanging on the walls shimmered whenever it met the light. Finally, they came to a stop just before two brown doors, carved with ornate patterns and symbols of Asgard.

“Here we are,” Frigga finally spoke, turning to look at the girl with eyes full of quiet wisdom. “My ladies have already prepared your chambers and are constructing a gown for tonight. However, I know that you have had a long day of traveling and excitement, if you would like a moment alone for repose and rest, I will dismiss them for you.”

Llona shook her head, still reeling from everything that had already taken place. “Yes, I think some time alone would be good. A moment to regain my thoughts and send word to my father of my safe arrival and warm welcomings.”

Frigga opened the doors and clapped twice. The chambermaids immediately dropped what they were doing and filed out quickly, each making sure to bow to both Queens as they passed. No other words were spoken between them as Frigga waited until the last had left then exited, closing the door behind her. Llona floated aimlessly towards the balcony, pausing just before the arched opening. The Sun's brilliant rays were just setting before the horizon. They found her skin gently and melted into it, filling her with warmth felt beyond the kiss on her face. She closed her eyes, feeling the hug of her people bidding her their final farewell. When she'd reopened them, the sunlight faded and Asgard fell into a deep and starless night. She gazed up at the dark sky that concealed her and the people from the cosmos. Its emptiness reflected the hollowness inside of her. She couldn't see the constellation of stars that held her mother's soul. Nor could she see the streaks of falling comets, a sign of her people returning home from a long day's work of providing light for the rest of the Realms. Nothing but a deep, lonely emptiness that nearly took her breath away. She stumbled backwards into her room, finding the air suddenly toxic and hard to breathe. She coughed, her hand held around her neck as she gasped for air. Tears stung her eyes again and, finally, a breath came as an almost animalistic cry. She sank to the ground beside her bed and sobbed until her consciousness became nothing but a dreamless slumber. 

“Your Highness?” A hand gently patted Llona’s shoulder, ripping the haven of sleep from her body. “Your Highness, it’s time to wake up.”

She opened her eyes slowly to find her room flooded with handmaidens pinning up a dress on a cloth mannequin and mixing pigments in silver bowls. Musicians played throughout the palace garden, their melodies drifting up to her window and filling her room with songs of celebration. Without a moment to waste, the disoriented Queen was hoisted to her feet. Pink-skinned handmaidens brushed the curls from her dark hair and pinned it up with golden clips. Another group stripped her of the silk fabrics she’d worn from Alfheim to replace them with a thick dress of deep red velvet that felt foreign and prickly against her skin. Her lips were painted a matching shade and they powdered the streaks of dried tears away from her cheeks. 

Llona said nothing, trying to think of anything but what they were doing. She thought of her sisters, wondered what they might be doing, and if they were thinking of her too. Her father was likely just returning home from standing at Alfheim’s gates to welcome all the Elves coming from work, as he had every night. She thought of the soft pathways of soil and pebbles and lush ivy covering the outside of every wall, white lotuses popping their colors through the green. So lost in thought she was that she didn’t notice they’d finished remolding her likeness until they all stepped back to admire their work.

“So beautiful!” one swooned.

“Yeah, now she finally looks like a proper royal,” another agreed.

Llona furrowed her eyebrows. “But…I am royal.”

“Maybe, but now you look like an Asgardian,” a red-headed maiden spoke up. She flashed Llona a pearly grin before extending her hand to the Queen to help her down from the small wooden pedestal they’d positioned her on.

They escorted her from her chambers towards the sound of the music, towards the feast, towards the celebration of her and Thor’s engagement, towards Thor. Butterflies fluttered through her stomach, but she kept her head held high. Portraits of the royal family adorned the halls. In each of them, they all stood in their regal glory. The family of three, Thor being a perfect mix of both his mother and father. Only one of the portraits showed a fourth member of the family. They were noticeably younger, Thor not yet an adolescent. Next to him stood another young boy who looked different from the royal family in all ways. Llona paused in front of it, staring eye level to the young prince. 

“We must hurry, Your Highness,” the red-headed maiden warned. “You don’t want to be late!”

She nodded, turning away from the painting and hurrying down the rest of the hall. The music was almost deafening when they reached the golden doors at the end of the hall. On the other side, her destiny and an entire kingdom awaited her arrival. The doors swung outwards to reveal Llona to the celebrating crowd. At the sight of her, everyone, including the musicians, paused to look upon their future Queen. Frigga and Odin sat on their thrones in the middle of the garden. Four warriors, adorned with glimmering medals of honor, stood before them. Small orbs of light drifted through the lush greenery, bathing everything in a soft white glow. She took a deep breath and took her first step onto the grass. At her feet, lotus flowers bloomed, causing a marveled gasp to erupt from the crowd. Frigga smiled softly. Keeping her eyes on her, Llona continued onward, a trail of lotuses in her stead. 

She bowed on one knee before the throne, her head low and eyes on the grass. Around her, the crowd broke into a deafening applause. The entire Realm seemed to vibrate with energy and celebration. Its rhythms moved through her, agitating the butterflies in her stomach even more. A pair of dark leather boots walked into her line of sight in the grass and stood in front of her. Next to them, Mjolnir dropped heavily to the ground. Her breath hitched in her throat.

“Llona, Queen of Alfheim, Princess of Light,” his thunderous voice broke through the cheering, silencing it almost immediately. “It is an honor.”

Her eyes drifted up, taking in every inch of the man who stood before her. His deep blue eyes matched those she’d seen in the portraits exactly. They radiated a type of warmth that almost reminded her of home. A smile found its way onto both of their faces. He extended his hand out to her. She accepted it, gracefully rising to her feet.

“Thor, Prince of Asgard, God of Thunder,” she said, unable to hide the smile spread from ear to ear on her blushing face. “The honor is all mine.”

Odin rose from his throne, addressing the young couple and the rest of Asgard as he said, “I welcome all to look upon your future King and Queen and bestow upon them blessings of everlasting strength, prosperity, and fertility. For Asgard!”

The entire Realm echoed “For Asgard'' in response. Both Odin and Frigga stepped down from the pedestal holding their thrones. Each of them held a box in their hands. Odin handed his brightly-wrapped gift to Llona, while Frigga passed her glowing box to Thor. He opened his first to reveal a golden ring of light, a gift courtesy of the Light Elves. Placing it upon his head, it formed a crown around his blonde hair.  He turned to allow the crowd to gawk at its brilliance. Then came Llona’s turn. She unwrapped her box slowly for fear of her shaking fingers dropping the small thing. In it was a small silver ring. She could practically feel the magic radiating off of it. Upon closer inspection, Llona found it to be engraved with a small enchantment that read, “She Who Is Worthy”. Her eyes drifted up to Thor’s. 

“It is a piece of Mjolnir,” he explained, lifting the hammer to show the circle indent where the ring originated. “A piece of myself.”

“I…I don’t know what to say,” she whispered as she stared down at the silver band.

Thor smiled at her and offered, “Allow me.”

He took her hand in his and slid the ring onto her finger. It was a perfect fit. The crowd once again burst into celebration. Striking up a song, the musicians flooded the gardens with loud music and dancing. People pressed in on the grounds to get drinks of mead or grab a partner for the next song. The party raged on, getting wilder the more drinks were served. Llona laughed, amused at their celebration of something that had little really to do with them. Thor stood next to her, also smiling to himself.

“So,” she started, shaking her head at yet another smashing glass. “these are the people we are meant to soon rule over.”

Thor chuckled. “Yes, I suppose they can be a bit much, but I have faith that you will become accustomed to it soon enough.” He knelt down to pluck one of lotuses that bloomed around her feet, twisting the green stem in his fingers. “My mother told me about the creation of these and what they meant to your mother and father. Perhaps I should continue the tradition and…” His voice trailed off as he placed the flower in her hair, just above her ear.

Llona beamed, locking eyes with her betrothed. The fear of marriage, motherhood, and ruling a Realm she’d never known seemed to melt in the kindness of his eyes. All of her butterflies fluttered away, figuring there were worse ways to spend the rest of her life. She offered her hand to him, the silver ring catching the light of the flitting orbs. “Would you care to dance?”

“Of course.” He laced his fingers with hers and, together, they joined in the celebration of Asgard.

The two danced until they were the last ones left on the floor. Drunk off mead and each other’s energy, they didn’t even notice that the crowd had begun to thin until the last of the musicians began to pack their things. A group of young maidens came to collect the deliriously drunk Llona, carrying her away as she slurred her good nights. Thor kissed her hand gently before allowing them to take her back to her chambers. Once they were all gone, he allowed the smile to fade from his face. His hand raised up to remove the crown of light from his head as he plopped himself down at one of the empty tables. Sensing he probably needed it, a servant placed a jug of mead in front of him. He did not hesitate to raise it to his lips and take deep gulps, only pausing to take a breath until the entire drink was drained. 

“You might want to slow down,” Heimdall chuckled as he approached the prince. “If you ever want to see your wedding day.”

“And if I don’t?” Thor grumbled.

The Gatekeeper shrugged, setting his helmet down on the table. “Drowning yourself won’t solve anything.”

“Yeah, but it can damn well help.” He waved down a servant who promptly returned with another jug of mead. Heimdall watched with pursed lips as Thor drained that one too. With a loud burp, he asked, “How is she?”

“Jane Foster is doing just fine, but she should no longer be your focus,” he answered, sounding more like a father than a friend. “You are to be married.”

“I never asked for this,” he argued. “This was father’s doing, not mine!”

“Neither did she,” Heimdall shot back. “and I suspect she will need some guidance to adjust. Your destinies are more entwined than you may think.”

Thor rolled his eyes. “Did my father send you here to tell me this?”

“No, I am simply here as a friend of yours…and hers.” Heimdall raised his hands in defense.

“Well, you tell her that I must promise her my hand. I can promise to play the part of a doting husband in front of her Realm and mine, but I cannot promise her my heart,” he sighed, staring down his empty goblet. “My heart is the one thing my father cannot control.”

“Will you not give her a chance to earn it, as your lovely mortal did?” Heimdall questioned. 

Before Thor could answer, a courier came racing into the garden. His eyes fell directly on Thor as he panted, “The Allfather requests an audience with the prince.”

Thor and Heimdall exchanged glances. “Must be another engagement he arranged while I was away,” he joked and rose from his spot to follow the courier back into the palace. He stumbled trying to keep up with the much more sober servant. As he wondered what his father had to tell him that couldn’t wait until the morning, a part of him felt a crawling sense of dread. The last time Odin had summoned him with such urgency, he was telling him of the coming of a fiancé he hadn’t chosen or even met. He sincerely hoped his joke was merely that, fearing the possibility of it becoming an actual reality.

Odin stood at the far end of his throne room, staring out into the cosmos that reflected in his silver eye. The room was empty, save for a few servants tending fires and mending curtains. The courier bowed Thor in and shut the great golden doors behind him. Odin did not move to welcome his son. Thor's shoulders dropped as he made his way past the throne, feeling its ominous pull as he passed. Such a dreaded thing was to be his one day soon. The mead sat uneasily in his gut. 

"You summoned me, Father?" he spoke, moving to stand next to Odin.

His eyes did not leave the night sky as he said, "What do you think?"

"About Queen Llona?" he questioned. When there was no answer, he shrugged and replied, "She is lovely, but not the choice I would have made for a wife, Father."

Odin nodded. "You would prefer a mortal? Tell me, my son, what could she offer to your people? To Asgard? What could she offer you other than a fleeting sense of happiness?" 

Blood rushed to Thor's face. He clenched his jaw, turning away from his father entirely. A tense silence fell over them. Below the royals, the last of the few fires were extinguished in the windows of the Asgardian people. The Realm had lulled itself into a celebration-induced slumber, a peace that Thor could only wish he felt. He gazed out into the sky, hoping in vain to look past the barriers of space and time to see her.  All he saw, instead, were millions of twinkling stars. Their beauty almost mocked him with their distance between where he was and where he wanted so desperately to be. 

Odin took a deep breath, breaking the silence. "This alliance with Alfheim shall be a prosperous one, I assure you. Everything has begun to fall into place. Everything except for your wild and confused heart."

Thor looked from the heavens to find his father staring at him with a knowing glare. "This has very little to do with Jane, Father."

"Oh really?" Odin chuckled, his voice bathed with amusement. "Tell me, then, what is your hesitation? Llona is not only as radiant as her mother, but she is a Queen and one of a powerful Realm at that. No two souls are as evenly matched as you both are."

"It is the alliance itself. You gave me your word that I will be King one day. As King, I must do what is right for my people. An alliance with Alfheim, what it entails in terms of armies and warriors, could weaken Asgard at a time when we need to show strength. Asgard does not need a Queen, it needs protection," he explained, but his father merely laughed and patted his shoulder.

"What Asgard needs is a King who is honest to his people and himself," Odin corrected. 

Thor brushed away his hand, huffing. "I cannot be honest whilst pretending to love and care for a woman I did not choose."

A quiet smile fell on Odin's face as he turned to face the night sky again. The sight made anger boil under Thor's skin even hotter. His hands clenched the window sill so tight the blood rushed from his knuckles. Odin sighed, "It does not matter whether you love or care for her. As a King, I signed the alliance for the betterment of Asgard. As your Father, I chose your bride for the betterment of you and our bloodline. I pray that, one day, you will understand." 

"I assure you, Father , I will never understand," Thor spat before turning to storm out of the throne room, leaving Odin alone to contemplate the stars.

Chapter Text

Llona burrowed herself under her blankets, groaning softly. Her head felt as if it was being squeezed between two stones, eyes like hot coals. The sunlight peeking through her window would have been a welcomed friend had it not been for the lurching in her stomach that plagued her every time she moved. She could hear her handmaidens pattering around in her chambers, chatting softly as they went about their morning tasks. For all they knew, she was still deep in slumber, having drunken herself into a stupor. They wouldn't be too far from wrong. The voices multiplied, rising with excitement until another shushed them back to quiet whispers. 

She tried to remember the night before and everything that came with it. The ring still felt cold on her clammy fingers. Its newfound weight did not go unnoticed. The look in Thor's eyes when she opened the gift burned blush onto her cheeks. Such gentleness, such valor. The way he'd smiled at her. A different kind of butterflies fluttered in her stomach, a type different from the apprehension she'd felt yesterday but not too entirely unique. With her all, she wanted to hop from bed and run to her sisters, giggling as she told them everything. They would have sat in the middle of their bedroom floor as they asked blushingly innocent questions, pondered about Asgardian rumors and sayings, and whispered about love and desire. Achingly, she reminded herself where she was. Her sisters were Realms away, likely preparing to meet their own suitors. She was gone from them. 

Tears began to pool in her eyes, but she bit them back. The handmaidens were still working around her. This was no time for a Queen to cry. Instead, she pushed herself up from the blankets, her head swimming with nausea. The women did not notice her rising as they busied themselves with cooking, sewing, and whispering. It was strange watching their small feet carry them everywhere. Back home, servants moved about the castle in small orbs of light, attending to their duties while not disturbing their royal overlords. Here, the customs were so different. Out of the handful, she recognized only one of them: the redheaded girl who claimed that she looked like an Asgardian just before rushing her off to the festival. She'd had her hair pulled back behind her ears, tendrils of carefully curled hair falling down her back like spirals of flames.  In Alfheim, she would not be a mere servant. Her beauty alone would classify her as radiant and, therefore, noble. 

"Can you believe--?" one of the younger servants gasped.

"I knew he would return," the redheaded one responded.

"You only thought that because you fancy him, don't you?" the one making Llona's breakfast chimed in from across the room.

"It's not just a fancy!" she argued, her cheeks flushing a shade of hot pink. "He promised himself to me before he left."

"You mean before he was banished?" the eldest of them corrected with a sharpness in her voice that spoke of nothing but disdain.

The girl scoffed, carelessly dropping the sleeve of the dress she'd been sewing with golden threads. "He wasn't banished ! He's just misunderstood, that’s all."

"Still, 'ts risky business messing around with a prince, banished or not," the younger servant warned. At this, Llona's ears perked up. She was involved with a prince? Of course. Why wouldn't she be? Thor's eyes were kind, but that didn't mean they couldn't wander. She furrowed her eyebrows, silencing even the sound of her own breathing in case they'd heard and quieted their gossip. "I mean, what future can he promise you, Sigyn, other than one of misery?"

"He's already promised that upon himself," the eldest spat. "Just you wait until the Allfather gets his hands on him! Prince or not, he will pay."

Sigyn fell silent, the rosiness in her cheeks deepening to match the red of her hair as she returned back to her work. Their conversation died down to only the occasional glances of sympathy from the younger servants. Llona sat with this information swimming through her head. If her beauty would make her a noble in Alfheim, what title would it give her on Asgard? She hadn't considered the likelihood of Thor having possibly promised himself to another, but it wasn't entirely impossible. They only just met each other formally the night before, the treaty of their engagement being only a week old. What was this about a banishment? She'd have thought that he proved himself worthy of Mjolnir and the throne of Asgard ages ago. Those rumors were put to rest, as far as she was concerned. The eldest servant turned to grab more fabric and, noticing the Queen had awakened, rushed to her aid.

"Aye, my Queen! I do hope that our talk has not disturbed you," she apologized, bowing to her. "These girls, so young and naive y'know, they've gotten themselves all riled up because he's returned home."

"He?" she questioned, glancing over her shoulder at Sigyn. "The prince? I thought he'd returned yesterday."

"Oh no, not Thor. Not your betrothed, your Majesty," she hurried to assure. "The other prince, Loki, the treacherous fiend."

The mere utterance of his name, the villain that ripped her and her Realm from their happiness and brought her here to marry a man she'd only laid her eyes on in portraits, rage poisoned her blood. The prince she stopped to marvel at in the hall of portraits must have been him! Of course. That explains why he stood out amongst his noble family. The evil and cowardly will always stand apart from the righteous and the valiant. Llona's nose flared, and she did nothing to hide the indignation in her voice when she asked, "Odin has allowed him to return?"

The elderly woman nodded slowly. "You should have heard the commotion! The rattling of the chains and stomping of feet at such an early hour. Woke up half the kingdom it did!" She paused to click her tongue. "All that fanfare for such a criminal, it's just not decent. If it had anything to do with me, your Majesty, I'd've had his head the moment he dared step foot back in Asgard."

Sigyn let out a yelp of pain and held her hand to herself. The blood poured between her enclosed fingers. It would seem that, in the listening of the woman's words and the tears misting her eyes, she mistook one of her pale fingers as the white fabric of the dress and drove a needle directly into it. All the blood seemed to drain from her face as she held her trembling hands to her chest. The tears welling up in her eyes dripped onto her cheeks. Another servant rushed over with a towel, hurrying to wrap the bloodied hand before excusing the near-hysterical Sigyn with most sincerest apologies to Llona, who watched with a blank, almost annoyed, glare. The elder merely sighed and shook her head.

"Sensitive these kids are these days," she tisked, extending her hand to the Queen. "At least her injuries did not stain your gown. What would people think if you greeted a prince in blood stained garments? Even if it is that detested Loki." 

Llona accepted the kind woman's hand and rose from the bed. The movement only served to remind her of the mead still poisoning her body. Her stomach lurched and, for a moment, she feared she'd lose what little she'd had on her stomach. She cleared her throat, swallowing back the bile as she took cautious steps forward. The gown they'd prepared for her was not too different from the one she'd worn the night before. It was made of white velvet decorated with lines of spun gold. Her skin prickled with the memory of the last time she'd worn such a dress. They dressed her slowly, as she grew more anxious by the second. She wanted to look upon the face of the man who'd deprived her Realm of safety for so many moons, to see his eyes when Odin ordered his imprisonment or, even better, his execution. The elderly woman opened the doors for her to sweep out of her chambers the moment she was ready.  She followed other servants and guards as they hurried towards what she hoped was the throne room, searching for Frigga and the Allfather on the way.

Just before she could reach the Great Hall, the sound of furious voices made her pause. The rest of her party disappeared into the waiting crowd a few steps beyond her. A door outside the great archway of the throne room was cracked open just so she could see Frigga leaning on a table, palms splayed and jaw clenched. Llona furrowed her eyebrows and pressed further to the door.

"You cannot do this!" the Queen of Asgard insisted. "You can’t stop me from seeing my own son. I won't let you!"

"I can and I will," Odin's voice hissed from somewhere within the room out of Llona's line of sight. "You have coddled him for far too long. This is one crime you cannot weasel, bribe, or lie him out of."

She looked up as if she'd just been slapped with his words. "I--I'd never--," she started, but was not able to finish her sentence before Odin yelled a curse that nearly shook the pillars around her and shocked the words back down her throat.

"Loki's danger has extended further than Asgard, threatening the safety of all other Realms. I cannot stand and continue to allow for his rage to cause any more damage. This. Must. End."

"So you intend on imprisoning him forever? Your own son. A boy we have raised and loved since infancy." Her voice lost all sense of maternal softness as she stood up straight and demanded, "Is that the king you've become?"

"I am the king who puts his people first. A king who knows how to do what is best for them, even if that means throwing his son in the dungeons and reminding his wife of her place." He spat the last words like a snake in a tone that spoke of nothing but finality. 

Frigga's balled fists trembled, but she said nothing else to her husband as she turned to leave. Realizing the shame of eavesdropping on such a conversation, Llona hurried the rest of the way down the hall, reaching the archway of the Great Hall before Frigga approached. She seemed to be wiping the last remnants of tears from her eyes. Seeing her cry almost made Llona want to soften her heart, sympathize with her cause. A mother being ripped away from her child. Yet, Odin was right. Loki's actions caused her mother to be torn away from her too. He had too much blood on his hands to be redeemable. Neither said a word as they joined each other to stand on the right hand of the throne. Nobles, servants, townspeople, and warriors alike gathered together, peering over each other's shoulders and vibrating in anticipation of seeing the prisoner. Llona could not hide the disgust on her face at the spectacle they were making of the event. The man they were anxious to see was no prince like Thor. He was a daemon, a fiend who should never again see the light of day.

Just as the elder handmaiden described, the sound of chains and armored footsteps echoed throughout the palace. He was near. Sigyn appeared near the front of the crowd, her freshly bandaged hand clutching her necklace. A foul taste of dislike fell on Llona's tongue. The girl, no older than herself, had the face of a woman desperate to get one last glance of her lover who she was sure had been doomed to death. If only she understood his true nature, she would know well enough to detest him as much as Llona did. The clanking of chains grew louder as a host of soldiers escorted one singular man down the halls. Odin materialized on his throne, holding his kingly scepter. Frigga did not so much as glance in his direction, her face set hard in the direction of her criminal son. 

The light of the Sun illuminated his face from the shadows of the corridors the moment he stepped into the throne room. If she could, Llona would have willed her people to dim the light so no one could see the smug little smirk he wore. There was no apologetic air about him as he sauntered past the people he nearly destroyed. No, his face only warned that he would gladly do it again and again. Only his death would ensure the safety of the people. Frigga stepped forward as he approached and he paused in his trek to look upon her.

"Have I made you proud, mother?" he asked, a cheeky grin on his face. Anger boiled beneath the surface of Llona's skin. Everything in her wanted to crush him then and there. Take vengeance for her people, for her mother. 

Frigga's voice nearly trembled as she begged him, "Please, do not make this worse."

His eyes flickered to Llona. She clenched her jaw, forcing a deep breath out of her flared nostrils. Sensing this, his amused face only brightened. "Define worse," he replied, switching his gaze back to his mother.

"Enough!" Odin called. "I will speak with the prisoner alone."

Frigga pursed her lips, giving Loki one last worried glance before stepping back into her place by her king's side. Loki's eyes followed her, any lingering sense of gentleness or affection fading from them before he switched his attention to Odin. In the silence of the throne room, his footsteps echoed off the marbled floors as he took two bold steps forward, the guards keeping a tight grip of his chains. The Prince and the King glared at each other with deadly animosity. Out of the corner of his eye, he could also see Llona giving him the same icy look. Somewhere in the crowd, Sigyn whimpered.

Amused, he laughed, "I really don't see what all the fuss is about."

"Do you truly not feel the gravity of your crimes?" Odin questioned, his voice calm, calculated. "Wherever you go there is war, ruin, and death."

Loki dared another step closer, his chains tightening. "I went down to Midgard to rule the people of Earth as a benevolent god. Just like you."

"We are not gods. We are born, we live, we die," Odin explained. "Just like humans."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Give or take five thousand years."

Almost tauntingly, Odin shook his head and tisked, "All this because Loki desires a throne."

For the first time, the amusement fell from Loki's face. A sharp seriousness cut through his voice as he demanded, "It is my birthright!"

Matching his tone, Odin sat up in his seat, yelling so loudly it's possible the entire Realm could hear him, "Your birthright was to die!" 

Llona flinched, jaw tight and fights balled. Her eyes darted from Odin to Frigga, who stood with her back decidedly facing her. She held her hands like a prayer in front of her, but Llona could see the trembling in her arms. The Allfather's glance flickered over to his wife only for a moment and he settled back in his throne and softened his tone. But the damage had already been done. Sigyn burst into hysterics, stumbling over the crowd to make her way into the walkway towards Loki. Before she could reach him, a team of guards brought her to the ground and promptly dragged the screaming girl out of the throne room. Loki did not spare a glance or even stir at her outburst. Disgust soured Llona's expression. Frigga turned from her son and her kingdom. Her eyes met Llona's as tears began to spill over onto her cheeks. 

"Go…" she whispered, her voice shaking and strained. "see about Sigyn. I was not the only one who cared for my son. Ensure that she is looked after and not harmed."

Llona opened her mouth to protest, but Frigga's glare was harder than Odin's and struck fear only where a mother's glare could. Nodding, the elven Queen turned to head in the direction of her hysterical handmaiden. The corridors leaving the throne room echoed her footsteps through their empty golden floors. All life on Asgard seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for the ax to fall and hoping it was on Loki's head. Llona continued to drift through the halls as she listened for the unmistakable wail of a young girl whose heart was breaking. As she neared the gates to the palace garden, the sound of dragging chains somewhere in the distance interrupted the serenity of the perfect greenery. The ax had fallen. Betraying her, the edges of Llona's lips twitched up into an almost-satisfied half-smile. Justice had finally been served. Her people could rest knowing the villain will no longer threaten their way of life.

Almost at the same time as the chains, the sound of a girl sobbing louder bounced off nearly every leaf. The cobblestone pathway that carried it led Llona through a maze of shrubs and flowers that seemed to open their petals to her light as she passed. At its center stood a gazebo covered in lush ivy and vines popping with small white flowers. Stained glass filtered sunlight through assortments of blues, reds, and greens onto a deep green floor. In the center of the beautiful stillness, Sigyn kneeled, her body shaking with sobs that wrecked through her. With each tremor, the petals of the dying rose bouquet fell to the ground. Her hand smudged the white ribbon around it with dark mud. At Llona's arrival, she looked up with eyes still swollen with tears.

"Are you here to mock me?" she asked softly, hanging her head low. "The fallen noble born weeping over her doomed prince."

Llona raised her eyebrow. She knew a girl as radiant as her couldn't have just been a servant. Yet, her shock outweighed her distaste for the pitiful scene as she repeated, "Nobleborn?"

Sigyn scoffed, "Yes. I was born high, not a servant girl but the child of one of Odin's most trusted advisors. That was how I caught his eye…my Loki."

Her eyes fluttered shut as another tear snaked down her cheek. An expression of peace crossed her face, like she was remembering a better time, a softer time. Her intrigue taking over, Llona moved to sit next to her on the grass. In such close proximity, she could see the soft freckles on her tear-stained cheeks and the lighter streaks of blonde that accented her ginger hair. Everything about her stood in stark contrast to the darkness that was Loki. How could such a beautiful and lovely creature find room in their heart for such a monster? More importantly, how did that cause her to fall? All of the questions that buzzed around Llona's head blocked out all other thoughts. She reached out and tucked Sigyn's hair behind her ear gently. At the Queen's touch, Sigyn sighed and opened her eyes slowly to find Llona gazing at her with the wonderment of an intrigued child.

"What?" she sniffled.

"I'm sorry." Blush burned across Llona's cheeks as she hurried to drop her hand, realizing her innocence and rudeness all at once. "I just don't understand. How have you fallen? And why Loki? What does he have to do with this?"

Sigyn rolled her eyes. "It's not just some silly crush like those other girls make it seem, if that's what you think! Loki and I were in love. Honestly, truly, in love."

She held up the bouquet and more petals fell from its flowers. Llona pursed her lips. Against her better judgment, she brushed her fingers along the blackened plants. As if being painted by some invisible force, the ruby red color of the roses flooded back to the petals. Their stems turned to a radiant green that rivaled the garden. A smile fell on Sigyn's face as she lowered her head to breathe in the sweet aroma of her freshly revived roses. 

"We were to be married, you know?" she said, still smelling her flowers. "Before Odin made him into a villain, back when he was my prince. Charming, handsome, clever." Her fingers gently ran across the petals as her eyes drifted towards the domed ceiling. Something told Llona that she wasn't speaking of the sunlight in the stained glass as she whispered, "Beautiful."

Llona shook her head. "I don't understand. That was years ago! Shouldn't you have found someone else by now? Someone better? Someone who would bother to look at you when you're in the room. That fiend Loki does not deserve your tears, even less than he deserves your affections."

Sigyn looked up as if she'd been slapped. Tears pooled in her eyes again as she spat, "You've never been in love have you?"

Taken aback, Llona's face immediately felt a rush of heat. Love was something that was all around her in Alfheim. Most of the Realm's warmth radiated from it. With her parents, love was never something she had to worry about a lack of. Yet, this wasn't the type of love Sigyn spoke of. The love the Queen knew was all-comforting, and the one the servant knew was all-consuming. The two could never relate.

Llona shrugged, answering the only way she knew. "I love my parents, my people, my sisters. There are a lot of things that I love."

"That's not what I meant." She frowned and looked down at her flowers. She spoke to them as she continued, "I'm talking about being in love. Being kissed, looked at, touched like you're the only thing that mattered in the universe. You get one taste of that? You never want to let it go."

Sigyn rose to her feet, lowering her flowers. For the first time since that morning, her eyes were completely dry. Llona's head still reeled as she remained seated. What she spoke about…this 'love'...it must have been what she felt when Thor took her hand, when his kind eyes met hers. It explained the fluttering in her stomach and the racing of her chest. Now, more than anything, she wanted to see him and test her newfound theory. 

Still, one thing continued to bother her. She furrowed her eyebrows, still urging, "But why Loki? Of all people, why him ?"

With a sigh, she answered as if she'd already explained it a million times, "Like I said, he hadn't always been this way. I continue to love him because, I guess, there's a part of me that I always knew was a bit wild. Perhaps that is what drew me to him in the first place." Llona nodded, still not fully understanding but deciding not to push the matter further. She rose to her feet and smoothed out her dress. Sigyn bowed to her. "I must get back to work, but thank you for your ear and my roses, Your Majesty."

Llona smiled. "I should be thanking you, Lady Sigyn. You have given me much to consider and think about." She curtseyed to the handmaiden then turned to take her leave. Guards, servants, and nobles alike had all just begun to resume their rotations around the kingdom, the excitement caused by Loki's arrival seemingly fading away. She knew Frigga would be waiting to hear that she had obeyed her wishes and possibly tell her what became of her wayward son.

Before she could drift too far, Sigyn called behind her, stopping her in her tracks, "For whatever it's worth, Your Highness, I believe that you have a real chance with Thor! Just give it time." Llona turned to see Sigyn grinning the same mischievous smile as Loki had. "Perhaps that is something you can discuss when you visit him in the stables at the opposite end of the garden, just inside the palace walls."

Llona stammered, "Wha--?"

"If I can't have my prince, you should be able to have yours," she explained, her voice just above a whisper. "At least one of us can have a happy ending."

With that, she continued on towards the palace, leaving the bewildered Queen with head spinning. What she'd said about love and happy endings echoed in her head. She glanced at the palace. Frigga would be waiting. She looked over at the hedges leading deeper into the garden…closer to him. It would be worth a shot to figure out whether she was right. If she could love a monster, then how hard could it be to love a prince? Llona took a deep breath and turned towards the direction of Thor. 

The walk from the gazebo to the stables seemed to stretch on forever. Every turn only led to another then another and another until Llona was sure she was lost in the maze of endless green. Her hands trembled as she spun around, trying to regather her surroundings. The palace still loomed by, seemingly watching her with its ominous allure. She turned away from it and continued forward with her heart pounding in her ears. The gardens opened up to a clearing of lowly-cut grass that looked heavily trodden and was littered with hoofprints and leather scraps. At its furthest end, she could see Thor leaning over the window of a stable. She paused, taking another breath before making her way towards him with her head held high.

“Llona!” Thor called, dropping the brush he had just been using to groom the most magnificent goat she had ever seen. Its fur was so pearly white she was sure it glowed, or perhaps it reflected the pale sunlight. Either way, it enchanted her. “What are you doing here?”

A blush fell upon her cheeks and she hurried to pick up the brush for him. His fingers brushed across her hand when he accepted it from her. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. “I—I was just exploring,” she lied, stammering. “Is...is that your goat?”

It was Thor’s turn to blush now. He laughed softly, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Yes. Tangir has pulled my chariot into many great battles, more fierce than even our best warriors, and all the more loyal.” He beamed at his animal companion, patting its head affectionately. “A gift from my father.”

“He’s beautiful,” she swooned, daring to take a step closer. “Do–do you care for him...all by yourself?” When he nodded, she asked, “Why?”

“I’m good for more than wearing a crown or weilding a sword you know,” he joked, smiling at her. “You know as well as I that rulers always face an immeasurable amount of threat of being overthrown. I take comfort to know that, if something happened, I could get by as a goat herder.”

Before she could allow herself to think, she blurted out, “But I’d save you. We’d run away to Alfhiem and be rulers there.” Realizing the blush deepening on his face, she hurried to add, “After all that you’ve done for our Realm, the Light Elves would be glad to welcome you and your people with open arms.”

He nodded, his eyes drifting to the patch of grass between them. "Well, in that case, I will owe you and your people my gratitude. Let's just hope we never see the day I must ask your people to undertake such a task. They may find that us Asgardians are not always the best guests."

Llona giggled, patting his shoulder. He smiled and set his tools down. The Sun beamed down on his perfect blonde hair and illuminated his deep blue eyes. He really was just as handsome as his portraits painted him. Perhaps even more so. Noticing her staring, Thor cleared his throat and picked up a basket.

"Would you like a tour of the gardens?" he offered, extending the basket to her. "I hear Alfheim is known for its flowers that can be found nowhere else but growing abundantly in your Realm. This time of year, Asgard is also abundant in its flowers. Perhaps you can pick some to send back home and add to your gardens."

She nodded and accepted the basket from his hands. He wiped sweat from his brow and allowed her to lead the way away from the stables and back into the gardens. For a long while, the two walked in silence, only stopping when Llona found a particularly beautiful and blooming flower to pick for her basket. She could already see how her sisters would weave them into beautiful crowns and wreaths for their people. A wave of missing them washed over her, but with one look from Thor, it settled back to its usual dull ache.

Breaking the silence, she said the only thing she could think of asking, "Why weren't you in attendance…you know…for Loki's sentencing?"

Thor frowned, staring straight ahead. "I would rather not be there to watch my brother be thrown in a dungeon by my father. Loki may be a menace, but he is still of Asgard and he is still my brother."

Llona rolled her eyes. "Be reasonable, Thor! It was his very actions that nearly destroyed Asgard and put you in danger as well! Not to mention he nearly destroyed Alfheim. His actions are what forced our fathers' hands to create this outlandish alliance to undo even the smallest bit of the damage he's caused."

Thor paused in his trek, spinning around to look at the pouting Queen. Her crown was its usual halo of light surrounding her dark curls. She looked up at him with amber eyes like miniature Suns that stood out against her bronze skin. He took the basket from her hand and set it down on the grass to take both her hands in his own. "Listen, I cannot repay you for all the lives your people have lost, nor can I promise that they will never again see threat. Yet, I can assure you that I will do everything in my power to make sure that you are safe here. Loki cannot and will not harm you or anyone else. Okay?"

Llona smiled, feeling heat rush to her cheeks. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered all over her body. He gazed down at her with the same kind, blue eyes and smiled such a soft, caring smile. Llona questioned whether this was what Sigyn meant about being in love…or at least falling in it. Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned in closer with puckered lips, hoping that he followed suit. Thor, instead, cleared his throat and dropped her hands hurriedly. His entire face flushed a deep shade of pink as he knelt to pick back up the basket of flowers.

"I think perhaps we should be heading back. I can't avoid my father all day," he joked, laughing flatly. 

Llona said nothing, blinking and nodding as she tried to wrap her head around what just happened. She didn't fully understand. Sigyn said that's what love felt like. If that was true, then why hesitate? She fell a few steps behind him, her mind wandering back to the first time he'd laid eyes on her. There was no hesitation then. He had taken her hand without second-guessing both times. She had been so sure…

Without looking back, he continued on towards the palace, increasing his pace until he eventually left her behind. She slowed to a stop, surrounded by flowers whose petals seemed to be closing to her as she stood alone and staring up at the palace that glimmered in the setting Sun. 

Chapter Text

The sound of horses hooves trotting along the golden roads blended with the bustle of the marketplace. Stalls selling fruits, vegetables, cattle, and grain gathered crowds of Asgardian people, clinking gold coins and bargaining for the best deal. In the middle of the town square, children bounced about in the glimmering fountain, laughing as they splashed each other with the crystal-blue water. Court jesters juggled bottles of wine and mead through the crowd, only stopping to accept a gold coin or two for their troubles. The smell of freshly cooked meats and soil wafted through the breeze with the sound of live music playing from nearly every alleyway. As the carriage passed, it drew all eyes in wonder. Llona gazed back from the window with the same bewildered expression. Across from her, Thor watched her smile and wave at the children, unable to fight the grin forming on his lips. 

That morning had brought nothing but silence between her and Thor, both still mildly embarrassed after his behavior in the garden. If she could only find the words to express it, she would tell him how she spoke to Sigyn and how she'd never been in love before but wanted to see what it was all about. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to speak and he didn't offer the opportunity to begin. Even still, the way he looked at her when she'd first stepped out to accompany him and his family into town offered a bit of hope that, perhaps, she had been too hasty in her assertion of his hesitation. The thought left a warm blush on her face throughout the entire ride that worked even more so to keep her holding her tongue. Neither spoke a word to the other as the carriages stopped in front of the fountains at the center of the square. The townspeople moved in closer, some leaving their stalls behind and others pushing to the front of the crowd, as the rider dismounted. Llona heard the armored footsteps of the royal guards taking their station at the door of the carriage and her heart fluttered.Thor stepped out first, inciting thunderous applause and welcomes from his Realm. He bowed to them then turned, offering his hand to Llona. She accepted it and ducked out into the beaming sunlight. Just as they had the day she arrived, the entire Realm knelt at her feet. Frigga smiled over at the younger queen from in front of the carriage next to them, standing arm in arm with Odin. With the wave of the Allfather's hand, his people returned to their feet and, gradually, returned to their normal business.

A game struck up with one of the young boys from the fountain. He stood in the middle of a group of girls with a linen tied around his eyes, blinding him as they all called his name. Llona furrowed her eyebrows, tugging at Thor's sleeve to bring his attention to it before she moved closer. The boy stumbled in circles around the girls with his arms out-stretched. He couldn't have been more than ten and six years old with his hair being a deep shade of brown and skin tanned sienna from the sun. The girls around him tauntingly called out his name, stopping to giggle whenever he blindly approached one.

"It's a game," Thor suddenly began to explain behind Llona, startling her. "There are many variations of it, of course, but if they are playing correctly, one of the girls is his betrothed. If he can pick out her voice amongst the others, then it proves that she is his true love."

Llona pursed her lips as she watched the girls closer. Each of them varied with age and looks, and each wore a playful grin on their face. Each of them…except one. The longer the game went on, the more she looked on the verge of tears. Her blonde hair and bright green eyes made her stand out amongst the girls in terms of beauty, but her voice was small and barely audible compared to the others. Every time the boy moved close only to pass by her, her skin grew paler and eyes glazed over with more tears. Llona's heart sank. 

"Doesn't seem very fun," she grumbled, gesturing towards the near-crying girl. "It's a bit cruel, don't you think? Toying with that poor girl's heart like this."

Thor glanced down at her, but she avoided his eyes. "Well, how is he supposed to recognize her voice if she's so quiet?" he asked as the boy stumbled past again to approach another girl.

Llona’s eyes widened but she still refused to look up at him. Indignantly, she replied with, "He must not be listening then. Perhaps he's allowing himself to be too distracted to notice his true love is right in front of him."

He sighed and placed his hand on her hip to pull her closer. The act was so gentle, so natural, that neither realized he'd done it until Thor could feel his body grow noticeably warmer where it touched hers. He lowered his voice, no longer speaking about the girl or the game when he said, "She's impatient, trying to rush him into ending the game and choosing her rather than trusting fate to make the choice for them. It always does."

She turned away from the game, skin still warming his, to look up at him. Thor stood nearly a foot taller than the Queen and in such a position that the Sun created a hall of light around his blonde hair. His eyes were brightened with a gaze that seemed almost apologetic for its tenderness. Their closeness, the slightly-blushing look on his face, his hand holding her waist, it all worked together to remind her of their moment in the garden. The confusion and embarrassment produced by his rejection accompanied the memory. Without averting her eyes, Llona questioned, “And if fate makes a decision he doesn’t agree with, what then?"

“Then he will grow to accept it," he assured, taking both of her hands in his. His finger softly brushed over the ring he'd given her the night they met. A smile illuminated his features with the gentlest of light. He leaned down and, for a moment, Llona believed he was to finally give her the kiss she'd expected the day before. Instead, he whispered, "For who is he to defy fate?”

Rapturous cheers and applause rang throughout the market behind them, catching both of their attention before another word could be said. The game had caught more than just Llona's attention and, evidently, it had only just ended with the triumph of the young couple playing it. In the middle of the circle of onlookers, the boy had removed the linen from his eyes and was embracing his blonde-haired beloved. When he lifted her up to spin her around, overcome by his love and relief, Llona could see the streaks of tears that had dried on her cheeks. Though she smiled, her face still held a hint of sadness underlying her elation. Whether the boy noticed or cared, Llona could not be certain. Thor clapped his hands, laughing.

"You see?" He motioned towards the couple showing off their adoration for the swoons of their audience. "You worry for nothing!"

Llona pursed her lips. "Perhaps," she stated flatly, then turned away from the exaggerated display of affection. It did nothing but fuel her embarrassment as she considered her own predicament. If Thor had offered for them to play the game, she would like to think that she would surely decline. The girl's heart nearly broke with how long it took for the boy to find her. Her happiness quite literally depended on their winning. Llona did not wish to place herself in the same position and yet, she knew her own curiosity would overrule her better judgment. 

Neither of them got the chance to even begin to consider the possibility of striking up a game of their own because, at that moment, the children who'd been playing in the fountains ran over to toss a bucket of water at Thor. He gasped at its sudden chill, the water dripping from the leather of his armor and the cloth of his deep red cape. Llona laughed with the children at his shock, and continued to laugh as they all scattered when he turned to pick up the bucket and chase them with it. Passing the fountain, he scooped up more water and surprised one of the children by tossing it on them as they ran by. They screamed then ran faster in the opposite direction. Before long, it seemed all the children in the marketplace were running in circles around the fountain, Thor throwing buckets of water at them as they dive to avoid it. Llona watched their game from afar, a warmth radiating in her chest.

"He would be a good father," Frigga's voice spoke next to Llona, startling her. "The children of the Realm have always loved him."

Llona looked from Thor to his mother. She stood next to the younger Queen, grinning in a way only a proud mother could. In her hands she held a stack of leather-bound books and a basket of sweet pastries and jams. The gold lettering of the book titles on the black leather spines shimmered in the afternoon Sun. Noticing her gaze, Frigga slid one of the books from the stack and extended it to Llona. The golden title read 'The Aesir's Golden Realm: A History of Asgard'. 

"It's for you. I thought it may help you become more acquainted with your new kingdom" Frigga explained as Llona flipped through the thick pages of the book, her eyes scanning every page that caught her attention. "We learn more of our future when we study the past."

She closed the book to look up at Frigga, then glanced over her shoulder at Thor continuing to smile and laugh as he tossed water on the children. The warmth in her chest returned, this time radiating throughout her entire body before calling forth a rosy tint to her already dark cheeks. Thor breezed past her and, for a moment, caught her eye. The smile that followed spread across his face like a rising sun beaming over the horizon. He continued on with the children but, for just that instant, everything else seemed to fade. The market stalls, the vendors, even Frigga seemed to all disappear, leaving just the two of them in the middle of the square. The feeling was gone as quickly as it came and all the Asgardian street life came back into focus at an almost deafening volume. Llona sighed, running her hand across the cover of her new book and feeling the roughness of the warm brown leather. If only every day could be this lovely, she was sure she could find happiness. She was sure she would know, like Sigyn, what it felt like to be in love.

The younger Queen bowed to her elder then started further towards the edges of the town square's center. Positioned outside of a row of food carts were a few old, wooden picnic tables. Their woods had grown dark from rain and time, a few of the beams in the table beginning to split and show signs of constant wear. The area had been left almost completely empty, save for an elderly couple enjoying lunch together nearest the carts. Llona sat a few tables away from them. The wooden seat creaked but remained firm and stable beneath her weight. There, she flipped open her book to the first page and began to read.

Heimdall's eyes crinkled at Llona, observing her from afar at the side of Odin. His expression was one of pride and happiness. His companion's, however, was far from easy. Odin looked from her to Thor, grumbling. He leaned on his staff with both crows perched regally on his shoulders. Each townsperson that was unfortunate enough to cross his path too closely was met with an air of indifference from the Allfather and a glare of blood-red hunger from the crows. The chill alone was enough to make even the bravest of them hurry by with their heads down and their eyes averted. After a moment's silence, the Gatekeeper turned to address his King.

"She seems to be settling in quite well, your Majesty," Heimdall complimented, gesturing to the solitary Queen. "The young couple are warming up to each other. I trust you have begun to make arrangements for their wedding date."

Odin remained silent. His eye stared straight ahead but focused on something much further away than the food carts and townspeople. Heimdall pursed his lips and waited quietly for a response he wasn't sure would come. In their silence, a group of young girls approached Llona, giggling as they tripped over themselves. Neither could hear what was spoken from their distance, but Heimdall could see Llona's face light up as she nodded enthusiastically at their evident request. The girls lined up and, one by one, Llona fashioned a crown from the grass growing between the cracks in the cobblestones. At her touch, the twisted grass grew pops of flowers that stood out brilliantly on the heads of the girls. Heimdall chuckled to himself but, seeing the Allfather's unchanged grave expression, all amusement fell from his face.

Finally, Odin broke the silence with a voice that was cold and calculating, asking, "Am I not a man of honor, Heimdall?"

"Wha--?" he stammered. "Of course you are, Allfather! No one would suggest otherwise."

Odin looked at the Gatekeeper. His eye practically oozed the blood-red hunger, mirroring his crows. "I must tell you, Heimdall, that this alliance did not come with glad tidings. Alfheim threatened to plummet Asgard into an eternal night if I had not agreed. When I signed the contract, I was thinking of what was best for my Realm. You understand, do you not?"

Heimdall pursed his lips and nodded. "I believe I do."

“Then, in due time, Llona and Thor will wed. They will unite the Realms as promised. I gave my word and my seal so it must come to pass,” the King announced through gritted teeth. “Nothing will stop this union. Not even my son’s indiscretions with that mortal woman. Assure me, Heimdall, you will see to it that our guest is comfortable in her new home and that you will keep my son’s eyes from wandering.”

Heimdall bowed, but said nothing. The order of the King superseded the wishes of a prince. Yet, the favor of a friend carried more weight than the satisfaction of an overlord. The Gatekeeper stood at the center of these contradictions, feeling torn. 

“Just as I have upheld my honor, I also must maintain my sentiments towards Alfheim’s impertinence. Asgard was forced into this alliance. Such an act cannot go unpunished. You understand this as well, I presume?” Odin questioned, his face hard and unreadable. 

He furrowed his eyebrows and glanced over at his King. The Allfather was now staring straight ahead,. but his crows glared down at Heimdall. Shaking his head, he admitted, “No, sire, I don’t think I do.”

The crows’ wings ruffled and stretched themselves so far and large they appeared to almost come from Odin himself. Almost as if Heimdall did not stand before him, Odin spoke to the air with a viscous growl, “It is quite simple. If Caelus desires an alliance, he’ll have one. Yet, for his ambition, the price shall be his head.”

At this, the crows took flight, cawing and multiplying over the square until they formed a cloud of black feathers that swooped across the startled crowd. The birds moved as one to circle around the entire marketplace. Heimdall watched in horror as they momentarily suspended themselves in the sky,  blocking out all but a few sparing rays of sunlight.  Odin rapped his staff against the ground and the birds scattered, flying off into the horizon and disappearing as if they were never there. Across from them, Llona now had a small crowd of girls of all ages sitting around her. Some of them wore flower crowns while the others watched her fingers braid and tie new ones and reached up to grab them when she finished. The two men could hear them giggle and laugh, hear Llona’s voice as she described to them her techniques. The sight only heightened Heimdall’s previous conflicts and grief. He turned away from her with a heavy heart.

“Do as you must,” he whispered obediently.

Before the Sun was too low in the sky for light, the chariots were trotting their way back to the palace. This time, though, Thor had been called to take the ride with Odin, leaving Llona to sit with Frigga. Neither of the Queens seemed to mind the new arrangement, too preoccupied with their own dealings to make much notice of it. A cloak, large enough to fit two people comfortably, was draped over almost the entirety of their cabin. Its translucent fabric would’ve been completely transparent if it wasn’t for the shimmering magic surrounding it that let off a glowing, iridescent sheen. Frigga busied herself with mending it using a hooked needle and thread so thin it was almost invisible. 

Llona noticed none of this. She sat in the most-lit corner of the carriage and read quietly. Her eyes never left the book the whole ride, scanning the pages and practically reliving the story of the Aesir in her head. The only time she stopped reading was when they arrived at the palace and had seen the carriages off to be reset for their next exhibition into town. An offer for dinner was put forward to her and, respectfully. refused. She wanted too dearly to return to her book to be of much company to anybody. As she quitted them, Thor assured her of sending a servant up to her room with an assortment of everything being served in the dining hall that night. She thanked him, reopening her book before any of them could say another word.

Before she knew it, she was back in her chambers, flipping through the pages in the middle of her bed. She had become so lost in the stories that the fact that night had fallen didn’t even occur to her. Since she had called for no chambermaid or servants, there were no torches or lamps lit. She created her own light, eyes glowing in the darkness to illuminate their own way. Under its sheen, the story seemed more magical, more fantastic. Just before it reached the war with Jotunheim, the book ended. She frowned, turning it over to examine the brown leather that bound the pages together. On its spine was a golden number 1 that stuck out bright against the brown. Her grin returned. If there was a first edition, then there was possibly a second or even a third! Assuming the palace library would have such books, she leapt from her bed, still dressed in the gown from the marketplace. She grabbed her shawl and stepped out into the dimly lit corridor. 

There was not a soul to be seen. Most servants likely already went home for the night and the night guards would be at the front gates and doors or doing their nightly rounds. She was certain she could get from her chambers to the library and back without raising any alarm at all. With that conviction, she took a step forward but was almost startled back by a gust of wind and the sound of hurrying footsteps. Her heart was in her throat as she watched an outline of what looked like a person ran down the hall. Every instinct tells her to run the opposite direction, to go back to her chambers and ask Frigga about the palace ghosts and second edition tomorrow when she is safe under the light of the sun. Yet, curiosity proved stronger. As quietly as she could, she followed the figure, keeping a safe enough distance to be able to turn and run back if needed. The stranger kept to the shadows, avoiding archways and doors that they knew might attract more than the attention of a busy hand maid or lone servant boy. They obviously knew their way around the castle in a way that only an inhabitant would know. 

She kept a cautious distance behind the stranger, ducking around corners and hiding behind columns whenever they would occasionally glance over their shoulder for anyone following. The stranger led her deeper and deeper into the palace, into depths she had yet to venture. She had the nagging feeling that she probably should turn and run when the brightly lit corridors suddenly became dark and echoed the sound of dripping water on the stones somewhere nearby. It was only the outline of the shadow that she could still see and she didn’t dare to call forth light in case it gave away her position to her guide. A few dark and silent moments later, she spotted the arched entrance into a brightly lit chamber. Two armed soldiers stood guard. Upon seeing the cloaked figure, they tensed up, brandishing their swords. The stranger simply reached into their cloak and flashed something golden. Immediately, they stepped aside. Llona frowned. If this was how they were securing the palace, imagine how they were securing her realm. The stranger passed through them quickly and they resumed their position guarding the entrance. Llona approached them slowly.

“Halt! Who goes there?” one of the guards called out.

“Llona, Queen of Alfheim and future queen of Asgard,” she spoke boldly, stepping into the light of the chamber.

“Your Majesty,” the guard bowed slightly then straightened back up. “This is the palace dungeons. It is no place for an unguarded royal. What is your business here?”

Llona was taken aback. Who would sneak towards the dungeon? If anything, the stranger should have been running away from it. She peered over their shoulders. The cloak was just swishing out of view. A few more moments and they’d be good as gone. Her curiosity piqued even more so than before.

“I am here to...er…visit someone,” she tried, hoping they believed her partial lie. “One of my kinsmen resides here awaiting trail and I would like to see them.”

The other guard nodded, glancing at his partner. “Yes of course. We are not sure of their exact location, but please feel free to take a look around. There are guards posted at every checkpoint so if you need anything just give a shout.”

She bowed to them as they let her through. Hoping she wasn’t too late to find the stranger, she broke into a run as she hurried in the direction they went. Cells, barred with beams of light magic, were the size of her chambers with walls sterile white and held almost thirty prisoners in each. Some fought each other, others were grunting angrily either to themselves or to their partners. Whenever she passed, they paused to stare or charged the light beams only to get thrown back with a bright flash of heat. Llona tried not to make eye contact with any of them. At the very end of the hall where the stranger had ventured, she spotted them again. They took a sharp right and, a few steps behind, she did the same. The next room opened up wide and left very little room for Llona to hide in its open floors if the stranger grew suspicious. They didn’t seem to sense anyone following them anymore. They went all the way to the end of the chasm and finally stopped. 

Llona watched, frozen in confusion as they spoke briefly with the person in the cell before stepping up to the stone frame and gliding through the light beams. Only a power wizard or a light elf can do that. Someone who knew their way around magic, specifically that of light. A thought occurred to her that made her blood run cold. She tiptoed closer, hearing their voices even clearer now.

“I came as soon as I could,” said a familiar voice of a woman. “It was difficult to steal away what with guards posted outside the door of my chambers at all hours. I trust you received the furniture I sent you and the books. Have you read them?”

“Ah yes,” replied a man’s voice sarcastically. The sound of it confirmed Llona’s suspicion. She gritted her teeth, balling her hands into a fist. Loki, the prisoner and traitor of the Nine Realms, was in that cell and the woman? The very queen who was forbidden to ever see him again. “I’ve made myself quite at home in the dungeons. Very plush. Might even prefer it to my chambers.” 

“At least you’ve got a nice warm bed and a bookshelf and a chair. You’ve also got this entire cell to yourself,” she observed, obviously trying her best to sound cheery. “There are worse ways to spend an eternal sentence, my dear, much worse ways.”

“Anything would be more exciting than this,” he grumbled. 

There was silence for a while and Llona almost thought about coming closer, to reveal herself to both of them then run straight back up to Odin and tell him everything. How dare he be comfortable when so many good people died because of his actions. How dare he not be treated like the rest of the vermin traitors of the crown and thrown to the wolves or beheaded. Frigga may have a soft spot for the man he once called their son, but Llona knew Odin’s patience had worn thin. He was waiting for the smallest and most simplest reason to execute him and Llona was about to provide it.

“I cannot stay very long,” Frigga quaked. “The sleeping spell only lasts for an hour and I needed time to secure these books and food for you.”

There was another long silence. Then, Loki finally spoke up, “Thank you, mother.”

She heard Frigga sigh again. “I don’t know what happened to you Loki. You’re still my son, my little baby boy, but…something has happened to you. Whatever it was, it had to have been painful. Your eyes have darkened and smile dimmed. Oh, my dear boy, this isn’t you! If only you would just tell me—“

“I think you should leave,” he said, his voice tight.

“Loki—“ she started.

“Leave me,” he ordered, louder this time. “Get out!”

There was a sharp intake of breath and Llona watched as Frigga, donning her cloak again, re-emerged through the bars. Llona followed her all the way back up into the palace at a closer pace this time. Just before she could reach her chambers, Llona sped up to cut her off, making the woman jump. She looked up at Llona, tears streaming down her cheeks. At the sight, Llona hesitated, but her anger and disappointment spoke for her.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed, crossing her arms. "Visiting Loki after Odin specifically forbade it?"

Frigga's arm shot out, grabbing Llona's arm tight as she shushed her. "Come here you foolish girl!" Her pinching grip dragged the startled Queen into the double doors of her chambers, closing the doors behind them. "Have you gone mad? Shouting about at such a late hour in the corridors."

"Have you gone mad? A queen openly defying a king to visit a prisoner? That is treason, and a scandalous one at that." Llona accused, her voice rising higher. 

"Not a prisoner," Frigga snapped viciously. "My son. Loki is my son."

Llona all but yelled, "AND YOUR SON IS A TRAITOR AND A MURDERER."

Frigga took a step closer, her eyes narrowing as she said, "My son is an innocent and he is of Asgard. Until the day comes where you marry and be crowned Queen of this Realm, you are still a guest in my home and I will not tolerate you insulting my family in such a way. Your mother raised you better than that."

At the mention of her mother, Llona stiffened. Her nose flared from fury of her mother being used in such a manner to defend the very man who nearly destroyed her people. She clenched her fists. "First thing in the morning I shall be bringing this matter to Odin, before someone else catches his wife's transgressions."

She turned, beginning to leave. Frigga grabbed her arm once more and turned her around. "I cannot stop you from doing what you think is right, but I implore you to remember this when you have your own children. No matter who they are, you will be willing to crawl to the ends of the earth for them, to die for them. You would not allow for anyone, anyone at all, to separate you from them. Remember that when you approach Odin of my deeds and remind him that Loki is his son as well."

Llona snatched her arm away, huffed, and stormed out of the chambers, slamming the doors behind her.

Chapter Text

“Have you any idea why Father summoned us this early?” Thor yawned, stretching his arms above his head. 

The Sun had not yet fully risen above the horizon as they stood before the conference hall. Its golden rays glittered on the stone floors and surrounded Llona’s restless feet in a pool of light. Thor watched her in a sleepy daze of confusion as she paced in front of the door. Her teeth gnawed at her bottom lip and hands trembled. She looked like she hadn’t slept a wink that night and was still dressed in her flowing silk nightgown. Her crown of light was dim compared to the dawning Sun. 

Thor rubbed his eyes and frowned. “Something troubles you?” he questioned. 

When he reached out to touch her, she started, realizing for the first time that morning she wasn’t alone. Her conversation with Frigga, the treason she’d witnessed, occupied every waking thought. As the initial adrenaline of anger and outrage faded, feelings of confusion and exasperation soon followed. Telling Odin all she saw would certainly bring death unto Loki, that she did not deny nor care to acknowledge. But what of Frigga? Equally as guilty of disobeying the direct order of a King, she would likely face the same punishment. Yet, telling all she’d seen would also reveal her own eavesdropping. Is spying on a private conversation between the King and his wife equally as treasonous, another example of outright defiance to the crown? Before she knew it, she was pacing the floors again, drowning in the depths of her conscience.

Trying again, Thor offered, “Llona, I lend you my ear. Tell me what ails you and I will try to give counsel, if I can.”

Llona paused, finally acknowledging him. His eyes held their usual softness accented by early-morning sleepiness. Nothing in his face betrayed the kindness in them. She sighed, “It’s too much to talk of.”

He shrugged. “Try me.”

She took a deep breath. Then, pausing again, she reminded herself that this was not just some common servant or noble that troubled her. It was the Queen, the co-ruler of the Realm and his mother. Speaking ill of Frigga, regardless of reason, would surely turn Thor against her. Yet, time was winding up for deliberation. Odin would summon them into his conference hall soon. If there was ever a time to speak to him about this, it would be then. Llona took another deep breath, stopping in her pacing to stand facing Thor directly.

“If you knew of a treason to the Realm and the Crown being committed by someone you cared for, no matter how noble they try to make it seem, would you report it to Odin?” she asked, speaking as vaguely as she could. 

Thor pursed his lips. He was silent for a moment, rubbing his chin before answering with, “I suppose it would depend on what the treason was and why they would resort to such action.”

“How could you, as a prince, say such a thing?” Llona demanded, her nose wrinkling at the thought of Thor excusing Loki’s behaviors. “It is your duty to uphold the law. When you become King, your word will be the final say. Why would you allow someone to disobey?”

Thor chuckled. “You forget you are speaking to someone who has committed treason, going against my father’s word for a cause I knew to be noble.”  

Llona, realizing her mistake in confiding her predicament to him, turned away to stare decidedly at the golden doors forming a barrier between them and Odin. Her mind was far from easy, made worse by Thor’s indifference. Such behavior would never pass in Alfheim. A pang of homesickness hit her chest and she wished she could, at least, speak to her sisters. Their words were always as placating as they were wise. Before the tears stinging her eyes could spill over onto her cheeks, Thor placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.

His eyes bore into hers with a sincerity that rose heat to her cheeks. “I admire your desire to do what’s right by my Realm,” he assured her. “You want to be compliant and obey the Allfather, but not even he is faultless in his decrees. What he may consider treason, another might call honorable. All I’m saying is try to see things from all perspectives before you pass judgment.”

The doors to the conference hall swung open, ceasing further conversation. The light was dimmer in this room than the corridor as the windows that allowed in sunshine and breeze still had its curtains drawn. What low light entered illuminated the portraits of past wars and victories, heroes and villains. Odin sat at the head of the oval-shaped marble table erected in the middle of the room. Next to him sat Frigga. She looked much more rested than Llona and regarded the younger Queen with confidence and warmth. Llona could not return the sentiment. She sat next to Odin, choosing to let Thor take the seat next to his mother.

“I am sure you are wondering why I summoned you here so early, before even the servants are to report to their usual duties,” Odin started, breaking the concentrated silence. He glanced over all with the empty expectation of an answer. When he received none, he continued, “We must discuss preparations for your coming union. As I understand, Caelus has requested for a third of our soldiers to be stationed in Alfheim at all times. He has assured to provide them and their families with accommodation that match those on Asgard. Are you aware of what that will cost us? We who have only just welcomed our soldiers home from a war that has cost hundreds of lives.”

All eyes fell on Llona. She cleared her throat and sat up straighter. “If I may, Allfather,” she said gently. “the war you were fighting slaughtered countless of my people as well. My Realm was exposed to a threat unheard of since the Dark Elves. And, might I add,” she paused to cut her eyes at Frigga. “it was all due to your son’s foolishness. What my father requested was only reparations for the damage done.”

“Be that as it may,” Thor interjected before Odin could speak, “our numbers have depleted with all the lives lost. It will take time to rebuild our forces. If I had known beforehand about this stipulation, I would have advised against--"

"We cannot risk the security of Asgard while assuring it of Alfheim," Odin growled with a glare at Thor so frigid it's a wonder neither turned to ice. "Arrangements must be made to train new soldiers, replenish our armory, rear more horses. Until the time arises that Asgard's military force has returned to its former might, we cannot uphold our end of the alliance."

At this, Thor's face lit up. Odin's words…they meant hope. They meant that he still had time to talk his father out of this. To talk himself out of this. Yet, one glance at Llona, whose face was like a gray cloud swirling with a brewing storm, and shame burned through his hope to leave red flushed across his cheeks. Llona's eyes glazed over the Asgardian royal family as they stared back at her with equal expectation. The silence that hung over them was like a suspended moment before glass shattered. She took a deep breath to quiet the rush of blood from her pounding heart. 

With a notably controlled tone, she finally asked, "What does this mean?"

"It means your engagement shall be a long one. I had hoped that the date of the convergence would mark the date of your marriage, but it does not seem possible in our current state. Your father is a patient man. I am sure he will understand," Odin explained. There was a hint of something in his voice that Llona couldn't quite place. Something like satisfaction or…perhaps…mockery. He sat back in his seat, sitting regally as if it were a throne. "You will remain on Asgard until then."

That was what she was mostly afraid of. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened and shut wordlessly. There was no point arguing. It had been written in the contract both he and her father signed. She was not to leave Asgard until crowned queen of the Realm, until she bore Thor an heir and Alfheim's end of the bargain was completed. The stipulation had been added in to ensure her protection from an enemy Realm who might not like the idea of such a powerful alliance, but now? It felt more like the seal that locked her in a cage. She furrowed her eyebrows and stared down at the table, saying nothing as the dark wood gradually blurred with the haze of tears budding in her eyes.

“We must continue preparing in the meantime,” Frigga finally spoke. “A delay or suspension of planning and tradition might cast doubt onto the engagement and, ultimately, the alliance.”

Odin shook his head, his icy glare landing on his wife this time. "Do as you must. If Loki's carnage has caused such devastation to our Realms, I can only imagine the time it would take to rebuild all others. They shall be looking to us for hope and guidance. Ensure they do not see our fragility instead."

Loki. The very mention of his name brought back all the fury and hatred she'd lost at the news. It came flooding back into her veins with a vengeance, boiling behind her wet eyes as her glare shot up to Frigga. Instead of seeing her staring back with her jaw tight and chin sharp in defiance, she saw the face of a mother pleading. With one word, Llona could ensure that Loki never again saw another sunrise. Frigga would be banished and shamed for her actions, but Thor would never forgive Llona for it. She thought of what he'd said in the halls. The idea that nobility and treason were two sides of the same coin had never occurred to her. She didn't want to consider it a probability that Frigga's actions, protecting and loving Loki, could be both a bold act of defiance and an admirable show of love. She knew not of what to do with this different perspective Thor suggested. It made her uncomfortable and angry and piteous and outraged all at once. So, she remained silent, allowing the moment to speak to pass her by. 

“What about a ball?” Frigga suggested, easing the tension in the air. “We can invite the nobles and our allies from other Realms to see our continued strength. Morale is always increased with a ball.”

“A ball it is! We’ll set it for a week from tomorrow,” Odin clapped, rising from his chair. 

The Sun was illuminating the room more so now. Soon, with all the servants beginning their morning duties, their meeting won’t be as clandestine. Thor clenched his jaw, loosening a fist he didn’t realize he was holding. Despite Odin already making his way towards the door, Thor was the first to leave, storming past his father in brooding silence. Frigga didn’t move to leave. 

She stared at Llona with the grin of someone who’d just gotten away with a crime. “You decided not to tell him?”

Llona nodded, knowing she’d regret her decision later on but choosing rather to let it go. They stared at each other for a moment, Frigga’s head held high and hands folded neatly in her lap. The tension they held in their stares had been freed of the threatening air that passed between them the night before. No, if anything Frigga looked almost proud of the young queen.

“I figured,” Llona began, her words slicing through the silence. “If he must be imprisoned for the rest of his life, the least you can do is ensure that he remains alive and in his right mind.”

Frigga nodded and an almost mischievous grin formed on her face. “Good. Now, we must discuss my terms. You didn’t think you could just threaten a Queen and her son without there being consequences, did you?”

Llona scoffed, taken aback. “I promised to keep your secret! Is it not enough to have to live with the knowledge that my enemy is being pampered while my people have to rebuild a Realm he has all but destroyed while I am stuck here, useless to them until I wed?”

The elder queen shook her head. “As Queen of Asgard, your husband will be the warrior, the aggressor. He has to be. You will need to be his counterpart. Where he is fire, you are water. Where he is ruthless, you are just. This is what you must learn if you are to survive.”

“I don’t follow,” Llona murmured, even more confused than before.

“Consider this a lesson.” With a wave of her hand, a stack of books appeared on the table, as well as a neatly arranged basket of fruit. “Clearly, my cover has been blown. If you were to find me out so easily, who’s to say someone else won’t and immediately run off to tell Odin. If I am to keep him alive, it must be you to deliver these items to my son once a day. After I show you my route tonight, I shall find another means of speaking with him.”

Heat rose to Llona’s face again as her fury swelled. The audacity! The nerve! She opened her mouth to speak but anger kept her silent. She rose to her feet and followed Thor's thunderous example of storming out in a defiant silence. Again, Frigga only watched her go, saying nothing with a knowing smirk on her lips.

Thor trudged up the steps to the golden Bifrost halls with a mind far from easy. Heimdall stood watch, his back to the Realm as he faced the swirling cosmos. His golden eyes were sharp but unfocused, as if watching something further away than what Thor could see just before him. He joined his old friend in his quiet reverence of the infinite quality of the universe. To Thor, though, the universe didn't matter as much as what he could find hidden within it. Beyond the stars and galaxies, Jane was somewhere on Midgard, living her human life, eons away from him. Heimdall glanced at his friend, knowing what his eyes scanned the universe for, but saying nothing. There was no point in directing him back to the palace, where Llona stood on her balcony watching the sky and sharing Thor’s melancholy gaze. Both were searching for comfort and even the Gatekeeper knew they wouldn’t find it in each other, not now. He instead remained silent and watched Thor move to stand on the edge of the Bifrost.

“Father says,” Thor finally said, his eyes full of the cosmos. “the engagement must be prolonged for an indeterminate length of time.” He paused, furrowing his eyebrows and finally turning towards Heimdall. “Something of a lack in warriors and resources. I understood that Asgard had some losses, but none so substantial as to deny a Realm aid.”

Heimdall was silent, unable to speak in fear of telling Thor the full truth. Odin’s reasoning was solid, difficult to answer. His skill of deception was exactly what made him such a successful conqueror all those years ago. Thor did not know his father as such. Because Heimdall did, he kept his place, his secrets, and his silence. Thor stroked his beard, the gears in his mind turning despite the silence of his companion. 

“Why would he sign such an agreement if he knew Asgard could not honor it?” he questioned, although he did not expect an answer. Heimdall didn’t open his mouth to provide one. “There is no logic. No sense to any of this. No ball is going to fix the fact that Asgard will look weak to the rest of the Realms.”

Heimdall, allowing his curiosity and concern get the better of him, questioned, “And how did Llona react to the news? She must be devastated, considering what this means for her people and their safety.”

“She’s trapped here on Asgard. Father says it’s for her safety.” Thor paused to let out a humorless laugh. “Save the queen, but doom her Realm. I cannot make sense of it.”

Thor sat on the stairs leading to the Great Sword. A storm thundering through his mind. Odin was keen on keeping the alliance. That Thor could not deny. Yet, the hesitation is what made him want to question everything. It was enough being on Asgard, Realms away from where he wanted to be. Why prolong his suffering? His longing for Jane only increased the longer he was away from her. Heimfall sat next to his friend, removing his helmet.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, he suggested, “Perhaps it is to give you and Llona a chance to get to know each other better. To strengthen your bond.”

“It was never a bond I wanted to have,” Thor sighed softly. He looked out into the cosmos, eyes distant and sad. “I miss her, Heimdall. How is she?”

Heimdall let out an uneasy chuckle, putting his arm over Thor’s shoulders. “You want to rush a marriage, yet you pine for another. What sense is that? What do you plan to do when you are wed?”

He wanted to say “abdicate”, but putting such thoughts into words seemed sacrilegious. There was so much more at stake. So many others who depended on him. Yet, the marriage would assure that Odin was not watching him so heavily, that he could slip to Midgard to spend time with Jane. Even if it were only for a few moments. His bride would be none the wiser. He pushed back those thoughts as well. Such unfaithfulness would be dishonorable. His mother wouldn’t stand for it. Thor sat silently, letting all of these thoughts and the emotions that accompanied it well up in his head until he felt he would drown in them. 

“Would you not give Llona a chance?” Heimdall asked him, knowing where his thoughts had drifted once again. “She easily outshines the mortal any day. And besides, a King will lose his way always looking back.”

“I know,” Thor sighed. “I just want to know if she’s okay.”

“Why not direct this attention to your betrothed?” Heimdall pressed, his insistence growing. “She could use companionship more than you might think.”

Thor argued, “She was not the one I wanted! The one that I chose is worlds away and all I want is to know she’s okay. Tell me!” Desperation cracked through Thor’s voice as he all but begged, “Old friend, look into the cosmos and tell me what you see of her.”

Heimdall hung his head low. The act was strange, foreboding and Thor’s desperation only grew at the sight of this. The Gatekeeper tried to think of a better way to express everything to him. Odin’s request, the tone he’d spoken it in, warned him of the consequences on his shoulder should he continue to be a component in Thor’s infatuation with Jane. Caelus would not be the only one who would lose his head. He spoke slowly, carefully, picking his words with the caution of a man on a tightrope, “I cannot. Odin has forbidden it. You must focus on the future now and leave the past behind you where it belongs. Llona is the future and Jane…she is the past.”

Thor’s eyes darkened as the gravity of his words sank in. Odin was to keep him in suspended wait while also stripping him of his last comfort. A burning feeling seared through his gut. He rose to his feet, lightning crackling in his glare at Heimdall. The Gatekeeper rose alongside him.

“I have been made a prisoner of this treaty,” he said, voice just above a growl. “Loki’s rage nearly destroyed everything. Yet, I am the one who is punished.

Hiemdall furrowed his eyebrows. “You think you alone are suffering? Llona–”

“Her Realm asked for this!” Thor shot back. “Whatever suffering she endures is on their heads.”

Heimdall looked at him cautiously, eyeballing the prince who was beginning to sound more like his father. His words were tragically prophetic. The thought was unsettling. Slowly, with a low voice, he said, “Surely, you don’t mean this. Come, Thor, have reason. Jane will be perfectly fine without you. You are a King, or will be soon. Your responsibilities are on Asgard.”

Thor turned his back on the cosmos and his friend. His shoulders sagged like a man defeated. Although he whispered, his voice echoed throughout the Bifrost as he asked, “Is this your counsel, Heimdall, or just my father speaking again?”

Heimdall didn’t answer–couldn’t answer. Whether Thor could sense this or not, he did not know. He was gone before the poison of his words could settle in the air. Only a brief whisper of dust and lightning remained in the space he’d flown from before dissipating completely. Heimdall sighed before returning to his station watching over the universe.

Thor landed on a balcony that led to the corridor of the Great Hall. His mind fumed and anger stirred under his flesh. Every step he took echoed off the gold and stone floors. Servants hurried to move out of his way, sensing his mood and not wanting to escalate it any further. The only one who didn’t hurry to clear a path for him was the last person in the Realm he wanted to see at that moment. 

Llona hurried behind Thor who, in his haste, did not see the Queen speaking with her red-haired handmaid, Sigyn. She called out to him at first, but received no answer. His head was too preoccupied with finding his father to hear anything. She hiked up her foreignly-long Asgardian gown to chase after him, nearly breaking into a run to match his large, thundering steps. She caught up to him only when he’d paused to take in the uncharacteristically empty Great Hall. 

“Thor?” she called breathlessly. “Is there something wrong?”

He turned to face her, the confusion suspending his anger only for a moment. Realizing himself, he clenched his jaw, demanding, “Where…is Odin?”

Llona raised her eyebrow. “He has accompanied Frigga to the bazaar. They have a ball to plan and prepare for, remember?”

Thor gritted his teeth. Half of him wanted to storm down to the market right that moment and address his father’s further meddling. The other half, the side of reason, knew the scene would attract too much discord in front of the townsfolk. With the rage rumbling within him, he knew the discussion would end in a row that would tear the whole marketplace apart. He huffed, hot air forced from his flared nostrils. 

“Very well,” he spat through gritted teeth. “I shall wait for his return here.”

Llona pursed her lips. The blues of his eyes were alight with an energy she’d never seen. They had been that way since he’d left the conference room earlier that morning. She couldn’t blame him. After the meeting, and her discussion with Frigga, it took everything in the young Queen to not scream. She’d elected to, instead, stand on the sunniest balcony she could find. The warmth of the Light, the glow of its embrace, reminded her so much of home that she didn’t realize she had been weeping until Sigyn found her. She soothed away her tears with speeches about love conquering all. Whatever that might mean in Llona’s circumstances.

She smiled reassuringly, trying to remember Sigyn’s explanation of devotion as she suggested to her betrothed, “You’ve had a long day, as have I. Neither of us were thrilled about the news this morning. How about we take a walk in the gardens again? Pretend to be goat herders and groom Tangir. Get away from all of this, just for a little while.”

Her hand touched his arm, but he snatched it away. “Do I look to be in the mood for such activity?”

Her smile faded. She reached out to touch him again, but her hand froze with one icy glare from him. “Well, would you like to just talk about it? Then, perhaps, I could tell you about what has happened. A development has occurred regarding our earlier conversation. You know, the one we spoke of this morning?” She paused, hoping to see a form of recollection on his face. A slight crack of relief for the distraction from whatever was ailing him. Instead, she saw nothing but the redding face of a raging prince. Trying further, she continued, “A request–or rather a demand–has been placed upon me that exceeds—or would exceed–even your tolerance. Even still, I’m torn about it. Maybe you could help me–”

“Help?” he repeated, his thunderous voice scaring away the crows sitting on the windowsill. He stepped closer to Llona, his gaze menacing and towering. His frame nearly blocked out the Sun. “Why can’t you solve your own problems? Help yourself? You and your Realm.”

Llona blinked, face red as if slapped by his words. “I do not know what you mean. Are you talking about the alliance? Or–”

Thor scoffed. “Is it not enough that I fought and won a war for the Realms? Is it not enough that Asgardian blood was shed for your protection?”

“It was an Asgardian who started the war!” Llona argued. “Loki–”

“And it was Asgard who finished it,” Thor shot back, his voice squandering hers. “Your Realm couldn’t be grateful for that, could they? No, they had to draft this mad treaty my father made the mistake of signing. Asgard does not want an alliance–or a new Queen.”

Llona’s lip quivered, eyes pooling. Under his glare, she could crumple into pieces. Her voice was small, pained, and cracking with unshed tears as she asked, “Whose wants do you speak for, Thor, Asgard…or you?”

He stood up straight, eyes narrowing as he glanced over her shoulder towards the vacant throne. His tone was a little too much like Odin’s, a little too final, for Llona’s comfort as he said, “When I am king, there will be no difference.”

He turned to leave, abandoning the stunned Llona in the Great Hall to process his words alone. She stood frozen in place and watched him go. All around her, it felt like the walls of the palace were caving in. Every stone, every flake of golden splendor fell upon her, crushing her under their weight. It trapped her, suffocated her, stole the words from her tongue and the breath from her lungs. This must be how Frigga felt those days ago when she was banned from seeing her son. In that instant, she understood Thor’s advice from that morning and Frigga’s desperate expression when she’d been found out. She understood it all too well.

The Sun had long dipped below the horizon by the time Odin and Frigga returned. Thor was nowhere to be found and Llona had retired to her chambers, having given all her servants the night’s leave. As they left, they all watched her pull a foot cushion over to the arched windows and sit in solitary. They snickered to each other, whispering about her thick coarse hair and untamed curls that coiled in a way completely foreign to their wavy locks. They pointed out with mocking stares how her ears pointed slightly in the glow of the Sun. She pretended not to hear them, having already felt the sting of words enough for one day.

For hours, she sat and stared out the window. Her bedroom overlooking the gardens faced the north, ensuring a near-constant view of the Sun. In its brilliance, she could hide and long for the embrace of her sisters and the comfort of her mother. For the second time since her arrival, tears streamed down her face. This time, though, she didn’t cry herself to sleep. She couldn’t even if she tried, as if the ability to do so evaded her completely. So, she sat there, feeling everything and nothing all at once. This odd mix was something that she knew she’d have to get used to if she was to remain on Asgard, if she was to be married to Thor.

A soft knock came at her door. She didn’t move to answer it. For the first time, she prayed it wasn’t her betrothed. The door creaked open anyway. She turned but saw no one. Then, the door shut itself and Frigga appeared, slipping the hood of her cloak off her head.

“I figured I would find you here,” Frigga said, her tone light. “All of your servants have gone, I take it?”

It wasn’t a question that required an answer. Instead, Llona sighed, “They are not the company I desire right now.”

Frigga pursed her lips. Her gaze was soft, sympathetic as she read the look on Llona’s face like a scroll. “Neither is Thor, I presume.”

Hearing her say it, the words spoken out loud somehow made everything so much more real. She was trapped in a Realm that scorned her and betrothed with no wedding date to a prince who rejected her. Her lip quivered, but she managed to swallow the lump forming in her throat to announce with a weak, “No.”

Frigga tisked, rolling her eyes. “If you can believe it,” she started, the curls of her lips rolling into a humorous smile. “they get their temper from their father.”

Even in the low lit room, Frigga’s smile emanated light and warmth. Her presence comforting in a way only a mother’s can be. Llona let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and allowed herself to smile. It was a soft smile, a vulnerable one only found on the faces of the grief-stricken who were trying to convince themselves that everything would be alright.

“Be patient with him,” she advised, voice cooing. “You both need time to adjust, that is all. Thor is not the heartless monster I imagine you think him right now. My son is a good man, a bit misguided at times, but good. Both of my sons are.”

Her last sentence struck Llona. While she could understand Frigga’s rebellion against Odin, admire her devotion for her sons, she could not excuse Loki or his deeds. Her eyes drifted to the line of a basket held in the Queen’s hands that shimmered in and out of view with every movement of her cloak. Her stomach dropped. Her earlier words had not been empty decrees, and her purpose for the visitation had not been merely to comfort. That was simply a by-product.

She sighed. If she must bear the punishment of the arrangement, there was no use delaying it. “Do you have another cloak?” she asked half-heartedly.

“With your magic, you won’t need it,” Frigga assured. She passed her the basket, finally bringing it into full view. It was a large brown wicker basket. The contents were covered with a deep green cloth. It weighed heavily in Llona’s hands. “The light barriers that bars the cells were made by your people. Pure light energy.”

Llona nodded, understanding at once what was being asked of her. She took Frigga’s hand and concentrated. Her eyes closed tightly as she focused on every form of light in the palace. She passed by furnaces bringing hotter than hellfire, molding blocks of metal into blades of sharp steel. Fireplaces that smelled of burning forests. Their warmth was inviting, all-comforting, and soft like a cup of heated honey. Lanterns being snuffed out by the night-shift palace servants. Sacrificial fires that smelled of beef fat, rich cheese, and wines. Finally, she reached the cell bars of the dungeon, gold with their enchantments and vibrating with power. This light was cold, mechanical, and unwelcoming. Llona shivered, but when she opened her eyes, she found herself face to face with the enemy himself.

He blinked, startled at first by their sudden appearance. Frigga was still holding onto Llona’s hand, only partially visible under her cloak. He took them both in slowly before turning his attention back to the book he’s been reading, The one he’s evidently dropped to the floor in his alarm. He scooped it up off the floor and resumed his place on his bed, flopping back to his page. Llona gritted her teeth, letting Frigga’s hand go.

“Who is she?” Loki questioned, his tone indifferent and eyes not rising from his pages. The cool easiness of his gait infuriated her.

“Queen Llona of Alfheim,” Frigga introduced, setting the basket on his bedside table. “A guest of Asgard.”

“A light elf a guest of Odin?” he questioned, finally sounding interested. He let out a dry, humorless laugh, turning the page of his book. “He must be going soft.”

Llona huffed as her glare shot daggers in both of their directions. Frigga said nothing, unpacking his backet. From it, she removed a stack of books, half a roasted lamb, and a basket of fruits. She arranged them neatly around his cell like a maiden decorating her chambers. Llona tried not to think of the families who had lost everything because of him as she watched him being pampered like an honored prince. The back of her throat burned hotly. Once Firgga finished arranging his room, she turned back to her warm-criminal son.

“The books I bring are entertaining you then?” she questioned. “I have brought more.”

“Is that how I am to wile away the rest of eternity? Reading?” he scoffed. “Is it too late to wish for the gallows?”

“I would not allow it,” Frigga shot back, her jaw tight.

Loki shrugged. “So be it,” he said simply, unmoved by his mother’s pain.

Llona bit her tongue. This was the man Firgga was trying desperately to save? Perhaps Thor really wasn’t all that bad. She could only imagine how he might’ve treated Sigyn. How, just like Frigga, she loved him too much to let him drown so she decided to jump in the deep end with him. Llona realized that perhaps she had been wrong earlier. Frigga’s devotion, her rebellion, made no sense to her at all.

The elder Queen sat on the edge of the bed, gently lowering the book in Loki’s hands to meet his eye. “Won’t you speak to me, my son? We are all worried about you. You haven’t been the same since–”

“We all? My apologies, how could I be so inconsiderate? It must be so exhausting for Odin and Thor to inquire after my wellbeing day and night.” he interrupted, a mocking tone of pity in his voice. “How unfortunate that I cannot have the freedom to show them myself.”

“You know full well what has placed you here. Your actions demanded a consequence,” Frigga chided, her eyes flickering over to Llona. Loki’s veiled threat had not escaped her, and her eyes burned with fury. 

“What of Odin’s actions?” Loki questioned. “I have done nothing he hasn’t, committed no sins he hasn’t committed. I am merely…bringing truth to one of his greatest lies.” His eyes fall on Llona as he finished with, “I who was and should be a king.”

“You are nothing,” Llona finally blurted out, unable to contain her anger any longer. Frigga shot an icy glare in her direction and she was silent again. Yet, Loki had heard it and his mouth twisted into a wicked grin of satisfaction. He’d been toying with her. Of course he had. She clenched her jaw, looking decidedly away and into the dingy corridors of the dungeons.

“Am I?” he asked, eyes narrowing. He moved off the bed to approach her slowly, like a jaguar stalking prey. “And what does that make you?”

“Be courteous,” Frigga warned, standing from the bed with an urgency. “Llona shall be delivering my packages for me. Her abilities allow her access more clandestine than mine. Already I have stayed too long. Odin will inquire after me shortly.”

Loki took one more glance at Llona, the amusement falling from his face. He waved his hand like a host showing his guests to the door. “Do not let me keep you then. We are all, after all, captive to the will of the Allfather.” He gave them a mocking bow.

Frigga sighed the sigh of an exhausted mother who is picking her battles wisely. She donned her cloak once again. “I shall travel by foot,” she tells Llona. “Our sudden appearance may alert the guards.”

Llona nodded and bid her goodnight with a gentle squeeze of her hand. Frigga took one last glance at Loki, who watched her near the golden barrier with a blank face completely devoid of emotion. In the bend of light and flick of her hood, she was gone. Llona switched her attention back to Loki. Without Frigga there, she felt no bounds, no containment for her fury. 

"I don't like you Loki," Llona stated, matter of factly.

Loki laughed softly, crossing his arms. "And why, pray tell me, do you think I would care?"

"Because I am going to be Queen soon," she said, holding her head higher. "My power will outrank your mother's, under whom you remain safe and alive. So, I would advise you to take care how you step. Your mother may be more forgiving of her son, but you are a traitor to the Crown and I have no mercy for men like you."

Loki narrowed his eyes and dared to take a step closer, but Llona stood firm. "If you are to threaten me, your Highness , I suggest you speak boldly lest I misinterpret your intentions."

"Fine," she drew herself up higher, taking another step so that they stood so close their noses practically touched. Her eyes burned so bright with contempt and fury, they nearly alighted with the hellfire that heated behind them. Loki's face remained calm, knowing, almost mischievous. "Frigga is a Queen, and more than that, she is my friend and confidant. She takes great risk to visit you here in your cell so you shall show her some respect and appreciation from this point forward. You mock her again, and the first act I do as Queen will be to have your head on a pike. Do I make myself clear?"

He took her words into consideration for a moment, glaring back at her with as much amusement as she glared at him with contempt. Finally, he chuckled, backing away and raising his hands in defense. He sounded almost comical as he asked, "Why wait until then? I am completely at your mercy here in this cell. If you did away with me now, no one would guess it was you."

At this, Llona's confidence faltered. She blinked back her confusion. "Do you--" she paused to take a deep breath and resume her bold tone. "You have a death wish? You want me to kill you...now?"

Loki's smile twisted into something of malice, something snakelike. "No," He sounded more like a monster than a man as he advanced towards her as quick as lightning, pinning her against the wall with his fist slamming a hair away from her head. She swallowed back a scream as her chest heaved. "But I'd like to see you try."

Chapter Text

Caelus grinned as he welcomed the last of the Light Elves home from their treks across the Realms. Their forms shifted from small orbs of glowing energy to full-figured bodies, their gossamer wings remained shimmering under the starlight. As they passed their king, each elf bowed both to him then blew a kiss up to the sky lit with the constellation of their departed queen. Caelus watched in revered silence as his people drifted through the streets. Some flew high over the grasslands that covered their small Realm, others simply floated a few inches above ground. Few walked, as Caelus did, on their bare feet. If they found it strange he preferred walking to flying, no one ever mentioned it. Diplomacy with other Realms required him to walk like an average man so frequently that flying became secondary. Besides, he liked how the thick grass felt on his soles, soft and dampened with sweet dew. Yet another connection to her. He gazed up at the sky for a moment, his smile softening with adoration and sadness as his wife twinkled in her constellation. 

When the last elf flew through the glowing green gates, they snapped shut and faded like the last wisps of sunlight below a horizon. Caelus sighed, putting his hands in his pockets as he turned to head back towards his castle where his two remaining daughters would be waiting to dine with him. The dark earth that snaked through the Realm was speckled with smooth white stepping stones. Lined on both sides of it were the homes of his people, tall structures of ivory limestone adorned with carved pillars and coated with lush ivy. Vines of lotus flowers draped from rooftop to rooftop. Some were charred, burnt black from attack or battle. Patches in the grassland that were once lush green had been blackened with blood or soot. Everywhere he looked, there were some remnants of the war that had stained his once elegantly beautiful Realm. Yet, the repairs were steady going, and the spirit of his people held fast. 

He walked beneath what used to be a canopy that was now crumbled and threatening to give way, gait easy as he breathed in the perfumed air. Despite the destruction of a war just past, the night was so beautiful, so quiet and serene, he almost forgot the emptiness of the road next to him where there used to be an ever-present warmth. Almost. The only solace he found in her absence was that she didn’t have to witness the near-destruction of her home. Once again, he gazed up at the sky and sighed, his heart pounding with a dull ache. 

When he looked down to continue on, though, the scene around him had shifted. Instead of seeing rows of more homes and his people buzzing around the streets on their return to their families and dwellings, he saw nothing but darkness. Deep, impenetrable shadows surrounded him on all sides, snuffing out even the faintest of light that radiated from him. He frowned, reaching up to ensure his crown of light still remained in its rightful place upon his head. Footsteps echoed from everywhere and nowhere in the darkness. While Caelus’s eyes glowed golden, the ones glaring back at him were deep and red as blood.

“Maliketh,” Caelus called. “Why the childish games? Come out of the shadows or return from whence you came.” 

A beast’s growl vibrated through the darkness. The shadows dripped from around the form of the Dark Elf King, puddling around his feet as he moved to stand directly in front of his opposite. His face frozen in a scowl so malicious it could strike fear into the hearts of the bravest of warriors. He was dressed in full black armor, a blood red cloak trailed behind him ready for war. Caelus glared back, unmoved in his blue silk suit.

“To what do I owe the honor of your presence?” he questioned, glancing over at his visitor who stood at least a foot shorter than him.

Maliketh’s fiery eyes drifted up towards the sky. The shadows parted only enough to reveal the constellation of Gaia still twinkling above their heads. “I came,” he started, his voice rough and biting. “to pay my respects to our dearly departed.” At this, Caelus’s nose flared but he remained silent as Maliketh continued, eyes drifting back down to him. “And to pledge my loyalty to the new Queen of Alfheim. Where is she, cousin?” 

He narrowed his eyes, ignoring his question to respond with, “What do you know about loyalty?” 

A throaty, humorless laugh echoed around him. “Evidently more than you. Striking up an alliance with the Asgardians? After what they’ve done to us, to our kind?”

“You mean to you? Your thirst for power outgrew your ability to maintain it. The Asgardians knew this and struck your kind down for it. Do not include me in your misjudgments. Good day.” Caelus nodded to his counterpart and started to turn away from him, but Maliketh moved to step in front of him again.

“You think yourself one of them? I never took you for a fool, cousin.” A smirk formed across his pale gray lips as he added, “Or perhaps, in your grief, you’ve succumbed to weakness.”

Caelus stiffened, clenching his jaw as his fists tightened by his sides. “It is you who are the fool. For a millenia, you have been trying to seize power by force. I have bided my time, chosen my battles wisely. In doing so, my daughter will be queen of one of the most powerful kingdoms in all the Nine Realms, her title granting her a seat on the High Council. Could a fool succeed in attaining such an unprecedented amount of power for his Realm without spilling a single drop of blood? No, Maliketh, I very much think not.”

“And you believe selling your child to the Asgardians assures you power?” He paced around the King of Light Elves slowly, measuring him with his eyes and doing nothing to hide the distaste on his tongue. “With the convergence drawing nearer each day, pulling the Aether closer to our grasp, you chose their side?” 

“Not only power, cousin, but protection. Eternal sunlight in exchange for eternal protection against anyone who dares challenge us. You know as well as I that, Aether or no Aether, you simply do not have the might to challenge the Allfather in strength alone. You can call it foolishness or weakness however you’d like. I call it survival.”

The two elves glared at each other. A rivalry as old as time shattering into pure hatred in a moment. Maliketh regarded his cousin, the only other being on their side of the universe who was of his kind. Determination made his eyes burn even brighter until they were like two infernos attempting to melt the honey gold of Caelus’ stare. A thought occurred to him that made his smirk return. 

“I warn you now. When what has been stolen from us is returned, there will be war,” He turned to retreat into the shadows, his voice reverberating around the darkness as he spoke. “You have turned your back on your kind, cousin. Your alliance with the Asgardians may protect you for now…but, when the line between Aesir and elf is drawn, who will protect you from them ?”

The shadows around Caelus melted back into the ground around his feet, leaving the king alone on the now vacant path.

Thor grunted as he slashed his sword, slicing through the thick burlap of the sparring dummy. It spilled its guts of hay and cotton onto the grass. He huffed, shoving his blade deeper until it had the whole dummy impaled on itself. Placing both hands on the hilt, he lifted the blade in a quick, upwards motion. The seam of the dummy sliced open and ripped in half. Pathetically, it slumped to the ground. Hay and cotton rained around its remains. Thor glared down at it, unsatisfied with the carnage. 

"I would not want to be whoever that was," the familiar voice of Fandral whistled. Thor turned to see his old friend approaching from the gardens. He was dressed in his official metal and gold palace armor. Unlike Thor, he carried a bright, carefree grin on his face. He paused and gestured to the remains of the dummies who also seemed to have met the same fate that day. "Or whoever they were."

Thor rolled his eyes and set his sword down next to Mjolnir. The line of dummies he'd had palace servants make and set up for him that morning were all gone, sliced apart by the fury of a blade or crushed with the heaviness of a hammer. He would have to send for more if he was to continue. He sat on a stump and greedily gulped down water from his jug before he asked, "What brings you here? I thought my father requested all warriors to be on guard today."

"I am," he answered, his smile widening. "I'm guarding you . My orders are to escort you to the arrangements today and ensure that you not only show up, but you stay the whole time."

Thor clenched his jaw. The arrangements had been going on for nearly four days. Decorations and gifts from all Nine Realms adorned the Great Hall and palace corridors. Guests were already beginning to flood in, making it all the harder for Thor to escape all of it without notice. The only day he’d deigned to show his face amidst all the bustling of visiting royals and preparing servants was the day of welcoming for one of the Vanaheim princes. Yet, when he saw Llona on the other side of the entryway, when he met her eye for the first time since their row days before, he left before he could even catch a glimpse of his allied visitor.

The smile on Fandral's face faded. He knitted his eyebrows as he asked, "Have you still not spoken to her?" Thor refused to answer, choosing instead to glare at the sky. Fandral sat next to him on the training greenery. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. "You know, your lack of presence does not go unnoticed."

"I needed time to think," he explained, his eyes falling on the circular indentation on the top of Mjolnir. Llona's ring. A part of him wondered if she still wore it. Such a small thing, a minor sacrifice for the sake of appearances, came at no expense to him. He still had his hammer, he still had his Realm. Heimdall's counsel repeated itself in his head. Llona had lost more than him. Now that time had allowed the storm to pass from his thoughts, he had to accept that Llona needed someone just as much as he needed Jane. He'd lashed out, blamed her, hurt her. Swallowing his pride, he admitted, "I owe Llona an apology."

Fandrall patted his friend on the back, agreeing, "Yes, an angry queen is a dangerous one. Except, of course, in the sheets."

Finally, Thor cracked a grin. He laughed, shaking his head, "Must you turn everything vulgar?"

Fandrall raised both his hands in defense. "All I'm saying is, if you carry on like this -- and let's face it my thunderous friend, you will be -- you'll have that heir in no time."

The laughter of the two friends carried them through the gardens towards the castle. Llona and Sigyn stood in the courtyard on the opposite side of the towering structure. They walked side-by-side as servants hurried around the space, setting up the welcome displays for the day's visitors. The news of the royal wedding and upcoming ball spread like wildfire. All the visitors and guests meant more time spent in the thick itchy velvet the Asgardian maidens insisted she wore. That day, they’d dressed her in a deep blue dress that clung tightly around her body, complimenting her form but constricting it to near-painful stiffness. She struggled to breathe against the hold of her corset.

Sigyn held up the basket that held the flowers Llona had requested from the royal gardener the day before. Her curly red hair was braided down her back, a green ribbon tying it at the bottom. The task of carrying the basket around the castle grounds left her cheeks pale and flushed, making her freckles stand out even more against her pale skin. Llona plucked another lotus flower from the assortment of garden clippings. Crystal vases sat on pedestals lining the walls of the courtyard. Half of them were decorated neatly with a bouquet of colors and shapes that seemed to perfectly complement each other as ivy snaked its way up the pedestal and to the walls behind it. Llona worked diligently on her project, ensuring that each display represented both Asgard and Alfheim in perfect harmony.

Admittedly, the initial idea behind the project was simply to have a distraction, something to pass the time between welcoming guests and silence. Frigga threw herself entirely into preparations for the ball. She was never seen without someone noting down instructions and barking orders to the group of servants that followed her nearly everywhere, handling every minuscule detail of the event. The Queen was so preoccupied, in fact, it seemed she’d all but forgotten the arrangement she’d forced upon Llona. It wasn’t like she was complaining! The single time she’d met the other prince was enough to solidify her hatred of him. He was vile, arrogant, and should never again be set free. She found herself thinking about him again, her jaw clenched as she remembered the scream she’d nearly choked on as his fist hit the wall beside her head. How Sigyn could love him, she couldn’t understand. But…with one look at her calm face staring dream-like at the flowers, Llona decided not to hold it against her. She was young, possibly even younger than her. She’d grow out of it.

“Queen Llona!” a small voice called out across the courtyard, crashing her train of thought. Both Llona and Sigyn turned to see a small girl racing towards them as her mother watched helplessly. The girl’s hair was deep brown and braided in a halo around her hair. Her white dress was tied with ribbons of gold at her arms. She was too clean, too bold in her call, to be a servant. Briefly, Llona met the eye of the other women who stood with her mother. Each of their faces were impeccably white and dusted with pink blush, eyes sharp in their glare. When the little girl reached the queen, she panted as she repeated, “Queen Llona!”

She looked from the women to the girl and smiled. “Hello, little one,” she greeted, her voice warm. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“My sister, she said you can make crowns! You gave her one at the market the other day. It was like that” she explained breathlessly and pointed at the crown of woven flowers and vines Llona had made for Sigyn that morning. Sigyn’s hand instinctively reached up to touch the headpiece, having forgotten all about it. “Can you make me one?”

“Of course! Let’s see…” Llona examined the girl slowly. Her small, bright eyes were light brown flecked with green and gold. She gazed up at Llona with equal amounts of fascination and wonder. “Marigolds and lilies, leaves of a fern, and sweet grass.”

As she spoke, her fingers twisted the lotus around in her grasp. Its form shifted to become the yellow-gold petals of a marigold. The girl’s eyes widened as she watched the queen work. Every flower she picked up, regardless of what its initial type was, became exactly what she needed it to be to complete her gift. The base of vines and fern leaves grew seemingly from her palms as she twisted the stems of the flowers into the crown. Within seconds, she had a perfect crown of flowers and leaves gleaming in her hands. The girl could barely contain her excitement as Llona moved to place it upon her head.

Before the crown could touch a single hair on her head, a hand snatched her back with such quick force the girl nearly fell. “I think not ,” a harsh voice snapped like a crack of whip. Llona looked up to see the scowling face of the girl’s mother, red as a fire and eyes burning twice as hot. “We need no gifts from an elf . ”

“Mooooom,” the girl whined, rolling her eyes. “She’s no elf, she’s Queen Llona.”

The woman considered her with a mouth turned up as if tasting something dreadful. “She may be a queen where she comes from, but here?” She stepped forward to Llona, pushing her child behind her as she finished, “An elf is nothing but an elf. ”

Llona tried to keep her eyes even and face devoid of the emotion beginning to swell in her stomach. She wasn’t sure which was worse: the noblewoman’s words or the girl’s confused and darkening stare. With a huff, the woman took her daughter by the hand, squeezing it so hard the little girl yelped in pain and shock. Llona said nothing as they departed from her. The flower crown drooped lifelessly in her hands. Sigyn patted her back. Llona looked to her, suddenly remembering her presence. The sounds of the courtyard rushed back to her ears before she’d realized the world had gone silent. It came back loudly, booming in her ears to flood out the thudding pulse under her skin.

“It’s alright,” her companion cooed, patting her back again. “Take no notice of them.” Sigyn frowned as the noblewomen swept past them, sneering at Llona and Sigyn. “These nobles…take it from me: they all share one mind that’s not worth what a beggar would toss.” 

Llona remained silent. It felt foolish and shameful, but tears burned in her eyes anyway. She gulped down the knot in her throat. The hatred, the disgust in the face of the Asgardian nobles…perhaps that was why Thor regarded her so coldly. Her heart shattered at the thought of being betrothed to a man who could not stand even the thought of her. She thought of Thor looking at her the way the woman did, the way he had just a few days before, and the tears could no longer be held in the well of her eyes. Sigyn kneeled to pick up the flower crown that had dropped from Llona’s fingers. What was once a beautiful lively piece of gold, white, yellow, and green was now a withered loop of razor thorns and blackened leaves that crumbled with the slightest touch. The handmaid looked at it and sighed before tossing it into the basket.

“We are nearly out of flower clippings. Come, Your Highness, let us commission more from the gardener,” Sigyn suggested, extending a hand out to Llona. 

She looked down at it, then at her own hands that trembled in front of her still cupped to hold the crown that had dropped. From the corner of her eye, she could see the noblewomen continuing to stare from their corner of the courtyard. The air felt thick under their watchful eyes. When she did not accept Sigyn’s hand, the handmaiden took the arm of the queen and escorted her back towards the open doors of the palace. Thor’s eyes caught the glimmer of a light entering the Great Hall like the first rays of morning slicing through a starless night. When he turned from Fandral, his gaze met Llona’s. She froze at the sight of him, making his guilt sit heavier in his chest. Sigyn guided her forward as Fandral pulled Thor until the four of them met in the middle of the hall, the throne sitting like a boundary line between them.

“Prince Thor, Sir Fandral,” Sigyn curtseyed to both of them, bowing her head so a curl fell onto her forehead.

The hungry look in Fandral’s eyes did not go unnoticed by any of them as he lifted Sigyn’s hand to place a soft kiss on her knuckles, his lips lingering longer than they should. “Lady Sigyn, it is always a pleasure.”

Sigyn pursed her lips and took her hand back too quickly. Fandral chuckled, amused as she attempted to discreetly wipe the back of her hand on the side of her green dress. “Charmed as always,” she murmured.

Thor had not taken his eyes off Llona. He wanted to speak, to say anything to break the silence between them. A silence he was solely responsible for creating. Fandrall looked between the two of them, smirking. “Perhaps we should give our charges leave, don’t you agree?” 

“Are you sure?” Sigyn asked, her question directed to Llona who gave her a small nod. She pursed her lips, giving them another curtsey before fitting her hand on Fandral’s outstretched arm. Without Sigyn by her side, Llona once again felt alone. She wondered when she became so reliant on her companionship. There was so much between them that was different, things they would never understand about each other, and yet…

Llona looked from where Sigyn had turned the corner with Fandrall to Thor who stared at her. His expression was different than when she’d last seen him. In fact, everything was different about him from their last interaction. He wore his armor, a red cape flowing from his shoulders. His blue eyes smoldered and blonde hair fell in light curls about his collarbone. For once, his hands were empty of Mjolnir. The two walked in silence, nearly on opposite sides of the Great Hall, until they reached the one balcony empty of servants hanging decorations and nobles overlooking their work. 

Thor leaned against the stone barrier, the Sun catching his hair in a way that made the blonde look as if it glowed. His eyes now refused to meet hers. “Asgard has not welcomed this many guests in what feels like forever,” he started, motioning towards the Bifrost that twisted open before closing again. Another visitor entering the Realm. They watched it repeat the process two more times in silence before Thor continued, “My mother was right. A ball was just what everyone needed.”

The noblewoman’s expression was still fresh in her mind. That was not how Thor looked at her in the Great Hall, although his eyes refused to meet hers now. She found a sudden longing to see them again, to be steeped in and flooded with the depth of their color. Llona’s hand reached out to touch him, but hesitated. Remembering his words, his rejection, she dropped her hand, instead saying, “I have the feeling she is often right.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “More than I’d like to admit.” He turned, finally finding the strength to face her again. Her hair flowed gracefully down her back and flowed back with the direction of the breeze. He couldn’t help how his eyes dipped to the neckline of her dress and to the curve of her hips. His hands touched her shoulders. Their weight was heavy on Llona’s body but their warmth kept her from squirming away. It took everything in her not to allow her eyes to close and body to release the tight hold she had on her muscles to give into his touch as he rubbed his hands down the soft velvet on her arms to take both her hands. Their eyes never left the others. “Llona, I…I owe you an apology. You have given me nothing but kindness and I repaid you with cruelty. You did not deserve how I regarded you. I hope you can forgive me.”

She smiled softly. “It is okay. My mother used to tell me that forgiveness is simply one of the pillars on which a strong marriage is built.”

“Marriage…yes,” Thor sighed, dropping her hands and turning back to look into the landscape spread out before him. This side of the palace overlooked the deep forest, a sea of green cutting through the gold and brick of the towns spread across the Realm. From where they stood, it looked like it could go on forever. “As a boy, I used to stand on this very balcony and dream about escaping into the forest.” Llona furrowed her eyebrows as she moved to stand next to him, following his gaze to the trees. He motioned to the path closest to the palace that disappeared under the trees. “Every inch of the palace was well known to me. I knew it like the back of my hand even as a child. But the forest? The forest promised a type of thrill I hadn’t yet known. It called to me and I longed for it. Even now, after all that I have seen and done, I still hear it.”

“You want to run away?” she asked gently, turning from the forest to him. “Why?”

He fell silent. Though his eyes were on the forest, they seemed far away. All of him seemed sudden so out of reach it was dizzying. Wherever he was in his mind, she wanted to bring him back to her, to this moment where they stood side by side overlooking what will once be theirs to rule. She pushed his hair behind his ear to hold his cheek in her hand. He leaned his head into her touch, his attention returning to her. “Generations of my kin have shed blood and died to protect our place on the throne. Odin expanded its power beyond even his father’s comprehension. I am just to be handed it simply because I was born to him. For years, I had believed that the throne was what I wanted but now…”

“It’s not what you desire,” she finished. Her eyebrows furrowed and she placed her other hand on his opposite cheek. His skin was warm against hers. She hadn’t realized it, but they’d moved so close to each other that his face was inches from hers. Her eyes flickered down to his lips as she asked, “What is it you desire then?”

Thor pursed his lips. If she’d asked him before, he would not have hesitated to say Jane’s name. She would’ve been the only one on his mind. He relished in the thought of having her in his arms once more, resting his head on top of her as he breathed in her sweet shampoo on top of the cotton sheets of her bed. A part of him remained there, trapped in that space and time, and refused to move. Yet, another part was there with him, on Asgard millions of light years away from Jane but inches from the lips of his soon-to-be wife. It did not escape his notice how the Sun caught her sienna skin, giving it a slight sparkle that made her look almost translucent. His eyes must have been enchanted with the way he could not bring them from her lips, full and pouting and waiting.

For the first time in a long time, Thor found himself struggling for words. “I don’t—I didn’t…” he tried, the war inside him continuing to wage. His heart felt torn in two. She continues to stare at him with her smoldering golden eyes. He knew what she expected, what she wanted. He sighed, moving her hands from his cheeks to hold them in his own. “I just…need time.” She blinked and her head tilted to the side. The same pained expression he’d caused days earlier came spreading across her features. He hurried to explain, “Llona, you have to understand, this was not my doing.”

There was an edge to her voice as she answered. “It wasn’t mine either, but we are in this now and I want to try. Don’t you?”

He looked down at their hands. Odin caused this. If he hadn’t signed that foolish treaty, then they wouldn’t have been in this situation. They likely would have never crossed paths, much less had any sort of affection towards each other. It was not some sort of romantic fate that brought them together. If he’d had his way, he knew he would be back in Midgard within the hour, regardless of how tormented he felt about the decision. Once he’s gotten another glimpse into Jane’s ordinarily brilliant brown eyes, he would forget all about Llona’s shining golden ones. It wasn’t fair. Not to either of them. “I don’t know.”

“You…don’t know?” she repeated and snatched her hands away so viciously, Thor furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at her. What he saw was not only an expression of pain, but one of anger that exceeded anything he’d ever seen on her. Her voice trembled as she questioned, “Am I that grotesque, Thor? Has my elven heritage repulsed you that much? If I was Asgardian, would you still hesitate? Or what about Vanir? Would you value one of their princesses more?”

“No,” he assured firmly. “Llona I just need time, that is all.”

She frowned and clenched her jaw, “Time is what we seem to have an abundance of. Take all that you need.” Her hands turned to fists at her sides, balling the fabric of her dress within her tightly clenched fingers. She turned to storm from him, furious eyes burning. 

“Please don’t walk away,” he called after her. His arm reached out to grab hers rougher than he intended. She flinched and, for a moment, he could’ve sworn the Sun dimmed its light. Releasing her, he spoke softly in a voice he’d hoped comforted her, “Just…come with me…let’s take some of the horses and go riding together. The path in the forest takes you near a river that leads to a spring. We can be alone there.”

“I am afraid I am quite tired,” she responded almost robotically. “I shall retire to my chambers for the night. Please give your parents my regrets as I will not be able to make it to the welcoming this evening”

Before Thor could get another word out, Llona had once again grabbed the skirt of her dress in her fists and hurried away from him. A group of chambermaids greeted her upon entering her room. Their eyes studied her. Under their glare, she felt small, insignificant, weak. She clenched her jaw and turned away from all the pale faces of women who looked nothing like her and, likely, thought themselves better for it. As easily as shedding clothes, she dropped the facade of a full-figured body to morph into a ball of bright white energy that illuminated nearly the entire hall with her light. She moved from one light source to the next, transporting herself through the Realm at its speed. Before she knew why she ran or where she had planned on going, her body returned to its former form behind the Gatekeeper.

Her heart weighed heavily in her chest but she did not cry. No, she had run out of tears days ago. Besides, there was some comfort in being in the company of a familiar face for a change. Even more so knowing that that face can see a million other familiar ones. He smirked, knowing she approached but said nothing. They stood next to each other in silence for a while.

Finally, she asked what she’d been dying to know, “Can you see him?” 

“Your Father? Yes. He is returning home from the gates as we speak. Your sisters have prepared a wealthy feast. They are happy,” he said, then glancing back at Llona’s pain-stricken face, he added, “But they miss you dearly.”

“They cannot miss me as much as I miss them. There, they have each other and here,” she paused, gazing out into the cosmos with sad eyes. “I’m all alone.”

“You carry the spirit of your mother and the heart of your people within you. You are never alone,” he assured. When he saw that the pain in her face did not lessen, he turned to her. “Does this loneliness have something to do with Thor?”

Her voice was tight as she responded, “He is the man that I will someday soon marry, regardless of his complaints.”

Heimdall shook his head and sighed, “Although it may seem that way, I assure you his hesitations are in no way a reflection of how he views you. I am not biased when I say that Thor is a good man who follows his heart. Someday, he will be an even better king than Odin.”

Quietly, almost to herself, she wondered, “Will his heart ever lead to me?”

Heimdall stiffened only for a moment before chuckling a bit to hide the reaction and saying, “Only time will tell, Your Highness, I am a Gatekeeper not a fortune teller.”

Llona furrowed her eyebrows at this. “But—but you study books of prophecy! If there is anyone who knows the future of our happiness it would be you!”

Heimdall shook his head, already fearing that he'd said too much. “Prophecies mention nothing about the mental state of its subject.”

“But it must say SOMETHING ,” she insisted, tugging on Heimdall’s arm. “Heimdall, you are my friend. Perhaps the only one that I have on this side of the cosmos. So, if there is anything, anything at all, that you know could give me hope, I beg you to not conceal it.”

There was a long pause, the Gatekeeper’s face solid and unreadable but deep in thought. The tears she thought she’d been done shedding pooled in the bottom of her eyes. Finally, he spoke with a sigh, “A union between Asgard and Alfheim will happen and its merging will usher both Realms into a time of prosperity that neither have ever seen before. I can assure you of your greatness, of your power growing beyond comprehension in a way that knows no bounds. But of your happiness, I can only hope.”

She murmured to herself, "What is the worth of greatness and power if happiness is the price I must pay to have it?"

Back in the palace dungeons, Loki sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the shifting force field of light that contained him in his cell. The impenetrable force warbled and buzzed quietly to remind him of its presence as the one barrier between him and freedom. Beyond it, other prisoners were jumbled together in similar cells around him. The one directly across from him was no larger than his, but held nine or ten men compared to his one. He dragged his hands down his face and groaned as yet another fight struck up between his neighbors. The outer wall of his cell shook with the force of someone being thrown against it. Cheers of the onlooking prisoners aided in the commotion. He groaned louder but his voice was still drowned out by the noise. 

He'd spent the night testing out his abilities on his cell's barriers. Everything that he had been taught, every single trick and spell he could think of, could not break through it. His magic was so stunted that he found it impossible to even change into another form. He was trapped. The thought hung heavy on his shoulders and he gritted his teeth. He snatched a book from his ever-growing pile and threw it at the barrier with all his might. The book simply hit it like a wall and slid to the cell floor.

"That is not the proper way to welcome a visitor," a familiar voice joked. Loki turned to see Sigyn standing behind him. Her gossamer form shimmered and shifted against the cell walls, but her smile was clear and radiant. "Hello, my love."

Loki frowned and returned to his seat at the edge of his bed. "Sigyn," was all he said before he took up another book and tossed it at the barrier. It produced the same result as the first effort.

"Is this how you have been entertaining yourself? Tossing books?" Her light-hearted laugh mocked him. If this was another ploy of his mother's to raise his spirits, it was mediocre at best. He picked up a bread roll she'd sent with Llona and resisted all temptations to throw it at Sigyn as he aimed it at the light barrier. "This form won't last long. I am not so good at magic as you are, you see, but I had to come as I bring news."

Loki paused, with his arm still poised to make another throw. He still did not look back at her as he questioned, "What is it?"

“I have made friends with the elf queen!" she announced triumphantly. At this, Loki dropped his bread roll and spun around to face Sigyn. Her eyes twinkled and red hair looked like flames in this projected form. She showed no signs of aging, her face still the same youthful glow of the maiden he knew as if she was suspended in time. Yet, her beauty did nothing to take from the gravity of her statement. The god looked at her as if she was the book that hit the barrier and fell to the ground, the same piercing and hollow glare.

"What does that have to do with me?" he spat. 

 She blinked, taken aback by his question and the manner in which it was asked. Explaining slowly, she spoke as if he should already know, "My favor with the next Queen of Asgard will assure that our marriage is ordained the moment she and Thor ascend to the throne.”

“Marriage?" he repeated. It was now his turn to be astonished. "Do you honestly still believe that is in the question? What good could a doomed man do for you from his cell?”

“I will prevail upon them!" she insisted as she moved closer. "At my behest, they will release you from your imprisonment to allow us to marry and be gone in peace.”

Loki scoffed, rolling his eyes. How ridiculous! She must be speaking of a different elf queen than the one he’d met. With no humor in his tone, he joked, "The Queen of Alfheim would sooner see me headless than allow me to leave this dungeon in one piece.” His mind brought him back to when they first met. The fury in her eyes, the immediate and insistent death threat. Loki knew his fate was sealed the moment her coronation ended.

“I'll convince her otherwise," Sigyn argued. Loki sucked his teeth and turned away from her. When he picked up another book to resume his joyless game, she cried out, "You must believe me, my dear Loki, that I will do whatever it takes to ensure that you fulfill your promise to me.”

“My promise?" he questioned as he threw a book. It landed just short of the barrier, hitting the ground with a pop that echoed off the walls.

“Yes, don’t you remember? We used to dream of running away together, traveling the cosmos just the two of us." She took his hand in hers before he could reach for another projectile. Her touch still held that same warmth he once adored and, for a moment, he did remember. A glance back at her doe-like eyes flushed away all sense of nostalgia. "It surely has not been so long that your memory fails you.”

He snatched his hand away from her and hid his face from her imploring gaze as he reminded both her and himself, “That man you speak of died long ago."

“No, I will not accept that!" She shook her head, a sort of desperation building in her voice. "You are still my prince, and I’ve waited all of these years for you to return to me. I’m not--I can't let you go again. I love you, Loki! Don’t you see that? Tell me you see it!”

Her insistence, the tears building up in her eyes, her mere presence, it all worked together to reignite Loki's rage. He huffed, pacing the floor with his hands clenched behind his back. Images of the fight on Midgard against Thor and all it cost him to reach that point only to lose tremendously flooded his brain. Next to him, Sigyn began to cry as she softly begged him to tell her he loved her. He clenched his jaw and remained silent out of fear of what might come out if he spoke. The fighting raged on in the cell next to them and in his mind.

"I have sacrificed everything for you!" she all but yelled when he continued to ignore her and pace his cell. "This is not like what the elf is doing with your brother. I am not forcing you to love me for the sake of a Realm. We loved each other because we were made for each other. This is what you told me all those years ago. Don't you still love me?”

"I did…long ago," he grumbled. He cursed his past self for making a choice to do so.

"You must love me now then!" she asserted. "I have not changed. Do you see that? Look at me and tell me what you see?" 

Loki's nose flared as he turned back to look at her. Tears streamed down her red cheeks and her trembling hands were clenched to her chest. She stared at him imploringly, her eyebrows knitted. When he placed his hand on her cheek, she nuzzled into his embrace, eyes fluttering shut. Nothing stirred inside him. No excitement or boredom, no malice nor love. Just emptiness at the sight of seeing a former lover, a woman he would have killed for, in such a state of desperation and pain. He cupped both of her cheeks in his hands and kissed her hard and with an urgency that sent both of them staggering against the wall behind them. Her hands entangled themselves in his hair while he held her waist to him. Both became so lost in the other they did not notice the presence of another crossing the threshold of Loki's barrier. He only broke from Sigyn when his ear twitched at the slight sound of something moving behind them. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a fresh set of folded linens, new books, and a basket of fruits waiting for him on his bedside table. Reality washed back over him like a tidal wave. He staggered backwards from Sigyn, the emptiness within him nearly consuming all thought. Her form was now less of a woman and more of the last flickering flames of a dying candle. Another tear snaked its way down her cheek.

Crying softly, she begged, "Please, Loki, I don't have much longer. Tell me what you see. Tell me how you love me."

“I see…" he started, then paused. A golden letter shimmered on top of his new pile, catching his attention. He moved to pick it up, reading the inscription. It was no letter, but an invitation to a royal wedding. Thor and Llona's royal wedding. He crumpled the paper in his fist, turning back to Sigyn with eyes raging like a bull. "I see a fool so blinded by sentiment that she has waited in vain for a god who cannot love her!" He yelled so viciously, with such venom and malice that the commotion next door fell to a stunned silence. 

"Loki," Sigyn gasped softly before she disappeared completely.