Stolen Relic

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Kenna stood in the small potting cottage, staring after the prince of Asgard. She didn't know what to think. She looked back to the books he had left in her care. It was illegal for a slave to have possession of books of magic. No doubt concern that the slave would rise and use the knowledge against their master. She wasn't certain if the prince was aware of the law or if he had simply chosen to disregard it. Certainly one who was a master of magic among his people would know the strict laws governing it.

Either way, the prince had been kind to her and she would see to the task he forgot in his haste to leave. Kenna did not understand what had first brought the prince to the King and Queen's private garden. Never before had either princes visited and after the first day Prince Loki had returned every day.

As an elf her senses were enhanced, but even with such abilities she had barely heard him move throughout the days aside from the quiet rustle of a turned page. She had found out from the palace servants that Queen Frigga had ordered the library refurbished and expanded. As a result the younger prince, who normally spent most of his time there had been displaced.

The palace servants were quite pleased the prince was no where to be found as they claimed he often played pranks on them when they had the misfortune to stumble upon him while he was studying. Despite the rumors about him being a trickster he had seemed only quiet and studious in his time in the garden. In fact, in her few brief interactions with him he had been kind and polite.

It took her several hours to tend to the wet texts, and when they were finished she set about returning them. It was dinner time and the palace was mostly empty, everyone being present in the main dinning hall. So she risked being caught with the books and carried them back to the library.

She froze as she entered the room. It appeared as though whatever changes the library had undergone were completed days ago. There was nothing out of place. So why would the prince continue to visit the gardens?

The library was two whole floors with nothing but stacks and stacks of books. She closed her eyes, holding the prince's books to her chest and breathed in deeply. The smell of books, ink and old paper filled her nostrils. She wasn't sure why, but she had always had a fascination with books. The smell and feel of the ancient knowledge awoke something inside of her. It was like a forgotten memory she couldn't quite place that rested like a weight in the back of her mind. 

She coughed once and rubbed the skin beneath her collar. She didn't belong here, and she needed to get back to work. In her centuries of serving on the palace grounds she had never been in the residential wing. Slaves weren't allowed unless expressly ordered. Until the last week the only royal she had ever had contact with over the years was Queen Frigga in the garden. Even that had been limited.

She moved deeper into the library wondering where she should put the books. There were several desks throughout and she picked the one overburdened with neat stacks of books and papers as the prince's. The papers were written in scrawling handwriting and when she came across a slim gold dagger beneath several scrolls she was sure she was correct in her assumption. She stacked the books neatly and returned for the others. It ended up taking her three trips.

She didn't see anyone until the last trip.

"Kenna?" Frigga's gentle voice came from behind her.

Kenna turned to face the Asgardian Queen. She could feel how wide her eyes were, she was in a place she wasn't supposed to be with things she was forbidden to touch. She attempted to bow but when the pile of books nearly toppled she squeaked and snatched them back against her chest before she dropped them all at the queen's feet.

Queen Frigga looked confused for a moment her eyes dipping briefly to the collar around Kenna's neck. Then she noticed the stack of books in Kenna's arms. Her face soften into one of gentle indulgence. "Did Loki leave his books laying about the garden?" she asked as though her son were still a child and not almost a thousand years old. While still very young by Asgardian standards he was an adult.

Kenna kept her eyes on the ground and nodded. "Yes Queen Frigga," she said, covering a small cough with the back of her hand. "After the storms of this morning, I feared they would be ruined if left to the elements."

Frigga nodded, though impatience flickered in her blue eyes. "I'm afraid those were not natural storms, but thank you. Loki was called to attend a war council and will not be returning this evening. Please see that his books find their way onto his desk in the library. He will be displeased if he can't find them."

Kenna froze at the queens casual reference to a war council. Frigga must have seen something in her face because she stepped forward a stern look on her face. "There is nothing to fear. Understood?" Frigga asked sharply. 

Kenna nodded quickly and attempted to curtsy as best as she could with the books in her arms. "Yes Queen Frigga," she said and she fled down the hall as quickly as possible ducking into the quiet, safety of the library.

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Loki had been late for training, and as such was punished for it. His body healed quickly, but still somehow the injury persisted. He lacked the brute strength of his brother and Volstagg and while he had found ways to compensate for these failings the commander responsible for training the sons of Odin, General Torik, did not agree with his tactics.

As punishment for being late and generally for being himself, which try as he might Loki didn't seem able to over come, Loki ended up sparring first round against Torik himself. He earned himself some broken ribs, but if he wasn't mistaken Torik's shoulder would take some time to heal as well. Loki smirked at the famous general as he nodded gruffly and jerked his chin towards the training grounds, indicating Loki was dismissed. 

Halfway through training Odin appeared, watching his sons and the other warriors as they sparred. Unsurprisingly, the Allfather's attention had been drawn to his elder son. Thor was the embodiment of everything a warrior of Asgard should be. Thor was facing off with four of Asgard's best. He dispatched them easily despite them being armed and him not having a weapon.

Loki turned away from his father and back to his sparring partner. Siff was watching him carefully. "Are you ready?" she asked, clearly perturbed by Loki's lack of focus.

He nodded, his hands still loose at his sides. Some of the other men were uncomfortable sparring with Siff, but she was the only warrior who came even close to being as quick as Loki. The only female warrior of Asgard was also cleverer than most, and that was something Loki valued in an opponent. Siff was more than a capable warrior, she was one of Asgards best, and yet she was forced every day to prove she belonged. 

Siff was done waiting. She launched herself into the air, determined to catch the prince off guard. With more than half his attention fixated on his father and brother, it should have been easy to catch Loki unawares.

Loki saw Siff gather herself out of the corner of his eye and he forced his body to remain relaxed and appear vulnerable. When she moved, so did he. He moved back so fast had someone not been watching closely they would have assumed he had teleported. But he did not use his magic while sparring. He considered it an unfair advantage against his own people and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't quiet the dark voice in the back of his head telling him it was safer the fewer people knew of his abilities. He whirled with the motion coming around behind Siff. He aimed a kick at the back of her knee, spilling her to her knees before him. She moved with the motion however, throwing herself into a forward roll to put some distance between them.

By the time she was back up on her feet Loki was standing perfectly still behind her, his hands still loose and relaxed. She grit her teeth angrily over his apparent nonchalance. He was trying to show off because The Allfather was here, but she would not allow him to make a fool out of her. She had worked too hard to get to where she was.

Loki watched curiously as rage flickered in Siff's eyes and he sighed. It was so easy to drive most of the warriors to rage. Their rage made them clumsy and predictable and assured an easy  victory even without the aid of his magic. 

"Come now Siff, temper temper," he warned. Normally Siff was not as prone to bouts of rage as the others. 

"Temper indeed," Siff snarled, activating the dual blades of her sword.

Loki snorted and shook his head as she charged him once more. Loki dodged and spun around out of reach of her attack easily.

"Fight me," she snarled angrily as her latest strike was once more met with nothing but air.

Loki arched a brow. "Is that not what we are doing?" he asked sardonically flashing her a maddening smirk.

Siff snarled and attacked once more with a renewed fervor. She swung and twisted, fighting to catch the infuriating prince unawares. She smiled triumphantly when her attack was finally met with the satisfying clash of metal on metal. If the egotistical prince had finally felt the need to draw then she had nearly struck him. 

Loki parried Siff's attack's easily with his daggers. He was not as quick today as usual, his sore ribs were slowing him down. He pushed her until her breath was coming in pants and fought her until she was in danger of starting to make mistakes. As soon as she swung wildly for the second time, losing her footing he caught her sword between his two blades and twisted, sending it skittering away from them. He kicked out, catching Siff in the stomach and landing her flat on her back at his feet.

There was slow clapping behind them and Loki turned to see General Torik staring him down. "Not bad for fighting a girl. Maybe next time you'll not be afraid to face a man."

Loki turned his back on the General. He knew better than to give in to the man's goading. Especially when his father was looking on. He arched an eyebrow at the general, knowing he would get him back for this later. Why get mad when he could get even?

He slid his blades away and held his hand out to Siff. She glared up at him and knocked his hand aside as she shoved herself to her feet. She snatched up her weapon and stalked away as though this were all somehow his fault.

Loki sighed and glanced over to where his father stood, but Odin was talking with Thor and the warriors three. He turned to go, his ribs still hurting. Somewhere in his fight with Siff he had twisted the wrong way and the pain was now excruciating. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand straight. He would never admit in front of any of these men that he had been injured. He wouldn't give Torik the satisfaction. 

Whatever his father and brother had been talking about was interrupted as a guard came jogging down to speak with The Allfather. Loki hesitated, frowning as he watched the guard speak and hushed and hurried tones. Thor and Odin both looked grave and Odin at once snapped into motion. "General Torik the council chambers!" Odin called over his shoulder.

Thor looked up and met his brothers gaze. "Loki!" he called, waving him over. Loki obliged his brother, curious what had happened. It had to be something grave for a guard to interrupt The Allfather and Thor. 

As soon as Loki approached Thor began striding away back towards the palace. Loki fell into step beside his brother. "What has happened?" he asked quietly. 

Thor shook his head. "I do not know brother," excitement gleamed in Thor's eyes. "But father has called a war council."

Loki nodded though he didn't share his brother's enthusiasm. A war council was only called for one reason, and Loki didn't idolize war and battle the same way the other Asgardians seemed to. 

Thor and Loki were the last to enter the council chambers. Odin was standing at the head of the table. He lifted his gaze to see his two sons and he nodded to them as they took their seats. Once everyone was settled Odin began.

"Today Heimdall comes to me with grave news," Odin gestured over his shoulder where the ancient guardian stood silently in the shadows, the flickering of the torches reflecting in his golden armor.

"An old enemy, who was long ago thought to be defeated has come into Heimdall's sight," Odin reported gravely, his single eye sharp with ancient wisdom. 

"Who father?" Thor asked, his chin lifted confidently as he spoke.

Odin looked over the room. "Harokin."

Hushed whispers spread through the room. Loki pulled back, his brows drawing together in confusion. The Warrior Harokin had been a bedtime story his father had told Thor and himself when they were children.

"How is this possible?" Torik asked shoving to his feet.

"We do not yet know," Odin said gravely. "But Heimdall is never wrong about such things. We do not know his purpose nor his intentions...but we must be ready." Odin lifted his eye to meet those of his generals. "I want all troops battle ready," Odin ordered. "We will double our military presence in the other realms, and Heimdall will notify us of any movement of Harokin or a large force."

Loki leaned forward in his seat, "Where is he now? Harokin," he clarified, his voice calm despite the excitement of the men surrounding him.

Heimdall turned his strange eyes on the younger prince. "The Wasteland of Alfheim."

Loki nodded his thanks to the guardian and looked down at the table in front of him. There was nothing left in Alfheim. Why would the infamous Asgardian suddenly appear in a virtually empty realm? And why now after so much time? He frowned, it didn't make sense. How odd that Alfheim would suddenly be brought up after Loki had spent the last week with one of the last remaining Light Elves. There were too many questions and even fewer answers. He needed to get to the library and begin his research.

Odin continued to bark orders but none were directed at him so he let his mind wander. He tried to remember back to the stories his father had told, but it had been centuries ago. Harokin had never been one of his favorite stories. Harokin had been a warrior and as such had been one of Thor's idols. Loki's frown deepened as he tried to remember more. There had been some magical element he was sure, something that made Harokin neigh invincible, he just couldn't remember what it had been.

"Dismissed!" Odin's voice rang out, startling Loki from his thoughts.

Loki looked up to see the other men climbing to their feet. He glanced up at his brother. Thor's eyes were glittering with excitement over the prospect of what was to come. "Our time is coming brother." He clapped Loki on the back eagerly. "This shall be our turn for glory." 

Loki sank his teeth into the inside of his cheek as the pain in his ribs spiked again. His next breath was short but Thor's attention had already wandered and no one else paid Loki enough attention to notice. Thor and Loki walked together back towards the residential part of the palace. Thor was chatting eagerly over the prospect of an upcoming battle. Loki listened to his brother but said nothing. When they reached the library Loki slowed. Thor looked down at his brother in surprise.

"Are you not going to bed?" Thor asked in surprise.

Loki shook his head. "I have things to do."

Thor frowned. "I'm sure whatever trifling studies you have to attend to can wait until the morning brother."

"Good night brother," Loki said firmly keeping his face impassive so Thor wouldn't see his frustration over his casual dismissal. Loki waved off his brother and stepped into the library, closing the door firmly behind him. He didn't want to be disturbed.

He stalked into the library, casting his weapons onto the table in the middle of the room. He wished for a hot bath, but if he remembered correctly there was an herb that the healers had once given him to sooth his sore muscles. He didn't wish to make a trip down to the healers and he was sure the knowledge was somewhere in one of the many texts he had on healing. He needed to get himself taken care of so he could turn his full attention to the mystery of Harokin.

It was going to be a long night.

Loki hesitated when he stepped inside. For, sitting in neat piles on the desk he normally used, were the texts that had been rained on that morning. He stepped up to them frowning as he ran his fingers over each one. Every one of them was in near perfect condition. He shook his head. Kenna must have spent hours carefully drying each one and pressing it as the pages dried so the paper wouldn't crinkle. He found it surprising that Kenna had divined which desk was his. She was more clever than he had given her credit for.

He shook his head, pushing thoughts of the slave out of his mind. He needed to focus and get to work. He cast out his magic, intending to seal the room so no one else could enter. The magic rebounded however, coming back to him in an overwhelming backlash incapable of completing its assigned task. He frowned, the only way it wouldn't be able to seal him in was if there was already someone here.

He stilled, stretching out his senses. There was another presence in the library. He lifted his hand, calling his magic to him and he sent it out. The braziers lit and the room was immediately bathed in the flickering glow of the lamps. He moved around the lower floor, but didn't see anyone. No one was ever in the library, especially at this time. He climbed up the twisting staircase and walked through the upper stacks.

He came around the corner in the back of the room and stopped. Laying on the floor, her head pillowed on her hands and a book cradled in her lap was Kenna. She was fast asleep. Her hair lay pooled around her, brushed away from her face that was for once utterly peaceful.

Loki glanced around uncertain what to do. Slaves were not permitted in the library. They were not even permitted in this wing unless ordered. He had no intention of seeing her punished for helping him and he would gladly lie and say he had sent her here to return his texts. If someone else were to find her however with a book in hand in this manner she would be punished no matter what he said. This was the private library of the royal family for a reason. There was dangerous knowledge here. Knowledge that had to be carefully protected.

And yet he had an irrational urge to protect her as well. He wondered idly if it had something to do with her being a Light Elf. If it was something they put off, some sort of compulsion to protect them or a draw of some kind or perhaps it was linked to the strange magic surrounding her. If that were the case it made sense why she seemed to have been hidden away in the garden. He would have to look into it further.

He frowned, uncertain what to do. He didn't want to disturb her when she was clearly tired and she looked so peaceful. Resolving to leave the woman to her sleep Loki scooped up several healing texts from the upper stacks and returned to his desk below.

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Hours later Kenna shifted, groaning as she rolled over. She jerked awake as she realized she wasn't on her cot in the slaves quarters or the shed in the garden.  She was laying on the floor in the dark. Fear burned through her as the foggy shadows of half remembered dreams surged. They felt like memories, weighing heavy against what she knew. She coughed and wheezed, rubbing against her sore throat. 

Flashes of waking in darkness. Of shock at feeling a collar around her neck for the first time.

With trembling hands she reached up, touching the collar she had worn every day since...she frowned and rubbed at her forehead trying to remember. She had just had it. The first time she had worn it, but no, she had worn it since...the smooth, unyielding metal suddenly felt hot and too tight. Her breath hitched, coming in fast pants as she coughed once more, fighting for breath. She sunk her fingers beneath it and starting pulling. She whimpered as she realized it did no good. The pulling only tore at her hair and rubbed her skin raw.

Loki was pulled from his reading by the sound of movement upstairs. He initially ignored it, as he usually did when his reading was interrupted, but then he heard panicked movement and he realized it was Kenna. He stood slowly, setting his book aside. In the time he had sat reading his body had tightened up more and his stiff muscles protested the movement.

He was halfway up the stairs when he heard her whimper in fear. He hurried the rest of the way, a dagger already appearing in his hand. They were well within the walls of the Asgardian palace. He couldn't image an enemy strong enough to breach the walls let alone the wards he had placed on the room. When he came around the corner he pulled up, his dagger still gripped in his fist. There was no enemy here. Kenna had pushed herself up onto her knees and was pulling desperately at the collar around her neck. He slid his dagger away and approached her slowly.

"Kenna?" he spoke her name softly, not wanting to startle her further, but she didn't appear to hear him. She was in the midst of a full blown panic attack. When she started pulling violently at the collar he reached out, closing his hands over her upper arms, trying to still her before she hurt herself. The magic surged stronger than ever up both his arms and took his breath away. He had never felt it like this. It was attacking. Not just him, but her as well.

She gasped in pain and fear, her eyes were large and brimming with tears. She fought to pull away, but he was much stronger than her. "Kenna," he spoke her name again. When she once more didn't respond he gave her a gentle shake. "Kenna!" his movements were clumsy as the foreign magic had made his hands go numb where they were they touched her carmel colored skin.  

She whimpered in pain once more, her hands attempting to reach for the collar. Unsure what else he could do to protect them both he let his own power rise. It surged up through him crashing against the foreign magic like a lightning strike. She gasped and for the first time it was like she was aware. Loki looked down into her black eyes and shoved his magic through his hands, using it to shield her from whatever attack she was suffering from.

Kenna went incredibly still. For the first time in centuries she felt like she was alone in her own head and she could breathe deeply. It was the first gasp of air after breaking the surface of a lake. And then she was drowning again. Only this time it was in images and half forgotten dreams. It was too much too fast and she attempted to rip herself away from the hands that held her. Anything to make the pain stop. Then she heard her name, her name, as she remembered hearing it a thousand times from familiar and loving voices. She looked up at the eyes staring down at her and they were not the hateful eyes of the half remembered slaver in her nightmare. Instead, they were an incredible shade of green that reminded her of the forests she played in as a young girl on her home world.

"Prince Loki?" she asked in confusion, looking around. The prince dropped his hands from her arms and sat back on his heels, his emerald eyes grave as he watched her. As soon as Loki released the slave physically his power pulled back into himself. She dropped down on all fours and let out a shriek of pain, worse than anything before. Her hands clutched at the collar and she began coughing violently. Loki jerked instinctively reaching towards her, but hesitated, uncertain what to do. Everything he had done only seemed to make things worse. As quickly as the pain seemed to start she went eerily still. Her breath slowed and she sat up, looking around in confusion. 

Kenna was disorientated for a moment but then suddenly remembered where she was and how she got there. She was in the stacks. After her work was done she had returned the prince's books to his desk in the library. Instead of returning to her room as she should, she had walked through the stacks, greedily running her fingers over the soft leather spines and reveling in the sweet smell of leather and paper and ink. When she stumbled upon a book written in elvish she hadn't been able to resist. She had sat down and read until she fell asleep.

Now seeing the Asgardian prince crouched over her she couldn't recall where he had come from. She scrambled back as shame, embarrassment and fear ran through her. She felt achy and exhausted as she sometimes did when she woke. She could feel the moisture of tears staining her cheeks but she didn't know why she was crying. She swiped it away angrily as she cringed, awaiting her punishment. She didn't belong here and the prince was within is right to punish her.

Loki watched in confusion as the elf didn't seemed to realize at first where she was or what was happening. Slowly, recognition dawned on her face and then fear returned. Only this time the fear was directed at him not what had happened. She scrambled back, dropping her eyes to the ground in submission. 

He took a step away from her, holding his hands up to show he meant her no harm. His body was still tingling from the effects of the foreign power. 

"I'm so sorry my lord," she whispered in a low voice. "I know I-I-I shouldn't be here," she stammered as she scrambled back, wanting to flee.

He only frowned at her not understanding her fear. When her words came out in stammers and she cowered he realized then that she expected him to punish her for this. The thought made him sick. That she expected he would hit an unarmed female. Especially one who had just suffered the attack she just had. He gritted his teeth as he realized the abuse this tiny woman must have faced over her life. Being a slave she had no protections. If she had struggled with the magic within her before there was no one she could turn to. If she had confessed to having magic she would have been severely punished, whether it was her fault or not. The law was clear. 

"It's okay-" he started to say, wanting to ask her the million questions that were running through his mind. As soon as he spoke she immediately lifted her eyes to meet his. Tears swam in the midnight depths and the look of confusion and fear in her eyes made something in his chest tighten and stilled his tongue.

"Excuse me my lord," she whispered. "Forgive me," and she whirled and fled, moving as quickly as possible without running.

Loki frowned after the fleeing woman. He shook his head, not certain what else he could have done to help her. She had never actually acknowledged what had happened. He moved to leave and his boot caught on a book. He looked down, stooping to pick it up. He turned the book over in his hands and was surprised to find it was a book of old elvish fables. He flipped through it thoughtfully.

Of all the knowledge and power hidden among these shelves she had sought out a book of fables she should have learned as a child. Which meant she was either a simpleton or perhaps she was homesick. He thought back to the intelligent, impish light that had burned in her eyes that morning and settled on the later. It pained him to think of what it must be like for her to be here in Asgard, knowing she was one of the last of her kind and the fear she must live in from the uncontrollable magic that burned over her skin. He took the book, tucking it under his arm for later. He returned to his rooms then, puzzling over the mystery that seemed to surround the small slave. 

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