Stolen Relic

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The feast was one of the most grand in memory. Everyone living in the capital was invited to celebrate Thor's victory. Every child of Asgard knew the legend of General Harokin, they grew up hearing the tales of the greatest general in Asgardian history who betrayed his king. And now, the grandson of that King had defeated Asgard's legendary enemy. Not only defeated, but had done so without the loss of a single man. No one was going to miss the opportunity for such a celebration.

The All Father ordered the best of the best; food and mead and ale and music. All for the perfect night of feasting and dancing. Every servant in the palace was occupied with preparations for the feast. They were all excused from their normal duties so everything was perfect to celebrate the savior of Asgard. 

The feast was grander than Loki expected. Grander than he had ever witnessed, and the whole thing went straight to Thor's already inflated ego. Thor had begun celebrating with The Warriors Three early in the day, and by the time dinner was served he and Volstagg were in fine form. 

Loki was seated at his brother's side as was befitting his rank as Thor's second. After the food was served however, Volstagg dragged a chair up and wedged his large frame between the two so he and Thor could laugh together. Loki slid down, closer to Lady Sif who tensed and glared at him as though daring him to speak to her. 

Sif still hasn't forgiven him for beating her so handily in front of Odin. Sif had worked hard for her rank and even harder to be viewed as equal among the male soldiers. He had not intended to humiliate her, he knew better than anyone how difficult it could be striving for their acceptance and approval. Despite his intentions however, it happened just the same. All it had taken was a single careless moment on his part and in Sif's mind all of her hard work was destroyed. 

He opened his mouth to say something but the glare she shot him had him closing his mouth and taking another bite of his meal. Disgust flooded him as he realized she would never forgive him. She had certainly gained notoriety fighting in what was now being called The Battle of Harokin, but that was among the masses. Winning the respect of Odin and General Torik was no small feat and Loki had ruined that for her. 

Loki's head was pounding and as he sat, watching the revelers the tips of his fingers tingled with the ghost of power. He jolted, closing his hand into a fist in disbelief. It wasn't real. He was imagining things in his exhaustion. He reached for his goblet and just before his fingers touched the gilded cup he would have sworn he saw magenta sparks come from his fingers. He seized the goblet, jerking it back towards his body, glancing at those around him to see if anyone else noticed. But as usual no one was paying any attention to him. He closed his eyes briefly, wondering if he was going mad. As soon as his eyes closed he heard the echoing, sensual laughter of Magdol. His eyes snapped open and he downed the contents of his goblet in one long pull. When he set the cup back down on the table his hands were trembling. The mead helped and without comment he reached for the untouched glass sitting before Hogun. 

Following the meal Odin rose to his feet and a hush fell over the gathered crowd. "Asgard's greatest enemy of old has been defeated!" Odin called holding his arms aloft dramatically. "Our soldiers fought bravely in the wastelands of Alfheim against none other than General Harokin himself. One brave warrior rose above all others. No matter how strong or how sly evil might be there will always be a champion to challenge and defeat it. A champion such as the mighty Thor! And so rise up ye loyal citizens of Asgard and praise  these heroes."

All around him the people of Asgard leapt to their feet, clapping and yelling. Loki knocked back his wine, draining the gilded goblet in disgust. 

Odin motioned for Thor to come stand beside him. "A wise king never seeks out war, but he must always be ready for it. Therefore a great king will be both wise and strong. Thor Odinson has proven himself such. I, Odin Borson, on this night before all who stand as witness do name Thor Odinson my successor! A fortnight from now we shall crown the new King of Asgard!"

A deafening cheer went up and Loki looked around, wondering where the mead girl was. It was not in his practice to imbibe, a magic user without control of himself could be a danger to all around him, but tonight he didn't care. He just wanted to forget. And to do that he needed more mead. Where was a servant when you needed one? 

He froze when he spotted her. He hadn't realized Kenna had been brought in to serve at the feast. She was trying to slip between the much larger Asgardians who were all cheering and not caring where they swung their arms in their joy. Her face was pinched in concentration as she tried to avoid being hit. 

Someone yelled at her and she flinched, spinning around almost too quickly so the large pitcher overbalanced her. They barked an order at her and she dropped her chin and rolled her shoulders forward submissively. It was all he could do not to shove himself to his feet as injustice choked him. She didn't belong here. She had risked her life to save Asgard. The people were cheering for his brother's supposed victory when the real savior of Asgard was filling their cups. 

Another servant appeared at his side and filled his goblet. "Thank you," Loki said. The servant looked startled to be spoken to. She froze for a moment as though expecting to be yelled at. When nothing happened she curtsied and went off to the next. 

Thor returned to his seat, a pleased smile stretching across his face as he was clapped on the back and congratulated by everyone he passed. 

"What's the matter Loki?" Volstagg slurred, he took a long drink from his cup, spilling down his beard. He swiped carelessly at his face with the back of his hand. 

Thor glanced towards his younger brother. Loki was tense, his face creased into a frown. "Come Loki, relax and have a drink. We won! Now is the time to celebrate," Thor said clapping his brooding brother on the back. "You're supposed to be happy. If you continue to scowl you'll scare off all the fair maidens who would celebrate with one of the victorious from the Battle of Harokin."

Beside them Fandral tutted. "Didn't you know? Loki only has eyes for the serving girl," he said motioning towards Kenna with his goblet. 

The other's gasped theatrically and laughed.

Loki's eyes cut to where Kenna was filling Frigga's goblet. Kenna's chin was tucked to her chest and she kept her eyes firmly on the ground as she served the Queen of Asgard. Frigga for her part was staring at Kenna intently. Loki couldn't help but feel like his mother knew or at least suspected some kind of treachery. She was watching Kenna like she expected an attack at any moment. 

Frigga suddenly looked up, her eyes traveling from Kenna to Loki deliberately. Loki forced himself to look away and took another drink from his cup. He was at last beginning to feel its effects. Whatever he had thought he saw or heard had just been a result of his over tired mind. 

He cut his eyes back to Fandral. "I thought you too drunk to remember the incident," Loki replied tightly as his thoughts churned. He was going to have to find a way to alleviate his mother's suspicions of him and Kenna. 

Fandral flashed a charming smile and raised his glass in salute. "Oh, I never forget a beautiful face."

Siff smiled cruelly and leaned in. "Certainly not one that comes with the wrath of a Prince," she pointed out and Loki couldn't decide if she was making a dig at him or Fandral. 

"Dear brother," Thor's laughter boomed loudly through the hall drawing even more unwanted attention. "I've always known you to have more refined tastes than that. You need not settle for such..." he dragged off, chuckling as he motioned towards the elf. "You could have any lady in the kingdom all you need do-"

Loki gritted his teeth at his brother's easy dismissal of Kenna as though she were somehow beneath them. Loki rolled his shoulder to dislodge Thor's hand. He fought back the grimace of pain. He had forgotten about his injured left side. Seemed it wasn't completely healed yet. "Thank you brother," Loki quickly interrupted before Thor's urging encouraged the others to keep up their mockery. "But I do not, nor have I ever required your help wooing women." Anger swelled in his chest and when Loki smiled again it had too much teeth behind it. 

"Well then brother have at it," Thor encouraged motioning across the room where Kenna was serving. He chortled and took a swig from his goblet. 

Loki gnashed his teeth together. He wouldn't have Kenna be the focus of one of their cruel jokes. All but Hogun had reason to quarrel with him of late and he would not make Kenna a target for their anger at him. It seemed he could take the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. 

Loki scoffed. "A slave?" He challenged. "Please," he rolled his eyes theatrically. "A land which has born the fruits of conquest need not be conquered again." Loki forced his tone to sound bored. 

Fandral threw back his head and belly laughed while Thor patted him on the back. Fandral reached out and offered Loki one of the stuff olives from his plate. "I'll have to remember that one," he laughed. "Pray tell, if the slave has already been conquered, then what lovely lady does the silver tongued Prince of Asgard have in his sights this eve?"

They were mocking him but there was nothing new there. He turned his gaze from where Kenna was working to the opposite side of the room. His eyes roved over the ladies of Asgard. They were all the silk wrapped ladies of court he had been discarding for decades. His eyes landed on a tall, dark haired beauty. 

He shoved his chair back, downing the rest of his mead and stalked across the room. His head was at last starting to feel fuzzy from all the drink. He could hear the others chattering behind him, but he ignored them as he approached the woman. She looked up at him and smiled brightly, pleased to have caught the eye of a prince. She was willow thin and nearly as tall as Loki. She was dressed in royal blue which made her pale skin seem almost transparent. Her make up was without flaw but overdone, highlighting perfectly ordinary brown eyes. 

"Prince Loki," she curtsied deeply, allowing the front of her dress to gap, and leaving little to the imagination. When she looked up and met his eyes she smiled sensually making her intentions perfectly clear.

Loki smiled, though it felt brittle on his face. He held out his hand. "It seems you have me at a disadvantage my lady," he said with a teasing smirk and he lifted her hand to brush his lips across the back. 

She shivered under his touch. "Lady Sitka," she introduced herself. He recognized the name vaguely and realized she was high society. Her father was well connected and respected in court. He needed to distract his mother and this was just the way to do it. She would be over the moon to see her son finally pursuing one of the ladies she deemed worthy. 

"Lady Sitka," Loki repeated, straightening. 

Sitka snapped her fingers gesturing towards one of the servants without looking at them. "Get the Prince a drink," she ordered coolly. 

Loki kept his eyes on the woman in front of him as the servant brought another goblet of mead. The servant held the goblet out to him and it took everything in him not to look down and see if it was Kenna. He could feel her, but couldn't tell if she was close or still across the room. For some reason he found himself hoping she was as far from him as possible. It was a struggle to stay focused on the beauty in front of him. Something in his chest tightened and for a moment he felt almost sick to his stomach. But he hid his emotions behind a perfectly mannered mask. 

"Would you care to dance my lord?" Lady Sitka's voice drew his attention back to her. She was leaning towards him, brushing against his arm with a suggestive sparkle in her eye. Loki tipped back the mead and drained the goblet before he met Sitka's gaze. Instead of disgusting her, his show of poor manners only seemed to please her more. So certain was she in her ability to trap a Prince now that one had wandered near her web.

"Yes, I would like that very much," he said flashing her a grin as he offered her his arm. 

Across the room Frigga watched the slave's face for any sign of emotion. The elf had paused in her duties and watched as Loki led a woman out onto the dance floor. Quickly looking away she snapped back to work turning to the next guest and filling their cup while Asgard's victory was celebrated. It was a good reminder of her place. 

Frigga was pleased Loki had at last turned his attention to one worthy of his station. She had been pressing both her sons for some time now. She would have preferred one slightly less ambitious. Lady Sitka, though lovely and well connected, was a known social climber. To Frigga's immense satisfaction she was neither a slave, nor an elf. 

Frigga turned her attention back to the slave whom she had been watching all night. There had been no hint of the rebellion she had once seen in her eyes and the magic of the collar was intact. She found herself wondering if she had imagined the changes she had seen in the slave. It was not something she could afford to be wrong about. The future of Asgard rested on the slim shoulders of the strange little elf.  

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Loki was dreaming of Alfheim. But it wasn't the Alfheim he remembered. The one destroyed by war and covered in the ash of its dead. This was Alfheim covered in forests so rich and so deep the very air seemed tinged green. Every breath he drew in smelled of earth and fresh rain. 

Laughter echoed all around him. He turned in time to see a young girl with flowing silver hair run past him while others followed her into the forest in a game of chase. A child's bow bounced against her back as she ran. 

Then he was in the palace, surrounded by a radiating warmth and contentment and safety. He saw the back of the little girl as she skipped down the hallway of the palace, laughing and singing with other children with matching silver hair. 

Then the little girl was sitting on a bench, her face covered in her hands as she sobbed, heartbroken. She was wearing the robes of a priestess and there was a pile of books discarded at her feet. A tall, proud man wearing the mantle of a king crouched before her, his hands gentle as he comforted the crying child. 

Then he saw the same man, only this time he was laying in the mud, covered in blood on the fields of Alfheim. A small girl with silver hair knelt beside him, crying over him as he died. And Loki at last recognized them. 

Loki woke gasping. It was not his dream. Not his nightmare. It was Kenna. It had to be Kenna. Somehow, he was sharing Kenna's dream.

It took him a moment to realize he was not in his chambers. Beside him Sitka stirred in her sleep. He clenched his jaw and pushed himself out of the bed roughly. He shouldn't feel guilty. He had done nothing wrong. And yet, as he felt his connection to Kenna pulsing in his chest like a second heart, he did. He scooped up his clothes from the floor, jerking them on. 

He strode out the door and once he was oriented to his location in the palace he jogged towards the garden. Try as he might he couldn't shake the memory of her terror or her anguish as she cried over the dying king. The need to get to her was overwhelming. He teleported to just outside the small potting shed. He was fairly certain he remembered it well enough to teleport inside but he didn't want to take any chances. And more than anything he didn't want to scare her. 

He opened the door. It was dark inside despite the smoldering remains of a fire. Kenna was asleep on her pallet on the floor. One hand was clamped around the invisible talisman she wore, while the other was curled beneath her head.

Loki frowned, wondering if perhaps her holding the talisman in her sleep had allowed them to connect. If he thought back on it, this had not been the first night he dreamt of Alfheim. Kenna whimpered in her sleep and then grimaced, opening her mouth in a silent cry of pain. The collar was doing its job. Loki strode across the room in three strides. He knelt down beside the bed. 

Loki cupped the side of her face. "Kenna," he said his voice gentle. 

Kenna jerked awake her body tense, but when she saw who was standing over her she relaxed. "Loki," she whispered his name and there were tears streaming down her cheeks. 

"Kenna?" he asked uncertainly. There was something in her face, something that made him think that maybe, just maybe she remembered. Something moved in the dark depths and for a fleeting second she was there. 

"I-" she started to say and then she shook her head and the moment was gone. She opened her mouth to say something but stopped and a silent scream closed her throat. Her entire body tensed and she clawed at the collar around her neck.

Without hesitating Loki poured his power into her, he had to shield her. She gasped, wrapping her small, trembling hands over his and Loki lost control. Loki's desire to protect her was so overwhelming he slammed every piece of his power into the collar without hesitation. He was amazed the collar didn't shatter in his hands. His raging power forced the magic of the collar back and followed it mercilessly. His single-minded desire to protect Kenna was all he could think about, all he cared about. 

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In the palace Frigga jerked awake. She bolted up right in bed, a hand pressed over her heart. Someone else's power stabbed into her chest like a knife and she couldn't catch her breath. This was no spell or curse. It was a blind attack. 

Beside her Odin shifted in his sleep. "Frigga?" his voice rumbled quietly in the dark. "What's wrong?" 

Frigga's eyes watered and she held herself perfectly still as the screaming power tore through her leaving nothing but pain in it's wake. The power was desperate and angry and frightened. It seared it's way through her burning with the fire of a star and the deepest cold of space for what felt like an eternity. When it was at last done she was covered in sweat and shaking. Only seconds had passed.

"Frigga?" Odin asked again, stirring. He was waking up now. 

"I'm fine my love," Frigga assured him, though there was a tremble to her voice. "Go back to sleep," he was too tired to note her last command was nearly a plea. She didn't want him to see her like this. 

Odin shuffled and rolled over onto his side. 

Once Odin was still Frigga shifted out of bed and practically ran into their bathing chambers. She threw up as the memory of the pain haunted her. The power had been mindless and feral and there had been nothing she could do to protect herself from it. She splashed cold water on her face with shaking hands and looked up into her own reflection in the mirror. 

"What have you done Loki?" she whispered. 

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Miles away from the capital a witch who was not welcome in the golden court of Odin woke in pain. Unlike the other half of their bond she was able to block the juvenile attack easily. It had been chaotic and desperate. Nothing but a well orchestrated and far more powerful display of magic could touch her. 

Still, she liked the feel of his power and was even more impressed he was strong enough not only to break her spell but also follow the line of power back and attack. It took a special kind of mind to do so. A devious one. She respected it. 

The stink of his power hung in the air like cobwebs. She sniffed and smiled an oily smile as she climbed out of bed and made her way to the window. She opened it and looked out into the night. 

"Loki," she rolled the name over her tongue as a slow, possessive smirk stretched across her face. "Prince Loki of Asgard," she named him on the wind. "What trouble has found you this night?" 

Turning away from the window, she began packing. Sigyn had an old friend to visit.

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The collar clicked and suddenly Kenna could breathe again. Kenna sagged forward, and Loki was there, catching her against his chest. She rested her forehead against his shoulder as she panted, hardly able to believe he was here. 

"Why are you-?" she started to ask. Then she shook her head as memories flooded. "How did you-?" she stammered, fighting against the overwhelming flood of knowledge and memories her brain was struggling to process and organize. 

"You were dreaming," he said in a low voice. "Of Alfheim." 

Kenna blinked. She remembered. She had been dreaming of her childhood, her sisters and her father. More tears came and she reached up to brush them away in frustration. It had happened a long time ago. 

"I remember," she said. "How-?" In that second her magic returned to her. 

Emotions surged through her so fast it was hard to discern which belonged to her and which were Loki's. Embarrassment, shame, guilt, but at the same time contentment and something else. Affection perhaps? She frowned as she tried to figure out the reason behind each one, why the prince would feel all those things.

Just as suddenly concern flared and her eyes snapped up to his. He was staring down at her from inches away. He was so close. She licked her lips nervously and his eyes dropped to follow the motion. 

Other emotions were raging in her head but she didn't know if they were his anymore. They mirrored her own so much it was difficult to tell. And yet all she could think about was seeing him on the dance floor with the woman he had spent much of the evening with. The Asgardian beauty was exactly the kind of woman a prince should be with. Frigga must have been thrilled. 

But Loki's emotions now didn't match what she had witnessed at the feast. Worry, concern...guilt. Why guilt?

"Kenna," He said again, interrupting her raging thoughts. "Can you focus?" 

Kenna pressed her lips together and nodded, staring hard at his face. She needed to get control of herself. And to do that she needed to understand the emotions she was feeling. She needed to figure out which belonged to her and which belonged to the stoic prince sitting in front of her. 

"Why are you upset?" Kenna's question came so sudden Loki blinked for a moment before he realized she must have been reading him.

He opened his mouth to respond but shame filled him. He didn't want to relive the evening. They needed to talk about the dreams, needed to acknowledge what was happening between them, but he didn't want to think about his mistake with Lady Sitka ever again. He had pursued her to keep his mother and the other's attention off of Kenna. It had worked, he needn't have bedded her. And yet, he had done so, perhaps to convince himself he felt nothing for for the small slave. 

He reached out and gently touched the amulet hanging around Kenna's neck. Suddenly it was visible in his fingers. The polished black and green stones reflecting the dim firelight. "Do you dream of Alfheim often?" he asked her gently. 

Kenna cocked her head. The prince's fingers were gentle and cool and though his emotions were like a wild fire he appeared entirely composed. Only his eyes revealed anything of what she felt coming from him. 

"I don't know," she said honestly. "The collar burns them away."

Shame and guilt burned through Loki. She didn't deserve this. She had saved Asgard. 

"Why were you in my dreams?" She asked and then she snorted and looked away embarrassed by her choice of words. 

Loki's sharp retort caught in his throat as a blush colored her caramel skin. She looked away and a long strand of silver hair fell forward to shield her eyes. She was so lovely it made something in his chest tighten. 

She shivered and he frowned. It didn't feel cold to him. He realized in that moment there was a very good chance she had felt every emotion that had surged through him when she blushed. Dread flooded him and he dropped the talisman. Unable to handle being laid bare before her, he drew his power around him like a shield. He swallowed thickly and glanced back towards the smoldering remains of the fire. He lowered one hand and sent a tongue of green flame into the hearth. 

Loki moved to the hearth and hung the tea pot over the hook. Kenna moved to get up, to help him make tea, but he waved her off. She sat with her back against the wall on her small pallet unsure what to make of the Prince of Asgard making her tea. 

His emotions had locked down suddenly. One moment she had been able to feel everything from him. They were inches apart and staring into each other's eyes. She had felt wonder and affection strong enough she knew it was coming from him and not just her. And then the moment was swallowed up by immense dread and he had shut her out. Slamming the door between them. Now there was nothing. Not only could she no longer feel his emotions, but she couldn't feel him at all even through the talisman. She scowled but said nothing. It was more uncomfortable than she was willing to admit to suddenly feel so alone. 

The prince went through the motions of making them the tea she enjoyed as though he had done it every day of his life. She was impressed he remembered after only watching her make it once. When it was done he carried two steaming cups over to the pallet. He sat down beside her offering her one of the mugs. She wrapped her cool hands around it.

His own hypocrisy was not lost on him. Kenna had spent nearly a week with him, every emotion laid bare on the whim of his curiosity and her borrowed power. Now he was denying her what he had so willing used against her. He was ashamed to admit he wasn't as strong as her. Until he sorted through his own feelings he wasn't willing to share them with someone who might use them to their advantage. Not even Kenna. He had learned long ago emotions were a weakness he couldn't afford.  

Loki settled down to sit beside her his thoughts churning. Being closed off from Kenna was unsettling. He had grown accustomed to her calm, warm presence. Now, in the place she had once occupied was a throbbing wound. His fingers tingled for a moment and a sensual chuckle echoed through the dark corners of his mind. He flinched and moved back to sit with Kenna. As much as he knew he should keep himself separate from Kenna he sat beside her allowing her physical presence to soothe him. His thigh brushed hers and he was so close his arm brushed hers as he lifted his cup to his lips. 

They sat together in companionable silence before Loki finally spoke. "In your dream," Loki started to say. "There was a man..."

Kenna went very still. This was not a truth she was prepared to share with him. He would know if she lied. She could still feel nothing from him. What would happen when he knew? She pressed her lips together and tried desperately to think of how she could phrase it. "Yes," she finally agreed vaguely. There was a man in her dream. Technically there were two men. Loki had been there as well. 

He arched a brow in amusement. "He seemed familiar," he said carefully and took a sip of tea. 

Kenna frowned, it surprised her to realize how quickly she had come to depend on her ability to feel during a conversation. Being cut off from Loki made it difficult to tell where he was going with his leading questions. She couldn't help but worry he somehow had recognized Ljosalfar as King of Alfheim. 

"Most elves spent time in the palace," she said. "I was a child, I laughed and played and knew nothing of caste or society. It didn't matter who was king, a painter or the baker. One is not more important than another in the eyes of a child."

A slow, pleased smile crossed Loki's lips. The clever little elf was being very careful with her words now that he had closed himself to her. Every word she spoke was the truth. "Why do I feel as though you still believe that?" Loki reached out without thought and tucked a single strand of silver hair behind her tipped ear. 

Kenna's breath caught in her throat and she tried hard to block out the memory of watching Loki dance with the lady of Asgard. It had been a sharp reminder of her place in his world. But it was something she needed to accept. Loki was a Prince of Asgard and she was a slave. Someday he would have to find his princess and the Lady Sitka was certainly every inch a potential princess. She simply needed to accept it. 

"That is not the way of Asgard," he said as though he were confiding some great secret. He bumped her shoulder affectionately. 

He was trying to hide from her again. He looked away from her and took another swallow of tea. A tiny piece of him broke through his rigid shielding. Shame and regret. 

"Odin would prefer people believe otherwise." She gave him a gentle smile and reached for his hand, closing hers over his cool skin so he would know she understood he didn't feel the same way. As soon as their skin made contact she could feel even more of him. 

Loki snorted and a tiny spike of frustration slipped through. "Not just Odin," he said in disgust.  

Kenna closed her hand over his tighter, forcing him to look at her. "What's wrong?" she pushed and another piece of the shield cracked. 

Uncertainty.

She held onto his hand and waited for him to decide if he would confide in her or not. 

Loki sighed. When Kenna was this close he couldn't keep her completely at bay. He could feel her magic, pressing against him. He didn't know if she even realized she was doing it. It felt like they were magnets, being pulled back together. The physical contact made the throbbing in his head and chest go away. "I'm sure you heard," he finally said, looking down into his cup of tea. "My father announced Thor's coronation tonight."

Kenna nodded. The announcement had surprised her. Prince Thor was the obvious choice but he seemed so young. Despite Loki being the youngest he behaved as though he were centuries older than his brother. 

Loki set his cup down beside him and scrubbed at his face with his free hand. His other was still tangled with Kenna's and he wasn't willing to let her go just yet. Her warmth was soothing. "It's not that I begrudge my brother the throne. It is his by right and I do believe one day he will make a good king, but..."

"He isn't ready," Kenna finished quietly for him. Her words were treason and she bit her lip to keep herself from continuing. 

Loki nodded and scrubbed at his face. He looked exhausted. "I love Thor, but he is hot headed and impulsive. Had we not been in Alfheim-"

"Everyone would have died," Kenna finished for him thoughtfully. Loki's concerns were valid. She did not want to see an Asgard with Thor on the throne. 

Loki sighed and shook his head. "I wish there was some way for my father to see reason. Some way to delay the coronation, even for a little while."

Kenna glanced sideways at the prince. His face was shadowed on one side while the other was illuminated by flickering green flames. Loki the god of mischief, lies and chaos indeed. She pulled her hand away and turned towards him, rising onto her knees so she was facing him. 

Loki was so surprised he dropped the last of his shielding between them and Kenna's presence settled back in his chest with a soft bump that took his breathe away. 

A smirk tugged up one corner of her mouth and she arched an eyebrow impishly. "Are you telling me the god of mischief can't think of a way to delay a party?" She challenged.

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