Chapter 31
I actually slept well, all things considered. There was a faint, lingering sense of a possible nightmare, but as soon as I woke, I couldn’t remember anything.
I looked over at the clock. Nearly midday.
Blinking a few times, I sat up just as the elder woman entered my room.
“Good morning, Princess. I hope you slept well?” she asked.
I nodded while climbing out of bed and reaching for my overcoat.
“Prince Loki came to visit earlier. I informed him you would be sleeping late. With all the preparations for the Moon Festival, he suggested lunch in his quarters,” she said. “Would you like to send him a reply?”
“Yes, can you please let the prince know I’ll take him up on his offer?”
The elder woman nodded and signaled a younger maid, who quickly left the room.
“At what time do I need to be back so we can start getting ready for the festival?” I asked.
“If my Princess could return two hours after the lunch, that would be most pleasant. We’ll begin preparations shortly beforehand so everything is ready when you arrive,” she said as she helped me dress in a flowing Elven gown.
A small knock came at the door, and I hurried into the reception room. A maid opened it, and there stood Loki, waiting in the hallway.
“Ready for lunch?” he asked cheerfully, extending his arm.
I smiled and took it, walking with him the short distance to his chambers.
“I hope you do not mind that I came to collect you,” Loki said gently as we stepped inside. “It is not that I mean to be overbearing, but I want to ensure Muriel does not ambush you.”
His room was warm and bright, with a beautifully set table and a full Elven lunch already laid out. As I sat down, Loki dismissed the staff, and we were alone.
“Do you really think he’ll try to corner me before we leave?” I asked as I began filling my plate. “I told him to leave me alone… but you know him better than I do when it comes to things like this.”
Loki shook his head. “He can be very stubborn, Aurora. I do not think he will let you go quietly just because you asked. Especially here in Alfheim, where his influence is stronger. While I do not believe he will harm you, I am certain he will attempt to change your mind. He is passionate about those he loves, almost to a fault.”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “That’s just it! He doesn’t love me. Maybe he thinks he does, but it’s not real. What he feels is respect, friendship, and lust. Not love. Nothing like the deep, honest love I saw in his memories.”
Loki grimaced. “As you said, he may believe it is love. Regardless, I know he will try—especially here. He would never dare to back in Asgard, not without risking the wrath of my parents. But today, as luck would have it, you are mine for the rest of the day.”
He smirked. “The sun and moon will remain together for the entire feast. While it is not uncommon to dance a few times with others, I will not allow him near you.”
I grinned, feeling the smugness rolling off him. For once, no one else was allowed to claim his favorite person tonight. Men could be so dramatic.
“Is there anything I should know about tonight?” I asked.
Loki shook his head. “Not that I recall. It is mostly ceremony and dancing. We will open the feast with the first dance in front of the other guests. I selected one I know you enjoy and are comfortable with. After the feast, we will be escorted to our room for the night, and in the morning, we will have breakfast there. The staff will have collected our belongings and sent them back to Asgard. Around midday, we will attend a formal lunch with the king. Then, in the afternoon, we will ride to the official Bifröst site just outside the palace grounds. Heimdall will be watching for us and bring us home.”
I smiled. “It’s funny… I actually miss my life in Asgard. Thanks to you and Frigga, it feels like home. Compared to Alfheim, I miss palace life.”
I took another bite of a delicious Elven dish and hesitated before I spoke again.
“You know, sometimes I’m afraid of what might happen if my memories come back.”
Loki raised an eyebrow in question.
“I’m scared I’ll remember everything—my home, my family, my friends. All of them locked away in a future I’ll never reach because I’ll be long gone by then.” I paused, swallowing down the gloom rising in my chest. “Right now, I don’t remember them. But if I do… I’ll finally know what I’m missing. And that terrifies me.”
I felt Loki’s shock ripple through the bond.
“Aurora… what do you believe your total lifespan to be?” he asked carefully.
The question caught me off guard. I had a guess, sure, but something in his tone made my stomach twist.
“Well… I figured it had improved a little, since I’m half Æsir. I know you guys live for thousands of years, but my body’s still human—just enhanced. So maybe… I don’t know, 110 years? Maybe double the usual 80 if I’m lucky?”
The look on Loki’s face froze me.
“Oh gods,” I whispered. “You’re not about to tell me it’s less than a normal human lifespan, are you?” I squeaked.
He stood, walked around the table, and knelt in front of me, gently taking my hand in his.
“I am so sorry,” he said softly. “I never realized we would need to have this conversation.”
His eyes held a sorrowful kind of guilt, and my heart skipped a beat.
Yes, at this moment your body is more fragile than mine, and you do take damage more easily—but Lady Eir conducted extensive tests on you, Aurora. You heal at an accelerated rate, and your central nervous system is identical to that of a full Æsir. In time, your body will adapt—becoming stronger and more resilient. Your Seiðr will aid in that transformation.
While you may never possess the strength of a full Æsir female, you will become far more resilient than any mortal.”
He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Based on those results—and comparisons to the records of other half-Æsir offspring—Lady Eir determined that your physical body is equivalent to that of a young adult. Comparatively, you would be considered around five hundred years of age. And with proper care, your expected lifespan is a full five thousand years—just as it would be for any other Æsir.”
I blinked.
My mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Loki held onto my hand.
“It is part of why I am so protective of you,” he said quietly. “I do not want to lose you—not to anything except old age. I will dedicate the rest of my life to our friendship and to keeping you safe. I am… quite selfish in some things, Aurora. I will do anything in my power to never lose you. Not just for your sake—but also for mine.”
There was this deep feeling of need and friendship radiating from him.
I sat back in my chair, my mind reeling. I was going to live for thousands of years? My lifespan was equal to Loki’s?
“Aurora, please say something,” he said, clearly uncomfortable with my silence.
I looked at him. There was a flicker of worry behind his eyes.
“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted. “Until now, I didn’t realize the full implications of my transformation. I didn’t understand what being half Æsir really meant.”
“Is it a bad thing?” he asked gently, scanning my face.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I never imagined living that long.” I paused, letting the thought settle. “It helps knowing you’ll be there with me… but it also means I can’t go back to Earth. Even if I somehow got my memories back, I couldn’t live a normal life. Everyone around me would age and die.”
Loki nodded, then stood and pulled a chair closer to sit beside me.
“Yes. That is why it is rare for our kind to spend much time on Earth. There have been cases of Æsir falling in love with mortals, but such love is always short-lived. They grow old and die, while we continue on for centuries—and mourn them.”
I leaned my head against his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around me.
“Just know that I will do everything I can to keep you safe,” he said softly into my hair.
I could feel myself calming, his words grounding me. Before I could respond, my stomach growled—loudly—and both of us broke into laughter. Loki repositioned himself so we could continue our lunch.
I hoped that, as long as I had friends like him—Loki, Thor, Frigga—I could get through the years. Still, it was a scary thought. If I ever lost my place with them, it could mean thousands of years searching for somewhere else to belong.
And the more I thought about it, the more certain I became—I couldn’t picture a future without Loki. Maybe someday I’d fall in love. Maybe he’d marry a princess or some noblewoman. But no matter what happened, I had this gut feeling that we’d find a way to make our friendship work.
After lunch, we talked about how to spend the rest of our time. It had been a while since I studied any magic, and I knew Loki had brought books with him. I suggested an afternoon of reading, which I knew he’d enjoy too.
He conjured two books from his void space and looked around. His room was elegant but very masculine—not nearly as comfortable as mine. No soft chairs or sofas, just formal furniture. Clearly, a prince wasn’t expected to entertain in his chambers.
I just shrugged and grabbed his hand, leading him into the bedroom.
The servants had been dismissed, and we were leaving tomorrow anyway. I was so over this place and the chance of starting any awkward rumors. I walked over to his bed and jumped onto it, patting the spot beside me.
Loki grinned, joined me, and handed me one of the books. With a wave of his hand, he changed into a comfortable tunic, and behind him, a pile of pillows appeared. He leaned back into them, claiming every single one.
I let out a dramatic whine and pouted—there wasn’t a single pillow left for me.
With a mischievous sparkle in his eye, Loki conjured one more pillow. I looked at it skeptically, and with a smug grin, he placed it against his side and lifted his arm—an invitation.
I couldn’t help but smile and curl up against him. He was ridiculously comfortable to lean on.
I nestled into position and began reading. The book was about enhancing illusions with depth—adding layers like touch, texture, or temperature. I already understood the basics of creating illusions, but this went way deeper.
Adding layers meant performing several smaller spells at once. It wasn’t hard to memorize the spells or understand the theory—it was doing them all together that took practice. Larger illusions required a lot of Seiðr, and I still struggled to channel that much. Loki, of course, could summon and maintain multiple full-sized illusions, tangible and lifelike. Meanwhile, I was just getting the hang of small ones.
Loki believed my magical stamina would improve over time. He said Seiðr was like a muscle—the more you trained it, the stronger it got. Most Seiðr users were limited by their overall Seiðr capacity. In my case, the limit wasn’t magic—it was just my body getting used to it.
I finished the book before Loki and, after watching him read for a bit, I started getting bored.
I tried to get up—but I couldn’t. Loki still had his arm around me, holding me snugly in place. He didn’t even react, just kept reading like nothing happened.
I squirmed again. Still nothing. His grip didn’t budge, though I noticed the corners of his lips twitching.
Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing.
A little spark of mischief flared up inside me. If he wasn’t going to let me go… maybe I could make him move.
I pictured one of those tiny, fluffy squirrel-like creatures from the forest—but smaller. Mouse-sized. I added the layering spells from the book: soft fur, warm body, slight weight. I gave it a playful personality and a mission—tickle Loki.
I pretended to shift again while summoning the creature, keeping the motion hidden behind his book. I felt the soft tingle of magic as it formed. Loki glanced down at me, suspicious, but I just snuggled deeper into his side.
He relaxed again.
On the bed, just out of his sight, the little illusion appeared. Absolutely adorable. I focused, giving it a task: sneak in, be stealthy, and tickle Loki as much as possible.
The tiny creature gave me a little salute and scurried off. It reached the hem of Loki’s tunic… and vanished beneath it.
I held my breath.
At first, nothing happened. Loki didn’t react. I worried I’d layered it wrong. But then, he shifted slightly—unaware.
Then the little lump under his tunic moved to his stomach.
The next second, Loki yelped and launched himself off the bed with a squeak.
I collapsed into the pillows, laughing as I scrambled back up to watch him spin in circles, laughing and frantically trying to find the source of the tickles.
Eventually, he gave up and yanked off his tunic—only to find the little squirrel perched on his chest, grinning and still tickling him.
That was it. I broke down in full-on giggles, doing my best not to lose my focus. The little creature danced across Loki’s bare skin while he tried to grab it, eyes shining with laughter.
Finally, Loki managed to scoop the tiny thing into his hands. He held it gently, examining it with wide-eyed wonder. The squirrel leaned into his touch as he stroked its soft fur.
Loki looked at me with joy in his eyes. “I assume the book was helpful?”
Grinning, he sat back down beside me and placed the illusion into my hands.
The little creature was warm and soft, perfectly fluffy.
I was ecstatic. It worked.
Making it so small must have made the Seiðr easier to handle. The spell had held beautifully, and the illusion felt real. But its job was done.
I let go of my focus, and the little squirrel faded from my hands, vanishing into a shimmer of light.
Loki was watching me.
“That was quite a show,” he said, clearly proud. “Especially considering how small you made him—and still managed all the details. It is difficult enough to summon an exact replica, but to scale it down without losing those intricacies… that is impressive.”
I felt the warmth of his pride and couldn’t help but smile. But then I noticed the predatory glint in his eyes.
Uh-oh.
Instinctively, I started crawling backward across the bed, trying to put some space between us. That only seemed to make the look in his eyes sharpen.
“Even though it was very impressive,” he said with a wicked grin, “I do believe I must retaliate.”
He pounced before I could move, pinning me to the bed in one smooth motion.
“I think you forgot… you are very ticklish.”
I let out a squeal as he started tickling me mercilessly, twisting and laughing beneath him as I tried to escape. I nearly wriggled free, but he quickly repositioned himself, pinning my wrists above my head. I fought back, trying to use some of the fighting moves I’d learned—but against him, they were useless. He was so strong.
We ended up breathless and laughing, tangled in a heap. Eventually, he took pity on me and rolled off—but didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled me with him, and I ended up snuggled against his chest.
It was only then that I noticed something obvious.
He was shirtless.
We’d fallen asleep in this position plenty of times, but he’d always worn a shirt. Now, with my hands resting just above his navel, I had a sudden flashback to the dreams and memories I’d seen of him with Yrissa.
Back then, he’d already been stunning.
But now?
His hair was longer, his body leaner, more defined. He was still slim compared to Thor, but the muscles on his chest and arms were so much more developed than I remembered. Broad shoulders, strong arms, firm lines running down his chest and abdomen—every bit of him was sculpted and warm beneath me.
Without thinking, I slowly raised my hand and traced one of the lines down his chest. He remained perfectly still, relaxed as always… while my body was on fire. Just lying next to him like this, touching him, had my heart racing.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. This was dangerous territory. We were friends. We cuddled all the time. I shouldn’t be reacting like this.
And yet, my body didn’t care.
He didn’t seem to mind. But clearly, he wasn’t feeling anything close to what I was.
I shifted, trying to move away—to put a little space between us.
But he held me against him.
“Aurora… please, do not go.”
His voice was quiet—gentle. Vulnerable.
It startled me. That tone was so unlike him, and I didn’t dare look up at him. Instead, I kept my gaze locked on his chest and focused my senses, reaching into his emotions with a quiet, desperate hope that I’d feel something new. Something more.
But all I felt was calm. Steady warmth. No rush of desire. No undercurrent of longing. Just affection, quiet and deep. Maybe he just liked that I’d tickled him. Or maybe he didn’t want to be alone.
I needed to get these fantasies out of my head.
I glanced at the clock—it was nearly four already.
“I need to get back to my room and get ready for the festival,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
This time, he let me go.
I sat up, then hopped off the bed, smoothing my dress and hair. Behind me, I heard the soft rustle of fabric as Loki stood and slipped his tunic back on.
“I will come collect you when you are ready,” he said formally, but added a playful wink that reassured me we were still okay. “Just send one of your maids when you are ready, and I shall escort you to the festival.”
I smiled and nodded before walking back to my own room.
The moment I opened the door, I was greeted by far more maids than usual. The elder woman stepped forward immediately, taking me gently by the arm and leading me straight into the bathroom.
A massive bath waited, filled to the brim with shimmering bubbles and fragrant oils. She motioned for me to undress and slip in, and I didn’t hesitate. As soon as I was settled into the hot water, another maid appeared, mixing more oils into the water as I sank into bliss.
Bubble bath heaven. The scent was divine, and my skin already felt silky and soft.
One of the maids washed my hair, adding several fragrant oils before wrapping it gently. I was reluctant to leave the warmth of the bath, but eventually, they ushered me into the bedroom, wrapped only in a towel.
They helped me dry off and slipped me into delicate golden underwear, followed by a sheer golden negligée. The fabric was thin, soft, and just barely translucent—cut to mid-thigh and offering subtle glimpses of the lace beneath.
I had to fight off a blush when she explained it was my sleeping attire for the night. The idea of wearing something this sheer to bed—next to Loki—made my heart race.
Thankfully, I had magic if I needed a backup plan.
Next came the shoes: elegant golden heels. Once they were in place, the elder woman turned toward two waiting maids, who held the dress between them.
My breath caught.
The dress was stunning. Not over-the-top, but far more elaborate than anything I’d worn in Alfheim so far. The base was a soft cream, shimmering faintly with each movement. Gold leaf-like patterns covered the bodice, forming intricate designs across the fabric. The dress hugged my figure—especially around my bust—accentuating just enough cleavage to draw the eye. A delicate golden belt cinched my waist, and from there, layers of sheer golden fabric cascaded to the floor, trimmed in lace matching the bodice.
It was sensual, elegant, and uniquely Elven—subtly alluring rather than flashy. It was the kind of dress that made a statement without screaming for attention.
I glanced at the elder woman and found her smiling knowingly.
“The sun is revered for her curves and beauty,” she said softly. “Many of the Elven women will wear more form-fitted dresses tonight—celebrating the natural curves of their bodies. It is expected. The sun must seduce the moon with her warmth and radiance.”
She paused, then added in a quieter voice, “This dress is a replica—the same worn by our late Queen when she embodied the sun. The king requested this especially for you. It is quite an honor.”
I blinked.
King Merinor had named Loki and me the moon and sun for the festival. At the time, I’d assumed it was just a symbolic gesture—or maybe a way to irritate Muriel.
But this?
This was more deliberate.
Was he trying to win me over? Soften me up for that ridiculous plan of his involving Shadow?
I hated this kind of political maneuvering. I hated not knowing why someone did something. It made me feel unsteady. And it reminded me of Muriel—how hard it must have been to grow up surrounded by this kind of subtle pressure.
No. I wouldn’t think of him tonight.
This was our last evening here. I just wanted to enjoy it.
I refocused as the maids began working on my hair. The oils they’d used brought out my curls, turning my usual waves into soft, shiny ringlets. For the first time since arriving in Alfheim, my hair wasn’t straightened or twisted into formal knots. It flowed freely, wild and luminous.
“Your hair is the most amazing color,” the elder woman said softly as she inspected the final result. “It is the pure embodiment of the sun.”
She brought out a box and opened it to reveal a beautiful golden mask, shaped like a leaf. Delicate filigree formed the pattern, curling and twisting into elegant veins and edges. She placed it gently on my face—the golden metal catching the light and making my green eyes stand out vividly.
It was a half mask, covering only my eyes and part of my cheeks, leaving my mouth exposed.
She murmured something in Elvish, and I felt a gentle tingle of magic as the mask subtly adjusted itself to the shape of my face.
“The enchantment will hold it in place,” she explained. “It will not fall or slip, and you can remove and reapply it at will.”
She opened a second box, revealing a beautiful golden necklace. It was Y-shaped, delicate and intricate, resembling tiny tree branches adorned with scattered leaves and sparkling flowers. She fastened it gently around my neck, and I noticed the bottom part of the Y dipped low—the little golden branches meeting just below my collarbones, with the tail of the necklace disappearing into my cleavage.
When I looked at myself in the mirror, I felt… beautiful. Mysterious.
Of course, my hair color gave me away instantly—but still, I loved the overall look.
“Apart from the color of your hair, you resemble our late Queen greatly,” the elder woman said with a warm smile. “She was a vision in that dress during her own festival, and I am quite certain you will turn many heads tonight.”
She glanced at the clock and nodded. “Shall we inform the Moon incarnate that you are ready?”
I nodded happily, curiosity bubbling in me. I was very eager to see Loki—and to discover what the moon’s counterpart to this gown looked like.
The elder woman instructed me to wait in the bedroom. A few moments later, I heard footsteps enter the reception room. The door opened, and a maid stepped in to announce Loki’s arrival. She left through another door, and I realized—we were unchaperoned.
I stepped out into the room—and stopped in my tracks.
Loki looked incredible.
He was dressed entirely in silver. His clothes were of Elven design, accentuating every lean, powerful muscle. Tight-fitting black leather pants hugged his legs, and his tunic was intricate, elegant. Over it, he wore a short silver overcoat adorned with the same delicate leaf pattern that decorated my bodice.
His black hair was loose, falling in waves that framed his face more softly than usual. He wore a masculine version of my mask—silver, leaf-shaped, regal. And beneath it, those blue eyes of his found mine instantly.
He looked amazing. He looked dangerous. He looked like a king.
And judging by the stunned stillness in his expression, he felt the same way about me.
I couldn’t help but smile and did a little twirl, letting my golden gown shimmer in the light.
“Do you like it?” I asked, suddenly feeling a little shy under his gaze.
Loki walked forward, took my hand, and pressed a kiss to my knuckles.
“You look breathtaking, Aurora. You look like a queen.”
I smiled. “Well, according to my maid, this dress is a replica of one the late Elven Queen once wore. She said that aside from the hair, I looked just like her.”
Loki’s smile softened. “All I know is that you look radiant. Regal. Though I do wonder why they’ve dressed us in such elaborate garments. The appointment itself was a great honor… but to place us in replicas of royal attire—that is something more.”
His brow furrowed slightly. I could feel his unease, the way his mind was already analyzing the possible implications.
I didn’t want to go there. Not tonight. I didn’t want politics or suspicion spoiling this night.
“If we’re already dressed like royalty…” I grinned, “why don’t we just act the part? At least for tonight, let’s pretend we’re King and Queen of Alfheim.”
A spark lit in Loki’s eyes almost instantly.
“Why, Aurora… you do have the most intriguing ideas,” he said, his grin growing. “It does have quite the ring to it, does it not? Moon King Loki and Sun Queen Aurora.”
He offered me his arm, and I took it gladly as he escorted me through the palace. We arrived at two grand ballroom doors, which swung open to reveal a breathtaking scene.
The ballroom was massive, adorned in decadence and soft, ethereal light. Elegant tables to the side overflowed with food, drinks, and displays of Elven delicacies. But what truly stole the breath from my lungs were the people—dozens of Elves dressed in exquisite silver and gold. Their gowns were flowing, graceful, and far more revealing than the usual formalwear—highlighting the natural beauty of their forms as they danced and mingled across the marble floor.
As Loki and I entered, the crowd parted before us.
We walked through the golden-silver sea of Elves, and at the far end of the ballroom I spotted King Merinor seated on a raised dais. Two empty chairs waited at his side. I couldn’t help but notice that he and Loki wore remarkably similar attire.
As we reached the dais, King Merinor rose and extended his hand toward me.
“May I say, Princess Aurora, that you look absolutely breathtaking,” he said as he bowed low and kissed my hand.
It was surreal. This cold, calculating man now kissing my hand with warmth and reverence? I didn’t know what to say—so I just offered him a deep curtsy in reply.
Loki and I were seated—me in the center, with the king and Loki on either side of me. I couldn’t help but feel the pressure of the moment. Here I was, seated between two silver kings. I straightened my spine and did my best not to slouch. Tonight, I would try to be a queen.
A servant approached and offered us elegant goblets filled with a pale, sparkling liquid. I took a sip and was instantly surprised. It was sweet—but not cloying—with a refreshing floral note and just a hint of alcohol. Delicious didn’t begin to cover it.
I glanced at Loki and saw from the expression on his face that he liked it just as much.
King Merinor raised his goblet slightly. “This is the nectar of one of our rarest blossom trees. A blend of the fruit and the flower. Long ago, this was a ceremonial drink, served at weddings to symbolize love and prosperity. Because the tree is exceptionally rare, only the wealthiest could afford it.”
He looked at me directly. “I have the honor of owning one in my private garden. I thought it a fitting touch for tonight’s celebration.”
“Thank you for this great honor,” Loki said, voice sincere.
“Yes, thank you very much,” I added quickly, sensing the king’s attention shift to me. “The drink is divine—and the clothing… beyond beautiful. I have to admit, I’ve fallen in love with Elven cuisine. The kitchen staff in Asgard won’t be happy when I get back.” I smiled nervously. “Before coming here, they made me a few Elven dishes that I absolutely adored—but now that I’ve tried so many more… I’m afraid I’ll be pestering them constantly to try and replicate everything.”
The king smiled—genuinely—and I could feel the warmth in his emotions.
“It pleases me to know that you enjoy our traditions so much,” he said. “Upon your return, I shall send with you a full collection of Elven recipes—translated into all-tongue for ease. I will also include a generous supply of our spices and native ingredients, delivered via the Bifrost. Should you run out, simply send word. I will ensure your kitchens remain well-stocked.”
He snapped his fingers, and from the corner of my eye, I saw a servant nod and disappear—likely to begin arranging this generous gift.
I felt my cheeks heat. “King Merinor… I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much. This is incredibly kind, and it means a lot to me.”
“You are most welcome.”
I was about to say more when I felt Loki’s hand brush against my arm—subtle, but grounding.
I looked at Loki, and he motioned subtly toward the dance floor. It was only then I noticed that the ballroom had gone quiet—the floor cleared, the crowd now watching the dais with clear anticipation.
King Merinor rose with a smile that was nearly breathtaking. He gave a short, eloquent speech—clearly meant to open the evening’s festivities. When he finished, the crowd cheered politely and turned to face Loki and me.
Oh. I guessed this was the part where we were expected to perform our solo dance.
Loki stood and offered his hand to me with effortless confidence, and I took it without hesitation. He led me down the steps and onto the ballroom floor. The moment we reached the center, music began to play—and I instantly recognized the melody.
It was one of my favorite Elven dances.
Beautiful and intricate, I knew it well. Still, dancing it in front of so many people was a little daunting. But I wasn’t worried. This was Loki.
I trusted him completely.
We took our positions, and he smiled at me. That was all I needed. I focused on him—his eyes, his steady hands, his warmth—and shut out the hundreds of eyes watching us.
We moved together like we’d practiced for years. The dance was full of elegant, intertwined hand movements and graceful turns, with a few lifts scattered throughout. It kept us close, and I could feel the warmth of Loki’s body every time we brushed. He lifted me like I weighed nothing at all, his movements fluid and strong.
Before I knew it, the final step landed and the music slowed. The room erupted in applause. Loki took my hand, guiding me into a bow, and I felt my cheeks burn. I was blushing, and I could only hope the mask hid most of it.
He led me to the side of the room where Thor and Sif stood waiting—both unmistakable even among the sea of gold and silver. They were radiant, statuesque in their formal attire.
Sif took my hands, smiling wide. “You look amazing, Aurora.”
She turned to Loki and gave him a teasing nudge. “And you! You both danced beautifully. Truly a sight to see. I must ask—Loki, why do you not dance more often in Asgard? Is it because you fear every maiden in the realm might swoon and battle for your favor?”
I felt Loki’s surprise at her comment—even if his expression stayed smooth as ever.
“Why, Sif,” he replied with a sly smile, “thank you for your kind words. Perhaps I shall dance more often… but only if Aurora agrees to be my partner for every dance.”
He turned and gently kissed my hand again, and I saw Sif’s eyes widen slightly, flicking between us.
I elbowed Loki lightly in the ribs. “Stop freaking her out,” I laughed.
He laughed too. “What? She started it!”
Sif grinned, realizing she’d walked into his trap, and we all shared a laugh before moving toward the buffet table. There we found the Warriors Three, already enjoying themselves. The atmosphere was bright and cheerful, and I joined the others in filling my plate.
The drinks were flowing freely, especially for Volstagg and Fandral— the latter who was eyeing my dress a little too closely. I saw him open his mouth, clearly about to say something… but Loki smoothly stepped in.
“We should dance more,” he said, turning to me and offering his hand again. “After all, we are the center of this celebration.”
He led me away before Fandral could utter a single syllable. Smooth, as always.
And honestly? I was glad.
We returned to the dance floor, and I couldn’t help but feel how magical the night was. Loki was a phenomenal dancer, and he was clearly enjoying himself. We played a quiet game as we danced—guessing which Elves were behind which masks. It was surprisingly difficult to tell people apart in such similar attire.
I caught sight of Sif and Thor dancing, and it made me giggle. Thor didn’t fumble at all—he moved with practiced grace—but seeing someone so massive trying to dance in a refined Elven style was… honestly adorable. Loki nudged me and pointed it out too, and we both laughed.
Eventually, I needed a break. Loki guided us to the side of the room where we could sit, and gestured to a servant. Within seconds, we were handed fresh goblets of the same golden nectar from earlier.
This batch tasted stronger.
I didn’t mind. I was parched from dancing and downed most of it in one go. The warmth that spread through me was soft, like golden sunlight curling through my veins.
“That last drink was a bit more potent than the first,” I whispered to Loki, who had also finished his.
“I believe you are right,” he chuckled, lifting his hand again. Like magic, two new goblets arrived.
“I think I could get used to this royal treatment,” Loki said, raising his glass. “Are you enjoying your last night in Alfheim?”
“Yes,” I said with a grin. “It’s been amazing so far. I have a very talented dance partner.”
Just then, from the corner of my eye, I noticed someone approaching. I turned and found King Merinor standing before us.
“Princess Aurora,” he said with a graceful bow, “may I have the honor of this dance?”
I gave Loki a wink and downed the rest of my drink. Smiling, I took the king’s outstretched hand.
He led me to the center of the dance floor, and once again, the crowd stepped back to give us space. The music shifted—richer, slower, elegant. I was suddenly aware of how different this would be.
Loki was an excellent dancer… but King Merinor?
He was in a class of his own.
It wasn’t just that he was an Elf. I’d danced with Muriel before. This was something else—his movement was effortless, nearly mesmerizing. His lead was flawless, subtle but firm, and his grace was inhuman.
We glided across the floor, in perfect time with the music and each other.
The buzz from the drink, the warmth of the room, the elegant chaos of the celebration—it all wrapped around me like a dream. As we danced, I felt waves of emotion from the crowd—surprise, delight, admiration.
And then… desire. Lust.
I blinked, startled, as I picked up flashes of arousal from the people watching us. It made me chuckle softly. For a race that was usually so formal and composed, they certainly knew how to let go on festival nights.
When the dance ended, King Merinor bowed slightly and escorted me off the floor, still the perfect gentleman.
“Princess, would you do me the honor of letting me show you something?” he asked, his hand still holding mine.
I looked at him curiously, waiting.
“Seeing as this is your last night in Alfheim—and you have enjoyed so many aspects of our culture and nature—I would like you to see my private garden. It is home to several rare flowers, and I believe it to be a sight you will not find anywhere else in the realms.”
He hesitated for a breath, then added, “My son mentioned you are quite passionate about nature.”
The idea of a hidden garden filled with rare blossoms was more than a little enticing. And I knew King Merinor well enough to realize that if he was boasting about something, it was likely just as extraordinary as he claimed.
“I would be honored to see the garden,” I replied, and the king escorted me toward the edge of the ballroom.
We slipped through a side door and walked in silence along a narrow corridor near the throne room. At the end, he opened a set of double doors—and the moment I stepped through, my breath caught.
He hadn’t exaggerated.
It was the most beautiful garden I had ever seen. Lush, immaculate grass lined the paths, with vibrant flowers blooming everywhere. Above us, thousands of tiny, firefly-like lights hovered in the air, illuminating the space with a soft, magical glow.
A wide smile spread across my face as I wandered further in. Even though we were outside, the air was pleasantly warm—almost as if we were still indoors.
“It is shielded with magic,” King Merinor said behind me, as though reading my thoughts. “The climate in this garden remains constant so I may enjoy my favorite plants year-round.”
He approached a nearby tree bearing luminous golden blossoms. “This is the tree that produces the nectar you’ve grown fond of.”
He plucked one of the flowers, carefully separating the petals. “The blossom itself is quite delicious.” He handed me a few petals and ate the rest himself.
I followed his lead and tasted one. The flavor was like the nectar, but stronger—more concentrated, almost intoxicating in its sweetness.
“This tastes divine,” I admitted, the warm, giddy feeling in my chest blooming again.
He guided me further through the garden, naming plants and describing their uses. The man I walked beside felt very different from the cold and distant king I had known the past few days. This version of him was warmer, softer… personable.
Eventually, we reached the far edge of the garden. A low railing overlooked the valley below, offering a breathtaking view of the star-filled sky.
“I can see why you love this place,” I said softly. “It’s not just the flowers—it’s the view. It’s incredible.”
I turned—and was startled to find him standing very close.
I instinctively took a step back, but misjudged the distance. My heel wobbled and I nearly stumbled. He reached out immediately, steadying me with both hands on my arms.
He didn’t let go.
“It is not the only thing that looks breathtaking tonight,” he said, his voice low.
I opened my mouth to speak, but he stepped even closer, closing the space between us. I took another step back—only to feel the railing press against my back. I had nowhere else to go.
He was close now. His body radiated warmth, his hands still gently holding my arms.
“Do you think I could persuade you to stay longer?” he asked, his voice dipping into something velvety and persuasive. “When the rest of your party departs tomorrow?”
I blinked. His gaze was intense. Too intense.
“My King,” I said gently, “I believe it would be wise for me to return with the others. I miss Asgard—and I know there are people there who miss me as well.”
I tried to look away, tried to break the intensity of his gaze—but he reached up, cupping my chin with a single hand.
“Are you very sure?” he asked, voice soft now, almost intimate. He leaned in until his lips hovered just above mine. “I find myself… quite amazed by you. I would very much like to know you better.”
His mouth was only a breath away.
I felt frozen. Like a deer caught in the sights of a predator. My mind screamed that this wasn’t right, that I needed to say something, do something—but my body refused to move.
Then his lips were on mine.
The kiss was passionate, firm—but I couldn’t react. I didn’t respond. I just stood there, frozen, overwhelmed by the heat of the moment and the emotions radiating from him. Desire. Want. Obsession.
They wrapped around me like vines, and I struggled to pull myself free from the sensation.
And then, like lightning through my mind, the elder woman’s words echoed again.
“You look like our late queen.”
My eyes widened.
I pushed against his chest, trying to break the kiss. He didn’t step away, but I managed to turn my head, and his lips brushed along my neck instead. He continued, trailing soft kisses along my skin.
“Please… don’t,” I whispered, pushing again—firmer this time.
He stilled.
Then slowly, he looked at me.
And in his eyes, I saw it—raw want, tangled with a depth of emotion I hadn’t expected… and didn’t quite understand.
"Is this about my son?" he asked, slightly out of breath. "I know he claimed you, and I know you returned his gifts after falling out with him. I could give you so much more than he ever could."
Before I could respond, there was a sound behind him. He heard it too—he turned, and so did I. Someone approached, but with the mask, I couldn’t tell who it was. The king clearly recognized the figure, because he took a step back. I used the chance to straighten my dress and immediately moved out of his reach.
“Father,” said the man in a low, angry voice—and I instantly knew it was Muriel.
I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. Not even a few days ago, I’d been dating this man. And now, he found me in the arms of his father.
“Father, may I have a word?” Muriel continued, the fury in his tone unmistakable.
King Merinor’s posture stiffened. He turned fully toward his son, his voice cold. “This is not the time. You can clearly see I am entertaining a guest. You may have your word when I am no longer occupied.”
There he was again—King Merinor. Regal, dismissive, distant. The air between them thickened, charged with tension and pride. It snapped something in my head. Like a fog lifting, my mind cleared, and I could finally think again.
"I—don’t worry about me, my king," I managed, my voice shaky. "I must return to the festivities anyway. Please, stay and speak with your son."
I turned and headed for the palace. From the corner of my eye, I saw the king reach for my arm, but Muriel stepped forward and placed a firm hand on his father’s shoulder, stopping him. I didn’t wait to see more. I walked faster—almost running—until I was mostly out of sight.
What the hell had just happened?
I reached the doors and slipped back inside. The corridor was dim, unfamiliar. Disoriented, I tried to recall how to get back to the ballroom, but nothing looked right. The warding on the gardens must have messed with my senses—I usually had an excellent memory for direction.
Suddenly, arms wrapped around me from behind, and I shrieked in alarm, heart leaping to my throat. I thought it was the king—or worse, Muriel.
But as I was spun around, my panic faded. The familiar green eyes behind the silver mask stopped my breath.
“Loki,” I breathed in relief, collapsing into his arms.
“Aurora, what happened?” His arms tightened protectively around me. “You disappeared without a word. I found a servant who said the king had taken you to his private garden. I tried to reach you through our bond, but it was like shouting through fog. The entire area is warded, only accessible by the royal family. I had to find Muriel and convince him to enter and check on you.”
He gently pulled back, scanning my face for any sign of harm.
“I’m okay,” I whispered, my voice unsteady.
He guided me down the hall into an empty chamber and sat me down, his hand stroking mine in quiet reassurance, waiting for me to speak.
“Why the hell do I keep ending up in these situations?” I sighed. Loki frowned, his mask now resting on the table beside him. I removed mine too and set it next to his.
“The king invited me to see his garden,” I started, rubbing my hands over my face. “It was stunning. He talked about the plants, the flowers. When we got to the edge of the garden, he suddenly got close and asked me to stay in Alfheim after the rest of you left.”
I paused, feeling my chest tighten. “I told him no. I said I missed home and there were people in Asgard who missed me too. He asked again—asked if he could persuade me to stay. And then he kissed me. I froze. I just… stood there, letting it happen. Eventually, I pushed him back, and he stopped. That’s when Muriel showed up and saw everything.”
I let out a harsh breath, covering my face with my hands. “Apparently I look so much like the late queen that King Merinor couldn’t help himself. And now I look like the biggest slut in all the realms—kissing Muriel’s father not days after breaking things off with him.”
Loki was quiet for a beat, absorbing everything.
“What do you mean, you could not move?” he asked, voice calm but intense. I could feel him trying to keep his emotions in check.
I shrugged, overwhelmed. “I don’t know. I felt paralyzed—like a deer in headlights. I couldn’t think, couldn’t act. It wasn’t until I felt the depth of his emotions that something clicked. I remembered what the elder woman said—how much I looked like the queen. And suddenly it all made sense.”
Loki narrowed his eyes. “Did he use any magic? Or give you anything?”
I flinched at the question, feeling like I was being interrogated. “No… I mean—he didn’t use magic. But he did give me petals from that golden tree—the one that produces the nectar we’ve been drinking tonight. He said the blossoms were sweet and had me try them. We both did.”
At that, Loki’s anger eased. He dropped his head into his hands, exhaling sharply, trying to collect himself.
“That explains everything,” he said finally, his voice calmer again. “I remember reading about that flower in a book back in Asgard. It is not just rare—it is potent. An aphrodisiac. The nectar heightens whatever emotions are already present. The drinks tonight were diluted—it gave us a pleasant buzz, nothing more. But the petals themselves? Eaten raw? That would’ve amplified everything.”
I felt a jolt of irritation. “But I don’t have feelings like that toward Merinor,” I snapped.
“No—and that is exactly why you froze,” Loki explained. “You had no affection or desire for him. But Merinor, thinking of his wife, seeing her in you… With the flower’s influence, it overwhelmed him. That kind of magic feeds off emotion—especially longing.”
He met my eyes again, his expression softer now. “What are you feeling right now?”
“Irritated. Mad.” I said it before I could think—and instantly winced. I was taking it out on him when he was only trying to help. “I’m sorry,” I added quickly, voice cracking as my eyes stung.
Loki gave me a gentle smile. “It is alright, Aurora. The flower’s still affecting you. Your emotions are heightened. None of this is your fault.”
He stood and offered me his hand. “Come on. We should get back to the festival.”
“I don’t want to,” I said quietly. “Please don’t make me. If that’s how tonight is going to go, I’d rather just crawl into bed and be done with it.”
“I wish I could say yes,” he said apologetically. “But we are the heart of this festival. We cannot leave early. Not tonight.”
His fingers squeezed mine gently. “You have my word—I will not leave your side. I will be there, every moment. The flower’s effects will still linger through the night, but it only responds to strong emotions. If we stay close, if we fill the evening with joy, it will not hurt you. I promise you that.”
I nodded slowly, feeling a little steadier. He was right.
And if anyone could protect me through a storm of heightened feelings and dancing nobles—it was him.
I knew he was right, and I did my best to get my nerves under control. I just hoped the rest of the night would go smoothly—and that no one would manage to piss me off. I took his hand, and we both replaced our masks before making our way back to the ballroom.
The mood was thick—charged. The emotions I’d felt earlier had only grown more intense. The room buzzed with passion and hidden longing, and I knew Loki could feel the tension building in me. He didn’t comment—just led me to the side of the room, to the same seats we’d occupied earlier that evening.
"Are you alright?" his voice whispered through our bond.
"I’m fine. It’s just... the uptight elves seem to be letting loose tonight. Let’s just say the mood feels a little more Asgard after too much wine." I glanced around. "And with the flower still in my system… yeah, it’s interesting."
Loki scanned the room as if trying to see what I meant. I knew it still looked tame compared to the parties back home. The elves were just dancing a little closer, holding hands more openly, smiling with flushed cheeks. It was still elegant, still refined—but for Alfheim standards? Wild.
"Are you sure?" he asked, and I could feel the amusement behind his words.
He didn’t believe me, so I decided to prove it.
I focused on the room’s atmosphere and sent the sensation through our bond, letting him feel the undertone of desire, the subtle electric buzz of heightened emotions all around us.
His pupils dilated. He shifted in his seat, trying to suppress a reaction, and I laughed—loud and unfiltered.
“First of all, warn me when you do that!” he hissed with a grin. “Second of all—damn. Who knew the elves had it in them?”
“Just make sure I don’t get cornered by anyone again,” I said, still grinning. “And maybe make sure I don’t corner anyone myself, in my current state.”
Loki smirked. “I promise to protect you, Aurora. And if you feel the overwhelming urge to throw yourself at someone, I shall nobly offer myself as a distraction.”
I rolled my eyes, laughing. “You ass.”
But inside, I was grateful. He’d pulled me back from the spiral of everything that had happened. Again.
From the corner of my eye, I caught Muriel stepping into the ballroom. I didn’t need to say anything—I felt Loki notice him at the same time.
“I think now is the perfect time to ask you to dance,” he said smoothly, standing and offering his hand.
I took it without hesitation.
He led me through the crowd, shielding me from wandering gazes and unspoken questions. Before long, I was lost in the rhythm again. The music, the movement, Loki. We danced, took a few breaks to chat with Sif and Thor—both beautifully dressed and enjoying themselves—and we made sure no one had the chance to interrupt us.
At some point, I noticed King Merinor had rejoined the festivities. From the look of his posture, he was tense—agitated. Loki must have noticed too, because we carefully steered ourselves to the opposite side of the ballroom, keeping our distance.
It was very late when Loki finally leaned in close and whispered, “We’re allowed to leave.”
We laughed together, and the tension I’d carried for hours finally eased. Our loyal servants, still treating us like royalty, led us down the ornate hallways back to our quarters. The corridors were quiet now, lit only by soft golden sconces. The air was warm, the moment calm.
We had made it through the night.
We were shown to a set of double doors at the end of a long hallway. The doors were beautifully ornate, and as we stepped inside, I was taken aback. The room was spectacular—clearly designed specifically for this occasion. Every wood carving along the walls depicted images of the sun and moon, woven together in elegant harmony.
In the center of the room stood a massive bed, draped in gauzy, see-through curtains that gave it the romantic feel of something from a royal harem. Off to the side was a luxurious bathing area, and soft golden candlelight filled the space with warmth.
“They really do go all out for these things,” I murmured more to myself than Loki, though I heard his quiet agreement behind me.
Loki excused himself to the bathroom, giving me a bit of privacy. I wandered to the far side of the room where a table had been set up, laden with food and drinks. I realized just how hungry I was and nibbled on the delicious offerings while I waited.
When I heard him reenter the room, I turned—and my eyes widened.
He was only wearing a pair of loose, soft-fitted pants that rode his hips dangerously low. That was it.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself not to stare, but he caught the look. The twinkle in his eyes told me he had noticed my reaction.
“It’s all they gave me,” he said with a teasing lilt, “but I can change it magically if you’d prefer.”
To be honest, he looked very good. The combination of the drinks and the flower from earlier made me bolder than usual. We most certainly weren’t going to consummate anything tonight, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate the view.
I laughed. “If you feel uncomfortable, you should definitely change. Just know—if you keep those on, I will be forced to retaliate and show you what they gave me to wear tonight.”
He chuckled. “How about we just enjoy the experience as it was intended? I won’t comment on your sleepwear if you won’t comment on mine.”
“Deal,” I said with a grin. “Now, it’s my turn to claim the bathroom.”
Once I was out of sight, I took off my dress, mask, and jewelry. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, pulling my hair forward so it flowed around my shoulders in loose waves. My stomach fluttered with nerves. How would Loki react when he saw me in this short, sheer nightgown?
Before I could change my mind, I walked back into the room.
It was much darker now, lit only by a few softly glowing candles. Loki stood by the table with a drink in hand, and I padded barefoot across the floor toward him. His head turned the moment he sensed me, and though I couldn’t see his full expression, I heard the hitch in his breath.
I tried to ignore it as I made my way to the bed.
“Are you ready to go to sleep?” I asked softly, glancing over at him.
He nodded.
I climbed into the large bed and settled near the center. Loki moved around the room, quietly extinguishing the last of the candles. Once the room was completely dark, he summoned a small orb of pale light to guide his way. He slipped into the bed beside me, turned toward me, and stretched out his arms.
Without hesitation, I curled against him, letting him pull me into his bare chest. His body was warm and solid, and the moment I was wrapped in his arms, I felt that familiar calm settle over me.
He dimmed the orb, and silence settled between us.
I lay still, wondering if he’d already fallen asleep. My mind drifted, thoughts flickering between the dancing, the music, the garden—and then it hit me.
Tonight was a dream night.
And this time… Loki would be right here in bed with me.
My face flushed in the dark. I took a steadying breath, reminding myself that at least the first dream wouldn’t matter—we’d both be asleep. He’d promised that if he woke before mine ended, he’d give me space. I trusted him. Still, I shifted a little, trying to get more comfortable, suddenly far too aware of how close we were.
Then, his voice came softly in the dark.
“Are you uncomfortable with me?”
He shifted slightly so he could see me better. My eyes had adjusted, and I could just barely make out his features in the dim glow.
“No, I’m not uncomfortable with you,” I whispered, offering a faint smile. “I just remembered the dream… and with the flower’s effects lingering, I’m a bit anxious. But I’m not uncomfortable because of you.”
His lips brushed against my hair as he spoke. “This will most definitely be the last one, Aurora. It’ll be over soon.”
I nodded, and his arms tightened around me just slightly.
And as my eyes fluttered shut, I let myself fall into sleep, wrapped in the comfort of him—hoping that no matter what dream came, I would wake to find him still there.