Chapter 45
The next two weeks were painfully dull.
Loki had been able to contact me through the bond during the first week, but once the scouts began their infiltration and reconnaissance, everything went quiet—just like we knew it would. Still, knowing it and living it were two very different things.
Court felt strangely empty without all of them. Of course I missed Loki most of all—sleeping alone in his bed every night never stopped feeling weird—but I also missed Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three. The halls were quieter. Meals were quieter. Even walking through the palace felt... off. The only people left behind were nobles and council members, and their company left a lot to be desired.
Frigga had been wonderful, of course. We spent quite a bit of time together, especially in her gardens, and I truly loved being with her—but she was still Queen, and that meant long hours spent handling matters of state while I tried not to mope.
Today marked exactly two weeks since Loki’s last contact. And if I was honest with myself, I was getting a little cranky.
Frigga was busy again, and after spending nearly the entire day inside, I threw on a heavy cloak over my leather and decided to walk the palace gardens. The wind had turned sharp, biting at my cheeks, and the air smelled like snow. But the chill helped clear my head.
I walked quietly, listening to the rustle of branches and the soft crunch of gravel under my boots. It was peaceful. Still.
Until I looked up and saw an elf standing by the tree where Muriel and I had shared our first kiss.
My breath caught in my throat. For a second—just one second—I could have sworn it was him. But when the elf turned, I recognized him immediately.
Lord Evindal.
I forced my expression into something neutral, knowing my shock must have been all over my face. He watched me closely as he approached, his tone all smooth concern.
“Princess Aurora. You look startled. Have I done something to cause alarm?”
I took a calming breath and offered a polite smile. “Thank you for your concern, Lord Evindal. I simply had a sudden memory come to mind when I saw you standing near that tree. I did not mean to cause any worry.”
I was already turning to leave when I felt the shift in his emotions. Interest, not concern. Curiosity—not empathy.
He glanced back at the tree, then to me again, and I saw the flicker of recognition cross his features.
“I see. So this was a special place for you and Prince Muriel, then?” he asked softly, though I could feel it had nothing to do with compassion.
I kept my voice calm. Neutral.
“Yes. Muriel and I often walked these gardens together. He loved the nature here, said it reminded him of Alfheim. I enjoy being outside as well. Seeing another elf in the garden just brought him to mind.”
He nodded slowly, eyes studying me. “I understand. But now, with you courting Prince Loki, I assume he is the one who escorts you on these walks?”
I didn’t like him. Not even a little. But I was a princess, and he was still a noble and the new Elven ambassador, so I had to at least pretend.
“Prince Loki and I prefer the royal gardens,” I said, slipping easily into my snobbier tone. “They provide more privacy when entertaining our family. But today I chose to wander here alone. It has been some time.”
I gave him a nod and turned again, hoping that would be the end of it.
It wasn’t.
He matched my pace after only a few moments. “Princess Aurora, forgive my forwardness—but has there been any word from Prince Loki or Prince Thor? I have been in correspondence with King Merinor, and he would be most relieved to hear an update on their safety.”
His voice was pleasant. His emotions were not.
Sly. Calculating. Too smooth by half.
I gave him a perfectly neutral smile. “I am afraid I cannot help you, Lord Evindal. I have not been privy to any updates regarding the princes. I fear I do not have the Allfather’s ear while Prince Loki is away—and even when he is here, he tends to speak to me directly, rather than through his father.”
I tilted my head just slightly. “I know they are safe, but that is all.”
His face remained polite, nearly angelic—but the flash of contempt that rolled off him was unmistakable.
“That must be quite a burden, my Princess,” he said, his voice honey-sweet. “To love someone and yet receive no word. I would have thought Queen Frigga—who claims you as a daughter—would at least ease your mind with updates. One would expect she might keep you informed about her sons’ whereabouts. To comfort you.”
I held his gaze, my smile still in place, though I could feel the heat rising in my chest.
He had no idea who he was talking to.
He kept trying and prying, and to what end, I didn’t know—but I didn’t like it. I did my best not to let my feelings show, smiling politely at his words.
“Yes, the Queen has been really kind. She’s the one who lets me know the princes are safe and not in any immediate danger. But as for where they are or what they’re doing, I wouldn’t know. I don’t even know if Odin tells her. I imagine that if she knew, she’d share it with me—we’re quite close, you see.”
My smile was starting to hurt, but I could feel his interest start to fade. I’d played the part well: vague, uninformed, and completely useless to whatever it was he was hoping to gain. Still, his face held a sincere-looking smile.
“I see. Well, at least I shall be able to inform King Merinor that the princes are in good health. That was his main concern, after all.” He gave a small bow and turned to head back toward the castle.
I watched him go for a moment, then continued my walk until the sun began to set. By the time I returned to the palace, dinner had long passed—not that I had much of an appetite anyway. The conversation with Lord Evindal had killed what little mood I had left.
I stepped into Loki’s chambers and dropped onto the green sofa. Funny how I hadn’t even visited my old room since he left. This room was mine now too, just as much as it was his.
The balcony window was dark now. I stood and walked over to the small piano tucked into the corner. I’d found it about a week ago while wandering the palace library, desperate for something to take my mind off things. They had an entire room dedicated to music—filled with instruments and shelves of old sheet music for anyone who wanted to learn. And when I saw the miniature piano, I just knew. The larger ones were stunning, sure, but this one felt right. It was quiet, unassuming… and it fit his room—our room—perfectly.
The strangest part was that I hadn’t even known I could play. It had just... happened. My fingers had moved like they remembered something I didn’t. When I told Lady Eir about it, she said it wasn’t uncommon in people with memory loss. That sometimes, even if the mind couldn’t recall something, the body could. Muscle memory, she’d called it. A piece of who I used to be still living in my hands. It was both comforting and strange.
I’d been rusty at first—frustrated with how clumsy my fingers felt. But with nothing to do these past few weeks but wait and worry and try not to spiral, I’d practiced and practiced. The Asgardian library had more sheet music than I could have ever dreamed of, and the combination of beautiful compositions and my need for an outlet had made it the perfect escape. Every note helped me push back the stress. The silence. The waiting. And now... I could actually play. Really play.
I lit a candle and placed some sheet music on the stand. My fingers found the keys almost on their own. The piece I chose tonight was slow, haunting—something I’d learned had been written after the composer’s wife passed. It was beautiful. And it hurt.
The melody swelled with grief, dipped with memory, then fell back into that quiet ache that always sat at the heart of loss. I played a few more pieces like it, craving that melancholy sound that mirrored the way my chest felt when I thought of Loki. I lost myself in the music, in the slow rise and fall of each note. But eventually, the emotions caught up. I stopped when my eyes began to sting.
I missed him. So much. And not just Loki—Thor, Sif, the warriors three… even the buzz of life in the court felt hollow without them.
Every now and then, I would feel him. Not clearly, not like when we were close, but just enough. Like right now—there had been a flicker of amusement, then warmth, and now... longing. He was thinking of me. Just like I was thinking of him.
“That was amazingly beautiful,” a voice said behind me—soft, sudden, and unmistakable.
I shot to my feet and spun around. My eyes hadn’t adjusted yet, but I saw him—tall and lean, stepping out from the shadows like a dream made real.
“Loki,” I breathed, and ran straight into his arms.
He caught me easily, pulling me in and holding me so tight it knocked the air from my lungs. I could feel everything through the bond—his love, his relief, his happiness. It wrapped around me like warmth after weeks in the cold. My eyes burned again, but I didn’t care.
He was here.
I looked up and cupped his face, still not sure I believed it, then kissed him like I could anchor us both with the press of my lips. He chuckled into the kiss, then pulled back just slightly.
“Are you not going to say anything?” he murmured.
“I don’t know if I dare,” I whispered back. “What if I’m asleep and I wake up to find you’re not really here?”
He smiled and brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “You are awake. And I am here.”
He led me to the sofa, pulling me into his lap. With a wave of his hand, a few more candles lit around the room, casting him in soft golden light.
“I am sorry I did not contact you sooner,” he said. “I only just returned to Thor’s camp. I gave my report, excused myself, and came straight here.”
I touched his face again, finally seeing the shadows under his eyes, the quiet tension in his shoulders.
“You’re exhausted,” I said softly, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Let me help.”
As I held him, I let my Seiðr flow into him through our bond. I felt it take hold, easing his weariness. When he pulled back, he looked lighter, steadier.
“It takes quite a lot of Seiðr to teleport from our camp to the portal,” he said. “I am glad you were here. I do not think I would have had the energy to search for you throughout the castle.”
I smacked his arm lightly and sent the words through our bond: You wouldn’t have needed to find me, stupid. You could’ve just called me with the bond—like you’re always telling me not to do.
His surprise pulsed through the link, followed by a warm laugh. “To be honest, Aurora, I forgot. I spent so long trying not to contact you these last two weeks that it slipped my mind how easy it would be now.”
I leaned in and hugged him again. “I’m just glad you’re here now.”
He kissed my cheek and glanced toward the clock. “It is quite late.”
“I was playing for a while,” I admitted, glancing back at the piano.
“I meant what I said. It was beautiful,” he said, then added, “But sad.”
I nodded. “I was feeling a bit melancholy. The music helps me channel it. I started learning so I’d have something to do, but... I really enjoy it. Especially when it matches my mood.”
He looked over at the piano again. “It suits you. The instrument. The sound. It looks like it belongs here, with you playing it.”
I smiled, warmed by the simple compliment. “I’m glad you don’t mind.”
“I told you, this is your room too. If you want something, you should have it.”
He glanced at the clock again and frowned, and I could tell—he hated the idea of leaving again.
But for now, he was home.
And I wasn’t going to waste a single second.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He sighed. “I must speak with my father. There is news he must hear—but I do not wish to teleport directly into his chambers. I am too tired. Would you be able to cast an invisibility illusion on me and walk with me there instead? I would rather no one see me. If you wake them, others will simply assume you sought my mother’s comfort or counsel.”
“Come,” I said, climbing off his lap and tugging him to his feet. I placed my hands on his shoulders, and with a soft pulse of magic, I felt the tingle of the illusion settle into place. I could still see him, but no one else would.
Together, we stepped into the corridor and walked in silence until we reached the doors of Odin and Frigga’s wing. I entered first, into the darkened reception room, and quietly called for one of Frigga’s handmaidens. It didn’t take long before one appeared.
“My Princess, may I be of service?” she asked, clearly surprised to see me so late.
“Yes. Would you wake the Queen for me?” I asked, softening my voice and letting my lip tremble just a little. “I had a bad dream. I need her comfort.”
She nodded immediately and rushed off. Moments later, a second door opened, and she motioned me through to the adjoining sitting room.
“The Queen is on her way,” she said gently, her tone full of sympathy. “Shall I fetch you anything while you wait?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you. I’ll just wait here.”
The moment she left the room, another door opened—and Frigga stepped through, Odin right behind her, both of them looking concerned.
“Aurora, are you alright?” Frigga asked, crossing the room quickly.
I smiled at her, hoping it looked reassuring, and then turned to wave my hand. The illusion around Loki dissolved.
Frigga gasped softly—and her face lit up like sunlight breaking through clouds. She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around her son.
I turned to Odin, giving him a small, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry if I startled you or caused any concern.”
Odin gave me a rare smile in return and raised a hand. I felt another wave of magic settle through the room.
“The chambers were already warded,” he explained, “but for the time being, I have sealed them entirely—even from the servants.”
I nodded, and Loki stepped forward to address his father.
“It is good to see you, Father, and I apologize for the unexpected visit,” he said. “But I thought it wise to remain concealed. The imposter is still at large, and I would rather not risk being seen—by anyone. If a magic user were watching, they might choose to strike while I am away from my double at camp.”
Odin gave a small nod in agreement. “Then speak, my son. What have you learned?”
Loki followed him to a chair near the fireplace, and Frigga and I joined them, pulling up seats of our own. Frigga waved a hand, summoning a decanter of wine and several goblets onto the small table between us. Before she could lift a finger, I poured everyone a glass, earning a soft smile from her.
Loki took a sip, then turned back to his father.
“I have gathered a great deal of information. I debriefed Thor before returning here, but I thought it best to update you directly.” He leaned back slightly, voice calm but steady. “The situation is strange. Nearly every town along the Niflheim border has fallen. Their forces are mixed—Æsir, elves, dwarves... even frost giants.”
Frigga gasped, and Odin growled low under his breath.
Loki lifted a hand to calm them both. “Father, from what I have seen, this is not a formal war. These are not organized armies. They are a patchwork of rebels and mercenaries. A large group, yes—but poorly supplied, and lacking structure. It appears that individuals from all over the Nine Realms have banded together under one cause to strike at our outer defenses.”
He paused and glanced at me. “But they are not alone. They have Svartalfheim spiders and wolves fighting with them. Not just attacking—but also guarding the cities they’ve taken.”
Frigga’s eyes widened, and Odin’s posture stiffened further.
“Like the spiders in the Alfheim forest?” I asked quietly.
Loki nodded. “Exactly like those. I could not get deep enough into their ranks to find the source, but their presence means only one thing—powerful Seiðr is involved. Those creatures do not obey without magical control. And whoever commands them has remained completely hidden. I have not seen them, nor heard them spoken of directly—only vague references to a ‘leader.’ There have been many traps laid for scouts and spies. We have already lost good men. It feels... deliberate. Like they expected me. Like they knew I would be there.”
A chill ran down my spine. I could feel the unease ripple through the room.
Odin leaned forward, hands clasped tightly together. “Then it is wise you remained hidden. Still... it troubles me. Why would they anticipate you, when it is well known that I have kept you away from the border?”
Loki remained quiet and shrugged, though I felt the sting of it through the bond—the buried bitterness. But he showed no sign of it on his face.
“You are certain this is not a coordinated attack from the other realms?” Odin asked.
“Yes,” Loki replied. “From what I gathered, they are not sanctioned soldiers. Many of them spoke poorly of their own rulers and claimed that Asgard was just the beginning. They intend to overthrow their homelands next.”
Loki paused to take another sip of wine before continuing. “What I do not understand is who—or what—has the power to unite such a variety of people, and also summon and control the spiders and wolves.”
It was Frigga who leaned forward next. “Do you believe the imposter is behind it? We know he possesses several powerful artifacts that can store vast amounts of Seiðr.”
I felt Loki’s irritation spike at the mention of the imposter. “I cannot see how he would not be involved. If not the one orchestrating it, he is surely playing a part. But I have found no trace of him. I do not know if he is here in their camp... or hiding among one of the taken cities. What concerns me most is the possibility that he is teleporting between them. If he has access to those enchanted objects, there is no telling how much Seiðr he has stored.”
We all fell silent, the weight of what Loki said hanging heavy between us.
“Father,” Loki added after a moment, “Thor wishes to know if you approve a full assault on the occupied cities. There will be civilian casualties, of course, but from what I have seen, they must be liberated. You do not want to witness what those creatures are doing to the inhabitants. Some might argue death would be a mercy compared to the pillaging, murdering, and raping that is taking place.
“While their numbers are large, we still outnumber them. I believe if we strike hard enough to shatter their momentum, it will break their morale, and many will flee back to whatever holes they crawled out of. They are not a match for a coordinated Asgardian force.”
I swallowed hard at Loki’s words, horrified at the reality of what was happening in those towns.
“Do you and Thor agree fully on this strategy?” Odin asked.
“Yes,” Loki replied without hesitation. “We both believe it is the best course.”
Odin rose to his feet and motioned Loki over to the opposite side of the room. With a wave of his hand, the table cleared, and a 3D projection flared to life—an illuminated map of the invaded territory. Loki added magical projections of the enemy and Asgardian forces, and the two of them began reviewing their options.
Frigga and I remained seated. As I watched the strategy unfold in front of us, my stomach growled loudly. I winced and glanced at her apologetically.
“I skipped dinner,” I admitted quietly. “Lord Evindal found me in the gardens, and it kind of... ruined my appetite.”
She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh?”
I told her what had happened—how he had pried for information about Thor and Loki under the guise of a polite conversation. I felt her curiosity shift into concern.
“That is odd,” she said. “King Merinor and I have been corresponding directly. He offered us his support, but we agreed to keep the matter strictly between ourselves—no ambassadors involved. We wanted to avoid drawing attention or stirring unrest among his people.”
She turned toward Odin and Loki. “My dears, I believe this may be something you both ought to hear.”
They returned to us, and I repeated what had happened in the gardens while Frigga added her account of the private communication with King Merinor.
I could feel Loki’s dislike simmering beneath the surface.
“He may simply wish to prove his usefulness to his king,” Loki said, “but I do not like it.”
Odin nodded. “Aurora, I agree with my son. We cannot afford to ignore this. I must ask you not to walk the palace gardens alone for the time being. You are still protected, but the guards are not stationed as closely outside the walls. If Lord Evindal approaches you again, inform myself or Frigga immediately. You were wise to feign ignorance when he questioned you. It may help us in the future if we must draw him into a trap.”
Frigga nodded. “Do not seek him out. But if he does speak to you again, remain near guards if possible.”
I could feel Loki watching me, his emotions shifting. There was something else on his mind.
“What is it?” I asked softly, turning toward him.
He hesitated. “While I would prefer you avoid him altogether, there is something I would ask you to do—if he approaches you again with the same kind of questions.”
I met his eyes and waited.
“I showed you how to read magical imprints,” he said slowly. “If he speaks to you again, look at his Seiðr. If it is any color other than red, then it is safe. But if it is red—or anything close to the trace we found before—it may be the imposter in another form. If that is the case, do not panic. Do not let him suspect you are aware. Simply excuse yourself and go directly to my parents. They both have the means to detain a powerful Seiðr user without endangering themselves.”
I reached for his hand. “Loki... I promise. I won’t put myself in danger. If I see him again and his Seiðr matches the one we found or if it’s another shade of red, I’ll go straight to Odin or Frigga. You have my word.”
His tension eased slightly, and he gave my hand a grateful squeeze.
“Mother. Father,” he said, “that is all I have for now. Is there anything else we must discuss? If not, I would like to rest. I must meet with Thor early tomorrow.”
Odin shook his head. “No, my son. That is everything. Will you remain here tonight, or return to the camp?”
Loki looked at me and smiled. “I shall rest here. I sleep better with Aurora beside me. In the morning, I will return. My double remains at camp to alert me if anything happens. If that occurs, I shall be at Aurora’s side and will be able to draw Seiðr and return immediately.”
Odin gave a nod, but I caught the fond smile on Frigga’s face. “My children, your bond warms my heart. Now go—off to bed, both of you.”
We stood and made our way to the doors. Before we left, I cloaked Loki again, and Odin dropped the magical seal on the room.
Back in our chambers, I led him to the bedroom. I could feel how exhausted he was. We changed into our nightclothes, and when I lay against his chest, I felt whole again—for the first time in two weeks.
He turned slightly so he could look at me. And for the first time since he left, I finally felt at peace.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he sighed into my hair, pulling me tighter into his arms.
“I’ve missed you too, my love. But you need your sleep and strength—so please, go to sleep.” I pressed a small kiss to his neck.
He let out a low growl that rumbled against my cheek. “And what if I do not wish to sleep?” he murmured, voice husky and warm. The sound of it gave me an actual shiver.
I smiled into his skin. “As much as I love that idea, I love it more when I don’t have to worry about you while you’re gone. So sleep, Loki. Get some rest,” I said in my best mock-stern voice.
He exhaled through his nose and kissed the top of my head. “You know I despise it when you channel your inner Frigga.”
But I could feel the smile behind the words, and soon after, his breathing evened out. He was out like a light. I tried to stay awake a little longer, to soak in the feeling of being held again, to savor the weight of his arms around me. But, as always, the comfort of lying beside him lulled me into sleep.
It was Loki’s voice—soft and close—that woke me.
“Aurora, you need to wake.”
I blinked and opened my eyes to see his face so close to mine. A wide grin stretched across my face. It hadn’t been a dream. He was really here.
I rolled over and climbed on top of him, stretching myself fully over his body and curling my arms around his neck. “Good morning, my mattress. Did I already tell you how much I missed you?” I grinned into his ear.
He laughed, loud and bright, making me bounce slightly on his chest. “You wound me. Are you truly suggesting the only reason you missed me was for my comfort as a mattress?”
I laughed with him. “Well... it is one of your top-tier perks.”
He wrapped his arms around me and slowly rolled us over until he was on top. He gazed down at me and kissed me softly.
“Aurora, I must get going. A scout has entered my tent to inform me that Thor expects me shortly to finalize the battle strategy.”
I could feel his emotions shift. Concern for me bled into the bond, and I knew what he was afraid of—that I’d cry, or beg him to stay, or crumble. But I had spent two weeks talking with Frigga, listening to her stories about Odin’s early campaigns, about how she had coped with fear and duty and love. She had helped me see what I hadn’t wanted to before.
Loki was a grown man. Over 800 years of training, learning, surviving. A strategist, a warrior, a master of Seiðr. And while I was still scared, still hated that he had to go, I had to support him. I didn’t want him distracted or worried about me. That could get him killed.
So I took a breath, smiled, and gently pushed him off me so I could sit up. “Okay. I understand. What do you need me to do?”
He blinked and sat back on his knees, surprised.
“I’ve learned a lot from your mother these past weeks,” I said. “Yeah, I still have my moments—like last night, when I just really missed you. But I get it now. This is part of who you are. You’re not just mine. You’re a prince. A protector. And I’m going to support you in this.”
He stared at me for a second, then shook his head with a smile. “Every time I believe I cannot love you more... you do something like this.”
He pulled me into a tight hug, and there was a brief tingle of magic between us. When I looked up, he was already dressed in his full travel leathers.
“With me stationed at Thor’s camp, I shall send updates a few times a week,” Loki said. “Most through our bond—real messages, just between us. But also with ravens. Those will be decoys, should they fall into the wrong hands. This way, no one questions why I am not messaging openly, and it keeps the truth of our bond hidden. Even from our own.”
I nodded, understanding the layers of protection he was building around us—around me.
“From now on I shall try to return once a week as planned,” he continued. “I cannot say exactly when, but it will likely be at night. I shall teleport directly into our room. If you are not there, I shall reach for you through the bond.”
He shifted slightly, the light dimming in his tone as he grew more serious.
“This time, when I draw from you, it shall be more than usual,” Loki said, his voice calm but firm. “I have calculated the necessary Seiðr to return and still be at full strength upon arrival. It should remain within our capacity—but your reserves are already lower than usual, as I drew from you when I arrived.”
He paused, his gaze steady on mine.
“Just in case, I have instructed Yara to check on you once I teleport. If it proves too much, you must be honest and send word through raven. You are not to push through it if it makes you ill. Do you understand me, Aurora?”
He placed both hands gently on my face, eyes locked with mine.
“Promise me, Aurora. If it makes you ill—if the toll is anything close to what you endured healing Shadow—you will tell me.”
I gave him a crooked smile and hugged him. “Loki, you’re freaking out. Calm down. I give you my word.”
He exhaled and relaxed. “Apologies.”
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “Take a moment. Then go. Thor is waiting. I love you. Be safe.”
He nodded and kissed me, then gently pressed his forehead to mine. I felt him open the bond fully, our Seiðr rushing to meet and entwine. There was a strong pull—stronger than anything I’d felt from him before—but I stayed steady. He kissed me one last time, and then, with a flash of light, he was gone.
The moment he vanished, exhaustion washed over me. I flopped back onto the pillows.
“Aurora? Are you alright?”
Yara’s voice came from the doorway. She stepped inside, worry creasing her brow. I took a few breaths, then pushed myself upright, carefully.
“I’m fine,” I said with a small smile. “He just needed a lot of Seiðr this time. I’m tired, but honestly... it’s not nearly as bad as I expected. Still, I’m glad you came to check.”
She eyed me skeptically. “Are you sure?”
I nodded. “I’m sure. But I’m going to take it easy today. No magic for now I grinned. Could you run a bath for me and lay out one of my leather sets? Weapons too, just in case.”
Her concern softened into a smile, and with a nod, she turned toward the bathroom.
And just like that, I was alone again.
But this time... I wasn’t falling apart.