A/N: First Thor fic yay! It's a oneshot, featuring two OCs. Yeah, sorry about that. I only put Loki in the description thing because he features (a bit) and, well, he's awesome.
Anyway, I hope you like it and please review!
Oh, and no flames, if you please. My self esteem is low enough as it is.
Tell me everything that happened
Tell me everything you saw
They had lights inside their eyes
They had lights inside their eyes
Did you see the closing window?
Did you hear the slamming door?
They moved forward, my heart died
They moved forward, my heart died Oh please tell me what they looked like
Did they seem afraid of you?
They were kids that I once knew
They were kids that I once knew
'Dead Hearts', Stars
The first time Frey ever rendered Anna speechless was when he was twenty-one and she was nearly eighteen. She was so awed by the spectacle in front of her that she promptly turned around and fled back to her family home. There she took shelter in the comforting arms of her mother, who always seemed to know when something was wrong.
"Tell me everything that happened, my love."
After a brief pause to collect her thoughts, which had been whirling around her head like leaves in a tornado, Anna said quietly, "I saw the princes at the feast."
"And what, pray tell, was so awful about that?"
Oh, Mother. If you had been there, you would understand.
The warriors of Asgard had just returned from dealing with a Light Elf rebellion in Alfheim. No one had died, so naturally there was a huge celebration, with music and dancing and ale and everyone dressed up in their finest gowns and ceremonial armour. As always, the royal family descended the great marble stairs into the banqueting hall to the rapturous applause of their subjects below. Odin and Frigga went first, of course, the Allfather standing tall and proud with his one eye shining as he surveyed the multitude. But it was who came next that affected Anna the most.
The three young princes of Asgard.
Thor came first, holding Mjolnir aloft and roaring like an exuberant bear, his bright red cloak flowing out behind him. No doubt he was already overexcited for the feast and all the opportunities for drinking (and boasting) it provided. Beside him stood his younger brother, Loki, looking altogether calmer and more regal. Anna had always preferred the god of mischief's armour - its dark shade was subtler than Thor's, more tasteful, and the forest-green cloak accentuated his sparkling emerald eyes. Loki was certainly very handsome, but as Anna's gaze fell upon the person whose ear he was whispering into, all thoughts of, well, anything abruptly vanished from her mind.
Odin Almighty.
Prince Frey had certainly grown up since the last time she saw him.
Since her father was a respected lord and good friend of the Allfather, she and Odin's sons had been taught by the same professor from when they were seven. Or, rather, she and Loki had been taught. Thor had not paid any attention at all, choosing instead to flick bits of paper into his brother's dark hair and yawn from time to time. Then, one day, their teacher had announced that they would have a new student joining them from now on. His name was Frey, and he was Thor and Loki's cousin, the son of Odin's brother, Njord. He was three years older than them, but the teacher thought that Loki and Anna were advanced enough that they could be taught the same material as Frey. "You too are more than ready for the advanced stuff. Thor, however... I'm afraid he may have to stop his schoolwork and carry on practising the art of combat."
"So he won't be in our lessons any more?" Loki asked eagerly.
"No, he will not."
Loki let out a loud whoop of joy before quickly covering his mouth with his hands and mumbling, "I mean, that's a shame." He winked at Anna behind the professor's back and she giggled.
Frey had arrived the following day. Anna knew at once that she was going to like him - he had a friendly, open face, and he was kind to everyone, no matter what their race or social status. He got on particularly well with Loki, and the two could often be seen talking together in the palace gardens, Loki demonstrating some new trick he'd learned and Frey laughing in delight. He was always fascinated by magic, although he could only master one spell himself - the ability to turn his hair into fire. Truth be told, it looked a lot like fire normally; it was bright red with streaks of gold running through it, like flames licking around his head. It had incredible volume (or, as Anna called it, "puff factor"), always sticking up in several different directions no matter how much he combed it.
Anna enjoyed Frey's company immensely, but then came the time every child dreads - growing up. On his eighteenth birthday Frey was sent away to complete his training in Alfheim. Then when he returned ten months later, his father was bitten by a sea serpent and died shortly afterwards. He was kept so busy with the funeral and sorting out Njord's kingdom that Anna had hardly seen him in three years. And now here he was, right in front of her, and she was frozen to the spot.
Like his cousins, he was wearing ceremonial armour, but unlike theirs his was crafted by the Light Elves themselves. And it really showed. It was burnished bronze in colour, with intricate knot patterns winding around the edges of the breastplate and running down his arms. A cloak of deepest cobalt hung from his broad shoulders, bringing out the blue in his stormy eyes and making his hair look even brighter. While the other princes appeared to have opted for the helmets that made them look most like animals (a cow and a bird respectively), his was of the Corinthian style, complete with a magnificent blue horsehair plume. Overall, his outfit was halfway between Thor and Loki - impressive, but not too flashy.
That wasn't the awful thing, though. It was -
Ugh. It was hard to explain.
They just had a sort of light in their eyes, those three, a powerful light, a dangerous light, like they could smite you with one finger without even thinking about it. Loki and Thor had always had some of it, but there had never been anything but warmth in Frey's eyes when they were younger, and Anna had expected that that would always be the case. How wrong she was.
And then the three gods moved forwards, down the stairs towards her, and Frey looked down and caught her eye and smiled at her, just like he used to when they were kids, and her heart was filled with abject terror and she ran away.
"What was so scary, my love?"
"I... Just the way he looked at me... It was like he didn't recognise me, like I didn't matter any more..." A tear rolled down her nose and splashed onto her dress.
"Hush, my child. I'm sure he was just confused, what with all the noise and hullabaloo. In fact -" But before her mother could impart more words of wisdom on her daughter, she was interrupted by a discreet coughing by the door.
"Ma'am?"
"Yes, Beylin?"
"There's someone at the door, for Miss Anna."
"Tell them to go away. She's not feeling herself at the moment."
"But, ma'am, I can't - "
"And why, pray, can you not?" Anna's mother's voice took on a hard edge, her eyes glimmering dangerously. Beylin swallowed visibly and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
"It's, um..."
"It's who? Spit it out, boy!"
"It's - it's P-prince Frey, m-ma'am."
Anna's heart stopped beating for the second time that day. Frey? Frey was here? What in Valhalla was he doing here?
"Prince Frey?" Her mother was equally astounded.
"Y-yes, ma'am. He says if you would be so kind as to let your daughter outside for a moment or two, he would like to speak with her." Typical Frey. So polite.
It doesn't matter if he's polite, stupid, hissed a little voice in her head. What are you going to say to him?
She honestly didn't know. But she had never been one to back away when she was afraid, so she squeezed her mother's hand for support and walked calmly to the front door.
Frey was standing in the front garden, leaning against a tree. He had taken off his armour and helmet, leaving just his dark blue trousers and white linen shirt. His feet were bare, his sleeves were rolled up and his hands were thrust deep into his pockets, a sign she recognised as indicating that he was deep in thought. For a moment, he looked almost exactly as he had when he was thirteen and she was ten, before their parents and parties and boring grown-up stuff got in the way.
"Hey," she said softly, coming to stand beside him. He turned at the sound of her voice and smiled at her, his grey-blue eyes alight with happiness and a tinge of concern. That was another thing about him she had missed - his caring heart.
"Hey. Are you okay?"
"Yes. Yes, I'm fine. Why?" She tried to sound nonchalant, but her hands were shaking a little.
"You seemed a little...off at the feast."
"No, no. I'm fine, really."
"That's good. You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"Of course." When she saw him. Which was never.
"I just feel like you're hiding something from me." Damn it. And there she was thinking she had an impeccable poker face.
"It's nothing, really."
"Anna..."
"It's silly. You'll think I'm being oversensitive."
"I would think you were being oversensitive? Me? The guy who cried at Volstagg's wedding?"
She laughed, remembering spotting him blubbering away as the vows were exchanged. "Okay, maybe you won't. But it's still stupid."
"I promise I won't laugh." He draws his thumb and index finger across his closed mouth, pretending to zip it shut. She sighs. She wasn't planning on telling him, but she can't resist those beautiful eyes for long. And how will the problem ever get sorted if you don't talk about it? says her mother's voice in her head.
"Okay, fine. I ran away from the feast because when I saw you on the stairs you looked so different and then when you looked down at me I thought you didn't recognise me and then I started panicking inside because I was so scared that you'd forgotten me after everything we've been through and that you thought I was just some stupid kid who doesn't know what she's doing and then you looked like you were going to smite someone and then I started imagining you killing people and it was just so horrible and then - mmmmfff!" Here the massive tide of words was interrupted by Frey's mouth connecting with hers.
Well, this is new, she thought. Her first kiss. And it was Frey, for Odin's sake!
But it was quite nice, to be honest. His arms were wrapped around her waist, his long fingers resting in the small of her back, and his lips against hers were warm and soft and exerted just the right amount of pressure - not too hard, mind, but definitely pushing a little. She was disappointed when he pulled away.
"Does that answer your question?"
"Um. Yes. I think. Can we try again though? I think I have some more questions that need to be answered." He grinned at her and went in for another kiss, which she gladly returned, reaching up to run her hands through his thick red hair.
And that is the story (minus a few details) that Anna tells at the next banquet when Frey's family asks how they got together, much to the chagrin of Frey himself and the delight of his cousins. Particularly Loki. Well, he's not called the god of teasing for nothing.
The End