OKAY, so here we have a new story! I hope you all enjoy this... I'm just testing it out. I don't know how far it will go, but you're feedback would help me so, so, SO much, so comment! Also you may notice (if you've read my other stories) this chapter is super short and I'm probably going to keep all of them this way; it's just a new structure I'm trying out. Also if this story does enthral you, I want to-beforehand-let you know that this is not going to follow the storyline of Avengers (or even Thor) very much. I'm pretty much just using Marvel's AMAZING characters and creating my own story around them. As a result, you may notice parts of the writing that you aren't familiar with (the types of elves, the Vanir...) that I lifted from the actual Comic to supplement and deepen the material. So if you don't know what I'm talking about, maybe check it out on the Marvel Wikia; some material is also lifted from Norse mythology, which you can just check out on Wikipedia if you wish. I'm sorry if this turns people away, but I'm much more interested in writing about the Marvel characters and the Norse mythology than the movie, sorry! So if this isn't for you, no feelings hurt.
Sorry for this SUPER long message but I just want to add that I'm constructing a lot of the missing elements of the Norse and Marvel universe, such as the social classes between realms, cross and inter-species prejudice, etc... So if it's confusing for now, I hope to clear it up later on.
PLEASE let me know what you think! - Alisson
Lofn figured she didn't really do anythingwrong, when she thought about it. It was only a gentle, well-natured prank upon her self-obsessed step-mother. Even the pillar of virtue that was her favourite sister, Sjöfn, agreed that their father had overreacted to the trick.
"It is the repeated behaviour of disrespect, Lofn! That is why you're going to Asgard! I can no longer tolerate your mischief and the sheer havoc your wreak upon Ljosalfgard. And if you think your latest folly is somehow excusable, need I remind you of what happened just last month with Lady Maelja?"
Her father's voice rang in her head and she winced. He was always so horrifically loud in exacting justice upon his bastard daughter; he used the full measure of his voice upon her—a volume so loud it crushed the eardrums of mortals. And she didn't even want to think about his memory… he had lived for more millennia than she could recall, and he seemed to perfectly retain every day of it. However, truth be grudgingly told, the catastrophe of Lady Maelja was quite bad… But she couldn't help it!
Since she was no more than a hundred year-old infant, forbidden lovers had been kissing her feet in hopes of her blessing. Lady Maelja and her partner were just one of the some-thousand that had arrived. Maelja was a beautiful Sea Elf of extremely noble birth—just a single rank beneath that of Lofn's legitimate half-siblings. As a result, she had been betrothed to Prince Einar for four years. However, Prince Einar—by Lofn's own experience—was a temperamental brat spoiled by their father; Lady Maelja had seen this more than once. And even more unfortunately, Maelja had fallen in love with her family's lowly stablehand, a strapping and good-natured mixed-Elf named Mir. In a final shard of decorum, Mir had insisted they go to the 'goddess of forbidden lovers' before consummating their relationship. And so Lofn was approached late at night and worshipped by the two.
That part of it was something Lofn never really got comfortable with. A silly bastard half-god, barefoot, nightgown-clad, sleepy-eyed, being bowed to by a dashing couple older than herself by a century. Maelja was too self-possessed to do more than ask cooly at Lofn's feet for her blessing, but Mir was a good patron. He brought her a bottle of Spice Elf-made wine that cost him all he was worth, he was kind and modest—not using his handsomeness to his advantage as so many men did, and he accorded her an honour that many did not.
Lofn knew granting her blessing would set off the court in pure chaos, but she couldn't help it. That was why she was also, to her immense disdain, called the goddess of indulgence. To such great passions and such pure loves… she couldn't say no; she couldn't help it. Lofn had reluctantly performed the rites and the couple then set off to the forests of the Pleasure Elves. They had not yet been caught, as so many couples blessed by Lofn were. She also couldn't help that, either. That was how true Vanir godhood worked, after all. No spells were necessary—just the blessing. And with that, whatever the worshipper asked for usually happened, if the god blessed it. That last bit was the tricky part, however. Lots of gods and goddesses were less merciful than Lofn. But again… She couldn't help it.
Such an act of charity—in Lofn's opinion—was not seen as such by the court. Maelja's father, Lord Telgon, had threatened to withdraw his support from the king's army unless Einar was betrothed to his only remaining daughter, a bastard mixed-Elf whose beauty paled in comparison to Maelja's.
Perhaps it was a bit too early to charm her step-mother, Einar's mother, into a toad… But she couldn't reverse her actions now, for she was already standing on the Rainbow Bridge that attached the Bifrost to Asgard.
Lofn could already tell everything was different about this place. For one, it was all golden—which she found a bit ostentatious. Pyramids, pillars, and palaces of gold stabbed into the ever-blue skyline. There was some remaining greenery—patches of forest, gardens, the occasional tree—but most of it was cleared. She certainly didn't like that part. Ljosalfgard and all of Alfheim was carved into nature, not built upon its clearance. She was not surprised her Vanir aunts and uncles preferred to stay on Vanaheim or, like her father, opted for other realms. Asgard, as put delicately by him, 'reeked of the Æsir.'
"Are you trying to spoil me like you did your lawful children? This place is far too lavish to be a prison," Lofn spoke upwards to her father, who stood a metre over her.
"No child with Vanir blood in their veins can enjoy a place such as this. Not even a bastard," he spoke grudgingly. He didn't much like speaking with her, he never had.
This other king, who her father so disliked, approached. Odin was not as tall but thicker, and was not as handsome. But gods of fertility, like her father, were always beautiful; not the same can be said about gods of wisdom. To the right of Odin was the woman who, Lofn figured, was his wife, Frigga. She appeared far younger than her husband, and was furthermore too beautiful for him. Her hair was thick like a rope and golden like the monoliths behind her, and she was tall and fair-skinned. Guards surrounded them—like they could hurt a hair on my father's head, Lofn thought—atop horses taller than any she'd ever seen in Alfheim.
"King Frey," Odin addressed Lofn's father after a moment's silence. "I am glad to see you again. It has been too many millennia, I fear."
"Certainly," Frey stiffly responded. "I understand you received my message."
"We did," Frigga answered. Lofn was surprised to see her respond for her husband. "And we invite you to stay with us in Asgard whilst I meet your daughter."
"That will not be necessary," Frey quickly replied. "For even if you deny her your court as a ward, I have supplied her with the means to live in Asgard outside of the palace. She is a bastard and needs no delicacy."
"You intend to take your leave without assurance of your daughter's safety?" Frigga objected, but Odin sent her a glance that silenced her. That's more like it, Lofn thought.
"She has no place on Alfheim, nor would I burden my people with her on Vanaheim—they have not the patience nor the charity of the Æsir," Frey answered. Lofn was surprised to hear her father speak of his people this way, but it was true. The Vanir were not teachers nor wardens. They were too proud and ill-humoured to take students and lesser gods, especially one as rambunctious as Lofn.
"It is kind of you to think of us as such," Odin answered in a cold voice. "But I understand you wish for her schooling by my wife? That is a tall favour you ask of us."
"Lofn has all the powers of a true Vanir god, in spite of her Elven blood. Any Asgardian would be wise to study her grasp of sorcery. It is not learned like that of the Æsir. It is in our blood," Frey began accidentally delving into his beliefs on the superiority of the Vanir over the Æsir, but tried to catch himself. "Regardless, you need not take her as a student, Queen Frigga. I hoped my proposal would be appreciated, considering so few Vanir compose your court…"
"It is appreciated, King Frey," Frigga replied before her husband could. "Such talent must be studied, especially as a sorceress myself."
Lofn knew her father was having trouble not rolling his wide, grey eyes. "But also, schooled. If you take her, I would hope for the betterment of her control. She has so little of it now."
"Of course," Frigga nodded. She finally met the eyes of the subject they so frigidly spoke of. Lofn looked at the queen warily, studying the traditional beauty that Lofn herself had always longed for. Where Frigga's face was rounded and measured, Lofn's was sharp and convoluted. No colours nor shapes on her made sense—white hair, tanned skin, freckled nose, pointed ears.
Frigga stepped towards her and extended a hand, beckoning the girl. Lofn stepped from her father's shadow and walked towards her. When the Queen was near enough Lofn could smell the gardenia perfume she wore, Frigga gently placed a hand on Lofn's smooth cheek. Lofn felt an electric current pulse when their skin touched.
"Yes," Frigga nodded. "I see it. She is powerful."
"And more importantly, volatile. I recommend you not forget that," Frey added.
"A threat, King Frey?" Odin questioned sharply.
"A warning," Lofn's father corrected.
"She will stay in court with me," Frigga quickly interjected the heating conversation between the two kings.
"You can tell so quickly, wife?" Odin asked.
"Yes. She shall fit well."
"Then I take my leave," Frey gratefully nodded. Lofn looked up to say goodbye, but Frey's eyes were on Odin. "'Til next time, king."
Without a parting glance, Frey was walking back towards the Bifrost. Frigga's hand tightened on Lofn's shoulder as she watched her father leave.