I have no ownership over Thor or anything Marvel related.


Chapter Two

I sat in the Queen's bed chamber before the fire. My legs were tucked underneath me and I was currently focused on the needle that was cross-stitching on it's own. Well, almost. Frigga, who sat in a chair next to me, had been cross-stitching it herself about an hour ago and wondered aloud if my magic would be able to get the project done quicker. With a snap of my fingers, I controlled the needle and thread. Of course, I needed concentration to finish it.

The Queen had been quite pleased.

"Speaking of magic," She said, her tone low, barely audible over the fire if she hadn't leaned forward to speak to me. I could sense the small smile in her voice as I continued to stare at the project. "I had supper with my son, Loki,"

"Of course," I nodded. "I remember preparing the room for it."

"He told me Thor bothered you a while ago?" My sudden glance away from the needle and fabric provoked her to speak more about it. "You were reading a book in the courtyard."

"Oh, that. No, Thor was a perfect gentleman. He was talking about adventuring and fighting; a subject I'm not very learned on." I explained. The confrontation between brothers over my book in the courtyard had been perhaps a week or two ago.

"Pardon me, My Queen," The voice of an unexpected guard broke my concentration, causing the fabric and thread to drop onto the floor. Both the Queen and I looked at the guard, ready for whatever he was to say next. "Prince Loki wishes to speak with you before you go to bed."

"Oh," A grin grew on the Queen's face. I wondered if the guard had told her Thor was here to see her, the smile would be half as powerful as it was for the younger brother. "Yes! Yes, allow him in. Loki's always so caring towards me." She spoke the last bit to me for the guard had already bowed and turned away.

There was a shift in the room when Loki entered. I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. He was still wearing what I had seen him in earlier that day. The black hair that none of his other family members had was losing it's grip and had fallen a little bit on his ears. Loki held his hands behind his back as a pleasant smile sat on his face as his mother and I stood. I gave a small curtsy. I still found it out of habit to be constantly bowing to every lady and lord in sight.

"Loki, darling," Frigga purred. "What brings you here so late?"

Loki shrugged, sidestepping to the other chair that sat opposite of his mother's. "Nothing really important; is it odd that a son wishes to speak to his mother before he goes to sleep?"

"Not at all darling," Frigga chuckled as she sat in her seat. "Eira, do you think you could bring me something to drink? Are you thirsty, Loki?"

"No, thank you," Loki spoke softly. I caught the glance he gave me as I curtsied and crossed the room to get what the Queen asked for. "So, I spoke to Erikson just a moment ago."

Erikson, I remembered him. He was the man who kept track of the going ons in the palace. Mostly he kept the Royals on schedule but he also kept the dates of important ceremonies and such.

"Oh? Whatever for?" Frigga asked. I felt like a fly on the wall as I heard their conversation and prepared the drink.

"I cleared my schedule on the fourth." The mischevious grin of his was obvious in his voice.

"The fourth? Is something special happening that day?" Frigga took the goblet from me, not even paying attention to me at all. Again, I caught the swift glance Loki gave me.

The younger of the prince's shrugged. "No, not really. I rarely have anytime to myself anymore; I would like to practice my magic some."

"I'm sure your skills do need some brushing up after the conflict in Svartalfheim."

The smile on the Queen's face was certainly one of jest but Loki's was not. A fiery red blush raced across his face, making me wonder what had exactly happened on Svartalfheim. Loki shifted in his chair a bit, perhaps embarrassed his mother had called him out infront of me. Turning my back to clean the tray I used to make Frigga's drink I couldn't help my smile.

"Yes, I suppose so."

As the conversation between mother and son continued, I felt more and more like I was eaves dropping. I should have left the second Loki stepped in the room. I began to straighten things that were already straight and reorganize knick-knacks I had reorganized that morning. Finally tired of feeling like I was interrupting something important between the two, I pardoned myself. The awkwardness in the room elevated as Loki stood to say good night. Nevertheless, I smiled and returned his good night.

Frigga had been kind enough to grant me a more than adequate room. It had a balconey that could be open or closed depending on if I want it to be. And no matter the season, if the balconey was open, the room kept a perfect temperature. Controlled by magic of course. The room was dark when I entered, except for the fire that had been going on in the fireplace. I stood in the room not quite ready to surrender to the comforting darkness of sleep. An idea popped in my head, something I hadn't done in a while.

I kicked off my sandals and dropped my dress to the floor. The wind on the balconey felt nice on my bare skin; they day had been a bit hotter than normal for the spring time. I should have been concerned about someone seeing me naked on the balconey, but at the height I was at, I wasn't so concerned. Spreading my arms out, I tilted my head back, choosing the correct words of our coveted and ancient language. I spoke the words in my head and smiled as magic flowed through my veins, changing my form.

Razor sharp curved talons extended from my four clawed scaly feet. My fingertips were now feather tips on powerful wings. The night is how bright and beautiful in my new red-tailed hawk vision. I had learned a long time ago that my eyes stayed the same color when I shifted. Also that clothes didn't come alone with the change. I was still working the kinks out to that problem.

The wind on the balconey ruffled my white and auburn mottled feathers. Scents of all kinds rushed into my sharp nostrils. I wasn't sure which to follow. The smells of fresh baked bread or the mixture of smells from the perfume shop I frequented? While I was trying to decide if I should go to the butcher or baker to beg for scraps in my hawken form, another smell caught me. My head turned sharply toward the direction it was coming from as my brain registered what the smell was.

A combination of vanilla and lilies. The lilies stuck in my mind. Since I was a young child, they had been my favorites. Maybe because my father, everytime he came home from a battle, would bring lilies for my mother. Or perhaps because I found them to be gorgeous and a natural beauty. Either way, I spread my wings and with a short chirp, I took off and followed the scent of the lilies.


Curiosity had caused me to pry into her mind that afternoon weeks ago. And I was quite surprised she hadn't said anything or noticed for that matter. Maybe she had noticed and was waiting for the right time to lay waste to my conscienceness. I had felt a mass of raw energy when I took a peek. But, I hadn't come up with much. Only that her favorite scent was vanilla, soft-sunset orange was her favorite color, and the same color of lilies were her favorite.

I wished I could have pulled some more vital information from her than a smell, color, and flower. However, because her father was a member of my father's army I could find anything out about her home life if I so chose. As a matter of fact, I already knew she had a mass of siblings and was the oldest of them. None of her brothers were yet old enough to enlist and live on their own and her sisters were still trying to figure out what their occupations were going to be.

I wondered if they were going to choose to be seamstresses like their mother or a magician like their oldest sister

After saying goodnight to my mother I went to my own bed chambers. Now that I was older, my room was almost on the opposite side of the palace. I had to pass Thor's room in order to get to my own. Something made me curious what was happening in there; considering I heard laughs from not only my brother but Sif, Volstagg, and Fandral. Surely Hogun was in there as well. The man didn't smile or laugh much though. It was kind of weird.

As I passed, I heard Thor mentioning something about Eira to his friends. Fandral noted seeing her with my mother and she had given him a cold side glance. Sif spoke in a haughty voice that she was more of a match for me. Giving a snort and a smile, I continued on my own way to my bed. It didn't take me long to prepare for bed after which I allowed the balconey on my room to be opened. There was a quirky smile on my face as I noticed the vase of pink and white daylilies on the balconey table. It was pure coincedence that the servants put them in the vase.

Plucking one of the blooms from it's watery home I sat in a chair on the balconey. A strange look crossed my face as the scent of the flower wafted into my nostrils. There was an interesting beauty to the flower. However, the scream of a hawk stole my attention from the lily. I saw her wheel about in the sky, a couple windows higher than my room. When I approached the balconey to investigate the bird she took a sharp turn and plunged from the sky. Landing on the railing of my balconey.

I was right on my assumtion that the hawk was a female. She was smaller than anyother hawk I've seen. In the firelight that lit up my room I could see the wonderful colorings of her feathers. Her belly was mostly white with a few speckles of brown. But the wings were mostly a tawny brown, as was the underside of her tail feathers. A red tailed hawk. Like any bird would she blinked rapidly, tilting her head around as well.

Taking careful footsteps, I neared the bird of prey. I wondered what it was that compelled her to hop towards me, short chirps leaving her beak as she did so. Like a child seeing a puppy or kitten for the first time I cautiously raised my hand. Not many of the inhabitants of the Hawkery cared to be touched. I had learned that the hard way long ago when I was a child. Still had the scar on my left forefinger to prove it.

Her feathers were softer than anything I've felt. Softer than the newest down of ducks and geese. Even better than a newborn lamb's wool. It was then I saw the gold tint of the bird's eyes. Out of the bird I had seen up close they all had varying shades of brown. But never the strong shade of gold this hawk had. There had only been one set of eyes he had ever seen this shade.

"Eira?" He whispered.

The hawk retracted her head and took a chunk of flesh from my finger. I growled in a mixture of hurt and anger. Choking back a rather vicious insult, I watched as the bird took off from the railing and took wing. She flew higher and higher until altogether disappearing. I narrowed my eyes.

Interesting. Very Interesting.