CHAPTER ONE: A BELOVED QUEEN DIES
Loki watched the rain patter against the window, rivulets of water falling down the glass. His mother had once told him that the reason it rained on the day of a funeral was because the angels were crying, mourning the passing of a kind person. It made so much sense, then, as he looked out beyond the walls of the castle. Dirt was being shoveled into Frigga's grave, where her polished wooden coffin would be buried forever, leaving her body to rot. Loki would never see his mother again, and the thought pulled heavily on his heart. He collapsed into the cushioned sofa on the far side of the room, curling his knees to his chest and ducking his head into the darkness created by his body. He didn't look up when the door opened and heavy footsteps crossed the room to him.
"Brother." Thor said softly, one large warm hand coming to rest on his shoulder. "Please, eat."
"I'm not hungry." he snapped, but sorrow had drained his conviction and it came out of his mouth pitiful and broken. He felt the cushion sink as his brother sat next to him and put an arm around him. He was drawn towards his brother, his head resting in the crook of his neck. He could hear his pulse, could feel the way he swallowed his sobs and trembled. Loki and Thor cried silently together in that room, until they both admitted their exhaustion and awkwardly parted for bed.
The next morning the sky was overcast, naught but dark grey clouds and heavy white fog. When Loki appeared to the dining room for breakfast—surprisingly famished, until he remembered his sorrowful fasting the day earlier—a servant quickly grabbed him, apologized for it, and told him he was wanted in the throne room. After retrieved an apple from the table to eat, he made his way through the fire-lit stone hallways until he reached the throne room. A maid took the fruit core from him as his arrival was announced and he entered the room. Thor and his friends, all clad in black silks and leathers, stood to one side of the throne. But what Loki's gaze settled on as he crossed the room and bowed to her before joining his brother was the surprising guest in the middle of the court
The woman stood before the King, smiling at him demurely, bright hazel-green eyes peeking at him from underneath dark lashes that cast light shadows across her cheeks. Fandral began to whisper rather lewd suggestions in Thor's ear, but the blond sent a sharp elbow into his rubs and successfully silenced him. Odin still wore his mourning robes, but Loki was not blind to the desire in his Father's gaze as he greeted the young woman. He took her delicately pale hand in his roughened one and placed a kiss upon her smooth knuckles.
"May I have the honor of your name?" he asked her. The lady blushed a deep pink across her cheek bones and the bridge of her nose. Her dark curls only emphasized the pale cream of her skin.
"Farbauti." she answered coolly, and her eyes flickered toward him for just a moment, a moment that Loki did not miss and unnerved him greatly. There was evil and mischief in her eyes. Loki, without so much as another word, left the room, taking care to slam the heavy iron-wrought wooden doors. He hissed at a maid begging him to return to the room. Instead Loki returned to his bedroom, making sure to bolt the door so that Thor could not throw it open and demand he return and apologize to the witch who had charmed their father. It turned out to be a very wise decision, as not long after his dramatic departure the door handle began to shake, and then a heavy fist pounded against the gilded wood.
"Open this door, Loki!" Thor bellowed from the hallway. He moved to stand before the door, his own voice calm and quiet.
"No."
"If you do not—"
"What will you do? Stand before my door and force me to starve? Because I can assure you that last part will happen if he marries her." he hissed, feeling satisfaction at his brother's silence on the other side.
"No one spoke of marriage."
"Just because it was not spoken does not mean it isn't there. Did you even see the way he looked at her?"
"Loki, you must apologize to her." Thor argued, though it was a futile effort, and Loki knew Thor knew it.
"I will not speak to that harlot." he spat. "You may as well start digging another grave, Thor, because I would rather die than claim that woman as my mother."
Thor clenched his hands and his molars were pressed so hard together he was sure he'd crack his teeth. Only Sif's calming hand on his bicep eased his tension.
"Come," she said quietly, no doubt trying to keep her words where Loki could not hear them. "We must return to your father. Tell them he was feeling sick." she added, tugging at his arm. He looked from her to his brother's door once more, and allowed her to lead him down the hall, her hand tucked into his elbow.
"I fear my brother grows more rebellious every day." he told her.
"You have just lost your mother. Seeing your father with another woman, intentions or not, he is hurting. He must have misread Lady Farbauti's actions or the way your father looked at her. He will heal, in time."
"I hope you are right." Thor placed his hand over hers.
Back within the throne room Odin looked more than displeased with his son's behavior, speaking in hushed, reassuring tones with Lady Farbauti. Sif removed herself from Thor's side and retreated to the sidelines to whisper with the warriors.
"It seems my brother had suddenly felt ill and did not wish to disturb you, Milady." Thor lied with a low bow. "I hope you are not offended by his sudden departure."
"Not at all." she replied sweetly. She casually brushed an inky curl from her face, her eyes watching him predatorily. He felt a slight unease before her, dismissing the thought as soon as it entered his mind. "My King, your sons are but babes; how old must you be?" she asked him, stroking a surprisingly cold hand down his cheek. Thor suppressed a shiver, though he could not hide the goose flesh rising upon his skin.
"Twenty and one." he replied, backing away from her slowly. He could somewhat see why Loki did not like this woman. She seemed dangerous, like a snake weaving, ready to attack at the slightest of movements. She had the demeanor as someone who would kill you with a smile. Suddenly he didn't like the idea of this woman in the castle, either. "I dislike to be rude to a woman, Lady Farbauti, but I should attend to my brother. Make sure he does not require my assistance."
"What a wonderful child." she mused. "I should not like to keep you much longer from your brother."
"You may go, Thor." Odin consented, looking more than anxious to be left alone with his new love interest. The young Prince and his friends departed. Hogan was the first to speak.
"You look disturbed." he said evenly.
"I fear Loki's suspicions of that woman may be correct. When she touched me…" Thor reached up, fingers brushing across his cheek much in the same way hers had. "I cannot convince my father against marrying her, not when he so desperately craves a partner. But we will be keeping an eye on her."
"By 'we,' do you mean us as well?" Fandral asked. The nervous tone of the Prince had him fingering the hilt of his sword. Thor paused to turn and face his friends. With Loki's suspicion, they had simply dismissed it. He wondered why they worried only now.
"Of course. I am your friend, and my father your King."
"Like you even needed to ask." Volstagg muttered beneath his breath, despite the fact that his deep baritone was nearly impossible to mute. Fandral shot him an annoyed scowl.
"I will speak to my brother about this woman. Sif, I need you to find out what you can, even rumors will suffice."
"Who should I ask?"
"Men and women at the pub. Travelers, merchants. anyone who has been outside our walls." Thor ran a nervous hand through his golden hair. "Perhaps we may able to ease my brother's trouble."
Loki was not surprised to hear the next morning that Odin wished to wed Farbauti, the maiden beaming proudly by his side. Thor had warned him about his behavior—even more about holding his famous silver tongue—and so he entered the dining room for breakfast the next morning with his mouth silent. The Lady, surprisingly, sat directly beside her husband-to-be, blushing as she cut into her morning meal. Thor and Loki exchanged wary glances; Frigga had always dined earlier than her family, up and ready and doing her queenly duties before any of her men had opened their eyes. Their chairs were on the other side of the table. Odin waved to them to move their chairs and sit down, mouth full of food. Once again, an unsettling change from their usual routine.
"I thought that we should eat together like my family did." Farbauti explained. Loki bit the inside of his cheeks to keep his snarky comments to himself. But when Thor moved to grab the chairs, he stopped him.
"Allow me, brother." he said. Thor caught the tone in his voice, but said nothing. Loki flicked his fingers toward the chairs. He relished in the truly horrified expression on the Lady's face as they floated toward her, following the movement of the sorcerer's hand. Thor's expression was stiff as he grabbed their backs and pushed them down onto the floor. His interference broke the spell.
"Ah. Oh. How, uhm, how charming." she stammered, hands gripping the arms of her chairs tightly, enough to bleach the blood from her knuckles. Loki bowed to her and sat as a manservant brought two plates of food for the Princes.
"Loki loves to show off." Odin said with a pointed look at his younger son. "He's quite proud of his magical abilities."
"He should be. To use a spell like the without having to utter a word. He certainly has the heart for it." Farbauti was looking at him over the rim of her cup, eyes narrowed. Loki kept his face void of any emotion. He was sure everyone could feel the tension between them as breakfast continued in silence.
Farbauti stood before the mirror, her own beautiful reflection scowling back at her with pouty red lips and deep crimson eyes. She stroked it's glassy, ice-cold surface. "Mirror, mirror, on the wall." she chanted slowly, standing close enough that her breath swept across the surface and spread a cool, condensing fog. "Who is the fairest of them all?"
Slowly within the mirror the spirit took shape. It appeared to the Queen as a large black shadow with a pointed head, much like a hood, and glowing red eyes. The Queen stroked it lovingly.
"Within all the lands inside my view, there be not man, child, or woman to surpass you." he said to her. Farbauti smiled, her grin nearly splitting her face in half. She giggled into her hand like a virgin maid and caressed the polished gold frame of the mirror.
"My Lady," came the voice of her maid-in-waiting, muffled through the oak door. "The wedding is about to begin."
"I am coming." she said, pressing her lips to the mirror before pulling away. Her own reflection stared back at her wantonly as she turned away from her most precious treasure to walk once more down the wedding aisle.
