II.

TWO

only the beginning of the adventure

The sun rose and set on Alfheim, every day brighter and more beautiful than the last. It almost seemed mocking at times, how bewitching the view was. The way the light glimmered against the untouched fields of snow made the realm appear serene. As if its crown prince hadn't died to protect it.

At the balustrade of my veranda, I plunged my hands into the snow gathered atop the intricately carved railing. I felt none of its bite as I cupped the frost between my palms. It sparkled in the sun, the gleam blurred by the tears welling my eyes. When I heard the footfalls approaching from behind, I let it slip through my fingers before turning.

Mhalia strode across the veranda, her pointed ears pink from the chill. Hastily, I waved my hand, casting a spell to protect her from the cold. Under normal circumstances, my use of magic would've amused her greatly. But not today.

She dithered, wringing her hands together. "My lady..."

Sniffling, I paced the long veranda to meet her, the otherwise sturdy planks creaking beneath my every step. "What troubles you, Mhalia?"

"It's Driana," she replied, her eyes snapping up to hold mine. They glistened in the morning sun. A sadness pervaded all who dwelled in Alfheim; certain members of my ladies-in-waiting suffered more than most. "I went calling on her earlier, but she does not answer. The others have come to fret over her as well. We fear she has fallen ill."

I lowered my gaze, knowing the full truth. Though I suspected my other ladies had an inkling, Faradei and I remained the only individuals who were completely aware of the... affair between Castien and Driana. Sighing, I trailed my fingers along the crystal hanging from my neck. They had loved one another so much that they'd forewent all propriety to be together. And I did not blame them. I never could.

I looked at Mhalia, and it was my turn to dither. I could not tell her that Driana was not ill, for I knew Driana to be ill of heart rather than ill of health. "Fret no longer," I told the Elf maiden. "I will speak with her."

Within minutes, I traversed the halls of the palace and came to Driana's door. The polished wood was bathed in multicolour by the stained glass window beside it—brighter now with the vast whiteness blanketing the lands. It had been several days since the Chitauri struck the palace. Days since Castien's passing. Yet Driana's wounded heart remained unhealed; it was an open lesion whose bleeding could not be staunched. Swallowing, I knocked and held my breath to await her response. She made none.

"Driana, might I... might I have words with you?"

There was a distinct stretch of silence. Then, like a faint breeze, I heard her speak, "Leave me be. I wish to be alone."

I let out a breath and laid my hand flat on the door. "You should not have to suffer alone."

This time, she did not answer.

Seconds passed. Eventually, I leaned against the wall to the right of her door and slid down to the ground. My heavy skirts bunched up around me, the cloth wrinkled where I'd kept grasping at it throughout the day. I pressed my brow to my knees, wondering how this ever happened. The many questions we had about the Chitauri—about their arrival, their goals—remained unanswered. All that mattered now was the lives they took. With so many warriors deceased, along with their crown prince, the Light Elves were left floundering.

"Your Highness."

I raised my head to see Arlessa's approach. My handmaiden looked uncharacteristically worn. Due to sleepless nights, I suspected. I hadn't been faring much better, for that matter. "Do you bring tidings?" I asked, my voice suddenly hoarse. I climbed to my feet with all the dignity I could muster—a force of habit from my time in Alfheim.

Arlessa bowed her head. "His Highness—Prince Faradei bid me to tell you that the king's health is failing. It has only worsened since he was informed of... of Prince Castien's passing."

With all the grief that shrouded the palace, for one fleeting moment, I had forgotten about Tylock's condition. He'd been struck by a dart during the battle with the Chitauri. A dart coated in poison. Neither I nor the healers could identify the toxin. But we were fairly certain it hailed from one of the fringe worlds. Which meant that if there was a cure to be found, it could only be found there. The little we did know was that King Tylock was slowly dying.

Closing my eyes, I tugged a hand through my mussed hair. "Thank you, Arlessa." I touched her arm and nodded towards her bedchamber. "You should rest. We've all had very trying days."

I glimpsed her quavering smile before turning to venture the corridors. The palace seemed near devoid of life with most holed up in their chambers, frightened still or in mourning. There were few warriors patrolling the halls. Only a small number of them had to be tended to in the healing room. Many more had perished on the day of the attack.

Upon reaching my destination, I found Faradei sitting in the anteroom of his father's chambers. At first, I almost couldn't recognize him. He appeared haggard, his silvery blond hair dishevelled, dark circles settling beneath his dark blue eyes. When he heard my approach, he looked ready to rise to his feet, but I shook my head and slumped into the seat beside him.

Since his brother's death, Faradei and I hadn't had much occasion to talk. A part of me feared he was angry with me for letting Castien go, and for preventing him from following. Faradei never said as much, and I knew he never would, but the notion persisted in my mind. "How bad is it?" I asked. My words were deafening in the barren room.

"He is dying," Faradei replied. He stated it so simply, a mere fact. Nothing could be said or done to mitigate the gloom, in any case. "How fares Driana?"

My shoulders fell a little. "Unwell... or so I assume. She has not left her bedchamber for near three days now. She will not take any food either." I let loose a shuddering breath. "I worry for her."

"This may help. Or it may only cause more harm." He proffered a box, ornate with golden leaves and little green gems. "It is the box that belongs to this key." In his opposite hand, he uncurled his fingers to reveal the brass key Castien had given me in the last seconds of his life. "It took me many an hour to find it. He seemed to hide everything in the nooks and crannies of his bedchamber."

I smiled softly and took the small chest into my lap. The edges were cold as I caressed them, sliding my fingers downwards to unlatch the clasp. The inside was lined with cobalt blue velvet, scuffed from years of use. Brow furrowed, I scrutinized the countless items: little baubles, seashells, broken hairpins, and an amber crystal in a glass container that looked much like my own pendant albeit far larger. All sentimental objects. And I did not doubt they all had to do with Driana.

As I poked through some of the items, I noticed an envelope sitting at the bottom, one addressed to Driana. I froze and withdrew my hand. "Indeed, I am unsure of how she will react when she receives this." I shut the lid and met Faradei's gaze. "But she should have it."

The king's bedchamber door opened then, and we both looked to see a healer stride out. A most grave expression marked his features. He offered us the respectful bow of his head. "The king's health only continues to decline," he said. "His heartbeat is faint. I do not believe he has much time left, but he would speak with you. Both of you."

Faradei glanced my way, and I responded with a nod. Without a word, we stood and followed the healer into the bedchamber.

The king's chamber was sparsely furnished, though his bed was carved of magnificent oak, as were the two chairs placed on either side. A stone hearth sat by the foot of the bed, flames dancing brightly in the already well-lit room. There were several other healers tarrying by the glass balcony doors, their backs to the sun.

Ever the dutiful prince, Faradei nodded to them graciously and waited until they exited before taking the seat to his father's right. I deposited myself in the chair opposite him, my gaze flitting over the king at last.

Tylock did not necessarily appear frail, although I could tell that life was beginning to leave him. Despite his sickly pallor and the sheen of sweat on his brow, he sat straight and tall with all the great majesty of a king. He did not move. But he did look upon us in turn, his sharp blue eyes drooping with the effort.

"I have... words of import to bestow upon you." His voice was weak and wobbly, so much so that it did not sound like his voice at all. "The Chitauri... they were here because of me—because of what I have done."

Across the bed, Faradei and I exchanged a look. "What do you mean, Father?" Faradei said with the shake of his head. "What have you done?"

To my surprise, Tylock looked at me, blinking slowly. "I am sorry. Truly." Turning from me, he stared straight ahead as he further explained his transgressions, "I once forged an agreement with a mysterious traveller. It was through this accord that I acquired the army I would have used to go to war with the Aesir and the Vanir."

My eyes widened, but I did not dare interrupt him. "I was to uphold my... my end of the bargain, regardless of whether or not war came to pass," Tylock murmured, glancing towards his son. "A force such as theirs requires a steep price. And it was one I was not willing to pay in full. They... they made their threats one year past..." He trailed off, his once proud posture slackening.

Faradei, startled, reached out to grasp his father's shoulders. There was little he could do to help. "Father, please." He held his father upright, for the king could no longer do so himself. "The Chitauri and their keeper have done this. You are not wholly responsible."

Tylock grunted in refutation. "They... they must have bided their time before... struck us in winter..." His eyes began to droop, his head hanging to one side. "I was... so foolish... so rash..."

"Why did you refute them now?" Faradei asked, as if hoping his questions would keep his father coherent. But Tylock's time was at an end, and nothing would delay that.

"Castien... the key..." For the final time, his eyes drifted closed. I heard him say Faradei's name once more before repeating his apologies until his very last breath.

And then that was all.

King Tylock of Alfheim, the second of his name, died when the sun set on the realm he so hopelessly struggled to keep.

When the sun rose, it rose on a new ruler. His first command was to arrange a funeral for the fallen. In the span of three days, forty-two Light Elves had passed: forty warriors, a prince, and a king. The wintery weather let up just long enough for us to send them on their way.

I stood on the seashore, torch in hand. My ladies-in-waiting remained close behind, each clutching onto a bouquet of asphodels; the flowers were an array of stars, stellar clouds made to follow the dead into the afterlife. Hovering at my side, Driana stared into the vessel that lay before us. It was the first time in four days that she'd left her bedchamber. We were dressed the same—black cloth from head to toe, our dark veils fluttering in the ocean breeze.

With a heavy heart, I looked upon my deceased husband. I was struck by how at peace he appeared, as though he were sleeping. All traces of blood were gone, as was the colour in his cheeks, the smile he usually bore, the light in his eyes. All gone. Carefully, I tugged my wedding ring from my finger, the gold glinting in the firelight. Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to Castien's brow and tucked the little gold band within his folded hands.

"Goodbye Castien," I murmured. "May the valkyries bear you hence to the hallowed halls of your forefathers."

I withdrew and turned towards Driana. She made no movement. She did nothing more than regard his pale features. But after a moment, she swept forward and kissed his cheek, whispering words of her love to him. I had to look away when I saw her shoulders begin to shake.

Faradei stood on the other side of Castien's vessel, his hand resting on the stern of his father's boat. He bore the crown of a prince still, his circlet shining in the sunlight, even as the clouds rolled in and snow began to fall. His gaze settled on me, and he raised his torch with a nod.

Driana seemed to notice, for she pulled away from Castien. With a shuddering breath, I set Castien's ship alight and watched as his retainers sent it into the sea. Faradei did the same with his father's pyre, and soon all the vessels on the beach were aflame and floating towards the horizon. The mourners gathered at the water's edge and tossed the asphodels in their wake.

As I watched the pyres sail into the distance, I clung onto Driana's hand. She wept openly and unabashed, embodying the role of the widow in a way I never could. I allowed the tears to stream silently down my cheeks, but I would not let the sobs escape me.

When the burning boats disappeared into the setting sun, the mourners gradually began to depart. Letting go of my hand, Driana turned to face me. I could see her eyes glistening beneath her dark veil. "My lady, might I have a moment alone?" she said.

"Of course." I stepped aside, and she glided closer to the shoreline. There she stood, the ice-cold water seeping into the hem of her dress. She paid it no mind.

Arlessa and my ladies-in-waiting lingered a short distance away, their disconsolate gazes focussed on Driana. If they hadn't known of her relationship with Castien before, I did not doubt they knew now. Rubbing at the trails of tears on my face, I made my way up the beach where I found Lord Meyrick. He observed the proceedings with an unwavering eye, even as I approached.

"Losing one's love is not unlike losing a part of one's being," Meyrick said. "But Lady Driana will heal in time. All wounds do."

"How long have you known?"

He glanced in my direction, his expression passive. "Perhaps after the first few years of your time here. You and Castien maintained an amicable relationship, but nothing more." He nodded towards Driana. "And a love like theirs cannot be easily hidden from eyes as keen as mine."

I gave him a doleful smile. "I feel as though I cannot fathom her loss. The love Castien and Driana had..." Loki crossed my mind, and not for the first time that day. I missed him greatly, but I always retained the hope that I would see him again soon. He still lives, I told myself. And it was that thought alone that drove me. "To send him out to sea like this brings me such sorrow, yet I cannot imagine her pain."

I nearly started when he placed a hand on my shoulder. "Even so, you loved him dearly. He was your family. Castien will be borne away to the halls of Valhalla. Like all great warriors, he stands at the beginning of a new adventure." He looked out to the ocean, holding his head a little higher. "You never lose the ones you love, Eirlys. There is always hope that you will see them again some day."

It was not much longer before we returned to the palace where we mourned our dead with far greater solemnity than the Asgardians ever had.

The day following the funeral, I was called upon to confer with our new king. The late afternoon's light was starting to fade by the time I reached the enclosed bridge that led to the throne room. As I crossed, the guards posted by the open gate bowed their heads to me. I offered them the same courtesy and entered the grand chamber.

I strode down the cobalt blue carpet that lined the middle. It was at the end of it that I found Meyrick speaking in hushed tones to the king. Faradei hadn't been officially crowned—he wished to wait for Lord Frey's arrival with the majority of our warriors—yet he carried on as king regardless. He paused mid-sentence when my presence was heeded.

"Eirlys, I am glad to see you," Faradei said, not looking very glad at all. But I knew it was not due to my company. "There are some... tidings I think you must hear."

His cheerless bearing made me ill at ease. "Good tidings?" I asked. "Or bad?"

Faradei lowered his gaze, seeming reluctant to speak, while Meyrick stood as tall as his old back would allow. Eventually, the king cleared his throat and answered, "Well... Eirlys, I did not tell you everything of what the Chitauri have done."

I lifted a brow. "What have they done other than shake the very foundations of our realm?"

Running a hand over his face, he shifted in the seat of his throne. "They ransacked the treasury." I blinked at this; the only entrance to the treasury was deep within the palace, and no Chitauri made it past us in the entrance hall. "They dug right into the ground with... with what is assumed to be magic."

Tensing, I met his gaze. "Did you discern what they were looking for?"

"No, not yet," Faradei replied. "The treasury is in complete disarray. We aren't even certain if anything was taken."

"Perhaps they were seeking the payment your father promised them," I suggested, folding my arms over my midsection.

Faradei sighed and removed the crown from his head. "That is what worries me. You once told us that the Mad Titan collected weapons—weapons of rarity or great power, yes?"

With my lips pursed, I canted my head to one side. "I cannot be certain the Mad Titan is responsible for this. Your father never said who provided him with his army."

In one effortless motion, Faradei rose from his seat, hoisting the metal staff that had been leaning against the throne as he went. Steps silent on the velvet carpet, he proffered the weapon to me. "This is the staff with which Castien destroyed the Chitauri's artillery," he said. "Does it seem at all familiar to you?"

I took it from him and felt an immediate surge of dark energy, the flicker of magic sending unpleasant chills through my flesh. Verily, it was familiar to me, now that I gave it a more careful look. The metal was black as the night sky, strange otherworldly runes etched upon the shaft. All too clearly, I recalled seeing the same weapon in the hands of the Dark Elf who almost killed me in the corridor of the Asgardian palace's royal apartments. "Yes, I recognize it," I replied. "One of the Dark Elves wielded a similar weapon in Asgard. Perhaps we were right to believe the Mad Titan sent the Chitauri after all... He seems to have made a habit out of ransacking vaults."

The realization that Tylock had arranged a deal with the Mad Titan was surprising. But it was not difficult to believe. In the wake of the Dark Elves' failure, it was no stretch of imagination to think that the Mad Titan had turned to the Light Elves. There had been unrest in Alfheim, and it would not have required much effort on the Titan's part to incite a war. If the Dark Elves were little more than a trial, perhaps he wished for a genuine conflict between the Light Elves and the Asgardians.

"The secrets buried within this incident are not our only concern." Lord Meyrick spoke for the first time since my arrival, his hands folded within his sleeves. "The Chitauri who laid siege to the palace were but a fraction of their true numbers. I have managed to track their movements, and I have seen them departing from our world. They use these... leviathans to transport them through deep space."

"And yet, when I sent my scouts earlier this morning, they discovered a dozen Chitauri on the fringes of our peninsula," Faradei said, pivoting on his heel to deposit his crown on the post that jutted from the back of the throne. "They seemed to be waiting for something, but my scouts weren't willing to risk finding out what that was. Thus, they felled our enemy where they stood."

"I had asked that Azarik go along with them," Meyrick added. "He believes they were waiting at a passageway. The magic is weak, but he suspects the path leads to Midgard."

My heartbeat faltered. "The Chitauri intended to venture to Midgard? For what, exactly?"

Meyrick's brow wrinkled. "Even I do not know. With so few numbers, it is likely they sought to converge with their host on the other side."

A breath of sardonic laughter passed through my lips before I even realized it. "Who would have thought we required the Chitauri to find a path to Midgard."

"I would have found it eventually," Meyrick chided lightly, "that I swear to you."

Deep in grave thought, Faradei descended the steps leading down from the throne. "How many would we be able to send through the passage? A dozen? Maybe more?"

All lightheartedness was quick to evaporate as Meyrick shook his head. "I may have been able to send several, but no longer. Old age has weakened my form, and I cannot convey the magic I once did."

In the span of a heartbeat, I knew what I had to do. A sudden tempest churned within me, but I did not let it hinder my resolve. The Chitauri were venturing further into the Nine Realms. This wasn't just about Alfheim and the Light Elves. And, with the Bifrost gone, something had to be done. "But I can." I held up my crystal for them to see. "I might not have enough power on my own, but with you and your apprentices, I would have enough strength to convey myself."

Meyrick seemed skeptical, but I refuted him before he could voice his dissent, "I have studied the magic for over a year. It was never a lack of understanding that hindered us. It was our inability to find a passage. And now that we've found one, I can go to Midgard."

Frowning, Faradei shook his head. "You would go alone?"

"If those Chitauri meant to convene with their company on the other side, I can only assume they intend to unleash their might on Midgard. We must warn them." My pulse quickened, the rush of blood thundering in my ears. "And I will not let Castien's killers escape unpunished. I would know who did this."

Meyrick moved closer to grasp both my arms with his aged, wrinkled hands. "You would wander into a realm of which you know nothing to chase those who took Castien's life? What is to stop them from taking yours? They are far stronger than you, with their numbers and their weapons."

"I... I know." A pang tore through my heart; I had many reasons to go to Midgard, not all of which I wished to utter here and now. But I would express to them one truth, something I'd carried with me since the Chitauri attacked. "I owe Castien this... this justice." With watery eyes, I glanced from Meyrick to Faradei. "Am I not in part responsible for his death? I let him die. I did as he bid me—I knew I was letting him go to his death, but I let him go regardless."

Shoulders slackening, Faradei looked upon me with a gentle expression. "Do not blame yourself," he said. "Castien was always stubborn. He would have done the same, had you intervened."

With a sigh, Meyrick clutched onto my arms a little tighter. "You needn't risk your life to make amends."

"I do not mean to put myself at risk," I told him. "I only do what needs to be done." Swallowing, I cast a look at Faradei. "And I just want some answers."

"What will you do if you find them?" Faradei asked. "There may be no way back."

I curled my quaking hands around my midsection and shrugged in a show of nonchalance. "I know not. Perhaps I will inform Heimdall. That may be the best I can do."

Meyrick and Faradei shared a glance, but I pressed on, "The mortals deserve a warning. There is no knowing what the Chitauri intend, but the humans must be told of the threat that stands on their borders. Even if they cannot defend themselves from this army, they must be informed without any further delay."

There was a reluctance in Faradei. He lowered his eyes, brow furrowed, but he did not dispute my choice. "If Midgard is to be the Titan's next quarry, then you must help the mortals in any way you can. Stay on Midgard, and mayhap the Asgardians will come to your aid... though there is no knowing how long that might be."

I took in a deep, shuddering breath, but I nodded all the same. "I shall do all I am capable of."

With a sigh, Meyrick let his arms fall to his sides. "I will worry about you." The corners of his eyes crinkled. "You would let an old man worry about his apprentice?"

"Former apprentice," I rejoined with a minuscule smile. Still, his concern moved me, made me think twice. No, this is for the best, I assured myself. Someone had to go to Midgard, warn the mortals, seek the truth. And it had to be me.

Meyrick patted my cheek. "I will call upon you midday tomorrow. When the sun is high, we shall send you on your way."

Plodding down the deep blue carpet, Lord Meyrick took his leave.

In the quietude of the throne room, I turned to face Faradei. He slumped into the throne, the large oaken chair seeming much too large for him. "I must admit... I would have Castien's death avenged," he said, his voice hushed. "Though I do not think it an option, I would have it if I could. Would you not?"

"I seek only to remedy a wrong," I replied. It was not entirely the truth. I did want revenge. I wanted those who brought death upon our world to pay dearly. But something stopped me from admitting it. Vengeance is not an honourable undertaking, my father would have said. "Justice shall be served, that is all I desire."

He gave me a wry look. "The noble words of a Vanir." His body sagged with a tiredness, and he leaned an elbow on one armrest. "Castien would have sought the same had it... had our roles been reversed. He was always so decisive, so used to getting his way."

The day of his death flickered through my mind. The bloodshed. The fear. I mused on how determined Castien was to do everything in his power to stop the Chitauri. He brooked no argument from me, even at the cost of his own life.

"He once told me that he felt he was wronging you," Faradei said. I looked up in surprise while he continued. "By being with Driana, he thought it was unfair to you."

A short breath escaped me. "But I am glad he found happiness with her. My circumstance was not his fault."

"Yet he yearned for your happiness." He leaned forwards a little, his arms crossed. "He knew you never let go of Prince Loki, as much as you tried to pretend that you had."

I fought against the tears the threatened to rise. "Faradei, why are you telling me this?"

"You are going to Midgard. Did you not mean to search for Prince Loki there?"

My stomach twisted at that. "Yes, I did. But that is of little consequence now..."

"Not if you fulfill your quest first," he said. "When all is done, seek him out. Castien would have wanted you to."

Lowering my head, I managed a small smile. "Well, if Castien wished it, then I suppose I must."

He smiled in return. "Like I said, he was always used to getting his way."

Later in the day, when evenfall descended on Alfheim, I made another attempt to visit Driana. She'd taken to locking herself in her bedchamber again in the wake of the funeral, though she'd been more receptive to food, for which I was thankful. I clutched Castien's ornate box close to my chest and knocked on her door. Arlessa stood at my side, a tray of stew and biscuits balanced between her hands.

Driana's voice came drifting through. "I have had my fill of food for the day. Please, leave me be."

I looked to Arlessa before placing the box beside the bowl of stew and taking the tray from her. I nodded in dismissal and watched her go. With a deep breath, I leaned closer to the door. "Driana, it's me," I said. "I am leaving on the morrow, and this may well be the last opportunity I have to speak with you."

There was a moment of silence, and I feared she would not heed my words. But then I heard the click of a latch being undone. The door opened slowly to reveal Driana, the once glowing Light Elf nothing but a shade of what she had once been. She glanced down at the tray in my hands, then stood back to allow my entrance.

I strode inside, making my way to the couch and placing the tray atop the squat table that sat in front of it. I saw that the curtains were drawn closed on the balcony windows, the flames in the fireplace barely more than a smouldering ruin. Her bedclothes were rumpled, and I had the sense that she'd been tossing and turning these past few nights. After all, I did my fair share of tossing and turning in the dark hours.

After shutting the door, she eased herself onto the couch. I took my place beside her, my fingers digging into the velvet cushion beneath my thighs. When she made no move to touch the food, I snatched up a biscuit and nibbled on it in the hopes that it would compel her to eat. She did nothing other than stare at the box I'd set next to the bowl of stew.

Her words were faint when she spoke at last, "You are leaving?"

Wetting my dry lips, I placed the remains of my biscuit back on the plate. "Yes, on the morrow." I gripped my hands in my lap, twisting my fingers together. "I am to travel to Midgard in the hopes of discovering who sent the Chitauri here. It is suspected that Midgard is their next destination."

She stayed silent thereafter, peering down at the box still.

I held it aloft and opened the lid before offering it to her. "This was Castien's. There is a letter inside addressed to you." She took the small chest and rifled gently through the items, a slight smile tugging at her mouth. It was a pleasant sight to see.

Her brow dipped when she observed the glass-encased amber crystal. Even so, she ran her fingers over the smooth surface with what seemed like reverence. Closing her hands over the gemstone, she raised her head to meet my gaze. "There is something I must tell you, Eirlys," she said. I shifted in my seat and sat a little straighter upon sensing her sudden unease. "I am with child."

My heart near stopped. "You are with child?" I pressed a hand to my mouth, eyes growing wide. "Did... did Castien know?"

"Yes." She bowed her head. "I think perhaps that might have been the reason why he was so willing to sacrifice himself for the safety of our people."

I remembered what Castien said to me shortly before he died, I vowed to keep her safe. He would've done anything to protect her and their child. There was no stopping him, no taking his place. "He wanted to ensure no harm came to you. To either of you." I let out a quaking breath and ran a hand over my eyes to keep the tears at bay. "Norns, I hadn't even the slightest inkling..."

"He wasn't quite sure how to tell you," Driana murmured. "I wasn't quite sure how to tell you either, and that is why I have taken to locking myself in here—I feared someone else would discover the truth. He was afraid of the damage this knowledge would beget. He wanted to decide what to do before telling you."

Nodding, I reached out to grasp her hand. "And perhaps he was right—to keep this secret, that is. Faradei is king now, but that does not mean he holds the loyalty of all. I fear there are those who would seek to take advantage." My regard flickered to the door before returning to her. "I think it may be best that few know of your child."

"Castien thought much the same."

"We will have to tell Faradei. He will help you." I let my shoulders fall. I did not think she was safe here, in the palace. And Castien had asked me to keep his family safe. "Perhaps you can go to the cottage we visited. You remember, the one by the lake." Some of the light returned to her at the mention of it. "It'll be warm there, warmer than here, at least. I can ask Lord Meyrick and his apprentices to accompany you. They will protect you. My ladies-in-waiting will go with you, as will Arlessa."

"My lady, you are too kind," she said.

My chest ached as I fought the tears that stood on the brink of spilling over. "My ladies-in-waiting should have been yours from the beginning. You should've been the one to wear that crown, share all his worldly possessions, bear his children. You should've been the one to marry him. You meant everything to him."

Tears began streaming down her cheeks anew. Running a hand through my hair, I berated myself for sayings such things—all the things she should have had, but never could. With a murmured apology, I brought her into my arms, holding her while she wept for everything we lost. For the father her child would never know. As I sat there, silent, I made a vow. I vowed I would uncover the root of this turmoil. And I would avenge Castien's death.

That night, sleep was scarce, but it was dreamless.

When I arose, I was up before the sun. I meandered onto the veranda, snow crunching beneath my boots, and awaited the light of day. In the dead of night, the lands were silent. All creatures had migrated away or gone into hibernation. Sometimes I wished I could do the same.

I turned from the sight only when Arlessa entered my bedchamber, solemn and quiet. She helped me into my gear: breastplate, bracers, and leather trousers. They'd been scratched and worn long before Sif had given them to me. Now, they did not even shine. Now, the armour bore none of its magnificence. It was all dented and marred, having seen one too many battles. But it was all I had left.

Once dressed, my handmaiden set me before the vanity table. Staring into the mirror, I touched the green crystal at my collarbone to ensure it was there and that it would remain so. I watched as Arlessa braided the hair at my temples before plaiting them together down my back; it was the manner in which the Light Elf warriors wore their hair.

"Arlessa, I wish to thank you."

Her fingers slowed, and she peered at me through the mirror. "You needn't thank me, my lady. I have always been your handmaiden and nothing more."

"You are being too humble. Whatever happened to my floundering without you?" I remarked with a dry smile.

In turn, a smile tugged at her mouth, but it never fully formed. "At times I forget that you are no longer the little girl I once knew." She plucked up a malleable golden loop and used it to secure my hair. "I remember when I first became your handmaiden. Your mother had just passed, and you were so afraid. So alone."

"But then I had you."

"Yes, and now you are no longer that little girl." Leaning down, she placed her hands on my shoulders and admired her handiwork in the mirror. "You have changed much, my lady. You are no longer afraid."

My smiled widened, and I patted her hand. As much as I appreciated her sentiment, she was wrong about one thing: I was afraid.

Once Arlessa parted from my company, I went about filling a small pack with essentials: food for several days, a waterskin, my sword-cleaning kit. I even made sure to bring several non-essentials, knowing that I ran the risk of never finding a way back to Alfheim. Among them was Loki's journal, the one filled more with his thoughts than actual academic notes—to me, it was a part of him, and I kept it close as often as I could.

As the noon hour neared, I gathered my ladies-in-waiting in our oft-occupied parlour. I explained to them everything that concerned my undertaking in Midgard. Some were surprised, though most were quick to understand. At Driana's behest, I also informed them of her pregnancy and my wish for them to accompany her henceforth; none of them seemed surprised by the news after what they'd witnessed at the funeral.

We exchanged our farewells. When the time came for me to take the pathway to Midgard, I would have to rely heavily on Meyrick's power to cast the spell. Though I'd grown in power in seventy years of practice, I was not strong enough to employ such a spell on my own. I was prepared to travel to Midgard with no way back, something I saw fit not to mention to my ladies-in-waiting.

At midday, Meyrick came to collect me, attended by both Azarik and Valdarr; I was glad to see both apprentices had fared well since the siege. I followed them down the corridors and the winding stairs of the palace. The entrance hall was still very badly damaged when we stepped inside. Seeing it for the first time since the attack brought back a flood of horrible memories.

Atop the remains of the broken gates, Faradei awaited us. He gazed upon me with such gravity, it made my chest ache. "Find he who commands the Chitauri." Somehow, he sounded a little more like the king he now was. And I would not hesitate to follow his command. "Bring Castien justice. I would have you avenge him if you can."

I nodded and, after a moment, drew him into a hug. "You have my word, Faradei."

With Azarik in the lead, we four sorcerers trekked the vast wintery lands of Alfheim. It was quite a struggle without the aid of our steeds, but we knew horses would not be able to brave the snows. Nevertheless, it seemed the Norns favoured us this day, for the wind was but a sigh and the climate was no more than a trifling matter.

We travelled through a mountain pass, one not often traversed. On the opposite side was the furthermost point of the peninsula—a rocky, unpleasant spit of land—and at the very edge of it, there was a small stretch of terrain one could only reach when the tide was out. That was where the Chitauri had been discovered. It wasn't easy for Meyrick to tread at his age, and it was no surprise he hadn't dared to search this area in his attempt to find passage to Midgard. But with Valdarr at his side, practically carrying him, he did not suffer any falls.

The site where the scouts found and killed the Chitauri was unmistakeable, even to my untrained eyes. They must have huddled together, creating a trough in the snow. As we came upon the camp, I could feel the hum of the hidden passage, just as I felt it by the river in Asgard where I first made Meyrick's acquaintance. At the time, I knew nothing of such magic, the very magic that operated the Bifrost. But now, after decades of study and a year of learning from Loki's journals, I was confident that I could wield it myself.

The thought that this could be the last time I saw Meyrick, the last time I would stand upon Alfheim, made me tremble. Despite the lamentable circumstances that brought me to the realm, it was a home to me. I worried for my ladies-in-waiting. I worried for Driana. Most of all, I worried for Faradei, who had just inherited the throne in the wake of such grief.

"Do not fret, my dear," Meyrick said. He embraced me for what might have been the last time. "Our paths may yet cross again."

I gave him a wavering smile before turning to Azarik and Valdarr. "Take care of Lord Meyrick. He grows older by the day, in spite of what he pretends."

Valdarr chuckled, especially when Meyrick made to protest. "I will ensure he does not embark on foolish ventures."

Inhaling deeply, I adjusted the crystal so that it rested against my skin. When I upturned my palm, the three of them laid their hands upon mine. Then I closed my eyes and felt that push and pull. It was different, absorbing power from several at once as opposed to one. I grasped only their energy, but sensed not their life force.

I raised my free hand, fingers quaking, and cast the spell. I could sense the link between worlds opening slowly, almost reluctantly. The connection was not strong, but it was enough for me to travel by.

Meeting Meyrick's gaze, I gave him a final nod and stepped sideways into the otherwise imperceptible passageway.

The world fell away from my feet before I felt a sharp tug, not unlike that which I felt while travelling by the Bifrost. Everything blurred, and then I was shooting through space, past the stars and all the worlds. Terror gripped me when all grew dark. I could no longer account for my condition or my location. In that moment, I feared I had flung myself into the vast blackness, never to escape, never to be found. But my vision soon returned to me, and I found myself being slammed into the ground.

When I came to, I was lying flat on my back, blinking up at a blue sky. Little puffs of white clouds meandered by, peaceful and undisturbed. A cough wracked my body. Waving my hand to disperse the sand I seemed to have churned, I eased into an upright position. I was in an arid land, so it appeared. Arid land on Midgard, I hope.

As the dirt gradually settled, I climbed to my feet with careful movements. Turning in place, I stared, wide eyed, at two women who had been watching me the entire time. One of them, a brunette, all but gaped while the cup she'd been holding fell from her hands. The dark liquid spilled across the ground as her companion said, "That... doesn't look like Thor."

Author's Note: Tadaa! She's made it to Midgard at last.

I'd just like to express my gratitude to everyone who reviewed. Normally, I would've replied to you all in the form of a PM, but I didn't have the opportunity this past week. So, thank you. Thanks also to everyone who favourited and followed, as well as to my awesome beta, Hr'awkryn.

The chapter title comes from a track of the same name on the Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe soundtrack.

Please leave a review! It's always lovely to hear from you all.