In the following weeks, Weth continued to practice her newfound flame spell. She became quite skilled in controlling its shape and trajectory, and soon grew hungry to learn more. Her unsavory profession occupied only the evenings, so she made use of the daylight hours by studying her book of spells. She quickly learned to conjure water, and ice thereafter. As the elements appeared before her, she was reminded of Loki's ability to create a body duplicate. Her mind flashed to the evening in which he had made love to her from behind as she pleasured his replica with her mouth. To avoid sinking into melancholy, she channeled her emotion into her ice spell. Shards of ice, jagged and treacherous, soared across her tiny bedroom, impaling themselves in the wooden walls like daggers. She made a mental note to find a larger practicing space.
Weth's mental state suffered considerably. The thought of Loki's potential survival drove her mad. Of course, the idea itself did not cause her to fret—she would be elated if Loki had survived the fall—but the hazy circumstances surrounding the situation brought her great distress. He certainly was not in Asgard; though he would undoubtedly be punished for his actions as King, he maintained certain immunity as Prince. The Allfather would not sentence him to death. Where, then, could he be? Jotunheim had endured significant destruction under his reign; he would be a dolt to take refuge there. Weth could not imagine that he had made it to any other of the nine realms, and her mind struggled furiously to rationally concoct an explanation for his survival. She chided herself for foolish thinking.
After two solid days of lying in bed, chewing her nails, and passively wondering, Weth decided to take initiative on the matter. She needed to know the truth, so she formulated a plan. Though no palace staff had ever been fond of her—or even tolerated her—Weth knew that a coin purse full of silver could bend any laborer's will. Over the next few days, she raised her fee when collecting debts, and managed to accumulate more than enough silver to convince a simple guard. She chose to act on a breezy evening. With a pocketful of coins, she journeyed to the gates of Odin's palace. As was expected, two guards stood watch just outside the golden gate. She sauntered up to the more handsome of the two, and assumed a breathy, sensual tone.
"Now, why is a handsome man such as you spending this lovely evening on duty?" She idly wound her raven locks around her finger as she spoke. The guard seemed taken aback by her overt coquetry, and at first did not respond. Weth batted her eyelashes, consciously making an effort to appear desirable. Her stomach churned; she told herself that this nauseating display was all for a worthy cause.
"Well, my Lady," the guard returned, "a man such as I must serve to protect the palace, and lovely women such as yourself." His partner scoffed quietly. Weth ignored the queasiness sparked by his last comment, and maintained her composure; she needed to lure the guard away from his comrade in order to bribe him. She approached him, exaggerating the natural sway of her hips to pique his interest. His eyes locked on her hips as they moved.
"I am grateful to have such a strong, fetching man protecting me," she fed his ego, placing her hands on his chest, "but I would much rather have a man woo me tonight." His breathing hitched; she could tell that he was aroused.
"Woo you?" he countered, a bawdy smirk on his face. "Where shall I woo you, my Lady? Between my bed sheets, or in the forest just outside the palace walls?" Weth was disgusted by his unconcealed carnality, but tossed her hair with a girlish giggle.
"I believe the forest would be a lovely place to be wooed." She almost felt ashamed for her manipulative lies; perhaps she had learned more from Silvertongue than she originally thought. The guard took her hand and guided her along the palace wall, leading her towards the sparse beginnings of a forest. They soon found themselves in a thicket of trees. The guard turned to Weth, and crushed his lips against hers in an open-mouthed, slobbery kiss. She pushed against his chest, and he ceased his revolting assault on her mouth.
"Have I done something wrong?" His tone was bewildered and slightly defensive. Weth shook her head.
"I will not bed you," she stated, causing a look of puzzlement to cross his face, "I have a considerable amount of silver, and I would like to ask a favor of you." His brows knitted in confusion.
"What kind of favor would you ask of me?"
"I wish to know a piece of information," Weth had abandoned all flirtation; this was purely a business transaction.
"What information?" He returned, growing wise to her proposition.
"A funeral was held for a Prince nearly two years ago," she began, "I have heard talk that he lives. I need to know if this is a fact." The guard crossed his arms, and shifted his weight onto one leg.
"Why do you need to know this?" His eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"That is none of your concern," Weth retorted, crossing her arms as well.
"How much silver is the payment?" He cocked his head. Weth pulled out her coin purse and rattled it. The sound of coins jingling echoed throughout the thicket of trees. The guard stroked his chin.
"I will accept your offer," he stated after a moment. Weth sighed in relief. "However," he began, "I am risking a great deal to retrieve this information. I do not believe your payment is sufficient." Weth opened her mouth to dispute his claim, but he held up a hand. "I will do this favor for all of that silver—and a kiss." Weth scoffed.
"You kissed me not a moment ago," she argued.
"Yes," he replied, "but at that time I was under the impression that I would be taking you to bed. I have since given up hope of that happening, so I will accept a kiss as a substitute." Weth scowled. The guard raised his eyebrows defiantly.
"One kiss," she conceded. As his lips closed in on hers, she imagined Loki in his place. She desperately missed his touch, his voice, his body. When the guard was sated, he stepped back.
"I will take half of the silver now and half when I provide the information," he looked straight into Weth's eyes as she doled out the coins. "I am a man of my word."
"I agree to those terms," she returned. The guard turned and began to head out of the forest. "Meet me at the village tavern tomorrow evening!" she called after him. The guard turned back, nodded, and then left. As soon as he was out of sight, Weth began to furiously scrub her tongue with her palm.
