Thanks for the reviews, Forbidden Moons! I did base her slightly on the Greenseers from ASOIAF, and here is the update you asked for. Enjoy!
Xx
"So, how do I return? I cannot enter through the Bifrost – I will be seen!" I say, my initial anxiousness forgotten.
"No, you cannot," Loki replies, his tone suddenly business-like "but there are other ways." He turns, and walks into the darkness. I follow, unsure of what I will find. To my eyes there is nothing, but even in my exile I know of Loki's reputation; his ability to conjure tricks from thin air, and much more. Without warning, he drops the tall golden staff to the floor, which lets out a resonating clash that seems to shake my very being. I look away and shake my head, trying to regain my stability, and when I look ahead again I see how I will return. A gilded boat of Asgard, capable of drifting through air just as it would through water, was waiting for us. The last time I had travelled in such a craft was when my family and I were being taken from our home to face justice in the halls of the All-father. I had crouched in my mother's arms, unaware of what they would do to her when we arrived. But then I was a child. Now, I am older and wiser. But my king is older still. He sees my face change when I set my eyes on the craft, and knows what I feel.
"That time is past, child," he says, his voice soft, almost close to soothing.
"I am no child!" I spit back defensively, and I climb into the boat. He steps in behind, puts down his staff and takes the boat to the air. Before I know it, we race off into the darkness. I can feel the movement as my black hair streams behind me, but I cannot see it. The darkness is constant. Or so I thought, as light appears either side of the craft, slowly engulfing us. I close my eyes; it's blinding, the light mixed in with the wind in my eyes. When I open them again, we are over open water, and looming before us is the great palace of Asgard. I hate the place, but its beauty still takes my breath away. With grand towers and gleaming walkways, it's a world away from the desert planet I was confined to. More than a world away.
"How will we get to the palace unseen?" I shout, over the roaring wind.
"The guards only look where they are told to look," replies Loki, "and they are not told to look this way!" I hear pangs of glee in his voice as he swings the craft round under the bridge from the Bifrost. It occurs to me that when Asgard was first created, secret tunnels and passages must've been made for the residents to cower in if an attack was launched. So therefore, there must be entrances into the palace that have not been discovered by the guards. I am proved right when we fly through a seemingly normal crack in the stone and stop in a hollowed out chasm directly below the great hall of Asgard.
I clamber gracelessly out, my legs shaking from the exhilaration of the trip. I see a small smile on my king's face as he steps out after me.
"And what now?" I ask.
"Now we need to find you some suitable attire. As advisor to the king and heir to your father's titles, you no longer deserve to look like a common prisoner."
"Indeed," I say. I look down at myself; my black and purple tunic is ripped and torn, my breeches dusty. My boots are worn and my leather jerkin is falling to pieces. And my hair, once sleek and flowing like a waterfall, has become a tangled black mane.
Loki indicates for me to follow him, and I do so. As we travel, the corridors become slowly grander, and before long we are striding through the palace itself. No guards appear, but I can't help feeling nervous. Every shadow becomes a hiding soldier, and every movement becomes a palace guard. I have never been so on edge.
We turn down a smaller but still grand corridor, and stop at a tapestry. It depicts a great battle between an old Asgardian king and the Dark Elves. It is immaculately stitched, but before I can pick out any details, Loki sweeps it aside to reveal another door. I can't help but smirk at how obvious some of these hiding places are. I push open the door, and stand in a small, dusty room, with nothing in it apart from a rotting oaken chair, upon which lay garments. I walk further in, and Loki does not follow.
"When you are suitably dressed, meet me in the main hall. You know how to get there, I trust?" he asks. I nod, and close the door behind me. Looking back to the clothes on the chair, I see that they are almost identical to what I am already wearing; a black and purple tunic with long sleeves and a skirt that ends just above my knees, a hardened leather waistcoat, black breeches and black boots. Accompanying them are black leather arm guards that match my jerkin, and a circlet that lies on my brow and keeps my long hair out of my eyes. It all seems average, but looking closer I see that it is far from that. Anything but that. Silver threads run in spirals all over the fabric of the shirt, and within the leather of the jerkin and armguards there is fortified armour plating. Hidden beneath the grandeur of the clothing of an Asgardian princess, there is everything I need as a warrior. I smile to myself as I pull on my new garments. I feel so alive, so fresh. When I pick up my armguards, I notice another detail; pockets, in which lie many silver blades. I pull one out and lay it on my palm. It's a perfect circle, thin and light with a razor sharp edge. I can feel the strength in it. I hold it in my fingertips, studying it, and then flick my wrist, letting it fly through the air, before it embeds itself deep in the wood of the chair. If the chair had been a person, it would've cut straight through to the bone. I return the blade to its pouch in my armguard, and walk briskly from the room.
Despite not being here in over 500 years, I still know my way around the palace. There is a map of it lodged in my mind that I will never be rid of. I detest being here, and yet I focus my mind in putting one foot in front of the other, and getting to the hall. However, this is a flawed plan, as I do not see the patrol heading my way until they nearly lay eyes on me. I leap behind a convenient column and transform myself into a young male guard. Another of my tricks that has been useful, I note. I wait until the patrol passes, and return to my natural form. I do not encounter anyone else until I reach the hall itself. I turn a corner into it, and stop dead.