Chapter Seven – Losing Sight

A/N: Another chapter with a few changes of perspective within! This chapter starts off with Ilmr, switches to Loki and back to Ilmr. As before, a double page break will indicate a change in perspective. That seemed to work well last time (I think). We see a little of Odin/Loki in this chapter, which is interesting for Ilmr, who hasn't seen them one-on-one before. How is everyone feeling about chapter length, by the way; too long, too short, just right? I try to make breaks where they make the most sense, but I wonder if sometimes they're a bit long. Anyway, the lyrics in this chapter are from Cake's "Shadow Stabbing".

I'm so nervous
I'm so tense
My heart can't forget about this self-defense

Anleifr had taught her everything she needed to know about battle, about strategy and cool-headedness. He had taught her about iron.

She had been in her teens at the time and instead of sparring as was their routine, he took her to a smithee and watched as she grew nauseous, lightheaded, and weak.

"What's happening, Leifr?" She had done her best to keep her voice calm. She did not think she succeeded particularly well.

Anleifr looked slightly green as well. "It is iron, Ilmr. It is one of the few vulnerabilities of the elven races. As half-elven, it doesn't affect us quite as much as it would Mother. But you must remember to be careful. You will encounter many an enemy with iron weapons in battle. You will need to ignore this nausea. It will not kill you, if it were to pierce your skin as it likely would if we were elven through and through, but it will be an unimaginable pain, it will be slow to heal. It will scar."

She nodded. "I didn't realize it would affect us so."

He hummed, leading her back out of the building. "No, Mother and Father wouldn't have told you, not yet. But you need to know, the sooner the better."

And in Nidavelir as they fought with the trolls, one of them nicked her. She had been careful, so careful. Her ears were her advantage, as she took after her Vanirian father rather than her elven mother. An enemy would not know immediately one of her few weaknesses. The trolls discovered it.

It was a glance of his scimitar off her side as she whirled and her armor shifted; the Asgardian chest plate never fitting as snugly as her own she had brought to Asgard, especially not once it was slick with sweat. It was not a particularly deep blow, but it was enough. She sucked in a harsh breath through her teeth, needing half a moment to right herself as her vision swam. It was all the creature had needed.

Between the various campaigns she and Njordr had led, they learned many languages and those they did not, they knew at least the most pertinent words and phrases. The rock trolls did not have a language necessarily, but they communicated with a series of sounds and motions in the same way one would a spoken language.

The sound that the one who cut her took up, that was passed along through his surrounding compatriots, was one she and Njordr had long ago committed to memory. It was a low, loud sound of scraping gravel that travelled farther than one would suspect. Elf, they had alerted one another. She is an elf.

They had sought to overpower at least one of the group easily, then; likely they had hoped for more than one, given their discovery of her heritage despite her appearance.

Loki came to her aid, though he did not realize how much she had needed it. He was bored, most likely, as they were hesitant to approach him after he crumbled half a dozen with one blast of his sorcery.

The bleeding did not staunch, but she would not have bled out, not for many hours, perhaps days. She was glad of her dark armor. Once the Cailean hound that had been chasing them was distracted and they were upon the Bifrost, her body flooded with searing pain. Without survival as a focal point, remaining upright was a battle she fought with each breath.

Loki had taken her hand to signal that he was with them though cloaked in invisibility, but she used him to her own ends, gripping his hand as hard as she could. Even once they had returned to Asgard, she would not let go. It was the anchor by which she remained standing.

No matter what the others might have thought, what Loki might have thought, she kept a vice grip on his hand until they reached the palace again. Ilmr nearly tore her hand from his once inside the gates, heading for the healing rooms as quickly as she could without calling attention to her destination.

It was several hours later when she stepped into the hall headed for her chambers. Given another comfrey-scented draught, she was bandaged after a salve was applied that stung almost as much as the feel of iron cutting into her skin. She had been sent on her way with a small jar of the salve and instructions to wash the wound and bandage daily. It would likely be a fortnight, she had been told, before it was fully healed. There was nothing they could do for the scar it would earn her.

"Where were you?"

Ilmr nearly jumped at his voice, as he had been sitting stock-still on the settee behind her door.

"Loki." She put a hand to her chest as if to calm her heart.

He furrowed his brow. "And you are not wearing your armor, but it is not here."

"It is being sent to me in the morning, I did not wish to carry it." She also did not wish to talk about where she was.

"Where is it being sent from?"

Scratching under Vidar's chin, she sighed. "I am exhausted and don't wish to talk, Loki."

That was apparently not good enough, as before she knew it, he was in front of her, between she and Vidar, and Vidar was growling low. "Where?"

There was something in his eyes, then: anger, jealousy, perhaps even concern. She did not care for any of it. "Not here."

She moved past him, teeth clenched, heading for her privacy screen to change into a night shift. He let out a frustrated sound from the spot she had left him in.

Carefully tugging her tunic over her head, she shook her hair out. And jumped. There was a hand at her side and she clutched her tunic to her chest.

"By Odin, Loki!" She pushed against his chest to move him away, only succeeding in shifting him half a step. "I don't care if you are courting me, this is not acceptable."

"What is this?" His voice was dangerously low. It was glimpses like this that reminded Ilmr that she had just agreed to be courted by one of the most dangerous beings in the Nine Realms. She was reminded she should have been fearful of him, and that she wasn't meant she would likely meet an end that was less than desirable.

"It is a bandage." She attempted to ease his hand from her side but after a few moments without success she gave up, letting him rest his hand wherever he liked, provided she was allowed to lay down sooner rather than later, her knees felt all too shaky for her liking. "A mere graze, I assure you."

He watched her silently for several moments. "A mere graze that required a visit to the healing rooms that lasted several hours, that still has you weak on your feet."

Many forgot that he was the God of Lies not just because he told them, but because he was uncanny when it came to their detection. Sighing, Ilmr nodded. "It was no more than a mere graze to any of you. To me, though it was not especially deep, it was particularly problematic; their weap-"

"Iron."

Ilmr nodded. "Even so." Loki tugged the tunic out of her grasp and she flung her hands over her chest. "What in the Nine-"

"Let me see."

His tone stopped her. His voice was flush with anger, but there was an undercurrent of something else that she could only call concern though she knew better. She knew that was not the right word.

Shifting her elbows up but keeping her arms crossed above her chest, she turned to the side so he could better inspect the wound. Carefully unwrapping the bandage, he took stock of the injury that showed through the salve that had not yet sunk into her skin.

"That is no graze, it should have nearly killed you."

Her skin had been stitched together and though the salve stung viciously, it had begun to clot the blood flow. The skin around it was angry and inflamed, making it look far worse than it should have. She wanted desperately to cover it again, to sit down.

"I am half elven, Loki. If I were one of my mother's full-blooded kin, it may have. As it is, I would like to have a lay down, once you are finished inspecting the injury to your contentment."

He ignored her. "Why did you not say anything? Thor would have turned immediately towards the Bifrost without half of the fig-"

"He would have turned and he and Fandral would have argued over who carried me back so that they could feel bolstered by their own chivalry! Not only did I manage, it would have gone unnoticed entirely had you not-…what are you doing here?"

Again, he seemed to ignore her, winding the bandage back around her middle. "They would not have had the opportunity to argue over it; oafish and graceless the both of them. They would not have been allowed to assist you, they would have left you worse for the wear."

Ilmr could not help but smile. "I don't believe Sif would have managed under my weight, strong though she is."

He held her nightdress to her. "Don't be daft." Tucking the corner of the bandage end into the layers, he smirked. "And you do not seem like one to be unnerved so easily; I could not imagine what had you so spooked as to require my hand the entire way from the observatory to the palace, so I came investigating."

"Now you know." She tugged the nightdress over her head quickly but carefully and pulled on a light dressing robe over it.

"You will tell me, next time."

Ilmr raised an eyebrow. His desire to court her aside, his concern -because that was the only word she had for it- was suspect.

"You act as though this has never happened before. I have returned home every time before, including this time, without issue or indeed any indication to my company that I was injured in such a way. I do not see why I would need to say anything."

"You will tell me." His tone, low and quiet, was not unlike the one he used when she had dragged her teeth over just the right spot on his throat, except this was edged with metal instead of lust.

"I will tell you, if I judge it worth revealing."

Something flashed in his eyes, his jaw clenched. He changed the subject, somewhat. "You have been so injured before?"

Ilmr lowered herself slowly to sit facing him on the settee, legs tucked underneath her. "When your enemy knows you arrive as part of a contingency sent from Egil of Vanaheim, it is a foregone conclusion that they will be sure to have at least some iron weapons."

"Many times?"

Shrugging off one arm of the robe to reveal the long pink scar that began just below her elbow and ran up to her shoulder that she had shown him part of before. "A few times; I have been Commander for two hundred years and I've fought in battle for six hundred. To think I have not felt the sting of iron before is absurd."

Loki waved a hand. "The others?"

"Aside from the one you inspected mere minutes ago?" She gave him a sly smile. "Those others you may have the fortune of seeing sometime, but we are far too early in our courtship for that now."

A wide, wolfish smile spread across his face, and Ilmr was reminded again that he was dangerous. It sent goosebumps up her spine. "You can still speak of them, can you not?"

"There is one along my leg, here," she swept a finger up the outside of her left leg from mid-thigh to just past her hip. "And there is another along my back, straight down from right shoulder to my waist. That one almost did kill me because of how deep it was, how close to my spine, though the iron of the weapon did not make it any easier to bear."

"When may I see them?"

Ilmr let out a breath of a laugh and then fixed him with a knowing look. It was a risk, but it was a calculated risk. "When I know exactly what you're playing at with me."

"I beg your pardon?" He sounded indignant and he straightened, moving his face close to hers in a way that made Ilmr assume he was trying to intimidate her. He would have, had the gesture not made her that much more sure that he had an ulterior motive.

"You may see the other scars when you tell me exactly why you're courting me. Why you care so much for my well-being."

"Do you think so little of me as to think I have no emotions save for rage?" He spat.

"I think you are damning yourself further, and I think that you have other emotions, but none that come about so quickly. And I think you want to lay with someone, though given your current endeavors, you need to wait until I wish to as well, and it's wearing on your nerves."

He laughed, then. She had not been expecting laughter. She had not been expecting him to crash his lips against hers, his tongue finding its way into her mouth and a hand holding against her jaw to keep her from moving. "Goodnight, Ilmr."

He stood and swept out of her room without another word. She sat contemplating him for so long that she was roused by Vidar's cold nose in the morning to find she had fallen asleep on her settee.


Predictably, Odin was displeased that his sons and their companions had stormed into Nidavelir without his express consent, but he was unable to hide his satisfaction with the result they had claimed.

"May we see your hound again, Ilmr?" Fandral had seated himself with Thor, Ilmr and Loki now that Odin had said his piece and left the banquet hall that morning.

"I am sure you will see him again in due time." She was loathe for many to spend too much time with Vidar; she did not want him to become overly familiar with too many. He was not wary or nervous around any, which is what she wanted. Familiarity she did not.

He frowned, shifting closer to her to speak quietly so that only she would hear. "Will you not accept any of my advances?"

She smiled as though he had said something else, replying just as quietly. "No, Fandral, I will not."

He huffed, but did not retreat. "And for what reason? I have been nothing but kind, friendly, welcoming - I have done nothing to offend you. Why?"

Ilmr opened her mouth to respond and felt a hand on her thigh on her other side.

"She will not accept advances." Loki hissed. Apparently, he had heard their conversation from his seat on Ilmr's other side.

Fandral glanced down to see Loki's hand resting high and familiarly on her thigh and sat back. "My apologies, I was not aware." He muttered, dejected.

Thor did not seem to notice, nor Sif, from their places opposite them at the table, engaged in conversation about their victory the day before.

"I wish to see you in my chambers after you are done with your meal."

Ilmr raised an eyebrow. She did not bother to meet his gaze as she spoke, keeping her voice low, opting instead to pay attention as she served herself a second helping. "Are you courting me, or have you decided I would be better as a servant?"

His hand was still on her thigh; he squeezed tightly and did not let go. "Please."

She nodded, only after which did he loosen his hold. He did not remove his hand until he took his leave a quarter of an hour later.

"Why did you not tell me?" Fandral was quiet.

"It is fledgling, Fandral. We do not wish to make any more formal or overt announcement as of yet. I apologize."

He gave her a smile. "If it should not be an arrangement that suits you..." his smile widened into the one that likely won him many a maiden's heart. "...please, inform me; I implore you."

She laughed. "You are ever determined." Moving her plate aside, she stood, laying a hand on his shoulder as she turned. "And I will, should that happen."


She opened the door only wide enough to slip in, knowing Fenrir would bound over to her when he spied her.

True to form, he was in front of her, his great head coming up just below her bust. "Fenrir, my little love." She cooed, scratching all over his head.

"Not quite so little." Loki was seated in a deep, plush armchair, book in hand and a smile on his face as he watched his hound enjoy her ministrations.

"I suppose not, though compared to Vidar, he is still a babe."

She seated herself across from him on a large couch, her back to the arm and a hand guarding her injured side so that Fenrir could climb up without injuring her further and seat himself in her lap as he usually would, if given the chance. He was as soft as he was large, and Ilmr knew he would be ferocious, when it came to protecting what he perceived now as his pack. Within the next year, they would need to begin bringing him along on short ventures to test his mettle and better prepare him for the heat of real battle.

Loki observed she and Fenrir for so long she nearly asked him what he had called her to his chambers for, in her growing impatience.

"The throne." He finally said, so quietly she thought for a moment she had misheard him.

"What? I don't-"

"You asked my real meaning behind courting you, my sudden concern. That is it."

"I don't see h-...you think me advantageous to you."

"Yes." He smiled wider. "Thor may be the favorite to become heir, but Odin cannot ignore my cunning and political knowledge, such that Thor does not possess. With you at my side, he could not deny me the throne, my equality to Thor, though he be favored. Between my skills and yours, he could not deny the better choice of leader and the woman he courts who will doubtless command Asgard's forces in less than a century for the bumbling oafishness of my brother."

Ilmr smiled wide. She swallowed the nerves she felt at revealing her hand in whole, but she had come to realize if she could not read his lies, she could tell his truths. "This is a better match than you may know. I told you I came here to make a place for myself, and I am. But as Commander of Asgard's forces, I plan to have a regiment devoted to the Cailean and handlers, which will be easy enough to procure considering our recent venture to Nidavelir. With you on the throne, it will be relatively easy for me to convince the King of Asgard of the Cailean's importance. And the importance of removing Cuyler from his position. He is wholly unsuited to it."

Loki laughed, standing in one fluid movement and striding over to where she had stretched, Fenrir's head laying against her stomach. He bent just as he took hold of the hair at the nape of her neck and pressed his lips against hers, hard and insistent, only pushing the kiss deeper when she opened her mouth further to return it.

Fenrir was gently nudged off of the couch and within moments Loki had taken his place, his knees on either side of her hips pinning her in place. She shifted, leaning up on her elbows to better meet him, inhaling the leather and musky scent of him as she dragged her lips along his jaw to his ear.

His hands gripped the back of her neck and her waist on her uninjured side hard feeling her take his lobe in her mouth. Before she could smile to herself against his skin she gasped; the low, quiet growl that issued from him stopping her.

His voice when he spoke was as quiet and dark as his eyes had been when, on nights past, they had found themselves in a similar position. "We will pay my mother and father a visit before the dinner hour today, to make a formal announcement of the courtship."

"And until then?" Her voice was low and heavy; the tone one she knew always seemed to send a pleasant, if subtle, jar through him.

In response, he ducked his head and paid the length of her throat the attention his mouth had previously given hers. Tilting her head further, she could only grip his bicep tight, almost letting out a sound at the strength there, indeed in his entire lithe form, as he settled so that he pressed her tight between himself and the cushions and paid little attention to aught else but her skin and mouth.

It was so difficult, more difficult than many things she had had to face in her life, to remember to keep her head. He was a clever wordsmith, the see-er and teller of lies, but she had never heard of this other truth of him: he could make her body betray her truths. That it would so easily give in where her mind tried not to; it took all of her effort to remain focused, despite his tongue laving at her throat, his teeth against her lips and the taste of his mouth in hers.

They may have had goals so similar it was prudent for a truthful courtship, and she was glad that they would not need to deceive each other of all of their plans, but she was not so foolish that she thought there would be no attempt at deception from him. She had to remain careful until she was sure she had him well in-hand.

She was still foolish enough, however, that when he finally, finally, brought his mouth back up to hers and kissed her full and deep and pressed himself down against her, as if she could not already feel him, she could not help but push her hips back up against his hard, enough so that they both felt the other loose a quiet sound into the kiss.


He had spent much of the morning with his mind buried inside layers of Ilmr's velvet and the sweet, vanilla scent of her. Once he was sure he had left her lips appropriately, subtly bruised and her skin faintly smelling of him, he let her see to Vidar while he looked after Fenrir and thought of what he would say to Frigga and Odin when he brought Ilmr to them later to formally announce their courtship.

He had to admit, even when his plans were half-formed they were usually superior. He had chosen well, in Ilmr. Not only her shrewdness and wit, or skill in battle, but her end-game was much the same as his and would lend itself well to the betterment of Asgard. The winning over a woman Odin would have undoubtedly thought good enough for only Thor would put Loki on more even ground with his brother.

He flipped through a book absently as he ran over his words in his head. It helped that she was rather beautiful. Odin, for all his wisdom, was still notoriously picky, looking down on many of the lovely women in court because they were not lovely enough.

Ilmr would be an exception, he knew. Slender and strong, she was not the delicate puff of femininity so many of the other women of court reminded him of. There was a delicate slope to her nose, the arch of her brow; yet she was capable of an expression so severe that he did not doubt she would have stood against Thor in Nidavelir without a second thought had Loki not stepped in. She kept her pin-straight, auburn hair longer than Sif's, just short enough that it would not be a hindrance in battle, but long enough that it was clear to Loki she had a mind to display both her femininity and her strength. He liked her lips overmuch, and –he closed his book with a snap.

He would be unprepared if he did not focus long enough to form the right words.


He had walked down to retrieve Ilmr shortly after he knew his mother would have taken tea. His attire, more formal than usual, consisted of black trousers and a deep green tunic. The black and gold leather chest plate of his armor had been buckled into place before his black greatcoat had been shrugged on. He was missing his heavier armor, but with this his parents would know it was more serious than a social visit before taking dinner.

Loki had been to Ilmr's chambers so often in the past three weeks, he had ceased knocking at least a week prior, perhaps before then. He wasn't sure, once he thought on it. Hearing his footfall, Ilmr turned in her seat in front of her vanity. She had likely heard his approach from down the hall, but had begun to humor him and appear as though she only knew of his presence once he was there.

She wore a deep green dress; she had not worn green once in the time she had been in Asgard, he realized. It was sleeveless and dipped just low enough that the graceful curve of her collarbone was visible, the swell of her breasts slightly more noticeable. He had not realized she was in possession of any jewelry, though as soon as he had the thought he realized it was foolish; she had just never worn it before, clearly not having seen a need. Earrings dangled just above her shoulders, violet gems held between the delicate twines. A necklace to match, though more intricate in the curving and twisting of the gold filigree, a large, multi-faceted violet gem hanging in the middle.

"This is appropriate of Asgardian custom, is it not? For the women to wear their chosen's colors for the formal announcement of courtship?" She was fussing with her hair still.

He nodded, realizing that he would need to focus on keeping himself single-minded. She had goals just as he did and he could not let himself get carried away with the sight and scent of her until he was sure he had her well in-hand.

"It is. You look lovely." He took her by her shoulders from where he stood behind her seat, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "You will do well for me."

She smirked raising an eyebrow as she watched him in the mirror. "Fortunately, you will suit me just fine, too." Raising her hands again, she fussed over her hair for another few minutes before she had it worked into an elegant coif, small braids woven through her hair and swept back into a twist held in place at the back of her head by two long, thin, emerald green hairpins, golden serpents winding up towards the tops as a nod to his armor. He wondered briefly where she had gotten them on such short notice, and then wondered how long she had been anticipating this meeting. A few thin pieces of hair fell to frame her face.

"Are you ready?" He offered his arm.

In response, she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, letting him lead her to the quarters of the King and Queen.

Several folk of the court had seen them in their journey, as had many of the servants and she had seemed just as serene and willing to lend a small smile as he was. Word would spread quickly, seemingly to both of their desire.

"Mother, Father." Loki greeted them both with a brief nod as he led Ilmr into their inner chamber.

Frigga stood to greet them both warmly, as was her wont. "My son." She kissed his cheek before turning to Ilmr. "Lady Ilmr." Loki watched Frigga's eyes glimmer as she took in the sight of them and what it likely meant before kissing Ilmr's cheek as well and giving her a light embrace that Ilmr happily returned. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Odin nodded to them, but said nothing and made no move other than to sit straighter in his chair, his book closed and resting on a knee.

Loki glanced briefly to Ilmr, resting his free hand over hers where she had returned it to his arm. "We come to announce to you formally our courtship. I have made my intentions known and the Lady Ilmr has accepted."

She smiled demurely, but before she could speak, Odin cut in. He was not wrong to call her shrewd. She had cut Odin off in the past but knew now to hold her tongue. A Commander indeed, she chose her battles well.

"And what are your intentions?" He was without preamble and as distant as ever. Loki kept from smirking at the scowl Frigga fixed her husband with if only because it was vitally important that Odin approve. Without his approval, there was little hope of their success.

Loki inclined his head slightly. "Should our courtship go well, and I believe it will, to take her to wife, father."

"And why do you believe this?"

He barely refrained from rolling his eyes. His father really would make him do this. So be it. "Aside from her quick wit and prowess on the field? She is one of the very few who sees my sorcery for what it is: a talent, and she is the only one to take it so seriously that she anticipates it when sparring. She was Commander in her father's kingdom, which I know you are aware of, and she is possessed not only of a title but of kindness and a great beauty." He left off any mention of grandsons, for now. Odin would deny them purely on the basis of being too heavy-handed and false.

He was quiet for many long moments before turning his singular gaze to Ilmr. "And you, my lady. You so quickly accept the advances of my second son?"

It sounded too close to an insult for Loki and he felt himself bristle inwardly, jaw working.

She smoothed her hand over his forearm, having felt him tense as she spoke. "I would, Allfather."

At the motion of his hand, she continued. "I do not need to inform you of his great intellect. The number of those who could match him in his talent could likely be counted on one hand. Few aside from Thor can match him in battle. But most of all, he kind. I could ask little more in a suitor or a husband."

"Kindness?" Odin sounded surprised. Loki felt the need to crack his jaw but refrained for the time being. Frigga seemed to be trying not to smile too wide.

Ilmr nodded, her tone resolute. "Yes, kindness. He takes the time to understand me and consider my opinion and sees me as an equal in the arena." She paused momentarily. "And he has made a point to be assured of my well-being when he has been concerned for it, whether or not I have indicated I was in need of attendance."

Odin raised an eyebrow, silent for a long while. To her credit, Ilmr did not budge or flinch under his gaze. Finally, Odin turned to his wife, who was fair quivering with anticipation. "What say you wife?"

She gave him a withering look. "I say, husband, that you are drawing this out unnecessarily and enjoying it too much. Send word to Egil of Vanaheim of this courtship and dismiss them so that they may continue on to the banquet hall and receive felicitations from their friends."

Odin cracked a brief smile that Loki was not entirely sure he wasn't imagining. His face darkened not a moment later, turning back to Loki and Ilmr. "I do not know that this is wise."

Her face was still a calm mask, but Loki felt Ilmr grip his arm the slightest bit harder. He kept his face impassive.

Frigga gave them an apologetic look, but her tone was icy. "Please, allow us a moment alone."

Nodding, Loki turned and led Ilmr out into the antechamber.

"Can you hear anything?"

Ilmr shook her head slightly. "No. Your mother must have enchanted the space so that I could not eavesdrop."

He let out a low growl. He felt her hands gently cup his neck, thumbs stroking his jaw that he realized he was clenching again. He was so surprised by the touch that he momentarily stilled.

"It will be alright, Loki."

He jerked away from her hold. "And how would you know?"

"I don't, but I don't believe we had Odin's blessing to travel to Nidavelir in either instance. I'm certain both you and Thor have spent much of your time asking for forgiveness instead of permission. His blessing make this easier, but it would not forbid us from consorting with one another."

He closed his eyes, not wanting to admit that she was right. He had a feeling her cool head would come in very useful.

She turned from him and he followed suit, only to see the doors to his parents inner chambers opening again, a smiling Frigga on the other side. "Please."

This time, Loki took Ilmr's hand, a gesture which didn't seem lost on Ilmr or his parents. "Yes?" He watched his father with a mixture of anticipation and annoyance.

"I will allow it." Odin gave them a tired smile, one that Loki had seen often enough to know that while he was the Allfather of the Nine Realms, Frigga was the true final say in their family, though Loki suspected Odin was loathe to admit it.

Ilmr tightened her hold of his hand and he returned the squeeze momentarily. Bowing, he felt Ilmr give a graceful curtsey in tandem. "Thank you, father."

"My deepest gratitude, Allfather." She gave Odin a genuine smile as she rose.

Loki turned to face Ilmr, a small, honest smile hovering on his lips. "Shall we?"

She nodded, allowing him to lead her out and to the banquet hall.


For all of his oafishness and his skill at ignoring or being blind to finer details, Thor smiled rather wide when he spotted his brother leading Ilmr into the hall, a hand over hers in the crook of his arm.

"Brother! Lady Ilmr!" He rose to embrace them both. Ilmr was happy to return the affection; Loki too allowed the closeness given the occasion. Thor was ever the competitor, but seemed genuinely pleased for his brother despite having fawned over Ilmr some when she had first arrived.

Thor looked between them as Loki stepped back to hold her chair for her. "You have just come from speaking with mother and father, have you not?"

Loki seated himself next to Ilmr, leaning over to murmur in her ear, "Do you think Fandral will be as pleased?", before looking back to his brother. "We have."

Thor smiled wider, looking quite pleased to see his brother appear so affectionate, not realizing it was no sweet nothing he had whispered. "Then I am well pleased for you." He looked to Ilmr then, his smile softening, but not fading. "I did not have to wait as long for this day as I had suspected, you have done my brother well since your arrival, Lady Ilmr."

Thor turned then, spying Sif and the Warriors Three and waving them over. For once, Loki was stunned to silence at Thor's words and a glance to Ilmr found her not quite so shocked, but certainly speechless. Seemingly without thinking, he watched her place her hand gently over his.

"Do you see the look on Fandral's face? He looks as though we're wed, not courting." Her voice was quiet in his ear, just an octave above her velvet.

Loki smirked. "Good."


Dinner that evening was an event unlike any she had been a part of before. Volstagg was jubilant when he approached the table and saw her in Loki's colors, her hand in his. The move had been as strategic as it had been unconscious. She hoped it would not become a habit, but she did not have much hope.

Hogun had merely nodded and smiled, his face a careful mask though it appeared a happy one. She could not deny her similar feeling; until word was received from her father in Vanaheim, it was fairly tentative and Hogun had the same thought she did: Egil was a fair man, but he was not necessarily kind. He could as easily send a missive allowing the courtship as he could one denying it.

Sif expressed her happiness, but her eyebrows and hairline nearly met, and Ilmr was not entirely convinced that she thought it was a good or lasting match. Fandral did his best not to sulk and he succeeded well enough for those who did not notice.

Loki noticed. She knew, not only in his many gestures and small touches throughout the evening that were meant to -and did- goad Fandral, but in his fervor when he returned her to her room after the meal. His hands gripped her harder, his mouth hasty and seeming to try to devour her mouth, her throat - any of her skin that was bare.

It sent shivers over her skin and she found herself returning his attentions to the same degree. She was not entirely sure either of them would remember to be guarded; at least, not behind closed doors.


It was three days before word returned from Vanaheim. A servant of Frigga's came to her door and bade her meet the Queen in her chambers. When she arrived, Loki was already there, a cup of tea in front of him untouched.

Seating herself beside him, she looked up to Frigga. "I assume this summons means you have heard from my father."

Frigga nodded. "Even so." She held the parchment to Ilmr.

Loki leaned over closer to her to read, his chin hovering just over her shoulder. She wasn't sure if the move was unconscious or strategic, but apparently Frigga had not yet shared the letter's contents with him.

Most Esteemed Allfather and My Lady Queen -

Salutations and my deepest gratitude for your missive. I am well pleased that Ilmr of Vanaheim has been a worthy ambassador of our realm.

I have, however, many reservations about the news of her courtship and wish to caution you. I do not know if she has shared with you the nature of our agreement; if she was able to claim a place in Asgard among it's warriors, and she has, she agreed to forsake much of her esteem in my kingdom. She may still have royal blood and indeed still be considered royalty, even here, she is nonetheless a Princess in exile, and I wonder at what your second-son may want in her.

If it is your will and with your blessing, I will not stand in the way of this, but I will say this: of all of my children, she has caused the most strife and discord, and I caution you to be wary of her.

If you so bless this folly, then my heartiest felicitations.

Egil

Ilmr felt her blood boil and she closed her eyes, handing the letter back to Frigga.

"Thank you." She steeled herself for the revocation of their approval. Her father was most adept at keeping her at arms length from her desires. He had disliked her her whole life, but Anleifr had been a buffer. Once he died, not only did her father place the blame squarely on her shoulders, he was not longer so covert and while she appreciated how much harder it pushed her, she did not appreciate the line he constantly crossed into downright sabotage.

Loki breathed out hard through his nose. "Surely you cannot think that anything but drivel, mother."

Ilmr glanced to him before looking to Frigga, who nodded. "I have yet to see anything resembling his words; I will not rescind my blessing. Nor will I let your father."

Loki visibly relaxed, finally lifting his tea and taking a long sip. He was more tense than she had thought he would be. And it was clear, now that Frigga had reassured them, that he was able to let go the nerves he had begun to fray since she called him to her chambers.


Courtship in Asgard was much different than Vanaheim, she knew. In Vanaheim, it was much more a casual affair that did not require a formal announcement unless a betrothal was forthcoming. In Asgard, it was much different and she was still adjusting, though she knew full well what she had agreed to. In Asgard, as much as trysts and dalliances were the norm, so too were the formal announcement of courtships, which were fairly akin to a betrothal; unless there were some egregious action or affair, it was standard, from what she knew, that an announced courtship would follow eventually into a betrothal and a marriage.

She thought, from time to time, that perhaps she had acted too rashly, too quickly. She had been in Asgard a month and already, as far as the members of the court were concerned, practically betrothed. It made her chest tight when she thought of it, panic clawing at her throat as she lay awake in bed some nights.

He was advantageous to her, a Prince of Asgard; skilled in battle and nigh unequaled in his sorcery. He was handsome and the smell and taste of him becoming so familiar. But still, she sat up many nights terrified that she acted too quickly. Anleifr would scold her, for behaving so. For not thinking through all possible ends more thoroughly. He would be disappointed.

And yet, perhaps not. Perhaps he would be proud of her, for finding one so skilled and intelligent. Someone so attentive and calculating, someone who could stand beside her, someone that could protect her, if she ever had a need of it.

Most of all, perhaps he would be glad for her, because she felt as though a smile came easier, because she felt a tension deep within her begin to ease.

That made the panic rise most of all.

If courtship in Asgard was almost always a sure lead-in to a betrothal, she would make sure it was no short lived period. She had already been foolish once and was still foolish; especially when he kissed her just right, moaned just so in her ear. She could not afford to be so foolish again.