Once Loki recovered from the initial shock of seeing the palace in Alfheim's capital, he looked around slowly to gain some sense of the land. Princess Sigyn politely gave him time to take it in, and she watched him in understanding silence, mildly amused by his bewildered expression.

Loki had never seen anything like it in his life, not even on his expeditions to other realms. Where Asgard was a monument to its conquests, covered in glittering (and stolen) gold and a city built on flattened land, Alfheim's palace and rural sprawl were built into the land, working with its natural flora and topography to inspire architecture that looked as natural in the environment as the trees and mountains.

Thin pillars and a concave sloped roof as white and polished as bone sloped up to a grand spire in the center of the main chamber of the palace, the covered walkways circling around it boasting centuries-old stained glass; Loki could imagine the beautiful colors the glass would cast into the throne room when the sun was high. The stone walkway he and Sigyn had followed from the Bifrost landing site extended to the front door of the palace, forming more intricate patterns made of small and large stones the closer the pathway came to the palace itself. Loki pushed one of the stones beneath his leather boot and could feel how perfectly smooth it was, worn down like cobblestones by the thousands of travelers that came through here over the years.

Turning on his heels, Loki looked out to each side of the palace, taking special notice of the bridges that had been painstakingly fashioned over the process of what must have been centuries, out of the roots of the trees that grew in the wide river that cut through the land. The air was thick with the sound of the river's gently churning waters and the calls of the native insects and fauna that lived in the surrounding forest. This close to the water, Loki noticed a considerable reduction in the ambient temperature which made his breath condense just a bit in the midday air; it was a welcome change after spending centuries in Asgard's warmer climate. He suspected that the coming summer would be the mildest he had ever experienced, and perhaps he would be able to tolerate being outdoors. The thought made him smile.

Sigyn cleared her throat quietly. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Loki blinked, bringing his focus back to the matter at hand. "My apologies," he murmured, distracted. "It's just...wow." He chuckled, chastising himself for gawking like a fool in front of the Princess.

"Yeah, we get that a lot," she said, smiling softly. "But there's plenty of time to see the grounds and the Sanctum later. For now we need to go in and see my father, and get you settled in before the festival." Sigyn gestured with her head toward the palace doors and they moved on. As the pair approached, the dozen or so guards, some armed with longbows and others with spears as tall as they were, stood at attention until they saw the Princess, then they bowed low, and two opened the double doors for them.

Loki could hardly believe his eyes when they entered the palace - he had predicted accurately that the sun streaming through the painted glass windows turned light to art on the wooden floors and stone walls of the foyer and throne room. On the far end sat three thrones of equal size, fashioned out of sun-bleached driftwood from Alfheim's many beaches, situated at the top of a wooden platform with four steps leading up to it.

Seated in the center throne was the King of Alfheim himself. He was pointing around the room with animated excitement, directing the arrangement of decorations and placement of tables and seats for his guests visiting from other realms.

"Loki, my Prince, welcome to my humble Kingdom!" Frèyr stood and came down the steps with his arms held wide, and Sigyn embraced her father in a warm hug. Loki held out his hand in greeting and Frèyr took Loki's in both of his, squeezing them tight. "I trust there have been no problems thus far?"

"Not at all," Loki assured him. "Princess Sigyn was excellent company on the trip to the palace, and I was just admiring the architecture and the gardens before we came in." He smiled and gestured widely around the room. "My home is grand, yes, but its grandeur is seated in its garishness. Asgard's palace brags of its own wealth and success, but this… Alfheim's beauty is unrivaled, Your Majesty."

Frèyr bowed deeply to Loki in gratitude. "You flatter me, my Prince. I insist that you call me Frèyr while you stay with us; I may be the monarch of this realm but you are Prince of all of them. Please, follow me, and Sigyn and I will show you to your quarters so you can freshen up before the festival."

The King and princess led Loki through an adjoining corridor that stretched before the eye and almost appeared to be endless. Every few meters was another tall window that looked out to the castle grounds. The courtyard outside sloped down into the massive gardens, where the citizens were setting up preparations for the festival. There must have been thousands of people out there, putting up booths and tents, and assembling a large platform not unlike the one that housed the thrones in the front of the castle. Each door they passed Sigyn pointed to and informed Loki what its purpose was - the library is how big? - and about ten doors down Frèyr stopped to open a door made of a dark wood, its knob a polished gold apple. He stepped aside for Loki to go in.

Loki took a few steps into the room and was rendered temporarily speechless. It was decorated in lavish dark colors - his colors, black and green - and every stick of furniture looked as though its design had been plucked from his own mind. He turned on the spot slowly, admiring the way that even though the room was in dark colors, it was still warm and inviting. As his eyes explored the layout of the room, Loki noticed that the black color wasn't a solid black; golden vines and leaves were painted everywhere in a way that was pleasing to the eye, trailing up the wall and draping on the wooden furniture like natural vines would. The bed was a four-poster with sheer black drapes and soft green bedding, and in the corner next to it was an empty bookshelf that went up to the tall ceiling, and a large desk and comfortable studying chair. A padded bay window looked out to the river, the sound of its gurgling current a continuous and soothing background noise that Loki much preferred over the silence of the castle in Asgard. That window, he guessed, would soon be his favorite reading spot.

"Did… did you put this together for me?" Loki asked quietly.

Frèyr and Sigyn looked to each other and laughed. "Yes," Frèyr admitted. "When I came back after speaking to you and the King and Queen a few months ago, I wanted to set up a space for you that was based on your style and the way you had already set up your own bedroom in Asgard. We wanted you to feel at home here." He walked over to where Loki was frozen in the center of the bedroom and placed his hand on Loki's shoulder. "The thing about this room, which you'll discover soon enough, is that its design will reflect your needs. It's complicated magic, a little something that Sigyn's brilliant mother put together when she was young. Before we came in here it looked just like your old room, and I guess it knows now that you needed something that didn't remind you of home. Was it right?"

Loki lowered his eyes to the floor, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "I suppose it was," he confessed. It wasn't that he missed Asgard, exactly, it was just that he had never been away without his brother at the very least, and he thought that if this room still looked like his old one it would have been hard for him to adjust.

Sigyn, ever intuitive, decided to break the silence. "Father, why don't we let Loki show us his skill? He informed me that he was going to use his magic to transport his things here all at once so he didn't have to carry anything."

Frèyr looked impressed. "That would be delightful to witness! I was wondering why you didn't have any luggage. Go ahead, Your Majesty."

Loki blinked, momentarily stunned. He swallowed hard and nodded, taking a deep breath to focus. It was then that Loki felt the omnipresent thrum of magic that flowed through this realm like a heartbeat. He was able to gather his seidr to his hands more quickly and powerfully than usual, and when he waved his hand it took just a few seconds for his belongings to appear in the middle of the room in a flash of green. Loki was surprised to hear Frèyr and Sigyn applauding him. He turned to face them and they both wore wide smiles. Frèyr gave him a hug and clapped him on the back, and Loki couldn't help but feel the warmth of pride blooming in his chest.

"Well done, Loki," Frèyr praised. "I'm sure you'll wow the scholars and professors when you audition to get into the Sanctum!"

"Thank you, you are too kind," Loki said modestly. He was used to receiving praise from his mother, but all he ever got from his father was indifference, so these compliments were more than he had expected from the simple trick.

"Well, my Prince, we will leave you to your things so you can get settled, and don't forget that you have a surprise waiting for you on the desk. The festival will kick off in the evening hours, so that will give you time to put your things away and get dressed." Sigyn clasped her hands in front of her and smiled warmly. "Come, father, let's go down to the gardens and make sure everything is going as planned." She reached her hand out to shake Loki's, then linked her arm with Frèyr's and they left down the hallway, chatting about that evening's arrangements.

Loki was left to wonder about the festival itself, whether he would stand out in his black clothes among the commoners dressed in subdued earth tones of light green and beige. He wasn't even sure what he would have to do, or what the festival would entail. Trying to figure out where to start, he remembered what the Princess had said, that there was a package for him on the desk.

Sure enough, when he walked over to the desk there was a bundle wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. With fumbling fingers he unwrapped it and was taken back by the contents as he unfolded them and laid them out on the bed. It was a tunic, made of a thick but soft material in a forest green color, with vines and leaves embroidered along the sides up to the shoulders in light beige, and a pair of dark brown linen trousers. Loki assumed this was what he needed to wear for the Equinox. He left it on the bed for the time being and decided to focus on getting his things put up. Just as he prepared to put his piles of books away, he heard a soft knock at the door.

"Prince Loki?" said a soft female voice from out in the hall.

Loki frowned. He wasn't expecting anyone else. He opened the door to see a young looking woman with long, dark hair and dark eyes wearing a plain green dress, holding a tray of food in her hands. She barely came up to his chest but she looked up at him with no fear. "My name is Gwyn," she said, "and I'm going to be your handmaid while you're here, if it pleases you."

"Er… it's lovely to meet you, Gwyn, but I'm alright for now."

The maid tilted her head at him, confused. "You sure? You've got a lot of stuff to put away, I could help you with that. I'm supposed to get you dressed for the Equinox festival." She gestured to the tray and lifted it for him to see. "And I brought your lunch."

"Well, I suppose you can bring the tray in and set it down, but I think I can get everything put away on my own."

"I insist." Gwyn smiled and pushed past him to come into the room, and she sat the tray on his desk. Loki began to protest again but she held up her hand. "Trust me, Your Majesty, you'll get this done a lot faster with some help. Besides, if I'm going to be your handmaid, I need to know where your things are so you don't have to tell me." She looked around at the dozens of books on the floor and the ornate design of the room. "You're lucky you're here, this room has a soul and it will help yours heal," she said cryptically, looking Loki over as if she knew something he didn't.

Once Loki conceded to letting Gwyn help him, his room was finished in half the time it would have taken him to do it on his own. He found her to be pleasant company, and her stories of the kingdom's traditions passed the time comfortably. After he ate his lunch, he joined her in putting away his clothes and books. Loki delighted in how impressed she was by his collection, especially the blank manuscripts he had filled with his own works, as well as incantations and runes he had learned. Just as the first colors of dusk began to touch the horizon, Gwyn put the last book on his shelf.

"There," she said proudly, and brushed her hands off together. "See? It's okay to need help around here, Your Majesty."

Loki smiled at her. He had a feeling that there was a lot more to Gwyn than met the eye. "Thank you for your help," he said sincerely. "I think it's time for me to get ready though. You can take the tray and leave me to freshen up and change my clothes."

"Actually," Gwyn explained, pointing to his bathroom door, "part of my duty is to make sure you have a bath and that I help you get dressed."

"You… what?" Loki was astonished; he had not received, nor needed, assistance with bathing or dressing since he was a child. The maids would prepare his bath, and lay out his clothes for him while he was bathing, but there were more important things for Asgard's maids to do than bathe him.

"I have to help you with your bath, then get you dressed," she repeated with a matter-of-fact expression. "I've been doing the exact same thing with the entire royal family since before the late Queen Iwaldis was a babe in the cradle. It's nothing, really, and I can show you how everything in the bathroom works."

"I don't know, Gwyn, I can manage -"

"I insist."

Loki had to smile at that. He liked that Gwyn had spirit, and if this was what Alfheim's maids did, then he wouldn't protest. It was certainly no burden to him. He nodded, and Gwyn looked pleased with herself.

"I'll go run the bath water, and you can get your clothes off and put your robe on."

Gwyn went into the bathroom and shut the door, and Loki did as she asked. He had brought his robe from home, a thick and heavy garment that came down to his knees. He was just getting the strings tied when Gwyn came back out to fetch him. She chuckled at the sight of his pale legs.

"By the Norns, child," she shrieked jokingly, pretending to shield her eyes. "Thank goodness you're here, where you can get some sun without roasting to death. Come, the bath is ready."

His new maid ensured he was comfortable during the bath and Loki was surprised that he did not feel embarrassed once he actually got in the water. He pointed out the oils he wanted in the bath and she added them, and soon Loki was surrounded with the familiar smell of lavender and jasmine as Gwyn began to wash his hair.

Once the bath was over Loki allowed Gwyn to help him dress, and she fussed over his hair like a mother would, combing out all the tangles and working oils into it to make it soft. She tied it up the way the elves did for special occasions like this, into a half ponytail with a braid going down the back. His black boots didn't quite match the ensemble but they would have to do until he had others made. When she was done, Gwyn stepped back to admire her work and Loki blushed under her maternal scrutiny.

"You'll blend right in," she gushed, though Loki didn't believe her. "I'll escort you down to the gardens."

.-

Gwyn was not wrong.

As soon as Loki came to the gardens, he realized that most of the guests were wearing similar colored tunics and robes, all in autumn colors and light textures. All of them sported braids in their hair. Loki smiled and touched his own small braid.

King Frèyr greeted him and, after praising his style and how well he carried his new clothes, proceeded to introduce him to all of Alfheim's nobility.

Loki felt a bit dizzy, names and faces blending into each other. He nodded politely, shook and kissed hands, exchanged pleasantries effortlessly, as he had been taught most of his life, always keeping in mind that he was an Aesir Prince. It was part of his duty to represent the Royal Family and all of Asgard. Odin had made sure Loki knew the obligations of his station before he left. But there was a lot to take in, and Loki realized he probably wouldn't remember most of these names come tomorrow. He did his best to be courteous and attentive to each of them.

The festival itself was exciting and colorful. Loki watched as the citizens performed choreographed dances, enacted beautifully written plays, and cheered on the children in their games. Many were dressed in vibrant costumes portraying the Old Gods. The booths sold every kind of food and craft that the heart desired. It was both exhilarating and exhausting for Loki, who had little experience interacting with the common people of his own realm, but he knew it was a good learning experience for him.

He was relieved when the guests of honor gathered in the throne room and the feast finally began. All the guests took seats at the tables in the main chamber, and the place was soon filled to the brim with idle chatter and the smell of food. Loki had a place at the King's table, where the food was served first.

The food was yet another change from Asgard. The Aesir favored red meat, and Loki could not remember a feast where he hadn't seen several boars, goats and even a whole steer being roasted. Here, the food consisted mainly of a wide variety of leaner meats - birds, hares, and fish, which was expected given the rivers and lakes surrounding the area - and so many different vegetables that Loki didn't know the name of half of them. Thor would probably call all of it grass.

The elven ale was tastier too, not as bitter as the one back home, sort of fruity even, and infused with spices.

Loki ate, drank, laughed, danced! He couldn't even remember the last time he danced!

Everyone was so nice and friendly, and, more than that, they were accepting of who and what he was and treated him as one of their own. The elves were thrilled that an Aesir Prince was a seidr wielder. As Sigyn had said before, they had no time for brute force and boasting of your own strength. It was their honor to have him there, learning an ancient art that had been overlooked by Bor, and Odin after him. They guessed, quite accurately, that Thor would follow a similar path as his forefathers.

"Odin calls seidr a woman's craft, and he praises bloated musculature and heavy weapons," one of the noblemen said after they had all settled back down at the tables to drink some more, "but I guarantee when faced with a practitioner worth his salt he would be easily bested by the seidr he mocks." The others laughed merrily at this, and raised their tankards in agreement.

"One can only assume they use such big weapons to compensate for something!" Another round of loud laughter erupted from the table, followed by clanking pints.

King Frèyr winked at Loki, who nearly choked on his ale listening to the conversation.

One of the men turned to Loki. "What about you, my Prince? Do you fall in line with the house of Odin? What is your weapon of choice?" The hall fell into near silence as the nobles awaited his answer.

"Oh, well, as you can see, I'm not physically built for big swords and hammers," Loki said, slightly embarrassed. "I prefer daggers and knives, mostly." He put down his pint sheepishly. After a moment he was surprised to hear murmurs of awe from the guests.

"An impressive weapon of choice, if I may say so, Your Majesty," an older nobleman spoke up from the opposite end of the long table. "It takes a practitioner of true skill to wield both his magic and a melee weapon at the same time. Most choose to use longbows, if any weapon at all aside from seidr and wit." Affirmative laughter rippled across the tables, and the man took a deep sip from his pint, wiping the foam from his beard. "To fight with daggers and knives - that takes strength, agility, strategy, and split-second reaction time. You're just beginning to learn your craft, and you can already conjure from thousands of miles away. That, my Prince, is the mark of a man who will someday be a true King."

This wasn't the reaction Loki had expected. The hall erupted with agreements, men raising their tankards and repeating hear, hear. Loki could feel his face getting warm, and he found himself lost for words. They truly believed in him, as a person, as a wielder of seidr, as a future King, and they barely knew him. His head swam with a mix of emotions and ale.It almost felt like a dream, like he was going to wake in his old bed soon, back in Asgard.

Frèyr stood and raised his own cup high. "To our Prince, who will one day be the first man of magic to sit on the throne of Asgard in over ten thousand years! To Prince Loki!"

Prince Loki! The toast echoed through the hall as the guests drained their tankards and passed around more ale in massive flagons.

.-

It was well after midnight when the revelry died down and the guests began to leave. Loki was exhausted, but he realized that it was the kind of content exhaustion that followed a day of excitement and new experiences. Once he was excused to retire to his new bedroom, he was glad to be able to undress, take his hair down, and fall into bed in nothing but his undergarments.

Loki closed his eyes and allowed himself to smile into his pillow. He began to laugh as he relived the incredible and eventful day, and soon his stomach ached from laughing and he felt tears gathering in his eyes. Sighing with contentment, he sank down in the soft pillows and wrapped himself up in the thick blanket. Outside his window he could hear the gurgling of the river and the chirps of nocturnal insects, the lullaby of the land.

That night as he drifted off to sleep, and for the first time in his life, Loki felt he could be truly happy.