I spent the rest of the day hiding in my room, reading deep into the night and then into the morning. The little book was filled with spells about everything, from how to levitate, to how to enter someone's dreams. My mind was being stretched beyond belief. I barely understood this dimension, not alone the next. I had no idea what the "astral plane" was, or how to project emotions. Some of the passages were in cryptic languages I had never seen before. Other spells asked for sacrifices or for the spellcaster to gather magical objects from places that lurked at the edge of the universe. It was incredible, but it was not completely without drawbacks, for at the bottom of each spell there was a list of possible risks. Some were minor, like burns or temporary numbness, but others were grave, like blindness, madness, and death.

In the margin of its weathered pages were comments written in emerald colored ink. It was the same beautiful handwriting that the note had been written in. Sometimes I came across completely handwritten pages that had been stitched in, detailing how to perform spells that he had discovered himself. My fingers ran over his words softly as I read them. Visions of him alone, scribbling down his discoveries crossed my mind. I was seriously falling for him.

The rays of the mid-morning sun pierced through my window and my sleep deprived eyes winced as I rolled around in my bed. Happy daydreams of him floated in my thoughts. I closed my eyes as drowsiness finally started to take me over.

There was a gentle knock at my door, and I grumbled discontentedly, not wanting to get up.

"Ophelia?"

It was Frigga. I sat up instantly in my bed.

"Coming!" I responded, as in a sudden dizzy scramble, I hid the book under the covers and jumped out the bed. Trying to flatten my bedhead with my hands, I rushed over to the door. Praying that I didn't look like a total mess, I opened the door as calmly as I could.

"I'm sorry to just come without warning." She said, entering the room. "But I need to talk to you." She looked down at me and realized that I was wearing the same dress that was wearing yesterday to Odin's speech.

"Oh, you must think me awful odd." I blushed furiously. "I was up all night reading a book I found in the library."

She laughed softly, while joining me on my small chaise. "You remind of someone…" Her expression grew distant for a moment before she looked back at me. "I would not have come here unannounced without a reason." She took a deep breath. I had never seen her so emotional yet and so unreadable at the same time. "I'm here to talk about what Odin did not talk about yesterday in his address to the court… Loki's crimes."

I stared at her in partial shock that she would have come here to talk about this of all things.

"You are old enough to hear about now, and if he is to be part of our family again, you should know what kind of man he is." She gestured at me. "I shall say it, when he was younger he was not unlike you, reading books all night long."

My expression soured. "That is the second time someone has likened me to him."

"Really?" She tilted her head. "Did Jane do so?"

"Yes…" The folds of my dress crumpled underneath my grip.

"Jane has a deep fear of Loki and of magic. You know that Jane is from Midgard?"

"Yes, I do but, I'm afraid I do not know much about Midgard though."

"It is a sensitive subject." She got up and began around pacing the room, her thoughts weighing heavily on her.

"Loki destroyed Midgard." She suddenly said, like there was no other way around it. "He invaded it," She continued. "He fought against both Thor and Midgard's Avengers. When Loki realized that there was no way he could win or escape he triggered a series of bombs that he had hidden all across the surface of Midgard, killing a great many people."

"How was he permitted to live after doing such a thing?" I asked in horror.

"He is still alive because what he did was not his doing." She sat back down next to me, seeming broken hearted and distraught. "He might have always been a dark and brooding prince, but he was not in his was not in his right mind when he invaded and leveled Midgard. The jeweled scepter that he had wielded and used to brainwash so many in his invasion, had actually brainwashed him. He was merely a vessel of someone far eviler. His mind was possessed with a voice that spoke stronger than a thousand voices. We still to this day do not know who the voice belongs to, but we pray that we never encounter its owner on the battlefield. It has taken decades of work by the priestesses to remove that toxic waste from his mind. Loki has been clear headed for three years now, and the next phase of his adjustment is to be amongst family, but there are those like Jane who do not believe he was innocent. She thinks the voice was a spell that Loki cast on himself in order to protect himself against being executed. She blames him for the destruction of her world and thinks that we are blind to his ways."

I leaned forward, resting my head in my hands. "This is a lot to take in."

"I understand Ophelia, but I'm telling you for more than the sake of just telling you." She took my hands in hers. "I am warning you. How Loki first encountered the scepter is still a mystery. He was guilty of crimes before his invasion Midgard, and if Jane thinks that I am blind it is far from the truth. I know that my son is not good, but also do not believe that he is bad. He is different, and we still do not know what he wants in this new life we are giving him. Just be mindful of what he has done when you meet him tomorrow night, or if he ever speaks to you directly."

"Why would he speak to me?" My eyes rose to meet hers.

"Because, you are different too." My lips parted in surprise. She smiled at me, while gripping my hands reassuringly.

"We should talk more often." She said rising and heading towards the door.

"Yes, we should." I echoed, still sitting overwhelmed on the chaise.

"See you tomorrow." She called while closing the door, leaving me alone in my room to dwell on my newly found thoughts.