Pam-pam! Well, new chapter. A bit of action, a bit of mystery. Hope you like it.


Frigga's ageless face relaxed in a smile as she wandered down the memory lane. In her mind's eye images flashed in rapid succession; blissful moment of watching her sons play in the vast gardens, Thor's grinning, mud-spattered face and Loki's bright eyes shining in the summer sun and Odin sitting somewhere under the shade of a tree, happiness radiating off of him. Such days were no longer within her grasp; those times were long passed. Both her sons had grown in a split-second before her eyes, no longer were they the boys that held onto the skirt of her dress, trembling at their father's chastising voice.

Not being able to help herself, the blonde deity wondered how her younger son was. Frigga hoped that the realm she had given him, the souls she had left in his care would be a teacher to Loki. He needed to learn compassion for others than his family in order to be a good ruler. The boy needed to let himself care. Remembering the Loki of the old, his mother hardly doubted he would fail. Her son would not fail her. Blue eyes blinked the more dangerous thoughts away. Loki would keep to his promise and look after those who put their lines in his hands.

"There now, I need not worry about him. He shall do well." she encouraged herself. Her reflection stared back at her from between the edges of the mirror, a small twist curving her mouth. Strands of gold glittered in the bright light and Frigga turned around. There was no time to lie around, a kingdom didn't run itself. Stepping easily along the marble floor, Frigga passed through the opened doors, hardly minding the guards patrolling the corridors. She responded appropriately to the well-wishers and those who saluted her, while wishing that Loki would be here too. She hadn't realised letting him go would be that difficult.

A shallow breeze passed her and Frigga didn't have to look to see that her three maids were trailing after her. "I shall spend some time in the gardens." she told them after a brief moment of silence. "I am not to be disturbed." There was no need for a verbalized answer to her expressed command as not many dared defy Odin's spouse; those who did often found themselves in unpleasant situations, which did not involve them being alive. Whoever said that women had no real power in the house of Odin had been mistaken, gravely so; that poor soul.

"Fulla, bring me the spinning wheel."

The soft sound of her helper departing could barely be heard. Frigga looked at the horizon, blue eyes trained on a far point. The future she had often seen within her visions was marvellous not only for her second born. Thor too would have the chance to do good when his time came. As a mother she prayed to see her son rule some day soon, but as Odin's wife she never wanted her king to return to the blackness of before. If he went away she would follow him; their essences were so. One could hardly live without the other.

Before she could let black thoughts engulf her, a beautifully ornamented spinning wheel was placed in front of her. The Queen took a few moments to admire the sumptuous piece of work. A multitude of precious stones glittered like a thousand suns from their nooks in the machine's golden skin. This had been a gift given to her many lifetimes ago. Tracing a pattern with the pad of her index finger, she smiled at the distant memories. Bright eyes and a whirlwind of colours were the most distinctive of the lot. Frigga stopped fiddling with one of the rubies and glanced at the rosebush in front of her.

A cheery tune passed her closed lips as she started spinning the wheel. It was time to bring some clouds to the naked sky. She hadn't weaved clouds in so long. Loki and Thor had demanded all of her attention and so she had been utterly unable to deck the endless azure above. Odin had commented on missing her creations on multiple occasions and now that she finally had time to please her husband she intended to do just that. 'I wonder how long this peace will last.' Oddly enough, it hadn't crossed her mind yet that it could ever end until now.

Thor and Loki were both headstrong; none was likely to let anything go if they considered themselves to be right. And most often they did. But perhaps the females in their lives would have a calming effect on her two sons. If that didn't help than nothing was ever likely to.

A curse escaped her lips in the next moment. Lost in her thoughts, Frigga had ignored a stray needle that had travelled dangerously close to her finger. The pointy metal had embedded itself in her finger. She looked at it with mild irritation before pulling it out. As calm as always, she watched drops of blood sliding down her digit while Fulla went in search of ointment and healing draught. Because they were not human, the Æsir healed differently. A wound would not close by itself in magic was not applied to it. The barest touch would do, but in its absence the injury would not heal.

Something was amiss, never before had Frigga been sliced by one of her own possessions. This was a sign she could not ignore.

"Find the King." she ordered loudly to one of the guards.

The follower bowed deeply before hurrying in the direction of the throne room.

"I have to tell him. This is not to be taken lightly."

The air was thick with something unknown to her. Odin would have to be very careful; not for himself she realised a heartbeat later, but for Loki. Perhaps it had been wrong of her to send him to his birth realm. Who was to say what was waiting for him there.

Panic set in.

.

.

.

A lone figure travelled the frozen, snow-covered ground of the Frost Giants' realm. The stranger was tall and thin, almost bent over. He was either very old or injured. But judging by the trail of deep red he left in his wake, it was the second. The stark contrast between the pure sea of white and the occasional spots of burgundy upset a carefully set balance. The red hadn't been meant to mix with the white. It almost burned to look upon the scene. Such hadn't been since the Great War.

Had anyone looked with more attention, they would have noticed that the cool blue skin was marred with dried blood, and dirt caked in the male's long raven tresses. The light armour around his body at been torn in places, showing its inefficiency in protecting its owner. Long, slender hands coiled around his middle and blood poured over them. He would soon be dead at the rate it was leaving his body. Unknown eyes were closed in pain as teeth gnashed together. This man was using the last of his strength to reach a place, to deliver something of utmost importance.

Two palace guards looked upon the approaching figure. The scent of blood filled their nostrils making them stop before any of the two could alert others. The person needed help, and fast, by the look of things. Both giants rushed to his aid, catching the poor fellow just in time. He collapsed in their arms murmuring something they could not understand. Still, they took him inside the palace walls; he was one of them, the uniform told everyone so. What he had been doing outside none knew but they would not let a brother die. It was an unwritten rule.

One of the younglings came running with healer in tow. The tall female was peering at them through thick lashes, persimmon eyes narrowing at the image they presented. She pursed her violet lips and shook her head. "Hurry you fools! Can't you see he's dying?" she berated the guards who hissed at her and rushed their comrade at the healing centre. Glaring after them, the female healer stepped gingerly over the glistening snow. "Poor thing." she whispered suppressing a shiver. What could have possibly hurt him so? Bring him in such a state. "I hope nothing evil befalls us." Sleeking her short chopped hair back the woman ran across the courtyard.

"Siegfried, call the master healer! Hurry, child!" she yelled at a young soldier while opening a door. "I will need help on this one."

The wounded soldier had been placed on a clean cot, a bowl of water and pristine knifes sat on a table next to him. Picking up a sharp weapon, the healer cut through the worn armour. "It's of no use anyway." She threw the blood soaked thing away and turned back to her patient. His torso was covered in lacerations but the biggest and probably most dangerous one was that which travelled the length of his abdomen. "Oh, where is that senile, old fool when I need him?" she questioned loudly, a flash of red, hot anger crossing her face.

With precise movements she turned around and grabbed a clean towel. Agile hands dipped it in water and she washed the thick substance away. "Stupid thing keeps getting in my way." Picking up a knife she studied the wounds. From the get go she had known they were arrow wounds and blade slashes. Now, when the man lay before her, she could clearly see the metallic heads fully or half-implanted in his skin. "Master, would you hurry up!" Of course her teacher was nowhere to be found when he was needed. "Probably fell asleep somewhere. I told him a million times not to!"

"For what reason are you delighting us with your enchanting voice?" the sharp reply cut through her concentration like an axe.

Instead of throwing a most hateful glare his way, the woman kept her eyes on her working hands. "You are late."

"I hear you called me a senile old man. And a fool too."

"Indeed." she drawled unapologetically.

Vermillion pools flashed in subdued irritation. "Have you no shame? Cursing at your elders."

"Not when said elder is off gallivanting while I do all the work."

"Foolish child. I have done more work in two days of my training than you have done in two years."

"Let's not exaggerate, grandpa. You've always been fonder of your bed than of your work."

"Keep your mouth shut!"

"Touché!"

"What have you found, girl?"

"Well, here. He seems to have encountered a band of rouges. These arrow heads are unmarked, as you can see." She held a small metallic one in the light for her master to see. "The slash wounds were meant to kill, he is luck I've managed to sew them. This one might never be able to fight again master, they've crushed the bones of his hands."

The older giant nodded his head, a veil of white hair falling across his shoulders. "He will live."

"Yes. It seems so."

"You should be proud, girl. You've saved a life today."

"Somehow that doesn't make me all giddy inside. How will he live from now on? He won't ever be able to wield a sword again."

"There is more to life than fighting."

"For us. They are soldiers. Fighting is all they know."

"Don't underestimate them so. Soldiers may well surprise you."

"I know you're trying to make me feel better but I grew up with them; I know what they are like."

"Your father was a great warrior; his life was on the battlefield. That doesn't mean that every soldier longs to splatter blood on the ground."

"He couldn't let it go, my father. Not even for us, his children. And in the end mother paid for it."

"Child, 'tis sad, but not all are like that."

"My brothers were like that too."

"It is not so. They were merely living in your father's shadow and wanted to follow his example."

"Great good it did them."

"Enough. Look after him; I leave this one in your care."

A silvery object rolled on the floor with a sharp noise making the healers turn to it.

.

.

.

Freeing herself from the tangle of sheets she had gotten into the previous night, Darcy looked around the room. The chill had woken her up, she assumed, rubbing her arms. She still shivered at odd moments, not quite used to the climate change yet. Leif had taken it better than her. The kid seemed to love the cold. And why not? He had his father's blood running through his veins. Shaking the thoughts away, Darcy raised her hand. "So that's why I'm cold." She was in her human form again. "Curious. I was sure I had assumed the other one last night."

Concentrating her power on shifting her form, Darcy let the magic flow through her. She had to admit there were some definite perks to being icy. For one, her new form was much more durable than her normal one. A smirk appeared on her face. She distinctly remembered some very useful functions of her new found durability. Craning her neck, Darcy peeked at Leif's crib. As expected she could see nothing through the white sheets. Sighing softly she slipped out of bed and paced to the crib. Her uncovered feet touched the floor and when she felt no cold she knew her shape shifting had succeeded. "Your mom is the best, kid. You hear?" she whispered to herself more than to the baby.

Leif was asleep. Darcy smiled down at him and slowly pressed a finger to his cheek. "My beautiful baby." She could already see it in her mind, their future together. She would watch her son grow up and Loki would teach him how to fight and do magic. He would one day catch the eye of some very lucky girl. "I'm almost jealous, I don't want to share you. I wish you could stay like this forever, darling." Realising there was still a long way to go the petite woman chuckle4d softly. "What would Loki say if he saw me now?"

"That you have gone insane, most likely." was the whispered reply.

Darcy turned to him and smirked. "Did not. It's perfectly normal."

"So you say."

"You know, maybe next time we should have a girl. We'll see who has the last laugh."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"We're definitely having a girl. You know, if she's anything like me, she'll have a hoard of suitors on her heels."

Loki smirked disbelievingly. "They wouldn't dare."

"You seem so sure. I hope you are not disappointed." she replied with a disarming smile, a blatant challenge in her words.

"They won't!"

He had been so sure of what he was saying that Darcy couldn't help the peals of laughter that sprang from her lips. "Do you think Leif would enjoy having a sister? Would you like having a daughter?"

"Very much so."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"And when should we begin our work?"

"I was never one for procrastination." Never when it came to something she liked, Darcy added in her head. "The sooner, the better."

"We are in agreement then, my Lady."

Without so much as a by-your-leave, Loki wrapped his arms around her and pulled Darcy in for a passionate kiss. She giggled at his impatience and slapped his shoulder. "Quiet. Leif is asleep."

"I wasn't planning to wake him, don't worry."

"At the way you're going not only will you wake him, the whole place will know what's going on."

There was a glint in his eyes when he spoke, "They won't say a thing. What goes on in these rooms never gets out. These are the personal; chambers of the King."

"That implies there are other personal chambers to be explored."

"The Queen has her own chambers too. I thought you would be more comfortable here though."

"I wasn't complaining. I will be here most of the time anyway, so there's no need for other rooms really."

"I like your way of thinking."

"I do too. I'm quite the genius."

"And very modest."

"Like you're the one to give me lessons on modesty."

Impatience won Loki over and he started walking forward, forcing Darcy to step back until her knees hit the bed and she fell on the mattress. She glared at him playfully and silently prayed that Leif would sleep some more.

"See, you can be quiet if you only try."

"You have a one-track mind."

"You were the one who was provoking me."

"I did no such thing. You're incorrigible." She choked slightly on the last word as Loki attacked her neck with small nips. "Stop that."

"Why? I like doing this."

"Stop trying to distract me. I can't scold you properly when you're driving me mad."

"Then I'll keep driving you mad. I might just get the kind of scolding I'm looking for." He slid his hand down her body. "Just remember to keep quiet."

"Screw you."

"I'd rather it be the other way around. And stop using that language, you'll teach our son inappropriate words."

Her breath hitched. "Of course Your Majesty. I will more refined swears next time around, I promise."

The woman's snarky comment was rewarded with another kiss. Then another. And another. And one more for good measure. As he was about to continue a knock on the door interrupted them. Muttering under his breath, Loki disentangled himself from Darcy and straightened his outfit before speaking.

"Enter."

A half-courageous, half-frightened guards entered. He bowed. "Your Majesty, there is something you must see."

"Very well then. Hand it over."

The sentry hesitated, his eyes travelling to the woman who had lifted herself from the bed and was now standing over her son's crib. "Your Majesty."

"Better yet, let us go to my office." Loki said a beat later. "My Lady, I will see you later on."

"Have a good day, Your Majesty." Darcy had been given a crash course into royalty behaviour and appropriate manners.

A nod was her reply and Loki turned to the door. The soldier followed him out, presumably to his office. Darcy looked at her child. He was still sleeping.

"Leif, darling, it's time to get up and eat. Come on sweetheart."

One ruby eye popped open. The boy gurgled almost inaudibly.

"Come on. We'll go out after."

Seeming to agree with her, Leif made a small noise and flailed his arms and legs.

"Impatient, are we? Just like your father."


Don't be shy now. Leave some feedback. I'm eager to know what you think. :)