Chapter 12

Imogen stared ahead with dull eyes as she let her thoughts take her – something she did a lot lately. The real world wasn't something that concerned her much anymore.

Especially when that involved accepting gifts of condolences for the loss of their son.

No.

Imogen sat as still as a statue on the throne beside her stiffly smiling husband, her hands resting on the arm rests, face drawn and pale. She hated being here. But – her eyes focusing for a moment and taking in the hordes of people still flooding the court floor – there was no chance she would be able to escape it anytime soon.

So many people had come… she hadn't thought it would be such a reception for them, even if they were King and Queen. Perhaps, the courts rumours about her had not damaged her reputation as much as she'd thought. Citizens had shown up all day, with their entire families, to wish their rulers well and blessings and condolences. Thor and Imogen's job was to smile and say 'thank you'.

Imogen didn't want to. She didn't want to be reminded of what had happened and she knew Thor didn't either. How could they ever forget? It was like the country was tearing open the fresh wounds inside their rulers' hearts and wanted the King and Queen on display so they could watch them bleed. It was the very thing Imogen loathed the most; bearing her weakness for all to see. She wouldn't do it.

She didn't care what was expected of her. If the court were hoping for a snivelling, weeping woman to show the kingdom, they would be sorely disappointed. Imogen wasn't sure she could cry anymore anyway – did she have any more tears to shed?

"Thank you." Thor thanked for the hundredth time beside her, as the guards took away a ghastly yellow and green blanket that had been offered by the departing elderly citizens.

Imogen snapped out of her daze long enough to watch it go with a gaping, horrified jaw. Those colours… gods, what an awful thing! Why had that been given to them? She snapped her eyes down to Thor, but ignored his hard eyes and tenser-than-usual mouth. "What the hell was that?" she hissed under her breath as the floor before them cleared for a moment, as the next couple made their way up to the thrones.

Thor didn't turn his head, and Imogen noted the way his mouth turned down at the corners in displeasure. "That, my dear," he near growled. "Was a fertility blanket."

The blood fled Imogen's face in a heartbeat.

She felt made of marble as she stiffly faced front again, jaw tense, but eyes no longer blank – they were busy, flurrying with thought.

A fertility blanket?! Those were given to middle aged women who had yet to conceive – not her! Young, fit and strong with centuries of life ahead of her…she'd already proved her fertility. She had a live child. Conception was not her issue.

Although… her hand floated subconsciously to her stomach, flat and toned beneath the material of her golden dress. It had been over a week ago since Thor had adhered to her plea to make love to her. She'd put herself through the agony every night since, desperate for that child. As far as she knew, it had been to no avail. There was no sickness, or bloating, or missed bleeding that she could use to help her tell. Her bleeding had just about stopped… but it was too early for her to tell if a child was developing in her womb or not.

She'd have to wait. Only she wasn't good at waiting. Her fingers rubbed soft circles into her stomach absent mindedly as she thought to herself. She wanted a child. She wanted to be pregnant again.

She felt vulnerable now. This kind of failure was just the sort of opportunity the court had been looking for to sway Thor away from her.

Thor needed sons and she had failed him. The son she had borne had died. Rumours were already spreading with questions about the quality of her womb it seemed, if the fertility blanket was anything to go by. What use was a wife that couldn't produce heirs for the king? What would they tell him about her to try and get him to forget her? More Linda's?

Her heart constricted in her chest at the thought. The thought of Thor stood high and mighty in the palace while she was tossed out on the courtyard, ordered home to her parents while Thor took a new, young, pregnant wife…was that her future? How long would Thor love her if she couldn't give him a son?

Fear started to spike inside her, shortening her breath. Gods… he couldn't leave her. What would she do if he left her? And Shelby – would he take Shelby from her too?

She couldn't live without him. She loved him too much to let him go. She'd never find someone she loved as much as Thor, but if he didn't want her anymore… gods, she wasn't sure she could bear it. She needed him. She'd rather slit her own throat than watch him take another over her.

She jumped as Thor's hand closed over hers on the arm of the chair, squeezing fondly. Her eyes were wide as they snapped to her husband, heart hammering as he pulled her from her reservoir of thought.

A soft smile met her, warm on her husband's lips. "It will be okay, Imogen." He breathed softly. "One day, we shall try for another child."

Imogen held her breath – she was already trying. He just didn't know it yet. She tried to keep her eyes clear and free of panic though, as calm as she could muster with the plotting thoughts running through her head. Was he saying he wanted to wait? 'One day'…

He couldn't wait, Imogen decided swiftly for him in her head. For her sake and his, they needed a son. He needed to seal his claim on the throne, and she needed to seal her claim as his wife. A son would do that for her. Thor would never tire or grow dissatisfied with her if only she could give him an heir..

Whether he was ready to try or not, Imogen would give him that child.

Her lips pressed together in her determination but she forced them to soften, moulding them into a stiff, awkward smile. "One day." She echoed in promise.

Only that day would come sooner than Thor thought. Imogen was determined to make it so…

XXX

Another week went by, and Imogen felt just as childless as she had in the last.

Her fingers stroked over her flat, soft stomach as if she could stir a child into existence in her womb. Nothing had changed. Nothing at all.

She lay draped over her bed in her and Thor's chambers, lost in her own world of thought. She didn't want to see anybody today, withdrawing herself from court duties. She just felt exhausted, lifeless...dragging herself upright from bed seemed like masses of effort! Tiredness was a sign of pregnancy, right?, she tried to convince herself.

But it wasn't enough and she knew it. Her super fertile window since the birth had closed; what if she'd failed?

The anxiety tore at her heart again and her whole body stiffened, tensing amongst the blissfully soft white sheets of the bed. Failure…that meant losing her husband. That meant losing everything.

The more she thought about it, the surer she became. Thor would abandon her if she couldn't give him what he needed. She would, in his place. What good was a wife and queen that couldn't produce heirs? The Queen before her had given two. She had to at least match that.

But the only son she had borne was dead.

Her name was already tainted, thrown in disgrace. Having a dead child was worse than not conceiving in the first place. But lately, she couldn't seem to do either.

Every day, she hardened herself, dreaming of her likely future: back at her parents' house, alone, sat hugging her knees while she dreamt of the days she was with Thor…Thor would be foolish if he kept her and she could not serve him. They didn't keep lame horses. They didn't keep broken furniture. Everything had to play its part.

And she couldn't fulfil hers. It would cost her her life – or at least, everything that made it valuable: her husband, her baby…she would be nothing.

Her life rested in this baby, if she could conceive a son or not.

Thor was a kind, great man… but he was a king now. He had more than just her to think about. What was the happiness of one woman compared to the prevalence of a whole kingdom?! He had to put them before her. And the good of the kingdom needed sons, heirs to succeed Thor when he was gone.

Imogen was starting to think she couldn't give him that. So what was the point of her? The court didn't like her, she couldn't give Thor children… gods, she would get rid of her, if she was in Thor's place. It was logical. It made sense. And she was sure the court was thinking the same thing, even if it was with just a little more malice behind it. They'd convince him somehow, Imogen was sure of it. Even she couldn't prove herself out of this one, persuade Thor…there was nothing she could do.

She was sure Thor would be nice about it; keep her family in good condition, let her see Shelby…but he wouldn't be hers and that drove the pain deeper than she could imagine. She was going to lose him.

Gods, she'd be left in tatters. People always laughed at the idea of Thor, the prince and her, the maid, but when the rumours came to be true…. They'd said they loved each other. That that was enough. How naïve…

That could never have been enough.

What had he seen in her in the first place?

Why was he still with her now?! She was not as slim as she once was, nor had the vigorous passion for sex – hell, she could barely have sex without bleeding and biting her lip to hold down her cries of pain! What man could be attracted to that?! She was surprised he'd stayed with her for this long! Maybe he was still clinging to the 'love' illusion.

That had all shattered for Imogen when her baby had died. That was when she'd realised the cold, hard truth about life: if you weren't strong enough, you perished.

And she wasn't strong enough to bear a boy for her husband. The day would come when 'love' wouldn't be able to compensate for that loss.

Thor would realise it.

She scrunched her eyes shut against the thought and dragged a pillow down from the top of the bed down to hug over her stomach, rolling over onto her side. She just didn't know what to do…

Her core felt hot, radiating with pain from her insistent sex with Thor for the last few weeks, and she pressed her thighs together, trying to ease the pain. It ached, burned so hot…she wondered if he'd ripped her wounds from childbirth open afresh. There wasn't much blood – only after sex really – but it was hot and painful, almost cramping.

Suddenly, Imogen's eyes snapped open. Cramping – her monthly bleed. Maybe that was coming. The breath stopped in her chest.

Gods… then she was definitely childless. Her body slumped down into the sheets at the thought. If her bleed was coming, then she really had screwed up. There was no baby, no hope..

She bit her lip against the pain suddenly clenching in her chest and pushed herself up from the bed, her hair a mess around her. Her head span from lying for so long – or maybe she was dizzy from not eating. When was her last meal? She hadn't eaten with Thor that morning, or the night before. When had she last eaten something? She couldn't remember. Her stomach clenched again and she winced, but this time, she didn't freeze with horror. Maybe it wasn't her monthly bleed – maybe it was just hunger. Pure, extensive hunger.

Her heart fluttered slightly with the small flicker of hope and her spirits flittered from despair. Her head lifted from the sheets. Food; if she was going to bear a healthy child, she needed to be well herself…

The life started to work into her system as the thoughts ran through her mind, heart beating with her renewed hope. She sat up, ignoring the way her head span. Food. Then she would think again. She moved slowly as she lowered her feet to the ground, steadily putting weight on them. She felt weak. How pathetic…her head was light and spinning slightly, but she took small steps, building her strength up with each one.

She was doing herself no favours moping around, she decided. She couldn't stay like this. She was a mother, a wife, and if she wanted to stay in those positions, she couldn't just surrender to her misery. She had to face the day.

She crossed the foyer of their chambers and morphed herself into a Queen in the process. Back straightening, chin lifting, her eyes were coolly hardened by the time her hands found the door. It took more effort than she remembered to push it open.

Outside the door, she was a Queen – not an ordinary woman. She had standards to upkeep. She had to be strong.

She strode through the door, not glancing at the guards either side that defended them. She stared ahead, trying to persuade herself that she was a powerful Queen, strong, loved, and safe. As fragile as she felt on the inside, she couldn't let it show on the outside. Except her red eyes. There was no hiding those.

The more steps she took, the stronger they became and her act of wellbeing became more certain. Her lips even flickered in a small smile, proud as she was able to pick up the pace of her stride without difficulty. This was more like the person she was supposed to be.

Her eyes blinked a little brighter as she turned another corner, feeling her mood rise even more. Was this all she needed to be happy? Just a walk…maybe she should go and spend some time with Shelby later. Or Thor. She'd refused his offer to join him in meetings earlier that morning; she'd felt too lifeless to defend herself against the court. But maybe she could join him after all, feeling better just from the lungfuls of crisp fresh air that bathed the palace.

Her eyes glanced to the side as she walked, not even sure of her destination anymore. Kitchen or council room? The decision was driven from her mind though as she noticed the orange colour of the sky outside, through one of the windows she passed.

Her lips parted in shock.

A whole day? She'd spent a whole day in despair? It was sunset… she couldn't join Thor then. He'd be concluding business, coming back to her, to their chambers as he'd promised. As he'd decreed.

Her feet slowed her steps until she stopped completely, head lowered as she thought. Maybe she ought to go back. Just go back. Her heart sank a little at the thought but… the day was gone. There was nothing she could do. It was her fault. She'd have to make the most of tomorrow instead; take Shelby out for picnic, or to play in the orchard.. Thor could join them when he could.

Her lips curved in a very real smile as the thought swam in her mind, imagining her little girl's lively smile. And Thor's – he always beamed at seeing Shelby happy.

Yes..she would do that...even if today had escaped her, she could make the most of tomorrow. Of tonight. Maybe tonight she wouldn't force herself through the ordeal of coupling with Thor. Maybe tonight she'd settle for him just holding her, kissing her forehead as she fell asleep, comfortable for once...

She was walking again before she knew it.

Maybe all that would buy her time. If she could not secure Thor, she had to at least win his favour. She needed to keep him happy. Even if he was sonless, if he was happy, he wouldn't send her away.

That was her hope now. She had to keep him happy in the meantime, until she could give him an heir. As long as she didn't give him a reason to replace her, she should be safe. Happy. She needed to keep him happy. How? How could she keep him smiling? He had to be focussed on her so he didn't notice his lack of a son.

What did every man like? - food and sex. But Thor wanted her happy, so sex was to be put on hold. But food... she could get a midnight snack for him for when he got back to their chambers. Some food, some mead.. oh, that could make him very happy.

Her eyes were glazed with thought as she walked, plan in mind. She would win him over. She would keep her husband. He hadn't straye so far; there was still time. She hadn't lost him yet..

She turned a corner and blinked herself back to focus, thinking of what she would bring back for Thor, the husband she hadn't lost yet...

Then she stopped in her tracks as she saw him further down the corridor.

He stood there, bold cape and armour, fresh from the council room. But he wasn't alone. He was talking, turned to his companion, looking down to their small, petit frame, smiling at their conversation. Imogen felt her stomach turn nauseaously - Linda.

The young girl was dressed in a simple maid's gown but her slim figure was still appealing beneath the material, her pretty smile lighting up her face. Linda, the whore. She was back.. Imogen's hand found her stomach as she started to feel like she was going to be sick. Younger, prettier, sexier Linda... and Thor was speaking to her.

Why was she in the palace? The court had sent her away, removed her position as Thor's mistress when she'd failed to bed him. Why was she here now?

Her heart sank rapidly - then ached as if someone had kicked it when Thor laughed at something the girl said.

Was she here to try again? To try and seduce her husband again? Gods, if she even dared...but she did dare, by the look of it. And Thor was hardly refusing her. He was talking and laughing - and touching! The gods hand cupped the girls shoulder gently as another soft rumble of laughter left him. Gods, he.. he really was enjoying her company.

He hadn't laughed around Imogen for weeks. He looked happy...

Imogen turned away before her heart would give out, beating hard and fast in her chest. Her husband was happy... with another woman.

Her legs were carrying her away before she made the decision to. Even as she saw corridors whiz by around her, she still couldn't recall deciding to move. But she was dashing through the palace, running with a speed she didn't believe. How was she doing this? She couldn't think...

She was barely even breathing.

Air tore into her lungs as her body burst for breath, and her strength gave out near the same time - mercifully, it was the same time she crashed through the door of their chambers and flung herself down on her bed, surrendering to the anguish.

She moaned as the tears came. Pain, crippling, crippling pain tore through her heart and she cursed it's beating. She cursed being alive. Anger flared hot and fast through her system, hating her marriage, her baby - ever meeting Thor in the first place. She should have held her tongue in the court room that day. Whatever damage Elga would had done couldn't possible hurt worse than this. If she'd have seen this future, knowing she was destined for this misery, would she have chosen a different course?

Then a knock came from the door, and she could wonder no more.

Imogen sniffed quickly, wiping the tears away instantly. Who could it be? Thor? He wouldn't knock for his own chambers. Shelby and her minder? Perhaps..Imogen couldn't cry in front of her baby. Or someone else... hell, she couldn't cry it front of anyone, no matter who it was.

"My Lady, may I come in?" a womanly voice came through the door. "I have a message from the prince."

A maid.. she was just a maid. And she had a message from Thor.

Imogen lifted her head slightly, trying to find her voice. "Yes?" she croaked, cursing her fragile tone. She didn't want the maid to report anything as wrong. She pushed herself up shakily on her arms quickly as the door groaned open. Better she was found upright than lying like a corpse.

Quiet steps told her the maid was coming in, but she didn't dare turn around to see her. She was sure her expression would betray her.

"Prince Thor sent me to tell you he would not be returning for the night."

Imogen's heart stopped. Thor would... not be coming back to her. Then to who? Linda? Her head span at the thought. Gods, she felt sick...

"Will that be all, my Lady?"

No, Imogen replied in her head. Spear me through the heart before you leave. It would hurt less than this, put her out of her misery. Thor.. with Linda. No, she couldn't bear the thought.

There was none of the determination that she'd had last time. Last time, it had been the court she'd been defying. This time... this time, Thor wanted to go. He'd willingly gone to that girl. Nobody had forced or persuaded or obliged him - he chose to go to her bed.

That bit hurt the most. "Yes," she mumbled quietly. "That will be all."

She felt numb... cold...Thor was fucking another girl and he sent a message back to his wife to let her know where he was? Imogen felt sick.

The closing of the door, slammed her still heart back to life. She gasped for air - which morphed instantly into a pained sob as the tears built again. Anguish hit hard and fast. It was just hard to take in the depth of Thor's betrayal, not just that he was doing this, but...

Her hands buried her face, as she curled up into the bed, just about holding back from screaming her chest hurt so much. Her beloved husband had chosen to leave her alone while he went to sleep with a young, beautiful girl and he was flaunting it. That cut her deeper than anything. She'd been braced for it to happen eventually, but not so soon, not now. She wasn't prepared for it now, just after the death of their son.

How could he? Did he have no heart at all? That same Thor had sobbed into her dress after their son's funeral. And now he was bedding another woman, just weeks on from that.

And it wouldn't stop. This was just the beginning of the end. Screwing Linda once - h'd do it again. Once he'd doubted Imogen this one time, once he'd been tempted, he wouldn't be able to just go back to ordinary, married life. After this, it was only a matter of time before Imogn found herself cast out...

The teas stilled as the notion sunk in and her panicked breaths slowed to ones number with shock. For a second, she just lay there. Then, she pushed herself weakly up again, sitting upright.

Her eyes graze over the floor of their chambers and she felt cold when she realised that was all she'd see all night. Their cold, empty room.

No... she couldn't just sit here an wait for him to come back to her in the morning, if he came at all. Just wait for him? No, she didn't even want to see him. She wasn't sure she could bear it. What would he do? Smile in her face or avoid her? She didn't really want to find out.

Suddenly, the room was suffocating. It was too much. She couldn't be here. It just dug the wound in deeper. It was too painful...

Numbly, she dragged herself up from the bed, her mind a blank. She couldn't be here, she thought dully. Every glimpse of their marriage chambers made her heart throb and she couldn't bear any more pain. No more. Not with the death of her baby so fresh in her heart.

She blinked and she was in the corridor. But she didn't question it. She didn't stop her legs moving though, didn't want to. It was taking her away.

She stopped thinking. Thinking led to feeling, and what she was feeling wasn't good. She embraced the numbness with gratitude, slowing her breath, her heart.. her hurt. It cushioned her from dying of pain. That was what it felt like.

The alternative, facing Thor's betrayal, was unthinkable.

She walked, but more and more steps were far from unintentional now. She was getting away herself, leaving of her own accord. Her stride picked up in pace.

By the time she went through the palace gates, into the fresh open Asgardian air and leaving her world behind her, she was running.