Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and to sarahmichellegellarfan1 for reviewing. Noone else reviewed, though, which is kinda disappointing - I hope y'all like the new chapter better!

Nerves

The morning of Thor's coronation dawned bright and golden. Most days did, in Asgard, but it seemed that the Norns looked on this day with special happiness.
The birds were singing since the first rays of sunshine had broken the darkness, there was not a single cloud in the sky and a soft breeze made for a pleasant warmth.

Dawn also found both me and Loki wide awake. We were both too tense to sleep and too strung-up to be without the other. Loki still rejected any doubt or second thought on what we had planned, but he could not hide the nervousness from me.

I stood by the window to watch the sunrise. He had the luck that his chambers were facing towards the gardens, whereas I ever only looked onto the courtyard.
Loki had lain sprawled out on his bed, but had risen so silently that I did not realize he had even stirred until his arms wrapped around me and pulled me back into him.

"Ready, my love?" he murmured into my ear.

I sighed and let my head loll back against his shoulder. Almost immediately, he lowered his slightly and his lips ghosted over the tender skin of my neck. "No," I said.

In response, his teeth grazed against me. "We've been over this," he whispered.

"I know," I assured him and tilted my head to the side, giving him unrestricted access. "I won't tell, you can trust me. I'm just... scared, I suppose."

Loki's lips curled against my skin in a gentle smile and his arms wrapped a little tighter around me. "There's no need for that. I will never let you get hurt."

In this position, enwrapped in him both body and soul, it was easy to believe his words. I was not scared for myself, as such, anyway. If everything went according to plan, I would not even lay eyes on the Frost Giants and I also happened to know that I could hold my own against them.
The results could be disastrous, though - what if they managed to take the casket and made off with it? What if our father realized who had enabled their attack? What if all this ruse had no effect whatsoever - what if Thor became king and led all of us into destruction?

Given the uncertainty of the result, I should never have supported Loki in taking this risk. Perhaps I was not capable of not supporting Loki, though.

"You should go," Loki said, though he did not move an inch. "People will be all over the palace within the next half hour."

I hummed in response... I did not want to go. If I did not leave, perhaps time would stay put as well and we would not have to face the day. I would be happy to stay with him, in here, forever.
I extracted myself from his embrace and turned to press a kiss to his lips. "Be safe today," I said. "I love you too much to lose you."

He did not return the sentiment, but the sudden surge of affection inside him was enough answer for me. As much as I cursed our connection sometimes, it was probably the best thing that had ever happened to me.

Loki's prediction concerning the other people in the palace turned out to be exactly right. I had barely left and had only just returned to my own bed before the doors flew open again and my handmaidens poured in.

My dress did not look complicated to put on - it looked soft, all flowing pink fabric - but it took ages to make it sit right where it was supposed to. After getting into it, it was not supposed to shift on my body and it was therefore absolute torture to put it on. They pulled the straps tight and sewed sleeves on.

Despite rising early, I was almost late by the time that dress, hair and makeup were done. The women ushered me along until I was practically pushed into my mother, who was waiting in front of the back doors to the throne room.

"There you are," she said.

"Here I am," I answered. "Are we ready?"

She smiled wistfully. "Your brother is nervous," she told me. "He still needs a minute."

I raised an eyebrow at that. Thor rarely got nervous and when he did, he did not admit to it. He made up for it with a show of strength and he undoubtedly intended to do the same today. He would leave us waiting so he could make the pompous entrance he desired.
The thought left a sour taste in my mouth.

At my mother's gesture, the guards opened the large doors for us and we were greeted by the roar of the crowd already assembled.
The Warrior's Three were talking amongst each other, Fandral grinning at the crowd occasionally. Sif was standing next to Loki and the two were chatting as amicably as I thought was possible.

I had seen many a feast in the centuries of my existence, but I had never seen the hall so full - not even the intimidating stare of my Father's good eye could calm the crowd. I inclined my head slightly as my father's gaze turned to me. Perhaps it would be the last time that I would bow to him.

The moment that Thor entered was unmistakeable. The already high level of noise got suddenly deafening as the hammer shot out over the heads of the onlookers. Mother shook her head, but she was still smiling.
Thor emerged, catching Mjolnir effortlessly and turned with outstretched arms, relishing in the attention. My brother had never looked happier.

He arrived at the front - his weapon landed heavily beside him and then Thor was kneeling before our father. It was not a gesture of humility, not truly, at least if the wink he cast in my direction was anything to go by.
The crowd, so untamable before, fell silent when our father straightened to speak. I exchanged a glance with Loki, but his face was as blank as it could be. It could not be long, now, if he wanted to interrupt the process.

"Thor Odinson." Father's voice rolled through the hall like thunder. "My heir - my first born."

My eyes were still fixed on Loki and for once, the bitter twitch of his face was not concealed. I wished that I could have reached out for him, to comfort him, but our mother was standing between us and I did not want to draw attention to Loki's mood.

"So long entrusted," the Allfather continued. "With this mighty hammer, Mjolnir - forged in the heart of a dying star, from the sacred metal of Uru. Its power has no equal, as a weapon to destroy or as a tool to build. It is a fit companion for a king."

I shivered at the words. If only, I thought, the wielder had the wisdom to use it as it was supposed to.

"Do you swear," our father demanded. "To guard the Nine Realms? Do you swear to preserve the peace?"

Thor smiled broadly. "I swear!"

Across from me, Fandral started rubbing at his arms. In fact, as I looked around the hall, many people seemed to feel cold. My own shiver suddenly had a different connotation. I looked to Loki again, but he showed no sign of being cold.

The cold seemed not have reached our father and Thor, either, for they carried on with the ceremony undisturbed. "Do you swear to cast aside all selfish ambition and pledge yourself only to the good of all the realms?"

"I swear," Thor proclaimed.

My eyes fell on one of the large, golden banners that decorated the walls. It took me a long second to realize what I was seeing: ice was creeping along the fabric, spreading steadily across.

While my father was still attempting to proclaim Thor king, the attention of the hall focused on the spreading cold. I was not the only one to notice the ice.
People were pointing, whispering, some started to look panicked. My mother's mouth had dropped open as she noticed it.

Then our father noticed it as well. He fell silent in the middle of his sentence, his eye darting around to take in what everyone else had already seen.
He came to the right conclusion within seconds. "Frost Giants," he said and the entire hall erupted in chaos.

People started screaming and pressing for the doors. Guards pushed through, trying to keep the crowd at bay and trying to make way for my father.
He had risen from his throne and with Thor at his heels, was striding across the hall in grim hurry. Loki grabbed my arm for a hot second before he followed them.

"You stay right here," he said urgently and I nodded frantically.

Mother was wringing her hands together, her eyebrows drawn tight together. When she noticed my gaze, she reached out and pulled me to her. I clung to her arm, while the remainder of the guard assembled around us.
Most of the Einherjar had left with the king, but the queen and the princess were obviously to valuable to be left unattended.

People were still crying - one child had started as well, the high-pitched wail echoing even across the ruckus around it. Meanwhile, my eyes were still fixed on the ice-covered banners. Beneath them, the column was frosting as well.

What had we done? My heart was beating hard in my chest and the cold seemed not to be only outside, it seemed to be spreading inside me as well.
We were not much better than Thor, were we? Both Loki and I always complained how reckless he was and here we were, letting Jotuns into our halls, endangering our family, our friends, our people.

"Do you feel that?" Mother asked suddenly, shaking me gently.

As she said it, the ice drew back in front of us, crackling and then melting away. It disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. The hall grew suddenly quieter while the air warmed around us. The child stopped crying.
From below, as if from the belly of the palace, a dull clang sounded. It echoed in my ears even after the moment had passed.

The guard around us shifted and one of them turned to his comrade, whispering with obvious worry, "They are in the vault."

Mother sucked in a sharp breath at that, while I closed my eyes. Inwardly, I searched for Loki. It was so much harder to find him at the distance and so much harder to sort through what was his emotion and what was mine.
Half a year ago, it would have been impossible, but now I could find him and find him well. He was not concerned or frightened - in fact, he felt light with relief and triumph.

"How could they get in?" Mother whispered to me.
I had never seen her this unsettled. I had seen her worried and angry, I had seen her sad and disapproving. I had never seen my mother scared. In fact, I had not quite realized that she could be scared. My parents had always seemed as if nothing in these realms could shake them.

My stomach turned and I swallowed harshly to keep the bile from rising. Hurting our mother had never been on the agenda. Neither Loki nor I would ever want to hurt her.

The moment was gone as soon as it had come. My mother straightened, her features shifted into determination and she was queen once again. A mere wave of her hand, called the next guard over.
"Send for Heimdall," she ordered. "We have to know how they got in."

"Milady," the guard said. "We should wait for word of the king-"

"Which one?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "Whoever returns, and in whatever state, we need to hear Heimdall's account. Send for him, now."

I had thought it extremely courageous of the man to speak up in the first place - I would not have, not since she had used the voice that demanded unquestioning obedience - so it was not surprising when he nodded and hurried off at once.

"I'm sure they're fine," I told my mother.

The tightness in my chest lifted slightly when she smiled at me. It would have been nice to tell her that Loki was fine, that Thor and Father were undoubtedly fine as well, but it was not possible. She could not know about the merge, as she could not know about so many things were Loki and I were concerned.

"Of course they are," she said. "Our family consists of great warriors."

I nodded at her, but my answer was cut short. An immense satisfaction welled up inside of me, so intense that it took a long moment to figure out that it was not my happiness at all. Loki's heart had swelled with joy, but it was impossible to tell why.
The surge of emotion had me torn - it obviously meant that everyone was safe. Loki would never be this happy if one of them was hurt - but Loki's joy could be malicious and it could very well mean the unhappiness of another. Chances were, Loki's plan had worked.

I did not have to wait long to find out. Minutes later, guards poured into the now empty hall once more. Father strut in the middle, his features twisted with anger.

"My love!"
Mother rushed forward to greet him and he stopped in the middle of the hall. He did not look at her, his eye glaring at the throne, while the skin got pushed around the eye-patch.

"He's not ready," he growled. It was obviously meant to be a private conversation, but in his anger, my father could not keep his voice quiet enough to keep it so. "Our son's not ready to be king and I don't know if he will ever be."

So we finally stepped into the plot of the film! Please tell me what you think!