.

TWENTY-SIX

the coming madness

It was well over a week before I could find the energy to relish in the company of friends. And when I was physically able enough to wield a sword, Sif attempted to seize every moment of my free time to continue our lessons—her success in that endeavour varied. After the events that occurred in Svartalfheim, as well as the siege on Asgard, she declared that my skill with a blade required further honing. Thus, in the midday hours, I found myself quailing under her strength.

The sharp clang of our practice swords resounded throughout the courtyard and reverberated just as keenly through my head. It was not a sound I liked, I had discovered. It roused a great unease within me, enough to make my stomach churn. And yet, it was a sound that spurred me on, guiding my feet while I danced backwards from Sif. When I found an opening, I jabbed to her right. Though she dodged the attack, my sword struck the air a mere hairsbreadth from her waist.

Sif seemed to notice just the same, and she all but grinned for it. "You've shown great improvement, Eirlys."

I let out a breath that vaguely resembled a laugh. "Having to fend off one's demise time and again tends to sharpen one's reflexes."

Her grin grew wider. "Yes, there seems to be an overabundance of that." She came at me from the side, and I deflected her blow with a barrier, the bright blue flaring in the courtyard. "I must say, it's done wonders."

The compliment was significantly diminished when she caught me in the shoulder with a swift thrust. I winced and rubbed at the offended spot. "Perhaps not as much as I like."

I made my next swipe, which she blocked with her buckler shield. In retaliation, she set forth, executing a series of strikes in rapid succession, forcing me backwards inch by inch. I struggled to deflect her attacks, using my sword and magic alike. Her eyes shone as she slowed. "Be that as it may, it seems your near demise has brought you and Loki closer together."

The remark diverted my attention long enough for her to land a blow on my upper arm. I sighed inwardly. That will be black and blue by morning. Sidestepping around Sif, I fully enveloped myself in a barrier and refused to let my gaze stray from her. "To our misfortune, neither Odin nor the sorcerers of his council could inform us of the formidable force we may yet face," I told her. "So, we've taken to spending time investigating the magic involved in the siege."

And it was the truth. For the most part. We had indeed been scouring various tomes in an attempt to grasp the answers we sought—what I did not tell her was that we'd often done so in bed, texts and journals scattered all around us along with our clothes.

"You've spent virtually all of your free time with him, Eirlys." She poked at my magic shield reproachfully. "Dispel that. You'll drain yourself." When I let my barrier fall, she returned to the subject I desperately wished she would dispense with, "The two of you are always secreted away in some deserted corner of the palace. Don't tell me all you're doing is investigating."

My eyes immediately darted towards Fandral and Hogun who were currently in the midst of their own duel some yards from us. Thankfully, they hadn't been paying any heed to our exchange; if Fandral heard her line of inquiry, he would surely join in, and I would never hear the end of it.

The truth was something I could not share with her, as much as I wished I could. She was one of my dearest friends, and I didn't like the idea of keeping secrets from her. But I felt it necessary.

In the Asgardian court, it wasn't uncommon for unmarried Aesir to take on a lover. Nor was it considered improper, so long as they conducted themselves with civility. It was different in Vanaheim. The Vanir had a longstanding tradition of arranged marriages. Even Queen Frigga, the daughter of a Vanir nobleman, had her marriage to Odin arranged.

Among my people, to lie with another before being wed was generally considered a disgrace. My father, ever the traditionalist, no doubt held fast to that notion. I was comforted only by the fact that not all Vanir held such beliefs; Freya, the Goddess of Love and Beauty, certainly did not—one of multiple reasons that made her rather an outcast in Vanir society. Even if she could weather their scorn, I could not risk such contempt for the sake of my father and the honour of my family.

And so, I carried on with my lies. "I assure you, Sif," I said, swallowing thickly, "we've done little more than peruse an endless torrent of books. To no avail, mind you."

Posture slackening, Sif lowered her practice sword, the tip coming to a rest on the ground. Despite my being unable to voice anything with regards to my relationship with Loki, I hoped she understood. Knowing Sif, she's likely aware of more than she's letting on.

At the sound of the gate opening, her heed deviated from me. Peering over my shoulder, I squinted in the daylight to see the princes of Asgard entering the courtyard. As they crossed the field, I heard Fandral and Hogun cheer in greeting before returning to their battle. Although Thor grinned in their direction, he and Loki made their approach towards us.

The moment we met amidst the yard, Loki's gaze immediately fell upon me. "I see your prowess in battle could use further refining," he said, prodding the already burgeoning bruise on my arm.

I flinched and shot him a glare. "You best tread lightly, Loki. One day I may be skilled enough to best you in battle."

His eyes gleamed. "Is that a promise?"

With an unbridled smile, I gave him a short bow. "You have my word, my prince."

"Good Lady Sif, you are an unmerciful teacher." Thor gestured to the small bruises on my arms and the one bruise on the tender skin of my neck that was not of her doing. "No quarter given, isn't that right?"

She cast me a rueful look, to which I replied with the gentle shake of my head, absolving her of any wrongdoing. "I only teach what I have learned," she stated. "Bruises are lessons."

Thor's sudden grin was nothing short of radiant. "Then perhaps we should exchange a few lessons of our own?"

I doubted Sif had ever beamed greater than she did right then. "An opportunity to triumph over the Mighty Thor? I would be remiss to decline."

"We shall see about that," Thor said.

"Oh, thank the Norns." Twirling the practice sword in my hand, I proffered the hilt to Thor. "I've suffered enough bruising to both my flesh and my pride today."

Thor took the sword with a grateful nod, and I backed away to allow them ample fighting ground. They began circling one another with careful heed—Sif's movement was all grace and control, while Thor's steps were lumbering in comparison, the practice sword seeming awkward in his hold. He made the first attack, charging with an agility I oftentimes did not ascribe him. The sword might have seemed ungainly in his large hand, but that did not mean he could not wield it.

I averted my gaze from the duel when Loki came to my side. He touched my hand, his fingers sliding against my palm. "I have made some progress I thought you might like to see," he said.

"And what might that be?" I asked in return.

He glanced towards the courtyard gate. "Let us find a place where we may go undisturbed."

Nodding, I strode beside him, our boots treading over clumps of grass and dirt churned from our intensive sparring. As we neared the gate, I cast a look over my shoulder, wondering if Sif had taken notice that I was departing alongside Loki. She was much too occupied with Thor to return my glance, but this did not mean she hadn't made the observation.

Upon leaving the courtyard, we headed down the corridor and proceeded through the entrance hall. To my surprise, he led me up the grand steps and into the north wing instead of the royal apartment like I'd expected.

A small laugh escaped my lips. "For a moment there, I thought you meant for us to sneak away to your bedchamber."

The notion elicited a smirk from him. "Do not fret. There will be plenty of time for that later." When we turned a corner, passing by a number of Einherjar, Loki reached into the inside pocket of his surcoat and withdrew a folded piece of parchment. "This is what I thought you would be interested in seeing."

Taking the offered parchment, I unfurled it to read his sloping cursive script. My brow rose at a list comprised of twenty or so items. Among them, I recognized the Casket of Ancient Winters, the Tesseract, the Eternal Flame, and several others. The rest held no meaning to me, but I did not doubt they were of equal significance. "Relics in the vault, I presume?"

Loki nodded. "Everything that has ever found its way into my father's chamber of treasures, past and present. It required a bit of time and research to compile, seeing that it's not exactly public knowledge."

We neared the entryway to the vault where a dozen Einherjar stood on either side, none of whom gave us even the barest of glances. When Loki and I trod the first steps, the dark, towering visage of the stairwell instilled a strange unease in me. I hesitated, peering into the shadows below. A growing discomfort swirled in my mind, like a terrible premonition that I could not perceive—the recollection of some half-remembered dream.

Noticing that I'd stalled, Loki looked around and grabbed my hand. I blinked, rising from an unfathomable reverie. "I just had the strangest sense that I... remembered something I had forgotten, but I don't know what it is."

That earned me a skeptical look. "Did Sif hit you over the head with a practice sword?"

As I had done often of late, I let out an exasperated sigh. "No, I suspect it is no more than a symptom of my consistently disrupted sleep. It has a peculiar effect on my mind." Tugging my hand from his, I descended further into the depths of Asgard. "Let us continue. I'm sure the All-Father would not appreciate having us linger in the vault for so long."

He came down the stairs, matching my stride. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. My father doesn't know we've ventured down here."

I slowed and lifted a brow. "But the Einherjar... oh, of course." He's made us invisible to their eyes. My gradual realization garnered a smile from him. "For once, I think I'm beginning to enjoy your tricks."

We travelled further down, the sounds of our footfalls growing softer as we emerged from the stairwell. As it had the first time, the sight of the massive hollow in which the vault was located drew my breath away. Meandering down another long flight of stairs, we eventually sidled through the bronze double doors, and none of the guards were any wiser.

Unlike our first visit, the relics within the vault now sat upon their perches in perfect order. I followed Loki down the last set of stairs, and we paced the length of the vault, between the numerous objects of power. At the very end of the span, the Casket sat atop its pedestal, the blue churning endlessly within.

I looked to reread Loki's list and frowned. "So, you think Nalak could've been looking for any one of these objects? Objects that are currently not housed within the vault, of course." I gave a cursory glance at the relics that remained: among them sat the Eternal Flame, a strange eye made of glass and stone, and an obelisk etched with runes. "Do you suppose we could narrow down the possibilities?"

"That was the idea." He gestured to the wide bowl holding what I knew to be the Eternal Flame. "The Flame remains untouched. At the least we know Surtur hasn't risen from the depths of Midgard."

"I'm quite certain we would have noticed if that happened." I wandered further into the vault, feeling oddly like a thief in the night for being in some place I wasn't supposed to be. The pedestal at the end of the gallery stood proud, bearing the Casket of Ancient Winters atop its head. "How can we be so sure the Casket wasn't their true goal? Nalak may have been ignorant to wielding it, but that simply tells us that he did not want it for himself."

I reached out towards the faintly shimmering blue, its magic pulsing as my fingertips neared. From behind me, Loki grasped my wrist, his chest pressed to my back. "Do not touch the centre of the Casket," he said. "You'll burn yourself."

I glanced up at him, chagrinned. "Sorry. Curiosity got the better of me."

He hummed in amusement, sidling around to stand at my side, my hand never leaving his. "As I said once, it does not seem like the Frost Giants to ask for help."

"But that does not mean someone wouldn't seek to broker a deal with the Jotuns."

The suggestion had him raising a brow. "That does seem more plausible. After all, those monsters would never pass up the chance to repossess the Casket."

My brow furrowed. "Monsters?"

He let out a chuff of laughter, as if he hadn't meant to say the word. "An old habit," he remarked. "The Frost Giants often take the role of the frightening, monstrous villains in many a bedtime story."

Crossing my arms, I couldn't help but smile. "In my household, we were told stories of the covetous Aesir who sought to control our magic, an ambition that ultimately resulted in a war," I said. With a nod, he gave me an almost rueful smile in return. "Of course, such events led to the unification of our people. But that never stopped my father from reliving his days of glory. He tended to talk about the Aesir-Vanir war more than the last great war with the Jotuns."

"Then we shall see to it that another war does not come to pass," Loki told me. "My brother would have us wage war on the remaining Dark Elves."

"It could hardly be called a war." I turned slightly to peer down the gallery, in the direction of the stairs. It had been weeks since the attack on Asgard, but I could not forget the haunting images of death and destruction born from that day. It had not been a war, no, but it definitely felt like one. "It has often been said that your grandfather laid waste to the Dark Elves, that they were wiped from the Nine Realms. But they forget the few who remain. They stand on the brink of extinction—to go to war with them would be little more than genocide."

"They are the enemy." Shifting on his heel, Loki started back down the vault. "I don't think my brother is particularly concerned about the preservation of a race. He would have his war."

"You do not agree with him?"

Loki stopped, his gaze passing over the rune-etched obelisk sitting within one of the crevices. "I have more interest in discovering the true culprit," he replied. "Though Nalak may have led the attack, it's highly doubtful that he orchestrated it." Eyes narrowed, he looked back at me. "But we can be confident that he knows the identity of the one who did."

I upturned a hand and shook my head. "That may be so, but a fortnight of interrogation has not gained you anything." On more than one occasion, Loki and Thor had gone into the dungeon to procure information from Nalak and the other prisoners. Despite their continued efforts, not one of the Dark Elves spoke. "Even you, with your silver tongue, could not get Nalak to talk."

He was quick to smirk at that. "Yes, well, I suspect he's taken to ignoring us. We must be such a bore with all our threats."

"Have you offered him a treaty? Some sort of bargain, perhaps?" Letting my arms fall to my sides, I drew nearer to him. "His freedom in exchange for a name."

"My father would never allow his release," Loki said, offhandedly.

"Nalak doesn't have to know that."

With the tilt of his head, he turned towards me and trailed his fingers along my curls. "I quite like how you think." He let his thumb trace the column of my throat, grazing the small bruise Nalak had left there before letting his arm fall back to his side. "Unfortunately, he's not responded to any incentives presented by us."

"By you, perhaps." Lifting a brow, I grasped his hand. He gave me an inquisitive look. "You are the Lie-Smith. I can't imagine he'd be very receptive to anything you say."

"I doubt he'd be receptive to any among us."

"Then perhaps a neutral party is in order."

He smiled and levelled his gaze with mine. "Like you?"

My heart dropped at the notion. I'd been rather content with the knowledge that I'd never have to face Nalak or the Dark Elves again. They'd played a hand in my near death—the numerous instances of my near death. Not to mention they'd often been featured in the scenarios of my nightmares. The deaths I'd wrought were theirs, something that continued to weigh upon me, though it had faded over time.

"Me?" I said, incredulous. "I'm not sure I can claim to be a neutral party."

"But you would appear as a sympathetic figure," he reasoned. "He might be more inclined to heed your overtures."

For all of Loki's insistence, I was not entirely convinced it would work. On the other hand, I knew we had to try something. After so long, we'd become devoid of all other options—aside from torture, but that was something I knew Odin would not condone. Perhaps taking the opposite approach would yield the answers we continued to pursue. Perhaps drowning Nalak in courtesies might rouse words from him. And to have those courtesies come from me, a prisoner to whom he showed no courtesy, could prompt a response. I knew it would not cause harm to try. Either he would answer, or he would not.

Heaving a sigh, I conceded with a nod. "You may be right. There is a chance our incessant prattling will move him to respond."

He paused briefly before saying, "Then I must have words with my father. If we are to garner the truth from Nalak, he will have to approve of this venture."

"He may think it a foolish venture, but not one to cause damage." I let go of his hand and laid my palm to his chest, savouring the feel of his steady heartbeat. "In the meantime, I believe I promised your mother that I would meet her in the healing room by noonday. I am to learn how to treat jorgandr venom burns." A shudder ran down my spine. "Unpleasant creatures those serpents are. I would be content to never see one again."

There was an insufferable gleam in his eye. "Ah yes. I'm fairly certain no one has ever screamed at the sight of a newborn snake like you did."

By the sheer power of will, I refrained from rolling my eyes. Instead, I prodded him in the chest. "It was not just any newborn snake. You conjured the illusion of a jorgandr—in my bed, no less," I said. "When you're afflicted by one of them, you won't find it so amusing anymore."

Hardly even bothered by my jab, he clasped my hand, his long fingers wrapping around mine. I shivered at his touch, something he surely noticed. "You best be on your way. The noonday hour approaches." In the quiet cold of the vault, he kissed me, his free hand sliding up my back to pull me against him.

When we separated, I tugged lightly on one of his lapels. "I'll be dining with your mother afterwards. I am unlikely to see you until long after sundown."

He knew exactly what I was alluding to. "Shall we meet in your bedchamber or mine?"

"Mine, of course. You are infinitely better at stealing through the corridor unnoticed."

With that, we started back down the aisle and ascended from the heart of Asgard.

Our journey into the vault did not produce the answers we had hoped it would. Yet it did supply us with several clues, even if they were not significant ones. Verily, the Dark Elves had attempted to take the Casket, but that did not account for the frantic disarray they'd left behind. In spite of having been able to narrow down our list by a few items, we could not infer what they were truly looking for. Only Nalak could tell us that now.

It was several days before Odin granted us access to the prison in which the Dark Elves were being confined. I'd been told that when the option was weighed, no others presented themselves. Thus, with the All-Father having little other choice in the matter, he gave his consent.

Once he gave his word, we climbed beneath the realm to uncover the truth we desperately chased.

The dungeons lay deep below the palace, its depths second only to the vault itself. They were cavernous and dark, stone and magic caging Asgard's prisoners. It reminded me of every cavern we'd journeyed through, cold and shadowy; it was a wonder that anyone could live in such conditions. Though I supposed it could hardly be called living.

As we paced its stone-lined corridors, I shivered and waved my hand, casting a spell to ward off the chill. Thor had decided to accompany us, and it was he who led the way, his shoulders tense and his fists clenched. He hopes Nalak will give him the name of the quarry upon which he will unleash his rage, I thought. While I did not like the idea of further conflict, I could not blame him for his desire. Death was not a common hardship among the Aesir, therefore it was suffered more deeply. To have so many slain while under his protection, I understood Thor's wrath.

I slowed to match my stride with Loki's. His gaze was focussed on the distance, his eyes appearing unseeing. I inclined my head towards him with the lift of my brow. "You have something on your mind, Loki."

He glanced my way, his expression contemplative. "As you know, I have been studying a number of the weapons the Dark Elves brought with them—not the vibranium blades, but the magic staves," he said. "They are not unlike the magic-binding chains they used to detain us. Despite their power, they both appear prototypical; the magic is flawed and incomplete."

I narrowed my eyes, attempting to discern his meaning. "You mean to say someone is creating these magical devices? Testing them?" Just as they had tested us, if we'd been right to assume as much.

"And yet they let them fall into our hands, along with the Dark Elves. Not only does that suggest great power, but also an ability to squander resources without care," Loki remarked. "If we discover the one who orchestrated this siege, what do you suppose we do?"

He moved further ahead of me to speak directly to Thor, "You've seen how badly our warriors were wounded. Who's to say this individual doesn't have more powerful weapons in their keep?"

"It matters not," Thor said gruffly over his shoulder. "We must discover the truth of the matter. Whether it be the Dark Elves or some other entity, they shall be made to pay for their crimes. I will go after them myself."

"Thor, we need to take careful consideration." Sidling forward to stand in front of his brother, Loki brought us to a halt. "If we do locate the instigator of all of this, it would be best to proceed with caution. Assuming what they're capable of, their might would be beyond even us. We could not take them in battle. It would be a foolish risk."

"Remember your place, Brother. That is not for you to decide." Although Loki stiffened, Thor simply gestured down the hall, in the direction of the cell block where the Dark Elves were being kept. "We cannot have the Nine Realms believing a strike against Asgard will go unpunished."

"Neither is it for you to decide," Loki retorted.

Thor brushed past him. "One day it will be."

When he continued down the corridor, I exchanged a look with Loki. The cold glimmer of ire in his gaze was plain to me; I'd been on the receiving end of such a look more than once. I was not surprised to see his brother's reckless abandon roused a similar frustration in him. "Give him time." I reached out to lay my hand on Loki's arm. "He still burns from the deaths of many a warrior. You know he means well."

He said nothing. Nevertheless, the unease seeped away, the tension in the muscles beneath my fingers loosening. With the shake of his head, Loki touched my hand briefly before striding in his brother's wake.

Travelling deeper into the dungeon, we came upon numerous doors lining the lefthand side of the lengthy corridor. At each entry stood a pair of Einherjar. We passed through one such entranceway and descended into the ward in which every Dark Elf prisoner was being kept.

Twelve cells occupied the chamber, every one large enough to contain half a dozen individuals. Within the four enclosures nearest to the door, there sat a score of Dark Elves. Some of them slumped against the walls, ensconced in the corners of their cells. Several lay curled on the floor. Some sat straight and tall, appearing as though they were attempting to cling onto the last vestiges of their pride.

We strode past a multitude of detainees before coming to the cell at the far end of the row to our left. It was identical to the rest, furnished with little more than a chamber pot and a poorly cushioned cot. The lone occupant sat, reposed in the corner: a Dark Elf coiled in on himself, head ducked, arms wound around his legs. Without the regal bearing he so often feigned, I could scarcely recognize Nalak.

I glanced at Thor, his temper seemingly placated by the expectation of answers. He gave me a prompting look, urging me to take the initiative. "Lord Nalak." Clearing my throat, I lowered myself into a crouch, inching as close to the golden sheen of magic as I would dare. Loki minimized the distance between us, his body taut and at the ready. "I am certain you remember me."

He didn't react.

"I simply wish to develop an understanding," I told him. "We have surmised that you are not responsible for the attack on Asgard—at least, not you alone." I chewed on my bottom lip, waiting for some sort of reply only to be given none. "Someone sent you here with no thought to your lives. Yet you refuse to apprise us of their name. Are you trying to protect them? Is that the reason why you have not spoken? You must be very loyal."

There was still no response. Rubbing at my brow, I let out a short breath. The conversation I'd had with Loki in the vault stood out in my mind, and I hoped Nalak would be more inclined to consider my false promises over that of the God of Mischief and Lies. "You have been in captivity for weeks, and to what end?" I asked. "We would be more than happy to bestow a great boon upon you." I paused to peer at Loki before executing the lie. "Should you tell us who sent you, we shall grant freedom to you and your clan mates."

Nalak seemed to shift at my proposal; the movement was so subtle, I wasn't entirely sure if I'd seen it.

I cast a look at Loki again. The slight tilt of his head suggested that I hadn't imagined the sudden discomfort in Nalak's demeanour. Could it be the mere notion of freedom that makes him so ill at ease? "We are not like you, Nalak. We are not in the habit of keeping our captives in unpleasant conditions such as this," I said—another lie. I knew the Asgardians would keep their captives in the dungeons for centuries if they had to. "Containing you here serves no one. Perhaps... perhaps we should set you free regardless."

"No!" I rose to my full height when Nalak lifted his head and faced me straight on. "If you let me go, I would be subjected to a fate worse than death."

"Then tell us who sent you," Thor demanded. He straightened, his already striking figure seeming larger and more formidable in the soft glow of the magic enclosure. "We will protect you. You will be safe within these walls."

Launching to his feet, Nalak shot across the cell and slammed his fists against the golden barrier. I staggered backwards and would've tripped on the steps if Loki hadn't caught me round the waist. My heart raced as I stared into Nalak's wild, fearful eyes. "You Asgardians understand nothing." In his prison, he stepped back and stood tall, looking a little more like the clan leader he'd been, the Dark Elf who commanded the respect of his followers. "No one is safe from the Mad Titan."

Before we could question him any further, he returned to his corner, curling himself into a tight ball.

"Do not turn your back on us." Thor's voice all but thundered throughout the cell block. "I would know who the Mad Titan is."

Nalak was very still now, so still that I had to scrutinize him very carefully to ensure he continued to draw breath.

Incensed, Thor thrashed the barrier, waves of gold rippling beneath his fists. "Who is the Mad Titan? Tell us!"

"Thor, stop." Loki clutched onto his brother's shoulder, as if to pull him back. "He's not going to tell us any more than he already has."

Thor shrugged off Loki's grasp. With a final scowl at the Dark Elf clan leader, he turned away and started down the corridor from which we'd arrived.

Letting out a long breath, Loki surveyed me, one of his hands resting on my waist. "Are you all right?"

"I'm perfectly fine." An unpleasant heat crawled across the nape of my neck. "He merely startled me, nothing more."

Although Nalak remained wound in on himself, I could hear him chuckling at my momentary lack of poise. Loki shot him a look cold enough to rival the frigid hilltops of Nidavellir. When it became clear that Nalak would provide no further information or mockery, Loki tugged gently on my hand, drawing me away to follow Thor's example and escape the confines of the dungeon.

As we climbed the stairs to exit the icy underground, I could not refrain from asking, "What will happen to Nalak?"

Brow furrowed, Loki glanced my way, likely wondering why I had any regard for the wellbeing of a Dark Elf who wouldn't have bestowed even the barest courtesy upon me. "He'll be imprisoned here indefinitely," he replied. "The fate of Nalak's clan—or whatever remains of it—is in the hands of my father now."

Reaching the height of the stair, we found Thor awaiting us a short distance from the dungeon entrance. He appeared calm—far calmer than he'd been moments ago, at the least. "We must find this 'Mad Titan,'" Thor insisted. "This crime is his, as is the punishment."

"Could it be possible that this singular entity... this titan supplied them with all the weapons and magic they utilized these past weeks?" I wondered.

"I know not." Jaw clenched, Thor looked to Loki. "We must tell Father. He may know of whom Nalak speaks."

"Doubtful," Loki replied. "Even I have never heard of a being called 'the Mad Titan' before."

"Our father would have us bring this to him, nevertheless," Thor said.

"He may yet know. Or perhaps the leaders of the other worlds will." With one hand I propped up an elbow while tapping my bottom lip with the other. "You should tell the All-Father how Nalak reacted to the proposition. We did little more than suggest his freedom. It is a strange thing to cause distress in a captive, is it not?"

With a nod, Thor patted my shoulder. "Indeed, we shall tell him. Not only that, but Nalak seemed quite... disturbed."

"Something has him rather terrified. A being known as 'the Mad Titan' would be my first guess." With a wry expression, Loki shifted his regard from me to Thor. "Shall we go now, Brother? Father has no doubt concluded his council."

Thor simply grunted in agreement, his gaze straying towards the dungeon entrance one last time. If he could have, he would have marched back down into the dungeon to retrieve the answers he craved. I was certain that he would go to great lengths to obtain words from Nalak, even if it meant hammering them out of him. Yet, he had to have known as well as I that the All-Father would not approve.

"You have our thanks, Eirlys," Thor said with the gracious bow of his head. "Having you accompany us bore fruit, as small as it might be."

"Of course," I replied. "I would never object to offering my assistance."

Loki neared as if to touch my arm, but he saw fit to refrain. My eyes found his, and I tried not to give the slightest indication that I'd noticed. We'd agreed to keep our involvement with one another private. Admittedly, we'd been rather heedless of how successful we were in the matter.

"We shall see you at supper," he said. "Perhaps we will know our father's final decision with regards to the Dark Elves by then." His gaze darted towards Thor who was observing us keenly, eyes narrowed. Fear at the thought that he discerned the truth of our relationship gripped me, but Loki spoke before his suspicions could be roused any further, "Let us confer with Father. He will be expecting us."

Standing back, I exchanged parting words with Thor and watched as the sons of Odin took their leave. As the two strode down the hall, Thor cast a glimpse at me and murmured something to Loki before they disappeared around the corner.

It was not lost on me that our friends could easily perceive the intimacy of my relationship with Loki. That did not stop me from attempting to maintain secrecy, never even alluding to it, as if I were afraid the whole Nine Realms would know if I admitted it aloud. And there was nothing more I feared than my father's condemnation.

In the quiet moments of the night, I could forget. Wrapped in Loki's arms, I could revel in him without a care. But it did little to stamp out that underlying apprehension. My future remained shrouded, even to me. In spite of all that had happened and all the time I'd spent in Asgard, my prospects were daunting. I was my father's daughter, the daughter of the Lord High Steward. My hand in marriage was always meant for politics, not love.

Yet, I clung onto a hope. Hope that such a need would never arise, that I would be left free of the duties often placed upon maidens of my standing. Of late, my mother's words resounded in my head more often than not: home is where you are loved most. And Asgard had become my home. I would have been content to remain in the Realm Eternal for the rest of my days, Loki at my side. For I knew in my heart that I loved him.

Author's Note: Dun dun dunnnn. At last it has been revealed that the Mad Titan is behind all these shenanigans.

Also, apologies for the delay! Hopefully the long chapter length makes up for the wait. The next chapter will also be lengthy—if I remember correctly, it should also be one of the longest chapters. Unfortunately, it'll probably be two weeks (or more) before I update again since I have several gatherings to cook/bake for and attend this coming week, as well as a new assignment. However, by the time the new year comes around, I should be able to update weekly once more.

As always, my stupendous beta, Hr'awkryn, has my undying gratitude. Special thanks to everyone who reviewed, favourite and followed as well! You've all been so wonderful and supportive.

To guest reviewer Sofia121: Thank you very much :) And, no, I don't mind you asking. My age is probably one of the few personal details I have no problems sharing. I'm happy to say that I'm past my teenage years and am now the ripe old age of twenty-three.

To guest reviewer Guest: Thank you. I really appreciate you taking the time to review. And I'm honoured that my story was the first Thor fanfiction you've ever read—welcome to the fandom!

My dear readers, I wish you all a merry Christmas and a marvellous new year!

Happy holidays.