Chapter 2

My dearest Sigrid,

I write you today with much overdue good news. Our efforts to root out the remaining Vanir traitors are almost complete. Tensions have lessened amongst the people and a tide has begun to turn. It seems that they have forgotten the ways of the prejudiced and will soon be ready to accept you as their princess. I would suspect it should not be long now before a visit home is on the horizon.

My dear, your patience and grace has not gone unnoticed by me. I know the centuries have been trying, and your heart aches for the day we will be reunited at home. All I can do is ask you for a little more faith and send you all my love.

Sigrid smiled down at the half-read parchment in front of her. Letters were the main means of communication between her and her father, and whilst they were often delivered with some frequency, the past few months had been few and far between. And yet, this letter somehow made up for it. Her eyes lingered on the little word he had used but twice; home. It made her grin widen. She had long accepted Asgard as her home—how could she not when she was being looked after by the Allmother and the Allfather—but not being able to return to her place of birth always left a void in her heart.

That did not mean she was ungrateful for the life that had been bestowed on her. Frigga, the Queen, had slipped into the role of a second mother without having to be asked. She raised Sigrid from a young girl into a woman alongside her own sons, both of whom had grown into fine men over the centuries. Thor, the elder of the two, had long begun regarding her as the younger sister he never had. He protected her as fiercely as he shielded his brother, although with arguably less teasing and jest.

Sigrid had also managed to pick up some friends along the way, courtesy the two princes. There were many as the years passed, notably the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif, the latter of whom was walking next to her down the palace corridors. Her ferocity in battle was unmatched, and it coupled with her beauty and high-born standard to give her the well-deserved title of a warrior maiden.

"Why are you smiling like that?" inquired Sif with a toss of her sleek ponytail.

"It must be a letter from her prince," chimed a new voice. It belonged to Ingrid, her youngest lady in waiting. The girl had been born a bastard to a high lord who was already married without a care for the consequences of his actions. He had cast the girl and her mother aside for years until Sigrid heard the story from one of the Queen's ladies over tea. The girl was too old to be a ward, yet young and pretty, so Sigrid had taken her on as a lady.

"The letter is not from Loki," Sigrid informed her, rolling up the paper and securing the seal. There was quite a bit to read, and she decided it would be best to do so in the privacy of her own bedroom.

"I never specified which prince." Ingrid's lips quirked up in a teasing smile. The nonchalance in her tone did nothing except add to Sigrid's exasperation, although it was not the first time such an implication had been made. Whilst Thor was like a bother, Loki was her closest friend. Try as she might, she could not come to think of the raven-haired prince in a sibling-like manner. To her, he was always just Loki.

"You…" Sigrid reached out to grab the girl's ear — lightly, of course—only for her to duck away in a whirl of red hair. Sif just let out a laugh. "Your jest, whilst usually appreciated, is not needed now. Go find Agathe and see if she can't find something for you to do. Lest you mock me the entire day." Ingrid gave a small curtsy before skipping down the corridors.

"I've always liked her," Sif commented with a grin. "Tis a shame about her father. Odin knows she's better off with you." Sigrid could not help but agree.

"She's awfully resilient. A bit talkative at times, but it's a welcome distraction from the monotony that has fallen in Loki's absence." The duo paused at the balcony, both leaning over the banister to look out over the training area. They had both visited it earlier for their weekly sparring match. She appreciated the exercise and the ability it gave her to defend herself, but violence had never been her high on her list of likes. Sigrid preferred to talk things out, to understand the opposing side rather than see who could shed more blood. And she was getting quite good at verbal navigation thanks to her silver-tongued best friend.

"And the barrage of unwanted compliments and advances of all the men trying to be the next king of Vanaheim," Sif added. "Although they seem to keep their distance when Thor or Loki are with you." Sigrid's face faltered, only for a second, but it was enough for Sif's to fill with concern. "Have I said something to upset you?"

"It's not you," Sigrid admitted, holding up the letter, "it's my father. He wrote to me."

Sif placed her hand on Sigrid's free one. "This is good! I know how upset you've been seeing as he has not visited in a while. What did he say?"

"He-Oof!" As she was explaining, a bony figure ran straight into her shoulder. It caught her so off guard that she pitched forward towards the banister. Sif, with her battle-hardened reflexes, righted her with one strong grip. "Excuse me!"

Two women stood before her, neither of whom she recognized. They were both dressed in fine clothing that betrayed their high stations. They were polar opposites, the women, one tall with dark brown hair and eyes and skin and the other shorter, possessing the typical Aesir traits of fair hair and blue eyes. The latter regarded her with disinterest.

"Have you no sense of direction?" Sif wanted to know. "You almost knocked the princess over the balcony!"

"Many apologies, princess," spoke the taller woman. "I am Lady Hilda." Her slender hand raised to point at the girl next to her, and Sigrid could see the dark fingers were adorned with numerous jeweled rings. "This is Lady Eva."

"So very pleased to meet you, princess." Lady Eva's eyes had not left Sigrid's, and something about her detached greeting made the hair on her neck rise.

It was no surprise that Sigrid did not trust people with ease How could she when her own countrymen had turned on her? The entire ordeal had left her with a complex when meeting new people, one that she had actively worked to overcome. Yet, despite her efforts, she could not help the alarm bells the fair-haired woman set off in her head. There was something about her that grated Sigrid's very soul.

"It's okay," she addressed the two women, although Eva had yet to apologize. "It was an accident. But do tell me where you are hurrying too. It must be important for you to have veered off the walkway."

The only indication that her subtle sarcasm had been noted was a tightening of Lady Eva's eyes. Hilda, however, gave a sheepish smile. "Again, so sorry, princess. We've heard that the princes are soon to return. We were on our way to our rooms."

Both Sif and Sigrid glanced at each other. "The princes?" Sif echoed. "They're back from Alfheim?"

"On their way back," Lady Hilda corrected, in a kind fashion. "My father is an advisor to the King and they've just received word. Prince Thor and Prince Loki were successful in their endeavors. There is to be a celebration in their names tonight!" She stopped to clap her hands together excitedly. "Oh, we must get ready!"

"You must," Sigrid agreed, sharing a knowing look with Sif. Hilda was of no danger. She was just another girl who enthralled by the palace and its offerings, and maybe hoped to get the attentions of one of the princes.

"It was nice to meet you, princess." Hilda bowed and took ahold of her friend's arm. "Have a lovey day."

"Same to you." Hilda walked off, dragging Eva behind her, and it was only when she rounded the corner did Sigrid release the breath she was holding. "Well, there's yet another hopeful for the hand of one of the princes. I think she'd go for Thor, though. Loki would grow quite irritated with her enthusiasm."

"In that case I hope she goes for him." Sif's words were bitter. She reached up to grab the ends of her hair, seemingly lost in thought.

Sigrid watched her with a raised eyebrow. "You've not yet forgiven him for cutting your hair," she deduced.

Sif's eyes snapped to hers. "If you're going to defend him-"

"I'm not." Sigrid raised her hands in surrender. The loss of Sif's hair had less to do with the length, and more to do with the colour change. Whatever Loki had done transformed the previously golden locks to a deep, chocolate brown. He had claimed it was not intentional, merely a side effect of his magic, but Sif would not hear it. She had thoroughly and effectively thrashed the prince before bestowing some choice words. Loki had told Sigrid all about it the day after during their walk in the gardens.

"Good." Sif nodded brightly. "Because you do that a lot, you know? And forgive me for saying this, but I'm afraid he does not always deserve it." The brunette beauty shook her head. "Valhalla knows how someone like him was able to obtain a friend like you."

Sigrid gave a rueful smile. It was a comparison she had heard a thousand times over. Save for their quietness and inclination towards books, she and Loki could not be more different. She was a princess by all standards— just, respectable and never without kindness. He was the long-proclaimed God of Mischief, and deceit was his forte.

In the early days, their close friendship was met with a lot of weird looks. Many had thought she would cling to Thor. He was, in their eyes, the better choice. Instead, the strange little princess from the neighboring realm had gone and chosen the introverted, ball of angst that was the younger son of the crown.

"Loki is not only what he appears to be," she said. "There are many other sides of him he chooses not to show to the public."

Sif blew out air from between her cheeks. "I wish he would appear far away from me at all times. He's annoying. I've no idea how you stand him. You're so good."

"He is a good man. I would not have been his friend had I thought the opposite." Sif made a face, but said nothing. "Although, it is easy for me to say that considering I've never faced his ire. I must be lucky."

"Yes. Lucky." Sif teased.

"Oh, hush." Sigrid gave her friend a good-natured bump with her hip, and tugged her down the hall. "Half of Asgard already makes such assumptions. I'll not have you make them too."

ooOOoo

Evening brought the palace celebrations into full swing. There was already a crowd of persons there on any given day, but that always tripled in number for events. The throne room was lined with adoring Asgardians vying for a rare glimpse at the royal family in all their glory. Some-the more important ones like noblemen and advisors- were sitting in the boxes strategically placed in a semi-circle high above the crowds. Each allowed for smaller groups to gather, and one, right in the middle, held Sigrid and her ladies.

"I don't know what it is about her," she was saying to Agathe, "but I don't trust her. I've never even seen either of them before today."

Agathe's grey eyes were wide with understanding. "She must be the daughter of a dignitary or nobleman. You know how often they come and go. It's not too much of a surprise that today was your first time seeing her. But if you're not sure, you can always ask the palace gossip."

"I am not a gossip!" exclaimed Ingrid from her position near the banister. She was leaning so far over Sigrid was afraid she may fall into the crowd below. "I just happen to have a lot of relevant information pertaining to a lot of people in the castle. Now point her out this 'Lady Eva', if you please."

Sigrid leaned forward off the couch a bit. Her eyes searched the visible crowd below, then shifted to the boxes on either side. "I don't think I- There! The one in the pink dress next to Lord Erik."

"Hmm…" Ingrid tilted her head, studying the girl. After a while, she turned back to the older women. "I don't know who she is."

"How shocking," Agathe whispered in mock horror.

"But I will find out for you, princess. Some of the other ladies are bound to know."

Trumpets sounded through the air, announcing the arrival of the king and queen. The sound went through Ingrid like a firework, causing the younger girl to vibrate with excitement. She knew, as did everyone, that Thor and Loki would soon approach. "Thank you, Ingrid, now go find your friends and enjoy the party. I've no further need of your services tonight."

"Thank you, princess!" Ingrid gave a wide beam and made to leave. "You are truly themost kind."

"That one is trouble," Agathe said, "but I am fond of her. A little more discipline and she'll be a fine lady."

"She's already a fine lady," Sigrid corrected, noting the way Agathe's eyes were heavy with fatigue, "as are you. But you are also my friend, and as your friend I think I can tell you that you look dead on your feet. Is Anni better at all?"

Agathe sighed. She, like Ingrid, had an unusual entrance into palace employment. Born a peasant girl, Agathe had lived a simple life and entered an arranged marriage. Her husband-a young man in the guard-had been killed in war, leaving her alone and heavily pregnant. Sigrid had happened upon her during a walk in town with Sif. She was attempting to steal fruit from a vendor when someone alerted the vendor to her thievery. The two women intervened and managed to prevent her from losing her hand. A few months later, she had given birth and begun working as her lady.

"She's better, but I still worry. I only left for a few hours because she's asleep and I know I've been scarce. I apologize-"

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Agathe. Your child is sick. Any mother worth her salt would be beside herself." She gave her a small smile. "Now I insist you take the night off as well."

"Sigrid, I can't leave you all alone," Agathe protested. "Ingrid is off Odin knows where and your usual entourage is absent. I'm staying."

"You're going. Thor and Loki will be here soon and I'll join them for the celebrations. I won't be alone." Agathe still looked unsure, so Sigrid let a hint of authority bleed into her voice. "I insisted but I'll command if I have too."

Agathe smiled ruefully. "Thank you, princess."

Once Agathe was gone, Sigrid walked over to the balcony. It was tall enough for her to place her elbows on and lean over, surveying the scene below. Odin was at the head of the room, Frigga taking her usual place beside him. He addressed the room in his low tones, voice as regal as the first day she had met him so long ago. He was much older now, the age showing on his face and in his one good eye, yet the way in which he commanded respect never changed.

"… and I am pleased to welcome home my sons, Prince Thor, and Prince Loki." The crowd erupted in cheers, practically beside themselves as the princes came down the aisle.

Thor came out bold, as always, cutting a striking figure in his red cape. He swung Mjolnir around like a toy, hyping up the crowd for his return. He truly did love the attention he got from the people, and they loved giving it to him. Thor Odinson was their light prince, who commanded thunder and lightning and always provided an entertaining show. And who didn't love a show?

But to Sigrid, flashiness was not the be all. She much preferred the entrance of the younger prince. His stride was graceful at his brother's side, waving at the crowd in gentle motions. His back was to her, but she assumed he was wearing his trademark smirk. Unlike his brother, he carried no weapon and his colours were mute save for the golden horns that sat atop his head. Loki loved his helm. Much thought and care had gone into the design, and Sigrid made sure to confer an equal amount of teasing upon seeing the finished product.

It was only when he took his place at the steps of the throne did, he turn so his face was visible. Sigrid propped her chin on steepled fingers as she took him in. It was true that he was not broad or as muscular as his brother or father, nor did he share their familiar fair hair. Instead, his was as black as night, curling at the ends when he let it get too long. His facial structure was all high cut cheek bones and sharp jawline as opposed to the more rugged face of Thor. Even his frame was different; slender, paired with long limbs and arguably the most elegant hands she had ever seen on a man.

The only resemblance she saw were the mannerisms between himself and his mother. The way he spoke, how he carried himself. The little smirk before a mischievous act. The way he waved his hands to cast his seidr instead of flicking his wrist like the long hand of clock. It all came together to make him truly unique.

"If you like staring at me so much I can always have a portrait made."

Sigrid whirled around. Loki was standing before her, a little smirk playing on his lips as he took in her confusion. "What?" She turned towards to throne again, only to see that Loki was indeed standing there next to his brother as his father droned on. As if sensing her, his eyes slid up to hers to give a little wink. Sigrid let out a sigh. "You and these damned illusions."

"And here I was thinking you'd be glad to see me," Loki mocked hurt. "Would my princess prefer if I'd returned to the front of the crowd? Or maybe back to Alfheim for another month?"

Unbidden, Ingrid's earlier words about Loki being 'her prince' rang in her mind, dusting her cheeks in a light blush. Loki would often call her all sorts of endearments, particularly when teasing her, but she had never taken it to mean more until Ingrid had made that joke. "Don't be dramatic. And sit down before someone sees you. Surely your mother will figure out it's not actually you down there."

Removing his helm, Loki took a seat on the couch. Sigrid slid next to him, tucking one leg under her body as she rotated in his direction. One of her arms rested on the back of the chair, bent at the elbow to prop her face. Loki settled deeper into the couch. His long legs were spread wide, allowing his left knee to touch her right.

"How was Alfheim?" she wanted to know. "Is it as picturesque as they say?"

"Even more so. I've read about the lands and seen pictures in books but seeing it in person was something else entirely." Loki paused for a second, a brow lifted in thought. "Although, I'm not sure I could live there. There was something too calm about the way they operated. I quite like the chaos of Asgard's inner rulings."

"Well you would, seeing as you cause half of it." She reached out to flick his ear. "And what about the people? I've heard the Light Elves are some of the most beautiful in all the nine realms. The women, especially."

"Beautiful, yes, but the title of 'most' is already held by the princess of Vanaheim." He tucked a stray curl away from her face as he usually did when her stubborn hair refused to stay in its binds. Compliments were not a thing the God of Mischief gave out on a regular basis, yet Sigrid received them in abundance. Just like all the times before, she brushed it off with a simple joke.

"There goes that silver tongue again. I'm sure you handled all the negotiations with the Queen whilst Thor stood there with his hammer all fetching."

Loki laughed out loud. "He was rather prepossessing. A new girl at his door every day, and we know how our beloved Thor cannot turn down the affections of a simpering woman." There was no hate in his his voice, nor did jealousy enter his tone. He and Thor had never shared the same taste in lovers, so this was not a point of contention for the brothers. They never had to worry about fighting over someone with whom they wished to share a bed.

"And what about you?" Sigrid inquired with a wiggle of her brows. "Surely one of the light elves met your standards, high as they may be. You are a very picky person."

Loki turned the full force of his green-blue eyes on her. In all the time she had known him, Sigrid could never quite find a single word to encompass their colour. They jumped between the sea and a blade of grass with changes in light, and it was always a joy to see what shade they would take on at any given time. "There's nothing wrong with knowing what you want. It's kept me from getting involved with the wrong people."

"That is a lie," Sigrid wagged a finger at him. "All the lovers of your past have disliked me immensely. The only one that was not terrible was Fjor."

"Ah, Fjor." Loki let out a breath of air, eyes glossing over at the mention of the man. He had known Fjor before he had known Sigrid and harbored the most intense crush on the boy during his teen years. In the end it was Sigrid who pushed him to make a move by locking the two in the library during a party. "He was fun."

"I liked him a lot. Tis a shame his father arranged that marriage to that advisor's daughter. You loved each other so much."

"Fjor and I were never going to last," Loki told her with a shrug. "As gracious as my parents have been about my desirabilities, it is the unspoken truth that I will have to wed a woman for the sake of heirs." He stopped then to give her a sudden look. "Of course, that day is not near. Thor would have to well be king and married before that trouble starts for me."

Sigrid shook her head. "The day Thor gets held down by one woman will be a feat in itself."

"I trust the good Lady Sif is already working on tha-"

Shouts rose from the crowd below. Perturbed, they both shared a look before scrambling to peer over the banister. The entire crowd was chattering away, some pointing at the throne whilst others covered their mouths. Thor was standing next to Loki's illusion, staring at it with narrow eyes. Suddenly, he thrust his hand towards it, only for his large fist to go straight through the facsimile. "Brother? BROTHER!"

"Whoops!" Loki let out a nervous laugh. Both Thor and his father were peering through the crowd looking for him. His mother, calm as ever, just lifted her face to meet the two of them. There was a slight smirk on her lips, as though she had already known where he was. "It seems I've been found out."

"You better get down there," Sigrid told him. "And I want you to make it clear I had nothing to do with this."

Loki gave no verbal response. He just picked up his helm, gave her a wink, and then disappeared in a flash of green