I return to my room, deep in thought over the very strange conversation I just listened in on. Who is Eira? And why, if she and Loki were so close, was she never even mentioned in the MCU? Was she lying about their relationship? I shake my head. Surely if she was, Frigga would have known. I sigh, pacing back and forth in my room as I eat the delicious apple that was on my breakfast tray. This is so confusing! I need answers.

And also, why did Frigga look so surprised when I said Loki could sense my presence? It's not like that's unusual, he's always been able to sense my presence. I just assumed it was because he was so highly trained in the art of magic. But is there more to it? I mean, I have had no training in that kind of magic use, and yet Loki is correct. I use the ability as well. But isn't that just a part of my personality? I've always been a very intuitive and observant person, and knowing when someone else is in the room when they make no sound is not very far-fetched for me. I've been able to sense other people's presence that way all my life. Perhaps Loki is unable to? I shake my head again. That can't be right; he's the most observant person I've ever met. His mother is right—he is so very perceptive about everyone.

Everyone except himself.

I sigh, my mind returning to our last conversation a couple of days ago. Every time that he's on the verge of admitting the truth, he returns to that smirk—that infuriating, fake, arrogant smirk of his. He hides his true self behind it, refusing to let anyone see past his walls of self-defense. Not even his own mother. But I know there is a good man behind the mask of confidence and arrogance- a hurting, broken man, to be sure, but a good man all the same. I wish so badly that I could help him. I may have never seen him as the young prince of Asgard, before he knew his true heritage, before he was eaten up inside by grief and pain and confusion. But I know that he longs for redemption, for acceptance from those he loves...or loved. His problem, though, is that he can't accept himself.

And it pains me to know that he won't, until years after his mother's death.

I grind my teeth in agitation, trying to ignore the prickling in my eyes. Why? Why must I sit back and watch this play out? Watch him deteriorate into a mere shell of the man he was once was, watch his pain and grief and longing eat him alive from the inside, watch him crumble at his mother's death? If I am meant to be here, God, please show me why.

Because I don't know if I can do this.

The Einherjar came for me a couple of hours later, just as Frigga had said. By the time he arrived, I was wearing a much fancier dress than before, some Asgardian makeup that I'd applied with help from a kind maid, and a mask of calm confidence on my face. And now, I'm walking straight towards the throne room of Asgard, about to face the AllFather of the Nine Realms. My heart is nearly hammering out of my ribcage, my mind racing over rehearsed replies to any questions he may have. The queen said to tell the truth as much as possible, so I intend to do exactly that. But I may be forced to trick him in some things, and I am not looking forward to that.

Just then, a young woman rounds the corner, nearly running right into me and the Einherjar who is escorting me. We all jump back in surprise, and the woman hastily apologizes, obviously flustered. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" Then, she takes a second look at me, and seems to recognize me. She instantly straightens, a business-like look coating her features, and to my surprise, a slightly disdainful look in her eyes. She looks me up and down, as though inspecting me, but I can't tell if she is impressed or disgusted. She turns and addresses the Einherjar. "The Queen sent me to fetch the lady Victoria."
The Einherjar nods, gesturing towards me. "Very well." Then he turns and walks back down the hallway in the direction we came. I turn to my new escort with a smile and a questioning raised eyebrow. But the woman ignores it and instead turns on her heel, beginning to walk quickly away in the opposite direction. "Follow me," she calls over her shoulder. I obediently follow, having to walk quickly to catch up, as she is slightly taller than me. I match her pace, walking next to her, and look over at her. She keeps her eyes straight forward, chin high, posture confident. A complete change from the apologetic young woman who nearly wrecked into me seconds earlier. Strange...does everyone in this place have a secret identity hidden behind a mask of confidence and arrogance?
"Why does the Queen wish to see me?"
At my formal attempt to break the silence, the woman looks at me, a hint of surprise in her eyes. But she returns her eyes to the golden halls ahead to answer. "I do not know. It is my duty to do as she commands, not to question her about what she commands."
I nod, trying not to let the mild rebuke affect me. "I apologize."
The woman gives me another surprised glance, but otherwise remains silent. Her manner is quick and businesslike now, making it hard for me to read her. I can't help but wonder who she is-obviously a servant of the Queen, but what else besides?

We traverse the golden halls, which for some reason all look alike on the levels nearer the ground, taking multiple turns and a couple of branching passageways, like this lady has lived in this maze of a palace all her life. After a very silent five minutes of walking, we come upon a set of stairs and descend them, ending up on an airy level of the palace that is one long hallway filled with golden and intricately carved stone pillars. We are in the middle of the hall, and on one end I can see that it opens up into the outside world, allowing a slight breeze to freshen the hall. On the other end, the throne of Asgard sits atop a dais made of the same beautiful stone as the surrounding pillars. And atop it, sits the AllFather himself. My eyes widen, and I look at the woman escorting me.

"I thought you were taking me to the Queen," I hiss, forgetting to be formal and polite in my angst.

"She has," a voice behind me says. I jump and spin around to face the Queen of Asgard. She is smirking in amusement, as is my escort. My cheeks flush, and I curtsy deeply. "Rise," Frigga says. "Victoria, as I'm sure you already know, this is Malye, my assistant." She gestures to the woman next to her, and I smile and give Malye a formal nod, deciding not to mention that I actually had no idea who she was until now. Malye returns the nod shortly, then turns to the Queen and drops a much more graceful curtsy than I did. I carefully watch her, trying to memorize her movements so that I can mimic them later.

"My Queen." Malye then turns and walks quickly back up the stairs, leaving me alone with Frigga. The Queen looks at me with a smile.

"I'm glad to see you are here. Odin is waiting for you."

I tense, nodding my head. Frigga's smile becomes sympathetic. "Don't worry, dear. You'll do fine. He is gruff, but he will not harm you. Just answer his questions as best you can."

I nod again, taking a deep breath. "Thank you, my Queen."

Frigga nods, then puts a hand to my back, guiding me forward to face her husband. I take another breath, my posture and facial expression transforming into that of a cooly collected woman as we walk to the base of the throne. Frigga gives me one more smile before ascending the steps to stand beside her husband. I lower my eyes, sinking into a deep curtsy once more. "AllFather."

"Rise." Odin's voice echoes through the hall of stone. I do as he commanded, only just remembering to keep my eyes lowered as a gesture of respect. But I square my shoulders and make sure my posture is strong. Look confident, and you'll feel confident.

"Victoria, I have been informed that you were captured by Loki while on Midgard, and were forced to serve under his leadership. Is this true?"

I raise my eyes to meet those of Odin AllFather, being completely sure to maintain a respectful gaze. I do not want to anger him by being unintentionally disrespectful. "Yes, sire. It is true."

"Why were you on Midgard at that time?"

Tell the truth, I remember Frigga said. "I have lived there for many years, sire. It is where I grew up."

Odin's eyebrows rise slightly in surprise. "Were your parents Midgardian or Asgardian?"

I bite my lip, looking down. "I do not believe the ones who raised me were Asgardian, sire."

"Then you are Midgardian." He doesn't sound very happy. I look back up.

"No, sire. I am Asgardian. But I do not know who my Asgardian parents are."

"I see." Odin exchanges a look with his wife, then turns back to me. "How did you come to be captured by Loki?"

I look away again, this time in embarrassment. "I...was exploring in a place I had no business being. I accidentally stumbled upon his...ah, hideout, and got myself captured as a result."

A flicker of amusement shows in the king's eye, but other than that no emotion crosses his face, much to my relief. "What were you required to do in his service?"

"I served as the chef's assistant at times, but mostly I trained under him, sire."

The king's brow furrows slightly. "What was his purpose in training you?"

I pause, thinking for a moment. "I do not know for certain what his goal was, but I do know that he wished to use my abilities to his advantage."

Odin nods. "And what exactly are your abilities?"

I glance at the Queen, unsure. She gives me a reassuring nod, so I turn my eyes back to the AllFather. "My strength of magic is invisibility, and as I had very little control over the ability, he taught me how to use it to my advantage. The other ability..." I hesitate, wondering if I should say this. "I know of certain events that will come to pass in the future."

Odin stares at me in silence for a moment. "You do not have the appearance of a witch."

I try not to show my annoyance. "I am not a witch, sire."

Another pause. "I only know of one other who can see the future and is not a witch."

My eyebrows rise in surprise, the words spilling out of my mouth before I can stop them. "There is another?"

"Yes." Odin moves on before I can ask anything else, seeming rather concerned. "Did you disclose any events of the future to Loki?"

My brow furrows slightly, wondering why he asked. "Yes sire, he forced me to. But I also deceived him into thinking the future would bring him victory. He took the bait, as is obvious."

Odin frowns a bit. "What did you tell him of the future?"

Oh...he thinks Loki knows more about the future than he should. "I only told him what would happen while he was on Midgard, and of that I did not give much detail. He only wished to know if his plan would succeed, and I deceived him."

Odin gives a short nod, watching me for a moment. I lower my eyes again respectfully, waiting for him to continue.

"I am told that you are unusually intuitive and observant."

My eyes fly up to meet his in surprise. He is watching me carefully, his one eye devoid of emotion, and yet still piercing. "What do you make of Loki's actions on Midgard?" he asks.

My eyebrows rise at the odd question. Why on earth—Midgard—is he asking me that? Why would he care what I think? "Ah...well, I...are you asking for an analyzation of his true character, or his conduct, my king?"

"Both." Odin sits back in his throne, as though to watch a show. I blink.

"Ah...yes, sire." I take a moment to gather my thoughts, becoming almost businesslike to hide my nervousness. "His conduct, for the most part, showed that he was confident in what he was doing. His takeover of Midgard was well planned out, and everything he did, including capturing and training me, had a purpose to it. His composure and behavior was that of a king at war. As for his true character..." I pause again, and glance at Frigga. Tell the truth, I hear her words echo in my mind. And though it pains both myself and her, I know she is right. I need to tell the truth. "I believe he was conflicted. I do not know if he was afraid that he would fail, or if he truly believed that what he was doing was wrong; but there was something deep inside that gnawed at him the entire time I was with him on Midgard. Perhaps it was both. Whatever the problem, he did not allow it to win out. There were times that he wavered, but in the end he chose to go through with his plan."

Odin sits in silence for several minutes, and I stand before him, eyes lowered and heart racing. Did I do the right thing? Did I say too much, or too little? Have I affected Odin's judgement sentence on Loki?

"You are dismissed," Odin finally says, startling me. I curtsy deeply in response, and then turn, weaving my way through the pillars towards the stairwell. I keep my back straight and chin high, but my hands are shaking.

I hope I didn't just ruin everything.

Author's Note: Hi guys! I hope you're enjoying. I'll make no promises on steady updates since we all know I won't keep them. But I can at least promise that I won't stop writing. I will finish this story; I won't leave you all hanging.

I love you all 3,000!

Signing off, AuthorsDream.