***Two edits small edits have been made to this chapter. They are marked! Just scroll to find them!***

Dear readers, forgive me.

Everything is going to be fine…

Everything is going to be fine…

I can do this, because everything is going to be fine...

Rosa exhaled shakily. She sat on her bed with her legs folded beneath her in complete and utter silence. Today was the day. She had never imagined it to be possible to feel so much anxiety and so much excitement all at once. For the most part, she had tried not to think on it too much. If she let herself ponder it for any length of time, her mind seemed to conjure the worst possible scenarios to leave her to dwell upon.

So instead, she sat. Staring at a flower bud.

Wake up…

She felt her skin grow warm. So warm.

Open tiny flower… it's time…

And then the tingling started. Mingling and becoming one with the warmth from deep within her. And as it grew, her excitement grew with it.

There is nothing to be afraid of, because everything is going to be fine…

Something welcome and beautiful spilled through her, starting from within her chest and spreading throughout her entire being. Not just her body, but her soul. Out it poured, warmer and stronger, suddenly heading only for her open palm, in which, sat the tiny green flower bud.

Light, her whole hand was made of light. And more than that… purity.

"You have to want it and you have to make it so. That is why so many people are wary of it; because to cast a spell is to bare your soul."

The feeling peaked with a flash of light from within her and suddenly quelled, though it did not disappear. And she finally understood.

Rosa opened her eyes and found herself utterly breathless. In her palm lay the most beautiful flower she'd ever laid eyes upon. Sure, the petals were still strangely curled up somewhat and it was tinged a premature green, but it was open. And that was why it was beautiful. She had done it…

A smile exploded onto her face as she stared at the flower in utter disbelief. Slowly, she laid it down on the bed before her, as if it were some fragile thing that would disintegrate into dust if she wasn't careful.

Her entire body prickled strangely. A feeling that she had never experienced before, it wasn't unpleasant, it was just… new. At first, she thought it was somewhat of an aftershock from having performed an act of magic. But then she came to realise it was more lasting than that; it felt more permanent. Like some new part of her had awakened and was now stretching out and making itself comfortable within her.

She fell back against her pillows, feeling strange. Heavy and weightless. Awake and unconscious. Weak and powerful. She couldn't believe that she had truly done it; created magic. Was this how Loki felt all the time? Rosa felt the question burning at her tongue, yearning to be asked. Time would come for that. Soon, they would have all the time in the world, not just stolen glances and whispered exchanges in the darkness of night.

Rosa realised that the fear was gone. Whatever was to come, she was ready for it.

When Loki opened the door, distaste filled him. There were far more people present than he had anticipated, but then, it was the eve of Thor's big day. Loki scowled at the thought, wasn't everyday Thor's day, after all? The dinner was meant to have been a modest occasion. Odin's family and perhaps Sif and the Warriors Three. And yet, there was at least thirty people seated at the table.

Silently, he moved around the table towards his seat. Few acknowledged his presence, though they knew him to be there. Loki wasn't fool enough to miss the change in atmosphere which happened so often when he approached a group of people. He made them uncomfortable. Perhaps it was his magic, or perhaps his cold demeanour towards them. Either way he didn't care, but he decided to wait until they took their leave to speak with his parents regarding Rosa.

So Loki sat, and ate, and listening. He offered little in terms of conversation, but remained patient towards the delights of others. He did not wish for anything to sour his Father's mood as the meal drew to completion. Throughout the course of the meal, the Prince dared flick his eyes towards Rosa, who tended predominantly towards Frigga's plate and cup. Whenever their eyes met, she would offer him the tiniest of smiles, and though he saw it, he did not return it. Not yet.

After a meal that seemed to stretch on for an eternity, and drinks that soon turned into not but dregs, the night seemed close to conclusion. Gods lounged back in their chairs, caressing full bellies and volume of conversation lulled down to words only slightly louder than whispers – significantly contrasted against the roars the meal had begun with. Loki watched and waited, satisfaction unfurling within him at the sight of many an eyelid growing heavy. It would only be moments before the guests took their leave.

But it was then that Thor stood. All eyes turned to him and he extended his arms, looking warm and open as he smiled at those seated that the table.

"My dearest friends," he began, "you who sit here, are among the most treasured beings in my life. Each of you has grown and fought by my side and I have come to love you all dearly."

The Gods and warriors who were spoken to beamed at him, raising their goblets to him in thanks.

"And my dearest Mother and Father," Thor turned to face them, "never was any other so fortunate when it came to parentage. You have raised me well, taught me valuable lessons, and stood by my side whenever I was in need. I love and treasure you both more than anything else that is of this life."

Odin inclined his head towards his son, pride glowing from his features. Pride that was mirrored upon Frigga's face, though she smiled gently at him and lay her hand atop his in a motherly gesture.

"But the reason I wish to speak to you all today is because of my dear and only brother, Loki. Or rather, it was actually something that you said to me, brother." Thor smiled as he turned towards Loki who raised a quizzical eyebrow, "Loki, you told me that I desperately need to start preparing myself for the throne… to be King..." Thor turned back to the rest of the guests ad raised his voice, wishing to sound powerful, "And in pondering that, I have come to realise that a King's life should be sturdy. I will need a firm foundation within my own life if I hope to focus my efforts upon ruling my Kingdom."

"What are you saying, Thor?" Frigga spoke up, her hand upon her eldest son's forearm.

Thor beamed, "I mean to take a wife."

A soft murmur broke out amongst Gods and warriors. It crumbled into silence as Odin leaned forward. He had an unassailable presence, and all knew when a command had been given, even if it was not spoken aloud.

"Thor," he said in his powerful, yet ever steady voice, "I urge you to think wisely upon this matter."

Thor turned to face his Father, respectful and attentive to the counsel the Allfather offered.

"A Queen must be many things, my Son. She must be patient and wise. She must be a woman of integrity and she must command the love and respect of both her husband and her Kingdom. Above all Thor, she must be trustworthy. You give to the woman you chose, a great deal of power. This is not a decision that can be made lightly."

Loki watched Thor with a critical eye. None of this was right. He was up to something. What Thor wanted was the crown, he had no concern of who was to be Queen. In fact, he had oft stated that as an Immortal, he thought marriage an insane thing to rush into. He had an eternity to find an appropriate match. When you are to live forever, what sort of fool would be so hasty? In truth, it was Thor's way of justifying his… promiscuity, for lack of a better word.

If Thor had been anything but arrogant, he would have heeded Odin's advice. But Thor was Thor, so instead he smiled.

"While the gift of your wisdom is always an honour, Father, I have made my choice." Thor held out his hands to those seated around him, "Asgardian's are the Mightest of peoples in all the nine realms! The Midgardians recognise us as Gods. And our immortality and superior strength causes our enemies to quiver with fear in our wake! We are the rulers of the Universe. We in ourselves should not be segregated. So, for that reason, I mean for my Rule to be one of unity. No man of Asgard shall be recognised as of any less worth than another. And to make this so, I shall take a commoner as my Queen."

Loki's stomach clenched horrifically, no.

The reaction within the room was a strange mixture of shocked gasps and obligated proclamations of enthusiasm. Sif did her best to suppress a shuddering gasp as she stared at the golden haired Prince. Frigga clapped happily for her son, though there was poorly masked anxiety in her eyes. The Warriors Three, along with most others who were present at the table, raised glasses and cried out toasts and congratulations. Odin remained silent, deep in thought as he studied his son.

And Loki, he sat completely motionless, jaw clenched as he willed it to be anything other than what he thought it to be.

He near went blind with fury as his brother uttered the next sentence.

"I fear that you will be in need of a new handmaiden Mother, for I take your Rosa to be my wife."

The sound of shattering glass assisted all present in setting their eyes upon the maid in question.

Rosa's heart had stopped. Time had stopped. Any warmth that her awoken magic had created within her earlier fizzled and died and was replaced with cold, hard horror. This couldn't be happening. It wasn't real. It wasn't.

Rosa hurriedly bent over to pick up the shards of broken glass which now surrounded her. The tray had slipped from her fingers as the shock of Thor's words had struck her. And now, as tears brimmed her eyes, she barely registered the sharp stinging pain of the glass slicing open the skin of her shaking hands.

Two other maids rushed forward to stop her.

"That is not for you to do, My Lady," one of them said to her gently, as they helped her to her feet.

My Lady? She was careful to keep her head down to hide her tear-brimmed eyes from each and every person within the room who looked upon her. Though she could do nothing for the burning blush of shame upon her cheeks.

As she was steered towards the door, she heard Thor proclaim, "At my inauguration ceremony tomorrow, after I am named King, it shall be announced to all of Asgard."

Rosa felt utterly numb as the women guided her from the room. And one gave her hand a gentle squeeze, having noticed her distress. She watched Rosa with sympathetic eyes while the other, oblivious to Rosa's upset, whispered to her excitedly.

"We are to take you to the seamstresses to have you fitted for a gown upon Prince Thor's command." She told her, "they will certainly have their work cut out for them, to have your garments ready for the ceremony tomorrow."

Rosa found herself having to focus on breathing. If she didn't, then she couldn't. Everything within her had completely shut down and the pain in her chest was near crippling. This wasn't right. This wasn't what was supposed to have happened. She and Loki were-

Loki. He would fix it. He would know what to do. He had to…

The pair of maids led her into a deserted room, where they offered her a chair. As she sat, she realised just how weak and shaky she had become. The two women had indeed carried most of her weight for her along the walk. She gazed absently around the room at the various fabrics laid out around her.

She felt so detached. This wasn't happening to her… was it? She felt as if she were watching a memory that belonged to someone else… to a stranger.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" The happy voice of the younger maid rang out, "You will truly look stunning once they are done with you, My Lady."

"Do not call me that," Rosa managed to breathe out.

The young woman looked uncomfortable, "my apologies," she said uncertainly.

Bile suddenly rose in Rosa's throat and she fought it down. She turned to face the women, no longer bothering to hide her tear-sheened eyes.

"Might I have a moment alone?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Of course," one murmured. Together, they curtsied to her and turned to leave.

Rosa stared unblinkingly at the far wall as they moved to exit, fighting to keep her breathing from becoming erratic. The moment she heard the door click shut, she raced the far corner of the room and vomited. Her tears streamed freely from her eyes and her wretched sobbing was only interrupted by the upbringing of more bile. She fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around herself, whimpering and sobbing hopelessly.

Before long, a knock at the door stilled her.

"Rosa?" came the familiar voice.

"Lyora?" she stood and spun around as the door opened. Lyora moved into the room and towards her as Rosa crumbled to her knees once again. Whatever animosity was held between them as a result of Rosa's deception was completely forgotten. The pair had not spoken since their argument, yet there she was without a thought, as soon as Rosa had needed her.

Lyora wrapped her arms around Rosa as she cried, her shaking body going limper than ever.

"Everything is going to be alright, Rosa." She promised.

**EDIT**

A glint of gold caught Lyora's eye, she glanced down to see Rosa's emerald necklace swinging hypnotically from her neck. She reached around to unclasp it.

"Here," she said gently, "take this off. You can't be seen wearing it."

"How could this happen?" Rosa whimpered, her voice bordering on hysterical, "Loki was to tell his family tonight, and then this... I don- I don't understand! Prince Thor, he has attempted to c-court me, but Loki said his advances were the result of my indifference… this is madness! I cannot marry him!"

"I know," Lyora hushed, holding her tight, "I know. Please, Rosa… try to calm yourself."

Rosa's head suddenly shot up, and their eyes met. She clung to Lyora as if she might disappear; her only hope.

"Lyora, please," her eyes held nothing but desperation, "you must go to Loki. I beg of you."

"Rosa…"

"Tell him I must see him. Tell him it is him that I love. Tell him… tell him if what we must do is flee, then so be it. Lyora, please… please…" and more tears spilled. She was speaking nonsense, part of her knew that, though she did not care.

Lyora pulled Rosa into a hug, gently stroking her hair. Her stomach clenched horribly as she gave her answer, "Of course…" she rocked her soothingly, "of course."

Loki was rage. Pure rage and nothing else.

While friends and family had leapt up to congratulate the golden haired Prince, Loki had slipped silently from the Banquet Hall. He had stormed down the corridor, near crippled by the fury and hatred bursting from within him.

The coopery taste of blood filled his mouth. He had bitten right through his own tongue in an attempt to keep his self control. His palms were damp with blood from the crescent shaped indents his fingernails had left within his clenched fists.

His blood seemed to boil as he stormed through the Palace. Any who saw him coming retreated out of his way, pressing themselves up against the stone walls if need be, after but a glance at his rabid features. No sooner had he rounded the corner into a deserted corridor did he let out a scream of fury. He threw his arm out in the direction of the nearest marble statue, his rigid fingers curled into a claw, and thing blew up before him. Chunks of rock and marble flew through the air and landed heavily around him. He stormed forward and destroyed the next one, and the next. As dusty settled around him, he flew at nearest stone wall and slammed his fist into it. The wall cracked under the force of the impact. Again and again he lay his fist into the same spot, blinding pain searing up his arm.

But he didn't stop.

Because it was better. It was better to feel that, than everything else he was feeling.

When he finally slowed his swings he leant up against the wall, breathing heavily. His hand throbbed agonisingly, but it was no longer enough to block out the reality he wished to escape. Loki pushed himself away from the wall and stormed off towards his bedchambers, leaving the dust and debris in his wake.

Once he reached his room, he reefed open the door, almost ripping it from its hinges. His hands came up to pull at his hair and he felt the blood from his damaged fist trickle down his face.

He hated Thor. Loathed him. Of everything his older brother had done to cause Loki to despise him so, this was the worst. He could tolerate anything else, but not this. He could not have Rosa. She was the only thing that was Loki's and now Thor had taken her. Loki would burn Asgard to the ground if that's what it took to claim her back.

There had always been whispers of a legendary God of Fate who lurked deep within caves and tunnels beneath Asgard's surface. A cruel man with a twisted sense of humour, who took pleasure in rolling his rigged dice, ensuring despair wherever he could manage. Loki, along with all sensible Asgardians, had always thought it to be the stuff of children's fables. But now, standing drenching in his own blood as the just passed events swirled through his head, he thought perhaps he believed it. And he resolved to slaughter the God of Fate just as soon as he had Thor's head on a platter.

His thoughts turned to Rosa. Was she alright? What could she possibly be thinking at such a time? White hot rage brewed up within him; was Thor with her? Beneath his skin, his magic prickled. The destruction of the statues had brought him momentary satisfaction, though not enough. He wanted to turn Thor to rubble too. His hands clenched once again.

There is a gentle knocking at his door, "My Lord?" called a timid voice.

"Leave me be!" He shouted.

"Please, Your Highness… I carry word from Rosa."

Faster than anyone would think possible, Loki flew across the room, flung opened the door and wrenched the woman inside. She let out a frightened shriek as he slammed her up against the wall. His fingers dug into her arms. He was a sight to behold; blood covering his face and hands, his dark hair a messy array falling over crazed, furious eyes.

"What of her?" he hissed.

"Please, My Lord… you're hurting me," Lyora's voice was weak as she cowered before him.

He shook her violently, "What of her?" he roared.

Lyora raised shaking hands in defence and stared at the man before her. The man her dearest friend supposedly loved.

And it broke Lyora's heart.

Whoever Rosa might have thought the Prince to be, she was wrong. The snarling beast before her, he was not what Rosa needed. If she were to run with him, she would condemn herself to a life of misery. But then there was Thor; strong, brave and noble. A hope of something better, even if Rosa could not yet see it. He could save her from such a fate. He was untouchable. He was good. He was worthy.

She would never forgive you... she thought, but that matters not...

In that moment, Lyora made a decision. An impossible decision. One that broke her heart. But it was what had to be done... for Rosa's sake.

Lyora met Loki's eye, resolutely, "She has sent me to tell you that she is sorry, My Lord," curiously, her voice no longer shook, "she said that she has made her choice."

**EDIT**

Lyora's heart thundered in her chest as she held out her hand, presenting to him the emerald necklace he had given Rosa. She waited for his reaction. Would he strike her? Her hands began to tremble at the thought.

But the harsh grip on her arms suddenly vanished. Cold fingers swiped the chain out of her grasp and he then moved from her. She looked at him again, still filled with fear and struggling to catch her breath. For the most fleeting of moments, the sight of him made Lyora reconsider. He had his back to her. He leaned up against his finely crafted desk as if without it, he would no longer be able to stand. It was not the posture of Royalty... or a God. It was the miserable posture of a man broken. Dejected. Defeated. And then his fists clenched. Loki raised his head and turned, glowering at her with such hate in his eyes, the likes of which Lyora had never seen in another person in her life.

"Get. Out." He snarled through barred teeth.

Not daring to tear her eyes from him, Lyora felt hastily for the door handle and slipped backwards from the room. The moment she pulled the door shut, she heard a pained scream of anger and something smash against the door.

Rosa... please forgive me, she begged silently as she hurried off away from the Prince's chambers.

He leaned over the basin, his own blood dripping into it from his injured hand as he poured his magic into the water before him, it swirled and formed an image...

He would destroy him, he would take everything from him. Starting with his crown.

With ragged breaths, he reached deep into the emptiness of the spatial void between the realms until he felt cold. So very, very cold.

Come… he coaxed as he felt his magic touch life forms. Cruel, cold life forms. The ones from the legends he had learned as a child. The ones he had been taught to hate... and to fear, come take what is yours. I shall guide you in… come…

Please don't hate me! I'm sorry, I really am!

I'm doing my best to have the next chapter uploaded by Thursday. It will be the chapter (if everything goes according to plan) where the events of Thor will begin to be incorporated into our story.

As always I am SO utterly appreciative of your reviews! Nothing makes me happier than to read them and see how excited you are for the next chapter, it really keeps me motivated!

I really am sorry and I do love all of you, even though I just did that... please be gentle with me! *finds something to hide behind*