So, ehem, I'm assuming from some of the reviews that you guys thought this story had been abandoned. And rightly so. However, now you can see that it's not and never has been. Like I promised in the last update, I will not let this story be abandoned. Unfortunately, a whole lot of life got in the way, including personal medical issues, family deaths (yes, plural), my ridiculous overload of school work I have to maintain to keep my scholarship (if anyone reading is a music major, I'm sure you can empathize that it is NOT easy. Taking 10-12 classes a semester in college is not normal, folks). I don't want to dump life on you guys, but I just wanted you to know that that is why I can't crank out a limitless amount of updates every other day or week. It isn't for lack of commitment or caring, God knows I think about this story multiple times a day, but just that I have real life, high-stakes priorities that require my full attention. Despite that, I just want to thoroughly thank those readers who have stuck with this story. You guys are…just amazing, and I appreciate you so much. And I can say in full confidence that you can expect future updates as well.
Also a huge, huge, HUGE thank you to the marvelous and wonderful and amazing angel that is Team Damon. She had a huge part in helping me get this update up, and I am simply lost without her. (Btw, if you haven't check out her other stories: Breath of Life, Life After Death, and all of its subsequent AUs, you are thoroughly missing out.) But ANYWAY, I hope you enjoy the update (prepare, the shoe is about to drop VERY VERY soon), and if you feel so inclined, please drop Team Damon and I a little review! Also, I'll be posting some of the inspiration for Aemilia's choice of dress for this chapter on my Tumblr: take-me-tom-hiddleston, which you can reach through my (midnightwings96) ff profile. Also, if you might want to chat about Ruin, or just life, whatever, you can do that on my Tumblr, too. :)
Enjoy! –Midnightwings96
Frigga had been keeping the secret of Loki's survival to herself for far too long, and of all of the trials and hardships that she had faced in her long life - and there were many - this secret and the truth of Loki's fall weighed on her heart in a way that nothing else ever had. It followed her like a shadow, always there in her mind and resurfacing at the worst moments to jab at the heart of her very being and take her breath away.
Loki may not have been born of her own womb, but he was as much a part of her as her own flesh and blood. The heavy burden that she bore was nearly too much for even a woman of her strength, but she persevered and continued to search out his presence to look after him as best she could.
It was not easy locating him in the dark, unknown world that he had somehow been taken captive in, not even after she first saw him in chains and barely clinging to life as he mumbled Aemilia's lullaby to himself. Each time she sought him out it took an enormous amount of focus and energy, so much so that she would be left drained and as physically pained as she was emotionally pained. No mother should have to see her son as she had seen Loki, she knew, but if she ceased seeking him out, there would be no hope of determining his location and of bringing him home.
And bringing him home was the one thing she wanted more than anything in all the realms.
And so, early in the morning when the realm was at its quietest and her own servants had not even awoken yet, Frigga stood in her chambers before a small pillar of flickering flames, her mind clear and eyes closed in intense but serene concentration. Searching the realms as she did took much time and energy, and if she hadn't spent a lifetime perfecting her magic and learning it to extents rarely reached before, then she would never have been able to accomplish such a feat.
She could immediately feel when she had finally found him again, and she opened her eyes to find herself looking upon the dark, mysterious world that she had first found him on when she had discovered his survival. Something felt different this time, however, and she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was as she searched for him, amid the rocks and desolation of the realm. She also could sense the presence of an ancient foe, a dark, toxic aura that she had not encountered in over a millennia.
Despite the sense of dread in her soul, when she finally saw him, her heart soared with relief but was instantly tempered by confusion. He was standing. He was not merely clinging to life any longer but rather walking about seemingly with his full strength back, no longer in his Jotun form but the Aesir one that she knew required his magic being intact.
... But how could this be? And why?
He had his back turned to her, and she could see that he was dressed fully in his traditional Asgardian armor, including his helm and cape. He was also holding some sort of staff that she'd never seen before, long and golden with a pale blue stone glowing at the razor-sharp tip.
He was so close, so much so that had she been there in the flesh rather than in mere consciousness, she could have reached out and pulled him into a hug.
"Loki," she spoke towards him, knowing that he would hear her. And he did.
She saw his shoulders tense immediately upon hearing her voice, and after a pause, he turned, shock written on his face as he looked upon the image of his mother manifested in the dark atmosphere before him. She felt tears sting her eyes at the sight of him, but any relief that she felt began to dissipate when she saw the strange, strikingly vivid blue of his eyes. It was eerily the same shade as the stone that sat in the scepter in his hand, and it was all so very wrong.
"Mother," he said after blinking, shock giving way to a blankness that only served to further emphasize the unnatural state of his eyes. This was not her Loki that she was looking at, even though he clearly recognized her and was in one piece.
He was too pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes that a lack of sleep or exhaustion could never cause. There was an odd pallor to his skin that made look almost feverish, and he looked unsettlingly frail, as even a man of his immense strength would after suffering the unspeakably horrific things that he had.
She opened her mouth to speak to him, to plead with him and tell him that she would have him rescued, that he could come home and be saved from this wretched place, but before any such words could leave her mouth, he spoke first.
"It must have been quite difficult for you to come all this way and find me here," he said, stepping closer. Even his voice sounded weak and winded, as if each breath worsened his exhaustion. "It's truly unfortunate, considering this is simply a bad time."
One thrust of the scepter later and a blinding flash of bluish-white light that overcame her, Frigga opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by her own chambers. Loki had pushed her away, all but banishing her from his presence.
She closed her eyes and let out a long, pained breath. Luckily, Loki was still alive and growing stronger, but something was very clearly wrong. He was different. His eyes were not his own, and that scepter... somebody had put it in his hand. Somebody was behind all of it - the torture, the state that she had first found him in, and now this. And Loki was clearly planning something, though she feared to even imagine what that could be.
Collecting herself as best she could, Frigga squared her shoulders and turned away. Her time of keeping Loki's survival a secret would soon be over. She had to tell Odin and Thor, and she had to tell them that day. She only hoped that what was on the horizon wasn't as terrible as her instincts told her it was.
Of all the places in Asgard, or anywhere else in all the realms really, that Aemilia would have preferred spending her morning at, her current destination was not particularly high on the list. In fact, she had nearly cancelled quite a few times before deciding that it would only be delaying the inevitable and that the best decision was to simply get on with it. And it was breakfast with her mother.
The carriage ride to her old home felt much shorter than it truly was as Aemilia sat and watched the trees pass by outside the window, the pathway as familiar as the back of her hand despite how long it had been since she had lived with her parents. It was hard to believe how much had changed since then and how much she had grown, and it was even more surreal to be going back home for the first time since she had been banished from it.
Banished. Aemilia pursed her lips slightly and turned away from the window, closing her eyes instead and reminding herself that this visit was supposed to be about healing and forgiveness and... all of that. Or at least beginning the path to those things, which she was sure was all that she was capable of at the present time.
While her relationship with her father was truly better than it had ever been, she had limited her communication with Ayre to letters for the sake of her own comfort. The wounds that Ayre had inflicted long ago ran quite deep, and Aemilia had once been more than prepared to never speak to her again. However, after Ayre's apology in person some months earlier as well as a recent request from Haidr to at least have a meal with her - plus Frigga's encouragement to give the woman an honest chance to do better as a mother - Aemilia decided that she would at least try.
Thus, breakfast. It was a start, at least.
Upon arrival, Aemilia glanced out the window to find Ayre very uncharacteristically waiting at the gates for her. Normally she'd send servants to fetch guests unless they were either royal or particularly high-born, but all things considered, Aemilia probably shouldn't have been surprised that Ayre would give her nothing short of a royal reception.
Aemilia took a deep breath and stepped out of the carriage, hoping that the next hour or so would prove less torturous than she feared they would. She forced a smile on her face as Ayre walked to her, wearing one of her countless fine dresses and her long, dark hair piled elegantly on her head. It wouldn't be her if she didn't look her very best at nearly every waking moment.
"My darling daughter," Ayre smiled, arms outstretching before pulling her into a hug once she was close enough. "Thank you so much for coming today."
Aemilia lightly embraced her mother back, patting her back gently and then pulling back before Ayre could squeeze her too much. "Hello, Mother. You look well."
"Oh, thank you dear, but you... you are even more beautiful than I remember," Ayre gushed, briefly cupping her daughter's face with both hands. "Look at you." Aemilia smiled, and then Ayre patted Aemilia's shoulders and her eyes widened slightly. "Oh my. You have become a little warrior, haven't you? Your father told me you've been training, but..."
Aemilia chuckled and nodded. "Yes, I am not quite as... soft as I was before." From the subtle way she was looking her up and down, Aemilia couldn't tell if her mother approved of that particular hobby or not, but she certainly wasn't going to ask.
Ayre then sighed and dropped her hands. "But still every bit as lovely. Come along," she said, taking Aemilia's arm and turning them towards the house. "I had the cook make your favorite breakfast."
"Thank you," Aemilia said politely, looking up towards the house and bracing herself for what would surely be an onslaught of memories once she stepped inside. "Is father home?"
"Oh no, he's been away for the last week," Ayre explained. "I'm afraid it will be just the two of us."
Joy of joys, Aemilia thought before returning Ayre's own nervous smile. She reminded herself to try to cut her mother a break, as she was clearly incredibly anxious herself.
As Aemilia had predicted, stepping inside of her childhood home brought back a rush of memories - some good, some quite funny, some rather terrible. It still smelled the same, and short of some new decorations and furniture, everything was exactly as she remembered it. One of the first things that her eyes fell to was the long, winding staircase that led upstairs and, in turn, her old room. The room that Loki used to come to and find her in before either grasping her hand or taking her in his arms and vanishing her away to his own room at the palace...
She blinked and forced the painful memory aside, listening to Ayre's somewhat incessant chatter and following her to the dining table. There had never been a chance of the visit not being painful or bringing back bittersweet memories, but Aemilia had prepared herself for that and managed to stay focused on getting through the situation at hand.
At first, all went surprisingly swimmingly. Ayre talked enough for the both of them once they were seated, and the meal before them really was Aemilia's favorite. She ate and nodded and spoke a few words whenever it was necessary, but by the time that the conversation began to turn from the sort of bland gossip and small talk that Ayre spoke like a second language, Aemilia found some of her previous apprehension instantly returning.
"So... forgive me for asking this if you'd rather I not, but..."
Aemilia paused with her fork halfway to her mouth, looking at her mother cautiously and preparing to be unhappy with whatever question followed.
"... It has been some time since... everything happened, and I'm curious if you have any new suitors."
Suddenly no longer hungry, Aemilia set her fork down on her plate and snapped, "No, mother, I do not. And if you wouldn't mind, I'd prefer to change the subject."
"Of course, of course, I am sorry," Ayre nodded. She fell silent for a moment, both women staring at the table, at least until Ayre then said, "All I mean to say is that for a young woman of your age and vitality, the expectation is for you to recover from a tragic loss rather quickly and begin to sort through potential suitors once more."
Holding back the urge to roll her eyes, Aemilia prepared to tell Ayre that this exact conversation was why she hadn't wanted to come to this breakfast in the first place, but Ayre held up a single polished hand in a conciliatory way before she spoke again.
"I am not trying to pressure you, dear. I know that my words hold very little weight for you, and that is my own fault," she acknowledged, a sad glimmer to her eyes. "But I want you to be happy. And while I know how difficult it would be for you to probably even consider courting another man, you know that it is something that you can only delay for so long."
Aemilia's knee-jerk defenses relaxed some, and she let out a breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "I know."
"Do you at least have any current prospects?" Ayre asked, clearly not trying to appear too interested or excited over such a matter.
Aemilia paused and considered how to answer that question. Her mind drifted back to the kiss that she'd shared with Fandral back at the tavern months ago, and how understanding and patient he had been with her ever since their subsequent conversation the next morning. She wouldn't tell her mother whom she was thinking of, but she did eventually answer vaguely, "I may."
"Oh good," Ayre replied, obviously pleased to hear this. "I will control myself and not pry and ask who it is."
"Good," Aemilia half-smiled. "Because like I said, I do not currently have any suitors, and to talk about it would be very premature."
"I understand," Ayre nodded.
"To be honest," Aemilia added, eyes averted, "I still feel that I am still not ready for courtship. With anyone," she quickly added. "But... I am much more open to it now than I was before."
"I am happy to hear it," Ayre replied. "Truly, I am. All I want is for you to be happy, Aemilia. It's all that I've ever wanted for you."
Aemilia nodded, then replied with a small smile, "I do not need a man to be happy, mother."
Ayre fell silent for the briefest of seconds before smiling back. "Of course you don't. You've always been rather independent, always chasing your dreams instead of chasing suitors. Very rare in a society like ours."
Aemilia nodded. "That's what I'm trying to get back to, actually. I have an audition for the opera this afternoon."
"Oh really?" Ayre asked, expression brightening again. "Good! Good. I hope it goes well. Singing has always brought you such happiness. It's been far too long since I've heard your voice."
"Well, if all goes well, perhaps you will hear it again soon," Aemilia smiled, and to her surprise, she didn't have to force the smile at all. She could tell that for once, Ayre was truly trying. She might not have truly changed, but people rarely ever did. She was at least making a sincere effort to be better and doing her part in giving them a fair shot at having something of a relationship again, and that was all that Aemilia could really ask from her for the time being. It was certainly a vast improvement over her behavior in the past.
"I wish you all the luck in the world, darling," Ayre said with a smile, reaching across the table and gently patting the back of Aemilia's hand. "And I thank you very, very much for coming today."
Aemilia smiled and nodded back, truly meaning it when she replied, "Thank you for not making me regret it."
Once Aemilia had finally returned from her trip to her childhood home, she had realized with a sudden panic how very far, far behind schedule she was for her audition that day. Desperately wishing that she could finally grasp the concept of teleportation, she was reduced to running like a mad woman throughout her chambers in an attempt to gather all that she needed.
After about 30 minutes of chaos, losing sheet music, finding said sheet music, magically conjuring her hair and dress to cooperate, and downing a particular scalding cup of herbal tea for both vocal clarity and crippling anxiety, she finally put herself together. Taking one last look at herself in the mirror, her hair up and pristine and her dress sleek, simple, and a dark navy – thank Valhalla for glamour spells, she gratefully thought – she grabbed her bag of music and went for the door.
Immediately upon flinging the door open, she nearly yelped at the sight of Fandral standing there, hand still fully poised to knock. They looked at each other with surprise before Fandral, with an equal parts concerned and amused look on his face, realized how disheveled and anxious she was for this audition.
"Lady Aemilia! Thank Valhalla, I caught you in time!" he exclaimed, following her as she hurriedly shut the door and made for the long walk through the palace halls to the carriage that awaited her out front.
"Just barely," she said. Was she breathless? Why was she breathless? Oh, yes, crippling anxiety. "I should be at the theatre already to warm up. I visited my mother today, and she kept stalling me…attempting to connect with me again."
They turned the corner as Fandral inquired, "And…is it working?"
She gave an unsure shrug and simply replied, "I'm not sure, honestly. She clearly still has a lot to learn about me and how I operate, since we still don't understand each other, nor do we communicate well. However, she's trying, I suppose. The least I can do is to do the same."
"I thoroughly agree. I know the two of you have your differences, but I'm sure that, in time, your relationship will heal." He paused for a moment to open the exit door for her. "But, talking about this is not why I wanted to catch you!"
Aemilia's borderline ridiculous amount of nerves caused her to lose a bit of her normal decorum. She didn't even wait for Fandral or the driver to open the door to the carriage for her. As she flung it open and definitively put one foot in the carriage, she said, "Fandral, I'm sure whatever you have to talk to me about is truly fascinating, but I simply must go now."
A huge grin spread across his face as she sat down. "Yes, we must! And since we're in such a hurry, why don't you move over so I can fit into the bloody carriage?"
She paused and looked at him quizzically, "What? What are you talking about?"
"Why, I'm escorting you to your audition, my Lady! So, please, move aside!" he replied playfully.
Despite her still racing heart and desperation to get there with some spare time for her to collect her thoughts, his actions made her take a breath for a moment. "Fandral, you don't have to escort me to the theatre."
He looked at her as if he had never heard her say such a preposterous thing in her life. "Don't be silly, of course I do. You've been talking about this audition for months, Aemilia. You were telling me about your characterization of Aster in her aria from The Beggar's Lament whilst sparring with me. You even sang a line to me in between blocking my sword. You've told me so much about this I feel as if I am about to audition. So of course I'm going to escort you and show my support."
Aemilia could hardly construct a sentence in response. "Well…I….thank you, but…please Fandral, don't feel obligated to—"
He held up his hand, that infuriatingly amused little grin still firmly intact, "No obligation, just a desire to be there for a friend. Now, if you would please move aside, we can be on our way!"
Their eyes met for a split second after that, and in that miniscule moment in time, she could tell that he knew how much she loved and appreciated his support. Aside from Frigga and her father whenever he had the chance to be there, Fandral had become Aemilia's main source of comfort, familiarity, and support. It astounded her how touched she was from such a small act of selflessness to escort her to an audition. It meant more than she could have ever anticipated.
With a wide smile to mirror the smile Fandral's grin had eventually turned into, she made room for him in the carriage, and then they were off.
Despite her worries, Aemilia and Fandral made it to the theatre with just enough time for her to have a chance to warm up and sink into a proper, focused mind set for the audition. They silently walked inside together, and when it was time for Aemilia to continue on alone, her heart beat dramatically spiked. She hadn't been this nervous about an audition in years. Staring at the long walk down the hallway, she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down, but to no avail. With a shaky sigh, she slowly turned to Fandral.
His face was gentle, supportive, and collected. He exuded this calmness that astounded her in her current state. He wasn't even remotely nervous for her. He was completely and confidently sure that she would be absolutely fine. That confidence in her somewhat managed to dull the sharpness of her nerves, if only for a moment, but that moment was greatly appreciated. Aemilia hadn't a clue as to what her emotional and mental state would be if he hadn't accompanied her. "Fandral, I…" she trailed off, unsure of what to say. He waited expectantly, but remained silent and didn't press. Rather than make him wait any longer, she simply went with, "Thank you. You're support – of both my music and my training — I simply can't thank you enough." His lips quirked up in a small smile. "You've been very patient with me, with a lot of things, and I know that must be frustrating—"
"Not for even a moment."
She smiled up at him in return before continuing, "Well…either way. Thank you. I am incredibly grateful."
He graciously nodded in recognition and replied with a smile, "You're very welcome, Aemilia. Now, go and show all those old pompous buffoons how it's really done."
Aemilia scoffed and rolled her eyes so hard it's a marvel they didn't get stuck. She playfully punched his shoulder, "Be careful about calling people buffoons. I'd hate to get slighted for the role because they think I'm friends with a rude, uncivilized, brute who is incapable of appreciating the arts."
"Hey," he chuckled. "I may be rude…and slightly uncivilized…and occasionally brutish." Aemilia couldn't help but giggle. "But. I can thoroughly appreciate the art of…the arts. I'm merely picky. Which is even more reason for you to get the role. If I support you, then anyone with half a brain should think the same."
She appreciated his attempts at distracting her. Believe it or not, it was working for the time being. Slightly.
"Well, here's hoping you're correct." He looked at her in a way that said Aren't I always? "I'll tell you how it went as soon as they dismiss me."
He placed his right hand on her shoulder in a final attempt to calm her. She couldn't tell if the contact eased her heart beat or made it worse. "I can't wait to hear you tell me your story of triumph." She laid her hand on top of his and lightly squeezed it. With one last look, her hazel eyes – which still looked quite nervous, though infinitely calmer than they were during the ride to the theatre – to his steady and warm turquoise, she turned around and left him to wait as she continued on alone.
In the few minutes she had left prior to her audition, she was able to warm up and still have some time to collect her thoughts as she waited for her turn. There were only about four other girls left backstage waiting to audition for, most likely, the same role she was. Two of them were unknowns, surely talented, but very young and inexperienced. One of them — Eerika, Aemilia recalled — had once been the prime soprano of the opera company until she was married off. Aemilia had actually been the one to step up and fill her shoes after the woman's nuptials. She had recently heard that Eerika's fairly new husband had been killed in a far-away battle, which likely explained why she was able to make another attempt at a singing career. Aemilia had wished her luck, but knew it was unlikely for her to be cast. The directors weren't typically keen of old faces and second chances. They were always looking for someone new to grace the stage—which was why Aemilia found herself most worried about the final girl, Yylva.
Aemilia had certainly been a rising star when she had been consistently performing in the theatre, royal galas, and other similar events. Her popularity had hit an all-time high during her last run with the opera, the very production that Loki and Frigga had gone to see, back when Loki and she had still been a secret and her engagement to Dagr was still intact. The majority of Asgard had certainly felt that she would dominate every soprano lead role for years and years to come, which Aemilia had been utterly ecstatic and ready for. However, before the next audition had even rolled around, Aemilia's life had been completely turned upside down. She hadn't even had a chance to think about holding down another lead role before she had discovered her pregnancy. Then there had been the miscarriage, Thor's banishment and Loki's subsequent rise to the throne, and… Well, in summary, Aemilia's priorities had quickly changed given her complicated situation, and her singing career simply hadn't been one for quite some time.
During her extended absence, Yylva had emerged as another young woman with strong talent and potential for greatness. She was around Aemilia's age, petite, and blonde, with a surprisingly strong soprano voice that possessed a richness and velvet-like quality to it that most sopranos didn't possess. Aemilia had a similar quality, but she was concerned that it no longer mattered.
She feared that she would simply be too late, and that the directors—despite her talent— would consider her old news, and therefore, not worth their time. Perhaps she had more in common with Eerika than she had thought.
Aemilia was shaken from her thoughts when Eerika reemerged from the audition room. The woman looked ridden with adrenaline and nerves, almost shell shocked. She simply stood there collecting her wits as Yylva stood and went in the room. Aemilia saw the two women make eye contact, and she witnessed the exact moment Eerika's shock turned to despair. Tears immediately sprung to her eyes, and rather than letting Aemilia see her cry, the woman quickly grabbed her things and bolted out of the room before Aemilia even had a chance to say anything.
If she had been anxious before, she was certainly terrified now.
She nervously twisted and turned the ring on her finger. In another attempt to calm down, she tried to distract herself by imagining what Loki would say to her in this situation.
Despite the months that had passed, it was as easy as breathing to know what he would say. With a scoff and a rather impressive roll of those green eyes, he would say Aemilia, don't be so ridiculous. Don't ever question your talent…for if you caught my eye, you are surely one of the most talented beauties in all the land. And, he would pause to tuck a stray hair behind her ear and to caress her check before continuing with, if you caught my heart, which I daresay you certainly did, you must truly be a goddess to behold. Now, Little One, be the strong, loving, and rare woman I know you to be, and not only will you beat your competition, but it will be likely that you will never have any competition ever again.
Aemilia looked up from her inner musings just as Yylva returned. The young woman didn't give away much on her face, but she looked pleased. Aemilia expected her anxiety to return ten-fold, but it manifested in a mild pang of nerves in her chest. Loki's words—whether a fabric of her imagination or otherwise—had awakened her old fierceness that had lain dormant within her since Loki's death. He had always brought out courage and strength in her.
With a huge exhale, she stood and faced the door. Loki's words still swirling in her head, she laid a small kiss to her ring, and walked through the door with her head held high.
She liked to think that Loki would've been proud of her.
Fandral waited by the door for what felt like ages. He was by no means privy to the auditioning process – Why would he be? – But, he was quite sure that Aemilia had been gone for an unusual amount of time.
He had been quite confident in her success, but now he was beginning to worry.
As the minutes ticked by, he unexpectedly found that he had been pacing in front of the doorway for nearly a half hour. And he had begun waiting a half hour before that.
He just hoped and prayed that she got the role. Aemilia had been working herself half to death, what with the constant training with the Queen for magic, hours upon hours of blocking attacks from Fandral's sword, throwing knives, building strength and endurance, and then on top of it all, training with her old voice teacher before the sun rose and late into the night. To be completely honest, Fandral was in absolute awe of her. He couldn't comprehend how she managed to do it all while maintaining her wit and vivacity for life.
He had initially been worried for her health when she had first adopted that beyond strenuous schedule, but he eventually stopped expressing his concern when he realized that her schedule was much healthier than the alternative: nothing. Doing nothing only served to provide her with an inordinate amount of time to think, and stew, and eventually bury herself in grief. Her schedule barely gave her enough time to breathe, let alone think. And as the months moved past, Fandral had witnessed her truly heal, rather than merely refusing to acknowledge her grief. Her once dim and forced grin transformed back into the sparkling large smile that she had always had. Her eyes still held a sadness about them in their hazel depths—and they probably always would—but she had regained their mischievous and curious spark once more.
Fandral had come to accept and acknowledge his brewing feelings for the Lady Aemilia. They were genuine, which was something he had not felt in nearly a millennia. If then. It was so obvious they would make a good pair, if they both chose to take that step. And in a way, they already were. They had always been good friends, but the past 9 months had brought them together to a level that he had never expected. He helped lift Aemilia's spirits, he made her laugh, and he also inspired her to keep moving and to never stop fighting. Likewise, she grounded him, challenged him (there weren't many women that possessed the quick, sharp mouth that Aemilia did), made him a better person, and had inadvertently helped him realize what an empty, lonely life he had been leading since…well, ever. They had been good friends first, then they had become true partners, who was to say that they couldn't be something even more?
Fandral loved Aemilia. Granted, he wasn't in love with her—it was much too early for that—but he did love her, and he knew she felt the same. However, Fandral was by no means stupid. He knew he would never fill the very large shoes that Loki had left, nor did he particularly want to. It was blatantly obvious to everyone that Loki and Aemilia had been ridiculously, wholeheartedly in love with a passion that burned so hotly that it almost burned them. Fandral did not expect or want that, nor should he. He would never be what Loki was to Aemilia. Their dynamic simply did not allow for it, but that does not belittle what they could clearly become with time if they were to try: a strong, light-hearted, stable couple that supports and loves one another, while making each other laugh so hard they could barely breathe.
Fandral did not want to replace Loki, which was why he had not mentioned his feelings to Aemilia ever since their talk after the festival four months ago. He still felt guilty for letting himself slip so much as to kiss her, so he did not have any intentions of pressuring Aemilia in any way ever again. If she wanted to eventually explore their potential, then she would be the one to instigate it.
Until then, Fandral merely took his role of friend and support system very seriously.
15 more minutes had passed. Where was that woman?
"If you pace any longer, you're going to run a hole into the floor."
He came to a stop and couldn't help but grin as he turned to see Aemilia standing in the doorway with an amused smirk on her face, looking free as a bird and like a thousand pounds had been lifted from her shoulders. That had to be good.
He approached her and eagerly asked, "So? Did you get it?"
A twinge of nervousness flashed in her eyes. "…It hasn't been decided yet. The directors said they had a lot to discuss, and they would send word of their decision tomorrow. But…it went well. I was very apprehensive at first, but…I think it's promising. And you know that I never just say that."
He rolled his eyes and offered her his arm. "Oh, I know! If you think it went well, then it must have gone very well, indeed!" Once she took the time to playfully punch him in the shoulder, she hooked her arm through his as he escorted her to the exit. "Now, I daresay you've had quite the eventful afternoon. What say you to telling me all about the audition on the way back to the palace, grabbing a bite to eat, and then meeting up with Thor, Elida, and the rest for a drink amongst friends?"
"I take it our normal late afternoon training session has been cancelled?"
He looked at her as if she had grown an extra head on her shoulders. "Is that a jest? Of course it's cancelled. All this stress for your audition has utterly exhausted me."
She scoffed at his absurd statement with a huge smile on her face, "Exhausted you? Oh, I am terribly sorry that I subjected you to such emotional turmoil!"
As they approached the awaiting coach, he replied, "That's alright," and leaned in closer and said very softly with all the mock seriousness in the world, "I forgive you."
"You are utterly impossible."
They both got in the coach and shut the door. "And by that, I'm sure you mean 'headstrong, confident, yet generous and yielding to those who need forgiveness'?"
"…If that makes you feel more secure in yourself."
"It does, thank you."
With the quiet sounds of her footsteps echoing through the vast halls, Frigga walked with purpose and resolve into the throne room where she knew that Odin and Thor were speaking with a few members of the King's council. Normally she would not intrude upon such a meeting without fair warning but, as fate would have it, she knew that what she had to say was far more important than anything that she would be interrupting.
When the doors to the throne room opened, all heads turned to look her way. She glanced at Thor first before looking directly at Odin and saying, "I must speak with you. Alone. It is urgent."
Odin eyed her curiously, knowing her more than well enough to know that whatever urgent thing had brought her there, it must be truly important indeed. He respected and valued her so that the idea of questioning the importance of her interruption never so much as crossed his mind. He didn't hesitate to dismiss the council members with nothing more than a firm nod, and as the men filed out of the room, Frigga told Odin softly, "The guards as well."
Odin raised an eyebrow, but he dismissed the guards without question nonetheless. Frigga began to walk towards Odin then, and when she passed Thor he began to turn to leave as well. However, Frigga stopped him with a gentle touch and told him, "Stay, my son. I need you to hear what I have to say."
With the doors to the throne room closed and full privacy granted to the royal family, Odin stepped close to his wife and son and said, "This is unlike you, Frigga. Tell me what has happened."
Frigga drew a deep breath, having done her best to plan how to say what needed to be said, but truly there was no way to prepare either Odin or Thor for the truth. It would be a shock regardless of her choice of words, so she decided to be upfront and as direct as possible.
"I have had a vision," she said, looking first to Odin and then to Thor. "And I know it to be true. Loki is alive."
The shock that bloomed across Thor's face was instant and obvious, with a hopeful glimmer in his eyes that appeared immediately after the initial shock had passed. She saw shock in Odin's eyes as well, but he was far more subdued in his reactions than their much younger son.
"He is alive?" Thor asked in disbelief. "How can you know? Are you sure? What did you see?"
Frigga took Thor's hand in a comforting, calming gesture and explained, "I have not stopped searching for Loki since his fall. I knew that there was only the smallest chance that he could survive, but if anyone could live through such a thing, it is Loki. And I was right. I have found him."
Thor broke out into a smile that broke Frigga's heart a little bit, while Odin continued to bear a more cautious expression. "This is wonderful news!" Thor exclaimed. "We must find him immediately and bring him home! We must -"
"Frigga," Odin interrupted gently, looking at his wife and knowing just from the slightly sad smile that she gave to Thor that there was much more to the story. "Tell us everything you know."
She drew another steadying breath. "He has been held on a dark, unknown world and was tortured badly. I saw it myself. The state that he was in... I am not sure that I could bear to describe it in words."
Thor's eyes widened and anger began to replace his previous shocked but joyful expression. "He is being tortured?"
"Not any longer," Frigga replied. "But I fear for what has become of him. I spoke to him and he saw me, but... he is not right. He is planning something, something that I fear is terrible. He is not operating fully of his own will."
"He is being controlled?" Odin asked.
"I do not believe that it is that simple," Frigga said worryingly. "He seems to be aware of himself and his surroundings, and he recognized me, but I believe that he has been tortured and manipulated into something very dangerous."
"By whom?" Odin asked, while Thor looked between his parents with increasing distress and confusion.
"I know the Other to be involved; I could feel his aura," Frigga replied. "But I sensed a much greater power at work. I could not determine the exact location of the realm, but I know that we can find him."
Odin frowned, looking to the floor as he said, "This is... troubling."
"Please," Frigga said, stepping closer to Odin and prompting him to look her in the eye. "We must begin a proper search for Loki immediately. If we announce that he survived the fall and enlist all of the help that we can gather, then surely we can locate him and bring him home."
"I can lead the search, Father," Thor added. "Perhaps the Bifrost can be repaired more quickly, and then -"
"No," Odin said, his sole eye betraying his sadness but grim expression resolute. "We must tell no one of Loki's survival. And any search efforts must remain between only us."
Frigga felt her heart drop in her chest, and it wasn't for the first time that day. "Odin, please," she begged. "He is our son. You cannot leave him to the mercy of the vile creatures that I have seen in my visions."
"I do not intend to," Odin told her. "We will find him and bring him home. But first we must watch and wait. Until we know more, acting too hastily could result in his death, or the deaths of others."
"But Father," Thor said with the same sadness in his tone that Frigga felt in her very bones, "he could be killed while we wait. He already survived a terrible fate - we cannot leave him to die in the hands of whoever has dared to capture him." He paused, eyes flickering as the memory of watching Loki fall into the abyss beneath the destroyed Bifrost flashed through his mind, "I cannot leave him to die."
"We will do nothing of the sort," Odin assured him. "But we know that Loki is dangerous. He was dangerous before he fell, and we must not delude ourselves to think that the horrors that he has undoubtedly endured since then has not made him even more dangerous. We will wait and watch him closely. And when we know what forces are at work and what Loki is planning, then we shall act."
Frigga was just as unhappy as Thor was with this decree, but they could not challenge their King. Even if they could, logic told them both that Odin was likely right. But that didn't make the decision any easier to deal with.
"I will inform Heimdall and have him begin the search. Until Loki has been safely brought home," Odin added, eyeing both his wife and son carefully, "this knowledge does not spread beyond the four of us."
Frigga and Thor shared a brief but heavy look, and they knew that they were both thinking of the same person in the short moment of silence that followed. Frigga then gently spoke up, "Lady Aemilia, she deserves to know the truth after all that she has endured."
"It is precisely what she has endured that makes it even more imperative that she knows nothing of this," Odin replied, leaving no room for argument. "We must all take care to not raise our hopes. Even if we bring Loki home, we have no guarantee that he will be the man he once was. And if this ends badly and we are not able to bring him home alive..."
"... Then she will not have had to mourn his death twice, as we will," Thor said quietly, his eyes pained as he reluctantly agreed with his father.
Frigga did not want to take on the burden of lying to Aemilia. A lifetime of lying to Loki had proved disastrous with consequences that she could not have foreseen even in her darkest dreams, and the thought of continuing to withhold Loki's survival from Aemilia was almost unconscionable. But... so was the thought of building up Aemilia's hopes only to watch them crash and leave her devastated all over again. She had come so far and had begun truly healing, and if, Valhalla forbid, Loki met yet another terrible fate... Frigga wasn't sure that Aemilia could come back from losing Loki twice.
And so, while she did not like the arrangement one bit, she agreed to the King's conditions and resolved to continue keeping the secret until Loki was found and safely brought home. After Odin and Thor spoke amongst themselves for a few more moments, Odin left the throne room on his own to speak with Heimdall on what was left of the Bifrost and give him detailed and confidential instructions. This left Frigga and Thor alone for a few moments, both of them quiet until Thor reached for his mother and pulled her into a hug.
Frigga sunk into the embrace, relieved that she was no longer the only one who knew of Loki's survival. But the relief of that burden was minuscule compared to the much greater one on her heart, and that one would only be relieved once Loki was home and safe once more.
"I have seen terrible things," she confessed to Thor, holding him tightly. "I fear how this will end."
"I will do everything I can to bring him home, Mother," Thor assured her, pulling away to look at her as he told her this. "I promise you this."
Frigga nodded, eyes a little bit watery as she drew a breath. "I know you will."
Thor hugged her again, and she drew what strength she could from the comfort, knowing that what would come next would be the hardest part of all. Waiting.
"Aemilia, my dear, I wasn't expecting you!"
Aemilia stood in the foyer of the unsuspecting Queen's chambers, "I'm sorry. I should have asked before just showing up unannounced, especially at this hour, but…I need to speak with you."
Frigga paused for a moment, her eyebrows pulling into a slightly concerned look before she gently waved her in. "Of course. Please, come in."
Aemilia had gone to get a few drinks in the tavern with Fandral and the rest, and as soon as she sat down, she had trouble escaping her thoughts. For the past few months, she had relatively ignored the mild conflict she had felt in regards to her possible feelings for Fandral. They were merely good friends, and would probably remain just that for a very long time. But recently, as Aemilia began to open up to the idea of eventual romance again…she would catch her thoughts wandering to Fandral quite frequently.
Then, taking into account her surprisingly rational talk with Ayre that day, Aemilia decided she couldn't really ignore it any longer. However, she was so confused and unsure of what to do, she knew she had to speak with someone for their advice. Certainly not her mother. And despite their vastly improved relationship, she did not want to speak of such things with Haidr. Elida was too busy with her own auditions, and Aemilia feared the younger woman lacked a certain wisdom that was required for her predicament. Thus, she had decided that she would speak with Frigga that evening about it in hopes that it would put her mind and feelings at ease.
Frigga sat down on a loveseat in her sitting area, gesturing for Aemilia to sit next to her. As she did, Frigga softly said, "Speak your mind, dear."
Aemilia anxiously fidgeted in her seat before tentatively starting, "I met with my mother for breakfast this morning."
Frigga placed a reassuring hand on her knee, "That's wonderful, Aemilia! How was it?"
Her lips quirked up in an amused smile, "Surprisingly civil, which is certainly a step in the right direction."
"I am thrilled that the two of you have begun the journey to reconciliation, my dear. A child should never be estranged from her mother, despite their differences." Frigga paused to assess the young woman's face. "…But, I suspect that the mending of your relationship with Lady Ayre is not what you wanted to speak with me about."
Aemilia sighed, unsure of how to begin. "...No it's not. It's actually something that my mother spoke with me about this morning."
It was impossible to miss Aemilia's unease. "Aemilia, darling, whatever it is, you know I will show no judgement or scorn, merely my advice and support."
She nodded appreciatively, knowing that Frigga spoke the truth despite her anxiety. Before she could continue thinking about it any harder and talk herself out of it, she simply just started speaking in hopes she could express her thoughts clearly. "Well, Ayre brought it to my attention that, because of my 'age and vitality', it is expected of me by traditional Asgardian culture that I must…finish mourning quickly and begin a search for possible suitors once more. Of course I knew of this before, but I had chosen to ignore it until now."
Unbeknownst to Aemilia, the dread in Frigga's heart that had been growing since the early morning hit her so hard in the chest that she almost struggled to breathe. The sense of guilt that settled in her entire being was so strong that she had only felt it to this magnitude once before: the day Loki willingly let go of Gungnir and fell to his supposed death, all because she had failed to be truthful with him. Now this beautiful, kind-hearted woman that Frigga considered her own was coming to her for advice regarding finding a new suitor, completely unaware that her love was still alive.
Of course, she didn't let Aemilia see such an internal struggle. "And…you seek out my advice on whether you should become publically available once more to possible courtships?"
"Well, it's a bit more…complicated than that, I'm afraid."
"How so?"
"Well, I have already received a…proposition of courtship. Or at least, someone has let their interest be known to me."
Another stab of guilt pulsated through Frigga's chest and Aemilia revealed more details. She wanted to tell the truth to Aemilia so badly, for both her guilt from lying and a hope that Loki would return and they could be together once more. But Odin – much to her dismay – was right. If Frigga told her of Loki's survival, only for Loki to never return the same, if it all…she couldn't do that to her.
"Oh, I see. Who is this possible suitor?"
"Well, it's because of who it is that I needed to speak with you. If it were just anyone, I probably would've laughed at their impudence and sent them away. But it isn't just a random nobleman I hardly know, and I feel I would be foolish to not at least consider the possibilities of…more."
"Aemilia, dear, am I to charm this man's name from your tongue?" the Queen lightly asked with a small smile.
The younger woman chuckled quietly before continuing, "No, I'm sorry, I'm just…nervous, I suppose." Aemilia glanced up from her fidgeting hands to meet Frigga's empathetic gaze. With a sigh, she thought to Hel with it and said, "It's Fandral."
Frigga was both surprised and not at all. Quite frankly, she should have seen it coming. Aemilia then went on to tell Frigga everything that had happened between her and Fandral, from the kiss at the festival and the guilt that followed it, to all that Fandral had told her the next day, and to his daily and unwavering support. The Queen listened silently through the entirety of her retellings, attempting to wisely gather her thoughts. "So," Aemilia continued, "it's because of all of that, that I've begun to consider him. I feel as though I would be insane not to."
"Is logic the driving force behind your thoughts towards courting Lord Fandral? Because, if that is so, my dear, I would advise to never make a decision that isn't from your heart as well."
She seemed to genuinely ponder the question before saying quite firmly, "No, it is not just logic. I won't deny that it has a hand in it, but I do feel…something for Fandral. I cannot place exactly what they are yet, but I know that it has evolved over the months, grown stronger." She paused and looked down, twiddling with the glistening ring that still wrapped around her finger. "It isn't…it isn't anything like the passion I felt for Loki. My love for him was—is—stronger than anything I've ever experienced. It's all encompassing. I can feel it in the deepest corners of my very soul." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but her voice stayed strong. "But, Loki isn't here anymore. And even though I may never truly recover from that loss, or feel that strongly towards someone else, I don't want that heartbreak to keep me from seeing an opportunity that could bring me a sense of happiness and companionship again."
"And you certainly deserve that and more, my darling," Frigga said, gently grasping at the woman's hand and giving it a supportive squeeze.
"…I just have one thing to ask of you."
"Anything."
"Your blessing."
That made Frigga pause in surprise, "My…what?"
Aemilia slid closer to the older woman and replied, "You knew Loki more than anyone in all the Realms. More than the All-Father, Thor, and myself combined. I'm asking you to give me your blessing on Loki's behalf. And if you think it unwise, tell me now and I shall not pursue anything that we have spoken of tonight."
This was all too overwhelming. "Aemilia, I—"
"I know that this is too much to ask of you, but I don't think I could ever move on in good conscience without it. If I'm going to do this, I want to do it free of guilt."
Though Frigga's guilt weighed unbearably heavily on her heart and she could hardly stand it, she knew from the moment those words left Aemilia's mouth what she would do. Though she would undoubtedly never truly feel at peace so long as Aemilia was still kept in the dark regarding Loki's fate, however events unfolded, doing so was still the wisest course of action. She only wanted for Aemilia to be happy, and if this potential courtship was something that might one day bring her true happiness... what else could she do but give her full and heartfelt blessing?
"Aemilia, I give you my blessing. You deserve all the happiness in the Nine."
A bittersweet, yet very genuine smile appeared across the girl's face. For this was the start of new beginnings, but also an end to the most impactful chapter of her life thus far…and the person she shared it with.
The two stood and embraced with held back tears in their eyes, and after many thanks and expressions of gratitude, Aemilia bid Frigga goodnight, leaving the Queen to face a tidal wave of sweeping and extraordinary guilt alone.
That night, after Aemilia had returned to her chambers and prepared for a night of desperately needed rest, she made a decision. She had been through so much, and after months of self-loathing and guilt and grief, she had finally reached a healthier state of mind that helped her realize that she deserved to be happy if she so chose.
The memory of Loki would always be with her, in the back of her mind and heart, but it was time to move on.
And so, it was that night that—with a tender kiss to the luminescent stone on her finger and a single tear trailing down her cheek—she moved the ring from her slightly shaky left hand to a long, silver chain around her neck, nestled next to her heart.
The next day, Lord Fandral moved about his seemingly-normal, slightly monotonous day. After meticulously sharpening his sword in the early hours of the morning, and taking part in a rather humiliating sparring session with Lady Sif, he found himself quite bored, especially since it was one of the two days in the week that Aemilia did not train with him. The Realms had been sufficiently quiet as well, so he wasn't expecting Thor to march into the training arena with a mission for him any time soon. In fact, Thor had been keeping to himself a lot recently. Fandral liked to assume that the Prince was just busy with issues that only concerned the Royal Family, but he feared that something else was amiss. Thor was not one to be distant.
So, with all of his weaponry immaculately sharpened and polished and not a mission or extraneous task for him to take care of, Fandral had accepted that this day would be a lonely one. That is, until an older woman that Fandral recognized as Aemilia's handmaiden approached him in the workshop by the armory.
"Lord Fandral?" she asked, standing in the doorway.
"Yes! Hello…Gunvarr, is it?" he inquired, rising from his chair to greet her. She seemed genuinely surprised he could recall her name.
"Yes, my Lord."
"I believe this is the first time I've officially had the pleasure of meeting you. Aemilia frequently mentions you with an unmistakable amount of fondness."
A very real smile graced the old woman's face. It was clear the amount of admiration she held for Aemilia. "I must say that the same is for you, my Lord."
He playfully grinned, "Aw, come now, my Lady. We all know that Lady Aemilia must refrain from physical violence towards me at least three times a day. She simply can't handle my infuriatingly quick wit and charm."
Gunvarr heartily laughed, not an ounce of shyness to dilute the vigor of her guffaw. Fandral took quite the liking to the woman. "That may be true, my Lord, but we both know, despite that, the Lady Aemilia still manages to hold you to quite the standard."
"I certainly try my best," his grin still firmly in place. "Now, I'm assuming you're here for Aemilia?"
"Oh! Yes!" she exclaimed, digging through the pocket in her dress. She eagerly pulled a small note with a wax seal. "The lady sent me to give you this and return with your answer."
He quirked a curious eyebrow at the handmaiden and down to the note before taking it and delicately breaking the seal. His eyes met lavish, intricate handwriting that no doubt belonged to Aemilia.
Fandral,
I am in desperate need to escape the palace grounds this evening. Meet me at the palace steps this evening for an early dinner at the Grand Hall and a stroll around town?
Aemilia
The note was short and simple, but Fandral knew there had to be more to it. He hoped she was well. She was supposed to hear from the theatre with the official cast list that morning—that was it. She must have nailed it and wanted to celebrate. Rightly so.
With a smile, he looked up from the note to the awaiting Gunvarr. "Shall I give you my reply verbally or should I write a note back?"
She coyly smiled, "Well, my Lord, you're welcome to give it to me verbally, but I daresay I'm older and my memory is faulty. It might be best write the Lady."
With a raised eyebrow and charming smirk, he chuckled, "I do believe you are right, Lady Gunvarr. Give me a moment, if you please."
"Take all the time you need!" she called out as Fandral sought out paper and a pen. He quickly wrote in his—somewhat inadequate, he now realized—scrawl: It would be my pleasure to escort you to dinner. I'll meet you two hours before sundown. Then, with a quick shake to make the ink dry, he folded the note and gave it to Gunvarr, who was still waiting by the door. "Thank you, my Lord. I'll get this to the Lady right away."
"Yes, good. Don't dally now," he grinned with a clearly playful tone.
The woman chuckled and before she turned to leave, said, "You know, you remind me of my late husband." She paused to look at him a bit more before shamelessly adding, "He wasn't nearly as good looking, though." Then she left without even a glance back while Fandral whole-heartedly laughed, fully impressed and charmed by Aemilia's endearing yet rough-around-the-edges handmaiden. She had mentioned that the Queen had personally assigned Gunvarr to assist Aemilia, and Fandral could not approve more of Queen Frigga's tastes.
After his laughter faded, he realized he had something to look forward to on this day after all.
Fandral arrived before Aemilia did, but thankfully not by too much. He hadn't wanted her to be alone outside waiting for him, so he deliberately showed early. He didn't mind. It was a lovely evening, the sun hanging low in the sky, a light breeze, and he could smell the magically sweet scent of the Queen's roses from where he stood on the palace steps.
When the grand entry doors opened, Fandral turned to see Aemilia and immediately felt as though he had gotten the wind knocked right from his lungs at the sight of her. She stepped through the doors with a natural grace that one can only be born with. The dress she wore was made of a light, airy fabric that flowed with each light rustle of wind, and it was a radiant sky blue color with golden embroidery. Her hair was up and intricately braided in almost a halo of auburn. What makeup she wore was extremely subtle, but only managed to enhance the ethereal glow that radiated from her being. Needless to say, he found himself speechless. So, naturally, she was the first to speak.
"You're early," she said with a small smile, stopping in front of him.
He smiled back and gave a light, breathy chuckle before managing, "A gentleman never lets a lady wait. Of course, I'm no gentleman…but I figured I'd give it my best shot."
Her small smile turned to a full-fledged grin as she laughed. "Well, either way, you certainly look the part. You look very nice tonight, Fandral," she said sincerely. In all honesty, Aemilia had been quite taken aback when she had seen him. He had always been attractive and well put-together, but she rarely saw him outside of a sparring session. Now, his normally scruffy blonde hair had been brushed back so his eyes were fully visible for once. He traded in the heavy armor for a light, ivory tunic, dark brown pants, black leather riding boots, his sword and sheathe—he was never without it—and a long, dark blue leather jacket. He looked…much more than nice, to say the least.
"Thank you. You look…" he trailed as if he were trying to find the words, "lovelier than ever." If he didn't know better, he almost thought he saw a light tinge of pink color her cheeks. Her eyes met his and he could tell something was different. It was subtle, but…it was there. A certain airiness. A lightness. "So, am I to know the reason for this little gathering?" he asked with an inquisitive eyebrow raised.
Her originally subdued smile suddenly became wide and exuberant and happy. "Well," she began, "You never wavered in your support of me with my audition yesterday, so I figured there was no one else I would rather celebrate with."
His eyes widened, "So you got the part?"
With a huge smile she nodded and joyfully confirmed, "I got the part!"
Before Aemilia could even blink, Fandral had let out a triumphant "Aha!" and scooped her up in his arms in a giant, crushing hug that swept her off her feet. She couldn't help but giggle at his enthusiasm as he spun her around. "I knew you would!" he added just over her shoulder, and Aemilia discovered herself smiling wider than she had in months.
He then gently set her down and immediately offered up his arm for her, "Now, let's get some dinner and you can tell me all about it, shall we?"
She looked up at him with a sparkle in her gaze and, hooking her arm through his, definitively said, "With pleasure."
Dinner seemed to fly by as Aemilia recounted all that she had learned about the auditions and what the directors had said about her. Elida had been very helpful, since she had been rehearsing while the director's had been deliberating between her and Yylva and had just happened to overhear them talking. Apparently it had been a split between them, but the previous director of the Aemilia's lead operatic debut—a fairly progressive older man by the name of Asmund—had been very adamant about wanting to stand by Aemilia. Apparently she was the easiest person he had ever gotten to work with.
Elida also hadn't spared her any details about her slightly "scandalous" social status could bring a negative connotation to the show, with her being a banished noble woman who practically moved in—unmarried—with the lesser Prince of Asgard after a terribly short engagement to a perfectly upstanding member of the Royal Guard. But Asmund and a few others who had the chance to work with Aemilia already did not let that sway them. In fact, according to Elida, Asmund had simply said, "If anyone wants to see her performance simply because of her personal life, then they are there for the wrong reasons. This is about music. This is about the artistry that can come from one's voice. And Lady Aemilia is simply the finest damn vocal artist I have ever seen in all my 4,000 years."
To put it simply, Asmund deserved the biggest hug Aemilia could muster and the performance of her life.
Fandral listened quietly and attentively, only speaking to ask questions and to interject a chuckled, "I must meet this Asmund, I feel as though we might get along."
Eventually, they finished their rather satisfying dinner and had managed to wander into the nearest village as the sun began to set. There was a light, warm breeze with not a cloud in sight as the sky slowly turned vibrant hues of violet and orange and red. The two talked about anything and everything, never struggling to find a new subject matter, and never finding their intermittent silences uncomfortable. They simply enjoyed each other's company on that beautiful evening. Fandral, however, still felt as if Aemilia was holding something back from him, but he didn't press. She would reveal it to him when she was ready.
Just before the sun officially set, they came across a public garden and park with a small hedge maze that was currently adorned in beautiful wild flowers. It was certainly not as extravagant as the Queen's, but it was beautiful all the same, especially under the freshly lit torches that lit the way and what was left of the luminescent pink that painted the sky. Neither of them had ever been to that particular part of the village, so they decided to take a stroll through the maze before they were to return to the palace.
They walked silently through, enjoying the tranquil atmosphere, until Fandral looked down to see a small, slightly mischievous grin toying with Aemilia's lips. "What are you grinning about?"
She glanced up at him before returning her gaze to the flowers by her feet, her grin growing more pronounced. "Oh, nothing, I just…had a thought."
"And were you planning on sharing?" he asked, his amused eyes fully trained on her.
"Nothing, just…I bet I can beat you to the center of the maze."
Fandral stopped, and she followed, looking up at him again with that same playful glint and the reflection of a nearby torch ironically reflecting in her eyes. "Is that a challenge, my Lady?"
"Oh, most definitely," she said, taking a step closer to him.
Fandral swallowed at her vicinity before continuing, "Well, what is the prize of this said challenge?"
She considered that for a moment, "If you win, I will help you orchestrate a prank on anyone of your choosing, with the help of my magic." That was certainly a good prize. "And if I win, I get a week off training and you will go with me to the opening night of Elida's ballet."
He furrowed his brows in thought, taking in the almost devilish look on Aemilia's face. "…I accept your terms. Prepare your spells, my Lady, for the prank of the century…that may or may not be illegal."
She raised an eyebrow and took another step towards him. "Oh, my dear, darling Fandral," she said quietly. To Fandral's upmost surprise, she then reached up and grasped a stray blonde hair that was precariously swaying in his eyes and smoothed it back on his head. His heart immediately responded to the scarce touch and he found himself holding in a breath. "How naïve you are."
And with that, she stepped back, pulled the long fabric of her dress up, kicked off her shoes, and bolted through the maze, turning the corner before Fandral could even blink. An exuberant, giggly cry of "Catch me if you can!" came from the bushes, which managed to snap him out of it.
With a roll of his eyes at his own reaction, he chuckled to himself and took off into the evening light after her.
It became very clear very quickly that the two of them had taken different paths to reach the center of the maze. Aemilia had managed to come to two dead ends, while Fandral only had been stuck once, putting them at equal playing fields after Aemilia's head start. Aemilia took another right, and at the end of another long stretch, she could see the end. Heart racing and breathing hard, she sprinted towards the awaiting marble benches and fountain, unaware that Fandral was coming in full-speed the opposite way.
They reached the end at the very same moment, much to their detriment. Just as Aemilia slowed to a stop, Fandral took his final left turn and ran into her before his brain could even comprehend that she was in his way.
With a surprised gasp from her, they collided and their world immediately turned sideways as they fell to the ground. Fandral managed to twist himself in a way that allowed Aemilia to fall on top of him, rather than the other way around, and they hit the soft green grass with an oof! and a slight groan from Fandral taking the brunt of it.
Both of them breathing impossibly hard and slightly stunned from the fall, they both just laid there for a few minutes, trying to calm their aching lungs.
Eventually, Aemilia let out a breathy giggle from on top of Fandral and said, "I win."
It only took that one statement to set them both off in a fit of laughter and giggles. Unaware of their actions amidst their laughter, Fandral wrapped an arm around her small waist and Aemilia rest her head on his broad shoulder as they chuckled at their plight. Aemilia could feel the vibrations of Fandral's full and free laughter radiate through his chest while Fandral felt the little bursts of air that escaped Aemilia's lips as she giggled into his shoulder. It was those sensations that made them realize their current position.
Their laughter faded, but neither of them moved. Eventually, Aemilia lifted her head from his shoulder to look him in the eye. His smile had fallen, but his gaze focused in on her, as if he was waiting for her to say something. They still didn't move.
Her previously settled heart started fluttering again for entirely different reasons. "I…I've been thinking about what you said, Fandral."
"When?"
A light pink bloomed across her cheeks and chest, though she doubted he could see it, given the very dim sunlight. But he did. "The, uh, morning after Lithasblot." His eyebrows raised in response, urging her to continue. "More accurately," she corrected, "I've been thinking about us."
She couldn't help but notice his eyes widen in surprise, but she kept going, despite the sudden onslaught of nerves. "We would have to move slowly, but…if you'll still have me, I am ready and want to explore what we could become."
His gaze searched hers for a moment before his lips turned up in a small, genuine smile. "If you are certain, nothing would make me happier."
With a breathless laugh of relief, Aemilia found herself unable to reply verbally, so she did the only thing she could—and wanted-to do. Placing an elegant, smooth hand on his cheek, trailing a long finger down his jaw and along the lines of his neatly trimmed facial hair. Underneath her left hand, which was firmly planted on the hard planes of his chest, felt his heart pick up speed along with hers as she lightly grazed his full, bottom lip with her thumb nail. The hand that was wrapped around her waist tightened, a silent message, urging her to continue.
With one last intense look into his hazel eyes, she closed the distance between them, her lips softly landing on his in a somewhat chaste but full and long-awaited kiss. Aemilia anxiously waited to see if that same feeling of guilt that she had been plagued with after their first kiss would return, but it never did. And it was with a big smile and a free heart that she deepened the kiss, burying her hands into his soft hair and relishing in the feeling of being totally liberated from her burdens.
Loki's ring still remained nestled between her breasts and next to her heart, signifying her love and acknowledgement of her past, but her now free left hand that was lightly tangled in Fandral's blonde hair signified her acceptance and eagerness to discover her new future.