Chapter 4

-o-o-o-

Bryn sighed, revelling in the peacefulness, the tranquillity and newfound freedom. Light flitted through the leaves of the trees above her, warming her as she slowly walked across the cooling lush grass of the palace gardens. The realm itself was burning brightly, reaching out to her in welcome with burning hues of gold and white. With crystalline waters and life in every breath; Asgard was beauty to behold indeed. There were no words for it. Bryn was taken aback once again by its magnificence as she leisurely wandered through the open gardens. Its entirety was a symbol, an everlasting sign of life; of the wilting of the old and the regrowth of the new. Never before had she seen such perfection in a single place. Never before had she felt such serenity, a place that could soothe the soul just by standing amongst its splendour.

It had been many days now since she had come here with Thren and the others. Within that time Bryn had never tasted and savoured the richness of life as she had in these moments. The Queen, Frigga, had given strict orders for Bryn to rest, but every morning she would wake to a world that was open and free for the taking. Bryn did not waste a single moment of it. Every morning she would take a hot bath, she would even use a comb to brush her short hair with; a strange simple action that she oddly took much satisfaction from doing. These were such simple tasks, yet Bryn felt like a lady of such luxury. Each morning a maid would come bearing gifts of honeyed bread and warm goats milk, which she savoured, for it had been so long since she had tasted anything so sweet and delicious. The young woman would comment about Bryn's strange preference of sleeping upon the floor, but would never push the issue or force her to move into the bed, much to Bryn's relief. Some habits will die hard, it would seem.

The days would be spent however Bryn pleased. She could explore for hours, sleep, draw, watch the world go by, and even meet with Thren and the others who had taken to training with some of the other Asgardian men. This time, however, was her favourite part of the day. She loved to simply walk, to feel the wind on her skin, to hear the birds sing and the tree's rustling above her head.

It's all so very beautiful, she thought as she passed beneath a low hanging apple tree, reaching up to gently pluck a ripened fruit from its offering branch. Her teeth sank into it and her eyes closed, savouring it. Tasting its texture, its succulent juices rolling across her taste buds, making her…

The low rumbling of voices in the distance caused her to pause. It was followed by a clang of metal upon metal in a sharp, violent sound that rang straight to Bryn's ears. The noise came again, followed by the low grunting of men in the distance.

" Go on, Fandral! He's weakening!"

Apple forgotten, Bryn found her feet moving in the direction of the commotion. What was happening? The grunts came again, followed by the slashing of blades. Fighting. Someone was fighting. Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest, her stomach dropping in a sensation she could only describe as dread and fear.

Her legs moved her forward, stopping within a shadowed arch before an open stone courtyard. Her eyes widened and took in the scene that was revealed to her.

" What's this? You said you wanted to spar, not roll around in the dirt, Volstagg. Have you been drinking again?"

It was the fair haired warrior, the one they had called 'Fandral' who stood at the middle of the yard, sword in hand, staring in an almost bored fashion at the brute of a man in front of him. Said brutish man, Volstagg, glared at the younger male before straightening from his fallen crouch.

With ease the bearded one lifted his huge axe in his hands and pointed its sharp head at his smirking opponent, "Your cheek will be the end of you. I merely lost my balance, that is all."

Low laughter hummed around the clearing and it was in that moment the Bryn realised they were not alone. Glancing briefly around, she recognised the others that watched them. The broad Prince Thor stood at one side, watching them with his other companions, Hogan the grim and the raven haired warrioress, Sif. Whatever the two fighting males had been doing had obviously been amusing to them. Despite the ferocity in which the duo charged at each other, they did not seem at all concerned with the fight. If anything, they almost looked like they were watching two squabbling children, rather than a grappling pair of fully grown men.

"Go easy on him, Fandral." Thor spoke up, grinning at them both, " He's looking as though he is about to faint. He has not eaten a single morsel since he picked up his axe."

They all laughed again, which was rewarded with an ominous growl from the larger warrior.

Intrigued, Bryn moved closer to one of columns beside her, wanting to get a closer look. The shadows surrounded her from their sight as she watched them. The handsome one, Fandral was quick and precise with his movements. Whilst the bigger one, Volstagg, was slower but more powerful. His strong arms wielding the heavy axe with such dexterity, that all it would take is one hit and the fight would be over. The small crowd around them applauded as Volstagg managed to knock the blade out of the Fandral's hands, but he was quick enough to dive for it before being struck.

" Come on old man, you're getting slower with each passing day." Fandral goaded.

"I'll give you old man..."

Weapons forgotten, the two grappled each other to the ground. Kicking up dust as they rolled around, trying to gain the upper hand on one another. They were equally matched, both as good in battle as the other. Yet at the same time there was a playfulness about them. Even though they spouted threats to one another, Bryn could see they were very close friends and meant no true harm to one another.

" Stop pulling on my beard!" Came a disgruntled bellow from the tangle of limbs.

" Get off me, you great oaf! Admit your defeat!" came the reply.

" Perhaps you should give up on the cockiness, boy, it is fooling no one!"

" Yes, well, perhaps you should give up on the meat and ale because you weigh a tonne!"

" Why, you arrogant little..."

The others were chuckling along at them and before she could stop herself, Bryn's lips began to lift up slowly into a smile. She could feel the silent laughter bubbling up from within her belly.

She glanced around to each of them in turn and was all of a sudden taken aback by a startling pair of green eyes watching her from the other side of the courtyard. The joy clogged in her throat…

For there, sat upon the stone cloistered bench of the archway was the second Prince, Loki. He wore his usual attire of dark emeralds and midnight blacks. His booted legs stretched out across the marbled seat, his back to a column. A book lay open but long forgotten, resting against his lap. He appeared indifferent, as if uninterested in the behaviour of his fellow companions.

His eyes watched Bryn silently, levelled on her with an intensity that was beyond the simple, friendly curiosity the others had shown to her. It was almost eerie. So stark and blatant that it made heat rush up into her face. Bryn had to look away from him, unable to hold the contact. She felt the overbearing need to take a step back further into the protection of the shadows. She wanted to do anything to get away from his prying gaze.

" Good Morrow, Bryndolyn."

A familiar feminine voice greeted from behind her. Bryn turned to find the golden Queen, Frigga, standing nought but a few steps away, smiling at her. The long folds of her silken gown trailing behind her as she approached closer.

Taken aback, Bryn dipped her head in respect and greeting.

" How fare you this beautiful morning?" She asked.

Bryn smiled at her, rewarding her with a slight nod. She spoke not a word, but the meaning was understood. Since the very beginning Frigga had been kind to her and had taken her under her wing. The gentleness of her words and eyes was enough to make any feeling soul flock to her, her brightness simply drew everyone to her.

" I am glad to see you are getting some fresh air and have taken to walking about the gardens." Her wise eyes fell across to the scuffling pair, before shaking her head and said, " I have been looking for you. Come." Frigga reached for Bryns hand and looped it through her arm, drawing her away from the crowd and back towards the palace. "Let us walk together, I wish to discuss something with you."

Bryn followed her, curious, but not before glancing back at the small group. They all clapped as the two fighting males broke apart and shook hands in friendly agreement.

Bryn's eyes turned almost hesitantly again to the dark haired prince, who was still sitting on the bench, watching them walk away. Something inside of her told her to look away, but the instant their gazes met, she was caught. This time she found she could not look away from him, even if the gods demanded it so. His bright eyes seemed to hold her there, delving deeply. There was something both unpleasant and beguiling about them.

And it was eerily unsettling.

His lips moved then, curving up slowly into a sly smirk. Bryn's breath caught in her throat, the pit of her belly rolling with both unease and unexpected pleasure of how attractive he was when he smiled; even when it was a cold one.

Bryn lowered her gaze and turned her head away only to find the Queen looking at her with a strange expression.

"You stare at my son most intently, my dear," Frigga spoke as they continued to walk towards the palace and away from view, "Does he catch your interest?"

Bryn paused suddenly, pulling Frigga to a halt beside her. Fire seared up her neck and cheeks at what the Queen was insinuating. Bryn's mouth opened, her lips moving, trying to find the words as she shook her head with great resolution.

The Queens eyes twinkled at her. "I can see why. He is rather handsome is he not?" She whispered down to her, delighting it seems in seeing Bryn flounder for some form of reply. "They both are. As you can imagine, as their mother, I am very proud of the men they have both become."

They continued to walk, following the path up to a wide set of marble steps that led up into the palace. Its great magnificent stone archways stood tall and almost imposing. Like a secret doorway into the unknown, only what lay beyond was beauty and safety. Instead of heading inside, the Queen turned and carried on walking through the surrounding cloisters. Before them lay the open world of the golden realm and the eternal skies beyond. A single structure stood obvious against its black canvas, a beacon of light against the vastness of stars and space.

The rainbow bridge that led into other worlds only told about in stories.

The Bifröst.

"It is beautiful, isn't it." Bryn turned to find the Queen gazing at it, her eyes reflecting its dazzling light and colour. " It is quite the vision." She sighed deeply, her voice light with awe and wonder. " I never get tired of looking it. Sometimes we get so used to seeing it that we forget to stop and gaze at it in wonder. At the wonder that is Asgard... our home."

Bryn flinched, feeling a sharp stab in her chest at that one single word. She turned her head to stare out at the huge bridge and the dome shaped architecture beyond. A wistfulness filled her, causing her throat to grow tighter. Her hand unconsciously tightened upon the arm that was linked through hers.

The Queen turned to her suddenly, as though just seeing her now for the first time. Her face was a mirror, reflecting the sadness Bryn felt back at her. "You, yourself, wish to know of home, no doubt?"

Bryn lowered her eyes briefly and swallowed the lump in her throat.

Home. It was what everyone craved and desired above all things. It was where family was, yet she no longer had a family anymore. Did she even have a home to go to any more? With a heaviness she looked up at the skies that surrounded the two of them and the universe that expanded beyond. So wide and so large a universe, but one that had no meaning or place for her. Not any more.

"Bryndolyn," Frigga stepped to stand before her, clasping her hand gently, "I do have some news for you... Of Vanaheim."

Hope flared in Bryn's chest.

" It has reached us that Vanaheim is safe and unharmed."

Bryn could have shouted in joy if she could, instead a brilliant smile spread itself across her face in stark relief, her eyes bright with the joy that lay within.

"The king has decided to keep some of our own there to guard it, should there be any future attacks. There is much damaged to be repaired, but I think with our help we can rebuild what was once lost and you and your friends can return home."

Whatever possessed Bryn in that second, she did not know. But all of a sudden she wrapped her arms around the Queen and pulled her into a tight grip, embracing her with all the thanks and gratitude she could muster. The Queen, though startled at first, burst out into sudden laughter and returned the gesture. When they pulled away from each other, Bryn's vision was blurred with tears and through them she could see Frigga smiling almost sadly at her.

" I am so very sorry Bryn for what you have been through."

Bryn shook her head passionately, wiping her face with the sleeve of her gown before lowering her head to kiss the Queens hand.

In all the years she had not spoken a word, now was a moment she truly wished that she could. She wanted to cry out in joy. No, I am happy! She would have said. So very happy! Thank you! Thank you so much!

A hand at her chin caused her to lift her face. "You have a big heart." Frigga said, " It is a shame you will have no one waiting for your return. You are always welcome to stay, if it is what you wish... Remember that."

Bryn nodded.

Frigga gave a sudden sound of surprise. " Oh! Which reminds me. I have... somewhat of a gift for you."

Bryn frowned, the question evident on her face as she tilted her head in curiosity. A gift? For me? It had been so long since she had been given anything like a present, she had only been a girl the last time her father had given her a doll for her naming day. The memory was so vague to her, she had almost forgotten what it was like… until now.

" I have found something that may be of some help to you." Frigga explained, " A skill in which I think will be of use considering your..." She paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully before saying. "... disadvantage."

Leaving no room for Bryn to ponder on the comment, the Queen suddenly lifted her hands and moved them around in a swift but elegant motion of movement.

Bryn frowned at her, perplexed. The Queen smiled at her expression.

" It is called 'linguani'" She continued to explain. " Or as those from Midgard call it... 'sign'."

Still nonplussed, Bryn looked between the Queens gliding hands to her aged, but still beauty filled features.

" It is a form of communication." She made another quick gesture before saying. "We can use hand gestures, body and facial expressions to converse with others, without having the need to verbally speak."

There was a brief pause before she said. "I will teach you this, if you would like?"

Curiosity got the better of Bryn, and she watched the Queens moving hands with eagerness, trying to already memorise the motions to the words that were being spoken. Could she really do it? Could she really be taught how to speak again? Well, not perhaps verbally, but through body movement and these strange hand signals? It was more than Bryn could comprehend, but at the same time a hidden thorn in her mind stabbed at her, her excitement dying swiftly as she considered it further. But who would understand me? Who would I speak to? Other than the Queen, nobody else would know of such a language.

As if her doubt had spread across her face like paint upon a canvas, the Queen spoke.

" There are a few here that know of this type of language, including myself. We could talk like this, you and I. It would be our little secret, yes?"

Their little secret? The thought was encouraging. It would be nice, Bryn decided, if she could at least talk to one person. She would try very hard and be a most eager student.

Again, though, doubt grew in her mind.

"Do you think that just because you cannot speak that you have no right to express your thoughts and feelings?" Frigga asked suddenly. "You have the right, Bryndolyn, as much as anyone else, even if it is just to me."

There was a moment in which Bryn was silent, considering. It took only a few seconds before she was slowly nodding in agreement, accepting the challenge that lay ahead of her.

" Good." the Queen smiled suddenly, before leading her to a nearby stone bench, gesturing for her to sit. "We shall begin now. We will start from the beginning, with something simple. Now, watch me closely."

Once seated, Frigga moved her hands yet again, slowly emphasizing the sweeping motion of her palms and distinctive signalling of her slender fingers.

" This is 'good morning'."

-o-o-o-

Later, when all daily routines had finished and the palace had settled for the evening, Bryn found herself back in the palace gardens once again, as though drawn to it. After spending many hours listening and learning with great intensity to the Queens lessons, she was finding herself tired and need of rest. After a quick meal, one that consisted of her practising her newfound words under the table, Bryn had forced herself to wander back outside. She was hesitant to be confined into her room when she could be outside, under the free and beautiful sky. No amount of tiredness could pull her away from it.

Pausing mid step beneath the apple tree once again, she looked around to be sure she was alone, before tilting her head up at the darkened space above her. She lifted her hands above her head, her arms stretching high as her fingers made various swoops and signals.

Sky.

Her movements looked awkward and unsure, and anyone passing by would have probably thought she was conjuring some kind of spell. She was so fully focused on her hands that she cared not if others watched her, or made fun of her. The Queen had given her a new ability, a power to speak without needing words. It was like being a child again, learning something new, something exciting. Bryn was hungry for it, for this knowledge and power.

Word by word and letter by letter Bryn had soaked up every piece of information that Frigga had instructed her in. Even when the Queen had hinted that they should stop, Bryn had disagreed with a passion.

"Perhaps we have learned enough for one day?" The Queen had said, placing her book aside. "Shall we continue this another day?"

No!

Bryn could not have signed the word quickly enough, before pushing the large tome back into her tutor's gentle hands.

At the Queens confused frown, Bryn continued.

No... Please... More...

And so they had carried on late into the evening until the King, Odin, had sent out some servants to seek out his wife for their evening meal in the hall. Bryn had followed and joined them, but had found herself far too restless to retire to her rooms afterwards.

Her feet were bare as she let the cool grass slip between her toes. The cool open air brushed against her face, soothing her mind. In the distance she could hear birds singing to one another, calling for their mates before roosting up for the night. The tinkling of water nearby was soft and lulling in the quietening night. The stars glittered and shined from high above.

She lifted her hands once again and began to practice.

Bird.

Her fingers danced, signalling to the night sky and the low gathering branches of the trees and its fruit.

Apples.

It did not look right, so she tried the word again, pleased with herself when it looked better the second time. The night around her was almost like a background against her pale skin, it stood out in stark relief.

Stars.

Bryn felt like a weight had lifted from her shoulders. Like a darkened cloud had suddenly rolled overhead and was now far away into the distance. She was filled with content and a calmness she had not felt in so many years.

Her hands moved, knowing this word very well, it was her favourite so far.

Happy.

Bryn smiled. Yes, she was very happy. So happy in fact that she wanted to learn as many words as quickly as possible so that she could tell the world about how complete she felt. Of how free she felt. Of how much she missed home. Of how grateful she was for their kindness. Of how...

Something flashed in the corner of her vision and she lowered hands and turned her head, gazing up at a stone balcony situated above her. It was dim, but she could just make out the solid blackness of a person standing within.

Curious, Bryn stepped closer, eyes narrowing to look closely at the figure that was slowly moving closer to the edge of the balcony. She paused just under the edge of the protection of the trees that were keeping her covered from sight. The person moved further into her range of sight and she stiffened slightly when she recognised who it was.

The short black hair. The dark attire and pale skin.

Prince Loki slid from the shadows, his attention focussed so intently on something in his gloved hand that he did not notice Bryn watching him from beneath the foliage.

Some small part told her to walk away quietly, to return to her room and retire for the night, but for some reason she found herself unable to move. Her eyes, widened, and looked closer at what it was that had such ardent focus from him.

No, not a something, it was not an object, but a strange glow of light. Flickering streams of shining tendrils wrapped and slithered around his slowly dancing fingers, as though it were a snake dancing under some unheard compelling melody. He weaved it this way and that, its brightness growing in intensity, growing in size, forming shifting shapes.

Magic.

Bryn knew the prince was capable of such abilities, but never had she seen in such a blatant and solid form before. As though it were a living entity, bound and controlled by his will.

Such magic was dangerous and frowned upon in most realms. In Vanaheim, it was only considered dark and used only for ill intentions. She had caught a glimpse of it briefly upon her arrival in Asgard, when the dark prince had disarmed Thren so effortlessly. Such power and ability alone had kept her at a safe distance away from the prince, knowing what he was capable of, of the threat he could pose.

But now, as Bryn watched the young Prince wield it between his nimble fingertips, she found herself drawn. Like some silent voyeur watching a precious and intimate moment, she felt her heartbeat quicken, her skin tingling as she saw the strange stillness that cast over his dark form, his pale features.

Long moments passed, and Bryn felt as though she could have stood there forever just admiring the moment, admiring him.

The glowing ripples swayed, twisting suddenly, curling in on itself before slowly taking the shape of a large winged bird. A crow.

Impossible.

Bryn gasped, and took a step back. A stray branch stabbed into her foot as it snapped loudly under her weight.

Alarmed, she looked down at the source of the sound and then lifted her head back up only to find a pair of almost glowing emerald eyes looking down at her. Bryn froze, trapped underneath that probing gaze. Like a thief caught stealing the King's precious gems, she could do nothing but stand there, still.

The slightest furrowing of his brows was the only indication of his displeasure across his veiled alabaster features.

Heart racing, she moved away further under the protection of the trees until her back hit the roughened bark. She turned towards the steps leading back into the palace, contemplating making a dash for sanctuary.

A loud screech of a bird met her ears and she turned just in time to see a flash of black skim beside her head, the soft brush of feathered wings against her face, the light breeze ruffling her short hair. Startled, she shot back further against the tree just as the crow flew up and settled itself amongst the thick branches, a few leaves falling down around her.

Bryn heard a quiet noise, a low chuckle coming from above her.

Her eyes rose and clashed with the Princes. Loki was all but smirking down at her, leaning a narrow hip against the balustrade. He was taking great pleasure, it seemed, at seeing her try to hide from him.

With hands gripping the trunk of the tree for dear life, she waited, wondering if he would chastise her for spying on him.

As if on cue, Loki lifted his hand and Bryn leapt away when she felt something long and heavy slither its way across her shoulder. A soft hiss sounded in her ear. A moving mass of sleek rippling scales rolled its way across her skin.

She gave a silent whimper of terror, her face contorting in panic as she batted at herself with wild hands, trying to rid the serpent from her being. Thinking of nothing else, she turned and darted for the palace steps, her nightdress billowing as she fled as though the devil himself was chasing her.

Even as she bounded her way up the stone steps and sped up and into her room. Even as she, with heavy breaths, slammed the door closed and pressed her back to it. She could still feel the serpent's weight ghosting against her, feel it rubbing against her arms, her neck, her cheek. The soft warble of the crow. The mocking laughter of the prince echoing hauntingly across her mind.