"Bryndolyn?"
Bryn blinked, torn from her daze. Pulled away from the world beyond the arching window, she turned to the regal figure sat next to her. Frigga's wise grey eyes stared into her, filled with concern and subtle curiosity.
"You seem out of sorts today, my dear." The Queen closed the scroll she had been reading and placed it to one side. "Are you tired?"
Bryn shook her head in denial. It was not weariness that made her mind drift so freely this morning. Her thoughts wandered restlessly. The cause uncertain to her. Her peace and tranquillity had become disrupted, as of late. Time had passed since her first arrival to Asgard. The Queen and many others in the palace had become great companions and friends to her. The Golden Halls were finally beginning to feel like a home, a place to belong. Her life filled once again with purpose. Happiness.
Yet for some reason, Bryn's heart still clung to the past, to her previous life and the home she had once cherished.
No. Bryn signed the words, gesturing the words carefully. Forgive me, my queen. I was lost in thought.
Frigga's hand settled over Bryn's, stilling her movements. A gentle smile graced her older, yet still undeniably beautiful face.
"You still think about your old life." It wasn't a question, merely a statement of fact.
Bryn nodded.
"I understand," Frigga said softly, "I know that look of yours, I have seen it many times. Like a great weight is heavy upon your shoulders."
Bryn paused, uncertain. Frigga knew so much about her woes and worries. It was a sensitive topic to speak of. Yet at the time Bryn did not wish to come across as ungrateful for all that has been given to her. In no way shape or form was she regretting her choice. Hindsight and difficult memories had a way of making themselves known in the most inconvenient of times.
The silence stretched between them like a tightly sewn thread.
"You need not speak of it, if you do not wish to," Frigga spoke, leaning back into her chair with a sigh. "Is there nothing I can do to ease your fears, Bryn?"
Bryn shrugged, lowering her head. She knew not of how to get rid of this shadowy cloud that seemed to hover about her head as of late.
The queen clucked her tongue, growing deep in thought. "Perhaps you could assist me with some errands? There are some things that I wish to do and I would appreciate the help. Maybe it will help to take your mind off things?"
Before Bryn could ask any questions, Frigga stood and glided towards a nearby desk, gathering a collection of scrolls under one arm. "These need to be returned to Master Grendor in the library. He is expecting them. Would you be able to take them for me?"
Bryn eyed the bundle in worry, looking to the Queen for reassurance. Did Frigga wish for her to go alone? Bryn relied heavily on the Queen for support and guidance when it came to communicating with others.
As though sensing her uncertainty, Frigga spoke. "You needn't feel anxious, he is a good man. Simply hand them over to him, no words are needed. He will know that I have sent you."
Doubt nagged at her, but Bryn felt an obligation to be of use for once. She knew she could not deny the queen; she owed her much for her kindness and patience. Nodding slowly, Bryn stood and moved to carefully take the scrolls.
"Good. Thank you." Frigga said, smiling gently. "I must leave you for a time to speak to my husband, but I will return later for our afternoon classes. Agreed?"
Bryn nodded again in assent. They shared a brief, understanding glance before the queen turned away and began to leave the hall. Her long velvet gown swept across the marble floor, the fabric whispering against the stone as she went.
Suddenly alone, Bryn shuffled her feet. The task itself was simple enough and would only take a few moments to accomplish. However, some unknown dread rolled through her, making her hesitate. Taking a deep breath, she strode from the chamber and began to make her way towards the library. She knew the way without needing assistance, having crossed it many times in the past, but she had never been inside. She paused at the massive doorway, peering in carefully. It was quiet within, with only the odd sound of shuffling papers or footsteps echoing to her ears. From what she could see there were a few people inside, browsing the shelves quietly.
For a moment, Bryn hovered, loitering with an anxious lump in her belly. When she finally stepped inside the threshold, the scent of musty old books rose up to meet her. Rows upon rows of shelves lined the walls from floor to the ceiling. On one side of the cavernous hall was a blazing fireplace, its heating reaching her even from a distance. Large stone carvings of various mythical creatures stood either side of it, as though guarding the flames within. Candelabras line the walls, casting a gentle light around the dimness.
An elderly man in silvery robes appeared, stepping from behind a wide desk. His beard, pure white in colour, trailed to his waist. A book lay within his withered hand, a quill in the other as he scribbled furiously across the pages.
Bryn recognised him instantly as Master Grendor, the head Librarian. She had seen him many times, though briefly, and had yet to make direct acquaintance with him. Others had described him as an odd man, somewhat eccentric and unpredictable. A man of great skill and knowledge, one not to be trifled with.
Cautiously, she approached him, pausing quietly at his side, waiting for him to acknowledge and notice her presence.
"So, you must be Bryndolyn," his rasping voice greeted her after but a few moments of waiting. As if he had sensed her there, rather than seeing her. Had he been expecting her?
How curious...
The elderly man turned, his strangely pale eyes squinting at Bryn over a pair of gold-framed spectacles, peering closely.
"Correct?"
Bryn swallowed back the lump in her throat and nodded. She stepped forward and awkwardly held out the pile of scrolls for him. Master Grendor put his book and quill to one side. His ink-stained fingers took the parchments from her trembling hands, sifting through them carefully.
"Good, good. Thank goodness she was able to finish them, now I can complete the collection and catalogue them with the others." He patted a hand against them in affection, as though reunited with a long lost friend. With a gesture of his hand, he began to walk away, motioning for Bryn to follow him. "Come along, I have a need for someone such as you. You will do nicely."
What? Bryn's mind span. What did he mean by that? The plan had been to deliver the items and then leave again. But the look on the master librarian's face said otherwise. He clearly had no plans to allow her to flee so easily.
Bryn glanced towards the door, eyeing her escape route. Before she could take a single step, a heavy pile of books was bundled into her arms. With wide eyes, she stared up at Master Grendor. His own eyes sparkled at her, as though laughing at her startled expression. He clearly knew something she did not. "Do you mind holding these for me?"
With little else to do and unable to refuse him, she stood there like a statue, clasping the items to her tightly.
Mumbling to himself, Master Grendor began to dig through a huge pile upon his desk. "Now, let's see. Ancient Tomes of the Abolisk, General Herbs of the Variant, Restoring Energies volume one, two and three..."
One by one, he began to reel off titles, ticking and scribbling with his quill as he went. It became obvious that Bryn wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Occasionally the old man would glance at her, as though expecting her to run away whilst his back was turned. His crooked smile would show his pleasure when he saw that she hadn't.
"Hold this one too, please."
Bryn barely registered the words before another tome was thrust at her. She shifted her position, struggling with the heavy weight, but then her gaze caught sight of something. A book lay open at the edge of the table beside her. Although she was not a fluent reader, due to her time in captivity, she could faintly make out certain symbols. Earth. Mortal. Part of her yearned to be able to read them, curious to know what secrets and stories they told of the human realm.
With a burdened heart, she refocussed upon her task. Time began to pass swiftly and it was only when Master Grendor wearily stepped towards her that she knew they were finally finished.
"You have been a great aid to me, young lady," Master Grendor sighed, removing his glasses to run a hand across his face. "I thank you very much for your help, though reluctantly willing it was." He winked at her playfully and Bryn felt her cheeks burn. Her secret found out.
Despite the sudden change in plans, Bryn could not deny she had enjoyed being in the Library. It was a peaceful place, quiet and spacious. Filled with wonder and a magic that could only be felt, but not seen. The maze of shelves she had once feared had now become mapped in her mind. She knew where things belonged and where to find them.
"You can come again tomorrow, if you wish," Master Grendor said. "I could use an extra pair of hands around here. This old body just isn't like it used to be."
Bryn nodded, smiling in excitement for tomorrow already.
"Good, good," Master Grendor smiled at her.
He looked as though he intended to say something further, but instead, his grey eyes drifted past Bryn's shoulder, to something behind her. Or rather someone. She stiffened, sensing a presence at her back. She had not even heard anyone approaching.
Master Grendor bowed lowly, addressing the newcomer.
"Ah! Your Highness, you have returned. How did you find the book I suggested? Was it of any use to you?"
Your Highness? Bryn spun on her heels with a smile, her eyes seeking out the Queen's form, eager to think she had come to collect her for their lessons. However, her face fell when saw it was not the Queen, but someone she had not expected to see.
The dark prince, Loki, stood watching them with an eerie silence. His attire was an elegant array of blacks and greens. His raven hair a stark contrast against the paleness of his smooth, undeniably handsome complexion. The glacial shade of his eyes almost glowed, observing them with an intensity that made Bryn's heart stammer in its beat.
She froze, her stomach rolling with unease. She gave a brief and awkward bow to him, remembering her manners.
"Indeed." Loki's voice, soft and smooth like silk, shimmered its way down Bryn's spine like a caress. Strangely unsettling. So different from that of his brother's, Thor's, which was booming and strong.
Master Grendor clapped his hands and Bryn jumped, startled out of her skin by the sound. Her nerves and awareness heightened by the tall figure standing before her.
"Excellent, your highness. I am pleased that you are pleased, sire. I happened to find the third volume of that collection, only but the other evening. I have put it aside for you."
"Thank you," the prince replied softly, his gaze slowly sliding from the Librarian back to Bryn. Delving and searching.
A hand appeared at her shoulder and she gasped, taken aback to see the old man peering at her, as if noticing her unease.
"Bryndolyn, my dear, would you be so kind as to place these ones back onto the shelf for me?"
Bryn practically snatched the books from his hands with an enthusiastic nod. Eager for a chance to escape. The skirts of her gown rustle as she darted away behind one of the rows of shelves, out of sight and thankful for the protection it offered. She could hear their voices conversing and Bryn sighed in relief.
Fourth row... second shelf down... she chanted the mantra silently to herself. Trying to find the locations that she needed. The task was quickly achieved much to her annoyance, and instead of returning, she loitered a little. Picking up a random she traced the lettering upon its spine, before opening it and peering inside at the words. She could vaguely make out the story about a man who journeys to defeat a four-winged dragon… or perhaps it was a phoenix? Some of the symbols were unclear. The pictures on the next page showed the moving illustration of the battle. Of a broad man covered in golden armour, wielding a spear. The sharp tip penetrated the creatures hide, its head thrust back in furious agony.
So deep in the tale, she did not notice what was happening until she heard it. There was a sliding sound from above her. Her head shot up, her arms instinctively rising to catch the falling items as they came crashing down towards her. Stiffening, she closed her eyes, waiting for the impact. A moment passed, and then another. When nothing happened, she looked up carefully only to find something spectacular happening. The numerous books which had fallen were now hovering mere inches above her head, slowly rotating, as though untouched by gravity.
Bryn's mouth parted in awe, her eyes widening. With a trembling hand, she gently nudged at one tome, watching it spin gently from the force.
What was happening?
"I do believe Master Grendor told you to put the books away, not throw them all over the floor."
Bryn blinked, the magical moment ruined by that velvety voice that spoke from behind her. She turned to noticed the prince, Loki, leaning casually against a stone column. His brilliant, icy eyes glinting at her with some unknown knowledge. His slender hand outstretched, glowing with a ghostly green light.
She looked from it to the objects still dancing above her, realisation dawning. He had stopped them from falling upon her. But why? With an elegant motion, he sent the items floating up, back into their designated positions upon the shelf.
Bryn curtsied, shuffling her feet nervously. His gaze burned as it roamed across her. When she met his eyes directly, a sense of feeling trapped washed over her, like a rabbit caught in a snare. Unable to look away from him. He smiled at her, slowly, almost slyly.
Her mind flashed back to the first time she had met him. That fateful day, when she had been hiding underneath the table in his chambers. Much time had passed since then, and yet he did not seem any less mysterious or intimidating. There was something decidedly unpleasant and unsettling about him.
The prince's attention fell down to Bryn's hands and she realised they were fidgeting restlessly against the folds of her skirts.
Loki chuckled low in his throat. "Be at ease, I won't bite you."
Part of Bryn reasoned that she should believe him, but the strange lull of his voice caused her skin to tingle with wariness.
With a graceful stretch of his limbs, he stepped away from the column, advancing towards her. He paused a small, yet respectful distance away.
"I understand you have been spending much time with my mother," he said softly, almost kindly. "She seems to have become rather attached to you."
Bryn nodded, uncertain of how to answer him. She offered him a small, but nervous smile. A secret part of her pleased to know that her bond with the queen had become special. One Bryn treasured above all else.
"Don't get too comfortable." His words made her freeze, cold ice sliding down her spine. "She merely pities you, just as the others do."
Bryn gaped at him, trying to conceal the hurt that stabbed through her chest. Her smile faded, whilst his grew to one of cunning satisfaction. Clearly basking her wounded expression. What game was he trying to play? One moment he appeared as docile and benign as a newborn lamb, only to then morph into cunning slyness of a fox.
"We are royalty after all, are we not?" he drawled, with a matter-of-factly shrug of his slender shoulders. The gold embroidery of his silken tunic gleamed at the movement, against the forest green of his tunic. "We should not attach ourselves to those of a lower class. It would be most unseemly."
Bryn's hand fisted tightly by her side, her back rigid with anger. How dare he look down his nose at her? How dare he speak so unkindly to her? This was not the way of a prince at all.
She gave a quick dismissive bow before turning on her heels to walk away from him. Everything about him infuriated her. His arrogance. His coldness. His wicked nature. Even his ridiculously handsome face. She decided in that moment that she disliked everything about him and did not wish to be in his presence a single moment longer.
Bryn rounded a corner, only to jump to an abrupt stop when Loki appeared suddenly right before her. Taken aback, she glanced behind her and then forward towards him again. How had he moved so quickly and quietly? One moment he had been behind her, out of sight. The next he stood directly in her path, blocking her way. But how?
Loki gave her a dazzling grin, his neat white teeth flashing in delight at her surprise. He crossed his lengthy arms, looking down at her with amusement in his emerald eyes.
"What? Have I hurt your feelings? Have I wounded your womanly pride?"
Bryn glared at him, making to step around him, intending to ignore him. He stepped with her, continuing to barricade her way. His incredibly tall frame towered over her and she could smell the smooth, and strangely pleasant, scent of him. Of leather and something decidedly male.
He gave a low laugh. "Finally, a reaction."
He took another step closer, completely crowding into Bryn's space. She peered around, anxiously seeking someone for aid, yet at the same time extremely aware of how his proximity might appear to onlookers. Gossip would surely start. Uproar would swiftly follow.
"Your foolish cowering was beginning to become infuriating," Loki muttered.
He lifted a hand, and Bryn stiffened. His arm stretched past her completely, reaching over her shoulder to pull a book from the shelf behind her. His eyes danced, growing more amused with each passing second.
"Although, I do not blame you for your cautious nature," he said absently, thumbing his way through the tome slowly. "I am the god of mischief, after all. I'm sure you've heard the tales uttered amongst the palace servants." He lifted a finely arched black brow at her. "Have you heard the one about how I turned my oafish brother into a frog? That one's my favourite."
Bryn had heard of the stories. Whether any of them held any truth was uncertain. Some weaved stories of Loki's unrelenting trickery. Of his jealousy and impeccable skills in dark magic and lore. Most of them were spoken in dread and unease.
Bryn stared at the floor, trying to make it obvious that she had no intention of continuing the exchange with him. All she wanted to do was return to her chambers, and return to the peace and solace she knew would be waiting for her.
"What's the matter?" he asked smoothly. A long-fingered hand rose, settling inches below Bryn's chin, bidding her silently to look at him. "Are you afraid?"
She lifted her face to him, neither cowering, nor defiant. However, she made it clear to him, with the narrowing of her eyes, that she did not trust him.
"Oh, I see how it is..." he said slowly, nodding his head in confirmation as if to some inner theory he had concocted. His inky hair swaying around his ears with the motion. "How could I have missed it, when the absolute truth lies directly before me?" He leaned in, his chin grazing against the side of her hair as he whispered to her. "You're madly in love with me, aren't you? Admit it."
Heart hammering, Bryn moved away from him, shaking her head vehemently in denial. Why it was the most preposterous thing he'd ever spoken her. What a ludicrous notion indeed!
"By all means, if you disagree all you have to do is say the words."
Bryn felt his words like a slap to the slap. Say the words? He knew very well that she could not speak. Why did he continue to say such awful things? Why did he torment her so? They were cruel and entirely unnecessary.
"What was that?" Loki asked, mockingly. He leaned in, cupping his hand against the side of his head as one might when trying to hear something better. "Speak up, I can't hear you."
Bryn's eyes burned, yet she refused to allow the tears to form or fall down her face. What a horrid man he was. Their meetings in the past had always been so brief and short. He knew nothing about her, yet he deemed it suitable to mock and jeer at her as he did. Her hand itched, craving to strike him across his handsome, arrogant cheek.
"No? What a pity," he murmured, as though disappointed. "Very well, I will excuse you this once."
He turned away, clearly having grown bored with his own game. He began to walk away and part of Bryn dearly longed to take a sharp poisonous dagger and plunge it into the line of his back. The unpleasant, selfish, self-centred…
Spoilt… she lifted her hands, signing the words to his back with all the hate and anguish that she could muster.
Conceited…
Rude…
Her fingers flew, gesturing the insults with a precision and clarity that would have made even the Queen herself proud.
I hope you fall into a pit filled with snakes and they eat you, you ignorant, stuck-up, crow-faced excuse of a boar's backside!
"A boar's backside?"
Bryn spun, eyes wide in alarm to see Loki stood nought but a few paces away. She looked towards where she had just been watching him stride away, only to find empty space. But how was that possible? How could he be in two places at once? None of it made any sense to her. Loki smirked at her, observing her with a hawk-like intensity. There was no knowing where he truly was. He seemed to be everywhere and yet nowhere.
Great gods, did that mean he'd seen her insulting him? To disrespect one of the royal princes was unthinkable and would call for her to be punished most severely. Bryn knew it, and Loki knew it too, for his smile turned almost unpleasant.
"I've been called many things before, but that's a new one."
Bryn began to panic. What was she going to do? How could she remedy the situation? She had offended him repeatedly; even despite the fact he had deserved it for his cruel behaviour. But what had surprised her even more was the fact that he had understood her signing. He knew Linguani.
As if reading her very thoughts, he spoke. "I know more than you realise. Do not take me for a fool."
He took a slow, leisurely step towards her, tilting his elegant head at her as though curious about something. "So, you think I'm spoilt, do you?… and a pit full of snakes?" He tsked gently, like one might to a disobedient child. He placed a hand upon his chest as though pained. "That was rather unkind of you, my lady, my heart is wounded."
Bryn blinked. Heart? Did he even have one? If he did, it was surely made of ice, Bryn decided.
"The question that remains is how shall I punish you?" He said with a slow lift of his chin. His shoulders straightened beneath his dark clothing, as though putting on the persona of the noble, merciful prince, yet again. "You must be taught a lesson for your audacious disrespect. However, I am willing to be lenient, for a price."
A shiver rolled through her, along with uneasiness and fear. So many scenarios and images flashed through her mind of how he would take retribution for her rudeness towards him. He was a prince after all. He held power within his grasp; the power to end her very life, should he decide to do so.
For a long moment, they stared at each other, eyes joined together in a silent battle of wills. She refused to cow down to him, yet nor was she foolish enough to test him further. Loki, however, seemed rather pleased with himself. He took great satisfaction in watching her squirm before him. His pleasure evident through the eerie gleam in his ever-observant gaze. His eyes, glacial green in shade, took in everything, missing nothing.
"Bryndolyn? Are you here?" Someone called from the main foyer of the library and Bryn sighed in desperate relief.
The Queen. She was here. It was time for their lessons. Bryn caught a glimpse of Frigga's long flowing gown walking past the end of their narrow row.
"It would seem you have been saved, for now..." Loki's voice whispered to her upon a wind. "Until next time, Lady Bryndolyn."
At hearing him speak her name, she turned to find him gone. Not a single sign or hint of him lingered anywhere. It was as though he'd literally vanished into thin air. Bryn felt herself relax, her entire body calming to know he had finally left her in peace. Her mind grew scattered, confused beyond imagining at the strange interaction with the dark-haired prince. The whole experience had been like being set on fire, only to be doused out with icy cold water. Her whole body felt on edge. Alive.
One thing was for certain, Bryn decided. From now on she would do all that she could to avoid such meetings in the future with Loki. He was not safe to be around, nor pleasant. A threat to her very sanity and reasoning.
With that in mind, she quickly straightened at her dress and made her way towards the foyer to seek out the queen.
