Chapter Four: Let Me Look At You

Erling glowered furiously at the Queen, her face calm, but he could see it in her eyes. Her fury.

Her vulnerability.

"All-Mother," He sneered, his deep, gravelly voice practically dripping with venom, "to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?" Her face remained unmoved, but the slight wince in her shoulders gave her away. She was struggling to control her emotions. He grinned toothily, his canines and molars sharp and dirty. He licked his lips sloppily, the resounding smack of his lips causing Frigga to wrinkle her nose in disgust, before returning to her previous demeanour.

"I wish to know of your intentions with Eir-Iðunn, Erling of Fyrisvellir. And it would bode you well to speak honestly with me, lest I feel it would be warranted to speak with my husband of this matter." He snorted loudly.

"Matter? What matter, Frigga? There is no matter here than what you have falsified in your own mind."

"Need I remind you that I possess the ability of foresight?"

"Yes. Most women," he snarled, "would seem to think they are in ownership of such a quality. It is a rather fanciful thing," he stepped towards her menacingly, but she stood her ground, although her forehead did crease slightly, "that you would honestly believe I have any ill-intent towards the girl," he circled the All-Mother like a vulture, "after all she is my charge, under my care. So pray, enlighten me, my Queen," he stopped, his mouth by her ear, his body so dangerously close to hers that she could smell the scent of bile on his breath and feel the malice radiating out of every pore in his fat body, "what harm could I possibly seek to bring to her? Perhaps you ought to concern yourself with more pressing matters concerning Lady Borghildr's only daughter, such as your son's extremely ill-advised interest in a lowly servant girl." Frigga finally lost her stance and turned sharply in his direction, her nose a hair's breadth from his own, her teeth bared in a snarl reminiscing that of a wolf's, her eyes glinting threateningly.

"It would do you well to leave my son, your Prince, out of this matter."

"He has already concerned himself with it, Frigga."

"You are fortunate that I have not approached Odin himself." Erling barked with laughter.

"And you would approach him with what? This folly of a Prince and a maid? Come now, that would not stand in the realm of Asgard, it is a most absurd notion. As I am sure, Princess," he growled her previous title, that no one had uttered to her in centuries. She glared at him. "You very well know. After all, a servant has no place in the throne room of Asgard. But by all means," he stepped back and bowed low, a gesture that Frigga was certain was a mockery, "Do send my regards to Odin All-Father." He chuckled, and then whirled on his heel, striding away, a yellow-toothed grin plastered over his round face. Frigga waited until he had left her presence, and then smiled, her hand clutched around the parchment she had retrieved from his pocket, crumpled and worn, but thankfully, no ink had smudged.

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Iðunn whimpered as her Mother stood over her, hands clutching the hooded cloak that matched her own and Erling's, who was watching, arms folded, smirking. She hated him, hated his robust, unflattering frame, hated his disgusting grin that carried all the toxins of Hel, hated his thinning curly hair, hated his cruel grey eyes, hated the way he leered at her when he thought she wasn't looking. She wasn't foolish to his intentions. She just could not comprehend how her Mother felt this was right.

"Stand up, girl!" Borghildr barked, and Iðunn flinched.

"Y-you cannot do this," she stammered for, she was sure, the thousandth time since they had announced their plans. "Please, Mother, I beg of you!"

"Get up. Now." Came the hissed response.

They were going to take her away. Flee Asgard in the dead of night, and there was no doubt in her mind that it would be her death. They obviously had not thought out properly what they were to do should she decline to co-operate.

"No." She curled up even more. "No. I refuse... you cannot force me to go." Borghildr snarled and lunged for her daughter and she jumped away, shrieking. "If you dare to touch me, I will scream!" That was when Erling was before her, he had moved at such speed she had barely seen him move.

"Then scream away, you disgusting little baulufotr, not even your Prince can hear your harlot's cry. He will not save you from this."

"I beg to differ." Erling spun quickly to face Loki, but with one fell swoop, Loki had cuffed Erling's temple with a throwing dagger, Borghildr screaming as a stream of blood poured out onto her floor.

"You have killed him! You have killed him, you treacherous snake! I will inform Odin, you murderer." Loki just smirked, flicking another dagger up in the air and catching it over and over.

"Now, now, aren't we a little old for tattle-tales? Besides, he is not dead, just in shock. I am sure he will be perfectly fine to face Odin at your trial in an hour or so." Borghildr's face paled.

"My trial?" That was when Frigga emerged, smiling gently at a dumbfounded and terrified Iðunn, then turning her attention back to the rasping matriarch.

"Yes. It would appear that Erling was somewhat careless in concealing your plans." She held the parchment up, balancing it delicately between her slender fingers. If Borghildr became any paler, she would have seemed to have been drained of all blood.

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"Erling of Fyrisvellir." Odin's voiced boomed, and Erling trembled before him, his blood dripping off his face and leaving spatters of red on the marbled floor. "Borghildr of Asgard." She was seething, her anger steaming into the air like smog. "Your actions amount to a careless disregard for the life of your people, that you would treat your own child with such hatred is a disgrace to everything that Asgard stands for. You have betrayed your daughter, your duties and the trust of your King. You have befouled the name of Asgard and your evil holds no place within it. You are hereby banished to the outskirts of Hel, doomed for all eternity. You will plead at the gates to enter, you will beg for the sweet release of Death, but Lady Hela will not oblige you. You will wander a desolate wasteland, alone and lost with no one but one another and your own selfish poisons to live on... if you do not murder one another in the same cold-bloodedness with which you treated the one who was entrusted to you." His one eye flickered to Iðunn and he gave a small, almost unnoticeable smile. He slammed his staff to the ground, the guards swarming then to drag away the accused, Erling hung there limply, staring at the ground, forlorn and ashamed and afraid. Borghildr, however, kicked and screamed and cursed, thrashing about furiously. "Silence her!" Odin called, and a guard slammed the butt of his sword into her head, knocking her out cold.

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"Let me look at you." Loki murmured, tilting her head in his hands and brushing the hair from her face. He had been helping her transfer her belongings to her new chambers, courtesy of the All-Mother, who had taken pity on the girl, with the only requirement that her payment would be lessons in etiquette and needlework from the Queen, to which Iðunn readily agreed. Frigga had taken the liberty of allowing the yound maiden's chambers to be down the hall from Prince Loki's, and they were more comfortable than anything she had ever experienced in her short life. As of yet, no one knew for certain of her romance of Loki, many suspected, but no one was sure. Frigga, though aware of their feelings for one another, did not yet know that they had begun their 'trysts', despite a lack of physicality between them other than mere kisses.

He scowled at the bruises at her hairline, almost as though they had been placed to be hidden. Eir-Iðunn winced as his fingers skimmed over a particularly tender spot and he leaned down to kiss it softly. Her breath quivered in a mixture of pain and excitement, curling herself up to him and gazing up at him adoringly. He drank in her features again like he was seeing her for the first time, from her porcelain skin that betrayed the pink blush that looked like it had been painted upon her, her soft coral lips that tempted him so, the delicate apricot freckles that marred her skin and travelling down her neck and across her collarbone, disappearing under her dress that led him to the most sinful thoughts of where they might lead, and again at her beautiful sapphire eyes that had become more precious to him than any gem in the entirety of the nine realms.

He leaned into her again to caress her lips gently with his own, her quiet gasp spurring him, one hand slinking on to her lower back and the other grasping her chin in a manner so gentile that she was sure he thought he might break her. He leaned her back and deepened the kiss, gently probing with his tongue for her to let him in. She obliged, wrapping her arms gingerly around his neck. She whimpered and winched when he accidentally touched a sore patch on her back and he rested his forehead to hers and sighed. "We will wait for you to heal, Iðunn. I cannot bear to hear your cries of pain."

"Yes, my lord." She responded. "I look forward to it."

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A/N

Hi! I hope you're enjoying this so far! I've tried to be a little more inventive with my dialog in this chapter, I even looked into some insults in Old Norse, so to clarify, 'baulufotr' means 'cow foot.'

Rate, Review, give me some points so I can improve!

Much love,

TB&TB xox