The walk from the bridge of the Bifröst and into the castle of Asgard seemed to go on for years. My jaw ached from hanging open, but it was the only reaction I could conjure up after what was being displayed before my eyes. Asgard was as opposite to Vanahemir as any realm could get, except maybe for Jötunheimr. As all the buildings and palaces of Vanahemir were silver, all in Asgard was gold. The sky in Vanahemir, though the weather would be warm, would always remain a silvery-grey color, which would always make rain unpredictable. In Asgard, I could actually see and feel the brilliant sun for the first time in my life. I already knew not to look directly at it, but at the same time, I couldn't turn away from it, as I was entranced to its splendor and beauty. The sun turned the entire sky a dark orange color that reflected through the clouds, aiding the brightness to reflect off of the shiny gold buildings that surrounded us.
Everything in Asgard was so massive, the structure of the houses and great, intricate buildings all seemed to be fit for the giants of Jötunheimr, not the gods and citizens of Asgard. Indeed, the Realm Eternal was unlike anything I had ever seen in my life, and I felt a twinge of gratitude towards the fates for allowing me to see it. The realm was surrounded by an ocean, which ran as a waterfall down into space where the Bifröst sat under Heimdall's constant watch. The rainbow bridge under my feet stretched for miles through out the entrance of the city and would light up whenever you placed your feet on to it. There were structures that were actually floating in the air, while others started on the ground and shot up at least a hundred feet into the sky. I could see humble homes settled in between the gargantuan rocks that shot up out of the ocean, and even more settled in the far away streets. I squinted and tried to look beyond the blinding gold to search for farms, and country sides, but the size of the magnificent palace blocked my view.
In the very heart of Asgard sat its palace, a solid gold structure that took up the entirety of the horizon in front of me. One could easily have fit three Vanahemir palaces into it and it would still remain larger. My eyes bulged, there was simply too much to take in. I slowly began to realize the slight throbbing pain in my head as a result of all of the sudden visual stimulation, and the issue that my eyes were still not yet adjusted to the sun, yet I could not look away. The Palace reminded me of pictures of ice sickles, yet if one turned them right side up and painted them all a regal gold. Reflections from the sky and the structures surrounding the Palace reflected off of its shiny surface, causing it to gleam more brightly than intended. I couldn't imagine how I was now going to call this breathtaking place home.
At long last, we reached a pair of tall, golden doors while two guards stood watch outside of them, each of them holding large staffs and darned in strong, Asgardian armor. The Allfather waved them aside, and as they departed, the two doors seemed to open up on their own. I followed behind Loki and Thor as we walked in the entrance of the Palace, which only enchanted me more. All was still gold, and I could see a misshapen reflection of myself when I looked down at the floor, yet the pure beauty of it was unimaginable. Intricate murals were painted on the ceiling, and towering beams stood through out the Halls, while carvings of ivy wove themselves around them. We walked past a large, circular room that was very open, as there were no walls in it, only the beams, and near the back off this room was a large, grand golden staircase. Perched at the top of this staircase, was the Allfather's Throne. I wanted to stop, and marvel at the unique and lovely design of the Throne and of this room, but the Allfather pressed onward.
Where are we going? I wondered to myself. Surely, we must have been walking for hours? Or perhaps time was just making a fool of me?
As if he had read my mind, which he probably did, the Allfather at last lead us into a room that seemed to be in the lower region of the Palace. There were many high backed chairs in the room, and sitting in one of them was none other than the goddess Frigga. My eyes immediately locked with hers, and I felt a sense of ease wash over me, knowing that someone else who was of my breed was present. Along with my comfort, also came a feeling of meekness, as I was standing before the most powerful woman in the nine realms. Just as I was about to bow to her on one knee, she spoke.
"There is no need for that, my dear," she said, in a soothing voice. She gracefully rose from her chair and walked over to me. She planted herself right in front of me, and looked me over with golden colored eyes. "Welcome to Asgard." She said, gracing me with a warm smile.
"She survived the Bifröst rather well, Mother," Thor said, a laugh escaping his chest, "No screaming or anything."
Frigga smiled at her eldest son, "She must be a strong woman, then." She turned her gaze back to me, "Tell me, Rowen how is your Father?"
"He is well, my Lady," I replied, averting any direct gaze with the Great Mother. "He grows weary, yet still obtains his strong spirit."
She smiled softly and shook her head, "Yes, your Father is quite the fighter. A trait which I have heard rumored to be passed on to you."
At this my cheeks flushed red, and I looked down at my feet. I was not so much a fighter, as I was more stubborn. She turned to the Allfather and seemed to have given him a telepathic look with her eyes, which he immediately understood.
"Come, Thor," he said, grabbing his eldest sons shoulder, "Your mother wishes to have an audience with your brother and his future wife."
I winced at the phrase, and quickly changed my facial expression. I was already too overwhelmed with the splendor of Asgard and the pain of leaving my home; I did not need to hear the term "future wife" directed at me. Thor winked at his younger brother, who slightly glared back at him in response, and left the room with his father. As soon as their echoing footsteps could no longer be heard, the Great Mother turned to us.
"Please, sit." She directed, pointing at two chairs that sat close together and were opposite from where she was standing. Loki and I did as we were told, and kept our eyes fixed on Frigga.
"This arrangement has been planned since infancy," –I winced again at the painful reminder of the last conversation I had with my Father- "It shall be similar to my own marriage with the Allfather, yet young Rowen has a lot to learn of our ways, Loki." I swallowed. "We shall not be as old fashioned in our ways with this marriage, as you are to teach her, Loki. If this were a traditional arranged marriage, you would not see each other until the bride walked down the isle to greet her husband."
I looked over at Loki, who was gazing at his mother, his face absolutely placid. "Loki, Rowen is a Vanir, like I. While we are of the same race, we are not of the same abilities. While I was blessed with the gifts of fertility and wisdom, Rowen has been blessed with gifts of telepathy: the mind." At this, Loki's expression changed from that of aloofness, to sudden interest. He quickly looked me up and down, his eyes searching for something only I didn't know of what.
"Tell me of your gifts, Rowen." The Great Mother said.
"I can read minds," I said, looking up at Frigga, "And I can see what others see, as if I am seeing what transpires around them through their eyes, not my own. I can feel what they feel too, and I absorb their feelings, similar to that of a wet sponge."
"Good, good," said Frigga, "What else?"
"I can make my own thoughts that of someone else, but that is rarely done. My Father saw to it that I did not study in that area, however I am still able to do it. But…" –I hesitated- "There is one last thing that I have only done a handful of times, and no one knows how it is done. Even I am not so sure."
Loki's expression changed from interest, to hunger, while the Great Mother simply gazed upon me, a small smile on her lips. I had the eerie feeling that she already knew of my most dreaded ability. Loki's eyes bore into mine, as he awaited my answer.
"And what is that, my dear?"
I swallowed, and blinked a few times, trying to concoct the right words to explain my cursed gift. "I… I can cause pain. I can cause pain to course through my enemy's body if I get angry enough." I said, in barely a whisper. I looked down into my lap and felt my checks burn. "It is something that I am greatly ashamed of."
I heard Loki release a small sigh next to me, and became aware of the slight tension that hung in the room after my confession. Too nervous was I too look up at Frigga, for I felt that I was a curse to Vanahemir with such a wretched gift. No one, not even the Norns knew of its origin, however, it seems the gift chose me, not I it.
At last, and to my surprise, Loki broke the silence, "So, have you been reading my mind this entire time?" I gazed up at him, alarmed that he would change the subject so suddenly when he looked so deeply interested in my dark secret. It was the first time I had heard him speak since I met him only hours ago, and he spoke to me softly, as if he was trying not to scare me away. Our eyes met, and I felt myself slipping into a trance, as my mind attempted to sort out this peculiar Asgardian.
"No," I replied, speaking softly, "I feel that the Allfather was using his power to block my connections, to keep his thoughts and that of you and your brother a mystery."
"She is right," Frigga said, smiling at me, "However, since the Allfather is no longer present…"
At her words, I instantly felt something click in my brain, as if she magically restored my powers, and opened my connections, which I was almost positive she did. The sudden change made my eyes close, as the sound of a low yet constant buzzing entered my mind. I could hear everything. I could hear the low drone of Thor's voice, and the soft tones of Loki's mixing together in my mind. I could hear Heimdall's baritone thoughts, as well as what sounded like hundreds of other voices, all of different tone in my mind; it was all a matter of choosing which to focus on. I needed to focus, which was always the hardest part of the entire ordeal, as there was so much to choose from, and with all the constant buzzing, keeping one's focus was a most difficult task. I shut my eyes tighter, and did my best to focus on the softness of Loki's voice. At first, all I could hear was the tone of his voice; I could not make out any words. I took in a deep breath, and focused all my power on his voice, until finally, I heard it.
Are you hearing me?
My eyes snapped open, and found his emerald eyes. I blinked.
Can you hear me?
I nodded my head, and a look of both shock and awe crossed his thin face.
She can hear me. I wonder if she'll be listening to me always when we wed. Will I ever get any sort of privacy? I wonder if…
He suddenly stopped thinking, and his eyes widened a little while his shoulders turned stiff. I smiled softly at him.
"I know, it takes a while getting used to it," I said. He obviously wasn't planning on me to have heard all of those thoughts. "To answer your question, though I may hear voices at all times, I have had this ability long enough to where I can block them out, if need be."
Loki relaxed slightly, but continued to look at me apprehensively, "How can I trust you?" he asked.
I smiled again, "You can't. At least not at the moment. Perhaps your trust in me will build as mine will for you, as time goes on."
"She's correct," Frigga spoke abruptly. I jumped slightly, as I had almost forgotten that she was still in the room with us. "Trust is built, it does not come easily,"-I took note that her eyes seemed to be focused on Loki, rather than me, or even to both of us, though I could not understand why- "Trust is essential in a stable marriage. Once the bond is broken, or the foundation of trust shaken, it is nearly impossible to regain or to rebuild." Her eyes remained on Loki, as did her words. Did this fact hold more relevance to him rather than to me? Her gaze lingered on Loki for a few moments, until her golden eyes turned to me.
"Now, my dear, I shall leave you both. Loki, show her around the palace, and into her new chambers. New, Asgardian clothing waits for you, Rowen, and we expect you for supper in the Hall." Loki silently nodded, and I bowed my head. The Great Mother gave us both an encouraging smile, and quickly bustled out of the room, and out of sight.
The silence that lingered in the room was thick, and maddening. I could still hear the humming in my mind of all the thoughts that surrounded me in this palace, and while the drone of Loki's soft voice buzzed the loudest, I did not read his mind. I figured it would be wise to train myself to refrain from reading his thoughts as early as I could, to spare ourselves from any bickering in the future. I kept my hands clasped in my lap, and my eyes downcast, waiting for him to make the first move. The temptation to read his thoughts was so aggressive and unbending, yet I did not give in. To occupy my thoughts, I began counting the seconds that ticked by, and no sooner had I reached twelve, that I heard movement to my left.
Loki rose slowly from his chair, and drew himself to his fullest height before standing before my chair. I slowly moved my eyes up, following the contour of the shape of his body in his armor, until I reached his face. He looked incredibly nervous, and almost afraid, as his green eyes searched into my round, silvery-grey ones, looking for something, that I felt neither of us knew. The sound of his thoughts roared in my mind, begging to be read, yet I did not listen. For a few fleeting moments, we froze, gazing at each other, searching each others faces for some sort of closure. A feeling, perhaps, that we were pleased with the other, a feeling that we were satisfied with the physical appearance of one another, as shallow as it seemed.
He offered a pale hand to me, which I gratefully took. Gently, he pulled me up to my feet, where we stood, our eyes still fixed on the other. He was at least a head taller than me, as the top of my head seemed to end where his strong jaw began. I blinked, and could feel his feelings; he indeed was nervous, as was I, yet I also could feel his frustration. Perhaps he was angry at the Allfather, just as I had been. I could have easily found out, yet I resisted the smoldering temptation once again.
He quietly cleared his voice, "I'll, erm, I'll show you the Palace, if you'll follow me." I nodded my head in return.
Loki released my hand, and led me out into the hall, and down a long corridor. The walls were gold, the floors were gold, the ceilings were gold everything shone that of a brilliant gold. There was too much for my eyes to take in, statues of gods who ruled before Odin stood in the halls, perhaps for protection, and towering, glittering beams stood at the end of every corner. He showed me the library first, located on the first floor of the palace. It was a room that was larger than the Throne room of my Fathers palace in Vanahemir, and books and scrolls were stacked from the floor to possibly the halls of Valhalla. I desperately wished to remain in the library, yet Loki pressed on. He took me to the second floor, where many chambers were held, mostly to the guards, and a mysterious troupe of warriors whom he referred to as "the Warriors Three and Lady Sif." I picked up the malice in his voice when he spoke of them, which made me feel that it was wise not to question him about these warriors.
The Palace of Asgard had nine floors, and, from what I could gather, hundreds, perhaps even thousands of chambers. Endless towers and turrets led up to different rooms of living or of study. There were many studies, and hidden passageways that Loki was more than happy to show me, claiming that he and his brother found most of them when they were young. There was a room for the children of the Palace to play in, and a room for nursing maids. Not on was there the Grand Library, but there seemed to be a library on every floor, each with scrolls and books on different subjects. An astronomy tower was on the very top floor, where Loki admitted to spending most of his time as an adolescent, and promised me that it was often vacant. There was a room full of praise for warriors who were now in Valhalla, as statues were built in their honor, where their actual weapons lie next to them. Loki told me that the Allfather had placed a powerful spell over the weapons, seeing fit that they would not be stolen. Loki then took me up to all of the towers in the Palace, which offered solitude and breathtaking views of Asgard. For the final spot of the tour, Loki led me back down through the Entrance Hall and through the Entrance Gates, to the courtyard. Magnificent, and glorious gardens awaited in the courtyard, where various fountains of the gods stood, surrounded by tall shrubbery and beautiful, enchanted flowers.
"The gardens," Loki explained, "Act to that of a maze, of sorts. There's been many a time where mischief has been made in the gardens, as they do well to conceal one when they do not wish to be found." At this, I noticed a spark shone brightly in his eyes that I had not seen upon our entire time together. This entranced me, yet it seemed that as soon as I noticed it, it vanished. "Beyond the gardens," he continued, "Are the greenhouses, the pastures, and the boathouse."
I looked up at him, helplessly, "I am going to get lost in this place." I said. "I hardly remember where the Throne room is!" I said, suddenly feeling panic creep its unwanted way into my veins.
Loki gave me a smirk, yet I could see kindness in his eyes, "Don't worry. It won't be too difficult to work, and once you crack it, you'll know it better than you know yourself." I smiled, shyly at him, and he returned the act. He let me admire the gardens for a few brief moments, before he guided me back indoors and up to the fourth floor, where my new chambers supposedly were.
When we reached the door of my chambers, I could feel his nervousness return. He informed me that a handmaiden, by the name of Kelda was awaiting me inside, informed me that she would lead me to the Dining Hall and left, rather quickly. I stared after him, wishing he would return and teach me more about Asgard, particularly about the dress code, as this fear suddenly struck panic in my heart. Pull yourself together. I slowly opened the door, and found a busty woman, who looked to be my age, with long blond hair and the signature blue Asgardian eyes sitting on a chair next to what was now my bed. She rose quickly and curtsy to me.
"Please," I said, "Don't do that." She eyed me carefully as I walked over and collapsed down into her now empty chair. "Forgive me, but this has been a tiring day. I hardly think I have the energy to stand any longer."
She smiled at me, "Welcome to Asgard, Miss Rowen." She had a bubbly voice, and an extremely kind face, with delicate features. I couldn't help but read her thoughts as her voice loomed into my head.
She does look exhausted, poor thing. I can't believe the Allfather and Great Mother expect her to wine and dine after such a tiring day. And to find out that she is to wed the trickster! Poor dear… I suddenly felt grateful that I was blessed with a kind woman, rather than a grouchy wench. Though one phrase did stand out to me: the trickster?
"Forgive my fatigue," I said, smiling at her, "I shall rise in a moment, but for now I must stop this strain on my feet."
"Aye, m'lady. I would allow you to rest all evening; however the Allfather demands your presence for supper, which shall commence in two hours."
"Certainly that leaves me time to sit, does it not?" I asked, hopefully.
Kelda shook her head, slowly, "I'm afraid not, m'lady. Asgardian women pride themselves in their beauty in clothing and in physical appearance, and since the Great Mother has instructed me to dress you in Asgardian threads, and teach you of Asgardian fashion…" Her voice trailed off, and I understood. I eventually gave in to Kelda, once again rising to my feet, where she instructed me to remove my simple, silver gown. She returned to me with a long, beautiful dress in dark emerald green. The front was simple, with a swooping neckline and long sleeves, while white material trailed down from them.
"The Great Mother wishes you to wear the color of Master Loki," Kelda explained, laying the gown down gingerly onto the bed. I swallowed.
Though Asgard was incredibly beautiful and quite easy to love, its fashion of its women was not. Kelda had to explain to me the importance of each garment as I slipped it on, one after the other. The first layer was a simple white dress, to act as an undergarment. On top of that, loomed the object that I loathed with all of my being: the corset. It was a vile object that I viewed as torture, rather than fashion as its primary goal was to diminish my waist until I could wrap both of my hands around it. I clutched the edge of the bedpost, digging my nails into it as Kelda tightened it so tightly around my waist that I was sure I would faint, or that my breasts would burst from its tight confines.
"What is the purpose of such an infernal contraption?" I asked Kelda in between gasps, "Have the women of Asgard taught themselves not to breathe?"
"I know its painful m'lady, but 'tis what the Queen desires," Kelda replied, seeming satisfied with my waist size as she tied the corset, "It is only for dinner, m'lady, as soon as it is over you may remove of it and never be forced to wear it again, except for formal occasions."
I rolled my eyes as Kelda slipped another white garment over my head, and then went to fetch the final gown. She slipped it over my head, and smoothed out all the wrinkles and creases, while I held my left arm up closely to my eyes to inspect the color. They were almost the same shade as Loki's eyes, except perhaps his eyes were a shade or two lighter.
"Why is Loki's color green?" I wondered, aloud.
"The general consensus is believed to be that it is for the color of his eyes, miss. Yet, this can't be true, as Master Thor's color is a bold crimson while his eyes are blue. Perhaps their colors are to suit their personalities." Kelda said, tying the strings in the back of the gown. When she finished, she bustled off to the closet at the back of the room and returned with high heeled shoes, which matched my dress. She had me sit in the chair next to the bed, and went down to remove my old shoes.
"I don't like this…" I said.
"What do you mean, miss?" Kelda asked, removing my right shoe.
"This act of being waited on… I do not like it. I'm not accustomed to it. I can dress myself perfectly well."
Kelda smiled, "Ah, well you are gracious, miss. It must be hard, learning an entire different culture when you have just mastered your own. I nodded and gazed around the room, trying to figure out a way to breathe properly without gasping. Once Kelda finished fastening the shoes around my ankles, she stood in front of me and gazed at my hair.
"You have lovely hair, miss. It is the same shade of black as Master Loki's. And so long..." she observed. I had my mothers hair, wavy, black as midnight and long, as it reached past the middle of my back. "You'll be standing out like a sore thumb in Asgard, but perhaps this will make Master Loki feel less alienated. He and the Lady Sif have been the only two Asgardians in history to have raven hair, perhaps a third will ease their feelings of loneliness."
"Who is this Lady Sif?" I asked, as she began to brush my wavy hair.
"She is a warrior, miss. The first maiden to become one, at that. Oh, in the beginning, Master Thor used to scoff her day and night at her silly ambitions, until he fought her one day, and she beat him! Oh, her father was proud, as was the Allfather. She is brave, miss, very brave. Though she did not always have her raven hair, oh no."
"What happened?" I asked. At my question, I felt Kelda hesitate, and her movements on my hair slowed down. I used this opportunity to hear her.
She doesn't know? Surely, she must! Why would the Allfather not tell his soon to be daughter-in-law what exactly she is marrying? Do they wish to have a clean slate for Master Loki? Not that he deserves one, that snake, always causing mischief in the Palace, always playing tricks on Thor. But perhaps they do not wish for her to know? They wish to keep her shrouded from the truth…
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Kelda had just referred to Loki, her future husband, as "that snake." What did this mean? What other secrets was I to be kept from in one day? What had Loki done to Sif…and to Thor? Why was all the important information always hidden from me?
"Kelda," I said, trying to calm my voice. I could coax her into telling me. "I have been kept in the dark for so long. I only was told today that I was to leave my family behind and wed an Asgardian. I was only told today that my marriage to Master Loki had been planned since infancy. I beg of you,"-I paused for dramatic effect- "Please, do not keep something worth knowing from me."
She continued to work on my hair, and I could hear her arguing with herself in her mind. This went on for moments, until she finally reached a verdict.
"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, miss, but… It is because of Master Loki, that the Lady Sif no longer has the golden hair she was born with. He was jealous, you see, as he was the only Asgardian in history to be born with such black hair, and he was always jealous of Lady Sif's, as she was so often admired for it. So, one night while she slept, Master Loki crept into her chambers, and cut off all her flaxen hair. After he did it, he replaced it with enchanted hair made by the dwarves."
Suddenly, I laughed. The man I met earlier, he could not have possibly done such a wicked deed. It was impossible.
"'Tis no joke, miss," Kelda said sorrowfully, "The Lady Sif was devastated. Loki may have had all of Asgard fooled, but she knew."
So it was true. "Has Loki always done things like that?" I asked, quickly.
"Oh, yes," Kelda said with relish, "Always. That's why he's the god of mischief, he is. A sorcerer, a powerful one he is, miss. Always using his magic to cause trouble, to cause trickery to befall on some poor sod. He's tricked me a few times."
"Why?" I demanded, "Why would he do such things?"
"Jealousy, I think. He's always been jealous of Master Thor. Loki has been trained to fight, and while he is quite excellent at it, Master Thor is the better fighter, the stronger fighter and the more handsome. Could not be easy to grow up in the shadow of one so beloved as ones brother, I fear." She said, sadly.
"Jealousy," I repeated. I couldn't think of words to say to Kelda at this point, and I heard her instantly regret what she had just informed me. The god of mischief. The god of Mischief was to be my husband. What did this mean for me? Would I be living the rest of my life in fear not to anger Loki or get on his wrong side? Would he pull tricks on my anyways? Was this his way of showing affection to those he loved, yet was misinterpreted as a sin? Just when I thought all of my questions had been answered, an entire dam of questions broke loose in my head.
AN: I feel I should mention... This all obviously takes place before the film. I have a picture of Rowen's dinner dress on my profile. Thank you all for reading and for your helpful and encouraging reviews :)