Freya followed Loki with re-found vigor. It seemed as though the prospect of wielding magic away from the prying eyes of those who could not made up for Sif's cruel words, for throwing the fight. Oddly enough he had expected her to be angrier about it all, but perhaps she was getting better at playing the game.
Or perhaps she was just becoming used to it. Loki sighed heavily at the thought. He hated to think that anyone could begin to feel accustomed to cruelty at the hands of others.
"Perhaps you could show me how you managed to duplicate yourself so? I've never seen anything like it," Freya asked, drawing him out of his reverie.
"If you desire it, we may speak of magic until we are both quite fed up with the subject," he said lightly as we walked. Freya gave him another small smile.
"I fear that you may have to clear your schedule for the next few centuries or so," Freya replied, which only made him smile in turn. Loki turned to her as he heard the faint sound of her stomach rumble. He had forgotten that she had awoken late and missed breakfast. "Though perhaps after a meal."
She made no objection as he changed their course and instead made for the kitchens. He led them to the kitchens, where they pillaged roasted meat pies and candied fruits. Loki tied them all into a kerchief while the cook wandered off to investigate the commotion he'd caused by releasing two of the feral cats she kept in the back, to serve as a distraction. The cats hissed and clawed at one another, banging over pans and kettles from the counters.
"To hell with ya, the pair of ya, yammering away like the grumpkins ya are!" The cook cried, waving a wooden spoon at them. "Ya'd better be praying I don't turn ya to soup and wear yar hides as a fancy collar!"
Freya giggled as she peaked out over the counter.
"What do you think you're doing?" Loki hissed, double knotting the kerchief. His back was pressed against the side of the counter, his ears listening hard for the sound of the cook's return.
"I'm getting a better look at your mad cook," Freya said, matter of fact-ly. Loki tugged her back down to where she couldn't be seen. The last thing that he wanted to deal with right now was a barrage of "Your highnesses."
"You're going to get us caught," he said, though a smile twisted up the corners of his mouth. She gave him a look, raising an eyebrow.
"You're the prince and I am your responsibility," she said primly, poking her head back over the wooden countertop. Loki snorted. This was a new side of Freya. He noted in surprise that this was perhaps what her natural state was closer to. Regardless, he was happy to see her so.
"Fine then, if that's how you want it," he said and pulled her from the kitchen bodily, my hand wrapped firmly around her forearm. She laughed. He was strong- much stronger than he looked, but he used hardly any force on her at all. She didn't fight him, just gave him a mock sardonic look.
"You're an idiot, you know that?" Loki said when we had run several corridors away. He shook my head.
"You've mentioned that," she replied, a smile still curving her lips. He wasn't used to seeing it there, even if it did little to quell the sadness in her eyes.
He untied their loot as they climbed the stairs and handed Freya a meat pie. She bit into it and pulled a face. "What is that?
Loki's brows furrowed. "Pheasant pie."
"It's disgusting," Freya said, handing it back to him.
"There's nothing wrong with it!" he said, taking a large bite. Freya looked on, unimpressed. "See? Nothi—"
Loki choked, his hands flying up to his throat. Freya raised an eyebrow. "Har-har, very funny."
His mouth worked like a guppy's. He dropped to his knees, still gasping for air. He dropped the kerchief and the pie onto the ground. Freya fell to her knees too, realizing the urgency of the matter. She shook him, hoping to dislodge the piece of food.
"Oh no! Oh no, what do I do? Help! Help!" she cried. Loki nearly felt bad.
A live pheasant flew from his mouth, right at Freya. She fell over, screaming. Loki fell over laughing.
"That's not funny!" Freya shouted as several guards came running. They converged on her as she kicked the offending pie at the wall. A second pheasant flew from the pie, squawking madly.
"Everything is fine," Loki said to the guards, holding up a hand lazily. He nodded and waved them away, still chuckling. He turned to Freya, grinning. "Tell me that was not amusing."
"Next time I'll let you choke and then you can tell me how amusing it is," Freya replied.
"Take a jest Freya," he said, hopping up and brushing off his clothes. She glared at him.
"Your Asgardian cuisine is beyond wanting," she said finally. Loki took this as being forgiven.
"Well then we'll have to find something to your liking. In the meantime, we have a lesson."
"Back to the library then?"
"Not for this. Somewhere safe."
Freya raised an eyebrow but stayed silent. She wondered what magic Loki was learning that required safety. Perhaps sedir, which left the castor nearly entirely vulnerable. She reviled the feeling.
Loki led them through the maze of the castle. They climbed staircase after staircase, wound through stone passageways and once, through a hidden corridor behind a tapestry. Finally, they stopped at a staircase leading to the top of one of the castle's many spires.
"This is how princesses get locked in towers," Freya said, mildly dubious. Loki laughed. They climbed for a few minutes in silence until they reached a spacious, open room.
It was entirely round and covered in bookcases. All of the furniture that lined the walls was curved, so it fit snuggly against the cool stone. An emerald couch lay in the middle of the room, facing the fireplace. It was laden with soft pillows and heavy blankets. Loki snapped his fingers at the empty hearth, causing crackling flames to erupt from within.
Loki crossed to one of the bookshelves and pulled an old heavy tome from the top shelf. He held it gingerly, as if it were a baby bird. It was bound in green linen and over the cover were worked golden runes.
"I bought it from a Vanir bookseller. It's a guide detailing the magic of the Vanir, but I haven't been able to learn anything form it. It's rather ambiguous."
Freya looked at him as if he had three heads. "You can't learn magic from a book."
Loki stared back at her, his brows furrowing. "That's how I learned."
"Then the magic of the Vanir and the magic of the Aesir must be truly different."
"Then how did you learn?"
"I didn't." Loki stared at her, perplexed. Freya took a deep breath and closed her eyes, thinking hard before continuing. "I was born with magic. It just came to me, as it does to all Vanir magic wielders. The difficult bit was learning how to control the magic and manipulate it into doing what I wished."
"Then how are you expecting to teach me?" Loki asked, brows still furrowed. She sat down on the cold stone of the floor, her eyes still tightly closed, her mind still whirring. Loki mirrored her, watching intently. Freya peeked out of one eye, confused as to why he followed her, but quickly shut it and pretended that everything was going to plan.
Suddenly a memory flashed before her eyes. An idea sprang to her mind.
"Get angry."
"Pardon."
"Get really, really angry. I once tore a hole through Freyr's bedchamber wall when he upset me."
"What did he do?" Loki asked, his interest piqued.
"He locked me in his cupboard, after he filled it full of—" Freya stopped, her eyes narrowing as she remembered the pheasants. She didn't fancy waking up in a room filled to the brim with bats.
Loki stared at her dubiously before closing his eyes. Freya watched, brows furrowed, hoping it would work. Loki concentrated, his face becoming pinched.
It seemed to wait a long time, but just when she thought that nothing was happening, she was hurled back in a flash of blue light. Freya landed crumpled by the shelves. Loki looked up, seemingly as shocked as she was that it worked.
Freya lay for a moment without moving, allowing herself to catch her breath. She was sure that she would be gifted with several fresh bruises in the morning for her teaching efforts. Still, she was pleased that her instructions had yielded results, especially as she had been grasping at straws while delivering them.
"Points for style," she said as I got up. Loki was crouched, frozen, his face scrunched into that of confusion.
"Why did it appear blue?" Loki asked, staring at his hand.
Freya's mind snapped back to her previous vision, to that of Jotunheim, of the Frost Giants gathered around Laufey's temple Of swirling blue winter and a voice saying "Asgard is finally ours."
"I don't know," she said quickly, shaking her head. She had no idea what the vision truly meant, though twice she had found it in the forfront of her mind while in Loki's presence. Perhaps there was some connection to him. Freya wondered what sort of connection a son of Odin had to Jotunheim. "Perhaps the answer's in one of your books."