Silver and Scales
Chapter Three: Coronation Post-Poned
Vyperia and Loki appeared at the entrance of the castle, though Loki had to separate from her council in order to fit into his armor—a custom fit for a coronation. The appraisal for the day was one that would be told to children, to their children, and to their grandchildren.
A feast, a gala, was laid out for all of Asgard to enjoy, to gather at a wonderful union of a life that would begin anew under the reign of Thor. Volstagg would have cried joyful tears at the array of food stretched out from table after table—gold goblets, silver plates, and bowls upon bowls were filled heavily with Asgardian delicacies from heavy sweeties to bountiful meats and vegetables. The hungriest country of Midgard could be fed fifty times with the amount of food that was provided on the table. Decorations covered the pillars, wrapped tightly with Thor's colors: red and silver. It was beautiful, enchanting, and something to be admired.
"The hand-servants really know how to throw a party, don't they?" Vyperia uttered in vast astonishment, lavished with awe.
Loki smiled and made a small chuckle.
"I must depart," he told her, turning to her.
She looked at him.
"You may be a master sorcerer in all your arcane arts, Loki Odinson," she said smugly, noticing a small glimpse of distraction upon his handsome features, "but even I know that you are somewhat occupied. Don't tell me that you've become nervous for your brother, a true sentiment?"
"I am always sentimental," he retorted.
After a beat, she chuckled, knowing that he merely teased her with a light lie.
Loki smiled charmingly. His hand grabbed her arm and pulled her forward innocuously. Loki placed a sweet peck upon her mouth. Her cheeks turned bright pink as he kissed her in front of others, though she smiled shamelessly when he did so.
Loki winked at her and walked toward the chamber hall, heading forward the armory to dress for the occasion. Vyperia's eyes watched him as if she was in a trance.
She was smitten.
Vyperia joined Volstagg, Hogun, Fandral, and Lady Sif at a pillar that was laced with red silk. Volstagg greeted her with a hard pat on her back, almost slamming her to her feet,
"Hey, you came just in time!"
"For what? To be pounded into dust?" Vyperia retorted, rising steadily against the pillar, regaining some footing.
Volstagg chuckled.
"I see that you have returned to your pleasant self! It looked like you and Loki were going to start fighting when we left."
"It was a misunderstanding," Vyperia explained quickly.
"So mistaken," commented Fandral, amused, "that it took nearly forty-five minutes to clear the air? Secrets are amusing, my dear. I think you have quite a few in your little nest. Come, Vyperia, have a drink with us. We were just telling Volstagg about the grand feast that awaits him. Don't harp on it too much, though; he can get very cranky when he's hungry."
"Hungry? I famished," Volstagg corrected him. "Look at this, Fandral! How could you not want to throw your head into some of that delicious...Well, I don't know what it is, but just look at it! It has my name on it!"
Vyperia smiled.
"It's nothing but a regularly baked apple pie, from the gardens," she remarked. "You eat that every day for a dessert, Volstagg."
"Yes," he pardoned, his eyes watching it. "But it's there now..."
Fandral handed Vyperia a mug that was filled to the brim with mead. The bubbles slowly poured over her hand, though she cared not.
"You should sing with me, Scales. You have a marvelous singing voice. Come, sing with me."
"I'll join in if you start the first few bars," Volstagg planned cheerfully.
"Oh, please don't," Sif muttered, though smiling. "If I have to hear one more ode to the flowing rivers of mead, I'll throw myself on my spear willingly."
Vyperia laughed at Volstagg's look upon Sif. He mocked being hurt, for he knew that Sif was merely teasing him.
After a few more minutes of talking, gathering, and enjoying the atmosphere of a sweeping party of Asgard, the noise slowly fell—it was time. Lady Sif led Vyperia to the stairs that lay stretched to the throne of Odin, who was seated prestigious. Frigga stood on the left.
"Come, Vyperia. We must take our place," Sif told her swiftly.
Lady Sif and Vyperia stepped onto the stairs.
The crowd parted to gather in the chamber, encircling Odin's throne as the main attention. From Vyperia's view, she saw every single face alight with glad tidings: happiness and excitement clung in the air.
Her breath hitched when the doors opened and Loki, dressed in his green and gold armor—wearing his horned headpiece—strode in from the hall to walk down the straddled path. His familiar strut led him beside Vyperia, who stood between he and Lady Sif. Loki stepped ahead of Vyperia, merely inches from her. As he turned to face Odin, he winked at Vyperia with an adorable grin—her cheeks reddened and she smiled to herself, blushing.
Odin waited for his eldest to come through the hall, but the doors didn't open.
Frigga turned to Loki apprehensively.
"Where is your brother?" she asked quietly.
Loki shrugged.
"He said that he'd be along."
Vyperia heard Lady Sif scoff.
"Oh, for the love of..."
"What?" asked Vyperia.
"Ugh...he wants to make an entrance. Always wants to wield that hammer of his."
"Well, he better get in here soon," Vyperia hissed uncertainly. "The All-Father looks a tad angry."
"He'll be forgiven," Loki's voice uttered from beside her. The jealousy was evident in his tone. "He always is."
Vyperia lowered her gaze at the envy in his voice, slightly saddened.
Then the doors flung open and in came Thor, donned in his chivalrous armor; he raised his hammer above his head as a sign of strength and pride. The crowd around him cheered loudly as he strode down the path.
Before Odin, he knelt at the bottom of the staircase.
When silence fell, Odin rose to his feet and began to speak,
"Thor. Odinson...my heir..."
Vyperia's eyes closed, knowing what emotion Loki's face might have shown. His jealousy would have to be restrained at the time of his brother's appointed ceremony, but she could practically feel it radiate off him—despite how much he claimed to be glad about Thor's eventual rule.
"My first-born," Odin continued, "he who wields the hammer, Mjolnir."
His speech was carried throughout the room without having to speak loudly. Every ear and eye focused on the event, held with bated breath. Vyperia felt no one's vibration along the marble floor, as everyone stood still...
However, she felt something big, strong, and faulty quake against the soles of her heels. It was not familiar—the footsteps of an Asgardian were powerful and sure, not as these. Vyperia's eyes shifted uncertainly. Her attention was not on the ceremony anymore, but on the uncomfortable sensation against her feet.
Loki had apparently picked up the discomfort, for his hand surreptitiously reach to grab hers beside him as a minor console for what ever issue that she was facing. Her fingers gripped his, and she hoped that she was merely accompanying bundled nerves that were apprehensive for Thor's coronation.
She was that she was lying to herself, though.
"Do you swear to guard the nine realms?" Odin asked of his eldest son.
"I swear." Thor answered bravely.
"And do you swear to preserve the peace?"
"I swear."
Vyperia's nerves jangled when she felt more vibrations run through her body, more powerful. These were definitely not the footsteps of Asgardians. Loki glanced at her in mild curiosity, noting the tight grip around his hand—though, simultaneously, she seemed to go slightly pale as if through realization of a great truth.
"Do you swear," continued Odin, watching his son closely, "to throw aside your prejudice and ambition in order to do what must be done for the good of the realm?"
Thor raised his hammer in acknowledgment and cried out, with a large grin on his face,
"I swear!"
"Then on this day," continued Odin without so much a glimpse of pride, "I, Odin All-Father, proclaim you..."
Vyperia felt hard vibrations, and automatically knew that there something very wrong.
Coincidentally, Odin stopped speaking. He looked straight forward and uttered distinctively...
"Frost giants."
A quick recession happened.
Thor rose to his feet automatically. Odin turned on his heel without further explanation. The two of them headed for the lower chamber, where no doubt the Casket of Ancient Winters was being kept safe and hidden—or what they thought was so. Loki turned to Vyperia.
"Stay here," he advised her calmly. He covered her hand that gripped his so tightly. "I'm going to follow Thor and Father. The Frost Giants might have taken the Tesseract..."
Loki turned to leave; Vyperia pulled him back.
"Be careful, Loki..." she said.
A ghost of a smirk appeared on his face; he was touched by her sincerity, though amused at her warning. He leaned forward swiftly and kissed her cheek.
"I always am," he told her.
She watched him go.
Lady Sif and Volstagg appeared at her side.
"I guess Thor is king now, right?" said Volstagg uncertainly.
"Not yet," Vyperia pointed out lightly. "He never technically pronounced him 'king'."
After a pause, Fandral's voice said quite blankly,
"Damn, that has to burn Thor a little bit."