I know it's been awhile folks, but I've been so busy with work and was waiting for some inspiration. I finally got going again…
Father, I do not believe she is the solution. She has been overwhelmed by her dealings with my brother. She knows not her full power, and I fear she never will.
Patience Thor. I believe we will yet see her rise to her full potential. The game is not yet over.
Game, Father? It is a very dangerous one we are playing. Should we lose, Asgard will not be the only realm to suffer.
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It had to have been days this time, and all the while she was tortured by nightmares. Nightmares of darkness and cold like she had never experienced before, cold down to the very marrow of her bones. In her dreams there was no sun to warm her, and she longed for the golden light of Asgard. Beings with blue skin and red eyes surrounded her, bowed down before her. She fled from them but they always found her, and chanted her name. Occasionally Loki would appear on the periphery of her dreams, whispering something she could not hear, and she would run towards him, knowing against every ounce of her better judgment that she would be safe if she could just hear his voice. But just as she would reach him, try to throw her arms around him, he would disappear. The despair she felt at those moments was utterly complete. Howling into the freezing darkness, she would lay down in the frost, only to be surrounded once again by monsters.
When she awoke, she was shocked to find herself drenched in sweat. There was a great commotion as she flailed in her bed sheets. Servants went running, pillows were upended, and a great roar could be heard coming down the hallway towards her.
Must be Thor, she thought, even through the haze of heat and sleep.
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"I would speak with Miss Vinter alone", proclaimed the God of Thunder. The remaining servants scattered, and the door of her room closed with a great thud. Rowan was finding it took a great effort just to sit up.
"It is a relief to see you awake Rowan", he said, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Please, do not exert yourself. You have been quite ill". Rowan's head fell back to her pillow. She was so weak. Her mouth was bone dry, and she barely squeaked out her first words,
"How long?"
"Seven days", said Thor. "You were quite feverish. You were calling out in your sickness."
"Calling out?"
"Yes"
"For what?"
"Not for what, for who. For my brother"
Rowan closed her eyes, and turned her head away from Thor. He knows.
"Tell me Rowan", Thor began, his blue eyes boring into her. "What do you know of Jotunheim?"