Chapter 6
Imogen sat at her dresser, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She didn't know what she was looking for. A queen, maybe?
She just saw herself.
Not a queen.
Her eyes looked wide and slightly crazy as she stared, feeling the anxiety rise in her chest. There was no way she was going to be a queen in half a moon's time. Look at her! She was no way queen-material! Her violet orbs gleamed with a calm sort of panic, her mind racing behind them.
What was she going to do...
"I'm certain she just smiled at me." Thor chuckled behind her, wondering in from the nursery. Imogen watched him through the mirror, beaming down at the baby cradled in his arms.
She didn't even know what to say, her mind running blank. Well, not blank. All she could think about was how she was too erratic to be a queen. Not about small talk though. She wanted to be happy her baby was smiling, to be excited and fawn over the event... but she couldn't. Not while this was looming over her.
A large hand settled on her shoulder, and she jumped, but relaxed when she saw Thor's bright blue eyes staring back at her through the mirror's reflection, calm and serene.
A small smile graced his lips, knowing. Reassuring. "It will be fine." he breathed softly. "Once I am king, I can make it so they never hurt us again."
They... the court. The 'new mistress' thing had shaken them a little. Well, shaken ... in the form of enraged. Thor was furious about it, though no one would know from the way he stared at her softly now, nor would anyone know of Imogen's anger by the dull gaze she sent back at him. But they were. The mere idea...
It was nothing short of insulting. The court had as good as openly declared that she was not good enough and Linda had been a replacement. It hadn't been accepted, but still, the message was clear.
And it was starting to get to Imogen, especially as the day of the coronation drew nearer.
It wasn't in her nature to doubt but.. what if they were right?
She was hardly the typical ideal of a Queen. She was too spirited, too brash, too forward. Thor was still in awe of the way she'd stormed to Linda's chambers and had had audienced sex with him! And it had worked; Linda had been moved out of her room and sent back to her parents the next day.
But would a Queen do that? A calm, caring, soothing Queen... Imogen wasn't sure. There was more than Thor's opinion that mattered now.
She didn't move as Thor leaned down and pressed his mouth into the crowd of her head, his orbs glittering like jewels at her in the mirror. "I'll rewrite the laws," he breathed, promising. "Find advisors I actually trust ...I'll fix this. We don't have long to wait."
It made Imogen's heart grip all over again with fear. She as Queen, in but a few short weeks...
She remembered when she'd first been pregnant with Shelby and the way she'd feared for her reputation, for how it would affect Thor - and that was just as a lowly servant! As Queen of Asgard, her reputation would be so much more important. Every move would be scrutinized. What if she wasn't careful enough?
It wasn't just her parents who would disapprove anymore - it was a whole kingdom of people, judging her. Normally, she would say she wouldn't care about what people thought about her, but...
But what people thought about her affected how they thought about Thor, and that mattered. A great deal.
While Imogen grew more anxious, Thor was settling down about the coming coronation; he wasn't scared anymore. Now he couldn't wait to take the throne. Now that he knew what was wrong, and what he wanted to do to fix it. He couldn't wait to have the power to do so, so those pompous fools could never hurt his wife again. He'd make them so redundant they'd be like nothing more than furniture.
He'd felt what it was like to be helpless to their influence, watching the way it affected his wife and child, his marriage... no, there was no fear that was strong enough for him to just accept for that to happen. He wouldn't allow it.
The court were wise to be keeping their distance since the Linda incident; the god was furious. They'd overstepped their bounds, used powers that were not theirs against him, the prince. How dare they! The court may have the power the recommend and advise... but they'd as good as blackmailed him by proceeding so without his consent. He wanted to have them all chained up for unlawful influence, but that would only make him look tyrannous.
Until he was king and could have their powers delegated, there was nothing he could do but sit back and shield his wife and child the best he could.
And looking at his wife's glum face reflected at him in the mirror, he wasn't doing a very good job.
Sighing, he knelt down beside her and rested his head against her arm, breathing in the scent of her skin. She stared down at him blankly. It tugged at his heart painfully; his wife was normally so fearless, and now she was just...hardened. Thor knew her well enough though. She was hardening to protect herself.
He nudged the baby up in his arms. "See this." he breathed, peeling Shelby gently away from his chest. Imogen's eyes fell instantly to their baby. Her lips flickered in a smile. Thor's bright eyes drank in that little spark of happiness eagerly, heart aching with love as Imogen reached out a finger to dangle in front of their child. "This is all that matters." he insisted, easing Shelby up into her mother's arms. He watched the expression on Imogen's face just glow lovingly. "Titles and courts come and go, but this..." His finger found Shelby's tiny hand and the baby clung to it. "She is ours forever."
A chuckle flowed beautifully from Imogen's lips, staring down at the child as if she were the only thing in the universe. Imogen was a fierce woman - fierce in love too, for her child. Thor smiled.
"You are right." his wife finally murmured, readjusting their baby slightly in her arms. Thor held his breath. "I think she is smiling at you."
Thor laughed before he could help it, but didn't regret a moment of it as it sent Imogen into giggles too. He stood swiftly and pressed his lips to her cheek, holding her near. "We have every reason in the world to be happy." he sighed, smiling.
Imogen's hand reached up and gripped his on her shoulder. Her eyes were like jewels as they glittered up at him through the mirror, so soft and gentle they weren't like Imogen's orb at all. But they were hers, and they were beautiful. His wife could be aggressive and fiery...but it was when those fires sank into a simmering glow that Thor found his wife simply irresistible.
"What did I do to deserve someone as good as you." she squeezed his fingers, reflecting the clench of her heart.
Thor just grinned. "Seduced your prince, if I recall correctly."
He chuckled as Imogen's hand swatted his playfully on her shoulder, and earned a giggle from her as he wrapped his arms round her, nuzzling his mouth into her neck. He didn't want her to feel anything other than the princess she was.
Imogen's blissful sigh was music to his ears: "If I can give you a son," she breathed. "Then maybe things will get better."
If Thor had an heir or two then the court could have no more reason to complain about her. Whatever her background, she'd have protected the royal bloodline. It didn't matter what Thor did with her then as long as she gave him a son. And so far, Shelby was just the court's way of proving she was an inadequate wife. Once she'd given him a son, then the court would probably bear her no more grudge than if she were just his mistress again, provided she keep her head down.
Her lips curved at the thought. She missed those carefree days of being Thor's mistress, free for them to do whatever they wanted with no court or interfering nobles to get in the way.
She didn't miss the way Thor's arms stiffened around her, though his nose nuzzled at her neck softly. "It will happen." He murmured, pressing a kiss to where her neck met her shoulder. "In time."
XXX
"She's a bonny little girl." Imogen's mother crooned lovingly, pushing the sewing needle through the mesh. Her bright, sparkling eyes roamed over her work to the little baby between her and Imogen, laid out happily on the floor, rattling a belled toy happily.
Imogen's finger paused, eyes lifting. They were hard and heavy. She set her work down on her lap as she stared down at her child, thinking.
She was ashamed at herself for what she thought though – why couldn't you be a boy?
A boy would have made things so much easier. She loved her daughter like no other, but… the little girl's eyes rolled back, trying to look behind her, smile already on her pretty little face. She gurgled happily, little fist shaking the rattle.
Imogen couldn't help beaming too as the little girl's big, beautiful blue eyes met her mother's. Gods, she really was a beautiful little baby. Such a beautiful little face, fine, pretty blonde hairs growing on her head, her small, chubby body dressed in the white lace outfit Thor's mother had made for her… she was like a little angel.
But she couldn't take the throne.
Imogen needed to give her husband a son…
"Are you nervous about the coronation?"
Imogen snapped her eyes up and caught her mother's twinkling ones, staring at her over the baby. Her mouth shot open to deny it – but caught herself just in time.
Her brow furrowed. Nervous… yes, she was. In three days she'd be crowned Queen of Asgard alongside Thor, to be King…she was very nervous, especially with her 'failed' reputation in court. She let her eyes drop down to the abandoned thread and needle in her lap. "Maybe." She murmured.
A light, feminine chuckle was all that answered her. "You will be a wonderful queen." Her mother reassured warmly. "You are a wonderful woman, a wonderful wife, a wonderful mother… you will be a glorious queen."
Imogen's lips quirked in a feeble smile. She didn't say anything though.
Thor was busy for today. Busy tending to coronation details with his father. Imogen had come to her parents instead, needing the comfort only a mother could give.
She hated sewing, but she'd agreed to it nevertheless. Maybe if she had some womanly craft to take back with her it might gain her some favour back at the palace. She was desperate. She didn't want to ruin Thor's chances of being a good King, just because the second most powerful people in the kingdom didn't like his wife.
Normally, she was adamant – she was her own woman, she didn't need to change for anyone. Thor had told her the same, that he loved her just the way she was.
But she loved him too and that was why she uncharacteristically cared about what the court thought of her. If it was just her on the line, she didn't care. She'd know the truth about herself and that would be enough. But if it damaged Thor… she couldn't take him down with her.
Her eyes dropped down into her lap, unable to hold her mother's kindly eye anymore. "Mother…" her voice was wary but she couldn't help it. "Did you and Father ever want a son?"
She had to know. A son would have been better than a daughter. He could have learned the trade, brought in more money than a daughter… sure, she guessed she'd brought in a hefty bridal price Thor was so desperate to marry her but still... surely a son would have been better. Made life easier.
She didn't need to look up to see her mother put her sewing aside, hearing her heavy sigh. "You know I was left barren after I had you, Imogen." She said quietly. "I couldn't have any more children."
Imogen hunched her shoulders, her needle picking at the mesh on her sewing. She picked mindlessly, trying to focus on that. She kept her eyes fused on her lap, refusing to lift them. "I know." She murmured. "Didn't father want a son though? Things would have been better if you'd had a son."
Her hands were almost shaking as she waited for her mother's answer. She just had to know. There was no one's opinions she trusted more than her mother's.
"I thought that once." Volva finally admitted. "I asked him about it once. I thought that I was failing him as a wife by not being able to give him a son." The same as I feel, Imogen breathed in her head. She tensed though as she felt her mother's needles click, setting them down firmly beside her. A small chuckle oozed from her Volva: "But do know what he said?"
Imogen stiffened even more, cursing in her head as her mother moved forward, crawling ahead, leaning over Shelby. She was helpless to resist as her mother hooked a gentle finger under Imogen's chin, guiding her eyes up. They were glistening with tears as they met Volva's kindly, comforting orbs.
The backs of Volva's fingers brushed over Imogen's cheek softly, her soft smile scouring over her treasured daughter's face. "He said it didn't matter if the child was a girl or a boy or pink with green polka dots, as long as it was ours. And he was so right, my darling." Her palm flattened lovingly over Imogen's cheek. "You are everything we ever wanted."
Imogen tried. She really tried. She clamped her jaw down hard, her eyes blinking furiously… but the first tear rolled over her cheek regardless.
"And I'm sure Thor would say the same."
Yes, Imogen answered in her head, bowing her head down to her lap again, breaking free of her mother's hand. He would say exactly that. He wouldn't care about what child they had; he just wanted a family with her.
And that's why she had to take the responsibility for this. Why she had to understand why it was so important.
For a few moments, she just sat there, her mind racing. Thor wouldn't hear of it. He would say a son would come in time and that there was no worry, that he just wanted her to be happy. Only she wasn't happy. She could be the ruin of Thor if she was hated across the court and kingdom. If she gave him a son though, all that would change. They may not like her, but disrupting their marriage wouldn't be a target anymore. When Thor was king, his marriage would need to be his sanctuary. It was Imogen's job as a wife to secure that in any way she could.
She could feel more tears stinging at her eyes and clamped her jaw down hard, gulping down any more sobs. She wouldn't cry in front of her mother. Not anymore. It wasn't her burden to bear.
Her heart thumped hard in her chest, feeling her panic rising. She'd come here seeking help...but nothing had changed. She still felt like a failure.
She sucked in a deep breath.
Blinking her eyes clear, she slowly lifted her head, meeting her mother's heartbreaking gaze once more. It was all Imogen could do to keep her eyes blank, hiding the thoughts that raced through her head. She didn't want her mother to be troubled because of her problems.
It felt like her face cracked as she forced her lips into a stiff smile; it was the best she could do. Her shaky fingers closed around the sewing in her lap and put it on the ground beside her.
Her heart beat numbly in her chest. "I think I need some air."
Even her voice sounded lifeless, she thought as she slowly rose to her feet, smiling all the time. She had to at least pretend she was alright, for her mother's sake.
She didn't dare look at Shelby though as she turned away, fixing her eyes instantly on the door; she didn't want to think of the horrible things that might go through her mind at the sight of her daughter. Daughter - not son. She didn't want to think those things about her and Thor's precious little girl. It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair to fall apart in front of her mother either. The woman was recovering from a serious illness for goodness sake - how could Imogen dump all her worries on her mother's shoulders to bear too?!
No, she thought, eyes locked on the door. Past the door, she could fall apart. Past the door, no one would care. She just had to get there.
She could feel her hands trembling as they reached for the cottage door, taking in a shaky breath. Maybe her control wasn't so great after all. She was slipping. Past the door, she told herself, past the door...
She screwed her eyes shut as her hand closed around the door handle, feeling her mother's sorrowful eyes on her back. I'm sorry, she sent in her head to her mother. I'm so sorry. She hadn't meant for this to happen. She guessed she'd been naive in thinking everything would be okay if she just married Thor. That 'love could conquer anything' like in the fairytales. But Thor couldn't protect her from everything. Real life didn't work like that.
The door felt heavier than it had this morning when she'd come in, and she didn't have the will to do more than crack it open. She slipped outside and leaned back, closing it.
Then the strength failed her; her hand flew to her mouth as the first sob broke free and she screwed her eyes shut against the threatening tears. No, she scolded herself, spare hand clawing at the door as her knees felt weak, holding her upright. She hated herself as she fell apart.
She was supposed to be strong. Crying wouldn't solve this - she had to do something, somehow! Standing there crying wouldn't get her a son.
She clamped her throat shut and forced herself to step forward slowly. Then another step. People stared at her but she didn't care, lowering her shaky hand to her side and blinking furiously to clear her eyes. Strong, she told herself. Thor had no need for a weeping woman for a wife.
He needed someone who could give him sons.
The more steps she took, the more strength returned to her. She kept her eyes ahead, focused and firm. Proud.
Think, she willed herself. She had to decide what to do. Resign herself over to her daughter and adopt Thor's carefree 'it will happen in time' thesis, live with torment from the court and pray that no disaster would happen, was one option. If something did happen, Thor would be in no position as a new king, heirless, commoner for a wife, to have much support.
Or she could try for a new baby. Pray for a son, no matter what Thor or her mother said. She could earn them security. There would be no disapproval or resentment. The court would only be interested in Thor after that, wouldn't judge him based on his family life. He'd have support.
The answer was clear in her head: despite what her mother said, what Thor said, Imogen needed another baby.
A son.
How though? She couldn't make herself pregnant, let alone secure a son with certainty. That was...something thatjust happened. A blessing.
She didn't have time to wait for a blessing though. The coronation was in days. Thor would have an uncertain first year as it was as king, that much was certain now. But the least she could do was give him a son as soon as possible, and pray she wasn't too late. Disaster wouldn't wait for her. She had no time to lose.
Her knees felt numb again as she walked, her mind focused on nothing but the situation she had to resolve. The noise and bustle of the streets faded to background noise to her.
She didn't even know where she was walking. She just walked, carving a path to gods only knew where. The crowds thickened the further she went, but her eyes were too glazed in thought to care about what was going on. Maybe this was normal for the streets; she didn't spend enough time down here to know.
She had to bed Thor. That much was certain. Bed him as much and often as she could and prayed she fell pregnant before too long.
A son.. what would they name him? Something strong, something brave. He would be everything to them, the most famous child in Asgard if Imogen could only concieve.
Suddenly, she stopped stark in her tracks. Someone bumped into her back at her sudden halt but hurried on with mumbled apologies. Imogen barely noticed them, her eyes staring ahead wide with horror. Her thoughts flew back to her mother's words: 'I was left barren after I had you.'. Gods... what if Imogen was the same? What if Volva had passed on her curse to her daughter?
The breath hitched in Imogen's throat. She might as well throw herself from the palace roof now if that was the case and save Thor and the court the trouble! What if she was barren? She'd never bear another child at all, let alone a son!
She could feel the blood drain from her face and knew that she was going to faint. The weakness in her knees and the dizziness in her head...she was going to pass out.
Her foot staggered backwards as the world started to sway.
Then a strong, vice like hand gripped her arm and tugged her forward. It jerked Imogen back slightly and her swimming eyes fell on a woman in front of her, with a pair of huge amber eyes.
Short and ragged, Imogen knew this woman: the medicine woman. A shawl covered her head, thin strands of wiry grey hair running messily either side of her face. She was old and hunched, but the light in her eyes was of that of a much younger woman. This was the woman Imogen had bought her mother's medicine from. She was famed. And expensive.
Imogen's first thought was that she recognised her. There was something about the gleam in the woman's eyes that told Imogen the woman knew who she was, that she was Thor's wife and not some random woman. Imogen didn't dress like a queen. So many people just passed her in the street unless she was with Thor. That would all change with a son. They would all love her instead of have no opinion.
But this woman knew.
For such a small, thin hand the woman had a strong grip, but Imogen was glad, feeling the pressure anchor her to reality a little more.
"Would you like to come in for a drink?" the woman asked, voice stronger than her appearance. They didn't seem to match, such a strong voice against such a frail appearance. "Some water? You look pale."
In any case, Imogen was hardly in much position to question her. Whatever this woman wanted, Imogen knew that if she refused she'd pass out before she'd reached the end of the street. Maybe it was worry, or the hot sun above her...her head span again as she thought back to the possibility that she was barren.
Her throat ran dry again. No! All she could do was nod, and let the woman guide her forward. Imogen couldn't see. Vaguely she noticed the doorframe pass either side of her as she stepped into a building, but all she could think of was... gods, no the thought was too awful...
She slumped lifelessly into the chair the woman brought her to and let the cup of water be forced into her hand. She didn't even have the will to bring it to her mouth.
She sat heavily back in the chair, feeling lifeless. Gods, all this panic, this pressure... but after a son it'll all be better, she promised herself. After a son, she'll have done all she could and would never have to worry again. A son would save her. Save them all.
"You must drink."
Imogen blinked as the woman's hand closed around hers on the glass and eased it up, towards her mouth. She let her, only parting her lips as the glass reached her mouth. The water was cool and crisp, surprising for such a hot day. It was refreshing; she felt her head clear almost instantly after the first sip. It was magical.
The woman pulled the glass away after a few gulps, but a few was enough. Imogen's eyes blinked, innocently impressed as the woman took the glass from her hand, replacing it on the counter.
Blinking, Imogen started to notice the shop around her. There was a counter in front of her, with bottles and vials stacked neatly either side. Imogen was pretty sure that there were cabinets inside the counter, holding more of the same potions that lined the shelves around her. This wasn't the same shop that she'd been in when Volva had been ill.
It didn't weigh on her mind that much. Maybe Thor had given her money in thanks for Volva's healing that she didn't know about. It sounded like the sort of thing he would do.
The woman caught her attention again as she settled behind the counter, leaning her elbows on the wood. Her massive amber eyes were impossible to ignore.
"I know what troubles you."
Imogen snapped to high alert instantly. Her eyes flew to the woman's round, almost scary ones. The breath froze in her lungs; "I don't know what you mean." she breathed after a beat.
She had to lie. It was one thing confiding in her mother, but to a regular citizen, someone she didn't know...she couldn't share her personal business. Thor was going to be crowned in days; she couldn't let on to the kingdom that there was a clink in the chain, a weakness in their future monarchs.
Her eyes narrowed warningly and she tried to focus her mind, to be more alert. The water had done well. She sat up proudly and honed her mind. Only the more she tried to concentrate the more her mind started to wonder. Her brow furrowed.
A knowing look settled in the woman's orbs. Knowing, smug. Imogen's heart sank: she knew.
Her frown deepened. "How can you know?"
That was bad. If she knew...who else did? Imogen glanced down instinctively - was there something about her body that betrayed it? Was that possible? She couldn't afford for anyone else to know.
Her mind was swamped as the woman wondered back around the counter with surprising speed for such a small, aged woman, and closed the door to her shop, pulling the lock in place. Imogen tried not to panic at that, tried not to let her instincts panic. Her skin crawled though. It was like the air had changed into something more...sinister.
Well, it was no light matter on her mind. This was vital. And if the woman knew... "How can you know?" Imogen asked again, eyes following the woman carefully as she lingered by the door, peeking through a crack in the wood.
The woman's face sharpened, her kindly eyes narrowing as she stared through her door warily. "It is not something widely discussed." she half whispered. "Many women flock here, with the same problems as you, but do not have the courage to take what would cure them."
Imogen's heart instinctively soared. Cure? She'd heard that word leave the woman's lips. There was a cure. Whether she was barren or not, there was help for her!
Her lips parted... but she held her tongue. Many do not have the courage... what was it that cured them then? What could be so .. feared? Was that right? If there was a cure, Imogen couldn't imagine much that would stop her having it. Thor's knowledge would be one of them. She wouldn't want him to know her desperation, to know her natural failure. This would be something she kept strictly to herself from here-on out.
The 'cure' sounded ominous...but how bad could it really be?, Imogen reasoned in her head. Something a little gruesome maybe. That would turn away a lot of woman. Imogen didn't have the time for pettiness though. She had to do her duty to her husband, however she could.
"What is it?" she finally asked, warily. Her brow dipped with suspicion. "The cure. What is it?"
No matter how vile tasting or hard to swallow, Imogen would take it. She didn't have time to be patient. She needed her womb open, to bear Thor sons. She needed it now.
The woman's eyes had darkened a shade by the time she slowly turned them to Imogen. "How desperate are you?" she hissed.
Imogen just held her breath, meeting the woman's eyes squarely. Firmly. Not backing down. "Desperate enough." she insisted.
The moment the words left her lips her heart raced. What had she just consented to? She wondered as the woman walked back from the door, back around the counter. What was so ominous that she had to lock the door? Pure privacy? If the public caught word of this...
No, it seemed more than courtesy. The dark look in her eye... it made Imogen's skin tingle. Maybe whatever it was wasn't entirely legal, she started to wonder.
"You want a son." the woman said aloud, pulling a bowl of leaves from beneath the counter and a phial of clear liquid. Strangely clear. Unnaturally clear. Her eyes avoided Imogen's, absorbed in her task as she wondered to the shelves against the wall, opening the door, and picking out certain pots and potions. "All the women want sons. Not daughters. Some of them so very, very desperate to bear sons for their husbands."
The phials clinked against the little glass pot, as delicate and innocent sounding as anything. Imogen jumped when the woman abruptly slammed the cupboard door shut again, the bang making her straighten up in her chair instantly.
The woman was lost in her mumbling as she set all her gatherings on the counter, ignoring Imogen as if she was not there.
"But you are not just any ordinary woman." she rambled on as she popped the stopper of a phial and poured a few drops into the bowl of leaves. "Your son will go on to rule the realms, a great king as his father."
Imogen said nothing, unsure of whateven to say. Yes, her son would be king some day, would inherit worlds to rule. "Thor's not king yet." she mumbled quietly.
She wasn't sure if the woman just had a few screws loose... but the wild, but controlled look in her eyes...Imogen gulped. She didn't want to say what it reminded her of. It made her skin crawl. The woman didn't seem crazy. The way she said it... almost prophetic.
She watched the leaves get ground together in the bowl, drops of the various bottles dipped in to form a sticky, red paste. Imogen tried not to grimace - would she have to take that?
Her eyes widened though as the woman hovered her hand over the open bottle of blue powder and closed her eyes, muttering under her breath. Imogen couldn't ignore the chill that raced up her spine. It was like the temperature had dropped a few degrees as the fine powder inside the bottle darkened under the woman's words. In the blink of an eye, she was silent again, pouring the changed powder into the bowls mixture.
Imogen couldn't cast it aside so quickly: "Magic?" she gasped, horror seeping through her. "You're using magic for this?!" A witch.. the woman was a witch. If she was caught using magic...
Magic and medicine was strictly forbidden. Loki's harmless tricks and battle strategy was one thing, but this... this was like black magic. Like summoning demons and other darkness. If Imogen was caught with this, let alone the woman...
A part of her wanted to up and leave the store there and then, to just pretend this trip hadn't happened. But she couldn't. It was like she was rooted to her seat.
The woman's hands paused, her dark eyes lifting to Imogen's. Her amber orbs held Imogen's effortlessly. "Crafting children is not natural." the woman said somberly, her voice ominously quiet. "No natural cure can bring you your son. This is the only thing that can help you."
Imogen gulped. Gods...she needed this son. But with the help of magic? It was steeped in as much trickery as those who weilded it. Never trust a witch, she'd been taught. Maybe that was how she'd known Imogen's problem before she'd even spoke. Some sort of spirit? Something else...
It was wrong. Just too dangerous. How would Thor react? He would freak, and rightly so. This wasn't just dangerous, it was illegal. There was a reason this was banned.
Imogen got up, breaking eye contact with the woman and walked briskly round her seat to the door. She had to go, she decided. She couldn't go through with this. No. It was too risky. She'd have to just pray she fell pregnant of her own fertility, and pray even harder that it was a boy.
Her hand paused on the door though-
"Your husband will face trials."
Imogen froze, hand stilled on the door. What? Her blood froze at the woman's words. Trials... Thor...
"I have seen it." the woman went on behind her. "Dark times lay ahead for you all. So dark, not even your love for the prince and his for you will matter. Powers will rage, and you will be nothing more than a speck in the storm, at the mercy of the thunder god with your daughter at your side."
Imogen breathed a ragged breath - exactly what she'd been afraid of. More than anything, it wasn't the court that she feared the most or losing their titles - it was losing Thor's love.
Thor loved her... but would he still ten years down the line, when she had failed to give him a son and lost the crown for his descendents? It would be easy for the court to uproot her and replace her if Thor thought she failed as a wife. Who was she anyway? Just a servant girl. He had no reason to stay married to her if she couldn't give him what he needed.
Swallowing hard, she glanced over her shoulder and found the woman staring at her hard, a bundle in her hand. Imogen blinked; she'd already bound the concuction up in that short space of time? It was just a small ball of cloth, the fateful powder inside. Her son.
She didn't want to hurt Thor, but more than anything, she didn't want to lose him. A son... he would love her forever if she gave him a son.
Her hand loosened on the handle.
Her eyes locked sadly on the little bundle, tied so innocently with string at the top. She didn't want to... but for Thor, she'd do anything. She'd rather meddle with a short spell of magic than forever lose Thor. Reluctantly. But she would.
Her eyes lifted to the woman's. "What must I do?"