Chapter 7

"Take this with water every night. Even after you fall with child take it still. Place this stone under your husband's pillow. Do this, and I guarentee you, you will have a son."

The words echoed in Imogen's head and she prayed they were true. Staring at herself in the mirror, seeing the beautiful woman in the reflection...she looked like a queen. She did.

Except the figetty hand, tapping at her thighs, the wide, frightened eyes...

She couldn't help it. Ever since that day in the medicine shop, she'd been on edge, as if someone knew, as if someone was going to catch her out, going to accuse her. No one knew. No one could. She kept it hidden. Locked in her draw. Not even Thor knew it existed. No one saw her leave the shop with anything. She'd carefully restyled her hair in a bun, tying it around the small package of medicine to conceal it. No one could know. The fact she was sonless alone was bad enough, but if people knew she was seeking help for the problem...

It would ruin Thor. True or not, rumours would spread of Thor and his infertile wife. And that would be devastating to him. The court would have a parade!

She tried to force it out of her mind. She'd tried. She'd taken the medicine and hidden the stone under Thor's pillow, bedded her husband as many times as she could before she feared her true anxieties would show through, her obsession unconcealable. For now though, Thor seemed to believe her lusts were a consequence of happiness, that they were finally taking the crown at last. She'd rather him think that. That was better.

Her hand smoothed over her stomach over her dress, as if she could sense if she'd conceived yet. As if she could feel if she had a baby prince growing inside her.

It's only been two days, she scolded herself in her head. She had to be patient. Even if she had conceived, she wouldn't be sure for weeks yet. She had to wait.

Waiting had never been her strong suit though.

She forced her breath out between her teeth and tried to stay calm. She would have her son, she told herself. In a month, she would know she was pregnant and her hopes would be restored. She closed her eyes and tried to breath calmly. It would happen. She had faith. As risky as magic was, it rarely failed. It was powerful.

She imagined Thor with another baby in his arms, smiling down at his son...the smile curved her lips. Yes, that was what she wanted.

Her eyes blinked open and she saw her reflection again. With her smile, her bright, happy eyes...it completed the image. She was a queen.

Her hair was twisted up beautifully, pearls and jewels drapes over her locks. The shimmering stones shone out from her dark curls. She looked beautiful, her skin clear and smooth, her smile happy, and her eyes bright, like violet jewels.

She'd lost weight in the last few days. Enough to make the skin of her stomach tone up nicely. She was almost her old figure, lithe and slim. Slim enough to feel happy in the dress Thor had had made for her. She couldn't believe his nerve...it was beautiful. A rich gold colour, it clung to her figure closely. The gold material hung over one shoulder, and billowed beautifully behind her, attached to a ring on her wrist. The skirt fell to her ankles, split at her right hip, revealing her whole right leg covered in a see-through underskirt, with intricate gold patterns on it. It showed off her skin, ephasised the glow to her complexion, leaving all of her recently trim figure up for scrutiny.

It was bold, but beautiful. At first Imogen had been nervous, knowing Thor chose the design. She'd though modest was the style to go for, but looking at her reflection now...she looked like a goddess, golden and radiant.

She smiled one last time at her reflection before she turned on a stylish heel. Her shoes were heels, golden, thin straps wrapping delicately around her ankles and lower calves.

She felt good as she left her bedroom, rejoining the maids she'd sent away to outside her room. It was time she found Thor.

She felt no reservations now. She felt herself again; lifting her chin up, she felt proud. She smiled happy and triumphant as she strode effortlessly down the corridor, the flow in the material behind her making her feel like she was gliding down the corridor, flowing like water. She felt unstoppable, the happiest woman in the world.

The maids followed obediently behind her, and Imogen heard them whisper and giggle. It just made her smile wider - everyone was happy this day.

She didn't want to think of how many people would be there today. It would be as celebrated as their wedding day, the outer Hall spilling out into the kingdom so all, far and wide could stand and see. That was terrifying... but feeling the way she was, not even that would be able to stop her.

Excitement bubbled in her stomach as the walls of palace morphed into glorious gold and she turned a corner - and there was Thor.

She stopped in her tracks, the breath freezing in her lungs. He looked... magnificent!

His armour hug every muscled morsel of his body perfectly, showing his strength and power to glory. He looked tall and mighty, cape billowing from his shoulders...but his face was soft. His mouth was stretched in a relaxed smile, eyes bright and happy, skin glowing with joy. His hair was golden and beautiful around his face, before his winged helmet took over, shielding the rest of his head. He looked truly the vision of a king. Strong and powerful, but kind and gentle - he was perfect.

His eyes lifted from talking with his own servant and his moving mouth stopped instantly when he saw her. His eyes glimmered with ..well, everything. Pride, joy, adoration, love...

Enough to have him clap his servant on the shoulder in dismissal and stride past him towards her, eyes roaming hungrily over her lush form. Imogen fought the blush. Now wasn't the time for modesty. She didn't need to be - she was beautiful, and she knew it.

"Wow.." he breathed as he drew to a halt in front of her. His eyes scoured over her body. "You look..." He looked like he couldn't even string a sentence together, couldn't take his eyes off her. "Incredible." he finally settled on with a gasp.

Imogen giggled as his eyes finally lifted back to hers, and she held nothing back in her beam as Thor's fingers gathered up hers and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. She felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest. Behind her back, her spare hand waved the maids away and she listened to them shuffle away obediently. She wanted a moment alone with her husband.

Servants out the way, she had no qualms about wrapping her arms around Thor's neck and drawing his lips into hers for a deep, slow kiss.

"Well it was your input on the design that made the dress so beautiful." she breathed against his mouth before claiming it again, stroking her tongue slowly and leisurely with his.

"Hm." Thor hummed in agreement against her lips. "But I'm not talking about the dress. I'm talking about the woman in it."

Imogen giggled again and let her body sway in Thor's arms as he wrapped them around her waist, hugging her close. She moaned happily as Thor kissed her tenderly, his mouth moving slow and hot on hers. His fingers massaged her skin through her dress, palm running over her curves gratefully. His growl of approval rumbled in his chest.

Imogen fought down the smirk, her hand finding Thor's armoured chest. She pushed herself back off his lips. Thor leaned forward and claimed hers again.

She gave into his kisses, knowing they didn't have long. She could hear Odin's voice further down the corridor, echoing from the Hall. At the end, a golden curtain hid them from the crowd of Asgardians. They still had time though. Not much.

Her tongue danced with Thor's, tasting the honey and sweetness from the mead he'd been drinking earlier. And he tasted her lack. "You've been drinking." Imogen breathed in between kisses.

Thor hummed again. "And you haven't." His arms tightened around her pleasingly. "Anyone would think you were with child by your abstinence these last days." he murmured, grazing his lips over hers tenderly.

Imogen tried to keep her heartbeat steady. Her thoughts flew back to the powder back in her draw, praying that it would work. Her hand cupped Thor's cheek sweetly, thumb brushing over the edge of his stubble. Her eyes followed it dreamily. "I see... I see a child in our future, Thor." she said thoughtfully. "A boy."

She felt Thor suck in a breath, felt it swell in his chest as he held it. His eyes were half lidded as his lips leaned forward to peck hers again. "How can you know?" he breathed.

Imogen just smiled, her bright eyes scouring over her husband's perfect face. "I just know."

She had faith. It had to work, it had to. Maybe she had their little prince inside her already and they just didn't know about him yet. It would make Thor so happy. She remembered the look of love and wonder on his face when Shelby had been born. It would be so much better with a boy, knowing they'd have an heir...

She brushed it out of her mind again, turning her attention back to the prince kissing her, holding her. Her hand pressed against his chest... then her fingers began to wonder.

His armour stopped him feeling her fingers travelling their slow journey south over his torso and obdomen, until she brushed under his belt and the hard bulge that sat there. Thor froze instantly. Imogen pressed her fingers against the hardness hidden behind the fabric and smirked when his hips leaned into her hand slightly, a heated sigh washing over her lips.

"It looks like you have a definite problem." she murmured, drawing her mouth back and away from his. Thor growled quietly in response.

She snatched her hand away though as the servant that had been tending to Thor reappeared at the end of the corridor. "Prince Thor." he called, not needing to worry about being overheard much as the noise of the crowd started to pick up behind him. "It's nearly time."

Imogen could hear Odin talking louder, building up Thor's entrance. Thor's arms released her instantly, and the followed the servant up the corridor with haste until they stood right in front of the golden curtain, the man stood to the side, ready to open it. Thor picked up his hammer from the floor beside him as he walked, testing the weight of Mjolnir in his hand as they moved where directed. In place, Thor offered Imogen is arm, and she laced her arm though his, fixing her dress on her person, any stray strand of hair.

"You look perfect." Thor reassured, his soft blue eyes watching her needlessly fuss. He meant every word.

The crowd was growing in volume but Thor knew they would be kept at bay from the royal couple, a guard-carved path to the throne laid out for them beyond the curtain. He couldn't wait to see it.

"In an hour," Imogen breathed, the realisation of what was going to happen setting in at last. "We'll be King and Queen." she gasped.

Thor's arm just squeezed hers in response; the curtain started to part.

Imogen resisted the urge to gasp again as the Hall was revealed to them, the roar of the crowd growing to deafening volume. She saw why Thor hadn't said anything back now - she wouldn't have been able to hear him, even from right beside her. The Hall opened as a shimmering image of gold, overflowing with people, all cheering, all happy.

Imogen followed Thor's lead as he stepped forward into the applause, raising his hammer high in triumph, urging on the crowd. Show off, she thought in her head.

It took every ounce of her self control not to round her shoulders shyly or to hide her face. There were so many people...all staring at them...

Her dress must glimmer in the sunlight she thought, watching the way the light danced from the armour of the guards that lined the path to Odin and the throne, the Warriors Three, Sif and Loki lining one side and Frigga and Imogen's parents, holding Shelby, the other. Her family.

Her smile suddenly became very real as her eyes focussed on the beams of her mother and father, and her little girl in their arms. She didn't know what they'd done to make her stop crying with all this noise around her, but she prayed it held just long enough to get the ceremony over with flawlessly. She wanted everything to go perfectly.

Scanning the crowd, her heart swelled happily when she didn't find a single cold or glaring eye in her direction. Maybe the crowd was just too dense for her to see the scowling faces of the court but she wasn't somplaining. Everyone was smiling, cheering, looking at her while they did it...

Maybe things would be okay after all.

She smiled and gave small waves, though she was reluctant to move her hands from the safety of Thor's strong bicep. She wasn't like him; egging on the crowd however he could - cheering along, lifting his hammer, tossing it impressively, just to show off his strength...he was loving the attention.

Imogen kept her attention ahead. The throne was impressive, a golden seat lifted up on two platforms of steps. It was a vision of glory, with Odin sat at the centre. She tried not to eye the steps. Gods, what if she tripped? That would just be awful! No doubt Thor would just laugh it off and help her up but.. don't do it, don't do it, don't do it, she willed in her head, as if that would make it any less likely.

They walked steadily and she felt her ears almost ringing from the crowds cheers as they neared the throne. Everyone was smiling. Except for Odin, of course. He was solemn, dutiful.

She tried to fix her beam into something more respectful as they approached the feet of the first layer of stairs. Thor did the opposite; she rolled her eyes as she caught him grin at his friends, winking at his mother. She couldn't help it. She chuckled though at the scolding look on Frigga's face, not that Thor took any heed. There was no dampening his spirits today!

She followed his lead as they stopped at the foot of the first layer of steps and he sank smoothly to his knees. Imogen did the same, trying to make sure the awkward ache the position set in her limbs, from her heels and trying to look graceful, didn't show on her face.

She bowed her head respectfully and let her arm fall from Thor's to her side as he set down his hammer and removed his helmet. She had to seriously restrain herself to keep from turning and staring at him. She kept her eyes firmly ahead, gulping subtly as Odin rose from the throne. This was it, she breathed in her head.

A single thud of the butt of Odin's staff settling on the grand floor, silenced the room instantly.

Imogen's eyes scoured over everyone she could see before her as the Hall settled, as if that would calm her nerves. She was defininely the most scandalously dressed. The warriors, Loki and Sif were all dressed in their armour, looking as proud as any protectors of Asgard should. Her father wore armour too for the ceremony, the same fine plates he'd worn for her wedding. The Queen wore a stunning dress of gold and jewels, glittering like a star, while Imogen's mother dressed in a plain cream gown, modest and fitting to her personality. Even Shelby was dressed up, covered in a gown of flowing ivory coloured lace. Imogen hadn't let her have jewels. She'd only find a way to get them in her mouth somehow.

She sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart. Odin looked splendid in his armour and shimmering gold helmet. She tried not to feel too intimidated of her father-in-law.

His eyes were on Thor, she told herself as her head lifted. She had nothing to fear. He liked her anyway.

"Thor Odinson." he said in an almost soft voice, surprising her. She didn't complain though; she felt her heart unwind in her chest, relaxing as the tention melted away. His voice travelled through the whole hall effortlessly, no one missing a single word. "My heir...my first born. So long entrusted with the mighty hammer, Mjolnir, forged in the heart of a dying star." Every word rung out clear and with power. With the authority of a king. Soon to be Thor's. "It's power has no equal, as a weapon to destroy, or as a tool to build. 'Tis a fit companion for a king." Odin nodded lightly, as if more to himself than anyone else.

Imogen breathed a smile, glancing to the side slightly. She was so proud of Thor. He really did treasure that weapon, caring for it as if it was as much his child as Shelby was. Even though the crown wasn't something that could be earned, she felt like Thor deserved this. Deserved to be king.

Her smile softened happily as she let her eyes fall on her husband, his own lips curved in a gentle smile as he watched his father speak. Imogen just listened.

"I have defended Asgard and the lives of the innocent across the nine realms, from the time of the great begining." The king spoke slowly and clearly, every word the right combination of powerful and soft. Imogen listened to it gladly. "Though the day has come where I must surrender that burden. To you, my chosen successor."

Imogen sucked in a breath and blinked her eyes furiously. Her eyes were teary - why was she crying? She was happy. She didn't need to shed any tears today.

She blinked away the blurriness in her orbs. She had to save her make up - not to mention her pride! This was a good day, she told herself, reigning in her rampant emotions. Thor was getting what he deserved, all he'd ever wanted.

She pressed her lips together in a firm smile as Odin began the oath to be sworn. He was never one for long speeches.

"Do you swear to guard the Nine Realms?" rung out firmly.

Imogen had to watch his reply; the excited, playful gleam wasn't in Thor's eyes anymore. It was all deadly serious now, ready to take on the solemn responsibility he was born for. "I swear."

"And do you swear to preserve the peace?"

"I swear."

She was so proud of him. As foolish as it sounded, she was so proud of him. Everything that had happened - marrying her, a servant, having a child with her, fending off the court.. and now he was being rewarded.

The court must be seething, Imogen thought with a smug, inward smirk. To see her, glorious in gold, ready to take up power alongside them - hell, above them! They were infuential, but they were not king. They would not be able to touch her again. Thor would be king. They could not hurt him then, or her.

Well, they could...

"Do you swear to cast aside all selfish ambition and to pledge yourself only to the good of the Realms?"

Thor's tone had been growing progressively bolder and stronger and with this vow, he raised his hammer proudly in the air, shouting the words for all the gods to hear: "I swear!"

He was a king, Imogen realised in that moment. He was a king man, and a glorious warrior, but looking at him now, proud and splendid... he was a king. Not a young, reckless prince as when she'd met him. There would be no more groping in corridors, or public arguments. He had grown. Matured. He was ready now.

But was she?

Her blood froze in her chest and she felt her hand twitch to move to her stomach instinctively, as Odin's eyes moved to her. She thought of the microscopic son she had in her belly, and how she had to do this for him.

"And do you, Imogen Aevardottir," The Alfather went on in his powerful voice, unyielding it's proud boom. Her vows were just as important as Thor's. She was being entrusted with great power, the same as him. "Swear to serve and support Thor in all that he does as King from this day forward?"

She gulped before she could help it, eyes flickering to Thor as if for support. She was almost surprised when she found his cool crystal blue eyes actually looking at her; she'd thought he'd stay looking ahead, looking majestic as anything.

But he'd put that on hold for her, for his wife. The smile twitched on her face, and suddenly the worries about those two fateful words just melted away.

She was calm as she swore, not to the kingdom or to Odin - to Thor. "I swear."

She was his wife, and she would stay by his side through Hel-fire and back. She would never leave him. And once she gave him this son, he would be so proud of her. She would have earned her place as Queen, once she gave him a son of his own, ready to one day kneel where his father knelt now.

Imogen couldn't smile. She couldn't. Her lips stayed calm and relaxed, just as Thor's, but their eyes... their eyes blazed together, burning with a connection deeper than any outsider could understand. It was so strong, burning inside Imogen's left breast like wild-fire.

She would do anything for this man. And she just had.

"Then, on this day, I, Odin Allfather, proclaim you, Thor Odinson and Imogen Aevardottir, King and Queen of Asgard."

XXX

Imogen blinked, trying to take in the fact that this wasn't all a dream. It felt surreal, just incredible. Too incredible, surely?

Then she looked around her; at the golden throne that sat and lifted her husband above the Hall of citizens beside her, saw their cheering faces, felt the pressure of Thor's hand around hers and the weight of the thin metal, intricate golden wreath nestled comfortably around her temples...it was real. She was Queen.

The smile blossomed on her face.

XXX

Vaguely she remembered Thor taking up his helmet whilst they were still knelt at the base of the steps, Odin's final words still echoing around the grand hall. Settling the winged headgear back over his golden locks, he took her hand and guided her to rise with him.

She had no idea what she was doing. Her hand clung to his, sweaty and very nervous as he led her up the steps, very aware that her entire right leg was as good as bare for the kingdom to see. What if she tripped? She was consumed with nerves as she and Thor slowly ascended the steps to their new throne.

He moved calm and with purpose, but all Imogen could notice was the loud thump of her heart beating in her chest. She'd been so calm just moments ago...

Now was different. Now, she was Queen.

And she was terrified.

She forced herself to take slow, steady breaths, telling herself the worst was over. All she had to do now was follow Thor. From this day, follow him in everything he did.

She trusted him, and lifted her eyes to his throne. Glisten and golden, waiting for it's new owner to take his place, it shimmered in the sunlight as Thor and Imogen rose to the top of the steps and stood on the same platform as the throne and Odin. The wisened man stepped back graciously to admit his son passage.

Imogen smiled at the former king and her heart skipped a beat when he smiled softly back, light now dancing in his orbs. He could be happy now. It was done. Thor was king, and he was happy for his son.

And her too.

Thor nodded politely to his father as they passed, but Imogen stared ahead at the throne. Once she was there, all she had to do for the rest of the day was stand, smile and look pretty. The pressure would be off. She would have time to just daydream about the days ahead and the son that hopefully grew in her womb that she could include in those plans.

Her heartbeat upped its racing pattern with every step they got closer to the throne. What would this mean for her? Safety. An extra barrier between her and the court. And once her boy arrived, they would leave her alone for good. This was the first step.

Her throat was dry as she blinked and stared at the throne, just a step away. This was it, she thought as Thor drew to a stop beside her, hand gently squeezing hers to urge her to do the same. She stopped instantly.

What now? she asked silently in her head, eyes glancing to Thor for an answer. He wasn't looking at her though; he was looking to the side, to his father.

Her eyes followed his and she watched the Alfather step forward again, this time hands full as he carried forth a delicate cushion, something shimmering on it's top. The small smile was still on his lips. Thor found her other hand and guided her to face him, their sides to the kingdom. She was glad it was the side with the solid coloured skirt facing the world.

Her heart was going crazy. What was happening? Finally, she caught Thor's eye; strong, calm and bold, soothing her panicking heart quickly. It was fine, she told herself. As long as Thor was here, it would be fine. Whatever 'it' was.

Then Odin stood between the kingdom and the couple, and Imogen finally saw what he bore on the delicate cushion: her crown.

Thin and delicate, simply beautiful, the gold metal shimmered, twisting in such a dazzling, but modest pattern. It was stunning. Of all the jewellery in the world, this was the one thing Imogen had never even dreamed of wearing. And now here it was - hers.

Even Thor was smiling as he set his hammer down on his throne seat and with delicate fingers, lifted the Queen's crown from the cushion. Imogen didn't even see Odin move aside, too focused on her husband before her, about to crown her. This was more terrifying than walking, than taking her oath. She tried not to have a heart attack - this moment was solely for her, she realised. Just for her.

Her eyes lifted timidly to Thor, but the moment she glanced the majesty and grace his orbs held, her head bowed instinctively. This was her king. Boy, he looked like a king. He seemed to glow with royal radiance. Her body just reacted, feeling intimidated by the power in front of her, but not in a fearful way; more like awe. Her knees crossed and bent, and she curtsied gracefully before her husband and king. It felt right. She'd never bowed to him before before, but she felt his warmth and strength run over her, comforting her racing heart.

She wanted to serve this man. The same way she'd sworn to on her wedding day and just again at the base of the steps, this man was her life and she would do whatever she could to make him happy.

And firstly, she would give him a son.

She felt her heart beat with love for Thor as she felt his smile widen, glimpsing his hands move out of the corner of her eye.

She kept her head modestly bowed.

The kingdom wanted a soft, modest Queen, and if she could play that part, earn their trust, it would be an extra block to the court's ploys. As powerful as they were, they couldn't act against a figure the entire kingdom loved. Twenty couldn't stand against twenty million.

She let her lips quirk in a smile as she felt the cool metal of the crown slowly descend over the crown of her head, slipping over her locks of hair. Thor settled it gently over her temples.

She had a crown. She really was Queen. She forced her smile to be more modest as Thor's hands cupped her shoulders and guided her upright again, rising as a Queen. She couldn't believe it. She looked up to Thor happily, feeling more like a Queen worthy to stand at his side; he smiled down at her proudly, eyes sparkling with light.

There was no reservation in Imogen's face now. She felt her heart swell and push the fear away, limbs filled with a new found strength as Thor captured her hand softly in his and turned to face the crowd, grasping Mjolnir again as he did.

His fingers gripped hers a fraction harder in warning, a second before he acted; he threw his arms in the air victoriously, and the crowd roared.

Imogen gasped a smile, feeling the movement tug at her shoulder socket, even though Thor hadn't even reached his arm out as fully as he had the one holding Mjolnir. She wished she wasn't so short, so he might enjoy his moment better. Still... she covered it with a beam, facing forward, gazing over the scores of people that now looked to her as Queen. The noise was truly deafening!

She squeezed his hand back and straightened her arm of her own accord, sharing his victory. They had claimed this throne together; they were both rulers. Her heart soared.

This was it, she thought, thinking of the small weight resting on her head. That crown placed her higher on Thor's trust list than the court - not that she hadn't been already. But now it was official, for the whole realm to see it. They couldn't so much as say a bad word to her now. Maybe even a foul look was beyond their reach now.

She was their Queen.

She couldn't hold back her smile as she felt Thor's arm slowly ease up on hers and out of the corner of her eye, she watched him slowly sink into his throne. She took a tiny step back, to stand level with him. His hand never left hers, still raised high in joy, even as he sat, claiming his title.

Imogen stood at his side, proudly, chin held up high and dignified. She was safe now, she thought. With the crown, and the medicine in their chambers, they would be safe. Thor was King and she was Queen, and as soon as she gave him a son, no one would dare have the power to even think badly of her, let alone act.

In less than a year, she and Thor would be untouchable.

XXX

"Congratulations, your Majesty." the Warrior goddess, Sif bowed in front of Imogen, having bowed to her new king already.

Imogen just nodded graciously, as the Warrior rose, smiling kindly. She liked the war goddess; Sif was kind to her, and they shared the same fighting spirit, both strong and independant, not afraid to fight for what they want. Honestly, she thought a part of it was that they were just drawn to each other, few women in this world of controlling men who were willing to stand up for themselves.

She shared a eye-sparling smirk with the Warrior as she stepped aside, to go and rejoin the feasting happening on the main floor.

Her eyes turned to the next person to pay their congratulations - and her heart sank with her smile.

Lord Roanull.

She swore in her head.

The senior courtier sent a smooth smirk her way before he bowed, gathering up her fingers in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. She held her breath as she watched him.

For such a young man, as middle aged as he looked, he was incredibly influential within the court, his wealth buying him as much. Coming from such a powerful, rich family had its advantages. His clean blonde hair was combed neatly, and he was dressed in a rich blue tunic. Lord Roanull wasn't a warrior. A nobleman, not a warrior. Still, it was always he that proved the greatest fund towards the army, warrior or not.

He was the head of the court, and everyone knew it. He made her skin crawl as his lips touched her knuckles.

She pursed her lips, and it was all she could do not to wrench her hand away. This was the man who'd orchestrated her husband to sleep with another woman, who started all the gossip and bad rumours about her. He was the source, of that she had no doubt.

His eyes were glittering as he straghtened up and finally released her hand. "My Queen." he murmured smoothly, eyes sparkling mischievly. As if this was just as game. As if she wasn't his Queen.

She guessed in his heart, she wasn't. She was still just the peasant girl, dressing up in a crown and fancy dress. To him, she had no right to rule over him. But the crown on her head and the ring on her finger said other wise, and the god at her side was there for good measure too.

She refused to let her chin dip even a fraction. This man was her lesser now. She had authority over him. "Lord Roanull." she said stiffly.

She didn't like this man. And he damn well knew it; that was why his eyes were sparkling so, why he was smiling. He was taunting her. Mocking her. Still treating her like an insolent little servant playing dress up, waiting for the prince - no, king - to hand her over to him for punishment one day. He'd be waiting forever, she thought in her head.

"Congratulations on the coronation." he went on. He spoke so warmly, so smoothly. No one would know there was anything wrong between them if it hadn't been for Imogen's cold, wary eyes. "It will be interesting to see more of each other in court."

Imogen just narrowed her eyes. "Interesting is one word for it."

The man was like a snake; Imogen didn't trust him one bit. This was what had been whispering in her husband's ear? He seemed just as slippery as Loki...

Roanull's smirk twitched at the corner and Imogen's skin crawled. She wouldn't trust this man to open a jar let alone advise her husband! She wondered if his wife was just as shrewd and manipulative, if his children bore the same poisonous nature.

She didn't get a chance to ask though as the following noble touched a polite hand to Roanull's shoulder; he was holding up the queue. Good, she thought. Get him out of my sight. But it felt dangerous to let him go. Especially when he roamed his sparkling eyes back to her, laced with something only Imogen could read - a promise. A dark promise. He was going to make her life hell, she could tell.

She pressed her lips tighter together tighter, loathing the man more and more as he curved his lips into an ever polite smile and nodded his head. "My Queen." he murmured again warmly.

Imogen saw through it in a heartbeat; she didn't take her eyes off the bastard even as he stepped away, turning his back on her. Thoughts raced round her head quickly. She'd have to keep her guard up, she thought as the next noble kissed her hand, straightening up with a dull mumble. She couldn't trust these people.

Especially him, she thought, still eyeing the manipulative Lord as he spoke with her parents, her baby in their arms. Thoughts of all the murderous things she would do to him if he so much as touched her little girl...

Once she had her son though, that man would never be a threat to her ever again. She held onto that.

Then something caught her eye from across the Hall, in the open doorway. She froze as she glanced up, heart stopping in her chest. It seemed to move in slow motion. The guards walking across the doorway didn't break pace as they walked, as good as dragging the thin, filthy figure between them. Quite a contrast to the grandeur of the Hall, and the occasion inside.

She shouldn't have been able to see, but she had. She shouldn't have been able to know who it was being carried away, but she did. She shouldn't have been able to feel the hatred in the gaze, so very, very far away...

Elga's glaring eyes, weighed with hate bore into her, even across such a distance. Imogen went numb, barely hearing the 'Your Majesty's or feeling the kisses to her hand. She just saw the bedraggled woman across the Hall.

The lengthy stretch in prison had done Elga no favours. Her thin, bony frame was dressed in dirt ridden rags, her filthy blonde locks lank and greasy around her face. Her cheeks were hollowed, her cheekbones jutting out, eyes sunken... but the venomous look they held was stronger than her physical form. And Imogen was no fool; no matter how weak her body was, Elga's hate would probably fuel realms. She'd done this to the woman. She'd stolen two years of Elga's life, put her through such torture...

Here Imogen was, at the height of her glory. Crown, husband and child. Everything... and Elga was being dragged to see her first sunshine in two years.

Her limbs barely had the strength to hold her upright, the guards dragging her more than anything.

It was a second. Just a second.

But a second was enough.

Imogen felt her blood run cold, feel it flee her face. The more she hovered on those orbs, swirling with hate, the more fear pooled in her belly, clawing at her. Why did she feel like this? Why did she feel like something bad was about to happen? She felt sick...

"Imogen." Thor's hand touched gently at her elbow and she glanced down instinctively to her husband at the nudge, tearing it from the doorway. His soft blue eyes frowned lightly. "Is everything alright?"

Her mouth opened to answer, heart racing, mind spinning...then she glanced to the doorway and found it empty, as if the prisoner had never even been there at all. As if it had all been a dark fantasy. But she had. Elga's dark, condemning eyes, thick with a promise of malice hung in her mind warningly, and she couldn't shake the chill that gripped her spine.

Was everything alright? The horror that clawed in her gut, the unexplainable dread...

She couldn't give her husband an honest answer.

NOTE

Please review!