Eyra sat and stared sullenly into the mirror as her handmaiden fussed over her hair. Her mother, Brenna, stood by, watching in frustration. After several moments of tense silence, she finally let out a sigh and sat down next to her daughter.
"Eyra..." she began.
"Don't let him hear you call me that," Eyra interjected hollowly. Brenna gave her a disparaging look, but corrected herself.
"Astrid..." Eyra's frown sunk even deeper at the name. "This is good! Every maiden in Asgard wishes to be in your position!"
"Then let one of them take my place!"
"You know your father will not allow that to happen."
"He is not my father." Eyra replied softly, tears filling her eyes as she recalled how it had come to this.
Eyra skipped home, a smile gracing her face as she pulled the boy's cloak more tightly around her. She had been upset at first that he had been there, but it wasn't long before she found herself rather entranced by his presence. Not once had he mentioned her appearance, instead choosing to compliment her on her singing and dancing. He had been a perfect gentleman, and his light, carefree nature had reminded her greatly of her father. Butterflies once again took flight in her stomach as she remembered how those sparkling emerald eyes had studied her, as though he could see past her appearance into the kindness and passion that lay within her heart. Eyra's heart raced at the thought of meeting this strange boy again the next day. Then she would find out his name.
After carefully concealing the cloak so as to avoid her family's questions, she walked into the house. Eyra was startled to see that they had several visitors. Her mother quickly ushered her inside and into the presence of a man she did not recognize. He stood with perfect posture and looked over her appraisingly. Shooting her mother a confused look, Eyra gave her best attempt at a curtsy in her soaking gown.
"Inghard," Brenna addressed the man. "This is Eyra, my daughter. Eyra, I'd like you to meet Lord Inghard, a nobleman in the Allfather's halls and your future stepfather."
Eyra felt as though a dagger had twisted in her heart. "My...my what?" she gasped.
"Stepfather," Inghard responded. "It is good to meet you, child. But Vanir, why are you all wet?"
Eyra fought to compose herself and answered clearly. "I was out walking by the river. I slipped on a rock. Sir."
The man tsked. "Well, that won't do, will it? It isn't suitable for a young maiden such as yourself to be out wandering on her own. You should be inside. But, not to worry. On the morrow, you will all be moved to the city. There, I will provide you with the best teachers. You will be schooled in the arts of cooking, stitching and etiquette." Before Eyra could speak a word of protest, Inghard had waved to his escort. "Come, we must be off! We have a big day ahead of us!" He smiled at Brenna and lifted her hand to his lips for a moment before leading the way out to their horses. Eyra and her brothers slowly turned to look at their mother.
"Mother?" Asmund questioned.
Brenna looked at them and sighed. "I don't expect you to understand yet. But this is going to be for the better. We will have someone to support us, and he is going to provide each of you with lessons so that you may be successful. Aside from that, as selfish as this sounds, I need someone to take care of me. Ever since...your father passed away...I've been lonely, and I worry every day over the welfare of my children. This is going to fix all of that!"
Eyra could not find it within herself to speak. To her this was the ultimate betrayal. This man was not her father, nor would he ever be. He was nothing like her father was. She had no idea at the time how true that statement really was.
Since that night, Eyra had not once been allowed back to visit her little grove. It didn't take her long to realize that any attempts to sneak out were futile. She had never again seen the Laughing Boy, as she had taken to calling him, and her time spent away from those memories with her father was taking its toll on her. However, she still did not lose sight of the things her father saw in her, and she strove to continue to be kind, strong, and good. It was that determination that allowed her to believe that Inghard really was doing what he thought was best for all of them. Even so, how she wished things could be different.
Eyra felt more a prisoner than a daughter. Never was she allowed outside of the walls of their home. All of her time, once filled with singing and laughter and joy, was now spent in lessons. She was corrected on nearly everything, since apparently she was the furthest thing from 'a lady of Asgard' that her instructors had ever seen. Inghard even insisted that she be referred to from then on as Astrid, since Eyra was not regal enough for one in such good standing with the Allfather. That never made sense to her, considering she'd never even met the Allfather, and they kept her away from anyone outside the household anyway.
Still, for many years, she found it within herself to be happy. She thought of happier times, and those memories never failed to bring a smile to her face. Often, in the quiet hours of the night, she would sing quietly the songs which she had been taught by her father. Sometimes, she would take out the Laughing Boy's cloak and wrap herself in it, thinking of where he was and hoping he had found more joy than she. And she always found peace in the thought that she had never broken the final promise she had made to her father.
But that comfort too was doomed to be shattered.
Muffled voices could be heard through the walls as Eyra and her mother were embroidering in the sitting room. They glanced at one another but said nothing, assuming their questions would be answered soon enough. Their assumptions were proven correct as Inghard suddenly made a grand entrance into the room.
"My darling Brenna, and lovely Astrid!" He was positively beaming. "I bring most excellent tidings."
Both women stood gracefully out of respect. "Pray, tell." Brenna smiled at him.
"Astrid, I have arranged for the most advantageous marriage for you! To Prince Thor!"
Eyra felt all the air leave her lungs in a sudden 'whoosh.' She stared up at her stepfather, mouth moving up and down in shock and horror, but no words finding their way out. Inghard, however, mistakenly interpreted her reaction as one of an overwhelming joy and gratitude.
"There is no need to thank me, my dear. I would do anything for my dearest daughter. Now, you are scheduled to meet the prince in two days time. That will give us just enough time to find you a gown. Ella will get you all ready; she is very aware of all the latest styles. Now, I will give you two women a while to gather your excitement. I must tend to other things!"
As soon as he left, Eyra collapsed into her chair, nearly hyperventilating as her mother cried out of happiness, chatting away.
Eyra was suddenly jolted back to the present by her mother placing a hand over her own.
"Astrid," she began softly. "Why is it that you are so against this marriage?"
Eyra sniffed, struggling to compose herself. "I do not love him, Mother."
"Not yet! But, I am sure that it won't take long for you to develop those feelings. After all, you have not even met him yet! And I have heard he is as charming as they come! You aren't marrying him yet. Simply moving to the palace. You'll have time to fall in love before the wedding."
"But what if I don't?" Eyra whispered sadly.
"Then, I truly believe, you of all people will find some way to be happy. And, anyway, it isn't as though you have ever met anyone who has caught your fancy!" Eyra stayed silent at that, and Brenna sighed. "Just think of this: Even should this marriage turn out to be horrible, Queen Frigga is a master of magic. Perhaps she would train you in your abilities."
That thought did bring a small smile to Eyra's face. Ever since her magical gifts had been discovered, they had kept them a secret from all until she could, one day, receive some training. As Ella finished curling her hair and pulling it up atop her head, Eyra squared her shoulders. "Alright," she breathed to herself. "Let's hope for the best."
It was only a short carriage ride to the palace, which was good, as it did not provide Eyra much time to fret over what was to come. The carriage came to a stop, and Inghard opened the door, helping her as she stepped out. Standing before her were four people. Eyra had no time to inspect them all, however, as her stepfather gave her a grand introduction.
"My lords and lady, may I present to you my daughter, Lady Astrid." Eyra hastily sank into a curtsy, keeping her eyes to the ground meekly. The Allfather gave her permission to rise.
"Welcome, child," he greeted her. "We are delighted to have you with us and to be adding you to our family. May I introduce my wife, Queen Frigga."
Eyra looked at the woman and smiled. She was beautiful and looked on the girl with kindness as she approached her. "Hello, Dear. It is such a delight to meet you. But, I am sure that you most care about meeting your future husband." Eyra flushed as the queen guided her toward a largely built man with blonde hair and a handsomely scruffy face. She had to admit to herself that he was good-looking, though that was far from what it would take for her to love someone.
Thor bowed respectfully and placed a delicate kiss to her knuckles, looking up at her through his eyelashes. "My lady."
"Your Highness," Eyra breathed, and Thor let out a low chuckle.
"There is no need for such formalities. We are to be wed, are we not?" He smiled at her. "Oh please, let me introduce you to my brother, Loki." He gestured toward the man to his left, and Eyra looked up, breath catching in her throat at what she saw.
The person in front of her looked cool and collected, yet calculating. His slick black hair contrasted drastically with his pale skin. He was, in a word, beautiful. But it was not that which had Eyra in such awe. She would know those eyes anywhere. The Laughing Boy stood in front of her, though he looked much more careworn than she remembered him. Still, there was no doubt that it was him. He, however, gave no sign that he recognized her. He simply gave a slight bow.
"My Lady." His voice was soft and flowed like silk. Eyra fought to keep her composure as she gave a low curtsy.
"My Prince." She whispered in return before Thor gently led her away to show her the gardens. But Eyra could have sworn she felt Loki's eyes following her discreetly as they walked away.
Loki stood impatiently with his family as they waited for Thor's new betrothed to arrive. 'Some spoiled, giggling little rich brat, no doubt.' He mused to himself as the carriage pulled up. He had been reading a splendid book before he had been dragged away to greet the girl, Astrid, or something like that, and the only thought on his mind was getting back to that.
That changed in an instant, however, when he laid eyes on the young woman being helped out of the carriage. Loki heard none of the introductions as his heart began to hammer in his chest. It could not be. And yet, he was almost certain that it was. It had been nearly a decade since he had seen her, but he thought of her every day. She was as beautiful as he remembered her, though there was a new sadness in her eyes that had not been there before. Anger quickly replaced his shock as he remembered how she had blown him off after their first meeting. Putting on a neutral expression, he tried his best to look completely uninterested as Thor introduced them. He could not, however, keep his gaze from her as she and Thor retreated to the gardens.
A/N: Soooo I included a little bit of Loki's POV in there, but that probably won't be happening all that often, unless I decide that I like it. Let me know what you think! Remember! Reviews keep me motivated! ;)