Chapter is somewhat disturbing. You have been warned.

"Supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting." –Sun Tzu

Present day

For the first time since her visit with her husband not quite a month ago, Itriel walked through the marble halls of Odin's palace. She was flanked on each side by a guard. She walked quickly and purposefully, boots hitting the smooth stone floors with a clack that echoed off the high ceilings and throughout the hall. Guards and maids looked at her and whispered. Why is she here? Is she not embarrassed? Is she not ashamed on account of her husband?

But Itriel hardly took notice. She had tasted enough shame and misfortune throughout her life. She had much more important things to pay attention to today anyway.

"Audience with the king," she barked at the guards who stood on each side of the enormous oaken doors leading into Odin's throne room. "Stay here," she said to her own guards much more politely. Each bowed slightly and stood next to Odin's guards by the doors. She liked them. She had chosen them for a reason, of course. And they were her friends—there is so much more success in treating one's allies well rather than acting too superior, too distant. Or that was her philosophy.

She halted abruptly in front of Odin, who, instead of sitting on his throne, was pacing in front of it. "My King," she said, bowing slightly. She noticed he looked much older, and perhaps ill. The lines in his face had deepened. His hair was growing ever the more white, and his skin looked sallow. "Why have I been called here?" she asked innocently. She had a pretty good idea; there were only two reasons why he would have summoned her.

Odin finally sat. "I am guessing that you have an idea." He paused. He said only one word next: "Amora."

Ahh. So Frigga never broke. She never told her husband I visited Loki. How I love that woman, she thought to herself. But somebody did let it slip that she had been spying on Amora. But it didn't matter. Itriel always prepared for the worst that could happen. That was a skill that Loki lacked. He only ever prepared for what he wanted to happen. So much genius, such little self-control.

"What would I want with her?" she asked with no added emotion. She was neither going to play coy nor be sarcastic. She wanted to shock him.

Odin rose and started pacing again. He didn't know how to answer. "Revenge, perhaps. I suppose you have a good reason."

"I wanted revenge at first. But I've realized, she's only a pawn. She was paid to do what she did. Wasn't she the daughter of a stable boy? All she wanted to do was advance, and I can't blame her entirely." She paused, meeting Odin's eyes. She had become able to influence others' emotions so imperceptibly that even Odin would not notice that his suspicion of her motives was waning. Empathy slowly blossomed in its place. "If anything, King, I would want revenge on you."

He raised his eyebrows but did not look shocked. With his change in emotion, he didn't feel threatened by her statement; she was just being candid. The princess had more to say, and so he listened.

"But… you did what was truly in my best interests. I wouldn't have wanted to give birth to a monster… another thing. I had the chance to do that so many years ago… and I didn't take that chance." The fact that she was telling Odin this—even though he already knew—made him all the more sympathetic. Tears welled in her eyes, but they were real. "All I want from her is that she reverse this curse."

"Mm. Why did you go behind my back, then? Why did you not speak to me of this before you decided to try to contact her?" The king was not yet truly convinced.

"I shouldn't have. I was afraid. Afraid you would stop me from doing this. I truly apologize." Itriel held the king's gaze. "But this is for my happiness. Please. Annul my marriage to Loki. If somehow he escapes from that cell, I will not want to be with him again. I can swear on my life to that. He has done too much damage. I have had enough shame and unhappiness in my life. You know that I am a practical woman. Allow me to get Amora to reverse this curse."

Odin at least admired her forwardness. Itriel was unlike most women. She didn't cry or beg at his feet; she never expected anyone to know what she wanted to say. "After hundreds of years of marriage, you have fallen out of love so quickly?"

"I will always have love for him. But I know that I cannot and should not ever be with him. And though I love him, I don't want to be with him."

Very well. She is sincere enough. As long as I can keep track of her—and I will—nothing could possibly happen from this, Odin mused. He had noticed that she had, indeed, starting taking attention to other men in her father's court in Vanaheim, and her attentions truly seemed authentic. She had always been a faithful wife to Loki; if she were still faithful, she would not be courting other men. "I will agree to annul your marriage. I will not forbid you from contacting Amora. See what you can do."

She bowed. "I cannot thank you enough."

Itriel had immediately travelled back through the Bifrost to her father's palace in Vanaheim. She lay on the bed in her old room, the room she had when she was a child, unable to sleep until well into the night. If she slept she would dream. From the day's events, the dreams would not be good.

She had been successful. She was able to sway Odin. And not everything she said had been a lie, either; she didn't want to kill Amora anymore—that was said to Olek in anger, and she did want the curse reversed.

But breaking the curse that had been put on her would not erase the past.

She hated that she had called her own child a monster. No child born out of love could be a monster, whatever its race. Odin had hired Amora to kill the baby in her womb. After all, he couldn't let Loki know of his true heritage, apparently.

Odin had blamed the child's death on what Itriel had done in the past. For that had hated herself for so long. The trauma to your womb, Amora had said, has made you unable to carry a child to term. It was a fair statement. Truly believable. The crude backwoods abortion that had been carried out with a sharpened stick and some poison had nearly killed her. If she thought about it, it was not only possible, but probable, that it had damaged her in some way. But it had been the only option at the time. For the time being, she could not have thought about any possible consequences. It would have been impractical. She was focused only on staying alive, not being captured, getting it out of her.

Itriel knew that when Odin had told Loki that he meant to tell him eventually that he was lying. Odin had given up on peace with the Jotuns long ago. And though he may have, in some way, loved Loki, but he had never really liked him. Deep in Odin's mind, he had one base, fatherly, animalistic instinct: Loki was competition for his own son, no matter how much he had insisted the opposite. As Loki grew older, Odin grew ever the more suspicious of him. He wasn't one of them. He wasn't of Asgard and he wasn't Odin's own son. Every small unusual thing that Loki did was a source of distrust (and perhaps, with Odin's different treatment of him, Loki became ever the more defiant and "untrustworthy"). His suspicion of Loki permeated into the minds of others at court, and Loki became distrusted by everyone.

Itriel rose from her bed and poured a large glass of strong wine. She brought it to her bedside cabinet, where she took out a vial of some unknown liquid given to her by her cousin, who just called it "sleep aid". Probably not wise to mix alcohol and whatever this was, but Itriel felt a little reckless. She was so anxious that her chest hurt and she thought she might vomit.

Odin was an idiot if he didn't think she would get her revenge. And Itriel was more than confident that Amora would yield to the highest bidder.