A/N: Don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'If I Knew' by Bruno Mars

Lyrics in the middle are from 'One Last Song' by Sam Smith

If I Knew

Part Two

Chapter Fifteen

I was a city boy
Right into danger's where I'd always run, a boy who had his fun
But I wouldn't've done
All the things that I have done
If I knew one day you'd come

Why was she still here?

Eira stared at her reflection. Why was she still here? Queen Frigga was gone, he was gone. Neither of them would ever be coming back. Why was she still at this godforsaken court, dancing with fools and exchanging barbed words with pretty vipers. Is this what she wanted? She leaned towards her looking glass, studying her reflection critically. She was still beautiful. She would have expected the grief that had hardened her heart to show, but her face was still flawless as it peered back at her questioningly.

What else was there? She could go home. She watched her reflection's mouth twist at the very idea. Go home and wait to be married off. Maybe she should have married Lord Moncliere after all, at least she would have gained some entertainment toying with him. Instead here she remained, a ladies maid with no Lady to attend to. She spent her endless boring days drifting around court, dancing with handsy Lords and deflecting the daggers of petty Ladies.

"Lady Eira."

She stifled the urge to roll her eyes as Lord Colay pounced on her the second she entered the Hall. He had been sniffing around her for weeks now, getting more and more aggressive with his hints. She had been using her talented wiles to keep him at bay but she was rapidly losing patience.

"Lady Eira."

They both froze. The authoritative voice cutting through the vain chatter sharply. She turned warily, dipping into a pretty curtsy as the crowd parted for King Odin.

"Your Majesty."

Odin eyed her in silence for a long moment as Lord Colay reluctantly melted into the crowd behind her.

"My wife spoke often of your pretty voice, My Lady."

Eira cocked her head in confusion, but did not comment, forcing a smile to her face. It felt more like a mask than ever, stiff and unnatural.

"Her Grace was very kind to me." Eira murmured, her gaze sliding away from Odin's uncomfortably.

"Perhaps a song."

Eira flinched, stepping back from him in surprise. No. She couldn't sing. Not for him, not for his crowd of preening sheep. Not this soon, with the prince's lips still burning on hers.

"Apologies, Your Grace… I do not feel very well." She ducked her head deferentially. "I do not feel I would be able to do you justice-"

Odin smirked down at her in silence for a very long minute. Then he laughed.

"A song, Lady Eira."

She could not refuse. That was clear from the circling vultures eyeing the exchange with rabid interest. She dipped again into a curtsy, this one slightly less deferential, and followed the King back to his throne. She stepped daintily up onto the raised dais, standing slightly to the side of the huge ugly throne.

"Your preference, Your Grace?"

Odin shrugged one shoulder elegantly, momentarily looking so much like his son that Eira struggled not to flinch. Never show your weakness. She straightened her spine, squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.

"Anything you like." Odin waved a careless hand without looking at her.

She pondered quietly for a moment, searching her mind for something she had the heart to sing for the vultures.

"Maybe one day
I won't sing about you
I'll sing a song about someone new
But right here, right now
You are on my mind
And I think about you all the time
I'm sending a message to you
And I'm hoping that it will get through
When it was good, it was bittersweet honey
You made me sad 'til I loved the shade of blue
I know you don't want to talk to me
So this is what I will do
Maybe you're listening
So here's one last song for you
Here's one last song for you
And I hope it makes you feel
And I hope it makes you burn
And I hope it reminds you of how much it hurt
I'm sending a message to you
And I'm hoping that it will get through
When it was good it was bittersweet honey
You made me sad 'til I loved the shade of blue
I know you don't want to talk to me
So this is what I will do
Maybe you're listening
So here's one last song for you."

Odin's face was nothing but amused as her voice echoed around the grand hall. Eira forced herself not to fidget, as a prickle of murmurs trickled through the room. Eventually the chatter resumed and she tried to slide away from the throne.

"Very good, little nightingale."

Eira whirled around to face the throne, her stomach roiling painfully.

"What did you say?"

Odin lifted an eyebrow coolly and she felt heat flush up her neck, hurriedly lowering her eyes from his. Odin was known for his temper, speaking to him so disrespectfully in front of half the court was a dangerous mistake. When she felt brave enough to lift her gaze again, he was still peering at her with an amused smirk on his face.

Eira rolled over again, scrunching her silken sheets up around her irritably. She could not sleep. She had tossed and turned for hours to no avail. Pushing her sheets away from her, she threw herself up into a sitting position. Her stomach had been churning for hours, ever since she had sung for the King. She had escaped the hall and fled to her chambers, her heart pounding with every step. Why had he called her that? Had he been mocking her? Had Frigga told him of her trips to the dungeons? She shook her head to herself in the darkness of her chamber. No. The Queen would not risk her husband putting a stop to the visits. Perhaps she had kept a journal of some sort? Again she dismissed the idea. Frigga had been a Queen with a kingdom to protect, she would hardly have been foolish enough to trust her secrets to a journal anyone could get their hands on.

Eira slid from her bed, her bare feet relishing the cool marble after the heat from her bed. She grabbed a lilac coloured robe and tugged it over her thin lace night-shift. She could not settle with her thoughts running rampant around her head. Her body needed to move as she sorted through her errant thoughts. She let her feet guide her as her brain whirled.

It could have simply been a coincidence. It was not a common nickname but hardly a unique and rare word. Possibly he had not known what the name meant to her. She felt a flush in her cheeks as she remembered the look in his eye, the almost familiar tilt to his body on the throne. She shook her head fiercely. No. It was not possible. She was losing her mind, Court had finally driven her to madness.

She would leave. She shivered at the thought, wondering how she could possibly return to her father's estates and her step mother's nonsense after tasting the freedom at Court. Yes, she would leave. There was nothing here for her now. She sighed heavily. She would return home, marry a rich fool and spend the rest of her days toying with people as she pleased. A life she had wanted to avoid, but better than wasting away here.

Feeling somewhat settled now she had a plan in mind, she glanced around to get her bearings. Her feet had taken her towards the dungeon. She was still a corridor away from the entrance, luckily, but her chest twitched at the proximity. She glanced out of the huge arched windows, the sky was pink as the sun began to rise and she hurriedly returned to her rooms.

She practised what she would say to the King as she dressed herself, absentmindedly dragging on a powder-blue gown edged in glimmering golden thread. She knew she could not leave Court without Odin's permission, yet as much as she had been a favourite of his wife, she had rarely interacted with him before Frigga's death so she saw no reason why he would refuse her request.

Eira continued to repeat this uneasily in her mind as she went through the motions of breaking her fast with the other women of the court, waiting for an opportunity to approach him. As if he could sense her urgency to catch him, Odin seemed to vanish whenever she managed to glimpse him. Eira pretended to gossip with the vultures, picked absently at her lunch and delicately dodged Lord Colay's determined advances as she waited.

Finally, she had had just about enough. She politely excused herself from Lord Dansan, who had been edging his hand closer to her thigh with every minute of conversation he subjected her to, and barged across the hall towards the King. She nodded and smiled and fluttered her eyelashes as she made her way towards him, hoping to avoid causing a scandal by barreling through the crowd like a cannon.

"Lady Eira."

King Odin looked amused once again and she swallowed against her suddenly dry throat.

"Your Majesty." She dipped into a curtsy, her dress sparkling prettily around her in the torchlight.

"Have you come to sing for me again, nightingale?"

This time, she was almost prepared for it and she managed to keep her expression blank. The tiny dart of pain in her chest only strengthened her resolve.

"Alas, I come to you with a request, Your Grace." She replied sweetly. "I wish to return home."

Odin tilted his head slightly although his expression never wavered.

"You wish to depart?"

Eira nodded her head warily. He sounded suspicious, or offended, and she was not sure how to proceed.

"Approach, Lady Eira."

Eira blinked at him. He lifted a hand and gestured her closer. Steeling her spine, she mounted the dais, ensuring she stood to the side so her face and hands were clearly visible to the Court fluttering nosily behind her.

"What awaits you at home?" Odin murmured and Eira stared at him. "A husband, perhaps?"

She stared at him in amazement.

"No, Your Grace." She managed to get out, her heart beating wildly in her chest. "My father would request your permission before a match is made."

Odin smiled unpleasantly and she shivered uneasily.

"That is true."

He gestured again and her eyes darted to the eagerly watching crowd of courtiers circling behind her. Reluctantly, she took a step closer.

"You do not have my permission to depart, Lady Eira." He announced clearly, loud enough for the vultures to hear. "You have not fulfilled your part of our bargain yet, nightingale."

Eira felt the hairs on her arms prickle, ice dripping down her spine. Her skin felt too tight for her body all of a sudden, and she couldn't quite catch her breath. He had lowered his voice enough that his final words were indistinguishable to their audience, but every one of them had thundered in her ears. In a split second he was on his feet beside her, murmuring into her ear.

"I will have my one thousand and one songs, little Scheherazade."

Eira couldn't help herself, a gasp escaped her and she stumbled back a step. It was only due to her strength of will that she managed to keep her face calm and her hands steady as she stepped away from him in full view of the Court.

"You." She managed to get out, feeling her heart beating much too fast in her chest.

He gave her a smug little smirk that very nearly snapped her control.

"Sweet little nightingale. How I have missed our visits." He cooed with a laugh.

Eira turned away from him. She couldn't look at him. Somehow she fumbled through a curtsy and leaped from the dais, fleeing the hall as fast as she could.