Amara Freyadottir, the heir to the throne of Vanaheim, has never been one for royal trivialities. She would much rather spend her days exploring the lands of Vanaheim and Asgard, finding places to read, and having fun with her best friend, Loki. How...
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"freya's eyes land anywhere but her daughter as she stands, frozen, the gears in her mind turning wildly."
AMARA IS STANDING ON THE STREETS of some Midgardian city, where the buildings point to the sky and the roads are clogged with cars. She is staring up into the sky that is filled with soaring spaceships that are shooting anything and everything they come into contact with. The streets are swarmed with ugly, alien creatures - Chitauri, she thinks.
Citizens of the city are scrambling everywhere, filled with panic as they try to reach safety. She watches, her eyes filled with horror, as several explode into a red mist as the bullets from the alien weaponry strike them down. Their existence is simply erased, their entire being reduced to mere particles in less than a second.
The scene then shifts, and she is now standing at the edge of a helicopter pad that extends from one of the enormously tall buildings. Around twenty feet from her, two men are fighting - one blonde, the other raven-haired. As Amara's eyes adjust to the ever-fading scenery, she realizes the identity of the two men; her heart pitfalls into her stomach.
She has seen Thor and Loki spar and train together before, but never once has she seen them fight like this. Each attack from either brother seems to be with an intent to greatly harm or even kill the other. There is no mercy, no lightheartedness - not even a familial recognition, Amara thinks.
The scene then shifts once again, Amara once again standing among the streets of chaos. She distinctly picks out two people fighting, but this time it is not Thor and Loki.
It is Loki and herself.
Her eyes go wide with horror as she watches the scene. The Amara before her is injured greatly and can barely stand - she appears weakened in some way. The Loki, however, has strength via his rage, mercilessly attacking Amara as she simply tries to remain upright. Although, something is different about Loki, too. He seems older, more tired, as if the future did not treat him with any ounce of kindness at all.
The fight continues until Loki slams Amara to the floor, immediately straddling her and wrapping his hands around her throat. His eyes are frenzied, nearly insane, as he strangles her. Her eyes, on the other hand, are full of plea as she silently begs for her life, begs to be spared.
Loki does not care, and he continues to strangle her until her eyes roll back and her head lolls to one side.
* * * *
SHE JOLTS UP INTO A SEATED POSITION ON HER BED, hands clasping her chest as she takes labored, panic breaths. The images from the dream frantically flash in her mind, filling her body with utter panic.
