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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"he stays tucked away safely in the corner and begins to listen, concentrating solely on that act."
WHEN LOKI DOES NOT HEAR FROM AMARA for one day, he thinks nothing of it. When he does not hear from her after three days, he begins to get slightly concerned. After a week, he is nearly frantic.
He has sent half a dozen letters to her over the past week, none of which she has responded to. In all their years of friendship, she has always told him if there would be a reason why she would not be able to be reached by letters. To go a week without hearing from her when she did not give prior notice is a bad sign in Loki's eyes. A very bad sign.
When there is still no word from her on the morning of the eighth day, he begins striding throughout the castle, thoughts running wild with worry. He must tell someone, anyone, for something is definitely amiss with the heir to the throne of Vanaheim.
He enters the throne room and, to his unusual luck, Freya is entering from the outside entrance at the same time. He breathes a sigh of relief and rushes over, ignoring the fact that they are in the middle of the formal greeting.
"Queen Freya, I am sorry to interrupt, but I have not heard from Amara in a week now. Is something wrong? Did something happen?"
Freya's eyes grow just the slightest bit wider as she adamantly shakes her head. "No, Loki dear, Amara is just fine," she reassures with a quick smile. "I'm afraid I've just been working her a bit much, that's all. I've been absent from Vanaheim so much that I have needed her to take up many of my duties at home. If you would like to send a letter with me, I'll be sure that she receives it."
Loki simply gazes at the queen for a moment, his eyes narrowed slightly. It's obvious that she is lying, but why?
"Loki, please, you may give Freya your letter later, but as of now, the adults must have a meeting. Come along, ladies."
Freya gives Loki an apologetic look as she follows Odin and Frigga out of the throne room. Loki remains standing there, thinking. What reason would Freya have to lie to him about why Amara hasn't answered his letters? Is she somehow keeping Amara from seeing them, from having any contact with Loki? Is it something he's done, perhaps?
He gnaws on the tip of his lip with his front teeth in frustration. Whatever the reason is, he must find out.
* * * *
IT WAS NOT DIFFICULT to steal his father's vanishing cloak. Over the years, he has been able to steal quite a few things from Odin without him noticing, although never something this valuable or well-protected. He is quite proud of himself, if he is being honest.
He makes his way to the meeting room in silence, keeping the cloak securely tucked around himself and ensuring it covers all of his body. As long as he stays far enough away that Freya cannot spot him, he should have no issues. She is the only one of the three who can see through the vanishing cloak's magic.
He is practically tiptoeing as he approaches the meeting room, stopping at one of the open windows that leads into the corridor. He has no idea why they would install windows in a room that is meant for confidential meetings, but today they are surely doing him a favor.
He stays tucked away safely in the corner and begins to listen, concentrating solely on that act. The voices are hushed and soft, but he can make them out nonetheless.
"So, your daughter is still secured, Freya?"
"Yes. She has been in the Illusionary Cell for about a week now. I am at a loss about what to do. I refuse to keep her in there any longer than is necessary, Odin."
"And I am aware of that, Freya, but you know as well as I do that as of now, it is still necessary. The Frost Giants have been quiet, which means they are certainly readying themselves for a war, not just another battle."
"There must be another way, she-"
"There is no other way!"
The sudden shout from Odin startles Loki, causing him to jolt. His hands are trembling with the anticipation of what else he may learn.
"You know that she must be kept safe at all costs, Freya. The prophecy states it clearly... She is his only hope."
"And since when have you had any hope for him?" Frigga speaks now, her voice stern. "At our last meeting, was it not you who suggested turning him in to the Jotuns?"
"Well, yes, but that was before Freya's daughter had her dream, showing the destruction he will cause if that happens... No, surrender is not an option, not if we wish to spare Midgard." Odin lets out a heavy sigh, one that is audible even from Loki's position. "We must figure out another way."
"There will be no peace until the Frost Giants receive their heir, Odin. This you know."
"Then there shall be no peace." A chair scrapes against the floor as Frigga stands abruptly. Her footsteps echo as she leaves the meeting room. "For we are not giving him up."
Loki watches with a knitted brow as his mother enters the corridor, walking in his direction. He tenses as she passes, knowing that his mother has a deep connection with all things magic, but soon relaxes as she continues to walk away.
His mind is too frantic to continue to focus on the conversation inside the meeting room, so he quietly begins making his way away from the area. Once far enough, he snatches the vanishing cloak off of himself and leans against the wall, finding it a bit hard to get a good breath.
Everyone was talking as if Amara was a part of the prophecy of the stolen son. He remembers the words of it clearly, as he had reread it so many times when he and Amara were trying to decipher it.
Alas, there is hope A Vanir woman, ethereal in beauty To become the son's saving grace
"His saving grace..." he mutters to himself under his breath.
If Amara is the Vanir woman in the prophecy, who else could be the son except for himself?
He gasps as the thought crosses him, his mind beginning to run away from him. Everything would make so much sense, even more so now considering what was said at the meeting. It is the most sensible thing in all the world for him to be the stolen son.
He closes his eyes tight, his hands bunching into fists. Despite how hard it is, he pushes all of the frantic thoughts and energy from his mind and refocuses. There is no time to dwell on himself now, not while Amara has been left to rot in a cell for a week.
So, regardless of the fact that he feels like he is about to break down right then and there, he pushes himself away from the wall and heads off to find Amara.
