The Raven

New Beginnings - One

Asgard,
Many, Many years ago.

The days first ray of light shines brightly in through the palace window of Loki's room. Illuminating his desk in a golden hue as he carefully re-ties the emerald colored ribbon around the sleek black box for a third time. His heart beating rapidly as he pulls the two loops tight.

Perfect.

It has to be perfect.

He's held on to the custom snake bracelet — having the snakes tail curved into an S — For weeks now. Making it the first successful secret he's ever been able to keep from his best friend. A snake might be his symbol where as hers is a swan. But he wishes to see her hold a piece of him close even when they are not together.

It's Svana's thirteenth birthday today, and he is determined to be the first to give her a gift this year. The perfect gift.

A smile graces Loki's lips as he proudly lifts the palm sized box up, examining it one last time before rising from his velvet bound seat. Excitement fuels his quick paced steps as he moves into the hall. Navigating the palace he calls home with ease. The day just beginning, and the halls are still. Just as he expected them to be.

The only other asgardians who should be awake right now, Are those whose job it is to prepare tonight's festivities. A feast in Svana's honor, of course. The way they celebrate all of their birthdays.

Taking the last left turn, Loki's brows twist together — his footsteps slow at the sight of Svana's bedroom door being cracked open.

The sound of muffled sobs make their way to his ears, and the hairs on the back of his neck stand tall as he carefully moves toward the door.

Her parents. Or more specifically, Her father. That must be what has Svana crying before the sun has even claimed it's place in the morning sky. Her birthday is always difficult. Though this will mark the 8th birthday she has spent living as member of their family, Loki would've been shocked if she didn't mention how much her fathers absence pained her.

She was too young to remember much about her mother, But five years with her father was enough to leave scattered memories for her to tend with. Being a child himself when they met, he never knew what to say when he'd find her wracked with tears and mourning a person he himself didn't know.

In the beginning, he would run to find Frigga, and sit as his mother held the girl. Later, when he was a little bit older he would fetch her something in effort to boost her spirits. A treat from the kitchen, A plush from his own collection. Now however, he knows that Svana prefers to not cry alone. So as he opens her door now, he is prepared to sit, and listen, and hold her the way he has since they were no more than few feet tall.

Be here. That's all she has ever asked of him.

But as he pushes her bedroom door open, whispering her name softly to alert her of his presence, His body goes rigid at the sight of his mother sitting on the edge of Svana's four poster bed. Her eyes swollen, red from what must be hours of... crying. He's never seen her so distraught.

His panicked gaze darts around the room for sign of Svana, but it's only his mother in the opened space. Her mouth opens, her hand quickly covering it as no words come. Her sobs shaking him to his very core.

"Where is she?" He asks, his voice sounding foreign. The room is spinning, like the very ground has become slanted beneath his feet. He continues to peer his head in every possible angle and as Frigga reaches for him, Loki jolts backward to evade her shaking hand. "Mother where is Svana?"