𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐄 ━ loki laufeyson¹·¹

4│YOUR HEART IS MY LIGHT

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❛ ᴇᴛᴏɪʟᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ɪs
ᴍʏ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ꒱


❝ YOU CALLED ME SISTER ❞

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A S G A R D

Silvery light flared out from Eleanora's hand and snaked through the air towards the target. It slashed through the center, leaving a scorch mark behind. She pulled back on the whip to bring it towards her again as she spun in place, causing the light to wreath around her. Straightening out her stance, she lashed it forward one more time to hit the last target in the row. Then, letting out a deep breath, she closed her eyes and released her hold on the light, letting the celestial shine around her head fade from existence as it sank back beneath her skin.

Turning to look at her mentor, she found Frigga beaming at her from the sidelines and the sorceress clapped her hands proudly. "Your footwork has made leagues of improvement since we've started," she began as she came to stand next to the Star. "Not to mention the control you have on your powers. We still need to work on your reaction time, but having to focus on the finesse of combat only goes to show how far you've come."

"Thank you, Frigga," Eleanora replied, wearing a similarly happy expression. She could feel the exertion of her training in the sweat that clung to her skin, but even that in itself was its own reward.

"You're becoming a formidable warrior, Eleanora. With dedication and discipline like yours, you will yet rival my son's abilities," the Allmother stated confidently.

A part of her faltered at that specific praise, for two reasons. The first was that she did not want to become a warrior; that was not her glorious purpose as it had been Aðalbjörg's. She had agreed to the training sessions because Odin wouldn't give her a choice and that it was important to control her power but not to use it for war, if she could help it. She was not a savior; she was to be a beacon, a guiding light— just like her name implied.

The second reason for her dissatisfaction with Frigga's compliment was in regards to the mention of her son. While Eleanora's love for Loki— for that was whom the Allmother meant— had not changed or diminished, she was reminded of the fact that he had not said the words back to her. A part of her was afraid that she had placed too much importance of her position in his life. After all, their marriage had been one of convenience. And yes, while he certainly did seem to care about her, that was not the same as loving her.

She had been pondering what she meant to him since that day on Alfheim and seeds of doubt had begun to take root in her mind. He had never been an overly sentimental person, she knew, but surely saying I love you was not too much of a stretch for him, if he truly meant the words? So, she had to assume that he did not feel the same way about her as she did him. That didn't alter how Eleanora acted around him on a daily basis, though, and did her best to hide these thoughts; she was quite certain he would mock her insecurities.

As if sensing her worries, Frigga cast her a curious look. "What ails you, daughter?"

The blonde startled at the title the queen addressed her with, but then her expression softened with appreciation. As much as her heart was in turmoil because of the youngest prince, it was set at ease with the Allmother's kindness. So, she decided to tell the truth— or some of it, at least. "Loki. He. . . seems like such a different person when we're away from Asgard, but that is perhaps because I see more of him. When he's home, all he does is hide away in the library to read, only venturing out at night. Don't get me wrong," she added hastily, "I understand and appreciate his interests, but he can be. . ."