Freya was in depression, and all of Asgard worried for her. She wore only her black gowns, her room was painted black, she never sang, laughed or even smiled anymore, but worst of all, her hair had turned black without the use of dye.
Yes, Asgard worried for her, but they could not blame her. She had been the closest in the Royal Family to Loki- all of Asgard knew of their bond- and as such, she had been hit hardest by his betrayal and death.
So Asgard mourned. They mourned for their lost Prince, for the sadness of their monarchs, and most of all they mourned for the loss of their Princess. For although she was alive, everybody knew that she was but a shell of who she once was, for she no longer found beauty in life, and as goddess of love and beauty, that was saying something.
One day though, the beloved Princess left the Throne Room with a spring in her step, the sun glistening in her once again golden hair, a smile on her face and a song on her lips as she skipped to her room to change into one of her beautiful, bejewelled, colourful gowns which she had once been famous for.
So Asgard rejoiced at the return of their favourite Royal, the one who always had time to talk to them, the one who the children flocked to, the one who was always there with help at any disaster.
They rejoiced at her return, but they wondered of the cause.
But only the Royal Family knew of the reason. The mortals on Midgard had caught sight of Loki causing trouble, so Thor and Freya were going to stop him.
Freya was going to bring her brother home.
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Brother, Why??
FanfictionEveryone's heard of Thor, the warrior prince. Everyone's heard of Loki, the trickster brother. But not many have heard of Freya, their younger sister, goddess of love and beauty, or the part she played in the stories.
