Copper Feather

8

Evie sat up, clutching her head. From the size of her headache, she would have thought she'd hit a wall or something. She looked around the dark room, then tried to use her wings. They popped out, sure enough, but there was one platinum blonde feather surrounded by her coppery red ones.

"What?" A guard walked past the door, torch in hand, and Evie froze. She flattened herself to the bed, then slipped out of the sheets. She made a face when her bare feet hit the cold, rough stone of the floor.

She flapped her wings once, then looked down at her bloodstained robes. The first thing to do, get new clothes from her room. There was a window open above her bed, and the pale white silken curtains were flapping in the chilly breeze. Evie lifted off slowly, careful not to disturb the serene calm that was seemingly permanently installed into Asgard's nights.

She touched down on the roof softly, then began walking down the beam. She jumped from the top of the beam onto the fence surrounding the entrance to the castle. She flipped once, then landed carefully. She dropped off of the fence, down into the walkway. A guard turned around at the noise, but Evie had already flown up to the window of Thor's room. She pushed open the window pane cautiously, ensuring no sounds were made.

She crept across the room silently, crouched in a defensive position. She opened the door, then slipped out into the hall. Her room was two doors down, but she'd have to pass Loki's room, which was omitting a warm bronze light. It flickered, making Evie think it was a fire. Why'd they put me in a nearly-see-through white gown? Evie thought. Because they're from Asgard, came the reply. Evie rolled her eyes.

She flapped her wings, flying over the door. She landed on a roll, then slipped through the opened door to her room. She relaxed, the beast-skin tug on the floor a welcome relief from the cold marble. Evie walked into the bathroom, nodding to herself at the lit oil lamps and pre-drawn bath.

She took off the white dress, then submerged herself in the clear, warm water. She took a deep breath before washing the now-dried blood from her hair, neck, and back. The usual red color shone through, but Evie did notice the blonde streak in her hair, but after a few seconds of concentration, it turned the proper color.

Evie got out of the bath, pressing the drain, then dried off with the white towels next to her bath. She grabbed some comfy pants and a shirt, then thought twice and grabbed a pale purple cape as well.

She walked into her room, tapping the mantle of the fireplace, watching as the flames flickered to life. She basked in the warmth for a few seconds before turning to the bed. The curtains around the four-poster were wide open, and Evie took a few seconds to close them before she climbed the silken sheets. The sheets were of such fine material that Evie's body heat was trapped almost immediately, keeping her at such a pleasantly warm temperature she was asleep in minutes.

Her dream went something like this:

The woman walked hurriedly through the rain, her dark blue cape shielding her heavily pregnant body from the torrential downpour. The streetlight's flame flickered in the wind, the rain shifting to fall to the right. A man opened a door on the side of the street, the light from a fire lit inside pouring out the door, leaving a cold feeling hanging in the air when it was shut. The woman looked at the door longingly, then kept walking.

A bakery down the street was still lit up and the door open. The woman walked past it, looking at the elegantly frosted cakes longingly. She scurried away quickly after a glare from the baker's wife hit home. The rain was letting up now, but the woman pulled her shawl tighter still. She sat down on the park bench behind the bakery, watching from the shadows as the people of the town who had the unfortunate prerequisite to being out on this cold night, walking through the rain.