Spaces Between

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•Chapter Forty-Four•
The Seventh
(ASGARD)

*this chapter is from a several different and or new perspectives, sorry if it comes off as a bit confusing. this is just a test run*

Tove did not sleep the entire night; not that it would have mattered much. Tove hadn't felt tired since she had awoken in that healing room surrounded by strange beeping machinery.

And found a nasty gash across her mid-section under the thin gown she wore. It was nearly healed; the skin around it a vivid pink but no swelling. Still, it hurt after she prodded at it.

Since then, it hadn't ceased sending the dull, throbbing pain her whole stomach.

If her mother was to discover that Tove had refused bed rest and stowed away as she had, she could not begin to imagine the scolding she would receive. Though, she would take it; if it meant she got the chance to finally fight for her friends.

Tove would be strong.

Maybe the fear wouldn't go away, maybe it would always come back.

But she would stay strong until her family and friends were safe again.

When morning did finally come, Tove heard a light knock on the door. She jumped, a heavy feeling filling her chest. Her throat started to close up but she forced herself to move to the beautifully engraved door that belong to the room she had been given. It massive, perhaps not as spacious as some of the rooms back home but the large open balconies over looking the city made up for it.

Tove gripped the handle of the door and pulled it open.

There, stood a beautiful woman that Tove suspected could be her mother's age, if not a few years older—not that she showed it.  Though she was set well in her life, her dark silk hair showed no sign of grey as it was swept back and held by a pin.  Her skin was a shade darker than Koa's and her near iridescent, bright green eyes held softness.

The green of the lady's eyes were not like Lorien's or Prince Loki's.  Where the Prince's were the the color of an endless stretch of evergreens and Lorien's, a shifting emerald sea; this woman's almost glowed. 

The woman cleared her throat.

Tove flinched, realizing that she had just been staring.  A thick vale of embarrassment covered her and her cheeks flushed pink.

"Forgive me," she managed to squeaked out, but by the time the words crossed her lips, the woman had slipped into the room.  Tove could see folded in her arms a pile of clothes; and Tove knew instantly why she had come.

"My Lady requests that you are prepared to travel within the hour," the Ailsican servant began, "my name is Vita and I have been assigned to fit you with clothing suitable for travel."

Tove thought back to when her own mother did the same for Lorien, then she looked down at the rose printed gown that she had adorn shortly before the trip to Asgard.  And then she looked back up to Vita.

Tove didn't mind her work at the palace. She loved learning from her mother; hopeful to one day be a healer in the palace as she was.  Though, it still struck her strange as for once not playing that role.