Thor 1. Chapter 1

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**Author Note: Disclaimer! I do not own any of the Marvel characters, however the OC's are of my own creation. This is a story that's been in my head for a while. It takes place before the Thor movies and will develop into a romance that may or may not contain mild sexual scenes. It also contains a timid and scarred heroine that has been through much abuse and pain - so if this offends you as a reader or is not your cup of tea for a heroine character, then please stop here! (you have been warned).**

**Enjoy!**

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**Synopsis:**

_She was a shell. A ghost of a woman with a veiled future and a dark past. A past so dark and haunting, she can no longer speak a single word. She was one of few ever to have escaped the shadowed wastelands of Nornheim. The scars on her soul easily outnumbered the scars on her body. It would take much time, much patience, and the charm of a raven haired god of mischief to bring her back into the blinding light of life again._

_He was a prince. A royal of the golden halls of Asgard. The forgotten son of the all-father, Odin. Living as a shadow under the shining example of his brother, Thor. But it would not be for long. For he was observant, clever and cunning. He would wait, bide his time and have it all: the throne, Asgard... and the silent woman who had captured more than just his interest._

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><p><em>Al<em>_l this time I've been afraid, _ _ I _ _ w__ouldn't let it show... Nobody can save me now. _- Battle cry, Imagine Dragons.

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><p><span><strong>Chapter 1 <strong>

" Run, Bryn! Run!"

Fear and pain. It was mixture of emotion that was both potent and lethal. It was what was driving her onwards, propelling her legs to move as she and the others ran for their very lives through the vast wasteland of Nornheim. Her breath came in wheezing gasps, her legs burned, her body was weak, dying of starvation. But it was not a hunger for food that drove her on, but a hunger for life, for survival, for freedom.

There was four of them, she and three others, fleeing as though Surtur the fire demon of Muspelheim himself was following them. The other three men were much faster and much stronger than she was, making it difficult for her to keep up with them.

The cold wind whipped at her face, blinding her with tears. Tears of terror. Her body ached terribly. Her small frame was racked with agony as she pushed herself to keep going, to move faster. She swung her left arm, whilst the other clutched at her side, willing the pain from her ribs. She was sure a few of them were broken. Her back and sides were on fire, the open wounds slashed across her flesh stretched and oozed with each movement she took. It was a previous punishment, but it was also a reminder. A reminder that if they did not escape this hell this day, they would not escape at all. They would die here. If not by lack of food, then by torture of their captives.

She replayed the scenes over and over in her mind. The beatings. The cruelty. The whippings. It urged her on, gave her strength when she thought she had none left to find.

She gave a stumble, almost falling to her knees before a hand reached out and pulled her up, urging her to keep moving.

She glanced up at her friend, Thren, seeing the desperation in his eyes. " Quickly! They are gaining on us!"

Bryn did not need to look back to see that their chasers were indeed not far behind them. She could hear their gigantic feet pounding across the asphalt earth. She could hear their enraged shouts as boulders and rocks of all sizes flew passed their heads, skimming by them by a mere hair length.

Thren's grip on her was firm as he ran, almost dragging her with him. His usually handsome face was contorted with fear, the bruises against the hollow of his cheeks and the paleness of his face was enough to fill her with the adrenaline.

" There it is! Up ahead! We are not far!" It was Valnir, the oldest and leader of her companions that shouted out. His slender form darting around a large splinter of rock in the ground as he pointed towards their destination.

Low and behold there it was. Salvation! The Frostgrinder. It's huge metal structure was like a shining beacon on the peripheral of her vision. It was built buy the dark creatures that hunted them. It was a gateway, a portal between realms, a bridge between worlds. Fire filled her being, it gave her wings as they made it to the short climb of steps before its tall iron archway.

" Just a little further, Bryn, we're almost there." Thren urged, his pace increasing as liberation was finally within reach.

" Kill them!" was the gruff roar from behind them, the trolls heavy footsteps becoming quicker, spurred on by the chase, "Do not let them escape!"

Bryn did not dare to look back. Her heart built into a deafening, dangerous crescendo, almost bursting forth from her chest at its violence.

One step, two steps, three and four. All four of them made it to the top and without a further moment of consideration, they sprang for the doorway of the portal. As though reacting to their approach the construction burst into sudden life. Rays of light spilled from all angles of its frame. The hum of something magical and mechanical filled atmosphere.

Time was of the essence. This was the moment they had been waiting for. It was now or never.

All four of them tumbled through, into its blinding embrace.

" No!"

A large, misshapen hand reached for Bryn, brushing dangerously close to her body, almost catching the fluttering edges of what was left of her gown. But it was too late.

A vibrating powerful surge engulfed them. The world around Bryn began to tilt and whirl until there was nothing.

Nothing but searing blinding light, and the wild beating of her own heart.

Pure whiteness turned into a vortex of colour as the world around them formed and moulded itself. Shapes and patterns became a reality. Bryn's stomach jerked as though she had just fallen from a great height.

Her legs wobbled, almost threatening to collapse beneath her if it was not for Thren's hand upon her, keeping her upright.

She looked around at all four of her male companions.

The sounds of their gasping breaths echoed all around them. One by one they all froze, looked to one another as if in disbelief.

" Are you well, Bryn?" Thren's voice brought her from her chaotic thoughts, as she looked at him. He gave her a small almost sad smile of reassurance. She said nothing, just nodded at him. Flashing a brief smile in return. Her relief evident.

They had made it... They had escaped.

Their joy, however, was short lived as one of the others spoke up.

"Where are we?"

Both Bryn and Thren stepped away from each other to take in their new surroundings. Her eyes widened.

_This was not right._

The portal had brought them to a strange unfamiliar corridor of some design. With ceilings so high it made her dizzy just looking up at them. The walls were such a bright golden hue that it dazzled her if she stared at them too much. The floor tiles beneath their worn, battered feet was equally so. _Majestic_ was not worthy enough of a word for her to use to describe them.

They were no longer in Nornheim, that was for sure. But they certainly were not where they had intended to go. Home.

"This is not Vanaheim." it was Borik, one of her larger, dark haired companions that spoke up with bewilderment.

" No, tis not, " Valnir whispered, looking uneasy as he glanced down one end of the hall, as though expecting something to happen. As though he knew something the others did not. " I have not seen this place before... but I have heard of it."

There was a moment of silence before he finally said, " We are in Asgard."

_Asgard._ The moment the word was spoken, they all fell silent. Such a place was only spoken about in legends in Vanaheim. The halls of Odin, the all-father himself. King of the eternal. Protector of the nine realms.

"But that's... impossible." Thren piped up, "Why have we been brought here?"

"There has to have been some sort of mistake," Valnir could not seem to fathom it, "Perhaps the Frostgrinder malfunctioned..."

They continued to discuss the possibilities to themselves, of what action to take next. Bryn remained silent, listening with close intent.

"We cannot be here. We must leave before someone finds us."

" No. We should speak to him. To Odin. He will welcome us here, I know it." Valnir sounded confident, " He is both wise and kind, he will know what to do."

"Can you be sure?" Borik's deep voice questioned, "We may not be welcome..."

There was a blur of movement to Bryn's left and she turned her head in time to see two tall armour clad men walking towards them. Upon their heads sat fierce looking horned helmets. From a distance they almost appeared to be guards of some kind.

Upon spotting them, they drew thier swords and started towards them with a shout.

" Halt!"

Bryn heard the clink of steel as someone beside them drew his own weapon, ready for battle.

" Borik!" Valnir's voice berated him quietly, " Put down your blade, or they will attack us. Leave this to me, I shall handle this. I have a plan."

Bryn felt herself being pulled behind Thren as the men approached. " Stay close to me." Was all he whispered.

The two came to a stop before them and said, " You are trespassing in the house of King Odin. Identify yourselves."

It was Valnir who stepped forward, lifting his hands in a motion of harmlessness. " I am Valnir, son of Falrin of Vanaheim." He gestured over to us, " These are my friends, they are my travelling companions. We are in need of you and your Kings aid. We wish to speak to him."

The guards look to him, and then to Borik who was still stood there with his sword in his hand. They were tense, ready to fight if necessary; as was Borik.

"You have arrived uninvited and without ceremony to our halls." one guard asked, albeit with a hint of hostility, "What right have you to demand the attention of our lord?"

" Please," Valnir stepped forward a little, " This is all a misunderstanding. We have not come here to fight with you. We have come a long way, from Nornheim-"

"Nornheim!?" they both hissed and Bryn felt herself flinch at the anger that laced their voices.

Maybe that had not been the most wise thing to say. For all of sudden the two guards step forward and lifted their blades up towards them, their faces twisted with mistrust.

" Only treacherous and dark things come from such a place!" one bellowed, his dark eyes burning into Valnir, " You are spies! Admit it!"

Things were getting dangerously out of hand. Bryn could feel it in the tense air that surrounded them. She could feel it in the taut muscles playing in Thren's arm as she reached out and clung to him.

" We are not spies-"

" Enough! We will not listen to your lies!" one guard flew at Valnir, and it was at this stage that chaos erupted.

Bryn was pushed back as the other guard flung himself toward Borik and Thren, his weapon rising high and sweeping low in a killing blow.

She plastered herself against the wall as the men fought, wanting desperately to help somehow, but knew that with her slight and weak frame she would be of no use to them. The pain in her side was growing in intensity, making her see stars, causing her legs to tremble dangerously.

Thren and Borik dodged the guard; one ducking to charge at him and the other side stepping enough to knock the blade from his hand. Valnir swung his arm out catching his guard in the chin but not before he took a swift knee to his stomach, followed by a blow to his back.

More heavy footsteps met her ears.

" Intruders!"

She looked to see more of the golden clad soldiers coming their way. Ten of them at least. Ready to come to the aid of their comrades.

She sprung forward without a thought and took a hold of Thren's tattered shirt, tugging on it viciously to get his attention.

He paused mid hit and looked down to her with a frown and then over her shoulder at the approaching group.

" Valnir?" he asked the other man, " Please tell me this is part of you miraculous _plan._"

" Well..." was Valnir's uncertain reply, " Not exactly."

There was no time to consider it, before she could understand what was happening Bryn felt herself being grabbed and pulled in the opposite direction, running for her life once again.

She wanted nothing more than to cry out, to tell them of her struggle, of the searing spasms that racked her side. She could not go on much further. Her energy was fading, she would only slow them down.

They turn a sharp left, trying lose sight of the group following them. Just as they darted into the awaiting corridor, they almost ran directly into another crowd of guards, waiting for them.

The world whirled as Bryn was pulled to an abrupt stop. Her companions spun, trying to keep sight of all their aggressors, not wanting to be taken by surprise should they decide to attack again.

They closed in on them slowly, taking measured steps towards them, weapons at the ready.

" Run! Go!"

Bryn felt herself being pushed as Thren and Borik thrust themselves forward into the mass and begun to fight. They were strong fighters, quick and precise, but it was not enough to stop them from being overwhelmed by the armed men.

Torn between the urge to flee and urge to stay and help, Bryn hesitated.

" Come!" Valnir urged her, reaching for her, " We must go, now!"

She had no choice but to follow him, her legs pumping as she tried to keep up with his frantic pace. She wanted to voice her worry, her concern for her friends life but was unable to do so.

They turned this way and that, weaving their way through the endless labyrinth of golden corridors. Behind them, she could hear a few of the guards following closely behind them. Chasing them.

At some point Valnir let go of her arm and she turned another corner...

Only to slow to stop when she realised he was no longer beside her. The area was empty, save for herself. She had lost him.

She was alone.

Her pulse quickened, as a heavy lump landed into deepest pit of her stomach. Fear, like a living creature, manifested itself into her being, strangling her of all reasoning. She could barely breathe.

" One of them went this way!"

They were gaining on her!

With wide eyes, she threw herself into the nearest door, practically wrenching it from his hinges as she flew into the room awaiting on the other side.

It was dark and she could barely distinguish shapes and shadows in the blackness. With a whimper of a breath she looked for somewhere to go, some place to hide.

She could hear them. The guards. They were almost outside of the door, moving closer.

She noticed the flat surface of a table not far away by a heavily draped arched window and without hesitating she slid her small body underneath it, causing the fabric covering to ripple with her movements, falling into place to conceal her. It stilled mere seconds before the door sprang open, revealing her pursuers.

" She came in here." one said, and Bryn curled herself up as tightly as possible, praying to the holy goddesses that they would not find her.

With a bated breath, she waited, and listened.

" She's in here somewhere," there was a clang of steel, " Search for her."

There was a scuffling and scraping noise as furniture was being moved. Bryn could she thier outlines as they split up and stepped around the perimeter of the room, seeking her out. At one point someone nudged against the end of the table concealing her. The need to flee was an urgent demand in her mind; the need to remain as still and quiet as possible, even more so.

They were close. So close, she could swear they would find her by hearing her pounding heart.

Bryn clenched her eyes tight, and waited for inevitable to happen...

" Is there a reason why you have come in here unannounced and interrupting me?"

A voice. It came from the darkened edge of the room. A quiet and yet demanding voice. Authoritatively male and yet gentle at the same time. Cunning and yet with an almost playful edge to it. Filled with a knowing that had shivers trickling down Bryn's spine. A voice so clear and alluring; like the trickling ripples of a stream in spring.

The newcomer took everyone in the room by surprise.

A shadow peeled itself away from the corner, from a high backed chair.

Bryn's heart was in her throat. She had not known there had been someone there! She had assumed the room empty and had flung herself into her hiding spot without thought. Which meant only one thing...

She may not have seen who this newcomer was, but he had surely seen her.

He would tell them where she was. He would find her and drag her out from her sanctuary and...

"My prince," was it just her? Or did the guard's voice falter slightly as they addressed the other man? " Forgive us, we did not mean to intrude. It's just that..."

The speaker hesitated, his unease apparent in the silence that followed, filling the atmosphere with an ominous intensity.

_My prince? _The thought drifted across her mind.

" Yes?" the word was drawled, a silky invitation.

" It is just that there are intruders, here, in your father's halls." The guard managed to finish in a sudden rush, " We have reason to believe one of them is here, in this very room."

" Is that so?" There was no hint of emotion. Nothing.

" Yes." there was a rustle of fabric followed by a soft clink as a sword was placed back into its sheath, "A young woman is one among them, she arrived with three other males. Somehow they have managed to enter into the palace without us knowing, without the great Heimdall seeing them. We believe they are spies, they said they were from Nornheim, the dark realm of the..."

The other man sighed lowly, almost with boredom, "Yes, I know where it is and what resides there."

" Please," there it was again, that hesitation in the guards tone, "Allow us permission to check the room, your highness. If she is hiding here, we will find her. Your safety and protection is paramount."

For a moment, there was a pause. A long drawn out silence that made Bryn feel like all the realms and time itself had stood still.

Her eyes opened. Deep down she knew that it would soon be over, that her end was approaching.

"And you believe she is here?" came the low almost intrigued question, "In this very room?"

The shadow moved. From Bryn's position she could see the tall frame of a man. His legs long and sleek, his booted feet covered in the finest leather as they began a slow almost languid step towards the table. Heading directly for her.

"Yes, your highness."

Those legs continued and paused a mere step away from the table. All it would take is for Bryn to reach out her arm and she could touch him. And vice versa. He was close, far too close for her liking. She slunk back as quietly as possible, almost plastering herself to the far wall into a tight ball, trying to ignore the sharp stabbing in her ribs. The bright stars dancing before her vision.

"Tell me something, _Ulrik_." The mysterious Prince addressed him directly, " If you indeed believe that someone has slipped into these rooms, do you not think I would have noticed?"

There was a creak of wood as the man shifted to lean a hip nonchalantly against the table ledge.

"Well... I..." the guard stammered, unable to find the words.

" Do you not think I would have seen her?" The man was relentless in his merciless questioning.

" I was only consideri..." the young man's voice trailed off. Uncertain.

There was a long pause in which Bryn could not see what was happening, but could feel the tension in the air. The unspoken challenge, the battle of command between the men.

" Forgive me, your highness." the guard finally spoke up, his tone contrite, " We shall leave at once." There was soft tap as he lifted a hand to his chest in respectful salute to royalty, "Our sincerest apologies."

And with that all three of the golden clad men turned and left the room, their cloaks rippling softly behind them. The bang of the door closing behind them was like a clap of thunder to Bryn's ears.

She remained still, eyeing the legs that were still so close to her frame.

She heard a low noise, a sigh from above the tables wooden surface.

There was a creak of leather and a rustle of fabric as the person slowly began to lower themselves into a crouch. A long fingered, pale hand took hold of the edge of the table covering and almost cautiously began to lift it. Revealing her to him. And him to her.

Bryn gasped silently, her mouth falling open.

The ethereal being that peered back her was both awe inspiring and frightening. The man watching her carefully was beautiful. With rich ebony locks that were pushed back away from his handsomely smooth features; their feathered ends curling gently around the rounded curves of his ears. Everything about him had her attention. The long slender form that was covered in black as though he was born of the shadows. The aristocratic nose. The pale, almost luminescent skin.

But what really held her gaze was his eyes. They were such a bright and appealing shade of green, like the dewy blades of grass in spring. Almost feline looking in the dim light. They were so expressive and yet so concealing of the thoughts that lay within. They seemed to hold her captive, unable to allow her to look away. As though delving into her very soul, as though knowing her intimately.

His lips lifted into a slow smile. His voice an almost gentle enticement as he whispered to her.

" Why, hello there."


	2. Chapter 2

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**Chapter 2**

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_But what really held her gaze was his eyes. They seemed to hold her captive, unable to allow her to look away. As though delving into her very soul, as though knowing her intimately._

_His lips lifted into a slow smile. His voice an almost gentle enticement as he whispered to her._

_" Why, hello there."_

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**Loki's POV**

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The darkness of the room embraced him, like a babe in the womb of its mother; it welcomed him. Only a small sliver of light came through the drapes, all but banishing away the bright world beyond. With one leg across the other, Loki engrossed himself in his books. It was his one moment of peace, his one true freedom from the tedious and often taxing creature that was his brother. Thor had come to him shortly after the sun had risen, bellowing enthusiastically about the day ahead and what it would bring. Loki had somehow allowed himself to be coerced into joining him and the warriors three in the courtyard for a light training session. Whilst the idea of a fight had excited his brother, Loki had merely sat to one side and observed. Often, Fandral would try to encourage him, try to vex him into raising his daggers against them, but it did not work. It never did.

_Come brother, You are not afraid of losing are you? _

_Leave him be,_ it had been Volstagg who had joined in with the teasing, _Only true warriors have honour and do battle... whilst others only have tricks to play._

It was at this point Loki had decided to slink away, unnoticed, back to his room to revel in his much needed solitude.

With a distinct wave of his hand, he allowed his magic to pour out; the emerald mist solidifying to conjure a goblet of wine betwixt his nimble fingers. The book in his other hand was a leather bound volume of various illusions and enchantments; none that he did not already know. It was simply a means of entertainment, a way of passing the time until he would undoubtedly be called upon, yet again, by his father. Odin.

With a slow blink of his lashes the parchment lifted on its own accord and turned onto the next page.

This is what he needed, what he desired above all else. Quiet. The silence. The emptiness that soothed his mind. Of the growing uncertainty and doubt about the upcoming ceremony that would undoubtedly lead to his failure, and the ascension of his brother to the throne.

_Only one of you may ascend to the throne... but both of you were born to be kings. _

With a snap Loki closed his book and placed it beside him on the table with a low sigh. His brows furrowed and his hand lifted to perch broodingly across his lips, his mind deep in thought.

The all-father had said such words once, when they had been but small boys. But now? Loki was not so sure. His brother was good at heart, but he was also arrogant, proud and reckless; such traits that are frowned upon for a potential King of Asgard to possess. However he, Loki, he had many qualities that would make him suitable for the throne. Qualities that the all-father refused to see.

He was running out of time. He could not simply stand by and watch all of his hard work and planning waste away into nothingness. He had to do somethi...

The sudden crash of the door flying opening brought him out of thoughts. His head lifted somewhat in surprise as his gaze took in the creature that had just disturbed his privacy.

A brow rose at the small figure that was standing inside of his chambers glancing around the area, as though seeking something.

He felt his jaw tightening at the young boy's audacity. Even as the intruders face swung briefly across his direction, not seeing him in the dim light, Loki felt the fire of his noble blood come to fore. The very idea that someone dare to enter his rooms without his permission or acknowledgement was an insult. The boy ought to be flogged for his impenitence.

Before Loki could express his displeasure, the small being dived suddenly out of sight by the window just as the door swung open once again to reveal three guards.

They stepped into his room, mumbling to one another as they began to search around for the being now huddled silently under his writing desk. One guard in particular moved steadily closer towards it...

"Is there a reason why you have come in here and interrupting me?" the words left his lips before he could stop them, and all eyes sprang to his form in the corner of the room.

" My prince," The taller of the guard stepped forward to address him, his voice stammering somewhat as though surprised to see him there, " Forgive us we did not mean to intrude, it is just that..."

"Yes?"

The guard appeared uncertain for a moment, his eyes skimming quickly around the dimmed room before landed back to him.

" It is just that there are intruders, here, in your fathers halls. We have reason to believe one of them is here, in this very room."

" Is that so?" Even though his eyes were delving into the male in front of him, he was acutely aware of the presence by the window.

"Yes." The guard sheathed his sword away and straightened, "A young woman is one among them, she arrived with..."

He lost track of what was being said at this point as one single thought flashed across his mind.

_She?...A woman?_

He pondered back to when the figure had first come into the dark room. Small. Thin in frame. With short, if hardly any hair. No luscious, silky long locks. No curvaceous form or ample bosom.

Could it have possibly been...? Surely not.

He was intrigued.

"...Somehow they have managed to enter into the palace without us knowing, without the great Heimdall seeing them. We believe they are spies, they claim they are from Nornheim, the dark realm of the..."

" Yes," He interrupted them, " I know where it is and what resides there."

"Please," The guard bowed, his tone beseeching, " Allow us permission to check the room, your highness. If she is hiding here we will find her. Your safety and protection if paramount."

Loki felt his lips sliding up into a smile. The very thought that this so called 'honoured protector of the all-father' considered a mere female a threat to _him_; The god of mischief, of all that was clever and cunning. It was almost laughable.

" And you believe she is here?" Loki queried with mock concern as he moved slowly towards the table, " In this very room?"

The guard, "Yes your highness"

The more Loki stared at the man in front of him the more he began realise something. He knew him; this guardian of the palace. He knew him very well, in fact. _Ulrik_, Son of Ensil. On more than one occasion Loki had overhead him speaking with his armed comrades about the royal family. Loki, himself, in particular. What was it he had referred him to as? Ah, yes...' a lying treacherous snake'.

There it was, that smile again. Cold and calculating. Loki felt it across his face at the pleasure he would take at putting the brute in his place.

" Tell me something, _Ulrik_..." Loki leant carefully against the tables edge and he swore he heard the smallest of scuffling sounds come from beneath its surface.

His voice was soft, but dripping with venom. He saw the armoured man stiffen at the address, " If you indeed believe that someone has slipped into these rooms, do you not think I would have noticed?"

"Well... I..." the guard stammered, unable to find the words.

Loki gave him no quarter, " Do you not think I would have seen her?"

" I was only consideri..."

Loki lifted a brow, daring him to continue. The young man's voice trailed off. Uncertain.

" Forgive me, your highness. We shall leave at once." There was soft tap as he lifted a hand to his chest in a respectful salute, "Our sincerest apologies."

In a whirl of fabric and a click of boots they were gone and out of the large arched door, shutting it with a click behind them.

With the chamber once again in silence, Loki turned to the table and slowly began to lower himself, lifting the covering as he went to gradually reveal the huddled figure underneath.

He felt his own eyes widen at the ones that were staring back at him from the shadows. Doe like eyes that were brown in colour; as deep and as rich as the darkest honey in Asgard. Large. Brilliant. Alluring... and frightened.

Loki manoeuvred back a little and took in the rest _her. _

Yes, she was most definitely a 'she'. Though curled up tightly against herself, he could see she was small in stature. She was a fully grown woman, but her sickly appearance made her look almost child-like. She was narrow, her body almost skeletal. He could see the angles of her face jutting out, casting shadows when there should be none for one so young. He could see the bones of her knuckles, her fingers so thin as they gripped what was left of a tattered gown to herself; he was afraid they would snap if she continued to hold herself so. She had short, if no hair; It looked as though whatever had been there, had been hacked off with a blade.

What really drew his attention however was the blood. It covered her. It was splattered on her clothing, on her face where her lip and brow was cut, on her bare feet, on her side and the legs that he could briefly see beneath her skirts. Whether it was fresh or dry, he could no tell. But it was clearly hers, and she was in dire need of a healer.

He met her eyes again and she shrunk back further into the shadows.

His brother and the others had always tried to invoke some kind of emotion from him; be it joy, indignation or anger. They had failed every time, of course, much to his delight. But here, in this very instant, looking in those large cinnamon orbs... he felt a twinge of something. A sharp stab, as what he saw in them reflected something deep inside of himself.

He smiled slowly at her. Trying to be kind and reassuring, but it felt foreign on his features.

" Well, hello there."

The shadow of her form moved, but there was no reply. Only silence.

"Are you the helpless little lamb they are searching for?" He spoke quietly to her, as though it was one of his beloved horses he was trying to coax.

Again, there was no response, but her eyes watched him. As though he were some wolf standing watch, waiting outside the rabbits hole, she stared wide eyed at him.

Carefully, so as not to take her by surprise, he uncurled his long fingers and lifted his hand, offering for her to take it.

Loki smiled again, one of his best charming grins that he saved for his mother and the odd pretty maiden he'd wish to take to his bed.

" Come," he purred to her, using the power of his voice to bring her to him, " No harm will come to you here. You have nothing to fear from me."

He paused, and then waited. And then waited some more.

When she did not take his offered hand still, his face fell slightly and his patience began to run thin. She was staring at his hand as though it were a snake about to strike out and drag her from her sanctuary. As tempting as the idea was, the last thing he wanted was a screaming and weeping woman on his hands.

Perplexed, he looked to her again unsure of what action to take. Their eyes met, frosted green against molten amber.

He opened his mouth, about to try a different tactic, a different route of approach, when all of sudden her gaze drifted past him to something over his shoulder. Or rather _someone_.

By the time he had chance to act, it was too late. A shadow in the peripheral of his vision moved beside him and he felt the sharp kiss of a blade being pressed against his throat.

"Step away."

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**Bryn POV**

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Bryn felt torn, unsure of what she should do; whether to stay under the table, run for the door or take the man's hand. He was just crouched there, his long almost gangly legs were bent at the knees, making him seem tall even from such a lowered position. She looked to the hand outstretched to her in a peace offering, and then to his pale smooth features and then back again. He was promising her safety and protection, but there something in the deep abyss of his eyes that stopped her from taking it.

Despite his handsome features and silky voice, something was warning her not to trust this man. Valnir had said that the King, Odin, was kind and that him and his people would help them. But instead, the guards had attacked them and called them spies, and had even tried to kill them. Why would this man, his son, be any different?

She half expected him to reach for her and drag her out, to demand what she was doing here and have her imprisoned for refusing his aid. He was after all... a _prince?_

He looked princely. His clothing was of the finest material, with intricate designs of gold that symbolised his place and stature in the royal family. His hand, upon closer inspection, was perfectly clean, with no roughness or blemishes anywhere on the smooth pale skin. A hand that had not known the difficulties of toil or hard labour.

A sharp stabbing pain in her side brought her back to reality, reminded her of the danger this single man posed for her. For her friends.

More white spots danced before her vision, the agony in her ribs was growing with each passing second. Ripping the very breath from her lungs. Making her feel on the brink of losing herself to the blackness that threatened to take her.

She peered up into the aristocratic face above hers and saw arrogance there, along with impatience and... was that, curiosity?

She did not have time to consider it, for the door slowly crept open and a shape started stalking it's way closer to stand right behind said Prince. She half wanted to somehow warn him of the danger, but then paused when she recognised the face belonging to the shadow.

It was Thren.

There was a clink of steel as something was drawn out of a sheath. A long blade of a sword was placed at the raven haired man's neck.

" Step away."

The prince froze, both physically and mentally it seemed. His eyes, once expressive and open was now shuttered and ice cold as they slithered to the side to look at his attacker.

His lifted his pale slender hands, a gesture of innocent surrender as he slowly stood and backed away from the table.

"Bryn," Thren's voice was raspy, heaving somewhat, " Come out, you are safe now."

Without pause, Bryn crawled her way out from under the table and slid herself behind Thren, so that he stood between her and the young prince, who was now looking at her with an intensity that was making her feel like a rare specimen being pinned helplessly on a display.

She met his bright emerald gaze by peering around Thren's broad shoulder and swallowed the dry lump that forming in her throat.

Those delving eyes ran across her, all the way from the tips of her short hair to the roughened blisters of her feet. She felt unworthy to stand in his immaculate presence.

He gave her mercy by looking away to her companion and the sword he wielded in his hands.

" You dare to threaten me?" their was no mistaking the darkness in his tone of voice, the silent promise of retaliation for doing such a thing. " Do you not know who I am?"

Regardless of the disadvantage he was in, the man took a step closer, his lips turning up slowly into a knowing almost dangerous smirk.

" You are making..." Another slow step, "... a very dire mistake."

Thren appeared uneasy, unsure of what to do, unsure of whether to attack or not.

Before he could make that decision, the echoing of heavy footsteps sounded from behind her and Bryn turned just in time to see a large group of guards come bursting in through the door.

Alarmed, she spun to grab hold of Thren, but was stunned into stillness when he was at the last moment pulled away from her. She saw it happen, but it was so quick she nearly missed it. The emerald eyed prince took Thren's moment of weakness and grabbed his arm, twisting it so that the blade in his hand dropped to the floor with a clang. There was a thrum of something, a wave of tangible energy as an illuminate glow surrounded his fingers. The eerie smoke took the form of a dagger and within seconds it was pressed against Thren's jugular.

He was helpless. The tables had turned.

With a silent cry she tried to spring forth to aid him but was stopped short when a thick arm shot out and pulled her around the waist to a broad armoured chest.

Frantically she struggled, trying to fight off the guard holding her. Fighting as though for her very life.

She heard a shout, someone called her name.

" No! Let her go!"

She hit and bit and scratched and in return the arms tightened around her, almost to the point of crushing her, squeezing her of breath.

The pain was phenomenal. The bones of her ribs rubbed together and the wounds at her side pulled taut and tore. She could feel the warm wetness seeping through her clothing. Her knees buckled. Tears rolled down her face.

Just as she managed to suck in one deep cleansing gulp of air, her legs crumbled away from under her and she started to fall.

As her head lolled back her eyes skimmed across the highly domed ceiling, to the golden covered walls, to the two tall familiar figures standing close, watching them.

A certain pair of darkened green eyes drew her hazy, unfocused attention. But not before the world around her whirled and sounds faded away, until all that remained... was an empty blackness.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the wait guys! I have been working very hard on this chapter and at last it is ready! Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think so far! :0)**

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><p>-o-o-o-o-<p>

**Previously...**

_She hit and bit and scratched and in return the arms tightened around her, almost to the point of crushing her, squeezing her of breath._

_The pain was phenomenal. The bones of her ribs rubbed together and the wounds at her side pulled taut and tore. She could feel the warm wetness seeping through her clothing. Her knees buckled. Tears rolled down her face._

_ Just as she managed to suck in one deep cleansing gulp of air, her legs crumbled away from under her and she started to fall._

_ As her head lolled back her eyes skimmed across the highly domed ceiling, to the golden covered walls, to the two tall familiar figures standing close, watching them._

_A certain pair of darkened green eyes drew her hazy, unfocused attention. But not before the world around her whirled and sounds faded away, until all that remained... was an empty blackness._

-o-o-o-o-

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 3<span> **

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_The fear that clawed at her throat was overwhelming, utterly and entirely consuming of her senses. It gripped at her like an iron fist, refusing to let her go, growing tighter with each passing breath she took._

_With wide eyes she scanned the world around her, plumes of smoke rolling, choking her as she searched the wreckage. What had once been her village now lay in ashes at her feet. Houses were cinders; smouldering piles of stone and wood. The market place, shops, taverns, the temple, the beautiful gardens. All of them a part of her childhood, a part of her memories, her life. Her home... it was gone! Destroyed._

_Her body trembled as the shock began to take over her frame. Almost robbing her of her reasoning. Only one thought kept her grounded, kept her sane, gave her purpose..._

_The children!_

_When the giant beasts had attacked, she had been playing with them in the lavender fields; a wonderful game of hide and seek. The moment she had sighted the smoke rising from the town, followed by shouts she and the little ones had ran back to seek help._

_Such an error it had been._

_The trolls were everywhere, slashing and pounding their way through every structure and being that crossed their paths. Leaving nothing in their wake in one piece._

_Upon seeing the four children's young and frightened faces, Bryn knew she had to do something. They did not fully understand what was happening. She had to protect them._

_A new game of hide and seek had begun, but it was a game of life and death. She had told them. Told them to run and hide, somewhere safe._

_They had nodded, their faces pale and uncertain._

_" Bryn, no, do not leave us." Tom the tanner son had spoken shakily to her._

_Arms latched themselves around her legs, hugging her. " I'm scared." Came the sweet voice of little Mae, the butchers niece. Her little cherub face pleading with her._

_Bryn knelt down to them all, and drew them all into a tight hug. She kissed each child in turn on the head and ushered them away. Telling them to go, to hide._

_She promised them. Promised she would return and come for them. That they would be safe._

_They had nodded and hesitantly they began to run. Bryn did not have time to watch them to make sure they got there safely, for out of no where a great meaty fist grabbed her from behind around the throat, lifting her cleaning off her feet._

_She fought them. Hands grabbed at her, tore at her, crushed her of her very breath and blood. They came from everywhere; great towering grey creatures with mangled faces and enormous arms and heads. Though there were so many of them._

_She battled them with every ounce of her strength and courage she could muster. If she died today, she would do so protecting the children. She would not let them perish and fall into these monsters hands, she would..._

_Fresh smoke filled her nose and through her struggles she heard the desperate shrieks of the other villagers. She turned her head to see many more of their homes being burnt. To see her people, people she knew as friends, running for their lives and from the death that awaited them._

_Through her maddening struggles she caught sight of a single building in the distance. The stables. Its thatched roof alight. Its entire structure being engulfed by the hungry searing flames. The panicked cries of the horses..._

_Along with the pitiful screams of the four small figures trapped within. _

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><p>-o-o-o-o-<p>

The moment Bryn opened her eyes, bright beaming light assaulted her vision. Her heart hammered as she became instantly aware of herself and her surroundings. Her side ached terribly. Her body pulsed and throbbed with each breath that she took; the air around her heavy.

Where was she? Her eyes peered around, cautiously. She was laid upon some strange solid surface. The ceiling above her was high and domed. Strange glowing lights, like tiny orbs, danced above her body. Like strange fireflies they floating down to her, brushing against her, softly seep into her. Feeding her their warmth and strength.

A single though entered her mind. Where were the others? Where was Thren?

" She is awake."

The voice, feminine and soft, broke her from her worries. She reacted instantly. Ignoring the pain in her side she shot up and rolled off the odd stone surface to face a group of three simply dressed women. They appeared surprised as she scrambled back against the nearest wall. Fear was a growing sensation in her chest, making it feel like the walls around her were closing in on her.

_She needed to go... but to where exactly? Where was she?_

The women took a steady, careful step towards her. One woman, the eldest of the three, held her hands out in a supplicating gesture.

"Be at ease, my child." Her tone was gentle, almost motherly. "You have nothing to fear from us."

_Who were these strangers?_ Her gaze ran over each of them. She did not know them. _Where was Thren? And Borik? And Valnir?_ Bryn did not take the time to consider it for long. Quickly scanning the room around her with wide eyes, she slid against the wall, edging her way towards the domed entrance to the room. Her only way out.

With each step it was agony, the bones of her ribs seem to rub and grind against each other. The wounds at her back were pulled taught, she could feel the warm wetness seeping through her... she paused in thought, and looked down and saw she had strange plain brown shift on. Her one and only dress she possessed and had arrived in was gone.

Her head spun, feeling strangely light. She felt so confused, so lost. Her mind was awake, demanding that she take flight and flee for survival. But her body was slow, uncooperative.

"These are the healing halls." Another of the women spoke, as though sensing her turmoil. Her eyes were grey and kind as they stared at her. "You are in the house of the all-father."

"Fear not," said the oldest again, "None shall harm you here, we are here to help you."

Healing halls? All-father? Bryn's head span, and then it all slowly began to come back to her. She was in the golden halls of Odin. In Asgard. They had managed to escape the trolls and had found themselves here. They had been chased by guards and then a dark haired prince had arrived...

Bryn shivered as she remembered. Those emerald eyes were imprinted in her mind. Burning her. His sharp pale features and hair as black as the night sky in winter. With the ability to create mist in the palm of his hands, to conjure anything he wished.

Since she had been a child she had always been told of such creatures who could wield and manipulate the magic of the realms. Dark and powerful magic. Deadly magic. Such power was feared, unheard of, unspoken of. Only evil could ever come of it. That was what she had been told, what she had been brought up to believe.

Thren had been unable to defend himself against such abilities. The thought was creating a sickening lump in her throat. She only prayed to the goddess Hela for mercy and that he was alive and well.

The form of one of the women taking another step closer pulled her out of her reverie. The woman's hands were outreached to her, as though about to touch her, to usher her back to the table.

"You must rest." She encouraged, "Come, we must..."

She did not finish her words. The moment the older woman's fingers almost brushed her skin, Bryn lunged for the archway and into the awaiting corridor.

"Wait!" They called after her, "You are too weak to..."

Bryn's heart hammered wildly, she cast a wild look around her surroundings, trying to decide which direction to go...

"Guards! Stop her!"

The three women appeared at the entrance, following her. Their gazes flashed to something, or someone behind Bryn.

She whirled to see two golden clad guards merely a few feet away, approaching with swift intent.

Run.

She span and bolted in the opposite direction. Her lungs burned and her entire body was on fire as she used all of her strength and energy to will her legs to move. Her bare feet were unsteady against the marbled floor, almost tripping over themselves as she heard the clunking of steel and heavy footsteps gaining behind her.

_Why?!_ She cried in mindless panic to herself, _Why were they doing this?_ She was no threat to them. She just wanted to find her friends, to go home.

"… you have come to our realm, uninvited and unannounced." A voice, deep and male, resounded from somewhere in the distance, echoing around the endless halls like the crack of thunder. " What cause have you to be here?"

"Where is she? Where is Bryn!?"

Her heart leaped, relief filling her. She knew that voice! Its familiar soft male drawl filled her legs with a sudden unknown strength...

Thren!

" Rest assured," that deep authoritative voice replied. "She is in safe hands."

With a final surge of strength and the heavy breaths of the men following closely behind her, she flew towards the huge set of golden double doors and pushed them open. They were so heavy; It took all her strength, but she managed it. All but throwing herself into the huge expanse of a hall that awaited within.

Blinding golden hues surrounded her. They reflected of every wall, every towering column, every surface. The doors slammed on their thick hinges, causing all focus to land onto her.

The moment Bryn's eyes fell on Thren and the other two of her companions, she all but wanted to cry. They were stood before a grand set of curving stone steps, upon it sat a majestic throne, a single man sat upon it with a woman standing at his side.

Bryn surged forward without thought until she was beside them, their larger bodies huddling around her as they spoke to her...

"Bryn?!" Thren was equally surprised to her.

" By the gods, you are here!"

" Have they harmed you?" Borik's hand was at her shoulder.

" What is this?" It was the broad looking man upon the throne that broke the moment. His regal bearing and proud stance had everyone's attention. Everything about him spoke of a noble nature; like the great lions she had read about, born from the world of Midgard. From the detailed armour on his chest, to the striking long staff in his hand. His beard was long and stark white. His eyes wise and knowing, though one was covered by a single patch.

They all knew whom he was. This great being, whom was father and creator of all that was legendary and great; like the rocks that formed the mighty mountains of their home. He was the all-father. Protector of the nine realms. King of Asgard.

This was Odin.

"Goodness." It was the gentile looking woman who stood beside him that spoke up. Her gaze on Bryn as she furrowed a brow in concern. "What is she doing here? She should be with the healers."

This must be Frigga, Bryn thought in confirmation, Odin's Queen. Her classic beauty, gentle nature and fierce loyalty was known throughout many of the eternal realms.

Heavy footsteps drew all gazes to the two guards as they finally made their way into the grand hall and forward to kneel before Odin.

They raised a hand to each of their chests in salutation, as one said rather breathlessly, "Forgive us, my king. My queen. The woman woke so suddenly, the healers had no time to..." when Odin did not move an inch upon his throne in concern, Bryn could see the guard swallow nervously before continuing, " She ran from them."

"Bryn, are you well?"

It was Thren's voice that reached her ears from beside her. But she did not turn to look up at him. The moment the old Kings wise eyes moved over to her, she felt herself being examined, closely. It felt as though, like the parting of a vast sea, the bodies around her moved aside at his silent stare, demanding she reveal herself from the protection of her companions.

Was she well? Was she hurt? She shook her head. She was not quite sure to which of the questions she gave her answer to. All she knew was that she wanted to just leave and hide away from all of the prying eyes that peered at her. Be it in pity, concern or mistrust.

"Father! We have arrived!"

A group of six figures entered the hall. The leader was a tall and broad warrior of a man. With fair golden hair, and a flowing red cloak at his back. A heavy and deadly looking hammer was gripped tightly in his hand, with such an ease and strength that made her suddenly uneasy.

The others consisted of a youngish looking man, both handsome in appearance and bearing. Another was stout and large in stature. The woman at his side looked equally fierce, with shining armour and sleek black hair pulled up high on her head. The third male Bryn recognised by his exotic looks and fierce countenance.

Hogan the grim. Of Vanaheim, their homeland. A legendary warrior amongst the Vanir.

The final addition to their company, however, was the one that truly had Bryn's focus. The moment he advanced into sight, her gaze landed onto him and she felt herself stiffen.

His gaze wandered over each of them with a cold detachment. The pale smoothness of his features and complete black attire made him look otherworldly, making his stand out in stark relief against his companions. Those green eyes, so frosted in appearance that they almost looked like frozen water upon a lake, paused when they glided over to her. When they did, she was both entranced and frightened by the intensity in which they delved into her. Something flashed within them, a silent kind of acknowledgement to her presence. It was as though they missed nothing; no thought was left unseen to his eye, no secret unknown.

"News has met my ears that we have visitors." The man now recognised as the all-fathers son, Thor spoke.

"Forgive us, great king." Valnir stepped forward suddenly, "But we are in dire need of your help. We are escaped prisoners from Nornheim..." There was a long drawn out moment when he said the name. Bryn could feel the negative emotions coming from the warriors in waves.

"Me, my comrades and many others I have not the heart to speak of or remember have been captives of the rock trolls residing there." He gestured back to all of his companions, " They took us from our homes, in Vanaheim. We managed to escape them by entering the Frostgrinder. It is what has brought us to you."

"You sent them to us," Borik interrupted loudly, his broad countenance tightened in barely constrained anger. " You banished them from Nornheim and they came to our realm. They have destroyed everything we hold dear."

" Borik," Valnir glared at him, " That's enough, it will not change anything."

" No I shall not!" The moment Borik's shout left his mouth the guards moved to stand before him, shielding their king. Borik paid no heed to them. " I will not be silent any longer! They killed my wife! my children! They brought chaos and despair to our village! You have done this to us!"

The fair haired prince was quick to act, " How dare you address my father so ill?"

The clink of armour was their only warning before blades were drawn and pointed into Bryn and her companions direction. It was only when Odin lifted a hand to still them did they draw back and lower.

" I am not aware of this situation. It has been many years since an attack on Vanaheim has been heard of." Odin's voice broke through the tension."You say there were many of you taken?"

"Where are the others?" The queen, Frigga stepped closer to us, her aged but nonetheless beautiful face a welcome to Bryn against the harshness of the men around her. " Only four of you managed to escape? Only so few?"

"The rest are dead." It was whispered; Thren's voice was quiet, haunted with memories.

There was a long pause in which no one spoke. But it was filled with the understanding that whilst there was only so few of them that had escaped, they had survived a nightmare no living creature should have had to endure. The loss of loved ones. The loss of self worth. The loss of life and many hundreds of years of made memories.

" I know not of how this great misfortune came upon you." Odin spoke suddenly, calmly, "I can only take blame for the pain and suffering you must have been through and for that I will make amends, rest assured." he held out a withered but strong hand out to us in welcome, "You will have my full hospitality here at the golden halls of Asgard. Whatever you shall need, it will be supplied to you."

There was a pause, a long silence in which Bryn and the others became thoughtful, considering the offer. The offer for peace. For freedom. The time to think and reflect. To heal.

"You will need care." Frigga moved to stand before Bryn and reached out to touch her hand in kindness. Bryn out of instinct moved away from the contact. The good queen did not appear offended, rather a small smile of understanding was cast across her features. "Our healers will take care of you." she turned to the others. "We will provide you with clothing, a warm bed and a good hearty meal."

Odin nodded in agreement, "I will send my finest to investigate the reason for this attack. Once your strengths have returned we will make arrangements to have you all returned to your homes, in Vanaheim. "

Your families. For some reason, the words stung her. She felt a deep pain in her chest. A pain no healer could repair or heal. Small, trusting little faces flashed across her memory. It caused a thickness to form in her throat, heavy with emotion.

"Hogan is of the Vanir," Thor spoke up suddenly, drawing their thoughts away from the darkness, " He is one of you and one of our greatest warriors."

The dark clad warrior stepped forth and place a hand upon his chest in an oath, " I will see to it that the trolls will not return."

"Truly?" Thren sounded hopeful, "You will help us?"

Thor nodded, "You have my word," he turned to gesture to the group standing beside him, " This is the Lady Sif and the warriors three. Fandral. Hogan. And Volstagg." The four took turns to nod their heads to them in greeting. Thor finally turned to the opposite side of his father, where the dark haired figure of the second, younger prince stood. " And this, is my brother Loki."

The moment he said the name Bryn felt the ground shift from beneath her. He legs grown suddenly weak, her stomach dropped in dread. Loki? As in, the god of all that was deceitful? The master of lies and trickery. This was the being that had spared her and kept her hidden from the guards. But why? The fact that he was Thor's acclaimed brother was equally disturbing, as they looked nothing alike. They were as different as light and dark; night and day. They bore no resemblance.

Loki, the dark one, did not nod to them as the others had. Instead he simply stood there, unmoving, watching them closely.

" What of us that do not have families." Borik asked, breaking the moment, " My loved ones are dead. I have nothing to return to in Vanaheim. My wife, my children have passed across the great river into the realm of the Valhalla. I am alone, as is Bryn." Bryn felt herself flinch at the bluntness of his words, "Her family was slaughtered along with the rest of them."

"Is this true?" Odin asks her suddenly, drawing all eyes onto her yet again.

Bryn opened her mouth, out of habit more than anything. But the words would not come to her. She felt her jaw moving , slowly, trying to articulate the words. But there was nothing.

It frustrated her beyond imagining. It had been so long since she had uttered a single sound. She still found herself trying to on occasions, but always failed. Just as she was failing now.

" Is there no one who would be worried for you? No husband? No Children?" Odin questioned, oblivious to her struggle.

For some reason her cheeks heated at that. A Husband? Yes she was of marrying age and had been for some years now, but she had never had the opportunity... because of what had happened.

It made a bitter lump drop into the pit of her being. As for children? Oh, yes. She had had many of them; though not in blood, but by bond. And she had loved every single one of them. They had been her life, her purpose.

And now, they too were gone...

"When my father speaks it is polite that you answer." It was snapped, and Bryn's eyes flashed up to the golden haired man standing beside his father.

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry at the fire in the large man's blue eyes; demanding her to speak. Though somewhat handsome and fair; he was broad and appeared hard all over including his bearded face. He was intimidating.

"She cannot speak." It was Thren that came to her rescue, " She is... mute. And like Borik, she has no one. We have been captives for many winters, she was taken when she was but a young girl, barely of age."

Frigga gave a nod of her head in understanding. Her gentleness comforting. Bryn wanting nothing more than to trust them, to trust this woman who was reaching her delicate hand out to her in welcome and friendship.

The ache in Bryn's side was reminding her that she needed to rest. She was so tired. Exhaustion was making it difficult to stand. He legs trembled and she found herself leaning gently against Thren's side. As she did so her eyes slid slowly over the queens shoulder to meet the green eyes of the silent figure behind her. So bright and sharp.

Loki lowered towards the golden head of the queen and whispered something to her, all the while holding Bryn's gaze. An uneasiness washed over her. Frigga listened and then her focus once again fell over them, as though considering something.

What had he said to her?

" Then stay with us." it was spoken forth so suddenly that it took everyone by surprise. Frigga stepped forward and smiled "There is more than enough room for you here."

That is not what any of them was expecting. Bryn and her companions cast unsure and uncertain glances to one another.

" Indeed. You are welcome to stay with us," Odin joined, " For as long as necessary until we are sure it is safe for you to return back to Vanaheim."

"Father," Thor spoke up, " Are you sure you mean to do this? We do not even know them..."

" I know them as brothers and sisters in need. This is my doing, I wish to heal the damage that has been done. It is but a small gift I can offer to you, if you will accept it."

The reality of it began to sink into Bryn's mind. They were offering them a home; temporary or permanent, which ever they desired. Such a thing was a great honour, to be offered sanctuary into Asgard.

" You need not answer now." Frigga motioned with a wave of her hand; the healers at the entrance stepped forward and before any of them could answer they were being ushered away further into the palace, " Rest, think about our offering. There is always tomorrow to make a decision. Our healers are very skilled and will take care of you."

Bryn felt as though she was in a wave of emotion. Kindness. They were showing them such kindness it made her want to cry. Her body longed so much for what they offered, the very thought of having a decent meal and some well deserved rest was encouraging her to follow the women leading them towards the stone archway. She was in such dream like state she did not realise that when they passed through into the open hallway that Thren and her other male companions were being urged into the opposite direction from her.

She paused, anxious, as she met Thren's gaze; uncertain of what was happening.

"I will see you soon, Bryn," he said, " Be at ease."

" I am afraid you cannot be with them, child." Bryn turned as one of the healers spoke to her, " It would be most unsuitable to have a young maiden amongst the men. We have a separate room for you, if you would but follow us."

Slowly, Bryn relented, and she was eventually led into a small room. It was beautifully decorated; Though simply designed. It was circular in shape. With drapes of the finest golden silk hanging from wall to pillared wall. At the far end was a huge archway leading to a balcony that overlooked the beauty that was the palace grounds and gardens. Just beside that, a silken covered bed.

Bryn paused at that. Her eyes widening.

A real bed.

With enough pillows and blankets enough to bury her. It was so large, Bryn knew she would look like a small child sleeping in it. How many years had it been since she had slept in one? Or even seen one? How many long years of drifting away on a solid, hard, cold stone?

" Come," The older of the women urged her towards another door to the left, " This will be your room for a while. My name is Aida and this... " she gestured to her two companions, "... is Fiorna and Ghaela. We have a hot bath prepared for you and some clothes that we believe may fit you."

The youngest, Ghaela, stepped forward with a smile, reaching for Bryn, " Come I will help you undress and then..."

Panic rushed up into her throat and before she could stop herself, Bryn shot back and away from the young woman's seeking hands. Ghaela paused, hesitant it seemed. She cast a glance to the eldest, Aida, as if unsure of how to proceed.

Aida simply shook her head and then turned to Bryn, smiling coaxingly.

" All is well, child. The bathing room is through there," Bryn followed her gesture towards an archway at the other end of the room, " We will allow you to bathe yourself, if it is what you prefer. We will leave some sleeping attire for you on the bed. We will leave you, but we will need to assess your injuries in the morning."

Bryn, as though realising that their intention was to examine her, began to shake her head.

" I am sorry," Aida spoke, " This is something that we must do. It is our duty as healers to take care of you. You have many wounds that may become infectious if left unattended."

Bryn simply stood there, torn of what to do. They were unmovable on the subject.

The three healers turned, and without a word left the chamber. Leaving Bryn to her troubled thoughts.

She moved tentatively to the archway she had been directed to and peeked around the edge to the room within. Steam rose up to meet her and she cast her gaze across the wide expanse of a bath that was so big she could possibly swim in it.

Carefully, Bryn slid off her plain shift and let it fall to the floor at her feet. She stepped out of it and towards the tiled steps that lowered into the crystalline clear water that waited for her. The moment her foot submerged itself into the searing heat she wanted to gasp in pleasure.

One step, two step. Then another and then another. Until all at once she was encased by a rippling blanket of warmth and comfort. Its seeped into her body, her very soul, removing the coldness that lingered in her. She used her small hands, slowly at first as she tried to cup the water in her hands and pour it over her aching body. Washing away the grime, the stench, the smell... the memories. Her hands became more wild more desperate. Feeling tears well in her eyes, and satisfaction seep into her bones as she watched the darkened water float away and dissolve into nothingness.

It was over. It was all over. They were free. She was free.

A noise erupted within the chamber, echoing. And then another, and then another. A whimper. Bryn was taken aback, until she realised the sound was coming from herself. She had made such a sound, with her own mouth. All at once, like huge wave of emotion, she began to weep. Gasping, gut wrenching sobs. Both in remembrance and in revelation. She cried until she had nothing left to give, and exhaustion was her only companion. When the tears finally stopped did she pull herself from the chilling water.

With her short hair still wet, she dressed herself in the silken night shift that was left for her. Bryn felt herself yawn.

Carefully, almost unsure, she lowered herself onto the bed, feeling it dip underneath her slight frame. She crawl here way up it and pulled back the soft covers. She burrowed herself within them. The sensation foreign to her.

Once fairly settled, she allowed the growing dimness of the chamber to encase her. Trying to encourage her mind to sleep.

But it just did not feel right. She turned this way and that, trying to get comfortable in the mass of sheets and pillows. They were soft, almost too soft. To the point were she felt stifled, suffocated with the amount of material surrounding her. It felt wrong. Unnatural.

Without a sound she gathered the sheet about her frame and rolled out of the bed and gently lowered herself onto the tiled floor. Its hardness a familiar sensation against her body. She curled herself up tightly and pulled the sheets further around her shoulders.

It did not take long. Her eyes began to drift as the world around began to fall away. The darkness began to close in around her, Bryn could feel her heartbeat begin to slow. Her breathing evened out as sleep began to creep up and into her.

But not before a single thought entered her mind.

And that was, that for once she looked forward to tomorrow. Because tomorrow included a world. A world that no longer filled her with pain and terror...

But a world of freedom, of kindness; without any pain or suffering.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

-o-o-o-

Bryn sighed, revelling in the peacefulness, the tranquillity and newfound freedom. Light flitted through the leaves of the trees above her, warming her as she slowly walked across the cooling lush grass of the palace gardens. The realm itself was burning brightly, reaching out to her in welcome with burning hues of gold and white. With crystalline waters and life in every breath; Asgard was beauty to behold indeed. There were no words for it. Bryn was taken aback once again by its magnificence as she leisurely wandered through the open gardens. Its entirety was a symbol, an everlasting sign of life; of the wilting of the old and the regrowth of the new. Never before had she seen such perfection in a single place. Never before had she felt such serenity, a place that could soothe the soul just by standing amongst its splendour.

It had been many days now since she had come here with Thren and the others. Within that time Bryn had never tasted and savoured the richness of life as she had in these moments. The Queen, Frigga, had given strict orders for Bryn to rest, but every morning she would wake to a world that was open and free for the taking. Bryn did not waste a single moment of it. Every morning she would take a hot bath, she would even use a comb to brush her short hair with; a strange simple action that she oddly took much satisfaction from doing. These were such simple tasks, yet Bryn felt like a lady of such luxury. Each morning a maid would come bearing gifts of honeyed bread and warm goats milk, which she savoured, for it had been so long since she had tasted anything so sweet and delicious. The young woman would comment about Bryn's strange preference of sleeping upon the floor, but would never push the issue or force her to move into the bed, much to Bryn's relief. Some habits will die hard, it would seem.

The days would be spent however Bryn pleased. She could explore for hours, sleep, draw, watch the world go by, and even meet with Thren and the others who had taken to training with some of the other Asgardian men. This time, however, was her favourite part of the day. She loved to simply walk, to feel the wind on her skin, to hear the birds sing and the tree's rustling above her head.

_It's all so very beautiful_, she thought as she passed beneath a low hanging apple tree, reaching up to gently pluck a ripened fruit from its offering branch. Her teeth sank into it and her eyes closed, savouring it. Tasting its texture, its succulent juices rolling across her taste buds, making her…

The low rumbling of voices in the distance caused her to pause. It was followed by a clang of metal upon metal in a sharp, violent sound that rang straight to Bryn's ears. The noise came again, followed by the low grunting of men in the distance.

" Go on, Fandral! He's weakening!"

Apple forgotten, Bryn found her feet moving in the direction of the commotion. What was happening? The grunts came again, followed by the slashing of blades. _Fighting. Someone was fighting._ Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest, her stomach dropping in a sensation she could only describe as dread and fear.

Her legs moved her forward, stopping within a shadowed arch before an open stone courtyard. Her eyes widened and took in the scene that was revealed to her.

" What's this? You said you wanted to spar, not roll around in the dirt, Volstagg. Have you been drinking again?"

It was the fair haired warrior, the one they had called 'Fandral' who stood at the middle of the yard, sword in hand, staring in an almost bored fashion at the brute of a man in front of him. Said brutish man, Volstagg, glared at the younger male before straightening from his fallen crouch.

With ease the bearded one lifted his huge axe in his hands and pointed its sharp head at his smirking opponent, "Your cheek will be the end of you. I merely lost my balance, that is all."

Low laughter hummed around the clearing and it was in that moment the Bryn realised they were not alone. Glancing briefly around, she recognised the others that watched them. The broad Prince Thor stood at one side, watching them with his other companions, Hogan the grim and the raven haired warrioress, Sif. Whatever the two fighting males had been doing had obviously been amusing to them. Despite the ferocity in which the duo charged at each other, they did not seem at all concerned with the fight. If anything, they almost looked like they were watching two squabbling children, rather than a grappling pair of fully grown men.

"Go easy on him, Fandral." Thor spoke up, grinning at them both, " He's looking as though he is about to faint. He has not eaten a single morsel since he picked up his axe."

They all laughed again, which was rewarded with an ominous growl from the larger warrior.

Intrigued, Bryn moved closer to one of columns beside her, wanting to get a closer look. The shadows surrounded her from their sight as she watched them. The handsome one, Fandral was quick and precise with his movements. Whilst the bigger one, Volstagg, was slower but more powerful. His strong arms wielding the heavy axe with such dexterity, that all it would take is one hit and the fight would be over. The small crowd around them applauded as Volstagg managed to knock the blade out of the Fandral's hands, but he was quick enough to dive for it before being struck.

" Come on old man, you're getting slower with each passing day." Fandral goaded.

"I'll give you old man..."

Weapons forgotten, the two grappled each other to the ground. Kicking up dust as they rolled around, trying to gain the upper hand on one another. They were equally matched, both as good in battle as the other. Yet at the same time there was a playfulness about them. Even though they spouted threats to one another, Bryn could see they were very close friends and meant no true harm to one another.

" Stop pulling on my beard!" Came a disgruntled bellow from the tangle of limbs.

" Get off me, you great oaf! Admit your defeat!" came the reply.

" Perhaps you should give up on the cockiness, boy, it is fooling no one!"

" Yes, well, perhaps you should give up on the meat and ale because you weigh a tonne!"

" Why, you arrogant little..."

The others were chuckling along at them and before she could stop herself, Bryn's lips began to lift up slowly into a smile. She could feel the silent laughter bubbling up from within her belly.

She glanced around to each of them in turn and was all of a sudden taken aback by a startling pair of green eyes watching her from the other side of the courtyard. The joy clogged in her throat…

For there, sat upon the stone cloistered bench of the archway was the second Prince, Loki. He wore his usual attire of dark emeralds and midnight blacks. His booted legs stretched out across the marbled seat, his back to a column. A book lay open but long forgotten, resting against his lap. He appeared indifferent, as if uninterested in the behaviour of his fellow companions.

His eyes watched Bryn silently, levelled on her with an intensity that was beyond the simple, friendly curiosity the others had shown to her. It was almost eerie. So stark and blatant that it made heat rush up into her face. Bryn had to look away from him, unable to hold the contact. She felt the overbearing need to take a step back further into the protection of the shadows. She wanted to do anything to get away from his prying gaze.

" Good Morrow, Bryndolyn."

A familiar feminine voice greeted from behind her. Bryn turned to find the golden Queen, Frigga, standing nought but a few steps away, smiling at her. The long folds of her silken gown trailing behind her as she approached closer.

Taken aback, Bryn dipped her head in respect and greeting.

" How fare you this beautiful morning?" She asked.

Bryn smiled at her, rewarding her with a slight nod. She spoke not a word, but the meaning was understood. Since the very beginning Frigga had been kind to her and had taken her under her wing. The gentleness of her words and eyes was enough to make any feeling soul flock to her, her brightness simply drew everyone to her.

" I am glad to see you are getting some fresh air and have taken to walking about the gardens." Her wise eyes fell across to the scuffling pair, before shaking her head and said, " I have been looking for you. Come." Frigga reached for Bryns hand and looped it through her arm, drawing her away from the crowd and back towards the palace. "Let us walk together, I wish to discuss something with you."

Bryn followed her, curious, but not before glancing back at the small group. They all clapped as the two fighting males broke apart and shook hands in friendly agreement.

Bryn's eyes turned almost hesitantly again to the dark haired prince, who was still sitting on the bench, watching them walk away. Something inside of her told her to look away, but the instant their gazes met, she was caught. This time she found she could not look away from him, even if the gods demanded it so. His bright eyes seemed to hold her there, delving deeply. There was something both unpleasant and beguiling about them.

And it was eerily unsettling.

His lips moved then, curving up slowly into a sly smirk. Bryn's breath caught in her throat, the pit of her belly rolling with both unease and unexpected pleasure of how attractive he was when he smiled; even when it was a cold one.

Bryn lowered her gaze and turned her head away only to find the Queen looking at her with a strange expression.

"You stare at my son most intently, my dear," Frigga spoke as they continued to walk towards the palace and away from view, "Does he catch your interest?"

Bryn paused suddenly, pulling Frigga to a halt beside her. Fire seared up her neck and cheeks at what the Queen was insinuating. Bryn's mouth opened, her lips moving, trying to find the words as she shook her head with great resolution.

The Queens eyes twinkled at her. "I can see why. He is rather handsome is he not?" She whispered down to her, delighting it seems in seeing Bryn flounder for some form of reply. "They both are. As you can imagine, as their mother, I am very proud of the men they have both become."

They continued to walk, following the path up to a wide set of marble steps that led up into the palace. Its great magnificent stone archways stood tall and almost imposing. Like a secret doorway into the unknown, only what lay beyond was beauty and safety. Instead of heading inside, the Queen turned and carried on walking through the surrounding cloisters. Before them lay the open world of the golden realm and the eternal skies beyond. A single structure stood obvious against its black canvas, a beacon of light against the vastness of stars and space.

The rainbow bridge that led into other worlds only told about in stories.

The Bifröst.

"It is beautiful, isn't it." Bryn turned to find the Queen gazing at it, her eyes reflecting its dazzling light and colour. " It is quite the vision." She sighed deeply, her voice light with awe and wonder. " I never get tired of looking it. Sometimes we get so used to seeing it that we forget to stop and gaze at it in wonder. At the wonder that is Asgard... our home."

Bryn flinched, feeling a sharp stab in her chest at that one single word. She turned her head to stare out at the huge bridge and the dome shaped architecture beyond. A wistfulness filled her, causing her throat to grow tighter. Her hand unconsciously tightened upon the arm that was linked through hers.

The Queen turned to her suddenly, as though just seeing her now for the first time. Her face was a mirror, reflecting the sadness Bryn felt back at her. "You, yourself, wish to know of home, no doubt?"

Bryn lowered her eyes briefly and swallowed the lump in her throat.

Home. It was what everyone craved and desired above all things. It was where family was, yet she no longer had a family anymore. Did she even have a _home_ to go to any more? With a heaviness she looked up at the skies that surrounded the two of them and the universe that expanded beyond. So wide and so large a universe, but one that had no meaning or place for her. Not any more.

"Bryndolyn," Frigga stepped to stand before her, clasping her hand gently, "I do have some news for you... Of Vanaheim."

Hope flared in Bryn's chest.

" It has reached us that Vanaheim is safe and unharmed."

Bryn could have shouted in joy if she could, instead a brilliant smile spread itself across her face in stark relief, her eyes bright with the joy that lay within.

"The king has decided to keep some of our own there to guard it, should there be any future attacks. There is much damaged to be repaired, but I think with our help we can rebuild what was once lost and you and your friends can return home."

Whatever possessed Bryn in that second, she did not know. But all of a sudden she wrapped her arms around the Queen and pulled her into a tight grip, embracing her with all the thanks and gratitude she could muster. The Queen, though startled at first, burst out into sudden laughter and returned the gesture. When they pulled away from each other, Bryn's vision was blurred with tears and through them she could see Frigga smiling almost sadly at her.

" I am so very sorry Bryn for what you have been through."

Bryn shook her head passionately, wiping her face with the sleeve of her gown before lowering her head to kiss the Queens hand.

In all the years she had not spoken a word, now was a moment she truly wished that she could. She wanted to cry out in joy. _No, I am happy! She would have said. So very happy! Thank you! Thank you so much!_

A hand at her chin caused her to lift her face. "You have a big heart." Frigga said, " It is a shame you will have no one waiting for your return. You are always welcome to stay, if it is what you wish... Remember that."

Bryn nodded.

Frigga gave a sudden sound of surprise. " Oh! Which reminds me. I have... somewhat of a gift for you."

Bryn frowned, the question evident on her face as she tilted her head in curiosity. _A gift? For me?_ It had been so long since she had been given anything like a present, she had only been a girl the last time her father had given her a doll for her naming day. The memory was so vague to her, she had almost forgotten what it was like… until now.

" I have found something that may be of some help to you." Frigga explained, " A skill in which I think will be of use considering your..." She paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully before saying. "... disadvantage."

Leaving no room for Bryn to ponder on the comment, the Queen suddenly lifted her hands and moved them around in a swift but elegant motion of movement.

Bryn frowned at her, perplexed. The Queen smiled at her expression.

" It is called 'linguani'" She continued to explain. " Or as those from Midgard call it... 'sign'."

Still nonplussed, Bryn looked between the Queens gliding hands to her aged, but still beauty filled features.

" It is a form of communication." She made another quick gesture before saying. "We can use hand gestures, body and facial expressions to converse with others, without having the need to verbally speak."

There was a brief pause before she said. "I will teach you this, if you would like?"

Curiosity got the better of Bryn, and she watched the Queens moving hands with eagerness, trying to already memorise the motions to the words that were being spoken. Could she really do it? Could she really be taught how to speak again? Well, not perhaps verbally, but through body movement and these strange hand signals? It was more than Bryn could comprehend, but at the same time a hidden thorn in her mind stabbed at her, her excitement dying swiftly as she considered it further. But who would understand me? Who would I speak to? Other than the Queen, nobody else would know of such a language.

As if her doubt had spread across her face like paint upon a canvas, the Queen spoke.

" There are a few here that know of this type of language, including myself. We could talk like this, you and I. It would be our little secret, yes?"

Their little secret? The thought was encouraging. It would be nice, Bryn decided, if she could at least talk to one person. She would try very hard and be a most eager student.

Again, though, doubt grew in her mind.

"Do you think that just because you cannot speak that you have no right to express your thoughts and feelings?" Frigga asked suddenly. "You have the right, Bryndolyn, as much as anyone else, even if it is just to me."

There was a moment in which Bryn was silent, considering. It took only a few seconds before she was slowly nodding in agreement, accepting the challenge that lay ahead of her.

" Good." the Queen smiled suddenly, before leading her to a nearby stone bench, gesturing for her to sit. "We shall begin now. We will start from the beginning, with something simple. Now, watch me closely."

Once seated, Frigga moved her hands yet again, slowly emphasizing the sweeping motion of her palms and distinctive signalling of her slender fingers.

" This is '_good morning'_."

-o-o-o-

Later, when all daily routines had finished and the palace had settled for the evening, Bryn found herself back in the palace gardens once again, as though drawn to it. After spending many hours listening and learning with great intensity to the Queens lessons, she was finding herself tired and need of rest. After a quick meal, one that consisted of her practising her newfound words under the table, Bryn had forced herself to wander back outside. She was hesitant to be confined into her room when she could be outside, under the free and beautiful sky. No amount of tiredness could pull her away from it.

Pausing mid step beneath the apple tree once again, she looked around to be sure she was alone, before tilting her head up at the darkened space above her. She lifted her hands above her head, her arms stretching high as her fingers made various swoops and signals.

_Sky._

Her movements looked awkward and unsure, and anyone passing by would have probably thought she was conjuring some kind of spell. She was so fully focused on her hands that she cared not if others watched her, or made fun of her. The Queen had given her a new ability, a power to speak without needing words. It was like being a child again, learning something new, something exciting. Bryn was hungry for it, for this knowledge and power.

Word by word and letter by letter Bryn had soaked up every piece of information that Frigga had instructed her in. Even when the Queen had hinted that they should stop, Bryn had disagreed with a passion.

_"Perhaps we have learned enough for one day?" The Queen had said, placing her book aside. "Shall we continue this another day?"_

_No!_

_Bryn could not have signed the word quickly enough, before pushing the large tome back into her tutor's gentle hands. _

_At the Queens confused frown, Bryn continued. _

_No... Please... More..._

And so they had carried on late into the evening until the King, Odin, had sent out some servants to seek out his wife for their evening meal in the hall. Bryn had followed and joined them, but had found herself far too restless to retire to her rooms afterwards.

Her feet were bare as she let the cool grass slip between her toes. The cool open air brushed against her face, soothing her mind. In the distance she could hear birds singing to one another, calling for their mates before roosting up for the night. The tinkling of water nearby was soft and lulling in the quietening night. The stars glittered and shined from high above.

She lifted her hands once again and began to practice.

_Bird._

Her fingers danced, signalling to the night sky and the low gathering branches of the trees and its fruit.

_Apples._

It did not look right, so she tried the word again, pleased with herself when it looked better the second time. The night around her was almost like a background against her pale skin, it stood out in stark relief.

_Stars._

Bryn felt like a weight had lifted from her shoulders. Like a darkened cloud had suddenly rolled overhead and was now far away into the distance. She was filled with content and a calmness she had not felt in so many years.

Her hands moved, knowing this word very well, it was her favourite so far.

_Happy._

Bryn smiled. Yes, she was very happy. So happy in fact that she wanted to learn as many words as quickly as possible so that she could tell the world about how complete she felt. Of how free she felt. Of how much she missed home. Of how grateful she was for their kindness. Of how...

Something flashed in the corner of her vision and she lowered hands and turned her head, gazing up at a stone balcony situated above her. It was dim, but she could just make out the solid blackness of a person standing within.

Curious, Bryn stepped closer, eyes narrowing to look closely at the figure that was slowly moving closer to the edge of the balcony. She paused just under the edge of the protection of the trees that were keeping her covered from sight. The person moved further into her range of sight and she stiffened slightly when she recognised who it was.

The short black hair. The dark attire and pale skin.

Prince Loki slid from the shadows, his attention focussed so intently on something in his gloved hand that he did not notice Bryn watching him from beneath the foliage.

Some small part told her to walk away quietly, to return to her room and retire for the night, but for some reason she found herself unable to move. Her eyes, widened, and looked closer at what it was that had such ardent focus from him.

No, not a something, it was not an object, but a strange glow of light. Flickering streams of shining tendrils wrapped and slithered around his slowly dancing fingers, as though it were a snake dancing under some unheard compelling melody. He weaved it this way and that, its brightness growing in intensity, growing in size, forming shifting shapes.

_Magic_.

Bryn knew the prince was capable of such abilities, but never had she seen in such a blatant and solid form before. As though it were a living entity, bound and controlled by his will.

Such magic was dangerous and frowned upon in most realms. In Vanaheim, it was only considered dark and used only for ill intentions. She had caught a glimpse of it briefly upon her arrival in Asgard, when the dark prince had disarmed Thren so effortlessly. Such power and ability alone had kept her at a safe distance away from the prince, knowing what he was capable of, of the threat he could pose.

But now, as Bryn watched the young Prince wield it between his nimble fingertips, she found herself drawn. Like some silent voyeur watching a precious and intimate moment, she felt her heartbeat quicken, her skin tingling as she saw the strange stillness that cast over his dark form, his pale features.

Long moments passed, and Bryn felt as though she could have stood there forever just admiring the moment, admiring him.

The glowing ripples swayed, twisting suddenly, curling in on itself before slowly taking the shape of a large winged bird. A crow.

Impossible.

Bryn gasped, and took a step back. A stray branch stabbed into her foot as it snapped loudly under her weight.

Alarmed, she looked down at the source of the sound and then lifted her head back up only to find a pair of almost glowing emerald eyes looking down at her. Bryn froze, trapped underneath that probing gaze. Like a thief caught stealing the King's precious gems, she could do nothing but stand there, still.

The slightest furrowing of his brows was the only indication of his displeasure across his veiled alabaster features.

Heart racing, she moved away further under the protection of the trees until her back hit the roughened bark. She turned towards the steps leading back into the palace, contemplating making a dash for sanctuary.

A loud screech of a bird met her ears and she turned just in time to see a flash of black skim beside her head, the soft brush of feathered wings against her face, the light breeze ruffling her short hair. Startled, she shot back further against the tree just as the crow flew up and settled itself amongst the thick branches, a few leaves falling down around her.

Bryn heard a quiet noise, a low chuckle coming from above her.

Her eyes rose and clashed with the Princes. Loki was all but smirking down at her, leaning a narrow hip against the balustrade. He was taking great pleasure, it seemed, at seeing her try to hide from him.

With hands gripping the trunk of the tree for dear life, she waited, wondering if he would chastise her for spying on him.

As if on cue, Loki lifted his hand and Bryn leapt away when she felt something long and heavy slither its way across her shoulder. A soft hiss sounded in her ear. A moving mass of sleek rippling scales rolled its way across her skin.

She gave a silent whimper of terror, her face contorting in panic as she batted at herself with wild hands, trying to rid the serpent from her being. Thinking of nothing else, she turned and darted for the palace steps, her nightdress billowing as she fled as though the devil himself was chasing her.

Even as she bounded her way up the stone steps and sped up and into her room. Even as she, with heavy breaths, slammed the door closed and pressed her back to it. She could still feel the serpent's weight ghosting against her, feel it rubbing against her arms, her neck, her cheek. The soft warble of the crow. The mocking laughter of the prince echoing hauntingly across her mind.


End file.
