*

Loki yawned widely but he kept his eyes shut, intending to get a few more minutes of sleep while he still could. The night before had been nothing but restless tossing back and forth, attempting to rest and only dozing off for a few minutes. He reached out to wrap his arms around Maeve, but she was nowhere to be found.

His eyes flew open and he sat straight up, panic rising in his chest. She wasn't lying in bed next to him and she wasn't sitting in front of the fire. Daggers appeared in his hands without a second thought as he stumbled out of bed.

He couldn't even begin to comprehend how this happened. Every night, he slept with her in his embrace. How was she gone?

"Maeve?!"

A surprised shriek from the attached bathroom filled him with both relief and concern, but mostly relief. The knives clattered to the stone floor and he rushed over to the door just as she opened it.

"You scared me!" She said indignantly, pulling her robe more tightly around herself. She looked paler than usual, and cold sweat glistened on her face.

"You scared me! I thought that-" He fumbled with his words, which was very unlike him. Usually, words were his strong suit, but he struggled to find the right ones. "I woke up and you weren't there."

Wordlessly, Maeve pulled him into a tight hug that he didn't know he needed. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the faint scent of flowers that somehow always lingered around her, and made himself breathe again.

He felt her tense up suddenly. Pulling away, he said, "Maeve-"

"I'm going to be sick," she muttered, running back into the bathroom, barely making it on time before she vomited into the toilet. It all clicked in Loki's mind and he knelt down next to her. "You can... you can go back to bed, if... you want."

"I'm staying right here with you," he said soothingly, holding back her blonde curls and rubbing comforting circles on her back. "Just get it all out. I'm here."

After a few minutes that felt like an eternity, Maeve leaned back, breathing deeply in an attempt to catch her breath. The naseua was gone, but she felt more exahusted than ever, almost like she had thrown up the few hours of sleep she had managed to get in.

"Do you feel any better?" Loki asked quietly, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes with a gentle hand. She nodded and he immediately detected her lie but made no comment. "Are you feeling up to standing up?"

"In a minute." Maeve gave him a thin smile. "Good morning, by the way."

"Morning," he replied after pressing a kiss to her forehead and helping her to her feet. "Watch those, careful."

He kicked the daggers to the side, causing her eyebrows to raise in amusement.

"Were the knives really necessary?"

"Of course they were," Loki said innocently. A mischievous twinkle appeared in his sleepy green eyes. "I was saving you."

"Good job. I'm saved."

A knock startled them both. Loki vanished both of the daggers, though Maeve knew he could summon them at a second's notice. When they opened the door, though, it was only the Jotun boy who had brought them dinner the night before.

"Good morning," he squeaked, bowing so low to the ground that he nearly fell. His cheeks deepened to a purple color, which Maeve assumes to be the Jotun equivalent to blushing. "Lord Aegir requests your presence for breakfast. He asks Your Highnesses to come out of your room when you're dressed."

"Thank you," Loki said formally.

The boy almost bolted away instantly, but Maeve stopped him. "What's your name?"

His big red eyes widened. Her heart filled with pity, wondering how long it had been since someone asked him. For a moment, she didn't even think he would answer at all.

"B-Barði," he finally managed to get out.

"Thank you, Barði," Maeve said with a soft smile. "You can tell Aegir that my husband and I will be ready shortly."

Barði's blush deepened, then he scurried away, tripping as he ran.

"You certainly have a way with children," Loki commented as he shut the door. A look of concentration crossed his face as his nightclothes shimmered away, replaced by a set of formal Asgardian robes. The pair had decided against packing clothes, reasoning that using magic was simply easier.

"It's because I'm small. They relate to me."

"Or you're just a kind person. Whichever." Loki looked into the mirror. He began to smooth his hair back, but Maeve stopped him.

"It looks nicer loose," she insisted, getting on her tiptoes to run her fingers through his black locks. "Don't make it stick to your head."

He grinned. "As my lady wishes. Do you have any requests for your own outfit?"

Maeve considered his question. "Purple."

With a simple flick of Loki's wrist, her robe transformed into a dark purple gown. A sheer cape of a lighter shade flowed out behind her.

"You should just be Asgard's fashion designer or something," Maeve joked, getting up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome, my love," he purred, tilting her chin up. He looked as if he was going to kiss her, but instead just rested his forehead against hers. The simple contact calmed both of them.

"We should go," she whispered.

"We should."

Without the warmth of a roaring fire, the hallways were cold. Even indoors, they could hear the howl of the unforgiving wind whip around the palace outside. The Asgardian couple greeted Asmund and Gale, who were already standing outside when they arrived. Barði ran over a few minutes later to take them to breakfast.

Once again, they were not alone. Upon arrival, Maeve noticed that every seat at the table except four were taken. The giants wore pants with no shirts, but some wore armor over their chests. Many had markings tattooed on their blue skin. The giantesses wore outfits that reminded her of Lady Sif's ensemble, all in dark colors. She felt especially small with their eyes on her and stuck close to Loki, who maintained his mask of indifference as he sat down.

"Good morning," Aegir greeted. "I hope you found your accommodations comfortable."

"Indeed," Loki said, leaning back ever so slightly in his chair. To an outsider, he was the picture of calm, but Maeve could sense his apprehension. "Will King Laufey be joining us for the meal, my lord?"

The Frost Giant laughed. Maeve thought it was the first time she had seen him do so. "He has other matters to preside over in the morning, but you shall meet him soon. Until then, he implores you to enjoy the food and the company."

Asmund's smile was soft and reserved, so unlike his father's obnoxiously enthusiastic one. He knew that the Jotuns were watching him as much as they watched the others, perhaps even more so, with his coronation in the upcoming months. They were looking to secure an alliance, at least that was his theory. And if this meeting went well, he might just allow it.

"Well," Asmund said humbly, "we shall be honored to meet him."

Everyone dug into the food. She thought it would be wise to eat, especially considering she had no idea when the opportunity would come again, but most of the dishes looked distinctly unappetizing to her. It seemed that food was very different here, just like everything else. Instead, she stuck to fruit and listened to the conversation, playing the part of obedient little wife to collect bits and pieces of information. It always worked.

One of the only giantesses in attendance fixed her attention on Loki, which made Maeve kind of want to strangle her with a vine, but there weren't vines in the Jotunheim, and even if there were, that course of action wouldn't exactly be wise.

"Dýrfinna," Aegir scolded, his voice quiet but harsh.

"Aegir," she spit back, smiling maliciously at him. She is beautiful, Maeve thought, with her sharp jawline and black hair that falls past her waist.

"Stop your ridiculous staring at the prince. You make his woman uncomfortable. I see it in her eyes. They're like twin blue flames."

Maeve immediately dropped her gaze to her plate. Under the table, Loki's hand grasped hers. It was strangely cold.

"Dýrfinna can look as much as she wants," Loki said smoothly, the ghost of a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips. He lifted Maeve's hand and kissed it. "Her obvious interest does not change the fact that I belong to another."

"Of... of course," Dýrfinna stammered as the entirety of her face turned purple. A few of the Frost Giants chuckled at her predicament, while some silently judged her forwardness.

"How do you find ruling the Vanir, Your Highness?" One of the Frost Giants asked. He wore a necklace of bones on his bare chest. "My name is Petrus."

Asmund took a sip from his goblet before answering. In truth, he was stalling for time as he thought. "It is better than working under my father," he answered carefully, "but I am not king yet."

"Good riddance," another laughed. "Frey should have been removed years ago. He was nothing but a tyrant who hid behind his palace walls."

"I suppose that's how the treaty came about, Randgnid," Aegir replied. "Frey wanted to exploit Asgard's strength, and now the bond between the two realms is the strongest in all the nine realms." He turned to Loki and Maeve. "How long have you been wed now?"

"Let's see... three months?" Loki looked at Maeve for confirmation.

"Three, almost four," she said, glad to be speaking again. "And it's been wonderful." Mostly.

"You should consider yourselves blessed," Randgnid said. His voice was deeper than the others'. "To have found love through circumstance. Here, all of our important marriages are arranged."

Asmund's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Just like the rest, he wanted to gather as much information as possible. Stroking his chin, he asked, "Really?"

"Yes. It is how our bloodlines remain strong," one of the Jotuns said.

Maeve instantly detected his charisma, a trait that many of the other giants lacked. Though a bit smaller than most, he looked more impressive than the others. Most likely he had more money or status. His dark hair fell loosely around his attractive face. He was seated at the right hand of Aegir, and unlike most of his companions, he wore a black cape.

"I haven't introduced myself yet, but I was unable to join you last night for a formal welcome. I do apologize for this. My help was required elsewhere. I am Bjarke Laufeyson."

This bit of information took all four visitors by surprise. Maeve's forehead creased. Never had Odin ever mentioned Laufey having a son. It shouldn't have surprised her. Everyone needed an heir.

"A pleasure," Gale said in a quiet voice with a warm smile, saving the other three from their shock. "It was very kind of your father to invite us."

Bjarke nodded out of respect to her. "He considers it an honor, Princess. He was very interested to meet the future rulers of your realms."

A shadow darkened Loki's face. "I believe you are mistaken, Your Highness," he said. "I do not believe that my wife and I are in line to rule Asgard."

"Ah," Bjarke said, drawing out the syllable. "Has Odin chosen his firstborn already?"

"No, but Thor is his likely choice," Loki replied, an edge to his voice. Maeve squeezed his hand, reminding him to stay calm even though they discussed a very touchy subject.

Snickers swept around the table at the mention of Thor. A frown pursed on Maeve's lips, but she said nothing. Instead, Asmund did.

"Is there a reason you all are laughing?" He asked, a humorous trace in his blue eyes. "Tell us, so that we may laugh, too."

Bjarke laughed out loud. "It is funny and curious," he began, "that Odin would choose his firstborn to be his heir, yet he sends his secondborn to perform the duties of a king. It is funny that the secondborn already has a wife and is still not to be king with that queen at his side. Does it bother you at all, Your Highness?"

A pit of dread settled in Maeve's stomach. Whether Bjarke meant to or not, he was playing right on Loki's insecurities, pushing him closer to a breaking point. She couldn't afford for him to snap.

"My brother-in-law finds himself busy with the care of our own realm, a job he excels at," Maeve heard herself lie. "The Allfather has not yet chosen an heir, and I am sure he will not for some time. There is no matter pressing enough for him to step down anytime soon. We are all satisfied to help serve him and the nine realms however we can."

Many of the Frost Giants seemed surprised to hear her voice her thoughts so eloquently. Maeve didn't know if she should have felt flattered or insulted.

"So she does speak," Bjarke said, a grin on his face. "Even in exile, we have heard of you, lady."

Maeve took a sip of water to calm her nerves. "Good or bad?"

"Unfortunate. Rumors reached us about how your father was removed from the throne of Vanaheim." What might have been pity crossed his handsome features. "It is unfortunate indeed. Looking at you now, it astonishes me that anyone could stand to harm something so delicate and helpless as you. You truly are a winter blossom, like frost on a flower petal."

Once again, Maeve didn't know how to take his comment. Thankfully, Loki jumped in to come to her aid. His jealousy was getting the best of him again.

"Frey paid for his crimes," he said evenly, "and if he ever laid a hand on her again, I assure you that it would be the last thing he ever did."

"Is it true," Aegir asked Asmund, "that your father imprisoned and tortured you for marrying your lover?"

Asmund's eyes darkened with memories. "He was following our laws and traditions. By law, I had committed treason. That was my choice."

"And yet, here you are," Dýrfinna said.

"Only through the persistence and dedication of the ones who care about me. I am inclined to believe that fate has favored me too much. I am undeserving of the number of blessings bestowed upon me."

"And now, you will be king in a matter of months," Bjarke commented. "It's quite a responsibility."

"I accepted the burden of the throne for the good of my realm," Asmund said slowly, giving Gale a meaningful glance. "I hope to right the wrongs of my father."

Bjarke smiled. "You are quite humble, and your wife has a silent strength. I am sure that your story shall become the folklore that future generations will create art about."

For some reason, Maeve wanted to trust him, even though she knew she it wasn't wise. She had come to the Jotunheim prepared to distrust everyone she encountered, but there was something almost familiar about Bjarke that made her think twice about that. His way with words stunned her. She'd only ever heard one other person use words like he did: Loki. It was uncanny.

Bjarke looked out the window, his red eyes squinting at the clouds. "It is late enough to leave," he said, pushing back his chair and standing with grace. "I will be the one taking you to my father's throne room."

The four visitors followed suit, and Dýrfinna also stood. "My Prince, I could accompany you-"

"That is not necessary, Dýrfinna, but I thank you for offering nonetheless," Bjarke cut over her, his dismissal evident. She sunk back into her chair. "Come."

Maeve walked with her arm linked with Loki's, grateful that their pace was slow, as she was the shortest by far in their group.

"I apologize for Dýrfinna," Bjarke said, shaking his head. "She is quite... forward."

"You don't need to apologize," Asmund assured him. "We all enjoyed the meal."

"Her family is a prominent House here, so she believes she has free reign to do and say as she pleases. It is obvious that she is aiming to be my wife, but I do not intend to marry for quite some time. I have more important matters to focus my energy on." An amused smile appeared on Bjarke's face. "Although I suppose marrying her would get her out of my hair."

"I would think that marriage would make her a permanent fixture in your life," Loki commented, winking at Maeve, who smiled. "That's what I've found, and I'm grateful for it."

"Your realm works differently than ours, though I hear that even Odin Allfather is not entirely tolerant of your behavior." They passed many woven tapestries, depicting war and love and sovereigns of old. "If I marry her, she will stop pestering me about marriage. That sounds quite appealing, now that I think about it."

"You are surprisingly open with us," Loki said, his eyebrows raised in suspicion. "I would have thought you would be reserved, considering the thin ice our realms have been treading on since the war that ended before either of us were born."

Bjarke shrugged. "I personally have nothing to hide. I cannot say whether anyone else you meet here shall be as forward with you as I am, but it is my belief that the Jotunheim hides far less than Asgard does."

Loki actually laughed at this. "Knowing my father, I am sure that you are right."

I had so much fun writing this chapter. Let me know what you thought!