#war creatures

“No, no,” Ser Petra shook his head. “It’s a bit of a complicated story. You see, your mother was in a similar spot where you are now. Her mother surrounded her with comfort, food, and a midwife near her at all times. Apparently, it was tradition to be suspicious and overly-cautious in your family.” I laughed and gesturing to the air. Of course, my mother would put me through the same suffering as herself.

“Please, continue,” I told him, enjoying this story.

“Your mother ended up being so bored because her mother never let her do anything, so your mother held tea parties, hosting different people every week. She often told me I was a pleasurable guest.”

“Tea parties? With everyone?”

“Everyone. Including the kitchen girls who do nothing but gossip about others. Those were her favorite.” Ser Petra smiled at me fondly. “It’s good to see you home and safe. A pregnant woman should never be on the road to war.”

“Yes, I suppose,” I looked away from the table and towards the sky. It wasn’t entirely blue, but it wasn’t going to rain. I knew.

“What’s wrong?”

“Here I am, about to be seven months pregnant, and I have heard nothing of my husband and the war for most of my pregnancy. No one tells me anything. No matter who I have tea with. No one gives me a hint of anything. It’s—

“Maddening,” Ser Petra finished my sentence. He took a look around him and sat closer to me. “May I ask you something? Something very personal?”

“Of course,” I nodded. “You’re like a second father to me.” Ser Petra cracked a smile and sighed.

“I wasn’t thrilled to hear your father say he was planning to marry you off to him. I always wanted you to marry some boring lord somewhere, but I am not your father. When I met him, I was greeted with an arrogant, mean, and highly intelligent teenage boy. I feared he would hurt you or worse hate you slowly from a distance.”

“But, you know that’s different now,” I touched his hand. “He loves me very much.”

“I believe that and I’m relieved,” Ser Petra nodded. “Do you think he’ll make a good king?”

“Oh,” I reacted. “I wasn’t expecting that question.” I started to laugh a little until I saw Petra’s face. His frown and waiting eyes told me he was more serious than I thought. “I believe my answer will be biased.”

“If I believed that, I wouldn’t have asked you. You came into this war with an allegiance to one king, and now you support his son, why? Do you seek power yourself? Do you want to be queen? Would that make you happy?”

“No,” you answered honestly. “I didn’t want to be queen. I had little desire in ruling over people, but then I saw the need. Loki is not the arrogant boy you think he is. He has mercy. He has taught me so much. Therefore, I am not the little naïve girl from Highgarden. I have seen parts of the world that are ugly and beautiful. The Nine Kingdoms deserves better than a man using children for war and using his own people to shield him.”

“And what does the Nine Kingdoms deserve?”

“Someone with love in her heart and another who is aggressive but smarter than his advisors. Ruling would not make me happy, but I will do what the Nine Kingdoms deserves. A good queen and a good king.” I looked at Ser Petra and noted the grays in his beard starting to show.

“You’ve grown up and I blinked,” Ser Petra smiled. He took my hand and placed a chaste kiss on top. “Your husband is alive.”

“What?!” I reacted. Ser Petra shushed me immediately, noting the other royal guards patrolling.

“He won the battle and many other battles after that. I wouldn’t be so cross with him. Your husband has been busy sacking the North entirely. His army has gotten larger with every battle. Dwarves, goblins, frost giants—

“He did it? He has the Frost giants?” I asked. Ser Petra nodded. “Your father is rethinking his original alliance with Odin, but he wanted to wait until after you had your first child. He wanted to see Loki as a father first before he made his final decision.”

“Has Loki sent me anything? Letters? Anything?”

“No,” Ser Petra confirmed. “Again, I wouldn’t be cross with him. Your young king has been busy.”

:Xerxes’ POV:

Every time Xerxes heard Loki’s name come out of anyone’s mouth, he wished he could hurt them. Even as Ser Petra stood in front of him now, giving him directions.

“So, it’s true, he’s marching down here. Why?” Xerxes asked.

“To be with Cecelia,” Ser Petra reported. “She’s going to have his baby after all.” The fire inside Xerxes pit grew louder each time it was fed with the reminder that he could never have Cecelia. It burned him, making him feel incomplete.

“And what are we going to do about that?”

“You said you wanted a chance to hurt Loki for what he did to Cecelia. I’m giving you that chance.” Xerxes laughed and his ears perked up.

“You want me to assassinate him? And what do I get in return?” Xerxes strolled around the room.

“You’ll have what you desire the most. A heartbroken girl who is more than happy to stay loyal to the crown. Once she marries you, she will no longer be a threat to the crown. You could have Highgarden.”

The idea played inside his mind for days. If he killed Loki, he could have everything he wanted. Power, money, and the most beautiful girl in the Nine Kingdoms. No one could stop him. All he had to do was defeat the arrogant son of a bitch before he saw Cecelia. Xerxes would often let his mind wander to his queen.

How soft her skin must feel, how the sun hit her hair, and how her laugh sounded like a song. He couldn’t find the words to tell her, but she must know. She must have an idea of how he felt for her. Cecelia was very smart and very kind. She knows. Xerxes didn’t need to say it aloud.

“Xerxes,” a friend called out to him. “Did you hear me?”

“No, I apologize Han. My mind was…never mind. What is it?”

“He’s here. Loki and his entire army. They’re all here. I suspect someone is on their way to tell Cecelia herself, but you are her personal guard.” Xerxes felt his stomach drop. He had no time to think of a plan or even an idea on how to kill the young, dark king. His daydreams had the better of him entirely. He started running towards his queen. His heart beat loud in his chest with an anxiety he never knew before.

Was it because he was so close to failure that he could taste the blood in his mouth? Or was it because he was so close to success that he could taste Cecelia’s mouth on his own?

:Loki’s POV:

Highgarden was just over the hill and a short road to the palace. He could see the size of it from on top of Caina. Joy was not the word he was looking for. Relief? No. Peace. It was the peace knowing you were there waiting for him just inside the castle. It was peace knowing you were safe this entire time. It was peace that he would greet his newborn with.

Loki lost track of time he had been away. His snake skin gloves kept a tight grip on Caina. He beckoned her to go faster. Loki felt his heart leap into his chest. He never felt compelled to race his horse towards a woman before, but here he was reliving the romantic tales that girls passed around. He was living the happy ending.

Caina galloped in front of everyone and everything. Her hooves hustled through like rain drops raced to kiss the earth. Loki started laughing to himself. He was so incredibly in love that he wanted to shout for you.

“Lady Cecelia!” he sang into the air whipping around. “Sweet lady Cecelia!”

As he approached the gates of Highgarden, he found them to wide and open. His horse came to a halting stop and Loki jumped off his horse. He heard a loud, booming laughter beside him.

“Loki!” Lord Garth greeted him. He took a look a young, future king. Loki still donned his golden horned helmet, black and silver furs served well as an outer layer. Loki’s hair had gotten longer along with sign of facial hair. Iced Steel stayed attached to his side. “You’ve been busy, my lord.”

“And here I thought you would be still fighting for my father,” Loki laughed with his father-in-law. They embraced tightly.

“My daughter changed my mind. She speaks so highly of you,” Lord Garth said.

“Where is she? It’s been so long. I was beginning to forget her sweet face,” Loki smiled. Lord Garth and Loki left the common areas, leaving everyone else to greet Loki’s army. Loki ascended stairs and followed hallways directly to your room. He remembered it only slightly now. He could see you now, happily waiting for him with a swollen belly.

A pang of guilt hit him hard. He hadn’t been with you or his growing child for a long while. Would you be resentful? Understanding? You were all at war, in an open rebellion. Hopefully you wouldn’t be terribly mad. Then he remembered Lorelei.

Loki’s hand touched your doorknob of your bedroom and stopped. How was he going to tell you? He needed a way to tell you somehow. Loki knew you wouldn’t like the idea of an ex-lover of his to stay inside the walls of Highgarden. Maybe he could explain it to you. You were reasonable.

He opened the door to your room, finding it completely empty. Loki’s eyebrows knitted together. He heard a voice behind him laced with concern.

“Loki,” Lord Garth held an older woman in his hands. Eir had a rope tied around her wrists and neck. Lord Garth loosened them and the older woman could finally breathe.

‘Eir, what’s happened to Cecelia?”

Eir coughed and wheezed. She turned to lord Garth and Loki. “It was Xerxes and Ser Petra. They have her. Up in one of the towers.”

Loki’s blood started to boil over. The same anger he felt towards Ser Petra returned to him in an instant. Loki’s nostrils flared evenly. He shot a look at Garth. Garth silently coiled the rope in his hands.

“They have my eldest in a tower? As a hostage in her own home? In my home?” Garth said gently. He tied the newly coiled ropes to his side. His war hammer was in his grasp. Loki embraced Iced Steel in his own hands. They both could smell the shit of the men who they trusted in the air as if it left a trail of where they exactly were.

Highgarden had several towers, but this particular one stood in the center of it all. Loki and Lord Garth started climbing the steps up the tower. Loki went ahead first. His fingers itched to hit someone. He trusted Xerxes to take care of his wife. So why exactly was he holding her hostage now? He suspected the honored knight, Ser Petra.

When Loki and Lord Garth reached the top, they were met with the two idiots who made a terribly bold and ill-calculated move.

“My lord,” Ser Petra said, facing Garth.

“My lord,” Xerxes spat out like poison. Loki’s held Iced Steel in one hand. A poisoned dagger in the other.

“Is my wife locked in there?” Loki narrowed his eyes.

“Swear fealty to King Malekith and we will release your wife and child safely to you,” Ser Petra rose his sword. Loki scoffed.

“So, we’re really doing this?”

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“I don’t mean to question you, my lord, but how do you propose we take down the King?” Ser Petra asked, scratching his beard.

“I’m glad you asked. I have been in contact with Lord Odin of the Iron Islands. He is planning for an open rebellion to take the crown himself. This is a man of power, knowledge, and value. I believe in him and his cause.”

“So, savages from the Iron Islands and Highgarden soldiers?”

“No. They are not savages. Iron Islanders have skills on the sea that we do not possess. We have advantage on the land and the numbers. Lord Odin has also spoken to Lord Steffon of Casterly Rock to join our alliance. We’ll seal these alliances with marriage. Lord Odin has two sons. I have a daughter. Lord Steffon has a daughter.”

“You’re marrying your daughter off to a man of Pyke?” Ser Petra narrowed his eyes. “I don’t mean to criticize, my lord, but I fear he may not treat your daughter well.”

“Any man who lays a harmful finger on any of my daughters will face a wrath that the Nine Kingdoms have never known. Besides, I’ve heard terrible tales spun about the Dark Prince. If he is as scary as they say he is, we will win this rebellion.” Lord Garth’s men cheered on while Ser Petra left the room. He took a vow that day. He swore he would protect the ruling family. He swore his sword to the King. He would not have that king removed.

Ser Petra met with a pretty servant girl in the courtyard. She smiled brightly when she saw him at first, but then her smile faded when she saw the wrath.

“Are you leaving for King’s Landing soon?” he asked her.

“In less than a fortnight, why?” She batted her pretty eyes. “Did you want to toss around in the hay?” “No. I have whispers that need to be sent to the King and his small council. Lord Garth speaks of treason and an open rebellion.”

“Rebellion?”

“The Lords of Highgarden, the Iron Islands, and Casterly Rock are forming alliances with marriage. Soon, their armies will march across the Nine Kingdoms and they’ll attack the king.” The servant girl left sooner than planned. Royal spies couldn’t hold information like this for long, and Ser Petra was desperate to get to work. The Nine Kingdoms had been living peacefully for decades. He wouldn’t have this peace disturbed now.

Whenever he could, he intercepted ravens. He listened carefully to Lord Garth’s words and deciphered them as best as he could for the royal spies that stayed within the walls of Highgarden. Of course, Lord Garth never suspected his own. Ser Petra thought himself as smater than the aging man.

“What have you heard of the alliance?” a young spy asked him.

“The Dark Prince will be here soon. I suspect the wedding will be soon after that. They want it to be hush-hush.”

“How do you know? Has Lord Garth revealed any days? Any details?”

“No. His lady wife handles all of the wedding crap. He is handling the rebellion. He will not make any moves until his daughter is married.”

“Leaving him open for a siege,” the spy smiled grimly. Like a ghost the spy was gone and disappeared into the walls of Highgarden where most spies hide themselves. In the coming days, Ser Petra saw Highgarden at her best. People teeming with hospitality and kindness. The best dishes were set out and the palace was cleaner.

He strolled down the hallway until he saw a posse of people heading in the opposite direction. Leading them all was Lord Garth himself. His voice still boomed in the corridors of the old castle. Next to him stood a young man. His long dark hair was combed back. Ser Petra judged his dark clothing. It looked as if he was attending a funeral, not an upcoming wedding. He noted the sword and daggers strapped to his sides.

Ser Petra also saw the young man match his glare.

“Ah! Ser Petra!” Lord Garth came closer. He gestured to the young man next to him. “This is the Dark Prince Loki. My daughter’s betrothed.”

“My lord,” Ser Petra bowed his head. He looked towards Loki’s way again and noticed his younger features. “How old are you, boy?”

“Don’t call me, boy,” Loki’s eyes glared. “I’m seventeen.” “You’re still a boy,” Ser Petra laughed at him. Although he planned for Highgarden to fall during a siege, he loved the girls. Cecelia, Dahlia, and Amaryllis would be safe should anything were to happen. He found himself smiling after meeting Loki. At least, they were around the same age. Ser Petra had spent his years in knighthood watching Cecelia grow up before his eyes. They were not blood related, but Petra had a paternal affection for her.

They met again in another hallway just as a spy ran off and disappeared. Loki stood right behind him, seeing what happened.

“Have you driven your squire mad, ser?” Loki asked. “He ran off in a hurry.”

“I ordered him to do something of urgency. Can I help you, my lord?”

“I was told that you possess knowledge of the Highgarden army. I had hoped to ask you questions.”

“Questions? Why do you need to know?”

“I am to lead them into battle. I want to know everything I can,” Loki explained, already bored of this transaction. Ser Perta started laughing.

“You? A boy of seventeen? Lead an army? You must be as mad as the king!”

“I am not. And I will be leading this army.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will, boy,” Ser Petra left an impression on Loki. One that carried into the wedding. Ser Petra saw Cecelia smiling in her beautiful gown while Loki sulked and stared at Ser Petra from afar. He didn’t mind much. This was an evening to celebrate new friends and love. Not planning the undermining of Highgarden.

As soon as Loki and Cecelia left, Ser Petra got to work in aiding as many spies as he could through Highgarden. Some had posed as servants, other posed as poets and intellects, some had posed as children seeking asylum from the war. Months had passed and he was among the first to welcome back Cecelia and her growing stomach back into the safety of Highgarden.

He didn’t anticipate this at all.

When visiting with the lady, Ser Petra took the time to ask careful questions as one of the royal spies poured tea for Cecelia.

“Is it love that I see in your eyes?” Perta laughed. “I have seen you happy but not like this.”

“Thank you, Ser Petra. You can say it is love.”

“Your husband didn’t seem too happy on the wedding day. What happened?”

“We grew. Our love needed tending and kindness. Now we reap the harvest of it.” Cecelia said, patting her swelling belly. Ser Petra smiled genuinely.

“I hope for you sake it’s a boy. I heard from your father that Loki has declared himself to be a Frost Giant. He took his own sigil. Why?”

“To be king. Loki wishes to take the Iron Throne for himself,” Cecelia said. The spy had stumbled over and stopped in her walk. She took a breath and continued. “Is she alright?”

“She’ll be fine. How are you? How is the baby?”

“We’re both healthy and fine. Lady Eir has been so incredibly helpful in that aspect. She expects me to give birth in the colder months coming.”

“Ah yes, the harvesting months. What a wonderful time to have a child.” After conferring with the spies around him, it was final. Loki presented a real threat against the crown unlike his father and older brother who had lost so many battles. Both of their armies headed south towards the civil war that broke out against the noble elf families.

If Loki was to die, so was everything that went with him, including Cecelia and her newborn.

“Is there another arrangement?” Ser Petra asked the sell sword spy cleverly named No Face. No Face sighed beneath his metal mask.

“No. Lady Cecelia and the babe must die. Either you do it your way or I’ll do it my way. Either way, it must be done. King Malekith wishes it.”

“Cecelia is powerless without Loki. Tit was an arranged marriage between the two. She does not want the throne for herself. She never has. Her baby will be born into this world wanting nothing but life.”

“Yet, the baby possesses Loki’s blood. The baby must die,” No Face warned. Ser Petra retreated back into his room, wondering if what he was doing was right for the realm anymore.

:Loki POV:

The chill of the North meant nothing to Loki and his new army of Frost Giants. They proudly marched out of the villages and homes to join his cause. Loki rode a new, bigger horse. She was black with eyes that looked like drops of blood. Caina, Loki dubbed her. He always wanted a good warhorse.

“Where do we march, my king?” a frost giant rode beside him. He was tall and lanky like Loki was. He had dark markings around every inch of exposed skin Loki saw with his eye.

“We march back to my wife, cousin,” Loki smiled. “She lives in the south where our dwarven and human friends wish to be right now.” “To Highgarden, it is.”

As the troops approached a village, Loki had an awfully good idea. He turned to his cousin on his right.

“Our warriors, they still needed to be blooded, am I correct?”

“Yes,” his cousin confirmed. “Many of us have been trained, but we have not seen battle yet.” A mischievous smile played on his lips. His eyes turned dark.

“Show me what you can do. Sack the village.”

The small Northern village burned to ashes in only an hour. Several mens’ heads sat on spikes and decorated the border of the village. Loki rode Caina through the ashes and looked down upon his easy victory. Not much of the village was left except for food and its people. Children held onto their mothers’ torn skirts while they were captured. Each person filed into the carriages. Some men had to be chained and separated from the rest.

Loki heard a man say ‘fuck the dark king’ and spit on the ground. That was his mistake.

“What’s your name?” Loki asked of the man, a smile played on his lips.

“Why does it matter?” the man yelled back. A frost giant soldier kicked the back of his knee which sent him down to the ground hard.

“Kneel before your King!” the soldier said. Loki jumped off his horse and approached the burnt man. His clothes were dirty and parts of him were burnt. His beard caught the snow that fell from the sky. Loki’s sword touched the tip of his chin.

“I have taken your home. I have destroyed everything, and yet you have the courage to tell me to fuck off?”

“You’re going to kill us, aren’t you?” the burnt man said. “Doesn’t matter whose king. You’ll end up killing us anyways. You’re no better than the Mad King.”

Loki put his sword to his neck, watching the man get increasingly nervous of his own fate. The burnt man closed his eyes and accepted what fate handed to him, a quick death. Loki put his sword down and knelt in front of the man.

“I’m not like the Mad King. I can be merciful,” Loki told the burnt man. He took his dagger and shoved it into the man’s side. “See? I gave you the pleasure of watching your family come away with me while you lay dying here in the snow.” The burnt man cried out, holding his side and rolling on the ground. Loki left him there as he rolled and writhed.

Satisfied with himself, Loki cleaned his blade until another cousin caught his attention.

“My king, this one says she knows you,” this frost giant had a young woman chained to his horse. Her light red locks and sad eyes tied knots in Loki’s stomach. This woman did know him, and he knew her very well.

“Lorelei?” Loki breathed out. The woman looked up to Loki with a grateful smile. A tear streamed down her cheek. She was dirty and bruised. Her shoes had very little to protect her from the snow beneath her toes. Her light clothing suggested her profession.

“Hello Loki,” Lorelei greeted. “I knew you’d never forget me. I knew you’d come back to me.”

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He remembered tales from his mother when he was sick. Frigga would sit next to him and tell stories of the terrible Frost Giants.

“They were savages,” Frigga said. “People who knew nothing but how to survive.” Loki considered himself a survivor of his own family. They fed him lies. Covered up his true heritage and for what? A lifetime of betrayal, war, hate? It hurt him to his core. To know that he did not belong his own family, but to a family who did not know him.

The northern roads grew colder at night. He watched some of the boys freeze in their metal cages and look upon him with disgust. Other boys looked upon him with gratitude. Either way, Loki did not care of the boys’ opinions. They were safe from the mad king. He would return them home to their families. He would not stoop to the king’s level.

The roads turned to ice and snow when his army reached the North. It was a large and wild land. Every southerner lived in fear of north’s men and the Frost Giants. Old magic was said to be more dangerous than the gods themselves. Still, Loki moved forward. He had no fear. He had old magic of his own.

The Frost Giants did not live in a village like most assumed. They had a fortress built to last every winter that befell the Nine Kingdoms. Winterfell belonged to the men. World’s Edge belonged to the Giants. The fortress bordered the sea on the Grey Hills. Their homes craved into the frozen rock. Their fortress towered Winterfell by thirty feet. Any man who approached it felt the hard stare of the giants who guarded the gates and the road.

Loki was at the head of his army when they approached the main gates. He was met with the same cold stare by three guards.

“Who comes?” the first giant’s voice boomed.

“Loki of House Laufeyson. Dark Prince of the Iron Islands. Future King of the Nine Kingdoms,” Gryff’s voice boomed back. He may be a dwarf, but his voice carried more weight than anticipated.

“Loki…,” the first giant’s voice trailed off as he took in the sight of him. A long, black cloak covered Loki. His golden-horned crown stood out against the white landscape. His grey fur collar kept his face warm. His banners whipped in the wind behind him. His familiar blue eyes struck the giant.

The first giant left the other two and the army waited in silence. Soon after, the gate was opened to World’s Edge. Loki and his army rode inside to discover the true size of the fortress which was unlike anything they have ever seen before.

:Lia’s POV:

Weeks went by without hearing anything of Loki’s status. No one said he was dead, but no one could confirm his safety either. My belly swelled to a larger size now. I could feel the weight of our child. My hand rubbed along the size of my stomach and I felt it. A kick! It was unlike anything I ever felt before. I felt so many emotions that I didn’t realize what I said.

“Loki! Come here! Our child—

My voice trailed off when I realized who I called out for. I felt myself sink into the chair I sat at. A tea made for a new mother’s health warmed me, but it was not the comfort I wanted. Out of the corner of my eye, a visitor came onto the balcony.

“I heard you calling, dear,” Eir said. “Did you need something?”

I shook my head. “I was speaking out of turn, I guess. I may as well be calling out to a ghost.” I frowned. Eir sat down next to me.

“I heard what you said. Do you miss him?”

“Very much so.”

“I have heard tall tales of your marriage to him. I was there at the wedding. He didn’t look so happy.” Eir chuckled. I laughed with her.

“He wasn’t. He didn’t enjoy the spectacle of it all.” I blinked and remembered a particular memory of that night.

“Did you like the food?” I asked him. “The fish was wonderful, but I’m sure you have had better.”

“It was okay,” Loki exhaled. He continued to look around at everyone else. His eyes narrowed to the right of me. I looked in the same direction, but I only saw Ser Petra talking to a high merchant.

“Is something wrong?”

“Don’t speak,” Loki answered right away. He kept staring at the pair, sitting forward a little more. I sat back, confused. People watching was interesting, but to do it so intensely was concerning. His eyes narrowed on Ser Petra as if he knew something.

“I remember Loki was suspicious of one of my knights that evening. Ser Petra, I believe,” I laughed. “I’m not sure why. He’s one of my father’s most loyal knights. He protected my family during the siege here. Loki just kept staring him down as if he meant to set him on fire.”

“Men,” Eir said. “And they claim women are more emotional. Speaking of emotional, how are you feeling?”

“It’s been almost three months, and I don’t know whether my husband is alive or dead. News of that battle is old and yet I know nothing of it. It weighs on me. Mostly at night when I can feel his absence. I want our child to have a father. I felt them. They kicked!”

“Ah, my summer child. What you felt was movement,” Eir corrected me. “You are only four moons along in your term. The baby will kick later.”

:Loki’s POV:

Loki and three of his men were lead to the center of the fortress. A tall and narrow room with no windows. Candles lit in several corners gave the room a dim but manageable light. The current leader of the Frost Giants sat there. His eyes were darkened by the little light in them. His deep wrinkles could tell you stories of his long life. His face lit up when Loki entered the room.

“Loki. Little Loki,” he chuckled.

“Excuse me? I come into your home—

The Leader raised his hand, and Loki shit his mouth slowly as if a ghost had gently squeezed his lips together. The Leader laughed and coughed as if he was clearing the dust in his lungs. His black feathered crown moved on his head.

“I only jest,” he shook his head. “I never thought I would meet you. Now that you stand before me, I feel joy in my chest. My nephew has come home.” The wrinkles in his face deepened when he smiled.

“Nephew?”

“My name is Yik’in. Your father, Laufey, was my younger brother,” Yik’in explained. “A warrior and a hero if there ever was one. He carried our name proudly. He fought with dignity, divinity, and with grace. When we rebelled against the kingdom, I was so sure we would win. We only wanted to live by our code. Our laws. Laufey led the invasions.

“He traveled along the border, going south, bringing blood and gold to the King. I didn’t think Lord Odin would be his end. I thought he killed all of you. Laufey, your mother, and you. News of your survival never reached here. I cried for years, feeling guilty and weak from it. My daughter, bless her, she wanted to be at peace with it all. Until I heard the news.”

“News?”

“Of Iced Steel and your touch,” Yik’in smiled. “I knew it had to be you. Only you. When the news reached me, I wrote to your father immediately. I wanted nothing to do with him and his rebellion anymore.”

“Which is why you wrote to me?” Loki’s breath was shaky. Everything started to make sense. A weight Loki never knew was there lifted from his chest. He felt like breathing was easier here. Tears started to line his eyes. “You wanted me to come here for an alliance, but you wanted me to come home.”

Yik’in’s arms reached out to the young boy. Loki embraced the old man and held him as long as he could. Loki fell on his knees in front of his uncle. His uncle’s hands touched Loki’s face, turning it blue under his touch.

“Welcome home, Loki,” he said to him.

Loki and his men were welcomed into the fortress. The Frost Giants had treated them warmly, feeding them hot food and good ale. Some of the men smoked sourleaf around the fire in bonding ceremonies. Loki found himself bonding with his uncle and helping him walk around the fortress and the surrounding under cities.

“I am glad I have met you,” Loki said. “And I am glad that you support my cause. But why me? Why quit your alliance with Odin?”

“Lord Odin is an awful man. He fights with little to no honor at all. I expect hi golden-haired son to be every inch like him,” Yik’in confessed. “I hate him. He took my brother from me. He took my nephew from me. He took my freedom from me, and yet he is a better man than King Malekith.”

“And you think I am a better man than Lord Odin?”

“I know you are. I have been following this war, boy. I’ve seen your victories and your losses. I’m impressed. You would make a better king than both of them combined.” Loki felt a warm feeling of pride wash over him. He felt the weight of Iced Steel at his side.

“I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

“You won’t. I have a faith in you that burns from the same fire that burned my hatred for those men. I heard they made you marry a southern girl. We can fix that. You could have one of our girls—

Loki held his hand up. “No, I’m happy, uncle.”

“Happy?”

“Yes. Lady Cecelia is everything I wanted. I was arranged to marry her, but ultimately she has my heart and my child.” Loki’s eyes widened. His child. He was set on the task of being here that he had forgotten about his own future child.

“Happiness and a child? Why do you look so worried, boy?”

“I forgot I was having a child!” Loki put his face in his hands. He groaned. “Oh, I am awful.” Yik’in patted his back.

“Boy, you are at war. Her belly swells. She is at work. You are at work. Let the girl worry.”

“She is not a girl, uncle,” Loki’s tone changed. A darkness fell over his eyes. “If you support me as your king, I will remind you that she is your queen. You may be my uncle, but she is mine. That will be the last time you insult what is mine.”

Two guards rushed to Yik’in’s side as Loki towered over him. Yik’in waved them away and looked at his nephew seriously. His old eyes saw a fire burned behind his young nephew’s eyes. The same fire that burned in Laufey’s eyes.

“That is why you’ll be King,” Yik’in said. “You defend what is yours. You destroy your enemies. You wield Iced Steel as if it was made for you.”

“You speak of me like I am your hero. I just threatened you,” Loki looked to his uncle’s guards.

“I know. You threatened me. Your own uncle. I can only imagine the horrors that await your enemies.”

“How many men will you give me?” Loki pushed his boundaries. Yik’in stood straight.

“How many men do you need?”

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“Tell me anyways,” she smiled. Fandral cracked another smile. She always said that to him. ‘Tell me anyways’. It was almost like their first meeting eleven months ago. Fandral stormed out of the war room in Highgarden. He was tired of being surrounded by grumpy, old men who couldn’t agree on anything. He was tired of this war and it had barely started. He went to the kitchens to grab something. An apple. Maybe some bread. A lot of ale.

He swiped a stein from a shelf and poured himself some ale. He gulped it all down and poured himself some more. He drank that too in less than a breath. Then he heard her.

“Are you alright?” she asked. Her blonde curls were a mess. Her eyes had bags and her arms were filled with towels. Yet, she asked him how he was. Fandral shook his head.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about me,” he waved her off while pouring himself another ale.

“Tell me anyways,” she said. Fandral looked back up to her and saw her kind smile, and then he never wanted anyone else to smile at him again. After a long chat and more ale, Fandral found himself dizzy and drunk, but not enough to forget her.

He gathered flowers for her and left them in places she would find. They would meet in secret and trade more than just stories. Fandral found himself disgusted whenever he would try to flirt and charm other young women. Some days, he woke up thinking of her. He had himself another moment by just looking at her.

“What is it?” she giggled. Their noses brushing against each other.

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head.

“Tell me anyways,” she smiled. Fandral said something to her, he’d never thought he would say.

“There are plans to move forward and leave Highgarden. Come with me, Elise.” They were never too far apart ever again. They rode together to the Eyrie. They stayed together at the Eyrie. Now, they ruled it as Lord and Lady. Fandral stroked her hair, listening to the fire crackle behind him. He shifted his weight above her.

“I was thinking about us. Where we are. Who we are—

“And?”

“I never thought I would be here. I-I mean, Lord and Lady of the Eyrie. I’m a lord. I have a wife, and I love her. I’m rebelling against the king. And-and I want a family. With you. I can’t believe I’m saying that. I told myself when I was young that I would never marry and have children. I always wanted to fuck the first thing I saw, but here I am.” Elise giggled.

“You are so stupid,” Elise took each side of his face and brought herself close. “You are worth much more than what you are selling yourself as.”

“I am not worthy of you. How did someone like you fall in love with someone like me?”

“Easy. You made me feel loved again after when I felt like I was worthless.” Elise kissed him. He kissed her back with dozens of small kisses covering her face. She basked in it. The love that grew in her heart had become a garden. Perhaps, it was time to build on the garden more. “Children? Are you sure? When we—

“I know what I said when we started courting,” Fandral interjected. “Things have changed now. Our family will rule this seat for centuries. But we need a family first. What do you say?” Fandral’s face softened. He lived his life be carefree and lived life to his accords, but now what mattered the most to him was another’s opinion.

“I would like to see a little lord or lady running about, I think,” Elise bit her lip before she smiled. Fandral buried himself between her neck and shoulder, holing her tight as he could.

“I would like you to be a mother,” he whispered. “There’s so much love in you. I should expect our children to have their mother’s heart.” Fandral moved upward to look at her eyes. He compared them to nature. When she was upset, they were wet grass. Soaking up every bit of the pouring rain. When she was angry, they were a swamp. Thick and dangerously deceiving. When she was happy, they were the feeling of running in an open field or the color in her favorite dress.

Fandral moved closer, but before they could begin. A sharp, constant pounding on their door interrupted the pair. The door swung open to reveal a knight, dressed in Iron Island armor, whose eyes were more than wide awake.

“My lord, they’re here.” Is all he said.

:Lia’s POV:

I didn’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I truly missed home much more than I thought. Maybe I was hungry. I took a horse from one of my men and jumped on it. The horse flew and took the lead. He huffed and galloped his way all the way to the castle gates. I jumped off the horse to see the same sleepy knight, Ser Dunham.

“Ser Dunham!” I shouted with joy. “Ser Dunham!” A snort and two cough later, I see the same big-nosed man guarding the gates as he did when I was young. His two small eyes lit up.

“My lady? Cecelia? Is that you, Cecelia?”

I nodded my head. “Yes! It’s me!” I laughed as I heard Ser Dunham make his way to open the gates. They flew open with Ser Dunham not falling too behind. His arms were wide and I jumped into them with all the energy I could muster. His big arms wrapped around me, and I felt it. I was home.

The first place I went to was the first place I knew to find my mother and father. I ran into the queen’s gardens without much warning and hugged my father from behind.

“Ah! Amaryllis what is—Cecelia?!”

“Cecelia! Oh, it’s you!” My mother exclaimed. Her arms reached for mine and I found comfort in her embrace.

“I’m home!” I laughed into her chest. I thought I felt joy before, but not like this. My face grew wet while my parents held me. This moment could last forever. In the past months, I felt so unsafe, angry, and lost. Now I was home. I didn’t need to worry any longer. I was safe.

After what felt like happy hours, I was reunited with everyone in the castle. My people who also returned home found love and embrace with their families and friends. Loki’s men found friendship and returning hospitality. And the dwarves found a beautiful sanctuary. One that looked more beautiful than anything they had ever seen. Then, my father asked the question.

“My dearest, why are you here? Where’s Loki?”

I took my Lord Father into his war room. Many things had changed. He had raven messages on the walls. Reports and details from different spies and paid thieves were stabbed into the map and paper. He would not chance Highgarden again.

“We were here in this forest. Loki and his sorcerers created a barrier around us. One could not see it with the eye, but when coming in a certain distance from it, it would ripple.” I explained to my father. He nodded for me to continue. “Something triggered that rippling. We had a sanctuary below the camp, so we hid down there. I do not know what happened above, but the dwarves heard screaming. So, I opened the door to our escape and it led me here.”

“And what of the battle?”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “I told you. We heard screaming. It didn’t sound good.”

“Is he dead?” My father asked. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Is who dead?”

“Loki.” My father said. I felt my entire self turn white. As if ice had casted it’s magic on me and I could not move. I felt my eyes go wide and my heart stop. Loki. He could be dead. He could be rotting in the ground and the fallen crown would remain. My hands shook aggressively while my breath had finally caught onto my emotions. I held my center out of fear of falling apart.

My father held me up and watched my eyes water and blink. Realizing what he said may have been true, my father squeezed me against him.

“Hold on, my brave girl. My good, brave girl. Hold on for me. Hold on for him.”

Thus began my father’s search. He gathered up his best spies, scouts, and thieves. He told the spies to go to different kingdoms. Gather any intel from pubs, halls, or brothels and bring it back home. He ordered the scouts to search the forest. Find anything. Anyone. Bring them back home. Then, he asked a malicious thing of the thieves.

Find who attacked us, then kill them.

That night, I sat in my old bedroom, watching the fire crackle. The thoughts ran through my head faster than the horses my father sent out. What if he was dead? What if he was dead? What if he was dead? What if he was dead? The only question I didn’t want an answer to. I buried my head into my arms.

“He’s going to be okay,” I quietly whispered to my stomach. “He wouldn’t leave us. Not now. He wouldn’t do that to us.” A soft knock on the door revealed my mother with a warm drink in her hand. She walked carefully over to me and sat with me. Her hand rubbed up and down my back.

“Nothing yet,” she said without me asking the question. “Take this. It will help calm you.” The milky tea was warm in my hands, and it tasted sweet on my tongue.

“There’s something I need to tell you. Something I couldn’t write in a letter,” I said.

“Oh?” Her eyebrows knitted. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m with child, Mother.”

My mother’s face turned into ecstatic joy. Her arms wrapped around me as she kissed my forehead many times over. I could hear her squealing.

“How wonderful! How absolutely joyous! There’s so much to do! There’s regular visits with the midwife and then there’s the showering and then—

My mother stopped speaking when she felt my wet face. Suddenly, her joy had fallen back to the ground. She held onto me tighter. “But we don’t need to worry about that now. Right now, you just fall asleep and I will be right here by you.”

The night had felt like an eternity as if the darkness would never fade or turn into any sunlight. Like the Long Night had come early. When sunrise did come, I was watching the gates for any man to come through them. My mother had to pry me away and lay me down. What else could I do? What more could be done? I cried into my pillow once more before finally slipping away from this world.

I awoke to a gentle nudge in my shoulder. I turned to see my father who towered over the bed. He sat at edge with me, offering to hold my hand.

“Father? I—

“I’m so sorry.” My father let out a long sigh. A terrible feeling settled in my stomach. I started to shake my head.

“No, no, no,no—

My father squeezed my arm. “There was an attack on the Eyrie. An army of Dark and Light Elves. They took it and killed the Lord and Lady.”

Elise.

I felt the world falling apart. My stomach dropped through the floors and beyond that. I felt gravity push me down into the earth and I hoped it would. I didn’t want to come back up again. I collapsed into my bed and screamed. All I could was scream while several fluids cover my face. Elise was dead. She was a Lady. I had made her one. I left The Eyrie to my best friend and now she was dead.

I saw her blonde curls and laughing smile. I would never see it again.

I started to hit and punch at whatever I could get my hands on. This war had taken enough from me. It attacked my home. It took boys from their mothers. And now it took Elise.

What if it took Loki too?

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She ripped open my clothes and inspected my stomach. Pushing and touching points along it. Then, my eyes, and then my head.

“How are you feeling now, my lady?” she asked me with great concern. The pain had passed. I felt fine. However, I felt like I wasting her time by feeling fine.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. It came and then it went,” I explained. The main healer bit her thumb and looked at my stomach once more. Her eyes widened and then she looked to me.

“When was the last time you bled, my lady?”

My heart stopped. The question rocked me to my core. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. That night. Elise and Fandral’s wedding. Our bed. Loki making love to me. I laughed and then I shook my head. Was it really happening? Was it real?

“I—I’m sorry, I—

“Where is she? Is she alright?” Loki rushed in to find my stomach exposed and the rest of my body covered in fabric. I saw color rush to his cheeks as he faced the healer.

“Perhaps, you should sit down,” she suggested. Loki found a chair and planted it next to me. His hand found both of mine.

“Are you alright? I was told you were in pain,” Loki’s eyebrows knitted together. I patted his hand.

“I’m fine, but we think this is something bigger than we anticipated.”

“Anticipated?” Loki reacted. “What do you mean?”

The healer’s hand glowed a lovely neutral color over my stomach. Loki and I watched with big eyes as she made her way around the area. I watched her hands turn into a shade of gold. I felt a warmth as if a blanket had been laid on me. “What do you feel, my lady?” the healer asked.

“Warm. It’s not harsh. It’s pleasant,” I answered earnestly.

“That answers it then,” the healer turned to Loki. He bit his lip and waited patiently. His hands wrung as he swallowed. The healer smiled and nodded at me to tell him.

“Loki,” I straightened myself out. Loki turned to me so quickly that I was almost spooked. His skin was turning white. “I’m pregnant with your child.”

Loki’s face relaxed and turned into a grand smile at me. I could traces of tears in his eyes right before he embraced me and held me. His laughter lit up the room and delighted my ears. I started to laugh too. It was contagious. Loki pulled away only to find my mouth with his own. Loki held onto both sides of my face as he kissed over and over and over again.

“Oh, I love you,” he finally said. “I love you, Lia. This is—I don’t know what to say. I—

I interrupted him with another kiss. I pulled away once more as our foreheads touched. I eyed the main healer quietly leaving us alone for our own privacy. Loki’s hand reached to my stomach. His fingers were a cold contrast to the healer’s warm ones. He rubbed it gently and kissed my head.

“Anything you need. Anything you want. I will give it to you. Do you understand?” Loki told me. I nodded. We were having a child. I have to tell Elise! I have to tell my parents. Then, darker thoughts started to float in. What of Thor? What of sweet Frigga? What of Odin? Noting the delicate subject, I tried to ask it in a vague way.

“This is grand news. Should we share it with everyone?” I asked. Loki shot up.

“Of course! Why wouldn’t we? I’m going to have an heir!”

“Loki,” I urged. “I meant ‘everyone’ as in your family?” The question hung in the air, and I watched Loki’s excitement boil down to a quiet stance.

“They’re not my family,” he said. “They never were.”

“Frigga raised you. She loves you and you love her.”

“She’s not my real mother,” Loki coldly said. He took my hand and kissed it. “I don’t want to be angry with my wife especially after this wonderful news. Please leave this alone.” I decided to not protest. Loki left me in the healing tent to tend to the rest of the camp. The main healer returned to help me with anything I needed.

I found myself in our own tent laying down with pillows propping me up against the bed. My father raised me in such humility that I almost wanted to roll my eyes at how extravagant our shared tent was. The thick blankets, the big pillows, and now the insufferable worrying for me and our new child started to settle in.

“Is there anything else I can get for you, my lady?” the main healer asked. I looked around. Papers with pen caught my eye. If I were to be put on rest, I might as well be productive then. I pointed to the tools I needed and went to work.

I started to write to my mother and father first, but the words were lost on me. How would I begin to tell them they were expecting a grandchild in the middle of a war? How would my mother react? Excited or worried? My mind wandered to Elise. She had been my closest friend all my life. The words and thoughts came to me immediately. I let my pen flow freely with ink as I wrote to Elise.

:Xerxes POV:

Xerxes held his breath as King Loki returned to the war tent. His frown was certain, but Loki’s temper wasn’t at all with what he was concerned with.

“How fares she, my lord?” Xerxes asked first. Loki’s frown turned into a golden smile that matched his armor.

“We are with child. I’m going to be a father,” Loki announced. His high ranking men cheered and congratulated the King on the good news. Xerxes smiled and shook his King’s hand, but by no means was he happy for him.

The war meeting went over security measures such as the border control, the magical barrier, and how they would continue to move forward across Westeros. The planned destination? North, towards the Frost Giants to rendezvous and meet with them. Xerxes cringed when he thought of the savage people, and anger boiled within him when he remembered his king was one of them.

“The Queen will need more security as the months pass. Our child is important than ever now. The good news is exciting, but it also humbling. We are at war. I won’t put my family at risk. Xerxes, you’re young and have proved yourself to better than your peers. I charge you to protect the Queen at all times. Be her personal guard.” Loki offered the role to him. Xerxes took a step back and bowed.

“It would be an honor, my lord,” Xerxes’ eyes widened when he thought of the Queen and him alone. He would be spending much more time with her alone now. “I hope I don’t disappoint you, my lord.”

“I know you won’t.” Loki assured him as he patted him on the back. “Introduce yourself to my wife. Tell her what your role is now.”

Xerxes wrung his hands together. His eyes shifted focus as he tried to find the right words to say to the Queen. His Queen. He had been at her side before, but only to report directly to Loki himself. When he reached her tent, his mouth ran dry. “My lady,” he greeted as he entered the tent. He watched Lia’s soft hair fall in front of her face. His fingers itched to push it back for her.

“Oh, hello,” she greeted. She set down her pen and folded her hands in front of her. “What can I do for you?”

“First, I’d like to officially introduce myself to you, my lady. I am Ser Xerxes of Highgarden. Loki has charged with the task to be your personal guard from now on.”

“Oh,” Lia reacted. Xerxes rushed to respond.

“I apologize my lady if I caused you any offense or harm.”

“No, no, no,” Lia shook her hands at him, raising them in surrender. Her smile was contagious. “You misunderstand me. I didn’t realize Loki wanted protection for me so quickly. We had just found out an hour ago now.” Xerxes cracked a smile.

“Ah I see,” Xerxes felt his heart beating. His hands started to become sweaty. “If there is nothing else—

“You’re one of my own, aren’t you? You said you are from Highgarden,” Lia commented. Xerxes nodded.

“Yes, my lady.”

“I apologize. I haven’t met you.”

“I had recently became a knight in your service. Your father knighted a lot of us for you before you left Highgarden. Your husband noticed my talents early on and had me under Ser Fandral. I take his place now as his right hand man.” Xerxes explained. He noticed how she listened to him. How she leaned forward in her bed. How her eyes were only on him.

He enjoyed this personal attention. Then again, he heard how Lady Cecelia was exceptionally kind to anyone in her service, unlike her husband.

:Loki POV:

He stood over the wart table just as he did many times before. His pensive face. His thumb just between his teeth as he nibbled at the skin. Each house, each army marked by their respective sigil on the table as if this was his own personal chess board.

This was Hell Chess. How each player moved on their own viciously against or for him. He had no say in what his enemies could do, but he could predict them. He could prepare himself for battle or for trickery. It all depended on who moved next.

“My brother is likely in the Highlands to the West,” he mumbled to himself. “Keeping a hold on the ports and gaining allies since the Frost Giants left them for me. Father—No. Odin. Yes, Odin. He must be gaining the elves trust with Mother. No. Frigga.” Loki grunted to himself. Lia brought up family and they had danced around in his mind all day.

He was angered by them. How dare Odin and Frigga raise him without telling him what he was. To raise him as a sickly child. To tell him how awful the Frost Giants were. He couldn’t go back to them now. He wouldn’t be accepted as Laufey’s son. He had to be on his own now.

“I will be King,” Loki said to himself. “I wouldn’t have to answer to you ever again.” He said to the squid figurine over the Iron Islands. The words were cold, but the feeling didn’t last long. In less than a year, he would be a father. His own child with his wife. A family that was his and his alone.

Loki stared at King’s Landing with the loyal houses surrounding it. He would be damned if anyone hurt them. He thought of the noble families that supported King Malekith’s cause. Did they do it because they truly loved him? Or was it fear? Loki couldn’t imagine senators, priests, or other nobles supporting a child-made army.

Fear it was then.

Fear that drove them to stay silent. Fear that caused them to lie, hide, and do nothing. If that’s what made a King stay in power, Loki would be sure to use it.

Fear would make the Frost Giants respect him. Loki placed his and his wife’s armies near the North circling the Frost Giants. He nodded. Yes, he would take everything. He would rule everyone, starting from the North.

Loki looked behind him to hear the casual conversations of his soldiers, metal hitting against metal, and horses galloping throughout the camp. The world was outside his door. He could reach it. Touch it. Make it his own.

“My lord?” he heard from behind him. Loki turned sharply around and his visitor took several steps back. His eyes were wide from the sight of him. “My lord, I-I-I only want to apologize. I-

“What do you want?” he growled.

“My lord, it’s the-the border it’s doing something,” the solider tried to explain. Loki pushed him out of the way.

“What do you mean it’s doing—

Loki stopped and saw the border. The magic was changing its colors. It rippled in waves as if the entire dome were a fish. Loki’s eyes searched along the border on the ground. Throughout the camp, the ripples moved and shook violently.

“Enemies are close by,” Loki said quietly. He turned to the closest soldier and started to bark orders. “Arm yourselves! Shelter the women!” Loki started to rush along the border for any sign of enemies nearby. He whistled for his horse and heard the galloping.

They were going into battle.

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It had been a week since the escape through a portal. My mother had claimed herself as Head Septa of my care which did not amuse any of the septas here who could have done the job just as well as she could. I had been stuck in this bed for a week because my mother insisted, ‘The more rest she has, the easier it is for the baby to grow healthy in her.’ I may not have agreed, but my parents did agree on one thing.

The stress over the war was not good for me or the baby.

Still, there was no news of Loki or his men or at least no news had reached Highgarden. I rubbed my belly in circles, hoping it would calm me somewhat. All I could think of was Loki’s corpse rotting in the forest without any chance of saying goodbye.

I shook the thought out of my head and placed my feet on the ground in my old bedroom. I hoped walking around would help or at least distract me from those darker thoughts. My mother had kept it just the same even after we took the Eyrie and called it home. I had heard from a servant girl that someone had asked her if she would like to remodel this room, and she responded by almost throwing the servant out onto the streets for suggesting such a thing.

As I looked around the room, things looked the same. There was a wide window with light curtains. Floral patterns and golden swirls ornamented the green background. A window seat was made for me when I started to read on my own. I remembered I would often stay inside during nicer weather so I could read in peace.

I let my hands run over my stomach again. I remembered what my father did to me. He hid knowledge from me. I wouldn’t do that to my son…my son? No, I could be having a daughter. Why would I say daughter? Did it truly matter if this baby was a girl or a boy?

I breathed for a moment. Letting my mind wander was not the best idea. I had a quick idea and opened my bedroom door to see Xerxes standing guard. He turned to me confused.

“My lady? It’s late. What—

“Would you come in? I can’t sleep.”

As Ser Xerxes came into my bedroom, his eyes darted around the place. Studying each part as if he was never going to see it again. His wide brown eyes looked over my shelves filled with books. His fingers reached out to touch the spines, letting him feel the bumps and different thicknesses of each tome.

“I didn’t realize you read so much, my lady.” Xerxes said.

“I’ve read every book I got in my hands,” I chuckled. “My mother liked to brag to other noble ladies that I read faster and better than their children. She lost many friends that day.” I continued chuckling, but Xerxes continued to look through the books.

“This whole shelf is nothing but romantic stories,” Xerxes smiled. “I didn’t take you as the type for enjoying these frivolous stories.”

“Not every story needs to be educational and serious, Xerxes,” I grabbed a book off a shelf. “Sometimes we need stories to take us away and let ourselves escape. If we didn’t have stories like this, I figure the whole world would go mad.”

“And that book?”

“It’s my favorite one. My father had the author come talk with me about it and sign it for me. It’s about two lovers. One is across the Narrow Sea in Essos trying to find a way to come home to Westeros so he can be with his lover. They send love letters back and forth. It makes my heart swell.”

“Love letters?” Xerxes smiled. “I’m afraid I’ve assumed wrongly of you. Back inside the hole underneath the camp, you seemed so calm and in order of everything. So certain that we would survive. I didn’t think you would favor things like this.”

“Have you considered maybe I am both?” I placed the thick tome back on the shelf. “Knowledge is power. The more you have, the better you can use your own power. Of course, our king disagrees. He believes power is power, but he forgets his people are smarter than he is.”

“Do you believe you’re smarter than the King then?” Xerxes laughed. It sounded deep, but it came out more as a titter than a belly laugh.

“Maybe I could be, or maybe not.” I sat on the window seat. Letting my fingers feel the cold windows. “What about you? Do you enjoy romance and adventure?”

“I suppose I do, my lady,” Xerxes nodded. His dark curls moved around his head. One fell to the front and he pushed it back.

“Are you married? Do you have someone you care about?”

“No, I am not married, but there is someone who has caught my eye recently.”

I sat straight up. “Tell me about her. Does she live in the castle?”

“Yes,” Xerxes said nervously. “She’s very comfortable here.”

“How did you meet her?”

“This war. I met her on the way here back from the Eyrie.”

“Oh! So this is very recent then,” I stretched my dress as I crossed my legs on the seat.

“Yes, you can say that,” Xerxes sighed. He glanced back at the books. “Does your husband Loki share the same enthusiasm for love and adventure as you do?” I felt my heart sink. The dark thoughts entered my mind once again.

“He did. No, he does. I—

“My lady?” Xerxes interrupted. “Are you alright?”

“I can’t seem to get the thought out of my head. What if Loki and his men are gone? What if they are dead to the world and their bodies are just—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be—

“No, I’m sorry,” Xerxes placed his hand on my shoulder. “You are not the only one who is concerned. I may be posted outside your door at all times, but I hear the others. Some are scared. Most are praying. I saw one of your sisters making a prayer wheel for Loki.”

“Dahlia,” I smiled. “She was always the most religious one of us all. She’s read most religious texts from around the world, and her faith with the Nine is still strong. I admire her.”

Xerxes nodded. “Your father has been working day and night to find Loki or any kind of news. He’s sent out his fastest eight riders. Two North, Two East, Two West, and Two South. He even went as far as to send ravens to Thor and Lord Odin.”

Thor. I had forgotten about the sweet, princely man. Since Fandral and Elise’s wedding, all letters between Sif and I have stopped. I’m sure she was pressured to just the way I was. Sometimes going to war against family meant risking everything you had, and you prayed that the risk would pay off. I thought of their sweet blonde boy and I wondered how big he was. Was he walking? Did he say his first word?

“I hope Thor will come through,” I said, sounding more defeated than I wanted.

“Not Lord Odin?”

“Do you not remember, Xerxes?” I questioned him. “Lord Odin was never Loki’s father. Loki was a trophy of war against the Frost Giants. He doesn’t belong on the Iron Islands. Surely, Lord Odin wants nothing to do with him. If there was anyone who could help him now, it’s Thor.”

“You sound as if you don’t believe Thor will help.”

“Thor believe Loki isn’t fit to be King of the Nine Kingdoms. He is, in a way, our enemy. Loki is fighting to be King. Thor is fighting for the right to be King.”

“But both are for the same cause, my lady. King Malekith must die.”

“Yes, but both brothers want different endings.”

“And what do you want, Lady Cecelia?”

The question struck me across my face. From hearing about King Malekith’s plan with his boy army and his madness growing to forcibly agreeing to an arranged marriage. From leaving my home and seeing it attacked to taking another home and giving it to my best friend. I watched my people die. I watched my soldiers die. Elise and Fandral. And now possibly Loki.

This whole time and no one has ever asked me what I wanted from this war, not even my husband, Loki.

“I-I don’t know,” I admitted out loud. “I want him dead. I know that much.”

“Do you wish to be queen?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t want to be queen to have power. Whoever ends up being queen should be ready to have her heart and mind open for the people she will serve.” Xerxes smiled at me. His hand almost reached for mine, but he held it back.

“I believe you’ll make a wonderful queen. I’ve seen it.” Xerxes smiled at me.

“Thank you for your kind words. I think I’ll be alright now. Thank you again.”

“For you. Anytime, my lady. My sword is yours.” Xerxes bowed and left the room to return to his position outside. I climbed back into bed and felt my heavy eye lids droop and eventually shut to the world out there. The sleep was peaceful to say the least especially since my mother gave everyone strict orders to not wake me up early.

The sun was high in the sky, but it was climbing its way up when I finally awoke. My mother and a servant promptly entered the room with a tray full of fruits and fresh milk. I spied pieces of toast already buttered. My mother opened one of the smaller windows to let in fresh air.

“Good morning, sweet girl,” my mother sat on the bed and watched me eat. “How are you feeling?”

“I had a hard time sleeping last night,” I said. “I can’t stop thinking about Loki.”

“I understand. I’ve spent many night worrying over your father. Even now, I walk around the castle at night because the fear is so strong. Just have hope, my dear.”

“Have we heard anything? Any ravens?”

“Possibly. A raven came back early this morning from the North. Your father took it and went to his room filled with those dusty men.”

“Mother, they’re respectable leaders and generals.”

“They’re old and they smell.” My mother, Lady Magnolia, was named after a lovely flower, but she herself was not known to be as lovely. Some people have questioned where my sisters and I got our kindness. I usually point to my father, but that would only start an argument.

“So, we’ll have an answer?”

“By the afternoon. You know them. They can’t agree to anything, but I wouldn’t worry about that now. I have a very good friend of mine coming to see you. She helped me bring all three of my girls into the world, and now she’s helping you.”

“A midwife?” I asked.

“Yes, and a very learned one. She recently came back from Essos and learned their ways of childbirth and rearing. And she happily agreed to help you.”

An older woman walked into the room. Her gray hair was braided with gold and red beads strung onto them. Her skin was a russet brown. It reminded me of the sands in Essos and how the continued forever just as the wrinkles on her skin seem to never have an end. She didn’t wear traditional dresses like any Westerosi woman, but had a bold-patterned fabric wrapped around her.

“My, my,” she said. “You have grown into your own beauty, haven’t you?”

“Thank you,” I said with an unfortunate amount of toast in my mouth.

“I may know you, but you don’t know me. My name is Eir. I’m here to help you and your baby. Is this your first?”

“It is,” I nodded. Eir had a servant place a bag nearby the bed. Eir sat down opposite of my mother and held my hand.

“Then let’s get started.”

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“This is important. You will be King someday. This is your history.” He told him. Over and over and over again. Malekith was the only boy born to his father and mother. He had two younger sisters, Lilith and Rath. Both equally beautiful and terrifying as himself.

For centuries, dark and light elves played with incest and ‘keeping the blood pure’. It was only the reigning family that had kept this tradition alive. The king and queen were no different. Malekith knew when he was young. His father and mother were brother and sister, and he would be expected to take one of his sisters as his bride.

Rath was older. She had short, white hair. Hier dark eyes were also devilish in nature. Whenever a dog would yelp or a horse be spooked, Rath would be nearby. Her mother was disturbed by Rath’s unladylike behavior claiming ‘she will never find happiness in masculine activites’. Rath would only laugh with her head thrown back and attempt to stab at her septa.

Lilith was the youngest. She spent most of her days in bed. As a result of many centuries of inbreeding, some came out sicklier than others. Lilith only knew a childhood filled with softness and imaginary fictional worlds that took her away from her room. Malekith doted on her any way he could. They had developed a more intimate relationship when he had begun reading to her as a child.

He would take her to battle amidst fire and dirt. He would take her to the Far East. Deep down in the underwater caves in the ocean and breathe on the tops of mountains. Together they travelled across the world. It wasn’t until he was older that he started to read more romantic stories and then eventually court her.

Where Rath was filled with fire, Lilith was filled with earth. Her heart swelled for animals and pushed away any kind of meat. Malekith found her love for animals endearing so much that he gifted her an entire litter of cats for her sixteenth nameday. Rath loved her sister just as much as Malekith did. She snuck sweets into her room at night and they would whisper and gossip about the nobles in the castle.

The day that Rath died shook Malekith and Lilith to the core. She had entered a King’s Tourney. Malekith didn’t dare fight in a tourney. Where would the fun be? Where’s the risk? He was the future king. No one would dare try to attack him. He held Lilith’s hand as they both watched their sister be thrown off her horse. She recovered and charged at her opponent screaming.

But her opponent bested her. A poisoned sword through her side took her life as quickly as Malekith could get himself to his sister. Out of anger, the King killed his daughter’s murderer right then and there. His axe blade smashed right into his head, bits of his brain lay on the tourney dirt. That did not heal their wounds, it only opened them for the world to see.

King Malekith sheltered his sister wife in any way he could. Out of fear of a death threat to her, he locked her in a tower for a week. She bore him only daughters and smacked her for her flaws. He could not let one of his daughters to rule. They needed a King, not a weak Queen.

“I need a son!” He shouted at Lilith. She cowered from his touch. She remembered when she craved it.

“Mal—

“Must your body be so broken? What is wrong with you?” Malekith stormed from the room. His anger following him like a trail of mist. You couldn’t exactly see it, but you could feel it around you. A High Priest stopped him in his tracks. A brave man, he first thought.

“My lord, will you allow me to indulge for a moment?” The brown cloak man gestured with his hands. Allowing the conversation to be more open. Malekith nodded for him to go on. “I hear you want a son. A boy. I do not doubt your love for your daughters, but you need a King.”

“Yes, your point?”

“I have a way to make this happen.” The High Priest showed him The Mother and The Warrior. If he prayed to both, he would have a boy, but at a price. The gods do not simply give things away. Things must be paid for. The High Priest told him the price. “A life pays for another life.”

That night, King Malekith coaxed his second youngest daughter out of bed and towards a beautiful cliff overlooking the bay. When she let the wind whip her hair and laughed in the freedom she felt, Malekith pushed her over the edge. Her cries echoed in the bay until her small body hit the water. Malekith tried for a boy. Nothing happened.

The next week, after he had prayed to the Mother and the Warrior harder. Then he took another daughter inside the Sept. Her blood dripped down the sides of the altar. It was red and thick. Its travel down the marble stone was slow. Malekith tried for a boy again. The gods did not answer his plea.

He became desperate and angry. How dare the gods not answer the King? The ruler of Nine Kingdoms? How dare they ignore and silence him? Humiliate him and show the world how much of a joke he truly was. He would not let this family line die with weak, sickly women. He asked the High Priest what else he could do. What more could he do to gain a boy?

The High Priest earned his king’s trust. “I’m afraid your answer does not lie with the Faith of the Seven, my lord. It lies with something much darker.”

“I am not afraid of death,” King Malekith told him. “I have done terrible things to gain my own desires. Hell is waiting for me with their claws open.”

They were called the Stranger’s Wives. They only wore hoods with their faces hidden. They gathered every new moon in a cave by the bay. The King had felt nervous with their energy surrounding him. Their slender hands touched and caressed him until one stood out among the rest. She danced before him and around the fire. Color drained from her body and mocked the King’s skin.

He wasn’t sure how it happened. He entered the cave alone with armor, but now he was bare before the fire and the dancing woman. His sword gone from his side. The dancing woman’s cloak fell to the ground. She had a muscular build with white, short hair. The same dark devilish eyes stared him down.

“Rath?” he called out. She only threw her head back and laughed. She climbed onto the King’s body and rode until Malekith screamed his sister’s name. Stranger Rath’s eyes started to cry as the woman backed off of Malekith. Her belly started to swell and twitch. Malekith saw tiny fingers drag themselves just under the woman’s belly.

First, it was a hand and then another hand. Its small fingers dug into the earth and pulled at it. The baby crawled out of the woman on its own while she screamed. Once the baby was out, the woman’s eyes had gone lifeless. A life for a life.

The baby crawled itself to Malekith. Blood and dirt were painted all over the thing. The Warrior and the Mother had mocked him, but the Stranger gave life to him. Its yellow teeth and dark, horrid eyes smiled up at their father. Malekith picked the deformed child up and took him home to the castle.

The baby boy began to cry and sob. He was hungry. Of course he was hungry! Malekith would let the boy eat. He bundled him up in beautiful furs and presented him to Lilith in the middle of the night. She screamed and dropped the baby, knowing fully well this was dark magic.

“This is your son!” Malekith shouted with delight. “He needs you! He needs to feed from his mother!” Lilith backed away from it, cowering away from the baby. Angry, Malekith towered over Lilith and grabbed her dress. He threw her towards the deformed infant who still crawled its way closer to Lilith. Its fingers reach for her arm. She screamed in terror.

“Mmm,” it said.

“He’s talking! Drovas is talking!” Malekith doted over his newborn’s unusual development. Drovas’ fingers touched his new mother. His nails dug into her skin. He ripped her dress open and began to feed from her. Lilith attempted to escape, but Malekith held her down.

“This is your son now. Our son. The new King,” Malekith maliciously whispered in her ear. Lilith winced at Drovas biting down on her, feeding on her blood as much as he fed from her breastmilk. The next morning, the infant was now a child, fully clothed and able to speak. No one knows when it started. Perhaps it was his older age or the loss he suffered over the years. King Malekith wouldn’t let anyone see or touch Drovas and Lilith. The rest of his daughters had either ran back to the Light Elves kingdom, or suffered under his careful eye. His Hand tried to make meetings without him involved. It was obvious now. The King was going mad, but he was still King.

Lord Tytus held his wife in their shared bed. Her hands stroked his hair, his eyes wide. “I am a terrible person.”

“Ty, you did not kidnap and gather these boy armies together. You did not make the order. He did,” his wife consoled him. Tytus moved from the bed to the map that was laid out in front of him. Pieces were particularly shined and placed carefully throughout the map. His fingers hovered over Viking ships.

“Lord Odin and Lord Francis have made quite the alliance with their children, Thor and Sif. His other son, Loki, is growing in numbers. He’s taken the Highgarden girl as his wife and taken the Eyrie. The Frost Giants are flocking away from Odin to join his side.”

“Does the boy possess some charm? He is the Dark Prince of the Iron Islands,” his wife chuckled. Tytus shook his head.

“Do not mock the boy,” Tytus said. “I’ve heard word from my spies. He’s powerful in magic. As it turns out, he is also a frost giant. He was taken as a prize for Odin. He’s struck out on his own to take the throne himself.”

“How many does that make it?”

“Three.” Tytus rounded the map and looked to the South. “Odin and Loki have their race towards us, along with the Light Elves. They have chosen their leader as well.”

“Should we be concerned?” His wife held a shawl close to her body. The air was getting colder. The sun set so early now. Winter was coming.

“No,” Tytus shook his head. “I’m sending my spiders out to do dirty work.”

“Spiders?” his wife inquired. She looked back at the table and then her husband. “You’ve sent our girls. Where are they?”

“They’re off in different directions. I’ve sent them across the Nine Kingdoms. We may not have strong forces or allies, but we do have our girls. Our spiders. Crawling their way throughout the kingdoms to cripple our opponents.” His wife looked over at a spider piece, the initials BS craved into the back.

“What is Bela doing at the Eyrie? You told me Loki left that place.”

“He did. That’s why we’re taking it back.”

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