A M O R A

The glances were the most difficult part. Everyone knew of Amora's close relationship with Loki and now that he had fallen, they expected her to do so as well. So they watched her--carefully--as if she was going to commit treason at any moment.

Her friends, too, watched her carefully. It was not rebellion that they expected, but surrender. They expected her to break.

Their concern was not unjustified; everything Amora had lost--her family, her sister, her mobility, her friend--had weakened her. Everything seemed to chip away at her once firm foundation, compromising its integrity.

And the damage was not caused by external forces alone. Her guilt was like ravenous insects, eating away at the inner structure of her mind and soul.

If I had just said something, anything, she always thought, I might have saved him.

She struggled to find ways to counteract the damage, but every glance and thought seemed to pound against her walls and test the fortitude of her mind.

But she had already shed all of the tears that she could muster, and she was unwilling to allow the rumors about her mental demise to become truth. And eventually, as the days became months, she began to heal. Both literally and metaphorically.

With her combat experience and healing capabilities, Amora was a natural choice for the role of the prison healer. At first, the additional responsibility only served as a distraction from her internal pain, but now it was a mission for her. Prisoners were easier to ignore and neglect than other patients, but if Loki had not taken his life, he would be among them. And the thought of him or Lorelei suffering and sickly wrenched Amora's heart.

Amora's passion for her work only grew and she was soon given a new and renowned position: mentor. Her young apprentice, Ana, gave her a stronger sense of purpose in her role in the healing halls.

After losing Loki, she had only wished to wallow in her sorrow and loss and fade away into nothingness. In her darkest moments, she had considered more violent ways to leave such a painful state. But now she had not only a purpose, but responsibilities. She could not leave Ana and the healers when the Frost Giant attack had weakened their numbers.

Initially, her meek self had found any leadership position intimidating, but such fear had led to Loki's death and she would not make that same mistake again. Now, Amora stood firmly, knowing where she belonged and was needed, having rebuilt her life after Loki.

However, a year after Loki's fall, Amora was called from a potion lesson with Ana to Frigga's chambers. As she made her way to see the queen, the healer silently prayed, Please, don't be about Theoric. Please, don't be about Theoric.

During a meal a few days prior, Thor had cautiously mentioned the possibility of a betrothal between the pair...and Amora had not berated or rebuked him.

How could she deny Theoric? He had always been a source of comfort and patience, even when she was heavily mourning the death of another man.

And Thor's words from that night echoed through her mind. You deserve happiness, Amora.

Could she find that with Theoric? It was true that her work and her companions gave her peace--joy, even--but occasionally, in quiet moments, Amora found herself sinking into a pit of sorrow. Could Theoric's presence cure her of such a melancholic state?

When she reached Frigga's chambers, Amora entered to find the queen staring intently at the small hearth before her and clutching a piece of cloth in her hands. The younger sorceress opened her mouth to speak but paused to regard her mentor.

Loki's death had taken an even more severe toll on Frigga. Outwardly, she was the same warm and regal figure as before, but when she was away from the kingdom's eyes, her sorrow threatened to overwhelm her.

Now Amora understood her friends' plight when she herself had been in such a state; she felt so helpless when faced with the empty look in Frigga's eyes. But Amora had managed to escape such a dark place and was determined to help the queen, as well.

Feeling intrusive, she allowed the closing of the door to make her presence known. The queen turned around and the mournful look in her eyes filled with hope; but it was such empty hope.

"Amora," Frigga greeted happily and set the cloth down before drawing her into a quick embrace. Pulling away, she gripped the younger woman's arms. "I have found an old enchantment that may help us find Loki."

The smile that Amora gave could not have been more forced. The two of them used to work together tirelessly in looking for Loki, but now, despite all signs confirming his demise, the queen had never wavered in her search.

Should I discourage her? This will only lead to more sorrow, Amora thought. But Frigga's uplifted spirits made her hesitate. Just once more. After this, we will be done.

"Really? How?"

Frigga turned excitedly to retrieve the garment and Amora briefly marveled at what a proficient liar she had become in the trickster's company. When the queen turned to face her, Amora realized what the cloth was: one of Loki's old shirts.

"Long ago, wielders of magic would locate an individual by using the aura from a burnt possession," a flash of hesitancy flickered across Frigga's face, "but I cannot do this alone. This spell requires two sorceresses to complete it."

Amora paused, afraid of what she would see when tapping into the aura of her dead friend. Would it bring all of the pain of his loss back? Would she fall once again into a pit of misery and sorrow?

But seeing the hope in Frigga's eyes made it nearly impossible to refuse, so she nodded. "What must I do?"

With a relieved smile, the queen took her hand and pulled her to sit on a nearby sofa. Handing Amora an aged parchment, she explained, "After we burn his shirt, this incantation will harness the energy and allow one of us to see him."

Amora took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright. Let's do it."

Frigga looked down at the cloth and took a moment to run her fingers along its soft fabric. Then, she turned to the hearth and tossed the shirt into the flames. The two sorceresses clasped their hands together and began reading the incantation.

As they quietly chanted, the flames of the hearth began to take a green hue and Amora's heart began to pound with resurrected hope. Her mind screamed at her to not get her hopes up, but her heart could not deny the chance of somehow finding him alive.

Suddenly, Frigga's grip tightened and she became silent. Amora jerked her head up to see the queen staring with her mouth agape. But the sight almost made the brunette recoil in fear; Frigga's eyes were wide open, but they were dark, as though the expanse of space was held in her gaze.

Amora opened her mouth to say something--anything--to pull Frigga out of such a dark place, but one word from the queen silenced her.

"Loki."

Every emotion following his fall came rushing back to Amora, as though just the mere utterance of his name ripped off the bandage that had mended her pain. The newfound hope that overtook her held almost the innocence of a child's plea.

A heavy gasp ripped Amora out of her thoughts and she looked up to see Frigga's eyes glistening with new tears and new hope.

"Loki," she whispered, "he's alive."

* * *

┌──────────────────┐
AMORA WILL RETURN
IN BURDENED
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And that is the end of Enchanted!! I can't believe it's done! This has been really fun and I'm glad that you stuck with me through it and got to enjoy it, too!

Words cannot express how much I appreciate you guys!

The events briefly described here will be detailed in flashbacks in the sequel! Let me know what moments of the past year you would like me to recount later!

I cannot wait to start writing the sequel! More details coming soon!!