Our Song Lives On

Prologue: One Winter's Night

The party was in full swing. The guests were dancing, servants were serving, and The Prince and his bride-to-be were the center of attention.

Amora couldn't have been happier. After Thor revealed he did not reciprocate her feelings for him, she fled Asguard and by chance met The Prince. It didn't take long for the two to become romantically involved, though the marriage proposal did surprise her.

The blond wore a long flowing green gown that twirled every time The Prince spun her. He dipped her and felt his arm ever tighten around her to prevent her from falling. Everything was as perfect as could be.

Until a horned gold helmet caught Amora's eye. "Is something wrong, beloved?"

"Of course not. Will you excuse me for a moment?"

He caught her hand and planted a light kiss, "I await your return."

Amora glided across the ballroom to the door to the main hallway. She shut the door and looked out into the darkness. "Come out Trickster, before I make you."

A cloud of smoke appeared and out stepped a man clad in black with a green cape, his helmet glinting in the candle light. "As if you could make me do anything Enchantress."

"Should we test that theory, Laufeyson?"

Loki walked past her to look through the window overlooking the gardens. "Sadly, not today. I came for a reason."

Amora stood beside him, locking her gaze on the rose bushes, "You could have just come through the front door, you know."

"Wearing this?" Amora lowered her gaze to the floor, The Prince did not know yet of her godly heritage. "Besides, I wasn't invited."

"With good reason. You lied and embarrassed me."

"To be fair, I completely forgot about the Midguardian, what was her name?"

Amora massaged the bridge of her nose, frustration clear on her face, "Why are you here, Loki?"

"To warn you."

"Warn me?! As if you'd care about my well being!"

"Believe what you'd like! But we are the strongest sorcerers that ever walked Aguard's Hall of Learning. We are not beloved by The All Father, we are not even remotely liked by Asguard, and, despite my faults, are we not still friends?"

Amora looked at the man beside her, fingers twitching, eager to run through his dark hair. "I'm listening."

"As I said, I'm here to warn you. Your betrothed is not as he appears."

Amora scoffs, "I knew it! You speak of friendship and then talk of lies!" She looks to storm off down the hall but Loki catches her arm.

"I am your friend! And as a friend, let me show you your future husband's true nature!"

He pulls her to the door she came from and opens it.

Her voice, and heart catches in her throat.

The Prince is mere feet away, surrounded by and flirting with various countesses, princesses, and other female royalty.

Loki approached her, "To him, you are nothing but another pretty face to stand next to in portraits. I may be the God of Mischief, but I do not lie."
Amora clutched her chest, heart writhing in pain, eyes churning silent tear after tear. Then reality came back into focus. She stepped out into the crowd and the last thing Loki saw was her eyes glowing green with her rage.