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Kenna woke just before dawn. After her encounter with Prince Loki in the library she hadn't returned to the slave quarters. Instead she had slipped out to the shed in the royal gardens and slept on the small pallet she had made there long ago. Most nights she stayed in the slave quarters but she had needed time alone.  

Her time in the library felt foggy. More so than is should have considering she had only fall asleep for a little while. She cupped her forehead as she tried not to think too hard about the Prince of Asgard. She had vowed long ago to never show weakness to an Asgardian. But, when he found her, instead of punishing her for her presence as he should have, he had been kind to her. She closed her eyes as she remembered the look of concern that had burned in the Prince's emerald eyes. It all seemed so strange considering the prince's reputation. Why would the trickster of Asgard care how a slave felt? 

She shook her head. The prince was an Asgardian and they weren't to be trusted and certainly weren't to be befriended. She had been in 'The Realm Eternal' long enough to know that. Besides that, she was nothing but a slave.

She climbed angrily to her feet, making up the pallet once more. She straightened her dress and her hair, and splashed water on her face from the small bucket she kept in the shed. She needed to stay far away from the Prince of Asgard.

She picked up a bucket of bulbs and a small shovel. She headed out to the far corner of the garden. She had work that needed to be done, and she was never disturbed in an area so far from the main path. Some time alone was exactly what she needed. Maybe she would prune the bushes in the opposite far corner tomorrow just to give herself more time to herself.

The dawn light was just beginning to illuminate the garden as she walked. She breathed the fresh scent of plants and living things. It calmed her in a way she had never fully understood. She loved this time of day when the dew was fresh and the world was quiet. When things were peaceful and she could almost pretend she was here in this lovely garden because she wanted to be.

She turned a corner and crashed face first into something solid. Someone solid. She grunted and nearly fell, but they caught her by the arms, straightening her. 

"For some reason I always expected an elf to be more graceful," Prince Loki's voice rumbled sardonically in the chest she had run into.

Kenna jerked back, fighting to keep her balance once more as she straightened. She was normally composed and fairly light on her feet, but for some reason she seemed utterly determined to make a fool of herself when Prince Loki was around.

She stood straight, bowing to the prince. "You are up early Prince Loki," she said, keeping her eyes firmly glued to the ground between the two of them.

"Not really," Loki replied casually.

He felt a little bad for startling the slave and making her stumble, but he wanted to check if the magic within her had remained quiet. He needed an excuse to touch her so he wouldn't scare her any more than she already seemed to be around him. The magic surged through him as it had the first time they touched, but it didn't feel as though it were attacking her. He stopped speaking and waited for Kenna to acknowledge him. The small slave wasn't looking at him. She was keeping her strange eyes maddeningly glued to his boots. 

He waited

It took several moments, but after a while her impatience got the best of her. He bit back a smirk. He didn't know why, but while it vexed him when he could drive others to irritation so easily, like Sif during training, it amused him to see that spark flare in her midnight eyes.

Kenna gritted her teeth and finally looked up at the Prince, fighting to keep her impatience off her face. Was he doing this on purpose? Was this what the other servants meant about him being a trickster? It didn't seem like it. When they spoke of the younger prince it sounded as though he played pranks, this felt more deliberate.

She finally allowed herself to look up at his face and was surprised to see there were bags under the prince's eyes that combined his fair complexion looked like bruises. They made her realize he must not have gone to bed after their encounter in the library. She frowned at the sight of his tired eyes. "What can I do for you prince?" she asked, her voice soft. 

Loki held himself perfectly still. It was rare for Kenna to look him in the eye so openly and to appear so calm now that her impatience had waned. He remembered back to the night before when she had seemed so afraid of him. Now she was looking at him with something akin to concern, but he couldn't be sure.

"I was just-" Loki began and he frowned. There were so many other things going on right now, but his curiosity over what had happened in the library the night before was dangerously distracting. "I was wondering if you were okay...after last night," he added. 

Confusion crossed the slave's face, and Loki realized she had no memory or knowledge of the magic the surrounded her and what had transpired between them. The mystery would have to wait for another day. 

Loki cleared his throat and glanced around them, so he didn't make her uncomfortable. "Tell me, is there any of the Warrag plant in this garden?" Loki had seen a drawing of the herb in a book, but even this small private garden was extensive and he didn't have all day to search for the plant that may not even be here.

He had spent most of an uncomfortable night reading every thing he could find about Harokin. If even a quarter of the tales were based on truth then Heimdall's report was deeply troubling. There was more research to be done, and he needed to be able to turn his entire focus to the issue of Harokin. Whatever had transpired with the foreign magic in his system it had slowed his natural healing process. 

"Warrag, Prince?" Kenna asked in confusion. She let her eyes run slowly up and down the prince's body, taking in every aspect from how he was standing to where his hands were. He hadn't seemed injured the night before, and even out in the gardens she was sure she would have heard if there had been trouble overnight. She stared at his body, trying to figure out where and how he might be hurt, but it was difficult to tell under the layers of leather and cloth he wore. When she finally looked back up at his face he was smirking at her with a quirked eye brow.

Kenna's eyes widen as she realized she had been caught staring. She quickly looked away. "Are you injured prince?" She asked in a quiet tone as she stared down at her hands. "I could fetch a healer."

Loki watched as a blush crept across Kenna's skin. It surprised him. He had certainly had his share of lovers, but most preferred his brother or Fandral. He was too tall and too slim for most Asgardian woman to be caught staring. Though now that he had made Kenna blush he found it even more entertaining than exasperating her.

"Ah, no healer," Loki said seriously, he needed to focus on the task at hand. "If you could just point me in the direction of the herb I will leave you to your work."

Kenna frowned at that and he watched as she tightened her jaw. "No one cuts the plants in this garden except me," she said with a new found confidence. "I can't do so unless you tell me exactly what you need it for so I may determine the necessary amount."

Loki sucked in a breath. He could force the issue, bark out an order at the small woman, but he didn't want that. He felt somehow if he did that, she would never speak to him again. Oh he was certain she would respond if given a direct order but nothing beyond that. She would never let him see those tiny peaks of personality that resided behind the subservient mask she had no doubt donned in order to survive. 

Also, he had questions for her. Questions only she could answer in relation to the Harokin issue and once that was resolved the greater mystery of the magic surrounding her. If he wanted her to trust him, he realized he was going to have to show her that he trusted her. 

He sighed dramatically and glanced around as though checking to make sure no one else was nearby to overhear them. Though he knew for a fact they were alone. He had placed wards on the doors when he entered the garden looking for her. Nothing that would stop anyone from entering, but he would know as soon as someone crossed the threshold.

"I was injured yesterday in training. A few broken ribs is all. I would like some Warrag to aid in the healing," Loki paused and looked down at the slave. "I don't wish to have anyone know..." he dragged off the words.

Kenna regarded the prince thoughtfully. If he was injured he should see the healers. Curiosity raged within her, why would a prince of Asgard hesitate to visit his own healers? She wasn't familiar enough with the politics in the palace to know the answer to that. Frankly, she had never cared enough to pay much attention to anything beyond her little corner of precious earth.

She forced herself to bite back the questions that were on the tip of her tongue by pressing her lips together. The prince was watching her carefully, she was surprised he had trusted her with this information which he was clearly possessive of. Though who would believe a slave? If she betrayed his trust he could easily dispatch her with few ramifications...and yet...he had trusted her and been kind to her, and those things counted for something in Kenna's life.

She nodded slowly, chewing her lip thoughtfully. "I will fetch it," she said with a bow of her head and she turned to walk down the path. "Meet me in the potting shed," she called over her shoulder.

Loki wanted to follow her and see where the plant was and how she harvested it. His curiosity was peaked, but she was willing to help him and he wouldn't push the issue. So he returned to the small shed and waited.

Without her there he allowed himself to look around the shed more freely. It was obvious she spent a great deal of time here and not just attending to her work in the garden. The corner with the small pallet also had another dress and a small bucket of clean water. He walked around and though it was apparent it was used daily there were no personal items. 

He closed his eyes and pushed his power out until he could feel the entirety of the small space. There was no power here, not even a remnant of magic. Whatever had it's hooks in the small elf was tied directly to her person. Somehow being here felt intrusive despite this entire garden belonging to his family. It was obvious this was her small corner of the world and he respected that, drawing his power back within himself. Once his power was tucked away his hands began to tremble. He needed to rest and to heal. Even the small use of his power had drained him. 

When Kenna returned half an hour later she found Prince Loki sitting at the small table his hands resting lightly on the top, his eyes closed. She pulled the door shut silently behind her, but somehow he had seemed to sense her and his eyes snapped open.

"I'm sorry prince," she said sincerely. If it were possible he looked even more exhausted than before. His pale skin sallow. He needed a healer. She set the small basket of cuttings on the far end of the table from the prince and stepped towards the hearth. She moved in some kindling and looked up at him, lifting an eyebrow expectantly.

Loki chuckled at the impish glimmer in her eyes. Even knowing it would exhaust him further, he wouldn't deny her. He held out his hand, summoning a green flame. He rolled it through his fingers for a moment, waiting for her eyes to light with impatience. When she huffed in frustration he finally threw it into the heart of the fire with a small smirk.

Kenna shook her head wondering why the prince suddenly seemed to delight in vexing her when she was trying to help him. It was interesting to see this more playful side of the normally withdrawn and studious prince. She picked up a kettle, filled it with water, and hung it over the dancing green flames. She glanced back at the prince curiously and found him watching her.

She turned away, returning to her small pile of herbs. She took out a cutting board, and a mortar and pedestal. She could feel his eyes on her as she took out the first herbs and began to skin them, but she never looked up. When finished with the first she scrapped it into the mortar bowl and began to finely chop the second.

The kettle whistled and Kenna moved from the table and lifted it off. Loki watched as she pulled a small tin down and made a cup of tea. She set it in front of him and then returned to the herbs she had gathered. He looked on in confusion as she placed more ingredients in the mortar and began grinding with the small pedestal.

When she saw him hesitating she paused. "The tea is for you Prince Loki," she said as though he were a simpleton. 

He glanced back at the herbs in her hand in confusion.

"Normally the healers put the Warrag in the tea," he said carefully, not wanting to insult her or discourage her offer of help.

Kenna rolled her eyes. "Yes I'm aware how your healers administer Warrag," she said dismissively. "I assure you my way will provide faster relief."

Loki frowned for a moment and then understanding dawned. "Warrag was imported from Alfheim," he said, suddenly remembering his herb lore.

Kenna nodded but didn't look up from her work. The pedestal made a quiet rhythmic noise as she ground the herbs together.

"But you don't call it that..." he said thoughtfully.

Kenna glanced up at him for only a second, pain flaring in her eyes, before looking back at the concoction in her hands. "No, I believe the elves once called it Warrjoliam," she said quietly. Her lilting accent rolling the elvish word over her tongue.

Loki frowned and thought for a moment. "War balm?" He asked uncertainly.

Kenna nodded and carried the small bowl over to the cupboard in the corner. 

"You said, you believe?" he inquired casually. 

Kenna paused in her work and looked up at the prince. "I don't have many memories of my homeland," she said her voice tight. She coughed once and grimaced before she shook her head as though to clear it and returned to her work. She pulled out a couple of small bottles and jars adding a few pinches of ingredients without comment.

Loki was watching her every move, trying to determine what was so special about this one little elf slave. "So the tea...?" Loki asked curiously.

Kenna hesitated for a moment and then looked up at the prince. She met his gaze for only a brief moment before she looked away. "It's for you to drink. You look exhausted Prince and I am assuming whatever has kept you awake all night had something to do with the war council and will continue to require your attention. And I'm assuming that even though you need it, you will not rest, no matter how badly your body requires it to heal."

Loki was slightly taken aback. No one aside from Frigga had ever cared enough to take it upon themselves to do something altruistic for him. And the fact that a slave would do so...he glanced up at her and found her watching him. He quickly reached for the tea. He didn't want to hurt her feelings after she had gone to the effort to make it for him. He frowned down at the cup as foreign flavors splashed across his tongue.

He looked up at Kenna in surprise. "What tea is this?" He asked. It was sweeter than any he had ever tasted and yet the flavors were so complex he couldn't pick out a single one.

Kenna glanced up at him through the curtain of her hair. "Do you not like it?" She asked watching him sniff at the cup.

"No I do," he assured her quickly. "I have just never tasted it before. I was wondering where you got it."

Kenna stilled for a second and her eyes narrowed. "I didn't steal it if that's what you mean."

Loki cocked his head and lifted a brow. "That's not what I meant...though if you did steal it, I want to know where from so I might steal some for myself," he flashed her a cocky grin.

She shook her head and looked away. "I made it," she confessed. "It's similar to a brew from home I think, though...I don't remember and not all the herbs grow here, so...I improvised."

"Well, its good." Loki nodded and raised the tin cup to her in cheers. The tea somehow made him feel both calm and refreshed. Another day he would have to ask for more.

Once the prince was sipping his tea in silence once more Kenna turned her attention back to the paste she had made. She scooped it out of the mortar and placed it in a small jar. She screwed on the lid and set it down on the table before the prince with a click.

He looked at the jar and then up at her. After a moment she spoke. "Spread that on your ribs and wherever else you are injured but don't want to say. It will aid in healing and ease the pain better than a thousand cups of Eir's tea."

Loki felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. She was at home here in her small hut, surrounded by her herbs, and it seemed to give her confidence to be herself. When she saw his smile she turned away and started cleaning up.

"Thank you," he said sipping his tea slowly to extend their time together.

"Just doing my duty." She responded stiffly as though she were suddenly uncomfortable with their banter.

Loki shook his head. "Sharing the knowledge of the elves with another race that has subjugated you is above and beyond your duty."

Kenna nodded but didn't look at him. 

After a moment of silence Loki cleared his throat. "May I ask you a question?" He asked.

She turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised clearly acknowledging he was asking one already. He shook his head, his face grave. He wasn't playing now. "A serious question?"

Kenna chewed on the inside of her lip and nodded slowly. Then for some reason in that moment she felt irrationally brave. "If I may ask one of you in return."

Loki nodded, a grim smile on his face and she was suddenly worried she would not enjoy the nature of his question.

"How old were you when you left Alfheim?" He asked.

She flinched at his words as though he had struck her and he was angry at himself for having to ask. He should have left her alone, but if War came with Harokin even she would be affected.

She licked her lips. "Maybe twelve..." she said her voice breaking. "I'm not sure anymore...it's...foggy," she drew off and she subconsciously reached up to touch the bronze collar that encircled her neck. 

A nagging feeling of deja vu irritated Loki in the back of his mind. Some forgotten memory irked him, but he had to focus now. He needed the information on Harokin. "What is left there?" He asked gently. "I have only been there once and I don't remember it well. I was very young."

Kenna looked down at her hands and had to sink her teeth into the inside of her cheek to keep the tears from falling. "I don't remember being there. Not a single day," she confessed. "But from the rumors...nothing is left there. They say when the dark elves came and killed they Light Elves they destroyed all life in Alfheim, not just the elves themselves, but the world and everything on it. Legend says the Dark Elves cursed the land. They say nothing can live there..." Kenna looked down at her hands and was curious to note that they were trembling. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand to cover a single cough. 

Loki noticed and he reached out without thinking to touch her arm to reassure her somehow. Kenna froze just before he would have touched her skin and he slowly drew his hand back. It had been instinctual, he had forgotten the magic that would only attack him further if give half a a chance. 

"So," Loki pressed cautiously. "If one had an army and was in Alfheim..."

Kenna frowned at his words and shook her head. "There would be nothing, nothing there to feed them, no way to support them. There is no water, no plants," the tears were burning the backs of her eyes now and she wasn't sure how long she would be able to keep it together. But she couldn't cry in front of an Asgardian. "They say all that's left are ruins."

Loki nodded at her words. So if Harokin was there, it was unlikely his army could be. Not without some kind of aid. He needed to speak with Heimdall. "Thank you," Loki said in a gentle voice.

Kenna nodded fighting back tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks.

"Would you like to ask your question now?" Loki asked gently, he set aside his cup and stood. She was upset and he didn't want to make matters worse. "Or prefer to wait another day?"

Kenna closed her eyes for a moment, even thinking about her homeland was uncomfortable. The memories seemed to burn no matter how much time had passed. When she opened her eyes Prince Loki was looking down at her cautiously. She could see the regret in his eyes but she wasn't sure if it was over agreeing to let her ask a question or her being upset. The later seemed unlikely. Why would a prince care about upsetting a slave?

She cleared her threat and lifted her chin to meet his gaze. "Why don't you want the healers to know you were injured?"

Loki pulled back at her question surprised she would think to ask it. For a moment he debated lying to her. He could come up with an excuse and leave. She was a lowly slave...and yet, when he trusted her, she had trusted back. That was not something he could in good conscience betray. "Because I don't want them to think I'm weak," he finally confessed.

Kenna frowned and shook her head. "You are many things prince, but certainly not weak."

Loki smiled faintly at her and just nodded not looking convinced. He took his jar and headed for the door. He bowed his head in thanks.

"Prince Loki," Kenna called after him and he turned to face her. "If you have other questions about Alfheim...I will work harder to remember."

He nodded.

"And," she called, stopping him once more. "Your secret is safe with me."

Loki met her gaze, and sincerity burned in his eyes. "I know."

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I hope you are enjoying the story!