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Frigga walked away from the library, her brow still knit with concern over her son. She wound her hands together, uncertain if giving him the scroll had been the right thing to do. There was dangerous magic contained within the scroll.  Powerful magic. She had seen his eyes light when his own power reacted to the magic contained within the scroll. She knew better than anyone how seductive the call of that power could be.

But she reminded herself that it had not been mere chance that led her to share her knowledge of magic with only her younger son. While Loki could be more sensitive than Thor he was far less likely to act rashly. Where Thor could be impulsive and selfish, Loki had proven himself capable of handling the temptation and the responsibility that came with such power since he was young.  She took a deep breath and set off down the corridor. She trusted Loki with the scroll and to make the right decision for Asgard. Her sons were often a study in contradictions. While Thor was the elder and heir of the throne, she often felt as though Loki showed a greater capacity and understanding of what true leadership meant.

She went to the garden first, seeking out the slave Loki had seemed to have befriended over the last couple weeks. It was rare for Loki to seek out the company of anyone in the palace, preferring his solitude while studying, but her servants had informed her otherwise. Now, she was worried about Loki and she knew better than to send one of her own servants into the library to check on him even under the pretense of delivering his meal. He would no doubt snap at them or worse, punish them, for doing Frigga's bidding. The light elf however, she thought might escape her brooding son's ire.

Frigga found the elf, kneeling on the path, tending to a sickly looking bunch of small, violet plants which were no more than a few inches tall. Frigga paused, watching the elf gently pull the soil back with her hands, then pour the water over the back of her hand so it ran down her finger tips and into the soil without further damaging the vulnerable plants.

"Do light elves possess a magic that aids the plants? Or do you simply possess an affinity for living things?" Frigga asked, interrupting the girl's work.

Kenna snapped her head up to see Queen Frigga standing over her. She was surprised she hadn't heard her enter the garden. She immediately bowed her head and held it, waiting on the queen. After a moment the queen shifted her weight and Kenna glanced up to see her looking on expectantly. That's when Kenna remembered the queen had asked her a question.

She looked back at the dying plants. Using them as an excuse to not look at the Queen. Kenna didn't trust her ability to control her expression as she spoke. "A slave is not permitted magic Queen Frigga and I am told the magic of the Light Elves was lost with the destruction of Alfheim," Kenna responded. It was unusual for the Queen to visit the gardens at this time of day, and even more so for her to take an interest in what Kenna was doing.

Frigga frowned. "The knowledge can still be found in some of their ancient texts," Frigga said, the elves had been known for their control of magic, earth magic in particular. She wasn't sure why, but it had never occurred to her that was another of the many things lost that day on Alfheim.

Kenna kept her eyes firmly glued to the soil beneath her hands. "Texts of magic are forbidden for a slave to read." She shouldn't have said it, but for some reason she found she couldn't seem to keep her tongue in check either.

Instead of looking mad, Frigga simply nodded noncommittally and looked down at the dying plants. "What is the matter with them?" She asked changing the subject, she was a little surprised the slave had spoken so freely. In all her past interactions with Kenna the willowy woman had been extremely submissive and circumspect. She wondered that Loki was a poor influence on the girl.

Kenna looked back at the wilted leaves. "They were transplants," she explained. She cleared her throat then and lifted her chin. "Sometimes things don't do well when taken from everything they have ever known."

Frigga cocked her head as she regarded the small slave, Loki was indeed a poor influence. Though she could see why Loki would be amused with the girl's company. She was a clever little thing with a sharp tongue. She was also lovely, if a bit odd looking. While not traditionally beautiful as most Asgardians, if one could get past the ears and her odd eyes Kenna was indeed lovely for an elf. She could see why Loki enjoyed spending time with her. She was pleased her son had finally found a servant in the palace he felt he could trust. She, Thor and Odin all had trusted personal servants, only Loki seemed to prefer solitude. She hoped one day her son would find someone he could confide in. He spent far too much time alone.

"And yet other transplants seem to have spread their roots and flourished...even grew beyond their initial planting..." Frigga said thoughtfully as she reached out and ran her fingers over the delicate flowers of a thorsom plant which grew along the path.

Kenna looked away from the queen, uncertain what to say. Could the queen possibly know she had disobeyed the rules, handled books of magic, and been in an area of the palace she was not supposed to be in? By all accounts the queen was well within her power to punish her. She dropped her shoulders, tucking her chin to her chest, hoping the queen would forgo the traditional punishment.

Frigga looked back at the elf. She was staring at the ground and hadn't moved. Kenna seemed almost frightened suddenly and she didn't know what had changed. She couldn't imagine Loki enjoying the company of such a mercurial, submissive little thing. So the submission was more than likely an act. Frigga made note of that. While it might serve her purposes tonight, it could prove a dangerous trait long term in a slave. Especially one with this particular slave's history. Her eyes dropped to the slave collar and she was content to see it was in place and appeared undamaged.

Frigga lifted her gaze to meet the disquieting inky black eyes of the slave. "My son will not be joining the feast this evening. See to it that a tray is brought to him in the library," she commanded.

Kenna went very still, and slowly lifted her eyes to meet the gaze of the queen in confusion. "A tray?" Kenna asked. She was not a member of the kitchen staff. Frigga knew this. 

Frigga frowned at the elf, wondering if perhaps the girl was rather simple. "Yes, from the kitchen," she repeated.

"To the library," Kenna clarified. Taking a tray to the library could only mean Loki. She couldn't imagine Thor missing an evenings festivities. Kenna wasn't certain what to make of the sudden excitement that coursed through her at the prospect of visiting the prince in the library. She told herself it was simply the prospect of being in the library once more.

"Indeed," Frigga said. She drew in a breath and wondered if she would regret her next words. "Please bring my son his dinner, see he has all he needs, and...and make sure that he is all right."

Kenna met the queen's gaze and understanding dawned as she saw the concern etched into the queen's beautiful face. Something must have happened. Something that upset Loki enough to keep him from joining his family. She only hoped it wasn't something from his previous injury, something perhaps he should have visited the healers over. She wasn't sure why, but it seemed the Queen believed she was the one that should check on the prince.

Kenna bowed. "I will make sure the prince has everything he requires," she promised.

Frigga nodded. "And if there is anything...anything at all I need to do. Come tell me immediately." Frigga ordered.

Kenna nodded and then waited until Frigga left the garden before turning away. She picked up her tools and tended the last few things that needed her attention before nightfall. Then she returned to the shed, put her tools away and cleaned up. Even with the queens orders the witch who ran the kitchen would send her away if she saw even a speck of dirt. Once satisfied she was presentable and would not be sent away in shame Kenna hurried down to the kitchens. The cook was unimpressed and angry over the queen's interference, but finally relented in handing over the prince's dinner.

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Loki poured over the ancient scroll his mother had given him. It took time to translate the archaic form of elvish. After a couple of hours Loki's fingers still tingled from coming into contact with the magic contained within the scroll. The spells were complex, fascinating and powerful. It was no wonder Frigga had guarded the scroll personally, keeping it's ancient knowledge from the main collection where anyone might stumble upon it. There was so much knowledge to be gained from it, but there was only one spell that mattered to Loki tonight.

It took more power than he was used to spending and maintaining, but with practice he was certain he would be able to manage. Taking a deep breath he summoned his magic to him and let the illusion flow out and surround him. He felt it cling to him eagerly like a second skin. The more often he used it and the longer he maintained it the easier it would become, until like the illusions he used most often it was second nature. Knowing there was only one way to truly test it he stepped out onto the balcony and looked out towards the Bifrost.

"Heimdall, answer me if you can hear me," Loki called in a loud, clear voice.

Nothing.

Loki cleared his throat and spoke louder still putting a push of power into his voice. "Heimdall, as your prince I command you, answer me at once."

Nothing.

"Heimdall you are a weak, cowardly toad whose sycophantic worship of my father is sickening to all those who behold it."

A soft knock at the door make Loki jump. The spell snapped and he grimaced as the power rebounded. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to Heimdall to explain his last words. With his heart in his throat he swallowed and lifted his chin defiantly. "Enter," he commanded, drawing the ward away from the threshold and back into himself.

The door clicked open and Kenna stepped inside, a tray of food in her hands. "Prince Loki," she greeted, curtsying respectfully.

"Kenna," Loki responded in surprise. Kenna was not a member of the kitchen staff. He looked down at the tray of food in her hands and sighed. His mother's meddling. He knew better than to think any secrets could be kept in the palace. No doubt his mother's nosy servants had already noted the time he had spent with Kenna, and his mother assumed correctly he would be more receptive to Kenna's presence. If his father was wise he would forgo using his warriors as Asgardian scouts and spies and recruit solely from his mothers personal servants.

Kenna took his acknowledgement as invitation and stepped further into the room. She closed the door behind her with a bump of her hip. Loki watched as she turned and looked to him. She arched a dark brow as she waited for him to give her a command. Kenna was a distraction he couldn't afford right now.

"Just on the desk please," he said and he turned back towards the shelves.

Kenna hesitated, watching the prince's movements carefully for any signs that his injury had grown worse. His movements however were quick and confident as he disappeared into the stacks. Which meant if it wasn't an injury, something else had happened. Her mind went back to his questions that morning about an army in Alfheim. At the time she had been too consumed by her own worries to think more on it, but now she wondered at it being related to the war council of the previous day.

With the spell seeming to work, Loki needed a plan. He moved through the stacks towards an area filled with rolled up maps of each of the realms. He pulled out several he was searching for, carried them back into the main part of the room and spread them across the large table in the center of the room.

He had found a way to keep Heimdall from seeing him. He was considered a master of magic within Asgard but he was not so vain to believe there were not others more powerful then himself who might manage the same task. Therefore, if it could be done, he would assume it was being done. Now he just needed to find a way into Alfheim. He could conceal himself from Heimdall's gaze and see for himself if there was a greater threat lurking in the shadows of the realm.

He studied the maps, listening to Kenna removing the items from the tray, and setting them out on his desk. Perhaps it was just him, but it seemed as though she were moving slowly, prolonging her time in the library. He wondered briefly if she was reporting back to his mother, but he quickly dismissed it. If Frigga had even caught a hint that he might have been injured she would have forced him to the healers.

After a few moments he heard her quiet tread move across the marble floors, but he didn't turn around. He knew if he did he might startle her. She approached the table slowly and when he cautiously glanced up he found her studying the map. A small line of concentration between her dark eyes.

"They are the maps of the other realms," he said unnecessarily.

Kenna flinched at the sound of his voice but didn't look away. Her slim, graceful fingers traced along the edges of the map. "It is Alfheim," she said in a low, breathy voice. She cleared her throat and frowned. "They are incomplete," she spoke so softly he barely heard her.

Loki frowned and stepped closer, looking down at the area she was studying. "Where?" he asked.

Kenna grimaced for a moment and reached up and touched her head.  "I'm...not sure," she replied honestly. 

Loki watched as the slaves slim, graceful fingers traced along a section of the map that was blank. Her eyes were faraway. For a moment it seemed as though she would open her mouth and tell him what was missing. But then she flinched once more, grimacing for a second in pain and her hand came up to shift the collar around her neck. 

When she looked up, she realized the Asgardian prince was standing once inches from her, studying the blank places her fingers were tracing on the map. She felt her eyes widen and she stumbled back a step, putting space between her and the prince. 

She straightened and lifted her eyes to meet Loki's. His eyes were clouded in confusion as he looked back and forth between her and the map.

"Your dinner," she said, gesturing to the food she had laid out across the table. "Is there anything else you require Prince?" she asked, bowing submissively.

Loki stepped towards her. "Please Kenna," he said, his eyes imploring. "If you know a way, please. My brother and my father..." he dragged off, looking back at the maps. "There must be a way to prevent a loss of life."

She frowned up at him in confusion. "What do you mean?" she asked guardedly.

He licked his lips, seeing a glimmer of hope that he might be able to convince her to help him. "Harokin was a general of Asgard before my grandfather was born. Once he had a great army at his disposal. Asgardian legend says they were cursed for betraying his king, but Harokin was cursed worst of all, for he desired power...other legends say he derived his power not from a curse, but from a sorceress. A dark elf whom he loved. Together they gained immortal life and they built an army of it...it's hard to tell fact from fiction," Loki allowed, as he watched Kenna's face. "But Heimdall sees Harokin in Alfheim. I do not believe he would be there alone. Not without some purpose. If there is a sorceress involved then I believe she may be concealing his army as they prepare to march on Asgard. Her magic could make it nearly impossible for the Asgardian warriors to kill them..."

She looked from the prince to the maps. She stepped forward, gazing down at them thoughtfully. The knowledge felt like it was just beyond her reach. If she strained she could just start to see it. Flashes of her as a child with a quill in her hand drawing in the very places that were now under her fingers. A blinding flash of pain surged behind her eye and the image was lost. 

Loki, completely unaware of Kenna's internal struggle continued. He laced his fingers together and pressed his fists against his forehead. "The Allfather won't listen to me. He has forbidden even a scouting party entering Alfheim. Thor isn't helping, my brother can't see past his desire for glory in battle. We cannot risk bringing our men in there to die. Harokin was once a great general of Asgard, he knows all of our strategies before Thor has even thought of them." Loki scrubbed at his tired and gritty eyes, it had been two days since he slept. Three was normally his maximum before he would collapse, his body forcing him to rest whether he wished to or not.

"What of Heimdall?" she asked, tugging at the uncomfortable collar.

Loki looked back up at her troubled face which was illuminated by the flickering torches as she studied the maps spread across the table. He debated confiding completely in her, he needed to discuss this with someone, someone who would listen. Kenna had proven herself trustworthy before. He drew the spell around the two of them. It was tougher to hold it around two, but it didn't take as much energy as it did the last time he had used it. His power seemed to remember and adjust. "I mastered a spell tonight that prevents Heimdall from seeing me. If I can do it, surely an immortal sorceress would be able to."

Kenna's eyes widened and she glanced towards the balcony.

"I am shielding us now," Loki assured her.

Kenna frowned. "So no one can see us?" she asked in surprise.

Loki shook his head.

"So..." Kenna drew off stepping up closer to the maps. "What do you propose to do? You can't mean to-" she started to say but the determined glint in the prince's eyes stopped the words in her throat. Her eyes widened in alarm and she looked back at the maps.

Loki pressed his mouth into a grim line. "If I can find a way to sneak into Alfheim I will see for myself what Harokin is up to. If it is only him, then Heimdall was right and we have nothing to fear. If however, there is an army there, my father must know."

Kenna chewed on her lip as she thought about what Loki was saying. If there was a sorceress keeping them alive through her magic, then the Asgardian army wouldn't stand a chance unless they were able to prepare. If the Asgardian army fell in Alfheim then Harokin's army would be free to march on Asgard virtually unchallenged.

She looked up at Loki, the prince had somehow figured that out and no one here would listen to him. She ground her teeth in frustration. Loki's eyes were wide and hopeful as he watched her, desperate for her to help him. This was a side of the prince most did not often see. He hid so often behind his arrogance and mischief. But he cared. He cared more than he wanted anyone to know. 

She frowned down at the incomplete maps of her home world. "There is one..." she said with absolute certainty, running her fingers along the edge of the map. Then she coughed and flinched, her fingers reaching up towards her neck. 

"What is it?" he asked in confusion. His eyes narrowed as she pulled once more against the slave collar. Against his better judgement he reached out and his fingers skimmed along the skin of her forearm. That same magic was raging within her. He was amazed it could be contained by her small form. He jerked his hand back as though her skin had burned him. 

She looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear and pain. "I-I can't remember."

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