Fete for A King

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The night of the fête Elora got ready with Yrsa in the princess's rooms. Yrsa had no ladies maid so Elora helped Yrsa don her dress leathers. A beautiful ensemble of dark leggings and a corseted top, stitched to resemble a breastplate, the outfit topped with a well fitted coat that flared out into an overskirt with a cathedral length train. The coat alone would have been a work of art, with golden stitching and heavily etched pauldrons worked into the garment itself, but with the outfit and Yrsa's sharp features and regal presence it became a masterpiece.

Elora's own gown was simple. A-line, made from an emerald green chiffon, sleeveless with a deep V in the beaded bodice. Her favorite feature though was a removable flowing cloak that attached at the straps and fell elegantly to the floor around her.

"Are you nearly ready?" Yrsa said as she walked to the door where there had just been a knock.

Elora, placing the last of the silver clasps onto her braids, stood. "Yes, I just need to grab my cloak."

She took two steps toward the bed where she had laid the garment and froze, vision flashing white.

Loki stood beside a pillar speaking to someone hidden from view. "Come now, darling. Don't you want to spend a night with me?"

"El," Yrsa was shaking her as her mind cleared. "Another vision?"

"Yes," Elora looked to Yrsa and saw Fandral and Volstagg at the door. "But it was nothing, muddled. We should go before you're late for the procession."

-

Loki stood at the top of the stairs just inside the doorway with his family, watching the gardens fill with guests. Anger and irritation ran cold through his veins as he listened to his siblings laugh with Sif and Volstagg. Of the three royal children he alone was without an escort and he wished desperately that he could have sent an illusion in his place tonight, or better yet just skipped out on it all together.

"Loki darling, are you alright?" Frigga's voice was concerned as she placed a hand on her son's shoulder.

He took a deep breath. "Yes, mother. Just impatiently waiting for our entrance so that I can have a drink."

"Well it looks as if everyone is almost gathered. We should be going down soon so you can have a drink and..." Her voice trailed off as she watched his gaze wander down to the gardens again. "Maybe a dance with a special someone?"

Loki's head snapped back to Frigga. "Trust me mother, in my current mood it would be better if I danced with no one tonight, unless of course you require a partner."

Frigga looked at her other children over Loki's shoulder, chatting and smiling, joy beaming from their faces, before turning back to her middle child. "Oh, darling, for your own good I wish you weren't so stubborn."

His answering smile was small but genuine. "Me, stubborn? I don't know what you're talking about."

She could see a guard lean in to her husband, most likely letting him know they were ready to enter. She looked at Loki one more time, straightening his jacket. "You know this green looks lovely on you," she smiled up at him as Odin walked toward them. "If I recall correctly I believe Elora's gown is the same shade."

"Wife, children, come. It's time to enter."

-

Some time later Fandral came to fetch Elora and she said her goodbyes to one of Vanaheim's lead healers. Thor had introduced her to the man and they'd spent nearly an hour chatting about knowledge and techniques before he'd told Elora she would be welcome to learn under his ranks should she ever make her way to the realm of the Vanir.

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