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The moment she left his vicinity, she could feel him become aware. December could feel him remember; she could feel his irritation as he quickly comprehended what his mother's magic had done to him. No one spoke to her, instead watching her curiously.

Logic was a funny thing sometimes. She knew those who had been around when she was younger marvelled on her resemblance to December, or herself. But logic told them that it was impossible. She was either dead, captured or on earth. Even December had heard the rumours at this point. Each speculating whether she was truly on earth or if she had survived the darkness under Asgard.

It didn't matter much to her, as they slipped up into the servant's quarters once more. December's back hurt, already, but she still had most of the day to do work. Luckily, with the large amount of servant's, they had been able to finish and get out of the dungeon's swiftly.

December passed by a mirror and took a glance at herself. The mirror seemed to distort the false scar she had going down her face, making it look darker and eviler.

One of the twins, Thereo bounced up to her, his other half not far behind. He nudged her excitedly, "wow! Prince Loki didn't even say anything to you!"

His twin, Theddo, rolled his eyes, smacking Thereo over the head. "Why do you think the head servant even put her in charge in the first place, you imbecile! She looks just like the warrior!"

They argued, completely forgetting about December as she slipped away from them.

It made her chuckle; she knew everyone was watching her closely after Loki's suffocating silence. Even the Head Servants were observing her closely just in case she was December, back from the dead to get revenge against them all. It was tempting but truly not her thing.

And that's how it went for the next couple of weeks.

December would wake up in early morning, enjoying the cold feeling of the servant's quarters. She'd use magic and make small snowflakes or use it to help clean the dishes quicker. Of course, it was always discreet, but what was the point of the power if you're not going to use it.

After another repetitive day, Ember sighed in appreciation as she realised that work was over. They were returning to the servant's quarters, slipping through hallways and being careful to remain unseen by any nobles or upper guard.

A loud crash resounded through their hallways, a scream of fear, echoed soon after.

The small group of servants froze. Ember saw Lorefis trembling from the corner of her eye. The white-blonde haired girl shifted into a defensive position, slipping further into the shadows as if they could protect her from whatever was up ahead.

She was tempted to use her abilities but decided she might as well practice her hand-to-hand combat if anything threatening came their way.

A hand grabbed Lorefis's throat as the servants cautiously slipped through the hallways after hearing the noise. A few yelped in fear as they watched the large being, a fire-demon. December instantly recognized him as a soldier of Muspelheim.

She had fought them before; it was a long battle.

A young Loki grinned up at her, a clone of his pushing another ugly fire giant to the side. She rolled her eyes at him, favouring her wounded left leg. He called out to her, ducking and slashing another giant, "you've gotten burned!"

She growled at him, whipping around and watching in satisfaction as ice spikes speared the giants that had tried to sneak up at her. "Oh shut up, Loki! You are not helping!"

"Oooo, Midgard language?" He teased her, youthful joy displayed on his face even as he fought in the gory battle. "You must be irritated!" December rolled her eyes at him once more, launching over him and stopping a giant before it could put a dagger of flames through Loki's throat. He gave her a grin in thanks.

Platinum Blonde // L. LaufeysonWhere stories live. Discover now