"She was the Virgin Goddess of Innocence and purity.
He was the God of Mischief.
Though the two were very different in every single way that didn't stop them from falling in love.
She hated most when she loved him the most and she loved him the mos...
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Astraea took a few deep breaths trying to calm herself down. It had been three days since the attack on Asgard — since her mother's death. Odin had spoken out to the citizens of Asgard the day after to ease their minds and explain that this was in fact a inside job. Someone from within Asgard had allowed Those monsters inside these palace walls.
"More wine, your grace?" Astraea looked at the steward who offered her a cask of red wine. She scrutinized his dark eyes and observed his every move, wary of whom to trust. Fear for her safety lingered, as it was impossible to know whom to rely on now.
"No, thank you," she replied. She believed the steward's name was August, but she wasn't certain enough to call him that. He had served her several times before, and she had grown fond of his presence. Possibly-August nodded and took a step back, but remained close by. A faint smile graced Astraea's lips.
Astraea longed to disappear into the night, to fade away like a dying star losing its light. Her emotions were transforming from vibrant colors to dull, empty ones. This party only worsened her feelings.
Then she saw him.
Loki.
Across the way, under a canopy of bright green leaves and shimmering golden ribbons, he stood sipping a flute of golden honey wine.
Her heart leaped into her throat at the sight of him. She hadn't seen him since that night. She wondered where he had gone and what he must think of her, seeing her so vulnerable. For a brief moment, she feared he might use this as a way to influence his father, convincing him that her marriage to Thor should end. But it was only a fleeting thought. The idea of marrying Thor now seemed distant and cold.
How could she possibly think of her own happiness at a time like this? She knew that's what her mother would want, but the feelings of happiness and joy seemed out of reach. All she could see was pain and suffering, and she felt guilty that her mother had paid the price. In the back of her mind, she knew that if the tables were turned, she would have taken the sword's blow to protect her own daughter.
Astraea closed her eyes, suddenly aware that she was breathing heavily. She placed her hand over her trembling heart, searching for an exit. The surrounding Asgardians were becoming overwhelming, and the space in front of her seemed to grow smaller and smaller.
It was quick, like a cold breeze brushing her fingertips and sending small shivers up her spine. Her back pressed against the golden column, and her breath caught in her throat as she finally reopened her eyes. "Loki..."
"You're shaking," he said, his brows furrowed as he studied her face closely.
Astraea felt the heat even through his icy touch. It was burning her skin like a wildfire spreading deep within her stomach, causing it to roar. She couldn't speak, only stare into his emerald eyes.
"Astraea," Loki said after a moment, clearly annoyed by her silence.
"Please. Get me out of here," she whispered.
As Loki led her away from the party, he couldn't help but notice the way her hand trembled in his. He tightened his grip, silently reassuring her that he would keep her safe. They slipped out of the crowded hall and into the cool night air. The moon cast a silver light over the gardens, and the gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of blooming flowers.
Astraea took a deep breath, feeling the tension in her body slowly begin to ease. She looked up at Loki, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. He gazed back at her, his expression softening as he recognized the turmoil she was going through.
