"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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Loki's cold hands clasped her warm ones, guiding her through the crowd and ignoring the stares from those around them. In the days that followed the attack, Loki had done his best to avoid the young goddess; his mind replaying the execution of her mother. The guilt he was feeling welled up inside his gut, and his own breathing hitched. He had caused such pain in her life without fully intending to. His only intentions were to hurt his father's ego and show him that Thor was not the king he so wished he was. Loki, in his mind, was supposed to save the day and show his imbecile of a father that he was the only one fit to be king.
But his plan backfired. Innocents died.
Loki turned on his heel, his eyes taking in the goddess. Her face was ghostly pale, and beads of perspiration formed on her skin. Her eyes pleaded with his for several moments; then suddenly, a sob wracked her body. He glanced at a tear that was about to fall. His own emotions frightened him. He felt the need to bring her into his chest and hold her, but his pride was too stubborn. His hand slipped from hers.
Astraea's hands ran down her face, and she looked up, catching Loki's eyes. Her heart skipped a beat as she considered which way to take with him. She knew he was a wild card, and from this very moment, it could go one of two ways.
"Loki..." His name was breathless on her lips.
His head tilted slightly. "I only did it to save my brother the utter humiliation you'd have caused him if anyone had seen your pathetic break down."
Astraea could see the soft spot within him, and she realized that his motives weren't for his brother but for her protection. She wanted to dwell on the thought but decided to save it for another time.
"Thank you," she said.
Loki was thrown off. His guard completely tumbled down before him. His emerald eyes widened at her pure and true gratitude. But he couldn't let her know the truth, as she would surely tell his father in her desperate need to see justice served.
"Very well," Loki finally answered, clasping his hands behind his back. "I have much more pressing things to attend to."
Loki took this moment to let his eyes rake over Astraea's form. The silk dress laid upon her shoulders, with golden lining down the seams, flowing down to her ankles and hitting the floor beneath her. It was green, the dress's full color was green with golden seams; truly exquisite on her frame.
Astraea's hands slid down her stomach, "right... Of course." Astraea just nodded her head, excusing herself from his presence. She swore she felt his gaze on her as she stepped into a different part of the hall.
She crossed through the palace as quietly and quickly as she possibly could without being seen. She feared that if people saw her weakness, she'd be a lesser queen. But wouldn't this sadness only benefit her? Her people seeing her grieve for those who were lost in the tragic accident? She didn't know what would benefit her here, nor did she care. She had lost her mother, and the only solid thought she could grasp was that she wanted justice for it.
Astraea hesitated; it almost seemed so wrong, yet so right in a sense. If she wanted to know the truth, if she wanted to find out what truly happened to her mother, there was only one way she could. There was only one person she knew who could do things without regret, sneak past all eyes, and disobey orders directly where she could not. A trickster who could easily toy with reality to benefit his own gain.
