S.H.I.E.L.D Academy

Andalis Heimdallson's POV • High School

"Must you go so soon?" I ask, my heart sinking. My cousins gently take my hands, giving them a sympathetic squeeze.

"My parents like to give me a week or so back home before the end of vacation, and before the beginning of the semester," Terif says regretfully.

"Mine too," Laerika adds, a hint of rue to her voice. "Just to get back into the swing of things. Besides, if the rumours I'm hearing are true, you might be joining us at school soon."

I nod knowingly. "Perhaps. My father says I've got something, a talent or power or something of the like, that can only be developed there. Well," I sigh. "We'll just have to wait and see what comes to pass. I'm just growing tired of being the only person my age anywhere near the palace, except for when you stay here every other summer."

Laerika turns, looking to the shining columns and parapets of the palace from where we stand at the gate to the Bifrost. "Yes, that must be trying." She turns back to me after a moment. "Promise to write, Andalis. We'll see each other again soon."

"Yes, write to us as often as you can," Terif smiles, adjusting her gown's golden gossamer overlay. The gold material makes the burgundy silk beneath shimmer handsomely. She sighs and glances behind her to the inner gate, where her parents talk with my father. "I have to admit, whenever we leave, I tend to miss the elegant Asgardian fashions. Don't you, Lae?"

Laerika shrugs, brushing wavy locks of dark hair behind her shoulders. Her fashionable dress of royal blue and slivery-green lawn makes her exquisite eyes brighter. "I suppose," she says nonchalantly, fingering the silver lace frothing out of her neckline. "But I'm looking forward to getting back into skinny jeans and knee-high boots."

I laugh, promising to write and shaking my head at their strange words. I brush a spot of dust off my own gown, a peach and mauve brocade my mother used to wear when she was my age. She said it complimented my coffee skin and bright golden eyes beautifully. The rich fabric swishes around me as my cousins and I walk over to the adults.

I look at Lady Sigyn--I mean, Grace--and admire her forest green brocade adorned with silver braid and lace, the delicate gold bangles tinkling on her wrists, and wavy auburn hair freely reaching beyond her lower back with little gems sprinkled here and there, among intricate braids and twists running along it. She and Jane turn to us as we approach.

"There they are," Jane smiles broadly. I always loved Thor's wife's smile. It made her eyes shimmer with their warm glow that always reminded me of chocolate blossoms. I smile back, curtsying slightly. I notice how Jane's gown of cream and harvest gold compliments her eyes and light brown hair wonderfully, and I think wistfully of how much I want to be like these women--and my beautiful mother, may she rest in peace--with all their grace and beauty.

"Where is your brother?" Grace turns to Laerika.

She sighs. "He said he had some things to do before we leave," she says. "He said he'd be back by now."

Loki shakes his head. "He would, wouldn't he? Just when we're about to depart." He glances at his wife, who grins helplessly.

"He's your son," she winks.