{SET BEFORE THE EVENTS OF 'THOR'}
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"Did you know," she said, sitting on the ground and turning to the prince, "that Midgard has an entire language dedicated to flowers? Each of them mean something else. It's a very sweet way they can express emotio...
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Maeve stared at her brother, confused beyond belief. "Asmund? What about Asmund? Is he okay? Is he hurt? Is he-"
"Slow down, Maevey. Just... slow down." Corey ran a hand down his face and sighed. "Come on. We're not having a conversation like this out here."
He took off down the hall, Maeve practically sprinting to keep up with him. By the time they arrived outside of his chambers, she was out of breath and light-headed, leaning on the wall for support. Maybe I'm not as healed as I thought. Corey turned around, frowning. He opened the door and wrapped an arm around her waist, ensuring that she wouldn't fall.
After discarding her cloak and shoes, the princess snuggled into the corner of the loveseat. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, shortening her shallow breath. Corey's silence scared her more than anything. He gave her a brotherly kiss on the head and left for a few minutes, returning with a cup of tea and an ice pack.
"I'm no healer, but these should help, at least for now. We'll get you fixed up later, I promise." He tossed her the ice and set the cup on the side table. "Okay, I'm going to tell you what happened, but you can't freak out."
"All right," she stammered. Her shaking hands gripped the cup as she raised it to her lips and took a sip. The familiar taste calmed her nerves ever so slightly. The tea in Asgard was different than the tea in Vanaheim. This beverage, with its strong earthy undertones, tasted like home. "What's wrong with Asmund?"
Corey let out a long breath, staring down at his callused hands. "He's married, Maeve."
For a solid minute, Maeve forgot how to speak.
Asmund.
Married.
Asmund.
Married.
Asmund.
Married.
"What do you mean?" She finally asked in a breathless voice. "He's Asmund. He can't, I mean, he can't be-"
"Yeah. Yeah, he most definitely can be."
"But... to who?"
He shrugged. "No one knows. That's why it's so bad right now. Papa has him down in the prisons. He says he'll release him if he tells who he married, but he won't sell her out for anything."
"Because it's treason," Maeve whispered. She traced the pattern of the upholstered couch, her fingers trembling. "Right?"
"I'll tell you what happened, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't interrupt, okay?" He asked somberly. "Just let me talk. What I know is a mix of what I saw and what others saw. This all went down a few hours ago. I've been asking around to get a better picture."
