xxxWhat horrible thing had she done, which god had she offended, what horrible crime had she committed, to deserve this horrible day? First there was her father, and now there was this, this man, who was infuriating in more ways than she could describe, that had just appeared out of no where and then fell fell from the sky, proclaiming he was a god and asking for someone of who's existence she should not know. What had she ever done to deserve this after a confrontation with her horrid father that still found a way to pierce her heart, even through her rush of anger towards this new man? What had she done? And why could she not just be left to cry alone in the moment she needed to, to feel her hurt and try and begin to heal? Why couldn't she just do that, why couldn't he have fallen right near someone else, somewhere better suited to such things? Heiley knew though, that it was good it had been her he appeared near, and not someone else. Most of her people would have either run and screamed or been far too curious, and if it had been a guard, well, they would not have taken him kindly to her grandfather for saying such things, and no matter how much she loathed him in this moment, she didn't wish that for him. She just wished she knew why this was happening to her, and why it was happening now of all possible moments. She was someone, like most elves were, who believed in everything happening for a reason, and while technically everything did happen for a reason, either by one's choice, or by the laws of nature, of the world, she believed in the deeper meaning as well, of a fate's design, and some unknown hand guiding each creature down it's path, or at least pushing it to a possibility one could then choose and influence, since she was not fond of her own fate not being her own. Nonetheless, it was still something she felt to be true, so what reason did this happen for? What was the reason for this awful day? What was the reason for this handsome, albeit very indignant and irritating man, being dropped from the air so close to her as she was in the middle of so much pain, and seeking solace from it in the gardens? She knew there was a reason- there had to be some explanation, even if it wasn't a more divine spiritual one, things like that didn't just happen-, she just wished she knew what it was. That was something she had always disliked about the older elves, and the ones more connected with their ancestors and gods; they were always so cryptic about things, and she just wished they'd say what they were getting at. She knew that something's were something someone had to figure out on their own, without help from another, or else what was needed would never come to pass, or at least not come to pass as it should, but did it really have to be all the damn time? Could whoever was playing games with her right now, just come out and give her some hint as to why this was happening, as to what she had done to deserve this? She wouldn't have been nearly as bothered by it all, or even minded it, if the man hadn't immediately demanded to know if she was someone he shouldn't know of the moment he opened his mouth, but he had, and now she was standing so very close to him, with her sword pressed to his throat, after he had continued to declare himself a god when he had no such right, at least not here, in the Forest of Los. Whoever had shoved him to her, she really hated them right now, and she wished they would just leave her alone, or give her someone who would care about her and listen rather than him. She knew fate could be mysterious, and that it could be even more tricky, but did this really have to happen? Did this really have to be? She wished she could believe this was just some awful nightmare, but she knew it wasn't, the ache in her heart was far too real, and if this was a dream, she doubted that he would be the one she had her sword pressed to. No, this was real, very, incredibly, utterly real, and there was to get out of it now that it had happened. Why did things like this never go her way? Why couldn't he have been as charming and sweet as he was dashing, rather than an arrogant donkey? She understood not being the kindest after a fall, but being moody because of a nasty fall was much different than demanding things he by no means should have ever known, and proclaiming oneself to be a god in a rather sacred place. The gardens themselves weren't sacred, nor were the statues, but they were close, and they were important in preserving the memories of those that had earned that honor until time finally ran out. They meant more to her than they did to most as well, as one was her ancestor, and even though she was long dead, part of her still remained in the entirety of the forest, stronger than anyone could ever begin to imagine, and she had always, in a way, been connected to the woman who sacrificed herself to save her husband and son, and her people as well. After her grandfather passed on, Los' family would finally be on the throne again, with her as queen, and if was through that connection, that she would be able to protect her people, and their forest from harm. Some stranger from another world she had never heard of, claiming he was a god like her, was an insult to more than just her name, and her sacrifice. It was in insult to all the other gods, to Ni'vaa, their creator, the deity that guarded them all throughout time, and would continue to until the world' send, to Nello and Gannon, who lead them here, to the great bird of thunder that flew their skies during storms, and drew the lighting to it's form so the bolts would not crack the many trees, and cause the forest, their only home, to burn, and to all the rest. He had just committed a grave offense in the gardens, amidst the place of their memory, and she wasn't going to ignore it, or let it go, even if it was silly to most. Why couldn't a spider have fallen instead of him? They couldn't insult her people, at least not in a language she understood, and even then, she at least knew how to handle them, and could shove her sword through their miserable hearts without feeling horribly, whereas she could never do that with him, even if she wanted to. The sword against his throat was nothing more than an empty threat, she couldn't harm him, no matter how much he angered her, she just hoped he wouldn't figure that out if he hadn't already. Something told her he was quite clever though, and she had a feeling he'd figure that out rather quick. Brilliant, just brilliant. There was really no hope for her day getting any better, was there?
xxxOnly minutes before, she had been stifling her tears and trying to focus on the forest around her, trying to calm and ease her aching heart, and then he had fallen from out if absolutely no where as she looked up from her attempts to calm, and managed to survive a fall most probably wouldn't. Then, mere moments ago, he spotted her after she had been watching him like a spotted deer standing frozen before they burst into a run, and instantly demanded something from her, and even more recently still, he had shown himself to be incredibly arrogant with a godly title, and caused something within her to snap, and now, after pressing her sword to his throat, he was laughing? Was this man really laughing as with a grin spreading across his features as she had a sword pressed closely to his throat? What sort of insane man had landed before her in the gardens after a blinding light? Was he utterly and completely mad? What kind of madman was he to be laughing in his current situation? She could kill him at any moment, and he was laughing? Laughing of all things? He was amused by this? Had he hit his head while falling? Wouldn't laughing gravely hurt after taking such a terrible fall? Shouldn't he be in pain? Showing signs of hurt from the way his chest shook with a laugh? His armor would bite and dig into his skin when fallen on, she was sure of it, how was he not at the very least wincing? She had heard a pained sound escape him when he first fell, so why was he making none now, surely he had to be feeling something? She really had just been stuck with a deranged madman that fell from the forest air, hadn't she? Or maybe this was actually a dream, or something she was imaging through her pain, and it was she who was going insane? No, for the same reasons as before she knew this to be real, and she hoped this Loki wouldn't notice the bewilderment at his vocalized amusement blossoming on her face. When pressing a sword to someone's neck, giving a threat to maim or kill, the person doing it couldn't look confused and taken aback, it just wouldn't work. You're really laughing right now? When I could kill you if I wanted? She wanted to ask what the hell he found amusing, but she held her tongue. It wasn't the time, and he hadn't even answered her previous question, so why would he answer that? She could guess the reason anyway, either just the absurdity of this all, his own madness, or even her own actions and words. After all, if he thought himself a god, what consequence to him was she if he laughed at her? She would be powerless in comparison to him, right? Heiley knew she should have been offended at that, but presently, she was far too bewildered and angry at him for other things to care about that for the moment. There were more pressing things to uncover right now, and she couldn't let her pride or her confusion rule the moment. The time for that would come later, once they were alone, and after he told her what in the name of everything that had ever existed, was happening, and how he had gotten here, and why he was here to begin with. She could get offended by his rather mad laughter as soon as she knew that, and had a moment alone with him to ask, preferably somewhere most un-amusing so he wouldn't feel the need or desire to laugh at her again.
xxxSteeling her expression again, she narrowed her eyes, and seemingly, just in time, as his amusement didn't seem to end there, even if it had morphed into something parallel, or something new, for after a few more moments as she struggled to rush out more, and a few more outraged words left her lips, it had retuned, and once again she couldn't even begin to believe the absolute gall of this man. Did he not realize she had a sword pressing against his neck? That the only reason it hadn't cut him and caused him to bleed already was a spell from her to dull the edges? And what was he even on about this time? More elves? What by the gods name was he talking about? She wanted to ask him what that was meant to mean, her pride wanted to demand it, even, but she knew that would not help the situation, or get at the answers she wanted far more. More importantly though, she had just told him that he was asking for the grandmother of one of their gods, for her ancestor, and his reaction was a chuckle dripping with three sarcastic words, and, more elves? The first thing he had said since his claim to being a god, and her outraged response, was more elves? What was wrong with this man? Did he really believe he was in the position to be chuckling under his breath while being sarcastic? While admittedly, she couldn't do much damage to him now, mainly because she outright refused to, there were certainly others that could cause him a great deal of issue, and if she let out a scream, or a loud cry or call of any sort, they would be there in mere heartbeats, and he wouldn't be able to be amused by this any longer. Surely, he was intelligent enough to realize that? Or maybe he knew, and was just completely, utterly, hopelessly, insane. That seemed like it could be a possibility, though she didn't want to paint him as that, or even vaguely delusional just yet, no matter how tempting the latter now was. She could tell that he wasn't dumb in the slightest; his aura, while strange, was bright with intelligence, with cleverness, and cunning, and he had an air to him that was quite the opposite of an insane madman laughing in the face of danger. He very well may be exactly that, or at least someone with not much claim to sanity, but there was still something in him very much in control, something someone mad would lack. She couldn't put a word to it yet, but it was there, without a doubt, and it told her that she had to be careful around him, that by no means, should he ever be underestimated. Heiley had seen it in the single moment she had looked to his aura for truth before snuffing the sight of it out, and she knew to listen. Even as he scoffed- but not entirely- at her next set of words, and she watched as his eyes hardened to how they had been before, a grin still graced his lips. He was crazy, that was clear now, but he was also dangerous, and not in the way an unhinged madman with no control, no sense of anything, was. He was exceedingly intelligent, and that could not be ignored.
xxxWhen she introduced herself to him, full title and all, she wasn't sure what exactly from him she was expecting, but she certainly wasn't expecting nothing from him. Granted, given that he had given absolutely no reaction when she told him the woman he was looking for was her ancestor, and the grandmother of one of their gods, their second most central one to be more exact, she shouldn't have been surprised. Despite that though, in a way, it was almost refreshing to have someone not react to her title like she was the most precious thing in the world and should be treated like the most fragile piece of glass to worship, and normally it would have been vastly refreshing, but here, right now, it was no more than a mere almost because she actually wished he would react, instead of seeming to ignore it and her damned altogether. She knew he thought himself a god, and very well may be one in this Asgard he spoke of, so she could see if he was simply unimpressed by it, but she still expected something. Something more than his emerald eyes remaining locked with hers, and the corners of his lips being tugged up ever so slightly harder in his grin, at least. Could he give no reaction at all? If only one to sarcastically humor her? He seemed like someone who would do that, give someone a rather grand and fake reaction to their words. Clearly though, that wasn't what was on his mind, as when he did speak, it wasn't at all about her own boasted titles, and instead, tauntingly asking the obvious. She wanted to roll her eyes and show her frustration at his question, but she didn't, she kept silent, and continued to fix him with a glare of nothing but the purest animosity. She didn't have time or the desire to play into his games and answer questions she was sure he already knew the answer to. She was also tempted to press the blade closer, in hopes it would get him to behave and actually answer something, but she didn't, it wasn't needed, not yet. He continued after a moment, clearly annoyed and ever sarcastic, and this time she didn't hold her tongue. "You're rather brave for a man with a sword against his throat, aren't you?" Heiley questioned with a growl, faintly taunting, her words carrying the edge of a snarl. She watched as his eyes left hers to peer momentarily at their surroundings, before unfortunately promptly returning to her own eyes of hazel. The amusement she saw in them before seemed to be fading though, and she wasn't sure if that meant he was finally coming to his senses, or if it meant something darker from him was coming. If the fun and games for him had left, likely with the realization that Gaethel was not someone he could find, she wasn't quite sure what he would do, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to find out the extent of what it could be. After an irritated sigh from her a few heartbeats after she spoke, she decided that she might as well respond to his previous ridiculous words. She shifted, and tilted the blade against this throat ever so slightly, so part of it now neared his chin, and would have forced it to raise if she angled it any higher. "But no, I'm not Gaethel, clearly, she died an age ago, before this forest even existed, before we even spoke this tongue. Hardly anyone even knows her name now, and you certainly shouldn't." Heiley told him pointedly, hoping to remind him again that he shouldn't know that name, since obviously, that had not sunk in well enough before. It was no laughing matter, or anything less than severely serious that he knew that name, a name that had been all but lost to all but the last of her family so many centuries ago. She wanted to know how an outsider, someone that had to be from another planet because there was no such thing as an Asgard on her own, knew a name, that her own people, did not. Something was horribly wrong there, terribly un-right, and she wished he would just tell her how he knew that name already rather than completely ignore her and mention her again. She didn't want to play any of his stupid games, or whatever this was, she just wanted to know why he was here and how he knew her name and then she could be rid of him and he could bugger off to who cares where. She had a feeling things wouldn't be that gloriously simple though, and she had no hopes that he would make it easy; he had given her no reasons to assume this would be anything but difficult. At least she could tell his amusement was quickly depleting as it waned, and with it, his patience, which she was able to watch fade from his form. Maybe now, with his patience gone, she would finally get some sort of answer.
xxxOf course, naturally, with her luck, she quickly learned that no answer would at all be given, and really, she should have known that wasn't going to happen before the thought even crossed the forefront of her mind. It was being too generous with this confusing, enraging situation, and with this irritating man who called himself a god.
xxxAs soon as he next opened his mouth, with a shift, she felt her eyes widen and her mouth open in an expression of serious offense at the words of irritation and disdain that left him. Had he really? Did he just- "Heathen? How dare you!" The offense her within her voice was incredibly obvious and strong, and for the briefest of moments, her sword was pressed a fraction closer to his throat. How dare he insult her in such a way? Heathen? Really? She couldn't- he just- urgh! That-that man! First claiming to be a god and now calling her, of all things, a heathen? The nerve of this insufferable man! She was insulted by being called dull too of course, but in comparison to being called a heathen, dull was almost a wonderful compliment, and sometimes, she even wished she was sort of dull, so perhaps, people would leave her be when she needed a moment and didn't ask things of her she couldn't give, or hold ridiculously high expectations over her head that she could never reach, not in a thousand years. Quig was the only one who didn't do that, he knew her limits and her strengths better than she did herself sometimes, and he never asked for more than she could give. This man was not Quig though, clearly, he was Loki, and she could not let herself go soft on him due to thoughts of the only real father figure she had ever really had. She couldn't let him see any softness from her, not yet. At least she didn't have any more moments to possibly slip up on that, because just as her own offended reply had left her lips, he wasted no second in continuing, and her eyes were quickly narrowed in a glare to him again. "If you wish to be called a god in these lands, Loki of Asgard, you must earn it." Heiley reminded coldly, the wild fury returned to her eyes at the repeated claim. He was no god here, especially not in the gardens where her people honored those her were, and she wasn't going to stay silent as he committed such an offense again. What would it take to get her words through his skull, or more rightly put in this situation, his ego? Ignoring the thought for the moment, she continued to listen as he spoke again, and with each one of his words, she felt more and more rage building up inside of her. It was good to know though, that at the very least he didn't wish to be here, so if she was lucky, she wouldn't have to deal with him for much longer. Although, the fact he was sent here to find Gaethel, was more than a little confusing. Who could have known of her, and yet not know that she had died, and where was the person who had known? Were her people in danger? Had he been sent to deliver some sort of threat? Predictably, before she could even ponder that fully, he went on, and out came a demand, a demand to remove her blade so he could get off this "glorious" planet and she could go back to- What? Go back to praying to her beloved statues in peace? Did this man, did he really think that they-that she- Gods give me strength. The fingers on her free hand gave a flick to ward off Shrelen, to tell him that it was not his help she wanted. "We do not pray to our gods, let alone their statues." Heiley snapped as soon as he finished, outrage and offense contorting her features. The elves did not treat their gods like some religion, they didn't pray to them like that, or even worship them in such a way. They honored them, celebrated them, thanked them, and promised to remember them until the end of all their days. It wasn't at all like the praying of a deity in a religion, something her people did not have. It was a rather childish, petty thing to respond to and get upset over, but she didn't care, and besides, she was already well past the point of being proper and reasonable with him. Heiley knew she couldn't just say that though, and ignore the rest of what he said, she had to actually try and sort this out and help this infuriating man, so after a moment of continuing to glare harshly at him and hold onto her resentment a smidge longer, she took a breath to calm, and waited for some of her anger to deflate, and then spoke up. Taking him to her grandfather wouldn't hurt, and right now, was probably the best option they have. "However, if you wish to leave, the most I can do for you is take you to see my grandfather, The King. He'll decide what to do with you, and I don't doubt that throwing you in the dungeons is going to be a very tempting option." Heiley searched his features, waiting for a response, or any sign of one, to show on his handsome face, before the pressure of the blade against his neck lessened, and she glanced downward, toward the ground. She didn't want to, or at all find any liking in the idea, but after a moment of holding his gaze, and fixing him with a firm glare, against her better judgement, she lowered the blade of her sword, and carefully placed it back within it's sheath. Her hand did not leave it's hilt, though; she saw no weapons on his person, but something told her that he was not at all defenseless, or incapable of harming her in some manner while her back was turned, and she knew better than to take that risk. Heiley took a few steps away from him, and then turned half way back to him, a noticeable shift in her demeanor. She kept her gaze forward, or on the ground, and her posture was stiff, nearing vulnerable. Her knuckles grew white with how tightly she gripped the end of her sword. She was calmer now, more cautious. It should have scared her how quickly she seemed to deflate, how quickly her hostility turned into her becoming close to docile, subdued. "You certainly won't find any Gaethel here either, all you'll find of her is dusty books and a grave, which I'm not taking you too. It's a sacred place for us, one you are certainly not welcome in. The best you can do is hope you're not sent to the cells so you can visit the royal library, and find the few ancient books where she's mentioned, or find one of the three people left alive that are descended from her. Out of those three, I am your best option. My mother is not one to take kindly to people like you, and well, my grandmother is not kind in any sense of the word, and she is going to despise you." Heiley let out a soft exhale, and took one final glance at him before speaking again, her brief returning softness quickly fading to irritation. "Now please, just follow me and don't try anything. You're not going to get off this planet if you kill me or anyone else here for that matter. I would love to be rid of you and merely point you in the direction of where to go, but unfortunately, I cannot. Forgive me for not having an ounce of trust in you, and for our rules that forbid outsiders from walking the forest alone." Heiley sounded almost tired amidst her obvious irritation with him now, any hints of the vulnerability she had displayed moments before gone, without a trace. She turned and waved for him to follow, not bothering to look back at him from over her shoulder as she began to walk back along the path that would lead them to the throne room, where her grandfather would be sitting on his throne, presiding over his kingdom.
xxxHeiley quickly quickened her pace to a brisk walk before she had even taken ten steps from the man, and she hoped he could keep up; she wasn't going to slow down or stop and wait for him. Her patience had drained rather suddenly not long ago and she wasn't going to put in the effort to force some patience back into her form because he wanted to be slow and take his sweet time. It wasn't that far, he could manage, and if he was hurting from the fall, well, he had been laughing without any issues, and it's not like walking a little slower would make it hurt any less either. She didn't want him to be in pain, or hurting, but if he wanted to get out of her home, then he would have to endure it at least a little before he got to someone who could look into healing him. If anyone would be allowed to heal him, that is, since she was not sure what order her grandfather would give on that. If he didn't give the man the kindness to allow it, then she would do it herself. That fall had looked sickening, and after surviving it, she knew there had to at the very least be a painful bruise on his person somewhere, and after pretty much instantly pressing a sword to his throat, likely prematurely, it was the least she could do for him, and she just really didn't like the idea if him possibly being in pain. He may annoy her incredibly, and act much like an entitled ruder name for a donkey, but that didn't mean she wanted him to suffer, even if it was only a small pain. It wouldn't be right of her to deny him that if her grandfather denied it first.
xxxWhile she walked, her free hand stretched out to brush along the flora that adorned the sides of the path, the fingertips of her outstretched hand delicately flitting over leaves of ferns and grand flowers, and tall, speedily growing bushes in need of the gardener's expert trim. The leaves were soft beneath the touch of her skin, and the flower petals they caressed were even softer still. Flowers had a very specific to them, one that could be copied or mimicked by nothing else, and she liked the feel of them; they helped her to forget her situation, and the man who was hopefully still following her. She wasn't going to look back and see if Loki still was, though she knew she should, so she didn't unleash his un-contained chaos onto the rest of her people. She still wasn't going to look back however, right now, she really didn't want to see his face, or his green eyes, the color of glistening emeralds, or his mid length dark hair, still somewhat wild and unkempt from his fall, that made him look far more dashing than a man who had fallen from the damned sky out of nowhere should. He was irritating, but she could not at all deny that he looked far beyond just good, and she hated that that was what her mind jumped to the moment she had turned away from him and was trying to ignore his existence as she lead him to her grandfather, King Vanduurin. No, Heiley. Do not think of him like that, he's insufferable, it doesn't matter that he's handso- Stop it, no! Do not think of him like that! Silently, she shook her head to rid herself of such-such- well, such thoughts, and focused her attention again on the path she was traveling. She- or well, hopefully they- had already made it to the garden's end, the soft, nearly silent sound of her boots against moss covered stone no longer present, and now it was time to step onto the stairwell that led to the throne room where her grandfather would be seated. The shape of the stairwell formed an x of sorts, with the upper half above the flat space that allowed on to enter the throne room, wrapping around the great Tree of Los in an elegant spiral going upwards, and the lower half simply providing two options to enter, a left side, and a right side. There were many paths leading to both sets of stairs; paths from the other trees that held the platforms of their raised home, paths from other places of importance like the gardens, and the trails they needed to use, and a larger central path they all parted from that lead out of the forest, that also branched off to wrap around the tree and head towards the other way out of the forest, the great river that lead to the Grotto. Those paths didn't matter now though, she wouldn't be taking Loki there, so with a shaking deep breath, she took the first step onto the stairwell on the right, and felt as her still outstretched hand touched the silver of the railing, the metal smooth to the touch, but possessing a biting cold. She let her thumb trail along the patterned side as she climbed the few steps, feeling the convoluted swirls that ran all along it, and finally the thicker, even more intricate patterns of the taller post's cap that signaled the stairs were done, and the railing had changed to wrap around the flat area, and then around to the other mirrored side of stairs. Her hand fell back to her side then, the coldness of the metal lingering on her skin, and after stepping toward the doors, she finally turned back to look at the man she had lead here. She was realized to see that he hadn't run off and disappeared while she was determined not to check. Now that she thought about it, it had been really stupid of her not to look back at least once to see. It was too late to get upset with herself about that though, they were here, and it was time to go in. Her free hand was pressed flatly to the large wooden doors, the patterns adoring it pressing into her skin, but before she pushed it open. She turned to him again, a slight frown upon her features. She didn't like it, but her nerves were beginning to make themselves known. She was likely about to see her father again, even if it was only through the resembling features of his father, and Heiley wasn't sure if she was ready for that. "Word of advice, do not act like you are a god entitled to everything here if you wish to leave so badly. My grandfather is not one who responds well to people who proclaim themselves to be gods. Treat him with respect, I'd really not like to see you killed, or thrown in our prisons. It's a horrible place, filled with only the worst beings to exist, and you haven't shown yourself to be worthy of that, yet." Heiley warned, watching him carefully. She didn't know whether it was her distaste for anyone being killed, or harmed, or if it was that there was something special about him, about this confusing arrogant man, but she didn't want to see him hurt, let alone put to death or sent to their dungeons with monsters who deserved no kindnesses anymore. He wasn't a monster, he wasn't without humanity, and he didn't deserve to join them. A tiny, growing part of her wanted to know more about him too, to learn of this Asgard, of him, and of what happened, though, she would never admit it, and if he caught on that she did, she would deny it in a heartbeat. With the end of her words though, she turned back to the door, and carefully pushed it forward, opening it, and slipping inside, her hand moving in another motion for him to follow.
xxx"Grandfather, I-" A hand flew to her mouth as soon as she caught sight of the scene unfolding before her, only just barely managing to stifle a sudden laugh that wished to escape her throat. What was happening? What had they just walked into? There were guards scurrying all throughout the throne room in some sort of panic like mice, and she could see her family, and the esteemed royal advisor- that was really no more than a man who gave advice when he was not acting as her babysitter and tutor-, Wagstaff, all hurriedly speaking, and looking rather frantic and more than a little worried, their composure gone. Her parents stood by each other, Madrion's hands behind his back, and Caewin's at her front, and her uncle stood on the opposite side of her Grandfather, one hand on the sword at his waist, calling out orders to his guards as they ran around them, looking tired, and worried as well. Her grandmother was standing at a seemingly very specific part of the room, yelling something to her grandfather, while gesturing wildly to where she stood. What had happened? And what was going on? It had to be serious if her grandmother was here, she was never in the same room as Cadhrion, let alone in a meeting with her family. She had never once imagined that she would see this. She never once thought she would see them all frantic and the opposite of composed. The moment her voice reached their ears though, everyone in the room froze, and turned toward her, eyes wide, immediately falling silent. She felt a laugh rising in her throat again, at the sight of them all looking so startled and as if they had been caught doing something they shouldn't, but then she met her father's cold eyes from across the room, and any amusement donning her features promptly faded. He was the last person she wanted to see, and with the sight of him, all of the pain he had brought her so recently began to resurface, and caused her face to fall. Heiley just hoped that Loki wouldn't notice, he didn't seem to be the type to let such a thing go. Her grandfather stood, and fixed her with narrowed eyes. She watched her grandmother gracefully move to stand beside her daughter, Heiley's mother, but not before letting something elegantly roll from her hand to mark the spot. What was so special about that place? What had happened?
xxx"Heiley, what is the meaning of this? Where have you been? We are in a state of emergency! If you do not drain to grace us with your presence during a meeting, then you should know better than to interrupt after running off somewhere. Unless you have any information for us of a woman from a place called Asgard speaking of a debt to Gaethel, and a blinding light in the sky, I am going to have to ask you to leave." Vanduurin wasted no time in chastising her with his words, and immediately, she wished she had never come, never taken him here. She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at his words, and bite down the temptation to tell her grandfather to ask his son about that, after all it was his fault she had fled to the gardens and was in them to begin with, and she knew that he knew exactly what he had done. That was one of the main problems, that knowing; he always knew, yet he never did anything to fix how despicable a father he was, despite knowing full well he was terrible. He knew, and he did nothing. There were few things more painful than that, knowing that her own father really didn't care about her at all unless she was of some use to him, and she hated that this infuriating newcomer, this stranger to the forest, could see that clear as day, if he only looked at the glare passed between father and child. Even her mother, Caewin, looked displeased with her, but thankfully, her attention was more so on the strange man standing with their princess, like the eyes of most everyone else in the room, who were still, for the most part, frozen, although slowly clearing out from the center, to allow the king, and his granddaughter, and the strange man with her speak without them in the way.
xxxShe kept her lips pressed together in a line, trying not to show how angry she was with his words in front of her father, and the man who had fallen from a light in the sky. "The source of that light is beside me, Grandfather, he fell from it, asking for Gaethel, and saying he was sent to find her." Heiley informed him, her expression cold and hardened, her form unmoving as she watched him with narrowed eyes. She tried to keep her voice as emotionless as possible, but she knew that some of her hurt bitterness managed to slip through, and she could tell that her father had noticed. Vanduurin's eyes appeared confused for a split second, before he finally noticed the irritating man she had brought with her for the first time, and quickly rounded on him instead. Before completely rounding on Loki though, he fixed her with a hard look that said "i'll deal with you later,", and then turned his attention fully back to the man he now harshly glared at in ways only a king really could. She felt herself swallow, and her heart fell.
xxx"Who are you, and how do you know of that name? Are you this Prince Loki, of Asgard? Why have you come to our forest? Do you know of the message we were sent?" Vanduurin asked, his voice booming, and commanding, like that of a king's should be. If she hadn't just seen them all running around and speaking like panicked creatures, she wouldn't have believed for a second that it had ever happened with the way his voice sounded, and how quickly his composure, minus his present anger, returned. Heiley frowned at his words, and her hazel eyes quickly shot to Loki. Prince? He had said nothing of being a prince to her when he introduced himself. Why had he neglected to tell her of that when he had boasted of being a god? So not only was he a god, he was a prince as well? Wonderful, simply wonderful. She would have to ask him about that later, regardless of his fate, though for now she held her tongue. She had her turn to speak, and now it was his. She stepped to the side, and watched the taller man, her eyes faintly softer than they had been toward him before. It was out of her hands, and she could only hope that he wouldn't anger the elven king too much; she hadn't been lying when she had told him she didn't want to see him killed or imprisoned. She, without wanting to ever admit it, wanted to know him more, and it would be a horrible shame if that chance was snuffed out now.