A/N: Don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'If I Knew by Bruno Mars

If I Knew

Chapter One

I was a city boy

Right into danger's where I'd always run a boy who had his fun

But I wouldn't've done

All the things that I have done

If I knew one day you'd come

I know it breaks your heart

To picture the only one you wanna love

In someone else's arms

But I wouldn't have done

All the things that I have done

If I knew one day you'd come

Oh, baby, please

Let's leave the past behind us, behind us

So that we can go where love will find us

Yeah, will find us

I know most girls would leave me

But I know that you believe me

Baby, I, I wish we were seventeen

So I could give you all the innocence

That you give to me

No, I wouldn't have done

All the things that I've done

If I knew one day you'd come

"Eira! Eira! Now where is that girl?"

Eira sighed and closed her eyes, praying for patience. She loved her Queen greatly, yet she found her whims unutterably irritating. She hurriedly rose from her bathtub and dragged her discarded gown onto her wet skin. Giving her pleasantly steaming bathtub a quick longing glance, she slipped out of her chambers. She dashed down the sumptuous gilded hallway, rapidly braiding her wet hair as she went. She slid, slightly ungracefully with her wet bare feet, into the Queen's chambers just as her name was called again impatiently. Frigga was a swirl of lace as she paced her receiving chamber fretfully. Her golden-sandaled feet slapped anxiously against the marble floor as she reached one end of the room, whirled, and paced back the way she'd come. Her face was tight with worry and her eyes were darting wildly as her thoughts spun around her head. Eira sighed again.

"My Queen." She dipped into a dutiful curtsey and wondered what the Prince had done now. She didn't need to ask or guess; only her youngest child caused the Queen such blatant anxiety.

"Eira." Frigga spun on the spot, frowning down at her maid's bent head. "You're dripping wet." She pointed out curiously, her worry momentarily forgotten.

Eira rose from her curtsey, watching as a trickle of water ran from the end of her braid and stained her silk dress. She'd already left a small puddle around her feet.

"I was bathing, Your Grace. You released me from my duties for the night." She reminded her politely.

Frigga started, blinking at her with big eyes full of apology. Eira felt her irritation melt away. She had been a Lady in waiting to the Queen for a little under a year, the mere blink of an eye to Asgardians, and yet she was surprisingly fond of her. Frigga was much smarter than people supposed but she was very prone to distraction when something caught the attention of her curious mind. She had clearly forgotten entirely that she had told Eira to retire as she would have no more need of her but in her distress had automatically called for her closest companion.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Your Grace?"

Frigga's face crumpled and she groaned, resuming her frantic pacing.

"My boy. My poor sweet Loki."

Eira raised her eyebrows but wisely kept her mouth closed. She had never met the Prince herself; by the time she had been sent to the court by her father, he was gone, but she had heard much and more of him and his antics. Sweet was not the prevalent term used to describe him.

"Is the Prince to return to court?" She prompted as Frigga continued to pace and whisper to herself.

"He is." Frigga's smile was taut and her eyes shone with emotion as she turned towards her. "A captive." Her lips twisted into a grim smile. "My child."

Eira smiled blandly back at her. Frigga loved her son as a mother should but Loki was a traitor and would be treated as such. How awkward. Frigga's pacing was increasing in speed, her robe whipped around so sharply that a tall delicate spindly table wobbled precariously in its wake.

"Would you like some tea, Your Grace. To calm you?"

Frigga stared at her as if she'd lost her mind but Eira didn't take it to heart. What exactly was the protocol for comforting a mother about to find her favourite son dumped on her doorstep on a leash like a dog?

"No. No tea. Thank you dear. No I must think. I need to speak to the King." Frigga dropped the letter she'd screwed up in her hand and barrelled past Eira. "I must speak to my husband. For Loki. I need to--"

"Your Grace." Eira called after her and Frigga skidded to a halt with her hand on the doorknob. "Perhaps a robe?"

Frigga goggled at her again and then she let out a little nervous laugh.

"Of course, of course. What would I do without you, my little songbird?"

Frigga held still as Eira retrieved her rich fur robe from where it had been discarded at her dressing table and carried it across the room towards her. She obediently lifted one arm at a time and slipped into the flowing robe that modestly covered her lace nightgown.

"Would you like me to accompany you, Your Grace?"

Frigga shook her head distractedly as Eira followed her into the private hallway that linked the Royal chambers. Eiracurtseyed and watched Frigga's departing back as she hurried towards the King's bedchamber, her sandals slapping wildly and her robes billowing.

LOKIEIRALOKIEIRALOKIEIRA

"He was always a sensitive boy, the King dismissed that as weakness and now look what has happened."

Eira made a noise in her throat to indicate she was listening. She wasn't really but it comforted the Queen to have someone to talk to who couldn't care less about the political intrigues at court. Eira was the daughter of a minor noble who lived far from the palace and the court. She knew very well she had been despatched there to find a husband. Instead she had been enjoying herself for the first time in a long time without her stepmother lurking like the spectre at the feast when the Queen had heard her singing (a rather ribald ditty she would not have been singing if she'd known royalty was within earshot) and had immediately offered her a position as her lady in waiting. Surprisingly enough they got along remarkably well. The Queen was quirky in her own way and Eira allowed her to be, she didn't judge her or whisper behind her back and in response Frigga warmed to her immediately. Before long she was the Queen's closest companion and confidant despite the age difference.

"I'm so grateful he's home." Frigga sighed. "Under different circumstances would have been preferable, but still…"

Eira nodded, sensing the Queen was watching her in the huge oval looking glass. Glancing up she did indeed find the royal gaze studying her through the glass and she averted her eyes. She calmly continued braiding Frigga's hair, ignoring the stare. Frigga often claimed that she enjoyed watching her pretty Lady in waiting at work. She liked to be reminded of her youth, especially with her sons gone. Frigga watched her hair taking shape absently, her mind still dancing around her youngest son. What would she ever do with him? He was his own worst enemy. Like a wounded animal if his first skittish attempt at forming a bond was rejected, he lashed out. Eirapinned the last braid into place and took a step back to survey her work. She had a knack for this kind of thing luckily enough. She was sincerely hoping Frigga wouldn't insist on her presence at court but no, the Queen rose to her feet and paused at the door, waiting for Eira to fall into step behind her.

Eira bit back a grumble of irritation and obediently followed three paces behind Frigga as the Royal Guard closed around them. The King had insisted on the guard even though Frigga had been furious at the suggestion that Loki would ever harm her. From what the Queen had told Eira about her pleading for Loki's life, the King was more worried about what Loki might say to his mother than anything else. Eira had heard that argument in all its glory as she had laid out the Queen's gown and jewels for the day.

When they arrived, the Audience Chamber was bustling with activity; the courtiers and nobles scurrying like cockroaches as they gossiped and plotted. Eira couldn't care less. She was perfectly happy with her lot in life; she was treated well and with respect as a favourite of the beloved Queen, she had pretty dresses and good food and well equipped quarters. Best of all her stifling stepmother and father were miles away and had no input in her life anymore. Why in the universe would she jeopardise all of that by interfering with the politics ofbored disgruntled nobles. She followed Frigga into their midst, watching as they bowed and curtsied to the Queen as she passed them.

The huge gilded golden doors to the Throne Room were firmly shut and secured beyond the Chamber and she glanced at Frigga. Her face was a mild mask but her lips were tightand thin as she glanced at the doors. She had clearly been told not to enter while Loki was present to be sentenced. Eira felt a tiny flicker of pity in her chest for the mysterious Prince. From what she had heard, he would have had more of a chance at leniency if his mother had been there to speak for him. She also knew that Loki was something of a showmanwho revelled in an audience enjoying his genius. This could be his last moments and he was alone in there with his father's wrath. It was a sad state of affairs.

Frigga passed from group to group, greeting and acknowledging and playing the perfect much loved Queen, all the while deliberately avoiding the huge golden doors keeping her from her son. Eira drifted away from her step by step, not wanting to hear the false sympathies the nobles were uttering. Not having been here when Loki rebelled, Eira had little to no opinion of him but she heard the whispers that whirled at court. Those that thought he had a point and Prince Thor was rather unstable to have an army that easy at hand, and those that thought he was evil incarnate and should be hung, drawn and quartered. She drifted amongst the crowd idly, catching sight of illicit glances, and murmured plotting. From time to time she did take part in the gossip merely for her own amusement. She was just making her way over to a noble's daughter who was a veritable mountain of gossip in the right mood, when a hand touched her elbow.

"Lady Eira."

Lord Thorunn appeared before her and she smiled. Dropping into a curtsy, she peeked at him from under her long lashes. Lord Thorunn was happily married to a very wealthy heiress with two young hale and hearty sons at court. That did not stop him from watching Queen Frigga's pretty young Lady in waiting with hot eyes for the past few weeks. Eira was well aware of his scrutiny and had toyed lightly with him, sliding her eyes towards him across the banquet hall at feasts, swirling her skirts until they brushed his calves when she danced. It was always fun to tease.

"How fare you?" He asked quietly, half turning his shoulder to cut out the crowd behind them. The crowd that included his wife once more big with child.

"Well, My Lord." Eira replied politely, keeping her eyes demurely on the ground. "I thank you for asking."

A guard edged past them and Lord Thorunn frowned, putting a hand on her elbow and drawing her a few steps towards the back corridor the servants used. Eira let him lead her away from the court, more out of curiosity than any actual desire to be alone with him. Once they were alone in the small hallway, Lord Thorunn shifted from one foot to the other as Eirawaited patiently with her hands folded at her waist and her eyes cast demurely down. The Lord was clearly used to maids falling at his noble feet and was quite taken aback at her goading silence.

"You are very distracting." He said suddenly, his face flushing as he studied her lowered head.

"Thank you, My Lord." She murmured innocently.

She could hear his mouth opening and closing as he fumbled for something to say. She cocked her head slightly, knowing her hair was glimmering prettily in the torchlight before him. He was completely thrown by her blank polite response. He had thought she'd flirt with him; that was what happened at court, flirtation and dalliances that meant nothing. She merely waited in silence, her thick red hair strung with golden strands and half-braided over one shoulder dancing in the torchlight. He was scrabbling to gather his thoughts when the door on the other side of the hallway burst open with a loud crash and he stumbled around.

Eira felt a prickle of unease as the door clattered open behind Lord Thorunn. She leaned slightly to the side to see what was going on over his wide shoulder. Guards were marching past them, silent and menacing in their golden armour and hulking helmets. She heard chains clanking over the faint murmur of voices from the Audience Chamber behind them and she tipped up onto her toes to get a better look, her curiosity getting the better of her. Following the guards was a tall figure, a blur of gold and green. She briefly managed to glimpse a pair of midnight blue eyes, glittering with rage and hate as the traitor Prince was marched past them.

"I didn't think they'd bring him this way." She mused aloud, turning to stare after them.

He had a broad back, impressive shoulders and a slendertapering torso topping long elegant legs. As if he could sense her curious gaze, Loki turned his head slightly without missing a step in time with his gaolers. For the merest fraction of a second, their eyes met. Eira stared back at him unabashed and unafraid, coolly appraising. Loki's lip curled minutely and then he was gone, dragged towards the dungeons to meet his fate.

LOKIEIRALOKIEIRALOKIEIRA

"It's cruel."

Eira paused, chewing slowly and thoughtfully. Tears shone in the Queen's eyes as she pushed her food around her plate, staring out at Asgard sprawled out beneath them. She had known the King's plan to imprison Loki but she had never really believed he would do it. Not to her favourite son who mirrored her in so many ways.

"Loki will suffer more, locked away in a box with his beautiful mind restrained… it is unutterably cruel."

A tear slipped down her cheek but she ignored it, staring out at the horizon without seeing any of it. Eira pushed her plate away from her, reaching tentatively across the table to touch the back of the Queen's hand. She gripped her fingers tightly, the jewelled rings on her slim fingers digging into Eira's hand.

After her brief encounter with Loki, Eira had slipped back into the Audience Chamber without a second glance at Lord Torhunn. She had found the Queen rooted to the spot, as still as a statue. A gaggle of silly Ladies were clucking away at her but her head was cocked towards the golden doors leading into the Throne Room. Eira didn't know how but she was certain the Queen knew her son was being led towards the dungeons, dragged down the servant hallway like a common criminal. The Queen had not wavered again after that tiny flash of emotion. She continued to listen to the idle chatter and pleasantries, to advise ladies seeking favour and smooth any ruffled feathers. As the minutes trickled past, Frigga turned from a mind-numbingly boring conversation about an upcoming wedding and sent Eira a brief pleading glance.

Eira turned at once and signalled a servant standing against the wall. He darted forwards obediently.

"Bring some food to the Queen's chambers, something light."

He bowed slightly and disappeared into the crowd to follow her instructions. Eira cocked her head towards Frigga, the barest hint of a smile flitting across her lips and Frigga nodded. The wait was interminable as the Queen continued in her role, nodding and smiling. Eventually Eira decided enough time had passed and she approached the Queen with a dutiful bow. Frigga gratefully excused herself from the crowd and led Eira back towards the Royal Apartments. The only thing that gave away her emotional state was the increased pace as she stalked the length of the marble hallways, tall and proud, her guards dismissed from their protection duties now Loki was safely under lock and key. Frigga didn't relax until the doors closed behind them and the calm sanctuary of her chambers washed over her. The food had been laid out on the balcony.

"I'm forbidden from visiting." Frigga said suddenly and Eiraflinched.

"I'm sorry, Your Grace." She said sincerely. It was one thing for Loki to be out of her reach but to have him so near and be kept from him. The Queen was right, it was cruel. For both of them.

Frigga turned her head, studying her young Lady in waiting as if she was seeing her for the first time. An idea was forming. She had her own plans to visit her son, by whatever means necessary, but still…

Eira sensed the look the Queen had rested on her and she didn't like it one bit. She knew that look. Her hand was still clutched in the Queen's and she quickly withdrew it. Frigga smiled. This would take some planning but perhaps not too much convincing.