Asgard. City of the gods- good for the most part. Some…not so much. The Midgardians see us all as powerful and important. I suppose when they look at a prince like Thor, it's impossible for that to be anything but true.
Well it's not.
I have never deluded myself that I was important- or powerful. I was a nobody in Asgard. A freak, some might say. The great Allfather had only taken me in because I was distantly related. Very distantly related. I'd tried to work out my parentage one day long ago, but gave up. Knowing wouldn't make my situation any better. The other gods had teased me for having no innate talent. Why shouldn't they? Thor had his lightning, and the others their own skills. I had nothing. So I learned early on to keep to myself. At least if I was alone, they couldn't hurt me.
That had worked for a while, but the Allfather must have remembered me suddenly. After a particularly successful battle against the Dark Elves, he was announcing gifts to his warriors. To my horror, I heard him call out my name- a wife for the warrior Danethar. At first I thought it was a mistake. After all, I was a free Asgardian, not some trinket to be traded away without even asking. But Odin had done just that.
I glanced at Danethar. He was doing his best not to scowl, from what I saw. The Allfather seemed not to notice that neither party seemed overly happy with his choice of gift. He'd already moved on to the next subject.
What did I do to deserve this, I'd cried inwardly at the time. I never asked for anything but to be left alone. I don't want to be a wife.
So I'd gone to Frigga the next morning- as early as I dared. The Queen admitted me, and had listened as I pleaded to be released from my fate. But Frigga had done nothing for me. Two days later, she'd brought back news that Odin would not rescind his gift, or exchange it for another. I still wasn't sure whether the woman had even tried to convince him to do either.
Danethar and I were wed days later, and I had only one goal that day. I refused to let anyone see me cry. Not a single tear throughout the whole ceremony or the feast afterwards. Not even when the brute of a man hauled me out of my chair and half-dragged me off to the house we were now to share as husband and wife.
But the tears did come in the end. I wouldn't think about what happened to cause them. Couldn't. Or I might find out just how hard it was to kill an Asgardian. I'd come close the next morning, standing on the edge of a tower high above the city. Sadly, I didn't have the nerve- or the conviction- to leap. Instead, I forced myself to bury memories of that night.
Of every night.
Over the past two months, I'd buried a lot of things where they couldn't see the light of day. Judging by the look on Danethar's face, today would give me another memory to add to that horde.
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