I am truly sorry for the mistake I made, that is- I confused Volstagg, the huge guy with red hair with Fandral... I can't tell you HOW sorry I am! Thank you, mememe, to let me realized that and thank you for your support and review.
This is the story after I set the names right. Hope you can forgive the stupid mistake I made and still love this. Please.
Again, my apology.
Poisonous Prisoner
Chapter One
Something's wrong.
Gná looked around. The Gladsheim was, as it always had been, grandeur and extremely quiet. Standing in line under the broken columns, the soldiers looked heartbreakingly tired.
She walked slowly past them, gazing everyone, in case any eye contact was made. She wanted to comfort them. But no one stared back at her. At last, she gave up the idea.
Indeed, how can you heal others when they don't have any strength to recover, how can you cure others when you are wounded much more severely? She despised herself for not realizing it earlier.
The victory of the war didn't work as she had imagined. With Thor far away rebuilding what was destroyed on Earth and Frigg gone along with so many Asgardians, sorrow casted the whole realm.
But all hope was not lost. Odin looked different today, stronger, not as old and helpless as the day before. He even smiled and said to her:
"Gná, don't be such a spoiler, enjoy the triumph the victory brought to you! Though the loss was great, we shall never miss the chance to celebrate a victory. Tonight, Gná, hold a feast. Drink, dance and sing the song of the Mighty Asgard!"
For everything she had prepared herself to hear from the All Father, an idea organizing a celebration was certainly not on the top of the list. So, she cautiously looked up under her eyebrow to check if the elder meant what he said. He seemed sincere enough.
"But My King, people are in grieve…" She whispered, too afraid to state out aloud.
"People, are what we lead them, Gná. They will never stop grieving until I guide them to do so. Why not free them from the monster of sorrow while I still can? I remember there was a time when soldiers would drink for ten days without interruption. People love celebration, especially my dear son Thor."
When he pronounced Thor's name, a trace of mild light sparkled in his eyes. She only caught a glimpse of it since she dared not to stare at Odin for long, but the sight of it had imprinted deeply on her mind.
She bowed and turned to leave. Before she reached the exit, Odin called from behind:
"Oh, and Gná?"
She turned, this time having no choice but to look the All Father straight in the eyes. Odin's deep blue eyes bored directly into hers, a rather weary smile spreading on his wrinkled face.
"Yes, My King?" She asked quietly, feeling her heart beating violently inside of her chest, threatening to make itself be heard by the insightful man across the room.
"Please don't blame yourself for the Queen's demise. I'm aware that you've silently taken the burden on those delicate shoulders of yours. It is very noble yet unwise to do so."
Odin's face had much more power than his gracious word, hitting so hard on the bleeding scar in her heart that when she opened her mouth to speak, tears rushed into her eyes and blurred her view.
"But My King, I am her maid. Assisting the Queen was the only job I had in this realm. It was my obligation from the first day I arrived and it was the only reason that I let myself share the privilege of Asgard. Without this job, this responsibility, this bless, I am nothing but a pitiful—
"You mustn't use so harsh a word on yourself, Gná, not when I am still the King of Asgard, the protector of the Nine Realms, the All Father of the Universe. If there should be one truly responsible for my Queen's death, it would be me. As a King, I failed to protect my people; as a husband, I let my wife face terror and death alone; as a father, I watched my two sons split apart and let Loki fall into the darkness doing nothing to stop him…" As he spoke, his gaze no longer focused on her, and his voice no longer held it's authoritative tone of a King. He seemed to be talking to himself.
More guilt burdened her heart as the elder continued, but she refused to weep, even though she knew Odin would more likely to forgive her if he saw her tear. Through the fog gathering in her eyes, she saw the King's silhouette turned to face her again.
"My Lord, if you may dismiss me, I'll go haste the cook to prepare for the feast." The pious bow turned into a slight nodding by the head, for she feared the tears would fall down if she bent.
With a wave of the hand, Odin granted her dismissal. She quickly squeezed out the water in her eyes and left.
An instant before the door shielded her out of the room, she braced herself up to look at the man sitting on the throne.
Their eyes met.
Those fathomless sapphire eyes shined in an almost exultant way so inappropriate to the old, solemn man and the sad words he whispered moments ago that made her froze.
For a second, she couldn't remember how to breathe.
Minutes later, she wandered to the kitchen with her mind occupied by those eyes she saw. The more she recalled Odin's strange look, the more anxious she got.
Suddenly, she made an abrupt stop, her heels made a terrible sound as they scratched the marble floor.
She remembered those eyes. Or should she say, she knew those eyes?
Oh, dear Borr! She whimpered out the name that was hated by half of her lineage but was always a symbol of peace and safety in her heart.
She needed space, needed to think, needed to find an explanation for all of this, an explanation reasonable enough.
Why did Odin remind her of his adopted half-Frost-Giant, half-human son?