The giantess was listening to the snowflakes. They were mere whispers in the air, but present enough to still be soothing. They helped her fall asleep each night, as did Hyrrokin's cloak. She rubbed the deep blue fabric between her fingers and sighed, wrapping the material tighter around her shoulders. Cold could not bother her, but loneliness was upsetting. As were the uncomfortable stones of the cave she was sleeping in.
She slept for a few hours, and in the morning, she slipped through the crack in the universe she had found the previous night. It took her to Asgard, where the previous villagers told her a frost giant would be. As prince, no less. The stories she had heard and the research she had done gave substantial support, but she knew to not trust village gossip, and with her glamour solidified, she was free to walk through the sunlit streets without question.
She entered a tavern. Dark, spacious, full of quiet mumbles, even at this time of day. She sat down at the counter, and ordered an ale from the barkeep, who barely questioned her beyond an odd look. After her drink arrived, and a few moments passed, the man sitting at the bar next to her turned and wrinkled his eyebrows at her.
She blinked at him a few times and said coldly, "Yes?"
He frowned. "Apologies for staring, m'lady, I just have not seen you around here before. Most people in this tavern are regulars."
She looked down to the side and smiled, and then looked back at him, the expression still sticking to her lips. "You are right, I am not a regular. I have been sent to Asgard on behalf of… another kingdom. I am looking for the prince."
The man's eyebrows wrinkled up higher, and he copied her grin, though in a confused manner. "Prince Thor and the Warriors Three may be known to hold their drink, but the palace has feasts for that reason. You shan't find any of them here."
She retained her smile. "I should rephrase. I am looking for information. Confirmation that the other prince is a frost giant."
The man's smile dropped off his face. "Loki? He was brought back in chains, and is living in a cell for his attack on Midgard. Why do you want to know this? Coming from another kingdom, should you not have been ushered straight to the palace?"
She stood from her seat, and ignored his question. "What does he look like?"
"Uh- I don- Tall, black hair like yours, I guess? He wears green? Wh-why..?" He drew back from her, and cautiously looked around the tavern. Other patrons were looking their way, and the barkeep was watching the two of them carefully.
The smile was still on her face. "As a trustworthy citizen of Asgard, I believe your information."
Then in a second, she was holding a slim and shining dagger in her hand, and she thrust it into his stomach.
The giantess was held roughly by her upper arms, wrists in heavy chains, caught between two Asgardian guardsmen, who had come down to the town to take her to the palace jail. Crime was not common in Asgard. Only the best of the best lived here. The thought of it made her scoff.
She was glad that the barkeep had a short sword at the ready behind the counter. She had turned her back to him, and threw her dagger at another patron that stood up, giving him enough time to approach her and put the blade against her neck. She was glad he was not a killer, quite obviously in fact, and that the rest of the tavern customers were more comfortable calling down guards than slitting her throat. It was always nice when her observations turned out correct. She was glad she put up a convincing disguise of being a petty fighter, though the mystery of her appearance was not lost on anyone. She got curious glares more than cautious ones from the people while they waited for the guards to come fetch her. And angered ones. Oh, how she loved the look of anger. It reminded her of home.
The guards had come down in a little ship, with pretty little golden wings along the sides. How adorable. They seemed to have no interest in speaking to her, so she waited until after they boarded and disembarked again, upon the shining steps of the palace. Once in the halls, the two guards still flanking her, and the one that had steered the pearly white flying boat striding in front of them, she mustered up her most perfect smile and asked, "So, am I going to see Prince Loki now?"
The guard to her left only made a short click with his tongue, and she frowned and pouted. She had hoped for and expected a little more than that. When they got to the prison hall, she realized something was off. Most of the cells were empty, and quite a few prisoners were bleeding. Guards were running up and down the length of the dungeon. There was blood and scraps of metal on the floor. As she was tossed into a lonesome cell, she caught sight of one of the empty ones across the way, filled with items that no prisoner short of a prince would receive. Her eyes widened, and she turned around hurriedly, but was met with only a zappy yellow light. As she banged against it, it turned her skin blue. "Hey! Where are the prisoners? Where is Loki?"
One of the guards turned back towards her, and gave her a dead look. "They escaped, and then died for their transgressions. Prince Loki also has disappeared. Whatever you are thinking of trying, it will not work. Nothing breaks through those force fields."
She glowered back at him, and then settled down to the side, partially out of sight with her back against the wall. She sighed, and looked at her hand. The markings along her skin were chipped through with scarring, but it was old, and the forcefield did no damage, besides causing a tingling sensation and revealing her true form in the place where she hit it. She concentrated on the skin until it regained its cherry pink and pale coloring. She would have no luck escaping until her execution was called and she was freed from this cell. She recognized the other prisoners as marauders from around the nine realms. They may serve sentences here, but she was all too certain that Asgard would not leave her be for killing two of their own. Until then, it was an ample excuse to practice her magic.
Hours had passed, and a guard had brought her a meal. She was working on keeping ice magic in her grip without dissolving her glamour, which she could only do for about twenty seconds at the moment, when she heard words from a guard that struck her soul as they walked past. The ice she was keeping between her palms flared out around her, and her glamour flickered as her breath became heavy. She had heard stories of the icy prince of Asgard. She had read up on him upon learning that he was likely the one she was looking for. He was a trickster, always one to escape a battle. If he was dead, then what would she do?
Before she had the luxury to dig deeper into her sudden despair, the guards that had just passed looped back around to her cell, inquisitive expressions on their faces. She stared deep into their irises, and they walked away again. She heard one mutter to the other, "Geir, I swear to you I saw a flash of something in her cell…"
She looked back to her hands, and summoned another swath of ice magic. She could not think about what she would do right now. She had no opportunities to escape; once she did, she would think about Laufey's lost heir then.
A few more hours passed, and she tried to fall asleep on her side, back to the hallway, the white marble floor more uncomfortable than the stones she had slept upon previously. All at once, she heard a commotion down the hall, and heard some of the guards yelp out. She distinguished one of the cries as "Alfather", and abruptly sat up. She stood and turned around, just as a withered old man wearing gold robes and minimal armor came into view in front of her cell, staring at her. He held a staff loosely in his grip, and used it more like a walking staff than a lethal weapon. She knew why. It was a symbol of power, and she knew it well.
"Alfather," she said with a slight sneer and a wrinkle in her eyebrows. She watched him cautiously. He gave her neither a smile nor a frown, only curiosity. Her own curiosity was focused on the guards bustling about behind the ruler of Asgard and gaping at him. This was obviously not a common occurrence, the great, wise one showing up in the dungeons.
When he spoke, his voice was the low and soft trill of an old man. Part of her had no fear for him, which therefore gave her all the fear in the world. "You are an oddity, young one. How did you get here?"
"The guards put me in chains, and then in their little boat, and here I am. Do you not know how your own kingdom works?" She shot back at him.
"You might wish to tread carefully." The Alfather said as he gave her a stinging look. Then he shifted himself, and replied, "No, I know exactly how my kingdom works. And for there to have been someone to appear without use of the Bifrost… well, that leads to my kingdom being in great danger."
The giantess weighed her words to herself, and then replied swiftly. "The great convergence of the realms allowed me to accidentally slip into this one. I doubt you are under any threat of attack."
Odin gave her a blank look, and then glanced to the side. "Yes, of course. And then after you accidentally slipped in, you decided to stab someone with a dagger that seems to have magically disappeared. Would you care to tell me where it went?"
She replied with an equally pointed question. "Your son died, and yet you are not wearing garments of mourning. Would you care to tell me why?"
Odin blinked, and then stilled, and the complete quietness of it all shocked her to the core. After a few moments, the ruler spoke softly, yet fiercely. "He was not my son, he was an impostor, and I am done with him. What baffles me is your extreme interest in him. I heard that you were asking around about him when you stabbed one of my citizens. What about Loki interests you so much?"
She steeled herself and straightened her shoulders. "What interests me about Prince Loki right now is his relation to you. The great Alfather, slayer of Frost Giants, who took one under his wing when he saw it out in the withering cold. Who then somehow grew such hate for the creature that he would not refer to it as his son? Why take it in the first place? I have heard stories of you, Alfather, and all I have heard is peace and caring and kindness. You loved your sons, from how you carried them through the world. There are murals with Prince Loki upon them. What happened to you? Why do you hate so much, now?"
Odin's eyes flickered again, and his words came out oddly sharp. "How do you- Who are you?"
"My name is Rel. Who are you?" She stared straight into the Alfather's gaze, which had suddenly become uncharacteristically twitchy. Like he was not good under foreign pressure. Like he was not all knowing, neutral, and aloof. Like he had not been a ruler for long. Rel narrowed her eyes at him, and Odin backed away from her cell.
He gestured to a guard. "Hold off her trial. She knows something. And do not put any other prisoners in her cell, I do not trust her."
And with that, he turned to stride down the hall. Rel watched him go for as far as she could, and then sat down against the wall once again. Whoever he was, he did not hold himself like the King of the Gods.
A/N: Hello! So, this is kinda my big foray into the MCU. I'm a huge fan, but I haven't been writing stuff yet. Well, because of the release of Endgame (no spoilers, promise… tho you probably should've seen it by now), I was finally motivated to start on a fic. It's set a couple movies back, because a lot of my ideas are old ideas (whoops ^^'), but I love Ragnarok, so it's fun to dive back into the Thor universe through that lens. Hope you enjoy! I'll try to release another chapter in a couple weeks, or less. See you! :)