New story based on the Marvel Universe because it has been requested so much! This is why I was unable to post in a while, but every story is getting updated this week! This is going to tie into the comic book world and the MCU, so I hope you enjoy! Feel free to message and leave reviews because I love hearing from my readers. Enjoy! Apologies for grammar mistakes. Thanks for all the support guys!
When their mother had said something about a celebration in the palace of Asgard for the victory of the Crimson Hawks, it was safe to say all the sisters nearly shattered their eardrums with their screams, raising their voices high above to the gates of Valhalla themselves.
They had never attended such an evening before, and for such a grand occasion as a triumphant ceremony for the All Father's personal warriors. How were they not supposed to be excited beyond all reasoning?
They immediately went to work on each other the morning of the event. The girls sprung up in their beds, hurried to finish their chores, and then ran straight for the bedroom to work on each other's hair and makeup. It's what needed to be done.
Idunn grabbed Nanna's long locks in a fistful, combing out her sister's long and tangled hair. Sjofn and Snorta traded skirts and gowns between each other, them being the same size out of all the sisters. Syn, Var and Lofn were left to fight over jewels and gems. It would seem that all of Freya's darling daughters were steady at work to make themselves presentable. All save for one.
The middle child out of nine that Freya had given birth to. She was outside, laying in the grass with the sun beaming down upon her face in a worn dress that should have been thrown away years and years ago, but she kept it for the memories and sometimes to sleep in. She twirled a single strand of grass between her fingers as she held up a small book before her face, not reading it. No, she couldn't for she never learned how to read. Instead, she was just admiring the pictures that were upon the pages, and she thought to herself that if she knew enough context clues, she would be able to decipher what was happening in the story.
Her mother could read, and so whenever it was she read the girls a story, she would listen closely while all the others seem to just picture the images in their heads. Not this daughter. Instead of images, she would picture the words, imaging- or at least attempting to- how they would be spelt. So many runes to remember, so many oddly shaped ones, so many that had difficult pronunciation, but she would give up nearly anything just to be able to read a few sentences.
She was sure she could teach herself to read if she practiced long enough, but no matter how hard she tried, some things never came to her. Reading was not something she could learn to do on her own, but she refused to be aware of that fact. Instead, she ignored reason and focused on belief. Belief that one day, if she focused hard enough, she would be reading all on her own. And not just story books, but anything. Anything ranging from scholar works to books of ancient heroes to mortal works upon the realm of Midgard. She would read it all, but for now ... pictures was all she had.
"Not getting ready with your sisters, Sigyn?" a voice questioned, making the blonde haired beauty grow just a tad annoyed that her personal "reading" time had been disturbed by her eldest sister.
"I will be ready shortly," she replied, not looking away from the illustration she was gazing upon; a scene in Alfheim- home to the light elves- were beautiful creatures roamed and the grass grew as green as emeralds. The sun was shinning bright and the sky was a clear blue.
"You may want to dress just a tad bit fancier than usual tonight, Sigyn," her half sister Hnossa said. "There are going to be many brave warriors there. Warriors that I'm sure you would like to meet."
She took a seat beside her younger sister in the grass, looking at what she was reading, but unable to understand the contents herself.
"Not really," Sigyn said honestly. "I am not all that interested in the warriors."
"Oh, but Sigyn," Hnossa went on to say, "these are not just any warriors. These are the Crimson Hawks. The personal warriors of the All Father himself. Are you aware of how much of an honor it is to be in their presence?"
"I guess I am just not all that excited," Sigyn said calmly.
"Ah, that is just because you have not been keeping tabs on politics and the wars," Hnossa reasoned. "They have many a great victory this previous year. And some have yet to take a wife."
Sigyn giggled and sat up straight, closing the book and placing it promptly on her lap across her folded legs.
"Oh, dear Hnossa," she began, "is that what you and mother intend to do tonight? Marry all of us off? Well, I think not. I could never give my heart to a Crimson Hawk. That is redundant. Let alone would I ever be with someone involved in Asgard's politics. I would not be able to handle the lifestyle."
Hnossa shrugged at her sister's words. "You never do know, Sigyn," she assured. "If you love someone enough, you might find yourself crossing over all nine of the realms for them and crossing over Hel ten times. Someone may even be willing to do the same for you one day."
Sigyn shook her head, brushing back her blonde hair and shutting her blue eyes as she felt the warmth of the sun on her skin. It was so nice and wonderful, she enjoyed it immensely.
"I doubt that is ever going to happen, Hnossa," she admitted. "I doubt anyone will ever love me that much, but let us go. I figure tis time for me to get ready anyway. Let us go, Sister. You can help me prepare for this horrid of evenings where I shall meet no one special."
Hnossa laughed as the two girls stood from their spots in the grass.
"Always so optimistic, Sigyn."
The procession was long and sorrowful. The stars even seemed to be dimmed and the souls that were present had all lost their sense of happiness and joy in these worlds for this night, for this night was not about happiness. It was not a celebration. It was a chance to mourn the one that they all loved and adored in their own ways as she passed on. As she left them. As she ascended into Valhalla.
But she was sure she was the most saddened out of all of the other simple servants that were in attendance. She also knew that the All Father's grief was un-paralleled to any others, but she found herself compelled to ask. She made a promise to her, the All Mother, the Queen, Frigga, before she died. She made a promise, and when she makes promises, even with the dead, she was sure to keep them. She needed to keep them. And so she approached the All Father's throne room, trailing her black garments behind her.
Lace. It was all lace. Her dress, its train, everything was black laced with roses in it. The attack was hard, it was scary, but she was protected. She was hidden, but she had lost someone dear to her ... again. But, he wasn't lost. He was just ... hidden.
And so, when she approached the All Father, she knelt before him and then stood up tall, but her head still bowed.
"Please accept my condolences, All Father," she began, "for I am truly sorry for your loss." Her words were true, and even Odin knew that.
"As I know you speak true, dear child," Odin spoke in reply, and she could hear the heartache in his voice as he did so. "She dotted upon you the most, but your condolences are not all you came here for, are they?"
She swallowed hard, but after what she has been through, Odin was far from intimidating to her.
"No, All Father," she said. "They are not."
"No," he grumbled. "I thought not." Silence for a moment before he spoke again. "You wish to tell him."
She blinked her blue eyes up to him, her King, and said nothing.
"Yes," Odin muttered. "I have already sent someone to tell him. He already knows."
"That's not why I have come to you, All Father," she assured. "I know someone has already been sent to tell him." She took a breath and built up her courage. "But I also know that he was unable to attend the procession, and-"
"That is his own fault," Odin nearly snarled at her, but she remained calm and she mentally slowed her heart rate. She could do this. She could handle him. She has handled worser people. Scarier people.
"Indeed, All Father," she agreed, "but she was still important to him. He still loved her, and he still-"
"Enough words, foolish girl!" Odin roared. "No visitors! That was the order I sent. That is the order that shall stand."
She had not flinched when Odin bellowed at her. She hadn't even felt slightly frightened. Rather, she was growing angry. Enraged and impatient, even. The All Father was someone whom she never really had respect for inwardly, but she was always sure to present it when before him and when she spoke of him, especially now in his dark hours of mourning.
"I know of your order, All Father," she spoke in the same tone she had been speaking in. "And I respect it. However, I do feel that sometimes ... tis better to answer injustice with mercy. Allow comfort when needed. You have your son, but now ... he has no one. Allow me to offer my sympathies to him. Just for a moment. Just for tonight. No one should be forced to mourn the death of a loved one alone. Not even him."
Odin was seemingly moved, but still not fully swayed. He was in rage, in somber, and in denial that he had been a bad father. He looked away, feeling as though the girl was more powerful than he for even a brief moment, but he soon shifted his one eyed gaze back to her and spoke in pride.
"I will answer injustice with justice, little girl. No visitors. Not now ... Not ever."
They had settled on a shimmering light blue gown to match her eyes and the sky, making Sigyn appear far more majestic than any of her sisters. She out shined even her mother's radiance in the Grand Hall when the crowd gathered in the pews and examined the crowd that passed. Sigyn took her place standing in the middle of her sisters as the ceremony began.
The crowd stood tall when the horns sounded and the first to proceed down the aisle was the Lady Sif, escorted by herself and herself alone. Sigyn secretly admired the strong warrior, a woman, no doubt. She was an inspiration for a young woman such as herself, marching upon the golden floor without a man beside her, a sword attached to her hip and a warrior title stuck unto her.
Following the procession of the Lady Sif was the Warriors Three, all standing together as they approached the golden throne of the All Father Odin himself. Many women lost their cool as they walked, standing a little taller, clapping a little louder, and jumping a bit in their place. Her sisters reacted the same, but Sigyn merely stood in her place and clapped as she had been the entire time.
After the Warriors Three came the queen, All Mother Frigga, escorted by her two sons; Prince Thor the Thunderer and Prince Loki the Trickster. One stood on either side of her as if they were her own personal guard, overly protective of their mother. She wasn't the queen to them, they weren't the princes to her. They were family, and it was clear in just how they walked together, smiling wide as they did so.
Thor was dressed in his usual red and silvers, hawk helmet upon his head with a strong step as walked proudly throughout the people who applauded his mere appearance, so close to them. On his face was a jolly smile, his blond hair grown out and his blue eyes bright with happiness.
Loki was covered in greens and golds, his horned helmet balanced on the top of his head, his slightly grown out black hair sleeked back, curved at the back of his neck. He was fairly tall, but not all that muscular. Nothing like his brother, but not small either. More lean than anything which added a nice flare to his appearance. His pure green eyes were unlike anything in any of the worlds, and he seemed to walk softly and with patience. The sly smirk on his face told the crowd that he had plans of mischief for the feast that would follow, but what would one expect from the God of Mischief? Nothing less.
Once the two princes and the All Mother took their positions, the All Father entered with Crimson Hawk warriors nearly surrounding him. The hall bursted into a loud roar of applause, praising their king who was dressed in all gold, symbolizing the strength and wealth in his realm and his kingship. It was without Odin that Asgard would be truly lost, so everyone seemed to agree. But as Hnossa had said, Sigyn was never one for keeping up with politics, and so she was not sure what was so different between Odin's reign and his predecessor Bor's. Still, people had said that he had made a great improvement to the realm from what his father had managed to accomplish, and so Sigyn assumed that if enough people believed it, it must be so. Still, she was always a bit hesitant to just accept things as they are rather than question them.
All the same, she clapped along with the crowd and watched as the All Father was lead by his guards, spear held tightly in hand, and his grand helmet seated at the top of his graying head. He was aging at this point, having lived for so many years, worshiped like a god from the mortals below. They all were in a sense. But Odin had insisted that they were not gods for they were born, they shall live, and they shall- one day- eventually die.
Once he took his position before his throne, Odin gave one bang of his spear and brought the crowd to a silence, allowing them to be seated should they have been lucky enough to find a pew that was open.
Sigyn straightened out her blue gown and relaxed in the pew in between her sisters Lofn and Snotra. She folded her hands in her lap, and listened to the All Father's words as he spoke, picturing their spelling in her mind as he went.
"Friends," he started, "family, people of Asgard ... we have gathered here today in celebration of the victory of the great Crimson Hawk warriors and admire them for their bravery and service to the realm eternal, the realm of Asgard."
Another applause, and so Sigyn clapped along as her sisters cooed over the handsome Prince Thor.
"Imagine," Snotra muttered to Syn loud enough for Sigyn to hear, "being the Princess of Asgard by marrying Prince Thor!"
The two girls shared in a giggle, Sigyn allowing them to have their fun and not informing her sisters of how impolite it was to converse of fantasies while their King spoke of brave souls who took up arms in combat. She figured she let the little ones coo if they wished. She raised her chin a little taller, and focused on the All Father's words, only at times picking up on her sister's conversations.
"Through great times of horror and bloodshed," Odin went on when the applause died down, "these brave men continued to fight for the good of their realm and all the realms combined. They have proven their strength and loyalty to Asgard in ways we never deemed imaginable. In the bravest way of all. And so we thank them, as Asgardians, from the bottom of our hearts for their courage, their strength, and their loyalty to Asgard, the realm eternal."
"If Prince Thor and I were to marry and have a child," Snotra whispered to Syn, "it would be the most beautiful child in all of Asgard."
"Oh, well," Syn chimed in, "if I were to have a child with Prince Thor, it would be the most beautiful most talented child in all Nine of the Realms!"
Sigyn inwardly giggled and rolled her blue eyes, still sitting as calmly as ever. A privilege to be here, she knew that, but her sisters's tiny side conversation was perhaps more entertaining than Odin's speech.
"Why so interested in Prince Thor?" Sigyn found herself budding in in a whisper that no one, save for her sisters, seemed to notice. "Is it because he is handsome or because he is the heir of Asgard?"
Snotra and Syn shared in a look before stumbling for words.
"Because he is ... well ..." Snotra attempted to answer.
"Because he is going to make a great king someday," Syn responded proudly.
Sigyn nodded.
"How do you know?" she questioned next. "What is his thoughts on the poverty level? The threat of the frost giants? The expense of home building? How about the homeless or the orphaned children?"
Just because Sigyn did not keep up with politics did not mean that she had no clue what was a pressing issue for Asgard and what was not. She knew of the issues, but she did not keep track of what was being done to improve them because, so far, nothing had worked.
"Umm..." Syn looked to her sister for help, but Snotra came up with nothing.
"Who knows?" Sigyn shrugged, looking straight at Prince Thor with curious eyes. "He may be a wonderful king. He may be a poor one. Heck, maybe his younger brother, the second heir, Prince Loki may be better at the job ... and we would never know," she said as her eyes shifted between the two princes. It was a pending question.
"Prince Loki?" Syn asked with a hint of disgust in her voice, bringing Sigyn's eyes back to her sisters. "No way."
"Why not?" Sigyn questioned.
"Well ..." Syn began, "he is just so ... so ..."
"Different," Snotra answered for her sister.
"Yes! Thank you, Snotra. Different. Prince Loki is really different."
"Yes," Sigyn agreed as she turned her eyes back to the Prince in green. "I suppose he is."
She took a breath and really looked at him. He certainly appeared sophisticated and intelligent while Thor seemed more 'smash- smash- hit- stomp- smash.' Prince Loki just had something about him that convinced her that he would not be so bad as a king, and wondered why it was that the succession of the throne goes by order of birth and not order of capability.
"But different is not always so bad," she concluded, wondering maybe ... just maybe ... Prince Loki was more fit for the throne than his older brother.
"You really shouldn't be doing this," she warned as Prince Thor led the way down the stone stairs, her black train still trailing behind her as her heels made an echo against the stones. "You can get into an awful amount of trouble."
"My father," Thor argued, "can become upset with me, but I agree with you in the matter that some cruelty is just too horrid to withstand, even for those who have done the most damage. And, besides," he looked over his shoulder and smiled at her, "who's to say he is going to find out?"
"Prisoner's have mouths, too, Thor," she said in response, to which he shrugged it off.
"But who listens to prisoners?"
It was a long ways down, and then you still had guards to deal with once you got there, but that was the least of her concerns. Especially given the fact that she was not going down alone. She did have the Prince of Asgard with her.
And, sure enough, two guards dressed in golds and whites stood at the end of the stairs, firm as statues.
"Grant the Lady pass under orders of the All Father," Thor commanded, but was denied of his power.
"The All Father said she would wish to pass, and that we are forbidden to let her through. No visitors was the order, my Lord. Not now. Not ever," one guard spoke in return, making the Thunder God grow impatient as usual.
"I know of the order given," Thor said, "but I'm giving you a new one. Let her pass."
"He is forbidden from having visitors," the other guard chimed in.
"And I'm forbidden from standing here wasting my time," Thor countered, and with a steady motion, both guards found their faces connected to Thor's fist, both lying on the floor fast asleep.
"Go," he told her, "you have but a few moments."
She began to race down the prison corridors, but stopped when she realized she wasn't being followed. She peeked over her shoulder and saw Thor standing in place, looking up the stairs to be sure no more men came to investigate the clatter.
"You are not coming?" she asked her Prince, grabbing Thor's attention and deeply disturbed by his response.
"I have no more connections to him," Thor said, so sure of himself, but also saddened by it as well.
"You need to always have a connection with him," she argued. "You have been through too much together."
"And he has done too much to throw it all away," Thor countered.
"He is lost, and broken ... he has made some huge and very eradicate mistakes, Thor, but he is still family and he still needs you. You can be angry with him all you want, but please ... don't give up on him, because he is worth giving a damn about."
Thor looked down, thinking of what it was she had said, and nodding in compliance. His blue eyes met up with hers in a steady and heavy gaze.
"I will always be angry with him. I will never forgive him ... but I will never give up on him," Thor said, and with that, she turned and ran to his cell.
At least a hundred names had been called, and Sigyn was growing bored and impatient. Sitting still, applauding whenever it was a warrior dressed in scarlets and purples came before the throne of the All Father to be recognized by the public for their bravery. Her palms were beginning to sting, her spine beginning to burn, and her younger sisters growing more restless than new born babes.
They certainly were dragging the ceremony out longer than need be. Each Crimson Hawk walked down the golden aisle with the music from the horns escorting them. Some were comical in their approach to their king, others far too serious for her own liking. It was nice when she got to smile at some small act of humor. Something so simple as one Crimson Hawk raising his sword above his head with pride, another nearly dancing down the golden aisle with glee. The small things are what made her smile.
In any case, it seemed to have been hours before the All Father spoke again, the last of the Crimson Hawks now standing along the steps of the throne. As Odin stood, the crowd grew into silence, and it was then that it hit Sigyn that the Warriors Three, the Lady Sif, and the Royal Family had been standing the entire time and have so rarely readjusted themselves. Their left or right foot had to remain one step higher than the other, making them unable to shift their weight onto the other leg. It must have been torture. Still, they showed no sign of discomfort, and still remained as tall and stiff in their posture as ever.
Good for them, Sigyn thought to herself, wiggling a bit in her seat.
"Myself and the rest of Asgard would like to praise this warrior for his bravery and his nobility and his honor to Asgard and his King. This warrior has gone above and beyond to do his duty and to protect his men in times of battle and war. He is an inspiration to us all, and so has the great honor of becoming my personal warrior. Ladies and gentlemen, children of Asgard, the great Crimson Hawk; Theoric," Odin proclaimed.
And when the warrior stepped out into the view of everyone who was within the hall, Sigyn's blue eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped open. The handsome warrior wore a proud smile on his face, his chin raised and his eyes bright with honor. His armor and uniform shimmered in the light of Asgard's sun, and his beautiful face seemed to brighten up everyone in the room.
"Theoric," Sigyn muttered to herself as he passed by her to kneel before the All Father, right fist over his heart as he pledged himself to his king. Sigyn smiled wide at him, feeling her heart beat loudly and hard in her chest. "Theoric," she repeated.
Last cell, all the way down past the horrid creatures who licked the glass and spat out vile things at her. She did her best to ignore them, but all the inappropriate words made her feel sick inside despite her having had heard worse.
She had never been to such a place, so far beneath the soil. He was literally buried, as though he had died, the same as his mother. He was gone from prying eyes and wonderful events. Away from politics and his forgotten life. She felt sorry for him, and she truly wished she could see him in other ways than in secret, but she knew she would get and earful from the All Father if he was to find out that she was in here now.
In any case, she would choose to ignore Odin. He was far more important to her than Odin's rule and order. He was there for her when she needed him, even if they barely knew each other. They still had trust and they still needed to have each other's back, or else both would truly have no one.
She reached his cell and stopped before it, looking into the glass with horror and disgust. He had gone insane.
He was throwing chairs, flipping tables, breaking lamps, on a rampage, just destroying everything. His hands and feet were bleeding, but he paid them no mind as he banged his fists against the wall and slumped to the floor where he let out an enraged, sorrowful scream.
His eyes were wet, clear from crying, and his hair was distressed, nowhere as neat as it usually was before all of this had happened.
"Loki," she spoke as she came up to the side of the cell to be next to him.
He looked to her, she standing right there, just beyond the glass barrier that kept him contained as though he were a zoo animal on display.
"Loki," she cried as she began to let water leak from her eyes as well, placing her hand on the glass.
"You're here?" he questioned, at first, unable to believe that his only true acquaintance was unharmed. Not a scratch on her, but it was clear that she was broken.
"You're here," he stated, realizing he wasn't imagining her. It wasn't a dream. He placed his hand on top of hers over the glass, the closest they came to touching one another through the cell he was imprisoned in.
"It's my fault," he confessed to her. "It's my fault." More tears pricked at his eyes, streaming down his face as he continued to sob.
"I did it, Sigyn," Loki wept. "I killed my mother."