I look up at the AllFather, I guess I should be honoured that he has deemed me worthy of his time at all. The royal court too, it looks like everyone has turned up for the sentencing of Sigmundr Ralfisonn, even the two princes, still caught up in the youth of their teenage years.
The steady clink of chains accompanies my each and every step, that and three guards, each with steeled, emotionless expressions.
We come to a stop a few metres away from the steps which lead up to the AllFather's throne. There, I am forced to my knees.
It was already silent in the room but it seems even peoples' breathing becomes muted as Odin AllFather stands, Gungnir in hand.
"You, Sigmundr Ralfisonn, are charged with attempted murder, treason, and aiding a wanted criminal." There's no asking if I plead guilty or innocent, that isn't how it works in Asgard. I want to say that they're all wrong, I'm not a criminal and I would never wish any harm upon the AllMother. How was I supposed to know that my lover was a spy from Alfheim, a spell weaver in disguise no less!
"Your sentence for these most grievous crimes, is to be sent to the dungeons." The dungeons, such is as I feared. I keep my face as blank as possible, I will not provide more fuel for palace gossip, not that it matters, I will never hear it with my own ears. To be sentenced to the dungeons is to be sentenced for life. The court of Asgard is unforgiving, there are no second chances.
I'm dragged back to my feet, mind feeling blank and numb all of a sudden. My legs are like lead, completely useless right now. I see the crowned prince turn away, but the eye of his younger brother, prince Loki, follow me for a few seconds before he too turns away.
It will take a while before it all kicks in, but it will eventually. The court begins to talk, the noise level rising once more, no doubt servants are already spreading the news.
Everyone will forget my name soon enough, such is the fate of everyone who is sentenced to the cells, your very existence is cast away from the minds of everyone you once knew. It might take months, perhaps even years, but come the turn of the century, nobody will remember that I am rotting away in a cell.
The clink of chains once more accompanies by reluctant steps.
I'm not sure what to expect, eternal torture, complete isolation perhaps, nobody knows. Only the Einherjar venture to that wing of the palace, and they are loyal and tight-lipped on the matter. Not that it matters, soon enough it will become all I ever knew.