ASGÅRD
People filled the streets and the market-places, waving flags and banners, cheering and applauding. All their focused aimed at a hovering long-ship that was closing in on the impressive city, its anti-gravity struts, extending like oars from the side of the ship, leaving a thin trail of glowing sparks as anti-gravitational forces caused friction against the gravitational energies of the disc-world that was Asgård. The sun-sail glowed as it harnessed the raw power of the sun and stars. The people of Asgård could not contain themselves as the impressive vessel came in to dock. And up on the balcony of the royal palace, the fortress of Valhall, stood a proud king and father, together with his wife and his trusted friends.
The long-ship retracted the anti-gravity struts and the sun-sail was folded into the mast itself as the beautiful vessel docked in the harbor. As the airlock on its side opened and a boarding-ramp extended to touch solid ground, the people cheered if possibly even greater. And then, the crowd roared. Six feet tall, long blonde hair, a blonde beard that was well kept and evenly cut, blue eyes that screamed joyful youth and a smile so dashing and charming it could melt ice. Thor, son of Odin, hero of Asgård, walked down the boarding-ramp, his red cloak moving in the wind. Thor waved at the people, laughed with them, grinned and held his weapon high triumphantly; the great warhammer known as Mjölner.
On the balcony, Thor's mother could not help but smile and shake her head at her sons cocky nature. Odin, with his one eye covered by a patch, rested against his spear as he studied his sons return and the love the people showed for him.
"A true hero of the people" an impressive figure said, standing next to Odin.
Odin offered Heimdall a glance. "Yes. A hero. And a spoiled child at the same time."
"Odin" Frigg said, queen of Asgård and mother of Thor. "You are too hard on him."
A towering man took a step forward, his beard reaching far down to cover his chest, his left arm lost to battle many years before. "He has yet to see real battle. He has been spared from war. His longing for glory could prove dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Frigg snarled. "And that comes from the mouth of Tyr? Who burned Alfheim to the ground?" she asked with bile in her words. "Who brought Jottunheim to its knees? Who forced Vanaheim to accept surrender? And at what cost, Tyr, Lord of War?"
Tyr, his single hand resting against the impressive axe that he carried in his belt, offered Frigg a bow of respect without providing her with a reply. The queen was known for her temper and at times it was best to step down without a fight.
"Still" Heimdall said when things had settled a bit on the balcony. "In his quest to protect the people, young Thor has come to think of battle as virtuous, rather than a regrettable and horrible thing."
Odin nodded. "He will grow up in time. He is still young."
Thor walked the entire length from the docks to the palace, basking in the praise from the crowd, closely followed by his trusted companions; the warriors Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg and Siv, their skill and bravery in battle praised in their own right by the people of Asgård. Upon entering the great hall of Valhall, the lords and ladies of court applauded as Thor and his friends headed straight for the majestic throne at the far end, Thor smiling and waving with every step. Queen Frigg sighed and shook her head, a faint hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. Odin was stoic, a face of stone, where he sat on the throne, the spear Gungnir in his hand, the magical weapon could not miss its intended target.
Thor fell to a knee before his father, lowered his head out of respect and then held up his hammer with pride.
"Father!" Thor said aloud. "I return to you from Vanaheim with glad news! I have defeated the marauders that has plagued the Vanir for so long and vanquished their leader, destroyed their ships and scattered their numbers! Your people are once more safe! For the glory of Asgård!"
"So I'm told" Odin said, sounding barely impressed, offering a brief glance to the side where a thin man sat hunched like a bird on a perch, his attire covered with black feathers. Then, the great king turned his attention back to his son. "You have once more honored my name by victory in battle. No king could ever hope for a more loyal and courageous subject, and no father has ever felt more pride for his son than I. On behalf of the Nine Realms, Thor, I salute you."
The crowd present in the courtroom exploded with applauds and cheers. Thor got up on his legs and turned to receive the praise and admiration of everyone present.
The festivities continued for many hours and food and drink was offered in abundance. Thor was enjoying himself together with his close friends when he was approached by Heimdall, the Guardian of Bifrost.
"Heimdall!" Thor said and raised his horn in a toast. "Did your all-seeing eyes see me when I smashed the head of that foul-smelling troll? I buried that head with a single blow so far into the ground it will never be found again!" Thor laughed and everyone around him joined in on the laughter.
"I saw" Heimdall said, barely impressed. "Your skill in battle is almost unmatched in the history of Asgård, young Thor. But having mastered the use of the hammer in battle, perhaps it is time to master the hammer in times of peace?"
"Peace?" Thor chuckled. "Asgård has so many enemies, there will never be peace. Our treaties with the realms may keep kings and queens at bay, but giants and trolls will always prey on the lands we intend to safekeep. Peace is nothing but the silence between two conflicts, good Heimdall. And the silence will always be interrupted by the drums of war."
"Perhaps" Heimdall nodded. "I do not argue with your conclusion, my prince, but perhaps there is more than simply waiting for the drums of war to sound again. Perhaps there is something that can be learned from the silence?"
Thor eyed Heimdall with some suspicion, then burst into laughter. "Heimdall, you're sounding more and more like Bragi! Have you had too much mead, perhaps?!"
Sitting in his throne, Odin watched the festivities unfold and play out, a great horn of gold in his hand, filled to the brim with mead. Joining him was the thin man, dressed in simple garbs and black feathers.
"There is talk, my king" the thin figure said, his black hair combed back. "There is trouble in Alfheim. Trouble waiting for the moment to strike."
"Can we act upon it?" Odin asked after drinking a mouthful of mead.
"Strike now and all the Alfir will turn on you, the spark that will ignite their terrible vengeance" the thin figure, known as Hugin, said. "Wait, and they will wage war on Asgård."
"Who would ally with them, should we act now?" Odin asked.
"Surely Muspelheim, my king" Hugin said. "Surtur would quickly come to the aid of Malekith. And in so doing, could possibly Jottunheim join with their forces? Could Tyr and the Einherjar resist such a force? Could Freya and the Valkyries?"
Odin thought upon his options, then drank some more mead. "We will wait" he then said. "Go, find your brother and keep a careful watch on Malekith and the Alfir. Once they make their move, we will be quick to strike them down without mercy."
"As you wish, my king."
Hugin backed away, turned and took a couple of quick steps towards a large open window. In mid-step he transformed into a large raven that escaped the festivities and vanished into the skies above. Odin looked out across the festivities filling his great hall and spotted Thor easily enough, lifting a young woman up on his shoulder with one hand while drinking from a massive horn with his other.
NIFELHEIM
Hel, dressed in black iron and dark green cloth, dragging a long cape of black fur behind her, left the winding stairs behind her and set foot in the deepest dungeon of her fortress. Water dripped from the ceiling, a thin layer of frost covered the floor, the air was foul to breathe and tasted of ash. Walking through the ill-lit chamber, her helmet with its eight horns made her appear like a demon. The only door in the cavern parted before her as she approached it, allowing her free passage without slowing her step. Inside she found Sigyn, the bold woman that had brought word from Hel's father to the Lady of Nifelheim.
Sigyn was standing next to a wretched looking man, his limbs shackled with chains that stretched him out, his back pinned down over a viscious stalagmite, the poor wretch unable to move without allowing the point of the stalagmite to dig itself deeper into his skin. Sigyn was doing her best to catch drips of liquod with two wooden plates, denying the liquid to touch the poor man in captivity. But every now and then, a drop would strike his skin, and the acid burned like fire. Hel smiled as the smoke rose from his chest and his lungs let forth a terrible howl of pain.
"Please!" Sigyn pleaded to Hel. "Make it stop! If only for a moment!"
Hel smiled, then made a gesture with her hand and the dripping from above ended. Sigyn let out a sigh of relief and took a step back, relieved she could find a moment to rest.
"Enjoy the respite while it lasts" Hel said and started to slowly move in a circle around Sigyn and the captive, keeping a safe distance despite the shackles securing the prisoner. "It wont last long."
"Malekith took the bait" the man said, his words a hiss through his teeth. "Why else would you come here?"
"He did" Hel said. "His lust for vengeance blinds him. He prepares now, as we speak, to retrieve the Stone. In return, he will make me his queen."
"How generous of him" the man hissed. "Please… could you?"
"Why should I?" Hel asked. "Why should I not ally myself with Malekith? Being queen of Asgård is more than you have ever offered me… father."
The wretched creature turned its head and aimed intimidating eyes on Hel, his face partially hidden behind pitch-black hair. Then, the face split in a smile, a smile worthy of an insane jester from a different universe. "Your greed will be your undoing, daughter. You think you can control Malekith? You think you can control Surtur? You think you can defeat Odin?"
The laughter that escaped the prisoners throat was diabolical, sinister and insulting all at once. Hel frowned, a frown of hate and scorn. But she knew he was right; Malekith would betray her the very moment she was crowned queen, Surtur would wage war on them all the moment Odin was dead and Odin… Well, Hel did not possess the power to even cause him any greater harm in mortal combat. She could not get what she desired without the help of this creature caught in her dungeon. Hel swept her hand quickly left from right, and the chains slacked and the stalagmite retracted into the floor within seconds.
Sigyn ran up to the man and placed her hands on him to offer him aid and comfort, but she was instantly pushed to the side. Slowly, he got up on his feet, stretched his body and his limbs and groaned from the pain and ache. Then, as Sigyn and Hel watched, their hearts were filled with both horror and awe as the man was magically covered in robes and garments, pieces of armor covering his arms and shoulder. And a golden helmet, with two immense horns protruding from where the helm covered his forehead.
"Thank you, daughter" the man said and slowly turned, a vicious smile on his face.
"I trust returning to you, your powers" Hel said, "is proof of my loyalty, father?"
"Loyalty?" Hel's father said, as if tasting the word.
He then flew upon her, his hand tight around her throat, squeezing the air out of her.
"Loyalty?!" he roared, his eyes mad with rage. "You placed me here to rot! To slowly corrode and decay away like a forgotten piece of metal! And you claim you are loyal to me?!"
"I… had… no choice…" Hel managed to push from her throat. "It… was… Odin's… demands…"
"You miserable creature" the man growled, never releasing his iron grip on her throat. "You will obey anyone who has power. You will spread your legs for anyone that can give you power. You are a sad, pathetic thing."
Hel was flung across the room, bouncing of the wall, leaving a crack in the rock.
"Look at my son!"
Hel looked up from the floor and to where her father was pointing; the small cage that contained the skeleton of a man, covered in dust and the web of spiders.
"Look At My Son!"
Hel looked, and then turned her eyes on her father, as she slowly climbed back on her feet. "Yes… father. I see him. The son of this whore you call wife." Sigyn turned into a frown, her disdain of Hel was all too apparent. "A son I willingly doomed for he was weak! Unworthy! Nothing like Fenrir or Jormun! Nothing like ME!"
"You think yourself my heir? You think yourself worthy?"
"YES!" Hel growled, eyes burning with rage. "Would that fool leave you here to die?!" she spat and pointed at the skeleton in the cage. "Would he curse his own brother? His own sister? Would Narfe do any of that?! Would he betray Odin and set you free?! Do you think that fool would have forgiven you for your crimes?!"
Hel breathed heavily and her father slowly walked on over to her. She recoiled half a step as his hand found her cheek and then gently stroked it.
"Hel… my daughter… How impressive you have turned out to be."
Sigyn could no longer contain her anger. "You can not let this bitch of a hag go unpunished for her treachery! She betrayed you! You must listen to me, Loki!"
Loki, father of Hel, husband of Sigyn, turned to look at his wife. "You have remained a faithful wife for so long, my gratitude knows no bounds. But your hatred of my daughter will place my plans in grave danger. So much so, that you will be the cause of my undoing."
"Husband… no."
A flash of light erupted from Loki's extended hand and within the blink of an eye, Sigyn was impaled through the chest by the sword Laevateinn, a cruel looking thing of black iron. Sigyn sank to her knees as blood poured from her wounds, dripping from the edges of sword impaling her. Loki made a quick gesture of his hand and the weapon vanished in a burst of light that ended as sudden as it had begun.
"I am sorry, my good wife" Loki said. "But my hatred of Odin was always stronger than my love for you."
With her dying breath, Sigyn watched as her husband left the dungeon together with his daughter. She tried to speak, but could not find the air to do so. As she was left alone, she glanced briefly at the remains of her son, the skeleton in the cage, and let out her final breath.
To be continued…