Thanks to Charlee56, for the very much needed kick up the arse to continue this!
Chapter 2 - Dammit Ása
The sweat beaded on my forehead and trickled down my neck. The tunic and trousers I was wearing were damp and sticky against feverish skin. A resounding clang echoed around the arena as our swords met and Sif swirled around to face me again.
"You are getting better. Your speed and reflexes have finally caught up with your strength and poise." Sif's words came from behind clenched teeth, but her words were still mild.
I looked her in the eyes for a moment before pulling the sword upwards and twirling around to meet her. The muscles in my arms were fatiguing and I knew I wouldn't be able to keep up the fight much longer. Moving my sword, I drove her weapon downwards while bring my shield up in a subconscious move which saved my arm. She returned by circling her sword in the attempt of removing my grasp and while I was distracted, she brought her shield down for an attack to my temple. I broke her circle with a sharp upward strike and simultaneously blocked her blow while using my shield to hit her ribs. She only stopped for a moment as the air was knocked from her lungs, but it was enough.
I hit Sif again with the shield so that she leant backwards slightly before using my leg to sweep her feet from beneath her. She fell to the ground with a thud and a crash as her armour hardened her fall. Before she could stand or retaliate, I placed a sword at her throat. She stared at me in utter surprise as I struggled with shock as well. We were both bleeding (though I had many more cuts) but I had beaten the legendary Lady Sif.
I stepped back heavily as Sif stood. I stayed back, in a sign of respect, but stubbornly kept my head up as I waited for some punishment. I would be mucking out of the stables, serving in the mess hall with all those brutes that you could barely call men or perhaps a more creative punishment for insulting a superior.
Sif stood, brushed herself off and began to laugh. A light chuckle that caught me off guard; it only lasted a few moments, but it was enough. I continued to stand at attention with a passive expression covering my features as I waited for the episode passed. She stepped forward and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder.
"You have gotten much better, Ása. Well done… Relax, Nátta*. Be proud, not fearful. With quite little training, you have become a skilled student." The use of my bequeathed nickname made me relax and a small smile began to break across my face.
I let my posture droop slightly and I bent over in the dust to retrieve Sif's sword. I spun the blade and pointed the handle towards her. It slid from my hand and I rolled my shoulders as I tried to untie the knots in my shoulders.
As I began to stretch aching muscles, Sif sent me a sideward glance and said "I believe you have been insincere Ása; you said that you had never welded a weapon before our training. You have trained before, have you not?"
I took a moment before responding "As far as I know, Sif, I have never trained. Ever since the accident… well, I have been unsure of my past."
I hoped she wouldn't press the subject; it was quite embarrassing that I didn't even know how I had lost my memories. I had tried asking around numerous times, but every time I had been rebuffed or ignored. Unfortunately, Sif wasn't satisfied.
"You have never told me what did happen to you. What happened to you, Nátta? Why can you not remember?" She spoke inquisitively, if insensitively.
The prickle of embarrassment began to rise up my neck, but my pride made me try to shove it to the pit of my stomach.
"Well, you see, it's a –"I said while trying to find the right words.
"Sif! What is this? You have been beaten by this mere waif of a woman?! Are you suffering from some terrible ailment or are you simply pampering this girl's pride?" A loud male voice called across the courtyard.
In the bright sunlight, all I could see was the silhouette of five men walking towards us and the leader, the one who had spoken out, gesturing wildly. I had expected the embarrassment to surge once more, but all I could feel was irritation and anger. I buried my anger beneath the surface, but this time, I wasn't going to let it go.
"No, I am fine! It is just that Ása is a warrior in training and she is becoming quite formidable. She may be small compared to you, but in all honesty, there are Frost Giants smaller than you, I would say!" Sif stepped up to my defence quickly, but a smile still graced her features.
The man laughed again, "As always, you are right Sif; Frost Giants are getting smaller! Though, I still fear that you are simply fuelling her pride. Let this… Ása speak. Can you speak, little girl?"
I drew level with Sif and said "Well, sir, what is it that I am supposed to say? That, yes indeed, I have beaten Sif in sword play and, yes indeed, I am a female warrior. Does your arrogance not allow you to see clearly or do you just choose not to see?"
He looked taken aback as the rest of the men and Sif began to laugh heartily. The blood quickly rose to his face, though it seemed more out of anger than embarrassment. He stepped forward until he was uncomfortably close.
"Do you know whom it is that you are mocking, little girl? It is I, Thor, Prince of Thunder, and little girl, I challenge you!" He spat out his words and then walked back to his sobering friends.
Thor?! The Crown Prince?! Ása, you idiot, what have you done?! He will smite you with a single throw and all this shall have been for nothing!
My tongue went to apologise, but my vanity put a stop to that immediately. I simply stood staring like a confused fool with nowhere to be. With a shove at my back, I turned to see Sif with a shield in her arms. She dropped it into mine and shook her head slowly.
"You have wounded his pride; he will not go easy on you. You should either yield or let him beat you early on. He will place you in the infirmary otherwise." Sif looked disappointed, though whether it was at Thor or myself I wasn't sure.
The rational, intelligent part of my brain began to run the scenarios, but the fiery pit in my stomach created a humming in my head that blocked out reason and thought.
"No. I will not be bullied. If I lose, so be it. Though, it will not be because I did not try."
With that idiocy out in the world, I turned back to the grinning man and readied my stance. He let out a bellow of a laugh/battle cry and charged.
I swung out of his way and mockingly, tapped him on the back with my sword. A hoot of low appreciation rung out in the rapidly growing crowd at my bold move and he turned back with slight blood lust in his eyes. Dammit Ása.
We exchanged glancing blows for the next terrifying minute as I tried to avoid any direct hits. Direct hit with Mjolnir = Dead Ása. He bore cuts on his cheek and shoulder from where my sword had grazed him, but I had yet to take any blows myself. He seemed to long to throw Mjolnir directly at me, but his honour kept him at bay.
Then, as I danced away, I felt my footing slip and at my moment of weakness, Prince Thor hit me squarely in the chest. I slammed into the ground with a painful thud and lay dazed as agony charged through my veins. I noticed dully that the crowds were cheering, for Prince Thor I assumed, and that somehow I was still alive. As the ringing in my head cleared, I noticed the prince strutting around like the arrogant prince he was.
How could such a conceited, idiotic boy come from such noble, kindly parents?!
Whether it was my remaining fury or the fact that he paraded with such superiority, I was not sure, but there was no way I could lose this.
Shakily (and painfully), I climbed to my feet and strode towards Prince Thor. Consumed by his glory, he failed to notice the sudden hush of the crowd and my return to my feet. He only seemed to notice as I rested my sword upon the back of his skull.
Well, you've gone this far Ása. You may as well finish what you started.
"Well, my Prince. I believe it would be fair to call it a draw."
My words were greeted with heavy silence for a moment before the air burst with cheers. Even the prince's companions joined the praise, which did little for my quaking nerves. I took a step back and drove my sword's point into the ground. Placing my hands upon its hilt, I lowered my gaze and awaited my punishment.
* Nátta = Night (because she has dark colouring compared to everyone else)
