"You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel," Loki continued. Truda wondered if anyone else was going to voice their objections, or if all would be cowed–wait a sec. That old man creaking to his feet was Grandpa!
"Not to men like you," he said.
Loki smiled that dangerous smile again. "There are no men like me."
Looking him straight in the eye, Grandpa stated, "There are always men like you."
Truda stared, open-mouthed. She knew who he thought of as he spoke: the Fuhrer he had served under threat of death. Apparently Grandpa had decided that silent safety at the cost of freedom wasn't worth it after all. Suddenly she respected him a whole lot more.
But what was Loki saying? "Look to your elder, people. Let him be an example."
Truda could do nothing to stop him as he pointed his scepter at her grandpa, still standing proud. As a streak of light shot outward from its tip, she cried, "No!" But she knew it was pointless. She forced herself to watch. She must be the witness to keep his memory alive, whether or not the world fell to this maniac named Loki.
Grandpa did not waver.
And in the blink of time before the blast reached and decimated the old man, a blur of color whizzed down and intercepted it. Truda almost cried with relief as the blur focused into a man dressed in red, white and blue. His circular shield bounced the deadly ray back at Loki, who collapsed from the impact. Then the stranger spoke.
"You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing."
Still infuriatingly calm, Loki replied, "The soldier. A man out of time."
"I'm not the one who's out of time," the stranger replied. A hysterical giggle worked its way out of Truda at that point, and she leaned against the lamppost, shaking. As the stranger and Loki commenced a regular fight, she painfully regained her feet and limped around the confusion to her grandfather. Awkwardly she stood before him, not knowing quite how to say what she felt. But she tried anyway.
"Grandpa . . . that was awesome."
He smiled kindly at her. "You were–how do you say it?–pretty cool yourself."
The ice had broken. Truda threw her arms around him and hugged him for the first time she could remember. "Thanks, Grandpa."
As the two turned to leave, Truda noticed that Loki now stood handcuffed beside the stranger and a friend of his in a robotic suit. Was tonight unofficially Dress as Weirdly as Possible Night or something? Loki glanced her way, and a wicked impulse sparked her grin.
Then she stuck out her tongue and curtsied most elegantly.
What a paper she'd write for Frau Hildscheim tomorrow.
And there we have it. A nice little short thing for my introduction to how the site works. Thanks for reading!