The throne of Jotunheim had once been a seat of pride. It had seated the king Laufey for over a thousand years. But as of late, it has been the reason that a civil war was boiling up. Clans, houses, families, were all split on who should rule. When Laufey's surviving children denied ruling the throne, his younger (and corrupt) brother Olen stepped up. He ruled less than forty moons before a stranger approached.
This stranger was a woman. Not just any woman, but she appeared to be an Aesir. But her pasty skin and dark blue hair made her appear to not be an Aesir. Olen found it amusing, either way.
"What is a woman doing in my court? Are you a new concubine?" The other men in the court all chuckled. The woman's face was that of indifference. Her voice dripped of hauty intentions.
"And what is a pig doing on the throne? I thought Jotun were more civilized than this." The Jotun all fell silent. How dare a little brat such as herself walk in to their court and insult them?
Olen stood and approached the woman. She only came up to his hips, somewhat shorter than an Aesir. He kneeled down to her, and even then she was shorter. He stared into her blue eyes. They expressed a mix of fear, anger, and sorrow. Before he could even react, the woman impaled him with her claws. He collapsed into a puddle of his own blood, left to bleed out. His eyes watched her as she approached the middle of the room. His sons and daughters all started to move around her. Her claws twitched, blood and pieces of tissue falling off.
The eldest attacked first. He went for her from behind. He was easily mowed down by the smaller woman. She jumped onto his shoulders and ripped his neck apart before jumping on another Jotun and tearing apart his chest. She landed on the ground and jumped onto another Jotun. She gouged his eyes out, then pounced another one. She pulled out a golden war axe and smashed its blade into the Jotun's face. She landed, with the Jotun's body, on the ground. She dodged an ice blade to her chest and sliced off that Jotun's arm. More and more were starting to gather to take a swing at this little female. All except for one Jotun. He stood back and watched from the distance as his siblings and his father's court were murdered by this tiny creature.
As the last Jotun fell, the girl looked exhausted. She had cuts and stabs all over her, and blood on every inch of her body. She saw the Jotun standing there and pointed her axe at him, growling lowly. Her voice was hoarse compared to the regal attitude she had only minutes ago.
"Are you waiting to kill me" she asked. He shook his head and approached her slowly. He showed his hands to point out he bore no weapons. The woman kept her axe up.
"Stay back. I'll kill you too-ah!" She fell over one of the bodies on the ground. The Jotun hurried to her aid and took the axe from her. He threw it across the room and muttered something. His hand started to glow a soft blue light as he started healing the woman's more serious injuries. The woman kept her eyes on him.
Up close, she could tell he was not a regular Jotun. He bore the marks of the royalty, though faint. He wasn't as muscular as many others there, but he was slightly taller. He also grew short raven-black hair. His ruby eyes looked up into her sapphires. They expressed peace to the blue orbs. The woman looked away, blush occurring beneath the dried blood on her face.
"What is your name" The Jotun asked. His voice was softer than a Jotun's, but bore the regal tone of royalty. The woman coughed, clearing her voice.
"Matilda Jenkins. Born, raised on Midgard. And, yours?" The Jotun's eyes widened. A puny Midgardian just killed over thirty Jotun by herself in mere minutes? And a female, no less?
"Dag Olenson, of Jotunheim. You are a far way from home. How did you get here? Who brought you here-" Matilda covered Dag's mouth with her bloody hand. She smiled at him.
"I am too weak to answer questions. D-Dag, can you..." She collapsed into his chest. Dag picked her up and placed her on the ground where it wasn't bloody. He called for healers to assess the damage around him. Then he returned his attention to the girl, Matilda.
She was resting, passed out. The gloves she wore earlier vanished in a cloud of black smoke. Dag coughed and waved his hand at the smoke to dissipate it faster. Her skin was turning paler by the second. Dag called for a healer to check on her immediately. The healer saw no reason for her to change, and so called in someone familiar with magic. Dag explained to this Jotun what was on MAtilda's hands and how she fought.
"Tis old magic. Very rare, blood of former ally turned enemy" The Jotun explained. Dag looked at Matilda, more questions forming in his head. This woman was a box of surprises, indeed.
"She turns like us. It's more than spell for her. Watch." Matilda's eyes squinted as her skin turned from the paleness it was to alabaster, then finally turning icy blue. Faint lines dissimilar to Dag's own marks flowed over whatever exposed skin she had. Dag felt her skin. It had turned as cold as the ice. The healer opened one of Matilda's eyes, only for Matilda to jump up and try to strangle her. Dag pulled Matilda off of the healer.
"No, she's good! Cease" he exclaimed. His head turned to the healer, "do not touch her in such a manner! She is the Queen of Jotunheim by battle! Show some respect!"
Many of the other healers in the room went still at Dag's words. That woman? Queen? She was not of Jotunheim, how could Dag, the rightful inheritor of the crown, proclaim her as Queen?
Matilda growled and tried to move Dag's hand, which was squeezing one of her breasts. She bit one of his fingers, getting him to move his hand. She looked up into Dag's eyes.
"Damned pervert."
"I, as Queen of Jotunheim, must have a King. That is why," Matilda slipped down off of her throne. Almost a hundred male Jotun were in the throne room with her, which made her feel very uneasy.
"You are all here. Only one of you shall become my King, but all of you are my suitors. Who wishes to make themselves a favorite in front of me right now?" She looked up at the males, who were all already kneeling. Dag rose and kneeled low enough to be of Matilda's height. He took her small hand within his own and kissed it.
"You look lovely today, my Queen." He looked into her eyes. Those eyes of which he would want to stare at and reveal all the truths and stories locked away in them. They filled with a moment of happiness.
"Thank you, Dag. I appoint you as the head of my personal guard." She bit into her finger and drew something on the right corner of his chest. He rose, nodded, and walked off to where the other guards were. She cleared her throat.
"Do you not see? I am but a simple woman who likes being complimented and adored. But that shan't not be why you are all here. I know many of your intentions. I shan't not marry a man who only seeks power. Leave my presence at once, all of you." They all nodded and filtered out through the front of the throne room. Matilda jumped onto her throne and sat in the pile of cushions.
Minutes later, Dag arrived in new armor. He decided to not wear the top half of his armor, but keep the bottom half. The bottom half was dark brown and made of leather and armor plating. Dag went a few steps farther and adorned the sides with rich fur pockets.
Matilda motioned him closer, and he obeyed. Matilda felt the fur,
"This is really nice. Turn." Dag obeyed, and received a slap on his backside. He heard MAtilda giggle and felt her small arms wrap around his neck.
"I wanted you here, anyways. You are already my favorite."