Sorry for taking so long my lovelies! But Here's chapter four! If you pay attention to the names there is an easter egg of sorts...
I own nothing, but Chris Evans may or may not be in my basement right now. *muffled manly scream* Well, if you will excuse me, I need to attend to that... Go ahead to the story!
"The World Tree holds all of the realms known to god and man alike. But, there are worlds that float between the realms. Worlds, still unknown to most. My birthplace was one of them. Glemdaud, Land of the Dead and Forgotten.
"Glemdaud had once been a mighty realm. It's people used to stand next to the great Asgardians in battle-"
"I remember Father telling stories about this." Thor interrupted (f/n). "Glemdaud was indeed mighty, so much so that the other eight realms were frightened and all waged battle on it. It was destroyed in one day, and ten realms became nine."
"You are mostly correct. The other eight realms did wage battle on us, but we were not completely destroyed. Our people lived on, hiding in plain sight from those who wished us ill. After years of mixing with the outsiders we had once called friends, one man was able to find a way to our lost and forgotten realm.
"The man who led us home, became royal to us. His rule lasted for some time. Durring, he was kind to his subjects. Days became years, and years into a decade. His rule looked as if to have no end. The thought brought comfort to the people. Sadly even the righteous fall. On a day dark, and forbidding, a man with raven hair, dressed in green and gold came to take what little our world had."
Before anyone could object, (f/n) reached out with the power given to her with her mother's last breath. A yellow light streamed from her mind, to every other being in the room connecting them.
"Oh no Vana, that won't do at all!" (f/n) looked down at herself. Her handmaiden had picked out a pure white dress. "Today is my birthday and I want to wear color!" The ten year-old walked over to her large wardrobe and pointed at a dress. "May I wear this one instead?" The garment was a deep magenta and fell just past the knees. Over the arms was lace sleeves that held a rose pattern. "Oh may I please Vana?" The old woman looked down at the girl she had come to treat as her daughter. The little one's birth mother had died not long after giving birth, leaving Vana to take care of her. Her father would do so instead, but he sat atop the throne and had little time for his daughter although was at her side whenever possible. "I don't see why not!" Vana happily helped (f/n) into the dress. Walking over to the jewelry chest, Vana got out a gold tiara and put it in the birthday girl's hair. She also put matching bracelets on her wrists and a gold ring with an emerald stone that's bright color moved like smoke trapped in a bottle. "What's this Vana? I've never seen this ring before." Looking at the stone, Vana's ever-present confidence seemed to falter. "It's um, it was a friend of mine's. Someone I would take care of before you were born." The not complete lie was good enough for the naive child. "Now," Vana said as she put shoes on (f/n) "go and find your Father, ok? I'm sure he can't wait to see you!" Squealing, the now ten year-old ran down the hall like a magenta streak.
When (f/n) got to the throne room, she stopped in front of the door to compose herself. With a quick movement she opened the large door. Or at least, she tried to. The door was much too heavy for a ten year-old to open without help. It was then that she noticed that the guards posted at either side of the door were slumped against the wall with closed eyes and still chests. Being young and not knowing much of the world, (f/n) just guessed that her older brother Svart was playing a trick on her. She wasn't about to let that ruin her day. So, she instead went to the much smaller and lighter door that led to just behind the throne. The only people that knew of it were her, her 15 year-old brother Svart, and her father, King Jotun. So she slipped through the doorway and closed it quietly. Quietly giggling, she peeked around the edge of the golden seat and was met with an unfamiliar and frightening sight.
Her father was kneeling before an unknown evil that sat upon the throne. His face was slightly bloodied, as was his left arm that hung limply to his side. His once proud composure was slumped, with his golden wings draped across the floor behind him instead of held strong behind his back. There was a guard on either side of him, both pointing a spear at his throat. But there was something else amiss about the two men. Both of them had unnaturally pale skin that held a blue tint. Their eyes were also frosted over with the same blue. To one side of the trio, was a figure, surrounded by a deep red pool. Grey eyes the were once bright as the moon, were now dull, and turned upward. Short and curly ginger hair was a deeper red where it met the pool. One green wing was twisted painfully while the other was on the other side of the king. The light showed a single tear that had fallen down the boy's beautiful face. Svart had been lost moments before his little sister arrived.
(f/n) knew that she should keep her mouth shut. Stay quiet and go get help. But upon seeing her brother, floating in a pool of death, she couldn't. She let out an ear-piercing scream and ran to her brother, only to be caught by a third guard. She kicked, and screamed, and fought against her captor to no avail. She was much too young and week to break free. She didn't care. She kept struggling until a cold hand lifted her face while another stopped her movements. She silenced herself as she was forced to look up. Right into the face of a raven-haired man. "Shhh. It's okay little one." He wiped away one of her tears. "Your brother is just sleeping. He was very tired. So is your Father and if you're too loud he won't be able to sleep!" (f/n) didn't know why, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the man. Because of the major height difference, the man had to kneel on the floor. He wore a black suit with green highlights and anywhere metal was gold. Including the piece that held his emerald cape. His eyes were the same emerald green and popped against his raven black hair. Atop his head sat a golden crown with horns that curved behind him. "(f/n)! No! Run child! Get away from here!" Her eyes finally moved once she heard her father's cry. She looked over just in time to see the two guards silt her father's neck, then take his head clean off. Before she could scream, (f/n)'s eyes were guided towards the tall man again. "Tsk tsk. I didn't want you to see that little one. Now," he got up from his kneeling position on the floor. "It's time to go." Too numb to do anything, the now orphan let the man lead her out of the palace, and into his ship.
~ timeskip ~
Once the ship had landed, the man who had introduced himself as Trickster guided the much younger girl out off the ship. As soon as the two were off, the vessel took off, leaving the two alone in a cave overlooking a lake. Trickster spoke before (f/n) could. "This won't do." he said, looking her over. "No, this won't do at all. I can change it though." An icy blue energy swirled around a now outstretched hand. The ball of ice then flew threw the air and enveloped the child in frost. Trickster watched as she changed. She grew up and out, her thought process changed and matured. She was being modeled by magic into how Trickster wanted her.
(f/n) screamed as she felt like she was being ripped to shreds by a frozen knife. She couldn't tell when she went from thinking like a child, to thinking like a woman. All she knew was pain and a deep coldness.
All of the sudden she was watching herself from Trickster's eyes. Her body had also changed from that of a child, to that of a woman. Her body had taken on an hourglass figure, and her hair now reached and exceeded the floor of the cave, as if it hadn't been cut in years. Although her mind was not currently there, the screams of pain still resonated in the small space.
Her wings unfurled from her back, to their full length of sixteen feet. Beautiful (f/c) feathers shined in the pale light the magic created. Muscles stretched as the wings reached as far as they could. As the elegant limbs started to retract, (f/n) was slammed back into her body where she could feel her pain. This time however, the pain was not general. It was only targeting her wings. Moving her newly formed body for the first time, the (h/c) haired woman turned around to see that her wings were starting to freeze. "N-No." She looked back at the man with terror in her eyes, only to see that he was grinning. "Don't worry my dear. The pain won't last much longer. And my name's not 'Trickster'. It's Loki." Before (f/n) could reply, Loki sent a cloud of ice down her throat. Slowly, it froze her from the inside out, turning her into an ice sculpture full of fear, and beauty.
