I’ve been wanting to write something with these two but I couldn’t think of what I wanted to do until now. 😈
As a reminder, I’ve discontinued my tag list. Please follow @synths-library and turn on notifcations. I’ll be reblogging my new content from there!
Dark! Thor x Black Female Reader and Dark! Steve Rogers x Black Female Reader (Anyone can read though!)
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. World building for now but this is a dark fic so I’m tagging it now. Casual mentions of forced marriage, abduction and threats in this chapter.
Summary | Post blip, Thor wields his power over New Asgard, a community that is protected by the Thunder God himself and his right hand, Steve Rogers. But all isn’t what it seems when an investigative reporter reveals the truth of what goes on inside the compound walls, leading Thor and Steve to bring her back to New Asgard so they can make her a believer.
With a shaky thumb, you press down on the recorder, leaning your head back on the headrest, closing your eyes for a moment. It burns, keeping your eyes closed like this for the moment. Sleep is a luxury you can’t afford at the moment, let alone stopping to record the message you aren’t sure if anyone will ever find if you’re caught.
“It’s a Sunday, I think,” you start, squinting to look at your broken watch. “Approximately three forty-eight in the afternoon. If you find this recording then you’ll know that I’m presumably dead. I say dead because there is no way in hell that I’ll be a part of that cult.”
You laugh at the thought. It had all gone so wrong and so fast that you’re not even sure how you’re still here.
“I’m on some godforsaken stretch of road, littered with cars. I’ve got half a tank of gas left and I don’t know where I’m going,” you continue with a bitter exhale. “Otherwise, I’m still here. If you find this, I’m the one who wrote that piece on the cult. New Asgard isn’t what you think it is and I stand by that. My journalistic integrity is intact, regardless what that God… Thor, thinks. My research led me to believe that he’s culling his followers.”
You reach forward, opening your bag to pluck out a bag of Doritos, frowning at the low supply of food you have left.
“I’ve been followed… stalked is probably a better word,” you continue, eyes flickering up to the rearview mirror. “By none other than Captain America himself. Who, as it turns out, is Thor’s right hand man. I’m not sure how I got away but I’m sure it won’t be too much longer until I’m found. Anyway, I wanted to record this to, I guess, make sure my side of the story is told. Half of New York has been taken over by a literal God and his followers are like sheep. My research tells me that he’s been looking to recreate Asgard and populate it. Those that have gone missing are at his compound. Married off to other men. I saw it before I realized I was being watched, which is why I’m still running today.”
You sigh, wiping your brow as you open up the last of your water, letting the drops dance on your tongue.
“If I’m around tomorrow, I’ll add more to this. Until then, I’m on Highway 68.”
With the soft click of the stop button, you toss it onto the passenger seat. It’s a habit to look in your rearview and side mirrors now, waiting for the motorcycle to come into view like it had before you’d revved the engine, breaking off a piece of the headlight in the process to get away from Captain America himself.
It was a fluke that you got away. A small game of cat and mouse as he sat in the middle of the road, saluting you before you drove away. A taunt that drove an icy hold on your heart when you realized you’d left your backpack near the compound, forever lost to the Captain and his God, Thor.
“You’re biding your time,” Steve greets Thor, still looking down at the people milling below him. “I assume you aren’t in a rush.”
Thor hangs Mjolnir on a hook, striding to the balcony to observe his people. The rebuilding has taken longer than it’s needed to, mostly due to an unwillingness to abide by his will, a fringe group of his followers causing dissidence in the ranks.
He didn’t enjoy showing his strength. Not in such a way that incited fear rather than a healthy respect. But a point needed to be made, their bodies stacked on the funeral pyre. Work had since sped up, Thor’s watchful eyes on the lumber that is being moved to the far end of the compound.
“Things are coming along nicely now,” Thor tells Steve with a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Which would not have been possible with you, Steven.”
Steve gives a short nod, his hands braced on the balcony as he continues to stare at the building taking place.
“She left something,” Steve informs him, motioning to the black bag to his left.
Thor picks up the bag, unzipping it as he rifles through the contents.
There was so much he knew just by what was inside of it. A folder with various papers, names and addresses of witnesses. He’d take those, have his men pay them a visit and find out what you were looking for. A change of clothes that he inhales, still smelling faintly of fabric softener.
He’d seen the look on your face the moment you knew you were being watched, eyes wide in surprise, your fingers letting go of the railing.
Most journalists, especially the flashy kind with the pristine white badges and color coordinated vans would camp out for days, waiting for him to come and address them. You simply slipped through their vans and expensive cameras and within days, had a story that infiltrated every news outlet, shining a light on his every move, including the re-population efforts and removal of the ones who dared to speak out against him.
Thor would not apologize for his actions. The blip had forced his hand after Ragnarok. He’d known loss. First his mother and then his father.
His people.
Then Loki and Heimdall.
If Midgard had ever needed a God to pray to, he would be the one to answer. It was all too simple when he finally had given it a thought, growing tired of trying to search for Thanos’ whereabouts that seemed to trigger him at every turn.
Protection was much easier when it was a controlled environment for the time being. Here, his people wanted for nothing and they were safe from the outside world, where the rest of the world had to fight for resources and rebuild from scratch.
He counted himself lucky that Steve was a soldier, ready to fight for his country.
The new country that he’d pledged to protect.
Midgardians are fickle, Thor had conluded, watching as the Avengers were critiqued for not keeping them safe. As if they hadn’t experienced loss themselves on land and in the sky.
“Are you letting her go?” Steve asks.
“No,” Thor responds. “Find her and bring her back here. She wanted an in-depth story, she’ll get a firsthand account.”
Thor meets Steve’s smile before he heads down the steps.
Anything you want is within reach. All you have to do is ask and it is yours.
And why wouldn’t it be?
The future heir of Asgard is growing inside you, safe and protected from this outside world.
A gift to Thor.
You want for nothing. You’ve done your duty.
Still, you find it easier to stay inside your room than to have appreciative eyes on your middle, waiting for the day they are born. You haven’t been out in the woods since the day Thor found you, forcing you to the ground as he did as he told you he would do. Your baby conceived amid the trees.
But you want your freedom.
Which is why when you enter his throne room, you clasp your hands together, the guards letting you enter. He’s been pleased with you ever since the physician had given him the news.
“My Queen,” Thor greets you warmly, motioning for you to take your seat across from him. You’re slow as you walk, head down before you reach your seat, lowering yourself down carefully.
The request that is on the tip of your tongue makes you nervous.
“Thor,” you begin softly, wringing your hands in your lap.
“Are you well? The physician has told me our heir is growing and healthy.”
“Yes,” you answer meekly. “A request, if you will allow.”
“What is it?”
“I wish to see my family.”
Thor’s eyes darken at your request, his mood changing immediately at your question.
“I am your family.”
“But my mother,” you protest, placing your hands on his forearm. “I would like her to see the baby. Please.”
“No traveling in your delicate condition,” Thor reminds you, smoothing down his beard for a moment. “Though the idea does have merit to have her come here.”
You shake your head at the thought.
“Heimdall will retrieve her. She will stay until our heir is born and should she want to stay after, she will be welcome here.”
That is as good of a bargain as you will get. He waits for your gracious thank you and you rush to give it to him.
“Thank you, husband,” you rush out quickly, bowing your head toward him as you carefully lift yourself up. Gravity is already against you. Thor’s steady hand guides you over to him, where you stand between his outstretched legs.
“I can be amicable, wife,” he tells you, his hands settling on either side of your growing belly. “You’ve made me proud. There is nothing I won’t do for you. But you and our little one need rest.”
With a short nod, you turn, his hands falling away from you while you head toward the doors that are beginning to open.
“My Queen?”
You pause, turning to look over your shoulder.
“Yes?”
“Have the servants prepare your mother a suite. She’ll be here a while.”
You swallow hard at his words. He means to keep her here just as long.
This is Dark! Thor x WOC! Oracle Reader and Dark! Loki x WOC! Oracle Reader.
Warnings: 18+ Forced marriage. Loki is truly up to no good.
Summary | Thor captures an Oracle, part of a religious cult that has foretold the death of the Allfather. The noble prince is given the task of her punishment but he begins to teeter into darkness as he seeks justice while battling his own desires. For every time he punishes her, he loses a bit of his power.
“What are you doing in Vanaheim? How did you pass Heimdall?” Thor demanded, his hands fisted at his sides.
Loki raised his hands in defeat.
“A simple task. We were just on our way to return to Asgard. Weren’t we, dear Oracle?”
You did not answer, furious and afraid at his treachery. Loki now knew where to find Runa and you did not underestimate that he would try to use her as leverage to spare his brother’s wrath. There was a touch of hopefulness as you noticed Thor’s hands were empty. You remembered Runa’s words. You had the power to take away his own.
“What simple task?”
You did not miss a beat as you blurted out your answer.
“I wished to see what was left of the temple.”
A half truth was better than a whole lie. Loki seemed to go along with your ploy, nodding in agreement.
“After what she has endured, I believed it would be best to take her here to see how her faith has been wiped out from this realm. I thought it would be a reminder to renounce her fanaticism.”
Your eyes studied the grass so that you would not stare at him while he told his blatant lie. Still, you had to be grateful to be given a chance to warn Runa. Loki had at least held his word to that point. Thor clenched his jaw at Loki's remark.
“She will never. We will return back to Asgard.”
“Wait.” Loki’s voice raised over Thor’s, straightening his jacket. “A proposition, if you will.”
“What is it?” Thor snapped.
“I cannot help but notice Mjolnir is not at your side. Do you no longer require it?”
Thor’s eyes darkened at his brother’s question. You found yourself shaking your head, hoping that Thor would not entertain his brother’s question. You were the cause of his loss of power and you wished not to incite more anger from him.
“I have been pained by many things. It does not give me the security I once knew.” He looked directly into your eyes as he spoke, fear spreading across your belly.
“That tool was made for you. For what good is a God without a hammer?”
“Loki, enough.” The demand held no room for argument.
“What if,” Loki continued on, ignoring his brother’s command. “You took the source of what is draining your power. Or should I say, who.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Marriage, dear brother.”
Your heart dropped to your toes, your heart slamming into your chest. There would be no way he would agree. No way you could see yourself in such a predicament.
“She may be disgraced but she is still of high born blood. Make her your wife. You will see that once you have her, as her visions have foretold, you will hold the power as you once did. Take a wench to your bed if the thought of her repulses you. But marriage could be the way to make sure you have eyes on her all the time.”
You knew by Thor's heated stare that he wouldn’t. Not now. Not with what he had seen of you and the things he had told you by the fire the night prior.
"Think of it. Father would be pleased once the initial shock wears off. It would be the ultimate retribution. An Oracle forced to yield to you and all of Asgard."
"I needn't be married for that," you spoke up, inching your chin up to meet Thor's gaze. "You've already forced me to yield to your demands. A marriage would not change that."
The look in Thor’s eyes made you fearful.
"Heimdall!" Thor shouted, looking up above. "Now!"
〰️
Odin watched you raise your head, the guards standing a few feet away from you, your wrists bound in chains in front of you. The moment you were back in Asgard, guards had arrested you, leaving Loki and Thor behind as you were marched back to Odin’s throne room.
“Do you know why you stand before me today?”
“To exact more cruelty at my expense,” you answered.
The room was quiet at your response, so silent you could hear your own heartbeat thudding inside your chest.
“Thor has set out to correct your path and yet I fear that you have not understood the severity of what you have unleashed. Even now, the Nine Realms is under uncertainty. My rule, once never questioned, has heard whispers of those who wish to know if these visions will come true.”
“You know that they will.” You stood your ground, unafraid of what he could do to you.
He surprised you with a faint smile upon his lips.
“Precisely. An Oracle with the power to see our enemies. The power you hold is strong. I see it now. Your vision, what was it?” Odin stroked his beard, a flash of teeth appearing as he smiled wider. “He will need to possess the sight entirely. You are that sight.”
“No.” Your breath shook with fear as you understood the weight of his words.
“Yes. Beholden to all of Asgard to make sure the Nine Realms are safe by way of marriage. The people of Asgard will not accept an Oracle without a title, one especially as the likes of you. With a royal bearing, you will make him a fine King. And in time, a father.”
“I will not.”
“You don’t have a choice!” Odin’s roar rang out, echoing and making you hold your breath. “Your father was high born, your mother as well, despite her catastrophic failings. You will put that lineage to good use. Take her away and begin preparations for the ceremony.”
There was no time to try to flee, the guards gripping your arms as they pulled you away, despite your fighting and screaming to whoever would hear that you would never do such a thing. Your loyalty did not lie with Asgard and it did not lie with Odin and certainly not Thor.
〰️
The comfort of your pillow also caught your tears, your wrists still sore from the heavy cuffs. The quietness of the room allowed for your shallow breaths, your fingers curled around your necklace.
You felt a presence in the room, your anger rising through your chest as you heard him speak.
“Poor little prophet. All alone in her room, crying for her mother.”
You sniffled, lifting your head to glare at the man sitting on the chair across from you.
“Get out,” you ordered, your voice still trembling.
Loki leaned forward, his eyes narrowing at you before he smirked.
“I came to make amends, dear Oracle. To apologize for my actions.”
“I don’t accept.”
You turned away from him, hoping he would take the hint and leave. Still, you felt him there, his eyes still on your figure.
“It was the only way to make sure you would cooperate. You have so much more power than you realize. Let me show you.”
“I don’t wish to be apart of your tricks.”
He sighed, his shoes shuffling against the ground. “Get up.”
You got to your feet, watching him walk toward the balcony. He seemed to stare intently at something that caught his eye, his fingers pointing across the way.
Behind him, you saw Thor’s balcony.
“Mjolnir sits, unattended. Pick it up.” He ordered it like it was a simple task and you narrowed your eyes at his command.
“There are guards everywhere. I can’t leave to do your chore.”
He turned to face you, determination apparent on his features. He cupped your chin with his fingers.
“You won’t have to. Hold out your hand and it will come. All you must do is think of it. Call it from your mind.”
“This is a trick,” you muttered, pulling away from him. “No one can yield it.”
“Try. I believe in you.”
Loki stood back, arms crossed while he waited for you to do his bidding.
With a heavy sigh, you stood, the weight of the world on your shoulders while you raised your arm, your fingers outstretched. Loki’s gaze turned to the balcony as you heard a low hum. In moments, the hammer soared through the air through the balcony and into your waiting hand.
At the sight of it, you nearly dropped it, your arm bending down and then back up. It was lightweight, your fingers wrapping over the handle.
A smile spread across Loki’s face at your surprised expression. One that turned to a cry of pain as a mark raised on your wrist. The hammer fell to the floor, cracking the stone while you cradled your injured hand.
“It appears marriage wasn’t the only way to bind you to him,” Loki purred. “Look how worthy you are, dear Oracle. Yielding your future husband’s weapon. Imagine how pleased he will be to know it can be moved after all."
This is Dark! Thor x WOC! Oracle Reader (Reader would have to be half black because she is the niece of Heimdall) and Dark! Loki x WOC! Oracle Reader.
Warnings: Some language, some sexual harassment.
Summary | Thor captures an Oracle, part of a religious cult that has foretold the death of the Allfather. The noble prince is given the task of her punishment but he begins to teeter into darkness as he seeks justice while battling his own desires. For every time he punishes her, he loses a bit of his power.
Your hand slid over your brow, wiping away the perspiration as you stood inside the crowded tavern. It was well into the night, your back aching with the repetitive motions. The heavy tray that was filled with ale seemed to always empty before you took more than a few steps outside the kitchens. It was entirely too loud for your liking, your ears accustomed to the quietness of the temple. The peacefulness had replaced with raucous laughter and bodies hitting the floor, ale fueling courage and loosening tongues for fights. The dress you wore was entirely too form fitting for your liking, the long, lustful stares of glassy eyed soldiers continued to make you uneasy. You had been at this for a few days, marched from your cell to the tavern and back again.
You lifted the tray overhead with shaky fingers, trying to maneuver your way through the cramped space. You placed a stein on the table as hands appeared out of nowhere, grabbing what steins remained on your tray. You sighed out of frustration, straightening up to fight your way back to the kitchens to all start over again. A hand slid over your backside, grabbing a handful of your flesh. You gasped in surprise, tray in your hand clattering to the floor while laughter followed at your expense.
Leaning down to snatch up the tray, a hard slap on your ass made you yelp in surprise, anger flooding your eyes as you looked back for the alleged attacker. More laughter ensued. You held the tray to your chest, storming away from the patrons and into the kitchens once more.
Slamming the tray on the table, you rubbed the sting away from your backside.
“Something the matter?” a voice purred behind you.
Thor stood against the door, arms crossed over his broad chest while he observed you. There was no kindness in his eyes, only the same amused glance as the soldiers who had humiliated you.
“This is barbaric,” you protested. “They are without control, their hands are everywhere.”
Judging by his raised eyebrow and knowing nod, you knew he had seen the entire scene. The thought made you furious, your hands reaching for another stein to fill with ale. You would not give him the satisfaction of seeing you upset. You filled more steins, feeling his eyes on you while you placed them on the tray. When you lifted it to head out the doors, he was gone.
You went through the doors to find that Thor had a captive audience while he held up his hand for silence. The music slowed to a stop, the tavern so quiet that you could hear your shoes scraping over the floor before you stopped in your tracks, trying not to make any additional noise.
“Might I remind you of your manners. Your new attendant does not take kindly to your advances.”
Heads turned to stare in your direction. Thor circled the air with his hand for the entertainment to resume, continuing on his way. He passed by you without a single glance.
Almost as if you didn’t exist.
〰️
You bowed your head in prayer, your ministrations emphatic while you begged for forgiveness for your thoughts of retaliation while in the tavern, the smell of ale still lingering on your fingers. Finishing your appeal, you laid in your cot, weary and wondering how long you would be expected to serve in such a place. You had learned to recognize the regulars and those who taunted you with insults that made you bite your tongue. The prince did not step foot inside the tavern, least not while you worked. You had said a prayer of gratitude for that fact. You had busied yourself with remembering your mother’s teachings, reciting her sermons in your head throughout the day. It brought you comfort, knowing that her visions would one day come true. All would be brought to light and there would be vindication.
A presence caught your attention, turning your body to see the visitor who had come to stare at you. His green eyes were like emeralds, a look of fascination upon his pale face. His dark hair seemed to blend into the darkness surrounding him. You knew he would find you, it had only been a matter of time. He would try to begin to tempt you like he had your mother once upon a time.
“Here lies the heretic,” he spoke. “Hidden away among the Gods like a dirty little secret.”
You would not entertain his comments, closing your eyes while you turned your back to him. Loki would not get an ounce of your attention.
“Do you know who I am?” he demanded. "Your mother certainly did."
“Trickster,” you answered. “You will not get an audience from me.”
You had heard of his history, his plot to take over the throne. Odin had dismissed the visions and expelled your mother from Asgard. There would be no speaking with such a traitor as Loki.
“Perhaps I could be of help to you, dear zealot. I have something you want.”
“I have no want for anything,” you responded to the wall.
“Is that so? Not even this?”
Against your better judgement, your curiosity was piqued and you turned back around as he held up your gold necklace. You knew it required a price to have it back in your possession. A man like him was not easily charitable. The longer you stared at the piece of jewelry, the more you longed to have it back.
“What a beautiful necklace. Arra always did have the best of everything. It is a pity she died with nothing.”
Your mind had been made up with his comment.
“I don’t want it,” you replied.
“Why not?”
“My mother’s memory resides in my heart and mind. Not in a piece of jewelry that could be bartered for something wicked.”
Loki chuckled, the gold necklace disappearing into thin air.
“My, my, my, you are a pious little thing. Very well. I’ll keep it for myself. I do believe you would be of use to me. There must be something I can interest you in. ”
“I doubt it.”
Your faith was strong. This test would make you not falter. Your mind wandered over the necklace once more and you pushed the thought away. The flesh was weak, but your mind was stronger. In time you would forget about your necklace and any emotions it seemed to hold over you.
“Not even a reprieve from toiling as a barmaid?”
You ignored him, watching the wall as you felt his presence fade.
〰️
Your stomach creaked with pangs of hunger. This was your penance, refusing the already meager breakfast that had been brought to you every morning. You survived off water alone and you were thirsty, hoping it would appease your appetite. The guard walked in, holding a breakfast tray in his hands as he placed it on the table. You reached for the glass of water when the guard cleared his throat.
“The Prince commands you to wait.”
You sat back in your chair, confused by the direction. Perhaps he wished to give you another task, away from the taverns. Your patience was wearing thin, working long hours with ungrateful patrons.
Thor arrived moments later, dismissing the guard with a wave of his hand. He looked down at your tray and back up to you. You picked up the glass of water, drinking it quickly before you placed it back down on the tray, half full.
“The guards tell me you do not eat. Does our food offend you as well?”
“Water is enough.”
“It isn’t. You will eat.”
He stacked his arms on the small table, waiting for you to obey his command. The eggs and sliced fruit sat untouched while you tried to ignore the desire to take a bite. You took a sip of water instead. Thor narrowed his eyes at your insolence.
“We searched Vanaheim for what was left of your mother's followers. They have been eradicated and your mother’s temple burned to the ground. I know there are others out there, hiding away in the other realms. Arra's teachings are a cancer. Her beliefs put Asgard and my family at risk. Surely you know that. You were Asgardian before you were a Vanir. You have forsaken your own people to follow in her footsteps. She cannot foretell the Allfather’s death. No one can. To even discuss it is blasphemy.”
“She saw more than you will ever realize. There was more than the death of the Allfather she had seen. Worlds ambushed, regicide committed without fear of retaliation, she saw all. It was her fate to see the future," you lobbied back. You would continue to protect her worth, even if Thor refused to see it.
“And she died for her sins against the throne,” Thor snapped, his fist pounding on the table. The tray shook with the force, the water sloshing up the rim of the glass. “You will not continue on her path. I forbid it."
“I will finish her work. It is what I am destined to do.”
“You will preach to unwilling ears. My father would see you dead if it was up to him. You are my responsibility. You should be grateful I am giving you a chance at salvation.”
“Grateful to be a tavern maid where I am looked upon with lustful stares in drunken eyes? That punishment only makes me pray harder for their souls and for Odin to see what his people have become under his rule.”
Thor stood up from the table abruptly, the chair falling backwards as he placed his hands on the table, leaning down to look at you.
“Perhaps you're right. I will think of a way to put an end to your fanatical thinking.”
I wrote this fic back in July and I’ve been sitting on it for so long. Suddenly got inspired again and here we are. There are nine chapters written already on AO3 and I’m slowly starting on the tenth.
I have so many series in the works, I know. But this one is as close to canon I will ever get in regards to Asgard and I struggle with fantasy-esque ideas because I feel like I can’t write them well. So, I will upload these chapters every few days. It’s really hard for me to write Thor (he’s such a strong goofball to me), so I’m challenging myself.
gif by @tomhiddleston-loki
This is Dark! Thor x WOC! Oracle Reader (Reader would have to be half black because she is the niece of Heimdall) and Dark! Loki x WOC! Oracle Reader.
Warnings: None yet but it will get murky later.
Summary | Thor captures an Oracle, part of a religious cult that has foretold the death of the Allfather. The noble prince is given the task of her punishment but he begins to teeter into darkness as he seeks justice while battling his own desires. For every time he punishes her, he loses a bit of his power.
⚡️ - @caffiend-queen (who was my biggest fan of me finishing this fic) @jevans2 @river-soul @liquorlaughslove
The ground roiled under your feet, the walls of the small temple shaking in the aftermath of an explosion nearby. Shrill screams permeated the air as fear took hold, the attendants climbing over each other to flee. How quickly they disregarded your mother’s prophecy. This had been part of her vision. The once proud priestess laid dead at your feet, the wound in her chest spreading over her robes. Felled by her own servant in a vain attempt to save their own life. You did not mourn her. She had built you up to withstand the burden of what you now would accomplish. With her death, you would continue on the path she set forth.
Swords unsheathed in the darkness, footsteps crunching over the rubble. The pillar hid you well from the marauders, though they were not the ones you expected. These were Asgardians, known for their stealth and ferocity. They searched through the temple with precision, checking the bodies to any signs of life. This was not a compassionate quest. A plea of forgiveness was whispered near your vicinity, silenced by a sword sliced into flesh. There would be no salvation from your attackers. They sought to eradicate everything you knew.
A torch illuminated a small space, where your mother's body lay on her side. A red cape pooled on the ground as a man knelt near her body. You knew him by the hammer he held in his hand. The Asgardian prince was bigger than you had thought, almost a giant in the flesh. Footsteps approached, more of his associates joining him. You recognized Hogun from your village and anger ripped through your chest. You knew he had brought them here.
“Find the daughter,” the prince commanded. “I will not return to Asgard empty handed.”
A fate worse than death awaited you should you be found. The prince had not been part of your mother's vision and dread began to set in. Your fingers gripped the dagger tighter, drawing it up toward your chest. Your lips moved silently in fervent prayer to the Gods, asking for forgiveness yourself before you thrust your soul into their waiting arms. A gloved hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you to the ground, the dagger falling from your hands. It clattered on the stone and slid away from view. A foot pressed down your back, keeping you immobile. Your heart raced with fear of the unknown, made worse by the man who now looked down on you. The prince’s eyes seemed to glitter under the soft light, his boot lodged between your shoulder blades. There was unbridled hatred in his stare before he pulled his eyes away from you.
“Bring the bonds,” he ordered. “Bound her mouth as well. I wish not to hear a word this heretic has to say.”
〰️
You held your head high as you were marched through the city. Your once white robes were torn, smudged with soot and dirt. The jewelry adoring your neck and arms twisted and broken. They could not break your spirit and you continued to pray amid the jeers of the crowds, who were hungry for your punishment. You were pushed forward roughly, Hogun giving you no time to slow your weary feet.
“Faster, traitor,” Hogun snapped. “Retribution is at hand.”
Down the steps you went, the golden throne room in your sights. You did not find it breath taking as it had been boasted by those who spun tales of Odin’s throne. It was decadent, meant to show off the spoils of war, hiding the crimes that you knew Odin had committed. The bonds dug into your wrists as hands gripped your arms, forcing you forward before the steps, the heavy restraint removed from your mouth. Prince Thor’s voice broke through the silence, amid the guards who stood watch over you.
“Do you not kneel in front of a king?”
Your eyes followed up the golden steps and to the king that sat upon the throne. The one your mother had seen in her visions. Odin leaned forward, grasping his staff while he observed you. His gaze was meant to intimidate, the horned helmet upon his head a signal of strength. Deep creases in his face had showed his weathered age but you knew his mind was sharp.
“I bow to no king,” you answered, your voice echoing with your refusal. “They are but men.”
“Then you will kneel for a God,” Thor commanded.
You were forced to your knees, strong hands upon your shoulders to keep you from standing. It was compliance but by force. Odin held up his hand, lifting from the throne and heading down the steps. Your knees throbbed with pain but you did not falter, your expression set with determination. Odin reached you, his armor shining in the lights.
“Your mother lies dead in a fallen temple. All of her followers dead. Except you. What cruelty the Gods must have if they would not allow you to be with her?” Odin asked you, amusement in his voice.
“Your soldiers took my choice.” You shook, not with fear, but of rage.
“Ah, so they did. They are loyal to the throne. Your mother taught hatred of this very throne that we stand upon.”
“Not of the throne but who sits upon it. A warning.”
“Heresy!” Odin shouted in your face, his veins protruding with his anger. “Sharing visions of my death. Inviting all of the Nine Realms to challenge me. You, her willing pupil, would have continued her destructive path if not for my son's intervention.”
“What is to be my punishment?” you asked, the anger bubbling inside you.
“It shall not be up to me,” Odin answered. “To the victor go the spoils. My son shall decide your fate.”
〰️
All that remained on your body was your thin slip, your robes ripped away by angry guards who took their frustration out on you with every rip of fabric. Your jewelry was swept away, the gold adornments in your hair pulled from the roots. Left with nothing but your thoughts, locked away in a cell per Thor’s order. You’d protested as the gold necklace had been broken away from your neck, the sole reminder of your mother. The taunts that followed had been particularly cruel, the crass remarks about your mother did little but entice you to pray for patience. They would pay for their viciousness in time.
Heavy steps approaching made you lift your head in curiosity. The prince stood at the front of your gilded prison cell, his features twisted in ire. His feelings mattered not to you. Regardless of your fate that was in his hands, your absolution was left up to a higher power.
“You come from noble blood, yet you cling to your traitor of a mother and her foul teachings,” Thor raged. “I will break you of your ill-gotten beliefs.”
“My faith is strong. I will not be broken.” You were resolute, unafraid of his threat.
“Perhaps not in the way you may think. Tomorrow you will begin your new position in the tavern. You will serve the patrons ale. Without complaint.”
“I will not,” you refused. “Spirits make the mind warped and cruel.”
“You are not below serving others, you pious little gnat. Be warned. If I hear word of your insolence, I will kill you myself.”
