Closed Starter | One Deed
@you-will-kneel
It was eerily quiet this time of night. I had never noticed this, considering it was rare that I was awake at such an hour, and if I was, usually others were, too, partaking in alcohol and conversations and dances...
There was no merrymaking tonight.
The entirety of Asgard was deep in mourning, recovering from wounds just freshly dealt. Some lost those close to them; I thought to the guards who had lost their lives today, but everyone had lost a queen...
Wiping a stray tear away from my chapped cheek, I rose from the edge of my bed, moving over to the mahogany armoire in the corner of my bedroom. I searched through it for a moment before pulling out a dark cloak, one I often used when we were hunting in the nearby forest for game. I clasped it around my neck, the fabric covering the length of the light yellow nightgown I had worn just in case I was stopped in the hall.
It would not be so strange for me to be wandering at night, considering I suffered from the occasional nightmare brought on by memories of battles past fought. No one would notice it was a little later than usual, and I knew the guard’s posts like the back of my hand.
I wasn’t too worried about getting caught.
Slowly, I crept from my room, peaking out around the corner to see if anyone was near. The guard that usually stood outside my room was busily talking to a maid, one who had snuck up from her quarters, no doubt. It was forbidden, such relationships between guards and servants, but I was not about to rat them out when I was also going against Odin’s wishes.
The stairs to the dungeon were in the north tower, not too far from my quarters, luckily. I made it there, occasionally hiding from the wandering guard by rushing behind a nearby column or keeping within the shadow of an alcove, and descended it carefully.
Now, came the tricky part. I knew for a fact that the guard in charge of the dungeon at this time tended to fall asleep at his post, but, if for some reason, he was not...I would have to resort to knocking him out, something I would prefer not to do.
As I neared the bottom, I heard his loud snores, a smile overcoming my face. Slipping past him was a piece of cake, and while I should have been a bit concerned by his lack of attention, considering who was housed here, I was grateful for it in this case.
With measured steps, I approached the cell where my target was held, where the dark-haired prince was kept for his crimes.
