{ plotted starter for @thefateofwar -- Kratos and Faye }
♔—- War raged on throughout Yggdrasil. The Aesir and the Vanir fought violently against one another, though any who could see the war free of Asgard’s corrupted viewpoints understood that it was through no real fault of Vanaheim. Odin stood as a precursor to all that followed, a tyrant who forced and bent the wills and hands of millions and those who did not agree were quickly slaughtered.
The bloodshed quickly spread to many of the realms, which left the woman with little choice but to protect her own. The Jötnar suffered greatly at the hands of the Aesir as they refused to bend the knee and join the Gods new conquest for domination. Asgard sought to destroy them so thoroughly and leave them with no way to fight back that they even stole a powerful, ancient relic from her people.
The Casket of Ancient Winters, by many, was viewed as little more than a weapon, something that could send entire realms into an eternal ice age that would likely kill less powerful beings. For Jötunheim, though, it was a way of life, a source that kept their realm healthy and powerful. Without it, her people whithered away, afraid to have more children for fear of what would happen to them.
Laufey had no children, but she was regarded as one of the most powerful among them, gifted with many forms of Seidr that gave her an advantage in battle and preparation for the future. Fierce in battle but kind in heart, she stood as a delicate balance of both one to be feared and one to turn to in times of great struggle.
The realm knew she would make a marvelous queen, but she was not yet ready to take up the mantle that would eventually be passed down to her. So much needed to be done and if she had been tied to a throne, she would not have the freedom to roam as her tasks required of her. Many begged her to stay, to reconsider any sort of departure, to sit on the throne where they could protect her, but she refused that request, insisting that she would act as their protector, not the other way around.
Once Jötunheim stood safely amongst the realms of Yggdrasil and her path secured, then she would return and take up the burden that had loomed over her for so many eons.
Leaving her own behind hadn’t been easy. She prepared herself emotionally, spiritually, and physically for the departure, but she never could have been ready for how it felt to leave her home on her own. Even though her quest stood as a noble one and she knew without her efforts, her people would not endure, parting ways hit her in the chest with vicious intensity. Heartbreak along with a crippling fear that she may never see her home again nearly convinced her not to go, but if she ever hoped to take up the crown and call herself Queen, she had to protect those she would rule first. If she could not do that, then she was not worthy of such a role.
Whether she truly wanted said role was another story entirely. Without a doubt, she would be the most prepared she or any other person could be, but that did not mean she wished to rule or lead. If and when the time came, she would take her place on the throne of Jötunheim, but for the good of her people, not for her own personal desire or quest for power.
With that in mind, she took nothing but a small, worn travel sack and an axe with her to Midgard.
Upon arrival, she took great care in keeping her presence there unknown, even taking the form of a beautiful, young mortal-passing woman rather than the much larger form most common to her. She roamed, getting a feel for the land as well as decerning the best place for her to stop and make a home, however temporary or permanent that might be.
She held no fear in sleeping under the stars with little in the way of shelter. Jotun were built to endure the harshest of winters and she barely felt a thing when trapped by the snow or harsh winds or rain. So long as she could build a fire and hunt, she would endure, which is exactly what she settled in to do on the night that she met him.
A day of hunting produced a wild boar and a few rabbits. It was true, her appetite ranged far wider than that of a simple mortal woman and she held no reason to modesty when she traveled on her own. The kills would provide her enough meat to last a few days at least and would allow her to travel lightly without worrying about what she would be eating the next day. Their pelts would also prove to be useful for armor and clothing and the woman was nothing short of crafty.
As the setting sun dipped behind the snow-covered mountains, she conjured a flame that flickered a brilliant mix of emerald and sapphire before cooling to warmer and more natural tones of orange and yellow. The scent of roasting meat filled the air. Protective enchantments surrounded her campsite, so no unwanted guest--human, animal, or otherwise--would pass through undetected. Extreme, perhaps, but with Odin himself wishing for her death, she couldn’t afford to be too careful.
The flames died down as the woman ate and laid her head to rest on her pack, magic keeping them alive enough to produce a small amount of warmth and light without the risk of drawing too much attention. She’d only just nodded off when a violent shiver shot up her spin. One of her wards had been disturbed and she sat upright, eyes alert and bright in search of who or what might have trespassed into her temporary sanctuary.
In a second, she called her weapon to her, a large axe carefully crafted with fine metalwork and etchings along the blade itself as well as the long neck. Rather than lung at the man who neared her--and he was quite easy to see even in the dim lighting given his massive size. He wasn’t mortal, that she could say with certainty, but she wasn’t quite sure what she could call him--she leapt up with quick, elegant agility and dragged the head of her weapon through the snow she rested herself upon. Cool, white sparkles illuminated by the dying fire flared up, but a powerful burst of magic radiated through the ground towards the giant, effortlessly sending him flying.
The irony of thinking him a giant was not lost on her. Oh, how she would laugh on that later. Mortals were so tiny and she still hadn’t grown used to this small, delicate-appearance she’s taken up purely so eyes would not turn upon her and know immediately who she was.
With him temporarily off his feet, she advanced, quick and graceful despite the size of the weapon she pulled along with her, prepared to swing at any sign of violent intent. Killing never came as something she enjoyed, but she long since accepted that it was a harsh reality of survival. With war flaring up all around the Nine Realms, without a willingness to take another’s life, you would not live to see tomorrow and if you died, those who relied on you would soon follow.
“State your name and your business,” she ordered, the soft voice booming with intense sternness that she would come to find rivaled the man before her. “And I advise you to do so quickly if you wish to keep your head attached to your shoulders. Most friendly travelers offer friendly greeting before sneaking their way into someone else’s camp."
As far as she was concerned, she’d offered him extreme kindness in not harming him further. Many in her position would not offer him a chance to explain himself, choosing instead of strike quickly and ensure their own safety. It saddened her that the worlds operated in such a fashion, but she understood the reason.
Still, she could not bring herself to show cruelty in the face of her own safety. She could defend herself, so it did her no harm to give him a chance.
“What do you want?”
