𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 • 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐟𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧

Two

Chatter echoed between grand pillars which support lavishly, oil detailed ceilings, the gold ornate framework boasting excess wealth. Below, a large oak table seats hundreds of previously milling people, illuminated by the amber glow of sparse candles, all sharing indistinct chatter. Every so often, a chorus of laughter breaks out among the several self-divided groups, radiating through the air and reaching each end of the table. Sitting before them, a myriad of plates, all hosting space for an assortment of cuisine.

Observing from the end of the stately, dark oak table, was Odin, sporting a familiar gold chest plate, which greatly highlighted the gold crested eye covering, just below the thick scar which ran through a sparse left eyebrow. The man always seemed to have a painfully straight spine, due to holding wide shoulders as far back as possible, seemingly to exude confidence and establish dominance. Outwardly never relaxed in the company of anyone.

Watchful eyes scanned those in his presence, picking up on miscellaneous chat. One great hand clutching the rough beer jar, whilst the other occupied itself, gripping the worn armchair, only rotating every so often to acknowledge the many women presenting him with food.

The man's body encompassed a host of scars. All evidence of extensive journeys through the nine realms. Each thick, jagged marking a tally for a life taken. Odin frequently wore attire which revealed as many scars as possible, disrespectfully gloating over his murders, retelling the tales of those fallen at the hands of the God. 

Unknown to many, the man was not a great warrior, instead preying on the weak. Greediness often overcame him, a constant need for more. However, greed was not Odin's fatal flaw- instead the fear that swaddled hidden emotions, fear which prevented sleep, causing  a compulsion for control. 

In the beginning, Odin sought only for peace throughout the nine realms, seeking a diplomatic relationship between. Yet it was all too easy. Witnessing the willingness to conform caused a growing ambition- ambition to expand. To conquer. 

It was not violent- at first- many were inclined to succumb to Asgardian rule. Nonetheless pockets of resistance initiated. Overtime Odin resorted to swiftly putting them down. Washing bloody hands of responsibility and continuing on to vanquish any rivals.

Need grew, as did insecurity. Slaughterings became increasingly common, it was no longer a choice to live under Asgardian rule.

The man admired his wide dominion, whilst still being apprehensive of loosing authority.

To his left, Vera sat quietly. The girl was often discouraged from engaging with others at social gatherings. Instead ordered to sit complacently by the side of Odin, closest under his watchful eye.

To others, Vera seemed socially inept. Often spectating formal conversations, only speaking when spoken to. Instead, Odin's figurehead loomed over the young woman. Control cultivated so deeply that she refrained from interacting with unfamiliar people. However this is another demonstration of Odin's flaw. The man restrained her socially, disabling her from forging connections. Odin could not allow the young woman to begin thinking for herself. That way, the restraints of his authority would be slackened. 

Deciding to take an intermission from scrunching at the ends of her hair, supple fingers tangled into her silky attire. Ivory slip providing perfect occupation for nervous, fingers, which sought dwelling. Letting heavy shoulders slump, whilst she mindlessly stared into her lap. The young woman often wished to participate with the festivities- even just conversing with others. Instead being forced to resolve to mentally joining in, making jokes to herself and trying to keep a straight face when a joke was particularly amusing.

The palatial door opposed to Odin breeze open, allowing access for countless servants to file in, each carrying delicate china and cutlery. Quietly moving across the space, the china is presented from the head down. A meek pair of hands placing the porcelain before Odin, only to be dismissed without thanks. On his flank an articulately designed plate is thrust before the young woman, followed by the sharp ring of cutlery being discarded on the table either side of the plate, its transferee storming away before any thanks could be given.