Loki's Daughter, Mortem and Mischief

Chapter Twenty Two

"Wake up, your highness," a maid's voice cooed as light flooded my room. Instantly, the sound of a dozen feet shuffled in as window upon window was opened. Accosted with sunshine, I groaned, pulling my sheets far over my head.

No, no, no, no, no, I thought to myself as I hid from the light. I did not want to get up for the life of me. I was absolutely dreading the day to come and I could already feel the massive pit forming in my stomach. The last three days had been an absolute waste and before I even knew it, my coronation day had arrived. With my domineering father watching my every move, I found myself entirely unable to search for the TemPad. And with no word from Sylvie, I was certain that she hadn't found the device either.

The night before my coronation, I hardly slept a wink. All night long, I was tossing and turning as anxiety clouded my mind. I found myself absolutely terrified of the unknown. I sat awake wondering if I would ever be able to fix this reality, to mesh it with my own. I hardly knew if this was even possible or if the world I once knew still even existed. And even if it were possible, how could I even do it? Ending up here in the first place was a complete accident. I had never intended to change reality in this way, it just sort of...happened after I killed Hela. If I could even get ahold of the TemPad, I doubted that I could truly do what I needed to, even with Sylvie's aid.

With these thoughts spinning around in my mind, a new question came up. Was this world truly in need of fixing?  Perhaps everything could be remedied normally. My father had changed once, I was sure he could change again. If I could somehow show him the weight of his actions, maybe I could bring back the man I knew. And thus, he could be my confidant once again. Regarding my mother, I was sure her heartbreak could be spared. She was strong, understanding, and just as loving as I remembered. I was sure she would be willing to work through my father's...shortcomings. And if not, then one small secret wouldn't hurt her. At least that was what I was telling myself.

I was sure there was capacity for good in this world. There had to be. For one, I was one powerful Goddess. Despite the horrors of Thanos, there was no denying that I was endlessly accomplished. I was war monger, sure, but at least I was a damn good one. Additionally, it's not as if I personally had killed a third of the universe. I was just a child following orders, I couldn't be blamed for that.

And secondly, there was Grimnir. He seemed to be this timeline's saving grace. He was kind beyond belief, soft and truly understanding. I felt more than comfortable with Grimnir too, like I could spend ho urs upon hours at his side and never get sick of him. But the more I thought about him, the more panicked I became. If I were to proceed with trying to merge timelines, to fix the catastrophes here, I was not entirely sure that Grimnir would be saved. Messing with time had proven to not be a foolproof endeavor and I didn't know if I could risk losing Grimnir in the process.

I felt helpless with no plan and nowhere to turn. I couldn't make this decision for myself.

"My dear," my mother's voice sounded from the foot of my bed as she pulled away my covers, "You must get up, you have a very busy day ahead of you."

"I'm up, I'm up," I sighed, rubbing my eyes as I sat up.

"Well, happy birthday my love," she said warmly, smiling from ear to ear, "I can't believe that my girl is now seventeen."

"And she's going to be crowned Queen today," a nursemaid added.

"That she is," my mother mused with a sigh. She seemed altogether less excited about that aspect of my birthday. My mother had never been one to obsess over royalty, to see her status or my father's as a fuss. I suppose that was just one of the many reasons she was so popular within our kingdom. She didn't act better than anyone, my mother was consistently kind and hardworking even after she gained the titles of Queen Dowager or even Loki's Wife. I often wished this attitude was instilled heavier within me before she passed. I felt now that I had become too much like my father and that was precisely what landed me in this mess.

"You didn't sleep at all did you?" My mother said, coming to bedside with a cup and saucer, "Here, drink this. It'll make you feel better."

"What is it?" I asked as I looked into the cup full of a murky blue tea.

"Just a simple brew with mugwort, eye of newt, and matte," she explained in all seriousness, "Should calm any nerves and wake you up a bit."

I shrugged and began to sip at it. The eye of newt was a bit strange but if my mother said it would help, who was I to question her?

"Drink it up," she said, tipping up my cup, "We have much to do and very little time. Of course we must start with getting your hair brushed out, then dressing, then hair, then final touches. Because it's so incredibly and unfortunately tedious, that alone will take four hours. Then, I must get ready, make sure your father isn't throwing a fit of any kind. And oh by the way, your father has altogether demanded you two meet before your coronation ceremony begins. It's a mentoring thing, I'm not sure really. Sound good?"

I blinked as I took it all in, gulping down my last sip of tea.

"Yes, um, yes, that sounds fine," I stammered.

"Perfect," my mother said happily as she took away my cup and saucer, "Shall we begin?"

I took a deep breath and nodded. Instantly, I was pulled out of bed by nursemaids and attacked with brushes and combs. They pulled at my hair ferociously, brushing out each and every knot.

My mom was only speaking the truth when she had said getting my dressed would be a four hour event. The entire ordeal was a flurry of pulling my hair, twisting it into braids, tying a corset as tight as possible, adorning me in jewelry, and much more. I felt exhausted just watching the nurse maids work around me.

At the beginning of the day, I had been little more than a zombie. The insomnia was clear as day. My hair was a rats nest and my eye bags practically fell to the floor. But my nursemaids had managed to make a work of art out of me.

Just as the nursemaids were finishing up, a block sounded against the door.

"Come in!" I chimed and to my surprise, in walked Sylvie.

"May we have a moment?" I asked just as I was finished getting dressed, with a nod all of the nursemaids fled. Within a few short moments, Sylvie and I were left alone.

"Hi there," she said, slowly walking towards me, "You look nice."

"Thank you," I sighed as I smoothed out my skirt, "I'm sure you're not here just to compliment me though, are you?"

She shook her head and smiled, "No. I'm actually her to inform you of my plan."

"Sylvie, I'm not sure I-" I began before she swiftly cut me off.

"Just listen," she said firmly, "I need you to kill your father."