Loki's Daughter, Mortem and Mischief

Chapter Fifty Three

"This is unfair," I grumbled as I walked with my father to the gardens. My face was red hot with fury, my blood hadn't stopped boiling since that morning. Marriage. And without my consent no less. This was absolutely atrocious in every way and I was sure that this was all punishment for something.

"It's simply your duty as queen. Don't take it so personally," he chided as he walked at my side. "You look beautiful by the way," he added with a small smile. I rolled my eyes before suffering the most sour smile I could manage. I had been done up into a perfect porcelain doll, wearing pink silk and dainty frills-dammit, I even had to wear heels. Not only that, but my hair had been curled into oblivion and my face had been attacked with more makeup than I could bear. It was torture.

"You didn't have suitors, why should I?" I asked as I tried to rub off as much powder and makeup that I could. "If I recall correctly from my time in the TVA, I didn't have suitors because I was imprisoned. Asides from that, I wasn't the crown prince. The wife or husband I took didn't matter too much as I had no duty to produce an heir," he explained as we came upon the garden gates.

I wanted to argue, try to wiggle my way out of this but just as I opened my mouth-I saw my first suitor. There he stood, right by the hydrangeas, practically blending in with the gorgeous sculptures scattered throughout the garden. He was well over six feet tall and I was sure he had even a few inches on my father. He was dressed to nines in black asgardian leather, sporting a bear skin across his broad shoulders. He was also armed to the teeth, a display of daggers was strapped across his chest. His hair was jet black and tied in messy bun. His skin was tan, golden brown and completely flawless. He was strong, built like a soldier who had been fighting their whole life long.

He approached us with a brisk pace and bowed deeply before me. "My name is Tysiel, High General of the Beserkers, second in command in the Ragninval Army. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," he said, gently taking my hand before kissing it softly.

"The pleasure is all mine," I replied. I was far more than curious about this boy...no-this man. Perhaps this period of courtship wouldn't be so bad afterall, at the very least I could at least use this as an oppurunity to torment my father. And maybe, just maybe I would forget about Grimnir. "Would you care to join me for a ride? I've already saddled up our horses," Tysiel suggested politely, extending a hand for me to take. His hand was scarred beyond belief, it looked like tiger stripes upon his skin and I could tell that it extended up his arm.

Just as I was about to take up my offer and place my hand in his, my father harshly pulled me back by the elbow. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. My father simply inhaled sharply before giving me a warning look.

"I'll be fine," I said, smiling innocently at my father. He looked as if he was already regretting this whole ordeal. Part of me was really hoping he was. Maybe if my father was getting cold feet, I would be able to slither my way out of all of this. No matter how beautiful this man was, I certainly didn't want to marry him.

My father gently let go, letting me take Tyriel's hand. "I'll take good care of her, I promise," Tyriel assured my father with a warm grin. By the paleness of my father's face and his narrowed green eyes, I could tell he was far more than weary. I flashed a smile at him before I pulled Tyriel towards the stables.

"General of the Beserkers and second in command in the Ragninval Army," I repeated as I walked arm in arm with Tyriel. "That's no small feat for someone so...young," I said, looking up at him. In all that I knew of Asgard's long history, I knew it was quite bizarre to have a general, much less a second in command, as young as Tyriel. He held so much power with the titles he possessed.

"I was born into it. The army, war, it's all I've ever known. So, when the position opened I was selected unanimously. Which was...surprising although very flattering," he explained as he pushed open the stable door for me. Just as he had said, Tyriel had two horses saddled and ready for our ride. To my surprise, two bows with full quivers also sat nearby. My eyes were instantly drawn to them. I hadn't practiced in so long...

"I heard you're quite the archer," he said with a small smile. "I'm out of practice," I replied as he slung one of the quivers over his shoulder. The bow he grabbed was large and the sinew was so thick I could hardly imagine the strength necessary to draw an arrow.

"Then perhaps my gift will inspire you to practice," he said as he handed me the other bow. It was the finest bow I had ever seen. The wood was stained nearly black and was etched with swirls and flowers galore. It was just as gorgeous as it was powerful. The sinew was braided to perfection, just taught enough for me to manage.

"I can't accept this," I said as I marveled over the weapon. There was no way I could accept a gift from Tyriel, not now. I certainly did not want to owe him anything or leave him expectant. "Please, I insist. Consider it as a gift from your army," he replied, leading my horse out to me.

"Well, then-thank you. It's a gorgeous bow," I said as I pulled the quiver over my shoulder. "Of course," Tyriel said with a shrug before he hoisted me up onto my horse. Smiling up at me he added, "It's only appropriate that a girl as gorgeous as you are has weaponry to match her looks."

I rolled my eyes and tried to fight the blush that began to spread across my cheeks. "Alright then, General of the Beserkers, what are we hunting today with this gorgeous weaponry?" I asked as he mounted his steed.

"On my way here, I spotted a herd of deer just past the stream. I figured we'd start there and see where the day might take us," he answered, "Sound alright?"

I could hardly contain my smile. That sounded more than alright, it sounded borderline fun.

LOKI'S POINT OF VIEW
"I've made a mistake," I said grimly as I walked into Sigyn's study. She looked at me from behind her small cauldron, whatever she was brewing smelled like peppermint and rosewood.

"A mistake?" she questioned, raising a brow as she poured dried herbs into her brew. I nodded and slumped into the chair nearest to her.

"Tyriel? You know, the suitor I picked out for Hela?" I asked. Sigyn nodded.

"Yes, the one who has a reputation for being brutal, made ugly with scars? He's the young general of the Berserkers, no? Only eighteen. That one?" she said.

"Precisely the one," I confirmed as I ran my hands through my hair. "I'm failing to see what the issue at hand. From all that you told me, he sounds awful-terrifying even," Sigyn said.

"He is awful. And terrifying. He looks like he was carved from damn marble he looked so perfect. God, and he was just so polite. You should've seen the look on Hela's face, dear. This is bad. Very bad," I said anxiously. Sigyn sighed as she put a lid over her cauldron.

"I thought you were going to get her bad suitors so that she doesn't feel inclined to marry. Did you not care to vet these men before you handed our daughter off to them?" she asked.

"I did!" I insisted. Sigyn narrowed those brown eyes at me and crossed her arms. "Listen, it's not as if they have headshots in their descriptions. How was I supposed to know he was supposed to be drop dead gorgeous?" I said hastily.

"All we can do now is pray she finds some detail about him that she hates. Maybe he has chronic bad breath. Maybe he's stupid," she suggested. I shook my head, by the looks of Tyriel-he seemed damn near perfect. And from the way Hela looked at me, as if she had just won some unspoken battle, made it very clear she was going to make my life hell with this little relationship.

"Well...would you rather her be experiencing puppy love with Tyriel or with Grimnir?" Sigyn asked as she sat on the arm of my chair.

"Grimnir...is a cheater. Tyriel is the general of the berserkers. Do you know what the Beserkers are?" I said, looking up at Sigyn.

"Yes, I know what the Beserkers are. They're...magically enhanced, religiously devout warriors who posses the strength of what is it...a hundred bears? Sounds terrifying but my dear, it sounds right up Hela's alley," Sigyn replied, gently running her hands through my hair in an effort to calm me down.

I groaned as I hid my face in my hands. This was all very bad.