Death Becomes Her

her beauty surpassed all

five

Loki and Thor looked at each other as they stood before the massive golden doors that lead to the throne room. The older God squeezed the younger's shoulder, who trembled slightly with uncertainty.

"Everything will be fine, brother," the blond wore an expression of reassurance on his stumbled face, "Father will take Lady Hadrianne's word."

"I still do not trust he will believe this is truly her-"

"She will prove it to them all, Loki. Her magic, even I can feel it. You must feel it more than I. And imagine Mother's reaction. She taught you everything she knows," Thor dropped his gaze to the Mistress of Death, "And the power she radiates, no one will be able to deny her."

The God of Mischief clenched his teeth, dropping his gaze to the unconscious woman in his arms, "I am sorry, Thor. For all I have done to you."

"If I could not forgive you, Loki, I would not be a very good brother, would I?"

The younger of the two was about to respond when the creaking of the immense doors drew their attention. Lady Hadrianne shuddered slightly in Loki's arms, letting out a soft breath while her delicate brow creased only barely.

Both princes paused, thinking she would wake, but the porcelain skinned woman simply settled, her beautiful face relaxing, settling in the God's hold. The two then continued to wander slowly up the hall, towards the throne room, to await Loki's fate.

:3

A second pair of tall doors, smaller than the last, opened as they approached, to reveal Odin perched on an impressive throne with Frigga at his side, a worried expression on her elegant face while the Allfather's remained blank, almost unimpressed. Armoured guards lined the walls and suddenly the Ruler of the Nine Realms demanded, his deep, baritone voice loud and directed at Thor, "Why is he not in chains?"

Frigga's eyes were locked on the woman in her son's arms, feeling the suffocating energy, and studied her strange, feline form with impressive wings. They were beautiful, looking soft and silky at the same time. Her thoughts were cut short by her eldest's words.

"We have something, or someone, more significant than Loki's capture, Allfather."

"Yes, I see the girl in his arms. The one with the wings. But her presence will not stop his incarceration. Guards!"

"Wait."

Everyone turned to stare at the startled Queen, who was still transfixed on her sons. Frigga gathered a handful of her thick dress and treaded gracefully down the steps leading up to the throne. She glided over to the princes and the unconscious woman.

She looked both her sons' in the eyes, reading their certainty and urge to defend this foreigner, then gently put forward her hand as if to stroke the woman's face. The Queen sucked in a deep breath and let out a shaky sigh, feeling the blackette's powerful magic reach out and caress her own.

Frigga turned to her husband who's posture was stiff and annoyed. But she stood tall in front of Loki and Thor, as if to shield them from him if she needed to, and with her shoulders back and her head raised, announced to everyone present, "She is the Mistress of Death."

Stunned gasps and shocked whispers erupted through the hall, but Odin dismissed them with a scowl and an abrupt wave of his hand, "Rubbish. She is merely a unique Midgardian. Nothing but a freak to her own kind-"

Unnoticed, Hadrianne's finger twitched, subconsciously hearing everything slanderous this man was saying about her.

"-Weak and fragile like any other being from Midgard. Anything said in the tales of Lady Hadrianne, would break this young woman because she is nothing."

The enormous hall abruptly plunged in temperature, small puffs of clouds exiting every mouth because of how freezing it had just become. The Asgardians all started to feel very constricted, their chests tight and bodies almost frozen in place, hardly being able to move.

"How dare you deny my Mistress..." a deep voice rumbled gently throughout the throne room. It sent shivers down everyone's spines, the threatening tone making them all gulp. It was like nails on a chalkboard but also like angels singing in the sky.

A dense, black fog swirled into existence between the princes and the Queen, right in front of the unconscious woman, before a being wearing a ripped, hooded black shroud stepped out, holding a large rusted scythe, stained with the blood of countless. It towered over them all, "She is more than you are, 'King,' and more than you will ever hope to be."

It looked like it was about to continue when a dainty, pale hand was placed on its forearm, stopping it. All eyes turned to the owner of said hand, and everyone except Loki, Thor and Frigga were taken aback.

There, standing with her wings spread wide, her head slightly tilted and her hair drifting around in a nonexistent wind, was the now conscious woman that was laying in Loki's arms, standing beside Death. Her bright green eyes startled everyone present with their ethereal glow. Her beauty surpassed all of the Asgardian women and now none could deny who she truly was.