Mischievous

Chapter Twenty-Two

        I was down the hall in a flash. Not taking time to process the entirety of the situation, I ran from my doorway all the way back down to the armory. Men and women of all ages were preparing themselves for the battle to come, for the battle that was already here. This was it. My chance to finally prove that I wasn't just a conniving little brat. That I could actually stand up for others. That. . . That I didn't kill Frigga.

        Frigga.

        Her name rang out in my head. Loud, sharp, and full of pain and anguish. She'd put her life on the line to save mine. The woman had barely known me, barely gotten to understand the true intentions behind my actions. Did I even know why I did half the crap I did? If that were true, I probably wouldn't feel so guilty all the time. Especially for what happened that day.

        It's somewhat shocking. How much it sticks in my mind. How much I've tried to deny the fact that a solid nine out of ten times when I close my eyes, it's her bloodied body I see. I thought that I'd solved most of my problems. I thought that my days of sorrow were behind me. When I came here, I expected to be happy, for once. But all of my hopes and dreams went straight down the gutter.

        There'd been a few good months before everything went to hell. And then she'd had to sacrifice herself. Had she known Odin would blame me? Did she know he would lock me down there with Loki? Was her death just a ploy to get my father to finally accept that I was his daughter? That I was here? He'd known though, hadn't he? So why did I add that to the list of things I should have thanked her for? She taught me so much, and now she's gone. Forever. It would seem as though I don't have a great track record with mother figures.

        Despite how much I wish my mind wouldn't focus so much on her passing, on her, after all the time I spent locked away and able to grieve, I'm glad I have something to fight for. Her death will not have been in vain.

        I raided the supplies, searching for things to equip myself with. A stranger came over and helped me put on an awkwardly fitting piece of breastplate. It was some of the only armor remaining. It would have to do. Riffling through the chest of weapons the Lady Sif had acquainted me with months ago, I wasn't shocked to find the daggers waiting for me, all the way at the bottom. They were light in my hands, comforting in an odd way. I gave them a little spin before pocketing them in a belt I'd picked up.

        The armory was in total disarray at this point, and the onflow of fighters didn't stop. The Asgardians were so willing to defend their home without a second thought. I couldn't help but admire their dedication. As I was pulled by a crowd of people toward the sounds of swords clashing and foreign warrior cries, I noticed Loki enter the room. His previous formal attire had been ditched for more protective clothing. If I was right, it looked as though he was wearing the same outfit he'd worn the day I met him at Avengers Tower. That's how you know he meant business.

        He met my gaze, gave me a solemn nod, and that was it. I was pushed out into the courtyard. Thrown into the heat of battle where hundreds and hundreds of Dark Elves were cutting through the ranks of Asgardians.

        I barely had time to think before one of those foul creatures had made me its target. Perhaps this was more than I asked for. There were just so many of them, and even if we beat them in numbers, what about training? These were obviously soldiers who'd been born with the sole purpose of slaying their enemies. I couldn't say the same for myself or any of the other people who fought beside me. Still, those sorts of thoughts were only going to weigh me down and increase the likelihood of my death. I had to focus.

        Clang!

        My dagger blocked an attack from an elf's sword. The opposing army was a wave of gold and black, their waxy-like, hollow masks instilling more than an inkling of fear within me. They were a lot stronger than me. Which, all things considered, I was, whether I liked to admit it or not, still a child. These men towered over me. So, I decided to even the playing field a little bit with some magic.