If there was one thing Steve Rogers was starting to learn, it was how many secrets Agent Phil Coulson could keep. Coulson's death brought about meeting his adopted daughter Evelyn, another person who carried many secrets and mysteries of her own, ma...
It's day four. I'm getting nervous, uneasy, but...
I refuse to lose hope. Dad told me that rescues take time, and if negotiations are being done, they take longer. The good thing is they are keeping me alive...and spoiled, at the moment.
I looked down at Brooklyn, who now had his own blanket on my bed. He was asleep, and doing alright. I set up a box of sorts where he could relieve himself.
There wasn't much to do, except at night when I went to visit Fenrir. There was no electricity in the place that I knew of. My phone and MP3 player were getting low, so I had begun singing to myself when I was alone. Ingemar brought me some sort of books, but I wasn't interested. I was planning on leaving soon. I refused to get immersed; seriously, who wants to get immersed in a culture that kidnapped them?! I started leafing through one of the books, looking at the pictures. What a violent race, I thought as I sung a Pat Benetar song with my earphones on.
Suddenly, my earphones were snatched off. "You must stop!"
I gasped up Ingemar. I had grown used to him checking in on me. Truthfully, I no longer considered him a threat. "What?!"
"Males are lingering in the halls, Lesedi. They are listening to your song. The list of males who want you grows. I thought you did not want a mate!"
"Singing keeps me sane, Ingemar--"
"Sing softer!" He turned on his heel and strode out. This time, when he opened the door, I saw many figures outside my door. I even saw a few sets of yellow eyes peek as the door shut behind him.
I nervously pet Brooklyn. Even though my prison cell was spacious and accommodating, it was still a prison cell. And wolves--ice wolves were at the door--sometimes I wondered why.
Ingemar returned. He wasn't happy. "He wants to see you."
My breath caught. "Who?"
"Utgard-Loki, regent of the chief city."
Servants came to adorn me, but I refused all of it. I'd be damned if I looked like I dressed up for him. I was taken to the throne room. It was dark and cold. I took Brooklyn with me. I did not trust anyone with him, not even Ingemar.
At first I did not see Utgard-Loki; he looked like part of the icy rock throne I was walking toward, but as the light became better, I saw his eyes. He looked like he was ten feet tall! I froze, feeling Ingemar's body right behind me.
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"Closer." His voice sounded like thunder in the distance before a storm. I took two very small steps forward, and he gave a chuckle. "So you are Lesedi of Midgard?"
I swallowed hard. "Yes."
"I am Utgard-Loki, ruler of the chief city of Utgard." He narrowed his eyes at me. "Show me the pest you carry," He leaned forward. "I want to see it."
"Why?" When I saw Utgard-Loki raise his eyebrows at me, I was reminded of my place here. I took Brooklyn out of my bag. I held him out in front of me for a few seconds, turning him for his inspection, and held him close to me again.
"You have affection for this thing?" he asked. "There are better--"
"No, thank you." I forced a small smile. "I like him very much, thank you--"
"Sing for me."
"Sing what?" I asked. He only stared. I thought of something that might sound nice in a king's halls, called Riversong:
"Far above into the sky,
The Gods' tears fall from their eyes.
The Angels fall. Demons crawl.
For in the night we fight for you
And in our hearts we follow the truth
And as the battle rages on and on
Our warcries echo far and strong
The old war calls a somber song,
With shield and sword you must go on.
Ravens soar. Dragons roar.
For in the night we fight for you
And in our hearts we follow the truth
And as the battle rages on and on
Our war cries echo far and strong..."
I felt drained all of a sudden. I wanted Steve. I wanted him here. I felt alone. I felt my throat tighten, much to my dismay. Not here, I thought, not here in the midst of enemies. I bowed my head, trying to stop the tears from coming to my eyes.
"Are you crying, little one?"
I didn't look up but decided to answer Ingemar's question with a question. I swallowed enough of the lump in my throat to speak. "Does it matter?"
"Maybe." He stood next to me. He raised his voice so the king would hear. "I'd like to take her back now. She is tired and in need of food."
I raised my head to make a silent plea to leave only to lock eyes with Utgard-Loki. A slow smile formed on his lips as he nodded approval. "She needs her strength."
I didn't miss the look on Utgard-Loki's face, which was one of heat despite his coldness, nor the look on Ingemar's, which was one of concern.
Something was so wrong, amiss. Something was definitely wrong.
