Heir to Jotunheim | ✔

Chapter Five

I woke up to Mum pushing my door open, and flicking my light on. "Come on Tyr, you need to get ready to go, I want to leave in under an hour."

"Fine." My voice was gruff as I rolled over, burying my head back under my blankets as I tried to fall back asleep. My eyes had been shut for a total of thirty seconds, when my alarm began blaring, causing my phone to vibrate loudly against my bedside table.

I groaned, and flung my arm out, hitting at it. I managed to turn it off, and with bleary eyes I saw the time.

Half past five. In the morning.

I loved my Grandad, I really did, but leaving the house at six am was not my idea of a fun way to spend my Saturday. Especially the Saturday after my first week of school. The one day I had planned on sleeping in until I naturally woke up.

I didn't argue with it though, as Mum didn't get to visit him often, and it just so happened to be my turn in accompanying her. Dad went with her last time, and the chaos that ensued at home was enough for me to never want to be left in charge again.

I pulled on my pair of black jogging bottoms, knowing they'd be the only things comfy enough to travel halfway across the country and back in. I yanked a brush through my thoroughly knotted hair, and picked up my pre packed bag of homework that I planned to complete on the train.

Mum was half way through a slice of toast when I found her, looking just as tired as I felt in the early morning haze. Dad was next to her, forcing a hot drink down her so she would have the energy to leave the house.

"Ready love?" He asked her, kissing her cheek before unlocking the front door, and guiding us to the car. Freya had been put in charge for the forty minutes Dad would be out of the house for, though everyone except possibly Brooke, would sleep through it all.

I climbed into the back seat, willing myself to stay awake as he drove us to the train station, double checking we both had our return tickets before he told us he loved us, and let us leave.

The platform was cold, but I was safely bundled in my jumper, and the temperature didn't get too uncomfortable. Mum, however, was the complete opposite. She was wrapped in a coat that Dad had enhanced with a charm to keep her warm, but she still wore her large boots and thick socks.

"I'll get us a drink." I appeased her, and went to the little stall on the platform. Five pounds down, and carrying two teas, I went to find Mum, just as the train arrived. We settled into our reserved seats, and I began to unpack my bag of notes.

Tackling Shakespeare wasn't the most interesting thing I could think of doing, but now I was awake, I may as well make the most of it and finish some of the wretched work.

I thought Mum had fallen asleep, as ten minutes into the journey she was still quiet, but she broke out of whatever sleepy trance she'd been in to nudge my shoulder. "Who was that girl?"

I stilled my pen. "What girl?"

"At Variety, earlier in the week. You spoke like you knew her." I could tell Mum was holding her curiosity back.

"She's Cleopatra."

"And how do you know her?" Mum sipped the last of her cooling tea.

"She was in isolation the same time I was."

She put the tea down. "What did she do?"

I shrugged, turning the page so I could continue reading about Lady Macbeth's evil descent into madness. "Dyed her hair bright red. Apparently it doesn't count as a natural hair colour. She had to bleach it that night."