Mischievous

Chapter Seven

        I can't seem to remember when things started to get out of hand. It was either before or after I was offered a tankard of mead. More specifically, an Asgardian boy bought me one, which I wasn't entirely grateful for. I flipped him off.

        It appeared as though the Asgardians had no drinking age since the barkeep placed the drink before me without giving me so much of a glance. He was burly and had a beard that fell all the way down to his clavicle. I decided I wouldn't push too much on the subject. The mead was chilled, but as I took a sip, I found myself feeling warmer. It was an odd sensation, but pleasurable all the less.

        Within a few moments, I had finished the drink before me and was worried that, well, as a ten-year-old, this was going to have severe complications on my mental health. Then again, I was pretty sure I was already insane. So, as I slowly found my desire for more mead growing and my control over my impulses lessening, I knew that perhaps that disaster I'd been imagining would, in fact, be me.

        "Care to join us, young lady?" A voice called from one of the nearby tables.

        I turned to find four men sitting around a table, all obviously drunk. One was already pulling another chair over but was stumbling over the legs. He had me worried that he'd trip over himself onto the floor, but when he did, he just burst into a fit of childish giggles. Was it a good idea to take the man's offer? Probably not, but what trouble could I possibly get into if I played it safe?

        It might be best for me not to get into the details of what happened for the rest of the evening. Let me assure you that my mouth almost got me into a fight once or twice. Still, thankfully, those same lips could talk me out of whatever situation I'd managed to get myself into. I was on the edge of feeling like collapsing or running around for hours, neither of which would do me much good when I hopped onto one of the tables.

        My speech was slurred as I spoke. "Why, oh why, dear, dear friends, should we be forced to listen to a king? " Their drunk ramblings came to a halt. "I mean, you're all capable of taking care of yourselves. Don't you want to have some say in what you can do, what you can say? How much mead you can have?"

        A cheer echoed through the room. Not surprising, I knew they'd have liked that part. It was why they were here, after all.

        "But," I waved my hands trying to silence them once more, but almost tumbled off the table. Multiple arms caught me, bringing me back to a standing position. "Thank you, thank you. But, at the same time, who's to say one of you can't become king? The answer, my friends, is simple." I paused, a giggle escaping my lips. Oh, how I was dying to see how this ended. Even in my daze, I still remembered the goal I'd come here with.

        "Your allies hold you back. The only way for you to gain the power you want is to take down those who stand in your way. So, I'll ask once, who wants power?"

        The whole tavern stood, arms waving like children. It was as though they thought I could give it to them like a gift, a birthday present. No, that wasn't what I wanted them to be thinking.

        "Then I suggest you take it for yourselves. These people who claim to stand by your side, perhaps, they sat next to you all day, they are your enemies. And they must be destroyed."

        I was worried they wouldn't take the bait. Or, maybe, the barkeep, who I hadn't seen touch a single drop of alcohol, call my b.s. and stop things before it got messy. He didn't step in, however, and after a couple seconds of people gazing around the room, taking in those before them, chaos ensued.

        Someone threw a chair, which splintered into fragments as it hit the wall, its target having ducked out of the way. I leaped off the table, though, in all honesty, it was more of a hop that ended with me on the floor. Another man fell beside me, a pool of blood forming beneath his nose. He gave me a lopsided smile. I gave him one in return. Loki was right, there had been some trouble I could get into, and get into it I had.