Mischievous

Chapter Nineteen

        I'd made it a whole week. So, it would seem as though Asgardians could last longer than humans. A fact that would have seemed obvious had I not felt like dying in the moment. A few days ago I had given up on getting off of the bed slab and spent my time either staring at the ceiling, the wall, or the prisoners opposite my cell. And, when I wasn't staring I was sleeping. A lack of hydration meant that I was utterly exhausted at all times.

        Today I could barely peel open my eyelids. Lost in the blank void of my mind I began to worry that my paranoia had led me to my own demise. Chances were Odin didn't care about me enough to bother poisoning me or getting rid of me in some other subtle way. He was occupied with an ever-closer war with the Dark Elves. Why would he spend the time to kill a child that was already locked up? I'd either overestimated my own importance, or overestimated the hatred Odin had for me.

        Summer hadn't bothered to criticize my actions, but I had a feeling that she was just as tired as I was. I was sure that any attempt on my part to do any magic would lead to nothing. There wasn't enough energy around for me to do much of anything. It was a shame, really. This wasn't the way I'd planned on dying. Not so young, not here, not because of myself. Okay, maybe that last one was a lie. Most people wanted to kill me before due to my 'rebellious' actions. I'd been expecting that to bite me in the butt someday. I'd just hoped that when it did I wouldn't be alone, underground, fading out of existence.

        That's why it was such a relief when I felt someone poke me.

        "Lokisdóttir." An unfamiliar voice bellowed. "Your presence has been requested in the throne room."

        My salvation. I managed to swing my legs over to the floor, but collapsed when I attempted to stand. Thankfully, the guard who'd been ordered to retrieve me had quick reflexes. He saved me from a painful crash onto the marble. That's a lot of bruises I'm glad to have avoided. It seemed as though he'd been prepared for my clumsiness and even brought a glass of water, but my stubborn desire to be right about Odin forced me to decline the offer. I was my own worst enemy at this point.

        Not being pushy enough to force me to accept, the member of the Einherjar guided me out toward the stairs. If I hadn't been so out of sorts, I'm sure that I would have given the other criminals an assortment of rude gestures and expressions. But, struggling to keep one foot in front of the other, I followed the man without any objection. Each ascending step meant the possibility of me falling flat on my face, but my sheer determination to maintain my image (which, technically, at the moment was a murderer and perhaps not the best thing to keep about) guided me all the way to the throne room.

        It hadn't changed much at all since the last time I'd been in it. It was still overly shiny, a tad bit too large, and vacant except for the grand throne where my most favorite ruler of all time sat. Two more guards had joined us and we now stood in a diamond-like formation before the king. Fortunately or unfortunately, I couldn't bring myself to decide, two other familiar faces also watched from the sidelines. Thor, quite possibly the greatest fool in Asgard, and Loki, the father who'd without hesitation left me to die. Though, he did seem a bit more sympathetic as he looked at my state of being.

        Thankfully, I had the wisdom even with a clouded mind to keep my mouth shut until I was spoken to. Which, as Odin didn't like to keep himself waiting, was quite soon.

        "Winter Lokisdóttir," He greeted without a hint of warmth. I wasn't sure how I felt about them suddenly referring to me as Loki's daughter, but would save that discussion for a later date.

        "In an effort to stay in the good graces of our foremost strategist, I have taken it upon myself to maintain your well-being. An act of which I take no pleasure in doing, but cannot afford the cost otherwise. Your own self-destructive nature has made it apparent that you cannot be left to your own devices and so your place in the palace has been reinstated. However, your crime has not been expunged from the record and will only ever be if you were to do something of unfathomable good will. The sort of which I never believe will be done by the likes of you."