Tell Me A Story

As If I Have A Choice

"Dagmar!"
Cried the rusty, old voice of her guardian. Dagmar did not hear her for she was sitting on her old and unpleasant bed in the maids room. It was a circular area with 8 beds, each had the head pressed up against the grey, stone walls and the foot facing the center. It was dreadful but in my many years of living here, she had no choice but to get used to it.
There was one door, (it was to the left of her resting area) there was also a window above each bed, (they were decorated in stained glass with Royals on each, Dagmar's was Frigga) and a wooden chest at the end, each was decorated in bronze metals with simple designs. It was there for each maid to hold all her belongings. Dagmar's was filled with unusual things she would find on her resting days. Those were the days she left the Kingdom and explored the woods surrounding the Golden City. She also kept in there my many sketches. She would often have to craft her own parchment when she no longer had any.
At the moment, she was reading on the Midgaurdians. She was not aloud to read for she was considered an inferior being. But she had borrowed the large novel from the Royal Library as the ways of the creatures of Midgard have always facinated her. She steadily leafed through the thick yellow pages as she examined every word and every picture. The photographs moved and changed, this is why she would take from the Royal Library, the pictures. The ones in her region do not move in the slightest.
The strong aroma of the aged pages gradually ascended and reached her nostrils. She stole an exhale through her nose and sighed as she closed her eyes. There was nothing more she loved then the sweet scent of the old books. The more she read, the more she became knowledgeable of Midgard. Most maidservants cannot read. They were never taught but Dagmar had gotten quiet fortunate. Years ago, when she was still a young child and still friends with Loki, she was to serve his mother, the Great Queen Frigga for a few moons. Being the kind woman she is, she took pity on the young girl and taught her to read and write. She had some amazing memories of the royal family, they created a great Kingdom.
"DAGMAR!"
She panicked. Forcing Aslog to wait on you was one of the few things you did not want to do to that old woman. She swiftly shoved the old book under her forest green pillow and ran out the door, her blonde hair and red dress swaying like a flag as she sped across the gold floors.
"What took you so long you filthy swine!" She yelled out at the young maiden when she finally came into her presence. "If you force me to wait once more, Dagmar, I shall break your other wrist to teach you yet another lesson!" Aslog roughly huffed at her. Dagmar looked down onto her left hand and briefly examined the bandages. It hurt terribly but the girl was slowly growing used to the pain.
"Forgive me, I was resting."
"Resting? Resting! You will not rest until you are told! Have you learned nothing over your years?! You are needed down in the dungeons, I need those cells to be cleaned! A new batch of prisoners are coming and 7 of the cells still have blood stains in them! I also want the floors to be spotless after they are escorted to their new prisons for they will be filthy from the mucked bare feet of the abominations! Do you understand?!"
Dagmar choked at her horrid breath but the girl managed to nod her head in agreement. Luckily, Aslog did not hear Dagmar say under her breath. "As if I have a choice."
She would then have two broken wrists.