Mischievous

Chapter Twenty

        "Hey, um, quick question. Would you guys still be fine with me being here if you knew I was in Odin's royal dungeon up until about three hours earlier? I probably should have mentioned that before. My bad."

        I sat at a small table with the elderly couple, finishing up the meal they'd given me. We'd had a hearty stew followed by braised pork and vegetables. Alongside a fresh loaf of bread, of course. It wasn't as extravagant as the feast the King held in his son's name when I first arrived, but I liked that. It also wasn't as lame as something I would have had back on Earth.

        Their home wasn't as small as it had appeared at first glance either. Still, it wasn't like the mini mansions I could see from the balcony of my chamber back at the palace. The dining room was directly beside the kitchen which connected to the foyer. The foyer acted as a living room, and there was one bathroom on the first floor. A stairway at the back was decorated with paintings, but I hadn't bothered to look at them when I'd come in.

        As soon as I'd sat down to eat, the woman had introduced both her and her husband, who'd smiled widely at me from behind the kitchen counter. Her name was Skadi, and he was Raul. Oddly enough, I'd given them my Midgardian name, paying homage to my adoptive parents with their surname. Anyway, the couple's offer to invite me inside was so unexpected, that I'd totally forgotten that being a fugitive might have been a bit of an issue. Thankfully, Skadi didn't seem to care as she said:

        "I think you'll find that Raul and I don't always agree with Odin's decisions. A young girl like you shouldn't be cooped up with criminals."

        "Even if I am one?"

        "Are you?"

        "No."

        "Then I see no problem here. Contrary to belief, the King is not always correct."

        Her response shocked me. I'd never met anyone other than Loki who didn't sing praises about the All-Father and his infinite wisdom. Sure, I almost started a revolution in a pub once, but that wasn't exactly proof of anything. The fact that Asgard wasn't a democracy of some sort after all these years showed that no one seemed to disagree with whomever happened to be in charge. That, or they just didn't care enough to make a change.

        I took a sip of my tea. "I know that better than anyone, but I didn't think anyone would ever agree with that statement."

        "There's a reason we live out here, away from the rest of the realm," Raul chimed in. "It gives us the freedom to do what we want—"

        "—And allows us to ignore those who see nothing but perfection," finished Skadi. "I find it incredible that people can be so ignorant. Hopefully this war will show them the truth."

        "It's official then? We're battling the Dark Elves?"

        "At some point, yes. We're stalling until then. It's always the same with Odin. Hide, plan, defend. His father took things head on, he waits until the destruction comes to him. Less soldiers lost, but certainly more damage. People say it's because he values people over material things. I think it's because he's a coward."

        "Wow." I turned to Raul. "Are you going to have to fight? You're a man, which normally forces you into the line-of-duty, but is there an age cap or something? Do you have a choice?"

        He sighed. "There was a time I may have helped the King. At this point, I have no obligation to serve him, and he knows better than to ask me. But, to answer your question in a more general manner, normally all men are expected to fight. Only the women have a choice. Most stay out of it to prevent their children from becoming orphans. Losing a father is seen as a sign of greatness. It means you've got courage in your blood. Or a complete lack of skill. No one would ever admit it, but most of our fallen are killed because they fail to be better equipped with their blade. Valhalla has failed to see a worthy hero for years."