Slumber (LokixReader pt. 26)

“I had hoped he would wake by now.”

You looked down at the peaceful face of Odin, glowing under the light of the golden magic that had been supposed to keep him safe. You were sitting by his bedside, holding his hand and watching the soft rise and fall of his chest. You realised you did not know the colour of his eyes, they had always been closed in slumber. You had never seen them open and you yearned to see him look at you, to see him smile at you, to hear him call you his daughter. To tell you he loved you. But there had been no change in his condition. The immense power of the Odinforce thrumming through your veins belonged to him by rights, you knew this, and you knew that you would give everything you had, all your power, your magic, your throne, just to see him open his eyes.

“It has been nearly five days since the traitor was imprisoned,” Frigga murmured from the other side of the bed, her fingers stroking her husband’s snowy hair. “He should have woken.”

“Frigga,” you whispered, looking across the All-Father to the Queen Mother, “What am I going to do? I only agreed to take the throne because I believed Odin would awaken. Frigga, I’m not ready to be the Queen of Asgard, not forever.” You felt a prickling in your eyes and a tightening of your throat, forcing you to subside into silence. A twinge of pain momentarily flashed across the cuts carved into your flesh, hidden beneath the rich cloth of your bodice.

“Everything will be alright,” Frigga said soothingly, “You must have faith that your father will return to us. Until then, you must remain strong. The people want to see a strong queen, not a frightened girl.”

You looked back down at your father, determinedly blinking back tears. The doors to the All-Father’s chamber opened and two guards entered the room, bowing respectfully.

“You Majesty,” one of them said, “it is time to hold court. There are petitions which you must hear and there is a messenger from Hela, Queen of Hel. He brings a gift for Your Majesty.”

You were about to snap furiously at him, but caught sight of Frigga’s warning look in time to check yourself and heave a sigh. You leaned down to press a kiss to Odin’s cheek and stood, the guards falling in behind you as you swept out of the chamber. You took your seat upon the throne and arranged your skirts carefully, taking your time. The guard by your side cleared his throat softly and you lifted your chin proudly, nodding slightly. The Lord Steward thumped the end of his staff against the floor.

“The emissary from Hela, Queen of Hel, to present a gift from his queen to the Queen of Asgard!” The Lord Steward announced as the spectral skeleton, wrapped in a cloak of so dark a green it seemed almost black, approached the throne, his bones clattering slightly as he bowed before you. His lipless grin unnerved you almost as much as the two pinpricks of green light that shone in his empty eye-sockets, but you knew better than to let him know your unease. You acknowledged his presence with a nod and a small smile.

“Welcome to Asgard,” you said smoothly. “We are honoured to receive an emissary from Queen Hela.”

“Greetings to you, mighty queen,” the skeleton rasped, “Queen Hela send her regrets. She could not attend your coronation in person due to matters of the realm. But she sends me with a gift for Your Majesty.”

From within the folds of his cloak, his bony hand drew out a flat, rectangular box carved from ebony wood inlaid with swirls of mother-of-pearl. Lady Sif took it from him and brought it to you. You stood and ran your fingers along the polished wood, smooth under your touch, before pressing the clasp and sliding the lid open.

Your eyes widened slightly and you let out a slow exhale of awe. Nestled among folds of shimmering silver satin was a dagger. Its blade, curved and pointed in asymmetrical beauty and grace, was wickedly sharp and gleamed a dark and smoky grey. You lifted it free from the box and found that it was perfectly balanced, resting innocently upon the pad of your index finger without the slightest quiver. The hilt was wrapped in oiled black leather, supple and velvety. You heard a soft gasp of astonishment echo around the throne room from the guards and the Warriors Three who were in attendance.

You turned the blade over in your hands, “What is it?”

“A treasure, mighty queen,” the skeleton grinned eerily, “It is a sálsax. Of the nine that were forged in the fires of the deepest circles of Hel, one for each of the Nine Realms, only three remain. The rest have been lost.”

“A sálsax?” Fandral asked, craning his head to get a better look.

“It is a relic of powerful magic,” the skeleton sounded irritated, but the pinpoints of green light shining in his sockets never changed, never gave away any emotion. “The sálsax possesses the ability to send the soul of its victim directly into the shadows of Hel to await their judgement. Its magic is so great that the blade need only scratch the skin to release the soul. It is a weapon of grace and compassion, Queen of Asgard. With this blade there need be no unnecessary bloodshed. Only a scratch and then eternal peace.”

“It is a marvellous gift,” you murmured, placing the blade back in the box and slowly closing the lid, hearing the latch click before your eyes slid to the grinning skull, “Not, I think, meant to be simply a coronation gift. No, it is too fine for that. Why does Hela send this to me?”

“My queen believes you will have need of it,” the skeleton laughed, a rattling sound that set your teeth on edge, “She is of the opinion that it will be very useful to you in the near future.”

“What does Hela know?” Fandral demanded, his hand reaching for the hilt of his sword.

“Much,” the skeleton growled, the lights of his eyes brightening dangerously as he vanished in a tendril of smoke. The guards shouted in surprise and dismay and your hand tightened on Gungnir, your eyes narrowing as the smoke dissipated.

“What kind of game does she think she’s playing?” Volstagg exclaimed in irritation, “Your Majesty, I urge you, throw the dagger away! It is a thing of dark magic! Neither it nor Hela can be trusted! She thirsts for the throne, she—”

“I am aware of Hela’s ambition!” you snapped sharply, “But her quarrel lies with my father, not with me! If what her emissary said was true, then she may have just saved my life in advance by gifting this blade to me.” You took the box from Sif and opened it again, looking over the soul dagger again, admiring the way the smoky surface of the blade shimmered slightly under the light of the torches.

“If Hela is correct,” Sif said, looking around at the guards, “then she has given us a warning. If something is coming, now we can prepare. We can ready the defences.”

“Asgard will repel whatever enemies attempt to breach our walls.” Volstagg declared proudly, “Asgard will never fall!”

“Unless the threat is from the inside.” Hogun growled. The throne room fell silent as the warriors and guards looked around at each other. You twirled the dagger in your hand, tossing it into the air and catching again, watching it absently.

“The near future, he said,” you murmured at last. “The question is how near is near?”