Deze afbeelding leeft onze inhoudsrichtlijnen niet na. Verwijder de afbeelding of upload een andere om verder te gaan met publiceren.
she's an exploration, she's made of outer space
DELICATE FINGERS TRACED THE GOLDEN LINE where the torn skin of her thigh had been stitched back together. The cut she made while sleeping was a little too deep than she expected, and in any other given situation she would've stitched the cut herself, but she had taken out her first aid kit for the cookies to fit in her bag. Now that she thought of it, it was a stupidly questionable decision. Without a needle and a thread―glue, even―she couldn't do much, so she had to ask for help.
Astrid, one of the maids, found her tangled up in bloodstained bedsheets in the morning. The wound was nowhere near deadly, no important veins or arteries had been harmed―yet Astrid panicked at the sight of red. Arabella was taken to the healing chamber where nurses had closed the wound with a golden thread that seemed to blend with the skin. The whole procedure was painless, she didn't feel a thing, not even a slight tingle.
And now here she was, body covered in a light dress with gold details; her hair braided back with loose curls around her face. She felt like a character taken out from a fairytale or perhaps she was the one who had been shoved inside one. Either way, she felt like royalty. The tail of the dress swayed along the polished floor while she walked alongside the Allfather himself. Odin had requested the maids to guide her to the gardens as soon as they finished getting her ready.
"You must have a plethora of questions occupying your mind right now, I assume." Odin was not what the girl had envisioned. He was playful. Laidback, even. "Let's start from the beginning of the story, shall we? I would've prepared a play for you, it would've been far more interesting. But sadly there wasn't enough time, you caught me off guard."
A play? What the hell? She thought as her hand mindlessly played with the small flower she had picked from the bush at the entrance of the garden.
"Eons ago, the Queen and I had our youngest child, a daughter named Freya. She was light itself, loved by all our people, cherished by the universe. The stars dangled from her feet and the sun adorned her head. Freya was a goddess worshipped by every Asgardian and she made it her duty to protect them. But as fate would have it, she fell in love―not with a being as divine as her, but with a mortal man."
Why was he telling her all this?
"The man was nowhere near worthy of even standing near her, yet Freya gave up everything for him." Odin picked a golden flower from the bush and gave it to the girl.
