Into The Heart of Darkness (Among the Asgardians Pre-sequel)

Chapter 2: Faith

At the observatory waited Frey, his long, blond hair blowing in the slight breeze, framing his pixie-like face in its embrace. “Welcome home, niece. Hello, senator Lokison. I trust the battle was a success?”

Kathryn grunted and rolled her eyes. It wasn’t Frey’s business how the battle ended. He was the god of peace. War was not his concern. “It depends upon your definition of success,” she replied.

“Darling Freya, you never fail to make me chuckle,” he laughed.

“She’s told you not to call her that,” Nari said peevishly, offering Kathryn his arm as they exited the observatory and set off down the rainbow bridge.

“Forgive me, Senator Coulson,” he amended.

“No need to be so formal,” Kathryn hissed, “and that isn’t my last name. Why can’t you call me by who I really am?”

“You have a mortal name. The mortals are insignificant scum! Why would you want to be called by one of their names?”

“Because my father is mortal and he is one of the bravest men I know.”

“But he is mortal scum. You’re his bastard child! But of course, I forgot your great love for them. You married one, for Odin’s sake! His ring still graces your finger! Ah, you and Thor. So misguided. What is it about the mortals that fascinates the gods so?”

Nari growled and pulled a knife out of his armor, holding it to Frey’s throat. “Do not speak ill of Kathryn or I will kill you. For a peacemaker, you incite a hellish amount of arguing.”

“Nari,” Kathryn sighed. “Let him go. I’m fine.” Her thoughts turned to herself. Though Kathryn appeared merely annoyed on the outside, the mention of Jacob’s ring sent her into a huge panic attack inside. She had to get back to Folkvang now, before she lost it. Red lights flashed and warning bells sounded inside her head, but she forced her exterior to remain a flat, blank mask and to appear calm. Home was the place to fall to pieces.

“Why are you here, Frey?” Nari asked, stowing the knife back into his cloak.

“I came to invite you to a victory feast,” he sneered. “I thought we might celebrate the peace that has at last fallen over the nine realms. Thor and the warriors have already consented to attend, as has the Lady Sif, Odin and Frigga, and even your darling friend, Algrim.” Frey looked at Kathryn and chuckled.

Her eyes went wide. “Algrim? Why? He’s just a prison guard.”

“Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that he is the son of Volstagg.”

“Algrim is Volstagg’s son?” The shock rolled off Kathryn in waves.

“Algrim is his bastard, yes. The boy’s mother was employed by a whorehouse, if you catch my drift,” Frey laughed. “That is why he is only a member of the prison guard and not one of the guild of warriors, as his father is.”

“You bastard. If I want to be friends with Algrim, I will. You’re not my father, Frey. You can’t tell me who to be friends with.” Kathryn turned away from her uncle in disgust and pulled Nari after her.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“The tavern,” she replied. “I need a drink.”

On the way into town, Kathryn thought about Algrim. They had met during her many visits to Loki’s cell. Algrim was one of Loki’s guards. He had always been kind to her and was good to her when she was emotionally drained. His personality reminded her a lot of Clint (a pang of sadness hit her gut at the thought of the bowman), and so the two had begun a friendship. It was nice to know that not all of the guards would treat her like dirt because she was not only a half-human bastard, but also a former slave. They taunted her for continuing to dress in her old slave’s tunics instead of dressing in the fine clothes of a senator. Not just any senator, but a goddess to boot. Kathryn had her motives for not dressing like a goddess, and they were not selfish ones meant to gain votes.