Freyah marched through the deafening crowds of her Brother's soldiers, elbowing, pushing, fighting her way to the raised dias where her Brother, Dagr, sat upon his Iron Throne.
She stepped upon the dais, glaring at her bearded brother with burning hatred. He was a tall man, his wide set frame rippled with muscle, arms as big as tree trunks. Perhaps he looked like a King to these soldiers who could barely hear themselves over the metal clang of swords, axes, hammers, To Freyah, he was no king. He was a coward.
Boldly, she balled up saliva on her tongue and spat, just barely missing his elk hide boots. Dagr turned his mighty head to look upon his young sister, barely two moons past seventeen, and stood up to face her. He stepped forward heavily on his right foot as all the soldiers fell quiet, intrigued by what was about to happen.
"Freyah You dare walk in here, the Great Hall, and spit on your King?" He bellowed, his deep, mighty voice echoing off the high stone walls of the hall.
Freyah brushed her rust coloured braid over her shoulder and glared into his eyes defiantly. Turning on her heel to face the congregation of warriors.
"This is your King! The Almighty Dagr, son of Agnarr The Great! While he sits, cowering on his Iron Throne Of Lies, as the Svartálfar assemble their armies, waiting to march upon our soils once again! This Almighty Dagr who stands before you, He is no King!" Freyah's voice filled the great hall. Warriors were clad with armour and weapons. Most of them with great mahogany coloured beards, some in hefty braids, some free to assume the space of these large men's chins.
Freyah turned and looked at her older brother and spat, with venom in her voice, "You Coward. You do not deserve to rule while our father lays in a watery grave, caused by the very beings who march upon us once again." Holding her head high, Freya stormed out of the great hall, her bronze sword swinging on her hip. This time, the crowds of warriors created a path for the Freya, their eyes clinging to the girl who dare defy the king. Freya swung open the doors of the Great Hall and trudged through the great doors, slamming them behind her.
"I don't care if Dagr is going to be a fool, That's fine. I don't need him anyways. The Svartálfar will pay for what they have done." She thought to herself.
YOU ARE READING
A Crimson Dance
FantasyFreya, Daughter Of Agnarr is stuck under the rule of her foolish brother Dagr, who neglects his duties as a king to protect his nation from the enemies that slaughtered their father. But that isn't about to stop Freya from avenging her Father's deat...
