One of those consequences can today be found hanging out with the king, reading in the library, or doing other repetitive activities under the eyes of Asgard. She is one of the few consequences that can be named - in fact, her name is known by everyone in the kingdom; but unlike her Creator's name, she is not feared by the ones who know her.
The name's Star. I am the physical proof of the deal previously mentioned, in case you did not notice after that dramatic introduction.
Growing up as just an heir for Sabrina had its highs and lows - ever since I was a child (or what you would call one) I learned everything I know about witchcraft and the Hell that I would once rule. Of course, I was mostly treated like a tool; so, when the war happened and Asgard took me in like a "hostage" to enrage Her, I did not mind staying here.
Loki - or Father, as I call him - immediately noticed me and took me under his wing. He helped to create me, after all.
Now that Father took over Asgard by exiling Odin and taking his identity, being the kingdom's princess is my full time hobby.
Walking along the castle's hallways is one of my favourite things of this life; the sun is always shining, its gleam making the golden walls shine for most of the day. Birds fly around, softly landing on the flowery plants that give the gardens their strong scent. The obnoxious sounds made by my armour may ruin the atmosphere for some people, but they just remind me of the training I am going through to fully become the princess I am meant to be.
What a lovely time to be asgardian.
Turning around the corner, I find Father making his way to me in his Odin clothing. He looks silly, and I have told him before, but he still believes he needs to keep up a facade for the people - even though every single asgardian definitely knows it's him.
—There you are! —he grabs my arm, starting to lead me outside, —The play is about to start and there is a crowd already. Change that armour of yours. —
With the magic he taught me I turn my armour into a comfortable dress and make my hair look nicer. I see he shapeshifts into Odin and chuckle, still not getting used to seeing him like that. —Looking dashing, old man. —
Father rolls his single eye. —He looked uglier than this. I am an upgrade. —he looks at me for a moment, —That's a nice colour on you. —
—Thank you. —
We get to the community theatre, being received with bows from the guards and peasants, the soft hum of the minds of them all being ignorable, but present. There is a fancy couch waiting for us and servants holding any snack or drink we could desire. After some overly dramatic words from Father, we sit down, and the self-absorbed play begins.
Most peasants accept the fake Odin as their king with pleasure. Before Father took over, Asgard was a kingdom based on wars, violence, and control. If there was drama within the royal family, it was everyone else's problem. Now, Father's way of taking the throne was not exactly... Legal, some may say. Nonetheless, it has been the best years for Asgard. It is a time for the kingdom to thrive in arts, science, and knowledge.
Very frequently, Father writes plays that are publicly presented (most of them being love letters to himself). Once, he even wrote one specifically for me to play the lead. Thanks to it, everyone found out about "Odin"'s new daughter.
What do asgardians think of me? That is a question I don't quite have an answer for.
I will admit, I kind of showed up out of nowhere as part of the royal family. Father never stops spoiling me, and I do not interact with people a lot - I don't need to, for I have enough with my father. Even though I try being as nice as possible the few times I talk with others, there is a chance they see me as weird, or an outcast - maybe mean sometimes. Hopefully, this will all change the day I become their queen.
Also, I don't think they know I am not completely asgardian. I hope they don't. Let's say I pass as Loki's daughter; my natural physical form looks more like Sabrina, but thanks to magic, I can make myself look similar to Father - tall, pale, with his signature black hair and green eyes.
A standing ovation snaps me back to reality, the questionable play finally coming to an end. I take a sip of my wine as Father keeps praising his own work. A blonde man comes out of the crowd holding a strange item, and kneels, making me raise an eyebrow.
The man speaks; —Father. —
Thor Odinson. I take a longer sip of wine. This will be interesting.
Father mutters a foul word, and tries his best to act like the Allfather. —My son! Thor has returned! —he smiles at the crowd. —Greetings, my boy. —
They get closer, but keep talking loud enough for me to hear. —It's an interesting play. What's it called? —Thor asks.
—The Tragedy of Loki of Asgard. The people wanted to commemorate him. —
—Indeed they should. —he looks at Father's statue (yes, he commissioned one,) —I like that statue. A lot better looking than he was when he was alive, though. A little less weasely. Less greasy maybe. —
I laugh, way louder than I should. Father gives me a look, but Thor ignores me, too concentrated on him.
They keep rambling about the object Thor brought, how he has been dreaming about the demise of Asgard, and so on, so forth. The Ragnarok; a popular tale in our culture based on the prediction of some norn many, many years ago.
In a moment, Thor throws his hammer and grabs Father, making me and the warriors stand on guard. Nothing will stop Mjolnir as it returns to his hand. It is obvious what Thor wants; and if he does not get it, I don't know if he will actually hurt Father. But, whatever he tries to do, I have a blast of energy prepared.
Father gives in, —Alright! I yield! —
He finally turns back into his normal form, clothing including, and jumps away from Thor, who grabs the hammer with no hesitation. Another man runs out of the crowd, looking like a mess and a half; Skurge. The most pathetic Bifrost guardian Asgard has ever seen.
—Behold! —he gasps, ridiculously, —Thor... Odinson! —
I roll my eyes. Father is just as annoyed. —You had one job! —he looks sternly at the man, —Just the one. —
Thor threatens Father, demanding to know the whereabouts of Odin (I will give you a hint; he is in a place for old men.) They keep arguing like before, seemingly forgetting they are surrounded by people. After some minutes, they cool down, and Father dismisses everyone. Thor starts walking to the Bifrost with no other words, and Father walks up to me, defeated.
He sighs. —We will go get Father. —
—In Midgard? —I frown,
—In Midgard. —he nods. —It will be quick, you will not need to replace me. Just... Make sure Skurge does not keep being stupid. —
If I am being honest, I don't want to stay. I have always wanted to check Midgard out, and what better way than doing it in a quick visit? Asgard can be left without a king and a princess for some hours.
—May I go with you? —
Even though he always seems to spoil me, he shakes his head. —No. I don't want Thor nor Father anywhere near you. —he brushes some of my hair back, —Maybe after I take care of this. I promise I will show you Midgard, Starchild. —
I nod, and he leaves for the Bifrost.
Walking along the castle's hallways feels pretty lonely when the king is not present, and the servants are away, wondering what is happening with the royal family. The birds are chipping and the wind is blowing, sure, but it's nothing compared to the usual sound of Father being dramatic.
I might be too dependent on him. After all, we only truly have each other. Without him around there is nobody I can trust, nobody I can talk to, and nobody who knows me.
The royal library is completely empty, as usual. There are no books left for me to read; not even from the prohibited section. All that I could do has been done a dozen times already. It is in moments like these that I notice the slight repetitiveness of Asgard.
I am bored.
In the section of the realms, I look for the book about Midgard. Earth. A very diverse planet connected to us by the Bifrost - that is, also, where Father has the worst reputation.
This could be fun.
Changing my dress into my armour, I start walking to the Bifrost. I am going to go and take a look; see if the books are true to reality. In the way, I could try and find Father, joining him in that small adventure of theirs. I just feel like changing the routine, you know?
The Bifrost is being guarded by two warriors, who apparently made Skurge clean up his mess. I giggle at this absurdity.
—Your Majesty, —one of them says as they all bow down, —Did not expect to see you here. —
I shrug. —The castle got boring. —walking closer to the Bifrost's sword, I inspect it curiously. I had never seen it from this close. —Do any of you know how to use this? Other than Skurge. —
Both warriors nod. —Yes, Heimdall taught us long ago. Why? —
Heimdall... Haven't heard that name in a long time. I never actually met him. —I'm going to Midgard. —
—Do you have the king's permission? —
—Of course. —
The portal is opened, and with a smirk, I enter the Bifrost.