Loki's Daughter, Mortem and Mischief

Chapter Fifty Four

HELA'S POINT OF VIEW
"You severely underestimated yourself, your highness," Tyriel said as he loaded a fresh stag onto the back of his horse. An arrow-my arrow, was shot cleanly between the animal's sound king antlers. It was a winning shot in the eyes of anyone who know even a bit about archery. "I doubt I have a single archer in my regiment who could boast such a talent as yours," he added.

"I doubt that's true," I laughed as Tyriel mounted his steed once again. "And if it is, I'm afraid I must command you for more military training in that division," I teased.

"I'll set up training for my archers as soon as you promise to come out and teach them yourself," he bargained, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk. I simply rolled my eyes, gently whipping my reigns to prompt my horse into a trot. Tyriel quickly followed after me.

"The flattery all goes straight to my head, Tyriel. I already have quite the reputation for being full of myself, I would prefer you not add to it," I warned coyly. Tyriel laughed as he brought his horse to my side. "It's not flattery if it's all true," he countered.

"I'm going to have to shove you off your horse if you keep that up," I threatened, a smirk growing on my face. "Oh, so not only is the Queen self-centered, she's mean too?" Tyriel teased. Though it was an insult, it was a much better change of pace to the constant compliments. I wanted to know Tyriel, I certainly did not want to keep hearing about myself.

"Oh, yes. Quite mean. A bitch even," I replied with a shrug. I had heard the most awful names thrown at me, whether by the guards or even common towns people. Not everyone was so...enthusiastic about my conquest of the galaxy alongside thanos. Furthermore, many weren't too fond of what they deemed my resting bitch face. On all accounts, I certainly wasn't as beloved as my mother, nor Odin for that matter. "And she swears," Tyriel muttered, failing to conceal his smug smirk. I rolled my eyes.

"But what about you? I can't imagine that you're the kindest on the battlefield, or to your troops even. You're the commander of the Berserkers, afterall," I said. Tyriel nodded.

"We don't have the reputation for being soft or...particularly nice, do we? I would say that...I'm a fair leader. I do what's necessary, even if common opinion is against it. To be quite frank, your highness, I'm a colossal dick when it comes to my soldiers but somehow, it all works out," Tyriel said. I couldn't contain my giggles as I listened to him.

"Really?" I struggled to answer. "Oh, yes. I'm quite loud, insults slip out of my mouth by the dozen. But we all have a good time at the end of the day. As far as I've heard, I'm generally well liked amongst the men but perhaps I don't have as keen of an ear for rumors as you do," he explained further.

"If your unanimous election to your post proves anything, I'm sure your regiment likes you," I assured him. Tyriel smiled, bowing his head in thanks.

"By the way, you don't have to...call me your highness," I said softly. Tyriel raised a sharp balck brow. "Then what shall I call you instead? They royal bitchiness? Ruler of the Dead? I hear you have an affinity for chocolate, shall it be Queen of CoCo?" he teased.

"Hela is just fine," I replied, stifling my laughter. "Hela? Shall it be Hela, Queen of the Nine Realms and most gorgeous girl to grace the face of the earth?" he asked, I shook my head no. "Just Hela, please. I shall grow quiet tired of you if I have to listen to all of that each time you address me," I replied.

"Alright then, Hela it is," he said with a gleaming smile. His teeth were a stark white, sharpened and aligned to perfection. His eyes twinkled in the late afternoon white. They were a rich brown, nearly red like autumn leaves. I had to tear my gaze from him in order to not get caught up in it all.

"So tell me, Tyriel, why did you even consider my father's offer to court me? Was it for money? Perhaps you were looking for a promotion," I asked as we came across a small stream for our horses to drink from. The scene looked straight out of a Monet, the grass so perfectly green despite the trees being bare from winter. I could've stayed in that glenn for hours.

He simply shook his head. I narrowed my eyes at him as I slid off my horse. "Truly, it was out of fear for your father. I was quite worried that I would be turned into a work if I denied him," Tyriel replied honestly.

"You weren't even looking to be wed then?" I asked as I watched Tyriel dismount his steed. "Not necessarily but...valhalla blesses those who are wed, those who find their match. I figured why not? What harm could be done by saying yes?" he replied. I had forgotten how the Berserkers, though closer to warmongers than priests, were quite religiously devout. They fought in honor of those who came before them and had a strong reverence for the dead and also for fate. It made sense that Tyriel would simply go where fate took him.

"But...by the look you had when you entered the garden this morning, I assume that you dont want to be wed," Tyriel said as he sat besides me in the grass. I simply shrugged. "To be truthful, I don't know what I want...at all. Not anymore, at least. I have everything I could possibly want and yet..." I began but cut myself off. I didn't want to reveal my emotions to Tyriel. It was far too soon.

"And yet?" he asked, gently putting his hand over mine. I pursed my lips, stopping for a second as I admired the scenery in front of us. "I feel incomplete," I finished.

Tyriel nodded. "Forgive me if this sounds too...brutish but, Hela-I don't think any marriage or relationship will fill that hole. You have to find it within yourself to be...complete," he said softly.

"I know...that's just a lot of work," I joked, smiling a bit as I side-eyed Tyriel. He rolled his eyes and fell backwards in a chuckling heap.

"You are a piece of work, your highness," he laughed wildly. I rolled my eyes and pushed him away from me. "I'm well aware," I replied.

-

As I returned home, both my mother and father were waiting for me at the garden gates. Tyriel had dropped me off at the stables and we departed from there.

"Well? How was it?" my mother asked expectantly, she had a warm smile on her face-excited to hear about my day. My father on the other hand, looked sickly and pale as if he couldn't bear to hear how it all went.

"Amazing," I replied happily. Their eyes both widened. "Do you believe you'll marry him?" my mother questioned further.

"God, no, well not anytime soon at least," I answered as I walked past them. I could hear my parents erupt into whispers as soon as they believed I was out of earshot. Oh, how I wished I knew what they were saying.

As I walked back to my quarters, I passed the dungeons entry way. My dungeon immediately twisted into a knot as I contemplated going down to meet with Grimnir. I did need to check on his wounds...

I shook the thought away and took a deep breath before I marched onwards. I had enough of boys for the day.