Come with Me

Ros could hear the shouts of anger coming from the palace high above her, despite the roar of the waves that crashed at her feet. She had heard the same shouting countless times before. Cries of rage, cries of sadness, cries that she could recognize because she knew what it felt like to explode that way. Who was angry and so sad, she didn't know for sure but she had an idea. Her life's path would never allow her access to the palace though, so it would likely remain a mystery.

With no family left and no place to call home, she was one of Asgard's cast-offs, her father a casualty of war and her mother killed by invading criminals. Her father taught her to survive from childhood, which was the only lasting benefit of being his offspring. Everything else he'd ever bestowed on her was abuse and sorrow. She didn't cry when he died, for her soul had been freed. He would no longer hold power over her.

Without the presence of her tyrant father to protect her and her mother, their home was quickly taken by the powers of those that were ruthless and willing to do anything to survive. They couldn't fight them off and in turn her mother was killed. All that Ros could do was run and run she did. She ran from the shadows of Asgard, the dungeons that were her former home. She ran until she made it to the golden shores at the base of the drop off near the palace. A hidden cave became her new home, safe from harm, a place for the vagrant she'd become.

When nights became unbearably chilled, she'd make a meager fire, enough to warm her but not so as to attract any attention. When she hunted for food she'd do so under cover of twilight or daybreak, the deceptive change of light allowing her to remain unseen. She'd be killed on sight if she was discovered hiding away deep below the palace, let alone hunting the animals near there.

Early morning came and she scaled the rock cliff's face and lowered herself into the sand. Her necessities were strapped to her back and she readied her spear as she waded into the calm water of the lagoon. She'd done it countless times before so even though it was quite routine, that morning felt different. The air around her felt charged, still and quiet yet not completely at rest.

He regarded her from a distance, watching her hunt just like he had so many mornings before that. In her solitude, she remained strong, resourceful; things he wished he was. She was not only beautiful, but a force to be reckoned with.

A flash of silver at her feet caught her attention so she loosed her spear and with one shot, she acquired a supply of food that would carry her on for days. She dragged the aquatic creature onto the shore and started slicing into it so it would be easier for her to manage.

While still at task carving up her food supply, her keen hearing picked up the sound of footfall in close proximity. What she could carry, she gathered before dashing across the beach toward the cave. Her reflexes were typically second to none, however, nothing could prepare her for the dark magic that fell upon her as she sprinted across the sand.

She'd been suspended in time, motionless and with no ability to react even though she could see, hear and feel everything and yet nothing at the same time. Her scrambled mind thought not of fright or flight but more of curiosity. Then she saw him. The young prince, wrapped in a dark cloak. The sad prince. He'd captured her with his magic.

"Release me," she pleaded to him with her mind, hoping that her inner voice might connect through the swirling fog of her paralyzed state. "Please?"

He relaxed his hands, relinquishing his power over her and she collapsed in a heap on the sand. He stood above her and watched her rib cage contract and expand as she gasped for air.

"You're trespassing out here, you know?" He nudged her with the toe of his boot and she rolled over onto her back, lungs still dragging in air after the constriction he'd held her with. She was far more beautiful up close than he expected and his heart yearned for her. Her raven black hair was soaking wet and clinging to her shoulders; her skin, peppered with sand. Icy blue eyes regarded him cautiously.