Ghost • Klaus Mikaleson

19. The Trial

"And what are you here to petition?" Gullvig asked looking up at the ceiling of her once modern penthouse.

The torchlight cast dark shadows across her face. She laid in her chair, her feet dangling off the edge as her head relaxed in the palms of her hands. Her penthouse that was pristine and as clean as a hospital room was now turned into something that looked like a medieval dungeon. Stacked stones replaced the white painted walls and the pictures and memorabilia. The white tiled floor was replaced by the same stone and the windows mysteriously disappeared eloping the room into complete darkness, the only source of light was coming from the intimidating touches that lined the walls.

The young man that stood in front of Gullvig placed his hands behind his back and bowed down to her. "Your darkness, I've come to plead for another protected."

"And what's wrong with your old one?" Gullvig asked lazily.

"N-nothing," the young man stuttered. He pushed his dark curls out of his face, "It's just that he never listens to me. He never does what he is told. I'm afraid he's turning light."

Gullvig moved her head to look at him. She sported black curls today with icy blue eyes, with her appearance constantly changing, it was hard to keep up with her. "Well, do your job at a dark protector."

"It's not that easy your darkness," the man said, "I've protected many before, and he's not like any of them."

"So? Enjoy the challenge," Gullvig huffed "Unless you're not up for it. Then I have any easier task for you. You can be Hel's personal servant. I'm sure she'd love a handsome lad like yourself."

"Hel?" the boy's eyes widened, "But that's for the dead. The bad..."

"And you're not bad?" Gullvig questioned, "Last I checked you worked for me."

The man shook his head, "No, it's for the dead."

"And you're already dead sweetie," Gullvig said, "But you soon will no longer exist if you're in my presence for a moment longer. I want you to go back to your protected and change him, got it?"

The man nodded and turned swiftly on his heels. "One more thing, Eirik. If you fail, you will end up in Hel anyway scrubbing the skulls along the banks."

The large wooden door closed with a bang as the guards shut it quickly behind Eirik. "Why do you even have them?" Ragna asked looking at the large men in armor.

"Decoration," Gullvig answered swinging her legs back up over her large black throne.

Ragna sat beside her in a less conspicuous seat. Her hands folded in her lap as she stared off toward the door. "What's next?"

"We're done with petitions," Gullvig said, "Now to the fun part."

"You think this is fun?" Ragna sighed.

"Better get used to it," Gullvig smirked, "I'm soon handing you the crown."

"Is it all really necessary?" Ragna asked, "I mean the entire room, the guards, the throne, the pleads. Can't they just do their job"

"Not everyone can be as good as a protector as you Ragna," Gullvig chuckled, "These are our people, they need to be ruled and looked over. There needs to be some type of government."

Ragna placed her chin in her hand, "But how am I suppose to rule over all of these protectors but protect my own?"

"Easy, I do it," Gullvig said, "He's done so well he's a presidential candidate now."

Ragna rolled her eyes, "And why do they call you your darkness? Why not just Gullvig?"

"Because they are peasants compared to us," Gullvig told her, "They actually look up to us, you know. A little moral never hurt anyone."