Emprise [Fólkvangr End, Book 2][Loki Fanfiction]

Chapter Twenty-One - Hlæja

Author's Note: Holler if you hear me! Coincidentally, the title of the new Tupac musical. That's a real thing. Tupac and I have the same birthday. Well, had. If you want to get technical. Okay, WOW, this is irrelevant. Now, I know there's been some confusing, and things will get clearer if they haven't already. I have to say though, if you're skimming, you're going to miss important stuff. And I'm sorry about that, it's just the way I write that the details are important. Also, this chapter sees the immediate introduction of a new character who I am using in my own way, though he is an established Marvel character. So just know that his backstory has been slightly altered and anyway we will get more into him as the story goes on! Okay, that's a lot, and so hopefully you guys enjoy! All my love!

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Chapter Twenty-One - Hlæja, or Laugh

Ronan rises from the rubble around him with a grunt, brushing the dirt from his armor with his unharmed hand. He takes in his surroundings with a smirk as he pulls his hood down low over his face. He lifts his head again towards the sky, grimacing as the portal above his head closes.

He lifts his middle finger to the sky as he mutters, “Perfect,” seemingly to no one in particular. He notices the blood on his hand and he wipes it off on his pants, inhaling sharply as his wounded palm makes contact with the rough fabric. He grits his teeth as he flexes the fingers of his right hand. He shudders as he recalls the sound of the whip cracking through the air, wrapping around his hand as he tried to deflect the beating. He was foolish.

His head snaps to the side as he hears the distinct sound of footsteps headed towards him. He stands his ground and waits, presuming that his entrance will have caused more attention than desired. But there’s his Master for you…always one for a little bit of showmanship. And brutality.

“What in the name of—?” Frey begins but the words freeze up in his throat the moment the towering alien lays his eyes upon Frey. Frey takes in the sight of the thing, standing before them, easily seven feet tall, clad in worn armor and leather, a green hood pulled up over his head. What little of his skin that is exposed is clearly blue, and under the shadow of his hood Frey can make out two distinctive black markings on his face. Jotunn, then?

“Greetings, mortals,” Ronan says, his voice deep and commanding. 

“Uhh…” Gerðr mumbles, just as stunned as Frey. Ronan’s attention flickers over to her now and he takes a step towards the pair who in turn, take a step back. 

Ronan rolls his eyes, exasperated with the tiny beings before him. “I have come seeking the one you call Valkyrie.”

“On what matters? Who are you?” Frey inquires. Ronan crosses his arms over his chest as Odin’s guard comes loudly onto the scene, holding their swords and bows in their hands. Thor steps forward from the mass of men and scrutinizes the unfamiliar giant before him. 

“I am Ronan, Supreme Accuser of the Kree Empire, of the planet Hala, and I have been given direct orders to speak with the one you know as Valkyrie,” he rattles off like any other banal subject matter. Thor approaches him, signaling for the men to lower their arms. 

“I am Thor, son of Odin, welcome to Asgard,” he greets with a warm, but cautious smile. Ronan does not reciprocate the gesture, but merely gazes down upon the god Thor with pure apathy. “On whose orders have you come here seeking Valkyrie?”

Now Ronan smiles. “Unfortunately, that is only something I may share with Valkyrie. I would appreciate it if you would show me to her company so I am not forced to linger here much longer.”