His Queen | Book 1

Two: The Rainbow Bridge

The stories say Asgard is built on clouds, gushing oceans that turn to waterfalls falling into space. The underside a massive concave of crystals glowing blue. Its structures erected in gold, and a rainbow bridge running through the realm. It sits flat among galaxies and the beauties of space. A magnificent place for the ruling realm.

It is a bright glorious day Asgard. A new day. Without the overhang of war or certain doom. The streets are in celebration, the mead and ale stocks are being drunk dry, and the feasts would continue for weeks to come. Heimdall watches with a smile on his face. A man of smooth black skin clad in shining gold armour, red leather, and Yggdrasil on the chest piece. The branches curled around an orange gem. An Einherjar helmet to frame his face and two pillars as horns.

His piercing golden eyes glimmer with something other worldly from where he stands at the doorway of his observatory. Sword clutched with both hands in front of him. He takes in a salty breath. His eyes are set on something else. Heimdall turns his head slightly where he can see over the crashing edges of Asgard.

He looks there for a moment, at the water's violent rush to fall off world. He listens to the waves as they crash up the sides of the rock formation which his golden observatory sits and its calming to him.

A massive ship rises from the depths of space, silver, long and sleek. The observatory rumbles as it rises over the waters of Asgard. Water sprays over the rainbow bridge. It turns slowly, pointing towards Asgard. Smaller cruisers like it surround the ship as an escort. The ship moves across the skies as it ascends higher, moving slow. Heimdall can see they pose no threat to Asgard.

The Vanir Fleet.

Only one portion of it.

The engines rumble with a soothing hum, the thrusters burn a soft blue as they began the landing process. The fins, small and metal, either side of the ships, turns upwards, folding in like a birds wing. Where the ship hovers high over the bridge, the water beneath still flurries beneath the power of the mother ship.

Heimdall begins his stride across the bridge, each footfall sent a ripple of energy though the bridge. As gatekeeper of the realm, Odin had asked him to see the Vanir first into the realm. He kept a watchful eye on his people. Some celebrated, welcoming the image of the fleet, while others cowered in unknown fear. They had a right to fear. The end of the war was not a foreseeable future. Both sides are wary.

Even with the end of war in sight, both Vanir and Aesir still had an unspoken kindling hate for each other. Centuries of war and loss are not easily forgiven by some. Like all ages, it has to come to end at some point.

Heimdall is joined by the docks by warriors and Einherjar alike. The golden warriors lined the cobblestone plaza shield and sword in hand. They stood proud and tall. Curious Asgardians crowded behind the line of guards, eager to see the new princess.

A small skiff departed from the mothership hovering high above Asgard's sky, and it descended. It resembled a boat, sleek and silver and boring the Vanir emblem. The crowds let their praise be heard as the Vanir landed in the plaza. King Iwaldi and Queen Freya stepped off the skiff hand in hand, both silver and gold in every way, and they greeted the people of Asgard. Their robes and gowns swept gracefully behind them. Freya blew kisses to the crowd accepting roses and flowers and other gifts. Iwaldi held his head high proud to be beside his wife.

Sigvard skips of the skiff pounding and leaping like a boy who received his first kiss from a girl. He smiled with a handsome smile and waved to the Asgardians. He greeted them with a loud voice and even made the girls sway. The Silver Prince of Vanaheim could not wipe the smile from his cheeks. The shouts from the crowd lifted him, ascended him to the heavens. He loved it every time the people showed him love. He could bound across the stars.