Born of War

Chapter One: Asgard

The golden floors of the palace shined with the morning light, giving the already ethereal building an untouchable like atmosphere. The hallway that lead to the throne of Odin himself was covered in relics from old worlds and numerous weapons from different cultures were suspended in glowing cases to preserve them. Enormous tapestries that were crafted by the most skilled hands hung high on the stone walls; lighter ones depicting scenes from great wars where warriors fought bravely- Valkyries coming to take them to Valhalla or Fólkvangr upon their deaths. Others showing those that died with no dignity, the ground opening to swallow them whole and damn them to eternity in Helheim as slaves under the mighty goddess Hel.

The Allfather sits high upon a seat crafted from obsidian, glass spears jutting from the backing. There are intricate carvings of symbols and phrases that litter the surface of the throne, plush cushioning's the color of dark blood made for a comfortable area. Two large, black, beady eyed ravens are perched upon a clear replica of Gungnir, squawking occasionally to fill the silence. Women half nude sit around the King and attendants stand at nearly every pillar, waiting to be directed to suit him. It was all picture perfect, as if they were waiting to be painted. That is until the towering doors of the room burst open, causing everyone to be drawn out of their bliss, easy, state. Metal bangs against stone in force as muddy boots click across the glossy flooring without a care, the owner leaving prints in her wake.

"You could at least show a bit of respect when entering, a bow every now and then would be nice." Odin's deep voice carried down the hall, a squawk coming from one of the birds as if in agreement. The woman continued her way, feet squishing as she did so and coming to a halt at the steps that lead to the throne of the ancient deity. She looks carefully at the girls fawning over the man with a raise of a sharp brow, judging. The maidens giggle at the quip made before a strong hand raises to silence them and motions for them to leave. They all stand in a shuffle of clothing, each touch one of his shoulders before filing out of the hall.

"Of course, grandfather." She purred once ridded of the insolent maids, left only with him and the attendants. Dropping to one knee in front of him slowly, she dips her head.

"Rise. What is it you seek, child?" He questions, not often does the woman pay him visits like this. She stands tall again, footing planted firmly but her teeth grind at the term used, she plasters on her best smile and pretends like it does not bother her.

"I heard of a council meeting taking place soon, I want to attend." The fiery redhead clasps her hands behind her back underneath the fur cloak that adorns her shoulders and drapes down. She raises her strong chin to emit power and defiance all while looking into the King's one honey colored eye.

"Absolutely not." Odin shoots down her request as soon as the words exit her mouth, leaning back in his chair.

"And why is that? I can feel the war brewing, grandfather. It is not something you can hide from me." She fires back, brows knitting together and jaw clenching in anger. Hands coming to ball at her waist, her bravado quickly slipping from her fingers.

"I know I cannot hide it from you." He says calmly. "That is not what I am trying to do."

"Then why do you not allow me to attend? I can be of use, strategy and skill is what I am blessed with." The girl is confused. "I have taken every lesson offered with stride, I have studied the texts that you and father have given me. Yet, every time something of significance comes about, I am not allowed to participate." Her voice raises slightly without her consent and her feet move on their own accord, taking her two steps closer to Odin. The attendants look warily to each other at the goddess's change of tone and action, worried with the reaction this will bring from the King. All he does however is sigh deeply, a hand coming to rub at his thick beard, fingers turning the beads braided in.