ALL CHARACTERS AND SETTINGS ARE PROPERTY OF MARVEL INC. AND THEIR RESPECTIVE AFFILIATES.
I looked up the steps at Balder and took a deep breath. The dark throne room was almost menacing, the bright light like the lamp in an old interrogation scene in a detective noir.
“Thor has told me that you are the last in the line of Sigurd. Show me the ring,” he said, holding his hand out with fingers outstretched.
I walked up the steps and took the ring off, then held it out to him. He looked at it carefully, turning my fingers to look at it better. “Take it,” I said.
“I cannot lift it. It is forged of the same Uru metal as Thor's Mjolnir. Only those that are descended from Sigurd may lift it.”
“I heard his name was Sigfreid.”
“It is both, for there are many names in many places. Names matter not, as long as the wearer of the name is remembered.”
“Makes sense,” I shrugged.
“This ring was meant for a son, the son of warriors, not for a daughter. A burden I fear you will not easily bear. They will disregard you, mock you and shame you. For you are not what the son of Sigurd was expected to be.”
“Um, yeah, I guess if I was supposed to be a boy that I'm already breaking some rules,” I said, slipping the ring back on. Then I looked up. “Wait, expected? You mean people thought I was coming?”
“There was a. . . prophecy of sorts. Sigurd himself said that his blood would one day protect Asgard.”
“Ah, his blood. Not a boy.”
Imagine one day, someone you hardly knew told you that everyone else you didn't know, thought you were supposed to be a boy. I was boyish enough, it would have to do.
Balder's eyes lingered over my face, then my hair, and I wondered what kind of image I must have been projecting to him. He stood up and started down the stairs, and I followed. “Where are you going?” I asked.
“Thor will return soon. He will approach the Northern courtyard,” he said. “That is the way he often comes.”
“Oh, cool,” I said with a smile. Thor made all awkward situations less awkward. I heard sneaking, and turned to see Volstagg's gut jutting out from behind a corner. I giggled a little, and Balder glanced down at me.
“What is it?” he asked.
I looked at him and whispered, “we're being followed.”
Glancing backwards, he sighed and led me out of an entranceway onto a huge balcony. I hurried forward, looking over the edge, freaking myself out. I hurried away but landed against Balder, who set me straight with gentle hands on my arms.
“It is frightening the first time one stands here. I found myself a bit daunted as well. But do not look down,” he advised. “Look towards the horizon.”
I did as he said and stared out in awe, as a breeze ruffled my bangs. “Wow,” I muttered. “It's beautiful.”
“Yes. I had often wondered why Thor chose this place as the home of Asgard, but I see now. The mountains are just beyond, do you see them?”
“Yeah,” I answered. I closed my eyes as the cool breeze caressed my face and neck. Balder rested his hands flat against the wall that separated the balcony from a long fall to the ground. “So,” I said. “How long have you been king?” I asked.
“Not long.”
“Like it?” I asked.
His head whipped around to look at me with incredulous blue eyes, the same ones I dreamed of. I blushed and looked away, crossing my arms under my bust. “What did you ask?” he demanded.
“If. . . if you liked being king,” I repeated, shifting my shoulders uncomfortably. I shouldn't have asked that, should have kept my mouth shut.
“No one has asked me that before,” he said, his face relaxing just a bit. Apparently, he was still a little on his guard after the whole Loki thing.
“Oh, well, I did.”
He leaned against the wall and thought for a minute, then said, “I like it well enough. As much as one can enjoy the burden of being a king.”
“Yeah?”
“It is. . . a heavy responsibility.”
“I can imagine.”
“No you cannot. Why I speak to a child like you about these things is beyond my understanding,” he said suddenly, and I realized that the conversation had rammed itself straight into the ground. Why was it so hard to talk to him?
“Because I asked,” I reasoned.
“My lord!”
Balder looked up and so did I, as a bloodied messenger hurried at us. He collapsed, and Balder and I caught him just before he hit the ground. “Lord Balder, an attack!” he spat, along with blood that dripped onto my sneaker.
I gasped as something warm ran over my fingers. “You got him?” I asked Balder.
“Yes, but—Anthy!”
“Sorry!” I shouted as I disappeared into the hall. I ran towards the sounds of a fight, sounds I remembered from the Siege.
Fandral was locked in a swordfight with a single warrior, a man in black wearing a hood and helmet. Hogun ran up behind with a mace in his hands, but the black-clad warrior pushed away Fandral and struck Hogun on the head with the dull end of his sword.
I ran out and looked around, then snatched a long, thin sword from a downed fighter. “Hey! Tough guy!” I screamed.
The warrior looked at me, then laughed. “You? Is this what the great King Balder sends to defend his people? A child with a stolen sword?”
“I'm seventeen, not a child,” I said. “What do you want here?”
“I send a message from Lady Karnilla. Tell your king,” he started, before disappearing. Heads whipped around to look for him, but then he reappeared behind me, and there was a sharp pain on my arm, same spot as where Balder's sword had bit into me last month. His fingers held my neck, featherlight touches that revealed dark intentions. “Tell him that time is fleeting, and my lady is not patient.”
“Why don't you tell him yourself!?” I shouted.
I grapped his neck and shirt, even though it burned when I moved my arm, as a huge peal of thunder rang. Balder grabbed the warrior and threw him against the wall, then Mjolnir came down on the warrior's head, knocking him out without killing him.
“Anthy!” called Fandral, as he, Hogun and Volstagg hurried to gather around me.
“How could you do something so foolish!?” cried Volstagg, pulling me up into a hug that crushed me into his soft, squishy chest and gut. “For a moment, I thought you a dead. . . erm, lady!”
“I'm fine!” I squealed, “now stop squishing me!”
“Nay, allow Volstagg to embrace you, Anthy, for all of us,” said Thor. He looked a little mad, and a little proud. “Never charge into battle unprepared!” he warned half-heartedly.
“Aw come on!” I shouted mad even though I hadn't even received a proper scolding. “Did you think I'd just sit there and look pretty!?”
“Thor, again she has shown bravery in the face of fear,” said Balder. “Perhaps this must be encouraged rather than admonished.”
I turned to look at him after Volstagg set me down. “My Gunnhilde joined the Shield Maidens, perhaps. . . perhaps this is something that Anthy should consider as well?”
“The Shield maidens? Like Sif?”
“Nay. . .” said Thor. “The Shield Maidens would be too rigid for her. Anthy requires the freedom to--”
“Hold up,” I said. “An isolated incident with a creepy spy guy and we're talking shield maiden? It's just one--”
“Anthy, twice now you have risked yourself in the aid of Asgard,” interrupted Hogun. Apparently, this is as much as he ever talked, because of the weird looks everyone sent his way. “These things do not go unnoticed. No one is forcing you to do anything. But look at the facts before you decide that you are not worthy of becoming something that you are obviously suited for.”
There was a pause as everyone waited for Hogun to say something else. “That is all I have to say,” he said. “You may pick up your jaw, Fandral.”
“He is right, Anthy,” said Balder, recovering from his surprise. “Consider joining the Shield Maidens.”
Thor looked uncomfortable with the idea. I didn't even really know what a shield maiden did, or how they were trained. They just sounded really Amazonian, and I knew I couldn't handle that. “I'll think about it,” I said, and that seemed to be enough to break the tension in the air and satisfy those who were waiting for an answer. I looked around as warriors that had gathered to fight this mysterious enemy picked up their wounded brothers. They had been told to stay back as the warriors three dealt with the threat.
I followed Thor and Balder inside the castle again, and when we were a safe distance from prying ears, Thor put his hand on my shoulder. “Well done, little Anthy.”
I looked up at him and smiled, then gasped as the pain in my arm came back. “Ouch!”
He looked at me, and Balder turned back. “You are bleeding,” he noted, pulling a piece of cloth from a pack on his belt, slipping it around my arm and tying it. “Have Blake look at that. I have much to consider.”
Thor and he exchanged a nod, then Balder left us. “Who is Karnilla?” I asked.
“That is a question for another time. For now, Don Blake has business with his neighbors,” said Thor, as he gently urged me on, his hand on my back.
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