I tapped my fingers on the armrest of Odin’s.. well.. my throne.

Oh, to rule, with that of an iron fist.. ‘Tis addicting, I shall admit. I have finally retrieved my throne, and I will never let anyone take it away from me. Not again— not when I, Hel, am the rightful heir to the hierarchy of Asgard.

After years of fighting, centuries of banishment, millennia of hate… I am victorious.

I had sipped mead whilst planning my expansion of Asgard when my.. somewhat reluctant— impudent, if you as me— guards brought me one of the oh-so feisty prisoners. A rather gaunt young maiden.. what to do, what to do..

— “Kneel. Before your queen.” I say in a stiff tone of voice, leaving no room for negotiation, my eyes narrowing, trying to hide the fact I had begun bubbling with contempt.

— “Today, girl.”