Page 50 of Thor

“We’ve finished, Princess. Are you sure you wouldn’t like us to braid it?”

Elle stood from the chair and walked back to the window. “No, thank you.”

“Then we will take our leave if you don’t need anything else.”

The volcano continued to spew forth its destruction. If she got lucky it would destroy Muspelheim.

The door opened and the two women’s footsteps traveled out the door as a heavy set of footsteps entered. She didn’t need to look to know that one of her father’s guards had come in to make sure she didn’t try anything. Not that she would, what was the point? The most she could do now was take what she’d learned from Thor and Val and try to make the best of what was about to happen to her.

* * *

In the greathall all the tables had been turned so an aisle made its way through the center of them to the head table where her father sat with Thadren. The only difference in the hall, besides the layout, was the addition of a familiar smaller silver throne that sat next to Thadren’s.

Mother’s throne.

She’d never been allowed to sit in it before. In fact, her father had hidden it away when she was young after seeing her playing on it once. She swallowed at the sight of it. She wondered if things would have turned out different for her if her mother had survived.

Elle stood in the doorway awaiting instruction. The familiar smell of men, sweat, meat, and fire made her stomach sour. The one good thing about leaving with Thadren would be that she wouldn’t be subjected to the foul odor of her father’s house anymore.

After a minute Thadren spotted her and stood. Her father turned his fiery gaze on her as well.

His guard prodded Elle in the back with his sword and Elle rounded on him.

“Do not touch me,” she said with enough venom to make Val proud.

The guard’s eyes narrowed, but she continued to stare straight at him, daring him to do something. Her magic swirled close to the surface ready for her command, but the man finally looked away and Elle turned back to the gathered crowd.

What a wedding day. The same men who’d always looked down on her. The same tables, food, and hall. Not a flower or piece of white cloth decorated the place to show that the day was more special than any other. In the dress Thadren had procured for her she felt considerably overdressed for her own wedding.

Surtr finally pushed to his feet, as did all the men. She assumed that was her cue to move. She took a deep breath and strode forward, head up, eyes straight on her father. He studied her with a mixture of anger and surprise.

Good. Let him be surprised. Let him see that I won’t be allowing him to treat me the same anymore.The one thing being with Thor had done for her was to show her her worth and what she deserved. If she never got anything else from him, she was grateful to him for that. She only wished she’d been able to do something for him in return.

Elle reached the head table and Thadren walked around it to stand next to her. For the first time she noted how old her father looked. His face was lined with deep wrinkles and etched with dozens of scars. His bare arms still bore great bulky muscles but the deep ashen skin had begun to lose its elasticity and sagged in places. Even his eyes appeared more sunken in and hooded by puffy eyelids. Only the bright flames of his eyes and beard showed any semblance of youth. For the first time she realized why her father was marrying her off to Thadren. Not because Thadren needed her father’s armies, but because her father needed Thadren’s strength. With no sons of his own, Surtr wanted someone as strong as himself, if not stronger, to replace him someday on the throne of Muspelheim.

In an instant all fear Elle held for her father vanished. The realization that she held the power in the situation had never occurred to her. As much as Surtr would hate to admit it, he needed Elle. Needed her to be able to broker the deal with Thadren, to prolong his legacy.

Something clicked inside Elle.

“Great warriors of Muspelheim. We are here tonight to bear witness to the union of Princess Sutrelle, daughter of Surtr to Prince Thadren, son of Throndel. With this union the two halves of our kingdom will be united and heal the rift that has split our people for the last thousand years. And when our people are once again all one people, united under the banner of House Surtr, with Prince Thadren heir to the throne of all Muspelheim, we will once again set out to conquer what is left of the nine realms.”

Cheering and banging arose around the room at Surtr’s words. Many of the men raised their flagons of ale and gulped them down.

Surtr held up his hand. “It is my honor to welcome Prince Thadren to our castle and to offer him, my daughter, Princess Sutrelle, to be his wife, body, mind and soul.”

Thadren bowed to Surtr. “And it is my great honor to take Princess Sutrelle, daughter of Surtr, to be my wife, body, mind, and soul.”

Surtr’s gaze turned on Sutrelle. “Princess Sutrelle, I offer you to Prince Thadren, to be his wife in body, mind and soul.”

It struck Elle how one sided the marriage vows were. She was being offered up as the sacrificial lamb to Thadren, but he wasn’t being offered to her for anything. The vows alone explained so much.

A moment passed and then another. Surtr’s eyes narrowed and the flames in his beard grew longer and brighter.

“Princess Sutrelle, I offer you to Prince Thadren, to be his wife in body, mind and soul,” he repeated.

Elle lifted her chin. “No.”

Surtr’s eyes flashed. “There is no, ‘no’ allowed, Sutrelle.”

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