I sit down on the metal box that passes for a bed, then immediately stand up because it makes my ass throb. That captain treated me like I was nobody.
I’ll make him suffer.
I’m not sure how, but my bloodline won’t allow me to rest unless I swear at least a little bit of vengeance.
I end up leaning against the wall, arms folded, ass aching, trying not to cry. I feel betrayed by Thor. I could be in his arms right now, wrapped up against the cold of space, filled with his cock.Instead, he had to use me to learn a lesson everybody should know by the time they are twelve years old: authority is bullshit.
I don’t know how long I am going to be left here, but I do know I am fucked. Whatever happens next is going to be bad.
Eventually, I work out a way to sort of lie down in a way that allows me to be somewhat comfortable. I prop myself up sideways on the bed and I close my eyes and I imagine that I am back at home in the house my father built. This is the only place that home will ever exist again.
I wonder if they’ve already started bulldozing the remnants. I wonder how mad Freya and Mila will be when they realize I wasn’t actually supposed to be on this ship. I remember the smell of my room, the feeling of the hand-woven rug my mother made underneath my feet as I got into bed. I remember how it was quiet in the earlier days, and how later on a near constant hum of traffic was just barely muted by the walls.
The ship makes a similar hum down here, I realize. There’s not as much padding in the walls or whatever. Insulation. I squeeze my eyes a little tighter, and I go back to when I was small and safe in bed, when I could hear the family moving around the house. My father’s deep voice, my mother’s laugh. Freya and Mila fighting over a doll as quietly as they could because the baby was trying to sleep. I am not a literal baby anymore, but they still treat me like one.
I conjure the feeling of being loved and safe and secure as much as I can as an antidote to the harsh punishment and the unexpected betrayal. I suppose Thor did still save Freya and her baby. I owe him something. Just not as much as I did before.
A hero will do the right thing, I realize. Doing the right thing isn’t always going to work for me, because I am so often doing the wrong thing. I don’t want a hero anymore. I need a man who will burn the world for me.
At some point, I fall asleep for a bit. That speaks to my exhaustion, I think. The tension I’ve been keeping in my body from the fear of being found out is all gone. The worst has happened, and now I can relax.
I wake up what could be minutes later, or hours later. The door is squeaking. I sit up and try to look presentable, but that’s hard to do when I have almost no clothes.
The door opens and two people walk into my cell.
The first of them is a woman with a blonde braid and the sort of demeanor that I would find intimidating if Freya was not my older sister. She’s accompanied by a tall, dark, and handsome man. I get the impression she is an officer, and he is a guard.
“Selene Weltheim,” she says. “Same name as the city?”
“The city was named after my family,” I reply.
She smiles, but not in a pleasant way. She thinks I am egotistical about it. I’m not. It just happens to be the truth.
“I’d like to ask you a few questions,” she says. “I’m Mara Greenthorn. I’m the head of personnel on this vessel.”
“If this is going to be an official interview, I should probably have pants,” I say.
She nods.
“Sven, please get our guest an unmarked uniform and a blanket and a pillow, along with a decent dinner ration.”
The male guard nods and goes to attend to her wishes. I get internally excited by the prospect of being both fed and clothed. It is a very intimate and vulnerable thing to be held prisoner.
Getting on the ship was a mistake in that regard. I really limited my options and put myself at the mercy of a mad hierarchy.
In a few minutes I have pants and a blanket, as well as a fried pastry. Things are going kind of well right now.
I sit on the pillow they brought so I can be comfortable enough to answer the fun interrogation questions Officer Greenthorn has for me.
“How did you get on board?”
“I walked on board. I just didn’t get off. It’s not my fault you didn’t have people counting to ensure everyone who went in came out.”
“We did not assume someone would try to hitch a ride.”
“Well, now you know what happens when you assume. You make a lot of mistakes.”
My interrogator smirks slightly. “You are in trouble,” she says. “You may not have any nefarious intent. It might have seemed like a fun prank, but this mission has a great many critical roles to play.”
