She had seen enough of the world to know that Ragnvald’s view was narrow-minded at best and controlling at worst. Her grandfather was an intelligent male, and while he may believe he deserved to rule, he was cunning enough to root his lies into the very fabric of their faith to get what he wanted.
Her people deserved liberation. She would show them what real freedom was—what love and compassion could do to better their lives.
Though her inner chants still followed her with each step, she held her head high and kept her back so straight it ached.
The Asgardian queens stood on the dais on either side of the throne. Both Koa and Aelfsi were dressed in white, their crowns shimmering brightly in the sun that gleamed through the room, casting a column of light onto the iridescent throne.
North had never been permitted to sit on the throne, as it only accepted the rightful ruler of Idavoll.
She reached the bottom of the dais and lowered herself to both knees. Westley and Easta followed her lead, kneeling behind her.
“North Stjarna Erikdottir,” Aelfsi started, her voice low and full of power as it echoed through the hall.
“You kneel before your throne, as your subjects will kneel before you,” Koa continued.
“Do you swear fealty to Idavoll, first and foremost?” Aelfsi asked.
“I do,” North vowed.
“Do you swear fealty to Asgard and Vanaheim, second?” Koa asked.
“I do.” She rose on steady feet, with no help save for her own strength, feet planted firmly in Idavoll.
“Do you swear to uphold the wishes of the gods?”
“I do.” One step towards the throne.
“And do you swear to use your power to the best of your ability, to fight, to die, to live for your crown?”
“I do.”
Her magic responded to each vow she made to her people with flowers blooming all around the dais. North took the remaining steps to her throne, her now cold feet leaving icy prints on the floor, marking the path for her people to follow.
The power of the throne entwined with her magic, assessing her worthiness.
Centuries of previous rulers who had bled and died for their people had left their mark on the throne. It overwhelmed her, their anguish and their pride. North used it to bolster herself, to quash the feelings of inadequacy.
She was born to rule.
“Take your place as Queen of Idavoll, North Stjarna Erikdottir,” the queens said in unison.
She lowered herself onto her throne, the earth quaking beneath it with her growing power. The very ground she ruled over was in her control, and she would not let her people down.
A new dawn was on the horizon, and she would usher in the life her people so desperately needed. North raised her chin to gaze through thetop of the spire as the sun of Odin shone down on her, blessing her ascent to the throne of Idavoll.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Koa and Aelfsi carrying her crown to her. They raised it over her head, and the hall fell deadly silent as they paused. Energy rose, the power pulling towards her, claiming her soul as queen.
A collective inhale across the world.
“When truth and fairness differ from what is law, better it is to follow truth and fairness. Idavoll, we give unto you your new queen, Her Majesty, North Stjarna Erikdottir.”
The Asgardian queens lifted the crown high, catching the sunlight before lowering it. As it came down, awareness shot through North’s entire being, the crown a hair’s breadth away.
Her gaze snapped to the doors a moment before they were blasted open, revealing a lone tall figure.
North stood abruptly, the crown knocked from the queens’ hands before it could be placed on her head.
“Munin,” she breathed as her memory materialized in front of her eyes.
