Thor Odinson (mygodhasahammer) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2015-07-21 00:02:00 |
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After all, Asgardian eyes weren't tricked like mortal ones. A sultry laugh fell away like the gauze over his eyes. The halls of Gladheim seemed to stretch forever. As he stared up at the stars at a different angle than he had left them, his mouth was captured by a dry and hungry one. It drew his breath like opening a tomb. Thor reached up to stop the skeletal arm in leather casing. He had never felt her skin so fragile beneath his. "Stay my prince." The Warrior queen demured, though the fire in her eyes was clouded like a nebula. WHer face was gaunt and her hair the color of wheat that had been left in a warehouse for far too long. "I shall go. I think." He knew them all. Though, more like Hel's men than his, perhaps it was keen to "I HAVE HAD ENOUGH." The son of Odin bellowed, standing up and sweeping the table clear of its tarnishing once opulent chalices and bowls. The liquid inside spread red as blood over the floor and the meats laid out hit the floor with a meaty and corpusculent thud. There was a cold cackle that didn't come from the courtiers. The laughter didn't stop though the ravenous bearded viking led the shift from the table to floor after the toppled prey. Thor turned forward and moved towards the door. The music was as gay as the scene macabre and though he liked none of it. Like a hunter after a golden hind trapped in shadows, he owed Asgard to get to its root. Thor burst through the door and brushed by the woman outside. He did not stop, even when she reached out and grasped his hand with a cool claw. But hes stopped when she spoke. "Please, EindriĆ°i" Thor's heart broke as he gazed on the teal silk which clung to her ghastly frame. the platinum breastplate and the claret that would never come out. It was what Jane had worn so very long ago when Asgard's fall began. It was what the walking corpse of his mother wore now. She rested her head against his chest and felt like the grave. She drew him close as if he were young again, and she would swallow him. She called him her feeder of eagles. The music was darkly cloying. But he was tall enough to see past her. Through her curls to see the dark haired stag with a green eyed malice. And with a glint of searing yellow of his golden helm, the spell was broken. But he wasn't sure it had been a lie. After all, Asgardian eyes weren't tricked like mortal ones. |