The Princess and The Protector

### Freja Thorsdottir & Halkon Malekson

“Freja, please, for the love of Odin, come back,” Halkon called into the seemingly empty forest around him. Being the protector charged with the protection of the crowned princess of Asgard may be considered a reward, but in reality, it was a nightmare. Princess Freja was a headstrong, confident girl whose father had taken her to a battlefield before she could even lift her own sword.

Her parents doted on her, but at the same time, raised her to be independent and a leader. One day, she would rule the Nine Realms and would lead it well given war or peace time, but for now, she was still a young princess, who despite her protests still needed protection.

Freja’s training in combat and stealth made Hal’s job way more difficult at that particular moment.

And on top of all that, she had a pet lion who seemed to be in competition with Hal who could protect her better.

Hal looked around again, in vain hope of catching a glimpse of either girl or cat. Even if he scoured every inch of the royal forest, the chance of finding the princess when she didn’t want to be found was slim. This had nothing to do with Hal’s own skills as a tracker or a warrior, but rather Freja’s knowledge of the forest and ability to blend into her surroundings.

The forest was fairly safe, as it was on the palace grounds, and Freja had grown up running through it. There were warriors along the perminator, and a protective spell around it placed by the late Queen Frigga, wife of the All-Father King Odin, Frega’s grandfather. Despite all the precautions that had been taken, one of the first lessons that had been drilled into Hal was there is always the possibility of a threat.

“Freja,” Hal called out again. It wasn’t that the princess was hiding because she was mad, or even that she was running from protection. Au contraire, Freja and Hal had grown up together, and when they were younger, the forest was often their playground and training ground. Hal’s mother, Lady Sif, was one of the King’s top warriors, working with the Warriors Three, and his father, Malek, was a general in the Einherjar, the Asgardian army.

Hal was about to admit defeat, knowing that that would bring Freja out, when he caught a glimpse of yellow to his left. Tyra, Freja’s lion companion, was never far from her mistress. The princess, the goddess of voice, had the ability to communicate with any living being with a voice, with a special connection to felines.

Hal slowly turned in a circle, scanning the trees around him for the princess. A whistle stopped him in his tracks. He spun around, just in time to see Tyra pouncing through the air towards him. The lion knocked the boy down, and with her paws on his shoulders, she gave Hal a big lick across his face.

“I win!” Hal heard Freja exclaim gleefully. She was standing over him, a wicked twinkle in her eye.

Hal groaned.

“Next time, please let me know what you're doing before you run off into the forest,” he said, “and besides, did you really win; it was two against one?”

Freja laughed as she gave him a hand up.

“As my protector, aren’t you supposed to be better than an entire army?”

Hal rolled his eyes.

The laugh in Freja’s eyes faded as the palace came into view. Hal could tell something was going on with his friend, but everytime he asked her about it, she avoided the question. Her diplomatic skills were almost as good as her combat skills. She really would make an amazing Queen one day.

“Princess, Protector,” The sentry bowed to them as they went through the side gate to the Royal Palace of Valaskjalf.

“I have to get changed,”  Freja called out, and she started into a sprint up the stairs, Tyra on her heels. Hal sighed, and quickly followed after them.

He wasn’t required to shadow her in her own palace, but with the visitors from Tsafryus who had arrived yesterday, Hal figured it wouldn’t hurt. And besides, maybe he could figure out what was going on with her.

When Freja exited her room half an hour later, it was as if she was an entirely different person. Gone were the sheepskin legging and green cloak, instead she was decked in a floor length, blood red gown with golden stitching, with her knee-length golden hair no longer tied up but instead hanging down with jewels interlaced.

“Not bad,” Hal commented as Freja swung a gold cloak over her shoulder. She rolled her eyes in response.

“Not bad? I look gorgeous,” Humility was not one of her strong suits, “ you on the other hand, are still covered in dirt and I think that is a leaf in your hair.”

Hal ran his hand through his shoulder length dusty brown hair. During Tyra’s attack, most of it had escaped the ponytail he typically kept it in.

“Well, I don’t take as long to get changed as you,” he retorted.

“You better hurry, Father will not be impressed if you are late or dirty when the banquet starts.”

The two of them continued bantering back and forth as they made their way to Hal’s quarters.

Their relationship was unlike most of protector and charge. Freja was a lot closer to Hal than to her own brother, Leif. Their sibling-like relationship was considered unprofessional by many of the army, but her parents understood, and even to the point of realizing this meant that Hal would lay down his life for Freja in order to keep her safe. They trusted one another to have their back, and it was the sort of trust one can’t just demand; it has to be built over time.

It was a smaller banquet that evening. Instead of the huge party that had been put on the first evening the Tsafe princes and princess had arrived, now it was only a couple hundred royal members in the banquet hall.

Hal, at Freja’s side as always, scanned the room as he entered, making note of all weapons, exits and threats. In a room full of Asgardian, many who happened to be warriors, this was no small task.