Prompt word: Partilineal. 380 words, Gen, PG.

...

The sword was carelessly resting against her leather clad shoulder as she looked out upon the assembly. A sea of bowed heads greeted her cool gaze, and she smiled mirthlessly, voice echoing through the great chamber.

"Those of you who wish to speak ill of a woman ruling this realm, please do feel free to stand." She waved her free hand flippantly. Everyone remained on their knees, no sound other than a the occasional harsh intake of breath. "Well this is all rather excellent. I must say, I'm impressed with your ability to open your minds, when faced with an eternity trapped within the mists of Niffleheim."

She dropped the sword from her shoulder, and rested the tip against the gleaming stone of the dais. "Well then, shall we feast? I do believe we have the blood of your lord Odin to drink on this fine eve."

A woman stood, brave and proud against the backdrop of a cowering mass, her face a reflection of her new ruler. Her voice was true and sure, not wavering in her challenge. "Although I do not object to a woman ruling Asgard, I do not believe it prudent to allow our realm to fall into the hands of a liar and murderer."

The woman moved forward until she was in front of the first step leading to the throne. "You have taken my body, Loki. I shall not let you take my liberty as well."

Loki laughed. "Your lords Odin and Thor are dead. How do you wish to battle when faced with the magic of Laevateinn?" She spun the sword in her hand, the tip still pointed at the ground.

Sif met her gaze evenly, eyebrow raised and a glint in her eye. "That is none of your concern. Let it be known I challenge you in battle for the throne." She spun on her heel and strode towards the grand entrance, far in the distance of the enormous hall. Loki watched her leave, eyes narrowed to slits.

"You shall be struck down, Lady Sif. Killing good warriors is not my intent as ruler, but I shall send you to the next realm if this is what you desire."

Sif did not look back.

End.