Only a few days ago The Statesman had been buzzing with activity as the Asgardian survivors kept themselves busy by exploring the ship and rooting out any supplies of food and water as well as blankets and any spare clothing that could be found. The very basic necessities for life. It was all they had left. Too much had been left behind; too much and too many lost to Hela's wrath or Surtur's flames.

The Asgardian people were strong in spirit as long as they had a task to focus on, but now that they had found all that was to be found of any use on board The Statesman, now that they knew how to pilot the ship with Heimdall navigating their way through the stars, there was nothing to prevent the grief from bearing down upon them. All they could do was to wait for the weeks and months and years to pass until the ship arrived on Earth. And then what? They were a people in exodus, cut down and scattered through space, their homeland obliterated. They were a people without proof or reminders of who they had once been. The buildings, books, paintings, statues all gone for ever. They were a people without a culture to inspire them to carry on, to be greater than they ever thought they could be.

All that was left was to drift aimlessly and hope for something better.

Thor had stolen himself away to the observation lounge to be alone. He was at a loss as what to do next and he couldn't bear to look at his empty-eyed people any longer.

There were recliner chairs dotted around the lounge, ones which came with cup holders so that one could comfortably lie back on the leather upholstery and watch the stars zipping by overhead while snacking on popcorn and slurping on drinks. Somehow Thor didn't feel like lying in one of the chairs, so he lay on the floor instead. It was cold and hard, but that was a welcome sensation. He would take discomfort over numbness.

He tried to lose himself among the countless stars and nebulae. But, his thoughts kept returning to Ragnarök and his remaining people. How could he lead them through such a painful situation?

He allowed his thoughts to drift further, going as far as to closing his eye and focusing on the hard floor beneath him and the hum of the ship's engines. It was actually quite peaceful, but it did make him wonder how long could he stay there before someone came looking for him?

The answer was about five minutes, before the door hissed softly as it opened and closed. Footsteps walked lightly over the floor and then stopped about a short distance away from him. There was a rustle of fabric and a low sigh as the person lay down and made themselves comfortable.

He did not need to open his eye to know that it was Loki. He didn't know why his brother had sought him out, but he could keenly feel Loki's presence, the mixture of fire and ice in his spirit always restlessly moving.

For a while they lay in silence.

There was a comfort to be taken from hearing the inhale and exhale of Loki breathing, somewhere above the low rumble of ship's engines and life-support systems; and Thor was grateful that his brother was refraining from speaking, not uttering his usual snarky quips or sarcastic observations. The silence hung heavy between them, but it held them together as though wrapped in a woollen blanket.

They were bounded by Ragnarök. It didn't matter what had transpired between them in the past, Fate had decided that the two princes of Asgard would be the key to its doom. Perhaps their whole lives had been preparing them for the task.

For what purpose? Thor wondered bitterly. What good could come of this?

They were passing under a magnificent cloud of red gas. It dwarfed The Statesman.

He was admiring its colours when the phrase emissions nebula popped into his mind and he knew it had come from Loki because he himself had never known those words before, along with radiation and high levels of hydrogen. And then the sweet taste of cherries filled his mouth. He had forgotten that Loki had the peculiar ability to taste colours. No really knew for sure if this quirk was particular to Frost Giants in general, or if it had been a side effect of Odin's spell. Either way to be reminded of it was pleasantly nostalgic, bringing back childhood memories.

The last time he had been able to hear any of Loki's thoughts or share in his synaesthesia was when they had been five years old. Thor had demanded to know why Loki kept chewing on his green sleeve like a moron, so Loki had opened his mind to the experience. It sent Thor running straight to the Bifrost for a taster. His father had been less than amused to find his eldest son happily licking the rainbow bridge. And then Loki had thrown a tantrum because he'd never been allowed to eat the Bifrost even though his eyes told him that it was delicious. After that Loki had kept himself closely guarded from everyone.

"The Hulk must taste like a giant apple to you." He didn't know exactly made him want to break the silence, but he judged it to be about time that they spoke out loud.

In his peripheral vision he saw Loki grimace.

"Wrong shade of green, brother."

"Oh. Blegh." He gagged when Loki projected an image of the Hulk into his mind. A foul, bitter taste sticking to his tongue. He tried to scrape away the taste with his fingers, but to no avail.

"Indeed," said Loki, with a self satisfied smile as he linked his hands under his head. "It's a bad green. I learnt how to control my gag reflex with time though."

Silence fell between them again, apart from the fast tapping of Loki's foot against the floor. It was highly irritating and Thor could sense that Loki was doing it exactly for that reason, to annoy him to saying what was really on his mind.

After twenty more seconds of incessant foot tapping Thor caved in.

"What have we done?"

Loki's foot stilled.

"Exactly what we were destined to do. We were placed on the road to Ragnarök even before we were born. And you can't fight destiny, Thor."

Thor frowned. "So you feel no responsibility? No shame? No guilt?"

As soon as he said those words a coldness came over Thor as Loki completely closed his mind to his once again, as though a fire had suddenly been extinguished.

Loki sat up with his back to Thor. He made to get up, but Thor reached out and grabbed his arm, knowing that if he let Loki go now then he might never come back.

"Don't misunderstand me, brother," he said, urgently. "Don't twist this moment inside your mind. I'm not blaming you for Ragnarök. I...don't go, don't run from this."

Loki's face softened slightly.

"I just wanted to know if you feel like I do."

Loki swallowed hard and looked wildly around as though he might still bolt from the room, but then he looked down at Thor and said in a choked voice, "My home is gone...the lake where I learnt how to swim is gone...the trees I used to climb are gone...our ancestors' remains are gone..." His voice turned into an angry hiss. "Our mother – everything she left behind is gone! People I saw every day are gone! Nothing remains!"

He wrenched his arm free from Thor's grasp and walked to the glass dome. Thor was slightly alarmed to see him leaning dejectedly against the glass, eyes closed. He looked depleted of any fight left, not like the Loki he knew who always had at least five different schemes planned for every eventuality.

Your strength comes from Asgard, Odin had told him once. That was true, wasn't it? His power came from those around him. That was what important.

"Pray for the arms of Valhalla," Thor whispered.

Loki stared at him tiredly, immediately recognising the prayer they had chanted at least once a week as children.

"And the arms of Valhalla shall protect you," Loki continued. "Your arrows will never be depleted and you swords never dulled. The glory of Valhalla is waiting."

It was such a simple prayer, but simplicity was what they needed. Easy to say lines while their tongues and minds were leaden with sadness.

Together they spoke the second verse: Do not weep for they rest in the arms of Valhalla

And the arms of Valhalla shall cherish them

They laugh, they sing, they dance

And we envy their peace.

"We can't give up hope, brother," said Thor. "Asgard is a people not a place. We can keep Asgard alive by remembering who we are, where we've come from and where we're going." He pointed towards the space in front of them. "Our strength comes from Asgard, and Asgard's strength comes from us."

Loki nodded wordlessly. Then he said:

"Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'

We are not now that strength with in old days

moved earth and heaven; that which we are we are;

one equal temper of heroic hearts made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

Thor was suitably impressed. "Not to yield," he echoed. "Who wrote it?"

Loki shrugged modestly. "Oh, the lines just came to me while I was in the lift."

Thor snorted. "Really? But, it's so good."

"I know it is because I wrote it."

"Well, in that case, kudos."

"Thank you...? What does kudos mean?"

Thor shrugged. "I'm not really sure. I heard it on Earth. It might translate literally as lying, cheating, plagiarising bastard."

Loki chuckled.


When the path is shrouded in darkness and we don't which way to turn then rituals can provide direction and a foundation to stand on.

Later that day Thor led his people in singing their songs and prayers, and telling their stories, all that was left of the old Asgard, and the only way they could keep it alive.

"Though much has been taken, much abides," Thor reminded them.

At first there were some who were reluctant to join in, not wanting to be reminded of what they had lost, but before long their singing became strong. There was even some laughter as they recalled some of their funnier stories.

And there was dancing, which quickly got out of hand as the Hulk tried to join in. Loki could barely hide his disgust.

"And, yeah, we may be no longer that might which shook the Nine Realms. But, we are what we are. A band of heroic hearts, who has been weak by fate, but we remain strong in spirit. We strive, we seek, we find, we'll search for our new home, but we will not yield to grief or sadness or anything or anyone that the galaxy tries to throw in our way!"

"We will not yield!" the people shouted back.

"Nice speech, your majesty," Val said with a smile. "Did you write it yourself?"

Thor turned to smirk at his brother and to make sure that he was listening. "You know what? Actually, I did."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Kudos, Thor."


"Thanos, I will not yield."

Though much has been taken, much abides. And though we are no longer that strength which moved earth and heaven, we remain an equal temper of heroic hearts who will not yield to the darkness no matter what the cost.

Thanos, we are waiting for you.


AN: Thank you for reading, although I know that both Loki and Thor are ooc. I'm sure that many of you knew straight away that Loki was quoting a verse from Tennyson's Ulyssess, which I felt described the plight of the surviving Asgardians well. And being space Vikings I felt that I should include some poetry as I'm sure that they must have some pretty epic poems about their many battles and myths.

Why does Loki have synaesthesia? I don't know. I was writing and it just went that way. It's okay if you don't like it. I don't feel that I've written him accurately anyway so decided I may as well add something new.

Why is Loki familiar with Tennyson, but not the word kudos? I feel like Loki is very clever, but ignorant of some things, especially as he considers humans beneath him. He's not afraid to pass their poetry off his own, though.

Who said, "Thanos, I will not yield"? Maybe it was Thor, or maybe it was Loki. Or someone else. Argh, Loki please do the right thing in Infinity War! Do not yield, do not give into Thanos. Deep down you're better than Thanos!

Thank you again.