Danica

M. Greystone

I don't own anything except original characters. But man, if I did own Marvel and all its goodies…The mind boggles!

Author's Note: This takes place in Thor and Iron Man movie-verses, but not necessarily X-Men's. You've been warned! Also, the introduction is not movie-verse present day, which you'll see as you read. Please enjoy!

Introduction…

Odin, Allfather and King of the Asgardian Realm, eyed the young woman kneeling in front of him, the golden vastness of his throne room sweeping beyond her, silent now in the aftermath of the previous day's festivities.

"Are you certain you know what you are about to embark upon, child?" he asked her, the pale gold sheen of her hair shifting as she nodded and looked up at him. Her icy green eyes were clear, devoid of the hurt he'd seen in them yesterday, the pain of betrayal burned away to leave a calm that concerned the ancient god. He had watched her grow through the eighteen summers of her life, always smiling and pleasant, a true companion and friend to his sons as the three had grown up together, comrades since her father had arrived in Asgard to begin as Odin's Master of Arms.

"I know as much as I can, Your Majesty," Danica Haraldsen replied, feeling slightly uncomfortable in the strange blue trousers, soft tunic and jacket and laced-up white leather shoes that she remembered from her research were called 'jeans, t-shirt and blazer, and sneakers.' They were a far cry from the elegantly embroidered dresses and tunics she normally wore, but it would be necessary that her clothes blend and raise no suspicion where she was going.

Odin sighed and stood, the guardsmen flanking his throne standing even straighter as he descended the stairs of his dais and offered her his hand as he helped her to her feet. "Very well, Lady Danica. Since I cannot sway your decision, nor do I wish to deny your request as you seek to serve the well-being of Asgard by making this endeavor, I offer you blessings instead. I will speak with you when you arrive and are settled in Midgard."

"Midgard?" a voice said incredulously from the entrance to the chamber, the disbelief ringing through the empty room, and Danica frowned as she turned to face her betrothed, her sneakers squeaking on the gleaming floor.

Fandral strode quickly through the throne room, worry marring the clean-shaven perfection of his face. "Danica, what clothes are these? And what reason do you have to leave for Midgard?" he shook his head, his blond braid swinging against his shoulders.

She glared at him, amazed that a man of a score-and-one could be so dense. "My reasons are my own," she replied acidly. "You have nothing to worry about now, my lord. I leave you to your own devices. You can go whoring as you please without the hindrance of so silly a thing as a wife."

"Danica, please let me explain—" he began, the sadness he could see buried in her eyes cutting him as it had yesterday, the day that should have seen their wedding, except everything had gone wrong.

She held up a hand, the tears she wanted to let slip burning in her throat. "There is nothing more I want to hear from you, Fandral. I release you from our betrothal."

His brows drew together even as his eyes widened, the tall warrior staring down at her. "I do not accept this. Our betrothal—"

"Is a sham because of you!" she fired back, pushing him away from her. "You broke it the instant you decided to bed that slut I called friend! And on our wedding day?" she hissed. She shook her head, closing her eyes for strength before she faced Odin once more. "Thank you for this opportunity, Allfather. I will not fail you." She curtseyed and managed a smile when he pulled her into an embrace.

"Safe journeys, my lady," the old god smiled, releasing her.

Danica nodded, never looking at Fandral, who stood with bowed head, as she turned and left the hall, the silence swallowing the echo of her footsteps.

When she had gone, Fandral faced Odin, his shoulders slumping as he shook his head. "She will not let me speak nor let me explain," he said.

"You have hurt her deeply," the king replied, leaning slightly on his golden staff, Gungnir.

Fandral's lips thinned. "It was not as she thinks, Majesty! I would not disgrace her as she believes I have! Something is amiss, and I know not how to understand what happened!"

Odin sighed and settled a hand on Fandral's shoulder as he escorted him to his solar. "We shall talk then. But, I believe it best to let Lady Danica walk her own road for now, allow her to gather her thoughts and gain her footing. Perhaps, in time, you can win her again, and we shall have an even larger celebration than what was begun yesterday."

"My king, she and I are no longer betrothed. She will not have me even if I wait a lifetime," he insisted with all the exaggeration of youth.

The Allfather lifted his brows as he tilted his head. "Has she announced your parting publicly? Declared the betrothal annulled?"

Fandral blinked, looking at the other man as if he doubted his sanity. "You heard her but moments ago, Your Majesty. Are you not witness enough for such a statement?"

Odin rolled his good eye. "What did I hear? I am an old man, Fandral, and you young people mumble so." He shook his head. "Did you and Danica have a falling out?"

The man in the green of a hunter grinned. "Aye, Your Majesty, we did. But 'tis nothing I cannot set aright and win the lady's heart once more."

Odin chuckled, patting his shoulder as they walked. "Good lad. Now, tell me what happened to cause your lady such grief?"