Author's note: First off, this is a sequel to my fanfiction Unworthy, which can be read on this site. I recommend it as it explains how everything got to this point with minimal confusion. Secondly, a huge thank-you to everyone who read it and gave me the motivation to write this. This is mostly a Darcy/Loki focused story, but with a much wider scale than before and more characters from Thor involved. I wrote the first story before The Avengers came out, so the continuity for this doesn't match up to The Dark World, although Malekith and the dark elves do feature in this. Hopefully this explained everything!
The guards of Odin's weapons vault stood at the edge of the gilded door that kept out any would-be trespassers with the fear of uncertainty making this night feel distinctly unlike all the previous others. The palace they kept watch over was the crowning jewel of Asgard that had been the domain of the Aesir since the birth of the stars, a realm that took much pride in having its power unrivaled.
And yet since the shattering of the Bifrost, everyone in Asgard was at least slightly on edge, fearing that they may no longer have the influence over the rest of the nine realms.
"What do you think Heimdall's up to now that his position's non-existent?" asked one guard.
"He's most likely still scanning for any enemy activity; just because his post is gone doesn't mean his loyalty has," said another.
"Still, you have to wonder how frustrating it would be seeing some sort of gathering rebellion and knowing it impossible to directly intervene."
"Aye, I'd imagine it would be very frustrating, but if there was any rebellion, how could they take it past their realm? If any wars happen, they're going to be fought on only one soil, so I suppose you could say with the Bifrost broken, Asgard is safer than it's ever been."
The first guard snickered. "So you're saying that smashing it to bits with Mjolnir was a wise first step towards Thor becoming king?"
He never found out the answer.
Out of nowhere, an arm holding a dagger appeared and slit the second guard's throat in one swift motion. His mouth fell, his eyes rolled up, and he collapsed, revealing a tall dark elf that stood behind him, holding the dagger.
He had a lean, yet muscular physique and chalk white skin with matching hair that swept away from his forehead in braids trailing down to a single plait. As if to offset his paleness, his tunic was a rich, deep oxblood and his cloak was a purple so dark it resembled black even under the torchlight.
His eyes were easily the most striking part about him. Ice blue with startlingly small pupils, they possessed a focus that had come with years of preparing one's movements down to an art.
And right now those eyes were staring directly into the first guard with the confidence of someone who could foresee their own victory.
The guard had no time to think on how the intruder came to be inside the vault, for the enemy was now lunging at him with his weapon. The blow was parried by the guard swiftly unsheathing his broadsword, whose weight far outmatched the dagger, and the force knocked it out of the elf's grasp and flung it down the staircase.
The guard thought he had disarmed his enemy and had the advantage to strike...
...and then the elf disappeared as suddenly as he came; no puff of smoke, no fade, just gone as if in a blink.
And then he reappeared, this time in front of the Casket of Ancient Winters, grabbing it in a single motion.
That was when the Destroyer was summoned.
The metallic being clinked to life, lurching forward and spraying its fire onto the thief, only for him to vanish once more.
The guard watched on in horror as the elf kept evading the Destroyer simply by vanishing and re-appearing all the while walking down the hall and up the stairs towards him, those icy eyes becoming more and more fixed on his target.
"What is your will with the Casket?" shouted the guard with as much authority as he could muster as he pressed his shield firmly in front of him, trying his best not to make it quiver. The elf was now inches away from him.
"My will?" he cocked his head. "Everything you have seen me do is the aftermath of Odin's will. I am simply trying to set Svartelfheim on the path it was always meant to be on."
"Asgard's army will respond to this," said the guard, contempt giving his voice new strength. "And your downfall will be swift, just like all the rest of the kingdom's enemies."
The focused calm that had been in the elf's eyes now gave way to a small, quiet fury. "No," he said in a clipped tone. "The downfall of Asgard's enemies has never been swift." He vanished from the guard's sight.
An agonized moan escaped the guard's mouth as he could feel his back being stabbed. The elf stood behind him, sliding his dagger past the armor and into the flesh.
"It's slow, suffocating...meant to last."
The guard's broadsword falling left a clank that echoed through the hallway.
The elf walked around the guard now on his knees, taking out the now bloody dagger and stared at his victim.
"At least know I've given you the luxury that none of my men have known-" he said as the Destroyer's steps could be heard coming straight for him. "Dying having no idea what it's like to have the side you're on not be the most powerful."
The elf disappeared one last time, leaving the now helpless guard to receive the full effect of the Destroyer's flame.
His screams were barely contained from within the vault when Thor materialized from Earth, expecting to be greeted with a warm embrace from his mother Frigga or a reprimanding about why he had been gone so long from his father Odin. He certainly didn't expect to see dozens of guards rushing past him towards the weapons vault, or smell the unsettling scent of sulfur. By all the Aesir, he had barely been gone a day, how much chaos could have occurred during his absence?
He pulled a guard to him. "What's happening in the vault? Has there been a fire?"
"There's been a break-in. The Destroyer was summoned by the All-Father but the intruder fled."
"Where is his location now?" he demanded.
"We have no idea. All we know is that they escaped without being seen anywhere else in the palace."
"Impossible..." Thor muttered as he placed his hand off the guard and ran to the vault, thoughts rushing in and out of his head at a pace even faster than his legs.
..what could have been stolen?...
...surely Heimdall must know the thief's whereabouts...
...what if they escaped to Midgard...
"Your highness, this isn't something I recommend you witness-" said one of Odin's men as Thor walked right past him. Once inside, he froze.
The Casket of Ancient Winters was no longer in its place.
And below him laid the charred remains of a guard splayed out on the stairway, thin tendrils of smoke still rising.
He lifted his cloak to his nose and mouth and headed straight towards the throne room.
Within the columned chamber sat Odin, king of Asgard. Even with the aid of the golden apples which prolonged youth and vitality, millennia's worth of conflict etched itself in his face, created by both the battlefield and amongst family.
Frankly, he found the former to be more manageable.
He was fully aware that his son Thor was still recovering from the loss of Loki, but that was hardly an excuse for him to disappear without notice. Especially since he was just starting to be comfortable once more with the thought of him becoming king.
"Do you have any idea what just occurred while you were away for what I shall safely assume are entirely selfish reasons?" his voice bellowed throughout the open space as his son entered.
Thor winced. He should have known better than to believe he would get off easy, even without the break-in depleting his father's patience.
"That was not of my own choice. I was taken out of Asgard through someone else's intervention. Father, mother...Loki's alive. I saw him on Midgard."
Frigga placed a hand over her mouth and looked from Thor to Odin.
"Is he hurt? Is he safe there?"
"Yes, he's safe. He found a way to reunite me with Jane, but right now I must speak to you of more urgent matters-"
"Unless it involves the vault being broken into, I am in no mood to hear what you qualify as urgent matters." said Odin, not even bothering to hide his frustration.
"I know what caused it! Why it's now possible to travel between realms. Will that not gain your interest?"
Odin's attention was elsewhere. He promptly stood, reaching for Gungnir while Frigga laid a hand firmly on her husband's shoulder. Thor turned around, hearing the sounds of a dozen swords being unsheathed as a dark elf was now standing behind him.
"Malekith of Svartelfheim," the king said, as if it were an insult. "How many centuries has it been since last you stood here?"
"Not nearly enough have passed by to wipe my memories of this place," replied Malekith.
"Perhaps I can aid in your wish for memory loss." growled Thor, flexing his hand in preparation.
The elf turned to Thor with a gloating smile. "Kill me, and you've lost all chance of seeing the Casket again. And has your father not punished you for shattering the Bifrost? I should thank you for allowing me access into his weapons vault."
Odin was thankful in that moment his beard was full enough to hide his jaw clenching.
"Asgard does not take kindly to thieves." he said warningly.
This elicited a joyless laugh from Malekith. "You yourself stole the Casket from Jotunheim. Why should my stealing of it be considered any more of a crime?"
Odin was determined to make his visit as short as possible.
"What have you come to negotiate?"
"This is beyond simple negotiations. Consider this a declaration of war."
He took a glimmering shard from his sheath and gently placed it down in front of him.
"There's no need for that," he said, hearing the guards step closer to him. "This is simply a mere shard from the Bifrost. One that will lead you directly to the fields of Svartalfheim where you'll be met by my army. I suggest you bring as many of your men there as possible if you want to have the best odds of getting the Casket back."
He turned on his heel, remembering something.
"Oh, and my people have spent the past centuries creating new ways to have magic aid us in our survival. I think you'll find our magic far more...brutal than last time."
And with that, he vanished for good, leaving Odin to strategize for yet another battle.
He looked at Thor and couldn't help but pity him about to fight an enemy he would no doubt underestimate, where losing would mean much more than a wounded ego.
"Well my son, you've wanted to partake in a war you could be proud off-now is that time."