Hello again! As promised, one week later, one new chapter. I like this posting schedule more. More time to write in between chapters.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any characters associated with them.
The clang of metal against ice blades rang consistently throughout the city, the screams of women and children fading away as those who could not fight were moved to another place within the safety of Asgardian walls; one not covered in frost and ice. Guttural war cries filtered the air, red staining the once gleaming gold of Asgard more and more with each passing moment.
Sif grunted as another beast slammed its frozen club against her small shield. She twisted out from under it, driving her sword straight into the giant's stomach, yanking it out again as he fell. Within another moment, the warrior had spun around to meet the blade of another giant, this one meeting the same fate with just as much ease.
Moving quickly and flexibly, she dodged under enormous and various frost weapons while in turn delivering multiple fatal blows. A force to be reckoned with, Sif made herself no easy target, but she had been seen and observed by these creatures before. She had been to Jotunheim once and fought these beasts, giving her a slight advantage in comparison to the other young warriors her age. But that also meant her opponents had fought her before, giving them just as much of an advantage themselves.
She was quickly and painfully reminded of this fact as a particular frost giant predicted her movement and managed to swing his club into her armored chest. The air escaped her lungs as she was thrown back, crashing into an abandoned fruit stall with frozen over produce.
A yell penetrated the air from the direction of the beast that had struck her, and Sif opened her eyes, struggling to her feet, to glance into the eyes of Hogun. His mace was bloodied, the original color of the metal almost unrecognizable under the red. She nodded once in thanks and returned to the battle, her torso throbbing with pain, but the discomfort pushed aside in favor of victory.
They would not have to be fighting this hard had Thor been here. He had slain dozens of the creatures on their original visit to Jotunheim, even without the aid of his companions. His skills and strength were greatly yearned for as the Asgardians waged through the battle.
She was certain the trickster knew of their plight and intentionally delayed Thor in Midgard. There could be no other reason for him to not be here yet.
Ducking under the arm of a swinging giant, Sif jabbed her sword into its chest, yanking it out again and sliding out of the way of another icy mace slamming where she had been moments before. She growled, a noise that often scared any other living beings around her, and slammed her shield against the second blow it tried to deliver. As it recoiled, she drove her own blade into its torso and slid it out again, slick with Jotun blood.
Her chest throbbed in time with her heart, her body crying out for rest, but her mind refusing to give in just yet. She fought on, past the physical limitations of other Asgardian warriors. However, with each swing, dodge, and heartbeat silenced, she neared her own physical barriers. Sif could not fight on much longer.
Panting in a desperate chance to rejuvenate her aching lungs, Sif's guard was down for only a moment, a moment the enemy was all too willing to exploit. Before she had time to react, the warrior felt the presence rushing behind her. She swirled around, eyes wild and sword drawn. A guttural cry escaped the lips of the monster as it crashed into the ground in front of her, an arrow protruding from its eye.
Sif narrowed her eyes in confusion. The archers were nowhere near this part of the battle. They were all guarding the gates from which the children and women were protected.
Eyes flying upward, she searched the battle while keeping aware of her surroundings enough to fight anymore charging enemies. As her gaze wandered upwards, she suddenly noticed the rolling gray clouds forming unnaturally fast over the battle. Her heart skipped against her chest. It couldn't be…
Yet, as she tried to convince herself otherwise, lightning suddenly leapt from the sky, crashing downwards to a point just north of her position. She could barely see a billowing red cape in the distance.
The rumbling thunder, accompanied with the strike of lightning, was enough to garner the quick glance of nearly every warrior on the battlefield. Soon enough, though, the fighting continued, the Asgardians filled with newfound vigor with the knowledge of the eldest prince now battling on their side.
However, they were unprepared for the clash of green, web like light that surged over the battle field, a cascading and alluring glow from above. Ignoring it, the warriors chose instead to continue their battle in order to claw their way to victory. Or, at least, they tried.
Sif suddenly found herself unable to move her feet from where they were planted, green tendrils kicked up the more she struggled. She could've sworn there was a purple one as well, but it could've been her imagination. Shouts of protest filled the air as the previously ignored green net's caster was suddenly recognized. Even the ice giants joined in the angry objections, growling at their own inability to move.
"SILENCE," roared a voice.
Hazel eyes flew upward, back to where she had first seen the red cape waving in the wind. Her mouth hung agape. Above the battle field, atop one of the buildings that had escaped destruction, were four figures, two of which were all too familiar, one of those being highly unwelcome.
Loki stood on one side, hands outstretched, coated in a green haze, and eyes screwed shut. Thor was beside him; hammer in hand and red cape in the wind. Two black clad figures stood aside him: one with a bow, arrow nocked and ready to fire at a moment's notice, and the other with two odd metal contraptions she didn't recognize – but assumed as weapons given the way they were held – aimed in the same manner as the bow wielder beside her.
She scowled at the trickster as he grunted to keep the taxing spell up, but averted her eyes back to Thor as he began to speak.
"STOP THIS HAVOC AT ONCE," he bellowed, accusing eyes falling on ice giant and Asgardian alike. "WE ARE A CIVILIZED PEOPLE."
A tick of silence passed, the Asgardian warriors glaring pointedly at their decidedly – in their opinion- less civilized opponents.
"BOTH OF US," Thor added, drawing surprise from his followers and leaving Sif's blood boiling. Her eyes fell angrily on the struggling trickster beside her friend. Surely, he had something to do with this horrid idea. The ice giants were far from civilized. They were brutal barbarians; nothing but monsters.
She noted the way the bow wielder's eyes continuously twitched to and fro, his taut string anything but lax. The female seemed just as on edge, like a predator ready to pounce on her prey the instant it displayed its weakness. These two sparked her interest. Now, where had Thor picked them up? Perhaps one of them was the one Loki had turned to his side and had remained brainwashed by his silvertongued lies? She would be all too eager to pull back that terrible curtain the trickster shrouded around his victims.
The thunderer's voice again rumbled over the battlefield, Sif noticing that the green web above was shivering unstably. Loki would not be able to keep up such a widespread spell for much longer.
"THE SOLUTION TO OUR PROBLEMS DOES NOT HAVE TO REQUIRE THE BLOOD OF EITHER OF OUR PEOPLE," Thor continued, his words easily heard by the entirety of those gathered. "AND I HUMBLY REQUEST THAT WE DISCUSS THIS ISSUE AS CIVILIZED SPECIES, NOT AS BARBARIANS."
A murmur spread through the crowd. Asgardians glared daggers into their enemy, and vice versa. Surely if looks could kill, both armies would've fallen quite swiftly. Sif herself could've downed at least a dozen with her burning glower before her opponents could even give her a glance. The Asgardians refused to see the Frost Giants as anything but what they were: barbarians. How could they be anything else?
Little did they know that the Frost Giants shared a strikingly similar opinion.
Getting these two differing, yet strangely similar, people to coincide for the allotted time needed in order to even hear the reason for the Frost Giant invasion was going to be harder than fighting off a hoard of Chitari. But Thor was always one for a challenge.
Bright light flashed across a darkening sky, clouds rolling threateningly from above. The whispers suddenly ceased at the crack of thunder that rumbled over them, shaking the green web violently.
"DO I NEED TO REPEAT MY APPEAL?" he roared, the very air tensing and darkening.
Slowly, the effect of the green haze began to fade, the web above retracting, earning a relieved gasp of air from its caster. Begrudgingly, Frost Giant and Asgardian sheathed their weapons, burning glares seething through the air. For some, the green tendrils lingered, Sif the most. It seemed the more she struggled, - the angrier she got - the less the haze would allow her to move.
Forcing herself to stay calm while keeping her air of defiance and willingness to fight, she slowly regained her ability to move, but not before her own weapon had been sheathed.
Soon, the opponents had gathered in front of the firstborn prince, segregated into their respective groups and continuing to glower at each other. Sif made her way to the front, ensuring her friend would be able to see her disapproving glare.
The murmurs began anew, each group accusing the other of starting a war in hushed whispers. Silent threats of dismemberment were passed between the empty space between the separated crowd. The four on the roof of the building jumped down onto the cobble below, but remained a step or two above. The trickster stumbled some, still recovering from the taxing spell he had cast over the entire battlefield. He moved behind his brother and murmured something into the bow wielder's ear, the aforementioned nodding wordlessly.
"First of all," Thor began, his voice not as loud now that those he had to speak to were much closer, "Where is the Allfather?"
The murmurs grew as the crowd passed looks from one to the other, silently questioning. It appeared no one had an answer. After a minute with no response, he continued:
"Since Odin is not present, I shall act as ruler of Asgard on his behalf," he concluded, pausing to note the lack of objection. "Now, I would like to ask for a representative from each group to come forward."
Sif immediately walked forward, her burning gaze driving any competition away and melting any objection in the throat of its owner. Her eyes quickly met those of the Frost Giant representative. In an instant they had decided they hated each other.
Thor glanced down at his friend, faint annoyance that he had to deal with someone he knew, but relief that she would probably understand him better. "I know who Sif is," he said quietly, almost too much so for the crowd to hear. He pointed to the Frost Giant, "but I would like to know what your name is."
"Býleistr," he spoke gruffly, red eyes glowering into sapphire blue. "I am the new king of the Frost Giants, after he killed my father."
Loki growled dangerously at the accusatory finger sent his way, but otherwise gave no reaction, standing tall and proud for someone sentenced to his death by the very creatures before him. The other inhabitants of Jotunheim seemed ready to jump then and there on the trickster and tear him limb from limb, earning little protest from their enemies. At the sight, an idea formed in the back of Sif's mind, clawing forward with sadistic excitement.
"You want him?" she asked, lips turned upward in a morbid smile.
Unspeakable terror flashed across those emerald green eyes, seen only for less than a second, before vanishing under a carefully constructed veil. The thunderer immediately objected, appalled at the notion his friend could even suggest. The two strangers aside them seemed confused enough to not give their opinion.
A malicious grin spread across Býleistr's face. "We'd be glad to have him join us," his red eyes roved to green. "He will pay for the death of Laufey."
Loki scowled, finger clenching and unclenching with green fire dancing around his palm. Hadn't he been through enough already? Had he not just escaped the clutches of the Chitari only to be thrown into the waiting jaws of his own kind by those he had once considered friends? Granted, he had expected as much, but he had been hoping it wouldn't have occurred this swiftly…
"I think we can reach an agreement, then," Sif continued, undeterred by the glowering green eyes burning with fear and determination alike, "You can have Loki and extract your revenge upon him, if you leave Asgard immediately from the way you came."
"Shouldn't I get a say in this?" the trickster interrupted, crossing his arms defiantly.
"You're still a prisoner, Liesmith," she snapped, using the childhood nickname he had never been fond of. She drew her sword from its sheath threateningly. "You don't get a say in anything."
Rolling his eyes and throwing his hands in the air, Loki paced behind his brother and back to the archer, eyes roving over the crowd that seemed all too willing to agree to Sif's proposal. He leaned over to the bow wielder and then to the girl, muttering something to each of them as Thor spoke again.
"You can't just bargain my brother off, Sif!" he protested. "Prisoner or not, he is still a prince of Asgard."
Shouts of disapproval rang through the gathered group. Everyone gathered seemed to disagree with Thor, despite his position as heir to the throne. The yelling grew louder as they all began to jeer against the trickster, who remained as calm as one growing closer to his death with every passing second could.
"I think it's a wonderful idea, dear, what was it? Sif? Yes, Sif, give us Loki and we will leave this accursed place," Býleistr affirmed, eyes glowing maliciously. If one bothered to look beyond the malice, one might see the obvious layer of deceit underneath; promising such a proposal would surely not be kept fully.
The situation was spiraling out of Thor's control much faster than he could grasp. His friend had just made a deal with the Frost Giant king and had bargained off his own brother and they had only been in Asgard for little more than an hour. The one thing he did not regret in his current circumstances was leaving Jane in the tower. At least she could escape this vicious battlefield until all was safe once more.
As the shouting escalated, the Asgardians announcing their eagerness to rid themselves of their problem prince and the Frost Giants more than willing to accept the offer, Sif smirked wickedly to herself. Hitting two birds with one stone was certainly something she was glad she could accomplish. The noise grew to such a volume that none heard the rumble through the clouds as they rolled menacingly above, gathering over their eldest prince.
Thunder boomed overhead, darkness suddenly shrouding the entirety of the battlefield. A crack of lightning tore across the sky and crashed into Thor, arcing violently around him in a blinding display of light. The yells ceased and the threats were silenced as everyone took a step back in surprise, shielding their eyes from the bright flash. The three beside the thunderer also had to move away in response to the sudden spectacle.
After a minute or less, the lightning ceased, but electricity continued to arc dangerously over Thor. With everyone's attention once again on him and order restored, for a time at least, he moved to speak once more:
"Now," he began, voice gruff. He pointed to Sif, "You do not have the authority to make such propositions, and you," he paused to point at Býleistr, "are under the authority of me and my father as long as you are on Asgardian grounds."
Býleistr crossed his arms, a growl in the back of his throat. "Please, you are little more than a boy."
"If Thor is a boy, then you are a hapless infant!" an Asgardian voice cried out.
Arguments once more started to be thrown back and forth, along with decapitation threats and angry retorts. Inwardly groaning at the realization that control was once again overridden by chaos, the thunderer ran a hand through his long hair, already growing weary from this short bout as leader of Asgard. Once Thor was sure war was going to break out, another voice overcame all the others:
"STILL YOUR TONGUES."
Thor might as well have brought seven bolts of lightning down into the center of the gathered company, as everyone suddenly stopped in their pursuits of dismemberment.
A tall, commanding figure carrying a golden scepter stood above them on the rooftop Thor and his companions had been previously perched upon. The thunderer's mouth slid open and he mouthed one word: Father.
Odin's eyes were stern, yet his whole body echoed a weariness Sif had never seen within her king before. The dark clouds above rolled dangerously, reverberating her friend's feelings subconsciously. She was somewhat surprised that even the Frost Giants were stilled under his presence; whether in fear or genuine respect she wasn't quite sure, though her suspicions leaned to the first.
Taking a step forward, Odin began speaking, "I leave my throne for only a moment to speak with the gatekeeper and in the time I am gone, war breaks out."
His voice was scolding; many of the soldiers lowered their heads in shame, though some had the audacity to look proud of themselves. Sif bit her lip, unsure of how to react. She had been a leading force against the invaders, after all. The Frost Giants themselves seemed antsy, and not at all ashamed for their actions. Though, she supposed, they would quickly regret them the instant the consequences for said actions set in.
"Though I am glad my son has done his best to maintain order, and has done a fine job, you, Asgardian and Frost Giant alike, seem unwilling to submit to his authority," he continued.
Sif wondered for a split second if Odin was referring to Thor or Loki when he said 'son.' Surely he had been aware that it was Loki that had stilled the battle? Throwing the thought away, quickly, the warrior decided it irrelevant, as someone yelled out an opposition.
"Your son is unfit for the responsibility of king." The voice was unrecognizable as Frost Giant or Asgardian, as he stood near the middle of the divided space. As much as Sif wanted to believe it was her icy foes, it didn't sound quiet gruff enough to be anything but Asgardian.
"I am aware of that," Odin admitted, his eye falling somewhere between both the trickster and thunderer, not settling on either. "But he is growing and learning, and this is just experience to add under his belt."
Before anyone could make anymore remarks, the king went on with his reprimand, "My son's position aside, I believe there are other matters to discuss. Such as, how you," he paused to point at Býleistr, "found your way into Asgard without using the Bifrost."
"Oh, most great and humble king," Býleistr drawled, sarcasm dripping from his icy tongue, "your son let us in."
Sif did not miss the way the trickster stiffened suddenly, before hiding his reaction faster than one could blink. She wasn't even sure she had seen it, but his past reputations ensured her beliefs in what she saw.
Odin's glance to his youngest lasted for less than a moment, but everyone saw it. Loki's stance remained impassive, his bright emerald eyes guarded by a shroud of indifference. He returned the glares sent his way with an annoyed eye roll, crossing his arms against his chest again.
"Then go back the way you came," Odin ordered, eye glinting dangerously and Gungnir glowing with a faint sheen under the dark clouds overhead.
"And if we don't?" Býleistr ventured, walking on a thin rope over a pit of knives.
A flash of light ripped across the dark sky, thunder rolling afterward. The group was growing more fidgety by the second.
"You either return to Jotunheim or stay and be slaughtered."
The Jotun leader's eyes flashed with something dark, but before he could speak, another voice cut in.
"Or, I don't know, we could organize a treaty," Loki drawled, managing to look rather bored.
"Ha!" Býleistr snorted, "A treaty? Don't be ridiculous, Asgardian whelp. A treaty – "
"- Is the only way our people will find peace," Odin interrupted, earning shocked expressions from both groups.
Sif's blood was boiling hot once more. A treaty? With the traitorous, barbaric, and downright repulsive excuses for life forms known as the Frost Giants? It was unthinkable. They had fought a war with them millennium ago, a war that completely desecrated their populations and sent them licking their wounds for at least twenty centuries! A treaty wasn't needed when Asgardian victory could be so easily achieved over them.
The maiden warrior, however, was not informed of the casualties and consequences of that war so many years ago. The text books had only ever detailed what made Asgard look strong, leaving out the scars that were now carried and the many new graves that had been dug. Nobody wanted to remember the times that their strength was questioned, when they had fought a war and nearly lost. No one wished to recall that time, no one wished to let their children know of their time of exposed weakness.
It was better, to leave the children shrouded in a false sense of unquestionable power; that Asgard could never fall, that Asgard's strength had never been questioned, that there had never been a time when people scoured the streets for food in a war torn city.
But a time would come when Asgard would once again be exposed, when their weakness once again took light, and, in that time, the children raised in the belief of Asgard's unquestionable power would see a new side to their beloved city. They would realize that Asgard did indeed have enemies; enemies that could very well make a war's outcome uncertain.
"Sif."
Sif jumped at the mention of her name, having been engrossed in her own, increasingly violent, thoughts. She looked up to meet the one eye of her king in response to his call.
"Have some of your soldiers gather the dead. The rest I wish to return to their normal duties."
Despite internally seething at the events occurring right before her, Sif obediently did as she was told, directing a portion of the Asgardians behind her to follow her into the abandoned battlefield. The Frost Giants appeared to do likewise, a small group standing by Býleistr, another group gathering their dead, while the majority reluctantly headed towards the Bifrost. The remaining Asgardians grudgingly dispersed, watching the remaining Frost Giants warily, but otherwise returning to their normal tasks.
She eyed her enemies closely, kicking herself for missing what had probably been an important part of the conversation because she had been so wrapped up in her own musings. Apparently, they had agreed to discuss a treaty and had in turn agreed to have the bulk of their army return to Jotunheim. At least, that's what she had gathered.
Thinking it unwise to leave such vile creatures alive, Sif violently sheathed her sword, eyes burning. As she walked around the battlefield, she realized then how many Asgardians had fallen in their impromptu battle. She sighed wearily, anger flashing in her eyes. How hard it would be to explain to the families that their fathers, husbands, and brothers had died fighting a vile enemy, only for the battle to end in a treaty.
Sif growled. These valiant warriors could not have died in vain. She would slay every Jotun rat herself before peace could be brought between the Asgardians and Frost Giants. What good could their deaths be if they fought and died against an enemy that so soon after became an ally? No, she couldn't let that happen.
So occupied was Sif with her thoughts of justice against the murderous barbarians that had slain her brothers in arms, that she failed to see the staggering count of Jotun that lay amongst the Asgardian warriors. She didn't consider the families of a struggling race that would have to be informed of the deaths of their own fathers, husbands, and brothers; that they too might have died in vain.
However beneficial a treaty could prove, it could not erase the memories of those that had lived before it. Those that died before peace could be found would have friends and family that would never let their deaths be in vain. It was people such as these that would not live peaceably under such a pact. For them, the treaty meant nothing but bringing emptiness to a valiant death.
Unfortunately, it would be these people that would start a war in the simple effort to avenge their fallen.
Honestly, I didn't mean fro the entire chapter to be in Sif's POV, but that's what happened. Huh.
Catch ya'll next week~
Update from the future: .Ha. Next week. That's funny. :P
Thanks for reading! Reviews and constructive criticisms are always appreciated! C: