H-hello? Is anyone still there? Am I just updating at bad times or have you all lost interest? Umm, well, have an update anyway. Hope you enjoy to anyone still reading! C:
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any characters associated with them. Also I can't copy-paste my disclaimers from my stories for some reason. Bleeeh.
Loki frantically pushed himself off the ground, swinging his gaze haphazardly around the room. The sounds of battle could be heard even from here, a tell tale sign that the small buffer they had been keeping between the two species had all but disappeared within seconds of their disappearance.
The real question, though, was where had the others been transported?
Throwing all caution to the wind, the trickster rammed aside the door to his room and glanced around. Finding the hallway clear of life, he ran to the north end of the palace, the most likely place for Brasa to have taken Clint and Natasha. If he was lucky, they would've simply been transported there.
His magic thrummed forlornly against his chest, as if exhausted from the strenuous exercise it had been put through. A mega spell to hold still the armies of both Asgard and Jotunheim followed a few hours later by heavy combat against a number of Frost Giants in the hallways of the palace had left his magic strained and in need of rest.
Maybe that was it. Maybe the teleportation attempt had been the last straw for the stretched magic and he just hadn't been able to move all of them. Then again, the radius had been around all four of them, hadn't it? Perhaps they were lost between the realms, cut off halfway through Reality snapping back to itself.
Then again, the Hawk had hardly used any magic in the fights previous. Telepathic messages didn't require all that much anyway. Could it be that his own magic had completed the spell Loki couldn't finish, the results being a different location?
Stopping suddenly at the sound of another set of footsteps, too light to be a soldier, Loki halted abruptly, hoping it wasn't someone who would try to stop him in his search for his…friends? Comrades? Accomplices? He liked the first option the best, but it was probably closer to the last if he had to be honest.
The trickster let out a short breath of relief when he saw Frigga run around the corner, but that relief was quickly replaced by dread when he looked closer. She ran up to him, hardly slowing down. Throwing her hands on his upper arms, the queen looked pleadingly towards her younger son.
"Run, Loki."
He blinked blankly, pulling away slightly. Her eyes seemed different, but everything was so chaotic right now, he was probably imagining things.
"What is it, Mother?" he whispered, eyes roving about and previous mission temporarily forgotten.
More, louder footsteps rapped against the ground, coming closer and closer with each step. Frigga's eyes widened.
"Please, my son, just run!" she whispered harshly, desperation falling into her tone. "Out of Asgard, out of the realm! Just run and don't look back, please!"
It was at that moment that Loki pulled completely away, hands lingering on his mother's. Something seemed off, something wasn't quite right here. Frigga was normally so calm and collected. What had happened?
The footsteps quickened their pace, louder and louder as they grew ever nearer. The closer they got, the more frantic Frigga became.
"Go, Loki!" she nearly yelled, attempting to keep her voice low.
Slowly, his brain started churning again and he sucked in one silent breath. Emerald eyes locked with shining blue and he breathed out four last words before he turned tail and tore down the corridor.
"I love you, Mother."
As he ran as if there was no tomorrow, quietly, almost hauntingly, another phrase of words filtered into the back of his mind, barely audible.
'I love you, too, my son.'
As he ran, reality blurred around him, but in no way was it related to his magic. It was too tired, too worn, for him to be able to use it now. He'd spent all his energy already and now there was nothing left when he needed it. He had to save it for when he reached the gate, Heimdall would never let him use the Bifrost.
As he ran, the sounds of life around him filtered away. His own footsteps faded, going unheard by his own ears. All the noise and clamor of battle grew fainter the longer went on.
As he ran, he realized how numb he'd become.
It felt like only a matter of seconds passed until he found himself standing in front of the passage he'd used to get here in the first place.
He was panting, energy drained beyond feeling. He was too numb to feel exhausted. He couldn't feel anything.
As he could not feel anything, he felt no remorse, no regret, no pull back home, as he set his hand against the invisible portal and hoped beyond hope that he'd have the energy to run to Midgard…
Thor gasped, his eyes flying open as the shifting cut short halfway through and he was dropped unceremoniously onto the ground of the hallway he had just been in, only on the outskirts of the battle. It didn't seem like he had been noticed, however, as battle had erupted the instant the four holding it back had been transported away.
Idly, he wondered where his friends had been transported, as they were not here. He didn't have much time to wonder, though, as a stray icicle crashed past his head and shattered behind him.
Pushing himself off the floor, he sighed wearily at the sight of the battle that had ensued. There weren't that many Jotun in the corridor, and they were about to be completely overwhelmed by their opponents.
This assumption was proven drastically incorrect the instant a black line tore through the air behind the Jotun, veins spreading across it in an arc like shape, filling the entire space with ebony. An instant later, more Jotun poured through it, fresh and ready warriors thirsty for Asgardian blood.
Tiredly, Thor realized there was nothing he could do to stop the prejudiced hatred each people had for each other and grudgingly ran into battle. Both sides may have been at fault, but it was Jotunheim that had attacked the city and it was Jotunheim attacking the city now. It was his duty as a prince to defend his kingdom if peace could not first be achieved.
The ensuing fight he threw himself into felt empty and had little effort thrown in, for as much as he wanted to protect Asgard, he equally knew that in doing so, possibilities for relations with Jotunheim in the future were being shred away. With those associations the prejudices only heightened and the hatred for one another only grew. If they continued on like this, the future between Asgard and Jotunheim looked bleak.
Good night, when did he start thinking like a king?!
One thing suddenly caught his eye after nearly half an hour of fighting, a sharp image in a blurred world. Frigga stood at the edge of the battle, terror in her eyes shrouded by tears. Immediately, the feelings toward his family overruled his feelings for protecting Asgard and he stumbled through the battle to reach his mother. The second he tore out of the crowd, Frigga had thrown her arms around him, eyes wide and tired.
"Loki," she cried, voice harsh. "He killed him."
Bewilderment found its way into sapphire eyes.
"Who?" Thor asked, steering Frigga away from the bloodshed.
She let out another sob, burying her face in his chest.
"Your father."
Disbelief followed quickly by denial slid through the thunderer's expression. Loki had been next to him scarcely thirty minutes ago, there was no way he could have done such a thing. Then again, he'd been so caught up in the fight he had only assumed his brother had sought shelter from the fallout he couldn't stop.
But there was no logical reason for Loki to kill Odin, that is if he could even do so in the first place.
On the other hand, Odin had yet to show up in the not exactly discreet conflict happening in his own palace. Perhaps there was some truth behind those words, but if it had been Loki…it couldn't. It just couldn't.
His mental mantra continued, as he pushed passed his mother and started swiftly towards his parents' chambers.
"Where is Loki?" he demanded shortly as he ran, Frigga hardly able to keep up with him.
"He ran," she choked. "He saw me and he ran."
Thor shook his head, turning a corner sharply. No. No, this wasn't right. This couldn't be happening. He just had to get to Odin's chambers and prove to himself that his father wasn't dead. It couldn't be possible. The king had been under plenty of stress lately, perhaps it had been enough to fell him into the Odin Sleep. Perhaps his mother had just been cruelly tricked.
There had to be another explanation. There had to be.
But even as he threw aside the golden door leading into the expansive chamber the king and his queen shared, his heart dropped and unbelieving shock filled his eyes.
"No," he whispered.
His entire being seemed to drop like a stone. It felt like his heart had been stopped, ripped out, and crushed underfoot a stampede of Bilge snipe.
Odin, his father, the king of Asgard, lay face up on his bed with red staining the previously pure white sheets underneath him. His one eye stared upwards, half open and unseeing.
Running headlong into the room, Thor skid to a stop next to his father, fighting back the water in his eyes threatening to blur his vision. He looked longingly into Odin's dead eye, daring beyond hope that he would see a spark of life in them.
Unfortunately no spark came, and he took in a deep breath to focus himself. They were in the middle of a battle. Mourning could come later, there were much more important issues to deal with.
Straightening from his position, Thor scanned the body and turned abruptly. His sapphire gaze cut scrutinizing into his mother's as she walked closer to him.
"Loki doesn't fight like this," he announced darkly, eyes narrowing as Frigga approached.
She shook her head wearily and collapsed beside the bed. "But who else is capable of this…? Please, Thor, if I knew of another option I would have pursued it by now."
Pain and guilt flashing in his expression, Thor roughly pulled the queen off the ground, staring hard and cold into her eyes.
"You are the other option."
"W-what?" she spluttered, eyes widening.
"You're eyes are blue," Thor growled, Frigga shifting nervously in his grip. "Did you think you could fool me, you vile creatures of darkness?"
Frigga's expression shifted so suddenly from a maternal, worrying queen to something so much colder and darker the thunderer visibly flinched. Her gaze grew shadowed and her now glowing blue eyes flashed threateningly. Her entire being shifted to something different, something darker.
"We may not have been able to trick you to the extent we had hoped," she whispered, voice sounding one pitch lower. "But you are still a fool."
A blade whisked through the air faster than Thor could blink and he had hardly a second to twist out of the way and with much less agility than any of his companions could. He released his grip on Frigga, sending her to the side and to the floor.
His eyes widened as his opponent moved out of the shadows.
Sif gripped her sword tightly in both hands, her lips curved in a tenacious smirk and eyes shining with the same bright blue Frigga's did.
Before he could respond to her appearance, the warrior maiden was attacking again, violently and without restraint. The absence of her shield told him all too clearly who she had planned to be the aggressor in this fight. He did his best to move out of her swift and brutal assaults, but had minimal success, proven by the increasing number of cuts on his arms.
Swiftly, it became more of a sadistic, violent dance rather than a fight. With Sif constantly advancing and Thor wanting nothing more than to avoid her swings, they were evenly matched.
"Sif, hear me!" he shouted, bringing Mjolnir up to block her sword. "You are stronger than this! Do you hear me?"
The maiden's eyes remained vacant, and the malicious smirk on her face still had yet to fade. Thor's words did little to still her in her quest.
Fleetingly, the thunderer saw his mother watching their battle to the side, hands behind her back at her eyes amused. At least she wouldn't be joining in any time soon.
As Sif, the warrior maiden, his friend, stood before him, their weapons locked in a clash for dominance, Thor's memories suddenly filtered to the forefront of his mind; of a time all too similar to this, but under different circumstances…
"Come ON, Loki!" a young teen complained, hands on her hips and armor gleaming in the sunlight. "You did it when we were kids, you can do it now!"
Another teen, this one with medium length ebony hair and three books tucked under his arm, rolled his eyes from his perch above the training grounds.
"I wasn't so busy when we were kids, Sif," he announced to the dismay of the five young Asgardians below him.
"Brother," the tallest one began, "you make yourself busy and avoid us!"
Loki sighed and leaned further back into his seat atop the dragon statue positioned above them.
"Look, we'll leave you alone for the next week if you do it!" Sif declared to the quick agreement of her peers.
Arching an eyebrow at the proposition, the trickster blew out a longsuffering breath a person his age shouldn't be able to experience and caved.
"Fiine," he drawled, setting the books down in a safe place and throwing his hands outward.
Slowly, the area around the five in the training grounds began to alter its appearance, taking on a darker form. The sand below turned to frost and the walls around them became pillars of ice. A dome formed above them, taking on the appearance of a snow filled sky. With each change, a trace of green fire followed, quickly swept away by the shifting grounds.
From outside Loki spoke up through the dome. "Now leave me alone!"
"Will do!" Fandral called back, annoyance in his eyes.
Amusement swiftly flit into the eyes of each Asgardian in the replica of what they assumed as Jotunheim. As they had never been there, this was the closest they could get to discovering what it looked like.
Sif was quick to pull all of them from ideas of snowball fights and castles sculpted out of ice.
"Alright, let's see how you boys can fight in this environment," she declared, eyes taking on a mischievous and dangerous glint.
The Warrior's Three took one look at her and each took a step back, leaving Thor as the challenger by default. The thunderer gave them an angry glare, but nonetheless accepted the challenge and readied his sword.
A single breath passed between them before they were moving. The sounds of metal clashing violently against each other filled the icy arena. More than once one or both of them would slip on the terrain, forced to quickly correct themselves before jumping back into the spar.
Over a few minutes, Thor noticed Sif's expression change slowly from cocky arrogance to bitter annoyance. Finally, as she ripped his sword from his hands with her own, she pushed him to the ground and gripped his shirt in her fist.
"Stop it!" she growled.
Thor blinked dumbly for a moment. "Stop what, Sif?"
"You're holding back!"
Coughing nervously, the young prince pushed her off him and stood, retaking his sword from the magicked snow. His expression altered to match her own, angry one.
"I am not!"
He was and he knew it.
Unabated and unconvinced, Sif spit at the ground. "The battlefield is no place for chivalry, Thor."
He knew that.
"I can't get better if you don't push me," she growled. "None of us can get better unless we're faced with something harder than what we believe we are capable of overcoming and defeat it!"
She was right. They both knew that.
"Now," she breathed, having calmed done some. Pulling her sword back up and ready to fight again, she continued, "Fight me, Prince Thor, and don't hold back."
Thor stared for a second at the cocky smirk that had found its way back onto his friend's face, and shook his head wearily before a smile slid onto his face. Without another word, he lifted his own blade and prepared to attack.
Another breath passed, and they were moving again. This time, Sif's smirk did not fade into annoyance, but instead changed to something more determined. As they danced around each other's blows, Thor realized suddenly how good his friend was, how quickly she was adapting and learning despite having an opponent refusing to give her any slack.
Finally, their blades locked, and Sif grunted, her friend's superior strength obvious enough. She stared hard into his eyes before mischief flicked through them and she dropped to the ground, simultaneously letting go of her sword.
As Thor stumbled from her sudden movement, she brought her leg around and kicked his legs out from under him, the thunderer landing hard on his back.
Before he knew it, Sif was standing over him, blade tip brushing against his chest. She was breathing heavier than before and had sweat dripping off her brow, but she was grinning excitedly and triumphantly. Thor couldn't help but grin back.
"Thanks," she muttered, stepping off him and returning his sword. "Now, who's up next?"
The violent sliding of metal against metal stirred Thor from his short reverie and he breathed in sharply. Without a second's hesitation, he dropped to the ground and kicked Sif's legs out from under her just as she had to him so many years ago.
Sif crashed to the ground unceremoniously, not exactly in top form with the control clouding her decisions. However, she was back on her feet in an instant, sword ready and smirk turned to a scowl.
Advancing again, they returned to their fight. Though, this time, Thor was no longer holding back. Before, all he had seen was the control in her eyes and the blind desire to bring about his death. Now, all he saw was a young teenager, wanting a little bit of a challenge.
He was more than happy to oblige. After all, he was older now, stronger, and this time, he had Mjolnir, no pathetic sword as he did years before.
Now with every advancement she made, he was either dodging her swing or parrying it with his hammer. Her frustration quickly grew as the time between her last hit and the next grew. This frustration grew increasingly apparent, and Thor was ready to take it to his advantage.
As Sif stumbled backwards from a particularly hard shove against her, she growled, eyes burning. She righted herself, and charged towards him, sword at the ready. The thunderer, though appearing ready to take the attack head on quickly slid out of the way, sending the warrior maiden crashing into the wall.
Her head slammed painfully against the gold, and her sword fell from her suddenly limp hand. Vision spinning, she slumped to the ground, groping for something to right herself with. Cautiously, Thor moved to her side, one eye trained on Frigga, who suddenly looked worried and peeved.
Slowly turning her head, Sif blinked away the stars and stared blankly at Thor.
"I'm sorry," she whispered through heavy breaths. "I couldn't…it just…"
"I know," Thor breathed, relieved his friend had been freed from the control, at least temporarily. What had the Widow called it? Cognitive recalibration?
Now olive eyes shifted from the thunderer to something passed him. "AllMother…"
Realization flicking through his eyes, Thor whirled around in time to deflect a bright yellow bolt of magic thrown his way. Shock and a dose of fear shot through his being as Frigga stalked towards him, eyes burning blue.
"You remain a fool, Thunderer," she growled roughly. She chuckled darkly before lunging towards him.
Thor yanked Sif harshly off the ground, pulling both of them from his mother's controlled, malicious path. The wall behind them exploded with golden magic, sending chunks of rubble awry.
Sif shook her head, desperately trying to grasp back onto reality. A fleeting thought reverberated through her mind. A single possibility that could end this fight before it could begin.
"Gungnir," she muttered, fighting for her balance.
Two sets of eyes, both blue, but one more malevolent than the other, twitched to the other side of the room simultaneously.
Why in all the nine realms had he not done that in the first place?!
Thankfully, Frigga's fogged mind hadn't picked up on it either. However, now they both were aware.
The warrior pushed off the ground and ran headlong towards the magical scepter. He glanced back briefly at the sound of a struggle, gratitude slipping into his eyes as he witnessed Sif wrap her arms around his mother's torso, effectively slowing down her attempts to attack him and obtain the scepter.
"GO!" she yelled, fighting for a grip.
Skidding to a stop next to his parents' bed and forcing himself to avert his eyes from the ghostly pale face of his father, Thor reached out and plucked Gungnir from Odin's stiff hand.
Sudden, golden light spread from the contact point and continued until it enveloped the entire staff. Immense power swiftly shot through his veins, causing him to step back in surprise. He could've sworn it was singing. However, just as quickly as it came, it dispersed, only leaving a faint glow around it.
In this time, Frigga had freed herself from Sif's grasp, the warrior maiden left on her knees to bite back the immense pain of her now burned arms. The queen ran towards her son in a blind attack, golden fire arcing around her hands.
Whispering a silent apology to one who could not hear, Thor braced himself for her assault, grabbing her dress when she made contact, and swinging her around so her back was on the wall. Before she could retaliate, Gungnir's tip was pressed to her chest, golden and white light arcing from it and into her abdomen. White veins crawled up her neck and the cerulean faded, replaced with the softer, maternal blue Thor had grown to recognize as his mother's.
She took one breath, blinking away the tendrils of control that remained. Her eyes drifted to the body on the bed and in a single, soul-crushing moment, she remembered everything.
Frigga could do little more than collapse into her son's arms. Thor did nothing to stop her.
They stood there for several minutes; a weeping mother in the arms of her scarred child. Sif watched from afar, nursing her wounds and unsure of how to respond.
This short battle had been won, but there was a war outside these doors.
The king was dead, with his queen as the only explanation. Jotunheim and Asgard fought in the very halls they had just trudged through, blind and unaware that the ruler of the nine realms had fallen. Then there was the matter of Loki, and the two assassins he had brought along with him. Where were they? She wondered. She could only hope the lives of the Midgardians had been spared from these dire circumstances.
And Loki. What of him? Having now been under the same control he had, she had to wonder how true his accounts had been.
She shook her head, cradling her scorched arms to her chest. No, he had still killed people and nearly killed Odin himself two years ago, even without the control of the Chitari. Besides, now wasn't exactly the time to worry about it. She'd dwell on it later.
Her head rose at the sound of the queen speaking, barely discernible through her tears.
"Thor," she whispered. "Odin is gone…and Asgard needs a king."
His eyes widened and he stepped back. "I…I cannot. I am not ready."
The queen smiled softly, sniffing, and set her hand on his as she pulled away from him. "You are. Odin knew that," she muttered, her eyes sliding to Gungnir.
Thor sighed heavily, tightening his grip on the scepter.
Was he ready? Somehow, the thought of his father believing he was did little to sway his uneasiness. The last time he had nearly been crowned…that had been the beginning of this entire fiasco. Maybe if he hadn't been so eager, maybe if he had waited and recognized that he had not been ready, then none of this would've happened; not the attempted destruction of Jotunheim, not the Chitari incident, not the death of his father.
But now he was older and he could clearly see he had been wrong then in his actions. Maybe he wasn't quite ready, but right now, whether or not he was ready didn't matter. Asgard needed a king in this dire time and the realm wasn't going to wait for him to be prepared.
Today, Thor Odinson would become king of Asgard.
This wasn't exactly how he imagined it panning out, though.
Resolve settling into his form, the thunderer straightened and set his jaw.
"The Chitari's control…," he began before being interrupted.
"It wasn't the Chitari, Thor," she muttered as she pulled a white sheet over Odin's body, remorse in her eyes and a limp that hadn't been there before in her gait.
Thor blinked for a moment. "That was why I was confused. We destroyed them."
"You destroyed most of them," Frigga corrected. "You didn't destroy their leader."
"The Other? He was slain not one week before."
"Not him, my son," the queen said quietly, turning back towards him, a slight fear tinged with anger in her expression.
"Thanos."
The warrior blinked once, opened his mouth, closed it, and blinked again, expression dumbfounded. However, it wasn't him who broke the sudden, uneasy silence.
"That cannot be possible," Sif deadpanned, shaking her head from where she stood. Her gaze grew distant. "He was just a story. Even Loki told us he was a story."
"He is far from a story," Frigga declared, "The things he did before you were born…are unspeakable. He was sealed away in the realm between realms for so long…we had forgotten him and his obsession with courting Death. Now he has returned."
"And what does he seek?" Thor said forcefully, absent mindedly testing the differing weights of Mjolnir and Gungnir.
"The infinity gauntlet, a device too powerful for anyone to hold control of."
"It doesn't work, though, does it?" the warrior maiden wondered as she walked slowly closer. "That was in the stories; Odin spread the gems that powered them across the realms."
"Then it has taken this long for Thanos to find them again," concluded the queen with a sigh.
Before anyone else could speak, a crack of rolling thunder shook the ground, followed by the tremble of the floor beneath them. Three sets of eyes flew upwards and to the window outside, to a dark sky whose clouds still hung low and ominous.
On the horizon, a blue streak of light had been ripped asunder, its center torn open to reveal a fleet of ships ready to tear apart the weakened world on the other side.
It was in that moment that Thor knew nothing would ever be the same again.
BeepBoop, Things are going to get worse than this~ ;)
Thanks for reading! Reviews are super helpful and make me happy! Y'know, just a hint~