As with so many things on Niflheim, Roska heard Vergelmir before she saw it. The crash of waves reverberated with such strength that she barely recognized the sound. Roska was used to the gentle lap of water on Asgard's shoreline. The waves of Vergelmir smashed against the rock surface of Niflheim like the front line of a charging army.

Roska stopped opening rifts and instead walked the remaining distance to Vergelmir. The water rose up in dark walls topped with grey foam. She stood just on the edge where the fallen waves could stretch their grasp no farther. Cold radiated from the water. The winds from the plains whipped into a frenzy. The surface of the well was not particularly beautiful, but from it rose tiny droplets of water that reflected the faint orange light so they appeared as small glowing orbs. The droplets formed streams and eddies and whirlpools as they lifted ever upwards to disappear in the hazy clouds.

If she had the time, Roska could have remained gazing up at the water droplets for days. She would have found the patterns, the connecting points, and perhaps guessed which realm the droplets were intended for. Roska knew she did not have the time, but she would allow herself a few moments of peace.

The journey had felt especially long ever since she had confronted Loki. Or since she had lived his dreams. Roska was not entirely sure which event had sparked the changes.

Determined not to fall prey to distractions, Roska refocused on her priorities. She had yet to come up with an end to her plan. Retrieve the Fang, kill the All-Father, and then… what? Loki needed to have a relatively secure hold on the throne. Should he defeat Thanos, his position would be clinched for millennia, but until then the other realms would, at the very least, need to fall in line as they did for the All-Father. Roska considered scenarios of having Loki create illusions of Odin giving him the throne, eliminating Thor, and other possibilities, but none of her ideas felt quite right. She spoke with Loki about it, but sparingly as neither one of them came up with anything workable.

Roska also took the opportunity to catch Loki up on what had been happening on Asgard since he was gone. She questioned him on a policy or potential issue between realms to hear his opinions. That niggling sensation at the back of her mind was thankfully quiet through all of it. No doubts.

Any other subject Loki brought up, Roska diverted back. He tried talking to her about magic. She brought up changes to the members of the Casters' Table. He made mention of a market she had frequented. She spoke up on a minor fluctuation in the economy. Roska attempted to make the transitions feel natural, but unlike Loki, she did not have a gift for words.

Loki was often silent now. He looked annoyed, and more worrisome was that he often appeared bored. Roska feared that one morning she would wake up and he would be gone.

Only, Loki would not abandon her. No. Of course not. He knew that Thanos might attack Asgard, and that he needed to be on the throne, and that he needed her to get there. Loki would not have come with her all this way to leave right before they reached the Preemond.

Weeks dragged with those thoughts in Roska's head. Strangely, most of her private debates were the same ones she had in the Filrar, but they did not feel the same. They had a weight that discussing books or magic did not. She recalled wishing for Loki to cease his endless chattering, but now that he was quiet, Roska wished he would talk more to fill up the silences with his musings instead of her concerns.

Roska gazed at the droplets swirling above her, imagining they were a river carrying her back to Asgard where her life had been more straightforward. The pattern changed, and Roska glanced over to her left. Loki had lifted a hand to split the stream in two.

They should not delay much longer.

"Wait here," instructed Roska. "I shall return presently."

Using the wind, Roska lifted herself up at an angle so as not to disturb the droplets. When she was high enough to overlook Vergelmir, she took out the book of maps. Someone had mapped out portions of Vergelmir. Roska matched up whirlpools and a couple of currents, and was pleasantly surprised to find that they were very close to the Elivagar. As soon as she spotted the mountain range, she would be able to take them up and over to Rijd's Valley.

Roska lowered herself to the ground and beckoned to Loki.

"We are almost there," she informed him.

As they picked up their pace, Loki asked, "So what exactly are we doing once we reach the Preemond? Will we be searching their camp?"

"If it comes to that," Roska said. "But first, I will speak with their leaders."

"I hope you do not intend to just ask nicely for the Fang."

Roska tilted her head back and forth. That was, in essence, her plan. She would not tell the Preemond what she needed the Fang for, but she would explain the necessity of the situation, what her position was as the Draugr, and that she was only borrowing the Fang for a short period.

Loki scoffed. "The Preemond may be simple-minded, but I do not expect it will be quite that easy to take the Fang from their grasp."

"It may not be," Roska granted. "But if the Preemond leaders do not give us the Fang, they will take additional precautions knowing someone is searching for it. Invisible, we will watch and listen to what happens after and hopefully the Fang's location will be revealed."

With a shake of his head, Loki stated, "This is not the best idea."

"Why not?"

"Because by talking to them, you would be showing our hand. I have seen how tactful you are with others. Besides, Odin is stabbed just after the Fang goes missing? Even the Preemond are not dim enough to miss the connection."

Roska pointed a finger at him. "You said yourself that almost no one comes to this realm, and the Preemond are not interested in any of the power struggles existing beyond Niflheim. And with the exception of yourself and Odin, no one is aware for a certainty that I exist."

"Still. Someone might go looking, especially if everyone suspects that I killed Odin." Loki gave her a small smile. "Which they likely will."

"Well, they would not be wrong," Roska noted. "But I am still working on that part of the plan. I am sure between the two of us we will come up with something."

Loki did not look reassured. "Will we? Because months have passed and neither you nor I have come up with a viable conclusion to this venture. How long do you expect me to wait exactly?"

"Not long." Roska did not want him to be waiting at all. Asgard needed Loki on the throne as soon as possible. "As long as we dispose of the All-Father, that is half the battle won."

"I am less worried about that first half of the battle than the second. Claiming the throne has many complications. There is the matter of Thor, for example."

Roska did not respond immediately. She had continued to debate with herself about what was to be done with Thor. The simplest solution might be to kill him, although both his and the All-Father's death in succession would look highly suspicious. Also, that tiny niggling sensation in the back of her mind had an equally small voice that told her it might be best to leave Thor as an option for the throne, just in case anything were to happen with Loki.

"He will be dealt with as necessary," Roska stated, for that was as much of a solution as she could offer.

"It will seem suspicious if the All-Father and Thor both –"

"I know. As I said, I am still working on the plan."

"Perhaps you should have come up with an entire plan before enacting it."

Annoyed at the blithe accusation in his tone, Roska retorted, "Perhaps you should have made more of an effort to be as likeable as Thor, and thus you would have allies on Asgard that might make this plot less difficult."

A muscle twitched in Loki's cheek. "Trying to be likeable did not seem to get me very far with you," he asserted with a calmness that did not quite match his expression.

"Likeability is a distraction. Fate is objective, and so I make only objective decisions." Loki chuckled, and Roska shot him an irritated glance. "That is amusing to you?"

"Quite."

Roska had no desire to fight, and so bit back the question of exactly why he found her assertion so amusing. "Just let me know if you think of anything, and I shall do the same."

But as much as Roska thought, she could come up with nothing that would ensure that Asgard stood behind Loki in taking the throne. The Aesir loved Thor, not his brother. If only she could make them see that Loki was the king they needed to keep Fate in balance, but it was not within her power to force them to understand. Even Loki did not wish to take the throne for that specific reason.

Roska imagined what would happen after the All-Father died. Thor was meant to become king. Suppose he did. On Midgard, Thor had asked Loki to come home. If Loki was there to offer advice, might Thor listen to him? If Thor made a decision that Loki suggested, the Aesir would swallow it whether or not they agreed. Thor made choices based too often on feeling, but he was not a complete fool and he did have much experience in battle. Should Thanos attack while Thor was king and Loki offered sound advice for how to defeat him, then that could keep Fate on a stable course.

Could she be making the wrong choice?

No. Roska knew better. Thor would act with his heart. Should strategies go astray, he would try to save as many people as possible instead of concerning himself with the larger threat. And after what happened on Midgard, she was not convinced Thor would listen to Loki. Or, to be fair, that Loki would agree to play advisor to his brother. Loki had to be the one on the throne.

At first Roska spotted lumps pressing upwards from the smooth ground, with a hazy quality that made them appear to be a mirage. Once Roska and Loki had moved closer, she realized that that the rising forms were the Elivagar. Excitement and nervousness twined in her belly. The Preemond should be just on the other side, and with them, the Fang of Fenrir.

Roska opened a rift to take them to the base. The mountains towered above them, made of the same black rock, but their surface was not smooth. The rock cracked and bumped, rising to jagged peaks coated with greyish snow. Above one of the highest peaks, clouds whirled in a dark tempest, lightning lashing the snow with whips of crackling white.

They set up camp there at the base where a hollow blocked most of the winds. Roska planned on making several long jumps between rifts to get them to Rijd's Valley and needed to be well rested. When she woke, Roska also decided to change into a clean set of garments and washed herself in case the Preemond might find her odor offensive.

Roska took them high up the closest mountain. The air was frigid and the snow came up nearly to her shoulders, but Roska did not keep them in place long. She created rifts to take them across the Elivagar until she saw a familiar shape below them. Rock curved from the base of the mountain like arms embracing Rijd's Valley. She brought them down to the outside of the right arm so as not to appear suddenly in the midst of the Preemond.

Sparse, dead-looking grass crunched underneath their feet. Roska wiped sweat from her brow and knocked snow from her boots as Loki pulled off his travel cloak to shake the snow free.

The Fang could rest right on the other side of the rock wall. Nerves rose inside Roska in a feeling not unlike falling, but less pleasant. This would go well. It had to. Fate rested on her ability to retrieve the Fang. Roska touched the twist of braids at the back of her head and checked her armor, making sure she appeared presentable.

When she looked up, Loki was regarding her with a grin. "I hardly think it necessary you worry about your appearance. It is not as if we are meeting with foreign dignitaries. The Preemond are barely above animals."

"The Preemond will have a first impression of me," Roska stated. "I would like it to be a good impression."

Loki did not reply, but his lingering grin was enough of a response.

As they entered Rijd's Valley, the unhealthy grass grew denser until it formed a thick carpet. Each footfall released a cacophony of snaps like bones breaking underneath their feet, an apt soundscape for this place.

Long ago, the Vanir queen Rijd had been exiled to Niflheim. She had claimed this valley where she lived with her family and a few loyalists who had been banished alongside her. History did not record what happened to Rijd and her people. The poisonous air should have claimed their lives eventually. Instead, a scryer tasked with keeping an eye on Rijd reported that she and the others had disappeared seemingly overnight leaving only grass stained wet with blood. From notes Roska had recovered in her search for information about the Fang, she suspected the Preemond were involved. This valley was one of their holy places after all, though Roska had no knowledge of the specific religious practices involved.

Roska estimated it was about a day's walk from one side of the valley to the other and a few more to cover the valley in its entirety. Rather than spend days searching for the Preemond, Roska lifted herself up into the air high enough that she could look over the valley for their camp. She spotted a couple of small groves of trees and a rock formation close to the center of the valley. She saw the grass nearest to the entrance of the valley rippling in the faint breeze. What she could not find was the Preemond, or indeed any signs of their camp.

As her belly sank, Roska pulled herself up higher on the winds to see if the Preemond were still traveling towards Rijd's Valley. Nothing caught her eye. Roska stared for several long minutes, waiting for a shift on the horizon. When the line remained flat and unmoving, she lowered herself to the ground. She felt an unpleasant sensation similar to when her astral form lifted out of her body, her skin not quite attached to her, her head expanding.

The Preemond were supposed to be here. She was sure she had calculated the length of the journey from Midgard with relative accuracy. Even if their route had taken longer than expected, it should not have been that much longer. And according to her research, the Preemond made a pilgrimage to Rijd's Valley for years. If the information in the text she read had been accurate. If.

"Well?" said Loki.

"They are not here," Roska admitted. "We… we must be early."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Or late."

"No. They will come. We just have to wait." Roska sat down, crossed her legs, and stared out at the horizon.

Sighing, Loki leaned against the rock wall and folded his arms.

They waited. Loki became impatient before long and stated that he was going for a walk. Roska was torn about whether to follow him, to protect him from meeting the same end as Rijd and also to ensure that he was close at hand when the Preemond did arrive. However, should anything arise, she could locate him in the valley by bending the light, and so she nodded and resumed her watch.

After a while, Roska decided that the rock wall was a better vantage point, so she perched on top. The horizon did not change. She tried closing her eyes for a time and opening them again. It did not help. She pulled her legs towards her chest, resting her chin on her knees. That tiny niggling sensation in the back of her mind had returned, only it was not small anymore.

"The Preemond have to come," Roska whispered to herself. "They have to."

The niggling sensation was not impressed by her conviction. It spread forward not only in her mind, but down her neck and into her chest, squeezing at her insides, making her feel ill.

Loki came and went as she sat – or slept – waiting.

Eventually, Roska decided to attempt casting the rune stones. She asked how close the Preemond were and threw the stones. They showed her blank faces. She tried asking when the Preemond had last been to Rijd's Valley. No answer. She made the questions broader. Do they ever travel to Rijd's Valley? Were the Preemond moving at all? No responses.

Beginning to wonder if she were doing something wrong in her frustration, Roska asked a question whose answer could not possibly have an effect on her Choosing. She asked where Loki was at the moment. The stones landed face up and from them she interpreted that Loki was in the grove of trees farthest from where she sat. Roska stepped up into the air and, sure enough, saw a tree shake as he bumped it.

Roska dropped to the stone wall. She sat with her legs dangling over the edge and scooped up the rune stones. She traced her finger over the carved ridges, remembering when the Norns had placed the stones in her hands and watched as she threw them for the first time. She had asked the question, "Who am I?" That might not seem a simple question to some, but the Norns explained that the answer for Children after their Birthing should be straightforward.

Carefully, Roska arranged the stones beside her as they had fallen on that day.

The answer had been relatively simple. Cold was the most obvious. She had been naked and wet, shivering at the temperature. The runes for Fate, Norns, Youth, and Death in their specific positions showed that she was a Child of Norn, specifically the Draugr. Child was also in line with Female, meaning she was a girl. Knowledge raised high above Bounty with a rune that meant something like Containment between the two relayed that she had a head filled with nearly too much information. Desire near Fate with a rune that could mean Sunlight or Happiness or a number of other things gave her pause, but Roska worked out that the combination in relation to the other stones meant she was eager to fulfill her duty to Fate.

While that much had not taken long to interpret, the final two runes had been problematic. The rune Erayz when turned nearly upside-down meant Tangled. The rune Ljk on its side meant Open. When used in combination, Erayz above Ljk indicated a problem and Ljk above Erayz meant a solution. When Roska had tossed the stones, these two runes had landed in perfect alignment. Roska had puzzled over the placement of the runes, attempting to incorporate them into the combinations of the other stones, but she could not make sense of their meaning.

The Norns in their wisdom had explained. One day she would be faced with a Choosing, so Fate was uncertain about the path she might walk. Roska had been very nervous that she might make a decision that would cause a problem rather than a solution.

She still was nervous.

Roska gathered the rune stones, the question already forming on her lips. She expected the stones to turn up blank, but even so she asked, the ancient language crackling in her mouth.

"Who am I?"

The stones clattered down. And landed with the runes facing up.

Roska spotted Erayz and Ljk immediately, still in perfect alignment. The runes indicated that she was a Woman, instead of a child. The runes for Draugr were there too, although the rune in the combination for Woman appeared closer to those for Draugr than the rune for Girl had been.

The rune stone in the center of the web drew her attention before she could interpret the rest. Roska picked it up. She had never asked for guidance and been answered with this particular rune in the alignment in which it had fallen, but she knew exactly what it meant.

Doubt.

Roska's fingers curled around the stone, trembling. She was having doubts. Her plan to get the Fang, it was only a half-formed plan to start with and already it displayed signs of falling apart. The Preemond were meant to be at Rijd's Valley, but they were not here and she had waited and waited. She could not wait forever. Loki would not wait. And if Thanos came to the Nine Realms… But what was she supposed to do? She had never needed a contingency plan. Fate guided her steps. Fate had taught her that there was a single solution if one just asked for it. But now she could not ask.

Veins rose on her hand as Roska clutched the stone tightly. There must be a way to put Loki on the throne. Otherwise her Choosing would be over. Unless she had already missed her chance, and she had to admit defeat for her Choosing to truly be at an end. She gazed down at the remaining rune stones and imagined seeing Erayz rising above Ljk. Problem. Thanos could attack and she would have failed to keep the balance of Fate.

Roska blinked at the tears forming in her eyes.

Below her, grass snapped as Loki approached. Although he was visible to her, Roska did not form the same casting. She did not want him to see her, not at this moment. She did not want to look at anyone. Her Choosing, it had felt like a responsibility, but never until right now had it felt like a burden, and one she wished to be free of. She hated herself for feeling that way.

Loki stopped and glanced around. He paced in a circle, occasionally looking upward like he expected that she was surveying the horizon from far above.

When she did not appear, his brow creased. "Roska?"

Loki walked a short distance away and back, inspecting the ground and his surroundings more carefully. He stuck one foot out in front of him in the area where they had been making camp, moving as though he might encounter her sleeping form. He stopped finally and appeared to be thinking.

Roska realized that Loki might decide she was gone, walk off, and not come back, at which point her Choosing would be forfeit. She wanted to curl up in a ball and not be responsible, to let it end. But that would mean regaining her Sight to see what terrible future she may have wrought. Instead, Roska made herself visible.

Loki spotted her out of the corner of his eye and turned. His lips moved, but he must have made a comment to himself for nothing he said reached Roska's ears. He walked over to the bottom of the wall.

"Might I have a word?" Loki called up at her.

Reluctantly, Roska gathered up her rune stones and put them in their pouch, except for the rune stone in her hand. Doubt. She kept it between her fingers and opened up a rift so that she landed with a crack sitting on the grass.

"I take it there have been no sign of the Preemond?" Loki questioned.

Roska shook her head, a lump rising in her throat.

Loki appeared neither surprised nor disappointed. "I think it best we abandon this plan. I have not thought up a new plan yet, but I am sure I can come up with some way of landing myself on the throne. This has certainly been an entertaining distraction in the meanwhile."

Roska stared at him. "An entertaining distraction?" she repeated faintly, each word shaking like the fist in which she held the rune stone.

Loki shrugged. "What else would you call it? The goal was not achieved, but at least the journey was not uneventful."

Was that all she had done? Distracted them for a while? The lump in Roska's throat rose higher, threatening to turn into a scream, one of anger or anguish.

"We will sleep. Then, we will go," Loki commanded.

Desperation flattened the scream so that Roska could speak. "Just a few more days. The Preemond may still arrive."

"I do not think so."

"But we came all this way. Please."

"No. You may stay if you wish, but I am leaving."

"Where will you go? I have the book of maps."

"And I studied it enough to know how to get to the gap that will take me to Asgard." Loki turned his back on her. "You will not change my mind."

Roska thought quickly. "At least allow me to give you a night of peaceful rest, for I will not have one regardless." If she lived Loki's dreams again, he would sleep longer, therefore giving her more time.

Loki glanced back at her with anger flashing in his eyes. "No." His tone softened minutely. "A clever attempt to keep me here, but not clever enough, I'm afraid."

As he vanished, Roska pressed her face to her hands. The rune stone felt cold against her cheek, and the weight of her failure crushed in. She squeezed her eyes shut and reached with the Sight. Fog swirled around her, dark and impenetrable. She was still in her Choosing. Unless Chaos was clouding her sight, surrounding the Nine Realms because she had failed.

"What would you have me do?!" Roska screamed into the fog. In one hand she clutched the imaginary string that tethered her to the physical dimension, in the other she clasped the amulet of Fate. "What would you have me do?!" Silence and swirling fog thickened around her. She was lost.

If Loki was not on the throne, she was of no use to Fate. Her decision-making had failed. The next Draugr could do better. They may find a way. Perhaps her path had been to realize that much. That she would doom them all, but another could give Fate a chance to remain in balance.

The ground beneath her feet tilted and shook as Roska followed the string back. When she opened her eyes, the real ground also shook. Tears ran down her cheek as she looked up at the hazy orange clouds, energy dark and light flowing freely out of her, tearing at the fabric of the world. A horrible grating, shuddering bellow rent the air.

Appearing in a flash, Loki shouted over the bellow, "Is this your doing?"

Roska did not reply. At her back, the rock wall split. Small rocks bounced against her shoulders and upturned face. She saw a large piece of the rock break off and come hurtling down towards her. Acceptance rallied in her breast. She had done what was right.

A force plowed into her and in a blink, Roska was not sitting, but on her back with Loki above her. He let go and looked at her with a cold authority.

"Stop this at once."

The grass crackled as lines split the stone beneath it. Roska barely felt her consciousness in her body. "I… failed…"

"Because this one ludicrous plan to get the Fang of Fenrir from the Preemond did not work? There are other ways I might claim the throne."

"You have not thought of any in months, or else you would be gone."

"So you are giving up?"

Roska shook her head, her movements slow. "I am allowing the next Draugr to take my place."

"Which is giving up." Loki sat back casually. "If that is your choice, then by all means continue."

A shard of irritation wedged itself into Roska's mind. The flow of energies from her body tapered; the trembling and bellow of sound lessened. "Giving up is not the choice I am making. I am choosing to give my life so that a more capable Draugr can be selected."

"I see," said Loki with a nod. "You are saying that the Norns are fools for selecting you to be the Draugr in the first place."

"No." The trembling stopped as Roska sat up, annoyed that Loki was twisting her words. "The Norns are not fools, and they did not select me. I was chosen by Fate."

"So then Fate made a mistake."

"Fate does not make mistakes. I made a mistake."

"What mistake?"

Roska frowned. Without being shown a true path by Fate, she could not pinpoint where she had gone wrong. "I – I do not know exactly where I made my first mistake, but I failed in my Choosing so –"

"Are you certain of that?" Loki interrupted.

Roska held out her arms to indicate the empty valley. "The Preemond are not here."

"The Preemond have nothing to do with your Choosing."

"What do you mean?"

Loki leaned towards her, losing some of his nonchalant air. "When I first asked you about your Choosing, you told me that you had chosen to make me king."

"Yes," Roska agreed.

"So why does that mean that the Preemond have to be involved?"

"The Fang –"

"The Fang does not necessarily have to be involved either." Loki contemplated a point in the distance. "Likely I will need to kill the All-Father, and the Fang of Fenrir would have made that much easier, but are Choosings meant to be easy?"

Her Choosing was the most difficult obstacle Roska had ever encountered, and the Norns had told her that a Choosing would test her. "No."

"So allow me to find another way for us," Loki offered. "If this journey has accomplished anything, it has allowed me to become acquainted with your skills."

Roska knew then why Loki had stopped her from being crushed. "I am not a tool to be used by you."

"I did not say you were," placated Loki with hands raised. "Although if being one means I take the throne, does it matter?"

Roska contemplated. As long as Loki ended up on the throne as quickly as possible, that was the most important thing. He was right. Her main choice was to make Loki king. Perhaps their journey had not been useless, and if they regrouped, a new option might present itself. Another Draugr could offer a different solution, but Loki did make a fair point about learning what skills she brought. He would need to start nearly from scratch with a new Draugr as their talents varied.

When Roska lifted her eyes, Loki gave her a smile. "I could still use an ally."

Roska folded her hands together and felt the weight of the rune stone trapped in her fingers.

"I am having doubts."

Those four words might have choked her once, but they came out with surprising ease. They unstoppered a mental blockage inside her and more came pouring out.

"About myself, and about my choice to set you on the throne," Roska explained. "Mostly I believe you are the king that Asgard needs, that Fate needs, but I… but there is no way to be certain. I have always known exactly what to do, what the consequences of my actions would be, but now there is a chance I could be wrong. With what happened during your time with Thanos and with who you have become, I just… Sometimes you make questionable decisions and you are vexing and you make me feel – feel like I might be wrong in putting my faith in you. I want you to be a great king, and I think you can be, but I cannot afford to be wrong."

Loki tipped his head, looking intent in his silence. Roska thought she might have said something that did not make sense to him, though she knew not what.

"Do you understand what I am saying?" she asked.

"I understand," Loki said. He appeared solemn. Moreover, he looked earnest, which could very well be a façade, but somehow Roska thought it was not. "I cannot offer many certainties, but I can tell you that I will never stop trying to become a great king."

Roska blinked, sliding into the Sight. Still fog. Possibly Chaos, but likely her Choosing had not yet reached its end. She blinked again and looked at Loki. She had to have faith that Fate had selected her for a reason, and that she should trust her instinct. And so she should trust Loki, to an extent anyway. Enough to make him king.

"Then I am still your ally," Roska declared.

Loki broke his solemnity with a grin. "Good. Because it would be a much longer walk to the gap without you."

As he spoke, Roska spotted something behind him that made her heart lift.

"Except we will not be heading to the gap yet. Fate has sent us a sign," Roska stated. When Loki's brow furrowed, she pointed behind him. One of the Preemond was coming their way.


Author's Note:

If you would like to see the rune stone castings, I have included images in this chapter on Archive Of Our Own. I think the visual makes it easier to imagine exactly what Roska is looking at.