Torunn was drowning.
She was at the bottom of a endlessly deep black hole, and she couldn't breathe. She had been fighting to get out for an eternity now, attacking the walls of her grave-pit with her sword and her bare hands. She'd come close to victory a few times. Close… but had, ultimately, failed.
It was many times worse than when she had suffocated in near-Earth space, in part because she had already died this exact same way – and partly because she knew, in her heart, that her father couldn't save her now.
She wasn't anywhere near Bifrost or Asgard this time. She was locked inside herself.
The slimy blue thing that had shoved her down into this pit reappeared in front of her. Torunn knew – somehow – that none of it was really happening, that it was all in her head, but that didn't stop her from trying to get a fresh grip on her sword, the better to take the creature's head off.
She failed; she couldn't take more than a step before she crumpled to her knees, vision shaking and splintering from lack of oxygen.
Sorry, the blue slimeball said, standing over her. His skeleton luminesced through the semi-transparent material of his body. Ordinarily, I just wait these things out. You know, sit back, relax, allow nature to take its course. No point getting my hands dirty, as it were. But you have to die right now – I've got a bit of an emergency out there in the real world, and you're distracting.
You can't kill me, Torunn said, gasping and straining to lift her sword. Humiliation burned: she was too weak to fight a sack of jelly! What would her father think? She was almost glad he wouldn't be able to witness her death, if it was going to be so pathetic.
The slimeball grabbed her throat with one skeletal, oozing hand and squeezed. Jelly lips peeled back from ghostly teeth in a cruel leer. Watch me, princess.
Torunn struggled, but it was a lost cause and she knew it. She managed, with supreme effort, to make a token swing at the creature crushing the air from her chest. It wasn't much, but at least she could say she died fighting, like a true warrior –
Golden light exploded the blackness into trembling fragments. The slimeball let go with a shriek and Torunn dropped. She landed on her side, too stunned to right herself, and stared blankly at the firebird looming overhead.
GET OUT, a girl's voice boomed, OR I'LL BURN YOU OUT.
The slime creature backed away from Torunn. You can't!
WATCH ME. PRINCESS.
A wave of golden-white fire enveloped the blue slime body. The fire was beautiful, mesmerizingly so; every color in creation danced through the flames. Torunn watched in open-mouthed awe, too entranced by the wonder of it to notice that her enemy was screeching in pain.
The thing huddled on the "ground" in a smoking heap as the fire disappeared. His blue jelly body was cracked and charred. Chunks fell from its bones and disappeared into thin air before they hit the pit's floor.
I NEED YOUR HELP, the voice said to Torunn. The blazing firebird shivered and resolved itself into the figure of a girl about Torunn's age and size. She still glowed brightly enough that Torunn had to squint to see her, but her voice lost the cataclysmic boom: It's your mind and your body. I weakened him, but you have to be the one to drive him out.
I can't, Torunn said, hating to admit it – but what else could she say? Her hands had gone numb, and her vision was almost entirely obscured. To say nothing of the crushing weight on her chest that kept her from breathing more than a wheeze at a time.
Yes you can. Just… push him away. Come on – for the Avengers. For Asgard!
Here was another chance to die fighting – or maybe to not die at all. Hope blazed.
Torunn somehow heaved herself up onto her knees again and glared at the slimy blue huddle. Out, she gasped at him. Get out!
He twitched and slid away into the darkness, just a little. A very little.
That's it, the girl said, putting a hand on Torunn's shoulder. Strength flowed into Torunn, warm and golden; it was like being connected to a battery of life. Keep it up!
For Asgard.
Torunn picked up her sword. Forced her numb fingers to close around it.
For the Avengers.
She stood and found her balance.
For herself.
She raised her sword to the ready position, drew in a deep, clear breath, and roared, THOU ART BANISHED!
Thunder cracked. The blue slime creature howled as he was blasted away into oblivion. And then -
- she was lying on her back, coughing and gasping, blinking at the too-bright light shining through the windows of some shabby throne room. Combat swirled around her, shaking the ground and knocking dust loose from the ceiling; her fingers twitched on the handle of her sword, anxious to join the fight.
And Hawkeye was kneeling, holding her head on his lap, looking down at her with first worry and then relief.
"Hi," she said, voice weak and scratchy.
"Hi, beautiful," he said. "You had us worried."
"I'm… I'm okay." She sat up and looked around, rubbing self-consciously at her throat. The blue slime creature was sprawled unconscious on the steps of the dais nearby, an exhausted red-haired girl sitting beside him. She gave Torunn a tired little smile, and Torunn belatedly recognized her as the firebird girl from the pit.
Pym was stomping around at giant size, fighting a half-dozen people only slightly smaller. Most of the rest of the crowd seemed to be intent on fighting James and an old woman with an eyepatch. Closer to hand, Torunn also saw Azari and a boy Pym's age being knocked around by a woman with pink skin and protruding bones.
Torunn's first instinct was to go help at least one of those beleaguered people. She wasn't back to full strength, but she was positive that she could smite somebody.
Although it turned out that she couldn't, at least not right away, because Hawkeye caught her wrist as she stood, pulled her back, and kissed her full on the mouth.
The kiss was quick enough that she almost missed it – but even so, it made her run out of air all over again. She didn't mind as much, this time.
He smiled at her, his dark eyes sparking. "I'm glad you're okay."
Heat flooded her face and tingled down her spine. "Me too."
He winked, and then waded into the fray, firing arrows with quick, cool precision, taking more of the enemy out of commission.
She had to force herself to stop smiling – it wouldn't do for an Asgardian warrior to have such a dopey expression – before she followed. To make sure everyone knew she was coming, she gave the loudest, fiercest battle cry she could manage. Then, as her opponents looked upon her with fear in their cowardly hearts, she started smiting.
It felt good. Very, very good.
And it ended abruptly when someone shrieked, "Nate!"