Jaycee wakes up with what feels like vicious bruising all over her body. She shifts against the hard surface under her back, trying to stretch the pain out of her limbs. Her memory comes back slowly and she sits up as carefully as possible, surveying her surroundings.
She's alone in what looks like a really well-lit root cellar and kitchen. She is lying on a wooden table, a rough, slightly lumpy pillow under her head, with scratchy wool blankets draped over her legs. Her head feels awful but she's pretty used to that in her life at this point. There is no one around but she still keeps her movements as quiet as possible, wary that someone might be watching her.
She can't remember much of what happened after she felt the adrenal attack take over on the rooftop in New Mexico. She remembers Loki standing over her, bargaining, chains closing over his wrists. She remembers rainbows and if she had to guess she'd say she was on Vanaheim. She knows the rebellion eventually surrounded them on the rooftop and she doubts Tyr would have covered her with blankets if his goblin army had gotten to her first. Loki was with her but she doesn't know where he is now, an unfamiliar pang of worry for him hitting her hard.
Thinking of the trickster brings back memories of his face over hers, yelling something at her, forcing something down her throat, a worried look creased deep on his pale skin as she struggles to live. Oh no. She scrambles in her sweat pants pocket and finds it empty, no extra vials, no syringes. A brief flicker of despair races through her before she viciously pushes it away. Without the beta-blockers, she's a walking time bomb, one adrenal episode away from…. No, no, don't think about that, you can't control that. Focus on the now.
She is sliding her legs off the edge of the table when a table opens above and a young, blonde man descends the stairs. "My lady!" he exclaims when he sees her sitting up. He comes toward her so quickly that she pulls the blankets up around herself in defense. He invades her personal space, babbling, "Oh thank goodness you're alright! We were really worried about you! So pale and so exhausted and the trickster stabbing you with that fluid and..,"
Jaycee puts up a hand and the man immediately shuts up. Wow, she wishes she could get Tony to obey like that. So, there are some perks to being a queen. "Sorry," he murmurs, "It's just that we've been looking for you for so long and now you are here and it's such an honor-,"
He abruptly stops as he sees her rubbing the bridge of her nose, her headache rearing its vicious head. "Water!" he exclaims, still far too ebullient for her. He runs over to the sink, favoring one leg slightly, filling a glass from a silver ewer. He brings it back to her and thrusts it into her hands, almost sloshing it all over her. She takes the water with as much control as she can muster because she still feels very week. He seems ready to burst with words but stays quiet until she has at least had a sip of water. "Anything else I can get you, my lady?" he asks and Jaycee is reminded of an eager puppy.
"I don't mean to be rude," she says, "But I don't know who you are or where I am."
"Oh! So sorry! You're on Vanaheim in the capital, Clarappidium, in one of the rebellion's safe houses. I'm Bjern," he gives her a small bow which she guesses is what passes for a hand shake around here. Suddenly he looks familiar and she peers at his leg.
"You were at the banquet," she says slowly, piecing memories together. "I dislocated your knee. Sorry about that," she says sheepishly, a hot blush creeping up her face. Great way to meet your subjects Jay-girl, by dislocating knees and stabbing shoulders.
Bjern blushes just as bright and Jay estimates that he can be barely out of his teenage years, so chipper, seemingly without coffee or even tea. "Well, it was a good strike," he says and Jay realizes with sudden clarity that this young man admires her and might be crushing on her, and oh goddess does she not know how to deal with this situation.
Fortunately, she is saved by the arrival of another one of the rebels, a man she has never seen before descending the stairs. His hair is long and dark, haphazardly pulled back at the nape of his neck, curling around the tanned skin of his neck. His eyebrows are slim but clearly expressive as he takes in the sight of Bjern talking to a still blanket-clutching Jay. He has eyes so pale that at a distance they look white. Jay decides he is somewhat attractive in a rugged, I'm-a-rebel way but not quite as attractive as…..
NONONONONONONONO. Not thinking about him.
When she has finished mentally berating herself he has come up to her side. "My queen," he says and sweeps a low bow. Then like any movie gentleman she has ever seen, he takes her hand and kisses it and instead of being repulsed like she would be with any of the Avengers or just about any man, Jaycee is flattered because suddenly she is realizing that she really is on Vanaheim and shit, she really is a queen. Her head spins and she lurches in his grip, exhaustion blending with disbelief and she can't keep herself upright.
"Careful," says the newcomer, gently gripping her shoulders and steadying her. "Bjern," he scolds the younger man, "Tiring out our queen already?" The tips of Bjern's ears go traffic-light-red and he mumbles but the new man just laughs. "I jest," he says to Bjern who laughs uncertainly in relief. Jay watches the exchange, seeing an interesting interaction.
"You are the rebellion's leader," she says, a statement and not a question. He looks at her and up close she sees that his eyes are the palest amber she has ever seen, like milky amber.
"They said you were clever," the man says with a smile. "Please, let me introduce myself. I am Njordon, and yes, I am the current leader of the rebellion on Vanaheim. It is a great honor to finally have you home on Vanaheim, Jaycee Strong, great-granddaughter of Sigyn, Queen of Vanaheim."
Too many titles, Jay thinks, It's just Jay. But her brain latches on one word in particular. Home.
"I apologize," she says, subtly wriggling out of his grasp, no matter how much she could use it to stay upright. "But I'm not sure you are putting your faith in the right person. I'm no queen."
Bjern's eyebrows crease in confusion but Njordon never blinks. "You may never have grown up as a queen or princess," Njordon tells her, "But blood sings to blood on Vanaheim. There is no doubt and no hiding that you are queen here in your homeland."
There's that term again. Home. "No, you don't understand," Jaycee protests, feeling each objection getting weaker under Njordon's sure gaze. Goodness he has self-confidence in spades and maybe clubs too. "I belong on Earth, Midgard as you call it here I guess. That is my home. I don't anything about your kingdom, I can't even speak your language-," But here she stops because she realizes that without any conscious thought, she is not speaking English. She hasn't been since she woke. Oh god, what is coming out of her mouth. How?!
Njordon sees her bafflement and smiles. "You know the Vanir language like you were born speaking it. You have magic just like all of the Vanir royalty of the past. And you are the true heir to the Vanir throne."
It's all too much for her and she silently thanks Bjern for noticing. "Perhaps she needs some more rest?" he suggests to Njordon. The leader looks at the confusion on Jaycee's face and the earnestness on Bjern's and realizes that her terror is real, not excuses to seem humble.
"My apologies, Lady Jaycee," he says. She almost snorts then, hilarity bubbling up inside of her. Lady Jaycee. She's overwhelmed, understanding that this is real, not some dream, not some long off engagement she will have to pick up. This is now, she is on Vanaheim, and oh no, these people truly expect her to wear a crown. She doesn't want it, never has wanted it. Even though the Avengers seem to think she could handle it, the only one who has ever wanted her to become queen is… Loki. Well and Tyr but more like he wanted to marry her and then kill her so that doesn't count. Speaking of the trickster and the one-handed berserk madman, where are they?
"What have you done with Loki?" she ventures. Njordon's face clouds over for the first time and Jaycee sees that even though most girls are probably charmed by him, anger doesn't sit well on his face. It doesn't make him ugly per say so much as wrinkles his face in all the wrong places, displacing his eyebrows in a weird way. Gods, she must still be loopy from the beta-blocker because she doesn't normally react this way. Ugh, this is not good.
"Loki is being… detained," Njordon chooses his words carefully and Jay is sorely tempted to do a little "magic" right then and read his mind. The animosity all Vanir have shown towards Loki is there on Njordon's face just like everyone else. She needs to know the full story. She's missing something critical from the fall of Vanaheim that has cemented this hatred between the rebels and Loki and she needs to understand it or else she's forever going to be in between the two. Jay doesn't like being in the middle. One side of the fence or the other. Straddling it kinda hurts; she knows, since Barton made her climb a great many when he was training her.
"Detained?" she asks, raising an eyebrow and is surprised when a pleased look crosses Njordon's face, making him break out in peals of laughter, clearly surprising Bjern as well. He is unabashed about it, grinning so wide with mirth.
"That look," he says when his gaiety subsides. "I thought I would never see it again."
Bjern gives Jaycee a look that says he is just as confused as her. "You were too young to remember, but that one eyebrow raised was something Sigyn used to do whenever she thought one of us was trying to get the better of her but she wasn't having it. I used to get that look on a daily basis and she was so good at it, so much muscular control over her eyebrows that it made us laugh for hours."
"Wait," Jaycee says, putting some pieces together. "You,… you.. knew Sigyn? But she disappeared almost a hundred years ago…, how..?"
Njordon laughs at her expression. "We are Vanir," he tells her as if that explains everything.
"You're immortal?" she asks in shock, having thought only the gods of Asgard could claim that right.
"Not immortal," he tells her. "We just age very slowly. We reach maturity around our twentieth year and cease to age externally at a rate you would be familiar with."
Baffled Jay lets her nerd slip. "Like Lord of the Rings elves," she mutters to herself.
"Sorry?" Njordon says with a bemused look.
Vanaheim suddenly starts to seem less like a bad thing and more like one of her fantasy or science-fiction novels. She suddenly wants to know everything, wants to see the city. What did Bjern call it? Clarappidium? And the sun coming in the window is more red than she's ever seen even though she guesses it's not morning or sunset. The devices in the kitchen around her a semi-familiar but as if from another age where magic and nature created the machines instead of steel and coal. Her curiosity surges to the surface and Njordon must see the yearning on her face because he offers her a hand.
"Come," he beckons. "Let me show you the kingdom of your ancestors. Let me show you Vanaheim."
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When Barton and Thor enter Nick Fury's "office" at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, they make sure to leave Tony behind. He's been on all sorts of a rampage, trying to convince them that Fury has portals to all of the Nin Realms and in general acting like the child that he is. They left him under guard with Natasha. Thank goodness for small miracles since this is going to be hard enough as it is.
Clint Barton has never liked to ask Fury for a favor. It never ends well and he doesn't want to be in debt to this man. He respects him, begrudgingly acknowledges his intelligence but never ever, can fully bring himself to trust Fury. The business with Jay Strong last year proved how little Fury cares about human emotions. The situation wasn't even remotely handled with finesse and Barton still holds that against him. He will never tell Jay but he was there the night they apprehended her. He's never seen anyone fight that hard to have their freedom and have it so brutally taken from them.
Fury is facing a wall size window, back to them when they enter. Thor immediately approaches Fury even though Barton had warned him to let Clint do the talking. Thor makes no pretense about it, simply grabs Fury by the shoulder, spins him around to face the scowling demi-god and puts Mjolnir right up under his chin.
Fury barely blinks his one eye. "Yes?" he drawls.
Caught off guard momentarily, Thor isn't quite sure what to do and Fury uses the hesitation to push the massive hammer aside. Barton rolls his eyes at Thor who reluctantly lets Fury go. Thor is thinking with his emotions, having just had his adopted brother and pseudo-sister whisked away to Vanaheim. He's been a raging mess in the New Mexico condo and Barton had to get him out of there as soon as possible. They decided that just Barton and Thor would approach Fury seeing as Tony was acting like, well, Tony, and Steve was a live wire again.
"Something I can help you with, gentlemen?" Fury asks, dusting invisible particles of dust off his long trench coat.
"We need to know if you have a way to contact the rebellion on Vanaheim," Thor says before Barton can approach the subject tactfully. At least the big guy gets right to the point.
Fury raises his one eyebrow. "And why would you need to do that?" Clint notices right away that Fury isn't denying anything which sets his senses to tingling. Not even a fake denial. That's almost out of character, almost too rehearsed. Not sure if he should mention it or not, Clint decides to take over before Thor continues to make the situation worse.
"Jaycee Strong was abducted by a rebel pocket from Vanaheim a night ago," Barton tells Fury. "Tyr's army was after her as well and we believe that the rebels got to her first and took her back to Vanaheim."
"Indeed," Fury ponders, still too much I'm-in-a play attitude on his face. "And you think I have a way to get in contact with them?"
"Natasha confirmed it," Barton fires back. "We know you've been talking to the rebel party there. You think it would be beneficial to have another ally should another alien attack occur on Earth."
"Ah," Fury says. "And you think Miss Strong is in danger?"
While Barton stops to mull this insight over, Thor plows on like an out of control Deere tractor. "Of course she's in danger!" He's yelling and Jaycee isn't here to remind him to use his inside voice, not that Barton minds that the demi-god is raring to tear Fury apart. "Who knows what he could do to her given his history with Vanaheim."
"Him?" Fury asks, eyes brightening and Barton curses Tor's lack of common sense.
"The rebel leader," Barton says as Thor is opening his mouth. Clint shoots a meaningful look at Thor that Fury watches with interest. Fury clearly doesn't think that Jay is in danger on Vanaheim, most likely because he wants her on the throne to secure an alliance with the Vanir. Thor almost just gave away the fact that Loki is most likely with Jay and they don't want Fury to know that Loki is back, not yet at least. Barton trusts Jay's judgement on Loki, even if she can't see how her emotions are playing with her thought process. He isn't the greatest threat to her right now and that has to be good enough for them.
"The rebel leader?" Fury asks. "You know him personally?"
"No," Barton replies, measuring his words. "But he ordered the attack on Jaycee at an astrophysics banquet she attended two nights prior. Strong was able to glean that information from the Vanir that attempted and then succeeded in kidnapping her. She sent this to us telekinetically and we acted as fast as possible to get here to ask for your help." He grits his teeth when he says it but he knows that some sucking up may be in order to get what they want from Ol' One-Eye.
"Do you have a way to get to Vanaheim or not?" Thor asks, losing patience. The thunder god is radiating agitation, clearly blaming himself for losing Jaycee and Loki.
Fury considers the two of them for a moment. "I do," he says after a lasting pause that has Clint gritting his teeth again, knowing that the director is drawing it out, weighing the options to make sure he gets his way. "We've been monitoring the situation on Vanaheim for some time. The rebellion is almost strong enough to challenge the Asgardian vassals and I'm not sure that would be such a good thing for us on Earth. We are allied with Asgard through Thor and we would not want the rebellion to destabilize the situation on Vanaheim. Jaycee would be an asset on the throne but I doubt the rebellion has her best interests at heart seeing as they are on the verge of starting a war with Asgard."
Barton logs this away, reading into what Fury doesn't say. He has been monitoring the rebellion to make sure it doesn't succeed. He wants Jaycee on the throne but only so he can control her and leverage an alliance between Asgard, Vanaheim and Earth. Knowing Fury, he's most likely been watching Jay for months, weighing her powers and judging her resistance to him. It was a smart move on his part to remain out of her life because it gave her the illusion that she was in control. Barton shudders to think about what Fury would do to keep Jay in line. Jaycee Strong is a rebellious little thing on a good day and Clint senses that Fury is not telling them something.
"We have constructed a portal with the aid of Asgardian engineers, if you want to call them that, that allows us to send one person at a time through space, the way the Bifrost on Asgard does," Fury tells them as he leads them to the elevator. They descend several levels and eventually arrive on a research floor. "We have used it successfully so far to embed spies in select locations on Vanaheim to evaluate and report on the situation there. I am willing to send you to Vanaheim but on a solitary condition."
And there it is, Clint thinks to himself. Thor is too busy looking around and prepping for the journey that he isn't picking up on the fact that something is very wrong here. "I would request that you persuade Jaycee Strong to take the throne," Fury tells them. Thor begins to protest but Barton cuts him off again, deliberately accepting without hesitating to throw Fury off his game.
The director of S.H.I.E.L.D. does indeed look off-put, but only for the smallest fraction of a second. "It's about time she took the throne," Barton tells Fury, pretending to be Jay and trying to telepathically tell Thor to keep his cakehole shut. "She even agrees and would have eventually come around if the rebellion hadn't made their move."
"Interesting," Fury says. "Perhaps she is growing up after all."
Barton nods, wishing Thor would wipe that baffled look off his face. Gods above Thor would be an awful poker player; his realization of what Clint is doing lights up his face like fireworks. Barton wants to kick him. If Fury notices he doesn't let on.
Fury leads them over to a complicated looking device with a very telling shape that says it is a portal. The machine is designed like an arched doorway, lined with sensors and complicated looking equipment that Barton is sure Jaycee could detail if she was here. Fury flicks switches, turns knobs and suddenly a bright rainbow light lines the edge of the circular archway and then coalesces, forming a bright hole light into space. Barton isn't sure he likes the idea of jumping into a dubiously constructed wormhole but Thor looks like a kid in a candy store.
Fury turns to look at them. "You have three days before I send someone after you. Convince Jaycee to take the throne. It's more important than you know." Thor doesn't stop to consider Fury's cryptic message and steps right in, disappearing into the infinity of space. Fury waves a hand towards the portal, encouraging Barton to go next.
They eye each other for a moment more, clearly at an impasse: Fury needs Barton to convince Jay, and Barton needs Fury to get Jay home. Clint breaks the gaze and steps towards the portal. He's not a great fan of this method of travel but it's going to have to do as he steps through the portal to Vanaheim.
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He steps out of the portal on Vanaheim, surveying the great capital city of Clarappidium from above. People go about their business below him, merchants hawking wares in the street, women hanging wash out to dry. They can't see him up on the cliffs that surround the city from three sides. Pity. He'd love to watch them run screaming away from him as he unleashes their armies on them but he must wait. There are only days now until they set their plan in motion.
Hel steps up to him side, running her long, bony fingers up the biceps of his whole arm. "Look at it," she says, licking her lips like a cat eyeing a fish. "So disgustingly bright and hopeful. What a perfectly cliché metaphor for that little spawn of Sigyn. She'll be down there somewhere, no doubt being introduced to the city by that peacock of a rebellion leader."
Tyr looks at her with a malicious smile. "Don't fret, love. We are so close. It will be a glorious day. Vanaheim, collapsing from the inside, it's rotten core showing. Old Odin won't even raise a hand when we start our civil war. He'll let them tear each other to shreds and then try to subject them to his rule again. The old fool has no idea what he will face when he tries for the capital."
Hel grins, the edges of her dead lips splitting. "Chaos," she whispers, as if she was seducing a lover. "Glorious chaos."
"Goblins and trolls and an army of the dead," Tyr muses. "Should we toast our success tonight or actually wait until the city has fallen?"
Hel pretends to ponder, placing one pale finger on her lower lips and playfully pulling it down. "Hmmmm," she says, rubbing her hands over his chest muscles. "I say we toast to the fall of Vanaheim tonight and then when the capital is ours, we toast again once the crowns are on our heads. With her blood in our goblets. To the new King and Queen of Vanaheim," she purrs.
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Syvlk regards their prisoner from the hallway outside the makeshift cell. Loki glares back at him, his eyes almost luminescent in the gloom. Njordon has gone to talk to the girl, leaving Syvlk to evaluate the situation with the trickster god. Njordon made it clear that he would tell Jaycee the story of Sigyn and Loki and set her perceptions straight but looking at the man before him, Syvlk feels a prickle of unease. They are missing something.
Syvlk is Njordon's second in command but that doesn't mean he doesn't question his leader. Whether or not any of the other rebels have noticed it, he sees the connection between her and the trickster, shining like a visible wire between them. She trusts him more than she trusts them right now. Njordon is charismatic and will most likely talk her around but Syvlk has been observing her for days now before they made their move. Jaycee Strong is clever, a very perceptive young woman and he doubts that Njordon will be able to sweet talk her the way that he has done with all of their female recruits.
Loki doesn't say anything to him, just watches him in that unnerving way that has his guards on edge. He is deadly calm and Syvlk can almost see him calculating the possibilities, finding the cracks in their defenses, in their rebellion, ready to use it to his advantage.
It never sat well with him, the way the past had small inconsistencies in it. He has been told the same story as everyone else, had witnessed parts of it himself. Every Vanir knows the story but as Syvlk watches Loki, and thinks about Jaycee, he doubts that they know the whole story.
He sighs, even then, it wouldn't matter. The tragic "love" story is one told to rebellion recruits to fuel their hatred of Asgardian rule. Syvlk himself feels anger stir when he thinks of how the trickster broke the Vanir queen's trust, sentenced her to her fate. Every Vanir remembers how Loki betrayed Sigyn to Vanaheim, how he captured her and turned her over to Odin in chains.