A/N Dear Readers HELLLOO! It has been along time since I've posted but I haven't forgotten about you or about this story, but I have been busy I am actually taking a creative writing class now so I had to leave the world of FF to focus on course work BLAGH! I want you to know that i still appreciate every review, favorite and follow that you all have given. It has been your support that encouraged me to pursue my writing in an more academic setting, so I thank you for that! Thank you Thank you Thank you! I'm hugging you through the computer. Anyway this chapter is the climax of the story to me. It is the part that I invisioned since I saw the trailer for the Dark-World. Without further ado I give your the chapter. Happy reads and writes and God bless you all!

The once prince of Asgard had to admit he was impressed with the laboratory that Malekith provided him with. It was a spacious quarter. Still, the room was smaller than his laboratory in the palace or his study at the university, but the small conditions had afforded him the privacy he needed to work. The room was designed with the gothic architecture of the Dark-Elves:gnarled, archaic and brusque darkly colored, dimly lit and sparsely furnished. The shelves were dusty and filled with cobwebs. The equipment that the Dark-Elves had provided him with was out of date, not surprising considering that the ship had been indisposed for nearly one thousand years, but it was most of the items in the jars and vials were still in good condition and certainly manageable. It was far from attractive, especially to one who had grown up in alabaster palaces, and learned in crystal cathedrals and marble temples. Despite its lack of aesthetic appeal it had everything Loki needed and that was where Loki found himself being impressed. The laboratory was well supplied with several cabinets and shelves filled with roots, herbs, chemicals and all manner of other ingredients that he would need. Many of the items were very rare indeed. Items that would be hard to find in Asgard today. Items that he would have most likely had to buy or barter off of a black market gypsy for a high price. The ingredients needed for the potion were rare. The potion was rare. Few had ever possessed the power of lightening and thunder. But when Wayland, the ancient forger had created the magnificent weapon he went to the Norns to learn if there was anything that could stop his creation, just in case it fell into the wrong hands. The Norns provided him with such an elixir. The secrets lost to ancient text and unused until now.

A cruel smirk slithered across Loki's gaunt, angular face as he emptied the contents of a tiny vial into a round bottomed bottle. Just a few drops of the bright red syrup into the round bottomed beaker filled with a purple ooze caused the potion to bubble. Loki's long fingers immediately found a cork in one of the drawers on the experiment desk and plugged it into the mouth of the bottle. The cork sealed the froth and bubbles inside until they settled. He watched as the mixture changed in color from a purplish tint to a bright lime green color. A smile once more played on his thin lips. It was nearly done now. He just needed one more ingredient. Loki rubbed his palms together gleefully, he nearly snorted in his excitement as he went back over to the shelves and sifted through them trying to find the last item. Loki's index finger roved through the categories of the vials and jars and pouches. The names and labels on the jars were written in the guttural language of the Dark-Elves and although he understood enough of the language to translate and hold conversation it took a considerable amount of effort to try and interpret the chicken scratched hieroglyphics that they used for a written language.

As the ex-son of Odin continued to try to read the labels on the vials the opaque door to the laboratory whooshed open. As the tinted doors slid open a dark mist was released from the ceiling and floorboards at the threshold of the opening concealing the identity of the one who entered. "You have been in here for several hours," Malekith announced as he stomped toward the black table that held vials and bottles and beakers and cylinders. His black gloved finger slid over the onyx tabletop causing it to squeak under the inspection. He looked into the vial and containers, sniffing at the contents of the of the vials. "What is taking so long?" the war lord growled

The emerald eyed enchanter kept his back toward the white face fiend as he continued searching through the shelves for the item that he needed. "Patience." he responded slowly, carefully, "Patience, all good things to those who wait," he recited to the general. "it takes time to concoct a potion such as this," He explained as he lifted a medium sized brown bottle from the shelf and popped open its cork. Loki's pointed nose to a quick whiff of the contents. He made a disgusted face then immediately plugged the bottle back up and plopped it back on to its rightful place on the shelf.

"Time that we don't have," Malekith argued. 'Every second that passes brings us closer and closer to Convergence, closer and closer to the moment I will watch my vengeance unfold!" He proclaimed as he tossed his head back and lifted his hands in clenched fist of victory. "I want to make sure nothing and no one can interfere with that." he spat finally. He turned his gaze back toward the enchanter who still paced around the room searching for something. "What is it that you need" the leader of the Dark-Elves demanded roughly as he gripped Loki's thin shoulders. He was growing impatient with the Aesir mage's smug and calm demeanor. Time was of the essence! Every second that ticked away was one second that brought them closer to Convergence. The pasty faced elf wanted to have everything the aligned for Convergence. Nothing would stand is in his way of avenging his fallen people and returning the universe to its natural state; that of darkness and chaos. And of course there was his own deal with Thanos, the Aether had be released during Convergence for it was the only way to free Thanos from his prison, Sanctuary.

"Hydra venom," Loki stated stoically as he rolled the leather gloved hand from his shoulder blade.

Malekith immediately began to try to assist the dark-haired traitor in finding the hydra venom. He knew it was a deadly poison lethal to most races, though not necessarily lethal to an Aesir unless it was a great quantity. "How did you learn of this enchantment?" Malekith asked suspiciously as he watched Loki's scrutinizing emerald eyes scan across the labels on the vials. His wife had been an Aether priestess, he had inadvertently learned many enchantments from her. But even she knew nothing of this. Had she known she was sure she would have shared it with him, then the Asgardians would have been easy to defeat in the beginning. Perhaps she wouldn't have shared such valuable information. As he recalled, his wife had become less and less zealous about the conquest of the dark-Elves. Nearing the end of the war she started to become one of those rebel-rousers who called for peace. her insubordination had made his decision to sacrifice her and many others easier.

Loki shrugged and slightly chuckled to himself, "While I was in my lowly cell blind and incapacitated, I had," the silver tongued magician froze mid sentence as he thought of what he was about to say. He saw Sigyn coming down to his prison hold, he hadn't been able to see her face, but he knew how fair she was. He pictures her curly, golden locks. amber eyes and tanned skin, along with her dainty, pink lips. He hadn't appreciated those lovely attributes when he'd been lucky enough to behold them. When she entered his solitary chamber her warmth and energy and gentle demeanor had brought light into his darkness. She'd been so faithful, so eager to please, so ready to provide him with any comfort that he desired even reading him a book. "I had a young maiden come and read to me," Loki stated once more returning to his train of thought after he shook himself. "She unknowingly read me a book that contained the spell," Loki confessed after he let out a pent up sigh. "At the time I was unable to do anything with the information, but I had her read it over and over until I memorized it."

Guilt togged at him. Innocent, young Sigyn had been trying to be a help to him, just trying to provide him with some form of entertainment and comforts. Poor simpleminded gorl, how was to know that the forein words that she fumbled through and struggled to read would actually be the crown princes undoing, would actual be bringing about Ragnarok. Sigyn would have been horrified had she known what she was reading. Knowledge that she had been a player in his wicked scheme would have killed her. He never wanted her to be involved in his evil doings. Nor did he wish to cause her pain. She'd suffered enough pain at his hands already. He'd been so swful to her for so long. She'd never deserved that. He never deserved her. He suppose he didn't deserve anyone.

"And are you sure it will work?' Malekith pressured all the more.

"When I am done with the brew Lord Malekith, shall I have you try a sample, then you can tell me if it rips the Aether from you and leaves you powerless to wield it for 48 hours?' Loki asked. "No," Loki answered back. "Then I suggest you wait for Thor to arrive, to see what happens!" the trickster snapped.

Malekith let out a feral growl out of impatience. He stalked about taping his white palm on the side of his black pants leg. "How do I know you are not stalling!" the dark-lord demanded in the crude tongue of his people as his piercing licorice eyes tried to burrow into Loki's shrewd emerald ones, hoping that he could find a lingering trace of fear there, but none shined forth from Loki's liquid green pools. The tricky Asgardian merely smirked. "How do I know that Thor won't march here with his entire army?" the bloodless elf continued.

"I suppose you don't," Loki countered sarcastically in the Dark Elf tongue.

Malekith hissed like a python at Loki's smug words. "Trickster!" he railed reaching out a hand and summoning the Aether's power that coursed through his veins. "You have come here to deceive me!" he started to yell. "You have killed Kursed..." he started to rant.

Loki turned around to face him with boredom clear in his dazzling green pupils. 'Calm yourself," he said dismissively, "I don't threaten," he informed Malekith and watched as the Dark-Elf lowered a glowing hand infused with the power of the blood red crystal. "You nearly devastated the small battalion that Thor brought to this barren land," he continued as he poked through and plucked and examined the vessels on the shelves. He carefully put them back into place after reading their labels and finding that they were not the one that he needed. "I doubt they will return to fight you again. The troop is weak. There are only about 25 or so soldiers who would be in any condition to fight," Loki explained. "I think your..." Loki paused as he allowed the right word to come to him, "hoard," he finally enunciated after sometime, "Can handle that many," he added with a wink. "Can't they?" the once prince asked with the smallest inclination of a smirk and acute arching of an onyx eyebrow.

"And what if he has returned to Asgard to gather more men?" Malekith continued to pester. The raven-coiffed wizard shook his head, tossed his black locks and scoffed at the Dark-Elf's foolish questionings. "What's so funny?" he inquired harshly. He turned around sharpply to face the manipulative man. "If you seek to deceive me!" Malektih ground out threateningly as he held up a cold white finger with a gnarled, long, onyx nail toward Loki's narrow nose. "If you think that you keep me from raining down the judgment of more than 1000 years of long awaited justice onto the heads of the Asgardians" he started to elaborate, "If you can think you can stop the Aether from being unleashed," he roared.

Loki held up his porcelain hand silencing the white faced general, "Then I would have already succeeded in doing so," Loki pointed out calmly and coolly not even bothering to look up from the canisters and bottles he was sifting though.

The smug attitude of the midnight coiffed enchanter made the Dark-Elf's black as oil blood boil. He immediately brandished his sword and in an instant of he rushed toward the Aesir skinned traitor. Loki gestures with his hand in a flippant and weak motion causing the sword to fling from the hand of the Aether wielding general. "Calm yourself, Lord Malekith," Loki said in between a yawn. "That will not be necessary," he expressed with boredom. "It was I who brought them here, although," he started to qualify, "I did give the Asgardians the incantation to get back through the secret portal without me, there is no way they would be able to bring more soldiers through the portal," the ex-prince reported confidently. He cast a side eyed glance toward Malekith,he noticed the leader of the dark-Elves starting to form another rebuttal. "Besides," Loki muttered with an exhale as he finally turned to face the general. He looked into his face, it was even more bloodless than before although it was now charred and dark, tainted with the Aether that was surging with in him, "You are in possession of the Aether now," he reminded the elfin war lord. "If you wield its power as formidably as you have claimed that should be enough to take care of any battalion of Einherjar and give them a taste for what awaits them on the Day of Convergence," Loki grinned wickedly.

A smile crossed Malekith's charred lip as well as he felt the Aether bubbling and churning inside him. Oh the power, so raw and addictive. He had waited for this day for more than a millenium now. The Aether could barely be contained inside his fleshly vessel any long, it longed to burst forth from out of him and fulfill its dark purpose, finally he would have the opportunity to return the cosmos to sheer darkness where the Dark-Elves could reign supreme. The general closed his eyes trying to quell the bubbling, oozing force inside of him. He had studied the inner workings of the infinity stone for centuries and so it was fairly easy for him to temper its rage.

Still, there was a caveat to the great day of reckoning that lied just around the corner for the Aesir and all the people of the Nine Realms. Ragnorok was contingent on Loki's smug assumption that Thor was actually going to come and try to save him. Malekith knew of the Asgardians' sentimentality, which was their greatest weakness, but even knowing of the Asgardian warriors famed loyalty to a comrade in battle it seemed far-fetched to believe that Thor would risk having the Aether unleashed and Ragnorok started all to save a so-called brother. Malekith had brothers, but on that fateful day when the forces of Asgard had nearly bested him he was willing to do anything to have a second chance at defeating the Aesir. To keep his entire race from dying that he'd seen them destroyed. If Prince Thor had any wisdom he'd do the same. "And you are sure that prince Prince Thor will come for you?" Malekith continued to inquire. He crossed his arms over his breastplate and leaned against the desk. "It seems impractical to think that he would risk the fate of the Nine Realms to rescue the likes of you," Malekith expressed critically as he looked the thin darkly cloaked Asgardian. Up and down.

upon to make the impractical decisions," he started to laugh harder as his bright green eyes landed on a most pleasing sight, the final ingredient. Delicately, his long, nimble fingers reached out to pluck a small glass vase from the dusty, gnarled and corroded looking onyx shelves. A sickeningly straight white toothed grin carved its way across his angular features as he started to examine the contents of the small clear glass bottle. The liquid was thin as water, but an amber coloring. "He is a fool!" the alabaster skinned ex-son of Odin spat as he turned around and showed his gleaming grin to Malekith. With a young boys impish delight he waved the tiny vase full of a hydra's venom at the Aether infested elf. Malekith's eyes grew wide as he recognized the poisonous liquid swishing and sloshing around inside the tiny vial. Loki toyed and fiddled with the poison's shiny little bottle. His creamy fingers rubbing and caressing the curved edges of the cone shaped glass. "And he'll do what fools do," he nodded assuredly in the Dark-Elf's direction "He'll rush in as fools head strong and banner flying never thinking of the traps and pitfalls that lie before him," Loki explained his jade eye winking at the black-faced elf. "He'll come looking for me," Loki stated firmly with a nod. He rubbed his palms together greedily as he walked the hydra's venom over to the mixture that he'd left on the burner. "Hell come because he'll feel like its his duty," Loki qualified. "He'll come because he always has," Loki pointed out once more.

Malekith's eyes glowed with anticipation. He could feel the Aether swirling inside him. For too long the ancient dark gem had been oppressed, now it would be released and he would be able to take revenge on the line of Bor. He would destroy the line of Bor because Bor had forced him to make the choice to destroy his own line. Malekith calmed himself and nodded satisfied with answer that flowed sweetly and effortless off of the silver tongue. "How long until you are finished with the potion?" he asked.

"Not long now," Loki replied

"I'll leave you to it then," the leader of the Dark-Elves stated as he turned on his heels and marched out of the laboratory chamber. He stepped toward the threshold of the door and the door automatically whooshed open and released the vapors as he stepped outside of the room in a cloud rubbing his palms together.

Loki lit a burner and allowed the rest of the tonic to heat over the open flame. The chemicals would need to be piping hot when the venom was added in order for the potion to achieve full potency and it would have to be kept warm until Thor ingested it. While the tonic started to simmer in its boiling pot. Loki popped the cork open on the bottle of hydra venom. As soon as the cork was dislodged from the vial, the putrid scent of the venom wafted into Loki's nostrils. The stench was enough to make the once prince's emerald eyes water, set his teeth on edge and send the hairs in nose to curling. It was noxious. The rotten fragrance permeated the small laboratory space and caused Loki's stomach to roil enough so that he felt like he would retch. He wondered if the unfortunate souls who met their end due to the deadly poison had truly died because of the effects of had the simply keeled over unable to bear the odor. Despite the ghastly smell Loki leaned his pointed nose over the bottle and breathed in the dreadful fumes as if he were breathing in the aromatic fragrance of a bouquet of wild flowers. The awful fragrance smelt like revenge and revenge was such a sweet dish. "Ahhh how delicious," the mage exhaled. As the nasty scent tickled his nostrils and filled his senses the enchanter couldn't help but jerk his head back and let out a cackle. In his hands he held the vial that could bring his brother to his knees. Oh how rich! How titillatingly delightful! Finally, after years of trailing behind, scuttling in Thor's shadow the Mighty Thor...the Great Thunderer...the Future King of Asgard...the Golden Prince would be brought low! He would bow before him and beg for his mercy. He'd b the strong one and Thor would be weak cowering and helpless before him. The victory he'd dreamed of for so long was nearly made manifest...it was palpable...tangible. Loki grew so giddy he snorted.

But while wild, manic laughter filled his hollowed chest, images and old memories inundated his mind as his own words echoed in his head. "He always has."

If he would have allowed himself he could have recalled 50 more similar scenarios. Times when they'd fought by one another sides. They were willing to fight to their last breaths for each other. After all they had been brothers...then. Loki quickly reminded himself...they had been brothers...then...but no longer. They'd been raised to be there for one another. Of course his rearing he now knew had been a sham. He'd been trained to be faithful to Thor, to Odin to Asgard so on the day that Odin sought to use him to his own ends he'd remember his training and be a willing pawn in Odin's chess game to keep the Jotuns at bay.

Loki stopped his mind from wandering and drifting back to other times when he could recall Thor's loyalty and love. It mattered little now. Now Thor's bleeding heart was simply a means to an end. All Thor's promises had been made into naught and rubbish and lies when he had fallen into the void. With that notion firmly planted in his head the raven-coiffed enchanter allowed his cackling to grow wilder and more furious.

"Thor was always there when you needed him," a trembling weak sounding voice managed to speak up in a timid whisper.

The frail sounded mew jolted the trickster and broke him from his cackling. He whirled around startled by the barely there sound. His piercing jade green eyes grew large as he half way expected to see some weakened form of himself crawling on the floor pulling at his coattails. He was relieveed to find that no such image had arisen from his mind to haunt him. He heard it again, the pitiful mew, "Thor was always there for you,"The small, nagging whisper gnawed away at Loki's heart as his hand loomed over the bottle full of hydra's venom. All he had to do was wait for the other components of the tonic to heat up to the fusion level. He was so ready to pour the hydra venom into the bottle and finish the potion, but his hand froze at the sound of his own hearts desperate yet feeble attempt to plead with him. "H-h-how...how can y-you do this?' his inner voice questioned. "How can you take advantage of the fact that you know he will come for you?" his conscience scolded him.

"Shut up!" Loki argued back mentally, although outwardly he continued his wicked laughter. "Thor has not always been there!" he commented back quickly audibly before he could let his conscience interject another weak thought into his brain.

"Yes...yes...he has," the voice panted. It was so weak, so tired of arguing. Loki had worked so hard to repress those old emotions that now his conscience could barely manage to filter through all the anger and malice and revenge that had blackened his heart.

"No he hasn't!" Loki shouted out loud. His angered voiced bounced off the blackened walls. He was left fumiing and breathing raggedly. Loki tried to compose himself, he leaned over on to the black table. He closed his eyes and tried to block the voice from his brain. "He hasn't always been there. He hasn't always come," he muttered miserably as his long midnight locks fell in his face. "He didn't come when I was in the Void," Loki expressed as s shiver ran up his spine and beads of perspiration started to form on the nape of his neck and forehead.

When he'd first arrived in the Void he was greeted by the Chitauri, he'd never seen beings so hideous, but hideous as they were they they didn't to him in his recovery under the direction of the Other. When he was well enough the Other took quite an interests in his gifts and his abilities and asked him for his help in aiding in his masters biding. But when He gave the Other and consequently Thanos an ultimatum the hospitality ended and the torment began.

Thanos took umbrage with being questioned. The mad titan didn't like his word to challenged nor did he like for his power to be put to the test. He hadn't met Thanos, but Thanos decided on a rude introduction to show him who he was dealing with. That's when the pain began. Such pain...such excruciating pain...the likes of which he didn't think he could survive, but he did survive and that was the worse of it.

The Chitauri spent hours days him mercilessly with an electro-whip. The whip sliced through his porcelain flesh like a hot knife through butter. And after so many lashes from the cruel torture device his whole body was a convulsing, shivering lump of flesh. His back resemble a pulverized piece of ground beef. He thought that even animal slaughtered for a dinner feast had been shown more compassion that he had. They tied his trembling, weak, helpless form tight against the rough, prickly bark of a gnarled tree. The thorns and thistles on the tree dug into his wounds causing him to scream out in pain. The sticks and thistles and thorns that winded their way down the trunk of the terrible tree were laced with poison that caused his wounds to fester and pus. It also caused him to have terrible delusions and hallucinations of Laufey and his trying to roast him on a spit for the crimes he'd committed against Jotunheim.

They kept him bound and tethered hand and foot to the tree day and night. His limbs stretched over his head so that his muscles and bones ached and atrophied from little use until they were rubber.

To add to his misery, he was left out to dry in the hot sun. The sun beat down upon him hot and heavy, there was no shade from the barren tree, it was black and mangled and dead. He had never done well in the heat, he preferred cooler temperatures and the sheer agonizing heat made him sweat profusely. He could feel himself becoming my and more dehydrated. His constitution was not made to withstand such brutal conditions. After days and days of no water or shade it was as if his Aesir skin melted from his bones leaving him with the garish blue skin of his true heritage to. It was his body's last attempt to cool itself and find relief. But the physical relief only furthered his mental and emotional distress. He hated his Jotun form. It was a brutal reminder of his life's lie. He'd always been taught that the Jotun were a barbaric and cruel society, they'd spread death and pain throughout the Nine-Realms and here he was one of them. To make matters worse he was a rejected one of them. He had always felt like an outsider in Asgard and he was unwanted in Jotunheim. For a moment he thought he'd rather die than live in this disgusting blue form.

The physical relief that his icy skin provided him with was short-lived. No sooner had he found relief did the snake come. The snake. That terrible serpent that lodged itself in the hollow of the tree. It slithered down from the branches, hissing horridly in his ear. Its fangs were as long as Loki's fingers and they dripped with a putrid yellow venom. The venom poured down the tree and onto Lokis head then down his face and body. It seared his icy cobalt skin, causing even that hard flesh to start to blister and from the blisters arose terrible icicle spikes. The pushed up through his flesh and they were painful formations. Loki cried and screamed his throat raw, but his tortured wailing fell upon death ears. Loki did the best he could to summon his powers to try and heal the hurts, but he couldn't produce incantation strong enough.

The serpent, his loathsome companion would coil itself around him. Its own shedding skin the only antidote to its terrible venom. It was both Loki's poison and elixir. The twisted python toyed with him in a sick game, healing him and licking him with its wicked forked tongue and then the minute it felt Loki relax and give into the momentary comfort it would plunge its razor sharp teeth in his once more,biting his neck, wrist, feet, and stomach. Its poison stared to course through his veins and his body felt as though it hand been set on fire from the inside.

"THOR! BROTHER!" he cried out continuously, "Brother please!" he whimpered as black Jotun tears spilled forth from his glaring red eyes. The tears burned like boiling lava as they slid down his cheeks. "Helpmehelpmehelpmehelpme!" he howled for days on end. "HELP ME, THOR PLEASE!" Loki hollered frantically as he felt the hot venom of the mighty python sear over his skin. "Ican't... 't...n-n-no-more," he murmured deliriously as he vomited all over himself. He spit up bile and blood. Endless days past and there was no sign of Thor. "Whydunyoucom? Whydunyoucom?"Loki pleaded.

After weeks and weeks of crying out from the unspeakable torture and just when he thought he was going to die, from malnourishment, pain and dehydration, Loki felt strong, thick, hot and calloused hands grip his chin with some sort of tenderness. "Tisk-Tsik-Tisk," a pitying tongue clicked as scrutinizing eyes examined Loki's skeletal frame, cold and blue, marred with burns and lacerations, naked and shivering and covered in his own bodily fluids.

The chain man coughed a miserable hoarse cough as his head slumped lifelessly into the large palms rough palms. Loki let out a faint moan as he pressed his face against the hands. He felt so weak that he could scarcely manage to bat an eyelash. His cracked and bleeding blue lips quivered as they tried to formulate the simple one syllable word. "T-T-Tttor?' he rasped feebly. Those same trembling lips pursed and contorted into a sliver of a smile as he leaned deeper into the palm searching for comfort there. He'd been in pain for so long now. "Oh brudder," he muttered, "Youcameyoucameyoucame," he stumbled over the words feverishly. 'H-h-he s-s-saidddd you wouldn'tcome," the once king of Asgard coughed, spittle and blood flying from his mouth. 'Ssssaiddyouwoulden," The Asgardian stammered, "B-b-butIknew," he slurred, feeling fatigue engulfing him. Even in his anguished state the once prince of Asgard wouldn't allow himself to succumb to sleep; not without looking upon his savior's face. With great effort Loki managed to lift up his bruised, blue eyelids. His Jotun red eyes brimming with hopeful was so ready to behold his older brother, looking golden and glorious, strong and brave with his long blonde mane flowing about him like a halo and his magnificent hammer displayed ready to vanquish those who had tormented him. He envisioned the tender expression that would be etched on Thor's kind face. He hoped that the hideous form that he was cursed with would not repulse his brother. As his ruby red pupils glanced up they did not see concerned, worried sapphire eyes staring back at him. Instead he was beheld a large face purple as a grape with a menacing and malicious smile. Loki started tremble with fear. 'T-thanos!" Loki gasped in horror.

The gruesome grin soon turned into an awful scowl,"In the flesh," the purple skinned fiend revealed.

"You still think that he'll come for you?" the mad titan deduced. It was obvious by his tone that he was not pleased. His hard purple thumb and forefinger squeezed Loki's cheeks together harshly. Loki made some weak attempt to say something in response. "Ah-ah-ah" Thanos chided gently. "Don't bother to lie," he stilled Loki's trembling lips his heavy rock like hand there. "Your sniveling certainly betrays you," he spat. "How precious!" he mocked patting Loki roughly on the cheek. Once again Thanos clicked his tongue with a mocked air of pity. "I like you Loki of Asgard," the titan stated as his rough, thick finger traced the white scars formed from the snake venom across Loki's frosted face. The chained man shivered and quivered at the ruler of this dark realms closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, "You are indeed as powerful as the other promised you'd be. A lesser man would have died by now," Thanos explained as his stroked Loki's head like a dogs'. "I have plans for you he explained," he voice was nearly calming rubbed his granite hard sausage fingers through the Jotuns scraggly, venom soaked, midnight mane. All at once the massage of the burnt and scarred scalp turned to a cruel grip. Thanos' purple hands grabbed a fist full of hair and yanked Loki's head back eliciting a painful scream. "Surely, such a powerful enchanter like yourself would suit my purpose," he stated more to himself than to Loki as he drummed fat fingers into Loki's head. "But Sentiment," he spat. "is a thing... I... loathe," the mad titan hissed as he placed his violet lips close to Loki's cobalt ear. His words caused Loki to cringe, he bit his lip to cook himself from sobbing like a child in front of the torturous creature, but Thanos was like an animal, he could sense fear. He feasted off of fear and he was about to have a smorgasbord off of Loki. "But don't worry," Thanos revealed his nauseating yellow toothed grin, "I intend to wean you of it," he warned and chuckled sinisterly as he took the skeleton key and unlocked the fetters that bound Loki to the hideous tree.

Thin arms fell limp as ragdoll limbs from the branch of the tree. Thanos gripped Loki's bloodied wrist, lifted him from the ground where he lay crumpled and helpless, picked him up and tossed him into the pudgy, blue velvet and silk cloaked arms of the being that was referred to simply as The Other. Broken in body and nearly in spirit the silver-tongued ex-prince of Asgard could scarcely cause his lips to formulate a word of protest. "Take him to the Machine!" the violet colored titan ordered. "I will return in 3 days time to see if he is ready to begin phase one of my plan," theThanos announced.

"As you wish my lord," The Other uttered in a gargly voice as he submissively bowed to his master's dictates.

Bloodshot eyes widened in horror his listless, blue body started to convulse and seizure at the mention of the torture device. He's seen it used against the Chituari. "Please," Loki whimpered. "No! No! No!" Loki shook his head weakly fighting against being carted away. "Brother! Help me, PLEASE!" He squealed in sheer panic as he was carried off to another round of torture.

Loki could hear himself wheezing and gasping for air as he started to see himself strapped to the machine. His back against a cold slab of metal, his wrist and ankles bound in leather straps. The rough looking helmet pressed tight against his forehead. He could feel the electric current sizzling through his head, causing his synapses to misfire and for him to lose control of his own powers from the excruciating pain. The torment caused him to scream his poor throat raw, his throat bled. The agony was the likes of which he didn't think he could stand. The anguish of bolts and bolts of dark-lightening being pumped into his thin body nearly drove Loki out of his mind. The incessant torture for nights and days on end caused Loki to scarcely remember his own name, but all the while he kept a small glimmer of hope that Thor would come for him, but the days rolled by and the torment didn't cease, in one last desperate plea to salvage himself he begged for mercy, he prayed for a fate as sweet as death.

It was only at that point that the six fingered cretin, with slimy, blue skin pulled the lever to turn off the torture device. Thanos' footsteps lumbered across the floor made of obsidian stone and over to where Loki still lied thrashing about violently on the sweat slick slab on metal. "Do you still think he will come and rescue you?" Thanos gravelly voice asked cruelly in his ear. At that point Loki could only reply with a pitiful whimper. Tears cascaded down his cheeks like water rushing over the falls. "Say it so that I can hear you," the mad titan coaxed.

"N-n-n-n-n-nooooo," the silver-tongued prince of Asgard stuttered terribly as he looked up into cold, pitiless gold eyes that matched the vicious yellow toothed grin displayed under rough purple lips.

"Do you think they care about you?" Thanos continued.

"N-n-n-no," Loki coughed.

The sickening smile continued to tug on Thanos' face. "I'm the only one here for you now, aren't eye Loki?' Thanos inquired.

'Y-y-y-y-eee" Loki tried to form the word.

"Ask me to spare you," Thanos pressed a cruel whisper to Loki's ear.

'Ppppl-l-ease," Loki sobbed.

"Good boy," the ancient dictator rumbled with a sincere pleasure as he patted Loki roughly on the cheeks. Loki bobbed his head and swallowed just as he lost consciousness.

Loki finally blinked his petrified, emerald eyes breaking himself from the trance of reliving his nightmarish past. He took a sharp inhale gasping for breath and pulling himself back to reality. He panted, still trying to catch his breath as his jade eyes darted around the laboratory searching for any signs of Thanos. Loki was able to breath easier once his shrewd emerald orbs observed that he was alone in the chamber. He looked down at his hands they seemed to have turn a shade paler; they were virtually the same color as the bloodless skin of the Dark-Elves. The enchanter took note that not only were his hands white as a ghost, but they were also quivering fiercely. He gingerly started to set the vial of Hydra's venom down on the table. The tiny, glass vial clanked against the stone table as he slowly lowered it. The once prince of Asgard reached up with his left hand and wrapped it around his right wrist as he tried to stop his hand from trembling. He would need to hold the small bottle steady in order to mix the brew properly. Loki's thin nostrils flared and he tried to suck in deep breaths to keep himself from hyperventilating.

"It's alright, it's over now," a gentle voice attempted to assuage his old fears.

The raven-haired criminal nodded trying to dismiss the feelings of fear that had welled up inside of him. He ignored the weak feelings of slink their way from out of the crevices they'd been condemned to for so long now. Loki went to fetch a thermometer from one of the cabinets. He needed to measure the heat of his concoction to his if it was ready for him to add the Hydra venom to it.

"He abandoned me!" he snarled as he went to check on the boiling pot. He continued to use his left hand to hold his right hand still as he walked toward the bubbling cauldron.

"You can't think that way," the hushed tone offered. "That's not true!" his heart protested.

Loki tossed his head back and let out a bitter chortle. "Ha!" the mage blasted. "He didn't come did he?!" Loki hollered indignantly at no one present to the visible eye. His frail morals remained silent for a little while. His conscience had so little strength left. It had so little strength left to contend with darkness and bitterness that had consumed Loki. That wickedness had nearly killed him and if Loki didn't stop soon his conscience wouldn't survive his evil deeds. Loki could feel the voice cower and retreat into the inner recesses of its mind and heart ready to reside in the pitiful crevices that Loki had condemned it to. "Did he?" the raven-locked enchanted demanded heartless of his old self.

"No," his heart sighed. The voice spoke so softly that Loki didn't even know if he really heard its confession or only imagined the admission. Nonetheless he smirked at finally having that sniveling part of himself say that the sentiments that it longed to cling to had all been proven null in the void. Thor was no brother to him at all and he never had been. He proved that when he lied in torment screaming out his name and he did not come.

"But you know he couldn't find you," the frail tone added just as Loki opened the glass cabinet drawers.

"Perhaps he never even looked," Loki sneered. "Perhaps he wanted me to suffer," Loki rambled his thoughts as he pulled a thermometer from the cabinet.

"He couldn't find you," the voice offered a flimsy protest. "Y-y-you know that the Void is a hidden place...it was only because a wormhole had been formed that you fell there. Without the power of the Tesseract even you would not have been about to escape the Void," inner self tried to point out. The porcelain skin trickster continued to try to explicated.

"It doesn't matter now!' the mischief-maker snapped and shook his head as he marched the measuring instrument over to the black pot simmering over the open flame. He dipped the stick inside the goo and waited "It doesn't matter now," he repeated once more this time in a hushed and stoic tone. "He will suffer as I have suffered," Loki confessed.

"You will leave your brother powerless," the voice pointed out.

"He's not my brother," Loki reminded himself silently. "He never was," he added simply out of spite. If he kept telling himself that perhaps he could finally squash that relentless part of himself that still clung to stupid sentiments. Loki's lifted the thermometer out of boiling brew. It was nearly hot enough. In just a few more minutes he would be able to finally add the most potent of ingredients. A wicked grin played across his thin features as he dipped the Thermometer back inside the boiling pot and started to swirl it around; keeping the mixture from getting too thick.

"Stop Loki!" the voice sniveled in earnest. "Please," he heard it whimper in the back of his head. He could practically hear the old self, the weak, sensitive, vulnerable young man he had once been groveling, begging for him to cease and desist. "This isn't right..." the tone protested faintly. "If you truly think that Thor isn't your brother then why do you think he'll come?" the small voice inquired. In the familiar type of rhetoric that the silver tongue was used to wielding.

Loki merely smirked as he carried over the vial that contained the nasty venom back toward the bubbling ooze. The ooze was a purplish color. A pretty poison. "Because life is ironic," Loki chuckled as he lifted the vial of brown liquid toward the red light that glowed above his head. He started laughing wildly, giddily, "When I was screaming, crying out for Thor to save me he was no where to be found and now...now...now," he muttered over and over again through manic guffaws. He shook his head and slapped his knee still grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Now...irony of ironies when I don't need him, now he'll make gallant effort to come rushing in and save me and he'll only come rushing to his demise," Loki admitted as he flicked his raven locks out of his face. Triumphantly, the once king of Asgard marched toward the black pot. This time when he took the thermometer out of the potion he fount that the poison had risen to the perfect temperature. He leaned his head over the cauldron, steam escaped from the bubbles. The boiling Calvin temperatures caused beads of sweat to form on Loki's porcelain skinned face. The mage wiped his brow before he inhaled the toxic fumes being released from the concoction. Then pungent aroma nearly singed the hairs in his narrow nostrils. The repugnant odor filled his lungs and made him gag and cough, yet the cruel smile never faltered from his angular face as he started to pour the vial of venom into the boiling pot.

"You'll bring about Ragnorok!" his inner self called out. The cry caused Loki to pause long enough to keep the first drop of hydra's venom from dripping into the cauldron and mixing with the rest of ingredients. "You'll bring death and destruction on everyone!"

"Someone has to," Loki attempted to shrug off all conviction. The amber venom dripped down closer and closer toward the edge of the bottle's mouth in a few seconds it would pour into the larger bottle and the tonic would be complete.

"You don't want this...you don't want this," his conscience rasped, but all the while the voice was steadily getting weaker and Loki was convinced that if he just kept ignoring it it would fade away into nothingness.

"Oh but I really do," Loki told himself as he cackled deeper and harder thinking that his crazed laughter could drown out the still small murmur that kept ringing in his ear.

"You will destroy everything you have ever loved...your home...your family...please!"

"I have no home," Loki swore to himself as he turned sharply

"That's not true," his inner self refuted weakly, "Asgard is your home," is heart tried to remind him.

"Asgard was my display case!" Loki hissed inwardly as his hand clenched around the bottle-neck of the vial. "A place fore Odin to show off his shiny relic," he ground out. "But I'm not his relic," the once prince convinced himself, "I'm not his relic to be locked away," Loki warned as he paced across the black floor. "I'm not his spoiled child's toy or playmate!" the raven-haired man spat angrily. "And I am most certainly not his son," Loki's dazzling, emerald eyes grew a shade darker with the thought.

"Then what are you?" Loki's conscience beckoned to him. It seemed as though the voice was drifting further and further away. It was no longer the pesky nag in the back of his mind or the confrontational presence that he could not escape. Now it was a distant wind blowing out at sea while he stood on the shore. "Who are you, Loki?" the inquiry as faint but it still tickled Loki's ears. It caused the deceitful enchanter to hand his head as he studied the yellow venom aged to perfection...the hydra's venom only grew stronger as the creature aged. It was just ripe for the pouring, ripe for the mixing. With flick of the risk the drop would fall the potion would be complete. All he would have to do is wait for Thor to come unwittingly and heroically to rescue him and he'd offer his false brother his hero's reward. Everything was lining up perfectly. Asgard would be his!

"Loki, please this is madness," a shaky voice pleaded with him from the inside.

"Madness and brilliance there is a thin line between them," Loki retorted verbally to himself. "Yes," the voice from within sighed "and you are about to cross it," his conscience cautioned.

"Sometimes the lines have to be crossed to achieve what you want," Loki explained away his convictions quickly.

"Do you hear yourself?" the voice sounded shocked, but it was far from scolding, it hadn't the strength to scold Loki. "You will destroy everything!" it rasped as if it wanted to scream, but hadn't the voice. "This won't just hurt Odin and Thor all of Asgard...all of the realms...everyone will be plunged into an era of darkness and despair and misery," the his old familiar voice tried to reason with him.

"So be it then," the emerald eyed enchanter spat.

"I thought that Dagmar's death would be enough for you...I...I...thought that maybe finally then you'd see. Dagmar died..." The voice in the back of his head began to lecture him and all the while Loki closed his eyes, he squeezed them shut trying to concentrate and drown out the words.

"DON'T SAY HER NAME!" Loki roared as he finally opened his jade pupils. His eyes were glistening brightly with tears that he fought hard to withhold, but slowly one leaked from the corner of his eye and it was followed by several other salt water drops that continued to roll down his flushed cheeks. The master mage is left breathing harshly, his thin white chest rising and falling into with his racing heart underneath green garments as his shoulders heaved furiously.

"I will say her name," the voice reported in a timid stance against Loki's fury and ire. "I have every right to say it," it informed the vehement criminal. "It is you who should not be allowed to say," he challenged.

"Be quiet," Loki muttered closing his eyes once more.

"It is you who killed her."

"No," Loki gasps in horror.

"Your malice and anger and need for vengeance caused her death," the tone expressed sorrowfully.

"NO! BE QUIET!" Loki screamed as he set the vial to the side so that he could cover his ears. But the voice was inescapable. It was audible, ringing in his ears and mental resounding in the recesses of his mind.

"But you still haven't learned! You still wish to go through with all this...this...madness!" the voice accused. "She would be disgusted with you! She would hate what you have become! She wouldn't be able to stand the sight of you! Animal consumed by madness!"

"Madness!" Loki panted "Madness?" he whispered as his emerald eyes darted nervously around the darkened chamber. He searched for the physical manifestation of the voice, but he found it not. "The only madness I have been driven to is by you!" the ex-prince hurled. "You are the one who has me standing around debating with myself like a mad man!" he railed at the air. His green eyes wide and a blaze. Defiantly, his bony, porcelain fingers scooped up the small vessel and allowed it to hover over the boiling, bubbling brew.

The amber liquid crept toward the mouth of the small bottle, Loki was tempted to flick his wrist and allow the venom to rush quickly toward the mouth of the bottle and spill out in a quick torrent. It would flow so quickly that he wouldn't be able to stop it. At least he would tell himself that. Though he knew that if he wanted to and concentrated hard enough he could have froze the liquid and caused it to suck back up into the vial. It was much like how he told himself that this situation had spiraled out of control and he was powerless to fight against the current. He just had to let it occur, but somehow he wasn't quite convinced that was the case.

"Loki, stop...think about this...it won't just hurt your family,"his old self cautioned him. "Please...please don't do this," a voice a loud as baby's breath begged. 'you don't want to do this!" an inner tone reminded him. "I...I...I don't want to do this," there was a faint inward confession. "I don't want to be a monster," It confessed like a trembling child.

Jade pupils snapped open quick as a flash, "What you want does not matter!" he plotting pale skinned Asgardian snarled! This is what I want!" he declared through clenched teeth.

"You still haven't answered my question," the old self countered. "who are you?' it inquired of him again.

The tall, lanky Asgardian mage broke into a wicked grin, "I am the son of Odin's mortal enemy," Loki began, "I am the prince of Asgard's foe. And I am a force to be reckoned with," he swore menacingly.

"And what am I?' the voice squeaked out.

"You are gone," Loki stated as he allowed the venom to drip into the cauldron.


Thor had been flying since he'd left his troops in the cave. That had been hours ago, in the dead of night. Now it was slightly after daybreak. He'd been flying swiftly and searching frantically, sporadically dispersing streaks of lightning across the severe black sky of the Dark World to help illuminate the way as he searched for his brother. He frantically called out Loki's name over the cacophonous winds that seemed to continuously rage across the barren land. He was desperate to locate his brother, Loki, but so far his venture into the Svartalfheim wilderness had proved fruitless, there didn't seem to be any sign of Loki.

The Crown Prince of Asgard had never been one to give into the feeling of panic, but slowly he could feel that unfamiliar emotion starting to rise in his chest. "LOKI! LOKI!" the thunderer's loud voice boomed over the barren black hills of the Dark World's perilous dunes as he looked high and low for the pale-skinned Asgardian. Loki shouldn't have been hard to spot out in the wastelands of Svartalfhiem. The realm had little to behold other than its high peaked ash mountains and jagged cliffs made dark quartz. There were no trees or vegetation of note. So Loki's bright green cape should have been easy to detect amidst the back drop of gray black and stark white. There weren't many animals that could survive in the Dark-World's harsh environment. Most were large insect like creatures, but Thor hadn't seen any of those beasts. So Loki should have been easy to find, he would have been the only living thing in the desert. "LOKI! LOOOOOKIII!" Prince Thor continued to bellow as he flew over head in a cloudless sky. He got no response back. A scowl formed on the handsome blonde's face. He side as granules of sand sprayed and hit him in the face as he slowed his flying. While his right arm stayed stuck out proud and strong his left hand was tucked over his brow shielding his gorgeous, sapphire eyes from the unpleasant rays of the blaring white sun of the Dark-World. "Oh brother, where are you?" Thor muttered worriedly as his eyes continued to scan the ground below.

He'd chosen to fly to get a bird's eye view to, but thus far the prince had been unsuccessful. There was nothing to be detected as far as his bright blue eyes could see. He could not even a foot print to let him know he was traveling in the right direction, but he supposed with the ever shifting sands that looking for a foot print was trying to follow a needle in a haystack. Before the son of Odin had ventured from the cave he'd taken time to holomap that Loki had wisely advised they'd bring. And he'd taken the hand drawn map with him as well, although he doubted that it was as accurate as the digital chart. But even with a map, it was hard to determine one area of land from the next. the Dark-World was a formless land with few geographical features. Most of the world was dry, ashen desert country, there was a small section of land that was forest area. Though all the tree barren and fruitless filled with nothing but thistles and thorns. Svartalfheim offered few water supplies, there were a few rivers that ran through the desert and one sea to the north, but that according to the map Thor was at least a fortnight's travel from that location. He was simply searching for the stronghold city of Ichabod. It should have been easy to spot, a great walled town shooting up from the dust, but because the land was all so similar Thor wasn't even sure if he was traveling in the right direction.

Loki had said that Ichabod was only half a day's journey from where the battle had taken place, but still the elder prince of Asgard had no idea if he was going the right way. The black dunes seemed endless. What if he was going the wrong way? What if Loki had gone the wrong way? It was hard to imagine that, Loki had an excellent sense of direction and he normally had his lodestone handy. Except Loki didn't have had his lodestone with him when he'd left because he'd angrily given it to Sif to prove the intentions in his heart. Thor grew even more worried. Without his trusty liedastern it was not hard to imagine Loki getting lost among the sea of ash. What if he had gotten lost or turned around in one the blinding sandstorms? Thor's eyes darted back and for the over the molten sands. There was no water or shade for miles and miles. Loki had always been sensitive to heat. Always fatiguing quicker than most Asgardian children on hot summer days it was only now that Thor understood why that was. He kicked himself mentally for all the times he had teased his younger sibling for how quickly he tired or sought shade or needed to ask nursemaid for cool glasses of ice water. What if Loki had grown dehydrated? What if he'd passed out in this forsaken desert? Thor's bright blue eyes roved around the black sand desert in search of his brother The eldest son of Odin did his best to remain calm as the thoughts head. No. Loki was resourceful. He knew his brother had planned a head and brought a wineskin and a canteen full of water. No doubt Loki could have conjured up some shade for himself if the pale sun had started to beat down to heavily upon his alabaster skin. Loki could have made a force-field to protect himself from a sandstorm, Thor reminded himself. Besides Loki was strong. He was stronger than he had been as a child. Once again Thor chided himself, Loki had been strong as a child although he'd never given him credit for it. Loki had been strong enough to try to keep up with him and their friends even to the point of exhaustion, because he didn't want to be left out or seem incapable of doing what his big brother did.

Despite his attempts to convince himself that Loki was well, panic continued to swell inside the blonde-haired warrior once more. It was already after sunrise meaning that he had less than a day to find his brother and return to the cave. He had to return to the cave to be with troops. He'd promise, Sif and the Warriors Three, his men and Jane that he would return to them before nightfall. He couldn't break his word to them. His troops were counting on him, all of Asgard was dependent on him and unbeknownst the rest of realms they were dependent upon him too. He had to return in the time he promised. He couldn't fail them.

But he would not fail his brother either, he was determined to return to the troops with Loki in tow .Whether he was bruised or bloodied or beaten, Thor was going to bring him back to Asgard with them. He'd not leave his brother to suffer at the hands of an enemy. Not again.

Thor zoomed across the sky with the speed of lightening. While he zipped across the boundless gray sky he happened to see something fluttering in the wind. It scarcely caught his eye, was just a flicker of something green, but it caused the thunderer to land. "Loki!" Thor called excitedly a few feet away from green cape that he found fluttering in the billowing breeze. He started to sprint toward the emerald colored cape. His pulse started to quicken. He halfway expected to find Loki lying face down in the dirt. But then he could also imagine Loki sitting calmly, perfectly fine, with a stoic expression on his face making a scolding remark, like "Thor, you knitwit, I told you to stay in the cave with the troops," but at this moment he would have been grateful to have Loki fuss at him.

The mallet wielder's huge, tanned hands immediately fumbled to clasp the silky threads of the cape, "Loki, are you alright," he asked breathlessly as he snatched the cape effortlessly from the black sand. Thor's sky blue eyes went wide as he found himself clutching a shawl with no owner. "No," the prince gasped. "Loki?" he asked in a small voice looking around the empty space. "BROTHER!" he roared to no one. He only heard his own voice call back to him. The golden prince of Asgard and began digging furiously through the sand, thinking that he would be able to dig up Loki. What if Loki had fainted and had been buried alive in one of the all too frequent sandstorms that ravaged this land.

Thor plunged his large hands into the onyx dust, digging and groping and clawing and scraping frantically to find Loki. He thought that perhaps Loki collapsed and was buried by the sands. He dug a ditch, but he didn't find his brother's pale form cloaked in green, covered with gray sand. Thor sighed as he looked around bewildered before he pushed himself off the ground. The land was empty and there was no evidence that Loki had collapsed, there was no water canteen, or map also lying about in the black sand. There was nothing but Loki's hooded emerald, green cape and the cape could have blown from anywhere. It could have been easily blown off of Loki's shoulders by the severe winds or Loki could have torn the cloak off himself if he felt that it was cumbersome. Loki could be miles from this spot by now. It had been over a day. Surely, Loki wouldn't have allowed himself to stay exposed to the elements for this long. Even though Loki had packed provisions for himself, Thor knew he hadn't taken enough to last him more than a days journey. Their rations hadn't been much to spare. No, Thor was convinced, "Loki must have forged ahead to Ichabod," Thor told himself as he gathered up the mage's emerald cloak in his arms. He unfolded the tattered map from the folded of his cloak. He studied it. He wasn't sure where he was, but Loki had marked the quadrant where they had taken shelter. Ichabod was just East of there. Thor licked his calloused finger and held it to the wind, it seemed to be blowing westward, which meant he was headed to the east.

Prince Thor decided to continue the journey on foot. If Loki was somewhere wounded in this wasteland it would be easier to see him if he was traveling by foot. Thor trudged steadily over the rugged ashen foothills, with labored, plodding steps as he was pushed back and buffeted by the swirling sands. He used Loki's cape as a shield against the storm. Sometimes the normally, surefooted warrior prince of Asgard would stumble across the shifting sands as he winds swirled about him, rustling his read tunics and tossing his long blonde locks in his blue eyes.

As he walked on his mind reeled with dreadful thoughts so much so that he hardly noticed himself trip through the sand. What if Loki had indeed reached Ichabod, but was being held hostage by the Dark-Elves? What if when he reached Ichabod he found Loki's lifeless body discarded mercilessly on the floor of Malekith's dark starship? The thought made Thor's blood run cold. Thor faltered ever so slightly in his steps. He heard the thunder crackle above him as we did so. He mustn't let his emotions get the better of him, he warned himself No. The blue-eyed prince shut his eyes blocking such a terrible image from his mind. As he refocused the storm clouds that had started to roll in over an already bleak gray sky, started to disperse. He couldn't bear to imagine Loki dead. He couldn't go through it again. Not again...never again! He swore to himself.

Immediately, Thor quickened his footsteps. It was hard to climb up the slippery, sand cliffs of the Dark-World but Thor pressed on never deterred. The hours were ticking away and he hadn't much time. He had to get to Loki quickly, he couldn't waste time that they didn't have. Convergence would come in now less than two days time it would approach. He needed to be back in Asgard to ready the troops. More importantly he couldn't waste time Loki didn't have. Who knows what manner of evil the leader of the Dark-Elves intended for him.

As he proceeded, his head continued to turn thoughts over and over. He thought about Sif's words back in the cave. What if Loki was up to something? Could there be some trick up his sleeve? Thor shook his head, shading his eyes from the grains of black sand blowing in his face like mist off of the sea. He spit the sand from his mouth as if he had tasted food with too much pepper on it. He shook his head trying to banish such a terrible accusation from even entering into his conscious. He would not think ill of his brother. Loki had been nothing, but helpful since he'd been freed from his lowly prison cell. He'd been true to his word every step of the way thus far. He'd proven himself and shown his true colors. His brother had saved his life, he reminded himself mentally. Surely, if Loki truly had intentions of betrayal he would have executed them on the battlefield. He'd been at the mercy of Loki's schemes then. He'd been dependent upon Loki to get them to the dark-World. Loki could have easily taken them somewhere else had he wanted to. It was Loki's plan of deception that they'd all been following. Loki could have tricked him then, he could have really cut off his hand. He could have really injured him with his daggers, but he hadn't. Better yet he could have let the Kursed pound him into the black sands. The Kursed had been pummeling him, his boulder like fists seemed to be everywhere and for every move that Thor had made to counter the onslaught of the beast, the Dark-Elf monster had only had a move to best him. He was face down in the dirt at that point, weak and battered, beaten into a bloody pulp. He had almost been waiting for the kill strike, he'd been expecting the monster to drop the massive rock on his head and finish him. Loki could have let him die in the dark wastes of Svartalheim. The magician could have stood by and watched and laughed. With that he could have allowed Ragnorok to come then and there and that would have ended it, but he hadn't. His brother hadn't abandoned him he'd proven himself. He'd proven that in his heart there was still a good honorable man, still the faithful brother he'd grown up with.

Sif was wrong! She was wrong about Loki! Thor knew that the shield-maiden did not trust the ex-prince of Asgard. He would even say that Sif dow right detested Loki at this point. He supposed he couldn't blame her. Loki had done so much wrong. He'd committed so much evil. He'd become such a despicable scoundrel in such a short period of time it It was hard to trust him after all the wrong he'd done. He'd done things that were unspeakable and it was hard to forgive him for the vile crimes he'd committed, but Thor was beginning to. He was beginning to see the old Loki shining through in his brother's green eyes. He saw it in the moment when Loki had been willing to assist him. He saw it when he and Loki escaped in the Dark-Elf aircraft. They had been laughing and joking and teasing each other they way they always had, the way brothers should. Oh how he'd missed that! The halls seemed so quiet without having his brother to talk with. He'd seen it when he saw Loki fighting. He fought so ferociously. His daggers were a vicious blur and any Elf that crossed his path met a swift and unseen end at the point of the blade. Why would Loki fight with such vim and vigor if all he had intended was just to betray them in the end? It would have been a waste of energy and Loki was never one to waste energy. That was one of the reason's he preferred magic to actual battle, it just saved energy.

Loki wasn't out to betray them, even Loki was not so evil, not so wicked and twisted and perverse that he would do something to conspire with the Dark-Elves. That was an outrageous accusation. They'd killed Dagmar, after all, Loki would never work with the murderers of the woman that he'd loved. Thor had seen the rage glowing in his brother's emerald gems as he talked about avenging Dagmar's untimely death. He wouldn't betray her. He wouldn't betray him. Would he?

The bulky warrior's legs sank into the sand hill. The wind was picking up and it was getting harder and harder to trudge through the storm. Thor gritted his teeth as he pressed against the boisterous winds. Their howl was loud and grating in his ears. He pulled his head cloak tighter over his shoulders and shielded his eyes with his mammoth sized muscles. All the while the grains of sand continued to pound against his tanned skin as he marched a long.

He traveled further, he felt like he had been walking for hours and for all he knew he very well could have been. The sand storm had gotten so thick that the white storm had nearly been blotted out by the clouds of onyx sands. Thor wasn't sure if he would be able to keep traveling through the storm. He could scarcely see his hand in front of his face. He coughed as sand got caught in his throat making it difficult to breathe. Finally, Prince Thor decided to try and fly above the sand storm. He spun Mjolnir about over his head three times, harnessing the power of wind, thunder and lightning to cause him to soar above the tempest. Thor took off, he started to get headway and rise above the swirling ash, but a strong gust came and knocked the prince out of the sky. The powerful blast of ash and air landed Thor on his back.

Thor skidded across the black sand. The winds rolled in quickly and he wasn't even able to catch hi breath before the grains of sand were packing in around him, threatening to bury him alive. Thor clawed his away out of the onyx dust that in circled his feet. He swung his magnificent hammer once more. This time gathering more of the forces of nature so as to help propel him above the storm. Before long Thor was able fly above the sandstorm. He sent lightening spewing forth from Mjolnir, trying to cut through the clouds of black sand and dark dust trying to see any signs of Loki. "LOKI!" Thor continued to call out with every flash of lightening that he produced. His desperate cry of Loki's name was a burst of the thunder that echoes across the empty land.

The thunderer shouted and bellowed his brother's name until his voice was nearly gone. It was slowly being drowned out by the hollowing winds carrying the grinding black sands. The winds started to pick up and the clouds of sand started to rise as if the very elements of this land were determined to deter the young prince in his quest. The son of Odin had to press himself to fly higher and higher into the atmosphere to keep from being over taken by the turbulent sands. All the while in the midst of the storm condemning him through the screeching winds. "This is stupid!" the winds taunted.

Was this plan truly stupid? It was certainly seemed like a fools errand. When he looked at it rationally it was foolish to risk everything to rescue one person. Especially, who was a convicted war criminal, a treasonous murdered imprisoned for his conspiracy against the crown of Asgard, a person who had committed some of the most vile atrocities any in Asgard or probably any other realm had ever heard of, a person who had stabbed him in the back countless time, one who had turned wicked and cruel and vengeful, one who he shouldn't trust, a treacherous, murderous scoundrel. Maybe it was a stupid decision to attempt to rescue one such as that.

Perhaps Lady Sif had spoken plain truth. Perhaps this was stupid. He doubted that even Loki would disagree. He could almost hear Loki's snarky, aristocratic voice snapping at him for coming out into the Svartalfheim desert alone. "Fool!" Thor could just imagine Loki's skillful tongue forming the insult as he looked over his shoulder and found him unlocking the fetter. "I bought you time, you should have used it wisely and returned to Asgard, imbecile," Loki would scold, but all the while he wouldn't be resisting being rescued.

Perhaps what this was stupid, naïve, foolish, idiotic even. He was caught in a terrible sandstorm, had no idea where his was and time continued to race toward Convergence and he had no idea whether he was any closer to finding Loki. It certainly wasn't the best of plans, but he didn't have another plan. The only options were to try to press on and hope he find Loki or try to turn around head back toward the cave and to leave Loki behind and let the chips fall where they may...toss his hands up and let fate decide his brother's outcome. Well the latter was no option at all. With that the blonde-haired son of Odin concluded that this was indeed stupid, but it was also simply the right thing to do.

And it seemed to him that often time that was the way of it. The foolish way was often the right way. It was like cheating to win. It was smart to win, but wrong the cheat. It was stupid to lose; no one ever set out to be a loser. If one knew a way to win then doing whatever it took to win would ultimately be the smart thing to do, but winning through cheating wasn't right. And a win that came through cheating was no true victory. And defeating the Dark-Elves and knowing that he had left his brother behind wouldn't have felt much like a victory either. He'd win a battle but lose a war and any good general knew it was better to lose a battle than an entire war.

It was foolish, but righ and that was all there was to it. Like loving a mortal was foolish. A mortal woman was subject to sickness, prone to weakness, destined to life that was a mere vapor. It seemed so unwise to bestow such profound love upon such a fleeting individual. It was especially unwise when there was a woman of Asgard, strong and vital, brave and beautiful and willing to give love, groomed to be his equal in every way, respected and honored among their people and more than willing to be his queen. But in the end to chose her would have been wrong it would have cheapened the love life that they were both longing for and deserving of. Loving a mortal may prove to be a quick thrill, but it would be worth it. Even if it was just for a moment of time it would be the best moment of time. It was foolish but it was right. It was right to to follow ones heart at all times.

The all-father had once had a chance to leave Loki behind. He had no obligation to the little Jotun runt that he'd found in the ice temple. Surely, after centuries and centuries of raging war against Laufey and his ilk Odin would have no ties to the puny babe. If anything he should have wanted the child dead. One less Jotun to rise up and fight in the Frost Giant armies in the future. He recognized that the baby was a child of Laufey why would he spare, his enemies son, his enemies heir? Why not just let the child freeze to death, better yet why not finish the job? No one would have objected. No one was there to protest.

It was foolish not to let the child die, even more foolish to bring the babe hom. A Jotun in Asgard? What could Odin have been thinking? Maybe to take King Laufey's son back to Asgard and rearing the child as a slave, yes that would have been acceptable, probably even applauded. Loki could have been a shiny prize used to taunt the Jotuns, to remind them that their place was below the Aesir. He could have stood as a reminder of what would have happen to the rest of their kind if they stepped out of line and broke the truce they'd formed again, he could have been considered a war tax. That would have been reasonable, that would have made sense. But that hadn't been Odin's plan. He had planned to rear a Jotun child as a prince of Asgard, surely, that was madness. It was madness, but it had been worth it. Thor couldn't have imagined a wiser decision that the great king could have made. He could could imagine their family on his life with out his brother, Loki.

After the attack on Midgard and just before Loki's sentencing, Thor went to talk Odin again for the first time about Loki's parentage. "Do you regret your decision to bring Loki here, father?'Thor posed with trepidation. The council was calling from Loki's death and Odin hadn't challenged them or declared that he wouldn't put Loki to death. Thor feared the worse fate for his brother.

"I regret many things," Odin began to express as he looked down at his gilded writing desk. He fiddled with his quill continuous dabbing it in the ink, stalling signing the sentencing papers. He sighed finally, allowing the quill to fall still and rest in the ink canister. "I regret the outcomes, Thor. I regret the war and fear and chaos that Loki has spread throughout the Nine-Realm" Odin concluded as he bobbed his gray head and scratched his bearded chin. "I regret...I regret the madness," Odin stated his voice was soft and subtle. "I regret what Loki had become,"Odin reported as he mashed his lips together. "Indeed I regret that," he repeated. "I regret the decisions I made that led us here," the king confessed, his wrinkled bronzed hands straying to stroke the portrait of his two sons. Absently allowed his old hands to trace across the painting depicting his two song as young and eager lands. A faint smile ghosted between the mustache and beard on Odin's face. As he along the edges, outlining the dark-haired child's pointed features. Thor watched as he noted his father letting out a silent chuckle. It happened so fast that honestly Thor had almost missed it. "I regret what I didn't do," Odin breathed as he folded his hands for a second and then running his gnarled fingers through his thinning white ringlets. He pushed from his chair and slowly paced toward the diamond shaped stained glass window on the right hand side of his study. "And I regret the decision that I will have to make," the king who wore a patch spoke up quietly as he pressed the tips of his fingers against the glass of the colorful window.

"Father," Thor started to interject. He could hear the pain in the older man's tone. He wanted to tell his father that there was another way that they didn't just have to give into the council's demands that there must have been some loophole they could exploit, but before he could say anything else Odin spun around. The king of Asgard squared is shoulders before turning around and firmly clasping his eldest son by his broad shoulders "But I never once have regretted rescuing Loki," Odin pledged as he looked up at Thor water lodged in the corner of crinkles of his eye. "I don't regret bringing his to Asgard...I don't regret bringing him home," the blue-gray eyed king confirmed.

Odin didn't regret rescuing Loki and neither would Thor. No matter what the outcome of rescuing Loki was it was worth it. It was just then that Thor noticed that the winds had died down tremendously and that the ash no longer swirled about him in an inferno of darkness. Everything was calm and still, it was dead and lifeless, such was the nature of that bleak world. Thor's blue eyes finally looked out because he was finally able to see. He peered down at the valley below the black ash dunes he saw the ruined strong hold city of Ichabod. And there amidst the rubble her saw a blockade of gruesome, gothic, grotesque "Ts" stretching toward the gray sky. They stood like evil trees on top of the barren land. A hellish red glow was emitted from the one in the center, Malekith's flag ship. Thor's boots landed with a thud on the sand hill that overlooked the valley of black Ts. A shiver ran up Thor's spine as he thought about the terrible tortures that Malekith had no doubt concocted for Loki. That's being was ruthless. "Hang on, brother, I'm coming for you," he swore as he descended the black sand slopes.


Furious hooves pounded like thunder as a group of Imperial stallions raced across the illuminated rainbow bridge toward the Bifrost. The horses were brought to an abrupt halt causing the animals to rear on their hind legs and whinny and neigh as the stopped just out side the Bifrost observation chamber. Hiemdal!" shouted Lord Algrim as he dismounted his silver steed and stomped toward the entrance point of the Bifrost Site. A team of about ten more horsemen soon followed behind the chief adviser to King Odin. Amongst the ranks were a handful of palace guards as well as two other members of the High Council of Asgard and Lord Audric.

Asgard's noble guardian stood at attention. His shrewd and watchful eyes never breaking from their trance like vigil of staring out into the vast and mysterious cosmos. He observed with great interest the events of the universe now. The universe was always circling. Always spiraling and always in motion. He observed as the Nine Realms drifted through the paths of Yddrasil, their orbits quicker than normal as they rushed to align for Convergence. It was magnificent to behold they were almost in prfect order. It was dreadful.

Heimdal was wise and ancient. He had observed much in the centuries that he'd been assigned the duties as Asgard's gatekeeper, but even he had only ever beheld the majesty of the Convergence twice and one was when he was but a small boy, learning the ways of the gatekeeper. Now he still looked at it with wonder, but not the innocent awe that he had when he'd first seen it as a lad, nor with the knowledgeable astonishment when he'd had the chance to observe it once more in his early years as Asgard's gatekeeper. Now he watched with awe and trepidation as each turn and twist of the realms could spell the end of all things.

"HEIMDAL!" Lord Algrim's blaring voice sliced into the guardian's solitude and concentration. His sharp and angry voice was followed by the stomping of his curly-toed slippers as they made their way up the steps of the pedestal where the guard stood watch. Lord Audric immediately followed behind Lord Algrim along with the members of the High Council, the soldiers stampeded in last and immediately started to gather around the guardian. Algrim was fuming, his pale pointed ears were a hot red on the tip and his breathing was ragged. He was furious at the fact that Heimdal did not immediately answer him. He reached out his bony fingers to clutch around the armored plates of Heimdal's shoulders in order to spin him around.

Just before the thin Light-Elf's finger tips could even graze Heimdal's polished and shiny golden armor Heimdal answered. "Lord Algrim," Heimdal's baritone voice responded flatly as he kept his golden eyes trained on staring out at the cosmos. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?' he asked formally as he slowly shifted to face the pointy earred elf.

"Do not act as if my presence takes you by surprise!" the chamberlain snapped his shoulders heaving.

Heimdal stood flat footed with his palms calmly resting on the hilt on the sword which served as the mystic key to the Bifrost Portal. "I did not say that I was surprised to see you, my lord," the dark-skinned warrior informed. "I merely asked why you had come to see me," he explained further.

"Do not play games, Master Heimdal" remarked another member of the council. A well respected retired Admiral of the Viking troops, by the name of Ponith. He was a battered a grizzled looking figure amongst the council. He had a wooden leg, he'd lost his leg in one of the more intense battles against the Frost Giant's. One of Laufey's soldiers had gotten on board his ship and had frozen the ship completely along with most his crew, he wasn't completely frozen solid, but his leg had been covered in ice and the Frost warrior was coming to finish the job. But rather than fall at the hand of an enemy, Admiral Ponith took his own blade, sliced through the ice and sawed his own leg off, he did so just in time to abandon ship. His face was scarred and filled with stitches. There was one stitch that ran across his forehead and another that ran over his right right eyes. Admiral Ponith had become famous throughout Asgard for his valor during the Frost Giant Wars.

" I play no games Admiral Ponith," Heimdal stated. "I have never been one prone to jokes," he reminded the warriors and noblemen who can to accuse him. It was true the chestnut skinned guardian was of an austere disposition and always had been. It was for this reason that he'd been selected as a candidate for guardianship training. "if I knew why you were here, I would not inquire," the gatekeeper answered once more.

"I will make this simple then, Heimdal," Lord Algrim spoke up once more, drawing burnished bronzed eyes back to looking at him. "I will ask you this question and I and I will ask it but once," the elfin leader qualified. "I expect a direct and honest answer, Heimdal, do you understand?" the elfin adviser decreed. The light-elf pinned the warrior of Asgard with a deadly glare. And all who heard Odin's adviser speaking could tell that his words were spoken in all serious and that his abrupt manner and curt words were meant to be taken as a threat. Although it was hard for a man such a Algrim to threaten a man such as Heimdal. Algrim was a narrow wisp of a man. Like most Light-Elves he was much smaller in stature than an Aesir. Although elves could vary in size, some were the size of dwarfs while other could stand to the height of a Midgardian very few measured up against men of the Aesir, especially men of Heimdal's size. The gatekeeper was enormous, he stood at a tremendous height of nearly 6'7. Algrim was skin and bones, Heimdal was strapping and rugged a man forged to fight and defend from a tender age. His muscles were solid a rocks and his eyes keen and the way he wielded a blade had left many cut down. Dressed from head to toe in gleaming armor made of the purest gold and decorated with a helmet that was fit for a prince of Asgard himself, with horns might and powerful that would strike fear into the hearts of his enemies as they resembled a bilgeschnipe's antlers and a bildgeschnipe was one of the most fearsome and terrible creatures in the Nine-Realms he was a battle ready man. .Algrim was a diplomat, a philosopher and politician. His finely tailored garments made of expensive silks and dyes in the most regal of colors, purples and blues and silvers, his ringed fingers and bejeweled neck left the elf fit for little else but debate. He'd never known the heat of battle. Odin's advisor was an elderly man only a few years younger than Asgard's ruler. Heimdal was relatively young a middle aged man in comparison to white skinned, gray-haired and frail looking Algrim. It was no wonder that the High chamberlain felt the need to speak loudly but also carry a big stick

Heimdal allowed his brown eyelids to slide closed and he took a deep breath, "Yes, my lord," he answered humbly as he opened up his radiant eyes once more.

"Where is Loki?" the elfin adviser demanded. Algrim's white eyes burrowed deep into the guardian's he would not yield until an answer was torn for Heimdal's full brown skinned warriors shoulders remand's rigid and his posture unaltered. His lips remained tight, he merely bowed his head as he contemplated how to carefully answer the high ranking council member.

"Heimdal did you hear Lord Algrim?" Admiral Ponith spoke up. Unlike the skinny chamberlain, Ponith was an impressive figure his body standing nearly toe-toe with Heimdal. Muscles bulged from beneath his tunics and the skin that was exposed on his wrist bore intricate tattoos.

"I did my lord," Heimdal answered as he regarded the admiral.

"Then answer him!"

'Do you expect me to break my word and repeat my question and ask you twice?" Lord Algrim asked angrily.

"No, my lord," the chocolate skinned guardian retorted politely.

"Then answer him," Lord Audric spoke up as he pushed his way pass the guards that back Lord Algrim. Lord Algrim turned toward the Vanir noble trying to still his temper but the gray-bearded man would not be quelled. "This matter concerns the fate of the realms and the fate of my very household, I'll have him answer," he stated firmly even stepping past the Light-Elf and standing in Heimdal's face.

Heimdal moistened his full lips, his large Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Lord Algrim I am not aware of Loki's location at this moment," conveyed the gatekeeper.

The Vanir prime minister rolled his purple eyes, mashed his lips together so tightly so that his beard and mustache almost touched, he clenched his fist together and he wished he'd had his staff so that he could have struck the guard of the Bifrost. "Insufferable!" the regal Vanir spat.

Lord Algrim placed his bony fingers on his friend's shoulders to steady him, "Master Heimdal," he continued. "Are you saying that you are unaware of the fact that the war criminal, Loki who has been sentenced to 500 years in isolation is not in his cell this close to Convergence?" the elf qualifies. The skinny, politician pushed in front of the Vanir Prime Minister to challenge Heimdal.

"No," the proud warrior confirmed.

"Then you knew?" Algrim accused.

"Yes," the guardian reported.

"You knew that Loki had escaped from prison and you didn't report it immediately?" explained Ponith. "That's treason!" the member of Odin's council nearly screamed as he turned to Lord Algrim his one good eye bulging with horror at the guards confession. At the very mention of the word treason the palace guards who accompanied Lord Algrim to the Bifrost raised their electro-staffs toward Heimdal.

"Master Heimdal Is this true?" Algrim questioned testily, his voice rippling with a mixture of horror and rage.

"Not entirely," the earthen-skinned gatekeeper stated slowly and with out apology. He did not bat a black eyelash over his golden eyes as he faced those before him.

"And what part is inaccurate?" Odin's adviser pressed his tipped ears twitching.

"Loki did not escape," Heimdal informed.

"Then why is he unaccounted for in the prison?" demanded one of the palace guards as he raised his staff higher. "The prison has been on lock down since the Dark-Elf attack," he reported. "Once all the prisoners were returned to their cells we have sent no one down there," he announced. "Today was the first time in nearly a week that the dungeon has been opened and Loki is not in his cell!"

"Loki did not escape...he was released" Heimdal replied simply.

"You mean he had an accomplice,"the rotund Aesir noble speculated as he scratched his chin. "It must have been one of the guards!" the bespectacled member of the council accused.

"Who was it Heimdal?' questioned Lord Algrim. His voice was intense. The stately ebony skinned defender of the realm stood as silent as a statue. "Answer me, Hiemdal confound you!" swore the elfin member of Asgard's high council. The statuesque coffee colored guardian remained silent. "Heimdal if you do not answer me I will hold you in contempt of court. You will be in direct violation of decree of a command of Asgard's High Council and therefore you will be committing treason and will be relieved of your duties as gatekeeper!" the white-haired elf threatened, his voice shrill with panic and his snow white irises stressed with tears. Heimdal considered the ultimatum quickly and without a word or even a fluctuation in facial expression. He was not afraid of Lord Algrim. He knew that the councilor was simply at his wits in with worry and panic over Convergence. He had always respected Lord Algrim and considered him a friend, when this time passed he knew that Algrim would apologize for his harsh words and terrible disposition, but as for now the elf who acted on behalf Odin had to be firm. The threat was serious though, not for Heimdal, but for the realm. If he was relieved of his duties then who would guard the Bifrost? Who would watch out for another attack from the Dark-Elves? Who would stand as Prince Thor's ally?"Guards," Algrim stated his voice wavering as he signaled for the palace soldiers to take the strapping, golden armored guardian into their custody

"I will tell you what I know, Lord Algrim," Heimdal finally spoke up. His bright gold eyes flickering to look between the warriors and council members. "It was Prince Thor who released Loki from his cell," the Bifrost watcher reported. A gasp echoed throughout the Bifrost dome. "He believed he needed Loki's help to get to the Dark-World," he went on.

"The Dark-World?" Lord Audric mumbled with astonishment as he turned toward his long time friend Lord Algrim, the pointy earred elf looked equally as shocked and dismayed by the new information that had just been dropped in his lap.

"Prince Thor wished to follow the decision of the council in keeping the Bifrost closed. He did not want for the people of Asgard to see any disunity in the government in this trying time," Heimdal explained in defense of his young prince. "He believed that Loki was only mage who would know ways off world without using the Bifrost and I concurred."

"You concurred...you concurred?" Lord Ponith echoed baffled by the words he heard tumbling from the ever faithful gatekeeper's lips.

"You had no right to concur with any plans that Prince Thor made that act against the wishes of the High Council!" Algrim shouted.

"Perhaps not, my lord," Heimdal started again, "But Thor is my prince and soon to be my king, " the gatekeeper expressed. "I believed that his plan served in the best interest of the people Asgard and of the realms. I believed his plan is what Odin would have wanted..."

"That is not for you to decide!" Lord Algrim hissed. "The Council has the final vote on these matters while the all-father lies in Oversleep, not Prince Thor!" the skinny elf erupted.

"Why would Prince Thor go to the Dark World?' Lord Audric questioned out loud.

"He went to take the Aether to the Dark-Elves so that Malekith did not return to Asgard to look for it, so that more Aesir lives were not lost!" Heimdal exclaimed.

"You mean he has taken the woman, Jane Foster off world?' the near-sighted member of the council asked his breath-hitching.

"Rash!" Spat Admiral Ponith.

"It was not rash!" Heimdal argued, 'Prince Thor thought this out. He plans to destroy the Aether off world where it can not bring any harm.

"Fool! The Aether cannot be destroyed it can only be made dormant!" Prime Minister Audric elaborated. "If Thor doesn't destroy it then Malekith will have access to the Aether. He will sure stop at nothing to extract the Aether from the mortal woman then he will have it. Convergence is not even 2 days away now! Thor has doomed us all!" the Vanir ruler shouted.

Lord Algrim looked down bitterly, he gritted his teeth and clenched his white fingers together before he raised his head his white eyes glaring daggers at the gatekeeper and he set his jaw firm. "Master Heimdal, in allowing Thor to violate the decrees of the council and to defy the express commands of our king, Odin you have committed treason, you have jeopardized the lives of all the inhabitants of the Nine-Realms and you have broken your sworn oath as gatekeeper! You are hereby under arrest!" Lord Algrim declared staunchly. "And relieved of your duties as gatekeeper," Algrim stated sternly although his white eyes were not able to look at the abony skinned gaurdian in the face. "Guards!" the thin elf bellowed, 'Take him to the dungeon!" he decreed as he stepped down from the platform.

The guards did as the prime minister of Asgard commanded. Heimdal submitted to the dictates of the Odin's most trusted adviser. He held out his log like arms and allowed for the palace soldiers to clap him in irons like he was one of the dregs of the universe. They shackled him and stripped him of the sword which was the key to the Bifrost. They escorted him away from the Bifrost site. There were few times when he left his post. If he left at all it was only for few short hours a few time a week. The noble guardian had been endowed with the ability to go days on end with out shut-eye or nourishment. If he did leave he left his young apprentices to watch in his stead. He was marched down the steps and the tether to the chains on his wrist was bound to the horses saddle and he was lead away following behind a horse walking shamefully away from the Bifrost across the rainbow bridge.


Sigyn Arnodttir paced with in the confines of her chamber. She wrung her sweaty palms out like wash rag while she marched back and forth in front of the arched window. This was all wrong. All wrong. So, so, wrong and it was all her fault. She'd put up such a fuss. She'd nearly made a fool of herself trying to convince Lord Algrim to allow her to give Loki the letter and Loki wasn't there. It was so odd, he'd gone, vanished like a phantom, no guard had seen him leave and there was no sign of forced entry like on the other cells which hand been smashed open by Kursed. Loki just simply wasn't there.

Not seeing him there frightened her and worried her. If he wasn't in his cell then where was he? Was he safe? She did hope he was safe. Her mind raced back to the fuzzy image she had of an ugly smiling, alien looking blue face with a mouth full of bloody, red teeth. The image made her cringe. What if that terrible creature had gotten to Loki? Was he torturing Loki? Was Loki working with him? But while she was worried about Loki, Lord Algrim and the guards and Lord Audric were only worried where Loki was. They were frightened of the havoc they thought that the once prince may unleash. So they sought the only one who could possibly have answers. Heimdal. Sigyn couldn't begin to speculate what kind of answer Heimdal had given, but it was obvious that it wasn't a favorable one and now Hiemdal was locked awn the dungeons. She had to see him.

Sigyn poked her blonde haired head out the door, she swung it back and forth as her eyes searched to make sure that the coast was clear. Softly, her feet padded across the carpeted hallways and down the stone steps of the palace. Besides for the guards and the members of Odin's council the palace was nearly deserted so it made it easy to dart around. But she doubted she would be able to sneak into the dungeons undetected. Guards would be posted all around the area now that they found that Loki turned the corner and almost ran smack dab into Dyson. Lady Sigyn is fingers reflexively wrap around her wrists to keep them from colliding. "Sigyn!" he panted.

Sigyn hopped as his hands brought her body to a stop. "Dyson," she gasped catching her breath. "I...I...I did not see you there," she said once he released her hands.

"I was just coming to see about you, Lady Sigyn," the palace guard stated.

"Me?" she pointed herself and flashed her pretty and innocent grin.

"Yes," the long-haired guard nodded her winning smile made him lose his train of thought for a second. "I...I..," he floundered for words. "I was coming to see if you needed anything," he finally explained. "Anything as in the way of food," he qualified and his cheeks burned crimson. "That... I... you see most of the servants have evacuated the city," he sighed, "But I would be happy to bring you something from the barracks to eat. He dared to allow his eyes to glance at her face and not stare at her dainty feet. Dyson chuckled.

"Thank you, Dyson, but I am not hungry," the queen's lady-in-waiting stated. "With all that is going on, I truly have no stomach," Sigyn sighed as she rose from her ladylike bow before starting to walk away.

The palace guard's hopeful expression faltered. His brow wrinkled with confusion and his mouth arched downward with disappointment. He stepped behind her noting that she was starting to walk back down the corridor in the opposite direction of the way she came. He rushed with clumsy fingers to grab her hand. He caught it and allowed his rough skin to linger on her tender flesh a little longer than it needed t. "You should eat something" he admonished her. "You've had a long day. You have traveled all the way from the Dales and you've been through so much today," Dyson reminded er. His voice trailed off at the end and he lowered his head and averted his gaze. "That was mostly my doing," he pointed to himself, his lowered head allowed for his dusty colored bans to fall in his face. He tried blow them out of his eyes, but it took a heavy handed wipe to keep them back. "That is mostly my fault," Dyson muttered. "I'm sorry, Lady Sigyn," he choked out. "I'm sorry for fighting against you, for trying to drag you off...I...I...I don't know if you can ever forgive me," Dyson started. His knees slowly sank to the floor as he bowed before the noblewoman in an effort to make amends.

"Oh Dyson," Sigyn gasped as she saw the young palace guard groveling before her. "No...no...no," she protested weakly as she waved her hands before him. "Please don't," she begged softly.

"I'm sorry," once again Dyson apologized as he rose to his feet. "I agreed to help you and then in an instant under orders I turned around and tried to hinder you," he expressed.

"It is alright, Dyson," Lady Sigyn forgave as she placed a comforting palm on the young soldier's shoulder. "You were merely following orders. You were doing as you were told and that is the right thing to do in times as dangerous as these," she continued. "What you were doing was wise. "It is I who has acted foolishly," Sigyn confessed with a deep sigh.. "I have disobeyed and ignored every command and instruction that has been given to me," the blonde-haired handmaiden confessed as she started to worry her pink lip. She shook her head vigorously as if trying to dislodge a painful thought. She closed her eyes but the thought still stuck. Liquid welled underneath her long, golden eyelashes. "And look what that has done," she sniffled. "It has brought pain to everyone!" she protested. "Even poor Heimdal!" Sigyn shrieked her voice cracking just a bit. She grabbed her ears shielding them from the shrill sound of her own voice. "Now Heimdal had been put in prison and the Bifrost is left unattended. What if the dark Elves return and there is no one there to send out the signal. it could be a massacre all over agin and it would be on my head!"

"Convergence is not yet here, Sigyn," Dyson reminded her.

"A few hours and a day is all, Dyson" Sigyn stressed.

"Then that means that there is still time," Dyson encouraged her. "I am prepared to give my life to for Asgard and all the realms if that is what it comes down to, but I do not give up hope that something in that scroll could change the outcome for us all," the soldier stated and saluted the young, blonde handmaiden to the queen.

A smile played on Sigyn's tanned face as she sniffled and tried to contain her tears. "Oh Dyson, how can you truly believe that now?" she asked

"Because you've come to far for anything else to be possible now, sweet Sigyn," the palace guard confessed to her as he allowed his hand to graze her cheek and catch the fresh salt tears raining down on her face. She was positively lovely. He hated seeing her cry and vexed with worry. A woman so desirous shouldn't have such heavy burdens on her heart. ",please won't you allow me to bring you something to eat," he offered.

Sigyn shook her golden tendrils, "No," she whispered, "But Dyson, I beg of you," she started and she took his big hands in hers, pulling on them earnestly like a child. "Could you please get me into the dungeons to see Heimdal?" she entreated her friend.

Dyson's pale eyes were wide with shock. This was the second time in one day that she was making such a request of him. He wouldn't disappoint her this time. He set his jaw firm, "You are asking much, Lady Sigyn," he confessed.

"Oh Dyson, I know...I...I know, but it is most important that I see him," she pleaded.

"The prison is on lock down," the palace guard explained as he thought more about her request.

"Heimdal is the only one who could possibly know where Loki is...he's the only chance that I have of getting the scroll to him," Sigyn expressed desperately as she waved the scroll at the palace guard.

"Then it could be the last hope for us all," Dyson determined. "I think I could get you down there, my lady," Dyson started. "It would have to be very late, but I could try to relieve the night guard before the midnight switch, it would give you a window of about 10 minuted to talk with Heimdal," Dyson planned out loud.

"Oh Dyson, that is simply brilliant!" Lady Sigyn exclaimed. Her arms flung out as if she was a bird ready to take off in flight. She immediately wrapped them around Dyson's thick neck. She covered his his face with kisses. Dyson felt all flustered and fluttery on the inside as he felt Sigyn smooth, glossy mouth pressing against the skin on his face. She kissed both cheeks, his forehead and chin in several different places but he longed for her to make contact with his mouth as well. Since he was but a youth he'd fantasized about her kisses. How he used to seethe when he'd watch her pull Loki into a nook and seem like she'd practically be begging for a kiss. Loki was a fool for not cherishing her. AS if the queen's lady-in-waiting heard the inner prayers of Sir Dyson her lips landed on his and for just a moment her tasted her. It was quick and brief she instantly pushed off of him. She was giggling and her cheerful soprano voice was music to his ears. The quick peck left him breathless and mouth gaping still longing for more. After a few seconds the royal soldier closed his mouth and carefully darted his tongue across his lip and he detected the faint flavor of just ripened strawberries.

'On one condition, milady," Dyson qualified as he raised a finger to the air and tried to hide the smug, drunken grin curling across his newly kissed lips.

'Anything!" the golden eyed Aesir noblewoman agreed merrily.

"You have to eat something first." he qualified as he wagged his finger in her face.

Lady Sigyn laughed demurely behind her tanned fingers, she bobbed her head eagerly. "I will...I promise," Sigyn pledged as she brought her hand to cross her heart.

"Good," Dyson confirmed. "I will bring some food to your chamber momentarily. You can meet me back in the dungeon hallway around midnight," he said secretively.

Sir Dyson was true to his word. In less than an hour he delivered a steaming plate of freshly cooked food from the guard barracks. Sigyn was hungrier than she thought she was, she ate the meal with gusto. It was a traditional smoked herring cooked with stewed potatoes and cabbage. Dyson was right the meal wasn't exquisite, but it certainly wasn't bad and it hit the spot in her empty belly. Dyson even provided her with an assortment of breads and cheeses and a few pieces of dried fruits in case she grew hungry later.

The hour grew later slowly. The queen's lady-in-waiting had enough time to take a nap and work on her loom. It felt good to give her fingers something to do if only to keep from nibbling on them. She thought about Lord Theoic's home in Kelby, she thought about the room she'd been given the furnishing was rustic at best, but still it was well decorated, but there had been no loom. She doubted that Theoic knew she liked to use a loom or that she even enjoyed sewing. It never came up in conversation between them. Perhaps she could have this loom moved the Kelby with her when she returned. If she returned, she reminded herself. With every minute that ticked by all of the cosmos were hurled one minute closer to Convergence and if the Dark-Elves got a hold of the Aether by then...well she doubted she'd really need her loom then.

DONG! The first chime of midnight resounded in Sigyn's eardrums as the clock struck 12. It caused Sigyn's sweat slick hands to slip and slide and get tangled in the silk threads that she hand carefully placed in the loom. The youngest daughter of Adiral Arn slowly rose from her set by the loom and wipes wet palms on her dress. She gulped as she pulled a simple, gray cloak from her closet and draped it around her shoulders and tucked the hood of the cape over her blonde tendrils. Quietly, she shut the door to her chamber and tip-toed down the hallway keeping her back pressed against the wall.

"Psst! Psst!" Lady Sigyn hissed from behind a column, she poked her golden locked head from behind the pillar. "Is the coast all clear?" asked the blonde-haired maiden as she pushed the gray hood away from her face to reveal her petite features.

Dyson's big right hand waved and beckoned Sigyn forward from the pillar. 'I think I have bought you some time," he told her somewhat breathlessly, "But you must be quick," he cautioned. "It took quite a bit of convincing on myy part to get the other three guards to leave their post," Dysone explained in a whisper as his eyes darted around the corner to make sure no one was listening. "It is against protocol to leave ones post if if your replacement has not come to relieve you," he went on. "I told them that te captain said for them to go and find their relief in the mess hall, I sent them to find Fyskul and Brohan, but I believe both men are actually patrolling the Southern Gate, so it should take them awhile to find them," Dyson expressed.

"Yes, yes!" Lady Sigyn nodded eagerly, "Oh thank you, Dyson your plan seems to be working marvelously!" she praised as she went to touch her hand toward the iron door of the prison.

"Yes, but you must hurry, Lady Sigyn," the long-haired palace guard continued to encourage as he took hold "Mikkel is a stickler for the rules and he will return promptly in ten minutes if he cannot find Fyskul and Brohan and I can almost guarantee he won't," he stated. "Once they return I won't be able to let you out of the dungeon," Dyson explained.

"I understand," the blonde woman said firmly. "Don't worry, I'll be quick," Sigyn stated as Dyson pushed open the heavy iron door that lead to the dark, dank recesses of Asgards dungeon.

Sigyn walked in a hurried pace pass the confinement chambers where the criminals were being held. Many of them hooted, cat-called and jeered at her. Sigyn tucked her cloak closer around her face and tighter around her bodice trying to cover herself completely. There was a time when she might have been slightly flattered by the ogling of the inmates, but she did not even dignify the scoundrels with a second glance. She kept her gold eyes straight and kept her steps quick and lively and kept her cape drawn over her body. She didn't have much time and couldn't afford any distractions. She walked on for what seemed like a mile through out the prison until she came to a place that was mostly unlit except for the faint, distant glow of one lowly cell in the distance. Sigyn felt along the slime slick walls as she rounded the bend toward the cell.

"Good Heimdal?" Sigyn muttered quietly as she beheld a large man in gleaming gold armor bound with shackles on his wrist and ankles. His posture was slumped as he set on a small bench made of the same material as the cell walls.

Rounded shoulders raised to a height and posture that showed alertness. The head that was bowed with defeat lifted high and proud once more. Slowly, the soldier turned around to face the timid voice that called to him. His copper eyes landed on a sweet, innocent, round face with pursed, pink lips staring back at him wide eyed with hands pressed to the glass. "Lady Sigyn?" Heimdal's baritone voice rumbled from behind the golden force-field that contained him. Politely, he stood up to greet her. He took slow steps to come toward the edge of the cell. The chains that bound him rattles against the stark white floor of his cage. "What are you doing here?' He continued to question. The tree-sized guardian gave the young maiden a smile of reassurance, "You should not be here, Lady Sigyn," he cautioned. "It is very dangerous," he warned her his deep voice hushed. "If the guards catch you and tell Lord Algrim or any members of the council you will be thrown in here along with me. These squalid prisons are no place for one of the queen's ladies," Heimdal expressed gently.

The golden haired woman nodded, gave a smile and waved in a child like fashion as she watched the guardian approach, "Oh Heimdal!" Sigyn gasped as she covered her mouth with trembling hands and she watched the laborious lumbering of Asgard's great gatekeeper. The prisoner's chains held fast around his ankles and kept him from being able to touch the golden shield of his cage. Sigyn shook her head as she looked at the rpoud and noble warrior bound and chained. It was not right. "Oh good Heimdal I am so sorry," she muttered once more. "I had to come," Sigyn whispered back once Heimdal's handsome face was positioned just inches away from touching the glittering shield. "I saw them...I...I saw them drag you away from the Bifrost," Sigyn elaborated. "I...I...I had to see you... I had to come down and apologize to youafter all ...tis my fault! Tis all my fault really" The queen's lady in waiting started to confess as she hung her head. "I wanted to tell you how sorry I was."

"Tis not, Lady Sigyn," Heimdal stated slowly to her.

"Oh yes it is! OH YES IT IS!" Sigyn immediately started to blubber. She raised her hands to cover her face as she wept openly before the watchman. "It-it-it...was...m-m-my -f-f-fault," Sigyn continued to mutter helplessly. "If...if...I wouldn't have come," the fair-haired maiden started. "None of this would have ever happened. My coming has made things go from bad to worse! I thought I was coming to help, but I was foolish! This mission was foolish! I've endangered so many as all of this has been in vain." Sigyn muttered bitterly throwing her hands in the air. Tears pooled in her wide set gold eyes. "If I would have run away from Kelby, if I wouldn't have been so insistent about delivering this letter," Sigyn mumbled as she pulled out the piece of parchment and looked at it angrily. She was tempted to hurl it across the room, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to do so. Even though she was beisde herself with anger and frustration the contents of the scroll were precious. "If I wouldn't have been so insistent on giving this parchment scroll to Loki," Sigyn expressed as she fumbled in the pocket of her drape before pulling out the folded scroll. She shook it in front of Heimdal's radiant eyes before she choked out another sob. With that cry she fell to floor on her knees. He pretty dress now damp with mud as she sat with the scroll in her lap. "Oh Heimdal if I wouldn't have come here and pushed so hard to give Loki the scroll then no one would have ever gone to Prince Loki's cell and found that he wasn't there. Then Lord Algrim wouldn't have come to you and blamed you...and...and locked you in this awful cell," Sigyn reported. "Tis monstrous! Monstrous! You don't deserve to be in here," Sigyn stated as she finally looked up from her trembling hands that held the scroll. She looked at the room, white and sterile and empty, not furnished. She looked at the surroundings. There leaks in the ceiling and she knew that all manner of vermin were scuttling across the muddy floor. The thought made her skin crawl and made her want to stand to her feet. She looked at Heimdal. The great keeper of Asgard. She didn't know of a man more loyal to the house of Odin and now he was chained and fetter as if he'd done something terrible. It wasn't right and it was all her fault. "You shouldn't be here," she went on. "You should be guarding the Bifrost!" Sigyn pointed out. "Not locked in here like a criminal! Now all of Asgard is exposed and vulnerable it's all because of me," Lady Sigyn muttered as her eyes welled up with tears once more.

Heimdal shook his hands and his head. "Lady Sigyn, that tis not your fault,"the guardian told her.

"Yes, it is," Sigyn argued.

"No, Sigyn," Heimdal sighed. His deep masculine voice was laced with tenderness. "Eventually, Lord Algrim and the High Council would have found out that Loki was no longer in the prison, they would have come to me about it sooner or later," the wise gatekeeper explained. He smiled down at her the look on his chestnut skinned face was mild. 'I was prepared for that," he expressed. "When Prince Thor told me of his plan to free Loki and have him take them to the Dark-World I knew it was an act of treason and I willingly agreed to be a participant in it," Heimdal told her. "Do not weep for me Sigyn, I am responsible fore me own fate," the dark-skinned warrior assured her.

Lady Sigyn's trembling gold eyes stared at the guardian, she shook her head. " But why, Heimdal? Why did you agree to treason, Heimdal?' Sigyn asked in confusion. Heimdal was honor bound to scour Asgard and report traitors to the crown.

'It was the lesser of two evils" the statuesque gatekeeper expressed. "The Councils wish was to wait for the Dark-Elves to return and fight them here. We have lost too many lives already. Prince Thor's plan was to take the fight to the Dark-Elves covertly so as not to alert the Council. He needed Loki to do that." Heimdal stated without apology. Sigyn nodded and sniffled as she tried to stop herself from crying.

'You trusted Loki, then, Heimdal?" the gentlewoman asked a slight smile on her face.

The gatekeeper's full lips parted to reveal his handsome smile, but it was only for a moment and then his expression once again became austere. "Trusted, may be too strong of a term," the guardian of Asgard stated. Sigyn's face faltered with disappointment. Perhaps she was the last one in the realm who placed any hope in the dark-prince and maybe that was foolish as well. "But Prince Thor believed that Lady Dagmar's death would be enough motivation for Loki to stay faithful to Asgard in this time of crisis. He believed Loki would want to avenge her."

"Loki loved Dagmar," Sigyn reported resolutely although the words were painful to say, 'He loved her so much...so greatly." she sighed bowing her head in reverence to the once prince's fallen love. "He would have wanted to avenger her, Prince Thor is right."

"I know of Loki's love for Dagmar," Heimdal admitted with a sad smile. "But I don't know if avenging Lady Dagmar is the same as being loyal to Asgard or to Thor or to Asgard," he reported.

"So you think that Loki will betray Thorl?" Sigyn asked with wide eyes like a frightened child..

The watchmen regard Sigyn silently for a moment. "Loki has upheld his word thus far. He brought Thor and Einherjar to the Dark-World and he fought with them," Heimdal started.

"Is everyone alright?' the blonde-haired handmaiden asked.

Heimdal swallowed and plced his hands behind hi back. "There have been casualties, my lady," he eyes shut as Sigyn plunged a canine tooth into her glossy lips."They knew the risks Lady Sigyn and they were willing to take them so that the nine realms could live free," Heimdal expressed. "That is the mark of a true Einherjar. Now they rest in the halls of Valhalla."

"of course," lady Sigyn commented doing her best to keep new tears from falling down her cheeks. Her tears would do nothing for the fallen Einherjar now. "And what of the Warriors Three and Lady Sif? A-ar-are all of them alright?" Sigyn inquired nervously of the well being of her friends.

"Wounded, but no worse for the wear," Heimdal informed and her allowed his lips to pull into a rare smile.

The golden-locked lady-in-waiting to Queen Frigga exhaled, "And Lady Jane, is she well?' the Aesir noble woman wondered.

"She has survived," the austere guard reported. "The Aether has been purged from her."

"Oh good! Good! Good!" Lady Sigyn breathed clasping her hands together and beaming at the prisoner.

"Not as good as you may have hoped, my lady," Heimdal raised his hand to quell the young maiden's excitement. Sigyn's pink lips stuttered and her liquid gold eyes batted as Heimdal's sobering words threw her off kilter. "The Aether is in the hands of Malekith," he confessed.

Sigyn threw her hand toward her mouth , "No!" she gasped as she se looked at the noble gatekeeper in horror and shock. "No! No! NO!" Sigyn shouted protesting against the notion. "So what does this mean?" the fair-haired maiden asked bewilderment. "That Ragnorok is sure to come?" Lady Sigyn choked out as she started sob.

"Nothing is set in stone until it has occurred," The ancient seer spoke stoically. "Convergence has not yet occurred and Ragnorok has not yet taken place. There is still hope..."

"W-w-w-well w-w-where is Prince Thor?" she stammered.

"He searches for Loki," Heimdal informed.

"Loki? Loki? Loki isn't with Prince Thor and the Einherjar? He was kidnapped!" Sigyn immediately confluded. her big golde orbs pooling with tears. "Do you think Malekith is trying to use him to unleash the Aether?' Sigyn questioned Is Loki alright? Is he hurt?' Sigyn demanded as she started to wipe her shimmering eyes.

"This far away from the Bifrost, Lady Sigyn I am afraid I can see nothing," the guardian sighed. "Though before I was removed from my post I tried to turn my gaze to him and could not seem him," Heimdal confessed.

"What do you mean?" gold eyes blinked.

The gatekeeper heaved a dramatic sigh. He was not proud of what he needed to admit. "Loki has long since found away to conceal himself from me and conceal others if he so chooses," the dark-skinned gatekeeper informed.

"Master Heimdal," Sigyn's voice came out in a breathy puff, "Y-y-you don't really think that Loki -w-would betray all of Asgard do you?" she didn't gie the warrior a chance to respond. 'I...I...I mean...t-t-ther could be a million reasons why you can't see him. Couldn't it be the Aether. Surely the Aether clouds things," she went on frantically.. She started to gasp for air.

\ "Lady Sigyn, why did you return to the Imperial City?" Heimdal questioned.

Tanned shoulders shrugged as she wiped her eyes trying to keep from crying anymore. "To give this scroll to Loki," she mumbled as she showed Heimdal the small rolled up piece of parchment wrapped in ribbon. She thought he had explained that when she was telling Heimdal about why it was her fault, but maybe she hadn't said that after all. She was feeling so flustered that she hardly knew what she was talking about.

"Yes, but why? why was the scroll so important that you had to return?"

"I..." Sigyn froze this line of questioning seemed odd coming from Heimdal. Heimdal stood at the Bifrost he could see to the branches Yddrasil, surely he knew why she had come all this way. "It was Lady Dagmar's dying wish that the scroll be given to Loki. I could not call myself her friend if I didn't honor her last request," Sigyn stated.

Heimdal's lips formed a small smile. "Noble intentions indeed," he commended the blonde-haired noblewoman. He nodded firmly and then turned around and paced a little bit. "You risked so much. What information could the scroll contain that would be worth you running away from your husband to be, defying your father and arguing si vehemently with Lord Algrim?" he inquired.

The amber eyed maiden took a deep breath before she told Heimdal of the contents of the letter. Heimdal's eyes widened ever so slightly as he listened to Lady Sigyn talk of the possibility of Loki and Dagmar's hidden love child. "Do you know what became of the child?" Sigyn posed at the end.

Asgard's great gatekeeper shook his head. "I never knew of the child between the two of them," Heimdal admitted. "I knew of Lady Dagmar's pregnancy I didn't know who the father of the child was. It was told to me that it was the representative from Vanaheim Olaf Dirkson. I looked on her when she went into labor. It was a difficult delivery, I only glanced upon her for a second and then went tolook upon something else. When I looked upon her again, thinking to see her and the babe I merely found her sobbing into her fathers arms as he told her that the child was lost. I didn't know who the child was so I could not seek the child out," Heimdal explained.

"I came back because I thought that if the child was a live and Loki knew about it perhaps it would convince him to turn from his wicked ways," the queen's lady-in-waiting confessed.

"Maybe it will, Sigyn," Heimdal told her.

"But the child could be dead," Sigyn blurted out. "If that is the case then I have risked everyone's life by coming here for nothing," Sigyn muttered bitterly. "But it doesn't matter, Loki isn't here and...and..and the dark-Elves are already in possession of the Aether..."

"The child could very well be dead," Asgard's guardian responded. "But we don't know so we must hold on to hope," Heimdal encouraged. "Hope to the last Sigyn. The dark-Elves were in possession of the AEther, but Convergence is not yet, until that moment we have to believe that Thor can prevail against this evil"I am sure the guards will be returning soon. You must make haste and leave this place, Lady Sigyn," Heimdal whispered to her. The waiting gentlewoman to queen Frigga nodded as she slipped her gray hood back on to of her gold ringlets and tucked the scroll inside her cloak. "Lady Sigyn," Heimdal called to her as she started to leave. "I don't know what the fate of the child is, but the fates ordained for you to have the scroll and if there is away to prevent Loki from bringing Ragnorok, I believe you possess it."


Prince Thor slid down the ashen sand slopes that overlooked Ichabod where Malekith and his men had regrouped. The ruins of the city made an excellent retreat and provided cover for the army. Thor carefully assessed the situation. He could see a few of the white-faced elves marching about patrolling the grounds. There were only about a dozen or so, but that many he could handle single handed he was sure.

Thor readied his weapon. His bronzed hands gripped Mjolnir tightly, he was ready to hurl it and smash it through a Dark-Elf skull, but somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a mild, aristocratic voice speak sharply to him. "Thor stop and think, look around you, we are out numbered." Thor was almost tempted to turn around and tell Loki to be quiet, but Loki wasn't there. There was no we. There was only himself. He didn't have his friends nor did he have his soldiers and even though he could take on a dozen, maybe even two dozen is pressed or driver by the rage of the berserker staff, but he couldn't take on more than that alone. Besides Malekith was in possession of the Aether, Mjolnir by itself wasn't strong enough to destroy the dark crystal and Malekith knew well how to wield the dark power. The leader of the Dark-Elves would have no qualms about killing him with the Aether just to prove he could. It wasn't that Thor feared for his own life, but he feared for the lives of the innocent across the Nine-Realms. They were depending on him and he could not jeopardize all of those lives just for rash actions. He couldn't come in hammer swinging, lightening sizzling and get himself captured. Not this close to Convergence. This would have to be handled carefully and sneakily. Think. Prince Thor chided himself inwardly. Think like Loki. Loki had always been the one to devise their plans for sneak attacks and infiltration missions. Thor had often ridiculed his brother saying that his passive attacks were cowardly, but he had often forgotten to note that such methods were effective.

Loki one time carried into battle a series of potions he'd developed to help the warriors shape-shift during battle. It seemed so laughable. Thor was also wary of the tonics as he knew the potency of his brother's brew. He'd drank one of them in jest and ended up on all fours barking like a dog, but after Loki had perfected his potions they'd worked like a charm. They infiltrated an impenetrable city in the form of rats. The idea had been brilliant.

The blonde-haired son of Odin concentrated for a moment a superb Loki-like idea came to his head. On the fields of Nornheim in one particularly glorious battle, Loki had veiled them in smoke so that they could make a retreat without losing more men. It was as good a plan as any. He may not have been able to conjure a cloud of smoke out of then air as Loki had done, but luckily, Svartalfheim's sandy atmosphere would make it easy enough to whip up a sandstorm and the fact that sand dervishes were so common that the dark-Elves would be none the wiser.

Thor crouched down in the ashen fields, doing his best to be undetected by the Dark-Elf footman who stalked just outside of the warships. It seemed as though they were bracing themselves for an attack from the warriors of Asgard. The prince ducked down behind the smashed and ruined columns that once stood as the pillars of the city. He wanted to get as close to Malekith's flagship as possible. He knew if Loki was anywhere he'd be there.

Thor was only a few feet from Malekith's ship, he had his back pressed against the backside of a dilapidated building, he poked his golden head around the side to see if the area was clear. The marching soldiers were scattered about, but there was also a huge stretch of open space between the building he was hiding behind and the gangplank to Malekith's ship. He was sure he'd be seen if he tried to make a clean run for it. Now was the time. He unhooked Mjolnir from his belt and slowly began to spin it. The winds automatically picked up. Before long black sand was spraying and billowing and blowing all about. It whipped the Dark-Elf soldiers in the face. Thor watched at their first meager attempts to shield their faces. He spun his mighty mallet harder and harder. The sands all raging in a violent windstorm that was shaped like a funnel.

"Where's this coming from?" asked one of the dark-Elf guards as he shielded his face from the winds.

"Look out!" another called as he pointed out the sand cyclone spinning toward them at a rapid pace. "Take cover!" he shouted as he reached out a ghostly what hand and grabbed onto a comrade pulling him along. Thor could make out the armored shadows scurrying through the sandstorm, hurrying back toward the metallic ships. Thor fell in line with them racing toward the mouth of the open gangplank.

"Some do battle others just do tricks," he muttered to himself with a grin. As he slipped inside the enemy ship. Once inside Thor immediately felt a sharp angled spear point at hi back. A gruff voice muttered commanding words in a language that the prince did not understand as it rammed the tip of the spear in to Thor's flesh. Thor groaned in annoyance as he allowed his fingers to stray to wrapping around the hilt of his hammer. The hammer flung and sailed around Thor's head and cracked the Dark-Elf in the head. The guard landed on his back. "Of course I do better with battle," Thor Odinson declared arrogantly as he loomed over the fallen guard. The Dark- Elf soldier hurled some insult out at the Crown Prince of Asgard and then pressed a panel on the floor.

A blaring sound rang throughout the Dark Elf vessel followed by flashing red lights. Thor took off running as the walls began to converge upon themselves in the entrance way. Thor's massive, muscular body jettisoned down the hallway and up the dark steps as the wall pressed closer and closer together. The walls started to close in on the golden-locked warrior, squeezing his shoulders together. "AHHHH!" Thor roared as he tried to push the walls off of him, but even with all his might he still felt the intense press of his shoulders and rib cage being squished. Blue eyes darted around desperate for an escape. If he didn't get out soon, he'd be crushed flatter than a discus. Quickly, he reached for his magnificent weapon. He tossed it sideways and sent it sailing toward the exit. There it lodged just before the exit. The behemoth of a prince turned his body sideways as well and fast as he could inched his way toward where Mjolnir was plugged in between the two walls both desperate to connect with each other. Thor heard the walls groan and creak as they started to press hard on the obstacle that kept them apart. "Just a little farther," Thor gritted as he did his best to squeeze through the ever tightening walls. Finally he reached Mjolnir and pulled the mallet from between the closing walls. He dived out from in between the walls just in the nick of time hurling himself to the ground as he did so.

Thor's blonde locks flew in his face, but he had no time to catch his breath as watched a flaming torpedo come at full speed toward him. He rolled under it right as it whizzed by. It exploded as soon as it collided with the newly formed wall. The explosion sent several flaming darts and arrows hurling toward him from all directions. The fiery darts came from hidden compartments in the walls of the left and right sides. They rained down flames from the ceiling. Eyes wide, Thor took off full throttle through the field of flying darts. He was a blur as he swerved and zigzagged between the blazing arrows. Panting, he narrowly missed most, but he didn't miss all. Many of the darts grazed him leaving large welt marks where they had punctured his flesh. His cape was singed to nearly a crisp.

On the other side of the mind-field of flaming arrows awaited a small heard of Dark-Elf soldiers. They stampeded down the steps and from the side corridors. Their feet all pounding in time against the metal floorboards. Their faces were all obscured by their ghoulish masks that only hid their equally as lifeless faces. Their pitiless black pupils shining through. They immediately tried to seize the Asgardian prince. Sapphire eyes saw red as he looked at the bloodless faces. Any one of them could have taken Loki. With a warriors cry, Thor swung his mighty mallet and hit one guard right in the gut he sent the soldier sailing into three more of his companions knocking them down like bowling pins. Another guard thought to assault the eldest son of Odin, Thor laughed as he leaped up and kicked one in the chest with both feet, then he pivoted and grabbed two guards heads and knocked them together. He left their bodies lying crumpled on the floor. The elves opened fire. Electric bursts shot forth from their blaster guns. Thor defended himself valiantly against the blast. He used his hammer to block the blasts on the left and right side. Most of the time the electric pulses ricocheted off the face of the hammer and boomeranged back toward the gunman instantly leaving the warrior incapacitated.

Most of Malekith's men lied twitching on the ground, some lied dead. But slowly the few remaining guards began to encircle Thor. Thor was so busy fighting off the foes in front of him and to the sides of him that he forgot to guard his rear. A blast fired at his side caused Prince Thor to double over in pain. The pain of electricity setting fire to his bones forced the proud future king his knees as he clutched his side and dropped his weapon. Everything went blurry for a moment as hot pain pulsated just under his ribs. The sensation was excruciating. He groaned and gritted, but did his best to press pass the terrible agony. He summoned Mjolnir to himself once more. But then he felt nozzle of a blaster gun pressed toward the nape of his neck. Unknown words were barked at him.

"Vot!" A cry in the language of the Dark-Elves arose. "Mishkan lun Malekith!" Thor was hoisted to his feet, his masculine arms forced behind his back and twisted into heavy fetter. With a blaster pressed toward his back and another pressed toward his temple they marched him forward.

He was taken into a dark control room. There, the leader of the Dark-Elves set upon a captains chair like a king upon a throne. His pigment-less face and soulless eyes held a smug expression. His chamber was surrounded by his elfin guards. The guards who had captured him forced him to his knees before their general."Welcome Prince, Thor" Malekith spoke. "We've been waiting for you," he expressed as his eyes gleamed.

"Malekith!" Thor rumbled with a voice of thunder as he struggled rise to his feet against the excruciating pain from his burned side. He used his burly shoulders to push the guards off of him. The mere shrug sent the Dark-Elves sailing toward the gnarled blackened wall of the captain's deck. Instantly, the guards who were standing as Malekith's protection raised their blasters in defense. Thor hum of the machines as they geared up. The Elfin general raised his hand stilling his soldiers, he could see that the thunder was breathless after the act, he saw the gash would that dripped with blood on his side.

He crossed his legs cavalierly the smug grin stayed on his white lips."I was beginning to wonder if you'd come for him at all," Malekith shrugged.

'Loki!" Thor gasped as his sapphire eyes went wide. He let out a feral growl. "You have him?"

"Aye, and he was quite easy to capture, I might add. Pathetic," Malekith spat.

What have you done with him?" the crown prince demanded on his enemy. Even with his hands tied behind his back he still had the power to summon Mjolnir into his palms from being strapped on his belt. He felt Mjolnir cool hilt slam against his calloused hand. Thunder crackled just outside of Malekith's ship..With a shout Thor turned around and using his hand cuffed hands Thor hurled his mighty hammer toward Malekith. Malekith responded rapidly, he clenched his fit together focused his eyes and called upon the power of the Aether that surged inside of him. All at once it exploded and erupted from his body in a swirling blood red grimy mixture that was so powerful that it leveled the room. Thor and the Dark-Elf soldiers all laid flat on their backs when the Aether surge blinked beautiful blue orbs as he tried to reorient himself with his surroundings. The air was clouded with the dark red and black haze of the Aether's powerful blast. As he blink and the heavy cloud of red smoke fizzled from sight he observed Malekith's hideous features staring at him face to face. A sick smile still lingered on his lips.

The Elfin general reached out his white hand and hoisted Thor to his feet by his neck. Only to release him and have the punch drunk prince lose balance and fall to his knees. A position that the warlord relished. Malekith sung his foot around and landed a clean blow to Thor's jaw. The kick sent the blonde-haired son of Odin reeling and somersaulting backward. Thor panted on the ground as he rolled to his side once again exposing his hands so that his hammer could return to him. Just as Mjolnir was about to make contact with Thor's hands once more, Malekith stomped forward and drove the heel of his boot into the fresh burn that the flaming arrows had just caused. Thor screamed out in agony, breaking his concentration of summoning his weapon and landing Mjolnir just outside of his grasp. "Continue to misbehave," Malekith leaned over and whispered to Thor "and I will make sure that your brother's fate is worse than these," Malekith motioned with a lavished hand toward the guards who laid motionless on the floor. Thor grit his teeth to keep from screaming out in pain again. He noted the strewn figures with their dropped weapons and blown off masks and black blood smeared across their still faces. Thor swallowed hard. His breathing growing ragged as his pulse quickened. Malekith would maim his own men. There was no telling what he'd do to Loki.

"You...you...you have me," the future king of Asgard panted at Malekith's feet. "You-y-you...you have me right where you want me...why not just kill me now?"

"Oh do not fear," Malekith qualified wagging his finger in Thor's face. "I intend to. Not here, not now, but in due time. Your people will look to the sky in hope and they will watch me strike you down. I will make sure that they watch your defeat and watch you die in a days times and they will know that there is no salvation for them. They will know Ragnorok has begun," Malekith declared as he rose from his onyx chair. Thor looked at the crazed elf with horror, not for himself but for his people and for the realms. "Besides," the general said flippantly as he finally removed his foot from digging into Thor's side. Thor gasped and coughed as he felt the relief. Malekith skulked over to the control panels with in the cockpit. "I want you to suffer!"His breaths coming as wheezes. "As we have suffered!" he finally hissed spinning around and facing the blonde-warrior like a cobra. "Each man here watched his home destroyed at the hands of your forefather. They sacrificed their loved ones," a white head bobbed. "It is time you do the same!" With that Malekith touch one of the screens and a holographic image appeared.

Thor struggled to roll himself over without the use of his hands. He managed to nudge himself to a kneeling position with the use of his strong chin. The blue images flickered and shifted as they came to focus before Thor's eyes. Thor's watery eyes squinted and strained to make out the image. He saw a frail looking body tethered and strapped down to wiry netting that looked like a giant spider web. Golden hairs stood up on edge as he took in the pitiful image of his brother.

A liquid slid down the threads of the web until they touched the skin of the strapped individual. The touch sent the body twitching, writhing and contorting in an effort to get away, but it was to no avail as he remained stuck. Thor watched as the cruelty continued. The Dark-Elves present wrapped water soaked towels around the face of the man attached to the web. He beheld as they drove vicious taser staffs into his stomach. Thor could observed the burns and lacerations on Loki's abdomen. It made him feel sick to his stomach. He heard Loki cry out. "THOR! PLEASE HELP ME! BROTHER! PLEASE!"

"STOP!" Thor shouted unable to watch the scene any longer. He slammed his eyes shut. "Stop," he demanded. "No more! Your quarrel is with me," the mighty Thor pointed out.

"My quarrel is with every descendant of Bor. My quarrel is with all of Asgard," malekith declared mercilessly.

Thor mashed his front teeth into his lips, he wanted to tell Malekith that Loki was no descendent of Bor, that Loki was no member of the Aesir. "Please," the prince's voice was soft as his hands remained bound behind his back. "Let him go and take me," Thor offered. "Take me! Torment me!" Thor insisted.

Malekith sauntered back to his throne. "I have every intent of doing that," he mumbled, but your capture I have already devised and succeeded in. I'm afraid my price is much steeper for the release of your brother," Malekith stated.

" I don't understand. What do you want?' Thor asked quietly as he glanced up at the general from his knees.

"A guarantee that you will not be able to retaliate against me before Convergence," Malekith qualified as he blew breath on his knees. Thor's lips quivered he shook his head as he started to make utterance. "Spare me your words Asgardian!" Malekith halted the prince. "I need more insurance than that," he spat.

"You already have me as a prisoner," Thor muttered in confusion, "You have the Aether..."

"And you have Mjolnir." Malekith pointed out as he looked down at the weapon only inches away from Thor's fingertips. The son of Odin knew Malekith's implications. Gungnir and Mjolnir were the only weapons powerful enough to cause the Aether to go into dormancy for another 1000 years. If the two weapons combined energy it was the only possible means to stop this Armageddon. "I have a potion that will render you powerless for 48 hrs, long enough for you to not interfere with Convergence. Take it and I will spare your brother," Malekith offered.

Thor's mind reeled. So much was at stake. Surrendering Mjolnir was practically consenting to Ragnarok. It was allowing for the end of all things to come without a fight. How...how could he agree to that? He couldn't! No everyone was depending on him. So many had died and suffered. Mother and father, Jane and his friends they all were counting on him to fight for their lives. Now he was simply supposed to relinquish the might of Mjolnir and all Malekith to spread darkness throughout the nine realms. It was impossible! He'd never forfeited a battle! He'd never conceded victory! He'd not have this be the time when he did...not even for...Loki.

Loki. Images swirled back to Thor's mind. Loki his brother. His little brother who he'd at one time sworn he'd protect at all cost. Memories raced through Thor's mind. He saw himself a curious toddler staring into Loki's cradle and trying to understand this funny, squirming, crying creature that his parents call brother. He thought of Loki as a toddler taking his first steps as he held his hands so eager and ready to be playmate that Thor desired. He thought of them as boys, chasing each other around the palace with wooden swords, jumping on beds, running in the courtyard, throwing balls of snow at each other in the winter time. He thought of the pranks and stunts they'd pull and how they'd support and have each others back. He thought of them as youths, discovering their talents and encouraging one another. The many adventures they'd shared, the danger they'd narrowly escaped, but somehow did. He recalled the secrets they'd shared. Loki was the only person he'd ever trusted to see him cry. He'd lost his brother once he couldn't lose him again.

Thor's Adam's apple bobbed. "I need proof that he's really here," Thor stated with a shaky quiver to his deep voice. "A hologram can be faked," Thor qualified. Malekith allowed something to fall from his hand. It bounced down the steps from Malekith's lofty seat and rolled towards Thor. With bound hands Thor was unable to pick up the small circle rolling toward him, but once it bumped against his knee and halted he recognized it immediately. The ring made out of a Bilgeschnipe's tusk. The one he had carved for Loki all those centuries ago. Loki had risked his life for him then. He'd given his all to save him. He'd nearly died. He'd lied in a coma for 4 days. Tears spilled from Thor's eyes. He heard Loki's hoarse voice say, "You're my brother, I couldn't let you fall,""I need proof that you'll keep your word," Thor spoke up. "I need to know that you'll let Loki go."

"Very well," Malekith agreed boredly. Once again the Elfin general concentrated and allowed the Aether to ooze out of him. It slid forth from out of his body, seeping through his pores. He allowed it to form as a flexing, ebbing blob that hovered in the space in between his hands. "I will reveal to you the Aether. You have the opportunity to break your word and attack me," Malekith stated.

"I agree then. Bring me the Tonic," Thor stated. Malekith snapped his fingers and signaled for one of the guards to bring in the potion. Malekith signaled for the guard to unbind Thor's wrist. The guard did so and Thor massaged around his hands now that the fetters no longer pressed into his flesh. Malekith presented him with the serum. It was a dark purple color.

"You must drink every last drop," Malekith qualified. "Anything less Asgardian and I will extinguished your brother's pitiful life," He threatened and motioned once more to the hologram image where the tormentors continued to prod Loki's belly with electric rods. Thor's big hands held the potion. It was cool to touch and yet his palms dripped with perspiration. His fingers fumbled to pull out the cork. Sweat gathered on his temples and forehead. he didn't want maliketh to win. He didn't want ragnorok and death for his people and for the Nine realms. he didn't want the Cosmoos to be plunged in to darkness or to undo all that his grandfather had done. But he didn't want Loki to die. If he did nothing it would be as if he was killing Loki himself. He couldn't do that. Even though he'd threatened to, he'd never really intended to kill Loki. he knew he never could. What kind of older brother would he be if if he just stood and watched others beat his brother down. That is what had happened in the Void. LOki never said, but there was enough evidence that thta man Thanos had toryure Loki to the point of no return. Look what had become of lLoki because he hadn't helped him sooner. Maybe they would all perish, but at least if he did this act perhaps Loki would finally know that they were brothers. Perhaps all hope wouldn't be lost after all. If Loki was free Loki would think of something. Loki would think of away to save Asgard. Loki knew much of the Aether. All hope was not lost until Convergence came. Loki would get the troops and they'd free him the spell was only supposed last 48 hours, it would end just by the end of Convergence, maybe there would be enough time...Thor tilted the vial upward. The cool glass touched his lips and he allowed the potion to slide on to his tongue. Cold and slimy it ran down his throat. It was so foul tasting he nearly spewed it out by reflex, but he fought against the natural urge and continued to guzzle. He drunk it down vigorously until ever last drop had been lapped up.

Thor felt dizzy, the room started spinning. His body felt weak. His knees knocked together and slowly were no longer able to support him. He slumped to the floor. Leaning over on his hands. His arms shook and quivered. His eye sight started to blur. His whole body was drenched in perspiration and yet he felt as if he was on fire. He felt queasy and light-headed. His stomach roiled and he retched. Vomit was in his long blonde locks and golden beard. His trembling limbs fought to keep him upright. "Reach for the hammer!" Malekith ordered. Weakly, Prince Thor registered the command and tried to obey. His mind was fuzzy and cloudy he couldn't even make out Mjolnir physically let alone try to call to it, but he tried and tried. He stretched out his mind and tried to call to Mjolnir in his mind. It never came. He started to hear the evil guffaw of the dark-Elf leader. he heard doors upen and and feet rush in, Black boots surrounded hm pointing and laughing cheering and clapping at his weakened state.

"I've..." Thor paused as his tongue felt thick in his mouth. "Done..." he panted with exhaustion. "W-w-what...you've asked...p-p-pleasewherezzlowkeyyyy?" Thor slurred as he felt his whole body about to collapse. He started to feel his eyes roll into the back of his head. A pair of boots stepped forth from those circling around him. He felt his hair being gripped and yanked back. The rough yank forced his bright cerulean eyes open. They looked into green ones lace with a malice. A sinister smirk curled on thin lips. "L-L-l-oki? Y-y-your ok?"

"I'm more than ok," Loki proclaimed as he looked Thor's his his cloudly blue eyes. He cackled wildly and loudly. "So nice to know you still care, brother," Loki whispered wickedly in Thor's ear and then dropped him into the pool of his own regurgitations.