A/N" HELLOOO READERS! I hope you all had a wonderful summer! readers I have to apologize to you all I am so sorry that it has taken me so long to update. At the end of August i went on a cruise and then the school year started back up and i have been busy with both work and school. Not to mention that at one point almost half of my chapter got deleted. But nevertheless I worked hard to bring you this chapter. Know that each one of your reviews, favorites and follows still means so much to me and your encouragement has kept me writing as long as I have. Thanks! Thanks!This chapter was hard to write, but I hope your like it. Now happy reads and writes and of course God bless you.

The room spun around and around at a dangerous speed; leaving Prince Thor in a swirling, confusing haze. Everything around him was spinning like a top. Suddenly, his world had boiled down to flashing light, sloshing dark colors, blaring, clattering sounds and pain. Pain. Devastating, crippling pain. The pain was so heavy and intense that he couldn't think straight. Nothing seemed to make sense as the poison's effect sank deeper into the prince's system. His head throbbed as if he'd been pounded upon a rock, and his stomach churned flopped about like putty in a child's hands. Every muscle ached and begged and pleaded for him to stop all activity as if it just wanted to shut down.

His body protested like he had just put his body through a rigorous, laborious training session for the Einherjar boot camp. He remembered those days working out relentlessly in the hot sun. Even with all his skill as a young warrior nothing could ave prepared him for the rigor of that long and brutal year. He'd been exhausted. But this was different, he was merely lying there helplessly, defenselessly in Malekith's flagship in a puddle of puke. He'd never felt such pain in his entire life.

It wasn't merely the pain, but the complete feeling of utter weakness. The thunderer was completely bereft of his strength. Even when Odin had stripped him of Mjolnir it had not been like this. Father had deprived him of his hammer yes and had taken from him the powers of lightening and thunder, but he hadn't left him completely susceptible to the elements. He still had the strength of a normal man. He was still able to walk about and function. Now he was able do nothing, but lie curled up in his own excrement. In all the centuries he'd lived he couldn't recall such a feeling of vulnerability. It was frightening. He felt as faint as a newborn lamb unable to even runaway from the jaws of a predator.

As Thor laid in the filth of his own vomit, the putrid stench of bile, undigested food and stomach juices from his regurgitation filled his nostrils and made him want to retch again. He gagged several times as he lied pitifully on his belly with the left side of his face pressed into the sickening brown, green and yellow mixture of his own excrement. His stomach roiled once more.

His crystal, blue eyes slammed shut as Thor tried to control the pounding in his head. The pain from the poison shot through his body like a lightening bolt causing to quiver and convulse and curl up on himself in the fetal position. While Thor's belly tightened and his breathing grew more and more shallow he became faintly aware of the sounds roaring all around him. He didn't know when, but the Dark-Elf warriors had started to trickle into the command chamber. He heard the ecstatic, frantic cheering of the Dark-Elves. Soon the members of the enemy arm started to into the command chamber. They came in quickly by the tens and by the dozens. They stampeded ass the black floor like a herd raging, wild bulls. They were all charge, rage and fury. As each and every member of the Dark-Elf army piled into the cramped control deck of the ship the started to encircle Thor. The warriors gathered around him like ravenous wolves around the carcass of their prey. They were growling and snarling, licking their hungry chops, blood-lust in their soulless eyes. They circled around him and stared at him mockingly as he laid helplessly at their feet.

Thor managed to finally open his eyes. His vision was blurry, he blinked dolefully and squinted as he tried to make out the forms gathering around him. Thick, black bars wrapped in leather encircled all sides. They caged him in like some wild animal. Thor smacked his lips together as he panted for more air. He tried to look around Their pasty, white faces and coal, black eyes swam in and out of focus. He was able to make out their twisted grins as he listened to their giddy guffaws. "The mighty Thor is our prisoner!" he heard them roar with drunken amusement. "Asgard is as good as ours!" they exclaimed. Through fuzzy vision Thor watched as they raised their armored arms. "He is nothing with out his hammer," they cried as their white fingers pointed down at him like he was some rare specimen on display in the menagerie.

"HUZZAH! HUZZAH!" the Dark-Elves boomed as they broke into a war like dance. Their booted feet rushed in from all sides as doors to Malekith's command center opened up and the chamber was filled with the Elfin warriors. The booted feet surrounded Prince Thor from every angle. They gathered around him, stomping, dancing, hooting and hollering in celebration of how the mighty Asgardian had fallen. The steps to the Dark-Elf war dance were lively and quick. They linked arms with one another and danced around Prince Thor in a circle.

The Dark-Elf warriors jeered and laughed and mocked him viciously as he lied helplessly on the ground convulsing as poison took more and more of its toll on his body. To add to his torment in the midst of their dancing each of Malekith's men would take turns kicking the blonde-haired son of King Odin. Brutally, they kicked at Thor's gut, head and back. Each time their rough boots met with Thor's body they'd elicit a yelp from the warrior prince which only added to their enjoyment and entertainment. They sang a victory chant as the swirled about him, in a blur while they kicked and beat him. The elves victory song was sung in their native language. The language of the Dark-Elves was an ancient and mostly dead tongue. It was spoken low and deep with in the throat and the sound of their chant was so dark and menacing and eerie that it was enough to send a shiver up the war-hardened prince's spine. He shuddered as he tried to decipher their words. He recognized some words that had similar roots to the language of the Light-Elves of Alfheim. Thor now wished that he had invested more time in the study of languages, like Loki had. Although his knowledge was limited he though that he was able to make a few horrible words. Words that sent a feeling of dread sailing into Prince Thor's heart. Words like: Ragnarok, Aether, Asgard, Burn, Darkness.

Thor groaned and grunted with each cruel landing of one foot against his rib cage. He wanted to fight back but resistance proved futile. Every attempt he made to reclaim his magnificent weapon fell flat. The hammer was not at his command. Rather it remained root to the obsidian floor The Dark-Elves saw his feeble efforts and they only mocked him the more for it. His head was spinning and throbbing, his heart pounding against his ribs as the heat of the poison coursed through s veins. Thor felt dizzy and faint as he was forced to watch the Dark-Elves swirl about him in a circular victory dance.

Thor shook himself as the weight of the terrible chant sunk deeper and deeper into his foggy mind. Cold sweat dripped from his brow and ran down his thick neck. His limbs were too shaky and frail to lift a finger in protest or self defense as the Dark-Elves continued to batter him mercilessly. Finally, after what seemed like an interminable amount of time listening to the Dark-Elves revel in the fact that they were about to bring about Ragnarok and return the worlds to a state of perpetual darkness and enslave all of Asgard and any other realm who could survive through Ragnarok, the Crown Prince of Asgard felt the rough hands of his captors that snatched him from the puddle of puke. The golden prince of Asgard was yanked into an upright position on his knees before General Malekith. Two stately Dark-Elf soldiers held fast to Thor's large trembling biceps to keep him from keeling back over. Thor's head lulled back listlessly and his cloudy sky blue eyes rolled about in his head. One of the Dark-Elves holding Thor roughly shoved Prince Thor's head back up only to watch it flop forward so that his chin rested on his chest.

Vomit was caked in his beard and the access excrement dribbled down his chin. A few of the Dark-Elves took full advantage of the prince's incapacitation and rushed landed a few swift blows to his face. The rushed in and took turns punching him repeatedly in the nose and face and stomach. They blackened his beautiful blue eyes and bloodied his nose and lips. Soon a thick and sticky crimson liquid was mixing with the disgusting, green bile in his beard.

Malekith's soldiers would have continued to beat him senseless had it not been for the command of the Dark-Elf general. Malekith raised as strong fist into the air quelling his troops. Slowly, the cheering and jeering began to fall to silent. Thor panted desperately as he tried to catch his breath and gather his wits about him.

Through bleary, bruised, blue eyes Thor beheld a hazy image of Malekith and Loki talking in the center of the commotion and hubbub of celebration of the Dark-Elves. The two of them were walking side by side. The crown prince of Asgard batted his eyes repeatedly. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Perhaps what he saw was wrong. Everything was a blur, it all looked like puffy pastries to him. Thor could barely make out the sight of the Aesir and Dark-Elf from his swollen eyes. He could hardly think straight, let alone see straight.

The blonde haired prince forced to concentrate and try to remember what had led him to this predicament. He'd drunk the poison, taken the deal that Lord Malekith had offered him to save Loki's life. He'd had to do it' even though it was risky. He'd seen Loki tethered and bound to a spiderweb like contraption. Loki had been Malekith's prisoner, he'd seen him being electrocuted and whipped practically to death. He couldn't allow that to happen, no matter what the cost, his little brother's life was worth it. He'd expected that after he'd drunk the poison his brother to be carried out to him bloodied and beaten, unable to stand, just barely alive. What he held had shocked him. As he shivered on his knees Loki strode out proudly, gallantly and unscathed. He didn't understand what happened. He was glad that Loki was unharmed, but he was confused.

Now he was even more befuddled as he gazed upon Loki's exchange with the Dark-Elf general. He couldn't make out the words, but the expression between the was easy and familiar as if they both took some mutual satisfaction in what had happened. They both wore a smug smirks their faces. The ruling general of the Dark-Elves even inclined his head toward Loki. Loki folded his thin arms across his chest contentedly and took in the general's thanks. In horror Prince Thor watched as his reached out and shook hands with the general of Dark Elves. Thor looked on the exchange with disbelief. No, it couldn't be true! Loki couldn't be working with Malekith. No. No! NO! Not after what they'd done. Loki couldn't possibly be willing to align himself with the Dark-Elves! They ransacked the Imperial city, decimated their temples, killed thousands of their people. He'd practically killed Lady Dagmar with his bare hands! Surely, Loki didn't intend to do this. No. He had to have some trick up his sleeve. He was a talented liar, a master of manipulations. Surely, he was using his prowess with deceit to defeat Malekith

Malekith stomped pass Loki, and sauntered over to the Asgardian Prince who couldn't even stand to his own feet. He looked Thor up and down and kept a smugly pleased expression written on his face as he beheld the broken man. Malekith's cold, white hands strapped in leather gripped Thor's face up. Prince Thor did not dignify the Dark-Elf leader with a returned gaze, rather his bloodshot blacked eyes looked pass him to the lanky man standing just a few feet behind the leader.. "l-L-Loki," Thor's hapless lips struggled to whisper.

The dark-haired, once Prince of Asgard stiffened as he heard the bulky, blonde, Viking prince call his name in an earnest and pitiful plea. Loki sucked his teeth, swallowed, clenched his fists and turned his head unable to bear the bewildered look in Thor's trusting black eyes.

Malekith dug his long, black talons into the sides of Thor's beard cheeks. He dragged them down so that they scratched down the side of Thor's chiseled face. The pain of Malekith nails digging into his flesh caused the prince to cry out. "Loki at me, filth!" Malekith demanded. Thor never brought his eyes to meet the warlords evil gaze though. He simply kept his eyes looking at Loki. His breath hitched and his eyes batted fighting to stay awake.

The Dark-Elf leader slapped Thor across the face. He watched s Thor's head swiveled to the side as his blonds strands splatted against his vomit covered beard. With that that Malekith let out a cackle that echoes through his chamber. It was joined by the roar of the men. Malekith once more raised his hands silencing his troops. Brothers!" Malekith began to speak in the language of the Dark-Elves. "For centuries our civilization was the greatest in all the Nine-Realms. With the Aether's power at our side we ruled the other realms with than iron fist," he declared to his men. "None opposed us," he reminded his troops. "And the universe was in its natural state, full of Darkness and Chaos," Malekith paused breathing in the words like fresh air.

"Then a new era came and there was the Light," Malekith seethed. "Some of our kin gave in to the easy ways of the Light," Malekith explained. "They forsook the power of the Aether and abandoned it to study the ways of The Light. So The Light grew and flourished allowing other Realms to thrive. We were driven underground and our task of spreading Darkness and fear throughout the realms became more and more difficult. Our scholars predicted that only during the Convergence when the worlds were open to one another would we once again be free to spread the power of the Aether throughout the realms and rein over the others with an iron fist once more," Malekith recalled as he clenched his fist together. As the years to Convergence grew closer and closer we were able to plunge more realms into the Chaos. Our dark deeds brought us an ally, as many of you may recall, Thanos," the Dark-Elf general reminded his soldiers.

Thor was barely clinging to consciousness when the name of the mad titan from long ago trickled into his ears. It rallied him ever so slightly.. Hadn't Loki mentioned that name? But surely that was impossible. Surely, this Thanos couldn't be the same one who had tortured Loki. Father said that Thanos had been destroyed long before even he was born. But perhaps there were things that even the all-father didn't know. For the all-father didn't know that the Darkness of the Aether had survived this long.

"Our ally, Lord Thanos provided us with all the tools needed to win the war. And then my brothers, you remember the great day of reckoning? Remember the final battle that faced against the forces of Asgard. The only people in the Nine Realms who could keep us from our conquest?" he encouraged his warriors. Grumbles and grunts arose from the crowd of leather glad elves in the command chamber. All of them had been there and all of them remembered that fateful day well. "We were so close," Lord Malekith growled, turning his face away from the soldiers. His blood boiled as he reflected on how he watched the gray sky open up and reveal the realms. He could see them and he would have allowed the Aether to spread to them all had it not been for King Bor of Asgard. His blood boiled and the dark-liquid crystal that had taken residence with in him bubbled making his soulless eyes burn bright red. "But the Asgardians thwarted us!" he spat at the ground next to Thor's trembling knee. He looked at the quivering Aesir Prince. He looked massive and powerful, but had the Dark-Elf soldiers not been holding him up he would have been unable to support himself even on his knees. Malekith purred like a kitten as he watched the Thor's pathetic attempts to break free of their hold or even just lift his own head. He was helpless and at their mercy. "And Bor took away our victory," he declared to his battalion. The elves immediately rallied behind his words. "He stole our Aether," Malekith reminded them as he marched around the circle looking his warriors in their eyes. He looked on each of them with intensity to see if the old hatred and rage and ruthlessness was being rekindled inside their tarred hearts. A smile curled on his white lips as he recognized their emotions. "Took our very life-force," he ranted and pounded his chest. "He and his warriors were the reason why our brothers were slaughtered," Malekith stated as he pounded his fist into his palm. "He is the reason why we had to make the decision to sacrifice our families: our sons and daughters, wives and parents," Malekith reminded them. "He is the reason why our world lies in ruin," he shouted and pointed just outside the window to the barren world of black ash.

The elfin general's speech was followed by the enraged roar of soldiers. They shouted obscenities. The booed and spat and cursed Asgard. They made sure to hurl their insults at the weakened Asgardian in their midst. The leader of the Dark-Elf army allowed his men to jeer and deride and release their millennium of pent up bitterness.

"But," the Dark-Elf warlord interrupted the tirade of his troops. Their shouting was immediately quelled. A wicked smile was displayed on Malekith's bloodless face as he announced, "Convergence has returned!" The battalion when up in shouts of celebration, stomping their feet, pumping their fists and raising the voices in joy for the return of Convergence. Malekith nodded with pleasure as he observed the soldiers ecstasy, "Yes, my brethren, Fate has ordained this as the time fit for our revenge and bring Darkness to the realms and Ragnarok to the door of Asgard," he proclaimed. The general's words were met with thunderous applause, by his troops. "Now, we our once again in possession of the Aether," Malekith continued he heard the exclamatory hoots and whoops of his men. "And once more Fate has provided us with a most worthy ally," Malekith pointed out and he inclined his head toward the thin, dark Aesir man clad in emerald regalia. The ranks of the Dark-Elves applauded wildly for Asgard's ex-prince. "Prince Loki of

"LOKI! LOKI! LOKI!" the dark-elf shoulders shouted their benefactors name over and over again as the raised their fist.

Prince Thor could not believe his ears. He weakly shook his head, "N-n-no," he muttered miserably. Tears began to pool in Thor's swollen, black eyes.

"It was he who aided us in attacking Asgard," Malekith announced to his elves.

Thor shook his head, "No," the eldest son of Odin protested, but his normally boisterous voice was quiet as it trembled.

"And it was he who helped bring the Aether to us," Malekith pointed out only to increase the cheers of the elfin warriors. "And it is he who devised the plan to deliver Prince Thor into our hands," he explained. Pandemonium broke out among the soldiers of Svartalfheim. "Now we have Prince Thor," Malekith began as he looked down at the royal brought to his knees before him. "And we have his hammer," Malekith reminded his troops.

He walked around the hammer it was only inches away from Thor's fingertips, but it might as well have been frozen in an icecap on Jotunheim for all the potential Thor had of lifting it. Malekith's long onyx talons traced around the hilt of the hammer. He felt the fine, heavy metal and the exquisite craftsmanship. The Aether surged with in him, being so close to the powerful relic set the crystal on edge. Malekith whispered ancient words a mantra he had learned long ago to still and control the gem when it felt under attack. "Without Mjolnir even Gungnir shall nor be able to prevail against the might of the Aether," Malekith declared.

"We shall enact our vengeance upon Asgard in a days time!" Malekith proclaimed. "The Asgardians thought they could destroy us, but we shall destroy them!" the leader avowed his troops. With that the general walked over to where Thor was kneeling. He took a heaping handful of Thor's golden locks and twisted it in a knot. Thor cried out as his neck was craned to a wicked angle. "And first we shall start with their most beloved prince" Malekith announced as he twisted Thor's head roughly in the other direction as he displayed Thor before the soldiers.

"Beat 'em!" yelled a group of soldiers they had clubs, taser-whips and their blasters ready to use against the prince.

The blue-eyed prince panted in pain, he gritted his teeth to keep from calling out. "Kill 'em!" called out one of the Dark-Elves who thought that a simple beating was too mild a punishment for the seed of their ancient enemy.

"Aye! Aye!" a few of the soldiers standing by his side echoed liking the suggestion. There were so many ways they could devise to kill him.

"Chop off his head!" demanded a few of the men.

"Chop off his head and put it on the mast of the ship," one more hollered. His comrades seemed to like this suggestion they responded accordingly with hardly 'here-heres' and rowdy 'yah-yahs!"

"We'll sail into Asgard on the day of Convergence with the prince's head on the top of our ship just like a figurehead!" exclaimed some.

The soldiers holding Thor's shaking arms started to laugh at the suggestion. "Oh Aye," the said as they twisted the Asgardian prince's arms behind his back. They did so cruelly so as to dislocate the young viking's shoulders. Thor howled viciously as he felt his shoulder snap. He lurched forward as he screamed. The pain once again causing him to spew all over himself.

"Aye," the other one said as pulled Thor back to an upright sitting position, the prince's body was merely rubber in the hands of his captors, they played and pulled, prodding and yanking him without remorse. "'E's pretty enough to be a blimey mermaid," the elf soldier said mockingly as he stroked Thor's vomit covered chin. Thor kept his eyes lowered as he struggled to stay awake.

The emerald eyed trickster winced at the recommendations of the Dark-Elves. His slender fingers strayed to trace around his own milky white column. The Dark-Elves were barbaric at best. The once prince of Asgard watched as the wheels in the warlord's head turned. The idea of Thor's head posted on a spike and his golden mane flowing in the wind like a glittering blonde flag as the Dark-Elves descended upon the Asgardians to bring Ragnarok on the day of Convergence was quite appealing. Loki felt his chest and throat tighten. He felt his gut clenched. "You are really going to stand here and let them kill him?" a frantic voice from inside himself resurfaced. Loki sunk his front teeth into his t bottom lip causing the pink flesh to disappear. "How can you do this?" the voice asked weakly, its voice a choking sob. Loki felt it rising up inside hi, getting stuck in his on throat. The raven-locked mage slammed his eyes shut, doing his best to silence his mind and filter out the cry of his conscience. He tried to ignore the soft plea. What should he care now. Thor had been a means to an end. He'd always been that. He was too close now. He'd gone through with making a deal with Malekith and he'd gone through with concocting the potion. He'd gone through with luring the blonde oaf here under the false pretense of his own capture. He'd watched Thor ever so naively drink the poison and he'd watched his older brother fall to his knees as it took effect. He would watch as the Dark-Elves unleashed the Aether on the day of Convergence and bring about Ragnarok and ultimately usher Thanos back from the depth of the Abyss where the banished titan had been held at bay for nearly 3000 years. And he would step in and assume his position as rightful king of Asgard. Well, perhaps, he was no longer the rightful king of Asgard, but what did that matter now. He'd take the golden realm, by force.

"He's your brother, how can you just allow him to be killed at the hands of the vagabonds?" the voice asked. It now sounded like a child, lost and confused and frightened.

"he was never my brother!" Loki automatically snapped. He smashed his lips together until they disappeared into nothing, but a line under his narrow nose, in order to make sure that the words were not being spoken out loud.

His sniveling inner self didn't bother to protest his argument, "You have already stolen his powers! You have no honor! You would allow them to kill him when he can't fight back. Cowards the lot of you!" the voice condemned.

Loki's fists clenched at his side. The voice was relentless it was blaring or demanding it was simply an unconquerable nuisance, like a leaky faucet that kept someone up at night, like the buzz of a fly around the ears, like a child tugging on the coattails.

Still earnest plea from the recesses of his heart forced Loki's bright jade eyes to look at Thor. He was red like a beet with fever, yet shivering like a leaf with chills. His red face was drenched in perspiration. Blood was pouring from his nose and lips. His beard and body were covered with vomit. His head sagging to the side unable to support its own weight just like a newborn babe. His blue eyes were blackened. Loki didn't think he'd ever seen Thor look so poor. Something welled up inside him, made his eyes look away and nearly dampen. "All this he did for you," the voice prompted him.

Loki stepped toward the possessor of the Aether and whispered something in his ear. Something that was silver tongued, appealing and convincing. Malekith cast his blackened eyes upon the pal skinned Asgardian and nodded approvingly of the words he had whispered in his ear. "It would prove fruitless to kill him," Loki whispered in the Dark-Elf's white ear.

"Like Helheim, it will," Malekith swore as he pushed pass the Dark-haired mage. Roughly, the Dark-Elf general twisted his shoulder blade from Loki's thin fingers. "I have waited 2000 years to exact the wrath of the Aether upon the house of Bor," Malekith muttered bitterly.

"If you kill him now, the Aesir will simply count him as a martyr and they will simply rally around him memory and try to rise against you," Loki spoke up as he once again gripped up Malekith's shoulder and pulled him toward himself.

The ancient warlord growled and whipped his head around and glowered at the green-eyed trickster. Loki had proven to be a useful ally, but if that wizard sought to deceive him he'd have another thing coming. "What does that matter," the Dark-Elf hissed back without Mjolnir and Gungnir together there is nothing the Asgardians can do to forestall Ragnarok?"

"You're missing the big picture" Loki snapped. His bony porcelain fingers reflexively tightened their grip upon Malekith's shoulder. "The point is there are fates worse than death," he reminded Malekith. "Think of the suffering of you and your troops," Loki offered. "Your suffering came not through death, but through the death of all that you knew and held dear. From the deprivation of your power," Loki expounded.

"Being separated from the Aether," Malekith muttered back.

The once son of Odin's eyebrow raised ever so slightly. Malekith was far from a being of sentiment. The death of his own wife and children meant less to him than the fact that the Aether had been taken from him. "Precisely," the silver-tongued d Asgardian uttered back. "Make Thor suffer as you have suffered, make him dwell on how completely and utterly powerless he actually is," the emerald eyed enchanter coaxed. Malekith's powder-white mouth curved into a subtle smile revealing his sickeningly gray teeth. "Besides," Loki prompted, "what a trophy it would be to have the son of Odin, grandson of Bor as your personal servant for the next thousand years," Loki prompted. General Malekith inhaled and licked his lips as he took in the enchanters words. It was only then that buzz of his armies shouting of more ideas for how they should kill the golden son of Asgard.

"In time, my brethren," Malekith began. He looked down with disgust at the golden locked descendent of Bor. "His head shall roll," he declared He yanked the Crown Prince's head and exposed his frantically bobbing Adam's apple. "But I want the people of Asgard to see him," Malekith rumbled as he started to speak in his native language. "I want them to see him defeated," he pronounced. "I want the Aesir to watch me parade him through the city like a trophy," Malekith went on. "They shall see him writhing, weak and powerless and begging for me to spare his life," Malekith stated. "They will look to their prince as their last hope and when they see that he will not be able to save them they will suffocate in hopelessness," Malekith explained. "We will allow them the privilege of suffering the way our people suffered over 2000 years ago," he expressed as cruel chuckle bubbled forth from his throat. "Our people watched as Bor and the forces of Asgard stole the Aether and robbed us of our glory! Now we shall do the same to them," Malekith announced. "We shall rain Ragnarok down upon their heads and we once again shall rule!" Malekith told his men.

The Dark-Elves went wild with cheers. "MALEKITH! MALEKITH! MALEKITH!" the Dark-Elf soldiers chanted their leader's name."HUZZAH HUZZAH! HUZZAH!" they roared on in unison.

"Ready the vessels!" Malekith ordered his men, "We shall arrive in Asgard at daybreak," he expressed. Immediately the troops started to disperse from the control chamber and assume their post to make ready for the attack.

"Lord Malekith, what shall with do with his Asgardian scum,?' spat one of the guards who had been holding Thor down.

"Take Prince Thor to his new accommodations in the brig," the general sneered as he spoke directly to the guard who were holding Thor in place. He nudged Thor's chin up roughly, Thor's only protest was his harsh breathing. "Make sure that his is kept most uncomfortable," he commanded with a delighted smirk as he pushed Thor's face away from him. Beaten and bloodied he was too disgusting to even look upon.

"You-y-y-you won't get away w-w-ththiz Malekith," Tor slurred as the Dark-Elf guards attempted to hoist him to his feet. But Thor's legs couldn't support hi, he simply collapsed on top of himself.

The warlord snorted, "I already have," he stated not even dignifying the Crown Prince with a final glance.

The elves continued to drag Thor's limp body out of the command chamber. The room was emptied of all the Dark-Elves only one tall lanky figure lingered to watch with amusement as Thor was carried out. That figure marched toward him, shoulders straight and head held high.

"L-l-loki?" Thor muttered deliriously as his sapphire eyes batted rapidly trying to stay open. His neck hurt from the dangerous angle that Loki had snapped it into. Thor looked up into the tainted green gems. There was a malicious type of mischief swirling within Loki's jade pupils. His eyes were wild and manic with a wicked mirth. It was terrifyingly familiar, but his foggy, aching head couldn't quite recall from where he remembered such a sickening and pitiless grin being plastered upon Loki's face, but he did remember it.

Loki's pale fingers twisted through Thor's long, blonde locks. He kept a firm grip on Thor's head not allowing the angle at which he had snapped his neck back to slacken one bit. The Crown Prince shook as the potion took deeper effect as it ran it's course through his system. His eyes feeling weaker and heavier. "Oh Thor, Thor, Thor" Loki tisked as he slapped his brother's bearded cheeks. Thor winced at the impact of the rough hand. "Are you never not going to fall for that?" the traitor mocked.

"Loki, no," Prince Thor moaned weakly as his eyelids drooped. "I...I...I...I" Thor stammered his gold lashes fluttering. "I...I...Idunundersand," he confessed. His words garbled as pain and the need for sleep weighed heavy on him.

Loki offered a mocking lopsided smirk in the direction of the confused prince. "I wouldn't expect you to," he reported. "It's complicated," He offered leaning into Thor's bloodied face.

"Comp-comp-complicated?" Thor struggled with the word as he looked up at Loki with tears streaming down his face. "Loki...why?" he asked.

"Because," Loki punctuated as he nudged up Thor's vomit covered face, "Dear brother," he articulated as he patted and stroked a handful of Thor's sweat saturated blonde locks. "This time," he breathed as he leaned his lips closer to Thor's ear. "I win," he announced in a ruthless whisper as he pushed his one time brother off of him.

Thor's eyes batted rapidly, consciousness leaving him, "Y-y-youwin?" he asked as he faced Loki's back. "W-w-hatt?" he questioned.

Loki's hands were balled into tight fist, he frozen in his tracks, "Yes," he whispered, his voice reverberating with emotion. He bit his lip and fought hard not to let a tear fall. "Shut-him up," the emerald eyed enchanter ordered the Dark-Elves.

Thor wagged his head, lethargically, as the Dark -Elves started to drag his heavy limp body away. "L-L-lo kin-n-n-oooopleezzedundodis," Thor whimpered as he reached out a shaky hand in an effort to clasp Loki's green coattails. His trembling fingers just barely brushed against the smooth velvet of Loki's garment before he felt something hard as a rock thunk against his head. Then everything went black.


Night had fallen on the Dark-World. Night time in the Dark-World was a most foreboding thing. It was pitch black outside of the cave where Asgard's forces had taken refuge. There was no moon to, nor were there any stars to be seen in the Dark-World; they were blotted out by low hanging, opaque clouds and vicious, swirling ebony sands. If it wouldn't have been for the faint glow of the cave fire the young soldiers wouldn't have been able to see their hands waving in front of their faces; let alone detect the Crown Prince of Asgard strolling up the path.

"Don't you think Prince Thor should have been back by now?" muttered the one soldier to another. The two soldiers were posted by the mouth of the cave, standing watch while the rest of the troops were assembled around the small fire in the back of the cave. Both young warriors had been very diligent and resolute in their watch for the son of Odin. They'd been keeping watch for hours, earnestly looking out into the bleak landscape of Svartalfhiem, ever keeping a sharp-eye from Prince Thor's triumphant return with the criminal, Loki. Truth be told both Einherjar thought that Prince Thor had given that snaked-skinned trickster better than he deserved by even trusting him to come along on this venture, let alone to go out and actually attempt to rescue him. Prince Thor was as powerful in battle as he was noble of spirit. Surely, such virtue ha to be rewarded with a victory. The Norns would take note of the brave prince's determination and sacrifice to save his wayward, treacherous brother and they would weave victory into their futures. With that in mind, all were confident that Prince Thor would be back in no time. The watchmen were disheartened to report that there was no sign of Prince Thor.

"It's been too long," Lady Sif mumbled from her position on the wall. She responded before the other guard standing watch had a chance to. Her sultry voice startled the soldiers who'd been keeping watch. They hadn't realized she'd been standing so close. She'd been leaning against the cave wall for sometime. Although she hadn't been assigned the task to keep watch, she wanted to. She hadn't been able to sit and eat with the rest of the Einherjar. She wasn't hungry. She was beside herself with worry for Thor. Beside they were down to the end of the rations, it seemed best to save the little food they had for the weakened among them. "It's been way too long." she repeated with agitation as she drummed her fingers along the stone wall and shook her head.

"I thought that Thor said it was only supposed to take a half of a days time to get to Ichabod," Volstagg pointed out as he scraped the bottom barrel of their rations and ladled another spoonful into his small wooden bowl as he overheard Sif's conversation. He looked sorrowfully at his bowl. He'd managed to plop one last dollop of stew into his bowl. His stomach growled as he looked at the meager ration. It was all that was left, but it wasn't nearly enough for the burly, bearded member of the Warriors Three.

"No," Sif corrected him sharply as she stomped toward the Einherjar who were all huddled around the fire trying to savor the last of their provision. "Loki said that," she pointed out as she banged her fist against the cave wall. "Thor just believed it," Sif expressed bitterly to all the Einherjar huddled around the small fire.

"What are you trying to say, Sif" muttered Frandal as he looked up at Lady Sif as he sharpened the edges of his sword on the flint rocks.

Mahogany colored eyes rolled into the back of Lady Sif's head. "That Loki lied," the warrior woman spat bluntly. "That he made the whole thing up!"

Whispers broke out amongst the ranks of the Einherjar assembled around the fire. "Stop it, Sif!" Frandal stated slowly as he looked up at her and stopped sharpening his sword. "We have no reason to jump to conclusions," he corrected her.

"No reason to..." Sif bit her lip trying to control her anger, "Jump to conclusions," she whispered. Her hands were shaking furiously at her side. "Do you hear yourself?" she asked a bewildered and slightly perturbed expression was written plainly on the shield-maiden's face. "Frandal, did you forget who we are talking about?" she accused once she was in Frandal's face. "You know as well as I do what Loki is! You know he's nothing more than a liar," Lady Sif pointed out. "Always has been, always will be!" Sif confirmed. "He can never be trusted!" she swore.

"Oh come off of it, Sif," the blonde-haired swordsman flagged off the female warrior. "Loki maybe a liar but what you're suggesting is...is...is something else entirely."

"Something else entirely?" Sif scoffed, "Something else entirely? How so? Have you forgotten what he has done? All the crimes he has committed? Have you forgotten how he let the Frost Giants into Asgard or how he usurped the throne from Thor.? Or maybe how he attacked Midgard?" she pointed out as she placed her hands on her hips and gestured wildly.

"Calm down, Lady Sif, you can look on the map and see that Ichabod is about half a days travel from here," Volstagg reported he held up the chart and showed it to Lady Sif. "he wasn't lying about that," the plump Viking explained.

Sif snatched the chart from Volstagg's chubby hands. "These charts are ancient!" she railed as she waved them violently at the plump warriors face. "Besides," the brunette warrior woman stated as she panted from frustration at the very fact that her friends would dare try to defend a scoundrel such as Loki. "Even if Ichabod is only a half a days journey from the plain that doesn't mean that that is where Malekith would have taken his troops to regroup," she pointed out. "Malekith could have taken his troops anywhere, they could have fled to the mountains," she continued as she pointed to another region on the chart. "They could have gone back to Asgard! They could be laying siege to her as we speak!" the shield-maiden ranted.

"I highly doubt that, Lady Sif," interjected another Einherjar captain. "Strategically, it makes the most sense for Malekith to have regrouped at Ichabod, he was injured himself and so were many of his men. Also, Malekith is most likely still under the impression that the Kursed is still alive. The Kursed is their most fame warrior. He would want him on the day of Convergence and would most likely wait for him to rendezvous with the arm before thinking of striking Asgard. Since Ichabod is so close by that would most be the rendezvous point," explained one of the more seasoned Einherjar. He was a solider by the name of Frell.

Captain Frell had been one of Odin's close comrades during his early days of training in Einherjar boot camp. He was an excellent military strategist and had been very influential in helping the warrior of Asgard gain a foothold into the heart of the Sacred City of Jotunheim.

"Strategy or no, I don't trust it," Lady Sif declared as she unsheathed her double blade and jammed it into the rocky ground of the cave. "Thor should have been back by now," she grumbled.

"I agree," Frandal admitted as he let out a pent up sigh. "Thor should have been back by now," the golden-locked swordsman confirmed as he rolled his eye toward the mouth of the cave. He squinted at the horizon hoping to make out a man's figure being formed in the shifting sand, but all the while he knew he wouldn't find it. "But just because he hasn't returned doesn't mean that there is some deception or mischief going on, Sif."

"Of course there is!" Sif turned on her heels and spat at Frandal "Loki is involved," she hissed. The mention of the trickster's name made her blood boil. "I never should have let Thor go," she muttered to herself as she started to wring her hands.

"There was nothing you could do, Lady Sif, Thor had his mind made up," Volstagg offered as he shoved a heaping helping of the last of the rations of stew into his mouth. He quickly wiped his mouth before dusting off his hands on his pants and crossing over to stand beside Lady Sif. He rested his fat and greasy fingers on Sif's narrow shoulders. "It was Thor's choice to go," the large Viking stated a few crumbs flew from his mouth and brushed against Sif's ear. "He knew the risk and was still willing to take it."

"Besides, Sif, you don't know what happened," Frandal continued to argue. "There could be any number of reasons why Thor has not returned yet," the golden locked swashbuckler stated as he once more started to sharpen his blade with the flint rocks. Frandal kept his eyes and voice lowered as he spoke though.

"He could have been caught in a sandstorm," interjected an Einherjar lieutenant who was seated around the fire.

"Sandstorm my foot," Sif protested she hocked a nasty wad off saliva toward the ground before stomping it under her boot. "If you believe that you're a fool!" Sif spat "Do you honestly think a sandstorm could keep Prince Thor from returning to us?' she demanded of her comrades as she threw her arms out wildly. "Something is wrong, I just know it," Lady Sif swore to herself as she looked down.

"You don't suppose anything really bad happened to Thor, do you?" Lady Jane Foster asked as her hazel eyes darted up from staring into her mug full of warm broth. Her wide eyes looked back and forth between Frandal and Volstagg. She put the warm mug between her knees and wrapped her arms tighter around herself and pulled the shawl she had draped over her shoulders up around her neck..

Glances were exchanged between the two warriors. Both of their expressions were pensive. Neither Frandal or Volstagg could bring themselves to say anything. The scientist noticed the worried looks on the faces of Thor's friends.

"Now look at what you've done, Sif" Frandal gave a harsh whisper and narrowed his dark blue eyes toward her. "You are worrying Lady Jane," he pointed out as he inclined his head in the auburn haired astrophysicist's direction. Lady Sif was sorely tempted to roll her eyes at Frandal's remark as she looked at Lady Jane. Jane, who was small and weak looking, who wasn't nearly as lovely or as powerful as so many women of Asgard and yet she was the woman Thor had chosen.

It made Sif's gut tighten to think about Thor's rejection. She glanced at the frail, mortal woman again, she saw tears glistening in her hazel eyes, her brow knit with worry, her teeth pressed into her bottom lip to the point where it looked like the lip would bleed. Sif sighed despite of herself, she wished that she could console herself with the thought that even though Thor had chosen to bestow his love upon a mortal that his human lover did not requite his feelings, but alas all the love and care was plainly written upon Jane Foster's pretty, dirty face. Sif turned her head from Jane.

Before the scientist could inquire further about Thor or even allow one tear to trickle down her smudged cheeks she felt Volstagg wrapped his big, hairy, red arms around her slender shoulders. He immediately went from comforting Sif to rushing to Lady Jane. He scooted his bulking body back into his seat upon a rock next to Jane. "There, there, Lady Jane," the plump Viking said tenderly. He let out a jaunty laugh and gave her shoulders a shake as he did so. "Never fear, never fear," he spoke kindly as he wiped the back of his ruddy hand on his red beard, "One thing that you must know about Prince Thor is that he's never bested," Volstagg assured her. He tightened his hold on her shoulders. "Never beaten, never defeated," Volstagg explained as he counted on his plump fingers. "And he never gives up," Volstagg encouraged and gave the auburn haired Midgardian a wink. His gesture caused a subtle smile to appear of Lady Jane's face. "He'll fight til his dying breath, rather than surrender," the Viking soldier proclaimed. It was Frandal who gave him a quick jab to the ribs for his clumsy comment. "I...I...I" the red, hairy warrior fumbled. "Not that he'll need to fight to the death, mind you," he qualified and gave a cheesy grin. "Aye," Volstagg nodded as he ran his fat fingers through his curly, red beard. "This is not even the worse situation, Thor has even been in," he began.

"it's not," the female scientist asked as she looked up at the jovial, red warrior.

"It isn't?" Hogun questioned quietly.

Volstagg slapped his knee and roared with laughter. "By all mean no," he replied still laughing. "let me tell you we have been in plenty worse scrapes than this," he pointed out.

"You have?" Jane asked.

"We have?' inquired Frandal as he arched his golden brows.

"Of course we have!" Volstagg jeered. "Why don't remember the time in Muselpehim?" he started. "Oh now they were some nasty knaves, let me tell you," Volstagg went on nodding. He rolled his eyes toward Frandal and gestured with his hands for the swashbuckler to interject as well.

"Oh yes!" the greatest swordsman in Asgard piggybacked the plump warrior. "Their leader, Surtur," Frandal began while he wiped his brow, "he was about twenty-times more fearsome than Malekith," he exaggerated.

'really?" Jane inquired with a quirked her eyebrow in disbelief.

"Absolutely!" Volstagg exclaimed and gestured wildly with his hands, "And the army, why they were the most dangerous men we'd ever confronted. Wouldn't you say, Hogun?"

The quiet warrior nodded, "they were made of fire," he expressed with a slight smirk. Volstagg went on and on telling the tale of a great battle from long ago. He was wild and elaborate in his story telling. He seemed to remember every detail so vividly that for a moment Jane and the rest of the company were able to forget that they were in a cave in Svartalfhiem fighting for the very existence of the realms.

"Ah, yes," Volstagg said as he leaned back and rested his redhead on the wall of the cave. "Now tat was quite a battle," he reflected. "If Thor could get us out of a situation like that, this is nothing, but a piece of cake to him, let me tell you," the rotund Viking warned. His words made the female scientist laugh. "Aye," Volstagg said as he smacked his lips like he he had just finished a hearty meal. He ate up the laughter of other the way he ate up a leg of lamb. "You'll see now," he said waving his hand as he leaned his head back so that it was resting on the wall of the cave. "Any minute now, Thor will come waltzing back in here, a few battle scars, mind you, but no worse for the wear," Volstagg chuckled. "You'll see, you'll see," the red-head Viking wagged his pudgy finger. "He'll come charging in here with with Loki in tow, too," Volstagg said. "Then we'll all go back to Asgard," Volstagg reported. Volstagg leaned back and crossed his legs. He started to relax his foot as he closed his eyes. "Yes, Lady Jane you will see any minute now," Volstagg gave her a wink before he shut his eyes.

Jane Foster smiled at the red-bearded Einherjar. She was thankful to him for his attempts to console her. His story about Thor had brightened her heart a bit, it almost made her think that Thor would just come strolling back in the cave any minute. She could just picture it: He'd be carrying a beaten and bruised Loki on his shoulder. The men would stand up and cheer, she'd rush from her seat and throw herself into his arms. He'd hug her, but his attention would be on Loki. He'd make sure he got settled and tended to and seeing his tender care of his brother would somehow make her become even more enthralled with him. Once he'd secured his brother, she'd drench him with kisses because she was so grateful to see him back in the cave alive and well.

The smile lingered on her lips for a little while, but slowly dissipated as new thoughts flooded her mind. She thought of the battle; she replayed the battle in the Dark-World. She'd stood helplessly like a sitting duck as war waged on all around her. She'd had a front row seat to watching so many of the men become dreadfully injured or perish. She'd done nothing to help anyone. Jane instantly remembered being struck with horror as that grotesque horned beast pounded boulder like fist after clubbed, boulder-like first into Thor. He would have pummeled him for sure. If it hadn't been for Loki's swift thinking and mystical slight of hand Thor would have been another casualty.

She thought of Thor heading out into the dark of night in search of his brother. Thor was still weak. Could her really be alright like Volstagg claimed. What if Lady Sif was right? What if something had gone wrong?

Lady Jane's attention was called out of her fearful thoughts as she started to hear more talk among the men. Volstagg's story had gotten them all thinking about the many glorious battles that Prince Thor had led them through, the many victories they'd won. Soon more and more of the soldiers were sharing old war stories. Before long, the dank, dark cave in Svartalfheim was filled with laughter. It was the first time Jane could recall hearing such melodious sounds since they'd been taken to the harsh and hideous land. The chuckles of the small battalion were far more pleasant than the moans and groans and coughs and screamed of the sick and injured warriors.

Volstagg's testimony was so convincing that for a moment everyone took heart in his words. Soon they went about the rest of their duties, confidant that Prince Thor was just around the corner. Some of the men broke down the crates and barrels that were empty of supplies and food and used it as kindling for the fire. Others scraped the tiny morsels of food that they had left into one barrel to consolidate the food supply. They beat the sand and black ash from their then mesh blankets and they tended to their wounded. They packed what little they had left in preparation to leave this dreadful world and return to Asgard by morning.

Jane tried to busy herself by helping roll out the sleeping cots. The soldiers begged her not to do such menial tasks for them. They were all used to doing such for themselves. An Einherjar's life was not one one of pamper and ease on the battlefield, they were expected to know how to be completely self sufficient from taking care of the domestic work in the camp or barracks to foraging for food or building weapons from natural materials. So her help with such a simple chore was unnecessary, but Jane heeded them not and did it anyway. She wanted to do something show her gratitude for the soldiers who were risking everything to save her life, her world and all the worlds, really. She couldn't fight along side them and she couldn't offer much scientific advise in this matter. The least she could do was unroll sleeping mats, Besides, it kept her mind off of being completely consumed with being worried for Thor. As the Midgardian maiden set up the mats and blankets in the back of the cave she was able to overhear some of the conversation going on amongst the men who were still gathered around the fire. "what if something really did happen to Prince Thor?" posed one of the young Einherjar recruits. "What if he really is lost in a sandstorm? Or worse, what if he was captured by the Dark-Elves?" The young soldier expressed in a nervous whisper.

"Be quiet, Aryk!" scolded a grizzled veteran Einherjar who had his right arm bound in a sling. "Don't talk like that," he hushed. "Shouldn't say such things,' the elder warrior corrected. "Prince Thor will return to us, you'll see lad," the older warrior encouraged as he clapped his hand on the strapping back. He offered a smile to the recruit.

"I don't think that what we need to be worried about is what happened to Prince Thor," stated one Einherjar. He had a long mustache that dangled off of his lips and was platted. He had a distinct accent that was from the Eastern Isles.

"Lord Burhlhows, what are you saying?' questioned young Aryk. "if something has happened to Prince Thor then we should..."

"What I'm saying boy," the Einherjar from the Eastern Isle started as he played with the plats of his mustache. "is that it doesn't matter what has happened to Prince Thor, but what is most important now is making a plan of action for if Prince Thor doesn't return by sunrise," he mentioned.

"Don't see any other course of action that we could take, save to go looking for our prince," the youth stated. "We can't just leave Prince Thor out there," he pointed out bravely.

"Why absolutely not!" roared one Einherjar soldier as he swaggered back to the fire from making up his cot. He had a mug in his hand filled with mead. They'd run out of water about a day ago and now only had a tankard of mead left. They'd gone through the rations of water more quickly than they'd anticipate due to the severe wounds that so many of the soldiers in the battalion sustained. So now all that was left to drink was mead. But strong drink proved less than satisfying in the harsh conditions of the Dark-World where the weather was hot and dry with out even the tiniest hit on moisture in the atmosphere. He stumbled toward the other soldiers and plopped down on a rock for a minute. "We have to do something!" one man stood up and declared throw his tin cup down, full of mead to the ground.

"Euclid is right," Sif stated as she stood up opposite the other soldiers and pointed to the tipsy warrior. "We should go out there and look for him!" Sif nearly ordered as she pointed to the pitch-black world just beyond the mouth of the cave.

"Sif, don't be rash," Frandal chided her, "We all want to find Thor, but I don't think all of us going out and looking for him is the answer," the blonde responded.

"And what is? Sitting around a campfire debating?" the female Einherjar remarked back.
"Thor gave orders as to what to do if he did not return," explained Hogun. His deep voice was gravelly and hoarse sounding from a lack of use.

The swordsman looked up at Hogun. He hadn't wanted to say it so bluntly, but he knew his quiet friend was never one to shy away from being frank. Frandal's shoulders slumped as he blew out an exasperated breath. "Hogun is right," he replied slowly, "We all heard Prince Thor's words," he began again, "And if he doesn't return by morning..." Frandal's voice trailed off. He bit into his lip. The normally bold, dashing and talkative swordsman suddenly fell silent. "Well...we are to head back to Asgard," he reminded the battalion.

Lady Sif stood to her feet and tossed the tin cup ff mead that she was drinking toward the burning fire. She spewed out the sweet tasting mead onto the floor. "Frandal, you can't be serious!" she fussed as she roughly wiped the back of her hand across her lips to remove the excess mead from her mouth.

"Sif, please," Frandal started defensively as he raised his hands in the air in a form of surrender. The hour was late, his belly was empty because he'd given the last of his food to Volstagg who was begging like a dog for any crumb off of someones' plate. "You know as well as I do that those were Thor's instructions," Frandal insisted.

"Yes, and never once did I have any intention of obeying them," she protested. "We cannot simply leave him out there!" Sif fumed as she pointed out the mouth of the cave into the black night where no moon shone and the winds howled like bloodhounds and the shifting black ash blew unseen with the fury of a tempest.

"Sif, those were final Thor words to us," Frandal shouted as he stood to his feet. He was finding standing toe to toe with the shield-maiden. Both of them stood in a stalemate staring defiantly at one another not batting an eyelash. The tension between the two warriors was thick and hot. Lady Sif was starting to growl like an angry cornered cat and her grimy, calloused hands were beginning to stray toward the hilt of her double bladed spear. The claws were about to come out. "You cannot just ignore them," Frandal protested.

In a quick flash the shield-maiden had drawn her double blade and had one edge of the blade point at Frandal's neck. "Like Hel, I can't!" she raged. "And you would to if you cared a thing for Thor!" the brunette warrior woman yelled.

"How dare you!" Frandal barked back. His face turned bright red and Frandal who was always known as pleasant and merry drew his sword in anger ready the challenge the female Einherjar.

"Calm down, you two," Volstagg spoke up as he tried to quell his two friends. He allowed his fat hand to cup over Lady Sif's. The brunette warrior woman gritted her teeth and swallowed hard slowly she managed to pluck her fingers away from the weapon long enough to drop. He double blade fell to the ground with a clatter, but Sif's mahogany eyes didn't flinch from staring defiantly at Frandal.

It was Frandal who broke the stalemate of stares. He shook his head and quickly sheathed his gleaming blade. "Look, Sif those were Thor's words not mine," he explained as he pointed to himself. "Those were his commands. This is what he wants us to do," he expressed his voice falling softer and softer with every word he spoke. He slide a sweat-slick hand through his golden hair as he glanced down, "And we agreed." He looked back up, first at those soldiers still seated around the fire then at Lady Sif. "We all did," he stated slowly, "As Einherjar it is our solemn oath to obey the expressed commands of our king. While Odin lies in Oversleep Thor is our king and we must obey his commands as such," Frandal reminded them all.

The shield-maiden yanked her hand out from under Volstagg, she turned sharply ready to march away from Frandal. Curse him and his practical talk of duty. Duty and vows and oaths were nothing at a time like this. Not at a time when everything was at stake. As she started to skulk away, she felt strong, firm hands place a hold on her shoulders once more. Lady Sif snarled. She was tired of being manhandled by Volstagg. She geared up her fist she was ready to punch the ruddy Viking clear in the throat. But when she turned with her fist aimed she found herself looking at Hogun's sober face. His expression grim, grave and stern as ever. Sif watched the slow rise and fall of his chest and the subtle flair of his nostrils as he breathed deeply, calmly. Somehow, Sif's breathing started to settle to match his. "he is right and you know it," he spoke. "You gave an oath, Lady Sif," he reminded her.

Sif could feel that his palms were ever so slightly vibrating against the flesh of her bronzed and scarred shoulders. She felt the weight of his upper body come down on her as he sighed. The female Einherjar mashed her lips together as she tore her shoulder from beneath his grasp and turned around to face him her warm brown eyes glaring daggers into Hogun's onyx pupils."Curse that oath!" the female warrior hollered in Hogun's face. The stoic almond eyed warrior did not flicker as eyelash nor waver in his stance. He kept his gaze straight on her. Sif's breathing grew ragged again. Liquid welled in the shield-maiden's dark, brown eyes, "And as Prince Thor's friends are we just supposed to to abandon him this wasteland?' Sif countered her voice trembled with anger at the very thought.

"We have to go back," Hogun stated.

"NO!" Lady Sif turned around and shouted. "Not without Thor!" the brunette shield-maiden shouted in the almond eyed warriors face.

"By morning we must return, with or without Prince Thor. There is only a day until Convergence and the Dark-Elves have the Aether and they will waste no time in returning to Asgard, laying waste to her, unleashing the Aether and raising Ragnarok. We must go back to Asgard to fight with the rest of the Einherjar and defend Asgard," Volstagg explained.

"And what difference do you think we will make with out Thor there, hmm?" Sif countered as she jutted out her chin defiantly at the red-bearded Einherjar. "Without Mjolnir and Gungnir's power combined no weapon will be able to defeat the Aether. And there is no one else who can wield Mjolnir save for Thor!" she reminded the all. "We need him, all of Asgard needs him," she protested. "If there is even a prayer of Ragnarok being stopped then Thor must fight with us!"

"It was Thor's call. He knew that Mojlnir was needed to defeat the Dark-Elves, but he also knew we have a better chance of overcoming the Dark-Elves from Asgard than we do here," Volstagg responded. "With or without Mjolnir."

"No!" Sif shook her head and shut her chestnut brown eyes refusing to heed the logic of her rotund friend. "Thor is rash," Sif rationalized. "He doesn't always think his plans through especially, in the heat of battle and you all know it," Sif pointed to the warriors three. None of Prince Thor's boon companions could deny it. Thor had a go, go, go mentality. He was an excellent warrior and a brave leader, but often times he looked at a battle in the moment and didn't look at it from the picture. He fought one battle at a time but didn't prepare a strategy that could sustain the troops through a war. "He is always willing to sacrifice himself, he has no thought of self preservation," she muttered. That was one of the things that Sif loved about him. There were some men that were cowards, they'd do what ever it took to save their own skin. Thor was the complete opposite, he'd take no thought for his own life if it meant the rescue of a friend, the winning of a battle or the accomplishing of any goal he'd set his mind to. He was relentless. "No," Lady Sif stated more forcefully, she stomped a booted foot and lifted up her eyes. She swung her head slowly back and forth so that she could look the few soldiers that they had left in the eyes. "we are not leaving the Dark-World without him," the warrior woman protested. "We can go out and look for him," she continued to insist, but the resolve in her voice was becoming weaker and weaker. She knew as a warrior of Asgard she was supposed to obey her prince's commands. As a faithful Einherjar she had always followed orders. She knew that in this dire hour Asgard needed her, Asgard needed every sword and blade they could come by, but she couldn't shake the sinking suspicion that gnawed at her gut telling her that Thor needed her too. "There is still time!"

"Generals, if I may speak," interrupted Captain Frell.

"Speak freely, Captain Frell," encouraged Volstagg as he waved a gracious round hand.

The older captain nodded gratefully toward one of the members of the famous Warriors Three, "With all due respect Lady Sif," the veteran said as he saluted the young shield-maiden. "I want nothing more than to go and look for Prince Thor, but logically speaking it is a move in poor taste. "We don't have enough rations for even one more day," he pointed out.

"Captain Frell is right!" Volstagg echoed immediately. "We have have only a few cups full of cornmeal and we are completely out of water," Volstagg chimed in with a panic as he looked at the barrels of supplies that were all completely low. "We are down to our last!"

Lady Sif let out a growl, the kind that was enough to make Volstagg take a slow step back away from the barrel of broth that he was so protectively guarding. "Of course all you would be able to think about is food at a time like this," Sif spat as she rolled her deep mahogany eyes. "Thor's life could be in danger, he could be buried to is neck in black sand or lying face down in a ditch somewhere! He-he-he," Sif stammered with emotion. Liquid started to form in her rich brown eyes, "He could be fighting off the Dark-Elves singlehanded right now trying to save that snake in the grass, Loki," Sif said as her lip twisted upon speak the name of the former prince of Asgard. "But all you can think about is how to feed that gut of yours!" Lady Sif accused as she slapped Volstagg's great big belly. She watched as the red-bearded ax wielder gasped and brought his hand to his heart. "The Aether is in the possession of Malekith, Convergence comes to us in a days time and our Prince Thor is nowhere to be found, but Norns forbid that you are asked to go without a meal! Ragnarok is free to come so long as there is a thick and juicy steak on your plate!" Lady Sif hissed.

"I've had just about enough of you," Volstagg responded sternly, his face was as red as his beard. He pointed a scolding red-knuckled sausage finger in his face.

Instantly, the dark-haired warrior woman smacked her chubby friend's hand from her face. "Too bad you haven't had enough of venison stew yet," Sif cocked her head toward the empty barrels. "Then maybe we wouldn't have run out of rations so quickly," she added with a sarcastic grin on her face. "You ate the rations allotted for two men rations night!"

Volstagg gasped. "Now those are just lies!" he stated.

"Are they?" lady Sif crossed her arms.

'Yes," Volstagg immediately defended hims. 'I was injured and needed food in order to heal properly' the chubby soldier explained. "I speak on behalf of everyone, Sif not just myself," Volstagg confirmed as he straightened his collar. "We don't have enough food to sustain the troops. Nor do we have any water. In these conditions the men won't last with just mead to drink."

"Think of our wounded, Sif," Frandal entreated the warrior woman as he glanced over his shoulder at the men who lied shivering and moaning under their pelts. "They need fresh water not only to drink, but to clean and dress their wounds."

The dark-haired woman bit her lip as she forced herself to look beyond the fire and to the injured soldiers. They had set out on this venture with 50 able-bodied Einherjar, but 10 had been slain and 15 were incapacitated and crippled from the battle. Her heart crumpled as she watched the Midgardian scientist dutifully fluff their pillows and change their bandages. Now, that she knew how, Jane had become fairly quick at it. She overheard the wounded warriors pleading with the auburn haired Astrophysicist to give them just a sip of water. She watched as Lady Jane shook her head, forced to tell the men that there was no more water. Jane offered the a cup of mead, but mead was useless in quenching a parched tongue or helping to bring down a fever all though it kept the sick in good spirits. She hated to think of seeing the men succumb to dying of dehydration when they had survived the attack on Asgard and survived the battle with the Dark-Elves. They deserved better than a shameful death with dehydration. They deserved to either live to die another day or to die fighting not die helpless and shivering like sniveling children. "We could allow our injured men to return to Asgard," she concluded. On Asgard such wounds would be easily patched up and tended to by many healers. The men would be strong enough in a day to fight again.

"And what about the rest of us? We all will need water and food if we are going to be strong enough to cross the desert and rescue Thor and Loki and possibly fight against the Dark-Elves," Volstagg spoke up.

"We don't have the numbers to fight against the Dark-Elves," the swashbuckler responded. "The Dark-Elves will tear through this many soldiers like paper with the Aether on their side."
"Then we can go back to Asgard and rally more troops," Lady Sif persisted. "We can go back and get the rest of the Einherjar, we can get the Valkyrie and the navy and the militia, bring them back here and fight Dark-Elves tooth and nail!" she declared. "If we keep the fighting here then Asgard will be safe," she insisted.

Frandal shook his head. "Malekith is too cunning of a warrior to fall for a trick like that," he informed Lady Sif. "He has waited thousands of years for this day. Do you think he would even bother fighting with us once Convergence comes?"Frandal questioned. He didn't give his fellow Einherjar a chance to answer back, No," he immediately confirmed. "He will go to Asgard so that when the worlds align he can unleash the Aether and watch the darkness spread through the branches of Yggdrasil like a virus!" Frandal ranted. "No, Sif" he shook his head in protest. "I'm afraid this plan of your would leave Asgard and all the Nine_Realms defenseless."

"And your cowardice leaves Thor defenseless!" Sif attacked. Her dark brown eyes were wide with fury as she directed her attention at the flirtatious warrior.

"My cowardice!" Frandal balked at the accusation.

"Yes, your cowardice! You are trying to run away and save your own skin!"

"I am thinking of the greater good for Asgard and for the Nine-realms," Frandal professed.

"I don't see how any of this is in the best interest of the Nine-Realms. In leaving Prince Thor out here we are truly leaving all the realms exposed. We are condemning all the realms to death," she continued to argue.

"Maybe death is inevitable now," murmured one of the soldiers.

"Malekith has the Aether and Convergence is less than a day away, Prince Thor is nowhere to be found," another mumbled. "maybe there is no escape. Maybe we can't avoid Ragnarok, just as the prophecies have said."

"Belay that!" lady Sif shouted into the soldiers face. "I don't believe that," she continued. "And neither should any of you," she admonished them. She looked out into the faces of the Einherjar who had so boldly chosen to fight along side Prince Thor in this battle for their very existence. She couldn't believe the talk she was hearing. Such defeatist words did not belong amongst warriors of Asgard. More than anything Sif despised cowardliness.

She looked amongst the crowd. Her senses sharp as a bloodhounds ready to sniff out any trace of fear in the ranks. Fear caused dissension and dissension could be the difference between victory and defeat. Sif set her eyes as sharp as an eagles. Her brown pupils scrutinized each and every, soldier and officer man and youth. She was precise in her detection of even the slightest twitch that might reveal, reservation or hesitation in an Einherjar warrior. Although she was poised to strike and point out those among them who were too fearful for this important fight, she was disheartened to find that there wasn't a man among the party who she could rightfully accuse.

Even though she had accused Frandal she'd known it wasn't true. She'd fought by his side too many times and she'd known him for too long and all too well to truly think of him as a coward. Perhaps she should have apologized for such a terrible accusation, but the shield-maiden was too proud to ever say that she was sorry more or less that she was wrong. It was something that she had learned in her time with the Valkyrie. Men expected women to be obedient, subservient and submissive a Valkyrie never bowed to the whims of men save for her king. She never stroked the ego of a man and an apology was too much of an ego boost. Besides, she knew that none of the warriors considered Frandal a coward.

Still, Lady Sif continued to observe the men, if it wasn't fear in their eyes than what was it? Her gaze narrowed. Her brow furrowed and her lips formed a severe found as she studied them. Then she saw it. She noticed it first on Volstagg, the plump Viking always wore his emotions out on his sleeves. His normally mirthful eyes held a sad gaze. It wasn't simply sorrow. It was resignation, defeat and worry.

She looked amongst the men and noted the same look was in each of their eyes. To varying degrees, but the emotions were there none the less. Even Hogun, the staunch, reserved and even tempered Hogun showed such signs of despair. Sif's breath hitched. She wanted to yell at the men. Tell them to take heart and to believe and to fight until their last breath. But Lady Sif was no orator in fact she had never succeeded in her rhetoric courses. She was not eloquent of tongue, but eloquent of blade and she let her sword do the talking. "If it is our fate to die I'd rather die fighting by my prince's side than cowering waiting for the Dark-Elves to rain Ragnarok down on our heads!" she announced to the troops.

"Perhaps that is how you would like to die Lady Sif, but not I," stated Captain Frell, his voice fell low as he slowly raised his head to look at the proud female warrior. "If it is truly the end of days than I would like to spend the final hours before Ragnarok engulfs us all with my family. I'd like to see my wife and children and grandchildren one last time before the end," he confessed. The elder Einherjar closed his eyes, he expected to hear some sort of chiding or protesting from his much younger comrades. He knew that such a peaceful ending was not what one who bore the seal of Einherjar should long for, but he was older. In human years he was nearly 70 and he didn't possess the same vim and vigor for war that he had in his youth. He wasn't afraid to fight, nor was he afraid to give his life in combat, but he'd come to understand the beauty of a life of peace with the ones that he loved. It had taken him nearly a lifetime to learn that and he could respect if the young soldiers hadn't grasped that truth yet.

Captain Frell was somewhat shocked with he heard the murmurs and mumbles of the small battalion not rallying against him in condemnation, but rather in agreement."Aye and me too," chimed in young Aryk. Aryk was a tall young man who stood to the height of nearly 6'5. he had the excellent build for a soldier. He had platinum blonde hair and an accent that denoted that he was from the High Mountains. He had a country demeanor and a baby face. "I would like to see my mother again," the young Einherjar expressed. His tall shoulders fell with his lament. "Poor Mama," the youth muttered. "She didn't even know I left with Prince Thor. I've been away from home so long," he began to explain. Once he had the opportunity to become an Einherjar he had quickly hightailed it away from his small mountain village where his family had worked and lived for generation. Being an Einherjar had afforded him the opportunity to see all the beauty of Asgard from the glittering jewel watered coast to the breathtaking jungles and lush forests and the extravagant metropolises. He was eager to get his fortune, earn his fame and take up a home in the Imperial City. "I would at least have liked for her to know that I survived the attack on Asgard," he nodded as he thought about it. "I'd like to see her one last time," he said and his eyes were misty.

"I never even kissed the triplets goodbye," wailed Frandal. "Ulla, Ursula and Olga!" the fair-haired swordsman stated. "Oh my beauties! My loves!" he moaned. "Ah, such gorgeous girls. Each with a different flavored lip," he wet his lips as he thought about their kisses. "Ulla with lips that taste like cherries," Frandal whispered as he started to close his eyes and envision her mouth. "Ursula, her lips are like honey," He whispered as he bit his lip sinking deeper and deeper into his vision. "Mmm," he groaned with lusty, "Olga," Frandal ran his hands over his mouth as if kissing it.

"Frandal!" Sif barked with a disgusted curl of the lip. "Take a plunge!" she ordered.

Frandal jumped out his trance. He flashed from picturing himself lying on his back in a gondola with his head resting on one of the sisters laps while his feet were propped up on another and the third hand fed him rich, plump grapes. "I'm...I'm sorry," the lover apologized to the troops as he looked around and noted that he was surrounded by a group of dirty, men in barren cave. "But Before I give my life fighting for king and country I'd rather lie in the arms of the woman I love, or lie in the bed with all three," Frandal chuckled and gave a wink to Hogun as he jabbed the austere soldier in the side of his arm with his elbow.

Hogun barely managed to offer his romantic friend a smirk. He crossed his arms and looked down, "My aunts," he remarked.

"Aunts?" Frandal questioned.

"yes," Hogun stated simply. They were two elderly spinsters, but when they found out he was living in an orphanage they rescued him. His parents had died through no fault of their own and his own brother had sold him for a few coins. He'd been abused and battered in the orphanage and forced to steal to survive, but then the two kindly old ladies, who he never knew had rescued him. They were both old and feeble now, but they deserved to hear one last word of thanks from him he supposed.

"I wish to see all my family," Volstagg expressed. Volstagg had a very large and close-knit family. He came from a clan of about 8 siblings himself and both of his parents were living with about 5 siblings each, "But more than any I'd want to see my wife and children again," he told the other warriors.

Lady Jane had entered into sitting around the fire with the men a few moments ago. "You have children Volstagg?' she asked. She didn't mean to sound so shocked about it.

The blonde-haired swordsman started to laugh loud and hard. "I was surprised when I found out too, Lady Jane!" he called.

"Quiet you!" the portly member of the legendary Warriors Three spat at Frandal. Volstagg turned to the mortal. His pudgy red face was all smiles as he nodded, "Yes, a wife and children," he added proudly. Jane didn't know why she was so surprised to learn that Volstagg had a family. He was kind, jovial man, who was excellent and fabled warrior and good friends with Asgard's future king. He was surely quite a catch. Volstagg certainly seemed like he would be good with children. He was always laughing and joking and smiling, always making light of things. He was patient and gentle. He was strong and hearty and brave. He would be an excellent father.

Volstagg's started to maneuver a this brass chain from in between his breastplate and his under armor tunics. He pulled out a small locket made of a tarnished metal. There was an engraving on it that looked like nothing but scribble-scrabble to Lady Jane but she knew it was an Old Norse word, although she didn't know what word it was. He slipped it from around his neck and it got caught his curly red beard. Volstagg winced as he pulled and tugged as he carefully pried the trinket from the thicket of facial hair. Once he managed that he clicked it open and showed it to Lady Jane.

Once opened a hologram like portrait was revealed. It was a very distinguished portrait of Volstagg and his family. They were all in formal attire. Volstagg was wearing black and gold robes and a very traditional piece of Viking headdress. Jane almost laughed as she beheld him in a metal helmet with animal horns and fur around the rim. There was a woman seated to his right wearing a royal purple gown. She was bronzed in color with mixed dirty blonde hair. She styled it in an elegant braided coif. She had freckles that ran all across her cheeks and face. The color of her freckles matched the color of her eyes. and light colored eyes.

Their children on their laps. The oldest child, a little girl, who didn't seem to be over the standard Midgardian age of 9, looked a lot like her mother, but there was no denying that she was Volstagg's daughter. She was chubby in her frame with adorably plump and rosy cheeks. She had had freckles like her mother, but her hair was red, more of a strawberry blonde color than the fiery shade of her fathers. She was dressed in a pretty blue dress with delicate white fur around the collar and sleeves. The little girl was wearing her hair in a style that Lady Jane could only think to describe as Princess Leia buns.

The younger of the two children, was a little boy. He looked to be around the age of 5. He was a chubby, round butterball of a boy and Jane imagined that Volstagg must have been the spitting image of his son as a lad. The little boy was smiling from ear to ear, but most of his teeth were missing. In truth he could have been the exact replica of his father save for the smattering of freckles that ran across his cheeks and bridge of his nose like his mother and the fact that his hair was cut short with a single braided strand growing at the nape of his neck. "That's Volka, my wife," Volstagg point out the stately, proud woman who sat by his side "And my dear Mishel and Astrid," he beamed with pride.

"They're adorable!" Jane commended the round member of the warriors three.

Volstagg grinned from ear to ear and puffed out his chest. "Aren't they though. My lovely Volka and I were thinking of having another one," he admitted to the human woman.

"Another one!" shrieked Frandal as he slapped his knee. 'You must be crazy," he exclaimed. "Another mouth to feed. You and Volka eat enough for 10 children!" Frandal teased.

Volstagg growled. "I'll not have you talking about my Volka!" the red haired Viking expressed. "She as dainty as a daisy and she eats like a bird, I'll have you know," Volstagg confirmed pointing his sausage like finger toward Frandal's nose.

His loud protest in defense of his wife was merely met by the silence of the troops. Frandal broke the silence with a boisterous blast of a laugh. "A bird! A bird? What kind of bird a pelican?' he jeered.

"Why Frandal I oughta!" Volstagg rumbled as she rolled up the sleeve of his tunic revealing a large, red, hair right arm. He curled his fuzzy, red knuckles into a fist.

"They met at a pie eating contest, Lady Jane," Frandal began to explain to the mortal scientist.

Volstagg's anger seemed to instantly dissipate as he heard the beginning of his own love story, "Aye," he began as he turned toward the auburn haired Midgardian woman. "It was a lovely spring day,. We met at the May-Fair. Picture it if you can Lady Jane," he said as he gestured with his hands. "A beautiful, balmy day in the Imperial City, flowers hanging from the windowsills and lining the lentil and doorposts of every home. The market place filled with fresh fruits and the biggest and best of livestock. Everybody dressed in the colors of the rainbow. Children frolicking and dancing around the poles," Volstagg recounted. We were all gathered in the village square. Tents were set up for all sorts of competition. I had just finished winning a pie eating contest," Volstagg began to boast.

"No one stands a chance against that stomach," Frandal whispered quickly into Jane's ear. His voice was low, but he spoke at a volume just loud enough for Volstagg to hear. His fat friend turned to him and cast him a glare. Frandal merely flashed a brilliant smile that showed no remorse.

Soon the jolly red-bearded Viking was laughing heartily. His big belly shaking as he did so. He grabbed his round tummy. "Aye," that may be true he nodded, "but there was one who gave me a run for my money and that was my dear Volka. She had won the pie eating contest for the women. We were both lead to challenge each other and I caught sight of her for the first time. Ahh," Volstagg smacked his lips as he reminisced. "She was a vision far more lovely than Freya," he expressed as he pressed his hand to his heart.

Frandal rolled his eyes. "That's an exaggeration," he muttered to one of the other soldiers who smirked in agreement.

"I'd never seen anything so pretty as her face smeared with the juice of blueberries. I'd never known a woman to eat that way," he told Jane.

"neither have the rest of us," the finest swordsman in all of Asgard quipped again.

"She was so breathtaking that I lost my appetite at the sight of her. I knew it was love right then and there," he confirmed.

Jane giggled, "sure sounds like a match made in heaven to me."

"Aye, indeed it twas," Volstagg swooned. "A love predestined by the Norns!" he gushed to her.

Sif listened as the men continued to talk on of their wives and children and family members that they wanted to be with. The more she heard their simpering sentiments the more disgusted the shield-maiden became. They sounded like homesick children and not warriors of Asgard. They sounded nothing like the Einherjar who marched in and first defeated the Dark-Elves on the day of Convergence that took place 5000 years ago, they didn't sound like the same Einherjar who had fought to save Midgard from the tyranny of the Frost Giants.

Perhaps it was her. Maybe she shouldn't blame them, before she joined the ranks of the Einherjar she'd trained as a Valkyrie for nearly two centuries. The Valkyries pledged themselves to celibacy for this very purpose. They knew that entanglements in family affairs could weaken a warriors resolve in times such as these. The Einherjar took no such vow of chastity. Instead they promoted family life, being that the occupation of Einherjar was usually passed down from the father onto his eldest son.

Although the shield-maiden wished to accuse the men of cowardice she found she couldn't. She imagined she would have felt the same way if she and her family were closer. Naturally, she loved and cared about her family, but their relationships had been strained for centuries. Her parents had never approved of the fact that she pursued becoming an Einherjar. Once she was accepted into the ranks of the greatest warriors in the all the realms and received the honors there of her parents seemed to take pride in her accomplishment, but it was all too little and too late as Sif was concerned. Even still her mother pressured her to get married. Once her mother became firmly convinced that her daughter was far to masculine to ever fetch a bride price she pressured her to help her brother, Leif gain ranks among the Einherjar.

Leif had been a fine warrior as a lad. He was one of the best, but his bitter rivalry with the Crown Prince had not won him favor amongst the people. And truth be told, Leif had never been as good as he thought he was. He wouldn't have made it as an Einherjar. Perhaps he could have honed his skills, but he never had the heart to truly be a soldier or be under the command of another. He didn't follow rules or listen to order. When he was rejected after basic training. He became a drunk. Her parents wouldn't call him that, but that was what he was. He pretended to have a position of honor in one of the smaller cities of Asgard. He said he was a constable, but he was that only in name. He lived off of his inheritance and constantly asked their father for money to pay his drinking and gambling debts. His debts were so steep that even their parents couldn't afford to pay it and would often have to ask her to foot the bill. She refused and her relations with her parents had turned sour shortly following the year Leif was forced to spend in debtors prison.

Her brother's children were too much like him. They were ill-mannered, argumentative, churlish and pampered boys. They were disrespectful as well. They never even called her aunt. When she came to visit, which was rare, she and her brother, Leif hadn't gotten along since their early days of school, since before she became friends with Prince Thor, but when she did come to call her nephews simply called her Sif or warrior-girl or you-there. Sif clenched her teeth already feeling irritated as she recalled their constant disrespect. She knew that that was less of the children's fault and more of their parents. She knew Leif had poisoned his sons against her. She and Leif rarely spoke and if they did it was only to keep up pretenses in front of her mother.

Lady Sif tried to turn her mind off of the bad relationship with her own family as she listened to the men speak of their loved ones. She thought of Volstagg's family. His wife and children. She was close with them. She knew how much Volstagg loved them and how much they loved him. They had been in the Imperial City during the Dark-Elf attack. His children no doubt had been at school, maybe Volka had been at home or maybe she'd been at the opera house rehearsing for her next show. Had they even had the chance to say goodbye to him before he left? Lady Sif had never much cared for children. She never once played with dolls as a girl or pretended to be a mother in her imaginary games. The children that she did meet always seemed to irritate her. They were sticky and needy, whiny and weepy, she supposed she just wasn't maternal.

Despite the fact that lady Sif had never enjoyed children she had to admit that she had always thoroughly enjoyed Volstagg's children. They were sweet chubby faced cherub like children. They both had such pleasant personalities. Mishel was talkative, always running off at the mouth and yet Sif didn't mind. She rather enjoyed having the young boy rush up to her and greet her when he'd see her, he'd throw his pudgy arms around her knees and immediately start talking. He was always eager to tell a joke. Most of the time the jokes were actually rather amusing. One day she asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up and he told her he wanted to be a jester.

Astrid was quieter than her little brother. But she enjoyed a good tale. She could often be found joining her parents around a banquet table and listening to her father and Sif and Frandal and Hogun swap stories of their adventures. She'd hear the tales and then she'd compose her own songs about them. She was always dancing around and singing and she seemed like she had the makings of an excellent minstrel.

The brunette warrior woman closed her eyes, he had a right to see his family again. Because what if Ragnarok did come and those were truly the final moments of freedom and light that they all knew, the Lady Sif supposed that everyone had the right to spend those moments with the people that they loved the most in this world. That is why she wanted to fight along side her friends. Volstagg, Hogun am Frandal had been more like brother's to her than Leif had ever been. That was why she wanted to go back and find Prince Thor because if it truly was the end of days then she wanted to face that with the only man she believed she'd ever love.

"Fine," the dark-haired shield-maiden spoke up, her bold voice interrupted one of Volstagg's humorous anecdotes about his children. "Then I will go out and look for Thor by myself," Sif declared to all the men.

"Sif, you can't," Frandal stated with a sigh.

"Don't presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, Frandal!" Lady Sif warned him as she turned around a flung her finger in his face.

"Sif going out there alone...is suicide," Frandal explained as he shook his head.

"Then I will go with her," Jane Foster stood up and announced to the Einherjar. The heads of the men swung to face the dirty Midgardian maiden.

"What?" Sif gasped.

A series of whats echoed behind Lady Sif's. Jane's breath hitched as she looked at the astonished faces of the soldiers seated around the fire. "Lady Jane, no!" Frandal called. He rushed over to her and immediately gripped her up by her shoulders. He held her firmly as his blue eyes stared into her light brown ones. "NO!" he told her definitively. "Thor gave all of us explicit instructions to take you back to Asgard where you would be safe. Ever forgive me if me if anything were to happen to you," he explained.

"Lady Jane I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing that I didn't do my utmost to protect you," Volstagg stated.

"Me as well," Hogun confirmed quickly as he hung his head. Jane smiled at each of the warriors. There concern for her was touching. They were Thor's friends, but in the short time that she had come to know them she was proud to say that they had become her friends as well. They genuinely seemed to like her which was something she had never been able to say about Donald's friends and family.

The female scientist felt grateful for their protectiveness over her.

Sif rolled her mahogany colored eyes and flipped her dark brown ponytail over her shoulder as she scoffed. "You're not coming," Sif stated as she turned her brown eyes back to looking back and Lady Jane.

The astrophysicist blinked her eyes in confusion for a moment. "With all due respect Lady Sif, how do you intend to stop me," Jane asked as she placed her hands on her hips. "Thor is out there and if he's hurt or in danger or in trouble then I have every intent to be there for him," Jane declared.

Sif stepped closer to the mortal woman, she looked her up and down, "And of what use do you think you would be?" Sif questioned indignantly. "You are a mortal," Sif reminded her. Jane stiffened at the word. Sif said it like an insult. "We have no food or water," she pointed out. "Even these mighty men of Asgard fear crossing the desert in those conditions," Sif stated as she pointed to the soldiers.

"Well I'm not afraid," Jane declared back toward S, she craned her neck to look up into the warrior woman's eyes. Sif was a statuesque build she was a woman who stood at nearly 5 feet 9 inches tall, she was muscular and in her armor she was an imposing sight to Lady Jane Foster who was only about 5'5.

"Lady Jane, Sif is right, the desert is treacherous," Volstagg whispered in her ear as he gently clutched her shoulder. Jane gave the warrior a slight smile and patted his hand that rested on her.

"Even if it is a risk," Jane began as she took a deep breath. "Every man here has been so brave in fighting...I'm willing to go out there if it means we have a chance of rescuing Thor and saving everyone from destruction."

"Once again I ask you what help do you think you would be to Thor or myself? You will only slow me down and we only have less than a day until Convergence comes. You are not a warrior, so you would not be able to fight off Malekith or his hoard if they are holding Thor and Loki hostage," Sif explained. "You are not even a healer, so if Prince Thor is injured you will be able to do noting to help him!" Sif accused.

"I could create a diversion," Jane protested.

"Only making yourself a greater liability. If I have to watch out for you while fighting to rescue Prince Thor then that puts us all in more danger," Sif expressed.

"Lady Sif if you go I am going," Jane informed her as she pointed her finger into Sif's chest. Sif looked down at the dirty finger pressed into her dusty armor and looked into Jane's eyes. They stared into Jane defiant hazel eyes. She knew that look, It was the same look of determination that she'd seen in Jane Foster when they'd first met. The look she had noted when Thor had told Jane to run away as the Destroyer ransacked her small Midgardian town. The auburn haired scientist hadn't fled in the face of danger then and Sif could tell that the mortal maiden had no intention of backing down now. Truth be told Sif admired that in Jane.

"Lady Jane, please don't do this," Frandal pleaded. "It is foolishness for either of you to go out there!" the blonde-haired swordsman insisted. "The elements of this realm are harsh and unforgiving! And even Lady Sif can't take on a whole battalion of Dark-Elves by herself!"

Lady Sif snorted and hocked up a wad of saliva which she hurled toward the ground, "Don't be so sure of that," the warrior woman growled as she flipped her double bladed javelin from its' sheath.

"Lady Jane you must reconsider," Volstagg implored the mortal woman. "Prince Thor gave orders for us to take you back to Asgard. He wants you there where you can be safe. I intend to obey his commands," Volstagg reported.

Jane turned around a faced the pudgy, red-haired Viking warrior, "But that's just the thing, Volstagg," the female scientist qualified. "You may be Thor's subject and expected to obey his every order, but I am not a citizen of Asgard and I don't have to obey Thor's dictates," she declared and gave a wink.

The brunette shield-maiden was slowly beginning to admire the spirit and tenacity of the mortal woman Jane Foster. Although she was simply a feeble human, untrained in the arts of war and unprepared for the perils that they could face if they embarked upon such a quest together, she had a strong heart and strong heart was the greatest weapon that any true warrior carried in to battle.

She loved Thor. That much had become painfully obvious to Lady Sif. Sif hated admitting it to herself. She wished she could comfort herself with the notion that although Prince Thor ad chosen to bestow so much love and devotion upon this mortal woman that the mortal woman didn't reciprocate Thor affection. She wished that she could say that she loved Thor more than a mortal like Jane every could. But she realized she didn't. Jane loved Thor enough to defy him. She loved him enough to try and go fight for him even though she knew the odds were insurmountable.

And Thor loved her. He loved her enough to want to see her kept out of harms way for as long as possible. Even if Ragnarok was inevitable, Thor wanted to give Jane every chance of survival. Sif know Thor would never forgive her if something happened to Lady Jane. Even if she were able to rescue Thor and bring him back to their troops and he was able to fight against Malekith, over come him and save all the realms from an eternal state of night it would mean nothing to him if he lost Jane. That would be Ragnarok for him Sif could never bear to cause Prince Thor that type of pain.

Lady Sif closed her dark brown eyes and clenched her fist and exhaled through her mouth. She could still hear Frandal and Volstagg earnestly arguing with Jane. "Frandal is right," Sif finally stated. Heads swiveled at the shield-maiden's confession. "It was Prince Thor's final request to us as his troops that if he doesn't return by morning that we all return to Asgard. You may not be a citizen of Asgard and a subject to the crown, Lady Jane but I am and as such I owe my acting king and commander and chief all fidelity, especially at a time like this. So I'm returning to Asgard come first light," stated Lady Sif as she looked down at the ground.

Jane's hazel eyes grew wide. She started to protest. She wanted to yell at Sif. Where was all the resolve from moments before? Had all the bravado been an act? Was the warrior woman, Sif truly scared to go and face Malekith and save Thor? "It's for the best Jane. We have to trust Thor's orders," Frandal explained as he placed a sympathetic palm on her shoulder.

Jane twisted her shoulder free from the swashbucklers clasp, she looked at him in disbelief and staggered backward with horror. "So you all are really going to leave?" she questioned. "Thor will be trapped here?'

"Not necessarily Lady Jane," Volstagg muttered. "Thor could still arrive by daybreak."

"And if he doesn't?" Jane asked her eyes welling with tears.

"He still has Loki," Hogun stated. "Loki can open the portal and get them back to Asgard," the almond-eye warrior stated firmly. Jane wanted to argue. But what could she really say? It wasn't as if she could survive in the Dark-world alone. She pressed her lips together as they started to quiver.

"Let's try to get some sleep," Volstagg interjected never one to want to see a lady cry. "Who knows what morning light will bring," he explained.

The soldiers dispersed to their mats and sleeping cots. Hearts went to bed heavy and uneasy that night. Jane laid on her cot wide awake. She finally moved from her protected spot in the center of the soldiers and went to sit by the edge of the mouth of the cave. She'd watch for Thor. She'd watch until down and see him return to her. Footsteps fell behind her. Jane turned around and faced the stepper with bloodshot watery eyes. . A warrior with brunette hair and burgundy lips offered her a soft smile as she draped an extra blanket over her shoulders. "Mind if I keep watch with you?" Sif asked. Jane shook her head but was unable to to verbally reply. They sat in silence for a while. "Thor will return to Asgard," Sif promised.


Queen Frigga stepped out onto the balcony of her chamber in the Southern Palace. A shawl was draped over her dainty shoulders to fight off the cool of the evening. The night air was chilly, but refreshingly so. It carried the distinct crispness that was perfect of this time of year, late autumn just after harvest. Frigga walked the length of the limestone balcony. She stood by the banister and allowed her hands to rest on the railing as her weary sapphire eyes overlooked the seaside hamlet. It was a small and quiet town. Sleepy, for the hour was late. There was little activity, but a few lights still shined in the windows of the houses and manors.

She inhaled deeply and allowed the smell of sea air and ocean mist to fill her nostrils. The scents of the seashore were delightful and soothing. She could even detect the faint pleasant aroma of salt and brine wafting in the breeze. It caused a smile to grace the queen's beautiful lips. The queen closed her eyes and took in the song of the sea. She could hear the thunderous clap of the ocean waves as they rolled in and crashed against the beach. She could hear the sound of the strong wind off the sea rushing through the palm trees. Somewhere in the distance she knew she heard voices laughing and singing as they walked across the coastline. Such merriment and peace as a symphony to the queen's ears.

It caused her to open her eyes and gaze up at the heavens. They were as magnificent as any work of art that the queen had ever beheld. The heavens were painted in a rich velvety, blue with glittering, white diamond stars speckling its underbelly. A full moon shone proudly in the sky. She was displayed as a sacred, celestial guardian overlooking all. Her silver rays illuminated the white sands so that each of the grains of sand looked like a shined and polished pearl.

On a night like tonight when everything was so tranquil and beautiful one could almost forget the terrible events that had just transpired days before. Such a night made her think of romantic walks young lovers along the beach. Queen Frigga could picture she and Odin in the early days of their marriage strolling along the shore line. Odin's meeting with the delegates would often run late into the night, some times so late and so long that the young, royal couple would hardly have any time to spend together during the day, but he'd never let the night time pass them by. He'd throw pebbles at the window to their shared bedroom chamber. It was exciting and romantic. She'd leap down from her balcony window, slightly scared, but completely confident that Odin would catch her. And he would. Then they'd ride off on the back of one of the white stallions and race along the coast. They'd dance in the sand on the moonlight. Odin would build them a fire from the bark and driftwood on the beach and they lie in each others arms dreaming of the future they'd have together.

The Queen of Asgard smiled, nearly giggled as she reminisced. She thought of other times centuries later after those dreams had become realities and their family was started. She'd walk her boys to the observatory in the north tower so that they could look out of the telescope and see the stars. "Do all the stars have names, Mama?" asked Loki as he pushed away from the telescope and grabbed on to Frigga's coattails. "Oh yes, My dear," the queen nodded. "Each and everyone," she assured him. "You do well to learn of the stars my son," expressed. Loki's small pale hands reached up to her. She smiled down at him, his dark tresses were blowing in the wind over his vivid green eyes. There was a shy, but happy smile on his face. She knew that Odin would chide her saying that she was coddling him, to much, but she couldn't resist. He was their youngest, their baby after all. She scooped him up on to her hip and he squealed a little as she did so.

"Why?" Thor questioned as he rubbed sleepy eyes and stared up at the moon. She beckoned him closer and he continued to rub his pretty blue eyes and he dragged feet over to her. "The stars are boring?" he yawned.

"No they're not!" Loki argued.

"Are to!"

"Are not!"

"Are to!"

"Are not, Thor!" Loki finally yelled getting frustrated with his brother. Frigga couldn't help, but laugh Thor and Loki argued a lot now, they were different as night and day, but she knew that their bond was strong. "They're magical," the younger prince sighed.

Thor rolled his eyes. "You are always talking about magic," Thor grumbled.

"Loki's right, Thor," the queen confessed. "The stars can tell you much," she warned. "They can tell you of the past," Queen Frigga explained with a gesture of the hands. "The souls of our ancestors exist among them," she explained. "They can also tell you of your future," the queen whispered in the ears of her sons as she pulled Thor closer to her.

"Can you tell us our futures through the stars?" the blue-eyed boy inquired.

"Only those who are very skilled and very wise can interpret the stars," the wife of Odin explained.

"B-b-but, you are very wise, Mama," Loki reported sleepily as he laid his head against Frigga's chest and started to suck his thumb. Frigga brought her head down and allowed her lips to plant a gentle kiss on Loki's raven locks.

"Thank you, dear," she muttered into his ear.

"Tell me my future, Mama!" Thor nearly begged as he tugged hard on his mother's dress.

The queen brought her hand to drape across her elder son's cheek. She could tell Thor was getting sleepy too. He was must to big of a boy to actually be asked to be held, but when she gestured for him to come up and rest on her hip, he didn't resist. Soon she was carrying both of her sons back to their bedrooms. "Just remember my sons that the future isn't set in stones like the stars it is constantly shifting and rotating throughout the heaves so is your future," she whispered in their ears as they fell asleep.

The memories were so pleasant and vibrant in Queen Frigga's mind that the horrible attack on the Imperial City seemed like nothing but the distant remnant of a long forgotten dream, nothing but the haze of a nightmare. Alas the brutal massacre of days past was no dream, but it was a nightmare made into reality. Queen Frigga's sapphire eyes filled with tears as she broke her gaze from the night sky. The tears that she had so long tried to suppress slowly started to well up in her sapphire blue eyes and one silently slipped down her cheek as she thought of how many of the stars that she gazed at on this lovely night were newly formed and made of the re of her people who'd fallen in the brutal raid.

The Imperial City lied in ruin, the brave men and women of Asgard had died, her husband, King Odin was not whisking her away on a moonlit escapade, but rather he lied in Oversleep and her sons were not lying safely in her arms snug and safe and content, but rather, they were far away in a dark realm out of her reach and Convergence...Convergence, an event that was normally celebrated and reverenced throughout all of Asgard was now a moment full of awe and dread. Now the great and terrible event was only a day away and there had been no word from the Imperial City and no word from her sons. The queen had tried to remain strong, she knew all the courtiers who had fled the Imperial City with her were wrecked with worry and fear for their lives. She could only imagine the fear and panic that was starting to spread through the streets among the populace. She and her entourage had tried to leave quietly in the dead of the night, but she knew by now rumors were spreading. Naturally, the citizens would expect some type of statement to be released, some proclamation to be decreed throughout the land and some announcement to tell them the plan action that the government planned too take against this great threat, but to her knowledge no statement had bee made and the children of Asgard were left in ignorance, ignorance was bound to spread panic. She'd tried to be calm, but her heart was starting to fill with worry. She thought Thor and Loki would be back by now.

Asgard's queen wrung her hands as she started to pace across the balcony. A million worrisome thoughts raced through her mind. Why hadn't there been any contact made between her Thor and Loki? She knew that the High Council would have sent word to her immediately had Thor returned. Which could have only meant that the army hadn't returned. Truth-be-told she thought they'd have been back by now. The queen had never anticipated that they'd be this close to Convergence without victory.

She wondered for what reason they had been delayed. She wondered if they had even made it. She knew that Loki could find a pathway to the Dark-World, but to transport 50 men was an Einherjar's feat; Loki's magic was strong. Strong enough to come back even after facing extraction, so it would appear, but even so Loki had not exercised enchantment to that extent in a long time. What if it had proved to difficult for him? Frigga shook such a silly notion from her mind, surely Thor or Loki or Heimdal would have made contact with her by now if they had not even been able to get through the portal to the Dark-World. They would have found another way. They would have taken less men, but they would have gotten through by whatever means necessary.

Still, there were many other things that could have gone wrong. What if they'd gotten hurt or sick going through the magic passageway? Dimensional travel could often be dangerous. What if they couldn't find Malekith and the Dark-Elf army? What if the elves had taken refuge in another realm? What if something had happened to the mortal woman Jane Foster? She was a mere mortal, not a woman of combat, how could she be expected to survive such conditions? If she was hurt Thor would be crushed and she knew her son was strong, but would his heart be strong enough to persevere through such grief? And what of Loki? She wondered how he was fairing with his own loss. Were the troops willing to except him for this venture? She suspected that the Einherjar wouldn't protest or go against Thor command, but that didn't mean that they welcomed the sight of Loki. She knew that most of the people of Asgard still considered Loki a scoundrel and criminal fit for capital punishment.

Her darkest of fears bubbled to the surface of her mind. What if the forces of the Dark-Elves had been too much for the small battalion? She'd seen what they could do, the power they could wield...What is their army had fallen? What if they'd been captured? The queen of Asgard gulped . Or worse. Frigga slammed her eyes shut and clasped her hands together firmly. "Nonononon!" the queen muttered frantically to herself as she tried to block the images from her head. Frigga pressed her hand to her heart as she felt her breath hitch. She shook her head and tried to put such thoughts out of her mind. She didn't want to envision the brave warriors of Asgard lying with their limbs severed and blades and axes scattered across the black sands of Svartalfheim. Their bodies buried in the wastes of the Dark-World. She d didn't want to think of it, but she couldn't help but picture the black sands sprayed crimson with the blood of Asgardian warriors. She saw smoke and ash rising from the battlefield. She saw the broken and bruised bodies of the soldiers strewn across the dusty ground like broken toys. She was almost brought to her knees as she saw the outlines of the armor of Frandal and Volstagg and Sif and Hogun mixed in with the scene of carnage. It was terrible. She loved them so, she'd watched them grow up and they were just as precious to her as any of her numerous nieces and nephews. They were ore like her own children. The wife of Odin's eyelids flung open before she could even think of finding her sons among the bodies of the deceased

Frigga covered her eyes blocking the images from her mind. No, no. she couldn't think like that. The troops were fine. She assured herself of this with a few deep breaths. Thor and Loki were fine and well and would be leading the Einherjar back home with a tale that would be glorious, they'd talk of the legendary battle and it would be turned into song a song that would be heralded throughout the land. They were more than capable of overcoming any obstacle that the Dark-Elves presented them with if they worked together. But considering all that had happened over the past 2 years that may have been easier thought than done. She knew that Thor wanted to trust Loki. He'd missed his brother more than Loki could have ever fathomed, but he was hurt and wary now. Loki all though he would never admit it, craved redemption. She knew her younger son far to well to truly ever believe that he truly wanted to be a monster, but Loki was stubborn, prideful, angry, grieving. Ho

"My queen?" called an eager voice as the door to her chamber was pushed open. "Your majesty?" the voice continued to call out frantically as it searched for the wife of Odin.

The call interrupted to queen's thoughts and pulled her out of them for a moment. She glanced up at the heavens once more. She took in the vastness of the night sky. She could only hope that somewhere out there, Loki and Thor and the Einherjar were safe. "Oh, my sons," the queen whispered in a quiet prayer. "Be safe," she entreated them. "You are our last hope. The Nine Realms are counting on you, though they do not all know it, all of Asgard in counting on you as am I," she expressed as she stared at the bright full moon. "Save us," she begged.

"Your Majesty?" the voice continued to call out throughout the chamber as it grew closer to the queen's balcony.

"Yes, yes, one moment please," Queen Frigga called back as she opened the white drapes that separated the bedroom and balcony and came back inside the palace.

When Queen Frigga stepped back inside she was immediately met by a brown skinned man with a bald head dressed in white linens. Upon seeing the queen he immediately bowed at the waist toward the royal woman. "Your Highness," he muttered as he started to raise to an upright position. "Please forgive me, your majesty, a thousand apologies for my abrupt intrusion," he implored the queen.

Frigga smiled kindly down at the apologetic subject. "Please, Healer Onrac," the queen began with grace. She waved her hand signaling for him to rise. 'Tis no intrusion, I requested that you come to me with any news of my husband. I trust that is why you have come."

"Yes, Majesty," Healer Onrac nodded.

"How fares he, Onrac?" Queen Frigga asked as she stepped closer to the healer. Frigga reached out and took the middle-aged Asgardian man by his brown hands.

The queen's healer smiled he puffed out his chest with pride, "I am pleased to report that my king, Odin is in stable condition. The journey to the Southern palace proved to be a rough transition for him, but he seems to be resting comfortably now. His fever has cooled as his vital signs are reading at normal levels," he explained.

Queen Frigga's lips curled into a smile as her eyes crinkled. "Thank goodness," she sighed in relief as she clenched her hands in a prayerful position and lifted her misty blue eyes upward. "I knew that the journey would be rough on him" the royal woman muttered to herself. "He should not have traveled," she repeated.

"There was no other choice, your majesty," the healer confirmed. "You had to move the king from the Imperial City. He was at too great a risk..if the Dark_Elves return," Healer Onrac cautioned.

"Yes, I know," the queen interrupted the medicine man. She didn't want to think about Odin lying vulnerable and helpless while the city was under attack. "Has there been any sign of consciousness," Queen Frigga asked.

Automatically the bald-headed healer's puffed up chest deflated and his shoulder fell. "No, Majesty," he reported, his hands folded behind his back and he looked like a shamefaced little boy before the queen. "I am sorry," he apologized. "The healers and myself have used all the herbs and incantations that we know of, but..."

The golden queen of Asgard reached out her hand and touched Onrac on the shoulder.."You and your staff have worked hard," she assured the physician. Her dainty hand reached out and touched him on the shoulders. "You have worked tirelessly. You've done all you could do," the golden queen complimented him and his staff. "You all must rest," she explained. "There is no more that you can do for him," she expressed. "Besides, it is the gravity of all that transpires that weighs so heavily on his heart and keeps him bound in Oversleep," she explained.

"These are most perilous times, indeed your majesty," Onrac nodded.

'Indeed," Queen Frigga whispered confirmation. "But you must rest, Healer Onrac, I will go to him," said the queen as she immediately lifted up her skirts and started to turn toward the door to go to her husband's bedside.

"Majesty," Onrac called behind her. His voice froze the queen in her tracks. "If I may be so bold as to offer a word of advice," he started to pose.

The wife of Odin spun around on her heels. ""Your advice is always welcomed and appreciated old friend."

"With all due respect, you should rest too, my queen," the bald-headed healer offered. He knew that the queen had also been working tirelessly since she and the courtiers arrived at the Southern Palace. She saw to it that the staff at the Southern Palace knew exactly how to take care of each of the noblemen and noblewomen that graced the halls. She assigned chambermaids and butlers to each family that had fled with her. And told them how to decorate the rooms so that the nobles would feel most at home during this frightful time. She personally saw to the preparation of the meals. She organized the menus for breakfast, lunch and dinner she made sure that each meal was a lavished banquet for her guests.

Queen Frigga had also seen to taking care of the sat the Southern Palace. The Southern Palace had often been a getaway for the royal family or sometimes the High Council of Asgard would have retreats there, other times it had been used to give sanctuary to royal families from other realms who had sought Asylum in Asgard during times of war and political unrest. Lord Audric, Prime Minister of Vanahiem had sent his wife and young daughter there when the Civil Wars first started. Because of this the staff at the Southern Palace was not used to housing so many. Naturally, the palace had more than enough room for all the guests and if pressed it could have comfortably sheltered about 200 or 300 more, but the staff was pressed and stressed. Their numbers were small and the queen could see how frantic, Vill, the chief steward was about making sure everything was perfect for the queen and the courtiers. She worked to alleviate some of the pressure from the staff b asking her own waiting gentlewomen to help out. So that the palace staff could have adequate time to eat and rest.

When the Queen of Asgard was not instructing the servants and cooks on what to do for her guests she was at her husband's side. She watched over him as Healer Onrac and his proteges ran their tests and diagnostics. She observed as they shifted the mystic water over his body and tried to ease his distress. When the healers were not at work Frigga sat patiently at Odin's bedside. She held his hand talked to him, wiped his brow and crooned sweet soothing melodies in his ears. She prayed over him and implored him to wake. She'd scarcely slept.

The sleepless nights that she'd spent vigilantly watching over her husband started to show on Queen Frigga's beautiful face. She was no less fair than she had ever been, but her eyes were tired and droopy and dark circles and lines had started to form beneath them them. Her pallor was pale and not the normal healthy glowing tint of bronze it normally possessed. She looked somehow frail, Healer Onrac could not recall the queen eating more than a nibble during the elaborate meals that the she'd arranged. Her hair, although still woven neatly into an elegant bun had a few more strands of gray added there to be dispersed among her golden ringlets.
Queen Frigga gave a soft wag of the head. "At a time like this? When Odin lies in the Oversleep? When Convergence is so close upon us?" she shook her head once more. "I can not in good conscience rest at a time like this," she expressed.

"My Queen, that is all the more reason why we need you to rest," Healer Onrac pointed out. "With Convergence so close, and Ragnarok breathing down our necks, while the all-father lies in Oversleep and Prince Thor is in the Dark-World you are our leader. If anything was to happen...if the worse should happen all Asgard would be looking to you the all-mother for guidance. We cannot afford to have you ill as well," the chief physician explained.

The all-mother's shoulders slumped as she let out a pent up sigh. She new that her friend spoke only truth to her. They actually reminded her of words that Odin had spoken to her long ago. They hadn't even been married a decade. They were still honeymooners by Asgardian standards. That was the first time Odin had ever fallen into the Oversleep. They had been having a private dinner in their chambers It was very rare that they had such a private moment. In the midst of there dinner Odin fell asleep. He fell right out of his chair. It startled her so. She called for The guards and for the healers Once they moved him into the healing chamber they explained to her that what had happened was perfectly natural and safe for the king to enter in to such a state. As she listened to the healers she could slowly recall a conversation that she had with the elders and High Council members of Asgard along with Odin own mother, the Queen Dowager about the state of Oversleep before she an Odin married, but she had been so anxious for the wedding that she had hardly thought of the state of Oversleep as of any consequence.

Odin slept for nearly three weeks. It had been a frightful time for the young queen, but she stayed by the kings side day in and day out until he awoke. 'Oh Odin, I am so happy that you are awake," Frigga squealed as she wrapped her arms around his neck the night after he had awoken. He was weak and famished. He spent most of the day eating. "I was so worried about you," she cried as she cleared the plates away. She removed the plates and trays and sat them outside there room so that the servants could come and clear them away when they made their rounds. When she walked back into the inner chamber of their sleeping quarters Odin noted the tears welling in her eyes.

"Frigga," he called to her gently, his voice was hoarse and scratchy from going days with out speaking a word. He stood up as he saw her walk over to the vanity and and clutched the edges of the marble top. He watched as her shoulders shook as she started to sob. 'Frigga, it is alright now," he explained as he brought gentle hands toward the small of her back.

She immediately swung around to face him. She tried to look tall and strong and proud. The way a queen should, but her lip was quivering and eventually she could no longer contain herself,she exploded into a flood of tears. She grabbed Odin and pulled him close and wept into his chest. He held her tightly for a few moments. Letting her release all the fear and frustration and confusion and joy in her tears. He rubbed soothing circles on her back until she quieted. "I...I. Was just so worried," the blonde-haired queen began to explain as she started to wipe her eyes on the fringes of Odin's robes.

"I know.. I know...shh," he cooed to her as his massive hands cradled the back of her head tenderly. There's not need to worry now he explained, "It is over.

Frigga nodded and smile replaced the tears. "yes, yes," she agreed as she swiped the last drops of moisture away from her eyes. Her elegant hand stroked Odin's cheek. He had a beard , but his face was young and chiseled. She looked into his beautiful gray blue eyes. It had been so long since she'd seen them, that Frigga wanted to stare into them forever "it had just been so long, It was so hard for me to sit there watching you like that...helpless, she shook her head. "I knew not what to do for you," she admitted. "I was starting to fear you'd never wake," she confessed.

"You did much, "Odin assured his wife.

"I never left your side," Frigga stated.

"I know," Odin said as he pulled her toward his chest.

"You could hear me?" she asked as her fingers brushed the golden hairs of his beard.

"I could see you, I could see all," he explained. Frigga looked at him curiously but then recalled in her preparation for being queen how she had studied and read about such things. "It will happen again, you know," he stated.

"Yes, I know," Frigga replied. "When?" she asked frantically as she took him by the hand.

"I know not," Odin replied. "Not for many centuries I should hope, but it will last longer as I age until eventually..." she started slowly.

"Stop!" the young commanded, "Don't think that way," she told him.

"I'm not I'm just saying..."

"It doesn't matter how long it last," Frigga declared. "I will stay by your side through it all," she laid her head upon his chest and laced her fingers in his battle scarred hands.
Odin embraced his wife and planted kisses on her golden head. "That is what I wanted to talk to you about," he whispered.

"You need not fear my husband, I will never eave you," she swore.

"I know Frigga," he sighed looking down at her lovingly. There were many women in Asgard and in the other realms who his parents had presented as suitable matches for him, but he was glad he had followed his heart and pursued Frigga. Her family was not the wealthiest of courtiers and his mother thought she was nothing but a crown chaser, but he knew her better than that."But that is exactly what I need to talk to you about," he started to explained. She peeled her cheek away from his tunic and looked up at hi in confusion. "When the Oversleeps comes upon me I need you to step up to the challenge and sit on the throne and rule in my stead," he commissioned her.

"Odin, no," Frigga stated quietly as she pushed away from him. "I am your wife and I should be by your side. There are plenty of noblemen and generals who can handle the affairs of state while you sleep."

"In the Oversleep I can see more clearly Frigga and I am able to observe others," he explained. "I see through the eyes of the ravens," he expressed. He gestured his hand and Frigga heard the two birds cawing right outside their window. She had noted that their activity had been heavy during the time that Odin lied unconscious, but she thought little of it.

"I understand,"Queen Frigga started, "But.."

"I trust the members of my council, but not all of their motives are the same. I know they do not agree with the decisions that I have made in recent years. The laws of my father that I have overturned," she began.

"They are old me" she shrugged.

"The point is I trust you most of all, I know that while I sleep you will look out for Asgard I would. I know that you have the best interest of the people and of me at heart."

"Of course Odin, surely you trust Lord Algrim

"I do trust Lord Algrim, but he is a foreigner."

"He has been brought up here in Asgard since he was youth he is more Aesir than Elfin now," Frigga argued.

"I know my dear, but to certain members of the council and to the overall population he is still an foreigner and not trusted as much and although Algrim one of my oldest and dearest friends even he does not know me as well as you do. I need to know that when I sleep that my kingdom is in good hands. There are no hands more capable and lovely than yours," he said with a sly and charming smile on his lips as he brought her hand to his mouth so that he could plant a kiss on her knuckle..

The young royal's cheeks grew rosy. "And if I am watching over the kingdom who will watch over you?" she questioned.

"The healers and the maids, of course," Odin's large shoulders rose as he chuckled.

"Humph!" she snorted and turned up her nose, "You mean you want to be surrounded by a team of women rather than just I," she teased.

"Never!" he grabbed her shoulders and held her fast their blue eyes meeting. He pulled her close and kissed her fiercely. "Never," the king breathed after his lip's parted from Frigga's. "I never need any other woman," he declared to her. "You are the only woman I need, Frigga," he vowed, "because you possess all the qualities I could ever want in a woman. You are beautiful," he muttered as he traced the outline of her jaw. "pleasant," he added as he saw the smile on her lips, "Kind, strong, brave, wise, generous, supportive," he could have listed a hundred more attributes of his wife. Every time he stared into Frigga's cerulean eyes he felt like the luckiest man alive.

"You are a shameless flatterer, Odin Borson," Frigga muttered as she pushed his face away from her.

"You know I'm not. I speak on from my heart," he pointed his chest."I need you to do this for me Frigga, for the next time. Please, promise me that you will!" he practically begged. "I know it is a lot to ask. When you married me you made vows to me and made vows to this kingdom the Nine Realms. I am sorry to make my burdens yours," he sighed. "Perhaps that is not fair
"Stop," Queen Frigga halted him.
She placed her delicate finger tips to his lips. "Your burdens are my burdens" she confirmed. "We are one flesh now," she reminded him with a smile. "I will do what must be done," she stated. Odin wrapped his mighty arms around her once more. He kissed her long and hard.

"I have certainly missed your lips while I was in the Oversleep, he chuckled as he kept his mouth pressed against hers. She purred back at him. He took her by the hand leading her away from the vanity and back to the bed. "Don't worry," began as they took a seat on the edge of the bed. "I should guess it will be many centuries until I experience this again. By then I am sure will have many children and you will be so busy looking after than you shall not have time to be preoccupied with meme. When The children are old enough then they can rule while I slumber," Odin explained.

"Yes, and when are we going to start working on having these many children?' Frigga asked as she slid the straps of her nightgown off her shoulder.

"How about right now," Odin expressed as he engulfed her.

Frigga shook herself out of her musings. "You are right, Healer Onrac," Frigga agreed. "I must stay strong for Asgard, it is what the king would want," she stated firmly as she tried to convince herself.

"Excellent," Healer Onrac sighed as he clasped his hands together. "I would not advise such if I did not think it was best for your health, Your Highness," he reminded her.

"I know." the queen of Asgard admitted with a sigh. It was a hard decision to make, not to be with Odin at a time like this. When he seemed so frail and in need, but she knew this was what her husband would want. He would always put his duty to Asgard and the Nine Realms before his personal feelings. She had been his wife and queen for over 2000 years and she needed to do the same.

Healer Onrac cleared his throat. "I have young Pita, poised and ready to aide your majesty in your preparing for bed," Onrac expressed. With a slow turn of the hand he gestured toward the girl. "Pita, come!" the head healer called from the foyer and young woman appeared. She was short and tanned skin with round, dark eyes and curly, dark hair that came to about her chin. She appeared to the Midgardian age of 14 or 15. Typically an age when most children in Asgard took on apprenticeships.

"G-g-g-good evening your Majesty," the young handmaiden whispered as she stepped forward, but she did not make eye contact with the queen. She kept her head and eyes lowered. She dipped into a curtsy before the royal woman and stayed in that pose. "I...I...I it...it...it would be an honor...or...uh...I...would be honored to be your waiting gentlewoman for this evening," she stammered over her words just and she wobbled while trying to hold her legs in a curtsy.

"Arise, young Pita," the queen said gently. "The honor is mine," she smiled at the girl who dared to bring her deep colored eyes look at the ruler of the realm. Her smile was much more pleasant and genuine then the young woman could have imagined and it disarmed her.

"Pita, be sure that you see to all her Majesty's needs," Healer Onrac instructed.

The servant girl beamed she could have ever imagined that the queen of Asgard would have been interested in anything that she would have had to say.. "if you are ready to retire for the evening my lady I shall assist you now, "Pita offered.

""Thank you, child" Queen Frigga stated affectionately to the young lady.

"Rest well your majesty, I shall keep you posted on any changes that the king may have, though I suspect he will make little change tonight," the healer stated.

"Thank you, Healer Onrac, I know he is in the most capable of hand," the queen complimented. As she walked by the bald-headed medicine man. She touched his shoulder and gave a grateful nod. Pita trailed behind Queen Frigga as they made their to the queen's sleeping quarters.

Once in the queen's private chamber, a room large enough to be a barrack for an entire battalion, young Pita immediately took to helping the queen undress. It was more grand and elaborate than anything the young serving wench had ever imagined. Her father was a guard at the Southern Palace and when the staff was told that the Queen and the royal entourage were expected he brought his daughter with him to see if she could be of help in the kitchen so that other staff could rest. She hadn't expected to be asked to serve the queen tonight. How exciting! It was such a privilege and an honor. Her mother would be in awe when she told her of such an experience.

When they arrived in the bedroom the queen disrobed. The teenager was careful with her majesty's garments, but she was surprised that there were not many others there to wait on the queen. She knew the queen had a lady-in-waiting to serve as her mistress of wardrobe. As she hung up the ruby red gown that the queen was wearing she marveled at the rest of her outfits. Jewel colored robes laid with diamonds and pearls and satin sashes and silk drapes. It made the young woman feel uncomfortable for her plain clothing. She was only wearing a simple brown frock. That was not appropriate attire to greet one's queen in.

Her unease, was unnecessary, for the Queen of Asgard was as lovely as she was kind. She had had chances to interact with some of the other nobles who made the trek from the Imperial City to the Southern Palace and not all had the Queen's winning demeanor. Many were demanding and dismissive of servants. She tried not to judge them harshly. After all they had been there, they had seen the Imperial City attacked. They'd see the dark-Elves drive their warships into the tall spires of the Imperial Palace. They'd watched as things burned and golden bricks toppled from the sky and statues toppled. They'd heard the screams of the people as blasters shot through the air. They'd seen their loved ones be sent out on the forever see and fade into the heavens. She guessed her attitude would be dismissive as well.

But Queen Frigga talked with her. Frigga asked her handmaiden for the evening many questions about her family and friends. Pita stuttered at first, but the queen's manner was so easy-going and familiar that soon the conversation flowed as if she were talking to an aunt or family friend. She told the wife of Odin of her many siblings. She was the 5th daughter in her family of 7 daughters. She asked Pita of her ambitions and Pita told her of her desire to be a storyteller or bard and Frigga said that she could see that as the young woman had delighted her with anecdotes about her family and their life. And Pita was all giggles as she was afforded such a marvelous compliment by the Wife of Odin.

The queen asked Pita if she had a suitor. Pita couldn't help but blush a bit at her royal woman's question. Her first thought was to respond no, but it must be some crime to lie to the Queen of Asgard so she told her yes. She told her of the boy, Dain the son of a spice merchant who she sometimes saw. Her father did allow her to officially court anyone, but she figured she could claim him as her suitor.

Pita ran the queen's bathwater. She applied the lilac oils that were left on the queen's vanity to the tub and filled it with suds. She also added some bath salts and cream so that the bath was the most luxurious. When Queen Frigga stepped inside the tub.

Afterward Pita turned down the silk bed sheets on the queen's bed and fluffed her pillows. Pita dowsed the lights of the lanterns and candles in the room so that the queen could rest properly. She lit the fire place so that the room was warm and toasty and placed a cool glass of water by the queen's bedside. "I can stay with you through the night to attend to you, Your Majesty," the child offered.

"You have been of great comfort to me, my dear," Frigga stated with an affectionate smile at the young girl. "You have been of more than enough help to me for the night, I think I can manage," she insisted.

"Twould not seem fitting, Your highness that I should leave, you may have a need later on in the evening that I can assist you with. Even if it is just to fetch you another glass of water. I would gladly do it," the Asgardian girl expressed and gave the queen a bow.

"You need not do any more for me, child, but I do so enjoy your company," she admitted. "As a mother of sons I very rarely had the chance to gab about such things as suitors," she sniggered daintily between her fingers, "But it a conversation, to my liking,," she winked her sapphire blue eyes. "You may stay if you wish," she gestured to one of the small settees in her room and offered it as a place for the young woman to sleep.

Soon the room was dark and Queen Frigga and young Pita both laid down to rest. Young Pita got up a few times during the night though. "Pita are you, alright child?" asked Queen Frigga her voice was slightly groggy, she had just started to drift off to sleep but the sounds of the young woman's feet traipsing across the floor had rallied her.

Pita froze and immediately fell on her face by the queen's bed. "I am so sorry, my queen,' she apologized as she kept her face pressed against the floor. "i did not mean to disturb you," she muttered.

The queen swung her feet out of the bed and came to stand by the child. She stooped down on the floor and allowed her graceful fingers to touch the child's back. "It is nothing to apologize for, I merely was wondering was something troubling you, that one so young would have trouble sleeping?' the queen inquired. Slowly, Pita lifted her head. Some of her brown hairs were stuck on her cheeks plastered to her tears. The youngster's unpainted, pink lips were quivering fiercely. She started to swipe at her eyes. She shook her head. She had no business burdening the Queen of the realm with her problems. The queen had been kind enough to indulge her girlish talk, but still she shouldn't burden her. Still, as Pita looked into the face of the wife of Odin she saw something that was so kind and sincere and trusting. Something that reminded her of her own mother, although her mother looked nothing like the all-mother.

"Oh Majesty,' Pita started to blubber. "I'm...I'm...I'm just so afraid," she admitted.

"Afraid?" Queen Frigga looked around. "Afraid of what?' she inquired as she helped the serving girl sit up.

"Of...of...of," Pita hiccuped and hesitated to say more, but somehow the words escaped her lips. "Ragnarok!" she whispered and then clapped her hands over her lips. She wasn't supposed to say it. No one was supposed to say it. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I sorry," Pita echoed as she started to weep.

Instinctively, the Queen of Asgard pulled the girl toward her. Queen Frigga's hands were soft and warm and gentle. She placed the girl against her chest and didn't mind as the child wept there. Naturally, she started to sway a bit. "Shh, shh" she cooed in the young woman's ear.

Pita trembled against the highest woman in the land. "Are we all going to die?' the young maiden asked as she looked up at the ruler. Her big eyes were filled with water and fear. "Who told you that?" Frigga asked as she ran her fingers through messy chocolate locks.

"Everyone knows! I have heard the stories...I...I know Ragnarok is the end of all things and now it's here."

"it is not here," the queen corrected.

"All those stories," Pita continued not hearing the queen's words. "i heard them ever since I was young, but I never thought that it would happen. I never thought that it would truly come to pass. And if it did...I didn't think it would be in my lifetime. "I thought I'd have a chance to grow up," Pita started to cry harder. "I'll never get to get married or having a wedding, have children. I'll never even be able to become a storyteller or bard," the girl closed her eyes and shook her head. When she opened them again the liquid fell hotter and faster. "It's not fair it is so miserably unfair!' she wailed.

"Oh Pita, my dear you will!" the queen assured her. She took the girl's tanned cheeks in her hands and looked her in her tearful eyes.

"But how, my queen?" the young woman inquired. "The Dark-Elves are still out there, are they not?" she asked. The queen responded in the affirmative. "Convergence is only a day away...how...how?" she mumbled.

"With hope, Pita...Hope." The queen spoke. "You must have hope through all circumstances," the queen explained. "You must swear to me as your queen that you will not abandon hope," Frigga commanded. Her hands slid from the girl's cheeks and to her shoulders. She held Pita firmly. "Promise me." Pita didn't know how she could keep such a promise, but she was in no position to refuse the command of the queen so she nodded. "What you do not know and what no one save myself and few chosen other, is that right now Prince Thor and a battalion of 50 of the noblest Einherjar and Prince Loki..."

"Loki!" the young maiden shrieked. Nose curling and face pinched as she poised her lips ready to spit as was the custom of most people in these part when that despicable, disowned ex-prince was mentioned. She had a wad of spit poised on her tongue and she was ready to hurl it to the floor, but she looked down at the white carpet made of some of the finest fleece in all the land and she realized she couldn't spit on the plush rug. She looked up at the Queen's eyes. Those gorgeous cobalt orbs seemed somehow hurt, but her reaction. Immediately Pita regretted her deportment. Loki was a monster to her, but after all he was the queen's son. The teenaged girl swallowed the saliva in her mouth in a great gulp. "Forgive me, Your Majesty," the brown eyed servant girl started.

The Royal woman's hand stretched out quieting the apology. She knew well what the populace thought of her younger son. She supposed they were entitled to their opinions. They knew no better than to think of him as they did. He hadn't given them much cause to in recent years. He'd become something wicked and vile, something to be feared, someone that the people couldn't trust. But how quickly the citizens forgot that he wasn't always like that. Once he'd been a diplomatic, eloquent son of Odin an enchanter more powerful than any the realm had ever known. He'd been the Chamberlain of Education and had worked hard to give funds so that new schools and universities could be built throughout the realm so that even the poorest children could attend. They didn't understand that the atrocious deeds that her son had committed and yes they were very wicked. There was no way that she could deny that, but he they had been the actions of a child hurt and desperate for attention. And for a boy so starved for recognition being being famous and being notorious were synonymous. There was no need to explain such things to the young girl who was serving her tonight though. She was confused enough as it was. "The point is that they have gone to fight the Dark-Elves," the queen stated as she returned to the original conversation.

Pita's bright brown eyes blinked rapidly. "Have gone where?" she questioned.

"To Svartalfheim," the queen whispered.

Pita gasped. "Do you really think Prince Thor and the Einherjar can stop this, my lady?"

"Oh yes!" she nodded confidently, "And I will continue to think that until I see the sky blackened by the Aether," she told her.

"As will I, Your majesty, as will I," Pita swore. Queen Frigga's loving arms embraced the girl tightly.

"Come let us to bed," she said to the child. Pita nodded and rose to her feet as she went to the sleeping couch that the queen had given her and soon both were sleep.

The hours settled in and Queen Frigga had been sleeping soundly when all of a sudden she was jolted from her sleepy by hands roughly shaking her away. The queen's eyes blinked rapidly as they tried to adjust to the fain candlelight being held over her head. "Krystine?" she croaked as she rubbed her eyes and took in the appearance of one of her ladies-in-waiting. "Good heavens, my dear is everything alright?" she asked as she gathered her blankets about her.

Krystine shook her head. "No, no I fear not, my lady," she muttered.

"What is it?" Queen Frigga asked breathlessly as she squinted into the candlelight trying to make out the chambermaid's distressed features. Queen Frigga placed one finger over her lips while another finger pointed to the slumbering youth on the settee.

"It is His Majesty, the king," the lady-in-waiting responded she tried to keep her voice down, but she seemed to be failing miserably.

"The King!" the queen practically yelped. She flung her feet from the bed, not bothering to ask for her slippers. "Take me to him," she ordered and she and her serving woman made haste for the healing chamber where Odin rested only a few doors down the hall.

When Frigga arrived the Odin's chamber was a beehive of activity as the healers buzzed about him. Everything was frantic, there was shouting and rushing, water flying and lights growing, She watched with bated breath as hands groped at the king stripping him of his tunics and pulling at him and prodding at him. There was a faint hum of one of the medical instruments that the healers used to check for his energy readings.

"Your Majesty!" Healer Onrac rushed toward the queen.

'What has happened?" Frigga asked as she watched the frenzy. "Is the all-father alright?" the queen asked as she rose on her tip-toes and tried to look over the master healer's shoulder to see what was going on with her husband, but far too many bodies surrounded him.

"I don't know," the healer replied his handsome earth brown face was nearly pale, sweat poured all over his skin. "it all happened so suddenly, Your majesty," he tried to explain as he panted. "I...He spiked a fever only a few hours ago," he began explain. "Dangerously high at that,' he continued.

Frigga shook her head. "I do not understand you said his fever had gone down."

"it had, but it returned with fury. We've tried cooling him, but his temperature remains," Onrac stated.

"Let me see him," the queen stated as she tried to step around the tall man dressed in a plain white toga.

Healer Onrac held out his strong brown hands and held the queen in place keeping her from getting around him. "majesty, there is more," he explained. "He went into cardiac arrest..."

"WHAT!" Frigga screamed grabbing her ears. "What?" she gasped as she stumbled backward nearly tripping over the train of her long, white nightgown. Her sky blue eyes looked up at the royal physician with horror. "No! No!" she protested. in a whispered. "Odin?' she mumbled.

Healer Onrac pulled the queen's hands away from her ears. "He still lives Queen Frigga," Onrac reported. A look of utter relief washed over the wife of Odin's face as tears spilled from her cheeks as she stated at the healer, "We were able to revive him, but in the process he had had several seizures." Onrac elaborated.

Queen Frigga's feet faltered as she took a few weak steps backward. "My Queen!" called out Krystine She immediately took hold of the Frigga's arms to make sure that she didn't fall over. "My lady, you must sit," she admonished as she slowly guided the queen toward a seat. Gingerly the lady-in-waiting lowered the queen's bottom on to the seat. The Queen of Asgard kept her hand on her heart as she sat and stared around the panicked room.

"Odin has never had a seizure during the Oversleep before," she confessed.

'I am aware," Onrac sighed. "I...I...I don't know what to do for him my queen," he confessed.

"let me go to him, Onrac," the Queen ordered as she managed to rise back to her feet.

'Please, Your Highness, he is not stable. I don't know what this means." Onrac breathed. Frigga's heard was pounding and her breathing was labored. "Let us try to stabilize him and cause these dreadful tremors to cease.," he implored her. "i cannot imagine what has caused such an unprecedented reaction, when the King was resting well, but I wand my staff will get to the bottom of it majesty," Onrac assured her.

"In the Oversleep the all-father can still see all that transpires around him," Frigga stated.

'Yes, My lady, his mental scans were extremely high as his fever rose, but fever dreams can have such an effect," the healer hypothesized.

"Twas not dreams that caused Odin's heart to stop, only a vision of utter calamity could have caused the king to have such a deadly reaction in the Oversleep,"