Task #3: Defeat The Nornir
Summary:
In which Asta and Loki face the daunting task of defeating the Three Sisters. Easy Peasy. Oh, and Thor has to hold off Ragnarok. No problem!
Notes:
Trigger warning for fairly visceral battlefield violence.
Chapter Text
Alas, because no joyful moment can hold suspended forever, it was only moments before a gale force wind began tearing over the green water. Everyone's heads jerked up from their embrace as a keening soared through the air, a shriek of rage that demanded blood.
"The Nornir come." Hammond said sadly. He stood in front of Asta as Harvardr did the same to Loki. "They will not touch you," Harvardr said coldly.
"My sons, we love you, but your father and I have dealings with the Three Sisters." Their mother gently pulled from her son's protection. "And you, my beloved boys, have a far more important role to play."
Loki could see how torn the twins were, looking at their parents in clear distress, then back to each other. "Hammond! Harvardr!" the prince spoke sharply as the twins were slow to end their silent conversation and look at him. "The final battle is already raging, and given that your Uncle is likely in charge, there is no time to waste!" Asta smothered a smile, watching her husband draw himself up into the imperious, arrogant prince who always got what he demanded. Loki called sharply, "Fryktløs!" Bracing his booted feet as the winds howled closer, he waved to his sons. "On Fryktløs and quickly- you must fulfill your role, my sons. The Nine Realms depend on you now."
Hugging their boys hard, Asta forced a smile to get lips. "But we just met you again," Hammond said mournfully.
"There is still work to be done here. You must go." Rising on tiptoe to kiss his soft cheek, she whispered, "We'll be along. You and your brother watch out for each other." The rising shrieks grew closer, and Loki shoved his sons aboard the neighing Fryktløs, clearly agitated, clomping down one giant hoof, then the other.
Leaning close to that massive black head, Loki spoke urgently. "We are all here in this moment, for this reason, my friend. I beg you- take our sons from here to Asgard. I must ask it of you, brother- please!" The animal regarded the Prince for a moment, then reared back, kicking his front legs out. If the son of the Horse God flew, no one could say how, only that a streak of light blazed across the landscape, and his horse and their sons were simply gone. Asta tugged at his arm, pointing up. Like a reverse meteor, the jagged bolt of light shot upwards.
Thor found himself knee-deep in Demon limbs and shattered chunks of the Undead. Asta's prediction that the dwarves would be cannon fodder proved correct. Despite their marvelous weapons and fine armor, the dwarves were no match for the Elven troops, who took the first position, along with Thor's unit and Odin's. The brief flash of hope as they decimated the second wave was quelled as the remaining Dark Elves not loyal to Alaryah swept through his men, crushing them easily. The terrible Undead fell on the Aesir warriors, swords knocking them to the ground and tearing bloody chunks of their flesh. Still chewing mechanically, the walking corpses turned for their next meal. Even the mighty Light Elves were dragged under by a dozen of the creatures, torn to pieces from the Undead's ravenous hunger
Thor swung Mjölnir fiercely, trying to protect as many of his soldiers as he could. Stumbling over the bodies of his own men, he heard a shrill tone over the noise of battle, so high and piercing it felt like his brain would leak out his ears. The Demons screamed in rage and pain at the noise. Suddenly, Alaryah's unit was beside his again, cutting down their brothers and ripping them to pieces. Thor suddenly realized why Alaryah insisted on red armor- so her soldiers could tell who the enemy was. Though Elves were known to fight silently and without expression, he could see the grief and remorse twist her lovely mouth as she decimated her own people.
But as many as they killed, stumbling among the piles of the dead to challenge the living and the Undead, there were always more monstrosities to take their place. Thor could see they were being driven back, step by step to the walls of Asgard. If Surtur breached those gates, it was over. Asgard would fall, and every Realm thereafter. A high, terrified whinny sounded close by, and the firstborn of Odin turned to see his father's horse fall, sending the Allfather crashing to the ground. And close- so close was the Demon King Surtur, slashing through the defense and his own men alike to get to the fallen leader. Thor roared with rage and frustration, still too far away to help.
Then, as if the black sky split open, huge forms came crashing onto the battlefield, blue swords raised. King Laufey and his Frost Giants had joined the fight.
Asta reached behind her and pulled the Is Sverd from its scabbard. "Loki, we must corner them in the Well- they cannot come to us!" she gasped urgently. "Can you take us there?"
Squeezing her hands urgently with his, Loki nodded. "Help me picture it- as vividly as you can." Struggling to keep standing as the winds punished them, the two closed their eyes, gritting their teeth in the effort.
When Asta's eyes opened, she found them in a huge room covered in coarse gray yarn, exquisite embroidery silks and serviceable cords of all colors. Before them flowed the great Tapestry- an endless river of shade and pattern that flowed on and on, far beyond what she could see. A pained howl from Loki made her spin around to see a massive, rusted sewing needle jammed through his collarbone to get past his armor. The stinking bundle of rags holding it was shoving down with all her might, trying to reach his heart. Urd was hissing like a snake, "Stupid creature daring to challenge us! We'll rip you to pieces and feed you both to Jorumund!"
It took a second to race to the struggling figures, Asta raising the Jötunn sword to slice at Urd's scaly form. The Norn screamed, falling back as the blue blade ripped through her body. Loki hissed, pulling the long needle up and out of his chest, shoving it into the crone's left eye. The crone wailed shrilly and thrashed violently, rolling away from them, screeching "Siiisteeers! The things hurt meee!" Loki staggered up, clutching his bleeding shoulder to see his wife scrambling over the tapestry, desperately searching for something. Biting his lip as he wrapped a piece of his shirt over the bleeding wound and staggered after her. Asta was frantically rubbing something on to the threads leading into the latest part of the pattern. A huge hand reached out and grasped her hair, yanking violently backward and tearing the Progeny's thrashing body up and out of sight. Landing on a pile of jagged rocks, she desperately gripped the Jötunn sword as the twisted face of Verandi leaned over her.
"Bitch! Hurting the sister! I'll tear you in half!" The furious hag's clawed fingers slashed at Asta's cheek, ripping open four bloody furrows in the girl's cheek. Screaming, she drew up her sword, slashing at Verandi. Loki scrambled to help her, stepping over the thrashing, wailing form of Urd, still trying to pull the needle from her eye.
Asta spared him a glance and shook her head. "No! You must stop Skuld before she cuts Hammond and Harvardr's cords! She threads the future!" She was knocked back by another swipe from a shrieking Verandi- but this time, her claws struck Asta's sword arm and bounced off the violet patterns on her skin as if the girl was wearing armor. "Of course..." Asta groaned, parrying again and trying to cut the crone off at the knees as she concentrated, sending the violet markings of her husband's Jötunn self everywhere on her skin, making the Norn's attack weaker. The tiny, desiccated bodies of the Sisters seemed so frail, like the dried husk of an insect. But the crones' strength was terrible, manhandling even the seven-foot Loki like a child. Verandi's talon jabbed at Asta's face with a curse, and the bloody claw marks opened wider, blood streaking faster down her white face, pouring over her neck and chest.
Loki's long legs ate up the distance between him and the third sister, who was scrabbling over the tapestry with her deadly scissors in hand. One huge hand flashed out with a viciously sharp dagger- he was so close- he could stop that wizened bitch and she would never hurt their- "HALT!" the triumphant howl of Skuld stopped everyone short in their struggles. Her claw was clutching her horrid rusty shears, gigantic and rusted as if blood were dripping down the blades. "How DARE you enter here! Do you alter our weaving? Do you struggle against your fate? You are nothing!" Skuld was screaming now, a giant vein pulsing in her forehead, knuckles white as she gripped the scissors meant to cut their sons from the future. "You are mayflies to us! We will have Ragnarok!" Loki held both hands up, trying to placate the Norn. Asta's shaking hands held firm on the Is Sverd, though the blood loss was beginning to make her vision dim. She forced herself to take some of her flagging strength and close the wound. "So," Skuld grinned triumphantly, exposing three hideous, black teeth. "We give you the choice, insects. Cut your cords? Or your sons?"
There was not a second's hesitation as they replied together. "Ours."
A ragged cheer rose up from the armies from the Free Realms as the Frost Giants began to slash their fearsome way through the enemy. Their blue swords sparked and sputtered light as the black blood covering them flew off, only to send the clean blade back into another. Thor renewed his fight to his father, Odin fighting on his own as his guard was slaughtered. King Laufey was closer, and the God of Thunder groaned as the Frost Giant's red eyes fell on the Allfather's predicament. Surely, he would stand back and watch his enemy's demise or even assist. Odin stole his son, held him, hostage, ripped away the body of his wife before Laufey could mourn her. There was a pause, then the blue King spun his sword and started cutting his way to the Allfather. "No!" groaned Thor, Laufey had every right, but not now, not when they're facing the end- "Not now!" he cried, voice hoarse with anguish. He frantically swiped Mjölnir right and left, trying to move closer as he watched the Demon Surtur approach from Odin's front, King Laufey to his back. All sound blocked from his mind, only the hazy, bloody images in front of him registering as he tried to stop the inexorable death of his father come closer and closer. King Surtur was howling- an insane jackal's voice as he raised his jagged sword to engage Odin, already fighting three others. But behind the besieged King of Asgard swung an impossibly long, blue arm, swiping viciously at Surtur and driving him back.
"Coward!" screamed the Demon. "Joining with the weak! You could have been a God in our world!" He parried frantically, black blood flying as he sought to overcome the Frost Giant.
But King Laufey sliced Surtur's sword arm clean from his body, the demon squealing in shock and pain. A gigantic booted foot slammed down on the Demon King's throat as the blue behemoth towered above him. "I already am a God. And you are the pestilence I wipe clean from this Universe." Surtur's head was severed in a moment, then crushed under that huge boot into pulp.
The death of the Demon King reverberated through the troops- the loss of their leader disorienting the demons and making their command over the dwarves and the Undead scattered. The Ljósálfar warriors renewed their attack on the endless stream of the walking meat, their beautiful faces indifferent and calm. Thor fought his way to shouting distance of the Frost Giant. "KING LAUFEY!" he roared. When the red eyes of the Jötunn fell on him, he bowed his blond head for a moment in respect. "The Undead-" he stuttered, "slice at the base of the skull to fell them."
A thin quirk passed the lips of Laufey, and he nodded back, both of them continuing the fight as Odin struggled to his feet, stunned by his rescue.
"Oh, the love of a father and mother for their children," cooed Skuld in her rusty purr. "So eager to give your life for theirs. Then I will enjoy this all the more. I cut theirs first!" She raised her horrid scissors high, cackling in her excitement. Loki and Asta cried out their desperation to see her lift two lines of silk, shimmering Nile green and twined with each other. But as her rusty blades came down, the slim silk strands refused to separate. Frowning, she tried again, and again. But still, the slender lifelines of their children held intact.
"Loki!" cried Asta, "Hurry! She will find ours to cut next!" Loki leaped over another pile of yarn and raised his blade against the crone, who was scuttling over the tapestry to another design. He tripped over a thick coil of embroidery silk that seemed to twine up from nowhere but threw his dagger as he fell. The vicious blade knocked Skuld off her feet, but she still stabbed at the Prince as he reached her, grappling for the terrible shears. Teeth gritted, Loki endured a stab into his left shoulder and another where the blades sank deep into his thigh. Asta desperately immobilized Verandi with a slash to her wizened legs, making the crone scream. The Progeny bent low, whispering as she focused with all her strength. "You're trapped in your own cords, layers after layers twining around your body, tightening each time you struggle. I do hope they don't crush your lungs... so terrible to not draw a breath..." She felt ashamed of herself, watching Verandi scream and gasp as she struggled against her invisible bonds. But she must hold. They must hold. Yanking her Jötunn blade from the sister and raced for her husband, stumbling over random piles of yarn and cord.
"I have her!" Loki hissed, digging another dagger into Skuld's leathery heart. "Find the lines for the Undead! We have to help Thor if we can."
Asta nodded, frantically running her hands over the tapestry, trying to find the threads that held the black spell. She finally spotted it, a loathsome pitch line, dripping with tar and offal. Raising the Is Sverd above her head, she brought it down on the line with all her strength, turning her face away as spurts of filth flew from the severed yarn.
Nearly every sword stopped for a moment when all the Undead on the massive battlefield dropped like the sacks of meat they were, boneless and returned to a corpse. It was like the invisible cord connecting them was somehow severed. Cheering, the Aesir and their allies fell on the enemy with new intent, driving them ruthlessly back from the palace walls. Hogun and Volstagg fought to reach Thor, Sif, and Fandral flanking Odin as they continued the rout.
The invading forces were in disarray. They still outnumbered the Allies two to one, even without their Undead soldiers. But the brutal finish to their King and General seemed to confuse them, milling like sheep.
For one naive moment, Thor allowed himself to hope, trading grins with Volstagg. This, of course, was a terrible mistake. With an earsplitting crack and the blinding rip through matter, the Mad Titan stepped on to the battlefield. When he spoke, it was unbearable, the screams of children, the wails of the dead, the howls of madmen.
"Excellent." Lofsjar chuckled, the sound making hardened soldiers vomit helplessly, shuddering and groaning. "All of you gathered together. You make my work so very simple." His great arms raised, dwarfing even the Frost Giants as he assumed his true form. "Kneel. Ragnarok comes with your true masters. They will feed on you, cattle. On your women and children. On every good thing in this Universe." Thor and Odin clutched each other, knees like water.
No sane mind could have imagined it. The unspeakable chaos began to swell, roaring over the massive battlefield, demons and Dark Elves falling screaming to their knees. The Allies were no better, the usually silent Hogun screaming in horror, Fandral thrashing wildly in the mud and blood. No one could look- no one could comprehend the boiling rolls of darkness coming at them, studded with horrors that crushed will and thought. The nauseating laugh of the Mad Titan rang out again. "Brothers! Join us for the End To All Things!"
Thor dropped Mjölnir, landing with a thud beside it. King Leafstred was gibbering in horror, long fingers beginning to claw at his beautiful face. Odin was the last man standing, shaking at the terrible black flood about to devour his world.
The gateway to Ragnarok was clear- a jagged tear through the Universe, boiling with arcane spells and energies. So the two boys walking towards it looked even smaller by comparison. But they walked confidently, long black hair blowing behind as they approached the gate. "Loki?" it was a mindless gasp of a word from Thor, trying to rise to his feet.
"Asta-my Progeny..." the Light Elf stepped beside him. The beautiful twins, mirror images of each other and their parents continued to the sparking, boiling mass. Rising to their full eight feet, they showed their Jötunn heritage, drawing a gasp from King Laufey.
"You will not pass." their voices blended as they took the hand of the other, gripping it tightly. Their beautiful harmonics soared over the din, audible to all of Asgard, reverberating to the Realms beyond. "You will not pass. There is no place for you here." The twins continued to rise, ten feet, twenty... "Return to your pit. You will not pass." Thirty feet high, they stood.
The howls and screams from the raging darkness changed, no longer greedy, now discontented and confused. The agony of Lofsjar's voice roared across the battlefield. "Boys? THIS is the prophecy, two pathetic children?" The Mad Titan's laugh sent thousands to their knees again.
The twins turned to face him, hands still clasped in their barrier. "Your time here is past, Old One. You are banished."
When Thor tried to explain the moment later, he could never find the right words.
Lofsjar's laugh stopped instantly as if strangled from his throat. The Mad Titan began folding in on himself- one giant arm flopping into his chest with a hideous "crack!" Next was the other arm. Then both legs, the air filled with the nauseating cracks and pops of shattered bone and torn sinew. The Titan's eyes were huge with the terrible knowledge of what was happening to him until his head viciously ripped down and into his chest, a huge square of writhing, torn flesh spinning faster and faster until it tore loose from the ground and was sucked back into the nightmare void. The twins faced back to the gateway, both heads down and feet planted as if against a mighty wind. Teeth gritted, jaws clenched against the force against them until it all folded in on itself and spun out of existence. The massive rip into their world began to heal, the twins holding up large hands to guide the tattered ends together.
Sight and sound returned to the battlefield as sunlight illuminated them again. Thor, Leafstred, and Laufey gave orders to their men to gather hostages. The Healers raced on to the bloody plain, finding those to be saved. But their leaders could do nothing but stare as the two young men walked to them, huge smiles wreathing their expressive faces. "Grandfather," said Hammond gravely as they gave a deep bow to the Light Elf. Leafstred nodded, throat choked with sobs. The twins turned to the Frost Giant, bowing again. "Grandfather," Harvardr uttered respectfully. King Laufey's jaw dropped, but his red eyes glowed as he nodded back. A brief glance ran between the boys before they faced Odin. "Your Grace..." Hammond's voice was redolent of Loki's silky, mocking undertones. They bowed to a silent Allfather, and turned to greet Queen Frigga, blood streaked across her cheeks from tending the wounded.
The Allmother raised her arms and embraced them both. "My beautiful boys..." her voice was thick with tears.
"Hello, Grandmother." Hammond said with a huge smile as they took turns lifting Frigga off her feet in enthusiastic hugs. Then the twins stepped to Thor with their father's mischievous grin on their lips. "Uncle!" Harvardr said happily, "our father said you were likely in charge and that we had no time to waste."
Thor was aware of the low chuckles around him and shook his head ruefully, embracing his nephews. "You're definitely Loki's sons." After ending the embrace and much clasping of hands and slapping of shoulders, Thor suddenly looked around. "Where are your parents?"