He stood at the top of the staircase and gave his attire a glance over in the glass windows on the wall nearby; he found himself handsome, the mortals had a flair for fashion he could say that much about them. The observation quickly left his mind however as he began to descend the stairs. His focus was firmly on the tasks at hand.

It had taken Sigyn no time at all to know what was happening at the museum. She leapt off the roof of the jeep as it sped past the front entrance of the museum. She mercifully was able to maintain her invisibility as she rolled onto the ground, then rushed unseen through the front doors and past the well dressed guests in the hall. Her eyes swept the crowd for Loki. It was a testament to the oblivious nature of the party's attendees that no one noticed when she appeared in their midst, seemingly out of thin air; she felt her energy draining, and reasoned she would need as much of it as she could manage to fight against whatever Loki had planned for these people. She ignored the quizzical expressions of the women and slack jawed gawking that the men sent in her direction. A skintight suit looked uncomfortable and wholly out of place at this gala event, but in reality it was a uniform perfectly suited to the unpredictable and physicality driven work of SHIELD agents.

Loki was leisurely descending the staircase in his easy and nonchalant way while Sigyn had only made it to about the middle of the hall, built of white stone and glass and filled with priceless valuables; relics of the human world. She watched him come, a staff in his hand with a familiar blue glow, and hurried her pace through the crowd. She recognized the look on his face and cringed as he stepped off the final stair and sent his staff crashing into the head of the guard who stood nearby. The frenzy that surrounded her was immediately like a sea of terrified mortals that enveloped her, making it nearly impossible to go in the direction they fled from.

His preoccupation with his purpose for disrupting the party made him completely unaware of the presence of his wife in the room. He snatched the doctor he sought from the podium he stood upon and slammed him forcefully onto the nearest display case, a marble table. Sigyn watched in horror and frustration as she attempted to elbow and push her way through the terrified crowd. She froze those in her immediate way in their tracks and pushed their still bodies to the side, the others in the rapidly emptying hall took no time to notice.

She was dismayed by the sight of Loki extracting an eyeball from the man he'd pinned to the table but she recovered quickly. She unfroze those she'd paralyzed and listened as they sped out into the streets. She felt a familiar warm surge through her body as she grabbed her husband by his shoulder and pushed him to the ground, knocking the device he'd jammed into the man's eye out of his hand as she did so. She looked upon the poor human, his motionless body sprawled across the table and wondered what if anything she could do for him. Loki, stunned at her strength and her presence in the room, stood and shook himself off. There was homicidal rage in his eyes, he grabbed Sigyn by her hair and yanked her roughly away from the body pushing her to the floor.

They met eyes for a moment before they both lunged for the device. Sigyn kicked Loki across the floor a bit before he reached it. He grabbed her foot and dragged her back as she tried to grasp it. She rolled onto her back and kicked him in his forehead, he crawled atop her, trying to pin her down with his staff. She placed both her hands on it and tried to wrestle it out of his hands.

They rolled all over the white granite floor, which sparkled and gleamed beneath them in the bright light of the museum hall. They struggled, pushing and pulling and yanking the scepter between them. Sigyn growled and bit Loki's fingers. He loosened his grip on the scepter long enough for her to snatch it away. She resisted the urge to bash his head in with it, instead she kneed him in the stomach as hard as she could and rolled from under him.

As she stood she looked down at the spear, into its blue light. The metal of it suddenly burned white hot in her hand, the gloves did nothing to stop the burns she felt. Loki took her moment of weakness as an opportunity. He called the spear to him with magic and with a wave of his hand sent Sigyn into the air, throwing her across the room.

She hit the white stone wall with force that sent a deafening crack though the now empty hall. She slid to the floor and stood slowly, attributing the lack of pain she felt to adrenalin and shock. Her left arm dangled at an odd angle at her side, she did not see or feel it. Her body shook with emotion, her heart pounded and her head throbbed. She strode back across the room to where he stood.

He stooped to lift his device from the ground; Sigyn hid it from his sight at the last instant and called it to her, holding it out to him with the hand she could move and control.

"Here it is, your majesty.'

"Give it to me, Woman."

"Come and take it."

"It is of little consequence now anyway. I've got what I need from it."

"Well then. "

She grasped the device and then reopened her hand, the shattered pieces of it fell to the ground like shards of glass. Loki rolled his eyes and glared at her. She smiled, feeling blood trickle down her forehead as she did so. She hated to bleed. She resented deeply the fact that he had made her bleed.

Before she knew what happened she sent a wave of pure energy in his direction, throwing him into the staircase behind him. He rose from it, she ducked as he fired his staff in her direction; a second blast narrowly missed her head. She shook the ground he stood upon as he prepared to fire again. The shaking was violent; he held onto the rail of the stairs with one hand and held his staff with the other. His body swayed as the ground quaked and jolted everything in the room except for Sigyn. The walls began to crack, the ceiling began to fall in large pieces around them, and all Loki could do was marvel at the power of his wife, even as she stood before him broken and bleeding.

As he lost his balance he fell to his knees, he saw the cracks in the walls deepen, and knew the foundation of the building was shaking apart.

"Sigyn! The building is falling! You'll kill us both if you don't stop this!"

She came to her senses and realized this was pure rage emanating from her body. The quake stopped just long enough for Loki to regain his footing. Suddenly she was upon him, her hand around his throat, clenching it tightly between her still gloved fingers. He had never experienced her wrath before; she was formidable in that moment.

He overcame his awe and backhanded her with his free hand, she stumbled a bit, her hand still clenched on his throat. She spoke in a voice he didn't recognize.

"Surely you can do better than that, Your Majesty."

He transformed his staff back into a spear and pressed its tip into her side, she ignored it, grasping his neck more tightly and raising him a bit off the ground. His eyes widened as he attempted to speak.

"You made vows to me. You swore yourself to me...forev-"

She gripped his neck tighter to shut him up, she locked eyes with him and watched as the glow in them dimmed. He placed his free hand tightly around her neck, letting go with a silent scream as his fingers burned at the touch of her skin. She smiled at his facial expression.

And then she felt it, the sharp pain of the spear piercing deeply into her side. She loosened her grip on his neck, her expression bewildered as his eyes narrowed into a shocked expression of his own. The scepter shook forcefully in his hand; though he tried he could not pull it out. As it shook the blade traveled deeper and deeper into her side. She clenched his shoulder with the hand of her unbroken arm and began to fall. She grit her teeth together, he held her in his arms as he caught her, leading her gently to the ground. The scepter's light flickered and as her blood spilled on to it nearly dimmed all together, it stopped shaking long enough for Loki to pull it out. She cried out softly as he did. He looked down on her, now helpless and bleeding profusely. He watched her eyelids lower and her breathing slow. He waited a moment, expecting himself to break down and be overcome with emotion.

But he didn't. He was detached. Sigyn was lying on the floor dying and he felt indifferent. He waved a hand over the scepter and cleaned away the blood. It immediately glowed bright blue again. He felt relieved to see its brightness return.

"You should have stayed out of it, woman. I warned you."

He turned and walked across the hall, his eyes focused on the crowd that gathered outside.

She could no longer ignore the pain in her entire body, the shock and adrenalin had worn off. She laid on her back and held her hand over the wound, blood poured through her fingers. The wound did not heal. Her head was light, her heartbeat slowed, her body began to feel oddly heavy. She was too weak to appropriate. She her eyes began to lose focus, she felt very tired and suddenly freezing cold. She remembered the look on his face as he stared down at her. He was indifferent to what happened to her now. She realized she no longer cared very much about him either. It all seemed so unimportant now; their happiness and devotion were just feelings, their moments together were just memories and their vows to one another were just words. She mustered what energy she could and drug herself painstakingly across the floor, stopping at the body of the doctor. With great effort and a frustrated grunt she pulled the body, heavy with dead weight, to the floor next to her, and breathed heavily with exhaustion as she tore his shirt from his body.

She remembered the wounds James had suffered in the alley, and how they'd slowed the bleeding then long enough for him to make it to the hospital before he died. As she ripped the shirt before her and stuffed the pieces as deeply as she could into her wound she bit her lip at the excruciating pain. Her body shivered, still cold and weak, but she was spurred on by the screams she heard from outside; she saw flashes of light in the windows, and worried for the people. Loki was insane and on a mission, she doubted there was any force on Earth that could stop him.

But she had to try, for she believed with all her heart that eventually the humans would fight back and she would be at their side fighting with them if she could. She tied the remaining strips of the fabric around her wound and laid on her back on the floor. She waited for her energy to return, it did not. She held her hand over the wound, expecting it to heal, it did not. She sighed, her one arm still dangling from her side, her entire body in excruciating pain. It mattered very little. She stood up slowly from the ground and leaned against the glass case. Her eyes wandered around the room, taking in the damage she'd done. The walls and floors were cracked, littered with pieces of the ceiling and the relics that had fallen during her quake. One relic in particular caught her eye, a broadsword laid upon the ground, the metal of its blade deep ebony black that gleamed as the light touched it. Its handle was a striking silver, it's emblem a skull, with blood red sapphires where its sunken eyes should have been. She recognized Nightsword immediately, though she knew it could not be real; Hela would never allow her precious blade out of her sight for a moment, let alone allow it to be upon the Earth and let the Earth go on spinning.

She limped slowly towards it, kneeling to lift it with great effort. She had never wielded a sword in her life. Now she intended to do it with one hand and as she bled to death. She shakily held it up before her and then readjusted her footing. She remembered the jabs Steve had taught her, and more importantly the hook. She imagined the sword, heavy and sharp, as just an extension of her hand, a fist more deadly than her natural one. She smirked.

She stood as straight as she could and walked out of the hall, twirling the sword by its handle in circles and leaving drops of blood on the floor in her wake.

Loki looked over the crowd of people and spoke in a tone he thought they would appreciate. Now that they all kneeled before him he could address them properly. He felt the warmth of his scepter, the glow of its light now radiating through his body; it made it clear to him what to say.

"Is this not simpler?" He asked, walking slowly through the crowd who cowered at his feet. He grinned his reassurance to them; as long as they obeyed they would not be harmed. "Is this not your natural state? It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. "

Sigyn made her way slowly down the many stairs towards him, her eyes full of murderous intent as they bored into his back. No one noticed the bleeding woman with the huge sword limping towards the scene; they were all focused on the Lokis that surrounded them at every turn.

"The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity." He continued, as she approached Sigyn could imagine the smug grin on his face; she limped a little faster, her eyes trained at the tiny peek of pale flesh she could see at the back of his neck. She twirled the sword a little faster and limped as quickly as she could manage, motivated by the image of that golden horned head rolling at her feet. "You were made to be ruled. In the end you will always kneel."

There was only a ledge and a few more stairs between her and Loki. She grimaced at his last words to the crowd, at the weakness he showed by taunting these powerless beings with his superiority. A god using humans as playthings, striking fear into their fragile hearts unprovoked was a sight that turned her stomach once again. She felt the respect she'd once had for her husband leave her, almost as literally as the blood that trickled down her body.

She started to hurry her pace with the little energy she had left, but instead stopped all together at the sight before her. She saw an average sized man, an older gray haired gentleman, stand from the crowd. Her heart rose and immediately sank with worry. She was motionless as the man spoke.

"Not to men like you."

His face was resolved, a bit disgusted and his tone was strong and heroic. Sigyn looked upon him in awe. She came back to her senses as she heard Loki's voice. He mocked the man, smirking as he replied to the earnest bravery of the noble human.

"There are no men like me."

She rolled her eyes, trying to remember how she had ever loved anyone arrogant enough to actually say those words. She knew from his tone that Loki intended to harm the man, that he would use him as an example, she moved as quickly as she could towards him, a few eyes lingered on her as she approached, including the eyes of the brave old man. She mouthed 'stay calm' to those who looked to her; they nodded their understanding unbeknownst to Loki or his clones.

"There are always men like you."

Said the man, not missing a beat at Sigyn's approach. She frowned as she tried to move even faster, ignoring the sharp and jarring pains in her wound as she felt the bandages around her body loosening. She was no wear near close enough to come between Loki and the man. She resisted the urge to call to him as he spoke and raised his scepter. The air in the night was cool, the street dark and the crowd silent. Loki spoke in a non-chalant tone in the rigid and tense atmosphere he'd created. But Sigyn lost sight of all of it as the scene reeled before her.

"Look to your elder people. Let him be an example."

She collapsed to the ground as the crowd gasped. She lifted herself to her hands and knees just in time to see a blur of red white and blue, a bright light, and then Loki landing on his back a few feet away from her. He was too shocked to notice her there. Sigyn looked to the direction of the blur.

She almost laughed to see him standing there, but like Loki he didn't notice her in the crowd. He was too preoccupied with approaching Loki.

"You know the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing."

She closed her eyes tightly at the sound of his voice. She lifted herself into a kneeling position and inched herself closer to where they stood.

"The Soldier. The man out of time."

"I'm not the one who's out of time."

The whir of engines sounded as a SHIELD aircraft hovered above them. Agent Romanoff's voice echoed into the streets. Loki ignored her order to drop his weapon, fired his scepter at the aircraft, took Steve's shield to the gut and began to fight him hand to hand.

Sigyn stood to her feet and motioned for the crowd to move out of the way. Romanoff eyed the injured SHIELD agent from the aircraft, wondering who else Fury would have sent in on their own. The woman limped and drug a sword with the one hand she could move. She stifled her curiosity and went back to the task at hand.

Loki commanded Steve to kneel, Steve roundhouse kicked him. Loki once again pinned Steve to the ground and took a moment to gloat.

"I've wanted to kill you for quite a while now, Steve."

He placed the scepter to Steve's chest and as he rambled on, Sigyn broke from the crowd and rushed up from behind. She placed the cold metal tip of the broadsword on the one exposed bit of flesh at his neck. She pressed the sharp point lightly into his skin, and immediately saw a drop of red against the black blade.

"You die where you stand, once and for all, if you harm him in any way."

He flared his nostrils and sighed in frustration. Suddenly loud and rambunctious music filled the air. Sigyn saw Loki tense, anticipating a distraction he could use to his advantage, she moved the blade in a flash from the nape of his neck, to the front of his throat and pinned his body against hers. As Steve stood and collected himself, he froze. Even in the bloody condition she was in he recognized her, he would know that face anywhere.

Despite being pinned between Sigyn and Nightsword, Loki still held fast to his scepter. The source of the music landed next to a flabbergasted Steve. Sigyn squinted her eyes and contorted her face into a quizzical expression; a metal man stood before her. He looked like a guard from the wandering plane, or perhaps even the Tin Man from Oz, but neither one of them could fly she thought to herself. Her mind was lingering on things that were absurd; delirium was setting in.

"Stand down, Nikita." Said the metal man, as he exposed the arsenal of weaponry cleverly hidden inside his body. Sigyn gladly released her hold on Loki and backed slowly to the side and out of the way, leaning on Nightsword for support as her body suddenly weakened and her heart beat began to slow. "Make a move, reindeer games."

Sigyn was unsurprised to see Loki surrender, removing his armor and relenquishing his spear. Her eyes wandered to Steve, who's eyes darted from Sigyn to Loki and back to Sigyn, his confused expression softening as he saw the blood dripping from her waist.

"Mr. Stark."

He said, absentmindedly as he started towards Sigyn.

"Captain."

Replied the Tin Man. Sigyn smiled as she thought of the Tin Man. She was suddenly back in the theater with Steve watching the silver man sing about his heart. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she felt herself falling.

"Sigyn!"

Cried Steve.

"Who?"

Asked Tony.

"The Phenomenon?"

Said Natasha, her voice intrigued.

"Miss Romanoff we need to get her aboard the aircraft, right now."

"Of course."

A/N: I know its short. I'm trying to write shorter chapters to update the story more often, hope you don't mind. Thanks for the follows and faves. Comments help me write me better so feel free to post whatever you think.