Visitation

by kalimecat

Loki has returned to Asgard and is imprisoned for his crimes. While in prison he has the occasional visitor, will the love of others bring back the fallen prince or is he truly too far gone?

38. What will become of us

A/N: HELLOOOO READERS! HAPPY NEW YEAR! I am sooooo sorry that it has taken me so long to update. I haven't forgotten about you or this story, but life gets busy. Anyway I am still grateful for each and everyone of you who read, follow, favorite and review this story. It is your interest that keeps it going and have strengthened my resolve to never stop writing until the story is done. Anyway this was a hard chapter to write and in some parts I admit I probably got a little longwinded. It's not a perfect chapter, but I hope you enjoy. I hope that God Bless you in the New Year. Happy reads and writes.

Chapter 38

"And what of Lady Sigyn?" Lady Sif protested firmly. "You all just intend to sacrifice her?"

Lord Kelse cleared his throat. "Naturally, the young woman's fate is regrettable," he expressed. His expression was somber as he hung his head and folded his hands in front of his legs. "So much unnecessary loss of life at this time," he went on.

"So that's it!" The shield-maiden barked. "You are really just going to blow her up without a second thought when it is she who has done everything to try to help everyone of us?"

"Lady Sif, I should think that you as an Einherjar, would be in most in favor of this plan. As an Einherjar you have sworn an oath to protect Asgard at all cost. I would think you of all people would see the importance of what we have to do here," stated one of the elders.

"Every second that we stand here and deliberate is one moment less that we have to save our lives," called a noble who escaped with Lord Algrim from the palace. "We can't waste anymore time!"

"We need to get those men who are strong enough to fight ready to mobilize," elaborated Lord Kelse. He smacked the back of his hand against his palm. "In order to have the best chance of taking the Dark-Elves by surprise."

"We barely made it out of the palace alive," a woman sobbed. She flung her hand over her forehead. "We can't risk it again!" she lamented. "You can't send these men back in there." She protested. She jumped protectively in front of a few particularly battered soldiers.

"Lady Miribal is right. Most of our men will not be strong enough to fight in a long drawn out battle," stated the Captain of the Guard as he wrapped his arm around the weeping Lady Miribal. "As captain, I couldn't in good conscience send my men back in there."

"The Dark-Elves are ruthless!" Responded one of the palace guards. He slammed his fist into the palm of his hand. He immediately became winded from his shout and started coughing. "They beat us and had us chained in our barracks like animals!" The young soldier continued coughing. His lungs had been punctured after he had faced the terrible body loppings from the Dark-Elf soldiers. Also even the short crossing to the shelter had exposed his already weakened lungs to far too much debris, residue, soot and smoke that still lingered in the air since the Aether attack. The guard did his best to try and control his vicious coughing, but he could not break the spell and he ended up doubling over and sinking to his knees. One of his comrades seeing his distress came to his side and then tried to assist him to his feet.

As he escorted his friend to the side he wrapped the other man's arm around his shoulder. "We were forced to watch Loki and Malekith murder other guards right before our eyes." The crowd gasped in horror as he spilled the bloody details of the tortures and cruelties they had faced at the hands of Malekith Army. After he said the dreadful name of the self-proclaimed king of Asgard he spat to the ground and dug the heel of their boots into the place where they had spat. Such a practice had become a recent costume in Asgard when referring to the insufferable tyrant. With that the other soldier managed to be able to lower his comrade safely down to the ground off to the side of the chamber.

"I've heard enough!" Lord Kelse declared as he stomped his foot. "Loki is far more vile and wicked than even the Dark-Elves and their leader Malekith. He was once one of us. A son of Odin. " Lord Kelse growled. His brown eyes glowed with a flame. He clenched his fist and gritted his teeth until his jaw ached. The big nobleman started to stalk about. "Like a parasite, he grew inside us all this time," he growled and he paced like a cagey beast. "So diabolical. So insidious," his voice was low in his throat. "Loki is a monster, he is relentless!" he shouted out. "He is obviously hellbent on unleashing the Aether and bringing about Ragnorok. He is an animal... he will not rest until all of this..." He pointed around the room. "is destroyed!" He exclaimed gesturing wildly before the crowd. "And nor will we!" Railed Lord Kelse. He lifted a brass knuckled fist high into the air. The rest of the soldiers and guards and noblemen echoed his sentiments. With a might huzzah the raised their fists in the air as well. "We will give Loki and Malekith and the soulless hoard of an army hell! We will bring Ragnorok to them!" He cried. Immediately, it seemed as though he was joined by the chorus of 1000 angry voices. All raging and ready to go berserk and exact vengeance on those who threatened their home. Feeling the tension and the emotion of the crowd rising with him, Lord Kelse yelled out, "Who's with me men?" He was encouraged by even stronger and louder than the first chant. "We must attack the palace by midnight it is the only garuantee that Loki and Malekith don't escape and carry forth with these plans that will doom us all," he explained.

Lord Kelse had pumped the crowd of soldiers, guards, citizens and nobles into a frenzy. Sif, Frandal, Volstagg and Hogun stood silently as they listened to rowdy voices of their fellow Einherjar. As Einherjar they knew that they only had these few precious hours to effect the outcome of Convergence. If they didn't act all the realms could be plunged into darkness for good. There would be nothing that they could do to reverse what happened after the Aether was released. Ragnorok would begin. With light extinguished from the Universe the Nine Realms would sink into war, famine and chaos. The ground would crack, mountains would crumble, volcanoes would erupt and before long death would consume everyone. They couldn't allow that to happen. That wouldn't be what Thor would want. He had done all to ensure that Asgard and the Nine Realms would survive even if he didn't.

Jane Foster listened as the Asgardians chanted and screamed in their battlecry. They were all so ready to enact vengeance and do whatever it took to save the world from such a grim and grizzly fate. She supposed she should have felt elation and filled with hope, but she didn't. Her chest tightened and her heart raced. Her eyes welled up with tears. She felt as if her breath was being squeezed from her throat. She could not believe what she was hearing. Were the Asgardians so desperate to stop Loki that they would kill Thor? Jane mashed her lips together as hot tears forming. She turned to the female member of Thor's band of followers. "Lady Sif," she said breathlessly. Her face was starting to redden as he pulsed raced within her and her eyes were misty. "Lady Sif we must do something!" She insisted. She reached out and grabbed Lady Sif by her arm. Even though Lady Sif's right arm wasn't tied in a sling it was still sore, badly bruised and filled with contusions. Sif was far too strong to show any sign of weakness or pain beyond that of even a flinch. Even the flinch which Lady Jane felt come from Sif's arms was too quick and rapid for her to peg to pain, it could have easily been from the fact that the warrior woman didn't relish her touch. Still, Jane pressed. She didn't reach her hands out to touch Lady Sif anymore, but she didn't drop the subject. "We can't let them do this!" The astrophysicist argued. "You're not going to let them do this are you?' She continued to implore the dark-haired shield-maiden. "You're not just going to let them blow the castle sky-high with Prince Thor and Lady Sigyn still in there, are you?" She asked. All of her sudden her breath hitched and her voice started to tremble. "We can't...we...can't," she choked. "We can't just let them die!" She gasped.

Lady Sif swung her head to the point of pain as she looked down at the mortal woman. Sif's face formed a frown. She had been biting her tongue as she listened to the squabble of the delegates, councilmen, Einherjar and palace guards. To the shield-maiden's ears their clamor and commotion sounded like a coop full of hens. She hated politics. It was one of the things that she preferred about the art of war; less talk and more action. There were so many chants and cheers and opinions being shouted back and forth it was detestable. All this constant deliberation about what was to be done and no one was doing a thing.

Yet for all of Sif hatred of politics and debates and the consideration of many opinions, this time she almost welcomed it. For the first in what she felt was a long time felt caught, betwixt and between two points of view herself. It was not something that she had ever battled before. She'd faced many foes but never one so dreadful as this one of she'd fought her enemies she'd always known what she wanted, their defeat and she'd always been willing to pay what she thought was the ultimate price for that. She'd always been willing to lay down her life for her people. Without a moment's of hesitation she would have charged into the heat of the heaviest battle without a second thought when it was her life on the line, but now when it was Thor's, when it was Lady Sigyn she was all of a sudden unsure. What would it mean for Asgard if they were somehow able to stop the Dark-Elves and Loki from this evil scheme, but they lost Prince Thor. Asgard would be without an heir to the throne. They would be leave the realms to ruin in the end anyway without leaving Asgard with a successor or the Nine Realms with a future all-father. And yet if they waited...if they waited til dawn all could be lost. Everything could be plunged into darkness and chaos. Volcanoes would erupt, rivers would dry up, disease would spread, people would died...it was said that only a tenth would survive and how long they would survive was unknown.

As an Einherjar it was her sworn duty to defend the people of Asgard and the lives of the innocent throughout the Nine Realms. Protecting them at all cost should have meant everything to her. She should be boldly agreeing to the plan that would save the most lives. Yet she couldn't bring herself to raise a fist with the troops and lift her voice in a rallying battle cry and prepare for the attack that could save them all. She thought of Thor he was so valiant and brave and strong. He had a smile as radiant as the sun itself. She had fought by his side in 1000 battles. He had always laughed boldly in the face of danger proclaiming with bravado that he had no plans to die that day. They had spoken often at the end of a battle about how they wanted to die. She knew that Thor wanted to die facing the thrill of battle. He wouldn't want to die as a humbled, helpless prisoner at the hands of a maniac. Especially that maniac being the very man he had grown up calling his brother. Still Sif knew what Thor would tell them to do. If it meant the survival of Asgard and the Nine Realms then he would most willingly lay down his life.

Lady Sif closed her eyes. Anger welled inside her to the point that she felt like she was going to explode. Thor had gone back for Loki, despite her advice, despite the fact that she had warned him that it Loki was nothing more than a black-hearted fiend, a trickster and a liar at best. She tried to make Thor listen reason, but he refused. He just kept saying how Loki was his brother. Thor was a fool. Loki had no brotherly love toward him. Now he was a prisoner of Loki's facing death for his act of fiel piety. Sif could not even relish in the thought of Loki facing his own end. Being blown sky-high was too impersonal. If he was to die then she wanted it to be by her hands. She wanted to make it painful and merciless. For he had shown no one mercy. She wanted to make him suffer for what he'd done to his brother, his parents, to Asgard. She wanted to watch the gleam fade from his evil emerald eyes.

Her mind turned from Thor for just a moment. She couldn't help but think of the innocent life alone in the palace surrounded by villains and savages. A simple maiden, a woman who although trained and handy with a bow and arrow, had no real knowledge of warfare. She was not a warrior, Valkyrie, palace guard or shield-maiden. She was a courtier, a damsel, surely she wasn't meant to die such a brutal death, to be such an unsuspecting sacrifice. It wasn't fair. She'd been safe in the fallout shelter, she'd risked everything to come back and save others and now no one was willing to do a thing to save her. Sif clenched her fist together, she could feel her blood starting to boil. Was that the way of a warrior of Asgard to repay good with evil?

Lady Sif sighed. Maybe they had no choice. But there had to be another choice. Any choice had to be better than participating in the death of their own prince. Then Lady Sif thought about the words of her friends. She knew when they were right when they said that Thor would have been willing to give his life if that meant ultimately Asgard's survival. Of course he would have. The female warrior of Asgard could have simply cursed her Einherjar friends for their forwardness in pointing out Thor's bravery and virtue. For he would that which was what any true prince would do. When they'd first come to Midgard in search of Thor and Loki sent the Destroyer, even then the true son of Odin didn't flinch in the face of the fire breathing robot. He didn't bat an eyelash at the thought of laying down his life for his friends or the town of Midgardians which he hardly knew. He rushed her off to safety, encouraging her to stop Loki at all cost even if that cost him his life. Sif's bottom lip twisted. She hadn't like the idea then and she most assuredly didn't like it now. If they did have to do the unthinkable (blow up the palace with Thor and Lady Sigyn still in it) to put an end to Loki's schemes, that didn't mean that she would have to feel proud of it. In fact, Lady Sif was absolutely sure that she would never regret anything more as long as she lived. At this point her life expectancy seemed rather short, but if they did this. If they succeeded, if the day was won, but Prince Thor's life forfeited in the process, well Sif was convince she would hang up her sword and shield forever. Never would her blade ring out and rain down justice on the battlefield again. It would be a sad and meaningless life for sure. Nothing meant more to her than battle, nothing except Thor that was and if he was gone than even the taste of victory would be flavorless. Sif swore right then and there in her head that if they did have to go through with this most dreadful and desperate plan that she would curse the day she ever picked up a sword, she would rue the day that she ever trained as a shield-maiden, she would hate forever the day that she fought so hard to be a member of the elite Einherjar. She wanted it so badly it was the highest ranking military title in the whole realm, it was every warriors' greatest desire to fight for king, country, for freedom and goodness on that great and terrible day of prophesied reckoning, Ragnorok. But now... now if it meant this...if it meant destroying the palace, a place that had been practically her own home, sacrificing Lady Sigyn one of the few females she could actually consider a friend and to have to sacrifice Thor, he prince, her best friend, the man she loved...she wished she'd never become an Einherjar.

In the midst of all the hullabaloo that was going on all around her and within her, somehow her attention was finally drawn back to the squeal of Lady Jane in her ear. She blinked rapidly a few times as she took in the sight of the human woman. She was so tiny and slender, frail, like a mouse. She was practically holding on to her coattails like a child. Her warm hazel eyes pleading and screaming for her to intervene. Just as Sif was about to part her lips. Lady Jane spun around and faced the arguing mob.

Sif had taken to long to respond. Jane wasn't exactly sure whether Sif had just been ignoring her "mortal frailties" or couldn't hear her over the raucous of the roaring crowd, but she hadn't responded and she didn't have time to waste. None of them did. Surely, Thor and lady Sigyn didn't. "How can you do this?" Jane demanded of all present in the tiny confines of the war room. It was only supposed to be a small conference room and yet they had managed to jam what seemed like hundreds into the congested quarters. Her shaking voice rang out among the crowd. It took a few moments, but slowly the rowdy group of officers and soldiers settled to listen to the female scientist.

"Lady Jane," Frandal said as he took to the young woman's side. He took hold of her arm. He grabbed her and gave her a stern look. His normally smiling face was now harsh and grave. He wagged his blonde-haired head.

Jane turned around and her hazel eyes shot the flirtatious swordsman a glare that forced him to step aside and take his hands off of her. "Lady Jane, please try to understand. This is a very serious decision that has to be made through hysterics," the golden haired Einherjar chuckled sheepishly.

"Don't you just assume because I'm a woman or a mortal or whatever that I'm prone to hysterics, Frandal!" Jane shot back at him.

Franda threw his hands up in front of himself and smiled sheepishly. "Now, now, now," Lady Jane the Casanova began suavely. "I wasn't trying to imply anything," he explained.

Jane's small lips curled, "Well...well...well you better not have been trying to imply anything," she threatened wagging her finger in his face. "I'm as rational and analytical as anyone can be," she fussed.

"Of course, of course, you are Lady Jane. No one said that you weren't," Frandal stated. His voice calm and gentle and subtle as he patted the air.

"I'm a scientist, for crying out loud!" She exclaimed and thumped an open palm on her chest.

"There, there, Lady Jane," Volstagg whispered. His deep baritone voice floated into her ears at the same time his thick calloused fingers wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her back into the folds of a bear-like embrace. For a moment Jane fought trying to stay strong, but when Volstagg's bulging arms had wrapped around her she turned her head into his chest and let out a few blubbering sobs. Volstagg pursed his lips and scowled at his blonde-friend. Frandal looked shocked by the disapproving grimace that the plump redhead wore. He pointed to himself with disbelief. Volstagg rolled his eyes and returned his attention back to comforting Lady Jane. He rubbed her back and cooed in her ears. "There, there," he whispered once more. "You need pay no heed to, Frandal my lady. He is as impetuous with his tongue as he is with...well with other members of his body," Volstagg kibitzed.

Frandal's expression became even more shocked, but soon shock was overtaken by a most pleased grin as he looked down at himself. The swashbuckler started to chuckle as he tossed his head back and forth. "He speaks the truth, milady," Frandal said and gave a sweeping bow. "I'm young, hot blooded and eager in all I do," he expressed.

"I think, what my dear friend meant to convey was that this truly is a military matter and well..." Volstagg gulped. Lady Jane had slowly started to lift her head off the large warriors shoulder. She wiped her eyes. "We have to consider every angle this isn't a decision that should be made with emotions."

Jane bit her lip to keep her chin from quivering. She slowly nodded her head, flicked the tears out of her eyes, rubbed under her nose. "Emotion," she repeated in a breath. She knew much about decisions that needed not be made with emotions. She was a scientist. She based her life off of carefully calculated and evaluated emperical data. Every professor, coworker and supervisor had drilled such notions into her head. Don't jump to conclusions about your findings, search and research, test and prove. Never do something that was completely illogical. When she'd been conducting her research out in the New Mexican desert she had been sure of what she would find. She had expected to go at there and find some natural phenomenon. Not a man from another planet. She'd been looking for logical, reasonable, rational finding that would jet propel her career, not something...someone who would jet propel her emotions.

"Well I'm not more emotional than anyone else in this room," she stated. She pushed off of Volstagg's chest. "All of you are letting emotions cloud your judgment!" She accused. "And that emotion is fear! Fear!" She screamed. "Fear is ruling you, don't you see," she implored them.

"This mortal needs to hold her tongue!" Shouted Lord Kelse.

"She doesn't know what she is speaking of!" Another protested.

"Lady Jane, you don't understand, child," Lord Algrim spoke up. "The Aether will destroy us all if we don't act."

Jane narrowed her glanced at the shaken and tattered looking prime minister of Asgard, "Don't tell me I don't understand about the Aether!" Jane shouted back at the prime minister.

"How dare you speak to me that way," the old elf scolded.

"I'm the only one who has had it inside of me!" She went on. "I'm the one who had felt it pulling and surging and coursing through my veins, making me feel as though I would explode!" She yelled before all.

"Jane," the hushed voice of Hogan came to her ear. He kept a placid face as he touched her shoulder. Jane ripped her shoulder from the silent soldier's clasps.

"Thor is your prince! Your prince!" She declared as she marched around in a circle looking at each of the men present. She pointed her finger in their faces as she stared into their eyes. Each one of them was hundred's of years older than she. They'd lived through wars and fought countless battles. They were politicians and noblemen and soldiers. She expected to see so much more bravery in their eyes than what was there. She shook her head. "You are just going to let him die?" She questioned her voice starting to tremble. "Kill him?" She stopped her pacing, froze in the center and shrugged her shoulders.

"A prince should be willing to sacrifice for his people, Lady Jane," Prime Minister Audric stated stoically. He clasped his hands behind his back.

"And a people, Lord Audric, should be willing to pay a king's ransom for their Prince," Jane Foster retorted. "Thor is your prince, your hero," she nearly spat. She thought of when Thor took her out into the Imperial City, the way to people had flocked to Thor. Shouting his name, rushing up to greet him, waving banners and flags as they lined the streets. Women sang his praises from the balconies of their stately city-side villas and mansions. The threw flowers and confetti at him from their lofty positions. It was like some kind of hippie shower. For a moment Jane had felt the twinge of jealousy. All those women swooning and fawning over her boyfriend. Thor could have had his pick of the litter. Each one of them was ravishingly beautiful. Why would he want her? Still, after a moment she was able to push past her insecurities and revel in his applause and adoration. She thought of the celebration that the world had had after the Avengers defeated Loki in New York. She thought of the people screaming into the camera "We love you, Thor!" Jealousy immediately dissipated and she was consumed with a feeling of the greatest pride. Maybe this is what the wives of military men, police officers and firemen felt like or perhaps it was the same distinguished and honored feeling that the first ladies of the presidents of the United States of America had felt, maybe it was how the girlfriends of rockstars and movie-stars felt. She didn't know, but it was a wonderful, glorious feeling to be in love with such a man. What had heightened her own feelings of adoration toward Thor was knowing how others felt about him. Oh how quickly they had turned on him.

"Prince Thor swore an oath before his father, and our elders and high council when he assumed the title of General among the Einherjar. It is the same oath that every Einherjar is expected to uphold," the Prime Minister of Asgard explained. "it is to make the ultimate sacrifice to save Asgard and the Nine Realms,"

The Astrophysicist bit her lip, her mouth twisted bitterly, tears welled up in her pretty hazel eyes, "And you intend to make him make good on such an oath? How noble," the mortal woman spat.

"Lady Jane, please," Volstagg spoke up, "Try to understand how hard this is for all of us," he entreated her.

"We love Thor," Frandal said.

"He is our friend," Hogun followed up.

"This is what Thor would want," Lady Sif announced stiffly. Jane swung her head to face the iron clad woman. "It's not what we want," the Einherjar lady expressed with a sigh. She shook her head. "it isn't what I want at all" she went on. Her firm, sultry voice cracked just a little. The brunette shield-maiden bowed her head. "But I know it is what Thor would want," she echoed.

"If he were here he'd tell us to do the same," Volstagg confirmed. He placed pudgy fingers atop Lady Sif's shoulders. They were so rigid that they were quivering. The warrior woman who was too proud and strong to ever show weakness in front of men reached her hand back and took the plump Viking warrior by the hand. In an instant moment of solidarity the rest of the members of the Warriors Three gathered around the shield-maiden.

"He swore an oath to defend the Nine Realms and that's exactly what he'd do, no matter what," Frandal stated. Jane started to bite her nails.

"We have to do this," Hogun stated his voice more grim than usual and expressedly more hoarse. "It is the only way," the quite Einherjar announced.

"Then a consensus has been reached," said Lord Kelse. "We haven't one more minute to waste. Enough time has been spent pontificating these silly points," the burly old lord fussed as he rushed about. "One more such dally and all this could be kaput before it even gets started. "Now you men..." The nobleman pointed out a group the left. he started to give the soldiers, and guards orders on how to gird themselves and to rally other men who were still well enough to prepare to carry arms and ammunitions to overlay the foundations of the palace in the middle of the night.

Immediately, the men started to gather, conspire and strategize. They huddled together talking in the crowd and some started to march out the door. All the while Jane had been feeling a squeezing in her stomach and a tightening in her chest. The war council chamber was starting to break into what seemed to be organized chaos, but to Jane it seemed as pure mayhem and pandemonium. "No! Stop!" Jane cried out amongst the crowd of soldiers. They all rushed about. They whizzed past her in their frenzy and haste that the young scientist's cried seemed to fall upon deaf ear. Her breath was hitched and her palms had grown moist as if she was going to take a bath. For a while her voice kept coming out as a tiny squeak. There was no way that she could be heard over the roar of the excitable Asgardians. All of who were girding up their courage and chanting "For Asgard!"

Finally, desperately, she shouted out. "STOP!" The auburn haired Midgardian woman's voice managed to break through the commotion in the room. All gave paused and swung their heads turned and faced the short, hazel-eyed mortal woman. Jane froze as the eyes of the warriors and leaders of Asgard rested upon her. All at once she could feel tension taking over her whole body. She'd never been a person with a commanding presence or that type of person who would draw attention to herself. She swallowed the thick lump that had just formed in her throat and straightened her posture. "There has to be another way," she blurted out. Her hazel eyes were wide and watery. She implored all of the men and women of the Aesir to hear her and to rack their brains to think of alternatives. "Come come people, Thor is your prince!" She cried. He pleas were only met with mournful and bewildered stares. The people of Asgard looked to one another. They parted their lips as if they were about to say something to one another. They looked like they had plots and schemes turning in their brains, but none made utterance or made another suggestion. Jane looked left and right hopeful that one soldier would speak up, but her expression soon turned to a crestfallen one as she saw that in a moment the people started talking amongst themselves again and discussing how they were going to get to the palace or how many bombs and ammunitions they were going to need. "No," Jane gasped. "There has to be," she squeaked as he shouldered slumped.

"Lady Jane," the pointy-earred light-elf cleared his throat. "I understand your..." He paused and placed his slender finger on his chin. "Infatuation with Prince Thor," He articulated.

Jane Foster's cheeks burned a furious red. "Infatuation! Infatuation!" Her voice rose an octave with every syllable. She was not simply infatuated with Prince Thor. Though her mother would have said that she was. Her mother had been very skeptical about her relationship with the handsome foreign stranger she'd described. She was even more skeptical after Jane had spent several months lamenting around the house in a dirty bathrobe. "It's not infatuation!" The female scientist stomped her foot. "I care about Lady Sigyn," she insisted. "And Prince Thor!" She exclaimed. "You all are acting as if you don't care for him at all," she yelled as tears started to streak down her dirty and smudged cheeks.

Lady Sif snorted and took a few steps closer to Lady Jane. Her steps were hard and she was walking with a painful limp. She stood in the mortal woman's face and looked down at her with a scowl. "Do not think that you are the only person here who cares for Thor," she challenged. "because you are not," she nearly growled as she reached out and grabbed Jane by her soft forearm. Her fingers were hard, rough and calloused and somehow even in her weakened state her hands possessed an incredible amount of strength. Jane should have been nervous. The Aesir woman could have easily lifted her up off the ground by her pinky and flung her into the wet stone wall. Jane steeled herself. She jutted out her chin and snorted back at the shield-maid and ripped her elbow from the other woman's grasp.

"Lady Sif is right," encouraged Lord Kelse. He stepped into the forefront and swung his arms about the all the men. "We all love Prince Thor," he announced. All present in the council chamber clapped loudly and raised their voice proclaiming their love for their prince.

"We pledged our allegiance and knelt before Loki in order to keep Loki from killing Prince Thor," some of the palace guards called out.

"I gave Loki Gungnir," Lord Algrim stated. A palpable silence fell upon the men. The Light-Elf bowed his head. His ears drooped. "Tis my fault that we have come to this," he confessed. He allowed a shudder to overtake his bag-of-bones body. "But I did it in hopes that Loki would spare Thor. I thought he just wanted to call himself king. I did not know that he would be such a word breaker," Algrim explained. His purple eyes went wide.

"Loki is honorless," stated Prime Minister Audric. He put his hand upon his friend's back. "What has happened is not your fault, my old friend," he announced. "Every man and woman here has done everything they could to keep Prince Thor alive," Lady Dagmar's father said flatly. "We are running out of time, can't you see, Lady Jane?" He expressed turning to her. His features taunt. "If we do nothing. If we don't act and do everything we can to try to save as many lives as possible then we let those who have already fallen die in vain." He professed. His words rang true in the hearts of all the Aesir standing round. All had lost some comrade, friend or loved one in the attacks that would not have been had not the mortal woman have meddled where man ought not to meddle. "Some of whom died saving your hide," he added. He glowered down at her as he elevated his nose.

Jane Foster sucked in a sharp breath and bowed her head. Her eyes welled up with tears. The image of Lady Dagmar's broken body on the porcelain floor within Queen Frigga's bedroom chamber was one that the young scientist knew she would never forget. As tears pricked at her eyes and lingers on her lashes she shook her head. Her breath hitched. Her voice came out as a squeak, "Lord Audric I meant no disrespect..." She started.

"Then I suggest you hold your tongue, child!" The Vanir prime minister barked. Jane took a step back. "It's you who brought this upon us!" He accused. He rammed his finger in her face.

"No!" Jane squealed.

"Now you dare presume to try and tell us what to do in this matter. We are all the ones who have suffered in this matter, not you!" He yelled. "To think you, a mortal, has outlived my daughter," Lord Audric's voice broke as her clutched at his heart.

"I...I...I," Jane started. She took steps to back up. The eyes of the entire congregation of those who had assembled in the war council chambers seemed to be upon her. "I'm sorry," Jane confessed. "I didn't think...I didn't know about the Aether...I didn't know about any of this..." She expressed... "if I would have...if I would have," she shook her head as tears cascaded down her cheeks. "Never in a million years would I have..."

"Curses, girl!" The Prime Minister of Vanaheim shouted with such a fury that it made Jane jump. "What you would have done doesn't matter! All that does matter is doing what can be done to save our lives. We are going to do everything in our power to save this world and yours and if you have any qualms with that then perhaps you should be stoned like the evil temptress that you are!" Lady Dagmar's father yelled.

'Lord Audric, my friend, now that is enough," called Lord Algrim. He placed a hand of restraint upon the Vanir Prime Minister's shoulder.

Audric tore his shoulder from the elderly elf's grasp. He spun around on the Prime Minister of Asgard as quick as a top. "No it's not! No, it's not," he grumbled. "Everything that has happened is because of that woman over there!" He pointed at Lady Jane. "And now she has the audacity to tell us how we should proceed!" He lamented with fire in his eyes. "Never!" He shouted. "My daughter is dead!" He continued. His old face crumbling as he relived the worse news he'd ever received. "And all these other men have lost someone because of her!" The men present began to grumble and bark and take umbrage against Jane Foster

"My friends! My friends, you must settle down," called Lord Algrim over the bustle of voices raised in an angry chorus against the mortal astrophysicist. "Lady Jane may have been the carrier of the Aether, but she is not this plots grand architect. Come, come men you all know this. These things were prophesied long ago. Lady Jane cannot be held responsible for what has happened," he explained.

The words of the Prime Minister of Asgard seemed to cool the tempers of the restless, scared soldiers. "Well, maybe she isn't responsible," Lord Audric muttered under his breath. He cast a glance toward the trembling auburn haired woman who clung to Frandal's arm for protection. The blonde swordsman and the rest of Thor companions encircled tightly around the Midgardian. "But she certainly shouldn't have any jurisdiction on what happens now," he expressed. "Lord Algrim you are Asgard's regent while King Odin and Queen Frigga are away from the city. The decision is yours," Lord Audric stated as he turned to the elderly elfin leader. Soon the eyes of all assembled in the war council chamber were resting on the pointy-earred elf.

Lord Algrim tried to square his shoulders. He stood up proud, tall and regal, the way a Prime Minister stood. He swiped a shaking, thin hand against his pale brow and pushed his silky, long, white hair behind his ear. His face looked grave a stricken. His lips pursed for a second and thin they formed into a severe grimace. He had always taken his role as Odin's friend as a serious one. To have the trust of the king was a great thing. That role became even more serious when Odin moved his role of friend to that of an adviser. He knew then that the council he would give Odin would have ramifications that would not only effect himself, but also Odin and all of Asgard and possibly the whole of the Nine Realms. It was a wonderful honor and all at once a tremendous burden to bear. Yet he bore it with pride for all these years. Whenever the all-father had come to him for advice or counsel he had done his best to weigh the decisions and options deliberately. Sometimes he would take two or three days before he came back to the king with an answer. He had never tried to make decisions that simply worked best for him, but he'd always put the king's needs and the needs of the people before his own. The Elfin Prime Minister had always prided himself on giving the king sound advice, he had also prided himself on being a political figure in which the people of Asgard could trust had their best interest at heart. Although he was not born of Asgard, he was truly an Aesir in his heart. Despite all his years of dedication to serving the realm and his astute skill as a Prime Minister, someow Lord Algrim felt completely unprepared to make this call. Thus far his decisions had only led Asgard from bad to worse. He'd only caused lives to be lost and he'd only led them closer and closer to having the face the horror of Ragnorok. He'd heard all the arguments and he'd played out all the possible outcomes. None were good, one was decidedly worse than the other. Yet, he could not seem to bear to make the call himself.

Prime Minister Algrim swore at himself in his mind. His cowardice was no help to Asgard at this time. They needed strong, sound leadership. They didn't have anymore time to waste. The king and queen had trusted him to run things while they were unable to. He could not allow them to linger in the valley of indecision any longer. He knew they had to do something. Time was of the essence. "Captain Frell," Lord Algrim spoke up after of time of tossing and turning over the facts and options in his mind. As he spoke his voice cracked. "You have been relatively silent," he turned to the elderly strategist. "Have you nothing to say about the matter?" He inquired.

Algrim sighed with relief when the eyes of all shifted from him to the Einherjar strategist. Algrim's ears twitched and drooped as he took the spotlight off of himself. Captain Frell swallowed. He had planned many battles. He had calculated the risks for 100s of battles, deciphered routes for troops to march through, observed war tactics of other armies and taught maneuver. He'd been a valued and well consulted member of Odin's war council since he'd retired from the ranks of the Einherjar. He had always given his king practical answers. Answers that based off the facts and figures and taking into account all the possible calculated risks would yield the most promising outcomes for their people. Now, if his all his reasoning was correct the surest strategy for even the hope of victory would have devastating results for the people, but if they didn't take the risk the ramifications could end in the annihilation of all. With a heavy heart Captain Frell admitted to himself it was a risk that they could no longer afford to take.

"I think we all know what we have to do," the military strategist stated. He looked the Light Elf squarely in the face, but lowered his gaze as his eyes fell upon the saddened and downcast faces of the warriors around him. "We have to blow the palace," he announced. He shuddered and let out a shallow exhale. "We have so few hours left until first light and by then it will be too late. Thor will be as good as dead by then anyway and once Convergence begin and the worlds fall into alignment there will be nothing that we can do to stop Ragnorok from coming. We have to do this," he determined. He nodded and mashed his lips together. Then he shook his head and closed his eyes trying fight the tears. He stood by his decision. No matter how terrible it was. It was a small price to pay if it kept the Nine-Realms from being plunged into darkness, war and chaos, if it kept ruthless lunatics the likes of Lord Malekith and Loki from power, then it was worth it, he reminded himself. "We have to do this," he explained. "For ourselves and our posterity. Our sons and our daughters and our grandsons and granddaughters," he went on. "and for the innocent ones throughout the realms. They have no idea what is about to take place, but soon they will," Captain Frell proclaimed. "They will," he repeated. "There will be a time when they will require an answer of us. They will ask us, where were we? What did we do to stop this calamity? What answer will we have for them? That we hid and cowered like frightened bilgerats of on a derelict ship caught in a tempest?" he challenged the men around him. "Nay," he shook his head. "I cannot live with such an answer, gentlemen, can you?" He responded.

There was a long pause a moment of hush and quiet. Every man and woman present contemplated within the very depths of their soul if they could live with such an answer. No matter what the outcome was at the end of this terrible day everyone knew that the only thing that mattered was that they had tried their utmost to prevent Ragnorok. If fate was already preordained and it could not be rewritten or changed then this was inevitable, but at least they had tried. They had used all their might and strength and power and perseverance and grit to try and fight evil. Surely, the halls of Valhalla would be open to them for their valiant efforts even if the end they weren't victorious.

Finally, Lord Algrim spoke up, "Nor could I, Captain Frell," he confessed. He took a stance by the grey haired military strategist. He placed his bony fingers on the retired captain's shoulder.

"I concur as well," stated Lord Audric. He inched over and stood side by side with the Prime Minister of Asgard. The two exchanged meaningful glances. Their solidarity was as assured as were the pained grimaces on their faces.

Jane Foster gasped, shook her head and flung her face to be buried in Volstagg's big, strong shoulder. She emitted a sob, but the soft cry was muffled against the burly red-bearded Viking's bulk. He held her protectively in her arms. Her slight frame quivered as he let his hand rest on the back of her head. "It's alright, Lady Jane, it's alright," he whispered as he hugged her tight. Her tears started to saturated the fabric.

Frandal gripped his blonde hairs in between his fingers. The normally calm, jovial swordsman paced about. Lady Sif started to allow her hand to trail across her right hip. There, resting in the folds of her girdle she has a secret dagger. It was a trick she had learned from Loki, that unimaginable bastard. She wished to use this trickster trick to ram the point of the dagger through Loki's eye socket. Her anger only grew as she thought of the fact that the Prime Minister Audric, Prime Minister Algrim and Captain Frell were keeping her from taking her vengeance upon Loki and keeping her from rescuing Thor. The shield-maiden had a good mind to rush them and hold her small blade to their throats and force them to say that they would do everything in their power to rescue Thor before daybreak. Perhaps it was her own physical weakness that kept her at bay, still weak from the injuries she'd sustained prior to the attack she doubted she could take on a battalion. She could have certainly easily taken down the two Prime Ministers and the elderly strategist even with her wounds. Or perhaps it was a fact that she was too noble and good a warrior of Asgard to break a direct order from a superior. Sif scoffed as she considered that. Surely, that wasn't the case. She'd always been a rebel. She hadn't hesitated to defy Loki, while he sat upon the throne of Asgard, to go to Midgard and rescue Thor. Had her love for him waned so much in such a short span of time? Sif could feel her heart breaking at the very thought. Perhaps she simply realized the wisdom in the words of those members of Odin's war council. If it was her life on the line rather than Thor's or Lady Sigyn's she would be more than willing to lay it down if it meant the survival of the Nine Realms. No one life should be worth more than the lives of the entire cosmos. Not even the life of a prince, a son of Odin or the man she loved. So Sif twisted her lip and let out a bitter, gusty sigh. She unsheathed the dagger, she flashed it boldly, but only for a second. The reflection of the gleaming blade caught the eye of Captain Frell. He quirked his brows at her. The snarl on her chapped lips did not falter as she allowed her dagger to fall to the floor.

Hogun bowed his head momentarily. In the blink of an eye his head was raised and he was gazing out the corner of his eye at those around him. He saw his friends, the bravest, proudest, strongest warriors he knew, they were downcast and defeated. Their spirits broken with what was to come. He looked at the mortal. The poor woman sobbed uncontrollably into Volstagg's shoulder. Her pitiful cry was the only sound admist the silence. He looked at the others in the room. Men and women, some warriors, some guards, some peasants and others nobility, no matter their station each wore the same expression. Pain and fear etched on each face. No one wanted to surrender their Crown Prince. Indeed the people of Asgard loved Thor, but they also loved their own lives. He turned his head from the people and then looked at the leaders. Lord Algrim, Lord Audric and Captain Frell all stood side by side, shoulder to shoulder, they seemed to be pillars of strength, but there were signs that betrayed their cool facades. Signs that only a man as careful and quiet as Hogun the Grim could observe. One learned much from quietly watching those around them. He watched as the men held their heads high, but each of them fidgeted. Lord Audric tapped his foot antsily, Captain Frell fiddled with his fingers and Prime Minister Algrim, well he could simply not control the twitch of his pointed-ears. Hogun's gut told him that this decision did not sit well with these distinguished gentlemen either. But what could they do? They had to do something? They couldn't simply sit by and let Ragnorok befall them all without a fight. No, that was not the way of the Aesir. Everything within the raven-locked warrior wanted to go back and save the son of Odin, but to what point, he pondered. To rescue Thor would not guarantee a victory and waiting til morning light and being inactive most certainly guaranteed their demise. He mashed his lips together. He supposed he had to trust in the collective wisdom of the two prime ministers and Captain Frell. They were making the only wise move that could be made he supposed. The silent warrior swore in and of himself. He valued wisdom, but wisdom was a curse when wise actions came at such a price.

Hogun raised his dark eyes once more just as he felt despair about to settle into his heart. He'd never felt such a dreadful feeling before. He had born much pain before often silently, but this...this torture made him want to scream out. Finally, just as he was about to let out the ultimate sigh of dejection, his glance fell upon Heimdal. The dark-skinned guard had been standing among them all this time and he had not said a word. The gatekeeper simply had his two hands folded atop his sword as he leaned forward on it with his head bowed and eyes closed. His face placid yet staunch. His stance caused Hogun's eyes to widen. Heimdal's powers were great. Far greater than most cared to admit. Heimdal, was a giant among men and a gentle and reserved soul. He kept his powers hidden from most, but it was true that he could see to the farthest reaches of the branches of Yggdrasil and Hogun wondered was it true that the old gatekeeper still possessed the power of hindsight. He wondered if it was true that he could also communicate directly with Odin even while the all-father lied in Oversleep. Hogun certainly hoped such rumors of his powers were true and not merely exaggerated fables. For they could surely use the wisdom that such foresight could bring. Heimdal seemed lost in concentration. He must have been making gallant effort to utilize his powers to see something or to communicate with the king. He wondered what he saw, what he heard. Did he silently foresee their destruction? Was the king of Asgard giving him a plan? Had he even heard the argument taking place amongst the men gathered? Perhaps he hadn't. Hogun couldn't imagine that Heimdal would have stood so quietly as peoplle discussed ideas of forfeiting Prince Thor's life.

"Good Heimdal," Hogun's deep, hoarse voice broke the gatekeeper's concentration. Asgard's guardian looked up with his feiry golden eyes and faced Hogun. "You have said nothing this whole time," he reported. "What say about this matter?" He questioned.

Heimdal was not quick to answer. He swung his head toward Lord Algrim. "Heimdal, if you have any light to shed upon the matter, your voice will be heard," the elfin Prime Minister of Asgard assured him.

"We haven't time for delays!" Barked Lord Kelse. "Lord Heimdal, if you have something to say make great haste and say it," the nobleman ordered.

Heimdal's chestnut brown eyelids snapped open. His fiery golden eyes flickered as he faced the belligerent lord. He licked his lips. Still taking his sweet time to answer. He looked left and right. He looked up and then down and slowly sheathed his large sword. Lord Kelse let out an exasperated sigh. Just before the nobleman could make utterance to offer a grumble Heimdal began to speak.

"Convergence is drawing near," he spoke.

"With every passing second. This is tedious!" Groaned Lord Kelse. He rolled his eyes and tossed up his fists.

"But," Heimdal's deep bass voice interrupted the side commentary of the nobleman. "It does not reach it's peak until midday," he explained.

"Midday?" Questioned the crowd. Mutterings broke out amongst those present.

"How do you know? How can we be certain of this?" Asked Captain Frell.

Heimdal craned his neck to face in the direction of the elderly Einherjar. His face remained cool and calm in the face of the constant questioning. "I have studied the Convergence since my watch began," he reported. "I know its ways. I have seen it coming time and time again," he explained.

"And in your visions did you see the Dark-Elves attacking us?" Railed one guard. He raised his fist.

"Did you see the destruction of all we hold dear?" Another called out.

"Did you see Ragnorok coming?" Demanded the Captain of the Palace Guards.

"Did you see the death of my daughter?" Lord Audric uttered. His voice weak and trembling. His eyes immediately started to fill with tears. He shook his head. He took painstaking steps closer to the gold plated gatekeeper. Heimdal towered over him. Many Asgardians were tall and strappingly built. But Heimdal was a giant among them. He was tall and strong. He was built as a man of war through and through. Despite his stature Lord Audric desperately, angrily took hold of the guardian's shoulders. "Did you know? Did you know? Did you know?" Beseeched the Vanir Prime Minister as he attempted to shake Heimdal by the shoulders. Heimdal was not budged by the aging Vanir nobleman's efforts in the least. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!" He yelled. He started to bang his fist on Heimdal's golden armor. Lord Audric looked up at him grief stricken. "Norns! Tell me, man if you knew!" He demanded.

"Friend," Lord Algrim called. He took the Vanir Prime Minister by the shoulder and quite forcefully pried him off of Heimdal. "Enough of this. Enough of this all of you. Heimdal is not on trial here," he explained. "We all knew Ragnorok was coming. But no one knew they day or the hour," he stated. His words seemed to quiet the group. "Good Heimdal, please continue," he extended his hand toward his old friend.

"Convergence zenith will be at noon. At that point all the worlds will come into alignment and Malekith and Loki will start to execute their plot to unleash the Aether's darkness through the portals and into the unsuspecting worlds. They will not be able to do this until noon," he expounded.

"What point is it that you make?" Questioned one of the soldiers. "By that point Loki will have no doubt already have executed Thor," he shrugged.

"Not if we rescue him," pointed out Captain Frell a spark of hope flickering with in him.

"It is too much of a risk, still," expressed the Captain of the guard to the Einherjar. "We don't have many men to spare. These men have been through so much. Too many of our warriors are injured. The palace is crawling with Dark-Elves," he went on. "Those creatures are heartless. They will annihilate an Aesir as soon as they look at them. To send men back in for a search and rescue would be suicide," he went on. "I'm sorry, Heimdal, but I must agree. The safest bet is still too destroy the palace with Loki and Malekith still in it," he nodded.

"And Prince Thor and Lady Sigyn," chimed in Lady Sif. The Captain of the Guard said nothing to this he merely lowered his head.

"You are banking on the fact that Malekith and Loki will die in the explosion," Heimdal offered.

"If the whole palace is the destroyed..." Began Lord Kelse.

"Then Prince Thor and Lady Sigyn would most certainly die," Heimdal stated flatly, "But Malekith and Loki, not certain so is that," the mighty gatekeeper elaborated.

"What are you saying, good Heimdal?" Inquired the elfin Prime Minister of Asgard.

"What I am saying, Lord Algrim is that Loki, Malekith and the Dark-Elves are survivors. Loki survived the fall from the Bifrost. He fell into the void and survived in a world in which I could not powers are great. He is powerful enough to survive through an explosion. Malekith and his warriors survived for more than 2000 years without the detection. Through the help of the Aether. The Aether is an Infinity Stone it cannot be destroyed. The Dark-Elves harnessed its power to keep them alive this long. The Aether will not be destroyed even if the palace is decimated." He shook his head.

"What do you suggest then, we do nothing and let Ragnorok overtake us?" Yelled out the Prime Minister.

"All I suggest Prime Minister Algrim, is that you know that if you blow up the Imperial Palace and Loki and Malekith survive, which they are likely to, then they shall carry forth with their plan, unleash the Aether and spread Ragnorok throughout the Nine Realms either way and there will be nothing that we can do to stop that," he explained.

"What then are you saying, good Heimdal?" Asked Captain Frell as he shook his head. "That Ragnorok is inevitable? That we should prepare to perish?"

"On the contrary, Captain Frell, I say that our only hope of survival is to save Prince Thor. Only through wielding both Mjolnir and Gungnir can the Aether be placed in stasis and if it is in stasis then Convergence will pass over us without the devastation of Ragnorok," Heimdal encouraged.

Captain Frell scratched at his chin, "Ah, but it is still too much of risk," the strategist surmised. "The chances of us actually being able to send in a rescue party that could successfully infiltrate the palace and find Prince Thor in time are slim," he puzzled as he chewed his fingernail.

"Perhaps that is true, captain," Heimdal agreed. He bobbed his head back and forth. "I am not suggesting that we try to send troops back in, but utilize the one we have on the inside already," he suggested.

"Sigyn!" Bawked Lord Kelse. Heimdal nodded. "Ha! You expect us to leave our fate and the fate of the Nine Realms up the that simpleton?" He scoffed.

Lord Audric and Algrim turned to Lord Kelse and glared at him sharply. "That simpleton has saved everyone here!" They declared in unison pointing to the large crowd.

"Lady Sigyn is more capable than you may think," said Heimdal.

"And she is braver than I ever imagined," confessed Captain Frell. " She chose to go back to try to rescue as many people as she could."

"She was serious about her mission. She wants to rescue Prince Thor," nodded Prime Minister Audric.

"What she wants simply does not matter!" Lord Kelse ranted. "Captain Frell, do be serious, we must think practically about the odds of Lady Sigyn being able to rescue Thor. No doubt, he is under heavy security by the Dark-Elves. You said so yourself that they were heartless. They will slaughter here without a care. Foolish girl!" He spat. "if she were wise she would have fled, but she is not wise. She will be killed and this will all prove to be folly!" He declared tossing up his hands.

"She has a secret weapon," Lord Algrim stated. He looked at Heimdal. "Magic arrows...Enchanted by Loki himself," he revealed. "She says they can't miss," he shrugged.

"Psshaw!" Hissed Lord Kelse. "Arrows enchanted by Loki indeed," he continued. "That monster is a trickster. He is such a clever scoundrel at that," he shook his head. "Surely he enchanted them so that they cannot be used against him," he proposed. The crowd roared with murmurs as they overturned every possibility. Doubt started to swirl about and it ignited more fear.

"She has more than just arrows," Jane nearly screamed. Heads swung to face the mortal woman wracked with tears. Jane's breath hitched, but somehow she managed to push herself off of leaning on to Volstagg's broad shoulders and enormous belly and to standing flat footed on her own two feet. She started to take steps forward so that she was standing directly before the council leaders. "She has a scroll," she offered in a trembling voice as she wiped a finger under her dripping nose. "A letter," she explained further. She could hear the whispers of those around her. She heard as the wondered aloud what good was a letter. "A letter from your daughter," she pointed a shaking finger at the Prime Minister of Vanahiem.

"What good is a letter?" Muttered Prime Minister Audric. He shook his head bitterly. "My daughter loved him," he admitted. "She wasted her love on a monster. He is soulless, he has betrayed us all, he is willing to help usher in Ragnorok and kill his own brother. There are no words that can reach him," the Vanir sighed.

"Perhaps," Heimdal admitted, "but Sigyn's efforts may buy us time."

"Heimdal is right!" Called out Lady Sif. "Loki won't execute Thor until dawn. It is possible that we can find away to rescue him when he is brought to the town square for the execution!"

"Aye, the lady has it!" Confirmed Frandal as he snapped his fingers. "We can create some type of diversion I am sure."

"As long as we can rescue Thor before noontide then he can wield both Mjolnir and Gungnir and stop Ragnorok," expressed Volstagg.

"It is a much greater chance of failure," stated Captain Frell. "There is much that can go wrong." He started to tap his chin as he thought long and hard about the logistics of the suggestion.

"There is much that could go wrong either way, my friend," sighed Lord Algrim as he placed a hand on Frell's shoulder.

"You are the regent while their majesties are unavailable," said Captain Frell as he turned to Prime Minister Algrim. "The decision is yours," he admitted.

"We must try to get word to Queen Frigga. The matter involves that life of her son and she has a right to know the decision that we plan to make," Asgard's Prime Minister proclaimed.

"But how? The systems and transmitters have all been shut down since Loki sent that message?' A guard confirmed.

"Do we have any homing pigeons?" Asked Lord Algrim looking about at the men assembled.

---

Queen Frigga awoke with a start. She gasped and nearly screamed as she sat up in her bed. "Your Majesty, your majesty," a soft, gentle voice cooed in her ear. It jolted her out of her state of fright and dread. It was accompanied by soft, eager hands that took hold of her shoulders. "Majesty?" The voice called. She could see a face stretching before her. The face was round and youthful, but the features were hard to make out in the dimly lit chamber. There were scarcely any candles lit and it seemed as though night had fallen. "Majesty?"

"Lady Kareena?" The queen of Asgard asked, her voice weak and breathy. She blinked in the dim light. She squinted trying to make out the figure before her. Her hands reached out to clasp the other woman's hand.

"N-no Majesty," the person confessed. She shook her head. "She's attending to another matter with a noblewoman, but I can surely fetch her for you, my lady."

"No," Queen Frigga sighed. "No, you will do just fine," she nodded pleasantly. "Your presence is soothing, child," she stated.

The young woman blushed at the kind words of the wife of Odin, "You are too kind Your Highness, but surely you want me to get one of your ladies or at least let me get Healer Onrac. He did wish for me to inform him immediately when you awakened. That was if you awakened," she went on. The young maiden started playing with her fingers. "Not that we didn't want you to awaken," she yelped out after realizing what she had said. "I mean of course we want you awake and alive Your Majesty," the young girl muttered. She looked down and played with her fingers.

Queen Frigga mildly chuckled and patted the young maiden's hands. The girl's hands stopped quivering at the regal woman's tender touch. The queen started to smile, but then her eyes grew wide, her hands clenched the younger woman's. She gasped and so did the maiden. The wife of Odin's big, sapphire eyes bugged out of their sockets. "Pita!" The queen nearly shrieked as she squeezed tightly on the young woman's fingers.

"Y-yes, y-yes, Your Majesty," she yelped as her fingers were pressed and rubbed together to the point of pain.

"What time is it?" She asked. Her beautiful cerulean eyes continued to widen as she once again was forced to notice her surroundings. It was so dark outside. She could feel her chest tightening. Her hands continued to squeeze Pita's. The young woman bit her lip to keep from screaming. There queen's palms were starting to sweat and she could scarcely breathe. She realized that the hour had grown later. Her eyes darted around the room, the sun had already set. How much time had passed. For all she knew it could be nearly dawn and one of her sons could be well on his way to slaughtering another and bringing Ragnorok down upon their heads.

"E-E-eventide, milady," Pita squeaked as she felt her knuckles being smashed together. She had no idea whether it was proper etiquette to pull ones hands from the queen's clasp, but she surely needed to. The young maiden continued to make a gawking gasping sound as the queen continued to squeeze tighter and tighter on her hands.

"Early evening?" Frigga pressed. It seemed so late. There was no trace of sunlight left. And her room seemed so still and quiet. She listened intently to all around her. She didn't hear any voices in the hall or outside. it seemed as though all the world was sleeping. The night was bleak, full of clouds and fog and pitch black. The moon had not risen and there was not even the faintest trace of a star in the sky. Queen Frigga's heart was clenched with fear. While one hand tightly squeezed Pita's the other clutched at her garment. It was then that Q

Pita was only able to bobble her head. She felt like she had been bobbling for forever but the queen didn't make utterance. She wondered if the queen was getting her drift. "y-y-yes, my queen," Pita squealed. "Early eventide," she replied. "Not even a quart pass the 6th hour," she expressed through gritted teeth. She didn't know how much longer she could bear her queen squeezing her hand. "Mmmmajesty, please," they young girl groaned.

Immediately Queen Frigga released Pita's hand. The queen looked around and then looked down. She saw the child's pained facial expressed as she massaged reddened fingers. "Oh goodness, dear child," the queen of Asgard expressed. She reached her elegant fingers back out to hold Pita's. The young Aesir girl nearly pulled her hand away, but Queen Frigga caught it and with grace and ease massaged the hurting hand. "I am so sorry," the all-mother apologized tenderly. Queen Frigga's magnificent, sapphire eyes shined at the girl in the dim candlelight. Pita automatically felt ashamed. It seemed so inappropriate that she a commoner, the daughter of a lowly guard should warrant an apology from the queen, especially at a time like this. Queen Frigga surely had much larger things to worry about than bruising her hand. They all did.

"oh please, your highness," Pita started. "I am sorry. Doo not fret over me my lady. Tis nothing really," she admitted as she nodded and shook her hands. "Tis I who need be attending to you, my queen," she explained. She started to pull the blankets over the queen and attempted to cover her shoulders. "Are you feeling alright, Majesty?" The young girl asked with concern. "Can I get you anything? Water, blanket, food?" Pita asked.

Queen Frigga scarcely heard the young woman who was desperately trying to find something to give to her. "Not nearly a quart past the 6th hour," Queen Frigga muttered to herself. "Then that means there is still time," the wife of Odin declared softly. The golden queen of the realm nodded and rubbed her hands together. "But I haven't a moment to lose," she insisted and started to swing her feet out of the bed.

"A moment to lose, Your Majesty?" Young Pita questioned as she marched around the room following behind the queen as she gathered her things. The queen picked up a candlestick as she traipsed around the room searching for her robe and royal gowns. "My lady, please, allow me to get the things that you need," Pita offered. She followed the queen as she walked into her walk in closet and pulled out different items. The clothing flew every which way. Young Pita yelped as she saw the elegant gowns being strewn this way and that. Garments of red velvet were simply tossed to the floor as if they were rags. Robes and dresses made of silk and satin and musilin were disregarded and pulled off their hangers without care. Pita rushed about darting this way and that trying to catch the clothes that the queen flung about. Without stretched arms the girl managed to catch a few gowns. Most still ended up on the carpeted floor. Pita scurried to gather them in her hands. It was no use scramble as she might Pita couldn't keep up with the frenzied pace at which the queen threw items out of the closet.

"Where is it? Oh it must be here," Queen Frigga said as she raked her hands through her blonde tendrils. Her long hair was wild about her head, sweat-soaked and dirty. It tangled as she ran her hands through it. She shook her head and then quickly returned to her work of throwing her lovely dresses.

"Majesty!" Pita gasped as she tripped over one gown while trying to pick up another. The maiden was sprawled out across the floor helplessly trapped within the queen's garments. She tried to get to her feet with great care not wanting to damage any of her queen's royal things. "Perhaps I can fetch Lady Kareena, surely she would be able to help you find whatever it is you seek," said Pita breathlessly. She finally was standing upright with her arms loaded with the big, elaborate and heavy jewel covered gowns of Queen Frigga. Pita swayed trying to find her balance with the long gowns in her arms. "Majesty," she breathed once more. Her brow was sweating, but her hands weren't free to allow her to wipe it. She thought she made have caught a break. The golden queen of Asgard's frenzy seemed to be slowing. Queen Frigga chose a an elegant white and gold cloak to drape around her shoulders. Pita's shoulders relaxed for a moment and the she let out a pent up sigh. No sooner had her shoulders slumped than did a ball gown come sailing her way. The ornate snow white gown landed on top of her head and it was so thick with krinlin and beading that it knocked the girl to the ground with a shout.

"Perhaps it is in the tapestry gallery," Frigga muttered as she worried her lower lip and wrung her sweaty hands. "I...I..I haven't a moment to spare," she expressed to herself as she turned about. She looked around. She beheld the mess she had made but didn't note it. She stepped over her disheveled gowns and over Young Pita who was buried beneath them. She hurried to the door of her chamber. "Shoes?" Queen Frigga froze in her tracks as she took notice of her bare feet. It certainly seemed improper for the Queen of Asgard to appear shoeless, but these were desperate and dangerous times and there was no need for anyone to stand on ceremony. She had already wasted too many precious moments looking for an item that was not there. She couldn't spare anymore trying to find a pair of slippers or matching sandals. "Nevermind," she said and reached her hand toward the handle of her bedchamber door.

"Queen Frigga," Pita shouted as she clawed her way from out of being entangled in the fine garments. "Wait!" She squealed. "You must rest, my lady. You are not suppose to leave the room," she called out while on her knees. "What am I saying?" The young peasant girl shook her head. "You are not supposed to be leaving the bed! Oh Queen Frigga." She mumbled as she pushed herself to her feet. She looked about wildly as she kicked the royal dresses to the side and started to exit the closet and enter back into the chamber. "Queen Frigga! Queen Frigga!" She called. There was no sign of the wife of Odin. The only thing that young Pita saw was an open door.

"Oh no!" Pita's hands flew toward her mouth. Oh no. Oh dear. What was she going to do? She was supposed to be watching over the queen. There were so many matters that needed attending to. Ragnorok was upon them. Everyone was frantic and panicked. Truthfully, so was she, but she'd been given a job. She hadn't been the most qualified for the job. Not at all. She was just a girl. Who was she to tend the queen? But then again who was she to deny a command or request given to her by her betters. She had just been told to sit with Queen Frigga and to inform Healer Onrac if there were any changes and she hadn't even done that! Oh why hadn't she just informed Healer Onrac as soon as Queen Frigga had awakened?

The master healer had informed her that the queen was in a delicate and fragile state both mentally and physically. Well of course she was. Everybody was! How couldn't they all be? How could people be calm when an announcement had wrung throughout the entire realm that Loki, that ungrateful worm, that vile betrayer had taken over the Imperial City, had possession of the Aether and was fit to kill his own brother at dawn? With tidings such as those no one was fairing very well. People had just started screaming and running like mad throughout the palace. Some were so desperate, so terrified and full of despair that they started rushing to the roof of the Southern Palace and had it not been for the soldiers stationed up there they would have plummeted to their doom. Many had been dragged back to their quarters frantically kicking and screaming, declaring that they would rather die than live under the evil of Ragnorok or the tyranny of Loki and Malekith. Healer Onrac and his staff had many to attend to. They'd had to strap some nobles to their beds and sedate others.

Not to mention King Odin grew weaker and weaker with every passing minute. He was not breathing on his own at all. He had two seizures and had gone into cardiac arrest since Queen Frigga had fainted after hearing Loki's dreadful broadcast. All of the king's shields were down. Not lowered, but completely knocked down by his state of mental duress. His Odin-force was failing him and his auras had become so completely dismal and gray that they were virtually non-existent. It was just a matter of time. Really, the only reason that King Odin had managed to this want was because of the tireless work of the healers. Healer Onrac had assigned several young Healers to stand guard over Odin. They worked their ancient healing arts. They surrounded him in a protective bubble of water from healing pools of Jaasan. The pools of Jaasan were had a large mineral deposit there, many of which were used in making healing crystals. They even force fed the king herbal teas rich with the extract of Idunn's apples in them. But the work was grueling and exhausting on the healers as well as on the King of Asgard. It was against Healer Onrac's greater ideal to keep any patient on life support when all signs of life were starting to fade. It was a form of torture after a certain point and no long an act of mercy or healing. He didn't want the all-father to languish. Nor did he want to be responsible for the all-father's death. Though if he allowed his fellow healers to cease in their ministrations the king would probably succumb to his symptoms with in minutes. Maybe it would be better that way. At least Odin could die without having to see Ragnorok unfold. Still, it was a call that truly only Queen Frigga could make. That was why he has wanted her to stay with the queen. ASgard couldn't lose both their monarchs at a time like this.

Pita, managed to gather her wits about her. She looked around and noticed a pair of silk and fur slippers tucked under the queen's bed. She grabbed them and immediately went after Queen Frigga. "Your Majesty! Your Majesty!" Pita cried down the hall. She watched Queen Frigga's undergarments swishing and swashing as she raced down the hall. Pita remained on the royal woman's tail as she waved a pair of slippers in her hand.

It was no use. Queen Frigga was moving at lightning speed and had tunnel vision. There was no stopping her as her bare feet slapped against the cold marble floor. "My queen, my queen" the young daughter of a guard continued to scream. "Oh Majesty, you'll catch cold without anything on your feet!"

The female ruler of Asgard all at once came to an abrupt halt as she stood before two great silver doors. The doors stood the entire height of the distance between the ceiling and the floor. They sparkled and glistened and there were wonderful intricate carvings on them. Carvings that looked like big beautiful clouds and tossing waves and between the waves and the clouds there was a magnificent star. It was carved in such a fashion that it looked as if it would float right off of the door and up into the heavens and it would shine down upon them right then and there. Pita knew the room. She knew every room in the palace. Not that she'd been in every room. There were some rooms that she was not allowed in. This was one of those rooms, but she'd always been curious about this room. She wondered what sort of beautiful secrets must have lied behind that gorgeous door. It must have been some type of treasure trove.

Pita squinted as she tried to make out what the queen was doing. Her lovely hand trembled as she placed it in the center of the star. The star started to glow. It radiated with a bright, brilliant blue light. The illumination was so intense that the maiden had to shield her eyes. Queen Frigga said some words. They were long, beautiful words, but they weren't words that Pita knew. They seemed to be said in some strange language.

When little Pita finally managed to peak her eyes back open from between her fingers she was astonished to find strange italicized markings began to appear on the sides of the door. The writing was Rune, but still the words weren't those that the young woman could interpret. Soon the Rune script started to glow as well. With that the doors flew open. They flew open with a great whoosh. A gust of wind powerful enough to be labeled a hurricane was emitted from the locked room. The gust blew poor little Pita back a few steps and blew the slippers right from her hand. The young maiden was knocked clean on her backside. Pita looked around wide eyes. She expected to see Queen Frigga knocked over same as her instead she found the queen standing flat footed and proud while the winds billowed around her making her cloak and nightgown flutter around her. Her hair blowing back about her. The Queen of Asgard looked every inch worthy of the title all-mother. The young woman stared beyond dazzled at the beauty of the queen. Her mouth hung open. The wind made her mouth dry and she soon had to close it. As she did so she was able to look around and look for Queen Frigga's silk slippers. She found them. They had been tossed on the stairs. Quickly, she got up and went for them.

While young Pita dashed down the hallway and scampered down the steps, Queen Frigga proceeded to enter the sealed off chamber. It had been a long time since she'd set foot in the royal room. It was one of the royal sanctums for the queens of Asgard. It was passed down from queen to queen, a sacred place where the queen's gifts could be stored. There were rare relics in the chamber that dated back to Asgard's first queen. Each queen added to it. Placing in it personal things that marked it as her own and reflected the gifts as all-mother. Each item soon became a royal artifact.

Queen Frigga breathed in deeply just before she entered the sanctum. Perhaps she had avoided the sacred place for far too long, but truly she hadn't thought she would have much use for it or at least she had hoped she wouldn't. The chamber was cold and dark when Queen Frigga first beheld it. The sound of rushing winds still rush about it. Soon the winds settled. Frigga's hair and clothing fell back into place. The wife of Odin reached her hand out in a gracious fluid manner, instantly the desolate looking private chamber was flooded with a brilliant white light. The most amazing thing was that although the light in the chamber was distinctly a bright white the flame that glowed atop the candles was a beautiful blue. The gorgeous blue color of the flame nearly matched the color of Queen Frigga's own gorgeous sapphire orbs.

Queen Frigga quivered after setting foot in the frosty chamber. Her feet nearly froze as the slid across the cold cobblestone floor. She pulled her cloak tighter around her as she entered deeper into the oval shaped room. She examined the room with a careful eye. The chamber was quite vast and far from empty. In fact it was a treasure trove of royal artifacts. There were great, wide, stone columns throughout the chamber, resembling the style of a Parthenon. There were shelves and shelves of rare books and tomes and scrolls. Enough for a library. Queen Frigga walked toward one shelving. Her hand reached out for one of the scrolls. She reached forward and then withdrew her hand before even her fingernails could skim the papyrus.

At one time Asgard's queen had read almost all the books within the vast collection. Some of them were and ancient books of wisdom, poetry and literature. There were scrolls filled with history, science, medicine and healing and mysticisms. Still there were others of a far more personal and intimate nature. They were the Chronicles of the Queens. Private records of the affairs of Asgard taken from the diaries of the old queens. Some explained how a queen manipulated the waves and tides of politics in the courtrooms or ballroom dance floors or bedroom. Such matters were quite enthralling to a new bride and queen. When she'd first taken on the role of queen she was convinced that this library had contained every secret she needed to know to be a good queen of Asgard and a good consort to Odin.

Queen Frigga's hand finally swiped over the books. She came to the end of one of the shelves. The shelf was completely full. She had always thought that one day she would add her own journal to the great collection. She would share the things that she had learned and pass them down to future generations. Pass these truths down to the women who her sons would marry. For years she kept careful journals, recording her highs and lows, her greatest joys and sorrows during her reign Frigga laughed bitterly in her throat. Now she realized that there wasn't even enough room left on the shelf to even fit one more volume of a royal diary. A premonition. She should have known. She should have seen the signs all around her. For a woman who had been granted the title of all-mother and had been blessed with the gift of foresight how could she have been so blind. Queen Frigga tossed her hand on her forehead. The signs had been all around her, screaming at her to realize that Ragnorok would be realized in her lifetime. But she had ignored such signs, she'd tried to pretend they weren't there tried to act as if she'd never envisioned them. She'd tried to hide the things which she had seen so long ago. She'd tried to keep her premonitions a secret, but look where such foolishness had led them. Now Ragnorok was snarling at their door. Guilt welled up inside of her. Perhaps she was as much to blame for these dreadful occurances as her wayward son. Perhaps had she shared more about the nightmares and visions that had plagued her waking and sleeping moments in her younger years then Asgard and the rest of the Nine Realms would not be facing the eve of their end. Perhaps she could have done something more, said something more, been someone more... Queen Frigga gasped she doubled over with grief as she choked back a sob. Or perhaps there was nothing that could have been done to prevent these terrible happenings. Maybe she was destined to be the last queen of Asgard. Perhaps this was the way it was meant to be.

Frigga dropped her hand from off of the bookshelf, she bowed her head and slammed her eyes shut. She squeezed them shut tight to keep tears from falling and to keep herself from envisioning the terrible events of Ragnorok. No. That wasn't why she had come to this place. She hadn't come there to give up. She'd come there to take her last stand. By the Norns, she was Queen of Asgard. She was a shield-maiden without a doubt and an enchantress. If there was a battle to be fought then she was prepared to fight to her last breath and if there was a chance of fate being changed then that chance was here.

The golden-maned wife of Odin pressed on pass the bookshelves and continued to walk through the room. Her blue eyes scanning every inch of the chamber in desperate search of something. There was so much to behold. So much that her eyes not beheld in a long time. The chamber truly was a feast for the eyes. It was a cave of wonders. There were many expensive looking items stored about on shelves and in corners like urns and vases made shiny brass and fragile porcelain, studded with emeralds, rubies and sapphires. They were filled with fine ointments, exotic oils and splendid spices from every part of the Nine Realms. Some were used for medicinal purposes and others were aphrodisiacs and fertility tonics. There were staffs, scepter, wands s and other artifacts of power and prestige that had been wielded by the queens of old. They were all kept behind gold and glass cases. There were drawers, trunks and chests overflowing with jewels and necklaces, sparkling bracelets, rare amulets and dazzling rings held in elaborate treasure chests.

The inner chamber was furnished with exquisite pieces that seemed to be collected from all over the Nine Realms. The furnishings were beautiful. There were handcrafted armoires and sofas made of glittering gold, sterling silver and fine mahogany. There were wonderful chandeliers and candelabras dangling from the ceiling The chandeliers were made of diamonds and white gold. There were rugs and carpets spread out along the floor made of expensive animal pets. Along the wall was etched a gorgeous mural. It depicted the divine branches of Yggdrasil in all their splendor. Each realm was displayed in radiant splendor as it had looked in its best days. And Asgard, Asgard set as the crowned jewel ontop of the great tree. It shined on top of the highest bow. It was marvelous. Furthermore all around the silver painted walls and all throughout the limbs of the painted Yggdrasil's magnificent branches were the same Rune script markings that had been on the outside of the door.

Still the most prominent features within the room were not the gleaming, glittering, diamond chandeliers, the blue flames that burned upon the candles, the innumerable amount of books or the abundance of decadent rainbow colored assortment of jewels. It was the tapestries. It was the tapestries that Queen Frigga had come to search out. In the very back of the illustrious tapestries hung from the ceiling like the were being sold by a wealthy vendor. The royal women who bore the name all-mother before her, many of which had possessed the gift of foresight as well had woven begun weaving the tapestries long ago. It was said that each queen blessed with the sacred gift of foresight saw in part and was given a little bit of revelation of the history of the Nine Realms. Some were gifted to see the past and in their tapestries they wove the glorious stories of old. Other's were burdened with the terrible misfortune of being entrusted with the secrets of the things that were yet to come. Queen Frigga was one such of those women. Many had been woven by the queen herself when she was but a maiden. Not every vision she had had been of some awful calamity. Some of her dreams had been quite pleasant, but most were of the horrid sort. They were dreadful and unspeakable. Often as a girl she'd wake up screaming and sobbing in her bed. Her sisters would try to console her, she'd often cry herself back to sleep in her mother's arms. It had been a long time since the queen could call herself a girl, but she remembered those days of night terrors well. She remembered her mother's soothing hands drying her tears. Lovingly she'd ask about the dreams and she'd shy away look down and start to cry even harder. Her mother would remind her of what a glorious future she would have as a seer, but as a girl it didn't seem so glorious. What was worst of all was that she was forbidden to speak of what she saw. Her only escape and relief her loom. There she could fashion her visions into the most elaborate tapestries. Freeing herself from them but preserving them forever to be unaltered and protected in this sanctum. For the Norns were not fans of those who tried to alter fate.

Carefully, Frigga walked through the thick forest of tapestries. Her face was pale and streaked with tears as her bloodshot sapphire eyes scanned each and every tapestry. She pushed through the thicket furiously when she found the one that she was searching for seemed to elude her. Her breathing grew more ragged, more feverish as each overturned, woven pattern was the wrong one. "No," she gasped. "No. No," the queen muttered as she looked up and down and all around and didn't find the one to her liking. She grabbed at them fervently and then pushed them back when they proved to be useless. "No," she ground out as she beat a tapestry to the side and pressed on through the collection. None were the right one.

All at once the queen of Asgard became very hot even though the room was dreadfully chilly. She stood in the midst of the gallery of tapestries that stretched from ceiling to floor. They seemed to leap from the hutched and hinges and frames and posts and all at once attack the wife of Odin. The swirled about her, billowing at her, flapping at her, striking her, taunting her. Queen Frigga shrieked and swatted away the illustrious fabrics. Her attempts proved futile. She sought escape from the terrible thicket of tapestries. She started to run, but somehow the hanging tapestries seemed to form a maze of vibrant colors and vivid if albeit horrific images. The queen was caught in a terrible labyrinth and every time she tried to turn and escape another tapestry seemed to chase after her.

The queen was becoming very turned around. She felt dizzy and faint. She wanted to cry out, but her voice was gone. The tassels attacked once more. The queen spun around once more. There was no escaping the maze of terrible tapestries. Her knees felt weak, she started to sway. Finally, she fell to the cold cobblestone floor in a puddle of sobs. On the floor she quivered and wept. It took her a moment, but Queen Frigga managed to lift up her eyes. When she raised them she found the tapestry she had been looking for.

Young Pita had just retrieved the queen's slippers. She raced back up the steps and ran to the door outside the queen's sanctum. She stood frozen for a moment. The bright light radiating out of the room nearly blinded the child. She squinted and covered her eyes as she debated whether or not to enter the private chamber. She absolutely knew that she shouldn't. She was nothing but a peasant girl. She was not even one of the queen's ladies-in-waiting. Her heart pounded frantically with in her chest. Her best judgment urged her to just go and find Lady Kareena or another one of the ladies-in-waiting or to find Healer Onrac, but somehow she couldn't just go. She'd been charged with keeping watch over the queen and her ladyship was so positively vexed. How couldn't she be hearing of the terrible things that Loki had planned and knowing that Odin lied on the brink of death. Surely, the queen was not well and needed tending to. She must be ushered back to bed. She must at least get slippers on her feet. It wasn't proper that her majesty should appear shoeless during such a dreadfully cold night.

Timidly, little Pita dared to poke her toe inside the sanctum. She held her breath and closed her eyes as she did so. She didn't know if something terrible was set to happen to her for invading the queen's private chamber as she had. She waited a couple of seconds, her lips pressed tight together, eyes squeezed shut hard before she grew desperate for air and allowed her lips to part. Her eyes opened. She was shaking something fierce, but was amazed to find, that she still stood. Relief washed over her. Her smile only broadened when she beheld the vast array of wondrous things that were kept safe in the magnificent chamber. Dumbfounded, the youth stumbled into the room. She accidentally bumped into one of the marble topped coffee tables where something valuable rested. She couldn't help, but gawk and stare. Pita had thought she had seen all the beauty and splendor that the realm had to offer when she had the privilege of setting foot into Queen Frigga's bedchamber, but this was incredibly wondrous. She shook herself to come back to reality.

"Queen Frigga! Queen Frigga!" She cried as she moved quickly and carefully through the chamber. She took it all in as she searched for her queen. She noted the strange markings on the wall and the blue flames on the candles, but she couldn't stop to examine them as she continued to look for the queen.

Eventually, her eyes landed on the forest of tapestries that hung from the ceiling in the very back of the chamber. The child was instantly mystified by the way they swirled and danced about. She was able to catch glimpses of some of the scenes they depicted. They were quite frightening. They showed fire and destruction and war. It was enough to make Pita want to cry. Just as she felt water starting to sting her eyes did the tapestries seem to start spinning and whirling about ever more rapidly. Pita shouted, threw up her hands and was about to flee the room and send the guards in after the queen, but as the tapestries spun about Pita noticed a figure caught in the middle of the raging tempest. "Queen Frigga!" She yelled and then pushed her way into the folds of the tapestry forest. She pushed through the flapping and billowing curtains until she came to the queen.

She found Queen Frigga with her regal hand trembling as she reached up and took hold of the bottom of one of the tapestries. The queen's eyes were watering. She started to tug on the tapestry. Hard. She gave valiant effort. She gritted and strained doing everything she could to remove it from its hooks and tethers that kept it hanging. It gave way. The queen managed to rip it from its post. It fell down on top of the queen. Pita gasped. The tapestry fell on top of her royal highness and completely covered the queen. Then everything stopped. The tapestries stood still and the room grew calm. Pita rushed to the queen's side.

She hesitated for a moment. She knew that the tapestries were sacred. Dare she touch them? Her courage quickened within her when she saw Queen Frigga struggling and rustling about, trapped underneath the heavy fabric. She reached her hand over and gently pulled on the tapestry until it was off the queen.

Queen Frigga sat up, wide eyes and completely and utterly bewildered looking. Her hair wild and a few gray streaks where showing in her lovely golden mane. Pita immediately bowed. "You Majesty," she whispered. She tenderly took the queen by the shoulder. Queen Frigga turned to her and seemed to recognize her. "Y-your shoes...slippers...your highness," Pita stammered as she showed the queen the pair of white slippers in her hands. Queen Frigga silently looked at the she slippers then looked at her bare toes. All at once she curled them in as if she just realized how cold they were. Without delay Pita scooped the queen's ankle and lifted her delicate foot and tenderly slid it into the slipper.

Frigga smiled and the young maidens careful gesture. "Thank you, child," she croaked. Her voice had become quite hoarse.

Pita nodded. "Majesty, please." Let us away, you must rest. Healer Onrac did not want you up and about, My lady."

"The tapestry," Queen Frigga laughed. As she pointed to it. It sat only a few inches out of her reach.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Pita's warm brown eyes followed the queen's fingers. "It doesn't seem injured at all," Pita explained. Her fingers twitched. "I'm sorry," she bowed her head. "I didn't mean to touch it. I just wanted to free you from its weight," the young woman shrugged. "I can have someone more qualified than to hang it back up, if you'd like."

Queen Frigga shook her head, "No, no, Pita," her lovely hand reached out and touched the youngster on the shoulder. "Please, pass it to me," she requested keeping her hand extended. Pita mashed her lips together as she looked at the tapestry, but eagerly enough she inched over and gathered it into her hands and dragged it over to the queen. The tapestry seemed to weigh a ton and it was twice her body length. She was winded by the time she managed to plop it in the queen's arms. She stood up to catch her breath and looked over Queen Frigga's shoulder to catch a glimpse at the tapestry.

Frigga's beautiful finger traced over the outline of the tapestry. She knew the outline well. The weaving was masterful, but what it depicted was enough to chill the bones. The Queen of Asgard covered her mouth as she beheld it once more. She'd never wanted to behold it again. It was for that reason that she'd sent it here, to lock it away. But like so many things that were often hidden it had resurfaced once more. The background of the fabric was a muted gray tone, nothing impressive, but the stitching was solid. As her finger ran down the tapestry she touched upon other colors. Scarlet threads and cobalt blue and some gold was intwined as well. There was white and black and even some red. All of these colors mixing together to create an image that was most unpleasant.

It was a terrifying scene in which her husband, Odin, King of Asgard was fighting against Laufey, King of the Jotuns. The tapestry the displayed the battle in marvelous detail. The stretch and strain of war was etched on their faces. The definition of their muscles shown through as the clash of arms was depicted. The gleam of Odin's armor was revealed in artistful mix of multiple shades of yellow and gold. It was like looking in a history book. But something made this great portrait different than the paintings that Pita had scene in the history books at school. In the final frame Odin was on his knees. The great King was on his hands and knees and Laufey the ruler of the Frost Giants loomed over him. His eyes bloody red and his nails black as night. His muscular blue arms were stretched high above his head, just poised and waiting to strike upon the weakened king. In his frozen hands he held a mighty icy stake. The next scene that had been woven into the tapestry was almost to hideous to even bear. Pita covered her eyes after she saw it. It was Laufey ramming the icy stake clean through Odin back.

Not details were spared in the tapestry. Odin's eyes bulged in the weaving and Laufey wore a sick smile on his face. The gore was there. Pebbles of red peppered the tapestry and a giant circle of red was formed right under King Odin. Finally, Odin in the puddle of red and the gold thread that made upon his gleaming armor was replaced with a dirty red thread. And Laufey's foot was placed upon Odin's grey haired head and the Frost Giant lifted his head high as he raised Gungnir in the air.

"Oh Majesty!" Pita gasped as she shook her head. Her hand trembled as she pointed toward the scary images that were woven into the tapestry. "d-d-did you...did you make all of these?" The young peasant girl asked. She hugged herself tightly.

The Queen of Asgard shook her head in return, "Not all child," she responded.

"D-d-did you weave that one?" She inquired in a squeaky frightened voice.

"Mmm-hmm," Queen Frigga replied with a nod. "A long time ago," she said rolling her eyes and cracking a broken smile.

Pita bobbed her head to show her understand and then wipe her brow. "W-w-w-why? I...I...I mean," Pita shook herself and swallowed the thick lump that was continuing to form in her throat. She squeezed herself even tighter. She should keep her mouth shut. She had no right to question what the queen did. "Why would you want to weave such a thing?" She couldn't help, but inquired.

"Want," Queen Frigga coughed. She was still sitting on the ground with the tapestry draped across her lap like a dead man's body. "Want has nothing to do with it child. These tapestries...they came to me in visions," she stated as she gestured around her to some of the tapestries still hanging from the ceiling that she had had the terrible privilege of weaving. "Dreams...nightmares," she went on.

"Y-you dreamed this?" Queen Frigga could only give a silent nod in reply. "Oh good heavens, my queen! It must have scared you half to death!"

"Oh it did," the Queen of Asgard answered. "It scared me more than you know. After I had this terrible dream. I could not sleep. Would not sleep for nearly a month. I grew dreadfully ill," she explained. "I had this dream during the wars," she elaborated.

"Wars, milady?" The young girl asked.

"Yes, the great Cold Wars," Frigga stated. It dawned on Pita immediately after that and she remembered learning about the wars that were fought against the Jotuns. "Odin had been away so long. So long. Every day news came to the palace from the Valkyries of more and more of our troops being slain. More and more territory in Midgard being conquered by the frost. The tides seemed not to be in our favor. Then I had this dream...This terrible dream," the golden queen dug her nails into the tapestry. "I thought I was going to lose my husband. I thought Asgard was going to lose her king, I thought that the Nine Realms were to lose their all-father. I wrong Odin letters, but I got no response. I tried to forget the vision, but everytime I turned I closed my eyes the images would return. Finally I turned to the loom. You see," Queen Frigga said turning to Pita, "only through weaving can I alleviate myself from the visions. But once it is woven then it is etched in history," she explained.

"Oh my lady," Pita placed her hand on the queens shoulder. "But this did not come to pass! King Odin did not die in the Great Cold Wars. Laufey did not conquer all. " she said hopefully.

Frigga looked up at the young woman. She was so young and so full of good natured faith and hope. Frigga cupped the hand on her shoulder. She patted it and then her royal lips kissed it. "Oh my dear, if only twere so simple, but visions are seldom what they seem," she expressed as she stroked Pita's smooth cheek. The queen's hand slowly fell back down. She regally folded it back in her lap. She sighed, shoulders slumping. Her long, messy strands falling in her face. Her eyes were misty. "They don't always happen just as they appear, but they always come to pass. Always." The queent muttered.

The young girl gaped. She immediately fell to her knees next to the queen. "No! No! No! Queen Frigga! That...that can't be true," she refuted. She shook her head vigorously. Her eyes darted back and forth. "That can't be true! This...this didn't happen!" She exclaimed as she gripped the thick quilted tapestry lying in the queen's arms. "it didn't come to pass. King Odin survived," she went on nodding. Pita took the queen's hands in her own. "See! See! My lady, oh please see, these things they don't have to be true! Do they? Do they?" The young girl practically screamed. Queen Frigga's face was placid and pale, but she did not reply. "Surely, there are other prophecies shown on these tapestries that haven't come to pass either," the child pointed out.

"Haven't come to pass and won't come to pass are two very different things, my dear" Thor's mother answered, but her eyes never met Pita's large brown ones. She kept them trained on a fixed spot.

"But they won't! They won't, will they? Will they, Queen Frigga?" The child kept pressing. Her hands earnestly tugging on those of the all-mother's. Queen Frigga's fingers were long and slender, smooth as butter, they were pretty, perfect, painted, poised polished hands and yet they were quivering.

"This one is about to," Frigga stated. Her voice trembling with dread.

"W-w-what?" Pita's gut clenched. Her heart broke. It showed plainly on her face as her eyes filled with tears that she could not hold back and her face formed a horrid scowl and all the color drained from her cheeks. "No! NO!" Pita screamed she let go of Queen Frigga's hands only to grab at her head. "No," she muttered. She clawed at her heart. "That...that just can't be," she continued to shake her head. "Why are you saying such things, Majesty?' She asked as water rolled down her cheeks. "Laufey is dead," she informed the queen. "He's dead, how can he rise back up and slay our king? Surely, the Valkyries would not have spared him."

Queen Frigga blinked for the first time in several minutes. She turned her head ever so slightly and looked at Pita's horrified face. The young woman was distraught and bewildered. Frigga's heart broke. She was the Queen of Asgard, it was her job to be a leader and a pillar for her people. she was the all-mother her role was to protect and nurture her children, not expose them to all the horrors and calamities that were about the befall them. Pita was so young. She was a girl. Her heart should be full of hopes and dreams and love and excitement. Her problems should be no more than doing her chores and helping out with her younger siblings, her biggest worries should be about what she was going to wear to her first cotillion. She should have things to look forward to. Living in a seaside town as she did she be planning a day at the beach with her friend. She should be filled with thoughts of traveling the Nine Realms or thinking about the way she wanted to spend the rest of life. She should not be staring up at her queen with a heart full of dread. She should not have to live thinking that these moments could be her last.

Queen Frigga of Asgard steadied herself. She reached her arms out to young Pita. Pita for a moment hesitated, but then she quickly gave way to Queen Frigga's offer of an embrace. She leaned her head on The female ruler's shoulder and started to sob. Her tears came out in trembling aching gasps. Queen Frigga held Pita tight. She shushed and cooed and patted and stroked the maiden until she calmed. Pita was still shaking and sniffling, but she was quiet in the queen's arms.

Queiting Pita only made the scream that was ringing inside her soul even louder. Frigga looked away from the peasant girl and looked down at the tapestry. While one hand still protectively cradled Pita's head the other traced the image woven in the tapestry. Queen Frigga bit her lip to stifle the bellow welling up inside her. She pulled Pita in to a stronger embrace and brought her into her bosom. Her teeth pressed deeper into the pink flesh of her lips. The young woman's tears soaked into her garments and chest. She placed her chin on top of Pita's soft hair. A tear trickled down her cheek as her hand continued to absentmindedly trace the outline in the tapestry. Then more followed. The tears went on for as long as her sould cried out.

She didn't want the girl to be filled with despair. She'd not tell the girl the true interpretation of the tapestry. Nor would she tell the child the true meaning of her dream. She wouldn't tell Pita that dreams were filled with symbols and sometimes people stood for other people. Pita had hope that such a terrible vision would never come to pass. Why dash the young maiden's faith and leave it shattered upon the rocks. In sense Pita was still right. No it wouldn't be Laufey rising up to slay Odin, but it was something far worse.

When she'd first received the vision her heart was filled with dread and woe. She would have done anything to keep the dream from coming to pass, even give her own life in place of his. Still there was something very rational and reasonable. It was a war. A blood feud that had been dying to be hashed out. For Odin and Laufey were sworn enemies, blood-bound nemesis. Laufey had envied the all-father's position in the Nine Realms. He craved the power and he would do anything to get it. So he'd started with conquering Midgard, he knew the action would provoke Odin to act, to defend the mortals and that was what he wanted. He wanted to defeat the armies of Asgard, defeat Odin and then take his place as leader of the Nine Realms.

Perhaps the mortal hatred that Laufey carried for Odin was so strong, so deeply seated deep within side him that it could not help but be passed down through the bloodline. Laufey had always wanted to end Odin's life, to destroy Asgard, to end the Nine Realms.

Queen Frigga could feel the cry that she was keeping trapped longing to escape. As she mashed her lips further as she did her best to suppress the bloodcurdling howl that lied inside. Not wanting to disturb Pita, Queen Frigga let it out bitter tears. She started chuckling, bitterly. Her chest shaking and shoulders heaving as the brittle laugh continued. She had to laugh to keep from becoming no more than a sobbing, quivering, quaking, puddle of worry and fear and brokenness. She had to laugh and truly it was all quite laughable really. Now her son, the son who Laufey had wanted gone, the son who hated Laufey and killed him, was going to finish the job that Laufey had started. It seemed as though in every way that Thor was Odin's son Loki was proving to Laufey's son.

Oh it was monstrous! Simply monstrous! She could have expected Laufey to kill Odin. She could expected no more from a monster than that, but never in her wildest most horrifying nightmares would she had been prepared for this. The thought of Loki doing this terrible deed was simply unspeakable and incomprehensible. She hadn't been oblivious to Loki's jealousy of Thor throughout their growing up years. Nor had she been blind to the bitterness that Loki had toward Thor at times. She knew that Loki was angry and hurt. In these recent years she knew that he was probably not completely sane, but she had thought that at the very fiber of his being that he was still good and loving. She'd seen Loki's envy and rage and pain, she'd seen the bitterness and the loneliness, she'd seen it all, the trickery and the lies and deceits, but she'd also seen the goodness. She'd watched two boys growing up side by side, sharing, caring, playing, laughing, running, jumping, chasing, yelling, hugging, punching, tumbling, tustling, telling, jokes and secrets, growing, living and loving each other.

She truly tried to believe that Loki still cared about his brother, but she had seen that that wasn't true. Everything that she had thought that she had instilled in Loki; love, kindness and loyalty had been replace by what seemed by some primordial instinct. Some deep seated prejudice that that replaced the blood in his veins with ice-water and his heart with a snowball.

She would rather die than think of her sons killing one another. She'd rather slit her own throat right now than live 10 seconds into Ragnorok and witness one son slay another. She couldn't believe that this is what it had come to. She couldn't believe that Loki planned this cruel execution and would put in his lot with Malekith and unleash Ragnorok and bring about the end of time. Surely Loki wanted them all dead through his diabolical plots and schemes. He must have hated her. There was no way that Loki thought she could survive this.

Queen Frigga wanted to give up, lay down and die. If this was to come to pass she would rather die not knowing what happened. She'd rather die never knowing the pain of losing her husband, or seeing her eldest son die at the hands of the younger and watching the younger lead to the destruction of the world as she knew it. No she didn't want to live to see such things happen. She wanted to die. Dying would be a relief...it would be easy. But she refused to lay down and die. She couldn't. She was queen and she was a true Asgardian through and through and giving up was the way of the coward. Asgardians didn't give up. They didn't lay down and died and let evil rise. They fought til the last breath. They did everything within their power to withstand injustice. She was Asgard's leader. While her husband lied incapacitated fighting for his last breath and Thor was imprisoned and Loki was their nemesis, raving about like a lunatic, bent on destroying them, she was all Asgard had and she would fight for them.

"Pita," Frigga whispered calmly, still stroking the young woman's short brown hair.

"Y-y-yes, Majesty," Pita said as she slowly picked her head off of Queen Frigga's chest.

"It's going to be alright," she assured her taking her by the shoulders.

Pita blinked dolefully, her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. She rubbed under them, "R-r-really, Your Highness?" She asked.

Queen Frigga took in a sharp breath. She couldn't lie to the child. There were no guarantees now. There were only good intentions, desperate hopes and valiant efforts. "If I have any say in it, Pita," she nodded.

Pita nodded back at her ruler, but her face was puzzled, "But how, Your Majesty?" The girl questioned shrugging her shoulders. Frigga's sapphire eyes dropped to stare down at the weaving in her lap once more. Her nails dug into the tremendous fabric. She started pulling and tugging on it as hard as she could, but nothing happened. "Your Majesty, what are you doing" the young woman asked as she shook her head.

Queen Frigga gritted and strained a little bit more as she continued to tug. Exhausted, her shoulders slumped. "Nothing successful, my dear," she confessed. The royal woman looked Queen Frigga let her hands fall away from tugging at the sides of the fabric. She slowly rose to her feet. The heavy tapestry slid from her lap, but Queen Frigga dragged it by one tassle across the floor. Pita scuttled on the floor, trying to look past the other tapestries to figure out where the Queen of Asgard was going. She watched as the queen walked over to one of the podiums that stood proud with in the sanctum.

The podium was made of sturdy marble. The pedestal was rather tall and was formed in a classic Grecian style. On top of the column sat a dark box. The box was made of solid onyx and overlaid with sparkling silver. The box was rather small and flat. Pita crawled closer behind the queen's skirt-tails. She barely poked her head out of the thicket of tapestries before she save the queen approach the box. She still had the tapestry hanging limply in her hand. Pita watched with keen interest what the queen was doing. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and squinted trying to make out what the female ruler of Asgard was up to. The queen paused before the black and silver box. Her hands quivered as she held them up over the box. The box shook as well while Queen Frigga held her hand above it. Pita watched as Queen Frigga sucked in a sharp breath. Then she fearlessly plunged her hand into the box. Pita held her breath. She didn't know what was in the box. She watched with amazement as Frigga pulled out a pair of dark, jagged, rusty pair of shears. They were so different from most of the other artifacts in the Queens' Sanctum. Most things were lovely and sparkly, but these scissors were nearly decrepit.

Queen Frigga looked at the pair of ancient scissors with determination and wonder in her eyes. These fabled scissors were older than she was. Legend and history collided and wove a story that told that these scissors were once the possession of the first sages of the Norns. Three wisewomen who were seers. They wove the first tapestries of history and placed them in the halls of the Nornish King. The scissors had once been made of glittering gold, but when their purpose was corrupted then so were they. The legend told of how a mortal king once sought out the wisdom of the Norns to learn of his future. The Norns answered him and told him that the fate of his kingdom was to be destroyed by a more powerful enemy. The king in distress beseeched the Norns for a way to change his fate. The three female sages refused his attempts to bribe them, but the youngest of the three took pity on the king for her was very handsome to look upon. She told him that she knew of a way in which he could save his kingdom. Desperate, the king was willing to do anything to have his fate changed. He offered the young sage, gold and riches and a temple dedicated for honor in his kingdom. But she did not want that. She had lived many centuries and had never known a man. She wanted the king to take her as his wife. The king readily agreed. For not only was the Norn very beautiful to behold, but he realized with her at his side he would be invincible. So he took her to wife. They had a beautiful wedding which was attended and sanctioned by the great king of the Norns. As a wedding gift to her royal husband, the sage took the Shears of Destiny and cut the fabric of his fate. When her husband went into battle against the enemy kingdom he was victorious and than his kingdom being conquered, her was a conqueror. The human king waged war against many nations and kingdoms after that, with his wife wielding the Shears of Destiny he won every battle against every foe he faced, But the human king grew greedy and ruthless with the power. He started wars with kingdoms unprovoked, executed their leaders and took over the lands. The king was forming and empire and planned to take over the entire world. His Norn wife begged him to stop, but he would heed her not. And she felt powerless to refuse him for she loved him so and knew if she did not alter the fabrics of his fate he would surely die.

Finally, the other sages found out about what was going on and they informed the Nornish King. The Nornish King was furious. He entreated the mortal king to cease and desist with his global conquest, but the mortal refused. Instead he demanded that his wife take the Shears of Destiny and cut the fabric of the Nornish King's fate and make it so that the King of the Norns would die. The young sage started to go into the courts of time, but realizing that if she did as her husband asked the ramifications could be disastrous for all, she chose not to do so.

When the king of the Norns and mortal emperor met of the battlefield once more the king of the Norns offered the mortal a chance to repent of his wicked ways. The human, thinking that his fate had been sealed to his advantage he raised his sword to the king of the Norns. With that a battle raged between the two, but it was short lived in less than a fortnight the mortal king was slain.

When the battle ended the young sage mourned her husband and faced judgment from her king. As punishment for using the powers that had been vested in her for selfish purposes the King of the Norns banished her to Midgard. She was not stripped of her powers, but she was stripped of eye sight so that she would never again be beguiled by what she saw. And the scissors that some called the Shears of Destiny were buried deep within the Temple of Tribute. It took more than 1000 years before a troop of Einherjar excavated the rare artifact and brought it back to Asgard to present of the first queen to rule Asgard on her own.

The current queen of Asgard continued to gaze down at the ancient pair of scissors with fear and reverence. They didn't look like much. To any beholder they were simply a pair of rusty looked more like a shepherds' tool better suited for shearing sheep rather than altering destiny. They looked like an old family heirloom something that an ailing grandmother would give as a part of her grandddaughters' dowry. The scissors weren't even particularly very sharp. But those dull blades had the power to change fate and alter reality. Frigga turned the scissors over several times and studied them. She ran her fingers over the dull blade and then put the blade to her lips. She scraped it across her skin as roughly as she could. Wishing and willing it to cut her, but the blunt blade made no injury on her flawless skin. She considered her decision carefully. She knew that this was not something that should be taken lightly. That as Queen of Asgard, all-mother and a woman blessed with the gift of foresight that she should know better than trying to tamper with fate, for doing so could have dire consequences. But nothing could be more dire than what they were already facing. Ragnorok. There was no fate for them that was worse than the ending and the destruction of everything that was good in the cosmos. She didn't know if it would work. There was no evidence that the Shears of Destiny would actually work. There was just a very old legend. But these were desperate times. She had to take desperate measures. The queen was prepared to take matters into her own hands.

The Queen of Asgard raised the tapestry dangling from her hands. She painstakingly raised it toward the scissors. She sucked in a sharp breath. She mashed her lips together. She closed her eyes as she brought the hem of the tapestry to edge of the scissor's blade. She said a prayer to the Norns. Surely, they did not want such calamity to befall them. Hopefully they would approve with her tampering with fate.

Pita felt a lump form in her throat as she watched what the queen was about to do. She scrambled to her feet. She started running through the thick forest of hanging tapestries, rushing to reach the queen.

The golden wife of Odin counted to three in her head and then she made the first snip into the tapestry. She paused after making the tiny incision. She'd barely cut the hem of the tapestry. Her heart was pounding. She opened her crystal blue eyes. She was amazed the scissors had actually made the cut. They seemed so old and rusty. She was prepared for them not to work. Now that she 'd seen that she was able to make the incision, Queen Frigga could feel herself starting to tremble. She half was expected thunder to roar and lightning to flash all around the room after what she had done. That didn't happen. Queen Frigga looked around and found that the ground wasn't crumbling beneath her, but the fabric of the tapestry that she had woven all those years ago was slowly starting to unravel. Desperate, she picked the shears back up and made one more cut deeper into the cloth. She dropped the Shears of Destiny and once more started to claw at the tapestry. She wanted to feel the feeling of ripping it apart with her bare hands. She'd created with her bare hands. She felt as responsible for Ragnorok as her son Loki. If she hadn't been so desperate to escape the nightmare of her husband being slain than that tapestry would have never hung in these sacred halls, sealing their fates.

Pita looked on the queen's display with interest. She gasped as she watched the queen's violent display as she tore into the quilted pattern. Queen Frigga could feel the young girl's eyes on her. It was only the child's nervous stares that drew the wife of Odin from her tirade. She looked down at her handy work, despite her vicious effort she hadn't torn too deep into the tapestry. She stopped herself. She didn't know how far she should go.

"Majesty," Pita cried breathlessly. she took hold of the other side of the tapestry her hands. "Stop!" she nearly screamed. "What are you doing?" She asked in bewilderment.

"Doing what I can to save us, my child," The queen explained.

"But Majesty..." Pita whispered as she took hold on the tasseled end of one of the tapestries. :These tapestries..." she panted. "They are sacred," the young woman stated to her queen. "They should not be destroyed." the girl said with tears in her eyes.

The Queen of Asgard looked down at the mutilated tapestry that she was holding in both of her trembling hands. "Oh dear Pita...this could be the only way," The queen whispered back.

"But what if it makes matters worse? Like in the legend?"

The blonde-haired Queen of the Aesir shook her head. "There is nothing worse than Ragnorok, child," she expressed to the hopeful girl. Pita hung her head. "But," the queen said after ta moment of pause. "Do you trust me as your queen, Pita?" Frigga asked.

Young Pita bobbed her head vigorously, "Oh yes, milady, of course!" She agreed in earnest. "I know that you would do everything to save us, but..." The young girl hesitated playing with her fingers.

Queen Frigga snapped her fingers. Her eyes went wide for just a second. There was a new gleam in her eyes that shined with hopefulness as she started to pace about. "Maybe there is something else I can do," she mumbled Frigga stroked the young woman's damp cheek. "I must make contact with Loki," she said more to herself than to the young peasant girl. The queen wrung her hands eagerly.

"WHAT! Majesty!" Pita shrieked. "What? How can you even think of speaking to that monster?" She shook her head and pulled herself from the queen.

"He is still my son, Pita," the queen replied.

Pita twisted up her nose, "He is the son who wants t kill your other son! Our future king! He is the son who attacked Midgard! He is the son who has led to all of this! Majesty How can you still claim him?" Pita's large eyes were filling up with tears. "He is evil! Pure evil!"

"You are right, child," Frigga hung her head. "He is responsible for all of this," she gestured to the torn tapestry still being held between them. "You are right," she nodded once more. Queen Frigga felt a deep sorrow. How could the son she loved so have become this wild animal filled with so much madness, vengeance and hate. "and therefore unless other forces intervene he needs to be the one responsible for making this right."

"Make it right? Make it right?" Pita shook her head. "Your Highness there is nothing right about him! He is twisted and corrupt. He will never stop this madness! This is what he wants. He said it himself. He's going to kill Prince Thor in front of all us," Pita pulled her hand toward her face.

"Pita," Queen Pita lovingly whispered as she grabbed at the peasant girl's tanned hands. "Pita, I don't know if trying to talk to Loki is going to work," she explained.

"It won't! It won't!" Young Pita started to cry.

"Just like I don't know if cutting into this tapestry will solve anything," as she held up the torn tapestry. "But I do know that I have to try everything in my power to prevent Ragnorok from coming upon us. I would be less than a queen and unfit of the title if I didn't try with all might every possible solution to save Asgard. I know for certain that if Loki slays his brother and Convergence comes then Ragnorok is for certain. I know much of fate Pita. I have had the gift of foresight since I was child. I know that Ragnorok will come. Eventually it will come. But it doesn't have to come this day. It doesn't have to come by Loki's hand. He has a choice. I would be less than a mother if I did not do everything that I could to save my sons," she expressed. "Speaking of which I think you should head home to your own family," the all-mother advised.

Young Pita shook her head. "No, no, no, Your Majesty! I will not abandon you! You need me!" Pita exclaimed.

The soft hands of the ruling woman cupped Pita's face. "You have been so helpful to me, dear one, but I am sure that your mother is worried sick about you," she said with a smile.

"I am sure she would be proud to know that I am serving, Your Majesty," the young woman said with a curtsy.

"I must insist, Pita," The queen replied. "I know in these dreadful hours I would want my children around me," she explained hanging her head. "I can't have my sons to hold. I cannot bear to think of another mother feeling the same. I will not be responsible for it," the golden-locked female ruler of Agsard said raising her head.

Pita swallowed. She nodded in understanding. She did not want to abandon her queen. Queen Frigga was so beautiful and gracious and kind and wise. She was all the things that the youth had ever heard she was and then some. She felt safe with Queen Frigga and she felt important knowing that she had served her queen, but truth be told she also longed for her own mother. Tonight could be the last night that they would spend together as a family. For by this time tomorrow everything could be destroyed. She could have no home, she could have no family. She wanted to wrap her arms around her brothers and sisters and mother and father and give them a fond farewell if this was to be the end.

Pita rushed into the queen's arms and gave her one last hug. The hug was tight and powerful. Frigga kissed the top of the girl's forehead. "Oh Your Highness, to Frigga do you truly think that there is anyway to keep Ragnorok from coming?" she asked looking up at the queen with water in her eyes.

Before Queen Frigga could answer, Healer Onrac came rushing through the sanctum door. "Queen Frigga! Queen Frigga!" the bald physician shouted as he raced through the room. "My queen! My queen! Where are you?" he called.

"Over here, Healer Onrac," she said waving to him from her position by the pedestal. She still had her hand on Pita's back.

"Your Majesty," the healer bowed. "What are you doing out of bed?" he asked in alarm. He swiveleved his head in young Pita's direction. "Pita! You were supposed to inform me the moment Queen Frigga awakened," he chastised.

"I...I...I" Young Pita stuttered.

Queen Frigga stood protectively in front of the young woman who had been a handmaiden to her for the past few days. "I sprang up from the bed like a weed and dashed to the sanctum. "Poor Pita has been trying to convince me to get back to bed the whole time," Frigga placed as hand on the maiden's shoulder.

"I see," Healer Onrac inclined his head toward the peasant girl. "obviously, she did a poor job." Pita hung her head. "Your Majesty, I have most urgent news!" he stressed.

The heart of the Queen of Asgard stopped for just a minute. "Odin?" the Queen's voice came out breathy and ragged as she reached for her personal physician's hand. Her heart was in her throat.

Pita's eyes bugged out her head as she waited with baited breath for the healer's words. "No, milady," he responded. Both the queen and Pita heaved a simultaneous sigh of relief. "My king does not fair well. The healers are doing all they can, but his vitals are so weak...his breathing so shallow, with out the life supports he would not survive. Majesty, I do not know it if it is wise to prolong this," he sighed.

"Please, Healer Onrac!" Queen Frigga threw one hand over her mouth and the other one in the air. "Did you have any other news for me?" she inquired. She couldn't bear to hear such distressing news about her husband. She knew it was cruel to have Odin linger, but she could not let him go. Not yet...not when there was a still a chance Ragnorok wouldn't come to pass. If Ragnorok was to come then she would allow for Healer Onrac to remove all of the life saving appratuses from Odin because she didn't want him to have to deal with Ragnorok coming to pass under his watch.

"Oh, yes, yes my queen," the lead healer responded. He nodded and strolled closer to her. " We have just received word from the Imperial City," he reported.

"The Imperial City?" a smile spread across the queen's face. "From the palace? Is it from Loki?" she pressed. The Queen gripped at her heart.

"No, milady. It came via courier pigeon. It bears the signature and seal of Prime Minister Algrim," he stated. He handed the queen the scroll. She snatched the scroll from Healer Onrac's big, strong, brown hand and unraveled it quickly. Her blue eyes darted back and forth quickly over the words that seemed to be hurriedly scrawled over the piece of parchment. Queen Frigga's mouth fell open. She pressed the parchment scroll to her chest. Then her hand went limp and she allowed the her hand to fall by her side.

"Queen Frigga, is everything alright?" Asked Onrac as he glanced over her shoulder.

Queen Frigga rolled the scroll back up. She shook her head. "Many of our people have made it to the safety of the shelters," she explained.

"That's good!" the healer expressed.

"Yes," Queen Frigga muttered as she started to drift. "There are many Einherjar and warriors and men of Asgard bunkered there," she explained.

"This is wonderful news, Majesty," Healer Onrac walked behind her.

"Yes," Queen Frigga nodded, she walked with no purpose, but her eyes were wide and distant.

"What is the trouble then, my queen?" Onrac's voice was tender as he touched the queen's should

"They are planning to blow up the palace. "

"What?"

" In order to stop Loki and Malekith... to keep them from unleashing the Aether..." She shook her blonde-haired head. "they want to blow up the palace by midnight," she stated her eyes wide and vacant.

"It is a wise plan," Onrac stated. "If Malekith and Loki are dead then we are spared from this calamity."

"But what of Prince Thor?" Asked Pita.

"Oh my goodness," Onrac gasped. "The girl is right! Prince Thor is still a prisoner with in the palace," he pointed out.

"He'll be blown to smitherines!" Pita exclaimed.

Frigga shook her head. She staggered backward and placed her hand upon her head as she reached for one of the mantle's to lean upon. "They'll both be blown to bits," she whispered.

"What about a rescue," Healer Onrac pointed out quickly. In the background Pita nodded vigorously.

"There isn't enough time," Frigga explained as she tried to straighten herself. Her legs felt as weak as if they were made out of rubber. "Besides," Queen Frigga said as she started to sway. "The palace is crawling with Dark-Elves. I doubt they could get men through," she expressed.

"Oh no, Your Highness," Onrac lamented.

"They want me to approve the action," Queen Frigga stated.

"To approve a military assault that would kill your own son?" Onrac questioned. Healer Onrac had known Queen Frigga for many years. He was young when he first came to the palace as a specialist when Queen Frigga was first pregnant. He'd seen her through several miscarriages. He'd known how much her heart ached for was with her when she finally became pregnant with Thor. She was so committed to the safety of the child within her womb that was willing to be on bed rest for 6 months out of her pregnancy. He was amazed at the care the queen had taken in her diet while with child. Even once Thor was born and she was nursing him she maintained her healthy eating habits for the babe's sake. Frigga had been a devoted mother to Thor since before he was born. He couldn't imagine how she felt in this moment.

"Both my sons!" The royal woman snapped. He abrasive attitude startled her physician. He couldn't that Queen Frigga actually still referred to that rotten creature as her son. "Majesty, Loki is an animal! He's a rabid dog off his chain. He must be stopped! He has to be stopped at any cost! At any cost!" He gripped her by the shoulders.

"And what of my sons!" The golden coiffed queen screamed in the healer's face. "My sons! They are still my sons," she rambled off as she pulled away from the head healer's strong hands. "My babies," she sobbed as she covered her trembling lips with her hand.

"Oh Queen Frigga," Healer Onrac marched across the room to following behind the queen. Pensively Frigga tip-toed behind the statuesque bald healer. Onrac reached out his hand and touched Queen Frigga on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, my lady, I did not mean to be insensitive," he states. He pressed his lips together... "It's...just...oh merciful Yggdrasil...it's Ragnorok!" He pulled his hand down from Queen Frigga's shoulder and squeezed his fingers into a tight fist. Queen Frigga's hands were also clenched. The only thing that made the Queen of ASgard unball her hands was the feeling of Pita's petite fingers reaching for hers. She looked down at the maiden. Who stared up at her trustingly. what do you are you going to do?" Asked Onrac as he touched the queen's shoulder.

Her cerulean eyes were closed for a moment. Then they popped back open. They held a fierce determination with in them. "I have the contact Loki," she said in a breath.

---

All the while Lady Sigyn Arn daughter had been ripping and running and racing through the catacombs in the lower recesses of the palace dungeon. She was out of breath, dirty, muddy and sweaty. She was so weary. her lungs ached. Her heart was pounding. Her legs trembled with fatigue. Finally, tired as she was she was forced to press her back against the slime, slick wall for a rest.

The wall was filthy, coated with water and mold and cobwebs. Normally, Lady Sigyn would have hated to touch it, but she was so exhausted that she needed to catch her breath for but a moment. Once she leaned against the wall, she immediately slid down it. She plopped herself right on to the floor. It wasn't much of a floor. This deep into the dungeon the floor was little more than wooden planks paired together with a few large stones, but it was mostly mud. Sigyn sat down right in a puddle. She yelped as the cold, dirty water stained her dress. She looked down. Her poor dress was practically torn to shreds already. It was tattered and ripped. It looked so bad that she could scarcely even call it a frock anymore, it was nothing more than rags.

Sigyn picked at her ragged garment. It was pathetic. "No! No! No! NOOOO," Sigyn whined stomping her feet on the muddly floorboards below. It wasn't the dress. It was everything. It was overwhelming. She was sure that she'd been searching for Prince Thor for hours. She pressed her golden-haired head against the nasty dungeon wall. She raked one had through her messy tendrils. Tears slowly slid from her golden eyes. It took all with in her to keep from wailing aloud.

She'd searched so many halls and pathways throughout the dungeon. She'd gone up and down steps and in and out of every cell. She'd held up her torch and scoured the insides of the tiny prison confines. But she hadn't found Prince Thor. She'd found everything else though. She'd seen sights in those prison holds that her lovely golden eyes had never wanted to behold. She'd raced into some rooms most of the cells had the walls blown out and the plexiglass force-fields had been broken and smashed through in the first attack that the Dark-Elves made against the palace only a week ago. She had been able to step right in to the cells, but she'd wished she hadn't. Inside many of those cells were dead bodies. Bodies. Bodies. So many bodies. Big bodies and little bodies. Bodies of every species and creed. Some of those bodies were mangled so terribly that one wouldn't know if they were man or beast. Blood was splattered against the wall. There was bright red and dingy brown and charcoal black and some that was navy blue. It was like some sort of sick oil painting. But Sigyn knew that all those colors were the colors of someones blood. Even those criminals didn't deserve to be brutalized and hacked up in such a manner. Vile as those creatures were she would have rather seen them have a proper Viking funeral with pyres set aflame rather than have found their broken bodies scattered across the cells.

Lady Sigyn felt like she had walked into a hundred confines that held such ghastly sights and each time she went into a new one it was just as sickening and horrific as the first time. Each time she'd walk in and her large golden dubloon eyes would bug out of their sockets and she'd feel so nauseous that's she sink down to her knees. The wretched stench of the rotting bodies linger in her nostrils. It was so putrid and foul smelling that it forced the blonde-haired daughter of Admiral Arn to flee the room. As she'd leave she'd scream and cry and then she'd vomit. She'd vomited so many times that she'd felt as if she was gagging up her own innards. She'd thrown up so much that she started to retch blood.

Sigyn walked along the corridors and she saw burned bodies. It was like something from a nightmare to see the faces of guards and soldiers charred to a crisp. Their skin turned to molten rock, by the hand of Malekith's beast, Kursed. At one point Sigyn dropped to her knees, she felt like she was unable to breathe and she started to weep over the bodies. She cried until it hurt. She couldn't imagine any being in the universe being so cold hearted they could commit this type of abominable atrocity over and over again.

Sigyn even prayed over some of the burnt bodies. She tried to offer the proper words of farewell so that a soul could be recieved into Valhalla. It seemed the least she could do for these brave prison guards who had done their duty for the realms. But there were too many, far too many. She would have been there until Convergence had she tried to pay respects to each body. So she pressed on. She ran. She ran as fast as her little feet could carry her. She fled the stench of rotting corpses and the rancid odor of sulfur and blood and bile. She ran away from them blinded by her tears and the dirt washing into her eyes from smudged face. She hadn't been able to see where she was going. She fell down a staircase and twisted her ankle.

It was only now that she had finally take a brief moment of pause that she could feel the throb in her ankle. By the dim light of the torch that she held unsteadily in her left hand, she could finally examine her ankle. She pulled up her torn gown. Her ankle was swollen the size of a baseball. It was red and tender.

Sigyn hissed as she tried to put enough weight on the ankle to stand. It was so painful. She knew she should get up. She needed to keep going, keep searching. She had to find Prince Thor. But she didn't know where else to look. She was so sure that she had checked ever level of the dungeons she'd searched ever prisonhold. As she went into the lower recesses of the dungeons she found rooms filled with rats gnawing on the skeletons of those long gone.

"Oh what am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?" Sigyn asked as she shook her head back and forth. "I...I...I...I gotta find Thor," she told herself. But the pain she felt was so great, her trembling was so strong, her fatigue was so heavy. She didn't know if she could carry on. "Think! Think! Think!" she chided herself, she pounded the palm of her hand against her forehead. But she couldn't think. She couldn't think anymore. She couldn't think anymore pass the way her heart was drumming inside of her ribcage, her head was aching, her whole body shaking, her lungs burned, her nose ran and her eyes leaked, her heart was breaking. With all that any rational thought seemed impossible. "Foolish! Foolish!" She chastised herself for not being able to think of any other place. If she was smarter she would have been able to find Prince Thor, but she wasn't smarter. She was who she was just a foolish girl taking on a fools mission. She grimaced. What had made her think that she even had a chance of rescuing Prince Thor. She wasn't a warrior. Just because she knew the catacombs! She tossed her head back and laughed. She should have listened to guards and officers when they told her not go back. But she'd pressed on. Now she'd not only endangered her own life, but Prince Thor's life and the lives of all of Asgard. "Oh Norns, I'm a fool," she sobbed into her hands. "But merciful Yggdrasil help me," she prayed and folded her hands. "Fate be kind, give me time," she supplicated. Despite the frailty of her mind, Sigyn thought some more about the possible places where Prince Thor could have been kept. She was sure she'd searched everywhere. Until she realized she hadn't.

She gasped and smile spread on her small, chapped pink lips as she thought of the one place that she hadn't checked. It should have been the first place she'd went to though...Loki's old holding.

With renewed strength and zeal, Sigyn managed to press her way up against the slime slick wall and on to her feet. She shook herself and gritted her teeth as she forced weight upon her ankle. It didn't hurt so much if she didn't think to hard about it. She hobbled forward. She made her way as quick as she could down the corridor. "Come on," the queen's lady-in-waiting told herself with every painstaking step she took. "Just a little further," she whispered through gritted teeth as she continued.

She had almost forgotten how far it was to get to Loki's cell. It must have been the lowest point in the whole castle. The all-father had put him there for various reasons. One was to keep him from being a spectacle in his Frost Giant form, but another was to drown out his awful screams which were enough to wake the dead. Sigyn shuddered she could still hear the terrible bloodcurdling scream the closer she drew to Loki's cell.

Down and down she went each spiraling staircase until she finally reached a dark and empty hallway. There was no light. And even her torch could not seem to penetrate the thick blackness that overtook the corridor. She could only see as far out as her hand could reach and no further. The blonde-haired Aesir maiden took very careful steps as she walked down the hall. She felt as if she could feel things that were slimy and wet and hairy scurrying over her feet. "EEK!" She squeaked as she felt something tingly crawling on her leg, but she dare not to look down. Rather she tried to move faster and quicker down the hall and to get to Loki's old holding.

"Hello! Hello!" She called coming down the hall. There was no response, but her own voice coming back to her and the subtle putrid wind that rustled through the barren hallway. Sigyn felt the wall as she made her way down the corridor. Her ankle growing weak. "Hello? Prince Thor?" She shouted ever hopeful, but still she didn't receive an answer.

Finally, she came to the end of the hallway and there was the door to Loki's old prison chamber. Sigyn raised her torch. It was flickering, she squinted as she approached the door. She reached her hand out and felt around for it was so dark that she could not even tell if the door was closed in front of her. She didn't feel the heavy iron door. Amazingly, it was flung wide open. Sigyn's heart despaired, but as she entered into the cell she was awestruck to find that the flickering blaze of her torch caught illuminated something gold.

"Prince Thor?' Sigyn questioned quietly. She tip-toed closer to the golden glow. "Prince Thor!" She exclaimed as she saw that the gold was the highlights in the strands of his hair. "Prince Thor!" She cried once more as she sank to her knees next to him. "Oh my stars! Prince Thor? Prince Thor, what have the done to you?" Sigyn asked as she beheld him.

Prince Thor was chained and manacled to the wall. His wrists and ankles were bound tight. He had a wooden plank across his back so that his head was forced to be bowed. His dirty, mud and blood caked hair hung in his face. His armor and been flung off of him. He was stripped down to nothing but his under tunics and even they were ripped to nothingness. Through the gashes in his tunics came blood. He had terrible cuts on his chest and back. They were welt marks as if he had been flogged. He was blindfolded and gagged. "Oh. Oh my goodness," Sigyn muttered as she beheld her fallen prince. She shook her head and covered her mouth. "Oh my goodness, Prince Thor," she called softly as she started to extend her hand, "can you hear me?" She asked as she touched him.

Thor started the thrash as he felt the faint brush of finger tips against his bruised flesh. He thrashed violently. He made pitiful moaning sounds through the dirty cloth that was pressed between his teeth. His sound was so wretched. Like a mastodon stuck in a tar pit. It was the terrible, loud, ear splitting cry that Loki had made. It was a low moan, no less full of agony, but in a different sense. He shook his head and bobbled and wriggled about. He pulled at the chains, but he couldn't move. It was obvious that the son of Odin was making great effort to escape his prison, but to no avail. "Prince Thor! Prince Thor, it's alright. It is I, Lady Sigyn. I am here to help," she stated. Then very gingerly, with one hand, she removed the blindfold from his eyes and she removed the gag from his mouth.

When the cloth was pulled from his eyes, Sigyn wished she'd left it on. Prince Thor's eyes were swollen and black. They looked like large rotten grapefruits. His nose was purple and blue from being broken. His face was crisscrossed with dark, crimson liquid that poured from every opening on his face. His lips were fattened and his teeth bloody. His golden beard was dyed red. She scarcely recognized the wretched prisoner. He looked nothing like the Crown Prince of Asgard.

"Prince Thor?" Sigyn whispered. She went to cup his face, but couldn't find a spot on his cheek that wasn't covered with blood or looking terribly bruised. She didn't want to hurt him anymore. Finally, very carefully, she cupped his cheek just above his chin. She lifted his head and it simply lulled back to rest against the plank placed upon his back. "Oh, oh!" Sigyn gasped as she scuttled around to the side to try to prop up Prince Thor's head. She managed to hot his head steady. She fanned his face, doing anything she could to revive him. "Oh please! Oh please! Please wake up!" She cried.

Thor managed to open one of his swollen eyes. It was only a slit and he could barely make out the face before him. He couldn't move his hands to feel the face because they were bound. "W-w-who?" The prince rasped.

"Oh Prince Thor, it's me! It's me Lady-Sigyn," the queen's handmaiden explained.

"S-s-sif?" He sputtered. His busted lips formed a bloody smile.

"No...no, my prince...it's...it's me...Lady Sigyn...I'm here. I'm here." She said as ashe patted his cheek and stroked his forehead. Her hand was soon coated with blood. While one hand held the torchlight all she could do was raise her skirt to pat down his face and try to clear some of the blood and dirt.

"S-s-sig-gyn?" He repeated. The thunderer's voice was barely audible. The Crown Prince of Asgard's mind was in a fog. He tried to shake himself out of it, but his head was throbbing. Never would he have imagined in a million years that the one person who came for him would have been Lady Sigyn. "I...I...I can't see," he confessed.

Sigyn bit her lip, "I know..." She mumbled. "Don't worry, I'm...I'm gonna get you out of here...somehow," she promised. "I'll get you some help." She said resolutely. "Don't you worry,:" the blonde-haired maiden kept repeating. "Oh I wish I would have brought some medicine or salve or something," Sigyn grumbled against herself.

"W-w-water?" Thor panted his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he tried to wet his lips.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, my prince!" Sigyn shrieked. "I don't have any. I should have brought some. I don't know why I didn't bring a flask or a wineskin or something," she lamented. "Please forgive me, my prince." Sigyn bowed her head in shame. "But don't you worry, sire...I am going to get you out of here in a jiff. Just you wait," Lady Sigyn pledged.

"'Skay," Thor mumbled. He was barely able to part his lips they ached so bad. "Sigyn? How did you find me?" Thor said as he started to cough. His whole body shook as he did so.

"Easy, easy," the lady-in-waiting to Queen Frigga soothed. She rubbed the prince's back. "I went through the catacombs." Thor groaned as Sigyn shifted him so she could better examine his binds. "I'm sorry," she muttered. The pain was clearly etched on his face from even the slightest touch of her hand. "I can't believe Loki did this?" She expressed. Her golden eyes were filled with tears. They started to fall as she looked at the lacerations that had been made to Thor's wrists and ankles by the tight shackles."How could he? How could he? To you? His own brother? It is beastly," she sobbed. "How did this happen?" She continued to question. She knew that Loki was rotten and vengeful, but how could he see his own brother beaten and tormented to such a state and not care and do nothing? He was like an animal, no soul.

Thor leaned his head into her hand. His face was sore, but the tender touch felt good. "He tr-tr-icked," Thor's words broke off as he coughed. "Me," he continued and let out a pathetic sigh. "I...I...I thought...he...was...in trouble," he explained. "I...I...I sh-sh-should have known better," he gave the faintest shake of his head.

Sigyn nodded. "Shhh, my prince," she entreated. "You couldn't have known...how could you have known? I mean he is your brother..." she started to cry harder. Thor heard his mother's waiting gentlewoman starting to sob. His lips started to move, but his voice was so faint that she couldn't make out his words. His hands trembled as he tried to stretch them up toward her only to find that the chains he bore would not even allow for that much movement. Sigyn clasped at his hand. "Don't talk," she hushed. "Save your strength." she admonished. "I'll get you out of here," she explained once more.

Thor let out a bitter chuckle. Strength? What strength? He had none. The Dark-Elves had trounced him. They beat him with out mercy. They had him bound and gagged and blindfolded and they took turns landing punches on his body. They were honorless brutes who kicked their captives with they were down. Malekith had made the time after Loki's announcement to the realm to beat him. He pulled out a whip and gave him seven stripes. All he had been able to do was take it. Loki had stripped him of his powers. He was helpless, defenseless, weak a kitten and what was worse was that he had left the Nine Realms in the same state. "Can't walk," he stated his voice drifting off. He could feel his consciousness slipping from him.

"Ok...Ok," Sigyn mumbled nervously... "it doesn't matter...I'll get you out of here, Prince Thor...even if I have to carry you," she swore.

"Nonononosigyn," Thor muttered as he shook his head groggily... "Go...run...saveyourself," he slurred. He attempted to open his eyes, but the effort was to painful. His eyes were to heavy. He'd lost too much blood to be conscious any longer.

"No, Prince Thor!" Sigyn resounded in earnest. She took him by his cut hands and held them tight. "I'm not leaving you. Your getting out of here. No one is saved without you. We need you...the Nine Realms need you," she told him. "Don't give up!"

"I...I...I can't... the hammer...gone."

"We'll find it," she stated. "You'll see," she nodded her head. "Just let me get you out of these terrible shackles," she expressed. With that Sigyn took one of her golden arrows from out of her quiver. With force she jammed it against the manacles. The chain and the fetter broke. Thor's hands flopped listlessly by his side. A smiled spread across Sigyn's face. "Yes! Yes! See Prince Thor, you'll be free of these confounded chains in no time!" She exclaimed as she went to work trying to break each one of the binds. Sigyn made all do haste. Working as quickly as she could. All the while she was racking her brain trying to think of how she was going to get Prince Thor out of the palace and to the shelter. She was no shield-maiden. She wasn't strong enough to carry the son of Odin and without any ointment or gauze she could injure him further. She couldn't risk that. Oh that didn't matter. She had to do something. Poor Thor. He needed her. She had to do something. Even if the two of them had to crawl through the catacombs together she would get him out.

"W-wh-what w-was that?' Thor questioned. His head turned ever so slightly toward the sound of a multiple heavy thuds. He was blind as a bat and weak as a lamb, but his ears were still sharp.

"What?" Sigyn paused in her effort. "What? I didn't hear anything," the blonde-maiden stated. She stopped trying to jam the tip of the arrows into the chains and breaking them and listened. She heard the footfalls too. For a moment her heart filled with hope. Perhaps it was the Einherjar and the palace guards. Perhaps they hadn't listened to her foolish talk about thinking that she could rescue Prince Thor all on her lonesome. Maybe they had followed her. Maybe they really were going to be able to get Prince Thor out and to safety. But that seemed too good to be true.

Thor attempted to sit up. His frail body only allowed him to shrug though. "The Dark-Elves!" He gasped. He started to quake.

"What? No!" Sigyn cried. She immediately went back to stabbing at the fetters, desperate to free prince Thor. "Come on arrows!" Sigyn whispered. "Come on!" she whispered. Frantically, she continued to try to saw through the iron fetters with the sharpened end of her golden arrown. "Work!" She ordered through gritted teeth.

"S-s-sigyn, donle 'em see you," Prince Thor cautioned. "Run."

"Uh-uh," Lady Sigyn shook her head. "I'm not leaving you, Prince Thor...I have my arrows," Sigyn explained.

"Too many," Thor elaborated breathlessly. The stomping was getting closer. "Please," he begged. "I-dun-wannabe-'sponsable-for...th-th-th deaths of any more of our people."

Sigyn's eyes darted back and forth. There was only one exit out of the chamber. Surely the dark-Elf guards would see her if she went out the door. Her ankle made it impossible for her to run. She didn't want to abandon Prince Thor, but she couldn't exactly disobey a royal command. So Sigyn did the only thing she could think to do. She blew out her torch and scuttled to the back of the cell and waited in the dark with Prince Thor for Malekith's guards to arrive.

A/N: Whoa! That was a long one. Hey but you made it to the end and we are getting very close to the end of the tale. So if you've read up until this point you deserve to leave a review.