Goddess of Ice

by sailorpluto1709

Sequel to "God of Fire." It's been fourteen years since we last saw Loki and Charlie. However, a new threat has appeared and is not interested in either one of them. Instead, they are focused on taking their daughter. Who are they and why are they after their daughter? Rated M mainly for caution and possible violence.

36. Fulfilling a Promise

A/N: *facing the corner, head bowed in shame* Yes, I know. It's been five months. Yes, I know. I seriously suck. In all honesty, I got distracted. By five other writing projects and a new work schedule and social life I am attempting to recreate. I am so sorry for making you all wait this long. I hope this chapter will at least make up for the horrendous amount of time I have forced you all to wait. *sheepishly holds out stones and tomatoes* You can throw these if you like.

I will admit I feel like this chapter was a little rushed and clunky, even though I've been working on it for a solid two weeks. (Okay, way longer than that, but you get my point.) Let me know if it is so I can focus a little more attention on it. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I still own nada but the original characters and plot.

Fulfilling A Promise

It's been four days since the attack on Asgard and tensions are running extremely high. For obvious reasons.

Once word got out to the masses that it was Leikvig Valdhari threatening the realm and royal family… well, people didn't take to the news kindly, to put it nicely. Asgardians have long memories and they remember well what the man did. For those who don't know, they were informed very quickly. Public anger rose very quickly and within a day, the Einherjar had more support than I think anyone was truly anticipating. The entire realm is waiting with bated breath for the next attack to come. Heimdall has been scouring the skies looking for any hint of where the Rautichi ships are holing themselves up, but we've all come to the conclusion that their ships have a cloaking device that shields them from our gatekeepers' sight. It's distinctly frustrating for the man, but I just do my best to reassure him that it isn't his fault.

I spend most of my time with Islinde, usually with Rhydirr. Nobody wants to leave her alone for any amount of time and she hasn't once complained from the sudden increase in familial contact. Not that she would, but still. Loki's been with the War Council and commanders of the Einherjar to better prepare for the imminent attack. He's the most familiar with Valdhari and the Rautichi, so he's very valuable right now. Not shocking. Although, I know that he really doesn't like how much time he's dedicated to the government. He wants to stay with Islinde and I just in case anything were to happen. But with me essentially out of commission—for more than just mental issues—he's the only one between the two of us helping and I've basically ordered him to keep doing so. I can watch my daughter and make sure she's safe.

Today's the first day that I've gotten away from the palace, in all honesty. I left Islinde with her cousins and Rhydirr watching them all while I tend to this one thing that I refuse to let go, even with the threat over all of our heads right now. I'm walking down the Bifrost Bridge, escorting Lady Harmes back to the Observatory. Since the runes were broken, she's been coming to Asgard at least once a week to help me adjust to what's going on and offer her brand of healing. However, with the protection rune left on my mind, there's not much she can really do except lend a supportive ear and advice. While our own healers offer the same service, there's something about having someone be an expert in this brand of magic that's far more soothing. I love Lifa and Bodil and Eira and the others in the healing field, but Harmes has been completely invaluable to me, even if all she can do is listen in that calm way of hers.

The regal Elven woman is keeping perfect stride with me, gliding along the bridge without making a noise. Her white dress trails lightly behind her, her hands clasped in front of her as we chat. We're currently discussing the finer points of Alfheimen government seeing as I know next to nothing about the realm. I've spent so much time in regards to the ambassador position that I really did neglect learning about the other realms of the known universe. Apparently the realm is governed by two people: the High Lord who essentially handles the politics. That would be Harmes's brother, Iamben. The second overseer of Alfheim is the High Priestess, Harmes herself. She oversees the magical development of the realm, keeping the rules and regulations in place as well as making sure Alfheim is not engaging in damaging or potentially destructive magicks. Iamben and Harmes work together to keep peace and order and the structure has worked for countless millennia of the race.

Hey, if it ain't broke and all that.

"So, is there a particular branch of magic you specialize in, Lady Harmes?" I ask, completely curious. I snort then. "Then again, how could you possibly choose just one? You oversee nearly all of it."

"Oh, I would not say that I oversee all of my councils," she replies lightly, her accent a little thicker because of her grin. "There are far too many to keep up with. However, you are correct in that it is incredibly difficult for me to focus on only one main branch of magic. In my youth, I was a healer. As I grew, I became more curious in runic magic and the practices of our ancestors. And when I ascended to my current position, I find that my knowledge of nearly all forms of magic on my realm has only grown to such an extent that I am unable to keep up with all of it." Her head bows so she can watch the pulsating crystals beneath her feet. "However, I find that I still enjoy healing and often find myself contained within the healers wing." Her unique eyes dart back up to mine with a small grin. "It is nearly impossible to let go of that which brings you joy."

"Amen to that," I reply, looking out over the side of the bridge and towards the multi-colored horizon. "Hence why I can't let this guy win. He can't have my daughter."

She is silent at my declaration. Harmes is more than aware of all that is going on right now. In fact, when she arrived I offered for her to turn around and go back home once I filled her in on everything that happened within the span of the past few days. I don't want her in the middle of all of this and I don't trust that Valdhari will simply wait until the end of the week. She immediately declined.

"Charlie, we have not discussed how your mental state has been this past week," she announces, quickly changing the subject. Well, that's certainly true enough. Pretty much as soon as she arrived, we started the whole pleasantry greetings and such and before I knew it, we had delved into a rather thorough discussion about Alfheimen politics. Ugh, I think I'm growing up. "How has everything been going?"

I sigh, shoving my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. "I wake up every day as her," I start, keeping my eyes focused resolutely ahead of me. "Loki's still able to pull me out of it, but I'm so ashamed that something as simple as sleep could rewrite my identity like that." I shake my head. "There have been a few times that I've… snapped into her personality. Once when I was on Maglubiyet and again when I heard Valdhari's voice. I just can't control her emotions."

She hums quietly and my eyes dart to take in her profile out of the corner of my eyes. Her gaze is distant as she thinks over what I told her and I can't help but take in the beautiful woman's form. If all Elven women look like her, it's just not fair. She has a level of grace that shouldn't even be allowed outside of a fantasy novel and anytime she pins me with those impossibly light blue eyes, I can feel the weight of her mind. She is incredibly intelligent and I couldn't even begin to fathom what must go through her mind on a daily basis. Every encounter with the woman has proven my theory correct: her grace, intelligence, and utter beauty makes her a perfect leader of the Elven realm that Asgard actually looks up to. Not that they will ever admit that.

Her thumb passes a quick circle on her stomach, a habitual motion that I've come to recognize over the past couple weeks as we continue to walk and she thinks. I return my eyes to the bridge. "I believe," she starts, her voice almost hesitant. "I believe it is almost impossible to truly suppress Sigyn's emotions, Charlie. Especially now. There will come a day when you will be able to separate her personality from yours, her memories from yours. I do not believe that will happen soon, however. Until your mind is fully capable of separating your true memories from Lady Sigyn's, you will always have a small part of her emotions that will respond to particular situations. The connection between her and Valdhari is certainly a surprising connection that none could have predicted. Her reaction to him, however, is not surprising."

"I'm not faulting her reaction," I reply, suppressing a strong need to shudder. "I just don't want her reactions to become my own. I don't want to be afraid of this guy. Yes, what he's orchestrated so far has been despicable and wrong towards me. But nothing to be afraid of."

She hums, still not looking at me. "Is he not to be feared, though?" she asks quietly.

"My husband and several others would say so," I grumble.

"What of you? Your heart? What does it say?"

I think about that question for a moment. I notice how she doesn't ask what my mind says on the matter, only my heart. Considering my mind is forever stubborn and has my father's syndrome of looking people in the eye and arrogantly saying "I'm better than you," it's certainly not helping with analyzing how I'm feeling. My heart on the other hand… That's just a menagerie of confusing emotions from too many different sources. Which, yes, is not normal. Am I afraid of Leikvig Valdhari?

I can't answer that question.

I shrug, looking away towards the rushing water. "I don't know," I answer honestly.

She hums. "Perhaps it is too soon to ask such a question."

"I'm getting frustrated about how everything is too soon to ask," I admit, keeping from pouting by the scrape of my teeth. "I feel like everything is too soon. Too soon to ask. Too soon to do. Too soon to think or feel. When won't it be too soon?"

"Only time will determine that."

And isn't that the most frustrating part? Only time can tell how long it will take for my mind to figure out which life is mine. Only time heals pain and all of that bullshit. Problem is, the pain that I'm feeling isn't my own. And Sigyn had twenty years to heal from her parents' brutal murder and rape. Yet, she hasn't healed at all. If anything, her wounds are still just as raw as when they were first dealt to her. And now her wounds are my wounds and I don't know how to handle them most of the time. Usually I can go about my day without too much leakage, but like I told Harmes: I wake up as her. My dreams are filled with her memories and nightmares. A single word can snap me into her. And her depression really has leaked over to me. I don't want this anymore and it's been two months. I'm so beyond done with it already and I don't know how long it's going to take before it no longer affects me.

Silence envelopes us for the rest of the short walk to the Observatory. There really isn't much else to say. At least nothing new to say. Because of the protection rune Nebula left on my mind, we can't use magic to speed up the process of my mind sorting through the memories. Nor is there a way for me to forget about Sigyn. So, I'm stuck.

We walk through the portal into the Observatory and I spy Heimdall at his usual spot before the opposing portal, his back to us and his sword poised in his hands with the point in the ground. "Welcome back, my ladies," he greets without turning around, his deep voice reverberating in the hollow room. "I trust your visit was fruitful, Lady Harmes?"

The lady at my side grins and bows her head to his back, trusting he will see the gesture. "My visit was hospitable and fruitful as always, Lord Heimdll."

I have to suppress a need to smirk as he finally turns to face us with a gentle smile. "You ask like you aren't aware how her visit went, Heimdall."

His grin morphs to something more devious, golden eyes dancing in amusement. "Contrary to popular belief, I do not watch the residents of Asgard during their daily routines," he intones.

"Far more important things to watch?" I ask, smirking fully now.

"I would say far more interesting," he retorts.

I snicker and nod. I can't disagree with him. As much as I love Asgard, routine is very much something that doesn't change. The name "Realm Eternal" is a literal thing. It can be and get boring very quickly.

His eyes turn towards Lady Harmes. "Are you ready to return, my lady?"

She bows her head again. "I am, my lord." Heimdall nods and walks towards the podium while she turns to face me fully. She reaches up and cups my cheek, making me blink in surprise at her rather sudden tender expression. "I understand you are frustrated, Charlie. You have every right to be. I have found through my few millennia of existence that things happen for a reason, whether we are able to see it ourselves or not. I believe this trial is important for you to overcome. I cannot see why that might be. However, I know your spirit. You will overcome it. You are intimately aware of the extent Leikvig Valdhari will go to achieve his ends, perhaps as much as your husband is aware. That is an advantage."

My eyes fall to the ground. "Sounds too much like fate to me," I mutter.

"Do you not believe in fate?"

My eyebrows scrunch together, my eyes losing their focus on her hand still tracing a small circle along her stomach. I can vaguely sense that otherworldly feeling of eyes on an intimate part of my being that no hands can touch. Do I believe in fate? Before, that was a resolute no. I strongly believed in the power of my own choices. If things happened to fall into place, then so be it. But I forged my path, not some invisible power that keeps me on puppet strings. However, Sigyn lived her entire life believing in the native gods of Maglubiyet and their power over the realm and its people. While that's a little different than the umbrella term of fate, it is similar in that she believed her path was determined by the gods and their favor of her. Which, admittedly, wasn't very high because she was half-mortal. At least, that's what she was told. After living seven months as her, I don't know what my belief system is anymore.

I mentally sigh. Just add it to the pile of things I'm no longer sure about.

My silence stretches on to the point that it's pointless to bother responding. Harmes seems to understand, that odd pressure dissipating. Her thumb traces a warm path along my cheekbone before her arm falls back to her side. "Events permitting, I will return in a week's time," she tells me. I feel I can finally look up to meet her gaze again. "Do not hesitate to lean on those who offer their strength, Charlie. They are your greatest form of healing."

I nod, the corner of my mouth quirking up a bit. "I know."

Her smile is gentle as she bows to me respectfully. My hands fold together and I bow low at the waist. We are technically almost the same rank, but I feel so much below the woman, it's ridiculous. She deserves every ounce of respect I can show her. I straighten and watch her as she makes the few steps to the portal as the Observatory rolls to life around us, the golden gears and circles spinning. Within seconds, the multi-colored portal replaces that of the nebulous space just outside the realm and Lady Harmes is transported through lightyears to her home realm. I sigh.

One more session down. A million more to go.

OoO

I return to the palace with the majority of my day to still look forward to. I make a beeline to the Royal Wing and pick up Islinde and Maggie from their caretaker, Yona. Modi and Magni are in their lessons at the moment and can't look after the girls themselves while the adults run around prepping the palace and realm for war. I feel a little guilty that I can't help in the preparations, but everyone in the family and War Council agrees that making sure my daughter is safe is more important than me running around the palace fortifying things.

At least we're all on the same page.

I take the girls to the Earth garden, Rhydirr dutifully following us. I just want to be outside in the sunlight as much as possible regardless of the current climate. The garden is nestled inside the palace, walls surrounding us on all sides, so I'm not exactly nervous about suddenly being attacked without having some kind of defense. Besides, I think we could all use the space from everything on the inside. Obviously we do our best not to talk about the mess that is life right now in front of the girls. They know something is going on—it would be pointless to try and hide that much—but they don't know the extent of it. Do they want to know? Yes. Absolutely. But what would be the point in telling my daughter that a very bad man wants to come and steal her away from Mama and Daddy? Sorry, but I'm not going to allow my daughter to have more nightmares.

The fact that she has any is already a topic I don't want to think about.

Rhydirr and I have our backs pressed into the bark of a large oak tree, watching as Islinde chases Maggie around the lawn and flowers, both girls giggling loudly as the younger attempts to catch the eldest. I can't help but smile softly as I watch them, twirling stems of random wildflowers together to make a multi-colored flower crown that the girls absolutely begged me to make. It would be so easy to just forget about life for a little and drown in the simple happiness of the girls as they play, completely stress and worry free. Not for the first time, I wish I could transport back to their age and experience that kind of stress-free living again.

Then again, I never really had a childhood like that anyway.

"How was the Lady Harmes and her visit with you, Charlie?" Rhydirr asks, handing me another yellow flower as I finish tying off the purple one on the chain.

"She seemed to be alright," I answer, shrugging a single shoulder as I pull my eyes back down to my task. "We didn't talk too much about my mental problems this time around, though."

She hums and I see her nod her head out of the corner of my eyes, reaching up to tuck a few loose strands of her chocolate hair back behind her ear. "It must become redundant to discuss the same topics over and over," she muses quietly. "Forgive me if I sound callous, Charlie, but it does not seem like your discussions over your mental… affliction would alter much over a week's time."

I snort humorlessly. "It hasn't changed much from a month's time, Rhydirr."

She bows her head with a small grin. "Perhaps it is more fruitful then to focus on more diverse topics, those that would bring your own memories and personalities more to the fore?"

I shrug again. "I'm not an expert in mental illness, but that's as good enough an explanation as any."

The conversation shifts as I focus our attention to her boys and what they're currently up to. Conversation flows easily between us and before I know it, I've finished the two flower crowns in time for Islinde and Maggie to run back over to us, panting with tired smiles on their faces. I smile up at them. "Have you expended your immense energy yet, girls?" I ask them, poking Maggie's belly as my daughter collapses into my lap.

Neither answer me as my niece collapses into the grass with her head on my thigh. Islinde pats my arm and looks up at me, tipping her head back until the crown of her head is pressed into my stomach. She points to the two flower crowns lying idly beside me, still panting.

I raise my eyebrow. "Is there something you want, little girl?"

Rhydirr snickers as Islinde's cheeks puff out in irritation. "Crown!" she chirps helpfully.

"What's the magic word?"

"Please?"

"Good girl." I reach over and grab both crowns, fitting them onto first Islinde's head and then Maggie's head. Both girls perk up as soon as they have their respective crown, giggling in delight. I can't help but shake my head fondly. Something so simple and it completely makes their day.

Rhydirr stands, stretching her arms above her head. I hear a few pops echo from various joints. "I am going to go run a perimeter check," she informs me, her hand falling onto the pommel of her sword.

I give her a disbelieving look. "We're in a garden."

She smirks. "Astute observation, my lady."

I'm gonna hit her.

Before I can come up with a witty retort, Maggie bounds back up to her feet, blonde curls bouncing about her shoulders restlessly. "Hide and seek!" she shouts, jumping up and down.

"Yeah!" Islinde shouts just a hair louder. "You're it, Mama!"

And just like that, both girls are off like bullets through the trees and bushes, nothing but giggles indicating where they might have disappeared. I did not agree to this. I sigh, turning to give our guard an annoyed comment only to find that she had taken the opportunity of the girl's ample distraction to do whatever it is that she wanted to do. Darnit, now I don't have a way out of being It. I shake my head, sitting up a bit straighter and bowing my head to my chest, closing my eyes dutifully. I count to ten loudly enough for the girls to hear me on the other side of the garden, if that's where they've scampered off to. They know better than to run inside and hide. They both know that they have to stay within eyesight of me at all times and they've only ever broken that rule once.

They learned not to do that again.

I find counting to ten—even with the "Mississippi" method—is a seriously short amount of time when you're playing hide-and-seek. Granted, when you're a kid, it's all the time in the world. When you're an adult, not so much. Still, as soon as I count to ten and shout "ready or not, here I come!" I feel like no time has passed at all. And certainly not enough time for two pint-sized little girls to find an adequate hiding spot that won't require some overdramatic acting on my part. Of course, when they don't want to be found, they are pretty hard to find. My daughter is the daughter of Loki.

I stand and stretch, casting my gaze over the shrubbery and trees within the immediate ten-foot vicinity. It would be really foolish of them to hide this close to me. I take careful steps in the direction where the initially ran off in, not believing for a second that they would have stuck with hiding over here anyway. I'm careful to keep any noise I make to an absolute minimum so any sound they make can be heard. I'm notorious for allowing the girls to have their fun for a drawn out period of time, but I don't really let them stay in their hiding spot for longer than ten minutes. I keep walking, scanning every branch, every bush as I pass by. I bet they've hidden along the walls, actually. Each wall has a line of tall bushes that would be too small for an adult to crawl behind. But a small child no bigger than a three-year-old?

Destination in mind, I almost completely walk past Rhydirr's still form as I make a beeline for what ends up being the south facing wall of the garden. She's about twenty feet to my left, standing in the shade of a large ash tree, the sunlight dimpling along her frame as she stares up into the sky with a fixed focus that I can't describe. I watch her for a moment, briefly glancing up in the direction of where she's staring trying to figure out what has her attention so completely. When I bring my eyes back down to her body, her hand flits to the handle of her sword and my body fully tenses.

Adrenaline makes my hearing sharper than normal and I finally figure out what has my guard so alert: there's a high-pitched, can-barely-be-heard mechanical ship ringing coming from somewhere outside the palace walls. But the whoosh of air means that whatever ship it is happens to be large and moving fast, so not one of our own skiffs. And if it's not Asgardian made, then that can only mean one thing.

Rhydirr's eyes clash with mine in utter meaning and that's all it takes for me to start running. "Girls!" I shout, running towards the wall. "Come out right now! The game's over!"

I happen to see a small flash of gold curls out of the corner of my eye and I skid to a halt in the grass, turning my head to find brown eyes peeking around the bark of a large weeping willow tree. I run to Maggie immediately, scooping her up into my arms. "What's wrong, Auntie Charlie?" she asks, her arms looping around my neck.

"We've got to get inside, baby," I reply, keeping my voice even and calm even though the rest of me is nervous as hell. "Where's Islinde, Maggie?"

"I have her," Rhydirr announces behind me and I feel a knot in my back loosen just a hair. Islinde's red-and-green eyes stare at me worriedly as Rhydirr joins my side, hoisting Islinde up a little higher on her hip.

Before I'm able to say anything, what can only be the whirring of a laser weapon shoots close enough by us that I can feel the vibration of the impact in the soil under my feet. It's loud enough that both girls look up to the blue sky in concern as Rhydirr and I exchange another round of meaningful looks. Now isn't the time for chatter anymore. We've got to get the girls back to the Queen's chambers and on their way to the safe house. And I have to find my husband.

True to my suspicions, Valdhari had no intention on waiting for the full week he promised.

I place my hand on the back of Maggie's head and nudge her until she has her face buried in the side of my neck. "Don't look up," I tell her, hearing Rhydirr give my daughter the same instructions behind me. I spare one quick look with the female warrior beside me. She nods at my silent message. I turn to the north end of the garden and run just as a bright blue beam shoots over the walls and a loud crash echoes from the east side of the palace. Maggie jumps at the crash, but all I can do is rub her back in an attempt to keep her calm. My only consolation is that the Royal Wing is not on the east side.

When we get back inside, the palace is in utter chaos as Einherjar rush to get to their stations and where the fighting is mostly at while also corralling civilians to safe zones. Rhydirr and I are able to pick our way through the mess of bodies running in different and opposing directions and shouting voices fairly easily. It helps when most of the palace seems to be on alert for you anyway and is quick to get out of the way of two women running and holding children. By the time we pass the central atrium and enter the Royal Wing, Rhydirr and I are in a dead run while most of the inhabitants have congregated either towards the back of the palace where the safe zones are at, or outside working on defending the realm from the invaders from space.

I'm starting to sound like a sixties science fiction movie. Jesus.

I come to a skidding stop outside the Queen's elaborate doors and I quickly shove one of them open. Once I stumble inside—and reassure myself that Rhydirr has my daughter and is two steps behind me—I'm quick to notice that the passage in the center of the six columns in the center of her room is already open and waiting for us. Rhydirr takes the lead from me, rushing towards the tunnel as the room quakes around us with another large boom. Maggie whimpers and I shush her quietly as I follow the stoic woman.

"Charlie! Rhydirr!"

"Modi, Magni, thank the gods," I breathe, another knot of anxiety loosening in my chest to hear the burly teen's voice echo up from the steps. A quick moment later, a blonde head pokes up from the hole in the floor, his expression serious for once.

Modi holds out his arms to me, clearly willing to take his sister. I pass her over with little protest—well, on my part. Maggie wasn't so compliant. After a brief battle of wills between siblings, the older boy wins and tucks her into his side. His blue eyes dart from me to Rhydirr quickly. "We'll get them to the safe house so you two can remain and fight," he states.

"Aw, let me fight too!" Magni protests, his voice echoing up from behind his brother.

A boom like thunder echoes through the palace and I look up to the distant ceiling, nervous about the sprinkle of dust I notice fall from the arches. "No way," I state, clearly talking to Magni. "You two get to the safe house and stay there until one of us comes to fetch you all." I look back down to Rhydirr and she nods without me having to say a word to her. Islinde is peeking over to me with the majority of her face still buried in her guard's chest. I give her a reassuring grin. "Be good for your cousins and Rhydirr, okay?" I tell her. "I'll come get you soon." I take a step closer to her and kiss her cheek. "I love you."

"Love you, too," she mutters, clearly scared but somehow remaining fairly brave in light of the now constant booming explosions and resulting vibrations going on around us.

I shoo Rhydirr and Modi down into the tunnel and stay long enough to see the entrance close over. I flinch away towards the doorways when another explosion manages to make the column I was standing a few feet beside to actually sway slightly. Alright, I suppose now is as good a time as any to join the fight. I reach down and loosen my sais from my boots, lamenting the fact that I didn't change into my more versatile Asgardian armor. Nope, I'm stuck in jeans and a t-shirt as a raging battle is obviously going on outside the palace that just so happens to center on me and my family.

Lovely.

First things first, I think as I run through the doors and back down the long Royal Wing. I have to find my husband. Chances are he's going to be going for where he thinks or knows Leikvig is going to be in the fight. We've already talked about how in every mission he went on with Leikvig before he became the man's prime experiment, Leikvig did not hesitate to join his forces in the battle. In fact, he preferred to be on site in case things happened to change on a dime, as it typically does with battles. Loki's the only one on the realm that could figure out where he might hide himself on Asgard while he's here. I refuse to let Loki face this man alone, especially considering how much of this bullshit has affected me personally. Because of him, I was turned into another woman for over half a year. I deserve a few stabs too.

As I weave my way through the palace, allowing my feet to lead me towards the sound of distant fighting, I let the majority of my attention focus on my connection with Loki, trying to feel where he might be in this mess. I want to believe he's going to be in the thick of it all because he was with the War Council when the attack began. And the War Council tends to jump where the most of the enemy numbers are because they are our best fighters. Who all like to prove themselves to each other because warrior mentalities. Whatever. But as I stumble to a stop a few paces outside the palace on the pathway that leads towards the city, my eyes take in only utter mayhem. I couldn't even begin to fathom where the "center" of this fight even is.

Flying overhead are at least ten massive triangular shaped ships, each blocking out a football field worth of sky as they circle around the golden protected palace and attempt to shoot the shield into submission. That won't happen as long as Heimdall is able to keep the shield up without any problems. Did they forget that they have to basically destroy the Bifrost in order to bring that shield down? Eh, whatever, it's not hurting us that they're wasting their ammunition. Of course, with each resounding explosion of energy against the palace's barrier, the palace does quake around it. I hate to know what kind of force those blasters would have if they could reach the stone.

As far as the eye can see on the ground is groups of Rautichi fighters, shooting laser guns or wielding multiple knives against Asgardian warriors. They seem to have organized themselves into clusters of twelve to fifteen fighters as they move about the circumference of the palace, trying to draw the Einherjar away from the entrances. I can't tell if their strategy is working so far. It doesn't appear to have and that's all that really matters. I can see and smell smoke in the distance and I don't have to look to know that the fighting is definitely within the city as well and I can safely assume that there are more ships attacking civilians far outside the palace. It doesn't take much more than that to make my blood boil.

"Charlie!"

The sudden high-pitched shout snaps me back to reality just in time to side-step a knife as it comes barreling out of my periphery. I spin on my heel and bring my sais up to lock around the Rautichi's other blade before it could try and gut me. I glare up at the ugly mug of my attacker, making sure that my left sai's tsumes are locked around his knife so he can't pull away. (Or she. I honestly can't tell what it is.) My eyes shift to the right when it lifts one of its right arms with its extra knife. Before I can try and plot my way out of their obvious attack, a flash of maroon and silver captures my attention behind it just before it's lifted arm thunks to the ground with a spray of warm black blood. Ew.

I flip my right sai until it's dangling off my thumb, twisting my body around to grab its arm entirely and hold the Rautichi in place seconds before Sif spins around and thrusts her sword through the creature's chest. A gurgle comes out of its mouth and then it collapses to the ground in a lifeless heap. Sif flicks her wrist, the blood coating her sword splattering onto the ground while I straighten. We nod to each other, immediately glancing in opposite directions and standing back-to-back while we survey our surroundings. "Thanks for that," I tell her.

"Of course," she replies. "There are at least two hundred Rautichi forces trapped within the grounds of the palace. They cannot escape as long as the barrier is active. I am unaware how many might be attacking the city."

I flip my sais around until the blades are lying against the flat of my arms. "Which means we're trapped inside too," I conclude. "How many of our forces made it outside?"

"Nearly all of the aviation and I would be surprised if even thirty percent of our ground forces became trapped here."

I smile, my eyes locking on a group of charging Rautichi towards my left. "Hm, I like those odds."

I hear her chuckle as well as see a flash of silver out of the corner of my eye as she twists her wrist, making her blade spin in the air. A few seconds later and we're both in motion attacking the group of enemies that decided we would be easy fodder. I wish I could say it was an easy fight considering I'm familiar with their fighting style from the last fight only four days ago, but honestly? Trying to avoid laser fire and knife slashes from about eight different beings is incredibly difficult, even more so when one of your good friends is fighting her own hoard right behind you. But, it's manageable as long as you keep your senses open. And just so happen to be a fire wielder.

I manage to dispatch five of my own enemies, Sif four, before we've been crowded so close together that it's become impossible not to bump elbows as we fight. It's getting frustrating to be honest. I parry two different knives away from my face with a loud clash of metal against metal, hearing my friend grunt in pain behind me for reasons I can't figure out right now. I spin and roundhouse kick the last remaining gun out of the third creature's hand, finally freeing up some anxiety of getting shot. But I'm still facing down four Rautichi, sixteen sets of arms, and at least seven knives. I chance a quick glance to my partner behind me to see her facing three adversaries, only her weapon is on the ground, her left arm clutching at her right elbow. I happen to spy red spilling over her left hand before I face forward again. In the split second it took to take that glance, a Rautichi managed to get a step to close and I have to quickly block his attack with my sai before I happen to lose an eye.

I need to get Sif a break. Or at least an opening to retrieve her weapon. An idea pops into my head as I parry random blows and get pushed back another step. "Sif!" I shout. I don't need to say anymore. I've been training with the woman for years. She knows what I want to do.

I give the woman two seconds to decipher my shout before launching myself backwards. I land with my back on hers, Sif having bent forward at the waist and giving me a rather makeshift landing pad. I point my arms over my head as I roll over her back, launching a white-hot stream of fire towards her three enemies. Once I finish my roll on the opposite side of her, I spin back around her body to the four I had left behind, continuing the spray of fire out of my sais and thanking Loki even more for the wonderful wedding gifts as the last of my enemies become engulfed in the hottest flame I can produce. If it weren't for these sais, I would be out of the fight entirely after an attack like that.

Panting, I watch idly as the seven Rautichi collapse to the ground, their ear-splitting screams dwindling to nothing within seconds. Once I'm reassured that they aren't getting back up, I turn back to face my friend as she straightens from picking up her sword. I grab her injured arm, stowing my right sai back into my boot. It looks like one of the Rautichi managed to slice the back of her hand in what amounts to a rather superficial cut. However, she has a more substantial slice on her upper arm, ample amounts of blood rushing from the wound.

"Next time, could you start with such a maneuver?" she asks, the smirk her lips sport clear in her tone while I examine her wound.

I spare an unimpressed look up at her as I reach for the hem of my shirt, cutting a thick strip off with my sai. "Would love to, but it's really a once off," I retort. "I can only summon my white flame once in a fight before it burns me out, even with these." I hoist my sai up once before stashing it with its twin so I can wrap the makeshift bandage I had created around her wound.

She hums, her eyes staying on a constant swivel to the raging fights going on around us. "Pity that."

"Tell me about it." I test the tightness of the cloth, making sure it won't move while she fights. "Do you happen to know where Loki or the others might be?"

"The Warriors Three managed to get outside before the barrier was erected. I imagine Thor to be with them. I can only assume Loki is also outside of the barrier. I have not seen him since the attack began."

Finishing the tie, I nod. At least he got out. Damnit. I want to be out there to. I lift my head from staring at her arm and take a close look around, reaching down to retrieve my weapons. We can't remain idle here when there's plenty more enemies to get rid of.

I notice a group of five Einherjar being ambushed by thirty Rautichi. Just as I point them out to Sif, my heart seizes in my chest. I gasp, clutching my shirt tightly as I feel what amounts to sheer terror course through me. I stumble a few steps in utter surprise at the force of fear that happens to slam into me out of nowhere, my breath coming to me in gasps. My heart pounds in triple speed as I try to think my way around the emotions. Where the hell did this come from? I immediately think this has something to do with Sigyn—getting hit with random emotions and memories from her is an everyday thing after all—but to feel something like this without any memory accompanying it doesn't happen. Not to mention, there is only one thing that makes her this scared and I haven't seen him yet.

"Charlie, what is it? What is wrong?"

I can hear Sif's concerned voice, feel her gentle hand on my arm as she keeps me on my feet, know that she's scanning our surroundings just in case some creatures decides to try and attack us as their numbers dwindle down from the hundreds to the dozens. I shake my head hard, closing my eyes in concentration in order to get this terror under control. This isn't normal. This isn't how Sigyn reacts. This isn't how I react.

And like a flash, I realize: this isn't my or Sigyn's fear. This is Loki's.

Just as quickly as the emotion hits me, it's gone and I gasp again at its sudden disappearance. Only for a new emotion to completely take control: anxiety.

I lift my gaze from the ground to Sif, her brown eyes shifting back to me in clear concern as I gasp myself back into control. "It's Loki, something's wrong," I answer her question. I push her hand aside, stumbling a few steps away. "I have to get to him, Sif. Something's wrong."

She trails after me closely. I know without having to look that she's keeping an eye on the battlefield while I move in mindless consideration to my own safety, following the pull that I felt from him only a few moments ago. However, now I'm not feeling anything from him and that only makes my anxiety mount.

"Charlie!" Sif shouts in warning.

My sais are back in my hands before I realize I was even reaching for them and I spin to meet the charging foe head on, infusing my sai with enough fire to cleanly slice its hand off. I don't wait to hear the shriek of pain, quickly removing its other knife-holding hand, following quickly as it stumbles back from me and slicing a hole through its neck. I step over its collapsed body only to be met with another one. I can hear Sif resuming her own battles behind me and its only seconds before we're back to fighting our way through the palace grounds trying to reach the golden shimmering barrier keeping us all protected. I may be distracted by the fighting and the smell of blood, pausing long enough to check over our own forces as we pass them by, but my anxiety and rising fear never once abates the longer I'm delayed from trying to reach my husband. I don't know what would cause that amount of fear from him, but…

But.

It seems to take forever and a day for Sif and I to reach the barrier and, surprisingly, when we do, we notice that it's quickly collapsing back into the ground. I stand behind it, staring out into the city to find not a single enemy ship in sight. Our skiffs are flying around the skies, over buildings, putting out fires and landing long enough to quell the few remaining fights throughout the city. "It's over," Sif announces quietly beside me.

"That seemed too easy," I reply, feeling my apprehension mount even higher. If I thought something was wrong before…

When the barrier finally collapses, a skiff lands twenty yards away with the shouting and celebrating forms of my Uncle Thor and the Warriors Three. Sif spares them an annoyed eye roll but pleased smile as they jump off the old but incredibly advanced ship, racing towards us. They're all shouting various victory cries and phrases, but all of them pass over my head as I give my uncle serious eyes. I charge forward, meeting them halfway. "Have any of you seen Loki?" I ask, silencing their celebrations.

The men share a glance with each other. "I have not seen the prince since we split up," Hogun answers first.

"I did notice him dash in a random direction at the commencement of the battle," Fandral supplies helpfully. "However, it was shortly after that the thick of the battle offered an ample distraction."

"Is everything alright, Charlie?" Uncle Thor asks me, his hand landing heavily on my shoulder. He's still the best person that can read my facial expressions, second only to Loki. And Frigga, honestly.

I meet his worried blue eyes with matching worried ones of my own. It's only now that I can voice the truth of what all of my mental and magical searching has concluded. "I can't feel him, Uncle Thor," I answer. "At all. It's like he doesn't exist."

He reaches down and grabs my hand. It's only now that I realize I'm trembling. Damn it all. "It is probably nothing," Volstagg offers as a kind of reassurance. "I am sure your husband is already inside with the Council. Perhaps your magic is reading the situation wrong."

"Yes," Fandral is quick to agree. "After all, your magic has not been the most cooperative as of late with the mental… rune."

An uncomfortable look passes over his face when I raise my eyebrow at him. I'm damn sure he wasn't going to say rune. Affliction is a much better word. Sif's gentle hand lands on my back and I turn to look at my friend. I can tell that my declaration has her worried but she's trying to remain reassuring for me. "Perhaps Fandral and Volstagg are correct," she tells me. "Your magic has not been cooperating the best with you as of late. It is also very likely that Loki is already inside plotting a counter attack with the Captains. We should go inside first before panicking."

I hate it when she sounds so reasonable.

I nod and allow them all to lead me inside. I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. I can run with the idea that I could be reading my magic wrong. Gods know that I've never been good at figuring it out. But to not be able to feel my husband, something I've never been bad at feeling, even with minimal concentration? No, he's not inside this palace. Something is wrong and I know it.

The rather long walk only solidifies my anxiety. I'm managing to keep my panic out of my being by sheer force of will alone, but I don't know how long that will last once I pass through the doorways leading to the antechamber of the War Council. If by some stroke of luck he happens to be inside, I'll be fine. I can forget about my anxiety and fear and simply be grateful that my husband made it out of another battle alive. But if he's not inside—if I don't see him immediately when I walk through those doors—I can't guarantee I'll keep my head.

Uncle Thor releases my hand long enough to push the doors open. The groan of the two large doors silences the chatter inside and Sif's hand on my back is the only reason why I walk through the door. All eyes of the heads of council's and Captains of the guard are on us, the silence in the room a physical weight as my eyes skip over all of them trying to find a familiar bright shade of green. It takes seconds for my eyes to scan over every single body in the room. And to come to one single conclusion that Sif comes to at the same time given the strength of her grip she clamps around my wrist.

Loki isn't here.

My jaw clenches tightly as Uncle Thor strides into the room, the Warriors Three following him. I only enter the room thanks to Sif refusing to let me go anytime soon. Hogun, Volstagg, and Fandral all take a seat at their respective places, my Uncle pausing once he reaches the table. I notice how everyone is either watching me or my uncle, the silence thick enough to cut through with a spoon. Uncle Thor very slowly lowers Mjolnir onto the wood of the table. "I have two questions," his deep voice states, too quiet in the silent room. "Where is my Mother?"

"Here," a voice states from behind me. I turn my head just enough to watch the Queen enter the room behind me, Aunt Jane paused in the doorway giving some final instructions to heads of staff before trailing behind the Queen. Frigga enters regally, a sword strapped to her waist without a sheathe. She takes her place on the other side of the table.

Uncle Thor nods his head to her. "As for my second inquiry: where is my brother?"

The tension in the room increases and I can feel my eyes begin to shift to red as two Captains exchange wary glances with each other. Sif's grip around my arm tightens. "Where is he?" I interject, my voice calm but shaking. "Where is my husband?"

"My lady…" the elder guard starts, holding his hands up in a calming gesture.

"Answer. Me."

If my eyes didn't make the threat clear, my voice certainly did. I can see a shiver of something crawl down the man's spine. He opens his mouth to respond to me but before he can, a loud clicking noise interrupts my glare. I completely forgot that the communication box Leikvig sent is still floating in the room. Right now it's circular designs are pulsing a bright blue. Everyone's attention is ripped from our stand-off as more clicks come from the device. Sif's other hand attaches itself to my arm too. I'm not entirely sure if it's from alarm or in an attempt to restrain me from whatever message is about to come through that damn device.

After three more quick clicks, the box unfolds rather gently, a beam of light pixilating on the far wall and eventually coming together to show a clear image. Leikvig Valdhari's face takes up most of the screen, his dark brown eyes dancing in what can only amount to amusement, even if the rest of his face is echoing some mild remorse. He doesn't look any worse for wear, though. So if he was in the battle, he certainly didn't get any blood on his hands. Bastard.

"I must congratulate you on your win this day, Asgard," the message starts. A shudder of renewed fear races down my spine once his smooth baritone enters my ears. I have to close my eyes for a moment in order to get Sigyn under control. "My forces and I will retreat from what we desire. For now. However, I must admit, I did not anticipate the prize I received to come to me so… easily."

There's a murmur that passes through the room that echoes nothing but confusion. I'm afraid I can't mirror the sentiment as what amounts to cold, hard dread settles into the pit of my stomach. "What did you do, Valdhari?" I whisper.

"Funny you should ask, my Lady Charlie."

The blood rushes out of my face at his response and the room erupts into shouts. Several Captains rise to their feet as Uncle Thor attempts to return order to the surprised room. Sif's hands are now basically keeping me standing. I wasn't expecting to have to face him this soon. I wet my lips, attempting to get my calm back as the man on the screen laughs in earnest at the reactions in the room. After all, none of them knew that box could act as a two-way FaceTime device. Or whatever you want to call it.

His mirth calms quickly and he waits patiently for the room to come to order in order to respond. He ignores all of the questions and accusations being thrown at him. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was staring right at me. Once the room quiets to a reasonable enough level for him, he finally continues with a small smirk. "Today's little adventure was not a premature attempt to steal your daughter and the two blades hidden away in the Asgardian vaults. If anything, my goal today was much different. It was a goal to find the one thing that would… motivate, my lady princess."

He pauses with a condescending little grin. My eyes have narrowed, that knot of dread only growing in my stomach as I think over his words. I notice Uncle Thor and Frigga share a worried glance out of the corner of my eye. It's clear that he's waiting for me to respond, but I've got nothing to say right now. Another two heartbeats pass in silence. But that is shattered within seconds.

A blood-curdling scream echoes distantly from his end of the communication and whatever warmth I had in my body flees in an instant. Valdhari's eyes close and he hums in enjoyment like he's listening to his favorite opera aria. Like I didn't just happen to hear something that haunts my nightmares. "You," I whisper, my voice cracking to nothing.

"How?" Uncle Thor mutters, his voice faint.

"Oh, the how is simple, my lord prince," Valdhari supplies, waving a hand. "I find the best way to steal people is to make them believe they are running towards sanctuary."

Another scream echoes through the speakers and I'm finally snapped out of my shock, boiling rage filling my veins faster than I can keep up. I don't realize that the metaphor isn't just a metaphor until Sif hisses in pain, her hands snapping away from my skin. My skin is alight with my fire, my control keeping it under my skin but I can still see steam rising from my clothes. "What are you doing to my husband?" I growl, stepping closer to the screen.

He hums, turning his head to stare at something behind him. It's only then that I realize he's in the same white-washed room that he was in before when I talked to him. "It seems my assistant has merely administered the unemaps poison." He turns back to face me. "As I understand it, you are already very familiar with this poison, Lady Charlie. After all, it suppresses your body's ability to handle your fire magic. Of course, that really isn't its intended design, however your mortal genetics offer a safe buffer that Loki's genetics will not offer him."

I take another step forward but Sif's hands reattach themselves to me, only where there is clothing covering my upper arms. She forcefully prevents me from moving any closer to the table as I glower a hole into the man's face. "What are you doing to him?" I ask again. My voice is so strangled I can barely recognize it.

"The poison is designed, Lady Charlie, to turn your blood against you," he answers. His brown eyes are dancing with delight and I would give anything to claw them out with my nails right now. "I originally had it designed for one such as yourself in mind. I came across a rather interesting planet throughout my travels of the universe. It had two different sentient species, one of which was similar to the Goblin race in that they could also create and manipulate fire. I took many of their race as experiments, trying to find what it was that gave them such an ability. It did not take long for me to realize they excrete a magical enzyme that protects them from the heat and flames that they produce naturally. I could not help but wonder: if I were to find a way to block that enzyme, what would happen then?

"Well, the answer was simple: they combusted." He smiles like the discovery is one of the proudest moments of his scientific career. It only makes me more pissed off. "Naturally, I started to wonder what the poison I had created would do to other races. The effect it has on a Jotun, for instance, is rather spectacular."

I charge forward a step only for Sif to pull me back. "Charlie, keep your head," she whispers into my ear. "He is trying to get you riled up. Do not play into his hands."

"Give him back!" I scream, ignoring Sif's warning. "Give him back to me right now!"

He shakes his head, faux sympathy and sadness covering the wall. "I am afraid I am unable to do so, my Lady Charlie. After all, there is a reason why I took him in the first place."

"Name your conditions," Frigga interjects. Her blue eyes are like steel, her glare fierce enough that I'm glad it's not focused on me.

"The princess already knows what I wish," he answers, his gaze not once leaving my face. He tips his head forward a few inches, his eyes still only on me. "Loki has a rather colorful history with me, as I am positive you are now aware. I was never able to finish my experiments with him. Practicing on a Jotun is quite refreshing. However, I am willing to return him if you adhere to my previous demands. Do you understand now, Lady Charlie?" He straightens fully. "I will allow you the remaining week to decide. I will wait anxiously for your answer."

With no other preamble, the screen goes black. But not quick enough to block out another anguished scream from my husband. Once the box clicks shut, the panic and anguish and terror that's filled my heart snaps.

The scream that erupts from my throat is probably ten times more anguished than my husband's was a moment ago.