XXXV

On a lonely plain of rock in a desolate part of an unknown galaxy, three strange things happened in quick succession. First, an ice-rimmed portal opened, air blasting from it that seemed somehow colder than the void of empty space itself. From this tremendous wind spread a field of fast-moving frost, creeping over stone and rock, turning what had been black into dark, deep blue. Once the ground was frozen solid, a parade of giants, their bodies plated in glacial armor, marched across the field. They assembled in disorderly rows, staring about them, and fell silence when their leader—distinguished by the spiky frost-crown on his brow—clenched his fist above their heads.

Next to appear, from a fog of gray-green shadows was an army of sodden-skinned undead. They needed no special atmosphere to make them feel welcome. It wasn't even apparent that they had any ability to feel anything at all. They marched in order and stood in painfully rigid lines, a stark contrast to their leader, who slinked and loafed as though she were also made of shadows. They showed no fear of their leader's crown of thorns, but they obeyed her silently and well.

Finally, a warm glow of red lightened the darkness, spreading timidly across the field. This glow didn't rend a hole in space as the others had done. Instead, figures manifested within it as though they were appearing on an older television screen. At first, they were hazy and uncertain around the edges; within seconds, their images sharpened and hardened into reality. This was the smallest group—fewer than fifty soldiers, and two others who stood significantly shorter—but it made its presence felt. Heat, more blistering than a blast furnace, radiated through the cold ground. In moments, it was bubbling slowly like sugar set to melt.

The smallest figure stumbled, dropping her arms the moment after this army arrived.

Jane sighed. "That was…" she exhaled again, trying to catch her breath. She wasn't tired, per se, but the juxtaposition between knowing herself to be on Muspelheim in one moment and making herself know she was elsewhere the next was difficult to maintain without going crazy.

"Are you well?" Loki supported her at the elbow, leading her away from the Fire Giants and uphill to their meeting ground.

"I'm just glad I won't have to do that for them going back," she said. "I'm not sure I could do it."

Where Jane and Loki led, Hela, Laufey, and Surtr followed, escorted by a small detachment of the warriors they had each brought. After a minute, the leadership of the coup Loki had engineered stood in a rough circle, some twisted version of King Arthur and his Knights, but instead of comradeship uniting them, it was a desire for revenge for injuries and grievances thousands of years old.

Everyone stared at the other, all keenly aware of the fact that, if they weren't each a necessary part of ensuring the success of their planned assault on Asgard, they'd be happily slaughtering each other right then. And perhaps they would, still. Vengeance, while a powerful motivating force, had an enemy in self-interest.

The planetoid Jane and Loki had been using to catch their breath was a perfect middle ground between all their wants and needs. The Fire Giants were able to keep distance from the Frost Giants in their own tiny ecosystems—one unbearably hot and the other unspeakably cold—while Hela and the dead soldiers she commanded were at ease regardless of climate. The undead made an effective barrier between the two kinds of giants, because no matter how much Laufey sneered at Surtr or how threateningly Surtr palmed the hilt of his giant sword, neither of their lackeys were willing to cross the sea of perfectly disciplined, dispirited corpses of Hela's army to start anything.

Rounding out the conference, Jane and Loki were the smallest delegation, but by far the most powerful. And after what they had managed to achieve on Hel and Muspelheim—and what she had just done in transporting fifty people across endless reaches of space—Jane was finally ready to feel it. No fear shivered under her skin; her heart was quiet. The Aether was crouched and ready in her, but she was its mistress. She knew how to wield it, and despite sometimes hating the necessity of doing so, would if she had to. Without question or hesitation.

If she had to manipulate Laufey and Surtr's minds the way she'd done to Hela, she would.

"My…friends," Loki began, a mocking smile spreading over his face, "I thank you for honoring your promises to aid me and being here today. With allies such as you, Odin's reign is sure to come to a swift end."

"Enough," Laufey grumbled, "We are not here to listen to your idle flatteries. The time is at hand to strike. How shall it be done?"

"Straight to business then," Loki bowed, one hand to his chest, and even Jane rolled her eyes to watch him string out his false show of respect, "I honor my father's wishes in this as in all things."

A rumble spread through the Frost Giants, accompanied by a warning gust of wind heavy with icy snowflakes that lashed their cheeks and sputtered steam off the Fire Giants. In turn, they rattled their swords and seethed in their skins, roiling with frustration and anger.

"Loki," Jane muttered, "Can you not?"

His only reply was a chuckle. In a situation rife with chaotic potential, he was feeding himself fat like a tick gorging on blood. Jane flicked one subtle finger and lashed him across the shoulders with a hint of her power, sharp as a whip. He straightened, smile dropping for a moment, before it returned, broader than ever. One eyebrow raised, speculative.

"Why Jane," he said, softly, "I had no idea you fancied such things."

"For fuck's sake," she snarled, wishing she'd hit him harder while suspecting he'd have liked that even more, "Not now."

He sidled a little closer and spoke still more quietly. "Later, then."

Before she could retaliate, he'd moved away, stepping between the disgruntled giants and spreading his arms.

"Now, my friends," he drawled, "Do not let your petty squabbles stand in the way of what we hope to achieve. We stand on the edge of a great victory, in which you will all have an equal share. When even Odin's firstborn, his mighty executioner, stands alongside us, do you doubt that we will succeed?"

"You ask us to trust this witch?" Surtr's thumb played over the pommel of his sword. "When Odin's troops came to my Realm, and she slaughtered us in droves, taking the dead into her service?"

"I ask you to trust her as you are willing to trust Laufey, and as I hope he will trust you," Loki replied easily, "No part of this plan will work unless we are willing to work together. And for one who attempted an underhanded attack on a guest of his world, I wonder how you can stand there and question anyone else's honor, oh Guardian of Muspelheim?"

It was hard to trace any emotion on Surtr's face, when it could create and hide features at a whim. But Jane thought she could detect a trace of shame in the way it hardened, closing up like a fist. She didn't particularly care that Loki was defending her honor—the last thing she wanted was revenge, especially seeing how it had twisted and corrupted everyone standing around her—but it was sweet, in a way, to know that he hadn't forgiven Surtr for trying to murder her.

Oh boy. She really needed to reevaluate her interpersonal relationships if she was categorizing something like that as 'sweet'. Was it any wonder, though, that her internal compass was skewing away from true north? She'd only really had Loki to rely on for company for…months, at least. She'd lost track of exactly how long it had been since all this started.

What day was it, even? Odd to realize she had no idea.

"In any case," Loki proceeded after a minute, letting Surtr stew in awkward silence, "my dear sister's contribution to our cause will be invaluable. Odin's faith in her is unshakeable, and that faith will betray him. Hela will return to Asgard, overpower the gatekeeper, and open the Bifrost to us all. In under a minute, we will all be on Asgardian soil without anyone knowing we are there. Imagine the devastation you can cause before the complacent Aesir stir themselves to rise against you."

Jane didn't suppose most of the people assembled there had much chance to be pleased by anything, but if anything could make them smile—or chuckle meanly, as the case was—this was it. The idea of Asgard, unprotected and vulnerable, with nothing to do but fall and die under their hands, was clearly a very pleasant thought for them all.

"Today is a great day," Laufey rumbled, his sharp canines shining bright against dark, thin lips. "Odin's own children will visit the consequences of his greed upon him. We will destroy the very seat of his power."

"I will remind you to have some care," Loki reminded him, "This is an exchange of power, not a destruction of it. Once Odin and Thor are dead, the army will be under my control. When I order them to lay down their arms, you will do the same."

"If they obey you, runt," Laufey spat. "Are you so certain they will?"

"If they do not, I give you leave to teach them a lesson. If they do, they will then fall under my protection. And I—or my allies," he gestured towards Jane, "will step in to stop you."

Jane's lips pinched as she considered the position he'd just put her in. He'd made her responsible for protecting Asgard's soldiers, when they had brutalized Earth and not lifted a finger to help her on Asgard? Even if it was just a career for them, she wasn't very inclined to care whether they lived or died, after they'd participated in so much injustice. But. She was on Loki's side, and there was obvious value in keeping his armies intact to stand between the Giants and themselves if anyone got carried away.

So, fine. She squared her shoulders, knowing how pathetically unintimidating she must appear, and nodded.

Laufey did not seem convinced. Perhaps he was still counting on Jane eventually betraying Loki; she certainly hadn't had time to contradict that, even if she would. She and Loki had both agreed to give him freedom to act on that score. If he tried to kill Loki, well…they could stop him.

What that would do to destabilize Jotunheim afterwards was a question, but it was an answer they couldn't guess at until—or if—it happened at all.

"If anyone is to destroy that corrupt throne," Surtr snarled, "it should be we who have suffered most from it! My people have been stifled and held in our Realm for generations because of Odin's cowardice."

"You say you have suffered?" another blast of arctic wind lashed them all as Laufey spoke. "You know not the meaning of the word. Odin took the very source of our power. He ripped the heart from our Realm, leaving my people to linger in darkness and scarcity. We have lived on the margins of our own planet as long as you have been left to yourselves on yours. Vengeance is ours; it belongs to none else!"

Things rapidly tumbled downhill, unstoppable as a landslide once the tipping point had passed.

Hela gave a sharp order to her troops; the lancers on either side of the Giant's hordes lowered their pikes, forming a bristling wall of steel too threatening to pass. Still, a few Giants tried, leaping over the much shorter undead soldiers in an effort to reach the other side. Hela jabbed her fingers and the soldiers pushed them back, but the Giants were too furious to be dissuaded.

There would be bloodshed soon if someone didn't do something.

A blinding emerald flash exploded in the heart of the crowd. Everyone save the dead winced and shielded their eyes. While they recovered, Loki and Hela stepped in to drive the offending Giants back behind their lines. Loki bodily picked up a Frost Giant and hurled him into a knot of his countrymen, bowling them all over like pins. Hela unleased a wave of toxic fumes that reacted painfully with the skin of the Fire Giants, stiffening it and making it crack alarmingly. They scrambled away from her, snarling in pain.

But no one was dead. And though everyone was seething, they were all standing where they should.

"And you wonder why your peoples have been oppressed for so long?" Loki cried. "This is why! You cannot see past your own selfish desires to act as one to see those desires fulfilled. What does the throne matter? You want the death of the man upon it, and that you shall have if only you would work together. Now," he paused for breath and smoothed his hair back, "no one will have the throne, to sit upon or destroy, but myself. This is a point I will have your promises on, or we can forget our endeavors altogether."

Promise extracted—with grumbles and sneers from all parties, but given at last—he went on.

"Excellent. Now, when we arrive on Asgard there are two points we must conquer before the advantage of our surprise is done away with. First, the barracks. If we stop Asgard's defenses from mobilizing, taking the Palace will be relatively easy. Which of you will take them?"

"What good of that if you insist we spare their lives?" Laufey's voice was sour and petulant as a spoiled child's.

"I do not ask that everyone lives. Such would not be possible in any case. All I ask is that once they have surrendered, you then honor the terms of their surrender. No executions," he finished, firmly. "If they are recalcitrant and refuse to bow to you, you have my permission to kill as many as you please."

This bloodthirsty pledge had its desired effect. Laufey and Surtr considered it.

"Odin threw wave after wave of his soldiers against us," Surtr said, "None survived. Eventually, he withdrew in failure, and we have gone many a year without any chance of more death. It would be a pleasure to kill an Asgardian again."

"Very well," Loki bowed, "What say you, Laufey?"

"I will allow it. What would you have my soldiers do?"

"The secondary objective of our siege will be the defense tower. It has a shield capable of protecting the Palace from any distance attacks, and will greatly hamper us on the ground if we need to cast spells to overcome it. We would not be able to bombard the Palace walls if it is activated and the tower still stands. Our siege will fail if we do not eliminate it."

"We will break its bones," Laufey promised. "And when it falls, we will join you to find Odin."

"Very well. So we are agreed? Surtr takes the barracks, Laufey the tower, then Hela, Jane, the Frost Giants, and I will find and execute Odin."

"No!" Surtr cried, "Bring him out to face us all. I will not bring my soldiers all the way to Asgard if they are to be denied the satisfaction of seeing Odin die. Bring him and his son out to us that we may see them and execute them together. Then our agreement will be fulfilled and I will leave you in peace to your rule."

Loki nodded, "We will tear them apart together. As to the rest," he looked from face to face, turning in a slow circle, "are we agreed?"

When everyone shuffled off, each to their own kind, to prepare for the assault—hours away now, if that—Jane stood alone, reflecting in a sullen, desultory fashion on what her life had become. Here she was, standing beneath stars she would once have loved to study, on a planetoid whose history she wanted to delve into...and all she could feel was how desperately tired she was, how utterly exhausted. Would she ever feel a spark of scientific curiosity light inside her again, now that she knew where it might lead?

Thus far, every step she'd taken into the universe had only dragged her deeper into fear and despair. No wonder she couldn't look to the stars and see hope or beauty! How many horrors had she faced there? How many times had she thought she couldn't possibly do more, how many crazy events had come and gone, and she'd stretched and strained herself to meet them?

How much longer could she do that before she snapped?

Wandering, she put her back to the crowd and stared out into darkness. Not darkness. She could see, no matter how little light the wheeling stars overhead shed. She didn't need her eyes to see; she knew what the planet looked like to the last detail, and would know it whether she set eyes on it or not. So she could ignore where her feet took her, she let them go where they wanted—even though she was too drained to really want anything—as long as they took her away. Away. How long before she could get away?

Not long now. A war stood between her and Earth, and she was already sick of it. Already regretting what she knew she would have to do, how much as-yet-unshed blood was staining her hands. Regret. Shame. None of this was her fault. In a just world, her blamelessness would blunt the edge of those feelings, but this wasn't a just world, and she felt them stick in her like knives.

"Jane?"

Her head dropped back; she groaned. "What? It's not time yet, is it?"

"No," Loki fell in step alongside her, neither pushing nor dragging behind her sluggish pace. "There is time still. Are you frightened?"

"No."

"But you are not well. Why?"

"Why do you think?" she snapped. "I'm about to—oh," as soon as her rage flared, it guttered out under the stifling weight of her exhaustion, "what does it matter? Leave me alone, Loki. I don't wanna talk."

"You may not wish to, but you ought to," he caught her elbow with a gentle hand, but did not keep it when she yanked herself free. "You are not one who enjoys suffering in silence."

"Is that right? And how do you know that? How do you know anything about what I like, or don't like? You don't know me."

Of course she was lying. Of course he knew it. But he didn't contradict her; if he did, he knew that she would push back even harder. He shrugged.

"Very well. Not frightened, not suffering. Hungry, then?" she shook her head; she couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten, but hunger was also a fleeting dream. "Ah, I know. You must be overwhelmed by the genius which animated my whole plan, completely in awe of how I managed to bring together such a diverse group for such a simple, elegant purpose. It is only to be expected," he grinned, wickedly. "A woman of your intelligence must find mine irresistible. We have not the time to act on it now, but I did promise you an opportunity to whip me later. That promise must be hard to forget."

Jane stopped, too stunned to move. The idea of it, of her so consumed with the thought of beating Loki with her nascent powers, watching him bend and writhe under her influence as he egged her on—

A laugh burst from her throat, loud, sudden, starting as a gunshot. Then it spread into her stomach, then down to her toes. She bubbled over with it, golden and effervescent, and buoyed along by it, she forgot—momentarily—her angst and anger and pain. If she asked him to, would he strip off his tunic and let her do it right then? Should she ask him?

A sneaking suspicion he'd say yes raised tears to her eyes; her ribs were starting to hurt and her lungs were sore, she was laughing so hard.

"You," she wheezed, squeezing the words out one by one, "are unbelievable."

"Of course," he agreed, easy and pleased, watching her face even as she clapped her hands over her mouth in a failed attempt to hold her giggles in. "But I will be as unbelievable and outrageous as you wish, so long as you laugh at it. I would rather see your laughter than your tears."

"Even if I'm laughing at you?" it was a sobering change, and it calmed her down. She hiccupped. "That's new."

"Perhaps. It is not a thing I mind, anymore. Laugh, if you will."

"I," she hesitated. Exposing her vulnerabilities to him—him, of all people!—was a new thing too. But she was afraid that if she didn't, something would break at the wrong moment and ruin everything. "I'm so tired. I...I don't want to go through this. I don't want to get through this, if I have to do what I know—" she sniffled, stopped. Waited until the words were right. "I don't know what I'll have to do. But whatever it is, it'll be bad. And I'm afraid that I'll do it just because I'm tired and I want this to be over."

"Jane," when he touched her this time, took her hands in his, she didn't pull away, "I do not know what reassurance I can give you. Your mortal moral code and mine—if you even think I have one—are not calibrated according to the same alignment. If I had your power, I would have turned the world upside-down by now. But you...I have never seen you act without consideration. I have never known you to take an easy path, no matter how terrified or threatened you were. I do not doubt you will continue to do things in the hardest, most frustrating ways. If that, to you, is morality, then I do not doubt you are still perfectly moral."

He punctuated his speech with a kiss on her knuckles, which made Jane tense, but she was too lost in thought to object.

What he had said...wasn't as comforting as Jane had hoped. Then again, what should she have hoped from him? He was right; they did not share the same code. If she was acting in a way to piss him off, surely she was doing something right?

Okay, that wasn't nothing. He was also right; she'd been through so much, hit rock bottom so many times, and she was still going. Still trying. Still feeling. Even now.

She sighed.

"Thank you."

Note: Next chapter, Asgard war! Five more chapters to go!