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?

34. Aimed for the Heart

A/N: HELLO READERS! Oh my goodness, it has been so long since we have last spoken, but I haven't forgotten about you or the story. I want to thank each and everyone of you for your words of encouragement in regards to the story. If it wasn't for your continued interest I would have quit this story a long time ago. Thank you for every favorite, follow and review. I value them all. Give yourselves a pat on the back. ;) You all have been with me for a while and we are truly nearing the end of this tale. Well without further ado. I give you chapter 34. Happy reads and writes and most importantly may God bless you.

Lady Sigyn slipped through shadows and into the catacomb that ran through the palace, she turned around for a second only to catch a glimpse of Heimdal's gleaming helmet as he raced with the fury of a bull through the narrow passageway. Soon he had ran so fast and so far that only the tip of the horn of his helmet could be seen and even then she wasn't sure if the helmet was really still in view or if it was just wishful thinking.

As Heimdal vanished the loneliness and the darkness of the empty catacomb crept around Sigyn. She felt the cold draft play over her arms. She hugged herself. Once more she looked around desperate to find the great guardian. She started to call to him and run after him. She couldn't be sure, it had happened so quickly and so reflexively, but she thought that she did shout out the name of the gatekeeper. She thought she heard his strong name bouncing off the walls and into her ears. Although she wasn't sure if she had actually called out his name she was most certain that he had not called back to her. She heard nothing but the echo of her own heart against her eardrums. Sigyn rubbed her arms trying to shield herself from the chill. She observed the dim torches on the wall starting to flicker. A few went out right before her eyes. Sigyn yelped, if she didn't move soon she'd be standing in utter darkness. The thought of some lowlife criminal that had somehow still lingered in the palace and made its way into the catacomb played with her frantic imagination. An event worse thought entered her blonde haired head, what if there was a Dark-Elf lurking about. With that thought nagging at the back of her brain Sigyn let out a squeal, hiked up the hem of her skirts and fled to the upper levels of the palace.

Breathlessly, Sigyn finally stopped running. She bent over on her knees desperate to catch her breath. Her lungs ached and so did her knees, she wanted to collapse. After a few deep breaths the youngest daughter of Admiral Arn was able to compose herself enough to stand to her feet. Her amber eyes grew wide as she tried to take in the ever dimming light in the secret hallway. She looked around, bewildered. Somehow she'd lost her bearings. The blonde-haired lady-in-waiting to Queen Frigga spun around in a circle, making herself dizzy trying to figure out where she was. She'd been running so furiously, so frantically trying to get out the dungeons that she must have gotten turned around. There was only one way to figure out where she was. Sigyn nibbled on her pointer finger nail on her left hand as her right hand patted the walls of the catacomb. Finally, she found a stone that was jutted out from the wall. With trepidation she pressed the extended brick. As she did so she felt the wall start to shake just a little as the stones slid together and grated against one another. The wall opened just a sliver. It opened just enough for a golden locked head to poke out.

Sigyn's bright gold eyes peered down the hall. The coast was clear. The corridor was empty and silent. Sigyn's shoulders heaved as she let out a pent up breath. Now that the queen's lady-in-waiting had noted that there was no apparent danger she began to search for signs of where she was. The walls painted the color of baby rosebuds, with elegant hand crafted tapestries made of silk and cashmere lining them The floor was made of mother of pearl tile. Beautiful and ornate vases littered the hallway. Sigyn immediately knew where she was, the West Wing, Women's quarters and not far from her own chamber.

Sigyn tip-toed out from behind the wall that hid the passageway, her muddy, scuffed feet had just barely skimmed the rim of the pristine mother-of pearl tile when she heard something. Sigyn's blonde hairs stood up on edge on the back of her neck as she heard the sound of heavy feet. The youngest daughter of Admiral Arn squeezed her fist together to keep herself from jumping out of her skin. She tried to think good thoughts and think positively. Perhaps it's one of the council members. The plodding footfalls grew closer, louder, heavier. She could hear the metallic sound of armor clattering with every step. Dark Shadows appeared on the wall. The shadows were long, looming and shape of the armor was not Aesir. The Dark-Elf guards. Sigyn gasped. Clapped both her hands over her puckered, pink lips and instantly slid back into the tiny crevice that she had emerged from. Desperately she scrambled to find the loose brick that she could press to close the wall and keep the catacomb hidden. She quickly pounded on brick after brick. Nothing happened. The footsteps grew closer, louder and heavier and she was becoming convinced that there were more and more feet coming her way. Finally, her fingers found the right stone and the wall started to slide close. The sound of the moving wall was raucous in the quiet corridor. It couldn't be missed and all of a sudden Sigyn could hear them rushing, running at full force toward her location. Sigyn did all she could to speed up the closing process of the ancient secret opening. She pushed and pulled on the wall trying to hurry it to close, but it was to no avail. The stones continued to rub against each other in a torturously slow fashion as the wall closed.

The Dark-Elf guard were racing down the corridor, blasters drawn, shouting and some were even firing their weapons. Just as they were about to reach her the wall closed. Sigyn sunk her teeth into her pretty, pink lips as she pressed her back against the wall, slammed her big, golden orbs shut and prayed not to be discovered. Outside of the wall the Dark-Elves argued and shouted at one another. Sigyn didn't know what they were saying but the conversation was heated and a few angry fist pounded against the wall. Sigyn imagined herself fading into the stones of the catacomb wall. She knew that the Dark-Elves had no way to access the catacomb from the outside, but their weapons were powerful enough to blast a hole right through the catacomb and to the other side of the palace. The Dark-Elves continued to fuss and bicker outside of the wall. Their voices sounded muffled, throaty and guttural, but between their foreign intonations, thick accents and crude dialect Sigyn managed to make out the distinct names of Malekith and Loki.

After a while the Dark-Elf soldiers moved on. Sigyn listened intently, she pressed her ear toward the slime slick, cobweb covered stones and counted the steps as the slowly became fainter and fainter until finally she could no longer hear them. Once the footfalls fell silent, Sigyn slid down the wall of the catacomb and plopped into a puddle. She leaped up in alarm after feeling the soggy cold sensation on her body. She shrieked just a little as she grabbed at her torn, tattered, muddied, wet apparel. She felt disgusting, but she had no time to worry about appearances. She still had her mission to complete. Heimdal was counting on her, her sister was counting on her, Lady Dagmar was counting on her and all of Asgard was counting on her, although they didn't really know it. Sigyn gulped. She started to shiver and not just from the chill of the drafty catacomb. She hugged herself fiercely as she kept her back to the wall. Her trembling merely intensified although she tried to keep herself together. She was shaking like a leaf and tears were spilling from her eyes. The tears stung her eyes as the mixed with the dirt and debris and soot that was gathered on her face. She took part of her dress and brought it up to her eyes to dab at them and stop them from stinging. As she dried her eyes she felt the hard knobs of the scroll knocking against her cheek. Furiously, Sigyn pushed her dress back in place and fumbled for the scroll within the folds of her cloak. Her dirty hands plucked the scroll from out of the hidden pocket. The rolled up piece of parchment was the only thing clean on her. Her gentle fingers traced the delicate parchment and purple ribbon. She felt the beautiful silver insignia of the Vanir midwives that sealed the scroll. The parchment was a puzzle to her. A frown fell over her pink lips. She didn't even know how she was going to get the scroll to Loki, but she knew up until Convergence was upon them she had to try.

Sigyn knew the sneaky through the catacombs would only get her so far. She had to first find Loki. She wasn't going to find him from hiding behind the walls and she couldn't simply expect the outrun the Dark-Elves. No, there was no more time for these games of hide and seek. She had to put herself out there. She was only a few feet away from her bedchamber. If she could get to her bedchamber at least she could change out of the ruined gown. She felt as if the tattered garment would simply fall right off her if she didn't get something else on soon. She couldn't stand to feel so unkempt and filthy in her attire. Lady Sigyn Arndottir has always prided herself in her exquisite taste in clothing. There weren't many compliments people afforded her over the years, but she had always been the envy of all court for her impeccable fashion sense. Sigyn held her head up high. Ragnorok may be at her door and the Aether may have simply been hours from being unleashed, but if the end was going to come she was most certain that she wanted to at least have a semblance of passing for a noblewoman when she entered into the halls of Valhalla.

She waited a few minutes longer, just to make sure that the Dark-Elf warriors would not come back around. When she found that silence once again reigned supreme in the halls of the Upper West Wing, Signy pressed the loose stone that poked out from the wall of the catacomb and stepped into the hallways. Sigyn was cautious at first, she looked left and right, holding her breath the whole time. She looked at the devastation that the blasters had caused. Craters were spotting the walls, ceiling and floor. Once convinced that the soldiers were no where to be found Sigyn bolted down the hall to her chamber. The lady-in-waiting tripped over one of the craters as she sprinted toward her bedchamber. From her knees she gaped at the havoc that the horrid weapons had produced. The cavernous indentations left by the Dark-Elf blasters were still smoking. She shook like a leaf as she realized what such a weapon could have done to her had she been caught. She forced herself to stand after shaking herself and raced toward her door.

She grappled with the ornamented doorknob. Frantically, rattling, shaking, twisting, pulling and tugging on the pretty bronzed handle. Her palms started to sweat, her pulse started to race, she couldn't get the door open. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but Sigyn could have sworn she heard pounding feet rushing back to her position. But maybe it was only her heart thrumming against her ribcage. Furiously, Lady Sigyn began running her hand through her long honey colored, wavy tendrils. Her fingers were in severe need of finding a hair pin. Her hair was a mess, she was looking for a pin, but would have settled for a twig to jam into the keyhole of the knob and jimmy the lock, but alas there was nothing in her hair of use. Flustered, the blonde-locked maiden started to stomp her feet. She startled herself with the sound of pounding feet. Sigyn squealed as she looked around in a panic. She began to wriggle the knob with even more determination, finally she twisted in the opposite direction. She heard a faint pop. The door opened and Sigyn fell into her bedroom.

Tumbling down she slammed the door behind her. She turned around and put the lock on the door. With heavy breathing, she leaned her palms against the door. "That was close," she whispered to herself. She swiped the back of her hand against her perspiring brow. She looked down at her shaking palm, she was filthy. She longed to take a bath, cleanse herself of the disgusting ash of the Aether, but their wasn't the time. Sigyn scrambled from the door. There was no time to waste. She dashed to her walk in closet.

There was only a bit of gray light that appeared in the window. The sliver of bleak illumination was hardly the proper light dressing, but was all she had. She didn't want to risk lighting one of the oil lamps and having the Dark-Elves discover her. Quickly, Lady Sigyn sifted through the various articles of clothing that she had in her closet. She had gorgeous gowns spun of gold, festive frocks festooned with jewels and tempting togas tailored to fit her like a glove. None of her divine apparel really seemed to matter much now. She didn't have time to try on luscious garment after luscious garment the way she normally did when she got dressed. Normally, she could spend hours primping in front of the mirror, styling her long, golden locks in beautiful woven braids about her head, adorning herself with the most divine of jewelry, she was always ready to do anything to make herself eye-catching. But now there was no time. Whatever she wore could very well be a funeral shroud if she didn't act soon.

Sigyn stripped out of her dirty clothes and left them in a disgusting heap on the rug. She snatched one of her simpler tunics from off of the hangers. It was a rather plain looking gray and dark blue toga. It had a matching hooded cloak to go with it. Hurriedly she pulled the new outfit over her dirty body. She plucked the scroll from the folds of her ragged dress and placed it protectively in the hidden pockets on the inside of the cloak. Sigyn quickly ran her fingers through her hair. Her locks were tangled and caked with the mud, dirt and debris. She did her best to push her filthy curls out of her eyes and tie her messy man into a ponytail.

Sigyn proceeded out of the closet. She still needed to find the rest of the delegates from Asgard's High Council. They needed to be evacuated, along with anyone else who was still in the palace. She didn't have anymore time to delay. She started out the door, but as she was doing so something caught her eye. Something metallic and shiny was sticking out from under the mounds and mounds of dresses hanging in her closet. Lady Sigyn stooped to pick it up. The pointed end of the metallic object pricked her finger and drew just a pinprick of blood.

Her injured finger flew to her mouth as she sucked on it. She shook her finger out for a minute and then took greater note of the object that had offended her. "My arrows," she whispered as she squinted to make out what was hidden beneath her formal dresses. Once more she lowered herself to pick up the weapon. A slight smile tugged ever so lightly at the corners of her lips as the arrow caught the sliver of gray light that had somehow managed to weasel its way through the window.

Sigyn studied the elegantly crafted arrow. She flipped it over in her hands looking at each intricate and delicately manufactured angle of the magnificent arrow. It was a made of solid gold and the tip was sparkling silver. It seemed far too exquisite an instrument to be used for warfare. She dug under her garments to retrieve the rest of her quiver. She had a whole satchel made of supple white leather with silver stitching and jewel studs, velvet and minks fur wrapped around the mouth. There were several arrows just like the one she twirled in her fingers lined up in the quiver. Besides the other dazzling arrows in the quiver there was also a bow. It was a beautiful bow, handcrafted and especially made for her. It was fashioned in the most beautiful of ways. The bevel of the bow had the most beautiful and sensuous of curves that reminded her of an butterfly wings. The bow was made of white ivory tusk and it was laid over with gold. Her eyes misted at the lovely bow and arrow set.

It had been a gift from Prince Loki so many years ago. He'd given it to her early into their courtship. They'd only been officially courting for a little over a year when he presented her with the magnificent weapons as a gift for her being nominated to compete in the Maiden Tournament.

The Maiden Tournament was only one e of the most prestigious war game and sporting events in all of Asgard. It was held annually and was invitation only. Normally, the High Council of Asgard and the Valkyrie Generals would only extend invitations to the top ranking females in the universities and the academies. Also high ranking officers in the Valkyrie and shield-maiden divisions were asked to compete and represent Asgard in the games against the women of other realms. Rana, her sister was a fine equestrian and had been training for the team for several years. She had won several championship races during her academy days and had been solicited bt many of Asgard's universities for her skills on horseback Of course Rana was far less concerned with saddling for legged steeds, but rather the two-legged kind. Nonetheless, she deserved her spot to represent Asgardian women at their finest.

Sigyn had been quite shocked to receive a letter of interest of the Maiden Tournament Committee. Naturally, Sigyn knew weaponry. All people in Asgard knew weaponry to some extent. But she never truly considered herself a shield-maiden. She was simply stunned when she had been requested to represent Asgard for archery. She wasn't terrible with a bow and arrow. She was a fair shot. She had won some medals during her days in the academy. She had a few hunting trophies But nothing on the level where she felt she should have been competing with Valkyrie and shield maidens and warriors from other realms. Her parents were simply thrilled that she had merited an invitation. Her mother was simply delighted. Her Mother's grandmother had been a champion archer of the Maiden Tournament more 1000 years ago and she saw Sigyn's chance to reclaim as a chance to reclaim the glory of their family from centuries past. Her father also had been overjoyed with her nomination. It was exactly the type of publicity and status that he hoped would come to their house from Sigyn's courtship of a prince of Asgard. With her parents enthusiasm she could not refuse the chance to compete. She too was delighted at the notion. It was a tremendous honor and of course it would mean being invited to all the fabulous galas that revolved around the tournament. A chance to see old friends who had moved on to universities throughout the realm, a chance to rub elbows with the dignitaries and nobility from the other realms. Mostly, it was chance for her and Loki to socialize in public.

As Sigyn continued to gaze at the fancy bow and arrow set her mind drifted off to the day when she had received such a splendid gift. The beautiful and ornamental weapons had been commissioned to her by Prince Loki, himself. She was getting dressed for the archery competition in the dressing quarter made up for the women's archery team in the arena. She and the other women were busy lacing up their gladiator sandals, braiding back their hair tying their sashes around their toga, sharpening the tips of their arrows and tightening the strings of their bows. Some of the girls chattered about the competition, how fierce it was.

---

A knock quickly came to the door and one of her full clothed teammates rushed to the door to open it. She flung back the door thinking that one of the official was coming to announce that the games were about to begin. She was surprised to find a tall, dark, slender man standing at the door. His raven locked hair was slicked back and his thin lips were simply curved in a cocky, mischievous little smirked etched across his angular face. "Prince Loki!" The archer exclaimed upon seeing the second son of Odin at the door. Although she had on a short tunic and leggings she pulled at the edges of the tunic and dipped into a respectful curtsy before the prince of the realm. Loki smiled at the gesture. Before long all the ladies were rushing up to the prince squealing his name and respectfully bowing.

It was one maiden, a particularly bubbly, young woman who was studying to be a poet at the University who called out, "Is Prince Thor with you?" She pushed and shoved her way to the door desperate to catch a glimpse of the thunderer in all his radiance. Soon the women were all in an uproar as they tried to catch a peak at the lion of Asgard. The gentle smirk that was positioned on Loki's thin lips fell into a stern scowl as the adoration that had only been his for a few seconds had been whisked away from his grasp at the very mention of Thor's name.

Loki genteelly cleared his throat trying to get the attention of the team of archers who had become nothing but a swarm of swooning maidens. "Ladies is Lady Sigyn in your ranks?" he asked. His crisp and articulate silver tongue finally catching their ears and stilling their excitement.

"Loki!" Sigyn shrieked with delight. She clapped her hands with giddy enthusiasm at the sight of him. He was so handsome, debonair and polished. She licked her lips as she gazed at him for moment. She lost her breath, Loki hardly ever paid her a visit in public. Their relationship was yet young ,fairly new, they'd been courting about a year and in that time, Prince Loki hadn't been too keen on public appearances between the two of them. He was so different than his brother, when Prince Thor was with a maiden he paraded her all around the city. The minstrels, town heralds and scribes couldn't get enough of catching the Prince Thor and his latest beau on their very public rendezvous.

Loki's secretive nature about their relationship had started to make her think that he was embarrassed of her. Or that he was secretly courting Lady Dagmar of Vanaheim. Sigyn pushed those thoughts out of her mind as she beheld the youngest son of Odin standing in front of her. Surely, now since she'd taken the advice of her sister and her best friend, Liv, now that she'd given Loki what Dagmar wouldn't she was convinced that he was turning his heart toward her.

Her friends parted ways allowing her to slip through the center of them. She darted up the distinguished prince clad in green with eager and expectant arms. When she reached him she wrapped him tight in her arms squeezed him and planted kisses all over his face and lips. The ladies who were representing Asgard in the archery tournament hemmed and hawed, sighed and giggled at the demonstrative display of affection. Sigyn was so ecstatic to see him she acted as if she would nearly devour him whole.

"Sigyn," Loki managed to get her name out between kisses. Sigyn flicked back her blonde ringlets and was ready to dive back in for another delectable taste of Loki's lips. Rather, she found her arms being unhinged from around his neck and forced back to her side. Loki's emerald eyes darted back and forth as he noticed their audience. His pale cheeks turned crimson. "Sigyn," he said staunchily, sternly.

"I'm sorry darling," the daughter of Admiral Arn said dropping her gaze, but still smiling timidly and looking to the rest of her companions, who winked, whistled and made kissy-faces and the daughter of an admiral and her royal suitor. "But what are you doing here?" She teased, striking Loki's pale hand ever so slightly and playfully. A beautiful and seductive smirk lingers on her perky pink lips as she sauntered toward the black-haired prince. She ran her fingers over the fine silk of his surcoat. "Have you come to wish me good luck?" She inquired her brows arching. Her fingers toyed with fabric until they were tugging on Loki's earlobe. Her lips leaning against his ear, "Or have you stopped by for a a quick..." She laughed lustfully against his ear.

Loki yanked her manicured fingers away from his ear. His inky brows furrowed in her direction. Sigyn started to draw back her hand, she dropped her gazed, sucked in her lower lip lick a little girl. "Yes, Sigyn I have come to bid you good luck," he stated.

The youngest daughter of Admiral Arn beamed once more. "Ah, my prince, Loki is too kind,"

"I wish all of ASgard fine women the best of luck in today's games," he waved a gracious hand at the archers present. His happy bidding elicited many thanks from the noblewomen. "I also came to present you with this," he said turning his attention back to the attractive blonde woman before him. He waved his hand and instantly out of thin air a black case appeared. His slight of hand was impressive. Sigyn marveled at him. She gasped and her fingers twitched anxiously just above the handle of the case. "Go a head, open it," he encouraged. He inclined his head toward the case. Eagerly, she flung the latch back and opened the case.

Inside she beheld the most wondrous weapons she'd ever laid eyes upon. Brilliant, sparkling gold and jewel studded arrows. Her gold eyes were big as saucers and they welled with tears. "Oh Loki!" She started to cry as she picked up one of the exquisite arrows.

Loki squared his shoulders, "You are pleased with them, then?" He asked. His left eyebrow arching and his thin lips pursed.

"They are gorgeous!" Sigyn pulled the arrows tight to her bosom and hugged them tightly. "My arrows shall be the envy of all the realms," she claimed. "Ladies are you not sickeningly green just looking at these gems," Sigyn taunted her teammates. She wriggled her nose as she waved her golden arrows at her friends. The other women applauded and cheered. A few even asked to see the lovely arrows. Sigyn distributed her arrows graciously among her friends. "Oh Prince Loki, you simply shouldn't have," she insisted as she tucked the arrows tightly to her chest once more.

Loki winced as her noted the tip of the arrow aimed right for the center of her cleavage. "Lady Sigyn," he said clearing his throat, "Do be careful with those," he expressed. The second prince of Asgard heaved an exasperated sigh. He massaged his left temple and then imperceptibly rubbed just above his upper lip. He gestured with his hands for her to lower the arrows away from her heart. "They aren't toys," his crisp voice was nearly scolding and it didn't go unnoticed by the ladies around her. "And I dare say that a gilded arrow through the heart hardly counts as a fashion statement," the silver-tongue prince quipped. His flint tongue elicited a series of gentle giggled from the bowwomen.

Lady Sigyn giggled as well. She quickly collected her weapons back from her friends and shoved them behind her back. "Tis true, tis true," she nodded smiling. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I'm just so surprised, so pleasantly surprised my dear prince." She swooned. "You really shouldn't have." She went on.

Loki shrugged, his charming smirk no gone, "Twas nothing, milady," the prince responded. "Beside you are representing Asgard in the games," he announced more as a statement to all the ladies within the great changing quarters. The maidens cheered and chanted with pride for their realm. "You also represent me," Loki said his voice holding some disappointment. He looked down at the ground only for a moment. His green eyes darted back up to look at her face. Her beauty was commendable he admitted. She certainly had the appearance to suit the role of princess. Too bad that under her golden locks only lied the intelligence to suit the role of tavern wench. "You must be at your best," he assured her," his narrow, milky, smooth fingers landing on her shoulders just for a moment. "This is just to ensure that you will be," he explained and gave a toothless grin. "There is an inscription on the arrow, make sure you take time to read it before the game, " he instructed. "Well I must be off," he said all too quickly. He easily plucked his long fingers from her bronzed shoulders and quickly turned on his heels and proceeded to leave the locker.

The daughter of Admiral Arn was left with her body leaning forward, hands ever so slightly raised, pink lips twitching and expectant awaiting a good luck kiss from her handsome prince. Her gold eyes popped open after she noticed that she could no longer feel Loki's tantalizingly cool touch. "Prince Loki!" Sigyn called sweetly behind him. His green cape billowed behind him, but he halted when he heard his name. His back grew rigid. He stood straight and proper. Not moving a muscle except to crack his knuckles. "Won't you come to watch the archery?"

"Lady Sigyn, the royal family presides over all the games, I am expected to be one of the judges for the magic sparring event," he explained. He so greatly wanted to watch the competition. Lady Dagmar was a hopeful to take gold that year. He knew how diligently she had been training for the games. La He was also training, Amora, a beautiful Asgardian enchantress. Amora was a sharp pupil, eager and full of raw talent and power. It would be a fierce battle between the two of them. He wanted to see Dagmar win. To admit such things would be treason in Thor's eyes. Thor cared for Lady Dagmar as well as he cared for any friend, but friendship should be cast aside in the name of the honor of Asgard. That was nonsense, Loki would have cast all of Asgard aside for Lady Dagmar's hand.

"Oh," her she sighed. "Twould mean so much to us all to have our prince cheer us on," she said, she turned to the rest of the maidens and gestured for them to agree with her. A chorus of "Oh yes, dear Prince Loki do come," soon followed.

Loki turned to face the female archers, handsome grin spread across his face. He rubbed his hands together and spread his arms open wide. "Far be it from a prince to deny the requests of such beautiful and skilled maidens," Prince Loki replied and gave a sweeping bow toward the women.

All at once Loki spun around on his heels wild like a top. Doing so nearly created a wind storm. With which he vanished in a puff of emerald green mist. His little palor trick caused quit a stir amongst the maidens. All were dazzled by his feats of magic, but some were wary as well. "Well, well, well, wasn't that exciting, ladies," began Sigyn's best friend, Liv. The women broke into immediate chatter about the arrival of the mysterious prince in their midst. "Well, well, well," she started winking at the blonde maiden. "You must really being doing a number on Prince Loki," she laughed as she wrapped her brown arm around her friend's neck. "I told you," she whispered in Sigyn's ear. 'Once you gave Prince Loki what he desired he'd be putty in your hands," she teased with infectious laughter as she bumped hips with Sigyn nearly causing her to fall over. Liv twirl her finger in her palm.

"Look here, Lady Sigyn!" Called another one of the archer's. She ran to the center of the locker room where Prince Loki had been standing. The smoke he had vanished in had faded and left in its place was a beautiful white quiver sack and bow. She presented them to Sigyn.

"Oh my, my, my he is truly smitten with you now!" Liv taunted as she made purring noises in the ear of her friend causing Sigyn to burst into fitful laughter. "See he's not even thinking about silly, ole, Dagmar anymore," she encouraged.

"Oh Liv, do you think?" Sigyn asked hopefully. She had only slept with Prince Loki a few times under the advice of her dear friend Liv. She'd wanted to keep herself longer, but she didn't want to lose Loki, not because she didn't want to lose a crown, but because she didn't want to lose the man who had it. She loved Loki.

"Absolutely! Can't you see, he is simply mad with love for you now! Bursting in here as he did, desperate to catch one last glimpse of you," she explained. "isn't that right, ladies?" Liv turned to other women who all echoed their sentiments.

"Ha!" Scoffed Malena, the captain of the guards at Asgard most remote female prison. Malena was a tough guard, but she was an excellent bow-woman. She had recaptured more runaway prisoners than any other warden. She was of an unusual beauty: Tall and statuesque in build, she was not an old woman, but she was prematurely gray also she had several deep scars across her forehead and eyes. Her left I was so badly scarred that she often wore an eye patch over it. Despite one eye being out of commission her marksmanship was impeccable. "That trickster probably laced the arrows with magic," she announce.

"What?" Sigyn asked turning to the captain of their archery team. Her lip was curled in disgust.

"You heard what I said," Malena responded as she flipped her silvery mane.

"That's silly, Malena, why would we need magic in an archery contest?" Sigyn giggled as she shook her head. She collected, counted and placed her arrows into the ornate quiver. "Besides, that would be cheating," she expressed.

"Well if the shoe fits," Malena remarked with a snicker.

"What?" Sigyn asked.

"Loki, is nothing but a liar, cheater and trickster," she spat.

"You dare insult a prince of Asgard?" Sigyn retorted.

"Hmph," Malena snorted. She grabbed her own arrow, quiver and bow and slung them over her shoulder as she boldly step toward Sigyn. "Loki hardly counts as a Prince of Asgard."
"You need to watch your tongue, Malena," Sigyn warned as she pointed her finger in the other woman's face.

"Why?" Malena challenged, "Is it not true? A real prince of Asgard wages war on the battlefield and doesn't spend his time working with enchantments like a coward," she spat. Most of the women in the group gasped at her abruptness.

Sigyn could feel her blood starting to boil as she heard the Its toward the man she was courting. Her palm grew sweaty and she was feeling a very unfamiliar feeling the desire to want to strike someone. Just as her body was tensing she felt her friend Liv's calming hand clamp down upon her shoulder. "Ladies, ladies," Liv spoke up, "Come now we are all going out there to represent Asgard in the games. We need to be solidified as one team, not squabbling like school girls," Live encouraged.

"You are absolutely right, Liv," Malena stated after a few moments pause. "Lady Sigyn do forgive me for my behavior. What does it matter if Loki gave you magic laced arrows as long as Asgard wins," she shrugged and gave a smile that was anything but sincere.

"I don't know what you are trying to say, Malena, Prince Loki would never stoop to cheating during a tournament. He's a honorable prince." Sigyn iinformed Malena before returning to her station to place her new quiver, arrow and bow with the rest of her things for the games. In the back of her mind she couldn't help wonder if Malena's words were true. Sigyn had to leave her musings. Soon she found herself being called to assemble with the others as the games were about to begin.

All the female competitors from across the Nine Realms marched into the glorious arena to the sound of a mighty fanfare and thunderous applause. The trumpets and drums were being played loudly, the stadium was filled with people from all over. They were all waving banners and flags hooting and hollering and calling the names of the female athletes. It was an absolutely splendid event. Sigyn felt her blood start to race as adrenaline coursed through her. Her stomach was fluttering and her heart was pounding. She had always loved the Maiden Tournament. Although the was a decent archer she never truly dreamed of displaying her talents here. She so hoped to bring her family honor in the games, to bring a victory home for the people of Asgard and to make Prince Loki proud of her. After all he had bestowed such a wonderful, illustrious and expensive gift upon her to help her look her best to help her represent him and his family well, she had to hold up her end and perform at her utmost best. She crossed her fingers and toes hoping and praying for the skills that were needed for this level of sport.

When the fanfare ended, a speech of welcome given by the Prime Minister of Asgard, Lord Algrim. He welcomed all the traveling dignitaries, nobles, warriors, shield-maidens and their families. When Lord Algrim had finished his lengthy speech, the Light-Elf was ever the long-winded one, Lady Brunhilda, the Valkyrie General took to the podium and gave a charge to all the women to remember their pride today and remember the spirit in which the Maiden Tournament had been started Millenniums ago. After she was through one of Alfheim's most celebrated minstrels sang a stirring ballad to which the applause of the crowd was very great. And to begin the competition Queen Frigga and Queen Adelheid from Musepelheim came riding on to the field on chariots simultaneous from opposite ends of the field carrying torches. When they reached the center both queens tossed their small torches into a large unlit cauldron, setting it ablaze. The Flame of the Games was lit and so the Maiden Tournament commenced.

The women took their positions all around the arena going to the designated fields and grounds for their sports. Archery had several events with in it: precision, time, combat, hunting and catch and fire. No one was made aware of what event they would have to compete in until the day of the games so it was important to prepare for all. Sigyn waited with baited breath as her team leader passed out the assignments from the officials. Every team member was required to participate in the combat games, but her two events would be precision and catch and fire. SIgyn gulped, they were the two most difficult events.

Sigyn strode on to the field with the other hopeful young maidens, some representing Asgard and Some representing the other realms as she readied herself for her event. The roar of the crowd encouraged her. She looked around eager to see Prince Loki in the Royal Box cheering her on. She was disappointed to find that the second prince of Asgard was not there for her first event. But she pressed on and competed in the compulsory timing round. All the teams that qualified with the best times for how many arrows they could shoot would be able to advance to the next competition.

She didn't have the best time amongst the archers from Asgard. There were several women within the group who were quicker shots than her. She surely wished that the judges had picked another. If her time didn't qualify then Asgard could be eliminated from the rest archery games. It was terrible burden to place on her shoulders. Her palms grew slick with sweat as she paraded herself before the judges. Then she remembered her arrows. The newly appointed ones presented to her by Prince Loki. Her favors, her tokens granted to her by her beloved. She quickly pulled them from her quiver. Such finery should not be hidden before all of the realms. Honestly, she wouldn't have cared if he'd carved them out of tree bark. Any gift from his hand was as good as pure gold to her, but she wasn't altogether unmoved by the fact that they were made of precious metals either.

No sooner had the fair-haired daughter of Admiral Arn pulled the jeweled arrows and bow from her quiver made of silk and satin did her prince appear. She looked up into the stands and in the royal box seats sat both Prince Thor and Loki. The latter seemed to be practically being dragged to watch the games by the other. As the Prince entered the crowd went wild with applause. A few of the women in the competition as well as women in the congregation shouted out with enthusiasm "I LOVE YOU PRINCE THOR!" To the thunderer arose and waved graciously to his subjects. Sigyn's golden eyes focused on Loki. She did what she could to catch his attention. From his lofty seat she was sure she just looked like a tiny ant on the grass. She jumped up and down waving her arms wildly calling out to him. Finally, after a few moments of her hopping up and down and dancing and jigging about She watched as Prince Thor slung his beefy arm around Loki's slender white neck and pointed her out. Thor playfully ruffled Loki's raven locks as he pointed to Sigyn below.

The golden-haired competitor continued to wave to him in earnest. Loki smiled, slightly, hardly, barely and wiggled his fingers, slowly at her. Lady Sigyn swooned, touched her heart and blew kisses toward the young enchanter. Thor lapped up the attention and accolades of the people. As men and women bellowed his name he lifted his hands to his ears and while women blew him kisses her pretended to catch them, one by one he scooped them out the air. Loki slunk down in his seat. All the while Sigyn lifted her marvelous arrows and waved them at him. To this Loki sat up at attention delicately applauded.

When the crowd settled Lady Sigyn took her stance in the line up with the rest of the other maidens. She could feel the eyes of the other competitors staring at her as she pulled her golden arrows from from their silk and white leather quiver. She squared her shoulders a little as she lined up her shot. The judges read the rules, but somehow she was scarcely able to focus on anything that the judges had been saying. She was too busy admiring the dazzling weapon. Mentally, she counted all the gorgeous gems that were deeply embedded within the lining of the arrow. She noted each ruby and sapphire set in the golden frame. And of course she noted the emeralds. They reminded her of Loki's beautiful eyes. She stared at the green stones she was becoming mesmerized by their mysterious allure just as she was always mesmerized by Loki's dark green pupils. Suddenly she saw them flash before her. They were green and illuminated swirling and spiraling like a cyclone the thought of them enough to make her woozy. She dropped her bow for a second and brought her hand to her head to steady herself. After just a moment she'd relieved her dizziness, but suddenly became compelled to do as Loki had instructed her. Read the inscription on the arrow before her shot.

Once more Sigyn lined up her bow and arrow. She was poised and ready to send her arrow sailing through the air, but her golden eyes couldn't help but glance at the arrow searching for the words engraved in the gold. The words were written in plain Rune, but they were jibberish. It was nothing that she ever heard the back of her mind she could hear Malena's snide remarks about the arrows being enchanted. Implying that he would cheat. It was a ridiculous notion. Loki would never do something like that. Besides there was no need to cheat Loki had seen her practicing day in and day out in the weeks that lead up to the tournament. She'd trained with the team and even hired a private coach. She was more than prepared. She had a good mind not to even read the words. That way no one could accuse her or Prince Loki of cheating, but there was a nagging compulsion that was irresistible entreating her to read the nonsense words etched in the arrow and she was helpless but to do so.

Slowly the words tumbled off of Sigyn's pink lips. Just as she finished reading what was written it was time fore her to shoot her arrows to get the best time. It was all a blur after that. Her hand dove in for arrow after arrow, quicker and quicker each time. Her arrows cut through the atmosphere with the speed of laser pelts. She was amazed and breathless when she qualified for the silver medal. Sigyn was exhausted and panting when it was over she'd never shot so many arrows so quickly before. Her arm felt like rubber.

Her success was similar in each event. The final round that Sigyn competed in was in an event called Catch and Fire. Catch and Fire was a drill that required extreme skill and courage. It was a game in which The competitors competed in pairs. One member of the pair had to fire the arrow at their partner who stood blindfolded about 50 yards away. The blindfolded partner was required to catch the arrow that was being fired at them. This in and of itself was a mighty feat, but to add to the level of difficulty the blind folded archer had to catch the arrow load into in to their bow and refire the arrow back at their partner who had a candle sitting atop their head. If all went well. The arrow would sail to the flame of the lif candle and land in the center of the target that was poised just behind the other partners back. If everything went according to plan.

Thus far in the games Asgard and Alfhiem's had been neck and neck both competing to take home gold for the archery division. The Light-Elf maidens were all exquisite prowess was legendary. One of their princesses was even competing and she had been one of the most decorated female archer's in all the Nine Realms. Some of the Valkyrie had even trained under her.

Sigyn's palms were sweating as she took her position and waited for the signal. She wondered why her. Catch and Fire was not her best event by a long shot. It took more focus that the youngest daughter of Admiral Arn truly possessed. She was pretty good as the partner who shot the initial arrow, but she was hardly adequate as a catcher. One had to wait patiently, quietly and have their mind and ear totally attuned to the world around them. The fair-haired maiden had long since figured out that she was no good at any of those things. Her mind wasn't quiet or focused. When she stood blindfolded awaiting the arrow normally she'd get lost in her own thoughts. She'd start thinking about what she was going to have for dinner, or she'd start giggling to herself thinking about the hideous dress one of the noblewomen wore to banquet. Sometimes she'd think of Loki. That normally happened when Loki and her were training together. He was actually excellent at the game. He could catch any arrow that came at him from any direction. But that made sense Loki was so astute and serious. He could sit quietly for hours concentrating and meditating and practicing his enchantments.

Lady Sigyn was sure that she was going to disgrace herself and Asgard with her bumbling ineptitude at the game. She doubted she'd be able to catch the arrow. She brought her fingers to her mouth and nibbled on her fingernails as she walked to her marker. Her palms were sweating profusely, she was sure that she would drop the arrow. ASgard would lose the tournament and it would be all her fault! She'd disgrace herself, her family and her team, the realm and Prince Loki. Loki was counting on her to represent him and the royal family well. Not only had he furnished her with the exquisite bow and arrow set but he'd taken the time to practice with her. It meant everything to have him by her side helping her find the right stances and positioning, taking the time with her the way he did with Dagmar. She couldn't let him down.

She glanced down at the opulent weapons in her hands. Lady Malena's words still played in her ears. What if the arrows truly were enchanted? She hated to consider it. To say so would mean that Loki had purposed for her to have an unfair advantage in the games. But that was simply absurd. Why would a prince of Asgard want the woman he was courting to win the prestigious honor in such a dishonorable way. She doubted that the arrows were laced with magic of any sort, but still, she had to take all precautions to win in the event the very reputation of Asgard was resting on her shoulders. There was nothing wrong with using a good luck charm.

Just as the trumpets blared and announced that the next round was about to take place, Lady Sigyn Arndottir sprinted across the field leaving her marker. She heard the crowd gasp. "Sigyn what are you doing?" Her partner questioned when she arrived by her side. "Get back! Go back!" The other woman ordered.

"Use these arrows," Sigyn instructed as she breathed heavily and passed her quiver to her fellow archer.

Her partner looked and the gorgeous arrows and nodded to Sigyn. "Go! Go back to your position the game is about to begin," she shooed. Lady Sigyn Arndottir obeyed and hurried back to her post. The announcers and judges quickly poked fun at Lady Sigyn for dashing off so abruptly. The crowd roared with laughter and Sigyn too chuckled at her own expense. While she was still laughing another one of the women on her team came up and tied a blindfold around her eyes. She ensured that the blindfold was tight and Sigyn couldn't see. She then set a bow in Sigyn's hands. She patted Sigyn on the back and told her good luck.

With that the game began and a impenetrable hush fell over the crowd. In the calm and eerie quiet of the field Sigyn could feel her mind starting the drift. Her head was all at once filled with sucha hodgepodge of random thoughts. She was thinking about banquet and what she was going to wear after game. Lady Sigyn forced herself to real her wandering thoughts back in. It wouldn't matter if she was decorated in pure starlight if she caused Asgard to lose the tournament. "Concentrate! Concentrate!" Sigyn muttered sternly to herself. She did her best to bloc out all thoughts and was in the moment. She did as Loki had told her. She attuned herself to her surroundings. She felt the mild breeze play in her blonde locks, she inhaled the scent of the freshly manicured lawn of the arena. She listened intently to the silence. She concentrated on her own shallow breaths and allowed them to flow from nostril to mouth smooth and deep. She ground her sandal into the dust of the mound she was standing on top of. She angled her body poised to catch. Then she heard it. The faint whistle of the arrow heading toward her. "Oh please!" Sigyn pleaded as she threw her arm out ready for the catch. She felt something slightly graze her fingers. Her reflexes snapped into action. Her hand formed a tight fist around the arrow. Without thought she ripped the blindfold from her eyes and pulled the arrow tight against the bow string. Sigyn had mere seconds to react or she would lose points on time. She surveyed her surroundings and spotted a tiny flame burning in the distance. She positioned the arrow against the bowstring, her arms stretched as far as they could go to insure that the arrow went the distance. The arrow was positioned snuggly near her cheek and tilted ever so slightly upward in hopes that the trajectory would be true and it would fly to the flame. On the count of three the arrow was released. It flew straight and true and at a blurring speed. Sigyn sank to her knees as she watched her arrow sail through the tiny flame on top of her partner's head.

The spectators went wild with ballistic chants. Before Sigyn knew what was happening she watched as the rest of Asgard's female archery team rushed onto the field. They rushed at her, grabbed her, screamed and shouted her name wildly. They came at her hugging her, crying and kissing her. They hoisted her into the air and paraded her across the field on their shoulders. She looked into the stands and saw that the whole stadium had risen to their feet to cheer for her. Banner were waving vigorously in the wind like a million rainbows. As she was paraded through the stadium she noted that the bow that was where she had been standing was not the beautiful one made of ivory that Prince Loki had given to her, but rather a simple standard bow. AS she carried pass the target she then took not that the arrow that was still setting the target on fire was not a golden arrow that's ore melted in the flame, but a wooden arrow that was ablaze.

Tears started to slowly trickle down Sigyn's cheeks as her fingers held fast to the beautiful golden arrow in her hand. She clutched the arrow dangerously close to her heart. She reminisced on the minstrels striking up and playing the stirring anthem of the Realm Eternal. The crowd full of raucous excitement, her heart beating like a drum as she took to the podium to receive the victors crown. Flowers were placed in her hand and medal of the most brilliant gold, gold so prefect and pristine that one could see their reflection shining in it was hung around her neck. Then she and the other victors came forward and received crowns for their accomplishment. She dipped into a deep courtsy as she awaited to receive the token of for the hands of one of the officials. She felt the gentle way in which the golden laurel crown was place upon her head. Her eager hands reached up to feel the smooth polished gold fashioned into the shape of leaves. A broad smile spread over her young and pretty face when she realized that the moment was no mere dream. She started to rise, her eyes eye so slightly looking up only to catch a glimpse of gleaming jade eyes looking down at her. "Congratulation Lady Sigyn," Loki stated. He stood tall and straight as he looked down at her. His severe lips were curled into the slightest of smiles. Sigyn's heart stopped as she detected for the first time in their courtship that she had genuinely pleased him.

The blonde lady-in-waiting to Queen Frigga wiped the water from her face. She gasped a few times as she tried to calm herself. The splendid arrow slipped from her fingers as happy memories gave way to painful ones. Her victory had been short lived at best. That night, at the banquet that the king and queen of Asgard held to honor all the female champions from Asgard and abroad Sigyn had been waltzing with Prince Loki. The waltz had ended and the pair had taken a drink. Sigyn had expressed how she'd felt slightly parched and asked Loki to get her a glass of punch. Politely, the younger prince of Asgard obliged the small request. When he returned to their seats he found Lady Sigyn Arndottir being swarmed by people young and old offering her congratulations for her astounding victory. She in returned blushed and giggled and laughed at the accolades afforded to her.

Loki cleared his throat parting through the gathering around her, "Your libations, my lady," he stated as he presented her with the glass of punch.

"Oh Prince Loki, there you are, my love, splendid," she squealed and rushed to him taking the glass from his hands. She slurped down the sweet punch eagerly. "Ahh," she said as she finished her drink and smacked her lips together. "My Prince is truly too kind. Surely, tis I who should cater to his highness," she remarked amongst the crowd causing some gentle chuckles.

Loki's green eyes rolled. Still he kept a straight if not bored expression. "Tis my pleasure, my lady," he responded.

"Aye, I'll say," interrupted one of the palace guards who was had just become apart of Sigyn entourage. "Should be the honor of any prince of Asgard to honor a warrior for such a victory," he boasted and took a swig from his ale.

The gold-eyed noblewoman let out a twittering laugh. She playfully flagged at the palace soldier. "You flatter me, sir, but I am hardly a shield-maiden," she expressed.

"You should be Lady Sigyn, twould be an improvement to their ranks to have a woman of your caliber of skill and beauty," another nobleman woman chimed in raising his glass to Sigyn.

"Well I suppose I cannot argue with the latter," she chuckled, as she twirled a finger in her amber ringlets.

"Prince Loki, surely you are proud of your dear lady," offered one of the older officials in the circle.

"Yes, naturally," Loki responded flatly. Sigyn swooned at the bored compliment. She placed her hands to her heart her cheeks filling with blush. She immediately went to take Loki by the hand and intertwined her bronzed fingers with his porcelain ones. She leaned her head on his chest and batted pretty gold eyes up at him.

One of those present who had too much mead turned to another and leaned on his friend and whispered all too loudly in the man's ear. "it is at least good that one of them knows how to use a weapon properly." The pair busted into guffaws. They loudly laughed at the prince's expense.

"Maybe she can be his bodyguard!" The other chimed in as he slapped his knee. More members of the group heard this comment and before long many of the nobles and delegates present were fighting to hold back their amusement.

Loki's eyes went wide, his fair face burned a hot red. He had a good mind to turn those snickering idiots into a pair of hyena's since they were so fond of laughter they could spend the rest of their days laughing. But Loki thought better of it and abruptly turned on his heels and stormed from the group.

'Loki!" Sigyn called coming after him. She pushed her way through the crowd trying to reach him. Loki was quick and nimble and easily able to maneuver through the masses. Sigyn found the feat much more difficult as she had to say excuse me and pardon me to get though the throngs of banqueters and waiters and servants. "Loki! Wait!" She called her hand locking on to his shoulder just as they neared the edge of the banquet hall.

"Unhand me, Sigyn," he demanded as he wriggled his narrow shoulders free of her gentle hand.

Sigyn immediately tossed her hands up in the air relinquishing her hold on the prince. "is everything alright?" The fair-haired maiden asked. "Why did you just rush off like that?"

Loki stood with his back turned to her for a few seconds. His shoulders heaving up and down and his breathing coming out quick and heavy and labored. His pale palms clenched into tight white knuckled fist at his side. "Do you intend to make a cuckold out of me, Lady Sigyn?" He whispered so low Sigyn could scarcely make out his words.

"I am sorry my prince, come again?" She asked sweetly tiptoeing closer to him. Once more placing a gentle hand upon his trembling shoulder.

Loki spun around furiously, gripped her by the wrist and loomed over her. "Do you intend to humiliate me in front of all my subjects, Lady Sigyn?" He asked her through gritted teeth.

Lady Sigyn tried to pill herself from the dangerously tight and painful hold that the younger son of Odin had placed upon her arm. "What?" She looked up at him with trembling golden eyes. "Loki! No! Merciful Yddrasil no!" She cried."What are you talking about? All I wanted to do was make you proud of me today. I thought you'd be ever so pleased about how I won today." she went on. Sigyn's pink lips formed a lovely grin. "I can't believe I won!" she exclaimed. She stroked her own face. "Oh my goodness...it was such a rush, the arrows and the crowd all screaming my name," she beamed and spun around wildly.

"Yes, I can only imagine," Loki muttered under his breath. His finger rubbed furiously across his upper lip. he could hear Sigyn chattering on like a lark in the background. His mind raced with envy and embarrassment. "I helped you win today, helped you save face and not come out looking like the bumbling twit of a woman that you are!" He scolded. Finally, he released her wrist and Sigyn stumbled backward a few steps.

"What?" Sigyn murmured her liquid gold eyes filling with tears. She covered her mouth with her hand, "Oh Prince Loki, how can you say such things to me?" She wailed. She covered her face with her hands she started to sob.

The second son of Odin paid no heed to the noblewoman's muffled cry. "I enchanted those arrows to keep you from making a fool of yourself, your family and this entire realm!"

"You...you...you enchanted the arrows?" Sigyn asked in a timid voice as she pulled her hands away from her face.

"Yes!" Loki shouted. He rolled his emerald eyes, "Do you honestly think that that you had any chance of winning the tournament against some of the best in all of the realms?" He questioned her.

"I...I...I" Sigyn sputtered in disbelief, she shook her head. "I...I...I thought that you...believed in me," she whispered eyes looking down at her shoes.

His lips curled downward, "You didn't have the skill to compete at that level, Sigyn," he stated. Loki shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh, "The thanks I receive from you is that you hold yourself at the center of attention only to make me look a fool!" He spat.

"Y-y-you cheated?" Lady Sigyn asked looking up at the tall, slender dark-haired prince.

The tiniest of smirks tugged on Loki's lips, "No Sigyn, you cheated," he remarked coolly as he watched horror spread across her face. Her throat started to hurt and it became hard to swallow. She'd never cheated before, well maybe she had cheated on a test or two during her grade school days, but to cheat on this level. It was horrible. It was even worse than losing to have honors bestowed upon you that you weren't worthy of. It was a sin and a shame before all of Asgard and the Nine Realms. Sigyn wanted to speak wanted to say something in protest to what Loki had said, but all at once the raven-haired enchanter had vanished.

---

Lady Sigyn stooped to pick up the weapon that she had just dropped. Once again she allowed her hands to fumble with it tracing the lining of the arrow ever so gently. her eyes studied it once more. She beheld every perfect detail of the gold encrusted, jewel studded weapon. It surely was was in a perfect likeness of the prince who had given it to her. On the outside beautiful and polished, regal, noble and virtuous, but that was just a sham. For beneath the glittering exterior lied corruption, deceit and trickery.

Sigyn bit her lip trying to keep herself from openly weeping. Lady Malena had been right about Loki all those many years ago. She had been right when she told her that Loki would cheat. And ever so foolishly she had believed the contrary. She had defended him. She'd called his lies truth and seen him as a good, honest virtuous prince when he was as everyone said dishonest and deceitful at heart and trickster by nature. But how was she to have known? She was a simpleminded maiden after all, she wasn't a woman prone to ponder deep thoughts, she took things at surface value. How was she to have known that everything that glittered wasn't gold? How could she have known that her knight in shining armor was nothing more than a plain, dealing villain.

What made matters worse was even now, now after she knew all that Loki was, all that he had done, all that he wanted to do and all that he would do a part of her still imbecilely clung to the faint hope that there truly was virtue left in Loki. It was ludicrous really. He'd shown her every despicable side of himself and he'd never even tried to hide it, but she'd seen goodness there with in him too, hadn't she? Surely, she had, surely it was not just her own imagination when she saw his refinement and chivalry, his gallantry and kindness, his intelligence and good-heart. Was it? Maybe it was as her sister had said maybe he had placed some type of spell upon her to make her turn a blind eye to all his wrong doings, just as he hand placed a spell upon those gorgeous, wretched arrows.

Angrily, she took the weapon between her two hands and tried to snap it in half. Fine she'd be done with it. She'd snap these arrows and break the enchantment placed upon them and maybe then she'd be able to sever whatever wicked hold Loki had upon her very heart and soul. She gritted and strained. Had it been an arrow like any other it would have been easy to break, but alas the arrow was made of pure gold. She tried to break it by cracking it against her knee. This only caused Sigyn to suck her teeth in pain after banging her knee. She rubbed her knee vigorously trying to massage away the bruise that she was sure would be left there. Although she knew a bruise should have been the least of her worries if the dark-Elves were to come back and catch her.

Looking at the arrow once more Sigyn caught her breath and stopped struggling to break it. Perhaps she didn't want to break the arrows just yet. An arrow that couldn't miss was surely a necessary weapon in this grave hour. She'd need it if she ever intended to reach Prince Loki with the letter. And perhaps she didn't truly wish to be free of the blind faith that she still placed in Loki. Nonsensical as it may have been it was their last hope. If Loki truly was nothing more than a cackling fiend then he would go a head with his plans and Ragnorok would come and there would be nothing that the armies of Asgard or the armies of any of the realms would be able to do to stop this apocalypse. It would be over. And it simply couldn't be over.

Sigyn swallowed deeply as she gathered the rest of the gilded arrows and the ivory bow and stuffed them into the silk and white leather quiver and slung the quiver onto her shoulder. She'd wasted enough time cleaning herself up. She'd wasted valuable time that Asgard didn't have. She had to get the letter to Loki. She'd take the arrows and use them once again to bring honor to Asgard. She hoped that the power that was once vested upon them had not lifted and that the magic still rang true and strong so that she could take them and use them to make Asgard victorious once again and she'd not hesitate to sail the arrow straight and true into the heart of Asgard's enemies.

Lady Sigyn Arndottir crept back through the catacombs making her way to the through the eerie tunnels she listened for sounds against the wall, but heard nothing. Besides for the healing rooms which were hidden in the lower parts of the palace the entire building seemed to be completely silent. Sigyn was worried. Where were the rest of the Asgardians. She had helped as many people escape as possible, but that wasn't everyone. There were still hundreds of soldiers, guards and councilmen who had stayed behind. Where were they? The blonde-haired lady-in-waiting to Queen Frigga wanted to believe that the warriors of Asgard had easily defeated the Dark-Elf army, but she'd seen the damaged that they had caused and she'd seen the Dark Elf soldiers patrolling the halls, they did not seem to be in a panic. They certainly didn't seem as if they were scurrying for cover as if the Einherjar had them on the run.

At best she could only hope that some of the noblemen and women who'd stayed behind were hiding safely within their rooms perhaps she could find some and lead them through the catacombs and get them to the shelters. But even that hope was scarcely growing as faint as the flickering light from the tiny candle that she was using to navigate the dank hidden catacombs.

As Sigyn continued to walk onward through the slimy archways she prayed to the Norns for more time. The ancient race were the keepers of time and fate, surely they would not allow this terrible thing to come to pass. It would be the end of them too. Surely they would give her time enough to find the others and give the scroll to Loki. After a few moments of simply aimlessly wandering, for she didn't know where to go to look for Loki, she finally heard the sound of a great commotion. The heard the whiz and crack of blasters being fired. The powerful sonic boom of the weapons shook the very lining of the walls of the catacombs causing Sigyn to fall to the ground. Her tiny candle went out as it fell into a puddle of sludge. Sigyn yelped as immediately she was engulfed in darkness. She could not even see her hand in front of her face. She scrambled to her feet. She couldn't be sure, but she could have sworn that she felt something scurry around her dress. She climbed her way back to a standing position and blindly groped at the walls for support. She could hear screams and shouts that sent her heart racing. Some sounded like agonized groans and other just seemed the barking of orders. All at once she heard steel clashing against steel, metal banging against metal and armor smashing against armor. She could hear feet stomping and pounding, running and racing and rocks crashing. There was another tremor that shook the very foundation of the catacomb and debris started to tumble from ceiling and hit Sigyn in the head. It was little more than dust, but the fair-haired lady of Queen Frigga started to feel as though if she didn't escape soon the catacomb would cave in on her.

Feverishly, Sigyn felt around the wall trying to find the panel that would let her into the room where the skirmish was taking place. With her arrows she had a better chance of surviving a battle with Malekith and his warriors than in the dark tunnels. Her hand immediately went to pull the bow and arrow from her quiver. She had them read in her hands as she pushed the loose stone and felt the wall slide, She was ready to act. If their was a battle going on she'd not run away. They all needed to do whatever they could to save Asgard. She wet her fingers, and positioned her arrow against the bow string.

The door slid open light flooded into her eyes temporarily blinding her. She squinted as she made her way out. When she stepped out into the throne room the sight of the blood bath left her speechless. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were wide open as she beheld the desecration and carnage in the grand throne room of Odin. The beautiful domed room had nearly disappeared and all that was left above her head were craters. The glistening alabaster floor of the throne room was covered in the crimson blood of the brave Einherjar. Her lip twisted and trembled as she looked around and beheld so many bodies crumpled and destroyed, limbs severed, bodies half charred. Meanwhile the brave Einherjar were still fighting tooth and nail with the white-faced elves. There were so many more Einherjar, but the power of the Dark-Elf weapons were proving to be overwhelming.

In the center of the throne room, at Malekith's feet laid Lord Njel. He was breathing, but just barely. Sigyn gritted her teeth as she beheld the injured warrior. He had been a close friend of her father's. Many nights he'd supped with them, broken bread at their house and regaled her family with exciting tales of his most recent exploits. Now she watched as the leader of the Dark-Elves, Malekith was about to snuff out the brave commander's life with a careless stomp. His spiked black boot loomed over the mighty warriors head. She couldn't allow it. Mustering strength and courage she drew her arrow back as far as she could.

She was ready to shoot the arrow when she felt cold, rough leathery hands grip her up by the shoulders and forearms. Sigyn let out a yell and struggled against the strong holds. She pulled and fought, but the brutal hands of the Dark-Elf guards continued to shove her back. She kicked and clawed trying to get away from them. She swung her bow and arrow in every attempt to bludgeon the brutes. They nearly tossed her down on the ground. Soon one of the Dark-Elf soldiers jumped in front of her. His soulless black eyes dug into her and sent a chill down her spine. While she was being held back be her arms the creature raised a staff toward her. Sigyn turned her head to brace herself for the impact, but just as the soldier was about to strike another Elf came grabbed him by the shoulder and started uttering words in the native tongue of the Dark-Elves. Sigyn understood not a word spoken between the warrior, but she soon found her being driven back into a huddle with many of the other Asgardian warriors had been huddled and rounded up like frightened sheep. She too became frightened as she looked on the scene.

The Einherjar and palace guards had ceased struggling against Malekith band of cutthroats. From there she could only watch helpless as a lanky figure cloaked in green and gold finery took center stage and addressed Lord Algrim. her breath caught in her throat. It was the first time in more than a week sense she had heard Loki's voice. It was crisp and articulate as ever, but listening to the venom that rippled off of his silver tongue made her shiver. She didn't want to believe it, but the proof was undeniable. He'd truly thrown his lot in with these monsters. Sigyn's sank her pearly whites into her soft puckered pink lips to keep from screaming.

With disbelief she listened to cruel ultimatum that he gave Lord Algrim, bow or he would kill Prince Thor right before their eyes. She gasped and shuddered and covered her mouth and eyes with her hands as she watched a few of the Dark-Elf soldiers drag Prince Thor to the center of the throne room. His broken carcass was too battered to even struggle for his own life. He was bound by his wrists and ankles, gagged as well and his handsome face was cut and scraped his eyes black and blue and swollen to the size of walnuts. Sigyn felt her heart stop for minute when Thor's form was plopped before Loki's feet. Roughly, he snatched the Crown Prince of Asgard by his golden mane exposing his dirty, sweaty neck to the citizens and thrusting his pointed dagger tip near the jugular. Sigyn could not watch. Was he was to be sacrificed before his subjects, in the throne room of his ancestors, next to a throne that he was destined to sit on, by the hand of his own brother? Fate could indeed be too cruel.

The sound of armor hitting the ground quickly followed. Sigyn peaked a golden eye through her fingers only to witness that the Einherjar had dropped their weapons in surrender and were slowly going down on the knees. Immediately Sigyn followed suit. She too prostrated herself on the ground on the sidelines before the crazed conqueror that had once been a prince of Asgard. She lifted her head ever so slightly only to catch a glimpse of the wizened Prime Minister of Asgard slowly lowering himself to his knees before Loki.

Instantly. Loki's porcelain fingers released their grip on Thor's blonde-locks and he allowed Thor's limp frame to crash to the floor. The son of Odin only let out a groan. Loki took to basking in the bows. He stretched his arms out wide. His green eyes surveying and making sure every Asgardian knee had kowtowed before him. He relished in the moment of glory. Ahh this proud day that he's so longed dreamed of. The day when glory, victory and adoration would be his. For centuries he'd watched in the shadows and the people of Asgard honored and scraped before the mighty Thor, but now there hero prince lied in a helpless heap before them. Thor's life was in his hands. His for the keeping on the killing. Finally now the people could see who the stronger of them was and the love and respect that he was so deserving of would finally be his. The power of it enough to make him dizzy with intoxication.

Loki grinned with fiendish glee. His sickeningly straight smile stretching for ear to ear. He looked down at the gray-haired Light-Elf pleased as punch. "Sentiment is a virtue I do so admire in the Aesir," the dark-haired mage muttered as he looked down almost beneficently at the head of Odin's Council. Ahh yes, it was the one flaw of the race that had raised him, warriors they may be, but beneath their armor they were soft and fleshy. They were so devoted to ridiculous notions of loyalty, love and patriotism. They'd do anything for their monarchy. They'd do anything to keep it alive. They'd bow before him if it meant he'd spare Thor. Loki couldn't help but throw his head back and cackle. His loud, awful, inane guffawing cut through the silence of the moment like lightning splitting the atmosphere. It was simply alarming. Is this all it had taken all this time? Just a simple threat to their beloved prince's life and even the boldest, heartiest of warriors were cowering before him? It was almost to easy. The brave and mighty Einherjar had proved to be even more sniveling than the pathetic Midgardians. Loki's wild emerald eyes scanned the throne room not even one soul was left standing to challenge him. Perfect.

Lady Sigyn felt her hand clench around the bow and arrow at her side. In one second she could stand to her feet and shoot the arrow through the head of a Dark-Elf soldiers or two. If the arrow truly couldn't miss what had she to fear. At least it would be enough time to create a diversion and perhaps give the soldiers a chance to attack again. The dark-Elves would retaliate and shoot their blasters and unleash their grenades into the crowd of warriors though. That would only end in further bloodshed for the Aesir. She could shoot Malekith, but he was impervious to attack as long as he possessed the Aether. That left only one target. Loki. Sigyn looked up at him. He was dressed from head to toe in the vestments like a king should be. He had arrayed himself in shiny gold armor, flowing cape and royal helmet, but he looked like a vagabond. His nails were sharp and long, the hair the fell from his helmet was wild and wet. His eyes were dilated and glassy, large dark circles encircling them as if he hadn't slept in days. His skin nearly ghoulish in coloring. He didn't look as if any sanity was left with in him. Nothing of the man she once loved. He should have been an easy target for the magical golden arrow to be released upon. He wasn't paying attention. Too busy gloating to suspect any danger now. She should have shot her arrow, but some how she couldn't cause her knees to work properly. They wouldn't rise nor would her hands budge from being pressed to the ground. So she stayed with her knees to the ground and her body bent as tears spilled down her flushed face from liquid gold eyes.

Loki stepped over Thor's unconscious form before Lord Algrim who was still bowed and bent. He lowered his head to touch his old tutor on his gray head. "You've made a wise choice, Lord Algrim," he congratulated. He pat him like a mongrel. Algrim bowed his head deeper under Loki's touch trying to do anything to escape the cold fingers. "If Thor's tongue wasn't so tied, I'm sure he'd give you many thanks," Loki stated. Lord Algrim's lip twisted. "I'm sure all of Asgard will benefit from your wise decision making," Loki whispered lowering his lips to the prime minster's pointed ear causing Algrim to cringe. "Now show your king to his throne," Loki demanded.

Algrim lifted his head and gazed up at Loki with tear filled eyes. The Prime Minister of Asgard would have sooner gauged his purple eyes out than to see Loki sit upon the throne of Asgard. He pursed his rips ready to render a defiant shout of no, but before the simple word could come forth from his mouth Loki's gleaming jade eyes darted toward Thor's beaten body. Algrim looked at the young wounded prince, his side bleeding, head bulbous with a contusion, his breathing coming out heavy and labored as he lie helpless and bound on the floor. An innocent lamb for the slaughter. "Do it!" Loki demanded through gritted teeth, "And show Asgard who their new king is,"

Lord Algrim pushed his way to his feet, "Of course, your majesty," he mouthed with a sweeping bow, but no emotion in his voice. He then turned and led Loki toward the dais. He walked with his back straight and eyes wide and fixed in a petrified trance. The beautiful throne was cracked and toppled decimated by the impact of the battle. Algrim stood to the side and allowed Loki to climb his way up the steep steps of the dais. Timidly, the Einherjar and Valkyrie and other members of court present dared to look up and see the slippery emerald clad figure take his position on the broken throne. It wasn't a sight that had not been seen before in Asgard. Loki had sat upon the throne of Asgard before after Thor's banishment and Odin's Oversleep. At the time many people in Asgard had not been thrilled about the newly appointed king, but they certainly did not question it. He was the legitimate successor to the throne, Queen Frigga was still there and most saw Loki as only a temporary regent. A son of Odin on the throne was seen as some comfort and normalcy after all that had transpired. Now the sight of his horned helmet looming over Asgard's throne could not have been more vile of monstrous.

The once prince of Asgard cozied himself into the cracked throne. He glowered down at the humbled warriors before him. The illustrious chair had certainly seen better days, but once this act was done he would return the palace to its magnificent state once more. Ragnorok would come. There was nothing he could do about that now. But when it was over all the Nine Realms would be purged by fire. The memory of Odin and Thor would be but a shadow in the wake of the greatness that he intended to lead the realm into. They'd see. They'd all see that he was the king that they'd been waiting for all along.

"Hail Loki. King of Asgard," Lord Algrim announced before the people. His voice trembled as he spoke and he dare not open his eyes and look at the men and women of Asgard as the terrible words came from his lips. The eyes of the warriors darted up horrified. There was a thick silence that permeated the air. None applauded or cheered. The Asgardian's simply stared wide eyed and petrified at the usurper. It was finally Malekith, the leader of the Dark-Elves who began a slow clap for the self proclaimed king.

The bloodless elf led his men to follow suit. His white lips turned into a sneer. He did not relish the Asgardian as king. He would certainly not be king over him. He had waited to long for this glorious day when the Aether's power would be unleashed and displayed for all the worlds to cower before. He'd waited for this for more centuries than Loki had even been alive. He'd dare not let the whelp steal his moment. But he had to admit that thus far the trickster's plan had worked like a charm and since the day was no yet won he'd go along with Loki's schemes for now. He was sure in the end Thanos would set the matter straight and would give him his due. And so thunderous applause and cheers rose from the Dark-Elves toward the new king.

"Algrim," Loki's cold voice called to his old tutor. "Bring me Gungnir," he stated. "Your king is in need of his scepter."

A gasp rose from the group of warriors. Gungnir combined with the power of Mjolnir was the only way to stop the Aether. If Loki had it there would be no stopping this evil. The elderly elfin adviser to the true king of Asgard could not just allow the madman before him to possess such a weapon. " I know not where it is, sire" the Light-Elf replied as he kept his gaze down.

"I see, " Loki said calmly shrugging his shoulders. "Then I will go to the weapon vault and get it myself," the dictator stated mildly. "When I wield that which is mine once again, I will use it to enact judgment on you," he stated.

"Be my guest, your majesty," Algrim retorted.

"Oh I will be sure to make sure that you meet your demise in due time Lord Algrim...'Only after I have given you and all of Asgard the privilege of watching Thor's swift beheading," he threatened.

Algrim's hair was already white as snow, but he was sure that Loki's words would have been enough to make him lose every long white hair upon his head. "Cold-hearted wretch!" Algrim spat at the green-clad magician seated upon the throne. Loki didn't acknowlege Loki Algrim's insult but he did nod toward Malekith. The leader of the Dark-Elves smirked back at the new self proclaimed monarch. He happily landed a kick to Thor's stomach. The defenseless prince curled in on himself in a fetal position. Malekith then followed up with a hard kick to the back. Thor let our a muffled scream through the gag. To this Loki raised his hand halting the Dark-Elf from further abusing the son of Odin. At the sight of this Algrim squeezed his hands together tightly . Prince Thor was a sitting duck for Loki's cruel amusements. The fate of all the realms still depended upon the power of Gungnir and Mjolnir and Thor was the only one who possessed the power to wield both items. He could not let the only hope of the Nine Realms perish. He beckoned for two guards to go and get Gungnir from the weapons vault. Loki also sent Dark-Elf soldiers with them.

The Einherjar, Valkyrie and High Council Members of Asgard waited with baited breath for the soldiers to return. Every man slightly prayed that something would happen that there would be some fall-safe connected to the scepter that would prevent the soldiers from being able to remove it from its hiding place. It only took a few minutes but it seemed like hours before the warriors of Svartalfheim returned with Odin's mighty spear. The two guards lumbered forward with the sacred tool, but there was no sign of the Asgardian guards. All eyes searched and scanned for them. As the Dark-Elves approached Loki with the weapon he questioned them as to where the palaces guards were. The answered him in their guttural language which was unknown to the warriors of the Aesir, but all could imagine what had happened. No doubt the men had thrown themselves upon their own blades rather than present Gungnir to Loki.

The white hands of the Dark-Elves presented Loki with the magnificent spear. The prongs of the trident were sharper than any sword. It was made of the purest and rarest gold from the most exclusive mines in all of the Nine-Realms. It was an ancient relic that's power stretched back to the time of the oldest songs of war ever sung in Asgard and now it was his once again.

Porcelain hands wrapped tightly around the cold base of Gungnir. His fingers folded around it greedily. His glowing green eyes roved over the powerful instrument. All the power. All the aw power that was with in the weapon. All the power that was to be bestowed upon the all father was now his again. The first time he'd felt the weapon against his hands he'd been overwhelmed at the power and responsibility of it all. The sheer weight of it was heavy and daunting. It had been given to him willingly by Lord Algrim them. He was simple keeper of the weapon expected to give it up to the proper authorities when the time came and he would have gladly then relinquished the power back to Odin upon his waking, but no longer. He hoped that Odin was still alive. He hoped that even if the old man was just clinging to the last threads of his life lost deep in the Oversleep that he could see this proud moment. How he wished with all his might Odin saw and knew that he was no longer the simpering little whelp he'd groomed him to be waiting for trinkets of honor to be bestowed upon him. He was not that child so desperate to prove to his father that he could be the man he wanted him to be. No he was a dragon ready to take and devour all that was insight. He hoped that Odin cringed in his sleep as he beheld his worst nightmare coming to fruition. Loki grinned with evil satisfaction as he felt the energy from Gungnir pulsating in the palm of his hands

He sat the magnificent golden staff down at his side in its rest next to the gilded chair. It dropped into its rest with a heavy hollow echo that seemed to be pronounced like a death sentence throughout the throne room. "Every warrior of Asgard present now owes me allegiance and I want it sworn to me," he decreed. Immediately, there was resistance. The Einherjar grabbed their weapons ready to attack once more. "Your disobedience and noncooperation will not merely result in your death, but the death of the son of Odin as well," he warned. His pensive evergreen eyes scanning the room and looking directly at the most defiant of soldiers. There was some talking amongst the masses. Loki noting the deliberation shifted his eyes in the direction of the Dark-Elf general. Malekith then took great stomping steps toward Prince Thor. The thunderer had been reduced to curling up on himself in a fetal position. His lips and eyes were swollen so badly that his handsome face was hardly recognizable. The Dark-Elf swiftly drew a concealed blade from his side and raised it toward Thor.

"Stop!" Yelled one of the captain's of the guard from the huddle. He quickly dropped his weapons as he stood to his feet. "I will give my sword to you, my lord, but simply stay your hand from your brother, sire," he mumbled humbly.

Loki's smirk deepened. "Very well," he offered. "Every man here do the same," he ordered. He raised a limp porcelain hand in the direction of the guard. The guard arose from the huddle and marched up toward the dais. He slowly made his way up the steps and bowed on one knee at Loki's feet. Trembling and regretful as he did so the guard brought his fist over his heart to make a warriors oath. He then took Loki's hand and was prepared to kiss the usurper's signet ring. He then noted that the self proclaimed king hand none. There was only one small ring made of a bilgeschnipe's tusk that was on his little finger. Reluctantly, the man puckered his lips and kissed it.

Loki's shrew green eyes scrutinized the bowing soldier. The trickster was careful to be on guard for any sign of deception. He watched the warrior's every move, from the bending of his armor plated knee to the removal of his helmet and bowing of his head and pursing of his lips to the ring. It was then that Loki noted the ring again for the first time since he'd slipped it off his finger to lure Thor into his trap. Honestly, he didn't know why he'd even picked it back up after he'd used it for his trickery. It had to have been out of habit more than anything. He was so used to wearing it, even though it hardly fit.

The black-haired mage felt his throat grow tight as he beheld the crudely crafted tusk formed into a ring. It was slightly lumpy, not perfectly smooth and ever so tightly wrapped around his smallest finger. No stone sat in it, yet its value had at one time outweighed rubies. Loki mashed his lips together and had to fight to hold his hand steady as he felt the guard grab for it. For a split second he closed his eyes trying to push the old images for from the recesses of his twisted mind. He didn't want to imagine himself injured and feeble and bedridden looking to his older brother with adoration and astonishment. If he thought about it too long he could recall ever moment from then. He could feel the throb of his head, the chill that ran across his whole body, the ache in his throat. He remembered feeling so slighted by Odin. He was angry and hurt and tired...oh so tired then. He had been about to roll over and go back to sleep when Thor grabbed his shoulder and presented him with the gift. "I just want you to know...I think you're...powerful." He remembered reading the poorly written inscription on the ring. "Einar". The term for the chieftains who once shared rulership of Asgard.

Loki's throat continued to tighten as if someone had seized him around the neck. Rapidly, his eyes darted up to look at Thor then back at the 's blackened eyes struggled to open. He could scarcely make out even a sliver of blue that was his pupil. His pulse quickened and his free hand flinched as if it wanted to extend and reach out and help Thor. All at once Loki felt a heat rush over him with anger and embarrassment wash over him. How could he even still care at this point? The recognition of the emotional weakness that still seemed to linger there sent him an overwhelming desire to fling the ring out the window and banish every last memory that went with it. He waited for the shriveled little voice of his youth to rear its nagging head and implore him to tell from his wicked ways. Thor was his brother. No, once they were brothers. No, that was just a lie and he'd not fall prey to sentiment, not now when he'd come this far. He was surprised how simple it had truly been to convince himself of the fact that their brotherhood was a facade. Before he'd argued with himself for hours. Now in a manner of seconds such old feelings were easy to dismiss. It was frightening and all at once completely and utterly liberating. Thor was right he was powerful and now all of the realms would see it. With that a sick grin of pleasure Loki breathed in deeply and satisfied as he watched the palace guard kiss his ring.

Everything was going according to his plan. As the one soldier stood to his feet and hobbled back to his spot amongst those other Einherjar and royal officials who were being held at bay by the Dark-Elves. Loki gave a dictatorial glare in the direction of the rest of the soldiers whose knees were bent before them. Their humble posture was not enough for the power-mad mage. His dark emerald eyes showed no tolerance for anything less than complete and utter submissiveness from those before him. Everyone of them now knew that Prince Thor's life was but a bargaining chip for Loki. He cared not for his brother and he would not hesitate to snuff out the life of the true son to their king. Ragnarok was at their door and without Thor to wield the hammer the day was as good as lost. His life had to be preserved. No matter the cost.

One by one, warriors of Asgard started to line up and follow suit to pledge themselves to Loki. It was the longest trek any Einherjar had ever taken; the few paces to the dais where Loki sat. With lips tight, heads bowed, eyes glaring with rage and bodies shaking with horror the soldiers continued to kiss the clammy porcelain hand the was extended magnanimously before then.

"NO!" A voice cried from the rafters. All looked up and beheld a hidden soldier stationed like a spider on a web between two columns. The lone warrior in armor of brass leaped down from the columns he'd perched himself between and attacked with the full fury of a battalion of men. He drew his hooked sword from its sheath around his belt and swung it gallantly. His eyes only saw flaming red as he looked at the horrible sight. The crown prince of Asgard broken and beaten into a bloody pulp before that evil creature Malekith and that traitorous vermin, Loki. The soldier let out a growl as his eyes looked between the two of them. He scarcely knew which one was worse. That monster, Malekith who'd killed so many of their and had once tried to destroy the entire cosmos or Loki. Loki who had once been a prince of Asgard and now was no more than a tyrannical conqueror. He let out a cry of bloodlust and ran right for Loki.

Instantly, the Dark-Elf soldiers tried to seize the guard. They ran at him. They came at him with sword and spear. Hurling their weapons right at him. They fired off their horrible blasters, but the young soldier ran right past every shot fired. He moved like the wind. In frustration Malekith barked out some commands to his men in the guttural tongue of the Dark-Elves. Following the instructions of their general, they threw their terrible vacuum causing grenades right at the lone soldier. The horrible bombs whizzed through the air throwing off light and creating suction and screeching like a banshee as the did so. The bombs hit the ground and caused great gaping craters in the alabaster floors. Some of the grenades were hurled with such force that they hit the walls and immediately decimated them. But so focused was the guard that nothing could halt him. He ran so swiftly and with such determination that his feet seemed to have sprung forth wings. He had never had the privilege of touching the Berserker staff of the old legends. He had fantasized about doing such an act many times before. It was fabled to give a warrior unprecedented power in the heat of battle. It was said to give one soldier the strength of twenty men making him nigh invincible on the field against his enemies.

The youth had never touched the fabled staff but he felt as if he had. He was running faster than he'd ever run before. His precision was impeccable. Each one of his movements was quick and calculated and accurate to a fault. He ducked and dodged, leaped and twirled over the enemy. He blocked their onslaughts with his mighty hooked blade. When a group of them came to attack his flank he'd swing the crooked saber and slash the bloodless creatures straight through their stomach. Malekith's men would fall and writhe and wither, shaking like leaves. Out from beneath their armor seeped an oozy, black substance. It was thick like ink and sticky like a paste. As each Dark-Elf fell at his side he continued making his way toward the terrible creature who had placed himself upon the throne of Asgard.

He didn't hesitate to kick or step on the bodies of the slain Dark-Elves as he made his way for Loki, but the young soldier took care to jump over the body of one of his fallen comrades and went sailing toward the dark-haired enchanter who sat all to calmly upon the royal throne. The warrior set his blade in kill position and was hopeful that his aim would prove true and he'd be able to slice Loki's raven-haired head from his slick, lily white neck. It would be a glorious kill like vanquishing a dragon or a Frost Giant. He imagined watching the monster's head roll. He could die with that despicable smirk on his face for all the guard cared.

His arch was drawing to an end. He was preparing for a landing. His trajectory was perfectly executed for one swift decapitation. The soldier's strong muscular arm spread out. The sword gleamed as it came toward the emerald eyed wizard. "For Asgard!" he bellowed as he flew toward the self proclaimed king who sat ever calmly upon the high seat. Finally, just as the blade was but centimeters away from slicing through flawless porcelain skin, Loki rose to his feet. With razor sharp timing he pulled Gungnir from its rest stand and fired it at the soldier flying toward him.

The power of the blast sent the soldier catapulting through the air backward. Once again his body arching through the air, this time it was hurled in the opposite direction at twice the speed. His body collided with the same hard limestone pillar that he'd perched himself upon. The force with which he crashed into with the column with was so strong that it caused the limestone to crack. The column split up the center and the soldier's body slumped to the ground face first. The armor sizzled and cracked from the heat of the blast. Smoke came from it as well.

The rest of the Aesir present watched with horror as Loki peeled himself from the his lofty seat and skulked toward the renegade warrior who lay face down on the cracked marvel floor. Malekith's men stalked toward the soldier like a pack of hungry jackals ready to devour. Loki walked pass them raising him hand to keep his army at bay. The Dark-Elves fell back and continued to corral and guard the Asgardians. The pushed and shoved the leaders of the council back into a corner along with the rest of the soldiers.

Loki's normally silent footfalls padded heavily across the busted, blood soaked floor of the throne room. His boots crunched the glass and rubble on the ground. He soon stood over the brazen guard. He scrutinized the collapsed man. His armor was brass denoting that he was a low ranking guard, green and fresh. The armor was plain with no special markings, insignia, colors or stones added for embellishment meaning he was a of low class nothing more than a peasant. Loki curled his pointed nose at the body. A commoner dare had the nerve to defy him when the nobles of Asgard had moments ago been willing to kowtow to his demands. He clicked his tongue. This would never do. Either this man cared not whether Thor lived or died or he was just a complete fool. Either way there was no time for any insurrections. He'd not tolerate, not now when he was so close to achieving all his ends. Loki begrudgingly brought the tip of his right boot to kick the shoulder plate of the soldier. If he was dead he would simply have been a martyr another soldier fallen in battle. He may even inspire hope in the others watching. There wasn't time for any of that.

Loki had to admit he found it funny that it was seemed to be the least of them that were the upstarts and the rebel rousers. Just as when he was on Midgard. It was the shaky old man who defied him not the young and able bodied youths. Now it was a no rank palace guard. He'd not have such insubordination tolerated in his new regime. His ears perked as he heard the young warrior stir.

Slowly, he rustled. He wriggled his shoulders and lifted his head. His vision was blurry and the room was spinning. His head ached abominably and his all body felt as if it was on fire. He tried to push himself up, but his arms gave out from beneath him and he collapsed face down. Panting, he lifted his eyes once more and beheld solid black boots connected to green trousers. Loki. Once again he felt the irrepressible rage of a Bererker swell with in him. He fumbled for a second, but then found his sword. His fingers clenched around it tightly and protectively. His body throbbed and felt like one big blister. The power of Gungnir had shot right through his armor, but he felt the need to press pass the searing pain for the glory of Asgard. As he staggered to get to his knees her felt Loki kick his sword out of his hand. He sent the weapon flying several feet away. Bewildered with his blurry vision he looked around helplessly trying to find where his sword had flown to.

Loki approached and planted the base of Gungnir on the back of the young man's neck, forcing his head to bend. "Kneel," the once prince demanded as he pushed the soldiers head with his staff.

The guard continued to shake his head trying to get it out from under the base of Gungnir. Finally, when he had freed himself he brought his eyes to look at Loki. The tyrant's eyes were manic and wild green orbs filled with chaos and rage and insanity. "Never!" Decreed the palace soldier. Loki bared his straight white teeth and let a feral rumble leak from his thin lips. "I...I will never bow to you, Loki," the soldier declared shakily.

Loki merely smirked. He took a few steps closer to the guard. He roughly took the guard by the crest of his helmet. The guard grunted as he felt his head whipped back by Loki's cruel grip. Loki then ripped off guard's helmet. If he was going to be so defiant he might as well let everyone know who he truly was. The helmet came off and the visage was unimpressive the enchanter. The face was generically handsome, but rather plain, brown hair and brown eyes. Loki thought perhaps he had seen him before what attention need a king pay to commoners. Nevertheless, he noted his youth. He was little more than a boy. Too young to be rational or wise, too young to understand when he was defeated. The soldier was young, rash and stupid. Loki pushed his head down deliberately. "You are already down, so stay down, " he instructed in an almost pitiable whisper. His white hands flung the helmet to the side as he slowly strode back to sit upon Odin's throne.

The young man struggled but got to his feet. "Look again!" He challenged. He panted and huffed as he swayed on his feet. He did his best not to fall down. Loki swiveled back to face him. "I'm not kneeling before the likes of you," he stated. "I bow only before my prince and my king. You will never be that for me, not ever again." He declared. "I'd kneel before any man who was worthy, but you will never be worthy!" The young soldier spat. Loki growled. His palms clenched at his side. "You're nothing but a coward!" The young warrior yelled. "Why do you gamble with Prince Thor's life? You are worse than a serpent. You're a traitor and you will rot in the deepest circle of hell for this," he fumed. "But I'd sooner die than call you my king. If you had any honor you'd face me yourself," he railed. "Man to man and risk your own neck," the boy taunted.

"Such boldness for a child who has never seen battle," Loki remarked.

"I'd sooner face battle and earn my spot in Valhalla then serve a false king." With that the young soldier raced at Loki once again. He ran with fury and fashion. Hurling his fist in an effort to make a feral assault. His body was wounded and his movements were sluggish Loki easily dodged each wild swing of the fist the made valiant effort to clobber him. It was a sloppy dance. Eventually, Loki swung Gungnir and hit the palace guard in the stomach. The soldier doubled over in pain and Loki kneed him in the face. The soldier stumbled backward and forward and then tottered to the ground. On his hands and knees he breathed heavily. Loki looked at him and grinned cruelly. The soldier was climbing to stand again. He staggered and fell as he did so. Loki shook his head and turned to face the Aesir. All look horrified and wary of the crazed mage. The palace guard scampered to get his sword. Once he had it he ran toward Loki. His sword was pointed straight and aimed at Loki's back. AS he drew closer Loki spun around a gripped his by his arm. Despite his wiry form the raven haired madman was incredibly strong. He held him fast for a few moments and then vanished instantly before the eyes of all. "Coward!" The soldier yelled out. His voice bouncing off the walls of the crowded but silent throne room.

Loki appeared suddenly behind the young soldier. The soldier could feel Loki's icy breath on the back of his neck. It felt as cold as a gust of wind from Jotunheim and it chilled the guard to his very bone. He shivered bitterly he was ready to turn and face Loki once more. Before he could face his enemy he felt the swift, sharp point of a steel blade puncture his spleen. The soldier gasped then screamed. He managed to turn on his heels to face his attacker. The soldiers brown eyes watered and grew dim. He looked into Loki's ravenous emerald eyes. They glowed with wild excitement. They gleamed like a flame. He watched as Loki's tortured severe lips pulled into a fiendish grin. Loki'd breathing became haggard. "May the halls of Valhalla welcome you with open arms," he sneered as he released the soldier's wrist.

Doing his best to keep his eyes open and stave off the pain of his wound. He started to salivate, "L-l-long l-l-live P-p-prince T-thor," he stammered. "L-long live K-king O-d-din," he cried as he fell backward on to the floor.

The fell to the ground and struck his head on the alabaster floor of the throne room. He merely winced and moaned from the pain. Immediately the red liquid from the stab wound began to flow. It bubbled forth shooting out of the damaged armor and pooling around his stomach and thighs. The palace guard let out wheezing gasps as he tried to breathe. Each breath sent a shooting ache through his damaged spleen. Bile and other bodily juices started to flow and intertwine with the crimson blood. The guard's hand slowly, shakily maneuvered its way toward his side. The warrior did his best to try to stop the blood. His other hand climbed toward the back of his head there too blood was starting to pour. The guard groaned, his limbs twitched and his lip quivered as his eyes closed.

Loki loomed over the palace soldier. His own breaths were still coming out sharp and quick as if he'd been running for miles in the hot sun. His shoulders were hunched, rounded like the hood of a cobra. His nostrils flared as he caught a simple whiff of the bile being emitted from the soldier's body. It was a sickening stench in his nostrils, nearly gag worthy. His shrewd jade eyes glanced over the shaking body of the shoulder. He was shivering from cold as his life's juices ran out of him quickly. The young man was shaking like a leaf, his lips quivered as he feverishly tried to suck in air. Loki's keen emerald orbs detected the faint rise and fall of his chest.

Loki's quick, sharp silvertongue felt thick and heavy as lead in his mouth. His breath hitched and he could scarcely breathe. He mashed his lips together, a tight, anxious sensation started to form in his chest. The son of Laufey looked around with his with wide eyes with his jade pupils dilated as he stared at the crowd of Dark-Elves and Aesir in the throne room. The white-faced Dark-Elves faces held no emotion at all. Their pit-like black eyes housed no trace of sentiment. Some even wore an expression of pleasure. Their leader seemed particularly pleased with the act of violence. He wore a slick grim on his ashen, whited lips. His eyes that were the color of the nasty black and red mix of the Aether danced as he looked at the young soldier gasping for air.

Malekith took a few lumbering steps forward. He stood by Loki's side and nodded to the self proclaimed king approvingly. He'd wanted to kill all of the Aesir soldiers who'd opposed him and his men. They could have done it. The Aesir were not prepared to fight off their weapons and with the Aether raging inside him they were as good as dead. It was Loki who had wanted to spare them. He wanted the Aesir alive so that he could gloat and reign over them. He cared not for the slim Aesir magician's gloating and pride, he merely wanted to see this poisoned, pretty polished kingdom of light and happiness destroyed. The times were his kind ruled and subjugated all the other races of the Nine Realms was the original state of the universe and it was how it would be once again by this time tomorrow. Still, he was impressed to finally see Loki strike an opponent down in a death blow. He wondered why he hesitated to do some with Prince Thor.

After the approving nod, the Dark-Elf general took a few steps closer to the fallen bodily. It wasn't that Malekith didn't enjoy watching an enemy suffer. The ruthless controller of the Aether had never shown any pity for an enemy ever, but he wanted to once again reveal the might of the Aether. With the right amount of concentration he could simply shoot a few pinprick sized Aether blast from his fingertips and finished the palace soldiers life. He started to chuckle with happiness at the thought of doing so. He continued to circle around the unsuspecting palace soldier like a hawk.

While Malekith stared at his prey, Loki's eyes looked out at the Aesir people. The strong warriors of Asgard, Einherjar who had fought in countless battles, most of whom had fought wars since before he was born, all of whom had stared death in the eye on numerous occasions and had laughed heartily in its face. never known defeat. Now they had been beaten back into corners like scuttling rats and frightened sheep. Their eyes were full of terror, faces were stricken each man looking pale and sick. Their mouths hung open with repulsion and disbelief. Their horrified stares lasted only a few moments before long Loki watched their expressions change. Fear was still palpable in the air, but there was an undercurrent of rage.

The faces of the men changed, color returned to their cheeks and they became hot red like tomatoes. Their eyes narrowed and their brows knit together in pensive glares that they directed in the direction of the merciless tyrant who dared to call himself the king of Asgard. The soldiers and council members bore their teeth and Loki could hear them growling. Before long the soldiers started to shout and jeer.

"Loki you heartless scoundrel!" Lord Algrim called from the dais. Loki immediately turned toward the elderly Light-Elf, but before he respond to the Prime Minister of Asgard he heard more insults hurled his way.

"Monster!"

"Savage!"

"Coward!"

"Bastard!" One of the members of the High Council of Asgard yelled. Loki spun on his heels facing the direction of each of the men who dare to insult their king. He had a good mind to allow each of them to meet the point of his shiny silver dagger just the same as the young upstart who was lying on the floor helpless and still gasping for air. This particular name caught his ear. A reminder of the cold hard truth that he was an illegitimate. No ones son, no ones kin...a bastard. The raven haired enchanter could feel his lip clench and quiver. His finger twitched as well and he felt the urge to fling his dagger right through the councilman chest.

Perhaps he would have had it not been for the fact the despite the shouting, yelling and jeering the Einherjar warriors, palace guards and noblemen made no attempt to struggle against the Dark-Elves who held them captive. Bluster and bawk and squawk as they may the soldiers weren't putting up a fight of resistance. Perhaps it was because they still feared for Prince Thor's life. Sentimental fools. But seeing him ruthlessly plunge his bright, silver dagger into the side of the young soldier confirmed in all of their minds how base and perverse Loki was. They could put nothing pass that monster. He'd led the Dark-Elves into the heart of the city, seized the throne and killed one of his own people, surely he'd kill his brother if provoked.

Perhaps the Asgardians didn't strike and fight because they realized that it would simply be an exercise in futility. In less than 24 hours Convergence would be upon them. The worlds would align. Malekith already had the Aether raging inside him. Asgard's Imperial City already stood in ruin and once the Aether was unleashed the rest of the Nine Realms would all be the same. There was surely nothing they could do to stop it.

Noting that Loki began to cackle fiendishly. His thin lips spread into a devilish grin and his wild manic guffawing rang out through the throne room. He arched backward and spread his arms wide as he went on laughing like a mad man. He'd won. He'd finally won. With Convergence merely hours away and the Aether in the hands of his ally there was nothing to keep him from achieving his own ends. Once the Aether was set free through the Convergence holes and Thanos was able to be released from his prison on the outskirts of the cosmos Thanos would reward him. With Thor powerless until after Convergence had taken place and the people of Asgard helpless to do anything to stop what was to come there was no need to kill anyone. He wanted every Aesir present to be alive to see their beautiful, glittering, golden world under his boot and control. He wanted all to bow to him and he wanted them to see their beloved Prince Thor groveling before him on his hands and knees.

After a few more moments of wicked cackling, the self proclaimed king of Asgard slowly composed himself. He forced his wiry, lithe body to stand once more in the proper posture a king should hold it in. With ease, he performed a slight hand his jeweled dagger that was covered in blood vanished from his bony, ivory fingers into thin air and magically found its way to its concealed sheath around his waist. As Loki straightened, he felt a drop of liquid trickle down hips and on the outside of his outer thigh, down to his leg and calf.

The feeling was slightly uncomfortable and caused Loki to break from his proud stance. His wild green eyes flickered just for a moment and he happened to look down at his right hand. The ivory skin on his hand was painted red. His palm was splattered with crimson liquid. It was thick and sticky and warm. His hands had never felt so warm. All at once Loki could feel his heart beating inside his ear drums and pounding in his chest. It was a racket. He felt his stomach clench and flip and dip as it tied itself in knots. As Loki stared at his hand it started to tremble. It trembled slightly at first and then the shaking became somewhat more violent. So much so that he had to grip his wrist with his left hand in only to keep his whole body from convulsing. The blood seemed to be spreading across his hand. What started as just a few simple spots of bright red blood splattered on the inside of his palm, but soon the blood was boiling over his hand like red hot lava cascading down on white sandy beaches. It seemed to ooze forth from every crevice of his hand. It poured from his long, jagged, talon like fingernails and rand down each and every digit and thumb. It covered his hand and slid pass his wrist and soon flowed down to his arm and down to his elbow. Loki's eyes grew wide. He shook his head as he beheld his creamy skin overcome with the sick, bubbling bloody flow.

The onyx locked mage felt the thick, red liquid burn against his alabaster flesh. He nearly gasped, but instead merely hissed. It was as if the soldiers blood intended to finish the job of the soldier. It seeped into his pores, clogging them and searing its way beneath his skin. Loki sank his sharp white teeth into his thin lower lip, trying to endure the pain of the Aesir soldier's blood desperately burrowing itself into his body. The pain was excruciating. His arm started trembling more and more violently. He did his best to control the limb, but against his will it started writhing wildly. Loki's jade eyes went wide and he let out an agonized scream as the soldier's blood mingled with his own. The blood didn't match. It could not mingle and his body rejected it. His body reacted out of self defense. It could not allow the soldier's life juices to become intwined with his. Immediately, he felt a strong chill wash over his body to contrast against the warm blood. His pale flesh started to change. He watched it morph from a delicate ivory shade and to a horrific ice blue. Loki gasped and shook his head. "No. No. No." He muttered to himself his eyes anxiously moving back and forth. The Aesir people would surely see him for what he truly was.

"NO!" Loki screamed and slammed his eyes shut. When his milky eyelids reopened and his emerald eyes glanced down at his hand once more, he was surprised to find only a few small splotches of blood on his palm, the back of his hand and thumb. Loki sucked in a few sharp breaths. His eyes continued to dart back and forth, the movements were so quick they'd be nigh unnoticeable if anyone had been watching. Much to his relief, Loki found that no one seemed to be staring at him with anymore terror than they originally had. He shook his head a few of his black locks falling before his face. He rubbed his left hand over his face. He could hear the young soldier's labored breathing from the floor. He turned his head to look at the palace guard that he'd just stabbed. The young warrior was hearty, Loki had to give him that, but then again that was the make up of the people of Asgard they were strong, they did not die easily or quickly. But he would die. That Loki was certain of. His knives were deadly and so was he when he wielded them. He'd meant to damage vital organs and that was what he'd done. Loki watched as blood, and bile gurgled up from the palace guards throat.

He averted his gaze and stared back at his own hand. The same blood spilling forth from the soldier's esophagus was on his hands. Loki squeezed his hand into a fist. The blood was on his hands. Aesir blood was on his hands. He'd killed before. He'd killed many, many, many times before. He'd fought in many battles and wars over the centuries before. He'd used magic, sword and spear and dagger to kill. He'd killed beasts, men. So why should this have been any different? He didn't know. He'd never had Aesir blood on his hands. Not like this. Yes, he'd killed the guard, Ingvar, but he hadn't killed so quickly, it had been after weeks and possibly even months of degrading ridicule under the hand of the cruel warden. He'd killed with his magic so there had been no blood.

It was something about the blood the blood. He'd never had the blood of his own people on his hands. No. Not his people. Not his people. He was not Aesir and never would be. He blinked hard before he straightened himself to a perfectly poised and regal position and the flippantly wiped his blood stained hand on the outer jacket of his tunic.

He looked up into the crowd of soldiers, and nobles who were being held at bay by the Dark-Elves, who would not hesitate to zap an Asgardian who stepped out of line with their taser staffs or blast them clean through with one of their rifles. The Aesir people present were still shouting and jeering, but were being pushed back and threatened by the Dark-Elves. The creatures from Svartalfheim seemed to be doing well in quelling the unruly group. "Get them out of here!" Loki ordered turning to Malekith. He waved a declarative hand in the direction of the Dark-Elf general.

"Round up those worms and take them to the dungeons!" Malekith barked at his men. Obediently, the the warriors obeyed their general's commands, they gripped up the High Council members of Asgard roughly around their shoulders and arms and pushed them forward. They pointed their blasters at the back of the Einherjar's heads and ordered them along.

"No," Loki contradicted, "Let them go to their rooms, just keep watches on the doors," he breathed as he closed his eyes. Malekith started to protest. He argued with the new king of Asgard in the crude tongue of his people. "I...I...I want the only guest in my dungeon to be Prince Thor," he remarked loud enough for all the Asgardian people to hear. "Take them to their rooms and get Prince Thor out of my sight!" Loki hissed bitterly as he looked down his long pointed nose at the pitiful blonde he once called his brother. The sight of the mighty Thor lying helplessly at his feet caused a sinister snicker to slither over his severe lips.

He stood in the midst of the hubbub with Thor's beaten, body lying like a pulverized carcass to one side of him and an Einherjar general at the other side. He watched as the rest of the Aesir people scuttled out the room like frightened sheep being driven by barking dogs. His breathing quickened. His chest swelled, his green eyes gleamed as he was endowed with an overwhelming sense of power. A smiled played on his mouth as he watched the Dark-Elves marched the people from the throne room like prisoners. Some were screaming and shouting their hatred for Loki and Malekith and others were crying, praying that Ragnorok would not come.

Still one face caught his eye. In the midst of dozen of Aesir frantically rushing and trying to flee one walked slowly and stared right back at him. Loki's mouth grew dry as he caught sight of her dirty, face. "Sigyn?" he breathed. Her golden eyes were wider than he had ever seen them. He sweet, tanned face looked haggard, worn and grief stricken. Her lips were quivering something fierce, and tears poured from her liquid gold eyes. Their eyes met for but a moment. Wild, wicked, emerald eyes locked on to petrified and hurt amber ones. Loki's silver tongue felt like lead and he could not lift it to form one syllable as he beheld her.

He had never seen such terror and repulsion in her eyes. She looked at him like he was an animal. Some type of hideous, horrendous, monstrous beast. She'd never looked at him that way. Of course he couldn't be completely sure, for he had not been able to see the look on her face when she had first seen him in his most frightful and savage of states, when he was reduced to showing himself in his true Frost Giant form. No, he had not seen the look upon her face when she first encountered his wretched blue scaly body and horrific blind, red eyes. He couldn't be certain of the look that had been upon her face when she'd heard him screaming his lungs raw, but he couldn't imagine it could be any more fearful than this. Nothing could have been worse than this. The way in which she stared at him as if she never knew him cut through his heart as if it had been pierced by one of his own daggers.

Normally, in her innocent, amber eyes he found an unyielding fondness for him. She always looked at him with admiration and compassion and warmth. Maybe she hadn't understood the intricacies of every emotion that he'd felt, but there was empathy in her. "You didn't kill the doe?" Sigyn said to him one day after they had just come from a royal hunt. She lingered in his chambers after the event.

"No," he stated coolly as he sharpened on of his daggers in the corner of the bedroom.

"It was an easy shot, why didn't you take it?" she asked rising from the couch and daring to walk closer to him. His rigid posture betrayed his mood.

"Perhaps I am not a good shot," he snorted.

"You are handy with a bow," she insisted.

"Not so handy, I suppose. I cost Thor and his hunting party the bragging rights over those of our cousins," he shrugged.

"Thor was displeased, you knew he would be so why didn't you take the shot?" she continued.

"Spoiled boy has to learn to deal with disappointment," Loki vigorously dragged the flint over the blade of his dagger.

"Why didn't you shoot the deer?" Sigyn asked once more. Her hand straying to touch his shoulder.

"There was a fawn," Loki mumbled and dropped the arrow. "I suppose that is weakness," he let out a shuddering breath.

Sigyn's lips formed a smile. "Oh no, no, Loki not at all, no," she muttered merrily. She threw herself on him and hugged him tight from around his back. She nuzzled her cheek against his armor. "I think quite the opposite. It is a man of strength who shows mercy to the gentle creatures," she beamed.

He turned to her, his eyes wide with disbelief, "You think I'm strong?" He queried inky eyebrow raised.

"yes," she responded and stroked his face. "One time I refused to kill a bird in the yard for the very same reason," she explained. "We have that in common," she grinned ear to ear as she wrapped her hands around his neck and leaned in to kiss him. Her eyes convey the sincerest love he'd ever seen. "S-s-Sigyn," he barely managed to choke out her name. He saw the bow and arrow in her hands. They were being held at her side, but they were waiting to be aimed. He was ready for her to take a shot at him. Instead he watched her break from the crowd and rush toward the fallen palace guard.

One of the Dark-Elves started to shout and run after her. Loki jumped in front of him, blocking him from attacking the blonde-haired lady in waiting to the queen of Asgard. 'What are you doing?" Malekith questioned pointing to Sigyn as she stumbled to the soldier.

Loki held his nose up. "Hmph," the raven haired mage began, "she is but one woman, she poses no threat to our plans," he advised.

Malekith's black eyes grew red around the edges as the Aether welled up inside him. The gem was powered was sensitive the emotions of its host. It reacted whenever it felt threatened. "She should be taken with the others," the possessor of the Aether argues. He started to stalk over to Sigyn where she knelt before the fallen soldier. He had every imaginable desire to grip the Aesir maiden by her long blonde mane and drag her to the dungeons despite Loki's commands.

"I said, she's no threat!" Loki intercepted the Dark-Elf leader, and gripped him by his arm.

Malekith growled as he felt Loki's skinny fingers wrap around his leather bound wrists. He wanted to unleash the wrath of the Aether on the Asgardian wizard. Alas according to The Other he was necessary to achieving the cause. He'd not allow anything to stop Convergence from coming and the Aether from being unleashed, even if that meant obeying the self-proclaimed King of Asgard. It would be but a matter of hours until Thanos was freed from his prison on the outskirts of the branches of Yddrasil and would set the record straight and make him king. The Dark-Elf's bloodless, white lips stretched into a bemused smile. "Another one of your women?" He taunted. He remembered how broken the enchanter had been over the last one.

"No," Loki retorted all too quickly.

Malekith craned his neck to get a better look at the face of the weeping woman. He noted how fair she was although she looked like a scraggly, little raggamuffin. He was sure when she was cleaned and polished to perfection she would be quite lovely to have in a bed. "Then perhaps she can be mine," Malekith remarked.

"Set up the communication rooms and take Prince Thor to the dungeon," Loki ordered.

"As you wish, King Loki," Malekith stated and bowed low with a smile on his lips. The armor clad elf then lumbered forward and dragged Thor's limp body across the throne room floor. Loki lingered just a little while in the battered throne room. He watched as Sigyn gathered the fallen palace guard in her arms.

The soldier's breathing was heavy, his face was covered with blood and so was his side. "Dyson! Dyson! Dyson," Sigyn cried as she slid next to him. Her hands immediately strayed to pull his bleeding head on to her lap. "Dyson! Dyson! Dyson!" She cried as she stroked her fingers through his messy brown locks streaked with blood.

Dyson managed to get his eyes to look up at the beautiful, tanned face that was above him. His shaky lips formed a weak smile before he started to cough up more blood. It splattered across his face and onto Sigyn's cheek. "S-s-s" was all he was able to utter as his lungs filled with liquid.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! It's me," Sigyn offered a smile, but water was streaming down her face. She gently allowed her fingernails to rub across the palace guards cheek. "You're going to be alright," she whispered. Weakly, Dyson shook his head. "Yes, yes, yes, you will," she encouraged. "We just need to get you to a healer," she talked on. "We just need to get you to a healer," she nodded. "They'll get that wound patched up... they'll get you all patched up and you'll see...you'll be right as rain, Dyson," she smiled through tears. She looked around and tried to find something to plug his wound. She ripped a piece of her gown and pressed it into his side. Blood flowed quickly and saturated the piece of fabric almost immediately. Sigyn noted that the blood flowing from the wound was growing cold. "HELP!" The lady-in-waiting screamed at the top of her lungs. "Help!" She yelled again and started to sob because there was no one there. "You're going to be alright, you're going to be alright," she continued to whisper. "I can't believe," she shook her head. "I can't believe Loki did this. All this. Oh Dyson everyone is so right about him. He is a monster," she blubbered.

"F-F-Failed," Dyson said as blood spewed from his lips.
"No, no, no, no," Sigyn murmured back. "You didn't fail," she promised him taking him by the hand and squeezing it tight. 'you did more than any man has done. More than even the Einherjar. You didn't fail, you did good. You did wonderful, Dyson, I am so proud of you," she stated as he tears fell on his blood covered face.

Dyson's face twitched as he tried to form a smile. "F-for A-a-asg-g-gard," he moaned in pain.

Sigyn squeezed his hand harder. "Your sacrifice will not be in vain," Sigyn swore. "All the realms will know of what you did today," she promised.

"F-f-f-for y-y-you," he breathed finally.

"Thank you, Dyson," Sigyn stated in a sob. She lowered her head and brought her trembling pink lips down upon Dyson's cool forehead. Then she pressed her mouth against his bloody lips and Dyson smiled at her with love and admiration before his eyes rolled back in his head and his body stopped shaking. "Dyson? Dyson?" Sigyn asked as she shook his limp body. "Oh Dyson!" She cried. "May the halls of Valhalla welcome you with open arms this day," she prayed over him.

She then turned sharp as a viper and took her golden arrows in her hand and was ready to shoot them straight through the heart of the monster that did this terrible deed, but when she saw the back of Loki's green cape fluttering out the room all she could do was drop the arrows and cry over Dyson's body.