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?

55. Just Before Dawn

A/N: HEEEELLLLOOOO READERS! It has been so long since we have last spoken. I am so sorry that it has taken me so long to update. Honestly, it seems like a life time ago. The last time I updated the world looked a lot different. Smh. Please know that in the midst of this pandemic/quarantine that I have been faithfully writing, but it still took me longer than I expected. Also please know that I still received each and everyone of your follows, favorites and of course reviews and they continue to bring a smile to my face during this crazy time. I hope each and everyone of you are staying safe and that your families are healthy and strong. I enjoyed writing this chapter. Although admittedly it was a difficult chapter to write. I hope this chapter can bring a little entertainment to you and a smile to you face in the midst of this crisis. Happy reads and write and GOD BLESS YOU! without further ado...

Chapter 55

The Final Battle

Thor protested, he groaned and struggled against their brutality. He pulled as best could against their hands. Thor was weakened incredibly, his powers completely sapped, but his struggle against them still revealed his incredible strength that was lying suppressed by the terrible potion that Loki had given him. "NO," he groaned his voice sore and gravelly. "You...can't... can't do this," he insisted.

"Shut-up!" Malekith roared back at him. He bared his terrible gray teeth. "There's nothing you can do to stop us!" he reminded the prince of Asgard as he landed a swift blow across Thor's cheek. Thor's eyes were already swollen and blackened, his lip busted terribly and purple and fat. But when Malekith hit him across the face once more he had brass knuckles on his hands and he caused Thor's nose to start bleeding. The blood splayed everywhere and ran down his face in a hot, red trail. Thor gasped as he was forced to taste his own blood, hot, salty with a bitter, nasty coppery finish.

The crown prince of Asgard spit the vile red substance from his mouth. "Some...one...s-s-someone...will stop...you!" Thor declared.

Lord Malekith tossed his head back and let out a roar of a laugh. He grabbed his belly and arched his back. The rest of the Dark-Elf soldiers all joined in in mocking Prince Thor as well. It sounded like a roll of thunder as it bounced off of the cement and metal all around. It was terrible echoing in his ears. His own element had turned against him. Everything had turned against him...his powers and even his own brother. Thor didn't have time to contemplate any long before Malekith's harsh voice was back reverberating in his ear. "Like who? You?" the leader of the Dark-Elves teased. He looked down at Thor with his soulless black eyes and spat at him. His slimy saliva landed on Thor's golden mane. The son of Odin managed to mash his lips together Thor was still on his knees he shook fiercely from both fatigue and anger and fear. "I have waited for this day a long time," Malekith explained as he rubbed his palms together. "To exact the vengeance on you and your miserable kingdom, 2000 years of justice, in the waiting..." Malekith went on in his native tongue. Thor could scarcely make out the words that were coming out of his mouth. His mind was so foggy. "This has been a long time coming," he went on with a sick smile plastered all over his face. He stooped down just a moment. He kept that twisted grin painted on his bloodless lips. Malekith's harsh features swam in and out of focus. He tried to keep his eyes open, stay focused, but he felt as though he would pass out. Malekith noticed Thor's head bobbing. He growled. he thought about punching him again, but instead he kicked some mud right in his eye. Thor screamed as the disgusting, tainted muck burned his irises and he wasn't even able to wipe his face. "Does is sting? Does it burn?' Malekith taunted ever cackling like fiend. Thor shook his head vigorously as he tried to clear the nasty mud that was mixed with blood and spit and fecal matter face his face. The Dark-Elf general's face twisted. Her reached out his ghost white hands. He caught Thor's matted bearded chin between his thick black nails. He dug his nails deep into Thor's skin and held his chin in place to keep him from shaking his head. "Look at me," he declared.

Thor's blackened eyes squinted and strained to look up the Dark-Elf. He let out a ragged breath. "Some-one...will stop you..." Thor reiterated. His eyes watered and blood still trickled down his nose and smeared down in his mustache and mud-caked beard. His head lulled to the side. Consciousness slowly started to slip from him. He rallied himself as best as he could. "But...someone...someone...will...someone..." Thor stopped mid-sentence breathless. "Someone...always will" he stated as he made sure to face Malekith. He started shuddering and shaking.

Malekith growled barbarically, "NO! That is where you are wrong! No one is coming to rescue you Prince Thor or your kingdom! For years and year I dreamed of nothing, but this! 2000 years ago I watched my kingdom destroyed. Our empire was in her glory and you...Asgardian...you took it away from me" Malekith accused as he raised his fist.

Thor shook his head. He was hardly able to hold it up. He fought to stay awake. "Y-y-y-your k-k-kingdom...w-w-was built-t-t...on the backs of and bones of others," Thor pointed out. "Y-y-you stole the light from others, so...so...so that you could flourish in the Darkness!" Thor spat.

The leader of the Dark-Elves continued to wear a sickeningly smug grin across his bloodless lips. "Yes, of course," he muttered. He recalled so many kingdoms among the Light-Elves that he snuffed out. He blotted their suns and stole their fire, they couldn't grow crops and they could get warmth and then they begged for their lives and Malekith gave them just enough light to survive if they'd be slaves to the Dark-Elves. Those had been glorious times. "DARKNESS IS THE NATURAL STATE OF UNIVERSE!" he declared. His men stomped their feet echoing their agreement. "WE ARE THE FIRST PEOPLE!" he bellowed. "WE HAVE A RIGHT TO SUPREMACY!" he barked out his doctrine and rhetoric. Thor wasn't sure that Malekith's beliefs were completely true. It didn't matter Malekith believed the ridiculous notion and it had fueled his crazy crusade in the past and it was what was driving him now. "I saw our cities ransacked by Aesir forces. I watched as my people perished. Ships like bombs dropped on our towns and villages...everyone destroyed..." Malekith turned away from Prince Thor for a moment, he looked at his soldiers. "Remember. Remember," he urged them. He too remembered. He remembered the explosions and he remembered looking on the piece of debris that fell onto his family estate. He thought of his wife and his children.

"Th-th-that...that was your doing," The son of Odin uttered.

"Aesir dog!" Malekith spat. He threw his hand back ready to slap the prince once more. He watched as Prince Thor flinched and that was enough for him. "You weren't there!" he reminded him harshly. "But yes, I did." Malekith stated with pride. A few of the helmets of the soldiers swung as they heard Malekith decree. They stared at him. Thor thought he heard some gasps thought he heard some rumbling, but maybe it was just his own ragged breath and his own rumbling stomach. "I do it again, if I knew it would lead to this day," he swore. "In my slumber I was sent many visions of the day when I would stand over Odin with my sword and execute him. But instead it is you," he mocked. "I must admit Prince Thor that you are not nearly as impressive as he," he chuckled. His bloodless hand reached out and he grabbed Thor by the throat. He squeezed hard around the prince's neck and Thor who was already struggling to breath from the damage that had been done to his lungs could scarcely squeeze out a puff of air. "He was a king," the leader of the Dark-Elves stated. "A warrior," he went on. "Look at you!" Malekith sneered as he gestured at the bloody captive. "You're none of those things. Not even close," he clicked his tongue and turned away from facing the son of the Odin who resembled a piece of minced meat. "You're pathetic and weak and most of all...so incredibly stupid," the Dark-elf went on. Malekith tossed his head back and laughed. His laugh was like nails scraping against a flint stone to be sharpened. Thor's head slumped against his chest. "You did this to yourself!" Malekith teased and taunted all the while still laughing. "All that you know and love Prince Thor is going to come to an end and it will be because of you. Because you were too much of a fool to see," Malekith shook his head.

Tears mingled with blood dripped from Prince Thor's puffed and blackened eyes. His head bobbed as new sobs welled up from deep within side his sole. His voice was short and ragged with emotion. His lips quivered as he sucked in a breath to say, "I know...I know," he mumbled.

Malekith heard his faint whisper, "Come again?" he cupped his hand to his ear.

"I know!" the prince shouted. "I'll have to live with that," his voice dropped.

"Not for long," Malekith mouthed to his men with a plastered grin. "I would love to kill you myself!" Malekith raged, "But there is something simply so delicious about the way you are to be executed. "By the hand of your own brother. Who you gave up the very powers of lightning and thunder for. Honestly, you Aesir care far too much about family," Malekith flicked his hands like they were dirty.

"Loki," Thor rumbled the traitor's name.

"Your brother wants you all cleaned up for your pressing engagement," the general reminded him.

Thor's face was streaked red and blood streamed from his eyes, nose and even his forehead. He started coughing, his lungs filling with liquid. "He's not my brother," the bloodied blonde muttered. "he never was," Thor admitted.

Maybe Malekith heard him, maybe he didn't. If he did hear him, he wasn't sure the general truly cared. Why would he? Why would Malekith care? feel pity for him for him. He was a heartless, bloodless imp. It was obvious that family meant nothing to the bloodless elf. Malekith openly admitted he had killed his own family. He sacrificed his people and most of his military to lay waste to Asgard's army. He preserved only his best soldiers on his command ship. He allowed his wife and children, brothers and sisters and maybe even his own parents to be massacred just so that Bor wouldn't have the honor of taking victory from him. Malekith cared nothing for family. But for Thor, it meant everything. He carried the name of Odin with pride, not simply because it was the name of the royal house the name that gave him power and sovereignty over Asgard and the Nine Realms, but because it was the name of a man who was brave and strong and wise. His father was not perfect but he was the best king he could be, the best man he could be and the best father and husband he could be he had taught him everything he'd ever known about life and about leadership. It pained him unimaginably to think that he had failed him this day. To think that this time his father truly was dead because of him. To think that his father had to cross into the gates of Valhalla with such a broken heart.

He was supposed to be the future king. The future all-father. The ruler and protector of Asgard, the defender of the Nine Realms. So, all of Asgard was his family. They were his people to protect and lead and teach and provide for, just like any good father would, but he hadn't done that. He never deserved the title all-father.

Being king implied being a father, And brotherhood, well that had meant even more to him than maybe fatherhood. Fatherhood he supposed meant always being on top, always having to be strong, always having to be right, always knowing what to do. Admittedly, that was scary because so many times in Thor's life he had no clue what to do. Brotherhood meant equality, companionship, a shoulder to lean on, it meant having someone to watch your back, a hand to help. It meant someone to make you laugh when you were the most down...it meant everything. But in the end, it had just meant someone who knew his moves and weaknesses and exploited him. Now, all suffered because of the value of brotherhood.

He thought of he and Loki playing with their toys as lads. Pretending to be the heroes and warriors of old. Always choosing to play two brothers who'd fight to the death for each other. One of their favorites was from a holo-theater program that they both enjoyed. Their nursemaid, Helga, she didn't much care for the young heirs to the throne spending too much time watching holo-theater. She preferred to take them into town and let them see the live performers, at least that had some cultural benefit, she insisted. Still, there was a program that even stodgy old Helga seemed to tolerate the two of them watching. The Brother's Cabesh. Maybe it was because it was based off of an old epic and one of Asgard's premiere opera's. . But Helga always insisted before they tuned in that she read from the epic herself. Loki would always get excited to read from one of the ancient tomes. He couldn't stand the old dusty volumes. What was really hilarious was when Helga would try to sing one of the ballads from the opera. Helga had the most interesting voice...Perhaps it had been a good voice back in her day, as she had claimed, but her voice when she would sing to them was like a croaking toad. But perhaps that had been their doing since she always had to yell at them.

The holo-theater program was popular with many youngsters throughout Asgard and one particular bright and sunny, summer afternoon, they had had their friends over to play. He couldn't exactly recall why. Maybe Mother had invited their mother's to tea or maybe Father was holding war council and their fathers had brought them along. Whatever the reason they had decided to pretend to be their favorite characters from the program.

"I'm Elius!" Thor proclaimed as a youth. They were in the courtyard, playing under one of the fresh blooming trees. He brandished one of the fallen branches and raised it up as a sword just like the hero in his favorite holo-theater show.

"And I am Aile" Loki called out as he rushed to Thor's side. He stood proud and tall. They stood back to back in a triumphant pose.

"And we are the Brothers Cabesh" the bellowed in unison.

"Ha!" a young Sif laughed at them. She was wearing a robe of her mother's to play the evil sorceress, Morgana. She had it draped around her like a fine gown and it was a rare sight to see the tough little Viking girl in a dress. "You two are not strong enough to defeat me!" She pointed at them and tossed her back and laughed. "You have both tried and you have both failed!" she reported.

"That is because we were alone before," Prince Thor called out.

"But now we have each other and you are no match for me and my brother," Loki replied as he kept his back pressed against Thor's and his arms were crossed in a defiant stance. His larger green eyes stared up at Thor adoringly. He was so excited that he and Thor were getting to play on the same side. They always played games like this in private, but when their friends came around, somehow he usually was cast as the villain or on the losing side at best. Good thing he had suggested this story.

"I have earth!" Thor proclaimed as he flexed a non-existent muscle at the time. He then signaled for Volstagg. The plump, red-head child lumbered forth carrying a large bucket of dirty. He was covered in the mud from head to toe. He panted as he dropped the pail by Thor's feet.

"And I have fire!" Loki declared excitedly as he ignited a small flame in his palm.

Sif's brown eyes went wide. Volstagg swung his head and gulped as he looked in Loki's direction. "Loki you miserable cheat!" She snapped breaking character. "No magic!"

"All fairytales have magic, Sif," he retorted.

"I don't care!" the young Viking girl retorted. "I'm not going to have you throwing fireballs at me," she protested and folded her arms across her chest.

"You won't get hurt, I can control it," he stated confidently.

"Yeah right you can control it! You roasted my buns last time!" interjected Volstagg. The plump boy stood up and looked at Loki and rubbed his rear as he remembered the flames burning his rump.

"Ok, first of all Volstagg, you were too close to me...and second of all I've been practicing," Loki assured his friends.

"No way!" Sif shot back once more

"Come on! Come on, you guys" Thor finally stated. He was exhausted with all the arguing. He blew an exasperated breath out the side of his mouth. His full, pink lips performed a dramatic raspberry as he did. "You're taking up all our time," the young prince whine. "You know any minute, Algrim or Helga will call us all back in for lessons," he gestured his head over toward he and Loki's nursemaid. The elderly Lady had fallen asleep on one of the near by benches, but it would just be a matter of time before she awakened and if she didn't Lord Algrim always had a bit of tutoring for them in addition to their regular school work. "Loki will be careful, won't you brother,"

"Of course," he said as he flashed a slick looking smile and then winked.

"See, he says he can control it," Thor confirmed with an easy shrug as he looked at his young brother.

Loki's young emerald eyes batted rapidly, his mouth hung open. He practically gawked. He couldn't believe Thor was taking up for him in front of their friends, that hardly ever happened. Honestly, the younger child was just happy to be allowed to join in the game. He was still too young for formal schooling, but Mother and Helga and Lord Algrim took to overseeing much of his study for he was a fast learner. He suspected he and Thor were both learning the same material. While Thor spent most of his day at school with young nobles and other royals even from distant kingdoms, Loki spent most of his time studying by himself in the palace. In some senses he liked having attention all to himself. Thor cast a large shadow, he was loud and boisterous, handsome, favored, but during his private tutoring even Helga was a little kinder to him, a little more tender and indulgent than when he and Thor were together, admittedly they were terrors with their pranks, that were mostly his idea. Algrim often praised him for his quick ability to catch on to even some of the harder concepts and of course being alone with Mother was simply wonderful. The two of them always had fun together, telling tales and whispering secrets. Mother was less strict in her lessons than Algrim and Helga, she wasn't above injecting the studies with silly songs and games or stories, but mostly he loved when mother would teach him more than just grammar and spelling and mathematics. He loved when she would take time to show him of her arts. But still even though he enjoyed the alone time with his favorite adults, he did want other children to play with. He looked forward to his brother coming home and he looked forward to their friends...well kinda...they could be rather annoying and they were just as loud and rowdy as Thor, none of them seemed to really understand the glory of a good book or the sweet satisfaction that could come from solving a 2000 piece jigsaw puzzle. More so than that, he wasn't always sure if they were really his friends or just Thor's, Thor would say he couldn't see the difference, but there was a difference. But all those things he could tolerate for a little while, what was usually the most irritating thing about the presence of the others was sometimes Thor was different around them.

"Like spit he can!" shouted out Frandal. He was standing right by Loki's side.

Loki's features pinched. "I can too! Just watch and you'll see," the thin dark-haired prince protested.

"Alright fine!" Sif called out from the makeshift pedestal of rocks that she had made for herself. Hogun was standing silently behind her. She stomped away from him and down off of the mound and over to Prince Loki. "Fine", the brunette girl grumbled as she looked at the older son of Odin. He was growing impatient and patting his foot. She gripped Loki by the collar. They were roughly the same age, but the young woman stood a few inches tall that the boy. She tried her best to hoist him off of the ground, like she'd seen her older brother, Lief, a notorious bully do. She didn't quite manage, but she did manage to pull him so that he was standing on his tip toes. Loki wiggled and pushed and twisted and tried to escape her grip, but he couldn't quite break free. "But if you so much as singe my tunics, I'll before sure to blacken your eyes and give you double for your trouble," she threatened. Loki continued to struggle, but finally Sif let go after she received a commanding look from Prince Thor. She gave the raven-haired child a rough little shove. Thor caught his younger brother and held him up from falling flat on his back after Sif's forceful push. Thor let out a hearty laugh and the young noblewoman's antics. Loki growled and seethed. His pale face turned bright red and his little arms and fist swung viciously in the air as he tried to attack Sif while she walked away. Sif walked away grumbling.

Thor gently patted Loki's shoulder. The paler child was all flustered and red. "Calm down, Loki and let's just finish the game, ok?" he insisted.

"Fine," Loki said through poked out lips. He wiped his brow and wiped under his nose. "Ready?" he called out to the rest of their playmates.

"READY!" the other children screamed out in joyous unison.

The two young princes ran back to their dramatic poses. The same poses the same poses that their two favorite characters from their favorite day time holo-play. Thor had his hand raised triumphantly in a mighty fist straight up in the air and Loki was standing in a karate like pose. The blonde-haired prince turned to his brother with a wink and a smile. "I have the power of earth!" the oldest son of Odin stated once more.

"And I have the power of fire!" young Loki proclaimed.

Young Sif tossed her head back, "Silly boys!" the Viking girl taunted as she pointed at the two princes. "That's nothing!" she flagged them off. "For I have the power of water!" she declared. She turned her head and looked back. Behind her there was Hogun. He had a wheel barrel full of water balloons. The quiet boy had a certain, playful glint in his eye. The day was young and the sun was high and it was hot out. It would be great fun to get wet. His aunts were always trying to keep him so neat and tidy. It was such a bother. He knew that he should be grateful to them. They'd taken him in when he had nothing, just a worthless little orphan. He loved them. They were good to him, but sometimes he missed days at the orphanage when he only had to take a bath once a month and look presentable only if they had parents coming to orphanage to visit. "Water puts out fire," she explained as she looked at Loki with critical little brown eyes. "And it washes away earth and rock," she informed Prince Thor and she may have even batted her somewhat stubby eyelashes. "You are doomed!" she bellowed as she pointed finger at them.

Thor and Loki turned to each other slightly. They kept their backs pressed against one another's. They had their arms folded and they nodded slowly at each other before they chimed out in harmony. "We shall see,"

The young daughter of nobles curled her lips, "Enough of this." she said as she yawned. "ATTACK!" she screamed out. With that she and Hogun reached for the water balloons and immediately began chucking them across the courtyard at the princes. Thor yelled out attack as well and he and Frandal and Volstagg started picking up big heaps of mud and rolling them into big mud balls. The three boys immediately began slinging the mud in the direction of the Sif and Hogun. Water balloons and large clods of dirt flew through the air and break neck speeds. They crisscrossed pass each other in a brilliant display.

Thor's heart filled with glee as his launched his attack and used his makeshift weapons. At not even 300 years of age it was just like a real battle to him. "More mud! More mud!" she called to his friends. He waved them forward as they pressed deeper and deeper into the thick of the fight. Water balloons were raining down like bombs over their heads. Narrowly just missing the mudslinging prince. Here and there Volstagg or Frandal would get hit with a water balloon on top of the head or right in the kisser and the two boys would bust out laughing.

They also fired back by picking up the balloons that hadn't popped. The ones that were just lying on the lawn and firing them back at Sif and Hogun. Sif relished in getting hit with a balloon on the warm summer day. They also continued running and throwing their mud balls. Hogun practically ran face first into the onslaught of dirt balls that were sailing toward him. He basked as one hit him right in the center of his chest. He had on a dark blue little tunic. It was nice and pressed and the perfect type of wear that the type of child who associated with royalty should wear." "Yes!" he cried out excitedly as the mud smashed against his clothes. He then fell back and collapsed in a mound of grass and started to roll about. He loved the feel of making grass stains on his trousers.

Sif was laughing as she watched the quiet child roll about. Hogun didn't say much, but his actions always kept up with the rest of theirs even if his mouth didn't. "Hogun! Hogun! Hogun, come on and get up," she called to him as she watched him roll about. She had two balloons in her hand that she was ready to laugh. One for each of the young sons of Odin. "Come on get up! I need your help" she called as she playfully kicked him in the side while he rolled about. Hogun appeared to be so enthralled with rubbing dirt all over himself that he didn't hear her words. Sif shrugged and sat her attention back to her targets. She looked over at Loki. The youngest son of Odin was feverishly trying to light a palm in his hand. He was hardly joining in the game at all. He was just standing to the side, muttering to himself, snapping his pale little fingers trying to get a flame to ignite. Her brow furrowed and knit together as she gazed at him. She snorted out her nose. There was no way she was going to get by Loki. She watched an ecstatic grin take hold of the young, raven-haired boy's face as a bright orange fire glowed in his hand. . He started squealing, rushing about excitedly and running to the other boys to show them his flame.

"That;s great Loki," Thor stated as he patted his younger brother on the shoulder. "Now, use it!" he ordered like any good commander would.

"Don't burn Sif!" Volstagg warned him.

"Or she'll definitely been you!" Frandal giggled between his fingers.

Loki's eyebrows knit together. He scrunched up his face. "I won't, you'll see," he shot back and the flame burned even brighter. He was just about to shoot off one little spark. One tiny little spark. Nothing that would be harmful. But just as he was about to launch his first move of attack., Sif's water balloon sailed right to Loki. It burst right on top of his head and extinguished his small flame. Sif jumped up and down in victory for putting out the tiny fire. Loki stood, hands out stretched, mouth dangling open, stunned.

"Haha!" Sif laughed. "Aile Cabesh has fallen!" she pointed out. "And now so will the other" she turned her attention to the blonde-haired brother.

Thor turned around only to see Loki dripping wet. His black mane sopping and water running down his nose and chin. "NOOOO! Brother!" the young thunderer bellowed. He stretched forth his hands reach toward Loki who was now sinking to the ground on his knees with the agony of defeat. He sure hoped that Loki didn't start crying. Loki didn't like to be wet or dirty. He was still so young and mother told him that they shouldn't play so rough with Loki, he and Sif were to the youngest of their group of playmates, but Sif was rougher and tougher than some teenagers. "Don't worry, brother...I will stop her!" Thor insisted and he pressed onward. Hogun had finally stopped his wondrous wallowing in the mud and joined Sif in raining down water balloons on their friends. "Onward men!" he pressed Volstagg and Frandal. The pair followed behind just as eager as ever. They rushed and ran and hooted and threw mud. "I'll get you witch!" Thor continued. "No one harms my brother!" he swore. "And get's away with it!" the young prince warned. "Ammo," he called over his shoulder and he was immediately provided with Volstagg with a perfectly rounded mud-pie. The plumper child had taken the post on the battle field of forming the weapons. Thor wrapped his hands around it and let it fly. The great, heaping, oozing mud-ball was perfectly pitched and landed smack-dab in Sif's face.

Frandal saw it hit his female friend and broke into hysterics. He could no longer even continue to engage in the battle. He ran up to Prince Thor and slapped him on the back and gave him a high-five before he fell on the ground with heart guffaws rippling from his belly. The boy was rolling about like a dog with his legs kicking in the air. "Here's mud in your eye, Sif" he teased.

Thor looked back at his friend and gave a smile then winked. The young boy squared his shoulders and pulled up his trousers. "Come on, my friend, the game isn't quite over yet," he said. He knew that Sif wouldn't surrender easily. He looked back at the young noblewoman and he saw her wipe the mud from her face. She slung it to the ground. Her face was bright red and she let out a somewhat feral growl. He and Frandal exchanged worried glances. "Uh-oh" both boys mouthed simultaneously at each other. Their cocky grins immediately scampered from their faces.

"UGH!" she screamed. "Look at my tunic!" she pointed out. "My mother is going to kill me!" she went on. Now her mother always wanted her to wear dresses. But Sif couldn't stand dresses. So her and her mother had an agreement. her mother brought her many fine, tunics and she was allowed to wear them, but she was expected to behave like a lady while in the garments at all time. Of course Sif's mother wasn't with her at all times and she made a point not to tell her mother what she did all the time and as long as she didn't come home with her tunics and tights ripped to shreds she could usually get one of the servants to patch up most of the holes before her mother noticed, but today her parents were here at the palace. "And I'm gonna kill you!" he ranted and started pounded her fist into her palm.

She took the back of her hand and rubbed the mud away from her eyes once more. She then returned to her role of playing the powerful Morgana. "Don't worry," the brunette girl teased. "You'll join him soon." Sif looked at the other balloon in her hand. She bounced it up and down and felt its weight. It was a perfect sized water balloon. Perfect to get Prince Thor. Sif threw a water balloon right at Prince Thor. Thor had dodged about a million of the water balloons that his friends were throwing at him, but this one caught his eye and it glistened in the sun and made its way toward him. Thor nearly gulped Lady Sif had a mean right arm throw. She was quite a good discus thrower in gym class he had to admit. She was leader of the girl's team and quite frankly she was already trying out to play with the boys. Sif had hit him before. One time he said something about girls not playing something and she slugged him right in the eye. Thor watched the incoming assault by the young maiden. She had a dangerous focused look in her eyes. A look that Thor knew well and when Sif got that look in her eye when she got that focused well...she was like a hawk with a rabbit in its sights...there was no escaping her. The balloon was released from her hand. It was a bright purple colored balloon and it sailed through the sky with a perfect trajectory. It was aimed right for him and there was no way she was going to miss.

Thor braced himself for the hit. Sif not only had launched her own balloon, but she had Hogun toss two more behind it. He was going to be pelted. "Elius, watch out!" Loki called, staying completely in character. He rushed up behind Thor and pushed him out of the way. Thor fell to the ground.

The golden-locked son of Odin shook his head. He grabbed his forehead, "Hey Loki, what'd you do that for...?" he started to ask his voice trailing off as he watched his younger brother take on the beastly brunt of about six water balloons. Thor was stunned. The water balloons should have drenched Loki, but amazingly enough Loki cocooned himself in a fiery force-field. The balloons immediately evaporated when they came in contact with the flames.

Thor gawked. Frandal and Volstagg stared wide-eyed with disbelief. Hogun, ever quiet rubbed his eyes and batted them about seven times. Sif's mouth dangled open. The flames died down slowly. They seemed to melt back into Loki's body. His clothes weren't even burned. Loki looked down at little hands, they were trembling with excitement, a smile broad as day was stretched eagerly across his thin lipped face. His whole body started shaking.

"No! No! NO!" Sif started to scream and she stomped her foot she was fuming. Oh, Sif hated to lose. And losing to Loki, who cared that he was a prince of Asgard, he was a whiny little know it all as far as she was concerned. "No! No! No!" she continued protesting. "Come on! Come on! Come on, guys, that is clearly cheating!" she pointed out to the group of friends.

The boys all began laughing, chanting and clapping over what Loki did. Thor stood up and dusted off his trousers. He also wore a golden smile, He jumped up and down before he went dashing to his younger brother's side. He clapped his hands on his brother's back, he wrapped his arms around his neck and he laughed loudly in his ear. "Oh gosh, Loki that was great! GAME OVER, SIF!" Thor yelled out. "Ha!" he continued to bellow.

Thor's team, Frandal and Volstagg hooted and cheered. They ran up to Loki and congratulated him. "Oh my goodness! Loki how'd you do that?"asked Frandal.

"I didn't even think you could do that?" Volstagg added. Loki looked around at his friends. He was all a glow and blushing as they clapped him on the back and ruffled his raven mop of hair. He shook his head. "That was unbelievable!" he cried out.

"I can't believe I did that," Loki muttered to himself.

"And I can't believe you guys are just allowing him to get away with that completely illegal move," Lady Sif protested as she stepped down off of the mound. "Come on, guy we were just supposed to be pretending. All of us were just using dirt and water balloons and then Loki just burst into flames." young Lady Sif kept walking behind the boys arguing that the game was still a foot and that she could still win and that Loki had cheated big time. Normally, all her friends agreed that Loki using his little beginner tricks definitely constituted as cheating, but today they just seemed to be going a long with it. It burned her up. "C'mon, Hogun! Hogun! You argree with me don't you?" she asked of him as she touched him on the shoulder.

Hogun looked Sif up and down his expression practically blank. He looked her up and down and the shook his head toward her and then gave a thumbs up toward the youngest prince. "That was awesome!" he exclaimed pumping his fist in the air. Then his face immediately fell back into a stone faced expression as he followed behind the group in the distance the heard Helga calling them all in for lunch. Volstagg immediately bounded toward the sound of the nursemaid's call and the rest of the children followed suit.

Thor and Loki lagged behind the other just a bit, "Brother, how'd you learn to do that?" Thor asked. His blue eyes still wide with excitement.

"I...I...I've been practicing," he replied he beamed up at his older brother, they were only a century apart, but Thor towered over him.

"Yeah, I can see that," Thor joked, "But how...how'd you get that good?" he marveled.

"I saw...I saw it on the holo-program and...and I don't know...I just practiced," Loki shrugged.

"Yeah, but Loki that was like something that a real wizard would use in battle," Thor expressed.

"So, you admit, that magic can be used in battle?" Loki inquired eagerly and he raised his inky brows.

"No, no, no now I didn't say all that," the blonde-haired son of Odin back pedaled his words.

"You just said it!" Loki challenged and he pointed a finger at his brother's nose. He bit his lip and his body was shaking so fiercely that Thor thought he might explode.

"Alright, alright," Thor blew and exasperated breath out of his mouth. "Alright fine, maybe...sometimes...I guess...I don't know, don't tell the other's, " he whispered.

"Hmph," Loki snorted and wore a smug little grin as she folded his arms across his chest.

"Still, I mean...it was pretty good what you did...but why'd you do all that just for a pretend battle?"

"I didn't think it would be that big...or that good...I don't know...I have to practice for real battles just like you," the younger child pointed out as they trotted toward the palace.

"Yeah, I guess," Thor shrugged accepting the answer.

"When we do actually go out and have battles and adventures Thor..." Loki paused a little winded from trying to keep up with the older child's long strides. "I'd defend you just like that" Loki told him.
Thor wrapped his hand around Loki's neck, in the familiar gesture amongst Asgardians, "Me too Loki, me too. Thanks for saving me, Little brother,"

"Any time, big brother!" Loki winked. His thin lips formed a shy, little grin. Thor couldn't help it, but ruffle the younger child's hair and wrapping one last affection hand around Loki's slim neck. "Come on, last one to lunch is a hobgoblin," he teased as his long legs sprinted off with the sound of Loki's laugh echoing behind him.

But that was a very long time ago. They were so young. Just children not even really youths. Still learning how the world worked. War was child's play to child's play to them and promises, what had promises meant to children. They were just boys playing pretend. Maybe that's all their brotherhood had ever been, just one long game of make-believe. And he had just been too foolish to stop playing...stop pretending...up until those few days ago he'd still been playing that same game from so long ago where his brother was his hero. But he had no brother and if he ever had one, he was no hero.

He thought of the day of his coronation. The day when the Frost Giants had come and taken away his day of pomp and ceremony that he had been so looking forward to. He'd thought of nothing but that day for months, maybe years. He had everything perfectly planned. The feasting would have lasted for days. He had the stadiums full so all the people of Asgard could see him be crowned. There were going to be games and dances and tournaments and fireworks and drinking oh there was going to be so much drinking. The streets were going flow with mead and grog and wine and it was going to be fabulous. And then the Frost Giants. He was furious, livid at their interruption had caused to his big moment.

He was angry with his father for actually stopping the ceremony to deal with the brutes, but then in the moment he got this wonderful, glorious idea, that maybe this was a blessing in disguise, now all the people would have the chance to see him fight the Frost Giants right then and there. They'd see what a worthy king he would be. What a proud successor he'd be for Odin. When they went to the weapon's vault though the Destroyer had already made quick work of vanquishing their enemies. He was left with nothing. He couldn't have that and he foolishly argued against his father's wise counsel to let the matter lie. He fumed and stormed out the chamber and into he grand banquet hall flipping over all the tables that his mother had been commissioned be furnished just so for the grand occasion. He could scarcely remember Loki slinking his way into the banquet hall and whispering beguiling silver tongued words in his ear. Loki didn't exactly tell him he should go and get revenge, but he certainly encouraged the notion that it was a right idea. He was good. He was a master manipulator, always had been.

"My friends, we're going to Jotunheim!" He proclaimed as he leaped up from the step.

"It is forbidden!" Sif shouted.

"This isn't Earth, where you go and summon a little lightning and thunder and the mortals worship you as a god, this is Jotunheim," Frandal reminded him.

His friends each came convincing arguments, but he had l learned a thing or two from his silver tongued brother. Eventually, he changed there minds. For they were like him, they were arrogant and sought adventure and glory. No one had done such feat in all of Asgard in centuries. They'd all be great heroes. They'd have statues built to honor them, song would be sung of this great day and they'd feast in every palace in the Nine Realm's. They were all immediately about the thought of another conquest, itching and raring to go. The golden prince looked at each one of his companions, pleased as punch that they have chosen to join in his quest, but then he looked over at his brother. Loki looked pensive. He was holding his head in his hands. He was rubbing his porcelain fingers through his ebony hair, his leg slightly jittered. He started muttering something to himself.

For a moment all the soon-to-be king's bravado faded. It drained from his like air being let out a balloon. He blinked, shook his head then cocked it to the side. His booming baritone voice came out almost a whisper, "You're not coming?" he asked and his voice was almost timid. There were times especially more often recently, when Loki didn't always accompany he and his friends on their quests. It worried Thor when that happened.

Still, what had just seemed like a brilliant idea no longer seemed so bright. His bright blue eyes looked down. Maybe this was a mistake. He had thought that that's what he and Loki had agreed he should do, but maybe not. In his recent months doing his preparation for king he had to make so many decisions. Some matters were small, some matters were large, but the decisions were left up to him mostly. He wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, but he needed a lot of reassurance about his decisions. Sometimes it was the applause of the crowd of delegates or members of council, sometimes it came from a pat on the back from the warriors that he was leading, an approving nod from father or a gentle smile from his mother, but often...more often than not it came from Loki. Loki wasn't always there, but when he'd share with Loki later in the day and Loki would give his agreement or make a suggestion it just felt better just felt like he was doing the right thing. Father had told him that together he and Loki had the collective wisdom to lead their people into the next era. He was pleased that he'd chosen Loki as his chief advisor and Thor was glad of it too. He was about to second guess himself to call the whole thing off.

Then Loki looked up at him, somewhat shocked. "Yes, of course," he said smoothly. The crown prince was a happy puppy wagging his tail now that his best friend was there by his side. Seeing Thor's excitement. Loki stood up at his brother's side. "I won't let my brother march into the Jotunheim alone," he declared and they wrapped their arms around each other.

"Hahah!" Thor tossed his head back and laughed, "that's spirit. With all of us together we'll be back by dinner time," he declared "My friends, we're going to Jotunheim"

That was brotherhood meant to him to ride together no matter what even if one was leading them into horrible, suicidal danger. He hadn't known of Loki's duplicity then. He'd just seen the person he'd trusted most in life and believed ever silver tongued lie that his mouth could craft. Even still, when Loki went with him the last time he'd trusted him. He'd said he didn't, said he wouldn't, but he had. And just like then that silly boyish trust had betrayed him and led to innocent people being hurt. First the Jotuns, their king killed, their home world destroyed and now Asgard followed suit. He chided himself. He hated himself for falling for the same trick twice. He hated Loki for what he'd done. He hated himself for believing in silly notions like brotherhood.

Thor's thoughts were interrupted. He felt Lord Malekith's boot kick against his sore back. He screamed out and tumbled face down into the muck. Malekith dug his boot deeper into Thor's back. He forced him deeper into the mud and Thor gagged as the brown dirt pushed its way into his mouth. "Get him out of here! Dawn swiftly approaches!" Malekith barked at his men. "And I've waited long enough!" The leader of the army of Svartalfheim decreed as he pushed pass his guards and stomped a head of them

His horde roughly dragged Prince Thor out of the dark, dingy cell. They manhandled him and gripped him up tightly. He had wounds all over that they cared nothing didn't bother to loosen his binds or even unshackle him. They didn't even permit him the dignity of rising to his own two feet and walking out. He doubted that he truly would have been able walk. One of his legs had been dislocated. During the terrible scourge that the soldiers had performed on him, but the broke one of kneecaps. It had swollen to about the size of a small watermelon, the kind that was just still ripening. Still, he wasn't permitted to even to try. They dragged him out. His busted knee and broken leg scraping against the dislodged stones and allowing the cuts to be caked with mud. His toes dug into the dirt as he tried to keep himself from being carted away as a slave, but was no use. He gave some push back. He tried to wriggle his broad, but battered shoulders. He tried to pull away, but it was no use. The soldiers were too strong or he was too weak. Either way his efforts proved futile, He shook his head and tried to knock against their arms. He was doing everything he could to try and knock them off their square, to keep them from their terrible march which led him to the gallows and led Asgard ever closer to her doom. They walloped him on the head a few good times just for sport. The Dark-Elves took delight in smacking the helpless son of Odin about.

The Dark-Elves dragged him up the dungeon's steps. They weren't mindful of him in the least. They made sure to have his feet bang against each and every rough step as they went up the stairs. Some had nails and jagged pieces sticking out and they were all too happy to make sure his foot scraped against the rough spots and make more blood gush from his body. Thor grit his teeth and tears welled in his eyes as new injuries occurred. His foot and leg were completely bloody by the time he reached the top of the steps. They then proceeded to take him to a small out-cove where the palace guards who were on dungeons duty normally had their quarters. The quarters were tight, but like everything in the palace they were well furnished and still rather opulent with some room for the guards to decorate as they pleased. When he got there they simply threw him down on the ground like a sack of potatoes. He let out a cry when he hit the ground, the pain of his broken ribs was exacerbated. He gasped and tried to keep from crying in front of the fiends. He noticed that his cheek was pressed against the plush rug. He tried to scoot closer it and let his weary head rest on something soft for what could have been the last time.

Malekith's warriors saw his pathetic attempts and they took to antagonizing him further. He was bound and crawling like a slug across the floor trying to bury more of his body against the carpet. They yanked the carpet out from under him. He flipped on his back like a pancake as screamed as a nail pressed firmly into his back. The jeered. They gathered all around him and they laughed him to scorn. They pointed and shouted and chanted in their guttural tongue and they were a blur of white faces and soulless, black pit eyes. They whizzed by and they made Prince Thor feel woozy. His stomach was starting to ache and just as the inward pain of aching stomach reached its peek one of the Dark-Elf soldiers had their boot stomp on the prince's abdomen. Thor vomited thick green bile into the soldier's bloodless face.

The soldier screamed out. He cursed and swore in the language of Svartalfhiem. He flung the vomit off of himself as quickly as he could, but the slimy green residue still lingered. He ran into the room with the refresher and desperate to cleanse himself from the bile, he plunged his head into the toilet.

The other soldiers sought to avenge their comrade by accosting Prince Thor once more. "Stop!" the commander of the soldiers called out seeing that the soldiers were picking Prince Thor up and seemed ready to rough him up even more. Thor's ears were tickled as he noticed that the sound of the voice was almost feminine. "We've had a are fun, we've had are sport. His head is about to roll anyway, We must get him to the chopping block precisely at dawn and time is rolling on. Come on. Come on!" the commanded clapped their hands. "Get him ready!"

"Ah, yes," another guard added. He greedily rubbed his palms together.

"Cut off his hair!" another called out.

Thor's eyes went wide at the thought of getting his golden locks. "Nonono!" the crown prince of Asgard mumbled, "you...you...can't...you...can't" he protested as he tried to crawl away from their feet and legs that surrounded him like trees in the Dark-Forest. He dragged his body, simply pulling his dead weight on his elbows. He was doing his best, but without much effort for one of the soldiers to catch him, but his matted, golden mop. They picked him and practically dragged him by his hair and tossed him into a small wooden chair. "No! Don't! Don't!" Thor cried out desperately. His big arms flailing about in the air. He watched as one of the Dark-Elves drew a crude dagger from the hilt of his belt. It had jagged ridges to it. He swollen eyes dilated as he watched the blade come closer to his locks. In Asgard long-hair was sign of wealth pride and beauty for both men and women. To be shaven was a disgrace. Finally, Thor mustered up the strength to push the elves off of him. His arms were weakened, but they still had enough strength to send the Dark-Elf soldiers flying into the wall. He tried to pop out the chair and make a break for it, but unfortunately his legs buckled immediately, sending him crashing back into the floor. It wasn't long before the Dark-Elves pressed upon him again. About 5 soldiers ganged up on Prince Thor and roughly grabbed him and pulled him back into the wooden chair despite his valiant efforts to escape them. They held him fast, shoulders arms and feet as the jagged edges dagger drew closer. The soldier yanked his head back and pulled his long, blonde hair tight and then chopped it off.

The muddy tresses fell from his shoulders and into his lap and onto the floor. The tumbled from his head and onto the floor like lumber. Each lock a log hitting the floor. The Malekith's warriors pointed and laughed at him in his new hairless state. Thor's eyes were blackened, he could barely see the freshly sheered tresses that we lying in his lap in muddy clumps. He shook his head as he reached a trembling hand up and felt his head in a fresh buzz cut, he felt shame roll over him. He'd never had his hair cut in such a disgraceful manner. Hair cutting was something that Asgardians did to criminals.

"Strip him!" the commander ordered. They didn't even give Thor time to mourn his hair loss.

"Nononon," Thor was barely able to protest. His body shook as a new sense of helplessness washed over him at the feeling of being so humiliated. He hardly had on any clothing at all as it was. His royal vestments were scarcely rags and loin cloths now, but even that little dignity that robbed his of. The ripped of his tattered robes and exposed his bruised, broken body. This was the only time Thor could recall ever being ashamed of his physique.

A tall Dark-Elf soldier dangled and waved the loin cloth that had been covering the prince in front of his face tauntingly. Then he pinched his nose. "UGH! He stinks," he expressed in words that Thor didn't know. "Asgardian filth," he spat so that Thor could understand. "Come on! Come on! Fetch me some water, let's clean this pig up!"

One other elfin soldier quickly ran to the refresh with a bucket. He was gone for just a few minutes, but it seemed like an eternity as Prince Thor stood before the soldiers naked as a babe and dirty as a pig. The Dark-Elves were merciless in their teasing and taunting of Odin's heir. They poked and prodded him and took the belts from their armor and slapped his bare, back legs and buttocks. They forced him to stand against the wall, he could hardly support himself every fiber of his being ached and groaned. He would sink down to his knees and try to curl in on himself. His body had no defense against the attacks, but that. Malekith's men didn't care, they'd force him back into a standing position with his face toward the wall and his legs spread. The blonde-haired prince was sobbing. Despite himself Thor thought that he actually called out for help and begged them to stop. "Nonononmore, please," he whimpered. He was yowling and yelping like a child. To this the cruel beings laughed and they struck his flesh harder with their rods and belt.

Just as Prince Thor thought that this was going to be it and that he would simply die then and there from their spankings they all at once ceased. His flesh was on fire. Blood and pus oozed from every exposed crevice. He was panting like a dog, he was till screaming out from pain even though the soldiers were no longer torturing him. He hyperventilated. He was unable to even catch his breath. His bottom had never been so sore. He was hardly ever physically chastised as a child. He could count on one hand when he had ever had a firm swat to his backside. Helga had threatened, but never actually popped him. The Dark-Elves had beaten him for every threat that Helga had ever given him. He'd been beat before, he was a warrior through and through, he'd been scraped and battles and broken every bone since his youth, but nothing was like this. He was in so much agony he couldn't even think.

The pain ebbed and flowed all over his body. It was deep and radiated through every inch on him. Thor tried to take deep breaths. He tried to concentrate and focus on simply enduring the pain. He thought that the pain would kill him. He wanted to die and he thought maybe the Fates had seen fit to grant him just that small kindness. It was cowardice, but it was what he wanted. At least then the people of Asgard would not have to witness his death. They wouldn't have to endure such trauma. At least then he wouldn't have to look at Loki one last time. He took deep breaths and waited for his heart to burst from the blood loss. IT would all be over soon. He let go of his thoughts. Then he felt a splash. A scalding bucket of water was splashed against his naked back and set his whole body on fire. The boiling water seared his flesh. It went into each gaping wound and seemed to cause his blood to quite literally boil. Thor screamed with all his might. The scream came from his very soul. His hands flew off of the wall and he went onto his back like a fish. Thor writhed on the ground in excruciating agony. Tears rolled down his cheeks as the scalding water caused his battered body to add burns on top of bruises and lacerations. His whole body was red with burns and blood. The Dark_Elves took no pity on his plight. They then gathered him up without care, he was crying. He could scarcely stand for them to touch him. He naturally tried to fight against their rough holds, reflexively pulling away and twisting and twirling from their grasps, but they were relentless in their efforts and they managed to hold him down long enough to slather a layer of oil onto his skin. The oil boiled in his wounds and locked in the pain and caused the burns to intensify . Thor started to thrash about. He banged against the stone floor and gritted his teeth, he tried to keep from screaming. He let out one more loud, agonizing bellow. And then he could endure no more.

Thor's body was limp on the floor, bloody and burned and convulsing on the ground. They took advantage of his helpless state and they made sure to dress him as they had been instructed to do. They had been given special garbs for him to wear. Prince Thor's finest tunics had been provided. His red and gold and silver vestments. But they made sure to cut up the robes and tunics. They ripped them to shreds and they painted vile letters on his silver breastplate. "Hero of Asgard" in bright red letters.

"Ah, there he's ready," the commanding officer of the Dark-Elves said to the rest of the troop who had gathered around pulling and tugging on Thor's broken arms as they tried to shove them into place inside the armor. "Come on! Come on! We don't have much time. We've got to get him up and out to see his people one last time." The other soldiers did as they were commanded. They hoisted Prince Thor over their heads and carried his limp body over their heads and up the long staircase. His hands flopped about as the carried him. His head lulled back and forth and rocked side to side as they marched him up the stars that lead away from the dungeon and into the palace proper.

When they got to the top of the of the steps Lord Malekith was wait with a sickening grin on his white ashen lips. "He's ready, my lord," The commander reported.

"He's unconscious," the leader of the Dark-Elves of the Dark-Elves complained.

"We were hoping he was dead," one of the elves commented.

"Oh, he better not be dead," Malekith growled. The soldiers dropped Prince Thor on the floor. His body hit the ground with an unceremonious thud. He didn't even groan. Malekith stooped down and gripped Prince Thor by his barely there hair and ought him to his knees. His face was bloodied and scarred and his breathing was scarcely detectable. Malekith's features folded into a severe grimace. "Oh, he better not be dead!" he rumbled once more, but this time in his own language. He dare not let Prince Thor die on him. He wanted to kill the prince. Oh he wanted to kill him so badly. During his time in hibernation, the Aether had sent him dreams. It sent him glorious dreams of having the honor of taking the life of Bor and all his line, just as he had had to take the life of his own line. But Bor had been dead for thousands of years now. He didn't get the honor of watching the arrogant king see all that he loved be destroyed. He was proud that he had been able to get rid of Odin, the tired elderly all-father was surely good as dead now. He'd killed Bor's son, just as he'd allowed his own son to be sacrificed. Now he'd kill the young Prince, Asgard's hero, their pride and joy, their last hope. It was delicious. Malekith nearly grinned as he thought about it, but then the painful realization hit him once more that he would not be the person with the honor of taking Prince Thor's miserable life. How could Thanos have given such a privilege to Loki. Loki, self proclaimed king of Asgard, apparently now Thanos' right hand man. Malekith shook his head. This couldn't be. This shouldn't be! It should be him! He had conspired with Thanos for many years. They were of like man. They both believed in a world made new devoid of the weak and pitiful. They both understood that the Aether had unlimited capabilities. But still, if he couldn't be the one to taste first-blood from Bor's kin than he certainly would live vicariously through the new King of Asgard. "Wake up!" Malekith yelled as he shook Prince Thor vigorously. He back-slapped him a couple of times so that his head jiggled back and forth pathetically. Finally, Prince Thor's eyes just barely managed to flutter open. He gagged and gasped and moaned incoherently as consciousness beat him over the head. He tried to speak, but he was in too much anguish. "Get him up! Get him to his feet!" Lord Malekith barked out orders to his men.

The Dark-Elf soldiers did their best to hoist Prince Thor to his feet, but the son of Odin kept flopping over like a fish. "Sir, he cannot stand," the commander of the Elves spoke.

Lord Malekith turned around with a wild and ravenous look in his eyes. His pit eyes glaring and gleaming, his teeth bared like the fangs of a wolf. "What? Get him up! I mean get him up! I say! You know I don't give orders twice!" the general growled.

"Yessir!" the soldiers chimed in unison as the saluted. They all did their best to try to keep Prince Thor upright, but it was no use. They could carry him, but he had no strength left which to speak of the stand even though the beat him and kicked him savagely.

"Ich Ka bip...daah du...biii...Kahda RAAHH!" Malekith ranted in the tongue of the Dark-Elves. His words could be interpreted as, "I don't care if you have to shove a pole up his rear, just get him up!"

"What's all this now, Lord Malekith," a clipped and controlled Asgardian voice entered the room. The heads of the elves swiveled as they faced their new king. The Dark-Elf soldiers stood at attention and the ones who were holding Prince Thor let his body fall to the floor. Loki sauntered to the troops of elfin soldiers. He was dressed in the fullness of his military regalia. He was in resplendent gold armor of the finest quality. His helmet upon his head like the most elegant of crowns. His emerald cape flowing behind him in a luxurious manner. He looked as much like a man of war as he did a bridegroom. Asgardians always dressed their best for battle, since victory in battle was the best of occasions and death in battle was the greatest of glories. Either way one should look at their finest.

"We were just dealing with the prisoner, as you requested, Your Majesty," Malekith said through gritted white teeth as he managed a bow. The Dark-Elf soldiers noted their liege and did the same. Loki walked through the ranks of the Dark-Elf soldiers all who had took a posture of deference. His shoulder pads seemed to rise higher in the air, his chest expanding and his head and crown seemed to float on clouds. He stepped confidently among them until he finally came to where Malekith stood, hovering ominously over Thor.

Loki curled his nose at the disgraceful state in which he found his brother in. He remembered the slums that he'd visited in the future. They were absolutely horrid. The people living their hadn't looked like people. They looked like slabs of broken and tenderized meat. Some just looked like old dry and rotten bones. It had been a sight that he'd never seen before in Asgard. One he couldn't bare to see again. The sight of Thor reminded him of that. Every inch of him was bloodied and battered and torn and bruised so mercilessly. Thor was convulsing on the ground. He was like shivering pulp. The clothing and armor that they had stuffed him in clung to the severe burns on his skin and dug into the lacerations. He noted Thor's freshly cut hair. It was lopped off in the unceremonious fashion. He couldn't remember Thor's hair ever being so short... perhaps when they were boys. When they were youths Thor hair was long and down his back. Now he was like a shorn sheep. A lamb for the slaughter. The Dark-Elves may have thrown some water on him. He was dripping wet, but they certainly hadn't washed him. He stank. Loki's eyes bulged and watered as the repugnant odor pierced his nostrils. Or maybe his eyes were watering because he couldn't believe he had let him brother come to such a sad and sorry state. "I don't believe I told you to treat him...," Loki looked his brother up and down. Even through some of the armor, blood seeped through, "so..." Loki kept his tone curt, "harshly," he enunciated languidly.

"It was a perk for my men," Malekith said as he circled around the prince of Asgard like a vulture. "They have waited to enact their vengeance," he hissed.

Loki waved a dismissive hand, his gauntlets gleamed. "Spare me," he yawned. "I know of your quest for vengeance."

"It was one we shared. One that brought us both to Thanos, now you feel differently? Such a quick change of heart?" Malekith inquired.

"Hardly," the dark-haired wizard responded. "I did expect you to show him some charity, though," Loki shrugged. He stepped slightly closer to Thor and barely nudged him with the toe of his boot to which Thor yelped.

"I hardly know the meaning of the word," Malekith retorted in his rough mother tongue.

The king of Asgard clicked his tongue, "Yes, of course" Loki said almost pityingly. He touched Malekith on the shoulder in an almost pitying fashion. Malkekith's eyes followed Loki's every move. He didn't much care for the Asgardian laying a finger on him. "Like so many other words you don't know the meaning of," the self-proclaimed king of Asgard stated as he bounced his hand on Malekith's shoulder. "Like symbolism, irony and savor," Loki nearly whispered. "You beat Thor up so completely and utterly...that it doesn't take much to kill him. Honestly, at this point, a child could do it," Loki said with a flick of the wrist.

"That's the whole point!" Malekith growled, he spun away from Loki's clutches. "We have dominated and abased him!"

"yes, yes, quite, but that takes away from my moment," Loki said as he shined his polished fingers nails on the velvet around his armor.

"I don't care about your moment!" Malekith raged. He foamed at the mouth like a dog! "Your stalling! You're wasting valuable time! This was supposed to be my moment!" He pounded the dark star symbol on his chest.

"Precisely," Loki mouthed. "It's nobody's moment now," Loki grimaced and rolled his eyes. "Thor could die before dawn and then its no ones victory or revenge," Loki explained.

"The son of the son of Bor will have died by my hand and that's good enough for me," Malekith robbed his hand together.

'Oh, I know...I know Malekith that that is enough for you. Darkness is enough for you," Loki put air-quotations around the end of the sentence. "But it will mean nothing to the Asgardians. The Aesir detest weakness. A weak person dying will mean nothing to them. In fact they believe in it. You want them to fear you as do I, but you have to play the part, General. They have to have that glimmer of hope that Thor could prevail and then watch his head roll," Loki expressed.

"What are you getting at your Highness? You speak in riddles."

"I'll take it from here. I will heal the prince just enough so that he is able to stand and walk out of here and we will parade him in front of his people and let him feel the humiliation and fear one last time before we end him. Besides don't you want the last thing that he sees to see the Aesir people crying and screaming for him to save them and then he can't?'

Malekith considered King Loki's words. "I want the last thing he sees to be my smiling face before he stands at the gates of Helheim," Malekith added.

"Fine," Loki stated. He rolled his eyes before he cracked his knuckles and waved his hands over Thor's body sensing the damage. He was not a healer. But he felt so many would, broken clavicle, fractured bones, severed arteries, punctures to his vital organs. It was honestly a miracle that Thor was alive, but he was just barely so. His pulse was unsteady and he had a severe concussion that could have easily led to coma. Asgardians were hard to wound, harder to kill, but it could be done and Malekith had nearly done that. The more severe injuries would have to be taken care of by a true healer or at least helped with the aid of a healing crystal. Still, Loki waved his hands over his brother's body. A foggy green light emanated from his hands. He waved his hands around in a fashion that was like a dance. The Dark-Elves gaped as they saw some od Thor's contusions dissipated, some of his wounds close and some of his body parts that were swollen and purple become normal. Loki had only managed to heal the most shallow of Thor's wounds. Even those were so extensive and so numerous that he could feel his energy being drained. He had to stop.

"That's enough!" Malekith practically screamed when he saw the first sized lump that had replaced his eye starting to go down and the blue of Prince Thor's eyes starting to peer through.

Loki dust of his hands before curling them back up into fists. "Wh-wh-wh-" Thor muttered deliriously.

"Get him to his feet! Get him to his feet," Malekith ordered his men in their language. The soldiers immediately took to following the general's command. They snatched Thor from the ground. His knees buckled and his armor felt heavy and he fell back to the ground, but he didn't go face first in the dirt. he caught himself on his hands and knees. "get him up! Get him up!" the warriors of Svartalfheim pulled at the prince of Asgard again and made sure he stood. They jammed their swords and blasters beneath his pits to hold him up.

Thor looked around the sea of unfriendly bloodless faces was all to familiar. But then there was new face, but not so new. "L-l-loki..." he muttered in disbelief. His voice hoarse.

"Hello Brother," Loki mumbled stepping closer. His thin lips formed a wide smile without any teeth. He looked at his ensemble. "Ohh.. Brother you look ravishing. Let's get you in front of a crowd shall we," he stated with that he led the way out the door.

---

The Aesir who were set to be capture waited in the catacombs. There was an eerie quiet among them. They had a mixed multitude of men, women and children, young and old, politician, soldier and civilian, rich and poor. Some tried to spend their last few moments huddled under blankets, others scrounged up the potatoes and turnips and salted meats that had been left by their ancestors and make up a last meal. Children clung to their parents not saying a word, most not even crying. People just sat silently holding hands. Lovers pecked at each were a few who turned their heads and prayed in circle-groups others lied prostrate on the floor interceding for intervention. The was a hushed whispered of some who continued to sing the hymn of the ancients.

All the while Lord Algrim and a few of the other officials walked around. They laid hands on the people. They prayed for them and blessed them as best they could. Algrim hoped that he was doing the right thing for the people of Asgard, for the people of the Nine Realms truly. He had been a sole survivor before. He had seen a kingdom beautiful and wonderful decimated and turned to ash. It was painful. The Light Elves had strong and capable warriors too,they had the powers of the forest, they had beautiful cities and vast empires that were made of ivory and some that were hidden amongst the trees, they had learned men and women and they had advanced technology, but when Surtur had attacked and reigned devastation on them their efforts had done little. They had turned to Asgard for salvation. If Asgard fell there would be no one to save the realms. This was their only hope. And he hoped it would work.

Lord Algrim was just about to sit down. His old elf feet were starting to hurt. He hadn't sat in so long. He found an empty chair in the corner and started to make his way there. Mistress Eir made her way over to the Prime Minister. "Prime Minister," she said quietly as we watched the weary old elf pull out the chair.

"Mistress Eir," he jumped up and rose to his feet and bowed to the noblewoman. She smiled affectionately at him. In all this crisis he maintained courtly decorum. She curtsies back and the long strands of gray hair fell in her face. "The sick and infirmed are well hidden now and the troops have moved on. I gave them as many of the healing herbs and salves as I and the healers could come up with in the small amount of time that we had," she explained. Her eyes darted around and she worried her hands.

"Mistress Eir," He said taking her hands. "I'm sure you did everything possible...there's... there's no more that can be done now," he confessed as he sighed.

"I gave them healing crystals...there are only a few..."

"Eir!" LOrd Algrim gasped and shook his head. "You need those. You are the one how is caring for our infirmed and out elderly..." he explained.

"The infirmed and the elderly have me and the healers with them, besides they will be protected and safe in the catacombs. Our troops and other citizens are risking everything. I can't be with them, but I don't want any more of our people to die," she shook her head. "Here," she passed him 3 large healing crystals. "That's the last that we have," she said breathlessly. She didn't wait for him to say yes or no, she just shoved them into his arms.

"Eir!" he called out to protest.

"There's no time!" she immediately reacted.

"What do you mean?" Algrim asked anxiously.

"They're upon us," Eir said as she looked around.

"What?" the Prime Minister gasped. There was no time to react. One of the town criers blew on the bugle as a warning.

"Dark-Elves! Dark-Elves!" he yelled out.

"Go!" Lady Eir insisted one last time. She shoved the crystal's once more back at the Prime Minister. They looked each other in the eye for a split second. More words on the tips of both of their tongues. They had worked in court together for years both serving as advisers for the royal family. Their friendship ran deep. There were tears in her eyes and he could feel a lump forming in his was a beautiful woman, even in her old age. She had many features that the Light-Elves praised, lithe of body and long face a natural grace. He'd had a wife, but never had any children, she had a large family, but her husband had passed on...There was a time...when he had thought... that perhaps... he and Eir...It had been a passing fancy. They were both too old and too wise to get mixed up in courtship. Now the Elfin Prime Minister regretted never asking the noble mistress to accompany him to a royal ball.

"Eir," his voice croaked.

His words were cut short by the tremendous thumping a swift approaching army. "Go!" she urged him once more and then she started to run.

Algrim was left gaping! His pointed ears were left twitching, inching to hear one more word. But there was no time. There was no time at all. All at once Algrim watched as many Aesir jumped up, afright. They rose like a great swelling wave. The eerie calm broken by panicking chatter and, frantic feet in a hurry to get to no exit. There were screams and there were shouts. "WHAT DO WE DO? WHAT DO WE DO?" This was the plan. This was the plan. These were the people who had elected to stay behind to give other a chance to give the soldiers and the scientist a fighting chance. But now that the moment was here all were nervous and frightened like children. Algrim found himself fumbling with the stones in his hands. The crystals...the crystals. He had to keep them safe. He scrambled trying to find folds in his cloak where he could place them. Maybe he should give one to Lady Sif, if he could find Lady Sif. He scanned the crowd searching for the stately brunette shield maiden. Things were starting to blur. People were starting to rush about! There was pushing and shoving as people tried to make their way to the furthest back wall.

"THEY"RE COMING! THEy'RE COMING! MERCIFUL YGGDRASIL HELP US!" frantic screams echoes. Algrims own heart started to thunder in his chest. He started to back up with the crowd. As he heard the sound of some citizens starting flee. He also heard the thunderous footsteps of an advancing battalion from his rear. Je turned around breathless for a moment and then let out a sigh as he found it was the forces of Asgard.

"Steady men, steady!" Lady Sif encouraged the troops. He was happy to see the numbers of soldiers. Both Einherjar and Valkyrie marching side by side in platoons. They'd lost so many fine warriors, but their numbers didn't look so meager when he say them all together. The warriors had taken time to follow the ancient Aesir tradition and prepare their armor. Somehow in the midst of everything that they had to do they kept to their ways and made effort to polish their armor. Seeing so many brave men and women of Asgard in their military finery, polished and fine. It gave hope to his heart .The Einherjar were in their gleaming gold, the armor was thick strong and perfect like the chiseled muscles on a body builder. Their swords were raised high. Some still slick with blood. Their helmets were on and the visors were down obscuring their identities in in the heart on battle. The crests they had on the tops of their helmets were meant to represent sharks. The deadliest of predators of the seas. The higher ranking members of the Einherjar also had great horns atop their helmets to represent the fierceness of a Bilgeschnipe. They had spears and javelins pointed sharp enough to pin a fly to a wall. Their shields were large and flat and made of black gold with the insignia of the Asgard on it. The shields were large enough to cover a man's whole body, they were made of iron from Musepulheim it as nigh impenetrable. The soldiers were stomping their feet raising their swords and shouting defiantly against the odds.

He then turned to the Valkyrie. The elite female fighting forced looked like a group of angels in their sparkling silver battle gear. The Valkyrie did not traditionally wear helmets. The beauty of their faces was an important asset in battle. In ancient times, many men were unprepared for the dazzling beauty of a woman on the battle-field. To this day, they used it to their advantage. But the women warriors had far more tricks up their sleeves that their good-looks and charms. A Valkyrie was known to conceal 10 weapons on their at all times. They had taser swords that were drawn and ready and frightful electric currents of blue and white and purple rippled up and down the edges of sterling silver blades. The had whips and lassos made of gold that could incapacitate a man if it wrapped all the way around him. Their shields could be used and flying discuses. They could shoot them at lightning speeds across the battlefield and they'd been known to decapitate. Those were just the weapons that women allowed to be revealed to their enemies. Many of them were still on the backs of white winged horses. The horses had armor too that made the beast look as fearsome as griffins. The horses stamped their hooves and reared on the hind legs, their wings flapped rapidly blowing things all around and creating a small windstorm within the holding chamber. The stallions were ready and so were their riders. Lord Algrim couldn't help but gawk at them in all their glory.

"Form barriers around the citizens," Lady Sif ordered with a shout. Immediately, the soldiers advanced and obeyed her commands. They gathered up groups of Aesir civilians some serfs some nobles, some peasants some gentry, men and women young and old and warriors surrounded them protectively. The Einherjar used their bodies and their shields to block their people from the wrath of the vicious Dark-Elves who were snarling at their door. Sif observed that the Einherjar and Valkyrie had made about 25 distinct circles each shielding more than 100 people. Good that was the plan. She nodded. "Captains with me!" she yelled. A few of the soldiers broke away from their circles and ran up to the frontline's with Lady Sif. Einherjar captain with golden crested helmets ran up beside Lady Sif and formed a defensive line once again.

Volstagg came up on her side. His curly red beard had been braided up for war. His jolly face was bright crimson with war paint. He had his battle ax slung over his shoulder. "Volstagg!" Lady Sif gasped, "what are you doing here?" she asked astonished between gritted teeth.

"Defending are people," The jolly giant responded. "You?" he asked back as his eyes narrowed. He stared at the door. What were the Dark-Elves waiting for?

"You were supposed to go with your family," Sif reminded him. "This wasn't the plan,"

"I love my wife and children and my sisters," he explained. He gulped. He was the only member of their group to actually be married. Frandal for all his romancing and cavorting and bedding of any damsel who tickled his fancy had never desired to settle down, Prince Thor had gotten incredibly close, but never actually been able to go through with the deed. Hogan was most likely too quiet to ever hold a maiden's interest for too long and Sif, well Sif was Lady Sif. "But when my little daughter said to me 'Papa...you're not going to stay and fight?' I knew my place wasn't to run away," he expressed.

Sif maintained her steely gaze, but she sucked her teeth and swore, "Norns! It's not supposed to end like this. You may never see your family again," she reminded him.

"Not matter what, Lady Sif, we will all see each other again...eventually," he gulped. She turned her head for the first time and looked at him and both of their eyes glistened.

"Dying is the day worth living for," she mouthed to him the Einherjar creed.

Volstagg threw his head back in a jaunty bellow. "We're not dead yet," he twisted his foot into the dirt and tightened his grip on his battle axe.

"Let's keep it that way," Lady Sif winked. She flicked her double blade open as more soldiers fell in around her.

'Besides," he said as he looked around at the Einherjar warriors who were rushing in from every side to create a barrier to protect the people. "I'm still with my family," he winked back. Sif nodded as she watched her brothers in arms swarm in.

"Alright!" Lady Sif's loud voice rose above the clatter of clanking armor. "Do everything you can to hold this line," she told them. "These brave souls have agreed to be captured for the cause of our people and the NIne Realms. This is the vast majority of the citizens in the Imperial city," she shifted her helmet back to gesture to the citizens behind them. "WE MUST PROTECT THEM!" she proclaimed. "They signed up to be captured, not to be killed. There are children back there. Some maybe even yours," she explained. "The Dark-Elves don't have our codes they kill indiscriminately. So we will take as many of them out as possible while still following the plan of capture," she called over her shoulder. "This is for the Nine Realms!" the warriors cheered. "This is for Asgard!" the hooted even louder. "This is for your family," the yelled and raised their fists high. "This is for PRINCE THOR!" she declared with her sword pointed,

"FOR THOR!" the crowd of warriors bellowed behind her. Their cheers rang out like underground thunder. Sif held up her fist to silence them. The Einherjar and Valkyrie fell silent, but their were still the soft mixed murmurs and rumbles of the citizens.

"Steady! Steady!" the warriors encouraged the people.

"Come on...come on...come on...come on," Lady Sif muttered to herself as she walked the large stone door that separated them from their ancient foe.

"What are they waiting for?" Volstagg questioned out loud. Just then the crowd behind him became eerily calm. Just then they heard the "Puuunnn! Puuuuunnn! Sound of the Dark-Elf blasters firing. When he looked back up, he saw the swirling vortex sucking in the rock and stone that had stood for 10000 years making up the catacombs.

The Dark-Elves marched into the chamber in their clumsy fashion. Their faces obscured by their masks. They were a sea of same faces and dull, black eyed stares. The Asgardians ready themselves. Lady Sif and Volstagg and the captains held the front lines. They raised their swords and shields high and in defensive position. The elves moved in slowly, but their numbers kept growing. It seemed as though Malekith had sent his entire horde. Although the Asgardians far outnumbered them.

"Lady Sif, we can take them," declared one of the captains of the Einherjar. "We don't have to allow these people to be captured. I doubt the Dark-Elves expect us to put up much of a fight," he whispered out the side of his mouth and into her ear.

"Quiet Captain!" Sif declared.

She and Volstagg both watched as one of the Dark-Elves stepped to the forefront. His men had their blasters aimed at the Asgardians. The warriors were doing their best to shield the people. But the army of Svartalfheim had the advantage due to their advanced weaponry. For thousands of years they had preyed upon kingdoms and empires and wrought destruction with their deadly blasters. If one shot was fired their was little that a soldier could do to fend against getting sucked in the vortex accept try to outrun its suction powers. The Dark-Elves had their blasters set ready to fire. But the one who was walking to the front he held a steady hand in a tight balled fist keeping the guns from going off. He removed his mask. His features were not so different from the blank face that he wore, but there were a few battle scars that crisscrossed his ghostly visage. His nose was upward turned and his lips were thick. His large dark-eyes glowered at the people of Asgard. He could hear some of the chattering teeth and knocking knees and the haggard, staggered breathing escaping from some. They watched as those thick lips curled into a smile. His gray tongue lapped over his white lips. He pulled a scroll from his pocket. He began to read from the scroll. He had a strong deep voice and he spoke with the same distinct Svartalfheim accent that Malekith did. He was reading int the native tongue of that realm. The people of Asgard looked at each other in a puzzled and perplexed state as he praddled on. Most Aesir spoke Norse and read Rune. In schools many times Vanir was a popular choice for youngsters to study. It was relatively simple for most Aesir to learn as the root structure of the two languages was the same. If they wished to communicate with people of the Nine Realms they used the ancient enchanter language of Allspeak.

Volstagg rolled his eyes. He was growing tired of hearing the herald drone on and on and on and not understanding a word of what was being said. "Speak Aesir or let your sword do the talking!" he called out in all-speak. "Don't insult our ears with your primitive tongue!" he went on and growled.

All of the elves heard Volstagg's taunt. Immediately they let out grumbles and the readied their guns clicking them as they geared them up for a blast that would hurl the pudgy axe-man into another dimension. The Dark-Elf battalion leader continued to steady his men by keeping his hand raised in the air and not allowing them to fire on the Aesir soldiers and civilians. "Where are they?" he asked.

"Where are who?" Volstagg shot back.

"The rest of you wretches?"

"This is all that is left of us!" Sif declared. "No thanks to you!" She spat to the ground, but wished her fist could have reached his face.

"We know there are more of you..." his coal color eyes scanned the area. "King Loki told us how many people reside in the Imperial City," he explained.

"There were more of us and then you slaughtered us! You murderous bastards!" one soldier shouted out of the ranks of the Einherjar.

"Loki isn't our king!" Lady Sif said with warning in her tone. "And he knows nothing of us! You follow a blind leader. He spent nearly 2 years locked in a dungeon," she informed.

"Oh I think he knows enough. He knew where you miserable worms were hiding," the Dark-Elves laughed.

One of the Einherjar captains who stood at attention at the frontlines could no longer take the insults that were being hurled against the noble people of Asgard. He hurled his javelin into the battalion of Dark-Elves. It flew fast and true and there was a secret with inside the weapon. The spearhead of the javelin opened up and from it spewed little time poisoned darts. It was a brilliant weapon. One that the weapon's developers were quite proud of, but it served little use. The darts could have killed any of the Dark-Elves instantly had it pricked their flesh, but it was not given the opportunity because no sooner had the solider tossed his javelin than did one of the elves fire off his blaster. It let out its shockwave and the vortex was created and it immediately sucked in the fiery darts and the javelin along with it.

"Please," The captain of the Dark-Elf troop yawned as he watched their blast completely devour the javelin. "Their is no need for anymore of your puny effort," he started. "Have the dignity to admit that you have been bested. Accept your fate as slaves because your only other alternative with be death," he insisted now irritated at their insolence. He expected them to be cowering and caught unawares.

"VALKYRIE!" Lady Sif shouted over her shoulder to the other shield maidens upon their winged horses.

"DEATH FIRST!" the women chanted.

The herald of the Dark-Elves maintained a smug and amused expression as he beheld the beautiful shield-maidens. "Oh, I think it can be arranged." he reminded them. "But that will be later. Now let me read to you your grand and glorious invitation." he sneered. The formality and pomp and ceremony by which the Aesir held themselves was a bore to him. The Dark-Elves were not such a people. Still, they were a people that respected authority and power greatly. KIng Loki had authority and power and he'd do as Thanos' appointed had commanded. He once again let the scroll unravel and he read from it. "The Sovereign Ruler of Asgard, His Royal Majesty, KIng Loki all-father and High Regent of the NIne Realblms does hereby summarily request the presence of the children of the Aesir and the citizens of Asgard to attend the execution ceremony of the former Prince of Asgard, Prince Thor Odinson..."

Lady Sif started to fume, if it was possible blood and steam would have poured from her ears at hearing those well crafted flowery silver-tongued words coming off of the parchment scroll. They bore Loki's signature. Only a scoundrel and a low-life such as Loki could try to take something so horrible and so abominable and try to make it sound like a pleasure and privilege.

"Well you can tell his majesty that we are disinclined to acquiesce to his request!" Lady Sif fired back.

"Oh he thought that you might have that very response," the Dark-Elf replied. "But we are to take you whether you come willingly or not," he narrowed his eyes as he spoke. "TAKE THEM!" he shouted toward his troops.

Without hesitation the Dark-Elves began to shoot off the pulsating vortex creating blast. Electric currents and black holes opened up all over the large chamber. The Aesir began to scream as they watched sturdy pillars get sucked away. The frontline of Einherjar and Valkyrie advanced immediately, they hurled their spears and shot the arrows and rushed at the enemy with swords. Most of their attempts were just swallowed up into vortexes, a terrible mixture of light and darkness.

Other soldiers did their best to protect the people they barricaded them. They placed shields around them and guarded them with their bodies. They told the people to get down on the ground and lay flat with the shields on top of them.

The cries of the Aesir warriors as they rushed into the battle bounced off the stone walls. Horses hooves pounded as they ran fast as they could into the crowd of Aesir. The war horses were well trained and they knew how to take a man down. They would ram into one of the Dark-Elf soldiers with their heads or with their wings. They'd hurl them into the wall or stomp them into the ground. The leader of the elves was horrified as he watched as Asgard's weakened forced was managing to prevail. They'd been beating twice already by the Dark-Elves. The first time it was because they were caught by surprise. The second time was because they were outmatched by power, but the Aesir were far too prideful of a people to lose three times.

Steel crashed against steel. The soldiers fought and warred and scraped for their very lives. Their swords sliced through the armor of the Dark-Elves and made confetti of it, leaving black trails of blood in their wake. Golden whips lassoed up 3 and 4 soldiers at a time. This left them powerless and convulsing on the ground with a terrible case of the ground. The Valkyrie took no pity on her victims. The woman jumped off of the backs of her pegasus and marched right up to the soldiers who were being electrocuted. Her face was exquisite. It was lovely as a picture besides for the fact that she was screaming in furious rage. She ripped off the masks of one of the Dark-Elves, the creature's body was wracked with seizures, his head jolted up and down and back forth as it slammed against the stone floor. His eyes rolled about in the back of his head. His mouth started to foam. It was a barbaric sight fit for such a barbaric being. She unsheathed he sterling silver blade. Her breath came out quickly as she raised the might blade over her head. "The Valkyrie were there before," she said breathlessly. "In the times of Bor, when he defeated you before...I will finish what they started," she proclaimed. She closed her eyes and brought the sword down swift and true, but just as it was about to graze the heart of the Dark-Elf soldier a baster went off. A vortex was formed out of thin air. It was fast moving sending off electric light in every direction. And finally, in her direction. The young Valkyrie's eyes were raised wide as she prepared herself for the end. She could feel the heavy magnetic pull of the black hole starting to such her in. It was taking her body and soul. She closed her eyes and braced for impact. Then there was an opposite tug. An arrow shot to her chest. It went through her armor, but it didn't pierce her skin.

"Hold on!" she heard a voice shout to her. She could scarcely make out the face of the person calling to her and it didn't matter. Immediately, her hands held fast to the arrow that was connected to her chest and she felt a tug. A strong hard tug that pulled her out of the clutches of the vortex. The vortex sucked up the Dark-Elves instead. The young Valkyrie was left gaping on the ground. She yanked the arrow which was connected to a strong piece of rope from her chest. She rolled over on her side and stomach as she tried to catch her breath. "Are you alright?" the voice asked. It was most certainly female.

She smiled slowly as she took the hand that helped her to her feet. "Yes, thank you, sister," she said expecting to see another Valkyrie standing in front of her. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of brightness that radiated from the black hole. She was baffled at seeing that the person before her was not another sister in arms. It was a daintily built platinum blonde woman with armor that was crudely made. And beneath the breastplate and arm-guards she had on a skirt that would have been fancy had it not been torn to shreds.

"Who are you?" the young warrior asked. "How'd you do that?" she asked.

"I'm Sigyn," the blonde woman replied and let out a giggle.

"Sigyn...Sigyn?" the woman puzzled. "Are you a Valkyrie recruit?" she asked although this woman seemed to be a little bit older that her.

"No," was lady Sigyn's simple reply. "Can I have that arrow back?" she asked nervously as she pointed to the shield-maiden's hand. The other woman looked down at the weapon and shrugged before handing it over. "Thanks...I need every arrow I can get," she confirmed and the Valkyrie simply nodded as she watched Sigyn rush toward the heavier part of the fighting.

The Dark-Elves were taking heavy losses. Many bodies were smashed against the floor. The Aesir still outnumbered them a great deal. But the offensive line that the Asgardians had put up was so strong that the Dark-Elves could scarcely break through their ranks. One of the soldiers would get ready to fire off a blaster and a big burly red-haired Viking would come smashing through with his battle axe. He'd smash the blaster to bit and he took off a couple of Dark-Elf hands in the process. As the Svartalfheim soldier stood screaming in agony, Volstagg would clobber them with one of his signature moves. One that his friends had appropriated named a belly buster. He'd leap into the air. He was light on his feet and he would dive down and with his rotund belly smash his enemies into the ground. "FOR ASGARD!" he bellowed from the air as he spread his massive arms out like eagle's wings. He flopped right down on a pair of unsuspecting elfin soldiers. His mighty abdomen leaving them flat as pancakes. "Ah, don't worry boys," he said cracking his back as he yawned and stretched while he rolled off of on top of them. "I haven't eaten in days," he explained and laughed as he walked away.

Volstagg dusted off his hands and patted his bulbous belly as he ran next to Lady Sif, he double bladed javelin easily allowed her to take on 3 or 4 of the Dark-Elves at a time. She leaped in the air sliced through the bodies of a few enemies and landed and gutted another few. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to play with your food," she teased her pudgy pal as she wiped the black blood of the Dark-Elves from her face.

"Sif you've known me since I was a boy and you know I never listened?" the redheaded Viking joked. He went on swinging his battle-axe to hold the enemy warriors at bay.

The commander of the Dark-Elf battalion grew weary of watching his soldiers being slaughtered. "ENOUGH!" he hollered over the roar of battle cries and the screams of those being cut down, but elf and Aesir. "BRING THE RAIN!" he ordered. At this command each of the Dark-Elves took a position. They let go of their blasters and guns and pulled out their vortex creating grenades. They instantly tossed them into the air. The Einherjar looked up in horror as the ceiling was filled with blinding electric white and blue light and vortexes and black holes started forming all around.

"TAKE COVER!" Lady Sif exclaimed as she and the troops immediately began scattering in an offensive maneuver. They ran with their shields up, trying to protect themselves. They ducked and scrambled and scattered like cockroaches. But their was no where to hide. They were in an open atrium. The people also ran. They ran from other the protective covers of the army shields. Little children were easy victims for the black holes. They were light and small and could easily be scooped up. Women screamed as they held on tightly to the hands of their children who were crying and begging as their little bodies were hoisted toward the vortexes. The suction was so powerful that a parent and child could both end up being sucked up at the same time. The vortexes ate away at the walls and pillars and caused them to collapse. Pieces of the ceiling broke off and fell crushing warrior and civilian a like. Splattered bodies were on the floor.

"AAAAHHHH ATTACK!" one of the Valkyrie hollered as she mounted her flying steed and charged into the atmosphere and the black hole bombs were going off. She managed to dodge and weave around the bombs. Her flying horse was swift and it was trained for battle, a faithful companion in the art of war. Her silver blade was raised to strike and kill. She had her sights set on the leader of the band of miscreants. His black eyes stared her dead in the eye as her sword came right for him. She leaped off the back of the pegasus. She pulled out a concealed weapon. 12 golden assassin stars came raining down on the Dark-Elf soldier while her blade was set only for their commander. He immediately side stepped her assault and threw another grenade into the air. It took his place and she was pulled into. It swirled and sparked and made itself wider to swallow her whole. It enveloped her quickly. The hole was just about the close, but as it grew narrower a single arrow shot through it with a tether connected to the end of it. The suction of the vortex was powerful and it dragged the person who was holding onto the other end of the rope across the floor. The person screamed as their skin was scraped across the rubble.

"Sigyn?" Volstagg gasped as he saw her being pulled toward the swirling vortex. "Lady Sigyn, let go!" he called out to her. He rushed behind her and finally caught her by the foot.

Sigyn was gasping and crying her arm was terribly cut out and bloodied. Her face was scraped and she was trembling as she did her best to maintain her grip on the tether which had already given her severe rope burn on her palm. She shook her head. "No...No...no," she protested. Volstagg looked confused. "Cut the line!" the Einherjar general bellowed as he could feel the frightful tug of the vortex. "No wait!" she screamed out she struggled for breath and struggled to maintain her hold on the rope. She tried to raise her free hand to point to the vortex. As she did so a burned, scarred hand could be seen making ever effort to crawl from the dreadful clutches of the black-hole.
"Help her!" Volstagg yelled once more as he tried to take a firmer hold of Lady Sigyn's leg.

The Einherjar rushed to aid the young Valkyrie. The Dark-Elves saw them coming and shot at them with blasters. There men fell. "NO!" Volstagg bellowed as he watched his comrades. Good, strong soldiers being shot down in such an unceremonious manner. Reflexively he let good of Sigyn's foot and once again the Vortex started pulling her in.

The commander of the Dark-Elves held a smug expression on his face. He reached forth with a crude look black dagger that seemed as old as time. And simply cut the rope just as the young Valkyries face was starting to appear out of the black hole. She was gasping for breath and tears were streaming down her face that was overrun with burns. She held out one strong fist before the vortex closed. The sparks and the flames died down and she was lost. "Oh, no," the blonde-haired daughter of Admiral Arn mumbled. Her hand still clung to the rope. Maybe if she would have had the enchanted arrows that Loki gave her...maybe she could have saved more...helped more...

The commander of the Dark-elves gripped up the end of the rope that he had cut and began wrapping it around his hands. With one swift tug he yanked Sigyn forward she flew from the ground and went slamming into the commander's chest. She let out a bloodcurdling scream as she looked into the black pits for eyes and saw that sickening smile with teeth like knives. "Let me go!" Sigyn screamed.

"Hold still, my pretty," the commander stated, "or I'll put this through your skull!" he warned her as he showed his ancient dagger. "Aesir!" the commander called out to them. "King Loki wanted you all to come to the celebration of your prince's death. I'd prefer for you all to join him," he admitted cruelly. "Now the choice is yours...come now...quietly and there need be no more senseless death...at least just yet," he shrugged. "if you refuse once more, we'll start hacking your miserable corpses, starting with this beauty, right here," he insisted as a short, white finger with a long black talon connected to it traced Sigyn's jawline and throat.

"STOP!" yelled Lord Algrim, he stepped out of the huddled mass of Asgardian's citizens who were cowering at the carnage of their loved ones. He came forth with his hands raised. "I'm Prime Minister of Asgard, I speak for the people," he explained. "Please...please..." he begged breathlessly. "Release the maiden, I'll come...we'll all come quietly, he said as he continued to walk toward the Dark-Elf Commander.

"Lord Algrim," Lady Sif shook her head as he walked pass her.

He winked. "This is the plan, remember?" he whispered. His old wrinkled hand grazed her shoulder as he walked by. This was always the plan, there wasn't supposed to be any fighting on violence, but the Aesir were warriors by nature. Battle ran in their blood, they were not the type to surrender. Their was something about Asgardians, he shook his head, he had lived among them for so many centuries, he'd adopted their ways as his own, he thought that they and he had long since forgotten that he was of Light Elf blood. That is why he preferred a plan that spared more lives. "We'll come," he insisted to the commander of the Dark-Elves with an earnest nod.

The Dark-Elf soldier didn't stand very tall, but Algrim bent his old knees to bow before the commander and the Valkyrie and Einherjar lowered their weapons and the people of Asgard put up their hands in a sign of surrender. "So glad that you finally see reason cousin," the Dark-Elf sneered at the Light-Elf. Algrim stayed on his knees and kept his head bowed and hands up as he listened to the sinister taunts. "Get her out of my sight," he declared as he tossed Lady Sigyn aside. She flew to the ground with a yelp and she hit the stone floor hard.

"Sigyn," Called out Lord Algrim as he saw the beautiful handmaiden of Queen Frigga tossed to the floor. She whimpered and winced, but managed to get onto her knees gasping, she tried to turn her gaze to let the Prime Minister know that she was alright.

The Dark-Elf commander stomped closer toward Lord Algrim. He looked down on the elderly civil servant. He wore a scowl and then his boot came and swiftly kicked the old elf in the chest.

"Lord Algrim," Lady Sigyn cried, her hand stretching out toward him. The armies of Asgard immediately readied themselves and grabbed their weapons. Algrim was frail and old his bones brittle. His body shook and trembled as he looked at the Dark-Elf. He started coughing. Blood spilled forth from his lips and stained his long, thin white beard. He raised a shaky hand the quell the high spirits of the soldiers. "Where are the rest of them?" he demanded once more. "All the people of Asgard should have the privilege to watch this glorious occasion, to watch the dawning of a new error," the fiend elaborated.

Algrim tried to get himself together, he tried to control his hacking. Lady Sigyn crawled toward him. She reached him and got behind him and rubbed and patted his back as she tried to settle him. The head of Asgard's High Council shook his head. His coughing deepened and he spewed forth more blood. He waved his hand trying to shoo the blonde-haired lady-in-waiting away. He placed himself between the Dark-Elf and the Aesir woman. He cleared his throat and took gulps of air to try to speak. "This...is...all...there...is," Algrim confessed.

"I know you are lying old man," the commander expressed and he pointed his black dagger at Algrim.

"Why? Why would I lie? I stopped the fighting to protect the few people we have left. We've lost too many, please," he said his hand rubbed his chest. He felt around at his damaged ribs.

He shook his head, "King Loki said that more than 3 million people live in the Imperial City...this is no where that many..." his black eyes looked around in a scrutinizing fashion.

"You master and Loki and you slaughtered them!" Algrim hollered. "I can't bring them back from the dead!" Algrim started to sob.

A Dark-Elf soldier marched up to his leader. He leaned against him, "Dawn swiftly approaches, let us gather the people and take them to the square," he spoke in their native language.

The commander gave a grunt. "Gather them!" He declared, "Move them out quickly," he ordered. Immediately his soldiers began doing so. The Valkyrie and the Einherjar did not resist arrest. They allowed themselves to be taken captive one by one. Even Volstagg and Lady Sif allowed themselves to be shackled. To keep from more innocents being killed and to save Prince Thor. If the Dark-Elves set off any more bombs it could have easily blown out the back wall where the infirmed were hiding.

The Dark-Elves were rough. They held their blasters at the citizens of Asgard, they held them up to the faces of children. They cracked whips and pointed swords at the backs of men and women. Some of the people tried to run, it was just pure instinct, but the Dark-Elves though fewer in number herded them like cattle. The Dark-Elves weren't above pushing or shoving an elderly citizen to the ground or taking a maiden and grabbing her by the waist and hoisting her over their shoulders. Many of the warriors became enraged watching the treatment of their people. They having to watch the people of Asgard submit to such abominable treatment. They were the warriors of Asgard and the sworn protectors of their people.

A Dark-Elf soldier prodded a young Einherjar with an electro rod to get him moving. The young Viking let out a scream, not merely from the pain of the weapon. He was a strong and eager knight with simple shaggy brown hair. He could have easily turned around and drop kicked the enemy soldier. His hand balled into a tight fist. His whole body tensed. His jaw and shoulders became tight. Volstagg walked up behind him. The Einherjar General was clapped in irons. As best he could he put a steadying hand on the young soldier's forearm. He nodded at him. Einherjar were taught and trained to never settle for the path of least resistance. "It's ok," the red-bearded Einherjar General assured him, "Remember the plan," he told him. As Volstagg was speaking one of the Dark-Elves came up behind him and clobbered him over the head to silence him. The pudgy warrior tumbled to ground.

"Volstagg!" Lady Sif called out as she saw her friend fall. One of the soldiers of Svartalfhiem had handcuffed the shield-maiden and had her with her hands behind her back. Such a position wasn't really a compromised position for the female Einherjar, She knew how to fight with her hands tied behind her back. She could fight with her hands and foot tied behind her back. But that wasn't the point. Striking another Dark-Elf would only cause more bloodshed. This was going to be a bloody day. She had no doubt about that. She'd been on the battlefield before. She'd been in some of the bloodiest battles in all of Asgard's history. She'd smelled the scent of death, she'd tasted blood and she'd felt that horror. But until just a few days ago all of that bloodshed had been off of Asgard's shores. And if anymore blood was shed before the time was right then it could be the death of all Asgard. So she would refrain. She would keep from drop kicking the bastard Dark-Elf behind her, for now until the right moment. She gritted her teeth and struggled and started to run to her fallen companion. She watched as Volstagg pushed himself up off the ground. He shook his head, but managed to raise it enough to turn to Sif and give a half smile to let her know that he was alright.

And so they marched. The Dark-Elves who ranked in only a band of about 200 soldiers marched nearly 3000 Aesir out of their protected underground bunker. They led them away all as captives to be audience to witness the death of their beloved Prince Thor. They bound the Aesir warriors in chains. They poked and prodded and ridiculed the other citizens. All the while the Dark-Elves sang a victory drinking song. They rejoiced in the fact they had waited more than 2000 years and now they were finally going to get their moment of glory.

"THAT'S IT! THAT'S IT!" Yelled the commander of the Dark-Elves shouted and jeered over the drinking song of his men. He laughed his cruel sickening laugh. He threw his head back and bellowed. "ROUND THEM UP! EVERY SINGLE ONE!" he instructed. "Don't you leave one behind!" he ordered. "Get them to the square! Get them! Get them!" he demanded as he clapped his hands and stomped his feet. "Dawn swiftly cometh, men!" the commander remind his troop. "Our hourly of glory is at hand," he decreed and rubbed his hands together.

"STOP!" cried Lord Algrim from underneath the commander's boots. "You don't have to beat them," he called and coughed. "They are coming willingly, please," Lord Algrim pleaded as he continued to hear whips being cracked and electric shockers going of and her heard bloodcurdling screams and agonized groans and babies crying.

The commander of the Dark-Elves chuckled to himself. He squared his shoulders proudly. "Yes," the leader nodded. "Maybe to willingly," he muttered as he finally stepped of the elderly Light-Elf's chest. Lord Algrim still lied on the ground panting and gasping for breath. Sigyn came and tried to tend to him. He shook his head as her tender hands roved over his wounds. The Dark-Elf commander was wearing jackboots with spikes in the souls that had dug into Lord Agrim's chest and nearly punctured his heart.

Sigyn feverishly patted him down and he gestured toward his left side and signaled for her to feel around. She didn't know what she was feeling for, but she followed his instructions as best she could. "No, no, no," the Prime Minister of Asgard wagged his head, his ears drooped. His breathing was labored. "The people...the people just want a chance to see Prince Thor one last time." he told truthfully. Finally, Sigyn, dug into the right pocket and found what Lord Algrim wanted her to find, a healing crystal. She quickly tried to slip from the concealed folds of his cloak. She noted that there were three but she only managed to slip one out of his pocket.

The Dark-Elf commander stooped down. He didn't pay any heed to lady Sigyn being there, he snatched up the Prime Minster of Asgard, by one hand and yanked him off of the floor so that his feet dangled in the air just above the cobblestones. The healing crystals fell from his cloak. Algrim's chest was aching, but he managed to bob his head and nod. Once again the Dark-Elf tossed Algrim aside, his body was light and frail and the Dark-Elf commander was strong. He flung Algrim into a pillar and the Head of Asgard's High Council, flopped down like a rag doll.

"Lord Algrim!" Sigyn shouted. She tried to scramble toward him, but the commander caught her by the foot and pulled her toward himself. Lady Sigyn kicked and struggled and crawled at the ground. She desperately reached around for something to grab onto to fling at the Dark-Elf. "GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!" she yelled. "Let me go! Let me go!" she cried.

"Come with me or die," the Dark-Elf gave her an ultimatum.

"Kill me!" the daughter of Admiral Arn roared back.

"Oh, I do like them fiery," the fiend declared as he pulled her to himself and held to her fast. "I haven't been with a woman in so long," he stated as his soulless eyes roved over the exposed flesh of her legs and thighs from her tattered garment. "Maybe I'll have you after the victory feast," he nodded to himself.

"NO! No!" Sigyn yelled as she tried to push away. "Algrim! Lord Algrim!" she continued to call to the slumped over body next to the pillars. The commander continued to drag her away while tears streamed down her face. One of the other Dark-Elf soldiers rushed over to the commander and told him that all the Aesir hand been rounded up and were being driven out.

"Good. Now torch this place," he ordered.

"NO!" Sigyn hollered.

---

"Jane Foster," Hogun's gruff voice broke through the marching of Asgard's top magicians and scholars on their trek to the palace. They had to take a hidden route through the catacombs and that led to the back part of the Imperial City to get to the palace. The tunnel of the covered a good bit of ground under the city. At one point the catacombs had been designed to run through most of the city, but that had been in ancient times, when the Imperial City had just been built. Since then there were many new sectors of the city that had no entrance way to the catacombs. "We will be approaching the outside of the palace soon." the quiet warrior stated. "If we exit in about another mile or so we should come on the back far north side of the palace," he explained.

"If my calculations are correct," began Lord Drek, "When the alignment begins it will start right at the base of the Bifrost," He explained. "By the time the Convergence is at its peak it will be directly over the palace."
"We'll only have a small margin of time. The window is very small and Convergence only last for a few hours," the young enchanter, Bardok explained.

"We won't have a few hours," Lady Leoma expressed as she rushed up on the group that was moving as hurriedly as they could through the catacombs. "We have to act quickly," she urged. She put her hand on Jane's shoulder. "This plan of yours, Lady Jane has to work within the first hour. Because...Because if we don't," she said with a gulp. "Well...well...then it'll be too late," she expressed as he shoulders slumped. She was still carrying the reactor on her back.

"Too late..." Jane echoed as she shifted the reactor rod on her back to her other shoulder. She followed Hogun who carefully and skillfully lead the group through the winding underground tunnels.

"Yes," Lady Leoma said with a stern voice. "If Malekith releases the Aether and it makes it to spread across three realms...it won't matter, the effects will be irreversible," the Aesir mathematician explained.

"We have to keep the Aether from spreading," Bardok urged.

"Of course, of course," Jane nodded to herself moreso than her new found friends. "We just keep the Aether from being sucked through the Convergence for one hour or it's the end of the world as we know it...great...no pressure" she went on.

"It will be end of the Universe as we know it," Lord Drek, the bald and muscular scholar reminded her.

"But yes, no pressure," said Lady Leoma as she put a steadying had on Jane's shoulder and flashed her with a beautiful and genuine smile. Reflexively, the corners of Jane's mouth pulled upward into a smile. She wondered if it looked an awkward and as plastic as she felt wearing it. Lady Leoma was relatively young and very pretty. She nodded and continued to pat Jane on the shoulder, "yes, yes, yes, this is wear the fun truly begins" she encouraged. Then she marched on. She went back to the group of young scholars that she was with. Young mathematicians that were still going over the facts and figures for how to distance the reactors while the were marching. Jane shook her head. This woman was a scholar like herself, a scientist, why was she so gung-ho for war? She wondered if all Asgardians truly had battle in their blood? She supposed it was different for them. Their lives were so long and their bodies so much stronger than that of a human that perhaps they didn't fear death from battle the way human's did. They weren't immortal, she had witnessed that first hand. She'd seen so many of them die. They died, gasping and crying, shivering and fighting for life, they died with tears in their eyes and goodbyes on their lips just like human's did. There was no true difference. They certainly didn't want to die. They wanted to live that was the who point of what they were doing...the Aesir wanted to live, she supposed every being in the universe wanted to live as long as a life as possible, but the Aesir had concluded that they had a better chance of living fighting than they did just sitting around hiding and trying to be safe. But Jane wasn't Aesir. She was simply a person, a mortal woman. And every fiber of her mortal being was starting to fill with terror and dread.

They only had a 9.2335 percent chance of being successful. Not even a full 10 percent. She knew it and she knew all the wisemen and women of Asgard knew it too. They said it once and that was it, but the number still lingered in her mind. She wanted to try, of course. She wanted to try because they had to try. If they didn't try then that would be it. Kaput. There'd be no hope for anyone anywhere. The Realms would be plunged into Darkness. That would mean death for everyone at some point. Lifeforms could not survive without light. So, they had to try to do something even though their chances of success were very, very slim. If they failed maybe most of the Aesir would die, but not all, they were a strong and hearty people and the Dark-Elves wouldn't be able to dominate over other races if they wiped them out completely. Some Aesir would survive, she was sure. They had made sure that some of the people had a fighting chance by moving their ranks to the forest. But even if on the odd chance that they managed to pull this little plan off there was still a great chance that she most certainly would be killed. Yup, there it was. Plain and simple. Cold, hard facts. She was a scientist. She liked facts. She liked figures. She liked the numbers. The numbers never lied. Oh, the contrary, numbers were brutally honest. They hurt feelings. She'd run the numbers in her head since they'd started walking down the hidden underground corridors. She only had a .63% chance of survival. That was it. It was terrifying she didn't even have one percent. She recalled the words of Loki, that villain. He was a liar she knew, but he wasn't lying when she told her that she was a mortal who didn't belong there.

She was just an astrophysicist from New Mexico. Sure, she had several PhD's, but what did that really mean? They'd prepared her to look at stars, but they hadn't prepared her to travel among them. They surely hadn't prepared her to fight and evil race of Dark-Elves with a 2000 year old grudge and cultish fetish for an evil gem. Of course not. She'd never done battle before. She'd never even been in a fist fight. This whole time she'd been trying to convince herself that she'd had some experience. That she'd been there in New Mexico when the Destroyer had arrived and almost blown up her small town. She'd handled that, right? Wrong, she then recalled the fact that she hadn't done any fighting. She'd just run away. She'd been there when the Dark-Elves first rammed their aircraft into the spires of the palace towers, but once again she hadn't fought. She hadn't done anything but hide while a beautiful, strong, woman defended her to the death. She hadn't been any help. She'd just cowered behind a wall. Even when she went with Thor and the other Asgardian warriors to the Dark-World her only task was to be brave enough to allow Malekith to draw the Aether out of her, then she had been securely tucked away for her own safety. She thought of Loki's words. She'd hated him and resented every word that so carefully slid from his silver tongue, but all his words weren't lies. He was right that he said that she was a mortal, death was her condition and her being there put everyone at risk.

How was she going to hold her own? She was with some of Asgards finest enchanters and a few good warriors. But none of them really knew her well and she doubted they'd have any affinity to go above and beyond to protect her. Maybe Hogun would, he was Thor's friend and maybe her's in a loose sense of the word. Bardok was a kind young man and a capable wizard, he was trained by Loki after all, but he didn't see like much a of a fighter, would he fight for her? Someone told her that Lady Leoma was a mother of 8 and she certainly had a protective quality about her, perhaps she would look out for her on the battlefield, but that just made Jane feel even worse. If people were fighting to protect her they could be putting their own lives in even greater danger. She had already watched Lady Dagmar give her life protecting her. She was a healer and an ambassador and a friend and daughter...and a mother...she never even got to know her child. And it was her fault. She didn't know how long she could bear that kind of guilt. Jane's heart began to pound furiously. It was beating so rapidly and swiftly inside her chest that she was sure everyone around her could hear. Her stomach started twisting in terrible, mangled, tangled knots. She started wiping the tears away from her eyes she held her head down trying to fall back and get lost in the crowd. She had already been the cause of so many deaths. She knew it was because of her that these people had died. She should have never set foot on Asgard. All this calamity had befallen the innocent because of her. She couldn't handle it. She couldn't have any more of that on her conscience.

Jane cursed herself, she wished she would have never started looking for a way to reach Thor. It was silly and foolish. She was in love with him, but so what? Their feelings for each other weren't worth the destruction of worlds. Now Thor's very life was hanging in the balance. When the sun rose Thor could be dead. It wasn't worth it. Feeling his mighty, masculine muscles fold her in a warm embrace or have his beautiful blue eyes stare deep into her own wasn't worth all this death and tragedy. She shouldn't have ever searched for him. She should have just let him go. She should have just counted herself lucky that she had had the chance to know him and to have meant anything to him. Even if it was fleeting. In his life span their week together might have been a one-night stand, for her it could have been a life long love, but what did it matter?Their lives were about to be cut very very short now. She should have just been grateful to have ever had the chance to know him. She should have just been grateful that he'd ever taken any interest in her at all. She paled in comparison to most of the women of Asgard. She should have just counted herself lucky for the moment they shared instead of acting like a baby whining about the fact that he said he was coming back. How many girls got to date the senior quarter back in high school? How many people got to meet a prince or kiss a superhero. She should have just been grateful for the time they shared and not have tried to hold on to it.

Bitter tears started to role down her cheek. It was her fault. But she would do anything to make it right. "Whatever it takes," Jane Foster mumbled to herself.

"Did you say something?" Hogun asked.

"Oh," Jane gasped being pulled from her own panicking thoughts, "I no...I" she looked around most of the other people had fallen behind her and Hogun. She huddled closer to the quiet warrior. "Do you think we'll have to fight?" she asked breathlessly.

"Mmhmm," he simply nodded.

"I...I...I don't know how...I'm just scared..." she admitted.

"You have armor," Hogun observed.

"yes, but armor and no skills isn't much good," Lady Jane insisted.

Hogun's face remained serious and grim, "it is something," he replied.

"It's not all I have," Jane whispered. Hogun kept his torch held high and kept marching, but he turned to look at her. Jane then revealed the golden arrowd that were jewel studded with peacock feathers.

"Where did you get those?" Hogun inquired. His narrow eyes grew wide as they could.

"Sigyn, Lady Sigyn. She said...she said..."

"Those are a very powerful weapon," he admonished her and wagged his finger.

"I don't know anything about archery," she whispered to him. Her voiced strained to be low in the darkness.

"it is too late for a lesson," he answered back and she thought heard a tone of wry humor in his husky accented voice.

"What? You could show me something..." she was practically pleading. "Please," Jane's voice was sharp. "I'm the person who came up with this plan and I already feel bad enough that I'm putting everyone's life at risk. I want to be able to help fight," she insisted. "Please!"

"Uh huh," he shook his head.

"What do you mean," she clutched the elite warrior's arm. "Please, this isn't just for me it's for you and for everyone and Thor," Jane pleaded

"There's no time to learn," Hogun said as he looked down at her. Through the warm light of the torches all around he could see that her eyes were shinning with tears.

"I'm a fast learner," the auburn haired scientist stated.

"The arrow will do what needs be done Lady Jane," Hogun explained. He carefully patted her hands as he removed them from their tight grip on her arm.

Jane shook her head, her dirty hair slapped her in the face. She knew what Sigyn had said about the arrows being enchanted. She didn't know why, after all she had seen her scientific mind still had a hard time coping with things being made of pure magic. She had seen so many things. So many unbelievable things. Things that boggled the mind and simply could not be explained and yet she still couldn't shake ration. She supposed that is what got her into science in the first place. Of course her father's career had naturally fueled her interest. After her father passed away. It was all so quick, it was a blur. She remembered her mother taking solace in the words of friends and townsfolk and pastors who would stop by the house. Her father hadn't been a particularly religious man, but her mother and her attended church when she grew up. People spoke of death and another life after that, Heaven. With such certainty. When she looked up at the heavens she saw sky and sun and stars and planets. In a sense she thought that perhaps she became an astrophysicist to find out how faith and fact could somehow correlate. Even now she could feel that tendency creeping up and rising within her. Sigyn's "magic" arrows could have been magnetize or heat seekers on something of that like, but she still thought that she needed to have some skill.

"But," Jane's voice started once again.

"We are here," Hogun announced to her in a placid tone and he pointed to the roof above their heads. Jane reacted with a sharp gasp and a gaping mouth as her brown eyes darted up to look at the ceiling made of rock and rubble and brick and mortar. Immediately, the silent warrior came to an abrupt halt. He raised his left fist into the air to stop the Asgardian scholars and soldiers. Slowly, they fell into line obeying the command. There feet went silent. He repeated his words, "We are here," once more.

Lord Drek made his way through the crowd and went to stand next to Hogun, "Then we should be right under Odin's Throne Room," Lord Drek stated as he revealed a sphere. When he pressed the buttons on the sphere it folded back and projected a blue image of the inside of the palace. Hogun merely nodded.

"We should set up a good number of the reactors around the throne room," young Bardok explained. "But we shouldn't set all of them up there."

"Yes, yes," Jane finally pulled away from hiding behind Hogun's massive shoulders. "We need to have reactors strategically placed inside and outside of the palace, that way when you use your remote," she began as she held hers up, you can set it to react with other reactors and hopefully cause enough interference with the Convergence."

"Let's not also forget that these reactors can be used as a defense. They can transport bodies," Bardok continued. "They'll be able to teleport our enemies away. If we teleport them outside the palace, where most likely most of the fighting will take place, it will take the Dark-Elf soldiers a while to get back into the palace that will hopefully buy us some time."

"Remember we won't have much time to be bought," cautioned Lady Leoma. "Convergence will reach it's peak at noon and from there it will last for one entire hour. If we are not successful, if Loki and Malekith are..." her voice stuttered and she paused. "Then...it's...it's..."

"Then it is over," Hogun's husky voice announced and broke through the worried murmurs of the crowd. He looked out into the crowd of faces. These were many of Asgard's best and brightest. There were young warriors some who had just come into the ranks of Einherjar. They hadn't earned their feathers or crests yet. Maybe some never would. Some were so fresh-faced and young that they hadn't even sprouted the first few whiskers on their chin for a first shave. He continued to look on the company so many of Asgard's great minds. Asgard's scientist and scholars, magicians, mathematicians and alchemist, professors and wisemen and women. Some were just university students, but they had all come. They had all leant their minds and their talents to this great endeavor to this worthy cause. Normally, those of the scholarly class wore fine garments as one was able to make a great living in Asgard from such pursuits. They wore purple and scarlet and sometimes wore large silk turbans with ornate feathers and gemstones fixed on them. They wore flowing capes and cloaks and robes decorated with embroideries of stars and suns and moons denoting their status. Students from Asgard's most prestigious universities and school normally wore fashionable uniforms with the colors of their respective schools and programs. Now, now they all looked like an assorted band of refugees. Dirty and haggard, tired, they were bloodied and injured. And yet they were there. To give the best that their collective knowledge and wisdom had to offer. To follow the plan of a mortal. Such a thing would have been unthinkable for many Asgardians even a few weeks ago and now it was their only hope.

Lady Leoma nodded. She kept a stiff-upper-lip although her heart went out to think about her children and grandchildren. She wondered if she would ever see them again. She at least hoped that their efforts would allow her family to survive even if she didn't. The leading wisewoman cleared her throat. "We have one chance!" she reminded all the scholars and soldiers who were with them. "This is it. No do overs," she explained. "What you are doing, you are doing in defense of Asgard and for all the Nine Realms. You are doing thing for realms that have no idea what is even about to happen," she stated with a deep breath as she looked back at Jane. Jane gulped, but managed to give an affirmative nod back.

"I will go first," the Einherjar general announced. "I will make sure that the coast is clear."

Jane grabbed on to Hogun's shoulder. "But what if there are Dark-Elf soldiers?"

"I will give myself up to them," he replied with ease. "Hopefully they will not look any further than that," he shrugged.

"Stay quiet!" Lord Drek ordered, "and retreat to the sides of the wall," he showed them. He dropped down on his knees in the dirt. Lord Drek was a tall and stately man. In build alone he had the makings of a fine warrior. He rolled himself over to the catacomb wall and crouched down like a child. He looked uncomfortable as he huddled and squatted like a child with his back pressed deep against the mud wall.

"Douse the torches!" Young Bardok expressed and the band of a good more than 500 followed suit. They blew out their torches or stuffed them into the mud beneath their feet. Soon the deep tunnel of the catacomb was shrouded in darkness. It was a darkness that was so thick that soon most could not even see their hands in front of their faces. In the darkness the scuttled and scooted and crouched down with their bodied pressed in the dirt like worms.

Hogun was the only one left standing. He too blew out his torch as well and then the tunnel was a complete abyss. The troops, the scholars and the enchanters all fell silent as they could. They waited in the narrow tunnel with baited breath for what they couldn't see as Hogun raised his sword toward the mixed mud and rubble ceiling of the tunnel and started to dig through. The member of the famous Warrior's Three sword was a deadly sharp blade and it immediately was able to pierce through the hardened mud and slice through the broken bricks and left over ruins of ages passed that made up the underbelly of the city that made up the ceiling of the catacomb. He kept poking and prodding and twisting and twirling his sword viciously and vigorously, doing his best to cut through the rocks. Hogun worked silently only allowing a few grunts and groans to slip through his lips as the stones toppled down on top of him. Some struck him in the head and on the shoulders. Eventually, the tip of Hogun's sword struck something that felt like granite. After that he pulled out his mace. He began to swing the spiked ball at the ceiling and break up the area a little bit more so as to make a sizable hole that could fit his whole body. He swung his blade, hard and heavy and it pounded against the dirt ceiling as rubble rained down on not only Hogun but on the rest of troop as well. Hogun was swinging so viciously he scarcely noticed.

"Hold it up! Hold it up!" Bardok ordered the rest of the mages. Even though it was dark and they could not see in front of them they all lifted their hands toward the roof of the catacomb and with their powers like an invisible shield they held it up and allowed General Hogun to break up enough fallow ground to squeeze his body through. He leaped up with the agility of a grasshopper. He pulled himself up through the dirt. He pushed hard on the granite. It didn't budge at first. He pressed harder and harder. He should have expected more resistance. Naturally, the floorboards of the palace weren't made to be infiltrated. The silent warrior drew out one of his curved daggers and began scratching at the bottom of the granite until he found the cracks. He then wedges his silver dagger between the cracks. He jiggled the dagger and loosed the floorboards so that he was finally able to move the one tiles. He carefully pressed the tile and it moved and lifted and he closed his eyes as his head poked up from the floor.

Hogun prepared himself for the worst. He would give himself up to the Dark-Elves if it gave the rest of the group a chance to escape. Maybe the could make it to the outer wall of the palace without him. Of course they could. He opened his eyes, prepared to see ghost white masks with black pit eyes staring back at him. Instead, he saw no one. He saw nothing. Hogun blinked a few times. He scanned the room. He held his dagger tightly in his hands. He was ready for one of the bloodless fiends to attack. He could take out one or two with a swift throat cut. It would cause enough of a distraction. So much so that maybe the warriors of Svartalfheim wouldn't look for others. He waited carefully for a few moments. He pulled himself up. He allowed his head to poke all the way through the floor. He braced himself for an ambush or for those terrible blasters to start firing off, but nothing. Nothing. Nothing and no one. He was sure of it now. They weren't there. He didn't smell them. The Dark-Elves had a distinct scent and not necessarily a pleasant one. It was a stale smell. It was heavy and mixed with the smell of smoke. It smelled like their planet, rotten. Still, the silent member of Thor's band pulled himself up so that his whole body was standing in Odin's Throne room. He put aside his tiny dagger and pulled out his mace. His preferred weapon. He looked around at the room. Many of the pillars were still knocked down from when the Dark-Elves had first come smashing through the palace walls a few weeks ago. There was rubble and brokenness. The pillars made of gold and ivory lied crumbled. There were holes, craters and cavities left in the walls and the floor from where the Dark-Elves had shot of their rifles. Asgard had many advanced weapons, but such lethal means were considered unlawful unless an act of war had been declared. Those weapons lied safe and protected deep within Odin's weapons vault. The palace guards didn't normally carry them. They had the Destroyer. The robot should have been able to take out the ancient scum with one blast. But when the Dark-Elves had attacked it had been too late. There was nothing that anyone could do. There was blood on the floor. The color was rusted red. The blood was old now. Dried and cracked and soon to be apart of the architecture. It was splattered on the walls and on the columns and it was lost in the crevices and cracks of the granite tile. Hogun thought that Odin and Frigga had commissioned that the blood be cleaned before the grand funeral that they'd had for all the fallen, but maybe the servants had missed spots or maybe they were just too traumatized. It could have been the blood of nobles or the blood of servants who had been innocently walking through. It could have been the blood of peasants. People who had probably never had the chance to come to the palace before, but had finally had the opportunity to get their cases appealed to be heard by Asgard's High Council or maybe even Odin himself. Those people had probably been so happy and excited to come to the palace for the first time...people who lived in the towns and provinces and shires outside of the Imperial City. They had probably boasted to their friends and family thinking that they would have exciting stories to share. Those were stories that never got the chance to be told.

Hogun shook his head and trodded softly over the tiles. His feet moving soundlessly, just in case. He saw more blood closer to the thrown. This blood looked fresher. The color was deeper and richer, it was more clustered and in clumps. He thought of what Lord Algrim had told them about Loki rounding up the members of Asgard's High Council and wanting them to proclaim him and crown him king of Asgard. Initial refusal was met with a swift cut down. Some of Asgard's leaders had not survived. This could have been their blood. He could scarcely recall Lady Sigyn's lovely soprano voice muttering in hushed tones about a friend of hers that she'd seen Loki murder ever so ruthlessly. She'd said his name, Dyson. Dyson, he remembered him. He was young boy who used to work at the stables. He wasn't a child any longer. He was a young man who had grown up and had moved up to being a palace guard, no easy feat now he had been cut down in his prime. For what. For Loki's bloodlust?

The quiet Einherjar general took a look at Odin's throne. Part of it was destroyed, crushed and crumbled from the impact of one of the vortexes that those guns had created. But still it sat, not completely obliterated. That throne from which so many Asgardian kings had dispensed justice and brought peace and stability and protection and respect and learning and culture to the Nine Realms. Hogun had counted it a privilege that he had been able to stand in the presence of a king to be able to stand on the dais as one of the princes' friends. He who was simply the son of drunken goatherds. He had had the chance to watch Odin sit on that throne and reign with wisdom and justice. He'd never gotten the chance to see his dear friend Thor sit on the throne, but he'd seen Loki. Loki who was a prince of Asgard. Loki who was Odin's son. Loki had been groomed to be a ruler and king just as much as Thor. He'd seen him sitting there and in the first moments he hadn't truly been against it, Loki was heir to the throne as well and he was smart he would have probably been a good leader. None of them had actually challenged Loki's right to rule or questioned his ability to function as king when he'd taken the throne the first time. They'd only wanted him to bring Thor back. Now Hogun wished he would have seen that snake in the grass for every evil thing that he was and cut him down. Perhaps in that regard he'd failed in his Einherjar duties. But he'd not let this band fail to do what needed to be done to save Asgard. He walked back to the lifted granite tile and bent down so that his head was sticking back into the catacomb. "The coast is clear," he stated.

Murmurs could be heard underground. "Clear! Clear? Clear?" the mages and scientists echoed.

"If he says its clear, it's clear," Jane stated finally. The other scholars seemed hesitant, but she crawled her way through the huddled dirty bodies and made her way to where Hogun's head hung low. Only a faint trail of light made its way into the catacomb, but it highlighted Hogun's face. It was stoic as ever. He reached his hand down toward her and she took it and allowed him to pull her up. She felt weightless as his strong arms lifted her. Soon more and more of the company started to emerge.

"Where are they?" questioned one young mage apprentice. He had his reactor rod slung over his back and his remote in his hand. He scratched his head as he puzzled the scene. The throne room which they had expected to be crawling with Dark-Elves.

"They've started to make their way toward the square," Lady Leoma. Through the crystal glass windows she could see the darkness starting to give way to morning. She gasped. All of a sudden her stomach was tangled in knots. "We don't have much time!"

"Quickly, quickly!" Jane insisted. She immediate planted her reactor rod behind one of the columns.

"Maybe this is all wrong," Said a knobby kneed young scientist. He was rather old and hobbled on a cane, but he had two reactors on his back. "We should be out in the town square!" he declared.

"No, this is where we need to be. Malekith will most likely release the Aether right from the center of the palace and this is it." Lord Drek expressed.

"Come on, let us not waste any more time. We only have a few moments and our whole world is counting on us," Bardok urged. He followed suit with Jane Foster and set up one of his reactors behind a column near Odin's throne. Soon many of the other's started to follow suit. Hogun started lending a hand to the younger scholars and feeble helping them plant their reactors firmly. It was hard to find places to cleverly conceal the rods, most of the throne room was open and several columns were down so they had to lay some of the reactors sideways as well.

'We should set up some in the halls and in the upper guestrooms of the palace," a young woman with snort hair and a pair of freshly broken spectacles suggested.

"There isn't enough time," Lady Leoma shook her head,

"Besides, I doubt the Dark-Elves will be taking a rest during the Convergence," Hogun said as he rolled his eyes. "We can set up some reactors by the main gate and court entrance," he said strategically.

"We also need to make sure that the bulk of these are set up outside the palace walls, around the perimeter," Lord Drek continued to explain. "Convergence will take place all around us and we want to cause as much interference as possible."

"Lord Drek, why don't you take some out to the palace perimeter. Make sure to spread out in your placements and set you reactors to the highest sensitivity setting so that if you are far away from the rods it can still pick up on the signal from the remotes," Jane Foster told them as she demonstrated on her own controller. The rest of the members of her company started turning the dials on their controllers. Right away Lord Drek took several more of the mages and scholars. They moved quickly. They raced against the clock out and ran to the courtyard to make their way and set up the offense that they had. Likewise, Jane Foster went with Bardok and Hogun to help with setting up the reactors near to entrance ways. They didn't have long but they did their best to double check and triple check the reactors. They turned them off and practiced timely transports of small objects like pebbles and coins and beads from their clothing. Jane smiled as she plucked one of embellishments from her armor she tossed it up in the air and then gave the largest knob on her remote a swift and decisive twist. There was a quick little flash the embellishment disappeared. And just then, Bardok reported that it had been transported toward the reactor closest to him.

Bardok rushed over to her. "It looks like everything is in order," he wiped his sweaty dark-haired Master Mage insisted. His eyes were tired as he rubbed his hands together and then clapped his hand on Jane's shoulder. "You've done well," he stated to her.

Jane was leaning over on her hands and knees. She was panting and gasping as she drove the point of the last rod deep within one of the cracks on the floor. Bardok offered a hand to help her to her feet. "I don't know if we can say that just yet," she admitted.

"Your idea has given us a fighting chance and a fighting chance is all a true Asgardian needs."

"Maybe that is true," Lady Jane admitted as she shrugged her shoulder. She looked out at the Brave enchanters who had come with her. Now, that everything was set up many of them seemed to be practicing their magic for a fight. Others who weren't inclined in that was were sharpening their knives and swords. "I'm not an Asgardian though," Jane confessed.

"You are one of us today," Bardok told her. "And if we win the day you will be one of us forever," He promised her with his hand firmly resting on her shoulder.

"Bardok, Lady Jane," Hogun jogged over to them interrupting their dialogue, just as Jane was about to give the young wizard a hug. "We must get into hiding. If they can't see us or the reactors we will have the best chance of taking them by surprise," he expressed.

---

Come on! Come on!" Frandal called as he waved several of the citizens of Asgard forward. The trek to get to forest had already been long and arduous. They had had to march the people at the hurried pace of soldiers. They had them crawling through the catacombs to make their way to the outside of the city gates and then hiking through some of the ruined homes on the outskirts of the city. It was a hard walk many of the citizens broke down and collapsed at seeing the sights of their dilapidated homes and ruined dwellings. There were people who were missing loved ones. Old women tried to rush back into their homes to find their husbands or children. Who had accompanied citizens had to put up their shields and staffs to barricade the people.

"NO! NO! Please!" One elderly Asgardian woman cried. She was somewhat chubby and despite her advanced years her hair was only partially gray. She had been walking with a few family members. They had been supporting her as best they could trying to help her stand and make the walk across the broken cobble stone ground where glass shards were and rocks and iron bits of debris were scattered all around. When she saw her house the was still going up in flames she screamed. "My cat! My cat!" she hollered. "I know she's still in there, I...I...I just know it," she immediately tore away from her relatives and went rushing toward the burning building.

"Aunt Akina," her nephews called after her. They started to chase her. They pushed against the stream of people marching onward. They old woman hobbled and ran pass people nearly knocking them down. A few soldiers tried to intercept her, but somehow she managed to barrel right pass them. She leaped for the opportunity to grab her beloved pet. It was only Heimdal who managed catch her. The mighty gatekeeper's strong chestnut colored arms scooped her up and held her fast. For a minute her chubby legs were kicking in the air rushing to get back to a falling house.

"My cat! My cat!" she blubbered as tears ran down her dirty cheeks.

Heimdal's bright gold eyes housed pity for the woman. "The cat is gone."
"Nononon," she shook her head vigorously. "Not Cleopher," she sniffled. "Not my Geog," she muttered to name of her husband. "My pearls, my pearls, my Geog got me pearls, the only pair I had...I...I...I must get them," she muttered deliriously, her fingers reaching out over Hiemdal's shoulders as stared at the fire.

"Aunt Akina," one of her nephews finally caught up to her. He was out of breath. He had a patch on his eye. A recent injury that had occurred since the attacks. His one eye saw the old woman crying into Heimdal's golden armor. He watched as the illustrious gatekeeper rubbed her back. They were a simple family of butchers and bakers. They had made good livings, but they were never the kind that mingled with the noble citizens of Asgard. The nephew was about to grab his aunt and pull her away, but he saw the way Asgard's Gatekeeper was comforting the old woman and how he held up his hand. "Aunt Akina," he expressed quietly, "Come, come," he tried to pull her away.

"That's my house! That's my house!" she repeated as she watched the poor building go up in smoke. "We have to save it," she insisted, "haven't you a canteen of water? Oh just some water for your auntie? To save the house,"

"It's gone," he told her. And he watched it. It wasn't a large place, but it was well made and he had spent many days there. He'd learned about baking from his aunt and uncle. Being a baker certainly smelled a lot better than being a butcher.

"But it's all I have...it's all I have," she went on. "Where's Geog?" Her eyes were wide and she looked around at the group of weary souls doing their best to get away from the city.

"Aunt, you know he is gone," younger man expressed he covered the woman with a ragged drape.

She shook her head and then nodded. His body had not been found among the living or even among the dead. He could have simply been obliterated by the Aether. Oh it was all so monstrous. "He built this house for me, you know. He built this house for me. Not of brick and stone, but of love...and now its gone...it's all gone,"

"I know...I know," the man said as he cast one more backward glance at the burning house. The flames growing higher and bits and pieces of the house falling off and crumbling into ash.

"I have nothing to come back to," she stated as she leaned into her nephew's chest. Heimdal took his eyes off of them. He was a man who stood tall like a mountain and yet his heart sank low like it was falling into a valley. He was Asgard's Gatekeeper. He had been entrusted with the sacred duty of guarding this magnificent realm. Not only protecting the royal family and their interest, but all the people he had allowed everyone s treasures to be destroyed and it was for that he doubted he would ever forgive himself. He made his way toward the rear of the caravan and made sure to protect the people who were trying to escape from ruin that was likely to follow.

Frandal stood closer to the front of the group. He counted the people. It was important to know how many they had. He noted how many single women were strolling by. Many of who were young and fertile, capable of bearing children and rebuilding the population if necessary. There were several pregnant women who were unaccompanied by male escorts. The blonde-swordsman raised his eyebrow as he noticed them traipsing by. There was something devastatingly attractive about pregnant women. Especially under these circumstances. They were surrounded by death but these women housed life. "Here, milady, allow me to help you," Frandal said as he reached out his hand to help one pregnant woman who was climbing over the rocks and rubble on the mountainside to get to the forest.

She eagerly took his hand. She was a pretty woman although one could hardly tell. She was covered with bruises and dirt. She didn't even have on shoes and her feet looked like blood pulps. She practically melted right into him as he pulled her up. Their eyes met. He offered her a dashing smile that made her heart flutter. "Oh Sir Frandal," she swooned. "I'm so happy that we have you with us," she confessed.

"of course, my lady," he nodded.

She stumbled. "Oh, I don't think that I have the strength to go on," she mumbled as she looked down at her bloody feet.

"You must for your baby's sake," dashing blonde responded.

"I can't walk anymore sir, I can't!" she placed her hand on her head.

"Then, I will carry you," he insisted.

"What, no, you couldn't possibly! I'm as big as a whale and I'll break your back!"

"Haha! Have you not heard the tales of my exploits?" He asked. "When Prince Thor and I were in Alfheim, I had to carry the Rock of Times on my back. Now that my dear lady was as big as whale. Have no fear. Hop on." The woman gave a slight chuckle, but nodded thankfully and crawled on Frandal's back. She held on tight as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Frandal laughed, it was always a delight to feel a woman's arms around himself. "Well since we are getting so close, I might as well know your name, my lady?" The blonde swordsman laughed.

"Izette Quindottir," she murmured in his ear.

"Your name is almost as lovely as you are," Frandal couldn't help, but say.

Izette leaned her chin into the crook of his neck, "Oh you flatter me, Sir Frandal," she breathed. It felt so good to be off her feet for a moment. "I must admit after having the chance to see you in person, your reputation was not lacking," she expressed.

A smile rippled across his handsome lips. He cleared his throat and shook his head, "Now it is you who is becoming the flatterer, my lady. I cannot imagine your husband would take kindly to our comments," he reminded her.

"I have no husband..." she stated.

"I...I...I...well...there's nothing to be ashamed of..." Frandal started.

"I had a husband. A palace scribe..." she stated. "He...he...he was killed in the first attack," she said and then broke into a blubbering sob. The blonde-haired casanova once more found himself at a loss for words. He could not remember the incident happening many times in his life. He heard the young woman crying. She was sobbing into his shoulder tears soaked into his singed tunics.

"There, there, Izette...It'll be alright...we'll make it right...your husband...all our people...they'll be avenged," he tried to explain to her. He thought that he must have said something to comfort her because her crying seemed to have ceased. He said some more things. He hardly knew what he was saying... "Izette? Izette?" Frandal called to the woman on his back only to notice that her breathing had slowed and she had fallen asleep. He was glad for it because he hardly knew what to say to her.

They walked on a little further him and a few other soldiers leading the way for the citizens of Asgard. Frandal allowed the other soldiers among them to take the lead. He allowed himself to lag behind so that he soon was met by Heimdal. Asgard's gatekeeper greeted him with hardly a smile, "It seems you have picked up some extra weight," he inclined his head toward the young woman on his back.

"She couldn't carry on," Frandal expressed.

"Many are growing faint, but we must press on," the brown-skinned warrior stated.

"We won't reach the forest by first light. Dawn is nearly here and honestly we need to go back and help Sif and Volstagg and the Einherjar," he insisted. "We've lost so many, we need every person if we don't want to lose the whole realm."

"If we were all in the Imperial City then we would risk losing even more," Heimdal expressed.

"I should go back then," Sir Frandal insisted. "You know I can't see my friends fight and possibly risk their lives while I'm safe in the woods." He stated.

"I too long to be there fighting with the rest of our forces," Heimdal confirmed. Frandal raised his eyebrow. He had known the revered guardian all his life. He had been one of his early teachers, but the man had never been one to rush to war. "I should be the one to give my life," he pointed to himself. "More than anyone," He confirmed. "I'm responsible for all this carnage. If I...If I would have seen,"

"Heimdal, you know that this is not your fault. It never has been and none of the Asgardians blame," Frandal placed his had on Heimdal's broad shoulders that were covered in heavy tarnished golden armor.

"I'm blame myself, Frandal," Heimdal confessed. "I am Asgard's gatekeeper, I am supposed to be the first line of defense for us."

"You are! The only person to blame for this massacre is Loki." Frandal reported. He had always considered Prince Loki a friend. They grew up together and they had shared many laughs so many times. He often enjoyed Loki's pranks. They certainly made for good stories. He also was one of the first to admit in private that Loki's powers though not those typical for a young Asgardian prince often had helped them in their battles and scrapes and misadventures. He had been the one who defended Loki when Hogun had suggested that it was he who lt the Jotun's into Asgard. Sure Loki liked mischief, but Loki would never betray the people of Asgard that way. He would have never possibly jeopardized the lives of his friends like that. He wouldn't possibly risk his own family. That's what he'd thought of Loki then. Now he thought nothing of Loki. He saw him for what he was, he was a shape-shifting snake. And when he shed his skin it was revealed truly how awful and serpentine he was. "We'll make him pay," Frandal swore. He turned his head and looked at the beautiful pregnant woman who was exhausted on his back.

"The most important thing is saving Prince Thor and keeping our people safe. And that is what our role is Frandal," Master Heimdal explained.

Frandal nodded. As an Einherjar his sworn duty was to defend the crown, the Aesir people and then the people of the Nine Realms. Others of his comrades were doing what they could to defend the Crown Prince, he had to take his post to defend the people of Asgard. But it was no easy request for the master swordsman when there was a fight to be had. "The people will be safe in the woods," said Frandal. He grunted and strained as he climbed up a steep hill with the unconscious woman on his back. He tried to be careful so as not to jostle her too much. "I doubt that Malekith will think to send his battalion here to the forest to look for more people. Especially when the Einherjar give him Helhiem," the golden-haired fencer said with a wink and charming smile.

"Malekith doesn't know our ways, but Loki does. He may figure that some of the people have retreated to the safety of this forest. That is why we still need some strong soldiers here to protect the people," Heimdal insisted.

"if Loki loses then he won't have that option and if Loki wins...well...it won't matter. He won't bother sending troops to look for us," Frandal stated.

Heimdal nodded, he waved his hands and allowed several people to press forward a head of him. There were groups of children who were huddled together all without parents. One little boy who was shoeless stumbled, he tripped and started to cry. The giant of a gatekeeper immediately stooped down and with a kindly smile scooped up the trembling child. He hoisted the lad onto his shoulder. "Perhaps you are right General Frandal, but we are not out of the woods yet. In fact we are not even in the woods," He explained. "Before you rush back to the fight we must make sure all the people are to safety and it is nearly daylight... we must hurry."

Frandal nodded and rushed on a head of the gatekeeper. He moved to the front of the crowd making sure to be seen leading the people up and over the mountains. Heimdal allowed himself to fall back a bit making up the rear with some other soldiers. He was far away from his post on the Bifrost. His powers were weakened here, but he could see a little. The image that formed before his eyes was hazy. He didn't know if It was because of the Aether ash that swirled around and released its dark powers or if it was simply because he was so far away from the Bifrost. Still he could see something. He focused his gaze and was like a hawk. He could see that there was an army. They were about 10 miles away. But they were taking a main paved road heading north. But the army was swiftly approaching. He could see and hear the horses running at full speed. They were a huge force. They had many mighty men and horses and chariots and tanks. Heimdal's heart was immediately gripped. He froze in his tracks.

"Master Heimdal," one soldier noted how the stately guardian had come to a standstill he stared off in the distance. "Is everything alright?" He was carrying an electro-staff. His other arm was in a sling.

Heimdal shook his head "I don't think so," he muttered. The child who was hoisted on top on the great guardian's shoulder's eyes grew wide.

"What? What do you mean?"

Heimdal's golden eyes were wide. His eyelids did not blink. "I see am army approaching," his deep voice reverberated quietly.

"An arm?" the soldier said as he tightened his grip on his staff. "But...but...but how can that be? I...I...Malekith can't have that many forces to split them up like that. He can't have enough men for them to come in such great numbers," the soldiers stated.

"I don't know," Heimdal shook his head. "Whoever they are they are powerful. I can see that they are full of rage," Heimdal went on to inform. The little boy clutched onto the gatekeepers neck. "We must sound the alarm," Heimdal urged. Without a moment's hesitation, the soldier nodded. The little boy on Heimdal's shoulder watched as the tall young Einherjar's Adams apple bobbed within his throat. Then he pulled out a small goat's horn from the sheath of his belt. He allowed his staff to drop. He puckered his lips and placed the horn to them. He blew in the horn loudly. It was not a melodic sound. This horn played no tune, but the sound was alarming. The boy hadn't heard anything like it before. Its sound resounded over the mutters and moans and groans and wails of the crowd of Imperial City refugees.

A/N: READERS! You made it! Whoa, I know that was a long one, but give yourself a round of applause that you made it to the end. Also I know...I...I know I was expecting this to be the final chapter, but what can I say the story isn't done til its done and at least we did get a little battle scene ;) I figure that since many of the worlds lockdowns and quarantines are still in place that you all wouldn't mind another chapter ;) Also I wanted to just say that many of us all over the world are facing unprecedented times and circumstances. Our world is going through something the likes of which we have never seen before. This is for many of us like something from a movie. It seems like something from a Marvel movie. A horrific imaginary threat that we would look for our onscreen heroes, the Avengers to save us from. But unfortunately, this is no movie and all though there are many real life heroes out there. There are brave men and women, doctors and nurses, police officers and firefighters, store clerks and many others on the frontlines who are fighting to keep us all safe every day. I salute them for all their valiant efforts. But even all that they do is not enough. As this pandemic continues I hope it because evident to people all over the world how desperate we truly are for a hero, that hero is JESUS CHRIST!HE is the only one who can save us in this life. He has all power in his hands. And we desperately need him. This pandemic makes it evident that time is winding up and Jesus Christ will be returning to rapture his church and take us away from this world. If you would like to know more about JESUS CHRIST please message me. Everyday I continue to pray for the safety of the frontline workers and for an end to this disease. Jesus loves you. He wants to save you and wants you well. Be blessed. Stay Safe. #stayhome #alonetogether.

Your friend,

Kalimecat.

PS: next chapter should be the complete final battle yayayay!