Sigr Edda

by fina5

In Norse Mythology, the goddess Sigyn is the wife of Loki. In the MCU, she is a peasant that inadvertently gains the attention of the God of Mischief. As she falls for him over the course of a few decades, she will be forced to choose between her loyalty to Asgard and her devotion to the Allfather's traitor son. Events span from before the first Thor movie to past Endgame.

18. Death

And the conclusion of Thor: The Dark World! CW for light smut.

Please read, review, and enjoy!

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Death

On their way home from the funeral, having decided after some debate to stay in her house for their last night in Asgard, Sigyn drags a heavy feeling of anguish along with her. For most of her life, she'd known that she would one day have to send her mother off to the next world. After learning of her prophecy, she'd been foolish enough to believe she'd gained respite from such an experience, but fate has dealt her yet more misfortune.

Eventually, she catches sight of Quimby's house beside her own, and a recollection of the conversation she'd had with him earlier comes to her mind.

Quimby had led her into his bedroom, closing the door behind her after she'd stepped over its threshold. She'd given him an expectant look. "I'm assuming the news is bad?"

His face scrunching up, he had admitted, "It is not the greatest." Unbothered, she'd gestured for him to get on with it. "The king already has all the soldiers he can spare out looking for you, and I took notice of them searching your house when I came in."

She'd nodded, not surprised in the least. "What of the Lieutenant Arvid?" It had been her own lieutenant who Loki had chosen to impersonate, and she'd certainly wished no ill will upon him. He needn't have been punished for her treason.

Quimby had laid her worries to rest. "No one suspects him. Everyone seems to have gathered that it was the Prince Loki in disguise helping you at the hospital." Pleased, she'd nodded again. Quimby had continued, "To that end, people are reluctant to sell you out. They're refusing to speak to the men the King Odin has out searching."

Taken aback, she'd blinked in overt surprise. "Why?"

"Everyone in Asgard has a family member or friend in the military," he'd explained, speaking as though the answer is obvious. "You saved the military hospital. I heard someone saying that over a hundred people—maybe more—would've perished had you not gotten there when you did."

Sigyn had nodded, swallowing roughly. It smarts, she had thought, knowing that no matter how early she'd have gotten there, she couldn't have saved the one person there who mattered most to her. It'd been too late the moment the ship had struck the building, and she's never had a talent for clairvoyancy.

"There's something else," Quimby had commented, reclaiming her attention. He'd given her a level look, and she'd tried to prepare herself for the worst. "The Queen was another casualty in the attack."

Her hands had come up to her chest, bunching up the fabric of her shirt and gripping it tightly. "What happened?"

He'd explained, "It was the leader of the attack, Malekith, who dealt the blow. Something to do with a mortal woman the Prince Thor brought here. The funeral is tonight." His eyes had softened. "They've asked me to shoot the arrow for Walentyna. You're welcome to go in my place."

"Thank you," she'd said, heartfelt in her conviction if not a tad distracted. She was going to have to tell Loki that his mother was dead, and she had very much doubted that he would take it well.

"One more thing," he'd added, and she'd nodded. He'd taken a deep breath, as though bracing himself for something. "You don't have to leave at the end of this."

Fondly, she'd shaken her head. "Quimby, I broke him out of prison. I am dead if I stay."

"You're dead if you leave with him," he'd blurted out. She'd stepped back, surprised. He'd tried again. "Sigyn, he is mad."

"You don't—" she had started, though she'd been unable to finish.

"No, I know you're blinded by love, but please listen to me," Quimby had implored, stepping closer to her. "He is insane and has fed you to the wolves before in his pursuit of power. You cannot allow him to do it again when you're all alone with him."

"What would you have me do, then," she'd softly questioned, trying to quash down the bitterness rising in her. Quimby had only wanted what was best for her, she'd known.

"Take him back," he'd urged, much to her shock and fury. He'd went on, "Turn him into the Allfather, beg for forgiveness—"

Voice rising, she'd refused, "Absolutely not!"

Still, he had not ceased in his pleading. "You can say that it was a moment of urgency—that you needed out of the dungeons to do something heroic, and that freeing the Prince Loki was the only way."

"No," she'd intoned, as firm as she had ever been. "I will not betray him."

"He's not shown you the same loyalty," he'd reminded her, and she'd frowned before she could wince. What Quimby had been suggesting would have been a far more intimate betrayal than anything he'd done to her, she'd known. Turning him over to his father could have only spelled disaster, and she had not been sure that he would have forgiven her. Beyond that, however, she'd never had any plans of turning him in, only of leaving with him. She cannot be killed by anything Loki might do, she'd told herself, for she knew already the cause of her demise.

That last thought, morbidly comforting though it might have been to her, was one she couldn't in good conscious have told Quimby. In an exercise in restraint, she'd told him, "Thank you for your advice."

He'd made to say something else, but she'd no more patience for it. Without so much as a backwards glance, she had stormed from the room.

Now, Loki casts a glamor over them as they sidle up to her house, though the street is deserted as they enter it. She leaves the front door unlocked behind them, knowing that everything has to be left as it was when it was searched so as to not raise suspicion should anyone come looking for them here again. With that in mind, neither of them touches any of the open cabinets or overturned furniture as they silently make their way upstairs.

In the hall upstairs, away from any open windows, they drop their disguises, and Sigyn relishes shifting back into her own skin. It'd been strange strutting around in Quimby's body, his stature shorter and the span of his shoulders broader than that to which she is accustomed. It had been especially difficult to shoot an arrow in such a state.

She vanishes the door to her bedroom as soon as they're past it, leaving a blank wall in its place. If anyone decides to check up on them, they'll see only a hallway with a dead end, and unless they'd been here before, it wouldn't look out of the ordinary.

Breaking the silence between them, Loki says, "We can head out to Vanaheim in the morning. I have a contact there who'll let us lay low long enough to find more permanent accommodations before he runs to Odin."

Staring at the floor, Sigyn nods, though she doesn't voice her assent. "I think we should go to Svartalfheim," she quietly suggests.

Brow furrowing, he asks, "What?"

"The Dark Elf Malekith is the one who orchestrated today's attack. I think we should meet him in Svartalfheim and kill him," she explains, her voice replete with determination. She stares at him, daring him to question her.

He does. "You, Sigyn, want to kill someone?" He walks over to her, grinning wide. "How very unlike you."

"It's not everyday someone kills my mother. Exceptions are to be made," she replies, feeling dangerous. Her mother had been right; it does feel as though her actions have very few consequences to them now.

"So they are," he concurs. "Very well. Svartalfheim, then Vanaheim."

She nods her approval, and he takes that as being the end to their conversation. He moves over to bed, pulling back the covers almost all the way before she stops him. "Hey, wait," she says, and he draws up short. Looking over at her, he raises an eyebrow. She inquires, "What are you doing? Don't get into my bed wearing your day dress."

"I've worn these clothes day and night for over a year," he responds, making no move to so much as morph said clothes into anything else. "Besides, what does it matter? You'll never sleep in this bed again."

At his words, the careful façade she'd constructed after leaving the funeral slips. She sighs, dropping her face into her hands and trying desperately not to cry again today. Since the moment they had stepped into her house, she's been all too aware of the fact that it's likely to be the last time she'll ever be here. More than that, it's already past time that she'll ever live with her mother again. So much has changed so quickly, and she can't allow herself to be overwhelmed before they're clear of Asgard.

"I'm sorry," Loki says, his voice gentle. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's fine," she says, sighing once more. She rubs her hands roughly up and down her cheeks as she raises her head to look at him again. "We've both had a shit day."

Nodding, he finally slips under the covers. Figuring she ought to join him so that they can get an early start in the morning, she vanishes what left she has on of her armor before removing her shirt and slacks. She's left standing in her undergarments, unnoticed by Loki as he shifts around, trying to get cozy. Suddenly feeling overly self-conscious about going to bed in such a state, despite having done it thousands of times previous, she excuses herself and retreats to the bathroom.

She spends a few minutes by herself, washing away the grime of the day and changing into a nightgown. She tries to go for something with a little appeal, though nothing too scandalous, settling on a long gown that she's owned for centuries. When she reemerges from the restroom, she leans against her dresser, trying to appear nonchalant as she tries to drum up the courage to slip into bed with someone over whom she's pined for decades.

Having settled into a comfortable position, half-sitting up, Loki raises a brow as he looks her up and down. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

Face alight with incredulity, she issues a swift denial. "No." Wolfishly, he smiles at her, and despite herself, she can't help but return the gesture, albeit more hesitantly. "Shut up," she urges, a laugh bubbling out of her. "I just—You've never seen me in my bedclothes before—"

"I have," he interjects, tone playful.

Shaking her head mock-scornfully, she acknowledges, "You have because you have no sense of boundaries and appear whenever you like."

He hums, whether agreeably or otherwise, continuing to rake his eyes over her. After a beat, he reflects, "You know, this is not my favorite nightgown of yours."

Looking down at herself, she privately disagrees, favoring the lengthy, flowing silk and rich, purple color. "Oh?"

"The short, yellow one," is all he says, but she recognizes a request when she hears one.

Head tilted to the side teasingly, she morphs her nightgown into the one he'd mentioned. The deep purple fades into a soft, light yellow, and the sleeves shrink into thin straps, which hold up the chemise that cups her bosom. She wonders if he notices that it's shorter than usual, its hem extending only as far down as the top of her thighs.

Loki is out of bed before the gown is finished shifting from satin to cotton. "I am so glad I taught you magic," he breathes, pushing her against the dresser to the point that she's practically sitting on it.

He's leaning down, the both of them so full of anticipation that she's just as surprised as he when her arms come up, halting his progression. "Wait."

"Forty years I've been waiting to have you," he growls, impatient, his hands coming up to idle in the space between her neck and shoulders.

Her eyelids flutter as she pushes down the thrill of lust that surges through her at his words. Her voice is very breathy when she speaks. "I only wish to say—And I'm sorry to have not said it before. I was frightened and nervous, but it was cruel of me—"

"Sigyn," he interrupts, urging her to get to the point.

Voice earnest, she jumps to the end: "I love you. Indubitably and interminably, as I have never before loved anyone. I adore you—"

She's sure she has more to say, but she doesn't get the chance. He breaks her off, crushing them together and capturing her lips in a bruising kiss.

Loki kisses the way Sigyn fights: with abandon. In the force of his lips, she can feel every emotion he has swirling just beneath the surface, each one caught in the feeling of his heart beating just over her own as they wind their bodies closer together.

"I love you, too," he whispers in between adorning nips and pecks along her lips and neck. "Fervently. Ardently. You are everything."

Overcome with affection and desire, she pulls back long enough to push him back onto the bed, following soon after. She climbs over him, and he tugs her down once she's far enough up the mattress. She barely manages to settle over his lap before he's flipping her over, putting her on her back beneath him. Lust flaring up once more, she surges up to reclaim his lips.

Her hands start on his cheeks, travelling to get tangled in his long locks. He pulls back as she pulls his hair lightly, moving to nip at her neck. Her lips part of their own accord, her stream-of-consciousness escaping her. "I love your hair like this. It's so long, and it curls, and I can only imagine how it'd look beneath your helmet." Loki groans, biting harder, and she gasps into their next kiss.

Loki moves one of his hands under her dress as her own roam his chest and back. She scraps her nails over his shoulder blades, hoping he feels it through his clothes. He must, groaning in pleasure, and he moves his hand to the junction between her legs in response. The air between them grows hotter, if possible.

Sigyn's breath catches in her throat as he starts out slow, skimming his knuckles along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. They float inwards, finally coming to brush along her folds. As he probes deeper, pushing his fingers into her and swirling them around, she gasps, watching as stars dance behind her eyelids. When next she opens her eyes, she finds those stars again in his own eyes, peering down at her from above.

Just as Loki starts to grapple with the waistband of his trousers with his free hand, something starts to pull on the edges of her consciousness. "Wait," she tells him, inefficaciously trying to move her focus elsewhere. He ignores her until she grips his wrists, preventing him from persisting. "Stop."

Loki seems entirely unaware of anything amiss. "Come on," he drawls, his voice deep and gravelly. She tries and fails to resist the urge to shiver. "You can't actually be this timid in bed."

She doesn't dignify that with a response, bringing a finger up to her lips and looking towards the wall as a signal for him to listen. Understanding dawning on him, he turns his face to the missing door. A creak sounds from down the hall.

"I'm going to kill him," grumbles Loki as he clambers off of her. She moves from the bed, as well, her dress shifting into one more appropriate for company. The both of them stand facing the wall, silently deciding how they want to handle the oncoming confrontation. He looks to her, and she gestures to the left of the missing door, where he goes to stand, putting over the both of them the same glamour from earlier as he does. She takes up a position on the right before summoning to her hands a pair of short swords and pulling the door back into existence.

Almost as soon as it has reemerged, the knob twists and the door drifts open. Two cloaked figures slowly tread into the room, looking around for its inhabitants. The eyes of the larger of the two figures sweep right over Sigyn. Meanwhile, the smaller of the two moves to the side to take note of the unmade bed.

"Sigyn, I know you're in here," whispers Haldana, addressing the seemingly empty room just before Loki tackles her to the ground.

She goes down with a yelp, and Sigyn uses the distraction to go after Thor. She kicks out the back of his knee before he can fully turn to help Haldana. He stumbles, going down on one knee. Before he can stand up again, Sigyn slides in front of him, one of her swords skating along his nape and the other under his throat. When Loki drops the glamour, Thor's eyes flare, manifestly unhappy as he recognizes her standing over him.

"Would you look at that," Loki is saying from where he's practically sitting on the small of Haldana's back, keeping her pinned to the floor. Her head turned to the side, she glares up at him. "They found us in a matter of a few short hours."

Sighing, Sigyn concedes, "Yes, you were right. Congratulations." When they'd been deciding where they wanted to hide out earlier, he'd been the one to remark that everyone knew where she lived, but she'd eventually won him over, insisting it'd be safe enough for one night. Oh, well, she thinks now. It's not as though their siblings have them trapped. In fact, it's quite the other way around.

"Loki," Thor barks imperiously, as though he's not being restrained at this very moment. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Escaping unjust imprisonment," Loki tells him without a shred of irony in his tone. Sigyn laughs disbelievingly, and he turns his hard stare onto her.

Thor starts up again. "You are a fool i—"

"As are you," Loki interrupts, almost bored in his conviction. Haldana struggles anew under him, so he presses down on her back with his knee. "What do you want?"

Appearing to shake himself, Thor puts on his most persuasive voice. "I come here to offer you a chance of rich sacrament."

Sigyn and Loki exchange a look, at the end of which he gives her a subtle nod, and she steps back from Thor at the same time that he moves from atop Haldana. Striding over to his brother, he prompts him, "Go on."

"I know you seek vengeance as much as I do," Thor tells him, returning to his full height. "You help me escape Asgard, and I will grant it to you."

Haldana comes to stand beside her, giving her a rather fearsome glare. Sigyn narrowly avoids being shoved as Haldana ushers her away from the men, hissing quietly at her feeble protests.

"I cannot believe what you've done," she hisses, her teeth grinding in a display of her displeasure. "You have ruined your life, and for Loki. What the Hel were you thinking?"

"You said it yourself: no one was going to help me to the hospital. No one but Loki, that was." She shrugs, turning up her nose at Haldana for good measure. Wandering around her, she begins collecting her things, well aware that this is her last chance to do so before she has to leave Asgard forever. "I did what I had to do."

She goes about tossing everything of value into her little pocket dimension, picking out all her favorite clothes—including the yellow nightgown—and every weapon she owns. As she's collecting family heirlooms—some of which she has to call from different rooms—Haldana drops a light touch onto her shoulder. Reluctantly, she turns to face her.

"Listen," she starts out, voice quiet enough to disguise its slight trembling. "I am terriblysorry about what happened today with Walentyna. You know I am."

Willing herself not to cry yet again, tears prickling behind her eyelids nonetheless, Sigyn spares her a quiet, "Thank you." After expelling a brief, shuddering breath, she adds, "And there's no need for your agonizing. Even if you had helped me, we still would have been too late."

Haldana nods, acknowledging the truth of Sigyn's words without dismissing them. Reaching out to take Sigyn's hand, she squeezes it in comfort.

Sigyn squeezes back before ripping her hand away with a dramatic flourish. "That was only your first offense of the day, however. I'll have you know I was about to get laid before you barged in."

Irritation and distaste immediately mask all of the other emotions that'd been written across her sister's face. "Oh, gross."

"Moan about it all you like," Sigyn replies, waving her away. "I could be moaning right now if it weren't for you."

Haldana moans in displeasure again. "Why must you always say such things?"

"I have a soldier's tongue. You know this." She walks around Haldana to grab something. "And if not for you, that tongue could be up—"

"Stop," her sister pleads."I beg you."

"Oh, very well," she indulges, trying to stamp down a sly grin. "Though, speaking of begging—"

"Shut up," snaps Haldana.

Sigyn's snickering is interrupted by Thor's carrying voice, which has to it a hard edge. "—and I will kill you," he's in the midst of threatening, glaring at Loki with forceful intensity.

"You will not," Sigyn interjects sharply, haphazardly throwing herself into the brothers' conversation as she is unable to quash down her fierce disapproval. Thor looks over to her, his brow furrowing at her interruption. Unflinching, she goes on, "I did not break him out of prison only for him to be killed aftermath."

Hands on his hips, he contends, "You'll keep him in check then?"

Crossing her arms, she quirks a single eyebrow. She reminds him, "I haven't agreed to anything."

Manifestly confused, he gestures to her, saying, "Obviously, you're on board."

"'Obviously,'" she echoes, taking a step closer to him. "Why is it obvious?" Simultaneously, she tosses a surreptitious glance Loki's way, silently asking, On board with what?

He wants our help escaping Asgard because Odin has ordered the Bifröst closed, he tells her whilst his gaze traverses between her and Thor in amusement. Sigyn manages to stop herself from nodding in comprehension.

Thor shrugs and provides her with a remarkably lacking explanation. "We're both avengers."

"Avengers," she says, repeating his words again. Her attention is drawn briefly again to Loki, who's rolling his eyes and glaring at the ceiling. "What is he talking about," she asks him.

Sighing loudly, Loki explains, "The motley group of misfits with whom you fought in New York call themselves the Avengers, Earth's mightiest heroes. Load of—"

"Why 'Avengers,'" she interrupts. "We avenged nothing and no one."

He waves his hand as though to suggest it doesn't make sense to him either. "The idea was that you would have avenged Midgard had I succeeded." He frowns, sighing once more. "Alas, I did not."

"Yes, too bad," Thor interrupts before anyone can continue down this tangent. "Back to the issue at hand."

Loki pulls a face as though to suggest he's contemplating Thor's offer. He looks to Sigyn. What say you?

It is up to you, she replies, wondering if her own sigh is being conveyed telepathically. Already, the two of them have decided to steal away from Asgard, and she doesn't see why they would need anyone's help to do so. However, I'd be very interested to learn the reason your brother and friends want off Asgard.

He doesn't say anything to that, but she can feel him echo the sentiment in her mind. Turning back to Thor, he gives their assent. Thor is pleased, but remains gruff, trying to shoo them out of the house as quickly as possible.

"Hold on," Sigyn protests, holding her hands over her head and striding towards her dresser. "I need to collect my jewelry." Thor groans, but stops by the door nonetheless.

Coming to stand at her side, Loki hums his approval. "Yes, we'll need to organize funds for our travels."

Reproachful, Sigyn bristles at the thought of parting with any of her jewelry. She's not overly fond of jewelry—never collecting it for solely aesthetic purposes—so each piece she owns has meaning to it. Most of her collection is from Loki, but there are older pieces from her mother and grandmother, and even a brooch from Pontus. "I'm not selling any of it," she informs him.

"Sigyn, we need money," he tells her as though she's being unreasonable.

Gesturing at the contents of her jewelry box, she wonders, "How much could any of this possibly be worth?" In her view, any value is purely sentimental.

From over her shoulder, Haldana reaches into the box, pulling out a thin, gold chain with a small, light sapphire hanging from it. She holds it up, telling Sigyn, "I helped Loki purchase this for you a few years after you'd first met."

Sigyn spares Loki an endearing smile, which he returns.

Haldana ruins the moment, sparsely-contained glee shining through her words. "It's worth twice as much as this house."

"What," Sigyn barks, closing her hand around the necklace.

Vaguely offended, he asks her, "You thought I bought you cheap jewelry?"

"Cheap isn't—You—I—" Frowning, she cuts herself off, trying to organize her thoughts. After a moment, she's thought it through enough to spit, "Loki, this is why everyone thinks I am a gold digger!"

Not sounding remorseful in the least, he acknowledges, "Yeah."

Feeling betrayed, she informs him, "Now, I'm not selling it to spite you."

Loki is quick to reply. "Allow me to remind you that I don't have access to crown funds anymore, and you cannot access your savings account because you're a fugitive of the law."

Exasperated, Sigyn throws up her hands. "Loki, one of the first things you taught me to do was turn a piece of wood into money. We'll get by, I assure you." He purses his lips, apparently swayed for the moment.

"Honestly," Haldana is muttering to Thor, drawing Sigyn's attention to her in spite of the low pitch of her voice. "One day together and they're already fighting about money."

Sigyn shoots her sister a glare as Thor clears his throat impatiently. "Are we done here," he asks. She vanishes the jewelry box and gives her assent, relenting to his incessant prodding.

The four of them head out, trailing down the stairs and through the kitchen one-by-one. Sigyn is the last to step through the door, turning around in its frame to cast one last look around the home in which she'd grown up—had lived her entire life thus far. She must spend a good two minutes staring at the glass Walentyna had left on the counter that morning before Loki doubles back to gently pull her away, inspecting the stain left from her mother's lip balm from afar.

---

The morning after her mother's funeral, Sigyn comes downstairs to find Loki facing off with his old friends. He sits across from them at Haldana's kitchen table, the various lords and ladies focusing their glares on him whilst he calmly eats his breakfast.

A few hours prior, the two of them had been smuggled over to Haldana's house in the dead of night, threatened on pain of death by Thor should either of them attempt to escape, and sent to bed in the guest room Sigyn usually occupies when she stays overnight. After everything had been said and done—including a tear-wrenching exchange with Aerick fraught with condolences for their mothers' deaths—they'd been too tired to do anything more than sleep, the both of them dead to the world as soon as their backs had hit the mattress.

Now, she trudges down the stairs. She's freshly showered, having gone to get ready for the day when she'd woken up alone. Faintly, she remembers stirring near dawn, the bed shifting as Loki grumbled to himself about not having eaten since lunch the day before. Pretending not to notice as everyone's eyes shift to her, she plops down into the chair next to him, slides a hand down his arm in greeting, and steals an apple from his plate.

Fandral is the first to address her, his fingers splaying as he slides his hand across the tabletop. "Major Sigyn." He grins, and she hides her reciprocal wince behind the apple. "How is life as a fugitive treating you?"

Aggravated, she wants little more in this moment than to quash the irksome, mocking gleam in his eye, but Loki beats her to the punch, materializing a dagger out of thin air and burying it into the sliver of wood peeking through Fandral's middle and index fingers.

Whipping his hand back, Fandral curses as he stands back from the table. "Loki, you fucking maniac!" Loki ignores Fandral, opting to wink at Sigyn, though she barely catches it in the midst of her peeling laughter.

Unimpressed by the men's antics, Haldana sets a glass of wine down on the table. "Here," she says, eyes cutting to Sigyn's as she takes a long sip from her own glass. "Thought you could use a drink."

Loki is reaching across her before she can think to say anything, gulping the entire glass down in the same span of time. Setting it back down, he gently smacks his lips together.

Haldana stares down at him in incredulity and thinly-veiled contempt. "Loki, that was obviously for Sigyn."

Entirely unapologetic, he hums dismissively. "Was it? How rude of me."

After allowing herself one more moment of stark disbelief, she rolls her eyes and turns away from him. "I'll fetch you another one," she tells Sigyn.

"That's alright. I'm not thirsty," Sigyn intones with as casual an inflection in her tone as she can muster. She deliberately ignores the pointed look Loki gives her. "Why would you think I need a drink so early in the day anyhow?"

"Because my father put out the reward for your capture this morning," Thor informs her, appearing through the open door from the main hall. Heimdall trails behind him, his expression as somber as she's ever seen it. Thor lays down a sheet of paper before her on the table. She picks it up for further inspection.

A thousand gold bars. Dead, it reads under a sparse description and pitiful portrait of herself. Her eyes widen as she takes in the implication behind the words. She's wanted dead, not dead or alive. There comes with her capture no chance at redemption. Odin has truly forsaken any remaining tolerance of her.

"Why are you worth so much more than me," Loki asks from over her shoulder, indignant. Beside the reward for her, the prize for Loki reads: Three-hundred gold bars. Alive.

"One pays for quality," she replies without much thought, still caught up on the fact that she's only wanted dead. It's a good thing her mother is already dead, she ponders morbidly, for this would surely kill her.

He pinches the flesh of her hips, admonishing, "Hey." Still hardly paying attention, eyes glued to the wanted poster, she gives him a light peck on the lips as consolation.

"Gross," she hears Haldana mumble from behind them.

"Indeed," Thor concurs, walking behind them to grab onto the back of Loki's jacket and heft him to his feet amid colorful protests. Breakfast apparently having concluded, those remaining in the kitchen decide to follow after them into the drawing room. They arrive in time to watch Thor deposit Loki onto one of the many sofas that populate the space. He bounces on its cushions before shoving himself back to his feet. Thor speaks again before Loki has the chance. He points at Aerick, then at Loki. "Watch him."

Aerick's face pales with unease. "I don't know—"

"Please," Loki spits, glaring at his brother. "As if he could watch me. He can't even fight."

"Hey, I can fight," Aerick protests, though he falls silent as soon as Loki takes a single indicatory step towards him. Without a hint of shame, he takes a step behind Haldana.

Thor doesn't entertain Loki's threats any longer. Leaning in close, he warns, "Remember what I told you, Brother." Imagining he's referring to his threat to kill Loki should he betray them, Sigyn's lips twist in dismay.

Anxious to get things started as he marshals everyone else out through the back door, Thor leads the way to the wine cellar conjoined with Haldana's guest house. Just to be safe, Sigyn disguises herself as Aerick during the brief walk between the two buildings. Once they make it down the stairs of the cellar, Fandral holds open the door.

"Ladies first," he says, grinning up at his friends. Sif and Haldana go ahead with a nod to each of them, but he stops Sigyn when she tries to pass. "I said, 'ladies.'"

Heaving a sigh, Sigyn presses her lips into a line before inquiring, "Lord Fandral, I forget. What is your godship?"

His answering smile is tight. "I am not a god."

"That's right," she says as though she's just remembered. Volstagg laughs from behind her, and she makes sure to check Fandral with her shoulder as she moves past him.

When each of them has taken a seat at a small table situated between shelves of old, expensive wine—save for Heimdall, who opts to remain standing by the door, ever the Gatekeeper—Thor starts them out on a somber note. "What I'm about to ask of you is treason of the highest order. Success will bring us exile, and failure shall mean our death. Malekith knew the Aether was here. He can sense its power. If we do nothing, he will come for it again, but this time, lay waste to all of Asgard. We must move Jane off-world."

Sigyn wisely resists the urge to point out to him that his decision to bring his little human girlfriend here was the start of all of their problems and suffering. She'd rather not give him incentive to collect on her bounty.

Sif contributes something helpful. "The Bifröst has been shut down, and the Tesseract locked away in the vault."

"There are other paths off Asgard," in chimes Heimdall. "Ways known only to a few."

"One, actually," Thor clarifies.

At this, Sif, Fandral, and Volstagg all exchange looks. Each of them appears to be grappling with varying degrees of horror and resignation. Volstagg is the first to whisper, aghast, "No."

Fandral's protests quickly follow. "I thought Loki's presence here was to persuade the Major Sigyn to our cause. Don't tell me you actually mean to enlist his help. He will betray you."

"He will try." His eyes cut to Sigyn's, making a silent request as he had the night before. He wants her to keep an eye out for any disloyalty on Loki's part. Albeit reluctantly, she sees the need for such caution, at least with regards to Thor and their inane rivalry. She nods once, and appeased, he turns back to Fandral.

"Well, what then," the man asks, leaning back in his seat. "Your lovely mortal is being guarded by a legion of Einherjar who will see you coming from miles away."

"I won't be the one who comes for her," Thor answers, looking to Sif.

She looks anything but pleased at the suggestion, despite having what is arguably one of the most important roles in their plan. Sigyn feels bad for her, having to help the girlfriend of someone for whom she's long held a torch, though she doesn't let it show on her face. Even if she wanted to extend her sympathies to Sif, she knows they wouldn't be met with grace. They may be able to tolerate one another now, but they're hardly friends.

Rather than voice her misgivings, Sif asks, "And what of the Allfather?"

Heimdall answers, "It is my sworn duty to notify him of crimes against the throne."

Another snag occurs to Volstagg. "Assuming you can get Loki's help and you can free this mortal, what good would it do? We'd all be dead the minute we step one foot outside the palace." Sigyn nods in agreement, knowing well that there would be airships and artillery stations within range and ready to fire on them.

"That, my friend, is why we won't be leaving by foot," Thor responds, an undercurrent of excitement present in his voice. "We'll take the ship the elves left behind in the palace. It survived the crash. It should survive the trip to Loki's passageway."

"And what of after this quest is over," wonders Haldana, thinking ahead as always. "What will we do then?"

"I will return to Asgard to entreat my father to free you from any imprisonment you may suffer. What happens next is up to him," he says.

She nods in acceptance before heaving a sigh, as though preparing herself for something unpleasant. She turns to meet Sigyn's gaze. "And you and Loki?" Not having expected the inquiry, Sigyn merely shrugs. Unfortunately, Haldana doesn't drop the subject. "You know, Sister, one of the rules of our quests is that one never goes off alone with Loki."

"Your point being," Sigyn asks coolly.

Her sister extends a challenge instead, wearing a deadpan expression. "Tell me honestly you think it a good idea to run off with him when this is over."

Unable to keep the sly smile from her face, she taunts, "You really want me to lie to you?"

Face crumpling in frustration, Haldana pleads, "Sigyn, please, I am begging you. You need be cautious about him."

"You and your caution," Sigyn gripes, rolling her eyes. "Were you so cautious when it came to Aerick?"

Her deadpan look makes a comeback. "I was, and then you spilled my guts."

Somewhat embarrassed, Sigyn recalls the scene she'd made in Andor's dining room. "Yes, well, you're welcome," she thinks to say, turning up her nose at her sister. Looking to Thor, she makes to change the subject herself. "If we could get to the specifics of the plan?"

Thor nods, and a lengthy discussion ensues. They go over every step to their plan: the minutiae of each person's task, where everyone involved will be and when, the number of guards posted around the city at any given time, and what they will and won't tell Loki. By the time they nail down the very last detail, it is long past dusk, and they find their eyes blowing wide rather than squinting to account for the change in light as they emerge from the cellar.

Bidding goodnight to their co-conspirators, Haldana, Thor, and Sigyn step back into the living room of the main house to find Loki beating Aerick in a game of Hnefatafl. Aerick is frowning down at the board as though terribly confused as to how Loki is winning, though Sigyn quickly deduces it is because he's cheating. Several of the pieces are masked off of the board, and a few are even swapped with ones still in play. Deciding to let Loki have his fun, she doesn't reveal his trick as she perches herself on his lap. Winding his arm around her waist so as to keep her in place, he moves one of the few uncompromised pieces on the board, at which Aerick groans aloud.

"One more thing," Haldana says, calling Sigyn's attention to her. She's staring down her nose at her, clearly displeased by the seat she's taken. Sigyn smiles brazenly at her. "You'll be sleeping with me tonight."

Sigyn doesn't allow herself to appear inconvenienced. "Does that make us sister-wives?" Sitting across from her, Aerick chokes on air. She spares him a saucy wink.

Taking this moment to jump in, Loki asks, "Must you mind us like children?"

"We can't risk you two running off in the middle of the night," Thor informs him, unapologetic.

Face scrunching up, Sigyn questions, "Why would we do that? I just spent all day with you, crafting our plan for tomorrow."

He pauses whilst contemplating voicing his true feelings. It appears he settles on doing so. "We can't risk Loki stealing you away in the middle of the night."

Loki clicks his tongue reprovingly. "So little trust you have in me, Brother."

"Loki would have abducted me years ago if that was what he wanted to do," Sigyn protests, and Loki nods in emphatic agreement.

"Regardless," Haldana intones. "Better to not tempt fate."

Sigyn, suddenly feeling bitter and wondering what her sister knows of fate, sneers up at her. "As if you could."

Affronted at Sigyn's shift in mood, Haldana shoots her a curt glare and juts her chin up to point at the stairs, a clear signal that it's time for them to retire for the night. Still angry, Sigyn makes sure to give Loki the filthiest parting kiss she can manage before Haldana forcibly removes her from his lap.

Ignoring her vexed squawk, Haldana drags her upstairs. Once in Haldana's room, her sister releases her, though she makes sure to give her a light shove as she does. Stumbling slightly, Sigyn whirls around, fixing her sister with a glare.

"What is wrong with you," Haldana hisses, for once ready to start a fight before Sigyn. She looks as though she cannot fathom as to why Sigyn is acting the way she is. "Does Loki have you under some sort of spell?"

Sigyn gawks up at her, offended. "First, you order me around, and now, you insult me? Is this how you treat all your guests?"

"Oh, well, I am terribly sorry," Haldana responds, clearly not sorry in the least. "But I am having a little trouble understanding why you would otherwise decide to become a fugitive!"

Sigyn rolls her eyes. "You like to complain about my being a fugitive, but let me remind you: I'd not have needed to break Loki out of prison yesterday had you helped me in the first place!"

Cringing, Haldana relents, "By Borr, Sigyn, I'm sorry, but you were injured, and I—"

"Please," Sigyn spits, glaring up at her sister. "I am fine!"

"Oh, you are, are you," Haldana asks, eyes wide and brow raised. "Because it seems to me as though your mind is no longer well. Relying on Loki as you are—"

"Difficult though it may be to believe, I trust Loki," she rebuts, cutting off Haldana's rant.

"Well, you shouldn't," flashes Haldana, taking a step closer. She looms over Sigyn, staring down her nose at her anew. "And as I recall, not always were you so sure of him."

"No, I was," Sigyn disputes, not backing down. "It's everyone else who had a problem."

Derisive, Haldana scoffs. "What are you talking about?"

"I am talking about how Odin would rather see me dead than with his son," she starts, ramping up for more. "I am talking about you and all your little friends belittling me and my relationship with Loki for decades. I am talking about my mother, and how she used to take every opportunity to sow seeds of doubt in my mind."

Sufficiently chastened, Haldana is quiet as Sigyn leans in close. "I am no fool," she continues, voice low. "Loki, for all his craft, is not going to betray me. I know this, and for all your circumspection, I believe you do, too."

Despite her words, Haldana's circumspection doesn't stop there. "What if he makes a mistake? What if he gets greedy and puts the both of you in a situation he cannot manage?"

"He won't," Sigyn denies, growing weary and turning away from the conversation.

"Sigyn, you could end up dead," her sister insists.

"That doesn't matter," she snaps, having lost her patience. "I'm dying already."

"Yes, we all have to die someday," Haldana concedes, sighing as she misses Sigyn's point by a lightyear.

"No," Sigyn interrupts before her sister can get in another word. She may as well explain herself, she figures, it being too late to backtrack. "I am going to die someday soon."

This finally gives Haldana pause, her earlier fire sapped from her body. "Are you sick," she asks, face ashen and shoulders slumped.

Shaking her head, Sigyn tries to gently explain: "When I went to Earth, I learnt of a prophecy that predicts my death." Face growing paler yet, Haldana appears horrified. Sigyn shrugs, trying to push a light-hearted inflection into her voice. "Some Destroyer of Worlds is to kill me."

For a long moment, Haldana doesn't say anything. She heads over to her bed, sitting down on it fully-clothed. Staring at the floor, she asks, "Who else knows?"

"My mother. She knew," Sigyn answers. Thinking on it, she adds, "Heimdall might. No one else."

"Not Loki," questions Haldana.

"Not as of yet," she answers quietly. She's still not sure as to whether or not she's going to tell him, though she doesn't divulge as much. With how her mother and now Haldana have reacted, she does not imagine he'd take it well. It's also rather unfair that she has to ponder this at all, she thinks, seeing as how most people aren't informed of their deaths beforehand and don't have to agonize over sharing the news.

Sigyn's last thought must show on her face because Haldana's suddenly crumples in sympathy, and she rushes over, embracing Sigyn and smearing her wet, messy face into Sigyn's neck. The next few hours are spent with each woman trying to comfort the other, both with little success as exhaustion slowly creeps up on them. They fall asleep on top of the bedcover with their hands loosely clasped, much as they might have done as little girls had they the privilege of growing up together.

---

Haldana and Sigyn are up and out of the house before dawn, heading out to complete their assigned task. Across the city, Sigyn keeps track of Fandral and Sif as they do the same, establishing a low-level awareness of them in the back of her mind for the rest of the day, as well as for the others.

It's hers and Haldana's job to scatter the army enough so that their small mutiny might go unnoticed, whilst keeping it intact enough to respond to any sudden attacks by the Dark Elves should the need arise.

In the Commander Hogun's absence, the garrison is run by two high-level generals, one of whom Sigyn knows to be in his office upstairs. She strides into General Brandt's office sans disguise with her head held high, ready to cause a commotion. She doesn't say so much as a word in greeting, waiting for him to notice her.

When he does, it's with little more than an idle glance. "Major Sigyn," he greets, going right back to the paperwork that lies scattered across his desktop. "What can I do for you?"

Bewildered, she frowns at Haldana from where she's hiding beyond the open door. Haldana shrugs, and looking back at Brandt, Sigyn is unsure of where to go from here. "Are you not going to arrest me," she asks, hoping for a more appropriate response to her arrival.

"No," he answers simply, glancing up at her again. He signs his name onto something before setting it aside.

"Why not," she demands, beginning to feel a little offended. She's committed a capital crime. Does that not warrant a little response?

Brandt provides her with an unassailable answer. "Because two days ago, you picked up half of a building from where it had been resting atop my son, who had only just begun to bleed out. An hour more, and he would have died." Shocked into silence, Sigyn feels color come to her cheeks. In the same businesslike tone, he drones, "So I ask again, what can I do for you?"

Still a little shell-shocked, she requests, "Tell the General Rahn that you believe the Dark Elves to be hiding out in the mountains beyond the city and to have everyone under his command searching there. Now."

"Done," he replies, sparing her a rare smile. Usually, he glares at his subordinates, although she supposes she doesn't count as such anymore. "Anything else?"

"No," she haltingly replies.

"Great, then get out," he tells her, not looking up again.

With an aborted noise that's a mixture of confusion and protest, she does as ordered, rejoining her sister in the hall. She reassumes the same disguise she'd worn to get into the building, and they make their way quickly and quietly to the exit that leads to the palace. As soon as they're outside, she mutters, "That was demoralizing."

"Made our job an easy feat, though, did it not," remarks Haldana, her voice ingrained with a forced-cheerful quality.

"Oh, what now," she gripes, recognizing the beginning of another lecture. "I thought we had settled everything between us last night. We cannot keep rehashing—"

"You cannot marry Loki," Haldana says softly, surprising Sigyn with her tone. Usually, she's snide and overbearing when giving her patented brand of advice. This is almost meek in comparison; a halting suggestion she fears won't be taken.

It's for this reason that Sigyn gives anything other than a biting response. "I know you think it a terrible outcome—"

"No, that isn't it," her sister interrupts, stopping in the middle of the walkway. Sigyn stops, as well, raising her brow in question. "You can't marry him and die. You can't leave him all alone in whatever wasteland to which you run off. It is too cruel."

"Oh," Sigyn remarks, surprised. "I'd not realized you cared too much what happened to him."

Haldana shrugs. "He is—to borrow your language—a dick, but we grew up together. There's a fondness I have for him that I don't think I'll ever be able to overwrite."

Humming, Sigyn tries to suppress a smile. It seems as though Loki's former friends are less erstwhile than he's led himself to believe. "Can I tell him?"

"Don't even think about it," her sister orders, shooting her a menacing glare.

Sigyn laughs, though she quiets at the sound of footsteps coming their way. Thankfully, it's only Sif and the mortal they're rescuing, Jane. The latter woman is rushing to keep up with Sif, her shorter legs carrying her a lesser distance with each step. Her eyes flit about the corridor, on the lookout for soldiers or Thor, perhaps, though they widen and she draws up short as soon as they land on Sigyn.

"You're Sigyn," she says, a bit of awe in her voice. She sticks out her hand, and Sigyn takes it. "Wow. Thanks for what you did in New York. It was totally amazing."

A little disconcerted to be the focus of such acute attention, Sigyn manages a gruff, "You're welcome." She's not quite sure as to what Jane is referring. However, assuming New York is another name for Earth, she's likely alluding to the Chitauri.

"You're Thor's sister, right," Jane goes on, oblivious to Sigyn's pondering.

"No," she quickly disputes, brow furrowed.

Rather inexplicably, Jane nods in understanding. "Right. I meant sister-in-law."

Before she can correct Jane, Loki slides up behind her and throws his arm around her shoulder, trapping her in his embrace. Trapping her because his own wrists are fused together by the pair of handcuffs for which Thor had asked her yesterday, and he'd looped his arms around her before pulling her back against him. All too pleased by Jane's misunderstanding, he tells her, "Quite right, Earth girl."

As opposed to the day before and his time in prison, Loki now has a fresh look about him reminiscent of simpler times. His skin and hair are lustrous and shiny. He's draped himself in fine, leather robes. He's even adorned with some pieces of gold, Sigyn notices, and she imagines he'd needled Thor into letting him sneak into his old rooms one last time.

"'Earth girl,'" Sigyn questions rather than contradict him. She smirks at him from over her shoulder. "You don't remember her name."

"I know it," he asserts. She raises an eyebrow, and appropriately challenged, he guesses, "Jaana."

"It's Jane," snaps Jane, crossing her arms and glaring at him. The intensity of her look of contempt is enough to suggest she would slap him if he weren't wound around Sigyn.

Pulling back from Sigyn, he's forced to raise both of his hands as he points at her. "I was remarkably close." He looks to Thor. "I feel I deserve some credit for that."

Thor ignores him. With a terribly serious expression, he addresses Sigyn, "Did you take care of the army?"

"Yes," she tells him.

In that same moment, a group of soldiers take up position at the far end of the hall. Having spotted them, their commanding officer yells, "There they are! Take them. On my command."

Thor's frown worsens. Sheepishly, she concedes, "I might have failed." Stepping back from the group, she assures him, "Worry not. I will fix it."

She strides in the direction of the soldiers, raising a hand over her head. She snaps, and pink light sparks out from her fingers, roaming down her body and spreading out on the floor. It travels to two of the grand pillars that line the hall and climbs up them. After a few seconds, the gold that makes up the columns appears to squirm, giant, golden snakes manifesting soon thereafter.

With great, booming cracks of noise, the snakes break away from the pillars, slithering to the ground. They take off towards the soldiers, who take off in turn, their shouts of terror echoing throughout the hall. A few people stand their ground, looking skeptical as the serpents approach them. They must know of the typically illusionary quality of her powers, Sigyn reasons, and are unsure as to whether the snakes are real. In the end, they run once the larger of the snakes nears them, snapping its massive jaw at them.

Rejoining the others, she overhears Sif talking to Thor. Nodding at Haldana, Sif assures him, "We'll hold them off once the illusion wears off. Take her."

"Thank you," he tells her before starting off with Jane.

Loki makes to follow after his brother, but Sif stops him with a sword to his neck. He draws up, smiling. Not similarly amused, she warns him, "Betray them, and I'll kill you."

Sigyn feigns a gasp as Loki chuckles good-naturedly. "'Them?' Am I included in your threat? Oh, Sif," she gives her doe eyes, putting her hand to her chest. "Do you love me?" She holds out her arms as though to usher Sif into a hug. Haldana falls into her arms instead, squeezing her tightly around the middle.

Looking embarrassed, Sif retracts her threat along with her sword. "I take it back. Do what you want with her."

"I intend to," he promises darkly.

Making a face, Haldana pulls away from Sigyn. For what must be the tenth time in two days, she chides, "Gross." Unexpectedly, she follows it up by darting forward to hug him, too, much to his shock, which Sigyn witnesses from over her sister's shoulder.

Whilst Loki and Haldana are occupied with one another, Sif steps forward to exchange a firm handshake with Sigyn. The two of them trade respectful nods, a wry grin coming to Sigyn's face as they do. Whoever though that she'd end up on tenably good-footing with Sif one day?

At the end of the hall, Thor turns around mid-step to shout back at them, "Loki! Sigyn! Let's go!"

Exchanging one final good-bye, Sigyn and Haldana squeeze each other's hands before breaking apart. Haldana takes up a defensive position alongside Sif, sparing Sigyn one last confident grin as she walks off with Loki.

Having caught up with Thor and Jane, their group meets Volstagg at site of the collapsed Dark Elf ship. As soon as he sees them, he assures Thor, "I will give you as much time as I can."

Thor goes to clasp his arm. "Thank you, my friend." He passes by him, heading onto the ship. Jane nods to Volstagg as she, too, passes him by, and he smiles at her in turn.

When Loki tries to pass him, he stops him with a firm hand on his chest. "If you even think about betraying him—"

Oddly cheerful, Loki drawls, "You'll kill me? Evidently, there will be a line." Pulling away, he heads onto the ship, as well.

Volstagg, left with only Sigyn in front of him now, clasps her on the shoulders. "Sigyn, I've always liked you." He punctuates his statement with a genial kiss to her forehead.

"Aww," she coos, blushing. She pokes him in the chest endearingly. "I've always liked you, too."

From halfway up the ship's ramp, Loki calls back, "Stop being nice to those who threaten me!"

"Stop inviting such threats," she rebuts, stepping up after him. She trails up the ramp last, pressing a button at its top to retract it once she's on board. She makes to turn around and head farther into the ship before the sounds of heavy footfalls and shouting reach her ears, prompting her to turn back around.

Pontus, of all people, runs down the hall, waving his arms and yelling her name. She looks on, nonplussed, as he grows closer. As he gets halfway to them, Volstagg conspicuously tightens his grip on his axe, though this doesn't slow Pontus down.

"Wait," he's yelling, his gait widening to take up more ground. "Sigyn, don't go!"

He's barely twenty feet away when the ramp is fully retracted and the doors of the ship have begun to slide shut in front of her, shielding her from his view. She gives him a last, awkward wave as they draw shut, the picture of his distraught expression burning itself into her memory as he pulls up short, realizing he'll never reach her in time.

Two years with scarcely a word and here he comes at the last possible minute, she thinks ruefully, turning away from the dark, closed doors.

In the middle of the ship's cabin, Thor stands at large center console. She steers clear of it, unhappily reminded of the last time she'd stood at an alien control panel. Loki approaches him as he presses buttons seemingly at random, remarking, "I thought you said you knew how to fly this thing."

"I said, 'How hard could it be,'" Thor recants, frowning as he fumbles for the correct button.

Loki is hardly impressed. "Well, whatever you're doing, Brother, I suggest you do it faster."

"Shut up, Loki." Frantically, he continues looking for a way to start the ship, surely aware of how little time they have before they lose their chance to escape.

"You must have missed something," Loki insists, trying to move things along.

"No, I didn't," Thor maintains, jabbing at every button on which he can get his hands. "I'm pressing every button on this thing."

"Don't hit it," advises Loki. "Just press it gently."

Slamming his hands onto the console, Thor yells, "I am pressing it gently! It's not working!"

At the last strike of his hands, the ship powers up abruptly, the cabin darkening as much as it can with the giant hole it has blown in its side. A spherical, holographic screen lights up around the console, displaying a three-dimensional map of their surroundings. Thor laughs in victory.

He brings up the ship, turning them around. Sigyn barely feels the movement as a result of the ships design; with them in its center while its wing turns around them. She does, however, feel the ship shake with every column it strikes.

"I think you missed a column," Loki chimes in sarcastically.

"Shut up," Thor shouts again.

As he tries to get the hang of steering the ship, they manage to slam through the palace wall, clip a dozen buildings, and narrowly miss dozens more. They're halfway through the city, moving every which way when Loki suggests, "Look, why don't you let me take over? I'm clearly the better pilot."

"Is that right," Thor questions, grinning acrimoniously as he keeps his attention fixed onto the screen before him. "Well, out of the two of us, which one can actually fly?"

Sigyn decides it's her turn to goad Thor. "Is it not so that you're merely pulled along by your hammer, whereas Loki can turn into a bird and fly naturally?"

As Loki grins at her from behind Thor's back, Thor gives her the same treatment as he did Loki earlier, "Shut up, Sigyn!" His shout breaks off in a grunt as he swerves the ship out of a line of fire from an artillery station.

From the other side of the ship, Jane suddenly collapses, her voice coming out in a broken sigh as she goes down. Heedful, Sigyn goes to check on her.

Leaning over the console, Loki unhelpfully and insincerely considers the scene. "Oh, dear. Is she dead?"

"Jane," Thor calls, his voice painted with concern.

Sigyn checks Jane's pulse, pleased not only to feel her heartbeat—albeit weaker than she suspects it should be—but to see her wave away Thor's concerns. "I'm okay," Jane tells him, her eyes closed.

They take on fire again, causing the three of them left standing to stumble as the ship shudders under the onslaught. In a panic, Thor runs them through the gallery from which they'd sent off their mothers two days prior.

He doesn't look at Loki as he orders, "Not a word." For whatever reason, Loki abides by his request.

Looking at the screen, Sigyn takes notice of several ships falling into pursuit behind them. Loki, too, notices. "Now, they're following us." They take fire once more, and Loki moves to Thor's other side, perhaps solely for the purpose of yelling at him from a different angle. "Now, they're firing at us!"

Gritting his teeth and scowling, Thor retorts, "Yes, thank you for the commentary, Loki. It's not at all distracting!"

They hit something else, the entire ship jolting. Smugly, Loki commends, "Well done. You just decapitated your grandfather." Thor ignores him.

At last, they make it to the waterfront, whereupon they immediately take on more fire by the dozens of artillery guns stationed there.

As they run alongside the Rainbow Bridge, Loki's annoyance begins to bleed into his voice. "You know, this is wonderful. This is a tremendous idea. Let's steal the biggest, most obvious ship in the universe and escape in that! Flying around the city, smashing into everything in sight so everyone can see us. It's brilliant, Thor! It's truly brilliant!"

Sick of him, Thor shoves Loki out of the gaping maw torn into the ship. As Loki's scream grows fainter, a little smile comes to grace Thor's face before he turns to smirk fully at Sigyn.

Sighing as she treads over to the hole herself, Sigyn admits, "Very well, you were right. That was hilarious." She waits until Thor has Jane in his arms before jumping onto the ship Fandral has commandeered, careful not to land on Loki, who's lying on his side and groaning quietly.

Thor lands beside her as Fandral chuckles at Loki's expense. "I see your time in the dungeons has made you no less graceful, Loki."

Loki pays Fandral no mind, his eyes on his brother. "You lied to me. I'm impressed."

"I'm glad you're pleased," Thor tells him, sounding quite the opposite. "Now, do as you promised and take us to your secret pathway."

Loki does so, taking the ship's rudder. He turns them towards the mountains, the ship skirting along the water. A mischievous, exhilarated smile comes to his face, and Sigyn suddenly wishes for a handle onto which to hold.

After Fandral leaves them to beg off the last of the pursuant ships, they start sailing towards a very jagged, very narrow mountain pass. "Loki," Thor calls back, worry apparent in his tone.

He does little to assuage his brother's fears. "If it were easy, everyone would do it."

"Are you mad," Thor shouts.

"Possibly," he acknowledges.

Thor ducks down, gripping Jane's arm. Concurrently, Loki warns Sigyn, Hold onto something.

She backs up, gripping a flap of metal near the engine. It's hot enough to burn her hand, but she doesn't let go. As they near a small crevice in the face of the mountain, she holds out against the impulse to close her eyes. They enter the cave, the walls lighting up in an array of colors the farther they go.

With a spark, the air shifts queerly, and they find themselves in Svartalfheim. Cockily, Loki sings, "Ta-da."

Having arrived safely, they cruise around in silence for some time, the banter from before having been extinguished by the anxiety that sets in at the prospect of completing their mission and facing Malekith. Svartalfheim, the Dark Realm, is—as one might expect—dark. The planet's sun is shrouded by its moon, and the soil on the ground is as black as night. The planet's surface is littered with the vestiges of war, dilapidated warships torn apart and strewn over the landscape. Loki navigates their ship through the wreckage, careful not to have them join it.

The air here is chilly, as expected of a planet with a regularly-eclipsed sun. Jane twitches with every strong breeze, prompting Thor to ask for a blanket from Sigyn. Obliged, she materializes one for him, and he drapes it over Jane.

Looking over at the display, Loki shakes his head. "What I could do with the power that flows through those veins."

Unimpressed, Thor barely spares him a glance, sitting down beside Sigyn on the bench that lines the edge of the ship. "It would consume you," he tells Loki. Sigyn agrees, though she says nothing. This is a conversation between brothers, she can tell, and she has no desire to wade into it.

"She's holding up alright," Loki observes, nodding in Jane's direction. "For now."

"She's strong in ways you'd never even know," Thor attests.

Heartless, Loki leans forward to advise: "Say good-bye."

If possible, Thor's expression turns harder. "Not this day."

Loki presses on, unbothered. "This day, the next, a hundred years, it's nothing." Standing up, he continues, "It's a heartbeat. You'll never be ready. The only woman whose love you've prized will be snatched from you."

Standing, too, Thor raises his brow, advancing, "Oh, yes? Perhaps I should kill Sigyn here and now. See how you handle it."

A note of incredulity worming into her voice, Sigyn glares at Thor. "Excuse me. Let me be not a pawn in your quarrel."

Thor waves a hand at her in dismissal, and even Loki ignores her. He jeers at his brother, "The son of Odin, armed with such fearsome threats—"

"Not just of Odin," Thor interrupts, advancing farther on Loki. The tone of his voice has taken on a doleful quality. "You think you alone were loved of Mother? You had her tricks, but I had her trust."

Loki looks as though he can't believe as though his brother has said such a thing to him. "Trust? Was that her last expression? Trust? When you let her die?" He practically spits the last word at Thor, overcome by resentment and grief.

Thor takes a contentious step closer. "What help were you in your cell?"

"Who put me there," Loki quickly rebuts. Then, angrier, he shouts, "Who put me there!"

Shoving Loki back against the engine, causing him to lose his grip of the rudder, Thor yells, "You know damn well! You know damn well who!"

As they squabble, the ship swerves to the side, causing Sigyn to stumble on her way to grab the rudder. She takes hold of it, mindful to hold her body away from the men should their argument descend into a full-scale brawl. They cannot afford to crash in a desolate wasteland right now.

Thankfully, Thor begins to come down from his rage. His fist held up, he takes a deep breath, stepping back from Loki. "She wouldn't want us to fight."

"Well, she wouldn't exactly be shocked," Loki points out, trying to diminish the tension between them. They grin at each other, barely wide enough for her to notice.

"Aww," Sigyn mockingly croons, as though glad they've made up. "Are we finished posturing now?"

Loki gives her an indulgent smile. "Yes, dear." Stepping around Thor, he takes back the rudder from her. Happy to let it go, she moves back from it.

She's startled by Thor suddenly bringing his hand down onto her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Sigyn," he says, his voice oddly somber. "I'd no real intention of killing you."

"No," she can't help but respond, voice unmistakably tinged with sarcasm. "And there I'd been, scared for my life." He makes an unhappy sound, displeased to have had his apology rebuffed. She pays his dissatisfaction no mind. "Anyhow, what is our plan for when we meet the Dark Elves?"

Shrugging, he tells her, "I say we improvise. That usually works."

Unable to tell if he's being serious or not, she tries to keep her eye from twitching. "Right, we're not doing that." She looks over to Loki to make sure he's paying attention. This needs to be a group effort. "Now, let's think this through. Our first consideration is—"

Unfortunately, Loki gets too involved. He challenges her, asking, "I'm sorry, who put you in charge?"

"Have you not been paying attention," she asks him, unmoved by his display of authority. "I did, just now."

Loki gives her an indulgent smile. "Well, considering that I—"

She shushes him, pressing a finger over his lips. "Shut your beautiful face." Embarrassed, Loki turns away, his face burning as his brother barks out a surprised laugh.

"The first consideration is," she repeats harshly, staring at Loki as if daring him to interrupt her again. He stares guilelessly back at her, his lips twisted in amusement. She continues, "How to extract the Aether from Jane, and we have two ways of going about it. First, there's the sure-fire method of killing her—"

"I vote for that one," Loki interjects.

"We are not doing that," Thor intones harshly, frowning at Loki.

Sigyn frowns at him, as well, despite knowing that he'd been joking. Naturally, they've not come all this way simply to kill her. They would have done that in Asgard if it were a realistic alternative. "Loki, please."

Another indulgent smile. "Sorry, love."

She shakes her head, going on as if she hadn't been interrupted, though she can't help the small smile that twists her lips at the term of endearment. "Our second and only legitimate option is giving in to the assumption that Malekith has a way of removing the Aether himself. Unfortunately, we cannot know that his method would not result in her death regardless."

Thor is silent, looking at Jane. After a moment, he mutters, "It's a risk we'll have to take. The Aether will kill her in a matter of hours if we do nothing." Sigyn nods in deference.

Loki speaks, the next step of their plan in his mind. "It's not as though we can ask Malekith for such a favor, though, is it?"

Nodding in contemplation, Sigyn agrees. "Right. We'll have to trick him. To that end, I can't be seen. The big one thinks he killed me. My presence would destroy any illusion we present."

"Can you masquerade as one of Malekith's henchmen," Thor asks her.

"I could," she agrees.

Thor nods, thinking quietly until something occurs to him. His lips quirking up slightly, he points at Loki. "Has the big one seen you?"

"He believes I helped him kill Sigyn," Loki tells him, shrugging.

His grin widens. "I'd wager we can get him to believe that you'd help him kill me, too."

"Come again," requests Loki, his brow furrowed.

"If you betray me before Malekith and present Jane to him, he'll be all too happy to draw the Aether from her as he'll think it an affront to Asgard," he explains. "Then, when the Aether is exposed, we can strike and destroy it."

With this, Thor and Loki seem satisfied with their plan, turning away from each other without another word. Disconcerted by the silent communication to which she had not been privy, Sigyn holds up her hands. "Hold on. What if the Aether cannot be destroyed? How are we to stop Malekith from assuming it?"

Far too cocky, Thor gives her a lenient smile. "Not to worry, Sigyn. Nothing can stand up to Mjolnir."

She gives a mirthless laugh before rendering her face impassive. "Humor me."

Put out, Thor pouts at her. Loki takes her request seriously. "One of us will have to assume it," he determines.

Following his brother's line of thought, Thor points at Loki, firmly stating, "No. I'll not let you take such power for yourself, especially not after what you said earlier."

"Thor, be reasonable—" Loki starts.

"I'll do it," Sigyn interrupts, the conclusion clear in her mind.

Paling in apparent revulsion, Loki stares down at her in disbelief. "Absolutely not," he contests.

"Loki, be reasonable," she mimics. When he gives her an unamused look, she makes to explain her logic. "Of the three of us, I'm the clear choice. I'm trustworthy, expendable—"

In unison, Thor and Loki glare down at her, asserting, "You are not expendable."

Disturbed, Sigyn holds up her hands defensively. It's the most concordant she's ever seen them, and she's not sure she much cares for it. "And my body can likely handle the strain of holding in the Aether until such a time as when we can safely extract it." And I know that I cannot be killed by Malekith as I am already to be killed by Thanos, she thinks but doesn't say.

"And if it can't," Loki demands, the intensity of his stare increasing as he continues to loom over her.

Not one to be intimidated, she contends, "Then, at least, we'll have prevented Malekith from plunging the universe into darkness or whatever the Hel else it is he wants with the Aether."

Clearly, he has no response to that. Still, he maintains his displeasure. "I don't like it."

"Yes, well," she says, pointing up at the sky. Both men follow her gaze, along with Jane, who's serendipitously woken up just now. Together, the four of them watch Malekith's flagship descend from the sky. "I'm afraid we haven't the time to think of anything else."

---

Having landed behind the Dark Elves' ship, Sigyn kills one of the stragglers in Malekith's party as soon as he's clear of the ship's ramp. She makes it quick, jabbing a dagger through his neck as she tells herself not to feel badly about doing so. It could've been him who'd rammed the ship into the military hospital, she rationalizes, he was not a good person. Assuming his form, she leaves him in the shape of a rock as she takes up his position.

Situated far back from Malekith, whose pale, hard-lined face points forward as they move farther through a deserted plain, she watches from afar as Loki, Thor, and Jane make it over the crest of the hill behind which they'd docked their own ship. From what she can tell at this distance, there's some exchange between Loki and Thor before Loki is stabbing Thor in the gut and shoving him down the hill. He jumps after him, Jane soon to follow at a frantic pace.

In seeing the commotion, Malekith moves closer. Along with the rest of his henchmen, Sigyn follows after him.

Thor rolls to a stop at the base of the hill, unable to push himself to his feet before Loki kicks him hard in the side. Absentmindedly, Sigyn wonders how much of this is an illusion and how much is Loki actually abusing him. It's not as though Thor can't take a hit, but still, she hopes Loki hadn't really stabbed him.

They're close enough now for Sigyn to hear them, and Loki is leering down at Thor, crowing, "All I ever wanted was you and Odin dead at my feet!"

Thor tries to summon Mjolnir to him, but Loki grabs his arm before it can get too close. Swiftly, he brings down his blade over Thor's wrist, chopping off his hand. Sigyn winces minutely despite knowing this part isn't real.

It's at this point—with Thor moaning and rolling around on the ground, clutching his faux-severed arm—that Jane finally catches up with them. She falls to her knees at Thor's side, distraught as she surveys his illusory injuries. Loki hauls her to her feet with an arm around her middle, dragging her along as she struggles. He turns to the envoy of elves, calling, "Malekith! I am Loki of Jotunheim, and I bring you a gift." With no further ceremony, he forcibly tosses Jane to the ground at Malekith's feet. Sigyn refrains from groaning aloud. Throwing the sick mortal is entirely unnecessary, in her opinion.

"I ask only one thing in return," he continues, and Malekith tears his gaze away from Jane to look at him. "A good seat from which to watch Asgard burn."

The largest of the elves speaks up, exchanging quietly with Malekith. For whatever reason, Sigyn cannot understand their tongue. Idly, she wonders if it's because the universe has deemed their language dead.

Much to Sigyn and Loki's surprise—though neither of them show it—Malekith strides over to Thor, who hides his face so as to not arouse suspicion as he continues to cry over his wounds. Displeased to not have his attention, Malekith demands, "Look at me." When Thor does not respond, he kicks him onto his back.

Satisfied, Malekith keeps his eyes on Thor as he raises one arm and Jane with it. She's lifted into the air, her arms splaying out as the Aether is drawn from her body. Sigyn watches with her heartbeat thrumming loudly in her ears, nervous as the red relic pours from Jane's eyes, nose, and mouth like blood. When the last of it has been extracted, Malekith drops her to the ground, and she grunts as her legs crumple beneath her.

Not a second to be wasted, Thor shouts, "Loki, now," and puts up his dismembered arm to receive Mjolnir, which flies into his hand the moment Loki's illusion wears off in full. Loki rushes over to shield Jane from the oncoming blast, and Thor thrusts Mjolnir upwards, igniting the Aether with a bright arc of lightning. The Aether seems to scream as he lights it up, attempting to shrink back from his attack. Thankfully, it's of no use, and the relic bursts apart with a flash of red and a resounding boom.

As the dust clears, Sigyn moves out of the crouched position she'd taken and inches forward, ready to jump in should their plan have failed. Her eyes widen as she spies hundreds of red shards rising through the air, coalescing to retake their previous form. At the sight, she surges forward, casting herself over the large elf's head and landing squarely in front of Malekith. His arms are outstretched to receive the Aether, and he looks none-too-pleased to see her thrust her arms out, as well, trying to steal it from him. She stares him down, unwilling to relent even as the elf who had nearly killed her steps closer and her anxiety about letting the Aether possess her reaches a fever pitch.

A tendril of the relic is just barely curling around her longest finger when an invisible force wraps itself around her and tugs her to the side. Having not expected it, she goes flying, landing hard on her side next to Jane. Wild-eyed, she turns to Loki, who's sitting on his knees beside them with a guilty look on his face. "What the Hel are you doing," she shouts at him.

"I'm sorry," he says, moving out of Jane's way as she struggles to her feet. He reaches for Sigyn. "I couldn't let you—"

She bats away his hand. "You selfish idiot!" Not wasting another moment, she heaves herself up, darting around him as she races after Malekith. If he gets onto the ship, they'll have lost the Aether.

As she gets closer, the large elf spots her. He turns around, making to swipe at her with his meaty arm, but she dodges it by turning herself into a sparrow and flying past his shoulder. Once she's close enough to Malekith, she transforms back and puts all her weight and a fair bit of telekinetic energy behind a kick to his jaw.

He goes sprawling, cast dozens of yards back by the kick. She charges after him, lucky that Thor chooses this moment to attack the large elf, who had only just began trailing after her.

"Asgardians," Malekith says as soon as she's reached him. His skin is tones darker than it was before he'd absorbed the Aether, having taken on a dark gray hue. Much as Jane's had, his eyes swirl with black and red. "You are relentless."

"Says you," she jeers, sneering. A part of her is unsettled by the amount of hatred she feels for this man, having never before felt it on this scale. "Come back after thousands of years, and for what? Darkness? You should have just stayed asleep!"

As though unafraid—and he likely isn't, she thinks, equipped as he is with an ancient relic—he strides toward her with purpose. Once he's but a few feet from her, she brandishes her sword. "You cannot fathom what is to come," he tells her, his chin held high.

"No," she intones. "For it never shall." With that, she charges at him, quickly covering the small space between them. He blocks her blade with his arm, and she circles back around him, making to strike again. Unfortunately, when she does, he's ready for her. His arm outstretched, he uses the Aether to send an itchy, burning burst of energy into her chest, and for the second time in a few short minutes, she goes flying.

Ironically, she lands next to Jane this time, as well. The smaller woman helps her up, careful not to let too much of Sigyn's weight fall on her. "Are you okay," she asks.

"Yes, yes, fuck, how was that inside of you," Sigyn prattles, her hand coming up to survey her chest. The metal of her breastplate has been warped, and it presses in awkwardly on her ribs. Begrudgingly, she takes it off, figuring she's better off having full range of movement than the measly protection of a broken piece of armor.

For whatever reason, Jane is answering her rhetorical question. "Well, I was acting as the Aether's host, so it wanted to keep me alive. At least, for a time. You, on the other hand, attacked its host, so—"

"Yes, thank you," Sigyn interrupts, not looking at her. She looks instead at the split battlefield before her, watching Thor get the shit beaten out of him by the large elf and Loki take on five of the smaller ones at once. Summoning a knife, she barely hesitates before throwing it into the neck of an elf trying to get the drop on Loki from behind. Startled, Loki looks around before catching her eye and thereafter returning to his other opponents. "I understand how parasitism works."

"Okay, sorry," Jane apologizes. "I'm a scientist, so I guess I like to explain things."

Sigyn glances briefly at her before starting away. "Well, I'm a soldier, so I like to fight. Stay here." She runs the rest of the way over to Loki, coming in fast enough to knock out the last of his opponents by bringing her elbow down on the back of his neck.

Lowering the blade he'd had up in preparation to slice the man open, Loki remarks, "You know, I think this is the first time you and I have come out on the same side of a fight." He smiles at her, but she hardly notices.

Humming in response, she keeps track of Malekith in her peripheral vision. He's almost back to his ship. He's almost slipped from their grasp. At this rate, they won't be able to stop him from making use of the Aether, and she won't have the chance to avenge her mother.

Loki follows her gaze, noting where her attention lies. "Go," he tells her. "We'll follow you."

Looking back to him, she searches for any sign of uncertainty in his face. When she finds none, she nods in agreement before running a hand across his chest in parting as she passes him.

She sprints to catch up with the few elves returning to their ship, shifting to match their appearance as she gets closer. She steps on board right after Malekith, and the doors close behind them. From this close, she can hear his breathing, but before she has the chance to do anything—bury a knife into his back, for instance—he walks through a doorway and disappears.

That's fine, she tells herself. She'll bide her time until they arrive at whatever location he wants to stage his epic defeat of the present universe. Once there, he'll reemerge from the bowels of the unfamiliar ship, and she can have her revenge.

She hides amongst the elven soldiers for hours, pretending to go about mundane tasks as they travel toward Malekith's mysterious destination. It's horribly nerve-wracking; she's never had to keep up someone else's appearance for so long, and with such dire consequences if she were to be caught.

Eventually, they're ordered to gather by the ship's boarding bay. Malekith stands at the head of his envoy of soldiers, and Sigyn makes sure to position herself close to him. Momentarily, she contemplates killing him now, but she abstains. It's more sensible to be in an open setting, she reasons. Otherwise, she could be apprehended or killed seconds after slaying Malekith.

The ship docks, shaking as it runs aground. It continues for some time until stopping, at which point everyone in herded into a contraption much like the elevator from Stark Tower. They ride down in silence, everyone's blank eyes staring forward. Sigyn stands stock-still, trying to emulate the elves' lifeless stance.

The elevator comes to a stop, and its doors open. A ramp descends from the ship, and they carry themselves down it, Malekith going first. As Sigyn steps onto the ground outside, she takes in her surroundings so as to discern where they are. From the look of the buildings, most of them plain and boxy, it appears as though they're on Earth, though she can't say for sure until she catches sight of any humans.

Soon after Malekith has stepped out onto a paved path that sprawls before the ship, something comes riding in on the wind, and Sigyn practically cheers when she sees that it's Thor. Good, she thinks, he'll distract Malekith.

"You needn't have come so far, Asgardian," Malekith calls out to him, moving closer. He takes no notice of Sigyn moving forward, as well. "Death would've come to you soon en—"

Malekith's last breath gurgles out of him as Sigyn twists the sword she's railed into his back. His body slips off of it as she pulls it out, his dark blood covering her blade. Around her, the other elves hoist their weapons and make to advance on her, but she casts them back with a wave of her hand, trusting Thor to strike them down should they get back up while her back is turned.

Stepping over Malekith's corpse, she tells Thor, "Problem solved. You're welcome."

His troubled frown from before she'd slain Malekith doesn't leave his face. "I'm surprised the Aether didn't attack you."

She shrugs. "He didn't see me coming." Looking around, she begins to wonder, "Where's Loki?" He'll want to know all about her killing Malekith, whether he'd seen it for himself or not. She can picture it now: his smirk all too smug as she admits that yes, killing the man had been more satisfying that she had been expecting.

Thor's eyes drop, and she means to repeat her question, but she finds herself distracted as she's consumed by an itching, burning sensation, much as she had been earlier. Turning around, she sees the Aether unfurling itself from Malekith and reaching out to her, and she doesn't have time to run. It rips through her body at a shockingly fast pace, ravaging every nerve in its wake. She thinks she's screaming, though she's not sure, and she can't feel the ground anymore. From what she can tell, her appendages burn away first, leaving the rest of her to follow.

Once the fire has eaten through her entire body, she finds herself falling through space, galaxies and star clusters passing by her. As she falls, exhaustion sets itself deep in her bones, and she struggles to keep open her eyes. The brilliant, glowing purple light of a nebula flares just before she feels a tug on her right arm. She draws closer to the nebula as it condenses into a small, clouded gem. It twinkles in the void of space before her, surrounded by accompanying lights of orange, yellow, green, and blue. She wonders at the stone, her hand—glowing red—reaching out to touch it.

As she does, a shock of energy rips up her arm. It travels through her body much like the Aether had, setting her every nerve on fire. The universe swallows her scream, rippling in her field of vision like a pool of water as the stone slowly warps into near-mirror image of herself, only the dress she dons is purple instead of blue and she has on a horned crown. This other version of herself is the last thing she sees before the burst of energy makes its way to her core. Something inside of her snaps, breaking with her soul, and she finds herself crashing unfeeling through a wall of still water.

The pain having stopped, Sigyn feels as tranquil as the water incasing her back as her surroundings come into focus again. Looking around, she appears to be in some white void. She takes a step forward, and the endless pool of water moves from where it had been standing to under her feet. It remains as still as ever, even as she takes another step. If not for her foot sinking into it, she'd be sure it's a mirror. In it, she can see her reflection, and she's flummoxed at finding her breastplate to have been returned whence she'd left it on Svartalfheim, completely undamaged.

"Hello," she calls out, thinking her voice will echo. It doesn't.

"Sigyn," a voice answers in question, and she whips around to find Loki lounging on the water. He looks beyond disturbed to see her, scrambling to his feet and rushing over to her. He grabs her hands, and she absentmindedly notes that she can't feel his own. "What happened? Where are you?"

Her confusion growing, she tilts her head to the side. "We're both on Earth, are we not?" Her eyes slide past him, taking in another perspective of the endless sea of white. Perhaps, they're not on Earth. "Where are we," she asks him.

He doesn't answer, and she starts to feel as nervous as he looks. "Loki," she repeats, tugging on his hands. "Where are we? What is this place?"

His mouth opens and closes without his saying anything, hesitation clear on his face. He doesn't want to tell her the truth, but neither does he want to lie. She digs her nails into his palms, hoping the pressure will entice him to answer her honestly, but he doesn't so much as wince. He probably can't feel it, she rationalizes.

He decides on an evasion. "I will tell you everything as soon as I find you."

"When you find me? What—" She stops speaking as a breeze picks up—the first sensation she's felt since arriving here, wherever here is—blowing directly between them. Loki shrinks back from her, his hands slipping away. She makes to follow after him, but finds that she can't. The next thing she knows, he's vanished right before her eyes, his voice lost in the wind in a failed attempt to tell her something.

As soon as the wind disappears, she darts over to where he'd been, searching up and down for any sign of him. Every direction she turns looks precisely the same, and she grows increasingly distressed. Closing her eyes, she tells herself, "I'm dreaming." She takes a deep, steadying breath, repeating herself a few times for good measure. "This isn't real," she adds. When she opens her eyes again, she sees nothing.

---

Sigyn wakes up in a box, shivering and crinkling her nose as soon as her senses return to her. There's frigid air coming out of a vent above her head, tasting faintly of antiseptic and putrescine as she registers that oddly enough, she can't smell anything. The itching, burning feeling from before has left her, as has the numbness she'd experienced in her dream, but the tiredness she'd experienced earlier remains, having ebbed only slightly. Also unlike in her dream, in which everything had been bright white, the space she occupies now is nearly pitch black.

Her hands seek out the box's opening, though they don't find it. Fortunately, this small bit of movement causes the crate she's in to shift in the direction of her feet, so she uses her powers to push herself all the way out of what turns out to be a drawer on a shelf. Bright florescent lights greet her once she's free of the cold box, one of many, she discovers, looking behind her. Her last discovery is the most startling. Across the room, there's a sign above two double-doors: Royal London Hospital Morgue, it reads.

Eyes wide, she jumps from the shelf on which she'd been lying, sliding down to the polished floor. As she does so, the loose shift she's wearing flutters around her knees, and she wonders what's happened to her dress and cape. Taking a tentative step forward, she halts immediately, swaying on the spot. She's almost dizzy with exhaustion, having just enough energy to stay awake, though she feels as though she may keel over if so much as a breeze from the wrong direction jostles her.

With a deep breath, she fortifies herself before embarking anew. The soles of her bare feet stick briefly to the floor with every step as she shuffles over to a small mirror stuck onto the wall above a sink. It's just high enough to capture her face, which is pale and streaked with dried blood. It looks as though someone had tried to clean her up, though they hadn't paid too great attention to detail. Likely because they thought her dead, she realizes.

Disturbed by the thought, this room, her appearance, everything—how much time has passed, she frantically wonders—she stumbles from the room, morphing herself to match the picture of a human healer—so this is Earth, she realizes—with the reminder to wash one's hands that'd been taped beside the mirror. She's able to quickly leave the hospital without arousing suspicion, pushing out onto the street and greeted again by cold air.

The wind nips at her as she hastily walks down the street, skirting around pedestrians as she keeps her eyes peeled for the Dark Elves' ship. It'd been so big, they can't have gotten rid of it already, she's sure.

When she finally spots the ship, it's not in the middle of a courtyard as it had been before. Rather, it's on a large screen in a storefront, surrounded by a crowd of people. Drawn in by the still image of the ship with herself and Thor before it, she joins them. A disembodied voice is droning: "—has reported that not only was the Avenger Sigyn killed in the events of this attack, but so was her husband Loki, the perpetrator of the attacks in Munich and New York City last year."

In her horror, Sigyn inhales too quickly, choking on her breath. Her mind whirls. Loki is dead? That can't be right, she insists. She'd just seen him. That can't be right.

The woman standing next to her interrupts her thoughts. "It's terrible, innit? My brother was in New York when the aliens came. She saved him from one of the big ones crushing him. And now, this other evil bugger kills her. Just terrible."

A surly-looking man leans over to them, joining in their conversation. "You know, my wife works o'er at Royal London. Apparently, 'er body's gone missing. Whole place's in an uproar about it."

Paranoid for some reason that they'll realize who she is—she doesn't know why, it's not as though they'd drag her back to the morgue, she's not really dead—Sigyn steps back and starts down the street again. She's more frantic than ever now, determined to get to the Dark Elves' ship. Thor will be there, and Loki will be, too—damn what that human commentator had said.

Distracted, she steps out onto the street, and a Terran vehicle—a car, she remembers Tony calling it—plows into her from the side.