Avengers Redeux

by zArkham

I am the Watcher. Come with me as I show you the rest of the story of what would happen if Earth lost their mightiest heroes. See how there was an idea which would not be stopped by the horrible crimes fueled by grief. How in the Earth's darkest hours, remarkable people rise and become Avengers. Based on Episode 3 of the Disney show What If? with the bulk of MCU characters.

4. Heist

YE OLDE DISCLAIMER: All Marvel characters and concepts are owned by Disney through Marvel Comics & Marvel Studios. No money is being made off this fair use of these characters for entertainment purposes only.

CHAPTER FOUR – HEIST

PITHY STATEMENT RELATING TO THIS CHAPTER: "One way or another we're taking your bank. All you have to do is decide the level of persuasion we need to apply." (Heroes of Hollywood Boulevard) – David Louden – Irish author – ?-Present

Last Updated: 09-21-2021

NEW YORK-PRESBYTERIAN HOSPITAL, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK – MARCH 4th, 2011 – EVENING

The door opening caused Stephen Strange to look away from the monitors he'd been staring at without really seeing for over an hour.

"Evening, Doc. Still here I see," the dark-skinned nurse said with a smile.

"Hey Claire," Strange said, listlessness evident in his tone.

Nurse Claire Temple chuckled, "You know I should report you for being here long after visiting hours."

Strange look up at her with a startled look only to be met with a smile.

"Relax, Doc. It's nice having someone at a patient's bedside who isn't going to panic if there is any slight change to the readings," Claire said as she began her required checks on the patient, Dr. Christine Palmer. After a bit, she turned to the grim faced man. "You know, normally it's the visitor who asks me how the patient's doing. In this case, I'll make an exception. How is she doing?"

Strange sighed, "Hard to say. I'd tell a loved one the prognosis for recovery was good. However, until she wakes and we can do some cognitive tests we can't be sure. She might wake up fine. She might wake up with impaired motor functions and the like. It's still a waiting game."

Claire turned back to her charts, "And how are you doing?"

Strange sighed again, this one with less sorrow in it, "Well I doubt I'll ever be able to try a do a cerebral hemispherectomy but if physical therapy works out, I should still be able to do basic surgery."

Claire huffed at that, "That's great and terrible at the same time. You were a legend back at Metro-General," She looked at Strange with a sly grin, "A very arrogant, pushy legend."

This caused Strange to almost smile.

"Still, your brain is still good. Maybe you'll be able to do those robot-assisted surgeries or even ones done by remote. That might make up for your injuries. At least your hands are okay, right?" Claire pointed out.

Strange looked at his hands. The minor scrapes and abrasions had long since faded since that fateful day when the Battle of New York raged. The day when he'd been in surgery when suddenly the hospital was hit by something. Stephen still didn't know what destroyed Metro-General hospital or even whether it was the fault of the Asgardians or the Rebels or a combination of both.

All he knew was that he was trapped in the rubble for two days.

Two days where he was surrounded by his dead medical team. All, by some miracle, but one; Dr. Christine Palmer. The woman who Strange realized he loved as he desperately tried to keep the both of them alive. His own injuries had so far left him with a strong facial twitch that might fade in time. Till it did, he couldn't do the exacting intricate level of surgery he'd become famous for.

"Say, I never asked but who finally got you out? I'm still shocked I was saved by one mean-ass looking amazon and her equally mean-looking companion," Claire asked. She quickly added, "Not that my situation was anything like yours,"

Strange looked up at the nurse, "I didn't know that. What happened?"

Claire looked at her watch and saw she had time to talk, "Well I'd been down in ER doing triage. There was so many vehicles of all types bringing the wounded that I was away from the building when it got hit. I don't remember it happening. Just remember waking up trapped between an ambulance which had been blown onto a pick-up truck.

Claire paused as her thoughts went to that moment. How scared she'd been with the fighting still raging overhead. "After a bit, some Asgardians showed up. Not sure why. Still they seemed inclined to help given it was a hospital. As I said, this big Xena-looking woman heard my cries for help. She just up and tossed the ambulance away and her buddy carried me like I didn't weigh a thing. They took me to where the evac station had been set up and left before I could even thank them. The scary thing is I've heard that the woman was just one of their normal warriors. It's really unbelievable how strong they all are!"

Strange nodded at that. He'd already seen other doctor's reports of working on Asgardian prisoners or doing it under pressure by the occupying force. Their resilience was incredible.

Strange was silent for a moment before he answered the earlier question, "Well believe it or not, but Dr. Palmer and I got saved by this rather petite, goth looking woman. She came at a good time. The debris had begun to shift and I was expecting to be crushed. I'm still amazed neither of us died of hypothermia given how cold it was.

Strange thought back at how at first he was worried about smoke inhalation and fire. Then had come the cold, December night. They'd been lucky the debris had kept some of the heat in.

His facial twitch broke him out of those thoughts, "Anyway, all of a sudden this woman jumps down and just starts pushing the load away from us. Then a very muscular man showed up. He wasn't as strong as the woman but he seemed to be incredibly tough. While they were working, a slab crashed down with these pieces of re-bar sticking out. A normal person would have been skewered. It just bounced off and I'm not sure if he even noticed it that much. The pair got things cleared enough for the follow-on rescuers to get to us.

Strange noticed that Claire had an odd look on her face, "I know it's a rather unbelievable story."

Claire shook her head, "It's not like that. Was the woman really foul mouthed?"

Strange blinked at this, "Yes, rather badly I might say."

"And the guy was a big, bald black man, right?" Claire asked.

Strange blinked again, "You know them?"

Claire laughed, "You meet a lot of interesting types on the ER graveyard shift, Doctor Strange. Some bring in people for help. Others need some medical help on the sly. The woman was Jessica Jones. She is a P.I. The other is Luke Cage and he runs a bar whose name I can't remember. It might not be there anymore with all the damage. Anyway, they're good people. The funny thing is they aren't even the weirdest person with powers I've met."

Claire frowned, "Although I haven't heard from him since the battle. I'm actually pretty worried."

"Well before you jump to a nasty conclusion, it's rather likely he was part of the evacuees," Strange pointed out. "With all the damage, there are still plenty of people who don't have homes to come back to."

Claire's watched beeped and she made a face. "Gotta run, Doc. Don't want to piss off the new employer since they so generously agreed to hire us Met-Gen folk without a fuss. But it's been good talking to you, Doc. Us Met-Gen survivors need to stick together."

"Yes, it was good talking to you as well," Strange said as he watch the nurse go on to her next patient. She was right about being hired straight away. However, the battle had killed a lot of people and any sort of medical personnel were in short supply. As soon as he'd been able to, Stephen had pitched in as much as his injuries allowed. He might not be able to do an extremely delicate procedure anymore but he could deal with most of the injuries coming into the ER without any problem.

A funny feeling made Stephen look up to find he was not alone. A bald, black man wearing a vaguely Asian outfit in ochre was calmly smiling down at him. His surgical training allowed him not to flinch and so he simply calmly asked, 'May I help you?"

The man's smile deepened, "Yes you can. I ask that for the next few hours that you open your mind to things outside of your understanding at this point in your life. If you can do that, things will go much more smoothly."

At the thought of the impossible, Stephen felt a spike of concern, "Are you an Asgardian?"

The man had a deep, rich laugh, "No, I'm originally from Haiti. My name is Master Daniel Drumm. Of late, my duties have brought me here to New York. My current duty is to escort you to meet my…boss if you will."

Stephen's eyes narrowed, "I take it I don't have a choice in this?"

Drumm's smiled faded, "I'm afraid not. A potential great change has occurred. One with far-reaching consequences which truly could change the fabric of reality itself. Thus we do not have the luxury of a polite invitation. However, I give you my word that no harm will come to you. Merely keep an open mind as I asked and listen to the opportunity which will be offered to you."

Strange stood. In the past he probably would simply have yelled for security. But with the coming of the Asgardians, impossible things seemed to be the order of the day.

"Very well. Do I need to do some mental stretches before we start?" he asked in a droll voice.

Again the man laughed, "No, but you might want to step back a bit."

With that the man thrust out his left hand which had some form of gold jewelry on it and began to make circular motions with his right. Suddenly a circle of golden energy appeared. It grew and to Stephen's amazement, he could see a city street on the other side. "Please step through, Dr. Stephen Strange. Your new life awaits."

Carefully Stephen did as he asked. He found himself suddenly somewhere else. Behind him Drumm followed. "A short hop," the man said genially.

"Greenwich Village…we're still in New York City," Stephen breathed out in amazement.

He found himself gazing up at a building with interesting architecture and a skylight with some form of symbol on it.

Drumm made a gesture toward the building, "We are. This is the Sanctum Sanctorum. It is one of seven such sanctums in the world. Each in a City of Power with a long history. I am the Master and Defender of this one."

Strange looked around, "How come no one noticed us…get here."

Drumm chuckled, "Stephen, can't you guess? Magic of course."

"Magic," Stephen almost drawled out.

Drumm nodded, "I told you that you would have to keep an open mind. As hard as it might seem to believe, or at least before the Asgardians came, I am a sorcerer. Myself and my fellow wizards defend this reality via these Sanctums. While the invaders from Asgard have done terrible things, there are worst dangers lurking outside our dimension. Dangers which even the Æsir might easily fall prey to."

Stephen didn't say anything as he processed this. His analytical mind wanted to just disbelieve it out of hand. But the man was right. The Asgardians openly boasted that much of what they did was via magic. Prince Loki was supposedly a master of magic himself.

Drumm gestured to the door, "Come, the Ancient One awaits."

Drumm led him into the building and up a flight of stairs, "Normally the Ancient One, the head of our Order, stays in Kamar Taj in Tibet. It is there the Ancient One, the Sorcerer Supreme, oversees our Order's training in the mystic arts. However as each Sanctum is connected to each other as well as Kamar Taj, she has come to us."

"Where was she when we needed her back in December," Stephen muttered under his breath.

"I was here, Stephen Strange. I was helping protect this Sanctum. Sadly while our neutrality helps keep the Æsir from using terrible magicks, it does limit how much we can help," Came a woman's voice from his right.

Both men turned to see a bald Caucasian woman in robes similar to Drumm's leaving some room with a door which looked like an ornate vault door. Drumm quickly gave a deep bow, "Master."

"Daniel, I've checked the wards. They still need to be adjusted and strengthened. I will take the good doctor off your hands. Mordo has already started."

Drumm gave another slight bow, "I will get to it straight away then." He quickly went through the door which shut with an ominous clang. Which was surprising give it looked to be made of wood.

Stephen looked back to see the Ancient One watching him. She had an ageless quality to her. Not at all what one expected from her title.

She smiled, "Come, let us have some tea to settle your nerves. I apologize at how quickly this all has to be. However, as I shall explain, things that were meant to be have changed."

Stephen merely nodded dumbly before following her to a room which either was a library or just one with a lot of books and odd artifacts. They sat at a small table which already had a tea set laid out. The woman poured and for a few silent minutes, Stephen was content to sip the very invigorating tea.

Finally he set the cup and saucer down, "So…what can a skilled neurosurgeon do for you? I warn you my injuries are keeping me from performing the types of delicate work you may need of me."

The Ancient One chuckled, "No, Stephen. I don't need your help as a surgeon. I need you to take up your destiny early."

Stephen stared at her for a moment before drawling out, "Okay."

The woman merely smiled, "Let me start with a bit of cosmology." She stood and with some gestures created a circle of light around her. A circle which looked to be made up of differently colored lines.

"This is a representation of time. It is not the linear line from one point to another. It is a loop where the past, present and future are all happening at the same time. Or at least it does to one standing where I am."

Stephen frowned, "Are you saying that everything is already set?"

The Ancient One cocked an eyebrow, "In a way yes. But do not think this means you do not have free will. Your choices are your own. However, from a larger cosmological sense, yes there is no free will because this loop of time is such that only one future is possible regardless of what people choose to do or not to do. You can choose to skip, run or saunter along this path. Yet at the same time, it is the only path for you to travel. Eventually, the end is the same."

Stephen frowned, "That implies something or someone has ensured there is only one path."

The Ancient One looked surprised and clapped her hands, "Very good, Stephen. Many a master sorcerer take a much longer time before they grasp this. It will become important as we shall see. Now what I'm about to say is something few beings are privy too. I know of it due to this"

She made an elaborate hand motion and the odd necklace she was wearing opened up to reveal a green glowing stone. "This is the Eye of Agamotto. It is a magical artifact created by a previous Sorcerer Supreme to harness the Time Stone."

"Right, the Time Stone," Stephen dead-panned.

The Ancient One chuckled, "Such a simple name for such a power. Do not be fooled by its small size. This stone is one of six such stones created in the aftermath of the Big Bang and scattered throughout the known universe. With the Reality Stone, for example, one could change a planet to whatever one desired with but a thought. Another stone, the Space Stone can create portals anywhere that exists. Ironically this very stone is also on Earth right now. Yet till recently, its nature was disguised by its own cube-like housing. Since World War 2, it has been used to power machines and batteries instead of its true capabilities. Many of the machines which fought in the Battle of New York were powered with such energy."

"Huh," was all Stephen could get out. As Drumm had warned, his sense of what could or couldn't be was taking a beating.

"Using the Eye of Agamotto in defense of this reality has brought me a greater understanding of time. It has also granted me the sight to see things outside the normal realm," the Ancient One explained. "Throughout my long life I've been able to use the Eye to look forward into the future. To see the most likely outcome of events. While the details often seemed to change, there was always a point I couldn't see past. The point of my death," She said grimly as she made another gesture to close the Eye.

Stephen nodded. It would make sense one couldn't see past where they ceased to exist.

Seeing his understanding, she continued. "A death due to my wounds fighting one of my own followers. One who had been seduced by one of the cosmic entities who hungers to add our reality to his own. As I said, minor details changed over the years, but the outcome always was the same."

She suddenly had a mischievous grin, "Except there were many times in my life when this wasn't the case. When things would change."

She gestured back to the circle of light surrounding her. "As I've said, time is a loop, unbroken and unblemished. However, it isn't always such."

With another gesture, branches began to grow from the various colored lines that made up the ring. From these branches, smaller branches also began to grow and still smaller branches from those.

"There are times when time explodes into a multiverse of unimaginable possibilities. Where what was meant to be is not fixed. Yet it never lasts for long."

She reached down and grabbed the main circle and ran her fist all around. As she did so, the branches disappeared back to the previous loop.

"Again, something or someone is working so that only one outcome is inevitable," Stephen said with a nod.

"Exactly," the Ancient One said and waved the circle out of existence. She sat back down and took a sip of tea. "Two years ago something new happened. I felt the break in time. I could use the Eye to see time beginning to branch off again. Yet this time, things did not snap back. It is rare the return to the main timeline takes more than a few days. Two months is the longest it has ever taken to coalesce back and we are far past that now. Changes are piling up. Changes which make the previous ending unlikely."

"How does this all affect me? I'm just a surgeon. A great surgeon but just a doctor at the end of the day," Stephen asked.

The Ancient One was silent for a moment. "Stephen, as I said, I've looked forward, looked to where my sight fails when I die. While the details, as I've said, often differ slightly, this is what I had seen."

She was silent for another longer moment before looking him in the eye, a purposeful look on her face. "So much that has happened lately which is different. Thor's death and those of the other heroes did not happen. Due to this, Asgard had no cause to invade. However, next year Loki would have invaded New York. Yet instead of being at the head of the host of Asgard, he was doing so at the behest of a galactic mad-man using troops provided by him. This invasion is stopped by the very people, these Avengers, who Hank Pym murdered."

"Did I get injured in that battle?" Stephen asked.

She shook her head, "No Stephen. During the entire attack, you were busy in surgery just as you were in this one before your hospital was hit. However, in late 2016, you are meant to be seriously injured in a car accident. Your hands injured to the point where they couldn't hold a scalpel due to the shaking. This devastated you. You could not accept your life as a surgeon was over."

Stephen could only nod at that. He'd taken his current injuries hard and only the hope the twitch would go away kept him from despair.

"You would end up wandering the world looking for a cure. After meeting a former pupil of mine who had decided not to pursue the life of magic, your quest led you to Kamar Taj looking for a cure. A cure we could not give you. What we could give you was a chance to take up the road of sorcery. Your mental discipline and experience had you gain a mastery of the mystic arts that most take years to get close to," the Ancient One explained.

"Hard to believe but then again with everything else I can see the possibility," Stephen mused. With his current state being hopefully temporary, Stephen could only imagine what he might be like if he couldn't even hold a scalpel. It wasn't a pretty mental picture.

The Ancient One chuckled, "The tale grows, my good doctor. It is not long before the Master Kaecillius and the others who were swayed by the lies of the Dread Dormammu attacked this very Sanctum. Master Drumm was killed and you were severely injured before I arrived to give you time to flee to where Dr. Palmer could work on your injuries and save your life. As I said, I was injured and would later die of my injuries in the same hospital."

Strange made a face, "Doesn't sound like things were going well."

"No, but from other aspects of the mystic arts, I already knew you would go on to become a great sorcerer, maybe the best of us. That you would overcome Kaecillius and go on to continue to protect our dimension," The Ancient One said with conviction.

"So that's what was. What is going on now?" Stephen asked.

The Ancient One smiled, "That is where it gets intriguing. No matter how the details shifted, I always met my death through the injuries I suffered in a battle with Kaecillius and his minions. That cannot happen now."

"Why not," Stephen asked. "Did he have a change of heart?"

The Ancient One looked sad, "No. He and his followers were doing research in Damascus on Fimbulwinter Friday. None survived the icy onslaught."

Stephen mulled that over. "Okay, so if that means you can't die at their hands, where do I fit in this? Shouldn't I be okay to keep to my life as a surgeon?"

The Ancient One shook her head, "I wish it could be so. However, during the time when reality was in flux, I always noticed one thing. While a small change could cause huge effects, so many of the details remained the same. I believe it is because even with the changes, we are back to free will. If things are similar enough, people choose to react similarly regardless of which reality they are in. Again and again I would see people ending up in similar situations even though things had markedly changed."

"So you're saying I have to become a master of the mystic arts?" Stephen asked.

"Must you? Perhaps not. However, there seems to be truth in the legends where those who try to defy Fate go down to bad ends. Yet with things changing, things may change for the better or worse. I already know that you, Stephen Strange, have the capacity to be an incredible sorcerer. One good enough to take up being the Sorcerer Supreme from me. With all due respect to your good works as a surgeon, your potential of a master of the mystic arts creates an enormous opportunity to do so much greater works on a much grander scale."

"So that's what you meant about not having the time to be polite," Stephen said after a moment of reflection.

"Yes, things are changing and even with the Eye it is difficult to make sense of it all. I do, however, feel that this change, unlike the ones before, is fundamentally different. That maybe things will not snap back to the master time line. Something I fear which would mean we'd be wiped all out of existence. It is very obvious to me that we have gone far enough away from the main time line to be forced back. Our branch would have to be cut away in order for the previous timeline to be restored to what it was."

"You might have wanted to lead with that," Strange pointed out.

The Ancient One laughed, "My point, Stephen, is we need you now. However, we might need you even more in the future. For while I do not want to be erased from existence, if the multiverse continues, then there is the possibility of different realities attacking each other."

"What? Why?" Strange asked.

"Why does anyone go to war? A lust for power, greed and the like," the Ancient One said. "All I know is that right before the multiverse collapses back, I get a hint of a great war. A war where there is one singular being who is at the center. Or I should say all the various versions of this being fight among themselves. They fight and one is finally victorious and the multiverse is compressed back into the master time line again."

"Hmm, it seems this answers my question about someone working to keep one time line. If everyone is fighting for their own reality, it stands to reason that only one reality would be allowed to exist. The one of the winner," Stephen reasoned.

"I agree. That you have been taken from your former life and had your entire world changed but still went right to the heart of a matter few might understand shows one reason why you can be such a great sorcerer. A sorcerer I believe our reality may need."

Strange thought about it for a moment. He was a surgeon and a damned good one. Even if the twitch continued, he could still be saving lives. Yet that seemed almost petty now given the stakes the Ancient One laid out. Refusing to go back to save a few hundred lives against potentially their entire reality being snuffed out seemed an easy choice to make.

There was only one problem…

The Ancient One surprised him by seemingly reading his thoughts, "While we may look the part, Steven, we are not sexless monks. Your love of Christine Palmer is not forbidden. If anything it is encouraged. There is a reason I am called the Ancient One. And while you might not live the centuries I have, sorcerers who do not die in battle live very, very long lives. A life such as that without never knowing love is dangerous. True, there is still pain. I loved my first husband and the children I bore him deeply. He is centuries dead and my family has spread far from my ancestral home. Yet even now, I still miss him. I still can feel his kisses on my neck every time I fiddle with a necklace clasp. He always loved to tease how I was a master of magic and yet fumbled with such a simple task."

She looked sad and yet happily nostalgic for a moment, "Yet I also miss the many men and the few women I have loved over the centuries. I mourn them as pass but I continue to forge on. Yet that pain is nothing to the joy they gave to me. The first love is important, Stephen. Christine Palmer is important to you, Stephen. I cannot force you to take up the ways of magic but regardless of what you decide, do not let her slip away. Your love of her and hers of you may determine whether or not the rest of your potentially long life is one of joy or pain."

Strange thought of the woman still in a coma back at the hospital. How his love for her crystalized even as the possibility she would die in his arms was high. How she had always tried to break him out of the shell of work he'd wrapped around him like a cloak going back to his teen years. How he knew what she would say if she was here with him now.

He locked eyes with the Ancient One, "You are right. I will not let her slip away. And yes, I will take up the ways of magic."

The Ancient One's smile was serene but Strange could almost feel a warmth radiating from her. "Then let us begin seeing how your Fate which was shall mirror now what is. You have much to learn."

XxXxX

ÍSSTÓLL, TONSBERG, NORWAY, MARCH 20th, 2011 – LATE AFTERNOON (GM+2)

Phil Coulson struggled to rein in his emotions as he looked at the castle rising up on a cliff overlooking Tonsberg's fjord. Even with all the frenzied training, he felt out of his league. He'd been given the Yellowjacket armor as he was the only one of the 'Bug' team who had any sort of leadership training. Beyond the mind-numbing ability to shrink, the armor had all sorts of abilities Phil was still struggling to master as quickly as he could.

Yet none of his training had ever prepared for today's mission. To steal the Cask of Ancient Winters and deny the Asgardians their most potent weapon. A weapon Loki had unleashed again after the Battle of New York. Why he froze parts of Washington D.C. instead of New York City was something that had been hotly debated until their wizard liaison Wong brought the news that Queen Frigga herself had stopped Loki from doing so.

Apparently New York City was one of the Seven Cities of Power. This turned out to mean they were a city which housed a Sanctum which protected Earth from extra-dimensional threats. Not only that but the leader of their order, the Sorcerer Supreme, had been trained by Frigga long ago and the Asgardian Queen knew all about the sanctums. Wong had said that even the Asgardians wouldn't want to give any of the many extra-dimensional threats like the tyrant Dormammu of the Dark Dimension a way into the Nine Realms.

Phil licked his lips and looked at his two partners in this heist. He wished he could see their faces under their helmets. Were they as nervous as him? Bill Foster had been a teacher of quantum physics yet he had taken up the Ant-Man suit with nary a blink due to his previous work with Hank Pym. Coulson felt that it was likely Ava Starr was the most ready for this mission given her previous work as the SHIELD assassin known as the Ghost.

Luckily for her, the various big brains had figured out a way to stabilize her condition. Phil was sure he hadn't been the only one to be shocked that the Tesseract, the cube which had been experimented on since the 40's was actually merely the housing hiding an amazing secret. That being it was actually one of six fundamental aspects of this universe's reality. This fundamental aspect was the Space Stone which could create portals to almost anywhere.

It was this function which allowed Bill Foster to cure her. By creating a micro-portal, one which was basically a doorway, passing through it forced all the out-of-synch elements to be consolidated back into quantum homeostasis. However, because of this prior condition, she was amply suited to deal with the use of the Pym particles.

Phil had to say he'd been surprised when he came up as another. He had always assumed the Pym particles worked on everyone equally. The truth was not everyone's system dealt with having their body compressed and enlarged via the quantum element inherent in the Pym particles.

With the current limited ability to generate new Pym particles (even Bill Foster didn't know the full procedure well enough to do more than make a token amount at a time) they were only left with Hank Pym's original Ant-Man suit Bill Foster took up. Ava's Wasp suit that had either been a spare for the late Janet van Dyne or Hank had made it for his daughter Hope before their estrangement led Hope to joining SHIELD. A move which led to her death and beginning her father down the road of revenge which had brought them into this predicament in the first place.

Due to her experience as an assassin and later her work in industrial espionage, Ava carried a special artifact given to them by Master Daniel Drumm of the New York City Sanctum on direction of the Sorcerer Supreme. Phil had dubbed it a 'Bag of Holding' which Master Drumm had said wasn't far from the truth. It was needed for anyone outside the power level of Odin or a Frost Giant like Loki was, would be frozen solid in seconds if they touched the Cask. The bag would allow them to transport the Cask of Ancient Winters to the London Sanctum due to it being closest to Loki's palace. The sorcerers assured them they were confident in being able to keep the Asgardians from reclaiming it till a place was found to stash it safely.

Sadly the sorcerers couldn't be the ones to hide it. They were oath-bound not to interfere. They were the keepers of the Sanctums and their neutrality was taken very seriously by them. Loki's use of such a powerful magical item to kill so many had made them a bit more willing to help. As Master Drumm had said, fighting in battle with normal weapons was one thing. The Cask was a magical weapon of mass destruction. One that easily could end up damaging one of the Sanctums. Thus they felt their help was warranted to prevent this.

Phil still found it amazing none of the few remaining nuclear weapons not neutralized by the Asgardians, mostly hidden on submarines, hadn't been used so far.

Forcing his mind back to the present, Phil was happy that for all his SHIELD training that it was Bill Foster who finally said, "I think that opening on the far right turret is our best option. While there are places with more work being done, I think that not only would there be more people but it would be the obvious entry point and so might have some magical ward or something. Which is what I think my suit thinks the odd energy field I'm seeing in those places might be."

Phil nodded, "Right. If they're using magic as part of the construction process, the closer they are to completion the more they'd probably need to use more fine-tuned magicks which a major ward might interfere with."

Foster shrugged, "That sounds logical but then again I'm a scientist. If it wasn't for playing D&D back as a teen, I wouldn't have a clue on what to expect from magic. It's sad the fate of the world might depend on Gary Gygax."

Phil had to chuckle, "I doubt all my World of Warcraft time will be much help." He looked at Ava, "How does this all sound to you?"

She shrugged, "Like you say, who knows with magic? Still, it does make sense that the closer they are to being finished with a section that there will be less people and possible lower security before it's integrated into the main ward scheme. And yes, my suit seems to show multiple energy fields. Hopefully there aren't more inside we have to dodge. With Loki being able to deal with Pym when he was shrunk, we can't just assume our small size will protect us."

Phil sighed, "Well we've delayed enough; let's do this."

Two grueling, nail-biting hours later, the Bug team felt they had been successful in getting in without detection. The workers all went about their business and the various guards very much looked like bored guards Phil had seen so many times before in his time with SHIELD. If they had been detected, the general alarm had not been raised.

The three were watching the door to what seemed to be a temporary throne room. All were shrunk to ant size. It was convenient and was an actual pre-set size for all of their suits. However, before the mission, Foster's Ant-Man suit had been adapted to use the same flight backpack the Yellowjacket suit had. This would keep Foster from having to ride an ant around to fly.

"Where to now, do you think?" Foster asked over their suit's comm system.

"Hard to say," Phil mused. "On one hand, you'd expect it to be in some secure area. But on the other hand, Loki is about the only person on the planet except for maybe the Ancient One who could safely touch it. Loki could be using it as a foot-stool in his throne room for all we know.

Ava shook her head, "No. He'd display it. Loki is a diva as well as a Prince. He wouldn't be so crass as to use it as a foot-stool. He would, however, probably have it prominently displayed near him. A visual reminder of his power."

Phil nodded, "Well our intel has shown that Loki does have his detractors even before it became known he's actually a Frost Giant. [*] You're right. He'd want to have it on display to remind the Asgardians that not only is he in charge but only he can use this terror weapon. The question is, if he's a diva, where would he display it for maximum exposure?"

The three fell silent. Yet after a patrol went by, Foster spoke up, "What about that great hall? The one we avoided because of how many people were around? By what I've seen, people moving around this castle are going to intersect that hall a lot. Just the place to have statues, banners and the like to promote Loki's rule. Hell, almost every college I've been in has a similar sort of thing. I'm betting that sort of vanity is universal."

Ava nodded, "Having the Cask there to subtly remind everyone about what power Loki has backing him up would also make a lot of sense. Remember, our spies have found that Loki took over while the Asgardian king was in a healing coma. With his primary heir dead, this Odin is using this occupation as a test. So Loki's rule here and back at home might be a lot more tenuous. Hell, the old geezer banished his own son to try and teach him a lesson so he could be worthy to be king."

Foster snorted, "That plan didn't end well, that's for sure."

Ava waved a hand in irritation at this, "It doesn't matter. It shows that blood isn't the main thing. It's your actions. Look how hard these guys work to die in battle so they can get into their Valhalla. Even if Loki is from the giant's royalty and raised by Odin himself, he still has to prove he can do the job well enough that if Odin does confirm him, the people will accept it. Thor died as part of his trial due to Pym's machinations. So that tells me while they all hail him, Loki's own people are watching and judging him. So it makes sense that Loki would respond by trying to remind them of what he can do to them just as much as he has done to us."

Phil nodded slowly, "Makes sense. Merit is great but having a weapon like the Cask that it seems few outside of Loki can safely use might be just enough to keep enough of the Asgardians to want to keep their heads down and go along with his rule."

Ava jabbed a finger at him, "Exactly! So stealing this might be enough to push them into challenging his right to rule. I mean if we get out of this, we'll have taken their greatest weapon out of their literal seat of power here on Earth. That won't look good on his royal resumé."

"Sounds good to me. I still think it would be better to wait till after the feasting when most of them will be outside holding their rituals. I mean wasn't it the whole point of doing this on Ostara was that they'd be distracted?" Foster asked.

Both Phil and Ava shook their heads. "You're thinking of it the wrong way, Bill. Yes, it might make it easier for us. But you need to look at it from their perspective. We know they're going to try and kill us. But would you have them do it because we interrupted their Christmas dinner or their Easter Church Service?"

Ava nodded, "We don't need them riled up because we disrespected their religion. Even with how much Asgardians eat, I'll take pissing them off by taking them away from their table than doing something they'd see as sacrilegious."

Bill held up his hands, "Okay, okay! I'm just the quantum physics teacher here and not super-spies like you two. Still, now that I think on it, I know how distracted hungry students can get. The smell from the kitchen has been killing me for the last hour. I think getting past some guards who are hungry with their minds on getting to the feast as soon as possible can't help but be in our favor."

Phil nodded, "I agree."

OoOoO

Phil cursed as he dodged another thrown axe. These Asgardians were like insane Australians lobbing boomerangs around. Insane but accurate Australians. If not for his ability to shift size, Phil knew he would have been dead within minutes of the alarm being raised.

Apparently being hungry only made Asgardians edgy and angry, Phil thought irreverently. That and one thing none of them had thought of was because the feasting hall was on the same floor as their best bet of finding the Cask meant almost all of the Asgardians had been on the same as well. So beyond hungry guards, they had pissed off warriors called away from their table.

At least it meant most of them weren't in armor. With how tough Asgardians were, Phil would take any break he could get. And they needed all the breaks they could get right now.

While splitting up seemed to warrant certain death in horror films, right now it had had to be done in order to draw fire from each other even as they all were searching for the Cask. Phil wished each had a Bag of Holding because those who didn't find it could cover the one who did.

But that just wasn't in the cards.

Neither it seemed, was just sneaking away while shrunk. Everywhere Phil tried to fly and break contact just brought him face-to-face with more angry Asgardians. Now that the alarm had been sounded, it seemed they had a way to track him even when he got small.

Even with all the suit's speed and weapons, Phil soon found himself cornered in one of the unfinished rooms with his back against the wall. Surrounding him in a semi-circle were a lot of very angry warriors who were working up their courage to brave his Yellowjacket energy blasters. They had proven powerful enough that even the hardy Asgardians were loath to take a hit more than once.

Phil was running through his options when a voice cried out from the back of the room, "Hold!"

Most of the warriors turned to see who had called. To Phil's amazement the surrounding warriors made a hole to allow the speaker to come through.

Phil's heart sank. He knew who the blond, Errol Flynn look-alike was. Wherever Agent Killmonger had ended up, he still logged a very precise contact report to include video from his body-cam all agents had built into their uniform or armor. While Fandral the Dashing looked like the sort of hero one might see on a romance novel cover, he was still death on two feet. What he had done to the Red Guardian proved that.

There was some grumbling from the warriors. This seem to just amuse the jovial looking warrior, "Come now, my good fellows, grumble not! It is my right to take this kill. He may not have been part of those who so basely killed my boon companion but I claim his life as partial payment against that death. For I and Volstagg will not rest till enough wergild in blood is paid by those who have broken the Warriors Three."

This speech seemed to mollify the warriors and they all moved away to give Fandral room.

The warrior in question gave a jaunty salute to Phil with his sword, "Do not make me wait, my bug-like friend. Your doomed adventure has kept me and my companions here from our meal and delayed us our sacred rituals. Don't spoil it further by delaying the inevitable. Besides, Hogun the Grim is likely growing impatient waiting in Valhalla for him to be avenged."

The smug look on Fandral's face angered Phil even more than Fandral's belief that his victory was assured, "Almost a billion dead and entire nations crushed under ice and you are complaining about being late for dinner? If wergild is owed for Hogun's death, how much of your people's blood will we need to shed to balance accounts?"

"Bah! Wergild for those mortals? A billion more could be put down and still there would be too many of you mortals! The life of a champion like Hogun is still worth more than their deaths. He has helped keep the peace in the Nine Realms for centuries. I say, we Warriors Three have been on campaigns that lasted longer than one of your life-times. You all are as ephemeral as smoke from a candle and as useful as such," Fandral said affably. His words caused many of the warriors to give hoots of agreement and other rude comments.

Phil primed his blasters and centered himself. He might not feel like an Avenger but he certainly was going to try to go out as one if needed. He hoped if things went badly that his face would be as defiant in death as Alexi's had been.

"You speak of how unworthy we are. How weak and worthless compared to you. Why then are you all having so much trouble keeping us down? Perhaps if you didn't spend so much time preening in front of the mirror and working on your hair, you and your buddies here might actually get something done outside these walls. Or maybe you'd get killed like those in New York or in Idaho. None of Hogun's party came back, you know. I figure one of the Warrior's Three and an entire warband killed was pretty impressive for one's afternoon's work," Phil said with a confident air he certainly wasn't feeling. Still, angry bad guys made mistakes. He'd seen that often enough with SHIELD. His fellow SHIELD agent Bobbi 'Mockingbird' Morse had practically weaponized such taunts.

An angry shout went up and Fandral's happy look turned as cold as the ice covering up much of Washington. "I gave you a chance for an honorable death. Yet you fling it back in my face. How disappointing. Well if I have to put you down like I did that boor in the land of the Rus, so be it."

"Maybe I just think you're pretty full of yourself thinking you can kill me," Phil shot back.

The cold look in Fandral's eyes turned to anger and quicker than Phil thought possible from a complete stop, Fandral leapt forward, his sword already aiming to take Phil's head off.

Yet as fast as the Asgardian was, he couldn't outrun the speed of light and all four of the Yellowjacket's energy blasters shot him in the chest causing the warrior to be flipped head over heels…

…only to have him land on his feet with an angry smile, "Oh basely done!"

A string of Fury's favorite curses went through Phil's mind as Fandral attacked again. At least it did seem to Phil that the warrior hadn't just shrugged off the attack. His green outfit chest area was smoking and a good bit of his goatee had been burnt off. Phil hope Fandral never noticed. He figured a dandy like him would probably pull a Hulk if he found out his hair had been damaged.

The two began a deadly dance. Phil thanked his lucky stars that his energy blaster arms were tough enough to block Fandral's sword or he'd have been killed in the first minute of that battle. He bobbed and weaved and shot Fandral when he could. More often than not the man dodged but that did give Phil an opportunity to shrink and attack the man physically using the suit's super-strength while shrunk to get in some good hits.

Unfortunately he couldn't just stay shrunk as one near miss of Fandral's sword made it obvious that if Phil took a hit while shrunk, he was a goner.

Still, Phil was happier than ever the Asgardians loved a good fight as the rest of the warriors did little but cheer as if at a WWF match. If just one had joined Fandral, Phil knew it would be all over.

After landing a powerful upper-cut to the chin, Phil managed to make Fandral stagger back. This made the surrounding warriors go silent. Fandral wiped some blood from his nose. His face distorted by anger. "Enough! I won't sully my honor fighting the likes of you. One who uses trickery instead of fighting like an honest warrior. Lads, how about you show him how real warriors fight?

A cheer went up even as Phil saw red, "Ah, you are all for the fight when you think you can roll right over someone. But when things get tough, suddenly your honor isn't up for it. Like how it was with the Red Guardian. You did the same thing! Alexi was keeping pace with you till you let your bully-boys rough him up so you could saunter in and mutilate him! Hypocrites! None of you have a shred of honor!"

Fandral didn't have to give an order as the warriors surged forward in anger.

Phil didn't care. He suddenly realized that while they could follow him when he was small, that might not apply well when he wasn't moving far from one point. So Phil shrunk to the pre-set size below ant size. He easily avoided the warriors as he flew low towards Fandral.

"You can shrink all you want little man, you'll never get out…wait, what is this?"

The warriors all turned to Fandral who seemed like he was doing a frantic dance as he kept hitting up along his right pant leg. "What deviltry is this?"

Before anyone could speak, Fandral's eyes went wide as he dropped his sword and grabbed his buttocks with both hands. "This is beyond dishonorable! This is…is…"

Fandral never finished his sentence. To the horror of all present, Fandral's entire body exploded outwards, flesh, bone and blood flying everywhere. Where the once proud champion of the Warriors Three stood, now stood the Yellowjacket, covered in blood and viscera.

Looking at the horrified faces (and the backsides of those who turned away to vomit up what little of the feast they had had prior to the alarm being raised) the Yellowjacket gave a jaunty salute, obviously mocking the now very dead Fandral.

"Catch me if you can!" Phil taunted before shrinking down and flying out the door with only a few warriors having enough wits to shake off their horror at what they'd seen to pursue.

OoOoO

Ava cursed under her breath in Spanish. For some reasons these curses made her feel better than those her British parents used when they didn't think she could hear them growing up. If things got any worse, she'd break out some of the German curses she learned in high school in Argentina from the ex-pats who'd fled Germany after World War 2.

She was angry because not only did the Asgardians seem to be able to track her when shrunk, something was interfering with their comms ever since the alert went up. Ava had no idea where Phil and Bill where or even if they were still alive.

Still, since she had the Bag of Holding, the pair had gone off to look for the Cask in the more least likely places they had wargamed out. This would allow her more cover to get to the main target. Unfortunately while Bill had been correct about the main hall being filled with things which screamed 'look how awesome we are!' the Cask had not been there.

Currently she was flying down a side corridor that made her think it was used by servants to transport stuff to the main rooms. It certainly didn't have the polish so much of the palace had. Like just making it was enough.

Ava wasn't complaining. It actually seemed like she'd shaken her pursuers. And there had been a lot of those and all of them very angry to have their feast interrupted. Ava shuddered to think how they might have been if they had waited till they were outside doing their Ostara rituals. While they would have been farther away, Ava was constantly amazed how no matter how big an Asgardian might be, they were fast.

The corridor ended abruptly. She wished their suits had the sort of HUD system that Colonel Rhodes' Iron Man suit had. It would have been nice to have a map being made as they all had moved into the palace. Right now, Ava had no idea where she was relative to where they had been before.

Seeing the door had a space between it and the floor, Ava flew under it only to find herself in what had to be the temporary throne room they had been outside of earlier. While posh, it did have a feeling of a room intended for other purposes.

None of that matter to Ava. All that matter was that above the throne was a shelf which held the Cask of Ancient Winters. The only problem was the room wasn't empty. Worse, the person in the room instantly turned towards her with a huge smile. And huge was pretty much the best description of the man.

Ava's heart sank. She recognized that he was Volstagg the Voluminous. While an obese warrior supposedly past his prime, Volstagg was still one of the Warriors Three and had already cut a terrible swath through Rebel forces. For all his humor, bluster and almost buffoonish behavior, Ava knew he was not someone to underestimate.

Still grinning, Volstagg brandished his axe, "Ho, what have we here? Is it someone who shall slake Brandrheid Undrsigr's thirst? It has been quite a few days before you've been blooded in glorious combat."

Ava grew to full size. As a former, SHIELD trained assassin, she knew that the Wasp suit flattered her figure. Many a dangerous man had fallen to her because they saw her only as a woman or had been distracted by her figure. Given Volstagg's size, Ava thought all of his appetite's might be as large. She'd shamelessly take any advantage she could get.

"Hey there big guy. How about you let me be about my business and you can get back to your feast?" Ava asked in a coquettish tone as she fell into a pose she knew flattered her figure.

"Zounds! Thou art a comely woman! Still I must say nay! Let none say that I, Volstagg the Voluminous, would shirk my duty! I, who with steely courage, intrepid spirit and an axe, gained sweet victories throughout the Nine Realms! My renown is toasted in mead halls across the Realm Eternal!"

"I see your ego is as big as your belly," Ava snarked. She was trying to gauge whether she should just shrink and bum-rush the corpulent warrior. He might be an aging warrior, bragging of old glories but Ava had seen enough footage to know she couldn't just discount him. He might look like a jolly Santa in Viking gear, but appearances were very much deceiving.

Volstagg laughed, "Everything about the mighty Volstagg is big as maidens across the Nine Realms have found to their pleasure!"

He began to advance on her. "Sadly, you will not be one to have the honor of learning aught by the marital skill which makes other warriors hold their manhood cheap. No matter pleasing you are to the eye, my treacherously slain grim companion's spirt is thirsting for his death to be avenge. Your blood, sadly, will help sooth his spirit. Mayhap he might even crack a smile as he partakes of the pleasures of battle and the flesh in Valhalla. Alas you but be a mere slip of a woman. I had hoped for a more worthy foe."

Ava blinked at this. These Asgardians reminded her of so many she'd met in her missions. Self-absorbed and so sure of their righteousness. While she'd take advantage of her gender, it didn't mean it didn't rankle her when she was dismissed mostly for being a woman. Just like how she and other women had to work that much harder back at SHIELD just to prove they had what it took to be there let alone get a modicum respect for their skills.

For some reason, the anger she had had over such came roaring back. So much so that Ava realized she wasn't going to pussy-foot around with the rotund man. No matter how jolly and Santa Claus like he was, he was just another male who dismissed her for simply being a woman.

As Volstagg closed, Ava simply stood still except for a flick of her right wrist causing a small device to fall into her palm.

"Come! Let us meet in glorious battle, my delightful little bee!" Volstagg said with a grin as he closed and drew back his axe to strike.

"I am the Wasp!" Ava snarled and flicked the device in her hand at the Asgardian.

For a brief moment, the man looked surprised before he shrank before Ava's eyes till he was but the size of a bug on the floor, his axe clattering off to the side. Ava realized it probably was magic enough to resist shrinking with the rest of Volstagg's clothes and such.

Ava looked down as the tiny warrior tried to scuttle away. "So ends the saga of Volstagg the Voluminous," she said in a cold voice as she brought her heel down hard on the tiny man.

She didn't look back at the smear on the floor as she moved toward the Cask while pulling out the Bag of Holding.

OoOoO

Phil was getting tired. Growing and shrinking was wearing him out and his suits supply of Pym particles was dangerously low. What wasn't dangerously low was the number of Asgardians he kept running into!

Yet as he flew around a corner, his HUD suddenly pinged with the icon for the Wasp. Whatever had been interfering apparently didn't work as well the closer they got to each other. With an inarticulate cry of relief, he immediately changed course to intercept. It was obvious that the Wasp's suit had detected him as well as she too flew towards him.

"Come here often?" Phil quipped as he linked up with her.

"Cute," Ava said curtly. "I've got the goods. We need to find Ant-Man and get the hell out of here!"

Phil turned as a dozen or so warriors came yelling war cries from whence he'd just came. Likewise, another group had obviously followed the Wasp. "Shit! This has FUBAR written all over it!"

"Tell me something I don't know, secret agent man!" Ava said as she punched him angrily in the arm. She then looked at the smear this left on her fist and gave him the once over, "Phil, what the hell? You look like shit!"

Phil sighed, "That's more true than you could possibly know."

Yet before either of them could even begin to think of what to do next, there came a deep sound, like a primal yell of some sort. This rapidly was accompanied with a rumble which shook the entire palace. So much so that even the Asgardians skidded to a stop to look around in confusion.

Suddenly the walls and the roof around them exploded outwards. Both Phil and Ava shrank to better dodge the debris. Many of the warriors weren't so lucky.

The yell had grown to a deafening pitch. Both Phil and Ava looked up to see Ant-Man had grown to an amazing height. His arms upraised as he screamed to the heavens as his growing body destroying the palace around him.

"Dios mío!" Ava cried out. "Shit! Phil! Bill can't be that large! He won't be able to breathe in a few minutes. We've got to help him!"

"We got to get out of here and he's just gave us our exfiltration route!" Phil said in a flat voice as his mind was boggling at what he was seeing. "What can we do?"

Ava grabbed his arm, "Let's fly!"

As they took off, Ava pointed towards Ant-Man who seemed confused as he stumbled a bit, wrecking more of the palace. "Fly up to his shoulders and hang on. I've got to get to his belt device. My suit can link to his and shrink him down. He's to disorientated to do it himself."

"Copy that!" Phil said as he pushed his suit's speed to the limit. He easily avoided the clumsy movements Ant-Man (Giant Man? Goliath?) was making. He landed on Bill's nape of the neck. Whatever had been interfering with their suit comms wasn't here. "Wasp! I'm in position!"

"Wait one!" came the reply.

Phil hung on as he looked down to see Asgardians scurrying around like ants. Phil smiled grimly. He knew that giants were their traditional enemy but he doubted they'd ever seen someone sixty foot tall before."

A size that began to rapidly shrink. Soon, Phil held a limp Ant-Man by his suit. Wasp flew up and took an arm, "Let's get the flying fuck out of here!"

Phil moved to take the other arm and they took off.

"Shrink in 3!" Ava barked out, "One, two, three!"

With that Phil shrank as did Ava with Bill's suit doing the same as it was slaved to the Wasp suit.

They flew off in a straight line for a bit before turning to where they're transport would fly them to London and thence to the London Sanctum Sanctorum.

OoOoO

Loki was striding forward even before the Bifrost was finished transporting him from Asgard. Likewise he was cursing as he made his way to his palace. Sadly with the wards not yet ready, Heimdall could not transport him directly in without ripping all the protections to shreds.

Curse those Midgardians! Loki was fuming. Bad enough he had had to endure pointed comments all through the feast regarding the goings on in Midgard. Yet to have the call of an attack on his very seat of power coming before he would join with the other Asgardian nobles for the Ostara rituals was beyond embarrassing!

A tremendous roar brought Loki short as the ground trembled under his feet. Before his eyes, a giant of a man smashed through the roof of his palace. The red-suited man continued to grow until he towered over the very turrets of his keep. A keep where much was falling into ruin!

Loki threw up his hands and screamed to the heavens, "Oh come on!" It was as if the Norns themselves had cursed him!

He broke into a run but in short order, the goliath of a man shrank from view. All was confusion and chaos as Loki finally made it into what was left of the Great Hall.

Seeing one of the noble lords, Loki roughly grabbed the man, "What has taken place here? I leave you all for one night and this is what happens in my absence?"

The warrior's eyes were wide with shock, "My lord! We were attacked by those wretched Midgardians who could shrink to annoying insect size. We were containing them before that…that Jotun of a man appeared."

Loki cursed under his breath. Those damnable Midgardian heroes! He had thought the deranged Pym who had killed his wretched step-brother had also killed all those with powers. Yet now they seemed to appear across the globe, checking his ambitions at every turn.

Loki scowled as the noble continued to babble. Then his scowl turned to an evil grin. Loki would not heed Queen Frigga's soothing call for peace this time. He would bury major cities under the ice. He would spare the metropolises with Sanctums, but there were plenty of cities with far too many mortals. They would learn the price of their hubris!

"My lord! Ill news!" came a woman's cry from across the hall.

"What? What now?' Loki snarled.

"Slain! Treacherously slain!' a shieldmaiden cried out with a mournful look on her face as she stumbled towards him.

"Who? Tell me! Your lord commands it!" Loki angrily said through clenched teeth.

"Fandral the Dashing! He was brought low and called to his ancestor in a vile and despicable manner!" the woman wailed.

Loki's heart sank. The death of Hogun the Grim had not been received well in Asgard. He heard too many mutterings during the feast in Asgard. Losing another of the Warriors Three was an ill omen indeed. It would also crush the heart of his most worthy general, the Lady Sif.

Loki looked up at the ceiling. What more could the Norns due to bring him low?

"My lord," a soft voice urgently said.

Loki turned to see his aide, Guðmundr [Good-munder] looking grave.

"My lord," he repeated. "The Cask is missing from your throne room."

Loki turned to him and grasped his shoulders, "What? How is this possible?"

Guðmundr looked lost, "I know not my lord. Beyond the All-Father or your Íssjotun kin, there should be no one on this wretched planet who could survive the Cask's power. All I know is it is not there...and merry Volstagg, who went to protect it, is missing. We know he was there as his axe was found in the room. I know he enjoys playing the fool, but none may say that Volstagg was a coward. I fear the worst."

It took all Loki's resolve not to groan aloud. Was he cursed never to become the hero? To win what was due him? To finally step out from his step-brother's shadow and prove to all that Loki Fárbautison was destined with glorious purpose to rule?

XxXxX

LINCOLN MEMORIAL, WASHINGTON D.C, UNITED STATES, MARCH 20th, 2011 –MORNING (GM-5)

"You can thank Queen Frigga that this monument still stands."

Steve Rodgers turned away from looking up at the Lincoln Memorial. He had always visited when in D.C. back in the War. He saw Princess Þrúðr wave away the herald who had been the one to tell her of Steve's choice of venue. Likewise, Steve motioned for Mockingbird to similarly move back.

The one-time SHIELD agent looked concerned, "Are you sure about this Steve?"

Steve smiled, "Bobbi, I'll be fine. With the time difference between here and Norway, it's doubtful they would hear of our op in Tonsberg. Phil and the rest may not have even started yet. Plus, any time an enemy wants to talk, take it. I wouldn't' have accepted coming here if I didn't think it was worth it."

Bobbi frowned but did as he asked. She might not be as enhanced as him, but she certainly felt confident of being able to wade in and cover Steve enough for them to escape if this was a trap.

Steve turned back to see Þrúðr watching him with a dispassionate air. Steve had to admit he'd been shocked to be hailed during a raid and told the Asgardian Princess wanted to set up a private meeting.

They both walked to where they were facing each other at the foot of the monument.

Steve gave a slight bow, "Princess. I am here. What did you mean about Queen Frigga? While I know the Sorcerer Supreme was once an apprentice to her, I didn't think your queen was that involved with the war here."

It was odd facing her. Steve was used to being the one who was taller ever since he'd become Captain America. Having someone talking down to him reminded him of most of his youth as the smallest boy in all of his classes. After the last two years (to his frame of reference) Steve had repressed those old memories. Still, with her helmet off, Steve found Þrúðr was rather beautiful in a very no-nonsense sort of way. Certainly nothing like the bullies of his youth.

Þrúðr gave a slight bow of her own, "Her Majesty has always been a believer in Prince Loki…and in me for that matter. She has long been the voice of reason and compassion. She believed that while Prince Loki was in his right to strike back after the Battle of New York, there was no need to repeat the…severity of his first use of the Cask of Ancient Winters. She pointed out that the city was filled with treasures of antiquity, irreplaceable art and monuments such as this. Destroying such would further fan the flames against his rule. Therefore, except for the direct strikes against government buildings and the like, the rest should be spared."

Steve nodded, "Queen Frigga is wise indeed…and absolutely correct."

They stared at each other in silence. Þrúðr realized the Captain's eyes were almost the same brilliant blue as her father's had been. Steve, on the other hand, noted that Þrúðr's icy blue eyes were speckled with what seemed to be gold flakes.

This went on for a bit before a small cough from Agent Morse broke the pair of them out of their contemplation. Þrúðr seemed to be embarrassed so Steve decided to break the tension between them, "I'm surprised you agreed to meet me on this day. It's one of your holy days, right?"

Þrúðr shrugged, "Easier for me to get away unnoticed. Besides, I will have plenty of time to join in the rituals later this evening. I won't even miss the feasting."

Steve looked relieved, "Well that's good. Well, to business then. I was surprised that you wanted to meet at all. I doubt I'm high on your list of people you wish to associate with." He couldn't help but pat Mjölnir which was tucked into his belt.

"On the contrary, Captain. Warriors like yourself are to be cherished even if we are on opposite sides." Þrúðr said with a slight smile. "However, sadly, our host has recently lost one of its most famous warriors. The deaths of the Hogun the Grim has many tongues wagging. There is much speculation throughout our forces of what is to come. Most had thought that this campaign would be naught but boring guard duty. That has not come to pass."

Steve was silent, "I'm guessing from our point of view, things could potentially get better or a whole lot worse with such speculation."

Þrúðr smirked, "It seems that Queen Frigga is not the only one who is wise. You see clearly. I am sure your spies have divined that the conquest of Midgard, something taken up as revenge for my father's death, has become a test by the All-Father to see how Prince Loki might rule if he ascends to the throne of Asgard."

"Ah…with things not going as well as Loki wishes and certainly not how most of you Asgardian's expected, I would think maybe Odin might pull the plug on all this," Steve said thoughtfully.

Þrúðr shook her head, "No. We are a passionate people. Honor and blood are important to us. What first was to have wergild paid for my father's death has become much more personal to the warriors of the host. While Queen Frigga strives to be a mediating voice, the more blood we shed between us on Midgard, the more pressure there is to make Midgard pay for our lost warriors. Worse, these same voices crying for revenge may be doing so for they know many in our host believe that Prince Loki took advantage of the All-Father's absence to steal himself a kingdom under the pretense of avenging my father's death. Thus the old elite families wish to push for harsher campaigns before those who agree with Queen Frigga agitate for a withdrawal and potentially rob them of their chance for revenge."

"So are you here to warn us? To get us to slow down our attacks? Because if so, I don't think I have that pull. Your Prince wiped out almost a sixth of our entire world's population. People and cultures lost forever under that ice," Steve said evenly. He wasn't going to turn away from a possible olive branch but he was an Avenger and there was so very much left to avenge.

Þrúðr shook her head again, "No. I am here to repay a debt against my honor. I wish to do so now for if things get worse, then I may lose the opportunity. Or Lord Odin might recall our host tomorrow, forbidding any to return to enact a more personal revenge. Either way, my honor demands I not delay in paying that debt."

Steve wasn't sure what she was talking about so he stayed silent. He was, however, gratified to learn that if the Asgardians were recalled, their own king would prevent any further reprisals.

Þrúðr held up her hand as if to say 'peace' before she slowly pulled what looked to Steve like a golden apple incased in some clear crystal out of a belt pouch. The apple had a slice taken out of it. "Do you know what this is?"

Steve rubbed his chin, "I think so. I seem to recall a legend about golden apples that did…something. I can't remember. Not the sort of thing poor kids in Brooklyn got to learn about during the Great Depression, I'm afraid."

"Just so," Þrúðr said. "This is one of the golden apples of Iðunn [Idunn] for she is the one that tends the Tree of Immortality, said to be grown from a graft of Yggdrasil itself. Unlike you Midgardian, most of the people of the Nine Realms live long lives. My father was a little over 1,500 years old when he was murdered and he was considered to be as you are in age."

Steve blinked at that. It sounded like the late Thor could have expected to live around eight to nine thousand years!

"For all that, our lives are filled with combat and strife," Þrúðr explained. "Many might live to die in bed but also spend far too long infirm from a life on the battlefield. So while Iðunn's apples can prolong our long lives even further, most use slices of the apple to rejuvenate ourselves early. Doing so dilutes the apple's effect on our age. Yet we are a martial people. Most believe a shorter life in the full bloom of health is best. Much better than a longer life but one with infirmity keeping one away from the battlefield."

"Live fast, die young then," Steve quipped.

Þrúðr laughed, "Verily so! Know that these apples are rare. The Tree of Immortality does not produce fruit as the seasons change as normal trees do. Thus to be gifted with one is a great honor. An honor not given lightly more than once. For my part, due to my heritage, I was shocked when I was given this one. Even after my feats in the field and being my father's firstborn, I had not thought a Jotun-born such as myself would be allowed to have one."

Steve gestured to the apple, "I shudder to think what must have happened to you for you to have already taken a slice out of it. You might think I beat you handily but I was very aware of your skill and power. Anything which could cause you to have to take such a bite early must have been pretty nasty."

Þrúðr smiled at his praise and she felt a heat rise to her cheeks, "I have not partaken of it, Captain." She put the apple back into her pouch and brought out a smaller crystal with the missing slice in it. "No. This slice is my gift to you. For not giving into the heat of battle and killing me out of hand. I am high in our host's ranks. Killing me would have been a serious blow to our morale. Yet you showed mercy even though at the time I didn't feel it to be so."

Þrúðr turned and began to pace, "My father killed my mother in a drunken rage because he thought she had been plotting against him. Perhaps she had been. My uncle continued to plot against Asgard even after his sister had been given to Thor as a peace-weaving. I don't know the truth of any of it but what I do know is that I'm all that is left of the royal line of the Utgards. All my Jotun kin have fallen in war, much due to their own machinations. Thus while my late father still has his Beltane Born sons by Lady Sif, only I remain of my royal Jotun family. A line I stupidly begged you to end that day in New York. In thinking only of my own honor I was disrespecting my mother's family. Thus making me less likely to earn a place among the honored dead. You were more merciful than you know."

Steve was silent as he watched her pace. He wondered if Loki's ending so many family lines and entire peoples had made her realize what she had almost thrown away.

Þrúðr paced for a bit more before turning back to Steve and offered the crystal to him, "This is how I repay that debt to my family's honor. I had forgotten something Queen Frigga once told me as a girl. That while I should aspire to win a spot in Valhalla, that there was no shame in living a long life, filled with family and honest works. Worse, in my rage, I had discounted the words of wise Queen Freya of the Vanir. She, whose Valkyries cull those worthy of it to the halls of Valhalla. She once told me when I was hunting outlaws who had hope to hide from Asgard's justice in her lands not to fall into the trap so many did in their ignorance of youth. Dying in bed after a long life was not the straw death so many feared. Honor won can only be lost by dishonorable deeds."

Steve nodded at this, "And so living fast and dying young is a sucker's game."

Þrúðr nodded, a grim look on her face, "Aye. No, the straw death comes to those who ghost through life, to those which never dare to try or are afraid to stand up for what is right. To flow like water downhill, doing nothing to make their mark. I am not being a braggart by saying I am in no danger of that. Yet, in my anger, I had forgotten this and almost cast aside my line because I was so fixed on winning a place among the honored dead." She looked away, "To see my father once again."

Steve took the crystal and was silent for a moment as he looked at it. Then he shook his head, "I'm sorry, Princess. I can't accept this. The process which made me into Captain America will ensure I will live much longer than everyone else. So I am already cursed to outlive my friends and potentially my own children and maybe even grand-children. People think of living longer would be a great thing but I just see it as being a series of heart-wrenching good-byes. While being lost to the ice meant I missed enough good-byes as it is, I still do not look forward to those yet to come. As much as I am honored by this, I cannot trap myself into living even longer."

Þrúðr surprised him by smiling, "Once again you prove your wisdom. Most would leap at the chance to cheat Death even if for mere days. However, this gift is not for you exactly. As I said, you kept me from throwing away my Jotun families royal lineage as well as one of the last pieces of my father. In learning about you I realized that, for all your heroism, you will never get the true reward you must so desperately crave. The life that you sacrificed so others might live."

Steve's heart was suddenly in his throat. Did she mean what he thought she might?

Þrúðr gestured to the crystal in his hands, "As I said, the golden apples can bring one back into health. Give this to your lost love and even if she was being gathered up in Death's embrace, she will be as a new maiden again, lusty and filled with life. I believe she will also live much longer than a typical Midgardian. That is my gift to you, Captain Steve Rodgers. Please, accept this gift and let me fulfill my debt of honor to you."

Steve found his hands were shaking, "I…I don't know what to say. There are no words I could say which could possibly tell you how much this means to me…to Peggy."

Þrúðr laughed, "Words are not needed among warriors such as us. Go. Make haste to your love. Take what comfort you can with her for we know not if there are darker days ahead. We may yet find ourselves in battle and all my respect for you does not mean I will not keep to my oaths and strive to take your life and with it, take back the weapon of my father."

Steve carefully put the crystal in one of his own pouches, before looking Þrúðr in the eyes. He straightened and snapped off a crisp salute. "If that day comes, I would not dishonor you by not doing the same. However, I hope that your Queen's voice for peace wins out over the dark desire for revenge. We have a saying, 'An eye for an eye makes the world blind.' Too many have already died over the sorrows of one family, no matter how royal."

Þrúðr brought up Járnbjörn and slapped the flat of her blade against her chest in a returned salute. "This is also my wish. I go even now to console Lady Sif in her grief so she will have the strength to lead tonight's rituals. First she lost the father of her children and now one of her boon companions in the Warriors Three. Worse, there are so many back home in Asgard who grieve for their loved one who have stained Midgardian soil with their dying blood. I took an oath to protect Asgard and follow my king. Yet I cannot help but question how this campaign does anything but weaken Asgard. There are many of our ancient foes who hungrily wait for any hint of weakness. What folly it would be to gain Midgard only to have the Realm Eternal brought low?"

Þrúðr flourished Járnbjörn, "Be well, Captain America. Till we meet again, in battle or in diplomatic accord."

Steve raised his shield as well, "Safe journeys, Princess Þrúðr. Till we meet again. I pray it will be in peace."

Both turned and walked back to their seconds, the stone eyes of Abraham Lincoln seemingly following them as they returned to the war.

XxXxX

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I had originally planned to make this one big one-shot. Not only did it grow too big, but I also realized breaking it up would allow reviewers to comment on more things. I'm betting my version of the "Ant-Man vs. Thanos" memes are certainly going to generate a few. Sadly this chapter got away from me since thematically I couldn't break it into two smaller chapters. In fact, this entire fic is conspiring to be one big NaNoWriPro entry!

Boss Fight: To the guest reviewer and others, I did not bump Loki's power levels up while nerfing Captain Marvel. In trying to stop Loki, Danvers took on many of the same caliber of warriors we've seen thrash through Earth's elite forces and threaten the heroes. That and while doing so, she destroyed The Destroyer. If anything was nerfed, the MCU nerfed the Destroyer. Something, which I might add, that Odin and other heads of Earth's various pantheons like Zeus and Shiva powered to defend Earth from the Celestial's Fourth Host in cast their judgement against humanity.

So you know that Celestial head seen in the Guardians of Galaxy & Infinity War? Yeah, the Destroyer was something which comics canon had as being capable of doing the beheading. In this story, Captain Marvel defeats that AND hordes of Asgardian warriors AND some of Loki's elite guards AND dealing with Loki himself who was wielding the Cast of Ancient Winters. So no, I didn't nerf her at all. Plus, one could say that like Superman, Captain Marvel might not be as resistant versus magic and so the Asgardians would be a bigger threat than Thanos' forces.

MCU Netflix Timeline Change: Not that it's a huge deal but given I'm going with the age of the actor as the basis for the character, which puts Jessica Jones as turning 29 seven days prior to the Battle of New York shown in last chapter. So given her fictional history starts in college, one would expect she finished college anywhere between 2003 through 2005 assuming she got a 4-year degree. This still gives ample time for her to be ensnared by Killgrave and form Alias Investigations. So other than the one season one episode that I remember the reference the Sacred Timeline Battle of New York, there really isn't a lot that I can think of that ties the Netflix shows to the later 2015+ official timeline. Likewise, Luke Cage would be 34 so again, I don't feel too bad moving their timelines up.

My Marvel Canon: For the purposes of all my MCU based fics (Ironheart & Spider-Mage) there are seven sanctums. Why? Well first off, seven is a much more powerful number magically than three. Secondly it doesn't stand to reason that all three cities are in the northern hemisphere. No, it would more probably be this going by age and longest continuous occupation.

North America: Tenochtitlan, Mexico (Now Mexico City)

South America: Quinto, Ecuador

Africa: Luxor, Egypt although Birnan Zana in Wakanda might also be in play given Luxor is close to Athens AND Damascus.

SE Asia: Delhi, India

Asia: Beijing, China

Middle East: Damascus, Syria

Europe: Athens, Greece

However, for MCU reasons, I will keep the NYC and London Sanctums as they are. Plus, given Damascus was destroyed, this Sanctum is in Athens instead.

No Bashing: Don't get me wrong, the Warriors Three are nominally heroes. Yet such accolades tend to be because they are the ones left to tell the tale. That and if you read the comics, the Warriors Three waltz through combat like it's one big game.

Norse Theology vs. Marvel Canon: Just a reminder. Marvel dorked it up. Fárbauti is Loki's father. Laufey is his mother. Oh, another thing. I sort of see Asgardians kind of like Saiyans in that their great strength and the like means they eat a lot.

Brandrheid Undrsigr: I can't find a translation for. All I can say is that it is the name of Volstagg's axe. An axe which is a MCU thing. Volstagg in the comics usually wields a sword. BTW, if you do an online search for Volstagg, a picture of his comic likeness will show you what I mean by his "silly hat" as the MCU Volstagg doesn't have it. That and the MCU Volstagg is not nearly as obese as his comic counterpart which I'm drawing more off of.

[*] Frost Giant? Given the events of Thor played out differently, the reason it got out that Loki is a Frost Giant is simply due to many Asgardian nobles being with Loki when he took up the Cask of Ancient Winters (over the advice of those who thought it would freeze him) and found out his true parentage.