There were many things she didn't quite understand. One being how she had ended up in the hands of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Her memories dated back to 2006, just a few years ago. Anything before that, there was black. A void full of absolute emptiness.
They found her in a corn field in Kansas, clothing shredded and burned, laying in the middle of a gaping hole. The townspeople called her an alien, a visitor from another planet, because of the strange markings burnt into the ground.
She woke up in a strange white room, hooked to monitors, an elderly man checking her chart. He had been kind to her when she first woke, explaining that his place of employment had picked her up from the corn field and had been monitoring her for three days.
Dr. Wheaton, he said was his name. Dr. Liam Wheaton. He made sure she ate all the food she was given and told her that her vitals had been off the charts fantastic.
She didn't have a name. If she did, she didn't know it. Dr. Wheaton gave her one. He christened her 'Rosalie', after his deceased and well-loved mother.
That was when Nick Fury came to her. He wanted to know who she was, what she was. After all, no normal human being left a hole in the ground that size or even fell from the sky at all.
Tests were run. It was determined she was not human, but what exactly, they didn't know. She possessed an amount of strength no human had, her reflexes were quicker than anything anyone had ever seen, she could take a hit from a moving car and remain unfazed, she moved faster than a cheetah and her senses were uncanny. The one ability she possessed that raised concern from everyone was the fact that with a conscious touch of her fingers, things were disintegrated. Not only that, but she could create things. Recreate something from its ashes or make something new entirely.
Within a week of determining her an asset and not a threat, she was suited. Agent Clint Barton gave her a swift rundown of how things worked at Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. She worked in the field under the tutelage of Barton and his close friend, Agent Natasha Romanoff.
The curiosity of her origin faded quickly as she adjusted to her new place in the world. She forgot that she had fallen from the sky. Her void of memory was filled with color as time went on.
And then the unimaginable happened.
Someone fell from the sky.
The hit landed, her fist slamming against Nat's face. Nat stumbled back and Rosalie landed a kick to her stomach.
"Now that's what I like to see!" She heard Clint shout from outside the sparring ring.
Rosalie glanced back at him, half a smile on her lips. The air around her changed and her hand went up just in time to grab Nat's wrist, flipping her on her back.
"You know I have enhanced senses and reflexes, or did you forget?" Rosalie turned, smiling down at Nat.
Clint's laughter filled the room. "I'm sure you didn't forget that our super-agent is some all-powerful alien from another planet." He said as Rosalie helped Nat to her feet.
Nat scowled at him and brushed off her training clothes. "Forget? No, I didn't forget. It just…slipped my mind."
Rosalie smiled. "Sure. Now that I've successfully kicked your ass four times today, can we get lunch? I'm starved."
Clint laughed again. "I have never met anyone with an appetite like yours, Wheaton. Burgers?"
Her stomach rumbled at the thought of a half-assed made, grease-filled cheeseburger. She glanced over at the large digital clock on the wall. It was just after 3:30 and she hadn't eaten since 7:30 that morning. "Burgers sound so good but so bad for my health. I'm in."
An hour later, the trio was sitting in Rosalie's favorite diner in D.C., ordering the greasiest cheeseburgers in the city.
"You're definitely Fury's favorite." Nat told Clint. Clint snorted in response, clearly disagreeing. "He treats you like a delicate flower. He can't have his pet bird getting hurt." There was no resentment or hurt in her voice. She was all play.
Clint shook his head, taking a drink of his water. "C'mon, Nat. We all know the man would actually die for Rosalie." Both of the women gave him a confused look. "Think about it, guys. Fury and Dr. Wheaton met at the Academy and Dr. Wheaton practically adopted Rose when she came to. Fury hardly lets her out of the city." He turned his attention to Rosalie. "Face the facts, my friend. You're like his kid or his pet project or something."
She rolled her eyes. "Did you ever think that maybe the reason he doesn't want me too far from reach is because I'm some sort of unknown species with an unknown amount of power that I'm not quite sure how to control?" She asked as they were served their food.
Clint's proud face fell and he turned his attention to his plate of food. Nat's laugh echoed softly as they began to eat.
Her mind wandered. There were several possibilities for her quarantine to the limits of Washington D.C. The most plausible one was that which she insisted upon Clint. But she wasn't ignorant of Fury's blatant favoritism. No one was.
She was a cherished addition in his collection of special and novelty items. She was sure that when someone better and more interesting came along, they would be favored over her. That was the cycle of life.
That wasn't to say that Director Fury didn't care for her. She knew he did. His close friendship with her surrogate father ensured that he looked at her as family, not just a friend from work. He was never less than professional with her, but there was an always present glimmer of kindness in his eyes.
"Earth to alien." Clint snapped in her face. She blinked several times, her focus adjusting on him. He was holding his S.H.I.E.L.D. pager, the screen blinking as it beeped incessantly. She realized that her own was going off and she took it from her pocket.
It was a summons from Director Fury. For her and Clint, but not Nat? "I'll drop you off on my way home." Nat told them.
They each left money for their meals and enough for a tip on the counter. "Barton?" Rosalie called his attention. "Call me 'alien' one more time and I'll burn your bows."
Fury was in his office waiting for them when they arrived. His desk was bare, except for a thin file folder.
"You're going to Puente Antiguo, New Mexico. We got word of an 0-8-4." Fury reported. He was looking directly at her and she could feel Clint looking anywhere else in the room.
0-8-4, an object of unknown origin. The last one they had gotten was in 2006.
They found her in a corn field in Kansas, strange markings burned into ground around her. Next to her body, a sword. A sword only she could pick up. The sword stayed contained in a secret vault in the locked basement of the Triskelion, safe and hidden.
She held out her hand and Fury handed her the file. She opened it up, letting Clint peer over.
She sucked in a breath.
The same strange markings. She picked up the photo, bringing it closer to her face. She switched to another photo, this one zoomed in. There was an object in the middle of the circle of markings. She couldn't quite make out what it was. And then the last photo.
It was a hammer. Not a regular hammer either. This one was a large and foreign looking war-hammer. Something inside of her bubbled, her brain buzzing.
"When do we leave?" She asked Fury, placing the photos back in the file. There was something special about the hammer, she knew it. She could feel it.
"Two hours. Contain and confiscate from the local authorities. Dr. Wheaton will be joining you to run tests on the 0-8-4, determine its origins, figure out if it's a potential threat. Any questions?" Fury reported. No one said anything. "Good. Wheaton, you're dismissed. Have a safe flight."
She said nothing as she left his office and the door closed behind her. Her ears prickled at the start of a secret conversation she wasn't supposed to hear.
"Sir, do you think this has anything to do with Wheaton? Who she is, what she is and where she's from?" She heard Clint asked.
Her heart hammered in her chest. It couldn't be a coincidence. She knew better than to think that. Markings like that didn't just appear. And the hammer…it sparked a sort of familiarity inside of her.
"The question isn't whether I think that it has anything to do with her, because it has everything to do with her. The question is whether Rosalie Wheaton is ready to be faced with who she really is and whether we're ready for that too."
Her entire body prickled with curiosity. She wasn't sure she could wait to find everything out. Two hours plus flight time plus setting up and running tests and then waiting for results. Rosalie Wheaton couldn't contain herself.
"Thor! Loki! Wait for me!" The little princess shouted.
The two princes were running ahead of her through the field. The blond boy was clearly the eldest, his hair thrown back by the breeze of the wind. He slowed to a stop and turned, his younger brother following his suit.
"Mother said that you had to let me play with you!" The girl told them, stopping from exasperation.
The black-haired boy looked at their elder brother curiously. "Thor, what do we do? She'll tell Mother if we run from her again."
Thor clasped his brother on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Loki." He smiled. He turned his attention to their younger sister. "Nola, Father said that you're to train and play separately from us now on! You're to train with Sif instead."
Her bright blue eyes glinted gold. "That's not true." She put her hands on her hips, her simple blue dress swaying in the breeze. "Father told me that I can train with the two of you. I'm just as good and almost as strong as you, Thor. I can't be Queen of Asgard and Protector of the Nine Realms if I'm not strong enough." Her voice was resilient and almost taunting.
Thor scoffed. "You're the youngest of us! You'll never be Queen and Protector, little sister." Loki laughed with him, the two boys making fun of her silly delusions. "Now go run back home and play with your dolls, Nola."
Anger bubbled inside of her, her small hands shaking. She thrusted her hands forward and flames shot across the grass towards the princes. It flew up in a wall in front of them and they scrambled back. As she calmed her breathing, the flames died down.
Her brother stared back at her, scared and confused. She was still young, a small child. Loki had only barely begun mastering his own magic and Thor's strength was beginning to go unmatched. Neither of them had come into their respective strengths at her age or had even begun to.
The Asgardian princess swallowed, staring down her brothers. The golden glint in her eyes faded. "Don't tell Mother and Father." She warned them. Both princes nodded and she smiled brightly. "I will see you later for our first training!" She waved at them, turning and running back to the palace.
Rosalie awoke from the mysterious dream in a cold sweat. They were still a little bit away from New Mexico, flying over the country on a quinjet.
She wiped her forehead and grabbed a bottle of water, downing half of it quickly.
There had been something familiar, yet strange, about the dream. She felt connected to the two boys and the young girl but had no idea how. She could tell that it wasn't real just by the surroundings in the dream. The children were dressed casual but in strange clothing. The cosmic sky hovered over them, even though it was daytime. A beautiful golden palace lingered in the background.
She dismissed the feeling and the dream, shaking it off as a product of nerves and watching The Princess Bride and Star Wars a few too many times.
When they arrived at the makeshift facility, Coulson was ready to greet them at the door. "Good to see you two."
She liked Coulson. He was easy to talk to and was always ready to get straight to business. His weird obsession with Captain America was something she chose to look over, because it kind of freaked her out. But she guessed that her whole 'alien from another planet' thing freaked him out too.
"I need to see the hammer. Immediately." Rosalie told him. Coulson's eyebrows quirked, but he said nothing to her. He and Clint gave each other a look and she saw Clint shrug.
"This way." Coulson said. They followed him into the facility and through the halls until they reached the domed center.
Her entire body was buzzing just being in the same room as the hammer. Slowly, she made her way down the stairs and to the hammer.
It had made a nice sized crater in the ground. She gravitated towards it, the energy pulling her. Her hand shook as she reached for the hammer.
"Wheaton, don't touch it." Barton's voice came from behind her. "We don't know what it can do."
She shook her head. She was fine, the hammer was fine. It was powerful and so was she. Power understood other power. She understood the hammer. She knew the hammer.
Her fingers grazed the leather around the thick handle. Immediately, her hand wrapped around the handle. Her skin electrified, every part of her buzzed.
"My children, my legacies. It is time you came into your rightful inheritance. Nola, my daughter, come forth."
She felt her body move forward towards him.
He had pulled them from their training, she felt disrespectful in her plain clothes, standing in front of the Allfather in training gear.
"Kaos, formed on Nidavellir in the heart of a dying star. A sword fit for a princess and a weapon fit for the Goddess of Chaos and Creation. With this, you will do wonderful things." He put the longsword into her hands. "My son, Thor."
Her eldest brother stood beside her, taller and much larger. The same thick blond hair and striking blue eyes.
"Mjolnir, also formed on Nidavellir in the same dying star." Odin the Allfather put the war hammer in his son's hands. "A hammer of war that I myself once wielded and I now pass down to you, my son. A weapon for the God of Thunder."
Thor grinned at their father. "Thank you, Father. I will make you proud by defeating many armies!"
She eyed the sword in her hands. She could feel the power surging through it. "These are your weapons in which you will defend Asgard and our people. Your power will flow through these weapons, but it does not come from these weapons. It comes from you. Remember that."
Her father put his hand on the top of her head. "It's beautiful, Father. I shall treasure it forever." She told him. She looked around the Allfather's secret vault. Her other brother was absent from their weapon reception. "Where is Loki, Father? Does he not get a weapon?"
Odin's hand patted her head gently and then rested on her shoulder. "Worry not about your brother. His gift is coming from your mother as we speak. They share the gift of magic. We share the gift of war."
Thor raised his hammer in the air, waving it. "I will win every battle in your name, Allfather! You will not be disappointed!"
She rolled her eyes, balancing the sword in her dominant hand. "Everything is not about war, my brother."
He scoffed at her. He thought she was an insolent girl, one who knew nothing of ruling or fighting. "Ruling is all about war, little sister! How do you think kings come to and keep their power?" He laughed.
She looked to their father. "Tell him, Father."
Odin grabbed both of them by the shoulder. "You both have much to learn about ruling. And I will teach you."
She jerked away from the hammer, her hand burning.
"Wheaton!" Barton shouted at her. "Everything okay down there?" He asked.
She shook out her hand, eyes clenched shut. The daydream was so vivid, so real. Almost as if it had really and truly happened to her. "I'm fine." She replied, her voice even. "Hungry, but I'm fine. Are there any good places to eat around here, Coulson?"
Coulson's idea of a good place to eat was a tiny diner that didn't even have a proper sign, just a little neon piece on the side window. "So, did the locals have a time with the hammer?" Clint asked Coulson.
Rosalie bit a huge chunk from her burger. "Oh yeah. By the time I got here, they'd set up camp. They were lined up practically out the city to try and pull it out of the crater." Coulson laughed.
She swallowed, looking at him. "No one could get it out?" She asked. He shook his head, saying no. He told them that some poor guy broke the back end of his truck off trying to get it out.
"It's in the ground pretty good." Coulson chuckled.
She didn't think that was it at all.
The woman behind the counter was trying to piece together a broken coffee cup.
"We confiscated material from the lab of Jane Foster. We're hoping some of it may bring a light to whatever we're dealing with."
Rosalie arched an eyebrow. "Did you at least compensate her for her troubles? We don't need another Banner situation. Everyone already thinks we killed him off."
Coulson assured her that Ms. Foster was financially compensated for more than enough of her materials. She finished her burger and chugged the water down.
"Right. Back to the facility. I need sleep." She rubbed her hands together.
Clint rolled his eyes. "You have three moods: eat, sleep, and fight. Can't you ever relax for once?"
"Is that one of my moods?" She asked dully. He said no. "Then, no."
The scientists were working around the clock to test the hammer. S.H.I.E.L.D. had built a formidable facility around the hammer site, ensuring no one's prying eyes could see what they were doing.
"Well, what do you think?" She chewed on her thumbnail.
Dr. Wheaton looked up from his clipboard. He pulled her a few feet away from the rest of the scientists. "Just from mere observation and comparing full photographs of this site, your own, and that of your sword, I can see that the markings are the same. Having tested what I could, I've determined that the hammer is made of a substance uncannily similar to that of your sword."
She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "You're saying…?"
He nodded. "Yes. Wherever the origin is, it is the same as yours."
Something like hope fluttered in her chest. It was the first time in four years that she had even an inkling of a lead on where she came from.
"Did you tell Fury?"
"Not yet. I will in the morning."
Her ear com crackled. "Movement outside the west border fence." One of the guards reported.
She and Dr. Wheaton looked at each other for a long moment. "Call it a night?" She suggested. Most of her knew it was probably kids from the town trying to get a good look at what they thought was a satellite. But there was a small part in the back of her mind that thought it could be something a little more dangerous.
"Sounds like a lovely idea. Shall we get breakfast in the morning? Agent Coulson had great things to say about that diner you went to earlier." There was a slight suggestiveness in his tone that she recognized immediately.
"Breakfast sounds great." She said. "And Clint went with us." She added before he could get any more ideas. "See you in the morning."
He waved back at her with his clipboard. Along with him, the other scientists and agents dispersed, leaving her alone with the hammer. She watched him walk up the small set of stairs and disappear down one of the white tunneled halls.
"Agent down! Agent down!" Another voice shouted through. "We've got an intruder!" Sirens blared throughout the facility. Up above, thunder cracked. Before she knew it, a hard and steady rain was falling down.
She cracked her knuckles and rolled her neck. She took out both her guns and made sure they were fully loaded and ready to use.
"I need eyes up top." Coulson's voice rang through. "With a weapon, preferably." He added.
"On it." She heard Clint say.
"Agent Wheaton has the hammer in sight. Take the intruder down." Agent Sitwell's voice came through the com.
She could hear Sitwell and Coulson talking about some kind of electromagnetic surge and she had half a mind to turn her com off. The whirring of a machine distracted her. She looked up, drops of rain falling in her eyes.
Clint was in the bucket of the crane machine, hanging over the squared off hammer site. She watched him ready his bow and notch an arrow. She gave him a thumbs up before setting her sights back on the hammer.
"Barton, Wheaton, give me an update." Coulson demanded. Barton said he had eyes on the intruder and on command would slow him down. He asked if Coulson was going to send more agents for the intruder to spar with. She reported that, naturally, she wasn't seeing any action, but the hammer was still in sight and protected. "Keep me updated." Coulson told them.
She heard him before she saw him. Thundering footsteps, heavy breathing. "Wait." She said softly. She ducked into the shadows, peering out. He stepped into her line of vision. He was tall, bulky and muscular with blonde hair down to his shoulders. Familiarity prickled in the back of her mind. "I have eyes on him."
She took out one of her guns. An agent popped out in front of him, bigger than the intruder. He knocked the intruder down and the two wrestled, tearing through the tunnel out into the rain.
She heaved a sigh. "I never get to have any fun." She muttered, putting her gun back away.
"Patience, young grasshopper." Clint chuckled. His amusement ended with a sharp intake of breath. "Coulson, if you don't call it soon, I might have to switch to rooting for him."
The tarp of the enclosure ripped away just near the hammer and she fell back into the shadow. Maybe her time to shine had come after all. He made his way to the hammer, grinning down at it. Surely this guy didn't think he'd be the one to free the weapon. Dozens had tried before him and failed. Even she had tried and her superhuman strength hadn't been able to free the hammer. What made him any different?
"Coulson." Barton said impatiently. "Running out of time."
Coulson told him to wait. "I want to see what happens. Wheaton, you still there?"
"Mhm." She murmured. "Biding my time."
The man curled his hand around the grip of the hammer, a satisfied expression on his face. She inhaled as he pulled up. The hammer didn't move. She exhaled, almost disappointed. He put his other hand around the hilt and pulled again. Still, the hammer didn't budge. He groaned out, still trying to move the hammer. When he finally let go, there was a look of defeat on his face. She almost felt bad for him. Almost, though.
He stepped back, staring down at his hands. He looked up at the sky, shouting wordlessly. He sank to his knees, his eyes locked on the hammer.
"Bring him in, Wheaton." Coulson ordered her.
She stepped out of the shadows, her gun out and ready to use. Her foot squished into the mushy wetness of the ground and the man's head jerked up. "Don't move." She commanded. "Move and I shoot."
He squinted back at her. "It cannot be…" He said quietly. She picked up on his accent, noting that it sounded oddly like her own.
"We're going to detain you now. Don't resist or you'll make it a lot worse for yourself." She told him. She held up a hand, summoning agents to come get the intruder.
An agent appeared and got behind the intruder, handcuffing him. He pulled him to his feet, but the man's gaze never left her. "You're meant to be dead." He told her.
Her mouth felt dry. She wanted to look away, but she didn't. "Wheaton, do not engage." Coulson's voice rang out.
But she couldn't stop thinking about how Dr. Wheaton had proven that the origin of her sword and the hammer were the same. He had said that wherever she was from, the hammer came from there as well. And this man seemed to know her, but she had never seen him before in her life.
"You know me?" She asked, lowering her gun. That was one of the very first things she was taught: never lower your gun.
His eyes widened. "How could I not? I have known you your whole life."
He did know her! But from where? And how? She didn't get to ask. Coulson ordered the agent to detain the intruder. She huffed a breath as the agent began walking the intruder away. He turned back, looking at her curiously.
"Get Fury on the phone." She demanded. Before Coulson could object, she repeated herself. "And get Dr. Wheaton on the line as well. We all need to have a little chat."
She paced back and forth, chewing down on her thumbnail. Coulson had given her a little space away from other agents. Fury and Liam were both on the line. Liam was explaining to Fury that with all the testing he had conducted, he came to the conclusion that she, the sword, and the hammer all came from the same place, wherever that was.
"Add that with the fact that the intruder seems to actually know who I am, and we've got a solid lead." She told Fury. "You've got to let me talk with him. He knows something." There was a begging tone to her voice that she didn't really like, but it seemed necessary in getting what she wanted.
"Wheaton, the guy managed to get through half the agents we had on site." Fury told her. "What makes you think you can handle him?"
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "You're kidding, right?" She breathed. "Are you forgetting the whole alien-superhuman thing I've got going on?"
She heard both Fury and Liam chuckle through the phone. "I'll permit it." Fury finally told her. "So long as Coulson is standing watch nearby in case things get out of hand."
Her heart surged. "Thank you. I'll call with an update after." She pressed the button, ending the call. She left the small makeshift room, a pleased smile on her face.
Coulson and Barton were waiting for her outside of the tarped cell they had put the intruder in. Both men looked stern and formidable, arms crossed over their chests and grim faces. "Let me guess." Clint said as she approached. "Fury gave you the go-ahead."
"Mhmm." She replied with a close-lipped smile. "But Coulson has to babysit me in case I need help." It earned a snicker from Clint. "Let's go." She clapped Coulson on the shoulder.
The two men shared a look as she waltzed into the holding room. The intruder was sitting in a chair, nothing else in the room. Coulson stood by the door, but she made her way over, standing in front of the man.
"Hey." She said. "We need to have a talk."
He looked up at her slowly. His eyes were the same blue as hers. "Are these Midgardians holding you captive as well?" Before she could answer, he was shaking his head with a smile. "No. No mortals could hold you. You must be leading them. Tell them to release me immediately."
She arched an eyebrow, glancing over at Coulson. He shrugged and she turned her attention back to the intruder. "You're in no position to be making demands, bud. And, for the record, I'm the one asking all the questions."
"You do not know who I am." He sighed.
"But you know who I am." She said. He nodded. "Well, then. Who am I?" He asked who she thought she was. "Rosalie Wheaton, that's the name I've been going by for the past four years. Ever since I woke up in the middle of a corn field in Kansas. I don't remember anything before that."
"No, you wouldn't." He said it as if he knew exactly why she didn't remember. "The magic of the Dark Elves is strange, but that of Malekith's is stranger still."
She tried not to draw conclusions that he was delusional. After all, she lived in a world where people and weapons fell from the sky and she had superhuman abilities. But he was talking about elves and magic. Maybe he'd had one too many drinks while playing Dungeons and Dragons or watching Lord of the Rings.
"You lost me at magic. I have no clue what you're talking about."
He stared back at her, his eyes narrowed in deep thought. "He made you forget everything entirely and then banished you to another realm." He murmured. She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Four years isn't right at all. It has been at least a hundred or two, maybe even three." Three hundred years? There was no way. "Malekith, a sorcerer and leader of the Dark Elves of Svartalfheim, came to Asgard the night you die-disappeared. He was searching for a relic that is no longer in our possession, but he did not know that. You were the one to find him once the guards had set off the alarms. It was so very like you, charging right into a battle with no thought about it. You chased him out of the palace, and we cornered him on the Bifrost Bridge. He shot some sort of spell or something at you and demanded the relic or he would kill you. You said that you would rather die than hand anything over to him and he-and he threw you off the Bridge." His face was drawn together in sorrow, his eyes no longer as bright as they had been. "We all thought you dead. No one comes back from that. Mother did not leave her chamber for weeks. She tried to hide it, but we knew that she wept for you. I wanted to invade Svartalfheim and destroy the entire realm in your honor, but Father would not allow it. The whole realm mourned your death."
Her head was spinning. Mother? Father? She closed her eyes, trying to connect it all in her head. She still didn't know how she was supposed to know this guy, but he seemed to know her very well.
"This is fantastic news!" He said suddenly. Her eyes flew open. Coulson had his gun out, aimed at the man. She held up her hand to him, signaling for him to hold off on firing. "Mother and Father will be overjoyed to learn that you are alive! Oh, and Loki as well! In fact, everyone will be! When we get back to Asgard, I am sure that Father will hold a celebration in honor of your return home. You used to love your birthday celebrations, especially your tenth one. That was when Father gave you your sword, and me my hammer." His face grew serious as he looked back at her. "You still have the sword, don't you?"
"Yes." She said without thinking. "Of course."
He nodded, seemingly pleased with her answer. "Good. Kaos is a fierce weapon, made just for you." She hadn't even known the blade had a name. "It is a sword fit for a dangerous warrior, forged in the heart of a dying star, made to hone the power of chaos."
Now, she was sure he was just throwing nonsense at her. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe he didn't know anything, and he was just making things up to buy himself time. "Who am I?" She repeated her earlier question. If it was another crackpot answer, she was going to tell Coulson to send him to the Cube.
The man smiled back at her. Nothing about the smile seemed malicious or ill-willed. There was something about it that reminded her of Liam's smile whenever she managed to properly harness her power. Pride, that was what it was. There was pride in his smile. "You are my little sister." He told her. "Nola Odinsdottir, Princess of Asgard, Goddess of Chaos and Destruction." He said it all so nonchalantly.
"Who?" She and Coulson said simultaneously. The man grinned back at her. "I need a minute." She mumbled. She shoved past Coulson, leaving the holding room.