A/N: So, just a warning: with this scene we begin the more intense of the fighting sequences and it gets decently graphic. Trigger warning for suicide, though it's not explicitly detailed, fire/burning, and for gore.
Thanks for reading either way! Jump to after the page break between paragraphs for after the graphic business.
They set off immediately for the other realm, Loki taking twenty or so of his strongest men that he could spare, and putting Bylestir on the throne in his absence, along with his war general. Between the two of them he and Natasha both hoped they could manage to keep the throne intact, and the remaining Jotuns on his side. After all, what other choice did they have? She knew he hated leaving, but if there was the slightest chance he could bring Helbindi to heel or to their side once again then it had to be taken. As it was, Thor had left Frigga in charge of Asgard as he, and a group of the mutants, met them on Vanaheim, near the realm's capital. The two estranged brothers shared the briefest of nods in each other's direction as Natasha came forward to pull Thor into her arms for a quick, tight hug, falling into rank soon afterwards. She never knew when there'd be another chance for it, and after spotting the warriors for Alfheim among their ranks, she wasn't about to do anything other than that.
"Heimdall reported that Helbindi was seen in the village, pillaging and destroying as he wishes. There are Midgardian homes where he is centering his attack," Thor said, the group moving as quickly as they could on foot. They'd picked a spot less than half a mile away, and without any form of jumping between worlds Helbindi wouldn't be able to escape quickly enough. Natasha felt her hand immediately shoot towards the knives she'd strapped to either of her thighs, shedding the furs with a softly murmured spell. He'd done the same and she could see the sweat beading on his brow. They weren't used to such heat, especially after Jotuneheim's climate. Loki, wisely, stayed near the front, wishing to be the one to see and speak with Helbindi before things grew even more out of control, and though he took his men to the front with him Natasha opted to stay nearer to the other Midgardian and Asgardian fighters, the former's pace slower than those of the enormous frost giants. Kitty was among them, tensing and releasing her fists, brow pulled tight. Natasha wondered if the woman's nightmares had returned or if she was simply doing this to herself once she caught sight of the deep bags under Kitty's eyes. One of the boys, a thin, brown haired one, put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. She thanked him, called him Peter quietly, and Natasha's attention from there was stolen by the crash heard just ahead of them, then kept by the burning fires in the not so distant city. The wails reminded her far too much of Midgard, if she was being truthful.
Judging by the tightness on Thor, Sif, and Steve's faces, they felt the same. The pace quickened, Thor shouting out directions for the Aesir to go with him, and there were already shouts and bellows from the frost giants that had made it to the clearing first. Kitty sped up, sinking through the ground and reappearing towards the clearing, Peter launching himself forward with-was that webbing? She didn't have time to consider it, all of them already speeding to try and get there before any more damage was done. The tree line was already on fire, and Nat had to skirt around the flames as best she could in order to get the rest of them through it, trying to take point as best she could manage. She owed them her life, owed them much more than she could ever give for not having gotten through to Thor in time. This was the least she could do. A shard of ice narrowly missed her skull, melting as it got too close to the fire, and the giant that had thrown it got Mjolnir thrown in his face as a thanks for his attack.
Once she'd heard about the attack Natasha had steeled herself for the very worst. Had she not, she might not have made it through the gore and the massacre that met her. Pieces, not even whole bodies, were strewn on the ground, some Vanir, some Midgardian, all butchered. Slaughtered, like damn animals. The wounds had frozen over before there was even time for the victims to bleed, and judging by the pain and shock that filled what faces she could find she had no reason to believe they had any warning of what was happening until it was already finished and they'd had their bodies severed.
She still felt her stomach turn, and when Thor ran forward to track Loki and his other men down she caught Steve by the shoulder.
"Stay with me," she demanded, her eyes flashing as she caught his. She didn't want to be entirely alone. He called for a few of his own men to stay behind after giving her a quick nod of approval.
"Help me find the wounded and defenseless. We need to get them to shelter and safety," she said, acting as quickly as she knew how. As though it wasn't enough that they had Jotuns to deal with, they seemed to have brought marauders with them, bands of ill-fitting scum come to rape and pillage where they could. One of them dared to get closer to Natasha once the group had disbanded to search, and she sliced through his throat as simply as if she were tearing through a piece of paper. His body convulsed, spraying blood in an arc that somehow fit her mood, before he collapsed to the ground. She was far enough away by the time he hit, taking stock of the situation that they'd been dragged into. The Vanir were a peaceful people, and the Jotuns had seemed to take pleasure in destroying everything of theirs that they could get their frigid hands on, clubs having battered down enormous houses, ice daggers having speared men and women alike as though they were beasts to be slaughtered. The giants hadn't, however, banked on the ingenuity of their victims. The forest that surrounded them had been set ablaze, cutting off the Jotun's means of escape, trapping them where they were until the fires died down. Though she was certain they were bigger when they'd first landed, before the fires were set, now, in comparison to their own giants they seemed pathetic almost. She saw a flash of black hair-still connected to a body-and prayed it was Loki and that he was safe, heard the thunder rumbling overhead as she dragged out one of the bodies from a destroyed hut, the woman shouting about the baby that didn't move in her arms and swore that if Thor made it out alive she'd be a better wife, a better lover. Better. However way the Norns saw fit.
She just couldn't lose them.
One of the mutants had managed to put out the fire to the left of the village, and Steve was leading the way out of it, carrying a little girl on his back and another woman in his arms, followed by a series of others bringing the injured away. One of the other mutants seemed to be absorbing the energy from the sun that shone above them, turning it into flames, trapping the attacking jotuns from chasing after them. To say nothing about the marauders, however. Nat shouted as she threw and buried her knife into the spine of one, running up to twist his neck quick enough to send him to the ground, a boneless heap, in the next few seconds, barely avoiding being slashed by another before she stuck her knife into his eye socket and ripped it back out to allow him to fall.
Her attention turned to the woman she'd pulled from the wreckage who was shouting at her, demanding she bring her baby back, that she needed her child. As the woman's bony fingers extended the pale, limp child in Natasha's direction, tears in the woman's deep brown eyes as she gagged on her own sorrow, Nat felt her heart tremble.
"I can't. It's dead," she felt herself saying. "I'm sorry, but we need to get you out of here."
The woman blinked once, twice. Not understanding, she pushed the baby into Natasha's arms. "Heal him," she begged. "You have magic-do it!"
Natasha felt sick. All this carnage, all this pain, and it was this child that upset her the most?
"I can't, but we need to go. Please," she begged, trying to hand the boneless body back to the woman, whose skin grew sallow and her eyes grew blank. Before Natasha could comprehend what was happening the woman was shrieking something, ripped one of the daggers from Natasha's side, and Nat had to turn her head to the side to avoid seeing her drag the blade across her throat. She gasped, tears clouding her vision as she stared at the blood stained grass, and when she looked back at the woman she could barely keep from throwing up. What in the Hel had she done?
The baby in Natasha's arms twitched, growing strength. No longer did it feel like dead weight in her arms as it began to twitch, and in her shock Natasha nearly dropped it, gasping down at the tiny body in her arms as bright brown eyes stared up at her. What magic was this?
She'd have to ask Loki later, the world coming down around her as one of the flaming trees came down to the ground with a crash, shouts of agony coming from friend or foe, Nat couldn't tell anymore, one of the Jotuns having caught on fire as he fell on the tree. Clutching the baby closer to her chest, Natasha turned and ran, not trusting herself to stay any longer. The other men would look after one another, would take care of each other, at least until she could get back to them.
Steve had managed to find a way to the main city, or at least what she could only assume was the capital of the realm, judging by how much grander everything was. He'd set up camp with their healers on the edge of it, giving Nat the shortest distance in order to hand the baby off to one of the women already gathered there. "I don't . . . he was, I thought he was dead," she said, trying to find the words to explain what she'd just seen happen, only to have them stillborn on her tongue. She could hardly believe the child was even moving, let alone cooing and raising one of its arms towards her. She stumbled backwards, the world suddenly pitching her forward until she hit the grass face first and knew no more.
Something cool was being pressed to her forehead, just as a dull throbbing climbed atop her consciousness and pressed down. Hard. She groaned, voice quiet, as she forced herself to open her eyes and blinked through the candle light at the man at her side. Loki's face was bruised, and he had a split lip, but he smiled down at her all the same, pulling the damp cloth from her forehead to replace it with his lips.
"Thank the Norns you're alive," he murmured against her skin before he pulled away. There was a snore from the other side of the room that made her jump, head turning to look far too quickly, a crick forming in her neck even as she noticed Thor sleeping in the chair in the corner.
Thank the Norns indeed. She slumped in her bed, slowly turning to smile at Loki. "What happened? I remember I brought a baby here and-."
"You had a rather nasty cut to your side. Took a few healers in order to get you stitched up properly. You were so pale when I came back I thought-." She watched his adam's apple bob with his painful swallow, watched him gather himself again. "We got Helbindi. He's in the dungeons right now, under watch by one of the mutants. Roberto, or Bobby, he calls himself I believe. They all have a plethora of names and there are so many of them to begin with." He sighed and seated himself at chair near her bed. "How are you?"
"Exhausted. But good. Tell me how you got him? Did we lose many in the attack?"
He shook his head and pressed one of his fingers to her lips. "Not important. You're alive. That's what matters."
"Loki, I watched a woman sacrifice-she literally killed herself and somehow brought her baby to life. She wouldn't have had to if we'd found out a way to stop Helbindi in the first place. This is important," Nat choked, her eyes brimming with tears she knew she had no control over, as though her body was trying to push the shock out of her as best it could. "Please. I need to know."
Loki grew silent and still beside her, dropping his gaze as his fingers played with the cloth. "We lost all of the soldiers that came with us from Jotunheim, as well as those whom Helbindi brought with him. It was only a small faction of his true numbers, though now that he is our prisoner, for lack of a better word, it is unclear whether or not they will follow him should his allegiance change or if they will fight for Thanos."
"And Helbindi himself?" She asked, trying not to think of the twenty men who'd died fighting for her and this war they had no other claim in, and how she didn't even know their damn names.
"Unsure as to what he'll do. He's badly beaten, but more than that he's hurt over our father's actions. I understand it, but I cannot get through to him that I do not wish to be his enemy. So, I cannot say what will happen."
It was understandable. None of them wanted to get their hopes up, it would only end in disaster. Oh how the fates loved to toy with their hopes and expectations. Natasha had already gotten so lucky keeping both of her men at her side for as long as she had, keeping them both alive despite all the odds. How many more chances was she going to get?
"What about the damage done to Vanaheim?" She forced herself to ask, clearing her dry throat. He offered her a goblet of wine, which she accepted with a murmured thanks before downing it. It was sweet, spicy and warm, and more than that felt like absolute perfection on her throat.
"Extensive. That town was obliterated, but more than that the confidence in our cause . . . we won but with very heavy casualties, Natasha. It will not go unnoticed that we can hardly police and patrol the realms as he have once before. Since Midgard's demise, well, having the armies from Alfheim might be our only chance at trying to prove that we can take care of our own and all those under our protection. I hope."
He hoped? They were going to need a great deal more than that, this they both knew. But he didn't want to talk about it anymore, instead asking if he could crawl into bed with her. She nodded, shifting to the side, and with his arm wrapped around her shoulders, her head on his chest, she pretended to fall asleep to the steady beating of his heart. Only then did he quake beneath her, trembling as he struggled to breathe evenly, and before long she smelled salt in the air. He didn't say anything when her arm tightened around his waist, just breathed her in and let out a shaky gasp of pain, one they all felt so keenly.
A/N: Alright, thanks so much for reading and I'm sorry for the delay between updates! Hope this was worth it!