Chapter 5. Warrior Princess
For several seconds, after Odin was gone, nobody moved. Loki and his family were still on guard, just in case, but the Aesir were simply too shocked by all the revelations, and the fact that they hadn't the slightest idea of what to do anymore...
"Queen Frigga..." The Norns called next, voices a tinkle of bells (against the cold ice they'd been when speaking to Odin. "Your people need you... Are you ready to be their queen again?"
"I..." The lady straightened up to her ful height before bowing her head to the Norns. "Yes of course my ladies, I'm always ready to serve my realm and the Higher Powers."
"And you shall." The Norns were still speaking in synch. "The Last Queen of Asgard..."
Meneliel couldn't help it, she sagged. It wasn't too obvious, only those closest to her noticed, and they also knew why; if Frigga was to be the last queen, that meant she'd never be. She would never be the Black Queen... it was a relief, somehow even stronger than the one she'd felt when Odin was finally gone.
The Queen got to work instantly, ordering Heimdall to return to his post, Tyr to lead the army back to the barracks and the heralds to let everyone know that there wasn't going to be war (she was sure most of the realm would be celebrating that before long).
"So, Ragnarok won't be coming then?" Fandral asked, half-confused, half-giddy.
"Oh no!" Skuld actually laughed at him. "Ragnarok will come... someday."
That confused several people, not only the blonde.
"The end must always come, it's the nature of all living things, and beings." Urd explained serenely. "Even those that are believed to be immortals in certain realms; the end will come for them too one day, even if it's millennia from now." She shook her head. "All creatures are meant to die someday... they're just not meant to know when, or how. Only we, and the Power we serve, can know such things."
Everyone nodded in acceptance. It was logical; after all, what point was there to life if you spent it worrying about the day you would die? It only made it so you stopped really living. It did not matter if you were meant to live a hundred years, a thousand, or more; you always knew the end would come, eventually, and that was meant to make you value life, because you knew one day it would end, and you needed to make the best of it while you have it. Just like with everything else in the universe.
Knowing that with everything being over the Norns would most likely be leaving at any moment Meneliel hurried to them, bowing deeply at the three.
"You have my most profound gratitude, Honorable Ladies, for what you've done here today." She said in her most sincere voice. "I know not how we would have managed to solve this matter peacefully without your help."
"We're as happy about this outcome as you, little princess." Verdandi told her.
The brunette felt a strange tick at being addressed like that, not because there was anything wrong with it, but rather because it seemed as if she could almost remember something, about someone else calling her by that nickname... confused, she pushed it aside.
"We love helping our favorite people!" The Maiden cried out enthusiastically.
That, certainly called the attention of more than one person.
"Skuld!" The other two called, chastising.
The youngest of the Fates stopped laughing, curling upon herself slightly and letting out what could probably be called chagrin.
"Favorite people?" Hela repeated confused.
"What did she she mean by that?" Azazeal asked almost at the same time.
"There is a reason why we are the only individuals to hold the power we possess." Urd explained in a solemn tone. "We're what's left of the oldest race in the universe..."
"Celestials..." Meneliel breathed out the word before she could fully think about it.
"Exactly." The Crone nodded. "We're the last pure ones. However, there are others out there, certain individuals across the universe that have the blood of the celestials still running through their veins. Enough for us to feel a connection to them." She looked at Loki and each of his children in turn. "You are some of those people, the largest group of such individuals we've ever met. Though none more powerful than you."
Her eyes were looking straight at Meneliel... well, at least that probably explained why she was the one who ended becoming Lady Infinity in the other future (the one that, hopefully, would never come to pass).
"It's not even your magic, or your connection to the earth; though those two certainly give you an advantage." Urd continued. "It's your will. You aren't the kind of person that, when faced with a challenge, thinks of all the things that might go wrong, all the obstacles to be overcome. No, you just tell yourself it must be done, and you go and do it; almost as if you cannot really see all the things that might stop you..."
"Most of the time I've made such decisions it's been in situations where even allowing myself to think of failure would mean death, either to me or someone I loved; that's never been, nor will it ever be an option." The half-elf explained in her most serene voice.
It was the truth. When she'd done her best to race and attract the police's attention before they got to Mia... when she ran away from the Garrows in Chicago and lived on the streets for a while... when she'd been thrown off that bridge and into the water dozens of feet bellow in the border... when she was kidnapped and tortured by an insane ADA in LA... when she was forced to jump into the river while still heavy with chains and hurt... when she raced against time to find Phil before it was too late... when she infiltrated that villa in Italy, alone, because her team had been lost along the way... when all she could feel was pain and all she'd hear was a voice whispering 'hold on' desperately in her ear... time and again throughout their years battling Hydra as they did their best to protect the innocent... and most recently, when her future self had looked at her with empty eyes and told her that unless something changed in three years time her mother would be dead and her father would go insane, bringing about the end of days...
"We've always done our best to be there for those who have a connection to us." Skuld added, her happy tone sobering just slightly as she added. "It hasn't always gone well, like what happened with Malekith in the past, or what's going on right now with Ronan... but I do believe you're my most favorite person ever!"
Meneliel would say that something didn't sound quite right (grammatically) with that sentence, but she did not think it really mattered. It just seemed to be part of Skuld, she was the Maiden, the youngest of the three Norns in many ways, almost seemed like a perpetual child. Urd was the oldest, the experience, the wisdom; while Verdandi was the middle, the mother, the nurturing one. And didn't that bring things to the half-elf's head?
"We've always been there for you, in any way we could." Verdandi said right then, as if she'd just heard Meneliel's thoughts somehow.
Then, to everyone's shock, she pushed back the hood of her cloak, and allowed it to fall open. She was beautiful, and young looking (though certainly no child), skin like peaches, hazel eyes that seemed to shine with the light of the stars, shoulder-blade length hair in very loose curls, in a color that was between dark-auburn and red, a crown of exotic flowers in full-bloom upon her head; she was wearing a Greek-style tunic in shades of green, orange and red, like a patchwork of a garden in bloom.
Urd and Skuld followed her lead. They were redheads too, with eyes more or less like Verdandi's, but there were differences too: the lines on Urd's face showed someone older (though she didn't look what most would consider old, more like well-aged), and her hair was longer, lighter and silver in some parts, while her tunic was a mix of the darkest red, brown and amber; Skuld for her part was the image of perfect youth, her skin bright and unblemished, hair of the brightest red, to her shoulders, her tunic was a mix of yellow, light green and white.
Most of those still in the valley could only gape in shock, knowing they were the first people in millennia to lay eyes on the Norns as they truly were. Meneliel was shocked too, though for an entirely different reason:
"Miss Matthews...?" She gasped, breathless.
It took a beat or two, but Phil soon realized why his beloved was so shocked; she'd told him more than once about her favorite teacher in middle-school: the history teacher, Miss Matthews. The one who'd confronted Skye when she'd first stopped using the surname Bennett, the one who listened to the young girl cry that she was a Daughter of None, who'd held her through her sobs, who'd promised that same little, broken girl that she'd one day have a family...
"You knew..." Phil murmured. "You always knew how things would turn out for her..."
"Not exactly." Verdandi admitted with a small smile. "Even I am not all-knowing, after all, I am not the Higher Power, only an envoy... and like she said, she's a Child of Chaos, her future can only be guessed at..." She let out a breath. "I knew that her path would cross with that of her family sooner or later, and I knew that both before and afterwards there would be people who would see her, the real her. I hoped she would be happy..."
"That wasn't the only time either." Meneliel commented thoughtfully.
"No, it wasn't." The Mother admitted.
A volunteer at St. Agnes, she wasn't there all the time but would return every so often... a nurse working the night-shift, helping the little girl with the broken arm who couldn't seem to stop crying... a social-worker asking her if she was happy having just one Papa and two siblings (there was no mom in the family)... a waitress in some small dinner secretly giving her a little more to eat than what she could pay... a woman in the highway, offering to take her out of the rain and drive her to the next town for free...
Every single time it had been her, Verdandi, and Skye had never noticed... so it wasn't only SHIELD that had been protecting her her whole life, the Norn too...
"Thank you..." She whispered.
For a few moments she didn't know what else to say, and then she remembered something, a thought she'd had years before, right after finding out about China, and Agent Avery, and how she'd been moved around not because nobody wanted her, but for her own safety.
"I once wondered if I would ever see you again." The half-elf admitted quietly, emotionally. "I wondered, if I tried, would I be able to find you? Wanted to see you, to see how you were, tell you that you were right, that I found a family... or a family found me... And now, now I have so many people..." She half-chuckled, half-sobbed. "Though I guess you already knew."
"I knew." Verdandi nodded. "And nothing has ever made me happier than to see you find your place, than to see absolute joy light your face..."
Meneliel didn't say anything else, she'd no words; and while a part of her knew she was probably absolutely insane, she allowed her instincts to take over and she threw herself at the Norn, embracing her tightly, allowing the contact to communicate everything mere words would never be enough to.
Even Verdandi seemed shocked at the move, but she just smiled and embraced the young half-elf back just as tightly. Being who she was, human (or the equivalent) contact was extremely rare for them, and it felt nice, especially coming from someone they (but especially she) had invested so much of themselves, their minds and hearts in. It'd been many years since the 'Mother' had allowed herself to care so much for someone, even one with the blood of the celestials, the last person, in fact, had been Frigga (in the early days). The Maiden's favorite was and had always been Loki; while the Crone (being more aware of the fragility of life than her sisters, in a way) chose not to make such attachments (least she suffer their absence sooner or later).
No words were pronounced, no goodbyes. If given the chance Thor would probably have offered the Norns to have them stay, and they knew; but it wasn't their way. Already they'd stayed longer than they ever planned (they'd done a lot of things never before seen) and the time had come for them to go back to their home, to their duties.
"Never forget." They stated in sync again, even as they began to grow translucent. "We're always around, always watching..."
Everyone bowed their heads, sending their prayers after them. And then the Norns were gone. It was all over and done.
xXx
Meneliel's whole body was practically vibrating by the time they made it Asgard's palace. Sif directed a quick look at Loki, who nodded in understanding, before the Goddess of War took hold of the younger woman and began pulling her to the side.
"Come on, this way." She said.
"What...?" The half-elf wasn't expecting that. "Where are we...? Sif! I need to go with my family to the throne room!"
"You need to take care of the adrenaline burning through your veins sooner rather than later." Sif informed her in a no-nonsense tone. "You need to get out that excess of energy or you're going to explode, and that won't be good. And there won't be anything in the throne room for at least a couple of hours, until everyone in the Realm learns what happened in the valley and the vast implications of it all are thoroughly processed." She shook her head. "Which means we've got some time to kill."
"Very well." The brunette agreed grudgingly.
Truth was she knew as much as the older woman how much she needed to fight someone or something to get our that energy. Especially if she was expected to deal with the council afterwards (and she just a feeling at least one person would have words for her, either regarding her visits to Asgard over the last years, her life in Midgard, her heritage, or all three together).
"Will there even be anybody in the training grounds?" The girl asked almost as an afterthought. "I mean, we did all just almost went to war and all..."
"This is Asgard, little princess..." Sif drawled with a light smirk. "There is always someone in the training grounds."
Meneliel had a feeling that was going to become a favored nickname soon.
She was right. There were a number of men in the training grounds, mostly trainees, and the youngest soldiers; most of which the half-elf knew already as she'd sparred against them at one point or another during the last handful of years. Sif, realizing the company they were in the moment they stepped into, whistled loudly.
"Challenge!" She called at her top voice as soon as she had everyone's attention.
It was the usual call of any experience fighter to a number of warriors when they wanted to fight someone, anyone, right then and there.
"Are you really that desperate for a fight, Lady Sif?" The Quartermaster, Lord Val, asked.
"Not for me, for the little princess." Sif answered, signaling to the younger woman by her side.
Yes, that was definitely becoming her nickname.
"Little princess, huh?" Val arched a brow. "We've been hearing a great many things around here, regarding your little princess Sif..." He looked the half elf up and down, assessing. "Some say she's the daughter of Loki, and that together they will destroy the world, other say she's here to save it... several too have called her princess, of several realms too!"
Meneliel didn't answer just stood ramrod straight, head held high, challenging.
"Since when do you care about anything that happens outside of a fight Val?" Sif demanded.
"Fair enough." The older warrior admitted, waving them forward.
The soldiers reacted instinctively, opening the way for the two women, some getting ready themselves to fight. Sif and Meneliel walked to the edge of the bigger mat, the one used to the 'official' sparring matches. There the half-elf stopped, considering things a moment before taking the tunic off smoothly. There were a couple of distant wolf-whistles, though no one dared own up to them when Sif looked around, challenging.
"I'm not about to ruin that tunic in a spar, it was a gift." She explained the other warrior-lady.
Then she proceeded to unzip her boots (easier than the laces the people of Asgard had), and strip herself of all her blades. Leaving her in her short fighting-clothes and with her staff in hand.
"Shall we get started?" She asked cheekily as she walked to the center of the mat.
A quarter of an hour later the last soldier fell to the ground for the last time, unable to continue fighting, leaving Meneliel standing on the center of the mat, body still arched to a side, staff in a diagonal across her body due to her last move.
The fight had been amazing. After the first handful of soldiers had fallen, one by one, in a matter of seconds each, Val and Sif had both pushed the rest to attack her in groups. From there the groups just kept getting bigger and harder, until she was fighting practically nonstop. Some of the soldiers would get back up after being knocked down, others didn't (others couldn't, as they were knocked out). But eventually Meneliel won.
It still wasn't enough, she could still feel the tension of everything that had happened earlier. There had been no battle, no war, no Ragnarok... and as fortunate as that was for everyone, it'd left her with all that energy inside her... and fifteen minutes fighting practically nonstop against training and young soldiers just hadn't been enough.
The men who'd chosen not to fight her, or who'd given up after being pushed down the first time, began working at pulling away the unconscious forms of their companions; they could probably sense that Meneliel wasn't done yet. However, the half-elf's attention was captured by something else right then: her family's arrival.
It appeared that her continued fight had slowly but surely called the attention of a great number of people. To the point where, by the end, she was being watched by most of the army. She didn't care about any of them, though she could hear some commenting on how she had to be cheating as there was no way a girl, and one not even half a century old, could be that good.
The 'little princess' shook her staff a couple of times, activating the enchantment that allowed it to collapse into itself for easy carrying, and placed it in its holster in the small of her back before moving swiftly around the fallen bodies of her opponents in the direction of her family.
"You haven't had enough yet." Loki said the moment he laid eyes on her.
"No." She admitted. "I'm better than I was earlier, but still on a rather short leash."
"If you don't find a worthy opponent I'll fight against you myself." Azazeal assured her.
Meneliel smiled brightly at him. She had sparred against him before, though never all-out and she'd always wanted to, there had to be a reason why he once was the second in command of the Asgardian army...
"Lord Azazeal..." His name was soon on everyone's lips.
"Well look what the tide has dragged back!" Val called loudly, approaching.
"Tis good to see ya, Valerius." Azazeal said in a very formal tone, bowing his head.
He was the only one who called the quartermaster by his full-name, original name (no one knew for sure which). Truth was the two were Eihenjar, had arrived to Asgard within a short time of each other... and while Azazeal's name had been given to him during his stay in Valhala (after he forgot his original one, and all about his first life, other than he was from Midgard and had been a warrior), Val did remember some things, and had kept something of his own name. Rumor had it he'd once been Midgardian too... though no one knew for sure.
"Such a long time... though I knew you would be coming back one day." Val nodded, satisfied. "This place has not been the same since you and yours left." He meant the Nephilim. "Mighty boring things have gotten." He smirked, before turning to Hela and bowing his head in respect. "Princess Hela..."
"Lord Val." Hela nodded in respect.
He was probably one of the very few individuals in Asgard who'd never thought less of her for her parentage.
"Hey!" Fandral called loudly as he pushed his way through. "Has anyone seen Volstagg?!"
Heavy silence was his answer.
"I'm afraid we were bearers of bad news for him." Hela admitted quietly.
"Lady Halle has joined the valkyries in Valhalla." Azazeal announced in the most formal voice he could muster. "She's done great honor to her name and her father's, fighting the Hunter Odin sent after our family. She managed to eliminate him shortly before the wounds took her too. Sadly, my match's sister was nowhere close enough to aid in healing her in time."
"And there's no way to be sure she'd have been able to." Hela added. "Not with the kind of poison that was used..."
"The little spitfire is dead...?" Fandral gasped.
It'd been a long time since he, since anyone in Asgard had seen Halle Volstaggdottir, but none of them had expected to suddenly be hearing about her death...
"Who?" Hogun wanted to know. "Who was it that killed her?"
"Yaegar." Azazeal answered calmly. "And there's no avenging quest for you to go on, as I already said, he's dead, Halle saw to it before she herself perished."
"Good for her..." Fandral and Hogun murmured at the same time.
"I suppose Volstagg has gone to take the news to the rest of his family..." Sif guessed.
Azazeal nodded at her. It had been a hard conversation to have with the man, and even harder to hear what he had to say:
"I never approved, when she told me she was Fenrir's lover, I thought her insane, told her that too. Then when the announcement came, that the three siblings had been condemned for Dark Arts, when I saw her standing by the Allfather's side as an enforcer, I thought that was good. She had chosen right, she'd chosen her people, her King, her family... she was loyal. She wasn't like you..." The old warrior shook his head. "Now I see you here, and I hear what you've said and I wonder if maybe I felt pride at the wrong things all along. Because... maybe if I'd approved of her relationship, she'd have felt secure enough in it to fight for her love, for Fenrir, and even if she'd been exiled with the rest of you... I know you would have taken care of her, and today I would be welcoming her back, instead of receiving news of her passing." He let out a breath. "Hadassah is gonna be devastated..."
No one had said anything in reply to that, there had been nothing to say. Each of them had made their choices five hundred years before, and several times again since. Halle had forsaken Fenrir, had chosen to become a Hunter. And while in the end she'd redeemed herself, done the right thing, died for it (and been taken into Valhalla for her courageous actions), the connection with Fenrir, and through him with the rest of Loki's family had been lost a long time before. Besides, recently Fenrir only had eyes for one lady... one of less than a handful to have ever visited him in his imprisonment... and the only one not connected to him as family...
"There's going to be a feast tonight." Phil informed his wife. "Queen Frigga has promised to give explanations of today's events then, as well as to explain who all of us are... officially."
"That's going to be a mess..." His lover mumbled tiredly, running a hand through her hair. "Does our family know we're alright...?" She paused, reconsidered. "The rest of the family, I mean?"
"Azazeal and Hela communicated with Casarmi earlier to let her know everything." Phil nodded. "Also so your parents could see the twins were alright. Depending on how things might go tonight we might end up having to stay around a few more days..."
"Ugh..." The half-elf groaned, before pulling her hair back into a loose bun. "I'm going back to the mats. If I'm still this tense when the stupid elders begin running their mouths I might just end up killing someone..."
And that wouldn't be good, regardless of how good it might make her feel... especially if she stopped and thought about how each of those individuals had treated her father during all those years and centuries... (and she knew, she'd seen it!)
"Please, you talk as if you're this great warrior..." Fandral called after her. "You're a girl!"
"So what?" She snarked over her shoulder without stopping. "So is Sif, in case you've missed that Mr. Oblivious, and she's been fighting by your side for centuries!"
"Sif is... Sif!" Fandral replied brokenly.
One thing became obvious then: either Fandral had never seen Sif as a woman, or he'd never really seen her as a warrior. Neither of them was sure just which one, but whichever it was, it just wasn't good. It made Sif livid, however, instead of throwing herself against Fandral, she threw him at Meneliel.
"So you think you are stronger than us simply because we're girls?" She snorted. "Fandral, I could take you down with one arm tied to my back! And so could Menel!"
"As if!" Fandral hissed, taking offense.
"Oh my friend... you don't want to say that..." Thor began with a low chuckle.
"Thor! My friend!" Fandral called dramatically to the other blonde. "You cannot tell me you agree with what Sif is saying! They cannot possibly be stronger than us men!"
"Look at all the bodies strewn around this place and you might want to reconsider your words." Val said good-naturedly, though with a hit of steel.
He knew Fandral's kind, those that saw women as less, simply for being such; in his opinion it was absolutely idiotic. He'd trained Lady Sif himself, from the day the two princes had taken the small girl in too big-clothes and badly-maintained armor to him, after she'd defeated all other aspirants to the guard during the yearly competitions. Most had thought she must have used some kind of sorcery to defeat the other fighters, but Val knew better, he could see the steel behind the girl's eyes, her wish to fight. Her golden hair, which would have been a source of pride for most girls, was a shame for her, a constant reminder of her sex... and then came the day when she arrived to training with her hair raven-black...
It was only time later that Val learnt it'd been Prince Loki's doing; and while most called it a bad prank, trickery, and he'd even been punished for it (especially after he'd said there was no reversing it), Val could see the truth of what he'd done. Loki had given Sif something that allowed the girl to set herself apart from all other Asgardian women. She was no longer another like all the other 'golden ladies', she was the only black-haired woman in Asgard (not counting Hela, who'd hardly been around), and it became a part of her, just like being the goddess of war... The Quartermaster knew she'd come to actually be proud of her hair, though all the same he wondered if she knew why Loki had done it...
"Trickery!" Fandral crowed. "Just like her father!"
"What you call trickery I call sorcery." Meneliel replied sharply. "And it runs through my veins much more easily and naturally than the alcohol you have in yours!"
Laughter rose all around, mostly from the soldiers the half-elf had defeated already. Fandral, obviously, took offense, and immediately moved to the mat.
"Are you sure you wanna do this, little princess?" Fandral used the same nickname as everyone else, but his tone was mocking rather than respectful. "You think you can take on an actual warrior going all out?"
"You're the one who needs to be sure, warrior..." She mocked his title like he'd mocked hers. "Can you take me going all out? Because with me 'all out' is more than just my body, a staff and a dozen blades... it's magic, and chaos and ice..." Her tone turned mischievous. "Maybe you would prefer it if I tone it down, for you..."
Fandral didn't reply, instead he just drew his long blade and threw himself straight at Meneliel. She wasn't even surprised. In fact, she was pretty much laughing like crazy even as she flipped backwards twice to avoid his crazed slashes at where she'd been standing (and really, if she hadn't moved, he'd have killed her!).
That fact did not go unnoticed by anyone in the training grounds, and while most expected Loki to react angrily or even violently, he just laughed.
"Are you alright, brother?" Thor actually asked.
"Brother mine..." For the first time in many years Loki said those words with a smile on his face. "My daughter has been dancing with death far longer than you could imagine possible, she has more than enough experience at this."
"Nowadays she just considers it fun." Phil admitted with a rueful smile.
On Midgard people would have looked at him as if he were crazy (well, anyone who didn't work for SHIELD and therefore ended up 'dancing with death' practically as often as Skye did), in Asgard no one batted an eyelash. Thor worried, though he knew it was his instinct as an uncle; while his warrior side felt the utmost respect for Meneliel and what she was obviously capable of (he remembered her fight against Amora...)
The battle between Fandral and Meneliel went on for longer than the 'spar' against all the junior soldiers. Soon the centered mats stopped being important, as the two began moving around, using everything around them either to help themselves or hinder the other. The half-elf soon realized her staff was inconvenient for such a fight and threw it aside.
"How do you expect to fight without a weapon?" Fandral hissed at her. "Or are you just going to give up already?"
"Who says I'm without a weapon?" Meneliel smirked at him, all teeth.
Fandral barely noticed, from the corner of his eyes, the blades flying past him, each on one side of his head. He focused once again just in time to see his opponent raise her hands, catching one dagger on each, twirling them expertly.
"What in the abyss was that?!" Fandral snapped.
"This is me using my abilities." Meneliel informed him calmly. "But don't worry, I won't be using my magic to attack you with a dozen blades without touching them, I could, but I won't. I need not that much of an advantage, and spirits know you would see that as an excuse to swear up and down that my victory somehow doesn't count!"
Fandral snapped his mouth shut, most likely because he was about to say something like that. Instead he threw himself at the brunette again, who jumped up from her crouch, doing a one-handed cartwheel before moving in to attack him.
The spar/battle continued.
Fandral actually managed to give Meneliel a number of cuts, as did she; yet nothing seemed to be enough to slow her down. The blonde could hardly believe it. He was a hardened warrior, had been in countless battles; had pretty much been forced to learn to endure, to be injured and keep moving, keep fighting; because stopping during a fight, even for a fraction of a second, could be lethal. The girl acted the same way he did, yet there was no way she had his experience, it just wasn't possible, she simply wasn't old enough! And she was a girl!
Eventually Fandral played dirty (because he wasn't about to lose). He managed to twist himself out of one of Meneliel's more elaborate moves (she was mixing tai-chi, jujitsu, boxing and her personal favorite, capoeira, because they were all styles the blonde warrior did not know, and the mixes she came up with were quite unpredictable), before throwing her down to the ground (they were nowhere near the mats) hard enough the brunette actually needed a second to take a breath; something the other took advantage of, pining her down with his whole body... in a way that was more than a little inappropriate.
Meneliel reacted instinctively, immediately, trying to shake him off her, but his position gave him the advantage; the bastard knew it, and was enjoying it, by his lascivious smirk.
"What, little princess you don't like it?" He asked her cheerfully, before lowering his voice to a tone he probably believed was seductive. "Or maybe you're just afraid you will!"
"As if!" Meneliel snorted, obviously unimpressed. "If you think what you're doing is turning me on, seducing me or whatever, I'm afraid you're as far from your objective as you are from actually getting a woman to go out with you more than once." She kept talking before he could reply. "In any case, I have a husband, a match, though you probably have no idea what it means. In our case the bottom line is: we belong to each other, and Neither Of Us Shares!"
Fandral was ready to snark at her the moment she shut up even for a second, or he thought he was... until he suddenly found his light armor freezing up and his skin beneath it going too cold in less than two seconds.
"What the...?!" He began cursing her even as he jumped off of her. "What was that?!"
She did not answer, not at first, instead she just stood, silently and fluidly, allowing everyone to see her blue-tinted skin.
"You're a Jotun!" Fandral practically screeched.
"Yeesss..." She drawled. "Did you miss the part where I claimed to be a descendant of Laufey? Or did you think I'm the kind of girl who claims lineages, especially those of beings like that one, just for kicks?"
Fandral didn't fully understand the last sentence, but he got the idea. Truth was, he hadn't been paying that much attention to what the girl was saying at the time; he'd been there to fight, not to listen to elaborate speeches... he hadn't thought any of it to be important... until the three Norns appeared out of thin air in answer to the girl's calls!
"But don't worry," she continued as her skin turned golden again. "I won't defeat you with that skin, it really wouldn't be fair to you..."
Fandral was so furious by her repeated 'reassurances', her mentions of all the ways she could defeat him and didn't, that he began attacking her with wild abandon. No finesse, no planning. It'd been Meneliel's objective all along.
It took several more minutes but eventually Fandral rushed at her hard and fast; the girl was ready for him and used his own momentum to flip him over her hip, making him crash hard on the hard ground; then before he got the chance to fully realize what had happened, she rolled him onto his stomach and knelt on his back, holding one arm down beside him and twisting the other against his back so he couldn't free himself. She might not be quite as strong as him, especially not in her elven form, but she was far more clever.
"What the...?!" He began cursing her again.
"You're done." Meneliel declared satisfied, though without moving an inch.
Fandral cursed yet again but finally stopped struggling.
"Fine, move." He stated.
"No." She refused, something he probably wasn't expecting. "Say it."
"What?" He either didn't know what she meant, or was trying to pretend he didn't.
"I know how formal spars work around here, don't think I don't." She stated seriously. "It's not over until one is unconscious or concedes. You haven't."
"I'm not about to give up against you!" Fandral blurted out in indignation.
"Then I'm not moving." The half-eld said simply. "You're not defeating me Fandral, and I'm not letting you get out of this easily. I'm not letting you go around saying that I didn't really win this spar because I did not follow Aesir rules. So you either surrender right here, right now, or I knock you out, your choice."
"I'll never... surrender to a girl..." Fandral half-gasped.
Meneliel shook her head, half-tired (of his talk, not the fight), half-amused, as she pressed on his back a bit more, making it so his breath became shallow.
"For the last time..." She warned him. "Admit defeat."
"Ne...ver..." He insisted.
Meneliel didn't say a word, instead she simply released one of his arms and used to fingers to jab at the back of his neck with precision. Fandral slumped, allowing the half-elf to swiftly rise from her position without a problem.
At first no one said a word, they all just looked at the unconscious blonde and then the brunette woman in turn as she caught a towel Val threw her way and used it to dry the excess sweat on her skin before wounding it around the back of her neck.
"Is he alright?" Thor asked eventually.
"Just fine." She assured her uncle. "The fool wasn't going to give up and I decided it would be less hurtful, both to his pride and his health if I just knocked him out and ended our misery, rather than wait for the lack of oxygen to make him faint instead."
"What did you do exactly?" Val asked, curious, he'd never seen such a move.
"Pressure points, it's part of a number of martial arts in Midgard." The girl answered with a light shrug before adding, looking at her family. "Natalia taught me."
Phil nodded, it was only to be expected, no one was better at such things than the red-haired Russian (there was a reason Clint, James and even at times Stark joked that she could kill you even just with her thighs...).
Deciding to give just a bit more of a show, Meneliel took a deep breath before waving her hands in the air. No one moved, but everyone could see a dozen blades fly through the air, all but two from the side of the main mat (where she'd left them from the start of the spars), the last two flew at her from the spots where she'd lost them during the most frenzied part of the fight; finally, her staff did the same from the spot where she'd dropped it more-or-less carelessly. As they reached her the weapons spun slowly around her; then, another flick of her wrists and each of them went to the right part of her body, holsters strapping to her body automatically.
"Show-off..." Her brothers muttered good-naturedly.
The boots and tunic too, flew to her, but Meneliel chose not to put them on, she didn't see a point. So instead she held them in her arms as she walked away from the unconscious Fandral and to where her family was waiting.
"Are you alright?" Her match asked, even as he took the boots and tunic from her arms.
"Fine." She assured him calmly. "Right now I just want a bath."
"We've been assigned a room in the royal wing." Phil informed her. "We can bathe, relax a while and then get ready for the feast."
"Sounds like a plan." She agreed.
All the observers parted to let them pass. None of the saying a word to them, though some could be heard whispering about her proficiency as a warrior, and Fandral's own attitude. They were already several hallways away when a little detail finally registered in the half-elf's mind; the witnesses hadn't been calling her 'little princess', no, they'd been calling her 'Warrior Princess'...
xXx
At sunset the feast began. The family entered the huge dinning room in pairs: At the front was Thor, in his formal leather and red silk, escorting his mother: Queen Frigga in a golden dress; close behind them were Loki and Tawariel, the first in his green and dark leather, while Tawariel was in a pale-yellow elven dress; Hela and Azazeal were next, in blue and black respectively; Sleipnir and Jormungandr were in more formal versions of the clothes they'd been wearing when first taking human shape. The biggest surprise was Fenrir, also in a formal version of his previous attire, escorting none other than Sif who, for the occasion, was actually wearing a pale-blue dress. Finally, Meneliel and Phil closed the group, in her lilac elven dress and his charcoal suit.
The Queen very formally presented each of them, their connections, before explaining in a very elaborate and almost poetic manner what had happened that morning in the Valley of Vigrid; everything, including the would-be-Ragnarok, the crimes her husband committed, as well as the Norns' arrival and decisions. It was a pretty tale, it actually sounded so wonderful that the brunette was quite sure she would have trouble believing it to be real if she hadn't been there herself.
What no one saw coming was when one of the guests stood up, only to reveal himself as Lord Arphenion, wishing to congratulate Loki and his family, as well as to offer his blessing to all of them, to his family... Tawariel was beyond shocked.
As it turned out, Lady Frigga had been sneaky. She'd sent a message to Thenidiel, informing the lady of what had taken place in Asgard, and the feast that was to take place that night. Alfheim of course had to send representatives to be aware of everything going on; it was only convenient for Arphenion to offer himself as one of Lady Thenidiel's escorts.
While at first things had been a bit tense, soon everything seemed to ease out. Most Courtiers remembered Lady Tawariel and everything she'd done for Asgard and its people in the last years, she was well-loved; and while just as many people had their doubts about Loki, seeing the way he looked at his wife and at his children, seeing him at peace rather than causing mischief and mayhem at every turn somehow was enough to make most decide to give him a chance. It was an opportunity Loki was honestly thankful for.
Surprisingly enough, there was no trouble coming from the council; most, in fact, hardly said a word through the party, aside from the usual pleasantries at least.
"I think someone informed them of your threats about killing someone." Fenrir quipped with a wolfish (pun intended) grin.
Menel gestured somewhat rudely at him (seeing as he was too far away for her to get violent with him), though Sif empathized with the half-elf and smacked the shape-shifter herself.
"Ouch!" Fenrir moaned exaggeratedly. "What was that for?"
"For antagonizing your sister needlessly." Sif pointed out calmly.
"It hurt..." The man pouted at the warrior-lady.
"Please..." The war godddess drawled cheekily. "As if you haven't had worse than that..."
"Well yes, but it still hurts..." His voice turned coy. "Won't you kiss it better...?"
Sif actually spluttered at the blatant flirting. She'd known the Lokison was interested (hard not to with how he kept looking at her with such intensity...) but she hadn't been expecting him to be so... direct, especially considering how little they knew each other, and hadn't his last lover just died? On the other hand, Halle had left him centuries before, and as far as he was concerned she'd betrayed him; and maybe precisely because he'd already been alone so long he'd decided it was better to take a chance than let it go... So she decided to take the risk to and to hell (no pun intended) with what anyone else thought.
"And if I do that... what will you do for me?" She asked him very quietly, breath on his ear.
Fenrir actually went red at that, Halle had never used that tone on him; suddenly he was as afraid as he was excited regarding where all the flirting might lead them to.
Eventually all the food was consumed and mead began flowing like water in a river. Thankfully the elves had brought wine with them, which Loki, Tawariel, Meneliel, Phil and Hela preferred to mead (and still most of them made sure to be careful how much they drank, as elven wine was as sweet as ice-wine, yet as alcoholic as the strongest human one).
Music started then. Instrumental, fluid, dancing music. What seemed to surprise everyone, was when Loki was the first to stand, take his wife's hand in his and walk to the center of the dance floor... apparently he'd never before been one for such celebrations.
"Never before did I have as much cause for celebration." He would admit when questioned.
Watching those two dancing... for their family it was a confirmation of everything they'd known since the first day they'd known them (whether that'd been a day or almost six years...) for all others it was a revelation, of things that had always been there, yet never seen. The care with which Loki guided Tawariel across the dance-floor, twirled her around, pulled her to him only to move again, never getting in each other's way, never missing a step. It was yet one more proof of how perfect a match they were, how they fit in every way...
"I didn't know Loki could dance like that..." Thor admitted quietly. "Though something tells me I probably should have..."
"We elves enjoy dancing." Vöronwe informed him. "It's in doing things like dancing and singing that we find how compatible we are with others." He shook his head wistfully. "She and I were never that compatible... I'm not that good a dancer."
It was true, and as much as a part of him had hurt at Tawariel's leaving (the fact that she'd rather give everything up than marry him), there was another part of him that had always known they just weren't right for each other. He was serious, ordered, lived for rules and traditions; she was adventurous, an explorer, the kind who wanted to see the universe, to experience everything she could, a free spirit through a through. There was a reason Loki was called Sky-Treader... he could give Tawariel everything she'd dreamt of; and in return she gave him the stability he needed sometimes, she balanced him out. Yes, they were most definitely the perfect match.
Eventually the first song ended. In unison three more couples stood from their places to join Loki and Tawariel in the dancing floor: Phil and Meneliel, Azazeal and Hela, Arphenion and Thenidiel; each wonderful partners too.
By the third song even more couples joined, though there weren't really that many in Asgard that were accustomed to such dances. Still, it was nice.
Eventually the dancing lessened and talking became more common. Elaborate retelling of great battles, quests and the like. Jormungandr in particular took great joy in telling stories about Atlantis; the kingdom of merpeople hidden in the depths of the midgardian oceans, of which Arthur, better known as Aquaman of the Justice League, was King. Jor was well-known by them, had helped them more than once. Still, his favorite story was about the time he'd rescued the two young SHIELD scientists; though, paying attention to him, his focus was actually in their bravery as they set to spy on a recently discovered traitor, were found and forced onto their vessel, only to be thrown off the flying transport and deep into the sea with no escape when they refused to surrender to their enemy. According to Jor, he'd simply 'been in the right place at the right time', gotten the chance to save the two when they needed it most (Jormungandr was really modest like that, got very shy when people began complimenting him... as if he did not know what to do with the compliments...).
"My lady Meneliel..." Hogun called at some point.
She'd gone back to sit down and was in that moment slowly sipping some iced-wine (she'd iced it herself, as she preferred it cold).
"Yes?" She nodded, showing her attention was on him.
"There is one thing that's been... bothering us, my lady." The Warrior admitted. "Regarding your battle against Fandral..."
"Ah..." She nodded, waiting.
She knew who he was, one of the 'Warriors Three', like Fandral. She wondered if he was going to accuse her of using some 'trickery' to defeat his companion. She never really expected what he actually said to her.
"You received a great many cuts during your fight, princess." Hogun explained. "And hardly reacted to them at all... I just found it odd. Were you unaffected?"
It took a second or two, but eventually Meneliel got it. The Warrior did not understand how she'd kept on fighting despite all the wounds... he didn't understand whether because of how young she was, or the fact that she was female...
"They affected me." She answered calmly. "I felt every cut as clearly as anyone would, Warrior Hogun. I'm not invulnerable, or immune to pain, if that's what you're wondering. I do have a high threshold for it, though, it's become a necessity with my life."
"I'm afraid I do not understand." The Warrior admitted.
"I know that for people in realms like Asgard and Alfheim, where you grow to live thousands of years, being 29 is practically a child..." She began.
"Twenty nine?!" Several people explained, realizing she was revealing her actual age.
"Yes." She nodded, dismissing that detail as unimportant. "For me, that's my life up to now, and I've been through a lot in that time. Some things were good, others bad, and more than a few included pain in many ways..." She took a deep breath before revealing. "The most important experiences where it comes to that were two: first, when I was 23 I was kidnapped by a madman and tortured for several hours. I was submitted to cigar-burns, electrocution and light-cuts in his attempt to make me reveal information to him about a man I called family, a man who'd given me his protection, who took me in at a time when I was alone. I was never going to give him up. So I endured, and eventually I was rescued."
"Where was your family at this time?" Vöronwe asked, horrified.
"I would ask you which family, since right now I have a great many people I call family, but I know who it is you speak of." Meneliel smiled sadly at him. "And the answer is that both my parents were imprisoned, here in Asgard, on orders of Odin. The basics you've heard already, when I was in Alfheim, if you wish for more details... you will have to ask it of them, as it's not my story to tell."
Vöronwe nodded in respect and understanding.
"And the second?" Tyr asked, interesting yet almost fearing the answer.
"The second was six months later, actually." Meneliel admitted somewhat grimly. "As has been explained before, I am part of SHIELD, an organization in Midgard devoted to protecting people from dangers most don't even know exist. I'd just joined shortly before. That particular day we were undercover, tracking a package that was to be delivered to a particularly dangerous man. We were betrayed by people who should have had our backs, and because of that most of the team was lost on the way. By the end only Leo and I remained on the train. We couldn't give up, there was no way of knowing if we would ever have another chance at catching that guy... and we both wanted to believe that the team would catch up with us. So we followed the package, and the man, to a villa. Despite the fact that he was just a techie, and I was still a trainee... Once there we activated the tracker so the team would find us, then the we split. Leo got working on disabling the vehicles, so the people inside wouldn't be able to get away again, and I went inside to find the man we were mainly after... and to get the package." She shook her head. "They were expecting us, expecting me... Quinn was waiting for me in the cellar, he disarmed me, made this awful speech about knowing things and winning and lord-knows what else, the man is quite insane... Then he shot me, twice, point blank, in the stomach..."
She didn't notice when she began rubbing the exact spot with a hand, until her match was by her side, his hand above hers.
"You alright?" He asked her quietly.
"Yes." She nodded, but silently urged him to stay while she finished.
"You need not go on..." Hogun began, unsure.
Asgardians loved stories of battle, the adventure, the tension, the blood... but he could see that this particular story was still hard on the young woman. Still, she refused to back down.
"The bastard left me there to bleed out on that cellar, then left." She continued, a bit more sharply than entirely necessary, though no one commented on it. "I blacked out for a little while, but eventually woke up. When I did I knew I had two options: I could stay laying there, where I was and die quietly; or I could fight tooth and nail to live. I've never been a coward, or a quitter. So I pressed one hand against the holes in my stomach, in an attempt to stop the bleeding, though I knew it would never be enough... then I used my other arm to drag myself across the cellar floor and to the door, managed by some miracle to open it and call for help." She shivered. "I was mostly unconscious once again when I vaguely heard someone telling me to hold on..."
No one missed the way Phil flinched.
"I was that person..." His admittance surprised everyone. "Like she and Fitz were planning, we followed the tracker, and were almost too late. When I saw all the blood on that floor... I could hardly believe she was still alive, and I refused to contemplate the possibility of her dying. We did all we could, yet it wasn't enough..."
"Nana found me." The half-elf clarified to everyone's confused faces. "Apparently when I was dying I somehow managed to call for her. Adar had found her and released her from the prison Odin had kept her in for over 23 years just a month before... they immediately went to find me. It was Adar that saved my life, after the midgardian doctors could do nothing more to save me."
"I would have done anything to ensure she was saved..." Phil admitted quietly.
Anything, probably even track down the thing that had been used to save him (which was the very reason the Clairvoyant had ordered her shot, and why they'd faked her death to prevent something like that from happening again, but still).
"Anyway." Meneliel chose to pull their attention back to, what she thought, should be the whole point. "After I managed to endure something like that... believed me when I tell you than minor cuts and scratches in the middle of a spar are nothing..."
They really were. Even if Asgardians couldn't fully comprehend someone having that much battle experience at barely 29 years age... it was the truth; and as hard as it might have been at the time, she wouldn't change it for anything. She loved her life very much, the good and the bad together, it had been the experiences that had made her the person who she was in that moment, after all. That had made her... her.
xXx
The feast was a success. Even then the family spent the next few days going around Asgard, most of the time just sight-seeing, though every so often they would stop to help someone; it was their way of driving the point home, the point of: 'we're not going to destroy the world...'.
While some people were still full of doubt, mostly remembering the stories Odin had made so very public, Tawariel provided a good contrast. She softened him in ways that while not obvious visibly, could still be perceived and helped put people at ease.
At first some Aesir showed unease at Sleipnir, having known him for centuries as a horse and then suddenly seeing him like them... but in the end he was simply too kind and cute for anyone to stay defensive for long around him. Also, he absolutely adored children, and they adored him in turn. It definitely helped that he was strong enough to carry three or four at the same time and swing them around playfully (perfectly safe); the shrieking laughter of the young ones soon set everyone at ease. Some of his siblings thought it was because, deep down, Sleipnir himself never stopped being a kid (or, on the other hand, never before really had a chance at being one), so he felt most comfortable with them.
Also, by that point it seemed like most people in the realm knew what had happened between Meneliel and Fandral in the training grounds; most people gave her respectful nods as she passed, others simply opted to give her a wide berth.
"You know what's absolutely ridiculous?" Loki commented at one point.
"What?" Tawariel asked, brow arched, suspecting her match was aiming for mischief, again...
"So many people around here are absolutely terrified of our daughter!" Loki snorted. "I mean, honestly, they're far more afraid of her than they're of me by this point!"
"And you take offense to that, brother?" Thor inquired.
He probably thought he didn't like people being afraid of his daughter... poor man was trying, but he still didn't fully understand how his brother's mind worked... at least he wasn't giving up.
"Yes!" Loki moaned dramatically. "What about me?! I'm her father!" His smirk turned predatory. "Who do they think she learnt everything from?"
Everyone around them laughed, though they knew it was at least half true... Skye had learnt a lot from people who'd fostered her, or simply whom she'd known growing up, moving around all the time; she'd learnt things good and bad. She knew how to pick-pocket, had scammed for both good and bad reasons (though always bad people, or even just people who had so much money they wouldn't miss it), she could lie with a perfectly straight face, could both give a punch and take it (and more than one), and of course her hacking. All those were things she'd learnt before ever meeting her birth parents... even the motto she lived by 'Per la famiglia, tutto...' she owed it to Papa Toretto, not to Loki. And yet, meeting Loki and Tawariel, knowing her birth family, the story of her past, of how exactly she'd ended up where she was... that had given her a confidence she'd never possessed before. The confidence to be everything she could be, to use everything that had been taught to her throughout the years. It took away the limits she'd put upon herself, believing there was no way she could do it all, be all she wanted... So while Loki may not have taught her 'everything', he still was the one who made it all real, possible...
After a couple of days, long-term plans were being made. For starters the whole family would be traveling to Midgard. There, they were hoping to have a short vacation (at least in the island) before going their separate ways.
Loki and Tawariel had a standing invitation to spend time in Alfheim whenever (as did all of them really, but Tawariel was the one who actually missed the place at times), though mainly they were planning on returning to Asgard and raising the twins there; mostly because they wanted the time it would give them, with the boys growing up as immortals rather than humans... and no one missed the fact that it was the first chance either of them would have to actually raise a child (or, in this case, two), themselves. Everyone knew what had happened with Meneliel; Hela, Fenrir and Jormungandr had been raised mostly by Angrboda; and there was never a chance with Sleipnir at all (curse Odin).
The boys (meaning Jor, Fenrir and Sleipnir) were planning on traveling through the 9 realms (starting with Midgard) to see and explore all they could about each place, hopefully having some adventures in the process; they were going to thoroughly enjoy no longer being imprisoned in any way. Also, Sif had informed them she was going with them, as she wanted to see more of the 9 realms too (especially without having to worry about war); it wasn't like she hadn't traveled with men before, and she was quite sure this group would be more respectful of her than the other one was (she also really wanted to see if the 'thing' there seemed to be starting between her and Fenrir went anywhere... but she was keeping that to herself).
Hela and Azazeal would continue raising Malachi on Midgard, because there was no way they were going anywhere Casarmi couldn't follow (and she was a mortal girl who certainly couldn't follow them to Alfheim or Asgard); and while everyone knew that one day she would have her match, possibly even a family of her own, they were still her family too, and that was the way it was going to stay.
Phil and Meneliel too were going back to Midgard, there was SHIELD and their responsibilities to it, and the Alliance, and their huge family... Maybe a day would come when living on Midgard would no longer be possible for them, either because even the immortals there were no longer enough, or if they simply one day grew tired of the realm, but then they would make the choice. For the time being Midgard, Earth, was their home, the home of their huge, eclectic, slightly-dysfunctional and more-than-a-bit-insane family.
However, before they got a chance to do as planned and just go, a request came for them, from the Council of Elders (they'd actually lost most of their power when Queen Frigga had taken her place as 'Last Queen' of Asgard; but since the realm was big on tradition a few were staying around for the time being).
"Let me see if I understand this correctly." Hela spoke up once the young man-servant finished delivering the intended message. "Those bastards, who just three days ago wanted us dead, now are asking us to go and solve their problems with Jotunheim?!"
The messenger cringed a bit at Hela's vocabulary, and her cold tone, but did not try to correct her, or elaborate further on the message.
"Hey sis!" Meneliel called, taking pity on the man. "Don't shoot the messenger. It's not really his fault the elders are all stupid idiots, too coward to face us with this request."
"True." Hela admitted.
"I was planning on dropping by Jotunheim one of these days anyway." The brunette admitted. "See how things are, that kind of thing. They deserve to know the universe isn't going to end any time soon, same as everyone else, you know?"
"So... you were planning on going to Jotunheim without telling anyone...?" Hela arched a brow at her, obviously not liking the idea.
"Phil probably would have ended coming with me...?" The half-elf offered.
Because really, with everyone knowing the truth there no longer was any need for her to travel secretly, to keep their match on the down-low or whatever; so it was likely that whenever she wanted or needed to travel off-world he would be going with her... and thinking off-world made her wonder about that group both her future-self and the Norns had mentioned, the 'Guardians of the Galaxy'... would they ever meet even if she never became that person? Well, knowing her luck Thanos would be coming after them all eventually anyway... she would have to remember to warn the Queen about that; maybe they could make it so he'd never get more stones that the ones he already had, and find a way to remove his claim from the Mind Gem, just to be safe. It's not like she was the only one capable of fighting him in this timeline; there was her blood family, and others, and she was quite sure she wouldn't be doing any of it alone ever again.
"I'll go." Loki's announcement caught them all by surprise. "Maybe it's time I face this... hopefully I can begin to make amends for my insane attempts to destroy them all..." He smiled self-deprecatingly. "That is, if they don't decide to execute me the moment I set foot on that place..."
"They won't." His youngest daughter assured him. "They understand that the way you were raised makes things hard for you... just give them a chance." She smiled slightly. "Being blue's not that bad, you know?"
She reinforced her words by allowing her skin to gain a blue tint, only slightly, her marks sharp on her skin but no burning; her truest form.
"Will you teach me?" He asked, in a painfully vulnerable voice. "Both of you?"
"It'll be our pleasure, father." Hela assured her with a smile.
xXx
They left Asgard in the morning. Meneliel was once again in her fighting ensemble (because it fit where they were going). Hela had donned a dark red dress that was held around her neck by what looked like a gold necklace, then hung loose down to her knees; her shoulders, arms and most of her back her bare, as were her calves, though she wore strappy golden sandals. Loki was in his lightest green-silk, black-leather ensemble, boots on his feet. While everyone else wore their respective styles, with a couple of thick furs added for good measure.
The moment they landed in the cold, hard ground of Jotunheim (amidst the Bifrost's colorful flashes because Frigga insisted), the two Lokidottir let instinct take over as their skin turned blue, markings appearing all over them. Loki took a few seconds more, but eventually he too let go enough of his control for his skin to switch. It was darker than his daughter's, though there was really no difference in the markings (the coloring or the style).
"They're clan marks..." Meneliel explained the similarity quietly. "That's why they're all the same. It's what gave me away before..."
And it would give them away again... already they could hear (and sense) a number of presences approaching, some faster than others. Automatically the family pulled closer, hands fingering their weapons, ready to defend themselves at a moment's notice.
"Shouldn't we explain we come in peace, or something?" Phil inquired.
"They won't believe it." Loki stated grimly. "Not after what happened the last time..."
In less than a minute the giants were close enough they could hear what most were saying.
"Asgardians!" It was a mix of a cry and a roar. "Butchers! Kill the lot of them!"
As had become usual, Meneliel followed her instincts, acting before she could think twice about it, or before anyone could consider stopping her.
"We're not Aesir!" She called, stepping forward from the circle her family had formed.
Everyone could see her blue skin; a few then began noticing Hela's and Loki's; it still didn't seem to be quite enough.
"Tricks!" Some yelled.
"My name is Meneliel Lokidottir and I wish to speak with Lady Yiresien!" The half-eld called, as authoritatively as she could.
"Her Majesty...?" She thought she heard someone whisper. "How would an outsider know...?"
Voices quieted as to figures walked to the front of the group formed by the Frost Giants. One was tall, blue and dressed in what looked like ancient armor; the other was a lighter blue, wearing what might pass for a dress; Meneliel recognized her instantly.
"Yiresien!" She called brightly.
"So you are, indeed, back." Yiresien nodded.
"It appears things have changed around here." Meneliel commented referring to her new status.
"As have with you..." The Queen replied, considering. "We heard rumors that the golden bells of Ragnarok had tolled..."
"They did." The brunette admitted, not quite sure how to explain everything that had happened, right. "It's kind of a long story..."
"Indeed it must be, it must also be important if you've managed to bring your whole family." The giantess declared. "I remember you telling me that one time we spoke that it was unlikely you would ever be able to get your father to come..."
"Yeah well, things have changed, more than I expected them to." The half-elf shrugged.
"We should sit and talk." Yiresien decided.
No one got the chance to comment on her decision, on either side; as she began talking again, mostly giving instructions, right away:
"This Lord Helblindi, King of Jotunheim, and my mate." She announced. "Mate, this is Meneliel Lokidottir, half-elf and the outsider I mentioned to you before. We should all talk together inside the great halls. Most of her family is not like us and they would benefit of being inside."
"Why should we trust them in our halls?" Helblindi demanded, more of Meneliel than his mate.
The half-elf did not get the chance to answer, suddenly there was a hand on her arm, a blue hand, and then her father was standing by her side, and he was the one speaking; directly at Helblindi, with a strength and conviction she admired but rarely heard of him.
"Because it's been a long time, and we really need to talk... brother." Loki declared.
"Brother..." Helblindi echoed, abruptly realizing who the man before him was. "Follow us then."
The conversation was interesting, to say the least. They didn't end up friends, and Meneliel knew that she mostly called them family because they were (rather than because they felt that way). Truth was that, since Loki had been taken away by Odin before the time of Exposure ended, and what was more, before he could be formally presented to the clan, Loki wasn't recognized by their traditions as a son of Laufey. Everyone knew he was, it was quite clear in the markings on his skin and the ice all over him; but there wasn't much he could have aspired to, had he decided to stay around for a while. Still, the connection was enough to agree to begin peace talks with Asgard, with Loki as the go between.
Another thing the Jotun hadn't the slightest idea what to do about was the bunch of hybrids that were Loki's offspring. Due to the coldness of their skin, and their usual size it was practically impossible for frost giants to mate with anyone outside of their species; yet Loki had, multiple times. From all of them only Hela and Meneliel thus far had shown any frost-giant characteristics or powers; just like the older boys were shape-shifters in ways their sisters weren't... the twins thus far had only shown elven characteristics.
Then there was the next generation. Malachi not only wasn't a frost-giant, he actually had already shown himself to be pyrokinetic (and no one was completely sure if he'd gotten that from Cassie, somehow, or from Azazeal...).
Still, things had gone better than most would have dared to wish for, and there was hope for a better peace treaty between the two realms in the future. Deep down the Jotun had hated Odin more than they'd hated Aesir as a whole; him being gone truly helped. The fact that he was taken down by someone who'd publicly claimed a connection to them was also good.
The fact that when a warrior first mentioned (half-joking) the possibility of sparring with one of them all eyes turned to Meneliel, wasn't quite as good.
"What's wrong with my sister being a warrior?" Fenrir demanded somewhat testily. "She has the right to it, Asgard has taken to calling her Warrior Princess..."
"There's nothing wrong with it, per say." Yiresien tried to explain before the misunderstanding got bigger. "It's just that here in this realm, there's very few of us females. Our numbers are, in fact, so small that males see us as invaluable treasures, too valuable to risk in ventures like battle, especially when it's done just for the sake of it. We all learn to fight to protect ourselves and our own, but we're not meant to go to war. The fact that your sister doesn't only know how to fight, but has gone to war more than once is what's so shocking."
"It's simply a difference in traditions." Meneliel helped her diffuse the situation as much as she could. "Asgard still has somewhat retrograde views on women, for the most part; Midgard on the other hand. In the last century there were movements pushing for gender equality all around the world, and while there are parts where women are still seen as less than men, for the most part that's changed. I was raised in a realm where women have as many rights as men. So I've become used to that, to tell you the truth."
"And did you choose to be a warrior too?" Helblindi asked, intrigued.
"Yes." She nodded. "It wasn't a decision made in a spur of the moment, but over the time. At first I was the kind to help from the shadows. I would recover information the government insisted on keeping secret, and gave it to the public, thought I was helping everyone; and while I probably did sometimes, I later learnt some secrets are too dangerous to be out in the open." She shook her head at her own naivete. "Phil was the one who recruited me, six years ago. He showed me why some times what I did was wrong, then offered me a place on his team... he told me I would have 'front row center for the strangest show on earth'... of course, he never told me there was a chance the 'front-row-center' would one day turn into 'center-stage'!" She chuckled. "But that was alright too. I do not regret it; never have, never will. I never really planned on becoming a warrior, but I believe I did it for good reasons in the end, and being one has allowed me to help people in ways I couldn't have, otherwise."
Everyone nodded, unable to disagree with her. The Jotun might find the idea of a treasure female putting herself at risk, fighting wars, horrifying; but they recognized that she wasn't one of their tribe, they couldn't force her. And even if Loki had been recognized as a Laufeyson, and his offspring could be recognized in turn, she was mated, therefore already paired with another (who still would never made decisions for her, but still).
xXx
After spending one more night in Asgard, where they returned after the relatively short visit to Jotunheim, the group was finally ready for the trip to Midgard.
At one point the Elders had raised concerns regarding Hela's absence from Helheim; to which she calmly pointed out that aside from attempts at invasion from Muspelheim (something that hadn't happened since the last time Loki had vanquished their armies), and events like the Convergence (where all realms were a mess, not just that one), she wasn't really needed there. She could go every so often to make sure everything remained the way it was supposed to, but there was no need for her to be there all the time. Queen Frigga had agreed.
Thor and Sif left with them (once again using the Bifrost). They landed in an open space on the beach of the Playground. To their surprise, there were quite a number of people there waiting for them (mostly Skye's family).
"Didn't you send a message that everything was alright and no one needed to worry about the end of the world anymore?" The half-elf asked her sister, half-confused, half-amused.
"So now the world needs to end for you to see us?" Josef called loudly, pouting.
"Josef, if you want to see me, you can very well come looking for me." She deadpanned.
"Exactly why I'm here, Karin, my dear!" The Master vampire called very dramatically.
"Princess!" The Koenig twins called brightly from one side at the same time.
Meneliel smiled at them, waving a hand to allow her elven dress (which she'd donned again once back on Asgard) to vanish, leaving her instead in tight dark-washed jeans, a loose royal blue top and her favorite black-leather jacket and boots. Then she pulled her hair free of the bun, letting it fall down around her shoulders and to the middle of her back in loose waves (her match's favorite style on her); the last thing to go was her tiara, though that too vanished, leaving her Konstantin earring, elven pendant and wedding rings as her only jewelry (and with the tattoos on her wrist she never wore bracelets or watches, so as not to cover them up).
"I'm not a princess anymore Billy, Eric." She informed them sweetly.
"To us you've always been a princess, princess." Eric told her with a bright smile. "Even before we knew you were one in other worlds."
The brunette just couldn't help herself, she hugged the man tightly, placing a kiss on his cheek. He was so cute! At first she'd thought that the whole start-struck looks he directed at her were because she'd saved his life in Providence, but it soon became clear that it was about more than that. He loved her... he wasn't in-love with her, she was like his sister, his protector, hero, all wrapped up in one. And while sometimes it felt like a hard act to live up to... the man had never asked for anything from her, he just admired her.
"So, are we having a party or what?" Tony called loudly.
And have a party they did.
It lasted well into the night, and as shocking as it was that they managed to get enough food and drink for everyone (it got interesting when some people began revealing all kind of alcohol... even Tony was shocked when he saw one of the oldest bottles Josef had been saving).
However, the part a few focused on most was the way a nine-year-old boy flew around, closely followed by a tall man with the same ability, a man with angel wings and birds that looked to be made of ink... and no one batted an eyelash. The same could be said of the boy with gills on the sides of his neck and webbed hands and feet who was laughing like crazy as he did his best to swim circles around his (more-normal-looking) friends and Jor in sea-serpent form. And all the other children who were either metas or mutants, visible or not, baselines, witches, and aliens, all partying together like it was the most normal thing in the world... and for them it was!
"I like this world..." Loki commented, watching everything from high on a cliff.
"It is quite an interesting place." Tawariel agreed. "So different from Asgard and Alfheim both."
"Are you sure you want to raise the twins on Asgard?" he asked his match.
"Yes." There was no doubt in her. "This place is beautiful but, it's still not the world I'm truly used to and... it might sound selfish of me, but I just want to keep them longer, you know?"
"I know." He nodded. "I too want as much time as I can get with them, and allow the two to be kids for as long as they can, as long as they want. Menel never got that chance, just like we didn't... I want to do it right for Vali and Narvi..."
"We did right by Menel, I think." His beloved replied softly. "This might not be the life we once imagined for her but... it's a good life, and she loves it. And she has someone to share it with. I think that's what matters."
"True." Loki agreed, pulling his wife to him, kissing her tenderly. "You know I love you, right?"
"I know..." She replied just as softly, against his lips. "Amin mella le... oiala..."
"Forever..." He echoed the sentiment.
They welcomed the sunrise from that spot, welcoming their own new beginning, the start to a new life, a future they'd always wished for yet never imagined truly getting. It was all their dreams come true... it was perfect.
First of all. No, this not over, not just yet. We have one more chapter to go. An epilogue of sorts (though I'm not calling it that, since I never called any chapter 'Prologue'). Though I hope you'll like it, it's where we'll finally have our heroine figure 'who she really is', like I've been promising from the start. Like I said from the beginning, every chapter is dedicated to one aspect of her, we're missing just one more... some probably can guess it right now, though to those who cannot see it... maybe it's just too obvious. Doesn't matter, the finale is coming, next week!
To add a few people to my cast, you have my choices for the Norns:
Skuld - Karen Gillan, there are some pictures where she looks so young, yet not fully a girl, with bright red hair... just imagine it being shorter.
Verdandi - Grace Holley. I chose her because she looks young, yet there are some pictures where she looks a bit older (though not old). One in particular shows her with her hair in a small plait, like a diadem, it's the look I had in mind.
Urd - Annette O'Toole. She's perfect for this one, especially the way she looked in the ninth season of Smallville, with her hair going gray yet she still looking strong...
Another thing, some back-history on a couple of characters, things I never got the chance to include in the story but thought to mention here because they're still in my head and I decided you should know: In my head Azazeal was once a Roman soldier, a centurion possibly, he died in battle and went to Valhalla. There was something so traumatic about his death (either his or all that happened right before it) that he doesn't remember anything of his mortal life, not even his name. Valerius was like him, recognized the signs in Azazeal, but never said anything, knowing there must be a reason why the other couldn't remember; he's the only one. It's also why there's that odd connection between the two.
It's all ending in a week! Finally! The finale is coming (to the fic and the series). Don't miss it. And please, please comment on this: what you liked, what you didn't, what you think I missed. The last chapter is pretty much done already, but if enough people ask I might still be able to add something before next Friday. Please review! I wanna know what you think of this craziness I've been writing!
See you next week for the finale!