THREE

The More The Merrier

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Amora cast her long fair hair over her shoulder and sat back from the dirty, sooted table between her and Loki. "Now I have eaten the disgusting scraps which I suspect were the finest you had, you will tell me the adventures I have missed," she commanded.

Loki took a deep breath, but all he could do was let it out slowly. He folded his arms across his chest and studied her. "How was prison?"

"Hel on Asgard," she grumped.

"I can relate."

"Oh can you?" she demanded. "Somehow I doubt that, son of Odin The Perfect."

"Can I stop you there," he interrupted irritably, one hand up. "One thing you missed was everyone finding out that I'm not actually a son of Odin."

She frowned. "So why am I listening to you if you're in line to the throne?"

"I am. Just not that one," he said. "Son of Laufey and Fárbauti, thank you."

"What?" she managed. She paused. "I… But Odin would not have admitted to adopting you."

"Not adopted," he said stiffly. "Taken as one of the spoils of war. Except how he tells it, he was rescuing me."

Amora nodded, letting that go through her head. "So… your real parents. How did you get their names?"

"I asked around. It's amazing what people will tell you when you're blue."

"But Laufey was…" She paused, mulling something over. "Laufey was a frost giantess - a half-goddess, I heard. She was… honourable. I don't know this Fárbauti."

"A bit of cad, or so I'm told."

"Ah. I should not have expected anything else," she said with a warm smile. "Where's your br—. Where's Thor the dumb blonde these days?"

"Got a haircut, lost an eye, grew a conscience, became king when Odin died," he supplied. "And he's not as dumb as he looks."

"Odin is dead?" she asked quietly.

"I saw him leave."

She looked around the ruined room. "That's… not the news I craved."

"What did you crave, imprisoned for all that time?"

"Hela - that she would come for me and we'd finally take Asgard together."

"Uh… about that," he said delicately.

Amora rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me she is also dead."

"That's how you were floating about, freed of your prison. Ragnarok happened. Half of Asgard escaped - on this ship."

"Ragnarok!" she blurted. "And I was chained to the walls like an animal! I could have helped, Loki."

"As it turns out, it was a good thing. She was going to destroy Asgard - so Surtur destroyed her with it," he shrugged. "But we still have half the planet here."

"Only half?" she gasped. "You imbecile! You should have saved them all! Who are we to rule now?"

Loki managed to bite his lip against the words dying to get out. He cleared his throat quietly and felt the annoyance go down with it. "Listen carefully. We rescued everyone from Asgard save Hela, whom I presume died as the place was obliterated. As we were fleeing to Midgard, Thanos attacked and wiped out exactly half of all of us."

"Thanos?" she said in disgust. "That wizened old grape needs a sharp stick up his—"

"He certainly does," Loki said coldly. "But here's the thing - he took an Infinity Stone from us. Now he has two. He's powerful, he's focused, and he does not intend to stop until he has command of all of them."

"Ah, I see," she mused. She smiled, then ran her hands through her magnificent hair, scraping it from her face and into a rough pony tail. She let it go and it tumbled down her back and over her dirty, abused prison greys. "You want to use me to get a stone from Thanos - and as he will not give it up willingly, I may have to kill him."

"You always were one of the smarter Asgardians," he smiled.

"Only compared to you."

"Thank you."

"No."

His face dropped. "What? No?"

"No. I shall not be your weapon to swing at a would-be god, Loki not-Odinson. Kill him yourself."

"You can keep it when he's dead."

Her mouth opened; it stalled. She flicked her gaze around the room, observing yet again the destruction and hard times her people had fallen upon. "You lie."

"Have you ever known me to lie?" he asked.

"Ye—." She stopped short. "Actually? No. Not to me. You may have been economical with the truth, or only given a slanted view from your perspective, but… not outright lied, no."

"Once Thanos is dead, I don't care what happens to the other Infinity Stones," he said. He leant forward, his elbows on the table between them. "Make no mistake, Amora - he will die. And you will kill him. And then yes, you will get to keep the stone."

"You wouldn't leave me with such a powerful artefact," she said flatly.

"I swear, on Frigga's soul, I shall not try to separate you from the stone."

"Frigga, eh? Must be serious," she smiled. "How is the old battle-axe? Still training the royal guard how to fight dirty?" She paused as Loki looked away, to his right. His face took on a frustrated sheen, as if his eyes were trying to read print on a screen just out of reach. "Loki?"

He looked at the floor, then across the table at her with piercing eyes. "She died," he said quietly.

Amora frowned. She leant forward to rest her elbows on the table, fixing Loki with a stern glare. "You… have lost… everything? Your birth mother, your father, Odin and Frigga, your brother, your adoptive lands and your right to the Asgardian throne - and possibly to that of Jotunheim, too?"

He did not meet her gaze. "It's been a hard few years." He watched his hands tangle wretchedly in his lap. "But in a strange way, Thor is… better now. He no longer seeks to control me as a brother, only the trouble he mistakenly thinks I cause."

"Touching," she said, surprised. "And when I have trounced Thanos and taken the stones? Do we get one each and go our separate ways?"

"I was hoping you'd say that," he smiled.

"Truly - why do you wish him dead? I have rarely seen such revenge in your eyes."

He sat back and let his arms fold again. His jaw slid to one side for a moment before he composed himself. "He thinks a few stones makes him, a mud-sucking barely-evolved simian, a god. That jumped-up, tiny-minded excuse for a second-rate poor man's villain thinks he's thought of everything, planned for everything, made provisions for everything." He sat up, pointing at her with lethal intent. "Wait until he meets you. Wait until he has the full fury of a seething, vengeful Hel-cat on his back with the entire might of Asgard in her hands of magic. Let him feel that and wish he hadn't been born! Let him feel that and realise how much he's misjudged the universe! Who does he think he is, to try to mould the universe the way he wants it? Who does he think he is, to think he can grind Asgardians under and just take what he wants? How dare he?"

A slow, indulgent smile spread across her face as he calmed his ire and made himself sit back. She shook her head and began to grin. "I understand."

He lifted his chin slightly. "So you'll do it?"

"I will. But not alone."

"If you want me to—"

"Not you, Loki. You are cunning in a fight, but you are a scalpel, not a club." She let her head tilt as thoughts ran through it. "No. I need… people. We must round them up first."

"We're struggling to eat and make it anywhere as it is," he said.

"Then I will call for help - I know at least one who will come to us."

"How?"

She smiled. "If she hears me, she will come, trust me on that."

His eyes narrowed. "Who?"

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Valkyrie watched, her eyes slits of suspicion, as the taller woman walked through the makeshift kitchen area with the grace of someone used to checking the corners for dangers. "So you're free, then."

Amora turned and glared at her. "Do I know you?"

"No."

"Should I?"

"Definitely not."

"And yet…" Amora paused, her gaze gliding over her. "You smell like… a valkyrie."

"Watch it."

"I meant no disrespect," Amora said in surprise. "I only mean that… you smell of duty and sworn allegiance, of protection and honour, glorious combat for the noblest of reasons."

"Oh," Valkyrie managed. "I thought you were going to say a bottle of whisky."

"Do you have a name, Honoured One?"

"I—." She stopped short. "I… don't. Not any more. I'm just Valkyrie."

"Then, Valkyrie, I thank you for your years of service to Asgard. You have fought for our freedom, kept the children safe in their beds, and taken the rightful souls to Valhalla. All of Asgard should revere you, instead of treat you like foot soldiers because Odin says so."

"Uh… thanks?" she hazarded.

Amora waved a hand. "Did you believe the oaths Odin spoke about me whilst I was imprisoned?"

"Uh… yeah."

"But you above all should know how much of his spin you can believe."

Valkyrie let her mouth flounder. Then she shrugged. "You have a point."

"I am putting together a team," she announced. "I would be honoured, Valkyrie, if you would join me in glorious battle."

She laughed, oblivious of Amora's stare of concern. "You want me to fight Thanos with you, right?" Valkyrie managed. "No way. Thanks and everything - but no thanks."

Amora took a step toward her. She tilted her head and eyed the shorter woman with such intent that Valkyrie was rooted to the spot. Amora's large brown eyes stared, so earnest, so sincere. "You will not be alone, nor used as bait. You will fight as you have been trained, and wreak bloody vengeance on a tyrant who has destroyed half of Asgard and dares to presume he can rule the left-overs, as if we are so much space-trash. We were here long before he was, we were the ruling realm, and once he is dead and Asgard can rebuild, we shall see what will come of its ashes, because of the leaders of women and men that brought it through this dark time." She paused and stood tall. "Are you with me?"

Valkyrie felt something in her throat. She swallowed with difficulty before realising she was already nodding. "Yeah. You bet I am. Point me in his direction and let me go."

"Not on your own, sister. We will do battle together - and he shall rue the day he had the audacity to cross Asgard."

Valkyrie grinned, knowing hot tears of pride were prickling in her eyes for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. "Hel yeah!"

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Loki stood by the large cargo door, peering through the tiny window beside it into space. "I don't see anything."

"She is coming," Amora announced. She closed her eyes and lifted her hands, palm up.

Asgardians and freed slaves alike watched from the catwalks, confused, hungry, bored.

Until Loki straightened from the window rather abruptly. "I don't believe it," he said under his breath. He tore his eyes from the vision of death and destruction outside the window and looked up to the Kronan by the switch to the forcefields. "Get ready!"

Korg nodded and put his hand to the buttons. He leant forward to watch. Loki waved a hand and Korg pressed.

The forcefield rammed down to protect everyone on the catwalks and behind. Loki grabbed the side of the doorframe but Amora did not move. She simply waited, her eyes closed, her hands out, her hair rising in the sudden lack of atmosphere as the door began to open.

A massive clang echoed round the cargo hold as something very heavy collided with the surface. It ducked under the door and clomp clomp clomped its way toward Amora.

Loki's mouth hung open for a long second. Then he waved frantically at Korg.

He was far too busy staring at the new arrival - until Valkyrie elbowed him in the mineral deposits and he pressed the right buttons to begin closing the door to open space.

It whomped shut and the forcefields were released. Loki turned, smoothed his hair and his clothes, and cleared his throat.

In the middle of the cargo hold, just a few feet away from Amora, was a tall, imposing woman made of muscle, sinew, and arse-kickery. Her bright silver chainmail snaked from her neck down to the fur boot on each foot. A gold and green tabard of silk hung over the top, lashed into place by a wide, polished leather belt of dark brown. A rather heavy-looking broadsword was in a very used leather sheath on her back, two large sais securely fastened in hip and knee holsters on each leg. Her hands went up slowly and she removed a shiny silver helmet, allowing it to thread her long blonde hair through the three special cuts in the sides. She squared it under her right elbow and looked at Amora.

"You," she said flatly. "I thought it was royalty who summoned me."

Amora looked back at the tall, green-eyed warrior. "He did."

The woman frowned; she turned and spotted a man by the door. "You? By Odin's beard - why aren't you dead? —Or a horse?"

Loki grinned nervously. "Angela!" he cried, with all the sincerest gladness he could muster. "It's been so long! You look like you could kill several hundred opponents on the battlefield with your bare hands and still have the energy to gut a few pickpockets on the way home." He threw his hands wide. "Look, Asgardians!" he called. "It's Angela, come to fight for us again!"

There was a stunned silence. And then someone clapped. That was all it took. People began to make noise; cheering, whistling, clapping, stomping of feet.

Angela put a hand up. "Prince Loki Odinson - what is this?" she asked irritably.

"He is not of Odin," Amora said.

"What say you?" Angela demanded.

Loki closed on them hurriedly. "Maybe we should talk about this later."

"Maybe you should die for the havoc you have wrought upon the nine realms!" Angela roared. She stepped back and grabbed a sai from her left side. It was flipped to protect her forearm as she turned on him.

Loki put both hands up. "Now now - there's no need for that," he said hastily. "Not when what is left of Asgard is watching us because they are desperate for hope only you can give them."

Angela paused. She looked at Amora. The woman still standing in prison garb nodded.

"Put that away, Angela, and let's catch you up, shall we?" Loki said with a disarming smile. "Hmm? What do you say?"

Angela looked up and around the people on the upper catwalks. Then she looked back at Loki. "You are not a son of Odin?"

"No. But I am the rightful king of Jotunheim."

"Jotunheim," she said, and if distaste had been a colour she would have had enough to repaint the entire ship. "Such an icicle-bearing Hel-hole. Who would rule there?"

"The son of Laufey," he said pointedly.

Angela looked at Amora. She nodded again. Angela appraised Loki for a long moment. "Fine. But you're not my king."

"Ok obviously you think you know better than me and you want answers, so let me catch you up right here even though I know the full story and I also know it's not a good idea, but hey, what would I know, I only saved half of Asgard from a mad Titan with two Infinity Stones," he snapped.

Angela took a deep breath before blowing it out and planting the sai firmly back in its holster. "My apologies, Laufeyjarson," she said slowly. "It seems I spoke out of turn."

"You just—. What?" he blinked. "What did you call me?"

"Laufeyjarson. You are the son of Laufey, you said. She was… a formidable warrior and one Hel of a drinker. She was… honourable."

"I—. Oh," Loki managed. "Well… ok then. —Wait, I've never heard '-jarson' before, just '-son'."

"That's because Odin was old-fashioned," Angela sniffed. She ran a hand through her hair. "Can we drink now?"

Loki's mouth flapped and then he shrugged, clearly out of options. "Why not."

"Before we do, you must know why we called you here," Amora said.

"Tell me," she allowed, folding her arms.

"A glorious battle, my sister. You, me, and a Valkyrie."

"A Valkyrie?" Angela gasped, her eyes widening. "This sounds like something I want to be a part of. Tell me, and make it clear - against whom do we do battle? What are the stakes?"

"Everything," Loki said. "Life, the universe - everything. And all you have to do to win is kill Thanos."

"Thanos!" Angela hissed. "That viper - that life-leaching scum-sucking grub! We shall kill him and bathe in his blood!"

Loki's face spread into a wide, smug smile. "Lovely."

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Yeah, so I went with the Prose Edda Laufey and not the sudden gender-flip of Laufey in the movies. And I'm not even sorry.