Chapter 3
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I remain an unpaid adoring fangirl.
It wasn't Loki on the throne when they entered, though Sif had half-expected it would be. Odin seemed almost surprised to see them. Tyr and his men saluted smartly and pushed the prisoners forward, though the king did not bother to acknowledge his general. Sif and the warriors smiled. Here, they could play Tyr's game, too. They marched forward together, ignoring their chains, and knelt formally at the foot of the dais. "All-Father." acknowledged Fandral, for all the worlds as if they were heroes marching in triumph at the head of their own troops, rather than dishevelled accused criminals awaiting judgement and sentence.
All-Father appeared to appreciate the joke. His smile was grim - could any expression on that face be otherwise? - but it was certainly a smile. "My sons' friends," he began, "Thor has chosen exile. Will you do the same? I offer you another choice: claim loyalty to me. I have need of good and obedient warriors. My Einhejar are excellent soldiers for defence of the realm and for war, but there are other duties to which they are not suited."
Looking back, Sif felt she should have been on her guard when she heard that. Instead, she had been relieved to think they would not be exiled or simply executed. She had no desire to be apart from Thor, but to see him every day with that mortal would pall rapidly - even if she could watch Jane of Midgard age minute by minute. And Niffleheim, she was certain, held no charms.
Without hesitation, the five warriors had clashed armoured fists to their breasts. "My King!"
A warrior's oath was no different from a king's - what changed was the pronouncement of the one who received the oath. The All-Father began the litany: "Fandral, Volstagg, Heimdahl, Sif: do you swear to guard the Nine Realms?"
"We swear."
"Do you swear to preserve the peace?"
"We swear."
"Do you swear to cast aside all selfish ambition and to pledge yourselves only to the good of the Realms?"
"We swear."
"Then on this day I, All-Father, do pronounce you King's Warriors once more." Sif was almost certain she heard a sneer creep in, and it was odd that All-Father did not name himself. For some reason she could not fathom, she had Loki on her mind.
The warriors stood, their honour returned to them. At a look from Tyr, guards came forward and - slightly shamefacedly - removed the chains. All-Father considered his newest and, though they did not know it yet, his only sworn servants. "Heimdall, I have need of a Gatekeeper. Will you obey me? Will you return to your post?"
"At your command, my King."
"Go." Bowing, he did so. Odin smiled. "Fandral, I would have you go to Vanaheim, and fetch the fourth of your company - he has committed no treason against me this time, so I do not command him, yet if he is willing to come, The Warriors Three shall fight together."
"At once, my King." He followed Heimdall towards the Bifrost as All-Father considered the remaining warriors. "I will have a task for you when your companions return. For now, rejoin your families and your friends, and … wait for my word." Fists on breastplates, Sif and Volstagg acknowledged their king's command and departed. Odin watched them go.
"Was that wise, my King?" ventured Tyr, "They have betrayed you once already."
"Twice. But they will not survive a third time."
Hogan had not forsaken them. He never had, no matter how foolish the escapade planned. 'The Warriors Three fight together' and all that. Perhaps he regretted it when he heard the All-Father's desire.
"The Aether cannot be destroyed - it will have remained on Svartalfheim though Malakeith is no more. Fetch it for me."
"It shall be done." Volstagg and Fandral had made to retreat.
"All-Father, we know and are sorry for your loss. Would you have us retrieve your son, also?" Sif had asked. Whatever she thought of him personally, Loki had been a prince, the brother of Thor and a son of Odin. He had died a warrior's death - much to Sif's surprise - and he deserved better than to lie unremarked among his enemies. "No!" Odin's raised voice was as unexpected as it was frightening. "Loki chose his own path. Let him lie where he fell." His tone was both fierce and bitter, and he waved his warriors away without another word. This was not the Odin she remembered. The Odin who had mourned when his son was lost from the destroyed Bifrost; who mourned Thor's exile, Loki's imprisonment and Frigga's death. His grief had been silent, true, but he had certainly mourned. Perhaps even the All-Father had a limit to the sorrows he could bear.
Svartalfheim was every bit as lifeless and unlovely as they would have imagined. Sif kept a hand on her blades, though her every sense - and those of her companions - assured her there could be no life, no threat here. It was that which kept her nerves strained for there had been danger here not so long ago, and death - glorious and otherwise. The ages-old deaths were present as well, and the poison in every breath reminded them that they could not linger.
So this was the task to which the Einhejar were not suited. It suited Sif ill, as well.
Heimdahl had directed their landing point as close as he safely could to the final resting place of Malakeith of Svartalfheim. The graveyard of Arks and Harrows made for weary navigation, but eventually they located that which they sought and retrieved it as instructed.
Sif had kept her eyes open for that which they had not sought as well, but the windstorms natural to Svartalfheim had destroyed any hope of tracking the princes' progress. The crossings between Realms at the height of the Convergence had left debris that may never be cleared from the uninhabited lands and which changed any landmark that might have guided her from the reports they had heard in the dungeons. Even Heimdahl had not been able to provide her with any direction before they left Asgard, though he had promised to say nothing on the matter of her asking for such to Odin, which was some comfort.
Sif would have been more comforted to have found the body, even if they were not to return it home.
"I present to you Tanileer Tivan, The Collector." Sif eyed the pink creature cautiously. Her master was even stranger. "Oooh. Asgardians. It is an honour." The Collector bowed ostentatiously to the All-Father's representatives. He made Sif uncomfortable. The whole duty made Sif uncomfortable, but perhaps that was what the All-Father intended. He had warned them the Collector may try to collect them. She had thought they'd gotten off too lightly for their treasonous actions, even if it had turned out for the best.
"You know why we're here."
"Of course. But if I may ask, why not keep it secure in your own vault?" Sif wasn't sure of the answer to that question. It had puzzled her why the All-Father's first thought when presented with the recovered Aether was neither to keep it in the Weapons Vault - after all, there were a lot of dangerous artefacts down there, what was one more? - nor to hide it as his father had done; but rather to hand it on to a somewhat-dubious Being with nothing more to recommend him than a reputation for taking on the weird and wonderful.
Volstagg supplied the answer All-Father himself had given them - in rather too much detail for Sif's comfort. "The Tesseract is already on Asgard. It's unwise to keep two Infinity Stones so close together." Sif felt it was probably unwise to advertise the presence of any Infinity Stones anywhere. Then again she relished a good fight, so if the Collector sent anyone to collect the Tesseract, she'd be happy to stand in the way.
"That's very wise. I can assure you it will remain perfectly safe, here in my Collection." He held the warded container to his chest as if it were a treasured possession, rather than a dangerous and likely indestructible force. Sif felt obligated to bring home the importance of the issue. She fingered her blade. "See that it is."
As they turned away, anxious to be out of the strange being's disturbing presence, Sif wondered what could have caused the vague blue reflection to spring up in his eyes.
The All-Father seemed to find never-ending list of tiresome, 'important' but generally thankless chores for his sworn warriors. Tidying up the Nine Realms began to feel like all the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif had ever done. It had been rather more fun when Thor was with them. Heimdahl seemed to be the only one who got off lightly - but since every time there was nothing immediately for them to do, Odin sent one of the Four to him with another, apparently random, corner of the universe to scrutinise and report on in detail, perhaps it was not so.
Sif had been called alone before the golden throne. She knelt and awaited her lord's command. "I summoned you because the sorceress Lorelai, who escaped when the Dark Elves attacked, has been located. Go to Earth and retrieve her. Avoid shedding mortal blood if you can. I trust you understand me sending you alone."
"Of course, All-Father."
"You may find - even with the collar - that calling upon my son would be unwise, though you may find his human companions of some - ah - assistance." Sif nodded mutely. Her heart had leapt at the thought of Midgard, of Thor, but she had lost too much to Lorelai already. If it were up to her, that poisonous witch would return to Asgard just long enough to grace a burning barge. All-Father seemed to know her mind. "Whole and alive mark you, though I do not ask undamaged."
Not undamaged, hmm? She could work with that.
Author's note: I hate the phrase 'claim loyalty' - it suggests falseness to my ears, as in 'I claim to be loyal' rather than 'I am loyal' - and would much rather 'pledge loyalty' or even 'swear fealty', but Loki once asked that we 'claim loyalty' to him, so I stuck with it.
I'm also sorry this has taken so long for me to put up. Chalk up to me whichever of the usual excuses is your current favourite. And expect to do it again. The next bit is misbehaving.
