A/N: ... I'm not dead. Just in case you were wondering. I was ill way too much, though, and I found a new ship in the HP fandom, which-bad idea.

A huge thanks to my beta and anyone who reviewed or left kudos or stuck around this long.

(I listened to a whole lot of Two Steps from Hell music while writing this, so if somebody wants to give it a try...)

Summary: A little bit of red, a little bit of blue.

Chapter XIII—Not Well Enough

Defend (verb): resist and attack on someone or something; protect from harm or danger.

Although it couldn't be further from the truth, the world around him appeared to stand still. Slow breaths moved his ribcage under layers of leather and metal, and he could feel his heart straining against the confines of his chest. His muscles had locked into place a while ago when the waiting had begun. Even his hair lay on his shoulders unmoving in the absence of the wind; he'd considered tying it up but only pushed it away from his face with a practiced, magic-enhanced gesture.

The only part of him that moved were his eyes, combing the skies for disturbance. He should be able to see through the glamour that hid elven ships, as should some other mages and Heimdall. It would be up to them to direct the gunners. Luckily both the glamour and the ships appeared to be easy enough to take down. It would still be Asgard's priority to force the enemy to the ground and keep the palace safe. The energy shield around Asgard's centre may have been repaired, but it lacked its former strength.

Loki, of course, had different plans. Find an opportunity and use it. Raise hell. Hopefully Fandral, Gna, and the five soldiers they'd chosen wouldn't bail. It would be just his luck.

For now, all he could do was wait for dawn and hope the intel the Dark Elf had spilled was correct. It should have been. Norns knew Loki had revealed enough to the Chitauri, and they'd used it against him and unmade him again and again.

A shudder ran through him.

He longed for the comfort of Tony's presence at the same time as he was grateful for his absence. The memory of their last conversation stung. Tony hadn't said no, not explicitly, yet it had felt like refusal, and Loki should know—it was one of his oldest friends. There could be no reasoning: If Tony didn't wish to prolong his life, not even a little, Loki couldn't force him. He'd been surrounded by people who didn't want to be in his presence all his life, and he wouldn't be able to bear seeing Tony turn into one of them. It was better that he should die than foster resentment.

Swallowing, he pressed his lips together. To have somebody after so long, and to lose them in perhaps thirty years…

He couldn't let him go like this.

But he had to. He had to. Otherwise, there was no way Tony would consider staying.

His gaze swept the horizon. A glimmer caught his eye, and he turned his attention to it. Sure enough a ship appeared in the pre-dawn dusk.

He turned to Fandral. "Send the messenger to Thor. They're here."

~*oO*o*Oo*~

Tony awoke fully rested and refreshed—but angry. For a moment, he didn't even know who the anger was aimed at. Then he remembered fingers coming towards him and he bolted uprights only to find himself face to face with Hlin.

"You're awake," she said. "Good. We need to leave."

"Did you two knock me out cold with magic? What the fuck?"

"You're going to war. You had to sleep."

Hlin grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet; no easy task what with the extra weight of his suit.

"I've been put to bed in much nicer ways." He hadn't even been in bed, merely lying on the floor. Ugh. Across the room, Idun was helping Jane get up.

"This is war." Hlin thrust a metal box into his hands. "So let's make sure you can get back to those nicer ways sometime."

With that she was off to exchange words with Idun. Tony peeked into the box and found it full of food. He wasn't sure he could eat any of it, but at least it was a nice gesture.

They were back at the boat not ten minutes later. Tony found a spot at the bottom, leaning against the side. Jane sat down across from him.

"Here," he said and offered her the box. "Eat something."

"You should, too," Hlin said from the rudder. The boat lifted off the ground and soared up above the forest. Now that darkness had passed, Idun's tree became visible, rising into the sky higher than Tony could follow it with his gaze.

"I'm not hungry."

Hlin's mouth opened, but no sound came out. Not even her lips moved enough for anyone to be able to read them. Scowling, she pressed them together, then tried again.

"I didn't see anyone dead," she said. "Norns, this is infuriating. If I could only—Damn." She shook her head.

"Close enough to death then."

"I'm doing what I can. Jane? I will bring you into the palace, but until we get there, you can help us fight the war if you wish."

The scientist lowered her hand. A piece of bread was squeezed between her fingers. Her brow furrowed. "How? I'm neither a warrior nor a healer."

Hlin cocked her head. "I can teach you to fly the glider. You'll be my pilot."

Jane didn't reply right away. Her gaze settled on her hands as if she suddenly doubted their ability to do anything. Thor would throw a temper tantrum the likes of which even Loki couldn't reach if she died, but she was smart. She could figure it out.

"Teach me." She put the piece of bread in her mouth and pushed the box over to Tony. "We'll make sure you and Loki are all right."

"Thanks," he managed to mutter past the knot in his throat and took a piece of cheese out of the box.

~*oO*o*Oo*~

It turned out he couldn't wait nearly as long as he'd planned. His body itched to move (fight kill slay—) and he started pacing, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He could change the course of the battle if he interfered. Unfortunately, it would reduce his energy reserves, and he still had need of those, so he'd settled for watching from one of the high terraces as the Aesir tried to keep the enemy outside the city without much success.

Perhaps if there was anything left of Asgard after this, the people would finally understand why they did, in fact, need battle ships. Guns could take the enemy ships out but couldn't be moved. Sky gliders were mobile, but they were open and the people they carried unprotected.

"Sire," one of the soldiers asked, "are we to continue waiting?"

"Excellent question." He could neither see nor sense the Aether, not even with the Tesseract's help, and these men could do some damage if permitted. "Three of you find yourself a glider and try to infiltrate a ship. Lady Gna, take the other two and do the same. Find out whatever you can, kill whoever is useless. If you hear anything important, report to Thor. If it pertains to the Aether, come to me."

"And I?" Fandrall made a step forward.

"You come with me." That way he would at least have somebody cover his back, and Fandral would get to keep an eye on him, which had probably been his objective from the start, although the desire to survive was surely a solid motive as well.

Loki took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. Teleporting cost energy, but this time, he could refill his supplies with the Tesseract's help. Besides, he had no desire to run across half the palace grounds to where the gliders were stored.

"Come," he said, grabbed Fandral's upper arm, and slipped away.

"Damn, Loki!" Fandral leaned onto his knees with his hands and took a few sharp breaths. "Since when can you do this?!"

Loki shrugged and climbed into the nearest sky glider. "I've learnt."

"Could you take more people with you"?

He frowned. Why the sudden fascination with his abilities? Fandral may have thanked him a few times in the past when Loki had saves their hide with magic, but that had been in another time. Was the warrior trying to asses Loki's abilities because he feared betrayal?

How unoriginal.

"I could." Two or three perhaps. "Don't get us killed," he said to Fandral when the man joined him on the glider and placed his hand on the rudder. Their gazes met, and Fandral gave a single nod.

"Likewise."

~*oO*o*Oo*~

Entering Asgard was like falling into a movie. With laser guns. Which Tony should totally build, except he'd promised not to make any more weapons, so perhaps he could use the technology for his suits…? Really, not using the knowledge he could gain here to design them would be treason against science.

Jane, though quite capable of flying the boat by now, suffered an attack of nervous blabbering as soon as they were close enough to become interesting as a target, but she held the rudder firmly as Hlin handled the guns. It wasn't until a Dark Elf ship started pursuing them that Hlin took over and Tony left the boat to zoom under the belly of the ship and unleash the unibeam at it. Something exploded, and the vessel plummeted. From then on, he settled for covering the boat from above.

Ten minutes later, his fascination was gone. The only thing he hated more than the laser guns, were those elven grenades that imploded. One of them peeled nearly all the armour pieces off his right arm, leaving just enough for the repulsor to still function (halfway). It also cost him about half of his nerves, which—not fun. He needed those, how else was he supposed to deal with idiots who pissed him off otherwise?

He kept looking out for Loki, but their progress towards the palace was slower than he would have liked, and so he was still too far away. Nevertheless, they were advancing. About time, too. Jane needed to get to safety. She'd done a good job flying, but Tony had to find Loki, and Hlin had to stick around because of whatever would make them need that apple, and looking out for an extra person simply made that harder.

He'd just dodged an attack when he caught a flash of red from the corner of his eye. The next thing he saw was Jane's wide-eyed stare, and then a huge vessel looming somewhere above the bifrost.

Loki's plan had better be good or they were all screwed.

"Stark!"

He barely had the time to look at Hlin before something slammed into him from above. The force flung him straight into the boat. A scream echoed through the pounding in his head, and he was falling, falling…

Adrenaline kicked in. He steadied himself with his repulsors, then pressed his arms to his torso.

Jane and Hlin had been knocked off the boat, and they sure as hell didn't have suits to keep them in the air.

He sped up as much as he could. Moments later, he caught Jane's arm, and then Hlin's, and started slowing down. Only a few more feet…

A blast of hot air hit him in the back, knocking them to the ground. Tony managed to let go of the women so as not to pull them with him, rolled over once, twice, a few more times, and finally stilled.

A breath passed his lips, and he felt so heavy.

He could keep his eyes closed for another moment, surely he could…

~*oO*o*Oo*~

It was a drill by now. Fandral flew the glider straight into the Dark Elf ship—once they'd found the doors, it had become so easy for Loki to reach out with magic and yank them open—and before the Elves knew what hit them, they collapsed onto the floor, Loki's conjured-up knives protruding from their jugulars. Fandral rushed past them into the belly of the ship to kill anyone who may have been hiding. The crews in the previous five ships counted between four and six elves, and Loki had only brought down four in this one. He ignored the bodies and focused on the controls. By now, he knew how to fly the ship, so he directed it towards a larger one.

"Come!" he yelled towards the back. Fandral jogged back into the cabin and jumped into their glider. Blood stained his unsheathed blade.

"You have to admit this is fun," he said.

Loki gripped the edge of the glider to hoist himself in—

And the Tesseract pulsed and pulled.

He froze.

The Aether was here. Malekith. Time to do the job, time to really use the Cube—

A cruel voice in his ear—You have seen nothing yet… Let me show you power… Let me show you real power…

A flash of blue.

"Come on!"

Something—someone— grabbed his wrist. Pain shot up his arm. The next moment, he found himself in the glider and staggered to his feet. From the corner of his eye, he saw the two ships collide, and an explosion shook the air.

"What was that?" Fandral frowned.

Loki rubbed his wrist. "Malekith's here."

"There, I presume?" The warrior pointed towards an enormous ship looming on the horizon. "Are you going to do that again?"

Loki turned away from him. "We need to get closer."

Nothing happened. Loki clenched his fists. Now was not the time for Fandral to show his disrespect by ignoring orders. In fact, now was not the time for anything but efficiency, because they did not have time to waste. There were other ways of getting closer to the mother ship, and Loki only needed to plunge his hand into his pocket of space to touch one. He took a breath, feeling energy flow into him, and then he pushed all that energy back to punch a corridor through space—

Fandral grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. "What are you doing?"

"What you just refused to," he snarled and shook Fandral's hand off. The other raised both hands in a placating gesture.

"What is going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"I'm not that stupid. You're different than before. Something's happened to you?"

"What do you care?!"

A cloud of red spilled out of the elven ship, spread for a moment, and then gathered like a flock of birds aiming for the palace. Loki managed to react in the last moment. A portal opened like a giant wound in the sky and swallowed the red. Another gash of blue appeared, this one just behind the ship; the Aether had to exit somewhere, and if it caused damage to its master, all the better. Malekith seemed to be able to stop the attack in time to keep his flying fortress. Nevertheless, Loki noticed smoke rising where the ship had been hit.

"I'm trying to help you save Asgard!" Fandral shouted back. Loki turned to look at him again.

"Well, then there is no need for you to know anything! I would let you die, all of you, if—"

"Turn around!"

It was too late. The energy shields around the palace shattered as if they were made of glass. Loki growled. This was all (your fault, your fault, yourfaultyourfault) Fandral's fault. He was going to kill the man when this was over, if it was—

"By the nine, get us closer now!"

The ship was approaching the broken shield, and Fandral finally turned the glider towards it. The Elves couldn't get to the palace, not with children inside it, not with the morale boost that would give them.

Loki sucked in a sharp breath, and another one, slower. One quick gesture of his arms and he was holding the Tesseract in one hand. The other hovered over the Cube. He reached out with his magic and felt the Tesseract respond, almost purr, as the tendrils of energy touched it. It took and it gave, and when Loki made a sweeping gesture with his free arm, blue light followed. The last thing Loki saw was a mass of red moving to intercept the beam of energy. Then the two collided and the explosion of light forced him to close his eyes and cover them as best he could. A blast of hot air knocked the glider sideward. Loki reached towards the side; his hand wrapped around metal, and somehow he managed to hang on.

A moment later, the air was still. Blinking, Loki uncurled his body. Fandral was groaning a few feet away, so he had to be well enough.

"We can't stay on this thing," he said, and for once, Loki had to agree with him. If he survived this, he would force Odin to build battle ships, and he was not above playing dirty.

"But you hit them nicely," Fandral continued.

The giant ship was falling from the sky. Bits of red floated in the air, scattered. Even as Fandral spoke, though, smaller ships separated from the main vessel. The Aether was regrouping.

Loki shook his head. "Not well enough. There." He pointed to one of the palace's bigger terraces. As much as he wanted to keep the fight away from the palace, it was the only building that was both high enough and had sufficiently big flat surfaces; he wouldn't fight Malekith on the ground while the Elves could fly. Besides, Loki could still defend the palace even if he was standing on it.

"Weren't you going to go after them?"

"To crash the ship. Malekith will come to me."

He would have to; Loki had no intentions of letting him through. The Dark Elves just had to realise they had to take him out first, and another blast from the Tesseract should drive that point home.

It did.

One of the bigger vessels split from the rest. The Aether swirled around it as it crashed through oversized golden statues on one side of the terrace. Loki stood still, waiting.

Fandral sighed. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Absolutely not."

"You're mad."

"Possibly. You'll make sure nobody will disturb me. I'll deal with Malekith." He would already have to protect Fandral from the weapons; he really couldn't afford more distractions.

The belly of the ship opened, and Malekith descended the ramp like a silent shadow. The Aether swirled around him, the faithful servant.

Loki waited.

"You've learnt some tricks since we last met." Malekith stopped about twenty yards away.

"Not since then."

"It matters not. I will not get into the palace unless I go through you, I assume."

"Perhaps you could."

"But you would do anything in your power to stop me," Malekith said and Loki inclined his head.

"Yes."

"Strange for someone who claimed to wish this world reduced to ash."

Loki didn't reply. He knew what he wanted from Asgard, but it needed to stay standing for him to get it. It was still somewhat of a relief when Malekith stopped talking and sent the Aether forward to do his bidding. Loki responded by raising pulsing blue shields, which turned into an attack, punching a hole through the Aether.

Almost far enough.

Malekith dodged. A whirlwind of red formed around them, first the elf and then Loki, and where it touched him, it lapped away his energy and power—his life force. Gritting his teeth, Loki darted forward, leaving a copy upon copy in his wake. Something moved by the ship, but he had no time to look as he did his best to create a thin bubble of protective energy around him and summoned his knives. They flew straight and sure, even though Loki's aim was a bit off, and embedded themselves into Malekith's thigh.

The Dark Elf cursed in a language Loki didn't understand. Strange. The Allspeak should be able to translate it. Perhaps there was no equivalent word in the Aesir language?

Be that as it may, now was not the time to ponder linguistic oddities. Loki was busy trying to evade and attack, block, attack—an endless rhythm with no certain pattern. Malekith seemed confident enough to rely on the Aether as his only weapon, which made the fight somewhat easier, yet Loki was still at a disadvantage. Not only did he have to create barriers to protect Fandral at times (although Malekith didn't seem to be particularly interested in some soldier who lingered nearby, not as long as Loki was the main threat and challenge), he also had to keep touching the Tesseract to constantly draw on its power, and that meant one of his hands was either trust into his pocket of space or holding the Tesseract in this reality and in both cases useless for anything else. He couldn't simply make the Tesseract hover around like the Aether. Surely there were ways to channel that power without touching the cube. If only Loki knew them. He was neither familiar nor confident enough to use his weapon to its full potential, and Malekith must have noticed. He was sending in attack after attack, forcing Loki to be on the defensive. This was not going well at all.

He danced away from another dark red blast as his heels found the edge of the terrace.

Damn.

There was nowhere to go anymore. Unless...

He was just a bit too late. The full force of the Aether slammed into the Tesseract he'd raised on instinct, clutched in his hand as it was, to shield his face. Gravity won and he fell—

pulled on the Tesseract and tore the fabric of reality. It shouldn't be done, such careless shredding of space. Portals needed to be teased open gently. The universe had to be convinced to part, whereas Loki had slashed a gushing wound through it. Nothing good could ever come through such harm...

His feet hit the ground behind Malekith. He rolled over once (pain blossomed in his knee), and threw another set of knives at the Elf—but another figure appeared and fell under the blades.

Loki cursed.

Of course Malekith would have somebody covering his back. Loki had been too careless, too desperate...

That was the last thought he had time to think before a blade cut through his back.

A/N: Ta-dah! Please let me know what you thought. :)

~shades