A/N: Let me sincerely apologize for the great delay in writing this chapter. It's not my favorite, but it's somewhat necessary. Life has kind of knocked me down a bit: I'm barely getting by in my math class and last week my pet of 10 years, my sweet baby kitty Ozzie, died. We've been dealing with her and the new cat we got recently. Because of this I haven't had the time to write. However, I worked to get this one chapter out for you all, my lovely readers. And so now, without further adieu, I hope you enjoy this installment here.

CHAPTER THREE: OUR NUMBERS ARE FEW

"How dare you show your face here."

Loki was not at all surprised to see his mistress angry. He had even been expecting the lance of ice she hurled his way, and easily teleported across the room to dodge it; it exploded into a hundred bluish-white shards against a far wall. At his suddenly close proximity she flinched, trying to inch away. Instead he grabbed her arm, gently but firmly, in a grip she had no hope of breaking. Slowly the blue spread from their point of contact, up his arm and across his face. His eyes reddened and darkened. She could not deny his attractiveness, even as the hatred burned like hellfire deep in the pit of her stomach. It was what had driven her to him after his brother's brutal murder of her mate. Even now, his eyes were narrows and lips pursed into an almost smile, and it made her icy knees weak. When he leaned in and placed kiss upon her frost-tinted lips, she felt herself succumb, only for a second. When she could gather her strength she pushed him away. The sick yellowish skin tone of one raised in Asgard washed over him again.

"Love, what has got you so angry at me?" he asked, holding his hands up. "I have not yet sent any Jötun to Midgard. I am being careful with the men that are of my own blood."

"And it is in that that you disrespect what they are." she snarled at him, hugging her arms to resist the urge to touch him. Every time they met, it resulted in bed-lying, and she was not going to give him another child at this point in time, when the realms were on the verge of collapse and death. "You disrespect them."

"Sending Frost Giants and Hellhounds into the same battle seems like a bad strategy." Loki admonished quietly, as if he were lecturing a child. Angrboda bit her tongue, pressing her lips together in a frown. "I do not come here to demand another child from you. Only that I heard you still doubt me."

"I am scared." she said. "For my own children. For Hel and Jömungandr. And mostly for Fenrir."

"Why him especially?" Loki inquired, having the gall to incline his head in curiosity. Angrboda turned away from that sly smile; he knew exactly what he was doing to her, and the sick bastard was actually enjoying it.

"Because he is the only one directly involved with you." she answered. "He loves you too much; he'll blindly follow you anywhere as long as it pleases you. And that makes him reckless. He doesn't look out for himself—he's never been taught how to—and I'm scared that I will lose him."

She was silent after that, afraid that if she spoke anymore her fear and worry would manifest into tears. After an agonizingly long silence Loki approached her, reaching tenderly for her hand. She looked up, surprised to see a hard, unrelenting frown on his face. Tears danced in his eyes, but he easily blinked them away. His skin had turned blue again, the odd lighting and the grooved whorls on his skin casting shadows that made him look older.

"I lost one son to them." he said in a low voice, almost a growl. "And I will not give them another. I'd rather they took my life before his. And I swear to you, Angrboda, I will not let Fenrir die. Just as I have promised Svartalfheim, and just as I have promised the giants of this realm, I will spare him from his intended fate on the day Ragnarök truly begins." Without breaking skin contact, Loki moved his hand up her arm, over her shoulder and neck, to rest it on his lover's cheek. "I only wish you would show me the same support for this as our child."

Angrboda's breath hitched. "I will encourage my son," she answered. "As long as you do not get him killed."

Loki smiled at her before vanishing into thin air.

The Avengers sat in what was the equivalent of a living room in Stark's Tower and contemplated their existences for a moment. Thor still kept his head down, even after he finished his lengthy explanation of what they were about to face. Pepper had come in midway, hearing something disturbing enough to her that she'd sat next to Natasha on the sofa and listened to the rest of the gruesome tale. Tony had watched the color slowly drain from her face. Later Fury himself barged in, and forced Thor to start from the beginning. Hesitantly, the God wasted thirty minutes of Tony's already busy life explaining something he already knew. When he finished, no one had spoken for a long time.

"You're going to die?" Steve finally asked. It was barely above a whisper. For a moment they'd thought Thor had not heard him. But finally he unclasped his hands to place them on his knees.

"Yes." There was a pause, as if he was allowing that confirmation to sink in. "According to the prophet High, I will kill Jörmungandr, but during the battle he will poison me, and I will perish." He finally looked up, flinching at every set of eyes he dared to meet. Even he seemed uncomfortable with the talk of his own death. Tony wondered how often the remembrance popped into his slightly thick blond head. He wondered if it ever disturbed the God, knowing how he would die, waiting for the signs of the end to show before he began to count down the days. Knowing how much time he had left would certainly bother him. He found the thought ironic as he stood from the recliner; he'd once known down to the very minute how he would go.

"We sent Loki to receive justice on Asgard," Fury snapped, never moving from his power stance in front of Thor. "Not to find another reason to want to destroy us. And now he comes back, intent on obliterating the entire universe? I want to know exactly how that madman escaped."

"His son freed him from his binds." Thor answered, brave enough to look the man in the eye. Something appeared in his eyes, just for a moment, and then it was gone, replaced by a hardened defense. "Though, I do wonder how Fenrir managed to free himself. Gleipnir was made so that not even his strength would be enough to break it." He stood, towering over the Director, and easily stepped past him, looking to the skies.

"Will the Bifröst open?" Clint asked. Thor shook his head slowly.

"I am just thinking." he replied, and after crossing his arms, the God neither spoke no moved for a long time.

Magni walked cautiously through the winding hallways of Utgård, his eyes darting into even the darkest of corners for any signs of the patrolling Jötuns. They didn't seem to yet be aware of his presence in the deep underground vault, and he planned on keeping it that way. He clutched his bow in his sweaty hands, the string magicked away. Two small, pointed blades protruded from the ends, reflecting what little light reached him. The walls were too close together for his liking, and he felt trapped. It wasn't hard to see why Fenrir had wanted freedom after years of imprisonment.

No one was guarding the door of his chamber, not anymore. They hadn't even bothered to fix what was left of the door or clean up the flaking blood of their comrades from the floor. Fenrir had torn several of his security guards apart, taking out his anxiety on them, most likely.

The prison was vast and warm, warmer than the rest of Jötunheim's tundra territory. From several rings of metal on the ceilings and walls Gleipnir was threaded into a series of complicated rings, two ends suspended from where the links had been disconnected. Despite the scene of gore around him, it was clean and rust free. He delicately touched the slim metalwork, and the magicked chain began to move, wrapping around his wrist at an incredible speed. It was thinner than anything Magni had ever seen, and by the time it had finished spinning around his wrist it was barely thicker than the leather vambrace it lay atop.

"We have an intruder." The deep growl of the ice Jötun behind him set Magni's heart pounding in his chest. At the unseen flick of his finger over a switch, the blades on his bow sunk back into the metal framework, the bowstring rematerializing. Wordlessly the boy reached for an arrow from one of the quivers strapped between his shoulder blades. "Do you know what we do with intruders here, boy?"

Magni notched his arrow, took a deep breath, and spun around. The Jötun fell as the knight behind him wrenched his sword from the body with a loud, wet smack.

"Honestly, brother." Modi laughed as gore dripped from his broadsword. "Your hesitance will one day be your downfall."

"You mistake my patience for the unwant of killing." Magni explained, returning to arrow and capping his quiver. "I have retrieved the chain as the Allfather ordered."

"To Midgard, then."

"We are supposed to report back to the Allfather for further instruction." he corrected, slinging his bow across his back. Modi sheathed his sword, frowning at him. His eyes were narrowed, darkened in the shadows.

"He's just going to send us there anyway. Why not save him the trouble?" Modi shrugged, turning his back to his brother and leaving the room. Letting out a heavy, controlled breath, he followed, stepping around the leaking body to avoid the growing dark puddle of blood. Bodies—or, rather, pieces of them—were strewn across the hallway. Modi certainly knew how to make an entrance. Magni could only wonder how the new Jötun King would react to the news that the sons of an Aesir had managed to sneak past his soldiers, cut them to bits, and steal the one thing that could even the odds against Loki's powerful son.

"You would go rogue during a time of war?" he challenged, stepping to walk beside his brother. "Our grandfather has too much to worry about already without fearing a revolt by his own descendant flesh and blood. We will speak to him first." Magni waited for his brother to argue, and when he didn't, he sped up, walking just in front of him. As they approached the staircase he heard a laugh from his brother behind him.

"Kiss-ass." he teased, giving his brother's waist-length braid a good, sharp tug. Magni grunted, peeved when his brother did not let go of his hair, instead using it much like a leash. "I suppose you are right though. Fine, we will speak to him."

Heimdall greeted them stonily, as always, as he retrieved his sword. "You were wise in returning." he said to the young Lords. "Your grandfather awaits you in the Great Hall." The Watcher took his post just outside, and the twins followed after, Magni giving his brother a well-deserved, self-satisfied smirk before turning and making his away across the shimmering, renewed Bifröst. Modi stuck his tongue out at his brother's back, and the tall, dark man's mouth twitched in what counted as a smile in his books.

Odin was waiting for them in his throne room, sitting upon his high golden chair and clutching his spear. His gaze was trained at the windows, one hand covering the lower half of his face. His eye was glassy, clouded by the many thoughts that must have been wandering through his wise, ancient mind. He snapped to attention as the boys kneeled before their grandfather.

"Speak." he ordered, sounding impatient for a man who had time to daydream. Magni and Modi rose to their feet, feeling small in his presence. Modi could feel his heart pounding his chest. Since hearing about Nari, he couldn't quite see his grandfather in the same light anymore. He saw a King ready to kill innocents to punish the guilty, and not the man who'd taught him how to saddle and ride a beast.

"We have retrieved Gleipnir." Magni held his arm out, where the minuscule chain links were wrapped completely around his forearm.

"Good. Good." he said, and stood. Modi tried not to flinch, and partially succeeded. No one acknowledged it.

"We wish to go to Midgard." Modi blurted, and the old man's gaze turned on him. He could almost hear Magni's wish to slap his hand against his forehead in the slow, tense sigh expelled from his brother's nostrils.

"Will you carry a message for me, then?" When the boys nodded, he continued, "We have found an ally in Alfaheim. However, they refuse to leave their own lands, instead wishing to focus on protecting themselves."

Cowards, Modi wanted to spit, but bit his tongue instead to keep himself from uttering the words; for just a moment he could feel his brother look at him, waiting for his reaction. He nodded, placing a fist over his heart. His plates clinked loudly, echoing in the vast room. Magni repeated the gesture, and they both bowed their heads.

"I wish Godspeed on you both." he said, and they left. Once they were out of earshot from the King, Modi drew in a breath to speak.

"If you tell me 'I told you so,'" Magni said over his shoulder. "I will flog you within an inch of your pitiful existence." Modi could only laugh at his brother and give his braid an extra hard yank for the threat.

Pepper was doing her research, and Tony was neither surprised nor disappointed. She'd grabbed six books on Norse mythology from a bookstore down the block, and since three o'clock in the afternoon had been making notes and summarizing the legends for him. She had even written down the pronunciations of those incredibly not-English names. Tony poured them both a drink and joined her on the couch. She looked tired, and her face lit up at the curved glass of red wine in his hands. She dropped everything and reached for it with both hands.

"What have you learned?" he asked, dropping himself on the leather sofa next to her with a heavy sigh, and immediately she moved over to lean her head on his shoulder. Neither one was much of a cuddler, even after sex; they just liked to be close enough for physical contact, in case it was needed.

"Well, it's kind of hard to summarize almost eight hours of reading." she said. "All of the legends about Ragnarök coincide with what Thor told us. Did you know he's supposed to be married to a Goddess? Her name is Sif."

"Ooh." Tony hummed appreciatively as Pepper giggled saucily and took a generous sip of her wine. "Jane won't be happy to hear that."

"Especially since she's the Goddess of War." Pepper moved closer to Tony, just enough so that his arm, draped over the back of the couch, could prop her head up as she let it fall backwards, closing her eyes. "And you should ask him about the time Thrym stole his hammer."

"Who?"

"Sir," JARVIS interrupted, and the couple simultaneously let out a heavy exhasperated breath. "The Avengers have just engaged in battle on Broadway."

Tony wasn't looking directly at her, but he could feel Pepper's head turn and stare at him pointedly. He cocked his head to the side at her knowing glance. "You know," he said, "I've heard that's a great play."

"Go," she urged, taking his shot glass from him and standing. "I'll still be here when you get back."

"Well, in that case," Tony jumped up from the sofa, pausing to stretch his arms over his head. "I guess I can spare some of my time this evening. Cancel the meeting for tomorrow then."

"Your meeting's at four in the afternoon," Pepper reminded him, but when he looked over his shoulder she was already getting her leather bound planner and picking up a pen.

"Right. Cancel it." he repeated with a wink. "Ten minutes at the most."

Natasha had heard Thor's stories about the Bilgesnipe, that the ugly creatures has just enough brain power to figure out how to destroy something. But she'd never actually imagined having to fight against one, or that her bullets didn't work unless shot at the perfect angle in the meager spaces between their dark, pearly scales or into their black eyes. They were four times the size of a bear, complete with large black claws and antlers sharp enough to easily impale five cars (which were amusingly stuck onto one creature's head). And they were fast, incredibly so that one of them was upon Natasha in mere minutes. With a shrill roar its paw snapped out, batting her away easily. She dropped her guns somewhere as she hit the pavement, pain resonating through her body from her shoulder where she landed, rolled, and slid. It trapped her beneath the dark claws, slowly pushing the air from her lungs. Steve shouted her name before yelping in pain. The creature's wide mouth opened, thick clear gobs of saliva dripping from them. Natasha realized with dread that she was not going to get away from this. She was actually going to die.

And then a large silver blade easily plunged through the creature's skull. Red blood spilled like a waterfall from its head, splashing on her exposed legs before it fell to the side with a loud thump, taking a good chunk of an evacuated apartment complex with it. Natasha crawled to her feet, watching in a mix of awe and horror as the armored boy wrenched his sword free. He seemed completely opposite from the son of Loki, with short golden curls and bright brown eyes. His plates were a bluish silver, blood dripping from the polished metal. He smiled at her, dimpling his right cheek.

"I trust that you are not injured too badly, Milady?" he asked. Steve appeared next to her. His mask was torn in half, a large gash cut across his forehead. Natasha slowly shook her head yes, a knowing grin spreading across her face as she pieced together the puzzle before her.

"And you are?" Steve asked. The boy gave his sword a stiff shake, the gore staining the blade now splattering onto the pavement. He gave a slight bow.

"I am Modi, son of Thor." he said, just as Natasha knew he would. "My brother and I were sent as allies to the Midgardian forces." He looked around for a moment, assessing the damage done to their buildings and roadways. "Which seem to be severely lacking." he added skeptically.

"That's an understatement." Natasha said, spotting her guns and quickly running to retrieve them. Steve and Modi followed, quickly becoming acquainted with each other. She picked up her weapons and quickly reloaded her magazines. "We could use all the help we can get, especially if you're anywhere near the strength of your father."

She turned to see Modi grinning, much in the same way as the trigger-happy recruits in S.H.I.E.L.D. did when given a gun. He flexed his metal-gloved fingers on the hilt of his sword, looking beyond them. Steve was pale in the face. Natasha turned to see why the boy was so happy. Part of her wasn't surprised when her eyes lay on the large black wave stampeding toward them.

"Aren't there two of you?" she asked, and heard the boy laugh behind her; it was mirth born of pure ecstasy, and it didn't tell of anything good.

"We have a bet." he explained, and that was all he said before leaping before them, headfirst into the oncoming crowd of animals. Natasha could only wonder if their new allies would be any help at all before looking at Steve, who shrugged, and both Avengers jumped into the fray.

Thor had destroyed many of these creatures before, but never had there been so many in one herd. Bilgesnipe were not socialistic animals, and never had he expected to be ambushed by so many that the few seconds that it would take him to summon Mjölnir could mean his death. He held one stenching mouth open, otherwise allowing the large teeth to clamp down upon his neck, and busy kicking the other four away. They were toying with him, believing him had. The Man of Iron was busy flying around, looking for a weak spot somewhere on their backs and sides. Most of the time his bright white lasers would ricochet off a gleaming scale, causing the man to fly to avoid being hit by his own attack.

"I swear to God, Thor!" his mechanized voice echoed above him. "If you don't get your brother back to Asgard—properly caged this time, mind you—I'll probably kill him myself!" Tony fired another cannon blast, this one landing in the eye of one of the beast. With a hard squeal it fell, and Thor redirected the snapping jaws onto the neck of its dead companion, throwing himself to his stomach to avoid a large black claw. He rolled to the right and leapt up in time to see a barrage of arrows flying towards them. They embedded themselves into the creature's brains, necks, and chests, and the fell over. Thor looked carefully at one, noting the way int which the wood had been whittled and how the phoenix feathers were tied on the ends in that certain way. He turned his gaze into the thinning fog of debris dust to see a very familiar and heartwarming silhouette walking towards them. Anthony Stark landed beside him, his mask sliding away.

"Dear God." he mused. "It's actually Legolas."

Magni raised an eyebrow at the other man but said nothing. He looked just as he had when he'd left for Alfheim, but his hair was about a yard longer, swinging back and forth behind his back in a long braid. In one hand he clutched a bow of shimmering silver metal, his other hand wrapped gingerly about the hilt of Mjölnir. When Stark saw this, his jaw dropped unbelievably, but Thor only smiled at his son and accepted his weapon from him.

"I did not expect you would be here." he said. Magni grinned and looked about them at the large black corpses.

"Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty-one, -two, -three." he counted. "Sixty-three kills. I think I've won."

Thor shook his head, sighing heavily, but he was smiling. "You and your brother should not be making bets on such things as kills in battle. It only encourages his rash behavior."

"He could use a bit of encouragement."

"Whoat, wait." Tony stepped between them, putting a hand on Thor's shoulder. Magni tensed, his eyes locking onto the glow that reflected against his father's pauldrons. "Can you hit the pause button on your cute little back-and-forth and explain to me who this kid is? And why can he pick up your hammer? Not even the Hulk could do that."

At the mention of his name, the giant green beast appeared, landing close enough to the stranger to make him jump; he immediately notched two arrows against his bowstring. Hulk growled at him, crouching and ready to attack. Thor immediately stepped between them.

"Enough of this. Magni, lower your weapon." Thor did not move or speak another word until he had done just that. At the unaggressive action, the Hulk huffed and straightened slightly. His bright green eyes never left the child. "Stark, I want to introduce to you to one of my sons, Magni."

Magni's eyes flickered to Tony, he nodded once, and then looked back again to the Hulk. The beast simply stared back at him.

"These are my teammates—my friends," he corrected, his palm still held out to keep his son stationary. "They are part of the Midgardian forces here."

"Part of? Or the whole? There do not seem to be many warriors."

"Tell me about it." Tony said, those piercing blue eyes once again flicking toward him. "Let's save all of the fun little introductions for later. For now, we need to do a quick sweep of the city, make sure we got those bastards." Tony jabbed a thumb to one of the many large corpses behind him. "Besides, Pepper's been waiting for me for almost half an hour now, and, considering she used to work for me, she's really not all that patient."