Jarvis monitored the vitals and took the usual preliminary readings that he did when the residents of the Tower returned to him and his watchful gaze. Knowing that something had happened to them and being able to assess the extent the damage done meant two entirely different things to him. Sir's vitals, he logged automatically and logged a reminder for himself to quietly arrange for Sir to eat and sleep for twelve hours-something Dummy or Sigyn would help with.

The new arrivals had the same basic physiology as that of Thor. Their body temperatures and the density of their muscles as well as the various wounds were logged into his databanks, but he held off deciding for their dietary needs until he had a better idea of the threat level they posed to his creator. Sir could sometimes be entirely blind to some of the qualities of his guests and even if Sigyn had cleared them, they were still new and unknown-aside from the little Knife Thrower. Knife Thrower would be watched very carefully and neutralized upon any sign of hostility towards Sir again.

Sigyn, he noted, was moving with little difficulty despite the blood stains that colored her back in three areas. Clinically, he noted that the location of the wounds would have incapacitated Sir's armor and that the length and edge of the knives would have sliced through the protective layers to puncture Sir's kidneys and right lung. With that knowledge, he logged more upgrades to be done on the suit the next time Sir worked on it.

He tracked them into the living room and noted the cool efficiency with which Sigyn approached their wounds. It was the second time he had witnessed such a shift in her and he logged it as a point of interest in case of another emergency that needed such skills. Dr. Banner's approach was similar, but this was the first time he had seen it and was thus noted for further study. As they began to talk, he took note of what was said, but continued to monitor Sir and Sigyn's vitals. They were, after all, two of only three individuals that treated him as something more than a sophisticated machine.

Steve had since abandoned his shield next to the couch to act as a living rack for the medical supplies Sigyn and Bruce were using to patch up the three new individuals. Sigyn seemed to be spending the most time feeling through the black haired woman's wounds, stripping away the armor with an efficiency that had him looking at the ceiling. It wasn't the first time that he had seen a female soldier stripped like this, but he was no more comfortable with staring at the women than he had been when he had served in the war.

"Paralyzed," Sigyn murmured at last. "Their blades must have been coated quite generously with blood of the Sethlans. It isn't deadly, but it does induce a powerful paralysis that lasts for days-which would be more useful in a battle against foes such as the Aseir."

"That's a-" Thor began, snarling low in his throat.

"-coward's trick?" Sigyn finished for him, slanting her eyes to look sidelong at him. "Perhaps from your vantage point, but not from mine. Strength against strength is all well and good, but I can't put back together someone that has been ripped limb from limb or had his head hacked off. Poison or paralysis is something that I can deal with, so, yes, Thor, I prefer these methods in our enemies. Don't begrudge your friends their lives and bodies for a coward's trick."

Thor's lips just thinned, but he offered no further argument since the debate was an old one between them. The Warrior's Honor versus the Healer's Duty had always been a heated point between the two classes of the Aseir and had never been satisfactorily settled between any of them. For the moment, he decided, he was glad that his comrades had survived the battle intact to bring them news of what had happened in Asgard.

Except…

"Where is Volstagg?" he asked, suddenly realizing it was the first thing he should have asked. "You are never without him. Why did Heimdall leave him behind?"

Fandral grimaced, and not for Bruce's treatment of his leg wound. "He…has reentered the cycle of rebirth, Thor," he said. "The first night that the Vanir attacked, it was only their warriors. The second day…it was a massacre and a slaughter. We were completely unprepared for their attack and we were overwhelmed." His eyes took a shadowed look as memory claimed him. "We fought valiantly, we did, but there was nothing we could do to save the wounded that first night and Volstagg was among them."

Sigyn looked up from tying off the last of the bandages for Sif's wounds and fixed Fandral with a look. "The Aseir warriors are among the best in the universe. What did the Vanir bring with them that would overwhelm an army such as them?"

When Fandral bowed his head and refused to answer, Hogun said, "Siege Wolves."

The color drained from her features as she unconsciously gripped Sif's arm. "How many?"

"At last count, sixty," Hogun said. "Heimdall believes there to be a total of three packs. One in the mountains and two among the Vanir."

"So eighty," Sigyn said, looking down and smoothing her hands over Sif's arm.

Darcy exchanged a look with Steve and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "What is a siege wolf?" she asked like it was the obvious thing.

Sigyn's lips twisted into a sardonic smile. "They are warriors cursed into animal form and granted their former sentience alongside animal cunning and strength. There is no way to undo the spell and few would choose such a life, but for those that do they are hard to kill and even harder to fight. Their hides can only be pierced with a concentrated effort and their claws and fangs are generally coated with a naturally produced paralysis gel," Her gaze flicked to each of them in turn. "They are hard to control…unless you have a White Alpha."

Fandral's head shot up and he stared at her, open mouthed. Thor was only a moment behind him in putting the pieces together and she wouldn't have doubted that Hogun had already put the pieces together, if his carefully blank look was anything to go by.

"And a White Alpha responds only to orders from their bloodline," Hogun said slowly. "Fenrir would respond to you or his aunt as a pack alpha. That is why they attack. They know Odin made Fenrir into a White Wolf."

Immediately, Jarvis sorted through the search results he had acquired upon looking for the reference in mythology and found…nothing. There was no mention of a White Alpha within Norse mythology (?). Searching though the most recent records he had hacked from SHIELD for Sir brought the same result. There was nothing.

To Sigyn, he directed the question, "What is a White Alpha? What sets it apart? By your explanation, the only thing that makes them special is their ability for command, but command does not necessarily make them different from the rest of the species."

She looked up at the ceiling-it still amused him that she had made a habit of looking at the ceiling whenever she spoke to him-and said, "Legend says-sorry, our legends say-that they are the strategists, the strongest, and the center of a web of magic that connects them and allows them to connect telepathically. Without the White Wolf, the Siege Wolves are just very big wolves with interesting fangs and claws and no method to truly communicate with other races. They have to be trained to obey."

"Then, your son is the key to these Vanir controlling their wolves. Is that why they attacked?" he asked.

A grim smiled broke across her features and pulled the corners of her eyes down as she sighed and looked away. "There is a long history there. My son was likely just the tipping point for them," she said as she rose to stand over Sif. "She will wake in a day or so and then I will be able to assess if there has been any neurological damage."

Her tone was detached, but Jarvis caught the flicker of worry that crossed Sigyn's face and made Knife Thrower frown. If he had to guess, Sif was someone that had been Sigyn's companion and friend for a long time. They must have been through a lot together, he noted. He filed that away and turned his full attention to Sir while keeping an auditory channel open to them in case they needed anything.

He was sitting at his desk, just staring at the three semi-transparent computer screen,s and actually contemplating the food he hadn't eaten earlier when the lights flickered in his lab. He had just finished the initial scan of Hogun's knives and turned the project over to Jarvis, because-really-he could feel the caffeine draining from his body and the hours of working endlessly on project after project were beginning to catch up with him.

"Before you pass out on the desk, sir, I would like to point out that you installed a bed in the workshop three months ago in case something like the' incident-that-is-forgotten' happens again," Jarvis pointed out mildly.

He eyed the computers and chuckled mirthlessly. "You're really going to try it, aren't you?" Tony asked.

"Ms. Potts was clear in her request," Jarvis said. "And I've no doubt that Sigyn would aid me in sedating you, sir…in the interest of keeping you from collapsing."

"I've gone a week without sleep," Tony pointed out.

"Yes, and that was the week that you nearly electrocuted yourself, dressed like Elvis, and almost got arrested for public indecency, sir," Jarvis reminded him patiently.

There was a long silence in which Tony glared at his AI. "Sometimes, I think I made you too smart for my own good," Tony sighed and Jarvis knew a concession when he heard one.

Inside the space between shadow and light and heat on the dead planet, Loki surveyed the work that had been done. A livable atmosphere and ground that could be cultivated if one worked for it. The shimmering edges of the barrier that divided the dead planet from the small area he had worked for shone when he pressed his palm against it and tested the spells. He snatched his hand back with a hiss of pain and smiled. One last touch and it would be done when the spells finished anchoring themselves into the planet itself.

Moving to the middle of the prison, the words were already forming themselves on his lips. The flow of magic left his hands and, for a moment, he felt it twining with the spells already in place, then it slipped from him and the spell for teleportation snatched him away before the final touch closed on him. With an abruptness that had him stumbling, he blinked and found himself standing in Sigyn's room.

A rueful smile touched his lips as he cast his eyes about the empty room. There was a book discarded on the bedside table and the covers were still rumpled as though she had only just woken. Here and there, his gaze caught on the little things that made the area hers. Clothes draped over the arm of a chair. A set of books set on the sill where the curtains just barely covered the windows. A bottle he suspected was scented oil on the top of the dresser. Given another month or two, he was sure she would also acquire jewelry and an assortment of hair pins.

He hadn't meant for the spell to take him to her. He had meant to start the second phase of his plans and begin negotiations with the dwarves and Vanir, but he wasn't surprised that he had returned to her. He knew, without the aid of any spells, that Stark's pet was aware of his presence and monitoring him.

"Where is she?" he asked to the room at large.

There was a slight pause before a voice responded, "I am not authorized to answer questions concerning the residents of this Tower. I would also advise against searching for her. Your presence is tolerated in her room for her sake, but that tolerance does not extend to the rest of the Tower."

Loki felt his lips curling into a smirk as he cast his eyes around the room again, searching for the source of the voice. "And when she was injured?" he asked, already striding towards the door.

"An exception was made for the medical wing at the time," the voice answered. "I would strongly advise against that action," it added as he reached for the handle.

The door opened and he stepped into the hall, still smirking.

Sigyn had just moved onto caring for Hogun's wounds, when Jarvis said, "Ms. Sigyn, I regret to inform you that I have had to take nonlethal action against your guest to prevent them from violating predetermined safety measures."

Thor tilted his head back to look at the ceiling, breaking off a quiet discussion with Fandral. Sigyn barely twitched from sewing a long gash on Hogun's arm as she said, "Are you, perhaps, mistaken, Jarvis? To my knowledge, I have no guests in the Tower. Thor is the only one of us who has brought someone to reside within this residence."

"One might consider him to be a guest of either you or Thor, but I believe him to be-at this time-your guest due to the abrupt nature of his appearance," Jarvis replied.

Her hand stilled before she stabbed Hogun and she glanced upwards. Warily she asked, "What kind of nonlethal action did you take against my husband and why did you deem it necessary?"

"I have done nothing that will cause even temporary bodily injury or altered his senses in any form," Jarvis returned. "Currently, he is asleep in the hall three steps outside your room. I deemed it necessary to subdue him when he would not listen or adhere to the predetermined safety measures. As well, he is still listed as one of SHIELD's top ten most dangerous intergalactic criminals."

"They have a list for intergalactic criminals?" Steve asked, sparing Sigyn having to make a comment.

She sighed and blew a strand of hair from her face. "Let me finish this, Jarvis. I'll be done in three minutes," she said, resuming the stitching of Hogun's arm. "And, if he wakes, please do not subdue him again. Loki likely isn't here to make trouble. If he was, he wouldn't have teleported into my room."

"I shall strive to keep that under advisement," Jarvis replied dryly, giving her the impression that he already had another round of sleeping gas ready should Loki wake.

"I could-" Thor began.

"No, brother," Sigyn said firmly, never looking up from stitching. "Appreciated though the thought is, you are one of the last individuals he would wish to see upon first waking up after having been…subdued."

Jarvis said nothing to her subtle rebuke and Thor looked only slightly disappointed as he turned his head back to Fandral and picked up the thread of their previous conversation. Beneath her fingers, Sigyn felt Hogun's muscles flex and knew he was eyeing her with interest. "Would he be willing to help?" Hogun asked.

"No," she answered flatly. "Asgard has done nothing for us that would move him to its defense."

There was only the slightest of pauses as she finished the last stitch and tied off the thread before Hogun asked, "And what of you?"

Her eyes darted up to meet his dark gaze. "I fight for those I love and no one else," she said softly. Raising her voice, she said, "Thor, stop talking tactics at Fandral and let him eat something and rest. He likely isn't telling you half of what he remembers due to exhaustion clouding his mind so whatever plans you have already made aren't going to be very helpful. There's still food in the fridge from last night's dinner and this morning's breakfast." Then, she rose and handed off the slightly bloody materials to Steve before making a hasty retreat.

Bruce watched her vanish around the corner as he washed his hands and took from Steve the remaining materials they had used to cleanse and bind the wounds. The two men shared a look before Bruce ducked his head and ran the bloody clothes under the flow of water just to see the crimson of their blood against the silver and, for a moment, marvel that humanity held something so mundane in common with another sentient species.

Surfacing slowly out of the darkness, the first two things he realized were that his helmet was missing and that warm hands were pressed on either side of his head, framing his temples. Cracking an eye, Loki was unsurprised when Sigyn's worried face greeted him. "You're overextending yourself again," he murmured, slipping a hand up her arm to cradle her cheek against his palm.

Power seeped through them-tugged and frayed, splintering between latent spells and fracturing to settle into their bones. She shook her head free of his touch and withdrew her own from him, straightening on the edge of the bed that she occupied. "And next time that you decide to test how protective someone is, don't do it in their territory," she returned, voice sharp.

He frowned at that and studied her, seeing now the deeper lines of worry that creased her lips and eyes. She looked older, he realized. Carefully, he sat up and slid her hands into his as he pressed his forehead to hers. When she finally met his gaze, he said, "Tell me what frightens you."