SHADOW OF DEATH
Chapter 45: Shadows
When the band of travelers from Midgard arrived, Loki's spellwork cloaked them in invisibility, but Hela's magic sank into Asgard like smoke on wet wood and he could barely hold his spell against it. Through a combination of secret passages and the Casket of Ancient Winters, Loki brought them directly to the first set of massive stone doors protecting Valgrind from the world outside. Valgrind was a series of caves carved out of a rugged cliffside which proved as a last defense for Asgard's people. Now, it hid away the armies of Asgard while Hela's forces gathered and prepared for war.
"Your army stays on the edge of a cliff?" Okoye asked, clearly unimpressed by their final destination. She clung to her spear and gave a haughty glance back at the Asgardian. Her toes narrowly kept purchase on the narrow ledge. A single dislodged pebble fell hundreds of yards to the river below.
"They stay in the fortress hidden within the cliff," Loki answered. He had fought to keep the Midgardians safely locked away on Midgard, but he had only succeeded in keeping T'Challa back. With the loss of his Black Panther powers and his healing injuries, he was in no state of health for the coming battle, though he complained bitterly about being left behind.
"This is why I am the Black Panther now," Shuri told him. "I will fight for Wakanda for both of us. You need to stay and take care of Mama."
"If you are trying to make me feel better, then it is not working," T'Challa answered grimly.
She smiled brightly, took her Panther habit, and gave him a lazy salute. "Tutaonana baadaye, ndugu."
Wakanda's general, on the other hand, insisted on staying at Shuri's side. She gave Loki a furious glare when he arrived and pinned her spear on the wall next to his head.
"N'Jadaka and Okoye have fought like hyenas," Shuri whispered. "It has made her a little grumpy. I would not cross her, if I were you."
"If she wishes to pour out her own blood on the battlefield, I will not rob her of the opportunity," Loki answered.
The remaining Winter Soldier, also, decided to accompany them. "I'd rather die fighting against the bad guys then get zapped on Earth without even knowing it's gonna happen," he said.
Goose made known its feelings on the matter when it leapt onto Loki's shoulders and refused to leave. No matter how Loki threatened or pleaded, the flerkin only dug its nails into his cloak and hissed at him.
"Fine, beast, but prove your valor on the battlefield, " Loki finally said.
Goose no longer clung to Loki's shoulder but it still trailed his footsteps. Loki spoke the runes over the door and with a groan and a rumbling scraping of rock against rock, the doors opened up. At first, their eyes could not see anything but darkness within. Then, shapes moved in the shadows and Asgard's gatekeeper approached them, his golden helm absent from his head, but his arms full of the All-Father's scepter. Heimdall knelt before them and lifted Gungnir.
"Hail, Loki, son of Odin, King of Asgard," he said and placed the staff in Loki's dumbstruck possession.
"But Thor…," he said, and he tried to hand the relic to his brother. Both Heimdall and Thor shook their heads.
"Odin's last words on the line of succession gave the throne to the last Odinson remaining on this side of Valhalla," Heimdall said. "The defense of Asgard from our enemies is in your hands."
When Thor moved to kneel and salute him, Loki gave him such a glare that Thor paused halfway to the ground. "YOU!" Loki shouted, moving to prod his brother in the shoulder with the tip of Gungnir. "Will you ever allow me to be a king in peacetime or must I always be left to finish the battles you have begun!"
Thor smirked and finished his interrupted genuflection. "Gungnir cannot reach Valhalla, brother. If you wish to avoid the burdens of the throne, I suggest you hide in a realm farther away than Midgard."
Loki rolled his eyes and continued to grumble under his breath, though he did manage enough goodwill to stretch out his hand to help his brother back to his feet.
"How fares Asgard, Heimdall?" Loki asked.
"From the moment Odin breathed his last, Hela laid claim to the Eternal City and made it her own. Now, it overflows with her allies and underlings. My sight sees the glow of her magic from the halls of the palace Valaskialf, and, more ominously, from the crypts of Sessrumnir."
"Skadmire promised he will bring the Jotun army by dawn. I sent him with the Ice Casket upon our arrival in Asgard," Loki said.
"Has there been any word from the other realms?" Thor asked.
"Alfheim has sent a ship of warriors, but I do not see them arriving in time. Without the Bifrost, their arrival will be cumbersome and slow. Nidavellir, also, wished to send weapons, but their arrival is hindered by the same challenges as the Light Elves. Muspelheim has not yet decided whether they prefer to help or hinder Hela and so they are currently remaining neutral in this conflict, though Suture sends his greetings to the new king."
"I'm guessing Asgard never bothered to share the secret of the Bifrost with anyone else?" Jane interjected. She walked a couple of paces behind the Odinson brothers, Mjolnir still strapped to her backpack.
Loki cast a wry grin over his shoulder and slowed his steps to answer. "An oversight which has dire implications for us now."
Jane snorted. "I wish I could say, 'it serves you right' but this doesn't seem like the right time to gloat."
"On the contrary, you are welcome to wish all manner of ill tidings and ill will to fall upon Asgard, my Lady."
She rolled her eyes and bit her lip to keep her retort to herself.
The narrow hall they walked through opened up into a vaulted cavern. The uppermost ceiling towered so high above them it could have housed one of the Midgardian skyscrapers within. Stores of weapons and medicines and foodstuffs lined each shelf of the innermost vaults and bunks held thousands of sleeping and resting soldiers, each awaiting the return of their king with weapons in hand.
A hush reverberated throughout the cavern, immediately silencing the hum of chatter which they had heard from the entryway. All eyes turned to the newcomers. A collective gasp sounded at the sight of the Golden Prince, alive and well, accompanying the Trickster Prince, who now carried Gungnir in hand. As one, the soldiers rose and then knelt to welcome their king and prince. The silence shifted into the sound of weapons clambering to the floor, armored knees meeting the rock floor, and fists meeting breastplates.
"Thor lives? Let me at him. He won't keep breathing after I get through with him," came a furious voice from one corner of the room. The Lady Sif, accompanied by the Warriors Three, pushed their way through the crowd to reach the entryway. "If you were not a son of Odin, I would gut you through and through for making us all believe you dead," she hissed, her sword lifted to Thor's throat.
"Sif, you may want to stay your blade until after the battle," Fandral warned. "This knave proves rather handy in a fight, and I hear tell we may have a battle on our hands by sunrise."
She groused to herself and let her sword fall back to her side. Her glare did not empty of its fire, and she kept her eyes fixed entirely on Thor with all their many accusations.
Loki gave a cool greeting to Thor's companions. Then he turned to the Midgardians behind him.
"Allow me to introduce, the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, the finest of all Asgard, the honored entourage of Prince Thor," Loki told them.
"And who are these lovely faces you bring us from Midgard?" Fandral asked.
"These are Sergeant Barnes and the Warriors Three, the finest of all Midgard and my honored entourage," Loki answered.
Bucky Barnes cut an imposing figure in his black armor and the light of the sconces in the cave reflecting off the silver of his vibranium arm. Shuri, in her Panther habit, barely reached his chest. Okoye grasped her spear in one hand and gave a cool, unruffled perusal of the room, equally at ease commanding an army as traipsing around an alien planet following an exiled prince. The bright red and silver of her Dora Milaje uniform gave her more the appearance of a trained warrior than any of her companions. Then there was Jane. Her hair fell down her plaid flannel shirt in a messy bun and she carried Mjolnir strapped to the orange backpack in which she kept her laptop computer and notebook. She barely cleared Shur's height with her own and she appeared more a lost tourist than a formidable warrior.
Sif was clearly unimpressed and she barely paused her silent wrath at Thor to notice the Midgardians.
"Welcome to Asgard, Sergeant Barnes and Loki's Warriors Three. I will look forward to raising my blade alongside Midgard's finest," Fandral said with a flourished bow. His following attempt to kiss the hands of the Midgardian women was quickly halted by Okoye's spear at his neck.
"Come, Warriors!" Volstagg boomed, clapping Bucky on the back so hard the man nearly stumbled. "We have provisions this way. Come and eat and drink and then we will find you a bed or a mat or an extra soft rock!"
Ooooo
Hours past, each filled with an interminable number of battle strategizing councils and well-meaning but terribly inept attempts at greetings and small talk with Aesir lords and generals. What could be said to fill the distance between when Loki had last been in their presence until now? By the time Loki managed to hide away in the weapon vault, he could feel the first shades of dawn encroaching on the edges of Asgard.
He drank in the solitude the nearly emptied room provided. Only a few quivers of unfletched arrows and broken shields remained of the once-great armory. Now, it's holdings had been dispensed to the thousands of warriors outside, each soldier claiming as many weapons as they could carry in preparation for the battle. Loki let Gungnir roll back and forth along his forearms, watching the way the light fell across the engravings on the handle, and soaking in the hum of power emanating from the scepter.
It was the same warm strength he always associated with the All-Father. Since Odin rarely moved without Gungnir, Loki never knew where Odin's own innate abilities ended and Gungnir's began. Loki had held Gungnir once before, and it had been nearly intoxicating in its power. But that was before. Before he had held and wielded not one but four Infinity Stones. Each stone sang and burned with its own elusive promises of power which made Gungnir pale in comparison.
Yet Gungnir was different. The staff drew its power from Asgard – from the magic of the realm and its people and it worked for the health and good of the Aesir. It was anything but infinite.
Loki balanced Gungnir against his leg and withdrew the Soul Stone from his storage. It filled the vault with a dreary lavender glow and the brilliance of its inherent power nearly caused him to stumble. He braced himself against the wall and let his eyes drown in the vibrant mosaic of colors radiating from the heart of the stone.
"A soul for a soul."
"Remember, any warrior can bring about a death and release a soul, but who has the power to create a life?"
"You will still crown me as king… after everything that has occurred?"
Odin rose to his knees and reached forward to brush a lock of hair out of Loki's face. He let his hand fall to Loki's shoulder.
"I love you, my son."
Loki struggled to swallow as he clung to the stone in his hand. This stone had no harness, yet it did not burn him as he grasped it. It was unique among its sisters, but he did not know how to wield it or what it was capable of.
All he knew was that it had been bought at a price. One Odin had paid.
"I love you, Father," he whispered, wishing he had spoken the words out loud when he had the opportunity. Wishing he had done so much more than he had. Wishing he had understood so much more than he had then.
He allowed the violet light of the Soul Stone to enfold him and wash over him while he closed his eyes and thought of all that had brought him to this place. How many missteps and blunders had he stumbled into? How many times had he been rescued by the wisdom of someone outside himself? He could not claim to have achieved any greatness or victory on his own, but only by the threads of fate, the delicate intervention of powers outside his own control.
He hoped it would be enough to carry them through whatever they would face with the rising sun.
He had just sent the stone back into storage and retrieved Gungnir when a set of footsteps approached beyond the door. A light knock sounded.
"Come in," he said.
Jane Foster peeked her head around the door and gave him a cautious smile when she found him.
"There you are," she said. She pulled the door closed behind her and then leaned against it, her hands behind her back.
"Ah, Lady Jane of Midgard has come to seek me out on the eve of battle. Tell me, what mystery of the universe can I solve for you this night? What ill or trespass am I guilty of this time?" he said, dolefully turning from the shadow in which he hid himself, projecting the calm he did not feel.
She gave a false laugh. "Is it too late for that explanation on the Convergence?"
"Not if that is what you wish for. I will speak of you of the Convergence till dawn breaks, if that is what you came for."
"It isn't."
"That is unfortunate since that is a subject easier to speak on than most wish for this night."
"That's ok. I didn't actually come with a question."
"Now it is you who is speaking untruths, Lady Jane. Since when does your well of questions run dry?"
She shrugged. "I guess I could make up one, if it would make you feel better."
"It wouldn't."
"I didn't think so." Jane bit her lip while she fought over what her intended purpose was and she slowly crept across the room to where he stood. Loki… if things go… poorly tomorrow, I just wanted to…," she began, then she trailed off. In a sudden rush of courage, she stood on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips. Just as suddenly, she lost her courage and retreated back across the room again. "That's what I wanted to say," she finished.
He feigned surprise and ran a finger along his lips
"Lady Jane, why have you so accosted me? Is this another of those strange Midgardian traditions?" he asked her, enjoying the way she blushed and dropped her eyes to the floor.
"It's a kiss," she answered.
"I see. Is that a form of greeting or another manifestation of your curiosity?"
"Neither. It's, uh, never mind."
"Perhaps it is an attempt to mark your territory as some beasts are want to," he continued, drawing closer to where she had retreated. When she tried to pull away again, Loki took hold of her hand and gave a gentle tug to pull her to himself.
"Perhaps this is in preparation for battle and to wish me well or to place a spell of protection on my person. I still have much to learn of your traditions, Lady Jane. Please, enlighten me," he said. And he returned her kiss with one of his own, deeper and fiercer than the one she granted him. When he pulled away, he reveled in her slightly breathless expression.
She gave a gentle slap on his shoulder and frowned. "You are just trying to exasperate me again."
He smirked and tangled his hand through a lock of hair falling across her temple. "Always."
They stood as they were for a long moment before he turned away. "Shouldn't you be speaking thus to my brother? Your hero returns and yet you seek out your nemesis."
"No, I don't think so," she said. "I think I am where I need to be tonight… and where I now belong. We are not the same, any of us, as we were back then. Besides, he is currently, um, occupied."
At Loki's frown, she continued, though only after she stifled a sly giggle. "Apparently his death emboldened the Lady Sif. Last I saw, she had cornered him…quite literally… and they have not left that particular corner… for a while now."
"Indeed? Should I offer you consolations?"
"You just did. Though I would accept more, if you are offering."
He remembered the day he first met Jane wearing Thor's visage. Her hazel eyes shone with the light of adoration she had once held for his brother and gazed upon him as if he hung the stars and moon himself. Now, she showered him with the same warmth of expression, though he wore his own face and form, and her eyes shone blue rather than brown. He decided he would simply enjoy the moment, for as long as it lasted, and he pulled her against him in an embrace.
"It depends. How very broken is your heart and how much consoling will you require?" he asked.
She seemed to consider this for a moment before she cocked her head to one side with a half-smile on her lips. "If I say I am terribly, horribly broken-hearted, I can ask for extra consolation, correct?"
"Hmmm, do not act quite so broken-hearted," he said.
She laughed, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him again.
ooooo
It was a glorious dawn and one that Loki thought he would have been able to remember, even a thousand years into the future, for how bright the strips of scarlet and gold danced throughout the lightening sky. The grassy plains of Idavollr were ripe with wildflowers which danced in the morning breeze, despite the weight of dew upon their delicate petals. They were as unaware as the dawn of the weight of armored feet that were about to trod them into the earth or the blood that would water them by nightfall.
The legions of Jotunheim were already in place, their feet sending frost across the grasses of Idavollr and sending a chill into the air from where their ice swords danced in the morning light. Skadmire stood by King Helblindi, Casket of Ancient Winters at the ready in his cerulean arms.
The Asgardian army took their places on the field, choosing the slight rise on the southern face and they stood in formation, waiting with as much anticipation as a hare outside its warren.
They were not disappointed.
It was the drums they heard first. Deep and dark and so resonant that their beats could be felt through the soles of their feet before their ears could detect them. A herd of vultures followed overhead, the constant companions of their beloved mistress, who never failed to provide them with feasts. Then the dark smudge of the black iron armor of Hela's loyal followers from Helheim followed, all the outcasts and criminals from the Nine Realms who clung to their mistress as loyally as the vultures. Overhead, the Chitauri and their mad master took to the skies.
Behind and around stood a company more fearful than all the others. Men without flesh or bone or breath moved without muscle and followed without minds. Their barren, sun-bleached bones wore only the armor of their past valiant deaths and their arms clung to the weapons that failed to preserve their former lives. They exhaled naught but the scent of death and no hearts provided targets for the weapons of their enemies. They were the unliving dead and the undead living. Every catacomb and sepulcher in Asgard had been emptied of its honorable dead and here they stood, summoned by the Goddess of Death for the most dishonorable fate of all.
It was as if Hela and her army blotted out the sun and stole every ounce of fresh air and exchanged it all for the stench of present decay. Even the most stouthearted could not hold in his shudder as they neared.
In the center, riding a wolf larger than a horse, was the lady herself. Her cruel crown of ebony thorns reached around her head like antlers. She wore darkness like a shroud, save for the corpse-like pallor of her face and hands. No fear stayed her steps or hitched her breath. The closer she came to the forces of Asgard, the more animated she became, as if she could already drink in their souls before stealing them from their bodies. Thin blades materialized in her hands and around her neck, a stone glowed from its setting in a necklace.
Loki, mounted on Sleipnir and Gungnir in hand, rode out to meet her. Goose sat on the horse behind him, delicately balanced behind his saddle. Thor rode on one side, Heimdall on the other, and they stared at each other from across the field, neither king nor queen wishing to look away first.
"What is this? Our father gave the throne to you?" Hela spat out in haughty disgust. "You Midgardian bastard! You pathetic excuse for a prince! How dare you take my throne as your own!
"Foolish little king. You made the greatest powers in the universe outside the grips of warriors and kings. I feel them even now, scattered across the universe like stars, but they can no longer come together again. They were meant to be wielded and now they are worse than useless!
"I feel the call of the Soul Stone even from where you try to hide it. Now you have the one stone which cannot be torn asunder and you cannot use this stone to defeat me. It is impossible. Give me the stone and perhaps I will spare the remnant Odin sent to Midgard."
"No," Loki answered.
"Son of Ice, you cannot defeat me. You cannot possibly overcome, regardless how much of the power of the Tesseract was infused into you during your infancy."
She walked with all the deadly grace of a viper, and she glared at Loki as if her eyes alone were enough to inject poison into his mind. Loki grit his teeth and turned on Hela, Gungnir held high in his hands. "I would apologize for living, despite your best efforts to the contrary, but, you see, I find I much prefer it."
"I can see. It is little wonder I reaped no benefit from your death - your death failed to come for my cursed father intervened beforehand and stole you away. Your death would have made me greater than even the All-Father could have imagined. If it were not for the loss of the Casket, I would have finished you myself and drank from the depths of your soul.
"Still, Brother, I can benefit even more from your death now. I will drink of your power for years to come once I impale you on my sword and drink the sweet death you will pour out for me."
Then the fury of her ice-filled eyes fell upon Thor and she frowned further. "And you, Son of Odin, you died once already and I delighted in the taste of the power you gave me. Now you were to fight on my side with my army. How comes you return from Valhalla? Even now, I sense how your power has grown. Your second death will be all the sweeter it."
Loki, visibly thrown, stared at Hela and it was only a quick movement from Heimdall which stayed Hela's sword and kept it from running him through right then. At the sound of uru against uru, the stillness of the gathered armies shattered, and the forces fell upon each other with a roar like cataracts after a snowmelt.
ooooo