Visitation

by kalimecat

Loki has returned to Asgard and is imprisoned for his crimes. While in prison he has the occasional visitor, will the love of others bring back the fallen prince or is he truly too far gone?

24. The Runaways

A/N: HEEEEELLLLOOOO READERS! HAPPY NEW YEAR! I Hope you all had happy and safe holidays! I am so sorry that it had taken me this long to update. I really planned to post this chapter closer to Christmas, but of course the holidays are busy and time gets away from me. Anyway I still appreciate all your reviews, follows and favorites. I have been writing this story for nearly 2 years and it is your interest that has kept it going. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. The story is coming to a close but you have been a fantastic audience all the way. WEll without further ado I give your chapter 24. Happy reads and writes and God bless you in the new year!

Furious hooves pounded frantically down the winding dirt road. The night air was harsh and frigid, the temperatures were rapidly dropping, harvest time would soon give way to the first frosts. The rider's heart was beating at twice the pace of the horse's gallop. "Just a little further," the rider urged the beautiful white mare. Smooth tanned hands patted the snow-white fur on the horse's neck encouragingly. "You can make it," a soft voice whispered in the horse's ear. "Not much further now, I hope," the rider muttered nervously. She looked over her shoulder anxiously. She kept imagining that she would find Theoretic charging toward her upon his fiery black steed coming to drag her back to Kelby, but she was relieved to find nothing was behind her beside the trail of dust and her over active imagination.

Seeing that no one was behind her, she pulled back on the reins of her white mare's bridle, causing the animal to slow down. She knew that Snowflake had been riding at an astounding pace for a long while now and poor Snowflake wouldn't be able to keep up such a pace all night. Besides, they couldn't ride all night anyway. She would need to find a proper map if she even hoped to return to the Imperial City before Convergence. Moreover it was cold. I was bitter cold. The icy wind felt like needles stinging and pricking her tanned-skin face. She couldn't feel her lips. Her hands had grown numb from being exposed to the frosty night air. She was no healer, but she was sure loss of sensation was one of the signs of frostbite. She didn't know why she hadn't thought to pack gloves. She was a fool, she chided herself inwardly, she she should have at least brought a warmer cape. She had a very lovely riding cape, the color of sugarplums with a luxurious velvet lining and a fur trimmed inside. That cape was warm. She should have worn it, but she had been in such haste that she hadn't thought things completely through. Well she'd had thought completely through about leaving, but she hadn't thought of the provisions she would need for this daring escape.

Also she was tired. Tired was an understatement, she was exhausted. She hadn't slept in a little over a days time. She'd never gone so long without sleep. She felt out of balance. Her body would go from being jittery and overly alert to feeling as if she would pass out. Her eyelids started to droop and she could feel her body starting to shut down, desperate for sleep. She felt her body slumping forcing her to lean against Snowflakes neck to keep from falling off the saddle.

Sigyn started to drift off, despite her best efforts to try to stay awake. Once her eyes closed Sigyn could feel her body swaying, wobbling about to slide off of the back of her fast moving horse. Sigyn blinked as she felt her self starting to slip off of Snowflakes back. Quickly, she managed to take hold of the straps of the bridle and pull herself back up.

They needed to find shelter. Sigyn was shivering, her teeth were chattering and she couldn't feel her hide against the leather saddle. She needed to find place to rest and to warm up or she knew she would never make it back to the Imperial City. She had been hopeful to come across an inn, but inns and taverns were sparse in the Dales. She thought that perhaps she could find a farmhouse where she could take lodging for the night. The simple, country folk of the Dales were known for their genteel hospitality to strangers. It was not uncommon for them to allow a stranger to stay the night. Actually, it was such a custom that had allowed her sister to meet her fiance, a traveling merchant, who sought refuge from a storm one night. She actually found it rather romantic.

Lady Sigyn tucked her cloak tighter around her petite frame, trying to protect herself from the ever plummeting temperatures as the hour grew later and later "Just a little bit further, girl," she cooed. She could feel that Snowflake was becoming tired. "Please, merciful Yggdrasil, allow us to find a place to stay the night," she prayed as she squeezed her pretty amber eyes shut as she clung tightly to her cloak. 'Please allow me to reach the Imperial City in time...before...before Convergence, before it is too late for Asgard, for the Nine Realms, for Loki," she pleaded.

Finally, after what seemed like hours and hours of endless riding, a most welcomed sight appeared in the distance...a house, illuminated by the pale light of the moon. The house could have been a hovel, but it looked as beautiful as the Imperial Palace in that moment. Houses were few a far between in the Dales. Most of the time their were miles and miles of land between neighbors. The house in the distance appeared to be a small villa. It was far smaller than the stately plantation home of Kelby Manor, though fancier in appearance. Kelby, although a charming residence, was antiquated in its architecture and rustic in fashion. This home was much more in fashion, with marble pillars and columns around the doors. The doors were made of brass and iron. The roof was made in a style similar to a pagoda.

"Sh-sh-shelter!" Sigyn stuttered through her chattering white teeth as she beheld the residence. She rubbed her hands together to warm them. She slumped her body over so that she could lean on and hug Snowflake's neck. "You did well, girl," Sigyn said beaming down affectionately at the lovely white mare. She soothingly stroked the side of the thoroughbred mare's long, snowy neck. Sigyn rubbed Snowflakes soft flank as she hopped off of the horses back and lead the horse by the reins to the iron gate that surrounded the small estate.

The iron gate had an insignia on it of a knorr ship, (Viking ship) with a head the head of a sea dragon. It was a ship that Sigyn recognized well. It was a ship that looked just like that of her grandfathers. The ship had been in their family for many generations and it remained the flag ship of the Royal Navy. There were also two hatchets on either side of the seafaring vessel. Such symbols were not the signs of a plantation owning family. The symbols of her father's house. Sigyn's face looked puzzled for a second. She it was dark and although there were words carved into the coat of arms insignia on the gate, it was hard to make out. She brought her chilly fingers up to trace the Rune script. "Arn?" she mouthed as she felt the iron carved letters in the gate.

---

A soft, but earnest tap-tap-tapping came to the brass doors of the stately country home. The hour was late, way after midnight, an hour that was far too late to receive callers and house guests, especially in the Dales. Good country folk were fast asleep by such an hour for they would be up in only a few more. The knock though, timid at first started to grow stronger, louder and more hurried nearly frantic. It soon became a desperate pounding. It was plea, a cry, someone begging to be let in. "Do you hear a knocking?" asked the youngest woman of the three women inside the small country villa. She was dressed a lacy nightgown. She brought her dainty pinky finger to her ear and wiggled it around in their as she strained to listen to the rhythm rapping upon the brass door.

"No," a gruff, baritone male voice responded dismissively, "It is probably just a tree scraping upon the upstairs window," he explained to the three worried looking women. "I'll go out and hack off the limb in the morning," he continued as he stretched his powerfully built arms. He proceeded to march toward the steps which led to the upstairs bedrooms, "Come let us be off to be, it is time for rest," he expressed somewhat tenderly to the women around him. But each of the women paused and stopped their movements to listen more intently to the direction the knock was coming from. The man amongst them paid no heed to the knocking and continued to lumber across the squeaky wooden floor.

"No, no, no," the middle-aged woman of the group protested wagging her finger. She was a pretty woman with honeycomb skin and hair like corn, her hair had soft wisps of gray that cut through the blonde locks since the woman was aging gracefully. "it's coming from the door," she pointed back toward foyer. All eyebrows raised and the anxious, frantic, relentless knock continued to bang and beg their attention. "someone is at the door," she insisted

"It is probably one of the servants!" explained the lord of the tiny manor in his masculine base voice.

"Could be a peddler begging for a place to spend the night," answered the young woman, her high pitched voice sounded annoyed. She rolled her large blue eyes, "I hate when they do that," she muttered as she fluffed her curly red-locks, "Although come to think of it, maybe I shouldn't hate it so much," the young woman paused for thought. She brought a well manicured finger to her lips, "After all that is how a met my betrothed," she said with a squeak and giggle and winked at her mother, a short, petite woman with her mixed gray and platinum blonde hair pulled up in a wimple.

"Well unless it is your betrothed they've got no business knocking on our door at this hour," grumbled the master of the villa.

"Don't worry, sir, I'll see to it to send them away, you all just go up stairs, I'll take care of them," the elderly sounding voice replied and soon quick foot steps followed headed to the door.

The brass door creaked open and standing in the light of the doorway was a small, trembling figure, hidden beneath a thick woolen cloak with an obviously expensive fur trim around the hood. "Now see here you," the woman with sleek gray hair pulled into a ponytail near the nape of her neck started. Her brown eyes stared critically at the waif. "It is indecent of you to come here and bother good people at this hour of the night! Civilized people are trying to sleep at this hour!" the woman with the wrinkles around her eyes scolded as she wagged her finger in front of a face she could not see. "Now away with you!"

"P-p-please," the chilly traveler stammered between chattering teeth, "I...I...I need a place to stay the night."

"Well there's no room here!" the older servant woman insisted. Lady Sigyn panicked as she saw the heavy door coming to slam in her face. Reflexively, her cold hands strayed to push against the ever closing brass door. It wasn't that she was trying to force her way in, but it was so cold outside, she would surely catch a chill if she spent the night in the stable and if she became ill she would never be able to make it back to the Imperial City in time to give the scroll to Prince Loki before something terrible happened. The servant hadn't even looked at her, she'd just immediately turned her away without even the slightest glance. "I will call the dogs! I will! I will!" the trusted maidservant declared as she forcefully continued to try and push the door closed. The hands of the caped person pressed back against the brass door that was rapidly about to close in her face. "Why of all the nerve!" the elderly servant woman fussed as she felt the beggar pushing back against the door. "I'll alert the master at once! Away! Away from here you miserable urchin!" the white haired servant woman railed as she pushed harder on the back of the door willing the door to slam.

"Elke!" exclaimed Sigyn as she kept pushing against the door that came closer and closer to being shut and locked in her face. "Please!" she squealed. When the handmaiden heard how the beggar knew her name she was startled and her hands flew off the back handle of the door allowing the door to fling open as tanned hands pushed hard against the outside of the door. Sigyn tumbled inside, falling onto the floor of the entrance way into the house. Sigyn managed to push herself up from lying flat on the floor sprawled out like a bearskin rug. Her hands were still shaking, but she managed to slip the hood of the cloak from around her face revealing her soft and pretty features. He golden ringlets tumbled from underneath the dark hood.

Elke gasped and staggered backward and covered her mouth with trembling, wrinkled hands, "Sigyn!" the old woman exclaimed

"Elke!" the daughter of Admiral Arn breathed, her shivering was starting to cease as she started to feel the toast flame from the glowing hearth in the background thaw out her frigid limbs. "It's so good to see you!" she cried out as she rose to her feet. She immediately threw out her arms and wrapped them tightly around her old nursemaid. The elderly servant woman looked quite stunned. Sigyn planted soft kisses on her cheeks and tears started to spill out of her wide amber eyes. She always loved Elke. Elke had been more than a servant in the house of Arn she was just like family, she was like an elderly aunt or even a grandmother.

Elke was dumbfounded. Of all people, in all places, at all times the last person she thought would have shown up at the retired admiral's door was Sigyn. Still, Elke pressed pass that and she engulfed Lady Sigyn in an embrace. Although Elke never condoned the actions of Sigyn she did miss the young woman. She had been Sigyn's nursemaid since the day she was born. "Lady Sigyn," she shook her head once more taking in the look of the beautiful blonde-haired woman. She gripped the young woman's face in between her wrinkled hands. "What are you doing here, child?' she asked. "Your mother and sister said you were going to Kelby?" the older woman whispered in a quietly voice as her eyes darted over her shoulder to look into the living room. "You're not in any trouble, are you, girl?" the old lady asked.

Sigyn bit into her soft pink lip, feeling like a shamefaced child once more. Her eyes darted downward. She could think of many times wen she had had to confess trouble to her nursemaid, like the time when he schoolmarm, Mistress Adelaide walked her home by the ear saying how Sigyn was talking to much in class. "Well," Lady Sigyn started.

"Elke who is that at the door?" called Sigyn's mother. "Send them away, tis late," Lady Arn called.

"I will show them out myself!" he declared as he raised a mighty fist in the air and stomped toward the doorway.

"Hello Papa," Sigyn greeted shyly as she pushed her curly, blonde tendrils out of her face to reveal her vivid amber orbs that matched her father. Her smile was eager, but somewhat nervous as she took in the big, broad shouldered Viking sailor appeared in the foyer. Her father looked well. There were a few more strands of gray streaking through his curly red beard, but all in all he looked the same. It had actually been some years since she had seen her father. She hadn't been invited to her family's home since Rana's betrothal ceremony. Timidly Sigyn started to approach. He looked quite shocked to see her. His mouth hung open and his thick mixed gray and reddish eyebrows were quirked quizzically at the sight of her. Her feet scuttled across the floor, but before long they were face to face and she stretched out her arms to hug him. Her father's shoulders were to broad for the Asgardian maiden to fit her arms all the way around but she gave him a tight squeeze that was full of affection. She planted a sweet kiss on his whiskered cheek. She kept her arms wrapped around her father's neck.

She waited for her father to reciprocate the embrace. He didn't. In fact, Lady Sigyn felt the ex-admiral's back grow rigid and his arms remained limp at his side. Suddenly, Sigyn felt very foolish for her greeting, she pulled her hands from around her father and dropped them in front of her. She automatically lowered her gaze, started worrying her glossy pink lips and played with her fingers.

"Sigyn?" Her sister, Rana gasped as she came up behind their father. She looked at Sigyn as if she was seeing a ghost. It certainly wasn't the same look of elation that was expressed on Sigyn's face through her broad grin.

"Rana!" the golden-locked daughter of Arn cried happily as she turned to the one with the crimson hair. She instantly hugged her sister as well. Rana did manage to wrap her arms around Sigyn's thin body, but the hug was loose and limp and insincere. It was merely a tap-tap on the back. Sigyn didn't like those type of hugs.

"Sigyn!" an older, but not old blonde woman chimed in.

"Mother!" Sigyn breathed, she started to cross in front of her father and sister and hug her mother, but she immediately interrupted.

"What are you doing here?" her father instantly demanded his bushy, burnt orange eyebrows were starting to knit together. He didn't give his daughter a chance to respond. "You are supposed to be in the Dales with Lord Theoic!"he informed her harshly. His gaze remained critical. "why aren't you with him!" Lord Arn immediately barked. His loud voice caused Sigyn to jump where she stood.

"Or are you with him?" Her mother chimed in. She rushed to the door pushing pass Sigyn and looked out into the night. She expected to see carriages and horses all lined up out side. "Perhaps they were traveling to the Dales and needed a place to rest, Arn," she explained as she patted her husbands shoulder. "We have more than enough room, Sigyn show your groom-to-be inside the manor," Lady Arn stated gesturing wildly with her hands.

"Umm," Sigyn murmured. She started to move her foot in a circle over the floor. "Theoic isn't with me," Sigyn stated she still looked down at her feet and worried her lip and fiddled with her fingers anxiously.

"Sigyn, I don't understand," her mother started as she marched toward, "Lord Theoic assured me that he and you were going to leave for the Dales the night after the grand funeral," she explained. She looked back at her husband fearfully. "He was very adamant on the fact that he wanted to evacuate the Imperial City as quickly as possible. After the attack he just didn't feel safe," Lady Arn continued to express.

"Yes, yes, that is true we did leave," Sigyn confessed, she couldn't bring herself to meet her mother's blue eyed gaze. "We left that very night," she went on.

"Then why aren't you with him?"Lord Arn spoke up. His already deep and grizzly voice was coated with an unflinching firmness. Sigyn' felt his leathery finger hardened from years fighting on the high seas grip her fragile shoulders so firmly that she felt he would crush her shoulder blade. "Where is he?" The ruler of the house roared at his daughter. He set Sigyn to trembling. He inquired his gold eyes narrowing as he looked at his youngest daughter.

"Well...well Papa," Lady Sigyn started to stammer.

The grizzly red-bearded Viking started to growl her father's temper had always been stormy like the sea, "Why aren't you at Kelby?" he demanded cantankerously he squeezed tighter on the once handmaiden to the queen's shoulder. A slight whimper escaped from small, glossy, pink lips as she felt her father's pressurized grip on her clavicle bone. "That is where you are suppose to be!" he ranted squeezing harder causing Sigyn to gasp. "What have you done?!" he growled as he spun her around to face him. He looked like a ferocious lion. His great curly red mane was all around his face and his face was red and snarling, his teeth bared viciously. "Answer me girl!" he yelled at her as he held her tightly around her upper arms and shook her like a rag doll.

Sigyn body shook and flapped, her head rocked back and forth at wicked speed so much so that she could have gotten whiplash. "Arn! Arn! Arn!" Sigyn's mother cried as she watched her massive sized husband shake their petite daughter viciously she feared that in his anger he would lose control and end up breaking every bone in their daughter.'s body. "Please!" she shrieked as she heard Sigyn start to whimper and sob. She rushed toward him, placing her soft hand around the contours of his massive muscular biceps. "Enough!" she shouted her voice shrill with panic. Something about the gentle touch of his wife combined with her frantic tone jolted the brawny admiral. For a minute he was able to collect himself. He kept a tight grip on Sigyn, but he did stop shaking her. "Please," she breathed with relief, "let Sigyn speak," she stated and pointed to the blonde-haired woman who stood before them quivering like a leaf from fright.

"LET HER SPEAK!" he fumed in outrage. "Every time this girl speaks shame and folly flow from her lips," he spat looking at her with a cruel snarl in his gold eyes. "I'm about tired of this girl bringing nothing but trouble to this house!" he growled and he looked at Sigyn with nothing but bitterness shinning forth in his gold irises. "I'll be hanged before I let her disgrace us again!" he spit out as he turned a disgusted gaze from Lady Sigyn and looked back at his beautiful wife. Sigyn looked so much like her and for years it was for this reason that he had always had a soft touch with Sigyn, but his years of indulging the sweet face, giggly girl and spoiling her with gifts and trinkets had produced a foolhardy woman who was nothing but a burden and a shame on the family name. "What have you done, Sigyn!" he hollered once more. "If you have given that man any reason to put you away..." he started. "if you have been found worthless once more," the admiral rumbled his whole body shaking like a volcano ready to erupt. "Oooooohhhh, Sigyn I swear!"

"Papa, I can explain!" Sigyn gasped through sobs as she held herself to keep herself from shaking.

"YOU CAN EXPLAIN! YOU CAN EXPLAIN!" the retired admiral roared. His powerful voice was full of rage and it sent Sigyn into a frenzy of loud sobs.

"Arn!" his wife with long blonde ringlets same as their youngest daughter scolded as she ran to Sigyn's side and placed a comforting hand on Sigyn's shoulder. Sigyn felt her mother's comfort and immediately turned her face toward her mother's shoulder and started to wail hard and loud. Her whole body was racked with sobs, she felt so alone. She had run home. It wasn't the home where she had grown up, but still it was the place where her parents and sister resided. It should feel safe and warm and loving, but it didn't. All she felt when she walked in the door was her father's utter contempt for her. Her mother and sister although they didn't necessarily hold her in contempt, they certainly weren't elated to see her. "Arn," his wife's voice was patient, but no less firm. She took a protective stance around Sigyn. Her thin, motherly arms encircling the weeping young woman. "Let Sigyn explain herself" she stated sternly.

Lord Arn conceded with an irritable grumble that sounded like a bilgeschnipes warning growls just before it lunged into an attack. "Elke, see too it that Lady Sigyn's things are put away and have her room made up, quickly," Lady Arn ordered as clapped her hand to bring the older woman to attention.

"Yes'm," the feeble old serving woman responded dutifully as she scuttled along after removing Sigyn's satchel from her shoulder.

"Rana, why don't you help," the noblewoman suggested with a pleasant smile as she addressed her ginger-haired daughter.

Rana returned her mother's easy smile with a scowl. "Whaaatt?" the eldest daughter of Arn squawk. Rana detested being forced to do such menial work. Besides that she was terribly nosy and she could see that her father's patience with Sigyn had about warn thin and she was itching to see the eruption. She knew it was wrong. She should not relish in her sister's misfortunes, but after all the shame Sigyn had brought upon their family name she wanted her father to lay it on her something thick. At first she hadn't liked seeing the way her father would come down on Sigyn, she would even try to defend her younger sibling. Their father, thought understandably so, had been exceeding harsh on his younger daughter. But if Sigyn was to be such a twit as to ruin the one chance she had at restoring a bit of their family honor and ruin her own one marriage prospect well then she was simply a fool and deserved what she had coming to her.

"Please, Rana," the older woman who had her golden locks pulled in a neat wimple scolded. "Your father and I need a minute alone with Sigyn," she explained.

"Hmph!" the eldest snorted as she turned her pointed nose up in the air. "Fine!" she grumbled as she started to stomp toward the stairs.

"I'll make us some tea," the wife of Admiral Arn stated. Soon the porcelain tea kettle whistled over the open flame. Lady Arn brought out good china cups and decorative saucers and placed them on the marble topped coffee table. She served to the to her husband and daughter respectively. Admiral Arn was sitting on the Victorian couch it was an upholstered black, white and silver. Sigyn's mother always did have exquisite taste in dressing a home. Lady Sigyn was seated across from her parents in a high-backed, heart shaped princess-seat made of silver silk. "You should have some tea dear," Lady Arn encourage as her soft hands caressed her husband's hairy knuckles.

"I said I don't want any tea, woman!" he barked at her. "No more beating around the bush!" he snapped once more. "Why are you here, Sigyn?" Sigyn's father demanded and his tone showed that he was barely in control of his infamous temper. "Why are you not at Kelby!" he continued to question furiously, her father's great big hands gripped the arm rest on the seats on his chair. Sigyn could hear the wood creak as he squeezed. "What have you done?" he yelled and slammed his boulder like fist on the armrest. The force of the sea captains calloused hand broke off the arm of the chair. 'If you have given Theoic any reason to put you away..." Lord Arn began to cautions.

Sigyn looked to her mother, hoping that she would try to temper her father's reaction, but Lady Arn did not meet her daughter's gaze this time. She kept her eyes focused on stirring her cup of tea. "I did go to Kelby, father, just as Lord Theoic had requested of me" Sigyn confessed her voice was nervous and breathy and she fiddled with her necklace and gown as she spoke, she needed to find something to do with her hands. She didn't look up the ex-admiral. She knew that she wouldn't find any tenderness in her father's golden gaze. Rather it would be a hot stare full of ire. She hated having people angry with her.

"And!" he immediately snapped not even giving his golden locked daughter a chance to swallow and continue talking.

"I had to leave," she expressed in one quick breath as she set her china cup down on the coffee table. She worried her lip. Biting into the glossy, pink flesh of her bottom lip until she started to feel pain. She closed her eyes as she prepared for the impact of her father's rage.

"WHAT!" Lord Arn rumbled with fury. "You ran away?" the burly Viking concluded his voice low and caught in his throat.

"Oh father!" Sigyn broke into a blubber. Her face crumpled and her small pink lips started quivering fiercely. Tears streamed down her face and her nose ran like a faucet. She did her best to wipe her nose and dab at her eyes with a handkerchief, but she was powerless to stop the floodgates "It was so awful, father!" Sigyn wailed as she shook her head. She cover her face for a moment then looked up at her mother with pleading eyes. Her eyes were already red and puffy from tears and her amber pupils were trembling fiercely as they fought to hold back the tears.

Lady Arn's heart crumpled as she saw Sigyn so distraught and besides herself, but she tried not to show much emotion. Sigyn had never had a good head about her. She always been a bit histrionic. She always made mountains out of molehills. "How so?" Lady Arn asked back, coolly. "Your father went to Kelby himself to negotiate with Lord Theoic. He described it as very beautiful. Theoic is a well-to-do landowner who has ample means to provide you with a comfortable life," she explained as she took another sip of tea.

"It wasn't the house...no it wasn't the house...the estate of Kelby is quite lovely, but," Sigyn started her eyes looking up at her father who was on the verge of boiling over. His large hands were pressed tightly around the arms of the chair he was sitting in and with every passing second his face grew hotter and hotter so that his skin was nearly the same color as his flaming hair. "But...but...but... I am to be his second wife," Sigyn began breathlessly as she shook her head.

"By Yggdrasil! Yes, you are to be his second wife!" the ex-admiral thundered as he rose to his feet. "And you should be grateful to be that!" he scolded. "You should be grateful that any man would take you into his house as anything but harlot!" he hollered in Sigyn face.

"Oh Father!" Lady Sigyn gasped as she covered her face with her hands. "I...I...I..." Sigyn stuttered trying to catch her breath and speak up to her father, but she was so fearful that anything that she would say would only further incur her father's wrath. "I...I...I didn't leave because I was his second wife father," Sigyn managed to whisper a rebuttal, she kept her eyes lowered and her head bowed, her hands folded in her lap, "but...but...but," she mumbled trying to find the right words to express herself. "His first wife," she shook her head, "Lady Tyra," Sigyn breathed and finally looked up at her parents. She is too cruel...oh she is so cruel mother," Sigyn nearly hyperventilated as she brought her hand to heart. "She did such awful things to me, forcing me to work, work, work like hobby horse...I...I" Sigyn started to cry harder.

"I don't care if you were his 15th wife and the other wives made you wait on them hand and foot naked!" he fumed all the more and he stood up from his seat and flipped over the coffee table. The cups of tea that had been sat there spilling onto the floor and Sigyn's splashing into her face. The golden locked once lady-in-waiting to Queen Frigga yelped of fright at er father's ferocity.

"Arn!" the middle-aged, light-haired noblewoman shrieked as china and tin and marble was splattered across her rug.

"Be quiet woman!" he ordered the mother of his two daughters. He never turned around to face his wife he merely pointed a silencing finger in her direction. "I shan't hold my tongue any longer about this matter!" he declared as his shoulders heaved and he stepped closer toward Sigyn. He crunched the china under his boots as he walked. "How dare you think you can disavow what I have already set into motion," he fumed at her with every step her took toward her his face burned, brighter and brighter red until his whole face was nearly the same color as his curly beard.

"Father, I wasn't trying to dishonor your wishes," Sigyn mumbled. "Or to disavow the marriage contract that you and Lord Theoic came to agreement with," Sigyn explained breathlessly as she shook her head.

"Hold your tongue!" the ex-admiral ordered as he slapped the china cup Sigyn was sipping out of out of her hand. causing Sigyn to yelp and jump. Her china tea-cup tumbled toward the white rugs; it's warm contents spilling to the floor. Sigyn looked down in alarm the carpet beneath her feet was all white. Her mother loved white carpeting because it gave a look of opulence. Sigyn was an uncontrollable puddle of sobs. "what do you call what you have done. You shall not disgrace me once more!" he roared as he stalked toward her.

"It was just too much for me to bear,' Lady Sigyn whispered her voice was barely audible as she tried to speak to the downpour of torrential tears. "I'm sorry," she wailed as she hid her flushed, wet face behind bronzed hands.

"Too much for you to bear! Too much for you to bear," Lord Arn started to scoff. He tossed back his head in a thunderous mocking laughter. The laughter was even more terrifying than his yelling. It sent a chill down Sigyn's spine. She braced herself. The Viking's rough, hands gripped Sigyn firmly around the wrist, pulling her hands away from her face and slamming them down against the armrests of the chair. Sigyn shook with fright, but she was unable to move from the seat. "And what about me?" her father pointed out a mean spirited smile plastered beneath his bristly red beard. "Was it not too much for me to bear when I went to Odin contradicting him and his son, pleading your innocence, saying that you had been belied and then it was proven that you were nothing more than a whore?!" he screamed in her face. He was now leaning over her, in her face. Sigyn started sniveling and sniffling once more. She turned her face from him, closed her eyes and squeezed tight around the arm rest. She bit her lip to keep from crying out loud, for she knew that such tendencies would only anger her father further. She pressed the side of her cheek against the high-backed upholstered seat cushion. "Was it too much for me to bear when I was paraded through the streets of the Imperial City in a cart to have fruit thrown at me, to be jeered out by a crowd, to be made to serve two weeks in the stocks for insulting the prince's honor by trying to present him with a wife who wasn't a virgin? What about when I was made to serve 6 months in the debtors prison because I could not pay the sum of the bride-price that the house of Odin was originally supposed to pay for you?! I was forced to work like a slave in the mountain mines with the same brigands and pirates that I had arrested on the high seas!" He continued. "How do you think I felt when I was reduced to the same state as those sea scum varmint?" Lord Arn continued to rage he gestured with his hands wildly. Frightened, with eyes so wide they looked like big golden doubloons, Sigyn shook her head to answer her father's question.

"They attacked me in my cell!" Lord Arn informed his daughter as he slammed his hairy-knuckled fist down on the arm of her chair,

The hot, salt tears streamed down tawny colored cheeks like water flowing from the rapids of a waterfall, her breath was coming out in quick, raspy, gasping sobs. She was starting to hyperventilate. Her lip was quivering, she couldn't even breathe. "Fa-fa-fa..." she hiccuped, 'I...I...I...Mmmm...s-s-sorry," she sputtered.

"It is far too late for your apologies, Sigyn," the scruffy faced admiral declared. "What of your mother?" Arn pointed out, his breathing was now ragged as if he had been fighting in a great battle. Arn's weathered, leathery, hairy-knuckled hands pointed back at his wife. "Think of all that she has had to bear for your sake! She has had to give up everything because of you! Her life at court, her rank amongst noblewomen, her fine things!" he went on. Sigyn looked to her mother, hoping to find some tenderness in the woman's eyes, but her mother didn't hold her gaze. She looked away with her lips tight. Sigyn knew that her mother felt the same as her father, that her actions had cost them everything. Her mother was a woman much like herself. A gentlewoman who loved extravagance. Who loved fine wine, pink champagne, elegant, silky gowns, expensive jewelry and the lavished life of court, but she'd had to give it up. Her family couldn't afford to live in the Imperial City anymore and since her father had lost his rank in the armed forces and his position in court, they were nothing but a mockery. "And what of Rana?" the bushy-browed admiral started once again. "Your sister could have married an Einherjar! She could have married a diplomat, instead of having to settle for a merchant class man! You took away your sister's options! We have all born things too great for us to bear because of you, Sigyn!" he yelled once more.

"Oh Papa!" Sigyn finally breathed out through her tears. "I am so sorry for any pain I have cause our family. I am so sorry," she explained through crying. "I have every intention of returning to Kelby," she expressed.

"Oh you best believe you will be returning to Kelby!" Lord Arn huffed. He turned away from Sigyn for a moment, he'd had enough of seeing the girl sniveling. He gritted his teeth together and clenched his fist to keep from releasing the full extent of his fury. After a few huffy, calming breath the ex-admiral was able to cast his gold eyes back toward the soon-to-be wife of Lord Theoic. "You will make good on the arrangement that Lord Theoic and I have come to and I don't care what his wife says or does to you, you will stay there and you will be obedient and respectful, Sigyn and bring this family no further embarrassment! I don't care if she beats your hide, Sigyn you have no choice, but to stay. You better pray that you conceive a child and give your worthless life some meaning!" The red-bearded seafarer demanded raising a thick finger at Sigyn's button nose. The amber-haired maiden cringed under the condemning words of her father. Is that what she was, just a worthless woman? "Do you understand!" he yelled. Lady Sigyn bobbed her head. "Are you mute, girl?" Admiral Arn continued to rage Sigyn's compliant and pitiful nod through torrential tears was not enough for him. "Say it out your mouth!" he barked.

"y-y-yes," she squeaked.

The gargantuan crimson bearded Viking gave a snort of some sort of approval. "I will be taking you back first thing in the morning," he stated to his daughter harshly. "I suggest you get some sleep," he grunted starting to turn away. He started to lumber toward the staircase, Lady Arn was at his back, rubbing his shoulders and back as he escorted him away from their youngest daughter.

"Sigyn, Elke will show you to one of the guest rooms," Lady Arn explained dismissively as she her husband made their way up the steps.

Sigyn's bloodshot eyes caught sight of her parents ascending the stairwell, she panicked. She couldn't go back! Not yet! She had wrote to Lord Theoic and told him that she would return and return she would. She'd made a promise, but not yet. Not before her mission was complete. She had to see to it that the scroll made it to Loki's hands.

The blonde maiden sprang to her feet and rushed toward her family at the steps. She was moving so fast the she stumbled over the red carpet that ran down the stairs. "Father no!" she cried as her knees collided with the steps she'd slipped on. She gasped as the pain shot through her leg, but she didn't allow the pain to force her to keep quiet. She reached her long, tanned fingers out and caught the back of her father's coattails. The youngest Arndottir panted pleadingly as she held firmly to the hem of his robe. "I...I...I can't," she confessed. New tears welled in her gold eyes.

"Sigyn, now that's enough!" her mother rebuked rough and sharply. "Your father has spoken," Lady Arn reminded her daughter. "You shall not dishonor him or your betrothed lord any more with this blatant disrespect!"

"I will drag you back there by your hair, if I have to!" Lord Arn roared. He turned around despite the fact that his wife and fiery haired daughter were trying to push him up the steps to keep him from lashing out at Sigyn.
"Father," Sigyn broke, her voice was weak and breathy. Her eyes looked petrified as she gazed into the face of her father. It was contorted and ferocious, snarling and menacing. She kept her hand clinging to his cloak it was an entreating gesture. "Please... father I would not have left if it was just a matter of Theoic's wife," Sigyn explained looking down as she clambered to her feet. "I would have stayed... and I...I...I will go back," Sigyn confessed submissively with her amber eyes downcast and her head bent, her arms neatly folded in front of herself. "I...I...I promised Lord Theoic that I would and...and I am a woman of my word," Lady Sigyn assured her parents. Sigyn sucked in a sharp breath, she clenched her dainty hands into fist, she closed her eyes and exhaled. "But," she stated in an exhale, "I can't return just yet," she admitted all to quickly eyes still pinched tightly shut.

"Just yet! JUST YET!" the once proud leader of the naval forces exploded. "You have no choice in the matter! You will return to Lord Theoic first thing in the morning and if he will not take you back than you will live out the remainder of your life in a brothel!" the bulky, bristly bearded captain warned.

"Arn!" the ex-admiral's wife gasped, even she was shocked by her husband's words. But she knew that Arn would do it.

"I...I...I have every intent to become Theoic's wife, Father," Sigyn reiterated.

'if he takes you back!" The once nobleman interjected, "What type of man do you think would want a runaway bride, a wife he would fear that he couldn't control. For all he knows you could be gallivanting off to be in another man's bed!" Lord Arn growled. "For all I know that is what you could be," he mumbled testily his eyes narrowed and he scrutinized her.

Sigyn shook her head in protest, "No!" Sigyn shrieked as she stood to her feet. "it is not as you suppose...b-b-but...I...I cannot return until I get to the Imperial City," she explained.

"Sigyn what in the name of Yggdrasil are you talking about!?" the redheaded admiral raged automatically. "You have no business in the Imperial City now," He continued. "You are Theoic's now!" Lord Arn yelled. "Get that through your head!" he stated, his face firm and unyielding. He pointed a rough finger at the center of her forehead as if we was trying to burrow his words and will into her mind. The way he pushed on her forehead was painful and Sigyn's eyebrows furrowed against the pressure.

"Papa, please" Sigyn screeched finally as she clutched at her heart and then at her ears. She shook her head vigorously. "You don't understand," she mumbled as she started to sob all over again. She felt so overwhelmed. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know if she should tell her parents about the scroll or not. "I have something..." Sigyn started her body was quaking as she was wracked with intense sobs. "Something...Something," she huffed through her tears, "Something very important," she whispered as she slowly started to bring trembling hands to reach into the folds of her cape. "Something very important that I must give to the royal family," she confessed finally. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She didn't know if she should be telling her family about the scroll. It was private. No one knew about and no one should have known about it besides Lady Dagmar and Prince Loki but it was her only chance at making them realize. "I...I...I" she looked down at the rolled up parchment, trying to find the right words. Words didn't always come easily for her. Especially, words that had to be measured and weighed carefully. She didn't want to reveal too much, mostly because she didn't really know that much, and she wasn't even completely sure of the information she thought she knew. It was all so foggy and vague, misty like looking at something through a dirty window, you thought you knew what was going on but you could never really be sure because the images weren't clear. But one thing she was most certain about was the fact that the scroll was significant for Loki, if not for Asgard. "I believe it could help Asgard defeat the Dark Elves," Sigyn's bright gold eyes softened as she looked down at the scroll. She'd said it. She'd said all that she felt was lawful to say. Perhaps now her father would understand. Her father had once been a distinguished and revered naval officer in Arsgard's Imperial Fleet and even though his love for her had seemed to wax completely cold after her betrothal to Prince Loki had been annulled, he had never been anything less than faithful to his king and liege, Odin. Surely, if her father knew about the scroll and knew that it was something that could save Asgard in their hour of need, surely he would not try to stop her from doing that. Even though he had lost his ranks and commission among the nobles of Asgard, she knew that her father was still a loyal soldier at heart and he would do anything to protect king and country. Tentatively, Lady Sigyn's sun-kissed fingers reached into the inside pocket that lined her cloak and she pulled out a small tightly wrapped scroll sealed with a small, velvet, red ribbon wrapped around it. She presented the scroll. She held it in front of her in her trembling hands.

"A scroll," Lady Arn scoffed as she looked at the piece of rolled up parchment slightly shaking in Sigyn's warm colored hands. She rolled her bright blue eyes and sucked her teeth.

"A letter," the once handmaiden to the Queen of Asgard qualified.

"Sigyn, what is this?" her mother asked completely baffled by the letter before her.

"Something important," Sigyn explained hopefully. Sigyn bit into her soft pink lip, anxiously.

Lord Arn growled, "Sigyn," he barked. "Stop talking in circles, you ninny!" the master of the house of Arn declared.

Sigyn shook her head, fighting to keep from shrieking at the way her father had raised his voice once more. "it's from Vanahiem," Sigyn implored her family to see.

"Vanahiem?" Lord Arn's thick red and gray eyebrows quirked in confusion at the young blonde woman's words. "Why do you have it?"

"it was given to me," Sigyn's pink lips mumbled once more. "By Lady Jane, but it was given to lady Jane, by Lady Dagmar Audricdottir before she died in the attack on Asgard," Sigyn explained breathlessly.

Bright liquid gold pupils watched as her parents exchanged questioning glances between one another. "Perhaps the Vanir have knew of the attack before hand?" the ex-admiral rationalized as he put his forefinger and thumb to his chin in deep thought.

"They have many great seers," his pretty, golden-haired wife spoke up from behind him. "It is very possible," Sigyn's mother nodded along. "Perhaps they sent word to Lady Dagmar telling her of what they had seen. They could have known of away to the defeat the Dark-Elves, but Lady Dagmar didn't receive the letter in time," Lady Arn devised. Her eyes that were a bright sky blue lit up with the thought. "Arn if you took this back to the palace you could help them defeat our enemies. Why'd you be a war hero once more! All of Asgard would be indebted to you," the mistress of the house of Arn declared excitedly. "Surely Odin would restore your commission as an admiral," she expressed. Sigyn watched her mother and father and even her older sister exchange ambitious glances.

"Asgard shall be saved by my hand," he began to boast. The burly, bearded Viking warrior began to envision himself being paraded down the glittering, golden streets of Asgard upon a regal looking all white stallion as multicolored streamers and confetti floated down from the tops of the palaces and windows of the mansions. He could hear the bugles and trumpets playing, the crowd cheering wildly for him as he made his way to the palace atrium. The all-father would be standing there beaming at him. He would reward him handsomely, placed a crest around his neck. Queen Frigga would plant kisses on his cheek, tears streaming down her face as words of esteem and gratitude would tumble from her gracious lips. Prince Thor would bow to him to show him honor once Thor bowed, all the crowd in the atrium would follow. His heart swelled as he saw the people of Asgard bowing before him. His heart beat faster as the excitement a pride welled up inside. "Sigyn, give me that scroll!" Admiral Arn demanded as he reached out his calloused hand for the piece of parchment. Lady Sigyn batted her eyes a bit taken a back by her father's abrupt request. Lady Sigyn shook her head. "Sigyn, give it here. And I will deliver it to the Imperial Palace for you," he stated trying to sound gentler.

Her honey colored hands curled protectively around the scroll. She once again clutched it toward her heart. "Father, no you don't understand," Sigyn replied to wagging her head. "This...this...this scroll is for the eyes of the royal family only," she insisted. "Lady Dagmar," she said as she shook her head still protectively clutching scroll. 'Lady Dagmar made a specific request that I deliver it to the royal family...it...it was her dying wish," the maiden with the long blonde hair explained as her breath hitched.

"Sigyn! Give it to your father!" Lady Arn ordered. "She just told you to do so because she was dying, it makes no difference now who gives it to the royal family" her mother started to fuss marching toward Sigyn to take the scroll.

"It is not what you think it is," Sigyn continued to insist as she guarded the scroll. She wagged her head vigorously as she pressed the scroll against her heart and pressed her back against the banister. Sigyn's pulse quickened. She could feel the pressure from her family wanting to know more about this mysterious scroll. They were looking at her like she was insane. "It's private! It's personal!" she retorted.

Admiral Arn's brows knitted together tightly until they formed one angry red line across his forehead. His mixed gray and red mustache curled downward as his lips formed a snarl. "After all the pain and suffering you have caused me, now you dare try to deny me my one chance at redeeming myself in front of the all-father and all of Asgard," he growled. His gold eyes looked wild, nearly feral as they flickered to look down at the scroll one last time. "Have you no sense of family honor!" the sea captain fumed as his powerful hands formed boulder like fist and he raised them in the air as if he was set to clobber something. "For over a century I haven't been able to show my face in the Imperial City. I have been labeled the father of a harlot. Your sister lost half of her prospects because of your filthy ways. I'll not tolerate anymore of your dishonor," the red-bearded admiral's voice was seething, his breathing haggard and his shoulders heaving vehemently. His face was turning a violent shade of crimson and his amber eyes bulged out of their sockets as he beheld the scroll the ticket to his redemption and the salvation of Asgard.

"Father I mean you no disrespect, but as a lady-in-waiting...I...I couldn't give you something up that belongs to the royal family. It's...for...for...Lo-" she started and then stifled herself slamming her hand over her baby rosebud pink lips.

"What did you just say?" asked the ruddy viking, his voice a seething grumble.

"N-n-nothing?" Sigyn stammered a petrified look coming over her as she looked into her father's fiery eyes.

"Don't lie to me girl!" he roared as he became ruthless with fury. He pushed Sigyn back against the railing of the staircase. Lady Sigyn gasped as her spine collided with the polished wood of the banister. "Now tell me what is written on that scroll!" he demanded of her as he squeezed her soft forearms so forcefully that he caused her to whimper.

"The scroll isn't from a seer in Vanahiem" Sigyn confessed through pathetic gasping sobs.

"What are you talking about girl!" Lord Arn growled as he continued to put pressure on her tender, delicate limbs while also shoving her back against the wooden railing. Sigyn let out a pitiful groan as the intense pain shot through her back once more.

"Sigyn you just told us it as from Vanahiem," he mother chimed in.

"Itisitisisis," Lady Sigyn muttered through her sniveling, but-but," she stuttered as she composed herself, "it's from Vanahiem, but it's not from a seer, but a Vanir midwife,"

"Midwife?' her mother mumbled as she looked to her husband. "What business would a Vanir Midwife have with the royal family?" Lady Arn questioned aloud as she looked to her strong Viking husband. Arn's broad shoulders shrugged with confusion. "Sigyn, what's on the scroll?" her mother pressed.

"I don't know, Mother," Sigyn stated as she wiped the moisture from her eyes. It was the truth, she didn't know what the scroll said. She knew what she hoped it said, but she dare not peek. NO! No more! She'd learned her lesson, reading Lady Dagmar's letters had only caused pain. She hadn't completely forgiven herself for what had happened before when she'd read Lady Dagmar's scroll and allowed the love letter to fall into the wrong hands. She felt responsible for everything that had happened after that.

"Enough of this!" her father thundered as he stomped his heavy, booted foot. "Sigyn, even you aren't so much of a simpleton to run back to the Imperial City during this desperate time for nothing!" He proclaimed as he stalked down the steps to come face to face with his quivering daughter. The ex-admiral growled and showed his teeth. "I am not going to ask you again, Sigyn!" He spat. "What is on that scroll?" He demanded of her pointing his finger directly in her face.

"I honestly don't know, papa," Sigyn confessed once more. "I haven't opened it," she breathed. As Sigyn let her guard down for a moment finally breathing out the tension her father managed to snatch the parchment scroll from her hand. Sigyn gasped as her golden eyes darted around searching for where the scroll had vanished to. Her eyes zeroed in on her father's calloused mitts starting to unwrap the ribbon and unravel the letter. "FATHER NO!" Sigyn shrieked like she was in great pain. Arn froze, startled by Sigyn's screech. He turned slowly back toward his youngest daughter only to find the young handmaiden standing mouth gaping with the color trained from her bronzed cheek. She looked a fright as if she had seen a ghost. Sigyn's shoulders heaved, her heart pounded and she could scarcely breathe. "It's for Prince Loki," She finally blurted. The words tumbled from her pink lips so quickly that she had no time to filter or stifle herself. The words were now out and about in the atmosphere and they could not be sucked back in.

"Loki," the hardened admiral muttered through gritted teeth. He shut his eyes tight as he started to crumple the tiny piece of parchment with in his large fist. His voice had sounded low and foreboding like the rumble of distant thunder brewing on the ocean. With just the mention of the ex-prince's name Admiral Arn saw blood-red. He could feel his blood starting to boil. Every fiber of his being itched, ached and screamed to go berserk! He had only taken up the power of the Berserk-er Staff one time in his life, it had been during the heat of battle he'd watched one of his close friends fall from an ice-dagger being rammed through their gut. He'd grabbed the mystical staff without thought and all of a sudden he'd become a creature of rage. It had been dreadful and wondrous all at the same time having that type of power, adrenaline and stamina was what every warrior in Asgard dreamed of, but also being consumed by that level of malice it was indeed frightening. He had avoided the staff ever since, but the very mention of Loki made the captain want to scour the seas of the Nine Realms and find the Berserk-er Staff on to get it and lunge it through Loki's heart. That monster, that vile traitor, that criminal of the highest order had cost him everything.

'Loki?" Sigyn's mother mumbled as she wagged her head. "Loki hasn't talked to you since he broke off your betrothal," she reminded Sigyn in a staunch tone. "He has been imprisoned in the dungeons for nearly a year. No one has seen him." her mother stated matter-o-factually, "No one would send word to that vile creature. He should rot in the dungeons for the rest of his days,"

"But I...I...I have" Sigyn murmured her voice so low that she hoped her parents wouldn't hear.

Admiral Arn's ears were keen, "You have what?" he automatically responded.

"I...I...I have seen him," she whispered her reply, she dared to bring her golden eyes to glance up at her father.

"Sigyn!" Her mother shrieked grabbing her golden locks. "How could you go to that monster?" she inquired furiously shaking her head. "Loki!" she wailed. "Of all people!" she cried in horror. "Loki is a despicable being! Think of he has done on Midgard!" she implored as she gripped Sigyn by the shoulders. "Think of all he has done to you!" she pointed out searching her daughter's amber eyes to see if anything was dawning on her! The blue-eyed noblewoman was bewildered as she found that Sigyn didn't seem to show any sign of horror. He cost you everything, child! Everything!" Lady Arn urged. "Your father was imprisoned because of him! How could you? How could you?" the wife of the ex-admiral questioned in bewilderment. "Sigyn! Loki's punishment was solitary confinement for 500 years. Everybody knows that!" the blonde-haired gentlewoman declared as she slammed her fist into her palm. "Going down there..." she shook her head. "Sigyn, that's treason! You could be beheaded!" her mother stressed. "how could you?

"Because!" Sigyn shouted back. She was shocked at the way she yelled she hadn't meant to yell at her mother. "After Loki faced Magic Extraction, Queen Frigga she asked me...she asked me to tend to Loki while he was in the dungeons," Sigyn elaborated as best she could.

"Why would the queen ask you to do that! Loki was to face Magic Extraction for attempting to kill the queen!" Arn lashed out.

"What!" Sigyn looked up at her father, "No, father, you are wrong, Loki would never!" she insisted waving her hands in front of her face.

"Don't tell me what that maniac is capable of!" Admiral Arn shouted back. "He seized the throne of Asgard, he tried to conquer Midgard and he tried to destroy Jotunheim. Why would the Queen of Asgard send someone down to tend to him after all he had done?!" Arn demanded harshly as he pointed a scolding, thick finger in her face.

Sigyn shook her head, confused by her father's questioning, "Loki was blind, he was in agony, he couldn't even stand, he nearly died...he would have died..."

"And why would she care if that animal lived or died? He is a disgrace to the house of Odin!" he retorted.

"He is her son," Sigyn explained defiantly as she looked up at Arn. "You don't have to stop loving someone just because they have made mistakes, Papa," Lady Sigyn stated her golden eyes welling with tears. "I...I...I promise you that I will go back and marry Theoic, but also I promised Queen Frigga that I would tend to Loki, I promised Lady Jane that I would deliver the scroll to Loki. I have to honor those promises too, besides it could be Loki's last chance..."

WHACK! The admiral's calloused, hairy knuckles flew against Sigyn's face. Her head swiveled and her neck cracked. A stream of cherry liquid trickled from the bronzed skinned daughter's button nose and stained her dainty, delicate, pink lips crimson. "I am returning you to Lord Theoic come first light, Sigyn!" the ruddy captain promised. "And whether he take you as a wife or send you to a brothel, I never want to lay eyes on you again," he grunted as his boots stomped up the steps.

---

A frightful wind howled outside the narrow cave in Svartalhiem. The wind blew boisterously bring with it clouds of black ash as soot. The sand storm had been raging for nearly 24 hours keeping the small battalion of Einherjar confined inside the cavern. A huddled mass of wounded soldiers were on their sleeping cots lying next to a flickering flame in the back of the cave. Those who were stronger had formed a protective barrier around the mouth of the cave with rocks and barrels and blankets hoping to keep out the cold of the barren world and keep their fires ablaze. There were no trees in the Dark World. The desolate realm provided so little in means of resources, that the small troop had been forced to use the barrels, kegs and boxes for provisions as kindling.

"We need to do something!" declared the shield-maiden as she slammed her leather clad fist into a gloved palm and looked around at the other warriors around the fire pit at the entrance of the cave.

"What can we do, Sif," responded the pudgy ax-wielder. His shoulders were rounded as he picked at one of the last loaves of bread that they had backed. He had had a hearty meal, but the rations were wearing thin and most of the food had gone to the injured soldiers to help them keep up their strength. His stomach rumbled intently. He had always prepared himself to die in battle. It was the greatest way to enter into Valhalla and receive a heroes welcome and then join the other great warriors at the endless banquet table, but he couldn't bear the thought of dying of starvation. It would be such a miserable agonizing way to go.

Sif growled as she looked at he plump friend. "We can do more than just sit here and think of our stomachs, Volstagg!" she shot him a cruel glare with her harsh words. "Every minute that passes is one minute that brings us closer to Convergence!" she declared.

"Do not mistake my appetite for apathy!" He declared as he jumped into the warriors woman's face. "I think of all of us! I am concerned for every mouth here! We need food if we are to prevail!"

Lady Sif rolled her dark brown eyes. She rose to the challenge of her rotund comrade, springing to her feet as well. "We need more than just food, we need a plan of attack!" the brunette maiden announced leaning over into Volstagg's face. The chubby Einherjar's shoulders heaved in frustration. 'But you would know that," Sif egged on, "If you thought more with your head and less with your gut!" Sif insisted as she flicked forth calloused hand and banged on Volstagg's pot-belly.

Volstagg rumbled from his belly to his lips, his hairy knuckles were clenching into fists at his side. Hogun stood to his feet and stepped in between Lady Sif and the massive warrior. "Enough," the slant-eyes Einherjar ordered as he looked back and forth between the fearsome woman and the hungry soldier. "We must remain calm," he instructed gently as he placed his hands upon both of their shoulders. Volstagg's shoulders eased and slowly his breathing relaxed. Hogun generally had that effect on people. He was a warrior of great renown, known for his stealth and nerves of steel on the battlefield, but in his personal life Hogun was relaxed and steady.

"We can do nothing until this sandstorm ends, Sif," explained Sir Frandal as he pointed out side the cave. The heavy dust clouds, whipped fiercely about outside, blown by the strong winds. The storm had blotted out the ever eclipsing sun and moon of the Dark-World. "We wouldn't be able to cross the terrain out there in this," the swordsman went on. "The soot is so thick out their you wouldn't be able to see your hand in front of your face," he expressed as he gave a deep sigh. 'Going out there would be suicide!" he insisted.

"Lady Sif even if we could cross the dessert in the storm, we don't have the force to take on the Dark-Elves, we still have too many wounded," expressed one of the other soldiers seat around the small fire by the mouth of the cave.

The dark-eyed warrior woman shot the Einherjar an incriminating glare. Such defeatist language was not fit for a man who was labeled among the ranks of the most skilled warriors in all Asgard. The soldier sucked in his lips, not daring to speak another contradictory statement to Lady Sif. Sif glared a little while longer in the direction of olive skinned, sandy-haired recruit. Eventually the young man dropped his gaze. The brunette shield-maiden finally sighed. Those words wrung true in her ears and in her heart. They were a small battalion to begin with, but the battle had left their tiny force decimated. They had started out with only 50 men, but 5 had died in the heat of the skirmish 10 were so badly wounded that they could not stand and another 5, though able to walk were in no condition to take on the enemy. That left them with about 30 able bodied soldiers, but that wasn't nearly enough to overcome this foe especially now that they had the Aether on their side.

Even more concerning than their numbers of wounded and dead was the fact that their leader, Prince Thor was still very much weakened from the fight. He could hardly walk without stumbling and it was doubtful that he'd be able to carry Mjolnir into battle against they Dark-Elves this soon. Not that he wouldn't try, he was naturally relentless, and if it wasn't for a sedative incantation, that Loki had placed upon Prince Thor and rest of the injured men, Sif knew that Thor would be urging them to mount up and ride forth at this very moment.

Reflexively, Sif cast a glance toward the back of the gave toward where the eldest son of Odin lied amongst his wounded troops, his chest was exposed, it looked strong, and masculine with pecks bulging and his abdomen tight as a washboard, but his chest was also full of cuts and bruises. There were sore looking black and blue circles around his lungs. His ribs were bandaged and the bandages were oozing with thick red blood. His head was bound and wrapped in gauze as well. He had horrible knots on his head from the brutal beating he'd taken from the massive rocky hands of the Kursed. The warrior woman's heart crumpled as she looked at him. His handsome faces was still marred with scratches and scrapes and his right eyes was swollen and blackened. He looked so pitiful. She wanted to say that she had never seen him in such a bad way before. Of course there had been times when Thor had been injured in battle before, they all had been injured before, but somehow, this time was different. It was so much more serious. Even a day's set back from injury could have dire consequences for the entire realm of Asgard not to mention the Nine Realms.

She wanted to care for him. It was a strange feeling for Lady Sif to admit, even to herself. She had never been thought of as a nurturing woman. She supposed in all honesty she wasn't. She never played with dollies when she was a young girl. She preferred toy bows and arrows and tin figurines to plan battle strategies with. She had several pets growing up, but she didn't baby them as many noblewomen seemed to do. It was not uncommon for ladies of court to come to banquets and garden parties, with pooches and kitties in their arms, many daughters from wealthy families kept very expensive animals: tigers, rare birds, unicorns, even dragons. They treated their pets like spoiled children. Quite frankly Sif had always found such gestures disturbing. She had many pets, falcons, horses and hunting dogs and she even had a cat at one time, but the animals serves practical uses. She used her falcon and dogs for hunting. Her horse for riding and they tabby cat that she had was an excellent mouser. Naturally, she treated her animals kindly, but she didn't pamper the creatures as some women did. It was just silliness. She wasn't good when it came to working with children and no one ever thought of allowing her to hold a baby. Not that she truly wanted to. She'd much rather have practiced throwing a javelin than rocking a child to sleep. She was not soft on the new recruits to the Einherjar, that she trained. It wasn't that she had set out to be a hard nose when she was first asked to work in the basic training camps, but the young warriors had showed her such little respect that first time. They jeered at her, giving cat-calls, making innuendos behind her back. They slacked off because they expected her to be soft. They thought that they could get her to cut them slack, by batting blue eyes, faking injuries and illness. They soon found that Lady Sif had little sympathy for weakness. After that young men would pray not to have Lady Sif as their drill sergeant. Not that she wouldn't care for a fallen comrade. No true warrior of Asgard would ever leave a man behind. She'd cared for all of her friends when they'd become wounded on the battlefield. She'd dragged many to safety, Thor included, but as she saw him lying there, she wanted it to be different this time. She thought to go and tend him, but just as she was about to push her bottom off the uncomfortable rock that she had been seated on, but as she thought to do so she noticed, a thin tawny haired figure leaning over Prince Thor.

Sif watched intently as Lady Jane's careful hands swipe a cool rag over Thor's creased brow. Slowly, Thor's beautiful blue eyes started to flutter open. Jane leaned over into the golden prince's field of view. She saw how at first the oldest son of Odin's eyes merely batted as he tried to reacquaint himself with his surroundings. Bright, blue orbs rolled about like marbles in his eye sockets as he looked around at every nook and cranny of the cave. Jane's face looked pained a worried as she watched him. Her dry lips formed a frown. Finally, Thor managed to bring his eyes back up to meet hers. His eyes fluttered now with new realization, his fleshy lips lifted into a nearly ecstatic expression. "J-J-Jane," he mouthed his voice crackling.

"You're awake!" the human scientist exclaimed as she took one of her small hands and clasped one of Thor's big, strong, mallet-wielding ones, while her other hand gently caressed his sweat-soaked brow and the side of his cheek. The blonde-haired leader of the Einherjar nodded dully as he took in Jane's face. His right eye was nearly swollen shut from the clobbering he'd received at the hands of the Dark-Elf beast, but even with one eye damaged he could see her face, though, dirty, warn, worried and tired looking was no less lovely. Her wholesome, earthy beauty was a welcome sight, one of the last things he remembered was looking into the grizzly and gruesome mug of the Kursed. He did the best he could to flash her a winning smile all though his head pounded fiercely and the rest of his body was abominably sore. Still, he managed to lift his right arm and bring a quivering, thick and rouch pointer finger to ever so lightly brush her cheek and jaw. Jane bit her lip and clutched Thor's hand tightly bringing it up and pressing it against the side of her cheek. She let out a deep sigh of relief accompanied by an onslaught of happy tears. "You're awake," the auburn-haired astrophysicist uttered once more.

Thor nodded. His throat felt gravelly, "How long was I sleep?" he asked in a groggy, hoarse voice. He coughed and tried to clear his throat.

Jane pressed a tender finger to his lips, stilling him, "A little over 24 hours," she explained.

Thor's gorgeous sapphire pupils grew wide, "What!" he hollered although the thunder's voice was still gruff from disuse so his outburst wasn't very loud.

"it is ok," Jane Foster tried to insist as she brought her hands down on his shoulders to try and calm his down. Her efforts did little as Thor bucked and rocked beneath her hands.

"The men? The men? How are the men?" he inquired frantically.

"Most are alright," Jane explained trying to keep her voice even.

"Most?" Thor caught her drift his eyes intensified. "What day is it?' he wondered allowed. "The aether!" he called out. "Convergence...has Convergence taken place?" he questioned wildly.

"It's not yet Convergence," Jane assured him. She brought his blanket up to cover his chest. "Try to settle down," she cautioned.

The hulking, big Viking prince tossed and turned beneath the quilts and pelts until they fell off of him. He shot upright. "Settle down!" he protested. "No, no!" he expressed. "We've got to...we've got to get the Aether back, we've got to stop Malekith," he elaborated all at once becoming breathless as a severe pain shot through his rib, he winced.

"Thor, I don't think you are in any condition to fight," she stated as she looked him over. Loki had done his best to patch him up as he had done with all the injured, but the truth was that without a proper healer they wouldn't recover in time.

"I must fight!" the thunderer proclaimed. "All of Asgard... all of the realms..." he started as he shook his head, but then was cut off as he started to cough severely. His hand strayed to his side that ached with every spasm of cough. He was starting to bleed through the bandages. He noted the warm moist feeling on his finger tips as he touched his left side. He sighed as he calmed his coughing."The realms are counting on us," he explained as he looked up at her his eyes shinning.

"That bandaged need to be changed," Jane readily announced as she reached for the bloodied cloth. Thor grabbed her hands keeping her from her ministrations. "Thor please," Jane implored. "You need to build up your strength." she stated firmly. "You won't do Asgard much good if you are not fully recuperated. "You need to eat something, you haven't eaten in nearly a day... and you need to have this wound dressed," she reminded him.

"I have to..." he started to contradict. "I can't just lay here recovering while Ragnarok crotches at our doorstep!" the hammer barrier fussed. "My troops need me and Asgard needs me...I won't let them down," he kept on insisting fighting to sit up.

Jane released a pint up sigh of frustration. She didn't really understand things like Ragnarok, but she was realizing that there were many things that she did not understand and that didn't make them any less grave. "You are right," she relented. Thor was actually shocked. He didn't think that in all the time he knew her she had said those words. Jane was a fiery woman, much like Sif, but in a different way, whereas Sif never let up in battle Jane never revoked her ideas. It was the same kind of thrill he got when Loki would admit that he was right, but needless to say he could count the number of times that had happened on one hand. He wondered if it would be the same tally with Jane. "They need you, I need you too," she reminded him. "But we all need you strong and healthy. You have to regain your strength and that means you have to eat something first!" she commanded pointing a scolding finger at him and her light brown eyebrows knit together sternly.

Thor flashed her a playful smile. "I like this side of you, healer Foster," the handsome prince teased. "So forceful and commanding," he elaborated as he breathed deeply and allowed his body to fall back on his mat. "Good qualities for a future queen of Asgard," he expressed.

Lady Jane started to blush, she tucked a straying auburn strand behind her ear. "Just eat your soup," she joked as she pulled the bowl of stew made from the rations on to her lap and ladled the spoon toward Thor's mouth.

Jane could feel warm, chocolatey eyes staring at her. She turned around and looked, but she didn't notice anyone looking at her until she turned toward the fire where a few of the more able bodied warriors of Asgard were gathered around. There she noted the sole female warrior had been looking right at her. Her brown eyes were narrowed and her cherry lips had formed a severe crease as she looked on the pair with jealousy. Anger flared inside the lady Einherjar, even after she boldly confessed her love to him he hadn't even reciprocated her feelings. Se had thought, just by chance, maybe...maybe...maybe if she just blurted it out...laid her feelings on the line so to speak that Thor would be forced to confront his own feeling for her. She thought that it would dawn on the golden prince that he did have feeling for her. He'd scoop her up in his thick, masculine arms and kiss her til her head spun, but of course that didn't happen. Rather he looked at her as if she had two heads and only muttered on and on about his love for the flimsy, but rather attractive mortal woman.

*************************************************************************It hurt to see them together. It was painful to see the way Jane stroked and played in his long, blonde locks. It was torture to look at the sweet and affectionate gaze reflected in his gorgeous blue eyes as he beheld her. It was torture to the shield-maiden. She couldn't look at the lovey-dovey pair any longer, quickly Sif averted her mahogany eyes. She frantically searched for something else to look at. Her eyes landed on a sleek, onyx haired figure crouching over one of the more injured soldiers. She saw Loki's hands glowing with green light as he rubbed his hands over as soldiers wounded torso.

"Why doesn't he do something," Sif grumbled to herself more so than to the group although they all heard her. They followed Sif's eyes and saw the was staring right at the disgraced and disowned once prince of Asgard. All of their eyes constricted with suspicion and distrust as they looked at the raven-locked enchanter looming over the wounded warriors. Loki heard Lady Sif's comment as well.

His shoulders that were rounded as he labored over trying to stabilize one of the Einherjar, stiffened as he heard the whispers that literally took place behind his back. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist training all the blood from his fingertips until his knuckles were white as snow. The soldier he was working his simple spell on was trembling something fierce. The wound was starting to fester. Although, Loki had done his best to use his powers to try and keep the wounds on the soldiers clean, the truth of the matter was that the cave was far from a sterile environment. It was dirty and grimy and drafty and with so many of the men down the medicine that they had packed were running thin. Loki waved his glowing lime-green palm over as pus filled laceration on the soldier's right side. He managed to pull the nasty and putrid smelling pus from his side and disposed of it in a bucket. He pressed his hands toward the soldiers forehead sedating him enough so that he could drift into a deep sleep.

Once done trying to ease the symptoms of the warrior Loki marched over toward the bonfire, where lady Sif and the Warriors Three sat around holding counsel. "Roric has gangrene," Loki announced stoically as he appeared silently behind Lady Sif and wiped his hands on a wet towel to cleanse them. "And he is not the only one," the midnight-coiffed magician continued to relay, "many of the men's wounds are infected and badly so," he conveyed.

The brunette warrior maiden growled low in her throat. Immediately, she leaped to her feet and spun around in Loki's face. "Well why don't you do something to help them, then!?" she shot back her anger over flowing. Loki had been left in charge of caring for the battle-scarred warriors, but Jane didn't trust it. She had no trust for Loki. For all she knew he was poisoning them right in front of their eyes.

"And what more would you have me do Sif!" Loki instantly retorted his tone was clipped and curt. His demeanor was calm and relaxed in comparison to Lady Sif's temper which was flaring fiercely. "I have been the one laboring over each and everyone of our men," he pointed out. It was true. Loki had done an incredible job in helping to heal and patch up the injured men. Once Loki had been relieved from taking the first watch a night or two back he had taken to tending to the men who'd been stabbed and maimed in battle, of course he wasn't the only one, each Einherjar pitched in to help with their fellow soldiers, but Loki worked tirelessly, of all of them he knew the most about medicine. He set the broken bones in makeshift splints, numbed pain of broken ribs and battered limbs, and stitched up wounds, quickly and quietly and effectively. He kept the men sedated and comfortable so that they weren't in excruciating pain and were able to rest and recover as quickly as possible. He divided up the tonics and potions so that they had enough to go around. He instructed Lady Jane in how to change the wrappings and bandages and which ointments to apply to which injuries. He had worked diligently with the men for nearly as 2 days time without ceasing. After so much endless toil, Loki looked weary and waned. He had only had a few hours of sleep each night for nearly two nights. He had hardly taken time to eat. There rations were wearing thin and the injured men needed to use most of the food to build up their strength. His thin face looked even more skinny than usual and their were deep, dark circles and bags under his green eyes. A thin sheen of perspiration was plastered across his porcelain face. It was only just now that how tired he was was catching up to him and he was starting to feel the gnawing nauseating pangs of hunger. His pale hands clenched his hand around his gut as he felt his stomach rumble and proceeded to join the Warriors Three, Lady Sif and a few other soldiers around the small fire.

Loki slipped his lean body in between Lady Sif and Volstagg. It was a tight squeeze even for thin Loki. Volstagg took up a lot of space. Volstagg tossed Loki one of the barley biscuits and passed him a steaming bowl of the venison broth. Loki took the offered meal with gratitude, he immediately dug in although it wasn't much it was at least something to satisfy his aching, empty belly. All the while Sif cringed as she was forced to sit next to the likes of that filthy, varmint. "They aren't your men!" she mumbled through gritted teeth while clenching her gloved hands into furious fists and slamming her bowl of now lukewarm stew down on the cave floor and turning toward Loki.

"Come again?" The ex-prince asked with refinement as he dug his little finger into his ear and cleaned it out before turning slowly to face the fuming shield-maiden as he settled his own bowl on his lap.

Sif squeezed her eyes shut and slammed her iron clad fist against her knees, "We aren't your men!" she instantly barked back at Loki. "No man, here owes allegiance to you, you disgusting worm!" the brown eyed woman reminded the green eyed mage coldly and without remorse as she pointed to the soldiers around the fire. None of the men offered a qualm. It was truth she spoke no one felt in the slightest bit loyal the black-haired war criminal, but their duty to Asgard and the eldest son of Odin had kept all of them from doing to Loki as they wished. Her temper rose quickly, causing her nostrils flare violently with the declaration. The very thought of owing duty to Loki sickened her to her core. Once she had owed Loki such loyalty. He was a prince of Asgard and although she and Loki had always had a number of differences she had been willing to risk her life to protect any member of the house of Odin. Now she cringed at the thought of giving her sword to that vile monster "We are Thor's men!" she told him flat out as her chestnut eyes narrowed and tried to burrow lasers into his soul. What infuriated her all the more about the, slimy traitor was that he seemed to never flinch under her gazes. Her gazes had been known to break men.

Emerald eyes glared back back with the same amount of bitterness and rage that Sif held in hers. They held each others condemnatory and resentful stares in a stalemate match. Finally, it was Loki who broke the standoff of deadly glowers and iron wills. He rolled his jade orbs. Sly, little grin slithered over his keen features. "Still fancy yourself one of the boys, don't you, Sif," the silver-tongue Asgardian smirked.

"More of a man than you," the strong shield-maiden immediately retorted. A chorus of oohs, ouches and snickers. It was the same type of petty insults that Sif had used to humiliate him since he was a youth. Loki's faint grimace went undetected. The childish revilement was like a scratch made to on an already hardened and calloused scab; it didn't hurt it was merely irritating. She always intentionally tried to shame and cuckold him in public and in front of mixed company, to take up for times when he pointed out the buffoonery of Thor and the Warriors Three and at times even her. He loathed her for her blatant disrespect of him. Such remarks had made him as youngster, a shy, insecure and twiggy boy, burn red in the face like a tomato and slink off into the shadows from shame.

Loki was now able to shrug off the rough and tumble viking woman's remarks, he replaced his slightly embarrassed grimace with a seamless sly grin, "You are right, Sif," he conceded. Lady Sif blinked, thrown off slightly by the silver-tongue's admittance to the truth of her taunting. "Too bad Thor agrees with your statement wholeheartedly," he added just out of spite as he tossed a quick wink for effect.

She let out a growl and without a moments hesitation her left hand reached up to grab Loki around the fringe of his leathery collar, pulling silver-tongued trickster toward herself. Her right hand wasted no time in straying to the cool silver hilt of her dagger and quick as a flash she raised it toward Loki's milky white throat. She pointed the tip of his dagger at his protruding Adam's Apple. She knew Loki's words to be all too true. It was painful. For years she had striven to be the equal to any man and now in the eyes of the one man that she wanted to impress that's all she would ever be. It was painful and ironic and Loki had just rubbed salt in an already excruciating and gaping wound. "Why you slimy snake!" Sif started with a growl. "Make no mistake Loki," she hissed, "My offer to kill you still stands," she reminded him,

"Killing me won't rid you of your biggest problem, Sif," Loki cautioned wide green plastered on porcelain features.

"Grrrr," Lady Sif rumbled. "Wanna bet!" the shield-maiden dared as she pressed the tip of the knife deeper into the creamy flesh near his Adam's Apple.

"There's no need to gamble, Sif" Loki said with a dismissive shrug as he nimbly plucked Lady Sif's calloused fingers from the tender leather of his collar. He then rubbed his fingernails against the side of his velvet surcoat. "You can cut my throat, but that does little to take care of your real enemy" Loki stated sly as his tilted his raven-coiffed head back ever so slightly and rolled his vivid emerald eyes gesturing toward the short, auburn haired scientist hovering over Prince Thor like a careful and attentive nursemaid. Sif's eyes followed Loki's to gazing upon the mortal, Jane Foster and Thor. The latter was still lying on his cot, weakened from the fight, but Jane was still caring for him like a doting mother hen, fanning him and wiping his brow with a cool cloth, ladling heaping helpings of hearty broth into Thor's eager lips and smiling down at him fondly. She watched as Jane dipped her head down and planted a quick, but passionate kiss on Thor's lips. Her gut flip-flopped from disgust and her heart sank low into her chest. All the while though unconsciously Sif continued to press her knife deeper into Loki's milky white throat. Her brown eyes were starting to moisten at the sight as it tore another tear into her soul. She turned from them and her glistening chestnut pupils met with Loki's and the once son of Odin gave a satisfied smirk

"Why if it wasn't for Thor I would Cut you down without a second thought!" she roared.

"Always the charmer, Sif," Loki sighed as he rolled his eyes. "But then you'd be stuck in the Dark World forever," Loki remarked flippantly tossing a porcelain hand in the air as he started to walk away from the brunette.

Lady Sif gritted her teeth and let out a rumble as she started to stalk behind the raven-haired enchanter. "You've probably trapped us here on purpose you cowardly serpent!" she spat.

"Sif that's enough," Frandal finally spoke up as he grabbed Lady Sif around her narrow shoulder and pulling her back, seeing that the dark-haired female Einherjar was ready to make good on her threats. Sif swung around to face the blonde swordsman, her eyes glaring daggers into him and her teethed bared. "Loki's done a lot," the fair maned warrior reported. Sif looked back at her friend with repulsion shining through her mahogany eyes. The emerald eyes traitor eyed the fencer with curiosity and confusion. He hadn't expected anyone to take up for him. Not that he needed their defense, but still it was surprising.

All of a sudden a strange feeling started to flicker in his stomach. It was a strange tingly sort of sensation that he had grown unfamiliar with. But it had occurred before in similar surroundings like tonight with Thor's friends gathered around a warm fire. Sometime it occurred in front of a fireplace in a tavern or inn, other times around as open flame out in the woulds, oft time it was in front of the golden hearth inside the palace. They'd be swapping stories of battle, or planning the next move in battle. He and Lady Sif would start to bicker. Normally the result was him attempting to storm off. Most of the time the group let him, but every now and then a hand would catch his narrow shoulder and tell him not to take things so to heart. It was easier said that done, but then a proffered glass of wine and an easy smile were enough to cool his brooding spirits for a moment and allow him to remain with the group. He recalled the feeling well enough now...camaraderie. Loki slowly shut his eyes and inhaled the exhaled sharply through his narrow nose, trying to dispel the familiar and fond emotions. That was long ago now...ages ago.

"How can you..." Sif started bitterly. Lady Sif kept her eyes glaring at Frandal "And for all his labor no one has improved!" Lady Sif pointed out with a roll of her eyes back toward the onyx haired traitor.

The once son of Odin's eyes went wide as his blood started to boil. "And what do expect me to do just pull a cure out of osmosis!" he yelled back furiously at the shield-maiden slamming his fist into his palm. "We have few provisions, for medicine and there are no resources for me to make a tonic here on Svartalhiem," Loki protested back.

"Excuses, excuses," Sif taunted. "You brag of your powers, but such powers haven't made anyone well!" the brunette continued to sneer.

"I have never claimed to be a healer, Sif" Loki snapped back lack of sleep and food made him less tolerant of the shield-maidens blame-shifting.

Lady Sif guffawed like a horse and rolled her eyes, "Oh we all know that!" the warrior woman spat. "You haven't done any good for anybody, let alone heal them!" she shouted furiously

"Sif," Sir Volstagg raised his voice in protest with his mouth full of the last bits of mutton. "Now that's not fair," the portly viking grumbled as crumbs flew from his lips. He quickly wiped the bread crumbs from his thick, curly, red beard and mustache. "I mean," he started to speak up. He felt awkward defending Loki. Like Sif, Volstagg still bore a terrible grudge toward the once second prince of Asgard, but at the same time he couldn't deny what Loki had done. "If it wasn't for Loki," he admitted as he took a gulp and thickly swallowed the food in his mouth. "Well..." he continued, he regretted having to say it, he didn't want to give the slippery eel any words of praise, but he supposed they were due him. "If it wasn't for Loki going back out on to the battle-field...well..." the fat red-head warrior mumbled. "Thor could be dead," he finally blurted out as he brought his eyes to face Sif's.

Volstagg wasn't a liar. She new the plumpest of the soldiers spoke truth. She wanted to come back with a snappy remark against the esteem that he'd dropped on Loki, but their was nothing to be said against it. She hated Loki because of how he betrayed all of Asgard, she hated him for all the evil he'd brought upon the innocent realm of Midgard, she hated him because he'd betrayed Thor, she hated him because he'd caused all of them to suffer by mourning him when he wasn't even dead. She'd she'd tears for that trickster and she did not shed tears easily, but he'd wasted her tears. She was a warrior of Asgard and she could never get those tears back, but for all the malice she bore toward him...he had saved Thor's life and she could find no fault in him for that. Bitterly, the shield-maiden was forced to hang her head ever so slightly in shame and hold her tongue.

"And if it wasn't for Loki we wouldn't have even gotten to the Dark-World," Hogun chimed in.

"And if it wasn't for him none of us would have had to come here in the first place!" Sif growled back finally having the ammo that she'd been waiting for to fire back at the pale, green-eyed magician. "If you would have just helped when you were asked!" the brown haired warrior yelled. "Then none of this would have happened! Then none of those men would have died!" she proclaimed. "The all-father wouldn't be lying in Oversleep!" she continued to rant, "Ragnarok would not be snarling at our doorstep!" Sif's accused. "And then...then," the brown eyed warrior panted furiously as she made sure to look Loki square in his emerald eyes. She wiped her brow and flipped her hair back as she narrowed her gaze. "Then Dagmar would not have died!" she spat ruthlessly. She said it. She said it in part just to get a rise from Loki. She had cared for Lady Dagmar greatly, she was one of only a handful of women Lady Sif had ever truly called friends. Now she was dead and as far as Lady Sif was concerned Loki might have well have stabbed the woman in the back for how she blamed him for what had happened.

Loki's emerald eyes grew wide, his already porcelain face drained of all color, his thin lips rippled in a feral growl. How dare she mention Dagmar to him now. "How dare you!" the porcelain skinned magician rumbled in a hoarse and emotional voice as he shot to his feet and Lady Sif did the same. They were standing eye to eye, toe to toe. Loki instantly, gripped lady Sif around her thin wrist. His move was quick and tight, a hold that the female warrior could not easily overcome, it was a grip set to snap the wrist if the opponent tried to get out of it. Sif could feel the pressure from Loki's bony white fingers pressing against the bone. He dug his too long nails into her flesh, pushing through even the leather straps that she had wrap around her wrist. Sif reared back a brass knuckled fist and aimed it toward Loki's face.

"Sif!" Thor's hoarse voice called from behind her. "Enough," he rasped as he came staggering toward the uncivil pair with the help of Lady Jane. He limped toward them very slowly. "Enough," the blonde shook his head and coughed as he sluggishly managed to pull his arm from around Jane's shoulder and attempted to stand on his own feet. Jane looked concerned for him as he started to walk by himself. He had not stood in over two days time, but Thor couldn't take lying down and being incapacitated much longer, not when he knew his troops needed him. "Leave Loki be," he insisted with a huffing sort of breath as he lumbered.

Frandal and Volstagg got up from their seats upon the cave rocks and offered them to their good friend as they heard his labored footfalls lumbering forward.. Thor raised his hand at first in refusal, but with each passing step he felt a little more tired. The muscular blonde who was roughly the size of a barge swayed on his feet. Jane rushed from behind to help him and Sif, Volstagg, Frandal and Hogun all stood to their feet to catch him should he falter. Despite himself the black-sheep of the group found his hand reflexively straying to reach out and catch the prince he had once called his brother. Loki noted his outstretched ivory fingers, he looked at them and studied them curiously wondering what in the world they were doing. He cleared his throat before he pulled his fingers back in and shoved them into the folds within his surcoat nonchalantly.

"Thor, You should be resting," Sif instructed. She was no healer, but she knew the severity of Thor's injuries, the Kursed wasn't released by their enemies to maim, he was sent to kill. He'd been thwarted but he still had dealt deadly blows to the crown prince of Asgard.

"I can't rest," the crown prince announced to one of his most trusted warriors and friends. He continued to hobble toward the group soldiers all still finishing the last of the rations that were allotted for the journey. "How could anyone rest with all this bickering going on," he said cantankerously as he shot the brown-eyed warrior woman a steely gaze.

Lady Sif dropped her eyes and bowed her head momentarily. She was not any way ashamed of the things she had said to Loki, despicable as those words had been she had meant every, last one of them. Still, she did feel some level of guilt at disturbing Thor while he had been resting and trying to recover. Lady Sif looked back up instantly, she was never one to drop her eyes like a shamefaced little girl or a demure and dainty maiden. "Thor...I..." she started to defend the racket that she had made. Didn't he realize how loud she had been, but she had always been loud. Still, she never wanted to disturb Thor. Hadn't he known that all the things she'd said had been for his own good? She said those things to protect him? She said those things because she loved... The thought of those feelings made a lump form in her throat. She swallowed dryly and it was almost painful to do so. She swallowed down her feelings...she supposed that didn't matter now. She had to clench her fist by her side to keep from blurting out all that was in her heart.

Prince Thor limped forward a few more steps before reaching one of the free rocks around the bonfire. Frandal and Volstagg helped to lower their fearless leader into a sitting position. He smiled up at his friends in thanks. He was passed a bowl of hearty and steamy venison broth to the Prince of Asgard. Thor supposed he didn't need anymore food, Jane has just fed him until his stomach was full and warm, but the smell of his favorite stew was too tempting to pass up; he started to gobble down the contents with gusto. "Loki has done good work," the golden-haired son of Odin commended the fair-skinned mage between delicious bites. He lowered the spoon back into the thick brown broth and let out a pent up sigh. He now realized that such commendations were a thing that he had done all too infrequently. Loki had always done good work, he'd always fought hard, always put his life on the line when the time called for it and yet he'd gotten so little honor for it in all these years. Thor felt ashamed. He'd had many days since Loki's supposed death to look back on his ways and see the careless things he'd done to his brother in the past. He'd seen how he'd been such a glory hound. It wasn't that he'd meant to be, but it was just so easy to accept the accolades of others without sharing the spotlight his misunderstood younger sibling. "If it wasn't for him...we wouldn't have gotten this far," Prince Thor continued to praise, casting a glance to the scrawny, raven-haired man he'd once called his brother.

He offered Loki a faint, but hopeful smile. So much of his faith in Loki had been shattered, Loki had done so many terrible, wicked and even unspeakable things. He'd looked in on his brother time and time again throughout the year of his imprisonment and with each passing day he had slowly had no longer been able to recognize Loki. Loki was a far cry from the boy Thor had once known, the brother he'd grown up with, the man he considered his best friend for nearly a millennium.

But in this little venture Thor was starting to see hints of the old Loki returning. He was starting to believe that the funny, bright, compassionate young man that he'd always known was still in him...somewhere. He'd seen it! He'd seen it in the way he wept openly at Lady Dagmar's funeral, he'd seen it is his willingness to help Asgard in her darkest hour. He felt it in the way his brother's hands gripped him up and pulled him off the battlefield. The way that he was using his powers to help the wounded soldiers. Surely this was a sign of a turn for the better. Maybe this had been all Loki truly needed like Mother had told him, a chance to prove himself. "He save my life," Thor confessed in a whisper as he glanced up at the jade eyed mage of Asgard who once shared the name Odin-son with him. Thor felt pride in saying it. Saying that his brother saved his life. It was such a familiar and comfortable statement. It was certainly more welcome than saying "Loki sent the Destroyer to attack me and our friends," or "Loki's going to unleash the power of the Bifrost to destroy Jotunheim," or "Loki's on Midgard causing havoc!" It felt good to be on the same side again, to not be enemies, but rather to be a team once more fighting a common enemy.

Thor hated having to count Loki as his foe, he hated having to totter between restraint and rage when they fought. Loki was ruthless when they had fought. Thor could feel how he released all his pent up and venom and rage and bitterness with every blow. He fought like he wanted to hurt him, maybe even like he wanted to kill him. But Thor had tried to hold himself back, which had always been a difficult task in the heat of battle when adrenaline was coursing through his veins, but he did his best because he never wanted to hurt, Loki, his brother. Of course there had been moments when he could feel himself ready to raise Mjolnir and bring it down in a death blow upon Loki's head, (like when Loki had tricked him on the Rainbow Bridge or when Loki had smashed his head against the glass in New York or after he stabbed him) but then quick as a flash Loki's angry snarl would transform into an impish smile full of teeth laughing at his own mischief, clenched fist would look like open palms ready to give a welcoming slap on the back and somehow the venomous words that Loki would be spewing would become light-hearted quips and mild insults exchanged between close companions. He'd see Loki, not Loki the villain, but Loki, his little brother and he'd let his guard down and lower his hammer. Only for it to result in a swift kick to the jaw and daggers jabbed at his side. Thor side shaking the thoughts of Loki's constant betrayal from his head because for a the first time in a long time...it felt like they were brother's again.

How Thor had longed for that feeling. Since the moment Loki had let go of Gungnir Thor had felt the void from his brother's absence. He longed to talk to Loki once again, not a prince ordering about a prisoner, but as brother. He wanted to tell him about Jane. Tell him about how he felt about her, how much he loved her and how he wanted Loki to love her too. How his approval of Jane would have meant so much. He wondered if they could ever be that way again.

Thor looked up once more at Loki. Loki had been avoiding his gaze throughout most of the compliments. His eyes had darted around the cave, looking at the stalagmites and stalactites and at his chilly, white palms and into the flickering flame, finally he could feel Thor's soft gaze upon him. The tenderness was unnerving. It made the once prince's skin crawl. He couldn't take it any longer, he turned around. Their eyes met.

Thor's sapphire eyes were ever guileless. The poor oaf ever wore his heart on his sleeve. For all Thor's bravery, strength and prowess in battle he never seemed to realize how completely vulnerable he ever made himself. He always showed his weakness right through his baby blue peepers. Loki could see into Thor's soul just by peering into his eyes. In them he could see the eager, steadfast and incredibly gullible man that was always there. Ever hopeful and ever so stupidly trusting. He almost pitied Thor for his foolishness.

For a moment as he looked at his brother Thor thought he saw emerald eyes sparkling with laughter and impishness and shrewd understanding, but just before Thor could confirm what he saw, Loki avert his gaze.

"Thor is right," the almond eyed Einherjar announced slowly, "Loki has gotten us this far," Hogun acknowledge and proceeded to raise a canteen slightly warm ale toward the Loki. What was even more surprising was that the other warriors around the fire seemed to be joining Hogun, the Grim in the toast. It happened and a sluggish pace. The warriors all looked at each other with a little bit of hesitation wondering if they should be raising their mugs and canteens to such a ruthless villain like Loki. It was Thor's following in the slant-eyed warriors gesture that gave the assurance that everyone needed. Their cups slowly trickled upward.

Loki watched as rusty cups, cans and mugs were lifted toward him. He tried to be impassive, to keep a cool, stoic figure unmoved but such offers of sentiment. But he couldn't suppress the warm glow that started to rise in his chest. He scarcely recognized it first. It was a small and faint feeling at first, but it refused to be ignored. It started to swell, like the billows that rolled in off the seashore. At first it was just trickling over his toes, but soon it was rising, engulfing his ankles, knees, waist and then it was a wave that rose all the way up to his chest. Was it pride? He knew pride. He had a lot pride, but this was not the same pride that he normally carried about him so highly. That pride was easy to identify and recognize. That was the pride that made him lash out at the small handful of people who actually cared for him. This wasn't the pride that kept him from telling his mother how much he missed her when he first had seen her beautiful face. Or the pride that made him reject Sigyn, even though she had been good and kind and faithful. This wasn't the same kind of pride that made him lie and tell Lady Dagmar that he didn't care about the child that they had conceived when that was the furthest thing from the truth. This was the type of pride that other people give to you because they take pride in you.

This was the type of pride he'd searched for so much of his life. He'd tried so long to make different people proud...Father...no Odin...Frigga...no Mother...Thor...his tutors and professors...all of Asgard. For so long it had eluded him, like a crafty fox in the woods. He caught glimpses of it, perhaps there had been a few fleeting moments when he had actually obtained it before, but whenever it seemed it was just within his reach it would duck and weave out of sight and send him on a frantic search once more. Perhaps the few moments when he had it should have been enough, but it hadn't been.

But still, somehow in this moment, in a dismissal cave on Svartalhiem Loki felt the glimmer of esteem he had always desired as a few measly canteens and tin cups were raised toward him. The simple gesture of honor was enough to make Loki rethink his dark plans. For one fleeting second he regretted every evil intention he'd schemed. He looked at the face around the bonfire; good honest faces of brave warriors who were willing to do anything to keep their families, homes and realm safe. His emerald eyes darted down to look at Thor. The blonde prince's eyes were still swollen and black and blue from his fight with the Kursed, yet through them shone hope, trustfulness and gratitude. The raven-haired mage closed his milky white eyelids and swallowed a sentimental lump that was starting to form in his throat. How could he actually go through with it all? He felt his eyes growing moist. He squeezed his eyelids shut tighter not allowing any liquid to escape from his jade pupils. He shook himself from such thoughts. Of course he would go through with it. This puny display of some regard was too little, too late and did nothing to make amends for the slights he'd been dealt. Besides, he'd come to far, there was no way to stop what had already been set in motion. There was no going back...even if he wanted to. Which he didn't. He was so close to having all he had ever wanted to having the throne, the accolades they power, the unlimited power. That was what he wanted besides he made a deal with Thanos and there was but one way out of such a deal and that was a price he didn't want to pay.

"And now what are we to do!" Lady Sif finally interrupted before a proper toast could even be made. Loki's severe lips curled into a grimace as he watched as the eyes of the Einherjar turned from him and focused on the brunette shield-maiden as they lowered their drinking vessels back down to their laps. "Malekith has control of the Aether and there are only a few days until Convergence!" Sif pointed out!

"We could return to Asgard and gather more men!" One soldier pointed out.

Thor shook his head to the suggestion. "Our wounded aren't strong enough to travel back through the portal," he expressed. "We have lost enough Asgardian lives," Thor stated with a deep sigh, "I don't want the blood of our people on my hands if I can help it," the blonde prince replied as his shoulders slumped with the thought of even more men dying. He felt Jane's steadying hand come and rest upon his shoulder. He smiled despite his anxiety as he felt her petite fingers tighten around his tense muscle. He reached his bronzed calloused hand back and patted her hand gently.

"But we can't just stay here!" One of the men blurted out.

"Those of us who are well enough have to seek out Malekith and his band and go and fight!" Lady Sif encouraged. "Perhaps we can over come their forces we have done it before. We have bested many a foe with fewer men than this," she boasted.

The Warriors Three started to harken to Lady Sif's voice. It brought them back to times when they had slain Orcs just the 5 of them. Oh the mighty feast they had had that day.

"Don't be foolish!" Loki spat. "With Malekith in possession of the Aether there will be no stopping him,"

The shield-maiden turned up her nose, "Spoken like a true coward," he condemned. "But some of us would rather face death on the battlefield and die as warriors than sit here shivering in a cave like cowering mice! We shall die with honor if we must die today," she insisted.

"And who will honor you?" Loki questioned. "All will perish if Malekith is allowed to unleash the power of the Aether and bring forth Ragnarok!" The ex-prince continued.

There was a moments pause. Thor knew that Loki spoke truth and he suspected all the company did. With Malekith in possession of the Aether there would be no way their small band could overcome him, but at the same time they could not simply give up and wait for Ragnarok. They had to fight for Asgard and for all the realms. They were the only ones standing between the Nine Realms and the apocalypse. Maybe they could not escape fate, but they most certainly didn't have to accept fate lying down.

After a few moments of a few more warrior throwing forth their opinions, Loki spoke up. "I have a plan," he simply stated. His articulate words rising over the squabbling of soldiers that sounded like fighting boars. The silver-tongues quiet statement managed to quell the unruly Einherjar. Loki watched as the eyes of the soldiers shifted toward him. He inhaled sharply, squared his shoulders and tucked his hands behind his back. "I think I know where they Dark-Elves have headed to," he explained.

"How?' Sif immediately interjected, "they vanished into thin air,"

"If you would have taken time to study our enemy, Sif," Loki spoke curtly, "You would have noticed that we fought them at the location where they made their last stance against our forefather. It would seem natural that they would retreat to their stronghold city, Ichabod," the silver-tongued ex-prince explained.

"Or," Lady Sif interjected. "They could be looming over the Imperial City planning their next attack!" she urged to Thor.

"No, I don't think so," Loki replied with a sigh. "Although technically, we may have lost that battle, we still dealt a blow to their forces...they need to regroup," he informed.

"Loki is right, we took out several of their ships," Frandal reported to the crown prince.

"Just because they had a few ships destroyed doesn't mean that they are biding their time..." Sif countered..

"The Kursed is dead," Loki finally announced, but I doubt the Dark-Elves know it yet, most likely they are waiting for him to rendezvous with them. The Dark-Elves are not like us in combat, they will leave a man behind," he stated.

"You are not like us," Lady Sif muttered just loud enough for Loki to hear.

Loki inhale sharply through the nose choosing to ignore Lady Sif rather than to turn her to stone. "The point being," Loki uttered through gritted teeth as he rolled his shoulders in annoyance. "That I can disguise myself as the Kursed and infiltrate their stronghold. I can gather intelligence on what their plan of attack is. Once we know we can return to Asgard and prepare the rest of the warriors and the council," Loki expounded.

The group of warriors slowly started to nod along. "Loki no!" Prince Thor immediately called out. "It is too dangerous," he shook his head in protest. "What if you are caught?" he asked in earnest as he started to cough.

"I can shape shift well enough that I will not be detected also I can conceal myself," Loki stated and he demonstrated as he made himself disappear for split second.

"Still," Thor continued to protest, "You should not go alone," he said through a coughing spasm as Jane rubbed his back. "It is unwise to send a scout out by themselves...I'll...I'll go with you," the golden prince insisted.

The green-eyed enchanter merely shook his head to the notion. "Thor be serious," Loki softly scoffed. "You are in no condition to go," He expressed. The golden-locked son of Odin wanted to persist, but as he coughed and felt the sharp pain shoot through his lungs he realized that Loki spoke the truth. "You need to rest and recuperate," Loki stated flatly, "So that you are strong enough to lead Asgard's troops when the time comes. There are only three days until Convergence and the stronghold city of Ichabod is only a night's travel from here," the onyx-locked son of Laufey continued. "I can be back in a days time," Loki stated. "A days time should be enough time for you and the injured men to become strong enough to travel through the passageway and return to Asgard," the once prince explained.

"The plan does seem reasonable, Thor," Frandal whispered to the Prince of Asgard.

Thor nodded as he weighed the option, "But still it is too dangerous for you to go alone. You should take some men," Thor argued as he pointed to the few remaining able bodied troops. "Take Frandal, Volstagg, Hogun and Sif," Thor started to insist.

"No!" the silver-tongued trickster responded all too abruptly. He covered it easily with a small sly smile as he brushed his fingernails over the edges of his silk tunics. "I mean, no," he said in a slippery tone, that won't be necessary,"

"There's safety in numbers, Loki," Hogun chimed in.

"True, but it is merely a scouting mission. It will be easier for me to infiltrate their camp alone. I can travel quickly by myself on foot, taking more people would require that we take a skiff and we have few to spare,"

"Well we could travel on foot as well," Volstagg spoke up raising a pudgy finger.

"Really, no one should be traveling, look at it out there," Frandal interjected as he pointed toward the mouth of the gave where the black sands of the formidable Dark-World swirled about.

"The storm is dying down," Loki dismissed with a flippant gesture of the hand. In truth it was, before the sands had been swirling so violently that one couldn't even see the sun, now though the sand tempest was still raging, it had slowed and the faint streaks of the muted sun were slightly visible. "I could get through this by putting a force field around myself to keep out the sand from smiting me." he explained.

"Well couldn't you put a force-field around all of us?" Frandal asked hopefully.

Loki twitched, slightly unnerved by being interrupted. He cracked the bones in his fingers before addressing the blonde-haired swordsman. It reminded him of when he used to teach youngster at the Academy, so many questions. "I could," he began slowly as he offered an annoyed grin, "But to put a shield around others would be taxing. I would not be able to hold such a shield for long," he sighed. He could see Lady Sif starting to smirk all to pleased at what she thought was an admission of weakness.

"But you were able to get 50 men through that portal," Volstagg countered.

The mage couldn't help but let out a groan, the plump Viking knew nothing of magic how dare he think to argue with him about what he could and couldn't do. "Yessss," Loki replied through gritted teeth once more his bony white fingers popped and pipped and he cracked his knuckles. "But that was for a spell that would only last a few minutes, this would be a much longer feat and much more taxing," he continued to explain. Volstagg's mouth pursed under his red beard and his blue eyes still held confusion, but he didn't interject anymore. "Also in order for the plan to be successful I would need to shape shift... I can shape-shift to keep from being detected I can take on the form of other guards and of objects, the others cannot and they would stand a greater chance of being caught. It is easier to catch a group than just one," Loki continued to rationalize.

"And what if in your full proof plan you are caught?" Sif contradicted immediately as she cross her arms over her chest.

"The chances of me being caught are remote, I can camouflage myself well enough for a few hours to gain information about how and when Malekith plans to release the Aether," He shrugged and gave a smug smirk as he mirrored Sif's stance by crossing his arms. "Once I have the information we need I would leave...unannounced and concealed. I wouldn't attempt any heroics, that could compromise the mission," Loki informed.

"Yes," the brunette warrior woman sneered, "None would debate that you are well versed in playing the monster," she started with disdain in her tone. "And you are far from a hero," she added.

"Sif!" the leader of the Einherjar corrected the shield-maiden.

"I am serious, Thor!" Sif snapped back. "Loki may be able to take on the shape of the Kursed but that doesn't mean he is above getting caught," she spat back as she turned around and glared at the jade-eyed trickster with her mahogany pupils. "And if he does get caught than he has doomed us all!" the iron clad maiden ranted.

"Sif," Thor cautioned.

"If Loki is caught than how are we supposed to find the pathway to return to Asgard?" Sif asked the company in an accusatory tone. Murmurs broke out among the soldiers.

"Nice to know that you are so concerned for your own well being Sif, when it would be I in the hands of the enemy," Loki retorted his lips curled in a bitter grin.

"I am concerned for the lives of the soldiers faithful to Asgard!" Sif yelled as she stood. "I am concerned for my realm and the Nine Realms at large!" she continued as she stepped from out the circle around the bonfire and marched toward Loki. Loki heard the shield-maiden's furious footsteps and rose to occasion, standing back in defiance to the warrior woman's imposing stance over him. "If you get caught than we are all trapped here! And what hope will their be for the Nine-Realms then?" she growled.

"Here!" Loki declared as he shot out his pale hand from inside his dark cloak and produced a smooth looking gray and green stone. Sif looked down at the peculiar rock quizzically. "My lodestone!" Loki ground out as he forced the gem into her hands roughly. "You remember how to use one of these?" he asked with a sneer. Indeed Lady Sif did. She remembered learning about the lodestones in her earliest years of schooling when she took up orienteering. Lodestones had once helped guide travelers through thick brush and tundras and on storm seas. It was some trick to it some inherent ability in the stone, to grow hot and cold as you strayed or stayed on the path. Of course maps and compasses were more reliable, but she knew how to use it. "Good," Loki stated flatly. "It can lead you to the portal," he declared. "Happy?" he asked back cheekily as he started to turn from the chestnut haired woman.

"Not hardly!" Sif shouted from behind Loki's back. "Maybe the stone can get us to the portal, but we can't get through it without you, so if you are caught we are still unable to return to Asgard!" she stomped her foot and balled up her fist tempted to throw the stone on the ground.

Midnight locks flipped backward as Loki let out a hearty laugh. He stopped laughing so abruptly that it was almost jolting, his face turned firm as stone as he locked in on Lady Sif, "Honestly, Sif your worry over me is almost embarrassing," he mocked. The bronzed skin warrior woman did not flinch. "Now remember these words," Loki warned as he repeated a simple magic phrase. "It'll get the portal going," he informed. "It is less safe without a proper enchanter," he informed, "But an adventure should always have a little risk," he winked at her.

Sif was aghast, she growled and her fist immediately started flying. "Why I ought to..." she roared.

"ENOUGH SIF!" The thunderer bellowed. "Loki is risking his life so that no one else has to...and that is noble," the crown prince condoned. "And I approve it," Thor confirmed as he looked up at his brother. His eyes dropped and he swallowed hard rubbing, mammoth hands on his thighs and knees. "I think it is gamble," the blonde-haired leader of Asgard's finest stated, "but it is the only viable option we have at this point and we don't have time to waste squabbling over other alternatives," he continued.

"But," Lady Sif uttered a protest

"Sif," Hogun's quiet voice interrupted her. "It is Prince Thor's decision to make," he reminded the strong-willed shield-maiden.

"You're right," Sif responded although it was a painful one, "Whatever you say, Prince Thor," the warrior of Asgard pledged as she put her hand to her heart.

The golden prince of Asgard gave a nod of gratitude toward the female soldier of his band and he gave a wink to Hogun. "It's been decided. Loki will go to Ichabod and scout a head. Loki, you have 48 hours," Prince Thor began to express. "You complete your mission, gather the information and come right back to the camp. If you take any longer than 48 hours," Thor paused, swallowing thickly, "Then we have to assume the worse," Thor expressed and his eyes looked moist at the thought. He ran his mammoth sized hands over his eyes before turning back the inky-haired scout."When will you be ready to go?' the son of Odin asked.

Loki turned his head to look out the mouth of the cave. He noticed the sand storm was starting to fall still. "As soon as the storm lets up," Loki confirmed.

*************************************************************************With that most of the men finished their supper of venison stew and retired for the evening. Eventually the raging tempest of wind and black sand calmed to the point where the idea of crossing the soot-hills seemed fathomable. Loki gathered a few provisions, just a small satchel full of a few essentials, (a wineskin filled with water, a loaf of bread and lamb jerky, rope and a tattered cloak). He didn't need much, he was armed with his powers and his mind and his plan, those were the greatest weapons one could possess in such situations. The hour was later and most of the warriors had gone to sleep. Loki wanted to embark on the journey in the dead of the night without anyone seeing him. He crept toward the mouth of the cave. "Loki!" a deep, base voice attempted to whisper.

The commanding tone froze the ebony-haired scout in his tracks. Annoyed, he turned around slowly only to see large, broad-shouldered figure, bulging with muscles hobbled toward him. Loki groaned and rolled his eyes. "Thor," Loki whispered shaking his head as he watched the strapping thunderer labor to cross the cave to reach him. It was pitiful to see the once might Thor hobbling so. "You need to lie down," Loki stated as he shook his head watching Thor's bruised and battered body lumber forward.

"I've laid down long enough," the golden son of Odin replied, "I can't lay down any longer, I get restless," he shrugged. Thor chuckled slightly. "Most of the warriors are tired and I haven't been of much use...I want to keep first watch tonight," Thor explained.

Slim shoulders raised and then fell. "Very well, you are the Crown Prince of Asgard you can do as you please," Loki retorted nonchalantly as he proceeded to turn on his heels, sling his satchel over his shoulder and leave.

"Loki!" Thor called out once more. His bandaged hand clumsily attempting to clamp down on Loki's skinny shoulder-blade. Loki halted and turned toward the hammer-bearer. "I...I...I" Thor's awkward tongue sputtered to find the words to say. "I wanted to thank you for what you did...back there...with the Kursed, during the battle...I...I...Loki..."

Loki held out a thin, porcelain hand to silence the stammering prince, "You've already thanked me, you don't need to thank me again," Loki replied as he flicked Thor's bulky fingers from around his shoulder.

Thor nodded as his sore hand fell to his side. Thor managed to stand up a little straighter, he attempted to smooth his rumpled and dirty and bloodied tunics "When this is over I will tell father what you have done. Father will be please and he...he...I am sure that he will..."

"This isn't over Thor...you don't know what the outcome will be so don't make any rash promises, besides you already promised me that I would return to my cell...anymore promises and I may jump for joy," the thinner Asgardian stated a false grin on his face. His face regained it's composure and he looked intently at Thor, "Besides Odin is not my father," he responded.

Thor shook his head, "Brother," Thor mumbled.

"Stop it!" Loki spat turning sharply so that he was looking in the other direction. "I'm not your brother," Loki reminded Thor as he brought his piercing emerald orbs to stare Thor in face once more.

"Then why did you come back?" Thor countered his voice raised with emotion. Thor noted the way Loki clenched his jaw as the question was posed."Why'd you save me?" he inquired further. Loki closed his eyes no longer willing to listen as Thor continued to press. "If you truly hate me so much, why not just let the Kursed kill me?" muscular viking prince demanded.

"Because!" Loki erupted. Then he inhaled sharply and opened his shining emerald eyes. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Loki explained stoically.

"Loki!" Thor bellowed once more as Loki proceeded to leave.

Loki rolled his eyes and groaned. "I must make some haste," the once prince explained in a huff. "Every moment that passes by is one less moment that we have to defeat the Dark-Elves and it is one more moment that they have to defeat us," Loki urged. "Convergence is drawing nigh," he explained as his eyes shifted to glance toward the outside.

"I know," Thor expressed just as he hand reached out to capture Loki's neck. Loki's initial response was to try to jerk away. Loki expected the hammer-bearer's massive hands to come and wrap around his throat and try to strangle him, he was surprised by the gentle, affirming, affectionate palm placed on the side of his neck. "Be safe." the blue-eyed prince whispered, his eyes glistening as he clapped him around the neck two times, just as he had always done. For a second, out of pure instinct he felt the urge to reciprocate the gesture, like they had always done since they were lads. Thor had always been affectionate. "I don't want to lose you again," Thor muttered his deep voice quivering as he dropped his gaze to keep Loki from seeing the water in them as dropped something into Loki's open palm. 'I...I...I mourned you, brother," Thor admitted as he folded Loki's thin, grimy fingers over so that they clasp the small gift. Loki's swallowed the large lump that had formed in his throat as if felt a small, cool, open sphere against his skin. He recognized it just by the touch. It was crudely made, lumpy and uneven, hardly even spherical. He knew the grooves on the hand carved ring. He knew the inscription that had been thoughtfully though not skillfully etched into the ring made of bilgeschnipe tusk, Einar.

Loki felt a thick lump form in his throat, he felt moisture prick behind his emerald eyes, his mouth felt dry and his silver tongue felt heavy as lead. His heart clenched. Reflexively his hand wrapped around the trinket. Why? Why did Thor still have the ring? He gave it to you, remember? A small voice inside Loki prompted. Loki snarled as he felt that pesky inner voice rising up from those tiny crevices inside his heart that he had not been completely able to fill with bitterness, malice and rage. It was an annoying gnat like nuisance, that he wished to be rid of. "Do you remember?" his inner voice continued to ask. "Do you remember when he made it for?" Of course. How could he forget. He'd been sick in bed, unconscious and feverish for days after gallivanting off with Thor on some vanity quest that had nearly cost him his life. The details of the actual quest were still a little foggy. He had suffered a concussion after Thor's little adventure.

"He nearly go me killed," Loki retorted to his conscience.

"He felt awful,"the voice contradicted. "He stayed by your side the whole time. He wept over you. He made you the ring to make amends. It was a valuable trinket. Few people have a ring made from a bilgeschnipes tusk,"

"Yes and most of those who have one are women," Loki sneered.

"He was supposed to give it to Britta, the girl he loved at the time,"

"It was hardly love, they only courted a few months,"Loki replied. "And what does that mean that he gave me such a gift...that he thinks I am a weak and helpless damsel," Loki scoffed.

He could hear the voice tisking inside his mind. "You forget the inscription, Einar, warrior chief," the tiny voice uttered. "He thinks you are strong," the tone whispered. "It means he's you're his brother,"the voice told. "Do you remember what it meant to you then?" his heart asked gently. Loki squeezed his deep forest green eyes shut. Fighting hard to fight off the voice in his head. "Do you?" it whispered once more.

"NO!"

"It meant everything," the voice reminded him.

"It doesn't matter!" Loki exploded. "I was a child! A foolish, sniveling little boy who knew nothing!" he railed. "I am not that same naive boy, who was weak and pitiful. The throne of Asgard is within my grasp!" he growled. "You will not keep what is mine from me, not now when I am so close!"

He cursed Thor. Damn him for being so dreadfully sentimental. Why did he have to make things so complicated. Why did he still care? Why did Thor have to be so foolish and still cling to a bond that had been based off of a lie all along? And more importantly why Something about the affection in Thor's eyes made him want to change his mind, but there was no going back he'd come to far. He was so close now he could almost taste it. He could take the sweet succulence of glory, the savory flavor of vengeance. They were good and lingered on the pallet. Although he imagined that they would leave a lingering and bitter aftertaste. That mattered little now. He banished such thoughts from his mind. It was only weakness that would make a man want to relinquish a throne that was in his grasped on something as feeble as sentimentality. "Thor...I..." the articulate mage struggled for words. Thor's eyes looked up into his and the blonde allowed a hopeful smile to trickle across his chapped lips. "I need to go," Loki announced and instantly the emotions vanished from his face as he turned away and walked out the cave into the shifting black sands.

---

"You should get some sleep," a deep and sultry female voice came up behind Thor a few moments later. Her tough warrior hands tapped the Prince of Asgard on the shoulder. Thor shook his blonde locks ready to protest. "We need you strong," Sif responded. "Please rest, for Asgard's sake," she nearly pleaded as she squeezed his shoulder. With a gusty sigh, the great bearer of Mjolnir relented and allowed the shield-maiden to assume the post of first watch. Lady Sif took to her post by the mouth of the cave. For awhile she stood like a century ever keeping watch, but eventually, she sat and started to sharpen her double bladed javelin. She sharpened it contented as she started to hum to herself to take away from the white noise like sound of the swishing and swirling of the Svartalhiem winds over the barren black sands.

"What are you humming?" a feminine voice asked softly as it crept up behind her.

Sif did not break from sharpening her weapon. "It is an old war song of the Valkyries," Sif explained as she continued in her rhythm on moving the flint stone up and down the edge of the blades. "Why aren't you asleep, mortal?' Sif asked coolly.

"I can't sleep," Jane shrugged and then wrung her hands as she started to pace back and forth.

"Have you ever sharpened a blade?" the dark-haired warrior asked the brown eyed scientist. Jane shook her head. "Come, I will show you," Sif stated as she patted the ground beside her. The astrophysicist nodded as she took a seat beside Sif. Sif passed her the weapon and explained to her how to sharpen the instrument of war. Jane picked up the habit, rather quickly. She actually found it soothing.

"Do you think Loki will return?" Jane asked as she noted that Sif had momentarily paused in attending to her weapon to stare out the mouth of the cave.

"If you are asking do I think he will be caught..." Sif sighed as she turned back to face the mortal.

"No...that is not what I am asking," Jane responded rapidly, she didn't mean to be so curt. "I'm asking do you think he will come back of his own free will?"
"Loki is shifty like sand," the Einherjar woman responded.

"You don't trust him do you, Sif?"
"He has done nothing to regain my trust," the brunette announced, "But Thor trusts him... and he is the commander and chief f the Einherjar, he is Prince of Asgard and..." she sighed as she looked Jane Foster up and down. Though frail seeming she could not deny that the mortal was an attractive specimen. "my friend," Lady Sif stated. "I will not question his will or authority, so who he trusts should be good enough for me.