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?

44. Longing Backward Glance

A/N: HELLOOO READERS! HO-Ho-HO and MERRY CHRISTMAS! Hi there everybody I hope you are having a wonderful holiday season. I apologize for the long wait between updates. I try to write as often as possible, but often time life gets busy...smh. Anyway, once again I want to thank you all so much for your continued support of this story. I appreciate everyone of your follows, favorites and reviews so much. It is because of your continued support that I have been enabled to write this story for over 4 years! WOOHOO! Thank you soooo much! I blow you kisses and give you Christmas cookies and a round of applause!

Well this chapter was particularly difficult. I honestly thought I was going to get a lot further in the story that the chapter than I actually did, but as so often happens with these chapter, the characters have a mind of their own and I am forced to tell the story their way and at their pace. Well anyway this chapter is a little somber, mostly because I just didn't think that all the jokes were appropriate in Thor: Ragnarok. I love humor but a movie about the end of a society needs to be frightening emotional and impactful. Well I will let you all be the judges of that hehe. Also I did my best to edit this chapter, but I had so many problems with my word processor that I'm sure their are some typos I missed.

Discalimer: the song referenced in this chapter is "gods love nubia" from the Broadway musical Aida. It's a beautiful muscal and the song is really pretty. I recommend that while your reading thechapter you listlisten to the song. That's what I did while writing it ;) Well without further ado... I give you chapter 44. Happy reads and writes and God Bless you.

Chapter 44

Thor's ragged scream still rang in Loki's ear. He could hear the burly blonde's words reverberating off of the empty walls and halls. "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" The words assaulted his head. They bombarded him like a catapult attack. Each time the phrase echoed in his mind he felt as if he had one of his own daggers being plunged into his soul. He gasped as he felt the sharp words dig and rip and stab at his stomach and cut him into a thousand pieces.

The king allowed his head to flop against the door. His face was crumpled and flushed. It was streaked with tears and his green eyes were so red and wet with tears that he was unable to see. His face was streaked with water and it ran down his nose and face and chin. It was sopping into the tattered clothes on his chest. He sobbed harder and deeper and doubled over clutching his gut as if his innards were about to spew all over the floor. He could feel himself starting to hyperventilate. He couldn't breathe. He coughed as he sobbed even more fiercely.

He squeezed his eyes shut and larger tear drops started for fall from his bloodshot emerald orbs. He tried to take deep, long breaths to compose himself, but he found himself unable to calm himself down. Each of his breaths came out shallower and raspier. The way Thor had said it with such vehemence and venom, well it was like nothing that Loki had ever heard come out of Thor's mouth. Thor could always be loud, boisterous and he did have quite a temper, but Thor's temper was like a passing shower. Strong, torrential, but all and all brief. It would blow in and blow out. He'd get hot for a minute and let it out with some physical fury and then it was over. But the way he said it, it was a rumble and a groaning from deep within. It was a hurricane. And it was such a furious storm that it threatened to blow him away.

2000 years of brotherhood had meant countless spats, arguments and fights. Sometimes it had seemed like they fought every single day. There was always something that they disagreed about. There was always something stupid that Thor said that set him off. Sometimes the fights had been petty. Often times they'd both say terrible things to one another. They'd call each other nasty names. Thor in the heat of rage would often call him a weakling or a coward for his practice of magic. In turn, he'd call Thor a fool or an oaf.

One time, AThor had been particularly drunk. He had been holding up at a tavern for hours and Loki had been desperately trying to convince him to come back to the palace. Thor had refused and as Loki's pestering became more bothersome, he finally, just yelled out and called his younger sibling a disgrace to the house o Odin. Loki couldn't have thought of anything more injurious or slanderous that his brother could have said to him. Later, after he'd sobered, Thor had apologized profusely. He'd claimed that it had only been the mead and grog talking, but Loki knew for was far to blunt even without alcohol to lie when he was inebriated.

There had been another time, during a heated battle that raged between the two that while Loki was screaming at Thor he shot a powerful energy blast right from his knuckles and into Thor's chest and the blast had sent Thor careening through the brick wall. The blonde had ended up buried under a pile of rubble. Loki felt awful. He didn't know what had surprised him more the fact that he'd lost control of his own power s like that during an argument or the fact that he was actually able to beat Thor. But he could tell that the latter had had the most impact on the elder. Thor stared back at him once he had dug himself from underneath the mounds and looked at him with a mixture of confusion, anger and lurking deep within those cerulean eyes was a twinge of unspoken fear. Loki stared down at his hands. They had been shaking and trembling then. He'd frightened Thor and he'd both frightened and impressed himself. It was the fact that he felt impressed that had frightened him the most. He quickly caused himself to vanish from Thor's after that.

As the years past the power blast would be one of the least hurtful things that he would have done to Thor. Though Thor would never admit it, words always hurt far worse and he'd had his fair share of scathing remarks. He could recall a few times when he'd told Thor that he hated him. He could remember the first time the phrase flew from his thin lips.

He and Thor had been playing. He had a little toy airship that he'd been playing with. It was shiny and made of brass and looked just like the real thing. They were pretending to have a battle. Thor had several little tin men lined up in rows like armies in ranks. Loki's forces had the higher ground. They were a few good marksmen who had taken the lofty position on the mantle. Thor had a small toy catapult that he used to launch a few tiny pebbles trying to reach Loki's troops above. Those pebbles fell short and didn't come even an inch near the soldiers resting on the mantle place. Loki's airship replicas were actually able to launch little red beads which looked like the laser pellets that the real war skiffs used to rain down on Asgard's enemies. The little red fell in showers on the tin soldiers below, knocking them over. It looked like an absolute slaughter. "Ha! Ha! I win!" Loki squealed with delight.

Thor looked down at his poor toy soldiers. It was a total massacre. He gazed up in horror as Loki's little airship flew over his head. The buzzing sound of the little rudders and wings tortured the older prince. He jumped up unable to take it anymore. "yeah, but here comes an attack from Surtur!" Prince Thor yelled as he rose to his full height.

"Attack from Surtur?" The raven-haired youngster asked in confusion and slight horror, he looked around nervously. He hated all those old legends about the fire giant who reigned in Muselpelheim. Loki's eyes darted back and forth just to make sure that the beastly creature wasn't there. "Hey, he's not apart of this game," the younger child protested.

"is now!" Thor countered with a wide grin. He stomped around like giant and reached his hands into the air and swatted at the toy flying skiff. Loki took his toggles and tried to navigate his toy out of Thor's destructive path.

"Hey, come on, Thor quit it!" Loki whined as he tried to fly his machine higher and higher and away from Thor's grubby hands.

"ERGGH," Thor growled still in character. "Surtur hungry," he declared. "Hungry for Asgardian flesh," he continued. With that, he reached up and grabbed the bronze airship right from the air. Thor took it in his young and mighty meat hooks and laughed as he caught it.

Loki gasped. And immediately flew at Thor. He ran at Thor. "Hey, Thor come on give it back!" Loki pleaded as he went to his older brother's side and reached up with skinny finger desperately trying to take back the toy that was his.

"What did you say?" Thor questioned as he raised one hand to his ear and kept the other hand elevated so that Loki could not reach his airship. "Don't call me Thor... I am Surtur!" The young prince roared and he banged his chest like a great ape.

"Alright, Surtur," Loki said back snappily. "Well just put it down," he demanded as he stomped his foot.

Thor ran away laughing. He ran toward the steps and with his athletic young body he leaped up about three steps. There he roared with a type of victorious laughter. "Surtur will eat the men off of this ship and keep the ship as a prize," he declared as he started tossing the toy aircraft back and forth between his two hands.

Prince Loki looked nervous. He nibbled on his finger nails. "Thor please, no, be careful," Loki pleaded. His little eyes started to well up with tears. "I...I...I built that myself you know," he expressed as he climbed up the steps chasing after Thor. "Give it back!" He called to the older lad with his hand extended.

Thor paid no heed to his younger brother's cries. He still kept throwing this small skiff between his two hands. Loki clambered after Thor. He ran up behind his pulled on his shirt and reached his scrawny arms as high as he could but they seemed to not stand a chance against Thor's height and strength. Thor laughed as he used one hand to push Loki's head away and keep him at bay. He ended up pushing his younger brother down the steps. Loki took a nasty tumble rolling down 5 steps. The young child fell to the bottom step and he felt like he had twisted his ankle. His lip was poked out and he started crying. Thor stopped midstream in one of his notorious might guffaws. His bright blue eyes got wide for a second as he started to realize that maybe the game had gone a little too far. Reflexively he clenched his fist and the little bronze toy skiff cracked his hands. "Oops," the blonde-haired child let out sheepishly and he opened his hand and the pieces crumbled on the steps.

"No!" Loki yelped with his hand outstretched as he saw the toy destroyed. "Thor look what you've done!" He shouted angrily as he hobbled to the steps to gather the cracked pieces of his beautiful replica.

"I'm sorry, little brother,' Thor began as he bent down next to Loki and placed his hand on his shoulders. Loki was trembling. He snatched his shoulder from under his brother's palm and snarled. Albeit, it wasn't very threatening, it was like a kitten hissing, but still, it was angry.

"You're such an oaf!" The little dark-haired boy grumbled as he looked at the broken pieces. He picked them up in his hands and fiddled with them and tried to put them back together.

"it was just an accident, Loki," Thor expressed.

"I told you to give it back," He hissed. "You play too much! Why wouldn't you just give it back?"

"Thor sort of chuckled. "Well I was Surtur, I don't think Surtur would just give it back like that," he shrugged.

"Surtur was never apart of this game!" Loki ground out. "You just can't ever bear to lose," he explained.

"Of course, I hate losing," the older prince acknowledged.

"And I hate you!" Loki shot back all too quickly. It was so quick that he hardly had time to catch what he was saying. He stood up with his fist balled at his sides. "You wreck everything that is mine! I spent weeks working on that! It was more than 2000 pieces," he fumed.

Thor's eyes were large and hurt. "What did you say?" He asked and his voice was uncharacteristically hushed.

"I said it was 2000 pieces," Loki said again.

"You said you hated me," Thor responded. Loki watched as the big, burly, blonde boy's eyes welled up with tears. He sprinted down the steps past him and went screaming for their mother. "Mama! Mama!" He cried. "Loki said he hated me!" He tattled.

Frigga came back in a few minutes later holding Thor's hand. She had a stern and disappointed look on her face. "Loki, did you tell Thor you hated him," she asked. Her hands were on her hips.

Prince Loki looked up from the wreckage like a frightened rabbit. That tone in her voice was enough to make him quiver. "Look what he did to my flying ship," he immediately pointed out and held up the broken pieces toward her face.

She put her hand up..."It's just a toy, my son," she said and put her hand on his shoulders. She sat them both down on the steps and began lecturing about how they were good brothers and loved one another and that they should never ever tell one another something like that. She made him feel guilty and he apologized.

After that, he tried to be careful when he said it. It was surprising to him that his big brother who was always acting so tough and always telling him that warriors don't cry over name calling had run to Mother in a hurry over three little words. He tried to be mindful of when he said it. He hadn't meant it then. He was a little boy and he was oh so angry, but he didn't hate Thor he just hated the fact that his favorite toy was smashed to bits.

There was another time, he was slightly older, a teenager. He had gotten the prestigious honor to compete in Asgard's mage tournament that year. Not only had he been asked to participate, but he had been chosen to be captain of the Imperial Academy's magician team. He would be able to lead a group of his peers in vigorous rounds of enchantment exercises. He was so excited. The tournament was normally held in one of the provinces to the north, but because a member of the royal family was going to compete they were going to hold the tournament in the Imperial City. He was thrilled. The palace would have the opportunity to host young mages and enchanters from all over Asgard and the Nine Realms. It would be wonderful to have the opportunity to be around other liked minded youth. he was constantly bombarded with muscle-bound warriors, who hardly had any appreciation for the sciences. He did not form friendships easily, but although he acted aloof and unfeeling about the matter he did want to be popular, like Thor. He wanted to show the other young enchanters a wonderful time in his home city. He was sure that when other people saw the tournament they'd be impressed. Father would be impressed. Father had said he would come. Certainly, seeing the great king of Asgard in attendance would let the people know that his father supported his arts. But the day of the tournament came and father didn't attend and actually, very few citizens did as well. Thor happened to ever so conveniently have his first Einherjar sparring event that same day.

It was late at night, Loki set by the fountain glowering as he looked into the tranquil pool. He heard Thor's lumbering footfalls coming up quickly behind him. He started to use his powers to vanish, but before he could even whisper the incantation in his mind Thor was right up on him. He could smell his brother's masculine scent. He was sweaty and musky and dirty and quite frankly he stank. Loki curled his nose at the repugnant odor. "Ahhh, brother there you are!" Thor greeted gallantly. he was twirling his sword about in his hands. Finally, he took a seat next to Loki. The younger prince of Asgard kept his eyes focused on the fountain. He stared at the ripples it created in the water. He hoped it would put him into some trance-like meditative state, but all and all it seemed to be failing miserably. He clapped his hand on Loki's back and then waved his dirty hand in front of Loki's unblinking emerald eyes trying to break him from his fixed stare. "Loki hello?" he sang. "How was your tournament?" He asked and leaned into the young man's face.

Prince Loki grimaced. "As to be expected," he replied boredly. He took a deep breath to keep from shouting.

Thor smiled and stretched, "Mine was great!" he exclaimed and raised his arm. His hairy, sweaty armpit was right by Loki's nose and the thin enchanter desperately tried to scoot away from the assault on his nostrils.

"Did you take a bath?" Loki asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Ummm...not yet," Thor shrugged. " I just got back from the competition," he continued. He gave his own armpit a whiff, "What you smell is the sweet perfume of victory!" The young thunderer proclaimed.

With his fingers still pinching his nose Loki remarked, "if that's the perfume of victory, I'd hate to smell the stench of defeat."

"It was a wonderful battle Loki, I fought for hours, taking on all comers," the golden-locked son of Odin leaped up and once again started swinging his magnificent blade in the air. he relived every moment of his battle and sparing match. He spared his brother no details about the matter. "oh it was wonderful Loki. "The crowd went wild. They were cheering 'Thor! Thor! Thor!' For what seemed like hours," he elaborated.

"Oh yes I'm sure you had a marvelous turn out to come and see your exploits," he responded snighly. Loki looked up at his brother with a deep sneer on his thin lips.

"Naturally," the crown prince of the realm declared. He rolled his shoulder to release the tension still pent up from battle. "I felt like the whole of the city was there!" He exclaimed stretching his arms out wide and nearly knocking Loki over with the foul stench of his pits.

Loki inched his way over trying to escape Thor's musky odor. "Good for you, brother," he stated sarcastically as he raised two thumbs in the air. Thor smiled quite pleased with the compliment and not noticing the insincerity in Loki's tone. he settled back down next to his younger sibling and draped his sweaty arm over Loki's thin shoulders.

"Thank you, brother! The generals commended me for my valor and I earned the lion medal," Thor pointed out as he showed the shiny gold crest made in the shape of a lions head that not decorated his chest. Loki surveyed the ornament with envy. "Father stood up and gave me a standing ovation when it was all over. Women threw flowers," he said as he breathed in the sweet scent of the roses once more. "Among other things," he winked.

"Good for you, brother," Loki said with annoyance in his voice.

"Yes, yes, glorious battle," Thor reminisced. He closed his eyes, placed his palms behind his golden mane to cradle his head as he leaned it against the pillar. His elbows poked out and nearly struck Loki in the temple. His hairy, odoriferous pits did not miss hitting the younger prince's nose with their dirty smell. "And what of you today, brother?' Thor asked his words becoming lax. "How did you fare today? Tell me that you upheld family honor and led the young mages of Asgard to victory as well," he offered.

"Yes, we won," Loki stated flatlyd as his eyes popped open. "Tell me all the details," Thor practically begged.

Prince Loki rolled his eyes. "Go bathe brother," he finally remarked. He'd had enough of smelling his older sibling. "You reek," he announced and he stood up and started to he

"That's great, Loki!" Thor expresse

ad back up the steps away from the fountains toward his bedchamber.

Thor immediately stood up following after Loki. "Loki!" He called. He walked right up behind him and caught him by the shoulder. "What's wrong with you, huh?" He questioned. He took the younger teenager by the shoulders and studied Loki's sharp green eyes. They were shrewd and sharp and severe. "I thought you were excited about today..." He questioned.

"I was!" The younger son of Odin barked. His voice came out louder and sharper than he had intended. "I was," the raven-locked enchanter responded once more this time with the correct tone. One that was calm and unwavering. "Until you ruined everything, again," He ground out and clenched his fist by his side.

"Me?" The golden-haired young man questioned. He pointed at himself. "What did I do...I wasn't even there," Thor laughed.

"Exactly!" Loki hissed and he yanked his bony shoulders out from Thor's clasp.

Thor sniffed then snorted, "Look, Loki if you lost you can't blame me..." Thor started.

Loki rolled his eyes and laughed. "I didn't lose, you nitwit!" He snapped. "No actually we did simply splendid, Thor, not that anyone was there to see it" he grumbled.

"You didn't have a good turn out," Thor finally surmised. He took a deep breath and exhaled. "I'm sorry about that, little brother, honestly I am.." The eldest prince started. He raised his hand to place it on Loki's slender and long white neck. Just as his grubby, dirty, sweaty, calloused hands were ready to approach Loki's neck, Loki's quick hands smacked it away.

The slap smarted and Thor although he was nearly a man, felt like a toddler touching something dangerous. He looked around in confusion for a moment. "No one was there because of you!" Loki shouted. "You stole my audience!" Loki stated.

"Your audience?" Thor echoed. His big blue eyes still blinking with the guileless innocence of a child.

"Yes, my audience!" Loki breathed raggedly as he pointed to himself furiously. "Today was supposed to be mine! The people were supposed to come and see me today compete and show off my skills and you ruined that!"

"Loki, it is not my fault I had a sparring match today," Thor countered. "There is a sparring match every month at this time," he shrugged off.

"You could have asked to reschedule, you could have switched matches with someone you could have postponed til tomorrow or anything," Loki ranted.

"I would have looked like a coward if I would have failed to spar," Prince Thor insisted.

"Oh, come off it Thor," Loki rolled his bright green eyes. "No one would have thought anything of you, you knew it was the tournament day. I heard you insisting that the sparring match still be held today. You just couldn't handle the thought of there being a day when the people of Asgard celebrated me and not you, could you?" Loki asked bitterly as he leaned into Thor's face.

"Loki, that's not true," Thor stated shaking his head. "The people could have still gone to your tournament had they wanted to. It wasn't as if I made everyone come to the training barracks to see me," He shrugged.

"You knew they'd chose you over me," Loki hissed. He gave Thor a push which caused the young Einherjar to stumble slightly backward down the stairs. "They always chose you over me," Loki muttered miserably as he looked down at his hands. He balled his fingers into a fist then looked back up at Thor with an emerald glare that shot daggers.

"Loki," the elder prince started. He shook his head. "I...I...I..."

"And Father," Loki began, he rolled his eyes toward the heavens. He shook his head and he bit his lip so hard that he thought he'd bite it clear off his face. He sank his teeth in deeper and deeper doing everything he could to prevent his lip from quivering before his brother. "Father was supposed to come see me!" He pointed out. "For once, Father was looking at me and my talents and what I could do. He was proud of me! Me, Thor!" Loki insisted enunciating every word perfectly. "He was talking to me about my magic and my craft and honing my abilities. He told me he couldn't wait to see me perform in the tournament," Loki shook his head bitterly. His eyes welled up with tears. "And you stole him from me. You have had hundreds of sparring matches, almost all of which Father had come to see, this was my one chance to impress Father and the people and you stole it from me," Loki confessed.

Thor looked down, "They'll be other competitions, Loki," he mumbled quietly.

"They'll be other competitions for you!" Loki declared pointing to him. "This could have been my only opportunity..." Loki went on. Thor for his muscular physique and armor stood before the younger teen like a shamefaced little boy. "Spirits!" He swore. His eyes are trembling with unshed moisture and his thin lips twitched ever so slightly. "The Fates certainly declared the perfect name for you on your naming day ceremony, didn't they?" Loki went on.

"Huh?" Thor murmured dully as he looks up into Loki's angry face.

"Thor, Thunderer, Thunder-bearer...Thunder-thief!" Loki hurled.

"What?" The crown prince questioned once more.

"Perfect name for you," Loki continued to spit. "Because all you've ever done since we were little was steal my thunder," the raven-haired teenager declared. He thinks he sees Thor's thick lips mutter the pathetic words of I'm sorry and maybe a few other cliché phrases, but by that point, he'd become far too heated as to care. His sighed, sucked his teeth and rolled his emerald orbs. "Sometimes I hate you," he stated before turning on his heels and marching back toward the palace.

A day or so later, Odin came to speak with him. Odin had put on a lavished banquet and ball for all the young mages who had come to Asgard to compete. The occasion was quite grand. Music and dancing, jesters and tumbler and players and tables that overflowed with the most succulent foods anyone of them had ever tasted. It was a wonderful party and it should have surely made up for the embarrassing turn out that the young mages had at their tournament. None seemed to be thinking of that. All the youths seemed to have forgotten their disappointment after gifts had been lavished upon them by the king and queen of Asgard. They returned to their towns and shires and realms with jewels and fine purple linen, rings and necklaces and swords and knives. Odin had thought that his younger son would be pleased with the big to-do that he had made over them, but Loki remained melancholy and distant during the festivities. He noted that Thor had dared not even broach his younger brother during the banquet and Loki soon retired the balcony.

The king eventually followed his son out to the balcony. He saw the pale young man staring despondently into the night sky. "This evening's festivities hold not your interest, my son?' The king questioned as he came up and stood behind the younger prince.

Loki took a deep breath and breathed in the warm night air. "I just wanted a breath of fresh air, Father," Loki replied.

"You have been out here for a while, Prince Loki, it makes me think that you are not have enjoyed what I have done for you tonight," Odin raised his white brow.

"I appreciate it immensely father, but being around so many...it is tedious for me," the trickster stated.

" it is rude not to be among your guests," the king informed his glance was scrutinizing.

Loki nodded. "Yes, Father, of course, I will return to banquet straightway," he stated as he straightened the collar of his vestments. He gave the king a half-hearted smile and started to exit.

"Loki," Odin put his strong hand on his younger son's shoulder. "I am sorry that I was not able to attend the tournament," he announced stiffly. He stood proud and tall and hardly blinked as he made the statement. "Your mother told me how wonderful you and your team did. I am so glad that you upheld the honor of your school, city and of course family in the competition," Odin offered a small grin.

Loki nodded, his chest tightened and he felt a lump form in his throat. "I wish you could have seen it, Father," he responded.

"I know you are disappointed that I was not there, Loki" Odin admitted. Loki tried to keep his face expressionless, the truth of the matter was that disappointed did not begin to cover what he felt. Livid only grazed the surface. "I want you to understand that I had every intention to be there, but when your brother also had his sparring match that same day I needed to be there to support, Thor" Odin stated.

"Why?" The prince shot back. "Why him and not me?" Loki demanded. He turned away from his father not wanting to face him as he prepared for the elderly monarch to give a cruel answer.

"Thor is heir to the throne," Odin elaborated. "When I support him now I support him as king in the eyes of the people. Your brother is young and trusting in some ways maybe even more so than you. If the people didn't support Thor then his young reign would be a mockery. He needs us all to be there for him, Loki. He needs your support, too" Odin tried to explain as he placed his weathered hands on Loki's slim shoulders. The young prince's shoulders shook. "It troubles him greatly that you are so angry with him," Odin explained. Please, be angry with me...not with your brother," Odin explained.

He eventually let go of his anger at Thor. The hate that he felt toward his brother hadn't been true. he hated the fact that he'd stolen his light. He hated the fact that he had once again fallen into the shadows and that Odin had condemned him to remain there for life if that was what it took to continue to bolster Thor in the eyes of the people. In the end, he supposed he'd simply hated himself.

There would be many more occasions where he'd thought it, but he hadn't been so careless as to let the words slip out with such ease. He knew he'd thought it after he found out about Thor and Lady Dagmar's brief tryst in their adolescence. He felt so betrayed and hurt by both of them. They were his two best friends and together they'd pulverized his heart. He ignored the fact that the two of them had done it in ignorance. He blamed Thor. He felt like Thor had snaked the woman he loved from under his nose. Thor had everything. He could have had any woman in Asgard that he wanted. He'd never felt like many maidens had desired him and quite frankly he didn't desire many of them, but he decided to take the woman he loved. He couldn't imagine that Thor could have ever anything worse to him. His heart was broken and Thor had been the grand architect of his heartbreak. He hated him. He hated him because he'd taken Dagmar, he hated him because despite years of friendship Dagmar had wanted Thor, he hated him...but that hate was for a moment. He thought he was the worst brother ever. He was a backstabber and a betrayer and he wished Thor would have just murdered him. He didn't know how he would live if he had to see Thor and Dagmar holding hands, giggling and fawning all over each other, kissing. Thor had torn out his heart that day. He didn't know if he wanted to kill Thor or himself at that point. In the back of the mind he supposed he knew that Thor hadn't ever really intended to hurt him, he knew that Thor never really knew about his feelings for Dagmar, he should have, but he didn't, had he known he knew Thor wouldn't have courted her. Yes. he'd meant it when he thought it, but the feeling passed Thor and Dagmar's relationship was short-lived and Dagmar practically cried on his shoulder begging him to forgive Thor and he was helpless not to capitulate with all of her wishes.

He'd thought it to himself when he was trapped in the Void, a prisoner of Thanos' hospitality. He'd thought over and over again how much he hated Thor. Thor who was supposed to be his overprotective, big brother was nowhere to be found when he went through his tortures. Finally, Thanos convinced him to give into his thoughts and feelings and fears. Sometimes he would try to fight against the dark thoughts that had entered his mind and plagued him during his months of torment. He tried to resist, to tell himself that it wasn't true, that Thor hadn't meant to drop him into the Void, that Thor was actually going to come and find him and save him, but days passed so slowly that he was hardly aware of their passing. His tortures at the hands of Thanos' chief minion hardly slackened and all he had was the voice of the mad titan whispering in his ear and torturing his mind.

He was brought low on his hands and knees. His hands were tied behind his back and his ankles were chained as well. "Surely, Prince Loki, you are tired of living like a slave," The Other reasoned. He marched around lowly prisoner with long, regal strides. "You have endured much and you are not a blithering idiot, yet" he pointed out as he proudly strolled round and round him. "We are impressed. We are pleased," he nodded. "We have waited a long time to find one with your abilities," he continued. Loki's back was bent and his breathing was labored and despite all that he'd experience at the hands of the creature before him there was still a prideful level of defiance in him. "He would love to treat you the way a man of your station deserves to be treated," he elaborated. He paused and licked his large, purple tongue over his bloody teeth. "If only he could be sure that your heart's allegiance truly lied with our purpose," the flunky proposed. "You have hate and anger and rage and bitterness," expressed The Other. He waved his thick double thumbed hand over Loki's quivering form. His broken back a was emaciated and gaunt looking. The thin sheets of clothing that he had been afforded hung off of his pale, white flesh. The Other breathed deeply as he sensed so much of Loki's pain. "Give into it," The Other urged. "Say it," he declared to the fallen prince of Asgard.

Loki ground his teeth. He kept them closed like a prison gate. He gritted and strained and did everything he could to try and keep silent. But he could feel it bubbling up and welling inside him. His stomach was roiling, his chest was all a flutter, his mind on fire, his body ached. He fought. He tried not to utter the word. For he knew once he uttered them that there would be no going back. It would lead him down the path that was directed by Thanos, but he was so tired of being tormented. It started to bubble forth. It was like an upset stomach. He could no longer hold it in and soon he was gagging. "Do you still believe that your brother is coming for you?" He asked cruelly.

Loki coughed and choked and made all sorts of terrible retching sounds and noise until finally, the words found their way on his silver-tongue, "N-N-N-No," he stammered.

The Other nodded and Loki was nearly sure that he saw a smile pull across his bloody, red lips. "And how does that make you feel?' The Other inquired.

Loki's breath came out in huffing gasps. His body was shaking. His green eyes burned. He tried to keep his silver-tongue at bay. When he spoke words people believed them. He was a trickster and if he spoke a thing long enough and hard enough he had the power to even deceive himself. He mashed his lips together, he bit his tongue, he pressed and fought and struggled to keep his mouth from making utterance. All the while he felt something tugging on his lips. It was like a magnet trying to extract the words from him. He didn't know if it was from within or without but the power was compelling and overwhelmingly so. He could no longer resist. The words came very slowly, "I hate him?" he mumbled. He looked up at The Other in confusion. He didn't know how he felt or even how he was supposed to feel. So he looked at his captor to tell him the right choice to make.

The Other continued to wear a sick smile on his face, "Say it again," he declared and he stomped his foot and scepter at the same time.

"I hate him," Loki muttered his voice shaky, but the words were no longer a question.

"Louder!" He prompted.

Loki swallowed. He did his best to raise his body so that he was sitting up straight and he was able to look The Other in the face. "I hate him," His voice was now stronger and firmer.

"Like you mean it!" Thanos' right hand roared back at the bound, broken and disheveled looking man before him.

"I HATE HIM!" Loki screamed over and over again. He screamed until his throat was raw. He screamed until he was a sobbing wreck. He screamed until he meant it. And he did mean it. For every time he'd ever said it and thought it and he didn't mean it, he sure as his life meant it then. Thor had left him here, vulnerable in this unforgiving Void, left to the mercy of these merciless fiends. Thor had always taken everything he'd ever wanted and left him table scraps. Thor was a true son of Asgard, son of Odin and he was nothing more than the offspring of a monster and he hated Thor for that. Saying it and meaning it was a wondrous feeling. In that horrible place, it was like a taste of paradise. To release such a powerful emotion and allow himself to feel its full force well it was like casting a spell. For the first time in a very long time, he felt like he was in control and it felt good.

"Master," The Other turned to Thanos who sat upon and golden floating chair and said, "He is ready."

Thanos' solid purple face formed a most sincere grin. "Good," the mad titan chuckled. He then turned his gaze toward Loki who was weeping loudly still shouting his proclamation of hatred. "Asgardian rise," he ordered.

Loki wondered if for Thor proclaiming his hatred had also been a sweet release. Prince Thor had been so steadfast in feigning love and loyalty and at putting on the brave front that he still wanted him around. Even when he'd been in prison revealed in his horrid Jotun form with eyes glaring and vermilion and teeth, gray and sharp like knives, nails black as an onyx stone and sharp as talons, with terrible marking crisscrossing his entire body like lashes from a whip, while he hollered his own venomous hatred for Thor, Thor never once returned the words. He'd done horrible things to Thor and to others at that point. He deserved hate just as much then as he did now, but virtuous Thor had refused to give him such satisfaction as mutual hatred. He was like a saint. Truth be told Loki he'd hated him all the more for that. He had nearly convinced him that he really still cared, but now that golden sham was over. He was finally able to break through the veneer of their false brotherhood after all these years. He was sure that it must have felt good for the Odinson to declare such a thing to him and yet it had caused him pain. Thor who was normally, jovial and light-heated, the life of every party was finally confronted with dark emotions.

Thor never dwelt on negative emotions long. It just wasn't his nature, not that he didn't get angry. The thunderer had always been quite the hot-head, but his anger was quick burst. He acted on his emotions immediately, he'd punch the person in the face, punch the wall, flip over a table, challenge someone to a duel, start a battle, but when the action was done the anger ended. Sometimes it seemed like Thor would forget what he had been angry about altogether.

Since Thor's anger was so short-lived, Loki doubted Thor had ever truly really hated anybody. He used to say he hated Leif, Lady Sif's brother, but it was doubtful that he actually did, Leif was just one of the very few people who wasn't a member of Thor's fan club and Thor didn't know how to respond to that, so he said he hated him.

There were a few times when he had thought that Thor might have hated him. As a young child, he had always feared his brother wrath and anger. His older brother though not necessarily mean-spirited was quick to yell and hit and push him if provoked. His greatest fear at the time was that Thor would be mad at him and never want to talk or play with him again. His world was so tiny then. Up until he was about 200 years old (4) he had never even left the palace grounds. His family was everything. Thor was his only playmate and he adored him. Thor would yell at him and he'd burst into tears. But soon Thor was gathering him in his arms and cradling him and telling him not to cry. He'd look up at the handsome older boy, he'd rub his nose and watery eyes and lean his head on his big brother's chest. "Tor mad?" He'd ask tentatively.

Thor would flash a winning smile in his direction, even if that smile was missing a few teeth at the time. He'd ruffle his hair and give him a squeeze. "Nope, Loki, I'm not mad," he'd assure him. All of a sudden his heart would be filled with glee once more. He'd burst into giggles and he and Thor would start to play again.

He supposed the first time that he truly feared Thor hated him was after he had revealed to the entire student body that Thor still believed in Julenissen. Well, truth be told Thor had actually revealed that about himself. The idiot was going around bragging about what he wanted for Solstice. There was no need for him to go on and on about it like he had. He was a prince, naturally, he was going to get everything he wanted. Foreign dignitaries who wanted to gain favor with Asgard would often lavish gifts upon the royal children. Everyone knew that. Why Thor had felt the need to tell everyone that he was writing a letter Julenissen, he would never know. Still, he supposed it was his fault that Thor still believed and that Thor had been completely mortified in front of their classmates.

They'd attempted to talk about it after the fact, in the end, they fought about it and then they'd given one another the silent treatment for 3 days. Solstice was getting closer and closer and there were traditions that he and Thor had always had that were just passing them by. They hadn't gone to pick out the Yuletree or gone skating on the lake and listened to the carolers or even spent the whole day at the shops in the market place trying to pick out gifts. Now, Loki was usually the one who could hold a grudge. His personal best had once been going nearly a month without speaking to his brother. This had particularly driven the elder prince crazy. After day two Thor had followed him around like a little lost puppy for days begging and whimpering for attention that Loki refused to give. It had actually, made Loki feel pretty good to know that he held such power over his brother, but now that the shoe was on the other foot, Loki felt like beating his head against a wall. He was the one who had ended up having a broken nose and yet he was over it. What right did Thor still have to be so angry with him? Finally, he decided to seek the blonde-haired prince out. If Thor had truly come to hate him then that was fine, but he should at least have the decency to say it to his face.

He found his older brother in one of the training salas. The oldest son of Odin seemed to be putting himself through a rigorous routine. He was lifting 300 lbs weights and practicing with his blade against the dummies that had been set up all around the room. Thor would leap in the air and ram his sword straight into one of the dummies' tummies and slice it right through, leaving the stuffing to fly out all over the place. He leap from wall to wall and decapitated a few of the other dummies. Soon the gymnasium was filled with nothing but straw flying all over the place. Loki cleared his throat as he looked in on the job that his brother had done on the poor sparring dummies. "Impressive," the raven-haired lad muttered. His crisp and articulate voice broke through Thor concentration. He finally looked up and noticed his brother's presence.

He scowled and rolled his eyes and moved on to his next work out. He went over to a 500lb punching bag that was dangling from the ceiling. He picked up a pair of weighted mitts that each probably weighed about another 50lbs. He growled as he started to swing at the bag. He landed hard and heavy punches that set the bag to rocking. The bag rocked back and forth and Thor's punches got swifter and stronger until he was jabbing at the bag. Eventually, the bag flew off the hinges and went sailing across the room. It went sailing right toward Loki and it would have undoubtedly taken Loki out had he not phased right through the heavy bag. The bag ended up going right through the wall. Thor looked around and Loki was nowhere to be found. He grunted and snorted pleased that his actions had scared the little snake off. He wiped under his nose and went back to his training. He started to pick up another one of the weighted sand bags and hang it up when all of a sudden he felt a light, chilly hand touching his bare back. "Thor," Loki muttered. "Can we talk, please?" the trickster asked.

Loki rolled his shoulder away from Loki's touch and he spun around and glared at Loki. Loki put his hands up in front of his face reflexively. He thought Thor was going to punch him in the face. "What do you want?" Thor spat.

"To talk," Loki stated flatly once more and he slowly lowered his guard.

The crown prince let out a fake laugh. He bent over and slapped his knee. "Right," he said with a wink as he snapped his finger, "Come here to convince me a troll is living in my closet?"

"Thor stop," Loki said shaking his head. "It wasn't like that. I wasn't trying to trick you..." He explained. Thor gave Loki a hard look. "Honestly, I wasn't...not with this not this time," he elaborated.

"Oh, but you admit you have tried to trick me before," Thor pressed.

"Thor, you know I've played tricks on you in the past that was just jesting...this...this was different," Loki defended himself.

Thor growled. He reached his hand out and pushed Loki away, "It sure was different!" he proclaimed. "You played the dirtiest trick on me that was possible! You had me believing in something that wasn't even real for years!" Prince Thor shouted. Prince Thor threw his hands up in the air and grabbed at his long golden tresses. "Why? Why? Why?" Thor asked his question was unrelenting. "What, you got some sick pleasure out of knowing that I was a gullible oaf who'd fall for anything you'd say?"

"No, Thor, no! I just knew that Julenissen meant so much to you...I...I...I never thought anyone would find out. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you or embarrass you," Loki tried to explain.

"Well, that's exactly what you did! Now I can never show m face in public again and I certainly can't trust you," Thor spat.

"Can't trust me," Loki pointed to himself. "Thor come on, I'm your brother," he reasoned.

"Are you? Brothers don't lie and trick and humiliate each other," Thor elaborated. Loki thought carefully about Thor's words. Perhaps that was true, but Thor was always humiliating him in front of others. He started to bring that up, but then he thought better of it.

"I was only trying to help, Thor," Loki said as he lowered his gaze. He fidgeted with his fingers.

"Yeah, you helped plenty," the prince sneered. "I'm a laughingstock," Thor went on. "Thanks to you," he pointed out.

Loki jumped back. His shoulders tensed and his posture grew rigid and then all at once it collapsed into a pitiful arched back. He wanted forgiveness, but he wasn't going to beg for it. "I said I'm sorry, Thor what more can I do?" He asked as he exhaled and held his hands in front of him.

"Nothing," Thor remarked as rolled his eyes. He reached down and easily lifted a dumbbell that must have surely weighed 200lbs. He started doing reps with the equipment and turned his back on his younger brother. "Just go," Thor said coldly as he raised the weights over his head and continued his work out.

Loki's young face was pinched with pain at his brother's rejection. Thor had never been this abrupt with him before. He'd rather Thor punch him in the face than this. "S-s-so what?" The younger prince of Asgard stammered. "You just hate me now?" He asked putting his hands out. Thor didn't answer right away he just kept silently counting his reps. Loki started to seethe and shake where he stood. "Well fine!" the dark-haired boy shouted back. "Don't talk to me! Go a head and hate me! I don't care," He protested and started stalk out of the gymnasium.

Prince Loki was by the door when he heard Thor call to him. "Loki!" Hearing Thor utter his name made him freeze In his tracks. He heard Thor blow out a pent-up breath like a gust of icy wind from the north. He dropped the heavy weight that he had been lifting and it fell to the ground with a loud crashing thud. "I don't hate you," he muttered. "I could never hate you," he admitted and laughed. Loki slowly started to turn around. "I'm just embarrassed and angry...but I..I don't hate you," he reminded him.

"I can live with that," Loki sighed in relief and a wide grin spread across his face.

Thor started to stroll over to him. He eventually was standing right next to his younger sibling. He clapped his thick, meaty hand around Loki's neck. " I guess I better get over it though, huh?" He shrugged his shoulders. "You're probably the only person who will want to spend any time with me now," he looked down his cheeks red. "Everyone else is going to think of me as a child," he chuckled and raked his hands through his hair.

"So you'll just have to show him your still the same Thor who's bested every one of them," Loki winked.

"Yeah, you're right," Thor said slowly, slyly. All of a sudden Loki found his feet being lifted off the floor. His body was tossed over Thor's shoulder. Before he could even squirm out of the hold, Thor flipped him onto the mat. He jumped on top of him and straddled him. "Like how I bested you?" He asked his blue eyes wide with amusement. He wiggled his fingers above Loki.

"No, no, no!" Loki warned with his emerald eyes large as saucers. Thor didn't pay any heed to his brother's warning. He immediately began running his fingers up and down Loki's body. Loki instantly, broke out into hysterical high-pitched squeals as he felt Thor's big fingers moving under his chin and armpits and stomach. "No! No! Please! No tickling!" Prince Loki yelped. Thor didn't stop he continued to enjoy the moment of making his younger brother writhe. Loki kicked and bucked and wiggled back and forth until finally let out one loud and irreverent snort.

Thor gave his classic move of popping Loki upside the head when the barn-yard sound was emitted. "Don't snort," Thor told him playfully.

The memory faded almost as quickly as it came and despite the fire that seemed to be washing over his body from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes. The self-proclaimed monarch found himself smiling. He could practically feel the butterflies in his stomach from being tickled so long and so hard. Loki closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door frame. He'd thought Thor hated him them, but they ended up laughing together.

This time things would not end on such a happy note. It would not end in a tickle fight. it would end in death. It would end with Thor's lifeless body bleeding out on the ground. He scowled. How had it come to this? To death? He hadn't wanted that when he let the Jotuns into Asgard during Thor's coronation. He'd only wanted to keep Thor from being king. He hadn't wanted to destroy his realm or take over another, he hadn't wanted death and destruction. On the contrary, he'd wanted to be loved. He'd wanted Odin to tell him that he'd loved him and Thor the same that he was glad he was his son, but in the end when he'd pleaded for Odin's love Odin told him no. He'd wanted to rule over the Midgardians in hopes that maybe they would give him the honor and esteem that the people of Asgard never did, but in the end, all that he had done was give Thor another realm where he would be loved and well received and where he would be scorned. He'd wanted to be loved once...but in the end all he'd earned was hate. He'd never been loved and he'd never had a family. It was all just a lie. That's all it had ever been he reminded himself. It didn't matter. There were only a few hours until sunrise and then Thor would be gone. Thor would no longer cast long shadows over him. He'd be free of his brother. He'd be free of every sweet memory they'd ever made that was designed to torment him. He'd never have to see him again. Thor would be dead. Convergence would come and the worlds would align and the Aether would be unleashed and Ragnarok would come. Asgard and all the Nine

Loki's eyes snapped open. "I HATE YOU TOO, THOR! I HATE YOU TOO!" He roared loudly. His voice alone filling the halls. He pulled his knees up against his chest and screamed it and screamed trying to convince himself that this was what he wanted.

---

Queen Frigga had managed to crawl into the bed next to her husband. She wrapped her arms around his body and curled herself around him like she had not done since they were young lovers. She allowed her tender fingers to play with his thinning gray hair and twist through his bushy beard. There were patches in it from where the healers had had to tape the tubes to keep them connected to his face. She stroked his cheeks. They were leathery and weathers and streaked with tears. As she looked at him she noted that the king's face was white enough to match the sheets that lined his bed. He had electrodes and probes attached to his forehead and chest. He had tubes, pipes and chutes down his nose and throat. His eyes were half-lidded and tears ran from them in torrential streams. She did her best to try and catch his tears, but they were too numerous, so she just let them fall. And she let her own fall as well.

She had tried to be strong for all for so long. She'd tried to be strong for Odin and for Asgard and to hold out hope for their sons. She tried to believe that Thor would be victorious that somehow he'd be able to rise and conquer Malekith and stop this destruction from befalling them all. But with every minute and second that ticked away bringing them closer and closer to Convergence they were also brought closer and closer to Ragnarok. The beautiful queen of Asgard didn't want to admit it, but she could feel a strange and eerie feeling starting to overtake her. It kept creeping up on her like the sea on shore. It had started as just nagging feeling in the back of her mind. It was easy to suppress. She pushed it back, but it kept coming back and as the hour grew later and later it was becoming impossible to ignore. She had never felt such dread and despair.

She had come close to feeling it before. Once she'd been a young maiden and had experienced heartbreak. She'd thought she would die of humiliation after she'd found out the young Viking who she had been courting was already married. But with the help of her sisters and her mother in a few weeks, she was able to overcome the heartbreak. She'd practically knocked on the door of despair and misery when she thought that Loki had died. He was her son, her baby boy, her heart. she loved him and Thor equally, but she and Loki had had such a special and close relationship it was a unique bond that they shared, that could never be replaced. The thought of her youngest son being dead was an insult to her motherhood. She felt personally responsible for her youngest son's untimely demise. She and Loki had been so close. She should have known, she should have seen, he should have been able to confide in her. She wondered when had Loki's powers of deception become so great that she was able to lie to her so easily and she never noticed. When Loki fell into the Void, her heart broke and part of it broke off into the Void with Loki. She would never be the same she knew. She had lost her child and she would never be whole again. She'd wanted to give into despair then. She wore it like a heavy cloak. For days she neither slept nor ate. She couldn't get out of bed. She couldn't bring herself to talk. Whenever she wanted to she would break into weeping. For days it seemed all she could do was lie in bed clutching Loki's helmet for dear life, sobbing and inwardly pleading for him to return. She felt as though she would surely give into despair, she dreamed of fading away and going to be with her boy who desperately needed her. Part of her wanted to die. It didn't seem right to live knowing that her beloved son was gone. A mother was not supposed to outlive her children. But then she remembered it had happened before she had had many miscarriages and each one of them left a cut in her soul, but this...this was a mortal wound. Loki wasn't born of her body, but he was born of her heart. From the moment Odin had placed him in her arms she had loved him. From the moment she'd heard his pitiful, little cry she'd had innate desire to protect him. From the moment he first smiled at her and slept upon her breast she vowed that she would make sure that this little, frozen bundle would know every happiness and joy that he was almost denied, but she'd failed her vows and she didn't deserve to live. She couldn't live with that guilt.

But then she remembered Odin and Thor. She thought of how much they must have been hurting. She thought of their grief. They were both broken after having actually witnessed Loki's suicide. She couldn't abandon them in their hour of need. She thought of Asgard, her kingdom had suffered a blow. The infiltration of the Frost Giants had scared the people the destruction of the Bifrost and Loki's death. Asgard couldn't handle any more crises and neither could her husband and son.

She thought of her love for them. She couldn't add to their grief by allowing herself to slip away. Odin was already burdened with the guilt of Loki's death. He had to be strong and stoic in the face of their grave loss for the people of Asgard, but she could see the strain it placed on him. She knew that her own death would put him over the edge. That would leave Thor all alone. She couldn't imagine doing that to him. He was still her son too. He was her strong, proud, warrior son, but in many ways, he was still just a boy. Thor was still so much a boy, rambunctious, naive and so completely dependent upon the people he loved to be there for him. His brother's death was shattering for him. he felt guilty and responsible and he felt sorrow. He needed comfort. She could not leave her son so alone. She wanted to live and be with them. She wanted to be by Odin's side when he retired for ruling over Asgard. The two of them had always talked about leaving the Imperial City for a few years and building a large manor in the countryside or staying at the Southern Palace. Honestly, she doubted they ever would...not permanently at least, she loved the hill country where she'd grown up, but she was a far cry from that bumpkin girl now, they both loved seashore, but it was supposed to be a holiday respite, not their permanent home. Besides, she wanted to experience having grandchildren. She wanted to see Thor's coronation day and see him become the king he was born to be. She wanted to see him fall in love and get married. The mention of this mortal woman allowed her to see that he was growing up and was maybe ready for love. She couldn't imagine how much it would hurt Thor and Odin if she and Loki left them. They needed her and Asgard still needed her she knew. So she girded up her strength once more. She squashed the feeling of despair. She had to go on living. And then she believed deep in her heart that Loki would have wanted her to go on living. So, she did. She kicked the sinking pit of despair to the side. She sidestepped its terrible trap. And somehow hope once again spring forth within her soul. And although she never uttered the words out loud, in the back of her mind, in the tiniest crack and sliver in her heart she always believed that Loki would return to her.

She believed that she would be reunited with him in Valhalla, that there her son would wait with his head cocked to the side, a smug, smirk tugging on his lips and when she saw him, she'd run to meet him and then he'd run to meet her. Just like he did when he was but a wee lad. They'd embrace with laughter and tears. She'd cup his narrow face in between her hands and shower him with her kisses and he'd tell her he was alright and that he would never leave her again. It was her silent comfort and with that thought in her heart, she knew that despair would have no foothold on her.

And then by some divine act of Providence, her hope was once again rekindled. After a little over a year of just holding on to a dream and muddling through her mourning and slowly trying to find pleasure in life again, she received the wonderful news that her son was alive. He was alive! He was alive! Her heart leaped for joy. When Odin and Thor told her she wanted to go to Midgard herself and bring her sweet prince home, but the son who had returned to her was not the same son who she had lost. He was corrupt and evil and twisted. He was on the earth wreaking havoc, killing trying to lord over people. The things he had done they were unspeakable. The people were afraid of him, they called him a monster. The Midgardians despised him and called him a murderous villain. Odin had given up on their son. She knew that Odin loved him, but as king, he had to enforce justice and Loki was unrepentant. He thought that there was no good left in the young man, but she'd...she'd never believed that. She'd refused to believe that all that was left inside her son was evil. She wouldn't give up hope. She wouldn't give into such despair. She'd believed that there so good in him up until now.

Queen Frigga remembered all those feelings. They smothered her now. She remembered seeing Loki dragged before the court in chains, hearing the way he spoke, she remembered caring for him when he was injured from the cruel beating he'd had to endure and he lashed out at her. She remembered when he set fire to the dungeons and drove those poor soldiers half-mad. But through all of that, she kept the faith and knew that there was still a smart, kind, sweet, brave young man still. She'd seen that goodness in him. It was there, the moment he came back. He came back and healed her when she could feel herself slipping away. Why? Why had he done it? Why had he saved her then only to rip her heart out now?

The queen of Asgard started to sob into Odin's chest. She squeezed him tighter and tighter. She clung to him desperately. She felt as if she let go then Odin would disappear and Ragnarok would be upon them. He felt so light, so lifeless like he could just float away instantly. The tears continued to trickle down her face. Her crying grew harder. The queen tried to stifle herself. She tried to bite her lip to keep from screaming, but no she was unable to suppress herself. She let out a hoot and holler as tears poured from her beautiful, blue eyes and soaked into Odin's regal garments. She clung to his garments. Her fingernails dug deep into the folded fabrics of his thin robe. She pressed her cheek against his chest.

She tried to snuggle under Odin's stiff limb, wanting to feel warm and safe and protected. A chill ran over her body. Sorrow engulfed her. When Loki fell into the Void, she always knew she'd see him again. Whether in this life or the next, she knew one day she would be reunited with the love of her life and her heart would be made whole once more. She knew that her son's heart was noble and that although his mind was filled with hurt and rage and madness in the end he was still a good man. She knew that Loki would find his way into the halls of Valhalla and there the two of them would one day reside together happily as mother and son again. But now...now... after all he had done...after the atrocities he had so willfully, so willingly and so happily how could there be any seat at the table in Valhalla's grand banquet hall? No surely, she would never know her son again as he would have to make his home in the realm of Hela. "Oh, Odin," she sobbed. Her voice was a whisper. "I'm so sorry," she wept against him. "I cannot believe it has come to this," she expressed. "I never wanted this," she confessed. He fingers caressed his weathered cheek. "I cannot believe it has come to this," she repeated. "Loki...Loki," her voice broke and trailed off. She balled her hand into a tight fist on Odin sleeping tunics. "Loki has done such terrible things," she breathed. "Can you see him?" she inquired in her husband's ear. "Can you see what he's done? How he's aligned himself with that beast Malekith? How he's tortured his brother? Oh!" she cried. She felt her stomach twist in terrible knots. Her chest was growing tight and she felt like she could barely breathe. "Thor is barely alive," the queen continued. "The Dark-Elves...the Dark-Elves," she rasped. "They are murderous, ruthless scoundrels and they've taken our poor son and beat him within an inch of his life," she wept. She wept long and hard. "But what makes matters worse," Asgard's lovely queen started, but she found herself barely able to speak. She shook her head as she tried to collect her thoughts and find her tongue. "It was all on Loki's orders," she whispered in horror. She put one hand over her mouth as if she was horrified by the fact that she had actually had to utter such words. Her other hand still held Odin tightly. Oh Odin," she went on. "If I wouldn't have seen it with my own eyes. If I wouldn't have beheld Loki's absolute indifference...I would never have believed it," the words tumbled out of her mouth and her lips trembled. "He sat there and watched...he watched Odin, he watched as those animals whipped and slapped and humiliated Thor." she sobbed.

The wife of Odin had used one of her enchanted mirrors to peer in and behold what was happening at the palace. She was grateful for the fact that the magic mirror only allowed one to glance out of it for a very limited time. She was most certain that had she gazed upon any more of the dreadful sight of her oldest son being tormented and humiliated in his own home at the hands of those bloodless fiends that she would have keeled over and died. She surely would have had the magical instrument not shut itself off. She was already on her knees crying into her palms after just beholding ten minutes of the tyrannical actions that her son had suffered at the hands of his brother. She wanted to transport herself there. Get in front of Loki, challenge him and tell him to treat her with such fury and venom as he had unleashed upon his brother. She wished she could have transported herself there and taken the brunt of Loki's tirade. She would have switched places with her firstborn son if she could, but alas she was stuck in the Southern Palace. Powerless to do anything to save either one of her children.

"I...I...I...I tried to do everything I could think of to stop this, my love, I truly did," Queen Frigga expressed. She nodded slowly to herself. Her soft hands reached toward her husband's rough and calloused fingers. They did not respond to her touch, they remained chilly, limp and still. Frigga bit her lips. She didn't want to let him go. New tears pricked behind her eyes and she fought hard to hold them in. She was losing him. She refused to. She couldn't. It wasn't supposed to end like this, not for him. Not for her husband. Not for Asgard's strong and intrepid ruler, not for the protector of the Nine Realms. She sucked in a sharp breath and fought hard to control her emotions, but it was overwhelming. The water trickled down her cheeks and chin. She entwined her fingers with Odin's. She brought the back of his hand up to her lips and allowed her lips to linger on his knuckles. 'I ripped it," she whispered like it was a secret. "I ripped the tapestry," she expressed with a quick breath. She smiled a sort of watery smile. Her lips quivered and her hand shook even while Odin's was clasped firmly in it. "I once had a vision," she started. "I...I...I never told you...I never told anyone," she admitted nearly timidly. "During the Cold War with the Frost Giants...I was granted a vision," she started to inform her husband. "it had been such a long time then since I'd had one of my premonitions. They were always such terrible dreams," she recalled. "I was so grateful when they stopped," she exhaled, "but they came back to me nonetheless. Oh, Odin," she shook her head her weeping became all the more intense, "I was so scared when I saw that vision then. I saw Laufey kill you," she murmured to him. She squeezed his hand as the confession rang from her lips. It broke her heart when she did not feel his tight and reassuring grip on her fingers. "I saw it! I saw it! I saw it!" She cried as she shook her head. "And I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to weave it, but every night I was plagued with that monstrous dream, but I couldn't keep reliving it." Frigga placed a shaky hand on her temple, "Every night...Every time I closed my eyes... there it was, the terrible vision of your death," she rolled her eyes as tried to swipe away at the tears. "I couldn't bear it. It was dreadful, every time he found a new way to kill you, but kill you just the same he did," she confessed. "I couldn't take it any longer, I knew of only one way to get rid of my visions. It was the way that the priest had told me of long ago when i was just a girl living in the hill country and that was to weave it into the tapestry, but I knew once it was woven that whatever I wove would come to pass," Frigga could feel herself starting to choke on her words. "Oh my husband, I didn't know what to do. I felt like I was being driven mad. Perhaps I should have been stronger, perhaps I should have been braver, I should have fought harder against my urges...my compulsions to weave " she thought out loud, "but I wove it into the tapestry none the less, against my better judgment." The queen hung her head sorrowfully. "You see that is my burden, Odin...my gift and my curse," the royal woman breathed. "I wove it." she stated trying to keep a stiff-upper-lip. "Then I prayed and pleaded with the Norns to make this vision untrue. And then my prayers were answered," her tone grew lighter for but a moment. "My hope restored. You were returned to me," fresh tears spilled down the queen s face and she managed to smile. "And you brought home our son," Frigga's voice was caught in her chest and she could feel a tight lump forming in her throat. She mashed her lips together. Loki was a far cry from the sweet infant that Odin had placed in her arms all those years ago. "The curse of the tapestries seemed to have been broken and i thought no more about it...until this day," she whispered fearfully. Queen Frigga slammed her eyes shut and she squeezed her free hand into a fist. "But I should have known," she ground out bitterly. "I should have known that visions are seldom what they seem and that fate can never truly be changed," she expressed.

Frigga hiccuped. It hurt her heart to think that there was nothing she could do to save her husband and to save her kingdom and the very realms from destruction. "Some things are inevitable, I suppose,' she shrugged. "Now, the house of Laufey is about to destroy that house, Odin," the blonde-haired queen shook her head and put her hand to her lips. "I hate it, Odin! I hate it!" The queen raged, her balled fist slammed into the plush, padded bed. "I hate that we have been born only to die in these terrible times. I hate that after all these years of you fighting on the side of truth and justice and peace that your reign will end in fire and brimstone. I hate that the people of Asgard don't even have a fighting chance," she murmured, "I hate the fact that all this has been brought about by Loki," she went on. With every word, her fist furiously pounded against the soft mattress. "I hate the fact that Loki is going to...going to...going to..." She felt her breath get caught in her throat. She couldn't breathe and her windpipe felt constricted. She tried to speak. She tried to force herself to utter the words, but somehow her mouth refused to say the terrible truth. Finally, Frigga made herself utter the terrible words. "Kill Thor," the evil statement fumbled around in her mouth and tumbled off of her tongue and cut into her soul. Her stomach ached abominably and her heart was soon a flutter with palpitations. The queen raised her hands and covered her face. She began to wail. Her crying was boisterous, unabashed and pitiful.

It was more than she could even fathom and more than she could endure. The two of them would never know how much it grieved and pained her to see them fight as youngsters. She loved them both so much, she loved them differently and uniquely, but her love for both her sons was unyielding. They were both a part of her and watching them fight was like watching one part of her body attack another. She had grown up with many siblings and she knew that children were going to fight and bicker. She and her sisters and brothers had not always played nice when they were youngsters and she suspected they'd probably have continued to have skirmishes more often had it not been for the fact that she had become queen. Being queen was not without its perks. One of which was being able to squash petty arguments. Besides, her family was much keener on gaining her favor to get the things they wanted rather than fighting with her now. Honestly, she didn't know how her mother had ever endured having all 10 of her children being in disputes at times. It tore her in two to behold Thor and Loki fighting. Although, their disagreements were more ofttimes than not. When they were younger it was easy for her to quite literally force them to kiss and make up, but as they got older, Odin discouraged her from interfering. He told her that they needed to settle their own battles and scores. She knew he was right of course, but all the same, she wished she had intervened more now. Look how far this had all gotten. Look what years of pent-up anger and frustration and shame had done to Loki. Look where it had led them. Finally, Loki and Thor were in the ultimate battle, but it would not end as it had when they were boys. It would not end with end with shouts and slammed doors, blackened eyes and wounded pride. It would end with bloodshed, cold bodies, dilapidated buildings and a world left in ruins.

The wife of Odin managed to calm herself long enough to speak again. She wiped the tears away from her face. She took a deep breath and folded her hands elegantly in her lap. "But what I hate the most, Odin," she began as she spoke harshly through her teeth, "Is the fact that this means that maybe...maybe..." The queen shook her head. "Maybe Loki...Loki was never ours at all," she muttered in a susurrus tone. she brought her hands up to her chest and clutched at her heart. She couldn't believe that she had allowed such an awful statement to form on her lips, but there she had said it and she couldn't take it back. "What was he? Some changeling?" she demanded of her unconscious husband. She'd grown up with stories of changelings all along as a child. She believed that she had known a few unfortunate women who had experienced having such a child. Loki was indeed a changeling. He was born with the innate ability to take any form. With his clever tongue and sharp mind, he had been gifted to deceive anybody. For so long he'd taken on the form of the man he'd raised him to be. He'd kept up the ruse longer than most, but there always came a time when a changeling revealed himself...showed his true colors.. "What was he?" She questioned further. "A cuckoo in our nest?" she demanded. her breath ragged. She looked down at her beloved husband, who still had the artificial breath of life hooked to his nostrils. Queen Frigga's beautiful lips twisted into a deep scowl. Cuckoo babies were planted in nests of other birds. There the baby cuckoo would run its adoptive parents ragged while they tried to feed the insatiable appetite of the cuckoo. All the while the cuckoo would grow, plump and fat and strong. The other babies would be left neglected and die, soon the parents would die as well since they could never find rest while trying to feed the cuckoo baby. Cuckoos were planted only to bring death. But sometimes the cuckoo brought death to themselves. Sometimes, a young cuckoo would cause its poor foster parents to die before it reached maturity and the greedy, cruel bird ended up starving itself.

Frigga left louder and more openly. She was so ashamed of the thoughts that had crept into her mind. But what else could she be left to think? The things Loki had done were so evil, so vile and reprehensible what other conclusions could the queen draw. How could she reconcile these sickening deed that that tyrant who called himself a king with the sweet little boy, who sat on her lap, played in her hair and begged her for a story or the youth who was not only her son, but her student or the young man who had been companion, who didn't count it robbery to spend an afternoon with his mother having tea. They could not have been the same person. There was no way that rabid animal who raged with bloodlust could have been her son. They could not have been one and the same she could not bring her mind to comprehend such a matter. She put her hands to her temple. She shook her head. She looked up with tears making the vision of her sapphire eyes blurry. No. There was no way. It could not have been the same person. Perhaps the Loki she loved had truly died when he'd fallen into the Void. Perhaps, Thanos had resurrected him to be something foul and evil, filthy and unnatural. Or perhaps the son that she'd loved so intensely, so deeply and truly had never existed. It was a painful thought. And the Queen of Asgard who was as poised and refined and dignified and dainty of a woman as their ever truly could be cursed inwardly for the imaginations that stirred in her soul.

"No, no. NO." Queen Frigga muttered sternly to herself. "That can't be true," she reminded herself and Odin. "I can't believe that, Odin," she stated firmly. "I refuse to believe that," she whispered to herself like she was saying a prayer. "I'll never believe all that was in Loki was evil all along," she confessed. She raised her head. She held it high and proud once more, the way a woman who was the wife of a king should. "I know that there was good in him and that there was love in his heart," she expressed. She tried to hold her voice steady, but it was starting to warble. "Even if there isn't anymore," she shrugged and she let out a pained laugh if only to keep from screaming. "I...I...I" she started as she once again took to stroking her husband's cheeks. Even deep within the Oversleep tears still tumbled from his one eye and rolled over his leathery, bronzed, wrinkled flesh. She did her best to kiss the tears away, but forever fresh, salt drop that she caught on her lips that were chapped and cracked, for her make-up was smeared and runny, another one 5 fell before she could pucker her lips once more. "I only wish that his vengeance would have ended with you and I," she breathed. "I could have taken Loki's hate, I could have taken had Loki never wished to speak with me again," she confessed and bobbed her head. "It would have hurt me, but I could have in time have learned to have accepted his rejection. Even if Loki had tried to kill us...say he would have even succeeded," she proposed solemnly. "I could have gone into Valhalla and born our son no ill will," she went on. "I know you could have down the same," she muttered. "But what he has done to Thor," the queen's voice broke like would cracking into splinters. She let out a pained gasp. "Why can't he see?" she questioned as she forced her eyes to gaze up at the ceiling. "Why can't he see...that Thor was just a child same as he? Thor knew nothing! He never lied to Loki...he never deceived him," she mashed her lips together. "He loved Loki as only a true brother could...it is not right that he has to die at his brother's hands...tis monstrous!" She wept. "he could have released the vengeance upon us!" she proclaimed and beat her breast. "But why...why...why...why...why on our people? What have the farmers and the shopkeepers and the midwives and the butchers and bakers and serf and nobles and the children..." Queen Frigga's face twisted. "The children..." she murmured. She was called the all-mother and indeed the children of Asgard were precious to her. She thought of the little children, her nieces and nephews, children like the servant girl Pita who had tended her. Children who had hopes and dreams and wishes for the future. Children who were supposed have grown up in this their great land, the mightiest of the Nine Realms. it was a supposed to be a place where dreams could come true, now it was simply a place where nightmares were born. Their entire race could be wiped out and those that did survive...well...would they have a future or would their time in life simply be served as slaves to the Dark-Elves? "I'd give my body to be burned if I thought it would save the children of Asgard," Queen Frigga pledged.

And it was true. The beautiful wife of Odin would have done anything to save her people and to save her sons, but alas she felt utterly powerless. Convergence would take place in just a few short hours, the armies of Asgard were completely overwhelmed, the in sheer force alone the Dark-Elves could easily overrun them as they wished to. And the Aether it was an infinity stone, unable to be destroyed, it could merely be quelled and the only weapons powerful enough to put the powers of the Aether into stasis save for Mjolnir and Gungnir and she had no access to those weapons now. There was nothing that she could do. There was nothing anyone could do. All it seemed that they could do was sent and wait for the inevitable.

Frigga bit her lips, she covered her mouth. She cried so much that she felt like a wrung out cloth. She had nothing left in her to cry and yet the weight of despondency rested heavy on her heart. It sat on her like a heavy cloak and it seemed to smother any tiny kindling of hope that tried to burn inside her. Frigga didn't know if hr kingdom would survive or if the Nine Realms would survive. What could any of them do to keep Ragnarok at bay. Convergence was certain so and now Ragnarok seemed as if it was etched in stone. She loathed the feeling of hopeless the rose from deep inside her and washed over her soul. It was like a powerful current and hope was nothing but a tiny broken lifeboat, with the hole in the bottom of the boat and soon it would be sunk for sure and drowned. Still, Queen Frigga tried to find the tiny spark of faith. If there was any hope to be had and if there was any way to save them all it was not within her power to do so, but it was within her sons' power to do so. Thor war was the only one who could wield Mjolnir, but as long as he remained Loki's prisoner it was very unlikely that Thor would be able to harness the power of lightning and thunder that he had been endowed with. And that meant that the true power to save them lied not within the hammer, but within Loki. Loki would have to make a choice. He would have to determine in and of himself that he didn't want this. Then and only then would there be even a glimmer of a chance that this dreadful event would not take place then Loki would have to be the one to stand up and fight for them. "I don't want to give up," she expressed breathlessly. "I...I...I" she played with his beard. Her touch light and gentle as her slim fingers tangled around the wired, woolly, white whiskers on his chin. "I want to believe that our son will save us," she qualified. She bowed her head. "But," he breath hitched and her voice somehow got lodged in her throat. She shook her head. "But time is no longer on our side," she elaborated.

The blonde-haired wife of Odin shuddered and sighed. She curled tighter next to the king. She wrapped her arms around him as tight as she could and it pained her how her husband's body remained frigid and rigid. His cold, unresponsiveness was more than she could truly stand. She pushed her hands away from Odin's his form. She slowly started to hug herself. "Oh, but he's so wicked now, Odin," she spoke out-loud finishing the conversation that she had been having in her head. "He's so...so...heartless, Odin," she admitted. Her head dropped and she grabbed her own heart. She felt like it had been pierced by one of Loki's dagger. Her lips quivered and she shook her head slowly. "He's so far gone," her voice shuddered. She looked up. Her eyes were wide and nearly petrified. "I...I...I don't think I can reach him," she confessed. It hurt her to say so. When she began her role in motherhood she had been fearful of taking on nannies and nursemaids. The thought of her children being coddled and loved by someone else...thinking that they would take comfort in another' arms over hers or trust someone over her was not an option. In time, with the advice of Odin, her counselors, friends and family members she had realized that her queenly duties would require that she utilize nursemaids and other caretaking staff that was at her disposal, but all and all she had always done her utmost to be there for her children. She had always felt like she could be there for them and give them what they needed. She had always been the one to calm her sons' fears, ease their troubles and guide them. Particularly, with Loki. She wasn't naive enough to believe that her younger son hadn't kept secrets from her, especially as he became older, but the essence of their relationship was one of trust and she always knew that if pressed she could get the truth from the lie smith, now she felt helpless to do anything to lead her son off of this dark road.

She threw out her hands in frustration. She shook them violently in agitation as if she was reaching out toward her youngest son and trying to shake him...shake some sense into him, shake him awake from this dreadful nightmare, but her hands remained empty it became more than apparent that she could not reach her son. "It's like..." She started her hands groping, her mind fumbling trying to find the exact words. "It's like...there's some dark magic...some impenetrable fog that's over his mind...where he can't see logic, he can't find reason...he can't see," she waved her hands in front of her face. "He's completely blind...blind! BLIND to the Chaos that he will unleash on the realms!" She proclaimed. Frigga sucked in a sharp breath, her big, sapphire eyes dilated. "Or maybe he does...maybe he does," she said with tears streaming down her face. "maybe he does...maybe he does, Odin," she repeated over and over again in disbelief. She raised her fingertips to her lips and toyed with her mouth. "Maybe it is what he wants," she shrugged and threw up her hands.

"His heart is coated in ice, covered in stone and seared with a hot iron. His conscience is gone," she stated flatly. "I honestly, don't even know if Loki's still in there," she sighed. "Perhaps he is gone," she expressed her voice breaking just a bit. "Vanished...into the void," she said as she made a disappearing motion with her right hand. "I think that monster Thanos just snuffed him out," she finally said. The more and more the queen thought about it the more and more she could see the Mad Titan's influence on her younger son's mind. She'd known the Loki had suffered mercilessly at that hands of the being they called Thanos. Although Loki had never shared the nature of his torture, she'd seen the ramifications of the time he'd spent in the void. He was paranoid and petrified, unable to sleep, plagued by vicious nightmares and his mind...his mind had been completely warped and twisted by that creature of darkness. She'd longed to believe that the Mad Titan had placed her son under some evil spell. But a spell could be broken and what Loki had become there seemed to be no snapping him out of. He was simply a monster...a savage monster just like Thanos.

In the tales she'd heard so long ago, Thanos was desperate for the throne. He hadn't appreciated his role as the right hand to the leader of titans. He desired more and ruthlessly so. He murdered the entire of the royal line of Muselpelheim. And even when he had taken control of that realms he was not satisfied. He was cruel and heartless to the people, enslaving them, forcing them to work and toil endlessly. He wanted more and he spread his wrath throughout the realms. He would have conquered the entirety of the branches of Yggdrasil had it not be for the fact that Odin grandfather, King Mykoff had summoned the power to banish the crazed titan from the realms, he would have taken over and brought endless death and suffering to the Nine Realms. And now Loki was just like him, ravenous for power, greedy for gain and prominence, coveting adoration and accolades. He was just like Thanos, he would do anything to get what he wanted. He would stop at nothing. Even if it meant fulfilling the prophecy of Ragnarok and bringing fire and brimstone to rain down upon the realms, even if it meant watching volcanoes erupt, earthquakes come and the seas rise and swell and overtake the land, even if it meant killing off 2/3 of the population of the Nine Realms. Even if it meant destroying them all and digging a hovel for his own soul in the deepest parts of the region of Helheim, Loki didn't care because he wanted a throne. He was just like Thanos.

"I can't reach him, Odin, Thor couldn't reach him, Dagmar for all the love he once bore for her even she couldn't reach him," The queen went on. "Oh, but Odin," she flicked the tears from her eyes and turned her glance to her husband. She flung her body back on top of his. She laid her head up his breast and clung to his regal robes for dear life. Her heart sank low into the cavity of her body. She could feel it falling into the pit of her stomach. The king's breathing was so shallow. She couldn't even make it out over the sound of the hum of the ventilator. His chest seemed to barely move. The rise and fall of his chest was not even enough to raise a feather. His shields had completely fallen and he was ever so vulnerable to the shadow of death that seemed to loom about him. The power of the all-father was slipping from his body like water through fingers. It was oozing through every pore. She was losing him. She clutched his hand tightly, laced her fingers through his calloused ones desperate to hold onto him and whatever life still was left to linger in his body. "I know you are weak," she said slowly. "I know you are weary," she confirmed as she tugged at his fingers. "I know you are fighting because you are a fighter," she gave his limp hand a squeeze. "And you're strong, but I also know you have grieved. I know seeing all of this transpire is more than you can stand. It breaks your heart. You did all in your power to protect the Nine Realms. To make it a beacon of hope for all the realms to see. I know that when you brought Loki here, you brought him here to bring peace and he has become a weapon of vengeance..." She rasped. Her warm breath brushing against his cool flesh. She nodded. She held her husband's hand and looked at his face, it was waned and strained, his chapped lips arching into a tortured grimace. "You feel like you failed...like you failed as a warrior, as a king, as a father...a son," Frigga explained. "You were so much like Bor," she rubbed the back of her hand across his cheeks. "You wanted to do everything like him, be just like him, honor his memory and keep peace and stability in the Nine Realms...now it seems like you have not...you feel like you've disappointed him," she paused.

"But you should know..." She began to speak in earnest, she held his hand as she implored him. "You should know," she said her voice shaking. "That Loki...Loki feels the same...he felt like he failed you...and that's what had led him down this terrible path," her breathing grew quicker. "it's not your fault, my husband," Frigga gasped, she shook her head and held tightly to his hand. She raised his chilly fingers to her cheek. She peeled his fingers back so that the rubbed against her face and caressed her skin. She forced them to trace her jawline. "It's not your fault," she murmured once again. She couldn't allow the king to think that he had led them to this tragic end. "You were a good father to him, Odin," she whispered tenderly as she smiled down at him. His mouth simply dangled open. "You weren't perfect," Frigga muttered and shook her head and batted her eyes to keep the tears at bay. "You made mistakes," she mumbled and nodded and frowned. "We both did," she sighed..."But you loved him," she knew. "Oh Odin, he needs you! He needs to hear from you...Odin, if you can still hear me, my love, please...I...I...I don't know if Loki will heed you...perhaps he is too far gone...he may be too far gone, but I know you...I know you would never give up without a fight, Odin," she gave his hand a firm squeeze. "It could be the last chance...the last chance for Asgard..." She expressed. "And for our son, Loki."

Queen Frigga laid her head down upon Odin's breast. Even with her ear against his flesh, she could scarcely make out the beat of his heart. His skin was cool to the touch, he was pale as a ghost, he was clammy. Despite her pleading, she knew that Odin was fading fast. The longer he remained in the Oversleep, the further and further he was starting to drift from this life. The healers had worked tirelessly, they stood over him working their ministrations, dousing him in tranquil healing waters, rubbing him down in ancient herbs, reciting the mystic chants and doing everything they could to keep the all-father alive, but the hour grew later and later. Dawn seemed to be swiftly approaching and the great king's condition seemed to fare no better. Instead, Odin was growing more and more ill with every passing moment. She didn't know how much longer she could force him to hold on. Or how much longer he even could.

"Your Majesty," Healer Onrac's deep voice broke the silence and intimacy of the queen and the king in their last few moments as he entered into the queen's presence. He was waned looking. Onrac was a stale, stately, strapping man, but the past few days had caused him to lose weight. He'd been sweating buckets, going without food and sleep for days on end and even retching constantly. In a less than a week the healer had seemed as if he'd dropped a weight class. Even as he came to meet the queen, his bald head was sweating profusely, his tunics were covered with blood and all manner of other bodily fluids. The royal physician was a man with a rich, deep skin tone, but even his vast earthen color had been washed out from worry and fatigue. He was exhausted. His eyelids were terribly heavy. They flapped constantly and they were so weighed down that he could scarcely hold them open. Deep, dark bags and circles were deeply entrenched under his eyes.

He had not slept in days. He couldn't remember the last time that he had slept. He had encouraged the queen to sleep, encouraged the rest of the healing staff to sleep. He had admonished everyone to try to go about with their time as normally as possible. He had been sure to tell them to eat and drink and sleep and bathe, he informed all the nobles and servants how stress could adversely affect their systems and they must all be in tip-top shape and form lest they be called to fight in the uprising against Ragnarok It was solid and reasonable advice. He hoped that they had heeded his warnings, but truth be told he was the worse kind of patient himself for he was the kind of patient who never listened to the healers' orders. He had found himself unable to sleep, to eat. How could he? The world that he had always known was crumbling before his very eyes. He was living in the end times. He was responsible for keeping the all-father alive...for trying to revive him and cause him to wake and keep Ragnarok from wiping them all out. It was more than he had ever thought would be his responsibilities as the queen's royal healer. It was a terrible burden to bear and he was on the verge of breaking under the pressure.

As he entered into the king's bedchamber he bowed before the queen. He got down on one knee and put his hand to his heart and his body shook with even the simple action. His breathing was heavy. He kept his gaze downcast. He averted his heavy brown eyes. He should have knocked. This was the king's bedchamber he was surely losing all sense of protocol, barging in on the king and queen of Asgard In their chambers unannounced. He wanted to blame the grave faux pas on his lack of sleep and he supposed that was the case, lack of sleep heightened dread, sense of urgency, but that was surely no excuse. He knew that there were some kingdoms where mean had been drawn and quartered for much less.

For her part, Queen Frigga was quite startled by the abrupt entrance of the healer. She was holding Odin so tightly, their bodies pressed so close together, the sheets so rumpled, well the scene could have looked quite provocative had it not been for the knowledge of the dire situation that they were in. Queen Frigga fumbled to collect herself. She pushed herself off from lying cradled against the king's chest. She fixed her own disheveled nightgown, pulled one of her ornate silk robes carefully over her exposed tanned arms, swung her legs out from under the covers, dipped her feet into the slippers by the bed and swiped at her puffy, red eyes. "Yes! Yes, Master Healer," the queen of Asgard tried to address as formally as she could.

"I...I...I," his bald head faced the floor. "Forgive me, your highness, I did not mean to," he sputtered.

Queen Frigga cleared her throat. She sat up proud and straight on the bed and slowly shifted to the chair that was at her dear husband's bedside. "You have news healer Onrac," the queen spoke. She gestured gracefully with her hands. Healer Onrac finally managed to look up. The wife of Odin certainly looked drained, her hair was slightly messy, her clothing not so elegantly draped about her. Her eyes were bloodshot, red, puffy and full of bags, her little nose was red. The paint on her face was smeared, there were creases in her brow that seemed newly formed and her face though beautiful somehow seemed to have aged several centuries overnight. There were wrinkles and lines there that he had never noticed before and he had always studied the queen's appearance as her personal healer it was his duty to do just that. He even noted that her golden tendrils were starting to lighten, there were a few noticeable gray streaks around her temples and forehead. Still, despite the physical toll that their present state had taken on her, Onrac was astounded by her strength and serenity in this moment. She was the same proud, strong, regal woman he'd always known her to be. He was grateful for that...had she been any different...had she been a wreck...he would have no hope for any of them at all. Despite their horrific circumstances, she was doing all she could to remain an anchor for their realm. He was grateful to her for that. The middle-aged Aesir man offered her a faint smile, he hadn't the strength of words to give her true thanks. The Queen of Asgard returned the expression, although her heart was sorrowful, she managed to form a tiny grin on her lips. "Have you any news?" her voice came out frailer than she had hoped it would, but there was a desperation in her tone as she repeated the question.

The healer gulped. He nodded his head. He found his tongue once again. "yes, yes, Your Majesty," he spoke once more. Her longtime friend's voice was uneven and full of weariness. He needed to rest she knew and yet she wondered how any could rest in this critical hour. She did not speak, but wide eyes and gaping mouth and the slight gasping sound of her baited breath urged the medical expert to speak on, "My staff and I have just finished running some test," he announced. He made an attempt to rise to his feet. his legs were weak. They nearly buckled. He was glad that they did not give out in front of his queen. "The king's blood is septic," he stated. It was a cold hard fact, painful as it was there was no other way to say it. "The king is continuing to destabilize," he expressed.

"What?"

"I...there isn't much we can do for that, milady," he expressed. "I suppose we could attach him to a cleanser," he tossed out the option. it just struck him. "We could infuse it with healing water, but he's so weak my queen," he shook his head.

"I know," Queen Frigga replied solemnly. Her head dropped and although she was a pillar of strength and serenity, her eyes housed immense sorrow. Her hand reflexively reached to grip Odin's. It was large and limp and hung off the edge of the bed. It was so cold it felt like death.

"There is more..." He began.

"Go on," The queen urged as he hand clung to that of the king's.

"The Odin Force is fading from him," he spoke rapidly. "his energy readings are very low, even on a cellular level there are hardly any traces of the king's powers," he explained.

"Can you put back up the shield?" Queen Frigga asked.

"Yes," Healer Onrac bobbed his bald head. "That task would be simple enough, my queen and if that is the course of action that you want, my healers and I will work tirelessly to restore the shields," he breathed.

"I am sensing a but in there somewhere, Healer Onrac," Queen Frigga replied.

The healer swallowed deeply, "Yes, milady," he whispered his answer. He could not meet the queen's gaze any longer. He looked down at his hands, at his sandals and toes, at the floor anywhere but the gorgeous cerulean eyes that were red around the rims. "The shield can protect the all-father while he is in the Oversleep, keep his powers stabilized, provide him with a healing cocoon until his strength is restored..."

"Yes, Onrac that is exactly the point," Queen Frigga prompted once more.

"But, Your Majesty, you see that is just it... the all-father has drifted beyond the state of the Oversleep," he stated. "In the Oversleep, the king can still hear and see all that transpires around him. He can project his consciousness, he can even still command his ravens and have an influence on events..." The healer told Frigga things which she already knew.

"Onrac, that is why we must preserve whatever Odin-force that still remains in the king. Surely, you see how it is crucial to our survival. Without it, Ragnarok is certain so..."

"Yes, my queen," Onrac nodded, But that is what I mean...his Odin Force is so weak, so low...that...that...that this can scarcely be seen as an Oversleep. His readings are so low, my queen...his brain scans are erratic," Healer Onrac shrugged. "Sometimes he seems to have a surge of brain activity and at other times," he clamped his mouth shut and closed his eyes.

"Oh, no! No!" Frigga gasped as she looked at her husband. His mouth hanging open, saliva dribbling down his bearded chin. His skin becoming paler and grayer every second, his body experiencing sudden shudders and tremors on and off. In less than a day he'd experienced cardiac arrest about 4 times. Even now she was sure that the ventilation system was the only thing keeping him in the land of the living. But she knew he was barely hanging on. He had only lasted this long to try and save them. To try and keep Ragnarok at bay. But dawn was swiftly approaching, by that time their eldest son would be slain by their eldest and unless Odin survived there would be no one left to wield the mighty hammer, Mjolnir. Then noon would come and bring Convergence and nothing would be able to stop Loki and Malekith's maniacal plan to unleash darkness and destruction into the universe then. "Oh, no! NO!" Queen Frigga mumbled once more. She brought her hand to her lips and fought off new tears.

"I am so sorry, my queen," the healer apologized "I wish that Mistress Eir had accompanied you here, I know that she could have been of more help to you...to our king. I feel so completely useless," the physician muttered.

"No, no, Onrac," the queen called out. "She reached out her hand beckoning her old friend forward. Onrac fell to his knees and practically called before the wife of Odin.

"Yes," he bobbed his head emphatically as he reached the queen's dainty feet. "Yes, yes," he continued. "It is wasn't for my incompetence in such matters than perhaps, King Odin would have at least stabilized. The all-father grows weaker and weaker because of me," he explained.

"It is not your fault, Onrac. None of this is because of you. It was foretold long ago," the female ruler of Asgard responded. "I saw it long ago...and we all heard the tales," she dropped her head, but her hand never departed from clinging tightly to that of the king's. "It is Malekith's doing," The queen informed him her free hand clenched into a tight fist. "And my son's," Frigga whispered through clenched teeth.

Onrac's chestnut eyes popped open. "No. NO. No, your highness!" He protested. He grabbed at the hem of Queen Frigga's royal nightgown. "Do not claim that depraved miscreant as your son," he spat out. "He is like nothing I have ever seen," he said shaking his head. "He's...he's...brought all this upon us," Onrac announced bitterly as he looked all around. He looked at the all-father's sickly form. "He's maimed the king," he pointed an unsteady brown finger toward the direction of the king. "He plans to kill Prince Thor," his strong voice warbled. "He means to destroy this world and every other world along with it," Onrac slammed his fist against the tile floor. "For what? For what? For what?" The healer questioned. His eyes were wide and filled with tears.

Frigga could feel her throat constricting. The revelations of the pain and suffering that Loki was about to unleash on the galaxy weighed heavily on her. "I wish I knew," Queen Frigga mumbled. Her voice was so low that Healer Onrac could scarcely hear her. Why had Loki done the things he'd done she'd never know. She knew of Loki's bitterness. For so long he'd wanted to be respected in Asgard. He was, but he was also mistrusted and he'd never had the adoration and accolades that Thor had had. She knew that he was envious of Thor for that. She knew he was angry with Odin for years of favoritism. He hated the fact that he wasn't truly of Asgard. She was sure that Loki probably didn't trust her anymore. She couldn't blame him. She'd lied to him as much as Odin had. Maybe she had been even more of a culprit than Odin. He resented his true heritage. She knew her son had been tortured in the hands of that wicked creature Thanos. She did not even want to imagine the unmitigated torment that the Mad Titan had subjected upon her poor, sensitive boy, but for all that... she couldn't bring herself to comprehend how it had led to this. How did it lead to Loki wanting to end everything and everyone?

"He's...he's just an... an..." the learned healer fumbled for words. His eyes darted back and forth and his lips sputtered as he tried to think of every possible insult imaginable. "He's a demon!" The healer roared. Hearing the proclamation over her son made the queen gasp. It struck her like a punch in the stomach, lack a slap across the face, a kick in the spine. It sent her reeling. It made her head spin. Was that what her beloved son was? That little baby who'd laid in her arms and gurgled and cooed when she sang to him. The child who held her hand and sat on her lap and play in her hair and kiss her cheek and giggle, who would make her laugh, by telling her jokes and riddles. The teenage boy who would confide in her and look to her for guidance. The young man who she could trust and who comforted her when she was weary. Could he really only be evil? "Do not claim him, your majesty, disown him now...once and for all. He is not worthy of you..." He expressed.

Queen Frigga raised her hand and silenced the medicine man. "Enough Onrac! she almost yelled. "Enough," she spoke again, softer and gentler.

He was shocked at her abruptness, but he bit his lip. "Forgive me, your highness" he muttered quietly. "I spoke out of term..."

The royal woman brought her hands to her sapphire eyes and flicked away the tears forming in her eyes. "Please, Master Healer, what course would you advise we take in regards to how to proceed with the all-father?" She questioned.

Healer Onrac nodded. "yes, yes, quite so, your majesty," he began as he straightened himself once more. "I really have no recommendation at all at this point. Our king is growing faint, his light grows dimmer," the healer pointed out with a heavy heart. "it is against the healers' oaf to advise prolonging such agony," he expressed his head bowed.

"Yes, yes," Queen Frigga replied calmly. "Of course," she conceded. She looked on Odin. She let go of his hand just long enough to allow her finger to graze his cheek and search for warmth. His flesh was still so cool to the touch. She bent down and pressed her lips to his forehead. "Prepare your healers to remove the ventilator, Master Healer," she commanded.

"Majesty," Healer Onrac gasped. "I wasn't trying to imply that we had to do anything this moment," he informed her nervously.

"No, Healer Onrac, I know," Queen Frigga stated. "Odin has been a good king..." she said with a sad smile

"The best," Healer Onrac spoke back.

"Yes," Queen Frigga replied. "The best," she reiterated. "The best king...the best father...the best husband," she confirmed. She clasped her hands in her lap and played with her fingers. She absently fumbled with her wedding ring.

"He always sought to give liberty and freedom to the people of Asgard and to the Nine Realms," she confirmed. "It is not right nor befitting for a king to be held hostage. Not even by his people or the ones he loves," she acknowledged.

Onrac could do nothing except nod his head. "Of course, my lady,"

"I can no longer allow him to sit here and suffer in silence only to watch the collapse of all that he worked so hard to build. He must be free..." She said to herself more so than to her longtime friend who was present. She swallowed the large lump in her throat and she felt it go down and form a knot in her chest that was tight, twisted and tangled. "He must be free," she spoke again. "To go to the halls of Valhalla with hope," she confirmed. "I will not cause him to suffer and see our world fall," Queen Frigga's voice shook.

"I...If you are sure, my queen."

"I am...I...I am Queen of Asgard...I command it," the golden queen stated firmly.

Healer Onrac put his fist to his heart. 'I will assemble the healers and have them prepare for the procedure," he breathed. He rose to his feet. "With your leave, my lady?" He asked not wanting to turn his back on the wife of the king.

"Go," Queen Frigga mouthed. She watched with a scrutinizing eye and Healer Onrac exited the bedchamber. She made sure that he was gone down the hall before she walked to the door and closed it. She closed it slowly and gently and calmly. But once behind the closed door, she pressed her back against it. Her fingers fiddled with the doorknob. She let out a choking sob and sank to the ground. She pressed her knees to her chest to her knees and wept. She cried like she did when she was a little girl and first started to receive her frightful visions. The leader of Asgard continued to cry on her knees. Every option that seemed to be left for them was truly awful. If the soldiers who remained in the Imperial City went along with their plan to blow up the palace, then perhaps they'd be able to thwart Ragnarok, but Thor's life would surely be forfeit and Loki's. Thor would want it. He'd do anything to save the kingdom, but she couldn't lose both her sons. Odin was knocking on death's door, the healers had little chance of him pulling through. Her whole family would be destroyed. How would she be able to carry on? She didn't think that she could keep the title of all-mother knowing that she had lost her family. She doubted she could still carry on in her duties as queen. But if they did nothing...if she sat back and let fate run its course there was no way that any of them would survive. She blubbered. "What are we going to do? What are we going to do?" She asked with her arms outstretched toward the heavens. She folded her hands and clasped them in prayer position. "Please! Help us!" She cried.

Just then, a sudden, rapid knock came to the door. Queen Frigga gasped. "Yes, yes, just one minute," she called from behind the door. She scrambled to her feet and did her best to quickly tip-toe to back to her husband's side. Once again, she tucked her robe tightly around her trembling bodice. She tried to wipe her face clean of the tears that streaked down her cheeks, but she failed miserably despite her best efforts.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!" A familiar voice chimed from behind the firm gold and oak door. "My lady, may I please come in?"

"Yes, yes, you may enter, Lady Kareena," Queen Frigga responded as she tried to make her voice steady.

The door clicked as it opened and Lady Kareena appeared. "Queen Frigga," the lady-in-waiting came in and bowed before the royal woman. "I...I...I just heard," she said breathlessly as her eyes darted toward where the great king rested on the bed, his breathing regulated by a machine. She reached out and took her sovereign by the hand. Queen Frigga returned the squeeze. She was grateful to have her waiting gentlewoman by her side. Kareena had been her attendant for many years. They'd formed a tight bond. She was one of her truest friends. "Your Majesty, are you sure this is the course of action that you wish to take?" She questioned. Her strong eyes looked at the queen intently.

The blonde-haired wife of Odin started to bob her head. She started to part her lips to declare to the woman that she was queen and most definitely certain and self-assured in her decisions. But as her bloodshot blue eyes gazed into the trembling brown eyes of her lady-in-waiting, she realized that she simply couldn't declare such a thing. Queen Frigga's chin trembled, "No, no, Kareena," she spoke in a hushed tone. "I am not sure of anything," she sighed and she pulled her hand from the hold of the noblewoman only to have it fall in her lap. "Odin's life hangs in the balance," she inclined her head toward the barely breathing bearded man. "Thor's life hangs in the balance...the fate of the Nine Realms is at stake," she explained. Her breath hitched and her lips quivered. "No course of action is perfect, but I must do something," the queen declared.

Kareena nodded, her chocolate tendrils fell on her face. "I understand," she said quietly. She once again reached out to hold Frigga's fingers, "but the all-father," she looked back at the king. "You don't have to do this," she expressed. She placed her palm over the queen's unsteady fist. "As long as the all-father is alive, my lady, there is still hope," Kareena offered a half-hearted smile. "But if the all-father dies..." Lady Kareena gulped. "What chance is there for survival?"

"I know not?' Frigga shrugged. Her eyes rolling upward. She blinked to fight back tears, "but I cannot force Odin to suffer any longer. Seeing the state of Asgard had led him to this point. I can't force him to hold on only to watch our collapse and destruction."

"You are a wise queen and a faithful wife to our king. I do not question your wisdom in tis matter, your highness, it is only," she looked down. "Is there any hope for us?" She asked as water spilled from dark-brown eyes and onto her caramel cheeks.

"We must never give up hope Kareena," the queen of Asgard informed her lady-in-waiting. "Til the last second, til the last breath we must keep hope alive," she instructed. "Do you hear me?' She asked in earnest.
"Yes, my lady," the waiting gentlewoman nodded.

"Queen Frigga! Queen Frigga!" Called young Pita as she came bursting into the bedchamber of the king and queen. The child tripped over herself in her long skirt as she rushed into the room. "You must see this, you must see this!" she exclaimed.

Lady Kareena immediately spun around on her heels and face the young woman. "What is the meaning of this?" The queen's lady demanded as she saw the child scamper in. Immediately, she frowned at seeing Pita enter the room. Pita was young, but she was nearly an adolescent and she certainly was old enough to know better than to disturb the queen at such a time as this "Child what are you doing here?" She asked. She started to march over to Pita. "You cannot just barge in here uninvited and unannounced," she stated firmly.

"I...I...I," Pita started to tremble. She shrank back. She backpedaled toward the door. Her eyes looked all around her and she took in the dreadful sights. There in the illustrious and grand room, she gazed upon the all-father's still form lying upon a bed. Monitors were all around him. There were screens and machines and wires and discs that hovered over him. Some were beeping and pulsating with multi-colored lights. Another hooked tubes and wires to his nose and trachea pumping forced air into his lungs. The child started shaking as she put her hands to her lips. She had never imagined seeing the king of Asgard in such a sorry state. All her life she'd been told wonderful stories about King Odin. How strong he was, how brave he was, how wise and kind he was. She'd often time imagined seeing the king. She'd thought of seeing him standing on the palace balcony giving an address to the crowd of thousands below. She'd so often dreamed and imagined going to one of the grand heroes banquets in the Imperial City and watching the king do a toast. She thought about having the chance to actually witness a parade where Odin would lead hundreds and hundreds of Einherjar throughout the golden streets of the Imperial City. The crowd would shout the king's name and people would throw confetti and flowers and horns would play and there...their great king would sit presiding over it all. She loved when she was in school and her teachers would teach them about the history of Asgard and she would explain about the battles that King Odin had fought in the past. She had a good teacher and she was wonderful at making the old stories come to life. She explained everything in so much detail that Pita had always felt like she was there in the midst of the battle. She could hear the clash of iron and steel, she could hear the screams and shouts of the warring armies. And she had always picture King Odin riding mightily upon his magnificent 8-legged steed across the battlefield with his golden scepter in hand. Seeing him like this...it was heartbreaking. It...It wasn't supposed to be like this. Their king wasn't supposed to just slip away from them without a fight. He was supposed to die a warriors death. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right and all this had been brought about by the king's own son. Her eyes started to water. It was like watching her own father die.

"Child! Child, child can you hear ?" Lady Kareena demanded as she clapped her hands while marching over to the young woman. "you must leave," said Kareena as she came up and wrapped her fingers tightly around the young child's shoulders. She started to push Pita out of the door. Pita shook her head and struggled against the queen's lady-in-waiting. She started to recall why she had so abruptly and rudely burst into the royal bedchamber in the first place.

"Wait," Pita protested.

"Now, enough of this, girl" The lady-in-waiting instructed. "Have you no respect for our king?" she asked abruptly. "He is very ill, can't you see?" she pointed out. "Now, go, go!" Kareena pushed her closer and closer toward the door. "You should go home, Pita..." Lady Kareena stated finally as she ushered the child out. She finally, let go of her shoulders and as she did so her own fell. Pita had the chance to finally turn around and look at Kareena's face. The woman who was known for her beauty and grace and charm amongst the people of court looked completely worn. "Go home and be with your family, Pita," she told her quite forcefully. She nodded sternly and then once more wrapped her elegant fingers around the young serving girl's shoulders and proceeded to open the door. "Go home and pray for our realm, go home and pray for our king," she admonished.

"But...but...but" Pita sputtered. "But that's just what this is about," Pita tried to express. She turned around and dug her heels into the floor and spun around and reached her slim arms over Lady Kareena toward the queen. Her fingers were desperately outstretched. Kareena gritted her teeth determined to shove the child from the chamber.

"Lady Kareena, stop that! Stop that," Queen Frigga declared as she clapped her hands. She stood to her feet. Immediately, Lady Kareena flung her hands off of young Pita's thin shoulders. "Enough! Enough," Queen Frigga shook her head and held herself tightly. "Peace. Peace," she spoke. Her eyes turned from her lady-in-waiting and the young serving girl who had been such a faithful attendant as of late, to look at her husband. He was so frail and sensitive. He needed nothing but peace to surround him.

"Forgive me, your highness," Lady Kareena curtsied at the ruler. "I only didn't want young Pita to bother you at this most sensitive and crucial time," she confirmed.

"I know," I know the blonde-haired monarch nodded. She put her hands out before her, "But tis alright," her majesty reported. "It is no bother, tis actually of some comfort," Queen Frigga replied, her tone was small and sad and did not sound at all as if she was being comforted at all. "it's alright," the queen said with more composure. "It's alright," she said with a soft-tone as she lowered herself back to the chair by the king's bedside. "The young people of Asgard mean so much to his majesty," she continued to explain. Her watery, sapphire eyes cast a fond glance in the king's direction. "Come forth, Pita, darling," Queen Frigga beckoned the young girl with a sweet and lovely smile and a gentle wave of her hands. Timidly, young Pita looked back up at the queen's beautiful lady-in-waiting. Kareena stood still and fixed her rumpled gown from her tussle with the child before giving a sympathetic nod in the girl's direction and then shooing her forward toward the queen. "Now, child what is it?" Queen Frigga asked gently as she took her by the hand.

Pita was panting, She pointed toward the balcony window that was covered by a heavy crimson curtain. "Your Majesty, look outside! Look outside!"

The golden woman of the realm wore a quizzical expression on her face upon hearing the child's request. Her eyebrow arched upward and her mouth parted slightly. Still, she figured she'd indulge the young woman. She extended her hand toward Lady Kareena and then slowly, wearily gestured toward the deep, velvet, crimson curtain. Dutifully and properly, the queen's lady-in-waiting flitted across the bedchamber floor and made her way toward the balcony. There she started to grab the rope and open the curtains. It was an activity she had performed for the queen of Asgard many, many times. She often was charged with the task of being the queen's wake-up call. She'd tip-toe into the queen's bedchamber and bring in her morning plate for breakfast. She would set up her tray and table just so arranging it with fine silk napkins and flowers and she would present her with a morning scroll of her favorite news clippings along with her itinerary for the day. She always took great pleasure in arranging the queen's morning bathwater, making sure that the perfumes and oils and scrubs were in there for the royal woman. She'd even sprinkle lovely lilac petals into the queen's bath. Her final act would always be to open the curtains so that the fresh morning could greet the wife of Odin. She'd draw back the curtains so that the first rays of gilded sunlight could hit the queen's face. She'd open the balcony door so that the queen could breathe in the sweet aroma of the dawn. She could breathe in freshly fallen dew, the succulent fragrances of the buds of the flowers in her garden just opening to meet the morning. The queen would be able to experience the thrill of the air of a new day filling her lungs whether it was a cool, crisp fall day, a brisk and chilly winter morn, a mild spring sunrise or a wonderfully warm summer's morning, the queen was always awakened to the sensation of morning air on her face. She would also delight in going onto the queen's balcony and putting food into the birdhouses and around the birdbaths that Queen Frigga had arranged all along her balcony. Queen Frigga had commissioned for beautiful and ornate palaces and pools to be fashioned for the beautiful birds who nested on the palace grounds. She'd almost make sure that only gourmet seeds and breadcrumbs would be fed to her birds. The birds were grateful to the queen for her benevolence on their behalf and so every morning without fail they would flock to the queen's balcony and serenade her. Their happy songs would chime melodically through the air and into the queen's ear, they'd put a smile on her face and she often declared that she could have not better alarm than the sound of her feathered friends bidding her good day.

In the scheme of things she knew that it was a small chore, perhaps it was even menial at best. It was certainly far from some of the more glamorous duties that she had performed as lady-in-waiting to her royal highness, but yet it was one of her favorite undertakings. Maybe it was the simplicity of the task. The queen could have been a hard taskmaster, she could have had all sort of strange and idiosyncratic needs that she needed attending to, but instead, Queen Frigga was kind and unspoiled. She relished in the beauty of having a brand new day and experiencing the same uncomplicated pleasures that had always brought her joy when she was a magistrates daughter growing up in the hill-country.

As Lady Kareena worked the rope to draw back the curtains her arms started for feel heavy as if she had been given one of the feats of the Einherjar to perform. With each slight tug of the twined cord, she felt something pulling at her from the inside. Something hard and heavy-handed tugging and tugging at her soul and brain until it seemed it would split her in half. She felt a shudder was over her. It was such an incredible jolt that she felt it would send her crashing down to her knees. As she tugged on the cord she found herself clinging to the golden rope trying to keep her knees from sinking to the floor. She couldn't come crashing down. The queen needed her. She had to be strong for the royal woman. Still, she couldn't help but succumb to the overwhelming feeling of grief. This would most likely be the last time that she would draw open the curtains for the queen because it seemed that the fates had ordained that this would be there end. She would never be one of the first people in the palace to witness the glory of a sunrise. She'd never seen the pale dawn give way to the beauty of daybreak and paint the sky in flaming colors of yellow and pink and shades of lavender until it turned into the lovely shade of sky blue that could take one breath away. She'd never paid much attention to sunrises before she took on her duties to the queen, but as she embraced her role, she started to embrace the day. She'd never have the wind sweep through her hair, kiss her cheek and bring the sweet scents to her eager nostrils. Asgard was a paradise and it was soon to be a paradise lost. She'd never hear the sweet melody of the birds chirping in her ears again. The birds. The birds? The birds! What about the birds! Such beautiful, gentle, innocent creatures. They would be destroyed too. Where could they fly to escape the wrath of Ragnarok? Lady Kareena gave one last firm tug onto the golden twined cord. She yanked hard and the heavy velvet shade opened. Kareena's eyes were closed as they stung with tears.

"Look, my queen, look!" Pita shouted over the dead silence that permeated the king's bedchamber.

Kareena forced her eyes to open. She was awestruck by what she was beholden. Her fingers flew from the fine threads of the rope. Her breath seemed to be completely sucked from her lungs. Her hand trembled as it cupped her mouth. "Oh, by the powers!" She muttered as she gazed at the sight. Her lips strained into a smile.

Slowly, the queen of Asgard turned in her chair. Her tired eyes squinted to make out the vision beyond the veil. She was so weary. Bone-weary. All she wanted to do was sleep. She wanted to close her eyes and wake up and then all this horror would be nothing but a dream. Her heart couldn't take much more. If only she could be aroused from this dreadful nightmare. She couldn't fathom what dreadful sight waited for her outside of her balcony. Had Loki unleashed the Dark-Elves to ravage this peaceful seaside town as well? She scowled. Would he simply come here himself to look her in the eyes and kill her as he would kill his older brother? To the Norns, she wished he would. She wished he would so that she could scream at him, rage at him, fight him tooth and nail herself and do everything within her power to stop him, perhaps he would overpower her. She was positive that he would. she swallowed hard. She may have taught Loki when he was younger. She shared her gifts with him because she saw he had a keen natural ability, she wanted him to find his place, she loved him, but there soon came a time when Loki's skill grew beyond her level. It was no small feat for him to do so, but when he did so he became strong and wise, she would have never imagined how much his power would become and how he would use that power that she had initially helped him cultivate to obliterate her heart. She could feel the lump in her throat growing thicker and thicker until it was nearly choking her. She put on a stiff-upper-lip. She hoped it was Loki, she wanted to see him once again, she wanted to fight him tooth and nail if that's what it took, She'd war with him until he'd cut her down. She'd grovel and beg at his feet if that's what it took to keep him from reconsider and put an end to this slaughter of the good people of Asgard and the innocent people of the Nine Realms. She'd implore him if she needed to, if she thought it would do any good, but she'd already tried and it had done little. Maybe Loki would take her prisoner and make her watch the destruction of her radiant kingdom before he killed her. After she watched the whole of Asgard being destroyed it was doubtful that she would go on, but still, she wanted to see him one last time before he committed this last and most villainous, damnable sin. She wanted to look into his emerald eyes one last time and search the evergreen orbs for a hint or the tiniest glimmer that even a speck of the soul of her son still existed. Even as he slay her, she wanted to tell him that she was sorry for what she had done to lead him down this dark path and that she was sorry that their paths would never meet again in this life or the next. She wanted to say to him as he lay dying that she hated what he had become, but that he would always be her son and she would always love him.

A sharp and terrible pang hit the queen in the chest like a lightning bolt. All of a sudden she felt guilty for her feelings toward her son. Surely, she shouldn't have a heart overflowing with love toward this wicked creature. She should hate him, she absolutely knew. Look at what he had done? Look at all the innocent lives he'd taken out of spite. The destruction he'd caused to their kingdom. She should hate him, his abominable acts were slowly killing her husband and in a few short hours, he'd execute her son. Her son. Her son! Her beautiful firstborn son who she struggled to bring into this world. She'd prayed and hoped for a child for so long. She'd come from a large family and had always dreamed of having a large family of her own. But after years and years of trying she'd yet to give the king even one heir. She'd remained childless. Sometimes she'd had miscarriages and she'd even endured the pain of 4 stillbirths, but for many years just before Thor was born her womb had simply stayed empty. She and Odin had almost despaired. She'd felt so ashamed. How could she call herself the all-mother when she could not even give her husband one child. She'd wept and cried and begged Odin to take on a concubine. Odin have to have an heir, the throne of Asgard had to be preserved. Odin had refused, but she was growing insistent. She loved Odin so much and even if she could not give him a child she wanted him to have the children that they'd so often talked about. Somehow, Odin convinced her that they try one last time if it didn't work then he would heed her and the council and consider taking a concubine.

Over the course of the next several days, the couple was given gifts of herbs and fertility potions by all the enchanters of the realms. Nobles and peasants flooded the king and queen with gifts of aphrodisiacs. Frigga and Odin both drunk teas and ate the foods to keep their bodies healthy and strong for the act. They perfumed the bedchamber and decorated the suite with fertility vases and plants. And then that one night, in the midst of a terrible thunderstorm, when she and Odin came together, she felt so much ecstasy and thrill, like nothing she'd ever experience before. And she knew that night for once and for all that she'd conceived a child...a child who would be beautiful and strong and who would make her and his father proud.

Her pregnancy was long and hard, through much of it she'd felt terribly ill and at one point she had to be put on bed rest. Her labor was intense and hard, she lost so much blood, but in the end, her concern was Thor. Her darling baby boy. He was a picture-perfect replica of his father and from the first moment she held him in her arms, laid his body against her breast, kissed his face and swaddled him, she loved him and swore that she would protect him.

She'd failed her firstborn, the child of her very body and vows. And the gift that she had so desperately wanted to give her oldest son, the gift of a sibling and brotherhood and camaraderie had turned into something diabolical and evil. Loki the child who she'd raised and loved and taken to her bosom, who was going to kill her own son and she should hate him for it. She should do an Onrac said. She should disown Loki. She should wish that he'd never come to the palace, but she didn't. She loved him despite it all.

Queen Frigga steadied herself. She braced herself for the most frightful of sights. She pushed herself from her chair. The brave wife of Odin, a shield-maiden and a queen felt her legs quake beneath her. She gripped the arms of the chair to keep herself upright. "Majesty!" The child squealed. Immediately, she was at the queen's side. her hand was at the golden queen's elbow. "Let me help you, my lady," Pita offered. Her eyes wide as she took the queen's arm.

Frigga turned her head toward the child, her smile was sad, but housed the tenderness of a mother. She stretched forth her elegant hand and placed it upon the serving wench's cheek. She patted the girl's youthful flesh gently. "Tis alright, young one," the queen said. "Tis alright. I can manage," Frigga informed. She rose to her feet and stood tall and proud with noble bearing. Pita smiled up at her queen. How beautiful she was. How lucky was she to have had the honor to serve the queen at this time? Even if Ragnarok was to befall them and rain down hell upon their head she could not have asked for anything greater than the end of her days to be spent in service to her queen. The young girl watched as the queen of Asgard took a few steps, they were straight and graceful and she was making her way toward the balcony, but just then the queen fell to the ground.

"Queen Frigga!" Pita yelled out and her little legs scampered to the queen's side.

Lady Kareena spun around, she hiked up her skirt and went to attend the royal woman as well. "Milady!" She exclaimed and she too was at the queen's side in the blink of an eye. Queen Frigga was on the ground, her whole body convulsing, her eyes rolling about in her head. Her breathing turned to hyperventilating. "Let us call Healer Onrac," the lady-in-waiting suggested.

"No, no." Queen Frigga protested mildly as she gripped her lady-in-waiting by the wrist.

"You must rest," Kareena countered.

"I want to see," she confirmed. Both the noblewoman and the daughter of a simple guard at the Southern Palace exchanged glances.

"Twill do her Majesty well to see," Pita said.

"You are right," Kareena agreed. She looked down at the queen. The color was draining from her face and there was a profound sheen of sweat on her forehead. "Can you stand, your highness?"

"With your aid, my ladies," the queen's voice was soft as a prayer. Her sapphire eyes were weak as she looked up at the pair around her. Her hand gave a faint tremble as she held on to theirs. The color was drained from her face. Without knowing it, the woman and the child both gave a simultaneous nod to assure their queen. They both took deep breaths and gulped. Very carefully, the young girl and the distinguished woman of court brought the queen to a sitting position and then helped her to her feet. Each took her by the arm. Together all three went to stand on the balcony. Queen Frigga's footsteps were small and slow, she leaned heavily on Lady Kareena and young Pita as she practically tip-toed toward the balcony. When they finally arrive in front of the balcony window, Queen Frigga's head was downcast, she was winded, her mixed blond and white hair was hanging in her eyes. Her eyelids were shut as she breathed deeply and tried to catch her breath.

She felt the two hold her tightly. She was thankful for their strength. "Open your eyes, your Majesty," Pita whispered in the queen's ear. Queen Frigga shook her head and forced it upward. Her eyes were so tired, but she forced them open. At first, everything was a terrible blur. There seemed to be nothing but darkness before he. The night sky which should have been a stormy mix of midnight blue and darkest purple and peppered with sparkling silver stars was pitch black. Not one of Asgard's three glorious moons rose that night to shine down on the golden realm, not one star dared to twinkle that night. The sky was empty and barren. Clouds were hung heavy in the atmosphere and the fog of the Aether ash had traveled miles and miles from the Imperial City on the winds and now it had settled by the shore as a heavy, dense, thick sheet of smog. Queen Frigga's head started to pound. She could hear young Pita entreating her to see, but see what? What on Asgard did the child bring her to behold except this wretched and bleak blackness? The queen stared into the unknown, she could feel the crushing weight of despair sinking upon her as she was forced to look at nothing. A shudder overtook the queen's body and it was a shudder that went from her toes and to her spine and even to her limbs. Lady Kareena and Pita felt the quiver go through the royal woman's entire body. They tightened their firm hold on her.

Queen Frigga raised her hand to her forehead as a wave of dizziness washed over her. "Please, let me sit," the queen of Asgard begged breathlessly. She swayed on her feet. crashing and knocking between her lady-in-waiting and the young servant girl. "Please, I can't endure the sight of this emptiness anymore," Queen Frigga's voice came out in raspy huffs. Her belly filled with butterflies at the thought that in a few short days when the Aether spread and took hold that all of Asgard could be painted with an impenetrable darkness.

The pair waiting upon the queen exchanged concerned glances. "Let us get her to bed," instructed Kareena. She nodded and started to give direction to the child.

Young Pita's mouth hung open, "But, but, but" the barely teenaged girl cried. "Look again, Your Highness," she pleaded. "Let us step closer, look again...open your eyes' she said and her own young, large eyes signaled to Lady Kareena for them to bring Queen Frigga further out on to the balcony and turn on the lanterns that lined the balcony.

Wearily and reluctantly, Queen Frigga took a second glance but then everything came into focus. She gasped. She rocked back on her heels. She was sure that she would have collapsed had it not been for her two loyal subjects supporting her. "Oh...oh...oh my," she stammered. "Oh my! My! MY!" she repeated. Her voice was light at first just a whisper. Then it verged on hysterical as tears stung her jewel-colored eyes. "By the branches of Merciful Yggdrasil," she exclaimed. "What is this?' She laughed. Once more Pita and Kareena looked at each other each holding a look that contained a slight exuberance at the queen's new found joy.

For there, in the midst of the darkness, Queen Frigga saw it. She finally saw what Pita had been so desperate to show her. She looked out the balcony window she beheld a sea of people gathered around the palace holding candles and crystal orbs. There they were the people of Asgard, young and old, tall and small, men and women, peasant and noble, warrior and artisan, standing outside of the Southern Palace courtyard, pressing their way into the surrounding area as if it were a great celebration. They thronged around the palace in great numbers. Queen Frigga turned from side to side and every side every corner of the palace yard was covered with people. There was not even a square inch of grass left between their shoes. It must have been 10000 standing out there. The scores and scores of people pressed their way from the palace gate and pass the drawbridge to the streets and even to the sea. It must have been the entirety of the isthmus standing before.

As their faces became more illuminated by the flickering warm glow of golden candlelight that they held at their chins she could scarcely make out their faces but the ones who were closest to the balcony she could see that their cheeks were wet as if they had all just gone for a swim in the ocean. Many of the women were wearing the tradition veils that were worn at funerals and during times of mourning. They covered their heads as a sign of respect and grief. There were some faces that stood close to the balcony who she recognized from court. They had come to stand outside side by side with the rest of the people. These men and women she knew to be some of the wealthiest and most highborn citizens of Asgard, but the way they stood dressed in little more than rags, sackcloth and ashes no one would have been able to tell. Everybody was arrayed in plain clothing, tunics and frocks of gray and burnt brown, black and white. The people of Asgard were a people of opulence and pleasure. The enjoyed beauty and fine things. And even at funerals they often took pride in dressing in their finery. These garments that even the rich and powerful of Asgard's court had chosen to adorn themselves in were more than just a sign of mourning. They were clothes worn to show dread and terror. These were clothes of repentance, prayer and fasting. The clothes were a petition, a desperate plea for what time had orchestrated long before any of them were born, to change its mind.

The candles that many of citizens were clutching tightly in their palms symbolized a vigil. The crystals orbs that each person seemed to hold in hand, soul spheres as the Aesir often called them were used in funeral ceremonies to represent the spirits of those who had died. They were as much a symbol of mourning as they were of hope and remembrance. That when the souls passed from this world to the next that they would never be forgotten. The queen could feel her heart breaking. Each and every beautiful orb represented a life. A life of one of her subjects that had been so carelessly and coldly snuffed out for nothing. Her lips twisted into a scowl. The people of Asgard were crying out for their slain brothers and sisters, they cried out for their friends and family members who they would never see again.

Some even bore banners and signs. She looked out among the crowd of thousands and read the large signs that they held. She saw in bold, bright rune lettering the well wishes of the people of Asgard Their signs read. "Long Live King Odin, Long Live Queen Frigga, Long Live Prince Thor, Asgard Forever," The words took the queen's breath away. She looked further and there was one large banner that seemed to be made in a collage form. It was made entirely of children's' artwork. The children had all taken time to craft one marvelous mural of their king in all his might and regalia and glory riding upon a steed and slaying all his enemies. Queen Frigga could not help, but cry. The bravery and compassion of the people of Asgard was incredible.

The crowd seemed to notice that the queen standing on the balcony of the Southern Palace for the first time. "There's our queen!" A voice from below cried. Fingers stretched up toward the regal woman. Before long all saw her. Their eyes looked up with hope. Their murmurs and whispers rose up into a roar of questions and confusion. But soon there were shouts of adulation. A great applause came from the crowd. Queen Frigga's eyes widened as she heard the roar of the masses that spread throughout the surrounding streets. They started to hoot and whistle and chant. "Queen Frigga! Queen Frigga! QUEEN FRIGGA!" the cried getting louder and louder. They lifted their candles higher, raised their orbs toward the heavens, stretched their hands toward her.

"Look, Your Majesty," Lady Kareena said leaning into the queen's ear. "Look, how the people of Asgard have all come out here to show love for our king," her voice house glee. "for Prince Thor...for you."

Queen Frigga bobbed her head slowly and swallowed deeply. Her heart was caught in her throat. The heart of the Aesir people was still so strong. News had spread far and wide of the terrible attack just committed in the Imperial City and Loki had made sure to make a realm wide announcement of the heinous act that he planned to commit come the sunrise. Many of these people had probably had no contact with their family members and loved ones who lived in the Imperial City. She could only imagine how scared they must have been as they waited for any word on their fates and whereabouts. And yet, despite their dread they'd come out to see her. They could have been in their homes, clinging to their families, having their last meals, cowering in their beds, they could have tried to run. Not that they could outrun such a holocaust, but they could have tried to escape to the farthest reaches of Asgard's Xanadu islands, but no, they were there. Standing in her presence. They were shaken, weakened and all and all incredibly fearful, but their strength had not yet completely failed them. They had shown up to show solidarity in their concern for Odin and for Thor and for her.

Her heart melted. It was so overwhelmed. She looked out at the swarm that rand from the palace grounds to flooding all the surrounding side streets and alleyways and down to the bridge that led to the beautiful beaches. Her heart was full. They were her subjects, her people, her family, her children. She was their queen, their leader, their matriarch, their mother. Their All-mother. As Queen of Asgard she knew that her subjects were looking to her for ruler-ship, for wisdom and strength as her children they had come knocking at her door, clamoring on her skirt tells, begging and pleading for comfort.

She would regret to inform the Aesir people that she had no plan of a counter-attack to give them, she had no marching orders to commission them with. She wished she did. It wasn't as if she hadn't tried to come up with something. She had. Oh had she ever. She'd talked with some of the lords who'd escaped with her to the safety of the Southern Palace, they'd tried to come up with every possible option, they'd weighed and rehearsed and written out every possible scheme they could concoct. They'd scratched their heads and wracked their brains search and searching for an answer, but nothing that they could seem to invent would prove to be enough to stop this nightmare from being made into reality. They were too far away, had too few resources, too little men and Loki and his Dark-Elf allies were too powerful. Besides, she couldn't be sure that Loki wouldn't meet resistance by simply killing Prince Thor. She couldn't risk it.

Tears trickled down Queen Frigga's pretty face and she was sure that all the people could see. A rush of heat came rushing over her. Her knees buckled. She would have sunk to the ground had it not been for the aid of Pita and Lady Kareena. The pair did their best to hold the queen up and not let her falter before the gaggle all around. Still, the people saw. "The queen! The queen!" a large group toward the front screamed out as they saw her swaying.

"Majesty, you must rest," Lady Kareena stated firmly. "Pita, I think the queen has seen enough of this. Close the curtain," she instructed. Pita's eyes darted toward Queen Frigga. The royal woman's gorgeous sapphire eyes struggled to remain open. Her brow was drenched with perspiration. Her heart broke. The young child's eyes stung with tears. No. No. No! It simply couldn't end like this. Asgard couldn't lose their king, queen and prince.

"Norns save our queen!" a chant rose from the masses.

"Bless you all-mother!" More shouts could be heard.

"Long may you live, your highness!" they cried.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty, can you hear them?" Pita asked as her tiny hands fanned the flushing face of the wife of Odin. "They need you, Your Majesty, you must hold on," she entreated of the female ruler of Asgard.

Kareena's brown eyes narrowed and she gave the young woman and incredulous look. "Pita, close the curtain," she ordered. "We must get the queen to bed," she explained and she started to turn the queen around and gently usher her back toward her chamber and bed.

At first, Frigga was hardly cognoscente of the fact that her feet were moving and she was being moved away from the balcony window. But soon the sounds of her people alerted her dulled senses once more. The cries of her children awakened her from her slumber. Perhaps she could not give them all that they needed as a queen. She could not lead them into a glorious battle and help them conquer their enemies. But by the branches of Yggdrasil, she absolutely refused not to be what the people of Asgard needed as a mother. She had taken the title All-mother and when she took that title as Odin's wife she'd absolutely meant it. She was going to be what the children of Asgard needed as a mother. She would always be there to comfort her children. Just as she had been there for her boys when they were small and frightened and needed her. She'd let them crawl into her bed or she'd crawl in bed with them, she'd talk to them about their fears. She'd tell them that everything was going to be alright even if she wasn't completely sure of it herself she'd never let her children have a doubt or a worry. She couldn't do any less for her people now.

"W-w-wait," Queen Frigga's mezzo-soprano voice rose up in the ear of her lady-in-waiting. Young Pita's eyes spread open wide as she watched the queen shake her head and do her best to right herself.

"My lady, you must rest," Kareena insisted.

"No, Kareena," Frigga spoke as firmly as her voice would allow. "I need to do this," she confirmed. Lady Kareena's mouth hung open. She shook her head her lips trembled in protest. She must have uttered some verbal groan or complaint, for the queen turned around and looked at her with a seriousness in her eyes that housed all the authority of her title.

Kareena slunk back. She released the queen's arms and then politely dipped into her most graceful and acquiescent curtsy. "Yes, my queen, as you wish." Queen Frigga then offered her friend a small smile. She straightened her shoulders and held her head high with regal bearing. She took careful, elegant strides as she made her way back to the balcony. Pita came skipping around to the queen's side offering her a hand. Graciously, Queen Frigga extended her hand and placed it on the peasant girls shoulder

Pita was walking next to the queen of Asgard before all the people of her beautiful seaside town. It was more than she could have ever imagined. She was nervous and shaking and giddy. Her father was just a palace guard at the Southern Palace not even one of the elite guards who served at the Imperial Palace. Her mother sold painted seashells in the market. She had never even been to the Imperial City and yet here the people of Asgard would see her at the queen's right hand. It was certainly unbelievable.

Soon, they were back at the edge of the balcony. Had they stepped any closer they would have been standing on the golden banister. Pita looked up with large black eyes at the queen adoringly. Queen Frigga recognized the nervous smile on the child's face. She'd once worn such a smile, she could recall the first processional she'd attended with Prince Odin at the time. It was early in their courtship and being a woman from the hill country she felt somewhat out of place in the circles within court. She didn't know what people would think of seeing her with Odin. She did unto the child the same gesture that Odin had done to her all those centuries ago. She reached out her hands and cupped Pita's cheeks still somewhat pudgy with youth. She leaned over slowly and kissed the child on the forehead.

Pita's mouth fell open, her eyes welled with tears at the tenderness of the wife of Odin. She was sure she heard the sound of swift wind blowing through the crowd, but she knew it was the sigh of their collective astonishment. Perhaps all would be destroyed by first light, perhaps Ragnarok would come and it would be the end of peace and love and goodness in the worlds. Such a knowledge certainly wasn't a comfort, she was scared out of her wits at the prospect that tonight could be the last night she ever saw, but if tonight was truly the last night that she would ever know in Asgard then this was the way she wanted to end it. She had gained the friendship of the queen. Her parents were out there somewhere in that sea of people, they were among the crowd of thousands and they saw her with the queen. Even if tonight they all perished she had brought her family honor. she felt blessed. Frigga gave a most sincere smile to the servant girl and then nodded. Pita bowed her head and started to take a few small steps backward. She was almost out of the queen's presence when she felt so thus compelled to run up and wrap her arms tightly around the queen once again. Perhaps she had broken protocol. She was certain that such things were not allowed. She could practically hear Lady Kareena cringing in the background, but she didn't care. "Norns save you, Queen Frigga" she whispered with tears in her eyes. Queen Frigga hugged her back. When the embrace ended the child scampered back behind the veil.

Queen Frigga raised her hand and quieted the uproar that came from the anxious crowd below. Somehow at the bidding of the queen's hand, they stilled and were silenced. She put her finger to her lips. Slowly, she watched and listened as quiet settled over the people in waves, it rippled and spread from one row of people to the next. Soon, they were all waiting with baited breath. The citizens strained, craned their necks, inclined their ears, they elevated their heads in desperation to hear just a word from their beautiful queen.

The wife of King Odin took a deep breath. There were so many people. They seemed to stretch on and on for miles. she had no bullhorn on phone to make her voice project, but she knew a little magic could go a long way in aiding her in allowing her message to be heard by all. She touched her hand to her throat, she spoke the mystic words in her mind. Then she spoke:

"Beloved people of Asgard, be not afraid. I know that we are in perilous and uncertain times. I know that we now live in what seemed to be the beginning of the end. We stand in the face of a grave threat. We look in the eye of death," she spoke harshly. "And evil," she admitted as she bowed her head. She saw the eyes of her youngest child, green and wild and laced with envy and malice and ill-intent. "But do not despair, good people of Asgard, do not lose heart!" She encouraged them as she pointed to her own chest. "This is not the first time that we have been confronted with such," she reminded them all. "Nay, nay dear Aesir, for such is our great commission. For we have always done so. Recall the tales of old. Remember the legends and our heritage. Remember when our ancestors fought against Surtur and his imps who threatened to end the worlds in fire, remember the when the Mad Titan Thanos wanted to enslave the entire cosmos, it was the warriors of Asgard who stood up against him and fought to save the throne of Nornish dynasties and banished that beast from the branches of Yggdrasil. Think back to the Great War against the Frost Giants, some of you fought in that very war," she pointed to the crowd and few cries and huzzahs rose up from the masses. There were claps and whistles. "You stood against our enemies then and you saved the Nine Realms," she reminded them. "Just as in the days of old the people of all the realms looked to Asgard for strength and for leadership and protection. Across the Nine Realms tonight the people sleep contentedly and blissfully unaware of the fact that Convergence could bring their demise. But we know," she confessed. A shudder overtook the queen's body, but she bit her lip and mustered the strength to speak on. "We know. We know that Ragnarok creeps ever closer with every passing minute. It is our burden to bear," she nodded. "You all know the prophecy, Ragnarok was always meant to start here on our soil," she explained as she spread her hands out wide.

She looked out on the crowd. She could practically feel the masses heave a collective sigh. She could feel the weight of their fear and terror and their resignation to the inevitable. "But I believe that is for a purpose," the queen said in a hushed tone like she was whispering a secret. "I believe it is because we are to be the buffer," she said her voice still quiet, but strong. She stood up taller. She held her chin high before the people. "We have always been so," she told them all. "It is our sworn duty, our sacred oath, to protect, to guard and defend," she declared unto the masses. "We are the mightiest of the people of the Nine Realms! We are strong and proud and determined people! We are the greatest of warriors," she said resolutely. Applause rippled through the crowd. "Because of that fact alone, we cannot lose heart. We cannot give up hope," she pleaded with them. She shook her head. "We will not slip silently into the night, we will not be blown into oblivion without a trace," she promised her people. Tears were welling in the queen's eyes. "We will stand in the face of this catastrophe, we won't run, we won't cower...no...not in the least," she proclaimed with determination. She tried to give the citizens of Asgard a smile, but such was too much of a façade to put on even for the queen of Asgard. "We will stand and fight. We will fight tyranny at every cost tooth and nail. We will show the Dark-Elves and...and...Lo-" the queen's voice broke for just a moment. She felt a knife slice through her stomach and an arrow pierce her heart. She choked and the words were stuck in her throat. She shook her head and cleared her throat and forced the words out of her mouth. "And...and all our foes just who we are!" She proclaimed and raised a powerful fist in the air all the while drops of water slid down her cheeks.

The crowd outside of the Southern Palace returned the queen's gesture. They all in unison, as if they were all well-trained soldiers beat their fists against their chests and raised their fist in the air. Queen Frigga took a deep breath. She tried to collect herself. She refused to cry in front of all her people who needed her to be as brave as she could, but as she beheld the gathering she couldn't help, but deal with the startling realization, that many of the faces would fade from existence in the next 24 hours. She looked out and saw the family gathered together. Husbands and wives huddled together, women cradling children near their breasts, old men leaned on canes. Which of them would be the first to fall in Loki's quest for vengeance? She hoped that it would be her. She'd rather be dead then once again have to look at the bodies slain in the streets of Asgard.

Queen Frigga swallowed the terrible lump that was caught in her throat. "D-Do not be afraid citizens of Asgard, do not be afraid," she cautioned them as she waved her hands over the crowd. "Never give up hope, not until the bitter end. Not until your last breath. Believe in the power of our forces," she encouraged them. "Believe that the all-father shall rise," she reminded them as her voice shook. "Believe that your prince...Prince Thor shall be able to fight and have victory," she pushed. To this, there were many cheers from the crowd. She heard the applause and the hoots and hollers that came from the multitude. "Believe! Believe!" she cheered along with the crowd. "Believe that our salvation draweth nigh! Remember that good will always overcome evil and darkness will never conquer the power f the light," she kept trying to embolden her people. "Never give up!" She ordered and she slapped her hand into her palm. "Believe that there may still be a chance for a miracle for Asgard!" she implored the Aesir. "For the Nine Realms," her voice was shaky, she dropped her eyes no longer able to bear the stares of the people of Asgard. She could feel their pain and their fear, She knew their sorrow because it was her own, but feeling all of their combined grief only magnified her own torment. She hated the feeling of powerlessness and helplessness that it left her with. She felt like a muzzled and bound she-bear who could only watch and do nothing as poachers took her young. She blinked back the moisture in her eyes. She pressed forwards.

"Pray for Asgard tonight," she commanded them. She folded her hands in prayer position and raised her eyes to the heavens. "Pray for our brothers and sisters who are hiding in the catacombs in the Imperial City, " she reminded them and she watched as the heads of the people slowly bowed. "Pray that they hold on and fight the good fight until the bitter end," the words tore from her teeth. "Pray for my son, our heir to the throne, Prince Thor," she murmured, "Pray that his strength return," she murmured and she watched as more and more heads bobbed and bowed. "Pray for the All-father," she practically begged. The tears were simply pouring now. They washed down the queen's cheeks unabashedly. "He is so weak now," she told the multitude. She gasped. She couldn't believe that she uttered the words aloud to the citizens. She knew that her husband would never want to appear weak before his subjects, but they had a right to know for at this point all of their lives were contingent upon his. "But he still fights," she countered, her voice growing stronger. "He fights for you, dear people of Asgard," she cried to them. "He has truly been most worthy of the title all-father," she acknowledged. She knew that though her lips were moving and her words were being projected to all in attendance that she was truly reminding her self. "For a real father never willingly abandons his children."

There were murmurs. She could hear voices of the people being raised as they started to say their silent confessions and they all whispered words of praise for their king who lay dying. "Cling to your faith" she clasped her hands together. "Even if the worse should happen, fear not! Fear not good people. For we will die warriors deaths if we must perish and then we shall all meet again in the grand banquet halls of Valhalla!" she preached. "We will all meet again there," she told them. "In a land even more glorious than the wonderful world we know. There we shall find pleasure, peace and love. Songs will be sung and there will be no more pain or sorrow. All wars shall cease," she spoke to them the stories of old. "Our flame will not go out by night," she said steadily. "Remember that when we die," she sighed. "Our bodies become the stars," she raised her hand toward the sky. The night was so dark. No light could pierce the impenetrable darkness. "But there...there are remains shall be...a testament to our greatness...forever," she finished.

With that, Queen Frigga watched as the Aesir started to lift their glowing crystal orbs skyward. All at once arms were stretched up and up and even more upward. There were hundreds of thousands of lights displayed in the hands of the citizens of the seaside town of Kytheria. She heard all their voices raised in distinct prayers. Each and every soul cried out for another. Each and every person there was desperate for salvation. Frigga joined them. She clutched her chest and pleaded with the only One who she knew could keep Ragnarok at bay.

Finally, she heard the faint music start to play in the background. Of course, there were minstrels and bards in the crowd. She smiled faintly and hummed along while her eyes remained closed and the melody became more and more familiar. She heard the lilting tone of the flutes as the pipers started, she heard the slow, sturdy rhythm of the drums as the drummers started to rat ta-tat-tat on their instruments. She heard the sweet pluck of heavenly harps as skillful fingers started to strum away. Perhaps she could even make up the hints of the mournful fiddles and lyres that were being played by the musicians amongst the masses. The song brought tears to her eyes. She had not heard it in such a long time. It hadn't been since the Great War with the Frost Giants a war that had spanned decades that she had heard the Aesir people feel the need to sing such a forlorn and heartbroken ballad, but she could not think of a better time in which the people could have resurrected the dismal song.

The old song had first been sung many ages ago. In the early days of Asgard's history. Asgard had grown and prospered. It had brought calm and stability to many of the realms, by proving the peaceful and united governments could maintain a hold over the people. Naturally, they had enemies. Their greatest enemy at the time was the Frost Giants. The coldblooded people didn't want peace and they resented Asgard for its prosperity. The Frost Giants alone were not strong enough to defeat the Aesir, so they called upon the help of their ancient kin, the Fire Giants of Musepelhiem. Their leader, Surtur possessed a powerful weapon, it was a sword made of pure flame and with it could cause the Fire Giant lord to grow to enormous proportions. He could grow as big as a mountain and his flaming sword could reduce the flourishing field to ash and then melt a mountain into nothing but a mudslide, it could slice through a whole forest and make it into nothing but firewood. He had used that weapon to amass armies and take slaves throughout the Nine Realms. When the Fire Giants invaded Asgard they captured and took on many Aesir as slaves and led them back to Musepelheim. He killed and executed mercilessly the soldiers who tried to withstand him and he threatened to destroy the entirety of the Realm if the King of Asgard tried to stop him. Asgard was nearly brought to her knees by the dreadful attacks and wicked ravaging of the army of Musepelheim. It was said that the all-father almost surrendered Asgard to Surtur. But the night before he was about to agree to sign away half his kingdom as slaves he heard the people of Asgard singing a song of mourning for their fate. And yet it was a song of hope. He heard the slaves singing as they toiled in the hot mines deep inside volcanoes where the Fire Giants made their dwellings. It was then that the king of Asgard at that time forged Gungnir to slave the people and bring those who had been taken captive home. Since then the song had only been sung 7 times in the history of Asgard.

The players played on for a few more minutes. The old mournful song swept over the entire crowd like a wet blanket. It laid and lingers and stuck to all the people until the power of the sorrowful melody had enraptured all. Finally, and albeit hesitantly voices started to break forth. It started as just faint hums. the sound was susurrus. The soft murmuring tones were almost too soft to even hear. Although there were hundreds upon hundreds in the crowd just outside the Southern Palace the sound of all their voice was barely more than a faint buzzing. It was low and hushed as if the people were scared to make utterance. Singing the gloomy hymn was like admitting that they were defeated. A defeat was never easy for any Asgardian to admit. They were a proud people, warriors in blood. Still, the tiny purr of the people continued to grow. it grew and swelled into a mighty roar. Before long the sound of their hum was soon drowning out the crashing waves of the ocean in the background.

Instantly, the calm and quiet, timid humming transformed to the shrill sound of a voice raised in song. No words, simply the Aesir people lifting their voices to sing the tone of music that was being played. It sounded so beautiful. All the voices mixed and blended in a radiant chorus. Queen Frigga could not remember a time she had heard anything more angelic. she gasped in awes as she heard all singing the dreary notes in unison. Some voices were high sopranos, others were deep base tenors, there was the sweet unmistakably innocent voice of children. There was even some warbled baritone voice of battle-scarred old men and the shrill frail wizened voice of the elderly women. Each voice harmonized taking on the splendid tone match the sad song. All the emotion of the people were captured in each not that they hummed and sang. Somehow, they pressed pass the fear and kept the beautiful ballad going. There were sobs and gasps and wails and sighs and screams and tormented angry shouts. From her balcony, Queen Frigga could hear the curse words that flew from their tongues and stomps of their feet she could hear as they beat their chest vehemently and pulled their hair and ripped their clothing to shreds and flung dust and ash all around in fury and panic. Each one of their tormented howls dug deeper and deeper into the queen's heart. she cried with them and as she heard the music she started to sway. she swayed until she felt off balance. She reached out for the rail and grabbed it. The queen would have collapsed right then and there had she not had young Pita's strong youthful arms behind her holding her up. With the suppose of the young servant girl the queen of the Aesir managed to climb back to her feet. She offered a tiny smile to the girl to give thanks. Pita bobbed her head knowingly. Perhaps words would have passed between the two had they both not been caught off guard by an angelic voice that seemed to break away from the multitude and out shown all.

0There was a woman who was among the masses. All of a sudden, she was picked up and hoisted on the shoulders of a few strong, strapping Asgardian men. Soon she was towering over the crowd. Her voice broke forth clear as a bell and she began to sing the words of the song. For the first time, many of the eyes in the crowd drifted off of their focal point on the balcony to staring at the woman who was starting to croon loudly and proudly.

Her voice was distinct and recognizable. It was Lady Aida. She was a beautiful member of the court, her grandfather was one of the judges of Asgard's royal justice system. Her mother and father both worked as scribes, but she had become one of Asgard's most accomplished bards. She was a favored member of the Asgardian Royal Opera Company. She was known for her rich, soulful, contralto voice. She was a tall and stately woman. She was shapely and womanly with deep, dark skin like the fine wood of a chestnut tree. She wore her hair in a regal coif of mixed curls and a crown of braids. Amongst the opera crowd and the court, she was always known for her fabulous style. She often wore robes that were purple and splendid, she often draped herself in animal skins and fur to add a dramatic effect. But on this night, a night when no one was certain of what the future was to hold she was simply adorned in a black frock that she had covered with ashes to express her grief. The words she sang pierced through the night:

"Take me in my dreams reoccurring,

As cheerful as a childhood dance

Into one last taste of freedom

One more longing backward glance," the opera singer's voice was beautiful and golden, it was the voice of a nightingale and yet the no one in the crowd had ever heard a worse sound. Aida's eyes were watery and her hand shook as she stretched it backward in the direction toward the Imperial City. The citizens kept the melody going. They allowed their voices to sing out in loud streams even after the famous singer had stopped.

After what seemed like a never-ending pause she started again:

"In the sway of this solemn music

So sad that I will never...never understand," her voice quivered and she shook her head and grabbed it. "Let me slip into the sweeter

Chorus of another land," her voice broke off. It was too cracked to continue to hold the lovely notes. She was no longer able to hold it in. She was no longer able to bear it. She started weeping and sobbing uncontrollably. She blubbered loudly into her hands and slowly the voices that had joined in the ensemble to make the melody all fell silent. It didn't take long before even the instruments stopped playing and the only sound to be heard throughout the multitude was an immense wailing. The cacophony of heartbroken cries and screams tore into the queen's soul. The way they cried Queen Frigga was sure that they could be heard from the farthest corner of every branch of Yggdrasil.

Queen Frigga closed her eyes, took a deep breath and thought hard of her enchantment. She touched her throat. She focused on her magic. Somehow she would have to broadcast her voice over the fear and pain and devastation that rang out from the people's lips and hearts. She lifted her head high. She stepped as close to the edge of the balcony as possible. She opened up her mouth and she sang. She sang and clearly and as loudly as she had ever done. Queen Frigga too, possessed a lovely voice, it was not as silvery or crisp as Lady Aida's, but it was earthy and regal and full of passion. Queen Frigga started to hum just a little. Tears streamed down her face and she could feel the familiar ache starting to form in her throat that often accompanied crying. And When the queen sang the people listened:

"The Fates love Asgard, the beautiful and golden, the radiant and fertile the bold and the blessed.

The pain of Asgard is only for the moment: the desolate the suffering, the plundered the oppressed.

The Fates love Asgard our glorious nation let this song roll sweetly across each harvest plain

The tears of Asgard are a passing aberration...they wash into the river and are never cried again!"

Soon, Queen Frigga heard her voice mingle with others. The wife of Asgard took a quick breath as she noted the voice of her beloved lady-in-waiting coming alongside and harmonizing with her own. Lady Kareena stepped forward and placed her hand on the queen's shoulder. Then the queen heard a youthful voice, pretty and unpolished and full of energy mix in as well. Queen Frigga couldn't help but smile despite her trembling voice, tearful eyes and breaking the heart as she felt the child slip her hand into her own. Next, she recognized the strong, heavy tone of Healer Onrac joining her. Frigga looked over her shoulder and saw the tall physician making his way behind her. He'd been listening at the door to the Queen's speech for quite some time. He was standing there in the doorway, holding his medical instruments in his trembling fingers as he prepared to take the final steps in removing the all-father from life-supports. He wasn't much of a singer. Some would say that the master healer couldn't sing a lick, but that only made this song all the more powerful. He sang every word with the skillful diligence that made him a fine surgeon. The meaningful words rang from his lips with not only precision, but heart. Queen Frigga allowed a smile to grace her lips as she beckoned her old from forward. Once Healer Onrac was directly behind her a few of the other healers came in behind her and sang as well:

"The Fates love Asgard we have to keep believing

Though scattered, torn and divided we are still its heart

The fall of Asgard, ephemeral and fleeting

Our spirit will keep on burning though our flesh is torn apart!" The proclaimed before the great multitude of citizens.

Just then the crowd joined in. All the voices of the people Kytheria rang out true in the song:

"The fall of Asgard, ephemeral and fleeting

Our spirits keep on burning though our flesh is torn apart." From the balcony, Queen Frigga and her companions watched as the crowd below started to sway. The beautiful flames from the candles swirled and swayed in the darkness creating beautiful patterns. The drums started to be beaten louder and louder. Hands that weren't holding a candle or a crystal orb started to pat their hands together. All were stomping their feet. They stomped their feet so much so that the entire Southern Palace shook. The beat was slow and steady and deliberate. The beats were heavy and painstaking eyes were wet and heads were bowed, heart bent with immense sorrow, but still, their voice held fortitude and housed the tiniest glimmer of faith:

"Take me in my dreams recurring

Cheerful as a childhood dance

Into one more taste of freedom

One more longing backward glance

The Fates love Asgard,

the beautiful and golden

So radiant, so fertile, so bold and so blessed.

The pain of Asgard is only for the moment

The desolate, the suffering, the plundered and the oppressed.

The Fates love Asgard, we have to keep believing!

Though we are scattered, torn and divided we are still its heart

The fall of Asgard, ephemeral and fleeting

Our spirits will keep on burning though out flesh is torn apart!" Frigga watched as the people dropped to their knees and tore their garments. The voices of every citizen of Kytheria rang out strongly and loudly in an earnest effort to make their prayer and cry or lament heard by the only One who could truly save them.

"Take me in, my dream's recurring!" The voices of the people were harmonized and perfectly blended. Each citizen held the note as long as they could. The voices were strained and pressed on the verge of tears until no one could sing anymore. Then they all stopped suddenly and abruptly with the last beat of a drum.

Queen Frigga's voice sprang forth and rang vibrantly into the night like a chime, "One more longing backward glance!" She begged of the heavens and on that note, one thousand illuminated diamond spheres were released from the hands of the Aesir people. The floated into the pitch black, endless night sky and finally gave off great light. Frigga's eyes sparkled as the artificial starlight littered the dark heavens. The sight of the twinkling, glittering spheres in the darkened clouds lifted her spirits. She did her best to flick away the moisture from her eyes.

One of the royal woman's other waiting gentlewomen slowly walked toward the queen. Her steps were methodical and elegant as she strolled to the queen's presence carrying a diamond orb in her hands. Her head bowed and she dipped into a curtsy before the wife of Odin. She then lifted the orb above her head to present the illuminated crystal ball to the queen. Cautiously, the queen reached out her lovely hands and she delicately took the orb from her handmaiden's fingers. she then turned around and faced the crowd once more. Her trembling fingers caressed the sacred orb. The multitude's watery eyes followed her every move that she made. Queen Frigga raised orb to her lips. She sweetly kissed it. She lifted the glowing crystal sphere above her head and presented her offering for the ancestors in Valhalla to see. "For the ones who have passed on," she spoke boldly. "May the light illuminate your path to Valhalla's gate," she recited. "May your light so shine brightly there as it has here," she quoted the funeral verse. "May the luster of your memory never be extinguished...may your star always burn," she prayed before the people. With that, she could feel the pull of the sky on the orb. Now that the rites had been read the heavens summoned the soul sphere. Frigga allowed the ball to roll off of her fingers and it too took its place informing of a brilliant new constellation in the dark and heavy clouds.

With that, from her balcony, Queen Frigga saw as the thousands of Asgardians who had gathered and pressed as close as they could manage to be toward the palace all dropped to their knees and bowed. The rolled down to the ground and the way they moved mimicked the wave of a tide.

Queen Frigga stood out on the balcony for a few more minutes. She blew kisses and said tiding of goodwill toward the people of Asgard. She waved her hand abundantly and blessed the people and extended her wishes of hope, joy and peace toward them. All the while her voice was slowly fading. The arts that she had worked on her voice were wearing thin and her own fatigue was catching up to her. Soon her voice was reduced to nothing but a whisper.

"Come, highness," Lady Kareena's voice spoke softly in the queen's ear once more. Her hands were tender upon the queen's quivering shoulders. Queen Frigga did not resist the instructions of her dear friend. On the contrary, rather she nodded slowly, gave a tired smile of gratitude to her lady-in-waiting and then cupped the woman by the cheek before endeavoring to walk away from the balcony. Lady Kareena took care to close the curtain on the balcony as to allow the queen to rest.

Her feet moved clumsily across the marble tile. she stumbled just a tad, but the slight trip threw her so off balance that the queen was sure that it would have sent her sprawling across the floor had it not been for young Pita's hand reaching out and catching her. "Your majesty!" All the healers who were present cried out. All of them were caught in a gasp with their hands outstretched toward the queen.

Queen Frigga shook her head and her bloodshot sapphire eyes saw that it was Pita who had caught her. she brought herself to an upright position. "Thank you, Pita," she mouthed. "You must return home," she instructed. Pita shook her head. She had no desire to leave the queen's side. "You must," the queen of Asgard ordered. "No doubt your own mother longs to see your beautiful face again..." Pita felt herself blush. She had never considered herself beautiful, Asgard had no shortage of gorgeous women and among them, she was certainly plain. But if the queen of Asgard called her beautiful, she who was one of the pinnacles of Aesir beauties then it must have been true. "We don't know what the dawn will bring," the queen's tone was heavy. "But on a night such as this, I would want nothing more than to hold my children in my arms and tell them how much I loved them," her lips stretched into a smile. Pita understood the queen's words and bobbed her head in compliance. "Please take this," Frigga said as she pulled one of her rings off of her finger and slipped it into the young woman's hands.

"No, my lady," Pita's eyes were wide and she shook her head. "I couldn't," she said quite firmly, her fingers curled into tightly balled fists as she beheld the dazzling ring made of platinum and plated with princess cut pink diamonds.

"Take it, dear one," Queen Frigga said it was not a plea or a request it was a royal decree. "So that your family will know all that you have done for me," her tender hands peeled open Pita's tightly formed fist and allowed the ring to plop into her palm.

"I have done nothing, your highness," Pita replied with tears in her eyes.

"You have done much," Queen Frigga assured her.

Pita dropped to her knees and kissed the queen's hand over and over. "Long may your majesties live," she proclaimed as she looked up at the sovereign woman. Queen Frigga bid her rise and she did so just before she began to make her way to meet her family who was undoubtedly in the crowd of thousands still bowing all around the streets of the seaside city. As she exited she embraced the ladies-in-waiting and healers who she had had the pleasure of getting to know.

Once Pita had exited the chamber of the king and queen of Asgard, Healer Onrac approached Queen Frigga once Lady Kareena had escorted her to and helped her sit on one of the seating couches into the room. "Your Majesty," his voice was quiet and tentative, "The healers and I..." he paused, taking a deep breath, rubbing his hands together. "We have all that we need," he motioned to his staff of astute healers, medicine women and nurses, "do you still wish to proceed as planned?" he inquired of her. His head lowered as he rubbed his sweaty palms together.

Lady Kareena held the queen's hand while another one of her lady attendants fanned her. Queen Frigga cast her eyes upon her husband, he was gray in color from head to toe. His face was marred with new lines and wrinkles that had never been on his body before. His aura was so terribly dismal, his life force and power had all but faded. He had no strength left. He was drenched in sweat and all the while blood was bubbling forth from his cracked mouth. A thin trail of a red line ran from the corner of the right side of his mouth and was becoming stained in his white beard. She averted her gaze quickly. She could no longer look at him in such a state. He was suffering. She swallowed, her throat ached abominably. "Yes, master healer," she did her best to hold her tone steady.

Healer Onrac's chocolate brown eyes widened for just a split second. He bit his plump lip and ran his hands through the hair that didn't exist on his scalp. He nodded, he swallowed and rubbed his hands together, all of a sudden he felt very cold. "Very well, then," he said and he gave his healers the signal to begin their work.

The healers worked quickly and efficiently, they brought over the vials of special ointments and worked with clean tools. A few of the healers held him steady. Odin started to thrash. It was hard to keep him. His vital signs were flailing all about him. The thermometer spiked to a deathly high temperature and the all at once it started to fall. They rubbed the healing waters over his body and tried to keep his blood pressure down while others worked to wiggle the breathing apparatus out of his throat. There was a heaving, wet coughing sound. Queen Frigga averted her eyes. She didn't want to watch, but it sounded as if the king was drowning in his own blood. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against the tanned shoulder of her handmaiden's bodice. Lady Kareena cradled Frigga's head against her shoulder like she was a child and covered her ears. "Do something!" She practically shrieked. "You can't just let the king die," she squealed.

Healer Onrac rushed over to Odin. He observed as the king continued to convulse on the bed. He plugged his thumb into the king's trachea to keep him from bleeding out. "Healer Onrac, what should we do?" Asked a panicking young female healer.

"We are losing him!" Another one of them shouted. She held a device over Odin's head. "The all-father's shields their completely down..." She explained as she read the scanner.

King Odin continued to cough, his chest was quivering under the weight of the healer's hands. He coughed and took shallow breaths. He seemed to be gasping for air, his tongue swelled and was getting in the way of his breathing. "He can't breathe, Master Healer," expressed one of the rookie healers. He had only been appointed to the honored position of a palace healer a few years ago. He was from a small shire on the outskirts of one of Asgard's trading cities. He was best in his class, but he had never truly expected to actually be asked to study at the University of Medicine in the Imperial City, let alone to be commissioned the palace healing ward. He thought that mostly he would just treat sick maids and injured stable-hands. In his wildest dreams, he wouldn't imagine that he would be working on the king and literally holding his life in his hands.

"We have to plug the ventilator back in," declared an elderly nurse. She rushed back toward the king's bedside with fresh new tubes.

"Wait!" The lead healer yelled out as he held out bloody fingers. He managed to clear the all-father's throat. He sealed it with a thin sheath of plasma that could blend in and create new cell tissue. He then pulled out a healing crystal from his pocket. He broke it and allowed the dust from the gem to sprinkle over the body. He whispered a few mystic words over the healing crystal dust and the sprinklings started to shimmer and shine as they infused into the king's body. The king's seizure immediately ceased. His body went slack on the bed.

"Is he?" Kareena mumbled from the far seat where she still held Queen Frigga in her arms.

"No," Healer Onrac muttered, he could not bring his lips to completely form a smile though. He was shaking and his brow dripped with perspiration.

Kareena's eyes filled with glee. She peeled the queen off of her and pointed and exclaimed the good news to the royal woman. "Our king lives, our king lives!" She cried as she patted her hands ecstatically.

"Is that true Healer Onrac?" Queen Frigga asked as she finally opened her eye. Her look was that of pure exhaustion.

"Tis Majesty," he nodded. "But the king's breathing is only being sustained by the power from the healing crystal," he explained unable to look down. "My lord, King Odin has no shields for which to hold his magic, his life force readings are in the negative, his blood toxicity level is nearly septic," he walked toward the queen and took her by the hand. "My lady, the kingdom should prepare to say goodbye to its king," he said solemnly.

Queen Frigga sighed. "No," she muttered. Her hands were down and clasped in her lap. She fiddled with her gorgeous wedding ring. "The king must prepare to say goodbye to his kingdom," she replied. "You all have done everything that is possible," the queen commended them. "There is no more that is in our hands. Now we prepare to meet destiny," she said as she rose to her feet. "Go and say your prayers...join our people in crying aloud and sparing not in this our final hour," she instructed.

The healers looked around at one another, they were all filled with dread and grief and helplessness. Slowly one by one they went and kissed Odin's hand and pledged their undying fidelity to their king and queen and realm. They went to Queen Frigga and bowed low and kissed her hand as well. They sent their best wishes to Prince Thor. Then they exited with their hearts heavy and their eyes glistening with tears, their mouths hummed along to the mournful tune that they had all sang only a few moments before. "I'm sorry, my queen I failed," Healer Onrac blubbered as he came to face Frigga one last time.

She shook her head, "The only failure is mine," the all-mother responded. She wrapped her hands around Healer Onrac's shoulders and stood on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheeks.

As Healer Onrac exited the royal couple's chamber Queen Frigga made her way to sit by her husband's bedside one last time. She peeled the covers back and crawled into the bed with him. She wrapped her arms around him and showered him with passion filled kisses. She pressed her lips against his ears. "Can you hear Odin?" She asked she tried to make her voice light and gay. "Can you hear the cries of our people?" She cupped her hand around his ear. She hearkened to the chants outside of the balcony window. She could still hear the citizens of Asgard shouting "Long live King Odin, long live Queen Frigga, long live Prince Thor!"

"Hear their praise and hear how they celebrate you. You have earned their love and their respect. Let their voice sing you into Valhalla," she decreed over him. "Do not be afraid, Odin...I love you...don't be afraid to leave me...don't be afraid to leave Asgard...we will all meet again soon," she whispered in his ear and she heard his breathing slowed to the point where she could no longer even feel the rise and fall of his chest. "Odin? Odin?" She cried as she took him by the shoulders and shook him.

A/N: Alright! There you have it! You made it to the end of the chapter! Take a deep breath and give yourself a round of applause. So, I know this chapter was long and rather sad and not as action packed as I had originally intended, but since Thor 3 was so jampacked with humor and action I think a more thoughtful and emotional story is needed to balance that out ;) Anyway, we are sooooo very close to the end of this tale and I can't believe it. So if you've been reading all of this you deserve to let me know what you think. This chapter is my gift to you, so spread some holiday cheer and leave your review!

Disclaimer: Once again the song referenced is Gods Love Nubia from the Broadway Musical Aida.

JESUS IS THE REASON FOR THE SEASON

MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY HOLIDAYS to ALL

God Bless