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?

47. A Visitor in a Strange Land

A/N: HELLOOOO READERS! How are you? The last time I updated I don't think that the Infinity Wars movie had been released. Now the moment that we have all been waiting for has finally arrived. It's crazy and I can't believe it! Well since then I have already seen the movie 3 times. I know I know... but what else can we crazy Marvel Fans do. Hey, we waited 10 years for that movie and we deserve to indulge as much as possible. Likewise, that gets me thinking about how you readers have stuck with me and this story. Some of you have been reading since the very beginning! That was 5 years ago. That's half the time since we have all fallen in love with the MCU! Your devotion and interest in this story has kept me going and made me feel like a real MARVEL WRITER! That is an incredible gift. It is a gift that I that I cannot thank you enough for, but I will try. THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! You are MARVELous readers. I appreciate each one of your follows, favorites and reviews immensely. That being said I have another chapter for you. This chapter was actually quite a pleasure to write because it was a chapter that I had been imagining writing for quite a long time now. I don't know if I did it complete justice from translating it from my mind to paper, but know that I tried ;) As always I wish you happy reads and writes and I pray that God bless each and every one of you who reads this. Without further ado I give you chapter 47!

There was darkness and then swirling light of all fluorescent colors and a careening noise that howled in the ears. It was nearly deafening. Loki awoke screaming, his heart was caught in his throat. His breath locked in his lungs. His spine tingles and all his senses were alive and alert with wild fear. His eyes scrambled darting back and forth in the darkness. he could see nothing, but the terrible flickers and flashes of electric colors that were nearly blinding. It stung his trembling green pupils and left him dizzy and disoriented. Loki felt as though he was trapped in the Abyss once more. "No! No! No!" Loki yelled loudly. He couldn't go back to the Void. He couldn't face Thanos again, not after another failure. Was this Dagmar's gift to him? To send him back to the pit from which he crawled out of. He knew he deserved all the tortures of the damned. He didn't deserve any pity from a soul, but truth be told he would have rather faced to the fires of Helheim than be left in the Void at the mercy of Thanos once more.

Then all at once, Loki's panic was brought to an abrupt halt as he felt himself hit the ground with a loud thud. Loki tumbled and rolled when he landed. His eyes were wide and the darted back and forth as he took in his surroundings once more. The clouds above him were darkest gray, black and blue color that he had ever seen. It appeared to be nightfall, but there were no stars in the sky. The orb that did sit in the heavens was that of a hideous vermilion color, but even its color did not penetrate the gloomy and dark atmosphere that seemed to be spread across the land. Loki panicked. Surely, this dark place was the Void. He felt horror seize him. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to high-tail it out of there. Then he remained petrified for he remembered that there was no escaping from the Void. He sat frozen. He waited for the captain of the guard of the Chitauri to come down and find him and drag him to the Other. If he was lucky, the other would be the one with whom he would hold conference with for a few days before the Mad Titan pronounced judgment and rendered his punishment. His breath wheezed from his thin lips, that's when it occurred to him that he could not see his own breath. The Void was cold. It wasn't icy or snowy like Jotunheim, just cold. This land was not exactly hot or even balmy, but it was only cool. Finally, the fear that held Loki in place dissipated just enough for his fingers to twitch and for him to feel the ground which he had landed upon.

It was sand. Soppy, wet, grainy sand. Loki could have sobbed. He had been carted all around Thanos' domain and he had never seen any sand. There was no sand, simply cold rock. He wasn't in the Void! He raised his hands in triumph at the discovery. When his hands once more rested upon the sand he felt the slight tickle of water lapping at his fingertips. He became aware of the sound of the waves crashing against the bluffs and the rocks. A beach. He finally looked down and saw the water running onto the shore. It was black. A thick, inky black. Loki yanked his hand from the water. The texture was almost slimy. Loki couldn't think of any realm that had water as black as licorice. He wondered what realm he was on and what time it was. Had Convergence completely passed him by. He scrambled to his feet. Whatever rock he had landed on he would find some sort of transport and get back to Asgard.

As Loki studied the water lapping at his feet he happened to glance down at his hands and notice that they were blue. His skin wasn't soft flesh, but hard and stony, cold like ice. Loki's pupils dilated in horror as he beheld that his flesh had taken on the garish ice blue tint. "No!" He stammered as he stared down at his hands. His nails were long and black like talons. Loki curled in on himself ashamed of his frosty form. How had he been transformed into this hideous creature? He thought again of Dagmar's silvery voice as she planted one last kiss on his lips. Was this her gift to curse him to this despised form for the rest of his days?

As Loki pondered the cause of his grotesque Frost Giant flesh which he had been cursed to traipse around in he noticed a small figure making its way on to the beach. The figure climbed down from the tall bluffs which overlooked the beach. It scuttled down from the jagged mountainside and made its way on to the sand. Whoever was coming was so diminutive that Loki started to think that perhaps he was encountering a Dwarf. Nidelvar, the home of the Dwarves did have beaches, but mostly it was a mountainous and forested land. Perhaps it was Alfheim, some of the Dwarves did reside in the lovely home of the Light-Elves. The Light-Elves were blessed with a realm that possessed all terrains. Loki watched the figure. It scuttled along and carried a basket and picked up something from the beach. The figure kept its head down. It seemed busy in its gathering and collecting. It wore a patchy, dark-colored cape as it sat upon it hands and knees and dug about in the sand with a small shovel and pail. The person would dig about for a few minutes gather its stock and then stand up and move about to another spot. It slowly drew closer all though whoever it was did not seem to notice him standing there. It didn't notice him until it bumped into his legs. Loki was tall and lanky built and the small of stature somebody who collected along the beaches barely came to the king's hips. As it knocked into Loki. The person fell backward and the contents of its pail spilled out on to the sand. The enchanter observed that it was no bearded Dwarf, but rather a child.

The hood flew back and revealed around a youthful face that was topped with curly dark hair. There was little light, but Loki was sure that he recognized the pudgy features. It was a young girl, but the self-proclaimed king of Asgard gasped and stumbled backward when he stared at eyes as deep a shade of green as his own. "W-w-who...who...who are you?" The little girl asked timidly as she tucked her tattered cloak around her. She had taken the question right from his lips. Loki looked down at her. She was barefoot and her cape was just a mishmash of rags and broken fabrics that had been assembled and sewn together. Beneath her cape, she had on a soiled tunic that was far too short to really be a dress. The edges were frayed. It was ripped and the seams and it seemed like it was an old schoolboys uniform. She wore no leggings. She was certainly rather scrawny despite the pleasant roundness of her face. She was dirty from head to toe. And Loki wasn't sure if sickening smell came from the putrid ocean or from the young girl's body. "Who are you?" She squeaked out once again.

Loki started to open his mouth then thought of the perfect answer. "A stranger, just passing through," the trickster announced to the child. The little girl quickly continued to gather what she had spilled. He continued to look around and gaze over the child's head. He squinted trying to make out any landforms or landmarks that could have given him a clue as to where in the galaxy he was. "What realm is this?" Loki asked casting a shrewd eye across the land. There were some things that were familiar, but altogether he couldn't say that he'd seem a realm this dismal.

"Don't you know where you are, sir?" The little girl asked shaking her head. She quirked her features and the king could have sworn he'd seen that look before.

Loki snorted. "If I knew where I was I wouldn't have asked, now would I? Now answer me, child!" He ordered.

"Sorry, golly," the girl shrugged. "But it seems strange that you would be traveling and not know where you are. Especially since most have to get papers to say where they're headed," she explained with a shrug.

"Papers?" The dark-haired monarch questioned.

She nodded and looked at him curiously. "Yes, papers," she bobbed her head. "Are you alright, sir?" The green-eyed girl asked. "You look a little...funny?" The little girl curled up her nose. "Are you sick? Did you hit your head on something, sir?" She asked. As she moved a little closer to him.

"Perhaps I did...I...I don't really remember much," Loki admitted honestly. He truly couldn't remember how he had gotten here or how he had gotten to Vanaheim all of a sudden he just was and he didn't know why but he was in great haste to get back to Asgard.

"Mmm hmmm," she nodded as she examined him. "Your coloring looks a little off," she reported as she got up close to him. Loki took a step back fearing that the child would discover the secret of his identity. "And why do you have so many scratches on your face?" She asked as she pointed to him. Loki's hand strayed as he felt the horrid markings and carvings in his icy flesh. Do you have a place to stay for the night?" She asked.

"No, but I don't intend to stay," he announced.

"Not really safe to travel at night, sir" she explained.

"Then what is a little girl doing out here all by her lonesome at night?" Loki raised his eyebrow.

"Digging for snails sir..." She dropped her head and kicked her foot about in the sand.

"Curious pastime for a little girl... why do you dig for them?" He inquired. "Especially at night," he raised his brow.

"Because sometimes a crust of bread just isn't enough for a day," she expressed with a sigh.

"I see," Loki lowered his tone. He sighed as well and a grimace graced his thin lips. "Young girl if you can give me lodging for the night...I can give you food to eat..." He stated.

"You have real food?" Her green eyes were large and she licked her lips hopefully.

"Yes," King Loki said. He stood proud and tall and squared his shoulders.

"Where?" She asked darting behind his back and searching for the food.

"You won't get it until you take me to your home. At first light, I will seek to find a transport from this land." He explained more to himself than the young child he was with.

Her gem-like eyes sparkled with an innocent sort of laughter. "I wouldn't exactly call it first light when morning breaks," she expressed.

"Whatever you call it," Loki waved the child off dismissively. "I have a pressing appointment in the morning that I cannot miss," the new king of Asgard reported.

" Do you have enough for me and my grandfather?" She questioned before taking another step.

"Yes, more than enough," Loki bobbed his head. He gave her a wink.

"Alright!" The child announced with pep in her voice. "You've got yourself a deal!" She took the stranger by the hand to lead him away from the beach.

"Wait, no don't touch!" Loki ordered as he tried to yank his hand away from the child's. He tried to pull his sleeves down to avoid his skin coming in contact with the dirty little girl's pale flesh. He was amazed when their skin met the little girl was not frost burned by his skin.

"Your hands are like ice," she observed. "But you can warm yourself by our fire at home," she relayed as she continued to drag him along.

Emerald-eyed enchanter was baffled by what had happened. He studied the child, but finally shook his head and dismissed the thought. "You haven't told me where I am, yet," Loki said as he looked down at the little girl who skipped along merrily by his side.

"It's nowhere now," the child replied.

"It has to be somewhere," Loki huffed out his annoyance.

"Well...well...My grandfather said once this was the grandest, most glorious realm of them all. Once it was a magical land..."

"What is the name of this place? " Loki asked in exasperation. He rubbed his temples as he looked at the cleft of the rocks which they had to climb.

"Most of us now call it Svartalfheim the Second, but the elders like my grandfather... they still call it Asgard.

Loki and the child climbed their way up the jagged edges of the cliff. All the while the self-proclaimed king of Asgard's head reeled. When he last was looking out his window and seeing the city he had been watching it burn, but this-this was beyond the burning and the smoldering that he had seen. This was simply nothingness. The fact that Asgard a land that was fertile and rich in abundance had been reduced to this barren land. Asgard's beaches had always been filled with white and pink sand waters that were crystal clear or deep sapphire blue or a sparkling glistening turquoise. He had never seen a time when the waters had been black and gunky. And the way the child looked. He shook his head as he continued to stretch his limbs and make his way up the side of the mountain. Naturally, there had always been some poor people in Asgard, the foresters and mountaineers were some of the poor communities in Asgard and there were slums outside of the major cities where thieves and low-lives littered the streets. But even those citizens did look as bedraggled as the little urchin that he had to follow around. He'd never seen any citizen of Asgard in such dire straights. Eating snails. This could not be.

After what seemed like hours they reached the top of the cliff. Loki was winded, but as he watched the child he noticed how easily she moved along. When they were at the top, the little girl was eager to run along, but Loki caught her by the shoulder and pulled her back and held her in place. "My home isn't far," she called to him and waved her hand over her shoulder for him to follow.

Loki leaned over onto his knees and huffed and puffed as he tried to catch his breath. "Child this cannot be Asgard," he demanded. "Now, tell me where we truly are," he demanded of her.

The raven-haired child plucked Loki's ice cold fingers from her shoulder. "I told you we don't really call it that anymore," she stated. "Look you can see Bedlam from here," she pointed out excitedly.

"Bedlam?" Loki questioned as he looked up and saw a measly walled looking town. The wall was decrepit looking. It was forged out of mortar, bricks slime, rocks and even planks of wood. In the far distance, he thought he saw remnants of some familiar looking buildings. He could have sworn that he saw the Einherjar barracks, but the building that had once stood so tall and polished now looked like it had been abandoned for eons. The floating temple no longer floated, but its' different wings all lied slumped and broken on the ground. The steeple of the university was broken and crumbled in on itself. Loki shook his head in disbelief, surely this wasted hamlet was not the place where he had once lived. The houses barely rose over the tops of the walls, but the dwellings that he could make out looked like nothing but shanty town shelters. They were made of nothing, but tin and thatch, hay and stubble and some were even mud rooves. In the center of the town, Loki made out a mighty building rising in the midst of the squalor. The edifice was as tall as a mountain but it was simply terrible to behold. It was gnarled and curved and rounded and humped, spiked and painted black. It was shaped like some sort of monsters and it was covered and coated barbed wire and prickles and jagged ice chunks. Smoke and ash rose from the top of the horrible structure.

"Is this the Imperial City?" Loki asked wide-eyed as he took in the sight of it all.

"It's Bedlam," she expressed. "Not much to look at," she shrugged. "Come on we better step lively," she explained and started to move on.

Loki shook his head. he gaped in horror as his feet stumbled along behind her. "Is that the Imperial Palace?' He questioned blinking as he pointed to the monstrous edifice that rose from the center of the city.

The little girl looked up toward the direction that Loki's long, narrow, blue finger was pointing. "That shadowy place over there?" She asked. "I've never heard anyone call it that. I think the official name is Malevolent Citadel," she stated.
"That's what it is truly called?" Loki asked.

"That's what everyone calls it," she said with a shrug.

"Who lives there?" Loki asked as his shrewd green eyes cast a suspicious gaze on the building.

"A monster," the scrawny little girl's eyes were big as doubloons and even though her eyes were a deep emerald green the way she looked reminded him so much of a little girl who he once knew. She started to shake. "That monster and Lord Malekith they rule these lands," she elaborated.

"Malekith?" Loki gasped.

"Please, sir we have to hurry, my grandfather will be terribly worried about me." Loki nodded and snorted and followed the little girl along the road that led to Bedlam. He pulled a hood over his head cloaking his features. If this really was Asgard than the face of a Frost Giant would most certainly not be a welcomed sight. He walked a few paces behind the child. He wondered why she was not frightened of his monstrous form. Surely his ice blue, carved skin and glaring red eyes were not sights that the child was used to, but the night was so dark that maybe she truly hadn't noticed. The new king of Asgard kept his head down as they plodded long. The street was mud and rubble, stubble and hay, but as they drew closer to the wall Loki started to notice different glistening colored fragments poking out of the mud. The colors had faded, they were mutilated, dried out and washed out, but Loki was sure that he recognized it. He recognized the flicker of vibrant blue and vivid green and dazzling orange. He stooped down and allowed his finger to graze to mud and pick up the tiny flickering particles that had lodged themselves in the sludge that was an excuse for a road. He felt the material. It was hard and sturdy, but it shattered and splintered at the edges. The edges were sharp enough to cut his fingers and Loki was sure that this was crystal quarts mineral that made up the Rainbow Bridge.

"The Bifrost," Loki announced as he stared down in horror at the tiny piece in his hands. The Bifrost had been so glorious and beautiful. Its splendor was the fame and glory of Asgard. It had taken centuries to construct and it had finally allowed the Nine Realms that had once lived as separate entities to be united if need be. It was a marvel of both magic and science and now had been all but obliterated. Loki squeezed the piece of quartz in his hand. He concentrated and tried to feel the power and energy that this stone had once possessed that it had been able to transport beings all across the Nine Realms. Now it was all but drained.

"Yeah, my grandfather calls it that too," the dirty little girl said as she turned around and face him. She skipped along backward as she pointed to the stone in his hands,

"Well, what happened to it?" Loki demanded as his flaming eyes pooled with water. The little girl responded innocently enough with a shrug, but such a flippant answer would not suffice for the would-be monarch. He reached out his hands and gripped the tiny tot by her narrow little shoulders. He shook her vigorously. "Girl, what happened to it? What happened?" He shouted in her face.

The child's head rocked back and forth and Loki continued to shake her. "I don't know! I don't know! I don't know!" She shrieked throwing up her hands. Loki finally released her. He looked down at his blue hands and curled his fingers back in. He tried to regain a sense of composure. "They destroyed it I guess," she admitted. She looked down and sniffled. "They destroyed everything," he shoulders slumped. "But that was a long time ago, I guess... I mean...before I was born...I guess... its always been like this ever since I can remember," she expressed.

"I see," Loki responded. "And exactly, how old are you?" He questioned.

"244, years old to be exact, sir," she announced proudly.

Loki's mouth moved. He started babbling. he was speaking so fast that the little girl couldn't exactly keep up with what he was saying. "But that's impossible..." He finally stated.

"I am so, 244 years of age!" She declared with a stomp of her foot.

"Of course, I'm sure you are," Loki said dismissively.

"I'm sure my grandfather is a plenty hungry, please sir, can you step a bit more lively?" The child asked as she skirted around the puddles and bits of debris and litter that blocked the road. "I really don't want to keep him waiting too much longer."

"Since the Bifrost is destroyed I suppose you have no need of a gatekeeper," Loki reckoned.

"No, sir tis not so... we do have a gatekeeper!" She said rather perkily. "But... he's well...well...he's..." He voice immediately fell. "Well you'll see," she waved behind her for him to follow. They approached the gate of the city. There Loki was able to spy a few people who seemed to be working on the fortification. They were laboring intensely trying to build the wall higher. Men with bare backs and thin pairs of trousers shivered as a light mist started to sprinkle from the heavens. The men were gaunt. Their cheeks were sunken in, their eyes bugged out of their sockets. Their rib cages could be seen through their flesh. They grunted and groaned and strained and lifted and carried mounds of bricks and rocks and sacks of sticks on their bent backs. They were terribly disheveled looking. They were coated with muck that had dried and was stuck on their skin. It painted them a nasty yellow mustard and mucus green color. Many had broken arms and bandages around the chest and legs arms and head. Some of them had wicked contusions and vicious lacerations from the brutal lashes they received from the whips of the taskmasters. Their faces were somber and dull eyes. No one chattered or sung as they work. They kept their heads down and were even mindful of their task. They limped along, climbing ladders, hoisting barrels of water and beside the crack of the whip and the muffled cries of agony that followed or the groan from someone as their brittle bones attempted to hoist a pile of rubble that weighed more than them the toil was silent. King Loki had never seen Aesir men look so broken. Even their growth had seemed so stunted. The Aesir had been a statuesque race. They had tall and strapping physiques with proud stances and muscular bodies. Now their bodies weren't quite so tall or muscular and their heads weren't held quite so proudly. The colors of their skin not quite so rich or vibrant. No doubt their height had been chopped down due to the fact that they were completely malnourished and they had hardly any color due to the little light that seemed to be cast over this dark and dreary land. He turned to gaze at those who possessed the whips. He saw that they were the Dark-Elves. He had initially suspected that the Aesir people would not take kindly to his overthrowing of the government, no matter how completely legitimate his right to the throne was. He expected that at some point he would have to sick the dogs on them to squash any rebellions that may have been brewing, but he had imagined such a Marshall law would have been short-lived.

"What are they trying to keep out?" Loki wondered aloud as he walked closer to the gate. He pulled the hood of his cloak closer around his face.

"It's not about keeping something out, my lord," the little girl replied. "It's about keeping us in."

"How'd you get out, little one?" Loki questioned. "This place is heavily patrolled."

"That's it exactly, I'm little and there are some unfinished parts of the wall, I can slip through the cracks. Also, the gatekeeper...he's helped me" she explained. Soon they were right at the base of the wall. Loki watched with disgust as the malicious soldiers of Malekith cracked electrically charged whips across the backs of the Aesir men. This gesture made the men scuttle like roaches and tremble with fear. It left the unfortunate wretch who had faced the punishment writhing in pain. One of the fellow workers stooped down to try to help his fellow man, but he was shouted out by the taskmasters and he too ran away. They left the man there, thrashing in the mud. Loki looked around and he noticed that the base of the wall was full of dead bodies. Their stench rose up as fertilizers. Their bones were only used to fortify and reinforce the foundations of the wall. Loki pinched his nostrils together as they grew closer to the wall. He shook his head as he studied the carcasses of the dead. Those that still had skin on their bones had been terribly emaciated others he could see had died from wounds that had gone too long without treatment and some had simply been murdered.

Loki continued to rationalize that this couldn't be Asgard. For the Aesir had too much respect for the dead to ever let bodies lie in such a way. They had always cremated their dead. Cremation was the way in which the body returned to the stars. To be remembered and burn forever. It was in Asgard considered a disgrace to be buried and to have a body just lie rot was a fate not even wished for an enemy. "Come, we will have to go around the back if we hope not to be noticed by the guards" she stated. And ducked down so the patrols who made their rounds on the top of the wall didn't notice her. Loki managed to shuffle along and he easily blended in with the other men who were working on the wall.

Finally, Loki noticed a face that he thought was familiar. Stationed by the South Gate along the wall was a man dressed in armor. It was not the most radiant or resplendent armor. It was tarnished and old and ill-fitting. It was broken and cracked and it offered little protection to him as a group of ruffian Dark Elves accosted the armored man. Loki was nearly sure that he almost recognized the coat of arms. As he stared he could nearly picture a man who stood taller than most in gleaming gold a man who was rigid and refined and strong as a boulder and resolute in his post. A man who he knew who had lived by the motto of speak softly and carry a big stick. But that man had done way more than carry a big stick, he'd brandish a sword. A sword that was sacred and kept passed down from generations of Gatekeepers. Some had called it the Sword of Asgard. It had belonged to one of the original Einar. The founding fathers of Asgard. Loki quickly did a double take. He batted his vermilion eyes and looked again. The vision of the man who he thought he saw immediately faded. Surely, it couldn't be who he thought it was. Surely, this man could have never carried a mighty sword as he watched the man lean heavily on a gnarled looking wooden cane. He was old and wrinkled, frail and thin, barely able to support his own weight and the armor on the peg-leg that he possessed. The man he had imagined had a skin color as rich and deep a coffee bean, but this man had a pale, washed out pallor. He certainly wasn't the strong stalwart figure that he had been imagining. The man that Loki had known had been an astute defender of his kingdom and he would have cut an enemy down on sight rather than taking the abusive beating that this man was at the hands of the Dark-Elves. They kicked him and punched him in the gut and slapped him across the face. He gasped and grunted, but he didn't fight back as the Elves attacked him. He took their brutality and allowed them to raise one of their taser-whips. They threatened him with the whip, but he didn't flinch at it. Angrily, one of the elves cracked the whip and used it to snatch his cane from beneath him. The gatekeeper fell right then and there at the feet the Dark Elves.

"Oh no! This is my fault!" Squealed the dirty little girl as she took hold of the tattered edge of Loki's sleeve and yanked at it while she pointed at the abuse that was taken place right before their eyes. She shook her head and tears pooled in her eyes and she turned her face into Loki's surcoat and buried her face there. Loki's eyes scanned around. He observed some of the other men who were working on the wall seemed to take note of the happenings. They stopped in their work. They dropped their buckets and bricks and pails and chisels and turned toward the gatekeeper. Some started to raise their voice in protest. Loki concentrated and listened to the susurrus, worried tones around him. "we have to do something," one man said to a friend.

"We have to stop them..."

"They'll kill him," one pointed out.

"Stop that! Stop that!" A few of the wall workers started to shout down at the guards who bullied the elderly gatekeeper.

The protesting Aesir were only met with stinging, shocks from electro-rods and sizzling taser-whips. "If you don't want your fate to be worse than that of the Gatekeeper than you shut your pie-hole scum!" Demanded the taskmaster as he took hold of one Aesir man by the neck. He raised the man off of the wall and hoisted him in the air. he held him there and waived him around just like a flag. The poor man groaned and gurgled as his breath was cut short. The black-eyed elf met his gaze and then tossed him off of the wall. The skinny body sailed right into the mud and landed with a crash and a splash and there was a sound of broken bones that followed along with a scream.

"GET BACK TO WORK YOU WORMS!" The Dark-Elf task masters ordered. With that, the frightened Aesir men trembled in the presence of the guards, the nodded and swallowed down even the smallest inkling of courage that they had managed to muster and they quickly got back to the tasks at hand which was building their own prison.

"We know that you have been letting people escape through this wall, Gatekeeper!" One of the Dark-Elf commanders snarled as he circled around the elderly Aesir man. His men continued to ram their black boots into the armored man's back and stomach and sides.

The guardian curled up into a ball to protect himself. They continued to pound him with their feet. Through shudders and gasps, he managed to speak. "You are mistaken, my lords," he informed them as they pelted him with stones.

"Do not lie to us Gatekeeper," The commander warned as he raised his finger that was covered in black leather. "You have lost much already," he reminded the man cripple. "Your stubborn insubordination had been dealt with far too mildly in, my opinion, over the past centuries. But the loss of your tongue would certainly be mitigated," he reported. He raised his fist to tell his men to stop in their onslaught against the poor wretch for but a moment. "Hoist that weevil to his feet!" He ordered. The guards obeyed and they roughly brought the guardian to his knees and they pressed him even further by demanding that he stand. Blood leaked through his armor and oozed from his broken nose. His eyes were blackened and his lips were busted. His breathing was heavy. The commander slapped him across the face. His head swung and blood splattered from his mouth. "Now answer me truthfully," he commanded.

"I have answered you with all the truth I can," the gatekeeper expressed as he slowly allowed his stiff and achy neck to swing back and face his wicked taskmaster. "Why would anyone want to leave the city...tis nothing but days journey of wasteland beyond this point. To leave would simply be suicide," he stated.

"People have been leaving and you know who...I will have names of those who have left..." The commander demanded as he smacked his rod against his palm.

"I know of none who have escaped the city. Only a few who have been granted permission to forage or transport goods and all have returned."

"No," the commander barked back. "There have been unauthorized leaves," the Dark-Elf declared. "Soldiers have made rounds to the houses and have found all not present..." He informed.

"I know not who has left," the gatekeeper insisted as he shook his head. "I haven't even eyes left to see who comes and goes how could I possibly give you names?" He chuckled bitterly.

The commander of the Dark-Elf guards gripped the gatekeeper by his head. "Your eyes may be gone, but I know your powers have not faded!" He raised his blade to the gatekeeper's throat.

"I do not know their names," the armored man panted.

Soulless eyes gazed down at the gray-haired and grizzly bearded guardian. They scrutinized him without feeling. A bloodless face turned to face the crowd of pitiful Aesir men who huddled, and hobbled and worked endlessly on the horrendous wall. He smirked as he saw how the gatekeeper still possessed a stubborn streak of pride. "I do not know their names," he stated once more.

"Fine," the Dark-Elf commander stated. "Someone here knows the truth. Someone knows who has been slipping through the cracks," he shrugged and he stepped away from the guardian. His men did the same and they dropped the man face first back into the mud. "SOMEONE KNOWS! SOMEONE KNOWS!" he roared. He cast a gaze toward his soldiers and they immediately began firing their blasters at the men who were working tirelessly on the wall. The blasters created terrible vortexes in the air and innocent men were scooped into the swirling black holes.

"Wh-wh-what's that?" Asked the gatekeeper as he struggled to push himself to his knees. He heard the cries and screams of the men. He heard the horrid sound of the twisting twirling vortexes. It dawned on him quickly what was going on. "NO! NO! Please!" He cried. His wrinkled hand felt around until he gripped the boot of the commander. "No, no, no! Please!" He begged. "Leave those poor men alone," he entreated. "I am the Gatekeeper," he proclaimed. "If someone has slipped through then the fault is mine, none of these men are responsible for that," he explained.

"Oh, you will pay the price," stated the commander as he looked down squeezed his hands and cracked his knuckles. "The first act of your punishment will be to listen as we pick off your little friends one by one," he chuckled cruelly. Then he gave the signal and several of the Dark Elf guards began firing into the crowd of men working on the wall. They shot them down with their blasters and pelted them with electric blue lasers.

"STOP! STOP! STOP!" The Guardian screamed til his voice was raw.

The little girl yelled as she watched men's bodies fall from the wall, full of holes and smoking hot. Loki watched too. He felt the child grabbing at his robe and covering her eyes. Loki's blue lips curled with anger as he watched the sorry sight of the helpless beings scattering like roaches before their oppressors. Finally, he'd seen enough. Loki stretched forth his hand and as one of the laser beams flew from the blasters froze in mid-air. The another did the same. The another. And another. Until none of the blasters were able to fire another round of laser bullets. The screaming soon ceased as did the scattered running. The bedraggled men looked up. Their mouths hung open in amazement.

The Dark-Elf soldiers hit their guns on the ground trying to figure out what had happened. "No," muttered the Gatekeeper. "No, no what have you done?" He asked as he listened in fear to the dreadful silence.

"What manner of devilment is this?" The elfin commander questions as he looked around at his troops. No elf had a response. He turned and looked at the Asgardian gatekeeper who was crawling across the muddy ground on his hands and knees. He grabbed the man by the back of his neck. "No," he ground out as he raised him into the air and shook him like a leaf. "I think the better question is, what did you do? What did you do, huh?" He questioned ruthlessly as he held him by the neck and squeezed hard on the gatekeeper's windpipe.

The gatekeeper gasped and choked for air. "I...I...I did...nothing," he explained.

"You think you can stop me from killing these maggots?" He demanded. "We'd have killed you all already if it wasn't for the fact that we needed a labor force and a breeding supply," he snickered. "Fire again!" The commander shouted at his men. The Dark-Elf soldiers tried to do as their leader had instructed. They took their blasters in hand and set them on different settings ranging from stun, to kill, to vortex force, but all the modes were jammed. Nothing worked and the electric blue lasers that had been launched still floated in the air. The shook and shimmered but they did not move.

"They're not working, sir," one of the patrols reported.

"What? None of them?" He asked in exasperation. He was answered only by a chorus of shaking heads. The Dark-Elf commander began loudly cursing in the guttural native tongue of Svartalfheim.

"Sir, perhaps we should let these worms rest for the night and we will gather new weapons," expressed one of the other officers.

"Fine!" The commander grunted and spat on the ground. "Perhaps I can't kill all of them today, but I can kill you," he growled. Then he took the blunted back of his weapon and whacked the guardian upside of the head with it. The gatekeeper fell to the ground unconscious. The commander gestured with his hands and men blew their whistles and relieved their poor Asgardian slaves of their duties for the day. It was already after midnight. The men scampered off and hobbled in different directions to their respective hovels.

They whizzed pass Loki and the little girl who clung to him without even noticing them in their midst. In a panic, the Dark-Elf soldiers dropped their broken weapons and ran off in confusion. Soon the young child lifted her face from the folds of Loki's cloak she looked up and noticed that laser bullets were still hovering and shimmering and floating in midair. She saw that Loki's blue hand was stretched forth and that it was trembling fiercely. Once everyone had left the area his hand fell to his side and he fell to his knees. The taser-bullets simply evaporated into thin air. The little girl's eyes were wide, her mouth hung open as she looked at what was around her and then looked at the man who she was with. "Wh-wh-what...what happened?' She asked with tears in her eyes. "is...is...is everyone..." Her bright green eyes looked around and she gulped. "Dead?"

"No," Loki answered as he managed to slow down his breathing.

"But... how? What happened? The lasers were frozen in the sky...I...I...I saw," she expressed. Loki slowly rose to his feet. He raised his finger to his lip and shushed the child. The other hand pointed toward the body in gold that lied face down in the mud. "Oh my goodness," she squealed. "The Gatekeeper!" Immediately her scrawny little legs took off and she ran as fast as she could toward him. She fell upon her knees when she reached him. "He's hurt! He's hurt!" She yelled to Loki. "Oh merciful Yggdrasil, he is hurt bad," she expressed. He was bleeding for all sides and he had a terrible gash in his head. Loki came over to where they were. He helped her roll the wounded man over. "This is all my fault! This is all my fault," she muttered as she rubbed her dirty face.

For a while, all the self-proclaimed king of Asgard could do was marvel at the sight of the man before him,. It was exactly who he had first imagined it may be only he seemed to have aged eons. His face was wrinkled and weathered. His crop of thick, curly black hair had thinned and whitened. He'd lost a dreadful amount of weight. Once he had had the proud form of an Einherjar, now he looked like a starving man. Loki's eyes scanned his body and the peg-leg hand been crudely applied not even using the advanced technology that the Aesir possessed, it had just been slapped on and attached to the flesh and it was festering and infected. But what was most alarming was the eyes. The eyes of this mighty man, eyes that had been blessed to see ten times sharper than an eagle. Eyes that could see to the edges of the galaxy. Eyes that had been intense and unyielding and burning with a bright fire now had been blinded and sewn shut. "Master Heimdal?" Loki muttered.

"What are we gonna do? What are we gonna do" asked the little girl as she looked at the strange blue man with tears in her eyes.

"He's hurt, but he is not dead yet," Loki cautioned her. "Girl, get me some water," he instructed. The child looked back and forth between the wounded guardian and the man she had just met. Finally, she nodded and got up and rushed off to fetch a pail of water.

In the meantime, Loki gingerly raised the golden-armored guardian from the mud. He cradled the back of his head where there was much blood pouring out. "Master Heimdal can you hear me?" He asked. There was only a moan as a reply. Loki pressed his fingers against the gatekeeper's sides. He quoted old words and his palm pulsated with a light. The light spread the wounds stitched themselves together. Next Loki went to administer healing to the head. He concentrated as he felt the nuances of the wound. It was a terrible blow to the head that had left internal bleeding and even caused a concussion and Loki had not the gifts of healing to correct all such ailments. Still, he did what he could to stop the blood flow and alleviate some of the pressure and swelling on the skull.

The Gatekeeper started to moan and rally as his wounds experienced sudden relief. "Master Heimdal, can you hear me?" Loki asked once more in earnest.

"Uh...yes..." He said as he tried to turn his head from side to side. His tongue darted out and tasted the fresh red blood on his split lip. "Master...master...master..." He mumbled to himself. "That is a word I have not heard in a long time," he moaned.

"Then it has been far too long," the Frost Giant sighed.

"You keep to the ancient ways," Heimdal said as he continued to muster the strength to speak.

"Ancient ways?" Loki voice became exasperated.

The armored man could hardly speak anymore, but he nodded. "Our culture dies," he huffed out a few shallow breaths. "Your voice...your voice...I recognize your voice," he muttered as his dry lips trembled. "But I haven't ...I haven't heard in such a long time..." He said anxiously and started choking.

"Child, quickly with the water!" Loki called over his shoulder and the little girl came racing back. She set the pale beside the stranger and observed the gatekeeper...she noted how his horrible wounds had seemed to suddenly disappear. She ladled out a bit of water and brought it to the guardian's lips. He drank deeply and very slowly. "Easy, it's alright," Loki warned. "Take your time, good Heimdal," Loki encouraged. Soon the Gatekeeper noted how thirsty he was and he began to guzzle vigorously.

"Is he going to be okay?" The child asked as she looked back and forth between the wounded guardian and the stranger.

"Ah, that voice," the gatekeeper said as he smacked his lips refreshed by the water. "I know it well. Tis the voice of nobility. A voice of Asgard." He exhaled, "from another time." He relaxed and thanked them for the water.

"M-master Heimdal, I don't understand," Loki shook his head. "what happened here?" Loki asked. "What year is it?" He inquired. "Is this...is this...really Asgard?" He asked in a whisper.

The gatekeeper sighed and started to cough. "So many questions," he said with a slight smile. "It is as if you have not been here," his lips pursed.

"In a manner of speaking," he chuckled bitterly and then continued to cough. "This is what has become of her," he sighed and gestured with his shaking hand.

"He calls himself a stranger, sir," the little girl squeaked.

Loki cast a glare at the child, but she seemed not to notice. She continued to offer the gatekeeper more water and she rubbed his hand. "Indeed, I am a stranger in this strange land...I have never seen anything like this. This can't be Asgard...the Realm Eternal," he muttered to himself. He closed his eyes unable to bear the terrible darkness and the sight of the dead bodies all around him once more.

"I assure you it is," Heimdal answered. "That is why it still stands, although just barely," he confessed. Heimdal shook himself and tried to sit up. Loki helped him do so. He sat him against the wall and propped him up and even still he slumped back down.

"Stands?" Loki's angry red eyes glanced around at the dark world around him. "This world does not stand. It is crumbling... It has crumbled!" He shouted.

"You speak well and with a voice of knowledge indeed it has crumbled. I am glad for the fact that I am blind... I do not wish to see what this land has become," he admitted. He sighed and hung his head against his chest.

But...how...how did this happen?" Loki's voice cracked.

"It was a long time ago...yet not so long ago," Heimdal expressed. "It happened during Convergences a couple of centuries ago now. The Aether was unleashed and its terrible powers of wrath and Darkness spread throughout the galaxy within a manner of days. The light was destroyed and chaos reigned," he explained as he shook his head.

"I know of the power of Aether," Loki stated. "I knew that it would destroy initially, but," His voice trailed off. "I thought...I thought...that we could rebuild...I thought that I would make Asgard even grander..."

"You thought you would?" The little girl questioned back after hearing Loki's words.

"Hush child!" Loki quieted the little girl. "I only meant that I thought in time that Asgard would survive, that she would still be a great kingdom, not...not...not...some crumbling wasteland full of slaves," He murmured bitterly.

"Well whatever you thought you thought wrong, sir...I can't imagine Helheim is worse than this place," she spoke and shrugged her shoulders.

"Young lady, mind your tongue!" Loki snapped at her.

Green eyes shimmered as the blue-skinned stranger spoke. The way he spoke was dignified and elegant sounding. It reminded her of the way she heard Master Heimdal speak and the way she heard he grandfather speak. "My grandfather calls me a lady, but no one else really speaks that way anymore," she expressed.

Heimdal turned his sightless eyes toward her, his big brown hand in circled her tiny one. "You are a lady my child, you are an aristocrat never forget it," he assured her and gave her hand a squeeze before he broke into a fit full of coughs.

"What's an air-wrist-toe-cat?" The dark-haired child scratched her head.

"Aristocrat," Loki's crisp words articulated. "It means that you are a child of nobility...royalty," the mage explained.

The young girl's bright emerald eyes shined like a polished stone. "Like the daughter of a queen?" She squealed.

"Or a prince," Heimdal sighed.

"The daughter of queen would be a princess just like in the book grandfather found for me," she stated hopefully.

"So is the daughter of a prince," Heimdal said as he inclined his head toward Loki who immediately looked away.

Loki shook his head and turned his attention to the girl. he studied her features. They were pudgy, but dainty and refined. If she would have been clean and maybe dressed in a manner that was even befitting for a pauper he suspected she could have been a pretty little girl. But there was something about her mannerisms and her gestures that was adorable and reminded him much of a child he knew and loved well so long ago. Still, Loki did his best to brush aside such thoughts. He couldn't be bothered with the parentage of the child now. "Child, please," he said as he wrapped his arm around the young woman's shoulder. "That bucket is almost empty. Go and fetch more water, for Master Heimdal," he instructed. The girl looked down and noted that she could indeed see the bottom of the bucket. Quickly, her spindly, little legs carried her off to search around the work site for more water.

While the girl was gone looking, Loki continued to try to use some of his enchantment to help the wounded guardian. The Dark-Elves had inflicted much damage on him and he was full of ruptured internal organs. "Lord Heimdal, I still do not understand. Where were the Einherjar when all of this happened?"

"They tried...they tried," Heimdal panted as he tried to position himself comfortably along the wall. His hand still held his aching side. "There was a great insurrection," he explained and gestured with his hands while struggling to breathe. "All the people of the Imperial City who were able rose up to fight against our oppressors. Men and women from across Asgard come to fight. The fighting lasted for weeks in the streets. Blood was spilled... We most definitely put a dent in the rebel force, but it wasn't enough," he expressed shaking his head. But after the Aether was unleashed resources became scarce. We couldn't feed the troops. The armies and militias grew week... Many were killed," Heimdal expressed. "And they feared for the lives of their families. The Dark-Elves rounded up many of the women and children and threatened to kill them if they were opposed. Malekith is a heartless creature, but the one he is under is even more ruthless and more savage than he," Heimdal said while he grabbed his side. He winced from the pain.

"The one who he is under..." Loki pondered out loud. "Thanos?" He whispered his face stricken.

"Thanos..." Lord Heimdal mashed his lips together and considered the name. "The Mad Titan," he stated.

"Yes," Loki reached out his cool hand and touched the gatekeeper. "He is the one who is behind this is he not?" He questioned.

"I have never seen Thanos," Heimdal rasped as he took in a sharp breath. "I only know of the monster that sits upon the throne in the palace and calls itself our king," he muttered through gritted teeth.

"Where is that girl?" Loki grumbled as he looked around. "I need water to even attempt more healing," he stated.

"Give her time," Heimdal assured him. "She is a goodly child and one of few children left in Asgard," he reported.

"Where have they gone?" The Frost Giant questioned.

The man in the tarnished golden armor bowed his head. "I tried to hide as many as I could," he shook his head. "I thought I could rescue them. The children and the women and the infirmed. I took them to the ancient stronghold, deep within the mountains..."

"Zaldivar?" Loki whispered.

"You know it?" Heimdal's voice was inquisitive. "It has so long been forgotten. It hasn't been used in more than 5000 years. Many of our young men do not know of it..."

"My fath... I was shown it years ago..." He stated curtly.

"I see," Heimdal arched his eyebrow. "We were safe there for a time. It had much provision and beauty, but even that sacred place was soon desecrated and ransacked. The Dark-Elves found us there and smoked us out. They slaughtered babes in front of their mothers. I have seen much," he waved his hand in front of his sightless eyes. "But in all my years I had never seen anything so terrible. There had never been a cry like that in all of Asgard and I doubt there shall ever be again." He let out a growl. "The Einherjar spared their allegiance to the beast to save the lives of the innocent," he explained.

Loki clenched his fist by his side. Rage was soon kindled in his soul. "And what of the other realms?"

"Some suffered a worse fate than us" the Guardian reported. "Jotunheim fell," he stated.

Loki snorted. "The cosmos are better rid of that race of monsters!"

"They were no monsters. They lived in peace with Asgard and the rest of the realms for many centuries. They obeyed the treaties and sanctions, put upon them. I now wish that our king would have tried to promote more peace among us and more understanding between our peoples instead of keeping alive the primordial prejudices that we so long held to," he stated.

"Your memory must be short Gatekeeper if you forgot the numerous occasions of Frost Giant treachery that we experienced," he snapped back.

Heimdal waved his hand in front of his face. "It matters little now. I would face the Frost Giants for an eternity rather than this heartless horde that have set themselves up as lords over us. They have no code of ethics or any honor within them," he complained. "The Frost Giants died of fever and disease when their polar ice caps melted. An entire race has been wiped out," he sighed.

"And the other realms... is there no place left?" Loki asked in earnest.

"Midgard also is gone," Heimdal expressed. "The mortals stood even less of a chance in surviving in a realm of chaos. Vanaheim was deserted. They thought it would be safer here, but little did they know of the hardships they would face. They aren't a strong constitutionally as we Asgardians and the bondage took devastating tolls on their populations. The Dark-Elves went to Vanaheim and attacked it as well. They set up a similar system there, but the Light Elves died as they watched their land die. Those who didn't... were made to harvest the few crops that could be found. And Musepelheim simply bowed to the will of the Dark-Elves. They became their willing soldiers that they used to round up elves and dwarves scattered throughout the realms. The Norns have not been heard from," He said all this in one breath and then slouched down.

"So there is nothing we can do?" Loki speculated.

"There is no more that I can do," Heimdal explained as he let out a shuddering sigh.

Just then, the little girl came running back out. Her gait was lopsided as she struggled to carry the heavy pail. "I got it! I got it! I got it!" She cried excitedly as she tottered forth the water from the bucket sloshed and splashed out as she came running toward them. "I found more water," she exclaimed.

Loki beckoned her forth and when she reached his side she hurriedly and gratefully plopped the heavy pail by his knees. She was panting and fell to her knees. Loki put a hand on her back and steadied. Her. "Good work, girl." He encouraged.

"Thank you, child," Master Heimdal expressed as he turned to her.

"Anything for you good Heimdal," the child nodded she scooted closer to him and wrapped her dirty arms around his neck. "It's my fault this happened to you. I should have never been leaving Bedlam," she reported.

"I would have glade done it again," he informed her.

"Master Heimdal, do not speak. Try to save your strength, I will try to heal your wounds a little further," Loki told him. Heimdal nodded and Loki dipped his hand into the bucket of warm water. When he pulled it out his hand was glowing with a bright blue light. The little girl gasped and marveled at what she saw. Loki pressed his hand against the wounded areas of Heimdal's flesh. Blood stopped hemorrhaging and broken bones snapped back into place. Swelling went down and discoloration was ended. Heimdal moaned as he felt the healing take place across his body. He closed his eyes and relaxed as pleasurable sensations of hot and cold soothed his aches and pains away.

"Incredible!" The child muttered. "You're a healer!" She gasped.

"No, I'm not," Loki corrected as he turned to her. He raised a finger toward the child. "I know a few simple healing incantations, but t his is only temporary. You need to get to a true healer, Heimdal and quickly." He instructed.

"There are no healers left," Heimdal stated.

"There are no healers in the entire realm?" Loki asked in disgust and disbelief.

"You do not understand the magnitude of these dark times, my lord," Heimdal sighed. "The Dark-Elves rounded up our healers. They brought them to the palace to heal the elves who had been injured. They wouldn't allow them to tend to our wounded. When the healers refused to tend the injured elves. Malekith ordered that they be killed. The Dark-Elves have found a few of their Light-Elf cousins who have been willing to serve as a healing force within the palace.

"What about the enchanters?" Loki questioned.

Heimdal started to scoff. "There is no magic in this land anymore," he explained.

"The monster who rules this land gobbled them all up!" The little girl informed the Frost Giant. She snapped her hands together like a crocodile. "He gobbled them all up and took their powers, isn't that right Master Heimdal?"

Heimdal allowed a smile to trace across his lips. "I can't say if all of that is true, but he did destroy our enchanters. He wanted himself and Malekith to be the only magic users left so that he would be unchallenged." Heimdal explained.

"But you...you...you..." The little girl pointed to the blue-skinned foreigner in front of her. "You...you know magic," she exclaimed. "Maybe...maybe," her green eyes darted back and forth as she looked between the two men. She tugged on Heimdal's large hand. "Maybe...maybe it's a sign!" She called out.

Heimdal gave the child's pale hand a weak squeeze. His lips curled at the edges. "Yes, child, yes, I do believe that it is," he responded his baritone voice was raspy. He turned his head in Loki's direction. "I told you that there is not more I can do...but I believe there is more that you can do,"

"Me?" Loki pointed to himself. "No, no," he shook his head. "I am just passing through this land..."

"To go to where?" Heimdal questioned. "There is no safety from this storm. If it hasn't happened where you are it soon will," he warned and then he started coughing the cough was terrible, deep and musty. He coughed up a sick, thick, dark-colored mucus.

"We have to get you out of this chill, Master Heimdal," he explained. The wind was starting to pick up and he looked up. The land was already dark, but he could see black clouds gathering in the heavens. Loki started to remove his cloak. Then like a shadow it crossed his mind that he was in a horrible Frost Giant form. He couldn't allow himself to be exposed. But Heimdal was sightless and the girl was clueless it seemed. Slowly he started to pull his cloak from around his arms and drape it over the gatekeeper. "Can we take you home?" Loki asked.

Heimdal chuckled as he heard the words. He had remained steadfast in his post for nearly 3000 years. He had always had a small estate within side the city limits, but he rarely used the abode. There was a compartment within the Bifrost that allowed for resting quarters. That is where he had always resided. The Bifrost had been destroyed and a wall had been resurrected in its place. He had no doubt that Malekith's thugs had taken hold of his estate. No, this had been his home for centuries. He had nowhere else to go. The guardian of the Bifrost that was no more wagged his head and shook his arms in front of his face. "I stay here," he patted the ground.

"Come, come, you can't stay out here," Loki said tenderly as he shook his head. "I'm sure this little girl and her grandfather have enough room for both of us at their home," he winked at the little girl.

She eagerly tugged on the Gatekeeper's hand. "Oh yes, yes, my grandfather would feel so honored and happy if you came," she insisted nodding her head. "Please, Master Heimdal won't you come. This man says he has food enough for me and my grandfather and I'm sure we can have enough to share with you. Oh, please won't come," she entreated him.

"No child," he replied. "This is my post." He expressed as he exhaled. He was still in a great deal of pain and it was plainly written on his face. "I failed to protect Asgard from these invaders. I let them slip right pass these old eyes that were supposed to be gifted to see the farthest reaches of the galaxy, yet they could not see what was right before them," he shook his head and one single tear bunched around his closed eyelids. "I was not watchful for an attack. I failed my king and I failed the people of Asgard, I failed the Nine Realms because I didn't watch for our enemies. Since then every day I have prayed for the opportunity to watch for our salvation if there be any," he said and once more he started to cough and heave. Loki put a steadying hand on his shoulder. He stopped coughing and he raised his head and faced Loki. "I believe I have seen that day now that you have come," Heimdal's busted lips flashed a smile.

"What?" Loki balked at the golden guardian's words. "No...you are wrong...you are mistaken," he shook his head.

"No, I am not," Heimdal stated sternly. His hand reached out and he clutched Loki by the arm. He felt the chill of his Frost Giant flesh against his Asgardian skin. He hissed as he took on the burn. He grunted as he bore the pain. He let go after a minute not able to endure the frostbite any longer.

"Master Heimdal, I'm sorry," Loki apologized. His face looked stricken. The little girl's eyes were wide as she examined the blue and red and purplish markings that now covered the Gatekeeper's palm. She didn't understand what had happened. She'd never seen anything like that before. How could a person one minute possess healing abilities and they the next minute seem to inflict so much pain on her. Then she remembered what her grandfather had told her about the power of the Aether. How it made light into darkness. It was dark-matter and corrupted everything that it touched. It turned light to darkness and it turned lush rain forest into deserts. It turned gentle creatures into predators and it turned good food to poison. Perhaps it could even make a person who was able to heal also able to hurt. It made sense. She looked at the stranger before her. His face was keen and sharp, but it wasn't hard or harsh. And his eyes even though they were a hellish red they weren't violent eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she heard him mutter over and over. She heard him mumbled a few expletives under his breath. Loki hated his natural state more than ever now. "Can't you see, I'm not the one who you think I am, please," he begged.

"No," Heimdal responded weakly. "This only confirms it." He nodded. "I know I recognized your voice...but It had been... It had been so long. I watched as you fell from the Bifrost all those centuries ago. These eyes," he began as he pointed to the permanently shut eyelids on his face. "These eyes scoured the Nine Realms in search of your body," he expressed. He raised his wrinkled, think brown hand up toward Loki's pointed nose. Loki flinched and shirked backed. He didn't want to inflict anymore paint upon this valiant man.

"No...I'm not who you think I am," Loki protested with his hands and his side balled up into tight fists. 'I never was don't you see!" His voice started to shake. "That was only a sham! A glamour...something that I was made into. Odin made me that! He used me!" He pounded his chest to explain.

"Odin!" The girl gasped.

"No you are wrong, my prince," Heimdal whispered his voice was low.

"Don't call me that!" Loki snapped back. "I'm not your prince! You don't know me or what I'm capable of!"

"I have known you all your life," Heimdal responded each word had stammered out on an uneasy breath as a shaky finger finally dared to touch Loki's nose. Loki and Heimdal both simultaneously gasped as their skins came into contact with one another. Heimdal held his breath bracing himself for the pain. Loki mashed his thin blue lips together and thought of an enchantment he hand used to soothe the pain. He hoped that it would counter the effects of his Jotun skin. Heimdal did not scream out or moan in discomfort. Instead, he let his finger linger there. He continued to trace the sharp edges of Loki's face and jawline. He followed the etchings and the markings in his skin that told the lineage of the Frost Giant tribe that he had hailed from. "The sign of royalty if I have ever seen any," Heimdal smiled.

"You fool," Loki spat and shook his head. "You don't have eyes to see, but I...I am... I am the one who did..."

Heimdal's finger rose to cover Loki's lips. He shook his head and silenced the man. "You are the only one who can stop this. You. You are a true heir to the throne who can make this right," he encouraged.

"I can't," Loki panted.

"You must." Heimdal struggled to continue to speak. "You must remember who you are," he stated.

"I don't know who I am anymore, Master Heimdal," Loki confessed as his lips trembled under the weight of Heimdal's finger.

"Look inside your heart," the old gatekeeper instructed as he started coughing.

Loki pointed to his chest. He pulled back his tunic and revealed a large scar that ran across his chest. He was rather astonished at the mark himself. There was crisscross marking on his blue skin that was scarred cobalt. It wasn't bleeding and as he put his hand over his chest he couldn't even make out his own heartbeat. "I don't have one!" He claimed.

"Find it." Heimdal admonished as he started to cough once more. His coughing became more violent and he was soon trembling fiercely. The young girl offered him more water. She scooped it up in the wooden ladle and positioned it near his lips. The Gatekeeper took one more sip to calm his fitful coughing spells. "Thank you, my child," he said as he wiped his lips. "You both must get going," he stated to them. "The hour grows late and I can only imagine how worried your grandfather will be very worried and the storm is right over our heads." He waved his hand in the air.

"You need shelter and tending to as well Heimdal," Loki told him. "There has to be somewhere I can take you. An inn, a friend's house?" Loki asked desperately. Heimdal shook his head and pointed his finger toward a small, shelter that he had made of scraps. It was nothing but a few piles of bricks only stacked high enough for a person to sit beside. He had a few two sticks on either side of his simple structure and he had a flat piece of metal that rested on top of the sticks. He had draped a ratty looking piece of cloth over the metal to provide some shade. "Lord Heimdal...I...I can't" Loki shook his head as he looked at the tiny hovel where the once proud guardian was forced to sleep. This mighty century who had protected Asgard since before he was born, who had often time been his tutor and his confidant. He had had one of the noblest stations in all of Asgard. He had been the proudest of men, a personal friend and adviser to the royal family. He had served in his position with pride and determination. He could have used his honored title and had luxury or gain, but rather he had always acted as a humble servant to the crown and to the people. He afforded himself no lavished lifestyle, but at least he had always had a proper place to rest his head. Now he was just to sleep in the streets on the outskirts of the miserable town. Honestly, Loki would not have wished such a fate on even a dog, let alone the warrior before him. Loki looked down at his hands. "There isn't much more that I can do for you in the healing department," he expressed. "Your injuries are severe and you need proper tending to and at least a comfortable place to sleep for the night," Loki state sternly.

"But you have done much and I thank you for that." He raised his hand and clamped it out Loki's shoulder.

"I don't want to leave you like this," Loki said with pain on his face.

"You must," Heimdal ordered. "I shall be alright," He said slowly, his breathing seemed weaker and all of a sudden his voice was very faint and drowsy sounding. "I have held on for so long..." Another rattling cough tore from his chest. And he groaned miserably as he felt the pain of the bruises in his ribs give way. "I had to," he insisted as he tried to calm his fit down, but there was little he could do. he continued to cough and hack and wheeze until blood and spittle flew from his mouth. "It's my job," he went on. "My sworn oath as Gatekeeper to keep Asgard safe. I had already failed in that duty, but I could not rest until I knew that we have a chance," His mouth stretched in a broad smile. "I can be at peace," he sighed and allowed his head to rest on the cold, wet wall. The Guardian's breathing slowed

"Master Heimdal? M-master Heimdal?" Loki called gently as he clutched the man by the arm.

The little girl let out a terrible screech in fear. Her petrified scream was so loud that it was enough to send the buzzards who seemed to gather on the wall off cawing. It didn't rouse Heimdal, though. "Is he...is he?" Th little girl asked with her lip quivering and her finger shaking as she pointed down at the old gatekeeper. Loki felt along the edge of Heimdal's neck and detected a slight tremble in the pulse. he shook his head and calmed the child's fears. He patted the air and tried to settle her. With that, he bent down and scooped up the guardian. He was amazed that he had been able to. Once Heimdal had been a man built like a bull. He had been hewn of muscle. His armor was rumored to have weighed two hundred pounds in gold. His golden helmet was said to be 50 pounds. Loki had always been slight of frame by Aesir standards and he was sure that he would have never normally been able to lift Heimdal even an inch off the ground, but now he picked up the man with ease and held him in his arms like a babe. He was light as a feather. His armor was obviously a pitiful replica, a mockery of the masterful coat of arms that had been designated for the Gatekeepers to wear. It seemed as if it was only made of painted tin. Gingerly, carried the old man over to his makeshift hut. He carefully sat him down on the stones and the bits of ripped fabric that he had amassed for carpeting. He instructed the child to gather the scraps of clothing and bunch them together to make a pillow for Heimdal to rest his head. Loki soon set him down. He removed the tarnished armor and observed the old gatekeepers emaciated body. He was simply skin and bones. Loki knelt down beside him and finally removed his outer cloak. He wrapped Heimdal in the thick garment tightly as if it were a swaddling cloth. He then ran his blue hands along Heimdal's sickeningly thin form. He scanned further for injuries. There were so many bruises and contusions on the man's body. He had cracked ribs and his knee had been dislocated. His spleen had been ruptured. There was internal bleeding inside his stomach and Loki observed that the pressure and swelling on his skull were starting to form and bubble again. The self-proclaimed king of Asgard was able to numb the pain of such injuries and he could reset the broken bones but he was unable to truly fix any of the serious ailments. Still, Loki moved his hands in a slow and fluid motion over Heimdal's body. Heimdal's form would give a slight jerk ever so slightly with each ebb and flow of Loki's hands and gestures. He started to sigh and he seemed to breath more easily. Loki whispered ancient mystical words and Heimdal's body was bathed in a rich green light. Loki waited for a minute until the light from his ministrations evaporated. He signaled to the child and beckoned for her to follow him. They exited silently and somberly.

The young girl scampered behind the tall, lean, blue stranger. She kept stealing glances at Heimdal until he was completely out of her view. Her small, dusty fingers strayed to grab Loki by the hand. The gentle touch of the child nearly made the Frost Giant crawl out of his skin. Once again, he was alarmed at the fact that her hand seemed completely unfazed by his Jotun flesh. She clung to him tightly. "Is he going to be alright?" The little girl asked.

Loki wanted to respond no. The Gatekeeper was old and weak, he was sick and wounded mortally. Without the proper medical care, his chances of survival were very remote. If only he would have had a healing crystal at least he could have performed some type of magic that could have gotten him stable, but all he had been able to do was make Heimdal comfortable if he didn't succumb to the elements. Instead, Loki swallowed. "I don't know," he lied.

They journeyed on, just a little further into the dilapidated town that scarcely could call itself a city. The streets were blackened like charcoal where there had once been golden bricks that lined the streets. Stately mansions and illustrious villas and apartments that had been made of limestone and marble that had reached to the sky, now were just crumbling, ruinous, columns and piles of rubble. The streets were cluttered with liter and scraps and refuse. There were pieces of glass and scraps of metal all about the streets, thick stones, jagged edges and thorns from the weeds that grew recklessly through the cracks of rubble. Loki slightly feared for the little girl's tiny bare feet, but she seemed to easily negotiate through the mean and gritty streets of the city. Loki's nose caught a whiff of the repugnant smell of the city. The stench of burning bodies and must and bile and rotten meat and sickness filled the air. The streets of the Imperial City used to be filled with the fine scents of the most expensive ladies perfume, the fresh scent of fresh fruits and spices for all across the nine realms being sold in the marketplace. Now there was none of that. There was scarcely a marketplace at all. The atmosphere was dirty and polluted clouds of Aether ash still hung low in the air and filled the sky with an eerie and ominous red glow and made it hard to breathe. The self-proclaimed king of this land soon found himself coughing. He pulled his high collar up around his mouth to keep his lungs clear of the smog.

Loki didn't hear the sound of people chattering happily, he didn't hear laughter and music and pleasant discourse. Instead, there was just the boisterous sound of whips cracking, arguments and fights cawing vultures, screams sighs and sobs. There were no vendors shouting to the bustling public about their wondrous wares, there were no minstrels enchanting the passerby with their lutes and flutes and fiddles and songs. No storytellers beckoning the children into their playhouses to hear a tale. It was a cacophony of catastrophe and symphony of sorrows.

The worse sight of all wasn't the broken down buildings or the houses that were now simply mud and thatch huts, but it was the sight of the people. Loki's bright, gleaming red eyes beheld as people walked around like zombies. They seemed soulless and heartless and willess. They walked through the seats in a fog and has. There were no smiles on their faces. No pep in their step. No light in their eyes. They were dirty and haggard and worn looking. Each one of them skeletal and barefoot and dressed in rags. The men were broken and weak the women wane and plain when they should have been beautiful beyond all compare and dressed in finery that would put flowers to shame. They could hardly stand. Several were missing limbs, others were missing a tooth here and an eye there. The brawled and argued with one another. The scrapped like cats and dogs over the measliest crumb and crust. Some tried to rip even the thinnest tunic or rumpled garment off the others back and sell it to a dark elf for a farthing or a penny. It was sickening and pitiful.

Still, others clamored and lined the doors trying to push their way into a small tavern. Loki didn't know whether to smile or sneer at the fact that the love of mead still remained among the people. But now it seemed appropriate. For how else would people in such squalid conditions find a way to make merry? The tavern was called the Scullery Maid. Outside the walls of the taverns were the most desirable women that Loki had seen since he'd come to the place called Bedlam. The women were dressed at least adequately dressed. They had on dull colors, but full skirts and low cut brasiers. They seemed as if they were at least fed, for they had bosom enough to make their revealing garments enticing. They seemed to be managed by a plump Dark-Elf. Who would charge men their cloaks, shoes and socks to catch a glimpse of one of the comely maidens?

As Loki and the young child continued to walk hurriedly across the streets several of the Aesir people began to spy him. Loki could feel their eyes being drawn to him. They stared long and hard. They squinted and scrutinized. Loki felt his frosty skin start to sweat. it felt like he was melting after all. He knew that they were staring at the nasty, disgusting Frost Giant in their midst. No doubt they would rise up and stone him. He went to pull up his cloak and hide his unsightly blue skin, but as his hand reached back to grab his hood he recalled that he had given the covering to Heimdal. There he was exposed to the harsh condemning crowd. "How much further, child?" Loki demanded anxiously.

"Not much further, sir," she shrugged.

"We may need to go into this tavern. Seems a popular spot," he said as he scratched his throat.

"Oh no, sir. My grandfather would never let me go into a place like that," she protested.

"Only for a minute..." Loki admonished her. "I need to get out of the crowd," he insisted his breath hitching as his eyes nervously darted around and he saw men and women drawing closer and closer to him.

The little girl looked around she did notice the people were drawing near to them. "But why?" She asked in bewilderment. Loki immediately clutched her by the wrist he rose up on his toes and was ready to run off into the tavern, but the Aesir had formed a circle around them. There sunken in dark eyes held puzzled looks in them. Their mouths were either dangling open or quirked curiously. They started to ask questions amongst themselves. They scratched their heads and gave strange glances to one another. One particularly scruffy man appeared out the crowd. He pointed and jeered and got the crowd even more riled up. Loki was sure that he was found out. He was sure that the Asgardians would hate the Frost Giant in their midst. He was shocked when all of a sudden several of the Aesir started to bow down before him. They got on their hands and knees scrimping and scraping and crawling toward him. Some of the women were sobbing as they clutched babes to their chest. Others were old men. "What are they doing?" The little girl wondered aloud. She had rarely seen the people in the city act like this, with such awe and amazement. There was little to become excited over in the city. Accept bath day when they ran the fountains and allowed the people to be cleaned for inspection when Malekith and the monster paraded themselves down the streets. Usually, the people were fighting or brawling or in some frantic, frenzied state. This was different. Some bowed their head to the ground as they gathered around the man clad in fine garbs. They pointed in amazement. They seemed to be kissing Loki's boots. More reached their hands up and tried to feel Loki's fine threads. Loki took steps back trying to escape the throngs of dirty, grubby, grabby hands that tried to take hold of him. There was a time when truly this had been all he had ever desired. He had craved such attention and adoration from the humans on Midgard. But this...this was weird. They were astonished and gaped and sobbed and pressed the nearly clean, smooth tunics to their faces. Loki tried to turn around to escape their clasps, but everywhere there was someone staring at him like he was some spectacle. They pulled on him and started to cry.

"Alms! Alms my lord," one elderly woman cried as she wrapped her arms around Loki's ankles.

"Mercy, please good sir, spare an alm for a poor wretch such as myself sir," a lame man begged.

Loki looked down in astonishment. Now he had seen beggars on the Imperial streets before but never to this magnitude. As far as his eye could see, everywhere was a dirty hand raised high, out-stretched or clutched entreating him for some measly token.

"Please, my lord, may I just have a piece of your coattails, I can sell it and get some milk and bread for my children," said a woman. She looked young, but he eyes were old and weathered.

"My sir, please...please...please have you a six-pence to offer, I have not eaten in a whole week," he expressed with tears in his eyes as he rested his hand on his stomach. Loki looked out at the magnitude of them each in terrible need, all in dire straights, but he couldn't possibly help them all. He had no means for them. He looked at his hands. He had a few rings on his fingers. And he noted that his clothing seemed to be of value to these poor souls and Loki began to rip the sleeve of his garment to shreds and he scattered bits and pieces of the royal fabric on the ground. He continued to tear off some of the leather from his garment and he tossed it aside. Immediately, he heard the voices of the people exclaim in adulation as they saw the garments of the ground. Some thanked him and blessed him, but the rest began fighting like dogs over the scraps of the ground. They tore and pulled and tugged and wrestled one another each desperate for a quarter inch of a piece of silk of leather that they could hock for a loaf of bread. It was pitiful. Women dove in and kicked and punched and seemed as if they would scratch each other's eye out. Men too hopped on top of one another bashing one another in the head and pulling at beards trying to take hold of the fine cow hid that the Frost Giant had so easily discarded on the ground. Loki looked on the display with disgust as he watched a pair roll by both caught in a tug of war over a slither of green velvet.

"it's mine!"

"I saw it first!"

"Give it here!"

"I need it more!" The endless arguments rose up from the crowd.

"This is madness," Loki whispered to the little girl by his side. The child simply shrugged. This was the way people always were in the city. The Dark-Elves took everything from the people and in order to get the necessities, any luxury had to be traded in. Few people in Bedlam had any money now, though some who worked for the Dark-Elves may have been afforded a few farthings, but even those who had usually had to give up their money to get shoes or cloth or milk or bread. The Dark-Elves distributed those things during the early market hours. Everything else the people bartered amongst themselves. "

"Hey! Hey, Stop that!" Called a scruffy man with a patchy beard of mixed gray and orange hair. He seemed to stumble forth out of the crowd with a lopsided walk. "Why you all scraping and acting a fool in front of this here creature!" He said with his nose pinched up and his face snarled like a warthog. He gestured with his finger and pointed up and down at Loki. Loki sucked in a sharp breath, he was almost relieved that someone was going to call him out the horrendous species that he was. He knew all of Asgard could not have forgotten their deep-seated hatred for the Frost Giants. The scruffy Aesir walked closer to Loki and Loki squared his shoulders proudly. The man hacked up and wad of saliva thick as mud and black as tar at Loki's feet. "What, you one of them?" The man asked in somewhat a disgusted tone and rubbed under his nose once more.

"I beg your pardon," began Loki. "One of what?" He asked as he pushed the little girl behind him.

The scruffy man smelled profoundly of stale mead. He carried a wineskin at his side. "You a Light Elf whose sworn allegiance to these monsters?" He asked. "Traitor? TRAITOR!" He accused as he took a swig from his flask.

"No," Loki answered calmly.

"Yes, you did!" Another accused. He was a cripple who sat in a wheel-barrel. He raised his finger and pointed at Loki through all the crowd. "I saw you!" The man shouted. The crowd gasped. "You sold out, didn't you. Thinking that you could protect your precious forests! Well, a lot of good that did you!" He humphed and spat.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Loki said he still clung to the young girl's hand and he tried to push through the thick crowd of people that were surrounding them, but the people didn't budge. "Let us pass," Loki ordered through gritted snow-white teeth.

"Not so fast!" The man with the patchy red beard shot back. He was still incredibly thin, but he had muscled that no doubt had come from hard labor. He wore hardly anything but a pair of tattered trousers that looked like they were all that he had worn in months. "Your people could have at least tried to challenge the Dark-Elves! You could have done something!" The man started to scream in his face. "Now look at us all," he exclaimed as he spread his arms wide. He went ballistic, yelling and shouting and fuming and fussing. He soon started swinging, loud and rowdy. "You could have tried! You could have tried! You could have tried to save us," he continued to yell. "You Light-Elves were so busy trying to save the forests that... that that you sold out. Sold your souls to these devils!" He spat. His arms flew out and tried to take Loki by the neck as if he was going to ring him by the neck. Loki dodged the blow and pushed the man down and he went tumbling into the mud.

"Stop it! Stop it!" The child shouted. She got in between them just as the bearded man pushed himself out of the mud and seemed poised to strike. Loki put his hands toward his belt. He picked up a dagger that he had lodged there. Loki immediately pushed the tiny child behind him as the man on the floor leaped back up with the quickness and was ready to start swinging once more.

He grabbed Loki by the golden collar of his tunic and he was strong enough in his stupor that he was able to lift the self-proclaimed king off the ground. Loki quickly countered by point the shining edge of his blade at the man's throat. Once more noise and fear rose up from the group gathered all around. "I'm no Elf" Loki proclaimed as he thrust the daggers point deeper into the soft-spot on the man's chin just underneath the beard. He winced and then screamed out just a tad as the knife tasted his blood. Finally, he dropped Loki. Loki fell on his back and into the black mud below. Loki shook himself disgusted by the sludge that now coated his tunics.

"The only ones who dress so finely, are those that pledged themselves to the service of the Dark-Elves, but even they don't dress as finely as you," the big scruffy man grunted as he wiped the blood from his face.

"Well, I'm not one of them," Loki stated as he pushed himself up off of the ground.

"Then you must belong to one of the females!" Called out the man in the wheel barrel.

Loki jerked his head back. "I belong to no one," Loki protested.

"Ah, they do pamper their little pets don't they," someone in the crowd jeered. There were only a few female members to the force of Svartalfheim. Loki could only recall about a dozen or so that he'd counted among their ranks. But it was obvious that the Dark-Elves would need to interbreed with other races in order to survive. They had been preserved for some time in the stasis, but their lives were not as long as those of their Light-Elf cousins or the Aesir for that matter. He had had the opportunity to overhear the Dark-Elf soldiers talking in the barracks and he knew that they found the Aesir women attractive. Naturally, the women of Asgard were fair beyond all compare and in his discussions from Malekith he had learned that the general was not beyond taking a beautiful woman as a spoil of war, but he truly hadn't considered that the female soldiers may have done the same.

All of a sudden there was much whispering and heckling and chatter and laughter throughout the crowd. The scruffy bearded man was once again pointing and laughing. "So they be the way of it then?" he doubled over and guffawed. "No, need to be ashamed now lad, you're not the only man to line up to be a part of some Dark-Elf ladies boudoir," he laughed until he was red in the face. "Better than living out here like a stray dog," he clapped Loki on the back. "hey, at least you are a lap dog," he continued to road. "Not a miserable hound like the rest of us," he gestured to the crowd. "I would have lined up to if I had a pretty mug like yours," he taunted. The crowd around him followed in fashion as many continued to try and divide the bits of fabric and leather and even some golden buttons that had come off with the tattered sleeve. The scruffy bearded man picked up his wineskin and chugged a hearty gulp then he tossed it over his shoulder toward Loki. "Here, sir have a drink on me for having to subject yourself to one of those Dark-Elf females," he kept on laughing. He slapped his knee a few times and then turned back to see if Loki was drinking from it. The regally dressed man looked down at the wineskin but turned his nose up at the offered. To this, the citizen with the patchy orange and gray beard sneered. "Well aren't you right uppity," he proclaimed as he curled his lips and made his voice go an octave higher. "Too good to drink from my wineskin, hey?" He grumbled as he rubbed under his nose once more.

"I have no need for strong drink right now, friend," Loki offered in simple terms. He picked up the wineskin from the ground and offered it back to the man.

"Friend!" Once again the man's snout snarled up like a pig. "Friend!" He spat and coughed once more as he got himself all worked up. He roughly snatched the wineskin out of Loki's hand. He stuck the spout of the wineskin up to his eye and observed that most of the drink had been spilled from the flask. His dirty face immediately turned as red a beet. "Friend!" He barked once more. "Are you kidding me?" He growled. "Call yourself a friend?" He spat. "After you squander a gift like that! Like that!" He started to shout. "I sold my left boot...the only matching pair of boots I had... for a month's supply of wine!" He proclaimed. He raised his smelly, muddy foot toward Loki's nostrils and the dark-haired stranger took a step back from the gnarled and fungus-infected toes. "And you just go and waste it on the ground like that!" He spat. he rolled his shoulders and gave Loki a mighty shove. The man clad in evergreen vestments stumbled backward a tad bit but he did not fall. "I should take all your clothes for what you cost me!" He hollered in the muddy streets. The man kept hulking up. He heaved and rolled his shoulders, he cracked his knuckles and pounded his fist. "Come on! Come on! Come on!" He screamed and thumped his thin and scarred chest. Loki stood his ground not even batting so much as an eyelash at the drunken man's bravado. The scruffy, scoundrel put up his dukes. He bobbed and weaved and danced around Loki and took jabs at the air. Finally, in all his gallant efforts he had exhausted himself. He stood in place for a moment. He panted and thumbed at his own nose. "What? What? You going to pull out one of your little daggers that the Dark-Elf woman gave to you?" He questioned as he pointed at Loki's belt.

King Loki shook his head, "I don't need a dagger to defeat you."

The tall, mixed gray and red-bearded man shook his head and once again started to laugh. "You aren't anything special, you know," the man laughed. "You aren't anything!" He shouted back. "You think you something because you wear the fine clothes that your little Dark-Elf ladies let you wear. You're nothing but their whore!" He insulted. Loki didn't flinch at his insult. "You're just like us" he pointed out and waved his arms motioning to the crowd of people around them. "Matter a fact," he paused and put his finger to his chin. "You are lower than us!" He declared and he spat at Loki's feet. "You are lower than us cuz you walk around with your head held all high and mighty. Like you still pretend this is the days of old. WAKE UP!" He yelled in Loki's face as he stumbled closer to him. "Old Asgard is dead, can't you see!" He spread his arms wide and he let out a slight shudder and a sigh. "This is Bedlam," he informed Loki. "There's no royalty or nobility left here," he stated with a huff. "And if there was...you certainly wouldn't be it," he concluded. "No, there's no royalty or nobility...Helheim there's not even freeborn men...only slaves," he explained. "And you are one of us now," the scruffy man proclaimed. With that, he wiped his brow and whistled to the men who had been a part of his entourage. He turned on his heels and hobbled off. Many of the able-bodied men in the crowd that surrounded Loki followed suit. They dispersed and lumbered forward. The went away stumbling and swearing and drinking.

The congregation had significantly thinned, but there were still several who remained. They were still trying to glean what they could from the scraps of clothing that Loki had given them. Some still were trying to divide tattered threads among themselves. More continued to beg and grovel entreating the dapper stranger for whatever his could spare. Loki plucked all the silver and gold buttons and tassels and stitching from the arms of his sleeve and distributed them to the needy. The men and women of Bedlam bent down and kissed Loki's boots and even his hands. Finally, after they had offered him much thanks they slowly staggered away into the night.

The little girl looked up at Loki with her eyes blinking and her body slightly shaking. "I told you we should have gone into the tavern," Loki said smartly to her and he winked at her. Her trembling immediately ceased and she started to giggle.

"That was Mordu," the child explained. "Some people say that he used to be a city guard or something. He's a drunk now and he always starts a fight," he explained as she continued to lead Loki onward. They had only taken a few steps when all of a sudden a figure cloaked in a thin, mesh, gray cloak hobbled forward. Whoever it was had a severe limp and seemed to watch their steps as they walked. The jumped as people passed them by too quickly. The cloaked figure made their way over to the tavern and put hands out apparently begging for something. The tavern owner, who was a white-faced, black-eyed, pudgy-bellied Dark-Elf soldier shouted something nasty at the cloaked figure. He started throwing pots and pans and the cloaked person ran away like a skittish cat, stumbling and skirting across the dirty ground. While on the ground slender, dirty fingers came from beneath the ratty, moth-eaten gray cloak those hands felt desperately along the ground for any bits and scraps that they could find. They followed along a trail of threads and yarn that seemed to be all that was left from Loki's generosity. The hands greedily groped and grabbed at every tiny, little piece that they could find and pulled them close. The little girl's bright green eyes squinted. "I think...I...I...I think I know that person," she said eagerly as she pointed at the huddled mass of mesh fabric in the streets. She rose up on her tip-toes and practically skipped.

Loki cocked his head to the side. A lopsided grin formed on his thin blue lips as he looked down at the little girl. "You know everyone," he stated as he put his hands on his hips.

"Well, Bedlam is rather small and we all depend on one another a lot," she explained.

"I can see that," Loki said sorrowfully. Loki was about to say something else to the little girl. He was about to say that she and all the people deserved a life that was so much better than this, but before he could even open his mouth the young lass had scampered off to greet the cloaked figure.

The little girl approached the person dressed in the dirty gray cloak and as the little bare feet drew close the cloak figured let out a scaredy-cat yell and sprang up immediately as if ready to run away. Loki watched curiously as he saw the figure get ready to dart away until the little girl grabbed the cloak and pulled the person back. "Hey, hey, hey," the child started softly. She put up her hands spoke in a whisper like she was speaking to a frightened animal. "It's just me. It's just me. I'm not here to hurt you," she explained.

The cloaked person seemed to settle down. Loki watched as the thin, dirty hands came and settled on the child's shoulders, then they strayed to play in her thick, black locks and even pinch her soot-covered cheeks. The cloaked figure got on their knees once more. "Oh, child. Oh, child, it's just you," the person stated. "Do you have any snails to spare today for your old friend, my girl?" The person asked still stroking her hair.

The little girl turned back to her newfound friend. She had a somewhat concerned look on her face. "Well..." She started as she shuffled her foot around in the mud. "I didn't get any snails or clams today," she expressed.

The woman's thin, filthy face was positively crestfallen at the news. "Low tide?" She asked in a quiet voice.

"Well...no not exactly," the little girl began. "See I was on the beach and I had my pail and shovel and I was collecting like I do, but then I saw somebody else on the beach..."

"Someone else?" The woman's chocolate eyes went wide. She shook her head. "Who? One of the Dark-Elf soldiers?" She asked as her eyes nervously darting around.

"No," the little girl replied. "Not a Dark-Elf..."

"Then who?" The woman took hold of the child's shoulders and shook her.

"I dunno his name. He's a stranger here, I guess, but..."

"Stranger!" She practically shrieked. She jumped in the air as if she would jump out of her skin and out of her cloak.

"You have to calm down," the child said as she took the jumpy woman by the hand.

"I don't like strangers..." The brown-haired maiden said as she shook her head and shivered. "Don't like them at all...don't like them at all," she muttered.

"I think he's a good stranger," the little girl took the older female by the hand and she stroked her dirty skin. "I...He's been helping a lot of people. That thread that you have there. That's his... He ripped his clothes and gave it away so that the people could buy food," she said with a smile.

"Where'd he get these things from?" She asked as she looked at the torn black and green fabric that was in her hands. "I haven't seen these in..." She bit her lip and shook her head.

"I don't know he was wearing them when we met, but he says he's not loyal to the Dark-Elves," the green-eyed girl shrugged and gave a wink of her eye. "But he helped Heimdal," she said perkily.

Once more chocolate colored eyes dilated. They misted over. "Heimdal," she whispered. Her hand reached up to her trembling lip. "Heimdal! Heimdal! Heimdal!" She repeated over and over. "How could we have let this all happen. She grabbed her face.

"Anyway," the little girl said as she tried to pull the woman from her panic. "I'm taking him to my home..."

The dark brown eyes flashed and turned to the girl, "No! You cannot!" She protested. "You don't know who he could be... he could be evil... he could be..." She continued shaking her head.

"I think I can trust him. He said we wouldn't have to eat snails tonight..."

"I like snails," the woman responded.

"Snail soup is better than nothing I suppose," the little girl admitted.

"In some places, it was considered a delicacy, though never here," the woman responded and her shoulders fell.

"But what about real food, wouldn't that be amazing?" The emerald-eyed child licked her lips.

The woman placed her hands on the young child's shoulder. "It was just a lie girl, there's no food here," she stated and grabbed her grumbling stomach.

The young lass looked back at the stranger. Was he really lying? She hadn't taken into account that he could be. People lied and swindled and cheated and fought in Bedlam all the time. Sometimes the child thought that maybe no one could help. Although most people wanted to help each other there were times of so much lean that it seemed that you had to betray another to have anything for yourself. But why would he lie? "No, no," the dark-haired child shook her head. "I don't think he would lie. He's different... he has magic," the child claimed.

"Magic?" The skinny woman in the weathered and worn gray cloak mumbled. "No one has that anymore." She informed the young girl.

"No, please, please...come see, come see," she pulled at the woman's hand trying to tug her in Loki's direction. He was still standing where she had left him.

"No, no, child," the cloaked woman refuted as she pulled her hands away. "I don't want to meet anyone," she shook her head. Her face that was coated with a thick veil of mud was turning white beneath the mask. "NO!" She yelled. It was enough to frighten the child. The little girl immediately let go of her hand and the cloaked woman lost her balance. She fell on her back into the slime on the streets.

Loki heard the scream and went rushing to the child's side to see if she needed help. He jumped in front of her and drew his dagger. "Stand back!" He ordered as he pushed her behind him.

"No!" The little girl yelled back and grabbed at the stranger. "Don't hurt her!"

"She tried to attack you little one," Loki insisted. "To your feet," he declared making sure she saw the tip of his blade.

Trembling hands raised into the air. "Don't hurt me! Don't hurt me! Don't hurt me please!" the cloak figured begged.

"Leave her alone!" The little girl declared as he tiny fists pounded upon Loki's back. Loki turned around and faced the child with a puzzled expression. The fiery spirited raven-haired youngster stuck out her lip and put her hand on her hips. "she's not dangerous...she's a friend," the child expressed.

"Listen to the girl," the woman's sultry voice squeaked up. "Friend...friend...friend...friend," she muttered as she got to her knees with her hands still up in the air.

"She's just a little skittish, that's all," the child breathed while she watched the woman actually rise to her feet. She slowly pushed the hood back away from her face. "she's just..."

"Lady Sif?" Loki's mouth dangled wide open as he saw the once proud warrior of Asgard who had always kept her armor immaculate now clothed In nothing but a shrug of rags and patches.

The woman's dark brown eyes finally rose to meet the man's gaze. She slowly lowered her hands down to her sides. No sooner did she look upon the man though did she let out a bloodcurdling scream. She stumbled backward on her heels.

"Lady Sif, calm down," the little girl stated as she reached out her hands toward the older woman.

"Fr-Fr-Fr-Fr," she stammered as she pointed.

"Sif?" Loki spoke gently as he showed her his palms.

"FROST GIANT!" Sif exclaimed. With horror written on her face. "AHHH! AHHHH! AHHH!" She hollered as she continued to move backward.

"Sif," Loki spoke once more. Sif paid no heed to his words. She just kept shouting furiously. She stooped down and began to gather the sludge from the streets. She started slinging mud at the man made of ice. she threw them at rapid speed. Loki easily dodged each of her attempts to hit him with a mud ball. He shook his head. There was a time when Sif could have hit a bulls-eye with a marble. Sif had always had a deep-seated, primordial prejudice for Jotuns, but that was nothing new. Everyone in Asgard seemed to feel that way. But that had always manifested in hatred and rage, this...this was different...this was...fear.

"Child run! Run! Run!" She shrieked.

"Lady Sif, calm down, it's alright," the little girl tried to explain.

"Stay back! Stay back!" Sif shouted at the Jotun.

"Sif, he's not a Frost Giant. How can he be they are all dead," the young girl.

"No, no, no, no," Sif mumbled with eyes wide and trembling as she looked back and forth between Loki and his child companion. "All...all... The more the reason!" She claimed. "They are supposed to be dead!" She echoed and still pointed to the regally dressed man with icy skin that was several feet in front of her. "They're all supposed to be dead!" She shrieked grabbing her head. "Their planet was blown to kingdom come," she wagged her head viciously. "Y-y-you don't understand...we need to run... RUN!" She declared once more while backing away and shaking her head. She reached out her hand beckoning the young child to follow her, but when she saw that the child clearly wasn't budging Lady Sif turned tail and started to run.

Sif was running away at full speed as fast as her thin bare legs could carry her. When all of a sudden she felt a freeze take over her body. She looked down and her bare feet were stuck in the mud. She kept trying to run. She grunted and groaned and stretched and strained and did all that she could, but she still couldn't move. She even tried to take her hands and yank at her knees to pry herself from the muck, but still, she could not free herself. Loki closed the gap between them and came up behind her. Sif panic only continued. She felt like her heart would explode in her chest. She started sobbing as she found that she could not free herself and she felt a frost breath upon her nape. Finally, Loki reached out and grabbed her. He was careful to place his hands on the thin fabric of her cloak so as not to freeze her. "Let me go, let me go, let me go," Lady Sif blubbered as she struggled in his hands.

"Sif?" Loki shook his hands as he looked into the woman's petrified brown eyes. They were wide with dark black circles around them and bags that went on for days, they seemed to bug out of their sockets from her thin face. They housed so much fear. And in all the years he had known her even when she was a child he had never known her to be anything but fearless. "It's..." His silver-tongue faltered for a minute. "It's me," he said to her firmly.

"Me! Me! Me?" Sif shook her head. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?" She screamed in the Jotun's face. "I never knew any Frost Giants!" She declared. "None that I didn't try to kill anyway," she muttered as she looked down at the ground. She looked back up face aright. "What are you? What are you? Who are you?" She demanded of him as tears filled her deep brown eyes. He didn't answer her right away as he watched the tears fall from her eyes. The dirt and grime were so heavily caked upon her skin that the tears ran down her cheeks in a mudslide. When he didn't answer right away Lady Sif started to shake her head miserably. She bit her lip to keep herself from screaming out as she cried. "WHAT ARE YOU?" The question once more came exploding from her lips. "Some spirit sent from the depths of Helheim to torment me?" She asked as she pounded on her chest. "To mock me?" She continued to bang on her breasts. "To prove to me that all the years I spent training to fight your kind as the greatest of enemies I should have been fighting the Dark-Elves? Why? Why? Why? Why do you torture me so? Haven't I suffered enough?" She asked as she grabbed her straggly brown locks. "Will you haunt me for the rest of my days?" She questioned. "I deserve it. I deserve it," she nodded. "But I cannot bear it," she confessed and she became a blubbering mass.

Loki couldn't take seeing the strongest, bravest woman he had ever known besides his own mother reduced to such a state. He shook her hard. She sobbed all the more as he did. "Sif! It's me! It's me!" The self-proclaimed king of Asgard proclaimed. He had lost his patience with her. "Open your eyes! Don't you have eyes to see?" Yelled at her. Sif finally opened her eyes and looked at him. She saw his frost features. His highbrow and chiseled cheekbone, his nose pointed sharp enough to be an icicle. Scarcely she could recall having seen features so keen before, but that was so long ago. No, it simply couldn't be. She looked again and studied the fine lines and circles so clearly etched in his indigo skin. Clearly, the markings of a Jotun of high birth. His eyes were burning with a red flame that seemed like it would incinerate all, but then when she looked again she saw that there was a true depth there. "It's me..." His crisp tone was pleading. She still stared with disbelief and without recognition. He bowed his head. "IT'S LO..." He started to tell her, but his own name died on his silver tongue. "I'm a friend of Prince Thor's," he finally spoke with a gulp.

Sif pushed away from him. "Impossible!" She shouted back. "We were never friends with any of your kind," she spat. Her eyes once more looked downward. "Though perhaps we should have been. Perhaps. We all had more in common than we'd known...I...I...I it was so long ago...all those old stories so...so long ago," she muttered endlessly to herself and grabbed her face. He rich eyes fearful eyes looked back up at him. "Liar! Imposer Trickster! PHANTOM!" She hollered pointing a finger at him.

"I'm no phantom," Loki informed her. "I am flesh and blood, like you" he tried to explain.

"If you truly are a Frost Giant then you are ice and snow and tar," she shot back. "We never had dealings with your kind," she continued to rant. "One time... one time when we were very young Laufey tried to patch the relations with Asgard up by asking for Prince Thor presence at the wedding of his son...but that went horribly wrong and Thor and Helbindi were never friends," she declared as he lips twisted.

"I'm not a Frost Giant!" Loki snapped angrily. "I'm not Helbindi," Loki declared. "I'm not a Jotun, but I was transformed into this gruesome form and came to Asgard to seek help." He lied.

"No, no...How could you get here? From what realm do you hail? Almost all have been destroyed."

"I was hiding on Alfheim. After I found out that Jotunheim had been destroyed I remained there," the trickster stated easily.

"I can't imagine that the Light Elves would have much welcomed a Jotun," she rubbed under her nose.

"The worlds are on fire...a Jotun doesn't seem so bad in comparison to what the Dark-Elves have done to the Nine Realms," Loki expressed with a shrug.

"Perhaps, perhaps," Sif nodded nervously and rubbed her palms together anxiously.

"And what they have done to you," Loki said in disbelief as he took a step back and took her in. Her tattered cloak was made of mesh material, patches, tweed and straw. She was covered from head to toe in mud when she used to proudly wear the armor of an Einherjar. She wore it always because she was the only woman in Asgard who had the privilege of sporting such regalia. Beneath the cloak, Sif just had on a simple country woman's frock. It looked like at one point it had been pastel in color, but now it was dusty, worn out, dirty, wet and dried by the sun. She looked like she hadn't bathed in months. The little girl who was his tour guide through this ragged village had explained to him that the Dark Elves hosted public baths every so many months. Water was not easily accessible to the people. Loki looked at Sif once again. She had always been an athletic built woman. Tall and muscular in her tone. Although she hadn't had the curvaceous figure that was so prized in Asgard no one could have said that Lady Sif's body was unattractive. Now she was skin and bones. Her legs shook when she walked. Her arms had no definition, no sculpture or strength left to them. Her face was thin as a rail. Her cheekbones stuck out and made her look like a skeleton. There were deep, dark circles around and under her eyes. The bags went on for days. There were wrinkles in her face, but Sif was a young woman, surely not so many years had passed that she had grown so old. Her teeth were nearly rotten. Her dark-brown eyes bulged out of her head, they were bloodshot and yellow all at once. Her hands shook like an elderly woman's hands might if she was trying to thread a needle. Loki continued to study her. He searched for something on her person. Something that the Lady Sif he once knew would have never been without. He even used his powers to see any item that might have been concealed on her person. He was disappointed when he found nothing. She didn't have any weapon on her. Not a sword, a knife, a pair of brass knuckles, a javelin or double blade. Sif had always brandished her double blade. Finally, Loki couldn't stand the sight of her anymore. He took his hands and reached out grabbing her once more. She yelped like a frightened dog and tried to pull and twist away. There was a time when Sif could have bested any man in hand to hand combat. Truly now she didn't seem to have even the strength to pull away from him. "What has happened to you?" He asked as his eyes went wide and he snarled his lip.

Sif was trembling and sobbing as the question rang in her ear. She finally managed to stop her sniveling long enough to look Loki in the eye. He looked at him with a strange familiarity that made her feel vulnerable. She wrapped her cloak closer around her frail bodice. She started to shake her head and scoff. She spread her arms open wide. "The same thing that has happened to everybody," she began. "Ragnarok," she whispered back. "It's the same thing that's happened to you," she pointed to him. "Ragnarok," she breathed once more. "After the last Convergence," she started. She was shaking her head. "Some two hundred odd years ago," she explained. "The Aether was unleashed. It's an Infinity Stone you know. It has the power to change matter morph realities. It turned things that were good for things that were evil. It turned things that were pure into things that were defiled. It turned happiness to sadness and life into death," Sif spat.

"It turned a strong woman into a coward I see," Loki pointed out.

Lady Sif looked at the Frost Giant with horror. Her lip started to tremble. She put her hands on her ears and scream like she had been stabbed. "You don't know me!" Sif yelled. "How dare you say such a thing to me!" She shouted in the streets. "YOU DON'T KNOW ME!" She screamed at the top of her lungs.

Loki grabbed her and put his fingers to his lips, hushing her frantic safe. He spied the curious eyes of the peasants, who had mostly all taken shelter in their hovels for the hour had grown quite late, poking out of their windows. "Yes, I do...I...do...I do know you Lady Sif Tyrdottir of Asgard, shield-maiden, General of the Einherjar, Companion of the Crown Prince..." He stated.

Sif finally managed to free herself from the Jotun's killer claps on her arm. "How do you know these things?" She asked in fear as she looked up at the lanky Jotun before her. Loki pursed his blue lips and started to explain himself. She raised he hand and immediately cut him off. "Just because you know my name doesn't mean you know me!" She warned him and pointed her finger at his chest.

"Oh, but I do," the silver-tongue key started again.

"No, you don't!" She spat back. "You have no idea the things I've seen, the things I been through. I've seen horrors that would keep you awake at night," she told him.

"So have I," Loki shot back.

"When Convergence came I beheld as Malekith and that beast," her eyes went wide for a moment. The creature was mentioned with a shudder. "that he serves unleashed the dark crystal across an unsuspecting universe. I saw the darkness spread and consume everything," she shook her head. The sea became fitful, mountains came toppling down, the great cities were reduced to ash. Vegetation dried up," she went on. "I watched as each of the Nine Realms went dark. The cries and the screams of the innocent rained down from each realm and fell on my ears. For days the voices screamed without ceasing and then all at once there was silence." She raised her hand as she relived that dreadful silence once more. "I'll never forget that silence. That's when I knew that some of the Realms had been completely annihilated." She informed him. "Me and the other Einherjar and warriors of Asgard did our best to try and fight against Malekith and the Dark-Elves, but their forces were too much for us." She looked up at the dark sky and blinked tears back from her eyes. "It's amazing," she muttered more to herself than to Loki. "They were thousands of years dormant, but the technology they possessed was much more than our own," she finished. "They are heartless cowards!" Sif insisted. "They went after civilians and used them as human shields. They knew a warrior of Asgard would never take the life of an innocent citizen. We tried to make bargains and deals trade in soldiers for men and women and children, but they would slaughter the soldiers and citizens alike. The cost was too great. WE, the Einherjar, those who had sworn all allegiance and fidelity to the crown had to watch as the all-father was murdered," she shuddered. "They told us that if we didn't offer any resistance that we would be spared the death of the all-father, but those bastards lied! They murdered our king right before our eyes. They murdered my king, my king, my king," she started to blubber, "and I could do nothing to stop them." She wiped her eyes. "So we made one last stand." She said as she held her head high and put on a stiff-upper-lip. "We decided that if they killed our leader we would kill theirs. The monster was not so easily accessible, but Malekith could be reached. We had planned everything so clandestinely too," she mumbled. She shook her hands and then snapped her fingers. We were going to set fire to the palace and smoke the Dark-Elves out like the miserable roaches that they are," she said in a hushed tone. "We mounted horses and brought torches and built catapults. We attacked with blaze and fury and fire!" She proclaimed with a valiant fist raised in the air. "But it was a trap. Somehow, the Dark-Elves were one step ahead of us. They ambushed and surrounded us. They took us as hostages. They tortured us for months until they had eventually picked us all off one by one," she shook her head. "Finally, that wicked creature who calls himself a king said that we had to be made an example of. He concocted all manner of terrible ways to pick us off one by one. I saw all the Einherjar die," Lady Sif announced as he eyes looked up at him while she clutched her hands to her chest. "Death by firing squad," she went on. "Their bodies were simply evaporated and dissolved into nothingness by the blasters. There was not a trace left," she cried.

Loki gulped. "And Frandal and Hogun and Volstagg?" He asked with a lump in his throat.

"How do you know..." Sif eyes were wide as she gazed up at him. He had a familiar face, but it simply couldn't be. She shook her head dismissing the thoughts. "They all died horrible deaths," she expressed. "Frandal was made to be the consort to some female Dark-Elf. It was a terrible life for him. He got sick with one of their elfin diseases. " she stated in as little detail as possible. "They didn't even afford him the chance to go to the healer," she mashed her lips together. "Hogun was hung," she reported. Just that simple and Loki had a feeling that that's how Hogun would have liked it. He had never been much for many words. "Volstagg was put in the stocks and starved to death." She explained. "I never thought I'd see that man thin and oh how I hated when I did. His wife and children were made to see him get thinner and thinner day by day," she shook her head.

"It was only because of Queen Frigga that I was spared such a grim fate," she told him.

"Queen Frigga!" Loki's eyes went wide. "She still lives?"

Sif grabbed her head. "I don't know. She hasn't been seen in years. She was taken to the palace and never left," Sif stated.

"And you didn't do anything?' Loki let up a pent-up growl.

"I begged Queen Frigga to let the Dark-Elves take me! I deserved the same fate as the rest of my brethren, but she insisted. She gave me strict orders. She told me that she was Queen of Asgard and as long as the Aesir people were alive then she would do what she could to protect them. She ordered me to stand aside and let the Dark-Elves take her. I obeyed my queen's commands, to my everlasting shame," she attested.

"So you've just been hiding like a mouse on the streets, scrimping and scrimmaging and trying to save your own skin while my mo..." Loki was becoming furious. he was starting to yell and fume. He caught himself. His fists were clenched by his sides. "You allowed the queen to be tortured within the palace. Who knows what types of things the elves have done to her!" Loki yelled.

Sif drew back in fear at his apparent temper. "I had no choice!" She shouted back in her own defense. Then she gasped and covered her lips. "Those were the queen's orders to me. I could not disobey her," Sif insisted as she wrung her hands. "I could not... would not. I have never disobeyed a direct order from my queen," Sif reported. "Besides, besides!" She went on. "What can I do now? There's nothing I can do," she slashed her hand to the side. "I'm all that's left! There are no more Einherjar. All the Einherjar in Asgard weren't able to defeat the Dark-Elves, do you honestly think I alone could?" She asked laughing,

"If there was a chance for any single Einherjar to defeat an army then that Einherjar would be you Lady Sif," Loki reported. "You were one of the most fearsome warriors that this realm had ever known," he encouraged her.

"That was eons ago!" Sif retorted as she bit her lip. "And no one soldier can defeat an army," she stated.

"The Sif I knew would have rallied every able-bodied being in this realm to fight on her side," he reminded her.

"You don't know me!" Sif protested once more. "I tried. I TRIED! But I'm tired of fighting!" She said as he shoulders sagged. "There's no fight left within the people of Asgard anymore. They've given up hope. And so have I," Lady Sif explained. "I wish I was dead!" Sif hollered. "I hate seeing all this pain and devastation. I hate seeing what we have become. Nothing. I wish to join my family, the other Einherjar and my friends in Valhalla. I would have taken my own life, but I know that no one who commits suicide enters Valhalla for they chose the path of a coward and quite frankly I don't even know if I believe in Valhalla anymore after the things I have seen," she said as tears washed down her face.

Loki reached his arms out and hugged her. He had not hugged Sif in years. They had always had a bittersweet relationship. But she had been his friend once. And seeing her like this was more than she could take. Lady Sif trembled in his arms. Her heart drummed with in her chest she had never been hugged by a Frost Giant before and she was very worried that is cold skin would give her frostbite, but Loki was careful and meticulous in the way he wrapped his arms around her. He was careful to make sure that their skin didn't meet. Soon Sif stopped resisting the comforting gesture. She leaned into it and allowed her head to rest on his shoulder that was covered by smooth silk. It had been a long time since she had felt such finery on her flesh. Her fingers grabbed at the tunic and she sobbed. She sobbed like a little girl in his arms. Loki had never known Sif to cry. She teased him so often when he cried that he thought that the woman must have been made of steel. But she cried now, on his shoulder. She wept like a baby and protectively his arms tightened around her. She'd suffered much. She'd fallen so far from the woman he'd known all his life. This life had broken her and he knew that it was his doing. He'd broken her and left her as a shell of the warrior woman that she was. "I'm so sorry, Sif," he whispered as he cradled her head.

"You remind me... you remind me so much of a man I knew..." She said as she let a sigh calm her tears. "He was very annoying many times," she said with laughter. Loki huffed. "But he was a great friend."

"What happened to him?" Loki asked curiously.

"The same thing that happens to everybody...he died," she reported and her hands fell from around his back.

"Are you hungry?" Loki asked as he looked at her shriveled form.

Lady Sif licked her lips. "Yes, have you a crumb to spare. Or a piece of garment that I can trade for food at the market on the morrow?" She asked as she looked him up and down.

"Close your eyes and stick out your hands," Loki instructed. Lady Sif was hesitant, but she did as was asked of her. When she opened them again she was carrying a basket of fresh red apples and a whole loaf of bread. "Don't lose hope, good Lady Sif," he instructed her and then he and the little girl walked away. Sif was left gaping as she beheld the gifts. She hadn't seen such fresh food in a long time. She smelled the apples. They smelled like they were from an orchard that she knew well. It was an orchard right outside the city limits. She used to go there as a child. They would go there for the harvest festivals. The maiden's picked the apples, the pressed the apple in the juice and mead and ale, they'd make pies and cakes and play games with the apples. Like bobbing for apples and apple ax, a game where they would use apples as balls and round bases. It was a peasant festival, but she and her friends loved to sneak away and go there. The bread was drizzled with warm honey butter. One of her favorite kinds of bread. Her mouth watered as she smelt the foods. It was simple. It wasn't what she would have ever called a meal, at least not 200 years ago. But now it was a sumptuous banquet. A feast fit for a king and it could last her many days hence. She turned, she wanted to thank he Jotun stranger for his bounteous, gifts but he was already gone. Sif finally, took a bite of the fruit. It tasted divine. Her tongue danced within her mouth. She couldn't remember the last time she'd tasted something so good. The Dark-Elves offered market every few days, but they gave away their garbage for the people of Asgard to feast on. Stale bread, rotten fruit, wilted cabbage, dirty rice. She couldn't imagine how this Jotun could have gotten his hand on good food. "Unless..." she whispered. She blinked her eyes and stared at the man and child who were slowly making there way across the city. She couldn't believe it. It had been too long... more than 250 years. She had seen too much death and loss to truly believe in a miracle now.

"You knew her too," the little girl said as she continued to skip along the broken bricks that made up the city street.

Loki shook his head sorrowfully. "No I didn't know that woman," Loki sighed. "Is it much further to your house child. The hour is very late and I don't think I can bear running into any more people in this city," Loki mumbled.

"Yes, my house is just a few miles away," she waved on.

"Miles?" Loki sighed and huffed as he continued to trudge on.

"Do you need to rest?' The little girl asked as she paused in her earnest walking. "My grandfather doesn't go into town much anymore because he needs to rest a lot," she explained

"I do not need to rest, thank you very much," Loki said quickly as he righted himself. "Also I can assure you that I am probably much younger than your grandfather," he stated. "Let's step lively though... the weather is bad," Loki expressed as the wind picked up and rustled and whipped the skirt of his tunic about.

"It always storms here, every night just about. The crops don't grow well, because the rain is polluted with the Aether," she expressed.

"That explains the limited food," Loki nodded and surmised to himself. He turned to the little girl. The child that bore such a resemblance to a child he once knew. But her eyes. Her eyes were almost a mirror image of his own. "Shall I call you, girl forever?" Loki asked as he tried to make his tone more jovial. "What is your name?" he asked her.

"I thought you would never ask," she turned around to him and beamed a smile at him. "My name is Nyky," the girl said enthusiastically as she stuck out her hand to shake his for a proper introduction.

Loki responded in tow and shook the child's hand. "Nyky, meaning victory?" Loki asked curiously. "It was a powerful name to give a child in such dire times.

The little girl giggled behind her fingers. "No, Nyky is just a nickname, I'm Veronyka," she stated proudly. She then dipped into a perfected curtsy and extended her hand toward him. Loki raised a curious dark eyebrow at the child's gesture. The people of Asgard had become so much like animals. They were simply driven by a need to survive but quite frankly their culture had died. He was surprised to see that such a piece of elegance from the days of the court had survived. He knelt down next to her.

"My lady, Veronyka, it is a pleasure," he told her as he took her tiny dirty hand in his own and brought it to his lips and kissed it. Her eyes went wide at his expression and she batted her big evergreen eyes as they danced.

"The pleasure is all mine, good sir," she expressed as she rose from her curtsy. "Veronyka, it means true image," she expressed.

"So, you are named after somebody," Loki announced.

Veronyka shrugged. "I don't know... I think I was named for someone if there is a difference." she stated.

"There is," Loki informed her.

She waited a moment. She was paused and poised and looking up at him with her big, bright emerald eyes batting up at him. "Soooo," she finally sang after some time of the two of them walking in silence. "What's your name?" She asked him in return as she held his hand and led him to her home.

"Ah-ah" he shook his head and his finger at her in response.

"Come one, I told you my name," she pouted. "No fair, " she grumbled. She snatched her hand from his and folded her arms over her chest.

"A man is entitled to some privacy," he explained to her. as he chuckled.

"Yeah, well my grandfather is going to ask who I brought home. I can't just tell him oh a complete stranger whose name I don't know," she expressed throwing her hands in the man.

"Why not? It's the truth." Loki shrugged his shoulders and then gave the girl a wink.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You're crazy!" The child exclaimed. "I can't tell him that even if it is the truth...if I tell him that then he'll think we are both crazy!" Loki chuckled to himself as he saw her pale face flushing with heat at her exasperation. "You can't always tell the truth about everything you know," she told him. Loki gave the child a quizzical look. His parents, teachers and friends had always valued honesty and stressed for him to be truthful. Quite frankly as a child, he had found honesty to be overrated.

"Do you lie often, child" he inquired.

"What? No...no...I don't lie..." She started. Loki's piercing red eye gave her a stern look. "I don't... I don't" she promised him as she crossed her heart. "I mean I don't lie all the time. I hardly every lie...honest, but everyone lies sometimes. Sometimes you have to lie to protect yourself or other people...but everything I've told you today sir is the truth... I swear!" She said as she grabbed her hands. Her eyes looked teary.

"Calm yourself, little one, I believe you," he assured her and took her by the shoulders and smile. She grinned back with an innocent gap-tooth smile, "And I agree with you," he told her in a whisper as he pursed his lips against his finger. "Sometimes you do have to lie," he told her. "But on the record, you shouldn't lie," he told her and tapped her button nose. "Do you understand?" She giggled and nodded.

"You know if you just told me your name, I wouldn't have to lie at all," she pointed out to him.

"Ah... you are clever, aren't you?" He asked. "But no."

"Oh, come on," she whined. "I know...perhaps you forgot your name!" She concluded. She snapped her fingers. "Did you forget your name, sir?" She questioned. "You seemed to have forgotten a lot of other things," she said laughing and taking deep breaths.

Loki paused. Her smart-mouthed question had made him smirk, but on the inside, he felt a sharp coldness whip through him and strike that ice pump where his heart used to be. Once his name had been Loki Odinson , Prince of Asgard, brother of Thor. Now he had called himself King Loki Laufeyson, King of Asgard, but the destroyer of the house of Odin. Loki hung his head and fiddled with his blue fingers. "Yes, I did," he sighed.

"Are you serious?" Veronyka asked her tone hushed.

"Yes, I am, child," the self-proclaimed king of Asgard confessed. "I...I...I don't really know who I am anymore," he stated his head hung low.

The little girl's face twisted into a frown. She took a step closer to Loki. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, hey...I'm sorry for what I said. I...I...I was only joshing with you," she explained.

Loki looked back up at her. He returned the gesture and placed his hand upon her shoulder in return. "I know..." He gave her a lopsided grin and he watched as her face stretched into an expression that mirrored his own so much so that it made him do a double take. "That is why it is so important that I find a way to get back to where I come from," Loki explained to her.

"I've never heard of anyone leaving this place... If we could I bet we all would leave... well I guess the Dark-Elves can leave because they do go to the other realms and attack them... but I don't know if anyone else can go," she explicated.

"If the Dark-Elves can leave then there must be away out of here and that is what I need to find," Loki said in earnest as he slammed his fist into his palm.

"Well, I'm not sure if you can do that, sir," the little girl paused and scratched her head. "But if anyone knows a way off of this place it would probably be my grandfather. Besides, Master Heimdal I don't think there is anyone wiser," she bragged and puffed out her small chest.

Loki reached his hand down and placed it on the child's thick black hair. "Then it seems we were destined to find each other, Veronyka." Loki winked.

Veronyka was about to respond to Loki, but as they drew closer to her home she started to hear her name being shouted over the wind. "Nyky! Nyky! NYKY!"

Veronyka's green eyes went wide. "It's my grandfather!" She yelped as she looked back at Loki. "Oh no!" Her hands cupped her cheeks. "The hour has grown far too late!" She took off sprinting toward the sound of the elderly man's voice. She ran quickly over the broken bricks and through the muddied, damp streets, she leaped over the toppled pillars that obstructed the crooked road. She pushed pass the weeds and thistles and thorn bushes and briars that were growing wild all around. "Grandfather! Grandfather!" She screamed as she raced to him.

"Veronyka! Veronyka!" He hollered when he heard her little voice over the rumble of thunder in the distance.

"I'm coming, Grandfather!" She shouted and her little legs picked up speed and she came flying through the tall grass straight to him. Finally, they saw each other. The older man picked up the pace and hobbled toward her as quickly as he could. He had only taken a few steps before he felt her little body collide with his. Her skinny, little arms wrapped tightly around his midsection. "Grandfather," she gasped as she hugged.

"Veronyka!" He hugged her tightly with his free arm and then embraced her with the other as he dropped his cane. "Child!" He exclaimed as he pressed a kiss on the top of her head. "Where have you been?" He asked as he took a firm hold of her shoulders and he gave her a slight sake. "Where have you been child?" He asked looking her directly in the eye. "I have been worried sick about you," he expressed as his breath came out in ragged huffs. The old man dropped to his knees. He picked up a small one candled lantern that he had dropped next to him when he ran to greet her. He scooped it up and raised it to her so that he could examine her face. He patted her down and scrutinized her for bumps and bruises, scrapes and scratches. He let out a pent-up sigh of relief when he found her physically unscathed. "Are you alright? Are you hurt at all?" He questioned.

Nyky nodded. "I am alright, Grandfather. I'm alright, really." She explained.

"Nyky, I don't understand what happened to you? Where have you been this whole time? You have never been out this late before. I feared for you. The days are so wicked, so evil... I didn't know what had become of you," he said as his lip started trembling.

The little child took the older man's face firmly in her hands. "I'm so sorry, Grandfather, I didn't mean to worry you. I sorry. I'm ok, I'm ok, really..." She assured him as she looked into his tired purple eyes.

A tear trickled from his left I. He nodded and turned his cheek into her palm so that he could kiss her delicate little hand. "It is alright, sweetheart," he whispered back to her, "It's just... I...I...I you know I lost your mother," he expressed.

"I know... I'm sorry,"

He shook his head. "It nearly destroyed me," he expressed as his light purple irises drifted toward the heavens. He blew a kiss to the clouds. "If I lost you, oh child I don't know what I would do," he stated as he planted kisses all on her face.

"I'm here, Grandfather. We are together," she took his gnarled hands in her young ones.

"Yes, yes, Of course, my sweet, but where have you been?" He questioned.

"I...I...I went to the beach just like I always do Grandfather, honest, I swear," she insisted

"Nyky, you are too young to swear," he replied with a chuckle. "If you tell me that you are being honest than I believe you," he told her.

"When I was on the beach I met someone," she explained turning around and looking over her shoulder to see if her Frost Giant friend was still around.

"Who?" Her grandfather questioned as he followed her gaze

"Well that's just the thing grandfather, I don't know his name... he says he forgot," she sort of giggled as she explained.

"Forgot?"

"He's a little confused..."

"Poor soul, no doubt it is those Dark-Elves," he shook his head.

"He needs a place to stay..."

"Well, I hope you didn't tell him that he could stay with us."

"I did."

"Nyky, no! If he is in trouble with the Dark-Elves all manner of harm could befall us," he explained to her.

"But grandfather, he has food!" She explained excitedly.

"Nyky, that man was tricking you, no one has food," he shook his head.

"He does! I saw him give food to Lady Sif," she told him.

"Really?" The old man asked. Nyky responded by nodding her head. "Is that him there?" The grandfather asked pointing to the willowy figure of a man that stood a few feet away coming out of the tall grasses. Nyky nodded once more and waved to the figure. He returned the gesture. "Tell him to come along. The hour is late and tis not safe to be out." The old man gestured over his shoulder for the stranger to follow as he stooped down and picked up his small lantern.

Veronyka turned around and beamed at Loki who still lingered a few feet in the distance. The night was dark and he could scarcely see her, but he made out her little hand beckoning him forward. Loki sighed in relief and followed suit behind the little girl and her grandfather. The old man walked slowly and child bounced by his side as she clung to his hand. Loki smiled at the image of the pair. The continued to walk pass where tall ragweed grew. There was less paved ground. The fragments of what had once been the Bifrost that ran right through the city was no more. The area that they entered smelt foully. It was a boggy marsh-like area. That was filled with mucky, murky, tar-like waters and swamp gas. There were a few shanty houses spread out across the area. Most were partially buried in the marsh and the rooves were made of mud and grass and straw. Some of the rooves seemed to slide and slosh and slump off into the water. The sides and walls of the house were put together with twigs and sticks and straw and used the slime from the swamp to hold the places together. They looked like holes unfit for even a muskrat to live in. Loki suspected that he had seen beavers who had built better dams than these pitiful dwellings.

Finally, they made their way to a little mud hut that was only slightly bigger than the other tiny hovels in a community around it. They at least had managed to create a slight chimney and a door that was crudely carved out of some wood from the marsh. They entered into the partially subterranean structure and stepped down a few steps. The steps were made of scraps and spare parts that looked like they could have been left over from one of the factories in Asgard. That's when Loki realized that this toxic sludge-land was the old industrial area of the Imperial City. The steps and the floor of the hut were made of an old rubber material. It wasn't much on aesthetics, but it seemed to do the trick of insulating the marsh house from leaks. There was only one large room in the entire hut.

As Loki set foot in the house he watched as Veronyka and her grandfather divested themselves of their cloaks and folded them up and placed them on a tiny chair. There were few furnishing in the hovel. A few chairs, pieces of wood that were balanced on three large stones that seemed to be used as a table. There were also a few lumpy and cracked pots and pans that hung from vines above a small fire pit. There were three or four tiny vases. They were simple clay vessels. They had nothing ornate on them. But the flute like shape was distinctly a Vanir design. Loki cleared his throat before he spoke. "I don't mean to intrude upon you and your family, sir, but I thank you, kindly for your hospitality. I assure you I will leave by first light," Loki expressed.

He heard the elderly man start to cough and then he started to chuckle. "Ah there is no need for that," he stated. His back was turned to the stranger in his home and his face stared at the cold hearth. "These are dark and dangerous times," the elderly man explained. He reached up and hung his small lantern on a low hanging stick that stuck out from the roof in order to give the room a little more illumination. "The Dark-Elves prey upon everyone and everything. It is important that we all help each other in any way that we can. So many people are so desperate now that they forget that at times. But if we don't help one another, who will?" The man expressed as he rubbed his hands together. He then turned to his granddaughter. "Nyky, I went out a found some ragweed that I was able to dry. Let's see if we can use it as kindling for a fire so we can keep our guest warm," he smiled at her and pointed toward the corner. The little girl nodded and scampered off in the direction where her grandfather's finger pointed. His head was bowed when he finally turned around to face Loki. He still rubbed his wrinkled hands together vigorously. "Now, my grandchild mentioned...you had food." He asked as he looked up smiling.

It was then that Loki took in the man's face. His features were handsome enough that it could have been guessed that he might have been a handsome man in his younger years. He had outstanding and rare purple irises, boyish dimples despite his advanced years. His face was full of old lines and wrinkles and even age spots. He had a long gray-beard that was triangle shaped. "Lord Audric?" Loki's lips parted to ask in surprise.

The old man's clouded purple eyes looked at him curiously. His gray brows quirked. He started to cough. "What did you just call me?" He asked

Loki paused, sucked his thin lips in and then pursed his lips again. He huffed and puffed and debated in his mind if he should say the name again. "Lord Audric," he uttered once more.

The wrinkled, crippled looking old man smacked his lips together. He rolled his eyes toward the mud, thatch roof of his tiny hut. His eyes started to mist and he rolled them a few times and then shook his head. "Lord Audric," he shook his head once more. He broke into a slight rusty chuckle, but it soon turned into a dry and raspy cough. "I haven't heard that name in a long time," he uttered as he dropped that hand.

"Lord Audric," he started again and he took a step toward the elderly gentleman.

Lord Audric took a step back. "No one uses formal titles anymore around here," he explained. "No need to now. None of us our nobles or lords or knights of any sort anymore. Look at where we are?" he gestured around. "I surely don't live like a lord," he started chuckling again. "I live like a slave now, but once, once...once I was..." His voice drifted off.

"Once you were the Prime Minister of Vanahiem," Loki spoke up.

Lord Audric blinked his eyes. He watched as Loki's blue hand reached toward him and snatched it back in horror. "You are a Frost Giant!" He called out in astonishment. Loki retracted his hand.

"Yes...I"

"You're all supposed to be dead!"

"Apparently not," Loki shrugged.

"But how?" Lord Audric questioned. "The homeworld of the Jotuns was destroyed!"

"Lord Audric, please," Loki said once again bridging the gap between them and reaching out his hand to clutch the man's cloak. "We can talk about that later, but please tell me how these things came to be!" Loki entreated the elderly man.

"I don't understand. " the old man said as he bristled. "How can a Frost Giant know me by my name? Know who I was?" He asked in confusion as he shook his head. "Who are you?"

Loki stepped closer to the elderly gentleman. The man was lean and tall, but particularly frail in his frame. The Vanir had never been a formidably built as the Aesir were, but they were a healthy race none the less. Despite the determination and fortitude that the old man had tried to show he was shaking before the Frost Giant in his presence. Loki pushed his long, black hair out of his eyes. He revealed his blaring, red eyes and the Vanir man sucked in a frightened gasp. "Don't you recognize me?" He asked desperately.

Lord Audric had always been told that if you stared too long into a Frost Giant's gaze that they would turn you to ice. He quickly looked away. "No, no, I can't say I do," he expressed shaking his head. "But my eyesight isn't what it used to be," he confessed.

"Lord Audric, it's me, Pri-" he let his voice trail off. His words got caught on his tongue. He wasn't Prince Loki of Asgard any longer, was he? Audric dared to raise his eyes and he looked at the Jotun curiously. This Frost Giant certainly seemed less fearsome than the few that he had encountered in his long life. Of course, everyone seemed less fearsome nowadays. No one was as they were. He most certainly wasn't the regal man he had once been. Still, this Frost Giant's teeth weren't sharpened like knives as was one of the customs of many of the Jotun tribes and clans. He was certainly of less stature than any Jotun he had ever encountered. The Jotun's were built like icebergs and towered over many.

"I never knew any Frost Giant named Pri..." Lord Audric stated flatly. "I never knew any Frost Giant by name," he reported. "Besides King Laufey and his eldest son, Helbindi," Lord Audric explained. Loki smacked his lips together and clicked his tongue. He tried to restrain himself from saying the dreadful truth that Helbindi wasn't Laufey's firstborn son.

"I knew your daughter," Loki spoke up.

Veronyka spun around and turned away from her duty tending to making the dry ragweed into kindling for the fire. It had taken much work. It had taken vigorous rubbing and fanning and stoking, but finally, she had managed to get just the tiniest spark to be lit on the small cluster of weeds and grassroots that they had in their fireplace. "You knew my mother?" The little girl called out with her large emerald eyes twinkling with wide wonder.

Loki turned to her his mouth hanging open. He could feel his heart start to race wildly in his chest upon hearing the child's earnest question. His heartbeat drummed against his ears. The blood started to course like lava through his veins. He felt as if he would turn into a puddle of water and his icy fleshy would melt right then and there. "Hush Veronyka!" Her grandfather scolded. The little girl let out a yelp. Her grandfather's voice was hardly ever that stern. She dropped her great, big green eyes and continued to picking and the kindling. "This Frost Giant is obviously lying. Or completely delirious. MY daughter never associated with any such persons," he huffed and snorted. He took a step closer to the lean Jotun with the chiseled and handsome featured.

"Your daughter's name is Dagmar," Loki announced his breath came out in a gasp. The young child's ears perked once more toward the conversation that the two men were having, but she dare not turn back around lest she upset her grandfather again.

"Just because you know our names doesn't mean you know us," Lord Audric snarled. "You don't even know your own name, my granddaughter tells me," he shot back. "I don't know how you got that information, but anyone could have told you that," Lord Audric said dismissively as he threw up his hands in the air. He continued to walk closer toward Loki. Finally, his thin, wrinkle, pale finger was pointed directly at Loki's chest. "I have offered you hospitality, Frost Giant," the white-haired man stated. "But I will feel no remorse in excluding you from my home if you continued to spout these ridiculous notions in front of my granddaughter." He growled through gritted teeth. He stood on his tip-toes to try and reach the Frost Giant's height.

"I was not always a Frost Giant," Loki countered.

"I don't care what you think you were in a past life..." Lord Audric began.

"No, not a past life... although it does seem like a completely different lifetime," Loki acknowledged, "it was this life I can assure you of that. I was living in Alfheim and I was transformed into this creature, by an evil enchanter," Loki fibbed easily. The once Prime Minister of Asgard quirked his head to the side and studied the Frost Giant's features for any signs of duplicity. But lying came so easily and so naturally to the self-proclaimed king of Asgard that there were precious few who had been able to read beyond his deceptions. Lord Audric's expression eased. He took a deep breath and Loki noticing that the Vanir man was started to relax and accept his story simply continued to allow his silver tongue to weave a more elaborate fabrication. "But being as it seems almost all enchanters have been eradicated from the Nine Realms it seems I am doomed to remain a beast for all times," Loki said regrettably as he grabbed his face.

"Hmmm," Lord Audric nodded as he took King Loki's story in. "So many are dead," Lord Audric stated. "My daughter included. She was a fine enchantress, but now she too is no more," the gray-bearded Aesir man sighed. "Perhaps your form isn't as much of a curse as you may think it to be," Lord Audric explained as he dared to place his hand on Loki's shoulder.

"How can you say that? I am a monster, now," Loki asked in repulsion.

"I had been taught to live in hate and fear of the Frost Giants almost all my life as many in the Nine Realms were. Now I see that I let the past prevent us from having a future with those creatures. No one wanted to acknowledge how the Frost Giants had lived peacefully amongst the Nine Realms for 1000s of years," Lord Audric explained.

"The Jotun's had no means to attack. They were stripped of the source of their power. Their precious Casket of 1000 Winters was hidden in Odin's weapons vault. And eventually, they tried to break into the weapons vault to steal it back," Loki corrected the old man.

"Perhaps, but they could have tried to take even more. They only came to collect what was rightfully their's after many centuries of not having it," Lord Audric defended.

"Who is to say that they wouldn't have attempted to take even more had the destroyer not been unleashed and killed those that did attempt to break into the weapons vault," Loki countered.

Lord Audric chuckled slightly to himself. "All that seems like a childish prank to me now, in comparison to what the Dark-Elves have done to this land," Lord Audric announced. "All this time we had all been so concerned with keeping the Frost Giants at bay and making sure that they couldn't rise again," Lord Audric began as he made his voice deeper. "All the while we should have been worrying about the Dark-Elves," Lord Audric said as he ground his fist into his palm.

"It's no one's fault Lord Audric," Loki reminded the old man who once had one of the most powerful positions in the state. "No one knew that the Dark-Elves were still alive," Loki explained.

"Well, we should have known!" Lord Audric declared as he glared at Loki. "My daughter died at Malekith's hands!" He whispered angrily through gritted teeth so that his granddaughter didn't hear.

"I know..." Loki said gulping.

"You know nothing!" The gray-haired man shot back. "You know nothing of what I suffered knowing that my daughter is gone," he began as he grabbed at his chest. He started to choke and then he sniffled. He bit his lip to keep from going on more and more about how his daughter was gone. "At least the Jotun's had a sense of honor," Lord Audric stated.

"Honor?" Loki gasped. "How can you say that those cold-blooded cannibals had any honor?" He questioned.

"They obeyed the treaty they signed, didn't they? They kept the peace for many centuries, they even tried to build relationships with other realms by trying to exchange brides and make marriages. Prince Thor even said how when he and his friends invaded Jotunheim after he crashed the ceremony for his coronation, Laufey tried to let him and his companions leave with their lives intact. It was he who retaliated and initiated the battle," Lord Audric explained.

Loki nodded recalling the day and the events that changed the course of his life forever. If it wasn't for that ill-fated day in Jotunheim then he would have never found out about his true heritage. Odin and Frigga had never had any intention to tell him. If Thor would have never attacked Laufey's guards then they would have never gotten into the battle and had that Frost Giant grab his arm and show him what he truly was. He would have never had the opportunity to act as king of Asgard had Thor not been banished and had Thor not acted so recklessly, Odin would have never been so distraught enough to have banished him. If Thor had never been banished then he wouldn't have gone to Earth and they wouldn't have fought on the Bifrost all those years ago. He wouldn't have fallen off of the bridge and tumbled into the Void. He would have never encountered Thanos or been shown the true power of the Tesseract. He would have never tried to take over Midgard and been thwarted by "The Avengers". He wouldn't have been taken back to Asgard in chains like some animal. He wouldn't have been caged like a beast and tortured by the hands that had once held him as a child. He wouldn't have been stripped of his powers and left a blind recluse left to wallow and grind in a cell like some miserable wretch. He wouldn't have been so desperate to do anything to get his powers back and his sight and he wouldn't have been willing to make a deal with the devil, Malekith to bring about Ragnarok by unleashing the Aether. Loki's mind raced and reeled and finally, it felt like it would explode as all those realizations settled upon his brain at once. He had blamed himself for all this, but truly it was Thor's fault! Ha! It was Thor. Odin's proud and strapping boy was the one who was responsible for all this calamity. And not him at all.

Loki shook his head and drew his mind back toward the conversation that he had been having. "Perhaps the Jotuns aren't as bad as a whole as the Dark-Elves, but they are far from saints or angels. Did you know they had a practice of sacrificing their own offspring?' Loki question. Lord Audric started to part his lips, but Loki cut him off, "They are barbaric!" He spat. "Laufey left his own firstborn son to be sacrificed on the altar at the Ice Temple to win the war against Asgard," He stated.

"I...I...I've never heard of such a thing and I was with a battalion that fought against Laufey himself," Lord Audric confessed as he shook his head.

"Well, it is true." Loki snorted. "All fact and no fable to it," Loki swore with a growl as he cracked his knuckles.

"How do you know these things?" Lord Audric asked in astonishment.

"My father told me," Loki responded quickly. "He fought in the war against the Jotuns as well. He said he was there and watched King Laufey sacrifice his own son and pray to the gods of ice and snow for the strength from mountains wot win the war," Loki told the elderly ex-Prime Minister of the Vanir. He pointed a declarative blue finger in Lord Audric's face.

"And Malekith!" Lord Audric's voice rose beyond a whisper. "He killed his own king and sacrificed all of his people in order to win the war against Asgard," Lord Audric returned the gesture at the Frost Giant before him.

"Hey," Veronyka called out. She was huddled by the hearth where she had started a small fire. She rubbed her tiny hands together and wiggled her dirty, little toes near the fire. "I started a fire," she boasted and smiled at them. She pointed to her accomplishment. Her grandfather clapped for her and applauded her efforts. Loki gave the little girl and approving nod which only made her grin all the more. She didn't like to hear the two men arguing so. Arguing often made her grandfather break into coughing spells. He was all she had in the world and she couldn't think about him being sick. And the stranger. Well, she didn't know why, but she had taken quite a liking to this stranger. She didn't want to see the fight. "Grandfather, I'm hungry," she reminded as she rubbed her growling tummy and licked her lips. She then turned to the Frost Giant, "you said you would give us food. Do you really have food or not?" She demanded of him.

Her grandfather hobbled over to her. He stroked the little girl's dirty, dark man. "Nyky, hush, hush now child, do not panic. I will get you something to eat. I may be able to find some bean mush," he expressed as he reached into one of the pots by the fire and pulled a lid off of it.

"I have food," Loki expressed to them he put his hands up. "Just, close your eyes, I will bring it to you," he offered.

Little Veronyka immediately squeezed her eyes shut. Her cute little face became pinched as a vision of a fresh red apple like the one he had given to Lady Sif danced in her head. Her mouth watered. She had only had a piece of a fresh fruit a few times in her life. "Close our eyes!" Lord Audric balked. "What manner of trickery is this? Are you trying to deceive us? Sneak away after having being warmed and protected and not make good on your word to a child and an old man?" He grandfather accused.

"I can assure you, sir, I have every intention of making good on what I promised your granddaughter," the trickster swore.

Veronyka's bright emerald eye popped back open. She reached up her hand and grabbed her grandfather's hand as well. "Come on, Grandfather, just do it," she entreated him. The older man hesitated, but after seeing the little girl's gentle smile he could not deny her request. Slowly, pale eyelids slid closed over purple irises. When he opened them again he was amazed at what he beheld. There, upon his small makeshift table sat a most sumptuous banquet. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen such bounty. There were plates and trays filled with a wide assortment and variety of foods. There were thinly sliced cuts of fine meats such as roasted pheasant and broiled boar. There was a proper plate of smoked herring and pickled salmon. There were freshly baked and buttered rolls made of rye and barely and pumpernickel. There were rice and turnips and squash potatoes salted and smothered in rich gravy. There were cheeses. So many marvelous cheeses. They were all cut into dainty and polite cubes. There was Gouda and Swiss and brie and soft cheese. Lord Audric's wide eyes continued to scan the table and they fell upon a basket of fresh fruit. It overflowed with grapes and pears and figs and dates that were bathed in honey. There were even pomegranates. It was all the foods that he had loved to dine on in Anaheim.

"Nyky, open your eyes child, open your eyes," he chanted to her and he shook her by the shoulder.

She pulled her muddy, grubby fingers away from her eyes and her mouth was agape with wonder. "Wow," was all she could manage for a moment. "Is...is...Is all this for us?" She asked. She had never seen so much rich and wonderful looking food in all of her life. She looked up at her grandfather and then at her new found friend.

"I believe so," her grandfather answered. He too cast a timid gaze at the Frost Giant in their midst. Loki, for his part just nodded. Her watched an elated expression come over the two people who were much too lean for healthy standards. Both grandfather and granddaughter stared at each other and the broad smiles that rippled across their wane faces housed nothing but jubilation. "Go on child, go on," Lord Audric spoke as he pushed the child to be first part-taker in the meal. He didn't have to tell Veronyka twice. She jumped up and down merrily. Her feet danced and her hungry belly started to sing and the prospect of finally being full. She rushed toward her grandfather and gave him a hug in her elation. Then she ran over to Loki and wrapped her arms around his torso and squeezed him tightly.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She exclaimed. She then rushed back to the table and picked through all the food. She filled a plate high with as much as she could manage.

"Good sir," Lord Audric started. He was still in a bewilderment by the bounty that was before him. "Where did you get all this?" He asked. Loki remained tight-lipped. "Did you steal it from the palace?" He asked nervously.

"Sir, I can most certainly guarantee you that I did not," Loki crossed his chest. Lord Audric was certainly skeptical of what the Frost Giant said, but he was so hungry that he only had a minimal amount of care. The price was very steep for stealing from the palace. Men and women who had merely taken a loaf of bread had lost hands and feet. Surely, stealing this much food could result in death. But that was only if they were caught and Lord Audric had no intent for them to be caught for he intended for them to eat it all this night. He eagerly rubbed his hands together and then followed suit along with his grandchild and dug into the grand feast that they had before them. Loki too partook of the food he had created. They ate and ate and ate for what seemed like hours. They talked and laughed and fellowshipped well as they dined. Loki hadn't shared so merry a meal with anyone in a long time.

Eventually, young Veronyka stuffed herself into a food coma. Her little stomach was distended by the time she had finished eating and she was terribly drowsy from having a full stomach. She had guzzled down a large glass full of warm goats milk. She had never had milk before, but it was so good. It was smooth and rich, and creamy and a slight bit sweet. She loved it and lapped up every drop. She loved everything that she ate, the fruits and vegetables that were crisp and ripe, she loved the hearty meats. Each one was so decadent. She loved the bread. She had had bread before, but it was always stale and hard and crusty on the verge of molding sometimes, but this bread that Loki had given to them was succulent and divine. She ate until he belly had very nearly burst and she would have eaten some more, but after she took a brief rest from her vigorous chewing and laid her head upon her grandfather's shoulder she drifted off to dreamland.

Her grandfather cradled her head gently and stroked her raven locks. He struggled to pick the child up and take her to her sleeping quarter. Veronyka scarcely stirred as he tried to move her. "Nyky, Nyky, my dear you must stand, rise and go to your sleeping mat, come child please, you know I cannot carry you," he sighed. The old man felt awful that he was unable to even lift the child, but his body was weak.

"Please, Lord Audric, allow me," Loki offered as he stood up and walked over to little Veronyka. He couldn't help, but smile as he saw the child's slumbering form. Slowly, his cobalt blue hands scooped down to pick her up.

Lord Audric nearly panicked as he observed that Loki's Frost Giant Flesh was about to come in contact with the child's gentle white skin. "Please be careful!" He yelped. But he watched as Loki's blue palms scarcely grazed the little girl's arm. He noted that the child let out a little shiver, but her skin did not turn. He then watched as Loki cradled her protectively against his chest and carried her gingerly to the corner where a pile of rags and scraps of cloth had been collected for the child to sleep upon and call a bed. Loki frowned as he laid her down. He covered her with the rags and mesh that were around. She snuggled down deep under the tattered pieces of felt and fabric. His fingers skimmed through her dirty, but nevertheless silky tresses. He allowed his finger to brush the side of her soft cheek as well and truth be told he wished to bestow a kiss upon that cheek, but he refrained as he felt the watchful eye of the grandfather on him.

Loki turned around and walked back toward Lord Audric. he took a seat once more near the table. "She is Dagmar's daughter?" He asked with his red eyes shining.

"Yes, she'd Dagmar's only child." He nodded.

"Who is the child's father?" Loki inquired seriously as he leaned on his knees and into the older man's face.

"My daughter was briefly engaged to a man named Olaf Dirkson. He was of a noble house of the Vanir. The child is his," He stated.

"You are sure of this?" Loki pressed.

Lord Audric bristled. "What concern is it of yours, especially all these years later?' He questioned. Loki put his hands up, shrugged and dropped the suggest and continued to finish off the glass of clean and clear water that he had furnished them with. Lord Audric nibbled a few of the sweet grapes that were on the table. "These taste just like the ones that used to grow from my own vineyard," he expressed as he twirled the grapes between his finger.

"Your grapes were exported and pressed by many into some of the finest wines in all the Nine Realms," Frost Giant went on.

"Yes," Lord Audric echoed slowly. "Vanir wine had always been coveted and prized throughout the Nine Realms. "But it is a strange occurrence that you would have knowledge of such things," Lord Audric remarked. "You say you are Elfish, by birth?" He inquired. Loki nodded. "Are you of a noble house of birth?" Lord Audric inquired. "In what circles were you in that you should know my daughter and so much about our family?" He continued to question.

"I was good friends with Prince Avery at one point, sir," Loki stated. "I attended many of the same parties that your daughter attended. We studied together during her time at university."

"And what of your house?" Lord Audric inquired further. To this Loki gave no immediate reply, his eyes were cast downward. "Hmm," Lord Audric hummed curiously. "I do not believe you know so much of me and of everything that was my life and know nothing of your own," Lord Audric informed him.

"I..." Loki began.

Lord Audric placed his old hand in the air and made the king silent for but a moment. "But if you don't wish to tell me I accept that," the once nobleman stated. "A man's past is his own business I suppose," he shrugged and his hand reached out to grab cheese and bread. "And the less I know of you the better in case there is any questioning that we shall face later," Lord Audric started to chuckle. "You have shown us great graciousness and for that, I am ever grateful. I have not had such food in...in...in ages," he expressed rolling his eyes as they misted. "My granddaughter has never known such a luxury as a full belly," he inclined his head toward the tiny child sleeping on a pile of rag. "I hope she does not grow sick, but I had not the heart to stop her for I doubt she will ever experience this again," he explained. "You are a mage of great strength I see," He gestured his hand toward the blue-skinned creature. "Why do you not change yourself back?" He asked.

"If I could I would, but curses don't often work that way," Loki responded flatly.

"I wish my daughter were still alive," Lord Audric said as he shook his head. "She was a skilled enchantress. She studied with some of the best mystics in the Nine Realms. Even one of the prince's of Asgard," he informed Loki as he took a stick and poked at the fireplace. "Her preferred skill was healing, but she learned much of magic, despite my protests. I did not think it was safe or necessary, but I let her study because it meant so much to her and I thought to use it for political advancement," he chuckled bitterly and shook his head. "Now...I...I wish I had allowed her to learn more... perhaps she wouldn't have fallen prey to those fiends," he growled and clenched his fists.

Loki dropped his head. "She learned much," he assured the old man.

"Not enough," Lord Audric countered and wiped under his nose. He shook his head. "But you aren't here to hear of my grief are you now, sir? I can assure you that you will find no enchanters to help you here in Bedlam, it seems as though you have wasted a trip in coming here," he expressed.

Loki inhaled sharply. "I can see that now. Now, I a simply trying to find a way off of this God-forsaken place," Loki informed him.

"There is no escaping Bedlam," he laughed and then broke out into fitful laughter, "and there is nowhere in the cosmos that is safe from the ravaging effects of what the Aether has done. Ragnarok has already fallen and all hope is lost. You can not tell me that Alfheim fairs any better," Lord Audric stated.

"Perhaps not...but I need to get back to where I came from," Loki insisted as he rose to his feet.

"I don't know what to tell you, sir, there is no way off of this realm," he shrugged. "The Bifrost is destroyed and Lord Heimdal is weak," the ex-prime minister of Asgard elaborated.

"I have spoken to Heimdal," Loki stated. "He has told me how the Dark-Elves go and collect the people of the other realms to enslave them, that most certainly must mean that they have found a secret pathway off world and they have a vessel that can travel through it..."

"I know not of such things, sir, I can assure you of that. But if the things you say be true then you would have to the palace to procure a vehicle." Lord Audric expressed.

"Then that is what I shall do," Loki declared and started to turn on his heel to leave.

"Wait!" Lord Audric called out. His voice caused Veronyka to stir. He brought his finger to his lips to quiet himself. He rose to his feet and picked up his little wooden cane and hobbled toward Loki. He put his hand on Loki's shoulder. "Come, stay til first light," he insisted and gesture back toward the one room within his tiny hovel. It was only then that Loki realized how tired he had truly become. He agreed to stay the night. Lord Audric worked quickly and gathered the rags and from his sleeping area and moved them to another corner of the room closer to the fire. "You may rest here tonight," the old man explained as he patted the rags and felts and pelts and laid them out as neatly as he could.

"Lord Audric, please, I cannot take your bed," Loki said.

"It is hardly a bed," he said sorrowfully. "And I am no lord," he gestured to his patchy, filthy clothing. "I am no more than a swamp cleaner," he expressed. "But I remember the ways of my people. And the Vanir were always known for their hospitality," he gave a watery smile. "It is a manner of honor and family pride that I give up my bed for you, sir." Lord Audric straightened himself up. "You showed us great kindness and if you were truly a friend of my daughter's then I know it is what she would have wanted," He insisted.

"For Dagmar's sake then," Loki agreed as he thanked the elderly man. Lord Audric continued to clean up the remaining food. He did his best to find pots and pans and vases and rags to wrap the food in. Loki listened to the sounds of the old man cleaning as he drifted off to sleep.

*When first light came, Loki woke. He yawned and stretched and proceeded to make his way out of the tiny hut in the swamp and travel back toward the main part of the city to get to the palace. He was careful to move the rags back to wear Lord Audric was sleeping on a cold and damp floor. He made sure to cover up the shivering old man with the bits of fabric from his shoulders to his toes. He could only have imagined how much it would have pained Dagmar to see that her father was reduced to living like the lowliest pauper. Loki moved soundlessly across the floor. He gathered a few of the honey buttered rolls and took them as his breakfast. He then turned his glance toward the young child sleeping in the corner. She was still nestled snugly under the rags that she had to use for blankets. Her eyes popped open and she stared up at the Frost Giant. "Are you leaving?" She asked in a squeaky, sleepy voice.

Loki turned to her with a gentle smile on his face. He slowly walked toward the child. "Yes, child, I have to," he insisted as he moved to her side and stooped down before her. "Go back to sleep," he instructed her.

She let out a sleepy yawn and rubbed her tired jade eyes. "Thank you for the food," she beamed up at him. "It was amazing! I've never had so much to eat in all my life!" She exclaimed.

Tentatively, Loki reached out his hand and touched the child's raven locked head. "You are very welcome, Veronyka," he said with a wink. "There was a time when people here ate like that all the time," he told her.

She continued to yawn. "That must have been a long time ago,"

"Perhaps, but perhaps that time is coming back around," he informed her.

"Did you really know my mother?" She inquired.

"Yes," Loki stated as he swallowed deeply.

"Can you tell me something about her?" The little emerald eyed girl asked. "My grandfather doesn't like to speak about her much," she looked down.

Loki's thin blue lips curled into a smile, "She was a dream," he said as he took a deep breath. "She was extremely smart. She loved to read. She had a great laugh, she could always make me laugh, and I was very sullen growing up," Loki informed the child. "She and I studied magic together," Loki explained

"My mother knew magic like you?" The little girl's eyes lit up.

"Yes, she was very powerful, but she was a healer, that was her biggest talent. She was extremely compassionate and she would go throughout the realms to heal," he explained. "She loved to dance and sing, she had a beautiful voice like a silver bell and she could play several instruments..."Loki elaborated.

"What did she look like?" The child pressed.

"She was beautiful," Loki explained. "He name was Dagmar and that means glorious," he told her. "And that's exactly what she was... she was glorious to behold. She had alabaster skin and long dark hair, full red lips, she loved to wear jewelry..." Loki voice drew quiet. "You look so much like her..."

The little girl quirked her features and tilted her head to the side as she studied Loki's feature. "You loved her?"

Loki gasped. How could a child read him so plainly? His blue cheek turned purple as he blushed. He dropped his gaze. "Yes," he whispered. "There isn't any more time now to talk little one, please go to sleep," he pleaded with her.

"Just one more question," she insisted.

"1 more," Loki held up his finger.

"Did you know my father?" She asked.

"No," Loki answered all too quickly.

"Oh," the little girl uttered slightly crestfallen.

"I'm sorry," Loki offered. He stroked the child's cheek. "Be a good girl for your grandfather, get some more sleep," he stated as he stood up tall.

"I hope that he was something like you," she whispered to the back of the man's head as she rested her head on the rags once more and drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.

A/N: Well readers you made it! Give yourselves a round of applause. I know that was a long and somewhat painful chapter, but I had hoped in many ways that it would echo the tone of Infinity Wars. I had hoped that everything that wanted to put into that sequence I would be able to fit into one chapter, but alas it has become a 2 parter, just like Infinity Wars lol. But I can promise you that we are getting very close to the end of this tale. I truly plan on writing no more than another 3 or 4 chapters. Anyway, we are so close to the end that you deserve to leave a review and let me know what you think. If you liked it, disliked or just want to talk about the painful deaths that we experienced in infinity wars leave me a review and I will get back to you. ;)