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?

54. Armed and Dangerous

A/N: HEEEEEELLLLLLLLOOOOOOO READERS! OMG hello, my friends it has been so long since I have written and I apologize so much for that. Life gets busy and sometimes I am unable to write as much as I would like. So sad but true. But I receive each of favorites, follows and reviews I cherish it. They mean so much to me. They always inspire me to keep writing and make sure that I conclude this story. I can't even remember the last time I updated, but I hope you all had the happiest of holidays and I hope that you all have had wonderful experiences in the new year! This chapter was very difficult to write. So much preparation leading up to our epic conclusion, naturally it has been a very long journey for you, me and the characters and I did not want to shart change any of us so my writing got bogged down with a lot of details. I won't bore you with a lot of explanations. I thank you for your patience and constant interest and belief in this story. As always happy reads and writes and God bless you! Without further ado:

Chapter 54

Healer Onrac's expression was worried and pained. The lines in his bronzed face contorted. His features were all pinched up. He winced and sweat tumbled down his bald head. He ran his sweaty palms over his bloodied tunics and smeared the red liquid. Queen Frigga looked at him and wondered what could have happened to her husband. When she had left Odin's side he hadn't been bleeding. His condition had been terrible, but he wasn't bleeding. Part of her wanted to know. She wanted to know every single, solitary detail that pertained to her husband's life. But another part of her didn't want to know. No, she didn't want to know the truth. Not yet, not until this terrible, dreadful day was done. Then if the worst was to come at least she'd know that they'd be together soon enough. "Your Majesty, I can't" he groaned. "I can't do that, my queen," he expressed.

"It's an order, Onrac, not a request," she warned him. Her voice was stern. Her beautiful blue eyes narrowed in his direction. She wagged her finger at him like a schoolmarm. "I won't repeat myself a million times," the all-mother stated. She held her head high and tried to appear as royal and dignified as she could under the circumstances. She felt like she was talking to Thor and Loki when they wouldn't clean up their toys in their playroom. Onrac was far too old to be one of her children. Truth be told, he was about her age, but she supposed by taking on the role of the queen had aged her. One time her oldest sister called her sagely. She supposed that the title of all-mother made every citizen of Asgard, even those older than her, were like her own children in some way. She was supposed to protect, look out for their wellbeing, take care of their needs, be a role model to them at all times.

In so many aspects she felt like a failure as a mother. All of a sudden it was a crushing blow that kept beating her on the head over and over. Seeing what Loki had become, how twisted and gnarled and vengeful he really was. This savage blood lust that he'd developed all of a sudden. Was it really all of a sudden, though? Or had it always been there lurking somewhere deep underneath just waiting for the moment when it could rear its' hideous head? She was his mother, she spent so much time with him. She should have seen...surely...she would have seen if there was a monster at her door. Loki was a liar, a deceiver, a trickster, but he wasn't evil...not always...was he? Was he? He had just been a mischievous little boy, a secretive young man, but her son wasn't a madman, he wasn't a heartless fiend. He wasn't a usurper and a traitor and a murder. She would have seen that. She would have seen it long ago, wouldn't she have? She had always prided herself on the fact that Loki may have been able to fool everyone in the world, but he could never fool her. Not when it really counted. She was sure that over the centuries there were a few times he'd gotten away with things, she told herself that those were the times she'd chosen to turn a blind eye or that she truly had just not known anything about it. Like Loki letting the Frost Giants into Asgard. But she would have seen, she would have seen signs of all this evil lying beneath the surface had it been there. She just knew she would have seen it. Wouldn't she have? Honestly, Frigga didn't know which was worst thinking it was there the whole time and she'd just been another person that Loki had charmed with his serpentine smile and enchanting green eyes or thinking that the madness had just developed out of nowhere, overnight like a virus.

And Thor, dear Thor, he beloved Thor what of him? He was the only child of her body that she'd ever managed to carry to full term for Odin. She'd carried him in her womb and every day promised that she would do everything to keep him safe. Even if that meant being bedridden and having to eat a special diet and sit through stranger healing sessions and eat bitter herbs and drink 26 tonics a day. She did it for him. She had suckled him and cared for him as much as she could without any help of a wet-nurse. It was her vow to him to be there for him and protect him with her very life. She would have given up her life. She would have given up her kingdom if she thought that it meant keeping her oldest son safe. She would have done the same for Loki, too, naturally, but Loki was different his inclinations were less hazardous, but Thor was always rushing off into the fray. She'd designed special armors for him that were not easy to penetrate. She'd packed remedies for him special herbs and tonics, the most advanced of healing crystals. She'd made sure on his military conquests that the best healers from the palace went as accompanying physicians. She prayed for him to return safely from battle. Now the thought of her son being hold up in some subterranean cell in their own home, being tortured by the most heinous of creatures without even any mercy or pity from his own brother and her being so far away able to do nothing. The knowledge that he was so far away from needing her, maybe bleeding beat with-in an inch of his life with broken bones possibly calling for her and she could hear him, she couldn't help him, she couldn't even hold his hand or wipe his brow, whisper I love you one last time. She felt like a failure. She felt like she'd broken every promise she ever made to the sweet and beautiful blonde baby that they'd placed in her arms oh so many centuries ago. It didn't sit well with her. She'd not let her son go. She'd not let him die...not without a fight. She'd be damned before she let him go without a fight.

Either way, she felt like a failure as a mother. She'd not fail the rest of Asgard. "I won't repeat myself a million times, you hear...I won't! I won't!" Frigga declared as she clapped her hands. Her voice was quivering and her eyes were watering. She tried to wipe away the tears as swiftly as they came, but the way Onrac was looking at her with warm brown eyes that were just as full of tears as hers she knew she must have been doing a very poor job of concealing just how alarming everything was becoming. "I'm still queen! I'm still Queen of Asgard, am I not?' she turned her question to her trusted royal physician.

"Of course, my lady," Onrac agreed.

"And I am to be obeyed, am I not?" she questioned him and looked him dead in the eye.

The master healer could not bring himself to meet her gaze, but for so long, "Yes, Your Majesty," he offered humbly with a sigh. "Majesty, I must communicate with you this news about the king. This is most important news about the king, my queen you must listen!" he pressed once more he reached out his hands to try to grab her.

"NO!" Frigga shouted back at him once again. "I'll not have you tell me that now!" she waved her hand dismissively. She turned sharply away from Onrac and clutched herself. She held herself tight. Her whole body was shaking and she was sure that Onrac would have heard her bones rattling against each other if she did not do her best to hold them in place. Her chest started to feel tight, her stomach felt like it could drop to the floor. The thought of the news made her blood run cold.

"Queen Frigga," Onrac tried to collect himself. He approached her slowly. "He is your husband, you must know..."

"I don't want to know," Frigga mumbled low in her throat while she still hugged herself.

"How can you say that?" Onrac questioned. This time his lips twisted and tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

"Because!" Queen Frigga practically shouted. Her voice bounced off the walls and filled her own ears. She steadied herself. She took a few deep breaths. She wiped her eyes with a shaky hand. "Because," she started again, but her voice wasn't so strong merely a solid whisper. "It changes nothing..." Frigga swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat.

Onrac shook his head. "Come, my lady, how can you say that?"
"Dawn is coming. It approaches swiftly, No matter what Odin's condition, dawn is still coming. The good people of Asgard are still alive, they still deserve a chance to survive. All the people of the Nine Realms, so who are living their lives in bliss and innocence...they still deserve a chance to survive..." she said with her eyes closed.

"But...but the king...he is your husband..."

"And I love him...oh how I love him," Queen Frigga sighed. She wrapped her arms even tighter around her bodice and swayed. She swayed as she pretended for but a moment that her arms were the king's arms and he was holding her secure and safe in an embrace of the eternal love they shared. She smiled because she could feel his touch, she could practically feel the softness of his beard brushing on her cheeks and chin, tickling her making her want to giggle like a schoolgirl. She could smell his favorite cologne, strong and rich and regal. It lingered in the air. She wondered if they'd ever embrace again on this side of Yggdrasil. There were many thoughts, many fears, but they mattered not now.

"You should be by his side," Onrac urged once more. "Tis your duty," Onrac said more forcefully. His blood-stained fist hit his palm. He immediately looked up, eyes wide. He met Frigga's eyes. He expected them to be an inferno.

Queen Frigga held his gaze. She breathed deeply through her nose, chest rising and falling with regal grace. Her lips quivered. She inhaled and exhaled again before biting her unpainted lip. She raised her finger toward him. "Don't tell me my duty," her tone was even, nearly quiet. Onrac dropped his gaze, he bowed his head. He started to shake it terribly.

"Forgive me, my lady,' Onrac blubbered. He was about to drop to his knees, kiss her hand and ring and feet and grovel. He was breathless. Somehow she caught him mid bow, she caught him right under the armpits and kept him upright. His chocolate eyes gazed unexpected into her ocean blue one. She even smiled as she cupped his cheek gently. She nodded knowingly. They were all nervous, on edge, confused and frightened. Everything was about to be laid to waste buried in a tomb. Fear made people talk crazy, made people forget their place. He'd surely forgotten his, but in her heart, she knew that he was just trying to help. The Aesir were a traditional people duty and honor were things they clung to. They had little else to cling to now. "Will it change something for him Healer Onrac?" she still held the placid, gentle sad smile on her lips

Onrac wanted to tell Queen Frigga about how having loving voices whispering in people's ears brought them out of comas, how cards and letters helped in the recovery of many patients. He wanted to say how it was a wife's responsibility to open the window and let the soul fly free and say the last rights and cry on her husband's bedsheets. That's what he would want his wife to do in the very least. "No, Your Majesty, probably not," was his truthful answer.

"Then let's make a difference for my husband where it really counts. Let me fulfill my duties as queen and lead my people," she said as he hand finally strayed from his face and took his hand. Her smile grew a little broader.

"Queen Frigga as your physician, I can't advise that you go out into battle..."

"That's fine, I'm not really asking for your advice," she smiled and shrugged.

"Your Majesty, you are all Asgard has!" he urged her. "If something happens to you," his brown eyes darted about. He didn't want to say it. He didn't want to think about it. They couldn't lose Odin, Thor, and the Queen. "The chance of you reaching Prince Thor is very slim," he explained. "And most of the members of Asgard's high counsel are in the Imperial City. We'll have no leadership if the worst should happen."

"if the worst should happen, master healer, leadership will be the least of Asgard's worries," Queen Frigga countered. She swiped her long and messy blonde strand from out of her face and she gave a slightly wry smile. She placed her hand on the healer's heaving shoulder. She patted it steadily and started to walk passed him and out of the door.

"Queen Frigga! Queen Frigga! Queen Frigga!" a frantic woman's voice broke into the communication tower. It was followed by the appearance of Lady Kirsten, one of Queen Frigga's oldest and most dutiful handmaids. Her hair was all over her head and she was screaming. She was grabbing her head when she finally tumbled into the communication chamber. She immediately crashed down slumping against the doorpost. "Oh! Oh, Queen Frigga," she said coughing as she held her heart. "Oh, Healer Onrac, you are here too, thank goodness," she muttered she tried to catch her breath. Her arms outstretched toward the pair. They came to her and healer Onrac bent down to try to scoop her up, but she immediately started twisting and turning uncomfortably and fanned herself as she sucked in air.

"Lady Kirsten are you alright?' he asked.

"You must...you must...you...you must come back down immediately," she expressed through gasping breaths.

"Easy...easy, my lady," Healer Onrac whispered. Once again he tried to place his hands on her.

"The king! The king! The king! OH! MY KING!" she screamed out and grabbed her head like she had a splitting headache. "Norns save him" she moaned and started to sob. Strong, broad, brown arms engulfed the queen's lady-in-waiting. She turned her head into Onrac's shoulder and buried it there letting the tears flow. Onrac turned to the queen. His eyes were pleading. "You have to go... you have to go to him," she tugged on his robes. "The healers need...need to know what to do...he's...he's not breathing," Kirsten tried to whisper. "They need to resuscitate," she whispered.

Queen Frigga's heart stopped. He couldn't breathe, couldn't feel anything. From her nose to her toes she was completely numb. She felt herself sway. She wasn't sure of the words that she'd just heard, they were whispered and hurried and frantic and they might not have been completely accurate. She clutched her chest and stumbled backward. Now, that she'd heard it...for the first time she was seriously considering not going to battle with her people. "Your Majesty!" Healer Onrac practically screamed thinking that Queen Frigga was about to faint.

She stumbled but she caught herself. She placed her hands over her face and was prepared to sob, but just before she could let out the one soul-shattering gasp that longed to come out she heard her husband's voice. It was so soft and gentle, but it was audible. It was just one word. One word that held pride and strength and love, no fear, no regret, but there was some urgency. "Go"

With that Queen Frigga wiped the liquid from her pale cheeks. "Healer Onrac, I trust you will handle all matters for my husband in my absence," she said as she moved on steady feet toward the door.

"Absence?" echoed Lady Kirsten

"Yes, Your Majesty," he stated.

"Lady Kirsten, I need you to prepare my armor," Queen Frigga informed her. She reached out her hand to help the young woman to her feet.

"Armor?" Lady Kirsten looked at Onrac in confusion. She blinked her watery eyes. "But Your Majesty," she started. Healer Onrac placed his hand on the younger woman's shoulder. He nodded. " I...I...I..." Lady Kirsten didn't even know if the queen had armor here. She couldn't think of the last time the queen had been decked in a coat of arms. There were a few times years and years ago when the Queen would go to review the new Valkyrie who had graduated from the Temple of Valka in the Jungles of Bix, but even that was a duty that the queen hardly performed anymore. Usually Lady Sif went along with Prince Thor. Queen Frigga couldn't ride into battle! She simply couldn't. Not with everything that had just happened to the king. Surely, the queen wasn't thinking straight. "But Queen Frigga," she countered. "Did you not just hear what I said?" the handmaiden questioned. Onrac placed a firm hand on her shoulder. Then she turned and faced him and saw the seriousness that was in his eyes. Lady Kirsten gathered herself as she read the bald medicine man's eyes. Her eyes grew wide at the thought of her beloved lady being out on the battlefield. Her body could be left to possibly be dragged through the mud. She could die face down in the dirt. It was as if she was screaming all the horrific thoughts that tumbled through her restless mind right to Onrac through her eyes. He held her gaze, he sighed, his shoulders slumped but he inclined his head toward Queen Frigga. Lady Kirsten shook her head in disbelief. Kirsten turned to face her queen , "right away, my lady," she said as she composed herself and followed behind Queen Frigga.

Queen Frigga carried herself with regality. Her pace was not hurried and she held her head high and straight. Her strides were slow and confident. Neither Healer Onrac, not Lady Kirsten saw the silent tears that streamed down Queen Frigga's cheek that had lost all coloring from both rouge and health. Lady Kirsten quickly went to fill her duty and took the queen's robe so that the back of it would not drag on the ground.

"I will go and see about the king one last time, Your Majesty," Onrac whispered to her as he came on the side of her. He wasn't looking at her face, merely her hands. Without a second thought, he dropped down to his knees and kissed her hand and halted her in her walk. His face was also wet and he pressed his cheek against her palm. "Asgard has never had a better queen than you, my lady" he swore in hushed tones. He pushed away quickly and hurried passed the queen to make his way back to Odin's chamber. He pulled out his pocket watch. It was a beautiful specimen of a timepiece, made with gold overlays and bronze twining in the cogs. It had initials carved into OPT. The initials of his great-grandmother. She had been a healer in a small village on the outskirts of one of Asgard's finer cities. She was a simple woman. With little formal education. She learned to heal mostly on her own through taking odd jobs as a servant to a few apothecaries, herbalist, hospitals in the city. She brought her knowledge back to her tiny village. A village where the people were poor and couldn't afford medicines and healers. She was an inspiration to her sons and daughters who eventually moved on and became educated, they became truly established healers. She was honored and revered as a wise woman in her village all the days of her life and she lived an incredibly long time. He knew her until was roughly around the human age of ten. On her deathbed, she bequeathed her pocket watch to him. It was a piece of finery much more costly than what a woman of her station should have been able to afford, but her works were so good that the magistrate of her small village used the taxpayers' dollars to honor her with gifts. It was her greatest treasure. She held her watch and pointed out the special times that this watch held memories of. She told him the time that she was married, the time when she first healed, the time when his father was born. The time when he was born. And he took note of the slow and steady movement of hands on the watch marking the very moment when she drew her last breath. That clock had kept a record of so many significant times. He looked at the time and looked at Queen Frigga and wondered if he would ever permanently remember the last time he saw both the king and queen alive.

"Your Majesty," Lady Kirsten spoke up. "I...I...I don't know if you have any armor here. Milady,"

"I do. It is in the armory." she reported. "it was a gift to me from my shield-maiden sisters when it was announced to the kingdom that I was engaged to Odin."

"Oh," Lady Kirsten remarked. She marveled at the fact that she had served the queen for so long and still there seemed to be things that she was just learning about her. She thought of herself as one of Queen Frigga's chief confidants and in turn she was amazed that she had been able to call the Queen of Asgard one of her best friends. She knew her so well. She shouldn't have been surprised by the queen's decision to do this crazy thing. The more she thought about it the less surprised she became. As a lady-in-waiting to the queen, she had had the chance to to entertain many royals. Queen Frigga was truly different than most. "Oh yes...yes...yes of course...i think I remember seeing a picture of it one of the scroll columns," Kirsten said trying to make light. The joke fell flat, Kirsten wasn't even truly sure if she saw Frigga smile or if was just her imagination. "Your Majesty, why don't you go to your dressing salon. I can gather the rest of your ladies and we can bring the armor to you," she expressed.

"We haven't the time," Frigga started to shake her head.

"Please!" Lady Kirsten's voice broke forth so ragged that Queen Frigga spun around to face her. The woman was heaving. "Please, my lady," she eased her tone. "Let us do this as a la..." her voice drifted off. Don't say last. Don't say last. She scolded herself for the thought that this could be the last time that she saw the queen. "As a service to you. You are about to go out and risk everything for us..." she expressed as she grabbed Queen Frigga's hand.

"It's what I should be doing Kirsten," Queen Frigga stated as she squeezed her friend's hand tightly,

Lady Kirsten shook her head. "You don't have to do this," she told her.

"I want to,"

"I know. I know," Lady Kirsten bobbed her head and a few of her auburn tendrils tumbled from the bonnet she was wearing to make sure that Odin's chamber was as sterile as possible. "We want to, too. Please, Majesty?" she begged.

The wife of Odin sighed. " You must be very quick. Do not delay me, please...I will ride with our troops even if I ride without armor," she conceded.

"Quick as lightning, my queen" Lady Kirsten pledged. She saluted the queen and darted down the hall. Queen Frigga continued to her dressing salon. Queen Frigga entered the salon. It was a delicately fashioned room. Walls made of mirrors so that the queen could see her apparel from every angle. There were several walk-in closets that were large enough to be chambers themselves, seating cushions made velvet and lace. Rows and rows of shelves and drawers housing jewels, shoes, scarves, broaches, purses and hair pieces for the queen. There was a bathroom and a seamstress nook in the chamber as well.

Frigga slipped off her sandals. She allowed her dainty feet to feel the gentle, smooth cashmere rug. She rubbed his soles and her toes against the luxurious material. It was soft enough to be a comforter on a bed. It was plush enough to be a mattress. She tip-toed across the floor taking in all the sights of her breathtaking dressing salon. Her hands traced the door frame made of Mother of Pearl harvested straight from the Forever Sea. The doorframe shined with every color of pearl imaginable. Whites as white as clouds and ivories rich and deep, blue pearls and pink pearls and beautiful black pearls. There was no stone she loved more than Mother of Pearl. She walked further into the room. Thinking of the many outfits that she had had the privilege of trying on in front of the full-length mirrors. from her engagement gowns, to be a wedding dress, and lingerie, her coronation dress and her maternity robes to the gowns she had worn for so many festive occasions throughout her reign as Queen of Asgard. There had even been gowns and crown jewels that had been bequeathed to her from the queens of the past. She had worn a lovely white mink coat that was lined with golden trim. It had belonged to Odin's mother, Queen Bestia. Bestia had given her so many gorgeous jewels and trinkets right before she and Odin were wed. Many of those prized artifacts still rested within this lovely chamber. This could be the last time that she'd use the beautiful chamber ever again. She may never have the opportunity to slip into an evening gown for a royal ball, or even pick out dresses for Thor or Loki's wedding. She shuddered. Tears pricked at the back of her bright blue eyes. She quickly wiped them away. She tried to tell herself that this was the most significant fitting she would ever have. And even if it was the last time that she would be able to use the dressing salon again, she was glad it was for this reason. She flicked the tears away. This was good. This was noble. This was how an Asgardian queen should go. She was glad that the last outfit she may ever don would be a coat of arms. Rather than a funeral frock. "Odin," the words trembled off of her lips.

"Odin," she whispered the great king's name once more. "Husband, husband can you hear me?" she called out in the still and quiet of the room. She leaned against one of the doorframes. Her knees felt weak. Her breath hitched within her chest and lungs. "I...I...I" she stammered. The thought of the fact that at this very second Odin's life could have already faded from this world was more devastating than any thought that she'd ever had. "I...I...don't want to do this alone," she explained to him. "I don't want to do anything without you," she expressed. Now tears free flowed from her cerulean eyes. "I don't want to leave you," she murmured. Her lips quivering. "I don't want you to leave me," she whispered as she pointed to herself. All of a sudden, she started to feel overwhelmed with guilt. Perhaps her lady-in-waiting and Healer Onrac were right, perhaps she should be by Odin's side. Perhaps she should be on her hands and knees clinging to his bedskirt, wailing and renting her garments pleading for him not to go. She knew she should be holding his hand. Rubbing it gently. She should be kissing, his fingers and cheeks and his forehead and telling him what a wonderful king he had been to Asgard for all these years and how Asgard had never had a better king and how she could have never had a better husband and not just because he was the most powerful king in all of the Nine Realms, but because he was a good man. He was a good, wise and brave man and he had loved her. He had loved her in every way imaginable. She knew that he had been riddled with guilt over everything that had happened. He needed her there reminding him that what had happened to Asgard was not his fault it was Loki's and what had happened to Loki wasn't his fault either. He needed those words from her. He needed the last rights and the simple dignity of having the window opened for his soul to depart to a much-deserved rest in Valhalla. With all these thoughts tumbling through her head Queen Frigga was about to rush back to her and Odin's bedchamber. She hiccupped and sniffled as she tried to compose herself before bolting down the corridor. Just as she was about to turn on her heels and head out the door she felt the same feeling that she had felt before and she heard Odin's voice small and weak urging her to go forth.

Queen Frigga was standing there in the center of the floor in front of all the lovely full-length mirrors when she heard gentle rapping at the chamber door. She gazed at herself. Oh, she looked awful. She shouldn't have been so vain, but she looked as if she hadn't slept of bathed properly in days. She supposed she hadn't. A laugh played across her dry and cracked lips. Oh there was was a time when she wouldn't have been caught dead without her lipstick and rouge. This wasn't one of those times. Her skin was colorless. Her eyes had dark circles and bags that could have gone on for days. Her nightgown was hanging off of her so. As she thought about it she couldn't actually remember the last time that she had eaten. She remembered having the staff of the Southern Palace prepare a hearty meal for the caravan of nobles that she had brought with her to escape from the Imperial City, but she couldn't actually recall eating any food. Food had been placed before her, but had she actually taken a bite? That was nearly a week ago, but it seemed like ages ago. Either way, it looked like she had dropped a few pounds. Her hair was an absolute mess. She absentmindedly stroked her fingers through the tangles of the long strands that weren't blonde, but were now more grayish. She wondered if she would dye it. If she survived...if they survived...hair color would be the last thing that mattered. She thought. She heard the rapping pulled her from her reverie. She gasped. "Yes, yes, come in," she called to the knocking. The door was pushed open. When she turned around looked at those at the door she was amazed to see about 20 of her ladies-in-waiting all gathered at the door. She smiled at them and beckoned them in. They were a sea of lovely faces. Some were her age others were a little young but none any less beautiful. Each one had brought a smile to her face over the years. They had been her companions and her confidants, her advisors and confessors, her committee planners and organizers, her treasurers and secretaries and hairdressers and so much much more. It was good to see them now. Again. One last time. Frigga didn't want to cry and so she didn't. She wore a bright smile and called her maidens forward. She counted them one by one as their beauty and grace flooded the atmosphere of the dressing salon. Each one of them far prettier than any gem that she possessed and far more precious in spirit as well. It saddened her to see that the only one of her royal ladies who was not present was sweet-natured Sigyn. Oh, that poor girl. That poor, sweet girl. She hoped that she was alright and that she was safe.

"Queen Frigga," Lady Karinna was the first of her ladies to appear in the group. She led the troop of handmaidens. "Oh my goodness, you are not even undressed!" she practically shrieked. "I should have had one of us stay with you!" she insisted grabbing her head. "Ladies! Ladies! Please attend to Her Majesty!" she ordered clapping her hands. Immediately, the women looked at each other and a few who were empty-handed scrambled to attend the queen.

"Oh, no, no please, Lady Dakai, Lady Ru don't bother I am perfectly capable of undressing myself, I wasn't waiting for you all..." she said as they fussed over her she tried to shoo them away, but it was useless the two faithful ladies-in-waiting were already busily disrobing her.

"Oh no, Queen Frigga, please, it is our pleasure," Lady Dakai insisted. Lady Dakai, herself was a royal woman from Musepleheim. Her father was a prince and she had three older sisters. Her father had wanted her sisters to stay and find suitors. He wanted her to pursue strengthening relations with Asgard. She ended up falling in love, herself and staying. She quickly pulled at the queen's robes. While the other handmaiden pulled down her skirts.

"Lady Sympka, can you begin to prepare bathwater for our queen?" asked Lady Ru. Lady Sympka immediately snapped to and hustled her way into the bathroom within the salon. Queen Frigga's bathtub was a deep-set jacuzzi with a rainfall showerhead. The water was turned on and it sounded like a tropical rainstorm. Sympka took to making the water. She poured the baths salts in, the kind that changed the color of the water. She used the purple salts for purple was the queens favorite color. She then went and looked through the cabinets until she found flower petals, lilac petals which were the queen's favorite flowers. She delicately and meticulously sprinkled them throughout the bath. The water was water was a beautiful deep, royal purple, nearly violet with the light lilac petals floating on the top it was a picture-perfect scene. Lady Sympka smiled she had always taken pride in her service to the queen. Next she poured the scented oils into the tub. There were many oils and soaps that lined the shelves of the bathroom. She simply needed to pick the right one. She stood on her tip toes as she sifted through them as quickly as she could. She didn't want to make Frigga wait any longer than she had to. Naturally, she decided to go with the clean and refreshing scent of lilacs, but she also needed another scent. Lilac was predictable. Queen Frigga deserved a fragrance that could excite her senses. Her eyes lit up when she found a small vial entitled Extract of Apple and Ginseng. Apple and ginseng, Lady Sympka breathed in the intoxicating aroma herself. Her eyes closed it was so good, so warm and delicious that she could practically taste it. Absolutely delightful. She dashed off of the little step latter that she had been standing on the reached the vials and immediately headed back to the tub and didn't spare expense at pouring in the oil. Now she needed bubbles. Bubbles... bubbles luxurious pink bubbles were just what she needed to make the queen's bath completely. After she had poured in the bubbles and watched the start to form into big frothy, fluffy pink soap clouds she gathered the other tools; the softest, plushest towels, the decadent bathrobe, Queen Frigga's best shampoo and spongey luffa.

It all looked nice and neat, but still, she was certain that something was missing. There was still something else though, less aesthetic and more necessary. She snapped her fingers together to try to make her mind recall the last ingredient. Lady Sympka went back to the cabinet. She continued to look through the bottles of soaps and salts and oils and ointments and crushed flower extracts. She then spied just what the queen needed. In a small jar, she found a powdery substance that sparkled like glitter. It was odorless but certainly pretty but pretty wasn't as important as what it could do. It was a ground healing crystal. "She'll need that," Sympka stated. She nodded to herself and then took all of the crystal fragments and dumped them into the pool. She made for all the contents that were spilled. They dissolved immediately into the bubbles. She hoped that that would be enough. Healing Crystal infused water had often been used as a form of medical treatment, able to cure almost any injury, but it also gave protective and scratch-resistant powers to a healthy body. She hoped it would work for the queen.

"Queen Frigga, you may enter," she called out from the bathroom. The blonde-haired royal nodded gratefully to her ladies and thanked them for so carefully helping her undressed before she entered into the bathroom. Queen Frigga entered the bathroom. her eyes taking it all in. The delicate pink and rose-colored walls. The lovely portraits and figurines of flowers and maidens sculpted to reveal the beauty of nature and the Aesir form and birds. Her nostrils were immediately greeted by the fresh scent of the flowers wafted throughout the room.

Queen Frigga smiled as she looked down at the perfect tub, the bubbles were so fun and inviting and the way the water reflected purple. On another day at another time, she could have imagined bathing for hours. She would light a few candles and would have the servants bring her scrolls and tomes and she'd catch up on her reading. Maybe she would have a refreshing glass of champagne along with finger sandwiches, cheeses and fruits. She could almost taste the sweet grapes that came from the orchard right in the back of the Southern Palace. She would have had one of the court musicians come in and play the harp or violin for her and it would have been oh so lovely. But she didn't have time for that now. She chided herself. The smile instantly was wiped from her chapped lipped. There was no time. No time for anything at all. She shook her head. She didn't even have time to bathe. "Lady Sympka, it is simply lovely," Queen Frigga expressed. Sympka beamed back at the monarch for her kind words. "But...I...I can't...not now...simply dress me for battle. The soldiers need me. Do not try to delay me my friend! Do not!" she warned. "I will ride with my guard this day," she stated.

"Yes, of course Your Highness," Sympka replied. Her voice was a demure whisper. "But please, the bath is drawn... just for a few minutes...you must..." she insisted with some urgency.

Queen Frigga raised her blonde brow. But the water was inviting and Sympka had taken such loving care to prepare the tub. The was already stripped down to her undergarments. "Just a moment, then," the queen remarked back.

"Not a minute longer than you wish, my lady," Sympka responded. With that, the wife of Odin plunged herself deep into the suds. From the moment her toe touched the violet water it was as if her whole body melted into the pool. It was so deep she could have swum in it. That would have been wonderful, but Queen Frigga refrained and just allowed herself to plop on the step, keeping her body submerged. She inhaled deeply as she took in the sweet fragrance of the lilac and apple blossom and ginseng. The water was just right, it was warm like a blanket and her body started to relax. She didn't even know how tense she was until the warm waters hit her bare body. It had truly been several days since she'd enjoyed the simple pleasures of a good soaking. She moved her hands so that it skimmed under the waterfall showerhead. She allowed it to rinse over her arms and head. The water felt smooth, nearly creamy. She indulged herself by starting to lather the bubbles all over herself. "Allow me, my lady" Sympka said as she came over to the queen with a luffa.

"Oh no. No. Lady Sympka, please" Frigga practically rose out the tub. "Don't fuss over me, no. I'll bathe myself, now that's quite enough of that," she wagged her finger as she rolled to her side. Sympka shook her head in protest. She took Queen Frigga by the hand. "Milady, you are risking your life for us," she pointed out.

"No, I'm doing only what I should do as queen," Frigga insisted. "I won't sit by and idly cower when our very existence is at stake."

"And I won't sit by and not serve you and help you prepare for this great task," Sympka's voice was stern. "Now, my lady, sit back and relax, this won't take long," she explained.

Frigga let out a slight chuckle and the sternness of her waiting-gentlewoman. It was most surprising coming from Lady Sympka. She had no choice at that point but to lean back and allow Sympka to do her ministrations. The lady-in-waiting began by scrubbing her arms. Frigga didn't have to move a muscle. "Thank you," she whispered as she looked up at her old friend. Sympka was one of her ladies who were close to her age. She had gorgeous, straight jet-black hair that flowed down her back, a moon-shaped face and almond eyes. She was brought up in one of the few colonies that Asgard had in Vanaheim. Her husband had been the leader of the small village. He was a descendant of one of the original 7 Einar who had founded Asgard. But when he was not picked to become the king of the new empire he moved his tribe to Vanahiem. There they had lived for centuries. Vanahiem was full of feuding clans and warlords. Many of whom often tried to convince the small Asgardian colony to join their cause. Each clan believed that with the Aesir on their side they would finally be able to win the endless civil war and take the realm of Vanaheim away from the royal family. Though, Asgard's official position was that of supporting the royal family of Vanaheim. Lady Sympka's husband wholeheartedly supported the king's position and he was prepared to die for the cause. Attacks had grown more numerous and in preparation for an oncoming attack, Lady Sympka's husband sent the women and children and the elderly out of the village to Vanaheim's capital. There was a raid and her husband much of her family had been killed. Upon hearing the news of the terrible raid on the small colony and the death of one of their elected regents Queen Frigga immediately reached out to his widow in order to bestow gifts and medals to her on his behalf. She invited Sympka to stay at the palace for some a while at least until the fighting and skirmishes ended. Odin wanted to pull the colony from Vanahiem, but Sympka fought for their right to remain there. she expressed to the great king how although they were Aesir with pride they also loved living in Vanahiem, they had grown used to the climate and customs, they had built lives and traded there and their presence there kept the ties between the two realms strong. Frigga admired her spirit and the two got along swimmingly. Sympka returned to her home in Vanahiem for a time, but as much of her family and her husband had died after she helped rebuild the colony she returned to Asgard. She knew few people in Asgard at the time and Queen Frigga was young in her reign, she hadn't even attempted to have any children with Odin yet. Although she was enjoying life in the palace, she too had felt like somewhat of an outsider, most of her family had remained in their small hill-country village and she was wise enough to know that many of the women of court were simply looking for position and power rather than relationships. But she believed that she and Sympka had the potential to become great friends. Her instinct had been right.

Lady Sympka busied herself scrubbing her queen from head to toe. She even washed her hair. It didn't take long, in fact, the whole bath was all too short as far as the lady-in-waiting was concerned. "One my rinse, my lady?" she asked tentatively as she held another vial of oil before the queen's eyes.

"No, there's no more time," Frigga admitted her eyes opening as she started to sit up.

"Let me wash your hair again, your majesty," she offered with a pleasant smile.

"Sympka," Frigga looked up at her from her back as she floated in the tub. She reached out her hand to catch the other woman's before she could start shampooing her hair once more. "You must stop stalling, my friend," she chided mildly.

Sympka started to say something, started to protest, but then her eyes lowered, her mouth snapped shut and she nodded as she dipped her hand back in the soapy water to cleanse them. "As you wish, Your Majesty," she replied and fetched the queen's towel.

Frigga pushed herself out of the wonderful bath. It pained her in both body and soul to move from the tranquil waters, but they didn't have any time to stall. Dutifully, Lady Sympka wrapped one towel around her body and attempted to pat her dry with another. Frigga wrung out her hair. "Thank you, my friend," she said as she raked her fingers through the tangled strands and she took a seat by her vanity. she ran her hand over the mirror to remove the fog. "You know I learned all of this from you," she teased as she pulled out another toward and wrapped her hair in it.

"Me?" Sympka pointed to herself

"Yes, you," Queen Frigga acknowledged. "When I first met you, your colony was facing tragedy. You had the opportunity to run..."

"But I did run, Your Majesty," she protested. "I came to live in Asgard..."

"Only after you did what you could to restore order to your kingdom..." Frigga reminded her.

"It was no kingdom, Your Majesty," she shook her head. "It was merely a colony, a colony of Asgard. I could not let those marauders think that they had defeated us...that they had driven us out or that they could bully us into joining their ranks," Sympka expressed blushing.

"Exactly," Queen Frigga took her by the hand. "You taught me that that was a queen's role to pick up where her husband left off..."

"But Queen Frigga we could lose you," Sympka's voice broke from its normally quiet tone.

"The colony lost you..."

"I left because after I had nothing left in the colony..." the words tumbled out of her mouth and then she looked into Queen Frigga's deep blue eyes she saw the pain welling up in them. Loki was surely a lost cause, Odin was...well Norns...lost...Thor...Thor was a prisoner of the Dark_Elves and they didn't even know if he was still alive. "But Frigga you do have something... you have us," she insisted.

"And that is why I am doing this," she reminded her once more. "I have to make sure that this enemy knows we won't slip quietly into the night," she balled up her fist. "Sympka, please, tell me that you understand..."

"You know I do."

With that Queen Frigga left the bathing room. She went back out to the parlor area. There she found that her armor as draped over the Victorian-style sofa and that her ladies were busy buffing the armor. The armor was simply exquisite. It already shined like a diamond. It was made of only the finest and strongest metals. Beautiful silver, sparkling gold, and even the rarest platinum. The breastplate had a hard shell that was first made of iron and then overlaid with silver. Then there were elegant designs with silver and jewel stones that made up the symbol of the royal crest of Asgard. The leg plates and arm plates were hardened and sharpened with steel and then overlaid with fine silver that shined like a mirror. As the ladies-in-waiting worked they polished it they could see their reflections in the flanks that cover her thighs and calves. The metal for the armor had originally been melted down and sprinkled with healing herbs that would hopefully, if in the case that the wearer was injured leak out on to the wound and soothe it. Queen Frigga's boots were made of gold as well and had a strong and sturdy heel. The shieldmaidens had fashioned the armor exclusively for the queen and so they had made it special. Queen Frigga had a special skirt that was made along with her coat of arms that would go right over the legs. It was a long full-length skirt. It was made of silk and lace interwoven with beads of steel. This not only served as an extra layer of protection for the queen but it functioned as a weapon as well. She could pick the heavy steel beads off of her skirt and throw them at her enemies. The golden silk threads could be used as whips. The skirt was just as lovely as any of the queen's formal gowns. Queen Frigga had also been gifted with special handcrafted weapons that the shieldmaidens of her division had taken special care to have made by the dwarves of Nidavellir. Bellatora, the twin sister of Eriti, designed a grand halberd for the queen to be. It had a long elegant handle that was made of royal amethyst. The blades of the halberd's axe were designed to match Odin's mighty weapon of Mjolnir. It was sharp enough to slice through a boulder like a hot knife through butter. The future queen of Asgard was also given a beautiful sword. The sword of Valka, the first Valkyrie. It was a rare find and was taken from the Valkyrie temple in the jungles. It was a blade that was of onyx stone. It was sharp on both sides. It was so sharp that it had to be sheathed at all time the sheath made of solid gold itself. The hilt was made of jewels. It was breathtaking and deadly.

The ladies-in-waiting. Soon brought the iron garment over to the queen. They began dressing her and efficiently as they could, trying not to get in one another's way. There were special undergarments that the queen had to wear. She wore a metallic brassier and a soft platinum corset. She wore a special iron belt to gird about her loins. The queen's friends greased her legs so that they wouldn't chafe in her armor. They strapped and fastened her iron girdle and belt before they carefully slid her gleaming armor over her petite frame.

Queen Frigga inhaled deeply as she felt the metal plates being slipped over her legs. The weight was heavy and unfamiliar to the queen after all these years. She made sure to train in the art of war, but usually she wore training armor when she practiced in the arena. Karinna, Kyrsten, Lady Sif and even Lady Sigyn were often her companions during her training sessions. With Mistress Ermengarde who was the head of the junior recruits for shield-maiden's academy. She made sure to keep her skills sharp, but the armor that she normally wore was lightweight. It was practice-armor, made of easily malleable materials.

She felt the immense weight of the breastplate buckled against her bosom. She gasped sharply. It felt like a ton of bricks, Uncomfortable and tight. They added the arm plates. They attached the bands that were supposed to allow for more movement. Queen Frigga tried to flex her arms, but movement was limited. She tried to take a few jabs as the ladies adjusted her armor. Her arms were already aching. The suit was strong and thick. It took longer than the queen had originally imagined that it would take, but they did it. They suited her up. They wouldn't let her lifts a finger. They fitted her metal boots on her and slid the golden gauntlets onto her hands. Another lady started braiding the royal woman's hair in neat, tight braids so that her helmet could fit comfortably on her head. They passed Queen Frigga the helmet and she examined it. She checked it for any nicks of dings and dents that it may have acquired from its years in storage. Like the rest of her suit of armor, it was in mint condition. The tips of the fingers on the gauntlet bent back and it allowed her manicured fingernails to be exposed once more. With a trembling hand she traced the beautiful design on her helmet. Her helmet was designed in the form of large braided horns. It was in the old Viking style to reflect her ancestry from the hill country, but the braided horns were intertwined in gold and silver and platinum. When her hair was finally done up to perfection where the braids were flattened and plastered to her head Queen Frigga relinquished her helmet back over the careful hand of her most trusted Lady-In-Waiting, Lady Karinna. Karinna took the headdress in her hands with tears in her eyes. She and the other ladies had helped Queen Frigga dress for so many royal occasions and functions. They had festooned her in all manner of memorable costume. They always made sure that their queen was looking lovely as a portrait for any public occasion, reporters and scribes were never far away from the hustle and bustle of the palace activity. It was always a time of incessant chatter and excitement amongst the royal women. Though, their ages varied they could all act like young school girls once again. Now they had all worked in almost complete silence for the entire time besides to occasionally ask one another to pass them something. Lady Karinna couldn't take the unnerving silence anymore. She settled the helmet upon Queen Frigga's head just as she would have easily settled on of her crowns or tiara's upon her head. She took her time and did it delicately. The finishing touch to the perfect ensemble. "You look beautiful, Your Majesty," she whispered.

All of the Ladies-In-Waiting gathered around the queen they viewed her at all angles and brought forth the mirrors so that the queen could see herself. Indeed, her armor was so well fashioned and fit her so perfectly, the designs were so ornate and elaborate. The craftsmanship was so exquisite that there was no mistaking who she was. One time the Valkyrie host a fashion show to raise money for the widow and orphans of war fund. There were many men who came out to see the gorgeous female warriors. The Valkyrie unlike the shield-maidens were sworn to chastity and usually dressed rather conservatively by many Asgardian standards. Many were hoping to catch a glimpse of those battle-ready bodies in gowns and swimwear. Instead, they saw a display of stunning armor. It still generated a great deal of money. But Queen Frigga's armor would have outshined them all.

One of the queen's ladies brought her her sword. "Your weapon, my lady," she said as she dropped down on her knee and lifted the blade up to the royal. Queen Frigga took the sword in hand and held it mightily. A few more of her courtiers fastened a few daggers to her belt. The daggers weren't meant to be heavy. But she felt their weight. They were so beautiful. She was sure one of them had been given to her by Loki, one day, maybe for her birthday or for the Solstice Celebration or for her and Odin's anniversary or for Mother's Day. She believed in the Norns, she believed in Fate. What a cruel fate this seemed to be indeed.

She felt a soft kiss on her hand. She looked down to find Lady Thira, who was actually her cousin, was the one kissing her hand and weeping. She looked down at her with gentle eyes. She stroked her hand through the young woman's hair. Her hair was sandy-brown, short and curly. She hardly knew Thira before a few short decades ago when she came to court, but she had naturally welcomed her favorite cousin's oldest daughter. Frigga stroked her cheek and smiled while whispering "It's going to be ok,"

Thira shook her head. "No, no, it won't. Not...not if we lose you!"

Frigga wanted to say something. she wanted to argue back. Tell them not to worry. Never to fear, that she would be alright, but she couldn't promise them that. She couldn't even promise them that in the end they would be alright.

More of the noblewomen gathered around her. They followed in Thira's footsteps, they took turns kissing her hands and her cheeks and pledging their loyalty to her. "We should go too! We should go too!" cried Kyrsten.

"We should go in your stead," another proclaimed.

"No!" Queen Frigga immediately reacted. "No, no please...I couldn't bear it," she cautioned them.

"Nor can we bear the thought of losing you!" they insisted.

Queen Frigga let a watery smile fall on her lips. Her heart ached. She was grateful for the fact that she did not have on a trace of face paint for it would have all washed off within a few seconds the way she started to cry. "Listen! Listen! Listen!" she called to them. She stretched her arms out as best she could as she tried to gather her ladies toward her. As children they all huddled around her skirt, they took her by the hands and shoulders and clung to her. She tried to make eye-contact with each and every one of them. "I love you!" she blurted out to them. "I love each and every one of you," she confessed. "You all have been wonderful! Simply wonderful," she went on her voice breaking and quivering. "Spending my days surrounded by you ladies has been some of the best moments I...I...I ever had as queen," she nodded. "I...I...I never knew that I would find such friendship and comradery and wisdom from such a diverse group of ladies," she expressed. "You all are the most beautiful women in all of Asgard," she told them as she swallowed the large lump in her throat. "It's here," she said as she pointed out their lovely faces, "But it's more so...so...so...so much more so..." she started to declare with her fist balled up. "What's here..." she then pointed to her own chest. "I thank you...I thank you so much...so much for what you all have done for me...you have given me the best of yourselves. You have given me your service and your loyalty and your strength and support and your laughter and your love. You have given me and Asgard the best of yourselves," she bit deep into her lip. "Yes...yes you have. I didn't deserve it. No, I didn't," Odin's wife shook her head, "but you gave and I am so grateful for it," she assured them. "I am the better for it. Asgard is the better for it! Each one of you please...please go now, bring me my jewels, bring me my jewels...I wish to bestow..." the queen commanded.

"No, Your Majesty! Surely, we cannot accept..." Lady Karinna waved her hands in front of herself.

"Go!" Frigga said once more. "Quickly please, there isn't much time" she gestured with her hand. Karinna's eyes were wide, but she didn't bother to continue to argue with the royal woman. She and the ladies pulled several of Queen Frigga's most exquisite crown jewels from their cases and drawers. They rushed back and dropped the drawers at the queen's feet. Frigga reached down and picked out the perfect piece for each young woman. She took beautiful broaches and pendants and crests and regal strings of pearls and bands of gold and draped them across the ladies while whispering a personal accolade to the new bearer. She kissed that Lady-In-Waiting on the cheek or the forehead, she hugged and embraced them. When she was done all the ladies stood before her. They stood in a grand processional ordered. They were slightly disheveled and haggard looking, but the lovely bobbles lent them new beauty. "Please no matter what happens let no one tell you that you meant nothing to me. You are all so dear to me. You were not more servants nor my ornaments. You are my friends!"

The women all gathered together. They stood in a circle that expanded to the size of the entire dressing salon. They all held hands. Queen Frigga started the chant. Her voice soft as a breeze and it warbled slightly as she fought back tears and found her note. "The Fates love Asgard," she hummed as she turned to face Karinna, her soft lips held a smile.

"We have to keep believing," Karinna continued. Her hand gave the royal woman's a firm squeeze as she looked her in the eye while singing in unison with the others.

"The beautiful, the golden," Queen Frigga then turned her face toward Lady Kyrsten. The pretty woman was sniffling and sobbing.

"The radiant, fertile..." she choked out as she glanced at another one of the queen Ladies-in-waiting. She managed to smile as she looked at the woman who had 7 children.

"The gentle and blessed," Lady Sympka's accented voice cut through the chorus.

"The pain of Asgard...is only for a moment. The desolate, the suffering, the plundered, the oppressed," Queen Frigga gathered her voice and sang out strong to remind her people. Before long all the women had found the their voices in full force as the belted out. "TAKE ME IN! MY DREAM RECURRING," The female ruler of Asgard slowly broke away from her gentlewomen. She slowly released their hands. She exited the circle and walked steadily toward the door. She took, regal and proud strides. She held up her heavy armored skirt. Kyrsten and Karinna, ever dutiful immediately rushed behind and took up her train. She turned around only to hear all of her Ladies-In-Waiting chime, "One more longing backward glance!" With that Queen Frigga seemed to disappear out of the door of the dressing salon. The noblewomen all darting and scurrying and bunching around the small door frame waving her off with their handkerchiefs.

The walk through the palace to the barracks was painstakingly long and silent. Neither Lady Karinna nor Lady Kyrsten could bring themselves to say anymore. They held each other up as they held the queen's train up. They walked down corridor and corridor that was filled with awful wails from distressed souls fearing for their kingdom and their lives. They heard children crying and grown men blubbering. Servants had abandoned their posts. People drifted through the hallways like ghosts. Rushing to the windows, looking for any tiny glimpse of starlight to wish upon. Some didn't even seem to notice Queen Frigga was dressed in armor. They walked down several long, spiraling staircases. They crossed one courtyard, the trees looked bent and crooked with gnarled trunks and gruesome branches. The grass was dry and there was a stained musty smell, where there should have been fragrant roses growing. The cobblestones that made up the path were broken, As the gate opened to lead to the barracks it squeaked.

"Let me go in and announce you, my lady," Lady Karinna offered as the stepped into the outer court of the barrack. Frigga nodded allowing the woman to fulfill one last duty since it seemed to mean so much to her. "HER MAJESTY, ALL-MOTHER QUEEN FRIGGA JARLDOTTIR, WIFE OF HIS MAJESTY ODIN ALL-FATHER, OF ASGARD!" the woman bellowed as well as any prior court herald.

"The Queen! The Queen Is here," the soldier who was standing watch yelped excitedly as he saw the monarch ironclad and resplendent as ever. His armor clanked as he saluted and then fell to his knees.

The captain from the communication tower came dashing out. "My Lady," he said with a stiff bow. "You look...you...look" his eyes scanned over the queen's regal armor and apparel. He took note of the mighty sword that she possessed and the halberd that she had brandished wish could rival Gungnir in its style and imposing nature. "So...so.."

"Ready for battle, Captain," Queen Frigga explained.

"Yes," he shook his head. "Of course. Let's get Your Majesty onto your horse..." he stated. He gave a command and the obedient warriors went straightway to the stable and brought out Queen Frigga's horse, Mistletoe. Mistletoe was an excellent mare. White as snow, with golden-yellow hair that matched Frigga's own. It was a wild-caught mare, fiery in spirit, strong in body. Frigga had taken the time to train the horse herself and they had a strong bond. The steed whinnied eager to see her favorite rider. The horse pulled away. When the warrior woman stepped forward. It proved to be a good thing that the soldiers were holding her reins or no doubt she would have bolted away from the imposing shieldmaiden. Frigga reached out her hand a stroked the mare's nose. Mistletoe winced at the unfamiliar feel of the metal against her snout, but Friggan stepped closer and she hummer and her eyes locked with the animal and it settled.

"Your chariot is ready as well, milady," expressed a young officer. "We'll need two more horses to help pull it of course," he shrugged. Queen Frigga nodded as she nuzzled, Mistletoe.

"Actually, my queen, if I may suggest," the Captain began. He cleared his throat. "My wish is for you to ride in one of the air crafts. It'll be safer for your ladyship there. I can have the whole battle monitored for you via the satellites and you can be kept abreast of every military move that we make," he insisted.

"Captain, I greatly appreciate you trying to protect me. But I want to ride with the men. I want to be apart of the action and do everything I can to save our people."

"But your highness, I don't believe that the king would want..."

"Odin is not able to communicate his wishes," Queen Frigga's voice curt. She stamped the halberd on the ground. The soldiers snapped to attention. "Since our Prime Minister is not here, I will speak for my husband. I will act as leader in his stead. It is my wish to ride with the troops," she stated.

"Right away, my lady," the captain bowed. "We'll get the horses hitched to the chariot right away and you can review the troops while we do and then we'll be on our way," his hand remained in a salute position.

"Thank you, Captain," Queen Frigga said with a smirk on her lips as she walked passed him. Her ladies carrying her train.

The captain walked right next to Lady Kyrsten took her by the elbow to pull her a bit closer and whispered in her ear, "Well, it was worth a shot."

Kyrsten shook her head. "her mind is made up...much to my dismay,"

They entered into the holding dock where the soldiers were suited up. They had on their fine coats of arms, their feathers, and capes. They were picking men who would ride out carrying their banners and their flags. They were given the chariots and wagons one final look over and some men were loading into the aircraft. Officers were bringing them into squadrons and platoons. They were given the division maps and running off plans. It was busy and full of bustle. With men rushing here and there and loading this and that it looked like there were many more of them than what they actually were.

"ATTENTION!" called the captain. Immediately, everything stopped. Somehow the whole of the troop came the order. They fell in line quick as a flash. Everyman moving into his rank and proper company position. They formed their lines beautifully. There was nothing so distinguished as well trained soldiers clad in the polished silver armor standing at attention, waiting for a command. They were a thing of beauty. "HEE HA!" the captain shouted. The men immediately snapped into the proper stance. They all, in complete and utter unison unsheathed their swords and raised them high in the air to show respect for their queen, who stood on a platform.

Queen Frigga did her best to hold herself steady, but the sight of them made her want to weep. "Very nice. Very nice," she whispered as he eyes roved over attentively and she observed every warrior.

"Only 300 men, my lady," the captain expressed.

Queen Frigga saw it. They were a small force. Good soldiers, but not necessarily the most skilled, some were more tacticians than fighters, some were new recruits who had never even seen battle. This would be the fight of their lives. This could very well be the greatest fight that Asgard or the Nine Realms had ever known. Malekith's force was much larger than theirs. They had terrible weapons powered by the unprecedented fuel of the Aether, not mention Loki's own magic. Who knew what sort of enchantment he may have put over the elves. Beyond that, they had a very limited amount of time. She wasn't truly sure how many able-bodied men and women were still left in the Imperial City. Their Einherjar and Valkyrie had suffered terrible losses. She wanted to have faith. Truly she did. They would fight to the last breath, to the last man, but...Norns knew, they needed more men. "Never underestimate what 300 men can do, Captain..." Frigga stated.

"Of course, Your Majesty," the captain replied as he stood at attention. "Your guard, the palace guard as well as all the foot-soldiers we have. My men are very skilled, my lady. They've been well trained, but they have the most practice in military communications and establishing communication for soldiers rather than actual fighting," the captain expressed.

Queen Frigga turned to him a calm smile on her face and touched her hand to his shoulder. She patted it gently. "Well at least we will be able to communicate with the Einherjar as we travel toward their location." she encouraged. The captain nodded. "I'll speak to them," she stated and gestured toward the warriors. She then cleared her throat. "Soldiers! Warriors!" Queen Frigga called to the troops. She could see them all standing there. They looked tall and proud and strong as any force she'd ever seen. Their sterling silver armor gleamed in the dim light of the barracks. Their swords were sharp and pointed and raised high in the air and their arms were sturdy and didn't seem to tire of holding the position. Their helmets were all crested with fine dark plumage. They looked as imposing and as stately as the finest troops in Asgard. "This morning I'm prepared to ride with you," she breathed. To this, the soldiers stamped their feet the metal of their armor made a thunderous sound of applause although their arms remained raised high in the air and their postures stately. "And I could not be prouder of this company," she declared to them. "I ride in my husband's stead. Undoubtedly, you all would rather have your king leading you into battle. I would too," Queen Frigga said. Her voice rattled in her throat and she was sure that the men would hear her armor shaking. Queen Frigga took a deep breath and continued, "Norns, I would too. But the all-father...the all-father he can't be with us right now," she informed them as best she could. "But his spirit is with is," she professed. "Just as the spirit of all the all-father's before him are with us. They are with us!" she declared as she slammed her fist into her hand. "Do not look at your numbers. Your numbers are so much larger than they seem. Because besides you, you have the blood of thousand warriors of Asgard who have gone on and fought many countless victories. They are our guides today. We ride into battle and we ride to face terrible odds. WE face darkness greater than any that the Nine Realms have ever seen. But we are the beacon of hope for the Nine Realms and we will fight. We will fight! We will fight to our last breath! We will not slip quietly into the night. We will not let the Aether flourish without putting forth our best effort to protect the light. When the dawn comes, remember that you fight to protect everything that you love about Asgard. You will wage war on our enemies for your mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, for your wives and daughters and..." her voice cracked just slightly as she choked out, "sons. So that can have a future. No matter what happens. You all have earned your place in Valhalla, this day. You will have proved yourself with your incredible valor! Men," she called. "Warriors of Asgard, I, your Queen...I salute you," she reported to them and she raised her hand to her temple.

The men returned the salute to the queen. They raised their swords in her direction. They thumped their fists against their breastplates at the same exact time and dropped to their knees. "FOR ASGARD!" they bellowed in a chorus.

"For Asgard!" Queen Frigga shouted back. "Let's ride!" she turned to the captain of the communications officers and gave a firm wink.

He took her by the hand immediately rushed her to her chariot. Her informed several as his best soldiers to stand on the back of the queen's chariot. This is Sir Ravenclaw and Sir Mitclaff! They're the strongest warriors in the company. I'll put them on your chariot to be your personal guards." he expressed.

"If they are the strongest then they should be out in the front...we can't afford to lose any men..."

"Please, Your Majesty. You know that the king would command us to do as much," he looked her in the eye as he hitched the chariot and horse

"Very well, Captain. I will trust your military prowess in this regard," she expressed as she grabbed the golden handles on her chariot. The two fine soldiers stepped on the chariot with her. They were both men of impressive stature and rugged Viking bears. One was an expert spearman. He had many awards on his chest and armor from spearing matches that he had won. The other had a deadly crossbow strapped to his back.

"Defend our queen with your life," he warned the men before stepping away. He held his head high and he walked with a straight back, but all the while he shivered. He was a captain of the guard, but he was simply a captain of a communication tower. His company was trained in how to set up communications in hostile military encampments, they ran satellites and recon. They delivered message to and fro on and off the battlefield. They were trained, they were well trained of course, but many had never truly seen the heat of blazing battle. Most of his company were young, rookie recruits. They weren't ready for this. His hands sweated inside of his gauntlets. He wasn't ready for this. They were such a small troop. What difference could they possibly make against Loki and Malekith and a hoard of Dark-Elf soldiers? He tried to tell himself that even if they just served as a decoy and somehow distracted the Dark-Elves long enough to let the Einherjar breakthrough than that in and of itself was a good enough, noble enough task. But even still he had his doubts and misgivings. The way the message had come in. Talking about how many Einherjar and Valkyrie and citizens had been slain in the Imperial City well it didn't look promising for any of them. He had commissioned one of his head communications experts to send out a distress signal to the citizens of Kytheria, urging the able-bodied to come and fight. The message went out, but they hadn't gotten any responses back. He walked through the ranks. He inspected the troops one last time. He mounted his horse and set next to his commander. "Captain, I don't think we will have any more fighters than ourselves," he explained solemnly as he kept his eyes forward.

"There's nothing that we can do now," the Communication's Captain admitted as he took the reins of the bridle. He kept his eyes straight and put down the face mask of his helmet. "Save pray," he mumbled. Immediately, he watched as the commander bowed his head and whispered a few frantic words. He gulped. His mouth was so dry that the swallow was painful. "COMPANY FORWARD!" he ordered mightily. His normally soft-spoken voice somehow managed to rise above the clatter and clank of the armor. The troop leaders called out to their bands and the buglers played their horns to relay the message as well. With that, the small company started to move.

It was slow at first. The Captain's white horse pulling out first among the ranks, leading the company. His horse performed and elegant and well taught march. It was a proud trot. The horse had armor on as well and feathers on their heads. They looked quite a regal sight. The hooves of the other horses immediately fell into place and followed in step. The wheels of chariots and carts and wagons started to turn slowly moving over the gravel. Lines from the wagon wheels started to form as they pulled out. The horses neighed and whinnied as they started to pull the heavy loads of chariots containing people and cargo and heavy artillery of crates of ammunition and cannons and bombs. The motors for the hovercrafts and solar skiffs started to hum and the vessels lifted off the ground and the company pulled out. Some smoke and exhaust from the flying ships started to fill the air.

"OPEN THE GATE!" one soldier cried out. The buglers tooted their instruments loudly and proudly signaling for the guards who were standing by the gate to open as well. Slowly, the gate started to open. It was painstaking work to pull up the old gate. They had to crank it by hand. They had shut down most of the Southern Palaces technological defenses, thinking that Loki and the Dark-Elves could easily access those functions and hack into the system. Strong men cranked and twirled and wound the drawbridge wheel. Their groans mingled with the sounds of the gears grinding and the metal moving and scratching against other metal, wood, and stone.

When the gate was finally opened completely the soldiers expected to be greeted by some form of light, but there was no light. The sky still held the dark haze of night as it was not yet dawn and the residue of Aether ash had been carried in the wind and was forming hideous red storm clouds that blotted out the starry sky. It was a bleak, endless night. The troops continued to march out. Overhead, on the balconies and rooftops and outposts and spires of the palace the tiny battalion was waved on and cheered for and encouraged by the onlookers who resided in the palace; the nobles and the women and children and serfs. They applauded and cheered and waved their banners and flags and through down favors and flower petals. "FOR ASGARD!" the cried as they shouted from the rooftops. The soldiers echoed their sentiments back to them They raised mighty fists in the air they held their banners high and continued in their march. They were fighting for Asgard and it would probably be the last fight they'd ever have.

"LONG LIVE KING ODIN!" they shouted as they watched the queen's lovely chariot pass by in the parade it was heavily armed. Queen Frigga raised her hand and waved to the nobles. Her heart was heavy as she heard the cries for her husband's life. She was not with him, but she knew that he was with her. She held her head high and slapped the reins of her horses. "LONG LIVE QUEEN FRIGGA!" the crowd continued to bellow as flower petals of white showered down upon her.

The meager battalion of 300 finally made their way through the courtyard and they were waiting for the drawbridge to open to let them pass into the city limits. Once again they waited for the drawbridge to be lowered by hand. Queen Frigga managed to push her way through the troops and up to the front to stand by the Captain. The man had his eyes squarely fixed on the drawbridge that seemed to take a lifetime to open. It lowered only a few inches as minutes ticked by. "Captain," Queen Frigga's voice interrupted his counting.

"Your Majesty," he turned to face her. "Please, my lady you must stay in the formation. All the men are prepared to defend you there," he explained.

"There's no fighting or danger as of yet, Captain," she expressed. "I wish to lead our men," she insisted. The captain turned from the queen. He kept his gaze on the old wooden bridge that could scarcely seem to lower. The all-mother, notice his pensive gaze. "It shall be well, Captain," she encouraged him. She reached her hand over her chariot and she tapped his hand gently. She gave him a strong look. "You have a good company," she assured him. "I can tell each one of these men is ready to fight with the power of a Berserker," she went on proudly.

"Would we that we had the Berserker Staff of old, Your Highness," he said nervously. The bridge was only half-way lowered and they didn't have time.

"We have everything that we need," Odin's wife reminded him. She pressed her hand to her heart.

With that, in an instant, the drawbridge was completely lowered. It just fell down with a loud crash. It startled some of the horses and the warriors had the rein in their animals to keep them steady. The Captain gestured with his hands for the men to make a flanking maneuver and move forward. The commanders and leaders of the smaller bands repeated the gesture and got their respective companies moving. They advanced with more speed as they pulled from the palace grounds and readied to enter the street. They expected silence, The foreboding silence of empty streets. The only sound they expected to hear was the whistling wind that carried the bitter barrowing of wailing and gnashing of teeth as the Asgardians of Kytheria sank into despair at this dark hour. But instead, what to their wondering eyes should appear was a sight that was simply breathtaking.

Lined up, just outside the gates of the palace in the most splendid fashion was what seemed to be about 1000 Aesir men and women and even youths. They were a rag-tag, volunteer army of millers and bakers and tinkers and artisans, teachers and weavers, farmers and merchants. They had armed themselves with whatever armor they could find. Most of them had used old family heirloom armor. Most of which was tarnished and rusted and outdated. Some had simply fitted themselves with whatever scraps of metal they had. They'd wrapped themselves in brass barrels, broken open iron chest and hammered them away in some fashion to make crude coverings and shields. They'd painted the symbols of Asgard on their chests. Their weapons were pitchforks, cleavers, pocket knives, blunted swords, broken spears, torches, hammers, bows and arrows, clubs and bats. They'd brought their wagons, chariots, carriages, horses, mules, and oxen. Those brave souls, not a one a trained, professional warrior of Asgard let out a battle cry that shook the very foundations of the Southern Palace.

"Where'd they come from, Commander?" questioned the captain. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the sea of people. He started to try to count them. But their numbers were far too staggering and great.

"I guess the people got the message after all..." the commander replied. He was just as astonished and dumbfounded as his captain.

"The Norns have heard us," Queen Frigga stated with tears in her eyes.

---

"Everything is in place, Prime Minister," said Lady Sif as she marched toward him several soldiers following behind her. "The healers have moved the extremely infirmed to the hidden chamber behind the wall." the shieldmaiden continued.

Prime Minister Algrim shook his head. "Hidden chamber behind the wall, truly our ancestors thought of everything," he expressed. His chapped lips nearly formed a smile.

"They did everything they could to ensure our survival," Lady Sif replied.

"And, so, will we." Algrim acknowledged. "Malekith and the Dark-Elves will be suspicious if they arrive and find no people here."

"It's all been taken care of, sir I have divisions of men scattered to be captured with a few of the crowd. Those who are captured will have the protection of the warriors. Other Einherjar and Valkyrie will lead the rest of the citizens to scattered points. They'll have the reactors with them and they'll place them around the palace," Sif continued to explain.

"Very well, Lady Sif" Algrim nodded as he walked around the council chamber.

"Frandal has about 30 Einherjar with him who are going to escort about 400 men women and children out in a few minutes. They'll flee into the woods to take shelter. That way, if something goes wrong... if...if...the worst should befall us at least some will survive. You should go with them Lord Algrim," Lady Sif insisted.

The Elfin Prime Minister looked at the brave and proud warrior woman. "I actually think that I will stay here with the group that is going to give themselves up for the Dark-Elves to capture," The gray-haired elf stated.

"Lord Algrim, no you can't be serious!" Prime Minister Audric called out and grabbed his skinny friend by the arm.

"Prime Minister, please!" Lady Sif started to protest. "Everything is in place for you to travel with Frandal. You don't have to do this."

Algrim tapped Prime Minister Audric on the shoulder, he turned to Lady Sif and smiled. "No, Sif please it is exactly what I want to do," he expressed. "I act in Odin's stead. Our king would never abandon the people." he explained.

"Algrim, come, come," The Prime Minister of Vanaheim said as he cleared his throat. "You are acting as Asgard's leader right now. Odin's far away the decisions need to come from you."

"Lord Audric is right. The people need a leader. You should go with those in the woods. You all can run and go get help if need be," Sif reported. "Soldiers will be stationed with you. You will be safe in the woods..."

Algrim started to chuckle. "I am not scared of the woods Lady Sif."

"Of course not, Prime Minister...I wasn't trying to imply that you were...it's just...it's just...it's just I don't understand... we need you. The citizens of Asgards need to see you. They trust you as the head of the Council of Asgard. If you give yourself up then it'll seem like there is no leadership..."

"That's not true Lady Sif, the people of Asgard don't need to look to me, if all goes well then hopefully we will have Prince Thor back," He explained.

"Prince Thor!" Sif's voice cracked. "Yes, Prince Thor! We have to rescue Thor," Sif reminded herself of the mission. It wasn't just about survival, it wasn't just about defeating the Dark-Elves. It was about saving Prince Thor. "But still, Lord Algrim until we have Prince Thor you are the one who the final decision flows through," she pointed out.

"As the decision-maker for Asgard and leader of the High Council, it is my decision to be captured. It makes the most sense for me to be captured, Lady Sif. It's a strategic decision, my lady, let me assure you. We must remember that our enemies are not just the Dark-Elves, but Loki as well."

"Loki," Lady Sif growled his name. Her hand immediately strayed to touching the hilt of her sword. She immediately unsheathed it and whipped it out. She slashed it through the air. "I will drive my blade clear through his soul for what he has done," she swore as she brought the blade up to her face and stared at it.

"I expect nothing less from you, Lady Sif." He touched her on the shoulder. "Your sword has always proven valiant in the heat of battle. You have vanquished so many of Asgard's foes. I know that you will not fail. When you find Loki. Show him no mercy... tear him limb from limb," The elfin prime minister charged her.

"With pleasure, sir," Sif swore as she dropped to one knee and placed her fist against her chest in a solemn pledge.

Prime Minister Algrim tried to smile. He managed a wince before he took a sharp breath and turned his back to the warrior woman. He stroked his thin, white beard. "But we must remember that Loki is wily and shrewd. Worst of all he is an enemy who he knows our ways. Knows us." the leader of the high council stated. Sif started to rise. "We can trick the Dark-Elves, but Loki will be much harder to fool," he explained. "It will look suspicious if none of the members of Asgard's High Council are in the crowd to witness Thor's execution. Loki will notice. He knows us the Dark-Elves do not."

"But it doesn't have to be you, Algrim," Audric interjected.

"He's right, Prime Minister, it doesn't" expressed another member of the High Council. "You're our Prime Minister and our leader right now...we...we will stay," insister a woman. One of Asgard's chief justices. She was a plump woman arrayed in purpled, her garments were smudged and singed, but she still looked like a noble with a turban upon her head and several malting feathers sticking up at the top. She pointed to several other High Council members.

Their eyes grew wide. Their heads swiveled simultaneously. "We will?" they echoed their sentiments in a chorus. The plump judge cloaked in purple pinned them all with a stern glare. Had she had her gavel in hand she would have banged in on the nearest podium and pronounced her judgment. "I mean of course we will," they all muttered as they looked at one another nervously.

"I appreciate your offer, Honorable Lady Walhalla," Lord Algrim began. "But I don't think it will be that simple. Loki most likely doesn't know all who have survived this attack, but he knows I survived. He had me in prisoned and my refusal to bow to him angered him greatly. He'll want to see me in the crowd. He'll look for me. And if he doesn't see me I wouldn't put it pass Loki to smoke me out. Loki knows about the catacombs. I took him and Thor here when they were lads. Loki knows there are trapped doors and hidden passageways. But those who are hiding are too weak to run and fight back. We can't risk their lives. I...I can't risk their lives," Prime Minister Algrim pointed to himself. "So I'll stay and I'll be taken," he stated.

Lady Sif bit her lip. Her face was twisted. Her sworn duty as an Einherjar was to protect the crown with King Odin and Queen Frigga and Prince Thor not there Asgard's High Council and chiefly the Prime Minister counted as the crown abandoning him seemed so wrong. "Alright." Sif finally agreed. "If you're sure..."

Algrim nodded. This time a smile managed to find his thin lips for but a second. For a split second his lips turned upward just long enough for him to look Lady Sif firmly in the eye. He'd known her practically just as long as he'd known Thor and Loki. He was her professor in her younger years for her Elfin classes. Sif spoke with a rough accent and she was terrible at interpreting the literature, but she worked hard to understand the language. "I am," he whispered. "I am," he nodded once more. And he was. Asgard was his adoptive home. When his own world had been nearly destroyed by the Dark-Elves it had been the Asgardians who had come and defended them. It seemed only befitting that he should give himself in such a way. He had no biological family left. He had the people of Asgard and the royal family who he'd taken as his own. He had the young people like Lady Sif, who he'd reared and nurtured and done his best to impart his elfin wisdom too. He'd watched them grow to become fine pillars of the realm. He felt for them as nieces and nephews. "It's okay, Sif," he spoke back to her. His think white hands reached out to clasp hers. Her brown eyes misted. "It's ok." he gave her hand a squeeze. Sif nodded back and swallowed deeply. She batted her eyes quickly and no water fell. "Now you have to hurry. Everyone has to get to their position. !5 minutes is all we have to spare and barely that," he urged.

Sif let go of his hand. "There are plenty of soldiers staying behind who will be interspersed among the population. Stay close to them," she admonished.

"Go!" The Prime Minister of Asgard ordered. Sif did not disobey a direct command. She followed suit giving her company their marching orders and started behind her troop. She had taken only a few steps, but then she stopped and turned back around and faced Lord Algrim. She rushed back to him quickly. She wrapped her arms around her old teacher. It was a quick embrace then she was back to exiting alongside her men.

Everyone started to disperse. Algrim walked alongside Prime Minister Audric. "Do you honestly, still think this plan will work?" the Vanir Prime Minister asked.

Algrim's pointed ears twitched. "It's the only one we have, so it better" Algrim chuckled.

"Oh Norns, that's not funny," Audric shook his head.

"What choice do we have, but laugh now, brother," Algrim replied. To this all Audric could do was nod.

"Do you want me to stay with you? I can be in the company that goes to the execution too."

"No, no, if we win your people still will need you," Algrim insisted.

"This will work, Algrim," Prime Minister Audric assured him.

"I hope to the Norn's it does," Prime Minister Algrim responded. "But either way my friend, see you on the other side," Algrim smiled before he gave his long time friend a hug.

The two prime ministers hugged long and tight. "See you on the other side," the Prime Minister of Vanahiem murmured low in his throat. This was the first time he said it that he didn't feel completely afraid. He didn't want to see the worlds perish and burn, he didn't want to die. Nobody does. But if he did and he entered into the gates of Valhalla, he could be with his wife. Ingrid, he had not been with her in so many centuries and he could be with Dagmar, his beloved daughter, his only treasure. So maybe either way...it wouldn't be so bad. Lord Audric surprised himself with his thoughts. He'd never particularly considered himself a brave man. He'd fought in his fair share of wars and battles. Vanahiem was a wartorn land. He was in politics, but he was drafted to the king's forces as many local lords were trying to overthrow their childish king. But the Vanir were not a warrior race. They were wizards and scholars mostly. He'd had to fight, but fighting wasn't in his blood. He'd gone into politics to help unite his people once more and to bring Vanahiem back to being a land of vineyards and villas and vistas, an empire for the learned. He wasn't a brave man, but he wasn't as afraid...anymore. The two men took one last good look at each other. They held each other's gaze. Algrim gripped Audric by the neck, the way the Aesir did and Audric extended his pinky finger toward Algrim. They were two sons of different realms that had both found safe haven and friendship in Asgard. Audric bent over once more and kissed the Light-Elf Prime Minister on the cheek. "On the other side, friend," Audric confirmed with a shake of the hand. His pinky released Algrim's. He brought his fine purple tunics and silver cape to drape over his whole body. It covered him from head to toe. No parts of him were revealed as he made his way to join the group that was set to flee into the woods. Prime Minister Algrim waved him off.

"Alright, Lady Jane Foster," Bardok expressed coming up to her. He was strapped with a reactor on his back and a controller in his hand. He had a pair of throwing bolas attached to the waist belt of his tunics. "We've fitted about 500 men and women with the reactors. Mistress Leoma and I showed them how to use them. WE have a great military escort with us too. Most are palace soldiers and they'll lead us and show us the vulnerable spots around the palace. The blind spots where we can slip in hopefully undetected by the Dark-Elves," Bardok explained. His look was somewhat pensive but there was a hopeful smile on his face.

"Alright, very good then," Jane said. She was fiddling with her own instrument.

Bardok touched her shoulder. "This plan of yours was brilliant," he said.

"I just hope it works," Jane Foster muttered. She began to try to put on the armor that the shieldmaidens had given her. They said that it was lightweight. They called it training armor. It was made up of some type of poly-blend alloy of aluminum and bronze. Strong, but apparently not heavy. Jane wasn't sure that the armor wasn't heavy. She was winded after she strapped on the metal plates. The breastplate felt like it was 15 pounds at least. She gritted and strained her teeth as she tried to strap on the reactor rod onto her back. She was huffing and puffing, barely able to lift the large metal prong from the ground. Bardok saw the way her brow was strained and even the veins in her dainty hands were starting to pop out.

"Here, allow me," said the young enchanter Bardok. He had a kindly smile on his face. He bent down with one hand and lifted the rod as if it was nothing, but a one pound dumbbell. He easily hoisted it and put it on her back. Jane groaned and sank with the weight of another piece of metal being attached to her. "Perhaps you shouldn't go with us," Bardok stated as he looked at the mortal woman. Her face was dirty, covered with all manner of ash and grime. Her eyes were so bloodshot there was not a speck of white to be seen in them. Even the brown of her irises seemed to have been changed to deep mahogany. Her whole body shook and quivered from exhaustion. She was just a mortal. "Maybe you can stay here with Mistress Eir. Hide in the passageways with our wounded," he suggested he tossed his head to the side.

"No, no, no," Jane shook her head slowly. "It's my invention," Jane said as her eyes drooped. "I...I want to be there." she insisted.

"Lady Jane, come, come now. Don't you trust me?"

"Of course, but..."

"There's no buts Lady Jane. Look at you, you are exhausted you can hardly stand. You have never known war..."

"Have you?" Jane shot back. She looked Bardok up and down. He was young. He looked younger than her. Bardok was handsome but thin. He certainly was more suited for work at universities than that of the battlefield.

Bardok looked at her with questioning eyes. "Yes," he whispered. "I have fought in several wizards duels," he confessed.

Jane's eyes grew wide. She shook her head. "I am sorry...I did not mean..."

"And to marry my wife, I had to fight off 5 men," he chuckled.

"Well I fought...I fought when Thor was sent to Earth and his Loki sent that...that...that" she struggled to find the word as her mind was foggy with fatigue... "That robot after him!" Jane interjected.

"Lady Jane, I meant no disrespect or dishonor to you. I have been greatly impressed by your ideas. You're honestly quite clever," the young master mage went on.

"For a mortal," the female scientist sneered.

"For anyone," Bardok responded. "But you are mortal," He reminded her and he took her by the shoulders. "You're only human and I doubt that you have ever faced the likes of what is about to come on," he said with a gulp. "I don't even feel prepared for it myself," he pointed out. "And I have studied combat mystics for centuries. You don't have to do this," he said to her. He gave her a bit of a shake. "You've already done valiantly. No one is truly expecting you to fight against that dark horde."
"Oh don't I know it," Jane stated. She wiped her hand over her dirty face. "I know no one expects it. No one expects much of a mere mortal here," she went on.

"Lady Jane...I did not mean..."

She held up her hand and silenced the young enchanter. "But maybe its because I am a mortal that I want to get out there and fight!" she insisted. "See I guess that's the thing about we humans, we have something to fight for. Our lives aren't endless," she expressed. She let out a huffing breath, "on the contrary, they are quite brief," she shrugged her shoulders. "We know we won't live forever, but we want to live as long as we can. So, we'll fight for it! I'll fight for it tooth and nail because no matter what the outcome of today is I want to see the man I love one last time. If I sit here and cower behind a wall that may never happen," Jane explained.

Bardok nodded. "I understand, my lady," he said. "And we need you out there," he commended her. "Most of our group is ready to go, I'll go and give everybody their orders and make sure that the teams are divided up properly and then we'll be underway."
"I'll meet up with my group in just a few minutes," Jane said as she fiddled with a switch on her reactor control. She had a master control that was supposed to be able to detonate other reactors if the controllers for those went down.

"See to it that you do, we don't have a moment to spare," he stated and saluted her. He then proceeded to walk toward a few other mages who were going to be leaders for their band. They were most huddled toward the back of the chamber passing out the schematics to the soldiers and citizens and giving them instructions. Young Bardok started to chuckle slightly as he walked away. Jane stared at him curiously. He turned back and called over his shoulder. " Lady Jane," The auburn-haired scientist looked up from screwing and tweaking her instruments. "It's very funny to me," he muttered.

"What?"

"That in all our history it has always been written how Asgard protected the other realms, particularly Midgard. It's always been said how we save you from near destruction on so many occasions. Because the humans were poor and weak and defenseless with limited technology and resources to fend off the other realms" his shoulders shrugged. "But if this day is won..." he paused and inhaled sharply. "if I survive," he closed his eyes. "I will make sure that it is recorded...that it is put into Asgard's history...that in her darkest hour, when Ragnarok was banging down her door and breathing its deadly breath down her neck that it was a Midgardian, a mere mortal, who for the love of a prince, came up with a plan, with the technology of her realm and time to save us all." He saluted her and then bowed in the traditional way that Asgardians do when they show respect to a liege. Jane's tired, dirty face erupted into a soft smile, a few tears quickly streaked down her face. She wiped them away and returned the salute.

As Bardok depart only a few feet away to meet with the young scholars and other citizens who were taking it upon themselves to set up the rods, Lady Sigyn entered into the chamber. She spied the young astrophysicist struggling to put on the parts of armor like the rerebrace (the arm guards and the pauldron to protect her shoulders. "Need a hand?" the blonde-haired maiden said as she came over.

Jane gasped. She was shocked as she was sitting on a bench her body contorted in every possible way as she tried to twist and twine the straps on to her shoulders. "Oh, goodness, Sigyn," Jane nearly shrieked. She was so alarmed that she dropped pauldron armor piece.

"Oh, oh my!" Sigyn responded seeing as all the beautiful metal tumbled to the ground. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Sigyn began waving her hands in front of her and then she rushed to pick up the pieces of armor. She gathered them quickly and sat them next to Lady Jane on the bench. "I didn't mean to frighten you! Sorry! Sorry," she said again in a whisper as she patted the air.

An easy smile came across Jane's face once more. She wiped her brow and placed her hand over her heart. "Oh no. Oh no, Sigyn. You're fine...it's just...it's just I can't get this dumb armor on," the auburn-haired scientist said with frustration as she tried to move on to a new piece of metal. She figured it would be easier to put on the large metal slipper that the Valkyrie had provided for her. It was way too big and fit poorly. She tried to raise her foot off the ground and could scarcely lift it off the ground. It felt like she had a brick strapped to her foot. "How am I supposed to walk in these?" Jane questioned as she struggled to raise her leg. "I can't even walk in heels," Jane tried to laugh. "Thor's never seen me in heels," she confessed. "He probably never will now," she shrugged off.

"Don't say that," Sigyn countered as she vigorously shook her head.

"No matter, I guess...it's silly and besides I'd probably have fallen flat on my face," she said laughing once more.

"Oh, don't say that. my lady," Sigyn insisted. "I have a lovely pair of silk, purple wedge sandals. They have little blue diamonds all around. Ohh, it's gorgeous," Sigyn said as she closed her eyes and pictured the perfect shoe. "You can dance the night away in those shoes," she admitted. "When this is all over, I will be sure to let you borrow them and I'll make sure you waltz your way right in front of Prince Thor," Sigyn gave a wink and a smile.

"That'll be a first," Jane confessed. "But I think survival is the most important thing here."

"A great pair of shoes is the first step to survival," Lady Sigyn pointed out brightly. She looked down at the sabaton (Armor shoes) that were resting by Lady Jane's feet. She shook her head as she then went to try to put on another piece of armor. She fumbled with it aimlessly for a minute until it tumbled off of her and clanked on the ground again. Sigyn and Jane both simultaneously winced at the grating sound."Here, let me help you, Lady Jane," Sigyn offered eagerly. The queen's lady-in-waiting immediately stooped down to held Jane with her protective shoes. "Most are one size fits all," she expressed. She pressed a knob on the side of the shoe and it immediately adjusted. The folds of metal molded back to a size that fit her.

"Hmm," Jane said with curiosity as she watched the technology. "That was surprisingly easy," she shrugged. "The shoes are still heavy, but at least now they fit. Thanks," she smiled at Sigyn. Jane sighed, she ran her fingers through her tangled muddy hair. "I should have been able to figure that out," she looked down at her foot and kicked it. "You'd think a person would be able to put on a simple pair of shoes," she chided herself.

"It's no problem, Lady Jane, I don't mind helping you at all. I've been helping a lot of soldiers get ready," the blonde woman gave an easy shrug. She immediately began maneuvering the rest of the armor over Jane's body. She latched on the back part of her armor easily for her arms and legs.

"I shouldn't need someone's help for something like this," Jane grumbled

"There's no shame in needing help, my lady," Sigyn responded.

"But it's getting dressed," Jane pouted.

"Well it takes a lot to put on armor, believe you me," Lady Sigyn pointed to herself. "You know in kinder-class learning how to put on armor is a requirement to graduate," she explained.

"Really?" Jane's auburn brow's quirked at the notion.

"Oh yes, it is the first step in learning to be a warrior," the Aesir woman nodded. "Every Aesir child has to train with weapons," Sigyn expressed.

"Usually, we just have to learn how to zip our coats or tie our shoes" Jane Foster explained halfway laughing

"Maybe our worlds aren't so different after all, Lady Jane," Sigyn stated.

"Maybe not," Jane replied slowly, carefully.

"You know," Sigyn stated as she leaned over into Jane's ear. "It was rumored that Lady Sif's older brother, Leif, he failed" her golden eyes darted back and forth.

Jane Foster couldn't help but giggle at Sigyn's antics. The truth was she didn't even know Lady Sif had a brother up until this moment. Of course, it wasn't hard for her to picture the warrior woman growing up with a brother. It was no deep dark secret to be kept around her. The man could have been in the very same room as they and she wouldn't have known the difference. She wondered if Lady Sif's brother was as handsome as Sif was beautiful. Lady Sif was very beautiful. She doubted that the shield-maiden knew it or considered herself beautiful. That was something that they both had in common. They had worked hard to distinguish themselves from their sex by excelling in certain areas. They didn't focus on their looks. It wasn't until Jane landed a wealthy, young resident that she had even the foggiest concept that men could find her so attractive. She wondered how embarrassing it was for Sif's family that the son had failed his kinder-class lessons.

"Anyway, it's no big deal you see. Lief ended up being a fine warrior. He's an Einherjar too, but not as high ranking as Lady Sif of course. Well anyway, he was naturally too embarrassed to be outranked by his little sister, so he got switched to an out and now lives by the cost," she pointed over her shoulder.

Jane let out an exasperated sigh, "That's just It, Sigyn," Jane practically snarled. "I'm not a soldier," she pointed out as Sigyn finished helping her don the last few pieces of her armor. "I'm not a warrior or anything like that."

"Well you certainly look the part," golden-locked daughter of Admiral Arn stated. She stood up and motioned for Jane to do the same. "Being an Aesir warrior is all about confidence!" Sigyn encouraged as she balled up one tight fist. "And there is nothing to give you confidence like the perfect outfit for the occasion," Sigyn looked Lady Jane up and down. The Valkyrie armor was formfitting and tight to allow for flexible movement. The warrior women had found just the right size for her and it fit her like a glove. "And you've got that," the blonde daughter of Admiral Arn pointed out.

Jane did her best to clamor to her feet, but the armor weighed a ton. She started to stand several times and she teetered and tottered and fell back over on the bench. Finally, she managed to push herself off of the bench from a crouching position. She found her feet and held herself upright. Her arms flapped at her sides as she tried to hold her balance. "Oh my goodness, this armor is suffocating," she said as she tried to wedge her finger into a few spaces and gaps in the armor. They were few and far between as every inch of her body seemed to be covered and protected. "I think I need more than just to look the part of a warrior, Sigyn," Jane expressed frantically. "I need to have actual skills," she pointed to herself.

"You've got skills," Sigyn flagged.

"No, I don't," Jane shook her head. Her voice shook. "No, I don't. No, I don't" she murmured. "I'm just a scientist," she went on.

"Yes, Jane, you're the scientist who came up with a plan that could save us all! It's because of you that we have gotten this far. If it wasn't for you...we...we... we would have all despaired. I can't thank you enough for this marvelous contraction of yours," She immediately threw her arms around her human friend.

"Oh Sigyn," Jane said as she broke away from the friendly embrace. "I don't know if this is really going to work. There are a million and one tests that I probably should have run. If the rods short circuit in the middle of the battle..."

"They won't..."

"But if they do?" Jane worried her lip. "It'll be all my fault. It'll be all my fault that all of this beauty and splendor will have come to an end. It'll be my fault that your world and my world and all of the Nine Realms will have been destroyed." Jane Foster's eyes filled with water. Her gut bubbled.

Sigyn shook her head. She rubbed her hands over Jane's thin shoulders. She cooed with pursed lips, "Nononono..."

"Yes, yes, it will be," Jane nodded and she swallowed the thick lump in her throat. She tried to control it as best as she could, but she could no longer hold back the flood gates. Tears washed down her face unabashedly and they left her skin streaked like war paint. "I can't! I can't," she gasped and she clutched at her stomach. "I can't live with that," she gulped for breath. "I can't live with...Thor..." the words got choked up and lost in her throat.

"No. No." Sigyn assured her. "Jane you mustn't feel that way. That is not true. If you go out there and you fight hard and you fight for truth and for justice and to save the people that you love then there is no fault in that."

"But Sigyn," Jane said her brown eyes darting about. She leaned close to the maiden and whispered in her ear. She didn't want the other's to hear. "I've been running the math and doing the figures and the odds are so low. Nearly, insurmountable!"

"I know," Sigyn nodded. "But it won't be your fault. If we don't win the day. It just wasn't meant to be..." Sigyn stated strongly as she turned away from facing Jane's tormented eyes.

Jane's face quirked. "How can you say..."

"We in Asgard have known this prophecy all our lives. Ragnarok may be inescapable. That's no one's fault," Sigyn said as she bit her lip. "And if it is someone's then maybe it is mine," she said while she played with her fingers.

"How can you say that?" Jane asked stepping closer toward her. Her hand hovered over Sigyn's shoulder.

"I could have ended it...I could have ended it all," Sigyn sloppy, muddy golden tresses slapped Jane in the face as she spun around on her heels.

"You couldn't rescue, Thor..."

"No, but I could have killed, Loki" Sigyn confessed in a whisper. Her eyes were as large as saucers and filled with fresh, salt tears.

Jane staggered backward. Her head wagged. Her lips twisted and moved soundlessly for a minute as she struggled to try and form one coherent word. "What?" she finally managed a breathless squeak. Her brown eyes got wide as she stared at the other woman.

Sigyn started to cry, "I'm sorry," Sigyn covered her face with her hands.

"Sigyn, I don't understand?" Jane shook her head in disbelief., "How? What do you mean?"

"We fought..."

"You fought?" the scientist echoed. Sigyn kept talking, but Jane missed part of what she was saying. It kept surprising her how much of a fighter Lady Sigyn had proven to be. She didn't seem the warrior type, bright and bubbly, petite in stature. Jane had to remind herself that everyone in Asgard fought. Whether that was their profession was a choice, but fighting was their life-blood. "Sigyn why?"

"I had to! I had to try to stop him. I went there to fulfill a promise. I had to try. I had to try, don't you see," she pleaded still sobbing. "I had to try to give him the letter...the letter about the baby," she went on. "I thought... I thought, maybe it would change him. Maybe he would change," she shook her head bitterly.

Jane gripped her by the shoulders. "Sigyn, look at what he's done! He's a madman! He's a monster! He'll never change!"

"I know, I know," Sigyn bobbed her head. The tears continued to tumble from her eyes. "I'm such a fool! I'm such a fool!" she protested and started to slap herself against the forehead. She pounded her head repeatedly, her face turned red.

Jane rushed to grab her hands. "Sigyn, stop!" she cried as she pulled the hands back down toward the woman's side. "it's ok, it's ok," she insisted.

"No, it's not," the golden-locked Aesir woman shot back. "It's my fault! I shoulder have killed him...I think...I...I've never killed...I've never killed someone I've known...someone...I loved...I" Sigyn paused, her breath hitched. She hiccupped and gulped in Jane's presence. Her amber-eyes swimming with turmoil and tears and confusion.

Jane didn't understand. She didn't understand how someone as sweet and good and kind and Lady Sigyn could love someone as twisted as Loki. Maybe Sigyn was under some type of spell or maybe she had been made to drink some sort of love potion. There was a time when she would have completely rejected the notion of a love potion as nothing but lunacy and fantasy, but that was before. "You tried. You tried to help him. Your heart was in the right place. It's just, Sigyn, some people can't be saved," Jane wrapped her arms around Sigyn's shivering shoulders. "Some people aren't good. Some people are evil. Look at everything he's done...the things that he still plans to do..."

"I could have stopped it, with one blow...I could have..."

Jane waved her hands..."It's in the past now, Sigyn," Jane expressed.

"But it just happened..." the beautiful, blonde woman protested.

"It doesn't matter...it's in the past," Jane said as she imitated a certain cartoon primate. She put on a smile. Sigyn rubbed watery eyes, but looked completely confused. Jane shook her head, "Nevermind," she chuckled. "It's from a movie..." the auburn-haired scientist shrugged.

"A movie? Like a holo-drama?"

"I guess," Jane nodded. "Anyway, Sigyn, It doesn't matter what you did. The fight is ahead of us," jane expressed.

"That's right," Sigyn proclaimed. "We'll win the day or we'll die trying," She said as she dried her eyes.

"Let's give 'em hell, " Jane said as she reached out her hand to shake Sigyn's.

The two women locked hands in a firm handshake. "You sure will," Sigyn promised. "With these," she said a swung the quiver from her back. She then placed the silk quiver full of the most exquisite golden arrows in Lady Jane's hand. Her bow was inside the quiver too.

"Sigyn, what are these?" Jane's eyes darted back and forth between the pretty, but smudged and scarred face of Lady Sigyn and the weapons.

"My arrows."

"I can't take these," she immediately pushed them back into Sigyn's hands. Sigyn halted her and shoved them right back at her. "Sigyn, don't be ridiculous, I can't take these...I...I don't even know how to use them!"

"That's the beautiful thing about these arrows," Sigyn winked. "You don't to," she explained. "These arrows are enchanted," she said whispering into Jane's ears. "They never miss," she expressed. Jane was still trying to push the arrows back into the Lady Sigyn's hands. Sigyn shook her head and wrapped Jane's hand tighter around one of the arrows. "They can't miss," she told her. "Set your sights on a target and these arrows won't fail you."

"But I should at least know how to shoot an arrow..." Jane protested. Just then Sigyn got behind Lady Jane. "What are you doing?" Jane asked nervously as she felt her limbs being negotiated in different positions. Sigyn gently nudged Jane's feet into a different stance. She placed them firmly so that one foot was in front of the other. She placed the bow in her hand and slipped an arrow between her forefinger, middle finger and thumb snuggly and pulled back tightly on the bowstring and allowed Jane to hold it. Jane was surprised by how strong the string was. It was thicker than she'd imagined and arrow's bowstring would be. She'd thought it would be flimsy and easily pop, but it was sturdy as an oak. As Jane felt Sigyn's hand tilt her shoulder up and up in the most unnatural and uncomfortable positions she was momentarily able to note the fine craftsmanship of the martial instrument. The curve of the ivory bow was exquisite and nearly sensual. It was intricately designed with ornate carvings and some small jewels. The actual arrow was no less appealing. They were made of solid gold, bright and shiny.

"Showing you how to shoot an arrow," Sigyn giggled girlishly as she left Jane in her new pose and tip-toed around the front so that she could get a better look at her. Jane looked quite awkward standing there in the Valkyrie armor, The armor was already far too heavy for the mortal and being that her limbs were rather short having her elbow stretched show high over her head wasn't exactly a model pose. Jane's teeth were gritted and her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to hold fast to the bow and arrow, her fingers were unused to the position and wearing the metal gauntlet hard to grasp.

"I'm not going to be able to do it," Jane explained.

"Of course you will." Sigyn's straight teeth beamed through a dirty face. "I'm telling you these arrows won't fail," she reminded her with a snap of her fingers. "I won a tournament against some of the best archers across the Nine Realms with these arrows," She pointed a thumb at herself.

"It probably wasn't any magic, though," Jane rebutted. "You're a skilled archer," she announced. "You were good enough to compete in a tournament and represent Asgard all on your own. I bet you're a regular Hawkeye," Jane expressed.

"Hawkeye?" Sigyn scratched her head.

"He's one of the Avengers..." Jane went on.

Avengers? Avengers? Sigyn had definitely heard that name before. She kept scratching her head. Then her large eyes flung open even wider. "Oh! 'Earth's Mightiest Heroes'" Sigyn quoted. "The team that stopped Loki when he was trying to take over Midgard."
"Yes, exactly," Jane nodded. "Well, Hawkeye is a great marksman..." Jane went on.

"Well, I'm sure he's much better than me if he can fight with Prince Thor," Sigyn pointed out. "Norns! I wish we had them to help us here!"

"We could really use their help," Jane admitted. But wishing did very little. She was scientist and she knew that wishes were futile. They didn't have the Avengers, they didn't even have Prince Thor. But they did have themselves and that was all they could rely on now. "But we don't have them," She said as she finally lowered her arm from a shooting stance. "And we don't have much time," Jane explained as she looked around. The Aesir scholars were starting to line up to lead the citizens with the reactors out.

"That's right," Sigyn responded and nodded her head. "That's why I give you these arrows...you take them... you go...you won't be a sitting duck...you can go and be our Hawkeye," she winked.

Jane shook her head with a small smile on her face. She bit her lip. She looked down at the weapons that Sigyn had placed in her hand. So beautiful and yet so lethal. She didn't want to rely on enchantments or such things as that. That was frivolous and unscientific, but everything that was unraveling before her was marvelous and unscientific. As a scientist, she didn't believe in luck. She believed in skill and planning and study. They had that. The warriors were skilled and the scholars of Asgard and herself had studied, but she supposed that a little luck couldn't hurt. "But what about you?" Jane questioned. She arched her eyebrow.

"Don't worry," Sigyn clapped her hand on Jane's shoulder. "I have this!" Sigyn expressed as she exposed the hilt of a sword. "It'll work," Sigyn inclined her head once more toward her beloved arrows.

"How can you be sure?" Jane's voice was hushed. "Maybe it only works for you..."

Sigyn shook her head. She swallowed. Her muddy, golden locks slapped her in the face. "It'll work," Sigyn continued. "It was enchanted by Asgard's greatest wizard," she explained.

Once again Jane's eyes dilated. Her breath hitched, "Loki," she uttered the monster's name and it left a bad taste in her mouth. Just speaking his name tasted like bile and stale gum. She watched as Sigyn dropped her head.

Lady Sigyn hadn't wanted to say. She hadn't wanted to tell Lady Jane. But she didn't tell. Jane guessed. She should have known the woman would guess, she was smart. Smarter than her. She didn't want to run the risk that Jane wouldn't take the arrows, knowing who they were from. "Loki enchanted them so that I wouldn't lose the tournament," Sigyn explained.

Jane's petite features quirked and twisted, "He cheated?" she was aghast.

Sigyn allowed a smirk to trace over her dirty face. "It might not be the worst thing that he's done," she shrugged.

Jane's face formed a frown. No, it certainly wasn't the worst thing that that slimeball had done, but it just showed how dishonest and despicable he was from the beginning. "Loki is very prideful," Sigyn Arndottir explained. "He hates to lose. Though he lost enough I suppose, growing up?" the Aesir maiden shrugged. Jane recognized a trace of pity in her tone. She couldn't understand that. "He would never do something halfway when his own reputation was on the line." Sigyn nodded slowly and there was a tear in her eyes. "It'll work," she reiterated. "Do you trust me?"

Jane bobbed her head. There was a newly formed lump in her throat. "Of course, Sigyn. You've been a friend to me since day one. Besides, Thor... you're... the person that I trust the most on Asgard," she said and almost laughed.

"Then you'll take them? You'll use them? I...I...I just wouldn't feel safe with you on the battlefield without a proper weapon," Sigyn went on.

Jane wrapped her hands tightly around the brace of the bow and a few of the arrows, "Alright, alright...yes...I will," she finally agreed. Sigyn beamed back at her with a gorgeous smile that was plain to see despite the dirt that marred her face. The two women, both in love with princes of Asgard gave each other one last fond hug. They held each other tightly and protectively for some time. Jane trembled and Sigyn felt the hot tears on her cheek.

"Careful," the Aesir maiden warned her. "You don't want the armor to rust and get the helmet stuck," she chided as she finally broke the embrace. She flicked Jane's tears away still smiling. "Thank you," she mouthed to Lady Jane.

Jane was confused. What reason did Sigyn have to thank her? "No, thank you." She wanted to say more. Needed to say more. But there was a mighty trumpet blast. Jane saw that some of Asgard's minstrels had taken the tops of the steps and the podiums. They were playing their horns. They were wonderfully, weirdly twisted rams horns. Their sounds were strong and hollow and melodious.

"It's time," Sigyn said as she heard the pitches play in the sound of a familiar song. "It's time to take up arms," she declared and she raised the sword that she had.

"To arms," Jane confirmed and raised the beautiful bow in the 's arms were trembling as they parted ways. "Sigyn!" she called out, but Sigyn had already taken several rapid steps toward the door. The blonde-haired lady-in-waiting to Queen Frigga froze, turned around and waved back at Jane. "Be safe!" she called out once more, but she was afraid that in the hustle and bustle and the movement of so many people join with their parties and companies and groups and rankings that Sigyn didn't hear her. They parted they both walked away to join their respective parties.

Sigyn continued to try to wave to Lady Jane over the crowd of Aesir desperate to get through and get to their places. They came in a wave, in a flood, pushing and shoving the petite daughter of Admiral Arm out of the way. They were barking out orders, shouting, some crying as they parted from their loved ones and friends. Sigyn thought that she caught a glimpse of her beautiful bow held high over the heads of the busy crowd. But truly it was impossible to tell. There were so many bows. She didn't know she couldn't be sure.

"Lady Sigyn! C'mon! Snap to!" a young warrior told her as he grabbed her hand and yanked her to follow behind him. "We've got to get to the front with those who are going to be captured. When need to make it look like there are as many of us as possible," he stated. " The more of us they see the less likely they are to look for the others," he explained as he escorted her out and with the other of their division. She stumbled behind him nearly getting trampled as people rushed about.

The rams horns continued to play and they were joined in with other instruments, lutes and harps and lyres all soon became a part of the ensemble. There was so much noise and activities as the remaining citizens scurried here and scuttled there that the melodious sound of the instruments could scarcely be heard. The beauty of the old Aesir hymn. The song of their ancestors was nearly drowned out.

Sigyn Arnodittir kept trying to look behind her to see if she could see Jane one last time. She sure did want to see the mortal woman one last time. She sure hoped that the young astrophysicist survived. In the scheme of an Aesir's life, Jane would have only been a child. Such a short amount of time the mortals had. It was pitiable, but even by the standards of humans, Jane would have died young. She could only imagine how frightening it would have been for Jane to die in Asgard on another realm. A human did not travel the realms. Sigyn had given her what she could to keep her safe. The arrows were enchanted, they would not fail. Loki was too good. Too astute and too powerful a mage to let that happen, but she wished that her only reason for giving Lady Jane the arrows and bow was so that she could be safe.

Truth was, that she was grateful to Jane. Jane spared her the cruelest of ironies. She would not have to take the responsibility for killing Loki with the weapon that he enchanted. He deserved it. He deserved it plain and simple. He deserved to die by his own machinations and devices and schemes. But she didn't want to be the one to bring him to such a just end. She knew that that made her weaker and that made her a fool.

---

He emerald-eyed mage returned back to his study. He slammed the large black oak door behind him. He rested his head there. He was so tired. So very, very, very tired. He was panting, eyelids flapping, spine-shivering with fatigue. In exhaustion, he rested his back against the frame of the large door and slid down to the sat on the cold tile floor. There he rested for just a few minutes. He thought to rest his eyes for, but a moment, but as he tried to blink away the strong, warm feelings of sleep that threatened to overtake him he saw his hourglass sitting on the table. He saw the way that the black sand was slipping and slithering through the narrow chasm and filling up the bottom half of the hourglass. Loki gasped as if he had been drowning. He hadn't the time to take a little nap.

He immediately looked down at his hands. His hands were shaking as they held his spoils. A slick smile came over his handsome, but haggard face. He looked down at the bark of Everwood. He had cut off a piece for a tree in his mother's garden. Mother had grown a beautiful Everwood tree. It's shade cast long shadows, It's trunk was gnarled and twisted so beautifully like a woman's braided tresses. It had a rich color like a fine, rich birch. Inside of the bark, there were swirls, lovely intricate swirls of gold. Everwood was nearly indestructible. It could grow forever and never rot. Then in his left hand, he held a sack of platinum coins. He had gotten them from Odin's treasure vault. The reserves that were held for thousands of years wear the tribute of kingdoms and empires were kept. There were treasures there was vast and so beautiful that they could drive a man crazy. The sack seemed like it would be enough to use to meltdown and overlay the Everwood. Loki sat both of his procured items aside and then from underneath his tunics he pulled out a marvelous, glowing, cobalt cube. Loki's smile deepened.

He stared at the cube intently. For so long, it had been his prize. He'd done all sorts of crazy and unspeakable things for this little trinket over the years. He was youth pinning away for a bit of it, the tesseract talisman that had been the prized position in Odin's treasure room for so many years. He'd connived a child for a way into the Nornish king's trove to learn how to wield such power. He'd stolen knowledge from the vault of time (a crime that was surely punishable by death) He'd spoken out of turn to his the all-father, king of Asgard, his father, protesting and begging to be granted access to the tiny fragment of the powerful gem. He'd acted like a petulant child. He supposed had he been younger, had Odin been younger than the incident might have ended in a bit of a thrashing, but he is too old and so is Odin. He contradicted his father, the great king something that he thinks few have done and actually lived to tell about. And then Thanos found him and convinced him, coerced him, but maybe it wasn't so much of coercion as maybe he'd like to have believed. Thanos hadn't needed to say much to spark the old desires that had once burned within him. He'd sought the cube for Thanos. He'd sought the cube for himself. And he'd procured it and he'd killed for it. Coldblooded and coldhearted he'd done then unspeakable for the infinity stone. And even still it hadn't really been his. All he'd done it had never really been his. It had all been for Thanos. And now, perhaps, in that moment as he looked down at his long, bony fingers as the edges and the tips of them touch the corners of the cube, as the glow reflected off of his pale flesh and turned it blue and reminded him of the disgraceful being that he really was, he was convinced that this was the craziest thing he had ever done for the tesseract. To double-cross Thanos...to keep the Mad Titan from his prize, that was the most foolhardy and idiotic thing that any person could do...it was suicide.

He stared into the cube. Light radiated deep from inside of it. A horrid blue face stared back at him. It was appalling and ugly. A face like Laufey. A face like a monster. A face like a demon. It smiled at him tauntingly. He could hear it starting to laugh at him and mock him. He couldn't look deep into the eye of the cube any longer. It was too monstrous. Too hideous. "This is madness," Loki muttered to himself. A shudder ran down his spine. Something in the back of his mind or perhaps something...someone...from deep within the Tesseract seemed to say,

"Yes, it is! Of course, it is! Look at you! Look at what you truly are! It was growling and hissing and biting."Look! LOOK! LOOKI!" the all too familiar serpentine voice started to demand. Loki shook his head. He mashed his lips together and squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. "This is what you are! You're a monster. Everyone knows it! Look at all the terrible things that you have done. They'll never forgive you. You'll never fit in...you'll never be able to belong. No matter what you'll die like a dog...you'll only be executed."

"Maybe...I...banished..." the words came out as choppy as his thoughts.

"You're such a naïve dreamer! You're weak and pathetic!" The voice growled at him once more. "You fool!" it yelled out. "Even if then Aesir did let you live. Thanos will kill you...he'll kill you 1000 times and make you suffer. The voice reminded him.

Loki's breath hitched. His pulse quickened. His silver tongue was as dry as burnt wood. He breathed. He tried to breathe slowly and easily. "it doesn't matter now," he repeated.

"Of course it does!" the voice of his old foe taunted him. "Because you're a monster, just like me," he could hear the was the voice was smiling. He practically saw the scales on the old serpent's mouth slithering up the corners to form its hideous smile over its pointed teeth. "Monsters have few motives in life. Eat, sleep, kill, destroy, survive." It whispered. "Come, come now Loki, you know you want to survive. You've put in so much work. Is it all simply to come to naught? All that you have won only to die?"

Loki's piercing green eyes finally snapped open. He had won. He had truly finally won. For years now he'd thought of nothing but this day. When he, Loki would stand overall. For centuries he'd imagined what it would really be like to be king of Asgard. To take the crown and wear the title of all-father. He had thought of little else for most of his life but having the opportunity to beat Thor and be seen beating him. "Yes, that's it come...come...remember all that you've worked so hard for. Aren't you far too clever to let it all go to waste...to just lay down and die." Loki did remember. He remembered in such vivid detail that burning desire and that passion for power. He could feel it churning and bubbling rising up within him once more. A longing so deep within like a pregnancy craving. Something that made you insatiable until you had it. He could nearly taste it once again...delectable to the palate. But like the most fickle of brides even after he had what he had desired so, he was not satisfied. He was on the cusp of his day of glory, but it wasn't at all as he had imagined it would be.

He shook his head and cleared the twisted voice from ringing in his ears. "Dying is the day worth living for," he replied. With that, the voice faded. It hissed and fussed and fizzled away angrily. But it faded. The voice faded and Loki flicked his wrist and caused the Tesseract to simply vanish within thin air. Loki proceeded to get dressed. He needed to look his best.

He pressed his way off of the floor. He stood to his feet and made his way toward the closet that he had in his study. His study possessed a walk-in closet, the same as his chamber. He spent so much time in his study. He often fell asleep there so he had some of his best robes kept in there. Loki went into his closet. He found tunics and armor there. He sifted through the shirts and trousers and robes. He felt the material between his fingers. He wanted the finest, richest, most ornate pieces of fabric. If today was to truly be his moment of glory he needed to look every inch the rightful king of Asgard. He found the perfect tunic. One made of deep emerald velvet that was plush and tender to the touch. It had gold and silver strands woven into it that made it shine and look even more luxurious. He then found a pair of trousers black as night thick and heavy made of leather on the outside but smooth and fine satin on the inside. Loki slipped into the regal tunics. Threw a surcoat over him one of burnished gold. He wrapped a belt around his waist one that could hold his daggers, his throwing stars, and his sword.

Next, he went to look at his actual armor. He noted the breastplates and the armguards and leg guards, He had one made of black gold and intertwined with regular gold. The two rare metals blended with each other in a beautiful pattern like tiger stripes. His hands felt over the armor. Gold to touch, but smooth. It hardly had any scars on it from battle. Thor had given it to him. He had just made it to the ranks of Einherjar then. It made him smile to remember the times before. He was young. A gifted mage and scholar and he was a strong warrior, but he was bony, frail and sickly. No one took him seriously as a fighter. Truly he hadn't even know if he really wanted to be an Einherjar, war campaigns weren't exactly his forte. he preferred diplomacy and words to settle disputes, but every prince of Asgard since the time of the Einar had always served as an Einherjar. If he didn't serve he'd be a disgrace, but honestly, he hadn't known which was worst, the dishonor of not serving or disgrace of not being fit to serve. He was so nervous when he went to the Einherjar games to compete against other young hopefuls. Thor helped him get ready for battle. "What if I lose," he muttered out loud as a servant and his brother helped him into his armor.

"You won't lose, " Thor warned him as he fitted the shoulders of the armor on his brother's narrow frame. "You're a son of Odin. You'll be an Einherjar, Loki same as me," Thor guaranteed him.

"The other hopefuls are younger...if I lose...I'll be a disgrace," he mumbled. "I'll bring shame on the house of Odin," he explained and looked up at his older brother with eyes swelling.

"You will not fail!" Thor told him sternly and took him by the shoulders. "Look!" Thor said as he turned around quickly and reached into a satchel and pulled out the breastplate. It was one of the most splendid coats of arms Loki had ever seen. The black and the gold swirling on top of each other in an intricate design. It was a masterpiece. Loki's hands reached out to skim the fine armor. "I commissioned it to be made for you," he explained. "See, it pairs with mine," Thor went on to explain as he gestured to his own breastplate that he was wearing. Thor's armor was engraved with the image of a lion for Thor was called the Lion of Asgard. "I figured what pairs better with a lion than a tiger," Thor shrugged and flashed a boyish smile in his younger brother's direction.

"Thor, I...I...I" the young silver-tongued prince stammered. "I don't know what to say," he confessed.

"Don't say anything," Thor stated. "Put it on," he offered and practically pushed the armor into Loki's hands.

Loki shook his head. He took a step back. "No, not yet," he insisted.

"What do you mean?" The blonde-haired son of Odin countered with a laugh.

"Because I need to prove myself worthy of it," Loki insisted. "I need to prove that I can truly fight like a true so of Odin and a brother of the mighty Thor," Loki stated proudly as he raised a fist in the air.

Thor playfully slapped him across the cheek before he grabbed him by the neck and pulled him in closer. He held his brother's gaze. "Then go out there and win," he admonished. "Make me and father proud," he encouraged.

The younger of the two Odinsons nodded. He finished dressing and brandished his weapons and readied himself to head out into the arena with all the other young hopeful contenders who were sitting in the stands waiting for their turn to prove themselves the best of the best. Just before he exited he turned back to his brother, "Brother," he called back to Thor. "Will you keep the armor for me, until I come back from basic training?" he asked.

Thor nodded. "Yes, we'll wear our arms together and ride through the streets for your victory parade!" the crown prince declared.

It was an impressive coat of arms, but it was not the one meant for this occasion. He needed something different. He moved through his closet with ease. He kept looking at the different suits. He had a vintage one made of sterling silver. One of his uncle's Frigga's eldest brother, Broderick had sent it to him for his birthday many many centuries back. It had apparently belonged to Frigga's grandfather. It was an antique. A family heirloom. It dated back to the time even before King Bor. Mother's family was very proud of it. He felt proud that they had chosen to bestow the gift upon him. Usually, gifts like this would be given to Thor or Broderick could have given it to his own children. But inside the armor was engraved the name Jarl. His own middle name. He hadn't known he had been named after his great grandfather until he had received the gift. The armor was in good condition despite how old it was. He took care to have it mended and welded and restored. It shined like a silver coin straight from the mint. It was simple in form. All points and angles, not as streamlined as the new coats. The helmet that went with it was made of fur and animal bone. It was old Viking wear and befitting for a knight who lived in the mountains. Loki scrunched up his nose. He didn't want to go and parade himself before all of Asgard like an old barbarian. Though truth be told that's probably all any of them considered him now.

He found a special armor. One he had never worn. It was a ceremonial suit. Gorgeous in its craftsmanship, but completely impractical for battle. Of course, it was. It was meant for a day of love not a day of war. It was a wedding uniform. He'd had it made by one of the best designers in all Asgard. He'd spent a fortune for the perfect coat of arms for his big day with Angrboda. But two weeks before their nuptials he found out what she really was. She was a traitor and spy, an evil witch. She committed treason, she'd sold secrets about Asgard to their mortal enemies, the Jotuns. She deserved to be put to death. All of Asgard clamored for her death. As Prince of Asgard and the discoverer of her vile betrayal, he had the rights of first blood. He had the right to have her head and put her to death. It was expected that she would be executed right in the square. But he couldn't do it. Boda was banished and sent to live in exile. To most of Asgard, this had simply confirmed how weak he was. As he gazed at the armor, he thought that he and Boda weren't really so different after all. Both of them had committed treason against the crown and against the realm, both of them had plotted and schemed and hurt the people that loved them to feed their own ambition and greed. They were exactly like he thought. Accept he was so much worst. Boda had been thwarted. He'd found out what she was and stopped her, but he had gotten away with it. He'd gone through with it all the way...completely. The citizens of Asgard would demand his death. Hell, they already had demanded his death, but there would be no one left to speak up for him, to beg for mercy or offer him life in prison or exile. All he'd receive would be the axe. Loki reflexively reached for his porcelain throat. He massaged his neck. His adam's apple bobbed as he thought of the swift blade against his spine. No. He shook his head. This wasn't about him. This wasn't about his neck. This was about Thor's. Thor, innocent Thor. He couldn't let his head roll.

Finally, his jade eyes landed on his finest military regalia. His favorite. He saw his proud helmet with the sweeping golden horns that crowned him like the crest of a dragon. The same that he procured from the Temple of Tribute centuries ago. With the breastplate that was made of the purest 14 karat gold and breast reinforced with iron so that it was near impenetrable. His hands immediately reached for the breastplate. It was heavy and solid. His finger traced the insignia that was dead in the center of the chest. His forefinger ran around the symbol, the three triangle interloping points. His hand followed the pattern like a figure-skater dancing across the ice. It was beautiful. It was the symbol of Asgard and the Royal Family. It dated back to the time of the Einar. Some said that the loops symbolized the mountain peaks. Odin taught them that it represented everything that Asgard stood for. Thor had the same symbol on his hammer. That those values could never be destroyed never be undone and never disconnected. He must have traced the symbol 50 times. He then picked up his bracers and shoulder pads. They were impressive and solid looking. They were fashioned with beautiful gold, burnished brass and bronze, and sterling silver. They bore his insignias of the intertwined serpents that represented his powers as an enchanter and the design of a dire-wolf that represented him as a warrior.

He hadn't time to lavish and lather himself. He slipped off his garments. He quickly moved his fresher and pulled some ointments from the bottles of the shelves. He was normally neat and meticulous with his dressing. This time he quickly, pulled the cork from the vial. He dumped the oil over his head. He let it run out all over his body. It glupped-glupped-glupped as it chugged out of the bottle. It made him slick and smooth so that when he put on the coarse leather and burlap and chain-mail that it wouldn't chafe. It dripped down his pointed features and ran into his eyes nearly blinding him. He quickly swiped the thick yellow oil from resting heavy on his eyes. He barely took time to dab himself with a towel before he reached up for another small flat metal jar. Inside was a balm made of peppermint, extract for the seeds of Idunn's apples and angel root. It was a potent repellent against injury in battle. Loki had made it himself. Normally, before the battle, he would douse himself in the ointment. He didn't have the time and honestly, he didn't feel worthy. He didn't deserve to be protected from the horrors that he'd forced others to come to endure. He shook his head and dipped two fingers into the tub. He slapped a big thick glob and slapped it in the palm of his right hand, he rubbed his palms together and barely smeared any of the ointment across his long, lanky body.

He moved the fresher and he quickly splashed cold water on his face. It woke him up for just a moment. He slicked back his hair to make it fit neatly beneath his helmet. He started to slip on the proper undergarments to wear with armor. Then he pulled on the thick leather pants and covered himself in the metal mesh and chain-mail tunics. He fitted himself with each piece of his armor until he was fully dressed for war.

Once he was dressed Loki darted back to his laboratory. Heavy boots stomping and he nearly tripped as he rushed about. He went over to the machine. He looked at the progress. The jewel, The Eye of the Tiger, had shrunken greatly in size, but the stone was so big. He had known it would take more than an hour to melt it down completely. It was wishful thinking at best to have even supposed that it might be done. Loki's green eyes darted back to the hourglass. He was down to minutes. His mind raced. He was so tired and frantic. There was no time. He had to do something. Needed to do something. Out of his window, he thought he could see the few faintest rays of light trying to peak their way through the thick heavy clouds of Aether ash and symbolize the dawn.

Loki immediately thrust his hands on top of the ruby that was sizzling away in the machine. It scalded his hands. He let out a yell and a gasp for but a moment and then blew on his hand with a cooling breath just before setting his palms on fire and allowing them the press down on the gem. The ruby was being heated from top to bottom. Loki superheated his flame making it as hot as he could possibly stand and it cooked and boiled the gem. It melted it down even more rapidly. Loki watched as more and glittery, red liquid formed at the basin of the machine. It formed in big heaping pools. Loki knew that he would have to separate the properties by hand most likely, but at least if he could get it completely boiled down the rest should be easy. Loki kept applying the pressure of his flame on top of the ruby. "Come on! Come on! Come on!" he pleaded in a strained whisper. His brow furrowed and sweaty as he tried to burn through the core of the priceless ruby.

The ruby had melted down to about the size of a golf ball. Loki gave it his all. He was panting and breathless with concentration. Eyes squeezed shut. His palms consumed in an inferno. It was becoming so hot that the whole room was starting to fill with heat and smoke. Loki pressed further made the fire larger. "There...there...almost..." he muttered as more and more of the jewel extract pooled around the bottom of the machine. He was hunched over and practically falling on his knees.

He heard a knock on his door. It was quick and rapid. His emerald eyes flung open. It broke his concentration. The fire died in his hands, but the machine kept humming. He turned toward the door. "King Loki," the Dark-Elf called. "It's time."

---

n the darkness of the lowest cell in the Palace dungeon Thor remained bound and chained. Thor laid flat on his back in the darkness on the dirty floor made of rubble and hay. He shivered and thrashed and bucked on the ground. He was desperate to move but unable to do so. He was far too tied up... His wrists and ankles were bound with heavy chains of iron. His bare feet wriggled and merely kicked up dust. He was gagged and blindfolded. His lips were bloodied and swollen. He moaned and groaned in pain. The cell was cold and drafty and the frigid air stung his open wounds and the hay and dirt and grime were getting into his sores and wounds causing infection to surge throughout his body.

He was in so much excruciating pain. None of his wounds had been tended to. His cracked ribs, broken leg, dislocated shoulder, and concussion had all been left to their own devices and to only get worse. Thor kept trying to move kept trying to break free of his binds, but he couldn't. The chains weighed him down as if he was trying to lift a bilgeschnipe off of the ground. He couldn't even lift his head. He felt as helpless as a babe. And desperate, like a child in need, unable to do anything for themselves. He started to scream out. Thor did his best, he started screaming through the bloodied rag that was wrapped around his mouth. Thor let out several raw and ragged shrieks from his gagged lips. He cried out helplessly until his throat was sore.

His head thrashed side to side in the mud. The mud slapped him in the face. His long blonde hair was so caked with mud that he looked like a brunette. Eventually, Thor stopped his pathetic attempts to scream out. He wanted to believe that he was simply screaming out from the searing pain that seemed to course through every fiber of his being, but deep in his heart, he knew that he was even more pitiful than that. He knew it. He was crying out for help. Help that was never going to come. It was ridiculous. Who did he honestly think was coming to help him? There were no palace guards to come to his rescue. No Einherjar. His friends weren't around. He hoped by the branches of Yggdrasil that they were still alive. He hoped that they were well not hurt or injured or fighting for their lives like him, but they couldn't help him. Sigyn, sweet as she was, she had tried to help him... she had been his only hope and she was gone. No doubt she had fled for her life and rightfully so. Who was he screaming out to? The Dark-Elves were a pitiless race. They were heartless and soulless, just like their black eyes suggested. They'd have no mercy on him. That only left Loki...

"AAARRRRRRGGGHHHH!" Thor growled through his teeth that were clenched around the blood gag. He bit down so hard that his mouth started bleeding even more. His swollen lips dripped with red liquid. It started pooling in his mouth. Filling it up. It gathered in the back of his throat and clogged his airway. Thor started to panic. He couldn't breathe. The blood bubbled as he tried to huff gurgling breaths out his lungs to clear his head. He squirmed and fidgeted. He rocked back and forth. The chains held fast to him and tried to hold him down. Frantically with all the strength he could muster he finally managed to roll over onto his side, he entangled himself deeper in the chains, but in his desperation, for breath, he didn't care. The pressure was enough to expel the blood from getting lodged in his lungs and suffocating him. It sloppily spewed forth in a cough. It splayed all over him. His heart was beating double time. He was practically hyperventilating. He shook himself rocking just a tiny bit, he was hopeful to twist himself into being flat on his back once more. Instead, he only caused himself to fall face down in the muck. The feeble attempts at movement had exhausted him. They'd taken the wind right out of him. He lied helplessly face down, scarcely even able to turn his head to keep from inhaling the slime.

The on the cold, damp, muddy ground, Prince Thor Odinson sobbed. His tears soaked through the blindfold and ran down his face streaking it like a zebra. What was worst of all was he could hardly even sob. His screams were muffled by the by that horrible rag in his mouth. But still, he couldn't stop the pitiful cries that kept bubbling up from deep inside himself.

Never in his life had he felt so helpless, so hopeless, so useless, defeated and scared. He never had felt helpless before. There had never been a foe that he couldn't vanquish, there'd never been a situation that he couldn't punch his way through, there'd never been a situation that he couldn't find some way to overcome, but this was different. This was the end. He had always had his strength. There were few individuals who were stronger than him. He'd always had his friends, Thor, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three an undefeated fighting force. They had triumphed over so, so many foes. They didn't need a whole army to defeat most of their enemies. He always had his. A gift bestowed on him by his father, by the Norns it was to be used to bring justice to the Nine Realms to strike fear into the hearts of the evil. It was supposed to help people, the poor and downtrodden and bring rain to crops. It was supposed to be a symbol of protection...now he couldn't even wield it. He had tried. He had tried to call it, to summon his weapon, but he couldn't. He was cut off from it. Disconnected. Now, now he didn't know where Mjolnir was or if Loki had found some diabolical way to destroy the hammer. He might as well have been missing a limb. He felt as if part of himself was missing. The closest he had ever felt to this level of powerlessness was when he had been cast out of Asgard. But even then he had had some hope. He couldn't really imagine that his father would have truly abandoned him. Hence his arrogance when he initially arrived. Now his father, well he didn't even know if his was still alive. Thor let out one more painful gasp as he thought of Odin cold and lifeless. It would all be by Loki's doing.

Thor grit his teeth and continued to scream. The thunder's voice strained to produce sound through the cloth, but he kept on groaning and grunting trying to vent his frustration. He tried to summon the lightning and thunder for which he was named hoping that somehow it would shake the very foundations of the cell and set him free. Cry as he might, it didn't work. He was left breathless and he panted beneath the nasty bandana that they had slipped between his lip. Painful silent tears continued to wash unabashedly over his filthy face. Loki. In the past, whenever situations seemed so terribly grim and desperate and all hope was lost he always had Loki. His brother's wit and cunning and clever mind had been things that he'd relied on. He hadn't been able to admit it then, but when all his might had failed them, when acts of brute strength and valor alone weren't enough to overcome their rivals, it had been Loki's wisdom, insight, and skills with trickery that he had turned to save the day. But that had all backfired. It was that very line of thought that had gotten him into this mess. Thinking...that...that even if he gave up his powers...that Loki...would...save them...him...But all along Loki was just a snake in the grass. A cobra waiting to strike and he had struck and his poison ran deep and thick and there was no cure. All of Asgard was going to die and succumb to the venom of Loki's rage and hate. "AHHHHHHHH! LOOOOIIIII" Thor roared to no one as he wallowed.

He hated Loki! He hated him! He hated him with every fiber of his being. He hated him with a hate that was just as fierce and strong as the love he had once had for him. How could Loki do this? How could he have ever called himself an Aesir? He reminded himself that Loki never really was Aesir blood after all. He supposed a Frost Giant would only want to see Asgard fall. How could he have ever called himself Odinson? He had done exactly as a Laufeyson should have he supposed, he had avenged his father. How could he had ever called himself his brother?

Thor tried to take his mind off of Loki for a moment. Although he could picture Loki's face scaly as a dragon, with a serpentine smile slithering up his face, breathing fire and roaring with victory as he flew above an Asgard that was nothing, but ash and rubbish consumed by flame. It made the prince shudder. He wished the die. He prayed to die. He'd rather die than watch Asgard burn. He'd rather die from his wounds right here in his cell than see Loki have the sick satisfaction of executing him. He started to muttered and murmur prayers to the Fates and to the great ancient kings of Asgards past to deliver them from Ragnarok. He pleaded so earnestly, begging, swearing by everything that was good and pure and beautiful and holy, just like his mother and father and priests of Asgard had taught him in his youth, but somehow it seemed too late. For a moment his heart perked as he thought of the idea of friends from Midgard, the Avengers coming to join him and fighting against Loki! They'd beaten Loki and his horde once before. Surely, they could do it again! But they were too far away and there was no way for them to get there. He despaired. Injury and exhaustion took over. He felt his body succumbing. He felt himself drifting away into the deep, darkness of sleep. It was delightful, he longed for it. Perhaps the Fates had taken pity on his sorry plight. Perhaps they intended to let him die right here and now. Thor tried to ease his breathing. He gave into a slow and steady rhythm as he felt every excruciate ache and pain that his broken body had to offer. All the while he could hear the soft sad cry of the Asgardian people singing the song of their ancestors. "Take me in my dream recurring, one more longing backward glance," the mournful ballad played in his ears like a lullaby.

There was light all around him all at once. Thor could tell. He didn't know how long he had been asleep. Maybe it had been a few minutes. Maybe a few hours. It was blissful. For a few moments, he wasn't in agony. And in the sweet unconscious state, he saw Asgard as it had been and should always be, beautiful, golden, radiant. The people of Asgard were there and he saw the by the thousands. They were coming out of their homes in throngs into the streets. They were happy and dancing and laughing and jesting in the streets. Music was playing loud like it was a concert. The streets were filled with candy and confetti and flowers and jewels. They turned on the fountains and filled them with wine and champagne. The sun was warm and the sky was blue and bright. It was a perfect summer day in Asgard. Hot air balloons and solar skiffs floated through the air. Pegasus ponies took to the skies and children flew upon their backs. His father and mother were stepping out onto the balcony and waving to a crowd of thousands below, it was good to see them looking proud and strong and lovely. They seemed so happy. He was there with Lady Jane. They were standing on the balcony with his parents waving to the eager crowd below. Jane looked simply splendid in a regal turquoise gown, decked out with sparkling gold. She looked every inch a true Aesir princess. His friends were there. They were leading a triumphant parade that was marching from the Bifrost to the palace. He could see almost everyone all the leaders of Asgard and friends and family anyone he had ever cared about from his favorite servants to his old tutors... everyone accept...well the latter...well that person didn't really matter anymore.

Light flooded in, all around him. He was drowsy, not quite awake, barely alert, but as the shadow of light registered in his brain. His heart began to flutter with the thoughts that this was it. This was it! Was he about to enter into the golden gates of Valhalla? After his failure...he wasn't sure that he was worthy to reside in the great warriors hall.

Thor hadn't time to think about it much longer. He heard the sound of many boots stomping in military precision toward him. Could it be the Valkyrie of Legend and the Warriors of Old riding out the meet and greet him? He heard the hinges of a gate creak and give way. Could it be that those fabled pearly gates were about to open wide and welcome him? His foggy mind was expectant, hopeful.

All of a sudden he heard the sound of metal crashed against stone. The sound grating and startling. Thor rallied groggily. He thrashed a bit. There was light around him, but he was still blindfolded, unable to see. He bucked and thrashed a bit as he tried to come through. He murmured desperately t the gag. The answer he received was rough hands accosting him on every side. The feel of the hand was like sandpaper scraping against a burn it made him want to cry out, but he couldn't. The roughly yanked him up by his arm, his legs, his back, and his hair. He was bound, but he tried to wriggle free of his captors, his attempts measly and futile. Still, the little resistance that he was able to put up was met with brute force as the nearly strangled and wrestled him back down to the mud.

"HOLD HIM DOWN!" they shouted and cried back and forth to each other in their native tongue. Thor writhed like a blind worm underneath of their boots which stomped him back into the muck and mire. Frantically, his head twisted, he tried to break free. He heard, slow confident footfalls coming his way.

"Rise and shine, your majesty," a cruel, dark voice said as it stepped into the cell. Thor could tell that the speaker wore a smirk on his bloodless lips. He heard the speaker bark out some orders in the language of the Dark-Elves. Quickly, boots were removed from crushing Thor's spine and the grating, sandpaper fingers once again wrapped around his limbs with no regard to his person. They hoisted him so that he was resting on his knees for but a moment. Then they took turns pushing and shoving him back and forth into the dirt in some merciless sport. The chortled and guffawed as the golden prince fell helpless back int the mud over and over unable to even catch himself as his hands were tied behind his back. Finally, they stopped. They pulled him to his knees once more. He was shaking. They snatched the blindfold from his eyes. His eyes were black and swollen, the beauty of the vibrant blue irises no longer visible. His face a scratched-up blood mess. He opened his eyes just barely only to find a gaggle of bloodless faces and black soulless eyes surrounding him. They pointed and jeered as the taunted him. He let out a weak growl as he looked into the wicked face of their brutal leader, Lord Malekith.

The Dark-Elf general had been wearing a grin, but upon seeing the last spark of Asgardian resilience and defiance that still flickered in the son of Odin even after the great humiliation his smile immediately twisted into a deep scowl and his landed a swift, brass-knuckle backhand against Thor's face that sent blood spewing. As Thor's head swung back the crowd of elves cheered. "The hour's late, your royal highness," Malekith sneered. "Nearly dawn," he whispered in a low tone. He leaned in Thor's face. His breath reeked like rotten fruit. It made Thor's head swim even more. "This is the day you've been dying for," his soldiers chortled softly. "Bring him to his feet and get him cleaned up!" Malekith ordered. "Let's make sure Prince Thor is at his best for his big day!"

A/N: WOOHOO! Readers you made it! Give yourselves a round of applause, I know that was a long one. Ok, so I really thought that this was going to be the chapter with the big final battle scene and I wanted it to be. But as mentioned before I kinda got bogged down with a lot of details and I didn't want to edit it again and delay the updating process anymore. And I always say, as I'm writing sometimes the characters have a mind of their own and I'm forced to tell the story the way they want it told. So we are left with just a little more suspense before the battle. But now there is nothing standing in our way between the Asgard and her last stand. I would love to know what you think. So don't be shy. If you have been reading this story this whole time and have never dropped me a line this is your opportunity to. So don't be shy. Once again, readers, I cannot thank you enough for each of your follows, favorites and reviews. They are a constant source of encouragement to me. GOD BLESS YOU!

Kalimecat