Thor Fic: "We Are Our Own Folklore" (R, Loki/Darcy, Thor/Jane), 7a/7

[demonqueen666]

Yikes. Okay, so, for what's it worth, I actually had this story completed and posted to AO3 way back in the middle of January. But re-formatting it for LJ is a bitch and a half and I didn't have the time to devote to that, especially since I don't really get much in the way of feedback over here any more.
I've got another two stories set in this series I've since written that I'll be re-posting here also, but after that I might just continue posting stories in their entirety over on AO3.

LINK TO PART SIX

Title: We Are Our Own Folklore (Part 7: The Death of King Arthur)
Characters: Loki, Thor, Jane, Darcy, Amora, Balder, Sif, Warriors Three, Odin, Frigga, Heimdall, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, original characters; mention of others
Pairings: Loki/Darcy, Thor/Jane, Thor/Amora, Loki/Amora, Volstagg/OC, Amora/OCs, Odin/Frigga
Rating: R for grimness, dark themes, gender weirdness, mild gore, language, mention of character deaths and semi-explicit sexuality
Length: 20,425 words
Summary: After what might seem to some like the world's longest courtship, Loki and Darcy are finally dating, and Thor and Jane are set to be married. But during the engagement party several intervening parties are out to throw a wrench into both relationships in a big way. Some of them are outsiders, but some come from much closer, and through uncomfortable ties to the past.

Notes: Part of my ongoing series. For further notes see part one.

Alternate link to story at AO3; please comment either here or there.


Part 7: The Death of King Arthur

As Thor had described the strange way he’d felt while under the affliction of whatever curse had befallen Jane - detached euphoria, an overwhelming sense of devotion and physical attraction, inability to concentrate - the first thing Loki thought of was Amora.

The second thought Loki had was that he was a fool.

He’d seen the sorceress very early on, long before she could’ve had the chance to enact any scheming. She good as promised to make trouble and knowing her like he did Loki should’ve had his eye out. He should’ve seen whatever it was coming from a mile away.

But for once in his life, Loki had dropped the ball. Problems had mounted, and while certainly capable of looking in more than one direction simultaneously, the grave nature of his family’s troubles distracted him. Nanna and the amount of malice she exposed, the alarming rate at which the danger she posed had rapidly increased, stole his attentions. Loki forgot about Amora completely.

That was a terrible mistake. Clearly Amora had only been waiting for the right moment. For the right ally to open a door.

He was more convinced than ever everything was somehow connected. It would’ve been unthinkable to most that a woman of their aunt’s rank would ever consort with a known traitor like Amora, but Loki wouldn’t put any possibility out of his mind.

He knew desperation was capable of twisting many into becoming strange creatures.

Luckily even while Thor was be-spelled and otherwise ‘occupied’, and Loki gone away, their friends had still paid attention to the palace news. At the mention of Amora’s name they were able to report that the Enchantress had been spotted weeks ago and captured, kept imprisoned in near-isolation to await the All-Father’s justice once the engagement festivities had ceased.

She must have become much stronger than Loki would’ve predicted, to keep her magic active from within a dungeon cell. And to have the kind of forethought for such a scheme showed frankly more cleverness on her part than he’d have thought.

But no matter. He would go to the harlot straight away and figure out what it was she had done and how he could reverse it. Amora would confess her sins, whether or not she cooperated. In fact, he strongly hoped that she didn’t.

He’d warned her to leave Thor alone; that something severe awaited her at his hands if she failed to listen. Loki fully intended to live up to his promise.

But all things in proper order. He and the rest had to get back to Asgard, first.

Their entire group made it through the magical passageway he’d opened together and unscathed. They found themselves in the middle of the long dark confines of the vault containing the most dangerous treasures Odin had collected, surrounded by the recessed hallways and severe staircase that rose high overhead as the only way out.

Even knowing it was safe there was a tension over the warriors of Asgard. Both Sif and Fandral stole looks to the grate that held back the Destroyer.

But sensing no hostile enemies or would-be thieves the sentinel failed to move from its hidden stance.
The ominous room had noticeable effect on the mortals as well. Stark’s face remained hidden, partially propped up by Hogun, but Barton had his bow and an arrow at the ready as he took up a guarding stance and peered into corners, and Rogers’ expression was wary while he looked around.

For his part, Loki turned behind him to the stone plinth that once held the enchanted Casket of Jotunheim. The space was now occupied by a trophy he himself had captured - the blade weapon of the witch named Selene Kinslayer, bound up in ugly black chains - but he barely spared a thought for what his eyes moved over, caught as he was in recollections of the past.

The last time he’d come down here…it seemed like so long ago.

This place held no good memories. The giants he had used and soldiers he had sacrificed to ruin Thor’s coronation. The order he had given the Destroyer to murder his own kin.

And perhaps easily worst of all, when he placed his hands on the Winter Casket and watched his skin warp and twist, learning the terrible truth - the moment when he had lost everything.

No matter whatever else became of him, the anguish he felt that day would never fade completely.

Steve had finished surveying the area and moved closer beside him. “Hey,” he remarked gently, taking note of Loki’s expression, “are you okay?”

Loki put a thin smile onto his face and hid what he was feeling. He lied, “Home always looks different after you’ve been away.”

The soldier nodded with understanding, and reached out a hand, putting it on Loki’s shoulder in an intended gesture of encouragement. “Right.”

Loki turned and put his back to the corner of the room that had held the very beginnings of his despair. “We shouldn’t waste time. The sooner Amora is routed, the sooner all can be made right.”

“The sooner Lady Jane can be put back to being her true self,” Thor added more softly. He took stock of their present companions and frowned over the Iron Man’s state. “You should be taken to the healing room, friend Stark,” he said with concern. “There should be no need for you in the fight to come.”

“What? Come on, I’m fine,” the mortal insisted, though even in his complaints he sounded notably out of breath. “Down but hardly out. I can probably take out what’s-her-face with one arm tied behind my back.”

“The Enchantress should not be underestimated.” Sif cast the princes a loaded glance. “Especially when it comes to her manipulative wiles in using men.”

“Ri-ight.” Stark flipped up his helmet, suddenly looking and sounding far more aware and canny than he had a moment before as he fixated, knowingly, on Thor and Loki. “So which one of you two highly eligible Visigoth bachelors slept with her, back in the day?”

Loki kept his own face perfectly stiff. Thor was much more awkward as a rush of angry color flooded his cheeks.

Unfortunately, apparently both looks spoke loudly in their own ways, and Stark’s eyes flashed with realization.

“My god. You both did.” He clucked his tongue as if scolding naughty schoolchildren. “My, my. Will wonders never cease? And to think we thought you two could never have anything in common.”

“Enough,” Loki ordered, flat, at the same instant a far less than amused Steve said, “Tony, stop it.”

“This is a matter that should be dealt with amongst our own.” Thor spoke loudly as if to drown out his own embarrassment. “While I appreciate all the help you’ve given, my friends,” his gaze bounced between the Avengers, “you should rest. Your aid is not needed here.”

“You sure about that?” Barton’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Whoever she is, it sounds like she can be quite a handful.”

“Well, we’ve faced her before.” Fandral looked between Sif and Hogun, but his smile was confident. “It helps to know it’s her to begin with. The Enchantress’ greatest ally has always been the element of surprise.”

Sif only vaguely hid a scoff. No doubt it was her opinion Amora’s greatest strength lay in her manipulative beauty, or perhaps the simple weakness of men.

“Either way,” Thor’s stormy look to Sif indicated he would appreciate her keeping silent, “we will fight this battle on our own.”

“We can find someone to show you the way to the healers.” Loki glanced at the off-kilter Tony Stark. “After that, you should retire to your rooms. Bathe. Partake in food and spirits. Relax.” A more calculating look he gave to his cousin. “Balder, you should join them.”

“What?” Balder immediately protested. “But Loki, I have not been injured! I’ve no need to rest. Please, let me help.” He held both sword and shield with solid determination as if ready to prove himself that very moment, and he looked between both his cousins in appeal. “You know I can fight. You’ve seen.”

“Aye,” Thor agreed, quietly, and he exchanged a worried glance with his brother.

Loki held an inward sigh of relief that it seemed they both were on the same page: neither of them wanted to risk Balder getting hurt the very instant of his return.

But more than that - Balder being alive was a trump card Loki preferred to hold onto until the very best moment. He didn’t want to ruin it by giving it so soon away. Revealing Balder could wait, until after Amora had been dealt with.

“We can always send for you if we need you,” Loki diplomatically offered.

“You’ve been so long gone; it would seem only right you have earned a reprieve,” Thor determined.

Balder looked stubborn and unhappy, but he let his shoulders drop, guard begrudgingly relaxing as Loki moved closer, briefly touching his arm.

“Please,” he asked more firmly, his voice soft, “do as we ask.”

After a moment Balder nodded. “All right.”

If Loki had thought, perhaps even hoped, that the strong devotion Balder had formed for him would fade the instant they were surrounded again by Asgard’s golden glow, obviously he’d been wrong. For the time being though Loki would not mourn, for continuing to be able to command Balder suited his purposes.

Later, when their enemies were dealt with and loved ones were safe, Loki would be able to distance himself. Perhaps once he was able to compare his cousin to the other Asgardians in the flesh, Balder would snap out of his dream.

As they walked towards the stairs Loki had a belated thought regarding what’d happened on Svartalfheim.

He hesitated, face expressionlessly composed as he cleared his throat and looked to the others. He successfully had their attention and they looked to him with interest.

“If it’s all the same to you,” he remarked, carefully, “when this tale of our journeys is related for what I’m sure will be very eager ears…let’s not mention to anyone what exactly it was I was doing to survive when you met me on Svartalfheim.”

Hogun, Sif, Fandral and Thor’s faces were aghast at once with the realization of how the rest of Asgard would react to hearing what profession Loki had temporarily entered.

Certain he had their understanding, Loki finished, “Especially to the king and queen.”

“No, it’s cool, we’ve got it,” Stark spoke smoothly, his tone matter of fact. “No problem. We’ll tell them you were working your way through law school.”

Loki only glowered at him.

Barton interjected over the other mortal’s palpable amusement, though he wore a snide smirk of his own. “Relax,” he assured Loki. “We can keep a secret.”

Loki sighed as in their restlessness the others began milling around and filing past him.

“I suppose it will have to do.”

As they were met by a patrol of very confused and astonished guards coming out of the Vault, their group split into two. Sif, Hogun and Fandral would accompany their princes as they found their way to wherever Amora was being held. The guards moved to obey Thor’s orders to escort the others to the healing room and then to some place where they could rest.

None of them reacted to Balder’s presence, and Loki and the others said nothing. It was likely with his changed appearance that none of them even recognized him - he who had once been most beloved of all of Asgard’s young warriors.

But it was no matter, now.

*

As the company of rebellious Frost Giants had followed behind in the first group of travelers’ footsteps, the exact same amount of time had passed when the air crackled and there was the sight of frozen lightning before the Jotun appeared in the Vault.

The room was dark. The last patrol of guards had been diverted to other duties and the next changing of rounds would not happen for many hours. In its hidden compartment the Destroyer slept, ready to be wakened at a moment’s notice.

Wary, with teeth bared, the giants looked around. Almost immediately they gathered where they were and stood back to back, many changing the ice on their hands to the shapes of swords or maces.

There was no sign of their precious, long-lost Casket. More than one of their number hissed in displeasure at this discovery.

But still they were surrounded by powerful artifacts, weapons the ancient Asgardian king had taken from many nations. As much pride and sentimental worth as the Casket would have possessed, surely one of these other objects could add something of value to the cause?

One of the Jotun turned to the nearest plinth and with long hands reached to grab onto what rested there by a corner.

Swiftly his wrist was seized, twisted in a crushing grip, as his leader stopped him with a glower.

“No,” the Jotun growled. “We will fall for no tricks, here. These weapons are likely to be guarded by powerful Asgardian magic.” He released his soldier’s hand, dropping it sharply. “We do not need them.”

The second giant bowed his head, cowering, and scuttled away.

The leader of the band drew up to his full height, standing there with a look of fierce determination on his face, looking from one of his followers to another as they waited obediently and reverently for his orders.

This giant was known as Thrivaldi. And he had considered himself an enemy of the current would-be kings of Jotunheim since the moment Laufey fell.

Thrivaldi was a military leader; harsh and angry, he inspired those that supported him by shows of power and fear. There were many like him back home, dissatisfied with the new rule. But he was one of the few who had gathered a substantial army. The greatest threat, possibly, because he was also the greatest contender.

Driven as much by lust for the throne as nationalistic pride, the usurper pictured the glory of a Jotunheim restored, ready to have its revenge on the other Nine Realms. He dreamed of building an empire in his name, of the other weak and lesser races cowering where they belonged at his feet.

It was time to put an end to the lingering remnants of the line of Laufey, to sweep aside the clinging scraps of a now ignominious past. Time for a new chapter to begin: the line of Thrivaldi.

He parted his lips in a terrible sneer, breathing in a sharp hiss past his bared teeth.

“There is something much greater to be seized from Asgard, and far less guarded,” he said. “The Bifrost.”

His men returned his expression with enthusiasm and cruel excitement as he lifted an arm, gesturing them onward.

“We will take Asgard’s bridge for ourselves. We will march on it, and take command of its helm, and with its magic under our control all will remember the cold fear of the reign of the Frost Giants!”

The other Jotun grunted and growled, cheering their approval. They reveled in what was offered to them: the Rainbow Bridge coated in ice, Jotunheim’s new source of power, its destructive might turned against the same arrogant race that had created it.

For his part the leader of this wave of rebellion fairly salivated as he pictured himself with a crown on his head, standing on top a mountain he had built himself out of corpses of defeated enemies.

Jotunheim deserved a strong king like him. A king that would make the realm what it was meant to be: terrible ruler of all.

Thrivaldi took his place at their head, and as dogged and unrelenting as the first frost of winter, together they marched out from that place.

*

So much time had passed since Jane found herself taken prisoner. She had no idea how much, actually, since the room she was in had very little light and she never had any visitors.

It wasn’t a dungeon she was in. But it was small and cramped, cooler than other parts of the palace since there was no lit fire to warm it, no furnishings save a straw pallet on the floor. She was given bread and water that was shoved at a slot through the door.

It was probably a good thing that whoever the woman she looked like was, the guards were afraid of her. They kept their distance and didn’t try to beat her or anything else. They rarely spoke, and when Jane opened her mouth they hurried out of the room, refusing to listen to anything she had to say.

Not that it would’ve made any difference. She was powerless to say her own name, to try and tell anyone what’d happened to her.

So the days passed and she tried in vain to mark them by the light from a single small window, sitting curled up on the floor with nothing to occupy her, not even a piece of paper to write on.

Just a short time ago she had been the luckiest woman on Asgard. Whether she really wanted it or not the whole palace was ready to wait on her hand and foot and shower her in luxuries, and she was engaged to a handsome and very special man that she loved. Now she was locked in a cell, no way of reaching any of her friends, and there was a stranger out there living her life instead of her.

It wasn’t Jane’s nature to feel sorry for herself. But she probably couldn’t be blamed if there were a few times, alone in the dark, she cried.

She was angry. But more than that she felt hopeless, and scared. Try as she might there didn’t seem to be any way out of her current predicament, not a thing she could do. And she didn’t know what was going to happen to her if nothing else changed.

Would she be punished for a crime she didn’t commit, taking another’s place the way someone had taken hers?

She could spend the rest of her life chained to a wall - or worse. Because she knew Asgard still had capital punishment.

A nightmare played itself out in front of her eyes. King Odin shouting out “Off with her head!”, as bound and gagged she was dragged before a yelling and screaming crowd. Faces she had come to recognize cheered as she was forced to her knees, pleading soundlessly, uselessly all the while. As a great axe was raised over her she looked up and saw Thor sitting on a throne - and sitting next to him was Amora, still wearing Jane’s face and bedecked in jewels like a princess. As she met Jane’s eyes she reached over and patted Thor’s hand, and smiled.

Jane shut her eyes and shook her head, squeezing her hands together tight and digging them into her forehead as she forced back a scream.

After all this time if no one noticed anything was amiss, they might never realize.

She had hoped that Thor, or Darcy, or any of the others would see something was wrong. But here she still was, which could only mean they hadn’t.

The imposter had everyone fooled. Jane was out of luck, and probably running out of time.

There was an odd sound from the direction of the door. She stayed where she was a moment, listlessly, until finally she was able to identify it: a key scraping within a lock.

Her head shot up as the door was thrown open and a harsh beam of sunlight poured inside.

“On your feet, Enchantress,” a voice ordered.

Jane squinted and raised an arm to block the light out while her eyes adjusted. At first all she could make out was shadows. There were two figures in the door, another three standing just behind them. In her half-blind state she could only see outlines and shadows.

But the figure in the left of the door was recognizable, tall with broad shoulders and muscled arms, with a profile she knew and familiar golden blond hair. Jane’s heart soared.

“Thor,” she exclaimed, getting to her feet.

He didn’t rush to embrace her. “Stay you back, Amora. I’ve not come all this way to fall for yet another of your tricks.” His voice was curt and hostile and he held Mjolnir in a threatening manner.

Jane faltered in her attempts to reach him, stumbling. She gazed at him in horrified dismay.

Her dress hung off her, wrinkled and unkempt, her skin dull from so long without much food or sunlight, and she felt dirty, unwashed, her hair lank and probably sticking up in a few places.

But none of that mattered. Because the dress was one that hadn’t belonged to her, her hair was still blonde and her skin milk-white and her eyes green. She still looked like something she wasn’t.

As she stood there staring helplessly her eyes slowly adjusted. She could see the angry look on Thor’s face all the more clearly. Loki was next to him, holding himself more aloof. Hanging back behind them out of the way she could just make out Sif and two of the Warriors Three.

“I warned you this would happen, didn’t I?” Loki murmured. “You should have listened.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jane weakly said. But what was she going to do?

Thor scowled. “Enough! Your tricks were bad enough to endure centuries ago, but you overstepped your bounds greatly the minute you transgressed against my lady-love.” He pointed his hammer at her. “I know not what foul magics you have used on her, but I order you to undo them at once, and make Jane once more as she is supposed to be!”

“But I-I…I c-can’t…I’m not…I’m…!” The words poured fragmented and useless from Jane’s mouth.

She took a step backward, shaking her head, as her eyes stung violently with tears.

I’m Jane, she screamed inside her head. I’m Jane, I’m Jane, I’m Jane!

Thor’s face was growing darker, thunderous. He moved to step forward. But suddenly his brother’s hand shot out, blocking his way, stopping him.

“Wait.” Loki’s brow was creased as he looked to their prisoner, frowning. “Something is amiss.”

“Many things are amiss here, brother,” Thor retorted hotly, though he held his ground as Loki slipped inside the room. “Over the past few days just about every member of my family has been threatened! I am besieged by enemies from all sides, hidden in plain sight, and I am ready to put a stop to it.”

“No more than I,” Loki muttered, absent. He slid closer to Jane, one careful step at a time, almost circling as he eyed her with scrutiny.

Loki had never been someone Jane found trustworthy at the best of times. And these were not the best of times. She kept her nervous gaze fixed back at him and did her best to move so he would never be at her back.

Finally he stood right in front of her. There was a silent pause as he kept looking with such unblinking, nerve-wracking intention.

“Brother-”

“Be quiet, Thor.” Without looking up Loki silenced him. The deep unnatural green of his eyes was hypnotizing this close, and if Jane stared into their depths she swore she could practically see all the wheels turning.

He lifted a hand, reaching for her - Jane flinched back.

“Easy, now,” Loki soothed her, voice careful and sincere. “I mean you no harm. If what I suspect is true, I’m trying to help you.” He reached out again and this time Jane managed to hold still, fisting her hands tight.

Loki cupped one hand against her cheek, the pad of his thumb resting just beneath her eye. But what seemed an intimate gesture had no love behind it, only intense scientific curiosity.

She felt dizzy as he gazed deep into her eyes, studying her intently. She couldn’t tell what he was doing but it was clearly something.

And then all of a sudden the trance was broken and Loki’s eyes flicked a fraction wider in surprise. He leaned back.

“This is not Amora,” he announced. “This is Jane.”

As her name fell from his lips Jane felt something untwist inside of her.

Air rushed through her, extinguishing the awful burn that had lingered down the back of her throat. She felt as though something that’d been blocking her voice was suddenly gone, that she was freer than she had been moments before.

“What?” Thor demanded, agog.

“Yes!” The words burst out of Jane’s mouth: “It’s me, I’m Jane Foster!”

She practically sobbed, looking up in Loki at disbelief as one hand clutched the front of her throat. “I’m not her, I’m me, I’m Jane, I’m…I couldn’t say it. The whole time, I have no idea why…”

“Because the words were sealed inside of you, trapped,” Loki informed her. “The Enchantress took your name so that you’d be powerless to reveal her deception. It was very cunning of her; thorough.” He sounded broth troubled and annoyed.

Jane barely paid him any attention. Thor lunged forward, hands going to her shoulders as he held her at arms’ distance, staring at her in complete shock.

His face wrinkled with consternation as he gazed at her hollowly. “…Jane?”

Maybe she should’ve been pissed at him. But she was just so unspeakably relieved.

She gave him a wavering, wet smile. “Yes, Thor. It’s me.” Her voice cracked. “I promise.”

“Jane, I-” He looked to Loki, at a loss. “How can this be? How could this have happened?”

“Clearly Amora has not grown gifted enough through the ages to become a true shapeshifter.” Loki moved out of the way, cloak falling around his shoulders as he gave the lovers room to themselves. “Instead somehow she has stolen Jane’s form, using transitive magic to switch the two of them.”

He shook his head, answering the question Thor hadn’t yet asked: “I can’t break this spell until I’m in the presence of both of them. We need Amora for that.”

“Fine then. Then we will seize Amora, and have things put right once more,” Thor stated. “And she will be made to pay for what she did.”

He looked back to Jane again, only seemingly confused for one second before he drew her in close, holding her tight in an embrace as he buried his head against hers.

“All this time,” he moaned, “and it wasn’t even you! Jane…I am so, so sorry!”

“It’s not your fault.” She rubbed the back of his neck, petting him. “There was no way you could have known.”

Having him back again, so close after they’d been apart and she consumed with fear that she would never see him again, the warmth of his body and the smell of him made her feel weak in the knees.

Thor held her face in both his hands as he met her eyes again. She couldn’t tell if he was begging for punishment or forgiveness.

“But I should have,” he insisted. “How could I have looked into her eyes and not known it wasn’t you? How could I have not felt something was wrong?”

“You were under a spell,” Hogun reminded him, charitably. The three other Asgardians had finally come into the room, everyone crowded together as they looked at Jane in a mixture of sympathy and dismay. “You were barely in your right mind to begin with.”

“Yes; and what thought would’ve occurred to anyone that Amora would be so enterprising as to swap places with your betrothed?” Fandral mused.

“Still,” Sif put in, more soberly, “this does explain why we thought that Jane’s behavior seemed so odd. It hasn’t been Jane at all.”

“Amora always did manage to overplay her hand,” Loki remarked.

“But now that we know, we can fix things,” Thor said with a determination bordering on mania. The betrayal of having Jane switched out right under his nose had clearly shocked him to the core.

Bending down he started to gather her up in his arms, intending to carry her.

It was sweet, but there was something Jane realized she needed to take care of, first. “Wait,” she stopped him with a raised hand. “Hang on. Put me down.”

Thor was bemused, but automatically did as she asked. Once on her feet Jane took a moment to steady herself, and then drew a breath and went back over to Loki.

“Thank you,” she said, soft but sincere. “For knowing. For being able to help me.”

“You are very welcome, but it was nothing,” was Loki’s quiet response.

“No one else was able to do what you did,” Jane insisted. “You were the only one who could. If you hadn’t been here, who knows what might have happened?”

She’d already thought of some of the possibilities, and tried not to shudder.

Loki bowed, and picked up her hand to press a chaste, formal kiss to it. “My lady,” he accepted her thanks, polite. “You know I would do anything to ensure the happiness of my brother.”

She did know. And maybe that should have been enough.

But Jane couldn’t help it that her lips curved in a slight frown.

“Just your brother?” she pressed. “You don’t feel anything at all for me?”

Loki looked up at her, surprised and conflicted. He let her hand drop.

“Should I?” he countered, uneasy. “You are my future king’s intended. You are-”

“Going to be your sister,” Jane reminded him, interrupting. “In-law, I mean.” He grimaced and she felt bold enough to take a step closer. “Loki…I know there was a time when you had a problem with me, but that was when you had a problem with just about everybody.” She almost laughed. “We don’t have to be best friends, but can’t we do anything more than manage to get along?”

Loki was stubbornly silent.

Jane glanced over at where Thor and the others were still hanging by awkwardly. But from their expressions and how they weren’t looking directly at them, she suspected they were doing their best not to actually hear anything being said.

When she looked back again Loki was eyeing her in a way she couldn’t read.

“I can be nice,” Jane offered when he didn’t say anything. “No matter what Darcy says, I promise I can be really easy to get along with, most of the time.” She shrugged, weakly. “And I’m sure we could find something to talk about - your magic, and my physics…” She trailed off, on the verge of giving up.

This was it, she realized; if she couldn’t get Loki to warm to her now, when he had just saved her life, she probably never would. If this didn’t work she was looking at centuries of cool but polite silence.

And no, that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. But if at all possible she’d like to avoid it.

“Do you know why it is that so much of my ire was directed towards you, once, while Thor was still my enemy?” Loki finally asked her, slowly.

“Um. No?” Jane blinked, surprised and discomfited by the question. “I guess it seemed pretty typical. Going after your enemy’s loved ones - isn’t that Supervillain 101?”

“Yes, perhaps. But that wasn’t the only reason.”

“Then…what was it?” This conversation had somehow rapidly turned even more uncomfortable than she’d anticipated. She wondered what Loki could possibly be leading up to.

“Before he was banished I tried for centuries to get Thor to listen to me and see the error of his temper and his recklessness,” he said to her. “I was genuinely afraid, you know. For him, and for Asgard. But it made no difference. Nothing I did ever worked.”

Loki smiled at her wanly, turning his head.

“But then he got cast down to Earth. Three days,” he stressed meaningfully, with an air of derision that sounded like a lingering echo of the angry Loki from years before. “Three days, that’s all it took. Suddenly he was humbled, he put others first, he saw the wisdom in trying to control his temper. After only three days - three days, in your company.”

It took Jane a second to grasp what he was even saying. Her jaw dropped.

“You thought it was because of me? You were jealous, because you thought I was able to get him to do something you couldn’t?” Jane scoffed. “Loki, I had nothing to do with-”

“You had something to do with it,” he countered severely, not letting her finish.

“Fine.” She almost rolled her eyes. “I was there. I happened to be there at the same time as he was going through a lot of other things, and who knows, maybe I had a little something to do with what happened. But I wasn’t solely responsible. He didn’t change for me.”

She resisted the urge to look over at Thor, who she was frankly surprised had managed to keep silent this whole time. No; there were a lot of things about him that seemed like they came straight from a fairy tale, but the idea that he had ‘fixed’ himself for the love of her wasn’t one of them.

Real life just didn’t work that way. And thank goodness for that.

“I know that,” Loki murmured. But he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

Very pointedly Jane asked him, “Did you change who you were just because of Darcy?”

He jerked up, looking at her in dismay. “Of course not, but…that’s different.”

“No,” she corrected him, gently. “It isn’t. I know you think you’re so much more complicated than your brother - and maybe you are, a bit. But at the end of the day, you’re just two men, and me and Darcy are just two women.” She shrugged. “It’s the simplest thing in the world.”

Loki gave a strange smothered laugh. “Truly, you and Thor were made for each other,” he said to the floor in an aside.

But when he looked up again he managed to give her what looked like a more genuine smile.

Jane returned it with one of her own. “What do you say?” She extended her hand towards him, turned sideways for a shake instead of a kiss. “Truce?”

“As far as I was concerned we were under flag of truce to begin with,” Loki noted, as he took her hand in his anyway. “But, yes. I am willing to start over in getting to know one another, if you are.” The gesture was firm and eloquent as he shook her hand.

Jane was tired, and hungry. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a bath or slept in a decent bed. She’d spent the last few weeks being treated like a prisoner, and she still was under a spell that made her look and sound like somebody else.

But all the same she gave her brightest smile, eyes crinkling, and shining with hope and unabashed relief as her and Loki agreed to a fresh start.

Some things in life really just were more important. And family was definitely one of them.

As if he had been waiting in the wings for his cue, Thor came over the instant they drew apart again.

“Shall we go now?” he asked, looking between his fiancée and his brother cagily. “Has the matter, whatever it was, been settled?”

“Yeah,” Jane told him, beaming at Thor before she looked back at Loki. “I think it has.”

“It has been concluded…satisfactorily,” Loki answered, more vague. He straightened up, all business. “We can focus now on more pressing matters.”

“Yes,” Thor said gravely. “While we linger here Amora is still abroad, possessing Jane’s appearance and sullying her good name as she attempts to take control of Asgard. She must be stopped.”

“Then what’re we waiting for?” Jane said, determined. “Let’s go.”

*

Loki could tell by the anxious set to Thor’s brow that if it all possible he would’ve preferred for his beloved Jane not to have to be there. That he would much rather have handed her off to Sif, or one of the other warriors, and asked them to guard her while the princes faced their treacherous old flame.

But Loki had meant what he said in that both women needed to be present in order to break the spell cast over them by Amora. And at present, Thor seemed inclined to listen to his brother’s counsel without question - though the words must have pressed at the edge of his tongue, he didn’t even ask.

And so it was the mortal woman accompanied them as they made their way through the palace, though she remained in back and flanked on either side by Hogun and Fandral, as if guarding her.

The whole group walked as if in procession, with Thor at the head and Loki on his left, Sif bringing up the vanguard very close behind, before the other warriors.

The Asgardians were fresh from several days of rough travel, still with cloaks over their armor and carrying weapons that’d seen recent action. But none of them betrayed signs they were feeling tired. Instead they walked with purpose, gazes steely, as if gearing up gladly for another fight. Whether this second wind came from righteous indignation on behalf of the realm, personal envenomed feelings, or something else entirely, was something that was up to the determination of the individual.

Whatever the reason within moments they strode through the palace halls of highest nobility until they reached the chambers that Jane, as an esteemed guest of the royal family, had been given.

It was no throne room but clearly, Amora had made do with it for the purposes of holding court.

Two guardsmen were stationed outside the door, as if someone had been anticipating an interruption.

Loki took one look and without slowing said to his brother, “Don’t bother trying to reason with them.” He could tell by the half-present daze to their eyes they’d already been seduced by magic.

Thor took this advice and ran with it. He ignored the guards completely, didn’t listen when they commanded him to stop, and when one made the terrible mistake of reaching to restrain him he hurled the armored man aside easily with one arm. Then without pause Thor kicked open the door.

Loki was not particularly surprised to find his old ally had surrounded herself with a small army of handmaidens, simpering noble admirers, and a veritable harem of Asgardian men. She lounged in a plush chair sideways like a courtesan relaxing on a divan, and she had garbed Jane’s stolen shape in a diaphanous dress of the richest fabrics, dripping in perfume and jewels.

Clearly, the power-hungry sorceress had made no attempt at hiding her more recognizable habits.

At Thor’s violently concussive entrance she flinched in her seat with surprise, the servants and onlookers giving cries of alarm as they gaped in bemusement.

“Thor,” Amora straightened up, fingers curling as if she clutched the arms of her chair for support, “my darling, what a…a surprise! I had thought you and your companions were still away. To what do I owe this sudden, if not unappreciated, pleasure?”

“Save your breath, villainess,” Thor barked at her, visibly stewing with anger. “Your false reign will be stopped. We’ve come to put an end to it, along with all your other lies and treachery!”

Confused and scandalized murmurs rose from the crowd. Clearly they hadn’t been put under one of Amora’s enchantments - they were just simpleminded, flocking easily to the scent of power. They believed the illusion this was Lady Jane, their prince’s fiancée. To see Thor shouting at her like that was certainly cause for dismay.

“What reason do you have for speaking to me thus?” Not willing to give up on the idea she could somehow get out of this by continuing to play her part, Amora sniffed, acting offended. “You wound me. Bad enough you should see fit to barge in here, unannounced, and show so little decorum to your one truest love-”

“You are not my truest love,” Thor roared. “That woman is Jane Foster, of Midgard, and you are not she!”

Stepping aside he made room for Jane to be seen. Even in her disheveled dress with bruises and dirt still on her skin, she wore a self-righteous icy rage on her face that would’ve well-became a queen. Sif remained close beside her, glaring at Amora while she held her sword already pointed in one hand.

“Despite your best efforts I have seen through your deceptions - as I did all those centuries before,” Thor continued. “Renounce yourself, Enchantress! And perhaps I will feel compelled to be merciful on you.”

“But not too merciful, I surmise,” Loki couldn’t resist adding in a drawl.

As terrible as Thor’s anger could be, there was a little vicarious thrill he got out of watching it unleashed on somebody else. Particularly when that somebody actually deserved it.

Amora did an uneasy double-take when she heard Loki speak and realized Thor had been successful in finding him. She had to realize she was in for it now: when trying to play against one of them, her greatest advantage had always been to somehow manipulate the other to her side, using one brother to shield herself from the other. With both of them against her she didn’t stand a chance.

One of the noblewomen that had been fawning diligently over the false betrothed pointed at Jane with one finger and screamed: “Amora! The Enchantress!”

Concerned mutters went through the crowd, and they swayed in a manner that promised to quickly turn unruly.

“No,” Thor quickly countered, raising Mjolnir in a gesture for silence. “Not Amora! This is in fact Lady Jane, who had her form and voice stolen by this witch. That is Amora,” he pointed, “who hides under a mask to manipulate in the name of her thirst for power.”

The outright panic stilled, but from the looks on their faces and sounds of their whispers, the mob wasn’t immediately convinced.

Amora pounced on their uncertainty.

“And by whose authority do you have that?” she demanded. “The words of that woman? No doubt it’s only another devious game she plays to trick you again! What proof does she have of her claim?” Her voice rose confidently. “Does Loki back her up? The lying prince who has a long history of fooling you for his own amusement, and who has allied with her in the past?”

The servants and nobles continued muttering, some nodding with eyes narrowed mistrustfully. Either way they showed no intention of moving aside. And the dozen or so men Amora had actively enchanted had drawn in closer, clearly ready to defend her as they stood with weapons in hand.

Jane was shoved back behind Fandral and Hogun, and the two men moved closer to Sif and the princes, the five turning so they stood all but back to back in a tight defensive knot. They posed warily, ready at a moment to lunge into action, and exchanged worried glances.

If the non-soldiers didn’t stand aside this could turn into chaos. The battle that would erupt would be unruly with a greater chance of injury, and certainly for those that would be getting in the way. On top of that there was a strong possibility Amora could take advantage of it and escape.

Loki cursed silently to himself, fingertips flickering with magic as he tried to think of something. It was a bad situation, all around.

“That woman was made prisoner on behalf of the All-Father,” one of the nobles was saying, pointing intently at Jane. “Who are we to question his authority?”

“Then perhaps you would do well to listen to the direct words of that authority himself.”

The resonant voice of the king came very clear, and instantly everyone fell into stunned silence.

Odin stood in the vacated entrance to the room, resplendent and intimidating in all his royal glory, his head high with the weighty air of command. At his back was an escort of guards. To his sides stood the queen, Lady Freya, and Darcy, who had her arms crossed and a victorious smirk on her face.

“Father,” Thor exclaimed, both astonished and thankful. He indicated Amora again. “She-”

“I know, Thor,” Odin interrupted him simply. He gestured to the dark-haired mortal with one hand: “Lady Darcy came and found us, the minute she realized that Jane Foster had been replaced by an imposter.”

“Darcy?” the real Jane breathed, sounding immensely grateful.

“It was pretty easy to figure out, once I realized magic was involved,” Darcy stated, smooth. She shot a dark look to where Amora was still enthroned: “Considering the real Jane isn’t a raging superficial bitch.”

Odin didn’t so much as bat his good eye at the uncouth swearing. “As it turns out, Amora was smuggled into the palace as part of a plot, assisted by powerful allies from Vanaheim. Darcy brought this straight to our attentions, accompanied by Lady Freya, who had valuable information as to the nature of this fraud.”

Loki took a careful look at his aunt. The leader of Shieldmaids had the familiar hardened composure on her face, standing like a soldier awaiting an order.

But looking closely, he thought he saw something lurking in her eyes - something haggard, and raw.

If what Loki suspected was true then it was probably at least in part Nanna’s doing that Amora had been brought here. And if so, Freya would’ve had to have been in on it.

Before going to the All-Father she would’ve had to make up her mind; choosing between her Lady and her King. No easy task for someone who lived by the sword of duty.

But there would be time later to piece out what’d happened, and marvel over it. The All-Father’s timely entrance had done the trick. The majority of the bystanders were convinced and quickly getting out of the way. The few that lingered were more confused than stubborn, and being dragged along by the tide.

Loki took advantage of the opening left in their wake. He unsheathed a dagger and held it in his palm, giving himself a split second to aim before, with the full might of his arm, he hurled it at Amora.

She let out a shriek of fear and raised a hand, using a spell to shield herself. Combative magic was never her forte but of course she knew how to defend.

But the dagger itself had only been a vessel - Loki fastened to it a powerful curse designed to unbind and unravel. Unprepared Amora didn’t have a chance to guard the web of power she had draped around herself. The spell hit with dancing sparks of acid green.

Amora and then Jane cried out in pain, energy dancing and flickering violently between them.
There was a splash of color and light that caused many to shield their eyes. The room smelled faintly of smoke.

When everything was clear Amora had half-collapsed in her throne and Jane had sagged towards the floor, Sif clinging on to keep her upright. As both women rose their images seemed to warp - and then both turned back into themselves.

The witnesses gasped and dove further away from Amora. Her face twisted in anger and she snapped her fingers, bringing her enchanted slaves closer to heel.

Her irritation could’ve only been increased by the fact many were ignoring her. Thor made a sound of joy and relief and went to embrace Jane deeply. Darcy ran from her place by the All-Father to dive at Loki, wrapping her arms around him tight.

“You made it back! I’m so glad,” she sighed. He found himself smiling as he held her close, a warmth rising in his chest.

As Darcy pulled away again her voice turned firm. “You have got a lot of explaining to do,” she instructed. “Do you have any idea how crazy it made me, when you disappeared like that?”

“I didn’t leave you, or any of the others, under such circumstances by choice,” Loki promised her, caressing her cheek as he grinned fondly at her indignation.

“Well, yeah, I figured that out once I heard what was really going on. But even still! You’d better have one hell of an interesting story to tell, buster.”

He laughed. “Oh, as a matter of fact, I do. I think you’ll find it very entertaining. But now, my dear, if you’ll excuse us…”

He gently but firmly pushed Darcy away in the direction of safety, turning already to look back at Amora and her small army. Thor was herding Jane away as well - the two women hugged each other in a brief, smiling reunion, then ducked back to stand between Frigga and the All-Father.

“Thor,” Odin asked, calmly, “what say you? Shall it be the task of the king to strike this criminal down?”

“No, Father,” Thor responded without hesitation, no eyes for anyone but Amora. “Her crimes were committed against us. We shall enact justice ourselves.”

If Loki had been in Amora’s place he would’ve tried to run. The Enchantress had to know she stood no chance of winning. She didn’t have nearly enough on her side to take on Thor alone, and hardly when he was backed up by the others. And then there was the fact that the All-Father was waiting in the wings on the off-chance his children failed.

But Amora was so very obstinate. She ordered her men to attack, backing them up with a few poorly-aimed if powerful spell bolts.

Loki batted most of her magic away like it was nothing. Thor plowed through the bewitched men with Mjolnir, rendering them unconscious. Fandral laughed heartily as he dashed in and out with his rapier; Hogun and Sif seemed to take certain enjoyment out of pummeling the men bodily.

It was over before it scarcely began. Most of the men were knocked out or too injured to get up, and a few had been struck so hard they were awakened from the spell.

Amora was cornered, at a loss. Loki created a magic chain and wrapped her in it so she couldn’t move her arms or run.

And then while Thor stood there looking visibly conflicted about the prospect of hitting a woman, Sif marched over and without pause socked Amora right in the jaw, sending her tumbling to the ground, senseless.

While the servants cleaned up and tended to the wounded, Fandral flirted with the impressed handmaidens, and the Enchantress was carried out on the shoulders of two guards like a rolled-up carpet, Darcy found her way back to Loki’s side and twined her arms around him again.

“Well that was exciting.” She kissed him. “Gods, I missed you. Where were you all this time, anyway?”

“Jotunheim first, and then Svartalfheim,” he told her. “As I said, it’s a long and winding tale.”

“Right now I could tell you a few of my own.” Darcy glanced in the direction Amora had gone and shook her head. “Ugh. I know it’s kind of petty, but I sure don’t envy Jane. Having to know that that gold-digging platinum blonde skank is one of Thor’s exes.”

“Um.” Despite his better judgment Loki couldn’t help the cringing, awkward half-syllable that escaped his mouth.

Darcy took one look at him. And then she immediately rolled her eyes with a groan of exasperation.
“I walked myself right into that one, didn’t I?”

*

After the long journeys that had been undertaken, the tasks that had been accomplished, the multitude of players that had been involved and the threats that had been faced, at the end of it all the conclusion seemed almost anticlimactic.

Amora was bound under powerful magic as well as lock and key, placed in the same room her victim had been, and left to await justice at the opportune moment.

Now that they were no longer in the heat of battle Thor found himself embracing Jane multiple times, fussing over her as he asked again and again if she was sure she was all right.

Even though he hadn’t realized what had really happened at the time, he couldn’t deny he had sorely missed her in her absence. Her sweet smile and her dainty laugh, her kind and clever mind.

More now than ever, he was wholly convinced that he wanted to marry her. He could think of no one else he would so enjoy having by his side and sharing everything in his life with.

Though it hadn’t been that long a journey, he and his traveling companions were hailed as if they were returning heroes. The people of Asgard did so love the idea of a good quest. They crowded around them, cheering and begging eagerly for details of where they had gone, what monsters they defeated and what horrors they had faced. They were offered drink and food and women as rewards for their exploits.

Thor however kept insistently pushing his brother forward, and reminding everyone that Loki had been gone the longest. He was the one who had undergone a real ordeal - the rest of them had only come along to the rescue at the last moment.

Loki rather peevishly objected to Thor’s use of the word ‘rescue’. He asserted that he’d had everything under control and he would’ve been able to get home just fine on his own without any help.

Thor only grinned, and tried not to feel sour over how resigned Loki was when it became clear many hadn’t noticed or cared he was missing.

But he and Darcy were very glad to see each other again, and maybe what truly mattered were the significant ones, in the end.

There was palpable joy and relief in the air as Loki and their parents greeted each other once more. Frigga swung her arms around his neck and Loki bent down to hug her. And there was only the slightest hesitation when he went to exchange a few words, softly, with the All-Father.

At no point during any rendition of the storytelling was there a single mention of pole-dancing.

Despite being quite fatigued, Siún put in an appearance with her son in her arms, pushing people out of the way with a surprising stubbornness for so slight a woman, so that those who hadn’t yet the chance could meet her darling Saemund.

Volstagg followed close behind his wife. While she mostly stood there, quiet, with a tired smile on her face, her husband was much more expressive.

First he sobbed as he wrapped Loki in a crushing embrace and said how worried he’d been and how Asgard wasn’t the same without him, then he sobbed again as he hugged Fandral and Hogun against his sides with one under each burly arm, bewailing the fact he had missed out on the fun. Evidently, fatherhood had made Volstagg especially emotive.

Around the time most of the crowds had been shooed away, suddenly the three Avengers appeared, healed and well-rested and, in the case of Tony, determined to act as if they had never been injured in the first place. Amused as they were by Asgard’s reaction to their heroic deeds, mostly they seemed genuinely glad that everything had worked out all right.

But there was still one matter left.

With great solemnity Thor left the others behind and followed his family into the throne room.

The golden antechamber had been cleared of everyone, even the guards that typically stood duty, and it made the room seem especially grand and intimidating. The king sat with his wife, his sons, and his wife’s sister standing at a close but respectful distance around him.

And then the doors opened and in walked Lady Nanna Nepsdottir of Vanaheim, matriarch of the House of Frey.

The soldiers that served as her escort left quietly and shut the doors behind her. Nanna glanced back and then, blankly, looked forward again.

Odin beckoned. “Come closer, Lady Nanna. There is a grave matter that needs must be discussed.”

There was no fear on Nanna’s face. Nor anything. Merely a hard, gaunt composure, her eyes shining with that seeming ever-present brittle anger, as she walked with head held high.

“You are here because of something that I’m afraid can only be addressed with unpleasantness,” the king continued in severity. “The only reason right now you have not been arrested and charged with treason is out of respect for you as a member of my wife’s family.” He paused, but Nanna didn’t say anything - she still didn’t react. Odin turned to look at his sister-in-law.

“Lady Freya.” She stepped forward, armor clanking. “Will you repeat now what you informed us of earlier?”

Freya cleared her throat so that her words rang clear and resolved. “The banished criminal known as Amora the Enchantress was permitted to sneak her way inside the palace with help from Vanaheim. Lady Nanna knew of Amora’s presence and her intention to replace Prince Thor’s fiancée, and she both said and did nothing. What’s more she planned to aid Amora in her endeavor by making sure Prince Loki was first out of the way, since he would almost surely see through the deception.”

“Did you know about this plot, sister?” Frigga demanded. Her face was stricken, her voice unyielding. Thor had been faced many times with this version of her as a boy - he’d feared it almost more than the cold wrath of his father’s judgment. “Tell me the truth.”

“No.” Freya’s voice softened a note. “I swear on my honor, I did not. I only found out of Amora’s involvement after the thing had already been done. Before I had thought my lady’s plan had been to remove Loki from Asgard for the sake of revenge.”

Gazing at her the queen’s expression did not relax any, but she nodded. Evidently what she saw and heard made her believe Freya’s words. Her face turned to fix on Nanna instead.

“What could you possibly have been intending? What was your purpose, in doing such a thing?”

Nanna’s mouth worked into a scowl. She raised both her hands, as if shrugging they should even need to ask.

“I wanted to strike a blow at your family’s ill-deserved happiness. To deprive the Jotun boy of his stolen life, and to deprive your rightful son of the woman he so adores.” She seethed. “And I knew, that with the Enchantress sitting in the palace as princess, it was only a matter of time before her vanity and greed scandalized the people and gave rise to outrage.”

“Did you merely wish to turn them against us and make our family hated,” Odin asked disparagingly, “or were you trying to foment an actual coup?”

Nanna remained unrepentant. “Either one would have brought me satisfaction to see.”

“Have you gone mad?” Thor broke in, horrified and disgusted. “I know the centuries have been far from kind to the connection between us, Aunt, but we are your family! How can you strike out against us to bring us down?”

“You couldn’t be more wrong,” Nanna spat back. She bent forward, gripping her skirts in both hands twisted with fury. “My family died long ago. That creature you persist in calling ‘brother’ saw to that.”

Her gaze moved to fix on Loki in all her wrath.

But coolly, Loki met her eyes right back.

“Alas, you could not be more wrong,” he informed her. He sounded vaguely pitying.

He turned his head and nodded. And even knowing what was to come, Thor’s breath faltered in a lingering sense of amazement, caught in his throat, as Balder stepped out from where he had been concealed behind a pillar.

The light caught in Balder’s pale hair from behind him, seeming to give him a halo and making his appearance even more unearthly and astonishing.

Thor turned to watch as Nanna’s face was slowly overcome by shocked disbelief.

He had grown over the centuries, and he did not line up quite right with what any of them had pictured. But there was familiarity in his eyes, his motions. And there was no doubt that a mother recognized her own son.

“How can this be?” Nanna cried. With the wideness of her eyes and the emotion in her face she seemed to shrink down to half the size she already was. “Is this some form of trick?”

“No trick,” Loki answered her. “All this time, Balder was out there, alive and waiting. We only had to know where to look.”

At first Nanna didn’t seem to hear him. As Balder kept walking forward, his steps slowing, she shied back, too overcome or possibly afraid to let him near her.

Her voice broke in a sob as she clutched a hand near her mouth.

“Balder? My Balder?” she wept. “My son, is it really you?”

Balder gazed at her, his blue eyes wide. But he was uncertain and confused.

“Mother?” The word was more of a question. “Is that…right? Are you my mother?”

Nanna’s voice broke again with a gasp. One trembling hand half-reached for him. “You don’t remember me!”

“I don’t remember much,” Balder admitted. “Many things are vague, strange inside my head.” He took another step closer to her, frowning as he studied her with genuine intent. “But I think I remember your face. It seems so very familiar to me.”

The two of them stood less than a stride-length apart, both with hands upraised, gazing at one another, but equally frightened to reach closer and break through that last barrier.

As touching as the reunion was, there was a grim pall of regret that hung over it. Not just because of how bittersweet Balder’s strange state made things. But also because of the crimes Nanna had committed in his name.

She couldn’t take any of that back, now. And she would still have to be punished.

Into this heavy with emotion, frozen moment, suddenly the silence was torn apart as the doors were thrown open and a group of figures dashed in.

Odin leapt to his feet. “What is the meaning of this,” he shouted. But the kingly outrage died in his throat when he saw who had interrupted him.

Two of the royal guard had pushed aside the doors. Now they hung back and three figures entered, hurried. The first was another guard dressed in the armor that signified he served Heimdall’s watch. He was huffing and puffing, having clearly just run a long way.

Thor stepped forward in apprehension as he saw who the other two that came forward with him were. It was Sif, back again in her full armor, and Steve, wearing his suit and carrying his shield.

“All-Father,” the guardsman wheezed, “my apologies, for the intrusion…”

“We must move quickly,” Sif cut in. She waved one arm, beckoning them to follow her. “The Bifrost is under attack!”

“What?” Thor exchanged alarmed looks with the others. Odin marched forward, calling for his armor to be brought to him, and Frigga followed close in his footsteps as Freya silently checked her sword. “By who?”

He’d a terrible feeling he already knew the answer.

Sif breathed, “Frost giants.”

LINK TO CONCLUSION