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anyabathory-blog · 10 months

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Between Realms — chapter 1.

Ukraininan ver.(ao3) Word count: 9.8k.

Synopsis: The story takes place before GOW:Ragnarök and covers the events from the point of view of the Aesir. At the whim of Fate, Liv is heading to the City of the Gods. A/N: special thanks to @engardeitsme for reading all over and over again and helping me with the text ♡. I hope you will enjoy it.

Thoughts are marked in italics. Could be swearing, ass kicking and Heimdall. You're warned, yey.✨

The meeting

It had been naive of her to think that the screams in the middle of the rocks could have come from a child. Nobody went to places like that, and they were even less likely to be found. But Liv wouldn't have been able to forgive herself if she hadn't checked. Which, of course, she regretted almost immediately. She hadn't even taken a dozen steps, elbowing her way through the narrow, zigzagging passage, when she fell and landed on her back. Deep enough that she couldn't go back the way she came, but not high enough to break her spine.

The white-green patch in front of her eyes began to form outlines – white light and brown shadow and then gained depth.

The girl was lying in the middle of the cave, listening to the itching in her muscles. Under her back, moss grew like a furry carpet. It smacked with a sigh when Liv sat up, lifting her head up. There was a sudden noise in her temples, a buzzing that blinded her for a moment, but then she blinked it away and was able to look around.

A white beam of light, illuminating the damp ceiling was coming through the hole above, which must have been the passage through which she had fallen earlier. Apart from the moss that hung like a green sheet from the ceiling, the spots of sunlight and the dancing shadows, she was surrounded by silence.

The girl casually began to shake off the dirt and moss pieces when the light played between the uneven walls again. But this time it was accompanied by a damp, champing sound, more like a cuttlefish than a fussy bird that might have flown past the hole from above.

Liv narrowed her eyes, trying to make out something in the patch of light, but all she could see were rays of sunlight darting from one cave tooth to the next, failing to reveal the source of the hideous 'chomp'.

Instantly, her senses stung and she recoiled, startled by the sudden adrenaline rush and the way the gust of air ruffled her hair. She looked down at the spot where she had just been standing and noticed movement in the shadows, which then scurried away with a familiar sniffle.

Liv's calves immediately tensed and she barely squatted. Even though she couldn't see the creature, she could definitely sense the presence of it. The Instinct never let her down. Chomp, chomp, chomp.

Closer.

Closer. The ground next to her foot crumpled slightly, and something invisible started chomping in front of her face. Liv pretended not to notice, staring at the blurred halo of light on the floor as she slowly moved a little lower, reaching for her scabbard on the floor. The sound followed her accordingly.

It was close, revealed only by the breeze on her face and the sound echoing in the air. Chomp, chomp, chomp.

As her fingers caught the ribbed hilt of the sabre, a wave of goosebumps ran down her spine – the familiar tension in her body. Liv felt like a taut arrow, waiting for the moment to strike.

"What are you waiting for, Liv?" Logain's voice was quiet, hissing between the walls, seeming both near and far away, "Go on, pull out your weapon. Do what you know how to do, what you've always done. Kill again. Kill me.”

The girl twitched. Her face twitched too. But she didn't speak. Logain had been feeding the worms in the ground for a long time.

Chomp, chomp, chomp. Something wet slid down her boot, and his voice grew louder.

"Why hesitate? Have you forgotten Mercia? Have you forgotten Vesex?" The air around her face stirred again as something that felt like a wet rope began to squeeze her ankle. Chomp, chomp.

“So much dirt and meat in the armour that the sky was black with crows and the stench squeezed out the tears, remember? Do you remember how I begged you to stay out?”

She smiled slightly out of the corner of her mouth, but the tension in her body did not ease. Logain's voice grew louder, filling her head, and squeezing the skull. She could almost imagine him moving his wrist to the side, making an imaginary six, and pressing his thin lips together in an overly dramatic way, lecturing her. He loved to lecture, although he was younger. Lagain had made mistakes in his life that it was a sin not to embellish with eloquent details, telling them over a mug of mead that had barely fermented in the flask. Fermented, but still tasted better than anything.

Liv closed her eyes for a moment, letting the memories flood back into her mind as the creature kept speaking in a familiar voice.

The flames flicker, the smell of pine and ash blows away all anxiety. Here is Logain baring his teeth, white as 32 pearls, shamelessly exaggerating his achievements, here is Eilbe smiling shyly as he taps her on the shoulder. Chomp, chomp, chomp.

"Doesn't matter, now it doesn't matter..."

The girl sighed, no longer listening. It seemed to start listing names. Names, titles, their roles in her life, how they had left, how she had made sure they left before they perished.

The list went on. Chomp, chomp.

"Now."

Liv slashed from the elbow and with a whistle her sabre flew out like a bottle cork into the blurred space in front of the girl's face.

A shuddering screech ripped through the cave, finally ending the pretentious 'Logain' monologue. The blade sliced softly through the air and snapped as Liv twisted the handle, plunging it deeper. The point seemed to disappear into nowhere, but was still piercing an invisible belly.

The shapeless fetters began to wrap around the girl's waist, squeezing her in a vain attempt to throw her off, but she ignored the creature's scream and hovered steadfastly above it. As the sabre sliced into space, disappearing almost to the level of the crossguard, another sound joined the shriek, which vibrated in a dozen different tones (the creature was still trying to mimic a voice). It was the sound of soft muscles tearing. This was followed by a characteristic stench with a metallic flavour – of blood.

But the blurry blob of air in front of her was not going to give up without a fight. The creature, still screaming, pulled her forward, and she swore when she felt her boot slip on the moss. Liv pressed harder, hoping to pin the shapeless creature to the ground. She miscalculated.

For a moment, the world blurred back into a white and green stain, accompanied by a cacophony of different voices, but eventually, she found herself on her back. The moss crunched softly under her spine.

"Blood! Blood!" The creature, as torning between Logain's voice and an almost childlike falsetto, pinned the girl down harder. "So much blood! It's no use! Do you hear..." Liv struggled, blindly trying to kick the invisible creature so that it would finally shut its mouth, but she missed - it only roared louder, not relenting. Plasma began to drip into her face in thick threads of green mucus, mixing with moss and dirt.

The girl, clutching the handle with stiff fingers, kicked again, this time at the point where the mucus was coming from. She seemed to hit it - the weight above her barely shifted.

The air instantly shook with an inhuman screech, and then there was silence. Silence.

Liv froze and blinked uneasily, looking at what was pinning her down. She could see it now. Her sabre was hilted into a glassy eye that was still trying to convulsively close its heavy eyelids, and orange insides were stretching out in ribbons down to her torso. Slowly unclenching her fingers, Liv shook her shoulder and then again, carefully pushing the motionless nightmare away from her.

"Beastliness, shit, and filth" swearing softly in a couple more languages, Liv shrugged one last time and sat up, looking disgustedly at the creature and then at her clothes, which were stained with green mucus now.

Slowly standing up, she kicked at the rounded belly with its unmoving tentacles. It stirred but did not move or cry out. It was dead. It was quiet.

Nightmares were usual beasts in her travels, but what never stopped to amaze her was the number of varieties. Some could blind her, others spat ice, some spat flames, and some only got closer and exploded for no known reason. But the fact that this creature could turn invisible was a first for her. "They must adapt differently to each realm," Liv mentally summarised, kicking the eye-shaped monstrosity as her sabre unyieldingly twitched between the entrails and chitinized plates of the creature.

As she struggled with the blade, her face was gently touched by the soft breezes swaying through the cave's walls. Separating the weapon away from the body with a kick, Liv turned around and stood to listen.

After taking a few steps, she heard the wind whistle stronger, seeping through the cracks of the cave, as something crunched dryly under her boot. Looking down she noticed bones. The skull, the back of which was cracked open like an eggshell, was small, childlike.

***

Eventually the wind carried her out of the cave and onto the flat, sun-drenched surface. Hrimthur's Wall, the famous Asgardian wall wrapped in a collar of mist, rose up for who knew how many metres and fell down for just as many. Liv's fingers itched at the thought of how much further she had to climb. Not without disgust, she wiped the green mucus from the blade with the edge of her shirt and sighed.

The girl spent the next hour alone with her thoughts, which accompanied her all the way up the wall, along with the scraping of stones under her fingernails, the whistling of the wind, and the clinking of the sheath against her belt. She kept her eyes level with the basalt surface, not wanting to look down, sometimes throwing her head up and grabbing onto ledges, sometimes diving into crevices between grotesquely huge nails that had been embedded in the rock, sometimes pressing her body against the Wall as startled birds flew out of their nests. Once she almost slipped on a rotten apple that someone must have dropped from above(who does that?). When she reached the top, she was covered in dust and sweat.

The Wall clawed into the ground, holding a crescent-shaped lake of buildings and roads that lay beneath the clouds. Asgard had isolated itself not only from uninvited guests, but also from the permanent frost that had frozen Midgard in a deadly grip for so many years. The City of the Gods was lulled into an eternal summer, safe from worry behind high walls. But the Wall of Hrimthur was never left unguarded.

Something had pushed the girl between her shoulder blades. In a moment, the ground slipped away from under her feet, and the green valley opened its mouth wider, looking less picturesque and even lower than she had imagined. Liv gasped for air as her stomach twisted into a knot and squinted, already vividly imagining her fall. However, other than the pounding of her heart and the soft shuffling of the ground beneath her, she heard no wind whistling or bones crunching. Her feet still felt the unsteady ground, and the fabric of her shirt cut into her skin as someone behind her, holding her by the shirt's collar, sighed with pretentious exhaustion.

Liv didn't hurry to look back, seeing the toes of her boots peeking over the edge of the Wall, but she did catch a glimpse of another pair of feet.

"Well, let's skip the greetings part and save each other’s time, shall we?" The voice was male and young, but despite its hostility, it sounded somewhat ingratiating. Meanwhile, his grip on her collar tightened defiantly, bordering on strangulation. "So, who are you, what do you want, and, most importantly, how did you get here?" Even without seeing the face of the interlocutor, though rather the extortionist, she could feel the mocking smile in his voice. "Although, never mind. How about you only answer the very last question before I let go of you."

Liv made a careful movement to the side, trying to straighten up, but a voice behind her hissed softly.

"I don't recommend it." And then the weightlessness hit her again for a moment. The collar of her shirt was pulled down just below her chin "And I won't repeat myself."

Her breathing quickened, and an animalistic fear prevented her from thinking coldly and composedly, so she chose sincerity. Sincerity is a minority virtue, but it is surprisingly appropriate in most cases when you are promised to fly down.

"I want to help."

There was a pause, though it was not an empty one, full of tension and Liv's futile attempts to catch her breath. This pause was also surprisingly short, as it was interrupted by the quiet laughter of the man behind her.

"Help?" the stranger burst into another laugh. "You're barely able to help yourself, vagrant. So who do you want to help again?”

"Odin, the gods, mortals," the girl pursed her lips, barely inhaling the air, "myself.”

"Oh, I believe in the latter willingly, in the former barely, and in the first two, I don't believe at all. But okay. That's more honest than usual." The air licked Liv's cheek before she hit the ground with her back. Almost instantly, she scrambled to her feet and straightened up. Straightened up as best she could after the climb and the undeniably warm greeting.

The stranger's shimmering eyes narrowed as she looked down at him. Something told her he didn't like being shorter than her. So the two purple lights stared with a mute question, stared with a certain insolence, as Liv caught her breath, wheezing sounds escaping her throat.

"I don't recall your name on the guest list, vagrant." The man, or rather more a blond lad, looked at her with his shoulders squared.

He was in a good mood for an ordinary guard, too good even, and better dressed than any guard Liv had ever seen. His entire appearance betrayed a nobleman proud of his ancestry, from the golden cuff on his ear to the tips of his boots. This curved her lips into a faint half-smile.

But the stranger did not comment – he was probably waiting for an answer, the question of who she was hanging in the air. Taking a breath, Liv finally decided to answer:

"Of course, of course," she said, sucking in another breath, but her voice sounded a little strangled, "My name is Liv Rolandsdatter, nice to meet you." her mouth corner twitched ironically to the last part, but soon her face regained its calm expression.

The stranger nodded, letting out a small laugh, and it was hard to tell what he found more amusing – her name or the fact that she pretended not to know who he was. The horn on his gold-embroidered belt jiggled slightly as the god put his hands at his sides and spoke:

"My name is Heimdall," he paused, and before continuing, he pursed his lips in an unnatural smile "I am the Herald of Ragnarök and the Guardian of the Aesir. Now, Liv, please give me at least one reason not to throw you off the Wall."

"The gods are very friendly people, I see," she thought ironically. Surprisingly, right after that, Heimdall cackled with a familiar laugh.

"I think," as she began, something predatory glinting in those strange eyes, "that you already know the answer to that, lord Heimdall.”

Politeness is another virtue peculiar to the minority, but surprisingly appropriate when you are facing a god from whom you expect anything but pleasantness.

He tilted his head to the side and smiled, no longer hiding his golden teeth, as it turned out. It was a shitty smile, the kind that usually makes people lose their heads. Literally.

"Clever girl. What good would you be to the Allfather, the King of the Aesir? I think the Allfather has enough warriors already," his tone grew more and more unpleasant with each word, and for a moment Liv thought a bruise under his white cheekbone would have suited him well, "I doubt a frail lassie like you, vagrant Liv, would be more useful than any einherjar."

Her fingers ran lightly over the hilt of the sabre, scratching the top with her fingernail almost tenderly. The metal cooled her hand and mind soothingly. Heimdall reminded her exactly of the type of person with whom every verbal battle ends with a face in a bowl: a stew of your own blood and teeth.

"Perceptive." Liv licked her lips as her blood pulsed in her temples. "I'm from Skadi*," she said, unexpectedly, mockery evident in her voice, "I think that's enough for Odin himself to accept even a 'frail lassie' like me."

Unfortunately, of all the virtues, Liv lacked politeness the most. As well as patience.

"Skadi..." Heimdall tilted his head to the side as if he had heard the name for the first time, "Jotun, the traitor to two nations at once: her own and mine... No, no." He paused and made a careless gesture with his hand. The purple gaze measured her for a moment before the god continued, "No. You are here only for yourself.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Liv tucked her chin up, looking down at the young god.

"What a fascinating story, really. A little more guesswork about me, pompous speeches and introductions or–"

It swirled. Before she could say anything else, she fell to her knees. Her stomach twisted and she was paralyzed with throbbing pain from a hit, but she quickly recovered. A familiar impulse hit her brain, dulling the pain and fatigue, leaving only one thing behind – the desire to hurt back. Liv threw her head up, waiting for him to approach.

"Once again" He snorted through his teeth as he sat down on his toes as well. God's tone smoothly turned into an irritatingly flattering one. "Why should I allow someone like you to come into my home and meet with the Allfather?" Liv's upper lip quivered irritably as she felt a touch on her head. "Then, for example, to string your red haired head on a stick? Perhaps then this endless stream of uninvited guests will end, since the enormous Wall in front of their noses is not enough, huh?"

He had the nerve to pat her on the head in a fatherly, no, rather mistressly way, as if Liv were some kind of naughty puppy. It was annoying, drowning out the last echo of reason. Liv didn't feel pain anymore and there was an evil glint in her eyes.

Suddenly, Heimdall giggled gutturally, looking her in the eye with his purple lights. That was the last straw. With a short snarl, Liv lunged forward, intent on slamming her forehead into the smug face, but the attempt failed and her knees skidded on the stone as she lost her balance again. He was already standing away.

"Did you really want to hit me?" Heimdall said cheerfully, with an expression as if he had just heard a very funny joke.

"Yes, a bruise would make your pale face more attractive," Liv snapped, finally raising to her feet.

The way the young god's face contorted made her smile wickedly. But her pleasure did not last long, for he came toward her, quickly. Very quickly, even the sound of his footsteps seemed to come with a delay as his face was close again. But Liv still managed to free her sword from its silver-embroidered scabbard.

"Whoa, the lassie can fight," he said with a hoot as he saw the blade pointing at his impudent face, "Careful, don't cut yourself..."

Sparks sliced through the air between them, the enchanted metal of her sabre glowing white in an instant. Heimdall suppressed his surprise and easily dodged the lunge, but the subtle surprise that slipped into his eyes made Liv want to thank Skadi for the sword for the first time.

She tried to grab his collar, but before she could, the god stepped back again and unhooked the scabbard from his belt. The air seemed to become liquid as he moved, sounds disappearing for that brief moment as the step backwards became two feet, then four, then ten.

"How is he doing that?" Liv's eyebrow shot up for a moment as he voiced the same thought that had just flashed through her brain. Heimdall giggled again and made a gesture with his hand, causing the air to ripple again like an agitated sea, distorting space. “Showing off.”

A moment and he was closer again. Closer than she expected, closer than she could see. However, it was enough for her to feel it, her Instinct, prickling her fingertips, ordered her to move away. A deep breath, a half-turn, a step, a parry, and an exhale – this dance was as clear as the last time, as years ago, as centuries before. The young god didn't even bother to pull out his sword, apparently expecting to punch her between the eyes with the golden tip of the scabbard, but it met her sabre with a loud clang. The lilac eyes looked at her now with anger as she drew back, kicking up dust, but she stood her ground.

The sound of metal hitting metal still echoed in the air as the two stared each other in the face, a pair of purple eyes and yellow-like sulphur ones. The longer Liv held back the pressure, the heavier the sword became in her hands, its silver blade sparkling with runes (perhaps that was the only reason it hadn't shattered like glass) was still trembling in her hands. Heimdall smiled and nudged her again, breaking the contact between the weapons.

"Very well, maybe you deserve to have me draw my sword..." Stretching his shoulder, the young god threw the scabbard aside. The black metal glistened in the sun with a bloodthirsty growl. Even the engraving on the ricasso had some gilding.

"Vain asshole." Liv's upper lip twitched irritably again, and the scar on it stabbed treacherously. With every word he said, she was getting angrier and angrier, losing control, which was not good. She was on her own in this situation, in the thick of it, and if Heimdall hadn't attacked first, she would have been out of here by now, but damn life had other plans for her. It always does.

"Oh, come up with something more interesting," Heimdall sighed theatrically, making an inviting gesture for her to strike. At least to try.

"Shut up."

She spat out those words, until the sword sparkled more strongly, resembling a torch rather than a blade. The "invitation" was accepted with all the passion she could muster – in two leaps she closed the distance between them and brought the blow down from above, drawing a figure eight in the air. The sabre whistled, stretching the empty space, while a kick flew into her back. Liv staggered forward on inertia, barely keeping her balance. Glancing over the edge of Hrimtur's wall for a moment, she swallowed, looking down into the gaping maw of the valley that descended through the fog. "High. Damn high."

But the Instinct stung her again, returning her mind to a state of battle and the adrenaline surged through her muscles. Liv managed to fight back with a half-turn, sinking her blade into the black metal, but felt her feet wobbling unsteadily at the edge of the wall.

These pirouettes, trying to catch the god who was slipping through her fingers like sand, were beginning to tire her out, and he could see it. Moreover, it amused him.

Heimdall was stronger, much stronger, and he could push her back again without breaking a sweat, so, cursing foully, she darted to the side, trying to get behind him and away from the edge as far as possible. The young god, of course, expected her move and counterattacked, pushing Liv aside. The blade slipped and her arm burned treacherously, aching from elbow to shoulder, as she stepped back again without making a single cut. With a jerk, the sabre drew a crescent in the air, aiming for Heimdall's wrist.

“Mmmm. No” he swung to the side, avoiding the blow again. Boredom crept into his gaze. "You've had enough of my attention for today.”

With a sigh, the god straightened up and stepped closer, without any haste or hesitation when the blade was pointed directly at his chest. Diving behind Liv's back, he yanked her by the shirt's collar, dragging the girl again like a naughty puppy. She squirmed, grabbed his leg, twisted, arched, and pushed her body forward to knock him to the ground. If Liv was happy about anything right now, it was that no one else saw how idiotic it looked. Before she could make out his expression, something quickly slipped past her eyes, and the world around her instantly turned white. It was the scabbard that finally cracked her on the forehead. “Oh, shit”.

“Bye-bye...“ Before she fainted, Liv saw the god lean down and flash his golden teeth. His voice echoed through her brain, mingling with the croaking of a raven, turning into one hideous ringing in her ears.

Then the abyss covered her, sucking in all sensations and sounds. The fatigue became unbearable.

***

When she woke up, Liv lay there for a while with her eyes closed and her muscles spreading over the surface. The place where she had been hit burned too much for a dead person, and the space around her was too soft and dry for a prisoner. So. She was alive and not in a prison. That was good.

For a moment, she was tempted to try to sleep, because the fatigue was still with her, if not for the creaking of the floorboards and the scuffling of what seemed to be a chair on the floor.

Lazily, the girl opened her eyes, tilting her head to the side. There was a pillow under her. It seemed to be taffeta. It was too refined for someone who had been slapped between the eyes, too good for a stranger. Liv squinted as the sleepy veil fell from her eyes, and then she could see where she was. And more importantly, with whom?

The stone walls were decorated with tapestries and weaponry, and the furniture was made by good craftsmen – a striking difference from the last time someone had managed to make her faint. Only back then it had not been so easy. And back then she had been lying in a room with no windows.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes as she noticed a familiar face in the shadow. Her bruised forehead throbbed even more when her gaze crossed with a purple one.

But besides Heimdall, there was another man here. He was sitting next to the bed, his elbows relaxed on the handles of the faldstool. He was an old man, carrying neither a sword nor armour, only a stick, a green hood framing his wrinkled neck, hiding a celestial-blue caftan with a golden thread underneath. He looked more friendly than Heimdall, but his blue eyes, or rather one single eye, looked at Liv with a cold, sharp insight that made it chilly. His gaze was not clouded by the weight of his years or by marasmus. His right eye socket was covered with a leather eyepatch. As the girl recovered, she sat up, and looked at the man, who was obviously Odin. He coughed and spoke:

"Good morning," his voice was quiet and hoarse, with notes of dry humour. They only intensified when the girl glanced up at the inlaid window, checking how long her "sleep" had lasted. It was late afternoon... "So. Young lady, how do you know Skadi and why were you so eager to see me that you got into a fight with my guard?"

Liv cleared her throat and shook her head slightly, still reeling from the pain, and met a familiar pair of eyes. Heimdall, leaning back against the stone wall, stared at her silently, waiting for an explanation. The purple lights flickered even more strongly in the shadows. She grimaced slightly and turned her head to Odin. "My name is Liv Rolandsdatter, Allfather. And Skadi she is..." She winced as her voice echoed through the walls of her skull, but massaging between her eyebrows, she continued, "She is my mother."

There was a pause during which Liv could see Heimdall's face go blank, for he never seemed to be at a loss for words, but now he was without comment. The old man, meanwhile, ran his finger over the carvings of the chair and answered with much more enthusiasm in his voice:

"So, she managed to keep you."

"She did?"

"Yes, yes, don't fidget, I'll do better" his fingers once again scratched the carving before resting on her forehead. This small touch enveloped her in a warmth that spread throughout her body, and in another moment, she would have probably fallen into his arms. The pain was gone.

"Thank you, I really feel better."

"You're welcome," he nodded slightly and removed his hand from her face. "To tell you the truth, I was waiting for you to show up."

"And that's why I was hit in the stomach in the first place?

"Heimdall," Odin said coldly, not even giving his son a glance, it was a short order.

The lad sighed, snorting like a cat in the dust, and stepped back from the wall. After that, he spoke dryly, without an ounce of conscience or remorse, of course:

"I'm sorry."

Yeah, that was all he could think to say after he'd hit Liv (not even just once). It was just funny, so she laughed. Shortly and cheekily. The young god twitched his eyebrows and pursed his lips, but said nothing, although she could see that there was plenty of what he wanted to let out. Perhaps even too much of it, but the presence of the Allfather made him hold back a bit, it seems.

Odin just shook his head.

"You are forgiven, prince," she sighed and turned her head to Odin, saying the last word through her teeth. Meanwhile, Heimdall's face was a mixture of confusion and irritation.

"Sjá hvat**..." The old man's lips curled in a half-smile and then he stood up, slapping his knees lightly "Well, then. Now that we have settled all the issues, it is time, Liv Skadisdatter, for you to meet the rest of your family."

Now Liv shared Heimdall's embarrassment, and their eyes were the size of Sceat coins.

"What?"

***

Liv looked into the abyss.

As she plunged into the white mist, the wooden platform under her feet shook, momentarily throwing her off balance. Stepping back from the edge, she glanced over the city that lay below them: along the grey roads that snaked between buildings, flowing down the moat, passing carved gates and coming together in a semicircle before the square where black specks of people bustled about their business; she was looking at the ribbons of canals and mill ponds, that wove around the city as veins, the fluffy clouds that rose above the sharp roofs, and the valkyries that flapped their huge wings like golden birds as they flew past the ropeway. The longer they descended, the more Asgard resembled a green lake in the palm of a rocky giant whose wrist replaced the sharp slope on one side of the half-walled city. Liv huffed at the ironic association, remembering the Aesir people's intense dislike of giants, and turned her gaze to a pair of boots with intricate patterns on the tanned leather. Heimdall had kept his eyes on her since they left Himinbjörg***, and the girl had been trying to pretend that he, the young god, did not exist. So, swaying slightly to the right again because of the unpleasant feeling of weightlessness in her legs, she turned her gaze to the Allfather.

From the side, he looked like a vulture searching for a field mouse, contemplating Asgard with his blue eye. His hooked nose, like a beak, twitched slightly with a smile as he noticed Liv watching. Something about that little emotion was uncomfortably familiar, but she didn't know what it was. Yet.

After a moment, Odin met her eyes, with the same slightly smiling expression. Now the "vulture" was looking at Liv. However, she did not shrink back, looking down, but straightened up, put her hands on her waist, and slightly clasped her sides. "It's all too simple. There are too few details."

"What did you mean by saying Skadi 'managed to keep' me?" she said on an exhale. No, that wasn't what she wanted to ask, but her curiosity overcame her. Liv had never been close to her famous mother, but also she did not believe she would ever have the opportunity to ask again.

The old man chuckled. Laughter, that's what she didn't like. It was the same as Heimdall's, only this one sounded sincere. Odin, meanwhile, leaned on a carved stick, looking at Liv with a piercing gaze.

"Oh, you know how it is, a scandal, a couple dozen broken plates and faces..." the god hummed, still smiling and seeing that Liv did not share his humour, "You were not supposed to happen. Njord and, frankly, me too, insisted that Skadi get rid of you."

The girl tilted her head slightly to the side and nodded silently, hinting for him to continue. The Allfather sighed, and the stick, or something in it, hissed quietly.

"She obviously didn't," he slapped his stomach lightly, "She walked around with her belly protruding as if to mock everyone. Until she disappeared, so that none of my ravens or her husband could find her, and when she came back, she pretended nothing had happened."

"Of course she did. She just got rid of a burden and then 'suddenly' remembered her responsibilities as a goddess."

"So that's how it is... My mother is not only a traitor to the nations but also unfaithful in her marriage and full of arrogance that even touches the gods." Liv slightly curled her lips in an ironic smile. She heard nothing new in this. Almost. "However, you haven't answered my question, lord, and you still haven't explained why you're letting me into your home so easily."

Liv could see out of the corner of her eye that Heimdall was shifting impatiently from foot to foot, apparently wanting to add something of his own, but he remained silent. She couldn't help but glare at him, although she quickly turned her head back to Odin, who was still smiling.

"Women are so inquisitive..."

"Yes, I am a woman, but please don't take me for an idiot," the girl crossed her arms over her chest, "The raven on the standard. It was you, wasn't it? Otherwise, I wouldn't have been allowed to cross the threshold, let alone be ‘gallantly’ stabbed between the eyes with a scabbard. You were watching…”

Suddenly, the platform stopped, and Liv swayed slightly on the inertia and whispered a curse under her breath. But in the meantime, the weightlessness in her legs had passed, flowing down her feet into the solid ground, so she breathed out a sigh of relief. Odin stepped forward without delay, leaving Liv to contemplate Heimdall's frown for a moment. The girl was not too impressed by this sight and instead looked around.

On the sides were green fields fenced with thin levadas, where distant figures could be seen, some still digging in the ground, and others with sticks chasing chickens, geese, turkeys, and horned stock – all this action crowded in front of the carved gate that led into the city. Light shone in the cracks of the houses, their sharp roofs peeking out beyond the wall, and the long shadows of the Hrimthur's wall were cut by the slowly setting orange sun. Liv could hardly deny that the evening in Asgard, even if she hadn't yet stepped outside the walls, was somewhat mesmerising, and the lights outside the gates were at least alluring. But she still had questions. A whole lot of questions.

Meanwhile, Heimdall tore his glittering eyes away from her and followed the Allfather, who was already waiting for them at the closed gate. Liv shrugged with her shoulder and in a couple of steps passed the distance separating her from Odin and his son. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a golden-green blur, steadily growing larger, jumping through the levadas and pushing people around. Soon enough, the "spot" took shape and a name.

"Gulltoppr!" At first, Liv did not realise that it was Heimdall's sonorous voice, but her attention quickly shifted to the snow-white grappling gradungr, which had passed the wooden fence in two quick leaps and, kicking up a cloud of dust, began to caress its owner's arm like a normal cat. A cat the size of a barn and with a head framed by a pair of curved horns. The girl had heard of gradungs before, but this was the first time she had seen this creature in person.

A dwarf shopkeeper she knew had once told her about these creatures, that they lived mainly in Vanaheim and, according to his description, had four horns, not two, and three heads – a lion's, a goat's, and a dragon's. But she could not remember which one he thought was "the thinkin’ ass one". Liv had been sceptical of such a colourful description even then, but now she saw with her own eyes that the words were a clear exaggeration from the mouth of a drunk. Also, the dwarf had been telling her about the time he was in a gang with six other dwarves and a lady with white skin like bone and lips the colour of hawthorn, but Liv hadn't been listening any further. By that point, she had seemed to be drunk too.

But she still found the proportions of the so-called Gulltoppr most amusing, and even more so their relation to Heimdall. For someone who showed so much audacity, the god was undersized, and compared to his riding "kitten" he seemed tiny and clumsy.

As soon as the thought crossed Liv's mind, she felt a purple gaze slide over the young god's shoulder and bore into her forehead. The white gradungr also turned its triangular head and shook its horns like a goat that was about to charge. For a moment, the girl really thought it was going to do so, so her calves tensed slightly. But she was wrong.

The animal quickly went back to nuzzling at the god's side, puffing loudly with its big velvet nose, while Heimdall pulled the gold-embroidered reins from the saddle's bow.

"No, you will walk, Heimdall." Odin, standing at the gate, tapped his stick lightly. Something metallic hissed in it again. "It must be a blade."

The young god whispered softly, Liv did not know what, and lightly patted Gulltoppr on the side, pushing him away. The "cat" responded with a dissatisfied grunt and flicked its pink tongue against Heimdall's cheek (the god jerked at this), but pulled away.

Liv let out a small laugh through her nostrils and shook her head, deliberately looking past Heimdall and his mount as if fascinated by a clay jug that stood alone on a wooden levada. Out of the corner of her eye, though, she was still looking at the gradungr and his yellow and white fur, which he was licking diligently, cat-like.

Odin spoke first:

"Yes, I have been watching you, and yes, I have been waiting for you, Skadisdatter. But I do not take you for an idiot or a fool. At most, I think you're lost and that I can show you the Way."

Liv crossed her arms over her chest.

"The way?" Liv arched an eyebrow and shook her head slightly, "My name is Liv Rolandsdatter. Not Skadisdatter, please."

The Allfather smiled slightly out of the corner of his eye, which was wrapped by wrinkles like a spider's web.

"Yes. But a mortal named Roland is insignificant and uninteresting, unlike your mother."

"So is it all a matter of blood? Or is it simply the Asgardian benevolence?"

"Partly both."

"Then please don't pretend that you're doing me a favour, that you need me for some reason and therefore have the right to ask questions, lord."

"Hmm. Right. The only difference is that we both need each other, Skadisdatter," the gate slowly opened in front of them, its metal hinges groaning, "and I am still doing you a favour by letting you into my kingdom."

Asgard was flooded with evening light, which reddened and glistened on the sharp roofs, the purple shadows gave the city a certain charm. All cities looked charming at this time, despite the number of vermin and rats that might inhabit them, but Asgard was obviously different. And it wasn't even that it was a city of gods, heroes, and generally those whose bright faces and shining armour the skalds were so fond of singing about – Asgard was clean. As Liv walked down the street, she didn't see a single puddle or piece of trash, which is so common in large settlements, especially those surrounded by walls. Even the Anglo-Saxons, who were so fond of accusing the Danes of being untidy, could have envied the absence of mud and sewage stains. Although, perhaps, they would have been most upset by the fact that the theory of the "All-Powerful One God" turned out to be false.

But like all cities at this time, Asgard was falling asleep, and the closer the evening shadows approached the cobblestone streets, the more lethargic its inhabitants became. People in brightly coloured clothes embroidered with golden thread (apparently the Aesir were very fond of this material), slowly walked the streets, tired from the early rising, the lunch and dinner fuss and ready for evening rest, but all of them were certainly interested in one person. The person who obviously does not belong here is Liv. Some tried to tactfully hide their interest, glancing as if in passing, some suddenly looked around like a goat that had mistakenly bumped into a fortress wall with its horns, some leaned over the balcony, excessively straightening the laundry that was hanging down, some even seemed to have choked on the contents of a mug. The more gawking Asgardians Liv counted, the more she was convinced of her guess - guests were at least rare, at most a curiosity. Especially in such high-profile company as the Allfather and Heimdall.

However, Liv was cold to the extra attention, and in fact, she was somewhat annoyed by it, which would make it harder for her to escape if the opportunity came up.

"She would have loved and hated this city, like so many other things," she thought. Liv hummed, lightly twirling her braid with a black strand woven into it as they walked down the street under the watchful eye of the locals: Odin tapping his heels and wooden stick on the cobblestones, the girl following him, stealing glances and reading the golden lettering on the bracketed signs, Heimdall was the last to go, but she could hear him steadily following her step by step.

The last time someone had kept up with Liv's pace like that, this someone had tried to steal the pouch that was attached to her scabbard belt, so almost instinctively she smoothed the strap with the edge of her hand, but she never found the small goatskin pouch. Liv whispered a curse, figuring that she'd lost it before they'd even reached the city and that it must have been left lying on the Wall somewhere.

"Damn it to Hell. There's no going back now." she thought, and when she heard a soft laugh under a breath, looked around. Ignoring Heimdall was harder than she had expected.

“So you can really read minds?" She let out, again, asking questions that hardly made sense, but to think that even her thoughts were not completely hers now was at least uncomfortable, at most disgustingly disturbing.

"So you really are Skadi's daughter?" Heimdall answered quietly, but that didn't lessen the irony in his voice. It seemed that Odin, who had been cutting through the street with a surprisingly brisk pace, accompanied by the tapping of his stick and the hissing of the blade hidden in it, had distanced himself from them enough for the young god to regain his talkativeness and insolence.

However, she was interested.

"Yes, hers." She twisted a smile that made the scar on her upper lip prickle again, "Do you think the Allfather would lie?

"I think you would lie if you had to."

“How apt," Liv agreed with feigned ease, "but you, the 'god of foresight', seem to be able to sense lies, so your question is meaningless.”

Heimdall huffed, still only a step behind her.

"Then it seems you're wasting your time asking me, too, when you know I can 'sense a lie'.”

“I know this only from the stories of mortals, and they are known to exaggerate the virtues of others and their own.”

“What else have mortals told you about us? I'm very curious to hear.”

“They also told me that you are wise and terse, Heimdall.”

His pace seems to have slowed slightly.

"How quickly we moved on to exchanging compliments," the god sighed theatrically, "I'm impressed, truly. And then you wonder why you get hit in the forehead.”

“What I'm not surprised about is that every conversation with you ends in this way, annoyingly often, if not always.”

“Something tells me you're speaking from a rich experience.”

Liv flinched when she heard the voice a little closer than she had expected and thought of pushing Heimdall away while turning, but her hand only touched the air when the god had already moved away. For a few moments, she stood in the middle of the square, silently measuring the Aesir with her eyes, trying to understand how he did it.

Involuntarily, Liv smoothed the coloured shawl around her waist again, that was hiding a part of her belt and often her leather purse, but her palm gently passed over her thigh, never coming across the mound of coins. It was such an involuntary movement that she didn't realise at first what it looked like from the side when she was staring the god straight in the eye. Her face barely seemed to flush as Heimdall gave her perhaps the most arrogant smile he could muster. She was wrong.

A moment later, his lips curled even more as he moved his shoulder slightly, bringing his right hand behind his back. Liv clutched the hilt of her sabre, waiting, but the god seemed to hold out his palm to her without noticing. And something in it, too.

"I don't need to read minds to know who you are, Skadisdatter" he flashed his teeth and gave his wrist a slight flick, drawing the girl's attention to the leather pouch in his hand.

"I think this is yours. Take it before I change my mind because your fidgeting is getting on my nerves."

Liv nodded slowly in gratitude and took the pouch in her hand, her fingers lightly touching the rough palm. She pressed her lips together, shook her head and said something like "thank you" as she exhaled, but the god was no longer listening. He walked on, joining Odin, who was leaning on a stick, waiting for them in front of a house with a sloping roof. It differed from the other buildings only in its more elaborate carvings and its location on a steep slope, the only part of the city not surrounded by a high wall and still bathed in the setting sun, its red disc now barely peeking over the wall.

Her fingers seemed to feel the distinctive obverse and her fingernail pecked at the sharp edge of the coin, so she fastened the pouch to her belt under her shawl and followed. As soon as she stepped closer, her foot slammed into a puddle with a cold smack. "No mud, eh?" Or perhaps she didn't want to notice it at first, as often happens. "Even a puddle that glistens with gold, reflecting the sky, is still a puddle."

Liv slid her muddy boot on the cobblestones and levelled herself with the Allfather and Heimdall. Odin almost solemnly, somewhat theatrically, it seems to run in the family to be somewhat theatrical, spreaded his arms:

"Welcome to the Great Lodge, Skadisdatter."

***

The room smelled of dust. Many tomes and scrolls, yellowed and worn, were crammed together in batteries on the shelves, some were leaning against the carved columns, green with old copper on their rods, among the candles with long strands of wax extending from them. Some tomes, which must have been worth a fortune, were scattered haphazardly or sometimes stacked in pyramids according to size and covered with cobweb patterns - the names of only a few of them were known to Liv, and even fewer were written in languages she was familiar with. The cabinet was not lacking in other curiosities, however, such as a wind chime from faraway Asia, a large Persian amphora made of green earthenware and covered with small runes whose meaning could only be guessed at, or a silk standard with a unicorn and a naked woman sitting on it, which Liv assumed had been woven somewhere in Northumbria. There was no shortage of weapons, as there had been in Himinbjörg, but they were given much less space and therefore less attention, although the An Creite shield with its white and red colours caught Liv's eye immediately. She wanted to pick it up, to trace her finger around the splinters at the centre, which could have been struck by a buzdugan, but despite herself, she did not. She quickly turned her gaze to Odin, who had already sat down in a high chair with carved arms. He caught her eye and tilted his head to the side:

“Do you like it?”

Liv moved her shoulder, feigning indifference, but they both knew it was a lie. Heimdall, who leaned back against the wall again, seemingly finding some comfort in the shadows, just huffed. "So just stand there and pretend you're part of the interior."

"An impressive collection." the girl nodded, but her eyes darted around again, taking in the new relics that had been collected from all nine realms, "To put it modestly."

The Allfather answered with a short laugh, leaning against the surface of the oak table, which was also covered with books.

Eventually, she came over and crouched down beside the white and red shield. Liv could feel Heimdall's cold, weighing gaze, which slightly curled his lips, and Odin's somewhat sharp one, which remained unchanged in his facial expression, while she kept talking.

"Every time you see one of these, you involuntarily start thinking about the former owners." Her finger touched the cracks in the shield, immediately getting smeared with a thick layer of dust. "No, it's not a buzdugan. Perhaps it was struck from above and was of superhuman strength. But the one who held it stood up, while the shield was simply crumpled from the core. If it wasn't a buzdigan, then it must have been a hammer?" The girl thought as she measured the old shield in her hands. "You involuntarily start thinking, did they give up their belongings willingly, or were they asked for them very politely? Does it even happen that the gods ask?"

Mortals talked a lot about the gods, whether Greenlanders, Danes, or Swedes – everyone had their own interpretation and vision of the powers, achievements, and, of course, the Aesir's lineage, but never, in any of legends and interpretations, was the Allfather inherent in restraint. The blood of the Aesir was hot, and the blood of the Odinsons was hotter than heated iron.

“Let us be prudent, Skadisdatter.”

“So let us be prudent, Allfather. Unless prudence is not talking about art or half-heartedly making hints," Liv straightened up, the light from the candles flickered as if from a breeze that had slipped through the door behind her (which she believed to be tightly closed). "What do you want from me?"

Odin did not pause, he answered suddenly, and his words surprised her no less, embarrassing her for a moment:

"You are much alike Skadi. A striking resemblance indeed," the wrinkles at the corners of his mouth deepened into a half-smile, "She too came to me for help at first. Even when she was unable to set conditions or ask questions, she was still defiant, and then when she received an offer from my son Baldur*, she refused. I wonder where the similarities end.” The Allfather tilted his head expectantly to one side.

"Probably on the lack of interest in morganatic marriages* and the need for help."

The old god laughed briefly and shook his head.

"No, I'm not proposing any marriage to you. I'm just saying that out of respect for your mother, I don't want to turn our relationship into a boring exchange of favours."

"For some reason, our conversations always turn to my mother. But I'm listening."

"I'm asking you to be my factotum."

It took Liv a few seconds to recall the word, which was spoken in exactly the same tone as when an accountant lends you money.

"In human terms, 'run errands for you' ".

Heimdall snorted indignantly, but Odin stopped him with a wave of his hand. This was enough to silence the young man.

"I would have been more economical with snarky responses, but I am happy to answer your questions and remarks, Skadisdatter.”

"That's the thing, you're not answering them, you're dodging them." Liv crossed her arms over her chest, but then her fingers reached for a small braid where a strand of hair was weaved. She started rubbing it gently, twisting it around her finger, "Besides, how did you know I was coming?

"The children of the gods always come. Sooner or later."

“I wonder why? Does your generosity with golden apples and magic rings* have something to do with it?”

"Partly." Odin intertwined his fingers, each one sparkling with a golden ring. He wasn't smiling, but his blue eye still twinkled with amusement. "Whether out of a realisation that they do not belong among mortals or after they have flirted with their power, because their wounds heal faster and their hands can bend swords at unusual angles, they end up at best, dying in their sleep with a knife in their throat, cut by yesterday's allies or being pierced by arrows like a hedgehog with needles, dying a nasty and slow death. Unless, of course, their own blood kills them before they reach adulthood," the corner of Liv's mouth twitched slightly as the image of dirty, sticky with sweat sheets came to mind. Her nostrils tickled with the ephemeral echoes of verbena and incense. She hadn't known back then that her sickness was neither a jinx nor a god’s trail – Liv was simply unlucky enough to be another mistake between a mortal and a goddess. But the memory quickly faded and lost its colour as Odin continued, lightly twirling the ring on his index finger. If the girl hadn't been trying so hard to hide her slight trembling, she might have noticed a certain smugness in the Allfather's tone. "Sometimes demigods are characterised by sacrifice, heroism, and occasionally death in their beds without the burdensome knowledge of their origins. However, no matter what the whim of Fate, they end up here. Alive or dead.”

“Very well. Then, in the end, what kind of demi-god am I?”

“One of those who realise that strength alone is not enough before their naïvety and impulsiveness become their undoing. Skadi offered herself to balance the relationship between gods and giants, but she did so on her own terms.”

Liv pressed her lips together, knowing full well that she was hardly in a position to make any conditions. She ran her finger over the pouch, but Odin silently put something on the table. And without a word, he pushed it forward. The perfect edge, the distinctive features of the hook-nosed profile, and the smooth surface of the Asgardian coin was surprisingly similar to the one she had recently fingered in her leather bag. Heimdall tilted his head slightly to side, curling his lips in that same cocky smile – "Of course, he's managed to replace it. After all, he takes me for an idiot."

"The magic of giants is always fascinating, although it probably makes even less sense than the magic of dwarves. I assume, like the sword, it was a gift from Skadi, right?"

"Yes." Liv lied. But quickly. Too quickly.

Odin smiled slightly, pretending to believe it, and Heimdall's face twitched slightly as if he had just been bitten between the eyebrows. The Allfather spun the ring around his finger once more and pushed the coin aside with a sigh, it quickly disappeared among the papers and books on his table.

"I am only concerned that someone else might be able to slip into my kingdom like a thief through a crack in the door, Skadisdatter.”

"No thief is ever expected, no thief is ever welcomed with open arms into one's home, and even less often is a thief ever hired."

Odin leaned back into the chair easily and intertwined his fingers across his chest, a smile still playing on the old god's lips.

"And almost always, thieves lie. You claimed to want to help me when you first came, and now you're lying to my face. What do you really want, Skadisdatter? Do you want me to trust a liar?"

Liv blinked uneasily and answered with a little bit of a shudder. She tried to be more sincere this time.

"I'm sick of watching Midgard snow for years in a row, covered in frost, as people are dying and I'm sick of my inaction and powerlessness. I want to help stop it, if possible."

"However, this is not a self-interest, but an altruistic one. That's why I don't believe in it." The Allfather glanced slightly at the young god, who hadn't revealed his presence with anything but angry snorts before.

A purple gaze flickered from under the lad's furrowed brow, and he stood frozen for a few moments, looking at Liv, who in turn stood still as well. Then he rolled his eyes and nodded.

“She believes in it. Wants to believe.”

*End of the chapter* whew

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braveclementine · 2 months

Text

Thanos

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OC Elizabeth Lightwood. I do not condone any copying of this.

TWO YEARS LATER

"This is the Asgardian refugee vessel Statesman. We are under assault. I repeat, we are under assault. The engines are dead, life support failing. Requesting aid from any vessel within range. We are twenty-two jump points out of Asgard. Our crew is made up of Asgardian families. We have very few soldiers here. This is not a warcraft. I repeat, this is not a warcraft."

Elizabeth didn't know what to do. She was hiding her children behind her, while also trying to hold one of them at the same time.

Halfdan and Astrid were behind her, only eight years old. They both looked so much like their father, though Astrid had straight black hair unlike Halfdan's curly hair. They both even had his blue eyes and Halfdan had the point to his chin and Astrid had his smile.

They were holding the two of the two-year-olds: Tove who was female and also had Loki's blue eyes though Elizabeth's brown hair and Hogun who she had named after her best friend on Asgard and had been Tove, Hogun, and Sages' god-father. And now, he was dead.

The entire ship was on fire and she was crouched down. She had tears in her eyes, looking across the ship to see the brave fighter, Heimdall, laying down on the wreck in pain, bleeding.

"Hear me and rejoice." A new voice said, a voice that belonged to one of the invaders. He walked past Heimdall and Elizabeth clutched Sage harder in her arms, the little two year old girl, her eyes wide open, but she didn't cry. "You have had the privilege of being saved by the Great Titan."

Elizabeth often had trouble holding her tongue, especially when she was passionate about something or someone she loved. But she bit down hard, tasting blood, because now as not the time to get sassy.

"You may think this is suffering. No. It is salvation. Universal scales tip toward balance because of your sacrifice."

There were more of the alien creatures, walking around, over dead bodies. She kept a hand on her sword and she knew her children were behind her, with knives in their hands. They would fight, but they would all die. And she didn't know how to protect them.

Loki was standing in the front, with Thanos in front of him. He was the only one standing, in fact, his back to her.

"For even in death, you have become children of Thanos."

Thanos was standing over Thor now, who was unconscious on the floor. "I know what it's like to lose." He addressed Loki, as the others moved around, stabbing the Asgardians that were still breathing on the floor. Elizabeth tightened her invisibility spell as much as she could like Loki had taught her, but she wouldn't be able to hold it much longer, not for six people, even if five of them were children.

"To feel so desperately that you're right, yet to fail, nonetheless." He bent down, picking up Thor with one hand. Thor choked and moaned in his grasp. Elizabeth could hear Astrid crying quietly. "It's frightening. Turns the legs to jelly. But I ask you, to what end? Dread it, run from it, destiny arrives all the same."

They were pointing a weapon at Loki's head now, all of them surrounding Elizabeth's husband and soulmate. She had to throw an arm out to stop Halfdan from rushing them with his knife, though she wanted to do the same.

"And now, it's here. Or should I say, I am." Elizabeth saw the purple gem that was already in his gauntlet. The first of six infinity stones for him to have.

"You talk to much." Thor grumbled, blood pouring out of his mouth. He'd lost an eye in their fight with Hela, they had lost so much in the fight with Hela. And now, they were losing everything. All of the people. Soon, the Asgardian population might be wiped out of existence completely.

"The Tesseract. Or your brothers and wifes' heads." Thanos said. Elizabeth's breath hitched when Thanos pointed at where Elizabeth was hiding the rest of her family. "I assume you have a preference."

"Oh, I do." Loki said. "Kill away."

Thanos pressed the gem to Thor's head and one of the lackeys immediately approached Elizabeth's corner. She wasn't sure if it was a lucky guess or if her shields were down, but she decided to act.

Thrusting Sage into Astrids' arms, she dropped the spell completely, lunging at the monster in front of her. The two of them immediately started combat, their swords clashing against one another. She was strong, far stronger than anyone Elizabeth had ever fought before, even T'Challa in his vibranium suit or Tony in his titanium one.

"ALL RIGHT, STOP!" Loki shouted.

"We don't have the Tesseract." Elizabeth could just barely hear Thor say as Thanos stopped what he was doing to him over the clashing of their swords. But she couldn't stop her fight with the woman in front of her- if you could even call her a woman. "It was destroyed on Asgard." There was a pause and then, "You really are the worst brother."

"I assure you, brother. . . the sun will shine on us again."

Elizabeth pushed away from the woman, retreating a few steps to come to Loki's side, holding a hand out at her kids so they would stay put.

"Your optimism is misplaced, Asgardian."

Loki immediately retracted the glowing cube in his hand, "Well, for one thing, I'm not Asgardian. And for another. . . we have a Hulk."

Loki tackled Thor out of the way and Elizabeth shielded her kids as Hulk came through, bashing Thanos over and over. Loki came to her immediately, wasting no time in pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss.

"I love you." Loki whispered. "Forever."

"I love you forever." Elizabeth choked out, kissing him again.

Hulk was defeated far to easily for Elizabeth's liking. Thor attacked him when Hulk was down and was immediately captured in metal by the Squidward looking dude.

Elizabeth glanced over and Heimdall met her eyes. He nodded slightly to Hulk and she understood immediately.

"Get to Hulk." She whispered to her children and they went quietly, making their way to the Hulks' side.

"Allfathers." She heard Heimdall start to say. "let the dark magic flow through me one last time."

Elizabeth couldn't look at Heimdall as he started to activate the Bifrost. She met Thor's eye and knew he understood. But Loki was gone, scheming she was sure. She let out a pained cry, wanting to see him one last time. The rainbow light started to envelope her, "LOKI I LOVE YOU." She screamed as loudly as she could, before she was gone.

🎃 ::::: 🧡 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 🧡 ::::: 🎃

"NO!" Loki heard Thor scream as Heimdall was killed. Loki breathed in, almost shakily. At least his wife and children were safe. And they would be able to alert Midgard of the doom coming to them. His wife and children were safe. That was all that mattered. "You're going to die for that."

Ebony Maw lazily swiped his hand so that the metal clamped over his brothers mouth. He lifted a finger to his mouth, "Shh."

"My humble personage." Ebony presented the Tesseract to him. He knelt, "bows before your grandeur." Loki watched as Thanos took off his armor. "No other being has ever had the might nay, the nobility to wield not one, but two Infinity Stones." Thanos plucked the glowing cube from Ebony Maw's hand.

"The universe lies within your grasp."

He crushed the cube in hand, blowing on it gently like it was hot, before lifting the blue stone between his fingers, glass tinkling to the ground. He placed it beside the purple one, a blast of blue energy going through the ship.

"There are two more stones on Earth. Find them, my children, and bring them to me on Titan."

"Father, we will not fail you." The womanly one said, as all of them bowed.

"If I might interject." Loki said quickly. "If you're going to Earth, you might want a guide. I do have a bit of experience in that area." He said with a smile, hoping this was all going to work. He was the master of lies and manipulation, but he had never done them on a Titan as powerful as this one. Nay, a Titan as powerful as this one that had controlled him.

"If you consider failure experience." Thanos said slowly.

"I consider experience, experience." Loki retorted. "Almighty Thanos, I, Loki, Prince of Asgard. . . Odinson. . ." He looked over at Thor, hoping he knew what he was doing, "the rightful kind of Jotunheim, god of mischief," He let the dagger form in his hand behind his back, "do hereby pledge to you, my undying fidelity."

He knelt, as though bowing, before thrusting upwards, his knife aimed for the throat. But blue energy stopped him, just inches away. Thanos didn't even look fazed.

"Undying?" Thanos questioned as he grabbed Loki's wrist, the blue fading as he lowered the stone, "You should choose your words more carefully." He twisted Loki's wrist so that he had to drop the weapon, before lifting him up by his throat.

It was a different sort of pain from dying before. Or coming close to death anyways. The air was gone completely from his lungs and he could already feel a sort of pressure against his forehead. And on top of that, he could suddenly feel Elizabeth's screaming pain through their bond. That she knew he was dying. And it was hurting her.

"You. . ." He choked out, kicking his legs a little. He struggled to get free, but he could not. "Will never be. . . a God."

And then Thanos snapped his neck.

🎃 ::::: 🧡 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 🧡 ::::: 🎃

"Seriously, you don't have any money?" Stephen asked, dressing in a T-shirt and jeans as he and Sam walked down one side of the grand staircase, hand in hand. He was talking to Wong, a fellow sorcerer, as he walked down on the other side.

"Attachment to the material is detachment from the spiritual." Wong responded.

"I'll tell the guys at the deli." Stephen chuckled, "Maybe they'll make you a metaphysical ham on rye."

"Oh. Wait, wait, wait. I think I have two hundred."

"Dollars?" Stephen asked while Sam chuckled, used to the banter now between the two wizards.

"Rupees."

"Which is?"

"Uh, buck and a half."

Stephen sighed, "What do you want?"

"I wouldn't say no to a tuna melt."

Suddenly, they heard a huge crash behind them. They all covered their heads with their hands and then turned around. Stephen's cloak came around and Sam saw the Bifrost light not unlike that of which Thor and Elizabeth often had used to travel to and from Earth, but hadn't been seen in almost two years.

They all raced up the staircase, Wong already firing up his orange shields.

Sam looked down to see Elizabeth on her face and Bruce on his back, turning from green to normal. There were also two kids who looked like they could be anywhere between seven and ten, along with three babies.

"Thanos is coming." Bruce gasped.

"Bruce! Elizabeth!" Sam shouted, dropping down into the hole with them. He quickly checked that the babies were all breathing.

"He's coming." Bruce said again.

"Who?" Stephen asked.

"Elizabeth?" Sam asked, rolling her over now that he knew the kids were alright.

She rolled over and he saw that her face was tear stained and blotchy. "Sam." She sobbed.

"Hey, whoa, it's okay." He said, pulling her into a hug. "Elizabeth, whose Thanos? And why is he coming here?"

But she couldn't answer, to distraught. He looked over at the oldest boy. "What happened?"

"Sam, let's get them out of the hole." Stephen commanded. Sam quickly handed the babies up to Stephen and Wong and then helped Elizabeth out. Bruce got out himself and then Sam.

"Thanos attacked our ship." The boy, who said his name was Halfdan said. He was trembling, looking like he wanted to cry. He clutched a little girl in his arms. The elder girl hugged Elizabeth tightly as both of them cried. "He killed everyone, except us, Uncle Thor, dad, and Heimdall. Heimdall got us to safety but. . ." Halfdan rubbed his eyes. "Mom has been crying and. . . she screamed as we were falling. I think our dad. . ."

"It's okay kid." Sam said gently.

"And he's coming here, the man who did this?" Wong asked sharply.

The boy nodded.

"Okay."

"I'm going to kill him." Elizabeth said, staggering to her feet suddenly. "I'm going to kill Thanos."

Sam wrapped his arms around her, "Elizabeth wait. Just wait. You have your kids, we need to get them to safety first."

"They're safe here, aren't they?" Elizabeth hiccupped, but sank down on the steps, burying her face in her hands.

Stephen looked over at Sam, "Is there anyone on Earth?"

"Y/N, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, definitely Bucky Barnes. But the only ones I know you can get into contact with are Y/N and Tony."

"I can portal her straight to the Compound." Stephen nodded. "Um, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth looked at him, wiping her eyes. "Y-Yeah?"

"Is it okay if you take the kids to the Avengers Compound? Y/N Stark is there with her children and Tony should be there as well. Rhodey too."

"Um sure." She whispered, standing up.

"Alright." Stephen said, creating a portal onto the grounds of the Avengers Compound. Elizabeth picked up a child and left through the portal.

"Hey," Sam said suddenly. "I'm going to go with them. If there really is a fight here, Tony has the phone to call Steve and the others that are on the run. If I can get to the phone sooner-"

"Okay." Stephen said, pulling Sam into a kiss. "I love you."

"I'm staying with you guys." Bruce wiped his own eyes and Sam looked at him. "Thor. . . Thor is gone too, I think."

Sam squeezed Bruce's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

He nodded, "I'll. . . we'll kill this fucker."

Sam nodded and then hurried into the portal after her.

🎃 ::::: 🧡 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 🧡 ::::: 🎃

Tony had gone on a run with Everleigh that morning. Y/N of course, had to stay on the Compound with their newly born son Arlo.

"How about we go and get some ice-cream, now that we've finished our run, huh?" Tony asked his nine-year old daughter, panting a little. "You know we have our favorite ice-cream spot down around the corner."

"Then it's just around the corner, not down around the corner." Everly laughed.

"Very true lovebug." Tony chuckled.

Suddenly, he heard a very loud, professional voice ask, "Tony Stark."

He started, turning and Everleigh stopped by his side. "I'm Doctor Stephen Strange." He saw a man wearing blue robes with a red cape standing there. A portal- he assumed that's what it was- was behind him. He could see a broken staircase behind him as well, "I need you to come with me." Tony just stared and Everleigh grabbed his hand, "Oh and uh, congratulations on the new baby, by the way."

"I'm sorry," Tony responded quickly. "I thought Stephen Strange was Sam's doctor soulmate, not. . . whatever you are."

"We need your help." The man didn't respond. "Look it's not overselling it to say that the fate of the universe is at stake."

"And who's we?" Tony demanded. He then turned shocked when Bruce came to stand next to the wizard person.

"Hey, Tony."

"Bruce." Tony said, voice laced with surprise. Bruce came to stand in front of him, shaking his head. Tony could see his eyes were laced a little red and he asked, "You okay?" And then Bruce hugged him tightly.

Once he had settled down a little, wiping his eye with his thumb, Tony knelt near Everleigh, "You know how to get home to mommy, right?"

"Yes Daddy." Everleigh said solemnly.

"Good." Tony said firmly. "Then you run as fast as you can to her, understand?"

Everleigh nodded.

"I can portal her to the compound." The man said, opening a second portal which showed the Compound. Tony could already see Y/N far in the distance, talking to another woman.

"That's Elizabeth." Bruce explained, "Her and her kids. Long story short but Loki's dead. All the Asgardians are dead."

"Go." Tony said to Everleigh, who scampered through the portal and ran towards her mother. Then he followed the wizard and Bruce back inside.

He sat on a couch in what was known as the New York Sanctorum, watching another sorcerer show off some astral projections and tell a story about the infinity stones.

"At the dawn of the universe, there was nothing. Then, Boom. The Big Bang sent six elemental crystals, hurtling across the virgin universe."

There were so many corrections Tony wanted to make in the speech, but he kept quiet.

"These infinity stones each control an essential aspect of existence."

Each one was highlighted as they named it.

Blue.

"Space." Strange said.

Red.

"Reality."

Purple.

"Power."

Orange.

"Soul."

Yellow.

"Mind."

The one inside of Vision, Tony made note.

"And time." Strange said, looking down at the necklace thing he was wearing, opening it up to reveal the green stone that was inside of it.

"Tell me his name again." Tony demanded. He hated seeing Bruce so broken like this.

"Thanos." Bruce said. "He's a plague, Tony. He invades planets. He takes what he wants. He wipes out half the population. He sent Loki, brainwashed him. The attack on New York, that was him."

"This is it." Tony whispered. "What's our timeline?"

"No telling. He has the Power and the Space Stone." Bruce said. "That already makes him the strongest creature in the whole universe. If he get his hands on all six stones, Tony. . ."

"He could destroy life on a scale hitherto undreamt of." Stephen finished.

Tony stretched against the banister, "Did you seriously just say 'hitherto undreamt of'?" He asked.

"Are you seriously leaning on the Cauldron of the Cosmos?" Stephen retorted.

"Is that what that is?" Tony asked, letting go quickly as he felt something like fabric hit him. He gave Stephen a look and then said, "I'm going to allow that."

"If Thanos needs all six, why don't we just stick this one down the garbage disposal?"

"No can do."

"We swore an oath to protect the Time Stone with our lives." Wong replied.

"And I swore off dairy but then Ben & Jerry's named a flavor after me." Tony retorted. "So-"

"Stark Raving Hazelnuts." Stephen said in what almost sounded like an ashamed tone. . . but it couldn't possibly have been.

"Not bad." He responded.

"A bit chalky." Stephen said slowly.

"A Hunk of Hulk of Burning Fudge is our favorite." Wong informed Bruce, who looked utterly confused.

"That's a thing?" Bruce yelped.

"Whatever. Point is, things change." Tony responded.

"Our Oath to protect the Time Stone cannot change." Stephen said. "And this stone may be the best chance we have against Thanos."

Tony responded with, "Yeah, so conversely, it may also be his best chance against us."

"Well, if we don't do our jobs."

"What is your job exactly? Besides making balloon animals?"

"Protecting your reality douchebag."

"Okay, guys. Could we table this discussion right now?" Bruce asked almost angrily. "Thor is dead. Loki is dead. Mine and Elizabeth's soulmates are gone. Forever. The fact is we have this stone. We know where it is. Vision is out there somewhere with the Mind stone, and we have to find him now."

"Yeah, that's the thing." Tony said uncomfortably.

"What do you mean?" Bruce asked.

"Two weeks ago, Vision turned off his transponder." Tony replied. "He's offline."

"What?"

"Yeah."

"Tony, you lost another super-bot?" Bruce sounded so disappointed in him.

"I didn't lose him. He's more than that. He's evolving." Tony replied.

"Who could find Vision then?" Stephen asked.

"Shit." Tony hissed. "Probably Steve Rogers."

"Oh, great." Stephen muttered.

"Maybe. But. . ."

"Call him." Bruce demanded.

"It's not that easy." Tony said, looking at Bruce over his shoulder. "God, we haven't caught up in a spell, have we?"

"No."

"The Avengers broke up. We're toast."

"Broke up? Like What? Like the Beatles?"

"Cap and I fell out hard." Tony muttered. "Sort've."

"Not quite true." Stephen interjected. "The Government made them choose and they all fought each other in an Avengers Civil War. Half of them like Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and Sam Wilson are on the run. The other half like Y/N Stark, Scott Lang, and Clint Barton are on House arrest."

"Either way, we're not on speaking terms." Tony grumbled.

"Tony." Bruce begged, near tears, "Listen to me. Thor's gone. Thanos is coming. It doesn't matter who you're talking to or not."

Tony sighed. He had always carried the phone on him, no matter where he went, just in case. Never thought he was actually going to need it. He flipped it open. "Flip phone." He muttered in disgust. He paused though, as he heard something.

He looked around, things slightly rattling. Stephens black hair was moving slightly in a wind. "Say Doc, you wouldn't happen to be moving your hair, would ya?"

"Not at the moment, no."

What kind of answer was that? When did he move his fucking hair then?

Car alarms started to beep outside, they could see people running past the doors of the Sanctorum, and could hear screams outside.

Tony was the first one out the door, opening it up, and then headed in the direction that people were running from. A woman and a man bumped into each other, both of them falling. He quickly helped the woman to her feet and she kept running without a word. A car crashed into a pole.

"Help him." He ordered.

"Wong!" Stephen shouted.

"Got it."

He put his glasses on. "F.R.I.D.A.Y. what am I looking at?"

"Not sure. I'm working on it."

"Hey! You might wanna put that Time Stone in your back pocket, Doc." Tony said, before taking off into a run.

Tony saw what basically looked like a flying donut in the sky. Chocolate, maybe some orange sort of goop inside of it.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y. evac anyone south of 43rd Street." Tony ordered. "Notify first responders."

Strange did some sort of spell, which stopped the wind. Tony looked over his shoulder at the wizard and he winked at him. Tony raised his eyebrows in acceptance and then looked to see where a blue light had beamed two creatures down from the sky. One was extremely tall and buff, with heavy armor. The other was thin and shorter, but looked a lot like a squid.

"Hear me and rejoice. You are about to die at the hands of the Children of Thanos. Be thankful that your meaningless lives are now contributing-"

"I'm sorry. Earth is closed today." Tony shouted, interrupting the monologue. "You better pack it up and get outta here."

"Stonekeeper. Does this chattering animal speak for you?"

"Certainly not. I speak for myself." Stephen said, stepping forwards, doing some really cool, dramatic, somewhat stupid hand motions to create shields, "You're trespassing in this city and on this planet." Wong did the same shields on the other side of him.

"He means get lost Squidward!" Tony shouted.

"He exhausts me. Bring me the stone." Squidward said and the stomping brute creature started towards them.

"Banner, you want a piece?" Tony asked.

"Mmm, no, not really." Bruce responded. "But when do I ever get what I want?"

"That's right." Tony responded back. "I know it's been a while. It's gonna be good to have you, buddy."

"Okay. Shh. Let me just. . . I need to concentrate here for a second." Tony looked at him skeptically. He was green at the neck and knuckles, but nothing more. "Come on, come on man."

"Where's your guy?"

"I don't know. We've sorta been having a thing."

"It's no time for a thing."

"I know!"

"That's the thing right there. Let's go."

Stephen looked at him in expectation. "Dude you're embarrassing me in front of the wizards." Tony said.

"Either I can't or he won't." Bruce responded.

"It's okay. Hey, stand down. Keep an eye on him. Thank you." Tony said, realizing the emotional stress of losing his entire family on the soulmate side probably was a lot. He thought it would fuel the Hulks rage, but perhaps he was wrong.

He stepped forwards, pulling the strings of his jacket, then tapping the new arc reactor on his chest. He took his glasses off as the suit seemed to melt onto his skin, the helmet coming over his face. He lifted his shield in time to counter the attack with the brutes club, before bashing him with his fist. Light jets came from his back, shooting a beam of energy that sent the brute flying backwards, which Squidward flicked away easily. The beams went back into Tony's suit.

"Where'd that come from?" Bruce asked in excitement.

"It's nanotech, you like it?" Tony asked, "A little something I-"

Suddenly he was sent skyrocketing as the ground underneath him shot up. He swooped around through the wizards, blasting the car that was sent their way.

"Gotta get that stone out of here, now." Tony said.

"It stays with me." The angry wizard said.

"Exactly. Bye." Tony said, then flew towards the aliens. He dodged the concrete walls, but was hit by something metallic and powerful enough to send him all the way back to where he'd been running earlier with Everleigh.

"Tony, you okay?" Bruce's voice called out, footsteps pounding on the ground as he ran over. "How we doing? Good? Bad?"

"Really, really good." Tony said sarcastically from where he was laying seven inches down in the dirt, back against a tree. "Really good. Do you plan on helping out?"

"I'm trying. He won't come out." Bruce responded.

"Hammer." Tony pushed Bruce out of the way, then tried to beam the brute with his laser, but his shield blocked it, cutting down trees instead with backlash.

Tony was suddenly stopped by being crushed by a hammer, by a very slender figure in a red suit. "Hey man!" The kid greeted the alien cheerfully. "What's up Mr. Stark?"

"Kid, where'd you come from?"

"A field trip to MOMA." He responded as he was picked up and tossed across the park. It gave Tony a chance to fire a laser beam up his side.

"What's this guys problem Mr. Stark?"

"Uh, he's from space. He came here to steal a necklace from a wizard." Tony said and the two of them continued to fight the brute. Tony watched Stephen fly by, seemingly unconscious or something. "Kid that's the wizard. Get on it."

"On it." Peter said, taking off after Stephen.

After a few minutes, he heard Peters' voice, "Um, Mr. Stark, I'm being beamed up."

"Hang on, kid." Tony said, extremely stressed out. He tried fighting the metal contraption around his body. The brute ran at him with a sword, leaping, but before he could come down on him, a portal opened up and the brute fell into a snowy tundra. Wong cut the portal off as he lunged upwards, the hand being cut off.

"Wong you're invited to my baby shower." Tony said, before blasting off the ground and taking off after the kid and wizard. "Give me a little juice F.R.I.D.A.Y." His feet melded together into one big booster to give him some extra speed. "Unlock 17-A."

"Pete you gotta let go, I'm gonna catch you." Tony instructed.

"But you said save the Wizard." Peter argued. "I can't breathe."

"We're to high up. You're running out of air."

"Yeah." the kid gasped, "That makes sense." And then suddenly, "Mr. Stark it smells like a new car in here!"

"Happy trails, kid." Tony hovered over him. "F.R.I.D.A.Y. send him home."

"Yep."

"Oh come on!"

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