I didn't know how much time there was between the attack on SHIELD's flying aircraft carrier and the battle in New York, but it couldn't be all that long.
A matter of hours at most, just enough for everyone to catch their breath, talk it out, and — after learning of Coulson's death — for Stark to fly back home.
That was it, that was the timeline, the clock was ticking.
"Are you sure about this, Arthuria? Your plan is needlessly risky, and while I understand the political plot behind it, I still think going together would be better," Loki said as he rode beside me on one of Asgard's mighty steeds.
One that had even me jealous; Don Stallion was a fine steed, but a divine horse he wasn't.
"Sometimes risks must be taken to attain the result we seek, but I have full faith in you and Asgard's forces. This is the chance to show all of the universe that Loki Odinson is worthy of the throne he sits upon." I played into his pride and need to prove himself to distract him.
And it worked brilliantly, as he immediately forgot everything else but the glory that would soon be his.
"Indeed, there are still those who doubt me, like Sif and her lot, but they will soon realize that I am far more worthy than Thor ever was. Maybe I should even swing by Camelot and pick up Mjolnir while we celebrate this victory," he boasted.
"Indeed, once this is over, feast and celebrate we shall, both in Midgard and Asgard — perhaps across all the Nine Realms." I definitely had to bring my knights to a feast in Asgard; they deserved some fun.
"Then it is decided! Once victory is ours, I shall bring home the Tesseract and celebrate across the Nine Realms. Within each we shall feast!" He clearly liked the idea, which was fine — I did want to visit the other realms.
While a few of them weren't too friendly places — one being a frozen hell, and another a burning one — a few of them were places worthy of visiting. In particular I was curious about the Dwarves. As the greatest smiths in the universe, I was curious about how they would react to seeing my weapons, and those of my Knights; how would a Noble Phantasm look in their eyes?
"Well, Loki, this is where we part ways," I said as we reached the end of the Bifrost, with Heimdall's observatory in front of us — the man himself standing and waiting.
"Ah yes, do try not to be late. I would hate for you to have to take a supporting role during the celebrations," Loki jested before riding off with a laugh.
I couldn't help but shake my head at how different things were — how my mere presence had changed so much. Even here, even in Asgard, things were completely different from the canon timeline.
Thor was still a mortal in exile on Midgard, Loki had never tried to kill him, Odin had been sleeping for years. Even now, when the invasion of New York seemed poised to happen, Loki was one of the good guys.
And all because Thor didn't return home, there had been no fight between brothers; the Bifrost was still solid under my feet — or, well, Don Stallion's hooves — but the facts remained.
Earth was safer than ever, because yes, Thanos in his greed for the Space Stone still invaded, but this time, it wouldn't be just Thor coming to help, but the full might of Asgard.
Even if Thanos sent his full force to claim Earth, he would fail.
Having spent time in Asgard, I had come to realize just how potent its armies were. Sure, many were just drunks these days, but Loki had been spending years turning them back into warriors.
Asgard was once more becoming a frightening force in the universe, and all because the Warriors Three and Sif didn't go past Heimdall.
Truly, the wings of a butterfly could cause a storm across the cosmos.
"It has been a pleasure to host you, Lady Arthuria," Heimdall greeted as I approached.
"Indeed, Asgard has been nothing short of welcoming. My only regret is that I didn't meet the All-Father himself — perhaps next time, though." I gave him a faint smile.
"Indeed, the All-Father has slumbered for a while now. He is about ready to wake up." Heimdall gave no indication that he knew anything special.
Yet I had no doubt he was in communication with Odin; there's no way Odin would really leave Thor in Camelot with Mjolnir if he wasn't able to intervene if needed. Odin wasn't so weak he would collapse just because Loki yelled at him.
No, this was just him giving Loki a chance to prove himself, and I thought he had proven himself well — though he wasn't the only one given a chance.
Thor, too, had his… and it was coming up soon.
"Please, Heimdall, open the Bifrost!"
"Very well, Lady Arthuria. Safe journey," he said, inserting his sword into the pedestal, and a swirling portal opened up on the other side of the room.
"Come, Don Stallion," I gently spurred him on.
…
The fresh air of Earth hit me as soon as the colors of the Bifrost faded. As my eyes got used to the darkness of the night after that trip of bright light, I saw myself surrounded by Enforcement Knights.
"Welcome back, Your Majesty!" they all hailed me as one.
"It seems Agravain has been busy," I couldn't help but mutter as I saw what he had been up to while I was gone.
The number of Enforcement Knights patrolling the streets and walls had more than tripled since I left. And that was just what I could see.
I had no doubts that all throughout Albion the situation was much the same, with more guards around. No doubt, Agravain had pushed himself to summon as many as he could to bolster their numbers the moment I alerted him about the war.
"FATHER!!!" A loud voice filled the air before a crimson blur split the night sky and landed before me with a crash.
"Is it finally time to go to war?" Mordred asked, her entire body brimming with excitement.
Part of me wanted to tell her off for being excited about war, part of me wanted to join her, and part of me did admit to wanting to punt her across the city; but I suppressed that part — nothing good came from lingering on old resentment.
"Yes, Mordred, the time to set out has come. So stand, my Knight — stand with your king!" I said, pulling Excalibur from Avalon and raising the shining blade into the sky.
"Fuck yes!" Mordred shouted and slammed Clarent onto her shoulder plate.
"Mind your language around His Majesty," the cold voice of Agravain came moments later as he arrived flanked by the rest of the Round Table.
Not a single one of my Knights was missing.
To see them all like that, side by side, ready to fight — it filled me with a range of emotions. Part of me was happy to see it; another wished they would never have to see war again.
But in the end, even as Heroic Spirits, it was their fate to go to battle should the Counter Force call upon them, and while it was me who called them here, their fate hadn't changed.
"My Knights, this war will be one unlike anything we have fought before — against enemies beyond humanity; a battle for the fate of the world itself; one of justice against evil. Will you stand with me?" I asked as I sat on Don Stallion's back, Excalibur still above my head.
The answer was immediate — thunderous, unified, unshakable.
"As one!" they roared.
Their voices echoed through the air like a war-drum, shaking the very stones of Camelot's walls. The banners of Albion, embroidered with gold and white, flared in the wind as though catching fire from the conviction that filled the square.
I lowered Excalibur slightly, letting its golden light sweep across them — Gawain, Lancelot, Tristan, Bedivere, Galahad, Mordred, Agravain, and all the others gathered behind them. Their faces were resolute, not a trace of fear among them.
They had followed me across ages and legends, through glory and ruin alike. And now, they would follow me again — not for Britain, not for pride, but for Earth itself.
"I am pleased to know you still stand by my side, ready to ride into battle. Yet I am the king of this land, and can't leave it behind, lest my enemies take advantage of it. So
me of you must stay behind to defend it." My words dampened their excitement some.
They all wanted to stand by my side and fight, yet they also realized that there was no arguing with me on this, because they understood the truth in what I said — some had to remain to defend.
Agravain stepped forward immediately, as I knew he would. "Then let that duty fall to me, Your Majesty. Camelot will not fall while I draw breath."
I nodded — there was never any doubt. "I would trust none other with that task. Your resolve has never wavered, Agravain."
He bowed deeply, one hand over his chest. "It is my purpose. Go, and carve your victory. I will see to it that when you return, the heart of Albion still beats strong."
The others hesitated; they all wanted to go with me, but knew that some had to stay behind — torn between two duties. They hesitated.
Since they couldn't pick, I would have to do it for them. It was hard, but in this fight, I had to pick the best, the strongest; and when it came to Heroic Spirits, not everyone was equal.
"Sir Bors, Sir Palamedes, Sir Lamorak, Sir Gaheris, Sir Lucan, Sir Dagonet, Sir Gareth — I need you all to stay behind, to follow Agravain's command and defend the realm from all who might think to strike it while I and the others are away," I said, and at me calling their names, they looked disappointed.
"By your command, Your Majesty," Sir Bors said first, bowing his head with disciplined grace. "We will guard Camelot as though your very crown were set upon its walls."
The others followed suit — not joyfully, but with the quiet dignity of knights who understood the weight of their charge. Even disappointment could not dim their loyalty.
"See it not as being left behind," I told them, lowering Excalibur back into Avalon, "but as being entrusted with what is even more important. Our home."
Sir Palamedes inclined his head, eyes steady. "We will not fail you, my king. Let the world see your light — we shall keep its flame burning here."
"Good," I said softly. "Then all of Albion stands ready."
Agravain gave a curt nod, satisfied. "I will ensure coordination across all provinces. None shall breach our borders."
That left the ones who would come with me — the chosen few.
My gaze swept over them: Gawain, the radiant sun. Lancelot, the loyal sinner. Tristan, the melancholic archer. Bedivere, steadfast to the end. Mordred, my defiant heir, as fierce as she was unpredictable. And Galahad, purest of them all, his shield already glowing faintly in the half-light of dawn.
Percival, noble and humble, too would come, as would Ector and Kay — those who were like father and brother to me. Those two would not allow me to leave them behind, so I didn't even try. They stood apart from the others almost instinctively — warriors destined for the front.
"The enemy we will face knows not mercy, so do not show them any. They have sinned beyond mortal kind and drowned worlds in blood; show them the justice of humanity!" I said and called upon a light deep inside me.
"Bright Ehangwen!"
(End of chapter)
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