Morning in Asgard was unlike morning anywhere else.
While feasting, I hadn't had the chance to see it, as we were inside with roaring fires everywhere, but now—it was beautiful.
As Asgard was a landmass floating in space, mornings didn't work the same; the sun didn't rise, not truly. Instead, it felt like light bloomed like a flower—gentle light spilling over the horizon like molten gold. The air shimmered with energy; even silence carried the faint hum of life and power.
I stood upon one of the palace balconies, gazing down over the city that had not slept. The feast might have ended, but Asgard never truly rested. Its forges still blazed, its warriors still trained, its halls still rang with the echoes of yesterday's laughter.
For them, joy and war were simply two sides of the same song.
Loki leaned against the railing with a goblet in hand, drinking from morning's first light.
"You look as though you're waiting for an omen," he said lazily. "Or perhaps a war."
"Both seem inevitable," I replied. "One always follows the other."
He smiled faintly. "Well, I'm sure Heimdall will have answers for us. He had three days to look for this thief you spoke of. I would be disappointed if he found nothing."
"They will likely be prepared to hide from him, but given that, with my warning, he is actively looking, I too believe he will have found at least something," I said in agreement.
There was, after all, a big difference between seeing something hidden by sheer accident and finding it while searching for it.
"So, how did you enjoy the feast I threw in your honor? If I must say so myself, it was the greatest in a long time," Loki asked, clearly wanting to be praised for his efforts.
It was childish, but I knew that was who he was—someone who still had ways to go before he would fully grow up, and I knew that his father was to blame.
"It was a feast worthy of the gods—everything mortal legends make it out to be. A feast beyond even Camelot. Asgard knows how to feast." That much I could freely admit. Even Camelot never feasted like that.
I simply couldn't afford it, not without using the Holy Grail to produce enough food and drink for everyone.
And then there was the fact that few, even among the Round Table, could eat and drink like the Asgardians could.
Loki smirked with obvious pride. "Of course it was. I do have a sense for spectacle. It helps to remind the court that they still have something worth celebrating."
"You are a good lord. I doubt many could speak like you do. You have a way of using words… it's hard to describe." I had to admit, I wasn't as gifted with words as he was.
I, too, could inspire hope; I could be the ideal king. But Loki? He was a far better statesman than I could ever be.
He might be no warrior—perhaps even a sorry excuse of a mage—but there was no doubt that when he put his mind to it, he could be frighteningly good at diplomacy, a key aspect of ruling anything.
I, as the goddess Rhongomyniad, didn't do much of it. I mostly commanded from my throne or signed decrees after deciding on something. I found dealing with others troublesome. When I thought something the best, I just couldn't be bothered to deal with the details.
Who cared about that anyway? I was leading my people into a better future, and that was enough.
"What a hard look on your face. Scary eyes indeed," Loki spoke from beside me, joking and jesting. "I hope I didn't do anything to make you angry."
"Nothing like it—just compared myself to you and found myself lacking, is all." I waved off his concerns with a half-truth, something that made him brighten up.
Loki's grin widened. "Compared yourself to me? Oh, how the mighty have fallen. I'll have to remember this moment forever."
"You can try," I said dryly, "but given your fondness for mead, I doubt you'll remember much past noon."
He laughed—genuine and bright. "Fair point. Still, I'll take what victories I can get."
Before I could answer, a soft knock came from the doorway behind us. A young handmaiden stepped forward, bowing politely. "My lords, breakfast is being served in the east hall. The Queen requests your presence."
"Excellent," Loki said, draining the last of his drink and setting the goblet down on the railing. "Come, Lady Arthuria. I saw your appetite at the feast. Clearly Midgard can't satisfy you, so let Asgard do it instead."
"Careful, or I might never leave," I jested, and was glad his mother wasn't around; she seemed awfully keen on keeping me here for as long as possible, having already prepared dozens of outfits for me.
…
The dining hall was quieter than the one used for the feast, though "quiet" in Asgard was still a relative term. Long tables gleamed beneath the golden light filtering through vast crystal windows, and the smell of freshly baked bread and fruit wine hung in the air.
Frigga was already seated, serene as ever, with Heimdall standing nearby. His golden armor caught the morning light like liquid fire, and though he did not sit, his calm presence filled the room as surely as the scent of the food.
"Good morning," Frigga greeted us warmly. "I trust the two of you have recovered from the revelry."
"Perfectly," Loki said as he took his seat beside her. "Arthuria, however, might have drunk half the cellar."
I gave him a flat look. "Only what was offered. I didn't think it polite to waste Asgard's hospitality."
Frigga smiled into her cup. "A wise answer. Though I suspect my son is only teasing."
"I'm always teasing," Loki said, cutting into a slice of fruit bread. "It's the only way to stay sane in this family."
Heimdall inclined his head slightly. "Then allow me to bring something less pleasant to the table — news from the void."
The air seemed to still at that. Even Loki set down his fork.
"What have you seen?" Frigga asked, her tone shifting instantly from gentle to focused.
"The King's guest was correct," Heimdall said, looking to me. "Something is moving against Midgard — unseen but vast. A hand reaching through the dark between worlds."
Loki frowned. "The thief?"
"Likely," Heimdall said, "but they hide well. I couldn't find them, only see traces. It will be all but impossible to find them until the act — at which point it might be too late."
"All the more reason to prepare a response, to have a plan ready for the moment they act," I said after swallowing a mouthful of mutton.
Frigga nodded approvingly. "Spoken like a ruler. Midgard is fortunate that you take its safety so personally."
"Someone must," I said. "Asgard can't be expected to shield it eternally. It is already fortunate that you are all willing to help us this time, so it is only right that I too do my part as a native of Midgard."
"Wise words," Heimdall agreed, though his deep voice carried a note of warning. "But what troubles me most is not the strength of what I saw, but its silence. To hide so well — few can do that."
"Or maybe your sight isn't as perfect as you have always thought," Loki muttered, reaching for his wine.
"Indeed," Heimdall said, "more and more has my gaze been slipping — such as when the Jötunn invaded Asgard twice — but I doubt this is their action." His eyes never left Loki as he spoke.
Loki, to his credit, didn't falter under the gaze, clearly still believing that none knew the truth, despite me being certain all of us in the room knew he was guilty of those two times. "Yes, it's unlikely to be them," he just said with a smooth smile.
"I do have a plan," I said a moment later, drawing all eyes to me. "I wish to set off on my own from Camelot and arrive on my own. Asgard can act faster than I can—or at least according to my plan—which means that you can wait a bit longer, perfect your entrance for maximum impact."
Heimdall furrowed his brow. "It would be better to have your knights summoned here, and then all deploy from Asgard via the Bifrost; that way, we can react with overwhelming force at once."
Heimdall's suggestion hung in the air like the last note of a horn. The idea of calling the Round Table to Asgard and pouring its strength through the Bifröst made obvious sense — overwhelming force, a single united front.
Overall, it was the obvious choice, yet it ran counter to my own plan.
I wasn't blind to the undercurrents happening on Earth right now — the powers that were unhappy with me.
After all, the moment I declared myself King of Albion, Doom too declared himself Emperor, Magneto proclaimed himself King of Mutants, and Wakanda was revealed.
I surely looked like the cause of all the trouble plaguing every world leader.
They didn't like me, didn't like Albion, or the thoughts I awoke in people — ideas of a different system, one that worked for the people.
They wanted to get rid of me, and this… this was a good chance to show off a little more. Back then, when I destroyed that fleet by unleashing Rhongomyniad, everyone had been too scared to fight.
But clearly, they were starting to forget that fear and thought they had grown stronger.
My spies told me of many projects — weapons of tomorrow.
Clearly, I needed to remind them that mortals couldn't touch the divine.
They had seen beings like the Hulk bleed, and through me and my Knights the same.
But heroic spirits, even when given a body, were completely different. In the end, tech just didn't work against them — against me.
"I understand the reason, but I have my own. I hope you will understand my situation as well."
Frigga's eyes softened, though her tone remained firm. "You are indeed a king, and once more, I think it would be a good idea for you to accept rule over all of Midgard. We would support you."
Loki nodded.
"Please, I have no intention of doing such. Merely to show my might — I fear if I arrive with the army of Asgard, my performance will be drowned out." I quickly raised my hands to stop that idea before it got going.
Heimdall, however, did not look convinced. "While strong, I fear you won't be able to reach the battle fast enough without the Bifrost. If you can't do that, then all else is pointless."
"Why don't you give us a full report of the situation first, Heimdall, then we can think about how to react?" I decided that it would be difficult to convince them for now, so I decided that more information would be for the best.
Heimdall inclined his head slightly. "Very well."
The golden guardian straightened, the faint light in his eyes deepening. "I cast my gaze across all of Midgard. I sought to find the Tesseract, but found nothing, though I did find people moving against their will — stealing, building; they are carrying out a plan, building something."
I nodded along with his words, which sounded like the plan hadn't changed too much. Thanos's agent clearly still intended to have the world invaded — for what reason I didn't know — but it could be a distraction, or merely because they wished to carry out the grand balancing.
"Earth has a large flying ship, one with other planes on it. Should that be attacked… I think the attack might be close, as taking out that would be a final key," I said as he finished his report.
Heimdall nodded and looked out the window, his sight seeing far beyond the scenery outside. "You are wise, Goddess of Midgard. Such an attack is happening as we speak."
His words caused me to stand from my seat. "Then we don't have long. Soon, the host of the mad titan will descend on Midgard."
(End of chapter)
Support me at patreon.com/unknownfate - for the opportunity to read up to 30 chapters ahead.
Or on boosty.to/unknownfate