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Chapter 112 - Chapter 111 - The Hunter's Daughter

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BONUS CHAPTER 

The familiar chaos of the laboratory wrapped around Aidan like a comfortable cloak. After weeks of isolation in his research, the buzz of apprentices discussing their latest experiments felt oddly soothing. He stretched, feeling the tension finally ease from his shoulders.

"Aidan! Stop flirting and let's go!" Ivy's voice cut through the chatter at the palace exit, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

"I'm not—" Aidan started, then caught the amused glance from Valeria, the tall apprentice with fiery eyes he'd been discussing enchantment theory with. "One minute!" he called back, then turned to Valeria. "We'll continue tomorrow? I promised Ivy I'd visit her family today."

Valeria's lips curved into a knowing smile as she glanced between them. "Of course. Don't forget—you promised to visit us too. I'll make sure we have starglow fruit waiting."

"My favorite," Aidan grinned. "You won't regret it. My theories on crystalline enchantment matrices are revolutionary."

"I'm sure they are," she said dryly, giving Ivy a respectful nod before departing.

Aidan jogged over to where Ivy waited, her foot tapping impatiently against the marble floor. "Finally! Father went up the mountain at dawn to hunt elk. If we don't hurry, dinner will get cold."

"Your father's a hunter?" Aidan fell into step beside her as they left the palace grounds. "I assumed most Asgardians were warriors or craftsmen."

"Someone has to feed all those warriors," Ivy said with a slight edge to her voice. "The back mountains are full of exotic beasts. Only professional hunters like my father and Asgard's elite warriors dare venture deep into those ranges."

"Exotic beasts?" Aidan's eyes lit up with interest. "What kind of abilities do they have? I've been meaning to study Asgardian fauna for my bio-enhancement research—"

"Don't even think about it." Ivy stopped walking to fix him with a stern glare. "Those creatures are faster and stronger than most Asgardian warriors. Your magic won't help if a Tenaseti decides to make you its lunch."

"I have equipment—"

"Equipment won't stop a charging Fenris bear or a pack of shadow wolves. Promise me you won't go alone."

Aidan opened his mouth to argue, then caught the genuine worry in her eyes. "Fine. I promise."

As they walked through the residential districts, Aidan noticed the stares. Whispers followed in their wake, fingers pointing not-so-subtly in their direction. Some faces showed curiosity, others... something darker.

"They're staring," he murmured.

Ivy's jaw tightened. "You're from Midgard. They're curious."

The way she quickened her pace told him there was more to it, but he chose not to press. They crossed several crystalline bridges, each one singing a different note as their feet touched the surface, until they reached the eastern mountain range's foothills.

A cluster of tower-like buildings stood guard at the mountain's base, constructed from cyan stone that seemed to drink in the late afternoon light. Ivy led him to the central tower, its windows glowing warmly from within.

"Welcome to House Nigel," she said, pushing open the heavy door. "Come on, they're waiting."

The moment Aidan crossed the threshold, warmth enveloped him—not just from the fire crackling in the hearth, but something deeper. The home felt lived-in, loved, despite its modest furnishings. Candlelight danced across worn tapestries depicting hunting scenes, and the rich aroma of roasted meat filled the air.

"Aidan! Get in here before the food gets cold!" Ivy called from ahead.

A stocky man rose from his seat by the fire as they entered the living room. Warren Nigel had the solid build of someone who spent his days wrestling with nature, but his round cheeks and warm eyes spoke of a gentler soul. The hunting leathers he wore seemed at odds with his welcoming smile.

"So you're the famous Aidan Parker," Warren said, clasping Aidan's hand in a grip that could probably crush stone. "Ivy's mentioned you at least twice a day for the past month."

"Dad!" Ivy's face flushed crimson.

"What? It's true! 'Aidan solved the crystallization problem today.' 'Aidan's theories on energy conversion are fascinating.' 'Aidan hasn't been to class in two months because he's too busy being brilliant.'"

"It's only been two months of research," Aidan said, fighting back a grin as Ivy buried her face in her hands.

Warren laughed, a deep rumbling sound. "Come, sit. The elk is fresh—brought it down myself this morning."

As they settled around the table, Aidan noticed they were alone. No servants, no other family members. Just the three of them in the candlelit warmth.

"Ivy tells me you hunt the back mountains regularly," Aidan said, genuinely curious. "What kind of weapons do Asgardian hunters use?"

Warren's eyes lit up. "Would you like to see them? I craft them myself."

"I'd be honored."

As Warren left to fetch his weapons, Aidan turned to Ivy. Her usual confidence had dimmed, replaced by something vulnerable.

"You don't have to dance around it," he said gently. "If you need help with something, just ask. We're friends, aren't we?"

Ivy's hands twisted in her lap. "You noticed the stares earlier, didn't you?"

Aidan nodded.

"My mother was... is the Charm Witch." The words came out in a rush, as if saying them quickly would make them hurt less. "She used her power to control my father, made him... do things. Terrible things. Even though Odin pardoned him, people remember. No weaponsmith will sell to us. That's why I joined the magic program—I wanted to forge weapons for him myself. But I'm useless at artifact creation."

The pieces clicked into place. "The Charm Witch who can only affect men? The one Lady Sif captured?"

Ivy's head snapped up. "You know about her?"

"She caused some trouble on Midgard. S.H.I.E.L.D. mentioned her when I first arrived." Aidan studied his friend with new understanding. "That's why you excel at mental magic. You inherited her gifts."

"Her curse, you mean." Bitterness crept into Ivy's voice.

"Power is just power, Ivy. It's how you use it that matters."

Before she could respond, Warren returned carrying an arsenal. He laid out a crimson dagger, a shortened spear with a blood-red tip, and a grey longbow that seemed to absorb the candlelight.

"May I?" Aidan picked up the dagger first, testing its weight. The red stone—Darstone, if he wasn't mistaken—had been worked by hand, beautiful in its imperfection. "You shaped this yourself?"

"Every piece," Warren said proudly. "That dagger's saved my life four times. Good Asgardian craftsmanship, even if it's not enchanted."

Aidan set down the dagger and hefted the spear. Heavy, unbalanced, too short for its weight. A weapon born of necessity rather than design. The longbow, however...

He tried to draw it. The string didn't budge.

Heat crept up his neck as he pulled harder, muscles straining. Nothing.

To hell with subtlety.

Red liquid flowed from his hands, coating his arms before hardening into chitinous armor. His bio-enhancement suit quintupled his strength, and finally—finally—the bowstring sang as it drew back.

"Impressive," he said casually, letting the string relax as his bio-suit melted away. "Tenaseti sinew?"

Warren stared, mouth slightly open. "How did you—yes. Took me three weeks to track one large enough."

"The creatures you hunt must be formidable to require such draw weight."

"They are." Warren's expression grew serious. "Each season they grow bolder, coming closer to the settlements."

Aidan turned the dagger over in his hands, an idea forming. "I've been looking for a project to test some new enchantment theories. Would you permit me to study your weapons? Perhaps I could offer some... improvements?"

Warren glanced at his daughter, who rolled her eyes fondly.

"Subtle as a lightning strike," she muttered.

"What?" Aidan tried for innocence. "I'm genuinely interested in the practical applications of—"

"Just say yes, Dad. He won't stop until he's 'revolutionized Asgardian hunting' or something equally dramatic."

Warren laughed again, that warm rumbling sound that filled the room. "I would be honored, Aidan Parker. But first—eat! The elk grows cold, and I didn't wrestle it down a cliff just to serve tough meat."

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