Divided Chapter 80

Colin felt the hairs prickle at the back of his neck as Thor paused, reins in his hand waiting for the royal guard to reach him.
“Your Majesty! A battalion of Jotunn are on the move in this direction. They appeared at the longhouses. Longhouse one has been destroyed. Longhouse two still stands but it is not clear what they are doing with it. Our men stayed only long enough to gather intelligence before they left for the city. The encampment has been routed!”
Thor looked up at Colin who could only stare at him open mouthed.
      What about the agents? The technicians? Civilians? Was Chase alive? They had to be safe? The great Tony Stark? Had to be alive. It was inconceivable.
“I must go to my family!” Loki brought Agathon about.
“No, I need you here,” Thor took hold of Agathon's bridle, “I will send a contingent of guards to the manor. We must secure the city gates! Sound the bells, raise the call to arms! I want all able men and women to our walls. Children, our elders, bring them inside the city. Send a courier to ride the roads!”
“I cannot stay here while Eidra is alone with the children!” Loki cried, jumping to the ground, “The Jotunn are ruthless! They will lay ruin to the towns and their people just as they did before!”
Thor fixed him with a stare which passed as swiftly as it had arisen, “The guards will ride and be there before nightfall, I assure you but we need to focus on the coming horde, do you ken?”
Colin had slipped down from Blackberry's back and was now running out of the stable to the south courtyard. He raced up the steps to the parapet and shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked to the southwest. His stomach clenched as he spied a distant plume of smoke on the horizon.
“The longhouses?” came a voice beside him.
Colin glanced at Loki, “Aye, most likely. Fuck! Fuck!”
“Indeed,” Loki leaned out over the wall, “The Jotunns are barbaric. I hope they saw fit to spare some of your people. Pity is not in their nature.”
“For their sake, let's hope.” Colin watched the smoke shift direction with the wind.
“What a great loss it would be were my adversarial friend to come to harm,”
“Adversarial friend?”
Loki crossed his arms before him, “Why the great metal man, Tony Stark, of course.”
“Every time you meet up, yer at odds. I was of a mind you hated each other,” Colin backed away from the wall to stare at Loki.
“Quite the contrary. He has dealt fairly with my family though I am often loathe to admit it. He procures medicine for my son, watched over Brenna when she was on Midgard, he has warned me against turning my back on the Midgardians who command the portal project therefore the enemy of the enemy is my friend. A quote Brenna taught me while in school. It holds true here does it not?”
Colin looked down into the courtyard where guards were assembling, checking their weapons.
“So it does...”
They stood looking out over the city as horns began to sound, watched citizens stop their daily routine and hurry inside their cottages and shops only to emerge a short time later with swords tied at their waists, long bows slung over their shoulders.
“I should have ridden to the manor to collect Eidra and the children,” Loki muttered, turning from the sight to descend to the courtyard below, “I have no faith in those who are not invested in their mission.”
“How so?” Colin trotted down the steps behind him.
“The guards are loyal to a fault but they go to retrieve my family,” Loki glanced at him over his shoulder, “Would you die to protect a family not your own?”
They had reached the ground now and Colin surveyed the courtyard, spying Gunnar within the ranks, Silas at the front, barking orders.
“I don't know, to be honest. I can't say as I've ever been very brave,” Colin replied as they started for the palace doors.
“Then perhaps you have never loved.”



His hands stung, so cold they felt like they were on fire.
“Mister Stark! Jesus are you okay?”
Shivering, he was lifted back to his feet by Chase and Kenworth. He stuck his hands beneath his armpits, wincing at the needles as his skin reacted to the warmth of his jacket. He stared about at the remaining agents, the few techs who had been allowed to leave the encampment, most of them in plain shirts, a few, Chase included, lucky enough to have worn their suit jackets and for the hundredth time that day, he cursed himself for leaving the Mark XVII locked away in the sub levels below Stark Towers, for playing nice and not defying Coulson and Fury.
“I'm fine. I tripped, that's it.”
“Keep moving!” came a roar above his head as they stumbled forward along the road.
Further ahead, walking beside the leader of the battalion of insurgents, was a sight he still hadn't quite been able to comprehend. When Eris had stepped outside of the longhouse as the giants swarmed the encampment, Tony was quick to assume coincidence. It was easier than accepting failure but she had walked up to him and smiled.
“Mister Stark, the richest man in the world....well on Earth. Don't know about here. I am Eris Carter, the woman you misplaced.”
“Uh, I'm thinking you had a lot to do with it, I can't take all the credit.”
She had laughed at him then though she was quickly moved to the side as one of the giants approached, kneeling on the ground before him.
“Where is the Midgardian you call Simon Foster?”
“Who?” Tony had tapped his chin.
“Do not think to play me for a fool!” the giant had roared and Tony found himself staring up at the sky, holding his hand to his chest as Eris cried, “Don't kill him, fucking A! We won't find Simon if the only people who have any idea of his whereabouts are dead!”
Unsure as to what Eris had told this giant, whom he was informed was Menyir, ruler of Jotunheim, he continued to maintain his ignorance of Simon's location. Not a lie, really. He wasn't certain exactly where Simon was. If he'd known, he would have fetched the man himself. At last Eris seemed to convince Menyir to move along to the palace and leave longhouse two alone so they had rounded up the remaining staff who'd survived the initial attack and started their march to Asgard.
The city loomed large on the horizon, the sound of bells and horns rending the afternoon air when at last their party stopped and the warriors began to form ranks along the dormant royal fields and Chase moved beside Tony.
“What are we going to do? We can't just let them attack.”
Tony gestured about them at the remnants of the encampment, “Look around you, Agent. We're unarmed, outnumbered, outsized. The best we can hope for is that Thor is going to bring the thunder.”
Chase backed away from him, “You're Iron Man. You're the hero of the attack on New York. Are you telling me all we can do is watch?”
“That's exactly what I'm telling you!” Tony growled, “Under the provisions of this project, I was to leave all armaments at home in the toybox! I argued for months when I found out the agents were bringing their service revolvers but I was told I had to play nice! Why? Because I'm a rebel. A loose cannon. Call me what you will but don't call me a hero, not here, not now!”
With a roar, the Jotunns started for the city walls, the siege had begun.



Eidra had begun singing softly to Brynn, a vacant expression on her face as they rolled on toward the city. Beth clamped her hands to her ears, hiding her face in Gretten's chest. Every so often, she would hear Fen's quiet sniffle as he sat in the front of the wagon, guiding Willow and Lilac along the road. Beth peeked across the wagon bed at Helgi who sat with a vacant stare, her cheek pressed to the top of Eidra's head. Ingrid had hefted Astrid into her lap, managing to rock her to sleep while Cait and Edie had curled together about her legs. For the first time since arriving in Asgard, she felt truly terrified. Absently, she rubbed her thumb along the bottom of her right ring finger. The feel of her grandmother's ring always gave her a little comfort. All at once she sat up with a gasp.
“I left my grandmother's ring in the kitchen drawer,” she whispered in Gretten's ear.
“It will doubtless be safer there,” Gretten pulled her back beneath the crook of his arm, “Stay beneath the blankets and keep warm.”
Anger quickly replaced frustration. How could she have left the ring off her finger? Then again, perhaps it was providence she'd left it off. What if the monsters had tried to take it from her? She gave a faint smile. They'd have had to pry it from her cold dead finger. Frightened she may have been but she was no weak willed woman. She wouldn't surrender without taking a few blue boys with her.



Brenna's eyes flew open, expecting to see Willow's soft muzzle brushing against her forehead, instead she was met with a bushy tail twitching at a languid pace in front of her nose.
“Clancy!” she cried, reaching up and shoving the yellow tabby off her pillow.
The cat rolled onto the mattress, stood up into a long stretch and sauntered off the end of the bed, leaping to the floor.
“Furry bastard,” she grumbled as she sat up, rubbing her face. Snatches of the dream she'd woken from danced about in the corridors of her mind. Her horse, the bitter sting of snow beneath her hands, a distant horn which faded into the whoot-whoop of a cop car gliding along the street below.
Brenna stepped to the floor, shuddering as her feet touched the cold hardwood, and lifted her robe from the end of the bed, wrapping it around her shoulders.
An early morning stillness permeated the apartment, comforting Brenna as she walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Clancy leaped onto the counter to stare inside as if doing so would compel her to open the crisper drawer and take out the sliced cheese. Instead she slid out the bottle of orange juice and shut the door.
“No cheese for you, your highness,” she yawned as she lifted a cup from the hooks below the cupboards and poured herself a glass of juice. Beside her, Clancy pawed the refrigerator handle with a soft mewl.
“Get down,” she picked him up and dropped him to the floor, shaking her head as he bounded back up to stare at her.
“It is not I who shall suffer Sophie's wrath. Do as you like,” Brenna sat down at the small kitchen table and drew aside the curtains to stare out over the rooftops at the lights of the city. An uneasy feeling pervaded her thoughts though she shrugged it off as echoes from her dream. She was eager to return home. She missed her mother and father, her siblings. She even missed sweet, serious “I-am-a man-in-boy's-clothing” Fen, maybe most of all. He had always been her champion. She smiled to herself.
Clancy jumped up into her lap and put his paws on the windowsill, curious to know what was of more interest on the other side of the glass than fetching him a piece of cheese. She touched the Uruz at her chest. Tomorrow she would take her leave of Sophie and return to Asgard to meet Chase. Maybe she would stay the night in the encampment with him then to home to see the family. Perhaps she could convince her mother ride to the palace with her and see how Jane was faring. She pushed Clancy to the floor, set the empty cup in the sink, returned the juice bottle to the fridge and headed back to bed, feeling a sight better than she had when she'd awakened. She was ready to go home.




Simon rubbed his eyes, praying he was hallucinating as they leaned forward onto the outcropping of rock, staring at the scene in the distance.
“We've not seen the likes of that cold hearted sword fodder since before me Da was born!” Lelia hissed, “How in Odin did they get into Asgard?”
Simon clutched the strap of his backpack, “What are they?”
“Our brothers from Jotunheim,” Velos crouched down beside Simon, “They come from a land of perpetual winter. They have been ever eager to expand their influence about the nine realms.”
“Like the Romans,” Simon crawled higher onto the outcropping, watching the perimeter of the city in dismay, troops of guardsmen swarming the great blue giants who towered over them, knocking the guards away, slashing at them with immense swords. The parapets of the city walls lined with archers, more guards waiting to take their place in the melee. To the left of the city, near the main road into the gates, Simon could see movement among the trees where he supposed a base camp must be set up for the Jotunns. Where was the King? He expected Thor would have been in the thick of it all, swinging his hammer, clearing a path for his troops.
“This is a one sided battle,” Velos stood up, glancing back the way they'd come, “I should go back to Muspelheim for help.”
“It's not exactly next door. It'll take a few days to get there,” Lelia cried, “Yer mad.”
With a wink, Velos took Simon's hand and shook it, “In my present form yes but as I truly am, I should make the border in a day and a half at the very most. I will bring my warriors to the battle.”
“By then, the war may be lost,” Simon watched one of the giants fling a pair of guards high over the city walls.
“Or won, depending on whose side you take but I must try to help my friends. Stay hidden until relief arrives,” with a nod, Velos was off, his form growing with each step until he was swallowed up, a flash of red between the green of the forest.
“We can't stay here,” Simon patted his backpack, “I have to reach the palace with these two rune stones. I don't know where else to take them.”
“I ken, Simon but 'tis safer to wait till nightfall so we can move neath the cover of darkness,” Lelia put her hand on his shoulder, “I'll not let ye risk yer neck any longer and make no mistake, I will tie ye to a tree this time. Let's find a spot where we can see the battle without being seen.”
They searched for a few minutes along the rocky ridge till they found a crag, protected from the chill wind which had begun in earnest, and settled in beside one another, keeping close for warmth. Simon opened his pack and drew out the last of the venison pasty's Anna had added along with the cold roast beef and loaf of bread she'd insisted on packing for them before they left Martin's house. With a grunt, he broke the hard pasty apart, handing half to Lelia. He trained his attention to the pasty, holding his half up to his nose with a smile. Addle brained though she might have been, Anna was a fine cook.
“I hope your parents are okay.”
Lelia gazed out at the distant battle, “They've a shelter in the woods around the fields for the likes of this. Da built it when I was a wee lass. He dug it into the side of a hill and fortified it, I recall dragging long branches and pine boughs to him which he used to cover the whole lot. Over time, the vines grew, hiding it so well, no one could find it save us. I was charged with cleaning the shelter each moon, clearing out the mice and other vermin who thought they could take up housekeeping there but I would often spend time in the shelter, playing with me dolls. The family is more than likely there now. Sure and me Da is in among those blue terrors, fighting for the kingdom.”
She hung her head, “We should have headed for the house when we arrived in Asgard if only to tell me Ma I was alive.”
Simon slid his arm into hers, “I'm sure she knows you're okay. Mothers know when something happens to their babies even if they're a world away, trust me. Our job is to get these stones back to the palace, I'm sure of it now. Seeing what's going on, I'm even more certain.”
Lelia lay her head on his shoulder, “I wish we were back in Melos.”
He responded, giving her arm a squeeze, keeping to himself his fear that they might never see the little village in Alfheim again.




Eidra had stopped humming and now sat there in the back of the wagon, a vacant look upon her face which unnerved Fen even more so than had her endless lullaby. As they drew closer to the city, the sounds of battle grew louder. The cries of the wounded, the shouts, clash of metal, flashes of lightning throwing the horizon into sharp relief against the darkness of dusk. These were the sounds Fen covered his ears against now as he followed the Jotunns walking in the road ahead of him. The runners on the wagon had stuck once or twice along the way as waxing them had been the furthest thing from his mind when they started out. The Jotunn warriors had lifted the wagon out of trouble as if it were a toy and they had continued on, to where he knew not. The cottages, farms they passed seemed well deserted though upon looking back the way they'd come, he'd spied a candle rise into one of the lower windows of Council member Wellan's manse.
At last, as the last light of the day disappeared into the starlight, the Jotunns turned into a vast clearing, illuminated with blue stone pillars of light. Surrounding them, were stone huts made from the same material, creating an encampment of of blue glowing mounds, which might have been quite lovely, were they not the shelters of Asgard's dire enemies.
The sounds of battle could not be ignored now, as close as they were to the city and Fen heard Astrid start to cry, soon joined by Cait. Edie sat wide eyed beside Ingrid, spared the horrible clamor in her silent world.
Fen pulled the wagon to a halt before one of the larger shelters when Hobnir held up a hand, “Stay where you are. I will fetch the King.”
Sulyir, who had returned to his Jotunn form, leaned down to Fen, “Do what Menyir says, for the sake of your family. He is quick to punish dissent.”
Fen said nothing, only looked straight ahead, taking in the lay of the encampment to relay to his father when next they met.
“Get out of the way!” came a voice from a group of warriors to his right, “I'm pissed off just enough!
Fen glanced about the encampment, spying two men striding across the hard packed snow followed quickly along by two Jotunn warriors as the others in the group roared with laughter.
When he realized who the two men were, Fen fairly leaped from the wagon, stumbling, uprighting himself.
“Mister Stark! Chase!” Fen cried as Stark grabbed him by the arm to keep him from falling.
“Fen! What the hell is going on? Who's in the wagon?”
“Oh Mister Stark, they came to the house, broke the door, Hal is dead and....oh, I cannot say it!” Fen wailed, not caring how like a child he sounded.
“Where's Brenna?!” Chase hurried to the wagon where Beth had risen on her knees to stare at them over the sideboards.
“She's still in Midgard,” Beth called to him, “She's safe.”
“GET BACK TO THE GROUP!” growled one of the Jotunn's who had been chasing after them.
“Hey, fuck you pal,” Stark shot over his shoulder as he followed Fen to the back of the wagon, “Take it up with my secretary......ah shit!”
Eidra, upon hearing Stark's voice, looked up, rising unsteadily to her feet and speaking the first words she'd uttered the entire trip as Gretten leaped up beside her.
“Mister Stark! Please help me! Please! Brynn is sick!”
She took a couple steps forward, dropping to her knees in the hay, holding Brynn's covered body out to Stark who took the boy in his arms.
“He needs his medicine,” Eidra cried, “You must hurry!”
Fen took his mother by the elbow as she climbed down to the ground and Stark lay Brynn's body on the hay, removing the blanket from his face and pressing his fingers to the boy's neck.
“Jesus Christ,” Stark muttered as Fen tugged at his sleeve.
“She does not believe he is gone. Please help her, Mister Stark. I fear she is mad.”
Chase had taken Eidra's other arm now and was endeavoring to help her stay upright, his lip trembling as he stared down at his feet.
With a short nod, Stark turned to Eidra, willing his voice steady, “Eidra, Brynn is beyond help, do you understand?”
Eidra shook her head, slowly at first, then with more determination, “No, you can help him. You have always helped him!”
“I know,” Stark took her by the shoulders, “And I would do everything in my power to help him now were it possible but its too late.”
Eidra looked at Fen, then to Chase, at Helgi in the wagon bed, her face hidden behind her apron, her sobs muffled, Ingrid, holding Cait and Astrid tight, whispering to them and all strength left her legs.
“NOOOO! NOOOO! MY BABY!” she wailed as Stark gathered her into his arms, “MY SON, WHAT WILL I DO? WHAT SHALL I TELL LOKI? MY POOR BRAVE BOY!”
“I know,” Stark murmured, angrier than he'd been in a long time, “A brave boy, a good boy and we will take care of him like we should but you have to see to the rest of your brood. We're in a tight spot here and they're scared. Hell I'm a bit anxious myself but you have to be strong.”
“My boy,” she whispered, her face buried against his chest, “my boy....so sweet....so gentle...,”
Stark nodded at Fen, “Move him. Get her up in the wagon, cover her up with blankets before..”
“SILENCE!” boomed a voice above them, “Move away from the woman that I might see what weakling my brother has chosen for a wife!”
“If I move, she's going to fall over!” Stark spat, “You can see her well enough.”
All at once, he was being jerked backwards by the collar of his jacket as Eidra tumbled to the ground with a scream.
“I said MOVE!” Menyir roared, kneeling down before Eidra to tip her face upright.
“How dare you touch my mother!” Fen howled but before he could reach her, Menyir had shoved him backwards to sprawl in the freezing slush about the wagon.
“I do as I please, whelp! And it pleases me to afford a better look.....OWOOO!”
Menyir yanked his hand away from Eidra as she slashed at the air once more with her dagger, her eyes wild as she scuttled to Fen who had begun to pick himself up.
“Am I surrounded with FOOLS?” Menyir held his forefinger tightly, the blood dripping down to darken the snow behind the wagon, “Did no one think to remove their weapons from them?”
“Sire, it was Sulyir entered the hovel first. He should have seen to it first off,” Hobnir gestured to Sulyir who glared at him.
“He is no warrior. 'Twas you should have thought to do so!”
“Your Highness? What's happened?”
Fen, lifting his panic stricken mother to her feet, turned to see a beautiful woman step out of the large shelter.
“Eris,” Sulyir bent down, doing his best to shuffle her back into the shelter, “Go back inside. It is too cold for you out here.”
“Bullshit. I was raised in the north country. This is nothing. What the hell is going on?”
Fen was taken aback. The woman was Midgardian. Before he could address her however, Stark was back on his feet again.
“You want to know what's going on? Your friends are murderers! Sick, black hearted murderers! They pulled these people out of their home, killed this woman's son.....!”
At this admission, Eidra let out a screech, endeavoring to free herself from Fen's grasp for another slash at Menyir.
“....and are now waging war on a city full of innocent people! All because of you!”
“Sulyir,” Eris cried, “You promised me! You PROMISED no one would get hurt!”
“It...it...was not my doing,” Sulyir stammered, “Hobnir is the culprit!”
“ENOUGH!” Menyir bellowed, startling all into silence, “Hobnir, ready your warriors! We have what we need. We ride for the city.”