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Note: Loki poses as Odin
Insomnia is a bitch. Insomnia when one's bed partner has been gone for weeks is even worse. Hilde, despite the Valkyrie in the back of her head, looks like some skeletal shadow of a woman, curled in in the corner of their messily unmade bed, smoking. She mostly gets the ashes in the ashtray. Mostly. The radio is going as the skinny woman stares at the ceiling and listens to the evening news, searching for any sort of report of a new war breaking out, some crazy assassination, something that might interest any of the facets trapped in her head. Mainly, she's bored. Her go-bag rests in the far corner of the room, medic's uniform sloppily tossed over the desk chair. She has to go to work at some point late night. But that point is not right now.
*
It was at this point in time that Amora appeared in a swirl of magic and golden light. The Asgardian goddess of desire looked like every imagined dream of what a woman should be. Curves that drew men to sin, and a wicked smile meant just for them, or the downfall of their kingdom. Honestly it was a toss up at any given moment on whether or not her smile meant a gift or death. Sometimes both!
Thus the Enchantress stood, arms crossed and in her green armor. "Brunnhilde. I have need of you. As does Asgard. Awaken and speak, Valkyrie and warrior. The princes are lost and Asgard trembles at an uncertain future." She commanded, hand out stretched toward the skeletal woman on the bed.
*
Of course, the interesting comparison here is that it's not that Brunnhilde ISN'T awake. She's just chilling out in a mortal body that looks like some skinny druggie and is kind of enjoying it. So, with a low groan, the slender woman rolls over from her back onto her stomach to look up at Amora, wincing just a bit, like the woman's beauty is too-shining to actually take in the dark, sketchy bedroom of their little tenement apartment. "Amora. How nice of you to knock. It's so good to see you. Do you want *tea* or something? I think there is whiskey around here. Don't let Anduvian know, but I don't keep ale in the apartment. Lost my taste for the stuff." She dead pans raspingly, her words still that weird mix of old fashioned terms in a Bronx accent. She takes another drag of her cigarette, not bothering to pull herself out of the bed yet.
*
Amora bent, a finger leveled evenly toward Brunnhilde. "The Thunderer is mortal and without memory. The Bifrost, once shattered has been restored. Loki is presumed dead once more, but one can never be certain. The Norns cry out in anger and rage unknown and the fate of the realms rests upon the unknown. Do you have any care for the dead? For what might yet transpire? Up! I command you rise and gain your strength for Asgard has need of it." A pause, and her haughty expression faded.
"For the uncertain Thunderer might yet die without your sword and I am mere a mage unable to protect him from all." She sighed, her expression pinched.
"He would fight for armor against wyrms without proper strength. Lady Sif lay slain most aptly, and I know naught who else to turn to for his safety."
*
A low groan escapes her throat and Hilde takes another long drag of her cigarette, sighing quietly, "Look, lady… Don't you *dare* bring the sacred dead up in my face. You know I have more care for the dead — Midgardian AND Asgardian — than anyone else on these planes. But I do excellent work here too. This realm has needed me as much as home and it has way less fuckin' politics." Hilde's rasping voice practically growls those words, a flicker of the *actual* danger she presents, the power that is hidden somewhere in her soul, behind them.
But she does slowly roll over and off the bed, standing up, carrying ashtray and cigarette across the room as she parades over towards the closet and actual clothes. She's wearing utterly nothing, at the moment, save an oversized shirt that is probably Barney's and not her own. She moves to grab some underwear, if she can find a clean pair. "…Fuck. Need to do laundry." She sniffs at another pair. Good enough. "…and just how do you plan to send me to him? Thor here in New York? I'm not quite the swordmaiden I once was…"
*
A huff of breath, impatient as Amora stood waiting for the woman to dress herself and follow her commands. Haughty Amora as always, but perhaps with a renewed sense of… what? Authority? Need? Duty? There was something decidedly different about the Enchantress.
"I am the one that cut your soul and body asunder. I am perfectly capable of sending you back as needed." She squared her jaw.
"The need is high, I must know what occurs in Asgard. Does the All-father sit on his throne on high? Is Thor still exiled? What is the lay of the land. Is this mortal infliction on purpose or accident? I needs must know thusly, and you are the only one that can travel to the realm Eternal without meriting exile nor question." She curled her hands into fists as she spoke, swallowing a curse under her breath.
"But I shall hold part of you here, as an anchor. A deal."
*
The skinny woman shimmies into some undies and then is peeling out of the shirt, tossing it on the bed as she goes to grab a real one. She has no need of a bra and simply isn't bothering right now. Then she's grabbing for a pair of jeans which also get the sniff test and pass. Mostly. She really needs to do laundry. Brows furrow as she watches the woman across from her a bit closer, "When did you become all high and mighty loyal… what… what are you getting out of this? Just information?" She narrows her gaze more, striding closer to Amora, almost accusing, searching the woman's features. "…You… You want back in Thor's bed. Since he has forgot all you've done…and now that Sif's soul may have passed on… you think you have a chance with him again. No wonder you're getting all fuckin' patriotic." Hilde huffs as she zips up her jeans. "What if I don't *want* to go back? I like my life here. I like ushering on the humans to their final reward."
*
Amora leaned back, arms crossed. The scent of such an act was thick on her, as always but it was most decidedly similar to that of the Thunderer. It would seem Hilde's guess wasn't far off the mark, if only off in the time. A scowl blossomed over her lips as she eyed the woman.
"I am loyal to my prince as always." She breathed, looking down her nose at the woman before her. Her voice only softening in volume, not in tone.
"And I care little of what you desire. The end of the realms may very well occur. In which, your Midgardian life shall end. If you're pleased with such an ending, then so be it."
*
"Loyal to his bed." Hilde mutters, supposedly beneath her tone, but really… It was loud enough for both of them to hear. She sighs and stretches out, finally fully dressed, her back popping in several areas. She moves over to grab the last drag of her cigarette, "…Alright, what in Hells makes you think that the realms may very well end because of what is going on?" She's awake and mostly sober enough to at least be listening now.
*
A sniff, and Amora glowered at Brunnhilde, but didn't argue the point further. It seemed she wasn't beyond accepting that particular barb now that it was actively a thing. Or at least as much of a thing as she could hope for..
"I have tried to see into the future, even the past to see what occurred and naught was there to see. The Norns are enraged, and Yggdrasil groans." That had her wincing, and legitimate concern colored her expression.
"Two conditions for the end of all things has come to pass. Asgard is without two princes. If the Odin-force is to blame then 'tis nothing.." A pause, "But if it is not the will of the All-father.." Her expression pinched.
"I sought out the Sorcerer Supreme, and he was unable.. or perhaps unwilling to share, if the man I found is indeed the Thunderer or tis a figment. The hammer.. there is naught of the eternal storm within its metal.. It is cold. Death-like. I can even pick it up.."
*
It's that last bit of news which makes Hilde blink. "…Shit." Well, this just got serious. "Probably some sort of imposter. Who knows. But… shit. Fine, fine. I… should call off work. Wait… I mean, you can send my soul back, but… what about the rest of me? I'm not all Brunnhilde. The woman I was before I retook my soul… or, understood the origins of my soul… She is still here." Hilde motions to her skinny, unthrilling self, so different than the powerful warrior she had been all of her life. But it's her body now. "…And she's got a life here. I mean, I do… there are duties." This is the first time she's looked truly pulled between the two sides of her psyche. And she has no clue how just-Hilde will survive alone. She stabs out her cigarette and then perches on the edge of the bed, grabbing at some socks. SHe's still preparing to go.
*
A nod, slow and curt followed as Amora watched Brunnhilde move about the rather dank and disgusting mortal quarters. "Quite." She offered in a clipped tone, a goblet appearing in her grip that steamed with exotic scents.
"Well, I was going to level the body you currently reside in as a means of collateral for your return but this works just as well." She twisted fingers in a spiral over the drink and whispered a few words. Green light flashing in her irises and in the goblets’ liquid as well.
"Drink this and you shall be teleported to your body. I have stated the incantations to allow your body free of my crystals in my home." A pause and she held back the drink, close to herself.
"If you wait too long, this body shall decay. I can and shall keep it hale and healthy until your return. With the Bifrost restored, you should have little trouble returning to Midgard. You shall have twelve hours. Dally in my castle and I will see an end to this body. Soul or not."
*
"…Damn, bitch. Cool your heels. Let me call in sick first…" Hilde states, the commentary ALLLLL Bronx and nothing like the proper Valkyrie she's supposed to be. She then flashes a smile and walks over to the rotary phone, picking it up and dialing a quick exchange. It takes a few moments, but she gets through with a rasping voice, "Yeah…I'm dead sick. Seriously. Puking everywhere. It's gross. Won't be in tonight. Sorry. Tell Ramierez I owe him. Yeah. Thanks." It seems this isn't going to be too much of a fight from her. She hangs up the phone and goes back to the woman.
There. For just a moment, it's in her eyes — Nerves. She hasn't been in the other body in what feels like ages. Hasn't been home in ages. All of this is a bit overwhelming and while Brunnhilde can handle it, there is something very mortal and very scared in Hilde. she finally nods, reaching out to grasp the glass. "…guess there ain't much use in delaying, is there. Anything I should tell anyone back home?"
*
Amora's stance eases somewhat at the oh so mortal retort. Fear had spiked in her gaze, while the other Asgardian turned her back. Fear that she might yet turn her down and leave her alone in this new world without others to aid her. None now remained that she had depended on, and the Enchantress was horribly adrift in this new world without Princes gold and black of hue.
Her grip on the goblet lessened and she passed it to the mortal-formed Asgardian.
"If you can keep yourself and your business quiet then the better. I.. I know not if Thor is considered exiled still. Loki was on the throne last, with the All-father in his sleep. I know not what has transpired since. Only.." Her gaze fluttered and her brows pinched.
"That things are not right. I know Loki tried to stir those in the realm against those that fought for Midgard.. so.. choose your words with care."
*
A slightly deeper, steadying breath in, and Hilde reaches forward for the goblet. For a moment, there is none of the sketchy, druggy Bronx girl in her eyes. Something pale silver flickers through her gaze as she takes Amora's hand, something of the woman that fought so hard to remain Amora's friend. "… We shall figure this out, my sister. Then you and I have… bad blood to discuss. But first, for Asgard." She squeeze's Amora's hand. There is still such good, strong heart beneath all that surface. Even as she fears for her mortal half, she does not hesitate to take this risk.
Then Hilde takes the goblet and drinks. Deeply. No hesitation, no tasting. She just chugs it like a frat brother pledging his freshman year. Ice eyes blink quietly, waiting for whatever it will do to kick in.
*
Amora was passing the goblet off with an ease that belied her urgency and fear in the matter at hand. Yet as the Valkyrie's hand squeezed her own, she looked troubled, if only faintly. A look that had only crossed her expression on the rarest of occasions in the past in which they had known each other. The fact that Hilde addressed her so only brought those memories to the forefront of her mind.
"Aye. For Asgard." She whispered, and as Hilde drunk deep of the potion Amora drew back, her hands knitting into a spiral of complex knots as power bloomed from her and echoed deep within the sleeping, skeletal body.
"Return to the form from hence you sprung! To the Realm Eternal! Ride to golden Asgard upon the wings of the horses dear and old. To your body which sleeps yet in its crystal home." She whispered the last part, green eyes flecked with power.
"And return in haste." She added.
Hilde's spirit would be ripped from the mortal prison, flung over the secret passages that bound Asgard to the other realms. A torrent of colors, or noise and chaos and Hilde would awaken a top a crystal bower. Whole.
*
At first, Hilde's just going to sleep. That's a lot of magic and a lot of her soul/spirit leaving this body. The skeletal frame flops back on the bed, boneless and childlike, not even bothering to cover up with blankets or change back out of her clothes. Dammit, she just got dressed! But then, ever so strangely, the girl in Hilde's body blinks awake. Just Hilde. None of that secret power behind her, none of the weird dreams, none of the sight. She stares around the room, jerking back across the bed and gaping at Amora, wide-eyed confused, "Who the h-hell… are you?" The woman stammers out. If she looked skinny and scared before, she looks like some beggar child now. And Amora has a very panicked mortal on her hands.
Meanwhile, back in Asgard, for the first time in decades, The Valkyrie begins to stir. A low groan, an instinctive move of her fingertips for her sword. She rolls over on the crystal bower and stares upwards, breathing in the sweet air of home. Home.
*
Asgard. The glorious golden jewel of the Nine. It appears whole, in its brilliance, glittering from the swooping balconies, dripping with flowers and vines, to the broad lakes pouring their waters over the edge of the world and into the cradle that is Yggdrasil, the world tree. However, there IS activity, bustling, hurrying, here and there to the sacred fountains and rivers. Immediately upon any sort of arrival to here, one can feel the presence of the Allfather.
*
Looking down to herself, Brunnhilde brushes fingertips across the old, familiar tunic she had been wearing. It was like all of her was paused in time. But she could also breathe easier here. There was such comfortable, free power to her body. The first Valkyrie. The one all Valkyries were named for. Obedian to the Allfather, often mentor and fighting trainer to his sons, she forgot what it was to be so empowered and strong. She takes in another deep breath and then swings mostly bare legs down off the power, righting her sword at her side and beginning to quickly walk on. Amora cautioned quite and care. Brunnhilde rarely took those things. She was a woman of confidence and power. So, she begins to search, not bothering to hide her frame or identity.
*
The room was clearly underground, stone work ringed with magic that breathed in light and air and warmth in an impossible fashion. Golden veins ringed through marble and other rare stones made up the floor. Books were stacked to the ceiling in handsomely carved shelves, scrolls and stone slabs dotted the area as well. Thick trunks sealed with locks great and small.
Magic was everywhere and it seemed that the crystal coffin Brunnhilde had been kept whole and hale in had been a centerpiece in a basement of arcane treasures.
Rich tapestries covered the walls, and where ever the woman walked, witch-lights sprung to life in various hues to light her way. Several tables were filled with half finished projects, vials and cauldrons and various implements. Cages of creatures, monstrous or fay in beauty hung from the ceiling on one wall. Despite months, nearly a year of banishment, all seemed magically perfect. As if the Enchantress herself had only stepped out for a minute and might yet return at any moment.
Along one far wall was a doorway that led deeper into the Enchantress' magical trove. The other, led to a curtained doorway that led to a path of twisting stairs that went up and up in a spiral pattern to the upper floors.
*
Up and out. That is the plan. Hilde cannot get information hiding in a basement or nosig through the castle when Amora has not been home herself for years. As long as she's feeling no impending death off the cages, she ignores them and keeps moving. Sandaled feet take her quickly up stairs, eager to get out into the truly open air and feel the weather of Asgard on her frame. Also, the energy. To see what is going on in the streets.
*
There is something definitely going on in the streets. It's not exactly full blown panic mode, but the realm is busy. Turrets aren't manned, so it's not an attack externally that the place is in an uproar about, but something far closer to home. Odin would know what's up.
*
The All-Father. Odin. It had been decades, but Valkyrie worked at his side for centuries longer than that. Whereas others may cower or fear to bother him, she does not. She simply slips into the crowd, moving quickly down streets, past busy people, keeping her ice blue eyes aloft and chin high with pride. If she's recognized? All the better, information will be easier to gain. If not, she follows that vague feel of power. The draw to where she should be, where she should return serving.
*
There are glimpses that she's recognized, for sure. But the guards have duties and are either at their posts, or headed swiftly to somewhere. Odin is in the alcove to the left of the throne room, a war room, though on the projection table he has an image of the world tree, instead of the topography of the realm. When Valkyrie arrives, the graying man simply addresses her exactly as if she was expected to the table. "By my beard, we must protect this realm from them, and the bifrost. The /Norns/ are filled with a fury! Yggdrasil groans like she expects Ragnarok!" All in his gritty and dramatic voice.
*
The gaze in her pale eyes is wry, especially as he goes all gritty and dramatic. She's trying not to look as homesick as she's felt, but it's all coming in waves. Still, the Valkyrie has no time for homesickness. She comes up to just before Odin and sinks in a deep, respectful kneel. He was still her commander, her liege, even if she has served centuries, she knows to show proper respect. "Allfather. I have been… caught up. Forgive my neglect. And… which realm are we protecting?" She will not stand until she's given leave, but her eyes curiously study the projection he's showing.
*
Odin makes a motion for her to rise and then catches her up after staring off into the distance, like its an awful lot of trouble that she isn't omniscient. "My son, Thor, is serving a greater purpose, and I do not wish his trial disturbed. My other son, /Loki/, caused enough trouble on his way to death to deal with. With his spell to correct the many wrongs here, and the fate of Thor, he has unbalanced the world tree, and set the Norns on a violent course. We do not know yet what it is they seek. But their power is great, and could do harm, unchecked. I can feel it swarming. They mean to leave this realm, but not before scouring over it like desperate wolves."
*
The tanned woman unfolds from kneeling, as elegant and powerful as ever. She steps closer to the projection, looking across the lacking balance, the information she can see about the norns. Hilde frowns deeper, her arms crossing over her chest. The annoyance he feels at her lacking omniscience doesn't seem to phase her in the least. She's used to the pride he contains. She just needs to catch up as quickly as possible. "…and what of Loki's soul? Is he truly dead? Who… ushered him to his reward? I know it was not me. Could we… reclaim him? Restore some balance with his presence? Fighting the Norns will come when the time is right… Restoring balance, that is important."
*
"The Enchantress may be our hope for that. What that reckless coward has done has affected all those in Asgard at the time. Heimdal cannot see him. I do not see him in Valhalla nor Hel. We will handle things here in Asgard. You. Find the Enchantress. Protect my son. Stop the Norns should they come to Midgard. And if you find out what the Norns want in the meantime, so be it. We are better off without Loki right now." And that's how Odin wins Dad of the Year, by thinking the Asgardian Princes are just…better off out of his beard-hair right now.
*
A little scoff of a breath already escapes her lips. "I've found the Enchantress. Done. In fact, she's had me locked up for about forty Midgardian years, down in that basement of hers…" Maybe there is even a bit of Bronx left of her voice here, but not near so much as there was back in New York. Mostly, this is only, purely Brunnhilde, full in her own glory. "But…I know where she is on Midgard. I will be returning there in a few hours, no doubt. I will do what I can to protect your son, but finding Loki may be a piece to this as well, All-father. With all due respect. Now, what have you for me to tell the Enchantress?"
*
Odin makes a loud, guttural sound that seems to translate into 'shut up', which is rude, but he's the Allfather. "She should find out what spell Loki cast. I have enough to deal with /here/. There are tremors throughout the realms! Mystical terrors being unshackled! See you to your tasks, Valkyrie." And then he totally starts talking to someone else in the war room.
*
"Yes, my liege." Brunnhilde was never QUITE, perfectly obedient and she cannot keep just a touch of sarcasm out of her voice as he dismisses her like that. No happiness at her return, no more questions about what happened. She's also not all that surprised, but with a deep sigh, she turns back on the ball of her foot and moves out of the room, studying the castle quietly, considering if there are any others about that may have more detailed information. She had a few hours to eavesdrop, if nothing else.