Hello lovelies, this is my first Marvel fan fiction and inspired by the Infinity Gauntlet six-issue comic book limited series published by Marvel Comics from July to December in 1991.

It will cover whole movies or some events from:

Captain America - The First Avenger

Iron Man

Thor

The Avengers

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D

Thor 2

If all goes well with the first section regarding Captain America I might fill in the gap of time with a couple of X-Men stories, but only if you my readers, think the story is worth it.

Please let me know what you think.

xxx

Prologue

The first thing I remembered were those four words.

Liar.

Thief.

Traitor.

Murderer.

In my head I can hear those words repeated over and over again, repeated like a mantra that will never leave me. I can still feel the blood on my hands and hear the clanging of the dagger as it hits the golden floor beneath my feet.

Liar.

Thief.

Traitor.

Murderer.

My ears ring at the sound of those words, sending shivers down my spine that echo throughout my body. I never wanted to be like this. Used. Manipulated. Forced. In that moment my actions were not my own but there was no evidence to the contrary. If I ever returned, only death waited for me. No friends, no family, all would turn their back on me.

Every time I try to remember what had happened to me leading up the betrayal, everything starts to become fuzzy and I find myself overwhelmed with the feeling of drowning. I go to bed most nights and play it over and over again in my mind, trying to figure it out. I can only remember bits and piece of the days before, the images come and go in flashes through my mind. I remember holding it in my hand, the dagger and the gauntlet, I remember taking it from the vault and fleeing from the palace to someone who was waiting for me.

Then everything grows fuzzy again.

Liar.

Thief.

Traitor.

Murderer.

Those were the first words I heard when I woke up, lying in the middle of a grass field looking at the blue sky above me. There was a steady breeze blowing and a slight chill to the air. I rubbed my head, my hands were sticky with blood and tangled up in my hair. The moment I saw the blood I panicked and started searching myself for wounds but I was unable to find any.

If the blood was not mine than who's blood was it?

This is the same question I have asked myself every day since the day I woke up in this cursed place.

Liar.

Thief.

Traitor.

Murderer.

There is always that voice in the back of my head…whispering to me…when it comes to me, everything becomes fuzzy and days later I find myself someplace I do not know, covered in dirt and grime and sometimes blood. I trudge back home and the people I live in the building with complain about a ruckus that had come from my apartment days before. This is one of the reasons I never hold down a job or a place for very long.

I stared at myself in the mirror of my small two bedroom apartment and sighed at the image that stared back at me. At home I had been beautiful, considered one of the many beautiful warrior maidens to have ever walked the Halls of Asgard but here I was just a shadow of my former self. Pale skin, dark rings under my dull green eyes, my dark red hair used to flow freely around me like its own cloak but now it was always pulled back in a tight bun to hide whatever darkness was affecting me…I covered the image of my face with my hand and shook my head.

"It's not fair," I whispered. "I don't even remember why I'm here…"

When I first came here, I refused to stay in the one place for too long in case they came after me but after time I eventually settled down in one city-New York. New York was a beautiful city, a busy city, a large city…large enough to hide in until I had to move on again.

Reluctantly, I fixed the last button of my uniform up and moved my eyes away from the image that stared back at me so that I was able to finish getting ready for work. Today I was feeling incredibly uneasy and the voice in the back of my head was very active, whispering that something had been found…something that had been lost a very long time ago. I tried to shake the feeling off and ignore it as I left my apartment.

Despite the circumstances of my arrival here, I found that this planet certainly had its charms. Once such a charm was a small place that humans called a bakery where I could buy bread and some small desert items for lunch and dinner during the day. It was owned by a charming old couple who would occasionally throw in some extra puddings and continually introduce me to their son. I was an Asgardian, our life spans are different than a human's which meant that even though I was stuck here, there was no way I would be able to form any kind of intimate relationship with anyone. I had only been stuck here for a small number of years but the fact that I did not age would be noticeable to anyone after a period of time.

After stopping off at the bakery and a brief chat to the owners about their son I continued on. I had almost come to the grocery store where I worked when a small explosion rocked the street. The ground beneath us shook, knocking items off the shelves and people to the ground. When my employer helped me to my feet, I looked around, searching for the source of the explosion. I, like many others, knew that America, my adopted home country, was at war with Germany, a nation who wanted to destroy what they considered impure but I had not thought that the war was here already.

"Astrid, are you alright?" my employer inquired, brushing off the dust from my coat.

I nodded. "Yes, David, I am fine…is that the antique store? All-father I hope Mrs Walker is alright."

"I'll call the police," he answered. "You and Hank go over to see if Hilda is alright."

The store owner was referring to Hank Lawson, he had worked her longer than I had and was responsible for stocking shelves where I helped serve and work on the accounting books. When I first started I knew nothing about the job but David was impressed with my ability to learn quickly so he hired me and had his wife Laura teach me what I was missing. I was struggling to get the job done but Laura was just as patient with me as my mother had been.

I took my coat off and together with Hank, we ran across the road to the antique store. No sooner than Hank had pulled open the ruined door, the sound of gunfire rang out from the store. "Hank?" I called out, shaking my friend when he stopped moving. "Hank?"

Hank stumbled back a little and collapsed on the ground, blood soaking through the apron he was wearing. I stared at the fallen form of my friend and suddenly was pushed aside by a man in a grey checker suit who fired several shots back at me and the store. The fall to the ground didn't hurt but, they never do, it was more shock than it was painful. Moments later a woman came out of the antique store dressed in a full military outfit and brandishing a gun, I watched her stand in the middle of the road and aim at a car speeding towards her. She wasn't worried about getting hit as she fired off several rounds.

I could barely believe what was happening in front of my eyes. The city had always been peaceful but now the war was here.

Then that's when I met him.

I picked myself up and a second man pushed past me. I met his deep blue eyes for only a moment and I ceased up.

"Sorry," he grunted politely before he took off.

I leant up against the frame and looked down at my own dress which suddenly felt warm and wet. Hank hadn't been the only one to get shot. "Oh no…" I whispered, slipping down the wall. "Help…" the word slipped out of my mouth as the woman with the gun came over. She shouted out for help…I caught a name…it was Peggy…and that was the last thing that I heard.