Response to reviews:

Wolftattoo(Guest): Agreed. Thanks for reviewing! I believe that this is your first time reviewing here.

Lupinica Friggasdoiter: Thank you for sharing your troubles through this review. I am truly honored to meet the Princess of Vanaheim as I am only a mortal. I hope to hear from you again soon, and help in any way I can with your troubles.

PhoenixofBeautyandPower: Thanks for taking your precious time to review! I will try to update soon, but there's school activities which I'm pretty active in, so I may not be able to do that often. I'm glad you don't hate Edwenlas. I don't really like OCs who star in stories, and creating her is a big leap for me.

Elaine Weasley: Yeah, I really felt like I needed to deal with these stupid prejudices in this story. Loki's whole problem came from those. Midgard's invasion would never happen, and they would have a happy ending before the story even started. Thanks for reviewing! I'll try to quicken my updates!

Undead Octopus: The author is not responsible for any deaths caused by 'feels' in this story. XD

Salty Ice Crystals

War

Chapter 6: Crumbling Teachings

Note: The royal family of Alfheim have longer lifespans, because Idunn gives them a golden apple the moment they are born, as a symbol that there is peace between this realm and Asgard. The lives of the other elves are relatively shorter. This is in no way based off the movies or the Marvel comics, just the author's own speculation and for the purposes of this story.

Yashnim surveyed the room smiling. Years, decades, near a century of waiting, playing the good old donkey, and finally his chance at chaos has come.

The servants complain behind his back, true. He knew of it.

The inhabitants of Alfheim stir, and are suspicious.

But Yashnim is old, and surely it wouldn't do any harm for an old man to have his ways, no matter how sadistic, another brief flicker of light before it goes out?

Yashnim had been brought up with the old ways, and he believes that the elder generation always rules supreme, no matter what. He certainly didn't like the idea of answering to a bunch of teens who never aged. Well, at least they wouldn't age during his lifetime.

It's not fair. He'd always thought. Why am I the one doing all the hard work and yet they are the ones getting eternal life?!

Yashnim had always been an ambitious elf. The bitterness, resentment and hate built, and built, and built.

Until one day when the word of Thanos' attack arrived.

Good. He'd thought. No one would notice a few causalities during a war. Not even within the royal family.

The King would die of magical overexertion and the head injury in a few hours. Allegedly. Yashnim planned to take care of him himself. The Queen's departure complicated matters for him, but he doubted that she would survive the war in Asgard. Besides, since the King had already openly declared his viewpoint of Asgard and forbidden any aid to them, the Queen's actions would be considered treason.

That little princess's escape was unexpected, but Yashnim was confident that no one would elect their King's murderer as Queen of the Realm. Besides, from what he saw, Princess Edwenlas was ill-equipped for a leader.

He had a few friends among the Council, and therefore his rise to power as the monarch of Alfheim. No one dared to oppose him, and since Alfheim already had other things on their mind, Yashnim's coronation went smoother than expected.

But given that what he expected was total chaos and an uprising, he wasn't surprised when a couple of protestors had to be ushered out of the palace.

The palace that was now all his.

Yashnim let a manic grin spread over his face, knowing that no one was looking. Time to enjoy the few remaining years of his elven life.

"Hurry! Just burn the house to the ground-take only the most valuable information or device." Fury lectured unnecessarily. The two spies were already moving, one grabbing a precious laptop and pouring petrol on everything else while the other scrubbed furiously at his arm wound before making a crude bandage.

Fury wasn't idle either. His other hand and eyes were busy deleting every single piece of data from the other computers, sending a virus created by Tony Stark himself. That should do the job just in case some computers manage to survive the fire despite all the odds.

"Okay done. Tasha, get Grumpy-oops." Clint looked embarrassed as he remembered that Fury was on the spot, as well are his ears. "Well, get the director out. I'm going to put some ammo in there, just to make sure it goes off with a bang. Since they already know our location I doubt that they would even bother to investigate further the cause, unless they can somehow tell from the brand of gunpowder that I'm using where we're headed next."

"Quit the rambling and move it!" Fury barked at him as Natasha took him and the precious laptop out the door and into the forest, where the car was still waiting faithfully. She changed the license plates though, just in case, and slapped a few bumper stickers onto it.

Fury was in the passenger seat, hiding the laptop under a few used tissues. It was gross, but then again if the Council's men caught up with them…he would rather the laptop's information was kept secret. After all, Pepper Potts had sent them an email detailing a hideout in Malibu Tony used along with all the passcodes.

Natasha climbed in behind the wheel. She didn't waste any time, already firing up the machine. Clint'd better be fast.

Fury didn't spot anyone yet, but he was sure that the Council would only have sent the very best after them, given that they were hunting two top spies and the boss of them all. They will have be to really stealthy.

In the distance, flames roared to life with a loud bang.

"Go, Clint." Natasha muttered, propelling the car forwards at a near impossible speed.

Then they saw the helicopter.

Circling over the little town, the helicopter went lower and lower, until it barely brushed past the rooftops of the houses. The residents of the town came out to watch in curiosity, since this wasn't a helicopter's normal route, and this was the first helicopter to ever come so low.

Then more of the metal birds appeared, circling the area. One even went as far as to spray poison gas into the forest to drive them out.

Natasha slowed the car a little so that it wouldn't be noticeable, and cruised the streets, waiting for Clint to show up.

The agents on the ground were gaining on them. Fast. Fury dimly wondered if the Council had made a new superpowered species of agents. These weren't moving at normal speed. If Natasha was going any slower, Fury was sure that they would already have overtaken them. He hoped that Clint was still safe.

Hope. Ah, now only he'd realized that this word was still in his vocabulary. Hope was too flimsy to rely on. And so were prayers, in his own opinion. So far God hadn't sent flames down from heaven to burn their enemies.

But now Fury couldn't help praying that they could get out of this situation alive.

Then they spotted Clint, limping towards them, one leg twisted so badly that it was amazing that he could even be upright. Natasha braked the car abruptly, firing off a few rounds into the crowd of agents on Clint's trail before ramming the car straight into them after Clint was safely onboard.

Surprise, surprise. They were unscathed by the car slamming into them, despite the onlookers' screams of horror. One even managed to get himself together just in time to shoot at the fleeing vehicle, the bullets piercing the windshield and whistling past Natasha's head. Thank heavens that he was still a little disorientated, and therefore didn't hit anything vital. He managed to irritate Fury a lot though, by letting a bullet graze his head and cutting the strap of his eyepatch. Dang. Now he would have to get a new one or arouse suspicion with his deformed eye.

Clint whimpered a little as Fury jostled his leg accidentally. It was covered in mud and was burned slightly, along with the rest of his body, and the bone was definitely broken. The skin was peeling off in some places, and the leg was also bruised quite badly.

Natasha cast a concerned look behind her, so fast that Fury barely missed it before she faced the front again. Then she spoke in a cool, calm voice. "First aid kit under driver's seat. Suggested treatment for now is water. Check for any places where the bone may be protruding through the skin. If none, apply treatment. Set the bone back in place and wrap it up tight. Materials for a splint included in first aid kit."

"No need to lecture me on procedures, Agent Romanoff." Fury said in a gruff voice, reaching for the first aid kit.

"Just in case you're rusty." Was it just him, or was Natasha actually teasing him?

Fury avoided the statement. "Let's get to Stark's Malibu house and trash it up a bit. I'm sure he won't mind."

A smile ghosted past Natasha's face as she turned the steering wheel abruptly in direction of the docks. "How does being a stowaway sound?"

Edwenlas could sense Freya's magical signature from a long way. Slipping into the palace, she caught a servant and told her to deliver a message to the King and Queen that the Princess of Alfheim has arrived, and then glided through the hallways in Freya's general direction. Her magical pulse vibrated strongly, not anything intricate but just pure force. Edwenlas winced as she made her way into the healing wing. If she was using her magic in the form of pure force in the healing wings, she'd better be using it discreetly.

"Ah, Edwenlas." She heard Freya's voice saying just outside Loki's door. Conjuring up a violin with a small part of 'Over the Rainbow', she entered the room to a stunned Thor, a blond guy she had never seen before, and yet sensed no magic thrumming around him. Either he got really skilled at hiding it, like Loki could, or he was simply…a mortal. There was also another man, a brunette, obviously a mortal. An ADHD one at that. He kept fidgeting around. She almost missed the small, mousey man huddled in a corner with the other two probable mortals.

More importantly, where there should be a bed, there was nothing, except a few smatterings of dust.

"Where's Loki?" She demanded. Then she remembered that she had wanted to yell at Freya, so she did. "Are you crazy? You left Alfheim! Now Freyr's lying in bed because of a head wound, and the head servant is ruling the realm! What are you going to do about this?! You disobeyed direct orders from the King!"

"I get it, I get it." Freya held up her hands, vanishing Edwenlas' violin in the same process. "Wait, Freyr's in bed?!"

"Hey!" Edwenlas whipped the violin out again with a rushed fast-forward phrase of 'Let it go'.

The blonde's eyes whipped between the two of them so fast that Edwenlas was surprised that his eyes didn't pop out. The brunette just sat smack dab in the middle of the room, grinning at the display of magic.

Freya and the hot blonde spoke together at once.

"Tell me about Freyr!"

"Excuse me, would anyone mind telling me who is this?"

Thor also spoke from his awkward position. Well, rather, boomed. "EDWENLAS! MY FRIEND, IT IS GOOD INDEED TO SEE YOU! HAS ALFHEIM DECIDED TO HELP?"

And of course, the brunette felt the need to add a few words. "Hello, hottie! Mind to join me for a night of drinking?"

"I'm Edwenlas." Edwenlas decided to answer the most polite one. "Edwenlas Njorddottir. Princess of Alfheim. I'm pleased to meet you. Are you a Midgardian?"

The blonde's face screwed up in a look of intense concentration, obviously confused, and it made him look cute. "Mid. Gard. Dian." He sounded the word out slowly, and Edwenlas tried not to laugh at the adorable way he said it. "Uh, if that means Earth, yeah. My name is Steve. Steve Rogers. Um, Captain America. Pleased to meet you too?"

They shook hands, and Edwenlas turned her attention to the other three people. Thor was already holding Mjolnir, face creased in irritation. Freya wasn't any better, practically bouncing on her feet in anxiousness. She ignored the third.

"I don't represent Alfheim." Edwenlas said quickly. "But yes, I come to help. And drag Freya back. Plus report to her on Freyr. WHICH I'M TOTALLY DOING NOW!" She yelped as Freya tried to stamp on her foot.

"You'd better." Freya growled. "I have the right to know what has happened to my liege, and I can always drag you to Midgard and sue you."

Edwenlas raised her hands, surrendering. "Fine, fine. No more paperwork."

"And the mighty princess of Alfheim surrenders to paperwork." The brunette grinned smugly. "I told you paperwork's a bore, Capsicle." He elbowed Steve.

Edwenlas frowned. Capsicle? A strange name for someone as mighty as him. Well, she's heard tales from Thor.

"He slipped down the stairs." Edwenlas addressed Freya. "And cracked his head against the super shiny banister. Apparently the head servant had it polished for the occasion. Servant gossip." She added quickly, seeing Freya's skeptical look.

"That source of information is good, but it cannot be entirely relied upon." Steve piped up. "You know how news gets distorted, passed from mouth to mouth like that."

"But there'll always be a grain of truth." The quiet man countered. Edwenlas jumped. She'd about forgotten about his presence.

Freya coughed loudly. "So…about Freyr?"

"Freyr. Right. Freya, you'd better hurry back to Alfheim right now and assume control of the throne. I don't even want to imagine how much chaos Alfheim would be thrown into. I think you can manage it even with the shield. I'll stay here in your place and help." Edwenlas offered. "You are the Queen of Alfheim, and you have more authority than I'll ever have."

"It is a nice thing to hear you admit that." Freya frowned. "But…the realms need us."

Edwenlas sighed, resisting the urge to stamp her feet. She didn't want to embarrass Alfheim in front of the Midgardians. "They have me and will have to do. Go."

Freya hesitated, torn between her need to help the poor Asgardians and her beloved realm.

"Ma'am." Steve spoke hesitantly. "If I may offer my humble opinion, you should return to Alfheim. What if this head servant, whoever he is, decides to lead the people of Alfheim to Thanos' side? That will only make our plight worse. Therefore, I beg of you to return to your country and take up your duties as Queen. That will only be seemly."

Freya softened. Bruce added, "Besides, it will boost your people's morale. I can't imagine how terrified they must feel, with an injured King, a runaway Queen and a missing Princess."

"More like a fugitive Princess." Edwenlas corrected. "But you make sense."

"Very well." Freya decided. "I will return."

Tony couldn't resist chipping in. "Remember to bring souvenirs!"

Freya looked strangely at him. "Pray tell, do I bring you a cursed stone?"

Steve sighed. "Tony, shut up."