A Lullaby For Gods Chapter 49

This took a while because I had to do so much research again, but hopefully, everything's at least decent.

XLIX. Hard Cut

"There's new people here."

A sigh, soft and weary. "I know."

"Are they alright?"

"Some of them are. A few are injured. A few have a...condition."

"Oh." Pause. "What kind?"

"A terrible one."

"How terrible?"

"Very."

No luck with that avenue, then. Maybe another. "Do you know them?"

"The new people?"

"Yeah."

"I know them the way one knows people they read about in newspapers." A laugh. "I would say like one knows people in books but people connect with people in books. They're as tangible as everyone else."

"Do you know them the way you know me?"

A smile. "I think we at least have conversations to look back on, my dear."

"Do you know me the way people know people in books?"

"If you want to see it that way."

"I think I can."  

Someone is passing by. Silence. Curl up. Do not alert them that a conversation is going on.  

They're gone.

"Why are they here? The new people?"

"Something happened. Something unprecedented."

"You didn't plan it?"

"We planned for it, certainly. But not thoroughly enough."

That happens.  

"Can you tell me what happened?"

No answer.

"Can you?"

"Perhaps." A lengthy pause this time. "But you know why we try to be as hands-off as possible. We nudge. We do not make the choices. Less of a mess that way, dear."

"I saw Eridan."

"When he was brought here?"

"I think they thought I was asleep. I just woke up, and I saw he was being taken somewhere down the hall. He looks...different."

"Time does things to people," the woman says, smiling softly. It's kind, welcoming. Hopeful. "So does growing up."

"You said you would never lie to me," Feferi Peixes says, lifting her head up slightly from where she's mumbling into her knees, trying not to seem to obvious that she's talking to someone no one else can see. "I want to know what happened."

The woman turns away for a moment, fidgeting with her bracelet that glints against the harsh light of the fluorescent above them both.  

"You'd have to be more specific as to what exactly it is that happened that you want to know."

She thinks for a moment. Then, "Everything."

The woman smiles again. This time it looks sad.

"Once upon a time," she starts, "We made a mistake."

-

"There must be a mistake," the little human girl says, hands on her hips and a stern look on her face that tells Vriska she's grown up too fast for someone that pint-sized.  "It's been days and we haven't heard anything from the Safehouse."

"Maybe they're busy," another human says, taller, voice deeper, and a lot more tired than the tiny human. "I saw the news about them being in a hospital and being attacked."

"All of them?" someone pipes up from the throng of children all sat around the little girl and the other humans. There's a gasp.

"No, not all of them," the taller human says, before the gasping can get out of hand. "I think someone was in the hospital, and they were all just there because they wanted to be there for their friend. Only saw a glimpse of it in the soup kitchen TV."

"Oh," someone else says.

"They still could have seen the message," the little human says. "Maybe Mr. Winters."

"Maybe Mr. Winters was taking care of the sick friend," another tiny voice says from the front.  

"There's still a lot of other people in the Safehouse." There's another taller human sitting by the little girl, but it's not the first taller human. This one has similar features to the little girl, although to Vriska, most humans look alike, so she might be wrong. She probably isn't, though. "It's not hard to designate."

"If they haven't gotten the message, then Mai's right, something's wrong," another girl says, her arms crossed and her face set in a frown.  She's also tall. Everyone under this bridge is just either the size of a tiny boulder, or tall. It's not like Vriska needs to be able to find the distinction between all of them. "When have we last heard from the radio system?"

"God, it's been a while," the second taller human says. She's going to call him Lookalike.  

"Something's definitely off, then," the small girl says, and then turns to where an equally tiny figure with a sash around his chest is stacking cans by one of the dumpster's that's on fire to keep everyone warm. "What do you think, Mr. Mayo Man?"

It's like a hive, the way all the children turn to the 'Mayo Man', heads moving in unison like it's all choreographed. The Mayo Man only looks up, looks at the can in his hand, and stacks it on top of the highest can on the tower he's building.

All the kids turn their attention back to the front, like the Mayo Man's wisdom has been imparted and it's been enough.

Of course they'd listen to The Mayor than they would to her.

"You can't go out there!" they'd told her, when she'd tried to get out from under the bridge the day after they'd carried her here, dragging Terezi with her (or trying to, not that she was going to admit it). "They might arrest you."

And she'd raised an eyebrow and tutted, because for one, this wasn't real, this was a dream bubble. Obviously, it was a dream bubble. There were too many humans here, and this place didn't look like Alternia. Whatever arrest was going to be made, she might as well have fun, before she and everyone else get spat back out the other side of this thing.

Terezi had pulled her arm away from her grasp, giving her a dry, "Really?", to which she'd asked, "Are you really going to play along with them?"

She hadn't gotten an answer.

Then she went out from under the bridge, or tried, nearly got run over by a loud hunk of metal that had really bright lights slapped on it, and was tackled out of the way by several of the tiny-boulder-sized humans. Like a complete moron.

Everyone's shot down every suggestion she's had about getting the fuck out of dodge since. The worst part is, Terezi's letting them.

Okay, maybe that's not the worst part. Maybe that title should go to the fact that, after she and her arrogance had nearly gotten flattened by the side of what the humans called a highway, she tried to figure out what sort of dreambubble this was, which led to her trying to backtrack on what had happened when they were in the meteor, which only conjured up the memory of her sitting, waiting, by Gamzee's fridge, and not much else.

Nothing to worry about, because there's nothing there.  

She'd asked Terezi. She remembers jack shit too.

"Something's wrong," Mai declares. Vriska draws away from simmering at the thought of nearly being crushed and drawing the stupid card. It's been days, but the reminder is there every time she hears another one of those 'cars' roaring overhead, and every time someone has to explain to her how things work here, and when they tell her, "No, you can't go out there, it's dangerous," and every time Terezi is sensible and agrees, saying they should learn more about the situation before they approach it.

"Yeah, well, what can we do about it?" someone asks. "We're just children. What if it's - " He hesitates. Vriska leans forward, curious. "What if it's S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

She can practically hear the capitalization from the conspiratorial, near-terrified whisper.

Mai doesn't answer right away. "Then this is bad."

"If it's S.H.I.E.L.D., then we've lost the only place we can go to, to escape S.H.I.E.L.D."

She files that bit away for future use.

"Maybe there's someone left in the house," Lookalike says. "There has to be someone who wasn't taken by S.H.I.E.L.D. - if it's S.H.I.E.L.D."

"I hope it's not," the other kid says.

"We all do," the tall girl says. "New York's in shit if we just lost the Safehouse."

"We really should have checked on them," Mai says. She crosses her tiny arms. "Someone needs to check on the Safehouse. Maybe one or two of us, we can't go there all at once if something's wrong."

Opportunity. She sits up a little straighter, then feels a tug at the back of her shirt. Terezi doesn't even sit up from where she's lying down, instead just saying, "Don't even think about it, you know nothing about this place."

Vriska bites down a huff.

"I can go," the tall girl says.  

Another tiny child stands at that. He ambles over to the tall girl and moves his hands.  

"It's okay," the tall girl says, in response to whatever the little boy has expressed. "I'm less a kid and more a teenager, Al."

"What if something is wrong?" Lookalike asks.  

"I'll deal with it."

The boy looks like he's sucking on a lemon, displeased. The expression makes Vriska chuckle.  

"What are you laughing at?" Terezi asks, still not getting up. She's given up pretending to be asleep half an hour ago. It's difficult enough without sopor slime, but being in a completely foreign environment that stinks like there's things that died in every little corner, that has been raining every other day or so, and has a lot of chattering little humans that tell them not to do this and that just makes you restless.  

And the fact that this foreign environment has been around them for more than a day.  

Maybe that's the worst part, that this dream bubble is lasting longer than most.

There's a lot about the situation to unpack. They're still struggling with the zipper.  

"Haven't you been listening to the meeting?"

"I have," Terezi says. She doesn't say much else.  

"I can go with you," Mai says. Vriska tunes back in.

"Absolutely not," Lookalike says. "Like you said, if something did happen - "

"I'll be fine," she says. "At least we'll find out if something is wrong. If there is, we'll report back here, and we'll figure it out."

"We're like, five-year-olds and seventeen-year-olds max, Mai, what the hell are we going to do?" the other taller kid says. "Steal street cones and throw it at them?"

"It could work."

"Mai, look, Shaun's right. We're kids. We have a - we have a fucking two year old." Lookalike motions his hand towards someone in the crowd. Vriska spots a girl, around the same boy's age, but she's got an even tinier human clinging to her, asleep. "What are we going to do?"

Mai's frown deepens.

"Whatever you're planning to do, don't," Terezi says.  

"We could get out of here," Vriska offers. "This place reeks."

"It's safe," Terezi says. "Use that brain for a second, will you - "

Someone's snappy.

" - and think. We don't know anything about this place aside from it being Earth. We don't know where we are and when we are. I'll take my chances here until I can get my bearings, thanks."

"That's very defeatist," she says, ignoring the whole 'this is Earth' part. "Where's your sense of spirit, Terezi?"

"Where's the rationality, Vriska?"

She hums, deciding not to answer that. Instead, she tries to listen back on what the kids  are talking about. There's bound to be something she can use here. They both can't stay under the bridge forever. Hell, even the kids can't stay under the bridge forever.  

Although, yeah, that's not really going to be a good talking point, since they go out a lot, although they seem to leave people behind in shifts, partly to guard the place, or listen to the purple and yellow radios they have hidden in a hole in one of the bridge's support pillars, and partly to...babysit Vriska and Terezi. Sometimes, it's entertaining, when she can get the kids to talk to her, and that's pretty easy. They're just adamant about three things: 1) It's not safe for her and Terezi to go out 'with their mutations', 2) Don't touch the radios, 3) Stay the fuck away from people in suits.

The last part is a bit of a bummer. People in suits look cool. Pity they're apparently antagonists.

Maybe those people are S.H.I.E.L.D. Huh.

"I've been practicing," she catches Mai say, fully turning her attention back to the conversation. "I think I've been doing well."

"We can contact Rei," the tall girl says. "Would be good to have a bit of back-up."

Mai seems to light up at that, and nods. "Yeah."

Lookalike, and the one named Shaun, share a look, both clearly uncomfortable with the situation. Vriska tries to review exactly what the situation is in her head:  

There's something called the Safehouse. From how the kids have been talking about it, and from the few snippets she's caught in the past few days, it lives up to its name and is a safehouse. This place's name may be New York. There's something called S.H.I.E.L.D., which is likely what the Safehouse is safehousing people against. These children use the Safehouse, or duck under there. There's people who run the Safehouse, but one of them was sick and the others brought them to something called a hospital.  

(Another part of the situation is that she can't remember anything as to how she's gotten here and that this dream bubble seems more different from most. More solid, somehow. More real.

Another is that denial does not suit her, but it seems to be the defense mechanism her brain has chosen right now.)

She gets up. Terezi does too, but only hisses, "What are you doing!"

Vriska throws her a grin, before speeding up so she's right by where the kids' leaders are gathered.

"Hiiiiiiii, Mai," she greets, waving a hand. The little girl looks up at her, a little surprised from being jolted out of planning land, but her expression melts into something friendlier, something more open.

Vriska's violently reminded of John. She shakes the thought away.

"So, I couldn't help but overhear what you guys were talking about," she starts. She hears Terezi already moving towards her. "And I thought, hey, if you need an extra hand to help you with eliminating any threats - " The tall girl raises an eyebrow at the wording. " - I can pitch in."

Terezi tugs on her sleeve as soon as she's beside her. "Vriska."

"Look, the Safehouse is obviously important," Vriska says. It's not lying. She knows enough about the Safehouse to know that it is, in fact, important, at least to these kids. Who knows, maybe it'll be important for her too, in terms of better shelter, maybe a way out of here.

That's getting dangerously close to acknowledging the situation. Hm.

"And Mai just wants to check if her friends are okay. Friends do that! It'll be good to check up on your friends," she turns to Mai at the last one, addressing her directly. "You can see what's going on, and if there's anything wrong, we can fix it. I can help."

When Terezi tries to interrupt her, she says. "And, it's a safehouse, right?" Self-preservation is a key to tap into nearly any creature. Not all of them, of course, there's a few that have a botched sense of it, but there are those that would do nearly anything to make sure they stayed alive and kicking.  

Vriska'd know. Not that it's the point. The point is, she knows Terezi, and she knows that, Terezi right now is confused and needs things to make sense because being lost and disoriented and being in the dark makes her feel like her center of gravity has been disrupted, and then she just gets weird about it. Vriska needs her to not get weird about it, because, on the off-chance that this is not a dream bubble, on the off-chance that something is wrong, they need to be on top of their game to get around this.  

Or at least know the rules enough to find loopholes around it. If this isn't a dream bubble then they need to get the out of here and back into the game, otherwise everything they'd have done to reach the point where they had been would have been all for naught.

Terezi's candy red scleras narrow, although she obviously can't see her. Her glasses had  already been broken when she'd been found. The humans didn't care, not that they even understood exactly what had happened to Terezi's eyes.

"Have either of you ever been to the Safehouse?" Shaun asks.  

"No," Terezi says, before Vriska can.  

The boy nods, thoughtful. "Maybe it would be best if you both stayed here," he says, "I'm sorry, but it's just dangerous out there. If you guys aren't from New York, and you're new here - there's these guys who kidnap mutants off the streets and we've never seen any of the kids who get taken again. We don't know what's happened to them."'

Terezi stiffens. So does Vriska. She knows they both have very different reasons.

"They're the guys in suits," Mai says. "We don't know what they're taking kids for, but we know we don't want to deal with that."

"And they're not with the Safehouse?" Vriska asks, fishing for information.  

"Oh, god, no," Shaun says. Mai and Lookalike let out nervous laughs. "No. The Safehouse is where we go every time there's attacks in New York, and when we want to hide from the men in suits."

Vriska's eyebrow had risen at the first phrase. "Attacks?"

"It's a long story, but New York gets attacked every now and then," Shaun says. "That's why the Safehouse is important."

Vriska hums. She turns to Terezi, who looks deep in thought.  

"Wouldn't it better, and wouldn't it make sense," she tries, "If you brought us to the Safehouse now? I mean, if there's going to be attacks here, in New York - " Her pronunciation is off, but it'll have to do. " - we need to know where to go, don't we?"

Mai and Lookalike share a look, so do Shaun and the tall girl.  

Terezi doesn't protest. Score, then.  

Besides, it's not like she's wrong. If this place has the danger factor of being attacked every now and then, it would be best to take note of all the safe points.  

"We think the Safehouse might be compromised," Mai says, "That's why maybe we should handle it ourselves."

"Oh, don't worry, I can handle myself too," Vriska says, grinning. "I'm great at handling myself. I can fight. Isn't that right?" She turns to Terezi at that.

"'She's got killer luck," Terezi says.

Vriska laughs. "Absolutely. And, well, I can help if the Safehouse is compromised," she says.

The kids give her weird looks.

"She can put hu - people to sleep," Terezi says.

"Oh." Mai turns to the boys, "Oh, that would be useful."

Vriska's grin gets wider. "See? Terezi can fight too, we can help you," she says.

"Mai," Lookalike says.

"Lester," Mai says in return. Lester. His name is Lester. Horrid.

"They're - well, civilians. Come on."

"We need the back-up," Mai says. "Besides, like you said, we're all kids. At least it would be good to have teenagers with us." Then she blinks, and turns back to them both with a look of confusion. "Wait, how old are you guys?"

"Eight," Vriska says, proudly. She's not sure, really. She could be nine, or close to nine,  but eight is always a good number to settle on, so eight it is.

The kids don't seem to hear her, though, because Terezi starts snickering to herself.

-

The gardens are silent.  

She's quite a hunter, Thor thinks, with a bit of glee and pride, keeping his footsteps light as he treads the cobblestone, trying to catch a glimpse of his pursuer. He doesn't see anything as he scans the trees, the bushes, even the walls around the shrubbery, for any indication of where she is.  

A joke is at the tip of his tongue, something along the lines of, you know, it's quite cowardly to hide from a battle, but he bites it down, bitter and foul in the back of his mind. He doesn't say those things anymore, he reminds himself. It is unfair to say those things.  

Besides, because of the fact that she's hidden, he's going to have a few precious seconds lost to being surprised and having to turn to where she's going to spring. This is tactics. And it's brilliant.  

Instead, he adjusts his hold on the sword he has in his hands, willing his own breaths to quiet down so he can hear his surroundings better. There is no wind, so there are no leaves rustling. There is no one else training in the gardens, so there are no swords clashing. There are no festivities reaching this parts of the kingdom, so there is no chattering.  

There's just Thor, and -  

He hears it, the sound of metal scraping, very, very faintly, but he's been in enough battles to be able to catch it.  

Thor turns on his heel, immediately pulling the foot he has behind him up so he can use that as support once he's pivoted, and brings his sword up in defense. There's a flash of gold that clashes against it, the sound sharp, and then the gold pulls back and dives.

Thor brings the sword down to block his knees from getting skewered. The gold retracts suddenly, gloved hands landing on the concrete instead, not even touching his sword, and then his attacker is flipping up and kicking both feet at the underside of his jaw.  

He staggers. She uses the momentum of her flip to land on her feet, and then she's pouncing on him again, coiling and uncoiling like a mountainbeast as she charges. He swings his sword upwards, the motion a little sloppy from disorientation, but the disadvantage of charging upwards at someone in a jumping motion, is that if they swing from the down up, you're going to get caught and are going to have a lovely new pocket between your intestines.

Her attention shifts quickly, and the gold is back with that same scrape of metal earlier, slamming against the blade to push it down. Thor yells and swings the sword like a bat, throwing her off of it.

She hits the ground with a grunt, a tumble, and then digs her golden claws into the dirt as soon as her feet touch soil, slowing her momentum down and keeping her upright.

Thor grins.  

"You've gotten even better, little lioness!"

Nepeta grins back at him.  

Maybe this is what Fandral had talked to him about, whenever both of them would play-spar with each other.  

"Picture this," the man had said, "Someone took the sun and condensed it into a living body. Except it's not you, in this scenario. It's the girl. But the thing is that you're also like if someone took the sun and put armor on it and let it loose onto the battlefield."

"Powerful and exuberant?" he'd joked.

Sif had snorted. "Obnoxious, more like."

Thor sheaths his sword, while Nepeta retracts her gold claws. He offers her a hand to help her up and she takes it. "You've gotten even faster."

"Thanks," Nepeta says, laughing. "You've gotten quieter."

"Ah, well, it's going to be a lot of help when we're stalking prairie beasts," he says, "Poor things spook too easily."

"Are you going to be hunting again?" Nepeta asks, eyes lighting up. Thor's never fancied himself to have paternal wishes, but he thinks he's starting to understand why some fathers look at their children and decide they're going to do their damnedest to give them the world.

"Not tonight, no," he says. "Sif and the others have yet to come back from Vanaheim."

She pouts at that, but the expression smoothens out after a few seconds. "They're supposed to be here in two days, right?"

He nods. "Yes, the kitchens have been busy trying to prepare for the feast," he says, and then, at the look of mischief in her eyes, "And no, young lady, you may not join the revelry."

"Awwwwww," she drags out the syllable on purpose, and Thor chuckles. "But it seems so fun."

"It's all just people getting drunk and smashing tanks," he says, and the words feel foreign in his mouth, feel wrong, feel like an apology, but not only to Nepeta. "You'd spend your time better somewhere else, little lioness."

Nepeta pauses for a moment, but then puts a hand to her chin, making an exaggerated show of thinking. "Purrhaps," she lets the 'r' roll as she speaks, and Thor bites down a laugh. "I can be persuaded if we can go to the observatory."

Ah, well, that's not that big a request. He hadn't planned on going to the feast anyway. Sif and the others would understand. They always would. They've understood for two years.

"And you won't sneak into the dining hall to snatch mead?"

"Promise," she says.  

"Alright, then, after dinner, we can go to the observatory," he says. "I've books I wanted to show you and Equius, anyway."

"Oh, have you been on Earth again?" She's nearly bouncing on her feet at the news. "Why didn't you tell me!"

He has no good reason for that, aside from, well, he doesn't know much about earth but he knows that there's a lot of trouble in it, and he'd rather they all avoid the mess that would come from all of them bumbling around a planet none of them are experts on.

Besides, Heimdall also told him, the first time he'd talked to him about maybe bringing Nepeta and Equius to visit Earth, that perhaps that would not be the best thing to do. All he had been able to say was that something was wrong. Thor's forgotten what exactly, now that he actually recalls the conversation, but he doesn't think it's too important to remember the specifics. All he knows is that he shouldn't be too lax with taking Nepeta and Equius anywhere.

Wait, that doesn't sound quite right.  

Still, if he doesn't remember it, there should be a reason why his brain has chosen to discard it. He'll ask Heimdall about it again later, maybe tonight.

Nepeta is still expecting an answer.  

"I thought you and Equius were having too much fun around here," he says.

"Well, we are," Nepeta says, "But I'd love to visit Earth. It's always seemed so interesting to me."

"Have you been to Earth?" he asks. He doesn't know exactly where she's been before she'd landed here, after all.

Ah, maybe the danger Heimdall had seen on Earth is connected to Nepeta arriving here.  Maybe it was chasing her and Equius, or something, and they'd tripped into a portal and ended up here.  

"No," she says, "I've just seen bits and pieces of it."

"That sounds like a quite a tale," he says, interested. This, he's never heard before.  

"Thor?"

Both of them turn. Mother stands by the decorative fencing of the veranda, looking at them. She scans the gardens, and, watching her expression, Thor looks around too. So does Nepeta, who winces.  

"Oops."

There's a small mess around them. Nepeta had gouged lines into the grass and earth when she'd dug her claws in earlier, and there are deep dents where her feet had tried to steady herself.     

"Sorry, mother," Thor says. He knows she won't be mad. Still, it's rude to destroy her gardens like this.

"Got too rough with your sparring?"

"Unfortunately," he says, and then claps Nepeta's back, beaming. "Our little lionness here is getting better with her new claws."

"I love them," Nepeta says, lifting her gloved hands up. The gloves are made of metal; Nepeta had told him about her old weapons from her home, a planet called Alternia, and Thor had suggested them after he'd remembered the Man of Iron's own light gaunlets, and learned that Equius had a gift for blacksmithing. He'd brought them both to a forge and helped them explain to the smiths what they wanted.

It had been fused with seiðr. She's loved them since she's gotten them seasons ago.

Mother laughs, stepping down the shallow staircase, to make her way towards them.  

"I'm glad you do, dear," she says, and inspects Thor's face, reaching up. When her fingers make contact with his jaw, he winces, and realizes there must be a reddened mark there, if not a bruise. She gives Nepeta an impressed look. "You really are getting better."  

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"None of that, now," she says. "Frigga will do."

Nepeta nods. She'll forget and call her Your Majesty again, Thor knows. It's adorable.

"Did you need us for anything?" he asks.

"Must I have a reason to see both of you?"

"Well." Thor rubs the back of his neck. "No."

Mother laughs. "I wanted to see the ruckus," she says, "And I wanted to tell you Sif and the Warriors Three have returned."

"Their journey was a success, then. They're ahead of schedule," Thor says. Mother turns, and he and Nepeta follow as she starts to make her way inside.

Mother purses her lips. Concern flits over Thor's face.

"Mother?"

"Yes, and no," she says. "The unrest in Vanaheim has been taken care of - oh, and I believe Sif wants to have words with you on that."

Nepeta glances at him, and they both grimace. Sif has been...concerned about his behavior lately, the parts where he's been skipping feasts and waving off offers for quests.  

"But the four of them have reason to believe there's something odd about Vanaheim."

Thor pauses. "The whole realm? That's a bit of a troubling attitude, isn't it?"

Mother laughs, fond. "Oh, no, my dear, not like that."

Their steps echo more and more as they weave through the palace; mother leads them down hallways until she reaches two, large, wooden double doors. One of them is open, and Thor can hear snippets of the conversation. Something about new things they've never seen before, something that doesn't belong, the air being wrong.

Thor frowns. Nepeta is still with him. This is a royal meeting.

He stops.

"Wait."

Mother stops, so does Nepeta. They turn to him. His voice, unfortunately, has carried to the War Room, and his friends also turn their attention to him.

"Thor!"  

He's barely able to crack a smile and raise a hand in a wave when they're already in front of him, clapping his back and pulling him into hugs, one by one.

"Good to see you, man, you've missed out on a lot in Vanaheim," Fandral says, hugging him last.  

"Like Fandral nearly getting cleaved in half," Volstagg mutters, to which Sif laughs and Fandral shoots the man a dirty look.  

"I'm sure it was a glorious battle, friends," Thor says. "But you've been more than enough in taking care of the situation. Tell me, what's warranted a call for a meeting?"

He glances at Nepeta, and puts a hand on her shoulder, protective. Nepeta seems to sense the situation and steps close.  

Sif doesn't miss the gesture.  

"Something that might be dangerous," she says, "We're not quite sure yet, but it's never a harm to be prepared."

"So it's nothing definite?"

"It's troubling, that's for sure," Volstagg says. "Some of the Vanir have been talking about - " A pause. "About magic that they've never felt before."

"Which in itself is already alarming, given the Vanir are proficient seiðr wielders," Sif says.  

Volstagg nods. "Some of the unrest hasn't purely been rebellion. There's been evacuations in small towns out of panic."

Thor frowns. "Vanir are sensitive to seiðr. If they've sensed this to be malicious enough for them to evacuate in a panic, then something is wrong."

Sif looks a little surprised at this, for a reason Thor can't pinpoint, but she nods. "It very well may be," she says.

"We've had oracles spouting prophecies," Fandral says, the playfulness in his expression earlier gone now, replaced with seriousness. "They say that things that do not belong in our realms have started to bleed into them. And I don't think that's a good thing."

"Have they felt it to be malicious? Definitively?" Thor asks, making sure.

Volstagg snorts. "Most definitely," he says. "One of the seers was screaming while in a fugue. Something about - what was it, exactly, about a reckoning?"

"He's here for the reckoning," Sif says. "He's here to cleanse everything."

"Right, that. And about something condescending. They referred to it weirdly, though, as if it was thing."

"That...is troubling," Thor admits.  

His mother touches his shoulder, comforting. "Perhaps we should move this to the War Room," she says.

Thor nods. The Queen leads the way inside, the rest of them following. Nepeta pulls on Thor's cloak."

"Thor," she whispers. "If they mean someone called The Condesce, then that's bad news."

He doesn't miss the way Sif glances at her, brows furrowed in concern.

Thor raises his voice a little. "Does she have to sit through the meeting?" he asks. "She's not a part of our troops."

The look in Sif's eyes soften. She sighs. "I'm sorry, Thor, but - " She motions to the table as they step inside. Equius is already at the table. "As far as creatures falling into realms they shouldn't be in, they certainly fit the criteria."

"Oh," Nepeta says.  

Thor clenches his jaw.