83 Asgardian Armoury

Frigga led Natasha toward a nearby barrack, while Jane trailed behind them, her shoulders slightly hunched, still feeling the weight of her earlier conversation with Odin and Thor. The rhythmic clash of swords and the sharp bark of orders filled the air, but as soon as the queen and her companions entered, all movement ceased. Warriors lowered their weapons, watching curiously as the trio made their way toward the armoury.

Lady Sif, mid-spar with a fellow soldier, caught sight of them and frowned slightly. As the highest-ranking warrior present, it was her duty to investigate. With a flick of her wrist, she disarmed her opponent, dismissed him without a word, and strode after them.

Frigga led Natasha and Jane into the armory of the barrack where rows of gleming weapons lined the walls, each meticulously maintained and waiting for a worthy hand. Natasha eyes scanning the selection, while Jane, ever the scientist, lingered behind, inspecting weapons with a mixture of fascination and analysis, trying to decipher the technology behind their craftsmanship.

“I know that you do not wield magic, even though your soul is Harry’s other half,” Frigga remarked as her gaze lingering on Natasha. The statement caught both Natasha and Jane off guard, while Sif, who had silently followed, raised an eyebrow in interest.

Before either woman could question her, Frigga gestured toward a set of beautifully crafted staves. “Because of that, I will not bore you with weapons that require magical energy to wield.”

She turned and motioned toward another section of the armory, where swords, spears, staffs, shields, and knives were neatly displayed. "Instead, here are some weapons you may find more familiar."

Natasha stepped forward, running her fingers along the metal, feeling the weight and balance of each weapon as she tested their grip. She picked up a few swords, testing their length and weight before discarding them. A spear caught her attention, and she spun it fluidly, feeling its balance before giving a satisfied nod.

Finally, her fingers brushed over a set of throwing knives. She selected a few, testing their sharpness and grip, a small smirk forming as she weighed them in her palms.

“These will do,” she said simply.

Frigga then diverted Natasha and Jane’s attention to another section of the armory, where weapons unlike anything found on Earth rested on polished stands. Their designs were sleek yet ornate, bearing the unmistakable craftsmanship of Asgardian smiths.

"I believe these may be more in line with what your people call 'guns,'" Frigga said, gesturing toward a shelf of blasters. Unlike Earth’s firearms, these lacked traditional barrels or magazines, instead pulsing faintly with golden runes.

Intrigued, Natasha stepped closer as Frigga unlocked a cabinet, revealing an array of weaponry that blended advanced Asgardian magic with Midgardian firearm concepts. “Instead of firing metal projectiles like the weapons of your world, these channel concentrated bursts of Odinforce,” Frigga explained.

Natasha’s eyes gleamed with interest as she reached for one, testing its weight in her palm. It was lighter than she expected.

“Can I test them out at a shooting range or something?” Natasha asked as her fingers brushed over the intricate engravings.

Frigga smiled approvingly and turned to Sif. Without a word, Sif strode out of the armory, motioning for a few Einherjar to set up targets for live testing.

While waiting, Natasha picked up one weapon after another, testing their grips and feeling their balance. By the time the Einherjar returned, Natasha had already selected a few that felt the most natural in her hands, ready to put them to the test.

The Entourage headed towards the target range where, a weapons master stood behind an obsidian counter. He bowed slightly as Frigga led Natasha forward.

“I am Kjeld, master of arms,” the man introduced himself. “The Queen tells me you seek weapons suited to your skill set.”

Natasha simply nodded.

Kjeld’s gaze assessed her, his fingers gliding over the selection before him. “We shall begin with something elegant yet efficient.”

He first lifted a weapon that vaguely resembled a Midgardian handgun, if handguns were crafted by Mythological Norse craftsman. The frame was slender but reinforced, golden runes tracing the barrel like veins of raw power. He handed it to Natasha.

“This is the Hǫggva. It channels a controlled burst of Odinforce, designed for quick-draw combat.”

Natasha flipped the weapon in her palm, testing the weight. Lighter than a Glock, but perfectly balanced. She turned, aimed at the nearest target, and squeezed the trigger. A pulse of golden energy shot forward, striking dead center.

She fired three more times in rapid succession with each shot landing exactly on the same spot as before.

Kjeld nodded approvingly. “You have steady hands.”

Natasha smirked. “I’ve had practice.”

Kjeld then gestured to the next weapon aheftier, with a broad, rune-covered barrel and a solid grip.

“The Vörðr, a scatter blaster in our tounge. Less precise, but devastating at close range.”

Natasha braced herself, and fired. A concussive wave of energy erupted, sending a ripple through the air and the target shattered into nothing.

“Oh, I like this one,” she muttered, pumping it once more for good measure.

Next, Kjeld presented a longer weapon.

“The Griðungr, capable of sustained rapid fire. The longer you hold the trigger, the stronger the energy output.”

Natasha lifted it to her shoulder, exhaled, and squeezed the trigger. The weapon hummed as a barrage of energy pulses erupted, each striking the target creating a trail from the torso to the head.

She moved minimally as she fired at multiple targets, adjusting her aim effortlessly.

“Adaptable,” Kjeld noted, watching her shift stances.

“That’s the job,” she said, lowering the weapon.

Kjeld next picked up a long-barreled weapon with intricate golden filigree.

“The Skuggaauga, a long-range caster with a lens enchanted to enhance vision. Perfect for eliminating targets from a distance.”

Natasha raised the weapon, peering through the scope. Instantly, her vision sharpened andshe could see individual threads on the Einherjar’s tunics across the training field.

She found a target suitable for the test, exhaled, and pulled the trigger. A single silent shot rang out, hitting the bullseye of the farthest target.

Kjeld arched a brow.

Kjeld now motioned toward a stockier, rune-carved launcher.

“The Reiðar for when subtlety is not required.”

Natasha held it steady, aimed at a reinforced target, and let loose. A blazing sphere of energy burst forth, slamming into the target with an explosion of golden light.

“Subtlety is overrated anyway,” she mused.

Finally, Kjeld presented the last weapon a massive, rune-etched launcher that radiated raw power.

“The Þrumu, an annihilation caster. One shot is enough to level a battalion.”

Natasha took the weapon, testing its weight. “Only one way to find out.”

She took aim at an empty section of the training field, fired, and watched as an earth-shaking explosion sent a shockwave rippling outward. Dust and debris scattered.

Natasha exhaled. “Now that is firepower.”

Kjeld crossed his arms. “You handle yourself well. Have you made your selection?”

Natasha turned to him, straight-faced. “I want them.”

Kjeld’s brow lifted. “Which one?”

She smirked.

“All of them.”

Frigga and Jane exchanged amused glances, Kjeld let out a hearty chuckle. “A woman of fine taste.”

Sif folded her arms, her expression one of barely concealed disdain. “It’s one thing to fire at unmoving targets. Quite another to face a real opponent.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow but remained silent as Sif took a step forward, looking her up and down with clear disappointment.

“I had expected more from the woman who holds the title Lady Potter.” Sif’s tone dripped with condescension. “But from what I have seen, you are just like any other mortal fragile and limited. You do not belong in this world of magic.” Her gaze flicked to Jane as well, dismissing them both. “It would be best if you remained in your own realm, far from matters beyond your comprehension.”

Natasha met Sif’s stare evenly, unfazed. Then, she smirked.

“You’re right,” she said, tone deceptively casual. “I am just a mortal.” She reached for the spear she had chosen earlier, twirling it once to test its weight. “So why don’t you show me what makes an immortal so special?”

Sif narrowed her eyes. “You wish to spar with me?”

Natasha tilted her head. “Unless you’re afraid you might lose to a mere mortal?”

Sif scoffed, rolling her shoulders. “Very well.” If she agreed, it was only because she wanted to put Natasha in her place.

Frigga hesitated, placing a hand on Natasha’s arm. But the assassin gave her a knowing look, silently conveying that she had this under control.

A circle of Einherjar formed around the training grounds as Natasha and Sif took their positions. The Asgardians were grinning, already certain of the outcome. Lady Sif was one of Asgard’s finest warriors, no mere mortal could hope to challenge her.

Sif spun her spear in one hand, planting the butt of it into the ground. “I will not hold back,” she warned.

Natasha smirked, rolling her shoulders. “Good. I’d hate for this to be over too quickly.”

A beat of silence. Then Sif lunged. Sif struck first, her spear slicing through the air with enough force to shatter stone. But Natasha was already moving. She ducked under the attack, spinning away just as the weapon whistled past where her head had been a fraction of a second earlier.

Sif pressed forward. She swung high but Natasha weaved low. A jab to the ribs that Natasha sidestepped, twisting gracefully out of reach. A downward slash and Natasha flipped backward, landing light as a feather before darting in close.

Crack!

The shaft of Natasha’s spear smacked against Sif’s exposed ribs before she danced away again, untouched.

Sif growled, attacking again, faster this time. She transitioned into rapid thrusts, trying to force Natasha onto the defensive. But Natasha moved before Sif could adjust, slipping through gaps in her technique like water through fingers.

A sharp thwack as Natasha’s spear connected with Sif’s shoulder.

A pivot and another strike but this time to Sif’s wrist, forcing her to loosen her grip.

Sif snarled in frustration, doubling her efforts. But every time she attacked, Natasha wasn’t there. She was a shadow, an echo, always one step ahead.

And the crowd noticed.

The murmurs started low at first, then growing. The Einherjar exchanged glances, their cocky grins fading. Lady Sif hadn’t landed a single hit.

Sif, breathing harder now, tried to change tactics. She feinted a high strike before swinging low, aiming to sweep Natasha’s legs out from under her.

Natasha simply leapt, flipping over the attack with an ease that should have been impossible for a human. She landed behind Sif and, before the warrior could react—

Smack!

Natasha’s spear tapped against the back of Sif’s knee.

Sif whipped around, furious, and lashed out wildly. But her frustration made her sloppy. Natasha caught the attack mid-motion, twisting her own spear around Sif’s, wrenching it from her grasp.

Sif’s weapon flew across the arena, clattering onto the ground.

Natasha grinned. “Oops.”

The arena fell silent.

Sif stood there, fists clenched, chest heaving. She had been utterly humiliated.

Sif’s eyes darkened. A flicker of golden energy crackled at her fingertips. She raised a hand with magic gathering, coalescing into power.

Natasha tensed, instincts screaming at her that something was about to go very, very wrong.

But before Sif could release the energy—

“Enough.”

Frigga’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.

The magic in Sif’s hand dissipated instantly as she stiffened, turning to face the Queen.

Frigga’s expression was calm, but there was an unmistakable steel in her eyes. “Do not let your pride lead you to dishonor yourself, Sif.”

Sif’s jaw tightened. For a moment, it looked as if she would argue but then she turned sharply on her heel, storming away without another word.

Jane rushed forward. “Natasha! Are you okay?”

Natasha grinned, twirling her spear once before resting it against her shoulder. “Never better.”

The Einherjar who had been so smug before were now eyeing Natasha with a new kind of respect.

Frigga, watching it all unfold, smiled approvingly. “If not magic, it seems that the connected soul does provide you with benefits, Lady Potter.”

Natasha looked at Frigga confused in her cryptic comment.

“That was so cool,” Jane breathed, her eyes still wide with admiration. “I wish I was half as talented as you are.” Her voice trailed off slightly, tinged with self-doubt.

Natasha scoffed lightly. “Thanks, but don’t sell yourself short.” She turned to Jane, her expression shifting from amusement to something more serious. “I didn’t just wake up one day and be this good. I was raised to fight people who were stronger, faster and better than me in every way. Survival meant adapting or dying. And getting this good?” Natasha let out a humorless chuckle. “It came at a price I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

Jane frowned. “What do you—”

“The Red Room,” Natasha interrupted, her voice flat. For a brief moment, her hand ghosted over her stomach, a silent reminder of everything that had been taken from her and the cost of ‘perfection.’

Jane hesitated, picking up on the weight of Natasha’s words. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

Natasha shook her head. “You didn’t. I just mean… no one should have to go through what I did.” She let out a breath, pushing the memories aside. “Point is, don’t compare yourself to me. You don’t have to be a fighter to be strong.”

Jane looked down, toeing the ground with her boot. “Yeah, well… whatever I am, I’m just an inconvenience to Odin and Frigga.” Her voice was small, defeated. “You impressed them. I just exist.”

Natasha let out a slow sigh. “How close were you to recreating the Einstein–Rosen bridge when you were working with SHIELD?” she asked.

Jane hesitated, then dropped her gaze to her feet, avoiding Natasha’s eyes.

Natasha didn’t wait for an answer. “Let me tell you something that very few people know, something classified to all but the highest levels of SHIELD.” Her voice was even, but there was a weight behind it, something that made Jane look up again. “When Thor left for Asgard, Harry went with him.”

Jane frowned slightly. “Yeah, I know that, but—”

“Do you know what that meant for SHIELD?” Natasha cut in. “Putting aside his relationship with me, Harry is one of the most important assets SHIELD has ever had. Top three, easily. Getting him back wasn’t just my priority. It was a top-level, all-hands-on-deck mission. Fury himself threw every resource he had into making sure we could bring Harry home.”

Jane’s brow furrowed. “I… I didn’t realize—”

“Of course you didn’t,” Natasha said, nodding. “Because no one told you. But let me ask you this, do you know who came the closest to cracking the Einstein–Rosen bridge?”

Jane shook her head. “Selvig?” she guessed. “Or maybe—”

Natasha smirked. “Not Stark or any other scientist working on this project.” She leaned in slightly. “You, Jane.”

Jane blinked. “What?”

“I had a personal stake in that research,” Natasha said, crossing her arms. “I read every report, studied every breakthrough. And out of everyone working on that problem, from SHIELD’s best to the world’s leading scientists, you were this close to breaking through.” She held up two fingers, barely apart. “You, Jane Foster, figured out more in months than some of the smartest minds on the planet did in years.”

Jane stared at her, speechless.

“So no,” Natasha continued, her voice firm. “You’re not an inconvenience. And you’re definitely not just some mortal tagging along.” She smirked. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Odin and Frigga already know how brilliant you are. They just don’t know how to handle it yet.”

Natasha took a deep breath and exhaled slowly again. “Look, Frigga and Odin don’t like me because of me. They like me because I’m Harry’s lover.”

Jane frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

Natasha met her gaze. “Harry isn’t their son. He’s not bound by Asgardian expectations the way Thor is. And on top of that, we share this… mythical bond that even I don’t fully understand, but from what I’ve gathered, it carries a hell of a lot of prestige around here. To them, my connection to Harry makes me worthy by default.”

Jane absorbed that for a moment, her fingers fidgeting slightly.

Natasha sighed. “Trust me, if I were Thor’s love interest, I’d be getting the same scrutiny you are. Maybe worse.”

Jane gave a small nod, her expression thoughtful.

Natasha placed a firm hand on Jane’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Listen, you’re smarter than half the people in this golden castle put together. You built a way to track interdimensional anomalies before you even knew magic existed. You were this close to creating a bridge between worlds, something Stark himself couldn’t pull off. You think some stuck-up immortals sneering at you changes any of that?”

Jane hesitated before shaking her head.

“Damn right, it doesn’t,” Natasha said firmly. “Thor chose to be with you not because of some cosmic accident. But because you earned it. It is because of your wit, intelligence, personality and everything that makes you, you. You’ve done things no other scientist has ever dreamed of, and if these Asgardians can’t see that? Screw ‘em.”

Jane let out a small chuckle, some of the tension in her shoulders easing.

Natasha smirked. “Besides, you and I? We need to stick together. We can’t let these Asgardian women take our men, now can we?”

Jane laughed, a real, genuine laugh. “No, we definitely can’t have that.”

“Exactly,” Natasha said, nudging her playfully. “Now, let’s go. If I’m going to be stuck in this magic wonderland, I need some actual food that isn’t just golden apples and mead.”

As they walked side by side out of the armory, Jane stood a little taller, a little more confident. She wasn’t just Thor’s human lover anymore. She was Jane Foster, and she was ready to prove it