82 Aether

“How do I look?” Natasha asked as she stepped out from behind the changing rack, standing in front of Harry.

She was dressed in an amethyst-purple Asgardian robe, the rich fabric flowing elegantly around her yet cinched at the waist with a silver belt that accentuated her form. A silver stag brooch held the ensemble together at her shoulder, gleaming under the soft glow of the chamber’s enchanted lanterns. Her hair was framing her face in soft waves.

Harry stared, utterly captivated.

“It’s not a cocktail dress, but it’s not armor either,” Natasha remarked, running a hand along the smooth fabric. “It’s got more mobility than most dresses I have to wear during party missions, at least.”

Harry still hadn’t said a word. He just nodded, his admiration evident in his awestruck expression.

A smirk tugged at Natasha’s lips. “I take it that’s a good thing?”

“Can you pass me a knife?” Natasha asked casually.

Still mesmerized, Harry wordlessly conjured a blade and handed it to her without question.

Taking the knife, Natasha slit the side of her dress, the fabric parting just enough to reveal her flawlessly toned leg. Harry’s eyes followed the movement, his admiration completely unfiltered.

Natasha paid no mind to his lingering gaze as she reached for a thigh holster and strapped it around her leg. She then slid a compact gun into place before smoothing her dress back down. The slit barely showed anything now, and if you weren’t looking for it, you’d never know she was armed.

She shifted her weight, testing her mobility. “Perfect.”

Harry still hadn’t spoken, he just nodded dumbly.

Seeing that Harry was too dazed to offer any real opinion, Natasha checked herself out in the mirror. Satisfied, she grabbed Harry’s wrist and dragged him out of the room, ignoring his continued stunned silence.

Outside, Thor and Jane were already waiting. Jane had changed into a flowing golden Asgardian robe with a deep blue shawl draped elegantly over her shoulders. She fidgeted slightly, adjusting the fabric, clearly not used to such regal attire.

Natasha gave her an approving nod. “You clean up well, Foster.”

Jane offered a small, self-conscious smile. “Not as well as you,” she admitted, sneaking a glance at how effortlessly Natasha carried herself.

Natasha rolled her eyes good-naturedly before reaching over to give Jane’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Please. I’m just used to playing dress-up. For someone who spends 99% of their time in pajamas and lab coats, you’re absolutely killing it.”

Jane let out a soft laugh at that as the tension in her shoulders eased a little.

A messenger approached them, bowing slightly before speaking. “The Allfather has summoned you to the archives.”

Thor nodded in acknowledgment. “Very well.”

With that, the group followed the messenger, Jane and Natasha walking ahead. Their robes swayed elegantly with each step, and Harry found himself mesmerized by the way Natasha’s hair cascaded down her back.

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” Thor murmured, his voice filled with admiration.

Harry, still captivated by Natasha, responded without a second thought. “Breathtaking.”

Thor sighed happily. “I knew you would understand, brother.”

Harry smiled, still watching Natasha. “How could I not?”

Thor’s expression grew serious, his brows furrowing slightly. “But do you think it will work out?”

Harry barely registered the question, his mind still lingering on Natasha. “It has to.” His voice was full of conviction. “And if it doesn’t, we’ll make it work.”

Thor exhaled, visibly relieved. “Yes, of course!” Thor paused a bit before continuing “And what if Mother and Father do not approve?”

Harry let out a short laugh, finally tearing his gaze away from Natasha to glance at Thor. “Since when do their opinions matter? If you love someone, why should anyone else get a say in it?”

Thor’s eyes widened slightly, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Yes, you are right! If love is true, others should not interfere!”

Feeling a surge of camaraderie, Thor clapped a heavy hand on Harry’s shoulder, nearly making him stumble. Harry steadied himself, a little surprised by the sudden enthusiasm but smiling nonetheless.

“Yes!” Thor continued, his voice booming with newfound determination. “If you love someone, you must be willing to sacrifice everything for them. Thank you, brother!” Thor gripped both of Harry’s shoulders this time, shaking him slightly in excitement. “Your wisdom has truly enlightened me this day.”

Harry, still mildly baffled, just patted Thor’s arm. “Anytime…?”

Meanwhile, a few steps ahead, Natasha and Jane turned slightly at the sound of Thor’s voice rising in enthusiasm.

Jane raised an eyebrow. “What are they talking about?”

Natasha shrugged. “No idea.”

Back behind them, Harry watched as Thor marched ahead with newfound purpose, his jaw set, his expression determined.

Harry scratched his head. “…I feel like I just did something important.”

When they arrived at the archive, they were met by Frigga and Odin, both standing in quiet contemplation. Scrolls and ancient tomes lay open on the vast marble table before them, but neither seemed to be reading anymore. Instead, they were lost in thought.

The messenger cleared his throat and announced their arrival, breaking the tense silence. Odin barely reacted, his gaze fixed on something distant, his face carved into an unreadable mask. Frigga, however, turned to them with a gentle smile. Despite its warmth, it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Without a word, she approached Natasha first, reaching up to brush her fingers lightly against the assassin’s cheek. It was a small, almost motherly gesture, but Natasha, stiffened slightly before allowing herself to relax under Frigga’s touch.

Then, Frigga’s attention shifted towards Jane, and the warmth in her eyes turned into something more analytical. She took Jane’s hand and pressed her fingers gently against Jane’s wrist. A soft glow of golden magic seeped from Frigga’s fingers, weaving through Jane’s veins like threads of light beneath her skin. The glow quickly turned crimson, pulsing in warning. The eerie sight mirrored what Odin had done in the healer’s room.

Frigga’s features darkened. She let go of Jane’s hand slowly, the glow fading, but the unease in her expression remained. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she turned her gaze toward Odin, silently confirming what they both already feared.

Thor’s concern deepened as he studied his mother’s expression. “What is it, Mother? You do not look pleased with the diagnosis.”

Frigga’s gaze lingered on Jane for a moment before she turned to the rest of them. “Asgard is in greater danger than we imagined,” she said gravely.

Odin finally stirred, exhaling slowly as he lifted his hand. A ripple of golden energy spread from his fingertips, and the air before them shimmered as tiny motes of light gathered. He then sculpted them into dazzling miniature illusions, each no larger than a handspan, but rendered in such fine detail that they appeared almost alive.

The first image was of an endless abyss, an infinite darkness, empty yet oppressive. Then, with a subtle motion of Odin’s wrist, the darkness trembled. A brilliant explosion erupted in its center, light and energy expanding outward, shaping into whirling galaxies, cascading nebulae, and the delicate dance of celestial bodies forming in the newborn cosmos.

“The Nine Realms are not eternal,” Odin intoned, his voice echoing through the chamber as though carried by the wind itself. “They had a dawn… as they will one day have a dusk.”

As he spoke, the illusion of the young universe continued to unfurl before them—stars bursting into existence, planets coalescing from the cosmic dust. “But before that dawn,” Odin continued, his voice growing solemn, “there was something else. A time before light. A time before life.”

The beautiful cosmos began to reverse, stars collapsing, galaxies unraveling. The color and warmth of creation drained away, and in its place, there was nothing but an abyss once more.

And then… they appeared.

Twisted, elongated figures emerged from the void. They moved like shadows given form, their piercing silver eyes the only source of light in the abyss. Their armor, jagged and unnatural, gleamed under the non-existent light of their ruined dominion.

“The Dark Elves,” Odin said, his voice a whisper now, filled with quiet reverence and ancient dread. “Born of the primordial void, they reigned absolute and unchallenged. They were the first to rule the cosmos… and they sought to make that rule eternal.”

The Dark Elves moved across the illusion, their forms rippling like specters, yet striking with the swiftness of a storm. Weapons of dark energy crackled in their hands as they waged war against the encroaching light of creation, seeking to smother it before it could take root.

Jane shivered involuntarily. Even though the figures were only illusions, their presence sent a chill through the room, as if the very memory of them carried a lingering shadow.

“Born of eternal night, the Dark Elves come to steal away your light,” Thor added. He glanced at Jane, Harry, and Natasha. “They were stories Mother told us as children,” he explained. “Tales of an enemy long vanquished, a threat buried in the past.”

Odin waved his hand, and the illusion darkened once more. The celestial battlefield dissolved, replaced by an ominous figure emerging from the shadows. His form was clad in cruel, blackened armor, his face pallid, his piercing black eyes brimming with malice.

Frigga raised her own hand, seamlessly taking over the display. The swirling golden magic shifted into cool silvers and deep reds, the temperature of the air seeming to drop with it.

“Their leader,” she said, “Malekith.”

The illusion sharpened, revealing the Dark Elf leader in striking detail, tall and foreboding, his features both regal and nightmarish. He stood atop a broken throne of jagged black stone, an ominous presence against the backdrop of a dying star.

Frigga continued, “Malekith wielded a power born of the void itself. A weapon forged from pure darkness.”

With a flick of her wrist, the image of Malekith opened his hand, and from his palm, a swirling, liquid-like crimson substance coalesced into a floating mass of writhing energy. It pulsed violently, twisting and curling as if alive.

“The Aether,” she named it.

The substance lashed out like tendrils of living shadow, consuming everything it touched. Stars withered. Planets crumbled. The illusion displayed entire realms turning to blackened husks as the Aether spread its influence like ink spilling across the cosmos.

“It consumes. It twists matter into dark matter, unraveling the very fabric of existence.” Frigga elaborated. Frigga’s gaze darkened. “It is a parasite, one that seeks a host and feeds upon their life force until nothing remains.”

Odin clenched his fists. “Malekith sought to use the Aether’s power to return the universe to darkness.” Odin’s illusion continued to shift, depicting a time of war where golden Asgardian warriors clashing with the monstrous Dark Elves. “But Asgard would not allow it, and after a long war, my father Bor finally defeated them.”

Jane’s breath hitched. A cold realization settled over her, making her stomach twist.

“You don’t think…” she began hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Odin’s expression remained grave, his single eye locked onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. “We do. The Aether has infected you, Jane Foster. Even now, it is drawing upon your life force.”

Jane swallowed hard. She suddenly felt colder, as though something unseen was tightening its grip around her very soul.

Thor’s face darkened in disbelief. “But that’s impossible! I thought Grandfather destroyed the Aether!” he protested, his voice rising with frustration.

Odin turned to him. “That is what our histories tell us,” he admitted. “Every record from that time states that the Aether was destroyed.” A hint of frustration seeped into his voice as he continued. “Even my father’s personal records make no mention of it being contained.”

Jane’s breathing grew uneven. Panic bubbled up in her chest, her fingers curling into fists.

“Then can you get it out of me?” she asked shakily.

Frigga stepped forward and took Jane’s hands gently, as though trying to will calmness into her through touch. “Not yet,” she admitted. “But the healers are working on a device to extract it. As soon as they are ready, you will be the first to know.”

Jane exhaled sharply, nodding, but the tension in her shoulders did not ease.

Thor stood beside her, his hands clenched at his sides. He wanted to comfort her, to promise that everything would be alright but he wasn’t sure how. Instead, he reached out hesitantly, brushing his fingers against hers.

Jane looked up at him, offering a small, shaky smile, but neither of them could ignore the silent fear hanging in the air.

While the others were focused on Jane, Natasha’s mind was working through the implications of everything they had just learned. Her gaze flicked to Odin, observing his expression, which was not of concern, but calculating.

“You’re not actually worried about Jane being infected by the Aether, are you?” she said suddenly, breaking the tense silence.

All eyes turned to her in confusion, but Odin’s gaze, in contrast, sharpened with interest. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“You’re more concerned about what the Aether’s existence means,” Natasha continued. “If it was supposed to be destroyed but still exists, then what else could have survived? And more importantly, who else might come looking for it?”

Odin let out a low chuckle, his smirk deepening into something akin to approval. “She is sharp, this one.” He turned to Harry with a glint of amusement in his eye. “I approve.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at Odin, unimpressed by the sudden praise. But Jane, standing a few feet away, stiffened. Another flicker of insecurity crept into her expression. Odin had barely acknowledged her yet here he was, openly approving of Natasha, even complimenting her in a way he hadn’t with Jane.

The unspoken comparison stung.

“Regardless,” Odin continued, his gaze sweeping over the group, “as you pointed out, child, it is not simply the Aether’s presence within Jane that concerns us. It is what its return signifies.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “You think the Dark Elves will resurface too?”

“Malekith sought to use the Aether to plunge the universe into eternal night during the last Convergence,” Frigga explained, her voice carrying the weight of ancient history. “That event occurs only once every five thousand years.”

“And now, that time has come again.” Odin’s gaze darkened. “If the Aether has reappeared, then it is only logical to assume that Malekith or his forces may follow.”

“How can you be sure that the Dark Elves might still be alive?” Jane asked skeptically.

Odin turned his gaze toward Harry. “Because he is alive.”

Harry blinked. “Me?”

Odin nodded solemnly. “For over a thousand years, we believed that your kind had been wiped from existence. And yet, against all expectations, you stand here before us. A living contradiction to what we thought we knew.” His gaze swept over the others. “Ever since Harry’s appearance, Frigga and I have been reevaluating what other so-called extinct species might still be out there.”

Frigga placed a gentle hand on Odin’s arm. “The Dark Elves never once crossed our minds. We thought them lost to time and war. But now…” She glanced at Jane. “The Aether has resurfaced. That means the past is not as buried as we once believed.”

A tense silence settled over the room as the weight of her words sank in.

“The Nine Realms are vast,” Thor argued. “How can you be sure that the Dark Elves will even know where to look? There are infinite places the Aether could be hidden before the Convergence reaches its peak.”

“If you know what you're looking for, distance doesn’t matter,” Harry countered thoughtfully. “Magic can bypass space, dimensions and even time. And considering Malekith created the Aether, do you really think he wouldn’t have built a way to track it?”

A tense silence fell over the group as that possibility sank in.

“The Aether is too important to him,” Harry continued, his voice grim. “If he left any kind of connection to it, whether through magic, intent, or even his own lifeblood, it means the moment it was unleashed, he would know. If the Dark Elves, or Malekith himself, are still alive, it won’t be long before they pinpoint its location.”

“Thor said that Asgard is already spread thin, will you be able to protect yourself from this unknown enemy?” Natasha enquired a bit concerned.

Thor's jaw tightened at Natasha’s question. “Asgard may be spread thin, but the Nine Realms can hold themselves together until the Convergence ends. Right now, we deal with the Dark Elves.” His voice hardened. “Our priority must be to protect Jane. That takes precedence over everything.”

Odin exhaled through his nose. “While I would like to refute my son on principle alone…” His lips pressed into a thin line. “He is right.”

Jane blinked at the reluctant admission, but Odin ignored her and shifted his gaze to Harry and Thor. “Whether I like it or not, the security of Jane Foster has become Asgard’s greatest concern.” His voice carried the weight of authority, but also the barest hint of annoyance. “I need the two of you to coordinate with the Einherjar and ensure Asgard is prepared for any attack. I want our defenses strengthened, our warriors armed, and every possible entry point secured.” He paused. “Coordinate with the historians as well. Learn everything there is to know about our enemy. I will not have us caught unprepared.”

Thor and Harry exchanged a glance before nodding resolutely.

Frigga turned to Natasha and Jane. “The two of you will remain with me until this matter is resolved,” she declared.

Jane swallowed, shifting uneasily. Natasha, on the other hand, squared her shoulders. “You got any weapons I can use?” she asked without hesitation.

Odin and Frigga exchanged glances, and for the first time since the meeting began, their faces brightened with matching smiles beaming, proud, and just a little amused.

“Follow me,” Frigga said, her voice laced with approval as she led Natasha and Jane away with a newfound enthusiasm in her step.