Asgard: Beginning of the End

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After rescuing Angelo and Jubilee, the group gets supplies from the Light Elves, but while they take a breather, the Enchantress replaces Miles with a fetch, stealing him off to her castle. When the deception is discovered, everybody goes hell-for-leather toward Casa Amora.

And we do mean everybody.



Marie-Ange stretched out on the ground, cloak spread underneath her. She'd pull out her bedroll later, but for the moment, it was just good to rest and be off the damn horse. For now, she was ignoring the chill seeping from the ground, through the thick wool and into her back in favor of relaxing her tired muscles. If she lay there long enough, hopefully someone, preferably Shiro, would start a fire and there would be food involved. Hopefully -hot- food.

Shiro sat a short distance away, his back to his companions. He was lost in thought, remembering his deeds as the Norn's champion, which brought first a small smile and then a frown to his face. He was exhausted, hungry, and homesick. He was supposed to go home just a day after he'd been sent to Asgard, and he was not very happy that the trip had been postponed. Nor was he particularly looking forward to explaining the concept of godly dimensions to Mariko.

Doug walked over and squatted next to Marie-Ange's recumbent form. "Angie, love?" he asked softly. "You should probably get up off the ground. You'll catch cold if the snow gets all your clothes wet." He managed to help her to a sitting position and rubbed her shoulders soothingly.

**********************

While the others were resting, having done all the necessary trading, Angelo remained in the Light Elf camp, trying to get an audience with Calin. This was proving a little more difficult than he'd anticipated, since the guards were claiming not to know who he was.

His luck soon changed when Falla appeared out of nowhere, limping up to him to give him a hard up-and-down look.

"So, boy. You survived, did you? Where have you been since the battle?"

Angelo met his gaze unflinchingly. "Got captured", he answered bluntly. "Been workin' as a blacksmith in the Dark Elf camp, 'til my friends - the traders that were here - broke me out. Now we're workin' on a way to go home, an' I wanted to say goodbye."

Falla studied him for another long moment, then nodded, seemingly satisfied. "You'd best come to see the King first, then. Ask to be released from your service."

Angelo blinked, having not even realized that would be necessary, but followed the Swordmaster meekly. He didn't want to anger the elves and end up having to be freed from captivity again, after all.

Some time later, he emerged from the royal tent smiling. It had taken a little persuasion - Andin hadn't been at all happy to be losing his prize warrior for a second time - but he'd eventually been convinced - with Falla's help - that the best thing was to let Angelo go home, and had reluctantly given his blessing. He was even letting Angelo keep his sword and armor as a souvenir of his time with the elves.

Falla followed Angelo out of the tent, moving forward to catch his attention. "So, lad, you'll be leaving us. I'm sorry to see you go", he said brusquely. "You weren't a bad student, a reasonably quick learner." He reached to clasp Angelo's arm for a moment, then let go and turned to walk away, calling back a simple, "I wish you luck. Farewell."

Angelo watched him go, and when he turned back, he discovered that Calin was standing not five feet away, looking at him with something like disbelief. Realizing he'd been seen, the elf came closer, and said quietly, "I had given you up for lost. You escaped the Dark Elves, then? How?"

Angelo gave him a crooked half-smile. "I had help. Turns out a fair few of my friends from home did end up here too, an' they came an' got out me an' our friend Jubilee, who was stuck there with me." He sighed. "Listen, Calin, there's somethin' I have to tell you. I'm not stayin'. I'm goin' with my friends an' we're gonna find a way to get home. Already got your father's permission."

Calin stilled for a moment, taking that in. "I see. Well, then, I can only wish you luck. Perhaps whoever is responsible for you all being here will be willing to send you back. I will, however? regret your departure. And not just as a warrior? I came to regard you as a friend during your training, though I never said so."

Angelo grinned. "Oh, me too. But I gotta go home, you understand? There's people there I love, an' if I have a chance to get back, I need to take it."

Calin nodded. "I understand. If for any reason you aren't able to return home, you and your friends will always have a welcome here. You have only to come back and ask for me."

"Thank you", Angelo replied sincerely. "I'll bear it in mind. And if we do find a way, I'll get a message to you if I can to let you know. But if you don't hear from me, better to assume we're gone."

With another nod, Calin stepped forward for the arm-clasp that was the Elves' usual method of greeting and farewell, but then apparently thought better of it and turned it into a somewhat clumsy hug, which Angelo returned, a little surprised by the uncharacteristic show of emotion. Stepping back after a moment, he said simply, "I hope you find your way home. Goodbye, my friend."

He waited only long enough to hear Angelo answer, "Goodbye. And thanks for everything", before turning and walking away without looking back. Angelo watched him go, then headed back to the place where his friends were camped out, his business with the elves well and truly complete.

********

Jamie wandered over and nudged Miles gently. "Hey, kiddo--we're gonna rustle up some food pretty soon, you hungry?"

There was no response, and when Jamie brushed the blanket back from the little boy's face worriedly, his features were . . . wrong. Close, very close, but the eyes were just a trifle too far apart, the green skin vaguely the wrong shade, the body language was off . . . Jamie tallied the discrepancies in his mind and came up with a total that made his blood run cold.

"Oh, shit. GUYS! We have a problem!"

A gleeful hiss erupted from the small form, which nimbly leapt up, limbs winding around Jamie's face as it howled out with a scratchy voice.

"Little boy gone! Little boy lost! Little boy all ours now!" it chanted, head turning near impossibly fast as it looked at them all in turn, eyes gleaming with unholy delight. Maniacal laughter soon danced through the camp, the jagged teeth of the fetch gleaming disturbingly bright.

Jamie reeled back, flailing desperately at the thing on his face. Blood welled, stinging, from claw-marks on his forehead as he ripped it off and threw it at a tree with an incoherent, furious roar, but it skittered into the woods and vanished as he brought up his staff.

"GodDAMMIT!" He slammed the staff into a tree instead. "Somebody got Miles. Somebody. Got. Miles. I swear, if they've hurt him . . ."

Shiro didn't waste any time. He raced into the woods, his fiery aura providing light so that he could see through the trees. If that little puke's friends had stolen Miles, then he'd know where they are.

But the thing was either too fast or too magical, or both. Shiro couldn't spot a trace of it. Swearing under his breath, he made his way back to the camp. "Disappeared. What was that?"

"Someone go get Angelo, -now-." Marie-Ange snapped, pulling herself away from Doug roughly. Heedless of the snow on the ground, she knelt, brushing away the concerned touch at her shoulder. "I know what I'm -doing-."

Clenching her fists in preparation, she bent her head and silently offered a quick prayer - both to Odin and the God she had been raised to worship. Any single tiny chance she could take to try to make this work was worth doing.

Having not bothered with her cloak, she winced minutely when Memory landed on her unprotected shoulder and dug in. ~Worth it.~ There would be no way to tell who had taken Miles -exactly-, but she could come -close-. The pain behind her eye was duller, a searing burn, rather than the sharp stab she had grown to accept, and Marie-Ange let out a sharp cry of surprise before curling up further and burying her head in her arms.

Doug was back to Marie-Ange's side in a heartbeat, cradling her against his chest. Prying her arms away from her head, he massaged her temples and the bridge of her nose gently to try and take away as much of the pain as possible. "What is it, love? What did you see?"

The reply was terse, with anger more than pain. "Amanda."

"You said she was with the Enchantress, Doug," Jamie growled. "Do you know where?"

Doug grimaced. "Oh, I know _exactly_ where the Enchantress' castle is," he replied grimly. After making sure Marie-Ange was firmly on her horse, he practically sprang into his saddle. Bedrolls were replaceable, and right now speed was of the essence. "We ride, NOW!" he yelled, booting his horse to a gallop.

Jamie swung up onto Misty's back and, with a muttered apology to the rather startled horse for the uncharacteristic speed, sent her after Doug.

Somehow, the plucky mare must have understood something of what had gone on, because with a toss of her head and a ringing whinny, she pulled level with Doug's horse within moments.

"I'll follow you from the sky," Shiro said as the other mounted their horses, while he himself started lifting off the ground. "I'll take care of anything that could possibly detour us." The others began to ride, and he flew, on the lookout for any distractions.

Grabbing Jubilee by the waist - and getting a "Dude! Hello, no squishing the pixie!" for her trouble, Marie-Ange roughly stuffed the firecracker-turned-fae into her saddlebag.

"Keep your head down, and try to get under one of my spare shirts. We don't have time to avoid branches."

Pulling up into her the saddle, she kicked her own horse roughly, hanging onto the reins tightly as the horse sped into a full gallop.

The horses' eagerness for speed probably wasn't being hurt any by the fact that they had been joined relatively openly by the wolves. Most weren't visible at any given time, but some were, and as the ones who'd had the most chance to get the horses at least moderately used to them, Rahne and Hrimhari were racing abreast of the leaders and not far off. Rahne was suddenly even gladder than usual of the long chases with the pack.

She and Hrimhari shared a quiet snarl of frustration at not having gotten their teeth into the fetch -- it gave nasty cuts, but so did they -- and then saved their breath.

The roar of fire from Shiro overhead accompanied them on their wild race towards the Enchantress' castle, underscored by the whinnies of horses and the hunting howls of the wolf pack.

Distant roars heralded them however, a large shape flying towards the castle, the woman atop the dragon streaming and angry trail of light in her wake as a winged horse bearing two figures struggled to keep up behind it. In the dragon's claws a tiny shape struggled and cursed, the fetch unable to escape its latest ivory prison.

The cavalry was on its way.