Revenge| Book 6| A novel in the Blue Moon series| An Avengers fan fiction series |

Part Six: Winning a War is Not Winning

I'M DONE WITH HIGH SCHOOL!!!! *SCREAMS WITH JOY*

Graduation is in 2 weeks, but no more classes!
Here's a short intro that mimics the intro to the first part. 

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Part 6: Winning a War is Not Winning

Fate loves a rebel.

But in the end, fate is going to be fate. Just as I will always be Theodora. Just as Loki will always be Loki. Just as Jack will always be Jack. And just as my brother, wherever he is, will always be my brother.

Maybe we can't fight fate and win, but we can sure fight it and make it fall to its knees. And that's all you really need. That's what I did, anyway.

I stand there panting as the final flames from the Sword of Kiahriah vanish into the wet air, panting as Neidra burns away. Her black ashes shift in the wind until they, too, disintegrate into nothing. Nothing. That is what the hell that became my life has become. Nothing.

Sucking in a deep breath, I right myself, walking through the streaks of pain running through my limbs. For some reason, my body feels heavier than usual. But I've always walked through the pain. And I've always stayed standing.

Distantly, over the whooshing of the wind and the clanging of the battle below, I hear someone take a hoarse breath. Jerking my head to the side and squinting through the rain, I see Loki slowly sitting up, his blackened fingers gripping a rock to help him keep his balance.

I hurry to him, sliding to my knees and taking his arm and slinging it over my shoulder. We are near the edge of the canyon, and looking down, I can see the remnants of the right unfolding on either side of the Fletohein River. Neidra's forces, without their head, are falling quickly.

Loki's wet, dirty hair is plastered to his face, just like mine. Blood leaks from the wound in his side, but his eyes are green and wide.

"Neidra," he says.

"She's dead," I whisper, looking at my golden sword, then at the tendrils of dark gold running up and down my arms.

He raises my chin with his trembling fingers. "We won, kitten."

Biting my lip, I shake my head. "No, we didn't. Winning a war isn't winning. People died." I take a staggered breath, trying not to think too much. "We might have won Asgard, but we didn't win."

"Videl," Loki murmurs. "He's gone, isn't he?"

His eyes are full of heavy sympathy and the beginnings of guilt. An expression I know too well. I realize now that even when Neidra and Caomh are dead, they are trying to kill me with heartbreak.

I bite my lip again and turn away, unable to answer. A heavy emptiness has settled in me, ringing through my joints and making my head begin to spin. Videl is gone. It hurts so much, I almost wish Neidra won and ran a sword through my heart instead of the other way around.

"I want to give you something," says Loki quietly. "Something I should have returned a long time ago."

Dully, I look up at him. "What?"

Gently, he touches my temple with his blood-painted fingers. Instantly, I am thrown into a funnel of darkness, falling forward so quickly, I don't know if I am falling up or down.

And then, my eyes open.

I'm in my room, watching as a cloaked Loki picks up a baby in his arms and holds her close, singing her to sleep. When the baby's eyes meet her father's, I realize they are mine. Soon, they flutter shut in sleep, and I am taken away.

Again, I'm in my room, watching a five year old version of myself being held Loki's arms as I point to the cat and ask what it's name is in Asgardian. Soon after, Loki takes me to Asgard. Frigga's eyes are emerald green. The helmet is too big for my head. Banamadr was even bigger then.

Back in the apartment, their voices are shielded in a misty cloak as Loki and my mother begin to argue. I watch, scared and sad from the kitchen. Loki crouches down, and I'm thrown into the darkness again.

Years later, Erik Fossil slaps me for hurting Leah, and Loki appears, threatening to kill him, then teaching me to be strong and to be a fighter, and that everything will be all right one day.

The first hero I ever saw was who everyone else saw as a villain.

With a snap, my eyes open again, and now, I am standing on the highest point of Fletohein, the ashes of a dead sorceress at my feet, my brother dead on a cliff fifty feet below me, and the last strings of war being played out on death's instrument.

"Thea," says Loki. He sounds almost worried. I haven't moved since my memories stopped showing themselves to me.

Slowly, I turn back to him. My grip on Kiahriah is so strong, my knuckles are white. My head is ringing. All I want to do is scream into the wind. Neidra is dead. Caomh is dead. But so are Videl and Angelique. I would rather the sorceress and her son be alive than my brother and my peace be dead along with them.

The realization that Videl is dead hits me like a stone.

I can't help it.

I fall to my knees.

Bowing my head into the rain and wind, I let out a howl, throwing Kiahriah onto the rocks, wishing it would break into a thousand fragments. Clenching my fists, I cry out again. There isn't a single tear. Just raw, infuriated, throbbing grief.

I feel Loki's hands on me, trying to pull me back into his arms, but I elbow him away and sink to the cold, wet rocks, letting the rain wash away the blood and dirt from my face.

I can't do anything but scream and scream and scream.

*

Fate threw a dagger at me. An emerald green dagger. There were two ways I could have caught it.

I could have caught it by the blade. I could have let it slice through me, could have let it own me, could have let it sink into my skin and own me.

But instead, I caught the dagger by the handle.

And sunk it into Neidra's heart.

And ended it all.