FENRIR ※ Tony Stark [2]

12 - THE FALL

➾ Asgard, Many Years Ago

Angrboda could tell something was wrong the second she stepped into Fenrir's room that morning. It had been a soundless night, the first in a long time. He hadn't woken up once and although she should've been glad, it was also a little worrying.

Fenrir was still sick, but he was showing signs of getting better. After the incident during his last Warging episode, he had gone into some sort of trance-like state, not speaking much, barely eating; but at least he was recovering which was all she could hope for.

Angrboda had tried to get him to open up about what happened. She tried to tell him it was okay, that she didn't blame him; but every time the child would burst into tears. It was impossible to talk to him while he was in that state.

As if destiny decided to be especially harsh that morning, her freshly bandaged wounds were burning horribly, like a cruel priming for what was about to happen next.

Pain shot up every time she breathed, every time she moved and with every step she took. Regardless, she was determined to keep a straight face in front of her brother, if only to avoid another outburst.

Angrboda grit her teeth and pushed the door of Fenrir's room. Her senses perked up, finding his bed completely empty. The sheets were cold and the bathroom also deserted.

She called out his name. Nothing.

It didn't take long for the worry to start creeping in. She searched the entire wing of the palace, desperately calling for her little brother but he was nowhere to be found.

Soon enough, worry made way for panic. As much as she hated to admit it, Fenrir was dangerous. Regardless of whether he meant to or not, he was more than capable of hurting people. After all, she had seen it first hand.

She rushed to call Thor and Loki but they weren't in their quarters. She ended up finding Thor in the banquet hall, along with Lady Sif, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg — also known as the Warriors Three.

All five of them were sprawled around the benches like a horde of walruses. It wasn't even noon and she could tell they had already drunk themselves to oblivion — then again, when did they not?

"Thor!" she called out "I need your help!"

The urgency was clear in her tone and yet, the prince of Asgard didn't seem fazed in the slightest. The others barely even acknowledged her presence and simply laughed her off when she begged them to help find Fenrir.

It usually didn't take much for Angrboda's irritation to spike. So far she had remained spectacularly calm considering the circumstances; but this was the last straw.

She snatched the pint of beer that Volstagg was about to gulp down and threw it angrily at a nearby wall. The shrill sound of broken glass made their laughter come to an abrupt end. Volstagg himself was staring completely stunned, his palm still hanging in mid air where the glass had been a second ago.

Before he knew it, she walked over to Thor and kicked the legs of his chair. He was too intoxicated to react and lost balance, falling over like a sack of rocks.

"Get up, you sorry excuse for a prince," she spat "Fenrir has disappeared, you all know how dangerous he can be. Get up and help me find him!"

Thor opened his mouth to speak but he was cut off by the doors of the banquet hall bursting open, making all their attentions turn to the newcomer. Loki.

"Fenrir is gone!" he exclaimed in panic, still catching his breath. His gaze landed on Angrboda and his brother on the floor. A curious frown melted on his face but there wasn't time to ask what he'd missed.