Chapter 69: Malekith
A/N: Alas, the stars did not align for this to be a smutty chapter. Instead, we get Malekith POV as he assails Asgard. Surely this will go well for him!
-x-X-x-
“My Lord, the enemy has yet to detect our Harrows. The Ark approaches Asgard.”
Standing on the bridge of his people’s last remaining ship, Malekith, Ruler of the Dark Elves, considers the situation for a long moment before giving the order.
“Advance.”
Unfortunately, there was no way for him to stay in contact with Algrim once his Lieutenant had been taken into Asgardian Custody. His spies were able to confirm that Algrim had been apprehended alive with the rest of the raiders and transferred to the Asgardian Dungeons, but that was the extent of their penetration into Asgard itself.
Until now. Malekith would just have to hope that Algrim would pull through. His Lieutenant had taken the last of their Kurse Stones with him, and once he used it Malekith fully believed there was nothing and no one that would be able to stand in Algrim’s way.
Eyes fixed in the direction of the Aether, able to feel it’s power even from here, Malekith breathes in deeply as the Ark begins its slow advance towards the edge of Asgard. The Harrows lead the way of course and both the smaller ships and the Ark itself remain hidden from Asgardian eyes. They remain undetected.
Five thousand years. For five thousand years, Malekith has waited for this moment. Too long by far. Too long since he had been separated from the Aether, from his creation. No one understood what Malekith had done when he’d taken an Infinity Stone and transformed it, molded it, and remade it into his own personal weapon. No one understood what he’d sacrificed in turning the Reality Stone into the Aether.
But now… now he had another chance. The Convergence had begun once more, and once he obtained the Aether, he could use it and the Convergence to unleash the full power of his creation upon the universe. To destroy the accursed Light and all living things who depended on it, and to once more shroud the universe in Blessed Darkness.
It was fitting that the Asgardians had no idea they were coming. Fitting that they wouldn’t realize anything was wrong until it was-
“My Lord! The Asgardians are raising defenses!”
Malekith’s eyes narrow. The Ark has just passed into the waters surrounding Asgard. The Harrows have moved forward carefully, fanning out and leaning on their stealth for as long as they possibly could, seeing no reaction to their approach. But now, all of a sudden, a golden dome was covering the Asgardian Palace.
They’d been detected after all.
“Drop stealth! Advance in full! Algrim shall create a hole for us!”
“Yes my Lord!”
His orders are carried out without hesitation. Those that remain of his people are few, but battle-hardened one and all. The last of the Dark Elves, the Alfeneel, in all of existence. None of them will falter. None of them will hesitate to fight. These warriors, each and every one of them, know that this is their final chance to save their people, to save the universe from eternal damnation in the Light.
The Ark surges forward as it drops stealth and reveals itself in all its glory to the defenders of Asgard. Meanwhile, the Harrows also drop any attempts at subterfuge, winging forward to do battle with Asgard’s defenses as turrets fire at them from throughout the city.
The golden dome covering the Palace goes into place, but Malekith isn’t worried. Algrim will come through. He believes that, completely and utterly. His Lieutenant will not fail him. The defenses will fall and the Aether will be his.
“My Lord! Behind us!”
Malekith’s eyes widen and he moves from his position down to the console, to see what his helmsman is seeing. There, coming up from the underside of Asgard where they’d been lying in wait… is a fleet of Asgardian Ships, attacking them from behind and cutting off their escape. Malekith snarls as he sees this.
A trap! They didn’t just detect their approach… they knew they were coming. It was impossible unless… but no! Algrim would never betray them! How then? How had Asgard found out about their attack ahead of time?!
“Ignore them! FORWARD!”
Even as the Asgardians fire on the Ark from behind, it continues moving deeper into enemy territory. The shields hold for the time being, though they cannot last against this bombardment forever. Malekith doesn’t care. If he can retrieve the Aether, he will have the power to lay waste to Asgard, right here and right now. Its army, its people, the place itself. None will be able to stand against his might so long as he retrieves the Aether.
Some of the Harrows are forced to peel off of the attack on the city to run defense for the Ark. Malekith listens as reports of losses begin to come in from the others on the bridge. They’re holding their own, showing just how weak and pathetic Asgard has come in the last five thousand years. Imagine not being able to wipe out a single Ark and a couple dozen Harrows when five millennia ago, Asgard’s forces had been capable of destroying hundreds of Arks and thousands of Harrows.
Scoffing, Malekith keeps his eye on the prize. He can feel the Aether’s presence in another being, deep within Asgard’s Palace. Hidden away behind that golden shield. All they need is for Algrim to do his part and disable the defenses from within. All they needed was-
“My Lord! The losses of our Harrows are mounting! Only fifty percent remain! As well, the shields on the Ark have just dropped below thirty percent power!”
Algrim wasn’t going to succeed. Whether he’d been found out and killed already, or simply waylaid on his way to his goal… Malekith is finally forced to accept that the shield isn’t coming down. Not from inside sabotage anyways.
They can’t retreat now though. They’ve already overcommitted. And besides, even if they were to manage to escape… what would be the point? The Convergence was already nearing its apex. All Asgard would have to do is stay on high alert for a few more days and it would be another five thousand years before Malekith could make another attempt.
No. No, he refused to fail here. So close to his goal. This was supposed to be his second chance. This was supposed to be their opportunity to fix the mistakes of the past and finally bring back the Blessed Darkness to the universe.
“Divert all power from shields to engines! Ram the palace!”
“My Lord?”
“Algrim has failed! The shield will not fall by his hands! We must make it fall ourselves!”
“As you say, my Lord!”
To their credit, none hesitate any further to carry out his Will. The Ark surges towards the golden dome covering the Asgardian Palace. The last of their Harrows defend their backs from Asgard’s ships as they plunge ahead. And finally… contact.
Malekith has to grab onto the nearest console to keep from being flung as the Ark slams into the Palace Shield. The entire ship grinds. But… but it’s not enough. With a snarl, he pushes off the console and over to a nearby armory cubby. Grabbing a bandolier of Black Hole Grenades, Malekith stomps his way towards the Ark’s central viewing power, which even now is beginning to spider-web and crack under the pressure of the shields.
He primes each grenade one by one as the cracks spread, and right at the moment where the glass gives up to the shield, shattering… Malekith throws the entire bandolier.
The grenades go off as they land against the Palace Shields and the multitude of Black Hole effects comes into contact with Asgard’s shimmering defenses. Finally… a hole.
“WITH ME!”
It might not be the surprise attack he wanted, but he and his followers leap through the hole all the same, landing on a Palace Balcony.
Palace Guards move to stop them of course, but they are slow and weak, having gotten fat and lazy on their own superiority. Their overconfidence in their defensives means that their reaction time is utterly pathetic.
Still… there’s not many Dark Elves at his back. Certainly not as many as he’d hoped. None of the Harrows, each filled with dozens of hardened warriors, have made it inside. Malekith himself had hoped to join one of the Harrows once Algrim had lowered the defenses, but now it seems he made the right call by staying on the bridge of the Ark as long as he did.
Unfortunately, this does mean that he only has the bridge crew with him as they fight their way into the Palace. Each of them is well-armed and armored, with weapons and gear aplenty to be scavenged from their destroyed world. But they are not necessarily the cream of the crop when it comes to battle. Their skills lay elsewhere.
Malekith appreciates them all the same, even as they fall one by one in battle. Fighting his way through the corridors without their assistance and without the Aether, would have been impossible. It’s only thanks to their sacrifice that he’s finally able to make it to where he can feel the Aether’s presence. Pushing his way into Asgard’s throne room, he comes face to face with a most curious sight… a Midgardian.
“Hey there.”
Malekith narrows his eyes at the Midgardian, but he has no time or patience for dallying. The Aether is right in front of him, within his grasp.
“You have something of mine. Give it to me.”
Even as he speaks, he wastes no time. His hand comes up and reaches for the Aether, for his creation, and begins to pull.
“Urk! Hoo boy… fuck that smarts. But honestly… trying to lay claim to an Infinity Stone? Seems like you’ve got something of a god complex, don’t you? Don’t worry, I do too.”
What? Malekith, for the first time since waking up, is truly shocked and stymied. Because… the Aether is sluggish to respond to his commands. HIM! It’s creator! It’s one true wielder! He had crafted the Aether as a weapon of immense power from the Reality Stone itself! He was the only one who had ever been able to use it to its full extent! And now this… this Midgardian dared to resist him?!
“The Aether is mine by Rite of Creation, Midgardian! I crafted it from the stone myself! Cease this resistance and hand it over at once!”
It was the Midgardian who was fighting him, Malekith finally realizes. With a snarl, he pulls free his sword and stomps forward, all while maintaining his hold on the Aether with his other hand as well as all of his mental focus. Under the strain, the Midgardian crumples to one knee and then the other, groaning. Not just with his lips… but with his body as well. What IS this Midgardian? Why does it feel like he’s trying to pull the Aether through metal instead of mere flesh and bone?!
“C-Crafted it… huh? Didn’t… hah, didn’t know that. Still… can’t let you have it. Sorry but… it likes me more.”
Ridiculous! Malekith was it’s Master and Creator. It wasn’t a matter of ‘like’, though now that the Midgardian mentioned it, he could feel that part of the Aether’s resistance WAS because it felt it had found a better host than him. What ludicrous nonsense was this?! No matter!
“It matters not what you or the Aether desires, Midgardian. As you can see, you cannot even stand in my presence. Did you think you could defeat me in this contest? I, who know the Aether inside and out? Utter foolishness!”
Finally reaching the kneeling Midgardian, Malekith raises his sword, preparing to end the irritation’s life so that he can reclaim the Aether with more expediency. Far from looking afraid however, the Midgardian just grins up at him, speaking through clenched, chattering teeth.
“Yeah… nah… didn’t, heh, didn’t think that for a second. That’s why I was just the b-bait.”
Before Malekith can react, something demonstrably strong grabs onto his wrist and squeezes hard enough to shatter the bones in his sword arm. At the same time, the cloaked enemy reveals itself, a metal suit of armor with glowing bright eyes.
“You will not harm the Creator.”
And then…
Pain. Malekith’s eyes widen and he roars in agony as he’s speared through the leg from behind. At the same time, a hammer slams into his back before shocking him with electricity, spinning him away from the Midgardian and throwing him into a nearby wall.
His focus torn away from the Midgardian, Malekith scrambles to his feet, even as he finds himself being waylaid by a blond Asgardian dressed like royalty. Swinging a hammer in one hand, he stomps forward even as an older Asgardian watches not one but two of the metal armors help the Midgardian to his feet. Seeing the bloodied spear in the older Asgardian’s hands, Malekith understands immediately who he is. Gungnir’s presence could only mean he faces the King of Asgard… and his son.
The Prince arrives before Malekith can enjoy the symmetry of the moment, let alone properly recover, swinging his hammer again and tossing him down the length of the hall, right up against the stairs of the throne room. Hacking, feeling the blood pooling in his mouth and lungs already, Malekith tries one last time to reach for the Aether. Unfortunately, it responds no easier to his call than before. The Midgardian holds to it tightly.
In a battle of wills where Malekith had all the time in the world, he would win, always. He would reclaim the Aether and he would use it along with the Convergence to finally save his people and the universe from the accursed light.
This was not a world where he had that time, however. Seeing him trying to take the Aether again enrages the blond Prince of Asgard, and Malekith finds himself grabbed and lifted up with one hand, before being thrown up into the air towards the throne room’s ceiling. As he’s tossed, the Asgardian Prince swings his hammer and then throws it, centered on Malekith’s face.
The last thing that the Dark Elf Ruler hears before the end is the Asgardian King call out to his son.
“Thor, no!”
Why? Malekith doesn’t know. The anguish in the King of Asgard’s voice is very real though and that, at least, the Dark Elf takes with him as one final moment of solace as he meets his end.
-x-X-x-
Mjolnir slams into the Dark Elf’s chest with a sickening crunch and then keeps going, propelling the body into the frescoes that cover the ceiling of the throne room. Thor winces as the artwork depicting the last thousand years of his and Loki’s lives and the peace and prosperity of Asgard are struck. He hadn’t intended to accidentally destroy them, to be fair.
That said, even as the rubble falls down from the ceiling along with the Dark Elf’s body, Thor can’t help but turn a furrowed brow in his father’s direction. Odin had sounded a lot more distraught than Thor would have expected over just some paintings. They could always be repaired, after all.
“Father? I apologize but surely they can be replaced. It is just artwork at the end of the… day.”
Thor gestures with his hand up towards the destroyed ceiling as he speaks, glancing up one more time as well to check on how bad the damage really is. Which is of course when he sees what his errant act of destruction has revealed. He’d never known the art on the ceiling was made to cover up something else. And the longer he stares at what’s been exposed… the more questions he finds himself with.
“Father? What… what is this?”
-x-X-x-
A/N: So yeah, Malekith would have been Tony's worst nightmare if he actually fought him one on one, but Tony isn't an idiot.
Meanwhile... Odin has some 'splaining to do.