Light Bringer

Thor/Avengers Fanfiction. Set post Avengers Assemble.

Loki was imprisoned upon his return to Asgaard. Thor stands a daily vigil by his brother’s cage, only to leave heartbroken each evening when the God of Mischief elects to remain silent.
The people of Asgaard cry out for Loki’s punishment and Heimdall tells Odin that the people of Midgaard do the same.
The Allfather seeks the help of Synneva, an Asgaardian who was stranded on Midgaard when the Bifrost was destroyed.

Rated Yellow for safety.

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2. Voluntary Exile

The apartment she rented was small and generic-looking; cream coloured paint flaked from the walls in places and damp clung to the ceiling in both the bathroom and the kitchen.

Synneva could have dealt with the flaking paint and mildew, no problem, but there was always something that stopped her, always that niggling feeling in the back of her mind telling her that if she did anything to improve her tiny living space then that would be it and she would be stuck on Midgaard forever. 
The Asgaardian was well aware it was little more than superstition keeping her from waving her hand across the affected areas and banishing the imperfections, but she still couldn’t bring herself to tempt fate.
In truth, she missed her home, her little villa on the city outskirts. She missed the sight of the palace in the distance, the tranquillity of the surrounding area, the people…her people. 
On more than one occasion, she had wondered whether she had been missed by anyone. She had gotten to know the palace quite well in her duties on Asgaard and had spoken with both Odin and Frigga many times. Synneva found it difficult to believe that, even with the sheer multitude of his subjects, the Allfather would forget about her completely. After all, he had personally condoned her request to visit the realm of Midgaard and only after a lengthy discussion, had he given her permission. 
Odin had also personally escorted her to the Bifrost and she had bid both him and Heimdall a fond farewell. 
The gatekeeper had told her he would watch for her and that she need only call his name if she wished to return ahead of schedule.
It sent a shiver down Synneva’s spine to think on Heimdall’s last words to her. She had tried to call him, but had received no reply. After her incessant attempts at reaching the gatekeeper had all gone unanswered, she had resigned herself to the fact that something horrible must have happened in Asgaard. 
Eventually however, Synneva realised that mourning her home was futile. Especially, when she didn’t possess all the facts. 
So, she decided to assimilate. She rented an apartment, filled it with the things a human might expect to see if they entered and did her best to blend in. She had learned, early on, that her clothing was out-of-sorts with that of the locals and had had to source other attire so as not to attract unwanted attention. 
Synneva had even made friends with some of the other residents of the building. Her favourite person to talk to was an elderly lady named Gwendoline East, who lived down the hall from her. Gwendoline, was a sickly sweet woman with a penchant for baking cakes and recounting her life story. Synneva had learned a lot about the history of Midgaard merely from listening to Gwendoline. 
When she wasn’t talking to Mrs. East or studying the behaviour of the other residents in the apartment building, Synneva ploughed through the internet and newspapers for anything that might explain why she had been stranded. 
She had unearthed a news story about a small town in New Mexico having nearly been destroyed by a tornado or, as the reporter put it, ‘A devastating Act of God.’ 
Needless to say, this peaked Synneva’s interest and she had gone to investigate. 
The asgaardian had not stayed longer than a night however, gathering information made difficult by the humans’ reluctance to talk about the matter, not to mention, the constant presence of a large number of men and women in smart black suits milling around the research base of a woman whose name she learned was Jane Foster. 
The suits had eyed her suspiciously when she had gotten too close to the building and, as a result, Synneva elected it was a dead end in her investigation and had left the town of Puerte Antigua. After all realising that she really had no desire to be abducted and experimented on for the rest of her life (her recent acquisition of the internet had instilled in her the knowledge that that was what Migaardians did to those who came from elsewhere in the universe.).
The following months had passed without event and it was quite by accident that she had found out about a research facility collapsing in on itself and sinking into the ground, though any news related to the how and why was unhelpfully vague. 
By the time Synneva caught on to the invasion of so-called ‘aliens’ in New York, it had been too late to get to the city before the crisis had ended. She felt compelled to visit though, arriving in the aftermath as the city was rebuilding. It was easier to blend in in New York and acting like a tourist meant that she could gather information easily from the inhabitants, clearly excited about the whole event and eager to offer their own opinions on the matter of aliens. 
A glimmer of hope came in the peppering of a particular photograph across all forms of the media. Amongst the images of various members of a group naming themselves the Avengers, settled a portrait photograph of a familiar looking blonde-haired, blue-eyed man. 
Synneva didn’t need to conduct any research to confirm the blonde man was Thor, but continued reading also found that the invasion had had something to do with a villain named Loki, whom the humans seemed to know little about. 
This revelation sent a shock of betrayal and despair through the asgaardian’s form. They had had the means to come to Midgaard and return home again, but had left her behind. She wouldn’t have expected Thor to ignore the promise of a battle just to come and look for her - he was a warrior, after all - but time had passed since the chaos and, still, no one had come for her. 
With a heavy heart, Synneva had returned to her apartment and contemplated the reality of her being stuck on Midgaard for the rest of her life. 
The reality of it all was, by no means, perfect and, truthfully, Synneva was tired of feeling trapped. She missed her home and the freedom that came with being amongst her own people on Asgaard, no longer having to hide or be wary of how she acted or what she said. 
With a resigned sigh, Synneva pushed the door to her apartment closed and dropped the satchel bag from her shoulder, letting it fall to the floor with a dull thud.
A vague wave of her hand bid the lights flicker into life and she stood beneath the archway leading to the kitchen, hands on hips and another sigh escaping her lips. Subconsciously, her gaze found the damp patch on the ceiling above her refrigerator.  With a shake of her head, Synneva outstretched a palm in the direction of the stain. It took little effort to remove the pock-marking of black mould amidst the rings of a sepia hue.
Once content with the result, the stranded asgaardian made her way through to the bathroom, figuring that she may as well make the best of the situation. 
After all, it was likely that she would be living in the apartment for a long while yet.

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