Prologue
Sometimes, when the light hits just right, Asgard explodes into a world of colour. It all depends on where you’re sitting, and how you look at things. If you’re willing to see it then the gold will turn into a thousand shades of violet, crimson and ivory. Sigrid never understood how this worked, she still doesn’t. She only remembers what her queen would say. Light and colours, like magic, are fickle things. They cannot be controlled, they cannot be explained and they can never be understood. It was vague, as always. Frigga seemed to like to speak in riddles. When Sigrid was told that she had only been a few hundred years old, that had been centuries ago. Yet she still remembered it so clearly.
She had been in the queen’s private study, in the west wing of The Royal Palace of Valaskjalf. That was where they had had their classes, just the three of them. Sigrid and her favourite people in the world. The two princes. Thor and Loki.It had been just the three of them in the palace. They had all grown up in Odin’s court. What with Thor and Loki being his sons and Sigrid being the daughter of the king’s chief advisor. It had been so simple back then, when it had been just the three of them. Their trio. Sigrid had been the leader, always leading them into some new form of adventure, or trouble. Thor was the muscle, older than both the others and much stronger, perfect for breaking down doors to rooms they weren’t supposed to be in. Then there was Loki. He was the brain. Even back then he was ambitious, full of mischief. Constantly daring his brother to try to steal some ancient object, then he’d stab Thor in the back and run away with the item laughing. It had been fun back then, when Loki would always come back. He didn’t do that much anymore.
Sigrid’s youth wasn’t very difficult. Study with Frigga, play with Thor and Loki, do it all again the next day. Soon enough things became more complicated. Thor was older than the other two, he was also heir to Asgard. He didn’t have much time to play anymore. He was always off with Odin, learning how to rule. He would come back for a bit, until all of the sudden he didn’t. Thor had made himself into the leader of a new group, his band of warriors. Loki was replaced by the Warriors Three, Sigrid by Lady Sif. Though Sigrid didn’t completely mind that Thor was rarely on Asgard. She had loved him like a brother but had always gravitated towards the second son. It was around that time that her powers had started to manifest.
Frigga had noticed the signs first. The small outburst of power, the way Sigrid could almost make people see what she was thinking, the silvery-blue energy that radiated off of her. Frigga had noticed similar things about her younger son a few months before. The queen immediately brought Sigrid into the private lessons she had been giving Loki. Sigrid was so confused at first, not many Asgardians were gifted with magic. Sigrid could name no one but her king and queen and now, apparently Loki. Not even Thor had the gift, though he did have a hammer. Sigrid couldn’t understand where she had inherited this from. She had only ever known her father, Tyr, and though he was a very powerful war god, he possessed no kind of magic.
“It must have come from your mother then.” Loki had said one day.
“I don’t know my mother.” Sigrid told him.
It didn’t matter in the end. Magic was as natural as war to Sigrid. It flowed through her blood, manifesting in silvery-blues. While Loki’s powers were a true green. As the years went on, and their powers grew, Sigrid started to look at Loki differently. He was different now too. He was taller than her now, which she found dreadfully annoying, with jet black hair and blueish green eyes that suited his high cheekbones. He was powerful too, more than Sigrid, though she was better with a sword. He could do so much, it was amazing. She loved more than anything to hear him talk of his plans, his ambitions, her place in the world he wanted to create. He was her best friend, maybe he could have been more if not for Odin.
After years of training Odin pulled her out of her classes. It worried the king how close she was with Loki. Odin had started to notice his son’s behaviour change, his envy expanding every day along with his powers. Odin didn’t want Loki to pull Sigrid down his doomed path. Sigrid was sent off world to join Thor’s warriors. Thanks to her father, she had grown into a master swordsman, fighting with two blades. Sigrid didn’t want to go, but she would never betray her king. She left one night, leaving Loki without so much as a goodbye. She found her place with Thor’s troupe. Became Thor’s right hand, just as her father had been for Odin. Loyal to the bone to Asgard and her future king, Sigrid tried to forget the second son. Tried and failed. Green smoke haunted her dreams, a devilish grin burned into her mind. She never spoke to Loki, but she still had eyes. She saw the ghost of a man he had become, hunger for something fueling him. He was a stranger now. And would remain to be until Thor disappeared.
~
Liv used to think the world was a kind place. Long ago, when she’d been loved by her parents, her friends, her godfather Tony Stark. Before she’d seen death and destruction, before she’d caused it. Liv knew now how wrong she’d been. All those notions of greatness were but simple lies she’d been fed. Lies that she had believed. The truth of the matter was that all she’d ever be was a killer. A hired gun. Someone who’s only instinct was to burn everything down. She took a swig from her flask, letting the vodka fill her body with a warm, fuzzy, feeling, like a mother’s hug. She tossed another HYDRA file into the pile of papers, watching the crumpled ball roll to a stop.
Every fibre in her body wanted to spark, erupt, burn and she stared and the heap of memories. Memories of Project 2012, of пламя, of дочь смерти. The Daughter of Death. The men of HYDRA had given her that name, when they plucked her up for the street, an angry little girl, and turned her into their weapon. Killed her sister just so that they could control Liv’s extraordinary abilities.
Maybe if she hadn’t been so reckless, shown her flame, maybe Kaitlyn would be alive. Liv shook her head, downing another gulp of vodka. She had promised herself she wouldn’t think like that, wouldn’t let herself fall down that rabbit hole again. It had been HYDRA’s fault. They had brainwashed her, twisted her mind, broken her beyond repair. They had trained her, tweaked her, perfected her. Liv could handle every weapon known to man, as well as turn anything around her, including her own body, her own powers, her own mind, into a weapon.
“We’ll make you the best.” They’d said “We’ll help you get revenge.”
All they’d done for her was break her heart again and again until she’d gotten rid of it. And she’d been very, very, good at being heartless. She’d listened to orders and killed ruthlessly, not caring who she had to end to reach her goal. She did very bad things and she did them very well. For every scar on her body, there were three times as many bodies in the ground.
And it hurt.
It hurt to know she had caused all this pain and suffering.
It hurt to know how easily she had been manipulated.
But Liv was never very good at hurting.
So instead she replaced it with anger.
Red, hot, burning anger.
Liv poured the remaining vodka over the pile, making sure to thoroughly soak each sheet and unraveled the last piece of paper. She smoothed out the wrinkles and quickly scanned the page. It was a news story from October 2, 1994. The headline read:
Stark Industries Scientists Katiya Stark and Ewan Caroll Killed in Lab Accident, Daughter Liv Caroll One of Many Dead
Liv clenched her jaw as she carefully folded the paper and held it out. She lifted her right hand, watching as her pointer finger burst into flames, bright, entrancing, deadly. She watched the flame grow stronger at her command and touched it to the article, which immediately lit on fire. The paper curled as it burned, slowly turning a dark charcoal.
Liv tossed it into the pile, watching as it erupted in a roaring blaze of orange, red and yellow. She could feel it’s energy, it’s power, as it slowly devoured it’s prey. Leaning down, she popped open a second bottle of vodka, taking a swig and watching the fire.
Let it burn she thought Let it all burn