Legendary

The judge excused us for the movie portion of the trial, so we went to a room that juries used for deliberations and waited, dinking around on our communicators. I called Damian, wanting to hear the reassuring warmth of his voice. We didn't talk about the trial but he told me how things were going in the lab and we talked about normal things for a bit. Then the four of us started talking, which led to remembering some stories about our time in Valhalla. Funny and sad, they helped me to remember that there had been a lot more to our time there than labor disputes and preparing for The End. "Honestly, I'm looking forward to taking a break for Christmas," Carol said. "Thanks for inviting us for Christmas Eve, A-- I mean, Donna. I missed celebrating Yule this year." The others agreed.

"I told Alfred once that I was going to miss the celebration, so I wouldn't be surprised if there are touches in the decorating," I said thoughtfully. "But what's most important is that we spend the day--whatever religious or cultural flavor you prefer--with loved ones, knowing that the light is returning." Dagny patted my hand. Then we caught up on things; all my friends were enjoying getting to know my aunt better, which made me happy. I kind of worried about Aunt Becca. She put a good face on everything, a legacy of the Depression, but I knew that returning was difficult at times for me and I had people to talk it out with.

"I hope I'm not pinning too much on going back to school." Serena said pensively. "I kind of have it in my head that it'll be a new start, and I think that maybe I'm building it up too much in my head. I mean, I know I'm still going to have to deal with everything, it's not a completely new start. I just want to leave all this behind." I nodded.

"I feel the same," I said, moving my head around to stretch my neck and shoulders. "I just want to fit into a new normal."

"Be careful what you wish for," Dagny said, poking me. "Your normal would sometimes turn my hair white." We laughed, and Carol, accompanied by a bailiff, went to a shop a couple of doors down and brought us back milkshakes. We spent the run time of the film having a much better time than the jurors. Or Thor, for that matter. He was livid when we were brought back into the courtroom. Livid, but quite controlled. The jury looked seasonal; their faces were shades of red, white, and green, depending on how the film affected them.

The defense called Melanie Kipp to the stand. After she was sworn in and she identified herself as the photographer and filmmaker, the questions started. "What gave you the idea to go up to Asgard?"

"Well, something big was obviously going on. I was pretty flattened by the wave of fear, but I was in a restaurant near the embassy and I saw people running toward it. I was curious, so I joined the crowd. I'd just finished an assignment for film school. When I saw the Bifrost beam, I saw an opportunity to go up and see Asgard for myself. Everybody is at least slightly curious about it, and very few people get to go there." I was watching the jury; most of them cut their eyes to Thor to gauge his (nonexistent) reaction to this.

"What did you do when you got there?"

"I saw people passing out weapons and talking about Vigrior. One man gestured when he said the name, so I went outside and saw a forest by a big open meadow. I figured that's where the action was going to be, so I went and climbed a tree. There was one that had a great view of both the meadow and this isolated golden dome, linked to the land by what I've since learned is the Bifrost. I got my camera ready, put on my best lens, and waited."

The lawyer took her briefly through the shooting of the film and how she got back to Midgard (by waiting for a group of healed returnees to be returned). "Why did you decide to make this a feature-length documentary?"

"Because it's a hugely important battle, and people deserve to see what happened. The landings at Normandy were filmed, Vietnam, all the rest. This isn't substantially different."

"And why did you choose to add the sensory effects? That could be viewed as exploitative."

"I want people to see what I saw, feel what I felt. It provides a context. I think it will help them to feel like they really are there."

"Some of the plaintiffs accuse you of doing this for money. How do you respond?"

"First, my goal is to make the events on Asgard accessible to everyone. We were all affected by it, one way or another. I mean, without that prophesy, there would be no returnees. Everybody I've ever talked with felt that paralyzing fear. And the end of the world was at stake. So yeah, it's historically important. I'm sorry for trespassing, but there's the public good to think of. Second, yeah, there will most likely be profits. The plaintiffs themselves expect this documentary to be huge. But I ran big risks to get this film made, and now I have lawyers fees to pay as well. I ran the risks, I should have some reward." After a few followup questions, the lawyer sat down. Early leaned over to us.

"In case you were wondering, he limited his questioning so that the cross would be limited too. We can only ask about things that were brought up on direct." I scowled behind my mask.

Andrews got up. "So you admit you knew you were trespassing," he said.

"Yes, but--" she said.

"So you knew that what you were doing was illegal, and you've been convicted of that."

"Yes," she bit off.

"And now you're looking to make money from your illegal activities."

"Yes."

"And the trauma you're exposing people to doesn't bother you."

"I can add a trigger warning before the title card," she said. Dagny snorted. I don't think she knew what a trigger warning was exactly, but she got the gist.

"And you don't care what it's doing to veterans of that battle, who have real problems with this film. You don't care that the sovereign of the world you trespassed on has asked that you not release the film."

"Look, I understand where they're coming from, but this is just too big. There's real interest in what happened and in Asgard. People have a right to know. And you heard them. They signed up for that. I don't understand why they're making such a fuss. They've all got therapists."

"And this will make your name in film making, at least in documentaries."

"I hope so," she admitted. Kipp looked at the jury. "Look, you've seen it. It affected you. It's a good work. I deserve to be recognized for the quality of the film."

"I see," Andrews said slowly. "One final question. How do you sleep at night?"

"Objection!" snapped the defense lawyer.

"Withdrawn," Andrews murmured, with a wave of his hand.

The court was recessed until the next morning. The defense closed their case. In the morning, the lawyers would make their closing arguments, the judge would instruct the jury, and they would begin deliberations. I was hoping that this would be finished by Christmas. I was sick of the mask and tired of the whole mess.

Ms Lee got up and addressed the jury the next morning. "What a couple of days it's been, right? We've heard some very emotional testimony and seen the footage in question. I know you've taken notes about what you've heard and seen, so I'm going to be brief. The heart of this trial is whether a film that was made illegally should be released. There are competing concerns, including the right of King Thor to control access to Asgard. The defendant pointed out that other important battles in history were filmed. This is true, but what she failed to mention is that those journalists got permission from the government and military to do so. Ms Kipp exploited the battle for her own gain.

"Now, Ms Kipp has admitted that she trespassed and referenced her criminal conviction for trespass. She's admitted that she committed civil trespass. You've heard from some of the precious few valkyries who survived the battle, explaining, without an attempt to manipulate your emotions, why they are counting on you to do the right thing and keep this film from being released. Put yourselves in their place. They lived up to their promises and fought this war at a very high cost to themselves. They did not consent to being filmed, nobody did, and there was no expectation that it would or was being recorded. Against this is a woman who has stated that she did it for money and reputation. It seemed to me that public interest took a far distant third place in her motivations.

"So we've come to the end of the trial and it's getting time for your decision," she said, talking over the defense attorney, who looked like he was going to object to this characterization of his client's motives. "Do you side with the people who fought for your continued existence without the expectation or even the desire to be thanked or known? Or do you side with an opportunist? Think carefully," she said, and sat down. The defense attorney rolled his eyes and got to his feet.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the plaintiff's lawyer is correct when she says it's been an emotional few days. That's where I've got to stop agreeing with her, however. They've made this big emotionally manipulative argument, full of hearts and flowers, why this documentary should be repressed. We're not denying that the plaintiffs suffered in the battle, but by their own admission, they accepted the commission to fight it. My client didn't force them to do anything. And against the trauma of a few who are getting help for what they did, is the right of the public to know what happened, to know what could have happened if they'd failed. This historical event, ladies and gentlemen, is important, and this is probably the only way we'd ever get to hear about it, since the plaintiffs plainly aren't going be talking about it. And with respect to King Thor, he hasn't shown that he or Asgard was damaged in any way from Ms Kipp's presence.

"Now you've got to make your decision. Does everybody get the right to see what you've seen, or will you allow the film to be censored? If you say that the plaintiffs are right, the film will be destroyed. Not shelved and hidden for later generations, but destroyed. You and I and the rest of the court will be among the few who have seen it and know the truth of what happened. The only record will be lost. And you will still be bound by the gag order of the court and you won't be able to talk about what you've seen, you won't be able to leave a trace of documentation. Think of the greater good and permit the public to see this crucial battle."

He sat down. I said an obscenity in my head. That lawyer was canny. The judge took over and gave them rules for their deliberation. Andrews said afterward that in about 2050, a rule had been passed to abolish hung juries. Now they had to deliberate until they found a solution, and part of that horsetrading was that the jury would return their verdict with the penalties they agreed on. Well, we'd be getting the trespassing charge for sure, but that didn't seem like much on its own. The judge finished just after 11 am and sent the jury to deliberate.

"Nobody knows how long it will take the jury in the deliberations," the judge said. "So all parties and their lawyers are released until we receive notice that the verdict has been reached. It might not happen until after Christmas. The jury will receive that day off, after which they will reconvene if necessary. I must remind you all not to leave this planet until the verdict has been read." So we were dismissed, and we left the courtroom stoically.

Serena and I went over to Columbia to acquaint ourselves with the campus and kind of just unwind, remind us that we had a lot to look forward to. We stopped in at the bookstores, purchased electronic or printed copies of our textbooks. and loaded up on other learners' stuff, like programs for 3D rendering of projects, and a speech to text program to help us take notes. We bought university sweatshirts while we were there too.

"This is sure different from the bags of books and notebook paper I remember from the last time I was in college," she said to me as we left, happy with our acquisitions. We'd found that we had an overlapping class, the first course in the architecture program.

"I kind of miss it," I said, laughing. "You had a lot of tangible evidence of what you'd spent your money on." She laughed too. We had lunch on campus, then separated. I went to the tower in good time to put the hurt on some slightly less snotty Avengers, and finally met the famous (or notorious, depended on your viewpoint) Nick Fury. Very attractive. He refused to get his eye replaced or fixed using modern medical technology, adding a certain je ne sais quoi to his rakish appearance. Steve was watching. He actually had popcorn as he watched the Avengers go down. Tony came down toward the end and stole some popcorn before ordering the Avengers upstairs to class.

"How'd it go, sweetie?" Bucky asked, handing me a bottle of water.

"I think we're screwed," I said moodily. "The lawyer gave them feel-good reasons that they could use to justify releasing the movie without feeling like they screwed us over." I growled in frustration.

"Well, you got the opportunity to show them the right decision," Tony said practically. "That's all you can do." He threw me a towel. "The algae are doing great, by the way, even without your tender care." I snapped the towel at him. He laughed and went to torment some superheroes.

"I've got to go too," Steve said brightly. "We're doing trust exercises." Then he surprised me by cackling. "We did that one where somebody falls and everybody else catches them. They didn't know the exercise and the kid went splat." I started to laugh and he grinned at me. "So we've got some work to do. We'll see you Christmas Eve, Alex."

"Oh, Uncle Steve, I was wondering if you and Emma would mind taking Eira home with Torburn and Sigurd after Christmas Eve for a couple of days? I think she misses them specifically, and other dogs like them in general. I can't leave the planet until after the case has been decided."

Steve smiled at me. "Be happy too. The boys like having a little sister around." He gave me a hug--almost but not quite as good as a Flannel Special--and left.

Bucky and I took time for some hand to hand practice, which we hadn't done for ages, and it showed. It diverted my attention and lessened the frustration I had with the case. Then Hawkeye showed up and offered to shoot with me. Bucky gave me a big hug--no flannel, he was still in his workout clothes, but it was still an awesome hug--and I trotted after Hawkeye. He had a brand new bow, customized to his draw, looking deadly and sleek but still graceful. I found a bow and selected a thigh quiver with green-fletched arrows. I put up the target he handed me--it was much bigger than the one he was using-- and we stood on the firing line. I enjoyed the opportunity to relax and narrow my focus to two small gold rings. We shot for about an hour before I called it quits.

"You should get your own bow and keep it here," Hawkeye told me. "You could get a lot better, maybe pick up competition archery." I was interested, so he gave me the names of a couple of equipment suppliers he recommended.

When I got home, it was snowing again and I flicked on the fireplace before sorting and opening my mail. All this time and there was still junk mail. I shook my head and slit open an envelope addressed to me and Damian. It was from the Smithsonian, Dr Matthews, the curator we'd met when we visited. It was the formal request to have a special exhibit of my jewelry. Since they had pretty much everything I'd owned, it was a simple matter to put it together. They wanted us to come down to have a few photos taken of us now; each piece that was selected would be put into a context with a photograph or other accessories, if I had them. Dresses that I wore, if I still had them. And they wanted to borrow my wedding ring since they wanted to open the exhibit on Valentine's Day. I shook my head again. With all the fuss over Bruce, Damian, and Alexander's poor decision making and Ragnarok, I'd completely forgotten that they'd mentioned a special display. I set aside the letter for Damian to read. That reminded me; I double-checked my dress and shoes, the double strand of pearls and the matching pearl earrings I was going to wear for the vow renewal. I wanted to make sure I had everything. I didn't. I needed hose for the polished look I wanted. I'd have to hit the store tomorrow. I had Damian's new ring with my jewelry as well as a new set of shirt studs and cufflinks; white gold set with moonstones. I grinned. Perfect for a nightcrawling superhero of a husband. We'd also gotten Alfred a thank you gift.

What do you get your butler/family retainer who is also a second father and one of the most capable, trustworthy people on the planet? That's a hard call, because there really isn't anything to express how highly Damian and I regard him. We had to settle for something small that he could be persuaded to accept and came up with custom made cufflinks, platinum, oval, with a ring of polished black onyx around the outside and luscious dark red star garnets on the inside. It had been a bugger to find the right color garnet with center-oriented stars, and two of them to boot. We might have had to go with a faceted stone instead. But we'd wanted something unique, memorable, and subtle for the man who probably was in the dictionary as a synonym for all those qualities.

Damian came home with carryout and Eira, both of them shaking the snow off before coming to join me in the living room. Eira immediately flopped down in front of the fire. Damian pulled me up, gave me a hello kiss that curled my toes, and we ate our dinner. After drying off, Eira had a bite too, and we all reconvened in front of the fire.

"We need to make sure that there are plenty of fireplaces in our new house," I said, snuggling up to Damian.

"Big fireplaces," he amended. "So that when Eira is laying in front of it there's still warmth that can get around her." Eira opened one baleful eye to look at Damian, then rolled over, pointedly, to get her tummy warm.

We talked a little about our days, minus the trial, and I handed him the letter from Dr Matthews. He read it and we discussed the proposal. We agreed that it was a shame for the pretty things to be locked away where nobody could see them and decided to go along with it. I had a few favorite pieces that I would like to be included, and Damian said he'd go through the family archives to see if he could find pictures or other ephemera for the context of each piece. "I don't have a lot of the dresses," I said. "I borrowed most of them, but that red and fuschia one I wore to the New Year's Eve party after we were engaged is up in the attic. Those earrings are spectacular."

Damian said he'd call the curator the next day, then groaned. "I forgot to tell you. The bakery called, there was some sort of disaster that started with a pissed off baker and ended in the destruction of several cakes in progress. Ours was one of them. There isn't time to get the flowers made again, but they said they'd come up with something good to replace it, and they'll work with Alfred to coordinate the delivery."

"Didn't that happen last time?" I asked. "There seems to be a conspiracy to prevent us from having the cakes we want. But I'm sure it'll be ok, even if it's a little plain. The cake itself is delicious." We left Eira to enjoy the fire in the living room and went to the bedroom, where I flicked on the fire there. Damian gave me a full body massage that squeezed the tension caused by the trial out of my muscles.

"I'll be grateful when we get the verdict, one way or another," I mumbled as his skilled hands gently but firmly relaxed me.

"I will too, Petal. I just want you to be able to move forward. The plans for your life are going to be spectacular," he said, and I smiled slightly.

"With you by my side, I think I can handle anything," I said, and blew a kiss at him. I was too relaxed to do anything else. And just because he's a complete and utter peach, he had me extend my wings, gently massaging the muscles there and in my back, stroking the sails of the wings. It felt really good to have them out, even better to have Damian gently pet the feathers like it wasn't weird at all for his wife to have them.

There was no verdict on the 22nd.

Or the 23rd.

Lee messaged me that the jury had a half day on the 24th. That was fine with me; that afternoon I could primp to my heart's content that afternoon without worrying about bad news from the jury. And I did primp; after helping my uncle at the tower, I showered, went to have a massage, (more professional, less caring, no wings), then had my hair and nails done. I held off on having makeup done until the last second, then went home in the early dusk to get dressed. New lingerie went on under the pretty dress, and I slipped my feet into the matching satin pumps. Damian caught me twisting from the hips, watching the moderately fluffy skirt sway.

"My glorious wife," he said, putting his arms around me carefully and kissing the back of my neck before letting me go reluctantly and clasping my pearls around my neck. Our presents were already under the tree at the mansion, so all we needed to bring was Eira, ourselves, our rings (I had Damian's new one securely in my pocket), and the cufflinks for Alfred, which we would give him in private.

"Damn," I said, looking at him. He always looks so handsome, but evening dress looks even better on him than his skin tight Nightfall costume. I rummaged around in my drawer and handed a box to my puzzled husband. I'd forgotten to give him his cufflinks and shirt studs.

"Ooh, Alex, my sweet," he said, tipping the box and watching the light catch in the moonstones. He'd been wearing his usual onyx set, but immediately pulled them out of his cuffs and shirt front, and I helped with the new ones.

"You usually don't let me buy you anything snappy," I said. "But I thought you couldn't refuse such a special occasion."

"We don't go out much anymore," he said, stroking the shirt studs as I placed the cufflinks in his French cuffs. "That should change though. I look magnificent, and I have the most beautiful woman in the city on my arm." I laughed, and he grinned, producing a small box. I rolled my eyes. "It's a special occasion, Sweet pea," he protested. I had to concede that, and opened the box to see little lacy white gold snowflake earrings, the points of each arm of the snow flake and each center set with tiny diamonds.

"Oh, so pretty!" I said, and immediately swapped the single pearls for the dainty earrings. Damian grinned, kissed me lightly, and draped a wrap over my shoulders before Eira joined us on the way out. She was dressed up too; Damian had taken her to the groomers, where she was instantly adored by the staff, washed, blown dry, had her nails trimmed professionally, and a deep green satin bow tied around her neck in lieu of a collar. She liked being the center of attention, and I promised her we'd make it a regular thing. When we got to the sidewalk, Damian picked me up and carried me the few steps to the car so the melting snow wouldn't stain my shoes, tucking me in carefully before going around to the other side. Eira snuggled into her blankie in the back, and we drove to a launching pad so that we could use the flight capabilities and get to the mansion in good time. We still had a few things to check with Alfred on, and wanted to do it before everybody assembled for the festivities.