Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Captain. Captain Lars?"

A heavy gloved hand paws blindly at the disturbance. "Five more minutes..."

Rhodonite, however nervously her four eyes flit, stays insistent. "I know you need your... 'sleeping time', but this is important."

His voice is muffled under his cloak. "Last time you said it was important, it turned out to be a weirdly smooth asteroid."

"Well, yes," she falters, "but it really is important, this time." Her upper hands fiddle with the highlights in her hair. "There's a transmission, Captain. From the Diamond line."

A bleary eye opens disinterestedly. "Which color is it?"

"Pink."

All signs of sleep are gone. "Oh shit."

=<>=

"Howdy there, captain."

"Steven... hey." He can't help but feel a bit awkward, and maybe a little worried. They hadn't parted on bad terms exactly, but trapping one's friends in a rapidly shrinking magic dome, however briefly, doesn't paint the loveliest picture of mental health. This Steven, at least, lacks the manic, desperate edge that he'd last been seen growing into. "How you been, buddy?"

"A little better than the last time we saw each other, I hope." He trails off with an aborted laugh. "Listen, are you... headed anywhere in particular right now?"

Not anymore, I'm not. Lars leans away from his relaxed slouch in the captain's chair. "You got work for us?"

"If you're up for it." Steven looks off to the side, tapping away at his panel. "Some foreign energy surges hit a town in New Mexico about a week ago. I sent Peridot over, and she ID'd the traces as alien in origin."

"Steven, you're aliens."

"Different alien, Lars. Way different." Images flash on the screen. Twisting, knotted crop circles burned into the ground. Flickering tornadoes of light tearing open the sky. Robonoids crawling like spiders over the wreckage of a massive set of armor, it's metal organically coiled like muscle. The Rutiles wince at the sight of the charred slag.

"Jesus." Lars looks at Peridot's reconstructive diagram of the thing- it almost reminds him of the Diamond Mech, albeit more crude and small. "That's an angry looking fella."

"You're telling me. And now the suits are trying to fight me for the scraps." Steven lets out an irritated click, dragging a star map into view. "Anyway, the repeated surges left a strong signature, so we were able to trace its origins real precisely. There should be some kind of planet around here."

"You want us to do first contact?"

"We're way past that now. This is damage control. If word gets back to the other Diamonds, it'll take weeks to put them off the warpath." There's a stressed note in Steven's voice, and looking past the rosy light of the transmission, he looks like he hasn't slept. "We need to contain this. Now."

Okay.

Okay.

Lars leans back in his chair, looking at his friends, his crew. "Well, Off Colors? What do you think? Wanna take a little sidequest?"

"A new planet? It could be fun."

"A new people? It could be exciting."

Rhodonite looks surprisingly wistful at the prospect. "A mission... just like the old days..."

"Wonderful news, everyone! Steven is going to give us a mission!" Padparadascha squeaks to herself. 

"If... he... trusts... us. It... won't... hurt. To... try."

That settles it then. Lars looks back to the screen.

"Alright. How do you want to do this?"

Chapter Text

Beach City is a dinky little ocean town in Maryland's part of the Delmarva peninsula with a minor patch of beach tourism, a brief scenic escape for the inland folks by day or night. There's a boardwalk, a small amusement park- it's an innocent and charming backdrop to the raves, underground fight clubs, and mountain pass street racing that reliably spring out in the night like haunted clockwork. It's buildings abruptly taper off to a steep, swooping, hilly cliff side where a lighthouse rests on the very edge.

Nestled on the other side of the cliff is a little beach house with odd geometries, connected to its own conservatory. Steven Quartz Universe is a stout young man with a soft face, a soft voice, and a gentle grip, as if the hand wrapped around Agent Hill's wasn't strong enough to cave the armored car outside like a piñata. 

He herds them to the couch, offering iced tea and sandwiches. The two agents decline. He pauses at the refusal, as if remembering something, and slowly raises up a formidably large bottle of vodka in consideration. The two agents decline. He pours a tea for himself and joins the couch.

It's awkward. It's domestic. It's almost enough to forget the way the wooden house abruptly gives way to the mouth of an ancient temple, the live teleportation device less than twenty feet to the left, and that the mild, kind faced fellow sitting across from them in a pink jacket is an alien god king.

They seem to be alone. The beach house, for all the oddity it's surrounded with, is simply a beach house for one, and nothing more. No monitoring devices. No guards. This seeming vulnerability could be either arrogance, naiveté, or a threat, but their host makes no comment, and so neither will they.

"Mr. Universe?" Coulson begins. "Or would you prefer your title? Asteria Diamond."

"Well you're clearly not here to talk to me as Mr. Universe, sir." For some reason, there's an oddly melancholy sound in that observation. "Asteria Diamond will have to do. Your Radiance, if you must." A hand to his face, thoughtful. "Your Highness is alright, if you prefer something more human. Just... not My Diamond, please. It wouldn't be appropriate."

"Very well, Your Highness." Hill slides a deceptively small folder over. "You might be aware of the anomalies that occurred in New Mexico a few days ago."

"Sure." Asteria Diamond sips at his mug, holding the files open with all the reverence of a Sunday newspaper. "That wasn't us, if you were wondering."

"We weren't. We are interested, however, in the fact that you tampered with the site."

That raises an eyebrow, slightly confused. "It was a town, sir. People lived there. Isn't fixing their roads and houses so they can get back to their normal lives the proper thing to do?"

"You acted without permission-"

"The town certainly wasn't complaining. They helped. And threw such a nice afterparty, too."

"Don't play coy, Asteria. The armor." Hill impatiently taps at a particularly blurry picture amongst the files still held in the Diamond's hand. "The thing that destroyed the town in the first place. When our agents got to the scene, your little spiders were crawling all over it and carried all the pieces away before we could so much as snap a picture of it."

"Oh, of course! That." And he had the gall to laugh to himself, like he hadn't just admitted to pilfering a weapon of mass destruction. "It seemed like the best course of action at the time. Parts of it could have still been active. It was practically a minefield, someone could have gotten hurt."

He had a point. Unfortunately, Director Fury was rather insistent on repossessing that armor. "And what, exactly, have you been doing with the pieces?"

"My engineers are looking at it. Peridot's been having an absolute field day trying to figure out how it worked. Bismuth was a surprise, though. She's been absolutely destroying scraps to identify the material composition. Something about the flexibility of the metal alloy being similar to organic muscle."

"To what end? What are you doing with the research?"

"Nothing really. The composition might be useful after we fully test its properties, but- hmm. I don't like weapons that much."

"So you wouldn't mind handing it over to us?" Please, oh please, don't make this difficult.

=<>=

His Radiance gave a very amicable, very polite answer that basically boiled down to "not actually my problem, talk to someone else". Because in the end, the armor was not in his custody and never was- it was all the engineers, and far be it from their Diamond to simply seize their property on someone else's behalf. If SHIELD wanted it, they would have to negotiate with the holders themselves.

'Peridot' is green, wild-haired, no larger than a child, and it's her handiwork that had systematically disassembled the dead metal giant into chunks suspended in the air by her power, rotating idly with her examination as even more spidery orbs crawled over the pieces. Her voice is grainy and petulant with her shrewd bargaining, full of the odd musical tone inherent to the voice of her kind. Her impatience morphed that chiptune-ish noise into something more like migraine inducing microphone feedback. Haggling with her was hard and graceless.

'Bismuth' was hefty and broad in a way no human could ever be, hammering out tools with her bare hands. She had nonchalantly inserted her hand in lava, molding metal slag in her palms, and stated in no uncertain terms that she would be keeping the material samples she had taken. The two agents decided not to argue it.

But SHIELD could have the armor- transported out by their own labor, in all of its dismantled pieces, and none of the Gem's research.

=<>=

"Oh, agents? Before you leave. Do remind your Director he needs to get back to me about Frank."

"Who or what is Frank?"

"The indestructible Gem hivemind hibernating in the Earth's crust that would explode the entire planet if it ever awoke." He had no right to look so serene saying that. "We were talking about reinforcing its containment."

The inappropriately polite man takes another sip from his mug like he didn't just make Coulson lose his sleep for the next week.

Chapter Text

"Captain, planetoid in sight."

"Approaching assigned coordinates, Captain."

Lars squints at the sprawling plane bemusedly. "Well whaddya know. The flat earthers were onto something after all."

"Uh, Captain?" Rhodonite quails. "There's some type of foreign energy signature headed towards us, I can't identify what-"

"You trespass upon the threshold of Asgard, land of the Aesir, seat of the house of Odin, sworn protector and sovereign of the Nine Realms. State your purpose or be surrendered to the full force of the Einherjar."

=<>=

Thor's first rude, impulse thought is that this motley crew brought before them resembles the costumed revelry of Winternights. The five of them are a grotesque rainbow's cacophony of limbs and eyes, one especially reminiscent of a Leviathan with her(?) stout, serpentine body and countless legs. They stand at attention before Odin with practiced yet only half-remembered grace. Even the herald is shaken at the sight of them, nearly forgetting himself, voice almost unsteady.

"You stand before Odin Borson, Allfather, God of War and Wisdom, King of Asgard, Protector of the Nine Realms. You stand before Frigga Fjörgynndottir, Goddess of Foresight, Queen of Asgard. You stand before Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, Chosen of Mjølnir, Heir to the Throne of Asgard."

The leader of the group is lithe, square faced, cloaked in foreboding reds and blacks. His hair is harshly cropped at the sides, curling and wayward and not at all hiding the blatant seam running across his right eye. He raises a hand, gloved like a falconer, and it no longer matters that this unknown man is pink like a lady's jewel, that he and his fellows appear to be unarmored and unarmed. The moment this stranger stepped forth, Thor saw his his father's eye narrow with something that left his own hand nervously strangling the grip of Mjølnir.

The bow is loose, irreverent. "I am Lars of the Stars, captain of the Destiny's End. My crew and I come to you as envoys of His Radiance, Asteria Diamond of The Great Diamond Authority."

"How did your people find this place?"

"My Diamond was made aware of a foreign presence on one of his colonies, and traced its origin back to here."

"Pardon our ignorance, envoy," his mother interrupts, "but what colony do you speak of? We have never seen your like before."

"Ours is the third body of the star system Sol, the planet that calls itself Earth."

Midgard. Thor feels Mother and Father straighten at the thought. "And how long has your kind had foothold on that world?"

The envoy turns to one of his crew, an androgynous willowy set of twins joined at the hip. "I often forget myself. Rutiles, how long has the colony been in place?"

"6,000 years."

"Give or take a century."

"Yeah, that."

"And what business does your Diamond have with Asgard?"

"Your present and future actions on Earth must be answered for. He wishes to open a dialogue with you concerning them."

"Very well," Father tones dismissively- why was he being so dismissive? "Your message is received. You may be on your way."

"We have been instructed not to leave until we receive your definite answer."

And oh, Thor is definitely not imagining it, that is the smug, irritating grin of a fox plastered on the face of this jewel colored man.

=<>=

"When will we receive them?"

"Never. We cannot receive them."

This seems... unlike Father. "I don't understand. Why may we not receive them, Father? We have not made contact with new peoples in thousands of years. Would it not be a wonderful diplomatic opportunity?"

"The Gems are known, son. Known as an ancient race of nomadic planet eaters. I cannot in good conscience allow them any foothold in our realms. Is that clear?"

"I-"

"Is that clear."

"I... yes, Father. As you say."

=<>=

Father has left their guests to Thor's hospitality, for now. Well- 'hospitality'. Thor holds no illusion as to what Father means by that- what Father has always meant when he leaves any guest to Thor. They will revel, laugh, dine, and drink and drink and drink. Sated bellies and minds full of mead make for strangers and allies alike more pliable to this or that treaty... or more likely to part with their secrets. 

Thor eyes these 'Gems' poke and prod at the foods with bemused expressions. "Is the food not to your liking?"

Captain Lars waves the question off. "Don't mind them. It's nothing on your food, per se. We simply have no need to eat- it's a novelty at best. Some Gems don't even know how to!"

"I see. Do not feel obligated to partake if it brings you discomfort."

"The lovely prince is going to bring us before a feast! How exquisite! Dashing Fandral, might I enlist you in guiding me through these wondrous offerings?"

This particular Gem is endearingly elegant, almost doll-like in her flaring gown and large bow. Were she aesir, she would have been, quite literally, the jewel of Asgard's court. Naturally, Fandral is completely taken with her.

"Certainly, fair lady." Fandral, the absolute scoundrel, even kissed her hand, prompting a belated giggling blush.

Thor turns back to the captain, who seemed just about to take up Volstagg's challenge of finding out whether he can eat an entire stag's bone. "Now, good captain. I know you eat." He props up a tankard. "But do you drink? "

=<>=

As it turns out, the good captain can drink. Almost enough to keep up with an Asgardian.

Almost.

"-and so I told her, 'go ahead, blast us into space for all I care'! Oh, the look on her face, she was fit to break her teeth!"

If Thor was nearing a bit closer to drunkenness than he should have, if he found the story just a bit too funny- well no one else here was fit to spread the word.

"So how does a thief of your..." Norns, he was snickering to himself, what would Father say, "...caliber, gain the confidence of a king?"

"Tsk. It's not stealing if it's war." The captain takes another swig out of his drink. Thor wonders how they ended up alone together. There's a silence, and he wonders if the captain will leave it at that.

"You die."

"Pardon?"

"That's how you really gain the confidence of a king. Die for him."

"Yet you stand here now."

"The two don't have to contradict." This swig is more resigned. "I was a coward. Coward the day I was born 'till the day I died. Always scared, and scared of being scared. And that's how I died. A scared, dumb kid. But... he- he brought me back. He cried over me. Like I was someone worth it. And that became the rest of my life. Being someone who was worth it." A forced bubbling laugh bordering on hysteria. It sounds like tears. "Fuck," he chokes out, "Why am I telling you this? This was just supposed to be another job. I don't even know you. I don't... even..."

The captain slumps over, asleep and almost entirely alone.

=<>=

Lars bolts awake, smothered by furs and silks in what must be the Asgardian equivalent to a penthouse suite. He takes a moment to resent the bright light streaming through the open curtains on the balcony before realizing the morning sun isn't stabbing his eyeballs as much as it should.

So I don't get hangovers anymore. Score.

...

Wait, what the fuck did I do last night?

There's an ornate wooden stand by the wall with a very familiar war hammer sitting on it.

Oh no.

Oh no.

"Ah, good captain! You've awoken earlier than I expected!" And Thor's here. Fuck me sideways. 

"Uhh..." Very smooth, Lars. 

Thor, bless his buff heart, lets Lar's panic completely sail over his head. "Your shipmates came looking for you around late last night, but worry not. I assured them that you were resting safely in my chambers."

"And what. Exactly... am I doing in your room?" Don't panic, don't panic- "What happened last night?" You panicked. Good job.

"We drank, we fought. You made your ancestors proud." The prince recites it with a sly smile, like he'd let Lars in on a private joke. He continues in a more sober tone. "I've had some food brought up here, if you wish to join me. I would like to speak to you without any... outside influence, as it were."

The food, surprisingly, is the holy grail of post-hangover meals, and Lars finds himself joining out of habit more than anything. Besides, a full mouth is a great excuse not to talk.

"Father wants me to stall you." Ah. Politics at breakfast. "He is... wary of your kind, for reasons I do not fully understand. He wants me to delay you, and hopefully send you on your way with empty promises of diplomacy that he has no intention of honoring."

Awfully blunt, are you. "What about you?"

"I am not my Father." The look on the prince's face turns shrewd. "I cannot know your intentions. But neither can our king, for all he claims. Maybe you are destroyers. But if history is to be believed, so too was Asgard. If you have sought us out in peace, it is my duty to respond in kind."

"And what of the king? How can you convince him to change his mind?"

"The moment you first left the throne room, I knew that I could not sway him. But we can force his hand."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Give my father the one message he cannot ignore. Bring your Diamond to Asgard."

Chapter Text

"I won't be meeting up with you for a little while."

Jasper leers at him, all sharp teeth and glowing eyes, from the shade of her stone house. "What, is His Radiance too good to keep roughing it with a common quartz?" Her squint gains an edge. "Or are you tired of getting your gem polished in the dirt?"

"Oh, sure. I'm the one getting dusted. That's why there's a new Jasper crater in the woods."

"It's an instillation art piece." she grumbles sarcastically. He raises an eyebrow in expectant silence, and she caves, barely. "Fine. Cooperative installation art piece." Her frown returns in full force. "Don't dodge the question, little Diamond."

"Diplomatic mission."

A chuffing click. "One of the colonies whining about the stupid good ol' days again?"

"Thank the blessed grace, it wasn't. It's actual aliens, this time."

"Ew."

He can't bring himself to protest her insults. "Ugh, I know. They dropped some strays on Earth a few weeks back, and then destroyed a small town trying to kill the strays."

"And you're left over, clearing up their mess and being forced to make nice. Pathetic."

"It's a living."

She lets out a drawn, droning hum. "I could always take you hostage." She waves an arm at the sky with mocking nostalgia. "We could lose the next week. I hear Yellowstone is lovely this time of year."

"Is it bad that I'm almost tempted to actually take you up on that?"

"It's my natural charm," she leans. "Tell me about your mission's entourage. Are you bringing your knife pet?"

"That knife pet can out-duel a battalion of Gem fighters and throw a Bismuth into the ground, so yes, Connie will be joining us."

"Good." It's almost surprising, that she seems to approve the decision. "She has teeth. Her zealotry will give you the luxury to act with mercy."

"BIsmuth is coming along, too. She's got a respectable, level head-"

"Strong, too."

"-and she's got a good eye for engineering. She'll be able to observe Asgard's technology very well. And if anything goes wrong, she's the most experienced pilot and repairgem. Blue Diamond's Pearl will be coming along as well, to record and observe the planet itself- the structures, the organic life and such."

She raises a coy brow. "For a diplomatic mission, this is a lot of spying."

"Aren't all the best ones?"

"Fair point." She pauses with heavy thought for a moment. "What about the fused Garnet? That Sapphire was a seasoned piece of Blue Diamond's court back before the war. It would do you some good to bring a made diplomat on your diplomatic mission."

Solid advice. "I'll have to talk to Garnet about it. She would make a good addition to the entourage."

"And me."

"Eh?"

"I am going."

"Why?"

"Of the four prospective members of your assembled party, only one is in a role solely dedicated to your safety." He almost protests before she practically drowns his mouth with her hand. "Your pink gate animal does not count." She levels him with a calculating look. "You're strong. But you cannot do a Diamond's job if you are always looking behind you."

"What's it to you?"

"I'm not going to let my one halfway decent sparring partner get shattered while I'm not looking."

"Aww. You do care."

"Ugh. Shut up."

Chapter Text

She'd been so... frustrated after hitting yet another block in her work, almost hitting real anger, so she'd taken a self-imposed break to cool off before she snapped at an undeserving, non-Darcy intern.

(God, she had actual dedicated assistants now. What even was her life.)

So she had grabbed her keys off their perch, maybe a little more roughly than usual, and loudly called a recess for everyone to clean up shop and get some food. She didn't bother to check for looks of confusion and skepticism. It didn't matter. The older ones would catch up the new hires on how things worked around here.

It was admittedly pretty stupid, driving off into the desert with no sense of direction, trusting her GPS just a little too much to eventually pull her out when she was done. It seems, lately, that's all she's good for. Getting lost.

Lost in desert, lost in late hours, lost in research.

Lost in undrunk coffee, lost in SHIELD files, lost in forgotten meals.

Lost in stars, lost in machines, lost in failure, lost, lost, lost.

Months of searching, researching, hoping... all wasted. Desolated. Worthless.

What did you expect, trying to tear gates in the sky?

Ah, there it is- the classic dry imaginary Selvig. The real one was somewhere far away, tucked behind so many layers of SHIELD secrecy they probably won't be so much as hearing of eachother for the next year. Idiots, the both of them- shut up with promises of pretty pennies and promptly choked with secrets.

And now she's getting dramatic. Dramatics and imaginary Selvigs are a reliable signal she's been stewing in the desert for too long. Time to head back. Head back, just in time to see the pillar of light coming out of the sky.

Jane Foster, astronomer and wormhole chaser, slams the gas pedal.

=<>=

"Hey there Doc. What'll it be?"

Tired, frustrated, just this side of snapping, she forces an amiable smile on her face. "The biggest, quickest coffee you can whip up. I need to dash. You saw that light show out in the desert, right?"

"Oh yeah!" The clerk gives off a quick laugh. "I guess you weren't here right after the attacks, being kidnapped by the suits and all as you were." She waves a hand out back at the sands where the light once came. "Yeah, the thing was going off for near a week straight after that big robot came in and wrecked the damn town. More aliens, if you can believe it. 'Cept these ones wanted to help. A mini army of space ladies popping out of the desert with their crazy magic tools came by and fixed the town back up."

"What? How didn't I see this?"

"Eh, most of 'em left after the job was done, and the rest of 'em got scared off when you came back with your group of suits. We figured your guys must of told 'em to step off." The clerk seems to catch the incredulous, vaguely mystified look on her face, leaning in conspiratorially . "A car pulled into town 'bout an hour back. Dondai Supremo. The same one their boss was using. He was asking for you."

=<>=

She pulls into the sight of all her utterly bemused assistants and supervising agents vaguely clustered around an angular compact car. A tall, willow-thin woman looked out above them all, her birdlike face scanning the crowd. Large blue eyes, framing some large, rosy white orb, suddenly fix upon Jane herself, before leaning ever so slightly to whisper to a companion.

"Doctor!" cuts a man's smiling, singing voice through the crowd. "Just the lady I've been looking for!" There's a large, gentle hand shaking hers, and through the surprised haze she idly notes she can't feel a heartbeat. "You really are quite a hard find, you know," he laughs.

A SHIELD agent edges closer. "Sir, this is government property-"

"Hey now. I've got no business with your agency. Keep all the secrets you like. I'm here to talk to my dear Doctor over here, that's all. Just two good friends who'd like very much to talk to themselves."

The soft, vaguely musical words blanket the crowd like a dazed limbo, and the man looks back at her from the corner of his eyes, as though asking for permission.

"Yeah, sure," she stutters. "Let's... talk."

=<>=

He(?) is tall, though not quite so much as Thor, and a good measure more broad. A strong, squarely solid body under deceptive softness, tidying up three-man equipment with one hand while his willowy friend pulled up one of the collapsible tables, setting a takeout box of Jane's favorite order (simultaneously the creepiest and politest thing any guy has done for her in a while).

He lounges catlike on one of Darcy's stray beanbag chairs like the picture of relaxed grace- pink buttoned shirt, sandals, tidy rosy curls, and pearlescent teardrop earrings all too similar to the lustered gem of his probably-bodyguard.

He almost passes for human, but these two are far from her first alien rodeo. His nails are just a bit too thick, canines far too big and broad in his easy smile. The eyes are especially striking- large and soft and puppy brown, with a scattered pink sheen throwing reptilian angular pupils into sharp relief. Damning most of all, of course, is the large band circling his belly, opening in a diamond shape to reveal the faceted, unapologetic gemstone embedded where a human would have had a navel.

She's seen aliens, sure. But not like this, this pair of pretty, impossibly colored off-models looking like educated guesses of human beings.

"You're Gems, right? There's pictures of you online." Darcy hums at the Diamond before Jane can stop her. "And I gotta say-"Darcy I swear to god if you start hitting on the aliens I will skin you, "-the pictures don't do it justice. I mean, those eyes."

Mercifully he seems more confused than offended, taking the compliment with an uncertain laugh. "Thanks? I... like your eyes too?" Taking Darcy's resulting snicker as a good sign, his eyes roam around the gutted building serving as her lab. "I've read your work, of course. Your theorems on wormholes in particular excite our scientists."

"It's not... primitive to you, as an intergalactic society?" Jane quips skeptically.

"No, not at all," chirps his tall guard. "The field is quite novel to us. At this point, you know more than we do, really, it's all quite fascinating."

"Don't try to flatter us," Darcy cuts. "If you were really here to talk shop, I wouldn't be here. You would have made me leave the way you made all those SHIELD guys leave. You want to ask about Thor, right?"

"I really did want to talk about physics though..." muttered the guard.

Asteria Diamond pats at his guard's thin hand consolingly before moving on. "It's true. Asgard is an unknown to us, and you're the closest source we have short of walking in blind."

"And why would I help you?" Jane can't quite stop herself from biting.

"We understand your time is important. If compensation is a concern I'm more than willing to-"

"I mean. Why would I give you information that you could use to hurt them? To hurt Thor?" She should probably stop talking. She should probably stop antagonizing what is essentially the alien equivalent to an emperor. "Not to be rude, but I don't know you, and I definitely don't trust you."

The guard moves to rise, brows knit with offense. "If you're insinuating that-"

"Pearl," the Diamond interrupts with a gently raised hand, "that's enough. Doctor Foster," he continues, turning back to Jane herself, "I understand we can't force your trust or cooperation. Just say the word and we'll leave."

And he probably would, too. He seemed like the politely earnest, mild mannered type to actually drop the matter if she insisted. The two would leave just as mysteriously as they came, and she'd be left alone, knowing even less than before, filled with worry and surrounded by the remains of her latest government funded failure.

"What do you-" she sighs to herself. "What do you even want with our information. What do you want with Asgard?"

"I'm heading a diplomatic mission there. I don't want state secrets or weaknesses. I just want this to go as smoothly as possible."

Going to Asgard. Going to Asgard. She scrambles and fails for nearly three months, and these people can just go there.

"Can your crazy alien ride take humans on it?" Darcy asks.

"Well, there is a human on the diplomatic team-"

"Cool. Take us with you. That's compensation for ya."

The Diamond trails off, blinking like it could clear his confusion.

"Darcy why would you say that! " Jane whisper-yells.

"We have to admit, this is a rather... unexpected request," muses Pearl.

"It's not too weird. I wanna see aliens. Write some papers. Get some real mileage out of my poli-sci degree." She knowingly side-eyes Jane. "And don't say you don't wanna see your space prince again. We both know why you're really trying to make those wormholes."

"Yeah, courtesy of SHIELD. They're not just going to let me leave!"

"Sure they will," scoffs Darcy. "You're the Asgard expert. You're going to Asgard. You'll just come out more useful than ever."

Curse Darcy's public speaking classes, making her so convincing.

"Okay. Okay." Jane drags a last hand over her face. "Sure. Fine. I'll give you what I know, in exchange for a spot on your mission. Hell, the prince likes me. Might get you some brownie points." She hopes that didn't sound presumptuous. Oh fuck, she just got snappy with an alien dictator.

Bad. Bad Jane. That's how you vanish under mysterious circumstances.

As for the man himself, he simply hums at the thought with a long, drawn out blink. And smiles. "Alright!"

"You'll let us come along?"

"Sure!" he laughs. "Why not? We could use some extra hands. Welcome aboard."

One handshake later, Doctor Jane Foster, astronomer, and Darcy Lewis, political scientist, are going to space.

Chapter Text

There is a movement on Midgard. With barely any warning, the sky of Asgard breaks.

The sky breaks, like the irreparable warp of a child's hand threatening to ruin an old square of fabric. It breaks like the twist of unbaked bread, the stars pulled and stretched about a lengthy vortex that barreled toward the Bridge and suddenly stopped.

It is a ship, or something like it. A great ivory thing, seamless and shifting as though it were alive. Almost like the whales Heimdall once told him of, though larger than he had imagined such a beast ever being, laid with arabesques of dark nacre, innumerable eyes lining its maw like freckles. It swims toward the citadel with lazy, powerful strokes. The Tamarai- flagship of Asteria Diamond. The Captain's warnings did not do it justice.

It opens its maw, just barely, to let a dropship escape it- a small, orbish thing, striped and spiraled like a sea shell, flaring with short, trailing tentacles. It speeds along the broken remains of the Rainbow Bridge as the flagship retreats to orbit the Asgardian sky overhead.

Father will be most displeased.

Good.

=<>=

It's a rather silly thought really, but Thor looks at Asteria Diamond and can't quite decide if the man (if he is a man) is taller or smaller than he expected.

The Diamond leisurely rides beside him on a rosy cat creature, stout and white maned at a size to tower over a chariot cat and rival Thor's own horse (a horse bravely ignoring the obvious and massive claws of it's riding neighbor). This Gem forgoes saddle and bridle, directing the creature from his legs with only a tasseled saddle cloth between them, hands straying across a flower-braided mane.

He is tall and stout, with a handsome soft face and curling hair. His friendly dark eyes are violently angled like a snake's, his smiling teeth broad and pointed like a war wolf's. His soft hands had shaken Thor's, and the aesir prince had felt the subtle curl of blunted claws.

He seems modestly dressed, as far as kings went. A wine red vest with a small white star embroidered at its nape. An elbow sleeve shirt, powder pink with white cuffs. Rose pink pants, white boots, the only real adornment to him being a simple opening to the diamond on his belly.

"There is something... under," the Diamond vaguely remarks, tilting his head to the sky, eyes half-lidded with contemplation. "Like a song. A sound that mirrors the castle."

"The castle is in the center of Asgard, isn't it?" posits his guard. "The structure of the spires might be amplifying some type of vibration from the core."

This guard of his is an interesting one. She's about as tall as Thor himself and could have passed for a prince in her own right, dressed in an austere, militaristic jacket with star-emblazoned epaulettes upon her shoulders. She wears white shoes and gloves, and the pale lavender ensemble of her clothing highlights the dark tone of her skin and magnifies the presence of the golden hilt of her sword. Unlike the others, who have gone back to the palace or deeper into the city for whatever secret task the Diamond has assigned them, this one rides with her liege on his mount.

(She sits beside her liege at every table. They whisper, they laugh, they dine. The Einherjar guards report that she remains at his side at almost all times, even accompanying him to his bedchambers. Far be it from Thor to remark on another royal's... predilections, much less those of someone so foreign, but he can't help but find it strange.)

The two of them are staring at him now. They were expecting him to comment on their conversation, weren't they.

"Ah. Yes, you would be correct, my lady," Thor briefly flounders. "Underneath the center of this realm is a great crystal heart that holds the land together. The castle's structure is indeed intended to mirror it's shape."

The Diamond hums appreciatively to himself. "I'll have to ask the others what they think of it."

Determinedly looking past the fact that Gems could apparently hear the crystal heart of Asgard, he presses on. "How goes your talks with the Allfather?"

At that, the Diamond actually hesitates. "I- I don't mean this in a bad way, but..."

"-but your Allfather is very used to being in charge of negotiations," the guard dryly remarks. "And very used to keeping his secrets."

"He's alright with our terms as they stand, but he refuses to explain his initial actions."

"Such as?"

"The Destroyer!" the Diamond bites. "Why he would send such a indiscriminate weapon after one stray aesir? He's hiding something. How can I trust him to keep his terms if he refuses to explain himself?"

"Father... did not tell you?"

"So you know."

"I..." Perhaps he shouldn't have spoken. "If the Allfather has said nothing, then it is not my place to say."

"But you want to," the Diamond notes shrewdly. "Why?"

"Because..." 

Because it is my fault that this happened.

Because the Odinsleeps last longer and longer and I fear that war may break my father for the last time.

Because we have just skimmed the edge of all out war mere months ago.

Because Asgard is now weak and landlocked and we cannot afford enemies.

Because for all Loki's misdeeds I cannot simply let Father erase my brother from history.

"...it is your planet, after all. You deserve at least an honest answer." Thor tugs at the black ribbon of one of his braids. "But I cannot afford to disobey the Allfather outright, I-"

"Why not have a holmgang for it?" offer's the Diamond's guard. "Disobeying your Allfather is one thing, but honoring the terms of a duel is another."

That's an idea. "An interesting thought, my lady, but how did you come to know of holmgang?"

"The humans that worshiped you held the practice themselves."

"So we would duel over the information you know," the Diamond squints. "But what would you want if you won instead?"

"The holmgang would be more of a formality, there's no need to worry about my prize. Just put up an honorable fight."

"We need to at least pretend you had stakes in it, in case someone asks."

"Allright... well..."

What could he bet on that wouldn't seem suspicious to Father? Something not quite so worthless as to risk his wrath, but enough to seem-

Oh.

"Were I to win this holmgang, you would give your entourage freedom from whatever tasks you have given them. Let them enjoy the rest of their stay as guests. I could justify it as preventing you from employing spycraft."

"Your price... is giving my Gems a vacation?"

And Jane. "And your humans."

Asteria Diamond blinks slowly. Then he laughs, a bubbling, boisterous thing. "I'll take it!" He reaches over to clap Thor across the shoulders like an amused father. "We'll grab your friends and mine, have them watch. We need witnesses to back up our story."

Jane will be watching. Jane will be watching.

Oh Norns help me.

Chapter Text

"I half expected your knight."

"She was very persuasive, but no." Asteria Diamond waits for him at the edge of the stone circle, stretching out his hands. "You'll have to settle for me."

"And your companions?"

"Being collected, same as yours. We've got time."

Thor has dressed down, armor and royal trappings left aside in the interest of fairness. His Radiance has mirrored the sentiment, after a fashion, discarding his vest in preparation for the fight. The two of them, like this, look more like peasants interrupted, rather than a prince and king battling the weave of politics. Though perhaps that's the point. In the holmgang, there is neither peasant nor king- simply two civil enough parties and one Hel of a grievance.

"What weapon do you choose?"

The Diamond gestures down to himself- or rather his gem.

"Then perhaps I should forgo Mjölnir for this fight."

"That doesn't mean I'm unarmed. Use your hammer all you like."

"You heard the man," Fandral smugly calls from beyond the trees. "Let him have it! Everyone deserves one good shock to last the rest of their life."

"Oh, please. The blood would never clear off the stones," Sif drawls. "Do it over by the grass if you must."

Sif and the Three have followed his lead, dressing down to keep attention away from the duel. The Diamond's entourage didn't bother, though that was more understandable- they would stand out no matter what they did. Especially the big one- towering and muscled like a horse, with great curling horns and feral golden eyes. She might even be beautiful, in the way that a sword was beautiful, or a dragon, and she eyes the two duelers in a rather appraising fashion.

Two Gems- one broad-shouldered and snake haired, the other graceful and impassive- lean languidly against the base of an outer border stone, while the knight looms watchfully as she sits at the top, hand idly fixed on the rich purple of her sword hilt. Farther out, a willowy blue Gem looks out at the sky, drawing book at hand.

Lady Darcy has already brazenly put herself by Fandral, charming him with her blunt questioning.

Jane almost hides behind the rocks, eyes filled with some indecipherable emotion that makes him selfishly wish his brother was here. Loki always was better at understanding what people tried to hide.

"If you're quite done staring into the king's eyes," Hogun dryly barks, "get on with it. We need to be back before dinner."

The Diamond chuckles at the interruption, lowering to a fighting stance. Mjölnir cuts Thor across the field, barreling towards a growing flash of pink.

=<>=

"-h my god, is he okay?"

Never better. In terms of ways Thor's ever woken up, this actually ranks on the higher end. Now if only he could remember how he'd fallen asleep.

"He s- ne, he's healed, I don't know-"

"Look at h-   -ke a drunk,"

Was that it? It makes sense. There's a lightness in his head, his whole body feels buzzed and warm like an extra tankard of mead in winter, and with everything that's happened... he's been so tired. So, so tired. There is a thousand years of memories to weigh his eyes open, and lately the only way he's been able to sleep sometimes is to forget. Never using the palace supplies, of course. If he did, someone was bound to report back to Father, or worse yet, Mother, and he just can't take anymore-

"-ost in your eyes, little Diamond."

The stjarna did have rather pretty eyes. Dark as the rich earth, tunneling into a diamond abyss.

It's strange, but there's a scattering of light, across those irises. Pink, with traces of blue and gold and white.

His brother had green eyes. Green and pale like dry yew needles, clear like glass. So clear Thor could see the stars in his tears as he fell-

Thor.

There's a strong hand on his face, and a voice practically echoes inside his bones as he's forcibly dragged into clarity with all the gentleness of the unfiltered Bifrost.

There was a fight. He lost. He lost... on purpose? No, no. Not quite. It was exciting, to find someone he could really fight. He'd forgotten he was supposed to lose, when it was just so invigorating to be so well matched.

The strength. The speed. The power. The Diamond had met him at every turn, and Thor had gotten overzealous. He'd leapt in the air, Mjölnir crashing down upon a shield of light, and...

He sits up with a start. Everyone is crowded around, and it is Asteria Diamond's hand on his face, kneeling down next to him.

"Oh thank the Norns you're alright."

"You're the one on the ground, and you're worried about me? "

"I became too enthusiastic with my strength," Thor tried to explain as the other man hauled him up. "I could have mortally wounded you."

"You're not the first," the Diamond laughs, if a little sadly, "and you probably won't be the last. Don't feel too bad about it."  He traps the prince with a brief embrace, leaning in to murmur, "Now I hear it's traditional to repay any injuries the loser incurs. Enjoy the rest of your day."

"What do you-"

"Doctor!" Asteria Diamond's voice sings out. "Take the day off."

"What, why-"

"Stjarna, there's really no need-"

But he's already off with a clap to Thor's back and a coy, catlike smile. "I'll see you at dinner!"

Oh dear.

Thor shuffles at his feet.

"So," Jane stammers, "want to... get lunch?"

Chapter Text

Asgard is a beautiful place.

Really. Objectively.

She supposes.

She looked out and saw that the realm was lush and green. The forest where they had waited for that duel was so brimming with the noise of life, her poor desert heart almost couldn't take it. Clear waters glimmered with the shine of sun and stars.

The cityscape is rustic, almost, for all of the blatant prosperity of it's people. Elegantly, delicately carved, in the way that only someone with thousands of years to kill would bother to, yet little more than wood and stone, nonetheless.

Polished carved stone and gilded spires burst from arterial roads, from bridges, from the capital, and she wonders where these golden structures fit, amidst the ghost of an old village that Asgard still is.

Thor hasn't changed back into his armor.

He's wearing a grey tunic shirt, just barely embroidered with white and green. His hair is lazily tied back except for a small, stray, ribboned braid, and as they weave through the day's foot traffic, there is nothing to tie him to the throne except perhaps the aesir equivalent to military bearing. It makes her thankful, just a bit, to Sif, for talking her into taking some Asgardian plainclothes before the duel.

They don't head back to the palace. Instead, Thor weaves further into Asgard itself, leading into an old inn, the stained glass window of its door coiled with a green snake.

They sit at a window table. The traffic and noise of an alien world drifts lazily in the periphery of her mind. Daylight plays along his hair, and Jane idly realizes that he isn't a proper blonde- she can see at the roots a dark strawberry blonde, flirting the edge of a brown or red, growing only to be bleached by the sun.

"I always hoped you'd see this place one day." He follows her eyes as they track a chariot cat's journey through the streets. "Though I didn't expect you to come with such colorful company."

"It was Darcy's idea," she can't help but deflect. "I just had the audacity to go along with it."

"I'm glad you did," He says softly, and he sounds like he means it. Neither of them remark on the slightly worn look of his face that hadn't left the entire week she's been here, or the sympathetic look of the innkeeper, who claps Thor by the shoulder, calling him Atli, surprised when he specifically requests not to get a drink.

"I am, too." She wonders for a moment, if she's allowed to reach across to him, if they were ever that close, and finds herself doing it anyway. Their hands lace together from across the small table, and she finds that his hand is still familiar to her, even after all this time. "I'm glad I got to see you again." She thumbs a circle across his hand. "Whatever this is, whatever we are... I'm glad we get to start over." The thought, at least, brings a slight smile to his face.

(He looks so tired. What happened to him these past few months?)

"How does the Diamond treat you?" he asks.

"He's... nice, I guess..." she trails awkwardly. "He let me hitch a ride here after all. But... I don't know, it's..."

It's weird to see someone ask if you like apple momos one moment and win a magic fistfight with a god the next.

"...it's just all a little strange. I never would have thought I'd end up like this, you know?"

"I have felt much the same as of late."

And what could she ever say to that?

"I was almost mad at you for a little while." Oh. Oh god, not that. She shouldn't be saying something like that. Fuck. Fuck. Bad. Backtrack, backtrack. "You said we would see each other again and then... we didn't. I know you're like, immortal or something, but a few months can be a long time for humans. I started to realize that the time I'd spent waiting for you was longer than I had ever even known you."

She can see him straighten as the concept settles in his mind.

"I mean- I'm not upset anymore. That bridge- you need it to go offworld, right? I saw it broken, when we were landing. Can't be mad about you not visiting when you didn't exactly have a choice."

"Still- I am sorry, Jane. I never intended to make it seem as though I had abandoned you."

"What even happened? I keep hearing all this insane stuff- there was some kind of war that didn't happen, and then all these talks with the Gems, and-" Something he had said before he left Earth surfaces in her memory. "-your brother! You said- is he okay?"

But with every word, Thor simply shrunk down a little more on himself.

As though everything that had happened was another weight on his shoulder until finally, at her last question, he broke.

"My brother," he can barely bring himself to whisper, "is dead." 

It's an unsettling sight. Thor, who smiles, who laughs, who yells and cries. Thor who lets his emotions roll over everything like the thunder in his hands.

His voice seems to go on without him, level and flat, as though all the storm has left his body. "By his own hand, he has fallen into the Bifrost. I could only watch."

My god. "... I can't even imagine..."

"I should be used to this, by now." He laughs bitterly. "I should be used to watching my brothers die before my eyes."

And what could she ever say to that?

Chapter Text

"You look far too entertained about this."

"I am very entertained." Hogun's rare, squinting smile persists nonetheless. "You were beaten into the ground by a flower soft fjölkyngi man."

"If he is a man," Sif drawls. "I've heard the race is only women, and barely even that."

"So you lost a fight, to a girl, no less." Fandral gets a swift box on the ears for that. "Lay off, Sif! It's true! Can't all be shieldmaidens!"

"We agreed beforehand that I was intended to lose."

"I have seen you fight," Volstagg snickers, "and that was not the bearing of a Thor trying to lose."

"So I may have gotten carried away-"

"Is that what they call it these days?"

"And besides," he deflects, going back to Sif's point, "that doesn't seem to be true. The Captain was most certainly a man."

Fandral raises a smug eyebrow. "And how would you know that, Thor?"

"Oh, shut up-"

"You alright, prince?"

Norns have mercy.

Asteria Diamond was right there in front of them, guards at his arm. "Seems you're being a bit bothered."

"My friends think they achieve amusement by tormenting me."

"Now, now," Fandral croons. "We only jest. We were only wondering if our crown prince's pride was hurt by a flower man or a flower lady."

The Diamond hums at the thought, a long, low, singing sound. "No. I can't say he was. We aren't-" the Diamond's eyes shutter for a moment, "Gems are not men. Or ladies. We don't... require those sort of things."

"Hermaphrodites, then?"

"No, just-"

"O-kay," cuts the Diamond's human knight, "let's save the lecture for later. We've got work to do."

"Right. Sorry." Asteria Diamond actually reddens at the subtle scold, a flush in his cheeks darkening his skin to the same rosy shade as his hair. "I'll be collecting, Thor."

The holmgang. "Of course." He lowers his voice just slightly. "We might want to take this to one of our rooms. Father has ways to spy on many of the common places of the palace."

"Fair enough. Yours or mine?"

"I suppose," he idles, "yours would be less suspicious. It is within my duties to attend to my guests, after all."

"Then I'll be seeing you."

Sif whistles slyly as the Diamond leaves. "It beats you, kisses you on the head, and now it invites you to its chambers. Do be careful, Thor. I'm starting to think it's courting you."

"Don't tell Father."

"You're not actually taking it up on the offer?"

"This is not-" Thor drags a hand across his own face. "It is not some sort of game, Sif. Please. I've already disobeyed Father by leading them here-"

"You what-"

"-and I can't afford anymore slights in his eyes. I need to do this, for the good of Asgard, but Father musn't find out."

The teasing looks are gone. 

=<>=

This is the one that beat him. This strange, blush pale Gem with rose hair and dark tunneling eyes, an aura that sang of such rich, benign softness that the plush fabrics of the room seemed harsh in comparison.

The herald of an immortal, needless race that can devour worlds.

"You look a bit stressed," the Diamond notes. "I could have us talk alone, if you like."

"I-" It would be rude, perhaps, to dismiss someone's protectors while they were in a foreign land, but..."-yes. That might make this... easier."

The two guards- the handsome lady knight and the towering one with green horns- leave the room. The taller one's golden eyes threaten Thor with unsung promise.

"Don't mind my Jasper. She's just a bit protective, is all."

"It's not anything on your guard. It is-"

Thor stutters to a stop- disgraceful child, speak up when you talk to me!- but the Gem across from him says nothing of it, waiting patiently with a neutral smile.

"It is," he finally manages, "simply a difficult subject to broach. I am going against my father, the Allfather, to speak of this with you, and I am... personally invested in the matter, as well, I-"

There is, dare he imagine it, an open, honest concern on the Diamond's face.

"Thor," his voice sings gently, "do I put you in danger? Does this talk put you in danger?"

"I..."

It's so subtle. The slightest furrow of large brows, a downward turn of lips, an open searching expression of eyes so clear that Thor can almost see his own reflection back in them.

"...I don't know."

Something shutters behind the diamonds of the other man's eyes. "I see." He leans back into his seat, one hand curled around the arm of his chair like the claws of a cat, the other loosely steepled against his soft face. A long, low sigh, like the distant purr of tagelharpa strings.

"Tell me prince," Asteria Diamond hums from behind the shadow of his own hands, "Do you know my terms for Odin?"

"An exchange of ambassadors. A system to inform your people if we were to have any further affairs on Midgard," Thor recites mechanically. "We would require your permission to approach Midgard in the first place."

"And do you believe," the Diamond's voice sings on, every word settling in Thor's mind like too many stolen cups of mead, "that your father will honor them?"

"I believe," all Thor can say, "he will not have a choice."

The Diamond takes the words in for a moment, finally breaking their shared gaze. A pressure Thor hadn't even known existed suddenly lifts from the air, leaving him just short of light-headed.

"I suppose I'll have to take your word for it," the Gem murmurs.

What. "What?"

"You know your father pretty well, or at least you know his personality. And you've been nothing short of honest  with me and my Gems. If you think he'll honor the terms, I'll believe you. I won't put you in danger over a stolen secret."

No. This isn't-

This is wrong.

The Diamond makes to stand. "If that's all, you should probably leave before..." There must have been something in the look on his own face, to give the Gem pause. "Is something wrong?"

"I-" Thor's mouth fails him, again, and again the Diamond makes no comment, simply watching and waiting as the prince found his words. "Please. I know that it defies my father. I know that it may be perilous to say. But I must. Someone should know the truth of what happened, I can't just let it all disappear."

"What are you talking about, Thor?"

Just say it.

Say it like he was Father.

(Say it like he was Father, and Father cared to listen.)

And the first secrets fall out of his mouth.

"I was the stray aesir."

Chapter Text

"And you can form your hands into any tool?" the old blacksmith repeats.

"That's right!" Bismuth affirms proudly, changing her hand from a hook to a hammer, smacking it into her other palm. "It's real handy, if I do say so myself. Now, I've been hearing talk about this metal called Scabrite..."

=<>=

"What animal is this?"

Jasper looks at the hulking grey creature in front of her. Matching golden eyes stare each other down from across a field. It flicks its red tongue across its freshly bloodied face, sat down in the fenced enclosure, paws placed possessively over the raw remains of a horned creature torn apart on its behalf.

"That would be a war wolf, lady."

She scratches contemplatively at her scars with a chuffing growl.

"I would like to fight it."

"Er-" the handler looks aside nervously. "-that seems unsound."

"Why? I would win."

"That's not what concerns me."

=<>=

"Excuse me," whispers a blue, willowish lady with sheer flowing clothes. "Could you tell me what animal this is..."

She holds up a rabbit to a very, very confused fisherman.

=<>=

"Just a little Asgardian mead."

"Miss Darcy, you would faint the moment it hit your lips."

"As a treat."

=<>=

"So what does a skald do, in Asgard?"

"Well, my lady, a skald is a keeper. A keeper of stories, songs, histories. One might say that each skald comprises the heart and soul of Asgard, keeping its memory alive." The old, wizened aesir laughs to herself. "But I doubt you'd want to listen to an old crone's tales."

"If you tell me your stories," Connie leans forward, with both reverence and promise, "I will tell them to a thousand worlds."

There might be tears in the aesir's eyes.

=<>=

"Oh, baby! "

"Lord Diamond, wait! Those are extremely dangerous-"

But it was too late. Asteria Diamond was already nuzzling the chariot cats, who all melted under his touch like puppies.

The guard turns back to the Diamond's dark skinned knight.

"You get used to it," she says, like that's any less frightening.

=<>=

"What if we had a staring contest?"

"I would win."

"Ah, but what if I closed each eye out of sync, never blinking?"

Garnet lowers her visor, winking her third eye. "I would still win."

Volstagg's dumbstruck shock face almost drives Hogun to laugh, and the ensuing chaos almost makes Garnet smile.

Almost.

Chapter Text

"How do I look?"

Steven looks up. Pink Pearl stands poised in front of him.

She's wearing a pyrope pink cocktail dress with a sheer halter neck, the gem on her belly accentuated by a lacy belt. Her gloves have gotten just a little shorter- they don't make it past her shoulders anymore.

She only has one bun in her hair now, prim and proper on the back of her head, and it curls like a rose.

Her left eye never recovered.

In it's place, the former spiderweb of porcelain fractures has weaved itself into gilded branches of gold, blossoming with flowers of red and pink across her face.

"You look lovely, Pearl," and he really does mean it.

"Oh, thank you!" her song hums sweetly. "I saw an outfit in a human movie Pearl showed me."

"Breakfast at Tiffany's, right?"

"Oh, yes, that's the one. It was just so lovely. I couldn't resist." She fiddles with her skirt. "So what do you think? Am I dressed for the job?"

"I think you are, Ambassador. Asgard won't know what hit 'em."

.....

Transcript, Diamondside Line.

(The Diamondside Line, when active, transmits to all non-emergency broadcast channels.)

-Asteria Diamond-

...and now, dear Gems. You might have heard that our Earth colony ran into another organic race. As your Diamond, I can freely say it's true. We found new friends in the distant world of Asgard, and its aesir people. These particular organics are pretty long lived for their type, averaging at around 5,000 years, give or take a century. They also have a psychic language, like us! It's pretty fascinating!

 

Asgard is a a sort of... irregularly shaped dwarf planet, it almost looks like a flat world. It's strange that any life evolved there at all, but I guess that's the mystery of life, isn't it? You find it in the most unlikely of places.

 

When our Tāmarai set its sights there, it was beautiful! The polished stone roads, the gilded towers. The palace is right in the heart of the world, and its spires rise like crystal. The lakes shine with starlight, and the forests sing with life.

 

It reminds me of a younger Earth, in a lot of ways.

 

But enough of me and my nostalgia. Here with us today is our new friend Thor Odinson, heir and defender of Asgard. How are we today, prince?

 

-Oh! I- I'm doing rather well, I suppose... (A shuffling sound is heard.) My apologies, I've never done anything like this before.-

 

That's okay! It's always kind of weird at first.

 

-If you say.-

 

I do! Everyone is always learning, y'know? But back on topic. You've been to Earth before, right?

 

-Indeed. My people call it Midgard. My friends and I travelled through those lands once, centuries ago, as adventurers.-

 

I think I remember you being chased off a certain former battlefield by the Crystal Gems.

 

-Ah. (A nervous laugh.) I rather hoped to forget that.-

 

Well, you're always free to come back for another visit. Minus the chased-off-the-ruins-by-angry-Gems part.

 

-I would like that. Midgard has always a fond place in my heart.-

 

It deserves it, honestly. Now, I'd love to hear about one of these "Midgard adventures" of yours...