Continuing Tales

Fallen Star

A Marvel Movieverse Story
by Alydia Rackham

Part 24 of 27

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"Out of the island, into the highway
Past the places where you might have turned
You never did notice, but you still hide away
Anger of angels who won't return

He's everything you want, he's everything you need
He's everything inside of you that you wish you could be
He says all the right things at exactly the right time
But he means nothing to you, and you don't know why…"

-Vertical Horizon

Jane wrapped her hand around Thor's bent forearm and took a deep, deep breath. Her lungs filled with the scent of the sea—

And a brisk ocean breeze rushed through her hair and long pink dress. She strode alongside Thor in the bright morning light, straight down the center of the Asbru bridge. Pillars anchored the bridge in place, plunging down through the gray, frothing ocean, and above each pillar, a bronze arch rose. Jane and Thor passed beneath one such towering arch, and its shadow crossed them. The ocean roared against the rocks on either side, and she could hear the trill of the gulls as they swept and flitted overhead, and under the bridge. She glanced down, and let out a soft laugh. The bridge did indeed look like a rainbow—a rainbow-faceted carpet of jewels. And with each step they took, the bridge lit up around their feet, and rang softly. Thor glanced down at her and grinned. She returned the smile, her eyes lingering on him a moment as he faced forward.

Thor, wearing blue, princely garb, just seemed to tower over her. His majestic golden head and broad shoulders caught the sunlight. But as she thought about it, Fenris—Loki—wasn't much shorter than Thor. Perhaps he just didn't stride the way Thor did, with his back straight and his head up. Fenris…Loki…always seemed to have been tilted toward her, looking down at her, listening to her…

She ducked her head, her smile fading.

The two of them made slow progress, for though the twinge in her muscles was almost gone, she still felt a little tired. And as they walked, the sea twisting and foaming, they seemed to leave the bright sunshine behind them…

And the blue of the sky blended into darkness.

Or rather…

The sky gracefully pulled back so she could see heaven.

"Oh…" Jane breathed, and couldn't get anything else out. For past the edge of the deep purple atmosphere, a vast expanse of unadulterated space opened up above them.

In a limitless field of the deepest black she'd ever seen, there swirled and twinkled and winked and pulsed hundreds of galaxies, thousands of nebula, and billions of stars. Some stars looked like black velvet had been punctured to let in the blinding light from paradise. Some galaxies looked like a ripple on silver water, or clouds turned blue or green or purple. And some nebula appeared to be the paint-covered fingerprints of an artist accidentally brushing his canvas. All of it glowed and shimmered, raining soft, multicolored light down upon them.

Jane could hardly breathe—and she felt like crying. But she clung to Thor's arm, and drank it all in without saying a word.

At long last, a fervent rushing sound brought her back down to terra firma—and she realized with a start that just ahead of them, the ocean ceased, and plunged downward in an alarming, stomach-dropping waterfall—and at the end of the bridge, there was nothing but space. If she wished, she could have raced to the edge and dived off, and fallen through the stars.

She frowned as she and Thor drew closer to the end, and she caught sight of a very tall man in golden armor and a horned helmet, holding a broadsword point-down in front of him. He stood with his back to them.

"Who is that?" she whispered to Thor.

"This is Heimdall," Thor said in a regular voice. "The gatekeeper of Asgard."

"Good morning, my prince," a deep, smooth voice answered. "Good morning, Lady Jane."

Thor drew her up close to Heimdall, though she tightened her grip and winced, eyeing that jagged edge.

"Come," Thor chuckled. "I'll not let you fall."

"But you can fall," Jane said, studying the jagged edges. "There's nothing to pull you back if you do, is there?"

"No, you are right," Thor said, his voice quieter. "You can fall."

"Is there something you wish to ask me, my prince?" Heimdall asked.

"I'd like you to show Lady Jane what you can do," Thor said, reaching down and taking hold of Jane's hand, and leading her up to the edge.

"Thor…" she protested, her heart pounding. Heimdall, now right next to her left, turned toward her. She blinked. He had golden eyes.

"What do you wish to see?" he asked her, his voice vibrating her bones.

"What? What do you mean?" Jane asked, trying not to get dizzy because of the boundless drop just feet away.

"I can see anything—anything in all the realms, that exists in this moment," Heimdall answered.

"Anything," Jane repeated.

"Ask him something," Thor suggested, clearly enjoying himself. "Ask him to look for something you've lost."

"But…" Jane shot Thor a glance. "On Earth? Midgard?" she corrected.

"Yes," Thor said, his eyes twinkling. She cleared her throat, and turned back to Heimdall, keeping a death grip on Thor's hand.

"I…Um, a month or two ago, I went to put on a pair of earrings," she offered feebly. "They were my mother's. But I couldn't find one. They—"

"They are gold, bearing small emeralds. The lost one is under your wooden dresser," Heimdall told her. "In the back near the wall, to the right hand side."

Jane's mouth fell open. Thor laughed in delight.

"Now turn around," Thor instructed, motioning to Heimdall. "Turn around and tell her about something in Asgard."

Heimdall paused for a moment, then brought his great form around to face the towering spires of the palace, gleaming in the sunlight. Jane did the same, though she felt uneasy about turning her back to the abyss.

"Ask," Thor prodded.

"I…I don't know!" Jane laughed. "I didn't come with much, and I know where everything is, except—" Her heart thudded, but the word fell out of her mouth before she knew it.

"Loki." She glanced up at Heimdall. "Can you…Can you see Loki?"

"Yes," Heimdall replied, a small smile on his lips. "He is out of the sun—but that is all I know."

"Why?" Jane asked.

"Because he is hiding himself from me," Heimdall told her. "Which he has often done these past days. It is a rare talent, but I do not begrudge him his solitude. For as I watch, no mischief follows in his wake."

Jane's heart felt like it had skipped a beat, and as a result now beat unevenly. She gripped Thor's hand hard—Thor had gone silent. But when she turned and looked at him, his bright eyes just watched her.

The two of them stayed a few minutes longer, discussing Heimdall's old duties when the gate had stood at the edge of the sea—though Jane found it hard to pay attention. After bidding him farewell, they headed back up the Asbru bridge, toward the sparkling city, and this time, Jane could smell flowers on the wind that blew from the land.

"I thought I would take you around the grounds this morning," Thor said. "And then, when it gets too hot in the afternoon, I will show you inside the palace."

Jane nodded.

"Sounds good," she said, trying to shake off the heavy feeling in her chest—the feeling that seemed so similar to disappointment.


"This…this is amazing," Jane shook her head as they stepped through an archway in a stone wall, onto a narrow path that meandered through dozens of sunlit, shoulder-high rose bushes, all in full bloom.

"I've never seen so many roses!" she exclaimed, pulling away from Thor and turning to cup a flawless Maiden's Blush rose in both hands. Thor kept walking a ways, then stopped and glanced back at her.

"Watch out. Asgardian roses bite," he warned.

"So do Midgardian roses," Jane retorted, bending down to smell it. Her knees went weak. "Oh! Oh my goodness!" Jane closed her eyes and drew in another breath. "I've never smelled anything like that. I can almost taste it."

"Please don't," Thor teased. She shot him a mock glare. He chuckled.

"Come on—this is the fastest way to the monuments. And this is no different than the tulip garden or the other garden," he beckoned to her. "Whatever that one was before the tulips."

"Daffodil," Jane reminded him, reluctantly leaving the perfect pale-pink rose to walk up beside him again. "And it is different. You could almost drown in the smell of these."

Thor shook his head.

"That would be a terrible fate."

"You don't like flowers?" Jane asked him. He shrugged as they rounded a bend, entering into a forest of roses red as blood.

"They look well on a table," he said. "But other than that..." He shrugged again.

"When I was getting my masters in astrophysics," Jane said, trailing her hand through the delicate blooms. "I took a horticulture class, just for fun, and we learned all about Victorian flower language."

Thor frowned at her.

"What is that?"

"During the reign of a certain Midgardian queen, it was fashionable to send messages with flowers," she explained. "Each one had a special meaning."

"Such as?"

"Well…" Jane glanced around. "Roses. A dozen red roses means 'congratulations.' But a single red rose means 'I love you.'"

"How did they keep them straight?" Thor asked.

"Looked it up," she replied. "Or they just memorized them—it's easy enough to…" She trailed off as a low door to their right, overhung with ivy, caught her eye. She slowed. The wooden door hung slightly ajar…

And through it, lit by a dappled pattern of sunlight, shone a mysterious glimmer of colors.

She left Thor, and ducked toward the wooden entrance and pushed it aside. The hinges were silent.

"Jane?" Thor's voice sounded startled, but she ignored him. She stepped through…

Into a small, cool, mostly-shaded garden unlike any she had ever seen.

Weeping willows hugged the walls, deep green ivy covered the stone, and ferns crowded the shade. The paved path meandered and split in a dozen different directions, and two multi-tiered fountains glittered and sang in the rare patches of sunlight. A great black rock stood in the center of the garden, in a little plaza—right in the center of the only place that provided full sun. And all around it, arranged in an intricate but controlled-wilderness-like manner, grew more kinds of flowers than Jane had ever seen.

"Incredible," Jane breathed. She heard Thor come up behind her.

"Jane…" he called again, but she was captivated.

"See, okay, here's another example," she said, stepping forward to touch a brilliant Azalea bloom. "This means 'I am true to the end.' And this…" She hurried around a bend, picking up her skirt as she went, and leaned down to cradle a vibrant red carnation. "This means 'my heart aches for you.'"

"Who thought of that sentimental nonsense?" Thor asked, walking up to her, then a little past her. She straightened, watching him sweep his gaze through the whole garden.

"Not all of it is sentimental. Some can be useful," Jane said. "Some flowers mean 'danger,' or 'no,' or 'dance with me?' or…" She stopped as her gaze landed on a particular patch of long-stemmed beauties. She slipped past Thor, and stepped up to a vibrant group of broad-petaled white flowers. She cupped one in her hands and studied the bright yellow center, and the single red dot that adorned each petal.

"This is a gum cistus," she said softly. "Which means 'I shall die tomorrow.'"

"So one gives this when one is sick?" Thor questioned.

"No," Jane rolled her eyes, then stroked the petals with her thumb. "This one is sentimental." She took a slow breath. "It's not literal, it's in your heart."

Thor gave a hearty, dismissive laugh.

"It's romantic," Jane stated, still gazing at the flower. "It's a lost art, really—like letter-writing, and sending poetry. I think people were generally just more romantic in the old days, especially when they had a lot of time to…" She paused, then realized that Thor had left her side. She straightened, let go of the flower, and frowned at him. He was standing a good way off, squinting up at the sky.

"You're not listening to me," Jane accused. She started toward him. "What are you looking at?"

"I was just hoping it doesn't rain. The clouds look like it might," he said.

"Why would that matter?" Jane asked.

"Hogun and Volstaag are going to be sparring soon, and I wanted you to see them—it'll be a real show." Thor grinned down at her. She allowed herself to smile, and nodded, but she cast a wistful glance back at the rest of the garden.

"I wish I could stay a little bit longer," she sighed.

"We actually shouldn't be in here," Thor said, taking hold of her hand and gently pulling her along the path. "This is Loki's garden—only family comes in, once in a while."

Jane's pulse skyrocketed.

"Wh…It's his?"

"Yes," Thor nodded. "Not even a gardener is allowed in here—he does this all himself. And the flowers change all the time, to suit his mood."

Jane slowed her pace, resisting Thor a little as they walked, gazing back again at the countless flowers.

And then she looked up at the palace, which towered right beside…

And she caught sight of a familiar window.

"Thor?" she tugged on him, and he stopped.


She pointed upward.

"Are those…I think those are my curtains," she realized. "There, on the third story. Is that my room?"

"Yes," he nodded. "The Cosmos Room?"

"Yes," Jane said, her eyes fixed on it.

"Good," Thor decided, taking her hand again. "You can look at this garden all you want from up there." He turned and gave her another brilliant smile. "Now we need to hurry—before the clouds come and ruin the day!"


"I think I am sunburned," Jane decided, glancing down at her bare arms. She and Thor strode down a broad alabaster hallway with marble floors and an arching ceiling that towered higher than any tree.

It had not rained on them—the clouds had cleared off, leaving a perfectly beautiful early afternoon behind, and she had watched Hogun and Volstaag spar, which had been a spectacular sight. But all the while, Jane had to keep chiding herself to stop thinking about that garden.

Now, she explored the palace with Thor. They had already seen the awe-inspiring throne room, and the feasting hall, and now they headed toward the upper floors. Thor wanted to show her a tower that he and Fandral had once scaled down.

They traipsed up and up, taking their time, Thor telling stories all the while as Jane marveled at the sky-scraping architecture, fantastic statues and brilliant, majestic banners.

Finally, they reached the heights of the palace, and followed a long, narrow corridor toward the light of a balcony at the very end.

"You see, Fandral and I had a wager," Thor was saying, gesturing as they walked. "That he could beat me down from the tallest point in Asgard to the lowest point—beneath the water, you see—without breaking his neck."

Jane laughed, keeping stride with him.

"And so the two of us came up here, without the knowledge of my father, of course, and we harnessed ourselves, with ropes, to the pillars…"

Jane slowed, Thor's voice fading into the background. And she stopped in front of another door that hung a little bit open.

"What's this?" she asked. Thor, several strides down the hall, halted.

"Er…I don't…"

She stepped toward it, and pushed on the black wood of the door. It yielded. And when she stepped inside, what she saw took her breath away.

It was a large, dome-shaped chamber with a hole in the center of the ceiling. Sunlight poured down into the room…

And flashed on the surface of a broad, glassy-smooth, circular pool of water. The walls of the pool, made of polished marble, stood waist high. All around the pool, dozens of tables waited, stacked with books, scrolls, and papers—as well as metal compasses, marking and measuring tools, paperweights…

"Oh, I remember," Thor said, finally entering behind her. "I never come up here. But we call it Loki's Looking Glass." He pointed to the pool. "See—the pool reflects the sky, and he uses it—"

"To study the stars," Jane finished, stepping closer. "I've heard of it—ancient civilizations used this technique…" She trailed around the pool, once again wishing it was night so that she could study the stars uninhibited, without even having to strain her neck…

She turned, and walked past the tables, leaning over the charts and maps laid out there, her fingers itching to pick them up and look at them—but she didn't dare.

And then she stopped. She lifted her head, and her mouth fell open.

In front of her stood a broad, oaken bookshelf stuffed with leather-bound tomes.

"What are these?" she gasped.

"Loki has been writing down all of his observations and discoveries," Thor answered from across the room. "He's been doing that since I can remember. I think each volume talks about an individual Asgardian constellation, but I'm not sure."

Jane had to wrap her arms around herself to keep from pulling the first one right off the shelf.

And then she caught sight of something else.

Next to the shelf perched a small desk, like the ones monks used to illuminate manuscripts. Up in the top left hand corner sat an inkwell, with a long raven feather quill sticking out of it. On the desk's small writing surface lay another book, its front cover open.

And on the first page, in careful, strong strokes of black ink, had been written:

The Constellations of Midgard

Jane couldn't resist anymore. She reached out and lifted the top page, and gazed down at the pristine, even writing beneath. And her gaze snagged on a middle paragraph.

Pleiades means 'seven sisters.' It is an open star cluster blue stars. The Pleiades rests in the middle of the Taurus constellation, and it is one of the nearest star clusters to Midgard—or Earth, as it is called by those who live there.

Jane pulled her hand back. The top page silently fell back down to cover the second page. She trembled, and swallowed hard as a white-hot memory flashed through her mind.

"That was quick of you. I must think of a better one."

"That isn't fair. It's my turn."

"Oh—I defy you to give me a riddle I don't already know."


She blinked, and turned back to Thor—who was watching her with real concern. She forced a smile.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I'm…I'm coming." And she skirted the star pool and came back to him, and together they stepped through the door…

But not before Jane glanced back at the pool, and the shelf, and the book that lay open on the desk.


Jane made herself smile as Volstaag reached the climax of his loudly-told, humorous story and the whole, long table of courtiers burst out laughing. Jane turned back to her golden plate, which was filled with delicious-looking fruits, buttered bread, smoked pheasant and fresh vegetables. She took her thin knife and prodded the vegetables. She wasn't hungry at all.

"What's wrong?" Thor asked, coming down off of his laughter and turning toward her. She looked up. Thor sat right across from her, to Odin's right. She sat to Odin's left, and Fandral, who was still laughing at the story, sat to her left.

"Nothing," Jane said quickly. "I'm just a little tired."

Thor's brow furrowed and he leaned toward her.

"Would you like me to escort you to your room?"

"No," Jane gave him another weak smile—she hoped it fooled him. "No, I'm fine."

Thor watched her for another moment, so she forced herself to pick up a piece of mango and eat it. Satisfied, he turned to his father and began telling him about Volstaag and Hogun's feats that afternoon. And for the fiftieth time since dinner had begun in that great, golden hall, Jane's eyes fell upon the untouched, perfectly-arranged, empty place next to Thor.

She knew who was supposed to sit there. Everyone else in Asgard that she had met—Eir, the other healers, Odin, the Warriors Three, Frigg—all sat at this table, talking and eating happily. But not the second-born prince.

Jane reached with a slightly-trembling hand for her goblet of water, and took a slow drink—and for the forty-ninth time, her gaze strayed down the table to find Lady Sif, who just stared down at her full plate of food. She wore a simple, modest blue gown, and her hair was bound up—and she looked about the way Jane felt. She just wasn't trying to hide it.

Past Thor, movement caught Jane's attention. She jerked and stopped breathing. A tall, dark man strode into the hall from the corridor—

Her eyes focused. He had a beard, and was much too old.

It wasn't him.

She let out a shaking breath, frowning and scolding herself. Every single time someone had come into the room, her heart clenched and she felt herself turn to ice. There was no way she could eat any more. She folded her hands in her lap, biting her lip, considering leaning toward Odin and asking him to excuse her…

"I wonder where Loki has got to," Odin said, cutting up his meat. "He hasn't sat down to dinner with us even one time since he's been back."

Jane's stomach instantly turned nervous and sick.

"I haven't seen him—I've been with Jane all day," Thor answered, smiling at her. "Though I ate breakfast with him yesterday. Well," Thor shrugged. "ate. I don't think he even touched what was on his plate."

"I walked with him this morning in the orchard," Odin said. "He said he keeps mostly to his Looking Glass and his chambers, but I've found it hard to catch him at either place."

"I saw him this afternoon," Fandral inserted.

"And what did you say?" Thor demanded, leveling a severe look at him. Fandral held up his hands.

"Don't worry—I remembered your threat vividly. I was very polite to him," Fandral's brow furrowed. "Though when I saw him, I didn't really feel inclined to be otherwise. The poor fellow looked quite done up. Doesn't he sleep?"

Odin shook his head and took a bite.

"No, not much, I don't believe. The servants haven't had to make his bed once—and I've seen him on more than one occasion out in his garden very late at night."

Jane clamped her cold hands together underneath the table, feeling faint. She lifted her face, and was just about to open her mouth to take Thor up on his earlier offer—


She jumped, and turned to her right. A small pageboy stood at her shoulder.


"The queen wishes to see you, Miss," the page said. "Just there, on the balcony."

Jane turned, and looked through a tall doorway to an ivory-colored balcony, half lit by torchlight and half lit by moonlight. There, leaning on the railing, stood Frigg—who gazed back into Jane's eyes.

"All right. Thank you," Jane said, slid out and got up, and strode as quickly and as inconspicuously as she could behind all of the courtiers.

Once she left the circle of light, and stepped out into the dark and the evening air, she could breathe a little easier. She slowed down as she came up next to the gentle queen.

"Good evening, Lady Jane," Frigg smiled at her. Jane nodded to her.

"Good evening, ma'am."

"Come stand next to me," she beckoned. Jane hesitated, then did as she asked, approaching and leaning on the railing. She glanced up.

The black sky was riddled with stars, and the whirling galaxies and nebula she had seen before—all breathtakingly beautiful and glittering like jewels. The sight of them sent an unexplained pang shooting from the base of her throat down through her chest. She bowed her head, so she could only see the shadowed grounds below.

"Lady Jane, there is something I must tell you," Frigg said quietly. "Not as a queen, but as a fellow woman, and as a mother."

Jane glanced up. Frigg's warm eyes watched her, but her expression was solemn.

"Yes?" Jane asked quietly, brow tightening.

"It is all over Asgard that my son Thor plans to wed you," Frigg said. "I'm afraid your dramatic arrival created quite a stir—and news of every move the two of you make spreads like wildfire even to the outlying villages."

Jane's muscles went taut. Frigg sighed, and watched her hand as she ran her fingertips across the stone.

"There is nothing worse than a rumor," Frigg stated. "It breeds false assumptions, that it then poisons with uncertainty." Frigg met Jane's eyes. "Which is why I have urged Thor to propose to you tomorrow morning."

"He—" Jane started, though she hardly knew what to say.

"Hear me out," Frigg held up a hand. "I am not implying that you should accept or refuse him. I merely wish everything between you to be defined and announced as soon as possible, so that this mindless chatter throughout the kingdom can cease—regardless of the outcome. Speculation can prove to be a wicked sword, hurtful to many."

Jane gulped, her hands shivering.

"I just wanted you to know his plans—though you must not let on that I told you," Frigg advised. "It's simply that I don't believe a woman should be utterly surprised by a proposal. It isn't fair. And…" Frigg looked at her pointedly. "I wanted to give you the night to consider his coming offer. Marriage to Thor would bring you happiness, I am certain, and children, and the status and longevity of an Aesir. But it would also mean you would someday be queen—and that would bring you tremendous responsibility." Frigg paused, and her voice lowered. "There is also your heart to consider. I have no doubt that this has all been very sudden and overwhelming for you. But if it is at all possible, I would urge you to quiet yourself tonight, organize your thoughts…" Frigg reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Jane's ear, and smiled. "And find out, regardless of other people's wishes or expectations, what it is that will make you truly happy."

For a long time, Jane could look nowhere but at Frigg, as the queen's words turned over and over in her head. Finally, Jane managed to take a breath.

"Does…Who else knows that Thor is…is planning to ask me to marry him?"

"The family," Frigg answered glancing back into the hall. "And Thor's closest friends. But they have all been bound to silence, by Odin's request. Your official choice, tomorrow, is the only thing we wish to be made public."

Jane stared out over the gardens, unable to see them. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Are you tired?" Frigg asked. Jane's brow tensed and her lip trembled—she nodded.

"I will have Thor take you up to your room. Come," Frigg said, drawing near to her, sliding her arm around her waist, and leading her back into the warmth of the feasting hall.


Jane didn't talk as she held onto Thor's arm while they quietly strolled up toward her room. Thor's broad hand rested on top of hers, and he didn't speak. She leaned against him—a tall, strong, warm anchor. She stared at the floor.

Finally, they arrived at her threshold, and she let go of him and turned the brass handle on the door. The door eased open.

"Thank you," she murmured, barely glancing at him. "Goodnight."


She stopped, and looked up at him. He hesitated, his blue eyes watchful, a half smile on his face.

"May I call on you tomorrow, midmorning, here?" he asked. "There is something particular I'd like to ask you."

"Oh," Jane's eyebrows went up as her heart skipped a beat. She forced her face to show nothing. "Yes," she nodded. "Yes, that would be fine."

"All right," his smile broadened. "Goodnight." And he caught up her hand, and kissed her knuckles. Jane watched him. He squeezed her fingers, met her eyes one more time, then let her go. She managed a small smile, then turned and entered her room, shut her door, and leaned back against it.

Jane let out a deep, shuddering breath, then glanced around. Several lamps had been lit, and a couple candles, warming the deep green and silver room, but leaving shadows in the corners. The curtains had also been drawn, hiding the balcony.

Wearily, she stepped toward the wardrobe, planning to put on her nightgown and climb right into that huge, soft bed and curl up tight.

A flame off to her left flickered when she moved. She paused, and glanced at it.

A single candle had been lit on her vanity.

The tall helmet with curved horns, sitting where it always had, gleamed softly in its light.

And lying right next to the face of it, on the flawless wood, was a white flower.

Jane gasped, her heart pounding. She took half a step, stopped, then took three more steps closer.

She tilted her head, eyes wide, to see it better.

The candle lit up the five soft white petals, the yellow center, and the deep red dots that marked each petal like a drop of blood.

A cistus.

Her hands flew to her throat. A deep, strangled sob tore through her, and she clapped her right hand over her mouth.

Her legs failed her, and she sank down onto the vanity stool, then doubled over, grabbing the edge of the table with a shaking hand. Tears burned her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut and fought to keep her cries silent. But they fought her, and her entire body trembled and shook. Her hand closed into a fist as she lifted her face, and her clouded eyes swept over every detail of the helmet and the flower that lay beside it, each so flawless and soft in the candlelight.

Gasping and choking, she took her quivering hand down from her mouth and stretched it out to the flower. Her quaking fingertips touched the delicate petals, even as she battled for breath and tears dripped from her chin. Then, she dared to lift her hand, and barely touch the cold forehead of the helmet.

A brief, stifled wail of pain ripped through her as she bent her head and laid it on the vanity, her hand falling down to rest on the flower, her left arm wrapped hard around her middle.

Fallen Star

A Marvel Movieverse Story
by Alydia Rackham

Part 24 of 27

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