We're in the Endgame Now | Endgame [2]

Chapter 13

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Irina inhaled a deep breath as she stood at the top of the ramp in the Quinjet, staring at the small Norwegian town —Asgardian, as of a few years ago now— that was now called "New Asgard".

Tønsberg, to be exact, before Thor and his fellow Asgardians moved in.

  The last time she saw Thor, she was a mess and said things she never should have .  .  . all of which she regrets.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"How could you?! I will never forgive you. Never."

After THAT day, on the planet Thanos considered as his "Garden", Irina became a completely different person. A shell of the old Irina Stark. The old-Irina wouldn't recognize this version . . . and neither would Lane.

  Night after night, daydream after daydream, she saw Yelena. One time she was smiling down at Irene, beautiful blonde hair creating a curtain around their faces, shielding them from the world. Another was a memory; in a field at their Ohio Farmhouse, Irene on Lane's back as Fanny walked ahead of them, the sun setting behind them, turning the tall dry grass gold.

  She often dreamt of reuniting with Lane. Irina would bury her face into Lane's neck, smelling that citrus scent she's missed so much.

  Snapping out her thoughts, Danvers asked, "What do you think he's gonna say when he sees you?" The Quinjet was on autopilot, currently flying over the Atlantic Ocean.

  "Honestly?" Irina bit her lip, rolling a quarter with her index finger up the table before she stopped it, and repeated the action. "I don't know. I just hope he didn't take what I said to heart." Her voice grew quiet, "I didn't mean it."

  Replaying the moment in her head, she knew that deep down, a part of her did mean it. "Hey," Danvers bumped her shoulder, "knowing you, I'm sure it'll work out." She shot Irene an assuring smile that the dark-haired woman returned.

  In a few short hours, they arrived at Tønsberg. The Quinjet powered down, and the ramp opened. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No," Irina looked at Carol, "I need to do this alone."

Without missing a beat, Danvers replied, "Okay. I'll be here if you need me. Take as long as you need."

The corner of Irene's lips turned up, and she started the walk to the little town that is "New Asgard"/Tønsberg. The last time she was in Norway, she and Nat were on the run from Secretary Ross, as global fugitives seven years ago.

People stared, Earth-folks and Asgardians —though Irina couldn't tell the difference—, as looked for the God of Thunder. She came to the docks, five or so people unloading boxes off a mildly rusted ship from the salt of the sea.

"You a friend of Thor's?" an accented voice asked. Irene looked to her left. A woman, with dark skin and black hair in tight curls, helping unload the boxes.

"Yes," Irina watched as the woman set a final box on a dolly, and the man behind it rolled it up the path Irina had taken down to the docks. "I'm—"

"I know who you are. You're famous here. On the planet and in the city."

"You call this a city?"