Radioactive | Bucky Barnes

THOR 2: CHAPTER THREE

The halls of the palace shimmered with warm, golden light as Sif guided Rhiley through the winding paths, their boots clicking against polished marble. Outside the windows, the city of Asgard sprawled beneath a sky painted in rich hues of violet and gold.

"So," Rhiley said, eyeing the towering archways and cascading gardens, "what's the Yelp rating on this place? Because it's definitely giving Eternal Warrior Paradise."

Sif smiled as they turned a corner, revealing a courtyard where flowering trees bloomed around statues carved from what looked like starlight. "Five stars—if you enjoy the occasional realm-wide war and having your ale delivered in tankards bigger than your head."

Rhiley snorted. "Oh, I do love giant cups of alcohol I can barely lift. Feels like a personal challenge."

"Remind me to take you to the training halls after," Sif said, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You can earn your ale."

Rhiley mock groaned. "I just got out of mind control and interdimensional trauma. Can't I have one day of sightseeing without a surprise workout?"

"No promises," Sif teased. "But I'll let you skip shield drills... for now."

They paused at a wide balcony that overlooked the Bifrost. The shimmering rainbow bridge stretched out like a ribbon of light, humming softly with raw, endless power.

Rhiley leaned on the railing, her voice dropping to something quieter. "You know... I never thought I'd see anything like this. Asgard always felt like one of those fairy tales people tell you just to make you feel better. A myth to believe in when the world's falling apart." She looked out into the city, "I went from the 40s to this. It's still unimaginable sometimes."

Sif glanced over at her, thoughtful. "And yet, here you are."

"Dragged here against my will," Rhiley quipped, but the humor faded into something gentler. "But yeah. Here I am."

The breeze tugged at her hair, carrying the scent of some unfamiliar blossoms. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Sif studied her—scarred, fierce, but carrying something fractured behind her steady gaze.

"You're not what I expected," Sif said finally.

Rhiley arched an eyebrow. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"A good thing," Sif said simply. "Thor's stories didn't do you justice."

Rhiley blinked. "He talked about me?"

"More than you'd think," Sif replied. "He said you had fire—real fire. That you were reckless, loyal, and smarter than you let on."

Rhiley laughed softly, looking away. "Alarmingly accurate. Though... I don't think he knew how literal the fire thing was until New York."

They left the balcony and moved down toward the lower levels of the palace, where the city streets fanned out beyond the royal grounds.

"And what about you?" Rhiley asked, bumping Sif's shoulder playfully. "Got any good, embarrassing Thor stories? Or is that punishable by hammer?"

Sif smirked. "Let's just say he once mistook a training dummy for an enemy while half-asleep—and declared war on it wearing nothing but his nightclothes."

Rhiley clutched her stomach, laughing. "Stop it. I need evidence."

"There may or may not be a sketch I made the next morning."

"I need to see it," Rhiley gasped dramatically.

Sif gave her a sideways glance, obviously enjoying the reaction. "Maybe... if you survive the arena later."