The Dark World | Book 3

Twenty-Five: Scepter's Curse

As the Avengers gathered around the dinner table, the atmosphere felt tense despite the comfort of Clint and Laura's cozy farmhouse. The smell of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and freshly baked bread filled the room, but the weight of the mission at hand dampened any real enjoyment.

Sigyn sat at the far end of the table, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of her glass. Her face was unreadable, but the faint tightening of her jaw hinted at her impatience. She glanced around at the others, watching as they took their seats, each settling into the moment with varying degrees of tension.

Clint, ever the host, tried to ease the mood. "So, everyone ready for a normal, peaceful dinner? No alien invasions, no robots trying to kill us?"

Tony raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You had to jinx it, Barton."

Lila and Cooper sat at the children's end of the table, their giggles and whispers providing a stark contrast to the silence of the adults. Natasha leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, while Steve sat stiffly, his focus split between his plate and the occasional glance toward Sigyn.

Fury was the last to join, a plate piled high with food in one hand, a grim look on his face. He sat down, taking a long breath before cutting into his meal, but it was clear his mind was anywhere but dinner.

Laura, sensing the unease, tried to keep things light. "So, anyone have a non-work story? I feel like we could use a break from all the... world-saving."

Clint nodded, backing her up. "Yeah, I've got a story about the time I—"

"Why are we pretending everything is normal?" Sigyn cut in, her voice sharper than intended, but there was no stopping the edge of her frustration now. "We are sitting here, eating dinner, while a creature bent on destruction roams free. What are we even doing?"

The room fell silent. Forks hovered mid-air, and even the children's laughter faded. Tony was the first to break the awkward pause, setting his utensils down with a soft clang. "We're eating because we need to think. You can't fight on an empty stomach, Sigyn."

Her eyes narrowed. "Fighting isn't the problem. It's the way you all blindly rush into these things, tampering with forces beyond your understanding. And now you're doing it again."

Banner, who had been silent up to this point, looked down at his plate, visibly uncomfortable. "We're not blind, Sigyn. We know the risks. We're trying to stop Ultron, just like you are."

Sigyn's gaze flicked toward him. "Then stop acting like everything is fine. You created this, didn't you? All of this chaos. The world doesn't need protecting by forces like Ultron—or your ill-thought attempts at control."

"Hey, it's not like we meant for any of this to happen," Tony snapped, clearly taking the criticism personally.

Sigyn's eyes flashed, her patience fraying further. "And yet, here we are. Again."

Laura cleared her throat gently, trying to diffuse the tension. "Why don't we just... enjoy dinner, and afterward, we can talk about—"

"Enjoy dinner?" Sigyn interrupted, her tone incredulous. She looked at each Avenger, her frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "We should be strategizing, planning—not sitting here, pretending the world, that Asgard is charged with protecting, isn't falling apart." 

The words of warning that Frigga spoke to her ran through her mind. The world on fire...

Steve finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. "We need this, Sigyn. A moment to collect ourselves. We'll be no use to anyone if we run ourselves into the ground."