1. The Asgardian Proving
The hall was quiet, heavy with incense from another world. Sif knelt before the fire pit, her white-blond hair damp from training, her bronze armor glinting dimly in the low light. Scars etched across her collarbone spoke of a thousand wars won, and one she hadn't yet fought:
**The battle for her place. At his side.**
Wanda's voice echoed in her memory—sarcastic, but not unkind:
*"You don't have to sleep with him just because everyone else did, you know."*
Sif had turned then, eyes glinting like blades.
"Sleeping has nothing to do with this. I do not bed boys. I honor warriors by sharing breath, blood, and soul."
Then her gaze had softened. *"He fights like Odin's wrath, but he loves like an honest king. Those are rare."*
Tonight, she would offer the Asgardian rite of devotion—the **Vehlkar** tradition. Not conquest. Not lust. A merging of warriors born from the ancient days before even Odin.
She walked down the candle-lit hall to Jon's room, her crimson cloak dropping away as she went.
### **2. Firebound**
Jon stood by the balcony, shirtless, the scars on his back glowing faintly beneath the moon. The mark of the *Wolf and Flame* had started to hum—his inner chaos magic flaring whenever Wanda neared... and now, when Daenerys touched him.
But Sif's arrival brought something *else*.
Balance. Simplicity. A center amid the chaos.
"You are troubled," she said softly.
Jon turned. "Always."
She studied him a moment longer. "Your pain feeds your power. Your guilt tempers your violence. But your soul... it seeks the honor you were never allowed to keep."
She stepped closer. Bare arms touched his chest. He didn't flinch.
"I offer the Vehlkar."
Jon raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"An Asgardian rite. No pledges. No ownership. Just... respect, trust, and fire."
Jon's jaw flexed as her hand touched his chest.
"Will you accept me," she whispered, "as shield and storm?"
He answered in the only language he knew.
He kissed her.
It was not Wanda's seductive warmth or Daenerys's cosmic burn. Sif's love was steel and snow—measured force and tempered passion. He lifted her gently, her legs wrapping around him as she gasped, back pressed to the wall, her hands clutching his forearms as he slid into her like sunrise threading the world.
Later, they lay tangled under fur pelts and open stars.
She didn't ask for more.
But as she rose and left, pride in every step, Jon knew: she would fight by his side until fate ended—or the universe did.
### **3. The Phoenix's Wrath**
Elsewhere in the compound, Daenerys stood before a conjured map of the Earth. Fires flared at faultlines of the multiverse.
"Dormammu is awakening corrupted guardians at every rift."
Wanda floated beside her, red energy streaming through her fingers. "Stephen thinks your resurrection shattered veil-rules between life and cosmic rebirth. Now old demons think you're breach bait."
Dany turned, her violet gaze sharp. "Let them come."
But Wanda leaned in, violet robes falling open slightly.
"They will. But what worries me, Khaleesi..." Her fingers plucked one glowing curl from Dany's loose braid. "...is whether you can accept not being his only queen anymore."
Dany snorted, amused. "I burned a kingdom for his kiss. Now that he's free, I don't intend to hoard him."
"Open-minded Essosi princess," Wanda murmured.
"And you?" Dany asked, eyes flaring.
"Chaos doesn't believe in monogamy," she smirked.
Then Wanda kissed her.
It was a kiss not of conquest or dominance—but of exploration, flirtation. Fireplay. Their magic pulsed against one another for a fraction of a second—dancing like embers too close to kindling. When they parted, both were flushed.
"I'll take that as peace," Dany whispered.
Wanda arched a brow. "It was a promise."
### **4. When Worlds Collapse**
Jon awoke later to alarms.
SHIELD's sensors had detected a reality breach—one far too close.
On the floor of the command deck, Dr. Strange waved his hands furiously above a shifting mirror portal. Inside the image: **Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters—burning.**
But worse... X-Men lay scattered. Not dead. **Changed.**
"What is that?" Wanda gasped. "That's not the School... that's the Ruin."
Stephen nodded grimly. "Dormammu corrupted the psychic heart of the Earth first. One of the X-Men crossed timelines and tore open a tether. And now…" He pointed at the snarling image of a *black-eyed Jean Grey*, swathed in ash.
Jon watched the burning face of Jean Grey twist into shadows—a Phoenix consumed rather than reborn.
Wanda looked to Dany. "There are two hosts now."
Dany clenched her fists. *"Then we burn her before the world breaks."*
Jon tightened his grip on Longclaw's hilt. "No. We don't burn her. We *save* her… or end her cleanly."
Sif entered, axe slung lazily over one shoulder. "You speak like Midgardians. Choose. War or mercy."
Jon turned, eyes tired—but steady.
"We choose both."
### **5. Interlude: Queens and Confessions**
Later that night, Jon found refuge on the tower balcony.
Daenerys approached silently behind him, cloak fluttering. She wore only a silver-threaded gown, her skin pale and marked with comet-light.
"Wanda told me you took Sif into your bed."
He turned, expecting accusation. But her tone was gentle.
"She's strong. Fierce. You honor her by facing her without fear."
Jon swallowed. "I care for her. But you—"
She kissed him again. He stumbled back into the wall, her hands gripping his sides. Lust crackled like fire meeting ice.
"And Wanda?" she murmured against his throat.
He smiled slightly. "Witch. Wolf. Warrior."
Dany grinned. "Then we'll all learn to hold you... together."
And when Wanda stepped into view—robes already falling—there were no words.
Just heat.