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When this mission of charging through realities began, Eli Paravich knew precious little of Svalin Thorsdottir. He knew of her people, the Asgardians and how they had worked alongside the Eternals on various occasions to save the world that their peoples mutually called home.

He knew that Svalin was a fierce warrior and that she could be as unyielding as the icy lands of Polaria.

What he did not know was that it would take him nearly a year to know her, but only moments to fall in love with her. They spent evenings talking about all of the things that they could and would do with their lives, since they both had more time than anyone else on the team, save Iason, to enjoy them.

The mutual affection they shared for Vernique was another bonding point, but what drew him to her most was her passion for battle and for being worthy of her people. Eli found, under Svalin's tutelage, that he also enjoyed battle in all its forms.

Even when she is kicking his ass all over the Avengers' Training Room, like she is right now.

The point of her sword lands at his throat for the 150th time in three days. During this three-day cycle, they have not slept, have barely eaten, and only speak to taunt each other.

"Doth thou yield, Friend Eli?" Svalin asks with a wicked smile. Eli isn't sure when it happened, but Svalin not only learned to jest, but she did it with surprising aplomb. Vernique's influence has paid dividends, bringing out another side of the warrior woman that is playful and charming, with a vulnerability that belies her great strength.

"I yield this round, Friend Svalin. On to the next. However, I think that this time...we shall make a wager. If you defeat me, I will groom and feed Tryggvi for three months.

If I defeat you, I choose my prize." Eli says, offering his hand to shake and seal the deal.

Svalin's eyes narrow, considering what Eli might ask her for. He would not dare ask for her her steed, or her sword. She is certain of two things: that Eli is crafty and that he is up to something. Still, the idea of a Polarian prince cleaning up after a horse is an amusing sight in her mind. She grips his hand firmly, then steps back and salutes with her sword.

The two of them stare each other down from a few feet away...and then they lunge at each other again.

Six hours later, the point of Eli's sword is at Svalin's throat, and a bright grin settles on his face, as if he's won the event that the humans call the lottery.

"Thou hast won in fair combat, Prince of Polaria. What prize doth thou claim from this the Shield of Asgard?" Svalin asks.

"Come closer and I shall tell you, Friend Svalin." Eli teases.