AN: I own none of the characters from this fic. I watched Ragnarok recently (I know, I'm behind the times) and found myself really annoyed with the portrayal of Fenrir. Hel was amazing as a evil goddess, but Fenrir has always been my favorite Norse god/demigod/giant and I was hoping to see more development for him than a mindless monster.
"He's my brother."
The red-haired agent keeps her face blank, but there is something like pity and disgust in her eyes as she reminds the Aesir, "He killed eighty people in three days."
The Aesir has the nerve to look ashamed. "He's adopted," he offers as a feeble excuse.
Fen growls from the almost-there plane we watch from. Jor shoots him a chiding glance, but the Aesir has already heard. "Show yourself," Thor orders.
My brothers glare at the god's demands. Fen, always short of temper, steps forward fully into the realm of Midgard. "Uncle," he snarls. The godling flinches. Whoever has written of Fen's rage and mindless savagery has never met him, for he twists words so easily in the way of our father. Already with one word he has the upper hand.
Jor moves into the open beside him. "Oh, I'm so sorry," he hisses. Slit-pupiled eyes widen in faux innocence. "Are you our uncle now? You have disowned our father so many times. But then," he hesitates and Fen takes over.
"But then you always seem to need him again," he snarls. "So tell us, are we weapons or embarrassments today?"
"Whyever are we not both," I muse. My words, unlike my brothers', are not calculated to hurt. They are simply the truth. Sometimes, though, the truth is a weapon of itself whether it is meant to be or not. I know, however, it is not my words which make the mortals flinch. My brothers may pass for human, despite Jor's eyes and the brazen other of Fen. I cannot. A human with my face, one side burnt to the skull, would be dead.
The assassin recovers first. I smile at her. Blood on her hands and half a foot in my realm already. Yet she ties herself to the living with the fierceness of Fenrir's wolf-kin. Whoever named her spider was mistaken. Once cornered, a spider is easily crushed. This mortal not so. "Your father is Loki," she states.
Jor inclines his head, eyes already on the one they call the Captain. It was into his waters the Captain fell, his domain. Jor watched him and kept the ice from him completely for 70 years. For immortals we are young, and Jor grows attached easily. The captain, in his turn, seems not at all inclined to peace.
"Have you come to free him," he demands. "If you have, you go through us." Jor keeps the hurt from his face, but Fen always knows.
"Easy enough," he states.
Thor takes offense now. "I will not be so easy," he challenges.
"Not what the legends say," Jor murmurs under his breath. Fen snickers at the same moment as one of the mortals. The inventor. The one who hides the monster within his skin has a slight smile at the sally. I would scold him for antagonizing the godling, but to be honest, I don't care. Our uncle's ego has always been fragile and his mockery has gained him the curiosity, at least, of two of his allies. Humans always were odd things.
"So," the inventor leers, "Loki actually did get it on with a giantess. Is the horse one true too? Because, I have to say, that must make one hell of a story."
All of us stiffen. "You find amusement in our birth," I ask him. My brother Jor has gone cold as his icy seas, but I am ruler of colder realms still and it shows in my voice. "Have you ever read your myths, human?"
"Sister," Jor warns. "This is not productive."
"Worth it," Fen snarls. There is a cry for blood in his voice. More than there should be, for an unthinking jest. Not from the inventor, who hides the joy of fire and vengeance in his heart. Not for the mortal Fen saw break in Afghanistan, the one whose victory flames he fanned ever higher until the inventor's allies found him. For all they call our father the god of lies, they forget he was the god of fire first.
"There is something playing with our emotions," I murmur to my brothers. They frown, drawing closer. The mortals have weapons drawn and Thor holds his hammer, ready for battle. "Something powerful enough and malevolent enough to warp gods."
The man who hides the monster jumps. "The spear," he calls. He darts over to a table in the back of the room and picks it up. "Don't you see, this is what Loki used to brainwash those men on the security footage. It has to be able to, to get in our brains, make us angry."
"Even without someone to wield it physically." Fenrir looks as though he wants to cower from the spear, though he stands tall. "Something that twists the minds of any it encounters towards the need for destruction. That is an infinity stone!" He is growling now. Jor and I step between the mortals and our brother. More specifically, between Fen and Thor.
"Get rid of it," I say. "Get rid of it now!"
"We're thousands of feet above the ground. What do you want us to do, just toss it into the sea?" The captain does not look pleased at the thought.
"Yes," I snap at him. "Cast it anywhere but here. The stone wants to be here."
"Too late," Fen warns. The ship lurches. The monster shoves the man who hides it inside, throwing away the staff. It roars and barrels into the hallway. The assassin follows close behind. "Get your armor," the captains tells the inventor, moving after his teammates. "Thor, keep your brother here."
Fen follows Thor as soon as the god moves. I turn to Jor. "Can you keep us in the air?" He has always been the best of us at weaving seidr.
But he is shaking his head. "Not for long," he warns. "Not without alerting every Aesir to the fact I have pulled my seidr from my prison along with this form."
"How long?"
He kneels on the ground, palms to the floor. His eyes glow bright gold with power. Below us, the ship stabilizes. "You have fifteen minutes," he says. "Bring our father back." I touch his shoulder lightly then run to Fenrir. His strength glows around him as he twists human guns into pretzels. In such a small human form, the mortals never seem to expect strength from him.
"Keep going," he calls. "I'll be along as soon as I finish this group off." I nod and keep moving. One mortal approaches me. He wears a suit instead of armor, features plain and bland. The giant gun in his hand stands out.
He raises the gun to aim it at my brother. I wave my hand and send him flying into the wall. He crumples, then staggers back to his feet. This time, he leaves the gun at his side.
"Who do you fight for here," he inquires mildly.
"I need to get to Loki."
"To free him? You haven't been brainwashed. You can walk away and SHIELD will let you go," he offers.
"SHIELD is not a threat to me," I reply. I turn my back to him.
As I enter the room Thor stopped in, I first see the god in question within a glass cage. Some part of me has to smirk, seeing him fallen for yet another of my father's tricks. Loki slams his hand onto a button with a quiet quip, and Thor falls from the airship.
"That won't kill him," I remark idly. "It is not yet his time to enter my realms."
"It will keep him out of the way," Loki smirks, turning to face me. His bone-thin face grins at me, blue fire glinting in hollow eyes. I freeze. Bile rises in my throat. Loki laughs. "You will not even raise a hand against me." He walks past me. "Give my regards to your brothers." I can only stare as he walks away. As he lifts himself to a smaller aircraft through the use of a rope.
The airship shakes under my feet, waking me. With a twist of seidr, I move to Jor's side. He is standing, glow of magic fading from his eyes. "The mortals appear to have the ship under control again," he reports. "Where is Loki?"
"Fen," I whisper. "Where's Fen?"
"Sister," Jor warns. "Calm yourself." He reaches out to me. "Fen is safe. Let me show you."
I reach out for him and reality warps around us as we stand beside Fen. He looks fine, laughing at the single man remaining in the hallway as they point a gun at him. When he spots us, he sighs, but ends his fun. With a quick movement, his opponent is on the ground.
"What is it? Where's father?"
"He's gone," I admit. "He left with the second aircraft."
"What did he want? He wouldn't leave if he hadn't taken something important."
"No, he wouldn't. But…but Loki isn't the one in control. You didn't see it. He's gone, Fen."
"Someone else is using his shape," Jor asks. "Thor would have recognized that. He's not entirely stupid."
"Wait until we've gathered the mortals," Fenrir orders. "We don't have time for you to tell this twice, and we need them to find Loki. Something is hiding him from us, but the mortal's technology should be unaffected."
"Gather the assassin, captain and inventor and meet back here in half an hour," Jor suggests. We nod.
…..
The moment my siblings and I enter the meeting room, the so-called Avengers are on their feet, weapons out.
I ignore them, making my way to a chair where I collapse. The fight on the helicarrier was not draining, but to see Father...gone. Wiped clean from the planes of his face, burnt in the blue fires of the infinity stone, was almost unbearable. My brothers make as if to move to my side, but Fen hesitates, pulls Jor back to give me space. I manage the faintest echo of a smile for him.
Then, I look to the Avengers. To the mortals, battered and bruised. The assassin, standing firm beside another man. The director, single eye hard with fury and looking so similar to our grandfather I look away. The captain and the inventor, seemingly come to a temporary truce. Our uncle is gone, as is the man who hides the monster. They will not be able to stand against the force an infinity stone can bring to bear.
"We have to kill him," I hear someone say, as if from a distance, and realize it is my voice. "Before that cursed stone can finish using him. We have to kill him."
From the looks on the mortals face, they expected far different. In my brother's eyes, only resignation.
It is the captain, surprisingly, who speaks up. "We don't just murder people," he protests, raising his voice in the defense of a criminal. The others in the room exchange a glance. They all have, save perhaps the merchant, but he is no stranger to killing either.
Fenrir, voice low as a growl in his chest, shook his head. "It is most likely he is gone already. The infinity stones are not kind to those they use as tools. It will have burnt his mind out."