Thor was…acting weird. He had come back to Earth just six months after taking his errant brother back to Asgard, and he was acting very nervous since his return. He refused to answer any questions as to his odd behavior, saying gravely that it was a matter he could only speak to Director Fury about.
When the Asgardian finally managed to get a meeting with the director, the rest of the team was there as well. Thor weakly protested that they shouldn't be there, and Fury calmly replied that they were his team and that anything he had to say could be said in front of his comrades in arms.
Thor sighed heavily, his blue eyes glued to the table. He looked as if he expected to be stoned to death; the perfect image of a martyr in his red velvet cape and armor.
"The All Father has made his decision on Loki's punishment, after many months of deliberation," Thor said softly; well, as softly as his booming voice could manage.
"Good," Tony said flippantly, not even looking up from his Stark Tablet. "That douche bag needs a good old fashioned flogging."
Thor glared at the billionaire, but his lips twitched softly. "He has been given that, many times over. However, the All Father has decided that humiliation will stick in his mind far longer than any physical punishment. He has decreed that Loki shall be stripped of his powers and sent to live among mortals; specifically, the warriors who defeated him."
Thor finished his little speech and looked down at the table resolutely. He looked like he was expecting a scolding, or perhaps blows. The room was deathly silent; the tension could have been sliced with a knife and it felt almost if that's what it would take for someone to speak. The implications of that simple statement were so unthinkable, so freakishly horrid, that no one at the table could really process it.
Fury, however, had a mind that raced faster than even Tony's in this kind of situation. He had already went through and discarded several possibilities before settling on one that made his lips twitch slightly. On anyone else, the expression would have been a malicious grin.
"Alright," Fury said evenly. He handled the outburst that followed evenly, saying only that he knew the perfect agent to keep an eye on the god-turned-mortal. Well, calling him an agent was a bit of a stretch, but the man owed him a favor. A life debt, he had called it, with all the solemnity of a priest as he said it. It was far past the time he should have called it in.
When the indignant shouts had died down, he held Thor's gaze steadily with his one eye. "When will your brother be arriving?"
Thor looked down sheepishly, and muttered into his hands. "Tomorrow, at Asgardian noon…which will be…ten in the night here," he said. There was another outburst here, but it was neither as violent nor as long as the first, and Fury nodded.
"Good. I expect you all here at eight sharp to meet your new teammate," he said, studiously ignoring Tony's whining. He made a mental note to tell Damien to freak the billionaire out a bit before dismissing them, and grinned to himself. He might as well give his old friend a personal visit; he did enjoy his company.
X0x0x0x0X
He was asleep when the knock came to his door, but that didn't matter; he had an effective system that told him and woke him when someone was at his door, no matter how deeply he slept or what kind of music he left blasting in his ears before he went to bed.
He yawned as he rose, rubbing the sleep from his eyes -unnecessary, as he didn't get crust in his eyes, but a habit- and grabbed a shirt from his dresser before ghosting down the stairs to open the door. His nose told him who it was before he even let the man in the door, and he was grinning as he pulled the one eyed man into a hug.
"Frankie," he said jovially, leading the black man into his living room. "It's been too long. How are you?"
The endearment forced a smile out of Fury, something he rarely let someone see. "Oh, I've been alright I suppose," he said, seating himself on his favorite leather chair in the Victorian style living room, stretching his legs out toward the fire place.
Damien took the chair opposite him, pulling his long legs up to his chest and crossing his arms over the pale limbs, looking curiously weak and vulnerable. He was nothing of the sort, of course, but he found it put people it ease if they thought he wasn't a threat.
"What's troubling you?" he asked softly, overly perceptive, as always. Fury sighed, knowing that Damien wouldn't let him visit for a while before asking what he wanted of him.
"I've come to collect my life debt," he said seriously, and Damien's face grew very grave indeed and he nodded once.
"Of course. You know I will do anything in my power for you," he said, his voice serious and melodious, something he couldn't quite control when he was tense.
Fury sighed again. He really didn't want to ask this of his friend; he knew the man enjoyed his privacy, his freedom to practice his art, and the luxury his wealth afforded him. At least he didn't have to ask him to give up the luxury; all the Avengers were housed in Stark Tower, and that was luxury incarnate.
"I need you to join the Avengers," he said softly, knowing Damien's ears would hear him.
The black haired man grew very, very still. He didn't breathe, didn't blink, didn't make even the slightest movement, and Fury was rudely reminded that as much as he acted it, Damien was not human.
The moment was interminable. Fury became increasingly agitated, wondering if the man had gone into one of his frozen states in order to deal with his stress and not rip him to pieces. If so, he might have to wait for hours for him to come out of it.
But no, Damien let out a huge sigh after what seemed like an eternity, and his ethereal blue eyes caught and held Fury's.
"Okay," he said slowly. "I said I would do anything, and I damn well meant it. I assume I have to start soon?"
Fury let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and nodded slowly. "Yeah. Tomorrow. We have a situation. Loki's dad thought it would be good punishment to send his son to live with the people who kicked his ass."
Damien grinned suddenly, and his eyes grew hazy, his features more sharp as he recalled an old memory. "Ah, the Liesmith. I remember him well; I would never have allowed him to rule over Earth, of course. I'm just sorry I couldn't join the fray," he said, his trademark devilish grin consuming his face.
"Where were you then, anyway? I thought for sure you would be showing up," Fury said. Damien's grin fell and he sighed.
"I was unceremoniously dragged off the world by a rather angry, alien god to solve some problem of theirs or another," he said, his expression sour. "I swear, I am never leaving this planet again."
Fury chuckled softly, and they began to talk of their various encounters with other sentient species and supernatural creatures. They talked for hours into the evening, until Fury was yawning and subtly hinting that he needed to leave. Damien's eyes were soft and open when he and Fury stood, his hand like ice when he touched Fury's cheek.
"Can't you stay, Frankie?" he whispered softly, his deep voice ringing like a bell. Fury shivered slightly, remembering things that would definitely not make his refusal any easier.
"I'm a married man, Damien," he said quietly. He hated the pained looked that flashed in his friend's eyes, but it was gone as soon as he saw it. Damien's hand dropped to his side as if he'd been burned and he gave a half smile.
"I know," he said wistfully. "What time do you need me there?"
"Eight pm. Don't be late," Fury said, and he was Director Fury again, the easy expression of relaxation gone from his face. Damien nodded once.
"Wouldn't dream of it," he said softly, and said good bye to his friend, sighing to himself. He closed the door on the leather-clad back, wishing for the time, thirty years ago, that his Frank Fury would have stayed with him.
"Get over it, Damien," he muttered to himself, and went down to his workshop, knowing sleep would evade him tonight. It was nothing new; creatures like him didn't really need sleep, but it was a luxury he liked to indulge in.
X0x0x0x0X
Tony was impatient. He didn't have to wait for many things in his life, and waiting for the new guy was horrible. Fury hadn't even mentioned a name, so hacking the SHIELD database was a useless waste of time; well, as useless as hacking any government agency was. He was so eager to see who the new Avenger would be that he was actually on time to the meeting, fidgeting in his seat as Fury went over the whole 'respect your new team mate' drivel.
"I would like you all to meet your new teammate, Damien Verafaul," Fury said at last, and the door opened to reveal a slim young man dressed in a Daft Punk t-shirt and skinny jeans, his feet clad in black and white converse. His hair was a deep black, stark against his white skin, and pulled back in a neat French braid. His cheekbones were high, and his whole face was slightly angular, his eyes two dark blue orbs that flicked over their faces rapidly. He couldn't have been more than twenty.
"Seriously? This young twerp is our new teammate?" Tony said incredulously.
Indigo eyes locked on him and the man smiled slightly. "You weren't kidding, Frank. He's a real spitfire. I can smell the stubbornness on him," he said, and his voice was low and melodious, leaving everyone in the room breathless for a moment. The man, Damien, advanced into the room, and his movements were sinuous, graceful. He seemed to flow into the room like some unearthly liquid. He was glorious, magnificent, inhuman in his perfection.
He took an empty seat beside Steve, and the super soldier tensed slightly. Damien seemed to repress the urge to roll his eyes, but when he spoke again, his eyes were locked on Tony's.
"Mr. Stark, I know you are a man of science; I am as well, in a sense. But you can believe me when I say I am a thousand times your senior. I have watched the world grow up, and I will continue to watch it long after you are gone," he said softly, and his voice was cold, icy in it's intensity.
Tony narrowed his eyes. He didn't like people who thought they knew more than he did, and this guy obviously had that trait in spades. "Oh yeah? What are you? A freaking vampire or something?" he said sarcastically. He didn't notice the way Fury tensed as he said that, but the rest of the team did.
Damien grinned, and as Tony watched as his blue eyes turned a deep purple and then, slowly, red. He found himself fascinated by the sudden change, unable to tear his eyes away, and when Damien spoke, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.
"That is exactly what I am, Tony," Damien purred, and he advanced around the table toward the billionaire. "How astute you are; you got it right on the very first try. You're ego is most refreshing. You know, I used to delight in putting men like you in thrall, when I was young," he said conversationally.
"Did you?" Tony said, and when did Damien get right in front of him?
"Oh yes," the vampire said, and his entire face was alight with mirth. "You know, I'd very much like to see you on your knees," Damien murmured, and how could Tony refuse those eyes?
"Yeah, sure. Whatever you like," Tony babbled, and he found himself kneeling in front of the vampire.
"Enough, Damien," Fury said dryly, and Damien looked away for a moment, and Tony jumped up shaking his head in disbelief.
"What. The. Fuck?" he ground out, and Damien laughed.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to look a vampire in the eye, Tony?" he said, an impish grin on his lips. Tony glared, but studiously avoided looking into the man's eyes, focusing instead on his lips.
"No, they damn well did not. Vampires don't exist," he ground out.
Damien smiled again, this time revealing fangs that had definitely not been there moments before. "Oh, but we do. There aren't many -barely a hundred million- but we do exist."
Tony glared at the vampire a moment more, then his eyes narrowed calculatingly, and he glanced at Bruce. They both had an internal science squee at the possibilities, and Tony crossed his arms around his torso.
"Won't you burn up in the sun?" he said crassly, and Damien seemed to deflate, his mirth suddenly gone.
"No. The sun's light can burn me no longer," he said, the easy smile of a few moments ago vanished, and Tony could sense the story behind his words.
Before he could ask, though, Fury interrupted. "Now that you've all met and been introduced, we need to get to the drop zone. Loki will be arriving in an hour, and I want you to collar him as soon as we get him, Damien."
Damien nodded seriously, but his eyes were dancing again, and he fingered the shoulder bag Tony hadn't noticed earlier with barely disguised glee. He narrowed his eyes. He knew that look. That was the look he got when he was about to try out a previously untested gadget. He wanted to ask what it was he was testing, was strangely attracted -in an entirely straight way- to the strange man who claimed to be a mythical creature. But Fury was herding them out of the room and into the Quinjet, and he was seated in between Steve and Clint, who were both watching Damien fiddle with his phone with an intent expression. The sound of Angry Birds filled the jet, and Clint started snickering.
"What's so funny, Bird Brain?" Tony demanded, and Clint was too amused to hit Tony for the unwanted nick name.
"Just…just think about it…a vampire, an immortal being I thought a myth fifteen minutes ago, is sitting across from me, playing Angry Birds on his smart phone," he said, and there were tears in his eyes from suppressed laughter.
"The only person who gets angry in Angry Birds is you," Damien muttered contemptuously, and he cursed in a foreign language, and crushed the device in his hands in a throttling motion.
"Whoa…rage quit much?" Tony said, grinning. Damien smiled at him ruefully and rubbed the back of his neck as he put the crushed phone in his bag.
"That's the tenth one I've lost to that game… I don't even want to contemplate how many Xbox controllers I've broken because someone sniped me on Modern Warfare Two," he said, and sighed mournfully. Fury snorted from his seat beside Thor and Damien shot a glare in his direction.
"Shut your face Frankie; you're just mad because I wiped the floor with you in Mortal Kombat," he said, crossing his arms. Tony frowned, and gaped when Fury laughed -actually laughed, not just a mean snicker- his jaw going slack.
"That was thirty years ago, you great braggart. And you only won because you cheated," Fury shot back. The whole team, save Natasha, who was flying the jet, watched the back and forth with slightly stunned looks.
"I did no such thing; you are a dirty liar," Damien said stiffly, lifting his nose in the air.
"And you are a dirty cheater," Fury replied easily, and the two shared a grin that bespoke of years of camaraderie.
"We're here," Natasha said, and there was a slight jarring as the Quinjet touched down. They all exited, Tony, Steve and Clint all staring open mouthed as Damien and Fury continued their playful banter out of the hatch doors and into the open field. They stood in a dry riverbed, the lights of a nearby city glimmering in the distance.
The team stood in a loose circle, and Damien turned to Thor, his expression serious again. "How long do we have until your brother arrives?" he asked, and in the darkness Tony could see that his eyes actually glowed. They were not reflecting light -there wasn't enough of it- but rather producing a light of their own that cast small shadows on Damien's cheekbones.
"From my calculations, twenty five minutes," Thor said, equally serious. Damien nodded.
"If you all would be so kind as to back up a few feet…yes that's it, I don't want any mishaps now…getting zapped is no fun at all," he said, shooing them out of the radius of the circle he started to draw. Once the shape was drawn in the cracked earth, he stood in the center of it and pulled out a small bag and began to sprinkle its contents in the sphere.
"What is he doing?" Tony asked, rather loudly.
"Shut up Stark," Fury whispered. "He's doing what he does best."
Tony grumbled to himself but fell silent, watching the vampire as he flitted from corner to corner of the circle, murmuring words too low and too fast for him to hear. Damien stilled after a moment and stood in the center of the circle and reached his hands up to the sky, his fingers open and grasping.
"As above," he cried out, and his voice was sharp as it echoed. He crouched suddenly, slamming his open palms against the dirt. "So below! This circle is sealed!"
Nothing exciting happened for almost a minute after that, and Damien stayed crouched, still, too still for a human. Well, that was anticlimactic, Tony thought, and almost as if to contradict him, the circle sparked with a blue light, and there was a soft hum. A transparent blue shield now encircled the space Damien occupied, and the vampire stood, an ecstatic grin on his face.
Tony would have said something, but at that moment, thunder boomed, though there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the assembled super heroes stiffened. Even Thor looked wary as the lightening struck, filling the clearing with light that blinded the eye. Tony looked away, the image of Damien silhouetted by the beam of electricity momentarily burned into his retinas.
When he looked again, Loki was standing in the circle beside Damien, looking much like he had when he had left Earth six months ago, though there was a dark bruise across his cheek and he looked exceptionally dirty. The muzzle was still over his mouth, and Tony watched as Damien caressed it, a slight frown on his face.
"This… I made this," he said, frowning. He murmured a soft word and the muzzle vanished, revealing Loki's bloodied and nearly gone lips. "I lost it long ago… I would not wish that pain on my worst enemy. I am sorry you had to endure it so long."
Tony had no warm feelings for the demented god, but seeing the state of his mouth, his gums revealed because the flesh of his lips was no longer there, stirred an intense pang of pity in his stomach.
"First things first, however, before I heal that wound," Damien continued, reaching into his bag and pulling out a thin, silver collar. It was smooth and seamless, without a hinge in sight. Tony was going to ask how the vampire planned on getting it on the god, but shut his mouth in time and just watched.
Damien held the collar level, touching the edge of it to Loki's Adam's apple, looking into his eyes intently. He pricked his thumb, rubbing the dark liquid against the metal, and it glowed brightly, absorbing the offering.
"By blood, I bind you," Damien said softly, and the collar glowed brightly, and shot from the vampire's hand and attached itself neatly around Loki's throat with a blurred movement. "By blood, you bind me," Damien continued, taking Loki's wrist and pricking it with his thumbnail, dipping his forefinger into the small well it made and drawing a symbol on his wrist. It glowed brightly as the collar had before vanishing. "In this life, you answer only to me. In this life, I vow to protect you as you vow to serve me. This is my will; so mote it be!"
There was a thick silence; the blue of the circle flashed red, and Loki shuddered, swaying heavily on his feet before falling to his knees. There was something heavy on the air, something that Tony knew he would never fully understand. Damien didn't sway as Loki had, but his shoulders slumped slightly as though a great weight had settled on them. The vampire helped Loki to his feet, and waved his hand over his mouth and murmured something in a foreign language. Tony watched in fascination as Loki's lips regrew rapidly, only seconds passing before they were restored to their former glory. The god touched his lips, as if not quite believing they were there again, and stared at Damien in wonder.
"Thank you, mortal," he murmured to Damien's back. The vampire chuckled as he swished a foot over the drawn circle, dispelling the blue sphere that had encased them.
"Come, Loki, don't pretend not to know me," Damien chided. Loki looked at him, his confusion written all over his face. Damien heaved a put upon sigh and spoke a short sentence in a language that was vaguely familiar. Loki's eyes widened comically, and Thor's eyebrows shot up.
"How do you know the language of Asgard?" he demanded and Damien held up his hands, fingers spread, placating.
"I've been to Asgard, Thor, when you and your brother were just coming into manhood," he said, and his eyes glinted mischievously. "I taught Loki some of what he knows, in the magic department."
Thor frowned, and then drew his hammer, raising it threateningly. "That was Aldron, who was Loki's first tutor in the arcane, and I watched him die on the battlefield against the dwarves. You are not he," the god said, his blue eyes stormy.
"He speaks the truth, brother," Loki said, looking from Thor to the still vampire with slightly frightened eyes. "The face he wore on Asgard was a disguise, and a clever one."
Damien grinned at Thor, who narrowed his eyes and then laughed. "I knew there was a familiarity of you, Damien. Tell me, though, how did you survive? I saw a battle axe rend you in twain."
Damien wince slightly but grinned. "I'm a vampire, and there are only two things that can kill vampires; sunlight, and wood from the First Tree. The battle axe was a bit…hard to recover from, but I rose a week after you buried me, and returned to my home."
"You said sunlight can't kill you, though," Tony interjected, and Damien went still again, shuddering slightly.
His dark, glimmering eyes locked onto Tony's with icy intensity. "It can't," he said, quiet, angry. "And the reason it can't is a story you've not earned the right to hear, Mr. Stark."
Silence met the end of his speech, and Damien made for the Quinjet, beckoning to Loki to follow. The god crossed his arms, as if to defy him, but his legs jerked forward and he followed Damien.
"So that's why you wanted him, Fury; creepy slavery collars," Tony said, following the two immortal beings onto the Quinjet.
"For once, you aren't far off, Stark," Fury said.