The Mystery of Mischief
Chapter One: Passion and Purpose
Austin laid upon her plush, overly large and no doubt overly expensive bed, staring at the glittering ceiling above with a frown upon her face, and bags beneath her eyes. The glittering ceiling-accomplished with a light grey paint and special sparkles-had been Pepper's idea, as had the decor of the room: simple, homey, in shades of white, grey, and black; it hadn't taken Austin very long to request a few splashes of dark green, which Tony had grudgingly agreed to...though she had noticed some of those splashes disappear over time.
Austin could not tell what time it was, what day it was, or even how many days it had been since she'd received the heartbreaking news. She did know that it had been at least a few months, her birthday having passed, along with several holidays, the summer, and the unveiling of several genius Stark products. Everything appeared to blur together now, one thing running into the other, nothing feeling truly exciting or even worthwhile. It was a struggle for her not to become one of those people who fell into depression and gave up on life, and Austin knew this was not a good thing at all.
Austin also knew that she was beginning to get tired of feeling this way, though she had not, as of yet, found a way to shake the sadness that clung to her heart-
This was, she supposed, what she had Tony for.
Speaking of the grinning devil (so different, and yet strangely like, the other grinning devil who had vanished from her life), Tony Stark appeared in her doorway just then, not even having the kindness to knock, not that she expected him to. Austin deliberately ignored him for a moment, fighting her curiosity as she heard him walking about, wondering just what he was up to.
She found out a moment later as sunlight barreled in through her windows, which had previously been curtained, hurting her eyes with its intensity.
"Tony!" she cried halfheartedly, not truly upset with him; it was difficult, for her at least, to ever truly be upset at Tony Stark, but perhaps that was due to how much they had been through together, the recent hardship not the least trying upon the very long list.
Tony walked until he was standing at the foot of her monstrous bed, staring at her with a raised eyebrow, the round glow emanating from beneath his shirt a constant reminder of the past-and the future. "I'm so sorry-not sorry-Austin, but I think I've actually had enough this time. If I'm not allowed to make inappropriate jokes about your mother and Coulson, then you're not allowed to become a living part of your mattress, and wallow in misery for the rest of your life. You're in serious danger of turning into that wallowing vampire-lover from that despairingly popular movie years ago," he said, a distinct tone of command beneath his snarky facade as he wagged a disapproving finger at her, imitating her mother.
This was not the first time that Austin had heard these words, and even though frustration threatened to overcome her, she fought a small, thankful smile, glad to have someone like Tony (even if he was infuriating, sarcastic, and not the warmest of people) in her life to help her out of chasms such as this.
"I'm not going to wallow for the rest of my life, Tony-and I'm not going to become Bella Swan. If I do, please kill me. Quickly. But really, give me some credit," Austin rebutted, throwing an arm over her eyes to block out the brilliant sun-so warm and inviting, despite the fact that it was currently cold outside.
Cold. She always felt cold anymore, though she was certain that to some it seemed ridiculous-how, they said, could someone be so distraught after losing a person they had only known for a few days? Austin had no explanation, but then, she didn't think that most people connected as well as she had with Lee...well, Loki.
She sometimes still had trouble thinking of him as Loki, even after what she had been through, what she had seen...and yet, she had no trouble thinking of him as Loki at all, felt with her entire being that it was right, that that was who he was meant to be; it was another contradiction she had, adding to the impossibility that she could feel so entirely beside herself after his death.
It was as if there was something stronger than interest, attraction, or even love binding the two of them...and not even death could shake it.
She wanted to move on, she really did, because she felt that not only would he want that, but she truly wanted it, too. She simply hadn't found a way to pull herself from her sadness as of yet, to untangle herself from whatever unearthly thing had ahold of her.
She was trying, trying harder than she had ever tried before, but she needed a push.
Austin felt the mattress sink as Tony stepped onto it, and began jumping up and down, like a pre-schooler who was being naughty when his parents weren't looking. "Is it going to take the butt bounce for you to get up?" he threatened playfully, and Austin imagined he was grinning that stupid, sarcastic grin.
"How old are you again?" Austin couldn't resist a small smile this time, despite the cold emptiness she still felt, pulling her arm away from one eye to find Tony watching her carefully, even as he bounced.
People didn't give his observation skills enough credit, writing him off as nothing more than a smart-ass billionaire who, up until Pepper had wrangled him, had been a terrible playboy (much to Austin and her mother's annoyance; Tony had received a good talk more than a few times).
"You're actually ready for witty banter now? About time," Tony said, before he stopped jumping to sit-well, plop-onto the mattress beside Austin, his bum barely missing her head. He placed his arms upon his knees, legs crossed, and leaned forward thoughtfully. "Speaking of age, I almost forgot you can drink now. I should take you out, and force-feed you alcohol. It's not as good as writing, or, say, living, but it's something," he looked her way, eyes gleaming with mischief as he grinned a lazy grin.
Austin didn't want to admit-to Tony or to herself-that that mischievous air reminded her of Loki, and so she hid her face with both arms this time and groaned, glad that Tony couldn't see the tears pricking at her eyes.
She had cried so many tears, she wasn't sure she had any left, and yet they still kept coming. But it wasn't only Loki that she cried for-she also cried for her father, for Jane, for her mother, and for herself; she may even have been crying for Tony. Austin could not explain it, but it was as if there was something within her that sensed sadness and grief was on the horizon, and wept because of it.
Lately, Austin did not feel as if she knew herself at all, felt as if she were a stranger in her own skin. When she had left New Mexico and all that had happened there, she had felt stronger and more assured than she ever had before, as if she were getting close to who she was meant to be, but then something had happened. She kept having strange nightmares that she could not remember, and it felt as if part of her were somewhere else, bound and in chains. She still felt confident and assured in the part of herself that was "present", but this was overshadowed by the strange dreams, feelings, and the sadness she could not shake.
It was as if someone else had invaded her body, and she was trying to get used to them living there along with her.
She had not told Tony of this, and though part of her ached to share her fears, she did not think that he would understand, and she didn't wish to burden him, either. Tony had enough on his plate with the new Stark Tower, and general superhero business, and she was causing him enough trouble by moping, though he didn't seem to mind.
Austin took in a deep, what she hoped wasn't shaky breath, as she told Tony: "No drinking. The last time I drank was when we went out for my 21st birthday several months ago. I had half a mojito, and I wobbled out of there, and I was vomiting for three days. I don't want a repeat," she told him firmly, shuddering at the memory.
How long ago had that been? Was it before or after the terrible news?
Austin couldn't remember anymore, her mind filled to the brim with things that haunted her, though she couldn't seem to remember them, either. Every so often, images would flash in her mind, of places she had never been, of people she had never seen before, but then they would leave, too.
What was happening to her?
"It's not my fault you can't tolerate alcohol. I told you not to order anything with Vodka in it-though in your defense, I've seen them put other things in it, too," Tony defended himself, before reaching out and gently prying Austin's arms from her face. He gave her his most serious look, which was still sarcastic around the edges. "Seriously, Austin, this has to stop. You know I support you, but-I mean, really, do you know how long it's been? Months. Half a year. Maybe more. God, now I'm losing track," he sighed then, appearing uncharacteristically tired; Austin had not noticed this before, and it worried her. "I mean, have you even written anything lately? That would be something, at least."
Austin let out a halfhearted laugh as she slowly sat up, mirroring Tony's position upon the bed, feeling more tired now that she had spoken, more weighted. Still, she pressed on, allowing a bit of her feelings to be shown: "I have written a little, actually, but the story I started before is still unfinished, and it feels...wrong. Look, I know I need to move on, to start living again. I know everyone says it's ridiculous, that it was only a few days, but-" she stopped, a sudden thought occurring to her, before she questioned: "How long did it take you to realize you couldn't live without Pepper, Tony? And I want the truth, by the way."
Austin had never seen Tony and Pepper closer than they were now, but still, she had never, since she had known the two of them, been able to imagine the duo being apart, even before they had become romantically involved. They simply fit; Tony needed Pepper, and Pepper...well, maybe she needed Tony.
"Well..." Tony opened his mouth to retort, to add a snide remark, but he stopped, and Austin was thankful when he gave her the truth-she could see it in his eyes. "Honestly, about an hour. Maybe thirty minutes," he said, and then added, poking Austin in the shoulder: "But don't tell her that, or I'll never get rid of her...and my name probably won't be on the next building or patent I own."
Austin laughed, for real this time, and with enthusiasm, and was grateful to Tony for his rare moment of honesty and transparency; it wasn't too many people he shared them with. She understood precisely what Tony meant, because she had felt that way about Loki from the moment she had met him, though she had (tried) to fight it at first. Was that why she felt as though only half of herself was still present...or was there a stranger, more sinister reason?
Austin felt as though a voice, soft and assured, echoed through her mind then, but she could not catch onto what it was saying, and before she could be sure it existed at all, it was gone; perhaps she had never heard any voice, and perhaps she was not going crazy.
Austin knew that there was some reason she had met Loki-she believed that there was some reason for everything-and she supposed that now, she was simply going to have to appreciate her opportunity, and move forward past her loss.
It seemed as though she had lost everything lately: her father, Loki, her sense of peace. But then she remembered what she had gained, and what she already possessed: her renewed friendship with Jane, Tony and Pepper...her mother (who she needed to call).
Her life laid in where she chose to direct her attention, what she chose to place importance in. Maybe that was what she needed to remember, in order to start living again.
Suddenly, Austin felt better, though the shadows still lurked not far from her, awaiting their moment.
Tony cleared his throat then, scrambling off the bed quickly as he mentioned, over his shoulder: "Oh, speaking of Pepper-well, I just might have called her, and asked her to have dinner with you. And that might have been about," he checked his watch, "thirty minutes ago. And she might be here within ten minutes or so. Oh," he chuckled, as he started out the door, adding a bit of speed to his stride, so that Austin did not attack him, "and you might want to be ready."
"Tony!" Austin cried in disbelief, though inwardly she was thankful to receive that push she had been waiting for, hurriedly throwing a pillow towards Tony's retreating form; unfortunately, Tony Stark was out the door and into the hallway beyond before the pillow could strike, causing it to hit her door instead, falling to the floor lifeless.
Pepper was coming! Austin had to hurry.
Annoyance with her best friend aside, Austin felt a smile creep onto her lips as she, too, scrambled off of the bed and ran towards the bathroom, which also conveniently housed her closet, the seconds ticking off in her mind. This was precisely the push she had needed-and, thankfully, wasn't too far of a push, either. She would have a nice dinner with Pepper, maybe stop by the bookstore, and would finally start down the long road towards renewing her life.
Sadness still lingered, but so did the desire for happiness and change.
And...something else...something she could not put her finger on...
Austin rushed through a quick shower, and grabbed a set of clothes to pull on-she had taken to wearing a lot of black, one of her favorite shades (since black and white were not colors; her art teacher in high school has insisted upon this). She had begun to dress more stylishly with Pepper's graceful influence and her blossomed womanhood; her outfit today consisted of black tights, a slightly puffy dress that stretched to her knees and had a collar, a sharp ankle-length coat, and for a hint of color, a green scarf to match the green heels she pulled onto her feet. Twisting her auburn hair up into a less than perfect bun and dusting on some eyeshadow, adding earrings and a long necklace, Austin was ready just in time, greeting Pepper in the main foyer of Tony's home.
"Austin, you look beautiful. Thank you for having dinner with me-even if you were roped into it. Don't worry, I'll make him pay," Pepper told her, offering her a hug, swathed in a smart white business suit, a happy eagerness in her eyes that told Austin she was so, so grateful to see that her friend was up and about and finally ready to start living again-
And for the first time in quite a long time now, Austin truly felt beautiful-beautiful, and ready to tackle her sadness.
The quiet voice in the back of her mind sat, watched, and waited for the right moment, Austin none the wiser.
Of course Tony, standing off to the side of the two ladies, looking decidedly shabby in his tee and jeans, had to ruin the moment for everyone. "Really, Austin, green?" he accused, earning a sharp grin from his friend. He had been told of Loki's favor for the color.
"Yes, Tony," Austin rebutted, showing off her teeth with that grin. "Green is the color of renewal, isn't it?"
He felt himself being pulled-pulled through space, pulled through stars and worlds, pulled apart. It was not an unfamiliar feeling for him, spending so much time traveling by the Bifrost, and his own secret paths, and yet it was an unfamiliar sensation...possibly because of his physical state.
They had not been joking when they said torture, and for that Loki grit his teeth, and cursed them, even if he had, in a way, welcomed such pain. He found it foolish, to send one's supposed ally onto the battlefield while wounded-at least if that ally was your initial scout, initial pawn in enemy territory-but he never had found his "allies" to be overly intelligent in the first place; they appeared to operate more on strength than cunning, even if their leader did move pawns across the universe. Loki was sure that, when he arrived in Midgard, he would have to fight to stand for a long period of time-thankfully, he was a relatively fast healer, and the mortals posed only an insignificant threat.
They were laughable, really, for the most part. All save one-
One who did not exist anymore.
Loki braced himself, sharp staff held ready in his hands, for the entry to Midgard...and then suddenly he was there, in a dancing eruption of smoky blue, half kneeling upon a platform, with full awareness of where he was, and who would be present.
Erik Selvig really was such a pathetic man, though Loki could grudgingly say he liked him an iota of a particle better than he had to begin with. Selvig had been feeding him (and his "allies") information through the Tesseract, which was linked to Loki's staff, the stone affixed to it the blue Cube's other half, in a way; it had been born of the glowing Tesseract, or perhaps had been made at the same time, before being lost, and Loki had to admit that somehow it felt right, for that power to be in his possession, as if he were destined for it. Loki was fully aware of the S.H.I.E.L.D. base where the Tesseract was currently being held, of the agents who would be present, of the Director's frequent visits; he had timed his entry perfectly, wishing for an audience.
He was there to fulfill his purpose, there to bring them pain-for pain had burnt purpose into his veins.
He looked up from his half kneeling position to see agents with guns, said weaponry trained upon him, and he grinned a terrifying grin in response before he struck, easily incapacitating them even with his current state. One agent in particular attempted to assault him, a man with a metal bow who he had seen through the Tesseract, one who went by the name of Barton or Hawkeye. Loki felt a sense of triumph as he used his staff to "recruit" his first ally, telling the man that he had heart-before ripping that heart from him using the power his staff wielded; he had no room for sentiment.
This was the beginning.
One he was finished dealing death blows to the agents, and once he had gained Barton as an ally, and recruited yet another agent, Loki stood to his full height and regarded the one-eyed man who was attempting to escape with the glowing Cube-how humorous it was that those who opposed him did, half the time, only have one eye to speak of. The Director appeared halfway between fear and concealed hysteria, putting on a brave front that Loki found rather irksome, though it did not stop a small chuckle from leaving his lips.
"Please don't. I still need that, Director-and I am less than inclined to allow you to leave with it, after coming all this way," Loki called to Fury, who stopped in his tracks, undoubtedly aware that Loki was not bluffing, that he could not escape alive.
Fury turned to look at Loki, and the fear and hatred in his single eye fed Loki's pride even further, giving him strength, despite his weariness.
In two heartbeats, he heard a sound-a gasp-and his gaze was drawn towards the annoyance that was Doctor Selvig. Tightening his grip upon his staff, a cruel plan formed in his mind as the good doctor watched him warily, acceptance already in his gaze.
Selvig had known this day would come-that he would return, ready to begin his rule (or so Selvig, thought, anyway). He had not known how or when, or what exactly Loki's angle was, for the mischief god had always liked surprises (for others, that was), but he had known; Loki had seen to this, had ensured that the doctor was fully aware of what he would, eventually, help to bring about, aware that his ill choices would lead to the dominion of his world. And now that the moment had arisen, he saw nothing in the doctor's gaze save resignation-
Resignation, and a small amount of anger: anger that he had aided the rogue god, anger that his world was about to fall into siege. And, there was something else, something barely hidden, just on the edge of being displayed.
Loki planned to eradicate that anger, to gain full compliance, to essentially erase the doctor's mind of individuality, as he had Barton's.
Through his allies he had learned of the powers his staff possessed: perhaps the greatest being to manipulate a being, in multiple ways. He would test this new power out on his henchmen, and would be all the happier not to have to hear Selvig's veiled complaints any longer. And Selvig would not be the only one he would recruit-S.H.I.E.L.D. was full of well trainer operatives that would, so long as he needed humans, be invaluable...and when he was done with them, well, they would fall just as the rest of the mortal race. He had two allies already, and could pick up more on the way out of the facility.
Loki knew his mission: to gain control of the Tesseract...both parts of it...and to open a portal. But he was not stupid enough to believe that he could accomplish this on his own, nor did he care to try.
Plus, compelling a few agents would be worth it, if for no other reason than to see the look upon the Director's face...and to know that Erik Selvig had, essentially, been stripped of his free will as he succumbed to the truth of the Tesseract.
"You," the word left the Director's lips in a startled growl, drawing the rogue god's attention once more, and in his one eye Loki could see fury-amusing, considering his name. He was taking this particular breach personally.
The two had a bit of an interesting history. It had all begun the moment that Loki had appeared in Midgard, forging his alliance with Selvig. As stupid as the doctor may have been, the Director was not fooled for very long, and though he had not known what was pulling the doctor's strings, he had sensed that something was askew. Loki was sure that he had allowed the good doctor to be in the presence of the Tesseract for more than one reason. And then that day-the day that Austin had left New Mexico; Loki tried not to think of it-the Director had finally found the invisible enemy he had been searching for, training a gun on him in the garden connected to the hospital; what the Director did not know, perhaps even now, was that Loki had practically invited him there, all as part of his long term plan.
The Director valued the protection of his people-and Loki found it both hilarious and pathetic that he had deluded himself into believing that he could protect said people, that S.H.I.E.L.D. was really doing good, that he could pull together a team to ward off any outside enemies.
Darkness lived next to the light, and so darkness lived within S.H.I.E.L.D.
But that was no matter, because this darkness would not interfere with Loki's ultimate plans. All would fall before him, in the end.
That end was a ways into the future, but Loki was nothing if not patient.
"Loki," Selvig breathed then, fear tinting the name, as if feeling compelled to say something now that the Director had.
The tension in the air was palpable.
Both Loki and the Director turned their gaze to the scientist this time, and everyone within the room (who was still conscious) saw the battle that was waged within his eyes. It was not a battle of right and wrong, but a battle of another sort-a battle of the heart, a battle that should not have taken place.
His secret was beginning to reveal itself.
It was obvious that Selvig had given up, had given in, the coward...but then why did he appear torn, not angry this time? Nothing should have mattered to him anymore, with Austin gone. He should have been a broken man. He should have wanted to aid Loki more than ever before-when he ruled, he could create a perfect society, where none would have to die, where war was erased...where casualties such as Austin's were not had.
Selvig should have been on his knees begging for a role to play in the future of the Earth, not appearing torn as he did.
So then why...
A dangerous thought formed in Loki's mind, heart beating loudly in response, hope trying to flower-
But he viciously killed that hope before it could become anything more than a weed.
No. Hope was not his friend. Hope was a vile creature-more vile than he would ever be.
Before Selvig could move, could blink, could do anything, Loki stepped forward and aimed the tip of his staff at the doctor's heart, relishing in the surprise and horror on Selvig's face even as he fought with himself inwardly. Part of him was tempted to plunge the staff into the annoying man's chest, to end his life instead of prolong it, but he knew that he could not. Infuriating as he was, Selvig had worked closely with the Tesseract for quite a while, and if nothing else, was very familiar with the pitiful technology of the mortals. As much as Loki hated it, he needed the irksome man.
Loki did not like to think that there was another reason he allowed Selvig to live, even as he watched the power of his staff grab hold of the man, erasing bits of him as the glowing blue of the stone embedded in its tip reached the scientist's eyes. But perhaps there was another reason, something to do with Austin, something to do with the fact that she would not have wanted her father's life to end in such a way.
That small sense of hope threatened to return, but Loki violently shoved it away as Selvig's expression drifted into calm, all traces of his torn emotions gone.
Whatever Loki wished to know, he could now ask-and Selvig would tell him without debate. If the scientist was hiding any secrets, they would soon be known.
A strangled gasp was heard, and Loki turned his attention to the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. once more, relishing in the look of mute horror and desperation that crossed his face before it vanished, and he became the cold, hard, justified man who believed that he could save everyone once again.
The fool.
Loki wanted to laugh in his face, but now was not the time. Instead, his gaze met the Director's singular eye as he said, grinning dangerously: "Prepare yourself, mortal. This is only the beginning, for I come burdened with glorious purpose."
Erik Selvig felt panic as he watched that brief hope flash behind Loki's blue-green gaze, as he prepared for the tip of that too sharp, glowing staff to transform him into something other than himself.
No.
He had not expected this, had not predicted it. How could he have been so stupid?
He should have requested that Stark lock him away-or better yet, kill him. He should have known that Loki would find some way to uncover the truth of their ruse, even if it took a little time. He should have known that his acting skills were far from ponderous; they never had been very good.
He had not thought that Loki may possess a power such as this-to brainwash in such a way-but he should have been prepared for the possibility. It was an oversight on both his part and Stark's...but especially his, since he knew the mischief god well enough.
What would Loki do once he discovered that Austin was alive? Would he feel the same as he had before, or would he go after her, just to spite Erik and Stark? He wanted to believe that Loki would do the right thing, because he obviously cared for Austin, but he had no guarantee. Erik did not trust Loki, and Erik was truly terrified.
Please forgive me, Austin. Erik thought as the tip of that dangerous staff connected with his chest, and he began to feel himself-all that he was, and all that he wasn't-begin to slip away, replaced with some alien force, some remote being. I only wanted to keep you safe.
But he hadn't-not now, and not before.
And after this moment...when he was asked, he would tell Loki everything, and doom her again.
Hello, everyone!
I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Since we only had a prologue so far, I wanted to get the first real chapter out for you. I don't know when I'll have the next one done, but I'm working on it.
This chapter is dedicated to: Solara Moonset, my first reviewer, who also suggested a name for the series. Thank you so much!
Adding to Solara's suggestion, I've decided to call the series "Mischief's Destiny", since it relates to what the series is all about. Thanks again for the suggestion!
Also, thank you to everyone who added this story to your favorites, added this story to your alert, as well as those who checked out the original via this story. So glad to have you on board!
Chapter Notes: I really hope Tony wasn't OOC in this chapter. I have such a hard time writing him sometimes, though he is fun to work with. Also, sorry if Austin is a little weepy at the moment-there is a legitimate reason for that, I promise! Lastly, my spellcheck is acting weird, so sorry for any errors.
Thank you for reading! Please leave a review and say hello, and let me know what you think! Until next time.
~Cross
