Disclaimor: These characters are owned by Disney and Marvel and I don't make any money off of them. The other character is owned by Masahi Kishimoto and Shounen Jump.

Note: I mention again, that I borrowed a character from Naruto. I don't want to mention who, I'm afraid it will distract from the story. The character has even been renamed, not because I'm trying to steal him, but because I don't think the story-line would make sense for him to keep his name. But, a rose with any other name…blah, blah, blah. Yeah, it's still him with new experiences to affect how he behaves.

Haakon Chapter 2

Mizuki walked through the building. No, it was more like a mansion! She had agreed to the trickster's deal. What did she have to lose? She was promised money, lots of it. Money she could use to rebuild her life. Money she could use for her everyday needs, her medical needs, her… mental needs.

Yeah, she was going to need help with the nightmares. She still had dreams of him! Him coming through the windows, the doors, even somehow sliding through the walls! She could never feel safe, as long as she knew he was out there! And she didn't know if she could put her faith in the cops finding him for her.

But then, that had been an important part of the deal. She had insisted on it!

Her patron wanted the monster inside her, something she never called the thing out loud. She could sense her Patron didn't care for that language, as his green eyes darkened and narrowed at her in suppressed anger. He may have chosen to make an accommodating deal with her, but she had no doubt he could take what he wanted by force if he so chose. So, she didn't feel like pushing her luck with him.

But, he had seemed mildly amused with her demand! He had said that it might take him a while to do as she wished, but he would honor it, if she would move into his mansion, where he could ensure the monster's care.

And she had figured, why not? She was staying in what she assumed was one of many mansions owned by her patron. It was comfortable, warm, and she got whatever she wanted. Her patron doted on her. Well, he seemed to. She suspected he was doting on the creature inside her, through her.

But, what did she care! She wasn't looking for any attention from any man. Not after that night! Regardless of how handsome the man was. Regardless of how like a prince from a fairy tale he was. She understood the illusion. He had never once let her think he wanted anything from her but the thing inside her.

She stared out the windows facing the bay that the mansion nearly sat on. She wondered if the house was partially floating in that bay. She could walk out on the porch, look over the edge, and look into dark waters. But, the porch doors were locked. Maybe her doting Patron was afraid she'd throw herself into those deep waters.

No, she wouldn't. She didn't want the thing inside her, but she wanted to live through this ordeal. Her Patron's bargain seemed to be the best choice.

She turned from the large windows and wondered through the large room towards the large plush green love seat. Her Patron did love the color green. His home was primarily a pristine white, with large splashes of green highlights, with a very small sprinkle of red. The red seemed like an afterthought, something that wasn't there due to the tastes of her Patron, but some other reason she couldn't identify. He didn't seem to like it when she asked.

She was allowed to wonder anywhere she wanted, but the porch, the basement, and one bedroom. At least she thought the third room was a bedroom. It was on the second floor and it should face the bay. It was probably a magnificent view. She thought at first that it belonged to her Patron, but she'd accidently walked in on him in his bedroom. He'd seemed only mildly annoyed at the disturbance, but had immediately asked if she required anything. So, she figured he didn't do anything but sleep in that room and it was open for her to ask for any assistance.

She turned on the television, something he'd only gotten on her request; his interests didn't involve the foolish! But then, she was bored, a little foolish entertainment was better than nothing. Better than sleep that inspired nightmares!

She nearly jumped as the porch doors swung open with a blast of cold chill. Her Patron walked in the door, not explaining how he came about that way or why. His graceful saunter belayed nothing out of the ordinary, even as a body drifted in after him.

Mizuki found herself pushed up against the farthest arm of the love seat as her heart instantly knew who the man her Patron had dangling in mid-air for her. Even through the pulsing green energy dancing around his body, she could see his eyes. Those were the eyes that haunted her nights.

Her eyes darted to her Patron; he just lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head in silent question, his black silken hair brushing across one shoulder.

"He can't move?"

"No, he won't harm either of you," the silver voice reassured.

She stood up and carefully shuffled over to the ensnared man, her eyes wide as they scanned him over. He wasn't what she expected. He looked normal. He didn't appear to be the monster of her nightmares.

"Are you sure this is Him?"

"Yes," she cringed slightly at the offense suppressed in his voice. "I have found him. I have confirmed that he is the match to the child in your womb." A fine eyebrow lifted again, "What do you wish to do with him?"

She blinked, she hadn't thought that far. Some part of her had been convinced her Patron would never find him, and with the bargain broken, she would continue with the seeming inevitable death of the monster inside her.

But, here was the original monster, floating supine, back arched, head hanging to face her, terrified eyes darting between her and her Patron.

Her Patron sighed, "Do you want to let him go?"

"No!"

"I figured not, if you did, you may be responsible for his next victim. I did find him stalking another woman." Emerald eyes narrowed, and lips curled, "He seems to have a taste for brunettes."

Mizuki curled into herself. She'd never hurt anyone before. Even as she felt hot rage inside her, even as she felt her body tremble with the power of that rage, she couldn't…just couldn't.

"Could we hand him to the cops?" she gritted, but even as she said it, she knew the answer.

"Your mortal law would let him go without evidence. Then there is the little issue of following their rules about finding such evidence," his voice scoffed.

She shook her head. She couldn't let him go. She couldn't trust the cops to put him where he belonged. Her eyes looked into her Patron's. She did her best not to drown in those shimmering jade pools of fire, while still trying to convey her silent prayer.

He snorted, but lifted his hand and flicked his fingers and a small, double-edged dagger appeared in his hand. He calmly grabbed the man, no, the monster, by the neck, forcing his back to arch even more, baring his chest towards her. Then, with one quick thrust, he buried his dagger into the creature's heart.

She wanted to cringe, to retch, as she heard him scream, but she held her ground, and stared into those horrible pain-filled brown eyes until they darkened.

No more nightmares! No more worrying! She was going to get her peace and if watching this horror was her payment for it, so be it.

She fell to her knees, she felt relief flood her. He was gone! She didn't have to fear he'd be hiding in the shadows stalking her. No more!

"Here," her head snapped up to look at her Patron as he held something out to her, his eyes dancing with mirth.

"It would be better if it was willingly given, but from an enemy there are some mild benefits."

She stared at the bloody muscle in his hand, and proceeded to retch, but not before she watched him toss the body out the porch doors and into the dark waters!

About Three Years Before

Glass flew as a body flew out of the windows of Stark tower's sparring room. Maybe not the best place for a god to be sparring with a new replacement, but it had been a spur of the moment decision. Thor wanted to see how the replacement for Romanova would fare, even against the tower owner's protests.

But, Tony Stark, hair gray, but still as melodramatically energetic, couldn't help make a few snarky comments as Thor flew back in through the window, he had been unceremoniously blasted out.

"Hey, should I be calling you the ex-God of Thunder, because I swear that looked like a lightening attack that sent you flying, and not nearly as gracefully as usual out my window? And by the way, you need to replace that! What is with you gods and breaking windows?"

Thor ignored him, and charged the 18 year old boy, or more accurately young man, who held his ground, dark hair fanning around his pale face, as his red eyes followed the movements of the flustered god.

Thor swung towards the new Avenger, and swung through empty space, as he felt a crackle of energy across his back. He spun to find the young man several feet away, his katana still crackling with electric energy after taking a swipe at Thor's back as he'd passed.

"Hah," Thor bellowed, "you missed!"

Red eyes faded to black, as an eyebrow lifted, and a smirk fought to capture the young man's lips. He lifted his hand to wave a flag of red.

Thor's eyes widened as he spun to look around him, but of course, couldn't actually see the condition of his back. However, from the uproarious laughter coming from his friend Stark, he knew he'd been bested. His poor cloak. He'd have to get a new one. He'd didn't want to explain to his friends of Asgard how he came to losing another one.

He sighed, and dropped his hammer to the ground, but then laughed good natured, "Very well fought, I admit defeat!"

The young man smiled, please by the admission and put his katana in the sheath strapped across his back.

They reached out and shook hands.

"You will be a most welcome addition to this team! I'm sure you will serve your realm well!"

The young man barely reacted to the enthusiastic thump to his back from the god, but smiled politely, "Thank you, I only wish to serve."

Stark strutted over to the two, "Well, minus my window, that went great. So, Point Break here will introduce you to the rest of the team. It's not as great as it used to be, since their greatest player isn't there anymore, but Chris will do fine in my place. He's almost as brilliant as me, but then no one can be perfect, right!"

Both Thor and the young man's lips twitched, attempting to fight their amusement. They'd both learned that humoring the aging, yet still brilliant Avenger was for the best.

"So," the older Avenger's eyes blinked a moment, "what was your name again?"

The dark haired man sighed, "Haakon."

"Haakon?" The ex-man of iron snorted, "What kind of name is Haakon?"

Thor interrupted, "It's a Norse name. Yet, my young friend, you do not look Norse!"

"Yeah," Stark added, "you look like you match that Japanese sword more than you match the name."

"My father named me."

"Yeah, but that doesn't explain…" began Tony.

"I'm adopted."

Haakon did an excellent job of hiding the smirk, as the two older Avengers flinched.

Later, Haakon walked into his private residence in the Stark tower, through the entry room and through the living area to his private dojo. Mr. Stark had been kind enough to design the room for him.

Haakon sighed as he closed the door, and pressed the button that would make the clear windows opaque so he could be sure no one watched him. Then, he walked over to a small dresser in the corner and grabbed what looked like a decorative, green crystal ball.

He placed the crystal on the wooden dojo floors and spun it. He stood patiently, as instead of slowing; the ball rotated faster, crackling green energy, building until it formed an image.

"Hello Father," Haakon greeted, as he bowed his head respectively.

He looked up at the image of his father, who turned from whatever magical experiment he was doing to look at his son. He wasn't wearing his more colorful long, green, and gold riding jacket. He wore something more lax, a plain green tunic that hugged his thin, yet broad shoulders to hang loosely around his narrow hips. His pants were a regular black. His dark tresses were pulled back into a low pony-tail, giving his father the illusion of shorter hair. It made him seem younger, maybe just a little older than Haakon himself.

But, his father's eyes told a different story. They danced with the fire of long memory, of joys and pains that Haakon was sure he could never understand. The pain in those fires was always the most unbearable. He would wash them away if he could. But, he knew not how, so he could only stare with loving devotion into the flames. He knew he'd always loved the fire. His father's was no different.

His father's silver tenor voice danced across his ears as he laughed in delight at seeing his son, "How is my boy? You have not spoken to me for a while."

Again, Haakon could see the pain dance within his father's eyes, and he was ashamed that he was the cause. He bowed his head again, "My apologies father. I have been busy and distracted! But, I should not have let them distract me from my duties to you!"

His father chuckled, as his eyes narrowed, the ever expressive wrinkles in his forehead smoothing in happiness. "Do not worry about that! Tell me now, what are you doing?"

Haakon fought the twitch of his lips as he tried in his most dead-pan voice, "I've joined the Avengers."

He watched his father eyes blink rapidly as he obviously wasn't expecting this response, and even his brilliant mind, more so than Stark's Haakon believed, needed a moment to digest this new information.

Then, he began to laugh. It tinkled like bells across Haakon's mind as they became stronger, till his father was folded over and holding his stomach, tears running down his face. Haakon smiled at his father's moment of joy, any joy he could add to the fire that was his father was but a small offering.

His father eventually regained his composure, wiping the tears from his cheeks and eyes. "So, how is your uncle?"

"I threw him out Stark's window!"

And once more, his father was laughing, and once more Haakon was glad for the offering.

After a time, Haakon's father settled down, pulling at his wrinkled tunic to straighten it out as he tried to reclaim his dignity. But, the delighted smile still remained as he refocused on his son.

"Well, what is your plan?"

"Nothing really, Father." Haakon shrugged his shoulders. "I just figured this was the best place for my skills. I definitely won't get bored." He leaned forward conspiratorially, "Boredom does not seem to be a good thing in our family."

His father's lips twisted in amusement, but didn't let himself fall into laughter again. He smiled and his eyes softened as he focused on his son again, "As long as your happy, Haakon."

"Thank you, Father." He bowed again, "However, if you require anything of me while I am here, you only need ask."

His father frowned, "And your friends?"

Haakon straightened to full attention to solemnly hold his father's gaze. "My loyalty is always to you first! To the one being who saved me! To the one being who went out of his way to save me from never-ending death! You ask of me, I will do! Ask for my heart, and I will cut it from my own chest and…"

"No!"

"But Father, it is the least I can do. What little life I will be granted this time around is only because of you. How can I deny you?"

"No!" His father screamed. "I have told you to never to bring this subject up again! I will hear no more!"

His father turned, ready to turn off the illusion.

"No, Father! Please, I am sorry I upset you! I will not say it again!" He fell to his knees, old habits, centuries old, taking control. He bowed his head to the floor in submission.

He could see the green glow still reflecting off the dojo floors, and raised his head to see his father looking down at him sadly. His father's expressive eyes, a gentle blaze of pain touched his eyes and once more he felt ashamed.

"Father, I will not ask you take my heart now. But, promise me," he didn't blink as he stared into his father's eyes, "promise me, when I die," he brought up his hand to placatingly cut off his father's rebuttal, "for I am not immortal, that you will take my heart then. It will not make you as strong as taking it from my living body. But my heart given freely will make you stronger."

He bowed his head toward the floor, "please, when my death comes, let it be of use to you!"

Silver, but sad words ghosted across his ears, "Yes, I promise! But, I pray it will not be soon!"