Disclaimer: Nothing in the Marvel, Lord of the Rings, or Doctor Who universes is ours.
A/N We are so sorry for the slow update, we had the chapter ready on time, but then I decided I didn't like it, and poor Irmo had to scramble for a new one. Sorry, but we hope you like it, and please review, it means alot. If there is anything you like, dislike, or want us to improve, just leave a review, we love them, and we would like to thank animepercystyle for her lovely reviews. Thank you, and enjoy.
Of Illusions and Dilusions
Loki strode through the courtyard and for once paid no mind to beautiful ornamentations that surrounded him. Fixing that bridge had gotten him out of the dungeon, but he was still under constant supervision, and he was tired of constantly living under somebody's eye. Ever since his 'James Bond' jump out that dining hall window, security had been tight. Loki grinned. It had so been worth it.
"Do you find something amusing, Brother?"
Loki sighed, now he was stuck with Thor almost all the time, and since Sif was basically glued to Thor, Loki had no time to himself… at all.
"Oh, but this is good, Brother. You and me, it has been too long. If only the warriors were here also, do you not miss them Lady Sif?" Here Thor turned his attention over to Sif, and Loki had a chance to breath.
"Yes, I miss them; I wonder what they are doing right now. Do we know what realm they are in?" Here Sif turned a questioning look toward Thor, and Thor turned his confused, lost puppy eyes on Loki.
Loki tried very hard not to puke in his mouth. "I know only that they are being incredibly dull. If you wish to ascertain the extent of their inactivity, you could always ask Hiemdall." He neatly deflected the question. He did not need to admit that he hadn't the slightest clue where the trio of imbecility had landed other than it was beyond the branches of Yggdrasill. And it was true enough, the warriors were being incredibly poor entertainment, he would have to fix that soon.
"Yes, let us seek out Hiemdall straight way!" Thor restated as if it had been his idea in the first place.
Loki resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and instead asked innocently, "As I will be within your sight at all times, may we leave out entourage behind?"
Thor looked confused, "We have an entourage?"
Loki just glanced at one of the 'huskier' royal guards trying valiantly to conceal his considerable mass behind a slender aspen.
Thor stared for a moment before the guard, realizing that he had been compromised, gave a strange parody of a bird call and army crawled behind a shrub.
From across the yard came an answering whistle, and the bemused trio saw another guard wrap himself in a green cloak and stand perfectly still.
The three stared at him. The guard did not move a muscle. "I don't think he knows we see him." Sif said at last, breaking the silence.
"Truly Brother, I had no idea we were being observed." Thor attested.
"Yes well, they are Asgard's finest." Loki replied dryly.
Thor nodded gravely, completely missing the stab at Asgardian subterfuge. "I will tell them that they may go." He declared magnanimously, and with a determined step, he proceeded to do just that.
For a moment, Loki and Sif were left alone. Sif eyed Loki warily. Loki allowed his answering grin to turn the tiniest bit wolfish. This was going to be so much fun.
Thor returned moments later with a triumphant grin upon his face. "The guards were reluctant to leave, but I assured them of your good behavior. I trust it was not misplaced." Here he grinned reassuringly at the smaller man as if he was sharing a joke with a fragile child.
"Yeah right…" Loki stopped mid-sentence and looked confused. Then he looked warily down at himself. He looked back at Thor. "Well, fudge."
"What is it Brother?" Thor asked in concern. He looked to Sif, but she appeared just as confused as he was.
"This sounds weird, but I am Sif. Loki did that dumb illusion thing again."
Thor sighed. This was getting really old really fast. At first he had thought it was funny, but Loki had been pulling this prank over and over, sometimes twice in a day. It was old. No, it was beyond old, it had died of old age and Hela had grown bored with it and regurgitated it back into this sad state of repetitive life.
"Seriously, Loki?" Sif exclaimed, rolling her eyes expressively.
"Shut up!" Loki snapped. "I really am Sif!"
"Brother," Thor started gently, "I know that captivity irks you, and that you wish to be free, but you have tried this deception before. It is very clever, but no one believes it anymore."
Loki threw his hands up in frustration. The gesture was very similar to Sif's, but the accompanying eye roll was a little bit off. "I am not Loki! He's an illusionist, obviously he's illusioning us."
Sif sighed and shook her head apologetically, "I think that solitary cracked him, Thor. I'm sorry."
Thor shook his head vehemently, "No," he denied, "he may have grown forgetful, but his mind is strong, in time he will heal."
"I'm not nuts people! I'm Sif!" Loki practically screamed.
"Brother, calm down, I know a lot has happened to you in the last year, but it is over now, you can stop pretending to be someone else." Thor tried diplomatically. This earned him a strange look from Sif. It seemed that she had never heard of Doctor Phil… her loss.
"I am not your brother! How can you be this stupid?" Loki shouted, stepping dangerously close.
Sif leapt between them and pushed Loki back gently but firmly, "Thor isn't your enemy, Loki, just calm down, okay?"
Loki stared at Sif for a moment, and then he started to laugh.
Thor and Sif glanced at each other uncertainly.
"Uh, Loki?" Thor asked apprehensively.
Loki slowly brought his slightly deranged laughter under control. "He's been planning this all along. Trying to look forgetful so that when he pulls out his master card no one will see it coming. You may have fooled Thor, Buster, but you will never fool me! You have Thor wrapped around your pinky finger, but not me. NO, not me, never me! There are no strings on me!"
Loki began cackling evilly and would have lunged at Sif if Thor hadn't grabbed him just in time.
"I did not see that coming." Sif commented after a moment.
"He is really getting violent!" Thor gasped. "I had no idea it could get this bad!"
"Quick! In here!" Sif opened a store room, and Thor threw his still struggling brother into it. Even with Loki off balance, it took the combined effort of Thor and Sif to close and bolt the door.
Thor and Sif leaned against the door in exhaustion. From the other side came muffled curses and loud pounding.
"Well," Thor chuckled eventually, "he is getting to be quite the convincing actor. I imagine that is pretty close to what your real reaction would look like."
Sif just stared at him for a moment. "Thanks." She answered wryly.
Thor just grinned fondly. Then his brows creased. "How is it that he does not simply escape by means of his art?"
Sif frowned, and then her face cleared. "I think that this is the room that he warded against magic! I had no idea that that spell would last this long."
Thor raised an eyebrow at her questioningly.
Sif blushed a little bit. "When Loki and I used to spar, I told him that using magic was cheating, but he had trouble controlling it in the heat of the moment, so he charmed one of the back rooms to cancel most of his power."
Thor stared at her for a moment. "I am sorry, Lady Sif. It must be difficult to find that you are using an advantage that he gave you in good faith against him."
Sif nodded numbly. "Should we go get someone?" She asked after a few minutes of no sound except for Loki, still pounding on the door.
"Of course," Thor agreed, "perhaps you could ask my mother to come; she tends to have a calming effect on him."
Sif nodded briskly and set off down a corridor.
Thor turned his back on her retreating form to tell Loki to calm down, but if he had continued to watch her, he might have seen the slightest glimmer of green before she rounded a corner and was out of sight.
~o~o~o~
Fandral eased himself into his chair with a sigh of relief. They had been riding and running all day, and if he ever saw Aragorn again he would kill him for giving Eomer THAT idea. As soon as it was Hogun's turn to ride, the horses seemed to have become reinvigorated, and left him and Volstagg in the dust. Actually there was very little dust involved, but the point stands, they were stranded miles from anywhere and had to jog (stumble and wheeze) the rest of the way to this this pathetic vestige of antiquated civilization.
By the time he and Volstagg had finally shown up, Hogun had already met the king, informed his 'creepy little councilor' of their purpose, and been given leave to go. (That last bit was significant apparently, because the horse people were in some sort of lockdown and liked to keep their strangers close.)
Hogun told them that the king (or the greasy little advisor who appeared to be the real hand of government) had wanted to keep the warriors as assurance that Aragorn and his pose would return, but Eomer had somehow managed to convince the king that the warriors three were not a threat and that Aragorn was a man of his word and would return to give account of his dealings. Eomer had also suggested that no man, however noble, would willingly subject himself to the loud one's company, so the warrior's presence in the mark would be more of a deterrent than an incentive for the ranger's good faith.
Fandral had found that last bit a little offensive, but he was exhausted and thirsty, so it had been easy enough to just take freedom for what it was worth and go find a bar.
That was how he found himself here. It didn't quite meet the Aesir standards, but a bar is a bar, and Elf-boy had said that the booze was to die for, so he might as well give it a shot.
He settled himself into his seat and grinned at a passing bar maid. He received surprisingly little reaction. Huh, his devastating good looks seemed to have been dampened somewhat by the week of traveling through the uncharted wilderness with a ranger who knows less about hygiene than Volstagg knows about temperance.
He was snapped back to the present when Hogun elbowed him sharply in the ribs. Oops, he had kind of zoned out there, and now the dude one table over was staring at him with a really obnoxious smile on his face. You can meet some weirdos in these places.
"You looking at us, pal?" Volstagg challenged. It would have sounded a lot scarier if half of a chicken was not stuck in his beard. The creeper just grinned wider.
"I SAID do you see something funny?" Volstagg was getting a little red (redder) in the face now.
Fandral grinned. Woefully exhausted and irritable Volstagg VS slightly confused and probably drunk Creeper; battle of the century was emblazoned all over it.
"Oh, don't think anything of it, I just was just noticing that you guys look a little out of place."
"You think we look out of place?" Volstagg blustered.
Fandral would have thought that he had over done it with the beverages, but all he had had so far were a couple of pints, and not even of the strong stuff. He must have just been looking for a fight. Or the creepy smile was wearing on him. That would be understandable.
"Well if you wanted to fit in, then you probably should have dressed for the occasion. I mean, you got the time period right, but the location is all wrong. All the people here are dressed from the mid Anglo-Saxon era; you guys are totally dressed as Vikings."
The warriors stared at him uncomprehendingly. People who said that Fandral couldn't hold his alcohol had obviously never seen this guy in action.
The guy took their silence as an invitation and picked up his tankard and moved over to their table. "I mean, nice costumes, very vintage, but you landed in the wrong spot. Not that I can talk, I was aiming for a totally awesome cantina. Local mob boss owes me for that pet I got him." Here he leaned in conspiratorially, "I couldn't find a rancor, but nobody knew what one looked like anyway, so I just made a little hop to pre-deluge, and picked up a dinosaur."
The warriors stared at him in a mixture of confusion and apprehension.
"Seriously guys, help me out a little. I haven't had a chance to talk time travel in ages!" Here he paused, "That last comment is kind of subjective and very hard to verify."
"Um, do we know you?" Hogun asked at last.
"Probably not, people tend to remember this money maker." the man explained, pointing to his face and smiling winningly, "My name's Jack Harness, ex-Time Agent, ex-model, ex-Time Lord companion, and current black market supplier for the shadiest dealer this side of Tatooine, my do-hicky just picked up some time displacement in this area and I thought I would check it out." here the creeper pulled a little blue thing-a-ma-bob from his pocket and buzzed it at them.
The three stared at him blankly.
'Jack' sighed dramatically and pocketed the device. "Seriously guys, just once I would like someone to acknowledge how impressive it is that I actually managed to nick a sonic screwdriver from Mister tall alien and paranoid."
Suddenly the creeper's head was forcibly introduced to a high-speed salt grinder (the big kind). Volstagg stood over him with a triumphant grin, and multiple screams were heard throughout the bar.
Fandral and Hogun stared at Volstagg. Volstagg stared back. Some random old guy with a mustache dropped his glass. "What? He was freaking me out!"
"Why did you have to bean him? He was just a little bit creepy. Over kill buddy, over kill." Fandral admonished with a sad shake of his head.
Volstagg grinned sheepishly, "I just meant to nock some sense into him, I'm used to people with tougher constitutions."
Hogun quietly cleared his throat, and Fandral and Volstagg looked up to see that everyone was now staring at them with looks of wariness and confusion on their faces. In the door way stood three men, one of whom was wearing a funny helmet.
"Is there a problem here, Gentlemen?" asked the helmet man who seemed to be in charge.
Fandral's eyes widened. Helmet dude was Eomer. This was going to be very awkward.
"Dirty horse thief, stole my friend's gelding." Hogun shook his head angrily at the black leather clad body that was still sprawled across the table. Somehow it didn't look as gross as it had a moment ago.
"Horse thief?" The huge, bearded bar-tender clomped to their table, leaving a conspicuous trail of displaced tables in his wake. The man was obviously a veteran; out from under his massive apron stuck several knives not designed for food preparation, and he sported more scars than teeth. He towered over the warriors, and glared at his recently deceased patron.
Fandral suddenly noticed that his throat was uncomfortably dry, but this seemed a bad time to order another round so he just stared up at the giant.
"Any man who steals horses in the Mark has it coming." The bartender spat. With one more disapproving look at the weird stranger, the man gave them all a refill and returned to his counter.
With that, every one turned back to their food, and they heard several people talking in disgruntled tones about the rise in horse thieving recently.
"Death by salt shaker, that's a new one."
Three pairs of eyes snapped up to Eomer who had approached their table unnoticed. Behind Eomer was a slightly built blond with eyes to make Amorra green with jealousy. Not literally green mind you, but that would be funny, they could call her Gomorra. For some reason, that thought seemed a lot funnier than it probably was, and Fandral started giggling uncontrollably.
Eomer looked a little concerned, and edged away a little bit, keeping himself between the arguably unstable man and the woman who was either way out of his league or his sister.
Hogun just rolled his eyes, "My friend has had too many but means no harm, please, join us."
Eomer seemed instantly averse to joining their table, but the blonde girl pulled up a chair and sat down, so after a moment, he followed suit.
The new girl flipped her hair carelessly, and Fandral stared. Forget what he thought earlier, Amorra would so be green right now. He leaned forward slightly, and opened his mouth for a really smooth pickup line, when he noticed Eomer's slightly too placid smirk and the blond girl's conveniently empty dagger sheath. He sat back abruptly and noticed Eomer's approving look. Stupid blonds.
"So, you are Eowyn." Fandral deduced after a slightly awkward silence.
"I am," she lifted her chin challengingly.
"Eomer mentioned that you are shield maiden, and judging by how you wear your sword, you are familiar with weaponry, but if you are a warrior why do you wear a dress?"
"I don't know," she answered tartly, "Why do you?"
Before he could stop himself, Fandral had risen to the bait, "This is not a skirt!"
Eowyn raised her eyebrow.
"It doesn't even look like a skirt; it's just a long shirt."
"So, it's like a tunic." Eowyn surmised.
"Yes, it is a tunic." Fandral agreed.
"It's a very manly tunic with tights and a cape." Eowyn continued.
"This is not a skirt! Does anybody else think it looks even remotely like a skirt?"
"Yeah, it does look a little girly with all that gold stuff and the fluttery cape." supplied the newly conscious Jack.
"Nobody asked for your input, Zombie, and it is a cloak, not a cape." Fandral spluttered.
"It looks like a cape to me." Volstagg whispered to Hogun. He meant it to be quiet, but subtlety was not one of his stronger qualities.
Fandral glared at Volstagg, but, in a rare moment of insight, decided to drop it before his hole got any deeper.
"So, gorgeous," Jack leaned in toward Eowyn with a grin to charm granite, "Wanna get outa here?"
Apparently Eowyn was a little harder than granite, as was Eomer's fist.
Well, Fandral didn't like Jack very much, but he had wanted an excuse to beat Eomer up ever since that little 'incident' when the blond captain had left him and Volstagg stranded without food or horses, so he grabbed a chair and smashed it over Eomer's back. The marshal stumbled forward from the unexpected blow, giving Jack time to recover from a truly wicked left hook.
Fandral's moment of victory was cut short however, as Eowyn kicked his legs out from under him and came up with a lightning quick jab to the back that left him sprawled on his face.
Volstagg flew at Eowyn with a turkey leg still grasped securely in one hand. Suddenly his charge was cut short by a stiff arm. Hogun looked down at his neatly vanquished friend, and then turned, rubbed his slightly bruised fist, and grinned at Eowyn. She grinned back sweetly, and his smile slipped a fraction just as she fell into a crouch and a wooden chair was reduced to splinters over his head.
"No wonder I'm single if that's how you treat my prospective suitors!" she laughed as she launched a blow at Jack.
"It's kinder me than you!" Eomer rejoined as he rammed Fandral into a table. Unfortunately for Eomer, that happened to be the table Volstagg was still under.
Volstagg clambered to his feet, and pulled Eomer off of Fandral. He threw a wild punch that the smaller man dodged with ease.
But now Eomer had an Asgardian on either side, and he realized belatedly, that these men really had no love for him. With a quick motion he threw his weight backwards at Fandral, and kicked his feet upwards around the fat one's shoulders, effectively pinning the larger man's arms to his body. With a quick jerk, he had broken free of Fandral, and thrown Volstagg to the floor once more. He spun on the spot and blocked a blow from Fandral. Suddenly, he was lifted from behind and thrown across the room.
Volstagg laughed in triumph and Fandral winced, "That probably really hurt."
By now almost everyone in the bar was fighting, regardless of side. Eowyn and Hogun had drawn knives and were now attacking each other with a dazzling display of stabs and slashes artfully mixed with a strange conglomeration of footwork and martial styles, Jack was flirting with no one in particular while engaged in vigorous combat with most of the bar's occupants, and the old man with the mustache was selling tickets at the door.
"I hate to say it, but Aragorn was so right." Fandral declared.
"I love this town!" Volstagg agreed, and knocked a random man over the head with his tankard.
Rather than falling over, the man froze and turned around, slowly and menacingly. He was the bartender… and he looked a whole lot less friendly than he had earlier. Volstagg gulped.
Ten minutes of needlessly violent crowd control later, Volstagg rose gingerly to his feet outside the tavern, only to be knocked down again by a very angry Eowyn. He sat up and blinked at her. That was an impressive punch from such a dinky girl. "What was that for?" he demanded woozily. He looked to his fellows for support, but Fandral was dusting himself off from his forced removal at the hands of the bartender… and Hogun was to Eowyn-brainwashed to be any help.
"That was for chucking my brother into a wall, you jerk." She spat.
Volstagg stepped back; she looked weirdly upset, "It was a bar fight, he asked for it." As he said it, he chanced a glance at Eomer. The marshal was sitting on the steps to the tavern holding his ribs and grinning ruefully; he would probably have a couple truly evil bruises, but it wasn't like he had to be fighting fit to defend his world against the forces of evil anytime soon… overprotective sister much?
Eowyn simmered for a moment, murder in her eyes, and Volstagg was getting a little worried for his safety, when Jack helpfully inserted himself.
"Hey, look on the bright side sweetheart," he grinned roguishly, "with big brother slowed down, maybe we can get a bit of privacy."
Jack didn't even have a chance to wipe the stupid smile off his face before Eowyn stabbed him with a knife that looked suspiciously like one of Hogun's, and pushed him back.
Everyone stared for a moment as he crumpled to the ground. Eowyn met their eyes levelly. "He can walk it off." With that, she stepped over Jack and sat by Eomer again.
Fandral edged away from her slowly, and Eomer glared at Hogun until he did as well. Talk about overprotective, good grief. Vostagg rolled his eyes, but made sure that Stab-happy-Amozon-chick didn't see the expression. Contrary to popular belief, Volstagg did occasionally respect the line between brave and stupid.
Finally, Fandral took his life in his hands and muttered, "Seriously, all it takes is dissing Mister blond and Bearded and suddenly you get a knife in your gut?"
"The irony of that statement coming from one who would literally commit treason in order to rescue an arrogant, mass murdering maniac from the universe's cushiest time-out corner since ever is truly nauseating."
All three of them whirled around at the sound of the new voice. And there, draped in his entire green princely splendor, stood Loki.
A/N ll: This has been a... well, very intresting chapter to write, Kementari is nerding out about how everything has to be perfect, actaully, by the time I am done typing this, she probably will have found ten or so grammatical or spelling mistakes, of course, thanks to Kementari, you also can read what I write, which, is a miracle, anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and see you in another *looks at calender* month?