Author's Note
Jumping jellybeans. I have more than 100 followers... if this number was a temperature then we'd be in Texas!
I know what you're going to say... With the whole wide world of triple-digit humor, you go for Texan weather. Pathetic. Well... Who cares? I feel awesome.
Sections entirely in italics denote flashbacks. Dialogue in both "italics and quotations" denote telepathic conversations. Numbers in [brackets] denote footnotes, which you can find at the bottom of the chapter. Nothing from the Marvel universe is mine.
~ Refictionista, February 11, 2015
§ Chapter XXVII §
when secrets are revealed
Natasha cracked her knuckles and rolled her head slowly from side to side.
"I don't see why we're doing this," said Sydney, pulling her hair back with an elastic band. "I threw up a shield against Bruce. It was decent enough."
Bruce cringed, a movement that Sydney noticed even though he was standing far from the training ring. She silently mouthed an apology to him in return.
Steve looked up. "We can't allow you to go..."
"Excuse you... Allow me? I am: one, a grown ass woman, two, a frakin' witch, and three, this is not the time of the month you want to cross me." Steve's face reddened and paled at the same time, an impressive and comedic reaction to his uneasiness with the topic of menses. " You can't stop me, even if you tried." Sydney had turned to face him with her hands on her hips.[47]
The Black Widow smirked and flew forward without warning. She swept her right foot out in a high kick, hitting Sydney directly in the abdomen with a startled grunt. Taken completely by surprise, Sydney fell on her side, and Natasha quickly pinned her to the mat. Sydney thrashed about, her long black ponytail flapping around wildly. The two women were about the same size, but Natasha was stronger by far and wouldn't yield. She twisted Sydney's arm behind her painfully and punched towards her. With great effort, Sydney twisted and moved out of the way. Natasha punched again, hitting the younger woman's shoulder. Sydney tried again to free herself, but Natasha flipped her face down on the mat as she dug her knee into Sydney's upper back. It knocked the wind out of the witch.
Then the redheaded agent jumped up off of the witch wheezing beneath her. "As Steve said, we're doing this because Fury won't allow you to go off world without at least some rudimentary defensive skills," she said.
"I already have some skills," Sydney argued. She started to get up, but then she thought better of it, deciding instead to lay back down. "And since when does Director Fury control how and if I go to a friend's wedding?" She struggled to roll over onto her back. When she finally did, Sydney realized her mistake. She felt like a turtle, unable to get back up.
Natasha gave her an incredulous look. "You're making me think you aren't as smart as everything says you are. What happens if your magic isn't strong enough? What happens if it can only work on Earth? What happens if you don't have enough time or energy? You aren't thinking of this from every angle."
"You aren't putting Jane through this."
"You're complaining."
"I won't disagree with that assessment," said Sydney, closing her eyes and continuing to breathe deeply. "In my humble opinion, those with bruises from super assassins get to do so."
Natasha smirked. "Jane has Thor, you do not."
"I have magic."
"Shove it. We already covered that. You will get up, you will learn some basic maneuvers, and then you will be free to go."
"I don't like being managed. Consequently, you and Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. don't own me."
The Black Widow narrowed her eyes. "This isn't about being controlled. This is about protecting a valuable asset, and since that's you I would think you would take more of a vested interest in what I'm trying to teach you." The uncanny look she gave Sydney make the younger woman wonder if there was another message the agent was trying to convey. "Get up, now."
Sydney somehow managed to roll over and half stumbled across the ring. She slumped down once she made it to the ropes and tried to reach down to the floor below, the new bruises on her arm revealing themselves as she stretched. Bruce jogged forward, grabbed a sports bottle off the floor and then handed it to her. She grunted an approximation of "thanks" and took the bottle from him. She drank greedily, the healing power of the water slowly restoring her energy. If magic helped her recover faster, then maybe they would be down with this training session sooner.
It took a few minutes, but then Sydney rolled her arms in circles around and flexed her should blades back and forth. Her breathing had returned to normal.
"You're good to go." Natasha concluded. Sydney nodded. "It wasn't a question. Now, we try again."
The implication was that Sydney would be better prepared this time. She wasn't. Once again, Natasha had her pinned to the mat. This time, Natasha leaned over to instruct Sydney on how to get out of the hold. She grabbed Sydney's free arm, showing her in slow motion how to use it to free herself. Natasha released Sydney's arm and leaned forward again, closer this time.
Then in words spoken so softly Sydney almost thought she had imagined it, Natasha whispered, "Don't you find it odd that this is the first time you've decided to go somewhere?"
§
Loki knew something was wrong.
Volstagg's words rang in Loki's ears. "Don't let them grab hold of you!" the huge Asgardian warrior had shouted in warning to his comrades after the bare skin of his arm had blackened, necrotized by the freezing touch of the Jötun warrior.
The god of mischief stared down at his forearm. It had turned blue, not black. There were no blisters. There was no pain. The Jötun monster released his grip and Loki's eyes widened as his skin returned to its normal coloring. Loki looked up at his enemy, who's red eyes shared the same confusion that he felt. Neither said anything or made any movement. Loki, realizing the Frost Giant's momentary distraction, took his advantage by thrusting his dagger deep into the creature's neck.
The Frost Giant fell to the rocky dirt with a surprised look forever etched on its face. Loki took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. His glazed eyes were unfocused, but his mind swirled wildly with unwanted thoughts. He looked without blinking from the dead Jötun warrior to his arm and back again.
The sound of fighting broke through the ringing in his ears. He turned to block the attack of another enemy combatant, fighting his way back to his brother and friends. Nothing was going according to his plans. All he wanted was for his father to see how petulant and selfish Thor could be... to reconsider his brother's coronation for a while and give Thor the needed time to mature. Yes, seeing Thor knocked down a few pegs would indulge a petty need for a little schadenfreud, but Loki hadn't wanted anyone killed. Thor was his brother and his friend. Sometimes he was envious, but he never once doubted that he loved Thor.
That guard should be flogged. We never should have reached Jötunheim, thought Loki. Where is father?
Loki cleared his mind and readied another spell. The ice above them shattered, fracturing into razor-sharp icicles that glinted in the dismal frozen field. Loki unleashed the energy to use the Jötun's own landscape against them in a swarm of icy shards, though it did no good in stopping the oncoming assault.
The Warriors Three and Sif now had doubts etched deep in their faces. They couldn't hold out against the unending numbers of Jötun warriors for much longer. Fandral had just killed one when he was stabbed in the shoulder with an icicle. Hogun and Volstagg pulled their friend up as he howled in pain. Loki threw one of his daggers at the same monster who was now trying to impale Sif as well. She shared a look with him, and it seemed that they were in agreement for once.
"Thor!" Sif called, hoping that he would see how they were outnumbered. Unfortunately, she had not attained Thor's attention to the dire situation.
His brother continued to swing Mjölnir at their enemies, but the others noticed that for each Jötun that fell there would be five more that took its place.
Perhaps he was still too petulant and selfish to admit their defeat and retreat, Loki realized. These horrors had come to them because he alone had recognized that Thor was in no way fit to be king. He had allowed the desire for petty pleasure to overwhelm the purpose of his schemes.
"We must go!" Loki shouted. His brother had to grasp the foolishness of staying. Loki could fix this. He was the master of manipulation. They would survive and make it back to Asgard. Thor would mature, he would...
"Then go!" the crown prince declared. Loki felt a constriction on his heart once he noticed that Thor's eyes were filled with bloodlust.
Nothing had gone according to plan. None of his contingencies could adapt to this. Loki looked down at his hand. His nails had dug into the flesh of his palm so hard that there were crescent shaped clefts of blood. The wet red marks stood out in stark contrast to his ivory skin. He remembered...
Something was wrong.
§
"So am I going to see much of you on Asgard?" asked Sydney. Loki didn't respond, giving her bruises a questioning glance. "Don't ask," she said. He sat down next to her, the couch nearly tilting her towards his direction from his weight.
"Why did you not heal yourself?" he asked, knowing full well that one of the perks for being a witch of the west was that water could heal almost any of her ailments. He was displeased to see that her translucent skin magnified the dark circles under her eyes.
"Worried that I'll embarrass you and your brother by looking like an incompetent warrior?"
"No, I'll be sure to keep my distance," he replied in a haughty voice. "You're a water elemental; you could have easily healed yourself."
"I... She kept hitting and kicking." Sydney's eyes flicked over to Natasha. "I was hoping to elicit her sympathy. Get her to stop."
"A foolish strategy that didn't work."
Sydney cringed. "Oh, really? You think?" His eyes narrowed. It seemed he didn't appreciate the sarcasm. "Will you be there for much of the wedding?" She had heard that he spent him time in prison while he and his brother returned to Asgard.
"Why do you ask?"
"Well, I was trying to plan ahead, because I wanted to make sure I had someone to talk to."
"You will find little intellectual stimulation in the realm," he snorted and then gave her a sly smile. "Though I'm sure you will easily find some dimwitted fool interested in keeping you otherwise entertained."
"Like you haven't looked at me the same way. Don't be crude if you feel that others are beneath you when they do so."
"True. You are fair of face and form, but it is boorish of me to stare admiringly at someone so far beneath my station in life."
For a moment, Sydney didn't respond. Then, a glass of ice water on the coffee table started boiling. She realized how incensed she was at his words and got up, wanting to leave before others noticed her lapse in control again.
"Stop," he commanded in a regal voice. "Please wait and let me explain further."
"Why bother explaining to someone so far beneath you?" she asked. "No, I think I'll find Tony and Bruce." He gave her a beleaguered look, but she wasn't affected. "You... You are as loathsome as a toad... mucilaginous and venomous!" By the goddess, she sucked when it came to effectively scathing comebacks.
"I see," he replied calmly.
The lack of response on his part only pissed Sydney off more. "That was an insult, in case you are having difficulties figuring it out."
"Lady, I quite understood; however, you did not. Though those were my words, I did mean to imply you are beneath my station. The truth is that I have no rank or standing, as I am the monster parents tell their children about at night." He reached for her wrist. "Stay." It was a request this time, not a command.
Sydney noticed Steve watching them with concern, his focus on Loki's hand.
Surely there was a limit on how many second chances one could give another. Though, she could play nice... for Jane's sake. Sydney nearly laughed out loud at her own attempt to hoodwink herself. The truth was that the fraction of the time that she enjoyed Loki's company more than made up for the majority of the time that she wanted to throw things at him. "Okay," she decided. Loki dropped her wrist, but Steve was still watching them. "I'm going to refresh my drink first." She grabbed the still hot glass by the rim at the top. "I'll be right back."
The subdued god of lies watched her leave, then turned his attention to the overly protective soldier. The mortal gave him a look of warning before turning away. It mattered little what the do-gooder thought, for the only opinion that mattered was Sydney's. Mucilaginous, Loki chuckled to himself. He had underestimated the seductive power of decent vocabulary... though it wasn't her lexicon that turned him on.
§
[47] Oh, Sleepy Hallow, how I love thee... and Tom Mison.
