XIX

Five thousand four hundred and thirty seventh cycle of Odin Borsson's reign

Still in East-of-Ragnar's-Fjord – there is no moon this night, the sky is full black, but judging by Thor's snoring it must be very late

I do not wish to stay in this backwater village much longer.

It is not… the trip has been diverting, to be sure. I have learned much of Midgard that I could not have read in the library. But I –

It is not that I am averse to the attention of the mortals.

I only –

It is only that they stare like they are waiting for me to do something. They look at me, like they're expecting to see the tricks of a well-trained dog, or the snap and bite of a rabid one. They do not stare at Thor with such strange expressions. I thought they wanted to see a display of seidr, but when I conjured an emerald flame in my palm, they scurried away. I do not know what to make of them.

I am afraid they do not like me. I shouldn't care for their opinion – they are only mortals. I am a prince. But it is frustrating because I don't understand what I have done wrong.

Thor – never mind.

Sometimes I eavesdrop on the mortals. It is the most effective method to find out what they're thinking, after all. They call me Sly One. Fire Bringer. Seidmadr. Not Odinsson, nor Prince.

Perhaps they call me such because - well. Mortals have a curious tendency to avoid using true names. They show greater sense than some Æsir in that, at least. Names have power, Mother told me so. She frowns when she hears any in the palace call me Trickster. She repeats my full name like a prayer afterwards. Loki Odinsson, Loki Odinsson.

Oftentimes, she does not make any sense. But it is alright. I love her because she is sweet and kind and my mother. She doesn't always choose Thor over me like everyone else.

Loki Odinsson, Prince of Asgard.

Also – Thor keeps calling me Goat-Lover. Simply because I am advocating on behalf of beasts that cannot speak up in their own defense! He's a simpleton and could not come up with a better insult. Regardless, I do not think I shall take that name as one of my kennings.


XX

"Mr. Eld, would you care to explain the phone call you received from a certain known Centipede employee?" Coulson's tone is menacing in its blandness.

Eld's shrug is unaffected. "Well, I am in the business of consulting."

"Consulting?" May repeats tersely.

"Why yes, did I not mention?" Lukas grins sharply. "The lady offered me a position. The benefits are quite lucrative. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s consultant pay is a pittance in comparison." He waves an elegant, long-fingered hand in a gesture encompassing the room. "Someone should probably send a memo about that."

Fitz sucks in a sharp breath, and hears Jemma at his side do the same. He can't believe it. Eld had been in their lab, teasing and joking with them, and the whole time he was planning on selling them out to Centipede? What kind of person could even do that? Could keep not only a straight face, but a friendly attitude with them? That kind of cognitive dissonance made Fitz's head spin.

Maybe as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent he shouldn't have been caught off guard. Maybe he should be paranoid, or constantly vigilant or whatever. But for all S.H.I.E.L.D. is a spy agency, Fitz doesn't think about himself that way. Most of his work – at least on the surface – has nothing to do with actual infiltration or espionage.

"You're working for Centipede," Agent Coulson says flatly. He is tensed; hand in a position to grab his gun. Fitz sees May ready her stance, subtly shifting her weight. Ward's body is straining forward in his seat, every line tense.

"Of course not," Lukas waves him off. "I did say offered, didn't I? S.H.I.E.L.D. approached me first – and here we are."

"What, that's your employment strategy? First come, first serve? And what if the first happens to be a criminal organization with allowances in their budget for kidnapping and interrogation?" Roberts snaps. The woman looks personally offended. She did bring him in, Fitz concedes. She has the right to feel a little betrayed.

Eld's green eyes glint. "Illegal activity did not come up in our initial conversation, believe it or not. Her sales pitch was infinitely more subtle." He laces his long fingers together. "But during that very same conversation… I may have led her to the conclusion I was considering her offer." His teeth are blindingly white when he smiles. "The communication you intercepted was a renegotiation of my demands."

"I see. And what demands were those?" Coulson inquires, deceptively mild.

"Hmm… let's see." Lukas starts ticking off items on his fingers. "A flat rate of one thousand dollars for every consultation, in addition to my hourly rate of three hundred and fifty. A diamond Rolex engraved with the words To my dearest Roseanne. A case of the most exquisite brand of Russian vodka I tried once on a sojourn to Eastern Europe." He frowns in contemplation before snapping his fingers. "Oh, yes, and a Starbucks Gold Card."

Fitz stares at him. The guy hadn't seemed barmy when they brought him in. But he's completely nonchalant and unbothered by discussing his – his fraternization with the enemy, or whatever. He's not sure what to call this.

Skye's brown eyes are wide. "Damn! What kind of consulting do you do, exactly? I thought you were some kinda stuffy historian."

"I have many talents, my lady Skye," Lukas demurs. "Beyond my expertise in my chosen academic field, I am rather skilled in oration. A silver tongue, you could say." Fitz rolls his eyes at the silky tone of voice he uses to deliver innuendo. The guy gets ousted as a spy once and thinks he's the next Double-Oh-Seven.

Skye can't suppress a snort, and wait, are her eyes actually twinkling? Coulson shoots her a stern glare. Fitz is almost impressed with the guy's nerve to try and butter up their agents while explaining how he double-crossed them. He notices Simmons blushing, though Roberts and May are stony and unimpressed.

"Well, how fantastic for you, getting two paychecks. If we hadn't caught this communication, would you have ever clued us in?" Roberts demands. "Or would you have let us walk right into a Centipede trap?"

Lukas purses his lips. "I had thought you'd be pleased. After all, I believe I've just confirmed the location of your ring for you."

Coulson's gaze snaps to Eld's. "You're sure Centipede has the ring?"

"Yes. I suspected as much when she first approached me, and thought it prudent to allow her to believe I was interested in her offer. Once I could confirm she was in possession of the ring, I could inform S.H.I.E.L.D. and arrange for it to be confiscated."

The explanation is logical enough, Fitz thinks. But that's definitely not the way S.H.I.E.L.D. likes to operate. Coulson's hard exterior doesn't so much as flicker. "That's a convenient way to spin the story," he says.

"When did Raina approach you?" Roberts asks, clipped and serious.

"Yesterday, after I left this office. I did not know who she was, nor did I have any inclination who she worked for." Eld spreads his hands wide. "I knew not of Centipede. Obviously I was suspicious, to be approached by two organizations in as many weeks. My academic expertise is quite narrow. I concluded she was after much the same information as you – regarding the ring."

"Why didn't you tell us right away?" Roberts demands.

"She did not ask me to do anything illegal, nor to report on S.H.I.E.L.D. She simply warned me away from working with you and presented a counteroffer. And she then cautioned me of your agency's history of deceit." Eld purses his lips. "To be perfectly honest, I needed time to ruminate over my choice. I do not know you, any of you, very well. I know not your methods, your organization's goals or desires."

"Put in the simplest terms, I was given two opportunities to consult on much the same subject, yet one paid much higher than the other. Can you blame me for giving the choice due consideration?" Eld implores.

Fitz does have to admit S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't exactly have a time-and-a-half policy or anything. He could kind of see Eld's reasoning. Suddenly curious, he blurts, "What made you change your mind? I mean, why did you choose us over Raina? That's what you're saying, isn't it?"

Eld's gaze darts to him. His eyes are creased at the corners, lips turned down a fraction, almost troubled. When he speaks, his voice is soft. "I interviewed your Agent Morris. I saw what she and her ilk did to him. Seeing pictures of the burns wasn't… wasn't anything like meeting him in person." Eld looks away, to the windows. "I knew I couldn't work with someone who would reduce a good man to a guilt-ridden, gibbering mess. No matter the rhetoric she spouted about the dangers of working with S.H.I.E.L.D."

Coulson is studying Eld keenly; seemingly content to let him continue his explanation. "I resolved to speak to you, Agent Coulson, after we'd left the facility where Agent Morris is being held. His description of the woman fit the one I had met much too closely to be coincidence. But what with the search for the doctors, I didn't want to interrupt… and I do not have any information on the missing woman's whereabouts or a potential base camp in this city," he finishes. "If it became relevant, I would have informed you. As it was, I didn't want to give you cause to mistrust me or shun my assistance when you most need it."

"That didn't quite work out the way you planned," Roberts deadpans.

The consultant gives her a wry smile. "The circumstances do cast my hesitance in a terribly suspicious light." He shakes his head. "I regret letting her words influence my opinion of your agency. She is… most convincing."

"That is her specialty," Fitz points out. "Raina can twist anything to her advantage."

Eld tilts his chin and his gaze downwards. "Like my inexperience. And my reservations about working for a foreign government agency."

Coulson glances between the two of them. Fitz knows he understands Raina best out of all them, and he can see the agreement in his expression. The supervisory agent folds his arms across his chest and sighs. "I don't blame you for not trusting us right off the bat."

"Sir –"

He waves Agent Roberts down. She subsides with a grumble. "You're not an agent, and you're barely a consultant. Usually, we ease our consultants in, get them used to working with S.H.I.E.L.D. I didn't expect this to turn into a top priority situation. But we're the good guys here. Raina doesn't care if she hurts people in pursuit of her goals. We care about protecting them. That's the distinction you need to remember."

Eld is no longer disaffected or nonchalant. He nods, and his expression is clear and earnest when he meets Coulson's searching gaze unblinkingly. "What did Raina say in her call? What did she say exactly?" Coulson asks.

"She wanted to meet to finalize our agreement," Eld answers immediately. "She said she would contact me later with an address and a time." The consultant frowns, looking suddenly uncertain. "You don't think… that she'll have Dr. Flagretti there?"

Coulson and May exchange meaningful looks. As always, Fitz gets the feeling they're communicating telepathically. "I don't know," Coulson admits. "It's possible. Or she'll want to meet in a public place instead of their base."

Eld adjusts in his chair, spine ramrod straight. Fitz had forgotten how tall the man is. "I want to go to the meeting," he announces. "I want to go and see if I can convince her to let slip some information on the doctor's location."

"You're not a field agent," Ward reiterates. "You've barely clocked twenty-four hours as a consultant. We can't just send you out undercover."

Eld appeals to Coulson. "She wants my expertise. I can convince her to show me the ring so I may examine it. I could confirm beyond a doubt its authenticity and that it is in her possession at the very least, even if I cannot glean any knowledge of Dr. Flagretti's whereabouts."

Fitz can tell Coulson is wavering. Such an opportunity comes about very rarely. The agency hasn't had any luck infiltrating Centipede so far, not that they'd tried very hard. At first, Centipede hadn't warranted the manpower or focus. Other threats were dominating S.H.I.E.L.D.'s time. Now that they posed a real danger, the agency didn't have much to go on.

"It is only a quick meeting to renegotiate my contract. I will not be in any undue danger. She is confident I mean to accept – her terms, after all, are infinitely more appealing than S.H.I.E.L.D.'s. From a solely rational perspective, at least," Eld presses.

"You'd have to be outfitted with a camera and mic," Coulson says slowly.

Fitz perks up. "I've got just the little beauty down in the lab! I've been fiddling around with the standard button camera. Instead of just linking up with a processor and monitor back here at the base and transmitting video, I've created a program to help analyze the visual data it receives in real-time. It's got facial recognition, an infrared filter, a lip-reading function for conversations too far away to hear –"

"Does it have a mic?" May interrupts.

Fitz is almost offended. "Of course. Do I look like I was born yesterday?"

Ward opens his mouth and Coulson waves him off. "Don't answer that." Fitz dares a quick glare in the grim field agent's direction. The program would be effective, integrated with the video and sound functions of the button cam as it was. It hadn't taken long to compile the code. Really, it had been a side project he'd fiddled with to help him think about larger and more important ones. The end result was useful, so he'd kept it.

Coulson leans across the table. "And how do we know you're not going to just turn around and tell Raina all you heard here? Divulge everything S.H.I.E.L.D. told you?"

Eld doesn't flinch. "What would be the point? You know that her organization approached me. There is no veil of secrecy to protect me now if I chose to accept her offer. And I have no wish to spend the rest of my life hiding from your scrutiny. "

He shrugs. "And even if I did momentarily lose my wits and decide to tell-all, what do I know that she does not already? That she most likely has the ring, yes. I'm sure that won't be a revelation to her. I have theories regarding its abilities, which she has obviously puzzled out already. I know that she has used it on at least one member of S.H.I.E.L.D., an agent which she deemed unimportant enough to release instead of kill. I know these details, and I know you are aware of them as well – that is all. We also have suspicions of her future plans. If the woman has any measure of intellect, she will operate under the assumption S.H.I.E.L.D. already has some inkling. You approached me first, after all."

Even though Coulson pulls May, Ward, and Roberts into a whispered discussion in the corner, Fitz knows he'll end up agreeing. Time is too short, and the risks are too great to let this chance slide by.

He turns from their impromptu conference. None of the other agents look pleased, but that might be just the default expression drilled into every field agent in the Academy. "Fine," Coulson says shortly. "We'll send you in."

Eld inclines his head. "Thank you."

"But don't think for one second that's the end of this conversation. You can't just go around the chain of command and not expect consequences. That's not how S.H.I.E.L.D. works, and we uphold our consultants to the same standards as our agents."

Fitz thinks of Tony Stark and then wisely decides not to comment. Coulson shoos them all out of the conference room, on the phone again barking out orders to prepare the roof helipad. Fitz leads Eld back down to the lab, where his little pet project is waiting, discarded and partially dismantled in a corner of the bench that runs along the far wall.

Roberts trails after, powerfully irritated and not afraid of showing it. Fitz has never seen the typically laidback agent so ill-tempered, not even when Brock ate all the yogurts she'd brought for lunch to last her the week, despite the label done up in thick black permanent marker – 'this is Brenna's DO NOT EAT or i will eviscerate you- and i mean YOU BROCK.'It had taken six yogurt lids across to fit the message in its entirety. Brenna had seen him eating them, stared for a minute, then shrugged and left. The next week, pictures of Brock dressed up as Director Fury with a beer bong in his mouth at an unsanctioned Halloween party had circulated throughout S.H.I.E.L.D.'s email directory. A pale, stricken Brock had been summoned to the Triskelion, then been sent on an 'official' mission to the middle of the desert to monitor the sky every night for signs of swirling lights.

An obvious load of rubbish, but Fitz found it hard to summon any sympathy. The man was absolutely boorish. Fitz suppresses a giggle as remembers he still has that photo assigned to Brock's contact info in his email account. Roberts is laidback, sure - but she's no pushover.

He works quickly to reassemble the cam. The silence is thick and awkward until Eld breaks it. "I hope you know… it was not my intention to deceive you."

"No? Well you did a damn good job of it," Roberts snaps.

"My reticence was perhaps ill-advised but surely you can understand that I needed time with which to consider—"

"You know," Fitz breaks in. "I do understand it." Maybe not the ill-advised reticence or whichever euphemism he uses to describe it. But last time he checked, being self-interested isn't a crime. Fitz is aware enough of the allure of money – damned if it wouldn't be nice to pay off the loans he's accrued due to the absurd cost of American university – and it's not like Eld's an agent; he hasn't sworn an oath. Other than the NDA, if that counts. And he hadn't actually done anything yet, only thought about it. Jemma has always been the more levelheaded of their lab-slash-friend-slash-life partnership – he has a hard time defining what's between them – but even Fitz thinks the field agents are overreacting. It might have something to do with being caught flat-footed by Intel Analysis digging up dirt on their own consultant.

"And that's not what I'm upset about," he says. Eld looks at him, wary and puzzled. "Come on," Fitz prompts with irritation. "You haven't even apologized. In all that explaining you did, there wasn't a single apology."

Eld pauses, mouth open to retort. He shuts it again. Fitz watches him stop and start two more times before he observes dryly, "You're not used to apologies, are you?"

He clears his throat. "I – don't make a habit of giving them."

"Hm." Fitz turns back to the button cam and waits. A few minutes pass before Eld speaks up again.

"I am – not sorry for meeting with her. Or considering her offer." Fitz turns to shoot him an incredulous glance. Eld twists his fingers together. "But – for what it's worth… I regret you were affected by my well-intentioned omission."

Fitz sighs. "I have a feeling that's the best I'm gonna get. Okay. Fine. I forgive you."

Eld stares at him. "I did not ask for your forgiveness."

"Well, you've explained yourself and apologized. So you've got it."

His expression turns from blankly surprised to something akin to condescending pity. "Don't look at me like that," Fitz snips. "I'm a reasonable guy. You didn't hurt any of us, and like I said, you explained yourself and apologized. Sort of," he snorts. "And you're going in undercover, risking your own safety to help us find Dr. Flagretti. So, between you and me, things are clear. We're good."

Eld frowns suspiciously at him but does not reject Fitz's statement. Roberts studies him with thoughtful consideration. She crosses her arms over her chest. "Well, I won't be as quick to forgive, but I do see his point. You're working to make up for it, at least."

From Eld's expression, it's plain he thinks the two of them are bizarre. "I thought you were supposed to be covert agents. You must know it is not wise to extend such premature forgiveness before I have even completed this task."

"Are you trying to convince us to hold a grudge?" Fitz asks in bewilderment. Lukas Eld is undoubtedly a contrary character.

"Well – no. I suppose not." Eld clears his throat and looks away. "Simply a bit of friendly advice." Fitz hides a smile and bends over to finish reassembling his button cam. He isn't about to take a leap of faith for the slippery bloke anytime soon, but depending on how this meeting goes, they might have a lead on Dr. Flagretti's location. That's enough for now.