Rated T

I've had an Avengers-obsessed weekend and my writing has carried me about four chapters ahead, up to the battle for New York. Sorry to my Child of the Dark Moon followers, but I don't have the next chapter for THAT fic ready yet, thanks to Snape wanting to play with the Avengers instead. So I decided to let him wear himself out here, and I'll get back to Dark Moon when I can.

Enjoy!

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Chapter Five: Kneel

Severus and Natasha Romanoff made one more round of the flying vessel's upper deck in silence before anything happened. The red-haired woman suddenly lifted a hand to her ear and her eyes sharpened while growing slightly distant. Severus realized she must have a communications device in her ear, as her footsteps slowed and she stopped altogether, clearly listening intently to something that made her lips tighten and her eyes flash dangerously.

She blinked, murmured, "On my way, Black Widow out," and spun on her heel, walking quickly back toward the hangar they had passed a few minutes back. Severus didn't hesitate, and simply followed her, gliding soundlessly along in her wake like a shadow.

"Where do you think you're going?" Natasha demanded over her shoulder.

"Are you planning to leave me unguarded?" Severus asked with a slight smirk. "Who knows what secrets I could uncover or nefarious plans I could carry out while you're gone?"

Natasha slowed and frowned slightly. "You should return to Dr. Banner. Your friend's probably wondering where you've been."

"The guard will not allow me in," Severus rejoined with a knowing smirk. "So unless you approve of letting me wander your top-secret flying machine un-chaperoned, I will be forced to accompany you so that you can continue your 'mission' of stalking me."

The red-haired agent stopped altogether and glared impressively up at him. "Fury didn't say anything about me taking you anywhere."

Severus allowed his lips to twitch into an amused sneer. "Ah, has Fury already forgotten about me? Tsk, I'm almost offended."

Natasha scowled still more. "I'm not taking a civilian into a battle zone. You'll be in the way."

"Ms. Romanoff, I can assure you that I am most certainly not a simple civilian, and I think you know this already," Severus said in almost a whisper, stepping closer to her in order to flaunt his superior height. "And I will not be 'in your way'. Have you forgotten that I am a doctor? Should you or your compatriots need medical attention; do you have an adequate field medic among your number?"

"You're seriously a medical doctor?"

"I may not have degrees from the best medical schools in the world, but I can assure you that I can work miracles with barely any equipment."

Natasha studied his face with a suspicious scowl. "Why are you so eager to come along?" she demanded frostily. "You don't even know where we're going or who we're fighting."

Severus allowed a smirk to grace his lips. "Call me … curious." He was curious, yes. And bored. Going along on some mission with a SHIELD agent could be educational, not to mention entertaining. He was desperately curious to know what could possibly be threatening such an advanced and secret organization that they would risk bringing The Hulk aboard their secret vessel.

Natasha arched an eyebrow at him. "And what help do you think someone like you is going to be against Loki?"

Severus' brain stuttered to a halt. Did she say Loki? Was that a code name of some sort? Surely she didn't mean the Norse god of chaos and mischief. The name Loki was held in particular reverence in the magical world, being the god of magic and protector of wizards since olden times. But Severus regarded Loki's name with loathing. The Marauders had practically worshipped the cult of Loki in their day, invoking his inspiration while tormenting the smaller boy, causing the demi-god to earn Severus' undying contempt and hatred whenever his name was mentioned. Somehow, (he had no idea how) the Weasley twins had discovered his hatred of the trickster god and had played a few pranks on him that evoked Loki, either in pictures, runes, or reference.

"Loki," Severus repeated flatly. "What sort of secret agent is he that you consider him so dangerous?"

"He's no secret agent," the woman scoffed, peering at him curiously. "He isn't even human. He's the one who stole the Tesseract. Haven't you ever heard of Loki? From the Norse Myths?"

Again, Severus was struck dumb. It couldn't possibly be … could it? "You are telling me, Ms. Romanoff," Severus hissed icily. "That Loki, the same immortal being of chaos and deception from Norse Mythology, stole a piece of human technology and you, a mere mortal, are planning to meet him in battle?"

"…Pretty much," Natasha smiled dangerously. "Still want to tag along?"

"You are mad," Severus stated flatly. "Do you truly think that you have any chance of survival battling against a creature like that?"

Her eyes grew cold and deadly. "He captured my partner," she said flatly. "Hawkeye. Loki will die for that."

"Ah, a personal vendetta," Severus sneered. "Going into battle filled with righteous indignation and thoughts of revenge will serve you ill. Loki will manipulate your emotions to the fullest, if he truly is the same creature of legends."

"Fury's sending a team in, it won't just be me," Natasha said impatiently. "But if you want in, you'll stay with me, where I can keep an eye on you."

"A team of humans against a god," Severus shook his head pityingly. "Surely you see how futile it is."

"We're the Avengers. We don't do futile missions." Natasha Romanoff gave him a cold, dangerous smile. "So are you saying you'd rather I lock you in your room? Because if you're too scared to come, I can arrange that."

But nothing in the universe was going to keep him from joining her now. If she died because of her stupidity he would blame himself for not coming along. If he was going to reveal his abilities, doing so while battling Loki-the-cursed seemed like as good a time as any.

"On the contrary," Severus said dismissively. "It seems someone must come along to make certain you are not slain indiscriminately by an immortal being of immeasurable power. Simply allow me to scold you for your arrogance later as I tend to your various injuries. If you survive."

"You're on," Natasha Romanoff replied coolly. "Now we'd better hurry or we'll miss the jet."

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The quinjet was running and ready to go as Natasha Romanoff strode across the noisy, bustling hangar. Severus followed her, the air-draft from the jet whipping his coat around his body. Every emotion and instinct was telling him that this was probably the stupidest thing he'd ever done. He was going into battle against a being calling itself Loki with the powers to back up his claims, alongside several unknown individuals who would more than likely regard him with suspicion, if not outright hostility. He should have just snuck off when Natasha got the call.

But perhaps Albus Dumbledore was right. He'd been sorted too early. Years of fighting alongside idiotically impulsive Gryffindors had caused him to pick up some bad habits, apparently. This was probably the most impulsive thing he had ever done. What was he thinking? But he couldn't deny that he was … excited. Yes, that was the best word for the fluttery flame that had been ignited in his chest. He had gone too long without heart-stopping danger around every corner. Lily once accused him of being an adrenaline addict. Dumbledore had even asked him once if he enjoyed being a spy more than a teacher, because of rather than in spite of, the danger.

He couldn't say either of them had read him wrong. There was something about matching himself against a stronger enemy that invigorated him. Matching his wits against the Marauders, who outnumbered him four to one; matching mind magicks against the Dark Lord, the greatest Legilimens of his generation; matching his prowess in battle against both the Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix … he had enjoyed the challenge, and if anything, being up against impossible odds just made him stronger. Maybe he was a masochist, but the thought of fighting Loki after so many years of hating his very name filled him with giddy excitement. If at any moment his magical abilities would be revealed, it would be best, and most impressive, if they were revealed in battle against a superior foe. Call it the Slytherin in him, but he only wanted to reveal his capabilities in the best possible light.

Stepping into the aircraft behind the red-haired agent, he observed only two others joining them. One man, his blond hair and blue eyes unmistakable, was Captain Rogers, but he had changed his clothes. He now wore a form-fitting suit of blue and silver with a star emblazoned on the chest. He carried a round metal shield, painted red and blue, with a silver star in the center. He regarded Severus with a suspicious look, his blue eyes sharp and focused, and Severus gave him a very contemptuous sneer before turning his attention to the other man. He was wearing a bulky metal suit of Gryffindor red and gold and his face was unfortunately also familiar.

"Hey, looks like James Bond's gonna be joining us," the man in the red suit of armor greeted him cheerfully. "You don't happen to have a bazooka hidden under that jacket, do you?"

Severus gave him the sneer that his juvenile comment deserved, and took a seat. He wondered if it was too late to back out. If this annoying music-loving technician was joining them in a bulky-looking suit of armor, he wasn't sure if either of them would survive the trip. But he had always been a glutton for punishment, so he stoically ignored the dark-haired idiot and settled himself in a seat, checking his pockets for the ointments and other medical supplies he had fetched from his room earlier.

"He's coming?" Captain Rogers asked, arching his eyebrows at Natasha. "I thought you said he was a 'wrinkle'. And Fury didn't say anything about Dr. Slytherin coming along for the ride."

"Change of plans, Cap," the woman replied carelessly. She sat down across from Severus and strapped herself in. Severus copied her example even while his stomach flipped nervously. He wasn't looking forward to flying right back out so soon after his last quinjet flight.

Captain Rogers shrugged, even while giving Severus a suspicious look, and sat down, strapping himself in with about as much difficulty as Severus. The man in the red armor remained standing, and his metal hand grasped a bar overhead to steady himself.

"We're off to see the wizard!" the armored man announced in an overly cheerful tone. "Can I be the tin man?"

"Sit down, Stark," Captain Rogers said sternly. "I'm not picking you up if you fall down."

"Okay, now that's just mean," 'Stark' retorted, making no move to sit. "But I'm perfectly fine here, and thanks for caring."

"Hold on, we're taking off," Natasha Romanoff interrupted their bickering.

The quinjet rumbled and began to stir. Severus gripped the sides of his chair, (though not too tightly) and stared fixedly at a rivet in the wall above Natasha's red hair. With a swooping sensation, the jet took to the skies and accelerated. Once they leveled out, Severus relaxed his grip on the seat, but apparently, his discomfort had not gone unnoticed. The man in the armor was watching him with amusement on his stubbled face.

"Flying's not quite your thing?" he quipped. "That's really too bad, 'cause you'd make a great vampire bat. You've got the nasty scowl and black vibes and everything."

"Mr. Stark, if that is your name, kindly shut your mouth, or I will shut it for you," Severus ordered in a deceptively calm tone.

"Real people person, isn't he?" Stark snorted. He didn't shut his mouth, but he stopped quipping at Severus, so the wizard ignored him. He tuned in again when he realized they were reviewing the mission. Someone activated a holographic map of the city they were traveling to, and Severus gave the map his attention, while silently absorbing the banter of his travel companions.

"So they managed to pinpoint the energy surge already," Captain Rogers said. "Fury said it would take about twenty minutes from the first surge to full power before it became a stable portal."

"It's centered in Stuttgart," Stark in the armor added. "Somehow, I don't think the guy was just craving a German hamburger."

"It could be that his operations are in Stuttgart, or it could be that he is attempting to open a gateway in Stuttgart," Natasha speculated. "But what's in Stuttgart to bother with?"

Stark shrugged. "Besides some of the best sausages you'll ever eat and some damn hot German chicks, I've got nothing."

"Don't tell me you're familiar with Stuttgart," Captain Rogers asked curiously.

"I own like two hotels in the old section," Stark smirked arrogantly. "Plus, a lot of my stocks sell really well in Stuttgart."

"Somehow, I doubt Loki's going to invade Stuttgart for bratwurst and prostitutes," Natasha interrupted them impatiently. "We'll be landing soon and it's imperative that we be in position before he moves."

"Looks like the energy surge will put him awful close to the Opera House," the man in the red armor said flippantly. "D'you think he just really wants to see himself in a Wagner play?"

"Wagner wrote operas, not plays," Severus suddenly interjected, his low voice dripping with scorn. "And Loki is not a character in the Ring cycle, regardless. He is simply choosing a theatrical stage where he can threaten the world. Many rich and powerful people will be in Stuttgart, at this very Opera House you speak of, in fact. It is only logical that he would decide to make a demonstration before taking over the world."

"Well excuse me, Professor Einstein, we can't all be experts in tasteless foreign entertainment," Stark snorted, folding his metal-encased arms. "What's your official role in this impromptu mission, again?"

"He's medical and back-up," Natasha Romanoff replied too quickly for Severus to respond. "He'll be with me."

"Just so long as I'm not babysitting," Stark shrugged. He checked something on his wrist and reached up to his head. A helmet literally grew out of nowhere and encased his head in glowing red and gold. "ETA in five, I'll fly recon," he said briskly, his voice muffled by the helmet. Stepping to the quinjet door, he turned his robot face and said over his shoulder, "See you on the ground," and dove out into the dark, windy night.

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Their pilot dropped them off a block away from the square, leaving them free to jog to where Stark said Loki had appeared. As they hurried along the damp, dark street, Severus accepted the earpiece Natasha handed him, still not understanding why she seemed to trust him with them so easily. Rogers obviously didn't. But perhaps, Severus thought, he was being tested. After all, Severus had pointed out to Fury that he wouldn't be trusted on blind faith. If they were attempting to analyze his threat potential, he suddenly realized that under all circumstances, he must keep his abilities under wraps. One sight of a spell flying from his fingers, and SHIELD would never get their claws off him.

It was almost a disappointing realization, but Severus could live with that. He would still get to see these 'Avengers' in action, and from the looks of things, it would probably get interesting.

After managing to secure the small device in his ear, he could hear Stark feeding them audio from the square in front of the Opera House and Museum, and it sounded like a fine panic was breaking out. People were shrieking and screaming and crying out for others to call the police; all in German, of course. Severus, ever terrible with any language but Latin, didn't understand much, but someone named JARVIS was overlapping their cries with translations in crisp British tones. Severus didn't know why this annoyed him.

The wizard almost dropped to a halt when a crisp, arrogant voice suddenly appeared in his earpiece, thundering at the crowd to kneel. The riot quieted down almost instantly, bewildered mutters taking the place of panicked screams. Severus felt his skin prickle uncomfortably at the sound of the cool, cultured voice. It sounded so much like when he, and the first recruits, had met the Dark Lord for the first time. Tom Riddle had pompously, arrogantly, ordered his new slaves to kneel before feeding the group of impressionable youth a lengthy speech filled with rousing epithets and attractive promises.

"There," the soft, dangerous voice in Severus' earpiece said more calmly, over the soft murmur of the uneasy crowd. "Isn't this better? Is this not your natural state?"

Severus shivered. The words were spoken in a grand, but gentle tone, and they were all wrong. This must be the voice of Loki he was hearing.

"Hey guys, in position yet?" Stark's voice suddenly murmured over their communication devices.

"Almost there," Captain Rogers hissed as he raised a hand to his ear. He darted a quick glance at Natasha and Severus. "You two handle perimeter, get the civilians out of the way. Me and Stark will get Loki. Got it?"

"As good a plan as any," Natasha responded coolly, checking her holster and drawing a pistol. "But don't kill him until I've had a shot."

"Our orders are contain and capture, not eliminate," Rogers replied dismissively, and led them around the corner.

Loki was still droning on in their earpieces, and before they knew it, they had reached the square. It was packed full of people in fancy clothing, all kneeling fearfully on wet cobblestones, all their attention focused on the one man standing in their midst. Severus and Natasha stopped at the corner, while Rogers darted around the crowd and stopped at another dark corner. If he looked up, Severus knew he would spot the brilliant red and gold armor of Stark crouching on a building somewhere on the perimeter. Idiot. If Severus relied on a suit of armor to fly and fight, he would at least paint it a nondescript color. Like black.

Red was just so … ostentatious, not to mention terrible camouflage. That was one reason he never would have joined Gryffindor. Green was so much more dignified. Speaking of green, he suddenly focused his attention solely on the man, or being, currently expounding so grandly to the helpless muggles kneeling around him. His hair was long and black, and his face was narrow and handsome, graced with a satisfied smirk that would have made Lucius Malfoy jealous. He was dressed in clothing of a strange cut in emerald green and bright gold, he wore a golden helmet with horns, and carried a golden scepter or staff which glowed at the tip with eerie blue light.

There was no doubt in Severus' mind that he was looking upon Loki, Norse god of magic.

The sheer power rolling off the man in nauseating waves almost made Severus sick, they were so strong. Magic coiled and rolled around him like a cloud, and pulsed from his staff in bursts that began to throb painfully against Severus' brain. He suddenly knew, even with his wand, he would be about as powerful as a child against this giant, this god. He wondered how a soldier in form-fitting body armor and a man-child in a Gryffindor-colored metal suit could hope to subdue and capture this being. He panicked at the thought of being forced to reveal his magic, and it still wouldn't be enough.

"In the end," Loki was finishing grandly, a beatific smile on his face, "You will always kneel."

Severus squinted against the compulsive magic beating against his senses and resisted the urge to bend his knee and fall down in worship before this creature of power and wisdom. He knew it was Loki's magic, and he was likely so susceptible because of his history in bowing before powerful magicians. Natasha showed no sign of struggle beside him, and no one else was complaining. He resisted the pull and fought back, dragging up his strongest occlumency shields and reinforcing them against Loki's power. Suddenly, he winced in shock when his arm, the one marred by the Dark Mark, gave him a vicious throb. Loki's magic seemed to be awakening any remnants if dark magic he had in his body. Suddenly even more alarmed that before; he gripped his painfully throbbing forearm and bared his teeth at the creature in green. Loki was beaming upon his new slaves with a condescending smile of victory on his thin lips. His eyes were brilliant blue, like the tip of the staff he carried, and Severus almost felt compelled to Legilimize the beatifically smiling god and see what was behind those glowing blue orbs. But he pulled himself back viciously. Severus vowed he would die before kneeling to another Dark Lord, however divine.

He was distracted from his hate-filled glare by a strange sight. Near the back of the kneeling crowd, an old man was slowly getting to his feet. Severus found himself feeling inordinately proud of the elderly muggle. Surely it was no easy thing for him to shake off Loki's spell and rise under his own power.

"We will not kneel," the old man declared in accented English. "Not to men like you."

Loki smiled broadly and shook his head, as one would to a particularly amusing toddler who needed to be corrected. "Old fool; there are no men like me," the god of chaos arrogantly pronounced.

"There will always be men like you," the old man replied firmly, his stubborn body refusing to submit again.

Loki's smile turned brittle, and he raised his golden staff, which blazed suddenly far brighter than before. It was then that Severus noticed four other images of Loki hemming the crowd in, blocking them from the square's escape points. Their identical staffs began to glow as well, but they did not raise their staff to blast the standing old man the way the main one did. Severus knew in an instant that they were mere illusions. They likely had no power other than to disorient and distract, as he couldn't sense anything from them.

"I'm going in," Rogers' voice suddenly announced in Severus' ear, and he flinched at the reminder of the muggle tech that he was wearing. There was a dark blur, Loki's golden staff fired a blue spell at the old muggle, and suddenly, Rogers was there, crouched defensively between the old man and Loki. His shield had blocked the spell, ricocheting it up into the night. The tall Captain stood, calmly staring down Loki who looked surprised for a second before smirking in amusement.

"Earth has no quarrel with you!" Captain Rogers shouted as he stood, and Severus rolled his eyes. As if a 'god' would listen to such a Gryffindorish statement-of-the-obvious in the first place. Loki had invaded Earth, whether or not the humans had a quarrel with him anyway.

Loki shrugged, and his smile grew wider. "An ant has no quarrel with a boot," he replied dismissively, and raised his staff again.

"Come on!" Natasha suddenly hissed at him, jerking his arm as she hurried forward. Severus yanked his arm away from her, but as Loki's spells began to fly, Captain Rogers began performing acrobatics and playing boomerang with his shield, and a red and gold monstrosity flew down out of the sky to harass the green-clad magic user, Natasha and Severus began directing the scattering crowd. Most were only too glad to flee. A few threw themselves on the ground, weeping or pleading hysterically. Severus had no time to focus on the fight, though he did notice that Loki canceled his illusions and fought Rogers and Stark with his staff alone, his cool smirk never leaving his face. Severus snapped and barked at the muggles to flee for their miserable lives and lost track of Natasha. He helped up an old woman and half dragged her out of harm's way while she wailed about her missing shoe. He smacked his palm on her forehead and shoved a wandless confundus on her.

"You need to get home," he ordered her through gritted teeth. Her eyes went unfocused and she woodenly turned, mumbling that she needed to get home. Grimly satisfied that the compulsion and distraction would work on her, at least for about five minutes, he snagged a hysterical young lady and slapped her with a confundus as well, ordering her to go home. No other muggles were so distraught that his glares and orders had no effect. He finished emptying his half of the square and surrounding streets before he saw Natasha again, and he didn't doubt that she had finished roughly as quickly as he had.

Severus returned to the square, finding it practically empty now, and the fight was also pretty much over.

"Game over, reindeer games," Stark announced, his voice steely despite the mocking words. He was standing over Loki, who was on the ground with about ten different weapons from Stark's machine-suit aimed at him. Rogers had Loki's staff and was standing about ten feet away. Loki's mouth twitched into a ghost of a smile, and he nonchalantly raised both hands in surrender.

Natasha marched right up to him and shoved the mouth of her pistol against his chest. "Where's Barton?" she demanded, her voice trembling with fury. "What have you done with him?" Loki smirked slightly, but before anything ugly could happen, Captain Rogers interrupted, gently taking her arm and pulling her back.

"Hey, hey, hey; easy there," he said firmly. "We'll get answers out of him later. Right now, our job's just to get him back to SHIELD in one piece, alright?"

"I've got him covered, but who's gonna slap the cuffs on him?" Stark suddenly spoke up from behind his helmet, his voice just as mockingly sarcastic as before.

Natasha jerked away from Rogers and pulled the cuffs from her belt. But Captain Rogers apparently didn't like her attitude. He stopped her from approaching Loki again and took the cuffs from her. She shoved away from him and stormed off, talking rapidly into her communicator, ordering their pilot to come pick them up. Rogers did not approach Loki with the cuffs, since he was still holding the staff. It appeared that he wanted to order Severus to do something, but couldn't decide if it was more dangerous to hand a stranger the demi-god's weapon or order him to cuff Loki.

"One of you had better decide who's going to cuff me, or we'll be here all night," Loki suddenly commented in his smooth, cultured tones, smiling mockingly at Rogers and flicking his gaze dismissively over Severus, who was purposefully standing in the shadows just outside the circle of light the nearest lamppost gave off.

Captain Rogers gave Loki an impressive glower before he turned stiffly to Severus, holding out the cuffs. "Doc, would you mind …?"

Severus was moving before the blond man finished speaking. He strode forward, snatched the cuffs from the Captain, and spun on Loki, who was sitting on the steps of the large, elaborate fountain, smiling serenely. A prickle of danger raced over Severus' skin as he approached the god of magic, and he desperately fought his own magic, which was roaring up in sympathy with the power so very close to him. He couldn't afford to look any different than a muggle, but he feared Loki would feel it anyway.

He stepped up and grabbed Loki's arm, jerking him to his feet and pulling the god's hands quickly and roughly behind his back. He spun Loki around before their eyes could meet, having absolutely no doubt that the legends of Loki's mental prowess were under-stated rather than exaggerated. He would rather not reveal his skills as an occlumens right here, where Loki could possibly tear his mind apart and leave him a gibbering idiot. For that matter, why was he being so docile right now? It didn't seem right. Severus quickly secured the cuffs and silently gave Loki a little push forward as the loud hum of the quinjet approached.

"Let's go," Captain Rogers announced needlessly. He turned and led the way, still carrying the staff loosely in one hand. His shield was on his back again, and Severus briefly wondered how he was able to keep it there and yet deploy it with such speed when he needed it. Seeing that he was now unofficially Loki's guard, he tightened his grip on the arm he held, marveling that it was warm and felt just as real as any man's arm of flesh and bone would feel. But why had he thought a god would feel differently?

He propelled Loki along in Rogers' wake, again feeling dreadfully uneasy at how submissively Loki was going along. He held his dark head up proudly, his steps were firm and unafraid, and he didn't comment or flinch at how tightly Severus was holding him. If anything, he appeared to be amused.

Stark in his red armor brought up the rear, obviously watching for any funny business. Severus glanced around the calm, empty square and wondered where the muggle authorities were. Hadn't some people called the police? For that matter, where were the German Aurors? Surely they had sensed the terribly strong magical presence here. Severus felt it the moment he dropped down on the streets if Stuttgart, even if it hadn't become uncomfortable or particularly noticeable until he reached the square. So why had no one come?

It didn't matter in the end. They boarded the quinjet without meeting law enforcement from either world, and the door closed. With a lurch, the flying machine rose to the air and they began their flight back to the SHIELD vessel.

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Severus prided himself on being in control of himself at all times. Right now, he was not panicking, exactly, but he was close. Loki was planning something. How could they not see it in his smugly serene expression and relaxed demeanor? The god of mischief was getting his way, and if he had to reach his destination in handcuffs, he didn't care. Severus was fighting with the desire to break out his magic and do something to seal Loki before something nasty could happen, but he knew that any hint of special abilities of his would go straight to Fury and he didn't need the suspicious pirate hounding him right now. Besides, who was he to think his feeble power would be any match for Loki anyway? Regardless, he was mentally running through his catalogue of restraining spells when the quinjet shuddered. Severus looked up and noticed Loki was frowning slightly. The aircraft lurched again, and Severus observed his companions. Captain Rogers and Stark (helmetless again) were conferring in low tones near the pilot, and Natasha was sitting near them, not speaking, but obviously listening. Severus and Loki were sitting nearest the quinjet door, and Severus suddenly felt strangely vulnerable.

The aircraft shuddered again and seemed to swerve, and Rogers crouched down to ask the pilot what was going on.

"We've hit turbulence," the man explained, his voice sounding tight with strain. "Some freak storm that wasn't there before."

"Fools," Loki whispered, suddenly looking grim. "He is here already."

Severus turned to glare at him, forgetting about his silent promise not to look him in the eye, but it didn't matter. Loki's blue eyes were unfocused and his expression was slightly panicked.

"Who is here?" Severus demanded hoarsely. At his pronouncement, Stark, Rogers, and Romanoff all turned to him, just as there was a distinct thud on the outside of their aircraft.

A window suddenly exploded, like it had been hit from the outside. Rain and cold wind roared in, and a huge muscled arm snaked in through the window, grabbed Loki's shoulder and dragged him out, ripping him out of Severus' grip as easily as a grown man would snatch a toy from a baby. Severus cursed foully as he was left soaking wet from the rain, covered in broken glass, and furious. He'd failed to keep ahold of Loki. If he'd used a sticking charm, perhaps the strange being wouldn't have been able to take their prisoner …

His companions were already jumping into action, especially Stark, who went straight to the quinjet door and opened it, letting in even more rain and cold air.

"Wait!" Captain Rogers shouted. "We need to form a plan of attack, we can't just go in without any clue …"

"I have a plan," Stark interrupted snarkily, reaching up to trigger his helmet again. "Attack." With that, the red-armored man jumped out into the dark, and Severus caught sight of his rockets firing before a cloud took him from view.

"Follow his beacon, pilot!" Captain Rogers ordered, reaching up to grasp his shield. Its silver star glinted as he hefted it onto his arm. Loki's strange golden staff lay abandoned on the floor under Natasha's boot. "I'll go after him," the Captain said with pointed looks at both the red-head and Severus. "You two stay put unless I call for back-up."

"Leaving you and Stark alone to tangle with an unknown hostile, and possibly Loki too?" Natasha demanded incredulously.

"I do not think this new enemy is a friend of Loki," Severus interrupted, his first words besides the cursing since Loki had been taken. "Our arrogant friend seemed rather … unnerved. Even panicked."

"Well, I suppose the enemy of my enemy is my friend," Captain Rogers shrugged. "Still, I'd better stop 'Iron Man' from doing something stupid, like letting Loki get away."

The pilot swooped lower, battling the turbulence of the storm. Severus went as close to the front of the quinjet as he could, to get away from the rain and the icy wind. Natasha still sat where she had been since they left Stuttgart, the staff still trapped under her feet. Severus wished she would look somewhere else so he could risk a low level warming or drying charm. His coat was soaked through at the collar and open front, and his hands felt like ice cubes.

"There's a tracking beacon in the cuffs," Natasha suddenly announced. "I've connected the homing device to your grid. Do you see it yet?"

"I see it," the pilot replied grimly. "It's in a tricky place though. I might could hover and you could jump out, but it'll be rough."

"I need to get to Stark first," Captain Rogers hollered at them. "Where is he?"

"Looks like he's not far," the pilot shouted. "I'll go as low as I can and you can jump out, Captain. We'll pick up the prisoner."

"Sounds like a plan," the Captain nodded approvingly, gripping his shield and readying himself to jump. He turned to look pointedly at Severus. "Once you get him, don't lose him again."

Severus curled his lips contemptuously and didn't bother to answer, even as Captain Rogers smiled apologetically and launched himself out of the aircraft, pine trees whipping past. The jet banked and swerved up again, and Severus caught a dizzying view of pine forests and high rock spires. Were they over Germany's Black Forest?

The pilot battled the wind and rain to slow down over one of the rock spires. Severus tensed and Natasha rose, deftly kicking the staff into the air and thrusting it in his direction.

"Hold this," she ordered.

Severus took one look at the staff, pulsing with magical energy, caressing his senses, begging to be used … and knew better than to touch it. "I must retrieve Loki," he retorted flatly, and before she could stop him, he launched himself forward and leaped out into the wild storm. The wind wasn't quite strong enough here to blow him far off course, but he tapped his magic slightly to adjust his flight, and landed on the exposed rock without much of a jar. He almost smiled; it was exhilarating to fly again after so many years. The last time he flew, he'd been fleeing Minerva's wrath on that last day of the Dark Lord's reign.

It was a funny thing that everyone assumed that the Dark Lord had taught him unaided flight, when in reality Severus himself had passed on the skill to the Dark Lord. He never corrected anyone who said otherwise, having enough self-preservation to allow his Master to take the credit for such a remarkable skill … but truly, even Severus had not come up with it all on his own. He and Lily learned to do it when they were still young children. They were clumsy, mostly gliding like flying squirrels as they jumped off trees and piled rocks, and once out of a classroom window on Hogwarts' second floor, but in the ensuing years of Severus' life, he had dedicated large strips of time to learning the difficult skill. It was not a spell; it was more like a learned magical ability, like the Animagus transformation. Once learned, it was not unlearned. One could only get better at it. Severus glided out of the quinjet and landed on the rocky spire where Loki sat on a lump of rock, shoulders hunched against the driving rain and wind. Severus stumbled and nearly fell on all fours, but his landing was still much more graceful than his and Lily's first attempts had been. He marched up to Loki and glared down at him when he looked up. Loki was not dripping, even though he sat in the rain. He must be using magic to keep himself dry, and Severus felt inordinately jealous. Loki had no need to hide his magical ability, of course.

"Are you injured?" Severus demanded stiffly.

"No," Loki replied with a smirk. "Would you care if I were?"

"I was merely asking why you're still sitting there when I have clearly come to retrieve you," Severus retorted. "Get up."

Loki shrugged and obeyed, a bit unsteadily with the wind. His hands were still bound behind his back and his hair stirred in the wind, but he stayed as annoyingly dry and unperturbed as ever.

"How do you expect us to return to your friends in the sky?" Loki asked silkily. "I see no way, unless you can fly."

I can fly, just not with a passenger, Severus thought in irritation. An enormous bolt of lightning suddenly flashed out of the sky, striking down in the valley below them. It was so brilliant that Severus had to shield his eyes, and the boom of thunder afterwards nearly blew out his eardrums.

"What the bloody, sodding hell …?" Severus snarled, blinking away the bright spots from his vision, making out Loki's bored, smug expression, clearly not looking directly at him, but obviously amused nonetheless.

"Ah, my brother does have the most terrible temper," Loki commented casually, peering down into the valley where the enormous bolt of lightning had struck. "Even after all these years, he still can't control it. Or won't, shall I say."

Severus grabbed Loki by the arm as their quinjet suddenly came back around, hovering in a spot where they could hop onto the exposed ramp without much trouble.

"You have a brother?" Severus demanded. Could his day get any stranger?

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The aircraft touched down in a forest clearing just as the storm was finished. The sun came out through the shredded clouds and the rain abruptly stopped. Severus wondered whether the storm had been magical in nature, though he hadn't felt any surge of energy, other than what he usually felt from thunderstorms. He had always loved storms, but he'd never really noticed anything all that special about them. The energy released when they broke filled his blood with exhilaration, and very few other witches and wizards he had met experienced the same thing.

Loki was safely sitting between Severus and Natasha when Rogers and Stark returned, accompanied by a tall, broad stranger in strange clothes. He wore armor of some kind which left his well-muscled arms bare, a brilliant red cloak, and he carried a broad hammer in his large hand. His head was bare, save for the thick mane of bright yellow hair he had, matching the neat full beard on his face. His blue eyes blazed with power beyond that of mortals, and he stood fully a head taller than Stark in his armor, who was the tallest of their group when in his suit. Severus knew from experience that without his armor, Stark was shorter than both him and Captain Rogers.

"Hail, and well-met, warriors of SHIELD!" the stranger boomed, smiling good-naturedly at them all. "Captain Rogers has graciously asked me to accompany you to your base of operations!"

"Thor," Natasha greeted him flatly, not even batting an eyelid.

Severus glanced at her dubiously. Surely she was joking. But the man she'd addressed as 'Thor' simply grinned and bobbed his head of thick golden hair in a sort-of bow before taking a seat across from Severus. Loki sighed, a soft, bored sound, and pointedly looked anywhere but at the blond giant sitting across the quinjet from them.

Stark stomped in with his helmet off and hair disheveled – rather more than usual. His armor was scratched and dented and smudged with dirt and rain, and he was scowling thoughtfully. Captain Rogers, besides looking damp and windblown, seemed unscathed, and he slapped the button to close the aircraft's ramp.

"Alright, let's try this again," Rogers said wryly. "Pilot, take us back to base."

"Roger," the pilot cheekily retorted, obviously poking at the Captain's name. The quinjet rumbled and tilted as it took off, and soon they were back up in the air, heading back to the SHIELD vessel.

As they took off, Natasha was explaining to Stark and Rogers about how SHIELD had bumped into Thor somewhere in a place called New Mexico, and Thor was enthusiastically agreeing and asking if he could get coffee and pizza sometime soon. Captain Rogers was attempting to get a word in edgewise, and every so often, Stark interrupted, rudely talking over everyone else in order to make his attempts at cleverness known. It was like being stuck in the Gryffindor common room, Severus thought. Once things calmed down a bit and it was clear that Loki was as bored with the chatter as he was, Severus sighed silently and leaned his head back against his seat, realizing that he was exhausted. Just that morning … had it been only that morning? He had been in Calcutta tending victims of the flu. Today, he had traveled halfway across the world and halfway back again, verbally sparred with the Director of SHIELD and an ex-Russian spy, and met two Norse gods. How was it that he was only one who felt completely wrung out?

It was just all in a day's work for these 'Avengers' apparently.

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I really love Loki, and I just don't know why. I love Thor too, he's just so lovable.

I hope I did okay here with the Kneel-speech and the subsequent fight, most of which I totally do not remember, which is why I made Sev off doing his own thing and added Black Widow in there. As I've mentioned before, I am writing this story using my own faulty memory, so bits and pieces that I remember from the movie may not be very close to how they actually were. Next chapter, I'm definitely going to have to look some stuff up for the interaction between Stark and Banner, because A) that banter between the two of them is too funny to just wing it, and B) they babble about technical stuff that I have no clue about. "Finally, someone who speaks English", yeah right. I have it written, but there are parts I marked in red that I need to double check before I post.

Thank you all for your reviews, especially to the guests I can't respond to. ;)