The two Avengers and Loki swept the route to the town three abreast. Loki and Thor had to rely on their eyes—or in Loki's case, the keen eyes and sensitive ears of an owl. The Iron Man was somewhat better equipped, his suit capable of scanning a broad area with infrared. They had already made it to the town and back to the lodge, their search gradually expanding along a grid JARIVS had calculated. Half way back to the town and three miles from the road, and no sign of Book.
Stark—being Stark—kept up a near constant stream of inane chatter describing to them every not-Book heat signature he found. There was truly an impressive amount of squirrel, rabbit, raccoon, deer, and other such creatures for him to comment on. Loki felt that when he finally did rake his considerable talons across Stark's fine suit, he would be fully justified. He doubted his oath would impede him. Surely this ranked as self-defense.
"Hold up, boys." Stark's voice was muffled through the helmet. "I think we might have a winner. I've got a particularly Book-shaped red blob down there." A shift in his hands and he was rocketing toward the trees, Thor and Loki trailing behind.
"We do not wish to startle him," said Thor as they hit the ground.
Loki dropped lightly beside him, shedding feathers in his haste. "Neither of you know the meaning of stealth. He's already well aware." He pushed by Thor, stooping under a low-hanging limb. "Try not to rile him," he looked meaningfully at Stark, "if that is at all possible."
Stark made an offended little noise. "I'm the picture of diplomacy. All about the peace." Branches snapped over his armor as he pushed through the undergrowth. "Seriously—this little village in Serbia gave me an award. Has my face in bronze and everything. I like having it next to the coffeemaker, but Pepper keeps putting it away. She says it's tacky."
Thor dropped a hand on Stark's shoulder. "Perhaps it would be better to speak less."
"Too much?" Servos whirred as he turned his head to look at Thor.
Thor gestured at Loki's ridged back. "I think my brother is dreaming up ways to kill you," he rumbled.
A grin cut over his shoulder as Loki glanced back at them. "They're quite inventive—no more windows for you."
The oaks and maples abruptly gave way to a clearing of motley grasses and competing broadleaf weeds. The ragged stretch of space slanted toward a rocky creek along one side and curled uphill before disappearing back into a thicket of dogwood and stunted magnolia. At the highest point a spreading oak, boled with age, reared its head above the surrounding woods. At its base, Book waited, bulging street bag at his feet.
"There isn't a reason for you to be here," he said. His words were edged with politeness. He crossed his arms over his narrow chest and stared down the Avengers.
"Your welfare is reason enough," said Loki. He stopped well away from Book as he saw the boy stiffen.
"I think I'm probably losing a bet somehow by saying this, but Delusions of Grandeur there is telling the truth," said Iron Man, his voice losing the metallic hum as his faceplate slid back. "You're all juiced up with alien blood and we can't have you wandering around like Chernobyl waiting to happen."
Thor briefly looked puzzled by the reference but shook it off. "You were knit together by powerful magics—ones we little understand, and we need to be sure there are no ill effects. You must return with us."
A worn sneaker scuffed at the grass. "And I guess he's the one that will be giving you the all clear?" He pinned Loki with a glare. "Pass."
"This isn't really a situation where you get to choose," said Stark as he stepped forward.
Book stood his ground. "Last I checked, forcing someone to go somewhere they didn't want to go was called kidnapping. I'm not going anywhere with you—with him." The words were deliberate, forced between his teeth. The calm of his exterior suddenly seemed very brittle, cold fury running in deep furrows just beneath the surface.
"We only have your interests in mind," said Thor. He would have closed the distance between them, but he was brought up short by Loki's outstretched arm.
"Thor," he said quietly. "Keep back."
The measured calm in his voice sent a thrill of warning through Thor. He knew that tone. He jerked his gaze away from Book. Loki's face was tight beneath an outward show of complacence. An ill feeling crept through the air.
"You know we wouldn't do this if it weren't necessary, right kid?" asked Stark as he stepped forward. "Just need to give you a once over and you'll be free to go. I'll throw in a jet ride and a wad of cash if you want it."
Book didn't so much as glance at him. His hands balled into fists. "He's not touching me."
"If anyone else could do this, we would have them do so," said Thor calmly. "But Loki is the only one who understands…"
"What he did to me? I bet he is," Book spat. "He pegged me pretty early on—knew exactly how to play me. And that's all he wants now." He strode forward, jaw clenched as his eyes gleamed with dampness, "I'm done being used. He can find his redemption ticket somewhere else."
Loki held up his hands, "You must be calm. I only wish to help."
"Liar!" Book jabbed his finger at Loki, teeth bared as he nearly quivered with rage. "You deserve to burn, you psychopathic maniac."
He let the words hang on the air, his anger abruptly turning frigid. He stood painfully still. Against the backdrop of the forest he seemed very small, very young. Windblown leaves nudged against his feet before scuttling across the packed earth under the great tree.
When the words came, they were soft. They were even. And each word burned like arctic midnight. "I see it now. Put the pieces together. Why exactly you came here. Why you killed mothers and fathers, friends, children, people doing their duty. Why you created thousands of empty bedrooms and vacant seats at the table," he closed his eyes against the words, grimacing as he spat them out. "Hundreds of orphans." He crossed his arms and gripped his elbows until his skin blanched. "I understand now why the madman rained death down on an unprepared world."
His eyes snapped open, something wild stalking behind the rage in them. "Because daddy didn't love you enough. Because you didn't fit in and everyone liked big brother more than you." A mocking tone crept into his voice. "Now it's all so understandable. You're not evil…just misunderstood."
Thor shifted uneasily and stepped forward as if to speak.
"Shut up," snarled Book before Thor could even start. A hard smile cracked across his face, far too bitter and weary for so few years. The anger seemed to recede, dropping below the surface, but still running tight through every hard line of his body. He began to pace, placing each foot deliberately. He wasn't watching Loki, he was watching his feet in the dirt and the leaves. "Did they ever beat you?"
Loki blinked away the surprise at this abrupt change in tone and direction. He couldn't read where this was headed. The dangerous flares of magic within Book were too distracting. Power pulsed and strained. It was like peering down between hot cracks into the molten heart of the planet. Until now, the magic had remained passive, a salve or balm to Book's system, but not really a part of him. Now it threatened to explode through the crust and carve a path through every part of his body.
He twitched to do something, but without his own magic—his true magic—there wasn't a thing he could do. It would be like felling a tree to stop a lave flow. All he could do was wait. The question Book had asked wasn't really a question at all, so Loki stayed silent. Thankfully the others did too. It seemed even Stark had instinct enough to keep his mouth shut.
Book froze, still staring at the ground, half turned away from them. His words were measured and evenly brittle. "Did they lock you in a closet for hours because you spilled a glass of milk? Make you beg for money and then spend it on drugs? Forget about you and your baby sister for days at a time until it was just you because you were too young to really take care of a baby? Allow their boyfriend of the week to…to touch you? Did you stand alone in the ashes of your happy life, the only one to escape? Did you watch the man who came back from war and looked like dad, but wasn't, slowly decide that life was just too hard?"
When he looked up, his eyes were no less fierce, but they gleamed with tears he refused to let fall. He glared unblinkingly at Loki, jaw tight. "Your pain is nothing. Not to that. Not compared to what these kids I've known have suffered. And not a one of them took the lives of others as payment for their scars. And when they did self-destruct, they only hurt themselves."
"But you," he spat, "All those people. You murdered them—and you didn't even care." A low growl began his throat. "So don't you dare pretend that you could possibly care about me!"
Loki stiffened, "We need to leave." He grabbed Thor's arm. "Now."
Stark leaned forward, peering at Book. "Are his teeth getting pointier?"
From between Book's bared lips, fangs were now clearly evident.
Even as the group backed away, Book advanced, something just beneath his skin seemed to shift and slide. "You deserve every hell they can imagine." An eerie gleam lit his green eye.
"Brother?" asked Thor.
"Book, you need to stop. Be calm. Now!" pleaded Loki.
The gleam intensified. "Just. Stop. Talking!" he shouted. His clenched hands suddenly flew to his head as a gasp of pain forced its way between his lips. He went ridged, mouth stretched wide in a silent scream as his back arched.
"What did you do!" shouted Stark as he rounded on Loki.
Loki continued to watch in horror. "Something monstrous."
"Do something," said Thor.
He shook his head, "I can't."
Book gave a high wailing keen and pitched forward into the grass. The howl arched over the trees and pierced the heart of the forest—the only sound in the suddenly silent mountains. A shuddering spasm shot through him, his skin crawling as if something scuttled just beneath the surface. Then the change came. Violent surges twisted his body as his limbs contorted and lengthened, muscles bulging. Claws ripped through skin. He dug into the grass, clinging to it. Clothes shredded, spine arched, ears lengthened. Fur darkened pale flesh and his face narrowed into a long muzzle.
"This is incredibly not good," murmured Stark.
A massive wolf shook off the last tears of Book's clothes, one wicked green eye lit with an unnatural light. Long, tall ears swept back to lay flat against the broad skull as fangs flashed in the gapping mouth. A streak of black ran through the brownish fur, smudging down the long mane around the broad shoulders. A deep chest tapered to a narrow waist with a strong tail bristling behind.
The thing shook its great head and raised itself onto all fours. It could look down even on Thor.
In its gaze there was no sign of Book.
Slathered jaws hinged open in a hideous parody of a smile.
Loki got no more warning than that before the wolf sprung. Teeth ripped the air near his head as he rolled away. In a tearing of grass, the wolf swung round and threw himself at Loki again. Loki saw death in the wolf, his body shredded down to his Jotun core, blood splashed across that terrible muzzle.
A painful jolt against his side beat the teeth and claws. Disoriented, Loki finally managed to realize that he was partially slung over Stark's shoulder as Iron Man rocketed across the clearing. Repulsors whined as they skidded to a stop, throwing up a spray from the creek. Loki stumbled away from Stark, trying to unobtrusively cradle his bruised ribs. The wolf whirled on them, crouching to lunge.
A streak of red slammed into the creature's side as Thor joined the fight. Mjolnir hung at his waist as he grappled with the much larger wolf, their bodies writhing in a twisted jumble. Teeth snapped at air as Thor clung fiercely, his head pressed into the shaggy fur to avoid having his face ripped open.
"A plan would be good," said Stark. "I mean are we talking silver bullets and wolfsbane here?"
"And let's try some splashing him with holy water," said Loki with a tone of surprisingly calm indifference. "He's not a werewolf."
"Well, I don't think they make Have-a-Heart traps that big."
Fighting the urge to rub his temple, Loki dropped to the ground, fingertips splayed against the earth. He sent a pulse of magic racing through the natural currents of the earth and up through the wolf's pads. The questing magic ghosted through the creature, searching for anything but scalding rage and vicious intent. Only the barest echo of someone else drifted through the miasma of all-too-human hatred unshackled from human reason. The white-hot blood magic boiled up against Loki, turning his spell to ash.
"If I had my magic, and if we could contain him—I might be able to find him in there," said Loki.
Stark cocked his head to the side. "There were an awful lot of ifs in that plan of yours."
Thor roared as the wolf surged from the ground, twisting on its back legs as it snapped over its shoulder at the blond clinging to its neck. It plunged downward. Grass and dirt flew as it bucked and twisted itself in tight, violent circles. All the while Thor was trying to wrestle it to the ground, but could do little more than fight to keep his grip. Suddenly, the wolf threw itself down onto its side, crushing Thor beneath it. In a quick flip, the beast rolled over and lurched it its feet.
Thor's grip failed.
"Make a plan that doesn't suck," shouted Stark as he shot forward, slamming into the wolf's side.
The creature yelped as it flipped over, limbs splayed as it tried to right itself. A harsh, reverberating bark tore from between glistening teeth. The bristling fur along its spine stiffened. Red gums gleamed behind pulled back lips. The surge of wild magic lit its eyes.
Loki slid behind a tree, mind retreating into the labyrinth of his thoughts. Magic, I need magic. His arguments slammed into the solid wall that was his lack of power. He retreated, thoughts darting through the maze of possibilities, doubling back, retracing, slithering through hundreds of branching options. There is no magic. Dead end. He would die. Dead end. I would die. Dead end. Thor lacks the precision. Stark doesn't have the tools. Again and again the trail ground into the unyielding conclusion of failure. A glimmering of an idea caught his attention as he hurtled back along a well trod pattern. He pulled up. The possibility sparkled down a path of logic he knew narrowed into nothingness.
The flash intrigued him and he followed down the path, noting his own tracks of previous contemplation. The path narrowed away as it always did. What good would that do? I have no magic and no way of acquiring any! He made to leave, but the flash came again, reflecting from somewhere beyond the wall in front of him. Loki put his eye to the crack—because it was a crack—trying to peer beyond. There was a thought there if he could only get to it.
Digging his fingers into the fissure, Loki tore at the passage, widening the gap. The walls pressed back. Not to be turned away, he threw the weight of his mind against them, wedging his fingers in until they bled. With a crack, the walls leapt apart, dumping him before the gleaming spark of an idea. He reached out and took it in his slender fingers. Oh, this is just my kind of plan.
A small tree hurtled past Loki's head as he surfaced from his musings, bringing his full attention back to the fight before him. Thor and Iron Man's disadvantage was beginning to tell on them. In a completely equal fight, this more fearsome version of Book would still have been difficult. But as it was, the two Avengers fought with shackles round their actions. Repulsor blasts came almost hesitantly, and Thor was pulling his punches. They didn't want to hurt Book. The wolf had no such restraint.
Muscles bunched under its bristling fur as it coiled in on itself.
"Heads up!" Stark shouted just before the wolf let forth a roar.
The grating howl slammed into them with enough force to stagger Loki and knock Stark from the air. Bark tore from the trees nearest the monster in an explosion of wood shavings. Thor—not surprisingly—managed to stay mostly upright
"Stark!" Loki shouted as the wolf lunged. Both he and Thor were too far away.
A muffled curse broke off under the shearing of metal. Tony Stark's suit of "iron" tore away like tin as the wolf pinned him to the ground, claws gauging through sparking armor. White-hot energy burst from Stark's chest, scorching muzzle and whiskers but hitting nothing.
The wolf stumbled suddenly as Thor gripped it by the tail and yanked hard. It whirled, snapping at the Avenger. Stark's suit lay unmoving, oozing oily fluids, dark sludge crusting the joints. Suspiciously red rivulets cut through the grime.
Checking to see that Thor still had the wolf distracted, Loki darted across the clearing to Stark's side. Most of the faceplate was still intact, so Loki couldn't tell if he was conscious. The jagged shrapnel splintered in all directions, some of them down toward their fragile cargo.
"Are you dead, Stark?" Loki asked. He ducked instinctively at the whirring sound of Mjolnir flying over his head.
"Mr. Stark's life signs are stable," crackled J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice. It was slightly muffled, as if the intelligence were speaking from within the helmet and had cranked up the volume.
"I assume the lack of attempted wit means he's unconscious."
"Indeed." J.A.R.V.I.S. paused. "The sensors are too badly damaged, but I believe Mr. Stark to have suffered multiple lacerations. I cannot ascertain their severity."
The wolf didn't seem to be tiring, and they were no closer to a solution. Loki gritted his teeth and leaned down to hiss at Stark's prone form. "Try not to die, mortal. Don't make me tell Book that he murdered you."
"Loki!" Thor shouted as he sent Book crashing into the trees. Limbs snapped and old trees groaned. The Thunderer wiped dirt from his brow, hair matting against his head in sweaty tangles.
Loki almost wanted to smile. There was something so familiar about this. About the desperation and Thor finally realizing that his traditional methods weren't working this time. In those instances—few, but still more often than Thor would admit—it was always Loki he turned to.
"Call the storm!" He shouted as he sprinted toward his brother. The wolf was getting to its feet, shaking its heavy head.
"But…" Thor hesitated. He didn't know if Book could survive such an attack.
Loki didn't know either. He slid to a stop next to Thor. "Don't strike him. But as close as possible." The old teasing tone slipped into his voice. "Precision…if you can manage it."
Thunder clouds boiled up overhead, lightning skittering across their swirling surface. Mjolnir whirled in Thor's grip as the wolf scrambled back to its feet. Peals of thunder set its eyes rolling, tail rigid. Thor planted himself and thrust Mjolnir high above him with a roar that sounded above even the thunder. White-blue lightning crashed between the wolf's paws.
The searing light threw jagged black shadows into the woodland. For an instant the lightning seemed to freeze the scene. Thor's cape blew back behind him, a smear of red in a suddenly stark landscape. The torn metal of Iron Man's armor sliced through the light, catching it along every bladed edge of twisted metal. Loki crouched against the ground, ready to spring in any direction once the wolf moved.
The monster curled back in on itself, rearing on its haunches as the lightning pulsed before it. A shower of scorched earth and shards of stone bit into its face and legs. As the glow of the strike receded, the wolf vanished into the woods. Snapping limbs and terrified whining floated behind it.
A/N: Y'all are so lucky I wasn't feeling mean—I could have cut this chapter in several places that would have been truly terrible cliffhangers. But, being a benevolent writer, I chose not to 😉.
Action scenes are tough to do, but they're also really a lot of fun once you kind of find your rhythm.
Poor Book—I don't think this is what he meant when he said he hoped he'd get super powers.
Silver Frost: I thought so. It's nice when a character's own personality offers such story opportunities.
QuiltedRose49: I wouldn't say narrow, no—and in fact that would be an interesting storyline for Thor, to explore how even though he has changed he too has to deal with the consequences of his past actions. And I think if Loki hadn't one-upped Thor's starting a war with attempted genocide, I think there would be far more immediate repercussions for Thor to deal with.
I'm not sure Loki would agree with you about being willing to follow Skuld's course no matter the bitterness. We can only hope that it will indeed be worth it in the end, and the youngest of the Norns knows what she's doing.
Nuages sucre: Aww, thank you! I love Tony's character, but his dialogue is some of the hardest to get to sound…"right." Clint is the only one that is harder for me to write, mostly because if I'm not careful he starts sounding like Tony.
RedHood001: Yep, you were certainly heading in the right direction! Very true, it's possible that Skuld's gambit could backfire—let's hope she's planned this very, very carefully. We previously seen that a broken Loki is incredibly…destructive.
And thank you!