Brooke stormed into the main living area in Stark Tower, Captain America five steps behind her. With a huff, she placed her hands on her hips and glared at Tony. "Ten feet rescue jump? Bad idea." She threw an icy glance to Cap, then folded her arms and raised her eyebrows. "No deal. Go away."
"It's for your own safety," Tony explained. "We don't want Reindeer Games to jump you or something. Not that I don't think you could handle yourself, but you weigh... what? Ninety pounds? He'd win, hands down."
"Can't fight without hands, silly," Brooke explained.
Tony sighed. "It's... an expression. Big guy, talk some sense into her."
Thor stood up and placed his hands on Brooke's shoulders. "I no longer trust my brother to leave you unharmed. Until I am certain he will not come for you, I should appreciate it very much if you would allow us to accompany you everywhere. Please, tiny human."
Brooke rolled her eyes and stalked for the hallway. Cap started to follow, but she turned and pressed a palm into his chest. "Bathroom. Stay here."
She reentered the room ten minutes later, looking a lot cheerier. She opened her mouth to say something, and at that instant Loki appeared in a doorway behind her.
"Brooke!" Thor shouted, splitting eardrums in the process. He lunged for his brother as Brooke skittered away, only to fall flat on his face.
Tony summoned one of the gauntlets from his suit.
Loki appeared again, this time directly behind Brooke, and wrapped an arm around her neck. He held her tightly to him, mostly so The Avengers wouldn't try anything idiotic. Loki chuckled. "For all the hard work you put into it, your security measures are surprisingly lacking."
Brooke tried to elbow him, but he simply wrapped his other arm around her middle, trapping her arms. She whined.
Loki glanced down at her and smiled evilly. He knew his brother would catch on to it. "She is leaving with me, Thor."
An arrow shot for Loki's head, but he saw it coming and released her just long enough to snatch it from the air. Then he tossed it aside and held the girl fast.
Stark turned to the archer at the window. "That better not be another exploding one. I just got this place fixed."
"He wouldn't be so sloppy," Loki assured. "Your archer, this Barton, I know him well. He would not risk the girl's life. He cares for her, as all of you seem to." He lowered his mouth to be by Brooke's ear and whispered, "I shall have to discover why."
As all The Avengers surged forward to capture him, Loki transported away with the girl.
They landed in the old power-house on Heart Island, and Loki pushed her forward, away from him. He had other errands to run. He strode for the door, focusing intently on putting up shields to keep the girl in and others out.
She sat still for a moment, on her hands and knees with hair strewn over her face. Then she pushed herself up. "Bad Magic took Mindgames." She turned slowly, watching his retreating back. "Not smart." Brooke launched herself at him, landing on his back and wrapping her arms around his head and neck in a chokehold.
Loki instinctively brought his hands up to meet her arm, prying at an unbudging appendage. She held firm. So he wrapped a hand tightly around one wrist and pulled.
Brooke yelped and dragged the nails of one hand down his cheek. Thankfully, it barely scratched off the top layer of skin. He flipped her over his head and onto the hard tile floor.
The instant he released her wrist, she rolled to her stomach, shot up, and landed a kick to his gut. She really didn't play fair. The second time she kicked at him, he caught her ankle and flipped her again. Only, she landed on her feet, spun, and brought a fist across his face.
That was when he finished playing fair. He grabbed her wrist, caught the next foot that flew, and sent her flying back against a wall. She gasped, the air escaping her lungs, and wrapped an arm around her stomach.
"Learn better than to rage at me, mortal." He teleported out again the instant she rushed for him.
/
Paige smiled sadly after she watched Loki disappear. She sincerely hoped she hadn't made a grave mistake in asking him to retrieve one of the Avril Staffs. With a sigh, she decided she had to at least try to be cheerful, if only a little. She was in a beautiful castle, after all. The library of a beautiful castle.
She leaned forward in her chair and glanced slowly over the collection of books, reading each title, row by row. She stopped when she saw the title The Myths and Legend of Norway. She grinned and the book flew off the shelf, landing gracefully in her hands. She knew she'd find some sort of distorted legend to tease Loki with later.
Paige flipped the book open and began to skim through the stories. One title, however, caught her full attention. Not because of the importance of the title, but because of what if signified.
The Witch of the Iron Wood. She knew the story well and remembered the hundreds of times she'd read it before, but now it took on a whole new meaning. Paige gazed in horror as she read the story over and over again.
"Upon the easternmost shore of Midgard stood a dark wood. A wood made of iron. The trees in the land stood tall above all others, yet were hollow and dead inside. The Iron Wood was a land of turmoil and strife, and was far more evil than any region in Jotunheim. It was here Loki traveled in his hatred of the Aesir.
He chose for himself a wife, a horrible witch from amongst the humans, and remained in the Wood with her. She was by far the most foul of all the humans, with skin as pale as death, eyes like the iron around her, and hair like the fur of a rat.
Over time, the witch bore him three children, each far more evil than the last. The first, Fenrir, took on the form of a wolf, and prowled amongst the realms for those he could devour. The second, Jormungand, took the form of a serpent. He slithered through all of Midgard, bringing a slow and painful death to any who dared to challenge him. The third, a woman, took for herself the form of Death, striking terror into the heart's of any who gazed upon her. Her name was called Hela. Thus, these were the children borne of the witch to Loki. And these, on the great and dreadful day of Ragnarok, would be the mightiest warriors to fight against the Aesir."
Paige sat back in her chair, her eyes still wide in terror, and let the book sit open on her lap. Was she the witch the prophets of Norway had foreseen? Were those horrible monsters going to be her children? Her throat suddenly felt very dry as she realized her breathing had quickened.
She stood, letting the book rest open on the other chair, and made her way to the window. She opened the casement, trying to let in some fresh air. This place was the definition of perfect. So how could it become a nightmare? How could living with her prince be such a... nightmare? It was only a story. She kept having to remind herself that the prophecy was only a story.
As she stood at the window, she sensed a new energy, a new presence somewhere on the island. Oh, no... one of the heroes must have found her. And Loki wasn't around to stop them this time.
Who's there? She broadcast into the person's mind, Who are you?
/
Brooke paced through rooms and rooms and rooms. Too many rooms with too many old things. Couldn't get out. Doors wouldn't budge and nothing to dig with. Arrows and lines screamed red. Stuck. Completely stuck. All Mischief's fault. She shook her head. Kill the messenger to torture the brother. Typical.
Who's there?
Brooke screamed at words in her mind. Not good. Mindgames playing like Drums in her mind. Dancing through and twirling sticks.
She dropped to the floor and pulled at her hair, screaming aloud, "Out! Get out! No more drums. Out, Mindgames!"
Who are you?
"No more drums!" Brooke surveyed the room she sat in, wanting to get away. No more games in her mind. She crawled to the nearest wall. It would hurt, but the only way to get drums to leave. "Ow," she said in anticipation of what would follow.
Brooke banged her head against the tile wall.
/
Paige saw the girl's thoughts. Flashes of red and images of doctors. She shuddered as she remembered her own experience with scientists. Something about the way the girl spoke hit home for Paige. It was like the girl was speaking Sign. The grammar was nearly perfect. She decided she'd let her manners slip and speak naturally, letting her hands flow with her thoughts.
No. Don't scream. Not hurt you. Far away. Far, far away. In castle. Injured. Thor hit tree with lightning. Fell on me. Hurt leg. Broken. Not gonna hurt you. Far away... Brooke. Your name Brooke. Nice name. Pretty. Don't cry. Sorry hurting thoughts. Only way to speak. Words flee. No voice.
Paige closed her eyes and watched a vision of Brooke hitting her head against a wall in an effort to stop the broadcasting.
Please stop. Don't hurt head. I stop talking. You stop hurting head.
/
Brooke stopped hitting her head and laid it forward against the coldness of tile. It throbbed, but the voice was gone. Wall did its job. Good wall. She was coherent just long enough to sigh in relief, and then she slumped to the floor. Unconscious.
/
Paige frowned when she lost her connection to Brooke's mind. The poor child had beat herself unconscious. She turned away from the window and moved back toward her chair. She hadn't meant to scare the girl. More than anyone, she knew what it was like to have other people bumping around in her head. She hadn't meant to hurt Brooke like that.
With a sigh, Paige flopped back down into her plush lounge chair and stared into the fireplace. Just like the island, this paradise had its monsters. Only this time, she was the monster.