Kirsi: Chapter Three Afterwards

based on a challenge/prompt by Sheneya at "Avengers Fanfic Challenges and Recommended Reading"

Standard Fanfic Disclaimer that wouldn't last ten seconds in a court of law: Based on characters and situations created by somebody else (other than Kirsi Lokidottir, who's mine). All other characters {beyond minor NPCs} are from the Marvel Cinematic Universe and used without permission and without any hope or chance of financial profit. Just in case anybody has any doubts, I do not own the Avengers. (Wish I did.) To paraphrase Aggie2011, if I owned the Avengers, Joss Whedon and J. Michael Straczynski would be collaborating on the Hawkeye/Black Widow movie right now. Ten thousand thanks to Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, Joss Whedon, Tom Hiddleston, Jeremy Renner, Marvel Comics, Disney Studios, et al. This story is debuting as 'netfic and has not previously been printed in any fanzine or APA. Please don't sue. I'm too broke to pay attention, let alone legal fees.

Challenge: Loki had a daughter. He brought her with him during the Earth invasion, thinking he was going to win. He spent so much time on trying to take over, he usually dumped her on MindSlave!Hawkeye to look after. After his defeat, it's revealed that due to an ancient Asgard law, now that Loki's going to prison, Hawkeye is her legal guardian. How will he cope with going from a solitary person, to looking after the child of the man who used him so badly? Not to mention the well meaning, but not always usable, help of his fellow Avengers.

Exhausted, suffering from more pain than he had known existed, Loki slowly pulled himself up from the floor. His every muscle hurt. He thought he heard something behind him, but he was too tired and in too much agony to check it out. Not until he had managed to pull himself to a sitting position did he turn to see the Avengers standing behind him. They did not look pleased to see him.

"If it's all the same to you," Loki faked a non-chalance he did not feel, "I think I'll have that drink now."

"Say the word, and I'll put an arrow through his eye," Barton offered.

"Did he not have many questions to answer, I would be tempted to let you loose your arrow, archer," Thor replied. "Brother or not. Were I any angrier with you, brother, any more ashamed of you, my rage would render me speechless. You have betrayed Asgard and Midgard. You have allied yourself with a foul and fell race. You have killed innocents, and attempted to enslave a very world."

"Well, I -" Loki began.

The Hulk roared, and Loki flinched automatically.

"The green one has not given you leave to speak," Thor pointed out. "And not least among your many crimes is that you have stolen Kirsi Marendottir from her mother, and left Maren Vidardottir in tears. That was ill done of you, brother."

"I did not steal Kirsi," Loki retorted.

"Kirsi? She's safe, or was when I saw her last." Barton did not look away from his target as he spoke.

"You've seen the maid?" Thor asked.

Barton gave a very slight nod, still keeping his arrow pointed at Loki's face. "I was her guard, before he ordered me to Stuttgart."

A thought occurred to Loki, and it took all his self-control to keep from laughing at the irony. "Yes, Barton was Kirsi's guard ... and guardian. I entrusted her to him."

Thor's jaw dropped as he realized what that meant.

"What is it? What's up?" Stark asked.

"Who's Kirsi?" Rogers asked.

"Kirsi Marendottir. Her mother is one of the servants in Valhalla," Thor said.

"Kirsi Lokidottir," Loki corrected quietly. {*1} He kept his eyes on the Hulk.

Thor's face fell. "Your letter to Maren - you said you claimed a father's right to have Kirsi by your side." {*2}

"I did."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm missing something?" Stark asked.

"My brother lies. He is a liar," Thor said, not answering Stark's question.

"Lies about what?" Romanoff asked.

Thor tossed Mjolnir into his brother's lap. Loki gasped, knocked back by the force of the hammer. "Wait for us. I am weary and hungry." He turned toward Stark. "You spoke of food?"

"Yeah, let's go get some shawarma." Stark looked over at the Hulk. "Why don't you get unangry, and I'll find you something a little more ... inconspicuous to wear."

Shawarma turned out to be the mideastern equivalent of a Greek gyros, slow roasted meat wrapped in pita bread, although the toppings and accompaniments were different. They ate and drank, too tired to talk. Too tired even to think.

At least, Thor tried not to think about what Loki had hinted. The All-Father would never permit it, so the point was moot. At least, that was what the thunder-god told himself.

When the Avengers returned to Stark Tower, they found several SHIELD agents waiting for them, as well as Erik Selvig. Selvig was drunk.

"Thor, welcome back!" He stared at the dark-haired man trailing behind the other Avengers. "Bruce? Bruce, you're alive!" Selvig stumbled to his feet and rushed across the room to hug Banner.

"Erik, you're all right?" Banner asked. He stepped back from the embrace; Selvig smelled like he'd gone swimming in a distillery.

"Now that I am free of Loki's control, yes. I've been ... celebrating."

"And I still haven't gotten that drink yet," Loki muttered.

"That's all right. I had it for you," Selvig explained.

Rogers looked at the SHIELD agents. "Any of you guys have medical training?"

One nodded. "I'm an EMT."

Rogers had no idea what that meant - the 21st century was far too fond of acronyms, even worse than the War Department in his day - but at least a nod still meant yes. "First aid, then rest. Then we can go after Loki's base."

"Or if you guys want to go without us, be my guest." Stark wandered over to the wet bar, to see what, if anything, Selvig had left.

"Sir, wake up please."

Stark moaned slightly, then buried his face in the pillow.

"Mr. Stark," the voice of Jarvis, the AI who ran Stark Tower, requested, "please wake up, sir."

"Go away," Stark mumbled.

"Sir, Director Fury is downstairs and quite insistent on seeing you."

"Tell him to go to the lobby gift shop and buy a postcard."

The AI was silent for a minute. "Sir, Ms. Potts is also here."

"Pepper's back?" He sat up in bed.

"Yes, sir. She arrived two hours ago."

"Hell, why didn't you wake me up then?" Tony took a mental inventory of his body. All the parts were there, and seemed attached, but if there were any limbs, organs, or muscles that didn't hurt, he couldn't find them.

"She checked on you, and then requested you be allowed to rest."

"Jarvis, if she asked that I be allowed to rest, why are you disobeying her orders?" In a semi-Asimovian fashion, Jarvis was programmed to obey Pepper's orders unless they conflicted with orders Stark himself had given. Stark was a little fuzzy-brained between the fatigue and the painkillers, but he remembered that. He'd programmed that into Jarvis personally, years before he'd become Iron Man.

"Ms. Potts has consented to Director Fury's request to see you."

"Fine. Tell 'em I'll be down in five minutes - no, better make that ten minutes - as soon as I shower and get dressed. Ask Pepper if she wants to join me in the shower." Stark climbed out of bed and frowned. He was naked, and Pepper wasn't there to appreciate it. "Call down to the employee cafeteria. Tell 'em we'll need coffee and sandwiches. Assuming that everyone in the employee cafeteria didn't run out of the building screaming in terror. If so, send out for pizza. If not, they deserve raises."

"Yes, sir." Jarvis paused. "I have relayed your instructions for refreshments to the cafeteria, and authorized a three percent raise for those employees who did not desert their posts during the crisis. Ms. Potts declined your offer to join you in the shower, and Director Fury - "

"I'm not sharing a shower with Nick Fury," Stark interrupted.

"If I may relay communications, sir?" Jarvis asked.

"Stark! Get your ass down here," Fury's voice came out of nowhere.

"I'd rather get Pepper's ass up here," Stark retorted. "Sure you don't want to join me in the shower?"

"If I join you in the shower, you won't be down here in five minutes," Pepper pointed out.

"But saving water is green-conscious," Stark wheedled.

"The only green I'm interested in is Banner, and he's already down here. Hurry up," Fury ordered.

Stark sighed. "Soon as I can."

He showered as quickly as he could, dried off, and dressed. Six minutes later, he joined Fury and the other Avengers in the rather battered penthouse reception area. He looked out at the cityscape. Stars glowed above the skyscrapers. The lights were on in the nearby buildings - those that hadn't been demolished by the Chitauri. New York still had power. New York still had life.

"So glad you could join us," Fury remarked dryly. He wore his usual black pants, black shirt, and black leather jacket. Two men in dark suits stood behind him.

Stark wondered if he hadn't had time to change, or if like Olive Oyl in the old Popeye cartoons, he had a closet full of identical outfits. Then he glanced at the clock, and was shocked to realize only a few hours had passed since Loki had opened a portal and let aliens in to conquer the world. His world. Of course Fury hadn't changed clothes yet. It was still the same day. Stark tried to get his mind around that - that Coulson had died, that aliens had invaded, led by a psychopath who should have been nothing but a character in Bulfinch's Mythology, that someone had tried to bomb Manhattan as a pre-emptive measure - and it was all the same day. Stark tried and failed. It was too much to comprehend, even for his genius mind.

He took refuge, as he usually did, in flippancy. "Hey, I just saved the world. I think I'm entitled to a nap and a shower. Believe me, you wouldn't have wanted me to come down without the shower."

He glanced around the room. The rest of the Avengers were there, two men he assumed were SHIELD agents, and Pepper, and Loki. The Avengers, except for Thor, had all changed clothes. Banner was still wearing the clothes he'd borrowed from Stark earlier. Rogers wore a gray sweat suit with a SHIELD logo on the shirt. Romanoff and Barton wore blue jeans and white T-shirts, again with the SHIELD logo on the chest. Normally, Stark's attention would have been drawn to the way the SHIELD eagle was displayed on Romanoff's ample bosom, but not now. Pepper Potts sat across the room from him. When she was there, he could ignore Angelina Jolie in a bikini.

Pepper rose and crossed the room towards him. "Tony, are you all right?"

He seized her wrists and held her at arm's length, staring into her face. He peered into her pale blue eyes, perfectly willing to drown in them. Then he pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. He whispered into her ear, "I love you."

He released her and answered aloud, "Black and blue beneath the red and gold. Dead tired. Otherwise, jim dandy, thanks for asking. How are you?"

"You scared me out of my wits. Don't ever do anything that reckless again," Pepper ordered.

"As long as no one drops a bomb on my city, sure," he promised. Wrapping one arm around her shoulder, he led her back to the couch. A pointed glance at Rogers, and the WWII vet scooted over to make room. Stark jutted his chin toward Loki.

"What's he doing here? And what on Earth is he wearing?"

Loki sat on the floor. A thick metallic muff encased his hands. A cylindrical muzzle covered the whole of his mouth.

"Little something the R & D boys have been working on, to deal with metas who go rogue," Fury replied.

"Metas?" Rogers asked.

"Metahumans, mutants," Barton clarified.

"Who had all the rights and protection of the Fourteenth Amendment, last time I checked," Pepper interjected. One of the charities Stark Industries donated to was M.O.N.S.T.E.R - Mutants Only Need Sympathy, Tolerance, and Equal Rights. {*3}

Fury nodded. "They do. But some are honest and some are crooks, and the average jail can't always deal with them." He looked at Loki. "Don't know if it'll work on him or not, but we thought we'd give it a try."

Loki glared at the big Black man.

"If it doesn't work, Dr. Banner has promised to remind Loki of the consequences of misbehavior." Fury turned his attention back to the Avengers. "Sit-rep."

"What?" Stark asked.

"Situation report," Rogers and Barton said simultaneously.

"Bad guys came from outer space. We kicked their butts." Stark turned and glared at Loki. "Any further details I'd rather not discuss in front of him."

"Respectfully, sir, I must agree with Stark," Rogers said.

"I agree with your reasoning, but I don't trust him out of my sight," Fury explained. "Besides, I have quite a few questions for him."

"Let me take him to the next room," Banner offered. "You can fill me in later, and if he tries anything ..." Banner turned and looked Loki in the eye. "Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

Loki's face went pale.

"Ferrigno, Bixby," Fury told the agents standing behind him. "Please accompany Dr. Banner."

Thor went to his brother's side and helped him to his feet. "Come, brother." He lowered his voice, although everyone in the room still heard him. "Give them any trouble, and you will answer to me."

Thor, Banner, Ferrigno, and Bixby escorted Loki out of the room.

"Sit-rep," Fury repeated.

"Like Stark said," Rogers spoke up, "Bad guys came from outer space. We kicked their butts. And then someone tried to bomb us - tried to bomb the biggest city in the United States, full of innocent civilians, while we were still fighting them. If that's the way SHIELD does things, sir, then the Avengers and SHIELD won't be working together in the future."

"Not my doing, and I tried to stop it," Fury explained. "And I will do my damnedest to ensure that nothing that stupid ever happens again." Fury shook his head and looked up at Stark. "The World Security Council hasn't been the same since your father died. He never would have let those idiots do anything like that."

Stark sat very quietly, one arm around Pepper's shoulders. Fury had said before that his father had helped created SHIELD, but he'd never gone into any details.

"Stark used the bomb to destroy the Chitauri mothership. That killed all the Chitauri here on Earth. Dr. Selvig and Agent Romanoff closed the portal, so no more could come through. We captured Loki. After that," Rogers yawned, "we were exhausted, and took a much needed rest. An interrupted rest. Is there a reason we're having this debriefing now, instead of waiting for morning?"

Fury pretended not to notice the irritation in Captain America's voice. "We still need to find Loki's base. Barton and Selvig weren't the only ones he turned into zombies. We want to find and rescue the others."

"Some of them - a lot of them - worked for A.I.M.," Barton admitted.

"Those ones we'll rescue, deprogram, and arrest. Some of them are ours, and we don't leave our own behind." Fury looked up. The door opened.

Thor came back in. "My brother is settled, for now."

"Just telling the others that our next step is to rescue the other people Loki enslaved," Fury said.

"Preferably without giving them all concussions to free them." Barton rubbed his hred hair. His head was still sore from where Romanoff had hit him. Of course, every inch of his body hurt at the moment.

"You know an easier way to free them from his mind control?" Fury asked.

Thor shook his head. "I have never known him to do anything like this before; I have no idea how 'twould be undone. Tricks and illusions, those he has done before, but not this matter of stealing a warrior's mind and soul from him."

Barton jerked, looking up at the Norse god when he said that. It hadn't even occurred to him that Loki might have endangered his soul.

"It grieves me sore that he has done this to you - to your world. I would not have you judge all Asgard by his actions." Thor bowed his head, clearly ashamed of his brother.

"We don't," Rogers said quietly. "And even if anyone did, you've more than redeemed your people by what you did."

Thor sat a little straighter. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Mr. Stark?" a woman's voice called through the door.

"The refreshments you ordered, sir," Jarvis announced.

"Come in," Stark invited.

The door opened, and two women came in, one pushing, the other pulling a cart. On the cart were sandwiches, bags of potato chips, cups, and three pots of coffee.

"Thank you, thank you," Stark told them.

Pepper rose and helped them set the refreshments on the coffee table. She'd been Tony Stark's Personal Assistant for a decade; she'd only been CEO of Stark Industries a year. Old habits died hard.

"We've got some people in the next room. I need you to take them some of these sandwiches and a pot of coffee, please." Stark turned to Thor. "I suppose it would offend your brother horribly if Dr. Banner and the others ate in front of him?"

Thor grinned maliciously. " 'Twould gall him to the utmost."

"Good." Stark grinned back. He set three coffee cups back on the cart. "Food and drinks for three next door."

The cafeteria workers stared at the Avengers, especially Thor, still attired in his Asgardian garb, then hurried out of the room. "Let us know if there's anything else you need, Mr. Stark."

"Don't worry. I've never been slow about letting people know if I needed or wanted something."

Conversation died down for a few minutes as they sorted through the sandwiches, poured coffee, and began eating.

Fury hadn't had a chance to eat or rest, and he devoured half a ham and swiss on rye before continuing. "Next step, rescue the rest of Loki's zombies. Deprogram them. Interrogate Loki. And then, you said your people wanted jurisdiction over him?"

Thor nodded, his mouth too full of peanut butter and jelly to speak.

"Good. The further we get him from here, the better. I'm not sure we could hold him, and if he escaped -" Fury shook his head, frowning at the prospect. "And I would much rather the council did not get their hands on him."

"Or him on the council," Barton added. The World Security Council was bad enough in their bureaucratic stupidity. The World Security Council under Loki's control would be worse.

"If this council was willing to bomb New York City to save the rest of the world, could we even tell the difference if they came under Loki's control?" Stark asked.

"It might even be an improvement," Romanoff muttered into her coffee cup.

Fury discreetly chewed the other half of his sandwich and pretended not to hear her.

"You said you didn't know where his base was?" Romanoff asked Barton.

Barton finished crunching a potato chip before replying. "Need to know. I didn't need to know."

Rogers and Fury nodded. Both were former army officers; both understood 'need to know.'

"You weren't the one who flew the plane to the Heli-Carrier, then," Fury realized.

"No, sir. I was team leader, not pilot."

Romanoff reached over and squeezed his hand.

"We managed to take some of the assault team alive. Would you recognize the pilot?"

"Yes, sir. I remember everything I said and did under Loki's control. I just - couldn't disobey. Couldn't fight back."

Fury turned to Romanoff. "You said he and Selvig were cured through cognitive recalibration therapy?"

She nodded.

"Cognitive recalibration?" Pepper asked.

"Bonked on the head. Hard," Barton explained.

"Oh." Pepper returned her attention to her chicken salad sandwich.

"Where is Selvig?" Barton asked.

"Sleeping it off," Rogers told him. He sounded jealous.

"If the pilot is among the prisoners we took, he should be able to find Loki's base. He'd have to know where he started from to set a course." Fury reached for his cup of coffee. It was empty. He poured another. "Son, think if we talked to one of those prisoners, you could convince them you still worked for Loki?"

Barton thought a few seconds before answering. "Yeah, probably."

"So if we faked a breakout, could you pretend to rescue them, then get them to take you back to Loki's base?" Fury looked over the sandwiches, and picked a turkey on whole wheat for his second helping.

"Maybe." Barton gave it a moment's consideration. "Especially if I said I was going to fetch the princess."

"The princess?" Pepper repeated.

"Princess Kirsi, Loki's daughter. I was her bodyguard, when I wasn't liaising with A.I.M. to betray my country." Barton's voice was bitter, his tone self-deprecating. "My whole planet."

"Loki has a daughter?" Fury's right eyebrow rose.

"Princess Kirsi?" Thor's voice rose. He seemed offended by the girl's title.

Barton nodded. "Cute kid." He had no grudge against her.

Fury put his hand to his chin and rubbed his goatee. "Loki's daughter."

Romanoff looked up from her sandwich. "You'd use her as a hostage against him?"

"She's just a kid," Barton said.

"We wouldn't hurt a child ... but if he thinks we might, we might be able to use her against him," Fury pointed out.

"I don't like it," Rogers said. That wasn't the way good guys operated.

"You will not harm her? You will permit her to return to her mother afterwards?" Thor sought reassurance.

Fury nodded.

Footnotes

1 Technically, this should be Kirsi Lokadottir, as the I should become an A when switching to the genitive case. Then I thought about how many people would know what a genitive case was, how many would care, and how many would say "oops, you misspelled Loki." So if you know about genitive case, just pretend I'm semi-anglicizing it. If not, just ignore this footnote and enjoy the story.

2 According to Viking Answer Lady dot-com (a fascinating website), in Viking times an acknowledged bastard would receive 2/3 support from the father and 1/3 support from the mother; an unacknowledged bastard would be supported only by the mother and her family.

3 MONSTER was created by Peter Gillis in The New Defenders #147 from Marvel Comics.