Asgard...AD 1170...
"My sons," Odin lectured, "you will not always face sentient foes. Ware the bilgesnipe, armored and horned. They run in sounders like the great boars, but dank and fouler in their habits..."
"Like unto the great dragons then, Father?" Tyre asked eagerly.
"Nay," Odin shook his head. "Bilgesnipe be mute beasts. Strike them betwixt the antlers, and they shall fall. Dragons be dank, but crafty. Ware them, and only fight in great need."
"I shan't fear them, Father!" Thor boasted. "If I see a dragon, I shall make it taste my steel!
"Before or after it roasts you alive, brother?" Loki shook his head. "Know you not, that the dragon's breath is fire?"
"So is Thor's, after a keg or two of strong drink," Baldr snorted.
Loki nodded thoughtfully. "Aye, that be so."
"Dragons be civilized creatures," Odin said sternly, "that we wish no war upon. If thou adventure against a great dragon, know that the bull-or vixen-is insane. Smite it not, no look it in the eye, nor approach its jaws, lest it consume thee in its madness. Rather, reach its ears, and call its right name. Such seidr shall call back its senses, and it shall humble itself before thee. Take then what gifts it shall give thee, and prosper..."
Loki checked himself. This was no real dragon, merely a manifestation of the woman's mind. Oddly, it seemed male, sprouting horns and a spiked dorsal ridge. Yet it lacked the colored beard-spikes of a bull, and the tail was serpentine, classic of a female...
He dismissed looking under its tail. He had a more important task at hand...
It cocked an eye at him and spat fire. *Thanos-Hand,* it snarled, *shalt lay no finger on me. Come and die!* Black wings churned the air, and black claws tore at the shattered ground. *Know terror, you who terrorize children!*
Loki sniffed as he dodged. Real or no, this 'dragon' could still harm. They were both mere thoughts. He vaporized his form, shifting into a songbird and trilling. Surely she would not think him thus a threat?
The dragon spat fire again, and snapped at him. A few feathers tore loose. Alright, then. The scent...
He zoomed by the dragon's ears. "Anne! Anne Sauer! Hear me! Awaken and come to your senses," he shouted. Physical or not, there were RULES for dealing with dragons! Call her right name...
"I rarely use my first name; it's a ship joke I would rather avoid, if you don't mind."
"Anne" was but a pet name of Barton's. Loki cursed himself for not pressing. He was weaponless. The truth would set her free, but he didn't know it...
The dragon roared again, and a hot wind knocked him aside. Teeth closed CLANG and venom flew...
Cortical steroids, epinephrine, adreno-corticotropic hormones...
Loki pulled up short of the mountainside. There would be no reasoning with this mechanism of Anne Sauer's. It was not she: it was her fear, and she was mad with it.
Loki shifted forms again, to a falcon this time. Bank and dive. He cast downward, calling up images...
"Annie! It's me!" 'Barton' shouted.
"Pistol! Stand down, dammit! Get a hold of yourself!" 'Coulson' bellowed.
"Young lady, this is not appropriate office garb. Change at once!" 'Pepper' insisted.
A crowd milled at the dragon's feet: friends, family, co-workers, people she knew... shouted, pleaded, waved, begged...
The dragon charged. Its eyes rolled over white in a blind rage...
*THANOS! TASTE DEATH, AND KNOW HER WHEN SHE COMES!* it shrieked.
Loki finally knew why Banner feared the Hulk. The beast within recognized neither kith nor kin. Were all humans so base?
Fire blazed, claws tore, illusions shredded and re-cast...the light around him grew red as the mortal's blood pressure soared...Loki knew he needed to find a key to the puzzle, or an exit, and swiftly. If she died while he was still tangled inside her mind...
Something zoooomed past him...tiny, like a gnat. He banked to avoid another flame-jet, and was buzzed momentarily. Had one of Sauer's 'guests' taken insect form to help? It spun about his head a third time, and he followed it: a tiny, glowing will-o-the-wisp.
"Lead me not unto death," he snapped.
It hummed, placating, apologetic, and zooooomed towards the debris field at Fear Dragon's tail: torn books, shards of glass, puzzle pieces, a toy snake, stuffed dogs, model horses, an unstrapped bridle, red concentric circles...a target.
Some things were known across the galaxy. Loki cast One. More. Illusion.
'Thanos' rose up before the dragon, bulbous and leering. "Come," he rasped, "let us play, Little Wyrm," he growled.
Sauer's heart skipped a beat. Fear Dragon stopped and coiled back, tensed, and struck.
And missed.
'Thanos' laughed darkly. 'He' had sidestepped easily. "Sloppy, Little Wyrm," he chided.
Loki's Insect companion hummed around his head again. Down, it zoomed, look down.
Shredded papers and a leathern cover...runic letters..."Silm" and "kien". Loki wanted to slap himself as a lack-wit. Where would Lady Sauer have seen a dragon, when none lived in the realm?
Falcon Loki stooped again, coming up with the bridle this time. He soared upwards, meeting the top of Fear Dragon's head as it drew back from another missed strike at 'Thanos'. He blew up to Roc size, and enlarged the bridle, as he approached the cavernous jaws and slammed the bit between its fangs.
Man-shape again, he grabbed leather and ran up the obsidian-scaled brow. Fear Dragon reared up, uncertain which enemy to strike: the one before it or the one climbing it...
"LADY SAUER! ENOUGH, I SAY! SHALT MASTER THY FEAR, OR I'LL MASTER IT FOR THEE!" Loki bellowed. He cinched the back-strap of the bridle in place, and PULLED back on the reins. "ANCALAGON," he roared, "ANCALAGON THE BLACK! YOU ANSWER NOW TO LOKI! UP! UP WITH THEE, NOW!"
The Dragon froze, its head drawn upwards; black lids drooped for a moment. It drew a shuddering breath, and launched itself skyward.
"STRIKE!" Loki bellowed. "STRIKE THINE ENEMY, AND MISS NOT!"
Orange eyes snapped open, and the black beast dropped. It seized 'Thanos' by the belly, and lifted him high in triumph, roaring.
Behind the dragon, the debris field lifted suddenly, snapping together to form an over-arching star-field. A pile of black rocks took man-form, and smashed magma-fists together, sending sparks flying.
"Let me hit him! Save some for me!"
The toy snake stretched, inflated to dragon size, and nodded approvingly.
"Welllll sssstruck, litttttle wyrm," a forked tongue clicked in pleasure. "Sssssave sssssome ffor mmeeeeeeeeeee."
Loki blinked. He had not cast either illusion.
One of the stuffed dogs shook itself, wild and furry, and grew the size of an elephant. No longer a dog: a great Wolf howled.
"Aaaaarrhhhhhhhhhhoooooooo! Ssgggaaaaavvve some gggfffforrrrrr mmmmmeeeeeee!"
Loki almost dropped the reins. He knew that Wolf; and he had not cast it, either...
A pair of gray toy horses...no, not a pair...one Horse with the wrong amount of legs...armored for war...nodded and walked up to where 'Ancalagon' still chewed on 'Thanos'. He snorted, whickered, and extended his nose in greeting.
"Hhsssave hhsome," he whickered. "Hhsave hhsome ffforrr hhmee.."
"Ancalagon," Loki said firmly, staring in wonder at the quartet of creatures that had appeared, "share thy kill. This glory is not for you, alone."
The great black dragon nodded, sleepily, and dropped the mangled illusion of 'Thanos'. The Rock Giant, Jorgumand, Fenris, and Slepnir all bowed for the 'feast', and disappeared.
"Rest, now. Thy work be done." Loki tugged on the reins, and the dragon staggered sideways...
And shrank.
Claws sheathed and withdrew; scales softened and became fur. Spikes on the neck became a mane; the muscular tail whipped about, flag-like.
Loki sat astride a black charger. He slapped its neck approvingly, even as the insect hummed about its ears.
"Ancalagon?"
The horse snorted and nodded.
"Take me to her."
Loki put his heels to the beast's flanks. Controlled, the human's animal impulses would be of great use.
But what an imagination! Loki would meditate on it later. That, the stone giant, and the appearance of his three sons, would have to wait.
"When I find you, young lady," he murmured, "we are going to talk."
It did not take long. Ancalagon-the-charger carried him up and over shattered hills, then down into a flooded, mountain-ringed valley. Thunderheads-emptied of their hormonal 'rains'-broke up over the peaks. A house stood in the center, torn shingles and shattered windows showed evidence of the weathered storm. Loki rode the 'horse' up to the door, dismounted, and pounded on the frame.
"Anne Sauer! Answer me!"
The door swung weakly open; unlatched. Loki glanced quickly around the storm-tossed rooms. Broken furniture and torn papers littered the place, and memory-ghosts roamed the house, muttering curses. Anne Sauer was nowhere to be seen.
"I have not time for this nonsense," he growled. Stomping back outside, he took 'Ancalagon' by the ear and pulled his massive head down. A soft nose touched his hand.
"Seek," he commanded it. "Seek and find your mistress."
The beast shrank again, until it was no longer a horse, but a black, shaggy dog. The glowing fire-bug reappeared, and attached itself to the dog's head.
It became, again, a male animal? Why not a bitch? Loki shook his head.
"Seek," Loki commanded again, pushing a little with his magic.
The black dog shook itself and set about sniffing the sodden grass. The fire-bug flashed once, and the dog ran towards the back of the house, where it began digging furiously at a sod-covered wooden door. Of course, Loki thought, a primitive storm shelter.
He banished the wet sod and yanked the door off its hinges. Turning to the 'dog', he grabbed it gently by the fur at its neck.
"Heal," he commanded it, pushing again with his magic.
The 'dog' sneezed once and disappeared.
Loki turned to the storm cellar door.
"Anne! Anne Sauer," he bellowed. "Answer me!"
"You don't have to shout," was the answer. "I'm not deaf."
Loki scowled, jumped through the door, and landed-splash-knee deep in flooded papers. A faintly glowing grayish humanoid stood waist deep in the mess. It desperately tried to sort the floating documents, but whenever it touched one paper became glass and cut glowing hands. Ghost-like shapes flitted about, whispering criticisms that burned the walls, glowing dull red before fading.
PLAIN SLOW CURSED BOYISH UNWANTED IMPRETTIERTHANYOU UGLY NOTGOODENOUGH REJECT DYKE LOSER BURDEN KILLER BADLUCK WORTHLESS MANNISH...
Loki recognized Thor and Fandral's scripts, and shook his head.
DIESCREAMINGSOICANDRINKYOU
Loki shuddered. It was Thanos' script.
"Anne Sauer?"
"Only Clint calls me Annie," the glowing person answered. "It isn't really my name. I don't mind, though. I've been called worse." She waved a hand at the burning imprecations.
"So I see." Loki frowned thoughtfully. He had been called names for centuries, but they never echoed like this. "You are needed up front."
"I can't leave," she answered dully. "I have to sort all this out first..."
"Do your memory files not sort themselves?
"They did until the flood came. Now they don't work at all, so I have to put it together..." another memory file sliced her hand, reducing her glow, "so the others can use it."
"Let me help," Loki offered her a hand that glowed electric blue, and she flinched.
"Who are you?" She asked suddenly, turning her featureless face towards him. "You aren't one of the refugees."
"I am not."
"Are you here to take me away? I'm not finished yet, and my people need this..." she began to plead, and motioned to the floating mess. "I just need a little more time..."
"I am not Death," he soothed. "Do you not know me?"
She shook her head.
"I have lost my touch! No other maid e're Loki of Asgard after I bruised her lips, yet you know me not after less than a day!"
"Prince Loki?"
"The same," he nodded.
"But you're different...you glow...and you're bigger...and you're not wearing your..." she glanced down at herself. "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH," she cried, dropping down into a crouch, glass documents slashing her on the way down.
"Miss Sauer?"
The humanoid flashed from gray to rose-colored. "Why is it that every time I turn around, you're naked and wet?"
"Your indignation is adorable." He chuckled. "Young lady, we speak soul to soul. Only bodies have gender and wear clothing. Souls need not these things." He glanced down at himself: a glowing ice-blue Jotun thing. "Find you my soul so monstrous?"
"No," she whispered. "You...you're beautiful, like a sapphire sculpture. And very male. But I am plain, and small, and... mud..."
"Diamonds begin as coal, and porcelain as clay," Loki shook his head. "The end does not resemble the beginning. Remember that."
She peered closer at him, stood up, and reached out a glowing hand. "There are lines on you...your body."
"Memories of wounds, nothing more. You bear a few marks yourself, little one. Some pains reach deeper than skin." He motioned to the glass documents floating about them.
"Wound memories...you mean scars. Souls can scar?" Curious, she reached out to trace the glowing blue lines on the glowing blue chest, and Loki gasped. She whipped her hand away again. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt..."
Glowing blue hands grasped the pink-gray ones.
"You gave me no hurt," he rasped, "'T'was intimate, and intense: nothing more. I will explain later, Lady Anne..."
"That is not my name."
"Then take one that suits you, Thanos-Bane. But we must away, and put you rightly in charge of your body, lest ye die."
"You're still holding my hand."
He kissed her glowing fingers. "Thy touch was stronger than you know, little one. I was loath to end it. What need you e're we away?"
"Order," she said simply, waving her reclaimed hand. "This needs to be in order."
He smiled ruefully. "You ask a lot from one titled the 'Master of Chaos'."
A gray hand waved in annoyance. "My bad. I thought someone who had studied hundreds of languages, war, and magic for centuries would know something about discipline and structure and putting things in their place, but if you can't..."
"Impudent little tart! Turn about."
"What? Why?"
"This is not my mess. I shall have to work through you to sort it. Now face it-aye, like that-and relax a bit..." Glowing blue hands grasped a glowing gray-rose head, and he pushed, just a little...
"Wow, that's different," she said in awe. The glow-fly reappeared, and settled on her head, but Sauer seemed not to notice it.
"You're welcome," Loki said dryly. "Now may we be off? Speaker wearies of controlling a body that is not hers."
"Speaker?"
"One of your refugees: a disembodied shape-shifter. She and the others direct your body in your convalescence. You need to relieve them all, with haste."
"Ok."
The journey back was much quicker than the trip in; it helped that Loki did not have to fight a metaphysical dragon on the way. Sauer pointed to the fractures prominent in her neural net, and Loki nodded.
"Will those heal?"
"Perhaps."
"Will I be...normal?"
"What mean you?"
"Like I was before?"
"Nay. Shalt either live or die. There is change in both." Her color flickered orange with anxiety. "Riddle me not about healing. It is not my best talent. Your guests, however, seem intent on tending you."
Soon enough Sauer stood in front of Speaker, and the two female spirits embraced: turquoise and gray.
"I'm sorry I couldn't do more," Sauer whispered to the odd copy of herself. "You can stay if you want. All of you," she turned to the glowing dragonfly shapes, "all of you may stay, if you want."
"For a little while, friend," said Eldest, extending glowing hands. "Sleep a bit, now. We will think-speak later."
Loki helped Sauer to her right frame of mind, and as the woman settled in her glow spread to the neural net about her. Systems lit up in tandem as she sighed with relief.
Loki turned to Eldest.
"I return to my body. Can you stay a while?"
"Aye."
"It is well." Loki glanced at the other glowing specters as they, too, settled in to rest. "Watch over the one called 'Speaker'; I trust her not. The child may need bolstered against her, benign though she now seems."
"She kept many secrets in life, and does so e'en now. 'Tis a strange practice to us." Glowing insect hands extended in farewell. "Peace to thee, O Prince."
"I know not Peace, Eldest, just the absence of war. But thank thee, for thy blessing." Loki extended his hands, touched Eldest once, and vanished.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"I need to pee," Sauer murmured.
Loki made a complicated waving motion. "No, you don't."
"That's handy."
"Magic has many..."
"Practical applications. I remember; you told me." She shifted from her back to her side, and found Loki staring oddly at her from the side of the bed. A bead of sweat glistened on his forehead, and his usually immaculate hair looked matted. Unthinking, she reached to wipe away the sweat bead, only to have Loki twitch away from her touch. "Sorry," she whispered. "I thought princes only rescued princesses."
"You're welcome," he murmured dryly.
"Why are you so nice to me? I thought you hated humans."
Loki grimaced. "I ne'er said that I hated humans; I sought to conquer your realm. One cannot rule what one hates." He frowned thoughtfully. "Mayhaps I exorcize the Jotun beast through good works," he offered.
She shook her head feebly, and touched his arm. "Warrior," she whispered, and touched his head again, "Sorcerer." She lightly touched his breastplate. "Prince," she finished. She pointed to herself. "Frog."
"Mayhaps I should buss thee again, and turn you into a princess."
"You tried that once; it didn't work. Ribbit."
"You humor me," he finally answered. "Sleep now. We shall speak later,"
"But what about..."
"Sofið," he said sternly, placing a finger on her forehead.
She slept.