Lokka Tattur
America never claimed to be great at planning. Her brand of super-heroism is more immediate. She's at her best when pointed toward an enemy that needs to be punched really hard. Until she joined the Young Avengers, she'd never felt the need to settle down in one location for very long, so she's unused to being responsible for the aftermath of a heroic rescue.
Wanda seems unused to being the target of a heroic rescue, so at least they're on even footing. America is not great with plans. Maybe it would have turned out better if she had gone along with Loki's plot to contain Wanda's burgeoning reality-warping powers before they broke her out. At least then Loki would still be here to help, instead of dumping Wanda on her and taking off for parts unknown.
No. America might trust Loki to watch her back, to construct plans that will reach their goals, and to leave the Demiurge relatively unscathed by zir plots, but America knows better than to trust Loki unquestioningly. She can trust zir to always do the smart thing, but not necessarily the right thing. She knows that grabbing Wanda early might not have been the best idea, but it felt like the right one. Since America left Utopia, she has sometimes doubted her senses, her memory, and her place in the world, but she has never doubted her sense of right and wrong.
The ground is trembling like the deck of a ship. Wanda shifts from foot to foot, trying to keep steady. She covers her ears with her hands, her movements jerky. "No!" she yells. The ground does not obey.
America has a much easier time keeping her footing. "You're not hurting me. This place is deserted, it's ok to destroy stuff here." She glances up at the branches of the dead oak tree.
One of the bird-constructs left with Loki, but the remaining CrowCam is perched steadily on a warped, naked branch. Its head pivots between America and Wanda, its lense-eyes shine even in the dim light. The boys had better not be filming this part. Wanda doesn't need more invasions of her privacy, even if the viewers happen to be in another dimension.
Wanda slides down into a sitting position, her back leaned up against the tree trunk. Every so often a branch creaks, or bits of bark fall off. All the grass in a ten foot radius is brown and shriveled.
"What do you want from me?" Wanda asks. She's staring at the ground, willing it to be still.
"I'm not sure we ever had a plan after breaking you out," America admits, "I don't care what Loki wants, I'm not going to let zir do anything to you that you don't want."
"What I want?" Wanda echoes softly.
"Yeah, where were you headed after you escaped?"
The whistle of the breeze, the soft clicking of the mechanical parts of the CrowCam, and the ambient buzz of wildlife fill the silence.
"You didn't think that far?" America asks in surprise. A wave of shame washes over her. That means no one thought this through. There is no plan.
"I just… wanted to get out."
"Do you have anywhere you can go? I can pretty much get you anywhere."
"There's… nowhere else. I've lived at that place since I was just a kid. My father left me there. I hoped- they said I might be able to go to Xavier's school, but I'm too dangerous."
Taking people out of their dimensions of origin is usually a terrible idea. It messes with the timeline, it's isolating and unfamiliar to the immigrant, and it tends to cause all manner of unnecessary complications. Despite the risks, America is seriously considering bringing Wanda back to Earth-616.
"I have a friend back home with powers like yours," America confides. She glances at the CrowCam. It cocks its head at her, but she's pretty sure that's just pre-programmed bird behavior, not any kind of communication from her teammates on the other end.
"No one has powers like mine," Wanda argues. "The Professor said he'd never seen anything like me."
"I'm from pretty far away. My friend does magic like you, and it doesn't always work like he wants it to."
"How does he control it?" Wanda asks cautiously. America glances hopefully at the CrowCam again, but it remains silent. There really is no one watching.
"He's got these mantras he uses, I think they came out of a self-help book or something." America wishes she paid more attention when Loki was giving Billy magic lessons. "He uses the words as a focus, and repeats them until it works." That's pretty much it, right?
Wanda looks incredulous. "Okay," she says insincerely.
Loki needs to get zir ass back here to help explain this, because America is floundering. "I mean, it might be more complicated than that, but that's the gist of it."
"So I just call out what I want to happen?"
"Pretty much."
Wanda looks around speculatively. Her eyes linger on the dead grass, on the brown leaves that litter the ground at her feet.
"I want the grass to grow back." She looks hopefully at the ground. Nothing happens. America shrugs and gestures for her to continue. "I want the grass to grow back." Nothing. "I want the grass to grow back!"
The soil shifts. There's a low rumble, like distant thunder.
"I want the grass to grow back!"
The ground trembles and shakes. America is thrown from her feet and lands on her hand and knees in the dirt.
"I want the grass to grow back!"
There's a cracking sound, like popcorn kernels being heated in a pot. Pinpricks of pain erupt along America's palms.
"I want the grass to- oh my god."
Sharp green blades of grass reach up out of the earth, crowding out their shriveled predecessors.
"You did it." America looks over at Wanda. Their eyes lock, and slowly both girls break into smiles.
"I did it!" Wanda shouts to the heavens. The CrowCam leaps into the air in surprise, but quickly settles back onto a branch further away.
Wanda giggles again, and the ground shakes once more. Behind them, the oak tree creaks ominously before falling to the ground in two pieces. Shit.
Wanda howls in frustration.
"No! If I can't keep control, I can't go to the school. I'll just hurt everyone. It's useless!"
America watches the CrowCam, circling them from far above. Unless Wanda can call lightning, it should be safe up there.
"We'll just… try something smaller."
The carnations are blooming nicely, America notes. They smell more than a bit like antibacterial soap, but maybe that's natural for carnations? America isn't exactly an expert on flower smells.
The CrowCam interrupts its orbit and dives, aiming directly for her. At the last moment it opens its black wings, catching the air and allowing it to land on America's shoulder instead of crashing into her head. It opens its beak, but instead of a screech or a caw, a human voice is emitted from the tiny magic-enhanced speaker inside the creature.
"America, Loki needs to be picked up," the bird speaks in David's voice.
"Great," America says without enthusiasm. She closes her eyes and feels for the magic tether that connects the two CrowCams, the flare that will guide her to Loki's location. Ten paces North, three West should do it. "You might want to stand back," she warns Wanda.
America leans back and kicks her worn red sneaker at a certain point in the air. Instead of swiping through empty space, her foot connects with the fabric of the universe, the space between spaces.
The boundary shatters like a mirror, revealing a five-pointed star leading to Loki.
The god zirself leans through, grinning zir usual grin.
"I like what you've done with the place," ze says, noting the patchy grass and the Oak tree that has somehow sprouted carnations.
"Just get your ass in here," America demands, pulling Loki through the portal by the lapels of zir coat.
Zir wrists are encased in something that can only be described as 'broken scifi handcuffs'. Loki explains that that description is basically correct.
"They're magic-dampening. They aren't good enough to totally block all magic, but they do a pretty good job of letting most of the power you pour into them leech out into the air instead of into spells." Ze's smiling as if ze is looking for praise.
"You got yourself arrested?"
"It was all part of the plan," Loki assures them.
"Does your plan include how to get them off?" America asks.
"Well. Not so much."
"Is that for me?" Wanda asks, gesturing to Loki's wrists.
"Hopefully," Loki agrees, "If someone could just get them off of me."
"Do you want them?" America asks Wanda. "We could just leave them on Loki." It's a joke, but it's also an offer. Wanda isn't a prisoner. She doesn't need to agree to this.
"My powers are too dangerous the way they are." Neither of them glance back at the burned black scar left on the oak tree. "If this could work, I want it."
With those words, a fizz and metallic click sound, and the cuffs' locking mechanism releases.
"Did you mean to do that?" America wonders.
"Kind of?"
Loki fiddles with the power dampeners until they disengage completely. Ze reaches toward Wanda, wordlessly asking for her hand. Wanda tentatively places her hand in Loki's. The Norse god smiles at her, and gently turns her hand over so that her forearm is facing up. With zir free hand, ze fits one cuff onto Wanda's arm. It clicks closed easily, and automatically rearranges its panels so that it fits Wanda's smaller arm.
"I can take you pretty much anywhere," America reminds her.
"Xavier's school."
"Are you sure-?"
"Yes."
"Well, that was exciting."
"Shut the hell up, Loki."
A/N: Not sure about America's characterization here. This is the first time I've written her. Usually she'd prefer to be more taciturn than she is in this chapter, but she's kind of off her game here: she's in an unfamiliar situation, she's feeling guilty, and she feels responsible for Wanda, which makes her much more willing to open up than she'd normally be.
Psychotropic drugs help a lot of people, but they are often inappropriately given to children to keep them quiet (example: in this fic, Wanda). Professor Xavier fills the role of "overworked slightly out-of-touch social worker" who wants the best for Wanda but doesn't have a whole lot of resources, besides bullying the staff a bit. Wanda is not terribly sympathetic to this, for good reason.
Lokka Tattur, or Loki's Tale is folktale from around the 13th century. From Wikipedia: "In the ballad, a farmer loses a bet with a giant, called Skrymir, who demands his son. The farmer asks first Odin, then Hœnir, and finally Loki for assistance."
This retelling takes the original story elements and remixes them with Marvel canon: Loki helps a child whom others have failed to save.
Feel free to write up a comment if you've gotten this far- otherwise I don't know what's working and what isn't in these fics.
What the hell was Loki up to during this chapter? You'll find out in the sequel: Loki and the Dwarves.