Hi everyone!
Today, an extra long chapter. I was in vacations I had extra time so... Extra words...
This chapter is dedicated to Leonard Nimoy, who passed away on the 27th of February.
For all the Star Trek fans, there are quotes from Spock or related to Spock hidden in this chapter. Some of them are very famous, some others less, and some were slightly changed to fit in the story. Would you try and find them? Don't hesitate to tell me about it!
Now, enjoy this new chapter!
After the kind of fight they had had the previous days, the relationship between Torunn and her father had gotten in a worse twist. They wouldn't see each other without muttering curses and insults in their breaths. The bitter change affected the moods of all the agents crossing their fights, from Leo who felt so close to the young woman, to May, who understood the fight of Sif, to Skye, who had been looking up to Thor, in an admiring gaze, before knowing what a massive jerk he indeed was.
But this time, when she learned from her mother a truth she wasn't prepared to hear, her anger swell considerably. How could he had kept such an important fate from her, through all the fights where her name was spoken? She stormed out of the cell, hand on her hilt of her sword.
"Father!"
He turned to her. She was visibly too angry for words. Coulson who was talking with the Asgardian before his daughter interrupted swallowed. She looked dangerous. But her voice stayed calm, even cold, when she talked to him. Behind the words, they all could feel the repressed anger.
"It appears that you have been keeping important information from me."
"What are they, child?"
His 'child' was contemptuous. She took a deep breath. It wasn't anger anymore, it was pain, and a deep deep sadness. She couldn't believe it. She had taken a few seconds to realize that when Sif had let it slip. Then, the pain and the sadness had made her want to curl up in a ball and cry her heart out, then it had been the wrath, that had made her shake from head to toe in despite. How dared he not share this with her?
"The fate of my master and grandmother, Queen Frigga. Or I would say, her death by the hand of Malekith."
There was a silence. Thor looked at her, then turned his gaze to Sif, who had followed her daughter in the room. It was her fault, as it always was.
"I thought you knew."
"How could I? You know I was in your prisons when it happened! You, or at least your soldiers, put me in there, for nothing more than not executing the mad order of killing some villagers."
"You shouldn't have disobeyed your order!"
"Excuse me of having some sort of morality!"
He rolled his eyes. She was a soldier, she was supposed to follow orders. Even those who went against her so-called morality. She dared say that after all those she had killed along with Hella.
She was mad enough to confront him on that. That girl wasn't worth calling his daughter. She was nothing more than a rogue child.
"Father. Inform me. What happened?"
Her voice was lower, sadder. She just wanted to know. There was no vindictive state to her intentions now. She just wanted her father to tell her what had happened. The truth, for once.
"They slayed her while she protected my beloved Jane Foster and her King, Odin. The Dark Elves were invading the walls of Asgard, slaughtering and ravaging. Our soldiers were busy on the battlefield. And the sire of the Elves crept into the palace. They fought well. But she fell to his assault. We gave her the funeral she deserved."
So Jane Foster was partly responsible for her grandmother's death? She tried not to think of it, no the woman hadn't killed Frigga, it was all the fault of the Dark Elf Malekith. But the temptation to blame the mortal and, that way, her father was big.
"Only such minor disturbances are inevitable when Humans are involved."
She muttered. Her father heard it and shook his head, suddenly upset.
"You will not speak that way of the woman I gave my heart to!"
"This is a new thing of yours! All the sudden you defend a Midgardian! All the times I was with Leo and you stormed in, speaking hurtful words and glaring at him. You suggest I should not feel for a mortal, and yet you love one. And yet you defend her when I say nothing but something you would say."
"She helped me see my mistakes. Loving her was logical."
"Logic has nothing to do with love, father! Love is about feeling! And from what I see today, you seem not to love this mortal maiden!"
He didn't say anything. He just looked at her, eyes in fire, glaring daggers at her. She dared challenge him that way. She dared act as if she knew more about love than him. How could she? Was the feeling for this scientist more than just affection? Was it actually love she was developing towards him?
"What do you feel, child?"
"Now? I feel anger for the one who took Frigga's life - an anger I cannot control."
His eyes softened a little. She was not indifferent to that, or just blindly sad. She was also angry, revengeful. It could be dangerous but now, he didn't believe so. If she wanted to slay some dark elves, she could. She would. And the Asgardians would be grateful.
"I believe... that she would say, "Do not try to."
She didn't add anything. She just looked at him. He saw the emotion starting to go to her eyes, and she took a deep breath.
"Thank you."
He nodded and she went away. Coulson looked at the two parents, and decided that it wasn't the moment for any smart-ass comment. Indeed, he excused himself and walked away. The tension was blatant. Sif was shaking her head.
"It was unwise not to tell her."
"What is necessary is never unwise."
"How was hiding the truth from your daughter necessary? She is broken. She probably went to cry her heart out. She may be a warrior, but she's a woman, she feels. How did you take it when you heard about her death? How did that make you feel?"
"My personal feelings have nothing to do about it."
He didn't understand. Did he want to? She wanted to show him that their daughter was sad, angry and that he needed to take it easy with her until she had mourned the death of the woman that had taken the role of a parent, a teacher, a friend and a confident. But he didn't understand. He was so blind to her feelings… That was him. Blind and brutal. Even Jane Foster hadn't changed the way he acted around people.
"What are you going to do?"
"What shall I do? History cannot be changed. And her anger towards the assassins of Frigga is a good thing. She'll slay them, and we won't have to do it ourselves."
"You send our daughter to war against a powerful people who own an Infinity Stone!"
"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."
"You're a beast!"
And they started to fight again. It was always like that in their family. A neverending fight. And the truth about it was that they didn't actually despite it. It kept them from harboring too much feelings about the others. Sif kept herself blinded by her hatred towards him, to hide her true feelings. She still loved him for Odin's sake! But he didn't. So she kept it hidden, in her shallow heart.
Jemma Simmons was checking the state of her new subjects of researches when she heard soft footsteps. She sighed. Who came again to see Ward? How could such a traitor bring all these people here? She turned and stopped dead in her tracks. It was the Asgardian psycho. But something was odd about her. Her eyes were red and swollen, she was sniffing, she looked like a mess.
"What are you doing here?"
"I heard he was awake."
The scientist sighed. She was not going to let this crazy girl near her, and near her patient. Even though the perspective of her killing him to finish the work wasn't bad.
"I can't let you near him. You're dangerous. And if you are still obeying to your friend Hella, you could kill him. Not that I would mind. But the ethic forbid me to let you in."
"I do not follow her anymore. And I swear my intentions towards Grant are nothing but friendly."
Torunn looked at her with her red eyes. She was speaking quietly, tiredly, as if she couldn't get angry anymore, all her spirit spent on the war with her father. But more and more, in the past days, the way the young woman was behaving made her want to talk to her in a different manner, confront her with what she was doing to Leo and the others with her never-ending fits of snarls.
"You said that too many times and in too many ways for me to believe you."
"Come on, Jemma Simmons.I know, Humans make illogical decisions. But think."
That didn't seem to change the way the woman thought. She almost seemed even more contemptuous. She hated and judged at the same moment, without thinking it further. Sometimes, Torunn wondered if that hatred was caused by the way she was getting closer to Leo. She was in love with Tripp, deep in a relationship with him. Her behavior was illogical, impossible for Torunn to understand.
"She almost killed him, and Skye, and she killed another man back there. This is why I don't trust you. You're a savage. A killer, a beast!"
"You speak of savagery with so much contempt. Who are you to judge me that way? My savagery... Hella wanted to exploit my savagery. Intellect alone is useless in a fight. You, you can't even break a rule _ how can you be expected to break bone?"
The scientist looked at her with big eyes at the way she was talking. Her tone was dull, as if she was repeating something she had said a hundred times already, and maybe she had. But Jemma didn't believe any word coming from her lying mouth, she was friend with a traitor, she was a killer and she had tried to slay her own family. How could anyone trust her?
"Hella used me as a weapon. I helped her realize her vision of a ruthless army. She sent it directly against you, to kill those guarding this unsuspecting realm, leading to one inevitable outcome: the Asgardians would come searching for whoever was responsible, and you would have no chance of escaping what was to come. Hella would finally have the war she talked about, the war she always wanted."
Hella was to blame indeed, as Garrett had been to blame for Ward's acts. These psychos couldn't be responsible for their own acts, or couldn't respond of them when they saw justice. It was something she had seen already a few times. They were just all the same.
"Do you believe that Grant and I are evil?"
"I do."
Such a narrow mind. She sighed. These people were just a bunch of closed minds, Leo was the only one trying to understand her more. Even her parents didn't have that research of the truth. She stepped closer to Jemma Simmons, looking at her right in the eyes.
"Evil seeks to maintain power by suppressing the truth. Or by misleading the innocent. Did Ward ever wanted to do that, once he was in prison?"
"Not once he was in prison. But he did before!"
"What happened is gone in the past. I think you should try to look past that hatred of yours, Jemma Simmons."
"How can I? He tried to kill me. You, for all I know, is going to try to kill me."
No. No, it wasn't like that! Why didn't she understand? She was like that too. She was misunderstood at the beginning, a scientist, a nerd.
"Listen to me. Grant and I are nothing more than followers. Without followers, evil cannot spread. This is the truth. We were too blind to see what we were doing. But now, we do. People can change."
"People are born evil."
She was about to bite back, starting to get tired of this blind conversation. But she was cut by a noise, the noise of a body turning, a moan. It was painful, echo of what she felt at this moment, but it was not the same kind of pain. Hers was moral, but the moan she heard showed a pain much physical, the pain of a broken body. She turned towards the bed where, hooked to all these devices, Grant Ward was looking at her with sleepy eyes.
Torunn didn't look at Simmons again, but the woman didn't say anything and left them alone. Birds of a feather fly together. If the Asgardian killed him, they would have one less psycho to think about.
The young warrior sat on the floor next to the head of the bed. Her smile was wide, but her eyes were sad. He was worried instantly. What could change her mood so easily? She wasn't the one to cry or let go of anything in public.
"What happened?"
"I… It's nothing…"
"Torunn Thorsdottir, it's not nothing, I can see it on your face. Tell me."
She had a little sad smile. It was one of the first times somebody cared about what she felt.
"I heard my grandmother died."
"Sorry."
"It's ok. She has been for much time now. She died before what you see as the Battle of London, where my father and Asgard battled against Malekith and his Dark Elves. I knew there were many losses. Nobody told me about Frigga."
"You were on the battlefield?"
"No. I should have been. I was imprisoned."
"Oh."
She looked at him. He didn't care. Nobody cared anyway. She was sure it was just an act, a plain facade. She didn't deserve any friend. She wanted to. But she didn't. Nobody liked her or loved her. She was just a crazy psycho.
"Torunn, look at me."
She did so. His eyes were dark, chocolate brown. There was a nice vibe to him, vehiculated by the soft glow of his eyes and the light smile on his lips.
"I care about what you have to say. You are not alone anymore. Now, you have true friends. I have been and always shall be your friend."
"Thanks."
She meant it. But soon, her worries went to his physical pain, the one she had felt in his moan. He was looking bad, lying on his belly on the bed. Not moving. She stood up, chatting a little with him. She wanted to check his wound.
"How are you feeling?"
"I thought I was going to die."
"Not possible. I was never gonna let Hella have you."
The silence between them that settled was comfortable. It was the kind of silence nobody wanted to break. But they did when she saw the wound. The bandage was old and she had decided to change it. She had seen her share of sword wounds on the battlefield, and had seen worse than him. She could take care of it. She did.
He was not healing fast. The skin was still torn in a not-so-linear line from his right shoulder to just above his left hip. It had re-opened some old scars that made his back look like it had been cut by a butcher. It was ugly and red. She understood why he was in such a pain. She took care of the bandage. Her hands were cold and calloused. He could feel, and he had seen, that these hands were those of a warrior. They were so different than Skye's.
"Here you are."
She settled back next to him. He looked at her. She seemed less sad than before, calmer. She smiled at him and he smiled back, less widely, but a smile nonetheless.
"Did you see Skye?"
"Yes, I did. She's a nice girl. Troubled. But aren't we all?"
"She hates me."
"No, she doesn't."
"I saw the way she talked to me! She hates me! The only thing I can do is protect her but she doesn't let me."
"I guess you succeeded pretty well. That's why you're here, remember?"
He sighed. Yes, he knew all this. But she had wanted to kill him. And she was surely going to, by interrogating him when he was better. He was surprised they hadn't tried to get something from him yet. He was weak enough to give them something.
"Tor'..."
"My experience tells me something. In critical moments, men sometimes see exactly what they wish to see. But I have to admit, humans do have an amazing capacity for believing what they choose, and excluding that which is painful. Which leads to one solution."
"What?"
"She loves you, idiot."
"Impossible."
"If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
He looked at her as if she was crazy. What had she said again? He started to chuckle, then laughed a little. She still didn't understand why he was doing that. She asked him and he shook his head.
"You speak like Spock."
"Who?"
"Ask Fitz. That's his kind of things."
She raised an eyebrow.
"If you say so…"
"Don't worry, it's nothing... Just… Live long and prosper, Torunn Thorsdottir."
She smiled. It was a funny way to put it in words, but she liked it. She nodded.
"I shall, my friend. I shall."
They went chatting for some time of everything and nothing. It was nice, and easy between them. Simmons looked at them from far away and was revolted by that. These two were plotting something, she was convinced. And they couldn't know emotions such as joy and affection, and friendship. They didn't deserve it. They were just killers.
Hours after, in his bad-lit office, Coulson was trying to understand what had just happened. The information in the recording of the mission's coms was bearing a blatant truth, but, in his sleep-deprived state, he was still early in his comprehension of what it meant. There were sounds of pain, the cold voice of Hella Lokisdottir. Some things he didn't understand, in a language unknown to him. He would have to show it to one of the Asgardians.
He sighed. From the shelf next to the door, the Captain America memorabilia he had collected looked scary, eyes of plastic fixed on him. In the day, these looks were supporting, but in the night it was different. Everything was different. He had seen a troubled Carter, presenting her resignation, thinking Skye had disobeyed her, sad of the loss of Agent Blake. He had said no to this nonsense. They needed any agents they could have.
Hydra had fallen, for sure, but there were still sleeper cells all over the world and maybe in the heart of SHIELD. Since the undertaking and the betrayal of Ward, he had had even more troubles trusting people. But there was one person he wasn't sure why but trusted. She was a killer, but she hadn't tried to kill anyone in the team. She was a psycho but she seemed sane, grounded, balanced and incredibly smart for her age. At least for her physical age.
"Can I come in?"
This voice was not the one of the girl he was thinking about, Torunn Thorsdottir, but the voice of the woman he trusted with his life. Melinda May was his anchor in sanity and she only could smile with her eyes while stating harsh truths. She was standing at the threshold, a bottle of unrecognizable liquor in one hand. He smiled. He knew it was tequila, her favorite. And he sure needed a drink right now.
"Do you even need to ask?"
She sat in front of him. He turned to grab two glasses. When he looked back, she was eyeing the few files scattered on his desk. He sighed and put them away as much as he could. Soon, there was enough space and the alcohol was in the glasses. He gulped some and gasped.
"Strong one!"
"Courtesy of our Mexican friend, Agent Rodriguez."
"Remember the time we spent in Mexico?"
"I hadn't been that drunk in my whole life."
They laughed at the memory. It had been years since they hadn't been to the Library, the Mexican base. It was one of the best places to find communication agents, Agent Rodriguez's team specializing in undercover missions in foreign countries. And her stock of tequila was great too.
"So you heard it?"
"Yeah…"
She nodded, understanding the way he was feeling. She had had the same reaction upon hearing it. She drank a little.
"It's disturbing, right?"
"I have to admit that it is. I can't see why he did that."
"Love, Phil. Aren't we ready to do anything for the ones we love?"
"Right…"
He smiled at her with a tenderness in his eyes. Of course he knew that, they both did. Too many times they had risked their lives for one another. They finished their first drink and went for a second.
"Game?"
He asked, cards in his hands. She sighed. She didn't like to play because she always lost against him. But he liked it, it made him focus on other things. So, she played.
"Nothing too serious?"
"Just… Poker..."
"A very interesting game, this poker."
"Depends which version we play…"
They laughed and started to play. They were gone for a very colorful night. As always when they played his game. The game went on and quickly she started to loose, stripping off more and more while he stated way more clothed. They both appreciated the intimacy of the Director's office on these days…
"For God's sake, I just wanted to check on Ward!"
She had mistaken the cams feeds and had hacked into the wrong one. The one from the Director's office. She was seriously thinking to go have some brainwashing. Because you never want to see something like that. Not if the Director is the one you see as a father.
Thanks for reading!
Don't hesitate to favorite, follow and/or review the story!
I've started a new story called the German Bride, check if you'd like. Mainly Skeward centric.
Until next time,
The Queen of Heart