"Trust everybody, but cut the cards."

–Finley Peter Dunne

"Please," a ten-year-old Loki pleaded.

They had been through this discussion many times before, always with the same results, and yet he was persistent. Stubbornness, Freyja thought to herself, seems to run deep in Asgardians. She didn't know how to shake him off the subject.

She shook her head at him, "The process for such a thing is too dangerous. Awakening the dormant part of your mind to magic has always proven to be deadly. I'd have to make absolutely certain that your mind wouldn't snap with the stress before I try anything."

"Then make certain," he implored. "You don't understand, everyone around us has something they excel at. Most are skilled warriors, but I seem to lack the strength to be a soldier. I can barely hold a sword properly."

"Loki, it's madness. That is why it has only been done once before, and never again since Eirik."

"Please? At least find out if I'm strong enough."

She sighed, "Alright. But that is all."

"What must I do?"

"Brace yourself," she answered, placing one hand over his heart and the other on his forehead.

He gasped, in both surprise and pain. She knew it was not a pleasant experience, as it had been necessary for her to go through the same process when she had been younger. No one had been able to understand why she had been born without the ability to wield magic naturally, despite several Healers looking over her mind, but it was one of the deeper-kept secrets of her people. His skin started to glow dimly as the shade of his aura was revealed. A halo the color of forest green enveloped him, showing her what she already knew about his personality.

She let her hands drop to her sides as she found what she was looking for. He shuddered and began to sway as the nausea kicked in. She reached for his shoulders to steady him and watched with concern until he seemed well again.

"That was…fascinating," he breathed.

"You're ready, mentally."

Her words alone seemed to spark a fire in his green eyes.

"When can you perform the ritual? Now?"

"If I were to try now, it would kill you. Right now, you need rest."

"What about tomorrow?"

"Fine. Meet me in the Western Tower at dawn. If you're late, I won't help you."

"Thank you," he exclaimed, hugging her tightly. "You won't regret it!"

The memory swirled and faded as Freyja woke up, panic welling up in her chest as she realized she was unsure of her surroundings. She slowly began to remember that she was on Earth, not Asgard, and that she was in the home of a man she barely knew. Without looking out the window of her little bedroom, she knew it was just before dawn.

She quietly made her way out of the room and onto the metal walkway high above the streets. Meditation was something the Vanir had practiced since the dawning of time, though the practice had been more predominant after the war with Asgard, and she found it often kept her sane during her travels across the Realms. Though she limited herself to solely an hour at dawn and dusk, the practice seemed to offer her an attachment to all she had lost.

As she sat in silence, her mind wandered through trivial thoughts to more serious problems. Those mainly consisted of Loki and his more recent endeavors. She had known Loki since she was roughly six years old and the two had been close. Loki had become a companion she had known almost as well as she knew herself, but nothing of what Thor had said had sounded anything like the Loki she knew. Mischief was one thing, his specialty and amusement, but he was not the god of evil.

Trouble was something Loki was very good at making, usually bringing other people into it as well. He prided himself on his tricks, and, more often than not, she was his collaborator. Though she was more of a mediator who tagged along solely to make certain too much trouble was not caused, her efforts hadn't come to much fruition. She couldn't count the number of times Loki's antics had gotten them both a long scolding from Odin.

Odin was another one of her problems. She knew that Thor would, sooner or later, persuade her into returning to Asgard. On one hand, she didn't mind the idea of going back to the Realm Eternal. Asgard had always felt almost like home to her, despite her Vanaheim roots. But after her last falling out with Odin, even so much as thinking about him made her mind fill with an emotion she couldn't put a name to.

Another problem: the unfamiliar emotions that had plagued her of late. Ever since the loss of Vanaheim, she couldn't think about such problems without waves of nameless feelings clouding her mind. They were foreign to her and she could not find a way to counter them. Nothing, regardless of how or what she tried, seemed to work.

The more she thought on the subjects, the more another alien emotion overcame her. The sensation was more than slightly irritating as she couldn't even put a name to it. Perhaps it was impatience, although she wouldn't know if it was. She had never felt impatience. She had only seen how people reacted when they felt it.

Another unnamable emotion replaced the first. She could not describe the feeling, but she knew it had to do with being unable to understand the first. It was incredibly strong, like passion, which she was very familiar with. And yet it filled her with a sense of inability to do anything about the matters despite wanting to.

Unable to keep herself calm, Freyja decided on speaking with Thor. The easiest way to do this was through mental projection, which had always been one of Loki's favorite tricks, as she didn't know where exactly in the building he was. It involved separating the mind from the body and forming a projection elsewhere. She had taught many people this technique, as it was very convenient for long-distance communication.

Taking a deep breath, she projected her consciousness out into the tower. The amount of people in the city surprised Freyja, as her previous visits had been to much smaller towns, but did not confuse her. She needed only brush against the psyche of the person to determine that it was not who she was looking for. Each mind had a different tone, as each personality is different, and Freyja was very skilled at picking through which mind was which.

She found Thor after a good ten minutes of searching through what seemed as a labyrinth of psyches. Unsurprisingly, she came across him sleeping in a large bed just a couple of floors below where she was staying, his arms wrapped around Jane Foster as they both slept. The sight sent a pang of longing through her, as the sight reminded her all too much of herself and her lover. She quickly pushed the thoughts away. There was, after all, no need to dwell on what she could no longer have.

Concentrating carefully, she formed an opaque copy of her Asgardian form in the room. Breathing a sigh as she finished, Freyja walked around a little, taking a little time to examine their surroundings. The room was completely different than the one Tony had given her. The walls were a pale gold that almost seemed to shimmer like real gold and the floor seemed to match. There was, what seemed to her, a glass wall with a projection of constellations not of Earth on the far edge of the room. It was then that she realized that the room's décor was all in an attempt to mimic Asgard.

She turned her attention away from the room itself and towards her friend. Thor had changed extensively, physically and mentally, since she had last seen him. His golden hair was slightly longer than she remembered, worry lines were etched into his forehead, and he had grown a tad bit taller. But the most shocking change was in his personality. All her life, Thor had been a little on the arrogant, stubborn, and vain side. Those parts of him seemed to be gone, or at least minimized by the humility and thoughtfulness he now seemed to possess. She wondered what else had changed.

She delved into his mind, just to satiate her curiousity despite her guilt at the action, feeling the familiar warmth his mind carried. She wandered idly for a while, shifting through the contours of his mentality but never going any further than the surface. No matter how many Asgardians she taught, she would never get over the curiosity of their minds. Loki had once told her that the minds of Vanir were confusing and always moving, like smoke in the wind. If that was true, then Asgardian minds were similar to the insides of beehives, everything was organized and separated into little compartments. Perhaps it was this, Freyja thought, which made them so connected to the corporeal world.

"Thor," she called.

She pulled back from his mind just enough to keep him from thinking that she was being intrusive. Something stirred in his consciousness, that much she could still tell, but he remained asleep.

"Thor."

She patiently nudged away the memories and dreams that tried desperately to invade her own mind, a common occurrence of those just waking up, as she left his consciousness and called once more.

"Thor!"

This time he awoke, flustered by her voice. He pulled back from Jane immediately, very nearly falling off the bed in his haste, and stumbled into a battle-ready stance. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was just her.

"Freyja? Is something wrong? Do you need my aid?" he asked, the fog of sleep still confusing him.

"Calm yourself, I am not in need of your aid. I simply wish to speak with you."

"Now?" he asked, sparing a glance towards Jane.

A look of apology crossed her face suddenly, and she took a step back, "If I am interrupting your morning…ritual, I can come back at a later time."

Thor's aura reverberated with embarrassment, "No, you are not interrupting – it's not like that yet."

"You're taking it slow," Freyja asked, trying not to sound incredulous as she watched him nod. "By Sophossentia, you have grown up."

He grinned, "It has been a few millennia. It was bound to happen, despite what some might think. However, I would prefer it if I could meet you at a later time – in a few hours, perhaps. Waking early will lead me to my death."

She laughed, "It never killed your brother."

Thor grumbled something unintelligible as he laid back down, knowing she was in agreement with him. She left him to his rest and returned to her own body. It was then that she got an idea, as dangerous as it was, but she couldn't help her own curiosity. Concentrating again, she projected her mind through space until she found Asgard.

She knew the city too well, knew who she was looking for, and what his psyche felt like. The only question was where would they keep a prince prisoner? She checked his room first only to find it empty. Certainly he was in the castle, away from those who would wish for him to pay for his crimes with his life. She couldn't imagine Frigga would allow him to be held anywhere else.

She searched through every room with her mind, except the royal chambers as she didn't want to run across Odin. As usual, most of the rooms in the palace where empty, patrolled only by a few Einherjar who were oblivious to her mental presence. Few things had changed in her absence. But she found that her chambers had been left untouched in her absence, much to her surprise.

Unable to find who she was looking for, she searched the mind of the nearest guard. Like most Asgardians, he was unaware of her presence, and she had no problem filtering through his memories in search of a hint as to her search.

Before the Aesir-Vanir War, none of the Asgardians had been able to sense the presence of another in their head, making them easy prey to psychological attacks. It had been possible to bend and manipulate the mind in any way pleased in those times. It terrified the Asgardians that their neighbors could enter their minds, control them, and even rend them apart afterward. That fear had served to start the war.

Since the treaty, and the extraction of corruptive emotions, the Vanir very rarely entered the mind of another. It was mostly only practiced during magic to teach self-protection, any other usage was considered rude. She decided that such a small indiscretion was necessary and forgivable in that instant.

Freyja justified her guilt with the fact that she wasn't hurting the guard, simply searching for information. She didn't find anything that directly had anything to do with who she was searching for, but was pointed in the direction of another Eiherjar who might.

Unfortunately for her, this one had been trained extensively. As soon as she came in contact with his consciousness, panic swirled in his mind like a storm riling up a usually calm sea. Then came the pain as he tried desperately to force her out. Knowing she couldn't just let him kick her out and tell anyone about the occurrence, she fought back, pushing his weaker mind back. Using all of her strength, she overpowered his defenses and took control.

His struggles still came, but more feebly in the small recess she had pushed him into. She carefully made him fall asleep against the wall to prevent any further trouble before beginning to rifle through his recollections. She found the memory of him sensing her presence, forcing away the wave of emotions that came with it, and destroyed all traces of its existence. It was a painless procedure, similar to pulling an extra, useless string that wasn't truly woven into the pattern out of a tapestry. She then searched through the rest for something useful and found it.

Surprise rippled through her as she found where they were keeping him. Odin must have had the last say, she thought to herself, for him to end up surrounded by Asgard's more powerful prisoners. She immediately left the guard's mind and descended into the dungeons that were deep in the ground beneath the castle. It was there she found the two adjoining cells which had been combined to make his own personal room.

Loki was asleep in his cell, dreaming peacefully on a sparsely cushioned cot. A metal gag was locked around his mouth and his hands were loosely chained to allow just enough movement to read a book or eat. But these would not stop a sorcerer, she knew. Something else was there to insure he would not use magic – there had to be. She scanned for any dangers.

She recoiled when she came across the magic-dampening runes carved into the walls and the pure energy field closing the spaces between the stone columns. The concentration of auric energy paired with the runes made her feel a wave of nausea every time she approached them. The thought horrified her, as she knew that all of the defenses would collapse if a particularly strong blow, paired with the ancient dark magics, were to fall upon any of the fields. She was going to have to tell Thor about the problem and suggest he fix it. The Asgardians were simply waiting for a knowledgeable sorcerer to be placed within. She silently cursed their ignorance, wondering how Frigga could allow them to do something so dangerous.

With only a second's hesitation, she skirted the edges of his mind, afraid of waking him. He would certainly recognize her presence. Once, when times were simpler, she tried to surprise him by entering his mind while he slept. He had immediately woken up, but did not realize that it was her, and mistook her for a threat. The result had been a very painful mental struggle that went on for hours as he refused to relinquish his hold on her mind until he realized it was her. After the incident, he had made certain that he was completely familiar with her psyche.

His mind was relatively calm, dwelling in dreams that surprised her. In his mind, he was in the middle of one of Odin's feasts. Everyone was there: Sif, Volstagg, Fandral, Hogun, Freyr, herself, Thor, and many of their old friends. He was speaking to her, making her laugh. She couldn't make out what they were saying, and it was likely that they weren't speaking at all, but her heart yearned for the times when such a scene was a possibility.

The thought of waking him, of speaking to him, crossed her mind but she couldn't muster the courage. She had run away and led him to believe she was dead, betraying him in a sense. Instead she just examined him and took in the details that had changed as she had earlier with Thor.

His ebony hair was longer than usual, and uncharacteristically unruly. He was taller than she remembered, his face slightly longer. But his chiseled features, his narrow-like-razorblades cheekbones, thin eyebrows, and soft lips – an odd distinction from his otherwise angular and pronounced features – were the same. There was, however, a scar across the edge of one of his eyebrows and another down the side of his face just by his ear that were new. His slender fingers were lying flat against the satin cushions that lined the gilded cot, barely twitching in his sleep.

She retracted her presence, unable to bring herself to force him awake, until she was back in the Avengers Tower. She fiddled instinctively with her emerald ring, as she did when she worried about anything. Finally admitting that she didn't have the courage to go back and actually let Loki know that she was alive, Freyja got to her feet, entering the penthouse in the hopes of finding breakfast.

Bruce was asleep on the couch, catching her by surprise. Did he not have a home? She wondered if it was customary on Earth to have the guest sleep on a couch. The gesture seemed strange, in her eyes, as she was used to the practice of catering to visitors. Then again, it wasn't her home.

She walked quietly towards the bar, where her possessions still lay, in hope that Tony had something to eat. As she reached for the handle of the fridge, she was startled by a voice.

"Can I help you with anything, Miss Freyja?"

She jumped in surprise, looking around the room for who was speaking to her. Unable to see anyone, she mentally searched the rooms around her, only to find no one else besides Tony and Bruce on the entire floor. A look of confusion crossed her face as she reached for the handle again.

"There is nothing in the fridge except tequila and a carton of expired milk," the voice said again.

"Who's there?" she asked uncertainly.

"Jarvis, ma'am."

She looked around again, "Where are you?"

She heard Tony laughing from behind her, "I see you've met Jarvis."

"To be honest, I have not met him yet," she admitted.

"You won't find him," he said, walking towards her. "Jarvis is a computer program I created to help me with anything I need."

"A what?" she asked.

"A computer program."

"I do not know what a 'computer' is, much less a 'program' for one."

"You were very interested in mine yesterday."

"Ah, the mechanical screens which provide information. Your Midgardian equivalent to this," she said, picking up the slab of diamond from the bar and tapping it twice.

The surface of the diamond lit up like the screen of a TV. Freyja tapped a few keys on the screen, causing the image of several runes to project itself into the air just above it. Tony seemed to perk up at the sight, his eyes taking in the object hungrily, and he took a few steps towards her.

"Can I see that for a second?"

"Of course," she answered, handing him the tablet.

He examined it, peering at every angle to try and find something new. When he was certain there was nothing visibly different about it, as he couldn't find any outward evidence of how it worked, he handed it back to her.

"Does it come in English?"

She laughed, "I'm afraid not. However, you can read it with a bit of help."

He watched as she slid her fingers across the surface of the bar, brushing them against his own fingertips. A gasp escaped him as an electric shock seemed to jolt through him. His vision swam for a few seconds, as though he was looking at the world through a glass of water, before it cleared and he could suddenly see the letters as though they were in English.

"There you are," she said happily, handing the tablet to him again.

He searched through it again and whistled in appreciation, "Do you have any more of these? If I could take one apart and manufacture them, I could rub it in Mac's face. That would teach them to challenge me to build something better than they did."

She shook her head, "I don't think there are any left besides my own, and I am reluctant to part with it. I'm afraid you will have to create something different to spite your friend."

"Not a friend, a company," he corrected, searching through more and more. "What is this?"

He showed her the screen which now held a picture of her and Loki when they were nine. The two were sitting in the water of a fountain, laughing under the silver and gold statue of Elves, Dwarves, and armored warriors. Freyja's eyes turned sad and she took back the tablet from his hands. The screen went blank at her touch, her eyes turning down towards the crystal.

"An old memory," she answered curtly. "Enough of this, though. You wouldn't happen to have anything to eat, would you?"

He shrugged, "Not here. I could take you out to breakfast."

"Alright," she consented, walking over to Bruce.

"What are you doing?" Tony asked.

She stopped, "Waking up Dr. Banner to ask if he would like to accompany us."

"He's fine," he said. "He could use some sleep."

She looked confused, "You wish to leave him here?"

"We'll bring something back for him," Tony assured her.

"In my culture, we find it rude to leave guests when we intend to share a meal," she explained, looking away as she shook Bruce's shoulder gently, "Dr. Banner."

Bruce woke up with a start, glasses askew on his nose as he sat up, "What? Where are we?"

"In Tony Stark's Tower," she answered softly. "We are going to breakfast. Would you care to join us?"

"Breakfast? Sure. Sounds good," he answered. "Where're we going?"

"I was thinking shawarma," Tony spoke up.

"What is shawarma?" she asked, giving Bruce a sideways glance as he groaned.

"It's seasoned meat that's roasted for long periods of time and sliced," Bruce explained. "Tony's had an obsession with the stuff since last year. But, as I'm sure he's forgotten, shawarma isn't a breakfast food."

She looked at Tony, electing to ignore the eye roll he gave Bruce, "Is there anything without meat?"

"You're a vegetarian?"

"All Vanir are, or were," she added sadly.

"What do you mean 'were'?" Bruce asked.

She turned back to him, "Have you ever lost anyone you loved, Dr. Banner?"

"Yes. And 'Bruce' is just fine."

She nodded, "Then you will understand what I meant. But we should not linger on the unfortunate. Let us depart."

She walked into the elevator after Tony, with Bruce following behind.

"Tony said you could use magic," Bruce said as they rode down. "Is that true?"

"Humans have call it magic, Asgardians call it science; but in truth, it is simply the ability to use the full capacity of your mind and soul," she answered.

"Could you elaborate on that?"

She smiled, enjoying the return to teaching, "The Vanir are distinctly different from the many beings that inhabit the Nine Realms. We are the only species born with the natural ability to use the entire capabilities of the mind, even extending to our very souls themselves. This allows us to channel our auras to our whims, creating and manipulating the world around us – within the limits of reality, of course. I have developed a method that can unlock the dormant section of the mind of other beings, so that they too can reach their full potential, but it requires the participant to have a strong mind that will not break with the influx of heightened sensitivity.

"Now, what I have just explained to you is thanks to your own evolution. I previously did not have the words to describe such a concept, as your language did not yet have words which corresponded to mine, and so the idea confused many, leading them to call it by another name. When I was last on Earth, the humans were awed by the capabilities of my students, calling us sorcerers. However, Asgardians believe magic is a branch of science, which is true in many ways."

Bruce nodded, but was still a bit confused on the matter. He chose to remain silent, however, as the elevator came to a stop. The doors slid open and the trio walked out where Tony's limousine sat on the curb. They all stepped in, quiet as Tony gave the driver the directions.

"You said something about students earlier," Bruce noted. "Are you saying you taught magic?"

"Yes. I can name every one of them, choice Asgardians, Elves, and even a few humans who seemed prospective. I do miss teaching from time to time…"

"Were you the first to teach magic?"

"Do you recall how I said part of the brain of other species is dormant? No one taught magic to outsiders, as it was physically impossible for a very long time. Though I was not the first to try to awaken the minds of others, I was the first to do so successfully. I very nearly got myself into a lot of trouble, actually, as such a task was forbidden after the disastrous effects of the previous volunteers."

"What happened to the prior participants?"

She hesitated, "It was only tested twice before my own success. The first man, a Light Elf, went mad and died within a day. The second was an Asgardian. He was wounded terribly, but could not die, and so we turned him into an oak tree to end his suffering."

Tony sat up, looking appalled at her words, "You turned a man into a tree?"

"That was far before my time," she replied. "He still stands on the mountainside, or he did when I left. He should still be there. I can't imagine anything, or anyone, would harm him."

"You say that as if he were alive."

She raised an eyebrow, "Of course Eirik is alive. That was the point of transforming him into a tree. Interestingly, he is as wise as a Vanir now, perhaps even rivaling that of the Norns. If you are kind, he will tell you one of the worlds' secrets. I visited him many times in my youth."

"Eirik, the tree?" Tony repeated, looking as if he were about to laugh.

"If you doubt my words, I could show you," she said, offering her hand.

Tony scoffed and she turned towards Bruce, "The same offer stands for you."

He looked at her in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"I can allow you to see my memories of him, if you wish. Since your mind is not awakened, I can only show you through touch."

He shook his head, "I'll take your word for it."

"You are reluctant to see my memories," she guessed, placing her hands back in her lap.

"Peeking into somebody else's head?" Bruce asked. "It seems like an invasion of privacy, even if you're offering."

"I suppose I see how the offer could be off-putting for you. It did not strike me before, as my people used to share memories often. If two were very close, it was common for the two to go so far as create a bond between minds which allowed mutual entrance."

"You can enter peoples' minds?"

She nodded, becoming uncomfortable with where Tony's question might lead.

"Can you force those people to do what you want?"

"It is rude to enter a being's mind without his, her, or their permission," she said forcefully.

"So you can," he pointed out. "What else can you do?"

"Things you cannot possibly imagine."

"Such as…?"

She shot him a pointed look, "If I give you one example, will you be satisfied?"

"For now," he answered.

"I can rend a mind to pieces, leaving the person dead, insane, or no better than a vegetable."

Tony raised his eyebrows, "Interesting."

"But I have only done so once, and not by choice," she snapped before turning to Bruce, her voice softening. "Is that all you wish to know?"

"Could you, if you entered someone's mind, take away his ability to feel certain emotions?"

Freyja frowned, "Emotions are seated in the soul, not the mind. But I suppose, in theory, it is possible. My own people did so. Why do you ask?"

"There's something you should probably know about me," he said sheepishly.

"Bruce…"

The scientist looked up at Tony with an almost challenging expression, "If she's going to stay here, she deserves to know."

"Know what?"

He looked up at her, eyes earnest, "When I get angry, or upset…something happens to me. I don't really know how to explain it…"

"You could always show me," she suggested, offering her hand once again.

"How?"

"Focus on the memories you wish to show me, and I will see nothing else," she explained.

He took her hand hesitantly, as if he truly didn't want to, and instantly she saw flashes of memories. But they were blurred and quick and trying to catch a single one was like trying to hold onto smoke.

"Your mind is erratic," she told him. "I need you to calm yourself in order to see what you wish me to see."

He tried to calm down, but couldn't seem to. Suddenly, he felt a calm flow over him, like the peaceful, rhythmic pattern of waves on the shore, and he knew it was her. She saw the line of memories slower now, more understandable than before. She saw explosions, gunshots, and then Bruce. But then it wasn't Bruce, but a large, green monster. It tore apart trucks and buildings, killed and hurt people. Then there was a strange machine over him. It shone a green light into his eyes.

And suddenly she was back in the car, watching Bruce with new eyes.

"This…side of you, it comes out when you are angered?"

"Angry, surprised, startled, any emotion that sends my heartrate up. I haven't really found a way to fully control it."

"It's possible that I could help you with this," she said as the car came to a stop.

Tony barked out a laugh, though it sounded oddly disbelieving, "He tried to cure it once. No dice."

She shook her head, stepping out after him, "You misunderstand my words. I do not wish to cure this, for it can be helpful if harnessed correctly, much like my own magic. My abilities can be just as chaotic, just as dangerous to those around me, if I am not in full control at all times."

"This isn't something I can control," Bruce pointed out.

"I think I could help you. I will not force my aid on you, but I would appreciate it if you would think about my offer. A life on the run is no life, believe me."

Tony looked at her in surprise, "You've lived on the run?"

She flinched, internally cursing herself for revealing too much, "I am a nomad by heart – though the same could have been said for all of the Vanir – but recently, I have simply been running."

"From what?"

She looked at him, a well-controlled mask of apathy on her face, "Something I hope you never come to know."

Tony and Bruce exchanged a glance as she walked into the restaurant without them. Bruce gave a faint shrug, following her in without another word. It was probably best, he had decided, to leave some stones unturned. Tony was not satisfied to leave some secrets to Freyja. He preferred to know what was in the closets of those who stayed in his Tower.

His current priority, however, was to get breakfast. Freyja and Bruce were talking over the menus as they sat at one of the tables near the front. Pointing in their direction to the hostess, Tony managed to arrive at their table at the same time as the waitress.

"Okay," Tony said the woman. "I need one sunrise special with bacon. And a cup of caffeine, but you can keep the cream." – he looked at Freyja – "Do you know what you want?"

Freyja looked down at her menu, muttering, "I'm not really certain what any of this is…"

"She'll have the farmer's wrap," Tony told the waitress. "No bacon."

"Anything to drink?" the woman asked.

"Water will suffice," the Vanir replied.

The waitress nodded, scribbling into her notepad. Tony pulled out his cell phone, typing rapidly on the screen, as Bruce explained what he wanted.

"Do you mind if I invite someone?" he asked, even as the message was being sent.

"Not at all," she answered. "Though, might I ask whom?"

"Just wait, I think you'll like him. You'll have the same old-timey ideals."

"Would you mind letting Thor know where we are?" she asked. "I told him that we would meet."

Tony nodded, typing out a new message just as quickly as the last. Bruce looked in their direction as the waitress left.

"Who're you texting?" he asked.

"Steve," Tony replied. "He says he's bringing Natasha and Clint."

Bruce stopped as the phone gave a short trill and peered at the screen, "What's 'h-o-b-r-t' stand for?"

Tony raised his eyebrows at the message, "Your guess is as good as mine. I'm surprised he's even figured but how to use that phone."

The waitress returned with their drinks, placing a bottle of water before Freyja. She inspected the plastic bottle with an expression of unveiled curiosity. Both Bruce and Tony exchanged another amused glance at her actions. They did not know, however, that Freyja had never seen a water bottle before. She wasn't sure what to make of it, or how it might affect the taste of the water itself. Although she was certain they would not intentionally poison her, she was uncertain of how her body might react to the chemicals within the bottle, and so she checked the future just to make certain.

When one of her students had asked her what the future looked like, she had replied that it was similar to embroidery. And, in ways, it was. The future was always changing, always different within each strand that together formed different scenarios. 'Possibilities which become probabilities which become reality' is how she had always explained it. In order to tell which one would happen, she depended on small details that were unique to each strand. These could range from what color tunic a person may wear that day down to whether she happened across a stray coin in the road.

Freyja didn't see anything out of the ordinary, so she hesitantly twisted off the cap and took a sip. Satisfied that it was edible, she began to think about whom Steve, Natasha and Clint were. She remembered that all three were part of 'the Avengers', as Thor had explained to her the day before, but she still wondered what they were like. Bruce was kind enough, but Tony was complex and sometimes downright rude.

She didn't have to wait long for her answer, though. Not five minutes later, in walked a woman with red hair and a tall man with blonde hair and the posture of a soldier. Both were talking animatedly with broad smiles.

But it was the last man to walk in who captured her attention. He was completely unfamiliar to her, his face adorned with a wide nose, scowling mouth, a prominent brow, and light brown hair that was cropped short. But it was his eyes that caught her attention. The strange eyes that seemed to be a mix of blue, green and grey; eyes that were so similar to the ones which had contained cold apathy and hunger for bloodshed. Eyes that she had seen long ago, and haunted her in a nightmare of a memory. Eyes of an enemy.