Notes: Once again, I've provided a little made-up background stuff for Mitchell, because I don't remember the show offering details about his early life, and I can't find any online. If I've missed something, let's just put it down to alternate universes. Also, though these details haven't come out in the story before, we'll assume the housemates all know them already.
Also, regarding the fruitcake thing- I confess I was heavily influenced by jokes in American media on the subject, since the Avengers are Americans. I like the stuff myself, unless it's too boozy (lightweight, me!) and it's fun to see so many other fans!
Warnings: In case we need some.
Chapter Six
As far as Loki and Thor were concerned, coffee (or tea) and fruitcake made a very suitable breakfast, and between the two of them they made a considerable dent in the contents of the tin. Mitchell and George shared a piece, mostly for politeness although Mitchell agreed it was a very nice recipe. Several of the others were also emboldened to taste the cake, but all of them quickly offered their half-finished slices to the brothers, neither of whom was too proud to eat them.
Tony was still looking at them with an expression of bewilderment when he finally proposed they choose their activities for the day.
"Okay," he announced, "this morning we've got: tree-cutting, wreath-making, Pepper's tree ornament-making party, and searching the attics for those boxes of decorations from days gone by. What'll it be?"
Without hesitation, the women all and without exception volunteered to make ornaments with Pepper. Thinking about it, Loki was not surprised: although women formed a third of this party, under normal circumstances they were outnumbered on the Avengers, in SHIELD, and even (unless the witches were around) in Bristol. Loki remembered, long ago, wishing desperately for companions like himself, for even an afternoon in the presence of people who thought like himself, valued the same things, perhaps faced the same ridicule and silencing in the presence of warriors. He hoped the women of his acquaintance did not experience similar problems, or that same piercing loneliness- at least, not now- but he was entirely unsurprised that they should take advantage of any chance they were offered to band together for a little while.
Thor and Rhodey still had much to do on the wreath-making front. It transpired that, as a youth before the Great War (which Loki understood to be the World War that had preceded Steve's) Mitchell's family had decorated their home in Ireland with such greenery during the holiday season.
"Dad and my brothers and I used to make wreaths," he said. "I don't suppose I still remember how, but I should be able to learn again."
"How many of you were there?" Steve asked quietly.
"Four of us, before the war," Mitchell replied, equally quietly, although Mrs. Coulson was out of earshot. "I was the third. Afterward, there was only Mum and Dad."
"They never knew you were-?" Steve asked.
"No," Mitchell said. "And what I was then, they were better not knowing." Steve patted him on the shoulder and did not press him for further details.
"Think I'll try my hand at that, too," Fury announced. Mitchell was far too intrepid to change his choice of assignment, and in fact smiled at Fury. Loki suspected the fact Mitchell was already dead was a factor in his courage.
"Okay," said Tony, "what's left is tree-cutting, which I definitely want to do, and hunting down those old boxes of decorations."
"Hunting things down sounds up my alley," Coulson decided.
Tony grinned at him. "Okay, cool. The attics in this wing have of course been converted to guest rooms- Loki and Annie are in one of them- "
"Which is lovely, thank you, Tony," Loki spoke up.
"I hoped you'd like it. Anyway, in the other wing, the attics used to be servants' quarters, back in the old days when some poor little character had to get up at four o'clock in the morning to dust and make up fires and such before the rich folks got up, like house elves at Hogwarts- "
Or like servants in the palace of Asgard, Loki acknowledged guiltily. Although, at least, no one was compelled to scamper about with early tea trays, since the court did not know about tea.
"- and those rooms are now used for storage. I assume the boxes are clearly marked, because Dad was pretty anal about that kind of thing, but I have no idea where they'd be or how much other stuff is up there. Maybe JARVIS can help you."
"I will do my best, sir," JARVIS promised.
Steve looked a little guilty. "I can help, too," he offered. Loki glanced at Tony, quickly enough to see a flash of disappointment cross his host's face. It was gone in an instant, and Loki found himself recollecting that Steve had reasons of his own for disliking the cold and snow, much more pressing reasons than Loki, who of course did not even consciously remember his own unfortunate early experiences. It was clear that Tony understood, but at the same time-
"I would like to help find a tree," Loki said quickly. "Please."
"I'd like to do that, too," George spoke up.
"Count me in," Bruce said. "Although to be honest I don't know one end of an axe from another."
"I do," said Clint. "Although really, man, just look for the sharp edges."
"Thanks for the tip," said Bruce.
"I bet Loki's a hand with an axe, too," Clint pointed out.
"I have some experience," Loki admitted, "none of which is of much use to us in this context." There was a short pause while the others thought about that, and Loki looked a little sheepish.
"Well, if we're attacked by any trees, I'm sure you'll know exactly what to do," Clint said after a moment.
"A simple fire spell is generally enough to ward them off," Loki agreed casually, carefully suppressing a grin at the expressions his remark brought to the humans' faces.
"Okay, then," Tony said, his good humour renewed, "shall we get underway?"
~oOo~
Annie had been right about the snow: it was very much deeper here than it was back home in Bristol. This was particularly true in the forest, especially since there had clearly been no trespassers on Tony's property this winter. The five hearty woodsmen were compelled to break trail for themselves. The snow was well above Loki's knees as he trudged through it in the lead. As he was much the tallest member of the party, the others were even more seriously inconvenienced, even floundering along in Loki's tracks. The only member of the group who had no difficulty was, of course, Scamp, who scuttled cheerfully over the smooth white surface, tail wagging joyfully.
"You really never thought about investing in snowshoes?" Clint asked, for the third time at least in the past half-hour.
"'Fraid not," said Tony, sounding regretful and more than a little out of breath. He had long since ceased his renditions of "The Lumberjack Song," a circumstance Loki could not really mourn, the ability to sing apparently not being numbered among Tony's many virtues.
"You might want to get on that for next year," Bruce called tiredly from the rear, where he and George were taking their turn to drag the sled upon which the tree was to be carried.
In spite of the cold and the inconvenience, though, Loki found he really was enjoying himself. The exercise was keeping most of him warm, and his knitted hat and scarf protected his ears and neck, where the cold was most apt to attack. The sun was well up and shone brightly over the snow, he could see tracks of little animals across its surface, and a few hardy birds fluttered in the leafless branches above him. It was rather like the expeditions of his youth, except for the fact he was not trailing along at the rear, wishing someone would remember he was there and speak to him.
The section of forest nearest the house was made up of old fruit trees, and of oaks and maples, deciduous trees quite unsuitable for the current purpose. Loki found himself leading the way deeper into the forest, looking for evergreens of a suitable size to be chosen as a Christmas tree. He was imagining the height of the big front room where it was to be placed, trying to calculate a compromise between a size that would not be dwarfed by the space, but yet could be readily dragged back to the house by their party. He was also, it must be admitted, especially alert because he wanted, if possible, to be the one who actually found the tree for them. He was quite aware this was not a competition, but yet he hoped-
"Wait, everyone- look at that one," Loki called, gesturing with a mittened hand at a fir tree standing alone in a clearing. It was about three feet taller than Loki, with beautifully spread and shapely branches. Loki experienced a pang of regret at the idea of cutting it down, wondered whether it would be possible to cast a spell that would allow him to return it to its place here a few days hence. Still, it was a lovely example of what they were looking for.
"That's perfect, Loki," George called, with enthusiasm. Nobody else had much to add, and Loki, disappointed, looked around at his companions to see what their objections might be.
It took only a moment to see the problem was not with the tree, nor their opinions about it. Indeed, it seemed likely that none of the human members of the party had any opinions about anything at all at the moment, given their state of exhaustion. Loki found this alarming as well as confusing- he was admittedly rather tired himself, but was certainly nothing like as worn-out looking as-
Oh. Oh, of course: Loki had been so busy remembering expeditions of his distant youth, when he was the youngest and most easily tired, and had often found himself struggling along hoping someone else would suggest stopping for a rest... He had been so busy feeling glad that this journey was not like those others had been, that he had quite forgotten that most of his companions were human. Fit and healthy humans, yes, but humans nonetheless, and their physical endurance, while high for their species, was therefore nowhere nearly as great as that of any Aesir, let alone one in good condition. Or a werewolf, if it came to that.
"You are all- you should have said something," Loki exclaimed. "I did not realize how tired you were becoming!"
"Not tired," Bruce said, sitting down in the deep snow. Scamp hurried up to him and climbed into his lap, which might have been helpful had she possessed an actual body, and therefore body heat.
"Hey, man, don't do that," Clint said, leaning on a tree. "Didn't you read Jack London when you were a kid?"
"Anyway, we couldn't turn back before we found a tree," Tony pointed out.
"Bother the tree, you could have told me we needed to stop, and George and Thor and I could have come back later," Loki pointed out. He knew as he said it that he was being silly: not even Bruce, let alone the prouder and more stubborn Clint and Tony, would have consented to be the one who asked to stop. Which Loki, after centuries in the same position, should have realized. How he could have been so thoughtless-
"Anyway, we're here now," Tony said. "And that tree's perfect, so how about we cut it down and talk about getting back after?"
"Good idea," Clint applauded, then slid down his tree and sat in the snow. Loki opened his mouth to remind him that sitting down was not a good idea right now, but decided against it. Instead, he floundered through the deep snow to the sled, where he retrieved the axe in its protective sheath.
Tyr the weapons-master had taught the art of axe-handling, but Loki had spoken truth when he said the lessons had not had much to do with trees. Still, there were definite points in common, and before long the tree was lying in the snow. George brought some lengths of cord from a backpack on the sled, and together they tied up the branches to prevent damage to their prize in transit.
And then they looked at the three exhausted, and by now very chilled, humans, and Loki began to feel serious misgivings.
"You are not going to be able to walk all that way back," he said flatly. "Not without resting, and it is too cold for that."
"Apparently not," Tony admitted, after an attempt to get to his feet. "I don't suppose you can turn yourself into a team of malamutes?"
"No," Loki replied. "Although I do not know what a malamute is." He chewed his lower lip. "However- "
There was no real explanation for his decision, before they left the house, to add one more item of equipment to the backpack with the cords and the sheathed axe. He had not really expected to need it. Indeed, he had not wanted to need it. However, they had proposed to hike off into deep snow, and Loki supposed he had feared himself getting into distress and needing a way to avoid becoming a drag on the company.
"Bruce," he said, "whatever I do next, can you promise you will not become angry?"
"I'll do my best," was the answer. "Although, to be honest, I'm starting to feel just the tiniest bit peevish, and if we go on like this much longer- "
The idea of being out here in the forest with George, two exhausted humans, and the Hulk was sufficient to spur Loki to action.
"Wait here," he ordered, and from the backpack he pulled a pair of bright red running shorts. The red was regrettable, but this was the largest pair he had been able to find, and it was not as if Loki proposed to wear them very often in public. He had only packed them because... well, he did not really know why he had packed them, but apparently it was lucky he had.
Leaving three of his companions looking very puzzled indeed, Loki ducked (for reasons of modesty) into a thick stand of trees and began hastily to disrobe. The cold quickly went from unpleasant to nearly unbearable, especially on his bare feet, and his hands were soon almost too cold to manage the shorts. And then it took him a moment to cease thinking about the discomfort of the external cold, to close his eyes and concentrate on calling up a sensation of internal cold.
A moment later, however, he could feel the change, the chill spreading from his diaphragm outward, then the sensation of a pleasantly mild temperature. He opened his eyes to a world in which the glare of sunlight on snow was muted, all colours were subtly darkened, and everything around him seemed a great deal smaller.
"All right," he called, his voice no longer exactly his own, but deeper and rumbling from his new barrel of a chest, "I am coming out again." He pushed aside the branches in his way and tramped into the open.
Scamp reacted first, bounding up and wriggling around him in one of her joyous circles. And George, of course, had known exactly what Loki was going to do. It occurred to him that he might have been well-advised to tell the others his plan, rather than keep his own counsel and then spring this on them.
It also occurred to him, although he had not done it on purpose, that this was probably a test.
There was a moment of stunned silence. Then Tony said,
"Holy shit, Loki. When did you get so big? You weren't that big when Helblindi used the Casket to, to bring you back- " from the dead "- and it turned you Jotun that time."
"This is a recent development," Loki admitted. His theory was that his magic had needed contact with the Jotnar, to learn to change his form fully. "I am still very small, for a Jotun- "
"Yeah, but there's a big damn difference between six-foot-two and eight foot whatever-you-are. Does Thor know you can do this? Have you ever picked him up and sat him on your knee, like a little kid with Santa Claus?" Tony was not too tired to be gleeful, which was no surprise from Tony.
It was more of a shock when Clint burst out laughing.
"Sorry," he spluttered. "Sorry, sorry, it's just- you're blue. You're all blue, and those shorts are red, and... Superman pajamas. I had Superman pajamas, when I was a kid, and you look just like you're wearing- " He collapsed against his tree, giggling weakly.
Loki looked down at himself as Bruce also began to laugh. "Yes, well. The red is unfortunate- "
"Unfortunately awesome," Clint corrected him.
"But it was difficult to find shorts large enough to fit me in this form." This made all three humans howl with laughter- giddy with exhaustion, Loki decided. "I suggest you all ride on the sled, and I will carry the tree and pull you. Yes?"
"It's just like the year I was six," Tony spluttered, almost weeping with laughter. "Dad and I went looking for the tree together, at the country house in New York- a little father-and-son bonding, and then I got tired and Dad had to drag me home on the toboggan and carry the tree." He wiped his eyes with a gloved hand. "I think that was the best day I ever spent with Dad."
Perhaps it was not entirely laughter, that made Tony's eyes so wet.
"Well," Loki said, for lack of anything better to offer, "now you may pretend you have brothers."
"And a Dad who goes out in public in Superman pajamas," Clint hooted, floundering onto the sled.
Bruce collapsed next to him, but asked, "Really, though, have you shown this form to Thor yet? He's never mentioned it."
"Yes," Loki replied. "At Thanksgiving. He was rather startled, though not troubled by it. I suppose... I suppose he must have decided to let me show you all on my own time."
"Well, I'm certainly glad you did it now," Tony said, to sounds of general agreement. He pushed the other two to budge up so he could also sit down. He pulled George with him. Scamp considered the situation, and also hopped onto the sled, sitting at the very front and wagging her tail, rather like the Grinch's little dog, Max.
"Can you touch anyone, when you're like this?" Bruce asked. "We had to be careful, when the Jotnar were helping us, right?"
"Right," Loki replied. "I think there must be some way to stop my touch from automatically hurting other living creatures, though. Annie brought a book about Jotunheim from Asgard, after the celebrations. It was written before the war- I wish I had known about it centuries ago- and it referred to marriages between the Jotnar and several other races of the Nine Realms. It was only afterward that they became so isolated. At any rate, that must mean they can somehow hold in the power that burns others, yes?"
"Like holding your breath?" Bruce speculated, as Loki began to pull.
"Like holding in your wee, maybe," George suggested, and Loki stumbled a little as the remark startled a giggle out of him.
"Yes, well, hold on, the lot of you, and do not make me come back there," Loki rumbled, in his best imitation of Midgardian fathers he had seen on the television. Then, pulling the sled behind him, he began briskly to walk back toward the house.