Never Noticed, 2/2.
Title: Never Noticed
Series: #19 in Ready For The Siege
(#1 - Look Over Your Shoulder, #2 - Armed Up To The Teeth, #3 - Misery Inspires, #4 - Broken Underneath, #5 - Change Is Coming Soon, #6 - Lick Your Wounds, #7 - Bitter Sparks, #8 - Father's Will, #9 - To Feel Safe Again, #10 - Hit Your Prime, #11 - Open Your Eyes, #12 - Can't Be Ignored, #13 - Make You Ill, #14 - Aim Straight, #15 - Not The First Time, #16 - Friendly Fire, #17 - Relieved, #18 - Release)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: G (I know, I know, don't go into shock! :D )
Pairing: mentions of Loki/Natasha, Natasha/Bucky
Disclaimer: Not mine! Some comic backstory is incorporated into characterizations, but this is still primarily movieverse.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-Avengers, AU to the rest of MCU. References events in prior stories as well as Red Room mindfuckery, PTSD, violence.
Title and series title from "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups.
Summary: Magic can be very complicated, even for someone as skilled as Frigga. (Or, why Wanda gets back to Earth.)
Prior chapter:
One - Camaraderie
Two - Transitions
A string of odd thefts in the Upper West Side barely even made it to the newspapers or cable news stations. A jewelry store here, fine china there, and an antique shop or two. The link between them was the terribly confused staff sure they remembered purple. "All purple," one clerk said. "Skin, hair, eyes, clothes... The man was all purple. He looked at me, said something, and everything else just... faded. I don't remember what comes next."
"What did he say?" one of the NYPD officers had asked.
"I have no idea. I don't remember anything."
Security footage confirmed that the Purple Man, as the NYPD were calling him, strolled into each store, talked with the staffers, and strolled out with whatever he wanted.
"It looks like he's setting up house," one officer commented.
Perhaps if it stayed as a few stores or banks, the Purple Man would have remained on the loose and barely a footnote in the evening news. But the Purple Man's smile was especially vicious at the last theft, and whatever he said had the clerk slitting his own throat with a box cutter, the cut deep enough to strike bone. The police officers didn't think it was ordinary at all, and contacted SHIELD for help.
When Stephen Strange dismissed it as nonmagical, Agent Maria Hill contacted Loki. "I don't buy it as not a magical event. That's not dye or makeup that got him purple, and it has to be magic that has him getting whatever he wants just by talking."
"Doctor Strange knows his craft," Loki told Maria. "If he says it's not magic, it isn't. It could be something else affecting those poor souls."
"Then figure it out and let us know."
Loki backtracked to one of the earlier thefts and found Air Force Special Operations personnel locking it down and refusing to tell the building owner why. He thought of Rhodes and Danvers at Avengers Tower after the gala, of how there was some kind of official business that Rhodes had. Tony would likely know, whether because of his ties to Rhodes as a friend or via official Stark Industries business. Still, he wasn't likely to tell Loki what was going on.
Pulling magic around himself in an invisibility spell, Loki crept closer to the Air Force personnel. They didn't tell the shop owner anything interesting, but staff inside the building were looking for radiation signatures, chemical spills or other signs to track down the Purple Man. "You'd think the Oscorp scientists would give us more to go on," one of the investigators grumbled when all of the scans were inconclusive."
"They didn't know how the explosion even happened. They're just lucky some of the Avengers were nearby to contain the fires. Imagine if there were more of these guys?"
The first investigator snorted. "More dead people."
"Right. So get a move on. This guy doesn't seem to have an agenda we can figure out."
Loki frowned and considered the known facts about the Purple Man that Maria had given him along with her request for assistance. Until this last theft, there had been no violence at all. He spoke to the store staff, and then got whatever he wanted. It could be seidr, but Strange would have recognized that as magic. Pheromones or radiation would have been recognized by the military investigators.
It wasn't an easy option. If it was, SHIELD wouldn't have needed his help. Even their facial recognition software wasn't finding him, thought it was likely because they were looking for purple skin and clothing. Loki could probably create a spell to do something similar, but it was redundant, boring, and obviously unhelpful.
If the purple wasn't makeup, it was his actual skin color. There were some races on other planets with different color skins, but some of them really weren't compatible with life on Earth. He doubted that most of those races would really be interested in human antiques.
But that meant this man was in hiding somewhere. He collected those things to create a home, not to resell it for money. The bank robberies were likely to ensure he wouldn't have to leave his new home until after the fervor died down and no one was looking for him. A solid plan, but Loki could find him. Spells could be tailored, couldn't be fooled the way mortal technology could be. He could draw upon Yggrasil's power if he truly liked, but after taking apart the Essine Ruby two years ago and siphoning off its power, it was unnecessary. Using Amora's rings of power would be foolhardy, and also unnecessary. He wasn't that irritated by this task Maria had given him, and wasn't quite ready for it to be over yet.
The only thing more irritating than finding the Purple Man was the boredom it would leave in its wake. Let him have his solitude for a time. Loki could craft a proper locator spell and trap him where he was hiding. Then he could present the fool to Maria and figure out what else he could do to help the time pass.
***
Pietro was actually having a fabulous time on Asgard. When it was determined that his gifts had been limited to speed and he didn't have an affinity for magic, the Queen asked if he was willing to learn combat skills with the palace guard. He had thought it was a good idea; speed would only get him so far, and knowing how to handle himself in a real fight would be good. Someone had to protect the little kids, right? One of the guards had been offended by his speed, and how it gave him ridiculous momentum for his punches. The guard nicknamed him Quicksilver, and he found that he actually liked the name.
Maeginbiorn, the high karl blacksmith, had enjoyed the idea of fashioning weapons that Pietro could use even at his rapid pace. Ordinary steel would shatter on impact, rendering it useless for him in quick combat. He wound up having to layer specialized metal over a core of ordinary steel, then spells of a quality ordinarily reserved for royalty alone. But Queen Frigga backed Pietro and covered the cost of clothing, feeding, housing, teaching and supplying the ragtag band of orphans that had been altered on Midgard. Most had magic, but Pietro was the only speedster in the bunch.
"This is a fine blade," Pietro said in awe, picking up the sword when it was complete.
Grinning with pride, Maeginbiorn rubbed his hands together. "Would you like an accompanying short sword? Daggers? Something for your twin sister, perhaps? This was such a delightful challenge, I wouldn't want it to end our acquaintance."
Thinking about it, Petro nodded. "Some of the kids are really small. If we get back to Earth, they're not going to be able to defend themselves. And contrary to what my sister and the Queen think, magic doesn't solve every problem."
"Neither does a sword."
"I know. But between the two of us, we'd be able to figure out just about anything."
"Ah. Because your skills balance each other out."
"Something like that," Pietro agreed. It was easier that way than trying to explain how their twin bonding had worked before the Age of Miracles began. Afterward, their twin bonding had become even more intense. Probably because of Wanda's magic.
"Well, I know not of the magicks the Queen would be teaching Lady Wanda. But I know some defensive spells and how to apply certain regenerative spells to the blades. Past that, I've no skill at all in those arts."
"I'm glad you have skill in the magic spells you do have," Pietro replied. He liked Maeginbiorn's straightforward manner, especially after seeing the result of the endless string of spells that could toughen up weapons or the armor he forged in the smithy.
Maeginbiorn laughed. "Ah, lad, the most important lesson is the first one: learn when to drop the cause and run, or when to fight."
"Doesn't seem like a warrior culture would want to run."
"You do if you have no backup, no weapons, no armor, and still want to live another day. Even finely trained warriors sometimes need to regroup." Maeginbiorn patted Pietro's arm in a friendly way. "Call it battle tactics or strategy if you must, but it's common. Now, here's a beauty I worked on for one of the jarls. Try the balance, see if it's something you'd like at your side when you're in battle."
Testing it as he had been taught, Pietro still wasn't sure what he was even feeling. But then again, his tutors and Maeginbiorn knew best about that. "Feels good," he murmured.
"I'll keep this in mind," the armorer replied with a grin. "In the meantime, keep that. Or give it to your sister. All ladies should have some kind of weapon on their person in order to preserve their virtue and worth."
"I think she can defend her own virtue, thanks."
"There are those who may not think so. Or distrust the magic she carries." When Pietro opened his mouth to reply, Maeginbiorn merely laughed and waved off his concern. "Oh, don't worry about your sister. I'm certainly not afraid of her, and anyone with any sort of sense wouldn't be, either. She seems the good sort."
"I think so, too. Most of the time," Pietro joked. Maeginbiorn laughed along with him, and waved him out of the shop.
Pietro liked him and the other artisans of Asgard much better than most of the warriors he had to train with. Surely it would only be a little while longer, then they could all return to earth and find their way around their old lives. Or maybe not, given their powers. All in all, Asgard wasn't so bad. He might even miss it when he was gone. But Midgard was his home, and he needed to get back and help to defend it. That was the only way Pietro could see erasing the evil that Baron von Strucker had introduced into all of their lives. He refused to believe that their little group of miracle children were the only ones created.
And after reading the Baron's notes on himself and the others, Pietro wasn't going to let anyone take advantage of them ever again.
***
Wanda stood in the middle of Frigga's personal library, a translation spell active. It was odd, how she could do things like that so easily, yet some of the other baby magicks still refused to come to her without considerable effort. There were treatises on the different kinds of magic, of the spá and how to manipulate it. Is that what she was doing without really realizing it? Was she manipulating her own spá and that of others? She had piles of scrolls and books around her, and she felt as though she had sucked magic itself out of them. A fanciful notion, really, but magic seemed to stir restlessly beneath her skin. She was constantly studying and practicing, even outside of her lessons with Frigga and her handmaidens, even when the younger children wanted to play.
"I thought I would find you here again."
Turning with the scroll still in her hands, Wanda refused to feel guilty as she faced Frigga. The queen was exquisitely dressed in sea foam green and gold, the golden jewelry highlighting the elegant slope of her neck and shoulders, the hair piled up and pinned in place with jewels. She had a similar kind of dress, though instead of the muted blues and greens and golds that most of the women seemed to dress in, Wanda had gone for scarlet. Sif and Thor accented their wardrobe with it, but she decided to go all out in the color. She generally wore a scarlet underdress and cape, and a sheer overdress to let the scarlet show through. The little kids thought she looked so glamorous, and Wanda simply ignored the tittering idiots at court that tried to insult her when Frigga wasn't around. She had decided she was going to be the Scarlet Witch they called her, and that was that. So if they had a few unfortunate accidents due to her spells... Well, then they'd learn not to mess with her.
"You had said I could use your study to learn."
"Of course. I also said you had free run of my gardens and music room."
She flushed a little, caught out. "I've read in the gardens and music room, too."
Frigga's smile was kind and sincerely amused, but it wasn't amusement at her expense. "Keep up your studies like that, and you certainly will master magic in your lifetime. You may be as good as I am."
"Oh." She blinked in surprise, because she certainly hadn't thought she was that good, and it was fantastic to hear that her hard work was paying off.
"So perhaps it's time for us to sit and discuss the shape of your future studies."
As if that didn't sound ominous at all. But Wanda sat at the table with Frigga and tried to look anything but anxious. She wasn't sure if she succeeded; discussion of the future before had only been more experiments, more tests, more comments about how she had to bring glory to the Baron's vision of the world. She barely remembered her mother anymore, but knew that anything the Baron wanted had to be terrible if he had to kill her mother in order to get the twins.
"The kind of study we've been doing is focused mainly on theory and study. This is excellent for the foundations of magic, for understanding how it works. You've been able to put years of study together in such a short time. While I have much more in my library and far more that we can teach, I have concern about the practical applications of what you've learned. There really are few opportunities for that on Asgard."
"The little ones-"
"Are nowhere near the skill level you are at. There used to be more practitioners on Asgard, but most went to other realms or created their own in order to study. I know you're having a hard time with the aristocracy here," Frigga began gently.
"I can take it. They don't scare me," Wanda retorted hotly.
"But you scare them. And they hate what they fear. Should you practice your art more openly, I worry that they would seek to do actual harm."
"But you-"
"I'm the Queen. And they believe my skills are theoretical, all study. We allow the fiction because of the fears that the people have. My art is quiet, subtle, something easily dismissed by the public. You don't have the protection of status that I do, and your strengths are..." Frigga paused, obviously trying to find a neutral word.
"Flashy," Wanda supplied.
"They can be," Frigga replied with a smile. "And I care about your continued growth as a student as well as a woman. You are young yet, even if you feel yourself worldly and mature. There is so much more you can learn outside of a library."
"But I have so much to catch up on! All this potential you keep talking about... I need to figure out what to do with it, don't I?"
"Well, yes, but there are a number of practitioners I could apprentice you to, depending on what kind of magic you would like to practice."
Wanda looked at her shrewdly. "Would this have more to do with those rumors of Lorelei trying to escape the dungeons?"
Frigga sighed, her eyes shifting sideways. "There will always be rumors," she began.
"The rumors also say she only affects men. So she wouldn't affect me."
She sighed again, and met Wanda's gaze this time. "Her magic is generally dangerous. Highly destructive, completely self serving, and she has little care for the welfare of others."
"So... Too much like mine," Wanda groused.
"My dear, hers is not an influence that would help you."
Something like resentment flared in Wanda's chest, but she ruthlessly squelched it. Frigga wasn't trying to limit her learning or use it for personal gain. But it still rankled to be treated like an idiot child who couldn't decide for herself.
"Then send me down with someone you trust," Wanda asked. "I want to see what this looks like when someone goes off the rails. Like a cautionary tale."
Though Frigga seemed dubious, the reasoning itself was rather sound. "Lady Sif had helped capture her before, and arrived to help assist security measures. Perhaps she could explain the difficulties involved with Lorelei."
Wanda nodded. "Seems like a plan to me."
"And afterward," Frigga said slowly, as if she was thinking aloud, "you can accompany her on her journey back to Earth. While there, perhaps I request that you train with Loki and perhaps Doctor Strange. Their skills are different, and more likely to encourage practical application of the knowledge you've amassed thus far."
After agreeing, Wanda met with Sif for the first time. The warrior was tall, with her black hair pulled back into a severe ponytail. Her armor gleamed, and she carried her sword at her side and her shield on her arm. The flouncy red skirt was short enough to showcase her long legs and the intricate scrollwork in her botts. "I hope you don't think you need that for me," Wanda said, eyeing the sword warily.
Sif merely grinned at her after bowing to Frigga. "Just a reminder for Lorelei."
Wanda quickly got lost in the hallways of the palace. Down in the dungeons, open cells with spells and force fields kept in the worst of Asgardian criminals. At the far end, away from others, was Lorelei. Of average height, she had long dark hair that hung loosely, pale skin, dark eyes. It was difficult to picture as menacing. She wore a black and navy blue dress, with a gold collar around her throat that flared up over her mouth. Even here, there was such reticence to letting her speak, and it gave Wanda chills. Magic might have been accepted, but only certain kinds of magic, the lesser spells that could be parlor tricks or waved away as baby magic or helpful. Truly intricate magic was distrusted.
Which meant she would be distrusted.
Once the force field was taken down for Sif to enter, she produced a small golden key. Wanda finally noticed the two locks in the back of the collar, and only one of them was unlocked. The flared part of the collar fell away into Sif's outstretched palm. Lorelei worked her jaws slightly, as if they had been held tightly in place.
"So you see fit to visit me here," she began. Her expression brightened when she saw Wanda standing there, and she stood. "Oh. You bring a favored guest. I can feel the magic in her, Sif. How delightful."
"Remember your place, Lorelei," Sif hissed.
Lorelei waved a hand negligently. "Of course. I have you here to remind me. Tell me, does Thor still favor another over you?"
Sif bristled, though she otherwise ignored Lorelei. Instead, she looked to Wanda. "Here's your chance. Say what you wish."
That led Lorelei to look at Wanda sharply, taking in her red garb, clasped hands and reticence to come any closer. "Do you fear me?" she asked, lip curling in amusement. "Or did you wish for me to teach you the ways of controlling men?"
Wanda laughed derisively at that one. "Oh, come on. Controlling men is easy. Flash them boob and leg and they'll drool. Why didn't you ever do anything useful with your magic?"
Now it was Lorelei that bristled and snarled in Allspeak. The translation spell from earlier was still active, so Wanda understood it all. "You ignorant worm! Mine is a long and distinguished line! I have skills of such you could never dare to dream!"
Crossing her arms beneath her breasts, Wanda stared at Lorelei, unamused. "I don't know. I can dream a whole helluva lot."
Lorelei again seemed thrown by Wanda's response. Sif looked at her in respect, and Wanda found she valued Sif's opinion, even if she hadn't even met her before. Maybe because Frigga held her in such high regard, and she was close friends with the royal family. Maybe because her warrior status set her apart on Asgard, just as Wanda would be set apart on Earth, just as her own favored skills set her apart here.
"I suppose I thought you would be impressive," Wanda said, head tilted to the side as she looked at Lorelei critically. She didn't have that sense of magic the way Lorelei and Frigga seemed to, but maybe that was something that could be cultivated in time. "I suppose I thought I would see what someone scary looks like."
"Do I frighten you?" Lorelei laughed. "Do I give you nightmares, little one?"
Wanda hated the grating sound of her laughter. She vaguely remembered similar laughter as a child, before her mother died - was killed-by people who thought they were better than the Roma. She remembered once being afraid of them, of being singled out, of the condescending words and hateful stares, of the helpless way her mother told her to avoid them. "My nightmares are worse than you are. You don't have anything to teach me."
"Teach you?" Lorelei spat, lips curled in disgust. "You're an infant playing with baby magic. You have no comprehension of the majesty of-"
Wanda lifted a hand as Lorelei spoke, fingers making a stroking motion as her red colored magic shot across the space between them. It grasped the collar piece from Sif's hand and shoved it back into place over Lorelei's mouth. "It wasn't for fear of her doing magic. It's because she's a self important twat that can't fucking shut up."
Sif laughed outright and fitted the key back into the lock. When Lorelei raised her hands as if she would touch Sif, she dropped her right hand to her sword hilt. Getting the message, Lorelei lapsed back into quiescence and let the collar be fitted back into place, and watched with resentment when the force field fell back into place.
"Watch her," Wanda murmured to Sif as they walked down the hallway toward the dungeon entrance. "She's got nothing to do in there other than sit and stew. If she gets out, I'm sure she'll burn this place to the ground."
"You're not wrong," Sif admitted as they walked.
"Which is why I'm telling you. The guards would listen to you."
"Perhaps," Sif said quietly. "There are many things on their minds."
"Though it probably would have been easier to just kill her if she's that dangerous."
"But then are we better than she is? Are we the enlightened ones we think we are?" Sif asked in return, letting her out of the dungeon.
"Other criminals are hanged here."
"For murder," Sif pointed out. "It's one of the worst crimes in our realm. Most everything else can be rehabilitated."
"Solitary confinement's cruel. It won't rehabilitate anyone."
Sif took a long and careful look at Wanda before making a right turn in the hallways. "I think you are far more skilled than you thought," Sif remarked. "The guards here are not interested in interacting with the prisoners. Time to reflect on crimes is felt to be useful here."
Wanda snorted. "Sure. To figure out what went wrong so you can do it better next time."
Startled, Sif seemed to mull that over as she led Wanda to her quarters. They were to pack up belongings for the move, but it was interrupted many times by the other children flitting in and out her room to show her their spells or talk about how the gardens had looked. They weren't concerned by Wanda packing up to go, especially once she reassured them she would return to check up on them. It had been her role while they were in the Baron's clutches.
Sif looked at her kindly when Wanda seemed almost lost and bereft after the last little boy left the room, all smiles and confidence that he would have far more interesting spells to show her once she returned. "You are not necessarily as old as we are, but it seems you have absorbed some of our Queen's wisdom."
Wanda thought about that, as well as her feeling that she could alter the spá in herself and others. "Maybe I did."
"Let us wish her goodbye before we return via the observatory. Travel by the Bifrost is rather dramatic and impressive. Time seems to have progressed here farther than it had on Midgard. I wish to see my brother for a time."
It was easy to say yes to that. Frigga was as gracious as ever, and the Observatory was indeed impressive. Wanda politely ignored Sif and Heimdall talking, and thought of the spá and how it was so easily shaped and reshaped. Looking down at her hands, she could see a soft red glow shimmering beneath her skin, as if her magic was just waiting to be tapped.
She was actually looking forward to Earth again.
***
Loki may not have liked the thought of being saddled with an apprentice, especially at Sif's order, but hearing that Doctor Strange would be Frigga's other choice? Insulting. That simply couldn't be borne.
Wanda didn't seem overly enthusiastic to be a pupil, and it was likely because they had filled her head full of nonsense and dire warnings about his evil ways.
Pulling together an illusion spell, Loki stood in the center of a group of robots, his arms crossed and his glower at Wanda in full force. It did seem to impress her a bit. "You think illusions are weak, don't you?" he snarled at her.
"Well, it's not as if illusions can do much good..."
"Then you clearly don't have imagination enough for the task."
That made her bristle. "I can do anything you can do!"
"Oh?" The robots advanced toward Wanda. "Then prove it."
"What the hell kind of fucked up training is this?"
"Frigga says you studied endlessly. Prove it."
Wanda shrieked as one of the robots grasped her arm tightly. "How the hell are you doing that with an illusion spell?!"
Loki couldn't help but laugh at her terror. The robots all winked out of existence, leaving her cowering and looking about to cry. "So. Still think there's nothing for me to teach you?"
She gave him a sour look. "You are an awful creature."
"Did anyone suggest I wouldn't be?"
"Well, no..." Wanda straightened. "Okay, maybe there's something to this seidr thing after all," she admitted.
He gave her the manic grin with sharp teeth that gave everyone pause. Wanda was no different, though she hid her fear fairly well. If anything it might be a delightful challenge to learn where her buttons were and try to push them. "Excellent. Let's begin."
The End
Series: #19 in Ready For The Siege
(#1 - Look Over Your Shoulder, #2 - Armed Up To The Teeth, #3 - Misery Inspires, #4 - Broken Underneath, #5 - Change Is Coming Soon, #6 - Lick Your Wounds, #7 - Bitter Sparks, #8 - Father's Will, #9 - To Feel Safe Again, #10 - Hit Your Prime, #11 - Open Your Eyes, #12 - Can't Be Ignored, #13 - Make You Ill, #14 - Aim Straight, #15 - Not The First Time, #16 - Friendly Fire, #17 - Relieved, #18 - Release)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: G (I know, I know, don't go into shock! :D )
Pairing: mentions of Loki/Natasha, Natasha/Bucky
Disclaimer: Not mine! Some comic backstory is incorporated into characterizations, but this is still primarily movieverse.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-Avengers, AU to the rest of MCU. References events in prior stories as well as Red Room mindfuckery, PTSD, violence.
Title and series title from "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups.
Summary: Magic can be very complicated, even for someone as skilled as Frigga. (Or, why Wanda gets back to Earth.)
Prior chapter:
One - Camaraderie
Two - Transitions
A string of odd thefts in the Upper West Side barely even made it to the newspapers or cable news stations. A jewelry store here, fine china there, and an antique shop or two. The link between them was the terribly confused staff sure they remembered purple. "All purple," one clerk said. "Skin, hair, eyes, clothes... The man was all purple. He looked at me, said something, and everything else just... faded. I don't remember what comes next."
"What did he say?" one of the NYPD officers had asked.
"I have no idea. I don't remember anything."
Security footage confirmed that the Purple Man, as the NYPD were calling him, strolled into each store, talked with the staffers, and strolled out with whatever he wanted.
"It looks like he's setting up house," one officer commented.
Perhaps if it stayed as a few stores or banks, the Purple Man would have remained on the loose and barely a footnote in the evening news. But the Purple Man's smile was especially vicious at the last theft, and whatever he said had the clerk slitting his own throat with a box cutter, the cut deep enough to strike bone. The police officers didn't think it was ordinary at all, and contacted SHIELD for help.
When Stephen Strange dismissed it as nonmagical, Agent Maria Hill contacted Loki. "I don't buy it as not a magical event. That's not dye or makeup that got him purple, and it has to be magic that has him getting whatever he wants just by talking."
"Doctor Strange knows his craft," Loki told Maria. "If he says it's not magic, it isn't. It could be something else affecting those poor souls."
"Then figure it out and let us know."
Loki backtracked to one of the earlier thefts and found Air Force Special Operations personnel locking it down and refusing to tell the building owner why. He thought of Rhodes and Danvers at Avengers Tower after the gala, of how there was some kind of official business that Rhodes had. Tony would likely know, whether because of his ties to Rhodes as a friend or via official Stark Industries business. Still, he wasn't likely to tell Loki what was going on.
Pulling magic around himself in an invisibility spell, Loki crept closer to the Air Force personnel. They didn't tell the shop owner anything interesting, but staff inside the building were looking for radiation signatures, chemical spills or other signs to track down the Purple Man. "You'd think the Oscorp scientists would give us more to go on," one of the investigators grumbled when all of the scans were inconclusive."
"They didn't know how the explosion even happened. They're just lucky some of the Avengers were nearby to contain the fires. Imagine if there were more of these guys?"
The first investigator snorted. "More dead people."
"Right. So get a move on. This guy doesn't seem to have an agenda we can figure out."
Loki frowned and considered the known facts about the Purple Man that Maria had given him along with her request for assistance. Until this last theft, there had been no violence at all. He spoke to the store staff, and then got whatever he wanted. It could be seidr, but Strange would have recognized that as magic. Pheromones or radiation would have been recognized by the military investigators.
It wasn't an easy option. If it was, SHIELD wouldn't have needed his help. Even their facial recognition software wasn't finding him, thought it was likely because they were looking for purple skin and clothing. Loki could probably create a spell to do something similar, but it was redundant, boring, and obviously unhelpful.
If the purple wasn't makeup, it was his actual skin color. There were some races on other planets with different color skins, but some of them really weren't compatible with life on Earth. He doubted that most of those races would really be interested in human antiques.
But that meant this man was in hiding somewhere. He collected those things to create a home, not to resell it for money. The bank robberies were likely to ensure he wouldn't have to leave his new home until after the fervor died down and no one was looking for him. A solid plan, but Loki could find him. Spells could be tailored, couldn't be fooled the way mortal technology could be. He could draw upon Yggrasil's power if he truly liked, but after taking apart the Essine Ruby two years ago and siphoning off its power, it was unnecessary. Using Amora's rings of power would be foolhardy, and also unnecessary. He wasn't that irritated by this task Maria had given him, and wasn't quite ready for it to be over yet.
The only thing more irritating than finding the Purple Man was the boredom it would leave in its wake. Let him have his solitude for a time. Loki could craft a proper locator spell and trap him where he was hiding. Then he could present the fool to Maria and figure out what else he could do to help the time pass.
***
Pietro was actually having a fabulous time on Asgard. When it was determined that his gifts had been limited to speed and he didn't have an affinity for magic, the Queen asked if he was willing to learn combat skills with the palace guard. He had thought it was a good idea; speed would only get him so far, and knowing how to handle himself in a real fight would be good. Someone had to protect the little kids, right? One of the guards had been offended by his speed, and how it gave him ridiculous momentum for his punches. The guard nicknamed him Quicksilver, and he found that he actually liked the name.
Maeginbiorn, the high karl blacksmith, had enjoyed the idea of fashioning weapons that Pietro could use even at his rapid pace. Ordinary steel would shatter on impact, rendering it useless for him in quick combat. He wound up having to layer specialized metal over a core of ordinary steel, then spells of a quality ordinarily reserved for royalty alone. But Queen Frigga backed Pietro and covered the cost of clothing, feeding, housing, teaching and supplying the ragtag band of orphans that had been altered on Midgard. Most had magic, but Pietro was the only speedster in the bunch.
"This is a fine blade," Pietro said in awe, picking up the sword when it was complete.
Grinning with pride, Maeginbiorn rubbed his hands together. "Would you like an accompanying short sword? Daggers? Something for your twin sister, perhaps? This was such a delightful challenge, I wouldn't want it to end our acquaintance."
Thinking about it, Petro nodded. "Some of the kids are really small. If we get back to Earth, they're not going to be able to defend themselves. And contrary to what my sister and the Queen think, magic doesn't solve every problem."
"Neither does a sword."
"I know. But between the two of us, we'd be able to figure out just about anything."
"Ah. Because your skills balance each other out."
"Something like that," Pietro agreed. It was easier that way than trying to explain how their twin bonding had worked before the Age of Miracles began. Afterward, their twin bonding had become even more intense. Probably because of Wanda's magic.
"Well, I know not of the magicks the Queen would be teaching Lady Wanda. But I know some defensive spells and how to apply certain regenerative spells to the blades. Past that, I've no skill at all in those arts."
"I'm glad you have skill in the magic spells you do have," Pietro replied. He liked Maeginbiorn's straightforward manner, especially after seeing the result of the endless string of spells that could toughen up weapons or the armor he forged in the smithy.
Maeginbiorn laughed. "Ah, lad, the most important lesson is the first one: learn when to drop the cause and run, or when to fight."
"Doesn't seem like a warrior culture would want to run."
"You do if you have no backup, no weapons, no armor, and still want to live another day. Even finely trained warriors sometimes need to regroup." Maeginbiorn patted Pietro's arm in a friendly way. "Call it battle tactics or strategy if you must, but it's common. Now, here's a beauty I worked on for one of the jarls. Try the balance, see if it's something you'd like at your side when you're in battle."
Testing it as he had been taught, Pietro still wasn't sure what he was even feeling. But then again, his tutors and Maeginbiorn knew best about that. "Feels good," he murmured.
"I'll keep this in mind," the armorer replied with a grin. "In the meantime, keep that. Or give it to your sister. All ladies should have some kind of weapon on their person in order to preserve their virtue and worth."
"I think she can defend her own virtue, thanks."
"There are those who may not think so. Or distrust the magic she carries." When Pietro opened his mouth to reply, Maeginbiorn merely laughed and waved off his concern. "Oh, don't worry about your sister. I'm certainly not afraid of her, and anyone with any sort of sense wouldn't be, either. She seems the good sort."
"I think so, too. Most of the time," Pietro joked. Maeginbiorn laughed along with him, and waved him out of the shop.
Pietro liked him and the other artisans of Asgard much better than most of the warriors he had to train with. Surely it would only be a little while longer, then they could all return to earth and find their way around their old lives. Or maybe not, given their powers. All in all, Asgard wasn't so bad. He might even miss it when he was gone. But Midgard was his home, and he needed to get back and help to defend it. That was the only way Pietro could see erasing the evil that Baron von Strucker had introduced into all of their lives. He refused to believe that their little group of miracle children were the only ones created.
And after reading the Baron's notes on himself and the others, Pietro wasn't going to let anyone take advantage of them ever again.
***
Wanda stood in the middle of Frigga's personal library, a translation spell active. It was odd, how she could do things like that so easily, yet some of the other baby magicks still refused to come to her without considerable effort. There were treatises on the different kinds of magic, of the spá and how to manipulate it. Is that what she was doing without really realizing it? Was she manipulating her own spá and that of others? She had piles of scrolls and books around her, and she felt as though she had sucked magic itself out of them. A fanciful notion, really, but magic seemed to stir restlessly beneath her skin. She was constantly studying and practicing, even outside of her lessons with Frigga and her handmaidens, even when the younger children wanted to play.
"I thought I would find you here again."
Turning with the scroll still in her hands, Wanda refused to feel guilty as she faced Frigga. The queen was exquisitely dressed in sea foam green and gold, the golden jewelry highlighting the elegant slope of her neck and shoulders, the hair piled up and pinned in place with jewels. She had a similar kind of dress, though instead of the muted blues and greens and golds that most of the women seemed to dress in, Wanda had gone for scarlet. Sif and Thor accented their wardrobe with it, but she decided to go all out in the color. She generally wore a scarlet underdress and cape, and a sheer overdress to let the scarlet show through. The little kids thought she looked so glamorous, and Wanda simply ignored the tittering idiots at court that tried to insult her when Frigga wasn't around. She had decided she was going to be the Scarlet Witch they called her, and that was that. So if they had a few unfortunate accidents due to her spells... Well, then they'd learn not to mess with her.
"You had said I could use your study to learn."
"Of course. I also said you had free run of my gardens and music room."
She flushed a little, caught out. "I've read in the gardens and music room, too."
Frigga's smile was kind and sincerely amused, but it wasn't amusement at her expense. "Keep up your studies like that, and you certainly will master magic in your lifetime. You may be as good as I am."
"Oh." She blinked in surprise, because she certainly hadn't thought she was that good, and it was fantastic to hear that her hard work was paying off.
"So perhaps it's time for us to sit and discuss the shape of your future studies."
As if that didn't sound ominous at all. But Wanda sat at the table with Frigga and tried to look anything but anxious. She wasn't sure if she succeeded; discussion of the future before had only been more experiments, more tests, more comments about how she had to bring glory to the Baron's vision of the world. She barely remembered her mother anymore, but knew that anything the Baron wanted had to be terrible if he had to kill her mother in order to get the twins.
"The kind of study we've been doing is focused mainly on theory and study. This is excellent for the foundations of magic, for understanding how it works. You've been able to put years of study together in such a short time. While I have much more in my library and far more that we can teach, I have concern about the practical applications of what you've learned. There really are few opportunities for that on Asgard."
"The little ones-"
"Are nowhere near the skill level you are at. There used to be more practitioners on Asgard, but most went to other realms or created their own in order to study. I know you're having a hard time with the aristocracy here," Frigga began gently.
"I can take it. They don't scare me," Wanda retorted hotly.
"But you scare them. And they hate what they fear. Should you practice your art more openly, I worry that they would seek to do actual harm."
"But you-"
"I'm the Queen. And they believe my skills are theoretical, all study. We allow the fiction because of the fears that the people have. My art is quiet, subtle, something easily dismissed by the public. You don't have the protection of status that I do, and your strengths are..." Frigga paused, obviously trying to find a neutral word.
"Flashy," Wanda supplied.
"They can be," Frigga replied with a smile. "And I care about your continued growth as a student as well as a woman. You are young yet, even if you feel yourself worldly and mature. There is so much more you can learn outside of a library."
"But I have so much to catch up on! All this potential you keep talking about... I need to figure out what to do with it, don't I?"
"Well, yes, but there are a number of practitioners I could apprentice you to, depending on what kind of magic you would like to practice."
Wanda looked at her shrewdly. "Would this have more to do with those rumors of Lorelei trying to escape the dungeons?"
Frigga sighed, her eyes shifting sideways. "There will always be rumors," she began.
"The rumors also say she only affects men. So she wouldn't affect me."
She sighed again, and met Wanda's gaze this time. "Her magic is generally dangerous. Highly destructive, completely self serving, and she has little care for the welfare of others."
"So... Too much like mine," Wanda groused.
"My dear, hers is not an influence that would help you."
Something like resentment flared in Wanda's chest, but she ruthlessly squelched it. Frigga wasn't trying to limit her learning or use it for personal gain. But it still rankled to be treated like an idiot child who couldn't decide for herself.
"Then send me down with someone you trust," Wanda asked. "I want to see what this looks like when someone goes off the rails. Like a cautionary tale."
Though Frigga seemed dubious, the reasoning itself was rather sound. "Lady Sif had helped capture her before, and arrived to help assist security measures. Perhaps she could explain the difficulties involved with Lorelei."
Wanda nodded. "Seems like a plan to me."
"And afterward," Frigga said slowly, as if she was thinking aloud, "you can accompany her on her journey back to Earth. While there, perhaps I request that you train with Loki and perhaps Doctor Strange. Their skills are different, and more likely to encourage practical application of the knowledge you've amassed thus far."
After agreeing, Wanda met with Sif for the first time. The warrior was tall, with her black hair pulled back into a severe ponytail. Her armor gleamed, and she carried her sword at her side and her shield on her arm. The flouncy red skirt was short enough to showcase her long legs and the intricate scrollwork in her botts. "I hope you don't think you need that for me," Wanda said, eyeing the sword warily.
Sif merely grinned at her after bowing to Frigga. "Just a reminder for Lorelei."
Wanda quickly got lost in the hallways of the palace. Down in the dungeons, open cells with spells and force fields kept in the worst of Asgardian criminals. At the far end, away from others, was Lorelei. Of average height, she had long dark hair that hung loosely, pale skin, dark eyes. It was difficult to picture as menacing. She wore a black and navy blue dress, with a gold collar around her throat that flared up over her mouth. Even here, there was such reticence to letting her speak, and it gave Wanda chills. Magic might have been accepted, but only certain kinds of magic, the lesser spells that could be parlor tricks or waved away as baby magic or helpful. Truly intricate magic was distrusted.
Which meant she would be distrusted.
Once the force field was taken down for Sif to enter, she produced a small golden key. Wanda finally noticed the two locks in the back of the collar, and only one of them was unlocked. The flared part of the collar fell away into Sif's outstretched palm. Lorelei worked her jaws slightly, as if they had been held tightly in place.
"So you see fit to visit me here," she began. Her expression brightened when she saw Wanda standing there, and she stood. "Oh. You bring a favored guest. I can feel the magic in her, Sif. How delightful."
"Remember your place, Lorelei," Sif hissed.
Lorelei waved a hand negligently. "Of course. I have you here to remind me. Tell me, does Thor still favor another over you?"
Sif bristled, though she otherwise ignored Lorelei. Instead, she looked to Wanda. "Here's your chance. Say what you wish."
That led Lorelei to look at Wanda sharply, taking in her red garb, clasped hands and reticence to come any closer. "Do you fear me?" she asked, lip curling in amusement. "Or did you wish for me to teach you the ways of controlling men?"
Wanda laughed derisively at that one. "Oh, come on. Controlling men is easy. Flash them boob and leg and they'll drool. Why didn't you ever do anything useful with your magic?"
Now it was Lorelei that bristled and snarled in Allspeak. The translation spell from earlier was still active, so Wanda understood it all. "You ignorant worm! Mine is a long and distinguished line! I have skills of such you could never dare to dream!"
Crossing her arms beneath her breasts, Wanda stared at Lorelei, unamused. "I don't know. I can dream a whole helluva lot."
Lorelei again seemed thrown by Wanda's response. Sif looked at her in respect, and Wanda found she valued Sif's opinion, even if she hadn't even met her before. Maybe because Frigga held her in such high regard, and she was close friends with the royal family. Maybe because her warrior status set her apart on Asgard, just as Wanda would be set apart on Earth, just as her own favored skills set her apart here.
"I suppose I thought you would be impressive," Wanda said, head tilted to the side as she looked at Lorelei critically. She didn't have that sense of magic the way Lorelei and Frigga seemed to, but maybe that was something that could be cultivated in time. "I suppose I thought I would see what someone scary looks like."
"Do I frighten you?" Lorelei laughed. "Do I give you nightmares, little one?"
Wanda hated the grating sound of her laughter. She vaguely remembered similar laughter as a child, before her mother died - was killed-by people who thought they were better than the Roma. She remembered once being afraid of them, of being singled out, of the condescending words and hateful stares, of the helpless way her mother told her to avoid them. "My nightmares are worse than you are. You don't have anything to teach me."
"Teach you?" Lorelei spat, lips curled in disgust. "You're an infant playing with baby magic. You have no comprehension of the majesty of-"
Wanda lifted a hand as Lorelei spoke, fingers making a stroking motion as her red colored magic shot across the space between them. It grasped the collar piece from Sif's hand and shoved it back into place over Lorelei's mouth. "It wasn't for fear of her doing magic. It's because she's a self important twat that can't fucking shut up."
Sif laughed outright and fitted the key back into the lock. When Lorelei raised her hands as if she would touch Sif, she dropped her right hand to her sword hilt. Getting the message, Lorelei lapsed back into quiescence and let the collar be fitted back into place, and watched with resentment when the force field fell back into place.
"Watch her," Wanda murmured to Sif as they walked down the hallway toward the dungeon entrance. "She's got nothing to do in there other than sit and stew. If she gets out, I'm sure she'll burn this place to the ground."
"You're not wrong," Sif admitted as they walked.
"Which is why I'm telling you. The guards would listen to you."
"Perhaps," Sif said quietly. "There are many things on their minds."
"Though it probably would have been easier to just kill her if she's that dangerous."
"But then are we better than she is? Are we the enlightened ones we think we are?" Sif asked in return, letting her out of the dungeon.
"Other criminals are hanged here."
"For murder," Sif pointed out. "It's one of the worst crimes in our realm. Most everything else can be rehabilitated."
"Solitary confinement's cruel. It won't rehabilitate anyone."
Sif took a long and careful look at Wanda before making a right turn in the hallways. "I think you are far more skilled than you thought," Sif remarked. "The guards here are not interested in interacting with the prisoners. Time to reflect on crimes is felt to be useful here."
Wanda snorted. "Sure. To figure out what went wrong so you can do it better next time."
Startled, Sif seemed to mull that over as she led Wanda to her quarters. They were to pack up belongings for the move, but it was interrupted many times by the other children flitting in and out her room to show her their spells or talk about how the gardens had looked. They weren't concerned by Wanda packing up to go, especially once she reassured them she would return to check up on them. It had been her role while they were in the Baron's clutches.
Sif looked at her kindly when Wanda seemed almost lost and bereft after the last little boy left the room, all smiles and confidence that he would have far more interesting spells to show her once she returned. "You are not necessarily as old as we are, but it seems you have absorbed some of our Queen's wisdom."
Wanda thought about that, as well as her feeling that she could alter the spá in herself and others. "Maybe I did."
"Let us wish her goodbye before we return via the observatory. Travel by the Bifrost is rather dramatic and impressive. Time seems to have progressed here farther than it had on Midgard. I wish to see my brother for a time."
It was easy to say yes to that. Frigga was as gracious as ever, and the Observatory was indeed impressive. Wanda politely ignored Sif and Heimdall talking, and thought of the spá and how it was so easily shaped and reshaped. Looking down at her hands, she could see a soft red glow shimmering beneath her skin, as if her magic was just waiting to be tapped.
She was actually looking forward to Earth again.
***
Loki may not have liked the thought of being saddled with an apprentice, especially at Sif's order, but hearing that Doctor Strange would be Frigga's other choice? Insulting. That simply couldn't be borne.
Wanda didn't seem overly enthusiastic to be a pupil, and it was likely because they had filled her head full of nonsense and dire warnings about his evil ways.
Pulling together an illusion spell, Loki stood in the center of a group of robots, his arms crossed and his glower at Wanda in full force. It did seem to impress her a bit. "You think illusions are weak, don't you?" he snarled at her.
"Well, it's not as if illusions can do much good..."
"Then you clearly don't have imagination enough for the task."
That made her bristle. "I can do anything you can do!"
"Oh?" The robots advanced toward Wanda. "Then prove it."
"What the hell kind of fucked up training is this?"
"Frigga says you studied endlessly. Prove it."
Wanda shrieked as one of the robots grasped her arm tightly. "How the hell are you doing that with an illusion spell?!"
Loki couldn't help but laugh at her terror. The robots all winked out of existence, leaving her cowering and looking about to cry. "So. Still think there's nothing for me to teach you?"
She gave him a sour look. "You are an awful creature."
"Did anyone suggest I wouldn't be?"
"Well, no..." Wanda straightened. "Okay, maybe there's something to this seidr thing after all," she admitted.
He gave her the manic grin with sharp teeth that gave everyone pause. Wanda was no different, though she hid her fear fairly well. If anything it might be a delightful challenge to learn where her buttons were and try to push them. "Excellent. Let's begin."
The End