They are frightened of the storm. Can the sounds be cloaked? There must be some spell, surely.
[ As to the rest: ] Drogon and I were made to fly into space, our crew unfamiliar. I did not wish to go, but there was no time for farewells.
[ There is only so much she can gauge from reading: Did he think she had disappeared back to her world? Reassigned, perhaps, like some servant to a new household? Has he missed her, or should she expect godly capriciousness? ]
They seem sensitive to any environmental oddities, unfortunately. As such, I've had to teach Ahad how to make a fire instead of casting spellwork, you'd think that he'd never gone camping before. ;)
[ reassignment. the same thing that had happened to Thor. his relief is torn between the faintest hope that his brother will be back and a sudden sourness directed toward ALASTAIR. ]
You came back. That's always good. Did you like space? I take it the stars were a disappointment.
[ She shouldn't smile at that, truly, but the idea of Ahad being bad at something is queerly comforting. At least she isn't the only someone in the world with great power who also fumbles at weaving grass hats, so to speak. ]
He will learn. Quickly, too, I do no doubt.
[ She is relieved to have been returned. It is not her home, but she has begun to care for the people. A trap, but a sweet trap. ]
I seem sour, I know. There were wonders beyond count. Elaborate ships of metal that flew and harvested stone in the sky. And the people, I had never seen such forms ... but it was mediation they sought, not guests. [ She allows herself a sigh, but only because no one can hear it. ] It was queen's work, and I must be the stuff of queens.
[ The words seem unsatisfactory to her when she reads them. If he truly understands her, he will know precisely why. ]
[ saying "you came back; that's always good" feels odd to say, since he's usually the one running away. ]
Space does have its charms, though better for pleasure than for business. Some of those interplanetary beings can get- ah, well- aggressive, perhaps if you float in the wrong direction. How did the queen's work go from the queenbox? Did they take to the negotiations?
[ She hesitates. ] Compromise is a bitter wine, I have learned. In my world, I found I could not hope to please either side. It was easier to persuade them to despise us more than they despised each other.
[ this is fine.JPG ]
If the skirmishes were allowed to continue, some new power might have derived from the carnage. Some unmitigated threat to span all of their galaxy, if ALASTAIR can be believed. [ So, you know, there was no pressure. ]
[ perhaps it's just Loki that likes the politics of it all. he's a game player where Dany isn't quite the same. it's part of the reason why he likes her. ]
If ALASTAIR can be believed, aye. Or that little program of theirs, anyway. It was a mission to stop space fascism using politics- quite a feat.
[ She excels at razing her enemies to the ground, avenging the wronged, and finding weaknesses. The necessary medium between merciful and ruthless comes far less naturally. She is too much of one, then the other.
But now, she is hiding from the winds with a dragon tail curled around her neck, and she doesn't want to think about that. She doesn't fear the roar or the debris, but she feels so very small. Drogon warms her shoulders, his smaller body pressed tightly to hers. ]
[ there are few situations that leave Loki at a loss. he always knows what to do, what to say, even if it might not be the right thing; there's always a distinct direction in the catalytic way that he impacts anything he touches.
he's not unlike a force of nature.
but there are still things that leave thousands of years of memories at a loss, scrambling in vulnerability to find something to hang on to. moments when people cared for him when the staunch reminders of his days at an outcast left him without words.
there's a moment where he stares at it, and he feels like he's fallen into some glorious trap. ]
Like I'd let them. I'd come find you. I'm no slouch when it comes to spellwork, after all. Do you think they'd dye my hands red again? :)
[ There is an ache in her breast, and then in an instant, her heart is lighter, her fingers stilling where they have been petting Drogon's tail. She has missed being cared for; though it has only been some months, it has seemed long enough that she has nearly forgotten how it felt. ]
If you are no slouch, why haven't you found me now?
[ there's a swell of his chest as he sighs and loses. Daenerys 1, Loki 0.
Bacon has to be handed off to Ahad, and the bubble baby reaches its stubby little hands toward him again. while Loki would, perhaps, take it with him, it's been proven more than once that neither Bacon nor Eggs are terribly fond of teleportation. with a quiet shush, Loki tells it that he'll be back shortly.
the sorcery is the easy part. by now he knows Daenerys well enough to find her signature, trace it, and work out the details in less than a few minutes. bright green tendrils lick around his fingers, and with a low mutter of a word in an old tongue, he flickers out of sight in the cave (leaving Bacon distressed).
when he appears there's always a moment of distortion. the fabric of reality ripples and has to adjust accordingly. the tendrils curl around his fingers and around his elbow. the harsh winds blowing his hair and his jacket and every which direction, but with Loki's weight, he's well anchored. ]
Oh, yuck. It's a little windy out here, hm?
[ he has to shield the side of his face from the storm, keeping the sand from his eyes. ]
Dany rests with her back against a tree trunk, silver hair tousled and windblown, the storm having brought some measure of flush to her cheeks. Viserys once told her she slouched too much, but this time, her shoulders are hunched forward, her head ducked for a reason other than wishing to vanish. She is cradling something to her breast, protecting a child of her own, one that will not vanish upon their mission's end.
Drogon hisses his displeasure in her arms, sensing the change in the air well before she does. He had been returned to his smaller size for ease of transportation, and Dany can only pray he will grow again. As of now, the winds are too strong for him, and his tail is anchored about her slender neck like an ornamental torque.
She glances up in time to see the air part for Loki, little threads falling about his tall, slender frame. Despite the hair whipping about her face, the shadows flee her, and she is so pleased that she nearly makes the decision to run the short distance to him. Only Drogon in her arms stops her. I have missed you, she thinks to say. ]
I will blow away! [ she laughs over the roar of the winds, her disheveled appearance queerly fitting. Stormborn, indeed. ]
[ he's like something out of place with his hair and jacket blowing, but the sorcery alight and creeping up his arms like living snakes, unaffected by the clamor of debris and sand around them. there's no movement to dismiss his magic, as there's far too great of a need for it here. ]
You're light enough to. You don't plan on staying here, do you?
[ he counters, heading toward her at a swagger that's nothing less than him being a dramatic show-off.
the tree certainly isn't a good spot for a queen, and less so a dragon. the gap closes between them, and he leans in to offer her a hand. the other is used to hold up his jacket, shielding them both from the wall of sand. ]
[ Somehow, the prospect doesn't seem to frighten her, though she's knelt to anchor herself to the ground as best as she's able. Dany reaches for him, and Drogon chooses that moment to flutter his wings, relieved to have the room to stretch. She withdraws her hand again for a moment to steady him, chiding: ] Oh, stop that! [ Anyone watching might think she were scolding a child in the middle of some market, not a dragon in the middle of a deadly storm.
Loki's hand is caught on the second try, Drogon's small body pinned flush against her own with one arm. His tail comes undone from her neck, lashing in the wind like a whip, and Dany grasps Loki's long fingers tightly to draw herself up as the dragon screeches warnings in her ear. There is sand in her hair and in her mouth, though now at least she needn't squint or shield her eyes. ]
[ Drogon stretches his wings, and Loki's lips curl into a wicked little smile. a finger taps his nose, only once, to both show that he's unafraid, and that he's demanding his attention for a moment. teleportation takes some attention, and he'd best not take Drogon unaware. a hand lays over Dany's where she holds Drogon to herself, his pinky leaning out to touch the hot scales. he needs some contact to conduct the spell, however brief it is.
there's a mutter beneath his breath, an old language caught on the wind, and reality calls to attention and splits around them. they're no longer in the hot winds of the storm, being pelted by tiny grains of sand, but in the hollow of a cave, filled with humidity while the echoes of the storm howl outside. ]
Much better.
[ suddenly everything seems a lot louder now that they're free of the noise, the changes in environment hitting on charged senses. ]
[ It takes her a few moments to adjust to their new surroundings, the heavier way the air sits upon her shoulders, the cooler touch on her face. Not so long ago, they had shared a cave together, she and Drogon, far away from everyone else upon the Dothraki Sea. Dragonstone, Dany had called it, but it was his seat, not hers.
She's reminded of how they used to play when he bites her hand with sharp, pointed teeth: enough to indicate he wishes to be let go, but not hard enough to break the skin. ]
Then leave me, [ she sighs in permission, unclasping her arm from her breast. In a flutter of wings, the dragon flaps to her shoulder for a launching point, then sails deeper into the depths of the cave, leaving the winds far behind.
Dany turns back with a faint smile, studying her friend for a minute. She waits long enough to brush sand out of her face, and then she rises onto her toes and throws her arms around him, kissing his cheek in thanks. ] I have missed you, [ she tells him at last, all warmth and windblown affection. ]
[ Drogon goes, and Loki watches with a sudden curiosity (or envy in a way, perhaps).
his eyes hardly draw from the flap of dark wings and back to Daenerys when he feels the weight of her arms around his shoulders. a hand goes to support her, leaning down where she leans up. there's a scratchy, sandy kiss against his cheeks and he tosses his head as if there's dirty to be thrown from it. ]
Ah, yes ... you were ... absent for quite some time.
[ as if the words were sinking in with the feeling, his grasp tightens a little, borderline desperate. ]
[ She feels the grasp, but so too does she notice the rest: the way he tosses his head, the way he struggles to find words that would have come so easily to anyone else. Against his shoulder, her smile fades, and she feels uncertain. Something is wrong.
She gives him a squeeze back--as much as she can squeeze a god of such density--and then she gently disentangles herself from his arms, feeling queer. She had not misjudged that he'd missed her, she knows that, and the way his arms tighten prove that, but ... perhaps he is not as free with his affection as she is. I have overstepped.
She is back in her court, smoothing over some graceless fumble that has been brought before her throne. ]
You do not care for appropriate. [ A moderate tease, and then she presses her lips together, the warmth falling behind something else as she turns from him to shake the sand out from her uniform onto the floor of the cave. There is a seamless sort of way she pretends as though nothing has happened, but it comes at the cost of some of her warmth as she assesses where the misstep had fallen. ] Your squidge, [ she ventures, ] have you given it a name?
[ Surely that answer, at least, is well within his comfort to give. ]
[ while he'd done a lot of things in a prior life, some shows of affection weren't one of them. Odin had always been cut off, and Loki was never with many friends. in the end, he had cast everyone away and started again. it was an odd, lonely thing.
he had lost his brother to the bowels of the ALASTAIR mission void, along with Verity (who he reasoned that it would be for the best). here, Dany had returned, and he wonders if the full extent of it has hit him yet. while she adjusts herself his fingers linger, never entirely backing away, as if to make sure that they can't take her off again. his fingers remain just below her ribs. ]
No, I rather dislike the whole idea of appropriate. [ he counters with a thin little smile and a cant of his head. ] The squidge is known as Bacon. [ he says, you know, like it's something you'd totally name a child. ] After the one of the mortals most glorious meal: breakfast.
[ She's just seized a handful of hair to impatiently shake loose the grime that has settled there--idly, she thinks of her handmaids, and wonders whether Irri and Jhiqui are seeking her on the Dothraki Sea now--when he tells her the name.
The job half-finished, her fingers pause in silver-gold tresses, the other hand unconsciously settling itself over the touch near her waist. ]
That is a terrible name, [ she chides him, her face aghast, though there is something in her eyes that hints she may laugh. ]
[ Loki gives her a mock exaggeration of an offended expression that screams excuse me. absently, he takes a few locks of hair to help her. it felt a little more natural than standard awkward fare. ]
It's a name for a fantastic variation in morning menu, how can it be terrible? Bacon is delicious.
[ it falls off his tongue like it's almost convincing, at least, he's seemed to convince himself of it. ]
Ahad's squidge has kept it company, I've called that one Eggs. Together? Well, great things happen.
[ he looks rather pleased with himself, like a cat that's knocked the cream from the counter. ]
[ The combination is so horrible, so horrendously unfair and irreverent, that Dany allows herself a giggle. The sound is strangely magnified in their confined space, and from the depths of the cave, Drogon hisses in reply. ]
No one should task you with naming their false children, [ she scolds. ] You offer them no dignity. What pride could they hope to find?
[ Her hair is quickly growing voluminous, and she stills his wrist with her fingers. ] Enough, [ she says, gentle but firm. He still seems anxious, uncertain. ] Tell me of the rest. What other troubles have you caused? Am I to believe names are the end of it?
I beg to differ. [ he quite likes those names, ok. breakfast is very dear to his heart.
the gesture seems easy enough, and he listens better with touch than the vocal cue. his fingers still and open, letting the hair fall like a veil. ]
Aside from a little dip in an icy lake? [ something in his expression falls a little softer. it looks odd on a face that's either brimming with levity or defiance, as if it were made for scheming. ] Well, you know how many different worlds come together here? [ a shrug. ] Some are bound to be similar. That said, some from a world not so different from mine own appeared.
They're not those I know, but they are. Their essence is the same. Three of them.
[ They are not friends, these three; elsewise, he might seem happier about their arrival.
She doesn't refute the notion of similar worlds, nor does she look particularly surprised beyond a slight cant of her head and a raise of silver brows; she has lingered here long enough that it is scarcely the strangest notion she's heard. Another queer truth. ]
And you are foes in their world, is that the way of it? [ she prompts, temporarily leaving him for the wall. There are no thrones or silken pillows here, and any perch she might choose would be uncomfortable. She resigns herself to that and sinks down to the floor of the cave all the same, patting the place before her in invitation. She is disheveled, but there is still something undeniably queenly about her. ] Tell me their names.
[ not friends, no, but it's complicated. very complicated, probably more so than he'd wish to admit. the story of Loki and the Avengers had its consequences, more than he knew at the time, and far more than he'd forgive himself for. ]
Kinda. [ it feels strange to admit. ] Not so much anymore. [ he was the reason they had formed the Avengers at all. ] But it's different in other places. There are other shadows, other Lokis, and not many who've embraced finding ways to be better.
[ she beckons, and he comes without complaint. the jacket ripples in leather, jingling with the sound of useless buckles as he lowers beside her. an arm spreads over a knee, and he looks across the cave as if those he speaks of may be there with them. ]
Tony Stark, who calls himself Iron Man; Steve Rogers, the fallen and noble Captain America; and Natasha Romanov, who calls herself Black Widow. With my brother, and a few choice others, they call themselves the Avengers. They protect the realm on their own accord, from whatever may threaten it.
[ Better the Avengers than the Golden Company. She knows of one of them, at least; she doesn't trouble to hide her recognition. ]
I have already met your Widow, [ she tells him. Natasha had not introduced herself as anything other than Natasha, but the connection is simple to make. Dany had suspected some of the nature of the Black Widow's work within the first minutes of their meeting, but she could not have hoped to place it all. ] She seemed more capable of spywork than all my court put together thrice over, I fear. The men are only names to me.
[ It is good that Natasha is not of her world, and not in the employ of her enemies. Dany has only two options for foes as dangerous as Natasha: sway them to her side, or have them slain. ]
Then you and your brother are at odds, in their world? Or were? [ She turns curious violet eyes onto him, her hands folding into her lap. ] You spoke with them, did you not?
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They are frightened of the storm. Can the sounds be cloaked? There must be some spell, surely.
[ As to the rest: ] Drogon and I were made to fly into space, our crew unfamiliar. I did not wish to go, but there was no time for farewells.
[ There is only so much she can gauge from reading: Did he think she had disappeared back to her world? Reassigned, perhaps, like some servant to a new household? Has he missed her, or should she expect godly capriciousness? ]
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They seem sensitive to any environmental oddities, unfortunately. As such, I've had to teach Ahad how to make a fire instead of casting spellwork, you'd think that he'd never gone camping before. ;)
[ reassignment. the same thing that had happened to Thor. his relief is torn between the faintest hope that his brother will be back and a sudden sourness directed toward ALASTAIR. ]
You came back. That's always good.
Did you like space? I take it the stars were a disappointment.
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He will learn. Quickly, too, I do no doubt.
[ She is relieved to have been returned. It is not her home, but she has begun to care for the people. A trap, but a sweet trap. ]
I seem sour, I know. There were wonders beyond count. Elaborate ships of metal that flew and harvested stone in the sky. And the people, I had never seen such forms ... but it was mediation they sought, not guests. [ She allows herself a sigh, but only because no one can hear it. ] It was queen's work, and I must be the stuff of queens.
[ The words seem unsatisfactory to her when she reads them. If he truly understands her, he will know precisely why. ]
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Space does have its charms, though better for pleasure than for business. Some of those interplanetary beings can get- ah, well- aggressive, perhaps if you float in the wrong direction.
How did the queen's work go from the queenbox? Did they take to the negotiations?
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[ this is fine.JPG ]
If the skirmishes were allowed to continue, some new power might have derived from the carnage. Some unmitigated threat to span all of their galaxy, if ALASTAIR can be believed. [ So, you know, there was no pressure. ]
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If ALASTAIR can be believed, aye. Or that little program of theirs, anyway.
It was a mission to stop space fascism using politics- quite a feat.
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But now, she is hiding from the winds with a dragon tail curled around her neck, and she doesn't want to think about that. She doesn't fear the roar or the debris, but she feels so very small. Drogon warms her shoulders, his smaller body pressed tightly to hers. ]
I feared I could not come back. I feared ...
[ No, it doesn't matter. She's back now. ]
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he's not unlike a force of nature.
but there are still things that leave thousands of years of memories at a loss, scrambling in vulnerability to find something to hang on to. moments when people cared for him when the staunch reminders of his days at an outcast left him without words.
there's a moment where he stares at it, and he feels like he's fallen into some glorious trap. ]
Like I'd let them. I'd come find you. I'm no slouch when it comes to spellwork, after all.
Do you think they'd dye my hands red again? :)
[ then he wonders if Thor misses him. ]
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If you are no slouch, why haven't you found me now?
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Bacon has to be handed off to Ahad, and the bubble baby reaches its stubby little hands toward him again. while Loki would, perhaps, take it with him, it's been proven more than once that neither Bacon nor Eggs are terribly fond of teleportation. with a quiet shush, Loki tells it that he'll be back shortly.
the sorcery is the easy part. by now he knows Daenerys well enough to find her signature, trace it, and work out the details in less than a few minutes. bright green tendrils lick around his fingers, and with a low mutter of a word in an old tongue, he flickers out of sight in the cave (leaving Bacon distressed).
when he appears there's always a moment of distortion. the fabric of reality ripples and has to adjust accordingly. the tendrils curl around his fingers and around his elbow. the harsh winds blowing his hair and his jacket and every which direction, but with Loki's weight, he's well anchored. ]
Oh, yuck. It's a little windy out here, hm?
[ he has to shield the side of his face from the storm, keeping the sand from his eyes. ]
Hello!
[ see? not a slouch. ]
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Dany rests with her back against a tree trunk, silver hair tousled and windblown, the storm having brought some measure of flush to her cheeks. Viserys once told her she slouched too much, but this time, her shoulders are hunched forward, her head ducked for a reason other than wishing to vanish. She is cradling something to her breast, protecting a child of her own, one that will not vanish upon their mission's end.
Drogon hisses his displeasure in her arms, sensing the change in the air well before she does. He had been returned to his smaller size for ease of transportation, and Dany can only pray he will grow again. As of now, the winds are too strong for him, and his tail is anchored about her slender neck like an ornamental torque.
She glances up in time to see the air part for Loki, little threads falling about his tall, slender frame. Despite the hair whipping about her face, the shadows flee her, and she is so pleased that she nearly makes the decision to run the short distance to him. Only Drogon in her arms stops her. I have missed you, she thinks to say. ]
I will blow away! [ she laughs over the roar of the winds, her disheveled appearance queerly fitting. Stormborn, indeed. ]
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You're light enough to. You don't plan on staying here, do you?
[ he counters, heading toward her at a swagger that's nothing less than him being a dramatic show-off.
the tree certainly isn't a good spot for a queen, and less so a dragon. the gap closes between them, and he leans in to offer her a hand. the other is used to hold up his jacket, shielding them both from the wall of sand. ]
I have a better spot in mind.
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Loki's hand is caught on the second try, Drogon's small body pinned flush against her own with one arm. His tail comes undone from her neck, lashing in the wind like a whip, and Dany grasps Loki's long fingers tightly to draw herself up as the dragon screeches warnings in her ear. There is sand in her hair and in her mouth, though now at least she needn't squint or shield her eyes. ]
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there's a mutter beneath his breath, an old language caught on the wind, and reality calls to attention and splits around them. they're no longer in the hot winds of the storm, being pelted by tiny grains of sand, but in the hollow of a cave, filled with humidity while the echoes of the storm howl outside. ]
Much better.
[ suddenly everything seems a lot louder now that they're free of the noise, the changes in environment hitting on charged senses. ]
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She's reminded of how they used to play when he bites her hand with sharp, pointed teeth: enough to indicate he wishes to be let go, but not hard enough to break the skin. ]
Then leave me, [ she sighs in permission, unclasping her arm from her breast. In a flutter of wings, the dragon flaps to her shoulder for a launching point, then sails deeper into the depths of the cave, leaving the winds far behind.
Dany turns back with a faint smile, studying her friend for a minute. She waits long enough to brush sand out of her face, and then she rises onto her toes and throws her arms around him, kissing his cheek in thanks. ] I have missed you, [ she tells him at last, all warmth and windblown affection. ]
no subject
his eyes hardly draw from the flap of dark wings and back to Daenerys when he feels the weight of her arms around his shoulders. a hand goes to support her, leaning down where she leans up. there's a scratchy, sandy kiss against his cheeks and he tosses his head as if there's dirty to be thrown from it. ]
Ah, yes ... you were ... absent for quite some time.
[ as if the words were sinking in with the feeling, his grasp tightens a little, borderline desperate. ]
A "welcome back" is appropriate.
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She gives him a squeeze back--as much as she can squeeze a god of such density--and then she gently disentangles herself from his arms, feeling queer. She had not misjudged that he'd missed her, she knows that, and the way his arms tighten prove that, but ... perhaps he is not as free with his affection as she is. I have overstepped.
She is back in her court, smoothing over some graceless fumble that has been brought before her throne. ]
You do not care for appropriate. [ A moderate tease, and then she presses her lips together, the warmth falling behind something else as she turns from him to shake the sand out from her uniform onto the floor of the cave. There is a seamless sort of way she pretends as though nothing has happened, but it comes at the cost of some of her warmth as she assesses where the misstep had fallen. ] Your squidge, [ she ventures, ] have you given it a name?
[ Surely that answer, at least, is well within his comfort to give. ]
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he had lost his brother to the bowels of the ALASTAIR mission void, along with Verity (who he reasoned that it would be for the best). here, Dany had returned, and he wonders if the full extent of it has hit him yet. while she adjusts herself his fingers linger, never entirely backing away, as if to make sure that they can't take her off again. his fingers remain just below her ribs. ]
No, I rather dislike the whole idea of appropriate. [ he counters with a thin little smile and a cant of his head. ] The squidge is known as Bacon. [ he says, you know, like it's something you'd totally name a child. ] After the one of the mortals most glorious meal: breakfast.
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The job half-finished, her fingers pause in silver-gold tresses, the other hand unconsciously settling itself over the touch near her waist. ]
That is a terrible name, [ she chides him, her face aghast, though there is something in her eyes that hints she may laugh. ]
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It's a name for a fantastic variation in morning menu, how can it be terrible? Bacon is delicious.
[ it falls off his tongue like it's almost convincing, at least, he's seemed to convince himself of it. ]
Ahad's squidge has kept it company, I've called that one Eggs. Together? Well, great things happen.
[ he looks rather pleased with himself, like a cat that's knocked the cream from the counter. ]
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No one should task you with naming their false children, [ she scolds. ] You offer them no dignity. What pride could they hope to find?
[ Her hair is quickly growing voluminous, and she stills his wrist with her fingers. ] Enough, [ she says, gentle but firm. He still seems anxious, uncertain. ] Tell me of the rest. What other troubles have you caused? Am I to believe names are the end of it?
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the gesture seems easy enough, and he listens better with touch than the vocal cue. his fingers still and open, letting the hair fall like a veil. ]
Aside from a little dip in an icy lake? [ something in his expression falls a little softer. it looks odd on a face that's either brimming with levity or defiance, as if it were made for scheming. ] Well, you know how many different worlds come together here? [ a shrug. ] Some are bound to be similar. That said, some from a world not so different from mine own appeared.
They're not those I know, but they are. Their essence is the same. Three of them.
[ and no Thor. ]
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She doesn't refute the notion of similar worlds, nor does she look particularly surprised beyond a slight cant of her head and a raise of silver brows; she has lingered here long enough that it is scarcely the strangest notion she's heard. Another queer truth. ]
And you are foes in their world, is that the way of it? [ she prompts, temporarily leaving him for the wall. There are no thrones or silken pillows here, and any perch she might choose would be uncomfortable. She resigns herself to that and sinks down to the floor of the cave all the same, patting the place before her in invitation. She is disheveled, but there is still something undeniably queenly about her. ] Tell me their names.
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Kinda. [ it feels strange to admit. ] Not so much anymore. [ he was the reason they had formed the Avengers at all. ] But it's different in other places. There are other shadows, other Lokis, and not many who've embraced finding ways to be better.
[ she beckons, and he comes without complaint. the jacket ripples in leather, jingling with the sound of useless buckles as he lowers beside her. an arm spreads over a knee, and he looks across the cave as if those he speaks of may be there with them. ]
Tony Stark, who calls himself Iron Man; Steve Rogers, the fallen and noble Captain America; and Natasha Romanov, who calls herself Black Widow. With my brother, and a few choice others, they call themselves the Avengers. They protect the realm on their own accord, from whatever may threaten it.
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I have already met your Widow, [ she tells him. Natasha had not introduced herself as anything other than Natasha, but the connection is simple to make. Dany had suspected some of the nature of the Black Widow's work within the first minutes of their meeting, but she could not have hoped to place it all. ] She seemed more capable of spywork than all my court put together thrice over, I fear. The men are only names to me.
[ It is good that Natasha is not of her world, and not in the employ of her enemies. Dany has only two options for foes as dangerous as Natasha: sway them to her side, or have them slain. ]
Then you and your brother are at odds, in their world? Or were? [ She turns curious violet eyes onto him, her hands folding into her lap. ] You spoke with them, did you not?
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