WHY DO YOU HAVE LEGOS?! TELL MEEEE

[feel like a sir MILES]

marty was a little off, and ended up bumping her shoulder into the side of the elevator opening; she grunted at the impact, but remained impassive. she took a spot as far away from her other mother as she possibly could. she had hoped for a reprieve, to ride the elevator in silence, but steve really seemed to enjoy the sound of his own voice. at least, a lot more than she did. she closed her eyes, took in a small breath, and turned to face him.

he was lecturing her, again, and it was the 'be the best you can be' speech, but the context sent her heart racing, and her cheeks flushing; she was furious. no, she was well beyond furious. up until this point, her hatred for steve had been more like shock; it left her speechless, and made it hard to think, but now it had taken a turn for the violent, and that seemed to move her mind into a sort of sobriety. unfortunately, there would be no point where she could ever take steve--not in a fair fight, and not in a dirty one. however, she knew that she had to get away immediately.

the elevator came to a stop. his back was turned to her. she very subtly untied one of her laces with her other foot. she started to follow him out, but tripped on her untied laces. she caught herself on the wall by the buttons. "i need to tie my laces." she spat, slowly moving down, but, as she used her hand to guide herself down, she read the braille on the buttons.

there it was. her motions were indiscreet, almost unnoticeable, she pushed two buttons. casually, she began to tie her shoelaces. by the time steve turned around, the doors were almost shut, and she made sure to smile at him before they did so.

*

the act caught loki by surprise, but he did not question it. without batting an eyelash he played along, and offered ripley a gentle smile. while he did not particularly enjoy holding ripley's hand, it ended up being a rather pleasant walk. they had spent most of it in silence, and that in it's self was a blessing. perhaps it was the silence that had put him in such a good mood, and cushioned him for the normal irritation he felt every time ripley opened her mouth.

instead, he offered her a quizzical stare. "sasha, unless your poor health is because of some enchantment or curse, eir will be able to help you." he was not sure why he thought otherwise, and then he remembered ripley was not particularly bright. (because norse mythology was totally common knowledge that everyone knew. totally.) "eir has not dealt with mortals in some time, but there is no doubt that she will be able to help you; she is the goddess of health, and healing." he assured someone he knew was of lesser intelligence then himself.

"here we are," he pulled his hand from ripley's, and opened the door. the two were suddenly overcome with strong odors.

[the star-lord ideal]

at first, steve had actually believed that she had a need to tie her shoe. and when the doors started closing, he looked as if something bad had just happened. however, when he caught that subtle little smile, he quickly grew angry.

his jaw was clenched and his heart started pounding. there were no words that accurately described just how angry he was. she wasn't going to make this easy, was she? she acted more like a child than anything.

he reached out desperately and tried to get his arm between the doors, and was absolutely livid when he didn't make it. the doors closed complete and the elevator started going down.

this was when being a super soldier actually came in handy. he began to bolt down the hallway, taking a turn to barge through the door before going down. he sprinted down the stairs, coming out at a lower level waiting to see if the light came on. it did, but it didn't stop. he went down another floor, hardly out of breath by the time he got there when the doors of the elevator opened. before she could have a chance to actually press more buttons, he reached in and managed to pull her out (though not in a way that would hurt her, because despite being angry, he wasn't warren ellis.)

"how much do you want to go to jail?"

- - -

the strong aromas hit her hard and she actually looked almost a little shocked and appalled by the scent. they were not the sweetest smelling things in the world, and some of the scents happened to smell absolutely rotten.

"well, do come in!" eir stated, beckoning them in. "you've brought your sick wife with you, that's very sweet, loki. frigga tells me she wishes for her fertility to be restored," she stated.

at the mention of fertility, ripley quickly looked worried and looked away, not wanting to imagine herself having to give birth to loki's kids, or, actually not wanting to actually imagine the two of them having sex in the first place. as she looked away, she saw the many jars of what looked like potions. there was disbelief at the fact that it was even more than what amora had.

"b-but you can make me better, right?" ripley finally asked quietly, looking back over to eir and stepping away from loki a bit.

she looked a little dumb as she asked.

"of course. i can heal all ailments. though it has been quite some time since i've dealt with a mortal, especially a mortal of your," she paused and gave ripley a once over, "of your poor health."

ripley looked down and away, swallowing hard.

"your human looks very sick, loki. do tell me what the problem is."

[feel like a sir MILES]

the trick had been a simple one: first, she pressed the close door button (it was a placebo, but it made her feel better) followed by a floor at random. it didn't matter which floor, this was only to fool her other mother into believing the elevator was moving, because it would force the door shut, and the electric motor to start-up. in fact, it was lucky for her that he moved so fast, because it allowed her to push the call cancellation button (if one thing could be said about shield, it was that the helicarrier design was very efficient) before the elevator had begun to descend.

the elevator doors reopened. checkmate.

marty clicked the button for two floors below (a decoy), and casually stepped out just as someone flew past to make the gap, but she did not pay him or her much attention. she needed to pick a good hiding spot, and quickly, mom would not be distracted long.

she coughed, wiped the oozing snot from her nose, and made her mind. she made her way down the hall to the left; if she remembered correctly, there should be a conference room with a small supply closet.

which left the poor woman steve had forcefully dragged out of the elevator; she looked absolutely terrified of him, "b-bu--i--w-why? i haven't done anything!"

*

if loki was disgusted, he did not show it, and instead offered eir a polite smile in greeting, "so my mother tells us." he laughed, being rather personable. sasha on the other hand did not seem so amused, but he paid her little mind. "plans of the future can be made after i see my wife healthy again." he continued, sparing both him, and sasha what would have been a round uncomfortable questions, and possible prodding.

having to actually consummate their marriage was not a pleasant thought.

he supposed it was a common reaction to seeing someone in her state, but loki still could not help but pity sasha as she looked away. she was a pathetic creature. eir was addressing him, he turned his attention away from sasha. "sasha's body has been--" loki paused mid-sentence, he was not entirely sure how to explain to eir the complexities of mortal chemistry. "--poisoned," he finally decided, "slowly poisoned over the course of years."

"what sort of poison has she been fed?" eir squinted at sasha with a critical eye before beckoning her over with a couple of snaps of her fingers so she could examine her better.

this required more of a thought on loki's part, he could not say heroin, because that would mean nothing to eir. "it is extracted from a plant," he spoke distantly, consumed by his thoughts.

"every poison is, loki, you must remember more than that."

loki furrowed his brows, and then he remembered, "opion, the poison is extracted from opion." the term was outdated, having been used by the ancient greeks, but it was unlikely eir would be familiar with any other term.

"opion? i have not dealt with such an extract in sometime, i must admit, i am not prepared for this sort of healing."

"what do you mean?"

"opion poisoning is not a common ailment in asgard, and it was not in midgard either. i never kept large quantities of the main ingredient of the poultices, and potions, and i eventually stopped all together."

"are you saying there is nothing you can do?"

"not quite, but i will need you to gather the ingredients needed, but it will not be easy."

loki was silent.

"it will require you to journey to niðavellir."

loki swore, he was not popular amongst the dwarves.

[the star-lord ideal]

marta was right, the decoy did not last for very long. however, while it might not have lasted for very long, it did take a toll on him. when he looked at the young woman he had pulled out, he looked shocked and almost appalled by his behavior. "you are not who i was expecting, my apologies," he quickly let go of the young woman and stood around for a moment to make sure she was okay. he had been a little on the scary side.

when he was sure she was fine, he took off again. he was positively livid. he had to think of where she could go. while he would not openly admit it, even in his mind, she had outsmarted him and he was impressed with this, not that he was as academically smart as she was. but her ability to con him was impressive -- it meant she could think on her toes.

he started to go up the stairs again, often times skipping two at a time. he needed to find some place open, some place that was empty. that was when it hit him. there was a conference room down the hall two floors above where they were. he slowed down and walked quickly towards it, opening the door. there was no one in the actual conference room. he squinted and glanced about, scanning very carefully. he might have missed it at first glance, but he caught it. there was a small supply closet. he approached, treading lightly, but still looking angry.

when he opened the door, there she was. he stood there, in front of the door, but did not make it look like she was trapped. however, since there was no elevator near by, and she probably couldn't outrun him, he was a super soldier after all. he was slightly out of breath, but just barely. one would not have thought he had such an extensive work out.

"if you put half as much energy into accepting yourself and your powers, and those that are around you who are both trying to help you and take care of you as you did being a rebellious punk teenager, then we could have most like had everything taken care of by now!" steve lectured, "you're acting like you're fifteen! you're an adult, you need to start acting like one or else you will land up back in jail. do you really want that?

while he didn't like her, he was still civil.

"and i do not want to see you in jail," he finished, his voice was civil, instead of short and irritated. "i don't want to see any members of the avengers in jail. like it or not, ms. iltchenko-koneva, you are a part of a team."

- - -

"i know you're not well liked there, loki. and your cursing is well deserved," eir commented lightly in passing. "but it is only from the dwarves that you will be able to actually receive the ingredients needed for treatment of your beloved wife."

ripley could remember a bit of the story about the dwarves according to norse mythology, and so she knew that loki did not have a good relationship with the dwarves, so at first she looked confused, as if eir was simply joking with them. "uhm, are you sure that's a good idea?" ripley was not concerned for loki's well being. instead, she was concerned for her own.

"what do you mean?" eir inquired, stepping forward to give her a good look.

"i mean, it's not like he has the greatest relationship with dwarves. they might, you know, kill us," ripley explained, because she actually knew about this. it was surprising that she actually managed to remember it, at all, let alone any part of her childhood that wasn't the traumatic stuff.

eir laughed a bit, and shook her head. "while you're right, mortal, i think your husband would be most willing to sacrifice himself to make sure that he could make you healthy again. why else would he take you here in the first place?" eir inquired, making a hand motion. "and it seems he'll choose to take you with him. let us hope you survive the trip to niðavellir, the bifrost is not known for being a gentle ride."

[******** look on ripley's face was priceless.

[feel like a sir MILES]

marty had tucked herself in the right corner of the supply closet by the door; she felt safe there. she had her knees pulled close her chest, and her arms wrapped around her legs in an effort to make herself small(er). her reprieve in contented silence did not last long, she heard the conference room door open. she did not have to guess who it was. she lifted her head from her knees, and held her breath, hoping that he would glance over the supply closet, and be on his way.

no such luck.

his footsteps were light, but she could still hear them, but what really got her attention was his breathing; the pattern was off, and that suggested she had actually given him something of a run for his money, or he was just that angry. marty, assuming the latter, tensed--she expected violence. she turned her ear towards steve when he opened the door, but he made no movements toward her.

she did not relax, in fact, she wished he had physically lashed out at her, because getting beat into submission was starting to look preferable to her other mother's lectures. marty had intended to completely ignore his latest lecture, to sit in silent defiance whilst refusing to move, but his latest lecture finally tipped her over the edge, because it was filled with so much bullshit, and inaccuracies she almost had no idea what to do with herself.

so she exploded.

marty scrambled to her feet. overeager, she had forgotten she was sitting beneath shelves, and bumped her head, but it did not seem to hinder her. "who the ******** do you think you are, rogers?" she took a step towards him so that there was absolutely no gap between them, because his latest lecture had been fighting words--literally. "you have absolutely no right to lecture me, you self-righteous d**k!" she was yelling now, "because you don't have a ******** clue what you're talking about!" she moved her hand up to feel for his face as if to slap him, but this was simply another distraction, because while she did this, she attempted to knee him as hard as she could in the crotch.

he wanted her attention? well, he had it.

*

not well liked? that was a gross understatement. but, if eir said there would be no other way to retrieve the ingredients, he did not doubt it. loki was still disgruntled by the idea, but he did not have much of a choice, and this frustrated him. he had not choice but to resign himself to this quest; he closed his eyes, and heaved a sigh. "well, if there is no other way," his voice trailed as he verbally admitted to accepting eir's fetch question, however, he made no effort to cover up his reluctance on the matter.

ripley seemed even less keen on the idea, and he actually seemed a little surprised, if not confused by the fact ripley seemed to know something about--oh, what did the mortals call it? horse mythology? no, what was it? well, it mattered little--him. he did not recover, and actually looked increasingly more dumbfounded if not a little irritated. it was not because she was aware of his relations with the dwarves, or even the fact that he knew she had absolutely no regard for his well-being, and was only thinking abut her own--he could not blame her for that--it was because, for a woman who made so much fuss about being unhealthy, she was prepared to give up at the first sign of trouble.

while he was not actually willing to sacrifice himself (he knew he could easily weasel his way out of the dwarves clutches), nor did he particularly love sasha, at all, he conceded with eir: "indeed," he began, with a warning glance towards ripley, "i will do everything within my power to make sure my wife lives a long, and prosperous life in good health, which, my wife has expressed great interest in." he could not believe he had to remind her that she wanted to be healthy. besides, it would be good training. (because, apparently, loki, and fury studied at the same school to get their licences for training omega level mutants.) but loki continued before ripley could interject, "what exactly will we be looking for in niðavellir?"

"allow me to fetch my field journal--it will be of more use to you--and write down a list of ingredients." she excused herself into a back room.

[the star-lord ideal]

while he did not anticipate her outburst, he wasn't necessarily surprised at it. he waited until she was finished yelling at him before he'd even dare think about speaking -- also because he was a polite man and he would not think of interrupting someone -- even if that someone seemed to be going off on him for no reason. (had he understood the situation, he might have been even more understanding.)

and while he did not anticipate her to actually attempt to fight him (he had believed she was smarter and more rational than that, but perhaps he had thought wrong), he had an easy enough time making sure that he was not hit. he did not concern himself with the hand that she had used as a distraction and instead easily snapped down to grab her leg before it could even get anywhere near his crotch to do any damage.

he caught her by under the knee and gave her a glare. "had you decided to train, you might have landed that hit," he told her, "your little ploy back there was clever. it shows you can think on your feet. this is important." if she wasn't going to go to the training center with him, then this was going to have to count for for something. "the fact you were trying to make it look like you were about to hit me was a nice trick, but you weren't convincing enough to make it believable," he explained, looking her over, not minding that he was giving someone that hated him tips on how to be more discrete so that they could land hits on him.

"you have an advantage in that you're small. people will underestimate you," but from here on out -- he would not underestimate her, her temper and her ability to be completely irrational.

- - -

she wanted to give up because she didn't want to die. she would have rather been unhealthy than dead. one couldn't attempt to get healthy if one was actually dead. and quite frankly, the idea of trotting into the land of the dwarves with someone who had lost bets and almost had his head cut off by them was lower on her list of things to do than consummating with her new husband.

however, he gave her a stern, and frightening look and ripley sort of cowered a bit, bringing her shoulders up to her ears and sinking down into them in an attempt to hide. yeah, great interest. she swallowed hard and looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with either loki or eir.

as eir disappeared off, it took her only a few minutes before she was able to produce her field journal. she flipped through the pages, and showed him the section of ingredients needed to create the necessary mixture to cure his human wife. "you will need all of this. gathering the ingredients will be the hardest part. as one of them, and you will know which one, is incredibly important to the dwarves. you will have to make a bargain with them, loki," eir was curious as to what he would do to go about doing something like that.

she shooed them out afterwards and shut the door after them.

ripley wasn't sure she wanted to say a single word. but she did, anyways. "there's no way in hell they're going to give you something they prize," she explained, staring down at the ground in defeat and not reaching out to take his hand despite the fact that thy would be headed into public again. "you sort of ruined any chances you had of this being easy," ripley folded her arms across her chest and frowned.

"we're doomed," she concluded, following after loki as they made their way to the biforst, which eir so confidently told her 'she might survive'.

[feel like a sir MILES]

her counter strike was more of an instinctive movement than a planned one. steve grabbed her knee, and her immediate response was to take the hand that she had used to size up his face, and slap him hard across the ear, keeping a flat palm to attempt the most damage. it was only after that she began to struggle against his grip, she managed to free her leg, but it resulted in her falling backwards into the supply closet, and onto her rump. she stared forward in a blank, burning fury.

except for a cough here, and a sniffle there, she remained silent, and motionless through his latest lecture. it did not look like she was listening, but she was, despite herself, but not for the reasons steve had intended. steve felt like he was teaching her through critique, but marty did not see it as a wealth of information; she saw it as a set-up. steve was ignorant, self-righteous, and had a stick named morality so far up his a** he was constantly sprouting leaves of motivational sayings, and (supposed) good intentions, but he wasn't stupid. (he was also an authoritative figure, but that was another day's struggle worth of issues.) so, marty was incredibly suspicious that he was just giving away information on how to hit him better.

she pulled her knees back to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs, and rested her chin on the tops of her knees. there was a pause of silence after he finished before she responded, in verse, "tommy's army's off to war--not a soldier knows what for." she stopped there, and changed poets, "dulce et decorum est pro patria mori?"

at this moment, marty resembled a child more than ever sitting small on the floor, curled against herself, snot oozing down her nose (before wiping it off with her arm), and likely to hit steve over the head with a barbie if she thought it'd cause him any sort of pain, or humiliation.

*

well, at least he had gotten ripley to be quiet, that in it's self was a blessing. while he did not risk huffing a sigh of relief, loki definitely looked pleased with himself, briefly. loki did realize that sasha was acting under the threat of danger, he still found it absolutely baffling how quick she was to give up; and it was not just this instance, it seemed that almost anything that required effort, or any sort of unpleasantness on ripley's part was never worth a try, and this frustrated him, because it made a lot of things much harder than they needed to be.

loki met eir halfway, standing beside her as she flipped through various notes, drawings, and recipes; he accepted the field journal when it was passed to him, and took a moment to go over the ingredients as she spoke. he had no idea what she was talking about until he saw it himself, and he looked aghast. "this can't be," his voice trailed, he was looking up at eir in mild horror, but the look on her face explicitly stated that there would be no way around it.

this was not good, at all.

"damn," he swore again, but it was, once again, appropriate. as it was, he had nothing to offer the dwarves, at least, not enough to save his life, ripley's life, and bargain for the kassteinn. the only good news was that the rest of the ingredients would be simple to get, but, in the grand scheme of things, the news was not particularly great. he took in a deep breath, and nodded, "thank you, eir, you have been a great help."

she offered a sympathetic smile, and then tossed them out.

the walk to eir's chamber had been pleasant, and spent in silence, but apparently, requesting the same on the walk back, was too much to ask for, because ripley felt the need to add her own opinions, and loki now realized that this was never a pleasant turn of events. ever.

loki came to an abrupt halt, and turned to face sasha. to say that he seemed 'less than pleased' would have been understatement, he looked angry. he sized her up, giving her a once over, "thank you, sasha," he was being facetious, and he sounded cruel, "for telling me something i already know." he sneered with his nose scrunched, "i have just as much at stake as you do, sasha, if not more, and i am well aware of the circumstances. so, unless you have anything useful to say to our task, i ask that you keep. your. mouth. shut." he then turned on his heel, and continued down the hall. except, he did not turn to leave the palace, instead he headed back to his chambers.

he quickly ushered sasha inside, but did not shut the door. "now, we have quite a bit to do before we actually go to the realm of the dwarves." well, one of the realms of the dwarves, "and our first stop is going to be cold. very cold. you will need to put on something warmer, you may have your pick of any of my clothes--yes, i am aware they will not fit you, but they'll have to do--and you'll need a cloak," he paused, gave her a once over, and remembered she was a walking skeleton, "make that two cloaks. meet me out by the palace stables when you are done."

he had things to attend to.

he left without another word.

[the star-lord ideal]

he normally knew what to do. he normally knew how to handle situations. he had fought HYDRA and he had fought nazis and he had saved hundreds of men without batting an eyelash. he had been dropped from a plane into enemy fire and he had punched hitler over a hundred times and he was finally stumped as to what to do, all because of some ungrateful little girl that couldn't get over her authority problems. he took in a sharp breath at her fighting words of poetry. he gritted his teeth, feeling, for once, insulted. it was one thing to insult him personally, it was another thing to insult soldiers that he had fought with -- like the howling commandos.

he took in a sharp breath through his nose, and it probably wouldn't have taken extra good ears to tell that he was more than just a little irritated. he was irritated with her, with her attitude, with her persona, with her everything. he had to exhale slowly, out through his mouth. "if you have something you would like to say to me, do not dance around it. say it outright," he instructed her. it was childish to try and skirt around and subtly insult, it was on a pathetic level, like the gods of mischief.

"you had no problems in doing so before, do not cower and retreat to subtle insults now, ms. iltchenko-koneva," he reached down and took her by the arm. though it might have irritated her to learn that he was not actually extremely forceful or harsh. he was not ripping her up and jerking her arm out of its socket. "the sooner you cooperate, the sooner this is over and the sooner you can go back to sulking," with her upper arm in his hand, his fingers could almost wrap completely around her; she was a tiny little thing, he began to take off towards the exit of the conference room and towards the doors to the staircase this time.

"you outsmarted me on the elevator, so let's take the stairs this time," it might have been a mistake to let her know that she had outsmarted him, but he was actually attempting to win her over. (so that she'd be a little less crazy and more tolerable to be around, in general.) he was silent as he pushed open the door with his free hand. he made sure he was not yanking on her too hard as he pulled her through the door and began to head down the stairs. "you might want to consider not trying to be rebellious and actually walking so you don't fall down the stairs," he advised, though he may or may not have been trying to subtly insult her -- but it came off as a sincere concern.

he started down the first flight of stairs. "i realize you probably won't talk to me unless you're insulting me, subtly or outright, but you said i didn't know the whole story. why don't you enlighten me?" he seriously doubted she'd even say a word and would continue with the anti-war poetry in order to get a rise out of him -- it had worked, but he would not lash out at her. he was not that kind of a man. he would continue to irritate her by being a saint.

- - -

the man was scary, she had to admit that and she had, in fact, cowered in fear (again, like she always did). her lower lip trembled and she simply nodded a small amount before following behind him and keeping her head down. quite frankly, she hadn't gotten the picture that she was essentially too precious to actually kill, considering the amount of power she holstered (eventually, or would have might have been the more appropriate term). she stepped inside as he quickly nudged her inside and started telling her everything she would need.

her eyes were large and watery as she listened to everything he was saying; ripley was terrified beyond imagining. as much as she wanted to be healthy, she was not quite willing to put her life on the line. it was at this moment that she was contemplating what would have been worse -- heading back home to earth and facing the horrible music or getting killed by dwarves when loki (inevitably) pissed them off.

if she was so skeletal, how did he expect her body to not simply collapse under the weight of his clothes, her clothes that happened to have metal bits on it and then two cloaks. by this point, she was starting to believe she would wind up wearing her weight plus some in clothing. she had wound up picking out a long shirt or two to put over her armors. there were pants that she found, and even better she found a belt -- which was not small enough for her so she happened to tie it into a knot. if he complained about it, that would be his fault for telling her to help herself.

she nabbed what looked to be two dark cloaks before draping them each over her shoulders. she as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she raised her eyebrows. she looked like a normal size, now! it only took several shirts, a couple pairs of pants and two cloaks to do so. "real mess, real mess," she murmured under her breath before very (very, very, very) hesitantly leaving. a part of her seriously contemplated hiding out somewhere until he got back.

ripley had to ask for directions, and she received a strange look but some finger pointing and some directions helped her find her way. she reached it and stood there, looking dumb as she glanced about. if he expected her to ride a horse then he was the unintelligent one -- she could hardly keep a decent balance while walking. "uh, hello?" she stepped forward bundling up and withdrawing into her cloaks a bit as if they would provide her with some safety. "uh, loki?" a part of her feared he was going to pop out of no where and stab her in the back.

that might have actually been preferred to what was going to happen.`

[feel like a sir MILES]

marty looked pleased with herself, she had found her other mother's sore spot, and got exactly what she wanted from him--a reaction.

steve was furious, she did not need a heightened sense of hearing to see that, or any other confusing mixture of senses, and modern vernacular. however, it certainly made things a lot more satisfying; she could hear his breathing as he tried to calm himself, and she felt a small sense of victory in the fact that she had gotten him so worked up. in it's own way, it made her feel powerful.

even before steve had managed to grab a hold of her, marty instinctively became uncomfortable, and her muscles tensed. she had attempted to lock her body, and make it extremely difficult to move her, but, considering all she really had going for her was attitude, steve easily managed to get her to her feet without having to use any real force. "h-hey!" he had big hands, and a firm grip, struggling would be futile, but she did so anyways. she began to squirm, twist, pull, and tug in an attempt to free herself from him. "just because you're too much of an idiot to understand the insults doesn't make them subtle; it's not my fault you need ******** cliff notes." her voice was strained, she was still trying to wiggle away from him, "maybe if you open a ******** book sometime, you've got two eyes--use 'em--amy lowell, and wilfred owen."

they were moving now, she tried to resist, but it wasn't much good, "let me go!" she hated this, but it was better than being carried; she could still make sense of where they were going. "of course i did," she wheezed through a particularly heavy cough (it was getting worse), steve's attempt to win her over was obviously not working.

steve's comment made marta smile, and chuckle slightly, but it was not any sort of endearing; it was a smirk, and a congested, wheeze of a cough. "who's using subtle insults now? you know what you are, captain ******** america? a ******** hypocrite, that's what you are!" she completely disregarded the tone of his voice, because she knew an insult when she heard one.

she was not struggling as hard now, because she could not work up the energy to; she felt weird. she suddenly became acutely aware of how much her body ached (something her anger had dulled), and how weak, and listless she felt; she realized how much she was sweating, and how her hair was sticking to her face; but, most concerning of all, was how everything that wasn't two feet in front of her was growing dim--tunnel vision.

she could no longer support herself.

marty collapsed, tumbling down the last couple of steps, and falling onto the landing between the first flight of stairs, and the second.

*

at first, loki did not recognize ripley, and had mistaken her for another asgardian until he realized she was wearing two cloaks. he had to stop, and do a double take to realize what he was looking at, "sasha?" to say he sounded surprised would be an understatement. at first glance, she looked like a normal, healthy woman, but upon closer inspection he realized that it was simply layers of clothes, and she looked a little ridiculous. (but it would keep her sufficiently warm.) the shock waned when he realized this. "there you are, sasha," he looked a little relieved, "i was just on my way to retrieve you, i thought you would still be cowering, but you seem to have recovered." he offered ripley something of a weak smile, but continued quickly, "now, i do not want to spend anymore time on this than is absolutely necessary. we will be setting out at once on horse back."

loki had been about to walk off when he paused, and turned back to ripley, "you do know how to ride a horse, do you not?" he had asked out of vain hope, but he already knew the answer to his own question. he hefted a sigh, "right, well, you will have to ride with me then; the walk to the bifrost is tedious at best, and i do not thing you are equipped for such a strenuous venture." he did not want to spend that much time, and energy on just the means to get to their first destination, nor did he want to spend that much time in ripley's company.

"stable hand, my horse," the young boy immediately ran off to fetch loki's horse. it sure felt good to be in a position of power again, he had to admit. while his horse was getting saddled, loki took the moment to put on his own cloak. he did not need it, not really, but he needed to keep up appearances, especially if they were going to jotunheim first. the very thought gave him a headache. explaining himself to odin when he got back would be difficult, but, at this point, he had no choice.

jotunheim was his only chance to get something he could actually bargain the dwarves with, but that did not mean he was looking forward to their little adventure at all. "where we are going is very cold," he gave ripley a good, fair warning as the stable boy brought out his horse.

now he had an entirely different problem to contend with; getting sasha up on a horse.

he had to briefly ponder if she had enough upper body strength to actually pull herself up onto the horse. he decided he did not want to waste time to find out. "hold still, sasha," loki warned, taking the woman by the--incredibly bony--hips, and hoisting her up, over his head, and onto the horse. "now, swing your leg over; it'll give you more balance than sitting side saddle." that had been a little more harder than it should have been considering ripley was almost his height if not exactly, bu, considering she weighed next to nothing, and he had the strength of a god, it had been easy enough. he stepped into the stirrup, and mounted himself on the horse in front of sasha, "if you don't want to fall off, i suggest you wrap your arms around my waist."

[the star-lord ideal]

it was easy enough to ignore her words and her calling him a hypocrite. it was easy enough to ignore her, period. although to say that the words from before didn't sting would have been nothing but a dirty lie. the anti-war poetry got him, and she had gotten precisely the reaction she wanted. although it might have been a step forward -- she was speaking whole sentences to him.

however, it was fine now because she was currently passed out on the landing. steve had tried to grab her before she could slip from his grip, but he wasn't fast enough. despite the fact she had been nothing more than a defiant little bi-- a rather irritating woman, he wouldn't want her to simply fall flat on her face down a couple stairs.

he exhaled, rubbed at his head and then continued down the stairs where he managed to scoop her up with ease. he carried her, princess style of course, back up the stairs and the ten minute walk to the nearest medical wing.

"oh my-- is she--" the first nurse that saw them seemed taken aback by the fact there was an unconscious girl in his arms.

"she's fine; she's just sick, was exposed to prolong cold. and she's passed out," a gurney was brought out and marta was carted off. "marta iltchenko-koneva," he told them her name so that the nurse behind the counter could look her up. "you might want to let commander fury know when she wakes up," he added.

"yes sir," the woman behind the counter nodded.

- - -

she followed loki's directions, though found it hard to move at all in the ridiculous amount of layers she wore. however, she wound up, somehow (maybe by miracle) on the horse. when he told her she'd have to hold onto him, she looked a little grossed out by the fact. however, she took heed to his word because she did not want to fall off and break a neck.

ripley swallowed hard, trying not to stare at the ground as it started to move. she wrapped her arms around his waist, as instructed and buried her face in his cloak. she was surprisingly warm, in the many layers that she was wearing. at least, she sure hoped that she'd be warm givent he sheer number of leathers and pieces of metal she had on. "where are we going first?" she finally asked, her voice muffled by the fact that she was speaking through his cloak.

she wasn't exactly too terribly curious, she just wanted to measure just how much trouble she was going to be in.

[feel like a sir MILES]

marty was kept in the medical bay for three more days, but it was made pointedly clear it was not just for rest, and recuperation. it was a trap; it was to make sure marty stayed put, and couldn't escape whatever fury tried to throw at her, which, was a psychiatrist. (marty, in her first act of defiance against, stubbornly refused to learn his name.) the woman at the front desk had alerted fury just like she was instructed, and he came with the psychiatrist, but left without him. that left them alone, and apparently that meant the psychiatrist got to ask a lot of intrusive questions.

marty did not like that.

she spent the rest of the day stonewalling his questions with silence. the next day she lied, and gave ridiculous answers, but the psychiatrist easily saw through her bullshit. the second day, desperate to get out of another session, she pitched a fit; she bit nurses, flailed, spit, cursed, and finally had to be sedated, and restrained to her bed. she stayed restrained until her discharge, and she spent the day, once again, stonewalling his questions with silence.

the next morning, she was expected to stick to her daily schedule: breakfast; morning session with the psychiatrist; lunch; afternoon training. (they decided to move her training to the afternoon in the hopes that she'd crash early, and be less trouble.) of course, she had no intention of following it, but fury had expected as much, and had escorted her to her first, real day of therapy, and she did not fight him. she could not push boundaries like she could with her other mother.

she had planned to stay in therapy the entire time, just to keep fury off her a**, but the psychiatrist finally hit a nerve; he had asked about her sister. she stood up,

samson did not chase after her, because unlike fury he knew that forcefully dragging her back would do nothing.

she had time, as long as she found a good hiding spot she'd be able to skip out on today's training. she entered the elevator, and, thinking that she was alone, screamed as the doors shut.

"shout louder next time, surly, i don't think the rest of new york heard you."

it was clint.

*

"now, who is ready for an adventure?" he wasn't, and he knew for a fact ripley wasn't. so, he did not give her time to respond, "hold on tight, sasha," and they were off. they were off at an alarmingly high speed. this was, in part, because they were on something of a timetable, but also because it was incredibly hard to hear anything at this speed. (loki was not above being childishly petty if it gave him piece of mind.) so, he had not heard her question about where they were going.

this was probably for the best. considering ripley's knowledge on norse mythology, she probably would have let go of loki, and thought falling off a horse would be a relatively painless death in comparison to what was in store for them, which, was exactly true; loki was exceptionally good at pissing people off, and the frost giants were no exception. especially after what had happened the last time he had gone to jotunheim.

since the ride was spent in (what loki assumed was) silence, it had gone by too quickly for loki, because they were already at the bifrost. loki reigned the horse to a halt, and offered the expectant heimdall a pleasant greeting, "heimdall, always a pleasure to see you." loki was being purposefully facetious, but heimdall stayed silent.

he still did not trust loki.

loki gave a small sigh, and a bit of a nod in response to his silence before he dismounted his horse in one, graceful motion. without so much as asking ripley's permission, or even really acknowledging her, loki took her by the waist once more, and lifted her off the horse. "i see you are as welcoming as always, heimdall, what a warm reception." heimdall still wasn't buying it, but loki stayed (in a sense) pleasant, "my wife, and i have business in jotunheim." he spoke unflinchingly, because he was quite certain sasha would. "then we will be journeying to niðavellir. you see," of course he did, he saw everything, "she is very ill, and we are trying to find a cure for her."

heimdall's face was stolid, but loki could not help but feel that he was actually leering at him. however, he made his way to the bifrost.

loki beckoned sasha to follow after them.

[the star-lord ideal]

"maybe scream a bit louder to make my eardrums bleed, too," he obviously didn't take heed to the fact that she was in a piss poor mood (but she always was) or he simply didn't care that she was. it was most likely the latter given that stepping onto an elevator and screaming usually meant that someone was in a terrible mood.

he was curious as to why she was alone, seeing as just this morning he had seen nick fury escorting her around everywhere.

nick fury looked to samson, but said nothing. it was rather obvious that he had hit a (very) sore spot in her life. he had called captain america up, who had come running when beckoned, very much unlike a cat. he told him that the therapy had very obviously not gone well, but that training was supposed to continue as planned and that he had heard her step onto the elevator several minutes ago.

so, it was time for steve to play search and rescue again. although less rescue and more search and drag away. he would not bring up the topic of the therapy when he found her.

"have you ever thought about being, actually, pleasant for once?" clint asked as the elevator continued. "because then maybe people would stop trying to babysit you," he shrugged a shoulder, "just a suggestion that you probably won't listen to."

from what steve had gathered, she enjoyed small spots.

the elevator doors opened.

and they seemed to luck out, "oh, steve, look who's here."

steve glanced over and raised his eyebrows when he saw that it was, in fact, marta.

- - -

heimdal did not move, and he did not even turn to look down at loki's pitiful wife. however, this did not stop ripley from looking up and staring at heimdal as loki mentioned jotunheim. was he serious? he couldn't have been serious. ripley blinked a few times and stared at loki who was beckoning for her to follow.

she wasn't sure she wanted to.

she was also fairly sure that if she opened her mouth something along the lines of 'help me' would have come out. but she followed, very reluctantly.

"...you never said we were going there," ripley whined, stepping in and looking about -- it was absolutely amazing and like nothing she had ever seen before. heimdal did not walk in -- if they wanted to go to jotunheim, they would have to open the gate themselves. loki had done it before, and he would do it again, heimdal knew this.

"you're going to get us both killed," she folded her arms across her chest, but this did not seem to stop loki because before long the gates were open and ripley was hurtling through space until suddenly everything stopped.

she staggered forward in snow and ice a bit.

"oh, ********."

[feel like a sir MILES]

saying marty 'looked pissed' would be like saying marty 'had a face'--it meant nothing. instead, it would be better to say that marty looked downright murderous. fortunately for hawkeye, she was not looking at him. she kept her (dead) gaze front, and center. even then, it's not like she could take clint in a fight, especially since she seemed keen on not using her powers ever since the last mission.

it was a nice thought though.

"have you ever thought about being, actually, less of a c**k sucking idiot for once?" marta mimicked with a sneer, utilizing her ability to do eerily spot-on impression of speech patterns. "just a suggestion you probably won't listen to." she hit the nail in the coffin, but her victory--to her, at least--was short-lived; she could see captain mom's color as the elevator descended.

speaking of cocksuckers.

marty sucked in a deep breath, and held it before the elevator doors opened. when they did, her response was almost immediate: "shove off, mom, training isn't till later." she didn't brush past captain america, because that would just make her easier to grab, instead she went out of her way to try and walk around him.

clint seemed befuddled by the fact marty seemed to know who was waiting before he had said something.

*

ripley was nagging him, and loki was doing his absolute best to not pay attention, because this whole situation was hard enough without ripley whining like a child. was he excited for the task at hand? absolutely not, but he felt like telling her he was just to spite her. in fact, he did just that: "possibly, yes," he began, conceding to her worries about being killed, "though, now that i have had time to think on it, it could be rather fun."

and then he flung them into an inter-dimensional portal.

loki landed gracefully, standing tall in the snow. the cold seemed to have no, or very little affect on him. "well, are you not glad you wore something warm?" he offered her one last small (but smug) smile. "now, we do not have much time. the goal is to go as unnoticed as possible; be prepared for a lot of walking." he was purposefully sugarcoating it, because they had a mountain to climb.

oh joy, he could already hear her whining.

if anything was going to build strength--of several types--it would be this, however, considering the fact he needed her very much alive he paused before he started his trudge in the snow, "if you need to take a break, do not hesitate to ask." though, he knew that she wouldn't. still, what was that mortal saying? more insects with honey? "now, the fun begins."

[the star-lord ideal]

"yeah, nice talk, surly!" clint called after her sarcastically, hardly put off by the fact that he had just been called a c**k sucking idiot. if it was by someone like carol danvers or captain america, he might have minded, but considering surly was someone that was always mean and nasty, he didn't seem to care too much.

"clint, please, you're not helping," steve mused to clint as marta walked off the lift. steve was confused as well as to how she knew it was him, but he didn't press it.

steve sighed as marty walked out in a huff. he wasn't going to grab her regardless, because she was right. training was not until later. she clearly got out of her therapy session early, and he doubted it was by nick fury's wish.

"you're right. it isn't until later. but, we could start now and be done earlier," steve suggested. "the sooner we begin, the sooner you'll be able to not have to deal with me," he knew that she did not like him (he knew that she did not like anyone, for that matter) and so he had figured that he might be able to utilize this to his advantage, potentially. though, he sort of doubted it seeing as she seemed to be defiant for no good reason.

he was not going to ask about the session that she had because it was none of his business.

- - -

it was sad and pathetic, but she was already exhausted. however, it made sense seeing as she couldn't do much physical activity of any sort without getting tired in the first few minutes. "right, fun," she murmured under her breath, knowing that he was being facetious because it did not gtake a genius to figure that out. no one wanted to visit the frost giants because they were terrible, terrible beings.

she exhaled and watched her breath turn smokey as she did so. it was beyond cold. "yes, and, well," she paused and stared down at her feet as she followed closely in loki's footsteps (literally, she was walking where he had so that she didn't have to trudge through deep snow or ice), "thank you for letting me borrow your clothes."

thank yous from ripley were incredibly rare, however this one was well deserved. despite the fact that he wanted her alive for selfish reasons, he very well could have let her freeze to death.

"what happens if we get caught?" she asked, because it was a legitimate concern. "we can't just fight off an entire gang of ice giants," she kept her head turned down the entire time, her eyes squinted to protect them from the harsh cold.while she was not particularly warm, she was much warmer than she would have been without the layers upon layers of clothes.

[feel like a sir MILES]

"choke on d**k, bird-brain." marty was quick with a counter response before the elevator doors shut.

if there was one thing shield had, it was an abundance of people she hated; off the lift with one, and onto a floor with another. however, between the two, she considered clint the lesser of two evils. the avenger's self-designated mother hen rubbed her all the wrong ways, with a belt sander. not to mention the way he seemed intent on winning her over, or paraphrasing orders in a way to try and pacify her was uncomfortable.

duty, or no, most people left her alone after a prolonged period in her company.

she stopped, "shove off," she repeated, shifting her weight on her feet, "don't you have better things to do than play fury's lapdog? go ******** read, or something--i gave you great suggestions yesterday." she then turned on her heel, and began to skulk off with the intent to hide until bedtime.

*

it was pathetic, ripley already looked exhausted. loki turned his attention back ahead, and continued to move deftly through the snow. he did not mind that ripley was literally following in his footsteps, because, all things considered, they were actually moving at a decent(-ish) pace.

"think nothing of it, sasha," he dismissed her thank you. "it would have been pitiable to go through everything you put me through only to have you freeze to death." his joke was founded in truth, but he played it off with an expert-level of charm. pitiable indeed, he would not go through all of this just so he could have an omega-level ice pop.

however, he did take not that this had been the first time she was civil with him of her own accord, and not because she was worried about what frigga would think.

loki's countenance took a turn for the serious, "we need to do our best not to." this was said very convincingly, but it was ultimately a lie. he knew very well the nasty turn things would take if he told ripley that he was counting on being caught in the village a mile, or two away.

funnily enough, getting captured was the easiest way to get supplies, and information freely.