Into The Shadows
Chapter Ten
"Midgardian!"
I turned, recognizing the booming voice instantly. Thor was practically bounding down the corridor towards me, a determined look set on his features.
"What's he want?" Tony asked quietly, and I shrugged. As soon as Thor reached me, he sank down on to one knee, his head bowed. I stared incredulously in turn at Steve, Tony and Clint, who all had the same bemused expression on their faces.
"Daughter of Rain," Thor began, and I rolled my eyes. The first time we'd met, Thor had confused my name as being Rainolds, and had somehow made the assumption that this meant I was the daughter of rain. No amount of protesting had changed his mind on the subject, and unfortunately I was stuck as being the daughter of rain.
"Yes Thor?"
"I present to you, the sword of Denearmul." Thor produced a thick sword from the folds of his cape, holding it out with both hands. I blinked silently and stared at Steve, who shrugged in reply.
"Uh, that's lovely Thor, thank you." I said, plucking the sword from his grasp. As I did, Thor flicked his head up, watching me closely.
"Is it heavy" he asked, and I shook my head, surprised at how light the sword was. The texture of it was similar to stone, and it had the same color. At the center of the hilt, just past the cross guard, was a blue stone, that, as I tilted the sword, caught the light and glimmered. The pommel was engraved with intricate designs that wound their way down to the grip. The sword blade itself was curved right to the end, and the tip seemed to be made of multiple pieces stuck on top of one another. As I gripped the sword more tightly in my hand, the blue stone in the hilt began to glow independent of the light.
I heard Thor take a deep breath in, and behind me, Tony whispered "Shit." I looked up at Thor, and had the instant feeling that this had something to do with his sudden interest with my 'fire blood.'
"This sword cannot be gripped by a Midgardian, only a person born of Asgard." Thor explained, "However, there is one Midgard who is said to be able to wield it. The daughter of the fire blood."
"Is he talking about your trippy acid blood?" Clint asked, and I nodded, keeping my eyes on Thor, who had sunk down into a bow.
"The powers of the sword are unknown to most, and are linked directly to the bearer." Thor told me, his voice muffled slightly by his hair, which was hanging down like a curtain. When he rose, it was with a look of determination.
"The sword now belongs to you, daughter of rain." He told me, and with another small bow, he turned and left, leaving me standing with the other four, holding a magical stone sword that was about as trippy as my blood.
When I woke up on the morning of the 17th, it was still dark outside. I instantly knew that something was wrong, before I'd even opened my eyes properly. My stomach felt like it had been tied into knots, and I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I rolled over, trying to get comfortable again, before realizing I was alone. There was a warm, Steve-shaped hollow in the bed next to me, but there was no blue eyed Super Soldier to cuddle up next to. Surprised, I sat up, eyeing the room. I'd woken up about a week before to no Steve, only to see him sitting in the arm chair dressed in a pair of boxer shorts with a pad on his lap. He hadn't let me see what he'd been drawing, and I still hadn't managed to steal it off him.
Today though, as far as I could tell in the darkness, there was no Steve in the arm chair. I was alone in my room.
"JARVIS?" I mumbled, running my hands through my hair and stifling a yawn, "Where's Steve at?"
"Captain Rogers left for the private gym about ten minutes ago, Miss Reynolds. He asked me to tell you that he'd only be gone for an hour."
I was tempted to go back to sleep, but the tug in the bottom of my stomach forced me to get up and pull some clothes on. I couldn't sleep with this sick feeling, let alone on my own.
"JARVIS, I'm gonna go to the Gym." I mumbled.
"Would you like me to inform Captain Rogers of your intentions, Miss Reynolds?"
"Nah, that's okay." I said, closing the door behind me as I stepped out into the corridor, setting off for the Gym.
I found Steve beating the crap out of a punching bag a few minutes later. Beads of sweat were already forming on his forehead, and he danced around the punching bag, occasionally jabbing at it before throwing his right fist as hard as he could into the leather. I watched the bag swing for a few moments before stepping further into the room.
"Can't sleep either?" I asked. He turned, surprised, and smiled softly.
"Not the first time. I come up here sometimes when you're asleep and throw a few punches."
"Or you sit and draw in that notepad." I teased, watching as he threw another couple of punches. He laughed and continued to box. I glanced around the room, and my eyes fell on a duffell bag. usually, I knew, this had his gym clothes in it. Today, though, I could see the corner of his sketchbook poking out of it. While he was distracted, I snuck across the room to try and get to it. I'd never seen one of his drawings, and the temptation was killing me.
Steve spotted me out of the corner of his eye, just as I reached the bag. "No you don't!" He cried, racing across the room just as I picked it up. I opened the first page, and just had time to see a pair of legs stretched on top of a table before something crashed into me, knocking me flat onto the crash mats.
I laughed, "Steve, c'mon."
"No way, Claire." Steve grinned and rolled me over so I was on my back, before straddling me and pinning me to the floor, holding my wrists together with one hand and plucking the book from my grasp with the other. He threw the book back towards his bag.
"You want to play rough?" I teased. He laughed and loosened his grip on my wrists, giving me the opportunity to push his shoulders and roll him over so I was on top. He stared up at me in shock for a few seconds, obviously not used to women taking charge like this. That was all the time I needed to dive for the bag.
Steve caught me around the waist with one arm and pulled me back onto him, pushing me down so I was underneath him, before starting to tickle my sides. I shrieked with laughter and tried to push him off, wriggling and squirming underneath him, my eyes screwed shut.
After about a minute, the tickling stopped, and I opened my eyes. His head was hanging a few inches from mine, and I could hear his breathing, coming out in short, sharp pants. He looked from my eyes to my lips, and kept his eyes there for a few moments before dipping his head and kissing me, slipping his tongue into my mouth.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me up into a sitting position with him, tangling his fingers into my hair, kissing me hungrily.
I turned, recognizing the booming voice instantly. Thor was practically bounding down the corridor towards me, a determined look set on his features.
"What's he want?" Tony asked quietly, and I shrugged. As soon as Thor reached me, he sank down on to one knee, his head bowed. I stared incredulously in turn at Steve, Tony and Clint, who all had the same bemused expression on their faces.
"Daughter of Rain," Thor began, and I rolled my eyes. The first time we'd met, Thor had confused my name as being Rainolds, and had somehow made the assumption that this meant I was the daughter of rain. No amount of protesting had changed his mind on the subject, and unfortunately I was stuck as being the daughter of rain.
"Yes Thor?"
"I present to you, the sword of Denearmul." Thor produced a thick sword from the folds of his cape, holding it out with both hands. I blinked silently and stared at Steve, who shrugged in reply.
"Uh, that's lovely Thor, thank you." I said, plucking the sword from his grasp. As I did, Thor flicked his head up, watching me closely.
"Is it heavy" he asked, and I shook my head, surprised at how light the sword was. The texture of it was similar to stone, and it had the same color. At the center of the hilt, just past the cross guard, was a blue stone, that, as I tilted the sword, caught the light and glimmered. The pommel was engraved with intricate designs that wound their way down to the grip. The sword blade itself was curved right to the end, and the tip seemed to be made of multiple pieces stuck on top of one another. As I gripped the sword more tightly in my hand, the blue stone in the hilt began to glow independent of the light.
I heard Thor take a deep breath in, and behind me, Tony whispered "Shit." I looked up at Thor, and had the instant feeling that this had something to do with his sudden interest with my 'fire blood.'
"This sword cannot be gripped by a Midgardian, only a person born of Asgard." Thor explained, "However, there is one Midgard who is said to be able to wield it. The daughter of the fire blood."
"Is he talking about your trippy acid blood?" Clint asked, and I nodded, keeping my eyes on Thor, who had sunk down into a bow.
"The powers of the sword are unknown to most, and are linked directly to the bearer." Thor told me, his voice muffled slightly by his hair, which was hanging down like a curtain. When he rose, it was with a look of determination.
"The sword now belongs to you, daughter of rain." He told me, and with another small bow, he turned and left, leaving me standing with the other four, holding a magical stone sword that was about as trippy as my blood.
When I woke up on the morning of the 17th, it was still dark outside. I instantly knew that something was wrong, before I'd even opened my eyes properly. My stomach felt like it had been tied into knots, and I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I rolled over, trying to get comfortable again, before realizing I was alone. There was a warm, Steve-shaped hollow in the bed next to me, but there was no blue eyed Super Soldier to cuddle up next to. Surprised, I sat up, eyeing the room. I'd woken up about a week before to no Steve, only to see him sitting in the arm chair dressed in a pair of boxer shorts with a pad on his lap. He hadn't let me see what he'd been drawing, and I still hadn't managed to steal it off him.
Today though, as far as I could tell in the darkness, there was no Steve in the arm chair. I was alone in my room.
"JARVIS?" I mumbled, running my hands through my hair and stifling a yawn, "Where's Steve at?"
"Captain Rogers left for the private gym about ten minutes ago, Miss Reynolds. He asked me to tell you that he'd only be gone for an hour."
I was tempted to go back to sleep, but the tug in the bottom of my stomach forced me to get up and pull some clothes on. I couldn't sleep with this sick feeling, let alone on my own.
"JARVIS, I'm gonna go to the Gym." I mumbled.
"Would you like me to inform Captain Rogers of your intentions, Miss Reynolds?"
"Nah, that's okay." I said, closing the door behind me as I stepped out into the corridor, setting off for the Gym.
I found Steve beating the crap out of a punching bag a few minutes later. Beads of sweat were already forming on his forehead, and he danced around the punching bag, occasionally jabbing at it before throwing his right fist as hard as he could into the leather. I watched the bag swing for a few moments before stepping further into the room.
"Can't sleep either?" I asked. He turned, surprised, and smiled softly.
"Not the first time. I come up here sometimes when you're asleep and throw a few punches."
"Or you sit and draw in that notepad." I teased, watching as he threw another couple of punches. He laughed and continued to box. I glanced around the room, and my eyes fell on a duffell bag. usually, I knew, this had his gym clothes in it. Today, though, I could see the corner of his sketchbook poking out of it. While he was distracted, I snuck across the room to try and get to it. I'd never seen one of his drawings, and the temptation was killing me.
Steve spotted me out of the corner of his eye, just as I reached the bag. "No you don't!" He cried, racing across the room just as I picked it up. I opened the first page, and just had time to see a pair of legs stretched on top of a table before something crashed into me, knocking me flat onto the crash mats.
I laughed, "Steve, c'mon."
"No way, Claire." Steve grinned and rolled me over so I was on my back, before straddling me and pinning me to the floor, holding my wrists together with one hand and plucking the book from my grasp with the other. He threw the book back towards his bag.
"You want to play rough?" I teased. He laughed and loosened his grip on my wrists, giving me the opportunity to push his shoulders and roll him over so I was on top. He stared up at me in shock for a few seconds, obviously not used to women taking charge like this. That was all the time I needed to dive for the bag.
Steve caught me around the waist with one arm and pulled me back onto him, pushing me down so I was underneath him, before starting to tickle my sides. I shrieked with laughter and tried to push him off, wriggling and squirming underneath him, my eyes screwed shut.
After about a minute, the tickling stopped, and I opened my eyes. His head was hanging a few inches from mine, and I could hear his breathing, coming out in short, sharp pants. He looked from my eyes to my lips, and kept his eyes there for a few moments before dipping his head and kissing me, slipping his tongue into my mouth.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me up into a sitting position with him, tangling his fingers into my hair, kissing me hungrily.
