Rochade - A Game of Intrigue

Albin Countergambit

“Sorry.” Steve Roger's voice sounded a bit sheepish even over the howling winds and Wanda was sure that his tone was mirrored by his facial expression. She wouldn't know for sure, however, since she was far too busy clinging to the man for her dear life.

That guy was completely crackers! He had jumped out of a flying plane, the box with the head of Bruce Banner at his hip and a witch in his arms. No security measures, no second parachute, not strapping everyone together. Just like that. When Wanda had stopped her rather ignoble screaming, he had at least used his parachute. She realized at this moment that parachuting wasn’t like she had always imagined it, gliding through the air and floating to the ground like a feather. It was instead fast and had more a feel to it like soaring like a leaf, completely at the mercy of strong winds and being in danger of becoming a rock every second and fall to oblivion. .

Eventually, it occurred to her that she wouldn't fall. The Captain held her tightly, not afraid, but secure, better than any straps he could have used. He was absolutely sure of himself, and his sense of security made Wanda feel more safe in return. She could now look over his shoulder to watch the clear night sky in all it's glory and starry majesty. She was still afraid that she could fall, but that fear along with the beautiful scene of the sky and the invigorating feeling of strong winds pulling at her clothes and hair was something oddly enjoyable. It went so far that she even regretted the sight of buildings and at last, the gentle tap when both the Captain and her finally landed.

“Sorry.” Rogers said again, releasing her from his grip and letting her walk a few steps like a drunken giraffe. “I'll warn you next time?” His attempt to grin apologetically could be heard while Wanda was busy staring at the ground and try to collect herself. She could be angry with the Captain to be taken off-guard so thoroughly, but to his credit, the adrenalin rush was somewhat enjoyable as well. There was even a small part of her that wouldn't mind doing something like that again, but she shushed that part inwardly.

“I'm fine.” It was a stammer, but her voice steadied itself as Wanda straightened herself and looked around. She knew this part of her hometown. It was one of the exits of the central station of Cologne, a place with lots of open space which was kept squeaky clean with an almost militant fervour. But this paled in the presence of the towering cathedral, its walls dark and foreboding, and even in the dark the delicate gothic adornments could be seen gracing the stony surface. In the light of the sheer size and magnificence of this cathedral, one felt small and insignificant.

Wanda knew this place well. Even in daylight, this gigantic building was a monument of dark beauty. When she was young, she had at first sometimes visited after school to marvel in the feeling of bathing in greatness. When she grew older, she came into the cathedral to watch people, tourists, artists and children in their visits. She had never regretted the experience, and now Captain Rogers had brought her here. Why?

“We have a situation at the central station. Escort to extraction point, and there could be trouble.” He said, reading the expression of her face like an open book.”I need to secure the perimeter around the station. You could come with me, but I’d rather …”

“The cathedral.” Wanda said, her gaze still transfixed on the gigantic building. “I’ll be in the cathedral. I would only hinder your mission if you had to protect a non-combatant like me.” She didn’t care much for his mission or for the organization behind it, but she didn’t wish them harm either. Her faith had faltered over the years and she didn’t really practice her religion, but she felt safe in the cathedral nonetheless. On deep breath later she looked Rogers deep in the eyes, all her sincerity laid on her words. “I won’t go anywhere until you pick me up. On that, you have my solemn word.”His features hardened into a stark expression and he nodded, stiff and formal.

“I’ll take care of your friend in the meantime.” Wanda referred to the box that contained the remains of Dr. Banner, her voice and demeanor gentle and empathic. Medical staff usually used a lot of black humour to deflect the morbid turns of their profession, and she had been no different even as a medical student, but it would be bad taste to resort to that now facing a friend of the deceased Banner.

He wordlessly placed the box before and straightened his shoulders. He looked for a moment as if he wanted to say something, but was obviously undecided what to say - that he would pick her up later, that this would take only a minute, that he appreciated it, perhaps even a mild threat as not to abuse his and Clint Barton’s trust. But he just nodded again, turned around and broke into a run.

When he had vanished in the darkness, Wanda eyed the box. Carrying body parts around in the middle of a city was the most morbid thing she had ever done, hands down, and yet she couldn’t even think of a good joke. Perhaps there was none to be had. Sighing heavily, she shouldered the box and walked to the cathedral.

The entrance portal was only dimly illuminated by street lamps, letting shadows cloak the elaborate front of the building. Saints made of stone looked into the distance, grand, silent and aloof, radiating nobility that were hardly common for inanimate objects. In the darkness, the ornaments above the massive gate shone with golden light, made by skilled hand by artists who knew and loved their craft. It was such an easy thing to curse the door with a quick flick of the wrist to open, allowing Wanda entrance for the first time in many years.

She had expected the interior to be dark as the night, but to her surprise, there were candles lit everywhere. All the majesty of the vast halls of the nave were basked in golden light, showing the bundle pillars and elegant, yet massive style of the architecture at its height. The gentle light of the candles flattered the pillars they were put on, but the light faded before it could reach the coloured windows. The sight was magnificent and beautiful, as if the spirits and saints the hall depicted were alive and shining, watchers and protectors with soft smiles and gentle hearts. Wanda’s hairs on her neck stood up when she the silent interior in awe. Was such beauty really the work of humankind? ‘Can a mortal be more righteous than a God? Can a man be more pure than his Maker?’. Not even ancient scripts knew the answer.

But there was one answer to be had at this sight - these candles shouldn’t be here. Wanda knew, although her religion beckoned her more to synagogues than cathedrals. But this wasn’t right. The chandeliers were there to light the cathedral; who would have had the time and the access to light so many candles in the dead of night?

Wanda left the box at the entrance and started to walk along the hall between the seat benches, her heels clicking with every step which echoed in the empty building.

At the end of the hall, before the altar stood a figure, his back turned to the witch even though he certainly had heard her coming in. He stood silently and unmoving, his dark hair worn loose, his hands buried in his long coat. He looked slender and sharp-dressed, but he only turned his head in the slightest when Wanda was finally within ten feet range.

“Please do nothing foolish, if you please.” He said in a casual manner, his profile showing a pale face with high cheekbones and sharp features. “My quarrel is not with you today. Leave me.”

Loki.

Wanda knew who he was. She had seen him on TV and Agatha had told her quite a lot about this man. He was a Frost Giant who was taken in by Odin and raised as his son, but then for reasons unknown went rogue. Agatha had always insisted that his role in the Chitauri Invasion was both over- and understated, since the media didn’t connect Loki’s stunt in Stuttgart with the incursion in New York. It was so easy to hate monsters, but when they had a face, it was harder to demonize. He might look human, but he was an alien after all, a Frost Giant from legend whom Wanda had known as Jötunn. The Jotun … she remembered Agatha’s instructions. Was he the Jotun whose steps she had to retrace? He could be. He had to be. And he was dangerous. Why was he even here, not to mention free? Suddenly and rather unsuspected, she felt anger growing in her stomach. She believed in second chances, but this man didn’t really look like he regretted the deaths he had caused. Inwardly, she told herself to calm down. He was out of her league, nothing that could be done about him.

“I can’t leave.” Wanda said politely, ignoring her fear and shaking fingers while she took a step further to him. “If you don’t mind, I would like to have a chat with you.” Where she took the courage to speak up to an alien creature who had invaded her world, her home before she would never know, but the courage was there, and it was there to stay. Even when the Jotun finally turned around, she didn’t flinch, thank goodness.

He wanted to say something, but he paused, looking at her with a surprised and stunned expression. Frowning, he took a few steps towards her, murmuring as if solving a riddle for himself. “I know you.” That was impossible. She had never seen this man her entire life. Wanda considered that he was simply lying to her, but his reaction felt genuine, and he didn’t gain much with this confusing reaction. “I know you.” He said again, this time a bit louder for her to hear. “You were there. But you were …” Loki paused again, shaking his head with finality. “No, you’re not. You are nothing but a shade. Nothing real, nothing haunting.” Then, with a dismissive gesture, he concluded his speech. “Run along, little bird. There are no answers for you here.”

Anger surged inside her once more. This man came here, uninvited, led an army and killed her fellow humans and then had the audacity to just break into a cathedral, allegedly cramming it with candles, talked incoherent nonsense and then he just brushed her attempt to be friendly aside as if she were nothing but an annoying insect. Before she knew it and without even thinking, she gathered magic inside her and just hurled the curse at Loki, who was in the process of turning around. He just stumbled and fell to the floor, rolling down a few stairs before coming to a halt. For a moment, he looked just as baffled as she felt.

In retrospect, just slapping him with a hex wasn't the smartest thing Wanda could have done. Most of the time, she was surprised what her curses actually wrought, and this time she was even more surprised that it happened at all. Stupid non-existent discipline. She hadn't even known that she had this anger inside her, and it had decided to come out at the least convenient time. Typical. She decided to chide herself later; she had started this fight, now she had to continue it.

Before Loki could rise, she threw a second curse at him. This one, however, was much more refined that her first reaction, a spell that she had practiced with Agatha over and over again. Scarlet red energy gathered around her hands, gleaming sickeningly like bloodstreams in the desert sun while she focused her thoughts on the effect. Sometimes, it didn't work, but now that she had reacted, that risk was to be taken. The Jotun was hit with her curse before he could act, and he started blinking and looking around as if she wasn't visible anymore. In a way, she was.

It was no invisibility per se as the common definition would have it. She had cursed Loki with a very precise and specific kind of bad luck that would just let him overlook her. His sight was still intact, he could still sense her presence, but he would just look the wrong way, as if missing the forest for the trees. Simply put, it was a kind of sensory overload that now worked to Wanda's advantage. But that did mean she had to be very careful and quiet right now.

The Jotun’s answer was swift and decisive: With a swift motion of his hand, he conjured doppelgangers of himself, no less than a dozen or so to hide himself in the crowd. Wanda was sure that these were just illusionary images, but even she with her limited understanding of magic could see that they were pure perfection. Agatha had told her that Loki was a sorcerer himself, but nobody ever told her that he was amazing. She had once tried to weave an illusion like this, and it had looked like ghostly figure coloured like an old Disney movie. But Loki's illusions were indistinguishable from his own self, all of them wearing the same clothes, all of them having a different stance and different facial expressions … and all of them apparently listening intently. He was deprived of sight, so he used his others senses and, more importantly, he let her know.

Wanda froze in her movement and took a moment to take in the complete and utter silence of the cathedral while she felt her blood rushing through her veins and feared that her heartbeat would give her position away. She even held her breath and noticed with a little amusement that her opponent had to have done the same. That he had called so many illusions to protect himself was a typical reaction of surprise and uncertainty; she had caught him completely off-guard and as a result, he had summoned his defenses. But why did he let her know that he was listening? Did he have another method of locating her? What was he planning?

She did not dare to fire another of her definitely harmful hexbolts at him, since the volatile nature of her less practiced spells tended to produce unpredictable results, as she had learned time and time again the hard way. Loki was to be defeated, not to be hurt or, heaven forbid, even killed. But chances were that her offensive spells wouldn’t even affect him.

First things first – she had to ditch her shoes. Her heels would make undesired sounds and even if she tiptoed he would certainly hear her. Furthermore, it was necessary to test how he would locate her. Was it her breath? Body heat? She had to move fast, and to do that, she had to create a distraction to slip out of her shoes and move more silently, perhaps even to run away or hide until Captain Rogers arrived. There was no shame in admitting when one was out of one’s depth.

So, the witch pointed at one bench in the vicinity of the illusionary Loki horde and willed it to creak loudly, using the skills Agatha had taught her to mask the energy she emitted from her fingertips. The plan was to make a little bit of noise and kick off the shoes and sneak into hiding.

It was a good plan. Unfortunately, it went wrong. Perhaps Wanda was too excited and exhausted to work her magic properly, perhaps the Jotun had done something to disrupt magic. Neither did her masking spell work, nor did the bench creak. Instead, it turned slightly green. Bugger.

Loki reacted promptly, and before Wanda knew it, there were benches flying in her general direction. That guy lifted a few freaking benches with his mind! One part of her was terrified, the other grudgingly respected his skill while she tried to jump out of the way. How she had managed to slip out of her pumps nobody would ever know, she only realized that she walked on her tights. Around her, benches came crashing down, some of them splintering on impact, others missing her only by an inch while she ran, faster than she had ever run in her life.

It didn't do her any good. Finally, Wanda was hit by one of the flying benches and violently hurled to the ground. She felt one or two of her ribs crack and a sharp pain in her arms and legs where she had tried to attenuate the fall. She noticed now that some of the candles nearby had fallen off and some of the wooden benches had caught fire. It was a world of hurt, and it wasn't going to get any easier.

Wanda tried to crawl from under the bench when she heard Loki's footsteps. He had dismissed his illusions and moved slowly, deliberately staring at her but at the same time through her. He still couldn't see the sorceress, and that was why he was still exercising caution although she was sure he had at least heard her ribs crack. He was about to pass under the massive church organ in the midst of the little fires spreading in the cathedral when Wanda devised a desperate plan. She gestured at the organ and weaved magic into her will, hoping that she would cause some malfunction that would make a lot of noise and thus call Captain America to the rescue, or even better, scare the Jotun off.

But this was not what happened. Instead, the whole plateau caved in, burying Loki under a lot of stone, debris, dust and one of the largest organs in all of Europe.

For a moment, she was stunned at the fact that she had just dropped an organ on her opponent. That certainly hadn’t been her intention, but whenever she wasn’t sure what her powers would do, she was in for a surprise, for better or worse. Picking herself up and stumbling to her feet, she rushed to the debris where she could see the dark head of hair in the midst of swirling dust. The Jotun didn't stir, lying half-buried under the debris and an enormous organ, his upper body easily freed. Dust had settled in his hair, his face was pale and his lower lip had cracked open, letting a small stream of blood trickling from his mouth. Checking his vitals and making sure that the blood from the mouth was indeed just from the lip and not from internal organ damage, Wanda heard herself laugh humourlessly. She had gone head to head with a famous sorcerer in a magic duel and lived to tell the tale. More so, even if she had to wrecked a place of historical importance, she had apparently won. Won! How did that happen? How the heck had she survived this?

But it wasn't over. There had been a Jotun woman in the village of New Salem, so Wanda knew that Loki would be up shortly, as his injuries didn't look that severe. There had to be a way, a fast way to restrain him before he recovered. Looking around, Wanda realized that a few small fires had started and that they would spread shortly, and they were already making breathing difficult. There was little time to get them both and Dr. Banners remains out of here. When she looked at the floor, she had an idea.

Gothic architecture was full of symbolism. In part, this was superstition and art, but for one schooled, these symbols were signs of faith, and faith and magic came from the same place of the heart and mind. To use christian elements for magic rituals was commonplace, even Wanda did it. It was easy to handle and to acquire. So, she quickly freed Loki from the debris and dragged him to one particular ornament on the floor that could easily serve as a magic circle. And damn, even a slender man like this was heavy.

She placed him in the circle cautiously, taking care not to injure him further. In the meantime, Wanda had made up her mind to put the Jotun under a geis. It was a curse of sorts deep from the depths of celtic mythology. Basically, it defined a taboo for an individual, and if that taboo was broken, grave injury or even death were possible. There was a legend about the hero of Ulster, Cúchulainn, who had two geasa: never to pass a herd and decline an offer for a meal, and never to eat dog meat. When he was offered dog meat for a meal and thus, broke one of his geasa, one of his arms decayed and he died shortly thereafter. And a geis woven in a cathedral over a thousand years old would be a curse that would give even Loki pause.

Unfortunately, she didn't know even one gaelic word, which could disrupt the ritual. But attempting it even if she failed would be better than doing nothing and letting Loki recover before any reinforcements could arrive. Also, these kind of rituals usually contained one of the following components: Nature, sex or blood. Since she didn't fancy the former, she chose the latter, scratched a bit of blood from her small wound on the forehead and smeared it into the parted lips of the Jotun. Then, she tasted his blood. Strange, it didn't seem any different from human blood, and Loki's quiet face looked young, almost vulnerable, not like the frightening creature that had gleefully pureed the eyeball of an innocent man.

The smoke got thicker while she started her murmured incantation, and while she did so, Loki started to stir. But even with her incantation being in english, her knowledge about the ritual wasn’t that vast. It felt oddly wrong when she explained the waking Jotun the terms, since the ritual compelled her to do a thorough explanation.

“Please don’t move too much.” She had aimed to sound and look commanding and imposing, but instead her voice was mild and empathetic. How strange, that was not supposed to happen. “You are in the middle of a magic ritual and I assume that you know better than to disturb it with something like, say, attacking me. Also, you were hurt pretty badly. Sorry about that.”

Loki opened his eyes with visible effort, and then groaned. He had to know better than to disrupt the ritual and jump Wanda right now. He was, after all, an experienced sorcerer, right? He wouldn’t just puree her like the poor fellow in Stuttgart.

But indeed, he did nothing. He just took a look at the floor, recognized the soft glow of a magic circle and then nodded slowly, visibly in pain. He even looked resigned after he had managed to shoot her a hateful glance. “What kind of ritual are you playing with?”

“I’m putting you under a geis.” Wanda explained, ignoring his insult. “There will be a taboo. If it is broken, you risk imminent death.” Considering that she didn’t do the ritual the right way, she had to lessen the difficulty, which meant that she had to shoulder terms. Also, the phrasing was very important, but such things were basic education for any sorcerer. “The geis will also affect me. The spirit of the geis is meaningless, what counts is the letter of the taboo. Listen closely: No harm will come to the homeworld or the people who live there from the hand of the participants, unless in self-defence, accident, unconsciously, unwilling, or to keep greater harm from the people or save more of them than are sacrificed in the long run until such a time both participants have lifted the geis. Do you understand?”

Magic surged through both of their bodies, an invigorating feeling that didn’t prevent Loki from slowly sitting up … and smiling. What on earth could have amused him right after being forbidden to essentially harm any human being? But Loki seemed to add his own magic to the ritual, exploiting a flaw that Wanda’s inexperience had woven. He added himself as a participant and caster of the ritual … that meant, that he could dictate her terms as well, and worse, put a geas on her.

“Sloppy work.” He slurred his words, but he was nonetheless grinning in triumph. “Hear my words: None of the participants will acknowledge the presence or continued existence of the other in regards to non-participants of this ritual and will do their very best to keep the presence and continued existence of said participant hidden until such a time he or she is explicitly allowed to do otherwise.”

That he was schooled in the basic terms of ritual wasn’t surprising, but that he effectively prevented Wanda from telling anybody about him was an annoyance. How was she supposed to warn Captain Rogers about the Jotun who had without a doubt some sinister plan in motion? Once more, magic surged, the circle flickered and faded, leaving the ritual complete. It felt like a thousand invisible needles had taken root in her soul, and in her dazed condition, she found herself sinking to the floor, sitting beside Loki in a similar state while smoke filled the hall. She had to get out of there, and fast. She stumbled to her feet and offered Loki her hand, but he was determined to be petty and decline it by rising on his own. She wanted to say something, one witty one-liner about fire or sorcery, but she never had the chance. The sound of dripping fluid was the only warning they ever got.

Both of them froze immediately as they heard an animalistic roar, then slow and heavy stomps, every single one accompanied by a distinct thud. There was silence hanging heavy in the air while smoke and flames seemed to part and reveal the enormous shade. Wanda could feel her own heart beating madly against her chest, while the sound of dripping fluid became more and more audible as the creature approached. Good grief, what was that stench?

She watched in horror as the shape of this monster appeared in the smoke. It towered at least twice as large and many more times as massive as any human, a mountain of muscles. Aside from the head, there was no skin anywhere, so that muscles and sinews were clearly visible. Parts of his abdomen, his feet and his left arm were still ragged, if not outright missing, while blood, so much more blood than was possible dripped from the creature’s body. His eyes showed a strange glow, one that Wanda recognized at once as necromancy. It jerked its head, apparently noticing either her or Loki, who stood just as frozen as she.

It was Wanda, who finally took his hand, her eyes never leaving the giant monster, whispering “I propose a temporary alliance.” and trying to lead him to back off, slowly. He let himself be led, whispering a short agreement. The giant Zombie seemed to take his time to stomp closer to both of them.

“Any plan?” Loki’s voice faltered barely audible with just a hint of fear and nervousness.

“Run?”

“In part, that’s a feasible plan. You hit it with one of these spells and I cover our escape?” Wiseacre.

“I don’t know what will happen.” Wanda still couldn’t look away while the towering figure stomped closer.

This time, Loki really turned his head to her, speaking in whisper, but also in the impatient tone one reserved for lazy and dim-witted students. “Nobody ever learned magic with a little bit of risk. But this lesson is lost on you; you don’t even dare to cast your spells on yourself.”

If there wasn’t a gigantic zombie threatening both of their lives while they were paralyzed with indecision and fear and he wasn’t a douchebag who had invaded her home, she would love to have a professional chat with him.

Then, the white knight in shining armour appeared. He took the form of a determined Steve Rogers, who had sneaked soft-footed to jump the zombie. In a display of valor and foolish despair, he threw himself like a berserk against that nightmarish monster, no matter how much blood was splattering around. The creature roared in rage, but its movements were uncoordinated and clumsy, so it tried to grab the wrestling Captain with its only hand. It failed the first, but not the second time, seizing him by the shoulder.
The soldier however was not deterred. He struggled himself free, kept moving around the creature, as if he wanted to taunt it.

Wanda could feel that Loki withdrew his hand from her, but didn’t care much. She had more important things on her mind, like helping Captain Rogers. She was too tired and exhausted for magic right now, and now started coughing. But she managed to shout one vital piece of information. “Decapitate it! This isn’t your friend! It isn’t Banner!”

By the time she had sunk to the floor, deprived of the adrenalin that had kept her standing during the confrontation with Loki. She could only watch motionless how Rogers fought with the beast, how he relentlessly assaulted it and, in the end, took his shield and managed to throw it, decapitating the undead creature. The head rolled over the floor, leaving a small trail of gore behind. It was thoroughly disgusting. It was then when Wanda realized that Loki was gone.

“Are you alright, ma’am? What was that?” Steve Rogers had rushed to her side, trying to help her up. But she felt so boneless and couldn’t stop coughing. That was odd. The smoke shouldn’t affect her that much, since she was close to the floor. Smoke didn’t sink down there that soon.

“It wasn’t me.” Wanda answered, tired as she was. Before she lost consciousness, she realized that Loki was gone.

Notes