Cruel Summer

“You need to think of the weapon as an extension of yourself. Not an object you are using, but something that is a part of you,” Clint explains, standing beside me.

We are in the gun range, and today's lesson is on knife throwing. Yesterday I had been instructed on gun use, and it went just about as well as today is going. Badly.

“So it’s like my arm is a little longer, and sharp at the end,” I snicker.

Clint just raises his eyebrow at me and throws his knife in a quick motion towards the target.

Bullseye.

I sigh, and then glare at him.

“You make it look so easy,” I complain.

“Well, I have been doing this for like thirty years,” he smirks, throwing another knife at the target.

“Don’t worry, soon enough you’ll make it look just as easy,” Nat encourages, leaning against the wall behind me, “well maybe not ‘as easy,’ but still easier.”

I turn and look at her with a deadpan expression.

I see the left corner of her mouth turn up and we both burst out laughing.

“Okay, okay. Practice and all that, I’m aware that’s how one gets better,” I drawl, sliding my fingers over the knives on the table to my right, “but I think some skill is involved too.”

“Follow my instructions and you will have all the skill you need,” Clint insists.

I huff, and pluck one of the knives from the table. I assume my stance, bring my arm back at the angle Clint had shown me earlier, and then close my eyes.

I think about Clint’s advice, and take a deep breath. I imagine the knife is part of my hand, something that I can control and move around at will.

I imagine myself throwing my arm forward, until it is me who is hitting the center of the target, not the knife, not just an object. A complete being.

I open my eyes in a flash, and throw my arm forward.

The knife arcs as it leaves my hand and slices through the air.

It’s airborne, and then barely a second later it’s buried in the center of the target.

“No way,” I blurt at the same time Clint is yelling, “yes! That’s what I’m talking about!”

“It can’t be that easy,” I breathe, still staring at the target, astounded.

“It is if you’ve got a great teacher,” Clint laughs, elbowing me in the side.

“And soon enough you’ll be able to do the same thing with a gun,” Nat adds, coming up to stand beside me.

I smile, looking from side-to-side at the both of them.

“Impressive work Lady Vanek,” I hear a voice boom behind me, and I turn in surprise.

It’s Thor, coming through the doors from the training room.

I have yet to really talk to him, aside from the meeting I had with the whole team.

“Thor, what brings you to the shooting range on such a fine day,” Clint jests, throwing his arms out in an open gesture, indicating the space.

“I came for Lady Vanek,” Thor smiles, looking towards me.

“Just Harper, Thor. You don’t need to call me ‘Lady’ anything,” I grimace, grabbing my bottle of water from the table and taking a drink.

“Very well Harper. I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to Loki’s chambers,” he asks.

“For what reason,” I respond, eyeing him.

“I’m trying to convince him to come out and socialize more, the recluse. To interact and partake in the daily life of the tower,” Thor explains, beaming.

“And you need my help with that,” I laugh.

“I think that if we team up we can get him to come out at least once, even if just to get us be quiet,” he simplifies, looking hopeful.

I ponder it for a second, and then dramatically sigh.

“I suppose I could help you out. I was headed there next anyways,” I smile at him, “just let me clean up a little.”

I gesture at my person, indicating my gym clothes.

“Very well. I will be waiting outside the training center doors,” Thor informs me.

I say goodbye to Clint and Nat, and head towards the locker room. I quickly strip down, run a damp rag over my arms and neck to wipe away any sweat I accumulated, and get dressed in my work clothes.

Today’s outfit consists of a forest green v-neck dress with cap sleeves and a gold zipper running the expanse of my back, and a pair of black ankle strap heels.

I let my hair down from its bun, and run my fingers through it.

Lastly, just a little bit of makeup. A quick application of eyeliner and mascara to make my eyes more dramatic, some highlighter to my upper cheekbones, and a quick swipe of red lipstick.

Good enough.

***

“Come on Loki,” Thor bellows, “you cannot just stay in here all of your days.”

“Well it is what I have been doing so far, so I think I am able,” Loki grumbles, giving his brother the side eye.

Thor just grunts, like they’ve had similar arguments before and he’s getting tired of Loki’s shit.

I try to stifle a giggle, but can’t help it, and the sound spills out from my lips.

Loki whips his head towards me and glares.

“Is something funny,” he asks, teeth clenched.

“You guys have an interesting dynamic,” is all I say in response.

Loki continues to glare.

“Thor’s right, though,” I add, “I know you’re not happy to be here, but like I’ve mentioned before, you are here. So while here, you may as well enjoy your time. It’s not good for a person to be cooped up by themselves all the time. Alone-time is one thing, complete isolation is another.”

“Complete isolation? Remember, dear, I do have the misfortune of being visited regularly by you,” he notes.

I flinch back, surprised by his words. I shouldn’t be, but am.

While he’s continued to be rough around the edges, things between us have tended to be much better than the first day.

I turn away, not wanting him to see how his words have hurt me.

“I don’t think I qualify as socialization, seeing as we hardly talk anyways,” I retort, “most of the time I’m here is spent in silence, while you sit in the shadows and read.”

“Would you rather I do something else in the shadows,” he purrs.

I turn around and look at him, mouth agape, eyes wide.

“Now Loki, I will not have you making Harper feel like a harlot,” Thor jumps in, defending me.

“Is that not what she is, the little minx? She seems to have all the men here wrapped around her finger. Especially that boy, oh what was his name,” Loki ponders, tapping his chin, “oh yes, Cameron. I can only imagine the things she has done to earn his unwavering loyalty.”

In a second I am standing directly in front of him, chest-to-chest. My fists are clenched, my breathing harsh, and his face looks so unsurprised by the turn of events that it just makes me angrier.

I bring my hand up, intending to slap the look off that smug face of his.

Unsurprisingly, he catches my wrist before my hand makes contact.

Stupid gods.

“Now sweetheart, is that the way to a man's heart,” Loki reprimands.

“Well certainly not to yours, seeing as how you don’t have one,” I spit, ripping my arm back from his grasp and stepping away.

I’m rubbing my wrist, and when I look up at his face, he looks...hurt.

Ugh, like he has a right to act hurt after the things he said to me.

“Well this has not gone how I wanted it to,” Thor cuts in, startling me. I had forgotten he was there. “I tried at least,” he adds.

I’m still looking at Loki, trying to read him. His face has morphed into something more akin to resignment.

“Yeah, same here,” I agree gruffly.

With this, I turn and walk out of the apartment.

***

“You want to what now,” Tony asks incredulously.

“Have Loki be present at your next party,” I explain in simple terms.

“For what purpose,” he questions.

“To test out how he behaves in public. I know you have been wanting me to evaluate him so you know if he’ll be fine for sure, but I can only figure out so much when he’s isolated,” I insist.

“So you want him to be at a party where there will be important business partners and civilians, as a test,” he glowers.

“Yes. From what I have gathered, and will continue to gather once he comes out of his apartment more often, I think it will turn out fine. Loki may be an asshole, but he’s an asshole who cares about his self image. Before, when he tried to take over, he didn't care. He figured if he was successful, he would be ruling and it wouldn't matter if people hated him because he'd be in charge anyways. You see it in a lot of dictators. But now that he's here, and having to stay at more of a normal level of power in society, I think he understands that he can't be too much of a pain. Of course we can’t let people know who he is exactly, but if we give him a fake name to use, I think it will be a good test to see how he behaves among other humans,” I assure.

“And what if he refuses? What if he decides to tell people who he really is,” Tony worries.

“Well, who are they going to believe? The Avengers, or a crazy guy at a party, who’s probably drunk or delusional? It’s not like he has a way to prove it to them, seeing as his magic is impaired and all the footage of him from the attack has been censored,” I appeal, bringing up some documents on my tablet, “here, I’ll send you what I have so far, and the list of contingency plans I’ve created in case things go sideways.”

“I’ll look these over and think on it. If I agree, you have the hard job in convincing him to even show up,” he laughs bitterly.

“I suppose I do,” I agree, ending the conversation.

***

“Here, I brought these for you,” I announce, coming inside.

It was evening now, and the sunlight was fading outside the windows.

After I left Loki’s apartment earlier, I had taken some time to cool down. Of course, Cam had asked what happened when I came outside fuming, and when I told him, he about marched back inside to threaten Loki.

I of course stopped him, not wanting to provoke Loki further.

During this time I went to the library and got Loki some of the books he wanted.

I was carrying all of them in a cart, which I wheeled into the room behind me. It felt like a scene right out of Matilda.

“What’s this,” he asks, grabbing one of the books off the top of the pile.

“Well, they didn’t have everything you wanted, so I used some of my human expertise and grabbed a few books I thought you would enjoy. They’re classics,” I explain, huffing.

“The Fellowship of the Ring,” he reads, examining the book closely.

“Yep. First of three books in a main series. Written about 70 years ago and based off of some of the authors experiences during one of our worlds largest modern wars and his own thoughts on topics such as industrialization, mythology, religion, and language,” I explain, cringing at how much I sound like the nerd I know I am.

Loki doesn’t seem to mind, though, as I see his usual disinterested face turn into something closer to fascinated.

I move further into the room, bringing the cart over to the bookshelf. I begin picking the books one-by-one out of the cart and line them up.

“I am sorry for my words earlier,” Loki apologizes suddenly, startling me.

I finish putting the book I was holding on the shelf, and turn around to face him.

I must have a look of incredulity on my face, because he smiles a small smile.

“I am telling the truth. I am sure that the boys worship of you has more to do with your radiant personality than any act you may have performed,” he justifies, looking me straight in the face.

It’s almost unnerving the way he addresses you. Humans, well at least the ones I’ve met, tend to avoid eye contact and find it daunting.

“Radiant personality,” I repeat, tittering.

“Can you not see it,” he asks, cocking his head slightly to the side, “are you dense girl? People tend to align themselves with you, and though I know humans tend to protect things they find beautiful and therefore vulnerable, it is more than that. Yes, they find you alluring, but they stand beside you, and find allurement in your personality, in your actions. Not just in your face.”

I just stare at him. I’m confused and flattered by his words.

“But we warned,” he continues, “for some, it takes more than a pretty face, more than a captivating naiveté.”

With this, he turns and faces the window. I come to recognize it as his ‘I’m done dealing with your idiocy’ signaling.

“I don’t know why Cameron, or anyone, feels the way they feel about me,” I admit, surprising myself with the openness and vulnerability I’m displaying in front of him.

He doesn’t turn, but I see his head move slightly in my direction, so I know he’s listening.

“I’ve been on my own for a long time. There was a point in my life where everything was going right for me, and then suddenly it wasn’t. And then, eventually, I came here. I met all of these amazing people. The kind that people like me only dream of meeting, of being friends with. And Cameron was one of those people. He was caring, funny, and supportive. I wanted him, but he was all of the things I told myself I didn’t deserve. He wanted me too, though, despite all of my flaws and issues,” I confess.

Loki’s still facing the window, and hasn’t turned towards me.

“And all of these events brought you here to me,” he states, no question in his tone.

“Not just you,” I remind him, annoyed that he’s bringing himself into this.

“Tell me dear,” he goes on, ignoring me, “did your parents ever warn you about monsters? Things that hide in the dark?”

My stomach churns, and the air becomes thick. I feel cold all over, and then suddenly I feel a flash of heat.

“They did,” I stutter out, tongue feeling heavy in my mouth, “until they died.”

At this he finally turns towards me. I expect some sort of apology, for him to say he’s sorry like everybody else does. But he doesn’t, and I can’t help but feel relieved at this.

“What happened,” is what he says instead.

“Car accident,” I reply, before realizing he probably doesn’t know what that is.

“They were in an automobile that got hit by another and they didn’t survive it,” I rephrase.

“I see,” Loki replies, nodding his head at me.

Not knowing what to do, I stand there feeling awkward, and look for something to keep my hands busy. I notice that there are some things scattered on the kitchen island and decide they could use some organizing, my usual move when I’m anxious.

I move towards the kitchen, breaking the stillness of the room. I see Loki move towards the bookshelf out of the corner of my eye. He’s examining the books, running his fingers along the spines and quietly murmuring to himself. Probably reading titles.

I set to moving things to their proper place on the countertop. Cups into the cabinet, newspapers into a pile for the coffee table, etc.

While moving things I notice a few pens on the floor and bend to pick them up.

Behind me I hear a grunt, and something hit the floor. I stand up and turn towards the sound.

Loki’s standing there with a book on the ground in front of him. He’s looking down at it in surprise, and I notice the tips of his ears are pink.

“What happened,” I ask, confused.

“Um, nothing,” he replies, inarticulate for the first time since I met him.

He bends down and grabs the book off the floor, and I shrug my shoulders and continue organizing.

“Thor mentioned earlier that he offered to instruct you in the ways of the sword,” Loki begins.

“Yeah. He saw that I was training with Barton and Romanoff in various endeavors and offered to teach me. I told him I wasn’t sure how useful it would be, seeing as no humans really use swords today, but figured it couldn’t hurt,” I reply, unsure why he’s bringing it up.

“Sounds intriguing. I think it is something I would like to see,” he cajoles, smirking.

“Well why don’t you come sometime,” I offer, figuring it’s a good way to get him out of the apartment, possibly the only way.

“Maybe I will,” he responds simply.