Chapter Text
Aristos on East 43rd Ave brewed a ridiculously good cup of tea. It was a magic Wanda couldn’t replicate no matter how many attempts she made. Maria joined her on the postage stamp New Yorkers called a terrace with a cup of her own. “This is divine. How do they make hot-leaf-water taste like this?”
She feels herself grin. Maria usually drank the same tar as all the other military twats, and when she felt self-indulged it was inevitably Meyer’s Mexican Mocha. “I am tempted to claim it’s witchcraft.”
Maria raises an eyebrow; it was a provocative statement but she doesn’t feel the need to explain. The Barista and her boy-Friday were the most darling little Goth children Wanda had ever seen and if they are dabbling, it’s the harmless sort.
Marie thought of Wanda’s abilities as a sort of intuitive manipulation of physical laws humans did not yet recognize. She might be right, but onward and upward “So, did you ask him?”
Maria’s challenging stare relaxed into something that resembled contentment mixed with satisfaction. “I did.”
“And?” Wanda was still adjusting to having normal relationships. Locked up in the Sokovia Castle since she was nine and then in the Avenger’s Tower until she sided with Captain America in his rejection of the Sokovia Accords, she still felt lost in most personal interactions. Maria had become her benchmark. The woman was ferociously competent but equally ready to admit when she was out of her depth. In this moment Wanda felt like a flailing teenager but that had to be okay. “Oh, come on -- spill sister!”
“It was very nice.”
“Nice?” Wanda squeaked. “Nice -- then he said yes?”
“It took some persuading.”
“And?”
“And you should have seen their faces” Maria was gloating. Wanda had limited exposure to the one percent but they had not been kind; Maria had even less flattering things to say about New York’s upper crust.
“I wish I had. Are you going to see him again?”
“Of course, I’ll see him, he’s pretty hard to miss.”
Maria was teasing her and that called for a little revenge. “Well if you’re not that interested, maybe I should ask him out.”
The dreamy look on Maria’s face fled. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
***
James felt eyes on their little group. Bryant park was supposed to be open to the public but the knot of young African American men and their hostile stares at the three young men playing frisbee made his skin crawl.
He was sitting on a blanket Teddy had brought with a basket packed by Billy’s mom and two knapsacks. Setting up in the shade on such a fine day was a concession made to the long sleeve shirt and gloves James wore in public. It was Saturday morning and logic had been to enjoy the park before it got too crowded. The group on the side walk indicated this was a miscalculation, originally three dumpy if overly tall 20 somethings had found something that seemed to fascinate them. Now there were seven and at least two of those in their 40’s and pretty fit 40 at that. As James watched, two families hastily pack up their stuff and left the Park with nervous backward glances. Leaving him to consider that today’s Brooklyn might not be so different from narrow minded Borough he remembered. In his day the economic competition between Negros and the Irish had settled to a low boil but the historical anger and resentment had still run deep.
The boys had been having a good time, shirtless and sweating they focused on their game, adjusting their positions a couple of times when they got too close to someone’s blanket or when someone strolled across the green, oblivious to the plastic disk hurtling through the air.
Even without his shirt Peter wore the bracers that anchored his web-slinging. Thin black leather decorated with beveled copper studs covering the titanium splints for stability and the small reservoir’s containing Peter’s unspun webbing. They looked cool if totally decorative. James had seen other men wearing leather a lot more ridiculous in the East Village.
James felt a thread of resentment start to gain traction. They weren’t doing anything that should be objectional. Billy and Teddy hung on each other a little bit but nothing that was overtly sexual, so what was this hostility about? A white cargo van pulled up to the group and James held his breath. However, the men ignored the van completely and after a momentary flash of relief, that gave James something else to worry about.
Two more young men joined the group, and the muttering rose in volume and they stepped onto the grass. Getting to his feet James pulled off the glove covering his metal hand.
At the same moment Peter miscalculated a jump and missed his catch, the spurt of web however caught the disk reeling it back in to Peter’s hand. The men froze in their tracks, jaws dropping in shock. Peter landed on his feet a hot blush staining his face, and looking right at James as if embarrassed.
“That’s effing Spiderman you dope.”
“Nope, no, and hell no” said another “he rescued the preacher’s wife from a mugger.”
The voices got softer and more heated as young men peeled away from the group. The group was down to five when the side door on the van popped open and two undercover cops got out. Undercover because they were dressed like civilians but they didn’t swagger like paid professionals and their posture was too sloppy for Feds, they did sport that take no shit from undermench common to law enforcement everywhere.
“Is there a problem guys?”
“No sir” said one.
“Just taking a walk” said another.
“Good” said the balding Pisano. “Cause we heard there were some haters prowling the park. You guys be careful. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to our fellow citizens on such a lovely day.”
“It’s good to see familiar faces back in the neighborhood” said the ginger. “We want to keep seeing you, okay.”
James sat back down in shock, maybe the Borough had changed.
He was putting his gloves back on when the boys came trotting up. “Sorry” said Peter. “It was a reflex move.”
Billy and Teddy stopped short on their approach, looking from James to Peter and back again in confusion, and then Peter winked at him.
“I think we can overlook this one time” James said. “Who’s hungry?”
***
Harley looked at the report the engineering department sent him about Peter’s polymer. They had some reservations but overall it was a go. A second file marked ‘urgent’ appeared in his que and he opened the description of a mining device that functioned using focused sound waves. The schematics were labeled in runic script and his heart sank a little bit. He struggled with regular English but he was clearly going to have to learn Aesir if they were going to continue collaborating. However, the ‘Urgent’ wasn’t going to give him time for that.
“Friday, do we have and English to Aesir dictionary?”
“Aesir is a mythical race described in Norse mythology there is no description of the language they might have spoken.” Friday could be too literal sometimes
“Do we have any language texts for New Asgard?”
“The people of Asgard own a technology called All Speak that automatically translates between persons speaking different languages.”
“Can it translate written forms of Asgard into English?”
“I have no record of written text being translated by such a device.”
“Friday, do we have a list of Norse runes and their translation?”
“We do.”
“Please display a holographic image.”
Tony’s worktable bloomed with multi colored images. The translations on the left were a uniform color and size. On the right the runes appeared in various colors, some rotated and others appeared to be multidimensional. “Friday, is the holograph matrix correctly aligned?”
“Imaging software is operating at 99% efficiency.”
“Do you see what I am seeing?”
“The runes are not two-dimensional representations” Friday declared. “Analyzing!”
“Oh, wow”
Harley had been a fan of Norse Mythology since he was little. As he studied the runes more details became visible and one notable rune was missing. “Friday, abort analysis.”
The hologram dimmed, flickered, brightened, and then began to grow. “Friday, emergency shutdown, protocol scarecrow!”
The lab went black.
It took two hours to evacuate the tower and Harley felt like a wreck. Pepper was pacing like a caged lion while she used a burner cell phone to coordinate with security staff. Morgan was with her nannies in one corner of the banquet room and pouting at the disruption of her day. Since it was Saturday, the number of staff inside the Tower was minimal, unfortunately that meant no one was 100% sure that everybody was accounted for. Add to that, the media had gotten wind of a story and news teams were roaming the plaza and surrounding blocks looking for sources of information.
Lord Tyr arrived from his residence and stood patiently waiting for Pepper to finish her instructions. “Use the stairs, I want every room and every elevator car searched.” She disconnected the call, and stood still scanning the room.
Satisfied that everyone in her immediate orbit was accounted for she turned to Asgard’s representative. “Lord Tyr, thank you for interrupting your plans.”
“Of course, Ms. Potts, how can I be of service?”
“Harley, can you describe events for Lord Tyr.”
“I received the schematics for a sonic excavator this morning and was trying to translate the runic notes.”
Tyr nodded “that was ambitious, I didn’t know you were interested in languages.”
“Not so much, but the English text wasn’t really comparable to the diagrams. Our AI didn’t have access to a dictionary or any means of translation, so we pulled up an academic translation of the Norse runes.” Harley was still trying to wrap his mind around what he saw and the memory was giving him a headache.
“Are you alright young man?”
“My head hurts” and for the second time today, the room went black.
Harley woke up. The ceiling was unfamiliar as were the silky sheets against his skin. A blurry face peered down at him, and it was a moment before his eyes focused enough to see it was a girl about his age. The combs in her golden hair were elaborately decorated with enamel flowers, but she was wearing a cardigan over a white blouse. “Where?”
“This is Lord Tyr’s apartment and I am Hati. Tyr wants to talk to you once the room stops spinning.”
Spinning, yeah, the room wasn’t exactly holding still. “Did I faint or something?”
“Tyr will know. Would you like some water?”
“Yes, please.” She turned to a decanter on the window sill and he paused to admire her figure. He was just planting his hands on the mattress to sit up when he realized all the places the sheets were touching.
Hati turned back around with a tumbler in her hand, and he pulled the sheets up to his chin.
“You should sit up.”
“I’m fine.”
“She looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled radiantly. “Oh, the nudity taboo. Your folk are not very consistent. Some walk around nude anytime the weather permits and others cover everything but their eyes. Why is that?”
The last thing Harley wanted to discuss was why people got naked. “Where are my clothes?”
“Tyr had them destroyed.”
“What? Why?”
The door panel slid aside and Tyr stood there. “Because you had a brush with an interdimensional being and the residue on your garments was intransigent.”
“What?”
Switching to spoke English Tyr said “it’s complicated. We have a team in route to cleanse Stark Tower. You will be traveling to the refuge where skilled healers can set you to rights.”
“The Refuge? You mean Asgard, I’m going to freaking New Asgard?”
“It will not be that unpleasant.” Tyr frowned.
“No, no. I didn’t mean it that way. How long can I stay?”