Abashed the Devil Stood

"No! No! Absolutely not!" Fiona hissed, clutching wildly at her clothing.

The maids assigned to her room were trying to wrestle her clothes off her with little regard for her angry protests.

"I'm a grown woman! I'm perfectly capable of dressing myself!"

"Oh yes!" an older, plump looking woman crowed. "My lady is perfectly capable of dressing herself in the likes of a common ragamuffin!" She managed to pull Fiona's jeans off and another maid tugged her shirt up over her head until Fiona stood in nothing but her bra and panties. "And such shameful undergarments!" the woman - her name was Embla, Fiona remembered - clucked in disapproval. "Her Highness has entrusted you into my care, and I will see to it that you look a proper lady this evening. I'll not have you parading around in such rags in the presence of the All-Father."

Fiona sputtered indignantly. Rags? Sure they weren't designer or anything, but she thought she did well enough on a meager salary to afford a nice wardrobe. But apparently any female garment that had two legs was considered a fashion faux pas in Asgardian culture.

She didn't have too much time to dwell on it. Embla somehow managed to sneak up behind her, and Fiona let out a screech of protest as the maid ripped the underclothes off of her body and shoved her into a massive bathtub of what felt like boiling magma.

The next couple hours were some of the most unpleasant Fiona had ever experienced. She was scrubbed, brushed, combed, coiffed, primped, preened, poked and prodded by the small army of maids who seemed absolutely deaf to her refusals.

What seemed like an eternity later, Fiona caught a glimpse of herself in one of the mirrors adorning the halls as she walked past, and she started. She hardly recognized herself. While she had to admit that the corset gave her cleavage up to her chin and that the hairstyle they had chosen really did complement her shapely neck and décolletage, she wasn't entirely sure she liked it.

Still, she had to wonder if she had been a bit too churlish with the help. They had made her look like a princess, but she still had fundamental problems with the Asgardian standards of female behavior and beauty, not to mention the idea of someone in the 21st century still employing indentured servants. She was a modern, American woman after all, but she knew she'd have to keep most of her seemingly progressive Midgardian politics quiet if she truly wanted to engage in real diplomacy.

Her thoughts were cut short when she approached the main study where they were to hold their meeting.

Tony Stark and Steve Rogers were already waiting for her, both dressed in full Avengers regalia except for their head gear. Steve was leaning against a wall, politely refusing the drinks offered to him by a blushing serving girl. Stark, however, was sipping what she assumed was the Asgardian equivalent of a martini and flirting shamelessly with another vapid, giggling servant.

Before he saw her approach, Fiona had snatched the drink out of his hand and downed the rest of it in one gulp.

"Hey!"

"I needed it more than you did," she gasped, shuddering slightly at the afterburn of the potent alcohol. It was worth it, she thought, if it helped her forget the icy chill of those dungeons. "And don't encourage them." She gestured toward the serving girl, who was alternating between shooting Fiona dirty looks and fluttering her lashes at Tony. "I don't think Pepper would like the idea of you sowing your wild oats on another plane."

"Hey, what happens on Asgard stays in Asgard," Tony joked. But to his credit, he did distance himself from the pouting servant.

"Heya, Steve," she greeted, finally turning to say hello.

He nodded in response. "You look great."

She gave him a small smile. "Thanks. Feeling better?"

"Much."

With the Bifrost destroyed, Thor had used the power of the newly-reacquired Tesseract to teleport to Earth and had used the same method to bring Fiona, Stark, and Steve back with him. The double-journey was enormously tiring for Thor, and it seemed everyone but Fiona felt extremely nauseous after the journey. Although no one had actually thrown up, Tony was swaying slightly and Steve looked an almost deathly shade of green. The royal staff had whisked them off immediately to be pampered and fussed over, but Fiona had taken the opportunity to sneak off and start her early negotiation session with the imprisoned ex-Prince.

She grimaced. Tony and Steve would not be happy if they found out she had taken that little field trip down to the dungeons on her own...

Steve noticed her mood shift and was about to say something when the doors down the hall crashed open and Thor's booming voice poured out to greet them.

"My friends!"

Tony and Steve both visibly brightened as their comrade strode into the room, and they rushed forward to greet him. Fiona winced when he clapped them both on the back with enough force to send a normal man sprawling, but she figured it wasn't anything that super serum and metal suits couldn't handle. They exchanged all the friendly banter they had missed during the bustle of the previous day, but Thor soon turned to her with a friendly smile on his face.

"Lady Fiona." He took her hands in his. "You look radiant this day."

She blushed, but before she could form a response the doors to the main study opened with an ominous boom that sent the hall shaking, and an escort of royal guards stepped forward to usher them inside. She tugged at the hem of her waist, worrying the fabric with shaking fingers. A firm yet reassuring touch at her elbow stilled her nervous movement.

"Don't worry," Steve said at her side. "You look great."

She gave him a grateful smile as they emerged into the most elegant study Fiona had ever seen in her life.

The room was dark, but in a way that suggested twilit comfort rather than foreboding. The furniture scattered throughout the room looked well-worn and comfortable, but closer inspection revealed the detailed carvings that covered every surface. Everything seemed to be made of an entirely alien substance that was both metallic and organic at once. The high walls were lined with shelves and the shelves were filled with enough books and trinkets to keep a man occupied for a dozen lifetimes.

Tony let out a low whistle. "What I wouldn't give for ten minutes with his interior designer," he murmured. Steve nodded in assent, but they all fell silent as they approached the man behind the desk.

Odin sat comfortably in his high-backed chair, his single eye scanning a sheaf of paper. He wore a simple tunic rather than his full armor and he carried a small dagger sheathed at his side. Though he still struck an imposing figure with his eyepatch and grizzled countenance, Fiona got the feeling that this informality was a side of the king that few ever had the chance to see.

As they approached, he looked up from the parchment and dismissed the guards with an absent flick of his hand. He swung himself out of his chair and fixed his eye on each of them in turn.

"Warriors of Midgard!" he greeted, and Fiona immediately noticed the same forceful timbre in his voice that his son possessed. "Lady," he said more gently. His gaze seemed to linger on her for a moment before addressing the room once again. "I thank you for braving the path between worlds, and for your tidings of Midgard. I trust your stay has been pleasant?" They all gave low, general sounds of assent. "This is good. Now, we must attend to the matter at hand." He turned his single eye on her. "Lady Fiona." He beckoned her forward.

She swallowed hard and nodded slowly, stepping around Steve and Tony until she stood before the All-father. Although he wasn't nearly as tall as she had thought, he was still just as intimidating.

"Your hands." He extended his own, palm up, and she placed her hands in his.

She was surprised at how delicate his movements were as he gently turned her hands over, his calloused thumbs brushing lightly at her wrists.

"Look at me, child."

She raised her eyes slowly to meet his. It was easier than she had thought, especially since he only had one eye to focus on. As if sensing her thoughts, she saw a private smile tug at his mouth, pulling at the corners of his salt and pepper beard.

"There, see? There is no need to fear... mostly."

He was joking with her, she realized. Fiona felt a surge of relieved gratitude and spared a slightly queasy smile.

"You are well?" he asked, in a voice low enough that the others couldn't hear. She nodded. "This is good. I had feared... with the Tesseract..." He seemed to shake the thought from his head. "But never ye mind that. Tell me, have you met with Loki?"

Fiona nodded slowly.

"And did you reach an accord?"

She let her eyes drop to the ground. He recognized the defeat in her stance and sighed heavily.

"Loki is... troubled. He believes himself to be alone and treats all the Realms as his enemy. I feel that I must share some of the blame for this," and here Fiona could see a brief flash of pain cross his face, "but an agreement must be made for both your sakes."

He released her wrists with a quiet smile, letting her take a step back as he turned to address her friends.

"It was good of you to come. Thor was right to bring you here."

Thor beamed at his father's praise.

"We haven't a moment to spare. I fear her condition has worsened." That stole the smile clean off Thor's face.

"How long?" Tony asked, his voice tight and his eyes fixed firmly on Fiona.

"I cannot say. But if we are to persuade Loki, we must do it by tomorrow's end. Otherwise, we must consider the alternative -"

"That's not an option!" Steve growled with enough vehemence to make Fiona start at his tone.

Tony began to cut in with an equally upset tirade, and she could hear Thor over the sudden din saying, "Father, there must be another way, surely! She is but a girl and -"

"SILENCE!" Odin bellowed, and to her surprise, everyone actually froze mid-sentence to glare grudgingly up at him. "We have discussed these matters carefully, and I do not suggest it lightly. But there is no other way! You must understand that the precaution is necessary to save lives!"

Fiona could practically see the snarky one-liner forming on Tony's tongue but she stepped between all of them before he could get it out.

"Stop," she said firmly. "He's right."

"Fi," Steve cut in. "You can't do that. It's crazy! You're already reasoning with a war criminal, but this is just -"

"It has to be done," she said firmly. "We're not just talking about me here. We're talking about everyone. Everyone. I don't like it either, but I can't afford to be selfish with all these lives, including yours, on the table. It's my decision, and I've made it." Steve looked defeated as she turned to the All-Father, shoulders squared. "I accept your terms, Your Highness."

"Spoken like a warrior," Odin rumbled with approval, but Fiona couldn't help but notice his suddenly weary expression. He circled back around the desk and slumped heavily into his seat. "With your permission, I would like to make arrangements for the negotiations early tomorrow morning," he said, and Fiona nodded her assent. "This is good. We will start at daybreak. In the meantime, there will be a gathering in the hall this evening to celebrate your arrival. We welcome you at our table as honored guests, and the halls and people of Asgard are at your disposal until your return to Midgard. Now, if you would be so kind, I would like a moment in private with my son."

He dismissed them with a small wave and the host of guards swooped in to escort the three mortal guests from the room. Tony and Steve looked as though they were about to protest at their hasty dismissal, but they took one look at Fiona's expression and somberly closed in beside her as the guards corralled them out.

Before the huge doors boomed shut behind them, Fiona chanced one last glimpse back only to see both father and son watching her, their expressions somber.

She wished she hadn't looked.

~

Fiona tried her best to keep the gloom of the day's events out of her thoughts as she sat among the glittering revelry of Asgard's main feasting hall.

The sheer size of the place was staggering, and the opulence of the decor made even Stark Tower look like a three-star hotel.

Not that the tower was in anywhere near a fit state at the moment, Fiona thought. Tony had spent a small fortune on repairs but had directed all of the construction crews and funding to the surrounding areas of Manhattan first, so the tower was a still a rubble-strewn, shoddy mess.

As the All-Father's honored guests, they had taken a seat at the head of the hall, and Thor had introduced her to his friends The Warriors Three and Lady Sif. Fandral had immediately taken a shine to Fiona, and she had to politely turn down his repeated requests to dance. She insisted that she was merely tired from the journey, but she had the feeling her friends knew the truth.

Thor was loudly regaling her with tales of his bravado and misadventures alike. From the way Sif was rolling her eyes, Fiona could tell that this might be the thousandth telling with new embellishments at every repetition. Tony was always loud and crass when he'd had a few drinks too many, but Fiona could tell from the way his glance constantly strayed toward her end of the table that he was making an even larger ass of himself for her benefit. Steve, on the other hand, sat mostly silent at her side, sipping appreciatively at his tankard of ale, but letting his quiet presence reassure her with an occasional tug at her sleeve, reminding her of his comforting proximity.

She appreciated their kindness, she really did. But with the constant feeling of being watched and weighed by the other guests and the looming fate that threatened her very existence, she could only take small solace in her friends' comfort. There was too much at stake for the time being to just flippantly ignore-

A sudden alien sensation interrupted her thoughts. Something foreign yet strangely familiar brushed lightly at the back of her mind, pulling her thoughts into sharp focus as she inspected the psychic intrusion. It was subtle. She had the distinct feeling that whoever had sent it didn't realize she could sense its presence. Her eyes darted warily around the room, and she felt Steve tense beside her.

"What is it?" he whispered, his eyes already mapping out the exits.

"Not sure... Hold on. Trying to find it."

The words left her mouth in a hasty tumble as she spared only the barest concentration on a reply, focusing instead on tracing the source of the probe which had suddenly begun to dissipate. Fiona gritted her teeth as her mind struggled to hold onto the evasive thread, a task that was suddenly becoming difficult as it retreated. It was like trying to grab a slippery bar of soap - but one that darted away like a fish in water and grew smaller with each passing second.

A loud boom rang through the hall, shattering her concentration, and the psychic trail fizzled out completely before she could regain her composure. She cursed, looking up in abject frustration to find the source of this interruption.

She recognized one of Heimdall's gilded guards scurrying toward the All-Father's throne, and the large hall doors which had broken her concentration were being held open behind him. The man bowed before the king's throne and rushed forward to speak with him in urgent, hurried whispers.

Without knowing why, Fiona had a feeling that whatever they were discussing and whatever presence she had just sensed in the hall were not unrelated. That theory only solidified when the king turned and fixed his eye on her, his expression unreadable. She sucked in a quiet breath through her teeth and gave a slow, visible nod, rising deliberately from her seat.

Steve, of course, was on his feet in a moment, but she was surprised to see Tony and Thor were already at her side, their looks of concern mirroring Steve's.

"What is it?" Tony asked. Fiona was impressed; the effects of the alcohol were seemingly gone from his system in an instant. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure," Fiona replied, starting to tense as she felt the eyes of the room shift toward their small group. She saw the guard trying to catch her eye from the edge of the hall and nodded toward him. "Let's find out."

As they made their way through the crowd, Fiona was acutely aware of everyone's eyes boring into her and the low murmurs starting to ripple through the hall. They met the guard at the far wall, and he gave a low bow.

"My Lady, My Lords," he said, his voice low in an urgent whisper.

"What's happened?" Fiona demanded.

"The Prince requests an immediate audience."

Steve and Tony glanced at Thor in confusion, oblivious to Fiona's sudden silence.

"The... other Prince, My Lords."

The group fell into a tense silence, and even the seasoned Asgardian warrior before them shifted uncomfortably in the wake of the menacing looks coming from Tony and Steve. Fiona glanced behind them and noticed that the murmur of the crowd had grown louder as heads started to crane in their direction.

"We should see what he wants, then," she said, tilting her head meaningfully toward the restless crowd. "Quickly."

He bowed politely and ushered them quickly from the hall as every gaze in the room followed their path through the hall and out the door, none with more concern or worry than the All-Father himself.