Abashed the Devil Stood

The next morning, Fiona awoke feeling oddly refreshed and accomplished.

She had done it! She'd managed to seal the deal and now there was some hope for the future... even if said future would exist almost solely in the company of a petulant man-child who despised her. Even so, she was alive and that was what mattered! And she'd be damned if she let the Prince's harsh words ruin a perfectly good morning...

Until she remembered that her friends would be leaving today.

She let herself flop back onto the ridiculously soft pillows with a groan. She had completely forgotten. And now Embla would be in any second to-

Right on cue, the door to her room slammed open, making her jump slightly, and Embla stepped in with an even larger entourage of maids.

"Good morning, Milady," Embla said, eyeing her like a chicken about to be plucked. "We have been sent to prepare you for the coming festivities."

Fiona gritted her teeth and the maids pounced.

It passed much the same as yesterday afternoon, except that this time she simply lay back and let it happen. Embla seemed to think that she had tamed Fiona and grinned smugly at her in the mirror as she wove Fiona's hair into an elegant plait. Never once did it occur to her that her friends' soon-to-be departure was the cause of the girl's weary placidity.

Hours later, Fiona emerged from her chambers looking melancholy but ethereal in her beauty all the same.

Her thoughts clearly consumed her as the small host of guards escorted her down the massive halls of the Asgardian palace. She had no idea how she was supposed to face Tony and Steve in her current state. They had been her constant companions since she had taken up residence at Stark tower to recover from SHIELD's extensive tests. During their trip to Asgard she had clung to them even more, being the only other Earth residents on this side of the cosmos. What was she supposed to do without them?

But then she entered the drawing room where her friends sat waiting for her. She took one look at their worried expressions and made a hasty decision, changing her pensive frown into a wry smirk.

"You boys look like someone took a whiz in your wine goblets."

They eyed her warily, and Tony finally spoke in a tight voice. "I'm leaving my girlfriend's buddy on another world in the hands of a known mass murderer. I'm looking at a lot of nights on the couch, here, so I think I'm allowed to be a bit on edge."

Fiona rolled her eyes at him. "Pepper knew why we were coming here. She knew that I might have to stay, and I think she's strong and smart enough to prepare herself for that possibility. Besides, moping around all day isn't going to make it better."

"Well, it can't make it any worse," Tony grumbled.

"So melodramatic, Tony," Fiona huffed, flinging herself down into the nearest chair. "Steve! Tell Tony he's being a drama queen."

A slight smile twitched at the corner of Steve's lips, but he quickly masked it with a cough. "Well, I can't say it, because I kind of agree with him," he said.

Fiona groaned and slumped back against the chair's downy cushions, throwing an arm theatrically over her face. "You're all against me! It's a den of vipers!"

"Now who's being melodramatic?" Steve quipped.

Fiona peeked out from under her arm to stick her tongue out at him, but she was pleased to see that his small smile had returned.

"Well on a different note, I'm supposed to remind you to get into your gear. There's a parade starting soon, and we're supposed to be in it."

Steve visibly brightened.

"A parade?"

"Well, I think the word they used was 'procession'. But hey, to-may-to, to-mah-to."

Steve gave a heavy sigh and disappeared behind a changing screen, while Tony simply pushed a button on the Iron Man suitcase on the nearby table and let the suit manifest over his clothing. Steve emerged from the screen in his gear just as Tony's helmet clicked into place, and he eyed the suit enviously.

"When are you going to make me an auto-suit?"

Tony flipped up his visor and eyed him with amusement.

"When you decide to join the 21st century and ditch the spandex, Gramps."

Steve looked down at his uniform and frowned. Fiona laughed.

"Oh, leave him alone, Tony. And let's find you a drink. You get snarky when you don't have your morning cocktail."

On cue, a servant appeared bearing a heavily laden food cart, and Stark all but pounced on the flask of honey-colored alcohol sitting at the center. Fiona thanked the stuttering youth who had dropped off the cart, and he blushed profusely before stumbling back out into the hall. Steve watched the exchange with mild amusement and helped himself to a heaping plate of bacon.

"You'd better leave some of that for me," Fiona threatened, and he sheepishly replaced a good third of the plate.

They only had a short time to savor the food, however, before an armed host entered the room to guide them to the head of the procession. Steve had already finished his small mountain of breakfast, but Tony looked wistfully back at the half-empty jug of alcohol as they followed their escort into the hall.

It was odd, Fiona thought later, sitting between Tony and Steve in one of the open palanquins leading the incredibly crowded parade. She knew Stark got off on the limelight and Steve was probably used to it from all his campaigning during WWII, but she had always hated being the center of attention for as long as she could remember. So it came as a huge surprise when she actually found herself smiling and waving back at some of the more ardent admirers.

And, boy, were there some good-looking admirers.

By the time the procession had reached the halfway mark, they'd had to change out the palanquin bearers and carry away the enormous pile of flowers and trinkets that had been thrown up onto the platform. The crowd and their constant assault of favors and shouted compliments seemed to never end, and it was enough to make Fiona blush in embarrassed pride.

She looked to either side to see how her boys were taking all this attention and smiled. Tony, as usual, was stirring up the females in the crowd with his flirty winks and blown kisses. Steve, on the other hand, waved politely and smiled that trademark toothy grin of his, but seemed to be garnering just as much female attention as Stark. Fiona knew his hunky frame and those meet-your-parents manners of his made him a heartthrob back on Earth, and apparently on Asgard as well.

But it was what everyone else didn't see that made her smile. Although Tony was living it up at the moment, it was a far cry from the uncontrollably hedonistic Tony Stark that she had seen in the media before Pepper came into his life. Fiona knew Stark was too crazy about Pepper to back up any of those suggestive gestures and was merely working his well-established playboy persona for the crowd. Even Steve, who had an almost unnoticeable flush of pleasure creeping up the back of his neck, was holding back from his usual display of patriotic gusto; after half a century, he had finally realized how apt his new body was for pulling in the opposite sex, and he often used his newly discovered wiles (albeit more subtly than Stark) to garner female attention for his cause. Fiona had a feeling that his subdued attitude had more to do with a certain waitress back on Earth than any displeasure with the supermodel-esque women of Asgard.

Steve caught her smug grin as he glanced over, and he gave her a puzzled look.

"What?" he said, self-consciously.

She shook her head, still smiling. "Nothing."

It was clear they were nearing the end of the procession, as the crowds thickened considerably. As they stepped from the litter, Fiona stopped to thank each of the bearers in turn, and then turned to meet the crowd, reeling with the sheer number of people. The throng was just as ecstatic as ever, and the guards struggled to hold everyone back as favors fell at their feet by the dozens.

She turned to Tony, and had to shout to be heard over the crowd. "Is this how it usually is for you?"

"Sometimes!" He hollered back. "But this one is right up there!"

The guards escorted them through the crowd, keeping everyone at a distance, but their shouts and cheers only grew louder. Stark and Steve pressed closer to her, unconsciously shielding her from either side. The air hung heavy and turgid with the feel of thousands of bodies occupying the same space, and everyone was charged with excitement and happiness... And something else.

It was hard, but she managed to block out the distractions of the crowd, and her eyes darted around warily before she finally caught it: the same psychic scent from earlier. She smirked and sent out her own thread toward the source.

Spying is a rude hobby, Loki.

She felt a vague twinge of snide annoyance in response, before the connection receded. Her lips twisted in wry satisfaction just as they neared the clearing.

The servants, it seemed, had been hard at work preparing the area at the edge of the forest for the coming feast. The largest clearing was for the important guests, where she and Tony and Steve would sit, and hundreds of benches and tables had been set up in the grass, fanning out around the main clearing in all directions. Colorful silks, ribbons, and twinkling bells hung from tree branches and tent canopies, sighing and singing softly in the breeze. Fiona felt herself relaxing as she inhaled the fragrant smell of forest flowers and pine needles. This was exactly what she needed after the close press of bodies.

Their entourage steered them toward the central clearing, and they sat at one of the central-most tables. Waiting for the rest of the crowd to be seated didn't take nearly as long as Fiona had thought, and soon servants were passing around flagons of mead and spiced wine as the queen approached a platform that had been erected in the middle of the throng.

"My friends," she said warmly, and some magic of acoustics carried her voice to the crowd. "Before we begin the feast, a toast! To allies new and old. To the mutual prosperity of our realms. To bonds forged anew."

It seemed to Fiona that the queen's gaze lingered on her at those last words, but her eyes were sweeping across the crowd when she raised her glass, and all in the clearing did the same, echoing her words. Fiona could only whisper her assent before raising her own flagon of wine to her lips.

She didn't have much time to brood as the feast got into full swing.

The previous evening, her appetite and her good humor were all but nonexistent, but both returned with her diplomatic triumph. She realized she was ravenous after her nervous, scant meals the past few days, but she at least had the restraint to limit herself to a bite or two from each tray offered to their table. She didn't know if it was the joy of her success or the skill of the cooks, but the night's cuisine seemed more delicious than ever.

Apparently, the tradition in Asgard was to send certain dishes and vintage drinks to the table of a favored lord or lady. As the honored guests of the feast, Fiona, Steve, and Tony were constantly receiving tokens from other guests, and their table began to sink slightly under the weight of all the food. It wasn't until Thor suggested that they send some of their own food back in thanks that Fiona (and the table) started to really relax. Thor leaned in.

"Should you wish it, you may send favors to the smallfolk to gain favor," he said in a low voice. "It is a great honor to receive from the most decorated table."

Fiona gave him a puzzled look. "Why do I need to gain favor with anyone?"

Thor shuffled nervously, unease apparent in every inch of his hulking frame. He seemed to choose his next words carefully. "There are ancient laws among our people that forbid the presence of mortals for longer than a fortnight. The only exception would be a resident envoy of Midgard - a... hostage, of sorts," he clarified at her questioning look, his discomfort only growing.

"And by helping me, your father is breaking his own rules."

Thor nodded solemnly, and Fiona's face fell into a pensive frown. As if to confirm Thor's words, she suddenly noticed that all the eyes on their table weren't necessarily friendly. That won't do at all, she thought. But her hand shot out a moment later to beckon a passing servant.

"Could you please have a portion of each plate sent to the palanquin bearers and their families?" she said. "And something to drink as well. I'm sure they're thirsty after lugging Mr. Stark in his armor." Tony looked up at his name and stuck out his tongue. The servant merely nodded, eyes wide, and turned to leave, but Fiona beckoned the boy closer. "And please have something nice sent to the Prince. I'm not sure what he likes..."

"Roast pork and potatoes and mead," Thor interjected, eyeing her warily, "though I do not believe this a wise-"

"That'll be fine," she interrupted. "Please have that sent to Prince Loki's cell. In... thanks for his future services."

The serving boy's eyes were now the size of saucers. "Y-yes, my Lady... right away, my Lady."

Thor watched his retreating back with apprehension. "My brother will not show gratitude. He sees nothing but spite and lies."

"Then I'll have to do it more often," she replied calmly, "So he knows I mean it." Thor shook his head, but she just smiled. "Come on, no more worrying. Let's enjoy the feast."

So they did. At least until the plates had been cleared, and a page came to escort the four of them to the front, where their bags had been assembled. Then, Fiona felt her stomach tie itself into apprehensive knots and she struggled to paste a smile on her face for her friends' sake. She barely heard the Queen thanking Tony and Steve, and she hardly registered the absurdity of the All-Father's statement when he handed Thor a small bag, claiming it contained "a variety of gifts for the ambassadors of Midgard".

The only thing that brought her back to reality was when Heimdall appeared with the Tesseract. Suddenly, she couldn't have been more attentive and her eyes were glued to the cube with rapt attention. Funny, she thought. She had hardly cared about it when she'd taken her first trip across the universe. But now it seemed to have some strange allure that called silently out to her.

Fiona's attention flicked guiltily back to her friends when Thor wrapped her in an almost delicate hug.

"Be safe," she implored. "It's a long way."

Thor's voice was reassuring. "I will see you upon my return. Be well. And... patient."

She had to wait for Tony's armor to partially disassemble before giving him a hug.

"Take care of yourself," he said, in an uncharacteristically serious voice. "And send the big lug back for us if you need to."

"I'll be fine," she replied. "Say hi to Pepper for me. Tell her I said not to be too hard on you."

When she got to Steve, her voice and face went stern as he encased her in a one-armed embrace.

"Steve Rogers," she whispered. "The second you get back to Earth, you are going to ask that waitress out on a proper date."

Whatever he'd been expecting her to say as a goodbye, it wasn't that. She could see a flush creeping into his neck and the tips of his ears, and he seemed to have forgotten whatever he was going to say. Tony was watching them curiously as his suit reassembled itself, clearly interested in Steve's reaction.

"I mean it," she insisted. "That's my going-away present, and I'll be really mad if Thor comes back and tells me you haven't."

Steve shot her a sheepish smile as he stepped back. "Scout's honor."

And then Heimdall was ushering her back to a safe distance with the rest of the royal entourage, and she peered around his large frame to get a last glimpse of her friends. Steve and Tony both waved and Thor nodded in their direction, his hands full with the bag and the entrancing glow of the Tesseract. Fiona waved back, but her stoic mask slipped for a moment at the look on their faces. Suddenly, she felt panicked. She was the only human left on this planet. What was she going to do without her friends?

A whiplike crack cut through the air, and a blinding flash erupted from the small cube. A heavy pulse of power burst from the Tesseract, staggering or knocking over many of the onlookers in the crowd. Fiona, who somehow instinctively knew to ride the wave of energy, was one of the few people besides the king and queen who remained standing, and she stared with growing melancholy at the space that her friends had occupied only moments before. Even with the crowd roaring appreciatively at her back, she suddenly felt incredibly alone.