Summary:Astryd finally meets with Steve to discuss the situation Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Astryd has a small problem. Well, that depends on how you look at it. To some it could be a large problem, but in the scope of things she's dealing with, this is … small. Or it could be.
She's sent a politely worded invitation to the other person who is affected by this problem asking them to meet for a chat and a light meal at the Stonewall Inn.
The tall, stern, blonde - who is a lot paler than normal - is sitting at a table, reading what looks to be a collection of … fairytales.
The other blond, also tall and stern if more broadly built and at perpetual peak of health, arrives at the Inn with no fanfare. Sporting a Dodgers baseball cap as a plea for anonymity, Steve nods to the bartender with no overt display of emotion but for a small smile. They don't know him here and that's fine by him. He spots Astryd quickly enough and makes it way over.
As he sits, he brings with him a whiff of cologne, the leather of his shearling-lined jacket worn against cold, and the winter air of the city. "Miss Astryd," says the Captain politely as he settles back into his chair. His true-blue eyes fall from her to the book and back up to her face. "Something about those simple bedtimes stories I should know about?"
It's possibly no wonder that Fenris had asked if Steve had reminded Astryd of a Norse warrior she once he knew. He's certainly built enough for that.
"Captain Rogers. Thank you for joining me and just Astryd, please. I don't think I've been a 'Miss' in a millenia." She might be pale but she's still got her sense of humour.
Glancing at the book, the woman shrugs a little. Norse tales in this case. "Perhaps. There's always a modicum of truth in them - the stories had to start somewhere. Straight to the point I see, though."
The waiter comes by and leaves some menus on the table, he's not inclined to stay too long - something about Astryd puts him off. Speaking of which, Glydril stirs on Steves back - she's none too happy either. The Valkyr has an aura about her.
Astryd's comment has the blond man smiling with a hint of remorse. "Pardon, Astryd, 'm used to not beating around the bush. Buck would swat my arm." Still, he winces and looks off to one side. A moment and then he's reaching back to rub at the base of his neck, his fingers sweeping out over the plating of his shoulderblade.
"Easy now, girl, easy, she's good people," he murmurs almost to himself, but mostly to Glydril itching at his spine. "Neutral territory here." Rolling his shoulders is a motion almost feline and as if he were warding off some impending tension — true enough as it stands. His attention returns to Astryd. "I recommend the soup 'nd bread bowl, if you haven't eaten here before. Otherwise, it's pub grub, everything's good."
"It's refreshing, Captain. Not everyone is and you and I … we've got off on rocky start." There's amusement in her eyes as she cants her head. "Buck - is your partner? They may be right to but it's something I prefer."
"Soup and bread bowl it is." Her grey eyes watch the super soldier as he tries to calm something. "Your … dragon? She is unsual. See, I can be direct as well. I can't pull my aura in, I'm afraid and she's going to have to get used it. I fear you and I may be in each others orbits for a while."
"Which is why I invited you here and didn't just summon you." Because she absolutely could.
"Yes, I appreciate not being summoned. Kind of hard to have a quiet lunch when 'm in full gear," Steve notes with a wry smile. He picks up a menu and looks over it with mild interest. "'nd Buck wouldn't've appreciated it. He's my husband 'nd he's not pleased with the whole business. That's what you wanted to discuss, right?"
Again, Glydril gets to fussing and a harder gleam goes through the Captain's eyes. He reaches back again and appears to massage at the base of his neck again. "'s'okay, girl, really," comes the whisper. "She means no harm."
Astryd makes no effort to calm the Dragon. Perhaps she knows she'll only make it worse. "It's not something I'm proud of, Captain nor something I wished to happen. We are both unwitting victims here - you, more than me, I will agree."
"I can't say I blame your husband for being displeased. I wouldn't be pleased if it were my … partner … consort … being summoned. Especially by a warrior like blonde." The humour is there, just under the surface.
"And yes, I thought we should talk because for the while, we're likely to be stuck with the situation as is. You are … bound to me, to my power to call warriors from beyond and given the adventure Fenris and I are about to embark on, it's possible you *will* be called more than once."
"Buck isn't the jealous sort," Steve reassures the woman across the table from him. "It's more the premise of having no choice in the matter 'nd the inability to predict it. If you had any influence on how I somehow managed to show up prepared for the worst, that's appreciated by us both."
The waiter stops by with two waters and orders are put in. Steve orders a soup and bread bowl, perhaps to no surprise. He waits until the waiter leaves with the menus to continue speaking, his attention flicking back to Astryd with keen if polite intensity. "Nice of you to call whatever you're up to an 'adventure'. Since I might show up, what're you thinking you'll come up against?"
"It's good to know he's not jealous and please be assured, Captain, that I would never have bound you without your permission." She might have bound him, but it would be by mutual consent. "With some practice … and familiarity of each other … we should be able to have better control over the call. I can't say that I've ever bound a Midgardian warrior to me." She grins. "At least. Not like this."
Cheeky thing.
"An adventure. A Quest. Call it what you will. If I am honest, it's become our focus. We seek to nudge Fate so my Lord doesn't become the Destroyer and eat the Sun, bringing on Ragnarok and the end of us all."
She sighs. How much of Ragnarok does Steve know and of the Valkyries part in it, she wonders.
"Any number of things. Creatures of myth and legend for yourself, most like. I walk the Underworlds, Captain Rogers, and most things you see in these books I have met in person."
Steve's ears pink at the insinuation even despite his legendary self-control; Irish blood will always out in the end. He leans back in his chair again, hands rested at his belt buckle, and listens to Astryd's explanation.
With chiseled chin leading his nod, he sighs through his nose. "Know enough about Ragnarok to know it's something to be avoided. You 'nd your Lord're up to your ears in it — figure if that's your focus, it's not some bedtime story. I remember the last time I waded into one of your scuffles."
One boot scuffs under the table in a fidget. "Looks like the Grimm Brothers got a few things right in the end. Buck'll appreciate reading up on things; we'll look through some of the collections of older fairy tales then, since you seem to be doing the same. Might see Buck too at one point, if I have the sense to grab him by the shirt 'nd drag him through whatever portal I usually walk through. Might as well prep him too."
"Bring your husband for dinner, one night, Captain. Fenris and I extend Guest Right to you and yours. It is the least I can do." Astryds noted the pinkening ears and smirks just a bit. For all her stern countenance and pale complexion (at the moment), she's as hot blooded as most Asgardians.
"Up to our ears in it. That's an interesting way to look at it. We aren't … at least not in the way the sagas tell and don't wish to be."
"Try the Poetic Edda or the Prose Edda by Snorri Sturluson. He got a lot wrong, but he got a lot right as well. There's been enough wandering Midgard for millenia, that we've managed to tweak and nudge tales to suit us." That's saying something. "You may want to make sure you have cold iron and holy water at your disposal. That will affect some of what we may face but not all."
It's a start.
She's thoughtful as the food arrives, sitting back to let the server place it on the table in front of her. "I should be able to 'nudge' you, to give you an indication you're about to be called - as long as the situation isn't so dire, I'm not trying to summon a host of Einherjar to fight by my side."
"I'll pass on word," replies Steve as to the invitation to dinner. Bucky likely won't say no, especially after being treated to Astryd's leftovers more than once. When she gets to suggesting titles, out comes a small notepad from the interior pocket of the Captain's jacket as well as a pencil. It opens to a fresh page and he writes these names down as well as the importance of both cold iron and holy water. A little frown knits his brows. Sticking the pencil into place as somewhat of a bookmark, he places the small spiral notebook to one side.
Food arrives and something in the man relaxes. Perhaps he'd been more hungry than he was letting on; the serum does burn calories fiercely even at rest. "Would appreciate the nudge." His tone is earnest. "That way, I can see about bringing another helping hand. Buck has the same problem I do with troublemakers, especially ones interested in wrecking this world, much less another." He means Asgard by proxy.
The pencil and notepad gets a raised pale brow. "Not one who subscribes to modern technology, Captain? You and Fenris will get on well." Astryd grins as she starts to partake of the soup. It's delicious and Steve gets a nod of approval.
"As best I can, Captain. I'm not making any promises, this is as new to you as it is me and until we can find a … cure … we're stuck with it."
"Now. Do you have any questions of me? I mean, we barely know each other." And there it is again, that little smirk.
"Any questions…" Replying on a breath that must have been a redirected sigh — such a long-suffering sigh, goodness — Steve looks down at his own bread bowl full of clam chowder. His spoon stirs through it a number of times before he glances up at Astryd again.
"Glad to hear I'll get along with this Fenris of yours. Figure a nudge is going to be something like…a tap on the shoulder? Gut sense? Know enough about intuition to pay attention to it. 'nd 'm not gonna sit here 'nd pretend to know everything, so…what're you getting into that requires cold iron 'nd holy water? I know from the bedside stories «Mathair» told me that cold iron's for faeries…?"
"I assume it will be a sense for you. That you're being called to service. I'm sure if you concentrate hard enough, you can sense me even now …" Astryd answers, watching the super soldier as he processes.
With an elegant lift of her shoulder, the blonde shakes her head. "I'm telling you I'm getting you into things beyond your wildest imagination. We'll be walking paths of the dead that haven't seen new inhabitants for several millenia, religions that passed from mans memories when the world was still young. What lurks there are memories of the Gods and Beings that look after them - not all are bad but most … are."
"Cold Iron is best known for its effectiveness against Faeries. Would it be that it was something simple I expect to encounter." Something so simple. Faeries really aren't, Steve would know that from the tales and yet compared to what Astryd is expecting to see, they are.
"I am going to try and twist Fate so it never touches my Lord again."
Absolutely: the Captain, even with eyes closed, knows that Astryd is nearby…and if he didn't, Glydril certainly would, and she'd no doubt react in spades when surprised. She's gone quieter now, banked coals set to flare at the least suspicious moment.
Steve sets aside his spoon for a moment to sip at his water. After returning it to the condensation ring left on the table, he dries his fingers in a crinkle of paper napkin. "'m not scared of much, so…whatever's out there is gonna have to deal with me 'nd maybe Buck. This whole business about twisting Fate?" Astryd is given a searching look, patient and yet intense. "You gone about weighing the off-chance of bad results from it?"
Astryd sighs. If it wasn't for the curse that Fenris has been keeping at bay by bleeding her, she wouldn't even consider this as an option. "You sound like Fenris. We've been nudging Fate here and there for centuries now and it's not stopped those who sit above in shadows trying to bring us back onto the path."
"There are artifacts they use, those who sit above in shadows, to achieve this. It is those I'm targetting to begin with." Has she considered? Well, she'll say yes - but that's the curse speaking as much as anything.
Steve might get a different answer if he speaks with Fenris. The God Wolf is certainly worried for his raven.
"It's that or continue being herded along a path."
"Ah, knocking out the pillars to collapse the building," murmurs the Captain in understanding. "Or cutting lines." His brows flick in something akin to a shrug before he goes back to eating. The soup's already about all gone and he's gone to scraping the soaked innards of the bowl itself out — sourdough is one of the blessings of living on Earth, he thinks to himself.
"Ever thought you're not being herded? That it's all set out to fall just like this, dominoes lined up for a little touch?" A mild musing on his part and by his tone, Steve's not looking to argue. Rather, he's testing the waters of Astryd's own sense of tenacity.
"More like removing the tools they are using." Astryd answers. "Collapsing the supports could mean that I am trapped or worse, my Lord is." She's thought about it, a lot really.
There's a shake of her head, blonde locks falling about her shoulders "I used to, yes. But we've proved we're not - we've been nudging our Fates for centuries. Those that sit above in shadows have a vested interest in keeping us on track."
"Unfortunate." Shaking his head, Steve puts aside his spoon to begin plucking apart the bread bowl. He will devour the entire thing, even if it's enough carbs to keep the standard human being content for half a day. This is but dinner. Second dinner comes when he gets home!
"Looks like until otherwise noted, 'm here to assist. Can't think of any further questions right now," the man admits. "'m here Buck might have some when I get home 'nd update him."
"You have my cell number, Captain." Astryd murmurs, smiling slightly. She'll have more when she returns home and cooks for Fenris - unless he's decided to cook for her.
"Call anytime. I'll answer." The blonde rises, leaving the cash for the meal on the table. "I appreciate you coming to speak to me and I'm sorry this has been put on you. I can't say I'm disappointed in the Champion that I was given, though."
And with those parting words, Astryd leaves.