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morgynleri_ficAlso on: AO3, tumblr
Word Count: 3011
Category: Gen
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Choose Not to Warn
Fandom: Avengers (2012), Norse Mythology
AU: Archer, Battle-Mage, Trickster, and Warrior
Series: Coulson and Hel
Characters: Hel | Hela, Sigyn, Phil Coulson, Natasha Romanov | Black Widow, JARVIS, Anthony Stark | Tony | Iron Man, Bruce Banner | Hulk
Relationships:
"Do you think the All-Father would allow his precious son to leave Asgard without his well-wishes?" She could have done as he suggests, but it would tip her hand too soon to do so.
"I don't think he would be able to stop Thor if Thor thought there was danger to Earth," Coulson answers easily. "But you don't want him to go without Odin's permission and assistance."
The scrape of leather against rock is all the notice of Sigyn's arrival that Hel is given, but it is enough that she can draw a cloak of sieðr over the circle of stones that she uses to meet her messengers and spies. Her father's wife is pale as the snows of Hel's childhood, dark haired and brown-eyed, clad in the simple clothes of a Vanir peseant, no matter her rank. It allows her to pass almost unnoticed, at least along the paths they use to avoid the Bifrost and Heimdall's ever-vigilant gaze.
"He is gone from Asgard." Sigyn crouches across the tiny fire Hel has built for the Vanir woman's sake. "The All-Father sent one of his carrion-birds to Vanaheim to look for him, thinking he would come to me and to Vali." There's a brief, sharp smile, and Sigyn does not need to say the raven has come to harm - though, unfortunately, Hel doubts the bloody thing is dead.
"I told you I would not send him seeking to Vanaheim where the murderer would think to search for him." Hel returns Sigyn's fierce smile with a far calmer one of her own. Relaxed and uncaring for the warmth of fire or passionate anger. Hers is a longer-burning one, colder and more dangerous for it. She will not rest until her goals are met. "Father is safe, and I will make sure there is a safe place for you at his side once the murderer can no longer interfere."
Sigyn sighs, dropping her gaze to the fire she warms her hands over. "I will wait as long as need be, but I would not have it be too much longer." She pauses, looking up again after a moment. "Is Nari well?"
"As well as he might be." Hel's smile is warmer this time. "He still has yet to master the weavings that will allow him to project his thoughts into a seeming beyond the confines of my hall, but I think perhaps he might soon meet with you here on Niflheim, at least."
Sigyn nods, saying nothing as she waits for her hands to warm, and her own energies to be once more at a point where she can safely make the journey back to Vanaheim across the swaying branches of Yggdrasil.
The mortal dreams of walking in the eternal night of Yggdrasil's branches, and Hel watches. He is unafraid, though he has no idea where he is or how he came to be there. She isn't certain herself how he might have come to walk here, either, no matter what seiðr she had woven about him. Coulson is a strange one, even caught as he is now between death and true life. Time borrowed and stolen through seiðr, giving him life until the weaving is unraveled.
"What did you do to me?"
He doesn't just walk among the branches, but he calls, and he seeks for answers that she would not give him - nor plans ever to give him. Hel presses her lips together, twisting the seiðr around her fingers, thin threads catching against the weaving around Coulson, and twining with it to draw his attention to her, to let her walk in his dreams. She doesn't want him to catch the attention of the Aesir-queen.
"I gave you the choice of life where there would have only been death." She doesn't change the place of his dreams, standing in front of him on the gently swaying branch of Yggdrasil he walks. Paths he never could have seen in life, so she doesn't know how he sees them now, unless her weaving did more than she had intended it to.
"You did more than that." Coulson is dressed as he had been before, in mortal costume that had long allowed his courage and valor to be overlooked. It is perhaps what had attracted her attention to him when he had crossed paths with Thor, and with her father. "I was convenient for your purposes, and you used me to cause harm to a civilian."
"Angrboða is not a civilian." Hel shrugs, wondering at his ability to piece together the puzzle as quickly as he had. Then, he had seen the closest to her father's plans - or he never would have been able to surprise her father quite so well as he had with the amusing weapon he carried. "She is my mother."
"I know." Coulson meets her gaze without the fear too many show, or any hint of subservience. A man who the All-Father would have gladly welcomed among the ranks of his Einherjar, had she not denied him this one of the valorous dead. "She wasn't involved in this until after you used me to carry some manner of spellwork to cause harm specifically to her."
"She has been involved since the day she lay with my father, and conceived my brother who lays under the waters of Midgard." Hel lets some of her anger at the harm done to her brothers to show. "She hides and wishes to forget who she is, but she cannot."
"But why involve her? Why not cause some other trouble which would have required we seek Thor's help?" The mortals must have called for Thor - if Heimdall will pass it along, or the All-Father, that is a different matter altogether. "Or even have sent him word that he was required immediately on Earth, and given him a way to get there without the assistance of Odin or the use of the Bifrost."
"Do you think the All-Father would allow his precious son to leave Asgard without his well-wishes?" She could have done as he suggests, but it would tip her hand too soon to do so.
"I don't think he would be able to stop Thor if Thor thought there was danger to Earth," Coulson answers easily. "But you don't want him to go without Odin's permission and assistance."
Hel watches him in silence a moment, a faint smile on her face. "You have been taking lessons from the Widow in interrogation, or she has taken lessons from you in the past." She had recieved more than one of the souls that the Widow had sent to their deaths, ignominious and as unvalorous as their lives. They'd all wondered at how she'd been able to get from them so much information when they'd thought themselves in control.
Coulson shrugs. "I don't even know if the answers you've been giving me are real, or if this is all a figment of my imagination." He glances around them at the strange, shifting darkness of Yggdrasil's branches. "I would prefer to think this is real, as I don't recall ever having seen anything of this sort before, rather than think this is a creation of my subconscious."
"It is real, and here, there can be unfriendly eyes and ears, as much as in the world of the living and the dead." Hel lets her smile widen. "I would take care, my mortal friend. Even the dreams of Yggdrasil can have dangers if you tumble from her branches."
"And before? Where were we when you wove the seiðr you used to bring me back from the dead?" His expression gives nothing away, but Hel wonders where he'd heard the proper words for her workings, rather than calling it a spell like she'd expect of a mortal of his background. It is another little piece of him that makes him fascinating.
"A safe place, between the living and the dead. A far safer place, where there are fewer eyes and ears to see and to hear what they should not." A place where the Aesir-queen can walk and where the valkaries may walk, but none others save the dead on their path to Hel's hall or to Valhalla.
"Safer, but you still..." Coulson's words were cut off as he vanished, woken by something and dragged out of the realm of dreams. Hel sighs, and releases the seiðr she's woven to worm into the mortal's dream, and wakes in her own hall once more.
"I apologize for waking you, Agent Coulson, but I believe you should be aware that Director Fury is downstairs, and Sir directed me to inform you that he and Doctor Banner shall be speaking with him." JARVIS' voice is one of the more pleasant ones to which Phil has woken in his life, though he's still somewhat irritated to have been woken at all when he had been getting at least some answers from Hel. If only by pretending more awareness and knowledge than he already had.
"Thank you, JARVIS." He did have to acknowledge, though, that knowing Fury was in the building was important information in itself. It means he thought something wasn't quite right with the information he had, and he intended to check it out himself. That Stark and Banner will be the two to meet him won't allay his suspicions at all. "Please tell Stark I would prefer Director Fury not to remain unaware of my ressurection, though I will leave the details he includes to his discretion."
For the moment, and only because he's still not entirely certain of all the details himself. Phil will submit a full report once he has what he needs to do so, and the ability to actually leave the bed he's spent over a week in, for longer than it takes to get to the bathroom - a milestone he's only achieved in the last twenty-four hours.
There is a momentary silence, before JARVIS says, "I have done so, Agent Coulson." That he doesn't provide any indication of just what Stark's opinion is perhaps somewhat worrying, but expected. "Would you like me to inform anyone that you are awake? Agent Romanov and Captain Rogers are both available."
"I'm not in need of company at the moment, but if there is a need for someone to maintain a physical watch over me at present, then please do inform Agent Romanov." Phil doubts that's actually needed, or he wouldn't have been left alone last night, much less have woken to an empty room. He's not certain what measures JARVIS has been instructed or is able to take if he should prove more dangerous than he choses to be, but suspects that the only limits are what security measures Stark has installed in the tower.
After a moment, and a distinct grumble from his stomach, he adds, "Although I would appreciate breakfast."
"Of course, Agent Coulson." There's an amused note to JARVIS' voice that makes Phil raise an eyebrow, but he doesn't comment on it. It's something to pay close attention to some other time.
Natasha brings him breakfast, and watches to make sure he eats all of it, though she doesn't talk. Her expression tells him as much as the silence; she trusts him not to pass on any information, despite the fact that simply his living means he's compromised. She trusts him, full stop.
"Clint's downstairs," is all she says once Phil's done eating. The tray, she removes to a table that's been brought into the room to hold extra bits and pieces, before settling back in the chair with a book. It's a trashy romance, one of the sorts of books Natasha only ever lets Phil or Clint see her reading, and only when she's trying to show them she's comfortable. Even if she really isn't.
"Did you bring another?" Phil finds the books soothing in their predictablity, if not highly entertaining. It's mindless enough to allow him to mull over the strange dream while he reads, and try to draw some useful information from it.
Natasha quirks one corner of her mouth up slightly before reaching into the small bag she'd brought with breakfast, and handing him a book. Not one of her romances, but one of the alternate-history books she knows he likes to pick apart. Something to distract him, rather than let him worry about the possibilities.
"Sir?"
The elevator has slowed noticably with JARVIS' carefully polite interruption of their conversation on what to tell Fury when they get to the lobby. Bruce thinks Tony's plan to tell Fury nothing about Coulson is probably not a good idea - he'll notice they're holding something back, and then they'll have SHIELD trying to snoop around the Tower. Bruce doesn't like that idea, but he doesn't exactly have a better solution at the moment, since he suspects Fury won't go away if he finds out that Coulson is alive again, and currently being hidden from SHIELD by the Avengers.
"Yeah, JARVIS?" Tony glances up toward the corner of the elevator that Bruce can only assume is the one with the hidden camera JARVIS would use to keep an eye on the occupants. He makes a mental note of it, so he can direct his gaze there as well - like remembering to look someone in the eyes.
"Agent Coulson is awake." There's a moment, and then Coulson's voice comes over the speakers, asking JARVIS to tell Tony and Bruce that he doesn't want to be hidden. Which, as far as Bruce is concerned, does answer at least part of the question answered, though it leaves almost as many behind, since he leaves the amount of information beyond that provided to Fury up to Tony.
"Huh." Tony looks thoughtful a moment. "Didn't know Agent trusted me that much." He leans against the back of the elevator, his hands in his pockets, looking for all the world like some rebellious teenager suddenly told he's not in as much trouble as he expected to be. He looks over to Bruce after a moment, a smirk quirking up the corners of his mouth. "You want to tell Fury about how we found Agent alive?"
"No." Bruce hadn't been there, since it hadn't needed the Hulk, and he's still more comfortable in the labs of the Tower than out among the people of New York. Which isn't always a whole lot. Even if he had been, he's still not sure how Coulson can be alive, the probable involvement of Hel not withstanding. And he's not mentioning her, because he can imagine the potential trouble that could raise with SHIELD. "He's not going to let us know if he believes us or not unless he sees Coulson himself, you know."
"So does Agent." Tony frowns, and glances up to the display that tells him how much further until they reach the lobby. "I don't like the idea of Fury in the Tower." There's more there than a distrust of Fury, but Bruce is only beginning to see just how much more. They're all just starting to figure out this team thing, this... family thing, really. But he's certain that's why Natasha didn't tell SHIELD the truth about the last mission, and maybe it's why they're all thinking about asking Thor for help with Anna and with Coulson before they consider asking SHIELD.
"It might be the only way to keep him from trying to send SHIELD agents in." Bruce doesn't know if it really will help, but it's worth at least voicing the idea - though recalling Natasha sent to find him in India, that Fury is alone in the lobby doesn't mean there aren't agents outside, or that there isn't a helicopter or one of the quinjets waiting in striking range to drop agents on the roof.
Tony snorts. "He'll have to hack JARVIS to do that." Which only means that it takes more effort on SHIELD's part, but Bruce hopes Fury has the sense to wait Tony out on this. Wait out Tony, and wait out the rest of the team.
"There has been no word of any call from Midgard for Thor." The soft whisper is as a prayer spoken in the night, a gossamer thread of thought from one of her eyes and ears on Asgard. They never should have held those from other realms, who knew better than any Aesir how to weave seiðr into so many forms, in clever threads that pass unnoticed between realms along the branches of Yggdrasil.
Hel frowns, wondering what it will take to draw the Odinson from Asgard, if the pleas of his boon companions are not heeded. She taps her fingers on the arm of her throne, nails clicking on seiðr-seared and blackened bone. Her brother could draw attention with ease, but it would come too close to Ragnorak if he were the cause of strife enough to return Thor to Midgard.
Thanos, too, could be used to create a distraction, but she would prefer to see him destroyed in some fashion that would send him to her realm. Let him die a death that was not valorous, and be brought into her power, and she will not let him forget that it was her father he took and harmed beyond anything Hel would wish upon him for his crimes. No, Thanos is better suited to screaming through from his death to Ragnorak, not taking his ease in Valhalla.
She twists a thread of seiðr between her fingers, spinning out as fine and shifting as the one that had brought the information to her. "Let a whisper spread of secrets kept by the throne and the gate." Let Thor ponder on that, and see if he has learned anything of intrigue and politics since he has been returned to Asgard. Enough, she hopes, to seek Odin's response to such a rumour, and to expect that he will be told it is of course true, but the throne must always keep certain information close. Perhaps to believe it, but wish to know the secrets himself.
Once more, her fingers drum on the arm of her throne, mind already seeking alternate paths to achieve her ends, cataloguing the strengths and weaknesses of allies and enemies and the pawns who move to the bidding of both. The Odinson must leave Asgard, and leave the realm vulnerable. Then she might achieve her revenge, and destroy the ascendency of Asgard and its arrogant, thieving king.
Word Count: 3011
Category: Gen
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Choose Not to Warn
Fandom: Avengers (2012), Norse Mythology
AU: Archer, Battle-Mage, Trickster, and Warrior
Series: Coulson and Hel
Characters: Hel | Hela, Sigyn, Phil Coulson, Natasha Romanov | Black Widow, JARVIS, Anthony Stark | Tony | Iron Man, Bruce Banner | Hulk
Relationships:
"Do you think the All-Father would allow his precious son to leave Asgard without his well-wishes?" She could have done as he suggests, but it would tip her hand too soon to do so.
"I don't think he would be able to stop Thor if Thor thought there was danger to Earth," Coulson answers easily. "But you don't want him to go without Odin's permission and assistance."
The scrape of leather against rock is all the notice of Sigyn's arrival that Hel is given, but it is enough that she can draw a cloak of sieðr over the circle of stones that she uses to meet her messengers and spies. Her father's wife is pale as the snows of Hel's childhood, dark haired and brown-eyed, clad in the simple clothes of a Vanir peseant, no matter her rank. It allows her to pass almost unnoticed, at least along the paths they use to avoid the Bifrost and Heimdall's ever-vigilant gaze.
"He is gone from Asgard." Sigyn crouches across the tiny fire Hel has built for the Vanir woman's sake. "The All-Father sent one of his carrion-birds to Vanaheim to look for him, thinking he would come to me and to Vali." There's a brief, sharp smile, and Sigyn does not need to say the raven has come to harm - though, unfortunately, Hel doubts the bloody thing is dead.
"I told you I would not send him seeking to Vanaheim where the murderer would think to search for him." Hel returns Sigyn's fierce smile with a far calmer one of her own. Relaxed and uncaring for the warmth of fire or passionate anger. Hers is a longer-burning one, colder and more dangerous for it. She will not rest until her goals are met. "Father is safe, and I will make sure there is a safe place for you at his side once the murderer can no longer interfere."
Sigyn sighs, dropping her gaze to the fire she warms her hands over. "I will wait as long as need be, but I would not have it be too much longer." She pauses, looking up again after a moment. "Is Nari well?"
"As well as he might be." Hel's smile is warmer this time. "He still has yet to master the weavings that will allow him to project his thoughts into a seeming beyond the confines of my hall, but I think perhaps he might soon meet with you here on Niflheim, at least."
Sigyn nods, saying nothing as she waits for her hands to warm, and her own energies to be once more at a point where she can safely make the journey back to Vanaheim across the swaying branches of Yggdrasil.
The mortal dreams of walking in the eternal night of Yggdrasil's branches, and Hel watches. He is unafraid, though he has no idea where he is or how he came to be there. She isn't certain herself how he might have come to walk here, either, no matter what seiðr she had woven about him. Coulson is a strange one, even caught as he is now between death and true life. Time borrowed and stolen through seiðr, giving him life until the weaving is unraveled.
"What did you do to me?"
He doesn't just walk among the branches, but he calls, and he seeks for answers that she would not give him - nor plans ever to give him. Hel presses her lips together, twisting the seiðr around her fingers, thin threads catching against the weaving around Coulson, and twining with it to draw his attention to her, to let her walk in his dreams. She doesn't want him to catch the attention of the Aesir-queen.
"I gave you the choice of life where there would have only been death." She doesn't change the place of his dreams, standing in front of him on the gently swaying branch of Yggdrasil he walks. Paths he never could have seen in life, so she doesn't know how he sees them now, unless her weaving did more than she had intended it to.
"You did more than that." Coulson is dressed as he had been before, in mortal costume that had long allowed his courage and valor to be overlooked. It is perhaps what had attracted her attention to him when he had crossed paths with Thor, and with her father. "I was convenient for your purposes, and you used me to cause harm to a civilian."
"Angrboða is not a civilian." Hel shrugs, wondering at his ability to piece together the puzzle as quickly as he had. Then, he had seen the closest to her father's plans - or he never would have been able to surprise her father quite so well as he had with the amusing weapon he carried. "She is my mother."
"I know." Coulson meets her gaze without the fear too many show, or any hint of subservience. A man who the All-Father would have gladly welcomed among the ranks of his Einherjar, had she not denied him this one of the valorous dead. "She wasn't involved in this until after you used me to carry some manner of spellwork to cause harm specifically to her."
"She has been involved since the day she lay with my father, and conceived my brother who lays under the waters of Midgard." Hel lets some of her anger at the harm done to her brothers to show. "She hides and wishes to forget who she is, but she cannot."
"But why involve her? Why not cause some other trouble which would have required we seek Thor's help?" The mortals must have called for Thor - if Heimdall will pass it along, or the All-Father, that is a different matter altogether. "Or even have sent him word that he was required immediately on Earth, and given him a way to get there without the assistance of Odin or the use of the Bifrost."
"Do you think the All-Father would allow his precious son to leave Asgard without his well-wishes?" She could have done as he suggests, but it would tip her hand too soon to do so.
"I don't think he would be able to stop Thor if Thor thought there was danger to Earth," Coulson answers easily. "But you don't want him to go without Odin's permission and assistance."
Hel watches him in silence a moment, a faint smile on her face. "You have been taking lessons from the Widow in interrogation, or she has taken lessons from you in the past." She had recieved more than one of the souls that the Widow had sent to their deaths, ignominious and as unvalorous as their lives. They'd all wondered at how she'd been able to get from them so much information when they'd thought themselves in control.
Coulson shrugs. "I don't even know if the answers you've been giving me are real, or if this is all a figment of my imagination." He glances around them at the strange, shifting darkness of Yggdrasil's branches. "I would prefer to think this is real, as I don't recall ever having seen anything of this sort before, rather than think this is a creation of my subconscious."
"It is real, and here, there can be unfriendly eyes and ears, as much as in the world of the living and the dead." Hel lets her smile widen. "I would take care, my mortal friend. Even the dreams of Yggdrasil can have dangers if you tumble from her branches."
"And before? Where were we when you wove the seiðr you used to bring me back from the dead?" His expression gives nothing away, but Hel wonders where he'd heard the proper words for her workings, rather than calling it a spell like she'd expect of a mortal of his background. It is another little piece of him that makes him fascinating.
"A safe place, between the living and the dead. A far safer place, where there are fewer eyes and ears to see and to hear what they should not." A place where the Aesir-queen can walk and where the valkaries may walk, but none others save the dead on their path to Hel's hall or to Valhalla.
"Safer, but you still..." Coulson's words were cut off as he vanished, woken by something and dragged out of the realm of dreams. Hel sighs, and releases the seiðr she's woven to worm into the mortal's dream, and wakes in her own hall once more.
"I apologize for waking you, Agent Coulson, but I believe you should be aware that Director Fury is downstairs, and Sir directed me to inform you that he and Doctor Banner shall be speaking with him." JARVIS' voice is one of the more pleasant ones to which Phil has woken in his life, though he's still somewhat irritated to have been woken at all when he had been getting at least some answers from Hel. If only by pretending more awareness and knowledge than he already had.
"Thank you, JARVIS." He did have to acknowledge, though, that knowing Fury was in the building was important information in itself. It means he thought something wasn't quite right with the information he had, and he intended to check it out himself. That Stark and Banner will be the two to meet him won't allay his suspicions at all. "Please tell Stark I would prefer Director Fury not to remain unaware of my ressurection, though I will leave the details he includes to his discretion."
For the moment, and only because he's still not entirely certain of all the details himself. Phil will submit a full report once he has what he needs to do so, and the ability to actually leave the bed he's spent over a week in, for longer than it takes to get to the bathroom - a milestone he's only achieved in the last twenty-four hours.
There is a momentary silence, before JARVIS says, "I have done so, Agent Coulson." That he doesn't provide any indication of just what Stark's opinion is perhaps somewhat worrying, but expected. "Would you like me to inform anyone that you are awake? Agent Romanov and Captain Rogers are both available."
"I'm not in need of company at the moment, but if there is a need for someone to maintain a physical watch over me at present, then please do inform Agent Romanov." Phil doubts that's actually needed, or he wouldn't have been left alone last night, much less have woken to an empty room. He's not certain what measures JARVIS has been instructed or is able to take if he should prove more dangerous than he choses to be, but suspects that the only limits are what security measures Stark has installed in the tower.
After a moment, and a distinct grumble from his stomach, he adds, "Although I would appreciate breakfast."
"Of course, Agent Coulson." There's an amused note to JARVIS' voice that makes Phil raise an eyebrow, but he doesn't comment on it. It's something to pay close attention to some other time.
Natasha brings him breakfast, and watches to make sure he eats all of it, though she doesn't talk. Her expression tells him as much as the silence; she trusts him not to pass on any information, despite the fact that simply his living means he's compromised. She trusts him, full stop.
"Clint's downstairs," is all she says once Phil's done eating. The tray, she removes to a table that's been brought into the room to hold extra bits and pieces, before settling back in the chair with a book. It's a trashy romance, one of the sorts of books Natasha only ever lets Phil or Clint see her reading, and only when she's trying to show them she's comfortable. Even if she really isn't.
"Did you bring another?" Phil finds the books soothing in their predictablity, if not highly entertaining. It's mindless enough to allow him to mull over the strange dream while he reads, and try to draw some useful information from it.
Natasha quirks one corner of her mouth up slightly before reaching into the small bag she'd brought with breakfast, and handing him a book. Not one of her romances, but one of the alternate-history books she knows he likes to pick apart. Something to distract him, rather than let him worry about the possibilities.
"Sir?"
The elevator has slowed noticably with JARVIS' carefully polite interruption of their conversation on what to tell Fury when they get to the lobby. Bruce thinks Tony's plan to tell Fury nothing about Coulson is probably not a good idea - he'll notice they're holding something back, and then they'll have SHIELD trying to snoop around the Tower. Bruce doesn't like that idea, but he doesn't exactly have a better solution at the moment, since he suspects Fury won't go away if he finds out that Coulson is alive again, and currently being hidden from SHIELD by the Avengers.
"Yeah, JARVIS?" Tony glances up toward the corner of the elevator that Bruce can only assume is the one with the hidden camera JARVIS would use to keep an eye on the occupants. He makes a mental note of it, so he can direct his gaze there as well - like remembering to look someone in the eyes.
"Agent Coulson is awake." There's a moment, and then Coulson's voice comes over the speakers, asking JARVIS to tell Tony and Bruce that he doesn't want to be hidden. Which, as far as Bruce is concerned, does answer at least part of the question answered, though it leaves almost as many behind, since he leaves the amount of information beyond that provided to Fury up to Tony.
"Huh." Tony looks thoughtful a moment. "Didn't know Agent trusted me that much." He leans against the back of the elevator, his hands in his pockets, looking for all the world like some rebellious teenager suddenly told he's not in as much trouble as he expected to be. He looks over to Bruce after a moment, a smirk quirking up the corners of his mouth. "You want to tell Fury about how we found Agent alive?"
"No." Bruce hadn't been there, since it hadn't needed the Hulk, and he's still more comfortable in the labs of the Tower than out among the people of New York. Which isn't always a whole lot. Even if he had been, he's still not sure how Coulson can be alive, the probable involvement of Hel not withstanding. And he's not mentioning her, because he can imagine the potential trouble that could raise with SHIELD. "He's not going to let us know if he believes us or not unless he sees Coulson himself, you know."
"So does Agent." Tony frowns, and glances up to the display that tells him how much further until they reach the lobby. "I don't like the idea of Fury in the Tower." There's more there than a distrust of Fury, but Bruce is only beginning to see just how much more. They're all just starting to figure out this team thing, this... family thing, really. But he's certain that's why Natasha didn't tell SHIELD the truth about the last mission, and maybe it's why they're all thinking about asking Thor for help with Anna and with Coulson before they consider asking SHIELD.
"It might be the only way to keep him from trying to send SHIELD agents in." Bruce doesn't know if it really will help, but it's worth at least voicing the idea - though recalling Natasha sent to find him in India, that Fury is alone in the lobby doesn't mean there aren't agents outside, or that there isn't a helicopter or one of the quinjets waiting in striking range to drop agents on the roof.
Tony snorts. "He'll have to hack JARVIS to do that." Which only means that it takes more effort on SHIELD's part, but Bruce hopes Fury has the sense to wait Tony out on this. Wait out Tony, and wait out the rest of the team.
"There has been no word of any call from Midgard for Thor." The soft whisper is as a prayer spoken in the night, a gossamer thread of thought from one of her eyes and ears on Asgard. They never should have held those from other realms, who knew better than any Aesir how to weave seiðr into so many forms, in clever threads that pass unnoticed between realms along the branches of Yggdrasil.
Hel frowns, wondering what it will take to draw the Odinson from Asgard, if the pleas of his boon companions are not heeded. She taps her fingers on the arm of her throne, nails clicking on seiðr-seared and blackened bone. Her brother could draw attention with ease, but it would come too close to Ragnorak if he were the cause of strife enough to return Thor to Midgard.
Thanos, too, could be used to create a distraction, but she would prefer to see him destroyed in some fashion that would send him to her realm. Let him die a death that was not valorous, and be brought into her power, and she will not let him forget that it was her father he took and harmed beyond anything Hel would wish upon him for his crimes. No, Thanos is better suited to screaming through from his death to Ragnorak, not taking his ease in Valhalla.
She twists a thread of seiðr between her fingers, spinning out as fine and shifting as the one that had brought the information to her. "Let a whisper spread of secrets kept by the throne and the gate." Let Thor ponder on that, and see if he has learned anything of intrigue and politics since he has been returned to Asgard. Enough, she hopes, to seek Odin's response to such a rumour, and to expect that he will be told it is of course true, but the throne must always keep certain information close. Perhaps to believe it, but wish to know the secrets himself.
Once more, her fingers drum on the arm of her throne, mind already seeking alternate paths to achieve her ends, cataloguing the strengths and weaknesses of allies and enemies and the pawns who move to the bidding of both. The Odinson must leave Asgard, and leave the realm vulnerable. Then she might achieve her revenge, and destroy the ascendency of Asgard and its arrogant, thieving king.