Chapter Eleven

Harry was dreaming again. He couldn't remember much of what happened before he had woken up in the arms if the Norns with knowledge pouring into his mind, but what he did was brought back in nightmares. He remembered the burning cold that filled his lungs until he couldn't breath. He remembered the man with the metal arm. They had been close, for a while. He remembered even less from before the cold and the pain. The metal armed man was always there, lurking in shadows and always watching. Harry remembered being in a cage, locked away and hurting. He remembers very little of that time, when he was someone else. He didn't even know how much time had passed between that time and where he was now. But for now, he dreamed. He dreamed of a castle with moving staircases and a red room with a roaring fire and laughing redheads. A room filled from floor to ceiling with books and a hall without a roof. He knew that he loved that place once, before he had been sent away. Now he felt nothing but a sense of curiosity of what that place had been like.

"It was your home, for a time Eilífur." Verðandi – the Norn of the present – stood beside him suddenly. Her eyes directed towards the remembered image of a castle. She looked almost sad as she stared at the ancient school her favoured had attended. "It still stands, but it is no longer a part of your Wyrd. The prophecy that bound you like chains has shattered and lies meaningless in the hall of the Unspeakable." Verðandi gave him a slight bow and faded into nothingness. He took one last look at the place he was told had been home, before turning away and returning to the Now. He woke slowly, taking a moment to reaffirm where he was. The dream was hazy at best, but a sense of calm had overcome him. Like a great weight had been lifted from him. He lay in silence, staring around his room. The atmosphere was familiar but not entirely unwelcome. There was a large window taking up most of the wall across the way. He could vaguely remember a conversation with Lokkju before he returned to sleep. He stood, his feet unsteady from the time he had spent unconscious.

"Can I help you?" A voice, from out of the walls, asked. Eilífur jumped, looking around wildly for whoever was speaking.

"Who are you?" He demanded, his bare feet slipping on the floor.

"That's FRIDAY. Tony's AI interface. We used to have JARVIS, but…. Well, that's kind of a long story." A man stood in the doorway. He was well muscled and looked strong, if he didn't have his shoulder hunched inwards like he was afraid. He removed a small pair of wire-framed glasses from his nose and looked at Eilífur with gentle brown eyes. He vaguely remembered wearing glasses. Eilífur reached up to touch his own eyes, searching for something he no longer needed.

"I'm Bruce… Bruce Banner. I've been looking after you until Lokkju is well enough to start your… training." The man had sad eyes, Eilífur noticed. Sad eyes and a sad smile. His stomach growled, interrupting his thoughts. "I require sustenance." Bruce huffed out a laugh. "Come on." Eilífur followed Bruce out of the medical room and down a hall, large windows taking up most of the space where hard concrete should have been. The hall was bright with a brilliant view of a city Eilífur didn't know the name of.

"Where am I?" He asked Bruce.

"Stark Tower, New York City." Both places sounded familiar, he just wasn't sure how. He had heard the name Stark before, mostly in the context of orders and somewhere he remembered the feeling of betrayal. New York was a city in America, he knew that much. He also remembered coming here frequently, with someone else.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Bruce was confused about the question, Eilífur could hear it in his voice.

"Why am I here?"

"You were somewhere else before, they did horrible things to you. The Avengers rescued you and we brought you here. You were… asleep through most of it. The people you were with before liked to keep you like that whenever you weren't needed." Bruce was trying to explain, stuttering along into some semblance of an answer that Eilífur could understand.

"I understand." He didn't feel a need to say much more than that, except for the fact that he didn't, not really. He had memories of another, tall with dark hair and an intense look about him. "I… I would like to meet the others that reside in the tower now." Bruce looked wary, Eilífur could understand why. He was an unknown factor in home territory. He wasn't sure that letting him out of the room would be the best idea.

"Umm… alright."

When Eilífur stepped out of the elevator and into the large lounge of Stark Tower there was a change in the air. The conversations over liquor and coffee stopped, and Thor's hand tightened on the handle of his hammer. The largest change, however, was in Bucky. Though the man Harry had been trained to be was gone, there was still the muscle memory of a trained soldier. He was recognizable to Bucky in the way he moved and held himself, when he was a stranger in all else.

"Harry…" His voice was quiet, even in the stillness of the room.

"I know you. We have… worked together?" Eilífur was unsure, that much was obvious. Bucky couldn't help but smile a little. Harry remembered him. In some bleak and faded way, his friend and partner remembered him.

"Something like that, yeah."

"Well… Not that this isn't a touching little reunion here, but I think we've all got a few questions." Tony, ever the loudmouth and desperate to be the center of attention, cut in – startling the pair. Eilífur turned to look at the billionaire. His eyes raking over each of the assembled fighters.

"Where is Lokkju?" The question sounded almost absent minded to the crowd.

"Loki is not welcome here." Thor said bluntly. There was no missing the finality in his voice. The name of the errant god putting many on edge. There was a visible tightening of Clint's fist over the handle of his coffee mug. Loki was not welcome here at all. Trying to lighten the sudden dark mood, Tony began the questioning with his usual charm and lack of tact.

"So… You gonna try and kill any of Steve again?"

"Who?" Eilífur asked. He couldn't recall a "Steve". Nor did he remember attacking one. A blonde man, simple in design but well built and obviously tense, stood from a couch, a shield held loosely in one hand. "Me." "Oh." Was all Eilífur said to that. Barely sparing him a glance. "I must find Lokkju. There is important work to be done." He turned back towards the elevator, leaving the Avengers without so much as a "by your leave". Bruce trailed after him with a shrug. "He's weird." Was the official sum up of the short meeting, courtesy of Tony.

"That's what a Wipe does Stark." Bucky deadpanned, staring after his friend. "It takes everything you are and wipes the slate completely clean. He has no idea who he is and how he should behave. It will take some time for his to get some - "

"Personality?" Bucky glared at Stark, but it was true. Harry, at the moment, was running on flashes of memory and unclear orders to dictate what he should do. To be fair though, to see him walking around an expressing interest of his own without any reconditioning was a miracle. He should have been like a robot, following orders or sitting aimlessly until he was needed. Perhaps this was a magic thing? Bucky didn't know for sure, but he was just happy that there was something of his partner left.

"Yeah. Personality."

Despite the brainwashing and the conditioning, Harry had always had a distinct personality, no matter how hard HYDRA had tried to squash it. He had always been… Harry. And that was why Bucky cared for him.

In the days following Eilífur's reawakening a lull had come over the city of New York. Crime was at an all time low, and villains seemed to have decided to give conquering the world a break. All at once. The Avengers, for the first time since their founding, felt useless in a city that seemingly didn't need them. Eilífur felt differently. Since he had begun his training with Lokkju, he could feel the subtle shift in the world's energies. Something bigger was coming. The Mad Titan Thanos had set his eyes upon Midgard and the amount of people the world hosted - A fine gift for Death.

The Avenger could not face him alone, they didn't have the abilities needed, nor the brute force. They could combat Chitauri until they dropped dead of exhaustion, but the Titan would take something more. Something only the Norns knew. Life at the tower was quiet for the pair of outsiders, despite the many misfits that resided there. Though both had found companionship with The Vision. Lokkju and Vision spent many long conversations together during the hours when Eilífur's energy needed to recharge. Eilífur didn't envy their easy companionship, not their delight in intelligent conversation – he simply understood neither significance nor the need for it.

It had been a few weeks past his initial awakening when he first was reintroduced to the Maximoff twins. Or rather Pietro himself. They had kept themselves away from the rest of the Avengers with good reason – Wanda's steady loss of control. It was long past Eilífur's awakening that Pietro brought his sister to Lokkju and the Blessed One, unconscious and bleeding magical energy.

"Please… Help her."

TBC

A/N: Hello all. I'm alive! It's been a rough couple of months trying to wrangle this story into submission, but here it is. I finally have a direction to go just not enough time to write it all. *sigh*. But Yay! Hope you enjoy this.

DNStalker