Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tony could admit now that he hadn’t anticipated how much work being a superhero would be. After the battle of New York, Fury had informed them all that while SHEILD was still paying their wages (Not that Tony needed any more money, but he wasn’t the richest man in America by refusing pay checks with over seven zeroes... And he had to admit, being a superhero was definitely an advantage with the ladies), they would be flying all over earth putting out supernatural fires. 

So here he was, crammed into a jet that was much too small for three superheroes (of the particularly buff disposition), no mind about six, flying up to a tiny, inconcequential Norwegian town after reports of a-

“Giant. Swimming. Tapeworm… In the fjord.” Clint’s voice was laced with a deadpan disbelief, “You’re sure that it’s not just something else in the fjord? Making people see things perhaps?” He enquired to Bruce, who was sat at the controls, here to manage communications with SHIELD - his big, green and scary counterpart only the backup of the backup.

Natasha spoke up, giving Clint a dry look that was rather familiar to Tony by now, having traveled with and fought beside the two for a while, “Hallucinations like the massive alien army we fought in the centre of New York last month?”

“She’s got you there Clint, at this point, we have to be prepared for anything.” The Good Captian added, checking his shied’s straps as the jet started to decrease in altitude, “Hopefully this is either a false alarm or won’t give us too much trouble. We go in, find the creature and deal with it as quickly as possible.”

Thor looked up from where he was sat. It was unusual to have him with them on the plane, as usually he’d fly by himself, but they had all agreed that Thor should probably be a part of mission briefings more often after the disastrous incident in Paris that resulted in enough lawsuits and fines that even SHIELD couldn’t sweep all of them under the rug. “Fear not, it shall be a glorious battle against a worthy foe!” He exclaimed in what Tony assumed was his ‘mightiest’ tone, “We merely must catch it in a net first so it cannot escape our just vengeance on behalf of MIdgard.”

Tony couldn’t help but let out an amused snort at that, “I’m afraid my old man never was one for teaching me to fish, hopefully I can just blast it and we can fly off into the sunset victoriously. Not so sure about ‘Vengeance on behalf of Midgard’ though buddy, I mean what has the worm actually done other than apparently being huge and terrifying?”

Bruce interjected into their discussion, “We’re nearing the ground guys, scans don’t indicate anything out of the ordinary yet, but they haven’t reached the bottom of the fjord yet.”

The Jet landed with barely a thump on the side of the mountain, by the bank, and as the door slid open, Tony had to admit, for as much as he complained about having to travel the world, the soaring mountains and deep icy blue fjords of Norway were stunning.

They all filed out of the plane, barring Bruce who remained to watch the monitors. They all kept their eyes on the water with apprehension, though nothing changed. Bruce reported still no change from the sensors over the coms system, and as the hours ticked by and Tony flew up and down, scanning the Fjord, he began to accept that this was simply a hoax. A town-wide practical joke. And hey, even Tony could admit that was amusing.

It was at that exact moment, just as he was about to call off the search as a false alarm, he spotted the figure, out on the pier opposite where their jet had landed, the heat signature popping up on the display of his suit that he’d been using to look for this godforsaken worm.

Well, they say if all else fails, ask the locals.

Tony landed on the edge of the wooden pier as his visor popped open to reveal his face in an effort to not scare the seemingly teenage boy, though he needn’t have bothered, the boy seemed preoccupied with sitting at the edge of the pier and murmuring unintelligible Norwegian to the water.

“Uh, excuse me? You speak English?” Tony spoke up. The boy turned, and for the briefest second there was a horrifying familiarity with which he smirked, but it was gone in an instant, and Tony dismissed it easily, after all, Tony was pretty sure he’d never met a random Norwegian teen before.

He was dressed… eccentrically, though certainly not at all so compared to the group Tony had been travelling with, red-white-and-blue spandex and capes galore, though certainly enough to be notable. He wore a black band shirt of some Scandinavian rock/metal group by the looks of it, and a deep green skirt that fell down to his ankles, where he wore thick black boots, which Jarvis assured Tony did indeed have steel toe caps. His eyes were rimmed with dark eyeshadow that complimented his dark hair and pale skin, and made his icey blue eyes stand out rather startlingly.

The… boy(?) raised an eyebrow at Tony curiously, “…I do, and you’re the Avengers.” He replied plainly, and that was when it all went to hell.

Bruce’s voice was sharp and slightly panicked in his ear as he faced the boy, “Tony, get the civilian out of here now, we’re getting a reading!”

The boy tensed up as if hearing Bruce’s words, though Tony knew he couldn’t have, and as the mask of his suit clanged shut, Tony said a quick warning to the boy, “Get out of here now kid, we’re about to kick some monster butt apparently.” And then he was flying off to get back to his allies without a backwards glance.

Really he should not have expected the boy to blindly follow orders, after all, what kid would pass up a chance to see the Avengers fight in person? But he was slightly distracted, by the hulking white form rising from the water previously undisturbed water.

~

As the eyeless, serpentine monster rose out of the fjord, Thor felt an uncharacteristic wave of dread descend upon him as he readied his hammer. But it wasn’t the usual cocktail of excitement and adrenaline with a hint of fear common to him before battle. No. This was older. An ancient and foretold dread that sat, heavy as lead, in the pit of his stomach.

As the Man of Iron had been conversing with the young child he’d spotted on the other side of the lake, Thor had allowed himself to sit on a log nearby the jet, Mjolnir resting beside him as he hoped for a good fight, but his hopes had been all but dashed to pieces by this Goliath of a monster. He didn’t recognise what emotion had sent him reeling back a few paces but it was the instinctual, natural response of a former apex predator coming face to face with something simply higher up on the food chain

But now his companions were charging into a battle they had no hope of surviving, and he could not let them simply go to their deaths without raising a finger to help.

He raised his hammer, spinning it with brutal determination, before launching himself up into the air towards the creature. But the familiar and tell-tale crunch of bones never came. Instead came a voice.

The child, still stood on the pier on the other side of the fjord let out a deafening scream, even from so far away, and one word bounced incessantly around Thor’s head as he was thrown backwards, away from the worm. “No.”

He groaned from where he was laid, in a crator he’d apparently created in the side of the mountain as he was thrown, and forcefully raised himself, though his ears were still ringing with that word. “No.”

His compatriots were still laid out flat, being mortal they were most likely unconscious, and Thor could only hope it wasn’t worse than that. When they awoke, he knew they’d blame magic. Try to find some sort of sorcerer, but he recognised seiðr when he saw it, or rather, felt it. This was not simply magic. This was older, wilder, and as the horrendous monster disappeared beneath sloshing waves of its own making, all he could look at was the boy. He couldn’t see much from this distance, and his vision was blurring wildly as he fought to remain conscious. The only thing that remained with him about the boy were two, shining eyes, one a sharp, icy blue, and the other, a rich, golden orange. And then, as Thor too slipped into a hazy darkness, the boy turned and ran.

Chapter Text

Bruce felt the wave of power crash over him even from inside the jet, well away from the others. All he could initially focus on was taking deep breaths, as the Hulk brimmed beneath his skin in anger. How dare this sorcerer hurt his friends? How dare he protect this worm? How dare… he was gaining a green tint.

No. That wouldn’t be helpful now the danger seemed to have passed. The more important thing was making sure his friends were indeed still breathing, and figuring out what the hell had just happened. He allowed that concern and that curiosity to bloom, overpowering his initial anger as he waited until he had fully regained his senses and was sure it was safe to leave the jet without going green.

Bruce assumed that he was only left conscious by the fact that he did not directly threaten the worm, and thank goodness for that. Who knew what the Hulk would do if his puny counterpart was forced into a magically-induced coma where he could no longer keep the other side of himself locked away. No. He wouldn’t think of the Hulk right now. Right now his friends needed Dr. Bruce Banner, the renowned scientist, and at least one of his seven PhD’s.

He stood up from where he was sat at the monitors, deciding to alert SHIELD of unknown supernatural activity after he’d ensured his companions safety. They could deal with that later. For now, he exited the plane and made a beeline for Clint and Natasha, who, while the furthest from the power surge, and on the ground at the time, were at the moment the squishiest. He checked both of their pulses one after the other and found them both comfortingly regular, thank god, before checking on Steve, who’d also been nearby, and was thankfully also okay, though the shield of the man in question was wedged securely halfway up the mountain, and Bruce was unsure how they’d get it out.

Unfortunately, both Thor and Tony, having also been airborne at the time, were both also slung into the side of the cliff, and Bruce began the steep climb.

Despite his worryingly dented suit, as Bruce removed Tony’s mask and the cold Norwegian air hit the mans face, he awoke with a gasp, taking in a deep gulp of the clear air. “What the fuck was that Bruce?” Were his first words, his second being to ask the same thing of Jarvis, his suit’s AI.

“I- I don’t know Tony, but I think it was some kind of magic - it definitely wasn’t natural.” Bruce attempted to reply, and Tony nodded absentmindedly in agreement, evidently with half an ear listening to Jarvis’ analysis of the blast, which, when relayed to Bruce, turned out to boil down to, ‘I have no clue Sir, but I’ll let Director Fury know.’

A grave voice came from further up the mountain, despite the fact that Thor still blearily trying to regain his bearings with a frown. “That was no ordinary Midgardian Sorcery my friends. It was too old, too wild. That was seiðr. Ancient Asgardian magic that flows throughout Yggdrasil, the world tree.” He hesitated, “It was… My Brother used to practice it. He was taught by our mother when we - me and my friends that is - shunned him for being physically weaker.”

A frown was now firmly etched across the Asgardian’s face, and it only deepened when Bruce next spoke, adjusting his glasses after his long climb, “But.. not that I remember much of the battle of New York, but from what I’ve seen of news coverage, Loki never did anything like that.”

“No… Thor hummed consideringly, something terrifyingly like hope brimming in his eyes, “He didn’t…”

It was at that point that Tony interjected and broke the other two out of their musings, “Uh, guys, I don’t suppose either of you saw where Harry Potter and the Basilisk-from-hell ran off to?”

Bruce shrugged, having been too busy trying to keep the Hulk at bay and his friends alive, but Thor spoke up, “I think I saw the boy run back to the Village atop the hill, and the snake disappear once more beneath the waves. I do not say this lightly, but good riddance to it too, for I do not believe, had we battled the monster, we would all have returned alive.”

Tony simply shrugged, or attempted to from where he was lain inside his slightly busted suit, “Well then Point Break, I suggest we reconvene in the jet and then go for a brisk hike in the highland fjords. Surely someone’s bound to have noticed magical voodoo weirdness going on in a small town like this!” He exclaimed with false enthusiasm.

“And Bruce? Do your old pal a favour and help me out of this suit? I think the hydraulics systems are down.”

~

Clint would have liked to say he had a high tolerance for weirdness at this point. After all, he was just a random guy with a bow and arrow and a crack shot, running about with gods and monsters and geniuses in multi-million-dollar metal suits. But this? He hadn’t signed up for an angry magician.

He honestly thought they were just here to dispose of a massive fucking snake, shoot a few arrows in its eye and, bish bash bosh, as Stark said, fly off into the sunset. But no. Nothing was ever that simple.

So here he was, on a hike he didn’t sign up for, nor dress for, in the back end of beyond in Norway. On the hunt for a sorcerer no less! God he’d have to explain to Laura why he was going to be away for a couple more nights.

“So let’s go over this again. A super powerful, potentially Asgardian, wizard is running about this random Norwegian town and protecting a massive worm… pet? Was that a pet!?” Clint was going insane.

“Yes, that the long and short of it Clint.” Steve replied, as business-as-usual as he usually was. Clint guessed that being frozen in ice for fifty-odd years and waking up in the future did that to a person, you were never really surprised by anything anymore.

“Aaaand now we’re going to go around, knocking on doors of this tiny Norwegian town, and asking about any odd happenings… Other than the giant freaking tapeworm in the fjord!”

“Yes Clint.” Natasha replied, with much more exasperation and much less patience than Steve.

The three of them once more lapsed into silence as they climbed, though Clint seemed to be the only one tiring at all. Thor was already forging ahead with his Asgardian strength, and slowly, Clint fell behind the other two to join up with his fellow unenhanced humans. Their conversation may have been mainly technobabble and unintelligible jargon to him, but at least they seemed to be equally struggling slightly to keep up with the other three.

With Bruce’s help, Tony had eventually managed to remove his armour, and now only wore his usual sharply tailored suit, the remains of his metal armour stowed back at the jet (Which Bruce assured him they couldn’t fly because there was nowhere to land properly any closer, much to Clint’s chagrin). At least someone was as underdressed as Clint was. Bruce on the other hand, was always infuriatingly prepared, and upon hearing they were going up to Norway, had packed the thickest coat he had, and looked frankly toasty as the other two froze their underprepared arses off. At least they were getting paid well, and Fury wasn’t there to shout at them for letting an ‘enhanced individual’ slip out of the grasp of SHIELD’s top team.

By the time they reached the town that Clint quickly learnt was called Edda, they were all breathing heavily (Excluding Thor, Steve and Natasha of course, sometimes he wondered whether Natasha was human herself-), and Clint was thoroughly ready to sit down with a nice cup of tea or coffee, though Clint doubted that would come any time soon looking down on the surprisingly big town buried in the valley.

“Start at the top and work out way down?” Natasha preposed to the group as the normal humans caught up with the others, and Clint followed her finger to where she was pointing, though he really didn’t need to.

It was the house they were closest to, at the very top of the hill they’d just climbed, and it seemed starkly in contrast to the other more humble houses in the valley. It stood out, a dark blotch against the sky, looming over the town with its impressive dark wood facade. The industrialised buildings of the company Tony predictably knew the name of, stretched down to the river on the other side of the hill to the town. Jutul Industries apparently. And it seemed that the Avengers were about to meet the owners.

Chapter Text

As his knock echoed through the mansion, Steve felt a looming sense of dread as the sharp, regular clack of smart shoes approached the door. He took little comfort from his compatriots, stood behind him, their positioning more cowering rather than backup to Steve’s eye. Despite this, he logically knew that Earth’s mightiest heroes would never cower; after all, what reason would the richest man on earth and a norse god have to hide from a random (Admittedly expensive) household in Norway?

Still, Steve failed to regulate his apprehension (Which was a surprise, not least of all to himself. Captain America was not often afraid.) as the door swung open, revealing an imposing woman. The first thing he noted was her expression; carefully concealed irritation, buried by a well worn polite smile. 

Upon seeing the American heroes, evidently noting their nationality (Steve wore a rather conspicuous red white and blue after all - and who had heard of a captain Britain, or France, or any other country that happened to have a red-white-and-blue flag?) she easily began in English, “Hello, may I help you?” She enquired when none of them spoke up first. Steve cleared his throat, which had mysteriously closed up at the sight of the smartly dressed woman, for no reason Steve could identify, other than something old and still impossibly small and human inside of him - the boy from the 1940s who was still twig-like in stature with a pathetic dustbin lid as protection.

His hand tightened ever so slightly on his shield’s strap, though it gave him little comfort, before he steeled himself and spoke up, “Sorry for disturbing you ma’am, but we’ve had some reports of some anomalies and potential extra-terrestrial activity in this area that we’ve been sent here to resolve by S.H.I.E.L.D,” he began, falling back on his ingrained manners and a practiced script in order to keep going, the woman’s eyes turning to him sharply as he tried weakly to explain why they were here, taking up her precious time. Talking to her felt like standing once more infant of the crowd of jeering and jaded soldiers with his cardboard shield and spandex suit. 

“We encountered a creature in the river, but it was protected by a boy, who Thor here managed to see run back in the direction of the town.” He added, suddenly wondering why they came here to ask about it of all places anyway other than Tony’s natural inclination to go towards the money in any given area.

At the mention of the thunder god and at Steve’s accompanying gesture, the woman froze, her eyes drifting curiously to his compatriot. Her eyes narrowed every so slightly, though she continued as if the famous group were merely concerned passersby, asking about a local delinquent. “Naturally, I am happy to help in any way I can. I am the head teacher at the school here, I am sure if you have concerns about the activity of any of my students, I will be happy to pass on your concerns to their parents.” She replied frostily, evidently hoping to bring a swift end to their current interaction.

Steve was, however, unfazed. He reminded himself of his natural moral righteousness and assured himself of his own determination for justice before he spoke again, with honesty thickly and obviously lathered onto every word, “Ma’am, we witnessed this boy wield a concerning amount of untrained magical power,” God, even Steve was beginning to feel like he sounded slightly ridiculous, why had Fury ordered them to find the boy and bring him in anyway? Steve guessed it probably wasn’t to make sure he was eating all his vegetables and not being rude to innocent old ladies. “We hoped we could... talk to him.” He finished lamely. 

The woman simply quirked an eyebrow, something like amusement openly tugging at the corner of her lips now, though she smothered it with a carefully timed cough, “Ah, well I may be able to point you in the correct direction if you can give me a brief description of him.” She, rather easily, agreed.

~

Ran Jutul could guess what was coming before the well-dressed man with the obnoxious goatee spoke, “About yea high,” He began with a vague gesture of hight, “Green skirt, black hair, blue eyes, pretty distinctive style.” Ah, there it was. Ran wondered what they’d do to the boy, but either way it’d get the possibly-hopefully-not-probably-is bastard of a Loki  off her hands and out of her business. 

She gave the group a look of dawning comprehension and feigned confusion with a hint of disbelieving shock, “You don’t mean Laurits Seier do you? Why, I’d never have guessed he’d be the one with magic, what with his brother and all.” 

Perhaps… two birds, one stone, as the Americans would say. Perhaps the two Thors would battle each other to death if she was lucky. More likely at least, the two quasi Norse gods would be taken in for questioning and would stay there for years until they were experimented on, converted into American poster boys or... disposed of as threats. 

The patriotic one, Captain America, she was rather sure (slightly anachronistic for a now worldwide protector, but who was she to give the man points on branding?), spoke up. “His brother?” He enquired, perfectly sincere. It was almost nauseating. 

She hummed, “Yes, he goes around claiming to be the Norse god,” She paused and made eye contact with the large Asgardian, “Thor.” Oh it was rather fun to see the brief flash of righteous anger flash across the aliens face - of course she’d looked into the newest defender of earth with the namesake of the Jutuls old foe, but she (And the other three, for they had discussed it before Vidar’s untimely death) had ultimately decided that he was not the Thor they once knew, and not a true Norse God, which was only confirmed once the true Aesir had begun causing problems for them once more.)

Despite Thor’s initial misplaced anger at the thought of an impersonator, he obviously quickly dismissed Magne as simply disillusioned or mad, speaking up with the carefully trained formality of a prince, “Thank you, good lady, and where may we find these young boys?” He spoke up himself for the first time, and Ran was rather unsure of what to make of the supposed Alien who claimed to be the being who went around claiming to be her old foe.

Yet she did not outwardly react, simply giving the group instructions to the run-down house that now belonged to the Seier’s, having been there herself previously to threaten the brothers in question. 

The group of ‘Avengers’ soon left, and as Ran watched their winding progress as they made their way down the steep roads that lead from Ginnungagap down to the main town, she considered the group, the Asgardian specifically. He was not the Aesir she once knew, nor had he ever been, not like she could see and sense within Magne, that much she could tell immediately. But perhaps an Alien counterpart? Or perhaps they were the counterparts? She would bring it up to the other two later, this might change everything. But for now she would wait, see how it all turned out, act when it became necessary for her to do so, and hope they all ended up sending each other to an early grave. 

Chapter Text

Laurits was… unhappy to say the least, that much Turid could tell from the way he stormed in without a word and went immediately up to his room, slamming the doors with a little more force than perhaps necessary. She looked up from where she was cooking in the kitchen, making dinner for them and Eric (Who she was looking forwards to seeing later). 

“Laurits!” She called, hoping he’d help with the cooking, though was unsurprised when she got no reply. After a second of waiting for a reply that she knew would not come, she placed down the peeler and the carrot she was in the middle of preparing, rinsing her hands quickly before climbing the stairs with a sigh. It was in her motherly duties after all to check Laurits was okay. 

She hesitantly nocked on the door with her knuckle, leaning near to the wood and calling out to her son once more, “Laurits, Are you okay in there? Would you mind helping me with dinner?” She enquired, hoping to god this was the right thing to do in this situation.

Again, she got no reply, and thanks to the new lock Laurits had decided to install on his door after the whole… tapeworm… debacle- she doubted she would until Laurits decided to share with her, “Well… you know I’m always here for you if you need to talk? I went through just the same things at your age…” She paused, “Anyway, I’m going to get on with tea, you’re welcome to help if you’d like, and Eric is coming round at 7.” She finished, and with a final sigh, she turned her back on the door, full of her now familiar feeling that she was a rather incompetent parent. Perhaps she’d bring it up to Eric later.

⚡️⚡️⚡️

On the other side of the same door, Laurits was currently panicking- after all, he did not want to be experimented on, nor coerced into joining their spandex-covered super boyband. His current internal monologue sounded a lot like ‘Shitshitshitshit-‘ as he desperately shoved clothes and stuff he might need into his rucksack. He had to get away fro a bit, just until the so-called Avengers sodded back off to America and left him and his… pet alone. 

Magne. Magne would cover for him. Say he went on a camping trip with mates or something.

The door knocked. Shit, he was out of time.

He could hear his mother’s surprise as she opened the door to the eclectic American heroes, and he quickly nipped across the landing to his brothers room. Luckily, the big oaf wasn’t off plotting Laurits’ death with his high-and-mighty friends at the moment. “Magne, I need your help.” He got straight to the point, still trying to do up the zip of his stuffed bag as he spoke, “Tell the circus downstairs that I’m not here, that I’m staying somewhere else or something-“ 

Magne frowned, evidently slow to catch up, his concern for Laurits causing his brain to grind to a halt, “What did you do Laurits?!” He enquired, and Laurits would have took offence at the fact that it was automatically his fault, if Magne wasn’t usually right about that. There were more pressing things on Laurits’ mind at the moment anyway.

“I… may’ve revealed… what I can do, in order to protect Jörmungandr, who is still alive by the way, and currently a good bus high and living in the fjord.” He winced at having to reveal everything, but he didn’t have much of a choice at this point if he wanted Magne’s cooperation. 

Magne took a worrying second to precess all of this, whilst Laurits momentarily panicked that his brother would just bite the bullet and kill him now, however before Laurits had chance to give up and just start running, Magne spoke again, “Okay. I’ll tell them you’ve gone, but we’re talking about this later.” 

“Yes, fine, now open your window.” Laurits agreed impulsively, moving towards Magne’s window, already fiddling with the latch. If he could’ve, he’d have preferred to go out of his own window and not involve Magne at all, but Magne’s window was the only one near the drainpipe - other than and the stairs, there were no other ways down to the ground. 

Just as he heard his name, he fearlessly slid out of the window onto the ledge before grabbing the drainpipe, beginning his slow decent as he heard Magne close the window and make his way downstairs to cover for Laurits. Maybe he was good for something after all.

~

“Magne! Laurits! There’s some people here who want to see you!” Magne’s mum called as he descended the stairs, before politely excusing herself to make dinner at the sight of her eldest son. Magne was slightly surprised at his own inclusion in that, though he didn’t have much time to question it before he was stood right infant of the Avengers, and face-to-face with his alien counterpart. 

It was strange really. Where his reflecting in the Jutul’s bathroom mirror had been his ‘true form,’ awakening something within himself, this was something different, like looking in a haunted house distorted mirror, the image reflected back distorted and idealised by time and modern styles, not to mention the ridiculous alien outfit. Still, for now he had a job to do in order to protect his brother, and Magne wasn’t going to let the storm currently raging within himself put Laurits in danger.

“Sorry, Laurits went camping in the mountains with his friends just this afternoon, you just missed him.” The man who had previously seemed perfectly happy exchanging pleasantries with his mother - Captain America Magne assumed from the outfit - stepped forwards with a polite smile.

“That’s alright Son, do you know when he’ll be back?” He enquired, leading Magne to shrug noncommittally. 

The man with the rather out of place bow and arrows stepped forwards, looking slightly weary of Magne after what he’d evidently seen Laurits do, “We also thought we might have a chat with you? We hear you’ve been claiming to have powers that we’d be interested in, and if your brother has them… well, these things can be genetic.”

That, Magne was not expecting. Really, he should’ve after the whole debacle a couple of months ago. “I-“

“Really, you’ve cherry-picked your rumours, everyone including his psychiatrist agrees that Magne is delusional and schizophrenic. It’s really not fair to entertain his fantasies like this.” Godamit, Laurits had evidently not gotten out of earshot. 

The heroes all turned to see him, rucksack slung over his shoulder, walking towards them without a care in the world as iff he hadn’t just shimmied down a drainpipe to get away from them, “Forgot some underwear.” He commented to Magne as he wandered past, straight through the group, most of whom had assumed he’d made a run for it. As he reached the door he turned dramatically as I f noticing the group at his door for the first time, “What is this lot doing here? Waiting to kidnap a bunch of kids?” He commented, a couple of the Avengers looking distinctly uncomfortable, non more so than Captain America, however this didn’t stop him from stepping forwards to speak once more, 

“We just want to talk to you two. About who you are and what you can do.” He commented, attempting to diffuse the tension which had suddenly infused the air around them, “You won’t have to go anywhere or do anything you don’t want to-“

“And if we don’t want to talk to you?” Laurits cut in, though Magne placed a placating hand on his shoulder,

“What harm is there in talking to them?” He finally accepted, and despite Laurits’ disbelieving look that clearly detailed every harm, he continued, “I know a place we could go to chat.”

And despite himself, Laurits followed, after all, who else would be there to keep his idiot brother out of becoming a full fledged super hero?