Blue Moon| Book 1 | An Avengers fan fiction series| *under editing*

20- A Blue Moon (*)

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~Sierra

Chapter 20: A Blue Moon

After I change, I walk outside. Once again, the intense heat strikes me, and I take a deep breath to try to adjust myself. It's a little busier now, with S.H.I.E.L.D. workers running around, most of them unarmed, but a few with large, frightening looking guns. I avoid them, particularly those with dark masks covering their eyes.

I make my way down to the path, hopping over tree roots and the occasional tall leaf. Above me, I hear the chirring and clattering of what I assume are hundreds of tropical birds. I lick my lips, feeling the moisture on them as I continue down the path.

"Where are you going?"

I whirl around to see Loki walking behind me. As he stops, his arm flicks a few of the plants, including a couple large elephant ears that smack me in the face. Loki's smile fades when I tear the leaves off their stalks and throw them to the ground. "And I thought we were all past this, really."

"Past what?" I snap, digging the heel of my boot into one of the leaves. "You killing my brother? I don't think so."

As I walk past him, he pulls me back. "You never answered my question."

"I don't need to answer to you," I say, trying to tear myself from his grasp. He lets go of me easily, causing me to stumble into some of the foliage. Loki grins.

"What's going on here?" Both of us turn around to see Natasha walking up from the path from the tree house.

"Nothing," I snap, ignoring Loki's eyes staring at me. "I'm ready."

"Ah, so you're training her," says Loki, now diverting his attention to Natasha, who merely raises an eyebrow but does nothing else. "Well at least I will have a bit more competition."

I am about to lunge at him when Natasha says quietly, "Let's go, Thea." It takes all of my self restraint to calmly walk past Loki and follow Natasha. I hear him chuckle softly behind me. "Ignore him," says Natasha as she leads me up towards a clearing slightly elevated from the ground. "He's just trying to cause trouble."

"God of mischief," I mutter.

The clearing, as it turns out, is a giant training field about half the dimensions of a football field. There are soldiers and agents scattered around, many practicing their skills with dumbbells, lances, guns, bows and arrows, and even their bare hands. I find myself overwhelmed by the scene and hesitantly follow Natasha towards a corner of the field, where Barton is firing arrows at a target some sixty feet away.

"Stark radio?" asks Barton. I jerk my head up and look at Natasha eagerly, but she is just shaking her head.

"No. But he said later today."

Barton nods, then looks at me. "Well, let's get started. Do you want to start with fighting or bow and arrow?"

"Aren't they both fighting?"

"True. But I consider the bow as more of an art." With a snap of his arm, Barton whips out his bow and flings it to its full size. He then seizes an arrow from the quiver on his back and before I can blink has sent it hissing through the air. It lands in the exact center of the target with a short, final, and deadly thwick.

I consider both options. "Fighting. Then bow."

Barton nods. "I'll let you go with Natasha then, and catch up with you later."

Natasha hands me a pair of thick gloves. "Put these on." With a glimmer of a smile, she says, "I'm not going to be easy on you."

She keeps her word. For the next two hours, Natasha leads me through a grueling process of combat. Within minutes, I feel beads of sweat trickling on my forehead. When I try to wipe them from my eyes, Natasha says, "Don't waste your time. Seconds can mean you survive." She whirls me around and I fall to the cushioned ground, hard. "Or you die."