Shards (A Percy Jackson and Avengers Crossover)

Goat Yoga And ESP Powers-Not Even (Kid)ding

Percy stared at the door before him, his right hand hovering over the smooth wood. He hesitated and finally dropped his fist.

Did he really need 'mental training'? And from Loki, no less.

Nope, he decided. He spun on his heel, ready to leave. I'll be fine.

He paused. Would he, though? He was talking about Tartarus here. Percy chewed on his lip thoughtfully.

Maybe he could use a little help. If he didn't like whatever Loki was doing, he could just leave.

Percy spun back around and raised his hand, intent on knocking. His fist stopped half an inch from the door.

Perhaps... this was a bad idea.

"I can hear your indecisiveness from here. Either come in or leave, little godling. Stop hovering. It's annoying."

Percy couldn't help but jump at the sudden voice from behind the door. A blush spread across his cheeks.

"R-Right." He cleared his throat in an attempt to cover up his embarrassment. "I'm coming in," he announced to the door before opening it.

Mental training with the god of mischief to fight a crazy hell primordial. What could possibly go wrong?

Loki was facing away from him when he walked in. Percy glanced around the room curiously. There wasn't much to see. The room was pretty bare, save for a few books and other necessities. Which made sense, considering the fact that Loki's visit was impromptu. Plus, Loki was basically a prisoner here, so Percy shouldn't have really anticipated anything too fancy.

Still, Percy couldn't help but pout a little. Considering that this guy was a crazy Norse god (of mischief, no less), who also happened to be an exiled prince and a mass murderer to boot, Percy'd been expected a little more.

Loki motioned for him to sit down with a hand, not bothering to even look up from his book. Percy settled into the floor silently. He sat criss-cross-applesauce, feeling like he was back in second grade with Mrs. Stank.

. . . yes, that was really her last name.

Percy shuddered. While she may have not been a crazy Fury trying to kill him, she was still just as scary. She'd been the strictest, ugliest teacher seven-year-old Percy had ever had. He'd had nightmares about her until fifth grade. Honestly, Percy wouldn't have been surprised if she had been a harpy. She did look very similar to the ones at camp. . .

Percy glanced up, shocked when he met the green eyes of the trickster god. Loki raised an eyebrow questioningly at him, his book lying shut beside him.

Percy cleared his throat again. "Uh, did you say something?" His hands fidgeted in his lap more than normal, portraying his humiliation.

You'd think Percy'd be more used to this.

Loki sighed. "Yes, I did." He watched him for a second before shaking his head. "Let's just get started. The first step in your training is to heighten your senses to feel the seiðr around you."

"Seiðr?"

"Yes. It is another word for magic, or rather a specific type of magic." Loki looked at Percy's confused face. "It matters not. Just think of it as your power. But not the power inside of you. The power surrounding you. There's always a small amount in the air, but large amounts gather around living creatures. Mortals and other lower animals only have a little. Demigods have more, but higher beings, like gods, dwarves, elves, Jotuns, Fire Demons—"

"Wait. Wait. Wait." Percy waved his hands. "Dwarves? Elves? Fire Demons?!" His voice got higher and higher. "What in Zeus' name are you talking about?!"