Lexis's POV:

I've not seen nor spoken to a certain God of Mischief ever since the little incident. I am glad he is leaving me alone. I never needed that monster anyway. Even if I find I do require his assistance in the future, I can simply hypnotise him anyway.

It's been about a week now. Thor has left to go to Asgard, which is apparently in a completely different world. It sounds really interesting, but very few people can go there, so I won't bother to ask. It's not important anyway.

I've become more friendly with Natasha and Wanda recently. They enjoy having another woman around. They say that it's a real 'sausage fest', in Tony's words that Wanda and Natasha tend to quote. They never tell me when I ask what it means.

I've kept my walls up constantly to keep Loki at bay. I don't want him in my head anymore. I can't believe I defended the monster who caused my parents to die and banished me to an eternity of hiding on land. No, not just me. The curse effected us all. Our entire school all those decades ago. Then the entire Stone Siren race fell victim to the curse, too.

I've been reintroduced to the training room by Steve, who sets me up with a training dummy since I can't exactly spar with anyone. Steve coached me as I swung my barb, occasionally stepping in with advice on how to improve. He still said he was surprised he didn't need to correct me more often, though.

"Do you train often?" He asked me. "I have done so every day for decades," I confirm. "I used to have a routine back home. Training lasted for at least three hours."

"Twenty-one hours a week?" He seemed impressed. "Without fail," I confirmed. "Unless, of course, something prevents my ability to train. I still had to hunt for food, though, so it is not like I never practiced on a live target."

"So what do you do when you're not training or swimming?" Steve asks. I have to think about it for a moment. "Not much, to be perfectly honest. It was either I was training or swimming for the most part."

"Jeeeeeeeeeeeeez you need a hobby," a familiar voice dragged out. "I was not talking to you, Mr Stark," I sigh. "Well you need a hobby anyway and don't act like I'm lying," he shrugs, taking a seat near us.

"Go ahead and fight, just ignore me if it's possible," he holds up his hands. I point my barb at him. "I assume you shall merely comment?"

"You know me so well," he confirms. "My only wish is that I had popcorn." I don't bother to ask what 'popcorn' is and instead get on with my work when Steve does. He's decided to switch me to another weapon, this one a sword. It's lightweight and sturdy, I find after using it to slice at the air.

Steve has me practice against him. He's using a sword identical to mine; basic and practical. I've not used a weapon like this for years, but it's not that hard to relearn. It's a little like using my barb, just with only one end, so that helps.

I end up getting the sword's tip pressed lightly against Steve's throat. One little movement and he'd be dead. We held the position for a moment to make sure we both knew that he had been bested before I withdrew my sword. "You are a worthy opponent, Mr Rogers," I say. "But whenever I fight, even if only to train, I fight with a purpose. You cannot match up to that, not here at least."

He seems to understand, or if he doesn't he at least knows the basics of what I'm saying. "You're not bad yourself," he compliments. "And you can just call me Steve."

"Unless he's in spandex, then you call him Cap," Tony piped up. Steve rolled his eyes. I pluck my barb from the ground and retract it, putting it back away. "And what would I call you? Hideous? Or would you prefer a different name than usual?"

This got Steve laughing and for the rest of the afternoon Steve and I continued to train together with Stark as our snarky one man audience. It was actually very enjoyable. I found myself being able to relax even when I had the blade of a sword at my throat.

Steve is a surprisingly good opponent and instructor. He knows when he's been bested and doesn't pretend he wasn't. He takes his losses in good sport. He fights fair and well, not holding back if he thinks I can handle his full abilities. I've never trained with anyone else before, but I like it.

"Right, that's enough for today," Steve says after what only feels like a few minutes. The time had gone by in a blur. He wiped some light sweat from his forehead. "How long have we been at it?"

"Five hours," Tony announces. He's been switching between watching us and heading out to do who knows what. "By the way, Thor got back an hour ago."

"He did?" Steve seems relieved. "Great! What do you say we get some food, Lexis? Then we can see That should draw Thor out."

"I shall take your word for it," I state, putting the sword away. "Very well. I am looking forward to seeing Thor again, I must admit."

Steve, Tony and I head down the corridors until we reach the kitchen. Nobody else is there, so Tony starts filtering through storage units for anything of interest. "Any preferences, anyone?" He asks. "Floor's open."

By 'the floor is open', I assume he does not mean that there is a large hole in the floor? I ask Steve telepathically, to which he grins. "He means that anyone can say their opinions, Lexis. He is open to the ideas of the people in the room."

I nod in understanding. That makes sense, I suppose.