#red is caught by nøkken

[vagueandominousvibes]

Anyway, Four Swords AU but it's all Scandinavian folklore

[spideythot]

Can I request another Nøkken fic? Maybe like Officer Rogers or Officer Barnes are searching for Peter since MJ and Ned told them they lost him in the woods. And one of them finds Tony in the middle of the lake and he of the looked over to him before Tony gets him under water just like he did with Peter. ? ❤💙

So I changed the prompt a little bit, but it does feature Steve and there will be a part two with Bucky!

Since this is fiction I’m taking liberties with mythology again! Also the second part will have more sex, but here’s a small snippet!

Thank you to both @babyboy-peterparker and @arachnioxide for the inspiration ❤️💙❤️

Peter is turning into a Huldra/Skogsrå and two detectives ultimately pay the price for finding him.

Peter x Tony x Steve, slightly nff. Part 1 here

———

Peter’s changing. He’s only noticed it recently, after he caught his reflection in the lake one morning. There’s a hole developing on his back. He can feel it and touch it, reach into it. It feels like tree bark, and he should probably be worried... but he isn’t. Tony hasn’t said anything about it, so it’s probably normal. He’s probably had it his whole life.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been in the woods, living with Tony in the cave under the lake. Eventually Tony showed Peter a way in and out of the cave that led to land. So he spends his days wandering in the woods now. Peter never ventures too far from Tony - he can’t bare the thought of being alone in the forest again. Peter’s not sure was Tony does when he’s not playing his violin in the lake or the river that feeds the lake. But it doesn’t matter - Tony takes care of him, loves him, so he doesn’t ask.

Peter’s noticed his eyes glow too, like Tony’s, he can see better in the dark, though he never stays out past sunset anyway. He strolls through the woods mostly naked now too, unbothered by the weather and flora. Peter tries to cover what’s below his waist, something in him telling him to stay modest.

He was skipping through the woods in the early morning, collecting little wild flowers and berries, when he saw a man walking his way. Peter ducked behind a tree quickly to avoid being seen. He watched the man from afar. Tall, well-built, and blonde. He was dressed in dark blue, with shiny silver baubles and buttons. He was talking into a little black box.

“Buck! Bucky!” He said, “Come in, dammit!”

He sighed and started to move back the opposite direction. Peter followed him, attempting to stay hidden. Suddenly the man turned toward him and shouted, “Hey!”

Peter gasped and turned tail to run. He could hear the stranger stomping behind him and calling. “Wait! Kid! Stop!” He cried, “Peter!”

Peter paused and hid himself behind a tree. The man stopped too. He panted briefly. “That’s your name, isn’t it?” He said, managing to catch his breath.

Peter peeked at the man from behind the tree. “Peter Parker, right?”

Peter frowned at him. That name... he had heard it before. But was it his? He couldn’t remember. Tony sometimes called him Peter, but he usually used pet names. He hid behind the tree again and clutched at his head. He could remember faceless people calling that name - his name? His... friends? A woman - Family? No... he had always been with Tony, right?

“Kid, Peter,” the man was at side now. “It’s okay.”

Peter jumped at the sound of his voice and scooted away on the forest floor. The man held up his hands and shook them. “No, no,” he said, squatting down near Peter. “Its okay! My name is Detective Steve Rogers.” He pulled a small piece of thick paper from his pocket and held it out for the boy.

Peter hesitated, but then took the little card from Steve’s hand. He ran his thumbs over it, reading the words: Avengers Detective Agency, Captain Steve Rogers. He glanced over at Captain Rogers, who smiled softly. Peter returned it and handed the card back.

“I’m glad I found you Peter,” Steve said, putting the little paper back in his pocket, “Your family in New York have been worried.”

Peter frowned and turned his gaze back to the woods. He didn’t know what a New York was, but his family was with Tony.

“Tony’s looking for me?” He wondered out loud.

“Tony?” Steve asked, “Who’s Tony?”

Peter’s eyes met his once more. “I never go too far from the lake,” he said, “Tony says it’s okay as long as I come home before dark.” That’s when it gets dangerous in the woods, but he didn’t tell the detective that.

“You live with someone out here?” Steve asked, his gaze narrowing. It made sense - Peter being held captive by someone. That’s why all the search parties found nothing.

Steve took in the small boy in front of him more closely. Thin, a little dirty from running through the woods in nothing but loose shorts and no shoes. His skin was all marked up, soft purple-red bruises dotting his throat, chest and hips. Whoever this Tony was, he was using Peter as some kind of sexual slave.

“You want to see?” Peter asked him quietly. “Where I live?” That could be exciting, though he wasn’t sure what Tony would do. Maybe he could convince Tony to let him keep this detective man.

Steve nodded. He should investigate, collect evidence, possibly make an arrest. Peter smiled and took Steve’s hand. They both stood, and Steve allowed himself to be walked through the woods with the boy. Peter knew exactly where he was headed, into thicker and thicker forest. Peter led the stranger to the lake, pointing as he saw it. Steve followed the boy’s finger with his gaze but paused when he saw a man standing in the shallows.

Peter gasped at the sight of Tony. He was shocked to see him so close to the shore.

“Peter, darling,” Tony greeted, “I was wondering where you ran off too.”

Peter stepped toward the man, ready to leap into his arms and kiss him silly, but Steve’s hand tightened around his arm.

“You’re Tony,” he said to man standing in the water. “You’ve been keeping Peter here?”

“I’ve been taking care of him,” Tony replied. “Come here, Peter.”

Peter wriggled free from Steve’s grasp and ran to Tony. He didn’t hear Steve shout for him to stop, or the gasp the detective let out when he saw Peter’s back. He whimpered and twisted in Tony’s arm in an attempt to hide it.

“I think you’ve got the wrong boy,” Tony addressed Steve again. He quickly hid Peter behind him. “This one is mine.”

Steve glared at Tony. “He’s coming back to New York with me and my partner.”

Tony growled at him, his eyes flashing red. No one was taking his boy from him. Especially not some human or his “Partner?” He snarled.

Peter made a soft noise from behind the man. Tony tilted his head toward the boy, and Peter seemed to whisper to him. Steve only held his glare, his hand moving toward the stun gun he had on his belt. He had to get Peter away from here. Had to get a closer look at the - injury? - on Peter’s back.

But then Tony’s eyes softened as he returned his gaze to Steve. He stepped aside and revealed Peter to the detective again. “You want this boy so badly, come and take him.”

Peter stood the in water, staring curiously at Steve. He hesitated, eyes darting between Tony and the boy he had to save. Peter gave Steve a soft smile and turned toward Tony slightly. The man had a violin in his hands - from where, Steve hadn’t noticed - and he was walking deeper into the water.

“Peter,” Steve pleaded, “Come with me. Don’t be scared, you don’t belong here.”

Peter shook his head. “N-no, I want to stay,” he replied. “Tony loves me, he takes care of me. Out there - people will hurt me.”

“Peter, that’s not true,” Steve argued, “Tony is the one who’s -“ He paused, hearing music floating through the air. A soft, lonely melody. His head snapped toward Tony, the man playing his violin in the water. The music filled his head, filling his thoughts like a lullaby. Peter sighed happily, drawing Steve’s attention back to him.

He had missed how beautiful the boy truly was - with his big, brown eyes and soft, rounded cheeks, and pink, bow lips. His lithe little body swayed to the music. Steve watched Peter’s tongue dart out to wet said lips.The boy batted his eyes at the detective.

“Tony’s my master,” the boy said softly. He beckoned to Steve and the man trudged into the lake without hesitation. “He makes me feel so good.”

Peter touched Steve’s shoulders, fingers tugging at the fabric of his uniform. “He can make you feel good too,” Peter said, as Steve leaned down. His eyes widened, seeing Peter’s lips part. He shouldn’t - this poor kid had been through enough - but the haunting melody grew louder, and swallowed his thoughts again.

Peter pressed his body against Steve’s, fitting perfectly in his arms. He was warm, despite the cool water they stood in, and just a soft as Steve had imagined. Steve could feel Peter’s cock grinding against his leg. The boy was naked now, his shorts sinking in the water below them. Peter’s small hand cupped his own hardening length, groping through his slacks. “Kiss me,” the boy begged.

Steve’s reluctance faded, the violin consuming it all, and he obeyed.

[lavendersam]

The Longest Night of the Year

introduction

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10

previous

Rook awoke next to warm ashes in the fireplace, to the sounds of a new day’s work beginning on Redwheel farm.  As she blinked awake, she caught the scent of breakfast wafting from the farmhouse’s kitchen and she remembered that she had skipped dinner to go running off into the woods last night.  Her clothes were dry on the hearth next to her, and she looked furtively around before shedding the large blanket and quickly slipping into them.

She had just finished tying off her breast band when Teron walked into the room.  He gave a started “Augh!” and recoiled away from her, putting his hands up to block the sight.  “What the shit, Bridget?”

Rook sighed in exasperation.  “Oh grow up, Teron. My clothes got soaked last night.”  She pulled her shirt over her head and started doing up the laces.  “You’re welcome, by the way,” she added.

Teron looked her up and down with a horrified expression.  He let out a disgusted and disbelieving “Ugh!” before turning and stomping away.

“Wha- I meant for saving your sister, not - argh!”  Rook snorted in frustration.  Finishing up getting dressed, Rook went into the kitchen and got breakfast.  Orna served her porridge with honeycomb and toasted acorns, and let her know that Kaeli was doing fine.  Every other member of Redwheel stopped by to thank Rook or clap her on the shoulder, and it was solidly mid-morning by the time she got bundled up and walking down the road towards town.

The day was bright beneath a light grey ceiling of snowclouds across the sky.  Rook got back to the inn, and was immediately swamped by all three innkeepers, demanding to know if she was okay, what had happened last night.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” she said.  “I fell into a snowbank, but...but I found Kaeli. Orna made me sleep at Redwheel last night.”

“Yes, Jaan told us, but -” Elias shook his head.  “Sit down, we’ll get you some food.  I think you should take the day off today.”

“But the festival -” Rook protested.

“We’ll put you to work plenty hard tomorrow, but we’ll get by without you today,” Elias said.  “And you should go home and check in with your family, I’m sure the story has reached your parents by now.”

Rook sighed and nodded.  Elias smiled, and he and Galen went back to the kitchen while Medran sat Rook down by the fire.

“So what happened?” the thin man asked, cleaning his spectacles and tilting his head at her.

Rook hesitated.  She hadn’t told Medran about what had happened on Midsummer’s Eve - hadn’t told anyone except Alyona, and even with her it took a month or two to work up the courage.  Alyona only vaguely remembered the wild story of faeries and a missing heart that Rook had told her while she was shaking off the remnants of the Rusalka’s spell.  To Rook’s surpise and relief, however, Alyona believed her.

”You said your name was Rook?” Alyona had said.  She pondered the name for a moment. “Hmm...It suits you.  I’m not sure why, but it suits you.”  She shook her head, smiling.  “Gods.  I can’t believe you made a faerie deal like that.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Rook protested.

“Run back to the village to get help!” Alyona laughed.

Rook’s eyes widened and the words she was about to say died on her lips.  She blinked a few times.  “...Oh,” was all she said.

Alyona put a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with laughter.  She wiped a tear from her eye and patted Rook’s cheek.  “Aw, Bridget.”  She looked up into Rook’s eyes, a bright smile across her face.  “Well, thank you.  For doing the brave and foolish thing.  I suppose it saved my life.”

Rook felt her face growing warm, and couldn’t help but smile back.  “Of course,” she said.

Alyona’s lips pursed in thought, then she smiled and said, “Close your eyes.”

Rook raised an eyebrow, but did as she was told.  She tried not to laugh when she felt the air from Alyona waving a hand in front of her face.

“You’re not peeking?”

“I’m not peeking.”

“Good.”  There was the sound of movement, and then Rook felt the lightest pressure of soft, warm lips upon hers.  It was gone in an instant, and Rook’s eyes snapped open in time to see Alyona stepping back from her, her cheeks bright pink and eyes cast shyly downwards.  She hooked some of her long hair behind an ear and glanced up at Rook.  “Well...there’s your reward for saving a fair maiden,” she said with mock seriousness.

Rook grinned like a fool, and made a showy bow.  The conversation moved on, but Rook had felt a small warmth on her lips for the rest of the day.

Despite Alyona believing her story, Rook didn’t have much hope that many others in the village would take her word for it.  But like her, Medran had a true name, and although he always seemed to have his head in a book or in the clouds, Rook knew he was a deeply insightful person.  Maybe he would know something useful?  She took a breath, and then quickly and quietly told him what had happened last night, only leaving out the fact that she had met the Nøkken before...and her encounter with woman in the red cloak.

Medran listened intently, without interrupting, and thought for a while before speaking.  “Well, that does sound serious.  Have you spoken with Tala or Taisin about this?”

“I...” Rook had approached the priestess once since Midsummer, to ask if there were any old ruins in the woods north of the village.  The older woman had immediately asked why Rook wanted to know, with a shrewd suspicion that startled Rook.  She quickly made up a not entirely untrue story of Teron leading her and Alyona into the woods to look for them, but that they didn’t find any.  This seemed to satisfy Tala, who admitted to hearing rumors of an old church from a forgotten age lost somewhere in the mountains nearby - one dedicated to the worship of something other than the gods.  She then made Rook promise never to go looking for them, and that was the end of any conversation with the priestess.  As for Taisin...the greenwitch was rarely seen in the village, even for festivals.  She lived far from everyone else, on the edge of the woods with the village huntress.  Rook preferred not to bother her.

Medran smiled.  “Dangerous faeries might their area of expertise.  You might want to tell one of them what happened.”  Just then, Galen and Elias returned with food, and Rook was left to her thoughts.

She had just finished eating when the door to the inn opened and Alyona stepped inside, her cheeks pink from the cold.  She smiled when she saw Rook and bounded over to her.

“What did you do?” she asked, grinning as she sat down beside Rook.  “The story’s all over town.  What happened?”

“I...” Rook glanced across the bar at Medran, who winked.  “...I’ll tell you the whole story, but I need to back home and check in there.  What are you up to today?”

Alyona smiled.  “Nothing I can’t put off.  I’ll walk with you.”  The two put on their coats, waved goodbye to the innkeepers, and stepped out together.  In the inn-yard outside, Crane had opened up his cart and several people were coming by to look through the odd assortment of items and trinkets he was selling.  Alyona slipped her hands around Rook’s arm as they passed by, and Rook couldn’t help blushing as they walked past what felt like half the village arm in arm.  Together, they walked up the snow-packed road out of the village and out towards Rook’s family farm.

“Have you looked at Crane’s cart yet?” Rook asked.

Alyona sniffed.  “Yes, but I didn’t find what I was looking for.”

“Oh?” Rook turned to look at her.  “What was that?”

Alyona looked up at Rook with a curious expression.  “A hairbrush.  Why?”

Rook shrugged and tried not to smile.  “Just curious,” she said.

Once they were out of the village and skirting Della’s orchards, Rook told Alyona about everything that had happened last night...everything except the woman with the burning eyes, which still baffled Rook.  She didn’t seem like one of the Fair Folk - for one, she was helpful, offering assistance freely and without price.  A mystery for another time, however, because right now Alyona was talking to her about the Nøkken. 

“What are you going to do?” she asked.  “Sleep with a horseshoe under your pillow from now on?”

“I’m not sure,” Rook said.  “I think I might talk to the priestess about it?  She might know what to do, if anything.”

“Hmm...well, even if she knows how to defend against the fae, I don’t think she can save you from snowball attacks!” 

“What?”

Alyona didn’t even bother making a snowball.  She just dipped her mittens into the snow and sent a spray of powder up into Rook’s face.

“Ack!”  Rook laughed, and tossed some snow her way as well.  Alyona hit Rook squarely with a snowball, then Rook tackled Alyona into the snow.  The two of them went down laughing.

They arrived at Splitbrook farm in the early afternoon, just in time to catch Rook’s aunt Muriel making lunch.  Alyona and Rook hung their coats up to dry, and spent a loud, bustling hour eating in the kitchen while Rook’s many brothers and cousins came through to grab a bite, say hello, and press Rook for the story of last night.  Rook didn’t say much, and wasn’t able to get many words in anyway as family members hugged her and mussed her hair and told her how much they missed her since she’s been spending so much time working at the inn.  Rook’s father made sure to tell her, “Go talk to your mother before you go again.  She’s out in the pasture, and would hate to have missed you.”  Rook promised that she would.

After lunch, Rook and Alyona went out to the barn to see their old horse Clover.  She was happy to see them, and happier to see the apple piece Rook brought out.  While she was there, Rook found a spare horseshoe and slipped it into her coat pocket.  They stopped by the edge of the pasture where Rook’s mother was cutting branches off spruce trees and visited with her a bit.

“Are ya sleeping here tonight, or are you heading back to town?” she asked, looking between Rook and Alyona.

“I should sleep at the inn tonight,” Rook said.  “They’ll need all the help they can get preparing for the festival, and I promised Galen I’d go gather chestnuts tomorrow.”

Disappointment touched her mother’s face, but she nodded.  “I understand.  I miss you though.  Farm’s not the same without you, you know?”  She gave Rook a hug.  “Take care, bug.”  She let Rook go and smiled at Alyona.  “Come back soon, though?  And feel free to bring your...friend with you.”

Alyona blushed a bit, but thanked Rook’s mother for the invitation.

By the time Rook and Alyona got back to the village, it was almost dark.  “I should get back home,” Alyona said.  “I’ll have chores to catch up on.  But...” She gave Rook a wide smile.  “I’m glad we took the day off.”

Rook smiled back.  “Here,” she said, and handed Alyona the horseshoe.  “For you to put under your pillow.”

Alyona took it, but looked up, worried.  “Are you sure you don’t need it more?”

Rook shook her head.  “I’ll go talk to Tala now.  Promise,” she said, when Alyona raised an eyebrow.  “Besides, I’d feel better knowing you had it.”

“Well, alright then.” Alyona smiled.  “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Rook said, grinning.  

The two said goodnight, and Alyona took the path up to the mill.  Rook watched her go, then turned back towards the village.  It was almost completely dark, and all of a sudden she realized that she was very hungry and very cold.  She looked longingly at the warm, bright light in the inn’s windows on the far end of the village, where Crane had already shut up his cart and smoke was rising from the chimney.  Rook sighed, and reluctantly started walking the other direction towards the village shrine.

next

[lavendersam]

The Shortest Night of the Year

introduction, part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

previous

On her journey with the Rusalka on midsummer’s eve, Rook was challenged to a game of riddles by a fae man known as the Nøkken.  She managed to win with a very, very poor riddle, and now she and Rusalka are following a dryad who has agreed to help them traverse the forest more quickly.

They didn’t walk too much farther into the woods before Aspen stopped by an unusually thick aspen tree.  “Here we are,” she said, and stepped into the tree, disappearing into the banded grey bark of the trunk and vanishing from sight.  Rook looked up at Rusalka in confusion, who smiled and disappeared into the tree as well.  Rook swallowed, steeled herself, and followed.

It felt weird.  Darkness pressed upon her, clogging her mouth and nose with the taste and scent of green wood as she was overwhelmed by the sensation of being rushed quickly down a stream and buried in the earth all at once.  And as quickly as it began, it ceased, and she was standing outside a different aspen tree, and Rusalka and Aspen were there waiting for her.

“Good luck, Rusalka,” Aspen said with a smile, and then disappeared into the tree, leaving Rook and Rusalka alone in the woods.  Rusalka looked around, and then pointed into the forest.  “This way, I think,” she said.

They walked in silence for a while before Rook spoke.  “Rusalka,” she said.  “How did you lose your heart?”

Rusalka didn’t speak for some time.  Then she said, “Last year, I left my pool and wandered the forest to enjoy the midsummer night.  I found an old human ruin, and that is where I met the Red Woman.”  Her voice was breathless, and here eyes drifted into memory as they walked.  “We spent the night together.”  She was silent for a moment or two, then shook her head, returning to the present.  “I returned to my pool before dawn, but in the morning I discovered that I had left my heart behind.”

“Oh.”  Rook took this in.  “It wasn’t - you just - oh.”  Rusalka just smiled, a little sadly, and the two walked on.

At this point, Miranda broke character again.  “So, her heart wasn’t like, stolen? She just - metaphorically left it behind, and also literally left it behind?”

I smiled, and shrugged.  “Fairies.  Anyway, I need you to make me a Constitution saving throw.”

“What?  Um, okay...uh, oh that’s not good.”  She winced.  “Eight?”

“Alright, so -”

As Rook and Rusalka walked through a tangle of tall, thick grass choking the forest floor, Rook found herself becoming quickly, incredibly hungry.  It was certainly past midnight, and hours since she had eaten, but the sensation came upon her so quickly and painfully that she doubled over.  “Rusalka?” she called, panic in her voice.

Rusalka turned in surprise, and her eyes widened.  “Rook!”  She put her hand on Rook’s back as Rook clutched at her stomach.  “Rook, I am sorry - I forgot you were mortal, and what the féar gortach would do to you.”

“The what?” Rook gasped, before doubling over in hunger pains.

“Hungry grass,” Rusalka said.  “A spirit of chaos that carries a curse of hunger.  Look.”  She pointed through the trees, and Rook saw a shriveled corpse leaning up against a tree, half-hidden by the tall grass.

“What do I do?” Rook asked through gritted teeth.

Rusalka patted Rook’s back in what was probably meant to be a comforting gesture.  “Do you have any food? Enough to last you until we reach the edge of the grass?”

“I have the pomegranate the Nøkken gave me.”

Rusalka shook her head.  “No, not that.  You wouldn’t be able to stop eating, even once you were free of the féar gortach.”

“Could...could I give the pomegranate to it?” Rook said.  

Rusalka looked surprised.  “I - I had never considered that.”  She bit her pale lip.  “It’s worth a try?” she asked.

Rook nodded.  Reaching into her pocket she pulled out the pomegranate, but he sight of fresh food sent a shock through her.  Her hand involuntarily pulled the fruit towards her mouth, her jaws opening.  She strained her muscles, but couldn’t stop her arm from raising the pomegranate to her lips.  Finally, in order to keep herself from biting into the fruit, she used the last of her will to move her head and sink her teeth into the meaty flesh at the base of her thumb.

The piercing pain in her hand cut through the haze of hunger clouding her mind.  Quickly she dropped the pomegranate into her other hand and threw it at the shriveled corpse.  The féar gortach moved, its bony arm snapping out and catching it out of the air.  In two quick, sharp movements, the corpse tore open the pomegranate and started picking out out seeds, placing them into its mouth one by one with dagger-like precision almost faster than the eye could follow.  Instantly, Rook’s hunger disappeared, and Rusalka helped her stagger forward and out of the tall grass.

“How long will it be eating that?” Rook gasped as she caught her breath up against a chestnut tree.

Rusalka shook her head.  “I...I do not know.  Forever, I suppose.”

Rook looked up at Rusalka, staunching the blood from her bitten hand with her shirt, and could not help but smile.  Rusalka gave a small smile in return.

“Come,” she said.  “We are very nearly there.”

next