Black Star: The Legend Begins

εᒪ︎𝓔︎Ｖ𝓔︎𝓷

YOU, Peter, Tony, Natasha, Clint, Steve, Thor, Bruce, Rhodey, Hill, and Dr. Cho are all gathered in the biggest lounge area. The party ended a little more than an hour ago, and glasses are still littering nearby tables. You’ve been eating Chinese take-out while arguing about the logistics of who is and isn’t worthy of Mjolnir, which is placed in the middle of the coffee table like a centerpiece.

“But it’s a trick.” Clint frowns.

Thor shakes his head. “No, no, it’s much more than that.”

“‘Ah, whosoever be he worthy shall haveth the power.’ Whatever, man! It’s a trick,” Clint insists, spinning his chopsticks in his hand.

“It’s Asgardian,” you argue.

“Please, be my guest.” Thor smiles at Clint, motioning to Mjolnir.

When Clint doesn’t move, Tony looks at him. “Come on,” he urges.

“...Really?”

“Of course,” Thor says.

Clint rolls his eyes but stands up anyway.

Rhodey grins. “Oh, this is gonna be beautiful.”

“Clint, you’ve had a tough week. We won’t hold it against you if you can’t get it up,” Tony calls out.

Ignoring him, Clint turns to Thor. “You know I’ve seen this before, right?”

Thor just nods, and Clint wraps the strap at the base of Mjolnir’s handle around his wrist. He tries to lift it, a grunt escaping his lips. After a couple more tries, he gives up, laughing. “I still don’t know how you do it!”

“Smell the silent judgment?” Tony asks him.

“Please, Stark, by all means.” Clint gestures to him, then to Mjolnir.

“Yeah, get up there, Dad!” you shout gleefully, sipping the Shirley Temple you finally got from Nat.

Tony obliges, stands up dramatically.

“Okay.” Hill smirks.

“Uh-oh,” Rhodey adds.

Every inch a diva, Tony walks over to Mjolnir. “Never one to shrink from an honest challenge,” he declares, wrapping the strap around his wrist.

“Get after it,” Clint eggs him on.

“It’s physics,” Tony explains.

“Physics,” Bruce repeats doubtfully.

“I don’t think science will save you this time.” You grin.

“It will,” Tony says confidently. “So, if I lift it, I then rule Asgard?”

“Yes, of course,” Thor answers, only slightly sarcastically.

“I will be reinstituting prima nocta,” he decides as he tries to lift the hammer. When he’s unsuccessful, he props his foot on the coffee table, using that as leverage. When that still doesn’t work, he removes the strap from his wrist, looking around the room defiantly. “I’ll be right back.”

Whirs fill the air as Tony tries to use his Iron Man glove to help him pick up Mjolnir. A moment later, Rhodey joins him, War Machine glove encasing his wrist.

“Are you even pulling?”

“Are you on my team?”

“Just represent. Pull,” Rhodey insists.