Doomed Never To Find

by tilthewheelsfalloff

"You're not handling Odin's death very well, are you?" "Odin as I knew him died long ago. I know my place now." She regarded him with a gentle tilt of her head. "No, you don't."

1. Spring into Summer

AN: Written with Cathress

Doomed Never to Find

Chapter 1: Spring into Summer

Loki strode through Nyrlif, his head held high and his hand wrapped around a small dagger that was concealed by his bracer.

As he passed through the centre, the heads of the newly-settled Asgardian people turned to stare and whisper. He carried on until he found himself ten strides away from a large but plain wood cabin that had Huginngard carved into it. The door, which was decorated with gold paint that twisted and knotted into the shape of a ravin, swung open with a bang that made birds take flight, cawing indignantly.

"Brother!"

"Thor," said Loki.

"Heimdall warned of your return."

"So it seems he was correct."

Thor didn't know quite what to do with himself for a moment, but then rushed forward to embrace Loki. "Thank the fates," he whispered into Loki's ear. "Thank the Norns; I thought you a dead man, Loki. I thought you wouldn't return."

"Well, I'm here now." Loki said, pushing Thor away gently. He looked well; strong as ever, but strange without the presence of the Mjolnir. His hair was longer, tucked behind his ears, but it still lay awkwardly without it's normal length. Loki took some pleasure in knowing how embarrassed Thor would be, bereft of his oft-complemented mane.

"Wherever did you go? Why didn't you say you planned to leave?"

Loki was just about to open his mouth to lie, when he heard a thunk! behind him. It was the Iron Man, his glowing hand making a high-pitched whining noise.

"Long time, no see, Loki. We wondered where you'd got up to."

Loki smiled. "I merely traveled Midgard for some time. But I'm here now."

The Iron Man snorted. "Yeah, you're not just waltzing back in here."

"Who are you to say where I may go?"

"I'm Tony fucking St-"

"What's happening?!" Yelled Korg from inside a tent. He struggled inside trying to untie the entrance, his large body poking the material into odd shapes. Loki, Thor and Stark watched on, no-one particularly sure or inclined to help him. He eventually burst out, and yelped. "Ah, shit, it's Loki! Where's Iron Man?"

"I'm literally right here! Jesus, do you need your eyes tested?

"No," Korg said defensively.

Loki sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. Others had stepped behind Stark; Natasha Romanov and a strange humanoid being that emitted a powerful energy that Loki could feel from some paces away.

Thor wrapped a heavy arm around Loki's shoulders. "Let us go inside. We have much to discuss!"

"Hey, hey, hang on! He can't just walk back in here and right into the throne cabin!"

"We decided not to call it that, Stark," Thor said crossly. "And whyever not? He's my brother!"

"He killed humans! He's unsettled! Unbalanced!"

"My friends! Really, does he look unbalanced?"

All eyes were on him, now. He couldn't help that he looked tired and gaunt, but he had put braids in his hair and kept his lightweight armor in good condition. He smiled, attempting to look meek.

"He looks like a heroin addict," Stark replied.

Loki doubted Thor knew what heroin was, but he still crossed his arms defensively. "Do not speak ill of him. This place is as his as it is mine or Brunnhilde's or Heimdall's, and that is that. If you have a problem, you may leave my ward."

Stark did not like that at all. He was silent for a few moments, then said, "whatever. But I'm not babysitting."

So Loki was ushered inside, still under the wing of Thor. The cabin was modestly sized, but larger than most in Nyrlif. At the centre was an ornate wooden throne, setted with colourful stones likely found on the shore of the nearby Lake Semerwater. It sat on a plinth of roughly cut stone.

Either side were archways cut into the logs and there was another at the back. Assuming Thor had laid the building out similarly to the throne room of Asgard, the left would be the council room, the right the royal armoury, but the far doorway did not exist on Asgard. Loki assumed this would be Thor's bedchambers.

Thor lead him through to the left, which was labelled Muningard, and - yes, Loki was right - a long table was the feature of it. Thor sat him down opposite to him as Heimdall and the other mortals filed in.

"What has happened to the rest of Earth's Mightiest Heroes?" Loki asked with a small sneer. Just a little one. For prosperity.

Stark removed his helmet and stood at the head of the table. "This is us, now."

"Oh dear," Loki said innocently.

"Shut up, brother. Play nice. This is Natash—"

"The spy, I remember," Loki interrupted.

"Ah, you do! Well, Banner, who you know. And this is Vision, who is an artificial intelligence."

"Hi." The strange thing lifted it's hand in greeting. Loki felt a wave of magic dissipating through the air, which twisted oddly in his gut. He knew that magic from somewhere.

"Where did you find this?" He asked, pointing to Vision.

"I made him," Stark said.

Loki glanced between them. "You… made him."

"Accidentally." Vision sent Stark a side glance but didn't comment.

"Yes, that would explain it," Loki smirked.

Stark sighed. "Thor, could you please make your brother shut up?"

"Shut up, brother."

Loki put his hands up and made a sewing motion over his mouth.

"Okay, Edward Scissorhands, here's the deal," Stark put both fists on the table menacingly. "Your sceptre has caused a lotta issues for us."

"The sceptre wasn't mine."

"I thought Thor told you to shut up. Thor, didn't you just tell him to shut up? Shut up, Loki. It's caused issues. And not to mention that you, as a person, sitting here, also caused issues."

"I see," Loki said.

"So that's why you can't just come back."

"Stark!" boomed Thor. "This is my ward! You cannot give orders!"

"And whose land is this? Huh?"

"Both of you, please," Romanov sighed. "Be civil. He's here now - where on Earth could we send him?"

"He's not Asgardian. He doesn't have a asylum here," Stark argued.

Thor stood up, enraged. "He may not be Aesir, but he is still my brother! Stark, what is your grudge against him? You only met for mere moments!"

"He killed people, Thor!"

"We've all killed people," said Banner quietly from the corner. Every head turned to look at him. "We're not exactly saints."

Stark groaned. "I hate it when you're right, Brucie. You can't give a man a break, can you?"

Stark pressed a button on his suit and it began to peel away, sliding and compacting into a platform that he stood off. Without it, he looked far less imposing in a silk shirt and tight chinos. He sat at the head of the table and leant backwards on his chair.

"Thor, can you actually say he won't go all crazy on us?"

"Yes."

"How can you guarantee that?" Romanov asked.

Thor looked between Romanov and Stark and lastly, Loki. Loki just waited, his face blank, sharp eyes meeting Thor's.

"Brother?" He asked.

"Yes?"

"Are you not sworn to protect the King of Asgard?"

Loki swallowed and nodded his head. "I am." Thor made a facial expression and hand gesture that summarised to see?

Romanov interrupted, pointing at Loki. "That's not a reason. Lots of people are sworn to protect things they betray. Why should we trust his word?"

"I am right here, you know."

"Fine, then," she turned to face him, uncrossing her arms, tilting forward slightly. Loki recognised the tactic; lean in, open body language, maintain eye contact, inspire truth and honesty. "Loki, why should we trust your word?"

Loki mirrored her, but intertwined his fingers in front of him. "You shouldn't." He slid his gaze over to his oaf of a brother. "To be frank, Thor, distrusting me was the smartest thing your head has ever been able to conjure up. But I know, Thor, that you are struggling."

"How could you know that?" demanded Thor, wide-eyed.

"Because you never listened, ever, and that was your downfall. You never attended history lessons, logistics, all that makes a good ruler outside of the blood and pace of war. But I have." He looked around the table. "I am one of the most powerful sorcerers in all the Nine Realms, second to none I have ever faced. I can create matter, destroy it, trick the eye and mind, heal flesh from scorched bones. You would rather I was on your side than against you."

Stark sat up, suddenly interested. "You can heal bones?" Loki inclined his head. "Could you heal paralysis?"

"And who do you have in mind?"

"A friend."

"Loki-" Thor tried to interrupt, but Loki held up a hand to silence him. This, he knew, was his bargaining chip to win over Stark. Ha! He didn't even need to figure it out himself; Stark had just blurted it out all of his own volition.

"Bring them to me and I will prove this to you."

"No. You're not just gonna walk in here and put your greasy hands all over my friend's sexy body. Nuh-uh. Not happening."

"I will wash my hands beforehand."

"Not the point."

"Why request this of me and then refuse when I agree? It's nonsensical."

"You're not just coming in here, and expecting us to actually trust you, are you?"

Loki felt a sharp flare of anger. "As I have said, I don't expect trust, but I do expect a sense of propriety."

"Propriety? What is this, Pirates of the Caribbean? Look, you're a fugitive, a murderer but moreso, a liar and who even knows what you want? Like, why are you here? Why didn't you stay on that party planet? Hell, I'd stay on the party planet. Who wouldn't? But you decide to come back here and offer to help. And what, we're supposed to all, 'yeah, guys, it's fine, the homicidal megalomaniac has decided to join the scooby gang!'?"

Loki glanced to his brother. "Thor?" He said hopefully.

Thor shrugged. "He is kind of right. You're my brother, always, but I feel your motives have been lost long ago. As I said, our paths diverged."

"You won't defend me against these mortals?"

Thor bristled with anger. "Tread lightly, Loki. These mortals are my friends."

"Am I not your brother, Crowned Prince of Asgard, or do you only call me that when it is convenient?"

"Br- Loki!" Thor cried. "Do not twist my words so! I only want what is best for Nyrlif and the Avengers and you."

Loki laughed coldly. Norns, this was bad, but he couldn't get himself to just shut up. Thor made his anger rise like no other; being questioned by these mites of mortals was worse. He felt like he was almost on the edge of hysteria. "If you wanted what was best, you would have been a leader, not a vain, impractical, inefficacious boy of a king!"

Thor stood up, practically vibrating with anger. "Know your place."

"Is my place not to whisper advice in your ear?" he asked coldly. "Like how Odin always wanted?"

"I am offering you a place in my Kingdom, Loki. Keep your anger bound if you know what's good for you."

Loki laughed and sneered. "Some Kingdom, oh mighty Thor. Two hundred strong and mortals who flitter in and out like flies around the corpse of Asgard. Your soldiers are lost in other Realms, your Jane Foster refusing to even speak to you, and you can't even keep a schedule for buildings." Loki felt the anger coil as he delivered his killing blow. "You'll never compare to Odin Allfather, Thor. You'll only ever be in his shadow."

There was a crushing silence after that. Loki's breathing was as heavy as Thor's, and the mortals were looking wide-eyed between the two of them.

"Get out." Thor said harshly.

"Fine. I will be-" He realised he didn't know the layout of the new Asgardian settlement. "I will be around," he finished with a snarl, before storming out of the cabin and into Nyrlif.

###

Loki heard footsteps behind him. It was Brunnhilde, a green glass skull full of liquid in her hand, sauntering over the rocky shore of Lake Semerwater.

"Greetings," Loki said.

"Hiya," She replied. "So, the wayward son returns."

"As have you."

Brunnhilde plonked herself down next to him, swaying with drunkenness. Loki and her had formed a half tentative, half abrasive camaraderie on the ship from Asgard to Midgard. They didn't strictly speaking trust each other as absolutely as Loki had his old shield brothers, but they drunk, sparred, and joked. "Oh, I only left to get away from Thor. Duty this, stop drinking that. Tiring. By the way, have you heard of absinthe?"

She held up the glass bottle and undid the screw top. "I've never known drink so strong," she said gleefully, taking a swig. "Want some?"

Loki took the bottle and sipped. It burned wickedly; he spluttered and she took it off him before he could spill any.

"Careful! This is from Pilsen!"

"Bless you," he said, sniffing. "Is that what you left for? Alcohol?"

"So?" She said defensively. "What'd you leave for?"

He looked up at her, then out over the lake pensively. "To save my hide."

She snorted and shook her head. "Ah, how they fall from grace. You're hardly in with the Grandmaster on Midgard, are you?"

"Unfortunately not. I killed some of their people and they still haven't gotten over it," he said. "Midagdians. So sentimental."

"It went well, then? Meeting the… What are they called? The Defenders?"

"It started well. I even offered to heal one of their own. But I think Thor does not wish me to."

"Why not?" She took another swig.

"We are not in a battle," Loki said, putting on a deep, booming voice. "Brother, you should not use your magic outside of battle. It is embarrassing."

"That's stupid," she informed him.

"Yes, well, he never was one for reasoned thought."

"He does strike me as a bit old fashioned. I'm surprised he likes me."

"Thor likes women," he said ruefully, smiling to her, "regardless of their position. Me, however… I find myself on thin ice."

"He did mention his love and respect for women," she said. "Perhaps that is our only thing in common."

Loki turned to look at her. She wasn't quite smirking, but there was a sharp glint in her eye. "I was told you had a male lover, back on Asgard, some time ago."

"Who told you that?"

"Grandmaster."

"Yes, I did." She looked across to him slyly. "And I think you are not one to talk."

Loki froze, expecting some kind of snide insult or thinly-veiled disgust, but none came. "My, you are perceptive. I wonder how, given your drinking?"

"I'm drunk, not blind. You turn up, all slimline armor and little smiles, and not a week later the Grandmaster invites you into his court? Ha."

He shrugged. "One must do what it takes to survive."

"Do what it takes indeed," she said, a small smile before she took another drink. She handed it back to him wordlessly. He took it, and tried not to cough this time.

They sat there, in silence, passing the poison back and forth, looking out over the lake.

###

Brunnhilde wasn't gone for long when Loki heard the heavy footsteps falling behind him. He would know Thor's footsteps at the end of the world.

"I am not in the mood for more insults, brother." Loki told him without looking away from the view. He was glad Stark chose this little plot in Ohio. Though it had few similarities to Asgard, asides from mountainous forests, it was still beautiful. Or, rather, as beautiful as Midgard could get. Hate the Realm Eternal though he did, it's beauty could not be surpassed.

"Good. Nor am I."

Loki looked up at him. "Your mortal friends are infuriating."

"You are infuriating," Thor responded pettily. So he was still angry at Loki, then, but not much more than usual. Thor had a near unerring ability to forgive Loki and laugh about everything mere hours later - making Thor finally turning on him all the more surprising.

"I am, but I was expecting some level of courtesy. I did help you defeat Hela."

"You also attempted to betray me… three times in one week. Let's not even begin on the times in the past few years."

Loki suddenly wished Brunnhilde hadn't taken the disgusting drink with her. "I have returned to help."

Thor finally sat down beside him, resting his arms over his knees and keeping a smooth pebble in his palm. "Why did you go? It made you look guilty."

"I didn't particularly want to be shot on sight," he said dryly. "I figured I would explore Midgard and give you time to turn their favour in my absence. I obviously should have been gone longer."

"My friends have been through a lot since I left. Tony, he has been betrayed by one he trusted most," Thor explained, and then sighed. "The atmosphere has changed - this is not the Midgard I landed on all those years ago. They have all lost much and do not want to risk more. To them, you are too big of a risk."

Thor threw the rock into the glassy calm lake.

"So much they will not allow me to heal? Attempt to fix one of these losses?" Loki felt the electric change in the air and a roll of thunder sounded in the distance.

"You must see where they are coming from." Thor side glanced at Loki. "That little display of anger will not fare well in their opinion of you."

"They didn't want me to help before that," Loki said. "My magic is a tool, and I will use it. Even if you don't want me to."

"You should not use your magic so freely. I do not wish to be embarrassed in front of my friends."

"They do not see the problem. And nor do I. Your distinction between magic in battle and magic outside of it is thin, Thor. You cannot have it both ways."

"It is unbecoming of a Prince," Thor said lowly.

"You sound like father."

"One of us has to."

"No, actually. You should be your own leader, not another Odin. Odin made many mistakes, and I was one. He should have told me about my heritage sooner, or raised us differently. He should have told us about Hela. He should have protected mother. There is so much he should have done."

Thor was silent for a few beats, and Loki could practically feel the cogs turning. "I want to be good King, I do not want to make mistakes. But do not know how to do that," he admitted quietly.

Loki turned to face Thor; he was staring out into the water, looking lost. He reminded Loki of his childhood self, for a moment - drowned in the face of oncoming responsibilities so large it was nigh on unthinkable. Thor only had some 200 to look after now, but the Nine Realms would not wait long.

"Allow me to help you. That, brother, is why I returned."

Thor turned to Loki, a small smile crossing his features. Slowly, he said, "I will speak to the Avengers. You must be able to agree on something."

"I will be as accommodating as possible," Loki promised.

###

Loki walked through the town again, just as the sun was setting. This time, he took more care to look at each face as he passed. The streets - if they could be called that; they were, in reality, more like slowly forming mud paths - were lined with bored, idle people.

He turned a corner onto a side-street that was at a right angle to the main one; which led onto Thor's cabin. It was lined with large tents and in-construction wood cabins, where a few men struggled with the next log while others milled around. He paused at the sight of one of them. He knew that face.

The men stopped working when they saw him, but weren't really sure how to react. One bowed, and his friend next to him gave him a glance.

"Naftali?" Loki called out.

Naftali stood up straight from where he had been slouching on a post. "Your highness," he said unsurely.

"I'm glad to see you made it," Loki said. "I was looking for someone make me some new clothes."

Naftali shrugged. "I would, your highness, 'cept I don't have any of my old kit. I haven't known anyone go hunting, either," he said.

"Really? No one's gone hunting?"

"All we have is swords from Hela's attack. Can't kill a deer with a sword. Your Highness." He added.

Loki hummed. "I see. Are there no bowers? Fletchers?"

"I don't know."

"So, what is your role here?"

"We're building, sir."

Loki looked at the men struggling with the log. One of them dropped it onto their foot and howled, hopping around in pain. "And when the buildings are finished? The needed works are done?"

"I'm afraid I don't know. Can you not speak to your bro- Thor-King about this?"

"Yes, but I'm asking you."

Naftali just shrugged again. "We don't really have any plans that I know of. Thor just leaves us to our own devices, more or less."

"Right," he said. "Do any of you know if a cartographer survived?"

"Cartographer? What for?"

"Cartographers make maps."

"Yes, I- I know that, I was asking why you needed a map."

"Is there one of the area?"

"Well, no. I don't think."

"Then that's why I need a map," Loki drawled.

One of the other men spoke up. "I know of one. Mórekr."

Loki smiled at the man, trying to hide his increasing irritation. "And where's he to be found?"

As it turned out, Mórekr was to be found at the community hall, south east of Thor's lodgings. And he was to be found drunk off his arse, laughing raucously at his own joke.

Loki rolled his eyes and grabbed the man by the lapels, throwing him into the back wall. Icy silence descended on the previously jovial atmosphere of the hall.

"You are Mórekr?"

The man was trembling. "Y- Yes, your- your highness."

"The cartographer."

"Y- Yes."

"And have you made a map of the area?"

"No, your highness," he snivelled.

"And what good," Loki breathed into his ear, "is a map maker who doesn't make maps?"

He swallowed. "I don't know, your highness."

Loki dropped the man onto his feet, but he stumbled and slid down the wall. Loki bent down to look at him in the eyes. "Make me a map," he snarled. "Two akrlengd squared, from the centre of the settlement. Then another, which includes all of Lake Semerwater in the centre, and five akrlengd all directions. Yes?"

"Loki," said a calm voice from the doorway. "Stop terrorising the citizens."

Loki turned slowly and saw Vision. "I wouldn't have to if they weren't so damn lazy." He narrowed his eyes are the strange being. The thing set him on edge. "Stark created you, correct?"

Vision inclined his head and took a few steps inside. He looked deceptively docile with his high collar and fleece, but Loki was hit again with that same wave of magic. "He did."

Loki approached slowly. That magic was one he knew - it was familiar, like a smell long forgotten from childhood, or the ghost of a loved one lost in someone else's words. "How?" he asked.

"Stark misconstrued the truth before. It wasn't so much an accident as a shot in the dark. I was made from J.A.R.V.I.S., crafted to protect life."

"Yes," Loki whispered, feeling drawn to the being. "But how?"

They were but a wingspan away, now. The magic that rolled off him was intoxicating - he didn't know how the other Aesir couldn't feel it. Could stand it, being so strong and whispering so gently; come closer, little one, and I'll lead you to power beyond what you know.

"Loki," Vision warned, frowning. But Loki was already holding his hand out, reaching towards the gem at the centre of his forehead. He knew it, and it was his.

Then his stomach dropped as he realised. Oh, Gods, no, not this, not this, not this-

He stumbled backwards, away from the call of the stone, sickness flooding him. From his call. "No. It can't be." The words fell from his mouth as he retreated, struggling to keep upright. The gem nestled in the being's forehead was that of Thanos' sceptre.

Vision stayed put, watching with curious eyes, "I will not harm you."

Loki was caught between a grimace and a snarl. "How can you know that? Are you some agent of Thanos? I will not go back to the Mad Titan, I will not.

"No one is sending you to Thanos," Vision said calmly.

Loki carried on, his head light. "That stone- it is not controllable, it is more than your wildest dreams, to be blessed-" He struggled with the words, feeling them tumble out without thought or design. "Blessed," he stuttered.

"Those are not your words," observed Vision.

The room was suffocating and the ghost of that magic was playing with his mind. He couldn't—

"Get out of my way," cried Loki, looking up through wayward strands of hair.

Vision stood for a moment and Loki reached for his magic. Before he could use it, Vision gave him a curt nod and drifted to the side, allowing Loki to flee from the room.

###

Thor led Loki into the room opposite to his as the long day finally came to a close.

"It's yours."

"Mine." Loki smiled, chuckling softly. "You built me a room even though you didn't know I'd be here to stay in it."

Thor shrugged. "I had a good feeling." He turned to face Loki. "Where did you go for so many weeks, truly?"

Loki licked his lips. "Midgard," he lied. "I explored. You know me. Restless."

"Aye. You did like to leave when we were adolescents."

"No different. A whole new realm - I'd never given it the time it deserved. I always thought there was more interesting elsewhere, but the societies on Midgard… There are so many. So complex."

Thor nodded. "Well, 'tis good to have you back. And if you will leave again…" Thor looked at him with large eyes. "Please, at least tell me where you are going."

"You have my word, oh, mighty King."

Thor shoved him, laughing. "Piss off."

"You've been spending too much time amongst the Midgardians, brother."

"Ah, they aren't so bad," Thor admitted. "Certainly not the worst to share a world with."

Loki hummed and approached his bed. Thor took the hint and waved his hand. "I will speak to you in the morning."

"Yes. Good night, brother."

Thor then bid his leave, Loki sat down on his bed, looking around the room. The new settlement had brought up uncomfortable memories he had long tried to push away. Memories of a family, children, his helpmate Sigyn.

He tried to shake away the flash of images that always fell together like a grotesque staccato beat; Váli's form morphing and twisting into that of a wolf; claws and canines snapping at Sigyn, who lay in a pool of azure blood as Loki was dragged away, screaming, by a pack of Valkyries.

They would have loved it here, in a dense forest surrounded by nature, and only a small settlement of people. It reminded Loki of that home he had all those years ago.

Loki turned to lay down, for the first time noticing the mirror leaning on his table. He saw himself; how tired he looked. With a shout of anguish, Loki felt his magic lash out without his will, needing more of a reaction than this insensate room. More chaos. The glass of the mirror shattered as if hit with a mace and fell to the ground in shards.

It still didn't feel like enough, but it would have to do. For now.

###

Loki stood at the head of the table, not daring to sit in what would be Thor's chair, but wanting to command a presence. Around him sat Thor, Stark, Romanov, Banner, Heimdall, and Vision at the doorway. Loki was thankful for the distance - no one had called Loki to speak about the episode in the hall, so he could only hope Vision was keeping his mouth shut.

"I apologise for calling this meeting at such short notice," Loki started with. "But even after only one day here, I couldn't help but notice… issues. Primarily, that no-one has seen to a schedule of happenings; things being built, houses in particular, but later on, blacksmiths, armouries, tailors, tanners. What will we do when they need more clothes, for example?"

"I'll supply them with it," Stark said. "They've got all they need - they just need to build stuff. You can't nanny them into it. Besides, Thor said he had a plan."

Loki turned to Thor, eyebrow raised. "And what was this plan?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Step one… Build."

"Good start. Go on." Thor didn't; instead, he just stared at his hands on the table. Loki sighed. "They need a schedule. A plan."

"I don't see why," said Thor. "As Stark says, they can just build what they need."

"It is your duty to tell them what they need!" Loki cried. "Thor, are you really so stupid? Nothing is getting done - people are drunk in the streets! Those who build know little of building and where, exactly, is the king in all of this?"

"I was building my own lodgings," said Thor defensively. Romanov and Banner both sighed into their hands.

"You seem absent to them. You cannot just slink away at a time like this. I know you will still be mourning Odin's death, but you cannot-"

Thor slammed down his hands, a crackly of electricity skimming over his flesh. "And where were you, if you know so well!?"

"I told you. I was away," Loki said evenly. "I am not the king, Thor, but you are, and you need to start acting like it."

"Aaaalright, alright," said Stark. "Let's all just calm down a little bit here."

Banner spoke. "Why didn't you tell us you were struggling?"

"You all left!" cried Thor, looking desperate. "You all leave to sort your own business, only returning every so often, and it was just easier! The people seemed fine without me - no-one has died, no-one has left!"

Oh, Thor, thought Loki. You've really dug yourself a hole this time.

"We would've helped," Stark insisted.

"Throwing money around is not helping," said Loki cooly.

It was Stark's turn to be affronted. "What else can I do? Give them space, give them food, clothes - what else do they need? A fuckin' hug?"

"Purpose," said Romanov, looking at Loki, her sharp eyes glinting as she gleaned his meaning. "They don't have purpose."

Loki sighed and gestured to Romanov. "Exactly."

"How would we do this?" Thor asked, his voice no more than a mere whisper. Thor had never wanted to seek help on his charges, but Loki knew he was finally understanding that he needed it.

"Organise the people. Have you made a census?" Thor's silence was enough of an answer. Loki rubbed at his temples, feeling a headache coming on. Maybe risking death or captivity and staying would have been easier than fixing the problems now. "Then start with that. Find out who is who. From there you can more onto giving them jobs depending on what they did on Asgard or if they have additional skills. Have the builders build blacksmiths, tanners, for Asgard's sake, farms. We cannot live on Stark's money forever. We must be self sufficient."

Tony opened his mouth but Loki sent him a glare.

"The money was helpful to get us started, but that is all. Organise hunting parties - the old court leatherworker mentioned deer when I spoke to him. Fishing boats and nets for the lake." He glanced around the table, surprised to have everybody's full attention, with no quarrelling. Romanov even looked- approving. He then added, much more hesitantly, "we could also do with a building of magic."

Thor looked thunderous at the mere suggestion. "We do not need one. The rest I agree and will work on but you do not need-"

"Are you so blind, Thor?" Loki bit. "I cannot be the only surviving seiðr user - I fail to believe you have built as much as you have with no injuries - so a place of magic, of healing, is wise. I can help, but I cannot do it all, and I cannot do it forever."

"Healing?" Romanov spoke up before Thor could interject again.

"Yes. On Asgard we had a few places in which anybody with magical abilities would-"

"Any women with magical abilities." Thor corrected.

Loki rolled his eyes and waved his hand as if to shoo away Thor's words. "Yes. As I was saying-"

"Women?" Tony repeated, grinning. "Is magic a lady thing on Asgard?"

"It is." Thor said. "Or men of… shall we say, argr properties."

"Argr?" asked Banner.

"Unmanly," spat Loki, looking poisonously at Thor, who didn't seem to see the issue. Just as he was beginning to gain their favour, Thor ruins it with this nonsense.

Nonsense that has haunted you, whispered the darker recess of his mind.

Tony bent over laughing. "Oh, this is great. Thank you, Thor. Loka? Lokiya? Loklynn?"

"Just Loki, please," he said through clenched teeth. "Do you not employ women in your company, Stark?"

Stark rose an eyebrow, still smirking. "Of course I do."

"Your work, has it always been for both men and women?"

Stark's smirk faded and Loki's grew. "Uh… engineering and manufacturing used to be a boy's club, but the ratios having been changing. Almost equal now."

"And just because it's always been one way, it does not mean things cannot change."

"So you see yourself as the Rosa Park of wizards?"

"Sure, why not?" Loki said snidely. He didn't know who Rosa Park was, but Stark had stopped with that infuriatingly cocky smirk.

"More importantly than Loki's manhood," Romanov said, "this magic building can be used to heal? Which means it's like a hospital?"

"Similar enough, yes," Thor said. "Less needles."

"You need a hospital," said Banner reasonably.

Loki grinned widely at Thor. "At last, someone with some sense."

For a second, Loki wondered if Thor was going to say something so plebian and mortal as go fuck yourself, but instead, he sighed. "It can be done later. I see no pressing need for it - you can heal without it, I know you can."

"Yes, but some of the women will want one-"

"So?" Thor asked bluntly. "So what? Some want a tavern or a whorehouse. I cannot indulge in luxuries. Not at this time."

"A place of magic is not equivalent to a whorehouse,Thor, you egotistical, dim-witted brute. It is a place of balance - a place of-" Loki stopped himself sharply. "Fine. Have it your way. I hope you take my suggestions."

"Brother-" Thor began.

Loki felt the familiar fury begin to boil up in his gut. Restrain yourself, he thought. Just for now.

He took a deep breath, performed the laziest possible bow and cut him off. "I thank the court for hearing my suggestions, but I will have to excuse myself."

And if anyone had looked for him only ten minutes later, they would have found him nestled in between the broken shards of his bedroom furniture. Twenty minutes after that, they would have found him sitting calmly on his near-identical bed, picking a splinter out of his thumb.

###

A few days later, Loki found himself in Muningard, the council room, surrounded by papers, which were the results of the census. They had enough; only one blacksmith and his apprentice, but it would have to do until someone else could pick up the craft. At least they knew, now.

He didn't look up as Romanov entered. "You're not as stealthy as you once were," he noted.

"Perhaps I wasn't trying to sneak in."

"Perhaps," he said, glancing up at her. "Can I help you?"

"No, just wanted to make sure everyone's favourite god wasn't up to anything mischievous."

He gave her a winning smile that he intended for her to see through. "Oh, me? Never."

She chuckled and took a seat a few places away. After a moment, she said, "why are you helping?"

"Why, isn't the self-preservation of my own society enough?"

She shrugged. "I don't think that's the only thing up your sleeve."

He started a new sheet of paper, to tally the number of able bodied people. "Indeed. It is where I keep my daggers." Romanov smirked at that, and as Loki had seen, that was basically a full-on guffaw. He looked up at her properly, this time. She wasn't wearing her strange tight armour, but what passed for casual on Midgard, her hair tucked behind her ears. "You don't seem to hold the grudge against me the others do."

"We've all done bad things following orders."

"What makes you think I was following orders and that you have not let a - how was it Stark put it? Ah, yes. "Homicidal megalomaniac" - into your ranks?"

"You here and the you I met in the cell…" she said, looking him in the eye. It was unnerving that she wasn't scared of him at all; she regarded him as if they were equals. "You're not the same person."

He laughed and deflected. "You presume to know me well."

"Not well, but I know people."

"I am not a person like you."

"No, you're a monster, aren't you?" she said boredly.

Loki took a few deep breaths, trying to settle his startling fury. "I am of Jotunheim, yes."

"No," Romanov said, "where you are from does not make you a monster."

"Then what does?"

She leant backwards in her chair, sprawling and dominating. "I don't know, Loki. I think that's up to the person, isn't it?"

"Then why ask?"

"I wanted to know what you'd say." She smiled blandly at him. "That's a very interesting answer. Killing Jotuns, Midgardians, abandoning your father to die…To you, that's not monstrous. But being born of one particular race is?"

"Odin is not my father."

"Thor is your brother," she pointed out.

"Must they be mutually exclusive?"

She smiled and it reached her eyes. "Good answer, Loki."

He was unsettled, but tried to hide it by going about his business with the papers again. "Thank you."

"No problem." Romanov looked at her nails and then back at Loki. "You're not handling Odin's death very well, are you?"

"Odin as I knew him died long ago. I know my place now."

She regarded him with a gentle tilt of her head. "No, you don't."

He put down his pen and smiled blandly, masking the curl of sadness in his chest. "Was there anything else you wanted?"

"No, I think you've been quite helpful." She stood, tucking her chair in under the wooden table. "By the way, the Asgardians talk favourably of you after you helped them. I think if you kept that temper in check, you'd probably win more people over. Not everyone is happy with how Thor has been running the show."

"You'd be a fool to trust me," he said darkly.

"Everyone's a fool to trust. But they - the Avengers, Thor - they don't see it like that. So for their sake, and yours… Don't do anything stupid."

Loki picked up his pen again and carried on with the papers. She shrugged and exited without another word, leaving Loki to feel very, very unsettled about the whole exchange.

###

When the man named Rhodey turned up in a suit similar to Stark's, Loki watched him carefully, as he had each of the Avengers. He noticed quickly that he and Stark were very close, almost like brothers. He also noticed Rhodey never removed the suit, at least in Loki's presence; the furthest he came to removing it was it stripping down into just his legs.

No one seemed to comment on this - not even to tease him. A fresh wound, then, one still grating on the soul.

Loki approached him a few days after he arrived, casually as he could, while Rhodey was assisting with the construction of a new cabin.

"Would you like to walk again?" Loki asked him.

Without missing a beat, Rhodey responded, "I can walk." He glanced around at Loki. "Thor's brother, right?" He crossed his arms defensively.

Loki smiled, head tilting demurely. "Remove the suit and walk over to shake my hand. It's awfully rude to still be in full armour, is it not?" Loki created the appearance that his own armour had just melted into a black suit, and held out his hand. Rhodey regarded him carefully.

"And why would I willingly remove the suit in the presence of a man that could snap me like a twig?"

Loki dropped the offered hand. "Stark does."

"Yeah, well, Stark's an overly trusting overcompensating idiot."

He stared at Rhodey a moment longer, quickly becoming bored. "Would you like healing or not?"

For a moment, Rhodey seemed genuinely taken aback, then he smiled. "I don't know what you're talk about. Excuse me." He stepped around Loki and out the door. Loki watched him go, frowning slightly.

Loki slipped into the shadows in the air as he closed his eyes to create a delicate charm; not of invisibility, but of non noticeability. I'm not here, the air said around him, I'm nothing to look at at all. He also cast a muting spell around his person, to cancel out his footsteps and the sounds of his clothes shifting. He followed Rhodey out of the worksite and down onto the main street.

Rhodey stormed into the main hall where Stark was working with Banner, and Loki slipped in quietly before the door closed itself. They both sat up at Rhodey's entrance. "I thought we were keeping my injuries quiet," he near-yelled, "since we don't actually trust the God of Lies."

"We... are?" Stark agreed. "Aren't we?"

"He just asked me if I want to walk again. Who told him? Would Thor? Or can he read minds?" Rhodey paused. "Can he read minds?"

"Not that we know of. He probably just guessed." Banner shrugged, as though it were obvious. Both sets of eyes turned on him. Loki appreciated sharp, unassuming Banner - on the ship, they'd come to something of an understanding. I leave you alone, you won't bring out the giant angry monster. "Tony asked if he can heal paralysis and he hasn't seen you walk without the suit. He's not an idiot. More like a mad scientist."

"Or like the Joker, when the Joker dressed up as a nurse." Everyone turned to look at Stark. "What?"

Rhodey lifted his eyebrows, "so… can we trust him? To heal me, that is."

"He's been helpful so far."

"Helpful isn't trustable."

Stark shrugged. "I mean, you already can't walk without aids, how can it get worse?"

"God, that was bad on so many levels," Banner said, rubbing his face. "He could be killed for one, Tony!"

"Asides from that," Stark waved a hand.

"I'd rather not die, if that's good with you guys," Rhodey said dryly.

"He knows if he killed you, he won't make it half a mile out of town before he finds himself in a cage again."

"We couldn't cage him last time."

"We've got better. We get it more, this time," Stark reasoned. "And that Strange guy - he could help. Thor would help, too. He's not in his brother's pocket anymore. And besides, I don't think Loki is at full power right now."

Now, that was an interesting deduction.

Stark carried on. "He's pretty insistent over a "magic place". I think it's tied to his power, somehow - didn't Thor say he and Hela got their powers from Asgard? Maybe he wants to make something like that."

"Thor doesn't seem to be exactly struggling," Banner said.

"He's not got his hammer, though, does he?"

Banner shrugged. "I don't like assuming he's not at full power. He is dangerous. We know that. But we've got to decide if he's dangerous but on our side, because we know we can't trust him fully."

"But… I think if you want to risk it Rhodey," Stark eyed his friend up and down. "I've done what I can with the suit but if you lose it, if you- I don't think he'll risk losing our - if wobbly - alliance."

"He's on thin ice," murmured Banner, "and he knows it. He's even saying please and thank you."

Rhodey looked between the two and sighed. "I'm gonna have to think this over. I don't know."

Rhodey turned his back on the pair and left. Loki turned his attention to Stark who lent on the table running a hand through his hair.

"If Loki hurts Rhodey-" Stark shook his head, he looked haunted like a man who had seen hell and made it out by the skin of his teeth. "We've lost too many, Bruce. Clint. Steve-" Stark worked his jaw and fell silent again.

"He won't." Banner told him, but sounded as though he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince Stark. Loki was confused by the sentimentality; how could he know? Banner knew him best of the morals, but he didn't know him well by any means.

Unless, of course, Banner was saying it for the benefit of Stark. Oh.

They were silent for a few moments, sharing a meaningful look that Loki couldn't decipher, and then Stark stood up straight, a mask put in place and turned back to his work. Banner followed his lead, not mentioning Tony's moment.

Loki stepped out of the room feeling like he had seen something he shouldn't've.

###

Loki approached the large tent that was pitched just a little bit outside of the main settlement, at an odd angle. He tapped on the tarp. "Knock knock."

"Oh, piss off," said Brunnhilde.

"I haven't seen you in four days. What are you doing in there?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." Loki chuckled.

"Are you decent?" He heard a loud sigh, and her whispering, and another voice responding. "I don't care who's in there, just be dressed."

"Alright, alright, give us a moment."

Loki waited, admiring the view. Though it was a little bit further out, it was closer to the lake, and had a nice view over the clearing. Brunnhilde had chosen well, and somehow managed to retain her place, even after her short planned departure at the same time as Loki. After a few minutes, and a few giggles from inside the tent, the ties were finally loosened.

He pushed aside the door flaps and stooped a little bit to enter. Brunnhilde sat on her bedroll in her day armour whilst a blonde woman combed her hair, preening at herself in a vanity.

"Well isn't this all very decent," he commented, looking around the spacious tent, which was fairly neat and airy.

"You asked for us to be clothed," she drawled. "Drink?"

Loki nodded and she got up to go rummage in a crate with STARK INDUSTRIES written on the side. In it was a multitude of bottles in varying states of emptiness. "When was the last time you ate?"

"What day is it?"

"Tuesday."

"Three days ago."

"You should eat today, then."

She wrinkled her nose as she poured a glass of amber liquid. "Nothing good to eat. I never thought I'd say it, but I miss Sakkar. I mean, it was a shithole, but it was a good shithole."

Loki accepted the drink when she handed it to him. "I know the feeling. The Grandmaster at least had some respect for me, even if it was as a bedwarmer. Here I'm second rate."

"I suppose you can't really sleep your way to the top when it's your brother."

Loki laughed, spluttering over his drink. He over to the woman in the corner. "Such foul language in front of your maiden, Brunnhilde."

"Oh, she's heard worse," she said wickedly. The woman turned around and smiled shyly. Brunnhilde must have caught some expression in his face, because she frowned and said, "you should try find someone."

Someone. The thought was almost laughable. So many years later, he still wished for Sigyn, for his family; how could another compare? Even a bedfellow seemed cold and callous compared to it. And even if he was to try and find… something, he had extremely slim pickings. No one on Asgard had even announced a pregnancy - everything interpersonal had ground to a halt, more distracted by larger things.

"I don't think that's appropriate. Besides, 'tis Thor's turn."

"What, do you always wait for Thor to have someone before you can?"

Loki sprawled out in a comfortable chair and Brunnhilde did the same on the other side of the short table. Loki appreciated her lack of modesty - it was refreshing amongst Thor and the rest of his mortal friends. "No, but I fear the mortals find me… what is the word?"

"Sleezy."

"... I was thinking unsavory."

"How about a greasy-haired little good for nothing weasel?" The woman snorted from the corner.

"Yes, that's quite enough, thank you." Brunnhilde shot him a sharp grin. "I don't want to fall from their eyes any more. You know how they find all of it."

"I dunno, I haven't been told off yet." The woman stood and approached her, looking prim and presentable. "Are you leaving?"

"Mm," she hummed, "I fear my father may set off hunting dogs soon."

"Ah, well, fair thee well," Brunnhilde said, reaching up to kiss her. "Text me, yeah?"

The woman left and Loki caught himself smiling at the look Brunnhilde gave as she left. "A permanent companion, perhaps?"

"I'm done with 'permanent companions', to be honest," she said, taking a sip. "I find them to be rather short lived."

Loki downed the rest of his drink, knowing the feeling all too well. "Come. We should go to the community hall and get food."

"Ugh, what time is it?"

"Noon. Luncheon is being served."

She groaned but heaved herself up out of the chair. "I hope it's beef stew."

"It's soup."

"Fuck!" Loki laughed at the language and grabbed her glass off her, placing it on the table. "I don't want to-"

"Stop being a petulant child and sustain yourself, please," he said, dragging her out by her bracer.

Almost as soon as he did that, he was confronted by Rhodey at the end of the path. He looked between them, unimpressed. If Loki had been faint of heart, he may have blushed and attempted to explain himself.

Loki was not faint of heart.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" Rhodey said.

"Who is this guy?" asked Brunnhilde.

"Rhodey. A friend of Stark's. You'd better go on, I'll speak to you later."

Brunnhilde looked between them both but shrugged and said goodbye. Rhodey stared at him, thinking, hesitating. Loki waited patiently, knowing what was coming.

"If - hypothetically - you were right, could you really heal me?"

"Hypothetically," Loki said as he lifted his eyebrows, "I could. In fact, it is a fairly easy procedure."

"But you could kill me."

Loki glided towards him in a few quick steps until there were only inches between them. "If I wanted to, I could kill you right now."

He reached for his magic and created multiple projections of himself to surround them both. Rhodey took an unconscious step back and the familiar whine of Stark's weapons sounded.

"Brunnhilde is the closest one to us and I doubt she's going to run to your rescue," Loki and his copies spoke together in canon, grinning like a predator. "This petty suit is no match for me."

Rhodey's helmet slid up and Loki was certain Stark was already on his way, so he dispersed his copies and stepped back. "I have no reason to kill you," he said easily. "In fact, it would be to my detriment."

"And you have a reason help me? You don't even know me."

"Perhaps not but, the Asgardians, although not my people, they were so for many years. I want to help them and if that means helping the Avengers, so be it."

"So I'm a pawn to get everybody to trust you?"

Loki was growing bored once again. "They're not going to trust me no matter what I do. I made the offer because I can. You have my word I will heal you. That is all. Take it or leave it." He smirked. "Hypothetically, of course." He glanced up as Iron man appeared above the tree line, lowering himself to the ground beside Rhodey. "Stark."

"You okay?" Stark said, completely ignoring Loki.

"I'm fine." Rhodey sounded exasperated. "Do it."

"I presume this is no longer hypothetical?"

"It's not."

"Good choice."

"What? What just happened?" asked Stark.

"Loki's going to heal me," said Rhodey tiredly.

"Aw, fuck."

###

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you eat before," said Stark, who was munching away at some sweet confectionary the mortals enjoyed, "but you're really pigging out."

Loki threw the chicken bone onto his plate and licked some grease off his fingers, then smiled at him wolfishly. "It takes energy to heal, more so than other magic. Not only do you have to create, but you have to create to great accuracy, so that the body accepts the new flesh."

He picked up the last chunk of chicken breast whilst Stark spoke worriedly. "So it's possible for Rhody's body to reject this?"

Loki chewed while he thought and swallowed. "Yes, but I've never had healing be rejected. Though, I've also never worked on a wound so old, and I haven't worked on a Midgardian for some time," he added with a shrug.

"That's promising. You know," he said, leaning forward, "I don't really know how your magic works."

"Not many do."

"Way to make a guy feel special," Stark said. "Would you be opposed to me running some tests?"

"Yes, probably." Loki said.

"Okay, but would you do it anyways?"

Loki looked up at Stark, sharp-eyed. He tilted his head and grinned again. "Perhaps. What's in it for me?"

"An advanced understanding of where, exactly, your powers come from."

"I already have that. It's just not the answer Midgardian so-called scientists like."

"So where does it come from?"

Loki pushed his plate away. "All things."

"Then why don't I have magic?"

"Because," he said slowly, as if to a child, "you are of Midgard. There are very few who can wield seiðr on Midgard."

"So the planet you're from matters."

"Of course," Loki said, a little bit surprised at the jump, "as much as the dirt in which which a plant is sewn matters."

"Huh." Stark scratched his pathetic little beard. "So how many seiðr peoplewere there on Asgard?"

"That is a difficult question. All Aesir have some level of ability for magic, but it is usually restricted to substantially faster healing, and perhaps a party trick. Actual magic that can affect others…" He paused thoughtfully. "I'd say one in fifteen. Seiðr is far more uncommon. Perhaps forty or fifty in all."

"So not all who can do magic are seiðr."

"Most in America are literate, as I understand, and yet you are not all scholars."

Stark grinned. "You got me there. So you're a pretty rare bunch, huh? How many male seiðr people are there?"

Loki gave a cold stare, hackles rising. "I will not be made a mockery of, Stark."

He threw his hands up. "Of course not. I'm just curious. Asgardian culture seems so similar to ours, but also very different at times, what with the magic and the dying in battle and the eternal glory."

"There are probably equal amounts of those who can do magic that affects others amongst the male population. Most practice in secret, so there are only a handful of men who openly practice seiðr."

"And you're one." He inclined his head. "Isn't Thor kind of a magician too? He can summon thunder, rain, electricity…"

Loki sighed. "Thor wields power that is not his own. It was given to him at birth, but he was not born with it. He does not understand it; the Mjolnir handled the interconnectedness. It was the catalyst, not the chemicals."

"Right," he said thoughtfully. "So to perform magic, you've got to… what? Be at one with nature?"

To his surprise, Loki didn't terribly mind the questions when they weren't as accusatory as Thor's - Stark seemed to have a genuine and truthful desire to understand. That was not so easy to find on Asgard. It helped that Stark was not so simple minded as the rest.

Loki's brow drew together, thinking how best to phrase it. "It is not so simple as that. You must listen to the cosmos and know it well. All things have a state of being they are currently in, and a projection for the future. A fruit is to rot, or a rock to stay as the tides wash over it, or a wound to fester or heal. It is being able to control these fates through your own desire, knowledge, and understanding - that is what makes seiðr."

Stark was silent for a few moments. "Why is it so bad that men do magic?"

"I know not. Odin used seiðr, too."

He frowned. "But if Odin was a magician, then why doesn't Thor like you doing it?"

Loki waved a hand. "Thor cannot make sense between his arse and his backside." Stark bit a laugh. "Odin was accomplished in battle, and he was Thor's father. And he practiced more or less in secret - an open secret, as you Midgardians call it. I, however, chose not to. And for that, I am hated. Besides, there are behaviours we accept from our parents because they are the norm that we would never accept in our loved ones."

"That sounds familiar."

Loki leaned forward, interested. "Daddy issues, Stark?" he asked innocently.

He laughed again, delighted at Loki using mortal vernacular. "Why, looking for advice?"

"Why, I don't have a father."

"I'd say that's one helluva daddy issue." Loki raised an eyebrow and leaned backwards. Stark stood, gathered both of their plates. "I'll meet you at the stream. And by the way," he called over his shoulder. "You've got chicken in your teeth."

###

Rhodey, Stark, Thor, Romanov, and Banner all arrived at the beck where Loki was waiting patiently. Rhodey was shirtless, as Loki requested. Loki himself had sectioned off the front part of his hair into two braids that met at the back to stop it getting in his way, and was down to loose linen trousers and a longsleeve shirt with a string-drawn placket, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"Have you been hennaing yourself?" Stark asked with a smirk. He then immediately stumbled on a root, and it was only in grabbing Banner that he managed to stay upright.

Loki glanced at the rune symbols he had drawn onto his skin in thick black paint, made from charcoal dust and animal fat. "I will have to draw them on Rhodey, too," he informed them, then hissed when they got too close. "Do not step inside the circle or you will smudge it!"

They all simultaneously looked down to see a circle made of multicoloured stones with symbols carved into them, lying in the damp mud. He had chosen this place for that purpose rather than defile the inside of a building; inside the circle was runes he drew with two fingers, leaves from certain plants, and stones, all in an order they would not understand.

"Alright, Banksy, what next?" asked Stark.

"Rhody, take off your assists," he instructed. He did so, stepping out of them nervously, Stark and Banner either side for him to lean on. "Lie - gently! - down, in the centre."

They lowered him in. Thor shuffled unearly. "Brother..."

"Shut up, Thor, it is only because you will not let me build a place of magic that I have to resort to this," he snarled. "Now, may I see to the patient? I ask of you all to be silent unless it is necessary to interrupt me. Speak now, or hold your incessant tongues."

Banner crouched down to where Rhody lay and placed a steady hand on his shoulder. "Anything wrong, shout, and we'll stop it, alright? I'm here after to help. Good luck."

"Thanks, doc," Rhody whispered, putting on a brave face. Loki noted the thin sheen sweat on his skin and heartbeat visible in his throat. He was anxious, and scared, Loki noted, rather hating the observations - that he wasn't trusted to do what he did best of all.

"Do anything to him and we'll kill you, very slowly," Romanov said cooly.

He looked up at her, unperturbed. "Noted."

Loki grabbed another chunk of animal fat and mixed it with charcoal in his palm. When Rhodey sent him adisgusted look, he murmured, "it's fat or spit."

"... Fine," he conceded, glaring.

He set about drawing the runes that he had memorised when he was very young, only just beginning to understand the craft. "Now, this may feel very odd," he explained firmly, slotting back into a healer's mind, which he hadn't for some time. If these healings were happening on Thor, he would not be so kind, nor probably bother with the runes, but Rhodey was scared, new to battle, and mortal. "It may feel... overwhelming to have these senses back, so if you would like me to slow down, say. However, it is generally better to get it all over and done with as soon as possible. I will also be regenerating lost muscle tissue, so you'll feel pins and needles."

He settled cross-legged to look at his work, which would make this as easy as possible. Symbols on the forehead, to protect the mind. On the neck, for the Norns, the sinewy tendons like their woven strings. On the arms, for strength. On the stomach, for guts. And on the feet, for grounding. Lastly, over the heart. For goodwill to all the universe.

"Shall we begin?"

He nodded. Loki placed a hand on Rhodey's stomach, pressing down firmly, and began to channel the energy with whispering directions. Go, heal, reconnect, divide.

Rhodey gasped when he first felt it seep into him. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the observers stand up straight in alertness, but Loki carried on, summoning greater and greater power until all he could feel was giving. He envisioned the spinal cord snapping back together as his golden magic danced and squirmed over it, each small thread gathering to a mighty rope.

Rhodey grunted and grabbed Loki's hand, spluttering incoherently. "St-"

Loki filtered the energy and he relaxed slightly. He focused for a little while more on regenerating muscle tissue; imagining swelling and creation, and tiny veins that snaked around them like roots. All too soon for Rhodey, he again drove his magic more powerfully into the spine again, going for a last push.

"Ohmygod," Rhodey said all in one gasp. "I can't-"

"Almost there," soothed Loki through gritted teeth. His stomach ached in hunger, despite having feasted only a few hours ago. "Almost there."

He gave one last large push, forcing himself through skin and flesh and blood and bones; his fingernails digging in like he was scrabbling for purchase. He sent some magic to the brain to make it remember how it used to be, then abruptly, the final thread snapped into place.

Loki withdrew from his patient entirely with a long, shaky breath. That should not have been that difficult.

He leaned backwards on his hands where he sat, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings as he panted with his eyes hooded and cast upwards - the dirt under his palm, the birds, the breeze, and the onlookers. Rhodey was sniffing and shuffling, his bare feet curling and digging into the ground.

"Holy shit," said Stark. "He actually did it."

Banner was by his side in an instant, doing check after check after check, whilst the others crowded, grinning and congratulating. Loki stood and slipped away to the beck to wash the persistent pigment and sweat off his skin. He took out the braids and combed his wet fingers through his hair. Lastly, he rolled his sleeves down.

When he turned back around, Rhodey was on his feet, laughing in that shocked, happy, nervous way that Midgardians did as they all chatted on delightedly. Thor was looking at Loki, though, with a confused expression.

Loki just couldn't catch a break, it seemed.

He picked up each pebble in his circle - no use wasting perfectly good healing stones - and put them into a cloth drawstring bag. He cast an easy spell to wipe the mud and destroy the symbols he drew. This wasn't necessary, but one book he read as a young child mentioned power being stolen by left-behind spellwork, so ever since he'd always done it regardless. Just in case.

Rhodey suddenly seemed to notice that Loki was there, and his jubilant grin faded into something more serious. "Thank you," he said, holding out his hand. "Really."

Loki took the wrist and grasped it firmly. "You're very welcome," he replied, silky-smooth.

This seemed to unsettle Rhodey enough that he motioned for everyone to begin walking back. He was wobbly on his legs like a foal, but they otherwise seemed strong enough, though no doubt would tire easily until he gained more muscle mass genuinely.

Thor held back to walk level with him.

"Yes?" Loki said, tiredly.

Thor was silent for a few moments. "You did well, brother," he said quietly whilst staring steadfastly ahead.

"Oh," Loki said in surprise, before he could stop himself. "Ah. Thank you."

"You did not over exert yourself, did you?"

Loki rolled his shoulders. "It's been a long while since I had to do anything of that sort outside of battle," he admitted. "I find it more difficult without the adrenaline, or without complete focus."

"If you needed adrenaline, I could have threatened you with a mighty battleaxe while you worked," Thor said blandly, and it took Loki a moment to realise that he was saying it in dry wit.

"I appreciate the offer," Loki countered, "but the position is already filled by Romanov's mere presence."

"Ah, she wouldn't harm you, so long as you hadn't done anything to her."

"You said that of Sif, Thor, until she pierced your gut with a sword because you so kindly informed her friend that she was not as lovely as Sif."

Thor laughed. "Those were the days. I am glad Sif was off-world at the time of Hela's attack."

"Stranded, though," Loki noted.

"Alive," Thor insisted with a sharp glance. "We may one day get her back off that wretched realm, and her contingent. If only we had the Bifrost!"

For a moment, Loki considered telling Thor that he had a way to rescue their lost men and women, stuck in another realm. But he knew if he told anybody that he had taken Tesseract from Odin's vaults, it would be taken from him and he would lose his only escape. Along with the frail alliance he had gained from the Avengers. Though he did admittedly regret having to lie to Thor, especially after a somewhat tentative ceasefire, he just couldn't risk it. He was self-serving to the end.

With the moment of weakness gone, Loki said instead, "if only, indeed."

###

"Rise and shine!" said a voice that jerked Loki awake.

He peered through sleepy eyes at Brunnhilde, who was tying up his window drapes to let more light in. "What in the name of Odin's beard are you doing?" he groaned, shielding his eyes. "It's barely dawn, you useless pig brained reprobate whore of a shield-maiden."

"Someone's not a morning person," she said, sing-song. "I want company to go into the nearby town. I brought you a water bowl. You'll want to use it while it's still warm."

She brought the wooden bowl over to his bed and shoved it into his waiting hands. He blinked up at her and sighed. "I was going to assist in the plans for Friggahof."

"What's Friggahof?"

He swung his feet over the side of the bed and walked over to the table, which was adorned with various bits; his daggers, a nail brush, a small tin, a bar of fragranced soap, and his hand wraps for sparring. Brunnhilde sat herself down on his bed as he picked up his towel and lay it over his bare shoulders.

"It is what Thor and I agreed to name the building of magic."

"About time. Is that why you've been on a disappearing act all week?"

Loki turned and grinned wolfishly at her. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you missed me."

"You might be an all-mighty seiðmenn and all, but I do wonder if you could stop me suffocating you in your sleep."

"That seems much too clean for you." He turned back to his table slicing a small piece of soap off with his dagger (he shouldn't - Odin would've had a fit if he saw him use his weapons so carelessly, but dead men tell no tales) to dissolve into the water. "May I ask why we are going into town, or is that to be a mystery as well?"

"Drinks," she said gleefully.

"Isn't it always," he sighed. "Why aren't you brewing your own?" He asked, washing his hands, then splashing water up onto his face and neck.

Brunnhilde sighed. "I would do, but I know not where to get the ingredients."

"Ask Stark."

"I would rather keep my conversations with Stark to a minimum," she said. "For fear he gets any unsavoury ideas."

Loki grinned and begun on his hair, washing it out from his scalp with water and his fine-toothed comb meticulously. "Why, my fair lady, thou art so proper and innocent, like fresh virgin snow on autumn's eve."

She laughed loudly. "Quite. Anyways, these drinks aren't all for myself."

"No? How surprising."

"I have to keep you all on your toes somehow."

"So who are they for?" Loki grinned playfully. "Or is it your lady companion?"

"No. Thor is having a party to celebrate the summer solstice and asked me to pick up supplies."

Loki stilled his hands for just a moment, the curious ghost of a moment long ago where he discovered that the Warriors Three had avoided telling him about a feast so that they didn't have to invite him. "I see."

"Will you come?"

He carried on, combining the last of the grime out of the ends. "Perhaps," he said after a while.

She grinned. "I bet you're a real lightweight."

"I'm no alcoholic," Loki admitted. He slid his towel off his shoulders and began to press the water out of his hair. "I always preferred hallucinogens, whenever we went to Alfheim, anyways."

"I've never tried any."

"They make for a curious experience," he said, "and Thor swore off them when we were young warriors because I once fed him some without his knowledge before we went into battle."

She laughed at that, and Loki grinned toothily in return. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"Oh, Thor wasn't on my bad side. He is just so delightful to play with."

He picked up the tin and unscrewed the lid; inside was a beeswax putty. He took a small amount and worked it in between his fingers, then ran it through his hair.

Brunnhilde watched him curiously. "I didn't know you used wax."

"Keeps my hair from curling too much," he said after a moment, feeling a little self conscious at the grooming routine.

"It's nice to know your hair isn't actually all that greasy."

He snorted. He had always found it annoying that he probably bathed more frequently than Thor, and yet he was the greasy one.

She grabbed a linen shirt from his dresser and threw it to him. He caught it easily and slipped it on. "Where's your day armour?"

"In the chest."

She pulled it out and looked at the complex over-layering of leather, mail, linen and buckles for a few moments. "You're gonna need help putting this on, aren't you?"

He took the leather trousers out of her hands. "I can dress myself," he said. "But if you're offering to help with my clothes..."

Brunnhilde looked at him oddly for a moment, then her face arranged itself into something like incredulity.

"You wish," she replied cooly. "I'll meet you outside in five."

"Prissy," he said after her as she left the room.

"Hussy!" she returned loudly.

"I am not a hussy!" yelled Thor from his own room.

"Not everything is about you, brother!" Loki yelled back. He looked at his armour ruefully and sighed.

Five minutes later and a few confused straps that had somehow twisted despite having been laid perfectly in the chest the day before, Loki emerged from his room to see Brunnhilde sitting on the throne.

"You'd better not let Thor catch you doing that," he warned.

She turned around to smile. "It's rude not to offer your guests a seat."

"That's a really good line," he replied.

They began down the path of Nyrlif, and then were out into the open woods. It was a clear and bright morning with dew on the grass, the sun well up into a blue sky mottled with clouds. They crossed the beck where Loki had healed Rhodey the week before. Rhodey was doing well and he had quickly relearned walking, but his legs were still skinnier in proportion to the rest of him; Loki expected it would take a few months to get back to normal.

Within half an hour, they had arrived in Sharpsburg, the nearby mortal town. With a population 900, it boasted a diner, a small shop, a library, a bed and breakfast, and a post office. On Saturdays, it hosted a small farmer's market.

Today, it seemed, was a Saturday.

Loki and Brunnhilde weaved in between the throng of Midgardians to get to the shop. They got strange looks; everyone knew they were there, but they'd not experienced any visitors, except those to the other side of the lake and a welcoming party shortly after arrival (or so Loki was told). Loki had also been told by Tony that it was seen as strange that they carried their weapons with them even into the sleepy little settlement, but no Aesir would ever go without. It pays to be prepared.

The shop too was busy, though not as much as outside. It was a very strange mix of all different kinds of foods that would not have been sold in the same place on Asgard; bread, meat, fish, confectionary, and ground grains.

Brunnhilde seemed to have a sense for the alcohol, heading to the correct stall without delay. "I presume you know what they would like for the… party." The word felt uncomfortable in his mouth, like poison that would kill him if only he were to swallow it.

"Stark said beer, and lots of. I personally want more absinthe."

"Did you not say it is difficult to acquire?"

"Sadly." She picked out a few bottles. She opened one and a woman nearby made a noise. "What?" The woman was wearing a label which was 'Hello! My name is Alison.'

"You- ma'am," she stuttered, eyes flickering back and forth between them and their visible weapons, absolutely terrified. "You shouldn't open that unless you're buying it."

"I need to know if it's worth buying." Brunnhilde shrugged, lifting the bottle.

Loki sent the shopkeeper an apologetic look. "I apologise on behalf of my… companion. We will be sure to pay for any bottles we open." Brunnhilde looked at him with distaste. "Did you not say Stark's paying for it all?"

"Good point." She handed him the red bottle. "Ugh, we need two more of that." She then immediately opened another.

The bought a few different bottles and a two large crates of beer, and Loki was glad for his strength when Brunnhilde made him carry most of it as they begun to walk back to Nyrlif. They should've brought a pack, but instead all they had was flimsy plastic bags supplied by the shopkeep.

"Do we not need any food?"

"Why send me if they wanted me to get food?"

Loki's response was cut off as he instead found himself at the wrong end of a sharp arrow. He froze, and glanced down the metal shaft to find none other than Clint Barton, who had it drawn into an impressive longbow, his packed quiver slung over his casually-clad shoulder. Loki grinned widely, chuckling. "Ah, I was wondering when another one of you would turn up. You're like maggots."

"What the hell are you doing here?" He looked down to Loki's baggage. "And why are you shopping?"

"My brother is throwing a party. I was dragged into this." He answered honestly. "And I could ask the same of you. I was under the impression you were on the wrong side of the rest of your so called team."

Barton rose an eyebrow, glancing at Brunnhilde. To Loki's annoyance, she didn't look like she was about to jump to his defence anytime soon - in fact, she was observing with amused indifference. "They haven't killed you yet?"

"No, and I think if best if you could refrain."

Barton smiled and narrowed his eyes. "Give me one good reason why not."

"Because," Loki reached for his magic incase he was wrong, "she could kill you before you can lose another arrow to kill her."

"She looks like she couldn't give a shit, Loki. I don't think anyone's leaping to your defence here."

"You're saying that like I need a defence."

"Unless you can magic out of the way of an arrow at your throat, I think you're pretty helpless."

"Or," Brunnhilde sighed, "how about you two stop having a dick measuring contest for the sake of your own dignity. And you can get your reason why not to kill him from the rest of the Ascenders. Gods knows I could use one too." Brunnhilde finished her sentence with an eyeroll and she turned to go, continuing on her way to Nyrlif.

Barton eyed Loki warily, Loki stared back as innocently as possible. Finally, Barton lowered his bow, keeping the arrow notched. He gestured for Loki to start walking with a quick jerk of his head. "You first."

"And allow you to shoot me in the back?"

"I could say the same to you."

"Do you see a gun on me?"

"I see one dagger and if I had to guess you've got at least four or five more on you."

"So? I'm hardily going to shoot you with them."

"Just walk together, you idiots." Brunnhilde shouted back. Loki took a step, eyeing Barton until the archer copied his movements, "who the Hel is this guy, anyways?"

"Clint Barton. A very helpful Avenger." Loki said, smirking. Barton glared at him, swapping his arrows around. Loki didn't dare ask what kind the new arrow was, but it had a purple band around the fletch.

"Brunnhilde," she said, turning around for a moment - just long enough to flash a grin. "But you can call me Valkyrie."

"In that case, you can call me Hawkeye."

"That's a stupid name."

"So's Valkyrie. And Brunnhilde." Clint argued, offended.

"My name means "Choosers of the Fallen." Yours is literally the eye of a bird. And not even the best bird."

"What's wrong with hawks? They're graceful, they can see rodents from 15,000 yards away-"

"Can I offer you some advice, Barton?"

"No."

"It is best to ignore her taunts," Loki continued as though Barton had not spoken.

The rest of the journey was done in silence, the only sounds that of the forest until in the distance, finally, was Nyrlif.

Despite Barton's outward confidence, Loki noticed his footsteps falter when the town came into view. Interesting.

Nobody paid them much attention as they walked through the village until they reached the main hall. Stark and Romanov stepped outside of Huginngard. Stark had the iron suit on and the helmet down. Barton stopped a few paces from them both. Loki placed his bags down, ready to defend himself if he got caught in the crossfire of a fight - or if Barton decided their reason for not killing him wasn't enough.

"Y'know, being a fugitive usually means you stay in hiding," Stark said.

Barton looked around, and shrugged. "You know where I live. Nobody's tried to come for me."

"I guess nobody thinks you're dangerous enough."

Clint rose an eyebrow, and gestured to his bow. "Wanna repeat that, pal?"

To Loki's surprise, Stark grinned widely and the suit opened up allowing him to step out of it. He approached Barton hand held out, "it's good to see you, Clint."

"And you, Tony." Clint accepted the half hug from the man.

Stark looked over to Romanov, who was still looking on impassively - though Loki thought that if he looked closely enough, he might just see a smile. "Aren't you happy to see him, Nat?"

Romanov just rose an eyebrow. "Why do you think he turned up in time for a party?"

"You traitor." There was no heat in the words and he put a hand on Clints back. "C'mon, I'll show you around. Snape and Moaning Myrtle, why don't you take those bags into the hall?"

###

Loki sat on the log, looking up towards the stars. He had tried to keep on moving enough that he didn't feel the acute pain of everything he'd vowed to disown. Somehow, Asgard being unavailable permanently was so much worse when he'd just chosen to exile himself.

The door opened and Banner walked out. He didn't even notice Loki at first, but then yelped and clutched his shirt. "Oh my God! Don't do that!"

"I am just sitting here," Loki said.

"Yeah, well, don't." Banner gave him a sidelong glance and pushed up his glasses. "What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask the same of you." Loki returned.

"I was just getting some air. Parties make me nervous," he admitted. He was a little flushed on the cheeks and ears - drunk, Loki realised.

"Probably for the best then. I don't fancy meeting the Hulk again."

"Does he make you feel like a puny God?" He giggled. Loki looked at him like he'd grown additional heads.

"Well he certainly doesn't make me feel spectacular," Loki replied dryly.

Banner sat down beside him, swaying slightly. "Don't like parties either?"

"Not ones full of people that hate me."

"Nobody in there hates you. Well, maybe Clint. But nobody else. We just, really, really, really, really, really dislike you."

"Thanks."

"No problem, buddy," crooned Banner, wrapping an arm around Loki's shoulders.

"Have you gone mad?" Loki asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No. I think Tony spiked my drink though."

"You think?"

Banner looked confused. It wasn't the first time Loki's wit had gone over someone's head, so he sighed. Banner carried on, chipper. "You should come in! Ha-ha. Or come out. Wait! I didn't- I'm not- I'm not coming onto you!"

Loki looked between him and the arm on his shoulder. "Right."

"Come iiiiin," Banned whined, thankfully removing himself from Loki's side.

"What do you care?"

He sighed and bit his lip. "I know what it's like to be outside."

Loki turned away, unsure how to arrange his face. Banner grabbed his arm, and looked as if he might fall over for a second, then was preoccupied with balancing himself.

Loki looked up at him in surprise. "You're not coming onto me again, are you?"

"Shhh," Banner said conspiratorially. "You don't wanna walk in, right? That's the worst bit. Walking in and everyone sees you and it's awful. So we'll sneak in."

"I think you're overestimating your ability to be covert, Banner."

"I think you're underestimating the Incredible Hulk. He is incredible."

"Yes," Loki said blandly. "I think Thor mentioned something about the Hulk's incredible size."

"I don't recall," said Banner. He dragged Loki to his feet - which Loki allowed, because otherwise Banner would not stand a chance to lift a Jotun, even such a weedy one as him - and then into Huginngard.

He heard loud voices and music coming from the council room.

Sure enough, their attempt at sneaking didn't go as planned when all heads turned to look at them from the table they were sat around. "Maybe if you cover your eyes and don't see them, they won't see you." Banner suggested in a loud whisper.

"Please Stark, I beg of you to never get him drunk again."

"I beg that you do." Brunnhilde asked, "he's hilarious."

"Hilariously dangerous," said Rhodey. "Who's idea was this?"

Stark shrugged. "Beats me."

The illusion was rather broken when Banner attempted to wink, but more did an oddly heavy delayed blink, and Stark winked back, far more suavely.

"The Hulk will not hurt us, even if he makes an appearance." Thor boomed, "his ego is still wounded from when I beat him in our fight!"

Banner scratched his stubble. "That still doesn't sound right."

"Thor, I was there," Loki said, pulling out the chair beside Brunnhilde. "You lost that fight. You were beaten to a pummel."

"That sounds more like it."

Thor glowered to himself and Brunnhilde gave Loki a drink.

"What is it?"

"It was wine, but I put additional whiskey in it."

Loki grimaced, his nose wrinkling as he tasted it. "This is disgusting."

"I wish I had her when I was in college."

"You wish you had me now, Stark," Brunnhilde said, rolling her eyes.

Stark grinned wolfishly. "A man can dream. The whole armour, the sword - what was it, Dragondagger-"

"Dragonfang."

"That. And the whole Xena thing you've got going. Oof! You would've been fifteen year old me's wet dream, I tell ya." He turned to the rest of the table. "Am I right or am I right?"

Everyone stared at him in various degrees of disgust. Two daggers suddenly soared past each ear, one after the other and into the wall behind him with a twang. Loki and Brunnhilde both looked away innocently, sipping their cocktails.

Stark's mouth was agape. Romanov stifled a laugh. Banner swayed, disorientated, which wasn't anything to do with the daggers.

"That was creepy," Banner said. "Like twins."

And, in the way that old friends did, the table found the comment funnier than it had any right to be. Barton suddenly stood up and stalked out of the room, his face carefully, tensely blank.

"Did I upset him?" Banner asked.

"No," Romanov said, "he's just... having a tough time."

Everyone turned to look at Loki, who tried to look defiant, but felt tired of it all. The useless guilt; the endless attempts to regain something he himself threw away.

"Oh," Banner said, twigging on. "Right."

"What?" Brunnhilde asked, looking between all of them. "What did you do?"

"Loki brainwashed him last time he was here."

Loki stared into his glass, ice in his stomach. The table was silent.

"It wasn't him. He was just useful. Could've been anyone. I didn't know-" Loki tried to finish, but found the words trapped in his throat. "I didn't know."

"That doesn't make it okay. It's not okay to brainwash someone." Romanov said, leaning forward.

"I am not a child," he snarled.

"You sure act like it. You haven't apologised for what you've done," Stark said.

Loki wanted to throw out some line - should a boot apologise to an ant? Should a dagger apologise to its victim? Instead, his throat was dry and unworkable.

"He wants you to apologise," Banner whispered.

"I know that," Loki spat.

"So apologise!"

"I can't."

Brunnhilde was looking in between them all, confused. "Why not? Just say you're sorry. You're a big boy, I'm sure you've apologised before. Own up," she said, shrugging.

Silence descended. Loki was still staring downwards, feeling like a chastised child.

Then, suddenly, gently, was Thor: "Brother. Please. For me?"

Loki laughed, but it was humourless. In fact, he felt rather like he did before he threw himself off the Bifrost. Cold. Raw. Broken. "You claim to know me so well, and yet you do not see when I am not myself."

"What?"

Romanov suddenly gave a little gasp. What a clever little spider, catching Loki in her web. "You were brainwashed, too."

Stark looked indignant. "You're not actually gonna believe him, are you, Natasha? It isn't a fucking Get Out Of Jail card."

"Is this true, Loki?" Thor asked him, his arm reached across the table, stopping short of touching Loki, like his skin might burn if they met. Brother, Thor said, as if it were true in any sense at all.

Loki looked up from his drink for the first time, first at the angry eyes of Stark, the understanding ones of Romanov - Natasha - the confused ones of Banner and Brunnhilde, and finally, Thor. There was so much hope shining in his eye, candle light glinting off the patch.

"It's true." He managed to whisper. The words seemed to echo around the silent room; perhaps that was just the ringing in his ears.

Stark threw his metal cup onto the ground in anger. "Bullshit. Fucking bullshit. He's playing us into thinking he's Pinocchio who's grown a conscience. It doesn't fucking work like that!"

"I am not saying I am a good person," Loki spat. "I attempted to kill the Jotuns and if Thor had not stopped me their planet would have been wiped from existence. I am a kinslayer, a liesmith, an argr." He glanced at Natasha. "A monster, a Jotun, and a damn fool. But I swear. I swear on my own life and on my magic that those actions - that attack - those were not my own."

Silence, again. "Why didn't you tell us?" Natasha whispered.

"Why would you believe me?"

Stark sighs. "I guess that explains why you've been avoiding Vision. He's noticed, and offended, by the way."

Loki shuddered. "That stone should not be on Midgard, never mind embedded in a sentient being."

"He was able to pick up Mjolnir. I trust him."

Loki laughed. "Oh, you fools. You trust him, but what if the Titan comes back to hunt down what he believes is his?"

"And will he?"

Loki shrugged. "I know not. He only told me what was important for me to know. No more. No less."

"Why did he do it?" Natasha asked. "And how?"

Loki shuffled uneasily. "I… Has Thor told you of the events in New Mexico? And what occurred afterwards?"

"Little bits. I only really know what was in the file for the event. Thor just said he thought you were dead."

"I wish I had been, for all that followed," he muttered earnestly. "I was set adrift in ginnungagap - the Void, endless and eternal. Complete silence, with only your heart in your ears. Darkness, except for faraway stars. Nothing, except the cold and nothing of space. I am Jotun; I can survive the cold. But can anyone survive their own mind?"

"Asgard did that to you?" Banner asked, horrified and sobering up fast.

"No," Loki said, feeling a flush creep upwards again. "I did it to myself. I didn't think I would survive."

"A suicide mission," Natasha murmured.

"Yes. On Asgard, to take one's own life… Even if you fail, you are still a dead man walking. I would therefore succeed in my objective either way."

Was he a dead man walking? Loki didn't know. It wasn't so much that he was a dead man, but that a man had died, and he had emerged from the corpse, like when Odin slew Ymir so that life could be born anew. To be and to become something else was not so much a line to be crossed, but a thread woven into a greater tapestry.

Brunnhilde downed her drink. "This is so fucking weird."