But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!
- To a Mouse, Robert Burns
Loki knew coming back to Midgard would be a bad idea, though he didn't expect his misfortunes to manifest in such a manner.
But the nine realms thought him dead, and he was intrigued as to what his brother- it felt strange to call him that- was doing there. So he cast a shade to play the role of Odin in his place, and took a route only he knew to reach what some called Earth and others called Terra. Personally, he liked to call it a nuisance.
He knew turning up at the residence of the Avengers would be suicide, but Thor had mentioned other places to what he thought was his father. First, he went to a university in England which was a building so beautiful Loki could not believe it had been crafted by Midgardian hands, a place he had been sorry to leave for the cold steel stalagmites of New York. There, he visited a stuffy, overheated place which sold bitter human drinks, which the arrogant man with the voluminous armour had apparently brought Thor to on many occasions. Here, the uncouth serving girl was rude enough to drive him out of the shop, with only an assurance that if Thor was in trouble, she would know. Loki doubted this.
The trip was proving fruitless, and Loki cast a glamour over himself as he walked through back-alleys with the hood of his mundane clothes pulled up. He had to admit, they were slightly more comfortable than his usual leather robes, but visually they were nowhere near as impressi-
"Sorry," muttered somebody as they brushed against him, and walked on without even looking up. Loki resisted the urge to strike them, knowing it would only gain him unwarranted attention, then realised that the pocket of his jacket in which he kept a wallet full of Midgardian money had become significantly lighter.
A mortal had pickpocketed him?
"Excuse me," he said loudly, turning on his heel towards the shadowy figure, "I believe you have something of mine."
They broke into a run and Loki gave chase, actually revelling in the adrenaline it gave him- being king was wonderful, but by the love of Yggdrasil, it could be boring sometimes. He rounded a corner after the thief and caught them up in time to slam them into a wall. A hand flew towards his face and Loki, expecting a punch, deflected it with his arm- but fingernails raked across his sleeve and the person hissed in pain. A woman, then, since men never clawed. A desperate woman too, and a quick one. She also didn't smell particularly pleasant, but that was hardly relevant.
In the half a second he stopped to dwell on this, she had pulled out a knife and he only just twisted away in time to avoid being stabbed between the ribs. The attempt made him laugh a little, and he began to make more of an effort.
He forced the armed hand up against the wall and pressed into it until her fingers opened and the blade fell to the floor, but while he was distracted by this the toe of her boot connected with his shin and her free hand jabbed at his neck, the two painful strikes sending him staggering back. She managed to get two steps away before he slammed her face-first into the wall and stuck his hand in the pocket of her own garment- only to draw it out again with a yelp as something bit into it.
The woman sniggered as Loki jumped back. "That'll be Algernon," she told him in a rough accent, pulling a small white mouse out of her pocket. "Good boy."
"That's repulsive," said Loki, and the woman shrugged.
"Worked though, dinnit? Although people don't normally figure out I've tapped 'em until they get home."
"I don't normally get... Tapped," Loki replied shortly. "Could I have my money back?"
"Say please," she said, still cooing over the rodent.
Loki pursed his lips. His pride was telling him not to, but magical money took a lot of effort to make. "Please."
"No," she said, and sniggered again.
He was about to give up and walk away, but the sixth sense he had inherited from his mother told him to stay, that anyone capable of pickpocketing him might be useful. "What is your name, girl?"
Both she and the mouse gave him a beady look. "What shall we call me today, Algernon? I don't think I've ever been a Val before. Makes me think of verrucas, but we used up all the nice names ages ago. Still, Val's a bit ugh."
She's talking to a rat, thought Loki, and for some reason I'm expecting a civilised response.
Meanwhile, the woman appeared to have reached a decision. "Today," she said, "I'm gonna be Marylou."
"Whatever makes you happy," Loki said drily.
"Why're you hanging around then, posh boy? Want your wallet back?"
Loki had had enough of this. He was cold, he was annoyed, his attempt to check on Thor was getting nowhere and- then it occurred to him, just as something occurred to Marylou.
"You wanna pay me to do summat?" she asked him, slipping the mouse back into her pocket.
"Such as?" Loki asked, thinking it would be a good idea to make her think that she suggested the idea.
"Anything that might be a little too illegal for someone of your poshness," she said brusquely, all business now it was clear he wasn't going to accost her again. "I don't do sex, though. I know some girls who will, and guys if that's your thing, but I draw the line there."
"Maybe another time," said Loki, who as Odin had not been able to see his favourite handmaiden in far too long. "How would you be interested in a little covert surveillance?"
"You mean tag 'em?"
"I assume so."
"That's basically my speciality, but… Who?" she asked warily, "if it's your ex, then no way. That's creepy."
"You talk to a rat," Loki said testily, "I hardly think you are in a position to decide what is 'creepy'."
"Bitch, Algernon's a mouse. And if you don't want me to help…" she tailed off, and went to move away- while still holding onto his money, Loki remembered.
"Thor," he told her, "I want you to tell me what Thor is doing."
She stiffened. "As in, Avenger Thor? God of thunder Thor?"
"Is there any other?"
"I dunno, man, people give their kids weird names. How much will you pay me?"
"How much would you like?" Loki asked, and Marylou smiled widely. The tooth behind her left upper canine was missing, but apart from that they were surprisingly clean for such a dirty person. "I assume you are currently lacking a home."
"What gave it away?" she asked, still grinning.
"If anything, I would say the smell. While you work for me, Marylou, you will have a roof over your head and whatever else you need shall be supplied, whatever it may be. When I am… satisfied with your services, I will pay you whatever you think they are worth."
Once, Loki would have forced someone to do this, blackmailed or hypnotised them perhaps. But the woman- more of a girl really, though every mortal was a girl to him- seemed willing enough anyway, and what was a little Midgardian expenditure to him, a king?
"Sounds like a deal t'me," she said, "so long as I keep your wallet."
"Why?" Loki asked. It seemed so small a thing compared to what he was offering her.
"Because I earned it. Maybe not fair and square, but I did."
That skewed, albeit slightly admirable, logic actually made Loki smile. "Fine," he said, "come with me."
"Where to?" Marylou asked, following him out of the alley.
"Your new lodgings."
%
The look on Marylou's face, and the expression of the valet when he spotted her shedding street dust onto the carpet, almost made the amount of effort Loki was putting into this worth it. In the multifaceted, opulent light of the hotel lobby, he could see how disgusting the girl really was. Her boots and bag were held together with brown string and her frayed clothes were stained colourless with the dirt of the streets, as was her skin and short, greasy hair. The fact that Algernon the mouse was riding on her shoulder completed the picture, and Loki suspected the only reason she was let in at all was because she was with the hotel's generous new guest.
He took the wallet from her pocket while it was unguarded, silenced her small noise of protest with a glare and pressed a note into the valet's hand as they passed. "Dinner for two I think, James," he informed the servant, feeling a sense of smug satisfaction as he returned the wallet to his pocket.
"Yessir. Brought up to your room, sir?" James asked, staring directly ahead of him as all good servants should. By contrast, Marylou was gawping at them both.
"As always. Close your mouth," he added to the woman as he reluctantly pressed a hand into her back and guided her towards the stairs; Loki didn't trust the metal boxes Midgardians used to carry themselves between floors, at least not until they reached a level of development almost equal to Asgard's own. "You look like a-"
"Don't finish that sentence, posh boy, or I will stab you," she warned him.
Loki laughed shortly. "Oh, I would like to see you try. And the first thing you're going to do when we reach my rooms is bathe."
She moaned softly. "I can't remember the last time I had a bath."
"I would never have guessed that," Loki muttered, and then slightly louder he said, "and for the love of hygiene, burn those rags."
"I'll need scrappy clothes if you want me to tag Thor," she replied, "but I got kind of nicer ones in my bag, I guess I'll use those."
He felt her eyes, dark and sharp like her rodent's, on the back of his neck all the way up to his rooms, and used the excuse of holding the door open for her to move out of her eyeline. Instead, he watched her as she strolled into the room and whistled appreciatively, air hissing around the gap in her teeth.
"Fancy digs," she observed without looking at him, and Loki noticed how she took a little golden ornament from a side table and slipped it into her pocket. Old habits, he guessed. "Pretty fitting for a prince of Asgard."
He stiffened, and slammed the door shut behind him. His glamour was still up, so- "how did you know?" he demanded, striding towards her.
She took two steps back and hopped over a low-backed sofa. "Who else would you be? Posh, accent, wants to tail Thor and acts like a dick. I'm not thick, but if it's any consolation I doubt most people could put two and two together."
Now that it was futile, Loki let the illusion of his appearance melt away, as well as transforming the Midgard clothes into a green shift and leather tunic. "Good. Go and clean yourself, Marylou."
"You killed people," she said, "lots of people. You drilled that man's eye out, I saw it on the news."
Loki winced at the memory, which- like all of that week- was tinged with Tesseract blue and screaming flames that wrapped around his mind. "I wasn't myself," he said, fully aware of how futile it sounded. "And… and it was for the greater good. You needed order, and I was to be the one to bring it to you."
She lifted one shoulder. "Avoiding that last part, I've stabbed a few marks in my time, so I'm hardly one to judge. But you promise not to kill me?"
"Why would I?" Loki asked, a little testily. "What would I have to gain from murdering someone as unimportant as you?"
"Cheers," she muttered, dropping her bag on the floor. "Me 'n Algernon are going for a bath."
"I hope you have a wonderful time," Loki said sarcastically, and she stuck her middle finger up at him as she walked away. "The bathroom is through the other door."
"I knew that," she said quickly, veering off in the opposite direction.
Once he heard the sound of running water, Loki knelt down and untied the string holding her bag shut. There was indeed a change of clothes in there, although they were in an even worse state than what she was wearing. Face contorted in disgust, he pulled them aside and investigated the rest of the contents.
There was an old liquor bottle which she had half-filled with water, and a can of preserved food in a bag along with a few packets of mouse pellets. There was also a couple of scrunched-up, faded leaflets for various women's refuges, a battered paperback of a book he didn't recognise (not that he expected to), a box containing several small, twisted pieces of metal, a few plastic bags and a newspaper cutting about a museum opening somewhere in the city, which he guessed she noted as somewhere warm and dry to stay a few hours.
Whether or not she needed them to spy on his brother, Marylou would not be allowed to stay at a hotel in garments such as these. A maid had left slim paper volumes filled with glossy pictures on the table; he flicked through these until he found relatively acceptable garb and concentrated, and a few seconds later they shimmered into reality, folded neatly on the table.
Loki sat back and thought about the girl in his bath, about how her mouse was cleaner than she was and had more food in that bag, too. She didn't seem a trustworthy type, and he was actually considering taking Algernon hostage before he realised how foolish that sounded. No, he thought, payment and bribery is enough to ensure her good service. Perhaps he could have hired a professional to do a better job, but then someone might have noticed. No, it was better to have a nobody working for him, so long as she could complete the task.
Loki, ever the impatient one as his mother used to say, waited a full ten minutes before flinging the door of the bathroom open and demanding Marylou hurry up. As he entered, she yelped and drew the waterproof curtain around the bath, then peered round the edge. Algernon was sat in the soap dish, washing itself with a tiny pink tongue.
"I need to talk to you," he said, "about what you plan to do."
"Bugger off and gimme a minute, then," she ordered him, making a shoo motion with a bubble covered hand. He waited outside the door and within thirty seconds she emerged, one hand holding a fluffy towel around her and the other carrying Algernon.
Now she was clean, he could see that her skin was pale and slightly burnt across the bridge of her nose. Her hair might have been bright red at one point, but it had since faded to a sort of peach colour and two inches of dark roots were showing. She was skinny, he could see all her bones, short enough for her to be hard to notice and had a not exactly pretty, but pointed and clever-looking face. With one eye still on him, she gently put the mouse down on a table and fished the box of metal pieces out of the mess he had made of her bag.
"What do you want me to find out, posh boy?" she asked, and he winced as she threaded one of the metal rings through her septum.
"What my brother is looking for on Earth," he said, watching as she stabbed another piercing through her bottom lip and began to put the rest in her ears. "He thinks petty Midgardian problems would bore his father." I don't doubt they will bore me, too, but I must know anyway.
"I can dig that out," she told him, and flinched as there was a knock on the door.
"Come in, James," said Loki, reassuming his glamour as the valet entered with a silver platter holding two cloches. He deposited them on the dining table and bowed his head respectfully as he backed out of the room. "Help yourself."
She hesitated, then bolted across the room and knocked the lids of the dishes, ignoring the cutlery as she grabbed the food closest to her and started stuffing it into her mouth as if she had never seen it before. Loki watched her with a mixture of distaste and mild amusement, both of which increased as, halfway through eating, she fetched her rodent and brought him to the table, too.
"My experience of Midgardians is fortunately somewhat limited," he said aloud, "but I don't believe I've ever met one quite as uncivilised as you before."
"One of my many virtues," she said, through a mouthful of bread.
"Quite."
"Y'know?" she said to him, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied sigh, "I think I'm going off Marylou. What d'you think of Gwen?"
"I hardly-"
"I was talking to the mouse, posh boy," she cut him off, stroking the rat behind the ears.
How dare she? was Loki's first thought, quickly followed by I've just been cut off in favour of a rodent. But while half his mind was screaming at him to punish her for her insolence, the rest knew she was too valuable to kill- and besides, it had been a long time since anyone had spoken to him like that, and he almost enjoyed the change. He expected that the novelty would wear off soon, though.
"Speak to me like that again and you shall have a lot more to worry about than your name," he said, and walked towards her. He grabbed her by the wrist and she yelled in indignation, but the expression on his face silenced her. "You want your payment, girl, you do as I say."
"Except I don't," she said without a trace of nervousness, "do I? You're paying me to do what you can't do, so what makes you think you know more about tailing a guy than I do?" They glared at each other. "Let go of my arm, Loki."
It was the shock of her using his name that surprised him enough to do it. It had been such a long time since anyone had called him that… he mentally shook himself. Loss of his identity was a small price to pay for ruling Asgard, for doing a far better job, he thought, than his father had ever done.
"I shall return at dusk tomorrow evening," he informed her, "I expect you to have made some progress by then, Marylou."
"It's Gwen now, remember? And where are you going?"
"Home," he said, and disappeared from her view.
He materialised in a cave in the seaward cliffs of Asgard festooned with violet crystals identical to the one he had in his hand. He dropped the faded gem, assumed a glamour of a palace guard for until he reached his throne room, and gave thanks for the route between worlds that allowed him to return home immediately regardless of where he was on Midgard.
Nobody noticed the smooth transition between the shade of Odin and Loki taking its place; the illusion was designed in order to deflect all major decisions until he returned and could make them for himself. It was not until he had resolved all these matters, and was sat on his throne with a self-satisfied smirk, that he realised that the pocket of his robes was lighter than it should be.
Marylou- Gwen- whatever her name was- had stolen his wallet again.
A/N so I wanted another fic to bring the Civilian Chronicles (aka this, Finding Bucky and the surprisingly popular Coffee Run) up to three, and lo, in the space of a week this went from nothing but a title to 25,000 words and counting. Chapters will alternate POV between Loki and Gwen, and will probably average about 1500 words each. I hope you enjoy it, and please leave a review!