So this is my first Avengers fic, It's also the first fic I've written out a full plot list for, and my first male/male pairing. I've never written a lemon of any kind (for many reasons) so please bare with me here because there will be smut eventually but this story is not going to move fast in the romance just yet. There definitely won't even be any hints of pairings until Act II. This is a HUGE undertaking for me, so hopefully it works out.
Liar, Liar, Act I of the Sirens Song series written by Paranoia.
Beta'd by : Mazelle Morelle
Disclaimer: All cannon characters belong to Marvel.
Wire, Wire
Thor and Loki arrived back into Asgard with a jolt, both unaccustomed to the particular ways of the Tesseract. Loki grimaced as the cube's power washed over him, as it caressed him with his failure. Now here he stood once more on the broken edge of the rainbow bridge in disgrace.
Would the wretched colors of this damaged bridge not see enough of his failures? How pathetic that not only should it bare witness to his fall, but to his disgraced return, too.
Loki grimaced in a way that even Thor noticed, though he did not comment, and probably truly had no idea of this place's meaning to him. With an angry huff Loki was dragged by Thor into the city and brought before Odin.
Odin's great booming voice filled the halls, echoing all around Loki, encompassing him in that loathed, traitorous voice. He stared at the All-Father, malice and contempt burning in his eyes like a wildfire across thousands of acres. Odin's eyes fell on him, and while most would not notice, his voice stuttered just slightly, unnerved by the pure hatred in Loki's eyes. Loki had noticed though. And he relished it. When Odin was done proclaiming his crimes- and the list was long- the All-Father stood silently, now meeting Loki's eyes with... what? Contempt? Pity? Loki needed none of those foolish emotions from that man. He tore his eyes away, awaiting a death sentence, or some cruel torture that Odin was ever so fond of. Perhaps a world of his own, like Fenrir... if he was lucky.
Odin sighed, his heavy breath reverberating through the hall, heard by all even over their own gossip and glee. The air was entirely too jovial for a sentencing, and Odin wondered how he could raise sons so different from each other. He wondered how he could have done right by both of his sons. However, he could not allow his sentimentality to sway him here, he was a king first and a father second. Even though he knew he'd had a hand in Loki's doing, it was Loki who was responsible for his actions, and Loki who would face punishment. He could not go light on Loki, lest there be dissent among the Aesir- but he knew that he would have to pick his punishment carefully.
Abandonment would not teach Loki as it had Thor, and nor would pain. Entrapment in some place might hold Loki for a while, but his son was crafty and would soon enough return to Asgard with vengeance in his heart and less sanity than he'd been sent away with. Odin in all of his knowledge did not know how to progress. As he neared the end of Loki's transgressions, he grew silent, unsure what punishment to lay upon his wayward son.
When Loki broke eye contact he still had no answer, and sighed again, informing the hall that he would have to deliberate on Loki's punishment and that- for now- Loki would reside in a jail cell. Odin turned with heavy feet and an even heavier heart to return to his chambers, missing the pointed and confused look his misguided son gave him. Perhaps, thought Odin most wearily, Frigga could shed some light upon his dilemma. She had always understood Loki in a way he could not fathom.
It had been two weeks since the hearing and Odin had yet to decree Loki's punishment. Thor had visited Loki many times a day at first, but had been met only with venom and malice; by the fourth sunrise, Thor had less frequently trampled into the silent and angry cell that held Loki. He stopped bringing the prisoner every meal, and instead left more and more of them to be brought by the guards. By the eighth day Thor had stopped visiting but once a day. Loki was content with that; he knew his faux sibling's concerns were merely remnants of affections he'd held for the long gone brother he had never truly had. Thick as his skull was Thor would eventually understand the lie in his love, and he wanted no false love from Thor.
On the fourteenth day Loki's meal was brought by a new guard, a tall, lanky man whose eyes shifted constantly behind long, Aesir-blond bangs. His thin lips were quirked in the barest of smirks, and the guards' clothes fit him ill. Instantly, Loki was suspicious and on guard. He could see the green smoky tendrils of lies wrapped tightly around the man, writhing and churning with more frenzied movements as he drew closer. Loki mentally reached out towards those tendrils, trying to discover their root and...
Damn these infernal chains!
Though Loki could faintly see the lies, the effect of the chains dampened his ability to read those lies as he normally would be able to do with second-nature ease. Without his natural magic and ability to read this man, Loki was extremely wary of him. He set down Loki's plate with cat-like grace and looked on expectantly. He did not turn and leave as others had done, but watched Loki's movements like a hawk, his blatant observation not even thinly veiled. It seemed Loki would not be eating lunch today. He would take no food from someone with such poorly hidden ill will.
So Loki turned up his nose and leaned back against the stone walls of his cell, turning his attention boredly to a small corner inhabited by a spider he'd idly decided to name Ilsla. The man scoffed at him and kicked the plate.
"Too ill with the thought of your father's punishment to eat, Loki?"
Loki shot him a glare that could freeze flames in their dance, but the man simply smiled and turned to saunter out. Just before turning out of sight, he shot a sly smile at the God of Lies and murmured, just loud enough to be heard, a final parting shot that set Loki's teeth on pins.
"Well, with any luck you might not have to worry too much about that after all."
Loki bent to sniff his food and while it did not smell off, it also did not smell exactly right. No, Loki could not trust the food that wretch had brought him. While any would be a fool to so garishly make an attempt on his life, he had long ago learned that even gods could be astoundingly foolish. With his natural ability to decipher the lies around him so dulled by his confinement Loki could not take any chances.
How annoying.
Hardly twenty minutes later Thor came blundering down the hallways, tearing the calm and quiet of the incarcerated to shreds with his loud... well, everything really. Thor did nothing quietly.
Loki settled himself in for another inane and one-sided conversation, fully intending to continue his habit of ignoring Thor's babbling despite the recent developments. Loki had no desire to deal with his not-brother's harping on about whether he was 'okay' and 'did he need something?' It only served to incense him. Loki would much rather take his chances with simply not eating until Odin passed his judgment than speak with his not-brother.
Sure enough Thor entered his cell, clanging the door open and shut with such force the bars hummed their protests and Loki could hear the echo in halls he could not even see. Thor's happy face turned Loki's already sour mood even more so, and there was no lie in the bored, annoyed look he gave his brother.
"Are you unwell, brother? You have not touched your food!"
Loki snorted in disdain at his "sibling".
Who in the world asked such a foolish question when he was left here to rot and suffer, until Odin could decide whether to kill his so-called "son" or devise some intricate and terrible form of torture that would likely last at least a few centuries?
How was it Thor imagined those few imbecilic words would at last inspire him to talk to him, let alone regard him with anything less than his previous hostile glares? One could have hoped that perhaps through all of the centuries they had spent together he might have at least picked up on even a grain of Loki's intelligence. It seemed, however, intelligence was not a trait that ran strong in Aesir blood.
Thor bent to pick up the plate and offered it to Loki; when he was obviously not going to take it, the god of thunder moved to stuff a glistening roll into his own oversized mouth. At this Loki's hand shot forward, halting the bread's descent into the great oaf's mouth. Thor gazed at him questioningly, waiting for Loki to explain his actions.
"While it would certainly save me the trouble of killing you off myself, I imagine that despite an overwhelming amount of contrary evidence, I would still be convicted of your assassination. I highly doubt that whoever intended to poison me would wish for you to fall, Odinson."
Loki glared at Ilsla, pretending that it was her fault. Thor could never resist taking or destroying that which was his not his own- even prison food. Ilsla was to blame for his weakness in not being able to let Thor eat the damn thing, to be rid of him already. It was her fault he had been forced to tell Thor at all. To talk to him even. Other than heated glares that burned hotter than thermite, Loki had not said a word to Thor since he had first removed his muzzle down in this cage.
Loki briefly entertained squishing Ilsla once Thor left as retribution for her imagined slights.
"Who has done this, brother?"
Ah, the ideal opening for his perfected, 'go fuck yourself and die slowly and agonizingly in the deepest reaches of your own personal hell hole you mewling quim' glare.
Thor's expression of righteous anger melted away into a dejected sadness when he realized that would be the extent of today's visit. His brother still hated him, and soon Odin would pass some judgement that might take him from him forever. His brother would hate him until the end of time if he could not find some way back into his heart.
Thor looked like a kicked puppy, which ill suited his heroic-standard frame. With a great booming sigh, and his shoulders slouching into an appalling posture, he rose as though he were Atlas and slunk to the door, casting sad eyes back to his brother.
"I will bring you your meals from now on. I would not have you harmed."
Loki gave him no reply.
Thor left and he thought that perhaps his heart was even heavier now than it had been when Loki had first fallen into the void.
The wheels in Thor's head began to turn as he ascended the stairs from the dungeons into a remote area of the palace.
Who was trying to kill his brother? What would they try next? How long until they would succeed? When would his father make his decision?
Thor was hoping that Odin would be merciful and exile Loki in much the same way as he was. He was sure that, given the right push in Midgard, Loki could return to his old self- or at least return from the madness imparted from his fall.
With someone trying to make Odin's decision for him, surely even he would see the urgency in laying down an actual sentence for Loki, and Thor would be there pushing for his father to be merciful, insisting that his brother was still in there: that he was not defined by children's horror stories and the cruelty of the ultimate family betrayal. Loki was still there, behind all of the pain and anger. He had to be.
Loki could return to him, he had to- because Thor needed Loki. He needed his brother and greatest friend back.
Loki used to say that Odin gave Thor everything, that Odin would not or could not say no to him, and now he was going to count on that. He would convince the All-Father to banish Loki to Midgard and strip him of his powers until he learned to understand those whom he once bid kneel, to forgive, to love again. And Thor would be right beside his tumultuous brother, watching over him, guiding him, and repairing the bond between him. Really, Thor thought, it was ideal.
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It had taken Thor the rest of the day to plead his case to his parents and to convince Odin of the merits of his plan. In some dark place in his mind Thor knew that if it were Loki pleading for another the request would have been denied. However, he pushed that thought to the side as he once again approached his brother's cell.
Thor prepared to open the door and greet his brother when he realized he had fallen asleep, head tilted towards the same corner he had so intently been staring at the day before. His face was not necessarily calm in his sleep, but it lacked the angry lines he adopted particularly for Thor, and one could see his normally rigid posture had fallen more relaxed.
Thor took a moment to appreciate this rare moment, knowing his brother must have been pushed to the brink of exhaustion to fall asleep in a place like this and not yet wake to Thor's admittedly thunderous steps. Thor frowned as he wondered if his brother had slept at all these past two weeks, and his brow furrowed further at the conclusion that he likely had not.
He felt guilty to wake his brother, but this was not a simple visit. He had to wake Loki, so that they might begin the journey to Midgard.
If Loki knew that Thor had caught him asleep, he would be in a particularly rancid mood for what could be days- so, as quietly as he could, Thor slunk behind the corner before making a particularly loud and boisterous return, his familiar exclamation of "Brother!" just loud enough to shake the walls.
Loki jolted awake, his muscles betraying his sleepy mind and jumping a split second before he reigned in his surprise and lazily opened a very annoyed eye at Thor.
"They should have put that muzzle on you. Asgard would be a far more pleasant place without your overbearing voice tainting its golden halls."
Perhaps Loki was going to be in an unusually sour mood without knowing Thor had seen him sleeping. Thor appeared to be put out for a second before giving his Loki his goofy trademark grin.
"Marvelous news, brother. Odin has decided your punishment! I am to take you to the great hall at once!"
With a much put-upon sigh Loki rose, stretching out the kinks he grumpily decided gods should not get. He paused before stepping through the door (now held open by Thor) to give one last look to Ilsla, unable to decide if he wanted to wish her a miserable life or a good one. He settled for blowing her down from her web and gracefully swept into the dungeon halls.
The hall once more reverberated with the sound of Odin's voice, again recanting the God of Lie's various crimes as Loki vaguely entertained the notion of his life fulfilled in Laufey's courts instead of these golden halls. A life of misery, surely, for monsters are naught but that, but at least a life lived where his existence itself was not some malodorous lie. He dreamt of killing Odin in a battle, righteous and clever, and lauded by the monsters that shared his blood. He might have killed Odin Allfather and laid waste to such shining halls of Asgard that they may collect dust and pain the way the wasted courts of Laufey's had. Loki might have been a fit king in the court of demons and treachery, but certainly never in the halls here which shone too bright with self-importance and goodliness. No, Odin had lied. Both of his sons were not truly fit to be kings, no one could be a king over nothing but rubble.
It was lost in these dark, unhappy musings that Loki nearly missed his sentence- partially because he was already resigned to the worst of because the thought of crushing these walls was far more entertaining than kneeling in them. Thoughts of death and destruction were a balm as he waited to be condemned as much for his failures as for the failures of his 'father' and the other Aesir.
However, he did manage to catch Odin declaring that he was to be banished to Midgard, stripped of his powers, and chaperoned by his brother.
Loki rethought his resignation to the worst of fates. He had not accounted for something so wretched as this, and was nearly numb with the angry shock of being forced into his wretched not-brother's care in the realm of filthy humans likely still reeling and groveling from his attacks. Surely they would just incarcerate him once more.
What a useless punishment. Was the All-Father really so daft?
An ugly murmur of dissent snaked its way through the crowd and Loki saw his would-be assassin glower at the king and his sons. When the man's caustic eyes fell upon Loki he could not help but return it with a winning smirk. The man's face turned positively murderous as he stormed out of the room.
While Loki was not pleased with his sentencing, he supposed he could take some satisfaction in the man's reactions and the feelings of anger among his other enemies. He thought about rising and giving a suave thank-you speech to the All-Father to rub it in, but his amusement only ran so deep. He would not lay his words upon Odin lest they be before the final blow.
Instead he rose from the ground with an overly excited Thor to follow Odin into more private chambers, where his powers would be rend from him and he and Thor would be tossed into Midgard.
Thor seemed to almost have a spring in his step and the realization of why made loki pause for a moment and attempt to burn a hole through Thor with his glare alone.
He was the one who had convinced the All-Father of this punishment, of that Loki was painfully aware. Did he want to nurture his poor brother back from the brink? Teach him humanity and forgiveness and a whole slew of pathetic and worthless mortal tripe? Was he using this as a way to absolve himself of his guilt? Or using it as an excuse to see that beloved and vile human?
How utterly disgusting. Once again Thor was using and abusing is oh-so-beloved brother.
Loki was desperately wishing the All-Father would have a change of mind and kill him out of either contempt or mercy. Either would have been more preferable than this wretched sentence.
Instead Loki kneeled before Odin while the Allfather murmured useless platitudes about love and brothers and redemption that Loki tuned out. Instead he began wishing he had squashed Ilsla to save her from this wretched, vile, putrid world.
His musings were cut short however when he felt Odin's hand upon his face.
Loki began to feel light headed as his magic was drawn from him in a sickening array of colors. Even with his powers so severely dampened by the chains he had not realized how much of them he still used to see the world with the clarity he was quickly losing. The golden and gleaming walls of Asgard dulled, the wonder looking as though a portion of it had been filed away alongside his powers. Was this how humans saw? This paltry range of colors and magnificence? He felt the world sway and convulse as more of his senses churned and flittered out of existence. He had never before been so keenly aware of how much his magic was a part of him.
Loki felt as though he was a real, multi-dimensional being flattened into two-dimensions. The world became a farce of what it had once been. He felt absolutely nauseated and suddenly misplaced within his own flesh. A sudden rush of vertigo hit him and all at once he could not tell if he were standing or sitting or laying or floating. The world made no sense and he felt as though his consciousness was slipping from him-
Odin stopped suddenly, and quietly told Loki that the only powers he would allow him to keep were those of a healing nature. Loki barely heard it, his head swimming not only in its reeling to right itself among the world, but by the sudden break in the feeling of his very essence being dragged from him. Even through this turmoil Loki logged this information away sourly. Healing was not his forte.
Loki felt as though his very soul had been siphoned out of him- and when Odin stepped back, ceasing to hold his son up, Loki's world imploded upon itself and he felt himself sway forward and collapse upon the cool tiles. As he faded from consciousness, the god of mischief was vaguely aware that he felt Thor gathering him into his arms, and that his faux family had exchanged what might have been heated words. He could not be sure of it, however: the world was doing funny things, his mind was doing funny things and at some point he discovered he was battling Chitauri that had gorgon heads and Aesir blue eyes with a tree branch because he no longer had magic. Somehow he could feel the impending nightmare sitting on the precipice of the dream, eagerly waiting to tip over and drown his brain in the horrors of the void he had tried to forget since the moment he realized he had survived the fall.
Soul On Fire
When Loki came to he felt uncomfortably warm, both from the person holding him and from within, as though he were ill with fever. He made to be annoyed by both of these facts but found himself too tired and too drained to truly care.
As he became more lucid he noticed his brother's familiar gait and the feeling of being in Midgard. Steely grey walls passed them by as Loki stared on, unable to do or process much more than that. His head felt as though somebody had lined it with wool or cotton, his body as though a thousand tiny pins were being repeatedly pricked into his skin. It was tortuous.
His brother's voice helped to clear some of the fuzzy bits in his brain, enough to realize he was once again in the halls of SHIELD; but this time he was powerless, hardly better than a mere mortal, and in the poor graces of creatures who lived only in a blink in the eyes of his kind.
Bleakly he wondered if had endured all of this only to be incarcerated here, or perhaps they would make an example of him, as authority so loved to do, and string him up like the freak everyone seemed to think he was. Somewhere between these humiliating thoughts he felt the clawed hands of an ill and restless sleep overtake him again. He dreamed of being bound and paraded for the Midgardians to ogle in the same square he had bade them to kneel.
Fire, Fire
It was the uncomfortable stiffness in his arms and the thunderous booming of Thor's voice that roused him from nightmares he thankfully could not quite recall, though the feelings of fear and desolation stuck to his skin like thousands of leeches.
With great effort he pried his eyes open under the too-bright, man-made fluorescent lights. Once his eyes took their merry time adjusting he could see a large meeting room, filled with his least favourite people of this realm: that ragtag team of piss-poor heroes who had defeated and condemned him to this fate.
Of course Thor would bring him here. All the more humiliation for Loki, all the better- right?
He made to move but soon realized that he was bound to the chair in which he sat, which he supposed explained his stiff and sore joints after all. The cotton still clung to the walls of his skull but was not so thick nor all-encompassing as it had been before. However, his fever still slicked his brow with sweat.
Loki became aware of the fact that the room had gone silent with his noticeable awakening and he schooled his features to stare impassively at the assortment of humans. Even without his powers Loki could easily read the eyes of these mortals. They were judging and condemning him, even after he'd been handed this wretched punishment from the All-Father.
Thor looked at him, worry and anger etched into his features as though Loki looked as wretched and ill as he felt. Perhaps he did. Though moments earlier Loki had felt as though he could not sleep more, now his eyes began to unfocus again, and fresh sweat broke out on his brow. He let his head loll to the side and his eyes close though the bloodied claws of sleep did not grasp at him this time. Without the energy to do much more, Loki simply stayed like that to listen in on the conversation.
Thor carried his brother through the winding and impersonal halls of SHIELD. While he realized there was some inherent danger in bringing Loki right into the lion's den he also knew that SHIELD would find out about his brother's return sooner or later, and it would be easier and better for all involved if they could simply be persuaded to give his brother some amount of grace now.
He had no doubts that convincing Fury to let his brother roam free would be a task suited better to someone whose talents lay in speaking and not brute force like he, but his brother had been made terribly ill by his loss of magic and there was no other to champion him here.
Finally, he found his way into the meeting room Fury had instructed him to meet in, and was promptly greeted by the wary eyes of his fellow teammates and SHIELD staff. Fury motioned for Thor to put Loki in a chair that was... terrifying to put it mildly. A mass of black leather straps and metal odds and ends. He vaguely had some mental reference to an... electrocution chair? He couldn't be sure of what other Midgardian thing reminded him of the device in front of him but the connection was not positive.
He hesitated but ultimately complied, knowing he could not let his pride get in the way of his pleading his brother's case. He set Loki down, and no sooner than he did, Agent Hill and Agent Coulson strapped Loki into the chair. Thor frowned but stepped away to face what was sure to be a difficult audience. He was not sure where to start his pleading other than to simply lay the tale out as flatly as possible, but luckily Tony was unable to keep his mouth shut any longer.
"What the hell's wrong with Reindeer Games?"
Looking ragged (and easily identifiable as hungover) Tony was comfortably reclined in his chair, feet propped upon the now-smudged and dark-tinted glass of the conference table. Fury shot him a disapproving glare, but knew no amount of chastising would deter Tony's antics. Tony, as though he knew this was bothering Fury and that he was giving up the fight before it began sent him one of his trademark smirks.
Fury could already feel the headache gathering just behind his eyes.
Thors frown deepened; he looked at his brother with great concern, for just a moment, before tearing his eyes away to look to the friends who would decide the fate of his brother in this realm.
"His magic has been taken from him, and it seems has made him ill. I have not seen him so waylaid since we were but children, and he caught a terrible disease that confined him to his bed for weeks."
There were not pitying looks from his friends for his brother's illness. This would be difficult indeed.
"So why the hell is he here, Thor?"
Fury certainly wasted no time and cut to the chase.
"My brother has been banished to Midgard as I was- stripped of his powers until he is reformed enough to use them properly. I ask, friends, that you let him live among the Midgardians without imprisonment, as my father's justice is above mortal justice."
It was probably a distinct possibility that one could cut the tension in the room with a knife. Fury looked about to blow a gasket, and many of the Avengers were not pleased with the idea of letting Loki free, powers or no. The man had killed more humans than anyone particularly wanted to think about and they knew that just because he was without magic didn't mean he couldn't wreak chaos and destruction- it didn't mean that he was not still dangerous.
"Not a chance in hell, Thor." Fury's gaze bore down on the god like molten lava, as if Fury could incinerate all of Asgard for even suggesting something like just letting him walk free in the goddamn place he tried to overtake three months ago.
"Fury-"
"No."
"He is powerless, though! He will never learn the errors of his ways if you simply incarcerate him!"
Finally someone interjected. Bruce fidgeted in his chair, uncomfortable in the way that all eyes were now on him, some openly hostile. He was glad Loki was too out of it to stare at him, as well. His eyes were unnerving at best and Bruce wasn't the biggest fan of public speaking.
"I think locking him in a prison cell certainly isn't the key. Loki is... Loki is cunning, he's clever. Even without his magic, the likelihood of him still escaping is very high, and when he does we will be his number one enemy. He seems the type to hold grudges, and what better motivation would he need past the fact we threw him in a jail cell and wouldn't even give him a chance? Magic is not the only way someone can cause chaos and destruction."
Bruce coughed uncomfortably in the silence that pervaded the air when he was done talking. After an awkward moment Bruce began to speak again in the same soft but meticulous tone as before.
"I'm not particularly fond of him- nor do I think he shouldn't be punished for what he did- but what's the point in a punishment that only causes more damage?"
The atmosphere was stuffy and awkward as Clint and Fury eyed him like he'd grown three heads that they really, really wanted to stab in the face. He could feel a cold sweat break out across his palms and he shot a pleading glance at Tony, knowing the man hated silence and would talk and get everyone's eyes off of him.
"No, no, no, no, and furthermore, NO."
Fury's jaw was grinding together like he knew this was a fight he was going to lose and it was one he would about stab Tony in the groin to not lose. Well, really he'd like to do that anyway, but god damn it if his fucking Avengers thought he was going to let Loki, Destroyer of New York walk free.
"I'm with Fury here, guys. He destroyed half of New York, did you forget that? He mind-fucked me, and other SHIELD operatives and used us to accomplish that task! He should rot until he dies for all I care, but I sure as hell don't want to babysit him around New York, and you sure as hell don't want me to, either, because he might just accidentally disappear."
Thor very noticeably wanted to move across the table and wring the archer's neck. The veins on his arm and neck began to pop out as he struggled to control himself. Instead he repeatedly balled his fists, teeth grinding, and eyes shuttered into a horrifying glare. He made no comment however, unable to let free his tongue and contain his fists at the same time.
Clint leaned back in his chair, propping his legs on the likely expensive table and refused to meet anyone's eyes.
Steve looked to be debating it in his head, but his mouth was fixed in a thin, firm line. He wasn't going to speak until he'd heard the others.
"Okay, well, because I have entirely no desire to be here for longer than is necessary, I'm going to go ahead and vote Reindeer Games gets a taste of Midgardian life. Maybe becomes a hipster barista at Starbucks or something- who knows, he seems like the hipster type even if he caught on to the whole supervillain thing a little late- learns that we're not all that bad, then gets to go home to daddy a new man."
Thor's repressed wrath faded into joy, hoping that perhaps his brother may walk free after all. He shot his trademark delighted puppy grin at Tony.
"Think about this logically- and I know this is hard for some of you to do,"
He shot a knowing look at Thor and then Steve before continuing.
"so I'll save you the effort and outline it for you. If we send him back to Asgard for another punishment, or we keep him locked up here, that won't do us any good. He stays here in a cell- he learns to loathe us even more. We send him back to the place that fucked him up in the first place-"
At this Thor's eyes dropped to the ground, anger and guilt coursing through him, both vying for control.
"-they do some crazy shit like sew his lips together or bind him in his children's entrails and drip acid on him for centuries and he comes back even less connected to the good side of the emotional spectrum, intent on even worse revenge, or- we hope- somehow he figures out we're not all sacks of shit and aren't entirely worthless creatures and he decides not to lead another alien invasion against us. Or we kill him, because really, those are the only options."
Steve turned a little green at Tony's depiction of Asgardian justice, and his stony face wavered a bit as he looked to the man of the hour, who was obviously nowhere near lucid on the chair behind Thor. Now that he looked closer, he could see the faint tiny marks that dotted around his mouth. Steve felt his stomach churn in the same way the nightmares of dead bodies did. He forced himself to tear his eyes back to Tony, imploring 'that was just for the melodrama, right?'
Tony didn't give him the reassuring 'of course' look he was hoping for, but quirked an eyebrow at him, as if to say instead, 'what, didn't you do your research?'
Thor had grown oddly quiet, a haunted look about him as he gazed to his brother, his eyes begging forgiveness he knew he did not deserve. He did not know those stories had been told among this realm. It was of course then that Loki stirred some, shifting his position, and they could see that his eyes were open, if unfocused and half-lidded. A grim, sad smile tugged at the corners of his lips for those who looked closely enough.
At this Natasha began to speak, voice even and careful, her eyes obviously avoiding Clint's.
"They have a good point. But, I don't think we can just let him frolic along on his own. If we let him free we'll have to keep a watch on him to make sure he isn't up to anything and that he doesn't just disappear on us again. Like a very special probation sentence."
Fury's shoulders began to melt from rigid angry lines into slumped and defeated ones as he finally seated himself. He knew that he was not going to win this time. Miserably, he looked to Steve, knowing the goody-goody had been swayed.
Steve's blue eyes were firm as always, his lips still drawn as he sighed.
"We should give him the chance."
He didn't want to say it, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Everyone deserved a second chance, right?
Thor practically radiated pleasure, his voice booming far too loud for the modestly-sized meeting room.
"Thank you, friends! Your benevolent decision will be heralded for ages!"
He then proceeded to try and give the person closest to him a bone crushing hug, but unfortunately the person closest to him was Fury- who gave him that special glare of his that could kill kittens and puppies and rainbows and all things happy. Thor stopped in his tracks, smile never faltering, instead turning to hug the next closest: Bruce.
Bruce of course was terribly comfortable, but gave Thor that grimace-smile he was so good at and patted his back awkwardly for a second or two before, mercifully, Thor moved on to his next victim: Tony. Tony, of course, masterfully stopped the God's hug rampage and redirected him to Natasha, who smiled at him in a way that even the less-than-subtle Thor understood as not at all friendly.
Thor's enthusiasm was not, however, dampened any. He stood there and grinned like the cat had got the cream and was likely planning on some very weird form of Asgardian thanks to show to those who had aided him this day.
Clint however, was in no such joyous mood. His body was tense and his eyes drawn and glaring daggers at the people in the room as though they had personally slain his further comment he stormed from the room without waiting to be dismissed, kicking his chair over in his haste to depart. Natasha frowned at him as he left, her eyes following him with that was probably the closest her facial expressions would get in front of Fury.
Fury was silently praying to some other gods that someone could go back in time and fix the obvious and glaring family issues that possessed Asgard so that he didn't have to deal with this. He rubbed at his temples, hoping to allay the migraine that was steadily stabbing at him behind his eyes.
"Fine, we let him free on New York again, but so help me if he steps one foot out of line, I will have him in the least pleasant cell SHIELD has to offer before you can even blink, Thor. If he fucks up, I'm holding you, personally, responsible."
Fury's threats slid off of Thor like rain on a windowpane, and the god of thunder continued to beam at the room.
"Well, that was fun. Now if you don't mind, I've got a terrifying woman breathing down my neck to sign entirely too many papers."
Tony leisurely stood, taking a sip of what was probably scotch out of what was probably the most expensive flask money can buy, and sauntered out of the room.
Fury, still nursing what was likely to develop into a terrible migraine, rose and made to leave, casting a suspicious glance at the God of Mischief when Bruce's voice disrupted his sulking.
"Shouldn't we, you know, forge some documents so he can actually get a job and a place or something? We can't just toss him on the streets, and a job seems like a good starting point for rehabilitation."
Fury briefly entertained the idea of crying like a child before deciding he simply didn't want to, and didn't have to, deal with this problem anymore.
"Talk to Coulson, he's the one who'll be getting Loki cleared and squared away."
Thor gathered his ill brother into his arms and looked expectantly at Bruce. Apparently the scientist's suggestion had volunteered him to help with Loki's transition, since Thor obviously had no idea what was needed to get by in Midgard- his exile on earth had been short lived and filled with those whom had taken care of him.
Somehow, Natasha had already slipped from the room unnoticed- so Bruce squared his shoulders and they began their search for Coulson.
Well, there you go. That's the end of Act I of the Siren Song Series. Next up is a small ficlet called Keeping Score that won't be necessary to read but fits in between the space of now and Act II. Thank you for reading this far. Really my first multi-chapter fic i've done in years, too so PLEASE read and review- I'd love some ego stroking or some criticism. This WILL be a FrostIron fic, so if you don't fancy that now's a good time to stop reading.
Head over to AO3 to read this as it's meant to be read: As a series. It will update far faster than this will as this takes entirely too much effort (In fact this is supposed to be in chapters but separating this all out into different chapters in Gdocs and then dicking with them because eats my formatting is less than appealing.) So i'm doing an update today and the next time i do an update will be... likely faaar into the future. AO3 will be your best bet- you don't need an account to read.
http:/archiveofourown.org/works/461961
In other news, each act will likely be titled after a song. The Series itself was named after, and somewhat inspired by, 'Liar, Liar' by A Fine Frenzy.
"Liar, liar, you're such a great big liar
With the tallest tales that I have ever heard
Fire, fire, you set my soul on fire
Laughing in the corner as it burns
Right between the ribs, it's sinking in
Oh, oh, the sirens sang so sweet
And watched the sailors going down
Oh, oh, you talked to me in siren song
Yeah, anyone would drown
Anyone would drown"
Thanks again & Happy reading.
-Paranoia