-Asgard-

For the first time in his millennia, Loki the Liesmith was desperate. Desperate enough that he would have dropped to his knees and begged if he had thought the effort would be met with any success. He knew in his heart that it would not.

"Please, Allfather, he is a child! You would not leave him beneath us to spend the rest of his days as but a prisoner of Asgard?"

He had not been able to keep the shaking from his voice when he had brought the words forth. The Allfather, once his own father, had simply shaken his head, a sad gesture that should have been sympathetic but seemed far more contrived than anything.

"It is done, Loki. The oracles have spoken and I will not risk such a danger."

When Odin had been told of his coming fate during Ragnarock, his body torn asunder by the great wolf, he had made a swift decision. When Odin's guards had brought out the chains Loki had demanded that Odin listen to reason. He had spoken words that no man had ever dared speak to the Allfather. At least, no man that had ever lived. When he had been forced to his knees, his garments stripped from him, and his flesh whipped raw he had kept his eyes on Odin. He could feel the agreement of the court more than he could hear. It felt as though a veritable wave of coldness had washed over him the moment the leather had torn through pale skin. When the pain had become too great, he had shifted his eyes to meet pale green. The eyes he'd met instantly softened as they met Loki's gaze. They were not devoid of horror as the nine-tails was raised and brought down in succession until the gold-flecked tile had been spattered with blood. And when the guards had lifted Loki to his feet and began to drag him to the darkest pits of the palace reserved only for Asgard's greatest enemies those eyes had disappeared into the crowd of onlookers congregated in the throne room. They met him once more through the metal bars and hands reached across the barrier, clasping Loki's tightly.
"Fenrir has gone. He would not allow the guards to chain him and fled…Heimdall was unprepared…he has fled to Midgard…"
Loki had visibly shuttered at that, tightening his grip on the other man's hands.
"Midgard! He will surely be killed!"
The heavy metal doors barring Loki's freedom had been instantly unlatched and thrown open. The open doors had revealed a blond man with smiling eyes awaiting Loki's escape.

Throughout all, Fandral had been the only aspect of Loki's life that had been stable, consistent and unquestionably loyal.

In his hands he held a tied sack and when Loki had stepped from the cell it had been handed to him.

"You will find him, Loki."
Loki was led from the cell by the guards who the man had charmed into coercion and they had made their way undetected to the Bifrost. The man at his side had quickly disarmed Heimdall and thieved Gjallarhorn from his grasp. He thrust it into it's holding and the Bifrost sparked to life. Loki had spared him a glance and had taken him into an embrace that would likely be their last.
"You know what must be done if I do not return."
The man had broken the embrace and given a swift nod.
"But you shall return."
Loki had not been so sure but had nodded in reply. He had turned, stepping to the edge of the portals heavy embrace.
"Until I return..be safe, my warrior."
There had been no mistaking the emotion that had been quickly quelled on the mans face as he had crossed his arm over his own chest.
"And you, my Liesmith."
The portal had taken him in, sending him hurling to the mid-realm in a flight of dizzying spins.

-Midgard-

Loki stood to his feet, slowly, shaking off the residual dizziness that followed inter-realm travel and began past the thick patches of oak and fir, searching for signs of life beyond the line of trees that designated the beginning of the forest. His feet crunched along freshly fallen leaves, an there was an unmistakable scent in the air of spice of yet another sign of a chillier season on Midgard. The chill brought awareness to his blood stained back that had caused his armor to stick to his skin. It was most unpleasant. His exceptional vision lent him the image of smoke billowing in the distance so he fought his way through the trees, making a bit of a path as he continued searching for any life that could be commanded to give him rest.

As he blasted the branches and other Midgardian vegetation out of his path, his right hand wrapped in a crackling green haze, he seethed at the occurrences of the last 24 hours.

Fenrir had been harmless, in fact, he had been beloved of the gods, up until that wretched oracle had waggled her lying tongue.

Being the Liesmith, he was obviously able to live up to his own namesake while simultaneously possessing the ability to single out those who were false about…well, being false. The hag knew nothing. She was, like countless others, a fool desperate for glory, even if it was the glory of a false prophet.

And his father…

His father was even greater a fool for lapping up her words as he did.

Loki didn't know why even now, he referred to the fraudulent old wretch as his father.

Was he still, after all these years, so desperate for a parent that he chose to acknowledge Odin as such? Even after the lie his entire life had been curled around had been revealed to him?

A noise that could only be described as a snarl curled Loki's lip up in a rage.

Odin had taken Loki's son from him. His wolf. Fenrir. And now he found himself, clawing his way through the wilderness of this planet of inferior beings. Cattle really, meant to be herded and ultimately serve whatever purpose that was intended for them by their superiors.

Loki had been to Midgard many a time. His fool brother, whom he'd once admired so ardently, had once had the notion to come down and dwell among those who worshipped him. Even going as far as to lead their fallible, mortal armies into battle.

To their deaths. So fascinating how the simple creatures could even find it in them to try to make something of the miniscule lifespan they were given.

Loki had not protested at the time. Back then, everything that Thor did had been sacred, unquestionable. It remained that way still on Asgard. But Loki had turned from the ways of Asgard long ago.

He blasted one small tree out of the way, sending it spinning violently through the crisp air before it fell to the ground of an open clearing.

Loki surveyed the field, spattered with fiery hues of the harvest beneath the golden autumnal sky. On the opposite end of the clearing sat a formidable sized house, in truth, more a mansion.

A faint line of smoke rose from a brick chimney.

A far cry from his accomodations on Asgard. But he did not intend on spending the night lying in Midgardian soil like some sort of feral animal.

He was a god, no matter where he was, and these mortals would pay him his dues and give up the house to him for as long as he required it.

He hadn't taken five steps towards the building, when he felt an object connect rather deliberately with his shin.

Being a god, he couldn't quite have labelled the sensation as pain, but it startled him nonetheless. He looked in the direction of where the blow had come from and saw a boy.

He was a tiny thing, his head wouldn't even have come up to Loki's waist.

Dark brown hair, with a slight curl to it, covered his head, a few of said curls hanging in his wide brown eyes that were presently narrowed into the most fearsome glare a toddler could muster, some sort of small club held tightly in his little hands.

Once Loki had registered the situation, the alarm faded to be replaced by anger.

"You dare lift a hand against me, mortal child?" he didn't raise his voice. He knew his cold, silky tones to be equally as, if not more terrifying than a raised voice.

The boy's small nose scrunched up in a scowl, and he gripped the club more tightly, ready to strike again if need be.

Loki moved closer, his immense stature accomplishing what his words did not need to.

"I asked you a question, boy."

The child's features formed into what looked suspiciously like a smirk.

"I didn't touch you. My bat did."

Loki's fist clenched.

"Wha- …That is of no consequence. Are you aware of who I am?"

The child looked up at him, round, dark eyes betraying an intelligence that was not exactly signature to one so young.

"No…and I don't care. You're standing on Loki's grave!"

Loki couldn't have been more baffled if Odin had have showed up with Fenrir on a leash, a written apology and a tray of lemon squares.

"I…what?" he was displeased by the confusion in his own voice. It made him sound…human.

The impertinent little thing had resumed his glaring up at the god, his lower lip protruding in what appeared to be a slight pout.

"Loki's grave! We buried him today…you're standing on it. Now get off!"

Loki was so baffled by the boy's words, that he actually took a couple of steps back and glanced down at the fresh mound of overturned earth that the boy was jabbing his small fingers towards.

"You…buried…Loki." was all he could manage to say.

The boy's hostility seemed to ebb, but only somewhat. His tiny fists remained clenched around the handle of what he'd previously called a bat.

"He was…my dog." The little boy's eyes were suddenly far away, and had taken on a glassy appearance.

Oh gods… Loki rolled his emerald eyes. He'd lost his son, his closest friend, and his social standing in Asgard all in the span of a day. Now he was standing in the backyard of a peasant asking an insolent child who he'd rather beat with his own bat, questions about his deceased pet. Who he just happened to share a common name with. Loki glowered. "It matters not why you attacked me, the fact remains that you did. Now if you wish to avoid punishment of a most severe caste, you will direct me to the owner of that house." Loki pointed a tapered finger in the direction of the house. The boy's eyes widened and before Loki could register, he swung the bat again, catching the god square in the stomach. This time, it was more than annoyance that Loki felt. With a rather undignified grunt, he doubled over on impact, but seconds later reached out and grasped the boy before he could turn and scamper away.

The child struggled as he was slung over a leather clad shoulder whilst kicking and swinging the bat wildly and aimlessly. Loki reached up an arm and seized the thing wrenching it from his protesting hands and made his way closer to the house, the thrashing boy still tight in his clutches.

He dumped the child unceremoniously in a heap just outside the front of the door of the house. He clambered to his feet and the scowl returned to occupy his features.

"Now then. You will go to the owner of this building and you will make arrangements for me to stay…for as long as I desire." Loki began in a languid tone that nonetheless left no room for an argument.

"No. You're a stranger. And Gramma says I'm not s'posed to talk to strangers."

The tone with which he spoke the statement was delivered with an uncooperative, mocking edge rather than the unsuspecting naivety that would more befit one so young. It made Loki's jaw clench in anger.

"You will comply with my demands, human child or as I said-"

"There are commercials that come on the TV all the time about creeps like you." He continued informatively. "So if you have a bag of candy or a puppy under your coat, don't even try…my Gramma's a block parent."

Loki was ready to end the small wretch's short existence.

"I don't care what your peasant grandmother is…she will be made to surrender her house."

"This isn't her house, it's mine."

Loki narrows blazing emerald eyes. "The same applies to you then."

The child paid no mind to the demand, but instead eyed the statuesque god with a keen curiosity. His inquisitiveness seemed partly childish, and partly…analytic.

"Are you a homeless man?"

It was extremely rare that anyone conversing with the silvertongue would have the advantage of him conversationally, especially this early in, but here he was, rendered mute by this Midgardian child.

"Praytell, what-"

"Gramma says its rude to say 'Hobo', so I don't."

Loki narrowed his eyes in irritation.

"Interrupt me once more, child, and you will sorely wish you hadn't."

A look of fear and caution flits across the boy's face momentarily, but his expression soon relaxes once more.

"If you were gonna hurt me…you would've already done it." He says decidedly.

Loki took a threatening step towards the boy, who despite his conclusion, stumbled back rather hastily.

Loki gave a rather abrasive laugh at the boy's frightened antics.

"Not so bold with your words, now are you, young one? You know I could give you a reason to go mewling back to your vagabond grandmother."

The boy's young concept of pride seemed wounded at that.

"You'd better go back into the woods before anyone else sees you in that stupid costume."

With a sound somewhat resemblant of a growl, Loki gripped the young boy firmly by the back of the neck and spun him around to face the door.

"I will leave you to the punishment fit for Midagrdian imps like yourself." he declared bringing a fist against the door in an impatient rap.
Tony had not left his grasp, raised just above where his feet could touch the ground.
At this, the little boy's large dark eyes got even larger. Was his father home yet? He prayed to whatever god was listening that he wasn't. He twisted and thrashed in the man's grip, trying to free himself but also trying to meet his eyes with a pleading gaze
" Please, mister...please don't tell my dad..."
Loki did not have time for his pleas. He moved again to bang harshly on the door. He wanted to deposit this little human so he could continue his search and possibly find some rest. Tony waited with baited breath, his heartbeat slowing down at the gradual non-response from inside.
So his parents weren't home yet.
He breathed a sigh of relief then turned a bit of a disrespectful grin on the man holding him.
"Looks like I'm not gonna get in trouble after all..."
A howl comes from the wooded area beyond and Loki promptly dropped the boy harshly on the wooden porch and scanned the horizon. His mind reached beyond the trees, probing the area for his sons mind but found nothing. He inwardly cursed and promptly threw open the door to the home. His quick working magick unlatched the doors and destroyed the security systems Howard had built in one fell swoop. He hurled Tony into the house, the boy hitting the tile with a harsh crack.
Tony yelped as he connected rather painfully with the floor. Now he was scared. If this stranger wasn't going to hurt him, then surely his father would at the discovery of his destroyed alarm systems. Tony's lower lip trembled as he looks up at the fearsome man looming over him. Loki would normally relish in the look of fear that crossed Tony's face but he was in too much of a panic to notice. He pushed past Tony and made his way down the hallway, poking his head into each room as he passed. He needed a basin, some warm water, and preferably some warmer attire.
And he needed to be rid of the tiny shadow behind him.
Tony despite his sore tailbone, clambered to his feet and scampered after Loki following him from room to room, surveying him with keen curiosity.
"You know you can be arrested for this..."

Loki scowled at the boy and stops mid search.
" I do not know what this means but let me assure you it is no threat to me." He spoke swiftly as he went back to searching.
He finally came upon the kitchen, packed full with the latest and greatest technology, ever a testament to the wealth and innovation of the Stark family. He popped open the cupboards, hurling things onto the floor, hands thumbing through baking sheets and bowls and knives until he finally came across a large salad bowl.
He pulled the silver thing out and inspected it. It would do. He then stared at the sink with trepidation. He was not entirely sure how to obtain water from the contraption.
Suddenly, small fists grabbed the material of Loki's leathers and pulled hard.
"You can't just bust in here and take our stuff!" he exclaimed. His hands moved to bat at Loki, wherever he could get a hit in.
Loki snatched the boy around the throat and lifted him high above the ground. He eyed the little thing, struggling against his strength and smirked.
"I do what I want. " His tone was light, but menacing nonetheless.
He, again, dropped Tony to the tile below. There was a sudden clinking of keys in the door and Loki rolled his eyes.
How joyous...another human.
He pitched the salad bowl onto the floor, cracking the tile with the force, and pulled Tony up by the collar of his winter coat.
Tony's eyes widen in fear. He couldn't face his father. Couldn't take another beating. Not today. Not after he'd just buried his dog. The door swung open to reveal a woman who looks to be in her fifties. She eyed the scene before her with sharp, intelligent, dark eyes, but not without concern as they traveled from Loki to the child he grasped.
"Please sir...I have money. Whatever you want is yours, just let my boy go..." she pleaded within him in earnest.
Loki eyed the woman and then the boy in his grip. He let him down, a little more gently this time, and pulled his hands up tight against his sides, as if ready to defend himself, much like a cat backed into the corner.
"I do not require your currency...or your boy..."
She did not respond but let the toddler run to her and lifted him into her arms, holding him tightly against herself. She closed her eyes secondarily, thanking God for his safety, and then turned back to the man, who she decided for the moment is non-hostile.
"Is there...anything you DO require?" she asks, balancing Tony on her hip as his little hands cling to her jacket.
Loki watched the scene before him and suddenly ached for the presence of his son...he would cling to him as tightly as this woman did to the boy and never let him go again. Ignoring the stinging sensations running up and down his back, he opted to shorten his visit and forego the basin and water. He needed to find his son.
"A...warm cloak."
He would continue his search with the sullied armor, but at least he could be a bit warmer. His luminscent eyes fell to the young boy whose dark eyes were wide and anxious.
Suddenly, he was vaguely aware of the worry that flitted across his own face at the thought of the same expression on Fenrirs features.
The woman set the little boy on his feet, muttering a very firm 'Stay put' to him.'
She then began to make her way cautiously across the room towards where Loki stood, his expression a mixture of emotions, but discomfort being the dominant.
She held his eyes the entire time trying to project harmlessness and helpfulness.
"Is that all? You have a place to stay?"
Loki backed away slightly, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed tightly.
"I am not here to "stay". I require only what I have specified." he hissed.
He felt ridiculous, acting like a trapped animal. But he did not know how to approach this very novel situation. He realized, with a strike of embarrassment, that he had backed himself up against the counter. He grimaced at the feel of it touching at the wounds in his back.
"I have not much time." his voice wavered far more than he would have liked. The woman continued to treat him like a frightened animal.
"Are you looking for someone?"
He inwardly cursed at the trembling in his voice as he responded, his hands gripping the counter with such force that it began to crack.
"My...pup."
The older woman eyed him with a little more intuitiveness than she should rightfully posses for having just met him only moments ago.
"I see. Well night is coming...whatever you're searching for, you may have better luck in the morning. Can I take you back to the place you're staying?" she asked, surveying him knowingly.
The idea is desired. The chance for rest, and warmth, and healing sounds ideal but he will not risk that now. He released his death grip from the counter and moved forward a bit, edging away from Isabel, closer and closer to the kitchen entrance.
"The night will not hinder me. I must find him." his tone was clipped, but not nearly as venomous as before.
He moved past Tony, eyeing the little boy softly as a chill starts up his spine. Those eyes were brilliant.
Startlingly so.
He stopped at the alcove of the kitchen entrance, not looking back at the two humans.
"If you would not assist me I will move on."
Tony stared back at him, his eyes wide and curious. The man had made him angry at first, then scared. Now he didn't know what to think of him. He had some bad things happening to him. He'd lost his puppy too.
Isabel moved closer to Loki and extended an arm out to him.
"We will help you..." she spoke softly, in a voice that reminded Loki of how Frigga once spoke to him.
His eyes drifted to the setting sun just outside the kitchen window. No one from Asgard would be coming for Fen. His presence on Midgard meant he was as good as dead and therefore no longer a threat to Odin. But Fen was surely frightened...and alone. And Loki hated the idea of it. But, he had no idea where on Midgard he had come to, had nothing but the items Fandral had given him, which were only for the use of spells, and his travel through the Bifrost had exhausted him. His options were heavy and he was not thinking clearly.
Perhaps the night would be best spent clearing his mind and healing himself. He turned to face them, his eyes a little softer than before.
"Very well."
The woman gave him a gentle smile, and gestured to the door. She led him out to her car, not bothering with the mess he'd left behind. Tony gripped his grandmother's hand and shot curious glances over his shoulder up at the god as they began out the door.
The woman opened the passenger's side door and invited Loki to take a seat. She felt a tugging on her skirt and looked down to see her young grandson staring up at her with pleading eyes.
"Please, take me with you Grammy?" he begged, the tell tale tremble of fear in his voice.

A sudden image assaulted Loki's senses. In the darkness of his mind, the boy stood, fists balled at his side, but fear written on his face, along with dark bruises and a man towering over him. Loki visibly started at the image and paused, his legs still on the ground outside the car as he sat in its leather seat. He did not think his psionic abilities were present on Midgard. Whatever reasoning for his ability's sudden presence he blurted out-
"Bring the boy."
Whatever that image was, he did not want it to come to fruition this night. He could not think of it to see a boy cowering before someone more threatening than he. It was far too familiar. Silence enveloped the three for a moment as the woman surveyed him.
Loki sighed heavily as she lifted the young boy into the backseat, strapping him into a small car seat. This journey had not begun as he had planned. He could only hope that Fenrir was still alive and that his warrior patiently awaited his return to Asgard.