Atonement

By: Shadow Chaser

Disclaimer:

Loki and the Avengers along with all Marvel characters do not belong to me, they belong to Marvel Entertainment and Disney. I am only borrowing the characters for my own amusement and will return them (a bit battered, but hopefully healthy) when I'm done.

Story:

Chapter 2

His trip to the library had been two-fold; to see how far he could test Faendral's patience before the Aesir gave up on his task "bidden" by the Allfather, and because he wanted to do some research, particularly into geas. Both had proven fruitless as he now sat amongst the other Aesir and Court that had been invited to the feast. At least fruitless until he could return to the library after the feasting was done – though he suspected by the end of it, he would be going around trying to at least ease the hangovers of the Warriors-

Loki pressed his lips together quickly and quashed the thought. He was no more "friend" to them as they were to him now. They had betrayed him and he owed them nothing. The sentimentality of comradeship, or whatever had passed for comradeship in the years, was long gone when they all but told him that Thor was rightful heir and had defied him to go to Midgard to retrieve him from his exile. He had no choice, he had to send the Destroyer…it was the only way.

"…Loki," out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Frigga reaching over with a gentle hand and deftly moved his own out of the way. He did not need comfort, nor did he need the touch of the woman he had called mother all this time. He was a Frost Giant, outcast- he gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the fork he was using to push those thoughts out once more and turned his face a little to give Frigga a slightly simpering smile.

"I am well," he murmured as he found that he could not quite meet her gaze and instead stared at a point on her left ear before returning his gaze to the rest of the long feasting table. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the woman he had called mother for so long draw back, a hurt expression flitting across her face before it all but disappeared under a passive mask. Loki refused to acknowledge the hurt, did not acknowledge that something inside him squirmed at that thought. This was why he wanted to avoid Frigga – the woman could still make him feel like a disobedient child and yet so…loved, he grimaced, at the same time.

Affection was for the weak, a sentimentality he could not afford to show. Not here, not now. It was something that he knew the Allfather would not hesitate to use against him, something that he- Loki stabbed at the food a little harder than he normally would in an effort to stop his thoughts from straying to that other place. It was not the Allfather he should be concerned about, yet at the same time, he knew that he should be concerned, for both the Allfather and the one he refused to put his thoughts towards.

Instead, he focused his eyes and ears upon the head of the table, or at least where Thor was sitting to Odin's right hand, regaling everyone with a story of sorts; the story about how they took down one of the Chitauri's Leviathans, he realized. There was no mention of himself within the story and while Loki knew he should have been grateful for the exclusion, he could not help but notice that more than one eye had flickered towards him occasionally, but no one seemed to ask about his presence.

The Court had all seen him walk in with chains and muzzle and it stood to reason that they knew he had been on Midgard. Unless… Loki blinked as he shot a quick look to his right at the Allfather sitting at the head of the table. Thor had said that he had known of his true parentage, but nothing else. The Court of the Allfather had the reputation of being unable to keep secrets, so he suspected that many of them knew he was not truly Odin's son – though he never was, just a war trophy like the weapons in the vault – but it seemed that none of them knew that he had fallen to Midgard.

Curious…

Then what had the Allfather told his Court and perhaps even his advisors when he had conjured the dark energy to send Thor to Midgard? Surely not just a simple Chitauri invasion, right? But as Loki discreetly looked at the faces of the rest of the Courtiers he noted that their attention was focused on Thor, cheering or laughing at his descriptions of the violent battle as Aesir were wont to do, yet none of them had the look of curiosity of figuring out who was the Chitauri's leader.

The Chitauri themselves were known to the inhabitants of Asgard, existing on a branch of Yggdrasil, not quite under the protection of one of the realms, but rather, existing on the branches of dark space where none dared look. But Loki had looked, had even seen, even before he had fallen – had been thrown – from the Rainbow Bridge. He traveled within the branches of Yggdrasil, the shadows in-between, and had seen. And it stood by Thor's words that Odin had been quite aware of them.

Loki turned his gaze towards the Allfather again and narrowed his eyes a little. Just what was Odin playing at? There had to be something involved within this feast. He was expecting humiliation, but Thor was excluding his name within the narrative. Even the Warriors and Lady Sif who sat next to him down the table were quiet. Faendral had even relaxed, not even taking one look at him during the whole feast, a contrast to the task he had been "bidden" to do earlier.

Aside from the exclusion, he did not sense anything amiss and wondered briefly if he should cast a discreet spell to see if everyone was bewitched. But as he stared at the Allfather for a moment before looking down at his plate and pushed his food around, he wondered if that was the moment the Allfather would be waiting for, to condemn and punish him. After all, he had been brought back as a prisoner so there had to be some punishment involved. Yet, at the same time, the Courtiers and everyone else were ignoring him. Surely this was not the punishment…he was sure of it.

He normally held court during feasts, regaling the Courtiers and guests of the exploits of Thor and the Warriors, himself included, but at a much downplayed role – or at least a role that only the cleverest would figure out how much he had contributed. Those stories were usually ones that if one could pick between the words, were the ones where he had been instrumental in saving everyone, but as all ways, the Courtiers were much more interested in the physicality of exploits, not caring one wit for the trickery and masterful deception behind it. Idiots, the lot of them.

It also made slipping out of the tedious feasts a lot easier, everyone asking for more details of the gruesome battles or how the Warriors, Sif, and Thor had defeated such and such enemy over and over again. There were a few of those who understood his role, the tag-along Prince who had saved them all, but they were not there. He knew he could now easily slip away, but the question was, what the Allfather would do about it. He had done nothing except nod at the sometimes-flimsy excuses he had given, but right now…Loki blinked at his plate as he made the pretense of eating once more, recognizing the emotion within him.

He was afraid.

It was not fear in the sense that most thought, but rather the fear of anticipation; the fear of predicting what would happen yet at the same time be completely wrong in his judgment. He was very good, perhaps prescient in a way, in reading people and their intentions, and his abilities were failing him at the moment. He knew that the Allfather was planning something. But what that something was, he could not read from his posture and regal bearing.

"Loki, you're not eating," Frigga's whisper next to him made him pause in his attempts of pushing around food before he deliberately cut up a piece of the meat on his plate and ate it, his lips thinning in annoyance. He did not need mothering, especially from Frigga. This had been a bad idea – he should have said something during the audience, should have said he was not attending the feast and taken his punishment from Odin Allfather then and there. But his defiance, his sense of courage, he supposed, had fled him when the Allfather had unexpectedly broken his chains, releasing his magicks back to him.

It was so easy to fantasize about causing a ruckus now, to let loose the magicks upon others in an attempt to prove the Allfather wrong, but something within Loki stopped that. Unnecessary, childish, and most of all, utterly wasteful and stupid. He was not stupid; no, he was the cleverest of them all. So begged the question: why did he not do anything?

It seemed the question posed to himself finally snapped him out of his inaction as he felt something within break, set free on the beating wings of freedom and Loki placed his fork down before looking directly at the Allfather. "May I be excused?" he asked quietly, catching Odin's eye. Normally a polite excuse would have accompanied those words, but Loki was feeling a little too irritated by his own inaction to actually excuse himself – plus he wanted to know what the Allfather would do.

Odin stared at him for a moment before nodding once and Loki stood up, still anticipating something to happen, and noted the silence that had fallen over the table at his action. Here it came…

He turned and before he even took another step, heard another scrap of a chair being pushed back, opposite of where he was sitting. Loki shook his head a little, the brief sardonic smile touching his lips. Not even deigning the rest of the Court a look, he started to walk out, the sure footsteps that he recognized as Hogun's rounding the table, and followed him. So he was to have another guard with him…

He knew that under normal circumstances he would have made some witty excuse to the rest of the Court as to why he was leaving, to reassure them that even if one of the Princes of Asgard was leaving, it was not an insult to the rest of the Court. But Loki was not feeling charitable nor in the mood to make a witty excuse-

"Leaving so early to continue plotting to take over the throne?" Sif's acerbic words echoed loudly along the silent table and the gasps that accompanied her words made him pause mid-step before Loki allowed a small smirk to quirk the corner of his lips as he turned around to see the reactions.

Thor's eyes were wide with alarm and even Sif suddenly looked frightened at the words she had just spoken. The fear was not directed at him, but rather they were frightened of what the Allfather would do with such words. But as Loki darted a quick look at the Allfather, he saw that Odin had the mildest expression on his face. And so, he answered in the typical fashion he was accustomed to, "Always Lady Sif, always."

Without even waiting for the rest of the Courtiers' expressions, their gasps of surprise telling him everything, he turned back around and walked out, his steps sure as he left the feast. Hogun's quiet but sure steps followed behind, but Loki did not care. If Odin wanted to punish him during the feast, then he had lost his chance. Besides, the library was a far more interesting place than the stories of the feast.

It at least stopped him from hearing Thor's boisterous retellings over and over again.

"Has he been here the whole time?" Sif's quiet voice floated over to Loki as he continued to read the tome he had picked off of the library that was within the palace halls. The collection of books, spell tomes, visual knowledge, recorded knowledge, everything that was known and collected about the nine realms were all housed within this expansive wing that grew as the knowledge collected in the hundreds of thousands of years were added.

If Sif was attempting to voice her question without him hearing, then she needed a lot more work trying to keep her voice down. He did not hear an answer from Hogun and suspected that the warrior nodded, perhaps elaborated, but Loki did not look up from reading as he twisted his left hand and jotted down the interesting fact he had just read on a conjured quill and parchment he had summoned. He had no idea how much time had passed, but then again he did not quite care.

Hogun had not said a word since he had left the feast with him and came down to the library, ever the silent sentinel, but Loki had felt his penetrating gaze upon him during that whole time as he had browsed the shelves and picked out several tomes to read. Sleep was elusive for Loki, but not from the minor injuries he had sustained during the battle on Midgard – those had healed within the week he had been in SHIELD's custody – but rather he wanted to know more about geas.

The magicks of a geas was an interesting thing indeed, something he had long thought of, but really had no interest in casting one. For one thing, he had learned long ago that to enact a geas was powerful magic indeed, and took a part of the caster's to sustain and maintain. Loki knew his own limits, his own reserves, and casting one while was within those limits, was the most impractical magic ever. For one thing, a geas was subtle and manifested after a while, and even then one did not necessarily know if a geas was successful or not.

His current research told him that a geas was successful only if the caster was able to maintain the mental fortitude of actually thinking of what they wanted the geas to do – and maintaining that thought for a long time was perhaps why geas were rarely used by those who controlled magic. But something like Odin Allfather, all-powerful, infinitely patient…he could do such a thing and that was why he was researching the subject that he had discarded long ago once more.

It would be like the Allfather to have casted a subtle geas upon him, or even upon the Warriors to do something to him. The punishment Loki expected was not swift nor was it immediate as Thor and the others would have believed. No, Odin was crafty and if there was any indication, especially given what he knew about his plans, the Allfather always planned ahead. His excuse about finding a Jotun baby abandoned at the temple, Laufrey's son, and those abandonment of plans to unite the two realms was nothing more than a farce in Loki's opinion. Odin had plans, but in the short of it, it also told him that Odin was a long-term planner.

Which meant he had the mental fortitude to sustain a geas. Or sustain something akin to a punishment for a long while.

The only thing Loki could do was to anticipate and ready perhaps some defense against such a thing. The added bonus of having access to the library was giving him access to new spells and ways to perhaps plan a bit of revenge against the Midgardians. They had surprised him with their resilience, something he had not anticipated, even after he had gleaned the knowledge from Agent Barton. He would not make the same mistake twice, but at least he would have a bit of…fun…at their expense.

Thor would disapprove, but Loki was beyond needing Thor's approval, the oafish warrior who still called him brother leaving a slight bitter taste in his mouth. He flicked a look up at Hogun to see the quiet warrior talking to Sif, his mouth barely moving, his voice not even carrying in the silent library. So Hogun could actually keep quiet…and Loki felt a slight pleasure of approval fill him. At least one of the fabled Warriors knew the meaning of subtly and quiet.

In hindsight, conquering Midgard was petty and something he had done to rile his brother. If Thanos wanted the Tesseract who was he to stop him. It was not his fault that Thor and his so-called "Avengers" had been better equipped to deal with the threat of the Chitauri than the Other and Thanos had realized. He had only agreed to lead them with the promise of giving up the Tesseract and as far as he was concerned, it was the Other's fault for not holding up his end of the bargain.

He had been promised the Chitauri and what he had gotten was a force that could not even conquer one city, not even with the knowledge he had given to them from his questioning of Barton and Dr. Selvig.

The shuffling of feet made Loki look up from his reading and note-taking to see Sif bidding Hogun a goodnight before taking his place as the other warrior left. "Punishment for speaking out of turn?" Loki asked, smirking at the glare Sif threw at him.

"Someone has to keep an eye on you. We all decided to take turns," Sif replied, her voice harsh and holding barely contained anger. It was a decidedly interesting contrast to the seemingly mild-barely-there anger Faendral had when he had spoken to him earlier.

"Bidden to keep an eye on me?" he decided to use Faendral's words on Sif and saw a muscle along her jaw twitch in irritation. "Ah…so it is by the Allfather's commands then."

"It should be-," Sif abruptly stopped, clamping her mouth such and Loki smiled a little. He knew that whatever she was about to say was not for anyone's ears, especially not to a Prince of Asgard, nor was it to be uttered within the halls of the palace. It also meant that it was probably disparaging the Allfather's name and that was something a warrior of her status would and should never do.

"Tell me," he offered, setting down the quill and leaning back against the high-backed chair he had sat down in. "I promise not to tell the Allfather…"

"That is a lie," Sif snorted, utterly unladylike, but then again Loki knew that she fought hard to shed the "lady" demeanor many at Court were expected to adopt.

"It is," he agreed, "and perhaps not within these walls." He almost expected the familiar caw of Odin's two guardian ravens, Huugin and Muugen, who told him everything and anything there was. There was also the Guardian Heimdall, to whom Loki knew was fully Aesir, but one could not blame him for thinking that Heimdall was perhaps part raven. He knew the Guardian told Odin everything he saw, fearlessness and loyalty to the king absolute.

"Then why should I speak? You will twist my words as you are wont to do," Sif countered and Loki smiled. Lady Sif knew him too well, and surprisingly much like that mortal Natasha Romanoff, daughter of Drago, knew him well enough to attempt to manipulate his words back to him. Though Natasha perhaps took that attempt a little further…Sif was wise enough not to speak. Still…

"I will," he conceded, "but you will not be happy until you speak."

Sif stared at him for a moment and Loki could see the thoughts turning in her head, the moment where she wanted to open her mouth to speak her piece, before the moment passed and the sense of defiance fade-

"You should have paid for what you did," she suddenly said, her voice cold, imperious, a regality that he had rarely saw but knew existed. This was the voice of a queen, if Thor was not infatuated with the mortal woman had had met on Midgard. Then again, his brother was blind to a few things…

"I'm sure getting thrown off the Bifrost was payment-"

"Imprisoned and stripped, Loki, stripped of your magicks," she hissed quietly, "the pain of having your source flayed alive from your very skin. That should be your punishment and recompense for what you did to the Jotuns, to Thor, to everyone you have wronged in the hundreds of years."

"Banished?" he narrowed his eyes a little and she jutted her chin at him, staring down at him.

"Not enough," she replied, "banishment would only serve to ferment your anger and your fantasies of revenge. Banishment and forced into another form is too kind of a punishment for you."

Loki smiled a little as he sat back again and gestured for her to continue. He was a little pleased that she knew him this well to use the words she was using. She had given this a lot of thought. Too bad he would use it against her afterwards.

"You thought you could take the throne and use your might against others? To tell Thor that his father was dead? You thought you could walk back, in the farce of chains and a muzzle to guard against your Silvertongue, that all would be forgotten? I do not know what the Allfather has planned, but I do hope that it is a fitting punishment for you, Loki. To me, you are no Prince of Asgard; you are nothing but a thief and liar. You are unworthy of the love your parents have given to you. They took you from the cold, brought you here to raise you as one of their own and what you have done…unforgivable."

"Unforgivable?" Loki sensed that she was at the end of her words and leaned forward, a simple look on his face. He need not be menacing, he knew that and she knew that, but he saw her brace herself for the words thrown back at her. The twist and turn of the beautiful words she had spoken to him, from deep within. This was why he was called the Silvertongue, the nickname given to him by Thor and others.

"The Allfather has done nothing," he gestured towards the library around them, "nothing that seems to me is part of that unforgivable sin that I seemed to have committed. You talk of the childish petty love of the one who called himself my father who had stolen me from the hells of the world. You who have been coddled and want for nothing until you wanted more. You wanted glory, such frivolity in wake of your place in Asgard." He saw her flinch, his words hitting their mark and sneered, "Who is the petty one now?"

"They gave you a home-"

"They stole me from my home-"

"You wanted to destroy it!"

"Because I could!" he nearly shouted back and only restrained himself thus, "because I, not Thor, I am the rightful King of Asgard-"

"You are a Frost Giant!" Sif slammed her fists down at the table, her eyes darkening with anger and fury before a second later surprise and shock flitted across her expression as she realized what she had said and Loki shook his head, a sardonic smile crossing his lips.

"And that's the truth of it, is it not?" he whispered, sitting back once more, staring up at Sif who blinked and opened her mouth as if to say something, perhaps even an apology, but no words came forth.

"Your claims of home and of love, of family and betrayal?" Loki stared at her with a simple gaze, "Nothing." He saw something akin to fear in her eyes as she took a step back, her body tense, her jaw clenched with the underlying fury she had felt, but at the same time he read her worry just as easily. There were so many ways he could go about it, so many ways anyone could go about it – but most of all, it was perhaps the thought of what would the Allfather think or even do if he had heard the words. Loki could easily get up and tell the Allfather what she had just said, could easily conjure up their conversation to prove that she had all but insulted a member of the royal household, even if he was just a mere Prince.

Status, glory, and honor played so much in Asgardian society and Loki was a master at manipulating such theatrics even though he took stock more in status than glory or honor. Those two traits belonged to Thor and his boisterous, oafish, stupid attempts to bully his way through everything.

"You think me a monster," Loki saw Sif quickly shake her head.

"No-"

"Come now, I am the master of lies and deceit," he rolled his eyes at her, "you said so yourself. Frost Giant. Monster."

"I only said Frost Giant; do not put words into my mouth!" Sif shot back, the nervousness in her voice betraying the tense posture she adopted.

"Are they not the monstrous stories we all told each other when we were young? Of how they would come grab us at night? Were they not the stories told around the feasts embellished with decapitation and the like? Did you not feel satisfaction slaying them on Jotunheim?"

"Only in defense."

Loki smiled a little, "Ah, yes, only in defense. When you could have escaped back to the Bifrost landing site-"

"Thor needed help-"

"Thor never needs help," Loki snorted, "Thor never needed help. I clearly remember him doing fine against the hordes of Jotuns there. Wantonly killing them, even laughing as destruction rained down around him. They were nothing to him. Nothing to you, to Faendral, Hogun, even Volstagg."

"It seems they meant nothing to you either," Sif replied, her voice tight, her gaze dark, "why activate the Bifrost and destroy Jotunheim then?"

"Because the answer is simple," Loki stared at her, "I am a monster."

Whatever impact his words had on her, judging by the sharp intake of breath and the stilling of her form, it was broken mere seconds later when Thor's voice preceded himself, "You are not a monster Loki, do not say that."

Loki sighed loudly, and slumped against the chair, rolling his eyes in annoyance. Thor was the last person he wanted to neither see nor interrupt this interesting conversation he was having with Sif. It felt wonderful to manipulate words against another person again and Sif had tried her best, but in light of the his rather interesting conversation with Agent Romanoff, he wished she had done better.

"Go away," he all but glared at Thor as he approached them, dressed in a lighter set of armor that he normally wore around the palace grounds.

"Loki-"

Loki ignored him and began to gather up the tomes he had taken to read, feeling a little annoyed that his privacy had all but been invaded. He was still expecting the Allfather to hand down some kind of punishment, but if part of that was to see Thor, or hear him after being escorted from the Bifrost earlier that day, then this was one part of the punishment he would deftly ignore.

"Loki do not call yourself a monster. You are not-"

Just as Thor's hand landed on his shoulder, he spun, his posture set and defensive, the tingle of his magicks lighting up on his finger tips as he stared at Thor, his eyes flashing in a warning-

Thor tightened his grip on his shoulder and for a brief moment Loki wondered if his brother was going to hit him with the hammer, nowhere in sight upon his persons but nonetheless able to be summoned at a moment's notice, before he recognized the grip as an affectionate one and felt a revulsion of disgust. How stupid could Thor be-

"Are you just waiting for me to stab you again?!" the words fell from his lips before he could recall them even though he did not really know why he wanted to, but that part was quashed when he saw Sif's eyes widen and Thor's brows crinkle with concern.

"Loki, you are not-"

"I've already told you, I have no sentiment, nothing to hold me back so," he ripped his shoulder out of Thor's grip, "get your hands off of me before I put another knife through your ribs."

"Loki…"

He grabbed the tome he had been reading and pushed past Thor without a second look, hearing a scramble of Sif's footsteps behind him as he inwardly shook his head. So she had been tasked to follow him, much like Faendral. He wondered what she would think now that he was heading back to his chambers, his peace and solidarity broken by Thor of all people. Surely she did not have to watch him while he slept – though he would not be discomforted by the proprietary awkwardness, he did not care about that – but he knew that she would perhaps feel some discomfort.

"You're not a monster!" he heard his brother call out.

"We all are," he snarled back without looking, "Frost Giant, remember?!" If he had the chance to turn around after he threw his words, he would have seen the look of brotherly anguish, of blind acceptance of everything he was that Thor had on his face at his parting words. But Loki did not turn back.

Author's Notes:

Inspirations for this story are ConeycatJr's "Brother's Keeper" on fanfiction dot net and Alis Dee's "Agent Loki: International Man of Mayhem" series on AO3. I'm taking a particularly snarky if somewhat defensive-Loki approach as well as a healthy dose of he-doesn't-give-a-crap-about-people's-feelings. Further inspiration is from Tom Hiddleston being an excellent actor with Loki's characterization.