Chapter 2: Answers

The five were parked around the couch, Tony making a nuisance of himself, Thor watching TV with the children, and Steve contemplating his decision. Tony looked at the children on the couch thoughtfully. He got that smirk. The one that tells you that he has an idea. Now, when Tony had an idea, you'd better run for the hills. He pulled a hand off of his chin and his eyes twinkled with entertainment.

"Okay, Stark, please tell me you don't-" Steve began, seeing the look on Tony's face.

"I have an idea!" Tony proclaimed like a peppy prep.

"That's what I was afraid of." Steve muttered, rolling his eyes. A Tony Stark idea is bad news, he thought scornfully.

"Watch some more Spongebob!" Tony declared, his index finger raised towards the ceiling. He picked up the clicker from the stand and hit a few numbers to change the channel to Spongebob Squarepants.

Upon seeing the sponge, everyone groaned. The little boy with the shorter, oily-looking hair turned to his uncle.

"I do not think that Bob of the Square Pants is a pleasing 'tele-vision' show." he said, over-enunciating television. His shy sister nodded from behind him. "May we watch something else, please?"

Thor blinked, unsure of how to turn off the TV in the first place. However, Steve picked up the remote control from the arm of the couch where Tony had left it. He tapped two red buttons at the top middle of the controller. The yellow kitchen sponge shrank down into a tiny white dot and in a flash was gone.

"Hey!" Tony pouted. "I was watching that!"

"TV rots the brain, anyway." Bruce claimed from behind them. He wasn't the Hulk anymore, fully clothed and cleaning his glasses as he walked slowly into the living room.

So that's what happened, Steve thought, careful not to start a fight in front of the kids.

"It does not!" Tony cried in contempt.

"Tell that to my research." Bruce replied calmly.

"Okay. Research, you're wrong!" Tony yelled.

Steve rolled his eyes and looked at Thor, who seemed confused. Steve glanced out the windows. The sun had begun to dip down behind the buildings and skyscrapers, bursting on impact on the horizon, making the whole distant hillside turn a fiery orange. He cast his gaze to the children again.

"Alright, everyone, I think it's time for bed." Steve said, clapping his hands together. Everybody sighed and whined except for Thor, Bruce and Steve. "Not you, Tony!"

Tony perked up. "Yeah! I get to stay up! Ha ha, losers!" he boasted to the kids.

"Don't call us 'losers'." the little boy mumbled.

"Well, I wouldn't if you had names!" Tony said, his hands on his hips and his tongue sticking out. The boy turned away, scowling under his bangs.

Steve had had enough. "That's it, Tony! Go to bed!"

"Okay…wait a second! I don't have to listen to you!" Tony stayed, standing firmly.

"TONYYYY!" came another voice from upstairs. It was Pepper, who acted like a mother to Tony. "Come up here, now! It's past your bedtime!"

Tony blushed a deep red and his eyes flashed between Thor, Steve, and the kids. "Er… She didn't say bedtime! She said…bath…time…?" Tony explained awkwardly. "Uh…I have to go!"

Tony bolted out of the room, onto the elevator, pounding down buttons frantically. The doors seemed to close just in the nick of time, chomping in the panicking Tony Stark. Steve turned back to Thor and the kids. He was blushing, too, feeling the creeping awkward moment seep into the walls.

"Um…right…"

"What is this 'time of bed and bath'?" Thor asked, genuinely curious.

"Never mind," Steve stated quickly, the color of his face turned a darker shade. "Let's get these two snuggled in to bed."

…..

Loki's Son's Point of View

Uncle Thor and Mr. Rogersson tucked us in that night, making sure we were warm. Father would have forbidden Uncle Thor's presence within fifty yards of us. I rolled over in the oversized and oddly made bedding, making sure I was close to my younger sister at all times. Her occupancy of the bed beside me, no matter how diminutive, was reassuring to me. Falling asleep immediately, I thought of my father. Not exactly fondly, but not in an angered way, either.

I stood in the old palace; the gold-embroidered tapestry lined the walls and halls daintily. I looked around, scanning the long corridors for Father. At last, I heard his boots scraping against the floor in his dragging gait. The glint of the sun in his emerald green eyes and onto his raven hair confirmed his identity. His trench coat swayed and wavered from side to side as he silently stepped through.

"Father!" I called, my own voice sounding squeaky. His gaze finally rested upon me and he ceased his trek.

"My son," he pushed his fingers through my course hair and onto the back of my neck, his thumb gently stroking my cheek.

His eyes flashed with sorrow. He frowned at me and the flame of my happiness to see him faded and turned into a tiny vainly fighting ember.

"Father, what is wrong?" I asked, and his frown only seemed to widen.

This quickened my heart beat. What was going on? His expression changed into a deceiving smile and he mustered a pitiful huff of a laugh.

"My father, your grandfather, Odin, has decreed that we cannot stay together." Father told me sadly.

He could not conceal his tears any longer. I realized that this was his love for me, being spilled down his cheeks and onto his jacket. He retracted his hand from my head and knelt down to my height. I felt that it belittled me. However, I condoned the gesture and gazed into his eyes. Their green hue was a mix between light and dark; a further sign that he was distressed. When his eyes were a lighter hue, he was relaxed and happy. When his eyes turned dark, though, he was saddened or angry. And now, with this new shade of green, I did not know what to do.

"But, you are our father!" I squealed out, expressing my outrage openly. "He cannot take us apart! We are a family! He would not discard you like a piece of common rubbish!"

His eyes flicked to the lower left. Not a reassuring thing. I curved my eyebrows into a grievous arch and I felt hot, salty tears roll down my cheeks as well. My stomach churned as my father leaned in with his arms spread wide open. I let myself fall into the safety of his arms, the warmth of his body comforting me as well as his heartbeat. My nose drank in his familiar scent for the last time. When we pried apart, I stared at my father somberly.

"Does sister know?" I asked, thinking of how my younger sister would react. I imagined a terrified, teary-eyed little girl, broken down in a puddle of eye-fluid.

"No," Father answered, another tear daring to strike his cheek. "I've decided she is too young to know. But I want you to always remember that I love you. Never let anyone separate you from your sister. Protect her at all costs."

I nodded. "Yes, Papa. I love you."

"I must go. Odin has requested my return within five minutes."

Father unfolded and walked away, glancing over his shoulder every few moments back at me until he disappeared down the hall. I turned and slunk down the hall, ready to be exiled to another place, away from my family. Uncle Thor wouldn't take us, I knew. He was too foolish, too childish to take care of us. My father was the rightful king! Thor could just go away because I had a father smarter and more worthy! I soon found my sister, standing with a guard dressed in golden armor.

She sniffled, "Is Father coming?"

Swallowing the bile that arose in my throat, I shook my head. "We will see him again," I told her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her close, "I promise."

An empty promise, as I had thought at the time. One that could never be fulfilled.

After that, Odin sent us to an orphanage. It was dreary place with annoying other children and bland toys. I would roll a carriage across the floor and back, pretending to be a happy child. If we looked depressed or sick, they would pull us into a room to talk to an elder. So, I played. But I would only do so with my sister, shoving the other children out of our little world. I was protecting her.

Then, it happened.
We overheard something about Loki, our father. Impulsively, I snuck along the wall to the doorway of the adults' room. They weren't paying any attention to me, too engrossed in the conversation.

"That Loki! He's been spotted in Midgard! And just when we thought him dead!" one attendant complained to her friend.

Midgard? Dead?I almost screeched out my thoughts. I held my tongue, though, and resumed my eavesdropping.

"I concur," said the other, "I am glad he did not become king!"

But you don't know him like I do! My mind cried. I felt something soft brush against my hand. I turned and saw my sister, beaming at my side. I grinned back and craned my neck to listen.

"Oh well, at least it is Midgard and not here!" the first concluded.

The wood on the floor creaked as the boards shifted under the nannies' weight. I ushered my sister back into the play room where we were supposed to be in the first place. The two ladies sauntered in just moments after we did and paused in the center of the room. They eyed us with a knowing look. They then turned to the other children.

"Snack time!" they chimed together cheerfully and all the children spilled out into the hall.

The nannies left, too, now disregarding us like a bug on their shoulder. I decided then and there that we would escape. We would find our father. I snatched a spell casting book from the bookshelf and looked up conjuring. I found it in an ancient transcript. I took my sibling's hand, squeezed it tight. This was going to take a lot of magic.

I concentrated on the words… I read them slowly, letting them tumble off my tongue.

In a matter of minutes, we were swirling through a colorful vortex, down to Midgard…

And strangely, I heard my father's voice. I heard it lull me to sleep as we fell.

..

No Point of View

Loki's son shot straight up in the huge bed like a lightning bolt had just jumped and spiraled up his spine. He glimpsed around, his breathing heavy and his eyes bigger than saucers. As he took in the room, he remembered where he was. A blue light filtered through the window on the left wall, turning the red carpet a deep purple. As beads of sweat dripped down the boy's neck, he felt compelled to look out the window. He pushed the blankets away and stepped over to the big windowsill that he was able to climb into.

He stared out at the stars glittering down at him. When he looked at the streets below, he laughed at the precarious height. It's just like climbing a tree! he thought gleefully.

Abruptly, a snoring was called to his attention. The boy turned his head to see his uncle beside of his sister, drawing in air through his mouth, causing a loud, barbaric, pig-like noise. How was his sister sleeping?! He shook his head and gazed out at the sky. For a hot second, he could have sworn he'd seen his father in the moon. No, that was impossible. He walked back over to the bed when he realized that his throat was dry. He snapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Maybe the kitchen was open. He walked over to the elevator.

"Grrr…How did the mortals use this thing again?" he growled to himself, trying to jog his memory, only to find more frustration. "Oh, I'll just wait until dawn!"

He flung himself onto the bed, his arms crossed. He sat on the bed, looked down at his sister and stroked her hair. He raked it through his fingers, the softness of it feeling like silk from the most expensive attire. He sighed. Perhaps the softness came from their mother's side. Where was their mother? He didn't know. She was never mentioned. When they were still with their father, it seemed like a forbidden subject. So, they left it be.

Now, sifting through his sister's hair, he was thought-provoked. He pondered, thought, contemplated, and wondered. A stir from his sister's other side made him start. It was only his Uncle Thor, who sat up, his lanky frame creating a huge, muscular silhouette. Thor let out a breath as he slid off of the bed. When he turned, his blue eyes glowed in the dark as he set a gaze upon his nephew. He looked strange to the little Lokison because he wasn't in his formal armor. He appeared to be in Midgardian clothing. Why wear something that cannot protect you from an enemy's attacks? pondered the little boy.

"You are awake." Thor stated.

"Yes," replied the boy simply. "I am thirsty."

"I'm guessing you cannot work the L-Vator." Thor chuckled. The boy nodded. "Come, it is time for the Breaking of the Fast."


Hey, everyone! I'd like to thank all those who reviewed,followed, and favorited this story. And a big thanks to skydancer2ooo for the thought-provoking plot points! I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! Questions? Comments? Please write them in a review and I'll do my best to answer! XD