Doomed Never To Find

by tilthewheelsfalloff

"You're not handling Odin's death very well, are you?" "Odin as I knew him died long ago. I know my place now." She regarded him with a gentle tilt of her head. "No, you don't."

4. Winter

AN: Sorry it's late but it's 23K words. You know how it is.

Winter

Loki was panting, bleeding, and leaning against the wall under the window when Thor found him.

"Loki? I heard a ruckus - are you—"

Thor stopped when he saw Loki. His room was a catastrophe of wood fragments, strewn about clothes, and curios from inside of his vanity. It was shameful, piercingly so, but Loki barely had the energy to move. All he could do was sit and smile grimly up at his brother.

"As you can see," Loki said calmly, waving his hand generally in the direction of the chaotic destruction, "all is as is usual."

Thor made a tsk sort of a noise and padded his way through the mess. He was barefoot and dressed in a linen top and leather trousers. Loki wanted to sneer or tell him to leave, but that was only for the sake of his shot dignity.

Thor eased himself down onto the ground next to Loki. "What happened?" he asked gently.

"Fate," Loki said with a faint grin. "Whenever something is coming close to even the semblance of order, I ruin it."

"What have you done?"

Loki took in Thor's grave look. "Nothing to your precious Nyrlif."

"I didn't think you would."

"Liar," Loki said half-heartedly.

"Isn't that my line?"

Loki chuckled, but then his smile faded. "I argued with Brunnhilde."

Thor made a sympathetic noise. "Over what?"

"It matters not, but I implied some… less than savoury things about her."

"I thought that was run of the mill for your two."

"It is," Loki admitted. "But you know how I'm really quite good at knowing what people are insecure about?"

"Yes," Thor said slowly.

"And how I'm also really rather good at using said insecurity to craft insults?"

"Tell me you did not," Thor said, looking just every so slightly horrified.

"I did." Loki sighed. "I essentially said she was a good for nothing whore who would sleep with anyone, and that she was still letting the tragedy that befell her dead lover affect her relationships to this day. That last bit is perfectly true, but people generally don't like to be told things like that."

Thor squeezed his eyes shut. "Norns, Loki, why on Earth do you do things like this?"

"I don't know," Loki said, his voice dropping down in volume. His chest hurt from sadness, and a sense of having lost something that he couldn't put a name on. "I know I shouldn't. I know while I'm doing it that I shouldn't. But I do it anyways."

"Chaos calls to you," Thor said gently. "It always has."

"I'm sick of it," Loki whispered miserably. "I'm sick of all of this."

Thor wrapped an arm around Loki, drawing him in to his shoulder. Loki allowed it, became malleable to be touch and resting his head on his shoulder. It had been so long since any true affection had been given by Thor, or, really, by anyone else asides Ylva. That was his fault, too.

"What are you going to do?" Loki could feel Thor's voice through where his chest rumbled with it. It was so achingly familiar, and Loki had completely forgotten what it felt like. They were never overly affectionate in any soft kind of way, but in the low, quiet hours of a battle lost or even just a bad day, an embrace would not be unusual.

"I'm going to fix my furniture."

"I meant about Brunnhilde."

"I'm well aware, but I can't just walk in and apologise."

"Why not?"

"It's…" He shifted a little, and didn't know how to go on without really seeming like a child.

"Embarrassing," Thor finished for him. "Brother, a lack of humility is not a good look. And I should definitely know."

"I'm not sure," Loki said. "I thought you pulled off entitled manchild of a Prince rather well."

"Yes, well, we all make bad fashion choices when we are younger."

Loki grinned suddenly. "The wings," he said, laughing. "Do you remember that time you asked for bigger wings on your helmet?"

"Loki, shut up," he said, giving Loki's head a little whack, but he was laughing too. "Yes, I remember. And maybe remind you how much bigger your horns got? It looked like you had grown antlers."

"To be fair, those little finger-sized horns on my original headpiece looked ridiculous too."

"They were cute," Thor insisted jokingly. "Like a baby goat."

"I don't think baby goat was what I was going for," Loki replied, "but it's better than having an albatross perched on my head."

Thor laughed loudly at that. "They weren't that big. At least I didn't look like a cow."

"Cow? Thor, for the love of all that is good, get some new insults. Cows don't even have horns! Bulls do!"

"Ahh," Thor said, "so that is why that cow I tried to milk only had one teat."

They both burst into laughter that went on so long Loki's stomach ached by the end of it.

###

"Your highness."

Loki looked across to Eir as the woman sat down on the large rock beside him. "As I have told you many times, call me Loki."

"It seems improper," she said, her eyes glinting in that knowing way the eyes of mother's did. Her expression then settled into something more sincere. "Ylva is worried for you."

"There is no need."

"You have not had a single lesson with her for two weeks."

"She is proficient enough that the other seiðkonur can handle her lessons."

"Perhaps, but she wants you."

Loki chuckled darkly, and wished it wasn't true. He said, "she should choose a better man than me to idolise."

Eir laughed and Loki turned to her, wondering what was amusing. "When it first came out what had happened to you - what you did to Jotunheim - I would have agreed. But I think that then you were little more than a confused boy who's anger was left unchecked. Seems to be a trait of the Odin household," she added wryly. "I would like to say that you are different, but I didn't know you then; still, I can't imagine the man in front of me going on a temper-tantrum rampage in allied territory."

Loki tried to keep his face emotionless and chewed on that for a few moments. He barely recognised the self who tried to destroy Jotunheim. It seemed like some distant fever dream that was almost, but not quite, grounded in reality. He wasn't proud of it, but really, what was he proud of?

He couldn't figure out a good answer to Eir's comments, other than a meek "I suppose," and he just changed topics to ask the question he'd wanted to for a while now. "What happened to Ylva's father? If you don't mind me asking."

Eir tensed, turning away from Loki. "He was not a nice man," she said lowly. "He didn't make it off Asgard. Don't say this to Ylva, but good riddance."

"I suppose that's why she-" Loki cut himself off looking around, feeling magic sizzling in the air. That was not normal. He stood up, tilting his head as he felt for it, trying to figure out what it was. Whatever the magic was, or wherever it came from, it was strong and unfamiliar.

"Loki?" Eir stood beside him, looking about worriedly, but he knew she couldn't feel it. How could she not feel it? It was suffocating, sharp, and the air-

And then the lake began to freeze. It began at the shore close to them, but spread out towards the middle. There was only one race of beings he knew of that could make the air this cold so quickly. He turned to Eir to see her staring at the lake, eyes wide, her breath visible.

"Run back to the village, tell Thor, Brunnhilde, anybody to organise the militia," Loki hissed, "assemble the Avengers. Run!" Eir nodded and took off back through the forest.

The militia wouldn't be ready for this. They'd only begun training a month ago under Steve and Bucky, since they'd decided to stay. Loki was grateful for that now. Every additional day in training could be a life saved, but he knew the odds were stacked against them if this was going to turn into a real battle.

Only a few metres away on the lake, the air begun to shimmer. The space seemed to ripple and bend, then rip apart, opening up to a warped darkness. Loki stood up tall, turned his day armour into a more robust battle armour, and stepped into the shadows.

The portal stopped growing, and from it a figure stepped out. It's skin was a rich blue, with lines and marks that stood out like scars, marring it's skin. And there it was; a Jotun. It stood a good foot taller and broader than Loki himself - knowing he'd need more energy, he let the Aesir mask fall.

Loki watched as other Jotnar continued to stream from the portal, getting into a formation behind the first one, who was only clothed to the waist, but his chainmail and leather leggings were encrusted with clear jewels. A great many more kept on pouring out, which started at a reasonable amount, but was beginning to grow into an amount to worry about.

It spoke in a low, rasping voice that sounded almost painful. "Remember, leave no Asgardian alive. If you see Loki, bring him to me."

It turned back and begun to walk across the iced lake, the army growing by the moment, now a hundred or so. He obviously couldn't let them reach Nyrlif; he needed to stall. So, after taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the shadows and onto the rocky beach.

"I can help you out with one of those."

The Jotun grinned widely and opened his arms in a startlingly normal motion. "Loki Laufeyson," he said, speaking the word with a lighthearted venom that reminded Loki of himself. "About time we finally meet."

"I'd repeat the sentiment, but I'm afraid I don't know who you are."

"My name is Byleistr Laufeyson."

"Laufeyson," Loki repeated, trying to keep his cool facade going to smother the shock. "I'd say it's nice to meet you, but I fear your plan of destroying Asgardians will not make for a pleasant family reunion."

"Ah, Loki, you will not be present to witness it," said the beast, and it was surprisingly articulate. Loki had a strangely disorentating moment, like a horse had just asked him how his day was going. Of course, he had spoken to Laufey who was understandable enough, but Laufey was nothing close to this Jotun, who spoke with the articulation of a scholar. He had assumed Laufey was an outlier, hence how he rose to power; he wondered if it was a trait in Laufey's bloodline, or if more Jotnar than his blood father were as intelligent.

Ice stalagmites rose from the ground in giant sharp spikes, breaking him out of his pondering, so Loki danced out of the way and focused his seiðr on them breaking them into pieces.

"Well, that's rather rude," Loki said, trying to keep the conversation going. Just a little bit longer. "What did I ever do to you?"

"You killed our father. You attempted to destroy Jotunheim with the Bifrost," growled Byleistr. "For these crimes you must pay."

"Ah. Well, it took you long enough. I killed Laufey many cycles ago."

"You are not an easy person to find. Perhaps that is because you are so small."

Loki didn't really know what to make of that - whether to laugh or be offended, or perhaps both. It's not like he wanted to be taller than he already was, but part of him thought that if he was going to be a Frost Giant, he might as well be a decent one. He glanced back at the growing army and knew Byleistr was only letting Loki stall to increase the size of his army. Come on, Eir! he thought desperately.

Aloud, he said, "as I've been told, but I see now that all of the Laufey line is rather runtish."

Byleistr gave a rumbling chuckle. He was only a little bit smaller than his counterparts - it was a reach of an insult, and it was clearly not the angle to attack him from. "You know not of what you speak."

"Perhaps not. But I do know that you have vastly underestimated this planet, and the Asgardians. You cannot take them."

"They are no longer under Odin's protection. When I take it, I will be King of Jotunheim."

"As I said, it has been years since I killed Laufey. Shouldn't you be king already?"

Byleistr tilted his his head. "I am not your only sibling."

"So you are a kinslayer," Loki said casually.

"As are you," snapped Byleistr, without missing a beat. Ah. That was the sore spot.

"Regardless," Loki said, changing tracks quickly. That was the trick; jump from one thing to another so they wouldn't realise how long they'd been talking uselessly. "My father may be in Valhalla, but Midgard is still protected. Leave now whilst you still have a chance."

Thor took the moment to finally stumble onto the scene, staring at Loki. "Wow, you-" He steeled himself for Thor's anger, but Thor just stared for a few beats, then casually said, "you look different." He then addressed Byleistr, his skin beginning to dance with finicky blue electricity. "As my brother says, you will take Midgard over the corpses of Asgard."

Byleistr grinned slowly, like he was taking joy in the action itself. "Oh, Odinson. It'll be my pleasure."

Loki flipped his knives in his hands, and widened his stance. As the sky roared and cracked with thunder, the army of Jotuns began to sprint. There was a rumbling from the ground as the militia burst front the trees, headed by Brunnhilde, Natasha, Steve, and Bucky.

He drove his daggers into a Jotun who came towards him, and used seiðr to drag them through it and into it's shield-brother a foot away, spilling guts and entrails onto the shore. He called them back, then caught Thor's eye after he'd just electrocuted another of their foe.

"See you on the other side, brother," Loki yelled across the din of the battle, and he ducked to the side, hiding in the shadows.

For a moment, from the sides, the chaos almost blinded him, then his eyes snapped to a bolt of electricity that jumped to one unfortunate Jotun, literally frying it. Amongst the flashes of white and blue, a metal arm was glinting in the midsts of it all. Arrows flew from the tree line, seeking enemies true and sharp, and he looked up to see Barton crouched on a branch. Beside him sat Ylva, her eyes narrowed on the fight, her body practically trembling with effort, and he watched as a tree fell and landed on a gathering of Jotnar.

The loud crash of the tree snapped him back to his task. He had to close that portal. With the barest hint of thought, he slipped into Yggdrasil's branches, the pressure bearing down on him for a moment, then lifting as he opened his eyes to a spot a little more concealed and away from the mess of the battle.

He felt the air around him change and ducked just in time for the ice bolt to shoot over him. He spun to see Byleistr looking right at him. Loki looked towards the portal, Jotuns still streaming from it, far too quickly. Then back to Byleistr.

Oh dear.

Loki steeled himself as Byleistr sprinted the short distance between them, and tackled him to the ground, dropping and rolling; he felt them tumble onto the ice in their fight. Loki slid backwards, scrambled to hands and knees, and then lept to the side to avoid another shard of ice shooting towards him. Loki threw back a dagger of his own, and got to his feet as Byleistr dodged it.

But Byleistr's attack came again, and again, and again. He circled around Loki like a predator as he threw back his own helpless attacks. It was fast becoming overwhelming, and as Loki overbalanced from the speed of it and landed on the surface of the lake, he had a sudden moment of clarity.

He slammed his fist down onto the ground and the ice below him cracked.

The spiderweb of broken fragments converged into one deep rip, which water bubbled out of like a bleeding wound. It sped towards Byleistr, and circled him, creating a perfect ring. Then, with a deep boom and Byleistr's last are you kidding me? look, he was dunked into the murky lake.

It gave Loki the scant seconds he needed to gather his energy. As Byleistr scrambled out of the hole, sputtering, onto his hands and knees, Loki conjured enough daggers that he lost count. Then with a great push, he sent them speeding towards the monster.

And then, they froze in mid air, inches away from Byleistr's outreached hand. His grin was wide and crazed, and Loki's stomach dropped. Of course - how else would they make the portal if they didn't have a seiðr wielder among them?

"Oh, Loki," he said, as the knives spun in the air, agonisingly slowly. "You and I, we could be so much more than this."

He nodded over to the battle, which waged on like he was watching it from the cheap seats of a theatre. It seemed like fiction; it seemed fake. How could this happen?

"Think about it, Loki. with Asgard gone, Jotunheim's army rules supreme. It's only be a matter of time before we had all of the Nine in the palms of our hands. You could be apart of it. You could be apart of the glorious Laufeyson empire."

Loki's gaze snapped back to the monster, who had rose slightly, kneeling now. The daggers were all pointed straight at him. He began to walk in an arc that would circle around Byleistr.

"You would truly give me a place in your command?"

"You would by me equal. Not in Odinson's shadow, not squandering your talents on two-hundred Aesir scum," he spat. "You would sit at your rightful place in the Hall of Ymir, feasting on the flesh of your fallen enemies."

It was… tempting. The call of chaos - just to see what would happen. Loki could be in his Jotun form all the time, and he could draw power from Jotunheim. He'd be back to his old unstoppable self, and would finally have a throne. But he wouldn't be able to see Thor or Brunnhilde or any of the rest of them ever again; if he did, it'd certainly be in battle, where he would be obliged to at least attempt to kill them.

Was he really still the man who ached for a throne?

Loki walked round to the other side of the jagged hole in the ice. As he walked, the daggers reorientated themselves so they were always trained on him. When he came to a halt, Byleistr finally turned too, standing up carefully.

"So," Byleistr said, his chin lifting proudly. "What do you say, brother?"

Loki straightened himself out and spoke clearly, surely. "I have a brother, and he is not you."

Byleistr didn't deflate or nod defeatedly. He just smiled again, that wicked look back in his crimson eyes. "As you wish, Odinson."

The blades came hurtling towards him. Loki had anticipated that, and gave all his energy into a shield. It wasn't enough. He felt a searing pain in his shoulder, and he looked down to see his own dagger jutting out of him. He crumpled to the ground.

There was an explosive, high pitched scream behind him, and just one dagger stayed in the air whilst Loki let the others clatter onto the ice in surprise. It went slicing through the air the way it came, twisting to reorient itself, and right into the chest of Byleistr.

The King of Jotunheim crumpled onto the ice, unmoving.

Loki turned to see Ylva, her hand outstretched. He tugged the blade from his skin, feeling a dizzying wave of nausea, before it settled down and his magic wove through it to stem the bleeding and offset the damage until he could properly see to it.

"It's not safe here," he said, feeling proud and worried and like the adrenaline in his blood was going to be enough to keep him going for a million years. But he wanted to rest his forehead on the ice, too, for just a moment. "Go back to the settlement."

"'Thank you, Ylva, for saving my life.' 'Oh, It's no problem, blue-Loki, anytime!'" Ylva muttered, cycling through a deeper, dumber voice, before going back to an over exaggerated version of her own. She bent down, and was about to place her hand over his wound, before he stopped her.

"Don't touch my skin!"

"Yes, I got that." She kept her hands on top of the leather armour, and he felt the magic streaming through him. The pain was alleviated immediately, whilst a strange feeling of pins and needles worked through his shoulder.

He took a moment to look towards the fight. Both Aesir and Jotun were on the ground, red and rich purple blood running into each other, whilst those still standing battled for their lives. The portal was still open, so perhaps Byleistr wasn't the only person keeping it going. Steve and Bucky were fighting together, moving around each other, but Bucky's movements were getting sluggish. He was whipping his head around, and he suddenly seemed to stop, staring at his metal arm as though it was the first time he has seen it.

"Bucky?" Loki heard Steve shouting when he noticed Bucky's erraticism. Steve grabbed Bucky's head, holding him close. "Bucky! Stay with me! We need you-"

Then, Steve's startling scream of pain echoed over the frozen lake. A blade of ice protruded from his stomach, the blood splattering onto Bucky and spilling onto the floor.

With an animal roar, Bucky drove two daggers into the beast that dare touch his love, and hauled Steve over his shoulder before the man could so much as collapse.

Loki's felt a jolt of worry, but his attention was then drawn to the sky, where that son of a whore Doctor Strange was floating above them, occasionally popping out of existence with multiple Jotnar and returning moments later alone. Loki wondered for a moment when he arrived.

Thor and Brunnhilde, in another corner, fought together as though they had done it millions of times before. Thor was sparking, his eye glowing, electrocuting Jotnar around him, whilst Brunnhilde was a raging storm of short swords.

Loki looked back to the portal in time to see a small group of Jotnar had come into formation, and were sprinting towards the two of them.

"Ylva, stop!" Loki ordered. "Get out of here!" He struggled to his feet and stood in front of Ylva.

Energy blasts hit the ground between Loki and the Jotnar, stopping them in place.

"Loki, please tell me this wasn't you?" Stark asked as he landed on the ground, facing the downed Jotnar.

"It was not."

"Thank God, I really didn't want to have to deal with that fallout. Can you close the portal?"

Loki looked across to it. It was an ugly rip in the air, but didn't seem to be growing at all. "I can try."

"Do it. Rhodes, Vis, we could use you this way." He shot at a couple of stray enemies. "We'll keep them off you. FRIDAY, when the suits get here, keep them in this area, and don't let any escape."

Loki conjured leather gloves on himself and took Ylva's arm, leading her towards the portal. Standing a few feet from it he took Ylva's hands in his covered ones.

"I thought you wanted me to get out of here," she said, quiet rather than tetchy as the weight of what was happening fell on her.

"I do, but I am not strong enough to close this alone. Just do what you can to close it," he told Ylva.

"How?" Loki looked down at her. She wasn't the timid mouse she used to be, but she wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready for war, for entrails in the mud and bloody blades. Unfortunately, no one was ever really ready for the realities of battle before they descended. You could only hope that when it came to it, your shield-brothers could better hide the fear that made you tremble.

"Follow your instincts," he said, looking right into her dark eyes. They were so, so young. "You can do this, Ylva. We can do this together."

He squeezed her hand and let his seiðr rise past his skin. He pictured it in his head; a perfect sky without that tear, a perfect sky without that tear, a perfect sky without that tear.

He felt Ylva's seiðr beside his own, so much stronger than he had realised. She was determined and desperate, and it made her seiðr unfocused. Her hands tightened on his and she let out a small gasp, wavering.

"Shit! Thor!" Loki heard Stark shouting. He opened his eyes long enough to watch the stream of lightning hit a line of Jotuns to the portal.

Loki looked back at Ylva, she was looking at the constant stream of Jotnar with a look of dread. "Ylva," he hissed. Her eyes flicked to his. "I need you to concentrate."

"There are too many," she said, full of fear. "They're going to win!"

"Which is why we need the portal to close. Once it's closed, we've won. We've got our militia, and the Avengers, who managed to beat me. But this, this up to us and I know you can do it. Together, we can do it."

"I'm tired," she wailed.

"Just a little longer," he promised her. "Then you can rest, alright?"

She looked down and nodded, just as Doctor Strange landed lightly on the ice next to them.

"Want a hand?"

"Go fuck yourself," Loki spat. "Don't tell Eir I said that," he added to Ylva. "Take my hand."

Strange looked at Loki's offered hand, then back up at Loki.

Loki growled in frustration. "It converges our energy and keeps us on one track, rather than splitting us. Aren't you supposed to among Midgard's best magicians? Ylva knows this, and she's a ch-"

"Fine." He grabbed Loki's hand and his eyes shuttered closed, as did Loki's. The other man's seiðr wasn't at all like Loki's or Ylva's, but felt almost youthful and new, whilst theirs tapped into the ancient interconnectedness of Yggdrasil.

He pictured the perfect sky again, the portal closing, sewing closed the wound in reality. He felt it waver, and the hum of its energy wavering for a moment. Strange's energy felt honed in to the portals, like it was something they'd come across before, perhaps by another name.

Their seiðr wove through the portal, and Loki gave the pull to draw it close. Ylva's hand was shaking, and she was beginning to waver. He wasn't feeling great either; between the partially healed stab wound and the incredible draw on his power he felt light, and not in a good way.

He opened his eyes. The portal was half its original size - barely big enough to fit a Jotun through.

Then, through the haze of his seiðr, he saw Byleistr stagger up to the portal. He looked right at Loki, pulled the dagger out of his chest, and, shorter than his peers, stepped right through, whilst Loki was powerless to even think about stopping him.

With a outraged cry, Loki gave what he hoped would be a final push. The hum of energy rose to a strained peak, multiple discordant frequencies creating a piercing sound, which grew louder and louder until the ice vibrated with it under his feet.

Then, finally, the edges touched each other, and it was done.

He watched Ylva collapse backwards, eyes rolling backwards as she fell. He cradled her head in his hands before it hit the ground, pulled her into his arms, and let the darkness swallow him whole.

###

Everything ached and Loki wanted nothing to do with it.

"Loki?" Loki tried to ignore Thor's voice. "Brother, I know you are awake."

"I am not."

"Loki," Thor sighed.

After a moment, Loki forced his eyes open. The sunlight felt as though it was piecing his vision and he immediately closed them again, wincing. "I repeat my earlier statement."

He heard Thor moving around and behind his eyelids the room darkened. He opened his eyes again, looking around and immediately recognising Friggahof. He lay in a bed by a window, which was now hidden by a curtain. Many of the other beds were taken. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I went a few rounds with the Hulk. Again."

"Good thing Banner is away, or else Hulk may not have been able to tell you and the army apart." Thor chuckled obnoxiously while Loki stared. "You did well, brother. You and Ylva." Loki sat up, forgetting his pain. His eyes darted around, seeking the young girl. "She is okay," Thor told him hurriedly.

Loki relaxed, easing back down onto his bed with a groan. "Where is she?"

"Likely eating. She has been awake for a few hours and begun to heal as soon as she felt she had the energy, with the help of the seiðkonur. Although, she has been by your bed many times."

"Why am I here? Why not in my own quarters as before?"

"Many Jotnar reached the settlement, there has been much damage including Hunningard. Plus, Brunnhilde believed the power in this building would help in your healing."

Loki relaxed more so at the mention of Brunnhilde. If she was well enough to be making comments on where to put him, she must be truly alright. He didn't want their last conversation to have been an argument.

"There is one other thing," Thor said hesitantly. Loki flicked his eyes to Thor. "Byleistr escaped. He left through the portal before you were able to close it."

"I know," Loki sighed. "I saw him do it, but I couldn't stop closing the portal, else our efforts all be wasted. We'll just have to prepare for another attack. For now, however, I am hungry."

"Of course. I will bring you some food."

Once Thor left the building Loki took a moment to look around at the beds. He saw Steve unconscious, with Bucky unsurprisingly sat at his side, and one of the seiðkona bustling around, checking both of their injuries. Natasha was getting a bloody bandage on her leg changed by Barton. No other Avengers were in the hall, but the beds were full of Asgardians in varying states of consciousness.

"Loki!" Ylva shouting his name excitedly caught his attention, he turned as she climbed up to sit on the end of his bed. For how grown up she could be, she was in equal parts a real child sometimes.

Loki smiled, amused at her actions. "Ylva. I'm glad you are well."

"And you! I've been worried about when you'd finally wake up. You only just stopped being blue an hour ago."

"That is not surprising. I was weak before the fight."

"Does making yourself look like you do now use energy?"

"Yes."

"Then why do you stay this way?"

Loki frowned. "Did you not recognise what I truly am?"

"Well, yes. A Frost Giant, like those attacking us."

"... Exactly." Loki waited for her to make the connection, but she just shrugged.

"But you were helping us. Which obviously means not all Frost Giants are bad."

The logic was irrefutable, but oversimplifying to the point it made Loki want to groan. "My very skin will hurt you, Ylva."

Ylva mirrored his frown. "So can Korg's. He's sharp, but he's still good."

He rolled his eyes. "You are too young to understand," Loki said, wishing people would get it and just stop living in a fairytale world where he was excused for his crimes because he was at least trying to be a better man now.

Ylva scoffed. "I'm old enough to help you out in a big scary fight but too young to understand that you are not one of those monsters I was against? You're actually a good person. But you don't get it, and you're, like, old, so I guess I won't understand until I'm older than you are now."

"Ylva, you are already wise beyond your years," Thor said returning with a tray of soup and bread. Ylva grinned at the praise.

Loki took the tray, unsure how to react. "You didn't look happy to see me in that form," he said to Thor, then stuffed his face before he could say anything worse.

"It was the first time I saw you like that, forgive me for being surprised. Besides, we were about to be attacked, I was not going to be smiling."

"You used to smile before a battle."

"I have changed since those days. We all have." Loki made a noise around his food in response. Thor sighed. "Ylva you should rest, you have done more than expected of you."

"I'm fine," Ylva argued around a yawn.

"Take it as an order from your king."

Ylva frowned but nodded. "Fine. Bye, Loki, don't be an idiot." She climbed off the bed and wandered from Friggahof.

"Shouldn't she curtsy?" Loki asked.

"It's been a long day," Thor said, smiling fondly. "I'm sure she'll remember next time. You should also rest after you have eaten, though. If you are feeling well enough, we shall be having a gathering in a few hours to celebrate our victory and those who have passed onto Valhalla. It will be good to have you there."

###

Loki stepped out from Friggahof and paused in shock at the destruction around him.

Hunningard was in the worst shape by far. It seemed to have caved in at the front, although the side where his bedroom was looked mostly intact, so hopefully his things were salvageable. Though, this most important things he kept in his pocket, so it didn't matter to him too much if it was destroyed. Many other buildings had been damaged with deep cracks running through them. It took him a moment, but he realised that freezing the wood then thawing it in such a short period of time had caused it to expand and crack. Even if they were, on the surface, salvageable, the structural issues could mean they'd have to be knocked down regardless.

He spotted Ylva and Eir walking towards the community hall, talking, but Ylva saw him and stopped.

"Loki!"

He smiled thinly at them, cast a spell to change his clothes and strode towards them as quickly as his still-aching body would let him.

"How are you feeling, Loki?"

"I am well thank you. You got the militia quickly. Well done, Eir."

She shook her head, embarrassed. "It wasn't me. Black Widow responded immediately when I told her. It's she you should be thanking."

Loki just smiled and was about to make some comment about humbleness, when Ylva butted in with a stage-whisper, "accept the Prince's compliment, ma!"

Eir laughed. "Fine. Thank you, Prince Loki."

"Don't mention it," he said, grinning too.

They reached the doors of the community hall, which appeared to be more or less intact asides from one window, which was boarded over. A miracle in and of itself, given that it was one of the largest buildings in Nyrlif.

The very last thing he expected when he stepped inside was for someone to yell "Loki and Ylva are here!" everybody to turn, and promptly start applauding.

Loki stood in the doorway, frozen, eyes darting around for Thor, but was surprised to find him also applauding with a I'm your brother, so I'm definitely going to make fun of you a little bit for this later sort of grin.

"Well done!" Stark exclaimed, putting a hand on his back and leading him further into the hall. Stark wasn't wearing his actual Iron Man suit, but was wearing a standard Midgardian suit, which was burgundy and gold. Privately, Loki thought it looked a little kitsch.

"I- what?"

"You got the portal closed. I did not fancy taking a nuke in another one."

Loki was a little bit startled and flustered, and he hadn't even combed his hair before he came out - not to mention he didn't have any of his wax. Stark drew him to a banquet table which was laden with alcohol and food.

"Pick your poison." Loki grabbed the skull bottle of absinthe, since it was the only thing he recognised, and there was immediately a sword at his throat. He grinned and tilted his head up, glancing to the side.

"Brunnhilde."

"Loki," she said coldly, all bitchily like before they really knew each other. It was strange.

Stark glanced between them. "Is this a sex thing? No sex things in the community hall, please. This is a family-friendly environment, and I won't have sex things in my family-friendly party celebrating the brutal, brutal killing of an army of Jotuns. This is America, guys."

"Stop prattling, Stark," Loki practically begged.

"It's not prattling. It's a commentary on-" the blade suddenly found itself trained on Stark's throat, and he promptly shut up. "Righty. I'll be… somewhere else."

With that, he excused himself. The air between the two of them was excruciatingly awkward.

"You look like shit," Brunnhilde informed him.

"You don't look great yourself," Loki said dryly. She had a cut that travelled down her cheek and jaw where it stopped, but was resumed on her chest and disappeared under her day armour. She also had a black eye and a bandage on one arm.

"I look badass," Brunnhilde replied. "But the cuts probably won't scar," she said, a little sadly.

"How do you know?"

She glanced up at him. "I rarely scar."

Loki dropped his eyes to the ground and shuffled his feet. "Brunnhilde, I…"

"How many times are you going to collapse from magic before you realise that you need your friends, and you can't go round saying stupid shit like what you did because your big baby feelings are hurt?"

He was taken aback by that. She was just looked at him cooly. "If this apology goes well… that will be the last time in a long time."

She nodded, understanding he couldn't promise forever. That would be childish and, more so, stupid. "Better make it good, then."

Loki was good at apologies, but there was a difference between an apology and being actually apologetic. The latter he struggled with, always had. If he desired chaos - and he did - an apology was like saying sorry for something beautiful. Still, not everyone saw it like that, and he knew the benefits of calm after disorder.

He placed his right arm across his chest, fist resting over his heart. "I am sorry that I said what I did, after your generosity. I truly regret what I said; it was unfair, grossly so, and threw our friendship back in your face. I am sorry that I have not tried to be better."

After he finished, his eyes again found the ground. He hadn't felt so meek in years - he hadn't had to apologise like this since Frigga caught him high on a hallucinogen from Alfheim right before a public infrastructure meeting. Brunnhilde was silent for a long time; around them, the chatter of the crowd seemed quiet and far away.

"You won't try to be better," she said. "You'll be better."

He looked up, hopeful.

"If you try anything like that ever again, I won't even bother, Loki. I swear, I won't. I'm not your fucking mother and this isn't unconditional. But while we're here… I'm sorry for telling Thor about your family. You trusted me with that and I didn't even think. I know I said so before, but I kind of… got distracted. So I am sorry for that. Really."

Loki bowed his head. "Apology accepted."

"Good. Even?"

"Even."

She grinned and gathered him into a back-slapping hug. He reciprocated, grinning into her neck. "Good to have you back, shield-brother."

"And you, shield-sister."

They seperated off, still smiling, when a small cough to the side drew their attention. It was Doctor Strange, who wasn't in his battle garb, but rather was wearing odd loose clothes in a style Loki hadn't seen before.

"Am I interrupting?"

"Yes," Loki said. "Thank you for your help, and kindly leave."

"Who is this guy?" Brunnhilde whispered.

"He's the one who had me falling through portals for half an hour," Loki said back.

"Twenty minutes," he corrected. "You're welcome, by the way. I spoke to Thor while you were asleep. He said you'd been having… issues, which he thought stemmed from your magic."

"They're quite resolved, thank you."

"Are they? Well, anyways. Have you tried meditating?"

"Strange," Loki said, through gritted teeth. "I am a thousand years older than you, and one of the greatest seiðr users in all of the Nine Realms. Yes, I have tried meditating."

"What the hell is seiðr?"

"Magic, idiot." Brunnhilde rolled her eyes.

"Interesting," he replied. "What technique do you use?"

"What do you mean?"

"For meditation. What technique? Focused attention, open monitoring, zazen, vipassana, mindfulness, et cetera? The list is really endless."

"Ah," he said. "Uh. I don't know it's name. I just sit and imagine energy drawing towards me."

Strange looked amused. "Does it help?"

He shrugged. "Enough. Meditation is not the most effective way of gathering more energy; runes do a far better job, but you can't walk around with runes on all the time."

"Runes?" It was Strange's turn to be confused; he glanced to Brunnhilde, who made a I dunno expression.

"Yes. Symbols of power. If you draw them on your skin with animal fat and charcoal - paint would suffice, but the more natural the better, and fat doesn't remove easily - they inform the universe that you're about to use seiðr, so the energy is already there, waiting for you. Do they not teach you about that in your temples?"

"No, they didn't teach me that," Strange admitted.

"They might not work for you, anyways. Your seiðr is different to mine."

"You sensed that too?" Strange looked excited. "The impl-"

"Right, as great as this little seiðr convention is, I'm really wanting to get drunk right now," Brunnhilde interrupted, "so could you guys leave it 'til later? Get Stark to give you each other's numbers or something."

"I don't have a cell phone," Loki said.

Brunnhilde stared. "Even I have a cell phone. Can't you magic text each other, or something?"

The two men glanced at each other. Strange said, "I suppose we could… devise some method."

"Well there you fuckin' go," Brunnhilde said. "Now, are you going to drink something?"

Strange shook his head. "I don't drink. I was about to leave, anyways, when I spotted you. I'll send you a link to an article on meditation types," he said to Loki.

"Thanks," Loki said, not inclined to tell the man he didn't have a device on which he could access the internet. "Goodbye."

"Bye," Doctor Strange said, turning his back, and disappearing into the crowd.

"What a weird man," Brunnhilde said. "What's with that pathetic beard? Is it a Midgardian trend to look like a pubescent boy?"

"Must be," Loki pondered. "That, or humans can't grow beards."

"No, they can, some of the men in Sharpsburg have them. Anyways, not like you can grow one, either." She nudged him playfully. Norns, it was good to have her back.

"Yes, and at least I admit that," Loki said. "I don't try regardless of how patchy it'll be."

"Perhaps you should, just to make a passive aggressive statement to Stark."

He turned to her. "How would me growing out my facial hair make a statement to Stark?"

"Well, maybe he'll see it, and thinks that it looks bad, then realises that his own-"

"I hope you're not about to shit-talk my goatee, Valkyrie," Stark said, sliding up to them out of thin air.

"Never," she replied sweetly.

He snorted and refilled his glass. "Sure thing. Are you two ready to join the grown-ups table? Bruce has finally showed up, and he won't admit it, but he's totally missing you guys."

"Why would we want to hang out with the Bellenders?" Brunnhilde replied.

"That's nothing like Avengers! All they have in common is that they rhyme!" Stark cried, something inside of him apparently finally snapping. "You're driving me insane, Val. You must know what we're called! How could you not? You're just having us on, right? This is just one big joke. Please. It has to be."

Her face was flat, but in a strained way that meant she was trying to stop herself from laughing. "I don't know what you're talking about, Stark."

He groaned, downed his drink, refilled it, then stalked off, all with a maddened expression on his face. Loki and Brunnhilde just bit their cheeks and kept a deadpan expression.

"I saw that you were at the head of the militia," he said innocently. "Have you been involved in their training?"

Brunnhilde turned to face him fully. "No thanks to you. Natasha and I were talking one night. Apparently you were going to ask me for help."

"Natasha and you were-"

"Don't change the subject, Loki."

Loki felt his face go a little bit hot. "Fine. Yes. I was going to. But…"

"We fought," she finished for him. "I know. But if you hadn't been so damned childish, I might've had more time with them. I did what I could, but if Natasha hadn't've asked, there may have been even more deaths today."

"I didn't know we were going to be attacked," Loki protested.

She sighed. "I know."

"And you probably wouldn't have agreed to be apart of it even if I had asked. Not after what I said."

"I dunno. I hate to admit it, but you were kinda right. I don't do shit. And it's time I start contributing. It's why I said yes when Nat asked."

Loki stared at her. "I'm glad you've seen sense?"

"Don't push your luck," she said.

"Noted," he replied. "When is the funeral?"

"It's tomorrow night. Stark said we're going to have to bury them in the woods, in a designated area."

"Why can't we do a traditional funeral?"

"The lake isn't big enough. It'd contaminate the water," she said, looking unhappy.

"Oh," Loki sighed, feeling disappointed. Traditional funerals were always a sight to behold. He didn't like the idea that those who had died in battle wouldn't be given a warrior's send off, but he didn't really mind forest burials. It was how Vanahiemians were buried; likely, Sigyn's interment would have been in the forest too.

"I know," she said. "At least it's cyclical."

"I suppose," he said, then, "Can I have some of your absinthe without a sword at my throat?"

"Only cause you're pretty," she said, then handed him a tumbler.

###

The evening after the funeral found Loki sat in the community hall by the fire. The funeral had been tough; Thor had spent the entire thing tense and angry, obviously disappointed in himself for not doing more. He'd given a speech about how valiantly the people had fought, but when he sat down, Loki saw the hard lines of disappointment around his eyes. Loki knew in moments like this he couldn't help; where the old Thor would have raged or disappeared for a day to go get in a fight without consequences, the new one could only sit and look proper. He couldn't leave, not now, and he couldn't be so explosively angry in the middle of Nyrlif, so he was trapped.

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice so quiet it could barely be heard over the crackling of the fire. "Hey." It was Bucky, his hair in limp strands plastered to his face, and the sound of heavy rainfall came through the doorway where he leant.

"Evening," Loki greeted, gesturing to the bench beside him and pushing the plate of snacks closer. "How is the Captain doing?"

"He'll survive. No thanks to me." Bucky fell into the seat facing Loki, crossing his legs and leaning on his knees. It reminded Loki a little bit of Steve.

"You carried him from the battle, did you not?" Loki asked.

"Yeah, but it's my fault he was injured."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I keep having these strange.. Flashes?" He looked conflicted for a second, then settled on the word. Bucky, according to Steve, was struggling to readjust fully. Things came slower to him, and sometimes didn't come at all. "Yeah, flashes of shit that makes no damn sense."

Loki leaned forward. This couldn't be good. "May I ask for an example?"

Bucky frowned, thinking back. "One of them grabbed my arm, my left one. It obviously didn't hurt but then I looked down, and..." He hesitated again. "It was as if the metal cracked off like shards of glass, but instead of a human arm, it was one of theirs. Then it was like I was in this wasteland and… I dunno."

"Ah." Loki looked down to his hand and flexed it, watching the tendons shift under flesh and blue veins. "That-" He let out a breath, and tried again. "It appears when I was healing your mind, I left some of my own memories."

"I don't understand."

"That sounds like the day I discovered my true heritage. I had not meant to leave anything. My apologies," he said tensely. That was embarrassing, not to mention horribly revealing. He hoped he hadn't left anything else too telling.

"That actually explains a lot."

"Have you been struggling with this for a while?"

"Since… well, since you healed me." Bucky stared at the fire. "I'm still figuring out what was me and what was the Soldier, s'all, and some of them just melt together. Then there were things that made no damn sense whatsoever like that, so I thought it they were to do with the Soldier."

"You should have come to me."

"You've had your own problems."

"Perhaps," Loki said thinking over the last month and a half since he had healed Barnes. It felt like much longer.

Bucky looked over at Loki, taking a sandwich from the plate between them. "Is there anything you can do?"

"I- I'm not sure. When I have regained my strength I can have a look in your head, if you'd like?" Bucky grimaced making Loki chuckle. "Or you can ask me if there is a memory you're unsure of, I can inform you if that was a deed of mine or not."

"Yeah. That'd be helpful. Thank you."

"Of course. I'm sure Steve would be willing to help for the other memories." Bucky pulled a face that Loki couldn't quite interpret. "Perhaps not?"

"No, he would. But he would also get excited that I'm making progress." Bucky stressed the last two words with finger quotation marks. "I think he just… he just, uh, he got it in his head that after that shit was out my head things would go back to how they were... by not doing that, I've disappointed him."

"I may not know him as well as you, but I don't believe it is physically possible for Bucky Barnes to disappoint Steve Rogers."

"That's exactly the issue, though. Am I still Bucky Barnes? I've been ripped apart and put back together over and over again. I've been tortured more times than I care to count. I don't think I can ever just…" Bucky shrugged helplessly.

"I understand. Thor and I… Sometimes we are truly brothers again, after everything that happened. We have moments that feel as though nothing has changed, and then others that I can see more than ever how much nothing will ever be the same again. How much I ruined. He doesn't realise what I've been through. I think it is impossible for the loved ones of those who have experienced horror to truly understand what the horror entailed. They might know, but they don't understand."

"Have you tried talking to him about it?"

"You sound like Steve," Loki said, smirking slightly.

"It's Sam who he got that off. Sam's always asking me to talk about it," he said, clearly exasperated. "But still, have you?"

"I told him of ginnungagap, but I have never told him of the tortures Thanos put me through."

"Ginnagap?"

Loki chuckled. "Ginnungagap. The Void between worlds. Silence enough to drive anyone mad; all you could hear was your own heart and your bones creaking. Complete darkness asides as a few stars. And then there was the endless, eternal cold."

Bucky looked like he was thinking hard over something. "I think I remember the cold, I mean, fucking freezing. And that it just went on and on and on, for ages. And this fear, unadulterated and pure. As the soldier, I was never really scared, least not till Steve said my name. Not that I remember, anyways, but maybe they programmed that out of me. So, I guess that was you?"

"Indeed," Loki said, feeling half mortified and half relieved that someone else got it, even if it was as a result of a complete accident. "The fear is probably Thanos."

"Who is that?"

"The Mad Titan. Dark Lord. Pure evil. He found me in the Void and… I joined him only to get away from the cold, and then because I had no choice."

"What did he do to you?"

What did he do?

He made Loki submit and any and all ways he could think; he picked at the tender scabs of Loki's attempted suicide, bore into him that no one at home would miss him, and that the only way forward was under Thanos. He pushed his little fears out into the open and pulled them apart. But the thing that Loki really resented him for was when he lost control of his own mind, Thanos would make it feel right.

All of his memories of that time arrived in the moment halfway through like a dream. A piece of rag being worked into his mouth for him to bite down on. Clanking, rusty chains around his collared neck, like the ones that Odin would use mere months later and would make his head scramble to keep ahold of reality. A swarm of insects crawling up his arm, inside of his nose and ears. Ice pressed into blistering burned skin. One of Thanos' minions taking her hand through his hair like Frigga did, only to clench her fist and drag him towards the ground by his scalp when he let out a sigh.

What did he do?

"He broke me."

"Did they wipe your mind and rebuild it too?"

"No. He used what I am to make me what I became. My anger, my loneliness. He used it against me. I don't remember it all I don't wish to, either. Some things are better unknown."

"God, I wish I didn't remember so much," Bucky said, looking up at him with exhausted eyes. Loki knew that, too; the weight of the past so heavy, it seemed unsurmountable.

Loki tilted his head. "I can remove your memories, if you really wanted."

Bucky looked as though he was considering it for a moment, and Loki wondered if he really was going to say yes. Loki had the brief notion that Bucky was made of tougher stuff than that, but he amended the thought - who wanted that weight, especially out of some misplaced idea of what made one strong?

But then he shook his head. "Thanks, but I can't run from it. Steve would hate it if I tried, and if Stark found out I was tryna dodge his punishment…"

Loki shrugged. "The offer is there."

They fell silent for a moment, staring into the fire. Loki felt pleased but raw at having discussed what happened years passed.

"Y'know that strong drink Valkyrie likes? Could you maybe magic it here?"

Loki summoned the skull bottle he knew was lying, abandoned, in a cupboard in the kitchen of the hall, and passed it to Bucky without a word.

###

"Oi, Loki," Brunnhilde called out.

Loki turned from where he was helping to rebuild one of the houses, feeling a strange sense of déjá vu. They had started the repairs the day after the battle, having to tear down some of the damaged buildings to rebuild them, starting with Hunningard - which was finished now - and the residences which had suffered the worst of the damage.

Brunnhilde stood with Steve and Bucky, the former of whom had a general expression of morality, or perhaps righteousness. Oh dear. "Yes?"

"We're starting training with the militia again, and we've got more volunteers," Brunnhilde told him. "I thought you might like to be more involved this time around."

Loki stood up straighter. "I… Yes, I would."

"Great, we're meeting in Munningard in a few."

"Am I still needed here?" He asked the group of Asgardians he was assisting. Once they all gave shrugs of indifference, he followed Brunnhilde into Hunningard, where Loki then began to genuinely wonder if he had gone insane.

Loud music was blasting from a small speaker in the centre of the room; in the corner behind Thor's throne sat a massive pine tree. The Iron Man and War Machine hovered near the top, helmets down, flying around and covering it in sparkling colourful tinsel.

On the floor sat Banner with a long wire covered in small bulbs, his skin turning an uncomfortable shade of green as he muttered, only just loud enough for Loki to hear above the music, "why do they ask the angry man to do the most frustrating job? Why?"

Beside him stood Barton, he hung a small shiny red ball onto one of his arrows, notched it into the bow and fired it into the tree. The ball got caught on a branch and hung on it, the arrow however continued through to hit Stark's metal clad leg.

"Watch it, Neytiri! I literally just got this repainted, and I'll have your guts 'stead of this tinsel if you don't be more careful!" Stark yelled. Barton chuckled, and seemed remarkably unbothered.

Natasha stepped into his view from where she had been hidden by the tree. She held more of those shiny balls in various colours, hanging them on the evergreen. Her lips were moving - no sound loud enough for him to hear over the music - but as Loki watched, he realised with surprise she was mouthing along to the song. Her eyes slid towards him, widening slightly when she saw him watching her, and then narrowing in such a fierce glare that Loki found himself amused and terrified.

"What are you doing?" Loki demanded when everyone just carried on, rather than inform the prince what they were doing to the throne room.

"It's almost Christmas!" Tony replied cheerfully, as though it were obvious.

"Tony, I don't think they had Christmas in Asgard," Barton said slowly, and the music went quiet.

"Why not?"

"Loki, who's Jesus?"

Loki looked between the mortals feeling as though he was missing out on a joke. "I do not know." Barton smirked at Tony.

"Actually, Christmas originally started as a Pagan festival during midwinter. It's also known as Yule festival or jólfaðr." Banner told them distractly, eyes still focused on the lights he was untangling. "It started on the Winter Solstice, when the days begun to get longer and would last twelve days. There's one legend about Wotan – Yule-father, or Odin as you'd know him – charging across the sky on his eight-legged horse, so kids would leave their boots out on Solstice Eve, filled with hay and sugar, for Sleipnir's journey. In return, Odin would leave them a gift for their kindness."

"Wait, wait," Stark held up a hand, grinning. "Odin was Santa Claus?"

"He never did any of that to my knowledge," Loki said.

"Nor mine." Brunnhilde added.

"Well, the traditional idea of Santa did come from Saint Nicho-"

"I don't care. Santa Claus does exist!" Stark pumped his fist turning back to the tree. "Cap, maybe you can explain Easter to them, make sure to tell them all about Judas." Rhodes laughed.

Loki turned to Steve hoping for an explanation but he looked more annoyed than anything. "I'll get you a Bible to read," Steve said dismissively. "Or you can just look it up yourself."

Until now, Steve, Bucky, and Stark had been successful at avoiding each other in the small settlement despite the other Avengers urging for them to talk. It seemed something had transpired without Loki's notice, because the three seemed at the very least not opposed to the other's existence, which was a step up from how it had been. Loki did wonder, however, if Stark was putting on a happy facade just for the sake of making it easier, since he knew he was outnumbered.

"Well, on that weird note, I'm gonna be in there." Brunnhilde separated off, heading into Munningard.

"Remember that Christmas you tried to steal a tree?" Steve asked Bucky, following her.

"You had been ill all month. I wanted you to have a good Christmas," Bucky said, laughing slightly, as though it were an acceptable reason to steal a tree.

Steve and Bucky moved to the table, bickering over a past Christmas whilst they set up a map of Midgard with various flags across it, each signifying a base, route, or other landmark. There were also little statuettes of soldiers, signifying contingents or wider forces.

Loki stood at the side, watching the other three discuss their plan for the meeting. Asgardians began to stream into the room, standing about nervously. Steve spoke up, trying to seem friendly, but, due to his impressive size and strength, mostly failed. It was like many of the Aesir forgot that they were, at a baseline, stronger and more durable than their human counterparts.

"For this exercise, we're here," Steve said, pointing at New York once the group had arrived. "Give me your best strategy to go about taking down each of these bases," he pointed to ones through New Jersey.

A man, Einar, spoke up hesitantly. Einar was a shy fellow, but sharp when it came to strategy. Had he been born in a different family, he may well have been a general; instead, on Asgard, he had run a highly successful brewery. "What technology do we have? Midgardian technology, or like we had on Asgard?"

"Earth, uh, Midgard. You can take into account SHIELD and Stark's technology."

Silence followed for a moment, then, slowly, they begun to discuss different methods amongst themselves. They grew more and more animated, arguing over the merits of one route over another. Loki watched the group, interested in the thought processes of the individuals, but noticed as Brunnhilde became more and more stony-faced and withdrawn. Eventually, she turned on her heel, and strode out of the room, head bowed.

He followed her, feeling Steve's questioning looks on his back. Brunnhilde had already run from Munningard, but he knew where to find her.

She sat on the shore of Lake Semerwater, her dark eyes cast outwards to the glassy-calm surface. He could see was holding back tears, her eyes red and puffy. Without a word he sat down beside her and waited quietly.

"I was doing alright, y'know, on Sakaar. Drinking enough that I could sometimes forget, watching Hulk beat people's faces in. It was good. Then you and your stupid brother had to come along, drag me back into it all. And now this. That stupid battle. All the people, talking about routes… it just reminded me of them. Of her."

"You've never really told me what Arnnbjörga was like," Loki said, hesitant after what he said during their fight.

"You never asked."

"You wouldn't have told me. Especially after what I said."

"True," Brunnhilde conceded. "She was so smart. Smarter than you, probably, if you could believe it, the finest General I've ever worked under or with. She was strong and beautiful, and when she died I think part of me went with her."

"What happened?"

"We were told to go to investigate a mysterious force in the outer regions of the Nine, orders directly from Odin. In hindsight, he probably knew what he was sending us in to do, but at the time, we were barely prepared for such a force. We thought it was just some skirmish or disturbance, not the Goddess of Death. We got there, and she slaughtered us. Eighty elite soldiers, the finest of Asgard's women, just… wiped out," she whispered, taking another swig. Her voice stronger, but raw, carried on. "Hela threw a blade at me, but Arnnbjörga stepped in front of it."

"Brave," Loki said admiringly. It took a real true heart for your first instinct to protect another rather than yourself; it was an instinct Loki hadn't overly nurtured.

"Foolish. I shouldn't have survived that attack. I should've died with her. Then, at least, I could be in Valhalla, rather than this shithole."

"What happened next?"

"She died on the battlefield. I hope it was almost immediate, but I don't know, because I didn't check on her body for a few minutes. I didn't know what to do. The messenger had been shot," she added, like it was supposed to be a joke, but was really more just horrific in its magnitude. "So I just activated a flare and waited for help to arrive, sitting in the blood-thick mud, surrounded by the bodies of my shield-sisters. Odin arrived with an entourage. He looked like how he always did. Couldn't even summon up a pretense of sorrow," she spat.

"I heard about it," Loki admitted. "We weren't told what was happening either, just that the Valkyrior had been sent off and would be back soon, then came news of your destruction. Thor was so angry that he hadn't been told - he wanted to join you, help the soldiers."

She chuckled softly. "He told me he used to want to be a Valkyrior, until he found out they were women."

"How did you end up on Sakaar, then?"

"I knew of a few ways out of Asgard other than the Bifrost, so I stole a ship, and I ran." She smiled wistfully and said, "I travelled for a while, explored realms. I was lost for awhile - but I didn't care. It's not like I was aiming for anywhere, y'know? Then, as I was travelling through one of the secret paths, I passed cause I was drunk, and was caught up by one of the scavengers. Grandmaster liked me, probably for the same reasons he liked you. So I became a scavenger as well."

"The Grandmaster has odd tastes," Loki said.

"Saved us both, didn't it?"

That, he supposed, was true. "His bodyguard Topaz always hated me, though. I'm not sure why."

Loki looked across to her. "Her planet, Gwendor, was attacked for its strategic position during the ancient wars - the ones waged by Bor. She lost everything at the hands of Asgard."

"Asgard," spat Brunnhilde. "Who hasn't lost everything at the hands of it? It seems that everywhere and everyone Odin came into contact with lost something."

And wasn't that just sickeningly true?

###

After a very strange party celebrating the turn of the year - which, for some reason, involved Stark grabbing Loki and kissing him as the Avengers and Co drunkenly yelled 'happy new year' - Secretary Ross was due to visit the settlement.

According to Stark, he had been attempting to arrange a call in since they arrived on Midgard, but Stark had managed to put him off until the battle, which had obviously rather changed their situation. Now, Ross was demanding he be allowed to visit or else he will ensure life will be made difficult for them, possibly attempting evicting them from Midgard, which Loki thought was rather ambitious given human's complete lack of interplanetary travel.

After telling the more disliked Avengers to leave for the day, they were to meet Ross at the main entrance to the settlement, which was flanked by Vision and Stark. They were in the process of creating a road between Nyrlif and Sharpsburg for trading and travel purposes. It wasn't smooth enough for a car yet, so they watched as a older man with grey hair and a full moustache walked down the path, surrounded by guards, and a young woman in a black suit carrying a electronic tablet as a notepad.

Stark strode towards them confidently. He took the woman's' hand and kissed her knuckles, making her shy away bashfully. "Miss Rae." He stepped back and put an arm around Ross' shoulders in that overly-familiar way that he did, leading Ross towards the group. "Secretary, so good to see you. Come, come. You remember King Thor."

"Your majesty." Ross held out a hand but Thor just eyed it.

"Do you not bow to royalty in Midgard?" Loki asked mildly, smiling impishly across at Ross.

Stark removed his arm and stepped back, an amused half-smile across his face. Ross looked between them all.

"You're not serious?" When Loki just lifted an eyebrow, Ross sighed and bowed to Thor. It was a terrible, awkward bend of his body that kind of reminded Loki of when Laufey was forced to bow to Odin at the decennial meetings of the Nine Realms.

Stark had a strained look, like he was trying to keep in a raucous laugh. "This is Loki… y'know, I never asked, are you still Odinson? Like Thor?"

"No. I... I prefer Loki Asgardson." Loki caught Thor's eye, whose face was carefully blank.

"I like it, very New Year new me. Anyway," Stark turned back to the general, putting his arm around Loki's shoulder. Loki immediately shrugged it off with a poisonous look of what-are-you-doing-you-maniac. "Loki, meet Secretary Thaddeus Ross."

Loki offered his hand hand. "Secretary." Ross took his hand gingerly, and dropped it as soon as he could. Loki was very irritated by his pettiness.

"Stark tells me you did your time in Asgard, for what you did to New York."

"Yes. I am now pledged to my King." The pledging had been awkward; Loki on one knee, reciting age-old words, while Thor tried not to laugh either from seeing Loki so splenetically submissive to ceremony and tradition, or from the joy of his brother finally saying he'd stay. Loki had broken the promise, but not the pledge.

"From what I understand, you were pledged to your last king, yet you still betrayed him and Asgard when you attacked us."

"I was pledged to protect Odin, yes," Loki said, "and Odin was never in any danger. Neither was Midgard, really."

"That sounds like a technicality," Ross said, his eyes narrowing.

"I rather thought Midgardian politicians enjoyed technicality," Loki said bluntly. "Or have I been mistaken?"

Ross did not like that at all. He shifted uncomfortably, and looked irritated. "That does not fill me with confidence."

Loki considered his reply. "Secretary Ross, My grudge was never against the people of Asgard or Midgard, merely Odin. Now all that remains of that dynasty is Thor. My brother, whom I have no intention to betray." At least, not seriously. "Nyrlif is where Thor resides, and therefore, I will do everything within my power to protect it."

"And yet you refuse to sign the Sokovia Accords?"

"I may have certain abilities, but I am not joining the Avengers as a superhero. Is that not what the accords are for? Heroes?"

Ross glared at him for another moment, Stark cleared his throat. "He's been here ten months, he hasn't tried to kill us yet, and has healed some of my nasty genius engineer burns, so, tour?"

Loki wasn't sure why he had been forced to join as he was pushed to the back of the group alongside Ross' PA, who's expression couldn't seem to decide if she was terrified to be walking with Loki of the New York Attack, or excited to be in the presence of a demigod. He followed them as they made their way around the settlement; Stark seemed a natural when it came to politics, and Loki was glad he was here for this. Thor was terrible at the subtle art of decorum and diplomacy. It was something Odin was going to train him more in, before... everything.

Loki followed them for a while but eventually slunk away to Brunnhilde's quarters when they passed them.

"Ross is a son of a whore pig who deserves to be castrated," he announced as he let himself in.

"Would it kill you to knock?" she asked, upending a man from her lap, who sprawled unceremoniously onto the ground.

Loki froze. "I didn't realise you had company."

"Oh, he was only dropping by for a chat," she said. The man in question wore only those shorts that Midgardians did for underwear, and a tank top; he was probably from Sharpsburg. He sputtered and scrambled to his feet.

"This isn't your boyfriend, is it?" The man demanded, red-faced.

"In your dreams, Chase. Now, get out of here."

"Brunn-"

"No, get out of here. I'm done with you for today."

The man looked between Brunnhilde and Loki, who gave him a helpless look. He mumbled something angrily, shoved his jeans on, and let himself out.

"What was that about?" Loki asked.

"He was being pushy. I wasn't having it," Brunnhilde replied. "Midgardians are something else, I swear. Thinking they're so important as to ask what is essentially a Goddess to be exclusive."

"Their arrogance knows no bounds," Loki said, without much conviction. "Ross almost refused to bow to Thor."

"Did you say something?"

"Oh, I did. I wanted to see how he'd react."

She smirked. "I swear, you only obey social conventions when it pleases you."

"Of course," he said, banishing his uncomfortable ceremonial armour in favor of simple leathers and linens. "Speaking of, drinks?"

She shifted uncomfortably. Loki's smile faded. "I'm actually trying going sober," she said.

Loki was taken aback. "Oh," he exclaimed awkwardly. "How honourable."

Brunnhilde just gave him a side-glance and picked up her Dragonfang sword, twirling it around carelessly. "Don't get too excited. I'm just trying it out."

"My excitement is contained," he deadpanned. He conjured a short sword and jumped into a stance. She mirrored him, and they began a lazy spar. "How long has this been going on for?"

"Since the post-attack party," she paused as she dodged a particularly sharp jab from Loki. "Are you actually trying to hurt me here? Fuck. Anyways. After you left, I ended up getting so drunk that I passed out before I reached my house, and I was found by a concerned citizen," she said distastefully. She launched an offensive that left Loki's brain scrambling.

"Haven't you done that before?"

"No, actually. I always made it home. This was the first time."

He caught the sword with his and held it in place so he could look down at her. Her face was carefully blank, and her arms were beginning to tremble as she pushed the blade against his. He let up slightly, and she took advantage, hooking her leg around his and pulling so he ended up on his backside. She kicked his blade away from him.

"Checkmate," she said.

"Indeed," he said, now looking up at her from the ground. She hadn't broken into a sweat. "I am bested."

She grinned and led out a hand for him, tugging up him to his feet. "How difficult was that for you to say?"

"Not so difficult when under duress."

"So you do have a head between those ears."

"And so it seems do you," he said carefully. "It is a good decision to try and cut down."

Brunnhilde turned away from him, and he knew she was hiding whatever expression was plastered on her face. "Yes, well, I do not want to be an embarrassment."

"To you or to others?"

"I am already an embarrassment to myself, but it is shameful to be so in front of the general populace," she declared, though her voice was weak and unconvincing.

Loki frowned and approached her. "You are not an embarrassment."

"You said it yourself, Loki. I don't do anything."

"You do. You help run the militia," he said, not sure how to make her feel better. Wallowing was not a good look on someone who had been so consistently strong, at least in front of Loki. "And you provide me with drinks, which makes your presence well worth it."

She let out a frustrated sigh and turned to face him. "You're not very good at this."

He picked at his nails with his thumb, looking down at his hands. "Apologies."

"Don't you go self-pitying too," she said, exasperated. "We can't both be terrible."

He gave her a sharp, false grin. "I suppose the pity expenditure can only afford one of us at once."

She snorted. "Exactly. It's my turn."

"Well then," he said amicably. "What can I do to help you stop being pitiful, so that I may be pitiful instead?"

She shrugged. "I don't know what'll make me feel better. Time. A good drink, but I can't have that. I was speaking to Stark, and he said that most alcoholics… they have to quit absolutely, or they'll just relapse and be as bad as before."

"Alcoholic?" He tried the word out in his mouth, saying it slowly. He hadn't heard the word before - or if he had, he'd paid no attention to it. It certainly wasn't a word used on Asgard.

"Someone addicted to alcohol, drinking," she muttered, her eyes to the ground like a scalded child.

Loki felt some big strange weight settle over him, though he knew it must be nothing compared to Brunnhilde's. He felt lost. This wasn't something he'd ever had to deal with before. He took a few careful steps towards her.

"Brunnhilde… would you…?"

She looked up at him, and nodded, biting her lip. She was on the edge. He drew her into his chest, one hand cradling her head over her soft hair, and the other around her shoulders. After a moment, her arms found their way around him, her head flat against his chest.

"I believe you'll be fine, in the end," he murmured, after a long silence. She began to shake, her body making trembling convulsions as she held back tears. "I believe it, Brunnhilde."

She laughed thickly, sniffing. "You place too much faith in me, Loki."

"I am merely returning the favour," he said quietly. She chucked again, and Loki didn't say anything at all when hot tears began to bleed through his shirt.

###

Loki found himself enjoying council meetings more recently. He was taken much more seriously than he ever had been in Odin's court. Steve stood at the side whilst they discussed methods and techniques of training the militia, especially with the resources they had. Thor, Bucky, Brunnhilde, and Loki all sat around the table in Muginngard.

"We should begin teaching the older children strategy," Loki said once the conversation lulled to a stop. "They shouldn't be soldiers - too weak to fight against adults, regardless - but allow them to sit in meets and learn. Ylva would do well to receive this education, as would many of her friends."

Steve frowned and crossed his arms, like how he did whenever anything that could possibly encroach on someone's liberties was suggested. "They're children, Loki."

"Children who have seen a war and seen their home destroyed, Captain. Ylva was invaluable during the last fight." He looked up at Steve, softening his tone. "They are no longer the innocents they were; they have seen their friends and families massacred, their homes destroyed. It would be good for them to learn, and perhaps one day we will have great generals from them."

"I was in my first battle not much older than some of them," Brunnhilde said, casually leaning back in her chair. "I agree with Loki. Get them in the meetings. They're already learning hand to hand, and some of the older ones are asking to learn with weapons. Why not teach them basic strategy? It'll hardily scar them," she added dryly.

"You would have joined the war even when you were twelve if you could have, Steve," Bucky added.

Steve looked around the table considering for a moment then finally nodded, "Okay. Long as they're not too young and we have parents permission, they can sit in."

"How young is too young?" Loki asked.

"I'd say anything younger than thirteen, but I don't actually know how grown that'd put you as an Asgardian."

"A thirteen year old is around your four," Thor said, who had been sitting remarkably quietly whilst everyone else discussed the matter. Likely, he was on Loki's side with this; Thor himself had started attending battles incredibly early, mostly because he was so eager, though he didn't fight actively until he was made a Captain's Apprentice.

"How old are you usually when you hit puberty?" Bucky pondered.

The Asgardians exchanged a thoughtful glance. "... Anywhere between twenty and thirty?" Loki hedged. "Development is different to that of Midgardians. Children are born far less developed, if possible, than their Earth counterparts. They then grow at about half the speed until they reach pubescence. After which point, development is far, far slower."

"So how long are you a teenager for?"

"In what sense?"

"Rebellion against parents, figuring out the world, having some responsibilities, but not all of them… It wasn't a thing when I was a kid, but apparently it is now. You used to be a kid, then you were an adult, but now there's this in between stage," Steve said. "I think it was Elvis who invented it." Bucky snorted.

"I don't think that we have a 'teenage' either," Thor said. "Once you are granted some luxuries of adulthood, you are generally granted all of them."

Steve looked between them all. "So how old actually are you, compared to us?"

"Me and Thor would probably be considered to be the same age in terms of Midgardian development, but there are around ten years between us. Of course, I don't know my true birthday," Loki said. "I suppose we'd be…?"

"Somewhere around twenty-five?" Thor said thoughtfully. "How old is Wanda?"

"Twenty-two, I think. The sorta age you'd probably have moved out, maybe you'd have a long term partner, or in a couple places you might be about to get married. The general population probably wouldn't have kids, though. Well, not in this day and age."

"Probably closer to that, then," Loki admitted. "I am the only one to have moved out of the Odin household, but Thor would've been married, had he not spent so much of his time at war."

Thor grinned mischievously. "That, and I wasn't ready to stop more pleasurable pursuits."

Loki rolled his eyes and called him beastly under his breath, but smirked a little bit too.

Steve sat back in his chair, surprised. "So what about you, Brunnhilde?"

"How old are you?" she asked Steve.

"I'm thirty-three, in the actual amount of years lived."

"And would thirty-three year olds usually be married with children?"

"I guess." Steve's expression didn't change, per se, but something in his manner became more clipped. It was clear that he wasn't happy in his lack of parenthood; or, perhaps, he was ashamed of it, those old expectations of what his life should be still hanging onto his skin.

"Then yes, I'm probably about that age. Older than these two, for certain, but not old enough to be their mother."

Loki started to say some witty remark when the door to the Muningard swung open and Heimdall rush in, snow dusting his hair and shoulders. The watcher dropped to one knee at the head of the table beside Thor, both hands gripping the hilt of his sword. "Sire, I have news of the Aesir trapped on other worlds."

Thor stood eagerly. "You have been able to contact them?"

"Indeed. I have tried many times and failed until now." Heimdall stood, sheathing the sword at his side. "I spoke with the Lady Sif. They had heard of Asgards destruction and rumours of the Asgardians coming to Midgard."

"They are here?"

"They have entered the solar system and will likely arrive by the end of the snow season."

"We must tell Stark," Loki said. "He can ensure they will not be shot down as we were."

"Can I speak with them?" Thor asked eagerly.

"I'm afraid I cannot take another to communicate."

Loki considered offering his services but a sharp look from Brunnhilde - Don't overexert yourself - stopped him

"Whatever you need to know, however, I can commune with them to discuss whatever is needed."

"Most urgently, we need to know the number of them for readying the settlement. Knowing how much more food to acquire. We should include more houses into the rebuilding plans," Thor said, listing off the suddenly overwhelming list of things that needed to be done. "If you can get a basic census of the people, Loki, I'm putting you in charge of the plans for extending the settlement."

"Of course," he said, bowing, secretly thrilled to be put in charge of operations without so much of a need to convince his brother.

"Captain, will you be able to liaise with Stark? We must ensure we have the resources for more people; cattle, crops, and machinery. Food is the most important thing right now."

Steve nodded. "Yeah. We're okay when it comes to the settlement."

"Good. I'll call a meeting and tell the citizens about what's happening, but we need somebody on the ground, someone the general people would talk to regarding any issues they may have that they do not feel comfortable coming to their king about."

"Eir. She takes care of the farmer's children, not to mention her assistance at the community hall after the battle. They know her." Loki suggested.

"Good," Thor said, the urgent energy halting for a moment. His one blue eye flashed over to Loki, and he smiled, just a little bit, like he was staggered by his own proactivity. Loki felt a jolt of pride for his brother.

Finally, he was beginning to act like the king he was always supposed to be.

###

"Where are you going?" Loki asked Thor a week later when he found him packing a bag in his room.

Thor glanced around at him. "Stark has requested I go with him to speak to the leaders of this country about the new settlers that are coming."

"How long will you be gone for?" He eyed the small bag.

"Stark promised two days at the most. Miss Potts however said likely a few more." Thor turned back to his bag, shoving his clothes within. Loki resisted the urge to snap at him about folding them neatly knowing, Thor would make fun of him if he did.

Hesitantly, Loki asked, "who will be in charge in your absence?"

"Heimdall. I have already informed him."

"I see." Loki stepped further into the room, noticing the mess Thor kept it in. He gingerly stepped over a pair of jeans. "What happened to the royal line?"

"You have not yet been pardoned for your crimes in the eyes of the mortals on this planet." Thor stood to his full height and turned to face Loki. "I want them in my favour and putting you in charge will not help that."

"I only want what is best for this settlement," Loki snapped.

"I know that, brother. But many do not, it is better this way, even just for now. Besides, it is only for a few days."

Loki picked at the skin of his thumb. "And have you given any thought to who would take over should you be gone... permanently?"

Thor chuckled, sitting on his bed and looking up at him easily, probably knowing how sore Loki was over this. "I presume you didn't mean that to sound like a threat."

Loki just glanced at him sharply, with a so what if I did? expression. Thor chuckled, and Loki broke out into a short grin as well.

"I have given it some thought and yet I do not know. You, Heimdall, and myself are the only ones coming from royalty. You are not officially of Asgard, and I fear that if I nominated you, in my absence, the Avengers would just take over regardless of my wishes. Heimdall is my most loyal follower, but he would not fit the role of King. I suspect he would refused if I offered."

"Perhaps Brunnhilde." Loki was as surprised as anybody to hear that suggestion come from his mouth.

"Brother, Brunnhilde is- she could be brilliant, but she is a drunk and-"

"Not any longer."

Thor just shook his head. "I will consider her, but I will have to see more evidence that she is committed to sobriety. With more Aesir returning, perhaps there will be others from the royal line." Off-hand, he continued. "Besides, I plan to have many sons and daughters before that day arrives."

"Now that the dear lady Sif is returning?" Loki teased, smiling knowingly.

Thor tried to laugh it off, but Loki knew he'd hit a point of embarrassment for him. "Sif and I are only friends."

"Mother always said you two would end up together. She was usually correct in such matters," He mused, ignoring Thor. Thor threw a scrunched up shirt at Loki, who dodged it easily, laughing. "I will ensure to create a matching throne besides yours with her name etched upon it, in time for her arrival, of course."

"I won't hesitate to fight you, brother." There was no heat behind it - Thor was trying desperately to keep a straight face, in fact.

"Much to my disappointment," Loki shot back.

"Oh, you want to fight now?" Thor stood up.

"I would never fight the King!" Loki said with an overdramatic bow, complete with little hand flourishes. "My liege, 'tis my honour to even be threatened by you!"

Before Loki could surface from the bow, Thor grabbed Loki and pulled him into a hold. Loki yelped and began to struggle, laughing breathlessly. "Not so tough now, hmm?"

Loki swiper under Thor's feet and used his own weight against him to topple them both onto the ground. Thor let go with an oomph sound, but immediately rolled and plonked himself down onto Loki's chest, side-saddle.

"Oh Norns," Loki wheezed, tipping his head back, "what have you been eating?"

"Little princes," Thor said with a grin.

"I am not little!"

"Who said I was talking about you?"

"How many runts do you have running around, unbeknownst to us all?" Loki asked, struggling to shove Thor off.

Thor shrugged casually. "More than you, that's for sure."

Loki stopped his efforts to laugh. "If having illegitimate offspring is a point of pride for you, you may want to reevaluate."

"Says the man currently being sat on."

"Umm," said a voice at the doorway. It was Stark, who had a utterly confused look on his face. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Democracy," Thor said, getting up. Loki sucked in a massive breath, almost choking on it. "Are we departing soon?"

"Yeah, the quinjet's ready," Stark said distractedly.

"Are you alright, friend? You seem off," Thor said cheerfully, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I just didn't think I'd see a fully grown man sitting on the chest of another fully grown man."

"You must live a very boring life," Loki said, standing up and brushing himself off.

Stark moaned. "God, why do you have to make everything dirty? I'm trying to live my best life over here."

"I thought you enjoyed dirty, Stark," Loki said innocently.

"Brother, cease this." Thor said, without any conviction. "Or I shall tell Stark your old nickname."

"Please don't," Loki said hurriedly. "I would rather give up any and all stake to the throne than Stark know that."

"Then you'd better be quiet then." Thor's grin faded into a warm smile. "I'll be back soon. Try not to destroy this place in my absence."

"I'll try."

"It is the best we can hope for," Thor told Stark. "Lead the way."

"Oh, brother?" Loki called after them.

Thor turned around. "Yes?"

Loki swallowed. "Good luck."

Thor nodded after a moment, understanding. It wasn't just a good luck, but it was an acknowledgment; Loki telling Thor that all was well, even if he couldn't have the throne. "Thank you."

With that, they both left.

###

Finally, as Heimdall had said, they had word of the arrival of the Asgardians a month later as the snow was finally beginning to melt.

The mothership was much too big to land anywhere other than the sea or the desert, so the Aesir came down in smaller shuttles. They landed in a clearing beside the settlement and were taken straight to the community hall in order to organise them. A few were reunited with their surviving families, but a saddening number had no one come and claim the young soldiers. Loki vowed to ask Wilson about what could be done for them; he was always going on about support systems and such. It would be difficult to house them all, and a good many would be in the communal house, which had been nicknamed the Barracks.

He noticed Stark stood nearby basically shaking from his excitement. He'd been hankering to get a look at a real life working spaceship, chatting non-stop about it for days prior and asking Loki all sorts of questions that ranged between what every self-respecting Asgardian knew to complex engineering queries that Loki had only a vague answer for. The ship they had travelled in had been in barely workable condition during their travels, making it easy to be shot down by Stark Industries. In the end, it was barely salvageable to Stark's extreme disappointment; however, while it wouldn't fly again, the technology was certainly studiable.

Loki watched as Sif exited the last shuttle and saw Thor forgo his duties to run to her, hugging her tightly and spinning her in the air. Sif let out a rarely heard giddy laugh as they held each other.

"Thor." She greeted, barely concealing her excitement in one word.

"It is very good to see you, Lady Sif." Thor pulled back to look at her, his smile large and more genuine. "When Heimdall said you were alive, I could barely believe it."

"I could say the same. When we heard of Asgards destruction we believed everybody gone. Who else survived?"

Thor looked to the ground. "Loki, Heimdall. Many others whom I do not know if you know."

"And the Warriors Three?"

Thor looked to the ground, shameful. "They died great heroes attempting to take down Hela." Sif closed her eyes, a heavy but unsurprised sigh escaping her. It seemed she had prepared for the worst.

"How did you hear of our survival?" Loki interjected, stepping towards them. He had long gotten over whatever grief he had for the three's deaths; he missed them because he missed all of old Asgard, and they were woven into his memories of the place. Them, as individual people, he did not spare much thought for.

Sif turned to him, eyebrow raised. "I thought you were dead." He pushed away the irritation at the disappointment in her tone.

"I faked my death."

"And pretended to be our father for some time before I returned," Thor added.

"Yes. Well." Loki cleared his throat.

"Heimdall told us some of what happened. I'm sorry for your loss," Sif said.

"Thank you."

"In answer to your question, Loki, we heard rumours the Tesseract was on Midgard." The cold feeling of dread spread through him faster than a Jotun attack. He barely hid his panic as Thor looked steadily at him. "Last I heard it was in the vault back on Asgard, so it wasn't a large jump to presume that some of the Aesir came to Midgard and had taken it with them. After much discussion, it was decided to come here and perhaps find you, or at least some answers."

"Who told you the Tesseract was on Earth?" Thor asked, his voice urgent and dangerous. Loki tried to keep his features neutral but knew Thor had already guessed.

"Somebody called Nebula. She's hunting Thanos, who is hunting the Infinity Stones. How Thanos knows, I know not. It was just a rumor, but it was the best we had to go on." Sif frowned as she realised there was something going on. "Did you not know it was here?"

"I did not. Loki, did you?" Thor asked sweetly.

"I did not." Loki lied smoothly but knew Thor didn't believe him for a moment. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to bolt but that would just affirm his guilt.

Loki gasped as Thor grabbed him by his throat and pushed him into one of the shuttles, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the civilians. He held back a noise of pain as Thor slammed him against a wall, besides where Stark was poking his head into a mess of wires and circuits. "Out," Thor ordered, not taking his furious eye off Loki's.

"Lara Croft, if there's any CCTV in here, please show me later." Stark winked at the confused Sif before promptly hightailing it out of there.

"The Tesseract. Where is it?" Thor demanded.

"I told you, I d-" Loki gasped in a breath as Thor's hand tightened.

"Bullshit. You went into the vault. Where is it?"

Thor's anger was making his hand spark, little jolts of static electricity flashing through Loki's body. Chaos was all fun and games until it was absolutely fucking terrible. Loki wanted to lie, but what could he say? That he saw it and didn't take it? Thor knew him better than that.

"In my pocket," he gasped between breaths. Thor loosened his hand and eyed Loki's leather trousers with a frown. "No. The interdimensional one."

Thor released him fully and looked at him expectantly. With a heavy sigh, Loki reached into the pocket and found the Tesseract, holding it out for Thor to see. Sif let out a small gasp as it's eerie blue glow filled the small shuttle entrance.

"And you wonder why nobody trusts you," Thor hissed, taking a cloth from his pocket and lifting the Tesseract from him. Loki winced, but he knew he deserved it. "Why did you not tell us?"

Loki thought through his different options for an answer, finally settling on a half truth. "The mortals like to play with things they do not understand. I spoke with Natasha regarding Ultron. They were lucky with Vision. If they had the Tesseract, however, who knows what they would do. They could open a portal to Hel itself without meaning to; its energy source is unlimited, and deadly in the uninformed hands of Midgardians."

Thor considered Loki's answer. "And you did not tell me on the ship. Why?"

"I believed you would inform your Avengers the moment we arrived."

"Do not lie to me."

He held Thors gaze for a few more moments, searching for another lie to tell him, but nothing decent came. "It is my escape. Should it be needed," he admitted quietly, "I would be able to use it to teleport interdimensionally."

"And why would you need that, Loki?" Thor sounded hurt.

"If I was removed from Nyrlif I wanted to be able to have my freedom, rather than being stuck on Midgard for the next thousand years. I knew if I told anybody it would be taken from me."

"And you expected to be kicked out?" Despite the many times they'd spoken, even on that hill in England, Thor still didn't understand.

"Yes." Loki sat down on one of the chairs with a heavy sigh. "Say I angered the Avengers, or they decided I was too much of a threat - they could bar me, and I wouldn't have much say in it."

"I would not let that happen."

"You may not have a choice. If it were say… me, or the settlement?" Thor was silent for a few moments too long, giving Loki his answer. "Besides, I included you when I said the Avengers."

"This could have helped us find the others much sooner," Thor spoke much quieter than before, no longer as angry at Loki.

"Perhaps. I did search some when I was away and I did not find any hint of them at any of the nearest military posts. Locals said they had been gone for weeks. Perhaps they had already caught wind of Asgard's destruction whilst we were travelling over and defected, left, or, like Sif, were already attempting to travel back."

"When you were away?"

"When we first arrived on Midgard, when I left for a month or so," Loki said, watching as Thor's expression grew more and more grave. "I was not travelling this realm. I left to acquire the items I would need for Friggahof. I was not lying in the respect that I do occasionally hoard items in my pocket, but I still needed particular items for that building."

Thor sat down too, heavily. Loki hated the look of weariness that he'd caused on Thor's face. "You lied to me Loki. I believed I could trust you," he whispered.

"I did but you can. You cannot, however, trust the mortals with that."

"Loki-"

"When I first came through to this realm, they were running tests on it, ripping unstable doors across Yggdrasil. And Stark, he says he may have learnt his lesson from Ultron, but do you really want to test that theory with something as powerful as the Tesseract?"

Thor considered his words. "I will give it some thought."

"It is safer within my pocket than anywhere in Nyrlif," Loki said after a moment.

Thor gave him a dark look. "No. I am keeping it and if I find you've taken it without my knowledge again…" Loki waited with baited breath on his verdict. Thor just sighed heavily, so clearly disappointed that it made his heart ache. "Just… don't." Thor wrapped up the tesseract in the cloth. "I must continue my duties. I'm sorry you had to see that, Lady Sif."

"Wouldn't be the first time," she said.

Thor stalked from the shuttle, followed closely by Sif. Loki rubbed his neck and leant back against the cold wall, feeling terrible. Though he wasn't sure when, exactly, he'd planned to tell Thor he had it, he'd still much rather have done it on his own terms. He wanted to talk to Brunnhilde, but she was too busy reacquainting herself with a soldier who'd left the Valkyrior before the Hela massacre and joined the general forces. He didn't want to interrupt, but he desperately needed a distraction.

Tonight, there would be likely a celebration, and that would be enough, though he was hesitant to attend given the fight that just happened. Sighing, he stood up, straightened out his clothes, pushed down the miserable swell of shame, and begun to walk to his room so he could be pitiful in peace. One step forward, two steps back.

###

Loki slunk into the celebration of the arrival of the Asgardians about an hour after it'd started. He hadn't eaten since that morning, so as he went, he grabbed a loaf of bread and tried to look out for Thor so he could avoid him. Eventually, he spotted his brother in deep conversation with Sif, so Loki rolled his eyes and considered Thor good and distracted for the time being.

Next on his list as Brunnhilde, which took more time. Searching through the hall whilst digging into the bread, he eventually widened his search and found her throwing up in the bathroom attached to the back areas of the hall, where only those tasked with cooking and cleaning tonight would be. He leaned against the wall as she retched into the toilet, and then cleared his throat.

"Occupied," she said, spitting out some bile.

"I can see that."

"Loki?" She said, spinning around quickly, the motion making her eyes squeeze shut in nausea. "Fuck, if it isn't everyone's favourite fucking douchebag."

"You're drunk," he said, his heart sinking for her. Sobriety wasn't going to be easy, but he didn't think she'd be this bad so early on. She was worse than he'd ever seen her; it was startling obvious now why she'd made the choice to quit. He ripped the last bit of bread in half, chewing on one bit, and handing the other to Brunnhilde.

"You're a douchebag."

Loki crouched and pulled her hair back from her sweaty face, grimacing. "Are you done yet?"

She leaned into his palm and her eyes shuttered closed. "I'm so fucking done, Loki. I'm done. I want out."

He sighed, wishing he were better at this. "Too bad," he said, hoisting her to her unsteady feet. "Rinse your mouth out."

She did so with an incredulous air, like Loki should be pleased she was obeying, because she thought it was stupid. "When does it stop?" she groaned.

"What stop?" He grabbed some paper towels and wiped her mouth and face. Luckily, she'd avoided any on her clothes or hair. She petulantly chewed on the bread he handed her.

"It," she insisted, mumbling.

"You're not making any sense."

"Well, fuck, Loki, we can't all be fucking… educated since birth to be so fucking ar-tic-u-late," she spat, drawing out the syllables.

Loki was, suffice to say, confused. "What are you angry at me for? I haven't done anything. Let's go. We can get some food on the way out."

"I don't want any food."

"Well, I do," he said, dragging her out. She tried to walk in a straight line, but was swaying too heavily, and stumbled into multiple people. He picked up some bread, meats, and a mostly full plate of strange Migardian savory pastries that Thor always insisted they had at gatherings, to ensure the Avengers had something they liked.

Balancing that and Brunnhilde, he eventually got them outside, where it was snowing. She stumbled and fell into the soft, newly settled snow. She lay there for a good moment. "Are you mad at me?" she asked miserably.

"No," Loki said. "I'm just surprised."

She huffed a laugh. "I'm not. I don't think being s… being sober suits me."

"I think it does," he said, crouching down next to her. "Are you going to attempt to stand, or shall I leave you here?"

She lay there for a long moment, her eyes soft and unfocused. "I'm angry at you because if you'd told me you had the Tesseract, we could've gotten out of this shithole," she said. "Could of gone back to Sakkar."

Loki sighed and sat cross legged next to her, creating a simple spell to keep the snow off both of them and the food, which he began to pick at. His hands were turning blue, but in the darkness illuminated only by the soft lifts of the community hall, they seemed almost black, as if they had frostbite.

"You don't miss Sakkar that much," he said. Surly she didn't? The idea that she hated Nyrlif with such venom was a very sad one; he hadn't thought she disliked it to this extent.

"I miss having a place, something to do. The freedom, the parades, the scale of it. Getting lost in the big city," she mumbled, slurring.

"There are big cities in Midgard. You could go there."

She groaned and shook her head, the movement over exaggerated. She didn't say anything for a long while, then huffed out a laugh. "I'm so drunk, Loki."

"I know."

"I don't think you do."

"No, I think I do."

"I don't think I've been this drunk since we got here."

They were interrupted by a shout from the darkness. "Hey! Are you two alright?" It was Banner, who had returned not long ago from… wherever it was that Banner went when not on Avengers business to assist with the new buildings.

"She's drunk," Loki said.

"I thought she was quitting?" Banner called back, emerging from the dark into the light from the hall.

"So did I," Loki said through gritted teeth. Brunnhilde just groaned again.

"Has she thrown up?"

"Yes."

"Good, you don't want her getting alcohol poisoning. You gotta get her outta the snow, though."

"She's an adult. I can't drag her everywhere," Loki replied testily.

Banner looked liked he disagreed, but didn't want to start an argument. "Sure, but she needs your help."

"I don't need his help," she slurred.

"She doesn't need my help," Loki said, gesturing to Brunnhilde, who was busy organising her limbs to curl up in the fetal position. "Besides, I wouldn't know how to help with this. Alcoholism is not heard of on Asgard."

Banner sighed. "You're her best friend, Loki. You can't just leave her here because you don't know how to help."

Loki snapped his gaze up to him. "Well, what do you suggest we do?"

"Get her back to her house. Give her some water. Have you never had to help Thor after a bender?"

"The Warriors Three would usually help Thor if he was so intoxicated he could not care for himself. He didn't want help from his little brother. He thought it embarrassing."

"Jesus Christ," Banner said, rubbing his temples with one hand. "Alright, I'll help you. C'mon, let's go."

"If you take the food, I'll carry her."

"Food? What-" He then saw the platter at Loki's side. "Why do you have a plate of sausage rolls?"

"I'm hungry."

Banner sighed again and picked up everything on the floor. Loki rolled Brunnhilde onto her back, then lifted her, bridal style, worried that over-the-shoulder would jolt her stomach too much.

"If you're about to throw up, warn me," Loki muttered.

"Will do," she mumbled back, clearly about to pass out.

"Don't fall asleep."

"I won't," she promised sleepily.

In silence, they made their way back to Brunnhilde's house, the slightly settled snow crunching underfoot. It became increasingly difficult to see once they left the high street, and though Banner's cell phone had a torch on it, it was fairly measly compared to the darkness that pushed in from all sides. Loki had better vision than Banner, so he would occasionally call out if there was a large tree root in his path.

They reached Brunnhilde's house unscathed. Banner shoved the door open into the chilly home, and set about turning on the lights. Loki pushed his way into Brunnhilde's bedroom and set her down on the bed, then manipulated her so that she was under the covers. Banner poked his head in.

"Are you not going to take off her boots?"

"She's probably slept in full battle armour in a tent in the middle of hostile territory before," Loki said, waving a hand dismissively. "She'll be fine."

Banner shrugged and held out a glass of water. "Is she awake to drink this?"

Loki gave her a little shove. She had passed out, and barely responded. "No."

Banner set the water on the bedside table, then stared at Brunnhilde critically for a moment. He then pushed the blankets off her and grabbed her leg. Loki snapped his hand onto Banner's wrist in alarm.

"What are you doing?" He hissed.

"Putting her in the recovery position?" Banner said, suddenly terrified. "I'm not going to hurt her."

Loki stared at him for a moment longer, then released his arm. "Proceed."

Banner did after a moment's hesitation. He gingerly arranged her body so it was on it's side with her head supported, then returning the covers over her. "It's so that if she throws up in her sleep, she won't choke on it."

"I know," Loki said cattishly. They did have something like the recovery position on Asgard, though it was so rarely practiced by civilians outside of a medical setting that he didn't recognise it; too much time amongst barbaric soldiers had put him on high alert when a woman was essentially helpless. What had seemed like a merely unsavoury thing to do had suddenly taken on a whole new life when he as much time as he did living as a woman. He strode out of the room and back into Brunnhilde's living room, sat down on the sofa, and began to gnaw away at the food, irritated that they hadn't fully survived the journey back dry. Still, it wasn't bad - better than starving, for sure.

Banner came back through and crashed down onto the armchair, rubbing his face tiredly. After a long moment where he just stared into space, Loki grew tired of the moping silence.

"Gold for your thoughts," he said through a mouthful.

Banner made a tired little noise, and it occurred to Loki that he didn't really know all that much about Banner; yes, he had the Hulk, and yes, he was a multidisciplinary scientist, but he didn't really know much about anything beyond that. He realised he knew much more about Stark, Barton, Steve and Bucky's personal lives and histories than he did Banner's, which was odd, given how much time they had spent together on the ship.

"Just tired," Banner said. "Preparations for all these new Asgardians has me beat."

Loki chewed slowly, then swallowed. "You don't have to help, if you don't want to."

"I think it comes under my purview as an Avenger," Banner said. "Besides, Tony would never speak to me again if I turned my back on you all."

"Are you and Stark close, then?"

Banner shrugged. "I… guess? We spend a lot of time in the lab together, and everyone with repeat exposure to Tony becomes his friend eventually. He kinda just makes the assumption of friendship and works from there."

"It is most irritating."

He laughed. "Yeah, I thought that too, when I first met him. I don't usually like overly friendly people because it's like, fake, right? Machiavellian, I guess. But Tony is just… friendly. Overly so."

"Odd," Loki said, "given how artificial he can seem at times."

"That's most people though, isn't it? I mean, you're not here telling me everything that makes you imperfect, because no one does that. People are just kind of fake," Banner said. "I don't like it. People pretend not to be scared of the Hulk, but I can see it so transparently. It's actually why I liked Tony initially. He doesn't pretend to not be scared, and he prepares for the eventuality that I might Hulk out, rather than pretending it's all okay." Banner then shrugged in that harmless, nonchalaunt way that he did. "Anyways, I don't like to gossip."

"How admirable," Loki replied. "Well, go on then."

"What?"

Loki settled back in his chair with an eyebrow raised and his hands in an open gesture. "What makes you imperfect? If you have so much disdain for it."

He knew it was an unfair question, but couldn't the God of Mischief make people squirm a little every once in a while?

Banner looked surprised, then confused. "I've never been asked that before."

"I'm sure there's a lot of things you've never been asked."

"True." Banner took off his glasses and cleaned them with the hem of his t-shirt, which was an action reminiscent of one of the scholars who'd aided in Loki's magical education. Loki had hated him. "I guess the Hulk. Some would say it makes me a monster."

"Some would say I am a monster for being Jotun inside, and not my other… less than savoury actions. Is a defect of biology true imperfection?" Loki asked hesitantly, those seeds sewn so long ago by Natasha suddenly coming into life and clarity, gentle roots carving their own little space.

"Well, no," Banner replied, "but what if the defect influences your actions? What's to blame?"

"Are your actions influenced by the Hulk?"

"How could they not be? Everything I do is to stop the Hulk, or make sure he only gets out at the most opportune moments. I struggle in crowds, I struggle when I'm exercising. I can't be in a relationship, either. I mean, the person you marry is already the most likely to kill you, so I don't really wanna make those odds worse." Banner suddenly startled himself out of his rant, sighed, and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry."

"The person you marry is most likely to kill you?"

"Yeah. Most people who are murdered are murdered by their spouses. Or, at least, that's what Natasha told me."

"Oh. I had not heard that before," Loki admitted. "It is probably not true on Asgard."

"Who is most likely to kill you on Asgard?"

"The enemy."

Banner laughed and conceded. "Stupid question."

Loki grinned toothily for a moment. "Indeed," he said. "Going backwards, you say that your actions are influenced by, essentially, not letting the Hulk to rampage. Surely those actions aren't imperfections."

"I guess it depends on what you mean by imperfection, then. It's not an imperfection in your character, but it is a defect on how you would live your true life, if you'd live it differently if you didn't have the biological fault."

"I supposed rather an imperfection in character," Loki replied thoughtfully, "but then they are interlinked, are they not? Is one not living one's true life not also a flaw?"

"See, I don't really think such a thing exists as a true life, not really. I don't believe in fate, or anything like that."

"That is where we differ, then."

Banner looked shocked. "I'm surprised you do."

"Most Asgardians would," Loki said. "The Norns weave the threads of destiny into the tapestry of life. But fate is not fixed; it is fluid and ever-changing, particularly on their will."

"Then, still, there's no such thing as a 'true' life, if it can change."

Loki hadn't thought of it like that before. He did see the logic in the argument, but it left him feeling odd - where did it place him, exactly, if there was no place he was supposed to be? Before it had been at Thor's side, but it became more and more evident that they as a unit were dysfunctional. Then it had been by the side of Sigyn, but that was ripped away from him. And then it was on a throne, but that too had been taken. Later, after the fall, it was by Thanos' side, but that was just mind-bending falsities.

The only place left was Nyrlif, but being Jotun, he wasn't truly Asgardian. Thor and Heimdall enjoyed the idea that Asgard was a people, not a place, but if he wasn't one of the people, and he wasn't from the place, then surely he just… wasn't?

"Maybe," Loki said slowly, "the true life is just the one in which you are happiest."

Banner broke out into a smile. "Yeah, I like that," Bruce said. "The one where you're happiest."

###

The next morning, Loki flipped a knife over in his blue Jotun hand as he lay on Brunnhilde's sofa. It was getting easier - almost too easy - to exist in this state. Bruce had left shortly after their philosophical debate came to an end, after Loki had cajoled him to go home and sleep after one particularly enormous yawn.

Brunnhilde's hands shook as they held a Midgardian book entitled A Clash of Kings because she was going through "withdrawals". Loki knew those - it was a tactic of Thanos to make him swallow poison that gave him pleasure beyond reality, then make him sit and shiver alone in a cell as it wore off, unless he begged for more. Plus, some of the various substances he had taken through the years didn't have pleasant comedowns. She was worse for wear this morning, but had woken with that fierce look that meant she didn't want to talk about it.

"Brunnhilde?"

"Yes, dear?"

He wrinkled his nose. "Dear?"

"You basically live here. I'm considering making you my house husband."

"Do I get a say in this?"

"Hmm," she hummed thoughtfully, flipping a page. "No. The mop and bucket is in the store cupboard."

He sat up. "You have a mop and bucket?"

She glanced over at him distastefully. "Yes, Loki, because I'm not a fucking barbarian. What did you want?"

"I forgot."

"Liar," she said easily, sing-song.

He sighed and thought best how to phrase his question. "If you could go back and not meet Arnnbjörga, would you?"

She put her book down slowly. "Why?"

Loki shrugged. "Why not?"

She chewed on that for a few moments. "She was the best thing that ever happened to me. I can't just turn back on that because she inadvertently caused me pain later."

"But does the pain later not outweigh the pleasure of knowing her?"

"I don't know," Brunnhilde said slowly. "I don't know. Maybe. If I never met her, I wouldn't have become a Captain, and my work was the best I've ever had too."

"But then compared to losing it..."

She sighed and sat up properly herself from where she had been slouching. "I wish I could drink right now," she said quietly, her expression tight and pained.

"I'm sorry," Loki said truthfully.

"Don't apologise. It's basically a constant state for me."

"All the same," Loki replied.

Brunnhilde glanced at him, side-eying. "Would you not meet Sigyn?"

He sighed. "Bruce told me yesterday that the person you marry is the person most likely to kill you. If I hadn't met Sigyn, he might still be alive."

"He might be dead, too."

"All the same," he whispered.

Brunnhilde stood up, placed a hand over his hair gently. "You shouldn't blame yourself. It was Odin's fault."

Loki nodded, looking down. She slipped away to the kitchen. "Could you get me a drink?"

"Go fuck yourself, pal," she replied easily.

He grinned, still feeling caught up in his thoughts, and stood up. "I swear I do everything around this house."

###

He left Brunnhilde's at nightfall, hoping it was late enough he wouldn't see Thor, who would generally retire early, a habit from early calls for drills; Loki, on the other hand, was far more the night-owl.

What he hadn't counted on - quite understandably - was to find Sif reading one of his books on magic whilst lounging about on his bed. He had the wry thought that his adolescent self would've probably had a fit at the scene, but anger quelled any amusement he may have felt when he guessed why she was there.

"Has Thor sent you to see if I'm hiding anything else?" He asked, trying not to sound overly bitter in case he was wrong.

Sif glanced at him. "No. I was bored waiting for you. I half thought you were going to spend the night at Brunnhilde's," she said meaningfully.

Loki snorted. "Then to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You didn't come to the party yesterday."

"I did briefly, actually, but I had other urgent business to attend to. If I had known you would be so disappointed I would have made my presence known." He grabbed her booted feet and took them off his bedsheets.

Sif rolled her eyes, looking unimpressed. "Norns, no. I just wanted to let you know something we heard during our journey back." Loki lifted an eyebrow in question. "There's a young man looking for you on Vanaheim. Vali was his name."

And then it felt as though the air was sucked from the room as a million questions suddenly burst forward. Surely it wasn't possible that Vali was alive - and looking for him? How could he have survived? How could he have turned back into the child he was? Or was he still the creature that killed-

He pushed that thought away as he tried to concentrate on what Sif was saying, but he couldn't hear her through the roaring in his ears. He couldn't make sense of the storm of his emotions; if he was happy, angry, sad, relieved, frightened. It was a terrifying amalgamation.

"-you alright?" She was standing up now and was reaching out tentatively. She pulled him to the bed to sit when he turned his wide eyes to her, his head light and dizzy. "Breathe, Loki. Would you like me to wake Thor?"

Loki shook his head, trying desperately to focus. He stared down at his hands, currently Aesir and pale. The hands of a person. "Vali is looking for me?"

"Yes." Sif sat down beside him. "Well, he said Loki of Asgard and he seemed to think you were a woman; I know you certainly used to play with sex-changing tricks, so I assumed he meant you, given Loki is a man's name. At the time I thought you dead, so I told him as much."

"Was he well? Healthy? Was he alone?"

"Yes - he was wiry, but not emancipated. Had good colour." Loki sighed in relief. He was alive and well. "Who is he, Loki?"

But where in all the Nine was Narfi? His head spun again and pressed his hands into his eyes. She sighed sadly, softly, and made a comforting noise.

He looked at her and for a moment he was reminded why he had fancied her so as a child; why he had envied Thor and her and their more natural bond. She had always seen him with a degree of melancholy; when the other Warriors had been vile, she was always more mature, even when he wasn't back. It was only after Odin's terrible lie-telling that she had begun to drift apart from him, spending far more of her time in Thor's company alone rather than with both of them together.

He shook his head. It was all too much. "Thank you for telling me about this, Sif," he said sincerely. It would've been all too easy to dismiss it or forget.

She seemed to sense the dismissal and stood. "Goodnight Loki. And… I hope it works out."

"Goodnight," he said to the closed door. He knew he wouldn't sleep, if he even tried the images of his last day on Vanaheim would surely plague his dreams.

Vali was alive, but now would believe his mother - father? - to be dead. Now Thor had the Tesseract he has no way to even find him. But did he want to? What would he think of him once he knew the truth of who- of what he is? And what of Narfi? Was he dead? That did not bare thinking about.

His foot bounced against the ground restlessly. He suddenly jumped up and left his room before the anxious energy destroyed it again. Shortly, he found himself in front of Lake Semerwater where he dropped to the ground, feet tucked under him. The ice that had gripped lake during the battle and then the winter had finally begun to thaw and the waves were once again gently lapping against the shore.

He had always found a home next to large bodies of water because he loved them for their potential for havoc. As some thought the sea to be reliable, he knew how dangerous it was. He had seen the destruction a tsunami had caused during his travels when he was young and so cock-sure and arrogent. From a distance, he'd watched as an unstoppable wave had pushed through a village as though it were nothing and brought down the forest around them. Trees, sure and strong, hundreds of years old, had dropped at this single great wave.

Utter chaos. Life-ruining, terrible, unpredictable, beautiful chaos, because destruction was not the end, but the beginning. Equilibriums were made to be destroyed. Of course when he found his, such devastating news would come.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there for, before he heard soft footsteps south-west of him. They were too soft to be Thor, too loud to be Brunnhilde or Sif. He turned to see Ylva standing at the tree line, staring at him, looking surprised and terrified in equal measure.

"It's not safe to be out here on your own at this hour," he called out to her.

"You are."

"I am an adult, and I'm extremely powerful."

"Well, I'm powerful," she shot back. "Besides, you're here, so I'm not alone." She forwards and sat down beside him.

"And you knew I was here?" he asked, amused.

She hesitated, then shook her head. "No."

"Does your mother know you are here?" She shook her head again, eyes downcast. Despite being under Steve's requirement of give-or-take '13' years old, she still came to some of the militia meets, insisting that because she had been in the battle with the Jotnar she should be allowed. She spent so much of her time trying to be seen as older than she was, but as she sat, hugging her knees to her chest and shivering against the cold, he realised anew how young she really was.

He cast a warming spell around them both and she relaxed a fraction, inching closer to him. "Why are you here so late, alone?" She shrugged. "Ylva, you know it is rude not to answer a question you are asked. Especially to your Prince."

"I forget you're the Prince sometimes," she muttered. "Both you and King Thor. You're both too nice. Ma taught me if I were ever to see the Allfather I should bow and act like a proper lady, but at the start I was playing with some friends and saw Thor so I tried to act like a proper lady but he just laughed and asked me about the game we were playing. He even wanted to join in," she said scornfully. "I usually remember to bow, but I'm supposed to bow to you, and you're more like a teacher or a friend. I don't bow to my friends. That would be weird."

Loki just stared, not quite sure how to respond to that. "Well, if I your friend, then perhaps you should tell me why you are out here?"

"Monster hunting."

"... Ylva.

She didn't answer immediately, but he could see she was thinking about it. After giving her a few moments to turn it over in her head, she finally whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear, "I had a nightmare."

Oh.

"I hear that it is good to talk about your nightmares," he offered, knowing full well he sounded as unsure of himself as he actually was.

"Do you?"

He went to deny having nightmares, but then stopped himself. She shouldn't think of her elders as infallible; it was how he got into that mess with Odin. "I used to speak to my mother, or sometimes Thor. As I got older, I stopped talking of them," he admitted. "But I was wrong to."

"Do you still have nightmares?" She asked, her eyes wide.

"Sometimes."

"What are they about?"

Loki sighed and bit the inside of his cheek. "I could not tell you 'til you were older, Ylva. They are not light subjects."

"I've seen battle," she argued. "I can handle it."

"Battle is naught compared to the rest of the universe and other misfortunes that can fall in one's life. I do not wish to scare you," he assured her, "but there are fears that only come about when you are an adult. Then you will understand."

She sighed heavily, like she was far older than her actual years. "Pa always used to say I didn't understand anything."

Oh, good, they were onto daddy issues. Where on Earth was Stark when you needed him?

"He was wrong to say that," Loki offered, feeling as though he was toeing onto increasingly thinning ice. "I hope you don't take offence to this, but I have heard that your father was not a nice man."

"I never thought he was too bad, really, until I realised that you were better."

He jerked his head, taken aback. "Ylva, I am not your father," he said firmly.

"I know," she said sadly. "I do. I just sometimes think about…" She paused, struggling to articulate her feelings. "About how it could've been."

"The grass is always greener," he reminded her. "I'm sure you would've had your qualms with me had I been your father."

She did laugh at that. "Probably. But I don't think you would've been mean."

"No," Loki said quietly. "I don't think I would've been, either."

"But then I suppose you never know, do you?" Ylva postulated. "Ma never would've married pa if she'd known that he was going to be so mean later. Some people are only really nasty when you really get to know them."

"I suppose no one would like you if you were mean up front," Loki agreed.

She shrugged. "It's not just meanness, though. Some people are only funny or kind when you get to know them. Like you."

"Ylva…"

"I know, I know," she muttered.

"I don't want to upset you, but it's not…" How could you explain the idea of boundaries to a child? "It's not good to wallow too much on thoughts such as these. I can be your teacher - in fact, it's my honour - but I cannot be your father."

"I don't want you to be my father. I just want someone like you to be… there," she said frustratedly, clearly struggling to say what she meant. He understood, though. He had felt the same way about Odin; he wasn't sure who he wanted, but sometimes, Odin's sparse love to him next to the black hole that was Thor just wasn't enough. But any father he wanted, Odin already was - he was a scholar, a seiðrmann, an intellect. Therefore, his younger self concluded, the issue was with him, not his father, whose only fault was not loving him enough. Hardily a crime.

"Have you spoken to your mother about this?"

She shook her head. "I don't want her to feel bad."

"Yes, I'm unsure how you could bring it up. It is a very difficult subject. However," he said, "that is not a reason to talk about the nightmares."

Ylva went through a storm of emotions before settling on frustration. "I thought you'd forget."

"There is no tricking the Trickster God."

"How did you get that title, anyways?" Loki just sent her a sharp glance. Stop stalling. "Fine. I don't remember it all now."

"Then I will hear whatever parts you know."

After a beat, very hesitantly, very softly, she began. "I dream of Bylister returning. He's angry at me for helping you, and he sometimes he attacks me with those ice spike things. He chases me. Sometimes he kills you instead, and I can't look away. At one point during the fight - the real fight - Hawkeye jumped in front of me so I didn't get burned, but in my dream he doesn't and I get hurt really badly."

Once she started, she seemed unstoppable. How strange, to compare this Ylva to the one not even a year a go. She carried on, relentless, though she was shaking violently, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "In one dream, I was dragged through the portal with Bylister. There were so many of the Ice Giants, and they were crowding me and s- shouting. Sometimes they're all here, in Nyrlif, and we're losing the fight and the portal won't c- close-" she cut herself off with a sob and lunged at him, pushing her head into his chest. His arm automatically curled around her as he tried to process everything she'd just said.

"Have you been having these since the battle?"

"Yes," she murmured.

"Does your mother know - at all?"

"No."

A few months and she hadn't told anybody. His arm tightened around her. "Why have you not told her, Ylva?" he asked softly, hoping she didn't think he was angry at her.

"Didn't want her to worry."

"She won't worry. Not like she would over the father business." She mumbled something but had her face pushed into his chest so he couldn't hear. "Please repeat that so I can hear you."

She moved back so he could hear. "If people knew I was scared then they wouldn't let me come to the meets."

He wanted to kick himself for not seeing this. The past few months she had been insisting on coming to the meets, having more lessons with him and the other seiðr users. She'd been one of the most dedicated apprentices he'd ever been witness to, asides perhaps himself. He hadn't even thought to wonder why.

He gently pushed her away in order to make eye contact. "Ylva, I'm going to let you in on a secret. You can keep a secret, correct?" She nodded. "We're all scared sometimes. During that fight I was terrified, and I would bet anything that the Avengers were too."

"Really?"

"Really. Only fools aren't afraid of anything. And fear is good, it pushes you harder, allows you to run faster, fight harder. Your seiðr will rarely be as powerful as it is during those moments." He paused, allowing the words to sink in before carrying on. "I will not lie to you; Bylister is still out there. Should he ever dare to return, he will regret it 'til the end of his suddenly very short life." He sighed. "You shouldn't have been at the battle, regardless. It was irresponsible of whoever let you."

"I ran past ma before she could stop me. Hawkeye tried to tell me to go back, but I ignored him and promised to stay out of harm's way. I did break that promise," she admitted sheepishly, "but he wasn't mad, because he said I did good."

"And you said he stopped you from being burned?"

"Yeah." Loki made a mental note to thank Barton. He pulled her close to him again as she asked, "so why are you out here?"

He smiled grimly and looked back out towards the lake. "I was given some news I did not expect and needed to order my thoughts."

"Oh. Can I help at all?"

"No, but thank you," he said tiredly. "You should go back to bed."

"I don't want to," she said petulantly.

He looked back down at her, deciding he could use the company. "Then sleep here. I will keep you safe tonight."

She nodded, looking openly thankful, and he instructed her to conjure some blankets, mostly to use as a mat to protect her from the rocky beach. She did so - with a little help from him - then lay down with her head in his lap.

He lay his hand gently over her hair, and turned to look over the lake. A few lights could be seen on the other side, and he wondered what, or who, they were. Though his discussion with Ylva had been a good distraction, with her asleep, his tumultuous thoughts turned back to the useless feedback they had been before she came. Despite this, he was all the calmer for having her there, a comforting weight that kept him grounded to the present, Nyrlif, and the reality in front of him.

###

The night after that, Loki stood in front of Thor's door, debating uselessly with himself over if he should knock or not.

Luckily - or not - the decision was made for him. The door flew open and Thor only noticed Loki in time to stop himself from walking into him. "Loki? What are you doing?"

"I came- could we talk?"

Thor gave him a disdainful look. "I have no desire to talk with you right now."

"Well, I want to talk with you," Loki snapped and then immediately attempted to calm himself before he hurt his case further. "Please."

The single word seemed to be enough. After a frustrated sigh, Thor stepped back into his room, leaving the door open. "I am due to meet the Captain soon, so we do not have long." Thor moved a pile of armor off his bed and sat down on the space created as Loki followed him in. "Speak."

"Vali is alive," Loki said in a rush, having to say the words quickly before he changed his mind.

Thor furrowed his brow. "Vali? Your son?"

"Yes."

"How do you know?"

"Sif. Apparently Vali is looking for me. He knew I was of Asgard so I suppose when he heard of the Asgardian encampment, he asked them of me. But he's alive, as I suspected, Thor," he said, grinning widely and genuinely.

Thor smiled. "That is… I'm happy for you, brother, truly. But I must ask, did you not have two sons?"

"Narfi. Yes," Loki said, flashing a tight closed smile. "I do not know what has become of him."

"What will you do?"

Loki could hear the question Thor wasn't asking as clear as the one he did. Are you going to steal the Tesseract from me to find Vali?

Was he? The sharp-eyed, hungry, ambitious wretch in him - the one who trusted nobody, who wandered, who let go of the staff on the rainbow bridge and the one who sought the crown of Midgard - would've, for certain. As Thor had said on Sakkar, that age old tale was getting boring. He couldn't go backwards to that. Forwards was the way, and forwards for him was planting his feet and steadfastly refusing to move.

Besides, he couldn't just leave. He had Ylva and Brunnhilde to look out for; he had the new soldiers to supervise, and the new buildings to oversee. And, of course, things had been looking up with his brother, asides from this bump. If Thor wouldn't give Loki the Tesseract, how could he demand it from him? And how would Loki ever return to Nyrlif if he stole it?

And he might never find Vali. Vanaheim was a big realm; Vali was not an uncommon name. And Vali might be bitterly disappointed that his loving mother was a fucked-up man who had let himself spiral so badly out of control that it was easier for him to be believed dead than alive. And not trying to find him right now was not never trying at all.

Loki drew in a shaky breath, feeling light and unburdened, and spoke. "I'll stay, Thor."

Thor broke out into a radiant grin. "Truely?"

Loki placed his hand on Thor's neck, as how Thor did to him before all the bad things. "Truely."

AN: No glossary in this chapter, since pretty much everything is self explanatory.

We're also going to call this our trilogy of 5 a la Douglas Adams, since this was (as we keep lamenting to ourselves) originally supposed to be a 3 chapter fic no longer than 20,000 words. Oh, we were so naive back then. The finall chapter will be in a week - actually ina week this time, too - and will be a comparatively short epilogue.

Thank you everyone who commented and kudosed and bookmarked - we appreciate every one!

No glossary this chapter, since pretty much everything is self explanatory.

We're also going to call this our trilogy of 5 a la Douglas Adams, since this was (as we keep lamenting to ourselves) originally supposed to be a 3 chapter fic no longer than 20,000 words. Oh, we were so naive back then. The final chapter will be in a week - actually in a week this time, too - and will be a comparatively short epilogue.

Thank you everyone who commented and kudosed and bookmarked - we appreciate every one!

No glossary this chapter, since pretty much everything is self explanatory.

We're also going to call this our trilogy of 5 a la Douglas Adams, since this was (as we keep lamenting to ourselves) originally supposed to be a 3 chapter fic no longer than 20,000 words. Oh, we were so naive back then. The final chapter will be in a week - actually in a week this time, too - and will be a comparatively short epilogue.

Thank you everyone who commented and kudosed and bookmarked - we appreciate every one!