Thor came to see him once a week, to eat a meal and attempt to talk to him. For the last twelve weeks, Loki had been ignoring his efforts. Thor wanted the familial connection with Loki again, to have back his adoring little brother. The blond oaf didn't understand that he'd never have his dark little shadow again. The little brother had realized he was second to his big brother and the adoration had turned to bitterness.

Today, however, Loki needed something from Thor. He needed some perspective. "Why do you love these mortals so much, brother?"

On the other side of the glass, Thor lowered his fork, his blond brows rising in surprise at being spoken to. Normally, they ate in silence. Loki knew that the sudden question would throw him off, and hopefully he'd get a true answer from his adoptive kin. "I find them fascinating. They are so frail and weak and need my protection. They live such short lives, yet live them much like you or I do."

"So you enjoy protecting them." Loki probed a bit deeper, rolling his brother's answer in his head. It was a very Thor answer, wrapped up in strength and weakness - oh, and mind-numbingly boring.

"Yes." Thor smiled broadly. "It is very rewarding to give my protection to them."

"And how did this come about?" Loki asked. He found himself curious; he'd arranged things so that his brother wouldn't come back to Asgard, yet he didn't know exactly what had brought about the rapid conversion of Thor into a lover of Midgardians.

Thor aborted another forkful of mashed potatoes, out and out abandoning it on the side of his plate. Folding his hands together, he stared hard at Loki; just when the adopted jotun thought that Thor would refuse to answer, his brother sighed. "When you cast me into fear and doubt, the mortals accepted me. They made room for me in their world, and they would have allowed me succor there."

"So they fed you and were nice to you." Loki took a bite of his mashed potatoes, secretly wishing he had more. His next few bites would be green bean, to draw out the moment when his potatoes were gone. Most food on Midgard was sickly sweet but he'd found their vegetables quite good. "How magnanimous of you." He leaned forward. "You forget, brother, I know: Selvig told me that he made you promise to leave Jane in the morning, to abandon her for her own sake. That doesn't seem very accepting to me."

"Selvig's heart was in the right place." Thor's stubbornness could be legendary and Loki sighed inwardly as he saw it in evidence now. His brother had decided that he'd been accepted with open arms and he would twist events around in his head to make it happen. "And in the morning, he had changed his mind."

No, he hadn't. Selvig had been ready to insist Thor leave as promised when the Destroyer had arrived and it had all come to an end regardless. Ah, my bad timing, Loki mused sadly. He wished he'd waited just a little longer, just so that Thor would know that he'd been on the verge of rejection.

"So a bit of love and softness from a mortal, followed by a drunken heart-to-heart with another, and you are their mighty protector." Loki shook his head. "Do you know how pathetic that is?"

Thor glared at Loki. "I am not the one in the mortal's cell. I am not the one our father would have killed, had our mother not intervened. I do not think you understand the word 'pathetic', brother."

"I think that I tried for that which I wanted," Loki spat, glad that his brother was paying spite with spite. This was familiar currency to jotun prince. "I saw an open throne on a world that needed a firmer hand and I reached to claim it."

"You are full of bitterness." Thor rose, picking up his plate. "I had hoped that in time you would come to see that your hate has blinded you to the beauty here."

Loki rose as well, moving to the front of the glass. "Can you still find beauty when you bury Jane Foster? Can you feel joy knowing that she will never bear you a son? Will the world still seem so lovely and bright when your eyes are dimmed with grief?"

Thor stopped before the door. "I will cherish the memories I make with her." He turned back to Loki. "I will always have her love, and her heart, and that will be enough. All you will have is a cell unless you change your ways, brother."

"I will escape, Odinson." Loki knew he would. It was a matter of time before he outwitted these mortals.

"And gain what? No one will speak of you when you're gone. No one will care about you, beyond that they care you don't hurt them or one they love." The blond godling curled his lip. "You think this makes you powerful, yet all it makes you is pathetic." He turned and stormed away, leaving Loki alone.

Loki would never admit it but it was the isolation that got to him. The months without the touch of another living creature affected even him. He endured it as best he could, ignoring the faint panic that came whenever Thor or the mortal woman left him alone. The toys he'd been given staved off the boredom for a while but gradually he consented to read even the books. He noticed that if he put them in the slot through which they passed items to him, the woman would bring more.

"Here," she said one day, sitting down and working a thick book through the slot. Loki moved to help her, finding that he reached for her fingers with his own, just to feel something other than glass and books and cloth. But her slim digits pulled away, denying him.

"War and Peace?" he read off the cover, wondering if she'd passed him a boring book on morality.

"It's one of my favorites. I thought you might enjoy it." She gave him a smile and Loki found himself smiling in return - and meaning it. He hadn't smiled like that since he'd learned why Thor was the favored son. "We can talk about, afterwards."

"I doubt it." Loki did what he could to distance himself from the warm feeling she'd generated in him. Mother had often done the same thing: found a book she thought he'd enjoy. She would wait impatiently for him to read it and then they'd talk about it for hours. If there had been spells in its covers, they would do them together, laughing and giggling and playing games with their illusions.

"What was that look for?" Natasha's expression was friendly yet curious, and Loki realized he'd been thinking of Mother.

Loki wanted to tell her. He wanted to talk to someone about Mother, and her death. He would never lower himself to speak of his feelings to a mortal. He opened his mouth and shocked even himself when he said, "My mother would do this."

"Give you books?" Natasha sat in her chair, looking interested.

"Yes." Loki ran his fingers over the leather binding and flipped open the cover. There was an inscription on it and he read aloud. "Tasha - I hear Russians like this short story. Next time you're on a long surveillance sting, you'll have something to read to Barton." Touched that she would loan him a gift, he looked up, his mouth open to say something sharp to relieve the sweetness he felt.

The look in her eyes stopped him. "Can I have that back, please?" She put a hand out, her eyes cool and her expression guarded. "I grabbed the wrong copy."

Pleasure turned to irritation. Loki debated tearing the book apart but he didn't want her visits to stop. "I'll take good care of it," he promised, closing his fingers more tightly over the book. His mother had written messages for him in books, at times. "Who gave this to you? A lover?"

"A friend… almost a lover." She took a deep breath. "You can hold onto it. He turned out to be an asshole." Visibly shaking off her sadness, she asked, "What are you going to teach me today?"

Loki paused, thinking. "I thought some Asgardian culture."

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly as she adopted a knowing smile. "Tired of talking about Midgard culture?" she asked, her tone light and almost teasing.

"Yes. I want to show that we're superior to your people in all ways." Loki cleared his throat and said, "We'll start with a bit of history…"