A few days after Wanda calls Magda, she takes breakfast with Loki and tells him that there is a row house she would like to take him to see and a friend she would like to introduce him to. They are both in pajamas, though she knows Loki does not sleep in them. He asks how he should dress.

"However you like. Magda will open her arms to you whether you are in a suit or a gown."

"You are maddeningly unhelpful."

"I know."

"Would it help gain me some advice if I told you I am feeling very much a man today?"

"Then perhaps a suit? It is a very masculine manner of dress."

"I do not belive I have one."

"I can correct that."

He smiles, "A suit it is, then. I place my fashion in your hands."

"Perhaps you might consider placing such trust in me for something else as well?"

He raises an eyebrow, wary, "Oh?"

"Yes. Your hair," she reaches out and gently twists a lock, "it is a bit lank. Would you let me wash it?"

"Would you? The soap here is strange and I do not have the oils I would in Asgard. I can brush it all I like, but after a time...well, it is rather awful. And I miss how it used to feel."

"Draw your bath and I will fetch what I need from my flat."

He catches her hand as she draws it back and holds it in both of his, "Thank you. I still do not entirely believe your kindness is without a catch."

"It is. Now go. Get in the tub. I will be back shortly and after, I will make you tea."

He does as she asks and a few moments after he has slipped into the searing hot water, he hears the latch on the door, "I hope that is you, Wanda."

"It is."

"Thank goodness. It would have been a bit awkward had it been one of the others."

She enters the bathroom with a shower caddy and a folding stool, which she sets up at his head, "Oh? And why would it be?"

"Thor has told me that they are a bit strange about the naked body."

"Many of us are raised to see it as something to hide, yes."

"And you?"

"I was a HYDRA experiment- they used my anger and my love for Sokovia to recruit me against SHIELD. They undressed us in the name of science whenever they wished to see what effects the sceptre with the blue stone had on our bodies and minds. I am not uncomfortable with bodies. I have seen enough of them undressed, both dead and alive."

She works shampoo into his scalp and he leans back towards her, his eyes closed, "Dead?"

"We were not the only young adults they tried to enhance- to give super powers to. But Pietro and I were the only to survive. Until you have seen your peers convulse and scream into death, or burst into fire from the inside, or dash themselves to bits in their cells...that is horror. And my life after HYDRA took me."

She rinses his hair and he twists to face her, "I am so sorry...I brought the sceptre to this realm... I did not think it would be used by others."

"It was, and by the most despicable cretins I have met. Yet I live, and in a way, I would not be here had you not brought it to this place. Events intertwine."

"I suppose they do."

"Turn back around. I wish to use conditioner on your hair."

"What?"

"It would be like a hair oil, but not so greasy. It will help with the tangles. Trust me."

He rests against the tub and lets her massage his scalp. He finds himself humming with contentment. She again rinses his hair.

"Done. I will leave you to your bath."

"Thank you."

"Of course."

"Is this a common favour for friends to impart in this realm?"

"No, but I am happy to gift it. Relax. It will take me time to ready myself as well. And I will call for a suit."

She leaves and Loki sighs, happy in the warm water with clean hair. When he gets out, he finds a kettle hot on the stove and a tea service set out on the table..

His rest does not last long, though. Thor enters his apartment while he is lounging on the couch in his bathrobe, his arm over his eyes. He does not knock. He drops a large trunk beside the couch and Loki jumps.

"Good morning, Brother! You rest late."

"I have already had breakfast and bathed, you oaf."

"But you were napping on the couch."

"I am waiting for Wanda, if you must know."

Thor breaks into a grin, "Oh? In only your bathrobe?"

"No, Thor, not for that. She is bringing me a suit."

"A suit? Are you going somewhere today?"

"Yes. Her friend, Magda, may have found a home for me. She says it is called a row house."

"Jane lived briefly in a row house. It was nice. Very narrow, though."

"What other options do I have? Do you have a slate of housing to show me? Something I can choose from?"

Thor sighs, "No. Most of the landlords I have spoken to hesitate to rent anything to anyone connected to the Avengers."

"Oh?"

"Too disruptive and potentially destructive."

"Ah. Even though I am not one of you?"

"Yes. Because it is I who call them."

"I hope Magda does not share the same hesitency."

"If she is Wanda's friend, she will not. But enough of this. Are you not curious to see what it is inside the trunk?"

Loki kneels on the floor in front of it and unhasps the lid, "Of course I am." When he opens it, Thor is beaming, proud of what he has brought. Loki gently lifts out a bundle wrapped in fine linen and opens it on the couch cushion, "My scarves." He reverently brushes his hand across the silks.

"I know you like them. And they are beautiful."

"I do not know what to say."

"Keep looking. There are other things in the trunk."

Loki does. The next layer consists of soft shirts and trousers, the clothing he wore when studying or resting. A few vests. His favourite socks. And below that, his ceremonial armor.

"Father would not let me bring the helmet, but he allowed that I could bring you this. It took some convincing, but I thought you might like it as decoration, if nothing else. It is elegant and suits you well. Perhaps when Anthony has his charity ball, you could wear it."

Loki expects that this is the last layer in the trunk and goes to put the other things back in, "Thank you, Thor."

"Lift the armor."

Puzzled, Loki sets his other clothing back on the couch and carefully lifts the leather. Beneath it, he sees the shimmer of fine silk and his breath catches in his throat. He feels his chest tighten and he cannot stop from trembling as he lifts the topmost gown up to the light. A dark rose pink. The first gown his mother gave him.

"Thor, I..."

Thor sits beside him, an hand on his shoulder, as he draws out a butter yellow dress, less formal than the last, "I know they might not fit as they once did, but perhaps you could find a seamstress to alter them for you. But I know these were your favourites. Especially this next one."

Loki's fingers brush the black silk layers before he dares to lift them from the trunk. He stands, holding it up to himself. There is little doubt that it will need to be altered, but for a moment, he closes his eyes and holds it to himself, remembering what it felt like when the silk floated around him, resting on his curves, the fabric's drape light and dramatic, the bias cut of the skirts fluttering in cascading layers down his legs. He does not hear the door open and click softly closed, far lost in the memory.

Wanda silently crosses the room and perches on the edge of the couch, watching. She does not dare touch the piles of exquisite fabric on the cushions. When she sees his eyes open, his focus on the delicate beading along the collar of the gown, she reaches out and touches his back. He glances, a little surprised to find her there, and tries to force a smile. He sets the gown with the others and returns his attention to the trunk where there are two other dresses waiting, one in opalescent white, one in a dark, regal emerald. He holds up each, then repacks the trunk.

"Thank you, Thor. Thank you." He settles beside Wanda. Thor sits on his other side.

"You are welcome. If there are other things you wish me to bring, simply ask. I will do my best to either ask permission or smuggle them to you."

"You would do that? Remove things from Asgard against Odin's wishes?"

"Of course. I intend to assure your life here is comfortable."

Loki's fingers yearn for the black silk dress and he fiddles with the belt of his bathrobe, "You are supposed to be the good son. Not the rebellious and terrible one."

"You are not terrible."

"Then why did he cast me out? Why, Thor? I know what choices I made. I know they were not always rational. But did he truly have no hope for me?"

Thor sighs; he hates that he stands in this middle space, constantly trying to explain Loki to his father and Odin to Loki. But it is what it is. And he has had this conversation with Odin. It was not comfortable. It was hardly pleasant. But he had questions and they needed to be answered. So he asked.

"No. He thought it was the only hope left. That perhaps if you no longer thought yourself a god, you would once again remember how to live."

Loki does not answer; Wanda puts her arm around his shoulders and takes his hand, "Are you going to be alright?"

"I do not know."

"The gowns are gorgeous."

"Yes, they are. And they are a joy to wear. But I fear I will never fit them again."

"If you wish, I will be sure they do."

"How?"

"A debit card tied to a ridiculous amount of money thanks to Tony. I will find an expert seamstress, one well versed in fine garments."

"I do not know if I have the heart to risk damaging them. They are a relic of a life once loved."

She kisses his cheek, "You do not have to decide now. But you do have to get dressed. We do not want to keep Magda waiting." She places a neatly folded pile of clothing in his lap, "It is not so fine as your gowns, but perhaps it will do for now."

He brushes the fabric, "Is this also silk?"

"Of course."

He stands and steps carefully around the trunk, "I will be back shortly." He stops, then retrieves his favourite pair of socks from it.

Once he is in his bedroom, Thor speaks, "You and Loki are becoming quite close."

"Perhaps. I do not like to see someone so sad. I have had enough of sadness."

"From your home country?"

"In part. Our job is to fight, to see the worst of this world and stop it from destroying it. We see the devistation those things bring and we hear the screams. For once, I wish joy. And I can at least bring a little of it to him."

"Then you may be the only one who can."

"I think, in time, your gift of the trunk will do so as well. He can bloom here."

"You have great hope for him. More, I think, than anyone else."

"You do not?"

"I do, but I am wary. And I do not trust he will not self destruct instead."

She hears the bedroom door click, "I intend to do what I can to prevent that."

"Prevent what?"

She smiles broadly as he enters the room, "You from harming yourself." She straightens his lapel, more fussing for fussing's sake than actually fixing anything, "You look delightful."

"I think there is something missing."

"Oh?"

He crosses to the trunk and draws out a long silk scarf, "Yes. This."

"I saw the surveilance photographs from Stuttgart. We all wondered about the scarf."

"I have always liked it a little more than the others."

"There are shoes for you by the door. Gather what you wish to take with you- I am ready to go when you are."

Loki brings the shoes to the couch, "Would you like to go with us?"

Thor smiles, "I would love to, Brother." Thor hugs him with one arm.

"Then get ready you sappy sot," he is grinning as he playfully shoves Thor off him. It is the first time that Wanda thinks she is seeing a little of how the brothers used to act before the mess of the past few years and it makes her indescribably happy. Once they are ready, she leads them down to her car and they venture through the city.