For the past week or two I've been emotionally stressed about life in general, but strangely enough updates are always a nice patch of sunshine for the day. I admit I'm a little frantic about this story now, to the point of paranoia, as it's approaching the climax but doesn't seem to be delivering as well as I'd like.
That being said, I want to thank you all for returning chapter after chapter and reading my writing. Frankly, this story has taken up four months of long nights of my life. To realize that people actually sit down and read it is more than I can ask for. Whatever happens in my life, whether my future involves what I dream of or ends up not being what I dreamed of, I will forever appreciate the audience I have now and the kindness you guys have shown me.
Fury was not a high-strung man. The trainees would whisper such rumors behind his back when he walked away and he could practically hear their knees clacking together with intimidation if his eye fell on them. When he spoke, he could tell just by the way they blinked that they were surprised he was not yelling at them.
Yes, he could lose his temper. Yes, his language was coarser than everyone's grandmothers', but he prided himself with the fact that he could take situations more calmly than most. He was one of the few agents that didn't feel the need to tote their weapon on both sides during the coffee break. He only yelled at a trainee for leaving the door open behind them twice. He was far from a high-strung man.
Which, of course, meant that when approached with surprises and unpredicted events, he didn't have to count to three before flailing and screaming when forced to improvise. Like when Agent Hill told him he had a visitor in his office waiting to speak for him when he was certain he neither had any appointments nor anyone who would want to speak to him face-to-face today or any day—he took it all in stride and made his way to his office, leaving the inevitable questions in his mind in their compartments to prod around at later.
When Fury reached his office, the guest—an unfamiliar tall man with blond curls—was already sitting at a chair before his desk, hands folded neatly on his lap. Fury couldn't resist giving the man a brief once-over at the sight of him; he looked like nothing that would associate himself with SHIELD and more like a young businessman who was meant to attend a job interview in New York City and unwittingly wandered into SHIELD headquarters instead. Why any of the other agents let the man in his office, Fury had no idea.
The man turned in his chair and stood up, bowing his head. Fury raised his eyebrow in acknowledgement, wracking his memory to locate the smallest scrap of recognition as to who this stranger was and why he was here.
"Have a seat," said Fury.
The man obliged quietly. Fury made his way around his desk, clearing away the papers that piled up on it like a mess of leaves.
"I don't remember making any appointments with anyone lately," said Fury, sweeping the papers into a desk drawer. "In fact, I don't remember having any visitors dropping by for a nice chat either."
When he looked up from his papers to the man, Fury froze. Those blond curls smoothed and blackened , the soft facial features sharpening, and all signs of unfamiliarity melting away with the shape-shifted façade as Loki sat before him, as prim and proper on the chair as a soldier, blinking innocently as if there was nothing—absolutely nothing—wrong with this situation.
If it were anyone else but Fury, Loki would have had seventeen bullet holes already through his chest before security could even knock on the door. But Fury was not high-strung, and he continued to remind himself that when he laid his eye on the ex-war criminal sitting before his desk like a student waiting to speak to his teacher. He could only stare, trying to determine if Loki was only a figment of his imagination.
"Making an actual appointment with you would have been a little difficult on my part, to be frank," said Loki.
Fury opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.
"Thought you didn't talk," said Fury.
"Well, that changes everything," Loki said with a light smile.
Fury should have called down security, or at least pointed a gun to Loki's head and demanded answers. After all, the last time he saw Loki was when he nearly blew up half of the headquarters after Tony thought he could manipulate magic to his will. Now, Loki was talking as if nothing wrong had happened to him, still sporting the half smile that questioned his honesty, except he was gaunter than usual, if that was even possible.
"I have every reason to kick your ass out of my office and put you in a secured safe," said Fury.
"You and I both know I can easily disappear from that situation without much effort," said Loki.
Fury's eye flickered to the metallic glove on Loki's hand. "Stark fixed you up, didn't he?"
"A wise guess," said Loki.
"Yeah? Since when did Stark trust you enough to give you back your magic tricks?" said Fury.
"You sound skeptical," said Loki.
"Sure I am. You blow things up every time I see you."
"And yet, here I still am," said Loki, gesturing with a sweep of the hand. "And everything has yet to be combusted. If you truly didn't think I was trustable, I don't think we'd still be talking right now."
Every voice of common sense in Fury's head was telling him to shut Loki's trap and get him out before he could cast his magic, but there was something different about Loki now that made Fury hold steady—not the gauntness or the delicateness of his voice, but the bluntness he spoke with. The rawness in his eyes. Honesty.
"We both know that I'm the last person you'd have a tea party with," said Fury. He pulled up his chair and sat on it, studying Loki suspiciously. "So you better spill fast about what you want before I call people down here to deal with you."
"Tony told me," said Loki. "How your superiors demand my head."
"Right," said Fury. He rubbed his forehead tiredly. "Well, you can tell Stark that—"
"He's right," said Loki.
Fury raised an eyebrow at Loki. "Come again?"
Loki was calm, even to the end.
"No matter how anyone looks at it," said Loki, "people have died under my hand. And nothing was properly done to repent for it."
Fury gawked at him.
"So that's it?" said Fury. He was tempted to laugh. "You're not going to be dragged out kicking and screaming? You'll just hand yourself over so that the next step in your plan can be accomplished?"
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," said Loki.
"What the hell are you talking about?" said Fury.
This time it was Loki's turn to hesitate. He pressed his interlocked fingers against his lips in contemplation, eyes deep with pensiveness.
"Even with my powers, I cannot bring back the dead," said Loki. "Nor can I change what has been done. Repentance does little, as does compassion. And if nothing is done, can either truly exist?"
"Since when did you feel sorry for killing a couple of ants, according to you?" said Fury.
Loki's eyes flashed, but he did not move.
"I've lived a long life between now and the last time I was in this city," said Loki. "I've learned a great deal." He raised an eyebrow. "If Thor could so quickly turn from his ways of arrogance and racism in a matter of three days, I wonder why people find it hard to grasp that I could change my mind after several hundred years."
Fury crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair.
"So you're not here to hand your ass over," said Fury. "What the hell do you want?"
"Your Avengers and I will leave Midgard today," said Loki. "Danger brews outside of Midgard and they have—stubbornly—put themselves on the line. Thanos plans to wage war on all the Nine Realms, and this may be the only chance to stop him."
"Hold the phone," said Fury. "Who is waging war? War?"
"I have little time to repeat myself," said Loki. "To put it shortly, I will leave your realm with your heroes to fight an enemy that threatens all our homes. Let this be my chance of repenting, Director. I cannot bring back the lives I've taken, so let me try to save the ones still left."
Fury's mind was in a storm of confusion. What was this war that Loki spoke of? Why was he only hearing of this now? Why did none of the other Avengers inform him that they were leaving the planet?
"Tell me you're lying just to mess with me," said Fury. "Who the hell are you? You aren't Loki. Loki wouldn't put his life on the line for a mess of mortals."
Loki gave Fury a crooked smile.
"Well, your Avengers wouldn't put their lives on the line for a fool like me," said Loki. "And yet they've already done so. If mortal lives are subject to so much change, think of how many changes can occur in a life of two thousand years."
Loki lowered his hands onto his lap. Fury only now realized how skeletal Loki was, and how the smallest tremor ran down his limbs. If Fury hadn't known any better, he would think that Loki was ill.
"And," Loki said, "your council does not need to worry about demanding my life anymore."
"What are you talking about?" said Fury.
Loki's smile was small and sad.
"I am the last to depend on certainty," he said, "nor am I ever in the Norns' favor, but I do not think I was meant to come out of this war alive, victory or loss."
Of all the sharp eloquence that Fury was so blessed with, he now found himself at a loss of words when an old enemy admitted that he was possibly going to die. Fury could only stare at Loki, trying to piece together all these drastic changes to form some sort of window to understanding. Loki was the god of lies, he knew, but he was weighed down with so much honesty that Fury knew there was nothing untrue about what he said.
"So what?" Fury said when he finally found his voice in all its gruff glory. "You're coming here to give a last teary goodbye? What's the meaning of this?"
"I admit, Director, if I was meant to give a goodbye to only one person, I would not waste it on you," said Loki. "I thought it only fair to tell you…you needn't worry. Your council's wishes will undoubtedly be met. And you won't have to deal with me anymore." Loki bowed his head slightly. "And—if this can be in any way reparation for what I've wreaked upon your world, then please—please accept it. It is little, but I know not what else to do."
There was silence between them. When Fury found his voice, he had yet to rediscover his senses.
"I don't get it," said Fury. "You're just letting yourself die? After kicking around New York City like some pompous Godzilla and demanding everyone bow down to you, you come back here to me to tell me you're sorry and you're going to let yourself die for the sake of—for the sake of practically everyone?"
And most of all, why?
"I want to change," said Loki. "Let me change, as you've let the poor and downtrodden under your wing change." His smile was broken in a way that almost hurt, that shook all predisposed opinions and understandings. "I want to do good for those who were far too good to me. For once, I want to be good."
You can't be good, Fury once would have said. You're the god of goddamn mischief, you killed countless of people intentional or not, you've maimed hundreds, you tried killing your brother, you've done things no one should be forgiven of.
But instead, after a pause of speechless, Fury said, "I want to believe you."
Loki exhaled softly.
"That's all I ask," he said.
Fury didn't know what else to say. Was he supposed to mourn? To worry? To rejoice? He didn't know what to feel except a strange rush through the hollowness inside him. When everything he once thought he knew about Loki diminished into something unrecognizable and he wondered if he had blinked, if he had looked away too soon to see the change, and how much he had missed.
A knock on the door interrupted the silence.
"I ought to take my leave," said Loki. He stood from his seat. Fury wondered if he was supposed to shake his hand. "Thank you…for your time, Director."
"Wait," said Fury. Loki paused. "You—my Avengers better come back in good shape. Don't you let them get into trouble, or throw them under the bus. If you want to be good, make sure they come back safe and sound to a safe and sound Earth once this war is won. You hear?"
Loki blinked before smiling.
"If by my life or death I can protect them, I shall," said Loki.
The knocking became more persistent. Loki glanced briefly over his shoulder before giving a soft sigh.
"Farewell, Director," said Loki.
And with a shudder—as if the air shifted around them—Loki disappeared. Fury found his will a moment too late.
"Goodbye," he let himself say.
Just as the word escaped his mouth, the door opened and the agent stepped inside, files in hand to deliver to Fury. The agent frowned quizzically at Fury, blinking as if wondering if he misheard.
"Goodbye?" said Coulson. "I only just came in."
They all stood on the roof of Stark Tower, the sun directly above their heads. Anyone looking up would think it was a glare of light, or perhaps that Tony was experimenting with laser shows, which was a reasonable assumption. No one would notice the Bifröst, and if they did…well, this city had seen worse.
Pepper stood beside them, her eyes red but her composure otherwise impeccably calm. The others pretended to not notice how closely she locked fingers with Tony, and how distraught Tony looked at the thought of her anxiety. They shifted their gazes away to their packed weapons or other provisions, double-checking and triple-checking that everything was in the right order. Though, what was one arrow or one knife missing going to make a difference?
"I want to come with you," Pepper said for the fourth time.
"Pepper," Tony said.
"I know," said Pepper. "I shouldn't. I wouldn't be able to help. I'm not a warrior like any of you, but for goodness' sake, I'm just as desperate to stop this Thanos as the rest of you. And you, Tony Stark—" She poked him viciously in the chest. "You—as much as I want to trust that you'll take care of yourself, I'm always afraid you won't. If you get hurt up there, if you get yourself into trouble, you—you are sleeping on the doorstep of this tower for a month. Make that three. Because I'm rooting for you down here and I'll be waiting and I won't forgive you if you get blood on the carpet."
"There's my strong warrior," said Tony, giving her a kiss. Loki readjusted the straps of his armor to pretend he was not aware of their intimacy. He was all too aware of how many people would not appreciate it if any of the mortals returned to Earth with so much as a scratch on their chin.
He cast a glance at the sky, his mouth suddenly feeling impossibly dry. He did not know what to think about returning to Asgard. Relief? Fear? Pain? Asgard was his home in another lifetime, but that lifetime was not his anymore. He was treated like he was made of ice when he had returned from Midgard in chains, people staring with disbelief and uncertainty at their fallen youngest prince, who in the span of year went from the casual trickster to the mad, radical murderer and no one tried to understand why. They would not trust him; Loki could not think of any reason why they would.
And Father…
He closed his eyes as a pang struck his heart. He never forgot the look of disappointment in Odin's face when Odin looked upon his prisoner of a son. And when Odin had given Loki back to Thanos when Thanos had offered—
Where was the anger? The indignation? The resentment that Loki was so familiar with? But he knew no matter how many times Odin hurt him, and no matter how many times Loki shamed Odin, Loki would crave for a father's love, a father's gaze upon him that did not burn, and he didn't think to feel ashamed of such sentiment anymore.
"Are we ready to depart?" Thor said.
Pepper wiped her eyes discreetly with the back of her hand before giving Tony another peck on the lips.
"I'll step out of the way," she said.
"I'll see you soon," Tony said.
Pepper smiled, giving Tony's hand one last squeeze before turning away. She hugged the other Avengers and Loki goodbye before descending from the roof and back into the tower. Tony watched her leave hungrily before forcing the armor's mask onto his face and turning away.
"You sure we can withstand this rainbow bridge of yours, Thor?" said Bruce.
"I think you of all people have little to worry about," said Tony. "If the Other Guy can protect you from a wave of gamma radiation, a roller coaster shouldn't do you in. Will you be all right for travel, Bambi?"
"I ought to be," said Loki. "The arc reactor keeps the Mind Gem from doing any worse damage than it already is."
"Are we certain about that?" said Steve.
"Certainty takes too long, Captain," said Loki. He nodded to Thor. "We are all ready."
Thor raised his face to the skies. "Heimdall, do you hear me? Open the Bifröst!"
The clouds overhead shivered on command. Suddenly, a bright ray of light descended upon the tower, pulling at them as if it conjured invisible hooks and snared them into the sky. Loki was swept off his feet, shuttling into the heavens as the Bifröst sucked them cleanly off of Midgard. He could barely see the others hurdle beside him as the rushing jets of colors intertwined about them.
He felt the Mind Gem twist in his chest and he held his breath, his head spinning.
Not now. Not yet.
He could see Asgard—a pinprick of gold—before them, and he closed his eyes.
Solid floor met his feet roughly, as if some invisible force took a hold of him and forced him onto ground. He nearly stumbled, letting out a gasp as the dregs of the Bifröst's power still clung to him. Thor shook off the trip carelessly, as unaffected by the Bifröst as the mortals were disturbed. Steve looked green in the face and Tony was stumbling like a drunkard.
"That. Was. Awesome," Clint said, clutching the side of his head. "Let's do that again later."
"You're lining up for that roller coaster alone, buddy," Tony said, gagging.
Loki almost chuckled, but found that he was feeling just as ill as Tony looked. He had utilized the Bifröst frequently in his life and was no stranger to crossing between realms, so why did he feel so unwell after one trip? He swallowed, his mouth worryingly dry and his breathing difficult, and tried to hide his discomfort behind his trademark emotionlessness.
He turned to Natasha, only to see her eyes were fixed on someone else. When he looked up, he felt a jolt of wariness and clenched his teeth. Of course. He should have remembered that if he was returning to Asgard via the Bifröst he ought to expect to run into Heimdall.
Heimdall stood as unmoving as stone at his post, hands still curled around his golden blade. His ocher eyes fell upon Thor, who strode up before the gatekeeper. Loki fought the urge to step back, as if a foot more of distance was all it took to draw Heimdall away to not affect him.
"Thank you for bringing us, Heimdall," said Thor.
"Word has been sent to the king of your arrival, my prince." said Heimdall. "They would be glad to hear of your return."
His voice was as delicate as ever, and Loki could not help but begrudgingly think that at least certain things did not change in Asgard during his captivity.
"Then he will be expecting us soon," said Thor. He turned back to the rest of them. "Is everyone all right?"
"I wish you could have warned us that this bridge was essentially a wormhole of horror," said Bruce, rubbing his temples.
"I apologize," said Thor, "except I do not think even a word of warning would have prepared you very well."
Heimdall's eyes landed on Loki. Loki stiffened, clenching his teeth at Heimdall's unfailing gaze. He still remembered that, despite whatever argument Heimdall may have in defense, Heimdall did try to attack him when he was in all technicality and legality king of Asgard. He kept his gaze fixed on the back of Thor's head, pretending he did not notice Heimdall's watch.
"Prince Loki," said Heimdall.
"You can forego the address, Heimdall," Loki said. "I would think that sometime between my imprisonment and now I would have lost my title by now."
"And you needn't think that is the one thing that is different during your time on Midgard," said Heimdall.
"I take it you are happy to see me again," said Loki with a raise of an eyebrow.
"You've grown, my prince, in your time away," said Heimdall. "It was always a wonder how quickly you can change." He paused before bowing his head. "It is good to see you better."
Loki said nothing. There was no lie or scorn in Heimdall's voice, but neither was there a warm welcome. Why would Heimdall care if Loki was 'better' now? Both had tried to attack the other, betrayed the other, with no word of reconciliation in between. He wondered how much Heimdall had seen of him in Midgard and he cast a sidelong glance at Natasha.
"Shall we make way to the castle now?" said Thor.
"Hold up a sec," said Tony, pulling off his helmet. His hair looked as if a tornado had tried to eat it. "I'm still trying to get my sea legs. Er—my space legs."
"I can't believe it," said Steve. "We're in space. I mean—we're in a completely different planet. I can't wrap my head around it—we're in a new world."
"Loki?" Natasha said.
Loki turned to Natasha, raising his eyebrows.
"You look…sick," she said.
He mentally cursed. "I haven't traveled via the Bifröst in a while," he said, the lie smooth as silk. "I must have lost my touch."
He stepped forward to follow Thor out of the Observatory, but the world spun as he lifted his foot. He saved himself from stumbling forward, but his lungs felt constricted and his limbs fatigued as if fevered. He rubbed his sore chest begrudgingly—why couldn't he dig his fingers into his chest and rip the Mind Gem out right here and now?
"Are you better, my friends?" said Thor to Tony and Bruce, who were still recovering from the tumultuous trip. "The walk to the castle will be closer to half an hour, but we can call for horses if you'd prefer."
"No," Tony and Bruce said simultaneously. Tony tucked his helmet under his arm, straightening his back.
"See? Good as new," said Tony. "I just…well, I prefer traveling with my suit."
"I've called for an escort for you, my prince," Heimdall said.
Thor furrowed his eyebrows. "Escorts? Heimdall, we are all grown, we do not need—"
"Thor!"
Thor spun around just before a figure launched toward him, throwing its arms around his shoulders and grasping him tight. Thor stumbled back in surprise before recognition settled in and he gave Sif a crushing embrace. Loki felt his level of wariness skyrocket at the sight of Sif and he blindly felt for Natasha's wrist. She sensed his discomfort and gripped his shoulder reassuringly.
"It is good to see you again, Thor," Sif said once she broke away. Her dark hair was bound into a tight ponytail like a whip and her blades at her side numerous, and yet in her formidability she glowed with excitement. "It has been far too many months since you were home."
"And it was time well spent, my friend," said Thor. "There is much we must do to prepare for Thanos' war, Sif. We must—"
But before Sif could hear the rest of what Thor said, her gaze flickered toward Loki and her eyes widened. Loki gritted his teeth with half the mind to go about as if he never saw her. It was disconcerting, to say the least, for the very people that betrayed him as king to be the first ones he saw when he returned home.
Sif stiffened at the sight of him, her jubilation falling from her face immediately. She slowly approached him, her gaze on him stony and threatening. Loki stood his ground, only able to imagine what sort of unpleasant thoughts about him ran through her mind. She was as fierce and as quick to glower at him as ever, he noted wryly.
"Loki," she said.
"Lady Sif," he said.
She set her jaw. "You look like you've seen awful days."
"Does that please you?" he said.
Loki had prided himself in being able to predict many of Sif's next actions. She was a fighter, a perfect example of an Asgardian warrior whose loyalties dictated her thoughts and actions to a T, and therefore extremely predictable. But if he was truly, truly honest with himself, he did not expect her to slap him across the face.
The strike echoed throughout the Observatory, rivaled only by Clint's low whistle of sympathy and indulging approval and Tony's yelp of surprise. Even Natasha stared with raised eyebrows, as if torn between disapproval of Sif's violence and humor at Loki's look of absolute bafflement.
"Why," said Sif, her voice dangerous, "do you assume that I would wish that for you, you absolute idiot?"
"Let's not resort to violence so quickly, I've barely said anything yet," said Loki, his cheek still stinging.
"You are—" Sif punched him in the chest and he couldn't suppress his groan. "—an utter—" She hit him straight in the stomach. "—and insufferable—" Now his shoulder suffered under her fist. "—fool, Loki Odinson, if you think I hated you so much I would wish that much harm on you."
"Sif, let's not make him a casualty before the war has even begun," Thor said, unable to keep the humor on his face from escaping.
"So I take it more people than just the king and queen know about my run-in with Thanos," Loki said to Thor, one eyebrow cocked accusingly.
"Will you make a jest about everything?" said Sif.
"Of course," said Loki. "When the very person I thought abhorred the very core of my being accuses me of not trusting that she cared—"
"Abhor? I did not abhor you," said Sif. "I objected to your deceitful ways. I distrusted your antics, and rightly so. I was angered by your weapon of a silver tongue. But I never hated you, you arse of a prince. And to think you thought I would rejoice in what you suffered."
Her glower was enough to make him feel as if he shrunk five feet. He discreetly dug his fingernail into his skin to make sure this wasn't all some sort of hallucination.
"We mourned for you, you dolt," said Sif. "Asgard mourned for her buffoon of a prince, and here you thought that we wouldn't care if—"
Loki laughed, startling her.
"If you wanted to say welcome back," said Loki, "you could have easily just done so."
Sif looked as if she wanted nothing more than to grind her heel onto his toes.
"You make me regret my words, you truly do," Sif said. "I still haven't forgiven you. For anything. Anything."
"Now that is unexpected news," Loki said.
Sif drew her arm back to punch Loki again, but finally swallowed down the impulse. She nodded to the Avengers around her. "Welcome, Midgardians, to Asgard. Thank you for coming to us in our time of aid."
"Sure thing," Clint said with all the elegance and formality he could muster. It took little effort for Loki to tell that Clint thoroughly enjoyed how Sif physically assaulted him.
"Come with me," said Sif, making her way to the mouth of the Observatory. "I will take you to the castle, and you will meet the All-Father. Everything is already prepared for your arrival."
Loki waited with baited breath for the others' reaction as they stepped out of the Observatory into open air. The effect was immediate; as soon as they walked onto the bridge and the open space surrounded them from every direction, a collective gasp fell around him. Even Loki felt overwhelmed by the light years of stars and planets around him, and if it weren't for the fact that he was standing upright and that he could see Asgard on the other end, he might have thought he was falling again.
"Holy cow," said Tony. His eyes were wide with wonder. "Being in the middle of space doesn't give it justice. It's like the galaxy is wrapped around us."
The rainbow bridge pulsed at their every step, solid like ice and yet free-form like the lights. Bruce bent down briefly to touch the surface.
"This isn't even made of any kind of glass or stone," said Bruce. "I feel it on my hand, but I half-expect for my fingers to go right through it."
"Mortals never do take things for granted, do they?" Loki said with a crooked smile.
"Ain't no one got time for that," Clint said with a snort. "Watch yourself, Natasha."
Natasha looked up at Clint and gave him a reassuring nod. She had been closer to the edge than the others, leaning just enough to look down below them. There was no end to the plummet, and Loki could see its depth reflect in her eyes.
"How fares Asgard at this time, Sif?" said Thor.
"We are prepared for battle," said Sif. "There were spies—Chitauri spies—that had infiltrated the Vault and stolen many of the Gems. The gauntlet is still with us, but Thanos possesses Time, Reality, and Soul."
Thor exchanged a knowing look with Loki.
"We've been ready for Thanos ever since," Sif said. "Truthfully, we tried to be ready when he had come to Asgard—" She paused for a moment before quickening her steps, her voice rough. "—Anyway, he will not take from us so easily anymore. We've prepared sanctuaries for our civilians for them to retreat to by the end of this week, and all our troops are in order."
"What of the Tesseract?" said Loki.
Sif raised a dark brow. "Why do you ask?"
"Now, don't suspect me of anything just yet," said Loki. "The Tesseract has unlimited power. Surely even Thanos must yield to it."
"The Tesseract is currently being used to keep the Bifröst intact and working," said Sif. "We take it out for some other use, then the Bifröst will break immediately and we can hardly afford a second time."
"If I hadn't known any better, I'd say you were accusing me of something, Sif."
"Then it's very fitting that you really don't know anything."
"And what of the other realms?" Thor said, quickly intervening. "Are they prepared as well?"
"The Queen had contacted Vanaheim to warn them and ally ourselves with their forces," Sif said, still grimacing at Loki. "She will depart for there again in two days for last-minute preparations."
"And what of the elves and the dwarves?"
"Alfheim has finally opened negotiation with us, but our delegates remain there still and we have yet to know the final verdict," said Sif. "The Dark Elves were reluctant to have anything to do with us, but we've agreed not to kill each other while Thanos was killing us."
"That is progress indeed," said Thor.
"Still can't believe elves are real," said Tony. "Hey Clint, I think we can finally find your kin."
"You're hilarious," said Clint.
"And what of the Frost Giants?" Loki said.
Sif opened her mouth and then closed it, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. Loki wondered if she knew, and precisely how many others knew about his heritage. One thing for sure, he doubted that Thor had found out by putting two and two together long ago.
"Mama, look!"
A young voice shook him from his thoughts and he stiffened. They had entered the city without his realizing and all of a sudden he feared being swallowed whole. The townspeople spotted the party entering Asgard from their windows and their stables, rushing from one place to another to get a better look. Children crawled onto the roofs of their homes to catch sight of their princes and the unfamiliar companions while their parents watched the procession with wide and curious eyes.
Loki clenched his teeth. It hit him—again—that he was returning to Asgard, to his home, and he was more or less afraid. These people ought to hate him for what he had done to Asgard, to the throne, to Thor, for being a Frost Giant, for being many things, for not being many things—so where were the jeers that were to rain down on him? Where were the pieces of rotten fruit to throw, and the cruel names?
"Come, you fool," Sif said from the corner of her lips. She shoved Loki in the back until he walked side by side with the others. "You do not return to Asgard as a prisoner. Do not act like it."
Loki would have fought back with an equally sharp retort, only to find himself at a fit of disbelief. When he had fallen from the Bifröst, he expected never to see Asgard again—even more than that, he never expected to see anything again. And of course, with his luck, here he was years afterward—more or less alive than before, and returning to Asgard with no more muzzles or chains to bind him like an animal.
"Is that Prince Thor? Where has he been this whole time?"
"Was he away as an ambassador?"
"Did the war keep him away?"
"See his companions behind him! Surely they are not from here."
"They must be of another realm, to help us fight the war."
"Look at that man's armor, metal fit for the dwarves."
"Wait—the one that stands between Lady Sif and Prince Thor."
"Could that be—?"
"Is that—?"
The hushed exclamations around them made Loki's head spin. He was not unaccustomed to the whispers, as the court had not always found him favorable in his youth, but the townspeople had more or less left him alone, probably finding him an entertaining monarch whose magic made no difference whether or not they would have bread on the table or if their sons would be dragged into war. But all their mutters of astonishment made him jittery and he had to dig his fingers into his palm to keep from stumbling.
"Tell me," said Loki, barely moving his lips. "How public was the news that my justice on Asgard was—ah—interrupted?"
"Thanos did not come very quietly into Asgard that one time, if that is your question," Sif said.
"Well, that's delightful," said Loki. He let another pulse of magic intensify in his chest, smoothing away any blemishes in his façade of magic so that any sign of ailment was perfectly invisible.
"It's like we walked right into a fantasy book," said Steve, voice soft with awe. "Like we're in the Medieval ages or something."
"Yeah, like we just popped into a Time Machine and went back a thousand years," said Clint. "Do you feel at home here yet, Grandpa?"
"Whoa, you're the one with the bow and arrow, Clint."
Loki stifled a chuckle. It was fitting how childlike the others felt when they stepped into Asgard; their brief lives were barely enough for children compared to the eternity of Asgard.
"Prince Loki, Prince Loki—"
"How long has it been since he was gone?"
When they passed, the townspeople hastily remembered to bow around them, but Loki could still hear their words as they lifted their heads discreetly from their signs of respect and murmur to one another.
"They say Thanos had kidnapped him—"
"Was he in captivity this whole time?"
"Does he come back a prince or a prisoner?"
"Mama, I want to see him, pick me up so I can see him—"
"Pretty close-knit neighborhood, aren't they?" Bruce said, mildly amused.
Loki looked up and he felt his heart nearly stop in his chest. The castle loomed overhead, reaching sky high like a golden mountain until it cast shadows on the cobblestone roads. He realized then and there that here was where the court that mocked him lived, here was where his mother and father waited, the father whom he had no idea would be happy to see his return. Loki knew he deserved no warm welcome from Odin, after all that he had done—and yet here he was knocking on the front door and demanding entrance.
"Open the gates!" Sif called to the guards at their post on the portcullis. The guards promptly obliged and the iron barred doors split open for them, painfully slow and climatic. Loki suddenly wished that they had not walked so quickly through the city and ruefully wondered why they had left the Rainbow Bridge in such haste. His mouth felt ill and his head spun even more violently than before.
"Thor—" he croaked.
"The All-Father waits for you in the throne room," said the guard at the top of the gates. "See that he does not wait long."
The news did not ease Loki's lightheadedness in the slightest. He swallowed, his throat feeling thick in the insides.
"Thor, I will wait outside," Loki said.
Thor turned incredulously to Loki. "What are you talking about?"
"I shan't come inside," Loki said. He felt everyone's eyes fall on him and shame pricked his skin hotly. "Father cannot possibly—"
"Loki," Thor said. "There is nothing to be afraid of."
"I'm not afraid," said Loki. It was the simplest lies that were always the hardest to make convincing.
Thor put a hand on the back of Loki's neck, as he had once done long ago.
"Come home now, Loki," he said. "It's been far too long."
Loki took in a deep breath and finally complied to follow Sif to the castle. Each step closer made his heartbeat multiply in speed and he wondered just how pathetic and embarrassing it would be for him if he had fainted out of shock before even reaching the doors. He took in deep breaths to keep himself from becoming more nauseous.
You are a fool, Loki thought to himself. After you had fallen, what did you care about Odin's opinion? What did it matter to you that he had been disappointed?
Nothing. Loki thought nothing of what Odin wanted when he partnered with the Chitauri to claim Earth as his own. But now was far too different. Now Loki cared, and hurt, and he remembered all over again how cumbersome sentiment it was, that it sent his heart in a fit of uncertainty and fear.
"Look," said Natasha all of a sudden.
Loki followed her gaze and suddenly felt the blood drain from his face. There, at the archway before the door entering the castle was a white-headed and regal figure far too familiar. Odin was outside of the castle waiting for them, and the moment his eye fell upon the entering procession, he immediately made his way to them.
No, he ran to them.
Loki felt the strongest desire to run away, but Clint and Steve somehow purposely positioned themselves directly behind him that he could not escape easily. Suddenly this courtyard felt far too narrow with nowhere to run or breathe, and Odin was coming so close, so quickly, until Loki could see his lined face. He felt his heart ache at the sight of his father's face, ache with pain and betrayal and anger and most of all want. He wanted his father again but how could he when he deserved no one? When all the horrible lies and anger between them were so scarring that they couldn't possibly move on as father and child?
Loki knew he deserved only one thing. As Odin finally came to them, his one eye wet and wide, Loki stepped away from the others, and fell to his knees before the king.
He heard a gasp behind him, whether it was one of his companions or one of the hands of the castle, he did not know. He cared not. With his head low and his back curved in a surrendering bow, he could not even bring himself to look at his father's feet.
"All-Father," he said, and it hurt to speak.
"Loki—" Thor started behind him, but Sif hushed him immediately. Loki found it difficult to breathe, but managed to speak with his strangled voice.
"All-Father, I am not worthy," he said, and he meant every word of it. "I know you would not want to see me here. I have hurt and betrayed you and all of Asgard time and time again. I've been nothing but heartache to you."
His arms shook underneath him and he felt the Mind Gem still have its hold on his being, even if it did not consume him, but he forced himself not to let himself fall or fail in speaking. Humility was by far a virtue he never properly acquainted himself with.
"I do not deserve to be your son," said Loki. He could see his fingers trembling as they pressed desperately against the stone ground underneath him. "But please—let me protect Asgard at this time. Let me be your servant instead, let me—"
But before Loki could say anything more, he felt strong arms wrap around his shoulder. He jumped, his breath catching in his throat, and dared to let his eyes wander upward. His heart nearly failed him at the sight of Odin kneeling in front of him, drawing him close.
"My son," Odin said, and his voice was choked. "My son, you've returned."
Why did he shed a tear for Loki? Why did he deign to fall to Loki's level and touch him? Loki didn't realize how much he was shaking until Odin hugged him tighter and the warmth of being in his father's arms was almost impossible to believe. He was frozen to the spot, all of his senses and mind failing him at the same time.
"Why?" Loki said in a strangled voice. "I am covered in the innocents' blood. Why do you still take me? I failed you. I shamed you. I—"
"And yet you come back to me," said Odin. "And that is all I ever wanted in this world. I've seen you at your darkest and I still love you."
Odin smoothed Loki's hair on the back of his head and Loki felt his throat burn. He remembered how much he hated Odin after falling from the Bifröst, how he would spit at the thought of his name. How he screamed for Odin's mercy like a child when the Chitauri tortured him with visions and memories. How his heart ached when Thanos dragged him away from his father's castle. How everything about Loki hurt Odin and Odin hurt everything about Loki and here they were, in each other's arms.
"I was the one that failed you, my child. I had hurt you in ways I never wanted. Forgive an old man, my son, for even in my age I am not wise. Forgive me—"
Before Loki could react, Odin pulled away from him and bent low, bowing to Loki with his forehead to the ground. Loki shook his head, overwhelmed until mute, trying to lift his father from his humility.
No no no not for me I could never not for me don't—
He nearly collapsed, his head resting on his father's as he grasped his shoulders tightly. He was a fool, a traitor, a criminal, a disgrace—and yet his father would wash his feet with tears.
When Odin finally raised his head to face Loki, Loki could not hold back the tears. His father's face was full of relief, was full of love, and Loki realized how he had never seen those sentiments as a lie on Odin's face before.
"All of Asgard will rejoice with us," said Odin. "My son had been lost, but here—now—he has been found. He has come home."