AN: Whoa! Thank you everyone who reviewed! Also, welcome new followers! I think the last chapter was a record! I cannot tell you how grateful I am for all of your feedback! I am sorry this chapter took so long to write. It felt like forever! I think the new Thor trailer gave me the extra push to finish this thing! I hope you all enjoyed it! :D And please enjoy this next chapter :D

Chapter 37: The Offer

Loki could still remember the first time he met her; her smile was cheeky and her wit was infectious. They had been in the library, and she hade made him look like a fool—requesting that he edit one of her dissertations after he proclaimed that he was a champion healer. He hadn't understood a word of it; it had been on cognitive defects and recent advances in neuropathology—how ironic.

While he may have been talented in the most basic healing charms, reading her work made it obvious that she was on a whole different level. She had redefined medicinal sorcery, melding ancient science and magic from across the realms into her work. Asgard knew her as their greatest physician, and his mother saw her as a trophy—adding her to her collection of talented handmaidens—but he had seen something else entirely.

He knew a girl who was cripplingly afraid of spiders, and who couldn't dance or sing a note. He knew a woman who was far more radiant performing a surgery than dressed for a feast. She liked to collect flowers in a little book, and he made sure she always had the rarest, most stunning petals pressed between the pages. Eir was one of the few who could best him at hnefatafl, and when she would win she would smile brighter than the most radiant goddesses. He had found himself letting her win more often.

And now she was dead in his arms.

He didn't know how long he had sat there, it could have been ages, but he couldn't find the strength to move. Numbness had taken over, his mind racing through the scenes and trying to deny himself the reality. Over and over he tried to convince himself it was fake—that it was another one of Thanos' mind games—but as her body became cold in his arms, he couldn't deny it further. Her pulse had long stopped flickering under his touch, and her eyes had stopped moving under her heavy lids. And as he looked at the red gash that patterned through her neck, he couldn't help but feel self-hatred boil within.

This had been his fault.

Everything he had done had been a mistake; every choice he had made had led to this. He felt his mind slipping, he felt himself falling apart at his poorly mended seams, and he wanted to scream. She had tried so hard to save him—to recover some old aspect of his former self—and had ended up lost in the process. He was as guilty as Thanos-he might as well have drawn the blade himself. For someone who thrived off the desperation of others, he suddenly found himself in that very position, and it was a wretched feeling.

What hope was there for Asgard now? If Thanos fell, he would still be forced to rebuild a devastated realm. And if he someone managed? How could he walk the palace halls and not see the faces of those lost? How could he sit in the gardens and not be haunted? When he looked in the mirror, how could he rationalize his actions? The places he once called home would become gravesites. The light of Asgard would be lost.

But as he set the doctor down on the glittering floor, a small metal spark caught his eye. Tossed in the distance was a small communicator—just like the one that sat in his ear—and suddenly a memory of a frantic call entered his tired mind. Eir had not called him to tell him she was dying; she had called to relay a message.

Looking down at her once more, he pushed a bloodied lock of hair from her face and took the small leather satchel at her side. Upon first glance, it seemed to contain stitching, plants and other medical supplies. There were small, unopened vials of poison that could save him once again—that is, if Thanos was even susceptible to such tricks. But amongst the tools was something else, something far more beautiful and much more painful.

Feeling the tightness in his chest rise once more, Loki closed the small leather bag and stood up quickly. The message she had managed to relay was a war-altering one. While the rest of Asgard had fallen, Odin managed to live on.

And he knew exactly where to find him.

"Are you getting anything?"

"We're trying, Darcy, calm down!"

Eyes remained fixated on the small, glowing screen. Erik and Jane had been inputting data for hours, and with each passing moment she grew more anxious. It was all over the news: Earth's Mightiest Heroes had vanished. They kept flashing their pictures and showing testimonials. New stations touted new information on the Asgardians and continued speculation on what could have happened. There were even disgusting sources that kept saying they were all dead.

It made her want to throw up.

Though she knew it was selfish, she just wanted them back. If Earth was to fall to some tyrannical alien, at least she would have her friends. She wanted Fandral to stare at her with that stupid face of his; she wanted Volstagg to steal the scraps off her plate and Hogun? She just wanted to live long enough to hear him carry a conversation. When Fandral had spoken of her visiting Asgard, she ached to go—she wanted to be in their world like they were in hers—and now…

There were some relationships that left profound impacts, ones that transcended time and conquered death, but she had never believed in them. Those were poetic stories reserved for movies and books; they were saved for those motivational movies on Youtube that made her cry. But in the short time she had known them, the Asgardians had done just that. With each story they had inched their way under her skin, and as she watched their struggles from afar, she found herself rooting for them. They deserved to be happy, not written off as dead on entertainment shows.

"Do you see anything, Stark?"

The voice that rang from the computer was muffled with static, but it was undoubtedly Steve's. It was something.

"We're getting swarmed on the bridge, Cap." Tony replied, his voice breathy with exhaustion. "I'm all alone here. Goldie is flying blind. Literally."

From the corner of her eyes, the college student saw a flash of strawberry blonde run across the room. Pepper had rushed to the computer, her hands shaking as she grabbed the cheap microphone, and put it up to her bitten lips. The woman had been silently crying for hours, trying her hardest to avoid the rumors on the television and the growing dread in the air.

"Tony!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Tony, can you hear me!?"

While it must have only been a few moments, the static that followed felt like an eternity. Pepper's bloodshot eyes danced across the computer screen, watching the small transmission graphs sway and flicker with each passing second.

"Hey, Pep."

With Tony's voice filling the room, Darcy watched Pepper shatter before her eyes. The woman had been marked as one of the strongest in the country. She had been championed as the savior of Stark industries, and her image was synonymous with brilliance and power. But none of that mattered now; she was on the verge of losing the man she loved. Finally, a quiet voice managed to speak.

"Are you alright?"

"Never been better." Tony replied, his voice dripping with a hesitation Darcy prayed Pepper couldn't hear. "Asgard is pretty nice. Think Thor will let us vacation here sometime?"

Though she was still crying, a small smile tugged at the edges of her lips. Relief and gratefulness washed over the woman, her hands no longer shaking and heavy tears no longer falling, but Darcy knew he was lying. Not able to contain herself any longer, the college girl grabbed the microphone from Pepper's hands.

"Is everyone ok?"

In the background, Darcy heard what could only be an explosion of sorts.

"I don't think so." Tony admitted finally, "The lines have gone quiet."

This time it was Darcy who felt hot tears rush down her face.

"What about Fandral?" she asked more urgently, "Volstagg? Hogun?"

When static rang back instead of a voice, Darcy knew the answer. Pepper had grabbed the electronics from her, but the college student's brain was in a fog. She felt like she was drowning, like all the voices and sounds didn't make sense anymore. Nothing felt real; she felt like if she pinched herself hard enough she would wake up. Moving her eyes towards Jane, Darcy felt the last bit of her composure crumble at the physicist's heavy tears. Jane was supposed to be stronger than her.

"Listen, Pep." Tony started once again, "If anything happens…"

The silence cut like a knife.

"Before I left, I put the tower lease in your name." Tony admitted, his voice hitching ever so slightly. "So you can put 'Potts' on the side if you want."

But before he could say anything else, a loud crash screamed through the computer, and the connection was lost in a high-pitched squeal. Pepper's bottom lip began to shake, and her face twisted into one people seldom saw outside of hospitals and funerals. Despite the lies they told themselves, the media had been right. Instead of planning homecomings, they would be planning funerals. Instead of reporting on a victory, a different story would be printed on newspapers across the countries. The heroes didn't win this time.

Loki could feel himself pushing past exhaustion. His feet were running down stone staircases rapidly, twisting along the confusing pathways and spirals that existed far below the palace. Keeping balance against the jagged walls he cringed as his hands became sliced on the cold rock, and a curse left his lips as he almost tripped down the endless stone trail.

Odin had brought him and Thor to the lower reaches of the palace many times as children—teaching them the best hiding spots and the locations of Asgard's most important treasures. Ancient knowledge was written across the rocky walls, and old artwork laced the entrance to forbidden rooms. It was unlike any other place in the palace, the walls were covered with cobwebs and the depths were illuminated by nothing but flames—it felt alien.

But as he neared the end of the precarious path, the room of interest started to come into view. It was not impressive, and any commoner would have passed it without question. Along the door was writing in an ancient language that was long lost to Asgard, and there were crude carvings of Yggdrasil along the handles—but it was exactly where he needed to be. No one would have ever expected this to be the place Odin went to hide.

Running his hands over the small carvings, his hand pushed in on the old wooden button. With a click, the lock opened revealing a magic laced room. At its center was the man himself, his body in the middle of the glittering magic of the Odinsleep. Not able to stop himself, Loki found his hand against the king's throat—the old man's body flung against the rotting wooden walls.

Enraged, Loki growled as a blue eye sprung open to meet his. He didn't know what had provoked it, but something in him had snapped. Though he couldn't place it, the image of Odin lying peacefully in his chamber while all of Asgard fell made his blood boil. Odin had never dared visit him in prison—instead, he had left him to rot while Thor gallivanted across the realms seeking war. The Allfather had done nothing to protect Asgard from the horrors it would face. Instead, the foolish leader slept.

"How dare you lie idly while Asgard dies for you!" Loki spat, his hands shaking against Odin's neck. "Do you truly think yourself above them?!"

Feeling his breath quicken, Loki hissed as Odin simply closed his eye in contemplation. He had an overwhelming urge to make the Allfather suffer—to snap his neck right there and leave the selfish king to rot in Asgard's depths.

"Loki, you—"

"You doomed all of Asgard with your selfish need!" he screamed, unwilling tears leaving his eyes, "You used me!"

He had used all of them. Perhaps in some twisted recess of the Allfather's mind he thought handing the Infinity Gems to untrained, naïve Asgardians was wise. Maybe some part of his twisted logic thought he was saving them from the horrors that were to befall Asgard. Instead, Odin had only given them all an extension on life. Instead, the Allfather had only given him enough time to feel again, and for what? So he could suffer when it was taken away?

"Give me a reason why I shouldn't kill you!" Loki screamed, his focus shattering. "There is not a soul who deserves it more than you!"

Before Odin could answer, long shackled words left the prince's lips.

"You threw me away." Loki continued on, his voice dripping with more emotion than he wanted. "I am not even an Odinson anymore!"

Loki could remember his return to Asgard and how his father had scolded him. He could remember the name Laufeyson rolling off the Allfather's tongue as if it were a curse. He could remember how Odin took everyone away from him—forbade his mother from visiting his prison cell. Though he had spoken the words in anger, Odin had truly turned him into another locked up treasure.

"I hate you." Loki choked out, "I hate you."

To this, Odin lowered his eye.

"You have every reason to." Odin admitted quietly, "I was foolish. I still am."

Loosening the grip on Odin's neck, Loki caught his reflection in the golden eye patch the king wore. The image was one of savagery, one that was truly deranged and bloodthirsty. It was the Loki he saw in his memories, the one that was in the prison pacing like an animal and the one that had sought to kill his brother. It was the same man who had once looked into the eyes of the woman he loved and threw her away for a title. The man in the eye patch was no better than the one he was strangling, and it was a reflection he desperately wanted to lose.

"I hoped that by collecting the stones, I could make everything right." Odin explained quietly. "Make Asgard stronger. Make the realms peaceful again."

The Allfather paused.

"How wrong I was."

There was something in the lone eye of the king. Regret? Sorrow? Loki couldn't place it, but it was there and it was sincere.

"I know not what pain has befallen you, Loki, but I know your mind is clouded." Odin added, his voice heightening as Loki's hand tightened. "You are my son. I know you to be wise enough to see my true purpose here."

Not able to contain a laugh, the prince narrowed his green eyes.

"With my hand upon your throat I am suddenly an Odinson again?" he asked, pain laced in his words. "What happened to you so publicly renouncing my kinship?"

Odin remained quiet.

"Loki Laufeyson." The prince repeated, saying the surname like it was dirty. "Left to die in prison for acts you yourself had done in the past."

Loki could feel his hands shaking once more.

"I had sought to destroy the giants as you once had." He cried, "I had sought to rule over a warring people and bring them peace. Had it not been for mother, you would have had my head. Do not pretend to love me!"

"I do."

Letting go of his grip quickly, Loki growled as Odin's still weakened body hit the floor.

"You do not!" he screamed, "Have you not lied to me enough?"

From the floor, Odin looked up at him with exhaustion. The reflection in the eye patch was still there-craving the blood of the king on his hands. And to Loki's surprise, the Allfather welcomed it.

"If you look beyond your madness, you will see the truth." Odin insisted, his voice hoarse. "I want you to find peace, Loki. If that ends with my death, I will welcome it at your hand."

And with the offer presented, the prince no longer knew what he wanted to do. Odin was weak, and a coward. The Allfather had saved himself at the expense of Asgardians worth far more. Odin had lied; he had stolen and manipulated. He was as deceitful and bloodthirsty as the man Loki saw in his memories. He was an older version of the man he wanted to destroy. And as he found a quick moment of clarity, as he found some small focus beyond his madness, Loki finally knew what to do with Odin.

Thank you everyone for reading! Reviews are always very much loved!

I would like to give a shout out for the awesome fanart yokokoro linked! I think it fits pretty well, too! And Dani, if I could draw better I would have loved to draw Sigyn and Eir...but I fear my talents lie outside of the artistic realm! Also, thank you everyone for the suggestions for the one-shots! A lot of your suggestions lined up with what I was anticipating, so I think I can accommodate most of your requests! :) If you think of any more, I would welcome them! You can also suggest prompts or connect with me on my tumblr :)