Phil came in a few days later to find Loki seated on the couch, staring pensively into some middle distance. This wasn't all that uncommon, so he wasn't too worried. He sat down next to him and waved a hand in front of his eyes.

"You alive?" he asked.

"I shall be long after your bones turn to dust," Loki said, not blinking.

"Thinking long thoughts again," Phil said. It was not a question, so Loki did not feel compelled to answer. "Have you started teaching Judah about potions yet?"

"Not yet. I promised him I would start after he finished all of his regular homework assignments for this week. He's done with everything except his reading. He wasn't too keen on the book I assigned, it seems."

"What did you assign?" Phil asked.

"Die Verwandlung, by Franz Kafka."

"Say what?" Phil said.

Loki rolled his eyes. "The Metamorphosis."

"Oh. That's… pretty heavy reading for an eight-year-old, don't you think?"

"It's only fifty-five pages."

"Are you at least letting him read it in English?"

"Of course. I'm not cruel."

Phil sat quietly for a moment, then said, "What would an eight-year-old even get out of a book like that?"

"Nightmares, apparently," Loki said. "I don't know at this point whether it would be better to let him skive off or make him finish it so it's behind him. It doesn't have a happy ending, so… yeah…"

"I don't know if you're aware of this, but mortals usually save Kafka for the college years," Phil said.

"You do seem to have a low opinion of your childrens' intelligence, but if it frightens the boy he shouldn't read it I suppose. I'll give him something lighter to take his mind off of it."

"Like what? 'The Pit and the Pendulum'?" Phil said, smiling crookedly.

"An excellent suggestion."

"I never know if you're serious," Phil said, shaking his head sadly.

"He doesn't have time left this week for anything long or complicated. I'll let him read something he enjoys. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, perhaps. He can read that one a million times."

"He can finish that before the weekend?" Phil said.

"Coulson, Judah can devour that in an hour. Of course, once his reading is done, I shall have to keep my promise."

"Not too keen on doing that, are you?" Phil said.

"I never thought I had the required temperament to be a teacher," Loki said.

"You do all right teaching Judah his reading, writing, and 'rithmetic," Phil pointed out.

"Magic, even on a basic level… requires a much higher degree of skill and patience…"

"Maybe so, but you're always saying you're the best thing to ever sling a wand," Phil said. "You've got this. And besides, it's just a few potions."

"For now, perhaps. But supposing Judah does decide to pursue magical education?"

Phil shrugged. "If you don't think you're up to it, you could always have Doctor Strange teach him."

Loki made a rude noise. "Strange may be your 'Sorcerer Supreme' but he's really no more than a student himself. He's not worthy to teach my son."

"Well… who taught you?" Phil asked.

Loki looked at him in shock. "Me? I attended the Imperial Academy of Magical Arts."

"I AM A?" Phil said.

"Shut up. Suffice to say it's the single most prestigious center of magical learning in the multiverse. Sometimes it pays to be an Odinson."

"Could Judah go there?" Phil said.

A look of intense pain crossed Loki's features, just for an instant. "One semester is longer than Judah's expected lifespan. He'd probably be dead before the waitlist for entry came around to him."

Phil's face fell. "Oh…"

Loki sat silently for a long moment, staring off into that middle distance, then, slowly, said, "Of course, if he lived in Asgard… there is a way of extending his lifespan…"

"There is?" Phil said, eyeing him sharply. "By how much?"

"As much as any god."

"Well, that's good," Phil said, drawing the words out long and slow. "What is this way? It's not… painful… is it?"

"Not at all. But it requires Odin's permission."

Phil relaxed. "Well you're set, then."

Loki shook his head. "Odin has never given that permission once in all his years."

"But… this is his grandson. Surely he would give it now."

"You don't know Odin. To call him a hardliner is to put it lightly. He does not believe that immortality is a gift to be handed out, no matter to whom. Mortal races aren't prepared to 'deal' with it, he says."

"He might have a point," Phil said cautiously. "I can't imagine being alive as long as you've been alive. I think it would drive me nuts."

Loki shook his head. "I'm not very old, Coulson," he said.

"Maybe not in your terms, but good lord, you're older than human history!"

"And just imagine all the amazing things I've seen in that time, Coulson – all the things I've been able to do!"

"And it's not like it's seemed to have had any effect on you or anything," Phil said, with an astonishing amount of sarcasm for him.

Loki's face clouded over and Phil was momentarily worried that he was about to get zapped with some sort of magic, despite Loki's proclaimed aversion to using it. But then the god's face cleared and he just looked sad. "I've had… experiences… most gods haven't," he said. "You can't take me as the base line."

"You've… skirted the edges of those experiences in the past," Phil said, still stepping cautiously, careful not to go too far. "I can tell it hurts. Sometimes it helps to talk about it, you know?" Phil didn't expect the man to talk, he rarely did, and always got defensive if pushed to do so, but this time he was surprised.

"You're… a soldier, of sorts," Loki said, making an odd sideways gesture with his head that was not quite a toss and not quite a shrug. "You know how that can be."

Phil had expected, if anything, for Loki to make some tirade about how Daddy had loved Thor more than him. This was unexpected, to say the least.

"Are you saying you had a… a 'bad war?'" he said, still trying to be cautious.

"There's no such thing as a good one, Coulson. But in Asgardian philosophy you fight until you die, and if you're wounded you bear your scars with pride. I didn't, and I can't, and therein is my shame."

"Wh-whaddya mean?" Phil said through a dry mouth. His tongue seemed to be sticking to the roof of it.

"Just what I said, Coulson."

"You… deserted?"

Now he did get zapped by something, something fiery, and he realized his jacket was aflame. He leapt to his feet and stripped it off, dropped it to the floor, and stomped it out, heart pounding.

"No! Nothing so vile as that!" Loki fairly shouted. "But… almost as bad."

Phil sank back into a chair. "What did you do?" he said.

Loki heaved a deep breath. He appeared to be girding himself for something terrible. "I was… captured."

Phil felt conflicting emotions. Relief, that he wasn't hearing of some horrible act of treason. Horror, that he may be about to hear of terrible acts committed against this man before him. Confusion, as to why Loki seemed to think this was in any way a reflection against him.

"I don't understand," Phil said, choosing to act on his confusion. "Why is that a reflection on you?"

Loki looked at him as though he were crazy. "I told you. In Asgard, you're expected to fight to the death. They don't give you a cyanide capsule but they're pretty damned adamant about it all the same. Being captured is a great shame."

"How did they manage to capture you anyway?" Phil said, thinking to boost the god's ego. "By the sounds of things, you were the hottest Imperial Battlemage Asgard had ever seen. It must have been tough for them."

Loki sighed again. "A member of my battalion turned coat and gave the enemy information about our movements, numbers, et cetera. They were very keen to get their hands on me. I thought at first it was just to put me out of commission as the Battlemage but as it turns out they were quite aware I was Odin's son. They wanted me as a royal hostage."

"So how did they get you? Numbers?" Phil said.

"They had them, definitely," Loki said, now staring at the toes of his boots. "But no, they got me by negotiation."

"What do you mean?"

"They had all of my teammates on the mage's squad down on their knees with swords at their throats and power dampening shackles around their wrists, and told me that they'd kill them if I didn't come quietly," Loki said, in a small voice. He spread his hands. "I did what they wanted."

"So you had no choice," Phil said. "It's not your fault. It's not your shame."

Loki made that odd toss/shrug gesture with his head again. "Can't prove that. After they got me out of there, they killed all my mates anyway."

"Didn't Heimdall see it?" Phil said, swallowing the dry lump in his throat.

"Yes, but there's a far cry from what he sees and what people want to believe, and I've never been much liked or trusted."

"I suppose once they had you they… didn't treat you very well…"

"I suppose they didn't," Loki said.

"Did Odin negotiate your release?"

"No. Odin does not negotiate with those who use terrorist tactics."

"How did you get out of there then?"

"Thor eventually got tired of waiting for Odin to act and acted himself. He rescued me, with his usual head-busting panache. I was in their hands for the better part of an Asgardian year. Not long, by our standards, but…"

"But eight thousand fucking years by ours," Phil said, awed in a very bad way.

Loki raised a hand and waved it as though brushing the past away. "That was all a thousand Asgardian years ago. I shouldn't let it bother me any longer, as Thor keeps reminding me, but some things are hard to let go of."

"You have PTSD. You don't just 'let go' of that," Phil said. "You need help."

"That's what mother keeps telling me," Loki said. "She's always pushing me to spend time in one of our sanitariums, as I did when I first came home. But those places are useless. Saunas and massages and incense and 'clearing the mind' – I couldn't empty my mind when there was nothing more on it than the next prank to pull."

Phil raised an eyebrow to what remained of his hairline. "If it were me, I'd be keen to go to a place like that even if there were nothing on my mind."

"Then you go."

Phil tried to think of a retort, but before he could come up with something suitable, Judah came in from the hall outside. He dropped his bookbag and waved. "Hi, Uncle Phil!" he said brightly.

"Hey, Judah. Where've you been?" Phil said.

"Earth History," Judah said. "Dad says he's running out of knowledge on the subject so Mr. Stark offered to teach me."

"Which means his 'butler' is doing it," Loki said.

"Yeah," Judah said. "I had my first lesson with him today. Jarvis sure knows a lot!"

"He should," Loki said, an ironic look on his face. "He's a computer with full internet access."

"How's your schooling going, do you think?" Phil asked.

"Good!" Judah said. "I enjoy it! But I'm looking forward to learning some magic."

"What do you think of the books your Dad gives you to read?" Phil said, not quite casually.

A moue of something, consternation perhaps, flickered on Judah's face. "Some of them are kind of dark, but I like them okay."

Loki shook his head, his eyes rolled heavenward. "He was fine with the entirety of the Harry Potter books, which are about as dark as it gets towards the end," he said. "Judah, you don't have to finish Die Verwandlung. Read something you enjoy, just be sure you read something, so we can discuss it on Monday."

Judah's face brightened again. "Cool! I think I'll read The Little Prince, is that okay?"

Loki shared a look with Phil. "That one is… actually pretty dark, too, Judah," he warned.

"But it's about a prince, right? Like you."

"Actually… I think the little prince is more like you, Judah."

"I'm not a prince," Judah said.

"Yes you are," Loki said. "You're my son. That makes you a prince."

Judah considered. "I… never really thought of that. Wow."

"Don't go getting big-headed. If you want to read that book you may, but do not say you were not warned. If nothing else, it's rather sad."

"Can't be as bad as The Metamorphosis, can it? I mean, a giant bug," Judah said, shivering.

Loki smiled a little. "No, it's probably not as bad as Die Verwandlung."

Judah danced to the bookshelf and started reading titles 'til he found the right one. "I'll get this read by tonight!" he said happily. "Then you'll start teaching me potions, right, Dad?"

"Right, Judah," Loki said, sounding resigned and slightly amused. "First thing tomorrow, if you get your reading done."

"I'll start right now! Love you, Dad! Bye, Uncle Phil!" And he dashed off to his room to read, slamming the door behind him in his eagerness.