Fandom: Avengers

Character(s): Thor | Loki | Hela

Pairing(s): mentions of past Thor/Jane

Warning(s): AU, references to Odin's A+ parenting, spoilers for Thor: Ragnarok

"HELA, DAUGHTER OF JORD!"

Loki's scream echoed down the hallway, cutting through the residual ringing in Thor's ears (Hela was much, much stronger than she looked.) and bringing him back to full awareness. He rubbed the back of his head gingerly and clambered back to his feet, ready to jump right back into the struggle.

Except that it wasn't much of a struggle anymore. The Einherjar was still pinned to the wall, barely conscious by now - a substantial trickle of his blood staining the tapestry crimson, Hela's hand still locked around his throat.

Loki stood at her elbow, spine stiff and posture wary, both hands empty and raised in a gesture of peace. "You are in Asgard, sister." He said slowly, distinctly, no longer screaming, each syllable measured as if cutting wires in a bomb. "The Eternal City, golden crown of the realms."

Thor's heart pulsed in his throat. Loki was too close (too close!) to Hela. At that range, their sister could stab him right through...or lop off his head...or...or...

But Hela did nothing of the sort. She just stood there, shaking slightly, and (wonder of wonders!) Thor suddenly realized that she was listening to Loki; hanging on the Trickster's every word, her limbs frozen, her hand still around the Einherjar's neck, her weapon still poised and ready to strike - but not struggling, not lashing out, not fighting.

"...Asgard." She whispered, drawing in a deep breath, eyes flicking back and forth wildly. "Asgard."

"Yes." Loki wasn't screaming anymore; his voice had gone soft and deep - soothing, almost the tone he had always used for Sleipnir and the other horses in the stable; gentle, like the manner he usually reserved for their mother; beguiling, in the very same way that he drew his enemies in like an angler playing a fish. "Asgard. You are safe, sister."

"Safe." Hela murmured, loosening her grip on the guard. (He let out a pained gurgle.) "Loki. My...brother. Odin's son." Thor could actually see her world slowly re-orientating itself. She drew in a deep breath and half-turned her body, looking back at the pinned Einherjar...

...and that's when Loki struck. Like a snake, out of nowhere, his conciliatory illusion vanishing in a blur of green-gold magic as the real Loki leaped out of the shadows and buried both his knives deep in Hela's shoulder, effectively paralyzing her arm.

With a shrill shriek, Hela released the guard - not that she had a choice - and toppled backwards to land in Loki's arms, eyes wide with shock and pain. Then a raspy chuckle forced its way out of her throat and she dropped her weapon. "Well played, little brother." She said, then - with a grunt - jerked her entire body, using the momentum to topple Loki over, and flipped a leg up over his throat, pinning him to the ground with her knees. She leaned forward, pressing all of her weight down on his sternum. "What were you the god of again?"

Loki smiled in her face, his expression all teeth. "Mischief, Chaos, and Lies." He purred, then suddenly he was blurring, shrinking, changing and a small black weasel clawed its way out from under Hela's hold to run a distance down the hallway before morphing back into Loki's tall form.

Hela stared, then suddenly sat down on the floor with a bump and burst into mad laughter, clutching at her wound with her uninjured hand.

Thor shook his head and pulled the Einherjar down from the wall. Under normal circumstances (and given what sort of foe Hela undeniably was) he would be shoving Loki behind him and going for her face with his hammer...but this was hardly a battle.

This was a madhouse.

And, for once, Loki wasn't the main event.

Looking somewhat disturbed, Loki glanced over his sister's shaking head and eyed the injured guard in Thor's arms. "Is he dead?" The Trickster called.

"No." Thor carefully laid the Aesir flat on the floor and straightened out his limbs. "Send for Lady Eir...assuming you haven't charged her with treason along with Heimdall."

Loki made an odd sound (part scoff, part sigh), before he turned and stalked away down the hallway, leaving Thor alone with Hela and her victim. The Goddess' laughing fit had quieted now, as suddenly as it began, and - from what Thor could see - her face had gone distant and thoughtful.

Feeling very much out of his depth, he pressed down hard around the lance sticking out of the guardsman's abdomen, trying to staunch the bleeding, and kept a close eye on his sister's every breath.

By Odin's beard.

The day had only just begun!

Lady Eir was far from happy when she arrived on the scene. She ordered her assistants to cart the wounded guardsman into Frigga's room and laid him on the bed, glaring darkly at Loki as if daring the Trickster to object.

(Loki wisely did not.)

Hela watched dispassionately as the healers fluttered around, casting diagnostics and selecting healing stones. She rubbed her shoulder once or twice and winced, but other than that gave no sign that she even remembered the whole fight had happened.

Thor stood guard by the door, watching warily as the Goddess of Death sat down stiffly on a sofa and (grudgingly) let one of the assistant healers examine her shoulder. The wound Loki inflicted was already clotted and scabbed over and all but healed, Thor could see - and the healer smeared some thick unguent onto the scarred site with the observation that. "It should be as new by sundown, milady."

"Your Highness." Hela corrected, pulling away from the woman's touch.

"Sorry?"

"You should be, addressing a Princess of Asgard like that." Hela's voice was cold as she reached over with her good arm and smoothed her cloak back down, somehow managing to look down her nose even though she was seated much lower than her addressee. "It's Your Highness or High Commander."

Nonplussed, the healer looked to Thor for an explanation.

He shrugged helplessly, swinging Mjolnir back and forth in his hands to let off some nervous energy. Because he had promised Hela that he would reinstate her as Princess of the Realms, though there were several things that he had to take care of before he could make it official. (Things like making some sort of announcement to the court to explain her presence and claim to the title...and figuring out how to explain away why, within twenty-four hours of her arrival in Asgard, she had sent two of the golden city's warriors to the Healing Halls.)

At that thought, Loki's words from last night echoed through Thor's mind. "Whoever she is, whatever she did, it was vile enough for the All-Father to both imprison her and wipe her very existence from the minds of all Asgard."

Thor looked at Hela, sitting pale and still on the sofa, her fingers twitching spasmodically in her lap as her injured shoulder knit its nerves back together and control slowly returned to the limb. Her attack had been violent; crazed; completely out-of-the-blue and irrational. Was this the 'violent appetite' their father had described?

Thor thought about the look that had flickered across Hela's face when she saw the Einherjar in the door. What had she seen to so frighten her?

(For fear it had been; raw terror burning even amidst the hatred.)

Thor didn't know what to do about it. Just like he didn't know what to do with Loki. He was tired (so tired) of being stabbed in the back; of being played for the fool. But somehow, time and time again, he just kept stumbling into the traps. Maybe it would be easier if he could just stop caring.

But that was impossible.

He'd tried.

He'd tried so hard, over two years ago when he'd brought Loki back to Asgard, chained, muzzled, and defeated. He'd just handed the Trickster over to the guards without saying a word, and then gone and drank himself into oblivion, trying to erase any memory of finding his brother from his mind. It had been easier to pretend that Loki had remained lost; that the creature wearing his face and sitting in his cell was someone (or something) else. It had proved less painful to remember Loki as the prince who had been struck down in valiant battle against Jotunheim - the story Odin told the rest of Asgard after Loki's fall - than to look at the spiteful, bitter version of his brother rotting in the dungeons.

And so Thor hadn't attended the trial.

Or visited his brother.

Or even acknowledged the Trickster's presence until the day they went to Svartalfheim...and the rest was history.

He glanced at Loki, sitting silent and pensive on the steps beside Thor's legs. Loki was staring at Hela with a cautious attention, twirling a dagger between his fingers in readiness, all his muscles tensed as if preparing for another battle.

"Loki..." Thor shifted and cleared his throat. "Are you all right?"

Loki blinked, glanced up at Thor with a surprised frown, then looked away. "Yes, of course." He shrugged and tossed his dagger into the air, catching it with a deft hand. "I've seen feasts end in larger brawls." His voice was dismissive; offended, even - in the manner of a cat dunked in water - and the reaction was so typical (so Loki) that it almost brought a nostalgic smile to Thor's face.

Satisfied, he gave Mjolnir another twirl...then stopped suddenly and stared. "Brother." He growled, taking a step closer to Loki's sitting form.

"What?" Loki didn't even look up.

Clenching his teeth, Thor thrust the hammer (the very shiny, very green hammer) in front of the Trickster's nose. "Fix it."

Loki went slightly cross-eyed as he looked over the weapon hovering in front of his face. Then he smirked. "I see no problem in need of repair, My King." His tone was light, but there was - as usual - a cutting edge to the words.

"Loki."

Loki opened his mouth to answer, but suddenly snapped to attention and looked towards the bedchamber. Lady Eir was coming down the steps, drying her hands on a cloth, and looking very solemn.

"My princes." She said. "Might I have a word?"

"Will he live?" Thor nodded in the direction of the guardsman's sickbed.

Eir pursed her lips. "He is likely to make a full recovery." She said. "In body, at least. I am glad to see you've not forgotten your field training, my lord. However, there is something I would speak with you about."

"Of course."

"In private." The Head Healer's eyes flicked over in Hela's direction.

Thor sighed, suddenly feeling very weary. "Of course."

TBC...