AN: Sooo, I really have no business writing something new in Avengers when I have a Bucky/OC story two chapters away from being finished, but here we are. You know how it is when an idea won't leave you alone. But the two stories are not in the same "universe," meaning they're separate and don't have to be read together, since the timelines will be different.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! I'm not sure how active this fandom still is, but here goes everything. This is set before the events of the first Thor, but will soon catch up to Dark World and Ragnarok (and beyond).

A Vow of Silence

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A Grim Prelude

One Year Before the Attack on Midgard

"You truly are an idiot."

Fandral laughed, even though it made the wound below his ribs ooze with his blood. He grimaced, both at the pain, and at his sister's glare.

"Oh Ada, such a face wounds me more than that marauder's spear," he lamented. Always so dramatic.

Ada sighed deeply, measuring him with a flat look. She pulled a shining golden thread from the Soul Forge that already had the shape of his torso and an outline of his wound.

"Now, careful with that. I wouldn't want to lose something I may need for celebrating," he said with a mischievous smile. Still, he watched her cautiously.

Good, she thought, nearly smirking with satisfaction at his obvious wariness.

"You'll lose more than that if you continue running your mouth," Sif remarked. She also sat on a healing table and allowed Lady Eris to work swiftly on a burn injury to her arm. Mistress Mariel herself was seeing to Prince Loki. He didn't seem to have been hurt, beyond some scratches to his face and hands.

Ada couldn't help but glance at him as she began sealing up her brother's wound. He quietly allowed Mariel's fussing of him, though he clearly wasn't injured. Taller than Fandral, he had a lithe figure compared to Prince Thor, who no doubt was already celebrating with Hogun and Volstagg for their victory on Alfheim, their neighboring realm.

"I assure you, Sif. I've had no complaints about my mouth," Fandral quipped, his brow raising indecently. Sif rolled her eyes.

"Remain still," Ada sharply reminded him. It took all her concentration to do the stitch correctly and straight in the first place. Let alone with all his twitching.

In truth, Fandral was a horrible patient. Even as a child, he could never sit still. He also loathed pain, though he would never admit it, even among his fellow warriors who knew him best. Not that they didn't know that just as well.

They had destroyed some rogues from the fiery Muspelheim, who sought to press their advantage against the light elves and their forests there. Ada was envious of Fandral for having seen them. She'd had read much about its beauty and admired the artistic renderings of the great rivers and greater trees and mountains, but it was something else to see it with your own eyes.

"Good work, Ada. Better than usual." Mariel appeared over her shoulder. Ada was long used to it, no longer being startled half as much at her mistress appearing suddenly behind her with scrutinizing eyes. She continued to spread the healing salve over her brother's newly closed wound.

She also ignored Eris's hot gaze burning the side of her face. Ada knew if she were to look over, the other apprentice would only look away as if she'd been stung.

"Administer that salve to the prince's wounds as well," Mariel instructed.

"I have no need of it," Loki spoke. Fandral shot him a glance where Sif didn't bother.

"I won't hear it," Mariel said. "I will not have it said that one of our princes left our Halls without proper attentions."

She gave Ada a pointed look, and she quickly moved to the prince. Her insides filled with nerves to be near him. Fandral had fought beside both princes for so long, and yet this man was still wholly unknown to her. The God of Mischief, and lies, and enigma. She'd heard the stories, of course, but just as in books, words and reality were entirely different creatures.

He watched her then, she thought with some amusement as she stood before him. She bowed her head in respect, and he acknowledged it with a slight nod of his head. His eyes were very green. Focused on her with some intensity. But she could tell he was still aware of what was happening in the room around them.

Sif and Fandral began arguing about who tallied the higher number of rogues on Alfheim, while Mariel was overseeing Eris as they left the Halls, taking away their unused herbs and supplies. Ada could hear it all happening behind her, but she was absorbed by her task. She took some of the salve from a small bowl and applied it first to the cuts and scrapes on Loki's hands.

"As long as you've been attending on royalty, do we intimidate you still?" he asked. His voice sounded kind, but she wasn't sure it was sincere. Everything about him, his words, his movements—all were for a purpose. Always.

His brow rose. "It surely can't be because of me?"

Her hands stilled over his, just for a moment. He was smiling politely, but his eyes held deeper amusement. She looked up at him with a small smile of her own. He was right. It wasn't the first time she had tended to his wounds, however minor, and it likely wouldn't be the last.

Ada avoided his question, instead applying the salve to the scratches along his cheek. Usually she was able to ignore how close she was to someone physically while she treated them, even if they happened to be male. By now, even treating her brother was familiar, if annoying. But at the moment…

"Is it because I'm your prince, or is it…something else?"

She met his eyes, frowning when he looked back at her. As if he knew what she was thinking.

Yet she stayed quiet, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Was it because of his status, or his reputation that she felt so nervous?

"Well, dear sister. I'm off," Fandral hopped off the healing table and went over to her, squeezing her shoulder. "See you tonight!"

"I doubt it. You'll be much too drunk by the time feasting comes," Sif said, smirking at him.

Ada agreed. She shook her head. "It's nothing I haven't seen before. Forgive me if I skip that delightful sight."

Just as she finished with Loki, offering him a smile and bow of her head as he politely gave the same, Fandral laid a warm hand to ruffle her hair. "Oh, don't give me that. An excuse if I've ever heard one!"

Ada quickly ducked away from his touch, flushing with embarrassment. He was treating her like a child in front of the prince, in front of Lady Sif even. But Fandral grinned in the face of her pointed glare.

"You'll not stay in another night while all of Asgard is alive with merriment."

"Your merriment lasts for weeks on end," she quipped back. "I don't have time for—"

"Surely you'll support our victory," Loki said, his words like smooth velvet. She blinked up at him in surprise.

He was a good deal taller than her when he stood, straightening his armor and clothing. She didn't expect him to pay her any mind once her task of treating him was done, which is why she had such a hard time finding anything to say.

"Right then," Fandral said. He took up her hand and laid a kiss with brotherly affection. "Be sure to do something with this hair of yours."

With that last bit of cheek, knowing she wouldn't retaliate with others present, he released her hand and went off with Sif and Prince Loki. She was left alone in the Halls of Healing, simmering with irritation and embarrassment and fondness all at once.

Then she sighed.

I guess I'm going to a party.

The end of her day couldn't have come soon enough. But Ada realized, with some exasperation (and mild apprehension), that it wasn't over yet.

She returned home to find her dearest friend already rooting through her closet.

"What in Hel are you doing, Vira? Who even let you in?"

"I heard Prince Thor is returned, and the feast preparations are already underway. Your brother told me, by the way, to ensure you would actually come as promised."

And Fandral was the culprit. As usual.

Ada sighed. Technically they still shared their family home, but since their mother's death, Fandral had taken to staying elsewhere. With whichever new maiden that happened to catch his fancy.

Vira turned to her, and already her long dark hair was pinned up in curls. She wore silver finery and what looked to be a new dress—flowing in the color of rich pale gold.

Ada rolled her eyes and laid down heavily on her bed. Her back was aching from a day's work, and she was fairly certain she had a headache coming on. "My brother is getting craftier, I'll give him that."

"You're the only one I know who doesn't like parties," Vira said. "And parties at the palace. You're lucky to even be invited, you know."

"You share the same privileges I do," Ada tossed her a knowing look. "Isn't that a lovely dress."

Hands on her hips, Vira twisted to show how it gleamed in the lamplight. She shot Ada a wink. "Unlike you, I enjoy my status. Gods, do I wear it well."

Ada snorted in amusement. "You're right. I couldn't imagine you as a cobbler."

"Hm, yes. Poverty wouldn't agree with me."

"A lesser status doesn't have to mean poverty, Vira."

Her friend paused in her search through the closet and turned to her, uncharacteristically serious. "Anything below nobility is less, my Lady Ada. You'd do well to remember that."

Ada didn't have the energy to argue. She allowed Vira to dress her how she saw fit, and even borrowed from her mother's old collection of jewelry. By the end of it, she could admit to seeing why Vira enjoyed her glittering gowns so much. It would be nice, if just for a while, she could suspend the illusion of the rather plain girl she too often saw in the mirror.

She was uncomfortable.

Surprisingly, not in the finery. Vira's mother Vyda was well known as a superior seamstress in this realm, if not all nine. Even the weight of her mother's rings, golden bracelets and other accessories served to make her feel…well, more of a lady. Her russet brown hair was mostly loose, coiled with some braids Vira had done so painstakingly.

But as Ada watched Prince Thor, her brother and the other warriors eating, drinking, laughing boisterously, reenacting fights with real fists and wrestle that knocked over tables and chairs and ale, she didn't see her place there.

She held a large cup of wine to her lips, hesitating before she drank. Vira wasn't far, dancing with her fourth partner tonight in one of the garden's courtyards. Ada could see her, smiling and gazing up at the man with flirtatious eyes. Her brother Marus was not too far off in a dance with a blonde maiden, rolling his own eyes as his sister's antics.

Ada smiled in amusement. Vira was beautiful, charming, a natural flirt. She didn't know how long this wildness would last, as her father had secured no small number of suitors. But for the time at least, Vira was more or less free to do as she wished at events such as these.

As companions, they couldn't have been more different.

"You seem a bit lost."

She jumped slightly at the sudden voice, though familiar. It served to raise the hairs on her arms and neck as she turned to Prince Loki. Instinctively she dropped into a low curtsey, and the wine tilted out of her cup.

He nimbly stepped out of the way of the drink splashing at his feet, but Ada gasped all the same. "I-I'm so sorry, your Highness! Please forgive me…I'll get something—"

She'd never heard him laugh before, but it was pleasant. He plucked the goblet from her hand.

"I am not so vain that a few drops of wine can deter me," he said, even as his magic was already clearing it from his clothing. She watched it disappear with a wash of green light. His magic was truly seamless.

He looked to a palace servant, who took the empty cup onto their serving tray.

"Care for another?" Loki asked, green eyes shining with amusement. Still flustered, Ada shook her head. Then she remembered herself, lowering her gaze.

"No thank you, my lord," she replied more respectfully. "Clearly I've had more than enough."

His smirk grew, not that she noticed it. But she did when his slender fingers curled around hers. She raised her head, eyes widening.

"Would you like to see something interesting?" he asked.

Ada was realized she was indeed curious, but also suspicious. Looking so directly into his eyes, she found herself growing slightly bolder. "That depends on your definition of interesting."

"I suspect you'll be far more entertained by my definition," he said.

She wasn't so sure. A man like him was capable of…anything really. But the promise of that mischievous gleam in his eye, combined with a charming, if reserved smile, it was just enough to sway her curiosity. For better or worse.

Ada allowed him to lead her from the feast, further into the gardens until the music was faded into the background of noise. She could finally hear herself think, her bracelets clinking together as she walked beside the prince. He still held her hand, and she had to wonder.

Why was he showing any interest in someone like her?

Was it simply curiosity, or was it boredom?

Whatever it was, they came to a short bridge in the garden that extended across a lake. Its waters extended out, slimming into a river that continued on beyond the palace. The stars above them fell on the waters, pale white and beautiful.

Her hand eased out of his as she wandered on and leaned on the stone railing of the bridge. The fires lit for the lamps at the celebration were small, but she could see Prince Thor raising a toast to their victory. Fandral was there with him, likely drinking himself into a stupor.

"Did I really look lost?" she asked. Loki stood beside her, watching the same scene she was.

"You didn't you seem comfortable within the spectacle."

"Not when it lasts an entire month," Ada replied. Then she looked over at him, chastened. "I'm sorry. I know it's meant to celebrate your victory."

"Merely one of many. Like you, I grow weary of the same revelry," he said.

"My friends…and no doubt my brother also. They think I don't appreciate the gift of my station. The luxuries of nobility," Ada admitted. She didn't know why, but perhaps he would understand. He was a prince, meant to carry out the duties of his house and the responsibilities only a member of the royal family could have.

"But I do," she said. "Asgard hasn't always been peaceful, and that peace was won because of the All-Father and those who support him. So I'm also grateful to have found a purpose."

As a woman of nobility, it was rarely the case to find accomplishment outside of marriage. Had her father lived, she was sure he would have chosen a match for her by now. And she had no way of knowing if she would have been agreeable to that husband, or he to her.

In that regard, Ada did appreciate the freedoms that the Halls of Healing afforded her.

"As a healer," Loki supplied.

"Yes." She glanced at his hands, which already showed that his surface-level scratches were fading into nothing. Part of that was surely his own healing abilities, but the medicine she'd applied was infused with a meticulous combination of herbs and magic.

"Watching Fandral, you would never know his fair sister had such a contemplative spirit," Loki said. His amusement was evident, and Ada blushed only slightly at being described as "fair."

She could at least admit, he was a point of fascination for her. It was impossible to know what he was thinking.

"Why consider me at all?" she asked. "As a prince of Asgard, you could have any woman of your choosing."

And she was sure he'd had many, if the stories (and many warnings) she'd heard from Fandral were any indication. Not that Fandral should be one to speak about another man's excessive encounters.

Loki turned to her with a smile. Under his gaze, she felt as if he were assessing her. Piecing together the puzzle of her, just as she was trying to do. Ada suspected he was succeeding far more than her, as his expression turned teasing.

"Surely none of them possess hands as gentle as yours."

Of course, she flushed deeply. Even so, she frowned up at him. That face of his that was still so alluring, even if marred for the moment with fading cuts and scratches from battle.

"If you're charming me for some purpose—"

"Such as?" he interrupted, successfully throwing off the course of her thoughts. Pushing away the promise in his tone for a moment, she was able to continue.

"I hardly know that, do I? Has my brother done something to annoy you?" she asked, a bit irritated herself. If this was some kind of game to raise Fandral's ire, then she'd have no part in it. She didn't care if he was a prince. Suddenly she felt nearly sure that his polite and kind attentiveness as she spoke about herself was all an act. A master of guiles.

"Is it not possible," Loki posed, his eyes gleaming, "that you've simply earned my attention? Even if just for the moment."

Nervousness churned in her belly, especially as he gradually moved closer within her personal space. Her steps brought her back against the bridge's railing. She looked up at the prince, not knowing if her nerves were anxiety or anticipation. His hand brushed over hers, sliding across the inside of her wrist and igniting her skin where he touched.

His eyes captured hers, and she knew then just how many women he had ensnared in such a way. Prince Thor was the more brazen of the two. Like Vira, he had no need for subtlety or pretense. Clearly, this wasn't Loki's way.

He touched her chin, raising it up to him.

"Don't you understand the privilege you hold just now, my lady?" he teased. But she saw his cunning, his confidence, and most evidently his arrogance. He clearly expected her to fall willingly to pieces in his hands, though gods help her, he was nearly succeeding.

A devilish smile played on his lips as they drew near. Until she found the wits to place a firm hand against his chest.

"If it's just for the moment, then why bother at all?" she asked.

Loki paused, gazing down at her as if she were the slowest creature in all the realms. His smile deepened.

"Oh, my dear. Shall I spell it out for you?" He bowed low near her ear, and his rich voice made her shudder against her will. One of his fingers slid underneath the collar of her dress, grazing her skin across the hem to where it led along her shoulder.

"I often grow bored, in need of amusement. It hasn't escaped my notice, how you watch me with the interest of a blushing maiden. So, just this once, I will do you the honor of feeding your curiosity."

Ada did blush scarlet, but her temper sparked with incredulity at the size of his arrogance. Again, she pushed at his chest more firmly until she could look at his face.

"Consider my curiosity satisfied," she snapped, hating how both her voice and her hands shook with nerves. "If you call on me again, I'm sure my brother will have more than words with you."

Loki rolled his eyes. "My, my, that is a threat."

He could see she was serious, however. And if she did speak of it to Fandral, he was sure his brother wouldn't be far behind to attempt to scold him. No doubt he would see it his responsibility to protect this girl's honor on behalf of his friend, despite the hypocrisy of how many conquests Thor himself boasted with the flagrance of a fool.

In any case, Loki decided that quelling his boredom wasn't worth having his brother try to meddle in his affairs. He released her, stepping away with a low chuckle as she immediately straightened her spine and checked that her necklace and clothing were properly settled.

He had surprised her by pulling away, he noticed. Ada stared at him with confusion and even some conflict in her deep gray eyes. She was obviously attracted still. It was there, just beneath her irritation and rightful wariness. She was innocent, but unlike most other women that would have succumbed all too easily to him, she was intelligent enough to heed her instincts.

That rarity alone almost changed his mind. He found himself wanting to pursue that defiant streak, and see how long it would take to have her come apart at his touch.

But raised voices coming near broke the spell of their shared gaze, as Thor himself came with four goblets of ale, two in each hand as he drank from them sloppily. One he shoved in Loki's hands.

"Brother! Where've you been? I've been looking for you," he said. To his credit, his feet were mostly steady.

Ada took in a deep breath as she held onto the ledge beside her for support, once Loki's intense gaze finally left her. She only saw the back of his head as he was pulled along across the bridge. He didn't even look back.

"Ada? What're you doin' here?" Fandral slung a heavy arm around her shoulders. He was more than drunk, and for that matter, his breath nearly made her gag. Hogun dragged him over to him before his weight made her stumble.

"Many thanks," she told him breathlessly.

"You should get home soon, my lady. Would you like me to accompany you?" Hogun asked. He was a kind man, and Ada found she liked him well. She was grateful that he watched over her reckless brother.

"No, but thank you. I'll be fine," she said.

And she was, for the most part. As Ada made the short journey home from the palace, she wasn't concerned for Vira. Marus was there for her, and even so, she could (and would) take care of herself. More than this, Ada was lost in her thoughts. She berated herself for being such a fool.

She'd almost had a tryst with the Prince of Mischief.

But she couldn't know what this night would become. In light of all that followed, it was only a grim prelude for the end of everything she'd come to know. Herself included.