Yeah! Super quick update! For someone who has trouble writing quickly I am really pleased with myself :D The reason for the quickness (is that a word? It doesn't sound right…) is that I'm off on holiday for the next two weeks without my laptop, so won't be able to write a darn thing unfortunately. This means that there are the two weeks where I can't write and then another week – maybe longer – for me to scribble down the next bit. I'm really sorry but this means at the very least (unless I become super quick all of a sudden, and hey, miracles do happen!) it will be three weeks before the next update.
I'm sorry guys, but here's a surprisingly long and extra soon chapter to make up for it! I do think about you all, after all!
Love and hugs to everyone; and thank you so much for all of your support! I will try to reply to all the reviews, but again it will be a few weeks before I can access them.
Until then, Allonsey!
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Everything was a blur.
Tony felt like he was just standing there whilst the universe rushed past him at speed. The observatory was suddenly full of people; from the white robes and calm voices he assumed they were doctors – or what Thor had named 'healers'. They had taken Loki from Odin's arms and laid him out on a stretcher brought with them, still wrapped in the cloak. He wasn't moving now, and Tony suspected that he had lost consciousness at some point. It was a small mercy – the trickster would have hated knowing that everyone could see him so weak and helpless.
Odin had pulled Thor aside and issued him with a handful of simple orders as the healers took charge of their patient. Clint was standing to one side, his face-plate up and looking awkward in the armour that he didn't know how to remove.
And Tony just stood there, only partially armoured now, letting everything happen around him in the blur of motion that it seemed to be. He realised that he felt exhausted, drained.
"My friend, are you alright?" Thor's voice was uncharacteristically quiet as he slowly approached the man. He moved like someone advancing on a frightened animal – slow, calm and unassuming.
"I don't even know." His voice sounded alien to him, like a detached limb. He really didn't know if he was alright. Everything was just…so much.
They had found Loki. He was alive. And so so injured as to be unbelievable. They had just visited a planet at the other end of the universe and now stood in Asgard, home of the Gods of pagan lore.
Tony probably wasn't 'alright'.
There was an arm around his shoulders – heavy, suggesting that Thor was as exhausted as he was – and the realness of it helped somewhat to pull him back into the here-and-now.
"Come, Father has asked that you and Clint be taken to the healers as well."
"What? Why? I want to stay with-"
"You are in no condition to argue, Tony. You both need food and rest." Thor was gently steering him towards the exit of the observatory and the inventor didn't have much choice other than to allow it. "We've been gone nearly ten hours."
They had? He honestly couldn't understand where all that time had gone. Thor did have a point, though. Food was beginning to sound good, and sleep even better. However, there were other things preying on his mind too.
"But what about Evie? We have to tell her! I've got to go home and tell her."
"I'll do it. You could not handle another Bifrost journey right now, and I do not believe Clint could either. I will see to it that the two of you are properly looked after, then I shall go back to Earth and inform the others."
That hurt quite a bit. Tony had wanted to see the look on his daughters face when she heard the news, had wanted to celebrate it with her. Unfortunately he was more than smart enough to know that Thor was right; there was no way in hell he could go through the Bifrost back home at this point – every fibre in his body was screaming in protest at the very thought of it. So instead he turned to his other argument.
"I want to stay with Loki."
Thor gave him a look that was part amusement and part exasperation. "You think I do not? There is nothing more we can do for him right now and we would only be in the healers' way if we tried. He is unconscious, and they need to do their work."
"But what if-"
The God stopped and placed both hands on the man's shoulders, pulling Tony round to face him. "He's going to live, Tony. I know it looks bad, but he is a god, and even these injuries will not kill him. He will live."
"But…"
"Tony. Do you really think he would have endured this long if he was not capable of surviving such treatment? The worst is over; now he can heal."
Tony nodded slightly, refusing to meet the thunder God's over-bright gaze. "I don't want him to wake up alone…"
"I will arrange for someone to fetch you when it seems that he is awakening."
Well…Tony still didn't like it. Scratch that, he hated it! But if Loki's own brother could see reason and stay away long enough for the doctory-healing people to do their jobs then he supposed he should be an adult about it as well, as much as it went against the grain.
"Yeah. Okay yeah." He slumped as much as the remaining armour would allow, and that reminded him that he had carelessly discarded the gloves and helmet. "Where did my stuff go?"
"Here." Clint was behind them, hanging back enough not to intrude, but came forwards when he heard the question. The Ironman gear was snug in his arms.
The three left the observatory and stepped out onto the Bifrost. It was night-time and unfamiliar constellations were winking down at them. Far ahead in the distance a citadel gleamed with the many lights of night-time candles. Clint groaned.
"Oh God, that's got to be at least a mile and a half! Do we have to walk that?"
Not an appealing thought.
There were horses tethered to the outside of the observatory and Thor made to move towards them, but Tony grabbed his arm.
"Hell no to the live-stock." He took the rest of his armour off of Clint and pulled it back on. "We're flying. I hate horses."
"Tony-"
"No, I'm not being talked out of this one." He grinned when Thor sighed and nodded.
The flight itself was brief. Clint had a decent eye for distance and it had measured out at just over a mile and a half to reach the city. Thor had had to carry the archer piggy back, which would have made Tony laugh if he hadn't so much else on his mind.
Thankfully since it was so late there were no more than a handful of guards around the place to stare curiously at the two mortals that Thor led into the inner bowels of the palace. The room he led them to was apparently alongside the 'infirmary', what Tony believed to be the Aesir equivalent to a hospital. He appreciated it though – since it meant that he was close to Loki. Admittedly Thor had reasoned that he wanted them to be near so that the healers could make sure the two of them were rested and fed properly. Tony had a lingering suspicion that the God was still worried about the near-heart attack he'd had when they'd first reached the planet, so didn't begrudge him the thought.
The room was lavish – well it would be since it was inside the palace – but simply furnished. Maybe Tony had been expecting some sort of Viking long-house, but if it had to be likened to any sort of human architecture then it would be Tudor, not Viking. All high ceiling beams and pleasant contrasts between white plaster and aged wood. There was a small table with a couple of matching chairs and two twin beds pushed against either wall. Everything was warm and inviting. Sconces lined the walls, lighting everything in a warm glow.
"Not bad…" Clint took his helmet off and placed it down on one of the beds.
Thor smiled slightly at the reaction. "Eat and sleep, I will be back in a few hours."
They did just that. Tony showed Barton how to remove the rest of the armour before slumping down on one of the beds.
"You should eat." Clint already had his mouth full of bread when he frowned at his friend. He held out the second plate that had been on the table, piled high with various foods, most of which were recognisable. "At least a little."
Tony picked up an apple and his stomach growled at him. He hadn't thought food would appeal after what they had witnessed on that distant planet, but relief at having Loki safe brought back more of an appetite than he would have thought.
The beds were soft and it wasn't long before both men were fast asleep – the plate slipping from Clint's hand to the floor with a dim thud.
It was the first time in seven years that Tony didn't dream of anything.
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Thor's arrival in the main room of Stark Tower was no less dramatic than last time, but he managed to avoid breaking another window. Natasha, Bruce and Evie had been in the adjacent kitchen watching TV but came running in when they heard him.
"What did-?"
"We've found him! He's alive!" The blonde God swept his niece up in his arms and, as big as she was, swung her around in a circle. "He's alive!" He then grabbed hold of Bruce and Natasha so that the four of them were in one giant bear-hug.
Evie seemed to get the message on the second repeat and screamed, throwing her arms around Thor's neck in return.
"Thor! What on Earth…?" Steve had entered as well and was immediately snatched up into the group-hug.
"We've found Loki. He lives!"
"He's alive?!"
Thor seemed giddy on endorphins and only a moment away from tears. "Yes! My brother!" He released the others in favour for swinging Evie around again.
"Is he okay? Where're Tony and Clint?"
It took a few more repeats of the question before the God heard and finally put his niece down in favour of slumping onto a sofa.
"Tony and Clint remain in Asgard. They were exhausted and needed rest. Loki…" Thor glanced at Evie. "Loki will be alright." There was enough of a clue in his gaze to let the others know that he was holding information back.
"You're sure? He won't die?" The girl's question was laced with worry, but Thor smiled gently at her.
"He won't die. You have your Möðhy back, Evelyn."
Evie bit her lip hard, eyes welling up tellingly. Bruce noticed the warning signs and smiled, motioning her over. For all her fourteen years, she was still young enough to appreciate a hug when it was offered in such situations, and crawled onto the sofa next to Bruce so that he could loop an arm around her.
"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay." The scientist pulled her close as she began to sob, curled up so that her face was pressed into his shoulder.
"I know, I'm j-j-just h-h-happy…I thought we were n-never going to f-f-find him!"
"I know, I know." Bruce rubbed her back. "But they've got him now. It's all okay."
Evie glanced up at Thor tearfully. "I w-want to see him, can I g-g-go back to Asgard with you?"
The God smiled at her. "Not just yet; I want to talk things over with your father first, but soon you can. And then you will be a family again."
"Family…I've g-got a family. I've got m-m-my Möhðy b-back."
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Tony didn't know how long he slept for.
The bed was warm and soft and although the pillows were stiffer than he would have liked he still slept like the dead. There were no dreams, no emotions, no nothing. Just blessed sleep.
He was woken by a gentle hand on his arm, enough of a pressure to make him stir without inciting any fear or confusion. Clint was already sitting on top of the covers of his own bed, flicking through a book, but glanced at him with a wan smile.
"Mr Stark?" The woman who had woken him was wearing white robes. Tony sat up hurriedly.
"Is Loki okay?!"
"Yes, Mr Stark. But he appears to be waking and Prince Thor asked that I summon you in such an event."
"Yeah. Yeah, thanks." He rubbed his eyes and pulled himself out of bed, glad that he'd not been bothered to take any clothes off. "We're going now?"
The healer seemed to look down on his attire somewhat, but nodded all the same. Clint waved him off and they left the small chamber for the infirmary.
The place was nothing like a human hospital.
It was full of warm golden light, big and welcoming. It was the sort of place you'd be glad to wake up in if injured or ill. There were no intrusive beeping machines or sterile smells.
It was peaceful.
Tony realised he far preferred it to human ideas.
Loki was in a private room, laid out in a bed similar to the ones Clint and Tony had just slept in; wooden framed, soft and inviting. It was a far cry to the hard-mattressed, steel things hospitals favoured.
However, Tony had eyes for nothing but the God under the covers.
The years of blood and grime had been carefully washed away, leaving taut white skin that showed up the scars accumulated over the time. Bandages almost fully covered Loki's face, wrapping up his empty eye-sockets and the ruined cavern where his nose had rested before extending round the back of his head so that the holes where his ears should have been were covered.
Both arms lay above the covers, as thin as sticks and every badly twisted bone visible. The right ended in a neatly bandaged stump, covering up both the brutal amputation and the wide hole that had allowed the chain to pierce his wrist.
He looked like a child had smashed a china doll and then tried to glue it back together. Or, darker still, the thick knots of scar tissue that littered every part of him that Tony could see (and no doubt everywhere he couldn't see too) were horrifically reminiscent of Frankenstein's Monster.
"Will…Will he be okay?" The man asked quietly. The healer motioned for him to sit in the chair beside the bed and he did so gladly.
"We don't know how well his recovery will progress yet." The woman answered. "It is complex, especially given that he is not Aesir, and that many of the wounds have already healed, albeit wrongly."
"Can't you, I don't know, just use magic? Why isn't his magic healing him?"
"His magic is being blocked at the moment. He has been without it for so long that it would be fatal to return it all at once; the shock to his body would be too great, even if he were in perfect health. We intend to feed his magic back to him slowly, directing it to heal him as we go."
Tony nodded slightly, frowning. "He mentioned once that his magic can't heal wounds the chitauri caused."
"We are aware. We will work our own Aesir magic along with his to assist the healing process."
That made sense, he supposed.
"How injured is he?" He whispered. The look he received in answer was sympathetic.
"I think you know well that it is not good." She reached into her robes and pulled out a piece of parchment. "We wrote down an assessment for his father when he came to visit. You may read it if you wish. The Allfather gave his permission for you to be accorded the same privileges as a family member."
That was…humbling actually. Tony really hadn't realised how much of an impression he'd had on the King, and then how much of that was from over-exaggerated stories Thor had told.
The healer left, which surprised him. He'd assumed that since they seemed to think Loki was waking up – not that he'd seen any evidence of that yet – they'd be all over him, much like human doctors. However, apparently the trickster was as stable as he could be, and they had deemed it more important for Tony to be with him.
The man carefully unrolled the scroll that had been handed to him – surprised to realise that he was so caught up in the situation he hadn't even given it a second thought that he'd allowed her to hand it like that. It was written in English, which was odd, and he wondered if that's what the God's used or if it had been done for his benefit.
It was also written for the benefit of someone who didn't know medical terminology. Phrases leapt out, annoyingly vague; Broken bones: multiple. Dehydration. Malnutrition.
'Malnutrition' was a bloody understatement; Loki really did look like he had been pulled out of Auschwitz.
Organ removal evident: one lung, two thirds of liver, two kidneys, twelve foot of small bowel, portion of colon, bladder, testes, gall bladder, spleen, both pancreas', epiglottis, portion of second stomach, portion of first stomach, uterus, ovaries, both eye balls, ears including inner ear, tongue, nose, various lymph nodes, various major veins and arteries, various bones and tendons.
They really had pulled him apart.
Even through the horror, the little scientist always awake in the back of Tony's brain noted the specific mentions of two stomachs and more than the normal number of kidneys. He stamped the voice out – like he cared for comparative anatomy right now!
Loki stiffened slightly, drawing his attention, and he dropped the scroll onto the covers, where it rolled itself back up. The trickster did seem to be stirring, and Tony reached out to gently grasp his heavily bandaged hand.
He didn't know about the tears running silently down his cheeks, and wouldn't have cared if he did.
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It was…warm.
He could barely remember the last time he had felt warm.
The ever-present pain hadn't dimmed in the slightest, but Loki was gradually aware that there was nothing new dragging his attention to it. In a perverse way it felt wrong not to have to assess a new injury.
The chitauri hadn't visited since they took his eyes – a sickening way to taunt the fact that he wouldn't see them again. There had been no way to tell time, lost in the perpetual darkness and silence of the senseless. Even if he'd been given the means, Loki couldn't have begun to describe the torment of being locked inside his own head. They could have unlocked every door and he still would have been entirely helpless.
He just wanted it to be over.
Enough of immortality. Enough of living forever if it meant this.
But it was warm, and that was not…right.
He moved his head slightly and was shocked when there wasn't the harsh rasp of gravel across his skin. A tiny cautious twitch of his remaining fingers found that they were mostly immobile. He had had enough injuries as a child to recognise the feel of bandages and splints.
And…There was someone holding his hand.
Someone with four fingers and an opposable thumb. Warm skin.
Loki could feel a pulse gently beating where he was palm to palm with the other. When had he last felt the heartbeat of another person?
Where was he? Who was there?
The trickster struggled to sift through the scattered memories since his life in darkness had begun but all that was there was fear and pain. From the moment his sight had been taken was just a blur of nightmare.
What was happening? Was he safe or was this now an introduction to psychological torture? They'd broken his body, were they now going to give it go on his mind too?
The spell he'd cast all those years ago as he'd been snatched curled protectively around his psyche like a mother bear, which was something of a comfort. His body was – and had been – easy to break. His mind, not so much.
The hand holding his heavily bandaged one squeezed gently, alerting him to the unpleasant thought that the person knew he was conscious. Loki's breath caught in his throat at the thought, aggravating the multiple broken and badly healed ribs.
Once upon a time he would have been ashamed at allowing fear to flood him so easily. Now, however, he had learnt that fear was the only sensible reaction to have. Whatever would happen would be terrible, and it was right to fear that.
What did happen, though, was that the person gently raised his hand up, cradling it like it was some fragile thing made of glass. Wet drops made him flinch until he realised that they were nothing more than tears.
This sparked a memory, something vague, a dream of finding metal instead of scales, of running his fingers around the rim of an arc reactor…
One dream of so many like it.
Just a dream…
His fingers brushed wet cheeks before finding neatly trimmed facial hair. It was coarse and short, cut into a hauntingly familiar pattern.
Had he had the strength, Loki would have snatched his hand back. As it was he just felt a deep shudder roll through him, hoping and hating in equal measures. A dream? A trick? A…
His thumb found wet lips, tracing over the contours and running across wrinkles edging the mouth that weren't as familiar as the mouth itself. He could feel the slight tremble there, of someone holding back a flood of emotion. More tears soaked into the bandages wrapped around his hand.
Loki didn't know if he could dare believe it.
He knew that goatee, knew that mouth.
The remnants of his dream came back to him again, the way he had run his fingers around the rim of the arc reactor; knowing conclusively who was there. Had it been a dream? Could he dare hope that it, that this was real?
He let his hand fall, trailing down the neck to find the collar of a Midgardian T-shirt. The hand that still held his guided him until he found what he was desperately wishing to be there.
Underneath the thin material he could feel metal. A raised circle encompassed the more complex design elements within it. The whole thing was slightly different to the one Loki had known, an upgrade, but there was still only one man in the world with an arc reactor in their chest.
The God managed to force his broken fingers to return the grip on his hand. Hope flared again before he realised that it wasn't hope at all. It was joy.
He was found.
There was nothing in the universe that could compare to the realisation that it was over. He had been found. After all this time.
He felt the vibration in his throat and knew that he'd made some sort of sound – although had no idea what. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered any more.
He'd been found.
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Tony couldn't help the tears.
The grip on his hand was weak, but emphatic and he knew that Loki was struggling to come to terms with the idea that the hell was truly over. He raised the bandaged fingers back up, away from the arc reactor, and pressed a kiss to each one. They trembled in his hold and a thin keening broke from the trickster's throat as his mouth moved around a word he couldn't say.
Tony.
Stark broke.
Tears became full-blown sobs and he curled over pressing his lips to the broken hand again. Loki was here, here and alive. It felt like the twilight zone.
He leant down and gently rested his forehead against the trickster's, tears falling onto the heavy swaths of bandages that covered the ruin of his face. Loki's other arm – his missing hand still a jarring shock – tried to lift from where it lay on the covers but he lacked the strength to do so. Tony saw the struggle and gently lifted it, letting Loki guide him so that the stump rested across the back of his neck in an attempt at an embrace.
"I wish I could tell you that I love you and have you hear me." The man whispered softly. "We've never said those words face to face and now…Jesus! Now that I finally have you I can't even tell you it!"
Loki seemingly felt the breath across his mouth and chin – the only portion of his lower face not bandaged – and he turned slightly towards the source, seeking it out. A thick rope of scarring ran along his jawline where, years ago, the tissue had been sliced open to provide access to his vocal chords. He almost startled as a sensation he hadn't dared hope he would ever feel again moved along the old injury.
A kiss.
He whimpered, unable to hear the sound and unable to stop it, his arm slung around Tony's neck tightening.
Tony.
Tony was here. Had found him and was here.
You didn't forget me…
There was so much both men wanted and needed to say to each other, and no means to do so.
So Stark used the one method that had never failed him before.
It was only gentle; there was no way they could kiss properly. Tony's mouth was soft against the scarred ruin that was Loki's, just a press of lips. There was no heat to it, just reassurance and joy and love. No-one could mistake the emotion.
Their hands were still clutched together, now sandwiched between them and Loki squeezed as hard as he was able – which wasn't much – pulling the human as close as he could. Tony broke the kiss and shifted so that he could lay his head next to Loki's on the pillow.
It was an awkward position for the human – leaning forwards in the chair and twisted so that he wasn't lying on their joined hands – but the threat of back-ache didn't even receive a second thought.
Loki was drifting off again – his battered body unable to keep up with the high demands being made of it. The attempts at movement and high emotions were too much for so early on, but for once the dark silence was not intimidating.
Tony was with him. He couldn't see the man, couldn't hear him, but he could feel him. Their hands linked, his arm over the inventor's back, Tony's sobbing breath huffing across his face.
He was tortured, battered, broken, blind and deaf.
And Loki had never been happier because Tony was with him.
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Thor didn't have a chance to tell anyone the full story until Evie went to bed. It was well past midnight by the time the girl finally grew too tired to stay up and ask questions and as tired as the others were, they knew there was more Thor hadn't told them.
They had been interrupted over the course of the evening by Fury and Pepper arriving at different points, which of course meant the whole story had to be told again. Twice.
Fury was, to use a light term, ballistic. Absolutely ballistic.
Before anyone could even tell him the outcome he went off on one, ranting furiously at the whole group about their 'reckless behaviour'. To be fair, they could see why he was so pissed off. Three of the Avenger's had not only left for an unsanctioned mission, but had also left Earth to do so. To be pedantic they had even left the galaxy. There was an under-lay to the scolding that Fury didn't bring up, but was noticeable all the same.
He was offended.
It had actually upset him that they hadn't included him – although to be fair they had hardly had the time to do so. Thor, Tony and Clint had left within the hour of hearing the message from Heimdall.
It was a long time before everyone was on the same page and Thor could give them all the extra details. He had thought it over, as to how much he should tell his friends in regards to what Loki had been through and in the end had to conclude that he would tell them everything.
It was a hard decision, and not one that he had made lightly. He and Tony both wanted Loki to be welcome amongst their friends, but for that there needed to be a certain amount of trust. Loki had nearly torn the team apart before they'd even formed, tried to destroy their capital city and turned Clint into his goon. Sure, they had all mellowed to the idea of him over the years – living with his brother, his lover and his daughter had had that affect – but it's one thing being alright with the idea of someone and a whole other thing entirely in living with them.
Maybe Loki wouldn't be happy that they would know of his injuries, but Thor was taking the chance that his brother would understand the reason.
The group was understandably horrified. The God didn't leave out any details, as horrible as they were to retell. He was a master story-teller, and whilst his tales were usually over-detailed, this time that wasn't a problem. He was able to verbally paint the picture with vivid imagery. Almost too vivid at times, since at one point Pepper had to grab a glass of water, looking pale and ill.
"Will he be able to recover from that?" Steve asked finally.
Thor shrugged somewhat hopelessly. "I am not certain. He will live, certainly, but I do not know how well he will heal. The healers' magic alone can regrow limbs or organs, but I've never known anyone needing it to this extent. It will be some time before we know for certain just how much and how well he will recover."
"Does Tony know that?"
"I do not know. I cannot imagine he will allow it to be an option though."
Bruce propped his chin up on his hands. "Is Tony alright? Physically, I mean. I don't expect anyone to be able to know what's going through his head right now."
"He had trouble immediately arriving on the planet, Jarvis had to interfere with the arc reactor, but he recovered within moments."
The scientist grunted. "I did wonder if something like that would happen."
"By that he means he's spent this whole time on the edge of panic as to whether he should have let Tony go at all." Steve added, and Thor smiled.
"Tony was fine, and I doubt things would have gone as smoothly without him." The God said. "It was only thanks to him that Loki knew who we were."
"Yeah, you said…" Natasha was slouched across the arm of the sofa, watching Thor carefully. "What will happen with Loki now?"
That was the real question. He was technically still a wanted criminal on both Earth and Asgard and either had reason to lock him straight back up again.
"I think he's been through more than enough to atone for what he's done."
Thor's answer was soft but emphatic. The underlying 'touch my brother and you die' was less than subtle.
As it was Steve merely nodded in response. "From what you've told us I don't think it would be right to have rescued him purely to throw him straight back into a prison." He glanced at Fury to see how this would go down, but the Director looked like he agreed.
Thor smiled wanly. "I doubt he will be a threat to anybody for a very long time."
"I can't imagine Loki won't fight back from this. He's the first person to take a head-shot from my shield without flinching." Steve tried to sound reassuring.
"And Clint blew him up." Natasha added.
"And Hulk used him to remodel the floor." Bruce grinned slightly at that.
Fury raised an eyebrow at them all. "Should I even mention that he put up with Tony Stark? That alone should prove his immortality."
Thor looked slightly more amused at that. "Thank you, my friends. I am aware how much he has wronged you all in the past but…"
"But he's your baby brother, and you thought he was dead." Bruce finished for him. "And now he's injured beyond reason. We get it, Thor. We don't exactly know what this must be like for you, but we can understand how you are feeling."
The God smiled again at that. "I must return back home soon. I don't like leaving Loki so soon after finding him, and I feel like I have somewhat abandoned Clint and Tony in an alien world."
"That's understandable. Make sure you rest before leaving though, you look bloody exhausted, God or not." Fury wasn't one for subtlety and actually drew a laugh from said God.
"Agreed."
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Tony woke to the long-forgotten feeling of a head resting on his shoulder.
He was still in the awkward position he'd fallen asleep in, and his back was protesting vehemently. However, long black hair was tickling his nose and that made the pain shooting through his spine all worth it. Loki was apparently still fast asleep, his soft even breathing blowing across Tony's collarbone. They had both moved around somewhat and although they'd fallen asleep with Loki's arm over Tony's shoulders it had slipped down now to rest across his waist, oddly short due to his missing hand. His remaining hand was still grasping the inventor's, their fingers entwined.
For a long time Tony didn't move, just lay there and watched the trickster sleeping. Loki's chin was tucked into the man's shoulder, the soft bandages that covered most of his face pressed against Tony's throat. For all that his expression was mostly hidden by the fabric, he looked peaceful.
"I found you." Tony ran a gentle finger along Loki's chin, tracing the familiar dip and rise. "I actually managed to find you…" There was a deep feeling in the back of his throat – the sort of painful constriction that he recognised all too well as a large well of emotion that was wanting to come out. Not yet. There would be a time for letting everything overwhelm him later; right now all he wanted to do was stare at his lover and try to make his brain unwind.
Seven years of the constant drumming in his head; find Loki, find Loki, find Loki…
Now it was time for the drums to stop. Loki was here in his arms.
Not in one piece, true, but he was here.
Not in one piece…
Tony had to admit to being frightened if his thoughts strayed towards the future. Loki had been hurt in ways he couldn't even imagine and it was uncertain what would happen now.
The man knew what torture could do to the mind of a human but had no idea what the affect would be on an immortal God. For all he knew, Loki had been through this before. Or maybe they had broken his mind. There wasn't much to go on at the moment, what with the lack of communication. That Loki had recognised him – and Odin – was a good sign at least. There was something there, some spark, but it would be a while before they would know how psychologically damaged the trickster now was.
Tony knew all too well just what that sort of damage could be like. His own brief stint in Afghanistan had given him far more of an insight than he would have ever liked. PTSD, shame, guilt, nightmares, flashbacks, depression, and the list went on. Torture ripped away your dignity and shredded it infront of you. The man knew this, and was also well aware that as awful as his own experience had been it was nothing compared to what Loki had gone through.
His mind's eye persisted in bringing back the memory of that awful wall of jars. Five of them in particular.
Five children.
He had no idea how Loki felt about the tiny bodies. Had he loved them? Hated them? Would he be angry that Tony hadn't brought them back safely for a decent burial?
At the time Ironman just hadn't been thinking. They had Loki alive but seriously injured, they weren't going to waste time with that wall of horrors. He wondered if he had made a mistake there, now. Should he have brought those five jars too?
Tony was drawn from his dark musing as Loki suddenly tensed next to him, a low whimper escaping his throat. For a long moment Stark wondered if the God knew what was going on and if it was therefore terror upon waking up that was the cause. However, Loki's grip on his hand tightened and he pressed his face harder into Tony's shoulder, making the horrible little sound again.
Not fright. Pain.
Loki had woken initially as confused as the first time, but the memories came back clearer and he found it easier to recall finding Tony beside him. However, any comfort from that knowledge was lost under the torrent of pain flooding through him.
It had been there earlier, but nowhere near as bad as this and it was obvious that the first time he had woken someone must have blocked it for him so that he couldn't feel it to its full extent. The Aesir healers had ways of making pain invisible by using magic, so that although it was still there, the patient couldn't feel it. However, such charms only lasted a short amount of time and it seemed his had worn off.
There were gentle hands running across his face and he pressed into the touch, trying desperately to convey that he needed help.
For Tony it was terrifying to see the trickster expressing pain so freely. This was the guy who had almost successfully stayed silent during labour, who hated showing any sort of weakness and who had been Hulk-smashed seemingly without any ill effects. But now there was simply too much pain, and that was a terrifying thought.
"Hey? Healers? Anybody?" Loki's hand was clutching his like a life-line so Tony wasn't going to let go, but he looked around desperately for any way of calling for help.
As it was someone must have heard him, since the door to the small room opened to reveal one of the white-robed Aesir. He didn't seem at all alarmed or surprised to see the situation, instead smiling at Tony.
"How long has he been awake?"
"Uh, a few minutes? He's in pain though, can you-?"
"Help? Yes." The man moved up to the bed, looking over Loki with a compassionate but professional gaze. "Move back please. You can continue holding his hand – I don't want to worry him and your presence seems calming – but I need a bit of space."
Tony did as he was asked, sitting up so that the healer could gently place his palms on Loki's shoulders. The trickster instinctively tensed up, almost cringing, before recognising the gesture – which made sense since Loki must have had the spell performed on him countless times when he was younger.
A burgundy glow erupted around the healer's hands and moments later the pain and tenseness left the patient's body and he relaxed back against the pillows with a sigh.
"There, I believe that is better."
"You took the pain away?"
"I blocked it. It's there, he just can't feel it."
A bit like paracetamol then, in Tony's mind. He felt Loki's fingers trying to squeeze his own and knew that the God was probably wondering what was going to happen.
"So…what now? How does he even start to mend from this?"
The healer smiled. "You really do care, don't you? Everyone is wondering about you, you realise? The mortal who would save the God of Lies. Not many would go so far for Prince Loki."
"Yeah well. I'm just that special." Tony really didn't know if he should be offended or not by that. It was also quite a revealing look into Loki's standing in public opinion. He was still a Prince, despite everything, but certainly not a much liked one. "So, getting better? Will he?"
"We will do what we can, mortal."
Right, that was offensive.
"Yeah, no. Not happening. My name is Tony, or Mr Stark. Call me 'mortal' and I'm going to call you 'saw-bones'."
Maybe he was expecting an affronted response, but instead the medic snorted with laughter as he carefully started to check the bandages around Loki's face. "Understood, Mr Stark. You may call me Ragnar." He peeled back the layers around the trickster's eyes, a calming hand cupping Loki's face to keep him still as he flinched back from the unexpected contact. The deep holes looked exactly the same since Tony last saw them but the medic seemed to be pleased with their appearance and moved on to check the other wounds. Loki cottoned on to what was happening and relaxed again, although he still refused to relinquish his link to Tony.
The man strongly suspected that it was less a sentimental thing and far more that Loki needed some sort of anchor of familiarity. He knew that the hand he was holding was Tony's and if he let go there was a chance that he wouldn't get it back, so letting go was obviously not an option. Tony got that and really didn't mind. He could see that Loki wasn't going anywhere and still didn't want let the trickster out of his sight.
"Given his condition I think it will be possible to attempt to restore the Prince's hearing today." Ragnar said cheerfully. "If he can hear us then we can explain everything else to him."
Tony nodded, his throat tightening up again. Loki would be able to hear him again…
"Will it take long?"
"No. It may not be successful though."
Stark remembered what they had said about Loki's magic being blocked and not being able to return it in one go. He could see how that would complicate matters. Loki had never been able to heal wounds inflicted by the chitauri and seeing how Odin's own magic had been affected by the chitauri technology, Tony could understand why this was going to be an extremely difficult process.
"Shouldn't his parents be here? Have they even been to see him yet?"
Ragnar was busying himself with a fresh roll of bandages, but looked up at the question. "The King and Queen were here earlier before you came in, and the king came back whilst the both of you were asleep."
"Oh…" Tony wasn't one for blushing usually, but the thought of the King of Asgard finding himself and Loki snuggled up like a pair of teenagers was embarrassing. Well, sort of snuggled, since he'd been in an awkward position and Loki couldn't technically move, but close enough. Bad enough. "But won't they want to be here for this?"
"The King requested that you are here instead. He is not certain how the Prince will react towards them, whereas he has been calm and receptive towards you. Once the Prince is more able to communicate then the King and Queen will speak with him."
That was…unusually tactful for someone whom Loki had bad-mouthed for the whole time that Tony had known him. But then he'd seen that already; Odin had been prepared to do anything to get the trickster back.
The father and son definitely needed to talk at some point.
"Alright, I need you to try and make him aware that I'm going to work on his ears. Can you do that?"
Tony nodded.
Loki was uncertain as to what was happening. He recognised that Stark was still there and that there had to be a second person since the pain had been blocked but beyond that it was all a confusing jumble of sensations. Also, just because he couldn't feel the pain didn't mean that it wasn't still there and the side-effects – the exhaustion, the tremors, the nausea – were still wreaking havoc.
He felt a squeeze on his hand, Tony trying to get his hazy attention, and tried to apply pressure back in reply. His grip was weak but it seemed that he had got his message through. The hand in his moved, slipping out of his loose hold and running up his arm – a firm touch so that he could know exactly where Tony was – and made its way across his shoulder to his neck.
For a long moment he couldn't understand what Tony was doing. The man's fingers ran up to where the bandages were covering the ruin of his left ear, then very gently tapped there. It didn't hurt, not with the spell running through him, but it was uncomfortable and he twitched away from the pressure. The touch followed, but this time was a gentle but constant pressure rubbing over the wound site, rather than tapping.
Okay, so Tony was trying to say something about his ears…
He startled when a different pair of hands gently clasped over both sides of his head and panic erupted irrationally. They were holding him down. He couldn't fight; there was absolutely no strength left in his body for that. All he could do was shy away, trying to escape the unwanted contact.
Tony's hand was back again, holding his tightly and there was the scratch of stubble as a soft kiss was pressed to the back of his knuckles. It helped somewhat; Tony wouldn't be trying to calm him down unless whatever was happening was safe and that did go some way to releasing the panic a little.
Then there was a curious warmth over both ears that his sluggish mind took far too long to process as magic.
Oh. They were trying to heal his ears…
The realisation made it all a little more bearable, but he didn't have time to relax again. He was well aware that his own magic was still blocked – could feel it curling around at the back of his mind – but as the energy washed over his ears there was a second wave of power, this time coming from his own supplies. The healer had opened a channel to allow a small portion of his own magic out to aid the healing.
It was a good plan and technically would work. However, Loki's body had been starved of its own magic for seven years and was unable to handle it in any amount – even small doses. It burned. His own power, even such a tiny amount and it was burning him up from the inside out.
There was a vibration through his throat and he knew that he had cried out in pain. Tony's hand squeezed fiercely, something for him to focus on and ground himself, but it didn't do anything to alleviate the wave of fire rushing through him.
It hurt!
Things weren't supposed to hurt anymore, but this hurt!
And then the hands over his ears released and the warm foreign energy retreated, just leaving his own burning him up.
He wasn't aware how long it was before the pain retreated down to a more manageable level as the tiny portion of magic settled down, but it felt like an eternity. Valhalla, if that was what only a small portion was like to merely heal his ears then Norns only knew how bad it would be to fix some of the bigger wounds.
He felt drained, sleep – or possibly unconsciousness – calling out to him.
However, that wasn't going to be an option when he realised that the bandages wrapped over the holes where his ears had been were slowly being removed. The areas felt different, but he had been so distracted by the horrendous pain that he hadn't paid any attention to any changes made.
"Loki…?"
He gasped, heard himself gasp as the quiet whisper took him by surprise.
"Loki, can you hear me?"
The trickster turned his head towards the soft sound, feeling his heart hammering as he realised what had happened.
He could hear.
And he could hear Tony. Could hear the man sobbing quietly, whispering his name over and over.
Tony's voice.
It was the most amazing sound he had ever heard.
Untangling his hand from the human's he reached out blindly, following the sound alone to cup Tony's cheek, finding tears there.
"Hey you." The man sounded broken, but Loki could feel his facial muscles move into a smile. "Long time no see…"
The trickster used his gentle hold on the mortal to pull him down so that their foreheads were touching. He could hear his own breath shuddering, a hoarse sob escaping. It had been a long time since he had heard anything beyond the screaming silence that had consumed his world.
"I've missed you, so much." Tony's voice kept catching in his throat as tears escaped quicker than words managed to. "I'm so sorry it took so long to find you, so, so sorry. I went against what you told me. You said in that message all those years ago that you didn't want me to look for you. Well tough. How was I ever going to just forget about you like that?!"
Loki had almost completely forgotten about that message. It had been made on a whim, from Jarvis' suggestion, and he barely remembered what he had said. However, it had obviously meant a lot to Tony, and he knew why; he'd included the three words they had refused to ever say.
The man must have been reading his mind because he lent in to brush his lips over the trickster's forehead.
"You broke our rule about sentiment on that video." He whispered. "And I have travelled across the universe and pretty much destroyed a planet to return that sentiment. Because you know what? I love you too."
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWM
Thor had returned during the time that Loki's hearing was restored and as soon as he heard the news made his way to the infirmary without delay. Tony had been explaining everything that had happened over the past years that had led them to finding the trickster, and whilst Loki was far too tired to really pay attention, he was comforted simply by the sound of the man's voice.
He was asleep when Thor entered the room and the thunder God managed to be quiet enough not to wake him.
"How does he fare?"
"I think he's as alright as he can be considering." Tony still didn't have his hand back, but couldn't say that he minded. "How's everyone at home?"
"Jarvis recorded Evelyn's reaction for you. Thrilled doesn't even begin to cover how she's feeling." Thor smiled.
"I can't wait until the three of us are together again."
The God nodded understandingly. "I believe Evie is of the same opinion." He rested a hand on the man's shoulder. "The healers told me you have been in here for the better part of a day; I believe you would benefit from a rest."
"I'm not leaving him."
"I'll stay. Go and join Clint; he is going to the baths and I think you will find that it will relax you."
Tony looked back down at Loki. The various aches and pains caused by the intergalactic rescue all queued up to yell in one go that a hot bath sounded like absolute bliss. He knew he probably smelt too – since he hadn't had chance to change his clothes. But that meant leaving Loki…
"I promise I won't leave this room." Thor added.
If nothing else, Tony knew that he should probably see Clint, and he nodded with a sigh. "Yeah, okay. Don't let go of his hand, though. He panicked when I did; I think he needs the contact to prove to him that he's really here."
"That makes sense." Thor gently shooed the man up and took his seat. "I have spent long enough looking after my brother to be able to do so now."
Tony smiled slightly. "Yeah, yeah. Okay. Thanks, I'll be back soon."
It grated, leaving Loki like that, but he knew Thor was talking sense. And besides, the trickster was currently asleep.
It didn't take him long to find his way back to the small room he and Clint had been staying in, and the archer led the way – apparently he had been given directions by one of the other medics – to the public baths.
Neither of the two men had really been sure what to expect. The term 'baths' usually drew up mental images of the Romans and their approach to hygiene and it turned out that actually that wasn't very far from the truth. The humans had been directed to one of the private pools, curtained off from the main areas and the curious stares of the other Aesir there.
"This is…different." Clint looked at the steaming pool of water with a raised eyebrow. It was larger than a hot tub – big enough for about seven people – and surrounded by various bottles of what must be soaps and such. Tony was reminded of the bathroom described in the Harry Potter books where Harry opened the golden egg.
"Don't tell me you're prudish." The inventor began to peel off his filthy clothes. He hadn't given much thought as to how grungy they were and eyed the pile of clean garments Clint had been carrying appreciatively. Stripping off entirely he stepped down into the water, grinning as the warmth spread up his legs.
"We are never telling anyone about this." Clint hissed, pulling his own clothing off and following him in.
However, it was actually almost impossible to see anything of each other under the water, and as long as they sat on opposite sides of the pool it was actually less awkward than they initially thought it would be.
"So…" Clint had reclined back, his arms out of the water and resting on the edges of the pool. "How is he?"
"Bad. They've restored his hearing so at least he has an idea of what's going on now, but…God, Clint, he's really not good."
"You can't have honestly expected him to be okay after all this time."
"I thought he was dead after all this time. Hell, he might not even want to recover from this." Tony ran his hands through the water, watching the ripples that formed. "For all I know he might want to die."
"Seriously? After what he did, what he sacrificed to save Evie and you think he won't want to see her again? You think he'd do that to her?"
That was true at least. No matter how injured Loki was, Tony couldn't imagine the trickster not wanting to see their daughter. Loki was going to have to recover to some extent in that case.
"And what about you?" Stark asked. "You've just rescued the guy you wanted to kill. Are you okay?"
Barton shrugged. "Yeah, yeah I guess so." He rubbed the back of his head. "I wanted to kill him, sure, but now…"
"Now?"
"Well, seeing what they did to him…Hell, even I wouldn't do that. Even Natasha wouldn't do that to someone. He did some really bad crap, but…He's paid. They made him pay worse than anything any human could or probably any Asgardian. He's suffered enough."
"That's…Not something I ever thought I'd hear you say." Tony looked at him in suspicion. "Did someone hit you on the head?"
Clint smiled slightly. "Maybe even a hardened assassin can forgive someone in the end. I'm still gonna punch him in the nose once he's better, but I'll make sure not to break anything."
"Considerate." Tony grinned.
"And you? You okay? It can't be easy seeing him like that."
"No, it isn't. But he's got a pulse and that's the main thing right now." The man shrugged slightly. "He knew I was there, knew who I was, and at this point that's a really big something. And his hearing is back, so that might mean that the other wounds will recover in the same manner."
"Ever the optimist?"
"I like looking for silver linings. And hey! Can you imagine if he comes back home with us and joins the Avengers? We'd be unstoppable!"
"It's going to take a long while before that can happen."
"Well, yeah, but still!" Tony spread his arms wide. "The point is we've got him back. We'll take it a day at a time and hopefully things will be okay."
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWM
After the success of reforming Loki's ears Ragnar – who seemed to be the Prince's personal medic – was keen to move on and the next day suggested that they should attempt giving the trickster his voice back. It was a more complicated procedure; since it involved work on Loki's tongue, throat and vocal chords. Technically he had some teeth missing too, but since they wouldn't interfere in his speech it was deemed okay to leave them for another time to grow on their own.
It was slightly less excruciating this time – albeit only slightly – since the first release of his magic had already burnt through him once, but it was still obviously extremely painful. It also took far longer.
The effects of the healing also weren't as instantaneous. Tony had been hoping that Loki would be able to speak straight away but it became obvious almost immediately that being able to talk was going to take some time.
Loki had had his tongue removed almost the moment he had arrived on the planet and had consequently spent seven years without it. He simply wasn't used to having it in his mouth anymore and struggled to form any comprehensible sounds at all. His frustration at this was obvious and Tony spent the better part of an hour trying to reassure him that they couldn't expect everything to happen immediately.
The trickster wasn't impressed.
It took him nearly three days to be able to communicate effectively and his voice was so slurred it sounded as if he had suffered a stroke. His attempts at saying Tony's name came out as a lisped 'Thlony' which didn't bother the man at all, but infuriated Loki to no end.
It was the first time he had ever been injured in such a way that wouldn't heal almost immediately and it didn't sit well with him.
And there were the nightmares to contend with.
Tony was now staying in the small hospital room on something akin to a camp bed so that he was there when the Prince started screaming. It happened a lot.
Loki was physically and mentally exhausted and when he wasn't trying to relearn how to talk he was sleeping. Or at least trying to.
It was almost impossible, after seven years trapped in unimaginable hell, to just tell himself that he was safe now. He still couldn't believe that he wasn't just going to wake up one day and find himself back there in that cell again, or strapped back down on the table with some chitauri elbow-deep in his innards. Every time he woke up and found himself still to be in the suffocating darkness a terrible panic would overwhelm him. That moment of not knowing where he was or who was there. And fearing that at any moment he would feel claws gripping his arms again, dragging him off for more pain and more terror.
That was when, more than ever, he appreciated that Tony was there. It was only when he felt human hands – not chitauri claws – cupping his face and heard the man calling his name that he would slowly realise that it was all over and he could relax.
Up until he fell asleep again.
It was a vicious cycle.
This time he had woken up screaming himself hoarse and found Tony's arms wrapped around him, the man's chest to his back. He took a deep breath, slowly relaxing as once again his mind accepted that yes, he was indeed safe.
"Hey, you back with me?" Tony whispered quietly.
Loki nodded, feeling the familiar flare of anger and hopelessness as he found himself once again in darkness.
"This is going to get better. Honestly. I had the same problem; nightmares and shit, and it really does get better. You just need to give it time." Tony said quietly. He felt Loki try to pull away and released the God from his arms. "Sorry." He began to sit up but the trickster gripped his arm.
"No, shlay."
"Okay." He lay back down. "I'm here, I'm staying."
MWMWMWMWWMWMWMWMWMWMMWMW
Thor was there as much as he could be, and as much as Loki would let him.
The trickster didn't seem to know quite what to make of his brother and depending on how and when Thor came to visit could react in any number of ways to his presence. He accepted that Thor had played a large part in his rescue, and was grateful for that, but was still extremely confused when it came to his family.
His nose had been healed – a much easier and quicker process this time – as well as his hand grown back. The healer had also made an attempt on fixing his eyes but apparently the physiology of a Jötunn eyeball was very complicated and the first try to heal them didn't work.
For the time being, Loki was still blind.
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMW
The trickster lay on his side, trying to flex his newly reformed fingers. They weren't keen on doing what he told them yet, but by practicing the movement he at least felt like he was doing something. He had told Tony to go for a while – asked Thor to show the man around a bit, maybe take him to see the training grounds or throne room or something.
He wanted to be alone, and thankfully Tony seemed to get that.
He appreciated that the man was there for him when he needed him, but that was the point; he didn't want to need him. He had never liked being dependent on someone and as much as he knew Tony didn't mind, he still longed for his independence.
He was free, but didn't have his freedom.
Footsteps outside his room drew him from his musings and he tensed as the door opened.
"That wath a quick tour conthidering how big Athgard ith." He muttered acerbically. The speech impediment had improved dramatically, but he still lisped and it infuriated him.
"Tour of Asgard? Is that why Thor was showing off in the throne room?" There was amusement in the voice, but also worry. Hesitation.
Loki froze.
"May I come in, Loki?"
"I can hardly thtop you, Allfather." He heard Odin step across the floor and took a deep breath, feeling a tremor run through his body. He didn't want to admit to himself the fear he was suddenly feeling. He could hear the king sit down in the chair beside his bed and was glad that he had his back to it.
"How are you feeling?"
"Tired. In pain." This was the one meeting he had been dreading. He had no idea how Odin felt about him now and was terrified of finding out.
"You look better. When we found you I…" Odin cut himself off, sounding pained. "I thought we had lost you. Again."
Loki couldn't help shaking. He had vague memories of the rescue, mostly of fear and confusion, but in his dreams he remembered being picked up like he was made of glass, of someone being so careful to not cause more pain. He remembered the feel of a golden eye patch under his fingers, and barely believing who it could be.
"You were there. You thaved me."
"Yes."
"why?"
"Because you are, and always have been my son. And I love you."
Loki twisted the sheet in his fingers. "But…I…" He felt a hand on his shoulder and stiffened again.
"Loki…Can you ever forgive me?"
They weren't the words he had ever expected to hear. It was enough to make the trickster risk the pain of rolling over so that he could face the Allfather, even if he couldn't see him.
"What do you mean…?" He whispered. Yes, in his own mind the Allfather had an awful lot to answer for, but he had never expected to hear the king admit to it.
He heard Odin shift and felt the hand on his shoulder tighten slightly. "I have made a great many mistakes in my life, but one of the worst has been not telling you the truth. I should have told you everything long ago."
"Then why didn't you?"
"Because I am a coward, and I thought that if you ever found out I would lose you."
Loki let out a snort of ridicule, although it had an edge of hysteria to it that usually came to his voice when he was on the verge of tears. "Well you were right, then, weren't you?" He hissed.
"Loki, I'm sorry. The way you found out was…"
"The wortht way pothible? I needed you right then! I'd just found out that I was a monster and you decided it was a good time to sleep!" Anger leant his voice strength he didn't know he still had.
"Your lisp just improved itself." Odin sounded shaky. There was something in his voice that Loki had never heard before. The king never allowed emotion out that freely. "You know I have no control over when the Odinsleep takes me, but I agree that it was the worst time possible for it to happen. I wasn't there when you needed me."
"You were never there when I needed you!" There was so much pain in the way Loki spat the words out. "All I ever wanted was to show you that I could be as good a son as Thor and you just…you just said no."
He heard Odin's sharp intake of breath, but rather than the angry response he had expected, the old king sounded broken. "I never meant for you to take my words that way." He said quietly. "I didn't mean no you couldn't do it to make me proud of you, I had meant no, you never needed to. You have always made me proud. And I just wish I had told you that more. So that you had believed it yourself."
Loki shook his head hopelessly. "No. No that…you always…no! No." He thumped his fist down on the mattress. "You don't get to say that to me! Not now!" He could feel the awful pressure in his throat that usually preceded tears. "I don't understand! How can you say that to me after all these years? After lying to me for all this time?!"
"Will you just allow me to explain to you?"
"Explain what? That you stole a baby who's own parents hadn't cared enough to keep it and raised it to hate its own race? That it makes sense why I was always the lesser one? That I'm just another stolen relic?"
"I never stole you."
The trickster snarled. "Then what happened? Who am I?"
Odin took a shuddering breath. "You are Loki, and you are my son. That has never been a lie. As for what happened; I told you the truth, but never managed to tell you everything."
"Then tell me."
"It is as I told you back in the vaults; I found you in the snow after the battle on Jötenheim. What I wasn't able to tell you was why you were there." The king said quietly.
"Because my birth parents abandoned me; even my own race didn't deem me fit to live."
He heard a broken laugh. "Oh my child, is that truly what you've been telling yourself? That you were abandoned?" Odin's hand gently smoothed back Loki's tangled hair. "They didn't abandon you because they didn't want you. You were left because they didn't think that you would be able to live. Have you never wondered why you are so small for a frost giant? You were born very prematurely, in the middle of the battle. The Jötnar have no way of saving a babe born so early, so I am assuming that since they believed there was no way you would survive, they made the hard decision to leave you. You were wrapped in a richly decorated cloth and there were the hurried symbols of a Jötnar funeral rite around you; that was how I knew what your name was. They loved you and they mourned you."
Loki didn't know what to say. He lay still, his heart thudding hard in his chest and breathing quick. He had given very little thought as to his birth parents beyond detesting them almost as much as his adopted family; to hear that they had actually cared for him was…hard.
And confusing.
"From the moment I picked you up I knew that I could never let you go. Frigga and I had wanted another child, and there you were; like a gift from the Norns." Odin's voice was soft. "You were…everything we could have dreamed of. Quiet where Thor was loud, Studious where Thor was easily distracted, and your magic…A parent should not have favourites, but I will admit that you were always my favourite."
"What?! But that can't be right…" Loki whispered. "You were never satisfied with anything I did. I was never good enough."
"I never intended for you to feel that way. I could see how distracted you were becoming with Thor's progress and I tried to push you harder in your own studies. You had so much potential, far more so than Thor and it never occurred to me that you could not see that yourself." Odin sounded so contrite. Loki had never heard that emotion in the king's voice. "And I never thought to tell you because I foolishly assumed that it was obvious. I should have let you know every moment of every day how proud you made me, but I failed because I never dared show favouritism to the second born, and not my heir."
Loki struggled to swallow back a sob and Odin's hand moved in his hair again.
"I don't know if you ever noticed, but I did try to show my favour in less obvious ways." The king continued. "I encouraged your magic, when other men would have been forced to weapons practice I persuaded your teachers to allow you to use your powers. You were given the same lessons as Thor, when tradition dictated that the heir should be taught kingship and the second born put to more menial tasks. I tried to raise the two of you as equals." He sighed heavily. "It is obvious now, though, that I failed."
"Yes…you did…" Loki was shaking violently. He wasn't physically able to cry, not without tear ducts, but he suddenly felt the burning need to do so. "All you had to do was tell me. Just once."
"I know. And I will never forgive myself for what I have done to you." Odin's voice was choked. He was crying. "My dear child, I am so so sorry."
It was a precarious moment. Loki had the choice to react either way; forgiveness or hate. He had been lied to his whole life, feeling inadequate and lesser than the others around him and it had led to a chain of events that spiralled out of control.
No Loki.
Odin had meant he didn't need to prove himself. Odin had never doubted him. He had misunderstood the two simple words and it had led to the biggest mistake of his life.
He had let go. Abandoned his family, abandoned his life and tried to die. And when that hadn't worked he tried to destroy a planet.
And yet, despite all that, Odin had turned his back on Asgard and come to save him.
Odin had saved him.
"I don't know what to do…" The younger God whispered brokenly.
"You don't need to do anything, Loki."
"But…all this time…and what I did to Jötenheim and Midgard…"
He didn't know what to do.
However, the hand in his hair was comforting and familiar. It was the same gesture used since he was a small child, when he woke from nightmares, or was sick or injured, when he was upset or tired. Always Odin's hand smoothing down his hair. The silent reassurance of 'I'm here. You are not alone'.
Odin had never intentionally meant to hurt him. All the pain and anger and jealousy was built up on misunderstandings and a fatal lack of communication. Yes, Odin had been at fault, but then so had Loki. So had Thor and Frigga and could he really spend the rest of eternity hating everyone?
Maybe if they had had this conversation before the chitauri had caught him the outcome would have been different. However, Loki had had seven years to transfer every scrap of pain and hatred into the creatures that had taken him, and that didn't leave much for everyone else.
And he would never forget that feeling of the chain through his wrist breaking, of someone wrapping a warm cloth around him and lifting him up and out of that hell.
Odin.
The trickster slowly pulled himself upright, shaking as he did so.
"Loki?" The king sounded concerned, worried about the pain the movement could cause.
"You ask me to forgive you…But can you forgive me in return?" Loki whispered.
"Oh, my son." Warm arms pulled the younger God into a tight hug. "You have never done anything to need my forgiveness."
The sob that had been building in his throat from the beginning tore loose and Loki stopped fighting the embrace. "Father…"
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWM
The Other stared down at the ruined planet beneath their ship, anger flooding through him. The complex and everything in the near vicinity had been vaporised in the initial blast and the rest of the planet's surface was now highly radioactive. Nothing could survive down there.
"Find him." He snarled.
"Sir?"
"I don't care how far away he is, I don't care who is protecting him. Find him!"
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMW
Ta da!
Oh my God, where's Frigga?! Yeah, I know she's massively underwritten here, but she'll appear in the next chapter, along with other Aesir favourites.
Also; I don't buy this whole 'Odin's an abusive father' thing. Yeah, he's definitely a piss poor one who didn't have a clue what he was doing, but I really don't think he did it intentionally. Loki isn't the type to go to such lengths to impress someone if said someone was an abusive dick and Odin seemed genuinely devastated in that scene where Loki found out his heritage.
I think it's just a case of classic medieval royal family where the mum raised the kids and the dad never had much to do with them apart from occasional lectures and hunting trips. Also taking into consideration that it was probably the same way Odin was raised. All in all, not a good situation for anyone but no one is really to blame. Odin was just clueless and couldn't see the damage he was doing by making the boys compete the whole time. Thick, but not a bad person.