In my little 'guess the Asgardian animal' game The Psychotic Queen was the closest so big claps and hugs! You rock! :D
Also, sorry this took me so long to write (but it's longer than normal…). My time's been a little short recently – I'm doing extra after-hours stuff at work and I've also just got the lead role in the local panto so that's taken up a lot of my time. (For none-Brits, Panto, or pantomime, is an annual thing we do at Christmas. It's a comic play usually based on a classic fairy tale and involves a lot of audience participation. Seriously, it's the best thing ever!)
So yeah, busy times. Sorry. However, lots of things happen in this chapter and some just maybe I found time to write in a certain reunion…
Love you all!
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The lights were kept low to give Loki's overly-sensitive eyes a chance to heal fully. The blur around the edges of his vision didn't take long to go, but they constantly felt dry and irritated – a description that led Tony to liken it to leaving contact lenses in for too long. Loki likened it to having had his eyes gouged out then regrown. Funny, that.
However, Tony had no problem with the dark room after jerry-rigging a serviceable reading light out of the pack of spares he kept in his suit. He had been given free reign of Asgard's royal library and, although hadn't been there yet in person, was being liberally supplied with books by both Frigga and Thor. So far he had skimmed the basic history and was now thoroughly immersed in the theory of magic.
It was…somewhat disappointing. Large amounts of the books weren't in a language he could understand and Loki was unable to read the small print, and others were going straight in at the magical equivalent of quantum theory when what Tony really needed was the high school edition.
"Didn't you read the one I gave you all those years ago?" Loki finally asked, after having to break down yet another insanely complex theory for the human.
"Of course, which is why I wanted to move onto harder stuff." The man sounded terse; obviously annoyed with himself that he couldn't simply pick something up and be an expert in it straight away.
"You've jumped from the basics to the extremely difficult. It would take you a lifetime to reach this level of understanding. I will ask Thor to fetch you some more appropriate books from my room."
Tony flicked to another page filled with runes and turned it sideways too see if it made any more sense like that. It didn't.
"What is this stuff?"
"What does it look like?"
The man squinted at the page. "Uh…lines. Horizontal lines with little vertical and diagonal ones coming off at random points. Ooh, and this one has a little curly squiggle."
Loki huffed with quiet laughter. "That sounds like Ogham. Early medieval script from Ireland."
"And that's in a book on Asgard because…?"
"Because I was going through a phase and liked the look of it."
Tony looked back at the page with renewed interest. "You wrote this?"
"Who else is capable of knowing that much of the intricacies of magic?"
"I have genuinely no idea. And now I have to learn bloody medieval Irish if I want to know what this page says."
Loki laughed quietly again. "I will translate for you when I am able to see the words clearer."
"Yeah, cheers." Tony turned the book the right way up again and turned another leaf to view a sheet of pictograms. "What's this? Aztec?"
"Mayan."
"You're a nutjob, you know that, right?" His tone was too fond for it to be much of an insult. He looked over the odd little pictures again before frowning slightly. "Um…Can I ask a question?"
"You've already asked plenty."
"Yeah, but this one might bring up some bad memories."
Loki stiffened slightly, but still nodded. "You can ask; I just may not answer."
That was fair enough. "So, when we went to that hell-hole to yoink you out of there we bumped into one or two of those creepy bastards and I could understand them. What's up with that? They were also speaking English when they snatched you. How come?"
The God leaned back on his pillows so that he was staring up at the dark ceiling. His expression was a slight frown, but it was thought, not consternation at the question.
"I believe they spoke English when they came to the tower because they needed you and your group to understand their demands. As a rule it is exceedingly difficult for them to use any human language because they do not possess the correct vocal-outlet. In fact if I remember correctly only one of them managed to speak to you with any form of coherency."
Tony nodded as he tried to think back. He remembered the leader of the group issuing its threats, but the voice had been extremely hard to understand.
"The ones you had the misfortune to meet whilst looking for me were not speaking English at all."
"But-?"
"You were listening in Allspeak."
Loki turned his gaze to watch Tony's jaw drop and smirked slightly.
"I was what?!"
"You travelled via the Bifrost I believe? Did Thor not warn you it would grant you Allspeak?"
"No. No he bloody didn't!"
"Do you mind that much?"
"I…" Tony stopped. Actually stopped and thought for a second. Allspeak. He could understand any language. Apparently even alien ones. Not read them – which was a shame – but speak and hear, which was more than cool. He'd never have to worry about going on holiday to remote places ever again. "What language am I speaking now?"
Loki shrugged elegantly. "Ancient Norse."
"Huh." The man scratched the back of his head. "That's…huh. Can I speak to animals too? No, sorry, forget that, stupid question. But…can I?"
"No."
"Damn."
Loki laughed again. "You are the most singularly unusual person I have ever come across, Anthony Stark. I do wonder sometimes how I ever managed to find someone like you."
"Just that lucky."
"Hmm." The trickster's smirk remained but was marred somewhat as he yawned. He jumped slightly as Tony shut the heavy book with a snap.
"I should let you sleep."
"I would rather that I didn't feel this tired all the time!" He scrubbed a hand across his eyes, feeling the dip in the mattress as Stark sat down next to him.
"Need me to stay?"
"I wouldn't refuse, if you do not mind."
"Nah. Have I minded yet?" Tony didn't wait for an answer and simply kicked off the loose shoes he'd been given to wear and settled down on top of the covers next to the God. Loki stubbornly didn't move so it was up to the man to sling an arm over the trickster's waist. "Get some sleep, I'm not going anywhere."
"Hmm…" Loki didn't sound like he needed telling twice. Infact, he sounded pretty much asleep already. Tony smirked.
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The loud crash echoing through the workshop made Natasha frown, even more so when she heard the colourful language that followed. She rounded the bank of computer screens to see Evie scowling at a soldering gun lying on the floor.
"Need some help?"
"Oh!" The girl obviously hadn't known that there had been someone else in the lab and jumped slightly. "Hi Auntie Tasha. I was just…" She gestured at what appeared to be an Xbox controller. "I bought that a few days ago. Thought I would see if I could make it better."
"How's it working out?"
"Meh." She shrugged, reaching down to pick up the soldering gun. "I've modified it to be more effective and have a better sensitivity, but all I'm really doing is optimizing what already exists. I wish I could invent something to make it better. Dad can always see a new way of doing everything, and I just can't do that." Her eyes looked red, although a re-vamped xbox controller was certainly nothing to cry over. Natasha pulled up the stool next to her and looked over the work the girl had already done.
"This looks impressive already, Evie. Do you need to do anything more?"
"No. I guess not." The girl scrubbed a hand across her face and Natasha sighed.
"Do you want to talk about what's really bothering you? Your Dad always holes up in here if he's upset about something."
"I'm fine."
"You're your Father's daughter. Now what's wrong?"
Evie turned a screwdriver over in her hands, not really seeing it. "I want to go to Asgard. It's been nearly three weeks and I want to know what's happening. I want to see Dad and make sure he's okay and I want to see Moðhy and…Well, I already know that he's not okay and that just makes it worse. I need to see him! It's been seven years and I just want my mum back!" The screwdriver slipped from her fingers as she buried her head in her hands. "I want my Mum!"
"You'll see him soon, Evie." Natasha knew she didn't have a talent for consoling people, and it was confusing when using the words 'mum' and 'him' in conjunction. "Then everything can go back to how it was."
That was evidently the wrong thing to say, since Evelyn looked up to glare at the assassin, her eyes wet and red.
"How it was? I don't want it to go back to 'how it was'! That sucked! I want a proper family!" She snapped.
"That was what you had, though-"
"Like hell it was! I saw Moðhy twice a year, what sort of family is that?! I want a family! Me and Dad and Moðhy living together. None of you can know what it was like!" She scrubbed her eyes furiously. "Waiting all year just to see him a few hours on my birthday and a few hours at Christmas. I practically didn't have a mother! And knowing that he was missing us as much as we missed him and then…then when those chitauri came…" She slammed her hand down on the worktop. "I'm not a child and I'm certainly not stupid. I can imagine what they did to him over the years. I've had nightmares since it happened about what they could have been doing. And now…I need to see him. I need to see that he's back with my own eyes."
The girl's ire faded and she sniffed miserably. "I want my mum back."
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Tony wasn't what anyone would call a light sleeper, but had begun to react to certain cues over the past few weeks that caused him to wake up quite quickly. Mostly it occurred when Loki was caught in the throes of a nightmare, and Stark would have to wake quick enough to calm the trickster down and rescue him from the horrific memories.
It was for this reason that the man found himself being pulled out of his own dreams to find the God tossing and turning beside him, face taut and breathing quick.
"Hey, hey Loki." Tony put his hand on his partner's shoulder only for Loki to open his eyes and try to focus on him. "You're awake?"
"To…ny…" Loki's face twisted, although as far as the man could tell it wasn't with pain.
"What's wrong? Are you alright?"
"You…need to…move…"
Tony looked confused, then concerned as the trickster suddenly shuddered, sweat beginning to glisten along his cheeks and brow.
"Loki, what's going on?"
Loki waved his hand wildly, pushing against the man, but perhaps only by chance. "Go! Move! Get…away from…me!"
"What?" That was certainly not what Stark expected to hear, and was the last thing he wanted do considering how pale the trickster was. If he had to say what it looked like he would have said Loki appeared to be seriously ill. He was pale and sweating, shivers coursing through his body as he twisted and writhed as if in pain.
"Please Tony! I'm…dan….Ah!...I'm dangerous!"
There was a sudden spark lighting the dim room and Tony's eyes widened as he realised it had leapt from the prince's twitching fingers. Another green ember flashed across Loki's hand and the trickster groaned again.
"Loki, what-? Is your magic coming back?" That shouldn't be happening! Tony was sure they'd been told Loki's magic needed to be returned slowly over time.
"Yes. And…I can't…I can't con…control it." Loki's back arched and his hands twisted into the sheets. "Can't contain…contain it." He opened his eyes again to try to focus on Tony. "Move!"
There was another burst of green light and the man didn't need to be told twice. He rolled off the edge of the bed just in time as Loki screamed. It didn't sound like pain though – sadly Stark was more than aware what Loki's cry of pain sounded like – rather it was from the sheer intensity as the pure energy rushed through him. Sparks leapt and burnt holes into the bedsheets, discharging itself as it left Loki's body.
The water jug on the bedside table turned green, then wooden, then shattered under the pressure. The small table itself became finely carved porcelain. Loki twisted violently, desperately trying to fight the wayward power back under control. It had been so long since he had had so much magic run through his body that he just couldn't rein it in all at once.
Tony let out a startled yelp that became true panic as the sparks grew in intensity then – without warning – caught fire.
Bright green flames engulfed the God, scorching the ceiling and burning up the sheets and blankets. Loki was barely visible through the inferno that the bed had become, but as Tony – crouched in the corner of the room – looked around frantically for a water source he realised that the trickster didn't sound like he was burning to death.
Or at least he wasn't screaming in pain; which is what the man presumed would be the appropriate reaction. Then, even as Stark watched wide-eyed and more than a little terrified, the fire retreated. It was as if Loki's body was sucking the flames back in, his back arched almost painfully before he fell flat against the singed mattress gasping for air.
"Loki…?" Tony whispered, his voice tiny and – quite frankly – scared.
The Prince had his eyes closed, trying to slow his breathing down, but nodded slightly to show that he was still conscious and had heard. Tony took that as affirmation that he could come closer, although he had to crouch next to the bed since the chair was still smouldering.
"Hey, you okay?" The man asked quietly.
"Yes…I believe so. That was less than pleasant." Loki half-opened his eyes, tilting his head to smile slightly at Stark. "Sorry, are you alright?"
"Am I alright?! You just caught fire! Are you alright?"
The trickster raised a hand up to his face, turning it this way and that as he examined the limb. "…I think so?" A spark leapt from his fingers and he visibly jumped with a gasp, shrinking back against the pillows. "Oh!"
Tony's eyebrows rose. "Your magic's back then? Can you try something?"
"I'd rather not burn the place down." Loki looked around and took in the irony of his statement. "Again. That is." He slowly pulled himself upright, wincing as a few more sparks jumped free and caused the burnt quilt to smoulder again. "I haven't set fire to a room since I was a child!"
"Is this something I need to worry about? 'Cause I'm totally wearing the suit if that's the case."
Tony's shaky attempt at humour succeeded when Loki's small smile grew into a quiet chuckle. "I don't think that will be necessary." The Prince examined his hand again, then flicked it experimentally.
The ensuing fireball made Tony duck and almost took out the far wall.
"A little less power, maybe?" The man suggested weakly.
"I believe the Midgardian term is; 'you think?'" Loki looked shaken as he stared at the hole now smoking in the wall. He jumped as Tony put a hand on his arm.
"Hey, calm down." The man said gently. "You're shaking like a leaf!"
"I…I can feel it." The Prince closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath. "All this power. It's…How was I ever used to feeling this?" There was a sudden burst of sparks that manifested as snowflakes this time and he shuddered.
"Can you control it?"
"I'm trying to." There was another flurry of snow, prolonged now as it swirled around them in tight concentric rings. He blindly pushed at Tony again. "Move away, I don't want you hurt by this."
"No, I'll be fine." The man's hair was flecked with snowflakes, and when he shook his head they added to the growing snow-storm filling the small room. "I'm totally using you as a Christmas decoration this year."
He received a glare for the comment, but the blizzard began to ebb slightly.
"What? You'd look pretty good on top of the tree."
Loki closed his eyes with a deep breath, then held his hand out infront if him, palm up. It took a few moments but the swirling flakes slowly began to concentrate and spiralled down in a controlled manner to form a snow ball in his hand. The moment the sphere was a decent size he slammed it into Tony's face.
"I am not sitting on a Christmas tree."
The man spluttered then began to laugh. "Well at least you managed to focus." He wiped away the slush sliding down his beard and flicked it back at the Prince. "Think you've got a handle on it?"
"I am not certain yet." Loki looked up at the snow and a moment later it all vanished. "But I may have."
"Has this ever happened before? Have you ever lost then regained your magic after such a long time?"
"No. I was rather expecting it to seep back gradually, not hit all in one go." The trickster flicked his fingers again and this time a small and sustained flame curled into life, tame and controlled. "But I believe it is settling down." The green fire lit his face, casting odd shadows before he extinguished it and looked around at the carnage in the room. "Maybe I should try to fix this up."
"Don't push it. You've barely got it under control. And besides; you look like a kid on pixy stix."
"On what?"
"Sugar. Lots and lots of sugar. Evie goes nuts if she has them."
Tony had a point. Loki was wide-eyed and shivering, his pupils blown as his gaze flickered from spot to spot in the room. He refocused on Tony and frowned slightly, banishing the rest of the snow from the man's face with a wave of his hand.
A slow smile crept across his lips.
"I have my magic back." The words were soft, but his voice shook. "Tony…I have my magic back…"
The tone said it all as his eyes glimmered with the threat of tears. He was completely overwhelmed.
As Tony pulled the wounded Prince into a tight hug the room around them slowly put itself back together again in a gentle glow of green.
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The two humans sat in one of the grand windows overlooking the sea, eating something that Clint had been given from the kitchens that appeared to be the Aesir equivalent of popcorn.
"That's just unbelievable." Tony murmured, for what had to be the fiftieth time, when another giant reptile breached the waves. "A real dinosaur. Like, really real. There, infront of us, real. Alive and…and…shit." He blindly popped another piece of dough into his mouth. "I still can't believe it!"
"That was pretty much my reaction." Clint had mostly gotten over his shock, but that didn't mean he had stopped feeling absolute awe when he watched the Mosasaurus dive back into the water. "Has anyone told you about the bilgesnipes yet?"
"Thor mentioned them once years ago on the Helicarrier when you were still a minion. Why?"
The archer grinned and pulled his phone out. "Here; check this out. I took the photo yesterday."
Tony took the small device, intrigued at what else Asgard had in the way of fauna. He vaguely remembered the description Thor had given to Coulson; huge, scaly and antlers, and had always pictured them as a sort of scaled deer.
They weren't.
"Is that what I think it is…?"
"Probably not. What do you think it is?"
Tony turned the phone sideways and squinted at it. "It looks very much like a triceratops." He glanced up at Clint, open-mouthed. "It isn't, is it?"
"Not quite. Jarvis said it's called a…Jarv'? What is it?"
The voice came out tinny but clear. "A Medusaceratops, Mr Barton. Of the same Chasmosaurinae family as the triceratops."
"Yeah, that."
Tony ran a hand through his hair as he stared down at the photo. It was one thing seeing a giant sea monster, but something so familiar was a hell of a shock.
"Huh. Well, we can't let Earth know; it'd be like Jurassic Park all over again." His eyes widened comically. "Oh shit! Supposing they have velociraptors here!"
"You mean Deinonychus, the films got the name wrong. And way ahead of you; I already checked and I think we're safe."
"Since when were you a dinosaur buff?"
Clint gave an embarrassed grin. "I got carried away with the research after that Mosasaur."
"Figures." Tony's attention was caught by another one of the sea monsters and he handed the phone back.
The archer watched him for a moment, his sharp eyes taking in the little worry lines on Tony's forehead.
"Not that I'm complaining about some quality time with the only other human in this joint, but why aren't you with Loki?"
"He's with Thor."
"And…?"
Tony shrugged. "And I don't know. He only got his magic back a few hours ago and the moment the sun was up he sent me out of the room with orders not to come back until he said so. I don't know what he's up to, but apparently I'm not good enough and he needs Thor there."
"Sounds like what Evie used to do when she was about eight and had a fantastic plan she wanted to hide."
That garnered a laugh from the inventor. "Yeah. Yeah I guess it does."
"And you two are…okay? I mean, it's been seven years and he did nearly destroy New York and all."
"Not going to let that drop, are you?"
"Nope."
Tony tipped his head back to rest against the wall, staring out of the window without really looking. "I think we're okay. We had a bit of a talk about things and…who knows? This could work, or we may end up fighting like cat and dog. No way of knowing until he's better and we're living together, really. I mean, I want it to work, obviously. I wouldn't have wasted seven years of my life if I hadn't, and if things aren't perfect then we at least owe it to Evie to give it a good go." He laughed slightly. "How is this my life? I should be on Oprah!"
Clint snorted with laughter. "Just don't marry him and you won't have to become another statistic."
"Do I look like the marrying type, bird-brain?"
"Oh I don't know, with the right dress, the right flowers I think you'd look quite lovely."
Tony threw a mini dough-ball at him. Clint, being the super assassin that he was, caught it in his mouth and grinned smugly.
"If it ever happens, you are totally being the bridesmaid and I'm letting Evie pick your dress."
"Ooh, you're a cruel man, Mr Stark."
Tony spread his arms. "It's like you don't even know me." Then he ducked as Clint peppered him with dough balls. "They're gonna kill us for messing up their nice clean halls!"
"Like you care!" The archer ducked a returning doughy missile and sniggered. "And you can't throw for shit."
Stark looked inside his paper bag to find that he had run out of food and held it up to defend himself as the remaining pieces of Clint's snack bombarded him again.
"Help! Mayday! I'm under enemy fire!" He turned his head as a sound began to echo down the corridor towards the window they were sitting in. "Oh shit, someone's coming." He began laughing, trying to stop the archer's over enthusiastic attack. "Quit it already!"
"Why? They know we're uncultured humans – we might as well act like it."
Tony tried fruitlessly to scoop up some of the mess of dough balls that surrounded him, but the footsteps were drawing nearer and two voices became clear over the echo in the hallway. However, he abandoned his clean-up attempt as it became apparent who the people were.
"…I do not need your help. If you would just let me do these things for myself!"
"I can not help worrying, brother! You are clearly not ready to try this yet."
"If you do not stop pestering me, Thor, I will turn you into a squirrel. A tiny one!"
"You have threatened that for years and have never once carried it out, so I hardly think that – Tony! Clint! I did not expect to see you here, my friends!"
The owners of the voices had rounded the corner to reveal themselves. Thor beamed at the two humans, but received only gob-smacked expressions in response. However, it wasn't the thunder God that drew the looks, but the determined figure beside him.
Loki looked wan and pained, but he was standing on his own two feet, leaning heavily on a cane. He smiled when he met Tony's awestruck gaze. The white hospital-grade tunic and trousers washed him out, but there was definitely more colour to his cheeks than the day before.
"Thor doesn't believe I should be out of bed yet."
"He's probably right." Tony rose to his feet, brushing off stray dough balls. "You look…miles better than yesterday."
"I feel miles better than yesterday." Loki took a careful step forwards, resting his weight on the cane.
"I thought you couldn't use your magic to heal those wounds…"
"Not the wounds, but I could certainly do something about the malnutrition." He waved a hand flippantly. "I can not say I was as successful with the muscle wastage, but I believe there is a significant improvement."
"You're walking; I'd say that's an improvement." Tony pressed his hand against the trickster's chest, feeling Loki's pulse working harder than normal from the exertion. "Damn, I forgot how tall you are…" He felt the vibration of prince's quiet laughter bubble under his palm and grinned. "Hey, I'd grown used to being the tallest person in the room!"
"Sorry to break that illusion." Loki's quiet voice was filled humor as he rested a hand against the mortal's cheek.
"No, I think I can live with the disappointment."
Thor cleared his throat behind them and Tony quickly stepped away, realizing that he and Loki had been angling in to kiss. Infront of Loki's overly protective big brother. Probably not their smartest move. Clint completed the moment with a retching sound.
"Shut it birdbrain!" Tony snapped.
Barton smirked at him. However the grin dropped straight back off of his face as he met Loki's gaze.
In the same moment that Thor and Tony realised it was the first time the two had really had contact since the trickster had made Clint his minion Loki had stepped towards the archer. And, leaning heavily on his cane, held his hand out in the universal gesture of peace.
Clint's eyes widened as he stared between the proffered hand and the God that held it out.
"Seriously?" He finally asked, sarcasm dripping heavily off the single word.
"Seriously. You helped save my life and for that I owe you and thank you, Barton." A slight grin lifted the corners of Loki's mouth. "I did tell you that you had heart."
Such an inflammatory comment could have been a suicidal end to the fragile moment, but instead Clint laughed.
"Yeah. Yeah you did." He shrugged slightly, but ignored the offered hand.
There was the same sort of uneasy silence that had probably fallen as the Treaty of Versailles had been signed. The sort where everyone present was holding their breath expecting the first gunshot.
"So…Tony said you have your magic back. How much can you heal?"
Loki raised an eyebrow. "Certainly enough to deal with what I think is about to happen." He answered with a wry smile.
"Oh good." Clint grinned broadly and clenched his hand into a fist.
The ensuing punch sent the trickster reeling back, blood spurting from his nose. He was lucky that Thor had pre-empted the move and was right behind him as he lost his footing.
"Barton-!" The thunder God's outraged cry was mingled with Tony's yelp of shock.
"Jesus Christ, Clint! You could have waited a few days!"
Loki, however, laughed and wiped a hand across his face, smearing blood everywhere. His nose was crooked, obviously broken, but as he ran his fingers over the bruised area it straightened out. Misaligned teeth set themselves back into place and the bruising began to rapidly vanish.
"That…was actually rather painful." His voice was indistinct around his cupped hand, but amused all the same.
"Good, it was meant to be." Clint stood up, wiped the blood off his fingers onto his trousers, then held his hand out in his own offer of peace. "Nice to see you up and about again, boss. I still hate you, by the way."
Loki wrinkled his nose a few times to ensure that everything was back in one piece, then reached out to take the proffered hand. "I would expect nothing less." Then he grinned. "And it is good to see you again also, minion."
Tony gaped. "Are you two seriously going to call each other that?"
Clint shrugged. "Eh, might as well. It'll freak the hell out of Steve if nothing else."
"I think the dinosaurs will successfully do that. And on that note-" He spun to face Loki again. "Dinosaurs! Why the hell didn't you tell me you had dinosaurs here?!"
The trickster shrugged slightly, the movement awkward with one arm taking so much of his weight on the cane. "We never spoke of Asgard. It never occurred to me to tell you."
"Hmm."
Loki wiped away the remaining traces of blood with a shaking hand and winced slightly. He was beginning to look pale again – well, paler since he was naturally quite colourless as it was – and even if he was smiling his eyes were showing the pain that had nothing to do with being punched and everything to do with pushing himself too soon.
"You should be back in bed, brother." Thor said sternly. "You shouldn't have left to begin with."
"No, maybe not. But since I have, I am not going back until I have seen him."
Him? Tony felt like he'd missed a whole chunk of conversation, and glancing at Clint he got the same sense of confusion from the archer. Who was Loki talking of? He wracked his brains but nothing came immediately to mind.
"Loki, let us wait and go tomorrow, you need to rest."
The look the Jötunn laid on his brother was icy cold. "I have waited near twenty years, Thor. I will not wait another moment. You yourself told me he wanted to meet his Fostri, and Tony has a right to meet his Sonr."
The two words weren't translated by the Allspeak, and Tony realised with a jolt that it was because they were titles. Names.
Thor had called him Fostri once before in relation to another.
He knew whom it was they spoke about.
"Oh boy…" He felt his jaw drop.
"Does this cryptic conversation mean something to you?" Barton asked hopelessly.
Tony nodded, dumbstruck. This was…pretty big.
"I am going to see my son, and Tony is facing the enormity of the idea that he has a step-child." Loki explained helpfully. His grin came back, sharp and amused as Clint gaped at him.
"You have a…son?"
Tony still had enough presence of mind to roll his eyes. "Haven't you ever read any Norse mythology, birdbrain?"
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In the end Loki won the argument and Thor backed down in the full knowledge that his brother wouldn't give up until he had his way. It was quite an insight into their childhood really.
Tony knew the general direction of where they were heading, and was unsurprised that Loki kept to what appeared to be the less used paths. The man wasn't entirely certain how the trickster stood in the public opinion of Asgard, and realised that Loki was probably as unsure as he was. Better to keep out of sight until people's reactions could be better anticipated.
Clint didn't accompany them; accepting Loki's thanks had been one thing, but there was still an ocean of bad blood between the two and until the archer heard and accepted an actual apology he wanted as little to do with the God as possible. Thor had wanted to accompany them and had been vehemently denied by his brother after it became quite clear that he would only continue to worry over Loki's health.
To be fair, Tony was worried about Loki's health. It was still only half a day since Loki's magic had returned and he really wasn't ready to be on his feet for any length of time. His face was now taut with pain and he had finally given in and accepted Tony's arm to lean on in addition to his cane. He refused to say what was hurting, of course, but it was obvious that it was bad. Tony wasn't stupid enough to suggest that this waited for the next day as much as he wished to, but he suspected Loki knew he wanted to say it.
It was a fair distance to Loki's intended destination – outside the high city walls – and the walk had certainly taken its toll on the prince by the time they reached the paddocks.
Tony knew very little about Aesir or Jötunn healing, but it was glaringly obvious it had been far far too soon for Loki to have attempted this. However, at the same time he knew that he would have done the exact same thing for his kid. Hell, he'd have dragged himself out of bed on all fours if he had been separated from his child for nearly two decades; he could totally see where Loki was coming from which was why he still hadn't protested as much as he should have. This was as much of the healing process as everything else.
The field was – as Tony had known it would be – filled with horses. He wasn't very au fait with horse breeds but recognised a few as ones found on Earth. Others were slightly too large, or too muscled or too golden. A scarce number looked slightly out of proportion – far too slender to bare any sort of weight on their delicate backs.
And one – far in the distance – had a few too many legs.
The pain drained from Loki's face and his eyes lit up as he dropped Tony's arm in favour of opening the gate to the paddock. The hinges creaked – something so ordinary that it didn't really seem to fit in with the grandeur of the home of the Gods – and the sound made the animals lift their heads in mild interest.
There was a shrill neigh, high and long, from the distance. Tony had never heard a sound from a horse hold so much emotion in it.
He took a few steps back as a blur of silver flew straight at Loki.
It slowed down a few feet from the trickster enough for Tony to see a simply huge grey horse trying to stop eight legs that – up until that moment – had been going at full speed. The stallion skidded on the muddy ground, kicking up huge clods of earth as he slid to an impressive stop that was timed to bring him only an inch or so from Loki.
He was enormous. A light grey, dappled with darker iron-grey splotches that concentrated around his hindquarters. And he had eight legs.
Eight.
Tony had visualised this, of course. Tried to work out how, anatomically speaking, a horse could function like that. Didn't all the muscle groups get in the way? Wouldn't it kick itself? And surely the war horse of Odin, child of the God of Mischief should have been either sparkling white or a really scary black?
But Sleipnir was merely a dappled grey, his eight legs all seemed to work perfectly well together and he had curled his neck over Loki's shoulder, the tricksters arms both reaching around to hug him tight and tangle in the long mane.
"Oh my dear! My darling darling boy." Loki's voice had broken into sobs, burying his face in the side of the horse's neck. "I have missed you so terribly."
And then – much to Tony's shock – a voice answered the trickster.
"I was so worried, Möðir! One moment I'm with Afi rescuing you and Frændi Thor from Jötunheim, and the next Frændi Thor is banished, you're king and everything is so mixed up I didn't know what was happening! And then you fell!"
Sleipnir didn't speak – not conventionally at any rate – but the words seemed to appear in Tony's head without the need to go through his ears. The little scientist in his brain that he could never turn off immediately started wondering if it was a form of telepathy and therefore how it worked. The rest of him was processing what had been said.
They all knew Thor's side of the story about Loki's fall from the Bifrost – about how he'd had to watch his brother simply let go. And then how he had believed him dead, had mourned and grieved for the fallen Prince. It wasn't such a leap to assume Odin and Frigga had reacted in much the same way.
However, all three had known the lead up and seen Loki fall to pieces with their own eyes. As much as it had hurt beyond measure they had at least been able to try and understand his point of view and see why he had done it. Even Thor – after having the situation with Loki's parentage explained and having felt that raw anger aimed at him during the fight on the bridge – recognised that there had been some serious failings in their family.
What Tony now realised, though, was that there was another player in all this. The overlooked and perhaps even somewhat forgotten child of Loki. Certainly it was obvious that the trickster loved his son dearly, but with everything that had happened, had he even seen Sleipnir after being brought back from Jötunheim with Thor? By the sounds of it, not.
Sleipnir had gone with Odin to bring the group back and everything that had happened afterwards had been passed on to him as second hand gossip. The news that Loki was presumed dead must have been all the worse and all the more of a shock for being so unexpected.
And then for the stallion to find out that his beloved only parent was not only alive, but had decided to wage war against another world rather than coming home.
Sleipnir had every right to be furious with Loki, but at this point in time it seemed he was going for the sheer relief of having the trickster back safe if not fully sound. Loki himself seemed to be falling apart, clinging to the stallion's mane like a life-line, apologies tumbling from his lips.
"It is alright, Möðir, it is okay now. You're here, I'm here, it's all alright."
The words had the ring of a mantra to them. Something the two must have repeated to each other over and over throughout the years.
Tony found himself trying to remember how old Thor had said Sleipnir was – how long the two had had to prop each other up over the millennia. Some four hundred thousand years if he remembered correctly. A long time.
There was a sudden pain somewhere deep in his chest as he realised that he could never have that sort of time with his own child. At best he had five years. Five very short, very precious years. He still hadn't told Loki about it yet.
Five years in which to get to know Sleipnir, too.
It seemed that Loki was calming down slightly, his sobbing apologies dying back to more controlled speech as he tried to start explaining things. The stallion hushed him, both verbally and with a gentle head-butt to the tricksters stomach that made Tony smile. For all that Sleipnir was a magical and apparently intelligent eight-legged being; he also had some very obvious horsey characteristics.
"Don't let's talk about it all now. I have you back and that is what I was most concerned with, everything else can wait." Sleipnir nudged him again, on the shoulder this time. "Please don't scare me like that again, Möðir, I don't think I could take it."
"I'm sorry. Nothing I can do or say will make this right, but I really am sorry."
"I know." Sleipnir hooked his head over Loki's shoulder, the closest he could manage to a hug. "Just, next time, come and talk to me; don't go jumping off the Bifrost."
The trickster laughed tearfully, burying his face in the horse's neck again. "Next time?"
"Well…You know what I mean. Promise me?"
"There are some things that a parent shouldn't have to burden their children with."
The stallion snorted. "I am hardly a child. And given that we're immortal and both nearing half a million I don't think you should pull the Protective Parent line on me either."
Loki looked affronted and Tony gave a quiet chuckle. The small sound, although tiny, caught Sleipnir's attention and he slowly raised his head to look appraisingly at the human.
"Ah yes, you."
"Me?"
Loki turned slightly to look at him too, his face tear stained and pained. "Be nice, Sleipnir."
"Yes Möðir." The stallion untangled himself from the trickster and took a few steps towards Tony. It was suddenly very obvious just how damn tall he was.
"Uh…Hi?"
"I've heard a lot about you, Tony Stark, The Ironman of Midgard." It was incredibly disconcerting to hear a voice but not see the speaker talking. At least he knew to say 'Ironman' as opposed to 'Man of Iron'. He gained points for that.
"Um…Likewise. Nice to finally meet you." Tony was extremely proud of how he stood his ground as the giant horse towered over him, then gently leaned down to rest his head on the human's shoulder.
"Thank you for saving him." The telepathic words were quiet, like a whisper. Tony had little experience with horses – he'd taken Evie to riding lessons, but hadn't really gone near the animals themselves – but he recognised the gesture of a head to a shoulder as a display of affection.
"You're welcome." He slowly raised a hand up and rested it on the side of Sleipnir's neck. "I'll try to stop him getting lost again as well."
"I'd threaten you about looking after him, but I think you've already proved that you are more than worthy of my Möðir's love."
Tony laughed slightly – somewhat alarmed at the thought of the giant eight legged horse threatening him. "I do hope so."
"Shouldn't that be my decision?" Loki's voice was hoarse as he came back up to hook an arm around Tony's waist. "I do not need my child to threaten my lover for me."
"Not a child any more, Möðir."
Tony couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. "Oh God, you are so like Evie it's scary! We've had this same argument so many times!"
He'd always sort of assumed that that argumentative streak had come from him, but there were some very reminiscent characteristics in Sleipnir's behaviour that made him realise it was probably Loki's genetics rearing their head. It was very odd to think how much the two might have in common. Especially given that they were species and worlds apart.
He heard Loki's quiet chuckle, but there was an undercurrent of pain to the sound. It took Tony rather too long to realise that the trickster didn't usually hold him round the waist in such a manner, nor put so much weight on him.
"Hey, you okay?"
"I'm fine."
He didn't look it. In fact, he looked the dictionary definition of shit. Yes, Loki was usually pale, but this was ashen. Pale, trembling slightly and a tightness across his forehead that suggested great pain. Loki was most certainly not okay.
"We should get you back to the infirmary."
"No. I've spent more than enough time there. I want to go back to my rooms." The prince's voice was tiny.
Tony glanced at the stallion, almost for permission and Sleipnir nodded his large head. "He needs rest. We have all the time in the world to talk now, you go rest Möðir." He nudged Loki's chest playfully. "And no going falling off worlds in the meantime."
A ghost of a smile flickered across Loki's face and he bumped his forehead against his son's. "I promise." He kissed Sleipnir's nose. "I'm not going to leave you like that again. Never again, I promise."
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Tony didn't know how he managed to get the stumbling trickster back to the palace, let alone follow Loki's less-than-coherent directions for the prince's personal chambers. Thor had been saying for weeks that the rooms had been made ready for when Loki was well enough and although Tony certainly did not think that he was well enough, it was up to the trickster.
Tony hadn't really thought about what he should expect, although he remembered when – all those years ago – Loki had taken him to that suite in Claridges and likened it to his quarters in Asgard. The rooms were…sumptuous.
To be fair, what could one expect from the home of a prince? The general theme was gold with stone walls that were a natural cream – unusual for Loki's tastes, to be sure – and the ceilings were high and beamed. It was like a suite from a grand European castle, one of the proper medieval ones that still survived in some rare cases. An entire section of wall was lined with bookshelves – Tony was already familiar with some of the books, he realised – and a writing desk took up a whole corner to itself. The bed was pushed up against the far wall, almost as an afterthought, obviously newly made with fresh green linens.
Loki smiled, and the expression seemed to chase away the pain from his face.
"Oh, I had not appreciated how much I have missed this place." He breathed.
"Good to be home?"
"Most certainly."
Loki was using both his cane and Tony's arm for aid as he limped over to the bed and sank down onto the covers with a groan.
"I fear I have pushed myself too far today."
"You think, Capricorn?"
The nickname usually drew protests, but this time it was like Loki hadn't heard it, and that was actually somewhat worrying. He looked ready to fall asleep where he sat.
"Need me to fetch anyone to do that taking-away-pain trick?"
"No. I just want to sleep."
"Fair enough. Do you have any pyjamas, or whatever you Space-Vikings wear?"
"Night clothes? Yes, but this will still suit for now." The trickster gestured down at the white infirmary garb he still wore. "It is little different except for the colour scheme." His words were beginning to slur together and Tony gently but firmly forced him to lie down.
"Okay, never mind." He pulled the covers up, despite Loki batting half-heartedly at him in an attempt to stop the mothering. "Just get some sleep. Do you want me to stay?"
"Of course." Loki sounded as if the thought of Tony not staying hadn't occurred to him – which it probably hadn't. He relaxed as the human lay down behind him, not cuddling, but one hand resting on his shoulder.
"I liked Sleipnir." Tony whispered. "He seems cool."
"Mhm. He liked you too…" Loki's voice was a soft murmur. "Need to finish talk with him tomorrow. Lots to explain…"
"Don't think about it now. Just sleep."
"You're staying…?"
"You're not getting away that easily. I've got you and you're mine. Not letting go now."
"Possessive…"
"Don't hear you complaining." Tony hadn't really felt tired, but the bed was comfortable, and the room warm. It was very soporific. "What do you want to do tomorrow?" He waited a few moments, and when there was no reply sat up a little to see that Loki was fast asleep. He smirked slightly and settled back down.
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It was a combination of bright sunlight and light laughter that woke Tony the next morning and – on reflection – there are far worse ways to wake up. He rolled over with his habitual morning groan and threw a hand over his eyes before peeking through his fingers to see what the world was up to.
Well, the bed was empty, for a start.
The laughter and sunlight were both coming from the same source and he squinted in that general direction to see a large window. Loki was perched on the ledge, one leg tucked up underneath him. Sleipnir was leaning in, his large head resting on the trickster's knee. Tony hadn't realised that Loki's room was situated such that the stallion could come straight up to the window like that – but thinking about it, it made complete and utter sense. After all, the horse couldn't realistically live indoors and Loki wasn't going to sleep in the stables any time soon. That meant that a ground floor room with windows opening out onto Asgard's pastures and fields was a very good idea.
"See, I told you you'd wake him up!" Sleipnir sounded amused as he lifted his head to look at Tony. "Nice bed-hair."
Tony groaned again. "It's too early for a talking horse…" He half sat up – extremely thankful that he'd worn clothes to bed – and blinked hard until his vision was mostly clear. "What time is it anyway?"
"Just gone dawn." Loki answered. He looked far better than he had the day before, and it helped that he'd changed out of the awful hospital clothes. Brown suited him. Okay, so there was a hint of green around the cuffs, and maybe the boots were black, but it was mostly brown.
"Too early for a talking horse. Or I'm not drunk enough for a talking horse."
Sleipnir flopped his head back down to rest on Loki's shoulder. "He's a bit dumb, Möðir, are you sure you want to be with him?"
"Hey!"
Loki chuckled, stroking the stallion's neck as he glanced over at Tony with a mischievous grin. "Oh I think I'm sure; he does have his moments. But I do value your input, my dear, so we'll have to see how well the two of you get along."
Tony found himself genuinely disturbed by the identical sly gleam in both sets of eyes trained on him.
"You two look eerily similar when you do that…"
Sleipnir's nicker coincided with Loki's laughter and they knocked their foreheads together in a gesture that seemed almost instinct.
"Thor says that all the time."
"You should have seen when I was little – we got into so much trouble!" Sleipnir added enthusiastically. "Afi Odin was forever yelling at us."
Tony grinned at the mental image of both parent and child being told off by the Allfather. "What's the age gap then? Because I wouldn't have put you as such an irresponsible parent, Loki."
The trickster laughed, but did look slightly abashed as his son nudged him in much the manner of a child knowing that their parent is embarrassed. "I was thirty seven thousand when I had Sleipnir."
"And in comparison to humans…?"
"Oh Norns…Must you make me say it, Stark? Yes, I will admit to having had a teenage pregnancy. In human years I would have been comparable to a sixteen year old. Maybe seventeen. Young, and certainly considered too young in the eyes of many."
Tony looked at Sleipnir again and smiled. "Well from here it seems like you've done a damn good job. A single teenage parent? Not bad, Capricorn, not bad at all."
The stallion nickered again as Loki looked surprised. "Okay, I've changed my mind, can we keep him, Möðir?"
"Oh if we must." The prince's smile made it clear that he didn't want it any other way.
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Loki spent most of the day with his son. Tony had made it clear that the two should have some time together and had left to find Clint and Thor soon after getting up.
It had been perfect weather for a long distance trek, so that was precisely what they did. Riding as hard and as fast for as long as they could, until Asgard was a distant speck on the horizon. Sleipnir had carried Loki long before he had become Odin's warhorse and twenty years was not too long for them to forget the easy familiarity. They had, of course, had longer periods of separation in their lives. Loki had spent centuries at a time exploring the nine realms whilst Sleipnir trained and later led battles with Odin on his back. They were used to time apart – after all a couple of decades was nothing to immortals. However, it had been the prince's supposed death, followed by his betrayal and eventual capture that had made this time all the worse.
Sleipnir had never had to face losing his Möðir before, and it had struck deep.
They returned just before dusk, dirty and travel-weary, but happy. Loki had found that although he had still tired easier than normal, he was feeling far better and stronger than the day before. The pain had been manageable for most of the day, and it was only now that they approached the large windows that looked into his chambers that it was creeping up on him again. Even so, it was less biting than it had been and was something he could – for the most part – ignore.
He pushed the window back open and slid into his room, the same way that he had left, and bid Sleipnir farewell. It was the work of a moment to use a sweep of magic to rid himself of the day's dust. He had so missed being able to do that.
There was still no telling how the citizens of Asgard would respond if they saw him, so the prince stuck to the more hidden paths as he quickly looked for either his brother or Tony. It would have been the work of a moment to turn himself invisible, but he deemed that it was prudent to conserve his energy.
Thor was easy enough to locate; Loki knew that he'd been sparring so it was obvious that he'd want to bathe afterwards.
Thankfully the thunder God had his own bathing suite so the trickster only had to slink through the corridors to Thor's chambers, rather than the main public baths. He didn't knock – they never had – and simply entered before anyone could catch a glimpse of him.
"Who is that?" If the steam curling out of the open door to the bathroom wasn't a giveaway, Thor's genial question certainly confirmed Loki's suspicions.
"It's I, brother."
"I'm in the bath."
"I could not have guessed that." The two brother's had never been prudish around each other, and certainly not when it came to bathing, so Loki pushed back the door to the bath room further.
Thor was still in the gigantic tub, lathering his hair up. He turned slightly to grin at his brother through a facefull of suds.
"You're looking better."
"I'm feeling better." Loki placed his cane down so that he could pull his boots off and sat down to dangle his legs in the water. "I went riding with Sleipnir today."
"I know. He's missed you."
"I could tell."
Thor frowned at him slightly. "You're in pain, are you not?"
"What would make you say that?" Loki tried to sound airy, but the heaviness in his voice betrayed the comment.
"You were limping. You still required a walking aid. And you have that look in your eyes." Thor scooped up a handful of water and tipped it over his hair. "You always looked like that after we'd sparred as children and I had hurt you more than you would admit."
The trickster shrugged slightly. "The pain is growing less each day. I can walk, and a few weeks ago I never thought that would be possible again so I do not worry about a pain that will one day fade." He smiled slightly. "When you spend seven years in such abhorrent agony that it is impossible to even tell if you are alive, something like this does not cause as much discomfort as you would think."
His simple description caused Thor's face to fall. "You still dream of it, do you not?"
"It will be many millennia before I stop dreaming of it." He shrugged slightly. "But then again, it will also be many years before I stop dreaming of falling from the Bifrost, of finding the Chitauri the first time round, or of meeting the Hulk. In all honesty, I still have nightmares of Sleipnir's birth. This is how life is, Thor. As the Midgardian's beautifully phrase it 'shit happens'."
The thunder God waded over to his brother, ignoring the soap suds running down his back. "Loki, if we could have found you sooner…Or if I had been able to protect you and Evelyn better when they came for her then..."
"Then nothing, Thor. They were always going to find me. This was always going to happen. I was running and hiding but that was only going to work for so long." Loki lifted his hand up over his brother's head and water began to pour from his fingers, washing the lather away. "Be honest Thor, I deserved it." He cut off his brother's immediate protest with a soft laugh. "No, I really did. After what I did with the Bifrost, and then to New York some form of punishment was going to be exacted."
"If I recall, I brought you back here for exactly that. You would have been safe from the chitauri had you stayed here."
"In an Asgardian prison cell? Oh Thor, I was dying of sheer boredom down there. I was here for a grand total of three weeks and no one had had the brawn to come near me. I grew bored."
Thor looked shocked. "You had the ability to leave immediately and you waited three weeks? Why?"
"I needed to recover. The chitauri had wounded me, and Banner had added to it. I was not in a good enough physical state to want to leave until I was healed." Loki twirled his finger in the air in a gesture for Thor to turn round, which his brother complied with. There was a comb lying nearby which he picked up and began untangling the thick golden hair. It was something he had done since childhood. "If it's anything, the very first thing I did after escaping was get drunk."
"Ah, I believe I know where this story goes next. Did you happen to meet an equally drunk Avenger at that point?"
The trickster laughed. "Why yes, how did you guess? An equally drunk and lustful Avenger, I might add. Although as much as I hate to say it, I recall very little of that night and neither does he." He paused for a moment. "The night after that one though…"
"Enough! I do not wish to know of your scandalous affairs!"
Loki snickered, a little sound that made Thor laugh loudly. "Some things never change – you have ever been prudish when the subject of sex arises."
"I am not prudish, I simply do not want to think of my brother in such a situation! Especially with another man."
"As if you yourself have not lain with men."
"I was drunk!"
"So was I."
"Yes, the first time!"
By this point they were both laughing helplessly. Thor turned in the water again and, in a sudden movement, grabbed Loki's wrist and pulled him in.
"You bilgesnipe!" The trickster surfaced, water flying everywhere. "What was that for?!"
Thor shrugged. "Because I could." He could barely get the words out around his laughter, especially when the trickster splashed him. "You look like a drowned rat!"
"And you look like a Dwarf." Loki shot back immediately. He waded back to the side and heaved himself out, scowling angrily under the sodden mop of hair now obscuring his face. "If you are to be so immature I will just go and find Tony. He, at least, only behaves like a child when I'm less inclined to kill him for it."
"How I have missed your death threats, brother."
"Just feel lucky that I didn't wish to waste energy turning your bath to ice."
Thor laughed again. "Noted." The smiled slipped somewhat as the rest of the conversation caught up with him. "Wait, you are aware that Tony is not here, are you not?"
"Where else would he be?" Loki was busy trying to dry off and was focussing on the spell rather than his brother's words.
"Midgard."
The spell failed, leaving the trickster with dry clothes, but very wet hair and staring at Thor in shock. "Midgard?! What is he doing there?! Why wasn't I told he was going?"
Thor grinned. It was the same sort of smile he'd always used when he – for once – knew something that his little brother didn't. However, the expression itself was a giveaway – it was his 'this is going to be awesome and I can't wait to see your reaction' grin.
Loki put two and two together, his jaw dropping into a little 'o' of surprise.
"Evelyn…?" His whisper was like a prayer.
"Tony and Clint have gone back to fetch her. The others will probably be joining them."
The thought of the other Avenger's – with whom Loki still hadn't made peace – didn't seem to enter the trickster's mind as he stared at his brother. The only thing that seemed to have registered was his daughter's name.
"Loki?" Thor had obviously been expecting a more jubilant reaction, so started forward in concern when instead of smiles he saw the sudden tear that slipped down his brother's cheek. "Loki, are you alright?"
"Of course I'm alright!" The words were snapped, but the effect ruined as he hurriedly brushed the tears away. "It's just…"
"It's just that it's been seven years."
"I've missed everything important in her life."
"She's only fourteen – she's got a very long life ahead of her that you can now be a part of."
Loki nodded. "I know. I know that." He scrubbed a hand across his face again with a haughty sniff. "When are they arriving?"
"Within the hour most probably."
The trickster managed an imperious smirk. "You should probably put some clothes on then."
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The brothers were on the Bifrost within the hour, Thor seemingly taking his time intentionally. It may have been that he simply didn't want the trickster to push himself any more than he had to, but could just as easily have been vindictiveness. With siblings these things are always hard to tell.
As it was Loki was practically dragging the thunder God along as they made their way down the bridge. It hadn't been such a hard decision not to take horses – after a long day of riding the trickster was already in enough pain without making it worse – so they were walking. For Gods, even an injured one, it wasn't such a distance that they couldn't make it comfortably on foot.
They didn't speak now – Loki was far too distracted.
He was going to see Evelyn again.
The child that he had willingly given himself to the chitauri for, that he had barely been able to see as she grew up.
He was going to see her again.
She had been the thought that had kept him going during those dark years of hell. The little bright memory and a whisper that if he wasn't there and suffering than they would have taken her instead. It had always helped him to put things into perspective that she was safe because of what he was going through.
He was aware that she wasn't going to be the same little girl he had left behind, but at the same time he didn't care. However old she was she would always be his tiny daughter, a babe in arms. Like any parent he would never see her as anything but.
"Oh!"
Thor's sudden exclamation brought Loki back to the present, wondering what had taken his brother's attention. He looked up to see that they were closer to the observatory than he'd expected. Close enough to see a group of people standing outside of it. The mortals already here.
"Oh…" He subconsciously echoed his brother's noise of surprise.
He stopped dead, feeling his heart leaping up to his mouth.
It was a sizable group – Thor did say the Avengers were probably coming after all – however, it was the shorter figure at the front his gaze was immediately drawn to. It was too far to make out any more details than dark hair and a short stature, but he didn't need a clearer picture to know who it was.
Evelyn.
He took a step forward. Then another. His cane hit the ground. Then he was running.
The short figure broke away from the rest of the group, flat-out sprinting along the glistening surface of the Bifrost. Loki was sprinting too – heedless of the pain or the tiredness that gripped his muscles, none of that mattered in this moment.
Features were becoming clearer now, Evie's mid-length hair in the same disarray that Tony's was usually in, her wide green eyes full of tears. Yes she was taller, yes she looked older, but in Loki's eyes she was just that petrified seven year old that he had last seen with a chitauri holding a knife to her throat.
How to describe the indescribable. The feelings that run through a parent as they finally see the child that they thought lost to them forever. Had Loki had the presence of mind to analyse his thoughts he would have realised that he was barely believing it was true. Part of him was convinced that it was a dream – that he would wake at any moment.
And then she was there, right infront of him. She wasn't saying a word – she couldn't with how hard she was crying. There wasn't a break in her stride as Evie simply threw herself at him, legs round his waist, arms round his neck, clinging as if she would never let go again.
For Loki time stood still.
His daughter was a solid weight in his arms, real and tangible and there. Her hair was in his face, her sobbing breath wet and warm against his neck and she was real. Really there, really alive and in his arms.
There wasn't truly an emotion that could describe how Loki felt. Simply the overwhelming feeling of I'm never letting go of you again as he clung to his child just as tightly as she held onto him. It wasn't a single true emotion, but was stronger than anything else. I am never letting go of you again.
He felt his knees hit the ground. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except that he had Evelyn back in his arms. He knew he was sobbing as hard as she was and it just didn't matter.
Because Loki had his family back.
He felt whole again.
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Heimdall stood in the observatory, still staring out into the darkness. He knew of the happy reunion taking place out on the Bifrost, but did not deem it any of his business. Instead he cast his gaze out into the expanse of the Nine Realms, watching the other worlds glide by.
There was a flicker.
The watcher frowned, honing his attention in to the furthest reaches of Yggdrasil. There was…something. Something not right. The brief after-glow of what looked like a portal. Maybe one that hadn't formed properly.
Someone was trying to enter the Nine Realms.
And he had seen that particular energy before.
The chitauri were coming.
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What? You didn't think I'd leave it on a happy note did you?
Love you all for the faves and reviews!