Chapter 9 - Loki Kills His All-Father

It was weird—everyone they passed ignored them as they ran down the halls of the palace, like they had all just magically gotten the message that they weren't to be messed with until sundown. The guards didn't even seem to notice when their newly exiled princess tripped over her stripper heels and went sprawling onto the floor in front of them. Either these "Einherjar" guys had the same kind of rigorous training that the guards outside of Buckingham palace had, or they'd all had lobotomies—which you know what? Wouldn't have surprised Tony at this point.

Thor, whose legs were longer than human legs and who wasn't trying to run in heels, had gotten ahead of all of them. "Sister, why are you sitting down?" he called. "We must keep moving—"

"I can't run in these shoes," Loki complained. "They're worse than Asgardian women's shoes. How can mortal women wear these?"

"No clue," Tony told him. "When Pepper wears heels, she always keeps a pair of these roll-up slipper things in her purse so she can take them off once we've gotten where we're going."

"How does that make sense? If Midgardian women are allowed to wear comfortable shoes, why would they wear these torture devices in the first place?"

"Because they look good, I guess?" But Pepper could make Crocs look good, so as far as he was concerned, the kid had a valid point.

"If you cannot run in them, take them off," Thor told her. "Or you could allow me to carry you."

"I am not a doll for you to carry around," Loki growled at him.

Frigga had still been holding Loki's hand when she fell, and had let go just in time to keep Loki from pulling her down as well. Now she loomed over, eying her critically, but not so much like she was concerned that Loki was hurt; Tony got the feeling instead that she had just noticed her daughter was dressed like a background dancer in a Britney Spears video. The woman lifted her hand, and before you could say "bibbidi-bobbidi-boo," Loki's clothing shimmered gold and turned into a green scaled unitard, flat thigh high boots and a fur cloak.

"The shoes are better, but—"

"Would you have rather I put you in a dress with a long skirt and a corset?" Frigga asked, pulling Loki along behind her. "I thought this might be easier to run in. The dragon scales are effective as a light armor, and I thought it might be cold where we're going—"

"You still have the strangest taste in clothing, Mother."

Tony couldn't help but agree with the kid. Loki looked like what would happen if an exotic dancer had a baby with a snake.

"Stop again to complain, and I'll put you in battle panties like the ones Sif used to wear," Frigga told her. (Tony hoped she'd stop again to complain, because he really wanted to know what "battle panties" were.)

Another one of those Einherjar guys stood by the door. Tony couldn't help himself. He had to—

"Tony, what do you think you're doing?" Bruce called, as Tony held up a peace sign and snapped a quick selfie with the emotionless guard.

"I really can't believe you sometimes," said Bruce, when Tony caught up to the rest of the group fifteen seconds later.

The sun had all but settled below the horizon as they all loaded onto a skiff belonging to the queen.

"Is it really a good idea to let Loki steer this thing?" Tony asked, when it became clear who was at the helm.

Thor shrugged. "Loki is the one who knows where we are going."

"As in, she's the only one that knows where we're going? Right, there's no way this can go wrong."

"It is in Loki's interest to get us off realm."

"Yeah, but is it in her interest to take us to the place we're supposed to be going?"

"It is, and hopefully Loki recognizes that. Besides, if she betrays us, Mother and I will both be cross with her."

"Thor, if Little Sis betrays us, we're all going to be cross with her."

"Loki will not wish to disappoint Mother."

"So Mom was cool with her leading an alien invasion against Earth?"

Thor frowned. "I do not believe Loki ran that by her."

The skiff glided along above the water, and once again, Tony had to know how it did that. Howard had never quite figured out the whole flying car thing, at least as far as Tony knew. Tony had experimented a bit with a car of his own but had ultimately decided that passenger vehicles without wings necessarily lacked the aerodynamics to do more than hover a few feet before falling to the ground.

The skiff accelerated without warning, throwing Tony backwards. "Hey kid, watch it. You've got precious cargo on board here. And I don't think you want the Hulk for a passenger—Bruce, you okay?"

"I should be fine," said Bruce, "as long as we don't crash."

"I should probably warn you about the next part," said Loki. "Normally, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise, but Stark is correct in assuming that I never want to see the green beast again, let alone in such close quarters. Now, you see that very small crack in the side of that mountain? We're flying through there."

Tony squinted at the crack, which at this distance looked like more of a hairline fracture. "Uh, are you sure? That doesn't look wide enough—"

"If it were easy, everyone would do it. You'll just have to trust me."

"You tossed me through a window one time. That doesn't exactly inspire trust."

Loki's eyes locked with his. "I apologize for attempting to murder you. I was not in my right mind at the time."

Holy shit—keep your eyes on the road! thought Tony, but what he yelled was, "At the time—like, you're better now?!"

The corner of Loki's mouth quirked upward. "Not really, but I don't want to murder you at the moment. Besides, you don't have any choice but to trust me."

Bruce looked a little green in more ways than one. "Hey guys, on second thought, I can't promise I'm not going to—"

Frigga moved to sit next to him, taking his head in her hands. "Sleep," she told him, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Thor caught him as he fell backwards.

Leonard moved out of the way so that Thor could lay his unconscious colleague down in the bottom of the skiff. Somehow, the man didn't seem disturbed by anything that was going on; either he had nerves of steel, or he was good at faking it.

Tony, not so much. I am Iron Man, he told himself, and there's no reason for Iron Man to freak out about flying through a tiny crack in a mountain, something he would have had no problem doing in his suit—why had he not brought his suit? Here he was, relying on Loki not to kill them. Tony decided he'd better just close his eyes, because they were all about to die.

"You can trust my child this much," Frigga told him, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Now, sleep."

Suddenly the bottom of the boat looked like an awesome place to take a nap.

(- o – ) zzZ (´〜` ) zzZ

"LOKI! Where is this? This is not Midgard!"

"No, I don't suppose it is. I believe it is Svartalfheim." Loki looked out over the barren landscape—yes, unmistakably Svartalfheim.

Thor might have figured that out himself if he hadn't slept through their geography lessons; though really, Loki was impressed he'd so quickly come to the conclusion that they weren't on Midgard. Perhaps the complete and utter lack of lifeforms had given it away.

"Why have you brought us here, Sister?"

Loki shrugged. "I never agreed to take you all to Midgard. You just assumed. And do not call me Sister."

"You mean to deny me again? I thought us past this, Loki."

Loki wasn't sure they were "past" anything, but that was beside the point. "That isn't it, Thor. Though I am currently stuck in this form, I would have turned myself back by now if I could. I would appreciate it if you addressed me as your brother."

"Very well, though I do not understand what difference it makes when—"

"Must I remind you that you started a war because someone called you 'princess?'"

Thor's agitation with him only seem to grow. "So you have brought us to a dead world, Brother—what do you think to gain from this?"

"The opportunity to negotiate."

"Loki, please be reasonable." Frigga tried to pin him with a look of disapproval, as if he were only a child throwing a tantrum.

"I am being reasonable. It is the rest of you who are not using reason. You think you can tell me what to do, when right now, I am the one who holds all the cards. None of you will make it off this realm without me."

"So what, you're going to refuse to take us to Midgard if we do not give into your demands?" Thor asked. "You don't believe you're going to go on without us, do you? I will not allow that."

"Excuse me," said Doctor Samson, the only mortal not currently sleeping in the bottom of the skiff. "Maybe it would be a good time for Loki and I to have a private discussion."

Frigga nodded. "Yes, I think that might be a good idea."

She couldn't possibly be serious. "I do not wish to speak to the mortal, Mother."

"Loki, either you will speak with Doctor Samson, or you and I will speak privately, is that clear?"

Loki got the distinct feeling that it would be in his interest to speak with Doctor Samson and not his Mother. Reluctantly, he followed Doctor Samson to a couple rocks a good distance away from the skiff, where they could sit and wouldn't be overheard.

Loki sat down with his arms and legs crossed, intentionally trying to close himself off. Samson could speak all he wanted; that didn't mean Loki had to participate.

Samson sat across from him, leaning towards Loki with his elbows on his knees and his hands loosely clasped together. "Loki, why did you feel like you needed to bring us here?"

The question did not feel like an accusation, unlike his brother's earlier interrogation, so Loki answered it. "I would be a fool to simply take you all where you command me. I'll have no power whatsoever once I get to Midgard. I shall be imprisoned in Stark's tower. Mother even agreed that you could drug me."

"Your Mother agreed that you would take medication if I prescribed it. But Loki, do you think I would force you to take medication?"

"You would not?"

"If I thought you needed it, we would discuss the potential benefits and drawbacks, and you would decide if you wanted to try it. The only exception would be if you became a danger to yourself or others."

That seemed like a rather large loophole. "I am always a danger to others."

"You told Tony that you didn't want to murder him."

"Currently."

"You know what I think, Loki? I think you don't want to hurt anyone, but you think you'll hurt them without meaning to, which is why you try to push them away."

Damn this mortal. Why did he have to be so perceptive? "Does it make me any less of a monster, if I hurt them without meaning to?"

"I don't think you're a monster, Loki. No more than Bruce is a monster because of the destruction the Hulk caused before Bruce learned to control him."

"Bruce's other half beat me into a hole in Stark's floor."

"I kind of wondered why you're so nervous around him. Anyway, my point is that you can learn to control yourself so that you won't hurt others without meaning to. You do that by learning to manage your thoughts, which helps you to manage your emotions. Managing your emotions helps you to manage your behaviors, which in turn helps you to manage your thoughts. That's the basis of cognitive behavioral therapy, which I always like to try before we resort to pharmaceuticals."

"And if my thoughts are not my own?"

"If you really can't control your own thoughts, we might want to consider medication, but before it comes to that there are things we can try. Mindfulness, journaling—"

"You misunderstand."

"Explain what I've misunderstood, then."

"You will think me either a liar or completely mad."

"I'm on friendly terms with a guy that can turn into a Hulk, and I'm sitting on a dead planet, across from a god who accidentally turned himself mortal. Try me."

Thanos would find him one way or another now that he had left the relative protection of Asgard, and without his powers, he would be as good as dead. Loki decided he might as well "try" Doctor Samson. "There is a creature called the Other who has a talent for psychic manipulation," he began. "I spent several months prior to the invasion of Midgard at his mercy, or lack thereof—"

"Psychic manipulation?"

"Are you a man, Doctor Samson, or a parakeet?" Loki asked, irritated at having been interrupted.

"I was hoping you might explain what you meant, or give me an example."

"Oh, very well," said Loki. "Mostly, I was forced to relive my worst memories. Memories of a life lived in the shadow of my brother's greatness, of abuse and neglect at the hands of the family who claimed to love me and bullying by those who should have been my friends. Though I later concluded that many of those memories had been rewritten to make them even worse than they had been."

"Rewritten?"

"I suppose you wish for an example?" Loki tried to think of one that wouldn't be too distressing to relate, or too embarrassing. "Once in our youth, Thor broke my nose while sparring. An accident, I'm sure of that now. Thor went into a panic over it. I remember he picked me up—which was totally unnecessary, mind you, because it was my nose that was broken, not my legs—and ran with me all the way to the healers. But when I was with the Other, it seemed to me that he had only laughed as I laid on the ground, bloodied, and told me I was a pitiful excuse for an Aesir, that Odin would never name someone like me as his heir."

"That's terrible, Loki. I'm glad you can recognize now that your brother wouldn't have hurt you on purpose."

Loki shrugged. There had been plenty of other times Thor had hurt him on purpose, though he had typically regretted it afterward, or else Loki had made him regret it later. It had been the cruel words and laughter that had hurt most in the altered version of events. Anyone who thought that "sticks and stones broke bones" but that "words could never hurt" had it turned around, in his estimation.

"That was but a mild example," said Loki. "There were other things I became convinced had happened, which I would prefer not to speak of. And remember that I have a thousand years worth of memories to work with, some of which hadn't been exactly pleasant to begin with."

"You don't have to talk about those things now," Samson told him. "But if you want to talk about those things later, that's what Tony's paying me for."

Loki nodded. "He offered you a 'blank check,' yes? Were I you, I would take full advantage. I am a very high-profile patient, after all."

"I'll do my best," Samson assured him.

Loki continued his story. "Before sending me to Midgard, the Other gifted me a scepter which gave me the power to manipulate the minds of others. It had the nasty side effect of furthering the corruption of my own mind."

"Are you saying you were subjected to psychological torture and brainwashed into leading the invasion?" asked Samson.

"Something like that, I suppose."

"Is this the first time you've told someone?"

"It is."

"Why?"

He couldn't quite bring himself to admit that he had been frightened to speak of it, as if speaking the names of his tormentors would bring them to him. "I am Loki Liesmith," he said instead. "How could anyone believe such a story?"

Samson shook his head. "It's terrible that people call you that."

"I have earned the name. I'm not ashamed of it. Lying well is a useful skill. Many times my lies have been to Asgard's benefit, though no one ever seems to remember that. And it doesn't mean I lie all the time. I'm not lying now."

"And you aren't being influenced by this 'Other' anymore?"

"Having my head smashed into the floor actually seemed to loosen the his hold on me, so I suppose I should actually be grateful to your Doctor Banner for that. And the Romanoff woman took the scepter, so I suppose I owe her my thanks as well."

"Thor was worried that you still had some sort of 'psychic link' to these people, though. That you heard voices?"

Thor would do his best to make him sound insane. "I never said I heard voices. I shared a telepathic link with my former allies during the invasion. I had believed the link to be severed, but—"

"But now you think it's still there?"

"I saw the Other in my cell once," Loki explained. "He hovered over me, making threats. It was strange; I couldn't move, or speak, but it didn't feel at all like a dream."

Doctor Samson's eyebrows flew up. "But when this happened, had you been asleep?"

"Yes, but that's just when he would come, isn't it, when my mind was unguarded—"

"Loki, how regularly did you sleep inside your cell?" Samson demanded.

"I don't know. The lights were on constantly. I never knew what time it was."

Doctor Samson nodded excitedly, and Loki had a feeling he had already worked up some theory, based on mortal wisdom. "Loki, have you ever heard of something called sleep paralysis?"

Loki didn't like to admit when he didn't know things, so he tried his best to look bored and patiently waited for the man to continue.

"It happens when you wake up during REM sleep, while your body is still in REM atonia—the temporary paralysis that keeps you from acting out your dreams. People who experience sleep paralysis often report hallucinations. Thinking there's an intruder in the room is common, because the feeling of vulnerability causes the midbrain to create a hyper-vigilant state. Does this make sense, Loki?"

"What you're saying is that I was hallucinating, because my sleep was disturbed," Loki summarized. "Yes, it makes sense. Humans always find the most logical answers for everything."

"Because the most logical answers are usually true."

"Truth is relative," Loki quipped. That was one of Odin's mantras, which he tended to repeat whenever Loki attempted to debate him on the basis of what should have been indisputable fact.

"It really isn't," said Samson, making a face. "Anyone who acts like it is usually has some sort of agenda."

"Is having an agenda bad?" Loki asked him. He was aware that the phrase had a negative connotation, but he wasn't sure why.

"It implies that you'll do anything to get what you want," Samson explained.

"And that's bad?"

"It is if you hurt other people to get what you want."

Loki knew he had hurt a few people in order to get things done in the past. Before his fall into the void, it had usually been in the service of the All-Father; Odin himself had never had any qualms about doing "that which was necessary for the good of Asgard."

In the All-Father's name, Loki had written contracts designed to cheat laborers out of their fair pay by setting unreasonable deadlines. He had also offloaded dangerous artifacts from Odin's treasury by giving them to unsuspecting parties—he had even knowingly paid one of the All-Father's debts in cursed gold.

And of course, along with Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three, he had been sent forth to generally terrorize the lesser races of the nine realms into submission. The others wouldn't have characterized it that way, of course. Asgard had praised them as heroes who protected the good people of the nine by hunting down the monsters, and they had no reason to question it.

Loki had never had a reason to question it either, until he had discovered that he was not a "hero," but a "monster."

"Isn't that just the way of things?" Loki asked, unsure what he wanted the answer to be.

"It shouldn't be," said Samson. "I don't think it has to be."

"Odin might disagree with you." Loki had learned most of what he knew about how the world worked from Odin, but now that he thought of it— "You know, now that I think of it, I don't think I want to be like him anymore."

"Some people think you have to kill your parents in order to become an adult," said Samson, then added, "Symbolically, I mean."

Loki wondered if the doctor felt the need to clarify because he knew English was not Loki's first language, or because he knew Loki's history. He had already slain his biological father, and not symbolically. "Immortals don't do things symbolically," Loki told him. "It is from the lives of beings such as ourselves that mortals derive their symbols."

Samson arched an eyebrow at him. "Your mother told me that Asgardians aren't really gods—that the Norse mistook them for gods when they visited Earth a long time ago."

"I depends on your definition of a 'god,' I suppose." Compared to mortals, Asgardians were gods, and Loki still could not understand why the All-Father had determined to leave Midgard to its own devices, while he ruled the rest of the realms with an iron fist. "I am not Asgardian, though," Loki mused, more to himself than to the mortal across from him.

Samson heard him anyway. "Your mother told me that too."

"I see. So you've discussed me." Loki hated it when people talked about him behind his back.

"We did. She told me that you were adopted, and that you found out about it on your own, at a time when you were likely to have been under a lot of stress already."

"Yes, plotting against one's own brother is incredibly stressful," said Loki. "Hardly anyone acknowledges that."

"That's not what I meant," said Samson, having the audacity to smile at him. "Your Father collapsed in front of you, and with Thor banished, you inherited the throne—that's a lot of responsibility for someone as young as yourself."

"I am roughly two hundred times your age," Loki pointed out.

"Truth might not be relative, but I'm pretty sure age is," Samson countered. "Anyway, I heard a little about what happened from your Mother, but I got the feeling she didn't know everything. Thor told us that the two of you fought and that you let yourself fall from the Bifrost, but he didn't tell us anything that happened before that."

"Must we speak of this now?"

"No, you don't have to talk about it right now if you don't want to. We can end things here for now if you're ready to take us home. See, talking to me isn't so bad, right?"

"I suppose it is tolerable," Loki admitted. "But Stark will still attempt to imprison me in his tower. I am, after all, considered a 'war criminal' on your realm."

Samson frowned. "Loki, I think you ought to share what you told me about the invasion with your mother and your brother, at least. If that's too difficult, I could tell them for you—but only if you want me to. Just to be clear, you have something called 'doctor-patient confidentiality.'"

"They would only think I have manipulated you into believing a falsehood," Loki warned him.

"I'm actually pretty good at detecting lies," said Samson. "It's a point of professional pride for me."

Loki hadn't lied to him yet, but he still thought the man a fool for thinking he couldn't. "It doesn't matter. I told you before, I am dangerous. That I may not have attacked your realm entirely of my own volition matters not. You are a psychiatrist—how familiar are you with the workings of hypnosis?"

"I'm not trained in it myself, but it's generally agreed now that hypnotherapy can be useful in treating a wide range of conditions," Samson told him. "But hypnosis isn't mind control. It doesn't work on everyone, and you couldn't use it to force someone to do something they don't want to do."

"Even with magic, there is no way to compel someone to do something that is truly against their nature," said Loki. "The scepter could not have forced me to do something I was not capable of."

"Most people are capable of doing all sorts of things they wouldn't normally do when they're under duress."

The good doctor just had an answer for everything, didn't he? "I'm not sure why you're so determined to think well of me."

"I'm not. I'm just trying to give you the benefit of the doubt."

"How novel of you. Are you certain you're not angry about all the destruction to your realm? The innocent lives lost? Would it not make you feel better to have someone to blame?"

"I'd rather know the truth about what happened," said Samson.

"Of course you would," Loki huffed, but having peaked, his frustration with the man began to decline, and was soon replaced by the mental and physical exhaustion that had been following him around ever since his return from the void.

Loki felt a gentle touch to his knee and realized that it had been some time since he had last spoken. Then Samson was trying to hand him something—some sort of flimsy handkerchief made of paper, which from the looks of it, he must have had crumpled up in his pocket. Loki had no idea why the man thought he needed such a thing, but he took it from him in order to examine it more closely.

"You're, um—I think you've got something in your eyes," Samson told him.

Loki used the paper handkerchief to blot his face, and it came away inexplicably wet—odd; some wind-borne sediment must be making his eyes water.

"It's okay. Just take as long as you need, Loki. We'll head back to the others when you're ready."

(;_・) ˰~(-_- )

"Hey, Point Break, where are we? Because this doesn't look like Earth."

"That is because we are on Svartalfheim," said Thor. "It was once the realm of the dark elves, but the dark elves are no more."

"So, we're on some desert planet in the middle of nowhere? What the hell, man? Where's your little sister?"

"Loki insists that though he appears to be female, she—he wishes to be addressed as my brother."

"Okay, got it. He's identifying as male right now. So where's your brother and why did he bring us here?"

"Loki wished to negotiate his future while he possessed the leverage to do so," Thor explained. "Doctor Samson is speaking with him now."

"Damn. We should have known better than to trust Reindeer Games."

"I am certain your Doctor Samson will be able to come to an understanding with him," Frigga said. "If he does not, I will speak to Loki myself."

Tony had a feeling he wouldn't want to be anywhere near that conversation. Frigga reminded him a lot of Pepper. He found himself feeling just a little bit sorry for the kid again.

Thor peered out over the distance. "They are coming back this way," he announced. Tony looked in the direction Thor was looking in and watched as Doc Samson strolled back to them at a leisurely pace, Loki trailing behind.

Frigga nodded to Doc as they came within a few feet of the boat. "I trust you talked some sense into him?"

"I think we cleared up a few misunderstandings," Samson told her. "Loki has agreed to take us home."

Tony took a better look at the kid. His eyes were red and he had a kind of "stretched thin" look to him—clearly, Samson hadn't been negotiating with the kid so much as they had been having an impromptu therapy session. "You feeling up to it?" Tony found himself asking. He hooked his thumb back towards the skiff. "Because if you need to take a nap in the bottom of the boat, it's not that uncomfortable."

Loki quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Just saying, you shouldn't drive when you're all emotional. That can be as bad as driving under the influence."

"What in the nine realms are you babbling about, Stark? I am perfectly fine."

Right, because that was about as convincing as when Bruce had assured them he was fine anytime in the past twenty-four hours. Of course, Loki would think of emotions as a weakness, something big bad demigods weren't supposed to have.

There had been a time when Tony had thought that way. It had taken time (and a few harrowing experiences that made him reexamine his entire life) to figure out that emotions were just what he had for Pepper, and that all his one night stands had just been his way of avoiding those feelings indefinitely.

"It would be okay if you weren't. I mean, a lot has happened today. First you get sexually harassed by some scummy prisoner, then you accidentally turn yourself mortal—Dear Old Dad was a jerk about it, and you got run out of Asgard under pain of death—"

Loki's eyes narrowed. "Will someone please make him shut up?"

Bruce tapped Tony's shoulder. "Hey, Tony—maybe shut up?"

Tony nodded as he realized that maybe, dragging up everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours was a bad idea. At least the kid didn't have the power to turn him into a newt at the moment.

( `-´)⊃ ゚.*・。゚ -:I==I~~

After Tony shut up, Loki informed them that they would have to go the rest of the way on foot, because the skiff wouldn't fit through the cavern he intended to lead them through. Tony barely had time to reflect that he should have worn different shoes before they were off, traipsing through a deep dark hole in the ground that thankfully, only reminded him a little of the cave he had been trapped in in Afghanistan for several weeks.

╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭

Author's Note:

So far I've managed to post on the days I said I would (Tuesdays and Fridays), but each time the chapters have been going up a little later in the day. This chapter was difficult because the middle of it is just a long conversation between Loki and Samson. Hopefully it isn't too long-I wanted them to make some progress during their first "session," but I didn't want it to be too much too fast.

What did you think of Loki and Samson's first "session?" Was it believable when Loki "got something in his eyes" at the end, or did that seem to come out of nowhere?