A/N: This is a repost of an old fic. It was originally written before the release of Thor: The Dark World.

A DESPERATE PROPOSITION

"Well, well, well, what have we here?"

Loki was not entirely certain the voice was real. How long had he been imprisoned here? Hours, days, months. Alone. Always alone. There had been nothing but unrelenting silence for what seemed like eons. And now a voice. At least, one that wasn't the figment of his unsettled mind; there were plenty of those.

"Is there some truth to mortal myth after all?" the deep, mocking baritone queried. "Has your revered All-Father sewn your lips shut, Silvertongue?" Rich laughter echoed off the walls.

Half-dreading that he would find nothing but the stale air of his cell, Loki lifted his head. A man stood before him, garish clothing clinging to his slight frame. His white-blond hair framed his elven face like a halo, though there was nothing angelic about the ruler of the Underground.

"Pity," he said, cocking his head as he studied Loki with a smirk. "It would have been an improvement."

"Jareth." Loki's voice was gravelly from disuse.

"In the flesh." Jareth paced around the small room before turning back to Loki. "It seems your lofty ambitions have finally exceeded your reach."

Loki's lip curled in a sneer. "And what do you know of ambition, Goblin King? You have immeasurable power and yet you choose to cower in your underworld in stagnant decay." He rose to his full height, towering over the other man. "I mean to rule the living! I mean to rule worlds!"

"Hm." Jareth was unmoved by Loki's contempt. "And I see that plan has turned out so very well for you, Loki Odinson."

"Laufeyson!" Loki snapped before he could stop himself.

"No one's son, I think." Jareth raised a brow. With a wave of his hand, a tattered armchair appeared in the center of the room. He draped himself across it as if lounging in his personal chambers. "You've killed your true father—for good reason, certainly. But instead of rightfully taking the throne of Jötunheim, you attempted to wipe the Frost Giants from existence entirely. And then you turned your eyes toward Earth." He glanced at Loki. "Oh, yes. Even while 'cowering' in the Underground, I still know of your follies."

Loki bit back an invective. Once he had been able to wield his barbed tongue like a weapon, only drawn to inflict the deepest injuries. But since his time with Thanos, Loki was finding it difficult to keep his anger reined in.

"What? No stinging retort?" Jareth shook his head. "How far the dark prince of Asgard has fallen."

Loki's skin burned with growing outrage. "If you've come to mock me—"

"Temper, temper," Jareth said in a dispassionate voice. He picked at his gloves. "I came because I was bored and it amused me to answer your call." He leaned forward, fixing Loki with his unusual eyes. "Why have you requested an audience with the Goblin King?"

Loki did not answer immediately. He hadn't truly believed that Jareth would come—if his call had been heard at all. The king of the goblins held no love for the realms of Yggdrasil; negotiating for his aid would require a certain finesse. Loki returned to his bench and ran his fingers through his bedraggled hair in a poor attempt to tame the black curls. He was already at a disadvantage in this discussion, looking the part of a defeated once-king all too well.

"Do get on with it," Jareth said with an exasperated sigh. "I haven't the patience for theatrics."

Loki trained his expression to something friendly. "I have something you want."

"You?" Jareth laughed. "I doubt it, but I will play along with your madness—for now."

Loki smiled. He may not have been quite himself recently, but in this he was confident. "I know of the girl. Sarah."

The Goblin King went rigid at the name despite his air of disinterest. "What of her?"

Fool. Another immortal being undone by some Midgardian wisp. Loki wanted to laugh. He would have thought Jareth too cunning to fall into such a trap—unlike Thor. At least in this instance, such mindless romanticism could be used to Loki's benefit.

"I know how she's hidden herself from you," he said.

Jareth conjured one of his crystal balls and rolled it over the back of his hands. "Have you not named yourself the God of Lies?" The ball came to a rest on the tip of his fingers, and he searched its depths with a frown. "How can I know if you speak the truth now?"

He was so close. All Loki had to do was give him the gentlest push. "You cannot know. But if you refuse my offering, it will eat away at you. Did I know how to find her, you'll wonder. Could you have entrapped her before another man won her heart, before age stole her vigor and beauty? That is a risk I think you are unwilling to take."

Jareth was silent for several long heartbeats before he said in a low voice, "You speak as though I am caught up in the throes of love." He turned to Loki, mouth twisted in a grim smile. "You are mistaken." The crystal in his hand shattered into a thousand glittering pieces which dissipated before hitting the floor.

"Am I?" Loki kept his voice steady, though tendrils of panic began to churn in his gut. This was his only bargaining piece, his only chance to escape this infinite solitude.

"Oh, I want the girl," Jareth said, feral light burning in his eyes. "But I have no intention of making her my queen."

Vengeance, then. Loki's smile turned genuine. He well understood that particular sentiment. "And you will have her, I swear to you."

"I suppose in return you'll want a way out of here." Jareth gestured at the cell.

"After a manner, yes." Relief settled in Loki's middle. There was only one more obstacle to overcome. "If I escape with you now, Thor will surely come after me. He will hunt me indefinitely, and I'd rather not spend the next thousand years running from him. I need him to set me free willingly."

Jareth raised a brow in disbelief. "Willingly? Come, come now. Surely, you don't expect me to beg for your release." He laughed. "You are far madder than I believed."

"I am not mad!" Loki bit out. He closed his eyes to steady himself. Curse Thanos and his tortures! "I mean to start a war," he continued, calmer, "between Svartalfheim and Asgard. Tension has been growing between our peoples for millennia. The dark elves only require the slightest inducement to attack."

Jareth's expression grew flat, but he nodded for Loki to go on.

"The All-Father has grown weak, and the only other in the Realm Eternal as adept at sorcery—"

"Is you," Jareth finished for him. "How fortuitous."

"Indeed." Loki bore his teeth in a broad grin. "Dark elf magic is not easy to combat, as you are aware."

"Intimately." Jareth gave him a hard look. "Your price is exorbitant, Laufeyson. I have no wish to gaze upon Malekith again unless it is at his funeral pyre, and you would have me incite my wretched half-brother into battle."

This was the tenuous moment. The Goblin King could decide the cost was too great. Loki forced his muscles to relax, to give the appearance that he had no doubt Jareth would make the deal.

Jareth straightened and fixed Loki with a deadly stare. "If I do this thing and you cross me, Asgardian, you can be certain there is no realm—known or unknown—where you can run. I will find you and you will well know why the elves and fae were forbidden to produce offspring after my birth." He made a derisive sound. "You call yourself a god? You are the dust beneath my boots."

"I would expect no less," Loki said, spreading his hands in acquiescence. It was a pity he could not use that simple spell hiding Sarah for himself, but thwarting the Goblin King was a puzzle to solve another day. He licked his lips. "Are we in accord?"

"Tell me how to find the girl first."

Loki furrowed his brows. "How do I know you'll keep your end of the bargain?"

Jareth leaned forward. "You don't. Not yet. But if you don't accept my offering," he parroted Loki's own words from earlier, "it will eat at you while you are trapped in this tomb. Forever." He smirked. "That is a risk I know you're unwilling to take."

"Well met." The deal was struck. Loki would have to trust the other man. "There is a Midgardian spell—weak and inelegant—that prevents her from being scried directly. It also changes her appearance to all beings of magic, which is why your goblins cannot find her either.

"But there is a flaw in the enchantment in which you are in a position to exploit. Time." Loki smiled as understanding lighted in Jareth's eyes. "You can scry her possible futures."

With a rapid movement, another crystal appeared on Jareth's fingertips. He glared at it for a breath before his mouth curled into a predatory grin. Glancing at Loki, he said, "How fortunate for you that I hadn't thought of it myself."

As he rose, his chair disintegrated into a shower of sparkles. "You'll have your war, Loki Laufeyson, and I will have my revenge." He vanished, his laughter ringing in the cell.

Days, weeks, or months of nothingness passed again and Loki was plagued with doubt. Had the Goblin King truly been here or had Loki's madness grown to include hallucinations now?

And then Thor appeared on the other side of the crystalline wall, asking for his help.

Loki had trouble keeping a triumphant smile from his face.

"When do we start?"

~FIN~

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. There is a continuation for Jareth's story: The Color of Vengeance (which will be reposted soon!).