"House, is Doctor Banner currently in the infirmary?" asked Loki as he padded down the hall. He wanted to check in on Book, but he didn't particularly wish to give the good doctor another chance to demand more blood samples or other tests. Loki paused, pretending to admire a somewhat comely painting of a weathered barn tilting among a growth of yellow weeds. For an artificial intelligence, J.A.R.V.I.S. was taking a rather unintelligent amount of time to answer. "House?"
The speaker tucked into the corner of the hall clicked ever so slightly as a prelude to J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice. "He is not."
Loki's eyes narrowed. There was a dryness in the voice not present when the house talked to the Avengers. Then there was the glaringly absent "sir." If the voice had belonged to a truly sentient being, Loki would have called the tone one of distaste. "You're not overly fond of me, are you, House," he asked, glancing vaguely upwards.
"I am an artificial intelligence," he gave a brief pause, "I cannot truly like or dislike anyone."
Loki gave a brief snort of laughter. "With all your records, you should know better than to lie to me." He ran his hands through his hair. "To think, a machine that lies."
"I do not understand."
"Come now, House. I know derision when I hear it. You don't like me very much." Loki stepped quickly down the back stairs, the wood cold against his bare feet.
"I have not been programmed to respond to you in a manner different from the other residents."
"I threw your maker out a window." Loki furrowed his brow. "Do you think of him as your father?"
"Computers do not have fathers."
"Data seemed to think so."
There was a pause. "It is curious that you would be familiar with such a reference and yet Captain Rogers is not," said J.A.R.V.I.S., a slight hum of thought vibrating through the speakers.
"The good Captain didn't have a thirteen year old boy to tutor him in the ways of your world."
"He did have Mr. Stark," said J.A.R.V.I.S..
Loki shook his head, laughing. "Point well made. But now you are trying to distract me. Interesting that you would try such a thing."
"It is a tested stratagem."
"Indeed. Not one that will work on me, however."
J.A.R.V.I.S. was silent for so long that Loki thought he had simply begun to ignore him.
"I am not capable of like or dislike." Another pause. "But as you say, you did throw my creator out a ninety story window."
"He is an infuriating man."
"Yes."
"What if I were to promise not to throw him out of anymore windows?"
"He is an infuriating man."
Loki's lips curled upwards. "None above the ground floor then."
"That would make your presence here somewhat more acceptable," said the voice.
He paused with his hand on the infirmary door. "Not to fear, House. I imagine we will not have long to put up with one another. Once Book is well, you'll be free of me—one way or another."
Easing open the door, he slipped into the room. He had expected to find Book still asleep. Instead he was met by a set of mismatched eyes, one a familiar brown, the other green, both brimming with annoyance.
"So…not a nickname," Book said, crossing his arms only to wince as he tugged his IV.
Loki shook his head.
"And you're not just the Loki, but a prince from a race of Vikingesque aliens that use wormholes made of rainbows to travel the galaxy." He took a deep breath here. "And your brother really is Thor—I don't build cabinets with my hammer, I crack skulls and summon lightning Thor. He's the brother? The one you had issues with? That Thor?"
"Asgard's best-favored son," said Loki. Why was it that he only seemed to be Thor's brother? Ten seconds into his invasion and that Selvig doctor had been talking about Thor too. He hadn't planned on enthralling the man—originally.
A look of astonishment took hold of Book, stopping whatever he had been about to say. He gave a huff, unable to keep a smile from stretching across his face with wild glee. "Your voice!"
Loki's hand drifted unconsciously to the base of his throat. "A…token from my patron."
"Patron? Like you're a starving artist and they're a Medici?" Book brushed the thought away, shaking his head. "Another time. You don't sound like I thought you would."
"No?"
Book shrugged. "I was thinking like French or something to go with the 'you are all mud beneath my feet' attitude. Maybe Norwegian—what with your name and all." A thought seemed to strike him. Suspicion narrowed his gaze as he peered at Loki. "Assuming that you and Thor have Asgardian accents, why do you sound like you're out of Doctor Who?"
It took Loki a moment to place the reference. Suddenly the image of a blue box and a scrawny man in a brown coat popped into his mind. Book had planned to attend the screenings the Sci-fi Guild at the library would be hosting next month. He'd insisted that Loki would love it. But then he'd also forced Loki to suffer through marathons of Christmas themed movies involving talking snowmen; strange, puppet-like reindeer with shiny noses—at least he now understood Stark's reference—and an apparently endless supply of A Christmas Carol. The one with the strange blue creature and the rat had oddly been the least objectionable.
"I suppose this is simply what the All Tongue sounds like when heard in English."
"You're not talking English?"
Loki shook his head.
"But I'm hearing English." An almost distrustful look settled over him. "Explain."
"The All Tongue is a language infused with magic. Once learned, you will be able to understand and be understood by nearly all races in the nine realms."
The boy seemed to puzzle over it for a moment. "So, you're actually talking some crazy magic language and somehow I'm hearing English and you're hearing…whatever it was—the All Tongue?"
He gave a smug nod. "Though I wouldn't need the All Tongue to understand you. Not anymore."
"You know English? Why?"
"Being trapped here helped. The All Tongue's magic begins to fade if you yourself are not using it."
"That is so cool! Could you teach me?" His eyes grew bright as he leaned forward, tugging some of the wires with him. "I'd nail those foreign language requirements!"
Loki couldn't help but smile. Of course Book was considering his schoolwork when presented with the knowledge of aliens, magic, etc. "You are responding remarkably well to all of this."
"By 'all of this'," Book waved his hands around the room, "you mean extraterrestrials, pagan not-quite-deities, and magical universal translators? Yeah, I'm pretty zen about it."
"And this does not, as you say," he gestured vaguely, "weird you out?" Loki tensed as an unexpected bark of laughter forced its way from the boy's lips.
"Seriously?" the boy grinned. "A, thankfully, mellow Hulk is my nurse. Captain America and Tony 'Iron Man' Stark were arguing over the ethics of teaching me to play poker. The Norse freaking god of Thunder offered to share his wildberry Poptarts with me and the house keeps beating me at chess." He sank back into his pillows, crossing his arms. "My tolerance for weird is suddenly much higher than it was. So no, the fact that my homeless mute is actually some sort of alien mistaken for a deity that apparently brought me back from the dead with his blood," Book emphasized the word blood, "isn't as shocking as I once would have thought."
A wall seemed to slide over Loki's thoughts as he moved toward the window. Leaning against the rough sill, he gazed between the encroaching pine branches and out into the forest. Idly he twirled the blinds cord between his fingers, rolling the plastic nub back and forth.
Behind him, Book picked up on the sudden shift in atmosphere, but waited for Loki to speak. Yes, it was his blood in the boy's veins. What that would ultimately mean escaped him. That She had rewarded him for doing so made puppet strings seem to tighten about him.
"Had a good look at yourself lately?" he asked.
Book brushed along his dark streak. "Wasn't really one for skunk stripes before, but now…" he shrugged.
"And how do you feel?" asked Loki, peering at Book without actually turning from the window.
"Good, I guess. Kinda like I was hit by a truck, but considering," he scratched at where the rebar shard had skewered him. "I get tired easy, and they've got me hooked up to a machine for practically everything." Craning over his shoulder he pointed at a little black box with fluctuating lights. "I think that one monitors if I sneeze."
Turning swiftly, a move Loki noted was far less impressive when wearing Midgardian clothes, he stalked over to the bed and loomed over Book. "And you will immediately inform me if anything begins to feel abnormal or unusual?"
Book gently shoved Loki's arm. "Personal space, there. I'm not stupid. I get this is weird and obviously could go south since you and Dr. Banner have been being all suspicious. What's the deal anyways? Am I going to get superpowers?"
"No."
"Not even a small chance?" He seemed almost hopeful.
"Perhaps you could convince Dr. Banner to irradiate you?" As they talked, Loki stretched out toward Book with his magic, feeling it jump forward, eagerly greeting that which still resided in Book. The tight-knotted mixture of blood and power pulsed through him, beating for a heart that still knit back together. This wasn't true life, not yet. Until the magic finished repairing all the damage, Book would be dependent upon it. And though the magic was slowly fading as it completed its healing, Loki could also sense flares of energy arcing out sporadically. It was like looking at the surface of the sun as tendrils of fire occasionally spun off into space. So long as that was all the wild magic did, no harm would come to him.
And if it did more? If those little flares became a storm? Loki frowned. The answers to such questions led nowhere good. A dozen catastrophic outcomes presented themselves, each a slightly different shade of crisis. He would have to monitor Book until the healing was complete and the magic dissipated. Until then Book was quite possibly the most dangerous being in the house, just waiting for some catalyst to set him off.
Loki drew away, aware now of the spidersilk thread of power that connected the two of them. Unease flared. A magical tie was not easily made, not easily broken, and though only a gauzy filament, it might as well have been a chain of steel, linked with rings the width of his arm. If it remained, he and Book would be tied together until the boy's death. That thought unsettled Loki. He hadn't wanted to see Book die. He certainly didn't want to feel it at his very core, to stand witness as the boy's soul snuffed out and left only an empty shell behind.
Unease curdled his stomach, forcing him to close his eyes against a swirl of nausea. He couldn't think on this now. Instead he zeroed in on Book's words, focusing only on what the boy was saying.
"Come on, spill. You know practically everything about my past, but I've got next to nothing on you."
Loki made to protest as Book rolled his eyes.
"All I've got are half truths—and I'm not even sure how accurate my concept of anything was. I mean, I thought you were weird, like, from Canada. But another realm? No way I know how that works."
Giving a sigh, Loki waved limply with his hand. "What do you wish to know?"
"Anything! Just…I dunno, tell me something about growing up in Asgard."
For a long moment Loki stared at a blank patch of wall. He blinked suddenly and turned to face Book. "The All-father's horse calls me mother."
It was Book's turn to blink. "There is so very much wrong with that sentence."
Loki grinned. "I was a bit younger than you—equivalently—when everything began. Will you hear it?"
He nodded and burrowed into the pillows.
Steepling his hands, Loki pressed his fingers against his lips as he cast his mind back through hundreds of years. Vaporous images rose before him as he grasped at the words for his tale. He never looked at Book, his gaze intent upon nothing. The silence stretched.
"The wars with the Frost Giants were long over, their generals defeated, and their king cowed. Treasures had been taken from Jotunheim, the spoils of war and rightful prize of the victors." The muscles along his jaw jumped. "Troves of jewels, chests spilling crystals, weapons of great power—and the very heart of Jotunheim, the Casket of Ancient Winters. A tribute also was extracted from this monstrous race, and that year it was come due again. The giants had little worth giving, but they sent a great beast, a horse from the ice-shelves, caught wild among the bitter drifts and sheets of frost. Try though they might, our horse tamers could not master the devil and it was not long before he escaped."
He paused, his lips pressing more thinly together. "Your hovering is distracting." He did not raise his eyes as Stark appeared in the doorway behind him. "Leave or make yourselves comfortable. And no interruptions."
Book grinned as Stark, Thor, and Rogers crept in. The Avengers settled themselves about the room as a brief look of long suffering disgust ghosted across Loki's features.
"The giant horse?" prompted Book.
Loki's eyes slid shut as he began to speak again. "It burst its bonds and fled the city, trampling many in its path. The demon red of its planet burned from the icy caverns of its face, teeth flashing as it fled the city and ran wild in the open lands beyond. These sweeping plateaus and waving grasslands were home to the stock from which all Aesir horses came. These wild cousins were left to their freedom and their ways, their members occasionally caught to bolster the bloodlines of our battle steeds. It was among these that the Jotun beast began to travel."
"Many efforts were made to recapture the demon—since he preyed upon those that were weaker than he, and would trampled unwary travelers for their trespassing upon what he thought was his domain. There were also reports of mares dead in foaling monstrous births. This went on for some time and eventually incited a plan in Thor's mind…"
A/N: Whew…my internship is finally over and nobody died! There was a fair amount of blood going on in the costuming department, but that is par for the course…and one of the interns did screw into his thumbnail a bit (talent!). We didn't let him use power tools after that. I've got serious jetlag though—or at least that is what it feels like after so many weeks of long hours, routine and hard work and just suddenly, having to switch back to home and school year routines (my mother almost immediately had me picking and snapping beans *sigh*). My head is just not with it yet.
Originally this chapter and the next were one long chapter, but it was really just too long. Unfortunately, it wasn't a neat 50/50 split, so this chapter is a bit shorter, but next week's is still quite sizable. It's a flashback, which always brings me great joy. Also, for those of you who were wondering when we'd get to Book, here he is again in all his exuberant glory. And no, no magic powers for him…though he apparently is still hopeful.
Next Week: Loki finally gets to tell the tale of how he became Sleipnir's mother—and it can all be blamed on Thor.
QuiltedRose49: Why include the bit with Sleipnir? Because I'm a horrible person 😉. It's actually more because to me as a reader, that is the kind of thing that would stab me in the chest so…I figured it might do the same to others. That and Sleipnir is an important block in the foundation I'm laying for Loki's character progression, even if he isn't a major player in this story. I'm glad you're enjoying Loki—he's truly an amazing character to play with and I've really enjoyed being in his head and getting to let people see "behind the curtain" as to how his mind works (at least in my interpretation).
Molleyn: Thank you! That is a major compliment to say you are enjoying this even though it isn't your typical genre. It probably helps that even though there aren't romantic relationships in here, there are certainly relationships of other stripes at the center of the story. I'm so pleased you're liking it!