A/N: Whelp, this marks the end of the last full month of updates - only three chapters to go! (And I hope all of you have been surviving the flood of HD IW gifs, I certainly haven't)
Peter wanted to refuel and resupply before they left again, and the others wanted a meal not cooked by a half-incompetent cook in their understocked kitchen. Loki didn't stop them, but he didn't join them. He had just found the nearest balcony and sat down, back against the railing, looking out over the city and soaking in the afternoon sunlight.
"I thought I might find you here, omnye."
Loki closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the warm metal rods. "I was wondering who would look for me first."
A cushion dropped to the ground with a soft thud before Ramonda sat on it. "I had amnesia once, when I fell down the stairs and hit my head. The expectations and hopes of those around you… It is frustrating. And exhausting."
Loki told himself to stay quiet, but between the lulling sunlight and her understanding tone, the words slipped out anyway. "I have to remind myself not to be afraid of Gamora."
She rested a light hand on his shoulder. "That is nothing new."
Confusion drove him to finally look at her, tearing his face away from the rays of sun. "It isn't?"
Ramonda shook her head. "Your memories of that year haunt you still, and she is an integral piece of them. But you have come to love her. I think that, perhaps, you even love her all the more for it."
Loki blinked, trying to make his tired mind work out her meaning.
"The two of you share… a sort of kinship," Ramonda elaborated. "A pair of Thanos's unwilling pawns, tortured into doing the despicable to save your own lives. But the two of you also escaped, and now work to do everything you can to compensate for what you were forced to do. And I believe that gives the two of you a support no one else can provide."
"And does she feel… anything?"
Ramonda tilted her head, considering. "She does not confide in me, so it is not my place to say for certain, but it would not surprise me."
"Hm," was all Loki said, thinking back on the last few days. She had seemed protective, even to the point of recklessness, yet more than ready to leave him alone. Did that mean anything?
"Enough thinking for now," Ramonda scolded gently, producing a wrapped food of some sort from the pocket of her sweater. "Snickers," she said. "Eat some."
Loki took the bar, sniffing at it. His stomach growled at the chocolaty scent, so he unwrapped it and took a nibble. "Oh my gods," he said, immediately taking a massive bite. "This is- so good-"
Ramonda flicked his ear. "Don't speak with your mouth full, Loki."
"Sorry," Loki mumbled, hiding his mouth with the back of his hand. He paused, swallowing his mouthful, considering the food and looking back at her. "You… Why do you remind me of my mother?"
She smiled bittersweetly. "That would be the story you sensed earlier, omnye."
Loki waited for her to start, taking another bite.
Ramonda clasped her hands over her knees, looking down at them as her gaze faded into the past. "I had a nephew, whose existence was kept a secret from me until it was too late. He was severely wronged by his uncle and the world, driving him to grow into a violent man. His heart was in the right place, but his mind…" She shook her head, tears shimmering in her eyes.
"I never got the chance to help him," she went on. "But you…" She took his hand, squeezing tight. "You are a prince, a god, and far, far older than I could ever hope to be. But when we met, when the battle was over, all I saw was a broken boy, starved for a guiding love in a cruel galaxy. Much like Erik was. So I decided to help Thor and Brunnhilde give you the love you needed. And I suppose, in the process, I began reminding you of Frigga. As time went on, we began moving beyond those initial reminders, until our bond became unique and strong on its own."
"Not mother and son, but… othandekayo and omnye," Loki said.
"Indeed," Ramonda said, dipping her head. "It took quite some stumbling around before we settled on those names. We had crossed the point of simply Ramonda and Loki, but I will never claim to be Frigga."
Peter poked his head out of the doorway. "Hey, uh, hate to barge in, but we're ready to go."
Loki stood, biting back a groan as he forced himself to leave the sunlight. Ramonda rose as well, using him as a support. He started to head inside, but she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, turning him so she could kiss his cheek.
"No matter what, I will be here for you," she promised.
He smiled, resting his head against hers for a moment. "Thank you, othandekayo."
She stroked his cheek, tenderly nudging his chin up. "Good luck, omnye."
-MCU-
Peter let autopilot do the flying, feet propped on Gamora's lap as she watched the stars pass by. He just kept staring at the message Dey had sent. It contained only two pieces of useful information – Iekhinsoe, the healer's name, and Aglora, the planet's name. "Are we seriously trusting Loki's brain to some dude? We literally only know his name and what planet he lives on."
"Nova Prime has heard many stories about him," Gamora replied, humoring him despite his many times asking that already. "He is rumored to have healed many things others could not."
"Rumored being the key word here," Peter said.
"We've had many successes based solely on rumor."
"Yeah, successful missions. This is Loki's brain we're talking about this time."
Gamora rubbed his leg. "This was Loki's decision, Peter. If you want to go try to talk him out of it, then go ahead, but he could use a bit of hope right now."
"…Yeah, I'm gonna go talk to him," Peter decided. "He's in the dining area, right?"
"Yes," she said. "But, Peter-"
Peter ignored her, going downstairs. "Hey, L-"
Something smacked him in the forehead.
"Ow!" he exclaimed, spotting a screw hitting the ground by his feet. "What the he-"
A second screw hit his cheek. "Zip it!" Rocket hissed.
Peter finally spotted the reason. Rocket sat at the table, tinkering with something as per usual. And across from him, Loki slumped across the table, snoring slightly, head pillowed on his sketchbook.
"Oh," Peter said quietly. He crossed his arms. "You know, when Ramonda and I told him to rest, this is not what we meant."
"It ain't what he meant either, but he wouldn't stop bugging me about those memories he drew, so I drugged his water."
"You drugged his water?" Peter exclaimed, voice rising again.
"Shush!"
Peter gestured at their snoring sorcerer. "He ain't waking up! How much did you even dose him with?"
"He'll wake up in time," Rocket said dismissively.
Peter nudged Loki's shoulder. "Loki? Buddy?"
Loki started awake, just sluggishly enough that Peter could grab his wrist before he sent his water flying. "I can walk," he slurred, tone tinged with panic.
"Whoa, hey, you're safe, remember?" Peter soothed, quickly letting go of his wrist.
He pushed himself up, leaning heavily on his elbows. "Right," he muttered. "Why do I feel like I've been drugged?"
"You're just tired," Peter lied, glaring at Rocket. He at least had the decency to look a little guilty, subtly moving Loki's water away from him. "Come on, let's get you to your room."
Loki wobbled as he stood, but Peter caught him, ducking under his arm and leading him off. He half-fell onto his bed, head narrowly missing the wall. Peter sat on the edge of the bed. "You really wanna go through with this?"
"Imagine if you were stuck in the worst moment of your life, and Gamora's touch brought confusion and longing instead of comfort, and you remember adult Groot but not this Groot, and the others are strangers."
Peter winced. "So that's what's been going through your head?"
"More or less," Loki said. He scrubbed his hands over his face. "So yes, I want to do this. I can't live like this, Peter. Please don't try to talk me out of it again."
Peter sighed, resting a hand on Loki's leg. "I'm sorry, I just… You've been my best friend for a while now, and I guess it just never occurred to me that I could actually lose you, cause Asgardian lifespans and all. But now…"
"I'm not dead, Peter," Loki pointed out wryly.
"But you're also not… you," Peter said bluntly.
"Torture does that to a person," he deadpanned.
Peter said nothing, rubbing at the phantom pain of Ego's tentacle stabbing through his chest, pinning him in place as his family and Walkman were crushed, as his mind screamed but his body failed him. And he knew that was nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to what Loki had survived.
"Look," Loki said, levering himself up on one elbow to finally look at Peter. "I want to remember this, and Thor and Valkyrie and Ramonda. I've been here, I've been to Wakanda, and I know, I feel that I have a home and a family. Whatever spell Beb put on me, that much has broken through it. But I'm also stuck in those caves, where I screamed and screamed and screamed some more, where hell was a preferable alternative to life, and… and you have no idea what that's like, and I keep thinking that all of this is a dream and I'll wake up to the cell door opening so I can be dragged off again. And anything is better than that life, Peter. Anything. Even being turned into a shell with no memories at all."
Peter swallowed. "That's, um… that's grim, buddy."
One corner of Loki's mouth twitched into a weary smirk. "That's my life."
"I know," Peter said. "Just don't give up on it, ok?"
Loki laid down, looking out at the stars. "I wish I could say I wouldn't, but… I'm tired."
"Get some rest, then," Peter said. "I'll wake you when we're there."
Loki said nothing, and Peter left, relieved when Loki didn't close the door after Peter didn't. Gamora watched as he returned silently to the pilot's seat, switching autopilot off and taking over, hands tight on the controls. "That bad?" she asked.
"This better work," was all he said.
-MCU-
Loki stepped into a field of bright yellow flowers bordering a forest of closely-crowded, vine-covered trees. Thick undergrowth drove Rocket upwards, leaping from tree to tree to avoid trying to shove through or jump over the bushes and sprawling tree roots. The others were stuck in single file, letting Drax lead to kick aside what he could. Loki didn't miss that Peter chose to walk behind him, close enough to bump into him when particularly large bushes tripped him up.
"Would you back off?" he snapped after maybe the fifth collision.
"But-"
"Peter," Gamora warned. Peter pursed his lips but backed off. Loki shot a grateful glance at Gamora, but she just gave him a silent warning of his own in return, concern simmering beneath it.
Loki sighed. Why did I say that? Of all the things to admit, that's what slips out?
You did try to end it all. More than once.
He gave himself a mental shake, banishing those memories before that utter despair and hopelessness could overcome him again. If I didn't let go on the Bridge, Odin would have dropped Thor, too. And in Thanos's control… that was… extreme. But I have friends here.
Do you? his mind whispered. How much do you really trust this? Them? Her?
Loki lifted his chin and forced his thoughts elsewhere, focusing instead on following Gamora and Drax. How exactly they eventually found the place, Loki wasn't quite sure, but after a couple hours, the forest broke, revealing a pair of log cabins surrounded by haphazardly-arranged plots of colorful herbs. Flags and ribbons hung from the trees circling the land, while little statues cluttered up the already-narrow walkways around the different plots.
Drax stepped aside, letting Peter slip into the lead as they carefully picked their way to the front door of the nearest cabin. It was labeled "No injury, go away!" in a few dozen languages, all sloppily hand-painted in different colors and in different stages of fading away. Peter knocked, immediately checking his knuckles for flakes of paint and brushing them off.
"You're not hurt. Can you not read?" someone called from inside in an angry, high-pitched voice.
"I can read," Peter protested. "But my friend is- well, he's not injured technically, but-"
"Put him in front of the door then," the person snapped. "But don't step on my plants!"
They all looked down at the tight spaces they could barely fit into already. If they wanted to switch positions, they would all have to back out they way they'd come and then pick their way all the way back. "Hey, can't you kind of fly?" Peter asked. "You know, like Wanda- er, you don't remember her…"
"You use telekinesis to lift yourself up, I think," Gamora added much more helpfully.
"…I told you about that?" Loki asked.
"You were fallin' off a miles-high cliff into a raging ocean, you didn't have much choice," Rocket said. "Even you Asgardians ain't that indestructible."
"Your face when you finally landed was quite amusing," Drax laughed.
"Come on, Loki, none of us wanna shuffle all the way back there," Peter urged.
"I hate this," Loki muttered. But he bent his knees, focusing his magic. It flickered to life, wrapping around his feet and hands like boots and gloves. Then he hauled himself up with his mind alone, wobbling the entire time as he struggled to lift himself. Drax and Peter backed up and Loki pulled himself forward. Finally, after a few moments that felt like an eternity, Loki let himself drop.
"Perfect superhero landing," Peter congratulated him.
"That is the most awkward use of my magic," Loki complained.
"You should practice it more," Mantis suggested. "That way you will not shake like a leaf every time you must use it."
A fair point, but I'm not going to admit that. "Can we come in now?" Loki called through the door.
The door cracked open, revealing a wrinkled face framed by bushy grey hair. He held a monocle up to his squinting right eye; his left was a blind milky white. "Hmm. Yes, I see your problem, young'un."
"Bet you haven't been called that in a few centuries," Peter whispered.
"You would be surprised," Loki retorted.
"Come in, come in," the man invited, swinging the door open. He grabbed Loki's hand and half-dragged him through the one-room cabin, cluttered with things Loki had no name for and divided by painfully colorful curtains, to another door. That opened to a tunnel that connected to the second cabin, also with only one room, but no curtains this time. It was just as chaotic as the garden, full of wooden tables of various sizes covered in potted herbs, with dozens of dreamcatcher-like objects dangling from the ceiling and pinned to the walls. In the exact center was a table covered in… dirt and grass.
"Lie there," the man ordered. He was a hunchbacked little thing, covered in robes that hung loosely about his scrawny figure. "I'm Iekhinsoe. Call me Ik," he said as he bustled around, plucking herbs from various spots, ducking between the Guardians' legs. Loki perched on the edge of the grass table, the plants making his bare hands itch.
"I said lie down!" Ik snapped, now mashing the herbs into a pulp. Grumbling, Loki obeyed, knowing there would be dirt in his hair when he sat up again.
"Your friend is suffering from a memory-blocking spell, correct?" Ik asked.
"Ye-" Loki started.
"Shush!" Ik scolded. "I was asking the Zehoberei."
"Yes," Gamora answered, shooting a glance at the others. "We don't understand why it has not broken."
"Yes, yes, he is a very powerful sorcerer," Ik agreed. "I understand why you mortals would be confused."
"He's not-" Peter started.
"Even Asgardians die. My kind does not. Therefore, he is mortal," Ik explained impatiently. "But that does not matter. What matters is that this is his only chance to regain his lost memories."
"What?" Loki exclaimed, lifting his head.
Ik pushed him back down with one wrinkled, surprisingly strong hand. "These hidden memories, they are largely traumatic, yes?"
"Yes," Gamora said, resting a hand on Loki's shoulder.
"As I thought," Ik said, donning a pair of thick yellow gloves. "This blockage is no longer from the Bleloter magic, but rather from his own mind. The simple fact is that he does not want to remember."
"That don't make sense. He's been trying-" Rocket started.
"It is a subconscious ailment. I doubt he even realizes he is fighting them, and due to his own skill, it would take some extremely perceptive sorcery for another to realize it's him. But, once I apply this, he will most definitely realize," Ik said, scooping up a glob of sludge-brown herb paste onto one finger.
"Whoa, whoa, what's that gonna do?" Peter asked, sticking a hand out to intercept Ik.
"Do not touch this!" Ik hissed, jerking back from Peter as Peter jerked back from him. "It will induce a trance. I cannot tell you more, for it is different for each individual. But if an unaffected person touches it, it will wreak havoc on your memories. And if he does not regain his memories by the end, he will never regain them."
"What?" Loki demanded again, shifting away from Ik.
"You could wait centuries for the same result," Ik said dismissively, pulling Loki back to the table. "It is either wait, or try this now. I will not take you in a second time."
Loki blocked Ik's arm, hesitating. "Has anything else ever worked for this?"
"No."
Loki glanced around at the others, at the faces that should have brought him comfort. His eyes asked the question he couldn't quite voice, and it was Gamora who replied: "It's your decision, Loki."
He locked eyes with Peter. The leader dipped his head just slightly.
He laid back with a sigh, closing his eyes. "Do it."
Almost before he could even taste the paste immediately being smeared onto his lips, unconsciousness swept over him.
