The Trickster: Ragnarok
by: Shadow Chaser
Disclaimer:
I do not own any characters from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. All characters belong to Marvel Entertainment, Marvel Comics, and Disney. I am not writing this story for profit, only for my own (twisted) amusement. I will try to return the characters unharmed, but some they might have a few scuff marks.
Story:
Chapter 6
It occurred to him why he felt so unsettled as he entered the Healing Halls. He knew that he had been expected at the emergency council session the Allfather was holding at the moment, but Loki somehow knew that was not the place to be. No, the place now was here in the Healing Halls, where the unknown quantity named Sleipnir resided after he had collapsed in the private gardens. Besides the sense of danger, the sense of something not quite right with the other man since he had arrived; Loki had a feeling that he was connected to the reason why General Tyr was dead.
Though he did not know what killed the General – the matter more than likely being discussed without his presence at the council session – it had to be connected to Sleipnir; it had to be. The coincidence was there and Loki was no stranger to coincidences nor of happenstance. A quick inquiry to one of the apprentices-in-training revealed where Sleipnir had been moved since his initial examination in the Soul Forge, and Loki rounded the corner, entering the small chamber that had been partitioned with curtains. The Healing Halls themselves had no doors nor quarters to house the wounded, all areas partitioned with curtains. Some of those curtains were laced with different types of spellwork, in cases of silence or even the muffle the pained cries of the dying. But the curtains were there because the Hall itself could easily be turned into a large triage center where mass spells could be cast across the room without interference or the like.
Sleipnir did not look surprised to see him as parted the curtain partitioning his area and entered; almost as if he was expecting it. That in of itself made Loki immediately go further on guard since Huugin had delivered the news of General Tyr's death.
"You come with questions, no doubt, my Prince," the red-headed man looked paler than normal, but his icy blue eyes were bright and focused. He was sitting up on his bed, the pillows behind him in a makeshift cushion, propping him up.
The statement was a bait; the reply to such a statement 'are you ready to provide answers' or any variation thereof would have enabled Sleipnir to gain the upper hand. But Loki was too experienced to fall for such an amateurish trick. Instead, he ignored Sleipnir's words and leaned against a pillar near his recovery bed as he cast a ward around the surrounding area. At the same time he saw the other man flinch a little as if he had been slapped across the face before a thin smile appeared on his lips.
"You think I had something to do with General Tyr's death," Sleipnir said, "perhaps slipped a hidden blade somewhere, even poison in his food during the feast the night before." The thin smile became a light sarcastic laugh, "Do not worry, my Prince, I am not like Jormungandr. Poison is not my forte."
"No, it is not," Loki agreed and saw the minute frown that graced the other man's pale features. "And yet it is something I find curious indeed."
"Oh?"
"Of why my questions have been thus unanswered," Loki drew out a small modular from the folds of the spaces-in-between and started to absently play with it. He could feel Jormungandr, curled in one of his pockets, make a small move as if to go towards the magick he had in his hands, but then stilled as if remembering that he was supposed to stay in his pocket. He noted that though Sleipnir had flinched a little from the blatant feel of magicks; his icy blue eyes were riveted to the modular and was following the twists and turns of the icosohedron in his hands as he peeled and added additional skeins and weaves in it. "You know as well as I do that though you claimed to not convince me you meant no harm, but to explain what had made me scour the library in my research about you; it has yielded little to no information."
"I mean no harm to Asgard," Sleipnir reiterated a little sharply and Loki allowed himself a small smile.
"See, there it is," he pointed out and saw him frown, as if he was confused, "something perhaps my idiotic brother would have accepted or even the Allfather and Allmother fooled by sentimental emotions because of your miraculous survival and return. Oh yes, it would be easy except I see the truth behind it."
"My Prince, I do not know-"
"Only those who realize that they are culpable in guilt would deny harm to anything," Loki interrupted with a pointed look, "only those who have committed previous acts or would know of such previous acts would say something to ensure the trust of others. You have harmed Asgard before."
Sleipnir's brow furrowed, making the angles on his narrow face sharper in the dim lighting relief of the Healing Halls. He opened his mouth to speak, but Loki held up a hand, stopping him.
"And I also find it curious that for all of my 'research' for which you seem not to have dissuaded me from, there is not one whit about you or of Sentinels. The term does not exist and though others have told me that it was to have started with you, none gave me the information of why and how. Even more curious is the praises, or lack thereof sung of you." Loki looked at Sleipnir and saw that the other man's frown was even more pronounced as he finished, "So tell me Sleipnir, what did you do to earn such lack of acknowledgment."
Sleipnir's icy blue eyes hardened as he glared at him. For a moment, Loki was struck at how eerie those eyes looked – so undeniably familiar and he dared not say terrifying – but it did stir something that he did not want to name as fear in him. He quickly brushed the feeling away and met the glare with a simple gaze of his own, his fingers still absently pulling and weaving in skeins to the containment modular he was creating. It was a pattern he had perfected through muscle memory.
The older man raised his chin to meet his look, "Has it occurred to you that there are some things that are not spoken of in polite company?" His glare sharpened before he gave him a thin-lipped smile, "But of course, you would think that all of Asgard would speak of tales and of glorious battles."
"Why not? It is such a culture for warriors," Loki returned the thin-lipped smile with a toothy one of his own, a part of him pleased that Sleipnir had answered him in such a fashion. "Your ignorance could be claimed by your years of exile on Midgard, but your words contradict what you have stated to the others."
"Oh?"
"You knew of Thor and I for one, know for a fact that the oaf would not keep his mouth shut regarding Asgardian culture. His foolish attempts to integrate his so-called friends, the Avengers, into our society would have provided you with a somewhat detailed knowledge of the current mentality here in Asgard. If you claimed to have been HYDRA, or behind it with Baldr for hundreds of years, then your knowledge of working behind the scenes and gathering information exceeds your capacity for subterfuge and the like," Loki was ruthless with his words and saw the other man shrink a little, attempting to maintain a calm stony face. "Your knowledge of Asgard is not as dated as you might have led others to believe."
"And you think me a threat?" Sleipnir asked, but Loki shook his head.
"No, quite the opposite, I think you an opportunity," he replied, "one of which would enable me to further my goals."
There was a sudden dangerous glint in the red-haired man's eyes as he pushed himself up further upright on his recovery bed, "I will not be used in such a way. No matter what you goals are my Prince."
Loki only smiled a little, "And there you have revealed another aspect of yourself." Sleipnir pulled short and looked at him as he continued, "You have already been used in such a way that has left a distaste within you. You understand what it means to be used, and it has revealed a truth in the bland words you have spoken of since your arrival. You understand and you have fought against such use. At least you have confirmed something, that you are this Baldr's familiar."
The other man shook his head, "Why are you doing this? I have spoken no falsehoods-"
"But not the whole truth-"
"What have I done to earn your ire? To earn this questioning?" the other man finished plaintively before gesturing with a hand around the area, "what have I done to resort to your spellcasting and magick use? Surely-"
"You are not so naïve to think I would fall for such petty tricks. It would have wheedled sympathy out of Thor, but you forget who you are dealing with for all of your vaunted knowledge gathered on your years of exile on Midgard."
"A cruel, petty Asgardian who thinks himself a God to rule over others," Sleipnir suddenly spat, "one who casts suspicions upon others when there is none to be had. Paranoid, fear-mongering, who is the one who would start wars? Certainly not Thor, but Loki, the self-proclaimed Trickster God." He shook his head derisively, "You are not your namesake. He was a better man than you. Noble, self-sacrificing, everything you are not as it is not me that has revealed his true colors, but rather yourself. Lady Sif was correct, you are jealous. I have done nothing of the sort to make you think that way. It is your own insecurities that drive you. You think me to steal the affection of the Allfather away from you, to steal your place by his side, his left hand. You think me to steal away your adopted mother, Frigga. That she was once had loved me as she loves Odin.
"You see me as a threat to your attempts to woo the Court into thinking magick would be accepted, would come back because you seek to usurp the position of Crown Prince for your own gain. You seek the approval of Odin so much that anyone who thinks lesser of you is beneath your notice and time and anyone who dares have Odin's affection is a threat." Sleipnir suddenly sat forward, "Well, let me tell you Loki Laufeyson, you are no son of Odin or of descent from the House of Bor."
Loki nearly crushed the modular he had finished in his hands; it stung, it really stung and it hurt to hear such words. He did not know why it felt like that, after all, Sleipnir's opinion of him was merely an annoyance, but somehow, it felt like someone had stabbed him in the gut and left the blade in there. Instead, forced himself to focus on Sleipnir's words, "And another piece of the puzzle falls into place."
The icy blue-eyed man made a noise to protest before he cut him off again, "As much as I detest Thor, I know him well enough that while he would reveal my adoption into the House of Odin, but he would never reveal who my birth father was. It is knowledge even he does not know about. Even if I were Jotun, the markings on my face would only be known to the Jotuns and their ruler. Tell me, Sleipnir, how is it that you have spent all these years avoiding Heimdall's gaze? Could it be perhaps you walked the shadows of Yggdrasil and spied upon the realms for your lord and master Baldr?
"You could have walked any time your master gave you enough magick. Yet I am willing to wager you walked to the other realms to search out information for him. You perhaps walked to Asgard more than once and only now you have come here for sanctuary," he finished quietly, watching Sleipnir with careful eyes. Even though Eir had confirmed that his core was ripped out, Loki took no chances that the other man would attack or even retaliate in some manner. Sleipnir still exuded the dangerous air around him, even with his pale visage and seemingly weakened self. "That, is no coincidence."
That finally got the reaction Loki wanted out of Sleipnir as the other man dropped his head for a long moment, a quiet snort issuing from his nose as he shook his head. His hands curled and uncurled both underneath and above his blanket. He finally looked up and smiled mirthlessly, "It was worth a try, was it not? To at least go to a home I cannot call as such anymore, because it pulls at you, calls to you, forces you to do things, unspeakable ones and those you wish you could gouge your eyes out over; to deafen yourself to the screams and agony of pain that washes across you."
The older man's smile grew brittle, "I thought that perhaps you might have had the knowledge, but now I see that you are just a boy who plays with the magick arts he knows nothing of. To speak so flippantly and bear no consequence to your actions...you cannot help me and so I realize what I have to do."
Loki tensed as Sleipnir lifted his right hand towards his chest and held his palm flat against it. A hideously blackened orb of sorts crackling with unchecked skeins of magick that arced miniature chains of seemingly lightning-like bolts, was drawn out from the space in between where his palm hovered above his chest. Loki immediately recognized it for what it was, the swirl of magicks, the oily feeling that wormed deep within himself resonating with what was drawn out. The orb was about the size of Sleipnir's palm as he finished drawing it out and held it in his hand, his icy blue eyes staring at it with an unreadable expression. A geas. Sleipnir had an unfulfilled geas within him judging by how the angry crackle of magicks swirled and lashed out as he held it in his hand.
"Who-," Loki demanded before he knew the answer, "Baldr."
"It was he who ripped my core out," Sleipnir replied softly, staring at the hideous black orb, "gave me this in return." He moved his hand back to his chest and the orb slowly disappeared, seemingly swallowed back up as it nestled within him once more. "So you see, I did tell the truth, from a certain point of view."
"And your contract?" Loki asked softly, mildly surprised that his own voice had not wavered in light of seeing someone else with such a hideous-looking contract. He could not help but stare at the place where Sleipnir's orb had once hovered. How could he have missed the obvious signs of a geas contract? He had been evasive with his answers, trying to find loopholes, pathways to avoid all but triggering the painful consequences of going against a geas contract. The other man had been clearly bleeding from the nose after trying to fight it to tell Frigga something in the gardens. Loki himself knew it very well as he had bled from stitched lips when he fought against the agony that ripped through his mind as Thanos mentally shredded it, shredded him to pieces. There had been signs since he had arrived in the throne room; he had just been too blind to see it, too startled like the others to focus on it.
Sleipnir only stared back at him before shaking his head slowly, "Of all the questions you come with, that...is the least of your worries, my Prince. You truly are just a boy, playing at magicks you cannot even begin to comprehend. I wonder what did she see in you to start teaching you the forbidden arts of magisters.
"Do you not know?" the other man hissed as Loki suddenly found his wrist in a vise-like grip, the modular dropping from his fingers as it was twisted painfully against his back. He had not even seen Sleipnir move, and for a brief moment thought it was an illusion that was still lying on the bed when it seemingly dissolved like an after image of sorts. "A geas is blood magick of a personalized sorts, contracts made and fulfilled with whom it was made with." His free hand drew an abrupt thin electric black line into the air-
IdontwanttodothisbutImustbecause
"-and to open the shadows to the voids of Yggdrasil, one must cross one's self. Those who understand this, cross their own cores. But there is another way; to cross one's self, one can easily use a geas borrowing magicks from the other side of the contract, because they would be crossing the inner most self-"
ImustbecauseImustbecauseImustbecause
Loki found himself abruptly shoved through, his mind automatically seizing the barest threads that tied him to Jormungandr, a remnant of taking part of his core two years previous, to not lose him in the voids- For a second saw the yawning darkness- That there was nothing there- And just as suddenly emerged out the other side into a dimly lit stonework ground.
ImustbecausebutImustImustImustbecausebecause
"-I am truly sorry, my Prince, but you forced my hand," Sleipnir's whisper tickled the hairs on the back of his neck as the vise-like grip on his arm was loosened. Not even a second later, the feeling of the portal disappeared and Loki drew in a sharp breath. It had happened so fast that he had not even had time to react, his only instinct was to ensure that Jormungandr was not lost in the voids of Yggdrasil in the brief horrifying moment he had seen the darkness envelop them.
"The first sacrifice," a voice boomed from the shadows beyond the dim light and Loki turned in time to see a mass of jagged red-black shards flying towards him.
It was as if starlight suddenly burst into supernova behind his eyes and for a second Heimdall thought he could see. The glorious beauty of the nine realms seemingly dazzled his all-seeing gaze as was the terrifying awesome power of the Convergeance-
He turned his gaze upon Midgard and saw the flashing cape of red and the familiar blue-silver armor of the Crown Prince, standing stoically next to a man with greying hair and a leonine feature that was unmistakably Baldr. He knew exactly where they were on Midgard. Thor, for once, was not all movement and boisterousness and Heimdall seized upon the chance to call for one of the ravens – Muunin! Huugin! - before he spotted the jagged red edges of crystalline knives glinting out of the corner of his eyes, through the pale wash of stars far beyond the realms-
It was headed straight for a familiar green-gold-black leather tunic and overcoat, but the second Prince was not his concern as he saw who wielded the Aether itself. He had the light powdery-white skin of his species, the Dark Elves, and his eyes were a pale blue. He had been thought dead when Bor Odinson had razed Svartalfheim for its defiance against Asgardian rule thousands of years ago. The fact that Malekith was alive, wielding the Aether-
And just like starlight suddenly collapsing in on itself, the dazzle he saw died and Heimdall was left wanting. He saw... He- He could not remember what he had seen-
The caw of one of the ravens alerted him to its arrival and he automatically held out a hand for it to land. Drawing his hand back, he saw Munnin with a curious look on his face, his bright black eyes blinking at him, avian head tilted to the side. Heimdall opened his mouth to send the message that he wanted to send-
Which was-
He looked out into starlight once more and thought he remembered seeing a flash of a red cape, Thor, but if there was any sign of Baldr, then he had not seen it yet. And the second Prince- Heimdall frowned...he remembered – or maybe he had seen amongst the stars – there had been red jagged crystalline something...but... It was important, but he suddenly found that his memories were muddled, like he could not part the murky starlight. He cast his gaze upon Asgard itself, but found no sign of the second Prince, not even in the Healing Halls where he had spotted him walking towards earlier. Sleipnir was still in his bed, recovering from whatever ailed him to collapse in the gardens.
He thought he had seen Loki... Heimdall frowned. The second Prince was prone to cloaking himself in the shadows and perhaps this was one of the times he deigned to do it – though for whatever reason why, he could not fathom.
As Munnin adjusted his perch on his arm, Heimdall could not help but stare at Sleipnir's sleeping form, a part of him knew that something was not right. Something shadowed his mind and the man he once knew and called a close friend was somehow responsible for it. He had said to the second Prince that Sleipnir was a good man. Whether or not that remained to be seen was another question and the only thing Heimdall knew was that something had happened, something he should have remembered and seen.
Loki's instincts took over as he rolled forward on the stonework ground, bits of rubble and sharp pebbly rocks digging into him as he met the attack head on with his arm raised. The bluish hue of a shield formed just as the shards of jagged red-black crystalline thing hit. His arm shook from the impact before he dodged to the side to avoid a burst of the red-black shards of crystal. Loki only had the barest of moments to catch his breath before he dove forward, rolling into a crouch and threw two daggers towards the source. He heard them impact something that sounded hollow, but the red-black shards of crystal flew at him again and he lashed out with a wave of magick.
He thought it would shatter the incoming attack, but instead, it seemingly consumed it and he found himself gritting his teeth against the onslaught, pulling his conjured shield tighter around him. He could feel bits of pieces cut into him, but most passed almost harmlessly before the attack relented. He looked up and saw a shadowy figure just beyond the dim edges of light, the bits and swirl of red-black spinning miniature whirlwinds in an outstretched hand.
Loki counted the fingers, five, which meant he was dealing with a humanoid of sorts instead of an alien or creature from beyond the Void. The Chitauri had six fingers, their overlord, the Other gripping his halberd with distinctive hands when he had met him after being pulled from the Void. Seeing that his opponent was faltering for a second, Loki did not hesitate and tried to gather the threads of magick to pull open a portal to return to Asgard when he felt them slip out of his grasp. He reached out and grasped them again, only to find it seemingly dissolving before the shadowy figure at the edges of the dim light laughed.
The laugh chilled him, long, deep, but it was not the booming volcanic drag that was Thanos' mad laugh. This was a deep pitch that somehow sounded lunatic and he glared out into the darkness, conjuring another shield-
Only to slam forward into the ground, a sharp cry of pain emerging from his lips as he felt numerous needles stab into his back. He instinctively conjured a shield above him as the red-black crystalline shards pinged off of his shield. He let loose a quiet hiss of pain, feeling the distinctive slick wetness that he knew was blood dripping from his wounds. As he moved a little, he could feel the pull of torn skin and the chill of the air above it. But the fact that there was no deep-seeded pain meant that the wounds were mostly superficial, though he knew the attack had shredded his tunic and overcoat.
He could feel Jormungandr squirming in his pocket and with one hand grabbed at the pocket he had nestled in, stilling the serpent from doing anything else. Jormungandr must have gotten his silent message as the snake stopped trying to move to help and settled. He did not need for the snake to be caught up in this when he himself could not even see who in the Norns was attacking him in this dark, dank place.
"Impressive, son of Odin," the voice the laugh had belonged to spoke up quietly and Loki strained his ears as he looked to see more than one shadow hover at the edges of the dim light. There was definitely more than one here, but surely all of them did not have whatever had been attacking him. He could not make out who they were or from what realm they were, but he did note that they moved in near silence. That meant they either had sound-dampening armor or they were of a species that were light on their feet, made to either attack quickly and retreat quickly not for prolonged battles.
Asgardians were the jack of all trades and mages certain knew how to mask their own noises. Jotuns had heavy feet that enabled them to be front-line soldiers as did the fire demons of Muspelheim. There were only two realms he knew of whose inhabitants were light on their feet – the Light Elves of Alfheim and their counterparts the Dark Elves of Svartalfheim.
"Show yourself, Elf," he pushed himself off of the ground, suppressing the wince and pull of the cuts on his back and kept his shield up with a free hand. Loki dared not draw out his sceptre yet, not wanting to show them that he had an advantage. Again, he tried to grasp at the skeins and threads of Yggdrasil to transport himself out of wherever he had been left by Sleipnir, but like the last two times, the skeins seemingly dissolved from his fingers no matter how hard he gripped them. Loki knew he was visible to Heimdall, but if Heimdall had not opened a Bifrost connection to him to get him out of here either he had far more enemies surrounding him that would be a grave threat to Asgard or that he could not see him – or as he was beginning to suspect, both. The fact that he could not even grasp the skeins of Yggdrasil worried him – but also puzzled him. How in the world did Sleipnir open one up to here in the first place?
"He did say you were clever," the voice returned from seemingly all around him as Loki looked warily around, the spell for several fireballs tingling at the tips of his fingers. "But not clever enough to know that your useless grasping to open a portal into the shadows of Yggdrasil will have no effect here. The final resting place of the Aether can only be physically found, not by means of magick or of teleportation technologies."
Loki set himself in a defensive posture, absently tugging at the wisp of the link that he had grasped onto while he had been flung into the portal by Sleipnir. Though he could not open a portal at the moment, he at least wanted to ensure that his escape was as swift as possible and that meant making sure Jormungandr's remnant core skeins were nearby instead of grasping onto it at the last minute. He felt the serpent respond by shifting in his pocket.
He tensed a little as he saw a lone figure finally step into the dim light. He had the pale powdery-white skin of his species, but instead of the familiar brown eyes that Loki had come to associate with the current Dark Elves of Svartalfheim, they were a piercing blue. There was also the shock of white hair and positively ancient armor that the Elf wore. He had only seen armor like that in the various historical tomes he had occasionally read in Asgard's library. Either the Dark Elf had stole it from some clan's heirloom on Svartalfheim, or he really was as ancient as the tomes had described the first Svartalfheim Dark Elves as such. He was inclined to believe the latter only because of what the Dark Elf had said – the final resting place of the Aether.
Many had always thought that the relics in the Vaults of Asgard were just that, relics. Loki was inclined to think that Thor probably thought as the masses did, but he himself knew that the relics were more than that. They were the very weapons Asgard had collected and conquered the nine realms with. Formerly protected by the Destroyer who only answered to the one that wielded Gungnir, Loki had studied each of the relics during times of idleness as well as when he had been learning under Death. He knew of the weapons in the Vaults and what they were; especially of one particular one that Thanos sought two years previous in his attack on Asgard.
The Infinity Gauntlet.
The Gauntlet itself was a powerful weapon, capable of withstanding what it had been made to hold, but it was only that – a defensive weapon without the six gems, or stones, to augment it. The stones themselves had been said to be created at the beginning of the universe, of time immemorial when nothing existed and were the leftover bits of cosmic energy when the universe was done shaping itself. By themselves, the stones were capable of immense destruction as well as construction, each one representing an aspect of the universe. But since they had existed as one before the creation of the universe, there had been a gauntlet of sorts created so that whomever, whatever deity, being, that had created the universe would be able to use it to unmake the universe or mold it in their image.
The records in Asgard's library made no mention of when or how Asgard received the Infinity Gauntlet, but it had always existed in its Vaults. Loki had suspected it was also how the Aether had come into Asgard's possession, but unlike the Gauntlet, which had no offensive capabilities, the Aether had supposedly been kept elsewhere. There was no mention of the Aether being an Infinity Stone in any of the texts that Loki had read, but he had long had his suspicions as he knew there was no way that Asgard would have kept a gauntlet, of all things, in the Vault without some reason. He had long suspected it was perhaps in a pocket of sorts within the shadows of Yggdrasil, impossible to get to by any means, even with his knowledge of traveling the paths and keeping an eye on the skeins and weaves of the shadows as not to get lost and be forever lost to the void.
It was where he had found Thanos, falling from the void only to be pulled into another 'branch' so to speak; Thanos' exile or perhaps imprisonment from when he had fought Bor Allfather before Odin ascended to the throne. Who was to say the Aether was hidden in the same way? This Dark Elf had all but confirmed that the Aether was an Infinity Stone. But it still left the lingering question as to why he was left here by Sleipnir when he clearly intended to make sure he died, or at least did not interfere with whatever he planned for Asgard. He had a feeling that Sleipnir was counting on him to die here, considering the greeting he received.
Which meant that the older man knew that this Dark Elf and his cohorts would be here, at this very exact moment. Sleipnir was somehow in communication with them, but he did not understand why. How did he know the exact moment-
Loki stiffened as he realized how Sleipnir had pulled it off. The man had practically hinted it the whole damn time and he had ignored all signs of it until it was right in front of him. Sleipnir clearly had no magick core, and the remnant magick he had used to transport himself to Asgard was borrowed as confirmed by Eir. But he had compensated by using the geas that had bound him to Baldr, a magick that used the cores of those contracted to it. Geas were blood magick, forbidden magick – just like walking the shadows of Yggdrasil amongst other things. Sleipnir had borrowed the core and magicks of his master through the connections of both by being the virtue of his familiar and the geas and used it to open a portal in his attack on Loki.
But it still did not explain how he was able to open a portal into where the Aether rested; unless the Dark Elf in front of him was lying. But there was an element of truth to what the Dark Elf was saying – for one thing, the ancient armor and general agelessness of his opponent in front of him. The other thing was that it was the resting place of the Aether – now in the hands of the Dark Elf; he had no reason to lie when he had every intention of killing him in a place where there was technically one way to escape.
Running to whatever ship the Dark Elves had arrived in to this place was not an option – even Loki knew that his spellcasting was limited and he did not know how many Dark Elves were beyond the dim lighted area he was in. He could cloak himself, but the more prudent thing was to escape, especially if this place was a maze or something. The tomes he had read hundreds of years ago during his studies mentioned nothing of where the Aether was housed or where any of the other Infinity Stones rested.
So then how did Sleipnir open a portal to a place where it was claimed that no portal could be opened? The only other power that could conceivably nullify the effect the Aether had was if there was another Infinity Stone-
Loki stilled as he realized that Sleipnir did have access to another Infinity Stone. Through the geas he made with Baldr, this mysterious Baldr was supposedly in possession of the Chitauri sceptre. The sceptre which he and others had thought was powered by the Tesseract... When he had been given the weapon by the Other through Thanos, he had only been told that it was a weapon of great power and had the ability to bend the will of others to his own.
He had used it against Agent Barton, Dr. Selvig, and another SHIELD agent during his escape from the facility where the Tesseract had been held. It was not a Tesseract-based sceptre as they had all thought it was.
It was an Infinity Stone if Sleipnir, using Baldr's geas, had indicated by opening a portal into this place.
And Loki realized that he had known all along. It had been the barest whisper of his thoughts, easily pushed aside, yet kept coming back to him like an afterthought of sorts. He had even told Thor that he needed to find it to repay his debt to him to rescue his friends in London. His thoughts soured in annoyance as he looked at the Dark Elf. He knew what he had to do. He had one chance, judging by the curl of the blood-red crystalline shards that were swirling around the Dark Elf in front of him. Whomever he was, he must have taken the Aether into his very being, using his own life force to fuel its destructive power. To what end, Loki did not know, but he was not inclined to stick around and find out.
He had one chance, but was he willing to do what Sleipnir did and use the connection that had haunted him since he had fallen into the void of Yggdrasil three years ago? Dare he open the geas connection to Thanos?