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 9

They slowly emerged into the light cast by the mote. Loki saw that they were seemingly mortal; dressed in the black military-style uniforms of one of Midgard's many self-proclaimed military forces. He shifted his feet a little, summoning his glaive to his hands from the spaces-in-between as he noted the distinct stylized patch of a skull with many arms from it - HYDRA. He sensed a foulness of sour magick from them, as if it was artificially placed, sickening them from within. There was something not quite right with the mortals that surrounded him. He received his answer as he saw some of their skin glow, as if molten lava of sorts surged just underneath it. The sour taste of magick seemingly hummed a mournful tune, if it could have actually done so, as if it was not a natural thing and caution whispered in the back of his mind.

Jormungandr's loud hiss echoed in the cavernous space, his body crunching over freshly fallen snow and debris as he slithered his way next to Loki. His head twisted this way and that as his skin darkened and became more cobra like, the flare of his hood and rattle of tail warning the unnatural soldiers not to come any closer. The soldiers were silent as they continued their advance and just before he saw the tense coil of glowing muscles, ready to strike, he struck first. He fired a blast of arctic air with the glaive, the cool rush of a thousand ancient blizzards freezing several soldiers in place.

At the same time, Jormungandr flicked his tail towards the frozen mass, shattering it into tiny pieces as bits of frozen blood sprayed into the air. Loki dodged the sudden rapid firing of automatic weapons, blocking several bullets with his shields as he twisted underneath the first punch thrown at him. He slashed his glaive downwards, cutting through muscle and sinew and thought the soldier dead when he saw the skin seemingly turn molten red-orange and seal up, nearly trapping the blade of his glaive in its wound. Loki only pulled the blade out in time as the wound healed and the soldier-like creature flung himself at him.

He burned.

It was like someone had taken his hands and body into the fires of Muspelheim as he reacted on instinct and broke through the crippling bear hug twisting out of the grip and quickly stabbed the creature in the chest several times with a conjured dagger. A swift kick to the creature's chest sent him flying backwards before Loki fired his glaive, freezing him just before he impacted the remnants of a quinjet and shattered into pieces. He summoned a jet of water from the remnants of dripping pipes and flung it at the incoming soldiers, all of them glowing now, their eyes inhumanly hungry. Jormungandr roared, a high pitched whine that half sounded like bricks dragged across steel plates. It was at odds to the serpentine creature he was, as he flattened, rolled, and twisted his body this way and that, flinging soldiers that ran at him like rag dolls.

Loki quickly fired swift bolts of icy power that followed his water trail, freezing and disabling the soldiers that had charged at him. He ducked and rolled under the blow of another, only to feel himself slam to the ground by a very strong kick and faltered for a second, unable to believe that such a puny mortal could kick him like that. He paid for his moment of distraction as burning hands grabbed his shoulder and Loki growled, twisting out from the grip as he slammed the butt of the glaive into the offending pair of hands, sending the seemingly creature-like soldier into the air. He sent sharp black crystalline-like knives into the soldier, ripping him to shreds before pivoting on his foot and cleaved another in the head.

Loki watched the half-second it took for the wound to seal over as the soldier only gave him a bloodless grin, half of his eyes and skull broken, but only smiled in return as he flung the soldier around with his glaive, his arms pulling at the extra weight before he ripped the blade out again and the soldier crashed into two of its kind, sending them away. He only had a moment to catch his breath as a sudden wave of dizziness assaulted him before he righted himself and fired off several blasts from his glaive. He could feel the acute magick drain on him, and looked to see Jormungandr busy fighting the soldiers that had surrounded him, much more intelligent than the mindless beasts he had thought they were.

They were dodging around Jormungandr's coils and he knew that the serpent would not grow any larger, lest risking the collapse of whatever was left of the hanger. Jormungandr hissed and screamed, angry that his attacks were slowly being thwarted. Loki gritted his teeth and glared around the area, the glowing eyes, seemingly growing in number as he held his glaive in front of him in a defensive manner. He had woefully underestimated whomever had set this trap. These were not ordinary mortals, their unnaturally glowing skin attested to that as well as the sour taste of magick that he could feel in the air, but the fact that they hit almost as hard as Captain Rogers. Rogers himself put up a good fight when they had clashed at Stuttgart three years previous, but these...creatures' touch burned things, much like the fire demons of Muspelheim.

He had faced far worst than a mindless mob of mortals clearly after him, but Loki also knew that he had the full advantage of his magick at his disposal. He could see at least five of them trying to surround him and made his decision. "Jor!" he shouted as he spun quickly. At the same time he fired the power of the Casket of Ancient Winters in a wide circle, freezing the five in place. Loki was not done yet as he pulled the lighted mote above his head towards him and grabbed the modular before slamming it into the ground at the same time with the butt of his glaive, sending the explosion of spellwork crisscrossing the remnants of the hanger bay.

The light around him darkened as Jormungandr hastily coiled his body around him, his head hovering just above as the spellwork rumbled across the broken ground. Tremors immediately wracked the area in a concentric wave. Loki saw the frozen creatures shatter and burst into congealed blood and pieces of flesh before the earthquake-like wave started to shake the rest of the area. Spikes of ice shot up from the ground as the earthquake traveled outward. Sparks of electricity and screeches of metal shook the area as Loki poured more magick into the remains of the lighted modular and sent the world-freezing power of the Casket of Ancient Winters into the utter destruction of the base. He could feel the drain acutely now, the dizziness that threatened to send him to the ground, but ignored it as he felt the base implode around him and Jormungandr. The snake's coils tightened around him, dimming the amount of light he had, but he ignored the snake's concern. When he was sure the base was destroyed, slowly released his hand from the modular, the remnants of the mote of light burned into a destructive rune on the ground.

He opened eyes he did not realize he had closed when he had cast the spell as he heard and saw Jormungandr's large coils slowly loosen around him. He realized he had all but knelt on the ground and slowly stood up. His breath came in harsh gasps, the cool air of the Alpine mountains blowing small crystals of water as the dim moonlight shone through what remained of the partially destroyed hanger bay. As Jormungandr's coils finally loosened enough for him to see, he saw that the base was utterly flattened, the treeline and snowy hills visible from where he stood.

There was no sign of the glowing red-eyed creatures that had attacked him.

Loki let loose a quiet shuddering sigh before he staggered and slammed the end of his glaive into the ground, trying to steady himself as his world spun. He felt like he was about to throw up as he dry heaved, nearly falling to the ground. His hands gripped the intricate grooves of his weapon as he took heaving breaths, the creep of exhaustion hitting him full force.

"L-Loki-"

He had not noticed when Jormungandr had shifted to his human form as he felt the pair of spindly hands grip his shoulders tight and hissed slightly when they came in contact with the burns he had received from the soldier-creature that had managed to grab him earlier. He could feel the half-melted metal plates of a casual armor that had protected him ride against his skin, cutting the wounds and burns deeper.

"Loki-"

Whatever concern Jormungandr was about to say was lost as howls filled the air. Loki managed to look up to see the nearest pile of rubble shift as a red-orange glowing hand managed to free itself. He turned to see the metal and concrete piles of rubble around him shift, more glowing hands and arms making themselves known as the inhuman creatures seemingly came back to life. "Jor-"

"You are exhausted-"

"I know my own limitations," he roughly pushed Jormungandr's hands off of his shoulders and pulled himself up, leaning heavily on the glaive. Jormungandr could not heal him, not without his core, yet he persisted by attempting to put his hands on the burn wounds on his shoulders. The former Healer was an idiot for not remembering that he could not do anything. Pushing that thought to the side, he glanced up and around him, looking at the trees before he formed a plan in his mind.

"The trees to our left-"

"But Loki-"

"You will trigger an avalanche-"

"I am not leaving you to be attacked by these creatures-"

Loki had enough as he spun and glared at the icy-blue eyed young man who was staring back at him with a defiant expression his face. "You will do as I say and as I ordered, Jormungandr. You will obey my commands."

He saw the defiance wilt away as Jormungandr nodded, lips compressed together. In the blink of an eye, Loki saw the icy-blue eyes turn reptilian as he reverted back to being a snake. Jormungandr only gave him a long look before slithering away, his smaller form tunneling through the snowbanks as the glowing red-eyed creatures finished unearthing the rubble around themselves. Most of their uniforms were tattered remains, but the exposed skin they showed had veins that glowed and seemingly sent pulsating waves of red-hot heat towards other parts of their bodies. Some had limbs that were slowly regenerating while others had cuts that were healing.

There were certainly a lot less than before, but as Loki slowly straightened, pushing away the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him, he knew that they would still be more than a match for him, especially in his weakened state. His collapsing of the base itself at least did more damage than what he could have done wasting his spells. He dared not pull at any spells as he gripped his glaive defensively, taking one step back, his senses alert for an incoming attack.

He only got a whisper of a warning as he suddenly ducked and rolled forward, the air above his head filled with the blurred sight of a familiar red-white-blue shield as it slammed into the first soldier that had leap at him. He swept the blade upward, catching another as it sliced the person from navel to throat, spraying blood into the air. At the same time, he heard the rattle of many bullets being fired as well as the familiar whine of the man of iron's repulsor blasts. The air filled with a humming noise and gusts of wind blew the snow this way and that as the Avengers joined in the fray. Loki spun and saw the flash of silvery metal followed by several sprays of blood into the air as the metal-armed man cut his way through several of the soldiers, moving with lethal and brutal efficiency that Loki had thought only belonged to Agent Romanov. There was also the speed of his movement, something he thought only belonged to Captain Rogers as the red-white-blue clad man grabbed his shield as it rebounded and threw it again, running to punch and break the neck of another soldier.

A quick look above showed the matte-black quinjet, almost blending in with the night sky, hovering above them, the bobble of red hair telling him that Romanov was in the gunner's seat while the familiar grim face of Agent Barton was the pilot. He half expected to see the red-gold armor of Stark's flying about like an annoying gnat, but instead, the sudden swooping of another creature nearly made him fire off a spell except for the fact that the sudden spray of bullets downed one of the creatures that had been running towards him.

"Whoa, hey, friendly here!" the winged-man said before he flew off, strafing two of the glowing red-creatures. They were forced to duck and paid for their inattention as they suddenly became two bloodied stumps on the ground, the very familiar green-form of the Hulk unceremoniously smashing them into the snowy dirt and concrete remnants of the base. Loki took an involuntary step back as the ground shook from the force of the green monster's blows. He had not been this close to the Hulk since...well, since that time at Stark's tower.

"Loki, behind you!" Rogers' shout carried across the battlefield and he turned in time to ram the blade of his glaive into the gut of a soldier, before he twisted and climbed the leg and chest of the other soldier, back-flipping as he used his momentum to fling the soldier that he had gutted high into the air where it was blasted to pieces by two of Stark's repulsors. He turned in time to see the soldier he had used as a climbing apparatus fall to the ground, knife embedded in the man's jugular. Beyond him, the metal-armed man only spared him a quick look before glancing beyond his shoulder. Loki turned as he heard the distant rumble growing louder and was pleased to see that Jormungandr had started the avalanche as asked, a wall of white coming towards them.

"Holy shit! Avalanche!" the man with improbable wings shouted above him and Loki saw that he was about to dive down. He realized that the man with the wings was going to try to pick either Rogers or the metal-armed man up and waved a hand at him, sending a gust of conjured wind and making him fly higher before he conjured shields around the others on the ground just as the wall of white slammed into them.

Loki dug the end of his glaive into the ground as the snow roared over them. He choked as he felt like something snap in the back of his mind, the dizziness nearly making him lose his grip on the glaive itself before he ruthlessly pushed it aside and focused on the shields and keeping himself steady against the flow of the avalanche. After a few minutes, he could feel the flow stop, the pressure on his shields lessening, but he did not release the others from their shielding as he lowered his own. The blast of cool colder air hit his face, as silence reigned around him, the snow banks nearly his full height.

He heard the distant muffled roar of the Hulk and something in his mind rattled against the green monster smashing against the shielding that held him in place, but Loki ignored it as he brandished his glaive and extended his arm out. The curved point of the blade nearly touched the edges of the snow bank that had built up against what had been his shield. He could feel the incredible power of a thousand ancient blizzards at the crown of the glaive, just waiting to be unleashed. The glaive was like an extension of his arm, as he felt it melding with him, waiting for him to use it. However artificial, it was something he could not draw from, but rather channel, but the relationship was seemingly symbiotic. He hated ice magick, abhorred it. Hated what the glaive represented, what all of the snow and ice represented, but did not deny its usefulness. It waited...

And he waited...

And as the precious seconds ticked off, he watched the snow that surrounded him, waiting. A heartbeat later, he felt the corners of his lips curl up in an anticipatory smile. He could see the first glow of red a few feet away as the glowing-red creatures burned their way through the snow. It would be a fatal flaw of theirs as he gently touched the edges of the embedded stone to the snow and felt the slightest sliver of power from the Casket of Ancient Winters' glaive travel hungrily through the snow, seeking the target he guided it towards. He could tell the moment the melting of snow refroze into an immovable icicle, the subversive power of the dark blue gem crawling into the veins, hardening them, freezing the blood-

And just like that, Loki allowed the power of the glaive to suck in all of the snow that had poured upon them in an avalanche, the howl of power swirling around the point- Just as suddenly, all that was left was the hardy pine trees, shielded Avengers who were on the ground, and the frozen forms of the remaining soldiers that had attacked him. They looked like indelicate ice sculptures, their forms twisted by the blood he had frozen. It was how he had been able to freeze their blood, using the snow-melt that lingered on their bodies and wounds, generated from their melting, to kill them.

He released the shielding on the others, all of them staring at the carnage about them. He could feel the bone-deep exhaustion clinging to him like a second skin and leaned a little on his glaive. He just needed a chance to catch his breath before facing the Avengers- Just to close his eyes for only a moment as he heard Jormungandr's form slither from the tree line across the snow behind him- Just needed to-

His last brief thought before the black oblivion of exhaustion was that Thor would probably berate him for his idiocy at over extending himself with his magick. Maybe Thor had a good point...

There was something admirably disturbing with how Loki had killed the last of the Extremis and Centipede soldiers that had apparently been waiting in ambush in the remnants of Karpov's base. Natasha pursed her lips a little as she studied the twisted...sculptures...for the lack of a better word, the quinjet dipping a little as Clint landed it, the skirmish apparently over. A sinewy movement to her right made her glance beyond Loki to see something slithering towards him and she opened her mouth to warn the others when just as suddenly the Asgardian collapsed to the ground.

"What the-" Natasha tapped her radio off from whatever Stark was about to say as she hurried out of the cockpit and down the ramp, mindful of the pull of still healing muscles and wounds. She skidded to a stop in time to see that a very large cobra-like snake, of all things had curled around Loki, its head the size of at least Steve's shield.

"Nat, stay where you are-"

Natasha felt the slight thrill of fear as the snake whipped its head around to look at her, its hood flaring with anger, the rattle of his tail a clear sign to not come any closer as Steve and James stood a few feet away from it. James looked tense, and Natasha knew that he was trying to find some sort of weakness in a snake that large while Steve looked rather concerned.

"Hulk, stay," Steve suddenly turned as the Hulk lumbered up, a growl issuing from his lips as he shook the ground. The large snake whipped its head back around and hissed angrily, flaring even larger at the Hulk's approach.

"Snake not smell right," Hulk growled out as Natasha heard the clomp of Stark's boots and the faint draw of Clint's bow as he primed an arrow. Above them, she could imagine Sam prepping his machine guns, ready to rain fire down on the creature.

"No, wait, Hulk, stop, don't provoke him," Steve held his hand back to the Hulk who took one lumbering step forward before huffing and standing down, obeying Steve's orders.

"Him?" Clint asked behind Natasha and she risked a quick look back to see him not quite pointing the arrow at the snake, but more towards Loki's prone form. The eerily similar sceptre-like glaive he had been holding was next to him, its dark blue stone seemingly clouded with hidden power.

"Jormungandr?" Steve took a tentative step forward as the snake hissed, fangs bared and dripping with something that smelled like a very familiar poison.

"Steve-" Natasha recognized the scent, having breathed it in first two years ago when she, Steve, and ex-Agent Grant Ward had been trying to find the leader of the rogue HYDRA cell in Washington D.C.

"Cap-" Tony started.

"Jormungandr, right?" Steve ignored all of them as he took another cautious step forward and Natasha saw James' brow wrinkle in concern as he made an abortive move to stop Steve from moving forward.

"James, don't-" Natasha realized that James did not know the situation and was reacting as if the serpent was a threat – which in this case it probably was – but also realized that the serpent, if it truly was Jormungandr, he had not made a move against Steve yet.

"Bucky, stand down. I'm all right," luckily, Steve turned his head a little and waved James down, who stopped his movement, but had a frown on his face.

"...Steve..." in the week since they had returned from this very base, James had not even addressed Steve by his name; nor did he address Steve as "the target," even though he proved he was capable of holding regular conversations.

"It's okay, Buck," for a moment Natasha thought that Steve was going to expose his back to the snake, allowing him to strike with impunity, and it seemed that James thought the same, but instead, Steve surprised them by waving James off while keeping an eye on the snake. "It's okay Jormungandr. We're not going to hurt Loki. The fight's over, we just want to make sure he's okay-"

"He is fine," Natasha could swear that she blinked once and the snake had disappeared, leaving the familiar gangly human form of Jormungandr looking not even a day older than when he had been in chains in the Allfather's throne room, receiving his punishment. His dark hair was just as unruly and his chipped icy blue eyes still defiant, his thin face and angular cheekbones morphed into a snarl as he glared at Steve. "We do not need your help! He just needs rest-"

"Jormungandr, we're just offering a place for the two of you to recuperate-"

"Wait, we are?!" Tony squawked behind Natasha and she glared at him to shut up as Steve blithly ignored Tony's protest.

"You're injured, and you need at least some treatment-"

Jormungandr wiped his light brown jacket across his face, streaking it with blood that Natasha realized was probably from a well-hidden head wound. She also noticed that parts of his clothing were ripped, blood dripping from cuts and gashes he had received. Those same cuts had not been visible when he had been a snake, but she realized that he must have somehow hidden them with his large serpentine bulk.

"If you and Loki need to find Thor, we can at least help-"

"Your resources are of no use-"

"At least the two of you can recover in a non-hostile setting," Steve took another step forward, putting him at least within arm's reach of Jormungandr. Natasha was a little worried; this close, if Jormungandr turned back into the large serpent that had been hissing at them, he could easily strike Steve and potentially poison him again. Steve had only breathed in the poison like she had – if he had been bitten... "We're also trying to find Thor. Director Coulson's offering the resources of SHIELD."

Natasha knew that Coulson was patched into their comm lines, having done so as soon as Steve had ordered Maria to prep a quinjet. He must have asked Steve to put forth the proposal, even though SHIELD was technically operating on very low manpower and resources. But she also knew that both Jormungandr and Loki did not know of the circumstances of what had happened in the past two years – Thor's conversation with her, Steve, James, and Agent May over a week ago indicating that never told anyone on Asgard what had happened to SHIELD.

"This is not a surrender," Jormungandr seemed to deflate as he took a small step back, looking smaller than Natasha thought possible. Something in his expression reminded her of a lost child, clinging onto the remnants of what was familiar.

"It never was, Jormungandr," Steve nodded once, before reaching over and picking up the glaive and handing it to the young man. She watched as he took it and clutched it close to his chest, as if he could seemingly absorb it into himself. He looked so child-like and so lost that Natasha thought she saw herself in him...and that disturbed her.

He floated high above the field of battle, now awash in a heap of snow and logs of trees that had not survived the avalanche. The familiar hum of Mjolnir kept him aloft as he watched the tiny forms of the humans called Avengers scurry about, carrying the one who wielded magick into the flying contraption he knew as the quinjet. The others took a moment to sweep the area for any further hostiles before boarding the quinjet. Moments later, the flying contraption rose into the air and sped off, back to its home base.

He knew he could easily strike them down with a bolt of lightning from Mjolnir, and part of him wanted to. It would be so easy to see the contraption fall from the sky, killing almost everyone aboard. The green monster would survive, and perhaps the snake-man. But everyone else would be dead, including the magick user. He was a powerful one, but had clearly exhausted his own power. Something in him wanted to rail against such use of power, that the magick user was an idiot for over-extending himself in such a fashion. That he should not have pushed himself so hard, to let the others finish the fight for him. The green monster could have easily mashed the Extremis soldiers into pulpy messes and used the Centipede ones for target practice. The magick user did not have to prove himself to the humans, to him...to make him see in the skies and stars above.

Then the magick user collapsed and he felt like he wanted to rush to his side, to shake his head and berate him for doing such a foolish thing. That they were once...brothers? Was it brothers? Were they brothers? That he was the stubbornest idiot in all of the Nine Realms and as much of a powerful display it was, it was also foolish for him to do such a thing. He had open portals, a feat in of itself most dangerous and took the most amount of magick. He knew that for a fact because he had walked through several...had he? It was a feat to walk through the shadows of Yggdrasil once, but the magick user had done it at least twice in succession. He had seen him in the glittering city he knew as Stuttgart, had seen him pull at something in the skeins and webs he knew the magick user always talked about while he pretended not to understand. He had seen him walk again, pulling the snake-man with him.

The trap had been simple, his master, his glorious master to whom he would serve until the ends of the Earth and beyond. His master whom was generous to give him this, to let him watch- His master wanted him to watch, had said something about suffering and doing nothing, but he did not understand his master's words, could not comprehend them because there was nothing but the master's commands. He had watched and he had been instructed not to act. He had been instructed not to act for all of the times the magick user had been hit, attacked, had his blood split. He had watched and had not understood why.

The magick user had fought back, and perhaps there had been a lesson in such an observation, that he would soon be able to fight this magick user, to see him fight even though somewhere deep within – he had fought the magick user before. Right? He had fought him countless times? That he knew when he was at his limits and perhaps when he pushed past them? But surely his master did not want him to watch such a meaningless slaughter? His master had set the trap and he thought that it was perhaps he needed to ensure that it was sprung, that the magick user would know the folly of walking into such danger – he was the stubbornest idiot in all of the Nine Realms.

He puzzled over that extraneous thought. It had been...affectionate? Brotherly?

And somehow, he wanted to rail at it. He wanted to bang his fist against an invisible barrier of glass that he knew was seemingly unbreakable. That he wanted to stop each bullet from piercing the magick user's body, to stop the hiss of burns...that it was...

Wrong.

But was it?

Come...the whisper touched his mind and he obeyed, spinning Mjolnir harder as he drew his red cloak around him, his blue-silver armor clinking as the plates adjusted themselves to his movement.

Thor flew off, summoned by his one-and-only master's commands. And somewhere very deep inside, he raged and wailed against what he had been force to see.