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 12

He summoned Mjolnir back to his hand before pointing it and fired off a blast of electricity. He expected the magick user to easily dodge the blast from Mjolnir, but it was the serpent that was coiled near him who took the blast, an animal-like screaming hiss emerging from its fanged mouth in anger as its skin seemingly absorbed the attack. The serpent landed on the ground, fangs extended, hissing in a protective manner as it flared its hood at him, daring him to attack once more. The display struck an odd familiarity, that he somehow knew was from long before, almost...childhood if one could call it. He knew that the magick-user should not be here, nor should he himself be here. He could feel the pressure, the call that pulled at him. But he knew he had to come. Because... He paused. He did not know why he had to come, only that he knew it was imperative that he did. That was odd, was it not?

"Good to see you too, brother," the magick user sneered.

His world suddenly whited out in a brief disorienting fashion. "We are brothers, you and I. We grew up together, played together, fought together. Do not not remember any of this?!"

"I remember...living in the shade of your shadow..."

He stared, somehow unable to comprehend the words said out loud compared to the sudden echoing words in his head. He knew that they were familiar, that it had been said with no affection, but he could not help but think that there had been affection in the words, his own...words. But the affection was certainly not with this magick user, this mage, not at the moment. Sarcasm he understood, and the tone that had greeted him in such familiar terms – terms he could not quite grasp onto like liquid slipping out of his fingers – was utterly sarcastic.

He took a step back and set himself defensively as he saw a glaive appear in the magick user's hands. A second later, he deflected the icy cool blast of seemingly cold arctic air – Jotunheim? It felt like...Jotunheim? - with a blast of lightning from Mjolnir. This was laughably easy. He knew that deep down, that he was being played with- He suddenly winced at the tug of the bond with his master, the disapproval and the wash of anger that promised pain and agony- He stumbled a little, a thousand apologies pouring forth- He had not meant...he did not- He needed to leave and so spun Mjolnir as the smoke from the clash of spellwork slowly dissipated-

"Leaving so soon?" the magick user goaded and he stared at him, the sudden urgent overriding need to stay and to say pushing away the need to leave-

"You...you should not be here," it felt like someone was forcing the words out of his throat, a constriction that suddenly pressed upon him. Mjolnir felt like lead in his hands, weighing him down as he felt himself absently spinning it. He needed to return before his master- But he needed to stay- "You...should be in Asgard..."

Yes, yes, the magick user needed to be in Asgard because...Because- Terrible, terrible horrific things were happening there- He- He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, to push past the pounding agony that throbbed in his head, that he needed to warn- Had to- He must warn them! He silently shouted and raged against the bonds that seemingly held him in place. He needed to warn him to return to Asgard because- It's a trap! It is a trap, why are you so stupid for coming here?! You should not even be here! He wanted you to be here! Go back! Go back! Asgard needs you! But he somehow could not force the words past his throat anymore, swallowing painfully against a lump that had formed there, as he gritted and bared his teeth.

He knew that there was a way for him to speak, but as he suddenly felt his muscles tense, ready to leave, he fought against it, push back against the barriers that kept him trapped in his own body. He knew the magick user. Knew him. He needed to warn the magick- Needed-

Loki.

Yes. Yes! That was it. That was...Loki...his brother, his stubborn, willful, obstinate, proud, petty, selfish brother that stood before him. And for a second, he could see a flash of clarity of who he was – he was...Thor, the Crown Prince of Asgard- And just as quickly, his clarity suddenly slipped out of his grasp, like fingers dancing across droplets of water which he could not grasp. It felt like someone was shading and pressing down upon his thoughts once more- suppressing the deep instinct-

And he reached out and clung desperately onto the fact that the magick user – Nornbless him sometimes for his stubbornness for not even attacking when he clearly had an advantage – was Loki. Was his brother. He thought he heard the howl and bark of something snapping painfully across the bond he had with his master, the pain blooming across his mind as he tried to suppress it-

"Well, I'm here," the magick- No. Loki. Loki said as he held his glaive loosely in his hands.

He – Who am I? - could see that Loki – Loki, Loki, Loki, brother, brother, brother – was flicking looks towards the insignificant humans that had surrounded them. They were dressed in blue and he had a faint whiff of recognition that he knew these were innocents, that these were friendlies, that he should not hurt them- He knew that they were afraid to come towards them, but all of them were pointing their guns at them. Their frightened and confused expression told them that they wanted to fire their ballistic weaponry, but the fact that they were hesitating told him that they at least recognize the danger and somehow, it made him relieved.

The sudden thump of boots behind him made him turn to see the metal man – again, who he somehow knew that he should have known – landing, his glowing hands pointed at him. Behind and above him was the whirling hum of the flying contraption that he knew he could easily down with one bolt of lightning from Mjolnir. The crowd that surrounded them gave a ragged cheer and all of the relief he had felt turned to concern. Innocents and civilians had no place in such a battle and as he spun Mjolnir harder, fighting the heavy command to leave and be done with it. He knew that he could not dally any longer. He delivered his warning and amiss the growing pressure against his head that made his vision blur a little, he had to leave before anymore innocents could be involved.

And suddenly felt the bloom of vicious pleasure that knifed through him. His master was...pleased? Something had happened, something far away that he knew deep down he was too late to prevent. That something had made his master pleased. He knew he should have been horrified that somehow, something like this would have once made him frown – when had it? - and retaliate, but-

"Thor, stand down," the authoritative voice behind him made him turn a little to see the spangled soldier with the shield he knew to be almost indestructible, standing near the armored man. Beyond him, he could see the uniformed guards – you should know them as police officers – start to swarm, driving the crowd back, falling back as they shouted orders. He had no doubt that someone had told them of the foolishness of civilians and innocents on the battlefield. He would not linger-

An suddenly found himself raising Mjolnir, firing off a bolt of lighting that was intercepted by the metal-armed man who leapt at him in a sudden attack. The hammer felt heavy in his hands as he twisted and turned, block strikes and sudden blows to his head by the one who wielded authority and shield as well as the serpent who struck at him, the metal suited man, and others who fired at him. He blocked an attack by the magick- no, by Loki, and swung at him with Mjolnir, gritting his teeth against its increasingly heavy weight.

He would not linger, would not-

His mind suddenly fled from all thought, the heavy oppressive weight of his master guiding him and he heaved a sigh of relief. However, he did not know why it was accompanied by the sudden feel of dread and regret as he held Mjolnir aloft, the hammer suddenly lighter than it ever was. His master was here, right here, right now, standing before him. His master would guide him. These...creatures in front of him, so dressed like costumed animals and nothing less than the vermin they were...these...creatures were not worthy. He would wait for his glorious master's command to smite them and strike them down where they stood. He would be his weapon and nothing would stop him. There was nothing but the glory of battle, the war that he so wanted to court and dance with. Death and destruction were his forte and he would relive the days of his youth.

"In my youth, I courted war..."

He blinked and for a moment, Mjolnir felt so heavy in his hand as he stared at it.

"Loki, turn off the Tesseract-"

"You're too late! You're too late," the madness was reflected in his eyes as tears fell down his face. "There is nothing but, the war."

And just like that, Mjolnir felt light again, that he need not worry about any war than the one his great and glorious master wanted him to fight. But now...now was not the time... The soothing balm of reassurance washed over him, and as much as he wanted to curl in comfort underneath it, something revolted against it, wanted him to push it away-

"You all are too late, it has already begun," his master intoned and he wanted to nod and agree, but held himself still.

His master did not like him to be so sycophantic, and so he obeyed his commands. But he agreed. His master's will was his own and he would do his bidding. It was too late...that there was no hope now, that there would only be war, death, destruction and his master would allow him to be at the head of it. The pieces were in place and the master along with the one his master kept on his leash like the pet red-headed mage, would open the doors to him. That all would be well. And somehow, a very small part of him, the part that was nearly crushed by the indomitable will of Baldr wielding the Chitauri sceptre, wailed in anguish at his failure.

Asgard was going to fall. And he had let it fall.

"You all are too late, it has already begun," the weathered old man intoned.

So this was Baldr. The supposed long-dead younger brother of Crown Prince Loki Borson and Odin Allfather. And truth be told, Loki did see the family resemblance in the wrinkled countenance of the other man. He had the same strong jawed face that dominated the whole of Odin's line, Thor included, but his other features were far more...delicate and regal than the heavy-set warrior facade of Odin and, again, of Thor. It certainly explained why he was considered adopted into the House of Bor as the third Prince, more than likely a bastard son fathered by Bor Allfather somewhere in his reign.

But Loki could also see why Baldr had easily hid from Heimdall's gaze for so long. There was something unassuming about his countenance, as if he could easily blend in with the mortals of Midgard. The softness and delicate parts of his features could almost pass for a gentle, kind grandfatherly look, and that in of itself made him immediately go on guard – if his sudden appearance out of thin air was no indication.

Loki quickly spelled the air, but felt no trace of portal magick or anything that would indicate how Baldr had arrived so suddenly. Instead, he suspected Baldr had something to do with the Chitauri sceptre he held in his hand; perhaps seemingly bewitching them so that they could not see him until he wanted to be seen – but even he could not sense the trace magick in the area. The place was too saturated by Mjolnir's ozone and his own retaliatory spells for him to discern without a concentrated effort.

And Loki had no intention of letting down his guard to actively scan the area with the sceptre nearby.

"Yeah, well, we're here to finish it," the man of iron said with his arms raised, repulsors whining as they powered up. "Wanna let our friend go? Clearly you're just hiding behind his cloak and all."

Baldr chuckled softly as he flexed his grip on the sceptre. "You, Tony Stark, should heed more warning from your companion here," he gestured with a nod towards Loki, "he understands the danger far more than you and your feeble technology will ever comprehend." He extended a hand out to his side and to Loki's surprise, suddenly drew a very familiar thin blue line into the air.

The sudden stream of wriggling of wrong danced as Loki felt the weave of portal magick. It caught him off guard and was so quick that he had not even had time to react as Baldr walked through it, Thor following. Just as suddenly, the portal sealed up from wherever Baldr had went, leaving the area in near silence. It was only then that Loki belatedly realize how he had woefully underestimated Baldr and what was happening. Baldr had the ability to weave through the shadows of Yggdrasil. The fact that Baldr walked the shadows of Yggdrasil, used portal magick that Sleipnir of all people had claimed that he could not... Loki knew he had to tread carefully, that he had to know everything before confronting Baldr or even Thor once more.

"Shit, he did it again," he heard the man of iron grumble as he lowered his arms, the whine of his repulsors dying. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jormungandr shrink, his large serpentine form turning smaller as the threat of Baldr and Thor were over. But it was Stark's words that drew his attention.

"Baldr has done this before," he stated, staring at the man of iron who stared back at him, his armor's mask expressionless and flat. Loki had the distinct feeling that Stark was glaring at him inside his suit.

"Yeah," Stark replied, "wanna tell us about how knows that? Maybe like how you told Thanos-"

"Tony, that's enough," before Loki could bristle at what Stark was saying, Captain Rogers stepped in between them, shield on his arm, and looked at the two of them with an even gaze.

Behind him, Loki saw the metal-armed man shadowing the Captain with a half-step forward of his own, almost oddly protectively. He tilted his head a little in acknowledgment of the man's prowess and fearless fight against Thor. He had certainly not expected the same man who had perceived him as a threat when he had first arrived, to outright attack Thor and even deflect Mjolnir's lightning with his arm. But he could at least acknowledge that of all of the paltry Avengers who had come to 'save' Thor with their pitiful attempts, the metal-armed man was the only one who truly had attacked without any thought of trying not to injure Thor. And that, to Loki, was the only way to knock some sense into his brother and get him away from the sceptre's influence.

It was clear the moment that Thor had attacked him that the sceptre and the Mind Gem atop its crown was controlling him. But he had also seen Thor fighting through it. Loki did not know what had made him hesitate in outright attacking his brother; all that was needed was a heavy blow to the head – which Thor always needed in his opinion – but something had screamed a cautious warning. He had not known what it was, until Baldr had shown up with the sceptre in hand. It had been different when Fenrir had wielded the sceptre in the bowls of the Helicarrier two years ago. He had not been as worried as he was with Baldr wielding it. He knew Fenrir, knew what he was capable of and maybe might have known back then, that Fenrir did not know what he wielded.

Now, with Baldr's arrival with the sceptre, he knew that Baldr knew what was embedded in the crown of the Chitauri sceptre – the Mind Gem. And Baldr knew what he wielded as he had almost effortlessly held Thor in his thrall. Perhaps there might have been a time when Loki would have been concerned for Thor, but he was far more concerned with the fact that he needed the sceptre out of Baldr's hands – if only to stop Sleipnir from using it through the power of the geas he had with Baldr to influence the whole of Asgard.

And now Baldr was gone once more – and far more disturbing was that he had left by opening the shadows of Yggdrasil. Which meant that Sleipnir had lied. Baldr did not need Sleipnir to walk them through the shadows of Yggdrail to Asgard. He could have gone to Asgard any time with Thor in tow.

So the question became – what was Baldr still doing on Midgard?

And as much as it annoyed him to no end, Loki realized he needed the Avengers and their resources. He did not believe that Baldr would have gone elsewhere, not at the moment, and that he was still on Midgard. But as much as it had amused him to see the mortals scurrying about with their phones and cameras pointed at him, with their panic and fear of his presence – he was also aware that events in Stuttgart had only been a kindness. He snorted silently; Agent Romanov was right with her words – guns were pointed at him each time he arrived and it was a distraction he could not afford. He needed to find Baldr, now more than ever.

"Tell Director Coulson I am willing to negotiate," he turned to the Captain who stared at him for a long moment before nodding and tapping his ear. Loki glanced around at the others who had cautiously approached. Beyond them, the crowds and policemen slowly started to gather once more after being scattered earlier by the Avengers' commands to evacuate. Appeasing them was an annoyance, but he also knew that not doing it would potentially delay the resources he needed from the Avengers. He dispelled his armor for a more casual version of his tunics and clothing and extended his hand out towards the ground. Jormungandr sprang up from the ground, slithering up to his shoulder where he curled around to watch everything.

As much as he loathed to admit it, he needed the Avengers and their resources; if only for them to distract Thor while he went after Baldr. Get the sceptre away from Baldr and his idiot brother would return to his usual, boisterous, annoyingly mule-headed self. Get the sceptre away from Baldr and Asgard would be able to come to their senses and repel the incoming invasion from the Dark Elves. Get the sceptre away from Baldr and he, Loki, would be able to- Loki briefly smiled inwardly. Well, he would be able to finish it once and for all.

The common area of the Avengers Tower had turned into an impromptu war room, with Maria, Stark, and Steve huddled in one corner doing media damage control as well as fielding calls from various government entities in the aftermath of what had happened in Union Square. Clint was on the opposite side of the room, staring at Jormungandr with an evaluating, but unreadable gaze. Near him was Sam who had a neutral expression on his face as he too stared at the young man that could instantly change from serpent to man. Surprisingly, James was sitting outside on the patio, but Natasha could tell that he was watching everyone and everything that happened in the common area with sharp eyes.

The only person that was not with them was Bruce and it was on his insistence that he be left alone with Loki. The two had headed straight to his lab in the aftermath of what had happened in Union Square. Coulson had gone down to Bruce's lab only a few minutes ago, no doubt to ferret out Loki's true intentions and while Natasha would have liked to have gone with him, she was far more curious about Jormungandr who had apparently not followed Loki down to the labs.

She had initially thought that Jormungandr would shadow the Asgardian everywhere, reminiscent of how he had hovered and protected Loki during the last few days since his arrival. Instead he was sitting on one of the couches in the common area, hands hovering over several healing stones. She had no doubt that he was casting a spell of sorts, but for the moment, it seemed that his focus was the healing stones instead of slinging spells anywhere. She did not know if Jormungandr was capable of even casting offensive spells like Loki, her knowledge of Asgardian magic and the like limited to what she only knew and read in reports.

She had seen Loki hand over a small bag of what was now revealed to be the healing stones, and one of his semi-transparent modulars with something glowing inside to Jormungandr as they had made their way back to the Tower. The younger man seemed utterly shocked, more so by the modular he had been handed than the bag of healing stones. He had stared at whatever was inside with something akin to longing and adulation, speechless, before holding it close to himself. Any other person would have thought that it would have been a weapon of sorts, but somehow that did not seem to case to Natasha as she sat down on the couch across the coffee table strewn with healing stones and Jormungandr hunched over the small pile.

She had never really met Jormungandr before, her previous encounters with him were from a distance. Thor had never explained what it meant for someone to have their core flayed, but she had gotten the general gist that it was more meant as punishment for those who used and abused magic in the Realms than for the apparent warriors like Thor. She still did not understand how magic equated to advance technology and Thor never deigned to explain, but she had come to understand that flaying someone of their magic and core was probably similar to how she had her memories wiped occasionally in the Red Room. Most recently, she supposed it was similar to James Barnes' predicament of losing his memories and seared with a mental brand of executing missions that he constantly fought against. She herself had such a mental brand of sorts, her original mission to kill Colonel Nicholas J. Fury keeping her sharply honed and focused on not doing just that.

It stood to reason that perhaps since it was speculated that advance technology like the Chitauri sceptre or Tesseract was involved in the Red Room mind wiping process, maybe Jormungandr having his magic core removed was similar. Nonetheless, she was rather curious as to how Jormungandr – for not having any magic so to speak – was able to do what he was currently doing; unless he was using the healing stones in some way or form?

"When we face Baldr again, you will need these for protection," Jormungandr suddenly spoke, glancing up through his eyelashes at her. She paused and stared back at him a little more than impressed that he had caught her out in her initial attempt to ask him what he was doing.

"You forget, Agent Romanov, of my brother's profession both in and out of our coterie with Loki," Jormungandr's icy blue eyes held the barest hint of mischief, one that Natasha was less inclined to trust, but nonetheless decided to acknowledge with the tilt of her head. This close, Jormungandr looked terribly young, younger than her, almost like a lanky teenager. However, looks were deceptive and she suspected that the young man had probably a few hundred years on her.

"Fenrir was an assassin," she remembered hearing Loki's conversation with Thor when he had first wakened after being savaged by Fenrir's wolf form. "Are you?"

"In the aspects of poison and the like," he shrugged, "my brother was far better at the craft than I was. Still, it was a way to make a living and you do pick up on certain techniques."

It was only then that Natasha realized that Jormungandr and by extension, Fenrir, were what Asgardian society considered peasantry. Not only was his words indicative of such a lifestyle, but a quick glance at what he wore confirmed it. He was dressed almost in the same style of clothing he had worn during his sentencing, but there were some differences. His brown leather jacket was well-worn, but had impeccable stitching that held it together, indicating that it had been professionally made and was high-quality. However, his shirt underneath, while looking like one of the servants and pages outfits of the Asgardian Court based on her memory, showed signs of a jagged stitch, of small tears and repairs that clearly indicated someone who had bought it a long time ago and cared for it because there was little to no money. There was also the sense that Jormungandr, while he wore his leather jacket, was still somewhat uncomfortable in it – as if he wore it just because it had been given to him by someone – treasured like clothes he wore underneath it.

And considering the pseudo-medieval customs of Asgard, he suspected that Fenrir and Jormungandr's professions were heavily frowned down upon, besides being peasantry to boot. She would know as assassinations were still frowned upon in this day and age. "You worked in pairs," she stated and saw him start a little, surprised by her deduction before he nodded a little.

"I was usually the spotter," he said, "much easier to pinpoint a target when he or she is weakened by poisons."

"Or heal someone in order to extract information out of them," she pointed out and saw the corner of his lips twitch in a faint sardonic smile. It was a little eerily like Fenrir's smile now that she saw him up close. Though there was definitely a difference between the two, she could still see the similarities that made the two brothers. "Fenrir looked after you."

"Aye, he did," Jormungandr reached over and moved one of the stones to a different pile before placing another one underneath his hand and silently twitched his fingers over it. Natasha watched for a moment, curiously wondering why she could not see any overt spell casting like Loki's.

"Healing magick is not as flashy as say, destructive ones," Jormungandr answered her unspoken question, "subtle, silent-"

"Perfect tools for an assassin," she met his gaze with one of her own. She was well aware of the shift that had taken place in the room when Jormungandr had spoken up earlier. Everyone was still seemingly doing their own thing, but all were aware of the conversation happening.

"Yes," he nodded once, "quick strikes like a viper, or perhaps a spider." He gave her a steady look, "I apologize, for my actions towards you two years previous. My brother's vengeance drove his madness and I followed out of duty."

"Duty?"

"Fenrir was the more quick tempered of the two of us," Jormungandr had a small fond smile on his lips, "and his perceived slights that Loki had inflicted on him cut him deeply. He always thought that the clemency Loki had requested of the Allfather was nothing more than a farce, that he would have long had died first before given the chance to live in such an imprisonment."

"You didn't feel the same?" Natasha raised an eyebrow, doubting the younger man's words.

"As much as I loved my brother, I am just grateful that I was able to survive," Jormungandr replied, "even amongst the mages of our kind, we were considered abominations. I happen to like living far better than spending my days in Hel's realm. She would be good company, but with the other souls of the damned?" He shook his head, "Valhalla would never be opened to my brother and I because of our nature and because of our actions."

"Or its a chance for you to bide your time," she pointed out and he shrugged.

"I was given a second chance," he stared at her knowingly before flicking a look towards Clint, "perhaps not so dissimilar to your case, Agent Romanov?"

Natasha tilted her head in acknowledgment of his words – he would not stab Loki in the back or make any overt moves against them for the moment. Then again, she wondered if Loki kept Jormungandr close like the old adage, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. Whatever it was, she would accept Jormungandr's words for now. "A second chance does not necessarily mean you could still cast magic," she pointed out with a finger towards what he was doing.

"Loki gave me some of his magic," Jormungandr said and looked to say more when out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Steve step away from Hill and Stark.

"Strucker said something similar, right before he blew up the room he had been put in for questioning," Steve frowned, "He said that his master was Vasily Karpov, or rather, the guy who called himself Baldr. You and Loki know of him?"

"This confirms the connection Sleipnir has with Baldr," Jormungandr stopped what he was doing, his face pensive as he rubbed his jaw. A second later he extended his hand out to his side and Natasha blinked, sitting back a little in surprise at the sudden appearance of an almost translucent looking wolf cub. The wolf cub seemingly sniffed at the bag of healing stones before hopping off of the coffee table and loped towards the direction of the elevators.

"No need to shoot me Agent Barton," Jormungandr gave a side ways look towards Clint who had drawn his bow and was pointing an arrow at Jormungandr, "it was only a familiar spell. One used to communicate with other mages if they are not within the vicinity."

Natasha saw Steve hold up a hand and Clint shrug before lowering his bow, but still kept the arrow primed. "So you know of him, this...Sleipnir."

"In so much as what he has chosen to reveal to us, yes," Jormungandr stared at him with a simple gaze before turning to look at all of them, "I know what you are trying to do, what you want to know. Why Loki said he was after Thor when it's apparent that he's after Baldr?" There was something in his gaze that hinted at a bit of disdain and exasperation at their roundabout attempt at questioning him.

"You want to tell us, or you're going to stay silent like you've pretty much have been since you and Reindeer Games arrived?" Stark spoke up from where he was, leveling Jormungandr with a look.

"Thor is your concern because you are his coterie, are you not?" Jormungandr asked, "you would come to his aid no matter the circumstance or problem and would gladly do anything to rescue him from any perils he might have unknowingly walked into." The young man gave them a mirthless smile, eerily like the ones Loki always sported, "Asgard is under a spell driven by Sleipnir and his geas connection to Baldr. As much as I would love to see the Allfather's head on a spike, my own feelings regarding what has happened to Asgard is irrelevant."

Natasha could hear the unspoken conviction that Jormungandr was absolutely loyal to Loki and that his own feelings on the matter had been pushed to the side in order to do Loki's will. She was a little more than surprised by it given what she had seen Loki do to Jormungandr on the Helicarrier, or even the fact that Loki had killed his brother Fenrir without a second thought. It certainly contradicted what she would have thought Jormungandr would feel in relation to Loki.

He reached out and pushed forward one of the healing stones that had been spelled towards Natasha and looked at her, "You will need these when we face Baldr. Not because of the sceptre's Mind Gem – that is mine and Loki's concern, but because he is a magister."

"And that's relevant because...?" Sam spoke up from his corner, crossing his arms across his chest.

"If the texts we had researched are correct, Baldr is the third son of Bor Allfather, Odin's predecessor," Jormungandr's expression turned serious. "Asgardians rarely live past five thousand years give or take a few hundred. Warriors would enter their prime years and fade, but mages." he gave a quick humorless smile, "mages age like the mead of yore. There are those who spend their whole lives studying the arts, becoming advisers, growing stronger, attaining titles and ranks while their bodies become withered, old, decrepit."

"And I take it magister is probably the highest rank?" Steve jumped in and Jormungandr flashed him the same humorless smile in confirmation.

"So what? Doesn't mean-"

"If Sleipnir's words are true, then you do not want to face Baldr unprotected," he gestured to the healing stones he was working on, "they will not protect you in the long run, but they will give you a chance."

"To do what?" Stark challenged, "we're not running away and we're certainly going to get Thor back."

"I think you're lying," Clint suddenly spoke up, stepping forward from where he was. His bow was still holding the arrow in it, but Natasha noticed that he was plucking at the string in an absent manner, a sign that he was not going to shoot the arrow, yet. "Thor was fighting it. Fighting Baldr's commands or whatever when we fought him. I could see it. Why the hell would he let us hit him so much and get close enough for us to try to hit him in the head? Baldr's doesn't look like this God-Almighty-level magister you're going on about. He certainly has the sceptre, but he didn't do much since he got it two years ago. He definitely didn't do much when I was there and basically relied on the sceptre the whole damn time."

"And what do you think he will do to this coterie of yours after you have your precious Crown Prince back in your ranks?" Jormungandr countered, glaring at Clint, "the fact that he was able to walk the shadows of Yggdrasil-"

"Something not many are able to do?" Natasha had been curious about Loki's ability to appear and disappear without a trace, completely bypassing the need for the Bifrost to transport himself anywhere. She did not know if Jormungandr could do it, considering he had been by Loki's side since he had arrived on Earth.

"It was long considered that Hel, because she was one of the daughters of Death, was the only one able to walk the shadows of Yggdrasil, to find the shadowy paths where no one could see," he replied, "it is a feat that puts considerable strain on one's core. Even I know little of the weave and magicks with it."

Tony snorted loudly in disbelief and Natasha could see that he wanted to dismiss Jormungandr's words. At the same time she also saw Steve evaluating it and considering it, his lips compressed. Natasha wondered if he was thinking of his own brief experience under Baldr's influence when he was forced to fight them as a distraction while Baldr went after Thor.

Clint's expression betrayed nothing, but Natasha knew that he too was considering Jormungandr's words, even though she knew that he hated anything and everything to do with Loki, magic or no magic. But she also knew him well enough that he was thinking of his time undercover in Karpov's HYDRA base and what had happened there.

She had only read the after-action reports of when Hel had attacked Trafalgar Square in London two years ago, to draw the Avengers there before giving Bruce the vial of Jormungandr's poison to make the anti-venom; but it seemed that Hel had seemingly stopped even Bruce from changing into the Hulk, quieting him to the point where Bruce had said that he had felt the Hulk sleeping of all things.

When Thanos had used the portals to unleash the remains of his Chitauri army on Green Bank, Montreal, Tønsberg, and then on Asgard three years previous; it had been a sight to behold, but she had no context in relation to what it meant to do such a thing. But now, it certainly made sense in all of the times when Loki had open his portals to get from place to place. It certainly explained his actions in the remnants of Karpov's base, fighting to the point of exhaustion and even then some more. It also certainly explained how Loki was able to sense and contain Thanos' portals three years ago – because he knew the spellwork or whatever magic was involved in it.

So to put it into context with Baldr's disappearance from the base when the Avengers had stormed it to rescue Tony, Sam, Agent Triplett and May, it at least gave her an inkling of how big of a threat Baldr was. He was already a threat just by virtue of having the sceptre and converting Thor, but Natasha could see where Jormungandr was going by telling them of what to expect after they got Thor back and what he was doing with the healing stones. Jormungandr did have a point – even if they got Thor back, there was still the sceptre to wrest away from Baldr's grip. If he was this...magister...according to Jormungandr, then they would have their work cut out for them.

"Could this explain why Baldr hasn't just gone to Asgard? I mean, we don't know much about traveling through the branches of Yggdrasil or whatever it's called, but it seems like you're able to cross realms, right?" Steve spoke up crossing his arms as he stared at Jormungandr.

"Yes," Jormungandr nodded slowly, "it would certainly explain it. The effort expended in keeping Thor's mind suppressed combined with pulling him through the aberrations of the branches..."

"Thor was fighting it," Clint reiterated stubbornly.

"And that is the only thing that stubborn idiot is good for," Loki voice was followed by his sudden appearance in the common area as he stalked in from the direction of the elevators. Coulson was following behind him as was Bruce, both whom had grimaces on their faces.

"Loki I don't think-" Bruce started, but was cut off by Loki as he headed straight towards Steve.

"What did you glean from Baldr's mind, Captain," he demanded as Steve involuntarily drew himself up, surprise flitting across his face before it hardened into a stubborn line. Natasha shook her head a little as she half-rose out of her seat, holding a hand up to stop James from doing anything rash at Loki's charge.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Steve's brows were knitted as he frowned and Natasha saw Loki pause, staring at him for a long moment before shaking his head.

"Loki-"

"Dr. Banner and Agent Coulson here made mention of Baldr controlling you briefly with the sceptre-"

"Hey, you can't just barge in here and ask something like that-"

"-And every person that has been under the sceptre's control can see bits and pieces of plans, faces, memories even of the one that has controlled them," Loki cut off Tony's protest as he took another step towards Steve. There was a sardonic smile on the Trickster's face as he jerked a thumb back, "Ask Agent Barton-"

"That's fucking it-"

"No, wait Clint-"

Natasha scrambled from her seat, automatically drawing out one of her guns and activating her Widow's Bite, as the room nearly erupted into chaos. Coulson was barely holding Clint's bow down, the arrow drawn and pulled back to the point of release. Sam had leap at Clint, and pulled at his shoulder to calm him down. James had stood up from where he was outside, eyes narrowed, assessing who was the greatest threat in the room and even Maria had dropped her tablet and pulled out her handgun, pointing it directly at Loki. Tony had an emergency repulsor glowing in his hand, also pointed at Loki. It was only the sudden burst of heat near her that Natasha glanced over to see Jormungandr with literal balls of flame in his hands, ready to attack whomever had threatened Loki as everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at the young man.

"Just a Healer...huh," Bruce commented quietly as out of the corner of her eye, Natasha saw that Loki was glaring at Jormungandr.

"Jor," the Asgardian sounded angry and to her surprise she saw the balls of flame disappear before Jormungandr sat back down on the couch and meekly resumed what he had been doing with the healing stones without a single word. That was interesting...

"It was Thanos," Steve said into the silence, bringing her gaze back to him and she blinked, surprised by his admission. They all knew that Steve had been notoriously tight-lipped about what had happened in the base. They all had given him the space he clearly needed, dancing around the subject when they had spent the last week discussing Kaprov, Baldr, and running searches for any sign of Thor. Steve's lips were compressed into a thin line as his nostrils flared in frustration. "I thought I saw Thanos." Natasha could see the clear signs of guilt that ate away at Steve, at what he was forced to do – to fight them – when he could not even break from Baldr's influence and the sceptre's power.

She saw Loki stare at Steve for what seemed to be a long moment and wondered if he was going to press the issue. That moment was broken as Loki shook his head a little, seemingly lost in thought.

"How does Thanos relate to Baldr?" Bruce asked, gingerly stepping into the room as the others relaxed and holstered their weapons, the moment over. "I thought he was, uh, kind of stuck in the Tesseract?"

Natasha had to hide her smile at Jormungandr's start of surprise, having not realized that they had not put their radios away and heard his whole conversation while Bruce and Coulson had been working with Loki downstairs. However, the hidden smile disappeared as she looked closer at Loki who uncharacteristically still seemed utterly lost in thought. In fact, he looked more disturbed than anything else, seemingly not even paying attention to Bruce's question.

"Loki?" it seemed Bruce picked up on it too, wrinkling his nose a little. Natasha wondered what the Hulk smelled off of Loki – was it fear? A troubling sense of something that they needed to be worried about? Natasha knew that the others did not exactly know that the Hulk had enhanced Bruce's senses outside of being the Hulk, but she had learned quickly since the Hulk had rampaged across the Helicarrier. The Hulk reacted to the smell of fear a lot more dangerously than anything else.

"...The Allfather said we were not to leave Asgard..." Jormungandr spoke up quietly, and Natasha saw the same disturbing expression on his face, "Loki...if...the possibility that the Crown Prince himself was saying for us to be in Asgard...he was fighting it...you know best what the sceptre does, and was warning- The Dark Elves with the Aether and army- Sleipnir said-"

The sudden visible ripple of something seemingly shattering away from Loki as he flung a hand out, made Natasha flinch and grab the butt of her handgun again. But she did not draw it out as Loki suddenly brushed past Steve and Tony, headed straight towards the doors that led out to the landing pad for the Iron Man armor. However, he only managed to take a few steps forward when the sudden screaming wash of starlight that heralded the Bifrost's activation slammed down on the platform itself.

Natasha squinted against the brightness of the Bifrost before it disappeared, leaving behind four figures, all whom looked like they had been through a horrific battle. She recognized Lady Sif, standing at the forefront, her hair matted with dripping blood, whatever was left of her armor stained with red and black dripping liquid, most likely blood, along with what looked like burnt scorch marks. She was bleeding from numerous cuts and what looked like a very severe gash down the length of one of her legs. Natasha did not recognize any of the three behind her, all of them also looking worst for wear with cuts, bruises, and blood dripping down their sides and faces. Sif stepped forward, walking through the doors that had originally opened for Loki.

"...Sif..." even Loki sounded shocked, almost stuttering her name and that was when Natasha saw that Sif was holding a very familiar looking golden spear, the same spear she had seen Odin hold so many times: Gungnir.

She held the spear out to Loki, "Asgard has fallen, my King."

Author's Notes:

So. Um. Yeah, many apologies for the month-long delay. This chapter would not cooperate due to certain characters refusing to interact with others unless they were significantly pin-cushioned to the wall (Hawkeye, I'm looking at you), so I had to work around it. Also, Daredevil kind of distracted me for a while there, but luckily I had Avengers: Age of Ultron to put me back on track. Hooray!