AN: I should probably mention that this is the Edward Elric of post-manga (or FMAB). So there are some spoilers there, so beware. You have been warned.

This chapter is mostly dialogue, since there's not much action to be had in a conversation/interrogation/debate with one of the debaters in a cell. And it's absolutely ridiculous writing for two people who are loads smarter than me. I do not advise it for it leads to health issues.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers of Fullmetal Alchemist. –sobs-

"We're even now," Edward noted, "I know your name, and you know mine. So…what else do you want to know?"

"You sound so sure that I desire to know anything at all," Loki replied silkily, the idle words placed to gauge the boy's reaction and place his temperament. From their initial greeting, he had judged the young man proud and confident in a way that rivaled Thor, but lacking the god's unique skills that almost justified said traits. Or so he had thought. Any individual, mortal or otherwise, who opened the Gate deserved at least a second glance.

"Then you wouldn't be playing at all." The young man shrugged away the question, still undeterred by the silver tongue. "So, what do you want to know?"

"About you, of course. Or rather, how you changed from a master alchemist to work at SHIELD." Loki's eyes watched sharply, "And you, no doubt, desire details on my dastardly plots for this world?" Edward shrugged again as though letting Loki's smooth, dangerous words flow off of him and away.

"Not really. I mean, they're going to stop you, no matter what," he said, "Besides, the effort to make them listen isn't really worth it. I'm interested in you, and the world you come from."

"You play a dangerous game for information you could glean from my brother."

"Eh, he didn't really seem the academic. Plus, it would be hard to keep his attention that long." Edward removed a hand from his pocket as he spoke, waving it in front of his face as though shooing away the idea.

"While I agree that that oaf has a thick skull, I doubt that is what you mean," Loki murmured, "In fact, you've alluded to it twice, that you are unable to be heard or seen. At least not without great effort on your part."

"That's about right," Edward agreed, replacing his hand in his pocket. "See, I'm sort of like you. I'm not from around here…and by that I mean, really not from around here."

"And yet, here you are."

"That's sort of my problem," the boy nodded, "I'm here, but I don't think I'm supposed to be. People don't remember me, even if I've spoken to them. They don't notice when I pass by. I'm like a shadow. Even the cameras have a hard time focusing on me. I'll bet that even now, with all of the surveillance they've got on you, nobody's noticed me or our chat."

"So you try to return home?"

"Not really. I mean, I got pulled here without trying, so I guess I'll get back the same route." The boy's nonchalance returned. His flippant, unattached attitude made it difficult to give Loki something to latch onto, to manipulate to his will. But patience remained key, and sooner or later the foolish child would slip up.

"This place you came from…tell me about it."

"Not a chance," Edward replied quickly, "I've said my part, so now it's my turn to ask a question." Loki wondered if the boy realized how naïve he sounded, bargaining with the Liesmith. Even the thought of answering questions so truthfully rubbed his pride the wrong way.

"So, you're from Asgard. A prince. Pretty impressive."

"You don't seem impressed."

"Not really, no. I've had my fair share of princes and their rivalries." His grin softened, a memory clearly playing in front of his eyes. "Anyways, you're not really a prince, are you? Or at least not by blood." Loki stiffened, the mellow voice cutting all the deeper because the question came unexpected.

"And how do you know that?"

"Your brother," Edward said, noting how Loki bristled at the mention of the tall, blond man who'd made such a spectacular entrance earlier, "Mentioned something about it earlier. You two don't seem on good terms." Especially since one was trying to save it while the other actively tried to subjugate it.

"You idle away your time on foolish questions," snapped Loki, hating instantly how much he wanted this line of questioning to stop. He'd left everything behind to burn in hatred the minute he'd released his grip and fallen into the abyss. So why did he still shrink from this line of questioning? "This world hangs in the balance, and you fritter away your precious words asking irrelevant questions. Or do you care as little as I?"

"Don't play that. You care about this realm, about everything really, quite a lot," scoffed Edward, "And so do I. But like I already told you, nobody else can really hear me. Only you, and probably because of your…magic." The way he said the word implied a clear disbelief. Loki tucked this shred of knowledge away for later.

"So, you intend to do your part by defeating me? With words only, it seems, since you carry no weapon."

"True, I don't do guns," Edward agreed, "But, I don't need to defeat you. The others already have that under control. Or will." The look that crossed the boy's face betrayed no uncertainty, only impatience, as though he could hear the 'heroes' arguing rooms away.

"You have a lot of faith in this government's broken playthings," Loki said, "And confidence in my inevitable downfall. Are you a seer in addition to an alchemist?"

The young man lapsed into contemplative silence. It did not suit him, Loki noted, since he had already displayed the same brashness as Thor. (Why did he keep comparing him to his not-brother?) But sadness played out in the golden eyes now, and Loki found himself wondering what heartache could have tempered that pride.

"You've been alive a long time, if the stories are true," Edward spoke at last, the sadness lingering in his voice, "So you've probably noticed that history moves in circles. And I've seen this story before. Right here, right now, I lived through all of it not too long ago."

"So you consider your shallow mortal years enough to gauge one you humans revered as god?" The words came in a mocking sneer that he expected to bait the boy's temper. To his surprise, the sadness in his eyes only deepened.

"No. You remind me of somebody I knew." A haunted sound filled the boy's voice. Was it fear? If so, it was unsatisfactory, since whatever he feared was clearly not Loki. And the fact that anything, especially in his time of triumph, could be feared more than he set his blood to boil. "He was…more than you."

"Knew? Then I suppose you did away with him," spat Loki, "What was he? Some villain drunk on a little power who lusts after greater things? Do not confuse my motivations with those of your pathetic mortal attempts for power. You cannot even begin to understand true power. I am a god and soon my army will come and rain fire upon this world. And you, the unheard voice, will watch them all suffer and die."

The words wound through the air, so smooth and sharp that they could tear through almost any defense. The expression the boy wore went from its mocking sadness to blank. Loki noted that he didn't step away or give any other physical indication of fear, but supposed that this victory was enough for now.

"But that's exactly the problem." His words entered the air, melting their ice and rendering Loki's harmless against the boy. Edward looked upset now. Not angry or disheartened as Loki had hoped, but annoyed. The boy had the gall to be annoyed. "You plan to subjugate humanity using force, trusting that your army will back you up. But in the end, you've only stolen something and called it power. You're a thief wearing a stolen crown, and it will always slip away."

"And this friend of yours found some alternative path to power?" asked Loki, aware that the conversation was rapidly getting out of his control. He still had little on the boy, no dark secrets to strike with an underhanded knife, while he found his own anger drawn out.

"For a while, yeah. He really was a lot like you, you know. Older than dirt and a silver tongue. A shapeshifter that could make humanity dance like puppets for his own sick pleasure. For hundreds of years he lurked in the shadows, doing the dirty work his Father commanded, spinning lies and watching the people burn." Although the words sounded almost like praise, the disgust in Edward's voice was almost tangible. "But he was more dangerous than you."

"And why, pray tell, is that?"

"You lack conviction."

Well that wasn't what he had been expecting. It sounded so preposterous that Loki wanted to deny it, vehemently. He let out a dark chuckle, inwardly unsure whether he stalled for time to regain his composure or if the claim really humored him.

"Really. What part of I have an army brings my conviction into question?" The boy searched his face for a moment.

"Your eyes."

"Ah." Things clicked into place. The boy thought he was under the influence of the tesseract like the agents that he had taken hostage. It was far more insightful than even his not-brother, who claimed to know him, but incorrect nonetheless. "If you're searching for some sign of possession, you should know that I'm acting of my own free will."

"I wondered about that," Edward admitted, "But that's not what I meant. You're angry. And hurt. You can see it in your eyes."

"And it is hatred that will fuel my war."

"And end it too," Edward snapped back, "Hatred still belongs to the heart, and that's a terrible liability."

"You don't seem one to denounce the merits of the heart," Loki said, condescending amusement creeping into the words as he tried to exploit the boy's hypocrisy.

"I'm not because I don't have to. You've chosen a different path, and your heart will destroy you just like his did him."

"Well then, let's talk about your path, shall we? You are clearly an alchemist, a prodigy no doubt." The conversation slowly began to wind back into Loki's hands as he carefully navigated them away from his own weaknesses, incorrect as the boy was. "I'd say that your heart almost destroyed you as well. You opened the Gate…committed the greatest taboo of alchemy. For whom, and for what price?"

"My mother," the boy replied, his voice dropping almost to a whisper as he offered insight into the past, "And I paid with my leg." He subconsciously shifted in a way that made his lower left leg the best bet for the transaction. "It's automail now." Loki didn't know what automail was, but assumed that it was a prosthetic of sorts.

"But you learned your lesson, it seems. You're clearly not a practicing alchemist," Loki continued. The alchemists he had met over the years all wore their trade like a cloak. "You ran off whimpering like a dog with a tail between its legs." A look of hot anger filled the boy's face, and Loki let his own grin grow wider at the sudden victory. True, this was not the anger of a coward brought to shame, as Loki had expected, but it told its own story.

"Ah, I see. You didn't run. You stayed and fought because even the loss of your leg couldn't stay your pride. Is that why you're here now? You still search for a way to bring her back?" Cruelty dripped from the words. "Or is it for the others you lost along the way? For surely this path you deem so high could not have come without a cost."

"You underestimate me again. I'm not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice." The boy's temper flared, but he kept it masterfully reigned in. "But you're right. My actions had a cost…a terrible cost that I wasn't able to pay."

"You lost someone that day?"

"My little brother." The words welled up tightly in Loki's chest, but it took him a long moment to understand why.

For all the contrasts, in that moment Loki could have sworn he saw Thor. He wore the same expression as when his brother (not-brother, he corrected) had confronted him only hours before, pleading for him to come home.

"There were two of us who passed through the Gate," Edward continued, the story running like something well worn but repeated not often enough to make him comfortable. "I lost my leg…my little brother lost everything." Unchecked guilt appeared in the crease between the boy's eyebrows. He withdrew his right arm from his pocket, looking down at the gloved hand.

"You paid your right arm?" asked Loki, as he observed the motion.

"All I could get back was his soul," Edward affirmed bleakly, "I sealed it to a suit of armor until I could find a way to get the rest of him back."

"A fate worse than death." The condemning words only threw up a smokescreen to the thoughts racing through his mind. Somewhere inside, he felt a grudging respect beginning to form. To pull off such a feat such a young age meant that boy was no doubt a master alchemist, easily rivaling any in all the realms. It was no wonder the boy had not feared to play this game with him. He had played other games in the past, more dangerous and at much higher costs. "Unable to eat, unable to sleep, uncertain even if his soul would reject such a body."

"And all my fault," concluded Edward. He sighed, then straightened, the sadness disappearing rapidly. He strode forward, up to the glass wall that separated them slightly, then took his right hand and rasped on the glass. It echoed not as a metal prosthetic should, but as flesh and blood. It took a moment before Loki caught the meaning.

"Your arm is back," he murmured, "And your little brother…?" Edward nodded, a triumphant smile on his face.

"In the end, I won. In the end, I saw the Truth." He splayed his glove hand so that it rested lightly against the glass. "You talk about true power, but you still don't have a clue. You're actually so far from true power that you're about to get your butt kicked into the next realm by a bunch of egos wearing spandex."

"So in the end, all you wished to tell me was that I was going to lose."

"No, that's just a fact. What I wanted to tell you was this." He locked eyes with Loki, both refusing the flinch away. "Our story, about the older brother who wronged the younger, the prodigy and the one they called a monster…it didn't end in tragedy. Yours doesn't have to either."

Edward straightened suddenly and turned to leave, his footsteps clicking against the metal grating floors. Now that he knew, it was very obvious that the boy's left leg landed harder than the right, now nothing more than the scar of a victorious battle.

"Our conversation has finished."

"For now." Edward turned back to look at him as he reached the door. "You're a busy guy. Somebody's probably coming down here right now, and you don't want them to catch you talking to yourself. They already think you're a nutjob as is." He was almost out the door when Loki stopped him with a last word, wondering if, despite the boy's confidence otherwise, this would be their last meeting. The archer was on his way, after all, and while he may be invisible he was obviously mortal.

"I take it you aren't going to tell me the answer, then."

He received a laugh.

"You wouldn't understand it if I told you. See you around."

With that, the boy disappeared from sight. Since nobody had noticed his appearance, nobody noticed his disappearance either. Not even the red-headed assassin, whose eyes never missed anything, noticed the boy as she passed him on the way to the cell.

AN: Thank you to those who pointed out my technical difficulties early on in the first chapter. That should teach me not to be writing/posting things at ungodly hours.

Thank you to SinoPrisca, The Sin of Justice, LightLessStar, Takai01, ToxicMoss, FiLau, and TheLazyOtakuWithNoTime for your reviews. You're all lovely.

And in case you're wondering, the characters from Fullmetal Alchemist that have been alluded to so far are The Truth, Ling, Envy, Father, and Alphonse.