FOURTEEN

Both of us knowing love is a battlefield

.

Angela stood by the window, watching the far away stars hover in place. She realised her eyes had glazed over, that she was no longer looking through, but at her reflection.

She noticed something next to her in the window and turned.

Loki was standing in the doorway behind her, looking at his feet.

"What?" she asked quietly.

His eyes came up and landed on her. "These ships are huge, aren't they?"

"Built, I think, for dwarves," she said, a slight smile on her face.

"Yes. I suppose they are." She watched him but he simply looked back at her. "You can come in, Laufeyjarson. This room isn't mine anyway."

He took a step in but then paused. His eyes darted from left to right, as if counting doors and sizing up windows.

"Get in here properly." She folded her arms. "What have you done now?"

He frowned. "Why do you assume I've done something wrong?"

"Haven't you?"

"I believe it was just yesterday that we all worked together to bring down a Titan, and then I killed him," he said, his voice like ice. "Since then I don't believe I've done anything wrong, and this whole accusation thing is getting really quite tiresome."

She nodded slowly. "Then I'm sure I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you're not."

"What do you want?" she asked.

He took a few more steps into the room, taking in the giant bed and furnishings in one corner, the chair on his left whose seat was higher than his head. "I promised. I'm delivering."

"What?"

He came closer, stopping just a few feet away from her. "Just hear me out and don't jump to conclusions," he said.

She frowned. "That sounds ominous. —What have you don—"

He raised his chin, his face describing exactly how much patience he had left.

She bit her lip. "Then… I will hear you out, and not jump to conclusions."

He sniffed casually, then his hands swept around in a circle between them. A large black cloth, at least two feet long and a foot high, appeared in his hold. He held it out to her.

She put her hands to it, finding it unexpectedly heavy. She let it go to sit back in his hands, surprised now how he simply held it up as if weighed nothing. Pulling back the black cloth, she caught the glint of something golden inside. It made her pause but only for a moment. Then she yanked all the cloth back in a hurry, making Loki smile, to find a large gauntlet now bereft of stones.

"Loki…" She felt all of her breath leave her, the sight of such an important prize making her stare. She managed to pull herself together. "You did not promise me this."

"I think I did."

"Not to me." She looked at him.

He shrugged as if he cared neither way. "It would go to waste if it were left in Tivan's collection, and I'm trying a new thing - delivering the spirit of the promise rather than the catch to it." He paused, realising she was still staring at him. "What?"

She took it from him, lifting it and admiring it. "Why should I want such a trophy of battle?"

"You can have it melted down and made it into anything. I was thinking armour."

She carried it carefully to the window, setting it on the ledge where it met the floor. "I did not take you at your word. I apologise."

"What?"

She turned to see his surprised face. It made her smile. "When you offered me this, when we were on the refugee ship, saying everyone else would get stones - I did not believe you actually intended to make it happen. I apologise." She came back over, her eyes on the metal grating between them. "I spoke with your brother. I may have given him the impression that you are not what you appear."

"That news is about… nine hundred years too late."

She smiled. "Why armour?"

"Pardon?"

"Why armour? I could have it made into anything - why armour?"

"Well forgive me for saying, but you do seem to make it your business to get into a fair amount of battles. Armour would be useful." He paused, eyeing her with uncertainty. "And… it would protect you. If you found yourself on a battlefield by yourself, I mean."

"You mean without anyone by my side?"

"Yes."

"Because you have experience in this area."

"Some, yes."

"And what do you think of when you are alone in battle, Laufeyjarson?" she asked quietly, taking a step closer. "Armour? A bigger weapon?"

"If I'm honest, a safe exit."

She grinned. "Ah but surely you need armour or a bigger weapon to make a safe exit."

"Or before the battle even begins, you lay foundations for a way out at every opportunity."

"You never cease to amaze me."

"Thank you," he blinked, puzzled. "I think."

"The gauntlet is stunning and invaluable. I may keep it as it is - as a trophy."

"It's yours to do with as you will, Angela."

"Then… why?" she asked quietly.

"Why what?"

"Truly, why did you give it to me? Why not leave it with the Collector, or sell it to your friend Rocket?"

"My acquaintance Rocket would have no use for it, and the Collector had nothing of value to give me in exchange."

Her hand came up to his face. He just watched her warily. "You know what I'm asking you, Loki."

"Apparently I don't."

She stared. Hard. He simply lifted his eyebrows at her in polite disinterest. She huffed slightly though her nose. "Did you deliberately give me a gift? That I would enjoy?"

"It looks that way."

"Why?"

He 'oh'ed with a great deal of theatrical realisation. "You think that I'm giving you a gift of affection, or out of some kind of feeling for you."

"Aren't you?"

"You mean looting a battleground and giving the spoils to a warrior who can make use of them is a sign of affection? You and my brother are much too like - everything is emotional attachment and sentiment with you."

"You're saying there's no affection there at all?"

"None at all, I can assure you," he said smoothly, his face a defiant smile.

Her hand slipped from him. "I believe you," she said, somewhat sadly. "What are your plans? What are you up to now?"

He attempted to look down his nose at her, but she was so close to his own height he failed admirably. He settled for reverting to a wary expression. "The final part of everything we planned on that refugee ship."

"Why? What's in this for you?"

"Freedom."

She watched his eyes. "Is that all?"

"Well… yes." He paused. "Although there's the added bonus of you getting your armour through Nidavellir being restored."

She put both hands to his face and pulled him closer. She kissed him, all of her appreciation of his nature, her relief in his honesty, her amusement at his subterfuge, condensed into a simple physical act that appeared to catch him off-guard.

Eventually she eased him away.

He appeared surprised - worried. And then he kissed her back.

He put a hand to her shoulder and pushed her back abruptly. "What is this weakness?" he whispered.

She smiled. "How is it weakness, when it will bring back a planet - and all the people?"

"This is - this is not what will bring back a planet," he scoffed, taking a step back.

"Why are you really restoring Nidavellir?" she challenged, her face angry. "For fame? For glory? For the adoration of all who hear that it was you who did it? Or just so I can have armour for when you're not around?"

"I don't have to justify myself to you," he snapped.

"No, but you want to. Why?"

His mouth opened but faltered.

She smiled and grabbed the collar of his leathers over his chest. "You are adorable when you are lost for words, God of Mischief."

"How very dare you," he accused.

She grinned at him - and gave a deliberate shove.

He staggered back a step. Then frowned and shoved roughly at her shoulders in indignation.

Her hand came up to swipe for his face; he snatched at her wrist and held it fast. Her other ripped a sai from its place on her thigh and flipped round to sit back against her forearm. She swung it round.

His free hand raised and a dagger in it blocked her swing. She pressed with the blade. He grunted something and heaved back. They both leapt back, watching the other warily.

"Now, Angela," he warned, the dagger up in one hand, the other out as if it helped track her movements. "We both know how this is going to end."

She feinted to his left. He swooped back then lunged forward, narrowly missing her shoulder with the tip of his blade.

"And how is that?" she asked, watching him turn in place to keep her dead centre.

"Something of mine ending up in you. We do have other things to do today."

She grinned. "There's that silver tongue."

"That's not the thing I meant—"

She swiped at him. He took a nimble step back, then pressed forward. Something sliced at her cheek. She laughed, a low, wicked sound of enjoyment.

He cleared his throat. "Stop doing that voice. It's not fair."

"What, this?" she asked, then laughed again.

"You're making things very hard," he said, his face one of anger.

She drew her other sai, arming her left hand. "Oh I hope so," she breathed.

"Look, this is pointless," he said casually. "You know I always win."

She gasped in surprise. "When have you ever?"

"Every time!"

"I was there. I wouldn't call them wins," she teased.

He lunged forward. The arc of his dagger barely missed her eye before it sunk into her left forearm. She dropped the sai but her right hand came up. His left elbow went into her face.

She dropped to one knee. He towered over her, knocking her other sai from her right hand. He grabbed her jaw and tipped her face back to look him in the eye. "You see?" he oozed. "I always win."

Her left hand gripped his ankle. He frowned at the feel. She grinned and yanked with strength he had clearly forgotten she possessed. He went over backwards, his head smacking into the floor.

She ripped the dagger from her arm and slammed it down toward his collarbone.

His hands shot up. They grabbed her wrist. "Now - Angela—" he grunted in effort.

"Stop doing that voice," she growled. "It's not fair."

He grinned suddenly; a grunt of effort was seamlessly converted into a shameless eh-he-he chuckle directed completely at her.

She fumed and pressed harder. "You will not win this one, Laufeyjarson."

Still grinning, he brought up a knee and swept her sideways. The sai clattered to the floor. Her hand grasped his hair at the back of his head and yanked with all her strength. She brought her own knee and elbow out and shoved, rolling them over.

He was propelled to one side. Before he knew it she was under him. A scrape of metal and he felt a steel tip under his jaw. He hissed in air and froze. "I'll still win," he managed.

"You can take this win. I'll still take the victory," she grinned.

His face dropped in outrage. His hand flicked at the length of the blade. It was turned up out of harm's way as he grabbed her wrist and slammed it to the floor over her head. She raised her other but he gripped that one too, keeping it out by her side. He brought his face down to pause a mere inch from hers. "Are you so sure?" he rumbled.

She swallowed. And then her legs rose. They clamped round his middle and twisted. He was thrown over to his back; she sat over him. He gripped the chainmail at her sides for leverage. Her elbows hammered down and painfully removed them. She snatched at his wrists and they were trapped to the floor either side of his shoulders. She let go with one suddenly and then her sai was back. His free hand went up and tangled in her hair. She brought the longest tip of the sai to his cheek. His hand paused but did not let go.

"Hmm," she breathed in appreciation.

He watched her until a sly grin covered his face in a way that made her heart leap.

She traced the tip of the sai down his cheek slowly, then under his jaw. "Such a perfect face," she whispered. Her eyes flicked up to his, as the blade went back up, this time detouring to the skin behind his ear. She drew it down the side of his neck, watching it press in enough to make the skin give, but not enough to cut.

"I'll never surrender," he warned, his voice incredibly low, smooth.

She grinned, meeting his eyes, and he was struck by the sudden light to them. "I would never want you to."

He pulled on her hair. She leant on the blade.

And then it was a race to see who could get whose clothes off first.

.

.

Thor swung the chair, looking around the cockpit, playing with some kind of shot metal bar in his hands. "Weird."

"What is?" Valkyrie asked, sounding very sleepy in the pilot's chair.

"This whole vessel has giant-sized everything," he commented. "And yet this cockpit was made for tiny people like us."

"Maybe dwarves aren't pilots."

"That's racist."

"That's what I get from the cockpit not fitting dwarves into it."

He pointed the bar at her with his left hand. "Good point." A beeping sound made him sit up slowly. "What's that?"

Valkyrie took her feet off the console and sat up, sniffing to herself and wheeling her chair closer to the controls. "We'll be at the co-ordinates in a few minutes."

"Good! This is taking ages."

"Patience, King," she teased.

"I just want a good meal and some decent mead," he groused.

"You mean even you need to eat sometimes?" she smiled. "I'll tell the masses: 'Thor not actually a god - he needs his food or he gets arsey'."

"I could make you a leader," he offered.

"Of your armies? No thanks."

"No, of the serving people in the great hall I'll build wherever we found a new Asgard."

"Arsehole."

"That's King Arsehole to you," he said with a grin.

She shook her head, then looked out of the window. "Well whatever is at these co-ordinates it's either really small or invisible." She pressed buttons and the vessel gave a low groaning sound. "I'll take us in carefully - who knows what's waiting for us."

"Loki does." He got up and dropped the apparently useless bar to to the console. He went for the cockpit door. It slid open and he bounced back a step. "Ah, there you are."

Loki was standing right in front of him, his hand raised as if about to open the door. "Uh - yes," he managed in surprise. "Are we there yet?"

Thor stood to one side and watched him walk in, and then up to the passenger chair. He sat himself down and began reading everything his eyes could find.

"Where have you been?" Thor asked lightly.

Loki did not look round. "Waiting impatiently for these co-ordinates."

Valkyrie looked up at Thor, as he wandered around and came to lean on the headrest at the back of Loki's chair. "And… doing what?" he asked.

"Waiting, as I said," Loki said shortly.

"I see," Thor allowed. "It's been hours."

"As I know all too well from watching the chronometer."

"Is that all?"

Loki turned the chair around, dislodging his brother's lean. "It's almost as if you don't trust me. What havoc could I possibly wreak on a ship with nothing but power to the engines and life support, in the middle of nowhere?"

"No, I was just concerned for your safety," Thor said with a wide, shit-eating grin.

Loki's eyes narrowed. "Well that would be a first."

"I mean, whatever you were doing has caused a huge scratch down the side of your neck, there," he said, waving a finger in the vague direction. "Looks nasty. Doesn't it sting? It looks like it goes… all the way under your leather. How strange, given that I thought you wore that to help deflect damage."

Loki put a hand up to touch his neck, but when he brought his fingers away there was no injury. "You're mistaken."

"Nope, I know what I saw," Thor said conversationally. "I think it's great. It's about time."

"Shut it," Loki snapped.

"Of course, brother," he said with a wide grin. He landed a heavy hand on his shoulder, shaking slightly. "I'm happy for you, that's all."

"Why? What's he done now?" Valkyrie asked suspiciously.

Loki raised an accusing finger at Thor. "If you speak this whole plan is off," he seethed.

Thor raised his hands in surrender and pursed his lips, nodding with his most serious face.

Loki swished the chair round in barely-restrained anger. Valkyrie looked from him to Thor. He simply looked back at her and winked.

She rolled her eyes. "Ok - whatever is happening here, I don't care. What's at these co-ordinates Loki, and why?"

"Nothing," he said. "Absolutely nothing. It's equidistant from anything and anyone. It's perfect."

"For what?" Thor and Valkyrie said together.

Loki got up from the chair and turned to Thor. "The best part of the plan."

.

.

Thor walked into the cargo hold of the ship, looking up and just staring at the cavernous area, empty, echoing, huge. "They really do make these for dwarves, don't they?"

Loki walked to his left, apparently unfazed by their surroundings. "They love to travel but can't pilot ships; what did you expect them to build?"

"You mean they don't pilot ships at all?"

"No, I mean they can't pilot ships. Haven't you ever wondered how they'd accomplish that when they live in such a high number of dimensions, and space only needs four?"

"What?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Anyway, this is the room we need."

"For what?"

Loki looked around, making sure all the exits were shut and the few packing crates that were in the hold were strapped down. "You and I," he said, lifting a hand to produce the two Infinity Stones not encased in a protective ball, "are going to bring back first Nidavellir, and then Xandar."

"We are?"

"We are. However, much as it pains me to say this, I need your strength to help me. This is one thing I cannot do on my own."

"Well well well," Thor said, putting his hands on his hips, "the new Loki."

"Ok, enough."

"No, I mean it - doing this in secret, so no-one knows it was you. I'm impressed, Loki."

"Don't push it."

"Does Angela know how altruistic you are these days?"

"Does your mouth ever stop flapping?" Loki snapped. "You know, this would still work if I stabbed you and just took the power I needed."

"I was just teasing," he said with a grin. "I promise I will not talk about her any more."

"Good."

"Because obviously there's something going on there and it would not help to talk about it."

"There's nothing 'going on'."

"Even though it's a good thing and I think you two are perfect for each other."

"Just stop."

"Because, you know, she doesn't just blindly follow what people think and you - well, you've spent your life knowing what people think and using it against them—"

"I have a knife."

Thor chuckled. "Ok, I'm sorry. I hit a nerve, I can see that now. But you know brother, you really shouldn't think of it as wea—" He gasped in air as pain registered in his left side. He looked down and found a small shiny dagger sticking out of it. "Loki!"

"You were warned so many times, Thor - what did you expect?"

Thor yanked the blade free, inspecting it for a second. Then he grinned and lifted it for Loki to see. "Hey - is this Angela's? Is she lending you her most personal stuff now?"

Loki growled something and threw himself at his brother. They went down in a heap and fists and feet flew unchecked.

.

.

The music rang through all the streets, the people danced, sang and enjoyed themselves. As the last rays of the sun disappeared below the horizon and the lanterns started to stand out in the gloom, the partying raged on.

Korg found himself in the former Grand Master's palace looking out over the streets. He smiled to himself, then turned and left.

He walked and walked, finding it a long trek from the top room to the dungeons, but eventually he was walking along the corridor. He approached the last lot of metal bars and looked in.

The former Grand Master himself was sitting on his prison bunk, turned side-on to the bars so he could angle his head up to the air vent in the ceiling. The sounds of music and happiness were filtering down the chimney-like vent and it seemed as though he were soaking them up.

"Hey man," Korg ventured.

He turned and looked at him. "Oh hi. Come to gloat some more?"

"Nah, man. Just here to tell you that everything's going ok. I know you were probably worried about your people and that, seeing as you were in here and no-one was in charge. But I'm in charge now, and I think it's going ok. We've even got enough paper for pamphlets, if we need them."

He waved a hand at him. "These people are nothing without me. They'll be calling for my release before long."

"Sorry man - no-one's mentioned you."

His face dropped. "Not even one person?"

"Well I did, when I got here and asked where you were. Oh - and a lady who said everyone was hanging out at your place and using it for parties and it was thanks to you being down here." He paused. "But other than that…? Mmm… no-one, I think."

He sagged on the bed. "I just don't see why I'm not the centre of attention any more," he moaned. "I gave them everything they wanted."

"Maybe that's the trouble, man," Korg shrugged. "Maybe give them what they need, not what they want."

"Insightful," he said thoughtfully. "Who told you that?"

"Loki."

His face darkened. "That ingrate. I made him someone here, you know, and this is how I'm rewarded."

"Well to be fair, you did kind of terrorise everyone here to the point of mutiny," Korg said. "So there's that."

The former Grand Master folded his arms and pouted. "Whatever."

"Ok then, good talk. Are you getting food ok?"

"If you can call it food."

"I can. See you round, former slave-owner." He waved a hand and walked off.

The former Grand Master huffed. "You wait till my brother hears about this! He could pay for my release you know! He's rich! He has the biggest collection of stuff in the universe!" He paused. "I'll pay you to get a message to him on Knowhere!"

Silence.

He sighed. Then he turned, put his hands on the bed, and again tuned into the music floating down the vent above his head. He smiled, then began to bob his head from side to side at the happy tunes.

.

.

Valkyrie and Angela wandered down to the cargo hold, Valkyrie checking the ship read-outs from a tablet in her hand. She stopped and pressed the button to the doors, opening just the one for them to look through.

"What in Hel has happened here?" she gasped.

Thor and Loki were sitting against one wall, covered in cuts and bruises. Loki's hair looked like it had been through several hedges backwards, and Thor's looked like it had wilted in either sympathy or sweat.

"Oh, hey," Thor offered, waving a hand. "We were just talking."

"Right," Valkyrie said. "Well while you were 'talking', we were waiting. Is anything ever going to happen here?"

Loki dragged a boot up toward him, giving him a knee to rest his elbow on. "Presently."

Thor nodded waved her away. "Leave us to it."

"Are you sure?" Angela asked. "We have already 'left you to it' and we find you like this."

"Yeah - you look like you've gone ten rounds with your Hulk friend," Valkyrie said.

"Although the fact that you had any energy left to start a fight with is impressive, Loki," Angela offered.

There was a silence.

Thor cleared his throat. "We'll get on with it - in a minute."

"Ok, but I'm warning you - we have no food on this ship." Valkyrie looked at Angela, who reached over and closed the doors.

Thor watched them shut then let his head tilt. "I still don't understand why you're so touchy. Angela's nice - strong, respected - a reliable warrior, and certainly a worthy adversary for your wit. I mean she's nothing like that soldier that you took a fancy to. What was his name?"

"Please stop talking," Loki sighed wearily.

"No, hear me out - the soldier that was in charge of some detachment or other. Tall chap, not a lot of muscle to him but I guess he was quite smart in a way."

"He was very smart - unfortunately not enough to realise that being a solder would get him killed." He paused. "Which it did. Can we talk about something else now?"

"Horses."

"No - absolutely not. I am so incredibly done with your new-found lust for life, Thor," he snapped. He pushed himself to his feet and then ran his hands through his hair to smooth it out. "Now let's get on and do this." He put a hand out and Thor grasped his wrist, and together they hauled him to his feet.

"So what do we do here?" he asked, clapping his hands together and rubbing them.

"I need to tell the stone what to do. You need to fuel it," Loki said.

"Right. Yes. Got it." He paused. "How do I do that?"

"Just… do what I tell you," Loki said.

"Ok. Let's go."

.