It was night by then, but Taylor was having a difficult time sleeping, tired as she was. It certainly wasn't the accommodations. She'd been provided with a room to rival her own in Stark Tower, it was cavernous in its spaciousness, with one wall that was practically nothing but window and a wide balcony to match. The bed was heavenly as well. She had no idea what materials the mattress and pillows were made of, but god, they were perfect.

Unfortunately, it seemed that it was her mind, as per usual, that was keeping her from rest. Images of Loki kept springing to mind. Half of them were X-rated, provided courtesy of her unconscious fantasies the night before. The other half were of him, walking away without a word or glance after their meeting with Odin. He'd stormed off to his room before she could get a word in and slammed the door for good measure behind him, like a child throwing a tantrum. Well, she wouldn't bend to his will and go calling after him. They'd speak when he was acting mature. Even so…

A sigh that evolved into a frustrated groan marked the end of her attempts to lay down, relax, unsuccessfully attempting to keep her treacherous brain from straying to him. She threw the covers back, and padded out in her pajamas, deeming them appropriate enough to accidentally be caught in if someone else was wandering about in the late hours. The exact time was hard to determine since she didn't have a clock, but she assumed most people were asleep by that point.

Padding out into the hallway, she navigated the hallways aimlessly, hoping that walking would help her mind relax. Before she knew it, she found herself in a garden, sparingly lit, but beautiful even in the darkness. She wandered along the path, eyes tracing over leafy silhouettes when a rather human one suddenly caught her attention as it stepped in her way. Minding the foliage, she lit a small ball of fire in her hands and raised an eyebrow when she saw Loki.

Extinguishing the flame, she treaded closer, half expecting him to turn and walk away again, but pleasantly surprised when he did not. Not quite within arm's reach, she stopped, able to make out most of his features. They stood staring at each other for a moment before she spoke.

"Still acting like a child?"

He snorted, folding his arms behind his back.

"I'm acting like a child?" he scoffed, "You do realize you were dancing on a bridge earlier, don't you?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, though she assumed he couldn't see it in the dark. In fact, Loki could see it. His vision at night was far keener than hers, especially with a simple spell, and he was able to distinguish her much more clearly than she could him.

"Right, but I wasn't stomping off and slamming doors in people's faces," she countered, waving a hand angrily.

Ah, he'd been hoping it would irk her and it appeared it had—enough that she was bringing it up, at least. He had his own bone to pick with her, but he planned to get some entertainment out of it in the process.

"What else were you expecting?" he questioned coolly, raising an eyebrow that she was just able to discern in the darkness, "Gratitude? Would you like me to grovel at your feet and shower praise upon you for giving me a few more blessed day's reprieve from my cursed prison?"

She took a step closer, partially to see him better, but also in response to his mocking tone. What an asshole!

"Well maybe not all that, but a 'thank you' would sure as hell be nice," she snapped.

"Oh, and I supposed I ought to be grateful you're my keeper as well," he added incredulously, rolling his eyes.

"Well, gee, Loki, I didn't realize I was so tough to be around. Too damn bad you got stuck with me and not Tony or something like that, right?"

The god took a step closer as well, closing some of the distance between them, his blood humming in his veins. Taylor had a way of making his pulse race in any situation, one way or another. At the moment, he was enjoying returning the favor. That blush hadn't been on her cheeks a moment ago.

"Please," he sneered, "as if I would want someone watching my every move. It's insulting."

She rolled her eyes.

"Gosh, I guess you shouldn't try to take over an entire planet next time, then, if you didn't want to be supervised all the time."

Loki snarled at her, the remark hitting a small nerve. He was expecting this though, of course, so it didn't irritate him that badly.

"Supervised," he scoffed, "more like dictated."

Her mouth dropped open, outrage and disbelief warring on her fair features. It was becoming a sport for him, making her mad at him.

"Are you trying to insinuate that you'd rather be in a cell?" she demanded.

He tried to make it look convincing when he replied.

"At least there I would be given some iota of privacy and self-government."

Loki felt sure for a good moment that she might actually hit him. Her palms actually glowed for a few moments before she managed to control herself and get her response out through gritted teeth.

"Then feel free to go on back. Don't let me stop you."

She turned on her heel and began away. For a moment he debated letting her go off steaming or trying to make nice. The pros and cons were hard to weigh, but considering she could make his life just as difficult as he could make hers, he decided the latter of the two options was best. He took her arm, nearly snickering when he felt the heat radiating off her. She spun of him, eyes narrowed, mouth set in a hard, angry line.

"I don't need anyone to fight my battles for me."

He didn't expect the disgusted noise she made, jerking her arm from his grasp.

"Get over yourself. I wasn't fighting your battles for you; I was trying to help you, jackass. You know, because I'm nice like that. It wasn't an attack on your honor or anything, but damn, I'm sorry it was a shot to your ego, sweetheart," she wasn't sorry at all, "Next time I'll keep my mouth shut, since you and Odin are obviously the best of pals right now. You've got him wrapped around your little finger, am I right?"

She turned with a huff and began storming away.

"I'm going to bed," she muttered, raking a hand through her midnight hair.

Loki stared after her for a moment, somewhat stunned. His remark about her fighting his battles for him had been eating at him, but it appeared that he'd misread the situation. It didn't sit well with him, but it appeared he'd been wrong and…he owed her an apology. Besides, the last thing he needed was her holding a grudge and making his life harder than it needed to be. He'd accept the hard-earned days of freedom she'd won him and swallow his pride. He started after her, and nearly laughed when he saw her hesitating at the junction of two hallways.

"Taylor," he called.

She went rigid. He assumed it was because she was still angry with him, but really it was because hearing her name come from his mouth like that made her body react in ways she would never, ever admit under the worst torture. Slowly, when she felt her expression was under control, she turned to him, only half of her previous anger still present. True to form she hadn't been paying attention to the twists and turns and she was well and truly lost, so mostly she was embarrassed by that point.

"I had not realized you meant to help me," he began, growing uncomfortable when his carefully practiced apologies suddenly disintegrated but words kept spilling from his mouth, "I am no longer accustomed to anyone trying to help me. I assume everyone means to slight me or do me harm, and it was not right to believe so of you when you've shown me nothing but kindness. I offer my sincerest apologies."

She pressed her lips together for a moment before her shoulders dropped and she turned to him with a forgiving smile.

"I understand," she offered slowly, "I mean, I get not trusting anyone to treat you well."

The discomfort in his chest lightened, but the niggling feeling in the back of his mind persisted.

"Do you?" he questioned curiously, raising his eyebrows.

Her expression softened in the firelight provided by the torches burning along the walls, her normally bright cerulean eyes appearing golden with their reflection. The corners of her mouth tipped down, her usually unwavering gaze avoiding his suddenly, as he remembered they had two nights previous, in the kitchen. There was something Taylor was hiding, something that led to the inconsistencies in her otherwise strong and confident character.

"I don't know," she murmured uncertainly suddenly, turning away, "maybe I'm just reaching. Anyway, we better go to bed—I mean, uh, we should get some sleep…separately. In our rooms."

She shook her head slightly, as if clearing it as Loki attempted to hide a grin. It was funny, watching her speak to royalty so articulately, but stumble over inflections in harmless words. Intelligent as she was, Taylor didn't always seem to be the most adept at speaking.

"I agree," he cut off her stammering smoothly, "we have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

She nodded, looking relieved that he hadn't poked fun at her—at least not this time. He started away, relieved that they'd made some sort of truce, but she grabbed his arm suddenly, biting into her bottom lip with embarrassment. His brain trailed off without his permission as he eyes locked onto her mouth, wondering what it would be like to sink his own teeth into the soft flesh…

"I um…I don't know where my room is."

Loki blinked, banishing such thoughts, and covered his moment of weakness with a chuckle. She flushed, clearing her throat.

"Give me a break, this palace is huge," she reasoned defensively, brows pulling together slightly.

"I will escort you back to your room," he agreed with a half-smile, offering her his arm.

With an amused expression, she accepted it, the warm length of her side pressed into his as they began down the corridor. They hadn't been this close to each other since the battle, and it filled each with a strange sort of electricity. Loki wasn't sure what to make of the Midgardian. Half the time she drove him crazy with her childish antics and fiery attitude. The other half, it was almost impossible to keep up with her—the kindness, the offer of friendship without asking for anything in return…

"I almost forgot to ask," she spoke up suddenly, glancing at him sideways, "why are you up so late anyway?"

He shot her a sideways look. Like Taylor, Loki's mind hadn't left him to peace. Thoughts of being in Asgard again and puzzling out whatever was able to transport the fire demons had keep a small portion of his mind awake. Mostly, however, his thoughts had looped back to the raven-haired female strolling contentedly by his side, infuriatingly enough. He'd thought a stroll in the cool night air would clear his head—just his luck that the object of his attention appeared right in front of him. Of course, he couldn't just admit that to her, so he quickly conjured an excuse.

"It's been awhile since I've been able to see the stars of my home world. I wanted to enjoy them while I could. What about you?" Partially true, he felt better about it than a full lie, oddly enough.

Her hesitation to answer was far more noticeable, and this time she didn't have a subtle evasion prepared, so she settled on a clumsy, vague truth.

"My mind wouldn't settle down," she nodded, as if internally coaching herself, "I couldn't get to sleep. I thought walking around a little would help."

The god shot her knowing sideways look, mentally debating if he should pursue questioning her further. Perhaps another time, he decided as a yawn suddenly gripped him. Taylor was his "keeper" after all. They would be spending the next day looking for answers in the library, and maybe he could find an excuse to be near her without her righteous entourage to interrupt them. He still wanted to unravel her mystery.

"Perhaps tomorrow I can take you on a tour of the palace," he suggested, "you might not have as much luck in finding me next time you go on one of your midnight escapades."

She snorted, but a grin turned the corners of her mouth up anyway. Ah, some success at last.

"Well, let's hope I don't have too many sleepless nights," she muttered.

Loki silently echoed the sentiment.


"Loki, I can't even read this," Taylor sighed, gingerly closing an ancient tome and pushing it away from her, "I'm completely useless here."

They'd been at it since the sunrise; it was close to midday and Loki had made minimal progress in solving their riddle. There were countless ancient artifacts and spells to sift through, and going back and forth between records was tedious. It also didn't help that Taylor wasn't able to read anything other than English and a surprising amount of Russian—not that anything in the library was actually written in Russian. She'd been muttering Russian expletives under her breath for a while.

"Not just here," Loki muttered moodily under his breath.

Her azure eyes shot to him and narrowed for a moment.

"I'm choosing to ignore that and attributing it to low blood sugar and frustration." She perked up suddenly, "You know what, why don't I make myself useful and grab us a bite to eat?"

"That's the most helpful suggestion you've had all day," he agreed with relief as his stomach growled.

"Choosing to ignore that as well," she said airily as she got to her feet and adjusted her Asgardian clothing.

Luckily, Sif seemed to have a steady supply of pants made for herself, so it was no trouble to give the "royal seamstress" person Natasha and Taylor's measurements so neither would be forced into heavy dresses and corsets. Well, they still had to wear corsets, unfortunately, but at least they were flexible. Taylor didn't feel as if her ribs were about to break just by sitting down—always a plus. Her wardrobe had come in varying shades of gray, black, gold, and brown. Taylor wasn't keen on brown, but it was all still very feminine and badass.

As she stood from her chair and stretched, she cast her big blues towards the god she'd spent a good chunk of the day with. He looked slightly irritated, but focused, determined. It was nice, to see his usual scowl replaced with something normal, like concentration. That little furrow between his brows was almost cute…

"Taylor? Food?"

She blinked, realized that, once again, she'd been caught, and nodded.

"Right. I'm hungrier than I thought, I guess," she lied. Wow, bad idea. Time to distract him. "What do you want to eat?"

Fortunately for her, Loki seemed more intent on research and the promise of food than picking apart her every word as per usual. She breathed a mental sigh of relief as he answered her offhandedly, flipping another page in a dusty book. His ability to multitask was really beginning to impress her. Taylor had known Loki was extremely intelligent, but he had an impressive amount of discipline to back it up.

"Whatever you're having is fine, I'm sure."

"Got it," she assured him confidently, glad to have some sort of mission at last, "be right back."

While she was sympathetic to both her and Loki's need for sustenance, Taylor was in no hurry to get back to library. She strolled through the open hallways, enjoying the sun hitting her skin between archways as she meandered towards a banquet hall. She had no idea how she'd carry two plates of food, plus drinks, but she figured she'd solve that problem when it came up. For a moment, she'd just take it easy.

"Lady Cadence."

Moment over.

"Taylor," she corrected automatically as she turned, "Taylor is fine."

Surprise, it was Sif. Actually, that was a surprise. She hadn't spoken a word to Taylor since the Asgardian had given serious thought to running the Avenger through to get to Loki.

"My apologies," a pause, "Taylor. I just wanted to speak with you."

Also a surprise.

"Without Loki."

Not a surprise.

"What is it?" Taylor questioned, trying to stick her hands in her pockets. Except she didn't have pockets. Stupid Asgardian wardrobe.

"I just wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I understand I alarmed you," Sif explained.

Taylor was getting one of those creepy doppelganger feelings. Sif had dark hair (though not so dark it was practically blue) and blue eyes (though not quite the same shade) like Taylor. They were remarkably similar in build as well, and yet…Taylor felt as if they were complete opposites all the same.

"Nah, you didn't really alarm me. Concerned me, maybe, but no harm done. It's alright," Taylor assured her, thinking the conversation would be over so she could get some lunch.

She was beginning to realize that taking her time had been a serious mistake. Socializing was not on the Taylor's-list-of-unnecessary-to-dos list. Her current plan: food, library, food, and possibly the tour Loki promised her. Hopefully along the way she'd be able to catch a conversation or two with her friends—she wasn't used to not seeing any of them all day. There was always someone in the tower that she saw before lunchtime.

"Wait," Sif said, making the Midgardian pause, "could you perhaps…do me the honor of a fight?"

Taylor blinked. The lady had just gotten through apologizing and she wanted to start crap all over again? Not that there had been crap to begin with—just a sword pointed towards Taylor's internal organs.

"A fight?" she questioned, brow furrowing.

No offense to the warrior lady, but Taylor could control energy for Pete's sake. They weren't exactly in the same weight class in that sense.

"Ah, it must sound differently to you, but in Asgard, disputes are often settled with friendly battle."

Like Taylor and Bucky, although that's not how they settled "disputes". No, settling disputes involved rock-paper-scissors, ping-pong, and a prank war that usually ended in magnets and fire-extinguishers. Friendly battle made sense though. The Avengers had friendly fights all the time—that was, like, ninety percent of training.

"Oh, uh, sure, but let's be quick. Loki and I both need to eat and since he's still working, I volunteered to play waitress."

From the expression on Sif's face, the woman had only understood about half of what Taylor had just said, but it seemed to be enough as they began in the direction Sif had hailed her from. Gosh, Taylor really hoped that the unsettled feeling in her gut was just hunger rather than something else


Taylor hadn't been gone more than fifteen minutes when Loki finally found something of importance. He bolted to his feet, all thoughts of food forgotten and went to head her off, hoping she would be with her friends so that he wouldn't have to waste time rounding them all up. As it turned out, just finding Taylor was proving to be difficult, as she wasn't in the banquet hall even she knew was just a few corners away.

He used a spell to find her recent footprints and followed them. Strange, they were leading right to the training fields. Why would she go there? Surely she couldn't have been sidetracked so far when she'd been so hungry. He picked up the pace, impatient to tell her his findings. He rounded a corner, following the magically recreated path, just in time to hear someone shriek and see a flash of dark hair before a rather feminine someone collided with him. Loki caught them automatically and stumbled back a step to keep his balance.

"Oh, thank caffeine it's you! Save me, please!" Taylor begged, fingers curling into the fabric of his clothes.

"What? What are you talking about?" he questioned confusedly, viridian eyes scanning her face, "Save you from what?"

There was a slice in her lip and a scrape on her forehead, dirt and dust covered Taylor's face and clothes. Her raven locks had come loose from its plait and fell around her in a dark, wavy tumble. She was panting, blue eyes bright and somewhat frightened. All in all, she looked much worse off than when she'd left the library—like she'd been in a fight, and possibly lost.

"Not what," she gasped, ducking behind him and placing her hands on his shoulders, "who."

His raised his arm slightly, trying to decode her strange panic attack and give her a serious look at the same time. She pressed her forehead between his shoulder blades lightly, breathing heavily, as if she'd just run a great distance. How was he supposed to help her if she kept acting ridiculous? When had helping her even been put on the table, for that matter?

"Who?"

"Sif."

Just as the name left her lips, the warrior herself appeared, a sword clutched in her hand. She looked angry—but then she always looked that way to Loki.

"Where is she?" the Asgardian demanded, brandishing her weapon at him threateningly.

He didn't react except to raise an eyebrow coolly, his mind still working to piece together exactly what had happened in fifteen minutes or so that would lead Sif to try to kill Taylor.

"You'll have to be more specific about who," he stated, smirking when the woman bared her teeth at him.

"Taylor Cadence, of Midgard."

"Friendly fight my prize-winning donkey," the superhero chimed in derisively from behind him.

"Stop hiding and face me," the Asgardian demanded, scowling through the god towards the woman seeking refuge behind him.

Taylor's head popped out to the side of his shoulder.

"No!" she refused indignantly, "You'll try to stab me again, and I've had enough of you trying to stab me, sister."

Loki put his hands in the air, silently calling for a ceasefire. He had more important things to do than be a buffer between the two women—like telling them the reason for why the fire giants were taking villages. It seemed the problem was Sif. Taylor seemed, for once, the one that wasn't goofing off, although he had a feeling she wasn't helping much either.

"What happened?" he inquired.

Sif sighed, dropping her weapon and her aggressive stance slightly.

"You two are in league together," she stated plainly.

That wasn't helpful. In fact, it made everything even more puzzling than before. Loki and Taylor could barely get along for more than few minutes. What made Sif think the two could ever be in league together? He tried appealing to the other one. Perhaps Taylor could shed some light on the situation. He looked at her over his shoulder.

"What is she talking about?"

"Well, you see, she came up to me when I was going to get lunch, to apologize for yesterday, and then she asked if we could have a 'friendly fight' so of course I said yes," Taylor began in a rush, obviously realizing that she needed to speak quickly or her human shield would abandon her.

"Of course," he agreed, rolling his eyes, "because that's logical."

She narrowed her gaze at him.

"I do not need your sass right now."

"Continue," he commanded on a sigh.

"So I agreed, and we came out here, and at first it was fine even though I've never used a sword in my life and then I mentioned you and being your keeper and she drew some weird conclusion and tried to kill me," she concluded in one breath.

He blinked for second, brain catching up with her rapid speaking.

"Did you not try to defend yourself?" he questioned incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes.

"Well, of course, but she's better with a sword than I am."

"You can control fire."

Taylor whined—clearly he just wasn't getting it.

"Well yes, but I'm not going to use it on her," she explained as though it were obvious.

Ah yes, he remembered. Taylor may have been tolerable, but she was still a friend of Thor's, and Sif was a lifelong friend of the prince as well. The young Avenger wouldn't risk injuring such a respected and beloved warrior over a misunderstanding. He really needed to have a discussion with Taylor about her self-preservation instincts—and using him as a shield. Yes, he really needed to talk to her about that as well.

"Alright, well, we don't have time for any more games or attempted murders. I found something important in the library," he informed her.

She snapped to attention immediately. The change was quite remarkable really. She went from theatrically worried to solemn and attentive almost immediately. She straightened up, released his shoulders, and fixed him with an expectant look.

"Show me."

He took her hand and led her away, back to the library, ignoring Sif's protestations along the way. Thor was leaning over a book Loki had left open, skimming the page when they entered. He glanced up, smiling at them with his usual charm.

"I was wondering where you two went," he greeted, "what happened to you, Taylor?"

"Long story," Taylor replied tersely, "Loki says he found something."

The golden prince reacted similarly to Taylor and approached them as Loki stopped at the passage he'd found. He knew Taylor couldn't read it, but Thor could to corroborate him, and there were at least pictures for her. She leaned over his shoulder when he sat at the table, her loose hair brushing his cheek slightly. Taking a (slightly shaky) breath, he began reading for her benefit.

"Centuries ago, there was a powerful Asgardian wizard named Keziah that served as advisor to Odin's father, King Bor. He was gifted from a young age, apprenticed under the most talented magicians in all the Nine Realms, but eventually, his abilities far surpassed any other's. He is the one that created the Bifrost, and also the one that contained and hid the Aether from Malakith."

Loki paused here, making sure Taylor understood the gravity of who he was speaking of.

"The Aether?" she repeated, "As in that stuff that nearly killed Jane and destroyed the universe?"

"Yes."

Her eyes widened slightly and she nodded for him to go on.

"Keziah served under King Bor for years, highly respected and celebrated as the greatest magician in all of time, and eventually apprenticed his own pupil."

"I have never heard of him before," Thor remarked, frowning, "Father never mentioned him. Surely he must have known Keziah, even as a boy."

Taylor glanced at the prince for a moment, pressing her lips together. Odin seemed to have a habit for keeping secrets. It was giving her an antsy feeling beneath the skin.

"What happened?" she asked Loki, choosing not to point out her observation.

"Forbidden magic," Loki answered, emerald eyes scanning through the passage he had already practically memorized, "he was experimenting with necromancy, mostly, and influencing his student into doing so as well."

Taylor frowned, staring at the image of the man standing over a flaming boat. In the picture, it was obviously a dead soldier, but the man standing over him wore strange robes and an amulet around his neck. The face was blurred though, like someone had tried to scratch it out.

"Necromancy," she repeated, "like raising people from the dead?"

"Yes. There is some magic that is powerful, but forbidden to be used, long before even King Bor ruled. Not even I would attempt it," Loki replied.

Taylor wasn't about to show her surprise, or skepticism. Loki, the king of poor life choices, was calling hands off on something powerful and forbidden? Must have been worse than she thought.

"Other than, obviously, raising the dead being bad, why is some magic forbidden?" she asked.

"While it is powerful," he began, "it is also dangerous, and it usually bends or even breaks the laws of nature, which sorcerers are warned to never tamper with."

She grimaced, wiping at her mouth where she felt blood still leaking. Jeez, that was irritating. This was serious and she was getting blood everywhere. How inconvenient.

"So this Keziah guy was using forbidden magic and then what happened?" she asked.

"They locked him in the tower he was using for experimenting and the same sorcerers that had trained him placed enchantments on it so that he could not leave or perform magic from within. When his apprentice tried to free him, Keziah was killed and the student was believed to have perished as well."

Thor flipped the page, but apparently it didn't have what he wanted and he turned back, glaring at the book.

"If he is dead, what good does this do us?" he demanded.

Loki, sighed heavily, dramatically.

"They never found the apprentice's body. Perhaps they survived, much like the Dark Elves, and are trying to revive Keziah"

Taylor bit her lip, thinking.

"So those villages…they're sacrifices to bring this powerful magician back?" she guessed aloud.

"That is my best guess at the moment," Loki replied with grim satisfaction, "there is no other alternative. Any artifacts that could be used are either accounted for, lost, or destroyed. There are no magicians other than myself who could pull off a spell like that."

Taylor straightened, running a hand through her hair. This was getting way more complicated than anyone had expected, she could feel it, and there was something they were missing. They were close, on the right track, but she couldn't quite grasp what it was.

"I will go inform the Avengers," Thor stated, picking up his hammer. He paused for a moment before adding, "Excellent work, Loki."

Taylor leaned against the table and crossed her arms, as Loki closed the book, conspicuously silent after Thor's departing words.

"So why aren't there any magicians other than you that could do a spell?" she inquired after a moment.

"I had not understood why until now, but I suppose the disaster with Keziah caused the discouragement of it. It is only because I am—was—a prince that I was allowed to study it. My mothe—Queen Frigga taught me everything I know."

Feeling an unusual wave of bravery from the note of sadness in his voice at the end of his explanation, she reached out and placed her hand in his. Taylor was prepared for him to pull away. Instead, his hand closed briefly around her fingers, a gentle squeeze, before relaxing again. He glanced at her, eyes flicking from the new wounds to the old.

"You should take care of those," he observed.

Having him look at her like that, her head went blank for a solid moment before she realized what he'd said.

"Oh, it's nothing," she assured him as he stood and bent towards her, turning her face this way and that.

He was leaning over her, and Taylor found herself not altogether unwelcomely trapped between Loki and the table while he examined her wounds. Her breath hitched, and suddenly her rapid heartbeat was twice as loud. They were standing much closer than they normally allowed themselves to be. Actually, she noticed they'd been coming into physical contact with each other often as of late, when they were usually so careful about maintaining space between themselves.

"Loki."

Thor's voice broke the trance and Loki stepped away from her, blinking rapidly. Taylor too, had to shake her head slightly to clear it. Whatever was going on was freaking her out. She didn't act like that with anyone—least of all Loki. What was wrong with her?

"I want you to come with me to speak to father about Keziah," the prince explained, apparently oblivious to the two.

"Very well," Loki agreed, straightening his clothes and letting out a breath.

He glanced at Taylor once last time before leaving the library with his adopted brother. The female, left to her own devices for a moment, ran a hand through her hair and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Things were getting difficult, and things were getting difficult quickly.

"Food," she muttered to herself as her heartbeat faded from her ears, "I need to eat before I pass out."

Right, low blood sugar was why she felt lightheaded, not of a certain sullen prince in need of a serious attitude adjustment. She practically ran to the banquet hall, and almost screeched to a halt when she saw everyone was already there, speaking amongst themselves. As soon as they saw her, the conspicuously got quiet, and Bucky's eyebrows quirked in way that she knew meant the others were aggravating him.

"Wow, that's not suspicious at all," Taylor remarked flatly, placing her hands on her hips.

"We want to talk to you…" Steve started.

"But first, what happened to your face?" Natasha interrupted, frowning.

"Lady Sif and I got into a small altercation. No worries. Why are you all standing around looking like a bunch of gossiping teenagers?"

"Don't get upset with us…" Bruce began with hesitation.

She raised an eyebrow. Taylor couldn't remember the last time she was really upset with any of them. Sure, they could get on her nerves just like any family. Hell that was practically an expectation of living in the tower with all those different personality types. Getting upset? They must have done something extra special stupid.

"Okay…" she replied expectantly, slowly moving towards the table to get herself a plate of food.

"I told them you could handle yourself," Bucky interrupted, and Clint chimed in with "same".

"Which, we know you can," Tony added, scowling at the two men, "there's no doubt that you can take care of yourself…"

They started talking one after the other, in pretty much the same concerned tone of voice.

"We're just worried about you." Steve.

"Things are getting crazy and we don't want you to get distracted." Natasha.

Taylor definitely agreed with the crazy part.

"Or hurt." Bruce.

Taylor was getting suspicious. They were dancing around the subject, which wasn't like them—especially Natasha.

"Guys, what is this about?" Taylor demanded.

"Just…take it easy," Tony, going into rambling mode no less, "Maybe sit down. Someone get some water, or a fire extinguisher or—"

"They're worried about you and Loki," Bucky cut them off, rolling his eyes.

Her shoulders dropped and she let out a relieved breath, chuckling.

"That's what this is about?" she laughed, sitting down and digging into her food, "I thought it was something serious."

"This is serious," Natasha insisted, sitting next to the younger woman, "Taylor, he's dangerous."

Taylor snorted, waiting until her mouth wasn't stuffed full of vegetables to speak.

"So am I," she replied cockily, "Loki's got nothing on me."

Bucky smiled to himself and plopped down on the other side of his friend, ignoring her protestations when he snitched bread from her plate.

"Told you guys," he said, "She's got everything under control."

She elbowed him lightly in the ribs, continuing her meal without even pausing when her arm brushed his metal one. It had taken him a long time to accept it as a part of him—and even longer to not be self-conscious about it. It had thrown Taylor when she first met him, but now it was just another part of her friend—and amusing one for sticking magnets to, actually.

The others relaxed and engaged in conversations and food; Taylor mentally scoffed at them. They had been worried about her with Loki. What did they think—that she was romancing him or something? Had they actually thought she'd be in love with the arrogant god when they hadn't even known each other a week? Sure, she liked Loki when she didn't want to punch him, and she was trying to befriend him, but that didn't mean the two had some sort of clandestine tristes going on.

"It's purely tactical right?" Clint asked suddenly, grinning, "You're just trying to get on his good side so he won't be a dick about helping us."

Taylor opened her mouth to tell him that he was so wrong, bananas and peanut butter seemed right, but she hesitated when she saw the other's faces. "Yes" was clearly the right answer. Anything else would be weird, and probably launch them into another lecture that would be a lot harder to talk them down from. She couldn't bring herself to lie and tell them what they wanted to hear though. Bucky, noticing her facial expression about to give her away, intervened on her behalf.

"Of course," he scoffed, "now c'mon Taylor, we should clean up that mess you call your face."

Thanking him a thousand times through eye contact alone, she got to her feet with him and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Whose face are you calling a mess, mountain man?" she joked in reference to the rather impressive stubble he was sporting.

"I'll shave tomorrow morning, give me break," he laughed in response as they left.

They strolled in silence, past the medical wing, where he grabbed some supplies to patch her up with, all the way to her room. They sat at the table in her room while he went to work cleaning the wounds Sif had given her. He waited until he'd fixed her lip before he spoke.

"So what's really going on with you and Loki?" he questioned.

"What do you mean?" she bluffed.

He stopped just long enough to give her flat, unimpressed look that very clearly stated "bitch, please". She sighed, giving in and he went back to work with satisfaction, waiting for her to speak.

"Just friends, I think," she began, "hard to tell with him."

He nodded.

"That's it?" he inquired.

"Pretty much," she confirmed, "I just think he's had enough punishment. He's been in prison for a while, he helped save the universe and nearly died doing so—and while saving Thor no less…I just think second chances should be offered."

He raised his eyebrows, straightening slightly as he finished up, mouth set in a skeptical line.

"From what Thor said, he was offered a lot of chances," he remarked fairly.

She nodded distractedly, running a hand through her hair.

"Not every time is a good time, Bucky," she pointed out quietly.

Taylor knew that more than anyone. Once, when she'd still been in high school, her stepmother had gotten angry with her over something Taylor couldn't remember six years later; she just knew it wasn't a valid reason to hit her with a wooden rolling pin a good few times. The day after that, Taylor had had gym class, and while she'd been changing in the locker room, Miss Snow had caught sight of the mottled bruising on her back and ribs. Taylor had been dragged to the counselor, where they'd asked her if she was being abused.

She'd adamantly denied it, explaining that she'd taken a tumble off her bike. What else was she supposed to say? That she was being abused? What then? They would have dragged her off to some crappy orphanage. She'd been a danger to herself and her own family as it was, putting her in a home with dozens of other kids would have been catastrophic. So she'd lied her ass off and gone home only to be yelled at because the office had called her house with "concerns". No, not every time was a good time to offer redemption.

"Hey, I get it," Bucky agreed, raising his hands in mock surrender.

He knew Taylor, and he trusted her judgement. If she wanted to befriend the grouchy god, that was her business, and he'd support her one-hundred percent. She was a tough cookie. Should she get more than she bargained for, and she got hurt, he'd stand by with tubs of ice cream and action movies with strong female leads while she kicked Loki's ass.

"We all just want you to be happy, you know," he added, tipping his head at her endearingly.

"I know," she admitted, the corners of her lips quirking in an attempt at a reassuring smile.

"Hey," he said, taking her hand since he knew her shoulder was injured, "I got your back no matter what. We all do. You're family to all of us."

She beamed at him, and it was one of those smiles that could have put the sun to shame. Abruptly, she pulled away to wipe at her watery eyes. Oh, jeez, he'd made her cry again. He accidentally did that sometimes—although to be fair, she'd gotten Bucky too, more times than he was willing to admit. He pulled her into a hug, letting her go only after she'd stopped sniffling.

"You guys are my family too," she said, smiling at him.

A knock on the door cut the moment short and they both looked curiously in the direction of the wooden stood and tugged the door opened, cerulean eyes widening when she saw Loki on the other side, looking somewhat weary.

"Hey," she said, surprising coloring her voice just a tad.

"Hell—were you crying?"

Did he have to sound so appalled? She blinked, clearing her eyes of any leftover tears. She'd barely been crying! Was it really that obvious?

"No." Crap.

His eyebrows shot up, his expression both amused that she would try to lie to him and appropriately skeptical. She was effectively caught. Behind her, Bucky recognized the voice and scooted past her, making his escape to give the two some privacy.

"I'll see you later, doll," he called over his shoulder as he went down the hall.

"See you," she replied brightly before turning back to the Asgardian ex-prince and pretended her cheeks didn't color at the look on his face. "What's up?"

"Care to tell me what you 'weren't' crying about?" he questioned.

"It was nothing," she replied vehemently, and it did not go unnoticed by either of how passionately she said it. Time to change the subject. "How did the meeting with Odin go?"

Odin. Not "your dad" because Loki didn't view he Allfather as his father. Not anymore. He'd probably get mad at her if she referenced the King of Asgard like that, and she really wanted Loki around at the moment. Around him, it was easy to ignore and even forget her past, even when it tried to ambush her. Even with his insults and their arguing, he never really reminded her of her life pre-Avengers—except for those times she drew parallels between themselves.

Would he see them too, if she told him? As she opened the door wider to allow him through, she hesitated. The sudden urge to tell him had the words at the tip of her tongue, but she stopped. Taylor hadn't spoken to anyone about her childhood, and she probably never would. It was too painful, and she didn't relish the reactions she anticipated if she came clean.

"Intense," he replied on a sigh as he entered, "Thor must make everything so dramatic."

She snorted and shut the door behind him, claiming a seat at the foot of her bed for their conversation. Loki settled himself in the chair she'd previously been occupying while Bucky had taken care of her wounds.

"We travel to Helheim tomorrow, to speak to their king," Loki informed her, rubbing at his temples like he had a headache.

She tipped her head at him, considering his appearance. He looked…haggard. His eyes had circles under them, his shoulders slanted downwards, and he just seemed tired. Or maybe it was the lighting.

"Did you ever get a chance to eat?" she wondered aloud.

"No, I—"

"Why the hell would you visit me first, then?" she demanded, getting to her feet and leading the way to the door, "C'mon, let's get a bite. You should really take better care of yourself. Honestly…"

As she good-naturedly ranted at him down the hallway, Loki silently wondered to himself how someone could sound so irritated and yet compassionate at the same time.