When they finally got back to the penthouse, after many odd looks cast from passerby and quite a few lowly murmured curse words, Tony sat with Pepper on the couch while Natasha sat cross-legged atop the recliner, with Jane balancing precariously on the arm in a feeble attempt to have a friendly conversation with the spy.
Thor remained tense and alert, just as Steve seemed beside him, both leaning their backs against the bar as Sif talked quietly with Fandral in a spare bedroom downstairs. Loki, reclining with his legs spread out before him like some lax alley cat, rested atop one of the bar stools, his gaze meant only for the woman sitting in the middle of the room, the roughened skin of her knees pressed to the carpet and her hands bound in front of her by the magicked chain.
She glared at Loki, though a fearful glint resided within her oceanic irises, and he returned the icy expression with equal ferocity, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Jane, glancing to him after another failed attempt at banter with Natasha, narrowed her dark eyes and frowned, wondering why they were all acting so strange. The blonde lifted her head, and in that moment she looked more regal than ever, the silver embroidery on her ruined dress glittering beneath the overhead lights, her pale skin like marble beneath their glow.
"Are you scared yet?" she asked Loki in a smooth, light voice with a lilting accent, an anxious smirk curling at the corners of her mouth. Loki blinked at her and shook his head, and such a cruel, awful smile twisted his features that Thor grimaced.
"I'm not the one who should be afraid," he threatened coolly, and she visibly shivered beneath his penetrating stare, swallowing thickly as her grin fell. Sif's weighted footfalls sounded just behind Loki as she passed through the kitchen and into the living room, a line of dried blood running down the side of her face as she looked to Natasha and nodded. The spy stood with uncanny grace and Loki traced her movements as she made her way past Sif, and Steve looked on, concerned, his blue eyes bright and filled with worry.
"Where…?" he tried to ask, but she was already through the other door and gone from sight, and Sif walked over to warily take her place on the seat near Jane, looking uncomfortable next to the mortal woman she'd not long ago met in Asgard. Jane shifted away a few centimeters, and Loki had to take a deep breath to stifle the snort of amusement he would have otherwise displayed.
"She told me on the way here that she had some experience in aiding the wounded. I gladly accepted her assistance," she explained quickly, looking to her nails, which were coated with dried mud. Loki spotted Steve still looking longingly at the doorway Natasha had gone through, and suppressed his knowing smirk just as Sif looked up to glare at him. An awkward silence fell heavy in the air, and Thor looked to Loki just as Tony looked to Pepper, while Jane looked to her feet to keep herself from staring at the cuts on Sif's face.
Steve began to glare at Loki, for his attempt at hiding his smirk was quickly failing, and he pretended to cough to cover his mouth, hoping that he wouldn't begin laughing, too. The woman sat in the middle of the room, glancing around at all of them like they were the most insane group of people she'd ever seen, an equal mixture of fear, intrigue, and revulsion darkening her pale features.
"You're all downright odd, perfect for each other," she groaned in frustration, rolling her eyes just as she rolled her shoulders to loosen them. Steve straightened, surprised at the sudden animation of the previously still and quiet woman, and cleared his throat.
"So, who are you, why are you-"
"I would not speak to her directly. She has a certain way with men," Sif interrupted hastily, turning her attention to Loki as he began to snicker. Her glare, though distant, was icy, and instantly everyone got the feeling that Sif didn't like Loki at all. Ignoring the amused trickster, Tony shifted in his seat on the couch and shook his head.
"All women have a way with me," he deadpanned, and Sif looked to him, her expression one of mild and sudden curiosity, as if noticing Tony's presence for the first time.
"While that may be true," she explained with a crooked smile that reminded them all of Loki, "Amora is a sorceress, and she uses her gifts to control the wills of men. Speaking to her, however bound she may be, is unwise." Loki nodded in silent agreement, and somehow, in some way, Sif noticed, even while she was looking to Tony and Steve, and whipped her head around to glare at Loki with wide, glittering eyes, and he stilled beneath the hard gaze of the maiden before him.
Sif stood gingerly, lifting her chin proudly in the air as she crossed the room.
"I'm going to speak with Fandral, and I'll be back to explain everything once I'm certain he's alright." She padded softly over the carpet and brushed shoulders with Loki on her way by, her jaw muscle pronounced beneath her skin as she ground her teeth together.
"And do something with your hair, Loki; it looks horrendous."
To say that Tony laughed would have been an understatement.
...
"Since Odin disappeared, Asgard has been left amidst chaos, and the realms have only barely restrained each other from going ballistic like last time. There are so many thieves and wayward warriors, Thor, that are lusting for blood-always seeking a chance," Sif explained sadly, a certain glint of anger in her eyes as she absently glanced to her long-time companion, his blue eyes sympathetically attentive and bright as he sat close to her, while Jane, with her hand in his as they both sat upon the sofa, shifted uncomfortably, much to Loki's notice, "Amora was causing trouble, so we all went after her, except for Hogun, who's still helping to repair Vanaheim. She struck down so many of our soldiers, but I obtained the upper hand and took her back to Asgard, where she escaped and began to wreak havoc upon the city, with the help of her so-called "comrades". I captured her, eventually, but not before Fandral was injured, and we both took her here, in the hopes that you could deal with her."
She only had eyes for Thor, and it was clear that Tony's immense entertainment at the fact went obvious, while Pepper remained stoic at his side and rapt with attention, swatting his arm whenever he began to shiver with laughter. Steve and Natasha, precariously close to one another as they attempted to fit atop the single cushion of the large recliner, took great pains not to look at one another, and Loki realized that he had too much to observe. There was Jane, internally fuming at Sif's odd fixation with Thor, always mysteriously uneasy in the presence of her boyfriend, as of late, and Loki thought that perhaps he was beginning to figure out why.
Her offer came to the forefront of his memory, and he had to reprimand himself for being so amused at her predicament. She could, possibly, be a friend, but only if he helped her get past her issues. He would have to deal with that later, he thought distantly as Sif continued.
"But Thor, we must find Odin. He's our only chance: the king." Her strained voice, likely from long moments spent screaming her war cry while in battle, was laced with quiet desperation, and the unmistakable sadness in Thor's gaze made Loki's throat close up. Thor shook his head, and Jane tightened her hold on his burly hand, probably for both their sakes.
"Odin is…dead," he murmured almost imperceptibly, his deep timbre trembling with suppressed emotion, and Loki was reminded, painfully, of what he had done to the only living person that had ever accepted him. It was a fact that felt the need to rise to his attention whenever he least needed it to, and he averted his gaze so as not to see the effects of his actions, as well.
As he glanced away, Natasha stole a glimpse at him and frowned, her dark eyes unreadable, and Steve pretended like he didn't notice, swallowing thickly. Sif's eyes rounded considerably and her dark lips parted as she tilted her head with morbid interest.
"What?"
"He's dead and I can't help you, Sif. I'm mortal now, as is Loki," he explained hastily, softly, reluctantly, and she pretended like she hadn't heard any of it as her whole body went rigid, her hands clenching into fists upon her lap, her jaw muscle tensing.
Slowly, she turned to Loki, and there was such an icy glare fixed upon her features that he leaned back in his seat on the bar stool, unblinking as he leveled her with a stare of his own. The room went silent, and so it was easy to detect the wave of emotion in her voice when she mutter harshly to the trickster.
"You killed him." It wasn't a question, and so Loki only blinked in confirmation, and there was a change in the warrior maiden so profound that even Tony, who'd only know her for mere hours, could see the heartbreak written upon her face. It was as if she'd just suffered the worst disappointment of her life, as if her best friend had stabbed her in the heart, as if she'd been betrayed and abused and harmed in all the ways imaginable, as if the quickest and most peaceful death could not end her suffering.
Loki's own expression turned remorseful, and as Thor glanced between them, he was reminded of how he'd tried so completely to forgive Loki, to help Loki, to love Loki, and here was one of his oldest friends, looking at his brother like she knew him better than anyone, even Thor himself. Sif stood, casting a glance out the large windows to her left as she attempted to erase the look from her face.
"I'll retire now; I'll be in Fandral's room, and we can both keep watch on Amora there," she murmured weakly, turning, as she began to walk past Loki with her back stiffened and her chin held high, though her lips trembled. She stopped just at his side, gazing past him, the conflicted shine in her eyes indicative of how badly she wanted to keep walking, but something rooted her, and she looked up at the trickster.
"She would be devastated, Loki. I hope you die knowing the full impact of what you've done."
It was a cold voice that poured from her, and Loki flinched noticeably as she stalked past. Thor watched her leave, and when he glanced over at his brother, the confused glint in his blue gaze only brightened. Loki's heart pounded in his chest, traitorous, and he cursed the day he'd ever grown attached to those around him, the day he'd made himself so very vulnerable to the sting and ache of the knowledge that he could ever hurt them.
And Thor, looking so intensely sad, as if reminded of all he'd lost and all Loki had taken away, couldn't quell the unforgiving harshness to the set of his jaw, the turn of his mouth, the tenseness of his posture. He couldn't stop it from seeping through and he worried that he'd never be able to.
Loki looked over at the bar and noticed a coffee cup, his cup, sitting lonely and untouched upon the counter, empty and cold.
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