Attend To Me

by Desaded

What happens in Stuttgart, stays in Stuttgart.

5. The Truth of the Matter

The silence stretched out and I did my best not to stare directly at that bowed and broken figure at Odin's feet. I told myself that the labored breathing that wracked his narrow frame was none of my concern; that the deep bruises marring his pale flesh were all part and parcel of the punishment that he had earned.

But while my brain insisted on such, my stomach clenched and I fought the urge to be sick all over the pristine red carpet I stood upon. I hadn't expected to be faced with this. I wasn't ready. Not in the least.

"Have you nothing to say," Odin murmured quietly. "Even now, when your former thrall has revealed the truth? Will you neither confirm nor deny his tale, Loki?"

"I see no need," came the rasping reply; that cultured voice I still sometimes heard in my dreams gone rough with disuse. "My words will not sway you."

"Rise and face me," Odin growled.

Loki showed no sign he'd heard Odin's command, remaining on his knees, head still bent.

Frigga sighed and took a step toward the dais. "Loki, please," she said in a low voice. "Will you not speak in your own defense?"

He turned his head then, peering at the Queen through the matted tangle of his hair before his gaze slid to me. "No, Mother," he replied softly as his eyes bored into mine. "It is as the archer said; I deserve this."

Hearing my own words repeated back to me stung; bringing an ache up into my throat, and making me want to turn away from that piercing stare. But I squared my shoulders and told myself I wasn't wrong. He did deserve to pay for his actions.

"You need not bear the full weight of guilt, brother," Thor pleaded. "You were not alone in this!"

"I made my choices," Loki stated. "Tell me; how does this new information change anything?"

"It changes everything," Odin said wearily. "Now rise, Loki. I must think on all that the archer has told us. You shall have a brief reprieve from your punishment while I examine the facts."

Loki remained frozen, his eyes still locked on mine, and my heart was somewhere in my throat as he studied me. Odin sighed and nodded to the nearest guard who took Loki's arm and attempted to haul him upright. The dark god snarled in response, tearing his gaze from mine and twisting away from the man at his side. He struggled to his feet under his own power, and I looked away so as not to see how his legs trembled.

"Take him to his quarters," Odin commanded. "There are wards in place to keep him penned until I have made my decision."

"Yes, my King," the guards answered in unison. And with that, just as quickly as he had appeared, Loki was marched off.

"So…what about me," I questioned. "Can I go now?"

"Not as of yet, I am afraid," the King sighed. "When Loki's sentence was imposed, I was not the sole power involved. You will have to repeat your tale to the council."

"And how long is that going to take," I demanded. "You can't just…you can't keep me here forever!"

"We would never attempt such a thing," Frigga answered quietly. "Once you have spoken your piece to the council, then you will be returned to your realm. Until then you will be our guest, archer."

"Yeah. Guest," I snorted. "Is that what you call your prisoners here?"

"Enough," the Queen hissed. "I understand your anger. I do. And if you insist, then I shall personally send you home. But have some compassion. Surely you are not so hard-hearted as to deny a mother's hope to save her son?"

And there was that feeling again; like I was five years old and being scolded. I didn't much like it then, and I liked it even less now, so I turned my attention back to Odin.

"How is it that you're the King, but Loki's punishment wasn't yours to hand out?"

Odin sank down into his throne, the weight of his years seeming to descend upon him suddenly. "It is rather simple, really. There has always been a ruling council in Asgard; one which I turn to when I need guidance." He paused, scrubbing one hand over his face before continuing. "Even the greatest of kings need guidance at times. And when Loki was brought home, it was thought that were I to decide the fate of my own son, then perhaps his punishment would not fully meet the gravity of his crimes."

Oh. Well that actually made sense.

"Ok, fine," I allowed. "How long am I stuck here? How long until I can see this council?"

"Two days, at most," Odin answered. "And once you have spoken to them, then I will return you to Midgard. Is this agreeable?"

"It'll have to be," I huffed. "Not sure how well my people are going to take all this, but I'd suggest trying to contact them. Maybe head off any problems before they can start?"

"I will make sure of it," Odin said quietly. "And I am sorry for my son's rash actions, archer."

"Which one," I asked dryly.

Odin lifted his head, spearing me with a sad look.

"Both," he whispered.

-x-x-x-

Thor was quiet as he led me from the throne room, seemingly lost in thought. I let him have his silence; after all, I had things of my own to mull over.

Like that look Loki had given me. His gaze had been hollow; resigned. The glimmer of madness I remembered so well had been utterly missing, and in its' place was something akin to grief. Maybe even a hint of remorse.

But remorse for what? That was the million dollar question.

It occurred to me that I had no idea what Loki's punishment entailed. Thor hadn't said, and we hadn't asked. But judging from the state the Trickster had been in, it was brutal. And again my stomach twisted when I thought about what it must've taken to turn the proud, regal god I remembered into that broken creature that would rather keep to his knees than rise and face his former father.

Suddenly, I didn't want to follow that line of thought any further.

"Where are you taking me," I asked softly.

"You will be given quarters near my own," Thor answered absently, his mind obviously elsewhere. "Anything you need will be provided, archer. Simply ask and it shall be delivered."

"Anything?"

Thor turned and eyed me warily, before saying, "Within reason. Yes."

"And am I free to look around the place? Or am I confined to my room?"

The expression of shock on the Thunderer's face was expansive. "Of course you are free to come and go! Despite what you think, archer, you are not a prisoner here."

"Yeah, except for that whole 'Sorry, you're gonna have to stay here until we're done with you,' thing."

Thor's shock gave way to chagrin and he turned away from me. "Come," he said gruffly. "There is no use discussing what cannot be changed."

"Seems to be the trend with your family," I grumbled, feeling my anger beginning to flare brightly again. This day had featured far more bullshit than I was prepared to handle graciously, and I could feel a meltdown of epic proportions coming on. Thankfully, I didn't see any way today could get any worse.

Boy, was I wrong.

"What is this," boomed a jovial voice from behind us. "Thor has returned from Midgard and no one saw fit to notify us?!"

Thor pulled up short as I threw a look back over one shoulder. Coming toward us were three men. One was round and jolly, the other stoic and vaguely Asian, and the third…all I could see was a mustache Errol Flynn would have been proud to have owned, and a predatory grin that gave me the immediate creeps.

Turning, the Thunder God gave a wan smile and quick greeting. "My friends," he said. "Forgive me. I had not planned on returning this day, but circumstances demanded it."

"And I see you have brought back a tribute," smirked Mustache, his eyes crawling over me in a way that raised every single red flag in my arsenal. "A rather fetching one, if I may be so bold."

"Wait…what do you mean by tribute?" I sent a glare Thor's way. "What does he mean by that?"

Thor winced before shooting a sour look at Mustache. "Fandral, you are aware that taking tributes is a thing of the past, and is now forbidden."

"Yes. 'Forbidden'," chuckled Fandral while dropping a sly wink. His two companions had the decency to look slightly embarrassed and avoided my gaze, instead intently studying one of the many hanging tapestries that lined the hallway.

"What the fuck is he talking about," I growled.

"In days long past, the Midgardians offered the gods tributes as a show of their loyalty," Thor mumbled. "It was common for those returning from your realm to be accompanied by their tributes."

"They gave you…people," I asked in a tight voice.

The Thunderer ignored my question and snapped at Fandral, "Enough! This is my guest and Avenger's team-mate, the archer, Clint Barton."

"Oh," Fandral returned, his eyes wide and a note of mock-deference in his tone. "Forgive me, then. I hadn't realized that this was Loki's personal tribute."

And before I even knew that I was moving, I had crossed the distance between me and Mustache, and launched myself at that smug, knowing grin. My fist contacted soft flesh which I drove into the unyielding teeth that lay just behind. I could feel the snarl twisting my mouth; feel the way my eyes felt far too large and the black rage thrumming through my veins.

I wanted to peel this son-of-a-bitch's face off his skull; rip him apart and scatter the remains.

I wanted to end him.

The look of surprise in Fandral's eyes as I rocked his head back was so fucking sweet. The trickle of blood that burst from the corner of his mouth was even better. He stumbled back, one hand clapped to his face, and I advanced as everyone around us stood frozen in shock.

"Think you're funny," I hissed. "Let's see how funny you are when you're spitting out pieces of your goddamned teeth."

It was then that Thor lunged forward and wrapped one thick arm around my waist, lifting me entirely off the ground and backing away. Fandral spat a bloody wad of phlegm to the polished tile beneath our feet and directed a crimson-streaked grin my way.

"Did I strike a nerve, mortal," he asked. "So very like your master, you are."

I bucked and twisted in Thor's grasp as I howled out, "He's not my fucking master! He's nothing to me, and I am nothing like him!"

"Yes," Fandral stated, his words dripping sarcasm. "I can see how very unlike Loki you are. Your sanity is absolutely unwavering, and you do not seem to have a violent bone in your body."

"Fuck you," I screamed while prying at the corded forearm clamped around me. "Put me down, Thor! Right fucking now!"

"You should go," Thor growled at Fandral. "And mind your tongue, friend. I would not underestimate this one. He is far more dangerous than you may think."

"As you wish," Fandral said. He then gave a slight bow to Thor, and a mocking wink to me, before turning on his heel and stalking away.

"Will you be calm if I release you," the god asked in a low tone.

"Yes," I spat, the indignity of being held aloft momentarily outweighing my need to exact revenge. "Just…let go of me."

Thor set me down carefully and gave me a weary look laden with confusion. "I understand this day has been trying for you, Clint Barton, but that was an extreme reaction."

"Call me Clint, okay," I snapped. "When you use my whole name like that it just sounds weird."

"Fine. Clint, then. Now tell me what provoked you to such sudden violence."

"Really? You have no idea," I asked. "Your friend Fandral was kind of an asshole. I don't respond well to assholes."

"He has a skill in saying precisely the wrong thing," Thor answered quietly.

"You think," I snorted.

Thor stared at me, eyes narrowed. "Still. You seemed to take great offense to Fandral's words."

"Of course I did," I exploded. "He called me a tribute! He thought I was a…slave!"

"And yet you did not fully wake to anger until he called you Loki's tribute."

I met Thor's stare head on, stating firmly, "Well maybe I'm still a little touchy about that. Being kidnapped, brainwashed, and forced to act against my nature has a way of sticking with a person. Have you ever had anything like that happen to you?"

"I cannot say that I have."

"Then you don't get to question my reactions," I growled. "Now how's about you show me to my room? I think I've had my fill of interacting with you Asgardians."

"Of course," Thor murmured, giving me one last appraising look before turning on his heel and walking away.

I followed slowly, muttering under my breath. If this was how my time in the Golden City was going to go, I'd be lucky if I ever made it home again.

-x-x-x-

My room was at the end of the hall, a short distance from where I had socked Fandral in the mouth. Thor stopped before the door and gestured across the hallway. "My own chambers are just here, Clint. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask any of the palace staff. They have been instructed to see to your needs as they would my own."

"Thanks," I grumbled. "I think I'm gonna need a drink…or six."

Thor nodded, saying, "I suspected as much. I will summon a servant before I go to speak to Loki."

I struggled to hide the immediate stiffening of my spine at the mention of Loki's name. "What are you going to talk to him about," I asked carefully.

"I will try to convince him that he should speak to the council. He must see that to continue to hold his silence is pure folly."

"He seemed pretty dead set on not doing that," I replied. "Hell, he wouldn't even talk to your dad about it."

Thor sighed. "Loki is stubborn. He rarely does anything unless it is something he himself wants to do. Nonetheless, I will try to sway him."

"Well, good luck with that," I muttered. "Where did Odin put him, anyway?"

Thor's eyes darted to the right, touching on the door next to my own.

"You're kidding," I said flatly. "He's my fucking neighbor?"

"That is where Loki's chambers lie, and that is where he can be safely contained," Thor answered. "The dungeons would not hold one such as him."

"Awesome," I breathed, fighting down the touch of panic I felt at having my former captor so close. "I'm just gonna go throw myself off the balcony now. Cancel that mead, okay? I won't be needing it."

"Do not do anything rash, Hawk," Thor soothed. "Loki cannot leave his rooms. You will not have to see him."

"Doesn't make me feel any better, big guy," I replied. "But thanks for trying."

The Thunder god looked troubled. "I do not wish to cause you any further dismay. If it pleases you, I can have you moved elsewhere."

"No," I huffed. "Really, don't worry about it. I'm gonna have to face my feelings over this whole mess sooner or later, so I may as well put on my big girl panties and get it over with."

The look of confusion on Thor's face would have been comical if I hadn't been marginally freaking out on the inside. "Big…girl…panties," he questioned slowly. "I do not understand this term."

I gave a wan smile and answered, "Just a figure of speech. Don't hurt yourself trying to figure it out." I paused then and clapped Thor on the back. "Really. I'll be fine. Go talk to your brother. I think I'm just gonna lay down for a while."

Thor nodded walked the few short feet to Loki's chambers, giving a brief knock before letting himself in. I stood in the hall a moment longer, staring after him before I let myself into my room, shutting the door behind me and leaning against it. I forced myself to breathe deeply; evenly, as I struggled to keep my head together.

"Fuck this day," I murmured, closing my eyes and grinding my head against the door at my back. "I need a goddamn reset button. This is just…too much."

Sighing, I pushed myself upright and stepped away from the door to explore the room before me. It was spacious and decorated in the over-the-top manner that seemed the norm here in Asgard. Velvet drapes ringed the bed, and ran across the far wall, bracketing a series of arches that led out to a large, open air balcony. I gave a cursory glance outside, taking in the whole of the city laid out far below before I went back to pacing the perimeter of the room. And once I'd mapped every inch of the room; once I'd memorized every entrance and exit; only then did I collapse on the wide, high bed and allow my eyes to close.

I drifted off to sleep with the muted sound of Thor's voice bleeding through the wall, his pleading tone much more discernible than his words.

-x-x-x-

I woke an indeterminable time later to the sound of my door slowly opening. Immediately I was gripped with panic. Thor's assurances that Loki was contained echoed through my head, and logically I knew…knew it wasn't him. But the primordial side of my brain was screaming that he'd broken free; found a loophole, and was coming to reclaim me. That he was going to pull out my will again and make me his loyal little lapdog. That all this was planned; that I'd been brought to Asgard, far away from my team, far away from any help purely so Loki could take back what was his.

And under that veil of terror, I felt an unexplainable spike of excitement.

I rolled off the far side of the bed, my eyes locked on the door as it swung open. A young girl stepped inside bearing a large tray and I felt the adrenaline drain out of me in a slow, thumping flood. Turning, her eyes widened as she caught sight of me, half crouched and glaring back at her. She quickly dropped her gaze, set the tray on a nearby table, and fled the room without saying a word.

Scrubbing my hand over my face, I uttered a strained laugh and skirted around the bed to see what the mystery girl had brought.

The tray was heaped with bread, cheese, several varieties of fruit, slices of rare roasted meat…and best of all, a giant pitcher of mead. I immediately poured myself a goblet, settled into a plush chair and set about getting well and truly drunk.

About an hour later, I'd managed to demolish most of the food in front of me, and the pitcher of mead had only the dregs remaining. I felt a little more optimistic about things. Still sorta pissed about where I was, and even more so about how I'd gotten there. But the alcohol haze was definitely helping to keep me calm.

Which was no easy task, as I'd been lost in thought pretty much since I'd sat down at the table.

I'd turned over my treacherous feelings; examining them from every angle; wondering why I couldn't seem to quash my attraction to Loki. Even after all he'd done, some part of me still wanted the bastard. And I didn't know why.

Yeah, he'd gotten into my head. Yeah, we'd had one short interlude where it was just us. No thrall to color my actions, no distractions or power plays. Just…us.

And I couldn't lie to myself about that evening in Stuttgart. I'd enjoyed having Loki. The way he'd responded to me, and by the end, sorta opened up to me? It was scary how much I'd liked that.

But then he'd turned on me.

The hurt swelled in my chest, and I drained the last bit of mead while pushing that thought out of my head. It didn't pay to think too deeply on that. What happened had happened, and nothing could change that.

'But what if,' whispered that little voice in my head. 'What if he hadn't been pulled away? What if he'd been able to say whatever it was he was about to before the Other took him? What then?'

"Shut up," I muttered, rising unsteadily to my feet. "Just…shut up."

I turned toward the balcony, noting that while I'd been busy torturing my liver, twilight had fallen. The sky outside had gone a mix of violet and gold, and a slight breeze was rustling the velvet drapes, bringing the scent of flowers into my room. I wobbled my way outside to lean against the marble railing, looking down over the city below.

'What was he going to say,' came that voice again, poking sharp little fingers deep into the wound in my heart.

"I don't know," I shouted. "And it doesn't fucking matter!"

And then, from my right, I heard Loki say, "If it matters not, then why are you shouting it to the heavens?"

I wheeled around, nearly stumbling in my shock as my feet tangled together. My eyes darted over the balcony, seeing nothing other than the ridiculous furnishing and a tall, thick trellis covered in ivy.

"Wha-where are you," I demanded. "Come out where I can see you!"

"I cannot," Loki stated calmly. "Odin's wards have penned me most effectively. I can move about my rooms and this balcony…but not beyond."

I stepped closer to the trellis, noting how it didn't quite match the surrounding décor, yet formed a perfect barrier between my area and Loki's.

"They put this up so I wouldn't even have to see you," I muttered.

"Very astute," Loki answered dryly. "I am one to be protected against. Even the sight of me causes distress, it seems."

"I don't know about that."

"No," Loki questioned. "You seemed quite distressed when first you saw me in the throne room."

"Wasn't expecting to ever see you again," I said in a thick voice. "Wasn't ready for that."

"Be that as it may, your dismay was apparent," Loki whispered, and I told myself that I didn't hear hurt in that quiet voice.

I told myself that I shouldn't even be talking to him. He was a liar, and a thief, and he'd do or say anything to gain favor. I told myself that he was trying to make me sympathetic so that I would speak favorably to the council on his behalf. I told myself that nothing good would come from this exchange, and that I should just go back into my room and ignore him.

So of course, I kept talking.

"Well, it wasn't so much you. Just that…you didn't look all that good," I answered slowly, trying hard to keep my words from slurring. Seems that the mead was catching up with me.

"Had you expected me to be unchanged despite my punishment?"

"Thought they'd at least clean you up before parading you around."

The laugh that came from the far side of the trellis was unexpected. "No. That would have been a kindness, and I do not deserve such."

"Don't say that," I blurted out.

There was silence for a long moment before Loki replied, "And is that concern I hear? Strange. I had not thought to receive such from you."

"Maybe not quite concern," I said gruffly.

"No," Loki said flatly. "After all, I heard what you said in the hall."

"I might have been a little harsh," I allowed. "But I was angry and I didn't even know you were there!"

"Not in the throne room," the god snapped. "The hall. I heard your exchange with Fandral."

Oh. Well, fuck.

"So much anger you still carry," Loki continued. "So quick to resort to violence when referred to as mine. And yet you insist I am nothing to you."

"Yeah, well you sort of brought that on yourself, didn't you," I growled.

"Did I," he mused.

"Yes. You did. I told you in Stuttgart that you were going to have to answer for your actions someday. Looks like that's today."

Silence again. This time for so long that I thought maybe he'd retreated back inside. But then Loki spoke, and the edge of misery I heard in his voice made my stomach clench.

"None of what occurred that night could have been avoided," he murmured. "There was no other way."

"Bullshit," I snarled. "You had a choice. You just made the wrong one."

"You do not know what choices I had, or what paths I could have trod. I had my reasons for what I did."

"So tell me, then," I demanded. "Tell me why!"

"I cannot," Loki whispered.

"You can't, or you won't," I questioned.

"Both, and neither," he answered cryptically.

"Oh, well that just clears up everything," I seethed.

"If I am nothing to you, archer, then why do you care? Why is it so important for you to understand my actions? You are free of me now. That is all that should matter."

"But I'm not," I growled. "I'm not free of you. And I don't think I'll ever be."

"What do you mean," Loki asked slowly.

"Just what I said. You're still in my head. Maybe not quite like you were before…but you're there. And I can't get you out! I'm all twisted up and confused and I can't stop thinking of Stuttgart and how you were when it was just us, and how you were just about to say something to me right before you froze up," I stopped there, nearly panting in my distress. "You could have let me help you. You could've let me go. But you just put me back under. No qualms. No remorse. You just…made me your slave again. And then when you were done with me? You threw me away."

"Barton, please," Loki begged, his tone raw and trembling. "Do not make me relive that. You said that I would be the one to ask myself the harsh questions when all was said and done, and I have. I cannot make you understand why I did what I did."

"You won't even try," I bit out, wishing I could see his face. If I could just see his eyes, then maybe I'd know if this show of remorse was true.

"Can you not see the truth of the matter," he asked quietly. "Can you not see why I put you back under my thrall?"

"Because you needed me," I mumbled.

"No," Loki barked. "It was because I wanted you. I would have done anything to keep you at my side! I thought perhaps I could convince you to stay with me of your own accord, but that was never meant to be."

I took a step back, shocked by his admission. Part of me felt a shiver of pride while another bristled at what Loki had done. What he had felt he had the right to do.

"So you decided that if you couldn't have me without the thrall, then you'd just steal my will and make me stay with you? Real fucking nice."

"For a brief, shining moment I thought that you would accept me; that you would stay with me," the god whispered. "For a time, you were mine. I-I did not want that to end."

"Then you should have let me help you," I howled. "You had no fucking right to enthrall me! YOU HAD NO RIGHT!"

"I WAS TRYING TO PROTECT YOU," Loki screamed out. "I had to pretend you didn't matter! I had to convince the Other that you meant nothing to me, otherwise he would have used you to control me! They would have hurt you; maimed you; killed you, if only to make me do their bidding!"

My mouth shut with a snap, nearly catching the tip of my tongue between my teeth, and I felt my heart drop into my stomach. My asshole brain played back every moment of that night in Stuttgart in excruciating detail, starting when Loki had come out of his trance. How he'd refused to look at me; the expression of thinly veiled pain when he'd finally met my eyes. The sadness he'd carried at that moment. And I knew then that he was speaking the truth.

Suddenly, it all made sense.

"Now do you understand," Loki sobbed. "I was attempting to save you from a much worse fate. And in the process I made you hate me…but you were safe, and that was worth bearing your scorn."

"I-I didn't know," I whispered. "I just thought…oh goddamn it, I think I'm gonna puke." I bent at the waist, planting my hands on my knees and drawing in great, shuddering breathes, trying to contain the roiling in my belly.

"I couldn't tell you," the god continued, in a hoarse tone. "Not while my allies still lived. And once they were defeated, I lacked the opportunity."

"You were muzzled every time I saw you."

"Yes," Loki replied miserably. "And you were in the company of your team. I did not wish to cause them to cast a circumspect eye upon you."

"This is too fucking much," I groaned. "Is that why you didn't speak up? Why you didn't tell Odin of your partners? Did you take all the blame on yourself because of me?"

"I deserved every measure of punishment because of what I had done to you," Loki answered in a small voice.

"No. No, no, no," I babbled, pushing myself upright and stepping to the trellis, twining my fingers through the ivy. "I'm gonna fix this, Loki. I'm gonna tell them everything. This isn't right. It isn't right!"

And then I felt the light, tentative touch of Loki's fingers stroking over my own, and I pressed my forehead against the lattice. "It's not right," I repeated weakly.

"I'm so very sorry," Loki whispered. "For everything."

"I know," I replied softy. "Me too."