Chapter 6: Portrait of a Woman

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"Your thoughts, gentlemen?" Fury asks as the screen fades to black. They had watched the surveillance video at least three times now, and Steve doesn't think a fourth will do them any more good at this point.

"How do we know Loki's not making it all up?" Tony eventually blurts out after the initial horror of potentially having another alien attack sizzles. "Thor's never mentioned anything about Thanos, has he?"

"It would be nice if he were making it all up." Bruce rubs at his temples. The city had just managed to clear the debris from the first Chitauri invasion, and this second attack could very well undo everything they had worked for. It would be fear, desolation, and destruction all over again.

"So what's the plan?" Tony sighs. "Do we have a plan?"

"Loki wants to go back to Asgard." Steve says, figuring that this is at least a good starting point.

Fury arches a condescending eyebrow. "And you believe him?"

"I don't have a reason not to…yet."

"Other than it's Loki we're dealing with." Tony quips.

"Why would he lie about this though?" Steve points out. Everyone seems so focused on what Loki is hiding that no one is paying attention to what the god is actually willing to say. Not that Steve believes Loki entirely either, but if they were going to resolve this, they need to consider both ends of the argument.

"Maybe to lure us into a false sense of security." Tony props his feet up on the table as he offers his theory, despite Fury's glare. "So we'd think he's on our side."

"If those were actually his motives, there are more believable lies he could have told."

"Like what? That he's sorry or something?" Tony snorts, "Compared to another alien attack, which would you believe more?"

Steve frowns, because both reasons do seem equally unlikely. But there's something different about Loki that Steve doesn't want to brush off as simply a trick. Sure, the god has shown no hint of remorse towards the many who had died months ago, but at least, he's not angry or insane or trying to make matters worse, considering the Chitauri can very well destroy New York if they do come after him. Loki claims he wants to return to Asgard with as little trouble as possible, and certainly, even the god of mischief and lies knows when to tell the truth, if that's the only benefit there is.

"You know, he could have chosen something harder to disproof," the soldier eventually adds, "Right now, we can just verify with Thor whether Thanos really did attack Asgard. And he can tell us if Loki is lying or not, even before he gets here."

"Cap's got a point." Bruce taps his fingers against the table as he offers his thoughts, being the neutral party. "Before we decide anything, we need to find Thor."

"Fine, fine. Pressure's on me. I got it." Tony rolls his eyes, leaning back dangerously into his chair. "Skyping with Asgard isn't as easy as it sounds."

"Maybe you should swallow your gigantic ego and ask Jane for help." The doctor suggests.

"Jane?" Tony appears positively scandalized.

"Dr. Foster." Bruce corrects himself, faltering. "I'm allowed to call her that. We're acquainted."

"Dr. Foster is able to reach Thor?" Fury speaks suddenly.

"No," Bruce quickly answers, "But she might be able to offer some insight, being an expert in astrophysics."

"Then why isn't she working on communication with Asgard?"

"Tony doesn't play well with others." Bruce responds, to which Tony merely shrugs. "It's true."

"Well then, I hope the possibility of another alien invasion will provide you with some incentive." The director responds humorlessly, and Tony sighs in surrender.

"Fine, tell Jane and Selvig they can stay in the tower, on Thor's floor."

"I think Pepper arranged for that already." Bruce informs.

Tony throws his hands in the air. "Why do I even bother having opinions?"

"Close the portal and contact Thor." Fury reiterates, signaling that their meeting is close to being adjourned. "Make those your top priorities, gentlemen. I will contact Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton on the status of their mission. From now on, be armed at all times. And Captain." Fury's one good eye focuses on Steve just as the soldier was forgetting he's still part of this conversation. "Stay with Loki—in the mornings, afternoons, as often as humanly possible without driving yourself insane. We need every bit of information he has to give."

Stepping out of the conference room, Steve thinks that the god is right about one thing at least. He hasn't changed any of their plans, just offered a new sense of urgency.

###

"The team," The soldier says as he stands once again before Loki's cell. "We had a long discussion yesterday."

"Have you reached a verdict?" The god sounds unimpressed.

"We're going to do everything we can to get you home as soon as possible."

"Asgard is not my home." Loki's jaws tighten, almost as if he hadn't planned to say it aloud, although he collects himself soon after. "But that does not matter. Who is in charge of arranging for my return?"

"That would be Tony, I guess," Steve answers, "He's working on contacting Thor."

"And how is his progress?"

The soldier hesitates. Tony has been working on communication with Asgard ever since Loki's capture at the end of last summer, but he project has been on and off because bigger and more important things always seem to come along. After Loki had crashed back to Earth again, this had been the first time Tony even looked at his blueprints in weeks. Steve thinks this is hardly reassuring and wonders if it's worth mentioning at all.

"Dismal at best, I presume." Loki concludes, "You do not have to answer me. I know you fear forgoing information about your primitive technology. Even if it is information I already am aware of."

"Yeah, well," the soldier shrugs, "I'm sure we'll be more efficient now that you've given us a reason to be."

"Perhaps you should allow me to help myself." Loki's eyes flick to his, assessing him, lips slightly parted as if he were testing his words. "Once I return to Asgard, all problems—both yours and mine—will be solved."

Loki knows it's a long shot, his shoulders tense half-expecting Steve to laugh at him or reprimand him, or both. The soldier smiles instead. "We can't just trust you and let you do whatever you want."

"Of course not," Loki says immediately, "Which is why I am allowing you to set your terms. What would I need to do to convince you?"

Steve wants to tell Loki that he is being unreasonable, because he had tried to take over the Earth, and he had killed so many people. There is no way the Avengers can ever trust him outside of glass prisons and 24/7 surveillance (and even then they don't trust him). But Loki is looking at him with such petulance and self-righteousness, almost as if he doesn't even realize just how out of line he is.

"You'll need to answer some more questions first," Steve opts for the softer approach rather than casting off the god right away. He needs Loki's cooperation, after all, and angering the god wouldn't have helped either of them.

Loki seems to think this fair as well, sitting straighter on the edge of his bed. No more cuts or bruises left by the sixth day. Even the stiches on his side are mostly faded. "Very well. What do you wish to know?"

"Thanos," Steve says, "What else can you tell me about him? What are his powers?"

"I know not of the extent of his abilities," the god responds calmly, voice steady despite the strain of his muscles, "I can only assume his physical strength, stamina, and durability is nothing short of an Asgardian. But what sets him apart is the incredible expanse of energy he is able to store and unleash at will."

"And he can travel through dimensions?"

"As of right now, only if there is already a tear, a weak spot, in time and space. Such as the abyss left by the Bifrost, or the hole above your living chambers through which I fell."

"I don't suppose you have any tips."

"I cannot help you without my magic." The god responds frankly, and Steve thinks it was worth a shot, at least.

"He is also capable of telepathic projections," Loki continues, "Although they are merely shadows of his true self, his projections are still very powerful and very real."

"Are they like your projections? The ones you made in Stuttgart?"

The god frowns. "Those were merely clones. The projections Thanos is capable of embodies his consciousness, allowing him to travel to places his real body cannot. They are far more powerful, and useful, I regret to say."

Steve takes a few seconds to wrap his mind around the differences. "When Thanos broke you out, was it a projection?"

"Most likely."

"How can you tell?"

Loki gently touched his fingers to the pale span of his neck, where dark purple bruises had once bloomed. "These healed, didn't they?"

"And the wound on your side. Did he do that too?"

"Yes," Loki says bitterly, eyes hard and jaws clenching He stares at Steve challengingly, daring the soldier to pity him or to consider him a victim. And Steve looks back in near disbelief, because Loki is so goddamn proud, as if his dignity is the only thing he has left. And Steve can't help it, can't resist the knot in his stomach or the sympathy that must be so evident in his eyes.

He decides to change the subject instead. "What does Thanos look like?"

"Large," Loki seems slightly confused but answers the question nonetheless, "With grey-purple skin, a thick jaw—"

"Wait, hold on." Steve takes his sketchbook from his bag and sets it inside the crook of his elbow. He takes out a pencil as well. "Okay, continue."

The god pinches his brows together. "What are you doing?"

"I'll draw him, so we'll have a visual to work with." Steve drags his pencil in rough contours, sketching something resembling a face.

"That is not necessary." Loki looks at him with genuine bewilderment, head tilted to the side, and Steve almost wants to draw him instead, although he perishes the thought immediately. "You will not fail to recognize him," the god continues, "If you were ever unfortunate enough to meeting him in the first place."

"We need to know exactly what we're dealing with." Steve justifies his decision. "And having a decent picture of him—albeit a drawing—is a good place to start."

"Are there not professionals for this?" the god says dryly, and Steve is taken aback at how Loki can make him feel so self-conscious even without trying.

"I'm not going to draw stick figures, if that's what you're expecting." Steve takes a few steps towards the cell, until the edge of his book is nearly touching the transparent walls. "Come here. This isn't going to work if you're not watching."

Loki must have found the idea absurd, but complies without anymore snide remarks. He approaches Steve from the other side of the cell until they're face to face with only a pan of glass between them. They're nearly the same height, although Loki, despite the chains around his wrists and ankles, appears taller by regality alone.

Steve decides, at this moment, to sit down on the floor. Loki looks at him as if he has grown two heads. "I'm going to sit because this might take awhile. You're free to stand if you want."

Loki very unwillingly descends to his knees, glaring daggers at Steve the entire time for forcing him into such an strange situation. The soldier tries to cover up a smile as he shifts to lean against the glass sideways, so Loki will have a better view of the sketchbook.

"Purple skin, thick jaw, what else?"

"I've only seen him with his helmet on," Loki continues, "It frames his face, curves around the eyes and squares around the sides. Make his jaw wider and his eyes smaller. He has lines along his lips to his chin."

They spend a good hour on the portrait before Loki is finally satisfied. Thanos looks fearsome and grotesque, features very much resembling a skull and reminding Steve of the worst of evils.

"You should add color to this." Loki insists as he studies the drawing, expression dubious, "The fact that he is purple is an important detail."

"I'll make note of it before I show the rest of the team." Steve is faintly surprised by the god's request, sounding almost child-like in persistency. He hides his amusement as best as he can, doubting that the god would appreciate anything other than utmost seriousness.

He moves to stand, but Loki stops him. "Wait, there's one more."

"One more?"

"They call him the Other, a subordinate of Thanos who acts as his messenger. He is hooded so that his eyes are hidden. There is metal around his lips and chin, and his mouth is red like blood."

Steve turns to a blank page before setting lead against paper again, hand moving skillfully and delicately to every detail Loki offers. They spend another hour sitting side by side with only a glass wall in between.

"Is there anyone else?" Steve asks as he rests his pencil. Loki hasn't made any more suggestions, which Steve assumes to mean that the portrait is complete. The Other is smaller than Thanos but hideously formed and just as terrifying, and the soldier wonders how Loki even managed to find such terrible allies.

"Yes," Loki answers, voice barely a whisper, which snaps Steve from his thoughts, "A woman."

Steve draws the woman Loki describes—elegant and fair and agelessly beautiful—blond hair long and curling, cheek bones high, jaw strong and resolute, and eyes wise but kind. He listens to Loki without ever meeting his eyes, takes in the softness of his voice, and sadness like wilted lilies and wingless butterflies.

"Who is she?" Steve asks as he darkens the shadow below the perfect arch of her brow.

Loki doesn't respond.

"Is she from Asgard?" Steve had realized a long time ago that this woman—whoever she might be—has nothing to do with Thanos or the dimension of the dead.

"Yes."

The soldier sets his pencil down and returns his focus to the god, but Loki doesn't seem to notice, transfixed by the portrait in Steve hands. The soldier sighs and asks the obligatory questions Fury would have wanted him to no matter the circumstances. "Does she possess any threat to the safety of our planet?"

"No."

"Then you can keep it, if you want."

"What?" That catches Loki's attention, as the god furrows his brows, green eyes meeting blue with strange curiosity.

Steve pushes himself up into a standing position before walking towards he panel of controls beside the entrance to the cell. He probably shouldn't do this, and Fury will probably reprimand him later, but he dials the passcode nonetheless. The glass doors of the cell part just long enough for him to step through. He walks over to where Loki is still seated before kneeling down before him. He carefully tears the drawing of the woman out of his book.

Loki stares at him, eyes flickering with a mixture of confusion, doubt, skepticism, and disbelief—more emotion than Steve has ever seen coming from the god.

"Here, it's yours," Steve gestures for him to take the drawing, "You can throw it out if you don't like it. I won't take offense."

Loki smiles thinly, raising a tentative hand in acceptance. "You are quite the artist, Captain. I am pleasantly surprised."

"Thanks, I guess," Steve feels a blush creep to his cheeks. He can never accept compliments gracefully—not from friends or strangers—and certainly not from Loki, as unexpected as it may be.

The soldier moves to stand, eyes never leaving the seated god. Loki has the drawing smoothed against his lap, his fingers gingerly against the edges as if the paper could burst into flames any moment.

"We'll talk more tomorrow, alright?" Steve says as he prepares to exit.

"Tomorrow," Loki repeats, without meeting his eyes.

Thanks for reading until now! Till next time~