Thrown Down

Dinner in the palace was a quiet affair that evening. Alex didn't have much appetite after the picnic and the events of the day, so rather than joining Frigga's table, she retired to her chambers to read in peace on her balcony. Loki had been called away immediately upon their return to provide testimony of the events, while Sif had come running to check she was unharmed. Then Alex was called into another room to give her own version of the afternoon, to a sheriff's scribe.

"You could not name your assailant?"

"No," she said. "I couldn't even really describe him."

"But the ravens could," Sif interrupted. "They saw it all."

"We're arranging for their testimony to be collected as well," the scribe answered. "I'm curious as to how the man escaped uninjured when the prince was present."

"I don't know if you could say he was completely uninjured—Loki gave him quite a whack."

"That's all?" Sif asked incredulously.

"Don't get me wrong, he was going to kill him, but I asked him not to."

"And he listened to you?" The scribe's tone was neutral, though he looked just as surprised as Sif. He took her nod as confirmation.

"What will happen to that man?"

"Don't worry," said Sif. "He'll be punished."

"Punished how? He was upset—they all were—and I can understand why."

"He attacked you with a blade, my lady," said the Scribe. "He'll likely be flogged, at least."

She winced. The Asgardian justice system was unknown to her but she suspected if flogging was an option, capital punishment was still in use too. "Can you make it known that I don't want that? Make him pay a fine or something. I didn't want Loki to harm him, and I don't want anyone else doing it either, even if it's part of an official process."

"My lady, this man must be seen to be punished—"

"You could make him pay for the care of the horse," Sif suggested.

"Yes, that would be perfect!"

The scribe nodded and noted the suggestion down. "Very well. Thank you for your time, my ladies. I must go find the ravens now."

She'd been assured the mare was doing well, with the blade only cutting her skin and not injuring the muscles or tendons beneath. Knowing that, she really didn't want the man to suffer too harsh a punishment. The villagers were justified in holding a grudge against Loki, at least, if they were expected to fight in the war. After seeing what the Chitauri had done to Manhattan, their homes didn't stand a chance if the invasion was successful, and they could all lose their lives or loved ones. Alex had to take a little responsibility for that, but Loki's lapsed pact with Thanos could bring all of Asgard to ruin. She'd already known how people felt about Loki, but either he didn't, or he'd thought himself safe from attack, and her by extension in his presence.

Her head hurt. She was beginning to enjoy herself in Loki's company again, but there would always be reminders of his reprehensible behaviour. She'd had more fun this morning than she'd had in…years. Since before she lost the test. Then, this afternoon, he'd been vulnerable, a state she'd never expected to witness him in. Parts of her best friend were beginning to re-emerge, but she still didn't know if it was enough to fix the way things were between them.

But he'd listened when she asked him to stop. That had to count for something.

The freedom of the morning had lit something inside her, rekindling her spirit. She was tired of emptiness and misery. She wanted to live, really live, again. She couldn't keep treating her time here as a limbo and letting it waste away, not when she was fighting so hard to get her mortality back and therefore limiting the time she did have.

Yes, she wanted to go home and see her family again. They would always be her anchor and she owed them so much time. But she'd feel too stifled if she were there for the rest of her life.

Loki had ruined normality for her, but she could no longer blame him for it. He hadn't done it deliberately. The question was, was it Loki himself she needed to feel this alive, or could she keep this spark burning without him?

Loki's day of freedom meant he was required to work twice as hard over the following days, and Alex didn't see him at all. Breakfast with Frigga was the closest she could get to anyone she knew, since they were all so busy.

"The way the servants are around me has changed again," she said on the second morning, while they were alone at the table. She still wasn't used to being waited on constantly, but Thor had proven to her that the palace staff were well paid and well treated. At first, they'd been polite but distant, then with Loki's return they'd become overly polite and cautious around her. Now, some of them had shown signs of being less frosty, but curious as well.

"Are you surprised?"

"What do you mean?"

"Word has spread wide about how you stayed Loki's hand, in the palace and beyond. It is my understanding people are astonished that my son will listen to you, even in a fit of rage."

Alex squirmed in her seat. "He doesn't always."

"As far as the people have seen, he listens to what you say. Loki was within his rights to hurt or kill the man who attacked you, and you were within your rights to ask it of him, and yet you chose leniency instead. Everyone knows it was you who asked for the man to be fined rather than flogged. We listened to your suggestion, despite the king's reticence. He's always believed a firm hand acts as a good deterrent. Instead, people are wondering if you are a moderating influence on Loki."

"I'm good PR?"

Frigga frowned at the unfamiliar term. "Your name in this realm has been associated with Loki's, and not in favourable terms. Now, your true character is becoming known and people are re-evaluating you. If you depart after the war, the fact you spared a life will be your legacy."

"Even if other people die because of me?"

"There is no blood on your hands here. This is of Thanos' making: we would have to keep him from taking the Tesseract wherever it was. Better Asgard than Midgard. While some people will still seek to lay blame at your door, if only because of your association with Loki, others will begin to think deeper. The mare is due to be returned to us tomorrow, entirely healed. No real harm has befallen anyone involved—I would say things have worked out well, wouldn't you?"

Alex didn't understand how they were tracking Thanos and his army, but somehow Loki and Heimdall had devised a way to lift the shield covering the invasion force. It only lasted for short periods of time and left Loki exhausted, yet Thor was quick to praise Loki for the assistance he was providing. No one kept her updated on the progress, but she knew the army was getting closer all the time. It was clear by the way the preparations moved even quicker. Rations were put in place, buildings reinforced, populations moved about to ensure no one was left undefended. It could be days, weeks or months, but Thanos was on his way.

Piercing his shield wasn't the only way Loki assisted, though he was rarely inclined to discuss the preparations with Alex.

"It's grim business. If my time with you is to be limited by such things, I do not wish to dwell on them when I can be with you."

She was used to eating dinner with Frigga's small entourage, unsure where Loki disappeared at mealtimes. He'd never been a big eater anyway. So when he flopped down at her side between soup and the entree one evening, it came as something of a surprise.

Flopped was exactly the word to describe the way he slumped into the chair. His gradual exhaustion had given way to pure weariness, and he didn't utter a word as Frigga motioned for soup to be brought over for him. The queen could clearly see how tired he was too—it was like he'd regressed back to his days in the hospital bed. Another servant was summoned over, and Frigga asked for Eir in hushed tones.

"Don't," Loki said, staring down at his bowl. "I'm not sick, merely in need of replenishment."

The set of Frigga's lips told Alex she disagreed but the servant was dismissed without further instruction. Loki didn't say another word, just ate as much as Alex had ever seen him consume in one sitting. He seemed oblivious to the conversation around him, with even Thor wise enough to leave him in peace. Luckily he acted as a buffer between his brother and Sif, who seemed to take offense at every noise Loki made. Alex did her best to distract Sif, hoping Loki wouldn't notice, or at least ignore, the glares being directed his way.

When all the plates were cleared and people only remained for conversation, he leaned over to Alex. "Will you accompany me? I'm afraid I may not be much company, but I would like yours all the same."

She fought the urge to flinch at the way everyone's heads swivelled towards them, drinking in how close he was to her. Ultimately, it was none of their business—no matter how much Sif sulked or Frigga smiled encouragingly.

"Of course," she whispered back, standing up and offering her arm so he could lean on her. He frowned at the need to, stubbornly keeping himself upright, but he couldn't resist curling his fingers around her elbow. She ignored the whispers that erupted as they left the dining hall.

When there was no one around to see, he did let her take some of his weight, though he was so much taller than her anything more would have been awkward. "Are we going anywhere in particular?"

"Just to my chambers," he replied.

"Normally I'd be worried you were luring me there under false pretences, but today I don't think I need to worry. Have you been tracking Thanos?"

"No. I've been in the weapons vault, adding additional protection to the cube. Being so close to it was draining."

"Tell me about it," she muttered, before biting down on her lip. Too late; he'd noticed her reaction.

"I do not follow."

"It doesn't matter. Are we nearly there? You seem to be getting heavier."

He stopped walking. "I hardly think it's fair that you can avoid speaking the truth to me when I am going against my very nature to be constantly honest with you. When have you been in the weapons vault?"

Even this momentary blast of anger failed to carry it's usual bite, his exhaustion was so extreme. Nevertheless, she knew he wouldn't go any further until she answered him properly—and he did have a point about honesty. "When you were gone, Odin took me down there to check the Tesseract was real."

"He wished to ensure I hadn't double-crossed you all?" She nodded. His expression said Odin's actions were understandable. "But you had a reaction to the cube, like you did when we used it to return here from Midgard."

"Worse."

He cursed, harsh Asgardian words she'd never heard him use before. "How dare he. He knew what it would it do to you. Time and again he shows himself to be crueler than those of us he condemns as wicked." He turned in the opposite direction, and she stopped him before he'd managed two steps.

"Where are you going?"

"Where do you think?"

"Not like this, you're not. You won't make it to the end of hallway before you collapse."

"What do you expect me to do? You are determined to flee from the harm you believe I may inflict on you, yet stop me at every turn when others seek to hurt you. The man who attacked you, the Allfather—their mistreatment you take without complaint! Why will you not allow me to protect you?"

"I don't need protecting!"

"I wish it were so, but it is not. If people know that to harm you will bring my wrath, they will think twice on it."

"I'm sure people already know that. Your father doesn't fear you, and he does what he has to. You going to yell at him and collapse in a stupor at his feet won't help anyone."

He shut his mouth so hard she heard his teeth clack together. "As you wish."

"Come on. Let's get you to bed." His only reaction was to mooch moodily in her wake. "See, that's how bad it is. I gave you the perfect opening and you missed it."

"Innuendo merely reminds me of what I am missing."

She sighed at his sour state and held out her arm so he could resume leaning against her. "Do you need to go back down there tomorrow?"

"No."

That was a relief. There was more to Loki's mood than just tiredness. He hadn't been this grouchy since they'd been on Earth. It was as if the cube affected his mood, but as far as she knew he'd never held it himself.

One idea occurred to her. "Where did the sceptre come from?" she asked. It'd been in his presence from the moment he came to take her from the helicarrier, giving off the same light as the Tesseract itself.

It took him a few moments to answer, all his energy seemingly focused on staying upright. "Down here," he murmured, pointing at an alcove in the wall. He staggered into it and the world shimmered as they passed through an illusion into another corridor on the other side. She was still gaping behind them as he spoke. "Thanos provided it. It was fashioned when he had contact with the cube in the past, built from its power and linked, which helped propel me to Midgard."

"Can you feel its presence when you're close by?"

"Yes." He stopped in front of a blank patch of wall, but she was less impressed this time when he grasped a handle that wasn't there a second before and swung the now-visible door inwards. "I doubt SHIELD knew enough to give you a history of the cube while you recuperated. However, we've had centuries of experience with it. We know not just its benefits, but the dangers it poses too."

"Dangers like it burrows into your head."

He stepped inside and ushered her in. She blinked in the gloom, before torches flickered to life along the walls. "Precisely. It offers you what you want, your strongest desires, but once that connection is forged it cannot be broken. Weakened by distance, yes, but the cube does not let go. I foolishly thought that the sceptre would not affect me in the same way, but I still feel an echo of its touch when I am close by."

Alex was only half paying attention to Loki's words, distracted by her surroundings. She'd never seen his chambers before, and the size of the room they stood in was astonishing. In the candlelight she couldn't even see all of it, the corners shrouded, but every inch she could see was covered in books. Wall to wall bookshelves, scarred desks piled high with old scrolls and leather-bound tomes, more piles on the floor—there might be more here than even in the archives. It even smelled like the archives, that delightful old parchment scent.

She wanted to explore, but he was swaying on his feet, eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to stay awake. "Through there?" she checked, indicating a door to their right. His mumbled confirmation had her tugging him along, through the threshold into his bedchamber.

The books had found their way in here too, though the bed was free of them. She was pretty sure beds only came that large on Earth if they were custom made. The sheets were still rumpled, so she didn't have to attempt pulling all that fur and silk back to get him in—she just let him fall to the edge where he half-sat, half-slumped against the pillows. She was surprised by the lack of his favourite colour scheme in the room. No green, no black, but gold and ivory instead. It was more welcoming than she'd expected.

She unbuckled his boots and set them aside. "I'm not undressing you, okay? You can do it yourself or sleep in your clothes."

He mumbled again, then stripped his tunic awake, tossing it to the floor. When his hands went to the laces on his breeches, she backed away.

"Going now. With my eyes closed."

"No, wait." He gathered the last of his effort and reached for a box on the cabinet beside the bed. It was much too big to be for jewellery, so she didn't feel the immediate need to run; she needed both hands to hold it, though it was light. It was carved from polished black wood, the hinges and clasp solid gold. "Look inside."

She cradled it on one arm and flipped the lid open, letting a squeal slip out when she saw its contents. "The glitter? When did you get this?"

"Always had it." He slid further back on the bed, burrowing his way under the covers, breeches forgotten about. "You were my friend. I kept things to remind me…even if you grew up to forget about me…I'd have them to help me remember someone…was my friend once."

He gave up fighting to stay awake then, and she was glad for it. He couldn't see her cry if he was asleep.

A/N: You may have noticed this chapter does not include any actual throwing, as the title may imply. It's named after a Fleetwood Mac song which I realised as I was writing it fits this story quite well, lyrically, especially the chorus. Even if you don't want to listen to the song, it's worth looking the words up.

There won't be as long a wait for the next chapter, which is already written. And a biggie.

Reviewers get teasers ;).