A/N: Loki shares with Thor and Ollerus what really happened between his fall from Bifrost and the Chitauri invasion on Earth. There are tie-ins with Guardians of the Galaxy featuring The Collector and his assistant Carina (I love these characters!). There also may be spoilers for GotG but mostly there's headcanon regarding Loki's involvement with The Collector and Thanos. You don't need to have seen GotG to get what's going on.

Ollerus's presence was the only thing keeping him from losing it. The boy was a calming breeze of innocence and optimism in a room stuffy with distrust and unanswered questions.

"What does that mean?" His son pointed to a pulsing image in the multilayered, mystical chart hovering over Sif's body. Its complex data was being sifted and manipulated by two pairs of hands, both old, wrinkled, and amazing at their craft.

"They're getting closer to finding a cure," Loki said softly, regretting that couldn't offer a better explanation. Eir and Odin were channeling magic beyond his understanding, and not for its complexity, but for its orientation. Light was like a foreign language, learned best through immersion rather than books, a culture that shunned him at the gates.

Ollerus looked at him with eyes warmed by compassion. The intuitive youth could sense the tension and all the unspoken grievances built between the time of Odin's awakening and now. "She's going to get better," he smiled.

Loki's return smile was forced. He hadn't the capacity for the genuine thing, not while he was depending on the being he despised the most to save one he loved. This was a torture beyond anything his flesh had ever endured, probably some sort of recompense for underestimating Angrboda, a being who was quickly overtaking Odin's place at the top of his hate list. At what point had the rug been pulled so cruelly from beneath his plan that he was to end up here, helpless, useless, and practically speechless since Odin caught him wrestling with Thor over some stupid Midgardian computer.

"See, I told you," Thor had said, snatching back his device. "It was our fighting that woke him up."

Loki had been too paralyzed by Odin's appearance to argue back. The events following all seemed to blur together in a stupefied dream, Thor pulling them off the floor, slathering the old badger with praise and gratitude, then guiding him into the healing chamber while he explained why they woke him up. At one point Odin had squeezed Loki's shoulder with an unspoken relief, but the moment was shortened, thankfully, as Eir descended up them and scanned Odin's state of health.

He watched from behind as the All-Father worked, noting the creases and folds in the regal armor where flesh once fit it. He had withered even more since Loki last saw him. According to Frigga's observations, he has been deteriorating ever since he used dark energy to send Thor to Midgard while the Bifrost was disabled. It showed in the thinning of his hair, the dullness of his beard, and the deeper set of his eyepatch. He was no longer the stout ruler of Loki's youth, but a shadow of a king ready to be succeeded.

Any other time, Odin's failing condition would be a pleasing sight, but not today, not when Loki needed him at full potential. Funny how tragedy had a way of shuffling the deck. No longer was the throne at the forefront of his mind. It had been crowded out by fear, grief, and regret. He couldn't decide what pain was more pressing: what he would do if he lost Sif or what was he going to tell Ollerus regardless of Sif's fate. To tell the truth would risk losing his son's love and Loki wasn't certain he could handle that on top of losing Sif. However, to lie would only perpetuate a detestable legacy that would stop with his parentage. Loki has lied enough to his own blood, from the empty promises made to Fenrir to the bargain he never intended to honor with Hela. Ollerus would not join the ranks of the deceived.

But how was he to tell him? When and where? Certainly not in the chaos of Sif's unknown fate. That would be a disaster. He had to wait for the right time, choose his moment appropriately, and in the meantime be as truthful as he could. Ollerus deserved no less.

Loki stood back from the healing table, one hand resting lightly on his son's shoulder while Thor stood vigilantly at Odin's side, monitoring him closely and steadily annoying the piss out of him.

"My son," Odin addressed Thor. "Since when have you known me to require a babysitter?" Thor tried to argue but Odin insisted that he and Eir be left to work alone for efficiency sake and suggested they show Ollerus the Hall of Yggdrasil. Loki made no resistance against that idea, trusting Sif's health under the elders' expert watch and grateful to have an excuse to leave the room. Just because he needed Odin's help didn't mean he wanted to hang around him.

Ollerus's eyes lit up as they journeyed through Gladsheim's grand corridors and echoing chambers. Thor played a sort of tour guide to lighten the mood and Ollerus was amused by the stand-in king's broken and debatable knowledge of his own damned palace. Thor kept glancing at Loki each time he knew he recited a fact wrong, expecting an argument or an attack at his intelligence, but Loki remained silent, having not the will to nitpick his brother anymore. At least not today.

They reached the towering archway that marked the entrance to Yggdrasil's chamber and Ollerus scurried ahead, enchanted by the light-bathed branches he could see in the distance. The massive hall housed a living avatar of Yggdrasil, a stunning metaphor of the realm-spanning arbor that connected the nine realms. Asgardians visited this chamber for multiple reasons, some seeking education, some enlightenment, others merely craving a moment to bask in the aura of calm found beneath her boughs. On some occasions, such as classroom outings, the tree would be illuminated with a projected map, drawing upon the branches the relative locations of each realm. Despite its inaccuracies Loki had always liked the drawn map. It reminded him of visiting this place as a child when he first set his plans in motion of exploration beyond the borders of Asgard.

A simple spell he taught himself long ago reproduced this very map and Ollerus's eyes widened, reflecting the magical-born lights that grew before him.

"Wow," he gawped. "Father, show me all of the places you have traveled. Are there any realms you haven't set foot on?"

"I have visited every realm known to Asgardian legend," Loki boasted. "I have even visited realms beyond the reach of the Bifrost."

"You mean even Heimdall doesn't know about them?" Ollerus asked.

"He is aware of these worlds," Thor added, uneasily. "But he cannot see them. That is why we believed Loki hadn't survived the fall from the Bifrost."

Thor was bringing this up because...?

"That explains why my history book is wrong." Ollerus turned to Loki. "What happened after you fell?"

Loki took a deep breath, glancing briefly at Thor, irritated. It's as if his brother knew of his vow to speak only the truth to Ollerus. "I was pulled into a rift," he began. "Because the Bifrost was crumbling, the portal that had opened to Jotunheim became unstable, therefore creating a wormhole. My body was at the mercy of warping spacetime. I was lucky not to be pulled apart and dispersed randomly throughout the universe. I might still be drifting, frozen, had she not pulled me in.

"She?" Thor questioned. "I don't recall the Chitauri having gender."

"It was not the Chitauri that found me."

"It wasn't?" Thor was perplexed. "How is it then you came to ally yourself with them?

"I made a bargain with ancient being called Taneleer Tivan, also known as The Collector."

"Yes, I know this man." Thor said. "He is in possession of the Aether thanks to you. Do you have any idea how difficult that was to explain to SHIELD?"

Loki laughed. "Lucky for all of us, the fate of the Aether wasn't decided by you. You would have handed it right over to them."

"What's SHIELD?" Ollerus chimed in before Thor could argue.

"Bad guys," Loki said.

"No," Thor countered. "Not entirely."

"Oh really?" challenged Loki. "Were they not intending to wipe out all of New York City?"

"That was a desperate measure," Thor said, pointing sternly at Loki. "A decision they wouldn't have been burdened with if you..." He trailed off.

Loki looked at him expectantly. "If I what?"

Thor backed down. "You wish me to elaborate in the company of your boy?"

"It's okay Uncle Thor," Ollerus said. "I know what happened. Father had to resort to desperate measures himself, in order to keep the real enemy from winning."

Thor shook his head, glancing between the two. "Already, you are stringing him along with your lies."

"I have not hidden the blood on my hands," Loki defended.

"I know about it." Ollerus nodded. "So, was SHIELD the enemy you pretended to ally with, Father?"

"No," Loki continued, pleased by his son's dismissal of Thor's concern. "My ally was a very powerful, very old, very mysterious being who's name I was never told. Even his lapdog kept a degree of anonymity by calling himself 'The Other.' Tivan knew their names, yet he never told me. He also failed to tell me of their brutality, but I suppose that made my act as their prisoner all the more convincing."

Thor and Ollerus could stare blankly, unable to put the pieces together.

Loki smiled. "Suppose I should start from the beginning."

Thor crossed his arms. "Yes, I suppose you should."

Floating in space was the first experience that helped teach Loki to appreciate his Jotun blood. He would have died without it. A lack of atmosphere is an intense brutality to any living organism but some can withstand it longer than others. Most Midgardian life wouldn't survive the initial pressure, death becoming them as they bled profusely from every orifice. Some might even get the thrill of explosion. The heartier types, specifically the bio-enhanced specimens—while not particularly enjoying the squeeze—would survive it just long enough to instead perish by suffocation. And then they'd explode. How Loki would adore watching the Hulk burst into hundreds of little green chunks. Asgardians could suffer through both the squeeze and the suffocation for a very undignified length of time which would reduce them to begging for a weaker constitution granting a quicker death. There is no valiant honor to be claimed while each internal organ bursts one at a time. Jotun anatomy, on the other hand, is impressively resilient. It can withstand the torture long enough for the cold to set in and comfortably numb the body into a familiar state of hibernation, much like the Midgardians cryogenic freezing technology.

That was the state Carina had found him in. He had no idea how long he had been frozen, but unfortunately, it hadn't been long enough to forget his last conversation with Odin, or the grip he relinquished on Gungir.

When he awoke he thought he was dreaming, or in the afterlife, for never before had he seen anything like the structures and technology surrounding him. It was like glimpsing into Midgard's astronomical future should their space travel be crafted by consumer preference rather than the military need. There was every comfort a being desired all ergonomically fitted into a compact and colorfully upholstered space, refreshment dispensers nestled between brilliantly lit panels containing all manner of buttons and dials. Oddly textured fabrics hung fashionably around the few portals, whose view was nothing but the speckled blackness of space. That was the first clue that made Loki realize he wasn't existing on a metaphysical plane. Space was his last memory after the fall.

"Tivan will like you," came a hospitable voice from behind, fully snapping Loki awake. "He's never had a creature that can change colors like that."

It was then Loki realized he was behind glass, confined to cylinder just tall enough to stand in. He peeled his face from the wall and locked eyes onto the woman rounding his prison, studying him like a specimen. He studied her back through his sharpening vision, surprised by the innocence of her appearance. Her skin was a sweet shade of pink, like she was a confectioner's creation come to life, and upon her face were ridges that could be mistaken for scars, much like the markings of the Jotun.

"Who are you?" Loki asked, his voice hoarse from the thawing. "Why am I in this cage?"

"My name is Carina." Her radiant eyes twinkled with fascination. She was holding an electronic tablet that scrolled with data, pulling her attention away from Loki for only brief moments. "I'm sorry I had to put you in this capsule—I prefer to call it a capsule—but we do that to all alien species collected. It's nothing personal. I just can't risk you contaminating the pod. That capsule creates a sustainable atmosphere for whatever living material is inside, all while decontaminating it of any biological hazards. Also, had our communication been blocked, it would have served as a translator until we supplemented you with an injection."

"An injection?" Loki didn't like the sound if that. "Of what?"

"A universal translator. But don't worry," she assured, sifting through data on her tablet. "You are not in need of one. Your kind appear to come equipped for intergalactic communication." She glanced up. "Where are you from?"

Loki stood on weakened legs, supporting himself against the glass. "Can't you tell from your little readouts?" He wasn't about to offer information for free.

"Usually," she said, tilting her head at the scrolling text. "But your bloodwork is peculiar. I can't pinpoint your species."

Loki ran his hand along the glass, gauging its integrity. "I'll tell you if you release me from this cell." His magic hadn't replenished enough from the freeze to break out on his own.

Carina giggled as if he'd just told her a joke. "I can't do that." She then stowed her tablet into her belt and paid him her full attention. "I am Krylorian. But I have never stepped foot on my world of origin. I couldn't even if he let me travel that far. It was destroyed by the Kree."

Loki narrowed his eyes, a dozen questions passing through his mind. Why was she telling him this? Who were the Krylorians, and the Kree? Who was this 'he' tethering her and, most importantly, what did any of this have to do with him?

"Your turn." She smiled, raising a brow. "I told you about myself now you owe me some information. Oh, and let's not forget I saved your life, which at least earns me your name."

So it was nothing more than a fair exchange. "Very well." Loki could play this game. "I am Steve Rogers of Earth."

"Liar." Carina's eyes lost their glimmer. "I know who Captain America is. I should only be so lucky to meet him, or any Terran for that matter." She then sighed, turning away. "It's okay. I understand your hesitation to share personal information. No one should be expected to trust their captor." Taking a seat in the tiny cockpit, she continued, distantly, her tone losing all sweetness. "Forgive me for my curiosity. It's not often I get to converse with others as civil as yourself. I merely wanted to know where your type comes from that I may one day visit it."

If sympathy fishing was Carina's method of interrogation then Loki was close to breaking. He was starting to pity her. She was either a gifted actress or a truly sad and lonely individual. Really, who desired the company of Midgardians?

They spoke no more until she announced their arrival at a place called Knowwhere, the severed head of a massive titan, the oddest of places to build a civilization yet strikingly familiar to the lore behind the creation of the gods. Fear should have been at the forefront of Loki's mind as his capsule was covered and moved through the city, but he couldn't help but be captivated by the sounds of bustling commerce, boiling cauldrons, and nightlife much like Asgard's undercity only backed with the roar of spacecrafts coming and going. He had never heard so many different sounds condensed into one place. The symphony then cut off abruptly as they entered what he assumed was the museum Carina mentioned, and he heard her discussing placement of his capsule with one who could only be her superior. Loki hadn't yet determined her standing with this being but it was obvious from his patronizing tone that her position was not a desirable one.

"Your services are no longer required here, Carina," the mysterious voice said as he approached the capsule. "Run along and finish cleaning the lab."

Once Carina was gone, Loki didn't hesitate to use what little magic he had restored to conjure a quick, short range special displacement spell. That cage was an insult to craft. He appeared across the room, ducking behind another glass prison that housed a rather unnerving carnivorous plant. He watched, intrigued, as the garishly garbed owner of this comprehensive collection flung the covering from Loki's capsule then made a sliding noise of amusement when discovering its emptiness.

"Asgardian," he called out without turning around.

Loki contemplated a means of escape yet found himself unable to follow through. There was something enticing about this being, some potentially lucrative alliance to be made. This was a man of power, wealth and influence, somebody Loki could deal with, so long as it was on his terms. To walk away would be a missed opportunity.

"Guess again." Loki emerged from behind the terrarium.

"Your magic is Asgardian." The wild-haired eccentric finally turned around, laying a lusting gaze upon him. "Your style is Asgardian." He crossed the room with a slow and hypnotizing stride, his cloak dusting the floor behind him. Loki couldn't look away, nor did he move when the being approached him, just breaching a comfortable distance. "Your tongue is Asgardian." He was taller than Loki but only because his boots had thick heels, a style leaning toward feminine, and his smell was indistinguishable but alluring, probably a fine alien musk. "Yet your blood is of Jotunheim."

Loki winced. He was still adjusting to this truth. "Your senses are keen."

"I will hear your story." This was not a request.

"My story has a price." Loki would not be intimidated.

"I am allowing you to live."

"You have no desire to kill me." Loki gestured to the prisons around them, specifically one housing a slumbering dark elf. "I am too valuable."

The man brought his fingers to his lower lip and fondled the small tattoo upon it. "Indeed you are." He deliberated, studying Loki's eyes, changing tactics. "I imagine you wish to know who I am as I wish to know more about you. A fair trade of information don't you think?" He held out his hand, the one that had touched his mouth.

Loki paused before responding, leaning back against the glass and crossing his arms. He couldn't appear too eager."Agreed." He took the man's hand but was not shaken in return. Instead the enchanter brought it to his lips, placing a kiss upon his knuckles, causing Loki's eyes to flutter awkwardly. He hadn't expected that. There was clearly much to learn of Knowwhere's customs.

"Let us begin," he released Loki's hand and swept his arm out dramatically to showcase his prided collection, "with a tour."