There was very little that could pull Loki away from Sif's side. He didn't dare step away for trivial matters, risking her waking up with him gone. His heart wouldn't allow it. Staying vigilantly with her was the least he could do after getting her into this mess, he owed her at least that much. However, when the raven he had stationed at the observatory delivered the news of Odin's return without of the company of his sons, he felt compelled to address the matter personally and immediately.

"Why didn't you accompany them?" he said, arms held out questioningly, approaching the All-Father halfway up the Bifrost.

"You needn't worry," Odin said with only a brief glance. His steps were slow and labored. "The pair is more than capable of completing the task."

Loki watched the withered king pass, curious. "That isn't my concern." He then fell in step with him. "What if they draw attention to themselves? SHIELD would be on them in a heartbeat."

Odin kept his gaze forward. "I put a cloaking spell on them, masking even the heat their bodies radiate. They will be fine."

Loki wanted to believe that but it was difficult to trust Odin's waning judgment. The children were capable, yes, but they were restless and excitable (possibly mad in a Fenrir's case) and Loki knew from firsthand experience how easily a pair of wily youngsters could break the rules and get into trouble. They were a recipe for chaos. The All-Father should know this more than anyone.

"Heimdall is keeping a close watch," Odin added.

"Right," Loki forced a laugh. "Because that always kept Thor and I out of trouble."

Odin turned slightly, raising a brow. "A valid point." He faced forward again. "But my mind is still at ease. Ollerus does not strike me as one who will fail a mission, especially not when his mother's health is at stake."

"It is not Ollerus I worry about," Loki said. "Fenrir is unstable." Again, something Odin should be more than aware of.

"He was initially," Odin explained. "However he took to his brother almost instantly, and that helped to tame him, just as I hoped it would."

An unexpected warmth blossomed in Loki's chest, forcing his concerns to back down. He had hoped his sons would form a bond, he just hadn't dare expect it for fear of disappointment. "Did Fenrir threaten you?" he asked in a calmer voice.

"As expected."

"What other means did you use to tame him? You said Ollerus only helped."

"I said he could hunt me," Odin stated. "And I meant it."

Loki blinked, uncertain what to make of this. "Has your deteriorating condition made you suicidal?"

"Ha." Odin blurted, amused. "You would like that, wouldn't you." Loki opened his mouth to respond but Odin continued. "I said he could hunt me. That does not promise him a kill."

Studying the ancient being's distant gaze, Loki narrowed his eyes. It seemed he couldn't predict any of Odin's actions of late. "Why would you do that? You know what the prophecies say."

"The prophecies..." Odin shook his head. There was still laughter in his voice. "Fenrir will not be my demise. The prophecies are extinct. Wiped out by the human's lack of belief. With their advances in science came an infectious skepticism, one that is spreading into Asgard. Your own brother has even lost faith."

Well then, this too was unexpected. He knew Thor had developed doubts since mingling with humans, but since when did Odin question the very texts he contributed so much to? "I suppose Thor has his reasons," Loki said, playing down his surprise. "Dissolving away in Jormungand's belly is hardly a fate to aspire to."

"He does not eat Thor." Odin turned, brow knitted, a look that made Loki concerned again. "He poisons him, fatally. So they say." He shrugged. "So I said... Where do you get your information?"

"From dreams," Loki stated. "Same as you." Uneasiness crept into his voice as the amusement left Odin's. "Why would our visions be inconsistent?"

The All-Father slowed his pace. "Do you see what I mean?" he said, awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. "The prophecies are falling apart. They are starved of belief and have therefore lost their weight and reliability. When was the last time you had a vision consistent with those of your childhood?"

"I haven't." Loki was growing suspicious of Odin's sudden evasiveness. "Not since before...before the fall, but I thought that was only because I haven't slept properly since then."

Odin came to a stop and shifted his weight into Gungir. He finally met Loki's eyes. "Do you remember your last vision?"

"Of course I do," Loki stopped with him. "It was the same vision I always had. The one I would tell you about."

"You saw yourself on the throne."

Loki paused, trying to ignore a nagging déjàvu. He strained to recall the memory of his visions, the ones purposefully set to the back of his mind. They came slowly, through a haze of the last few years' chaos. "It's a seat of power," he began, "but it's not the throne I once interpreted it as. It is...not a throne at all." A disturbance rippled through his body, a warning that the past was repeating itself. He laid a hard gaze on Odin. "Why? Now what aren't you telling me?"

"It is of no consequence." Odin turned to continue down the Bifrost but Loki stepped into his path.

"How can you say that?" His heart began racing.

"Because the prophecies are nothing but myth." Even Odin could hear the weakness of his argument.

"It is of consequence to me." Loki's tone became harsher. "Please Father, if I am a part of your visions, you must tell me. You owe me that!"

Odin paused. "You called me Father."

"Do not make me regret it," Loki snapped.

Odin hung for another moment, still and unreadable, while dread and anticipation crept through Loki's thoughts. History was not repeating itself, it couldn't be. He wouldn't dare!

"I saw you," Odin began, shoulders sinking, "reunite with your children. I saw you and Heimdall battle each other to the death. I saw you wield great pillars of flame."

Loki's heart began pumping searing blood through a twisting gut.

"I saw you," Odin continued remorsefully, "and your children by Angrboda, allied with Surtr."

"No," Loki said, trembling, clinging feebly to one last hope. "Angrboda is Agent of Surtr, not me. She is the one at the helm of—" he cut himself off, a thought striking him that derailed his argument. "I haven't had this vision since before I learned of my lineage." His voice dropped to hover over a whisper. "I always assumed the stunted frost giant, eyes blazing red, ordering their children to attack...was her."

Odin stepped closer, placing his hand on Loki's shoulder. "My visions put you at the helm. But that was all they were. Visions."

Loki met his gaze with fogging vision, his chest pumping to keep up with his surging heart. "I am Bringer of Ragnarok..."

"You don't have to be." Leather creaked as Odin squeezed his shoulder. "Your destiny is what you make of it."

The tears broke as he knew they would and streamed down his face, but he didn't care. How many times has Odin seen him cry? How many times now has he invoked these tears by withholding detrimental information? "Did you know this about me when you took me from Jotunheim?"

"I did not," Odin said. He was telling the truth. "It wasn't until after your children were born that these visions came to me."

Loki turned, pulling out of Odin's grasp and drifting to the edge of the bridge. His mind was racing. History was repeating itself, yet this time...it was different. Much less disheartening, to his surprise. He gazed out over the city. The sunrise warmed the reaching spires, highlighting their glory, creating beacons of light.

"Now, it all makes sense," he whispered. His tears stopped, and his heart found another rhythm. Beneath his boots, the tips of which peaked over the long drop, the Bifrost's luminous spectrum danced wildly, spanning the rising mists. His heart swelled as he found a kinship in the monstrous waterfalls below: plummeting forever, unlimited in power, unquestionable in purpose.

"Loki," Odin said, moving cautiously towards him.

Loki turned to meet the old god's single, prophetic eye. "I am the Agent of Chaos." He then smiled, stretching wide his wetted cheeks. "And I'm really good at it."

"Do not entertain these thoughts," Odin warned.

"It is more than thought," Loki stated, convicted. "It is our shared prophecy. I am the God of Mischief."

Odin stepped closer. "You can use your strengths for good."

He laughed. "You know nothing of my strengths."

"I know you are a good father." Odin now stood with him at the edge, grasping his arm. "Something I never was."

Loki blinked. He had never seen Odin like this before: remorseful, frightened even. This encounter took a turn toward the amusing. He glanced down at the wrinkled hand on his arm. "Do you think I'm going to jump?"

Odin's eye saddened. "I don't know what to think."

"Of course you don't. You will not accept who I am." Loki's grin retreated.

"I said this before and I'll say it again." Odin looked desperate now. "You are my son. You always will be, no matter how you reference me, no matter the path you choose." He then motioned toward Gladshiem, sparking and regal in the distance. "Now walk with me back to our home."

"No." Loki pulled out of his father's hold. Their home now looked alien and unwelcoming. There was no place for him there, not even the throne. He couldn't go back. He could never go back. He would not let Sif wake up to this truth, nor would he subject Ollerus to it. They could no longer be entwined in his destiny, he would not risk that for them.

"Loki," Odin tried again, futilely.

Loki let one last tear fall. "I am your son you say, no matter the path I choose?"

Odin nodded once, his own eye glistening.

"I will hold you to that." He turned away. "Now leave me."

Musical Interlude: Mr Crowley by Ozzy Osbourne

Thor poked his head into the healing chamber, finding only Eir at Sif's bedside. "Have you seen Loki?" he asked.

Eir shook her head. Her eyes were sunken, tired. "Not since this morning when he asked me to watch over Sif. Is something the matter?"

"No, Elder. Nothing for you to worry about." He entered the room and approached Sif's side, taking the cold flesh of her hand into his. She was gaunt and pale, stilled by a tangible sorrow, a mere shadow of Thor's dear and feisty friend. "How is she?"

"It's peculiar," Eir began, adjusting Sif's pillow and tucking the fur blanket around her body. "I can't find the connection between her unconsciousness and the poison. I understand why she initially slipped into the coma, considering the blood loss and trauma to her body, but I expected her to wake up shortly after the transfusion. The poison hasn't spread into her neural system. There is no medical explanation why she is still asleep, rather a magical puzzle we have yet to solve."

"Strange," Thor said, scratching his beard. "Where is the magic coming from? Could it be Loki's curse on her hair?"

She took a deep breath, oddly hesitant to answer. Since when was Eir anything but forthright with pertinent information? What did she have to hide?

When Eir finally made to speak, she was interrupted by a flicker in the projected screen on the wall. It caught both of their attention. With a series of static and random flashes, the images of Sif's mapped anatomy morphed into a video of none other than Tony Stark in his Black Sabbath t-shirt, squinting and tracing his fingers over the screen.

"What magic is this?" Thor was caught between surprise and pleasure at seeing his comrade. Eir could only blink in confusion.

"I can hear him," Tony exclaimed. "Still no visuals. Jarvis, divert 30% more power to audio."

"Tony," Thor called out, approaching the screen. "How are you accomplishing this?"

"Technology I stole from SHIELD. I'd explain it to you if I felt like needlessly killing a half hour while you stare blankly at me. But I don't." Tony talked like a whirlwind, as always. "You can see me can't you?"

"I can indeed." Thor smiled. "It's good to see you, Tony."

"Wish I could say likewise but it's at least good to hear you. Can't expect transdimensional Skyping to run flawless in experimental stages. Anyhow, quick question." The screen distorted again, transitioning haphazardly to an infrared feed of an oversize wolf and a teenage boy. "Can you see this?"

"Yes," Thor said, excitedly, pleased to see his nephews were alright. He glanced at Eir who was also relieved.

"Good, at least that works," Tony said. "Do these things on-screen belong to you?"

"They do," Thor confirmed. "Is this a live feed?"

"No, this is footage from several hours ago. I would have contacted you sooner but, well, you're in space, and I had to invent a way to reach you. Fortunately that hammer of yours has an energy signature like an intergalactic spotlight."

"Tony, please." Thor didn't have the time for his friend's technical jargon right now. "What contact have you had with my nephews?"

"None. That's why I'm contacting you. They vanished from our surveillance of— ... Nephew?"

Oops. Thor should have cross-checked his words. "Ollerus is son of Lady Sif, who is like a sister to me."

"Sif... Sif," Tony searched his memory out loud.

"I believe some of your comrades refer to her as Xena."

"Yes. Of course, Xena. Wow! Never would have pegged her for a MILF."

"A what?" Thor was forever trying to translate Starkspeak.

"Forget it." He was already past that. "OK so, son of Xena. That's a good thing. Very noble. Good with a shield. Coulson described her, paraphrasing, as Cap with tits."

Eir's eyes widened, shooting daggers at the screen.

"Mind how you speak about her." Thor edged up his tone. "I am not the only Asgardian in the room."

"Oh yeah?" Tony had no remorse. "Who else is there?" Eir shook her head, not wanting any part of this. She was not amused.

"It doesn't matter." Thor shifted his glance between Eir and the screen, which still displayed Loki's sons, a fact Thor hoped didn't need to be revealed given Tony's opinion of Loki. "Get to your point. Why does Ollerus's relation to Lady Sif interest you?"

"Good bloodline for a prospective Avenger." Tony paused for effect. "Yes, you heard me correctly. We want to recruit him. Barton was impressed. Wants to take him under his wing. Ha! Hawkeye's wing. I just made a pun without even trying."

"This is..." Thor wasn't sure how to approach this. "This is good news." Which it truly was, but under different circumstances.

"You sure about that?" Tony questioned. "You words say one thing, your tone another. What aren't you telling me?"

"Ollerus is half-Jotun."

"Why should this concern me? Banner is half King Kong and the team still manages."

"My brother is of Jotunheim," Thor confessed, vaguely. He wished he could just come right out with it but...

"OK, fuck that." Tony was quick to piece it together. "The kid's not on board. No way."

"You cannot judge Ollerus by Loki's crimes," Thor defended.

"I can and I am." Tony didn't budge. "I don't need some punkass godling throwing me out a goddamned window the moment we have philosophical differences."

"He is a good lad," Thor pressed. "He takes after his mother in many ways."

"Terrific." Tony wasn't impressed. "So he has terrible judgement with his romantic life." He then sighed. "Unbelievable. I can't believe Loki knocked up Xena. I didn't even think he swung that way."

"I will not tell you again to mind how you reference The Lady Sif. She is gravely ill, lying before me as we speak in a coma. The reason we sent Loki's sons to Earth was to retrieve a plant that will heal her. Only they could accomplish the task"

There was pause on Tony's end. Was he actually feeling guilt? Probably not. "A plant?" he then said, curiously. "What kind of plant? Is there something I can do to hel—hold up...sons? Plural?"

"Fenrir, the wolf, is also child of Loki." Thor wished he could see Tony's reaction. It was probably amusing.

"How..." Tony's mind was surprisingly slowed by this one. "Never mind. I don't want to know."

"I thank you for offering your help, Tony, but it is not needed."

"I take it back. I do want to know. Is the wolf a shapeshifter?"

Thor sighed. "It is a long story. I will tell you another time. Perhaps when I return to a Earth."

"And when will that be, approximately? Been trying to, assemble a few things, but it's tough, yanno? Everyone's so emotional. I'm wondering if the Avengers Initiative should offer mental health coverage. Also, how much longer until the demon spawn beam back up to you? I've suddenly lost the desire to keep masking them from SHIELD."

"Heimdall will transport the children back to Asgard the moment they locate the plant. As for my return to Midgard...I wish I knew. My father is in no condition to take the throne back, and I can't exactly hand it over to my brother. At least not yet."

"I wasn't aware you had another brother."

Thor tugged at his beard, wondering how she should put this. As far as the Avengers knew, Loki had been killed by the dark elves, news that inspired celebration more than mourning among them. They were in the dark to the events of late. However, they needed to learn the truth, which included the fact that he was being considered for the throne.

"I was referring to Loki."

"Come again?" Tony was appropriately shocked.

Before Thor could answer, Fandral briefly stuck his head in the room, announcing, "The children have returned."

"Excellent," Thor said. He then turned back to the screen, pleased with Fandral's timing. "Tony, I must end our conversation. I will explain it all to you later."

"No wait!" Tony sounded desperate. "You don't drop a bomb like that then—

"Farewell, friend," Thor interrupted. "Please end your transmission. The healers can't have your disrupting presence while they prepare Sif's cure."

"Goddamned Asgardians," Tony griped. "Very well. But we will talk later. Stark out."