Coterie

By: Shadow Chaser

Disclaimer:

All Marvel characters do not belong to me, they belong to Marvel Entertainment and Marvel Comics. Liberties were taken with the Norse myths.

Story:

Chapter 13

He had been offered an earpiece to listen in on the operations that SHIELD had launched to retrieve Pepper Potts, Jane Foster, Dr. Selvig, Darcy Lewis, and Dr. Betty Ross, as well as to warn another one of Tony Stark's friends who also wore a metal suit of armor named Lt. Col. James Rhodes. All of the names except for Ross he was familiar with, having picked them from Barton's mind, and it was only Romanoff telling him that Dr. Ross was Dr. Banner's former lover that he learned a little more about how the doctor had closed himself off to his friends after he had acquired the green monster.

That earpiece had sat by the table next to his bed the whole time, and instead, he had taken Thor's tablet and had used it to look at the video footage as well as mission reports that had been loaded onto the piece of Midgardian technology. The access was limited and Loki did not feel like spelling the tablet to break into it and read up on the secretive files that apparently he needed a password to, but it provided a wealth of information that all but confirmed what nonsensical farce the others had written about the coterie, about himself, even of what had been witnessed on the battlefield.

"You up for walking?" Romanoff's voice followed by her head peering around the privacy curtains that had been drawn across his bed made him look up from what he had been reading to see her tapping her earpiece. "Thor and his group managed to capture Jormungandr apparently," she said and Loki blinked, surprised by the news.

"Capture?"

"Allowed himself to be caught, apparently. All they would say is that they're returning to the Helicarrier. The others should also be heading back soon. Coulson's reported that there was an attack on Cardiff, but they didn't get to apprehend Hel or whomever instigated the attack," Romanoff did not look disappointed, but rather stated everything in a matter-of-fact way.

"A return to this place is circular," Loki stated as he gingerly stepped off the bed and tested his weight. It seemed to hold and the dizziness that had assaulted him hours earlier after Thor and the rest of the Avengers left, seemed to have passed. It also turned out that when Sif and Volstagg had returned, they had also thought to bring him a change of clothing and Loki had a feeling that Queen Frigga was the one who picked out the clothing – being one of the two that could have gone past the wards within his bed chambers.

It had also heralded the return of Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff, both of whom had stomped into the medical ward with pinched looks upon their faces. Loki had immediately surmised that both Banner and the mortal medical doctor Streiten had not cleared them for the operation and it had left both a little angry. The same mortal doctor had finally told them that they would be able to participate by reporting to Director Fury before turning to him.

He had been cautious of the doctor when he had first approached before the doctor showed him a contraption that looked a lot like a sling that he, Thor, and the others usually used in the field to stabilize wounds before applying healing stones upon it. The doctor had explained that he had known about the excess use of healing stones, but told him that at least he would minimize movement with the sling upon him. And so with his tattered forearm bandaged and placed into the sling, Loki changed into a fresher set of clothing and perused the tablet Thor had left with him.

He caught Romanoff's grimace as she sighed, "Politics, also the others want you to make sure that it's really Jormungandr."

Loki immediately understood what she was implying. Perhaps Director Fury wanted to prosecute Jormungandr for himself, or even finish his part in the geas, but Thor or one of the warriors that was fighting with him clearly wanted Jormungandr to return to Asgard to face justice. "The magicks the Allfather used upon the chains and manacles were clearly designed to suppress all magicks. Any illusions cast upon him will disappear."

"I'll relay that," Romanoff pulled the privacy curtain aside as she touched her ear and walked away, leaving him alone.

He slowly walked to the entrance of the medical ward and received a nod from Dr. Streiten who was taking care of the patient he vaguely remembered as being Agent Ward. The agent only gave him an arched look, clearly still recovering as he lay on the bed, but Loki ignored it as he walked out.

As he made his way down the winding corridors, he saw numerous SHIELD personnel and agents all blinking or staring at him with some surprise before moving out of the way or shifting their looks elsewhere. He supposed that he looked like death warmed over, but could not help but smirk at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"Loki-whoa, you, uh, kind of look, uh, peaky...you okay?" Rogers' voice made him turn, thankfully not so fast to combat the brief bout of dizziness that swam across his eyes. He saw the soldier hurrying down the hall, dressed in his normal clothing, but with his shield in hand.

He only glared at the soldier and turned back around to walk when Rogers fell in step beside him. He could only roll his eyes in irritation as drawing his magicks to do anything to Rogers or even to escape being near him was out of the question. He already felt stronger, but did not want to tax his body to the limits by doing something so frivolous. As he continued his walk to the hanger bay, a sense of twisted amusement pulled the corners of his lips at how much SHIELD personnel now stared instead of moving away as they passed through. It was not everyday that one saw Captain America and Loki the Trickster God walk through the halls together.

They arrived at the hanger bay just as two quinjets were touching down, Romanoff already there waiting for them. She was not dressed in the looser clothing that Rogers was wearing, but rather was dressed in the skin-tight body armor that he was familiar with. Standing near her was Director Fury who only acknowledged their entrance with a quick look before the ramps descended upon the quinjets as a third one roared in for a landing.

Various SHIELD agents, dressed in body armor and holding weapons poured out of the quinjet followed by several civilians, some of whom Loki did not recognize, but he saw Jane Foster and Dr. Selvig amongst them. He glanced over at the other quinjet as the sound of metallic boots echoed on the ramp and saw the man of iron and another similarly outfitted metal armored figure walking down, the two talking amiably next to each other. Dr. Banner followed behind, almost shyly until he saw that a woman was following him. It was more than likely the Dr. Betty Ross that Banner had been reluctant to even mention until now. He watched as several more armed SHIELD agents exited the quinjet, some of whom sported injuries, others looking a little weary. Clearly more than a few skirmishes had happened while the teams were out.

He saw Director Fury move forward towards the quinjet that Dr. Selvig and Jane Foster had come out. At the same time, Thor and Hogun appeared from the inner confines of the quinjet, escorting a tall reed-thin man with a sharp angular jawline and prominent cheekbones. His eyes were the same light blue that Loki remembered, a trait shared with his older brother Fenrir. The two brother mages also shared similar dark hair, but Jormungandr's was darker. It seemed the healer had not bothered to change into the fashions of Midgard, having kept the same brown pants, and blue tunic upon himself as well as the faded brown leathers of the jacket that had been given as a gift. The red neckerchief tied around his neck completed the ensemble and for all intents and purposes, Jormungandr could have blended in with a peasant populace on one of the other worlds instead of Midgard.

The healer's mouth was sealed with the same muzzle that had been on him after he had surrendered to the Avengers a little over a year ago, but his eyes told a different story. Loki saw that they were downcast, defeated, very unlike Fenrir's whose eyes were chipped with defiance and anger.

He saw Fury stop Thor and Hogun, Agent Barton following the two with an arrow in his bow, ensuring that Jormungandr did nothing. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Sif, Faendral, and Volstagg exit the quinjet that Tony Stark and Dr. Banner had flown in. From his vantage point, he could see Fury making a few hand gestures, no doubt explaining his reasoning to why he wanted Jormungandr back on the Helicarrier. Perhaps it was both to get justice for the Midgardians and also to fulfill the geas contract enacted; after all if Jormungandr had been taken to Asgard, there would be no way for Fury to fulfill his end of the geas and therefore drop dead.

He saw both Sif and Faendral shoot looks at him as they joined in the conversation, both glaring at him and he only offered a smile in return at their annoyance. Jane Foster and her group had stopped, peering back as Thor conversed with Fury and Loki caught them turning their heads towards him – recoiling as they recognized him. He saw a frown on Foster's face, but she made no overt moves to show that she was scared or even shocked to see him like the others. She did however, place a hand on Dr. Selvig's arm, the man turning deathly pale at the sight of him.

There were a few more hand gestures by Fury until Thor nodded and Hogun stepped away from Jormungandr, allowing Fury to take his place. Fury placed a firm hand on Jormungandr's shoulder and started to march him towards Loki. Thor fell a half-step behind, not quite restraining Jormungandr, but allowing Fury to fulfill his part in the geas. He noted that almost all activity stopped in the hanger bay as many watched, but Loki did not really care for the audience. He knew that if it was another prisoner, someone other than a member of his coterie that Fury was directing towards him, he would have at least put on a show, but this was Jormungandr.

All he felt was nothing for what the healer had done. It was not emptiness, but rather he had closed himself off to any sort of emotion, whether it be anger, disappointment, betrayal, all of it.

"And here he is," Fury said as they stopped a hand and half away from him, "I think this fulfills our part of the geas, am I correct?"

"Certainly," he glanced over to see Thor with a frown on his face, but did not protest. At least the foolish oaf had the sense to realize that any words to what Fury was saying could nullify the completion of the geas.

"Do what you will with him, but if you plan on splattering the deck with his blood, please let me know first. Cleaning's a bitch," Fury said as he released Jormungandr and stepped back. A second later, he seemed to twitch a little and snorted softly, "That warm fuzzy feeling..."

"Geas contract completion," Loki supplemented as Jormungandr raised a silent eyebrow at him. Fury snorted again before taking another step back and Loki turned his attention to the healer who was staring at him with a sullen look.

"Loki-"

"If you dare interfere Thor, you will forfeit the geas even if it has been completed. By allowing Director Fury to give Jormungandr to me meant you renounced all claims upon which Jormungandr here is accused of by the Allfather. He is under my custody now," he pinned Thor in place with a pointed look and saw his brother's frown deepen.

"But-"

"I but only need one thing from him. Then you can do as you please," he countered and saw Thor shake his head in resignation before stepping back once more. He looked back at the healer who now had some wariness in his eyes.

"You think it's wise being so close to him? Could be a repeat of what happened with Fenrir," Romanoff muttered near him and Loki heard Rogers shifting his feet directly behind him, but he ignored them. The magicks used in the muzzle and chains hummed against Loki's own and he knew that it at least prevented a shapeshift from humanoid form to animal form. But to him, it still did not confirm whether or not it truly was Jormungandr. He was very sure that it was, but there was one other...test...if one wanted to call it, that he knew would be able to confirm it was the Midgard serpent.

"Your sentence could have been commuted," he started softly so that his words only carried to the young man before him. His form was Asgardian in looks and appearances, but Loki knew from the days of the coterie that it was only through their upbringing that both Fenrir and Jormungandr had such forms; similar to the skin he wore instead of the blue tones of a Frost Giant. The difference that marked them not Asgardian was their abilities to shapeshift naturally instead of invoking a spell or magicks. No one knew precisely what they were, but Loki had his own theories that he never voiced.

Jormungandr's glare spoke the silent thoughts, You put me here.

"You put yourself there, Jor," he saw the young man flinch at the usage of his nickname amongst the coterie. Vali had decided that Jormungandr was too much of a mouthful to pronounce during the early days of the coterie and had insisted he'd be called every name under the sun until Sigyn made the decision to call him Jor. "You, your brother, everyone you claimed to care for. It was most likely not your idea in the first place, but you provided the means," he continued, "and now here you are."

I do not care for such trivialities, the healer looked away from him.

"Do you know why you were spared?" Loki asked and saw those blue eyes whip back to stare at him, half-shocked, half-derisive before the serpent jangled his chains a little, mocking the fact that he was 'spared.'

Loki laughed lightly, a tight mirthless smile, "Because by some misguided heart that I once had, you apparently were not privy to the whole of the plan. So I spared you."

I do not believe you, liar, Jormungandr's eyes narrowed a little, it was guilt eating at you, Trickster. Guilt for killing kin and kith. Guilt for shedding the blood of the coterie when we sworn oaths to each other. You are oathbreaker.

"Of course I am the oathbreaker," Loki countered, his smile widening a little at the childish argument Jormungandr had thrown at him. "I am the Trickster God." He took a silent deep breath and moved his right arm so that it hovered in between them. While he and Jormungandr had been talking, he had gingerly unraveled the bandages from his injured arm after lifting it out of the sling. It had hurt, but he had refused to let it distract him as he talked and the Midgard serpent answered with his eyes.

"Do you like your handiwork?" this close to their faces, he could see through the gaping holes into the metallic floor of the hanger bay as he rotated it gently back and forth. Black ichor still dripped, but the blue-gold hues of the cure still battled it. He could feel beads of sweat popping out on his face at trying to hold back the waves of agony at the movement he was inflicting on his wound. The dizziness was also making it hard to concentrate, but he kept himself composed, in control.

It is a masterpiece, there was arrogance in the young healer's eyes as they flicked down to the arm and back up, but Loki also sensed the deeply hidden false bravado in them. I am pleased that Fenrir wounded you. It is a pity he could not tear your throat out and ravage you.

"A masterpiece of your making," Loki acknowledged, "perhaps it is also to be shared with its maker." He had not even finished speaking when he pulled the dagger-encased modular out from the spaces in between, ignoring the fiery rivets of pain that protested his abrupt movements with his right hand. Breaking the spell on the modular, he heard movement near him as he gripped the still-poisoned dagger in his injured hand and plunged it deep into Jormungandr's chest, right above his heart.

The reactions were immediate as out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Thor and the others move forward, to either stop him or to do something he did not care. He instead, stared at the Midgard serpent whose eyes had gone wide as soon as the poisoned dagger pierced him. Black lines raced up and down his already pale features, the poison doing its quick work as Loki kept his hand on the hilt, but suddenly the black lines were erased in shoot streaks of green.

The streaks raced across, just underneath Jormungandr's skin, searching for the cause and Loki braced himself as a split second later, the green streaks burst forth from the wound, engulfing the dagger, streaming up towards the hilt onto his hand- He nearly gasped at the suddenness of the powerful healing spell that slammed into his wound, roaring forth with the force of a thousand falling stars, howling their fury in a meteoric roar that was seemingly in his ears. White-hot pain engulfed his senses as it eradicated all traces of the poison. He nearly stumbled and lost his grip on the hilt of the dagger as, his muscles clenched and unclenched in an effort to try to process what was happening when just as suddenly, silence.

Loki blinked once, as if waking from a dream before he pulled the dagger out, Jormungandr's innate power immediately healing it as webs of green streaks seemingly sealed the wound as if it never happened, leaving only the tatters of ripped cloth and partially stained neckerchief. His right hand ached and he pulled back the sleeve, staring at now less of a gaping wound and more of the remnants of a fairly large animal bite mark. Blood still oozed from the wound due to his actions, but they were no longer dripping black ichor nor showing stark white bone.

"What the fuck just happened?" Director Fury had drawn his gun, but it was pointed to the ground and Loki looked up to see the leader of SHIELD staring at him with an unreadable gaze. "I thought-"

"The bindings do suppress Jormungandr's magicks, but he is not of Vanir or Asgardian mage blood. This was more...instinctive," he tapped the point of his dagger against the palm of his other hand.

"Loki..."

"The cure worked, but only to a certain extent," he looked at Thor who had taken several steps forward, Mjolnir in his hand, "and this has all but confirmed that you have captured Jormungandr. Only he would have the means to save himself from his own poison."

"Doesn't give you the right to stab an unarmed prisoner," he heard Stark mutter near them and ignored the man of iron's remarks. He did not understand nor did Loki expect him to.

"Tony..."

"Told you he's a psychopath," Stark responded to his fellow metal-armored friend's tone of resignation.

"You may do what you wish of him Thor. I have no further use for him," Loki said as he slid the dagger into his boot and turned around.

"Loki-"

He ignored whatever else Thor was about to say and headed back to the medical ward. Even though he had purged his body of the poison by proxy with Jormungandr's instinctive survival magicks, he knew that he still needed rest. Shock would soon be setting in as his own body compensated for the foreign magicks that he had taken from Jormungandr. It would be rectified with some rest as his body converted the foreign magicks into his own, but it was also a very tiring process.

The coterie had learned to share magicks with each other when they were learning from Death, one of the first lessons learned to ensure their survival from such a teacher. However, it was also something that they all knew was as dangerous as learning how to do it. There was a mental fortitude that had to be mastered before taking someone else's magicks into them – something many of Death's students could not handle. Those that did, more than likely ended up psychotic or brain-dead. Then there were the rare few who mastered a transfer only to fall prey to the next one. There was also the fact that it was a battle of wills to convert the foreign magicks within the body and it was something Loki needed solitude for. The medical ward with its privacy curtains and pretending to sleep was as good as any place.

He arrived in short order and immediately drew the curtains back around the bed as he laid upon it. Closing his eyes, he settled himself, retreating deep within and drew upon the strength of his magick and began the process.

When Loki next opened his eyes, the medical ward was quiet and glance at the Midgardian clock told him that it was the early hours of morning. He sat up, feeling a little stiff from the lack of movement. Glancing down at his right hand, he absently flexed it, feeling the pull of pain and muscles that were still not healed. He also noticed that someone had put fresh dressings upon his arm. The fact that he had not been disturbed since returning the poison to Jormungandr surprised him. But he supposed that perhaps Thor and the others thought him to have been exhausted by whatever he had done; after all he had used his injured arm to stab the dagger back into Jormungandr.

He absently rubbed his chest and stopped, a frown on his face. Rubbing one's chest was usually a sign that the conversion process had not finished and he closed his eyes briefly, delving deep within his core to find that he had only finished half of the process. His body was still weakened from the initial poisoning and from the wolf-bite that it was taking a long time to convert the magick. So what woke him up?

He cast his senses out, trying to feel if there was a portal or any magical signature around that was hostile. The patients in the medical ward were still sleeping, some of them under the influence of a hazy influence that he supposed was the 'drugs' that Dr. Banner and Streiten had talked about. Nothing immediate caught his attention, but there was seemingly something that did not seem right. He opened his eyes again and pursed his lips. He could easily return back to the place in between meditation and sleep to continue the process, but the quiet snore by his left side made him look over to see Thor sleeping on the rickety chair that he had occupied before.

Thor's presence by his bedside meant that he could not ignore what seemed wrong, not with Fenrir and Hel still unaccounted for. He saw Sif sleeping in a chair that had been pulled next to Romanoff's bedside on the right hand side and surmised that the two had been talking with each other. The Warriors Three themselves were not in the medical ward and Loki did not sense their presence nearby which more than likely meant they had returned to Asgard with Jormungandr.

He knew from experience that whenever Thor's life was in danger, the Warriors Three and Lady Sif would never leave his side, or if they did, they would not go very far. The only time they would not be by Thor's side was if they had apprehended the assassin or had left on Thor's orders.

He shook his head and swung his legs quietly across the bed and stood up. He considered setting an illusion, but decided against it. It would be a waste of magicks and he did not care if the others did not see him there. Slipping on his boots, he instead, muffled his footsteps with another spell and quickly left the medical ward. Outside in the main corridor of the Helicarrier, he cast his senses out, trying to pinpoint the source of the wrongness that he had felt. It was just barely hovering at the edges of his senses and he knew that if he was not so in tune with the magicks in his core due to the conversion process, he would have completely missed it.

He followed it as if it were a thread and soon arrived back at the hanger bay. Loki paused, straightening as he looked around the vast expanse where the quinjets still sat after landing earlier in the day. There was a near silence that was only drowned out by the roar of the Helicarrier's engines and howl of the wind at the edges of the hanger bay.

"Why am I not surprised," he muttered mostly to himself as he stepped out, wary of an ambush of sorts. The sense of wrong that had led him here seemingly congealed and collated like a blot of sorts on his senses. The source of it was here, he was sure of it. If only-

"Took you long enough to show your face," the voice spoke up from behind one of the quinjets.

A mirthless smile appeared on Loki's face as he saw Fenrir step out from the side, dressed in the simple uniform of a SHIELD agent – black bodysuit that also doubled as armor. "Your tactic of infiltration so soon after being discovered would have worked had I not been here, Fenrir."

"It was easy to dispose of one of the agents that came to support Agent Couslon and his team in Cardiff," Fenrir shrugged, his tone nonchalant, almost dismissive. "And yes, it would have succeeded, but that is not why I did it."

"Oh?" Loki stepped to the side as Fenrir waved his hand, dispelling the illusion of the SHIELD agent armor and instead, wore the simple tunic and robes of a traveler, the same ones he had worn when he had been handed down his punishment. Blue with golden edging and a brown homespun robe, Loki remembered that Fenrir liked the simplistic look, citing that it made for blending in with the populace on the realms a lot easier than standing out in the gaudiness of royal armor and clothing. It had been meant as a jest back when he had explained why he dressed like peasantry for the most part, but also was able to pull off royal attire when the need for it arose.

The mercenary wolf-assassin shook his head and smiled, "You still do not understand, after all this time?"

"What is there to understand?" he sidestepped as he kept his eyes on Fenrir. There was no doubt that Fenrir meant to lure him out here and Loki knew that he was still in a weakened state where the former assassin would have an advantage over him. The only saving grace was that he could clearly see burnt marks upon his clothes and persons; a sign that his injured wolf-form was not able to conceal. But how injured was Fenrir, he did not know. The security footage on Thor's tablet did not show much and Hel had clearly blocked the camera's access to Fenrir when she collected him.

Fenrir laughed, a sour sounding laugh, "There had been a plan, but why follow the orders of another when what you want the most is in front of you?"

Loki scoffed, shaking his head, "Still delusional and nothing but a rabid dog. Why not just take it? Take the revenge you so seek-"

The only warning Loki had was Fenrir disappearing before his eyes and he automatically drew out the dagger in his boot. He managed to parry the sudden blow of a sceptre as it crashed down on his head, Fenrir reappearing with a sadistic smile on his face. His chipped blue eyes were alight with madness.

Loki broke the parry with a feint and stepped back, dagger held up in a defensive position as he fired off a bolt of fire, Fenrir ducking underneath it before charging at him. He met the blade of the sceptre again and twisted, his coat whirl about him as he held his hand up, warding off a bolt of blue from the sceptre and took two steps back, his breath coming in rapid gasps as he straightened and glared at the mage.

"Do you recognize it?" Fenrir's smile stretched across his face as he gestured to the elongated sceptre he held in his right hand. It had an ornate golden body, befitting a king of Asgard. What crowned the bladed area was a blue gem that was unlike the power of the Tesseract itself. "A craftsmanship like no other-"

"You think you can bend my will to your own-"

"Oh, no, dear Loki, not with your contract with Thanos. No...I intend to cleave you in half with the very weapon you used against the Midgardians," Fenrir gripped the glaive into his hands and fired off several bolts. "It is quite silly of them to have left this on the Helicarrier all this time. A few spells and I was able to easily take it from their hapless...scientists."

Loki rolled to the side and blocked two of them with a hastily erected shield, before firing off several spells at Fenrir who easily blocked with a swipe of his arm. A second later, alarms began to blare across the hanger bay and lights flashed, bathing the two of them in a myriad of colors.

"Well now, we cannot have that happening," Fenrir waved his hand and an invisible wave of magick spread from him, and Loki resisted the urge to flinch as the wave passed harmlessly through him.

Instead, he wiped his brow, taking the moment to quickly assess his own being and noted to his dismay that his breath was coming in a little too fast. He forced himself to calm down, having not fought his coterie in a long time and an even longer time since he had sparred with Fenrir. The last time he had fought them, he had the advantage of surprise and the help of the Allfather. This time...it was only Fenrir and the Chitauri Tesseract powered weapon he held.

"You think it wise to divide your attention to a barrier spell to prevent the others from entering?" he asked as he switched his dagger to his left hand, his right aching from half-healed wounds. He could still feel Jormungandr's magicks coursing within him, a living writhing thing that clashed with his own core and knew that a protracted fight with Fenrir was not doing him any favors.

"You think it wise to fight with Jor's magick still unconverted within you?" Fenrir countered, "oh yes, I saw what you did to my brother. Though it pained me to see that, it was a necessary sacrifice."

"Jormungandr had it coming," Loki shrugged, watching as Fenrir lowered his arm, seemingly satisfied with whatever barrier spell he had put into place. He knew Thor and the others would have taken advantage of the fact that Fenrir was distracted by putting the barrier spell in place and attacked. But that was what separated him from Thor's nearly mindless hit-it-and-be-done-with approach to anything with magicks. A lifetime of experience told him that Fenrir wanted him to attack, wanted him to make the mistake and that was when he would strike. He ignored the subtle compulsion spell.

"I am not Thor," he felt the compulsion die away as he stared at Fenrir who only smiled and shrugged.

"And if you were, you would not have done what you had done to us," the wolf-mage replied before looking thoughtful, "though perhaps you would have reconsidered regicide after everything that has happened?"

"No," Loki was mildly surprised at how easy the negative fell from his lips as Fenrir stared at him, equally surprised at his answer.

"No? Not after your heritage, Frost Giant, Jotun, the monster whom all little Asgardians are told will steal them in the night if they disobey their parents' orders? After all of your efforts to be noticed failed and the Allfather cast you out-"

"I fell from the Bifrost-"

"Your file says you insist that you were thrown," Fenrir countered.

"Or thrown," Loki knew what he was getting at, what he wanted him to admit. While there was a very small part of him that wanted the plot of regicide to happen now that every secret had been laid bare, that part was miniscule compared to the consequences of regicide.

"Come now, old friend," Fenrir's tone became a little more congenial and Loki tensed, wary of another lighting fast attack, "surely you want to see the Allfather dead, Thor kneeling in fealty to you, triumphing over-"

"Why speak of goals so lofty if you cannot deliver them?" he interrupted, sensing something gathering in the air, something ancient and powerful. He could not pinpoint it and that worried him.

"I can...I did," Fenrir's blue eyes bore into him, the smile gone from his face as his voice dropped into a mere whisper, "I could have given you the throne of Asgard. I wanted to."

Loki fell silent as he realized what Fenrir was truly after. Fenrir had all but confirmed that there had been a plan, more than likely enacted by Hel and himself had agreed to it on the condition that his younger brother Jormungandr was also freed. Thor had been the target, but when Fenrir had finally confronted him in the hanger bay days ago, the sight of Loki's appearance from the portal had overridden the rationale to follow the plan. Fenrir must have abandoned it then and there and only sought revenge for what had happened to him and the coterie.

"We could have ruled, Loki," what he had taken for scoffing, sourness, congeniality he now recognized as a scorned madness in the shapeshifting mage's voice. Madness nurtured for hundreds of years of imprisonment, madness for the betrayal that Loki had caused to him. "You and I," Fenrir continued, "we could have ruled and no one would have opposed us. I would have protected you with my body and my soul, my life if you deemed it. We could have been as great as the magisters of old.

"But no, no, no, no, you threw it away! You threw it away because of one pissant of a brother that you could not live without! You threw it away because of Thor!" he suddenly snarled, his eyes widening with anger and madness, "Because you did not have the guts to do what was right, what was just! Thor and everyone like him would have never accepted us so you knew it was the right thing to do! You knew it! The spoiled Prince who decided that he wanted to be shunned because he could not stand to see his boorish brother, the same brother who does not and will never care one wit for him."

Loki could feel the churning of dangerous, powerful magicks and braced himself as he pricked the tip of one of his fingers with the dagger before sheathing it. He had no doubts that while Fenrir blocked all access to the hanger bay in order to fight him one-on-one, he was fully aware of the cameras that had to be tracking their every move. If there was one thing Fenrir loved, it was an audience to witness the result of his kills, even if no one saw him do the deed. Whether Fury or the others could hear their conversation was another story, but at this point Loki did not care.

"We could have ruled and we could have shown those hiding that there was nothing to fear. That magicks was not unnatural, that it was meant to be used, meant to protect the weak from the bullying strong. That we were as warriors as those who claimed that warriors would do without magick, that we were the same..." the mage continued, his breath shaking a little.

His eyes shone with unshed tears as a bubble of delirious laughter fell from his lips, "I loved you, my Prince. I loved you because you gave me a purpose, a sense of being that no one else had ever given to me and you threw it away!" Fenrir drew in a shaky breath as a single tear fell from his eyes, "Do you not remember the nights we shared? The secrets whispered, your wishes? I wanted to give them to you, because you cared. You accepted me when others shunned my brother and I."

"What...nothing to say?" Fenrir asked, his voice cracking with scorn as Loki slowly straightened, chin tilted up to stare down at his fellow mage.

He silently summoned the pocket of the spaces in between and took out the modular that contained Helblindi's gift. At the same time, his fingers brushed over the tessellation that had been used against Thanos on the Rainbow Bridge. Ambassador Ymir had said that it was proof of life that had flourished from the return of the Casket of Ancient Winters, but Loki was pretty sure that it was not exactly the truth. He did not know King Helblindi, having encountered him only four times, but based on the brief conversation they had after he had been revived by the Casket, he had a feeling that whatever was contained in the modular, it was something to aid him.

"What do you have back there? Hmm?" Fenrir's voice turned congenial once more before waving an absent hand at him, "no matter, it will not save you." He laughed lightly, "You should have followed that compulsion, Loki, it would have saved you a lot of pain in the long run. I am sorry for doing this."

It could have been easy for him to easily say, "No you are not," to Fenrir, but Loki knew that the other man wanted him to answer. Fenrir was not worth the effort, he had long decided. Just when he was about to make his move, he felt his breath left him as spikes of white-hot agony erupted across his injured arm. He gasped and involuntarily cradled his arm as the strength went out on his knees. The hum of magicks that had been slowly gathering, prickling at him, warning him, shrieked in his mind as he felt something seemingly claw its way out, an oozing unclean thing that hissed and boiled-

Loki gritted his teeth and refused to scream as he felt like his soul was being ripped apart, his magicks wavering, slipping in and out of his grasp... He pressed the droplet of blood that had welled on the tip of his fingers against the modular that held Helblindi's gift, hoping, praying to the Norns that it was not too late-

And with a brush of artic cold that lit a glowing blue against his face, he suddenly felt the cool hilt of metal form in his hand and reacted without thinking, whirling half on his knees to block the blow from the shadow-creature that been ripped from his very being. The howling hiss of inhuman animal grated on his ears as he successfully blocked the swipe of long dark claws that oozed with the black ichor of poison. It was translucently green in color and was seemingly pure magicks.

"Very good, my Prince," Fenrir seemingly whispered on the corners of his ears, goading him to attack behind him, but Loki was too used to the same tricks and instead, used the butt of the glaive that had formed in his hand to knock the assassin to the ground with a side swipe.

At the same time, he rolled to the side and stood up, blocking this way and that from swipes of angry claws. Blood magick was extremely dangerous and unstable, but highly effective when it came to certain spells. Fenrir had used it to drag out the unconverted remnants of his brother Jormungandr's magick within him, while he had used it as a mirror spell, against the modular that had been given to him. He had not had time to admire the glaive that now rested in his hands, having grown to its full length to save him from being skewered by a phantom-summom. But from what he could gather, it looked eerily similar to the Tesseract-based sceptre Fenrir wielded as he followed in wake of the shadow-creature's attacks, looking for an opportunity to strike.

He whirled, smashing the end of the glaive into the creature, driving it away with the force of his blow before splaying fingers out and shot off two destructive spells at Fenrir who blocked them into one of the quinjets, making it explode. His injured arm burned with the channeling of his magicks, but he shunted the pain away. Loki summoned a shield to block the flying debris, reinforcing it slightly as the hiss of flying metal came in contact with his shield as it dissolved. A second later, he thrust forward with his blade, the eerie blue-white glow of the stone set around the blade pulsating with the swirl of his power and fired.

The ancient howl of a thousand snowstorms roared forth as a smile involuntarily crept of his face, a jet of the destructive power of the Casket of Ancient Winters spewing forth. With the glaive as his focuser, he could feel the drain of magicks lessening upon himself. And combined with the stone of power fashioned from the Casket of Ancient Winters, he at least had a better chance at keeping Fenrir at bay than with just his dagger. He noted that his skin did not change color like it usually did whenever in contact with anything Jotun-related, as he swept the torrent of glacial ice in a spray. The remnants of the quinjet immediately cooled and turned to ice as did several parts of the hanger bay before he stopped it.

"Feeling more at home now?" Loki spun to his left at Fenrir's ghostly voice seeming in his right ear and blocked an overhead strike.

At the same time he kicked, his boot meeting the gut of the shadowy creature who howled and skittered away. He twisted his wrists, breaking the block and thrust forward with the butt of the glaive, slamming the end into Fenrir's chin and struck with the other end, meeting his blade once more. Loki fired off a blast of arctic magicks, but it just missed freezing Fenrir's head.

He tightened his grip on the blade, ignoring the creak of bones and further injury as Fenrir pressed on his strike. He suddenly twisted out of the way, rolling sideways, avoiding two bolts of blue that struck various parts of the hanger bay before pain exploded across his chest. He hissed and bowed slightly, ignoring the burn wound from the fire spell that had been shot at him. Burning flesh and pain were only a distraction as he lunged forward turning his wrist inward, turning aside Fenrir's blade as he sought to press his advantage. At the same time, he took another step towards him and unceremoniously swept the butt end of the glaive into the shapeshifter's knee, sending him crashing into the ground with a loud pained yell as his knee shattered from the force of his blow.

However, instead of taking advantage of Fenrir on the ground, he shortened his grip on the glaive and swung it high above his head. A split second later, halfway through the apex of his swing, he caught the animalistic pained howl of the shadowy creature as it had launched itself at him, trying to pin him from above. The blade bit deep into the creature as he sent it flying into another quinjet, punching a hole clear through it before sending a fireball straight at it followed by two dagger bolts with a wave of his hand. He was resolutely not staring at the whiteness of bone, bloodied red of muscles, nerves, and blood vessels as the healing magicks that had been within him courtesy of Jormungandr were now in the quinjet.

The resulting explosion ripped apart the quinjet and metal, liquid fuel, and metal bits flying into the air as a wall of fire surrounded the point of impact. He could hear the inhuman howls of the shadow creature as it was trapped within the fiendish fire and felt his arm and hand throb in response as he tried to tighten his grip on the glaive once more. Part of the magick that fueled the shadow-creature was also converted within him, but it was also the only way to contain the rogue magick that Fenrir had extracted from him. Technically it was still a part of him, but had enough of the blood-bond to Jormungandr that Fenrir had been able to turn it against him so that it only attacked him.

He turned and barely dodged a slash by Fenrir as he stumbled a little, his injured leg barely supporting him. A feral smile touched the corner of Loki's lips as he saw the shapeshifter glaring at him, angry that he had now a serious injury to contend with.

"Hurts, does it not, Loki?" Fenrir huffed a pained breath and he shrugged, still keeping his silence. He did not deserve an answer, not after everything. "You may have physically injured me, but remember, it is just a pain that can be magicked away. You will lose and I will have my revenge. You, operating at what, a quarter of your strength, half of that had been dedicated in converting Jor's magick, and the poison-"

Loki knew that Fenrir was trying to plan another attack while talking to distract him, make him pause, and instead, reacted, surging forward, willing his hand to keep it's proper grip on the glaive as he struck. He saw the assassin grin in response before shuffling awkwardly backwards, blocking his strike before retaliating with his own. He blocked that strike before the two traded blows back and forth, Fenrir quickly adapting to his injury even though he was clearly in pain.

He extended his arms forward, trying to smash the length of his glaive into Fenrir's, but the assassin dodged quickly and Loki turned the opposite way, slicing deep into-only to see the illusion dissolve as he cursed silently. He spun, wary for an attack as his instincts screamed – there! He barely blocked the skewering thrust, the Tesseract-powered blade cutting a shallow line into him-

Loki suddenly lost his grip on his own weapon as he felt the muscles spasm, contracting painfully at the same time he heard the dying howls of the shadow-creature that had been trapped within the fiendish fire. He belatedly realized that the creature had been ordered to commit suicide by throwing itself into the borders of the fire by Fenrir. At the same time, he stumbled and fell to the ground as Fenrir took advantage of his weakened state and disarmed him, throwing the glaive high into the air and to the side where it skittered to a stop by some debris.

Loki instinctively rolled, missing the gouging thrust where his head used to be and drew out his dagger as he stood up, holding his injured hand close to his side as it continued to spasm and twitch on its own. Fenrir was no where in sight-

He suddenly dropped the dagger and raised his uninjured arm towards his neck at the same time he felt the attack from behind. A flash of pain exploded across his left forearm before he instinctively tightened his muscles and pushed against the pressure that was forced on it, preventing himself from being choked, just so. At the same time, he could feel Fenrir pressing against his back, trying to break his neck with the length of the tesseract-powered sceptre, having used it as a staff instead of the bladed part.

A resounding thumping crash followed by the smell of ozone made the two of them look towards the sound and Loki saw one of the doors to the hanger bay starting to warp, crackling with bits of electricity. A trickle of relief filled him as he knew Thor was valiantly trying to get in, but he knew that Fenrir had him at an advantage.

"It is a wonder what you see in that fool, Loki," this close to Fenrir, he could feel his breath tickling the nape of his neck and into his ear, "what would bind him to you as a brother, the familial love that would drive you to betray us, betray me."

Loki choked a little as he fought against the metal of the sceptre, his breath coming in shallow gasps as his left arm creaked. There were definitely fractures to the bone, he could feel it as he tried to make his right arm work, to obey his commands. It spasmed against his side, flailing like a dead thing in its last throes of life as the howls of the shadow-creature dying in the fire resonated with his wound.

"He will never accept you for who you are. His claims of brotherhood, of familial sentiment and acceptance are false as he does not understand you like I did, like the rest of the coterie did. We were your brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, wives, and husbands. We were for you to command," Fenrir hissed and Loki could almost feel him biting his ear.

The resounding crack that echoed in the hanger bay was followed by the roar of Mjolnir and bolts of lightning that skittered across metal as Thor rushed in followed by the rest of the Avengers and Lady Sif. They skidded to a stop as Fenrir tightened his grip across the sceptre in a warning not to get close.

"Fenrir-"

"I really do not understand," Fenrir's voice was loud this close to Loki's ear as he talked to the others who pointed their weapons at them – or in Dr. Banner's case, started to take his glasses off to transform into the Hulk. To his dark amusement, only Agent Barton had an arrow pointed straight at his face. "Why-"

And that was when Loki snapped his fingers, releasing the spell as the tessellation did its perfect work once more. It fluttered to the ground like a leaf on the wind as Fenrir stumbled and pitched forward. The force of Fenrir trying to hold him into a choke hold became non-existent as he tried to straighten-

Loki stepped forward from the shadows behind Fenrir and immediately wrapped his uninjured forearm across the other's neck, his injured left hand digging into his hair. The muscle spasms twitched his hold a little as he heard, rather than saw, Fenrir's smile.

"For him, Loki?" the assassin knew he was trapped, but sounded so proud that he had been outwitted.

"No," he replied quietly and snapped Fenrir's neck, killing him instantly, before releasing his hold and let the body flop to the ground, "for me."

But before the others could say anything, he lifted his other hand and summoned the pair of magick suppressing manacles on Sif's belt using the twist of magick left in him.

"What-"

Thor never finished whatever he was going to say as Loki spun on his heel and snapped the manacles on Hel's wrists who had suddenly appeared by Fenrir's dead body. He could see the corners of her lips twitching in her approximation of a pleased smile underneath the light rose-colored ringlets of her hair. She was happy that he had anticipated her and he shook his head.

"You may escort Fenrir to your realm after the Allfather's judgment," he said quietly, trying to mask the utter exhaustion in his voice as it echoed in the near silent hanger bay.

"You are within your rights, my Prince," Hel replied, her voice monotone and cold. Nonetheless, she stood patiently as he left her side and reached down to pick the tessellation up from where it had fallen to the ground.

"Hey, isn't that what...Thanos...Infinity Gauntlet...on the Bridge?" he heard Stark whisper to Rogers as he turned his back on them and headed to where Fenrir had kicked the Casket of Ancient Winters-based glaive. He picked it up, hefting it slightly as he walked back, resisting the urge to use it as a cane to support the exhaustion that was now rolling waves over him.

"Loki-"

He ignored Thor's concern and worry that was evident all over his face, having lowered his hammer now that the threat had passed. He gestured to Hel who preceded him to where the Bifrost site was.

"You're not taking the Tesseract weapon?" Fury's voice made him pause and turn to see the sceptre lying near Fenrir's body.

"Consider it a gift," he replied before turning back around and walked to the site, allowing himself to finally use the glaive as a support mechanism as he stood next to Hel. "Heimdall, open the Bifrost," he called out before his vision was blinded by the screaming starlight.

Author's Notes:

Since I said I had a specific actor in mind for Fenrir (Alexander Vlahos), Jormungandr also has a specific actor in mind – namely Colin Morgan in his Merlin attire. Anyway, yes, Loki and Fenrir along with Loki and Sigyn were lovers in the past according to my story and yes, the actual Norse myths say differently. I really should write the backstory to this...hmm...may consider it, may just write an abbreviated summary of sorts. Eh...