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 15

"What the hell was that?!" Thor steeled himself not to wince at the harsh tone Tony Stark had adopted as soon as his friends had returned to the suite of rooms given to them for their stay. "I've had worst board meetings than having some pompous passive-aggressive bullshit – sorry Thor, your dad's an ass," Stark whirled and faced him before turning back around and started to pace around the room.

The rest of the Avengers filled into the room, all of them with quiet, stony looks on their faces. Thor opened his mouth before closing it as he saw Jane retreat into her room, the door closing loudly in wake of the silence that had fallen in the suite. The Lady Pepper Potts, to whom Thor knew was seeing Stark as well as running his company, only shook her head – at him or at Stark's pacing – before she too retreated to the room she shared with Stark. Lady Agent Romanoff was the only female left, as she stood near the entrance, her arms folded across her chest. He could not read her expression, but could inherently feel the disapproval radiating from her.

"You knew this was going to happen right? And don't give me that whole spiel about how we couldn't possibly understand what we had just witnessed – Thor we came up here for you! For us! To negotiate a treaty that clearly your Dad has no inclination of really following because, really?! Really?! That was just fucking torture!" Stark whirled around again and glared at him. His glare suddenly slid to the side as he held up a hand, "Steve, don't interrupt and don't you start Bruce."

"Stark-"

"No. No, if you say you're on his side, then-"

"Tony, we get it, just..." Banner cut him before either Rogers or Stark could get another word in, "Thor, you've been at the negotiations, you knew about this?"

It was taking all of his practiced calm, calm learned from years and years of having to deal with Loki, to not yell at Stark or to hit him with Mjolnir. It was not that he knew what was to happen, it was that they did not understand. He understood what Banner was trying to do, to give him a chance to explain, but at the same time started to realize that even if he did explain, his mortal friends would not understand – that it had to be done – that this was the lightest, yet harshest punishment that could be done in light of the charges brought against them. When Phase 2 weapons had been revealed because he had been the cause, he had told them that it was a signal that Midgard was ready for a higher form of war. That they were ready to take their rightful place amongst the nine realms and join in the politics that ruled it. Even though they had no centralized rulers, they had the strength and righteousness that would make them valuable allies to Asgard.

At least that was what he had thought and hoped for.

Now, Stark was slowly tearing that assumption apart and Thor loathed to admit that perhaps he had been a little hasty in his enthusiasm to have his friends join the Court and its politics. Loki was a far better judge than he and Thor wished he had sought his opinion before agreeing to Fury's request to bring the decision of Midgard's punishment to the Allfather during the initial negotiations.

"Don't say you regret bringing us up here," Fury spoke up quietly, staring at him with his lone eye and Thor shook his head.

"I do not," whatever Loki might have believed, he still could see the strength of his friends, even though their priorities were a bit skewed. "I...must thank you though, for making me realize the...barbarism-"

Stark snorted loudly.

"-of punishment that we had been inflicting upon those who would harm the realms. I...do not yet understand why you would allow many criminals to languish in the prisons, even though we too have our own, instead of executing them based on the severity of the crime, but..." He shook his head, grimacing, "Father's methods are...designed for a purpose. That was what I learned growing up, that everything he does has a purpose."

"I think we got the message," surprisingly it was Barton who had spoken up as he stood near Romanoff and the son of Coul, "he doesn't think we're ready. That Earth, Midgard, whatever, that we are not ready for the galactic politics and you know what, he's right."

"Hey-"

"But-"

"I sure as hell want nothing to do with someone who decides to let a mass murdered go free just because he's related to the one handing out the sentencing," Barton growled, his face darkening, "or someone who decides that the best way to deal with it is to rip their soul out and leave them a shell of who they were." Thor met the archer's dark stare, "Yeah, I'm talking about Loki and Jormungandr," His voice was rough with dragged out pain, but he kept himself tightly wounded, arms crossed, daring him to defy what he had said.

Thor knew that his friends would never see what he saw in Loki; what he had promised silently to do – to make sure that he would be there for him – would never understand the familial bond that held them together, that he was not willing to give up on him, that he had broken too many promises. But at the same time, he also knew that Barton would never forgive Loki for what he had done and what he had suffered while under the influence of the Chitauri sceptre.

"That's not for you to decide, Agent," Fury instead, reprimanded him with a look, as Barton shrugged and looked elsewhere. A gentle knock on the door that led into the suite made everyone stare at it before Agent Coulson opened it to see a young page standing at the threshold with a polite look on his face.

"Ambassadors, the Allfather bids me to remind you that there will be a feast tonight in honor of the mid-negotiations and of the sentencing of the traitors Jormungandr and Lady Hel," the page chirped and Thor saw the others blanch a little. Stark and even Rogers' mouth had dropped open as the faint "...What...?'"emerged from them.

He grimaced again as he realized that they were not used to the feasting after a battle or what was considered successful negotiations and were still trying to process how could a feast happen in light of what they had witnessed. There were surely going to be questions asked about how they had defeated Jormungandr, Fenrir, and Hel spoken at the feast – and he knew that they would be expected to relay a grandiose tale so that everyone at the feast would be able to add this to the exploits of the mortal Avengers from Midgard. It would increase their standings amongst the Court, but it would also prove that they were warriors and could hold their own – that they were ready for a higher form of war.

"Sir?" the page still looked expectant at Coulson's blank look before he smiled blandly back down.

"Of course, we will be there," Coulson said before shutting the door once more and turned back around. Thor recognized the look as one of calm control, that even the normally placid, unfazed agent was seething underneath at such a request. There was perhaps a time, not long ago, that Thor would have been confused as to why his friends would not have wanted to feast in wake of what happened today, but now, he understood. He understood and he could feel something ugly worm its way into his stomach, souring it. This was the politics that Loki loved to play, loved to manipulate and it felt disgusting.

"I...I-"

Suddenly the suite felt too suffocating, too foreign and too alien to Thor as he shook his head and brushed past Stark who had stopped pacing. "I am sorry, my friends. I...I will see you at the feast later," he mumbled as he opened the door and stepped out, closing it before anyone else could say a word.

Outside, he leaned against the nearby wall and breathed deeply. Loki had been right, he was a blind fool. He shook his head again as he pushed himself off of the wall and started to walk, no destination in mind – just anything to rid his mind of what had happened.

Loki felt oddly numb as he uncloaked himself from the shadows, stepping into his chambers. Jormungandr was still nestled in his hand, limp and almost unmoving save for the minutest of breath that passed through his snake form. He unceremoniously dumped the snake onto an empty spot on one of his workstations as he stopped by it. The small serpent gave a weak-sounding hiss before it curled back up, still obviously in pain and apparently exhausted. If anything, Jormungandr had shrunk a little in size since he had been forced into his serpentine form forever by Odin, but Loki did not care. No magicks had been involved in that, only Jor's natural shapeshifting abilities.

He let loose a deep breath as he stared at nothing in particular, wondering why he felt so numb and empty. Shaking his head, he ignored it and reached into the spaces in between and pulled out the tessellation that he had used to create an illusion of himself while he had fought Fenrir. Setting it on the workstation, he stared at it for a second, the memory coming unbidden to his mind.

"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 blinked as he heard a wheezing sound before realizing that it was he who was making that sound. He also realized that he had been clenching his jaw so tight that it was hurting; his hands curled into fists-

But this kiss...no, this searing fiery passionate kiss that he almost-leaned into, but just restrained himself so, this belonged to someone else. He could feel her within it, reflecting off of his own warming spell, seemingly burning his own lips up, the corners of his mouth, edges of skin about to crackle-

Sigyn was curled into him, in the afterglow of their lovemaking as he stared not quite past her sleeping form and into the darkness of the camp that they had set up. The warm summer-like breeze flowing from the valleys of Vanaheim dried the sweat from their skins. She had asked if he was happy and he had replied with a slight indifference that had made her laugh – sweet laughter that he loved. Truth be told, he had not been happy until now...until he knew.

It was as if a pressure that could not be contained suddenly burst and Loki lashed out with his hands, sending waves of destructive magick across his room, shattering books, tables, items.

"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."

It was the unexpected kisses that made Loki smile; always anticipating, always watching, waiting – Fenrir was clever when he wanted to be, to steal the kisses of the Asgardian Prince. He was also surprisingly gentle, though sometimes rough when the two of them were together.

A whirlwind blew around as he glared at the tomes and experiments scattered across his room, blasting them to pieces with bolts of destruction. He glared at nothing in particular and destroyed one of the chairs that he had accidentally kicked over. An angry yell emerged from his mouth as he gritted his teeth and hurled a fireball at his bed, sending feathers and burnt cloth into the air.

There was something broken in Jormungandr's expression, sullen, painful, a youthfulness that suddenly seized upon him as he stepped forward of his own accord. The Allfather's gaze rested upon him and he bit his lip – how could they?! They... He shook his head, tears, angry tears, painful tears, tears of the hurt of betrayal, pricking the corners of his eyes. "Please..." he was horrified at how weak he sounded, how rough and crackled his voice sounded in the audience of two in the throne room. "Please...spare them, Allfather."

Spare them? How could he have done such a thing?! He had been such a fool, an idiot, by sparing them, was still a fool now. Loki glared at the light fixtures and blasted them apart, scattering glass and sending them to the floor. He swiped his arm down angrily and ripped a mural in half, tearing it apart like it was nothing-

He reached over and grabbed several of the cups and plates that had been left for him ages ago and hurled them at the doors, at the walls, watching with some vindictive pleasure as they shattered, spoiled food dripping down the walls. He could see the blood that painted those walls in the throne room-

Angrboda's neck shattered like a twig.

He spotted a set of knives on a bookshelf and threw them hard, not caring that his aim was off and more than half clattered to the floor when he knew he had to skill to make it accurate.

Vali, stabbed twice in the heart, guts sliced open – his intestines spilled to the ground before he sliced his throat open and backstabbed him in the heart one last time for good measure. He stalked his way past the fallen mage's body, intent on hunting Narfi, the other brother.

The blood dripped a midnight red, painting the canvas of golden walls, columns, and floors like the flicking of a paint brush.

"...Loki..."

Loki whirled at the whisper of his name to see Thor, of all people, standing by the door to his chambers, his eyes wide as he took in the sheer destruction that had happened. It was also then that he realized he was heaving, almost gasping, his rage consuming him. His hands glowed, a reddish-black destructive magick that he had been wrecking havoc with for...was it a few minutes? Had it been hours? His eyes darted around as he took in the whirlwind of destruction that had been his chambers.

"Get out," he snarled, curling his hands into fists as he held them threateningly at his side. He was not in the mood for any type of conversation with Thor, no matter how he had gotten past the wards to his chambers.

"I...heard noises..."

"I do not care for what you heard you fool-born halfwit," he glared at Thor, watching as his expression closed up. Good, that would teach the idiot to not barge in-

He saw something seemingly break in Thor's expression before he took another step forward and Loki thought he was about to mollycoddle him until his brother spoke, voice low, almost a growl, "I have had it to here with you, Loki. Do not test my patience, not when you have no right-"

"Pardon?!" Loki interrupted, not believe what Thor was saying, "no right?! No-no right?! I have every right in the realms-"

"You gave that right up when you brought this upon yourself! When you brought them to the realms and you made them-"

"They were my friends! They were my family!"

"You have a family here!" Thor roared, but Loki would not back down as he snarled a denial to his words.

"I have no family! I am a Frost Giant! I am a monster!" he jabbed himself in the chest, feeling the age old pain rise up, the bile that threatened to overwhelm him as he fought back.

"We are not having this conversation again-"

"Then leave!"

"No!" Thor shouted back, unwilling to back down and Loki gritted his teeth.

"I am asking you politely-"

"You have never asked politely-" Thor snorted as something ugly appeared in his expression, something that looked like it had been bottled up for a long time, finally let loose, "go ahead then, fire one of those spells that you most likely killed your coterie with then! Kill me and leave my body here for the guards and for the Allfather to find like you had planned!"

"That was not my plan!" Loki only realized a second later that Thor knew and most importantly, he had heard what had been spoken between Fenrir and he in the hanger bay before he snapped his neck and killed him. "Do not place the blame upon me for what idiocy you had fallen into all those years ago. You put me in that position."

"I did not-"

"Yes you did," Loki shot back, feeling the anger and fury at what happened, what had happened previous flooding him. He seized it and held on for dear life, "You could have accepted them-"

"You know damn well who put you in that position," Thor cut him off roughly with a swipe of his hand, "you brought them in when clearly they were dangerous-"

"They were not dangerous when you gave them a chance-"

"Fenrir nearly killed you! He was a known assassin, wetworker, and clearly deranged enough to give you the throne-"

"I am a king!"

"The King of Lies!" Thor shot back and Loki huffed in annoyance.

"I should have let him kill you back then. Then you would not have been such a thorn-"

"What stopped you? Certainly not sentiment," Thor shook his head, his expression pinched, tone sarcastic, "no, because Loki Odinson is not with sentiment. He does not care for anyone except himself. He claims to have loved those who would have given him everything and throws them away. He decides to take things cherished by others in recompense for slights that are only that, mere slights. He uses and throws away everything that would cherish him – because they are of no use to him. He cannot claim to love and save because he does not understand."

There was something bitter in Thor's expression and Loki wanted to find a vicious pleasure in it, but all he felt was the hollow numbness filling him once more. He forced himself to smile frostily, "Very well said, Thor."

If he expected Thor to agree, it surprised him when his brother's expression twisted into a shattering angry look, "You, are a fool. It is you who is the fool-born halfwit for trying to believe and mold yourself into what was said."

"Excuse me?"

"You and your silver tongue, you could have stopped it, stopped...this," he gestured roughly to the room, "could have stopped what had happened..."

"Sympathy for Jormungandr?! For the one who could have killed you?! Who is more the fool?"

"He was a child! They were your friends! They were-"

"I was the one who planned it! I was the one who told them to poison you to get rid of you quicky before they killed the Allfather. I wanted the throne! It is mine!" he laughed, a shrill sound that sounded so broken in his ears, "is that what you came here to hear?! Is that what you wanted me to say?!"

"We both know that is not the truth-"

"The truth is subjective! The truth is what we want it to be! For all you know, I could have, still am, playing all of you for your sympathies! That I had planned all of this just so I can get rid of those in the failed attempt at the Nornforsaken throne!"

"No," Thor shook his head head rapidly, the anger still in his voice and expression, "I refuse to believe-" He crossed his arms across his chest, the ugly expression twisting further, "Then what was all of it for?!"

"All of it for? To be the rightful ruler of Asgard you dolt! The Chitauri, the sceptre, the attempted destruction of Jotunheim! You think I did not know what I was doing?!" Loki knew it was wrong, but he could not stop the words from pouring out of his mouth; could not stop the hurt, the pain, the agony of what had happened – the raw nerves that had been made even more raw with Jormungandr's punishment. The frayed edges that had him teetering on the brink of madness-

"Then it should have been you who faced his punishment! It should have been you!" as soon as the words left Thor's mouth, he immediately step back, eyes wide, unable to believe what he had just said. It was only then that he realized Thor was also suffering the same hurt and pain, thought different than his own – still similar enough that he recognized it.

But the damage had been done.

Loki could only stare at his brother, shock coursing through him, driving away the fury and anger in one blow as he barked out a disbelieving laugh. His magick disappeared from his hands as he said in a hollow tone, "So that is the truth, is it not?"

"Loki-"

Something inside of him shattered into tiny pieces as he grimaced and shook his head, "Too late to speak the words wish to hold true. Too late for empty truths and broken promises. The Allfather certainly showed that."

The quiet hiss from one of the half-destroyed tables in his room made the two of them fall silent. They looked back to see Jormungandr, sitting on top of the tessellation that had remained intact throughout the whole thing. The snake's eyes were opened and some of the pain had faded from its body language. Loki realized that Jormungandr was still able to sense the tiny drop of blood that contained whatever was left of his core and sought the tessellation as a refuge from the pain he had to have been feeling.

"...Your...tessellation..." Thor's tone had changed, and Loki knew that he was beginning to get an inkling of what had happened.

"Blood magick," he murmured almost carelessly, feeling emotionally exhausted as he turned and walked towards where Jormungandr was. The snake raised his head to look at him, tongue tasting the air, seemingly unafraid. That was the Jormungandr he remembered – fearless and brave.

"Blood...you...the snake's core..."

Loki lowered his gaze, the feeling of being stretched too thin, weighing heavily upon him. It had snapped the taunt wire that had been strung across the two of them for the past few days. He knelt down next to Jor and his tessellation, "Leave."

He could hear Thor shifting his feet behind him.

"...Please."

There was a moment of silence then Thor spoke up. "As you wish, brother," his voice was gentle once more, full of apology. Loki was half afraid he was going to say more, but the sound of the door to his chambers closing shut told him that Thor had done as he asked and left. He closed his eyes and shook his head – that was how Thor had gotten past his wards in the first place; he had not closed his doors.

Opening his eyes once more, he stared at Jor who had curled himself upon the tessellation, having decided that he was not going to do anything untowards his snake form. The coterie...what a fine mess and mistake they were. Jormungandr certainly deserved his punishment, that much was true, but ultimately, it was Thanos pulling the strings, even from the darkness deep within the Tesseract.

Thanos haunted him...

From what he knew, Hel was most likely the one who had freed Fenrir and Jormungandr from their prisons-

He blinked a little as an idea started to form. It was clear now, that he knew he needed allies when Thanos eventually broke free from his prison. The tesseract would banish him for a very long time, but Loki was pragmatically aware that Death was his lover and would consider him under her favor and potentially somehow free him with her power. He hoped to have the geas removed before Thanos ever got free, but it did not hurt to sow the seeds of those who owed him favors.

Picking the tessellation up, he unceremoniously dumped Jor onto the remnants of the table, the snake hissing once in annoyance, attempting to latch onto the tessellation by biting it, but Loki drew it out of his reach. He glared at the snake who hissed grumbles before settling down and buried his face underneath a coil to sleep.

Loki ignored the snake and stood up, activating the inherent magick imbedded within and created a double of himself as he slowly made his own body fade into the shadows of Heimdall's gaze. If all went well, then no one would be wiser until the middle of the feast that he knew the Allfather would be holding later in the evening. The anger and fury that had swept him up earlier burned once again, a smoldering ember that could never be put out – not with everything that had happened.

He still had plenty of tricks left to play.

Author's Notes:

Chapter inspired by the prison scene in Thor: The Dark World. Instead of having a relatively quiet talk between the two (like in the movie), they decided to lash out at each other, though both are not intentionally angry at each other – they do what siblings do, needle, and hurt each other in their anger at what's happened so far. Note, they are not also necessarily angry at the Allfather – its more complicated than that. One more chapter to go!

Side note: Jormungandr is a corn snake...that sometimes turns into a ball python in my head!canon.