So... once again, as promised, Chapter Three. This came a bit earlier because my neighbourhood is carded for a scheduled blackout tomorrow. I had fun with this, trying to perfect the modest sibling rivalry. There's more of that to come, by the way. And most of all, I know, I had fun introducing a certain Bruce Banner. Enjoy.

CHAPTER THREE:

THE WALLFLOWER

"He's a wallflower. You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand."

Stephen Chbosky

MIDGARD

4:00 p.m.

"So… I don't suppose you want me to bore you with the history of this school," the red-haired girl said. But in essence, and Thor realized, it was stated with an undertone of a question.

"Did you practice something?" he asked kindly.

"Not exactly practice… Everyone here practically knows it by heart."

"By… heart?" Loki repeated, evidently confused.

Natasha looked at him curiously, as though she didn't know what to make of the statement. "You know… by heart. Like…"

"Never mind my brother. He likes making things difficult," Thor said, cutting in.

Loki raised his eyebrows, as Thor shot him a death glare.

"Go on. I don't think we'd mind at all. Besides, sometimes the most important things are those that we learn incidentally."

The dark-haired nodded discreetly to his elder, as though conceding to his unspoken request. To remain silent. But his words struck Loki to his core. Those were their father's words. Words… whispered during the heart of a war. Words that made sense when it came to perceiving the purpose of a battle.

Not to make a girl blush.

He bit down his gag reflex.

"So where to begin…?" Natasha said, more to herself than they. "Okay… follow me."

They trailed her through the door, and onto the grounds. The boys squinted in the afternoon sun, but their process of accommodation was quick.

"So…" she began, allowing them to keep abreast of her, as she took a cobbled path to their left. "This…." She motioned to the surroundings, "Is Eruditio High School."

"Eruditio?"

"It's Latin, like many things here. We're a small school. And if you are admitted, it's generally by special concession from the Director."

"How many?" Thor asked.

"About one hundred and fifty? It's hard to say. Sometimes, the older ones are transferred out. It's actually quite a random process. But it's strange…" And she smirked, ever so slightly.

"Strange how?"

"I don't know. It seems like everyone here has some talent. Whether they know it or not. Like… you know, Clint?"

"Yes. I acknowledge his presence on the planet." Loki flashed Thor a look, but his brother did not notice. Was that jealousy?

"Sometimes you both talk SO funny. But yes, Clint. He and I came in about the same time. And not with much. After a while, I got into Martial Arts… he chose Archery. And now we're the best in the school."

"These are… clubs here?" Thor asked, having seen the signup sheets on the class bulletin board.

"Yep. And eventually you and your brother would have to choose something."

"Let me guess. Because the Director demands it."

"Director Fury's vision is to create a school where we not only gain academic qualifications… but enter the world as well-rounded individuals with a drive to change the negatives of this planet."

She said it as though they were words embedded into their memories. And it elicited a small smile from Thor. Such a feat is impossible for you, isn't it brother? Loki said mentally. "In the middle of nowhere?" he asked Natasha.

"I think we all wonder that, when we first arrive." She laughed. "But I think that's the allure of this place. The fact that we're such a close-knit community."

"You live with your parents here?" Thor enquired.

A dark look crossed her eyes. "No I…" she shook her head, as though to clear a memory, "Not many people do here. We tend to be adopted children… Well, there IS one boy. But his father practically sponsors the entire town."

"Adopted? Really?" Thor asked.

"Yeah… but I…"

"That's so…" he rolled the words around on his tongue until settling on the right one. "Awesome."

"You sound weird saying that."

"My brother would sound weird saying almost anything," Loki said pointedly.

Both turned to watch him, and the dark-haired boy simply shrugged his shoulders, and pointed to the building to which they were headed. "That says bibliotheca?" Loki asked innocently.

Natasha seemed to withhold something, as she cleared her throat to answer him. But when she did, the tinge of a laugh was evident in her tone. "It means library. You'd notice, as I said before, that many of the words here are Latin. For a while, it was an elective in great demand, but we didn't have enough skilled teachers. So they decided we'd learn it… incidentally." She emphasized the word, looking at Thor with keen interest.

It was not lost on him.

"If it is all the same to you both," Loki said, cutting in, "I think I'd take your leave now."

"And where are you going brother?"

"To the library. There's someone of the name of Shakespeare with whom I wish to make my acquaintance."

"Shakespeare?" he heard Natasha ask his brother.

"Yes. Even at home, my brother often sought the company of those who couldn't deny him."

"Amusing, brother," Loki replied, sparing a glance behind. "If my memory fails me not, you were quite the opposite. With Lady Sif and all…"

And with that, Loki spun on his heels. But not before seeing the heat rise to Thor's cheeks. Or the girl… Natasha… look as though she'd just been back-handed with Gungnir.

MIDGARD

4:20 p.m.

The library was a two storey building. The underneath devoted solely for studying purposes- equipped with devices that Asgardians would use for manual data communications. Countless tables were spread out, chairs strewn haphazardly around, as though the actual work did not take place around the tables.

But Loki's visit did not call for studying, so he climbed the spiral staircase, vaguely aware as the air became colder. He turned the handle to the wooden door at the top… and gasped.

At the sheer wonder that he'd find a haven like this.

Bookshelves lined from one wall to the other, meticulously organized. It reminded him of the library they had in Asgard.

And it filled him with the breathtaking surprise that such a place could exist on Earth of all places.

He found the Literature on Shakespeare and picked the first book he laid his eyes on: Macbeth.

The only problem now was seating. It seemed that chairs were preferentially sent to the downstairs areas, leaving upstairs at a premium. He wondered the narrows aisles, wondering which nook he could occupy, until he found a small get-away, near a window, conveniently hidden away by a second set of shelving.

He took a seat, and folded his legs below him.

"You're in my seat," said a small voice next to him.

"I don't see your name inscribed on any surface," Loki replied, fixing a disparaging look at the small framed boy. He wore lenses… or glasses, as the humans called it… and his brown hair was almost as messy as Thor's.

"Actually…" the boy said, "It kinda is." He pointed a name scratched out of the plaster.

"Bruce Banner," the intruder read, "Must I comply?"

"Well… I'm not saying it's necessary. But it IS my place, and I'd like it back."

"Technically, you have just demanded it, mortal. But your courtesy amuses me. I'll go."

He gracefully lifted himself off the corner seat, with the poise that only a Prince could embody, and turned to find somewhere else.

"Wait…" Bruce called, "Are you reading Macbeth?"

"And what of it?"

"I don't know. I just thought it was rather morbid."

"I know this is against the statute of all readers. But what is it about?"

"A megalomaniac… who just kills for power: His best friend. The king. He dies in the end."

"That's concise," Loki sighed, the book falling to his side, "And thank you for spoiling it."

"Hey… you asked."

"That I did," and Loki smiled.

They looked at each other, not sure what to think, before the taller finally asked. "So what do you recommend?"

"I was waiting, actually…" He turned away from Loki for a brief second and quickly skimmed the shelf.

"I tend to be here a lot, so the librarian gives me special privileges… Like my own favourites shelf… Here." He said, handing two books to Loki.

The boy opened the first.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep.

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

"This is written in rhyme…" Loki pointed out.

"That it is," the boy replied, mocking Loki's accent, earning him a small scowl. "One of my personal faves: Robert Frost."

"And this one? Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone?"

"You were in my Home Room this morning. I thought… maybe you would enjoy it."

Loki blushed in spite of himself. "Much gratitude."

"You're welcome…" A pause, then, "Would you mind if I ask you something?"

"You've rendered me a great service. It is permitted."

"You said… this morning… that you were Loki of Asgard. Asgard is a real place, isn't it? But not on Earth."

"Why do you ask?"

"You speak funny. You're different… but more than everyone else. And I don't think you were trying to be funny."

"I wasn't," he replied in a small voice.

"So… what is it?"

"I'm sorry. But I cannot divulge."

"Cannot… or will not?"

Loki suddenly had a new-found respect for this boy. His eyes glowed with the excitement of new information. A look he knew only too well.

"You cannot tell anyone," Loki said in hushed tones.

"Sure. Everyone would believe the nerd who spends his time locked up in the library, reading everything that people find boring. Or inconsequential."

"Interesting. I would, though."

"That's because you are who you are."

"That scarcely seems relevant. I'm the God of…" He broke off.

"I was right, wasn't I?" Bruce said with nervous delight. "You ARE…"

"I am."

"So what are you doing here?"

A pause. "Trying to find my way back home."

Bruce's brown eyes met his blue ones. "So… how's that going, Loki of Asgard? Need some help?"