I am going to try and write what others before me have succeeded in writing—Loki being integrated into the Avengers' lives. I don't know how successful I'll be.
There is the barest hint of Frostiron in this chapter, but not much—it's only there if you squint, but there will be more in chapters to come.
Erika knocked softly on the door to what she hoped was Loki's room. She slowly opened it and peeked in when she got no response. Before she could blink, she was pulled into the room, the door was slammed shut, and Loki had her by the throat and raised her off the ground.
"Why do you mortals insist on bothering me," Loki growled. "First the Man of Iron, and now his petulant child."
Erika clawed at the hands on her throat and tried to yell for help, but he only squeezed harder.
"None of that," Loki cooed. "You came to me for a reason, and I don't see why we need to involve anyone else." He released her and she dropped to the ground, rubbing her throat.
"Two words," she gasped. "Impulse. Control."
Loki was unimpressed. "Say what you will, then leave me be—or I might change my mind about sparing your pathetic life."
"Gee, missed you too," she coughed, then stood up. She took a few deep breathes, then opened her mouth. "I want to know why you abandoned us."
Loki frowned. "Not this again—surely you don't still believe yourself to be one of my children." He smirked. "My children would tear you to pieces."
It was Erika's turn to smirk. "I've met them, actually, and they're not that bad—I don't see what all the fuss is about, really." She frowned. "I believe I've told you this, but you wouldn't listen."
"What use do I have of a child's whining?" Loki turned his back on her, signaling that they were done with the conversation.
Erika stood her ground. "I'm not giving up—I know the truth, and sooner or later you're going to undo whatever you did to my memories."
Loki spun around. "You dare speak to me like that?" He took a step towards her, and she tried her best not to take a step back. "I, who am a GOD among puny mortals? Insolent child, you would do well to leave now while I still allow it."
Erika gave him one last determined look, and then she left the room.
Once Erika left, Loki's legs wouldn't support his weight and he had to sit down. He combed his long, pale fingers through his untidy black hair and gave a shaky sigh.
'She's stubborn, just like her father,' he though.
It was pride and fear that kept Loki from speaking the truth—his own stubborn pride and the fear of what the Allfather would do should he discover this lost child of Loki's. The girl had magic in her—he could feel it, and he knew that she had no idea other than her self-proclaimed trips to visit her siblings. His concealing charms had faded, but she still remained hidden.
Loki wanted nothing more than to restore his little girl's memories and hold her close—hold her and never let her go. He also wished to restore Anthony (Tony—he hated being called Anthony, Loki remembered) Stark's memories, but it had been so long and he was sure the inventor wouldn't react kindly to the news that he had been love with a monster.
Loki didn't know what to do—he missed his family, and the harder he tried to forget the years he'd spent on Midgard, the more he remembered them. He remembered Tony's erratic behavior, his abnormal sleeping habits, his excessive drinking, all the time he spent in his own laboratory, building and experimenting, always trying new things. He remembered how Erika loved to watch sunrises when she could, how she had trouble sitting still when she had ideas and things that excited her (just like her father), how she'd insist on a bedtime story every night and loved to hear tales of Asgard.
Loki let out another shaky breath and straightened. Outcast or not, Tony and Erika would still be in danger if he restored their memories, so at that moment he vowed to himself that they would never be restored.
It was three months before anything changed.
For those first three months, Loki stayed in his room. Food was left outside his door, and empty plates were found later when someone went to go check on him. Thor was the one to take food to him, and he was the only one who ever tried to coax Loki out of his room. The crazy norse god didn't budge, though, but Thor never gave up. He did his best, and he even had a little help—Erika was bound and determined to get him out of that room, come Hel or high water (she never understood that expression, but it was all she could think of).
One the last day of the third month, Thor was successful—every morning, he had placed a mug of coffee in front of the door, and when he chose not to leave the precious liquid, the God of Chaos emerged only long enough to go to the kitchen, and demand a cup of coffee from Thor, and then he returned to his room.
It wasn't much, but progress was progress.
From that point on, Thor stopped bringing food to Loki and the god had to come and get it if he was hungry. Again, he only came out long enough to grab food.
After two weeks of this, Loki actually stayed in the kitchen long enough to eat. He ignored the others and everyone was fine with this—everyone except Thor.
"Brother, come and watch television with us!" Thor offered every night after dinner. Loki refused and returned to his room. The next day, the avengers were assembled to take care of Doombots, and when they returned to the tower they found Loki on the couch watching TV.
"Wow, Rock of Ages knows how to work a TV," Tony commented, smirking slightly.
"Contrary to your belief, Stark, I am not a complete imbecile—the television is simple enough to operate, after all."
Tony glanced at the TV again and realized something—not only had Loki managed to turn on the TV, he'd managed to turn on the DVD player, and he'd arranged a stack of movies by the TV.
"Geez, you learn fast," Tony muttered, and then went to his bar for a drink.
"I'll take that drink now," Loki called when the other Avengers had left, and it took Tony a moment to realize what Loki was talking about.
Erika left her room later that night to get a snack, and she paused when she came across the living room. Jurassic Park was playing, and it was on the part where the fat guy who turned off the security system got killed by a Dilophosaurus (the one that spits venom and has that frill thing on its neck). She knelt by the TV and looked through a stack of DVDs that had been put there—The Nightmare Before Christmas, The Sandlot, Mrs. Doubtfire, Hocus Pocus, Sister Act 2, Homeward Bound, We're Back! A Dinosaur Story . . . . . these were all movies Erika had loved as a little girl. She'd watched them with her parents over and over, and she'd had almost all of them memorized—it had been years since she'd seen any of them, though, so she decided to restart Jurassic park, since whoever had been watching it had fallen asleep—her dad, she realized as she went to sit down and had to move his legs. He was a heavy sleeper, though, and this movement didn't wake him up. She sat through the whole movie and was reminded of when it had first come out—they'd had promotional toys, and she'd gotten all of them. When the movie was over, she turned everything off and went back to bed.
She never noticed Loki in a chair in the corner, or that he'd been watching her the entire time.
Several months after he'd started participating in meals and group activities such as TV watching, Loki locked himself in his room again after one particular day.
It had started off well enough, with him and Tony watching cartoons. Out of all of them, he spent the most time with Tony.
Tony had fallen asleep and his head had somehow managed to land itself in Loki's lap. Loki, not even thinking about it, started sifting his fingers through Tony's hair, massaging the inventor's scalp with his long fingernails.
This is what he'd do when they'd—when Loki first came to Midgard. Tony would fall asleep, and Loki would play with his hair.
Once Loki realized what he was doing, he stopped.
"Why'd you stop?" Tony mumbled, eyes shut. "Felt good."
"Forgive me," Loki mumbled. "Old Habit."
Tony half-smiled, eyes still closed. "Funny—s'an old habit of someone I knew."
Loki didn't comment.
"You remind me of her, come to think of it," Tony continued, not bothering to move his head. "Sarcastic and snide, with one hell of a mean streak."
That was too much for the God; Loki shoved Tony away from him and ran to his room.
Tony sat on the floor, confused. "Wow, talk about mood swings," he muttered, and got back up on the couch.
Loki didn't come out for a week, and when he did he was just as cold as when he'd first emerged.
A/N: This is what happens when I try writing romance—I plan for it one way and the plot goes in the opposite direction.