Chapter 20: Eisenhardt and Börsson

ASTRAL PLANE

Erik looked up from his book and the most polite argument he had ever witnessed in his life, to search for the source of the strange sound he'd just heard. The lamp watched him for a moment, then started batting at the pages.

"Stop," he rested a hand on the kitten's scruff in warning.

The Lamp sneezed his disapproval. The sound returned again, a strange haunting hum. It almost sounded like music. Erik turned around to look and sure enough, something strange was happening outside the picture window. The world outside had faded, losing its substance, until now there was a mass of formless colors and lights dancing around each other. The humming got louder and reordered itself to become a woman's voice singing idly to herself.

"I still do not believe this is necessary," a familiar tenor said uncertainly.

The image outside whirled into a new form. A young blond woman, dressed in regal, medieval attire was perched on a gilded stool with an older, brunette Loki seated on the floor in front of her. She appeared to be playing with his long, reddish-brown curls while he constructed... something. All that Erik could be sure of regarding the device was that it was made of expensive - and in some parts, unfamiliar - elements, and that it was intricate.

"Your maid is still taking that leave you allowed her, despite my warnings," Frigga reminded the distracted engineer. "Hold still." She grabbed his head and steadied it by force. "Your brother wants you looking smart for this new Jötun dignitary."

"Mmmm," Lord Loki hummed, more focused on whatever he was constructing.

"Honestly. You can fix Thor's little toy later. You're only spoiling him."

"You do as well. He loves this- Ow!"

"Be still. You are almost as bad as Balder's serpent, wriggling about."

"I always thought myself more of a wolf," Lord Loki disagreed distractedly. "There." He set the last tiny, silver gear in place and the metal globe lit up in his hands. It opened up like a delicate metal rose to reveal four multi-colored holograms dancing acrobatically around each other. The glass in front of Erik flickered in and out of existence, then began to melt. Two of the tiny figures in Thor's toy globe locked in battle for a couple seconds only to settle and spin away from each other around the edge. The image on the other side of the warping window pane flickered out, and returned. Erik's brows knotted together in confusion.

Lord Loki smiled at his own handiwork. "You see? Good as new."

Erik poked the melting glass. It rippled like the disturbed surface of a pond. He reached out tentatively. His hand slipped through the warm fluid of the windowpane, and Frigga and Lord Loki vanished into blackness.

AVENGERS TOWER

Loki wandered into the communal kitchen and grabbed a bright red apple out of the fruit bowl, turning to lean against the counter as he took a bite. You manipulated my emotions when that machine attacked, he accused Charles.

Not intentionally. Loki, you're an empath. I am currently living inside your mind; it makes perfect sense that some of my emotions, especially strong emotions might bleed into your consciousness.

Jane smiled wanly at Loki, holding her hand up in a wordless greeting as she entered the kitchen.

And your offspring? Loki prompted, watching Jane search the refrigerator for hidden treasure. She pulled out a bag of something purple and grey with a grossed-out expression on her face. He shook his head at the mystery item, agreeing with her assessment. Tell me, Charles, will I be surprised by yet more potentially life-threatening, young rogues trying to blow my head off, or merely those who unwittingly draw more enemies to me?

Jane placed the suspicious item far in the back of the refrigerator with exessive care before resuming her search.

As far as I know, there're only those three. I have a larger extended family...

As far as you know. Who are you to these people anyway?

I'm Mummy, Charles confessed wryly.

Loki paused halfway to taking another bite of his apple. I was under the impression that you were a male.

I am. It's a misnomer. Francis was created in a lab using some of my DNA. I helped to raise the twins after their mother died in a fire. The twins have been calling me Mum ever since Pietro reached his early teens.

Why? Loki inquired, watching with mild curiosity while Jane began to cut up the random assortment of fresh vegetables that she had rescued from the ice box.

Honestly? I suspect that it bothered Erik, but the memories that I'm basing that on may not be entirely reliable.

I do not find that encouraging, Charles. How can you expect me to trust you with my innermost thoughts when you admit that your mind is not your own?

It is. As much as it can be. I'm telepathic; in a way, I am never truly alone, but I am in control of my faculties. Certain memories of mine are affected by various instances of time travel.

Loki's expression went flat and he set his half-eaten apple on the countertop beside him. Jane turned toward the sound and gave him a questioning glance.

I do not involve myself in such volatile matters, Loki thought to his suddenly unwanted companion. I shall find you a more suitable host.

No. You can't. I'm only in this time because you drew me here.

I may not have a reputation for avoiding trouble, Charles, but I do not abide the perils involved with manipulating time.

I know that Loki, and I am sorry, but you're already in trouble. I'm here to help you out of it. Our timelines are tangled. I came here to close the loop.

Loki stood up straighter, noticing Jane's discomfort with the way that he had frozen in place, staring unblinkingly at the cutting board. "What is it that you are preparing?" he inquired innocently, hoping to calm the woman's nerves.

"Oh, soup. If you want to help, you could grab a can of chicken stock out of that cupboard. It's a little hard for me to reach," Jane explained. Loki walked over and checked the specified cupboard. That one, Charles instructed, causing the correct container to glow in Loki's mind's eye.

"Here you are." Loki retrieved the item from the second-highest shelf and passed it to Jane without missing a beat, raising an eyebrow in response to her knowing look.

"You really have been here before, haven't you?" Jane observed. "You didn't even pause to study anything."

"Why does that interest you so?"

"Well. I can't speak for Tony, but I just... Thor thinks the idea is ridiculous. He said that you'd never have dared to travel this far from home without him, but really, it's obvious that you know more than you ever could if that was true."

"I did usually stay with him. My brother tends to forget that I continue to exist in his absence," Loki remarked.

"Is that why you're stealing his clothes now?" Jane teased, almost keeping the amusement out of her expression.

Loki looked down at the darkwash jeans jacket that he'd grabbed out of Thor's room earlier. "He shouldn't leave his things lying about if he doesn't want people to borrow them."

"Hmm. Cute. I hung that on his bedroom door for him this morning," Jane corrected.

"Because he left it lying about?" Loki hinted.

"I know that you must have your reasons for not trusting him, but I hope you at least give him a chance," Jane digressed back to the real issue, beginning to combine the ingredients of her impromptu soup while she spoke.

"You are the first person who hasn't tried to make that request on their own behalf," Loki noted approvingly.

Jane looked geniunely surprised. "Me? I'm nobody to you."

Loki let out a breath of laughter. "It would seem that you are the only one who truly accepts that."

Jane turned back to her soup, considering the idea. "Huh. I guess that makes sense."

Loki waited for her to elaborate.

"Everyone else here is a superhero. I'm the only one who isn't really important," Jane thought aloud. "They all have reputations to protect."

"You mean that they all have swollen heads," Loki corrected. "Do not diminish yourself, Dr. Foster. So far, you may yet prove to be one of the few interesting Midgardians."

"In the tower?" Jane clarified, blinking at the apparently contradictory expression on Loki's face. He did not deign to answer the question aloud, since Clint's arrival drew his attention away from her.

"Hey, what smells so- Do not let him touch the food," Clint warned, scowling at Loki.

"Please, don't be so thoughtless, Agent Barton. If I wanted to harm you, I would hardly need to rely on anything so unsophisticated as poison," Loki sneered, picking up his almost forgotten apple.

"I still don't trust you. Stay away from the food," Clint instructed.

Jane turned around to intercept the oncoming argument, just as the Trickster was about to state his no doubt biting reply. "Loki. It's okay, no big deal," she assured, shifting her calm chocolate gaze from Loki to the archer. "If he doesn't want soup, there's more food in the fridge."

Clint stared. Loki smirked, taking a bite of his apple, his eyes still locked with the assassin's. Then he visibly relaxed, returning his full attention to the level-headed cook with more genuine pleasantness than he had shown to anyone since Thor's fall. Clint watched him for another breath, then went to grab a beer out of the fridge.

"Pass me the Cayenne out of the spice cabinet, please. Thank you," Jane said preemptively, holding out her hand to Loki without looking up from the pot. Loki began to pass the item over but froze a few inches short of contact, his eyes going glassy. This time he even stopped breathing altogether as Charles' consciousness retreated so swiftly and unexpectedly that it gave him a feeling of psionic whiplash.

"Oh, crap," Clint observed and took another swig of his beer, waiting for the Trickster to reanimate. Jane turned to see what he was talking about right when Loki resumed. He placed the container down on the counter with a soft click.

"What is it?" Jane inquired, rescuing Loki's forgotten apple from being discarded in the sink. They really couldn't afford to waste real food like that.

"Peter has returned, and he is not alone," Loki replied, walking past the others out of the kitchen. Clint followed right behind him. When they got to the living room, Wanda abandoned the conversation that she'd been having with Sif and the Cap on the three-sided couch and walked up to hand Loki a pair of gloves. He paused to look askance at her while they waited for the elevator.

"Hey! Those were in my-" Behind her the Cap patted himself down to see if any more of his belongings were now missing.

"You'll need them in a minute," Wanda informed the amused god of chaos.

"Wanda..." Steve called suspiciously. "Where are my keys?"

Wanda smiled and tossed a set of keys to Clint as the elevator doors opened. "For you! Purple goes with red."

"Wanda!"

Loki grinned, slipping into the elevator behind Clint before he they could get caught up in the drama. Clint hit the 'doors close' button for safe measure.

"Any idea what that was supposed to mean?" Clint hazarded.

Loki shook his head.

"Whatever," Clint let it go, knowing that the answer would become clear to him in time. "JARVIS, alert the others that we're going to need back up..." He looked expectantly at Loki.

"In the lobby. Iron Man and Thor would be the most prudent choices, aside from the Witch," the Trickster instructed, pulling on Steve's stolen gloves.

"Yes, Sire. Ms. Maximoff has already enacted the necessary protocols."

"Ugh, do not call him 'Sire'," Clint protested.

"Thank you, JARVIS. You're right," Loki conceded, pausing just long enough for Hawkeye to turn a skeptical expression his way. "Your Grace, would be more accurate," Loki affirmed, enjoying the human's annoyance. "You would do best to avoid making eye contact with him." The lift doors opened and Loki stepped out before Clint could respond.

Agent Maxwell and Onslaught were dragging a deathly-pale young woman along between them through the deserted reception area. All three were dripping icewater and the mystery woman's thin, white medical gown had become somewhat see-through in the frozen rain.

"I said don' touch..." She murmured in a mildly slurred, accented voice.

"We're fine. We're almost there," Pietro assured her, strengthening his hold on her waist at the sight of Loki and Clint. Loki was already slipping his arms out of Thor's 'borrowed' jacket.

"No..." the girl fretted, shaking her head so that her long, brown-and-white hair fell over most of her face. Francis let her go without the slightest warning and Pietro had to scramble a bit in order to keep her from falling. He flinched when he almost touched the pale skin of her exposed arm. Loki heard the telltale click of Clint releasing the safety on his gun.

"Face down! Hands where I can see them," he ordered Onslaught, in nearly perfect synchronicity with the teen's movements.

"Yes. I know the drill," the bioweapon drawled, dispassionately.

"Please, beh-" the unidentified young woman began to urge him, pushing away from Peter, but she trailed off after taking the first shaky step forward.

"Marie?" Peter called, moving to grab her.

She pulled away again, then fainted. Loki swooped in to catch her, wrap her in Thor's jacket, and gracefully scoop her up into his arms in one fluid motion.

"Careful!" Peter warned.

"I won't touch her skin," Loki replied calmly, starting towards the lifts.

Peter looked like he wanted to follow him, but hesitated. He was too uncomfortable with the thought of leaving Francis unattended. The younger mutant looked from Loki waiting for the lift to the indecisive speedster.

"Go on, then."

Peter frowned and settled in to wait.

"I've got him," Clint prompted.

"No offence, Agent Barton, but I don't believe that's possible."

Clint opened his mouth to reply, then shut it and snapped his attention to the prisoner in question. Francis looked up at him with glowing blue eyes and grinned.

"Take cover!" Clint shouted, shoving Pietro away right before Francis transitioned and threw him into the wall behind the reception desk.

Loki straightened from where he'd crouched to shield Marie, and looked out at the dust-clouded room.

"Agents?" he asked speculatively. "Are you dead?"

Barton let out a groan from his place on the floor. There was a moment of tense silence broken by the lift chiming open.

"What the f-" Tony tried to ask, but Wanda placed a hand over his mouth.

"Pete?" she questioned.

Her twin let out a dry cough. "I'm not dead either," he clarified belatedly.

Wanda nodded and released Tony.

"Brother?" Thor queried suspiciously as Tony pushed past him to peek around the elevator door.

"I didn't do it," Loki defended, yanking Thor out of the lift and taking his place. "Take this," he passed the unconscious Marie into his perplexed brother's arms. "Also these." He slipped Steve's gloves onto Thor's slightly-too-large hands, and hit the 'doors close' button.

"Uh..." Tony reached out to push through the closing doors.

"Stay," Wanda corrected.

"Okay..." Tony surrendered. Loki smirked.

"I don't suppose that you intend to let us in on your little plan?" He asked, glancing back at the ingenious young mutant.

"I don't plan. He would know it if I did, anyway."

"Right. He's a telepath. Great! I should really proof my armor," Tony grumbled, pulling his faceplate down so that he could use the internal display.

"You should be okay," Wanda reassured him. "He'll go after Loki first."

"What-?" Loki sidestepped the sonic burst that Francis had emitted into the opening doors of the lift just in the nick of time.

"Nice warning," Tony stated sarcastically.

Wanda let out a giddy little giggle. "I wanted to see what he'd do."

Loki set his jaw, deciding not to bother correcting the madwoman's misstep, and slipped out of the elevator. He looked through the dark and extremely organized basement level for any sign of Charles' troublesome spawn. Francis was obviously lying in wait somewhere in the shadows.

"Francis? Let us discuss this. We are both reasonable men," Loki prevaricated, ignoring Wanda's dissenting snort. Or close enough, he amended internally, continuing forward until Tony stopped him with a pointed cough. "I assure you, there is little risk. I have come to you unarmed." Loki finished his scrutiny of their darkened surroundings and allowed the cyborg avenger to step up behind his left shoulder.

"Are you really sure you want to talk this out, Clarice?" Tony quipped.

Loki regarded the metallic hand gripping his shoulder with exaggerated disdain.

"Tell your mate to back off and I'll think about it," Francis' voice flowed out of the shadows ahead. Loki could feel the boy's influence brushing his mind, in hopes of clouding the location of its source, no doubt. In reality it did precisely the opposite.

Loki looked pointedly at Iron Man.

"No."

"Do not make this difficult," Loki snapped, starting forward a few steps, and turning to face the wincing inventor.

"He's totally planning to nab you," Tony pointed out.

"Do you think so?"

Francis swooped out of his hiding place and tackled- not Loki. The illusion disintegrated in a ripple of light.

"Nice." Tony grabbed Onslaught's arms as the smaller man was picking himself up off the floor, and pinned him against a stack of crates.

"You're not that good," Onslaught sneered and transitioned blowing the crates apart in the process.

"I thought of that as well," Loki remarked from where he was casually leaning against the wall by the lifts.

Francis paused to scrutinize this Loki more carefully before picking up a broken shard of steel siding and throwing it at him. It embedded itself in the plaster, surrounded by a golden aura. The mutant let out an aggravated sound and tried to kick Tony in the arc reactor before he could regain his footing. Tony caught his hand and tugged, knocking him onto his back.

"Is there any particular reason for this sudden concern for my well-being?" Loki continued conversationally, stepping around the pile of crates at Iron Man's back.

"Who says it's sudden?" Tony countered, aiming both his repulsors at the contrary teen on the floor in front of them.

Loki eyed him for a moment, keeping his expression neutral, then returned his attention to Francis. "You're behaving irrationally. Why?"

"What's it to you?"

"Personal interest."

"Really?" Both Tony and Francis asked with different levels of disbelief. Loki disregarded both.

"What's your motivation?"

"The same as it always is," Francis deflected.

"Yourself?" Stark provided.

"There's more to it," Loki pushed, crouching down so that they were almost on the same level, but not quite.

"Bad idea," Tony cautioned.

"I know what I am doing. Trust me."

"He's too good to rely on someone like you," Francis said smoothly. It wasn't 100% clear which of them he was insulting.

"Allow me to prove my worth." Loki looked up at Iron Man's mask and the moment he turned away, Francis jumped up. He transitioned only his right arm a mere foot away from Tony's arc reactor. Tony went flying into the darkened storage area with a loud crash. Francis grabbed Loki by the throat and shoved him onto the concrete floor.

"Gotcha!"

"For now."

Francis frowned. The lift dinged behind him, but when it opened, it appeared to be empty. Onslaught squinted distrustfully around them. "Wanda?" His eyes fluttered shut as he reached out to find her with his telepathy. Loki watched everything around them flicker and resolidify when Francis' eyes opened. Poker face.

Francis' expression twisted in disappointment nonetheless."Oh shit!"

Their muscles clenched up as the discharge from a long range taser danced over them, and Clint rippled into existence accompanied by Wanda's signature scarlet glow. Loki let out a subtle shudder, pushing Francis' unconscious form off of his chest.

"Did that hurt?" Clint asked facetiously. Loki decided it was best not to ruin the man's fun by revealing just how accustomed he was, as the younger sibling of the Thunderer, to that particular kind of pain.

"What took you so long?"

"Peter was possessed. He's hard to catch," Clint replied as if it were obvious.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," Wanda worried. "Who was he? If he wasn't him. He wasn't him." She indicated the unconscious telepath. "Do you know who was playing while Pete was out of his mind?" Wanda ran her hands through her hair. Her breathing was getting uneven as she descended into another bout of insanity. "Wasn't him. He was here with them, being nasty..."

"Wanda?" Clint tried, uncertain. He took a step towards her but she swiped at him with the hand not pulling her hair.

"Gah! She was going to scratch my face off," Clint assimilated watching her with an expression of shock mixed with betrayal.

"No! It doesn't make sense! Unknown variables... and subjects. It's not quantifiable," She started pacing around her corner muttering quietly to herself, oblivious.

"Do you know who it was?" Tony groaned out as he stumbled into view.

"We thought it was the kid," Clint offered.

Loki carefully crept over to the pacing young woman, feeling a strange and entirely unwelcome sense of deja vu. "Wanda." He sounded uncharacteristically gentle. Tony pushed up his faceplate to watch.

Wanda flitted around her corner, lost in her own head. "Mistake. Missing data. It's, it's important Wanda. We need to balance the equation..."

"Wanda, listen to me," Loki urged.

"All is well, my Dear. We are safe. Why not travel upstairs to decipher this riddle in a more comfortable setting?" Wanda advised in a comedically inaccurate imitation of Loki's foreign speech pattern. There was a beat of silence while they faced each other.

"Shall we?"

"He unbalanced the equation," Wanda stated flatly, turning away to resume pacing.

"Jesus Christ," Clint breathed, scrubbing a hand over his face. Loki gently grasped the augur's boney shoulders and turned her back around to face him.

"I have faith that you can figure this out. For now, we must travel." He leaned in to catch her eye.

"Rogue variables disrupt the calculation process. He's corrupting my data," Wanda fretted, leaning forward to more or less ram her forehead into Loki's collarbone in a rather violent almost-hug. He barely reacted other than to rest a comforting hand between her shoulder blades. This was all making him feel nostalgic for some moment, or perhaps someone, that remained only just out of reach of his conscious mind. It was a sad and haunting feeling. Loss.

"I understand," Loki accepted, hiding his inexplicable sorrow behind a more appropriate mask.

"False claim."

"You are right. I don't understand," Loki admitted. "You see: you remain ever perceptive. Shall we ascend, my Dear?"

Wanda blew out a loud huff and trudged over to the elevator.

"What the fuck just happened?" Clint wondered aloud. He had seen the pain in Loki's eyes before the Trickster could force it back down. It wasn't actually a side to Loki that Clint felt ready to handle.

"The R'uustai," Tony joked with false stoicism, draping Francis over his suited shoulder.

Clint slowly turned a flat look on his pop culture-obsessed companion.

"The Bonding," Tony added with the same serious face.

Clint shook his head and left him for the other elevator.

Tony let out a little sigh. "Nobody gets me."

ASTRAL PLANE

Charles stepped through the fluid pane to find himself standing on a massive, marble windowsill. He and Erik exchanged a tense look as the magnekinetic helped him down. He had no idea how they were going to get out of this mess. Not to mention why they were in this odd, unfamiliar version of Asgard now instead of watching events unfold from their sanctuary. Lord Loki rushed past the door, fastening the clasp at his collarbone. His wet hair had been pulled back in a neat French braid and his robes were much more ornate. It was obviously some important occasion. Charles and Erik chased after him. Lord Loki rushed out into the massive hall that stood on one end of the rainbow bridge, facing the Bifrost. It was lined on either side with massive gold pillars opening out on a breathtaking view of the city. Gilded firepits burned between every other column, draped with either burgundy or blue silk, and the knights or courtiers present were all decked out in their finest attire.

"They really do share a remarkable likeness," Erik noted, studying Thor's uncle and Loki's namesake with interest. "Are you sure they aren't related?"

"I'm not sure of anything when it comes to this family," Charles admitted, leading Erik through the crowd in order to get a better view. "Relax. It's a memory. We're invisible to them."

Lord Loki slid with practiced grace into his place on Odin's left side just before the rainbowlight flashed overhead. Odin sighed and shook his golden head with fond annoyance. The scarred warrior on Odin's other side gave Lord Loki a warning look, but hid it before Odin could see.

"I would have thought you would be on time for this occasion, my Brother," Odin said quietly.

"I was," Lord Loki replied, then conceded to his sibling's silent challenge. "Near enough."

"At least you have deigned to attend this time."

"You want to do this now?"

Erik looked askance at Charles.

"He keeps avoiding War Council meetings," Charles hastily explained.

"I want you to behave in a manner befitting your station," Odin corrected, then slapped Loki's arm to stop him from talking back. The Jötun convoy was approaching.

"Good eve, Ambassador..." Odin let the title hang, giving the other man an opening to identify himself.

"The same to you, General Odin, I trust that everything has been arranged for our peace talks," the Ambassador responded, climbing down from his great white horse.

"I assure you, Ambassador, we have honoured our word," Odin said, with a hint of irritation sneaking into his tone. "We have called this ceasefire in good faith. No blood shall be spilt in these halls as no deceit shall be woven in our chambers."

"Of course," the Ambassador agreed with a bland smile, reaching out to clasp forearms in a show of political solidarity. Lord Loki slipped between them accepting the gesture in his brother's place.

"Naturally. As you said. We are all joined in a mutual pursuit of peace, are we not?" He flashed them a disarming grin. Behind him Odin narrowed his eyes at the older royal's behaviour. The warrior on his right was already resting a hand on his sword, ready to jump into action.

The Ambassador moved to release his grip on Lord Loki's arm but the smaller man held him fast.

"You know, I do believe you and I have met once before. I am quite fond of your realm; at times I enjoy a brief visit. Was it a feast?"

"I cannot recall."

"You are right. It was no feast. That would make little sense," Lord Loki pondered in the same conversational tone as before, despite his captive's souring mood. "I can recall your name, though. You have ascended rather quickly Commander Geirröd."

Commander Geirröd let out a roar and the hall erupted with the sound of clashing metal. Lord Loki ducked away from him while Odin and the warrior at his side both reacted in unison, the latter pushing ahead to slash at the imposter with his sword. Geirröd went for his own concealed weapon and frowned.

"Looking for these?" Lord Loki called, holding up three viscious-looking bladed weapons. He then kicked over the firepit in front of him so that the invaders closing in on him scrambled to avoid the near fluid flames instead of attacking. Charles noted that he had timed it and aimed the flow so that the fire would have the lowest likelihood of being lethal. This Loki seemed intensely averse to violence in general. He ducked another jötun's club and used two of his stolen weapons to pin the soldier's arm and shoulder to the far wall.

Commander Geirröd in the meantime, had managed to fight himself free of the two soldiers penning him in and was now using a stolen axe to fight Odin one on one. It was plainly obvious that killing the General was his mission and Odin was doing his best to keep him at arm's length. His men were focused on creating a buffer between the two. It seems that no one but Charles and Erik realized what was coming next.

Geirröd was gradually herded closer to Lord Loki's perch between the pillars. He aimed his axe at Odin, but Lord Loki noticed and lunged forward to stop him. Geirröd chuckled, shifting the axe in his grip so that it hooked around Lord Loki's neck and forced his face over the nearest fire pit.

Odin went still. "Halt!" he ordered, his eyes locked on Geirröd's.

"Please," Lord Loki choked out, pulling away from the flames as much as he could. His pale skin was already beginning to darken and steam.

"That is enough Geiröd. My brother has no quarrel with your people."

"Ah, but halfblood or not he is your kin."

"Ahhh, please! Odin?" Loki cried out as tears began to streak down his trembling cheeks.

"Whatever your mission here. Your master will wish Lord Loki no harm," Odin ground out. "Release him!"

"As you wish," Geirröd agreed, pulling the gasping Lord Loki back out of the reaching flames.

"Th-thankyou," Lord Loki breathed, looking understandably surprised.

"Don't thank me yet, Bastard," Geirröd corrected with a nasty smirk and swung him back around with inhuman force. Erik reflexively reached out but his arm went straight through Lord Loki. His back smashed right through the bowl of the firepit and his flaming form flew over the edge with a bloodcurdling scream.

"NO!" Odin bellowed and charged at the jötun. Erik squeezed his eyes shut, reminding himself that this was the memory of a long-dead stranger. Charles turned his back on the battle, creeping cautiously over to the nearest column to look over the ledge. They didn't really need to see the rest of the fight to know how it turned out. In the end, Odin's men only just managed to pull him off of his would-be-assassin once the giant was utterly broken, choking on his own blood. The poor bloke might have had it a little easier if the other Asgardians had noticed that Lord Loki had become tangled in some of the glistening vines that grew up the side of the cliff. He was unconscious and horribly injured, but Charles was fairly sure that he was still alive. Then again, judging by the wild look in Odin's eyes, the assassin was likely to die either way.

"We should leave. I'm not sure why we're even seeing this," Charles muttered. Erik nodded following him back into the corridor. When they stepped through the doorway, however, they found themselves in a bustling chamber. It looked like Lord Loki's bedroom had become the hub of the castle's healing staff. "That doesn't usually happen." Charles turned back to see that the doorway they had entered through was now a solid stone wall.

"It would appear we are trapped for now," Erik observed agitatedly.

"Sire," a tall, platinum-blond woman called, striding past them with a professional, dignified air that made it clear she was in charge.

"Lady Eir," Odin greeted with a stiff nod. "How fares Lord Loki?"

Lady Eir paused and looked at the other healers still busying themselves with her patient. "If I may Sire, I believe you may prefer to discuss my findings privately."

"Why? What's happened to him?" Frigga wondered aloud, peering at Lord Loki's bed from her place at the future king's side.

Odin led the two women into the antichamber and shut the door behind them, catching Charles halfway through so that he was forced to bear moving through it. Erik covered his amused smile with one hand. Charles frowned at him.

"Your verdict, Milady?" Odin prompted, sounding a tad impatient.

"Lord Loki's burns were fortunately not as severe as they first appeared, but ze has become perilously dehydrated," Lady Eir shied away ever so subtly in response to Odin's venemous glare. He was clearly not fond of her choice of pronoun.

"Can you not aid him?" Frigga inquired, overlooking the rising tension in the room.

"We are doing all that we can. He will mend in time but he will be difficult to mend without causing further detriment to the child."

"What child do you speak of?" Odin demanded.

"You did not know..." Lady Eir realised aloud. "Forgive me your Highness. I assumed that he would have told you."

Now it was Frigga who avoided General Odin's gaze. Odin's expression darkened further.

"Leave us," he commanded.

"Yes, Sire," Lady Eir bowed and left to continue supervising Lord Loki's treatment. After a brief hesitation, Charles slipped through the closing door, deciding he'd rather stick with her. He gasped at an unexpected rush of projected sensations.

Loki's skin was stinging, tearing at the slightest touch, and there were hands everywhere, rubbing salve, replacing bandages, sewing wounds shut. The back of his neck throbbed with a dull ache, as if it might be broken and he could hear muffled yelling in the distance. Odin. He sounded furious. Loki wondered what he had supposedly done this time. Then it occurred to him to question why he wasn't dead. More skin tore on the side of his neck and he let out a scream, only to discover that he couldn't. His throat was too dry and his lungs were too weak. He tried harder anyway.

AVENGERS TOWER

Loki screamed himself awake with a start. He slapped a hand over his mouth and stared, wide-eyed, at the ceiling of the gym. That nightmare was far too vivid. He had fallen asleep in the training ring this time, on top of a heap of training gear. There was a kneepad digging into the nape of his neck (which explained the stinging sensation) and- Is that a piece of chewing gum stuck to the ceiling? How? Why?

It didn't matter. Loki pulled himself to his feet and wandered out of the gym, totally blanking Steve and his oh-so-righteous look of concerned disapproval as he passed the supersoldier headed the other way.

"Loki..."

Loki disappeared up the seldom used stairwell without sparing him even a thought. The Captain frowned at the door as it drifted shut behind the palid, and shivering alien, then turned and headed back the way he'd come.

No one else in the tower was up anymore at this late hour of the night. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Steve was still up, probably taking out his honourable, manly-angst on some poor, defenseless punching bag two floors below, but Steve didn't count. Loki looked at the empty bottle on the bartop, then moved to pour another glass for himself out of the more recently opened stopped, decided not to bother and just took a swig straight out of the bottle. He winced at the taste then leaned on one folded arm on the countertop and took a bigger swig anyway. Someone- a male- exited the lift behind him and made their way over to him on silent feet. Not Thor then. Thank the Norns. Oh, no one else is awake. Therefore...

His unexpected company sat down on the stool that he was indirectly facing, blocking out the moonlit cityscape that dimly illuminated their surroundings.

"You're not the Captain," Loki determined, frowning at Clint's silhouette.

"You don't drink," Clint countered.

Loki flopped down to rest his head on the cool granite bartop, peering out the window through the gap between Clint's arm and his torso.

"There are very few things I that know for certain about you," Clint continued, pouring himself a scotch, which was confusing because does he not despise me? "That" Clint gestured with his glass to underscore his point. "Was definitely one of them."

Loki took a deep breath and let it out. It gave the impression that he was about to say something notable. Instead, he sat up and took another sip from his bottle, staring meditatively at the wall behind the bar.

"This ought to be good," Clint determined, taking a sip of his scotch while he watched and waited for the jötun god to speak.

"You wouldn't poison me. You are too honest a man to end me in such a way. You can look your foe in the eye and face what you have done. You live in a world of rules. When you kill me, I will die by those rules and there will be no doubt," Loki paused to take a drink. "I envy you your world. You would not wish to venture into mine."

"Gold isn't really my thing," Clint conceded, feeling shamefully relieved that this encounter between them was going nowhere. When he had run into Steve on his way to tell Thor about Loki's worrying behaviour, Clint had decided it was his chance to face down one of his darkest demons. However, he was no longer in deep enough denial to miss the fact that that was not what this was. "I could go without lying for a while, but all that chivalry bullshit..."

Loki let out a raspy, empty-sounding chuckle. Despite the sound of it, Clint could feel just how close that laugh was to becoming a sob. It seemed that he might have to face this after all. "Everybody lies," Loki spat, sounding for the first time like the fractured conquerer who'd entranced him. "Truth, and deception are the currency of true power."

"I get that, coming from you." Clint checked the label on Loki's empty bottle. "Dude. Is this absinthe?"

Loki returned to his more inert position draped over the bartop. "Have you ever had the feeling that you are naught but a pawn in a chess game that is being played against you?"

Clint stared at him for a long moment, decided that he just couldn't, and pulled the half empty bottle out of Loki's loose grip. "Ok. You're done with this-" Clint sniffed the bottle's contents out of morbid curiosity and recoiled. "Holy shit! Never again, Dude. This smells vaguely poisonous."

"Is that not the point?" Loki remarked, dropping his head onto his curled arm. All right so maybe he was a little bit drunk. Buzzed, really.

Clint opened his mouth to say something else, probably to ridicule him, but Loki had started talking again. Almost against his own will.

"Ever since I was small, I had the dreams. Strange dreams, like fleeting snippets of another life. Everything was scrambled, but they always fit..." He ran his hands through his tousled black locks. "I was never truly me. Loki Odinson never existed. I am the lie. I have no fate of my own. There was only Odin, and Thor after him, and now..." Loki closed his eyes. He felt Charles' influence tucked away in the back of his mind waiting for the other telepath to be gone so that he could reemerge and guide Loki once more. There was a gentle, haphazard plethora of emotions drifting up from the bedrooms below, the Avengers who awaited the information that Loki had, Thor still expecting to win back his 'brother'. Odin's influence over the youngest prince of Asgard might have faded, but now Loki had so many more masters. He didn't even know who he was anymore. "And now my life is yours," he concluded miserably.

Clint looked at him, unreadable in the darkness, then finished his scotch and stood. "This is why you don't drink," he observed, smacking Loki once on the shoulder in an almost familiar gesture and heading for the stairs. "I'm bailing before Thor get's here and hauls your emo ass back to his floor."

Loki considered the untidiness he'd just been faced with. His deer-in-headlights expression was a thing of beauty. "I don't feel like sleeping."

"You should try, because right now you're like Kafka on downers, and I can only imagine that you will be ten times worse when you're hung over," Clint speculated, making his escape to the balcony. The elevator dinged just as his silhouette leapt up and out of view on the other side of the glass.

A/N: Thanks for reading. I hope you guys liked this one. It took some doing-Lord knows why-but hopefully, it hits the spot. Special thanks to icanhearthedrums and Ruby of Raven for their kind reviews. Until next time my lovelies! Have a beautiful week!