Chapter 21: Read Between the Lies
Loki woke to the cold morning light streaming into his face through the red silk curtains, and frowned. This wasn't right at all. First, he had one bitch of a headache; second, he was fairly sure he had fallen asleep... Ah. That's right: I am a subject of Thor's 'Avengers'. He was now in the king-sized featherbed in Stark's guestroom, being watched by someone out of his line of sight.
"Thor," he guessed, because the many vicious piskies currently waging war within his skull were not allowing him to process empathic impressions this morning.
"'Morning, Brother," was Thor's stern-sounding acknowledgement. "What do you remember?"
Oh. I've been drinking. He always asks me that after I've been drinking. Loki scrubbed a hand over his face, sorting through his scattered memories. "I fell asleep downstairs... in the sparring ring. I had a nightmare." Perhaps that small admission would gain him some sympathy from the old pushover. Loki rolled over to look at the imposing figure watching him from his seat on Loki's rather redundant desk. No, he still looked angry.
"I didn't harm anyone..." Loki hazarded.
"Your magic remained dormant this time," Thor conceded.
"Then leave me be. I am sure that you can find a more suitable distraction for yourself than watching me suffer," Loki dismissed, pulling the burgundy, quilted comforter up over his head to block out the cursed light. Thor yanked it back away from his face.
"You are right, Brother-"
"Not your brother."
"Loki," Thor amended without missing a beat. "I have no wish to stand by and watch you suffer! I promised that I would look out for you, and yet you fight me at every turn!"
"Ahh!" Loki complained, then pressed a hand over his mouth to stifle a sudden wave of nausea. "Too loud."
"You must give me the chance first if I am to prove myself to you," Thor continued less loudly. Behind him a luminous-chested sillhouette appeared in the doorway holding a tray.
"I was wrong," Loki amended. "It is not the volume, but rather the quality of your voice that plagues me. Prove yourself absent and I will spare you my sickness."
Thor facepalmed.
"Well. This is fun," Tony commented, sounding way too perky while he breezed into the room and set a tray down on the nightstand. "For you." He grabbed his cellphone out of his back pocket and snapped a picture of Loki and his morbid, squinting face. "For the Christmas card."
Loki glanced down at himself uncertainly. His green shirt did contrast with the red and yellow bedclothes in an unfortunate way. "Do you have a death wish, Little Man?"
Tony picked up the mug of steaming dark liquid and held it out toward Loki. "Drink this."
Loki sniffed it daintily and leaned away.
Tony smiled. "Come on, drink it."
Loki turned his back on them and hid under the blankets again. Thor stepped around Tony and yanked the covers off of the bed.
"Cad," Loki swore, shielding his face with one arm.
Tony leaned over him, thoroughly enjoying the moment and whispered, "Drink it."
Loki didn't budge.
"Makes you feel better," Tony singsonged into his ear.
Loki flinched away from the noise, shooting a feeble attempt at his usual murderous glare at the smirking cyborg. He was positive that Stark had purposefully sung that off key just to be an ass. He used the arm previously shielding his face to push Tony's chest. "Get off of me, you miscreant." He eyed the mug suspiciously, then Tony. The inventor waggled his eyebrows. After another beat of hesitation Loki accepted the coffee. He nearly spit out the first taste of it. "Agh. What is this bitter swill!? It tastes of death!"
Tony laughed. "Yeah. I know. Also this." He injected something into the side of Loki's neck while the trickster's hands were still cupping his mug.
"Ow!" Loki whispered, pressing a hand to the sore spot. A flicker of green energy crackled over his skin in silent warning.
"Aw. Poor baby! Want me to kiss it better?" Tony teased, resting a hand on the back of Loki's neck.
"Stark," Thor warned, which turned out to be pointless, since Loki back-handed Tony across the face at almost the same split second.
Tony coughed, stiffly picking himself up off of the immaculate, white carpet. "Okay. I admit: that was unnecessary," he conceded, dabbing at his bloody lip. "Although, so was the response."
Loki averted his eyes and took another drink of his coffee rather than reply. He hadn't meant to do that, it was a reflex. His pulse was racing now, but he ignored it as well as the unwarranted panic that was still coursing through him. Tony wasn't a threat. Loki didn't understand why his body couldn't accept that.
"It was just a painkiller..." Tony muttered probing at the partial handprint Loki had left over his jaw.
"Excuse us," Thor commanded, in a tone just this side of threatening.
Tony looked at him, then at Loki. "Yeah. I'll just be..." and shuffled out of the room.
"I don't want to to talk about what happened," Loki preempted.
"What has the Titan done to you?"
"What do you think?" Loki snapped, winced, then looked away again and his voice quieted. "He had me, for a year. He did as he pleased. Even your simple mind can grasp that much without my recounting."
Thor bent forward and hung his head with his hands resting on either side of the foot of the bed.
"He is coming after your friends, Thor. You can prevail against him without knowing the details of my imprisonment," Loki continued, after an unwisely long drink of his steaming hot coffee. "You must know that he is dangerous. He wields a powerful magic, and he will kill thousands for the sake of it."
"You are a powerful sorcerer," Thor offerred, not looking nearly as hopeful as he used to when he stated that fact.
"I am gifted," Loki countered. "I had no chance against him when I was alone."
"You are no longer alone, Brother- Loki. We can defeat him, if you can bear to trust us. I have no intention of letting you fall again," Thor assured him, looking into his eyes so earnestly that Loki felt a little ill. Or maybe it was the hangover.
"And I believe you, Brother," he accepted and took another drink of the awful beverage. He scowled and regarded the half-empty mug with disdain. "No need to miss the morning meal on my account. I plan to sleep through it without an audience." He added in response to the Thunderer's quizzical expression, "This drink is vile."
Thor shrugged, barely containing the smile that Loki's acceptance had brought to his face. "I think that it tastes wonderful."
Loki watched him with a jaded look in his eye.
"I will save you some waffles to make up for it," the blond promised before leaving.
Loki stared thoughtfully into his mug. Thor liked many things that tasted far too bitter, burned Loki's tongue, or in a couple of isolated cases made him downright ill. He never could figure out why. It was the same with Sif, and Fandral, although Fandral, to his merit had always been so inexplicably understanding about it. Loki threw back the last bitter dose of coffee and flopped limply onto his overstuffed pillows.
"What now?" Tony asked, peeking in through the half-open doorway. It didn't surprise Loki. He doubted that Stark was the type who brought other men breakfast in bed.
"I am Jötun," Loki stated, staring up at the ceiling.
Tony walked around the foot of the bed and plopped down on the empty space beside the Trickster. "And?"
Loki turned his head to look at the mechanic. His expression seemed sincere. A cascade of cool, smoky blue spread over Loki's skin while the two silently regarded one another. Tony didn't bat an eyelash in response to the change, continuing to gaze down into Loki's now blood-red eyes.
"You aren't afraid," Loki realized.
"Of you? Meh! Maybe a little, but that's what happens when you throw someone out of a hundredth story window," Tony admitted easily. He followed Loki's previous line of sight, taking on a contemplative air. "You know. I never really considered it before now, but I deserve a cooler ceiling. I mean, this is fine and all, but I'm Tony Stark. I shou-"
Loki shifted so that he was leaning over Tony, almost nose-to-nose, and grabbed a handful of his shirt.
"Whoa! Okay. If you like this one, though, that's good too..." Tony amended, confused.
"You do not fear this?" Loki challenged, staring straight into Tony's eyes as the temperature began to plummet around them. Or more acurately: around Loki. It was as though he was sucking all of the heat out of the air. Tony was pretty sure that that was precisely what was happening. His skin was being chilled as the first hints of frost began to collect around his collar, but Loki's skin was warm. In fact, his skin felt like it was getting warmer in a specific, intricate pattern.
"That's great! How do you do that? I mean did someone have to teach you how it works or what?" Tony inquired, deciding to go with his gut on this one and show off his interest, rather than admit how fucking intimidating this whole experience was. It worked for X and he hoped that it would work for him.
"What?" Loki blinked at him, surprised. This situation was becoming sort of familiar. The cold stopped spreading and the frost even started to melt against Tony's skin.
"I mean the whole Jack Frost thing. That's got to be useful. Makes sense though, coming from a frozen planet and all," Tony rambled, considering the phenomenon and trying to work out the logistics.
Loki's red eyes regarded him narrowly and he let his hand fall away from the spreading damp spot on Tony's shoulder. The inventor, unfazed, picked it up and began to inspect it.
"Oh, right. So that's what these are for," he observed, tracing one of Loki's ridges with a fingertip.
Loki sucked in a gasp and attempted to pull his hand away. Tony trapped it between both of his, closely scrutinizing Loki's face. Tony was in full on science mode now. He would have called Bruce up and invited him to join in if he wasn't convinced that it would piss off his current subject.
"Um, nope. What was that?" he queried.
"I would like my hand back now, Mr. Stark," was the icy response.
"My first question of the day," Tony persisted. "What's the deal with the ridges?"
"That is hardly suitable wording," Loki replied. Then he saw the look on Tony's face and admitted, "They're sensitive," in a suitably bitchy tone. He hated admitting to such a vulnerability.
Tony loosened his grip a little, just in case, but not enough to free it. He did almost look apologetic though, which was somewhat of an accomplishment coming from him. Loki's eyes flickered from his trapped hand to Tony's face.
"I was not taught. The response is linked to my mental state. Fear or anger. Would you care for another demonstration? At this moment I would rather enjoy showing you just how cold I can get."
"How warm," Tony corrected without hesitation.
Loki frowned. "I beg your pardon?"
"Your ridges heated up just now, when you did that. My guess is that it's some kind of extreme thermal absorbtion. You suck the heat out of an area through these thermal pathways," Tony touched a ridge on Loki's wrist much more gently than he had before. At least this time it didn't hurt. "Cold is the basic state of the universe, you can't add an absence. You remove what's there."
Tony released his grip on Loki's hand and the Trickster conscientously reinstated his Aesir guise.
"That does make more sense..." Loki admitted. It was a detail of the Frost Giant legends that had always bothered his practical mind even before he ever encountered another Jötun in reality.
"You don't have to keep doing that, you know. Nobody cares what you look like. Hell, it might help you and Clint and your...thing."
"My brother hates my kind," Loki said flatly.
There was an uncomfortable pause.
"I do want to see you do that again," Tony informed him. "Come down to my lab sometime and show me what you can do."
"You would ask me to reveal myself to you without offering me anything in return."
"The utter joy of having me around?"
"You keep selling yourself so cheaply, Stark, and you will lose all value to me."
"You mean I'm skating on thin ice?"
"If you plan to mock my nature I shan't venture into your abysmal little hole for the rest of your days," Loki sneered, sitting back against the headboard and managing to look regal in spite of his shadowed eyes and rumpled clothing.
Tony bit his lip hard in order to prevent his immediate response from escaping. Loki narrowed his eyes at him, suspicious.
"What is wrong with you?"
"I'm being mature," Tony managed. "It's h- difficult. I think I can manage it if we can find a middle ground."
Loki rolled his eyes. "If you are quite finished molesting me, Stark. I do believe that a meal awaits you elsewhere."
"Now you're being dramatic." Tony rejected with a careless gesture.
"You truly think it wise to invite that comparison. How would you characterize your behavior?"
"I call this revenge." Tony indicated the gradually fading handprint.
"If you're setting up another pun, you won't make it out of this room."
"Easy Tiger, at least take me to dinner first." Tony belatedly slapped a hand over his mouth.
"Hmm. It seems that his endeavor has failed," Loki observed, looking at the quietly laughing Wanda who'd been watching their exchange from the doorway. "What do you need?"
Wanda straightened and reached out a hand toward him expectantly. When he didn't get up she shook it at him.
"I'm not feeling well. Stark can help you."
"No," Wanda darted forward and grabbed his arms, trying to pull him out of bed. "We have to go."
"Careful! All right, I'll come with you," Loki surrendered before she could hurt herself, and let Wanda drag him out towards the lifts. "Why not tell me where to meet you? I would prefer to wash up first."
"Now," Wanda disagreed and the lift arrived in front of them. She led him into the elevator, not trusting him to navigate for himself, and Tony trailed in behind them with his hands tucked into his pockets.
"What?" He defended against Loki's arched brow. "I'm curious."
"JARVIS, communal level two. Enhance our transit speed," Wanda ordered.
"Now I'm really curious," Tony revised, turning to address Wanda. "Sorry, Jerry Samuels, security protocols. You need an administrator's voice code."
Loki opened his mouth to provide it-because it'd be funny- but then stilled in reaction to the sudden change in the air around them. His gaze darted around the confined space and he began to grip Wanda's wrist painfully tightly.
"Loki?" Tony questioned, beginning to get creeped out by Loki's obvious apprehension.
"You feel it too," Wanda said to the increasingly more frightened prince.
"Feel what exactly?" Tony asked, completely serious. He figured anything that could make Loki look scared was worth his full attention.
"It's coming..."
ASTRAL PLANE
Erik stepped through Lord Loki's chamber door and found himself back inside the sanctuary. The door slammed shut in his wake, disappearing into the wall. Erik looked down at the lamp. The lamp looked up at him. The study remained still and silent around them.
"Charles?" Erik called.
There was no response. He walked over to the door and peeked out, just on the off chance that it might have changed. It had, but not in a good way. Now it opened up into an ancient, smoldering vilage strewn with scorched or blood-soaked corpses, both human and jötun alike. The harsh, ashy wind blew in through the open doorway sending papers and small objects flying.
"What is this?" "What have you done!?" "Only he who is worthy..." "... you will forgive me..."
Erik stared out into the lifeless village, trying to identify the overlapping voices. The woman was unfamiliar to him, but the others...
"I remember fire..." a child's voice uttered in an oddly emotionless tone, only to be cut off by Loki's half-mad cry of ,"TELL ME!"
Erik caught the old tome flying past him before it could be blown out through the portal and slammed the door shut hard enough to make it shake.
Erik stumbled back over to the couch and stuggled to catch his breath. He hadn't only heard the voices. He had felt them. The different emotions and sensations bound to that moment were still echoing through his mind, at war with one other as they all competed for his full attention. He tried to force them away as he looked down at the open book in his hand and frowned. The next pages in the book were stuck together, almost as though someone had slathered them with glue. Erik turned the book around and checked to be certain. Yes. The unread pages had been, well, vandalized wasn't the right word... He carefully peeled the old, weathered papers apart and used his pocket knife when he reached a particularly difficult section. This part of the book was different from the others before it. The pages were ancient, handmade, and the neatly inked words seemed to have been hand written using a quill. Erik tucked his knife away and leaned back into the cushions to read in more direct lighting. For the first time since that strange little tale about the child-Loki lost in the woods, a new chapter had been marked.
Lord Loki sat on the edge of the balcony of his brother's royal chambers, looking out at the cloudy, autumn landscape below. The golden city of Asgard now looked tarnished and bleak, with clouds of black smoke interspersing the more seasonal spirals of woodsmoke from people's homes.
There was a gasp from the archway at his back, then the double doors swung open and the future queen's muffled footsteps padded onto the balcony. "Lord Loki, how many times must I remind you? You must take take better care of yourself. Now, especially," Frigga lamented, draping her shawl over her head to shield herself from the pouring rain. Inside there was a loud, put upon grumble and General Odin marched over to see what his brother had gotten himself into this time.
"I haven't the slightest idea what you mean, your Magesty."
"You are on the wrong side of the railing, my Lord," Frigga drawled, leaning on said railing in order to look down at her rain-soaked brother-in-law. "You look like a sodden polecat."
Lord Loki pulled himself upright to face her, disregarding the way that his feet slipped on the rainslick ledge, and looked down at his dripping wet clothes. "I will concede that I am more damp than usual..."
Odin stepped forward and preemptively grabbed his brother's shirtfront in the split second before he let go of his handholds for no good reason.
"Although, I posit that I am much more appealing than that foul Midgardian beast."
"You would," Odin remarked gruffly. He was still feeling sore about not being told about the new baby.
"Tyr had that sorceress friend of his lock you out of the palace again?" Frigga guessed, hiding her smile.
Lord Loki nodded, looking astonished by the Aesir warrior's rejection. "Never have I had quite so many doors slammed in my face. One would think that he could develop a sense of humour by now."
"One would think that you could learn not to antagonize those two," Odin countered as he hauled him up onto the proper side of the railing.
"I could, but that would hardly be any fun," Lord Loki replied, following the King and Queen to the intricately cast iron doors. Frigga walked through ahead of him just fine, but when Lord Loki stepped forward, the doors immediately slammed shut.
Odin pulled the door open and stepped forward to hold it, but Lord Loki placed a hand on his arm.
"Don't bother. One of the maids tried that earlier," Lord Loki's eyes narrowed as he shifted his attention to the Queen. "Which reminds me, you may want to send someone down to the east courtyard to let her back in."
Odin rolled his eyes while Frigga shot his brother a reproachful look. "Wait there. I'll need to grab a few supplies." She walked deeper into her chambers and out of sight, calling to her handmaiden as she went to go help the poor servant girl.
"You need to make your peace with the war council," Odin stated, stepping out of the rain.
"This has nothing to do with your council."
"Do not test my patience, Brother. Whether or not you approve of this war, you have a duty to your people. I had hoped that you had realized that when you finally deigned to attend the last two meetings."
"I have not forgotten my duty, Odin. Bearing that in mind, I will need to avoid attendence for a little while, considering my situation."
"Do not start this - as father and I still struggle to impart, you must accept the responsibilities borne in your blood."
"I understand. To be certain, General, to which people do you refer? For in this case it cannot be all of them," Lord Loki pointed out.
"If this is about your mother-"
"I have different responsibilities than you do, Odin. You are Börsson, the honored General. I am the Jötun bastard... Lord. I must do what is best for my children."
"What does this have to do with your title?" Odin's eyes narrowed. "Or your brood for that matter?"
"You two aren't arguing again, are you?" Frigga asked, passing behind him while she began working on countering Amhora's spell.
"How perceptive of you, Odin. It is always facinating to me where your blind spots reveal themselves. After all, not a month ago you thought that I was merely putting on a little weight. It seems to me that you try very hard to overlook the obvious," Lord Loki replied to Odin's deflection.
"That last trip that you took to Jötunheim. I knew that no good would come of it," Odin muttered bitterly.
Loki's lips stretched into a tight, unhappy smile.
"Fine. If you insist upon refusing your seat on the war council, you will represent us in our trade talks with the dwarves. I have need of a more worthy means of fighting. You will convince them to provide a superior weapon."
Loki scoffed.
"You will do so if you wish to be granted leave," Odin elaborated. "Father will agree with me."
"You see," Lord Loki said to Frigga in a characteristically playful tone. "This is why I prefer your company. Little brother has always been so surly."
"Of course, Dear," Frigga responded, still more focused on her work. "Odin, perhaps you might fetch him a cloak. This spell should take a while to unweave."
"Do not encourage him," Odin grumbled.
Frigga turned to look at her husband.
"Yes, My Love."
A low growl resonated from just past Erik's left shoulder. He tensed, dreading needle-like claws in his scalp, and turned to see what the fuss was about. For once, the Lamp was not threatening him. His tawny eyes were staring out through the window at...
"This cannot bode well," Erik observed, watching a huge, blueblack shadow rapidly overtake the foggy New York skyline outside. Soon it would block out all the natural light.
The Lamp let out another extended growl.
Charles smiled down at Lord Loki's exhausted, yet overjoyed face, as the Aesir Lord held his new son close to his chest. The baby was pale, almost as much as Charles' Loki, and he already had a few reddish brown ringlets scattered over his tiny head. Lord Loki readjusted the blanket so that the handmaiden sitting next to him could have a better look, and the baby scrunched up its face reaching one tiny hand out in blind protest.
"Oh... Oooh. The poor dear doesn't like that," the woman cooed. A shadow passed by the window, blocking out the sun for a few seconds before it was gone. Charles eyed the window, concerned, but then brushed it off.
The handmaiden had begun to brush a couple of curls out of the infant's face and stilled, her expression growing apprehensive. "He feels cold..."
"A fire perhaps, to keep them warm?" Frigga suggested, shooting the younger woman a significant look from her place at the foot of the bed. The handmaiden jumped up to get one started, keeping her gaze averted. Everyone had been winding down from their fright at the sudden premature birth. Despite the future Queen's efforts the air was charging with a whole new tension. The midwife and mages were exchanging conspiratorial looks. Everyone seemed to have already come to the conclusion that something was wrong with this new child... except for the mother.
The baby wriggled and murmured in his blanket. His skin shown with the faintest undertone of blue.
A blond woman who'd been sitting silently in the corner just out of Frigga's sight stepped forward and flicked one hand outward in an almost lazy gesture, and a fire sprang to life in the hearth behind them. The handmaiden let out a little startled squeak and retreated. The window was blacked out now but Charles was too distracted to notice.
"He is absolutely exceptional," the woman agreed, walking closer to stand over the bed. Charles had to take a hasty step to the right so that she wouldn't end up standing halfway inside him. "What will you name the precious boy?"
Lord Loki didn't answer right away. A prudent move. Both Charles and the midwife had caught the way that she had savored the word 'exceptional' and all but discarded the word 'boy'.
"I had thought to name him Fe-" Lord Loki started haltingly, only to be cut off by Frigga pointedly speaking over his baby's name.
"Enchantress, I do not recall summoning you. Has some other purpose drawn you here?" she inquired, with a look on her face that suffered no bullshit. Charles turned away towards the door while the 'Enchantress' spouted some ominous nonsense about representing the Allfather's interest. She made this sound like some kind of twisted political event.
There was a strange smell on the air that did not belong. Chemical. Metallic. It was almost like an electrical fire... Charles stepped out through the door into the unnaturally dark corridor outside. The torches that lined the wall were still burning away, but their light no longer managed to counteract the encroaching darkness. The shadows seemed more substantial now, more solid.
"Who- What?" he amended, there were traces of emotion and intelligence teasing at the edges of his mind, but when he felt for a consciousness he found instead a moving, undeniable lack encroaching upon the dreamscape. "It. Loki called you an it."
There was a flicker of movement that blocked out the torchlight for a fraction of a second, and in that split second, the corridor depressurized. Charles caught himself on the suddenly solid wall and ran for his life.
AVENGERS TOWER
Tonyblinked rapidly and held a hand over the side of his own head. "Okay. Did anyone else's ears just pop for no reason?"
"It's the drop in air pressure," Loki provided hollowly. He had retreated into a haunting sort of calm.
Tony scrutinized Loki's expression -or lack thereof- and concluded, to his displeasure, that Loki wasn't faking it. "JARVIS, full speed."
"Yes, Sir," JARVIS acknowledged; the lift nearly dropped out from under them in its rush to reach the requested floor.
"Ow," Wanda breathed, pulling the wrist Loki was holding. After too much difficulty, Loki forced himself to loosen his grip.
Tony checked the numerical readout overhead. "Watch out for the-" The lift slammed to a halt, causing Loki to stumble and the two mortal passengers to fall into each other.
"Crap! Sorry," Tony muttered, helping Wanda to her feet. She grabbed Loki's arm and herded him out into the living room to join her twin, and both ex-assassins, Sif and Steve, without sparing the engineer a glance. Loki had more or less completely checked out by now. All the color had drained out of his vision. He knew he didn't have much time left.
"Hey, Sis," Peter greeted from his armchair, simultaneously beating Clint-again- at his favorite futuristic videogame. Then he was in front of them.
"Aw! What the hell?" Clint objected.
"What's wrong? You look scared. Heshouldn'tlooklikethatshouldhe?" Peter demanded. Behind him Natasha and Sif stood from their seats on the sofa, the former slipping out of the room to get Thor and Bruce.
"Great. Now you got him speed-talking," Clint accused, dropping his controller in order to join them. "Do we even wanna' know this time?"
Loki let out a grunt of pain and doubled over, hugging himself. Sif darted forward to catch him before his knees buckled.
"Loki, what is the matter?" Sif questioned, pulling him upright to face her. When he didn't respond she looked over his shoulder at Tony. "What has happened?"
Tony shrugged helplessly.
"Any idea," Steve prompted. Tony shook his head, but he was already looking past him at Natasha and Thor.
"Loki..." Sif worried, tilting his chin up so their eyes met. He was hyperventillating.
"Banner?" Steve verified, looking at Natasha.
"On his way," she confirmed.
Loki opened his mouth to answer Sif, but his time had run out. He sucked in a sharp breath and then his expression went slack. His hands, fisted in her sleeves relaxed, and an impenetrably black shadow swept across his eyes, leaving two alien, blue orbs in its wake.
ASTRAL PLANE
Charles charged into the open chambers and slammed the door shut behind him, securing the bolt in place in record time. He then turned and collapsed against the smooth wood, ready to slide all the way down it. Instead he frowned and reopened his eyes. Loki- his Loki was curled up on the foot of the scarlet and silver bed visible through the inner doorway. He was watching something on the floor and out of sight.
"What are you doing here?" Charles half asked, half thought aloud, making his way toward the bedroom.
"I'm watching my son," Loki replied wanly, tracking the little puppy's movements as it played with a self-animated ball of light and leather that bounced around in front of it. "Well... it was my son. Even if I don't have one. Now it's a puppy. My dreams aren't usually this odd."
"I don't believe that this is a dream," Charles told him leaning on the doorjamb. The little wolf seemed strangely familiar, but he couldn't think of why. It was a fluffy white pup, with almost luminous bluegreen eyes, and it was quite a bit larger than a normal wolf pup. In fact it was already around the size of an adult golden retriever, although, for all Charles knew that was normal for Asgard.
"That makes sense," Loki accepted, calling the glowing gadget into his hand with a lazy gesture and smiling at the adorable way that the puppy immediately sat before him, transfixed by the toy. "No matter. We're safe here."
The little wolf barked impatiently at him, anxious to resume his game.
"That's not..." Charles saw the relaxed, lazy expression on Loki's face and revised his tactic. "What is the last thing that you remember?"
"Hmm?" Loki mimed throwing the ball. The puppy barely twitched in the implied direction, seeing through the trick, and letting out a little imploring song. Charles got the feeling that this wolf was far too clever, especially for a canine of his age.
"Before. What do you remember last before you appeared here?" he elaborated. The little pup leaned back with its front paws splayed out and its wagging tale held high.
Loki tossed the ball to himself. "We were in the lift."
"Yes..."
"Wanda was in a rush..." he bounced the ball in front of the pup and back into his hands.
"And then?"
"Does it matter?" He tossed the ball to the wolf. The puppy appeared a little overexcited, though, and knocked the ball away into a pile of training equipment in its haste. "Oh, you silly Boy."
"This is your brother's room," Charles realized, then shook himself. "Yes. This is important. What happened right before you lost consciousness?"
Loki got up to fetch the ball. The puppy let out a victorious bark and lept up to steal his seat, somehow managing to take up all the space without much effort. Loki turned back and tutted disappointedly.
"Maybe he is your son," Charles joked.
"We were in the living room. I stumbled and..." the peaceful expression dropped from Loki's face. "No."
"Loki? What happened?" Charles crossed over to face him toe to toe. "I can help you but I need to know what we're facing."
"It was as if the void had followed me to Midgard. I have only felt it in the void. It thinks as if alive, but it is not," Loki swallowed down his nerves. "There is a good chance that it has taken my body from me."
"I encountered something matching your description before."
"Do you still have hope that you can aid me?"
Charles paused for a moment, mulling things over and began to nod as an idea formed. "Very much so. Do you trust me, yet?"
"Do what you must," Loki obfuscated. It would have to do for now.
AVENGERS TOWER
Loki opened his mouth to answer Sif, but his time had run out. He sucked in a sharp breath and then his expression went slack. His hands fisted in her sleeves relaxed, and an impenetrably black shadow swept across his eyes, leaving two alien, blue orbs in its wake. Clint and Natasha both drew their weapons and trained them on the familiar threat. Sif stepped back but his hands clamped down on her forearms in a white-knuckled grip.
"Hold your fire," the Cap ordered, holding out a hand. "Lady Sif, you alright?"
Sif gave a stiff nod. Her eyes flicked down to Thor's hand resting uncertainly on Mjolnir's handle. "He has done me no harm."
The lifeless blue eyes were looking around the room, scrutinizing, categorizing.
"Why's he just standing there?" Peter wondered.
"It's studying us," Natasha supplied. "Reconnaissance."
"It's the scout," Clint spat, then shifted his aim to Loki's temple when the... thing smiled at him with Loki's stolen face. It looked like some creepy animatronic reproduction, devoid of life or feeling.
"Stand down, Barton." The Cap turned from Clint, to Loki's possessor. "Who are you?" He asked, stepping forward to stand just out of reach.
The blue eyes shifted to watch him, but there was no further response.
"I know that you can hear me."
Still nothing.
"I'm Captain Steve Rodgers," Steve tried again.
"Don't give it your name, " Tony whined.
"That body that you just hijacked belongs to someone I'm responsible for, so tell me your damned name," Steve insisted, staring the invader down.
The smile on Loki's face turned into a rictus grin.
"Answer me."
It tilted Loki's head, opening his mouth as if to talk. A bright blue light began to build over Loki's solar plexus diverting its attention.
"Mother's necklace," Thor realized.
The posessor reached for the chain, curling forward as though the pendant was burning it. It began to try to yank the necklace off without touching the pendant. It hissed in pain when the crystal brushed his skin.
"No," Thor lunged forward and grabbed Loki, pinning his arms to his chest. It writhed and clawed at his arms, but he held fast. Tony watched them struggle for a second, thinking about the time that he had spent with X at his school. He darted forward, grabbed the brilliantly glowing pendant and pressed it to Loki's temple. Loki's possessor let out a scream and Loki's eyes flashed with white light. He stopped struggling. There was a moment of tense silence. Loki's hands came up to hook over Thor's forearm, no longer resisting the pin.
"Loki?" Thor questioned. "Little b-"
"I am not little, nor am I your brother," Loki replied, sounding like he probably had a dry throat to match his wit.
Clint lowered his weapon. "He's back."
Natasha followed his cue, her interest piqued by his easy-going attitude towards his ex-nemesis.
"How are you feeling?" Steve asked, studying the Trickster's expression.
"I would quite appreciate a glass of water, and an account of what happened. Other than that I am fine," Loki responded, acting like nothing creepy or traumatic had just occured to him at all.
ASTRAL PLANE
Charles stepped out of Thor's chambers to find himself in what must be the palace's council chambers. There was a long oak table lined with burly, middle-aged men in gilded oak armchairs, and a throne-like seat at the far end. In it sat General Odin. The true throne behind him housed an older man. That must be Bör, the previous Allfather, Charles realised. The king appeared to be asleep, yet no one had noticed yet. Or at least, none were brave enough to acknowledge it.
"Then it is agreed. We will trap their forces on Midgard. This Frost Giant scourge will meet its end!" the Lord on Odin's left affirmed.
"If it must be. We shall end this war through fire," Odin agreed less enthusiastically. The Lords around him let out cries of approval, some of them drumming their goblets on the tabletop to stress their agreement. Charles could see why Lord Loki preferred to avoid these things.
The doors were thrown open and a familiar, dark silhouette marched into the room, his fur-lined cloak billowing impressively around him. For once, Lord Loki looked truly angry. The hall fell into complete silence as he stalked right up to the end of the conference table and broke said silence with a loud slam. He had thrown the leather bag he was carrying down into the dead center of the table. The heavy weight inside cracked the surface on impact.
"Explain yourself, Brother," Odin commanded in a neutral tone.
"I return from a most illuminating journey, Odin. Naturally I thought it best to deliver the fruits of my work. You requested a suitable new weapon. I have kept to our agreement."
A tanned warrior looking in between the two prince's ages, with thick braids over his head, reached forward and pulled away the weapon's wrappings. Charles eyes widened in surprise. Inside the worn and stained old pouch was a shining, immaculately polished, Mjölnir. It was brand new and when the councilor's fingers brushed the newly carved handle, a flicker of warm, green magic danced over its surface.
"I ask for a fitting weapon for our use and you deliver a hammer?" Odin challenged. "Is this one of your jests, Lord Loki? For I warn you, it is ill-timed."
"On the contrary, General. I bring you more than a hammer. I have perfected it upon my return, with my own workings. Only a warrior who is worthy to wield such power as this weapon posesses shall be capaple of lifting it. If your battle is just, I see no reason to find issue with my works," Lord Loki looked around at the Council. "After all I cannot believe that all the rumors I have heard of your little war could be true." He paused for a beat to let his words sink in, and well, Charles thought he must be imagining it, but he was feeling a strange sense of collusion with the elder Trickster. "Well then," Loki pressed his hands together, taking on the same false, amiable manner that he had exhibited before exposing the Jötun assassin earlier. "Who wishes to make the first attempt?"
The councilors all began murmuring amongst themselves. Odin jumped out of his seat and slammed both hands down on the tabletop. "Enough! Brother, I am in no mood for your games. You will return to the dwarves and rectify this if you do not wish for a night in the dungeons."
"Why? Do you fear that you could not lift it?" Lord Loki countered.
Odin glared at him. "Guards! Escort my brother to his cell."
"You will do no such thing," an old raspy voice corrected from the throne. Apparently, Bör was awake. "Loki has kept to his word, as always. We will accept his prize, in the spirit it was delivered."
Lord Loki bowed his head in deference to the old king. "Thank you, Sire."
"You will escort him to his chambers, where he will remain under guard until I might see him," Bör ordered.
"If I may, Sire," both Princes tried.
"You may not. Loki, I will see you in my own time and I will not have you swanning off to cause more trouble. The guards will see to you until then."
"Of course," Lord Loki accepted, then to Charles' shock and consternation, gave him a conspiratorial look. He was positive. Somehow, this memory, no this ghost, had become aware of him. As the Einherjar led Lord Loki out, he addressed Charles in a friendly whisper. "Oh, don't look so shocked. You should know by now, my friend: it is all lies."
A/N: Boom! Bet you weren't expecting that. Or I dunno, maybe you were. If so, how are you psychic? Sorry, I'm in a weird mood. Anyway, thanks for reading. Special thanks to hangwan000 and icanhearthedrums for taking the time to review. Really guys, you wouldn't believe how much it helps, especially during this busy time of the year.