In the full fortnight that had followed their argument, Loki didn't lower his shields for even a second and Reagan had absolutely no problem with that.

It took her days to stop feeling pure fury every time she thought about the interaction. She hadn't done anything wrong. She was certain she hadn't done anything wrong. It wasn't even as though he'd gotten angry at her about some jab she'd made at his expense. They'd been getting along.

That was the worst part of it, they'd actually been getting along. Reagan had just found herself beginning to think that maybe - just maybe - this link that had been forced upon them wouldn't be so impossible to endure after all when suddenly Loki had blown up at her for no reason and ruined everything. Any progress they'd made - any peace between the two of them - gone. Ripped to shreds.

And now that infernal icy barrier was back, ever present in the corner of her mind's eye.

And worse still, she had no idea why.

Part of Reagan wanted to speak to Frigga about him. To ask her for advice. To ask her exactly what the hell was the matter with him. But she ultimately decided against it because there was just something in her that couldn't bear to tell the woman that she and her son were once again at each other's throats. Or rather, completely ignoring one another's existence.

To distract herself from her unending frustration, Reagan had returned to the library. But she had not returned for the Midgardian books, they'd ended up being of little interest to her - mostly atlases and encyclopedias, works than indicated where Earth was up to in terms of its evolution as a society. Instead, she had borrowed as many books as she could carry about Asgard. She started with brief histories - stories about the Kings who had come before Odin, and she found herself rapidly becoming addicted to it. The more she learned, the more she wanted to learn. About their customs and beliefs, their treaties and the realms Asgard oversaw, their political systems, celebrations, the geography. Everything. She read about Mimisbrunnen, the well of knowledge where Odin had sacrificed one of his eyes in order to drink from the waters and receive wisdom. She learned of Medina, the lower city of Asgard full of bars and taverns where warriors often went to celebrate their victories for far longer than was ever sensible. And the Halls of Fear, a mystic realm where The Great Fear himself is said to lay in ancient slumber.

That's how Reagan found herself sitting cross-legged on a ledge in a quiet courtyard, bathed in afternoon light with an extremely heavy volume about Valhalla and the afterlife of the Gods perched in her lap. She'd found the spot a few days earlier and liked it because it was filled with Wisteria trees, dozens of tiny blue songbirds hidden within their branches. But best of all, and the reason Reagan had claimed it as her new reading place, was that it was peaceful, empty, hardly a soul passing through it in the days she'd occupied it.

Which is why she was so surprised when someone called her name.

"Hello, Reagan."

She looked up to see a familiar, smiling face.

"Fandral," she smiled. "How are you?"

She'd gotten on well with Fandral at the feast. He'd made a great deal of effort to make her feel included in their conversations, explaining any concepts for her that might be unfamiliar to a Midgardian. Which Loki had then thoroughly enjoyed correcting him on inside of her head. She'd often struggled to maintain her conversation with him, becoming distracted by squabbling with the trickster. But he was kind to her, and she found that she quite liked him. Which, admittedly, had come as a bit of surprise to her after she'd learned he called himself Fandral the Dashing - something Loki was rather merciless about.

She pushed the thought away.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"This is a nice little shortcut to the sparring grounds. Few people know about it. I suspect you've come to realise that."

She closed the book she was reading gently.

"The city is just so busy," she said. "It's nice to have found somewhere..."

"Peaceful?"

"Exactly."

Fandral leaned a little closer to read the title of the book balanced in her lap.

"The Halls of Valhalla."

He looked up at her and quirked an eyebrow questioningly and Reagan found herself mildly embarrassed.

"I just figured if I'm going to be stuck here, I should really start learning more about Asgard and its people."

Fandral smiled kindly.

"Well, I can think of no better way to learn the ways of our people than to visit the sparring grounds to see where our warriors are forged. Care to join me?"

"Yeah," Reagan said. "Yeah okay, that sounds kind of fun, actually."

She stood from her place perched on the stone ledge, hauling the enormous book with her.

"Please, allow me," Fandral insisted, taking the book from her in one hand as if it weighed nothing at all and Reagan found herself slightly envious.

"Thanks," she said appreciatively as she fell into step beside him, allowing him to lead the way.

"So," Fandral said. "Thor informed us that you've managed to come to some sort of peace agreement with Loki. Rumour had it things weren't going so well up unto recently."

Reagan tried her best not to scowl but she was fairly certain she failed. The last thing she wanted was to discuss Loki, but Fandral had been kind to her. All of Thor's friends had been. And they'd been merciful enough not to bring him up at all in conversation until now. It was only a matter of time before one of them felt the need to address the evil green-clad elephant in the room.

Reagan loosed a weary sigh.

"We had come to a kind of cease-fire for a while," Reagan replied. "But evidently it was to be short-lived."

"Ah, I see."

"He's just such an unbelievable pain in the ass!" Reagan exclaimed, suddenly grateful to have someone to vent to about him as a now very familiar frustration bubbled up to the surface once again. "The second I think I have him figured out, that I think I can see something human about him, he flips everything on its head and I feel like I'm about a thousand paces back from the starting line, let alone... He's just so frustrating. You know what he's like, he's your friend."

"Well, I'd hardly call him a friend," Fandral replied, sounding slightly scathed by the idea of it.

"Yeah sure, not now," Reagan corrected herself. "But he was, wasn't he? Before everything, I mean. Thor told me about the adventures you all used to go on."

Fandral hesitated, weighing his words.

"Yes, Loki certainly tagged along. Thor insisted they fight their battles side by side growing up. Thor loved him dearly. And you know we all hold Thor so dearly in our hearts, but Prince Loki on the other hand... let's just say it was no great loss to any of us when he disappeared off the edge of the Bifrost."

Reagan fell silent, a strange discomfort she couldn't quite place coiling in her stomach. She'd known that Loki held no great love for Thor's circle of friends, that much was evident on the night of the feast. But from the way Thor spoke about Loki - the way he was still so hurt by their recent falling out, Reagan had just figured it was a newfound disdain. But was it possible instead that Loki didn't really have any friends of his own? The texts Reagan had spent her days pouring over in the past few weeks all suggested that Loki was over a thousand years old. If that were true, it was an awfully long time to be lonely. But then, she considered, perhaps Loki just preferred it that way.

"Ah, here we are," Fandral said happily, stirring Reagan from her thoughts.

The stone corridors they'd been walking through opened out into a large sand-covered courtyard with various-sized pits all lined with shields and weapons. Fire pits were lit all around them and all the Asgardians there were clad in brilliant, shining armour. The sparring fields were surrounded by a backdrop of massive waterfalls in the distance - the sound of the crashing water adding to the air of battle alongside the clash of metal on metal. Reagan and Fandral stood together on a viewing balcony and the blonde offered Thor a wave when he spotted him. The God of Thunder's face lit up the moment he saw them.

"Reagan!" Thor exclaimed happily. It sent a wave of warmth through her, he was forever welcoming of her presence. "I was wondering if we might be graced here by your visit someday. Have you come to give our warriors a run for their money?"

Reagan laughed a little.

"Can't the average Asgardian lift something like 10 tonnes? Hardly sounds like a fair fight."

"Perhaps not for the average mortal, but one that wields fire…" Thor wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as if the idea of watching her set his soldiers aflame actually excited him.

Reagan couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm even as she gestured to a nearby bench. "Maybe so, but I still think I'll sit this one out. I'd hate for this dress to go up in flames."

Thor stilled, considering her.

"I remember the garments you wore in New York; they didn't quite withstand your powers either did they?"

"They held up okay considering, but no. It was a long fight and I burn hotter than any of the fabrics SHIELD had managed to synthesise yet."

Thor nodded pensively.

"We have some leathers that might do the job," he told her. "I'll have something arranged for you."

Reagan blinked in surprise. "That would be amazing, thank you."

Thor bowed his head to her in acknowledgement before returning to oversee the training warriors.

Reagan allowed her gaze to wander, surveying the sparring matches waging on all around her. From the smallest to the largest. They all moved with such grace, such power. It was no wonder that the army of Asgard was so formidable to its enemies. And she saw the way that each of them looked to Thor - with respect and admiration. There was no denying the people loved him.

It wasn't long before she noticed Fandral approach Thor and murmur something to him, causing both of them to glance her way. Reagan let out a low sigh as Thor approached her, his light, playful manner having shifted into something far sterner.

"So, I'm told things have taken yet another unpleasant turn between you and Loki," he said as he sat down beside her.

"I guess I should have pegged Fandral for a gossip," she replied with a small attempt at a smile.

"I'm to blame for that. I had asked him and the others to keep me informed if they heard you were facing any challenges. And Loki himself can be quite the challenge."

She scoffed. "Yeah, that's an understatement."

"I hope you know, in doing so, I had your best interests at heart," Thor told her gently, before gesturing to her covered forearm. "That mark, however unwanted it may be, it bonds us to. It makes us family."

His words elicited a deep pull of affection in her chest, and she nudged him affectionately with her shoulder. She believed him, about having her best interests in mind. And while part of her thought perhaps she should be angry that he was keeping tabs on her, it was actually nice to know that someone was looking out for her. It made her think of Natasha. It made her think of Clint. The way they'd always, unwaveringly, had her back.

"Would you like to discuss it?" Thor prompted softly.

And once again, Reagan had to sigh.

"I just don't understand him, Thor," she admitted at last. "Why is he so... hateful?"

Thor shifted his weight to rest his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together in front of him.

"He wasn't always that way. In fact, I hardly recognised him on Midgard. He's always had a penchant for chaos but never that rage."

Reagan studied his profile as he spoke, Thor's anguish at losing his brother painted on every line of his face. They were so different, right down to this. The way Thor wore his emotions so freely when Loki smothered them away at all costs. It seemed so impossible to her that they'd grown up together. How could one of them turn out like Thor only for the other to be... Loki.

"I was so sure I'd be able to reach him," Thor went on. "To bring him back from the darkness which has consumed his soul. I spend a great deal of time wondering if it would have been different - if my actions hadn't led to my banishment - if I could have been there with him when he discovered his true parentage-"

"His true parentage?" Reagan repeated, surprised. "Loki's adopted?"

Thor glanced over at her, uncertainly.

"You weren't aware?"

"No," she said softly.

Something strange stirred in the pit of her stomach, she wasn't quite sure what it was.

"But the briefing back on Midgard, with SHIELD we went over his history-"

"I wasn't given the initial briefing. I wasn't field tested, so I was never supposed to be involved. SHIELD didn't choose to put me on the board until the Chitauri started pouring out of that portal and they had to hit them with everything they had. Loki was your mission, mine was to help contain the aliens."

"I see."

"Wow... so, Odin isn't his real father?"

"Odin found him when he was just a baby, abandoned by his family, after a battle. My father brought him back to Asgard and my parents raised him as their own. He didn't discover the truth until just a few years ago when I was banished to Midgard."

Reagan got the distinct sense that Thor was omitting something, but she pressed on, wanting to know more.

"And you never knew?"

Thor shook his head. "Not until after I returned from my banishment. After Loki had tried to kill me. After he fell. And then it was too late, he was lost to us."

A memory flashed through Reagan's mind suddenly, of something she heard. One of her first moments in Asgard, in experiencing the bond, hearing what Loki could hear.

Frigga is the only reason you're still alive and you will never see her again.

A chill swept down the length of Reagan's spine.

"Even after what he tried to do to me, and learning the truth, I still believed him to be my brother. Even in New York, I was certain I'd be able to get through to him. We grew up together. Played together. Fought together. Odin had raised us both as equals - to be rulers-"

"Both of you..."

Reagan paused, thinking back to the way Odin spoke about Loki at the feast with a pang of guilt - she'd laughed about it, but so had he. And it was all too clear that Thor couldn't see it.

She looked over at him to find him watching her.

She offered him a small, sad smile and reached out to squeeze his hand comfortingly.

"I'm sorry for what you've had to go through," she told him sincerely. "Both of you."

And she was surprised to find that she truly meant it.

When Reagan found herself back amongst the towering shelves of countless books once again, she found herself thirsty for knowledge about something else. Something she'd been trying not to give in to since she'd discovered the Great Library.

For a long while she wandered amongst the shelves, idly, hoping she might come across something else that might pique her interest - distract her.

It appeared, as was now often the case with her, that fate had other plans.

"Would you like some help there, my dear?"

Reagan turned to find a woman watching her. She was dressed in the red garments of the library keepers, though she was far older than the other Asgardians who Reagan had seen working amongst the shelves. Despite her greyed hair and wrinkled skin, she had a powerful frame, and she towered much taller than Reagan. Her features were hard, and set, though there was a kindness to her eyes.

"Hi," Reagan said softly, glancing around to ensure no one was listening. "I was wondering if you had any books I could borrow about... about the Mark of Sjelevii?"

The woman watched her for a few moments before her features took the form of a knowing smile.

"I was wondering when you might pay us a visit for such a purpose," the woman told her. "Follow me."

Reagan fell into step behind the woman who moved with surprising swiftness. They walked for a while, the woman silently plucking books from the shelf. She did so with such expertise in their locations that it almost seemed like she was picking them at random. It gave Reagan the impression that this woman had in fact, very much been waiting for her visit. She watched her curiously.

Soon the woman led her to a table where she set down the stack of books and began sorting through them. Reagan approached, a little hesitantly, watching as she worked. She thumbed through the pages of the first book until she found what she was looking for and she placed it on the table, turning it towards Reagan.

"Here we have the story of Kaha and Liiva, the first bearers," she told her.

"The creators," Reagan added.

"Correct," the woman glanced up at her, watching as Reagan came closer again, gazing down at the page, looking at the image of the two.

"The Queen told me their story when she explained to me what the marks meant."

"Alright, well then of course we have many others. Their stories are all well documented. How they found each other, their lives together, the children they bore."

Reagan wrapped her arms around herself uncomfortably.

"Do you- do you know of any books where the Mark was wrong?" She glanced cautiously at the woman.

"Ah," the woman smiled kindly before closing the book and taking a seat at the table she'd set the stack upon. "I take it the young Prince has not put his best foot forward since the bond came to be. I'd expect nothing less from the sweet fool."

There was a warmth to her words - a familiarity.

"You know him?"

"I do indeed," she smiled. "I've known him for a very long time."

"And... And you like him?"

Reagan grew hesitant and the woman seemed to sense it. She pulled out the chair beside her and gestured for Reagan to sit, once again wearing a kind smile.

"My name is Sygran, dear. And I met Prince Loki when he was just a boy back when I worked in the palace kitchens. He'd been tasked by the other children to steal the head of the boar being prepared for the King's name day. The boy, forever outdone by his brother was so determined to succeed, so focused on his task that he didn't even notice me standing on the opposite side of the bench preparing the carrots. He snuck up on the boar as if he might spook it away. Just as I saw him reaching out to take it, unaware of who he was, I took up a nearby loaf of bread and clobbered him over the head with it. I'm sure you can imagine my horror when I looked down at him to find I had just assaulted the crown Prince, but Loki thought it was marvellously funny. He was so much happier back then."

Reagan watched as the woman smiled fondly at the memory.

"I insisted he take the boar, I would say I ruined the meal and face the consequences, but Loki insisted instead that I give him some treats he might take back to his friends instead. I gave him every sweet and treacle tart and cookie he could carry and then some. I never expected to see him again, but a week later he came back and gifted me a songbird by way of thanks - and to con me into giving him a few more cookies, of course."

Reagan couldn't help but return the smile that wouldn't leave the older woman's face.

"He visited me often after that, coming for sweets but also, I suspect, wanting the company. He never did fit in with the other children. He has such a sharp mind, he's always seen things differently to the rest them. I think he liked sitting, and speaking with me as I baked because he didn't have anyone to compete with there, he didn't have anyone to prove himself to. Though he does credit me for developing such skilful stealth. He assured me he was determined to ensure no one ever snuck up on him with a bread loaf again."

The two women laughed. Reagan was rapidly deciding she was quite fond of the woman.

"He had me reassigned here when my hands became too stiff to keep kneading all that dough anymore," Sygran went on. "The sweet thing insisted I retire instead but I like to keep busy, and he knew I dearly love to read."

"That was kind of him," Reagan admitted.

"I think his penchant for kindness would surprise a great many people, especially now. He was always so good to me, but I saw him grow colder as he grew older all thanks to that idiot King of ours."

Reagan felt her eyebrows shooting towards her hairline before she even realised it was happening.

Sygran shot her a knowing smirk.

"Have I offended you?"

"Not at all," Reagan assured her quickly, a matching smile slowly blooming on her features. "I just haven't heard anyone else talk about him like that. The people seem to love him."

"Don't be fooled, I once did too," Sygran assured her. "But the more I got to know the Prince, the more my disdain grew for that wretched man."

"What do you mean?" Reagan asked.

"It took only a pair of working eyes to see the way Odin always favoured Prince Thor," Sygran explained. "He was more like him in every way and Odin adored him for it, doted on him, celebrated him. Loki was always second to him and I fear that he never understood why. That is until..."

"Until he found out that Odin wasn't his real father," Reagan concluded for her.

"The poor dear. I sorely wish I could have spoken to him when he learned the truth. I wish he had come to seek me out."

Sygran fell quiet, allowing Reagan to gather her thoughts.

"Loki expects people to see the worst in him," Sygran told her gently. "I'm no fool, girl. I've heard the things he did on Midgard. And they were terrible, terrible things. But you must understand that a great pain must have driven him to act so."

Reagan had to bite her tongue. Plenty of people were in pain, and they didn't do the things he did.

"I was hopeful when I heard that he bore the mark, that he'd found you. And I'm hopeful still. I think if he gave himself the chance to let you in, and you did the same in kind, you each might find something there you were sorely missing until now."

Reagan hesitated, unsure of how to respond to that.

Sygran watched her for a few moments before she slid the books she'd collected towards her.

"Take these," she insisted gently. "Read the tales. The mark is never wrong, dear. Trust it."

Reagan reached slowly for the books, running her fingers along the spines as she contemplated all she'd learned about Loki in his absence.

"Promise me one thing?" Sygran asked, placing a motherly hand on Reagan's knee to capture her attention.

"What's that?"

"Any hell he gives you, give it back to him tenfold."

Reagan laughed at that, surprised.

"Oh, believe me, that's all I've been trying to do.

Sygran winked at her, satisfied.

"Yes," she said. "I'd expect nothing less."

Reagan shot bolt upright in her bed, gasping for breath at the horrifying images that crashed over her.

Pain.

Torment.

Overwhelming fear.

And that cruel, cruel laugh that turned her very bones to ice.

They kept coming, the images just keep coming. Relentless, overwhelming.

It wasn't like the first time, this time she knew the images weren't her own. The fear wasn't her own.

Loki, she called gently, reaching down the bond as she inhaled shaking breaths.

Another flash of pain, of darkness, of desperation.

Loki, it's okay. You need to wake up. It's not real.

She reached further down the bond, searching for him, for his consciousness.

Let me help you.

She had to force herself not to shrink away from the terror, the flashes of despair.

Loki, it's me. It's Reagan. Please, wake up.

It was like the snap of an elastic band. So suddenly he was awake, and his attention was zeroed in on her. The fear she felt from him then, the anger, it was like watching a vicious animal that had just found itself trapped by a predator.

It's okay, she promised gently.

The shame came then, quick, unyielding and Reagan found herself cringing away from it. And when the barrier between them slammed back down in place Reagan had to fight against the lump in her throat at the faintest whisper of loneliness that she caught right before the shields came down.

She knew he hadn't done that on purpose - that he would never have shown her something like that willingly, something so private, personal. But she hated him for it.

Because it felt just like her own loneliness. Ever present, crushing. And even if it pained her to admit it, her interactions with Loki for those few days, when he'd been helping her, guiding her, it had left her feeling a little less alone.

She was so sick of feeling like an outsider.

And not just on Asgard.

But back at SHIELD when she first got her powers.

Even in her own family.

She cut the thought short just as she always did when thoughts of her father threatened to invade her mind. But this time it wasn't such an impossible task because this time her mind wandered instead to Odin.

Odin, who wasn't Loki's real father.

Odin, who had referred to his children as Thor, my son and heir and the traitor, Loki.

Odin, who had told him Frigga is the only reason you are still alive and you will never see her again.

The thought of it made her feel ill. She shouldn't have cared. She didn't want to care. But there was just something about it that niggled away at her, something she just couldn't make peace with.

Reagan's brow furrowed slightly when she felt the barrier shifting again. It was different this time, it wasn't intentional. She knew what it felt like when he let her in on purpose. Instead, it was like it was slipping away, melting.

Tentatively, Reagan bushed against the link and found herself floating in a confusing swirl of images.

Dreams, she soon realised.

Loki? She called softly, carefully.

There was no response, just the swell of disjointed images. Though this time they were peaceful.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since their fight in the library; since his barrier had been set in place. Had he remained awake all this time just to block her out until exhaustion finally overtook him?

Reagan retreated from the bond and sat back up in bed. She reached for the book on her nightstand, opening it to the bookmarked page to help her ground herself in her own mind. She knew this was an opportunity she wasn't likely to see again - the chance to explore Loki's unfiltered thoughts - but she found she just didn't have it in her to do something so ugly.

She lifted her hand above the book and summoned forth her flames to illuminate the page and soon fell back into the flow of the story - the tale of Hamirr and Isolde, bearers of the mark who found one another on opposite sides of the battlefield. Their bond had snapped into place just as Hamirr had taken hold of Isolde, ready to deliver the killing blow. They had frozen and stared into each other's eyes for mere seconds before each had taken up their weapons to protect the other from their own people. The battle had ceased around them as they'd called for their companions to understand what had happened. And the battlefield had soon fallen silent, and the pair had never parted from that moment on. Their bond had ceased not only a battle but had brought forth peace treaties between two kingdoms that had been at war for three thousand years.

As Reagan read, she allowed her mind to brush the link intermittently, ensuring that Loki was still resting soundly.

She just wanted peace she told herself. She didn't want to have to see those images again - she'd remain awake for a while so he could rest and if he fell into those nightmares again, she could put a stop to it, rouse him, spare herself having to ensure it again. And so, she read into the early hours of the morning, reassuring herself that there was nothing about the tricker's peaceful slumber that eased some small tension in her soul.