Trust Me

After the excitement of somehow finding herself in Norway, Melody was actually glad to be home. She was happy to return to what had been a mindless routine of simply existing. A nice quiet life with no wild adventures or mischievous Gods was exactly what she wanted. She’d never wanted to be a hero and was terrified of being labeled a villain.

Sure, she’d always wanted to know more about what she was and Loki had offered that potential, but she’d run from it. She didn’t regret it, or so she told herself.

She absolutely didn’t mind being just a regular person. Right?

For months she happily continued her routine, living as normal a life as she could manage. The world seemed a little less bleak after her magical trip, which was a pleasant change, and that was enough for her.

Except, after a long shift, she came home to an unannounced and unwanted visitor. 

She paused in the doorway to her apartment, blinking at the sight before her. She opened her mouth to speak, realized her door was still wide open, and moved to quickly close and lock it. Heart racing she turned back to her guest, frowning in confusion.

"I took the liberty of letting myself in when you didn't answer your door. I do hope you don't mind." He shot her an insincere smile and slid the drawer he'd been looking through shut.

"Were you not expecting me? This is what we agreed when I helped you return home." The statement was taking a few liberties. What they had in fact agreed was that Melody would owe him for his hospitality and his help sending her back from whence she came. They hadn't discussed specifics, but this, it was safe to assume, was not what Melody had envisioned.

He sauntered past her in the direction of her kitchen, having already mapped out the layout of the entire apartment before she'd arrived.

Mantis gave the other time to explain his side of the story, watching him with a tilt of her head. Eyes downcast, the empath wrung her hands, a flicker of sadness crossing her face.

"I understand you do not want to tell a complete stranger the truth," she said softly, having been able to glimpse Loki's emotions while he was unconscious, "yet I cannot help but think that pirates and scavengers might leave destruction behind, but not like that."

She stepped closer to the other, hands still clasped politely in front of her.

He resisted the urge to match the step she took towards him with a step backwards, his hands clenching momentarily into fists at his sides. She was trying to be comforting, friendly, but he would have preferred bare faced hostility. At least then he would know where he stood. This was... unnerving.

"Loki." He said finally, after letting several long seconds of silence stretch between them.

Francis gave Loki a wink, now fully convinced the situation between the two was more than just a business arrangement. "Now, Mina, since when have you hidden your trysts."

For a brief moment she looked agitated, but quickly decided this was the correct path to take. "I wouldn't call him a tryst, Papa." Gemina reached over and patted Loki on the arm. "I met him on vacation a while back, we had a lovely time."

"Oh, while you were--,"

"Yes, while I was in Italy. We met at this lovely museum and reconnected here at the party. I just-.. I didn't want you to get the wrong idea."

Francis nodded, eyes still flickering between the two.

"The.. Wrong idea?" He questioned, that sly little smile pulling back at the corner of his lips. "You know, I'm getting too old to be wandering these damnable parties. Be a good grandchild and go fetch me another drink." Francis held back a chuckle at the way her smile quickly became hostile. "Please." It was less of a request and more of a command - one that both of them understand.

And one that Gemina despised.

Yet, she had appearances to keep up and keeping Loki a secret was less important than ensuring she remained on the old vampire's good side.

"Fine." As she stood, slipping her hand away from Loki, she cast him a smile that was easily understood as a threat by anyone with eyes. "You behave now, my darling." With that hiss she walked away towards the other side of the room, pushing through crowds of people to fetch what had been requested.

Once she was properly out of earshot Francis laughed fondly and shook his head. "Mean as an old guard dog." He muttered before looking towards Loki again. Gone was the warm familiarity he'd shown Gemina. He was sharper, more present as he leaned back in his chair and sighed.

"The key to our Little Miss Mina is that she's a damn good liar when she's telling you the truth. She'll weave you a story that's just left of what actually happened and by god will you eat from her hand for it. Hell, she's gotten me a few times with it." He tilted his head to the side, visibly examining every inch of the other man before huffing.

"This is not one those times. Care to try your luck in the poker game, son, or would you rather just tell me what you two kids have been up to?"

Francis was charismatic, that was beyond question. Loki was sure the majority of people he came across were charmed by him, and had Loki not grown up in a court full of people trying to charm him for their own ends, he certainly would have been taken in by it as well.

The point that Loki did find himself warming to Francis- in contrast he was sure to how anyone with any intact reason might have felt- was the point he let a little of the act drop.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. Playing against an opponent with what could be many times my life experience under his belt would be exceptionally foolhardy." If Francis assumed he was young, perhaps even within the bounds of the brief flicker that was an ordinary human lifespan, it would have been impolite to do anything other than play along.

"Are you this demanding of every merchant who comes into your Capital?" She asked with a slight tilt of her head. The mask had yet to crack, but behind it her panic was creeping into every vein.

Her grey eyes darted past the two men standing in front of her. Even if she ran, as quick as she was, she had no doubt that magic and archery would be faster. Huffing, she yanked back the bag she had offered and reached into the bag at her side.

"Fine. Here. Look."

With slight of hand she pushed some of the papers in the satchel to the side, revealing scrawled notes detailing the city and the grounds she'd walked around. She then held it out, but did not allow it to be pulled from her body or hands.

"My employer requested a description of the culture here as he's never visited himself. He wanted to ensure that we were displaying ourselves properly, so I keep detailed receipts of everywhere I go and the people I interact with."

A single crack appeared - only visible to those fast enough to catch it. Her jaw tensed, teeth clenching down after her lie. "Now may I please leave?"

He flipped through the papers in the bag, skimming them with a practiced eye. Not the sort of papers an innocent woman would be carrying around in wartime, but not necessarily incriminating by themselves.

In a flash of silver, he drew a dagger from within the folds of his cloak and sliced into the lining of the bag without giving her a chance to protest. He drew out a few coins- not Asgardian, he noted- which he dropped unceremoniously into the main compartment of the bag, and then another sheaf of papers, carefully folded and flattened to be as inconspicuous within the lining as possible.

Guard schedules, military bases, the movements of notable figures (including some of his own habits, which was alarming), and even detailed sketches of the outside of the palace itself were laid out on the pages. How she had managed to get close enough to produce something so accurate, Loki would need to find out. But for tonight, this was all the evidence he needed.

"I suppose you have justification for these as well," he remarked, folding the papers back up and tucking them into a pocket.

Making matters more baffling, a bright orange cartoon clock muscled in physically next to this B-15 woman and waved at the two Lokis.

"Hi, fellas. Uh, Miss B-15, ma'am, not to get the boss in trouble, but he asked me to suppress some of his memories for a little while so he could go visit a timeline."

"What?" B-15 snipped, shifting her glare from the clock to him. "Why the hell would he go and do that?"

"Well..." The clock cleared her throat and stage whispered behind her hand, perfectly clear to Asgardian and probably even human ears. "He didn't want to freak anyone out by knowing he was a big G."

"Look, whatever joke you're playing whoever you are, we're not amused. You've got ten seconds before I squash this thing."

The appearance of the cartoon clock actually made him feel more so.

He was rather tempted to smash the device himself and be done with the whole bizarre affair, but these destructive thoughts were swiftly redirected to a new target as the clock addressed him as 'other Loki'. He liked that even less than not being addressed at all.

He turned the full force of his glare on the clock (or on the image on the screen at least), only to receive an equally forceful one back. He narrowed his eyes and she did the same hands on where he supposed her hips would be if he had to assign the label to somewhere on her anatomy.

With the impromptu staring contest getting him nowhere, he sighed irritably, folding his arms.

"Fine. Where did I hide things when I was a child?"

The clock scoffed.

Gemina's brows furrowed further. There was no hiding the visible contemplation on her features as she stared him down. "Fine. You take command of my men, but with it you take responsibility for their safety. They are not mindless drones to be discarded." She lingered for a moment before turning away and walking towards her kitchen.

Given the open concept she was consistently in his view. Something she was acutely aware of.

"I'll send with you some of my better men." She raised her voice to ensure she was heard clearly while her back was turned. The clattering of dishes filled the quiet behind her voice, only to be exchanged by running water as she began to fill a tea kettle.

"They'll know what I expect and in return will protect you as best they can. I will know you've betrayed me if none of them return." Three singular clicks on the old stove before flames briefly cast her face in an orange glow before the kettle was placed upon it. "Given that I am the only person who seems to speak this language.."

Beyond the cultists themselves.

"I have a feeling I'll be greeting you here again." She turned to watch him from across the room again. "This leaves just one little question between us.."

She walked forward, but this time made no attempt to invade his space. The distance was comfortable - and though Loki may not have realized it - was evidence of her growing comfort with him.

"What are you hoping to find out from all of this?"

He watched her as she worked in the kitchen, staying where he was and allowing her the space that frankly he could use as well. He eyed the kettle on the stove with interest, a number of questions springing to mind. He'd never seen her eat or drink anything other than presumed blood, and it seemed somehow odd to see her doing something so mundane as boiling a kettle.

Was she making tea? Or was the water for something else?

"I expect you will," he agreed, noting the continued space between them, but unable to parse any meaning from it. He considered her question for a few moments, studying her with a critical expression.

"Honestly?" He said, finally. "I don't know. When we first met I thought I might find something that I could use. Or at least study to further my knowledge of magic. But now... answers, I suppose." He gave a wry smile. "I was telling the truth when I told you I'm an academic. I don't like to be ignorant and my curiosity is overruling my better judgement."

"Well, whatever you intended, there's no denying it was impressive. Perhaps you and I should stick together until we find something that can get these things out before they do something worse? My name is Astarion."

Getting away from the wreckage was a priority. What to do about the parasite thing was another matter. Whatever it was going to do to him compared with burning in the sun or going back to Cazador were terrible options.

"Thank you," he said, preening a little in response to the compliment despite himself. "Under the circumstances, perhaps we should. I am Loki."

He winced as what could only be a small explosion sounded within the wreckage.

"To riches, mate. Treasure ships what have been hitherto undiscovered after spilling their bellies on the reef. I'd wager not all of it be lost deeper than a man can swim."

It was all completely theoretical, however. For the moment, he had no intention of being quite so helpful.

"That's a lot of risk for theoretical riches," he observed mildly, staring out at the vast expanse of ocean surrounding them. "But I suppose if it were easy, there would be no theoretical riches left."

"Well, you are not just paying for the wine, but also for my company. I've been told that is worth quite a bit." He mused, a light grin on his lips before nodding. "My cooking might be considered quite basic, but I have to say that I rather enjoy it." Steve spoke softly.

He had been raised in another time, was used to the foods of another time. And while he had adapted, he still enjoyed the simplicity of foods as they had once been and so, he made his stews in the ways his mother had. Sure, the ingredients weren't quite the same, but nonetheless, it still brought him comfort.

Loki had turned his attention to his own plate, but paused, glancing back up again as he felt Steve's eyes on him. Finding himself suddenly the sole subject of the other man's rather rapt attention, he raised a questioning brow.

"As is mine, judging by the way you're staring at me," he observed with a teasing smile. "Not that I'm complaining, of course. I don't blame you." It was remarkable how at ease he felt here, sitting across from a man who, on paper at least, he should clash with. He was exactly the sort of man that a younger Loki would have deliberately antagonised, but there was something about Steve that invited jests rather than jibes.

He took a bite, and made an appreciative sound. It reminded him of ordinary meals back in Asgard when he was a child, inherently comforting in its simplicity.

Drax had mentioned that Loki had a remarkable collection of blades, and Mantis decided she had to see that for herself. It was impressive indeed, though Mantis had felt compelled to say something to announce her presence and not startle the other.

Technically, Loki was right – no one was safe anywhere. Danger could find anyone. Mantis was merely referring to emotional safety, unless Loki was bothered by the Guardians' constant bickering.

"I try to make you feel comfortable because you seem uncomfortable," she replied matter-of-factly. "Except now. You seem comfortable with that dagger." Mantis took a small step closer, arms wrapped around one of her books. "It's beautiful! Where is it from?"

Loki debated the merits of being as belligerent as possible, perhaps using the convenient array of daggers set in front of him to add to the effect, but after a few moments decided against it. Like it or not, he was at the mercy of Mantis and her companions for the moment, and he doubted starting an argument with her would be as satisfying as he wanted it to be.

"It is," he agreed, setting about cleaning the blade even though it didn't really need it. The familiar routine of weapon maintenance was the first thing that had settled him since he'd first arrived on the ship.

"This one was a gift. Judging by the workmanship, it's probably from Nidavellir, but I can't be certain. It was a few decades ago and I remember being more interested in the enchantments added after forging at the time."