#loki multi chapter

Emotionally naked.

Vulnerable.

Stripped bare.

You would be there. You assured him. He hadn’t needed your promise. It was a given. He knew it. And he didn’t take any of it for granted. Yet it did little to quell his nausea at the thought of the world knowing and then dissecting his innermost thoughts and the past actions he felt so ashamed of.

He thought the shame would eat him alive.

He tried not to think about it.

And so. He didn’t. Not while you were together.

After confessing his fears to you, a safety opened up and your trust deepened. Softened. Melted. Thawed any remaining apprehension or delay in either of you. You filled your days with music, reading, films, tea, long conversations and elegant dance in front of floor-to-ceiling glass, the maroon of the setting sun bleeding across the city skyline like ink on a canvas. It was a tutorial on how we dance on Asgard, he had said.

He hadn’t danced like that in centuries.

The summer blazed on in the city below, the finale of the late August sun giving its encore to stockbrokers, influencers, firefighters and taxi drivers alike, some walking into the city’s heat after the respite of the subway and into air conditioned offices. Like your lawyer friend. The only lawyer you knew that wasn’t a liar. The one you trusted enough to advise Loki, your old Nokia holding up throughout the hour-long call to his office line.

“If you have proof, if you have a witness like you say you do, we go the defamation route. Best case scenario, she calls off her trial. Worst case – your trial goes ahead instead of hers. You haven’t lost anything.”

Loki nodded, thoughtful fingertips toying with his lips as he so often did during thought. He would sue Jade for defamation, he decided. He proceeded with the papers. It hit the press. Despite Loki’s concerns, it was a story for a day then fizzled like the ending of a November firework display. The real circus would erupt during the trial. Besides. You had a guerilla campaign to execute. And no pesky PR people in the tower to exchange forced smiles with and drain your energy.

It was a Tuesday afternoon when an excitable scientist informed you of Thor’s video, his lilting tones blaring through the tiny speakers of your burner phone. He was enthusiastic about the breakthrough in cosmic comms, as he should be, while you were thrilled to kick-start the campaign. You texted Steve, Nat and Jess – it was time.

The video of Thor ‘leaked’ on Banner’s Instagram Live, under the guise of the doctor animatedly telling a colleague about the discovery and not realising he was streaming live to millions. To test his new technology, he was contacting Thor to update him about life on earth. Thor had asked after those he cared about, including his brother – or so Banner told the press scrum camped outside The University of Manchester. Thor was stunned to find out about his brother’s predicament and began talking about Loki’s character, naturally. Definitely not pre-planned by a communications professional. Absolutely not. Just an accidentally recorded conversation with a scientist and his Asgardian friend.

Nobody asked why the phone was propped up facing the screen. Or questioned who provided the televised media with a hi-res version of the video.

Steve was up next. He posted his statement, accompanied by an official Avengers team photo, on his Facebook page. You had insisted only old age pensioners used the platform now and suggested Instagram at least. He told you he liked Facebook. As a final flex, he reminded you of his biological age. You reneged.

It wasn’t a competition. If it was, Natasha surely won. Her Tiktok video, several weeks in the making, went live and instantly viral. A compilation of sweet, hilarious moments with her and Loki in 0.7x speed to a rousing rendition of I’ll Stand by You by The Pretenders coaxed tears from even the most hardened social media eyes.

In just-a-little-slower-than-life speed viewers saw Loki laughing, jazz hands towards the camera as it shook with Natasha’s own laughter, before the God ran towards Steve in the form of a Siberian Tiger, prompting the soldier to spill coffee over his baby blue t-shirt and hold a shaky hand to his chest. Within mere moments, Loki returned to his normal form. In the clip, Steve stomped his feet and muttered “Darn it!” It was subtitled, credit to Natasha’s editing brilliance. The camera shook and eventually fell from her hand as Loki ran back to her giggling like a child.

In another clip, unseen by the public up until this point, Natasha’s pale face, drained from injury and battle, smiled weakly at the camera and waved. She was in a hospital bed. She panned her phone to cards and flowers from the team, including a bouquet from Loki – Siberian fawn lilies. I told him once they reminded me of home, read the subtitle.

Another video showed pert butt cheeks beneath thick black fabric, Loki’s enviable side profile on display as shined shoes stood on a red carpet, elegant fingers signing autographs for a long line of fans resting against a metal barrier. He kneeled, respectfully kissing the hand of a 20-something in glasses, hair tied back modestly. Several signatures later, a burly security guard placed thick fingers on his back and ushered the God forwards. He held out a hand of apology to disappointed fans.

ONE HOUR LATER

The subtitle announced the return of the Asgardian, rushing back towards his admirers with arms outstretched to them. He took photos, signed for them, and hugged any and all who wanted it. They all wanted it. He even fished a small handy-pack of Kleenex from the inside of his suit, offering it to a teenager who was sneezing, clearly braving the elements to see her favourite despite feeling under the weather. Natasha’s text informed us:

He stayed for hours.

Followed by:

It was -5c.

The next clip was different. It wasn’t a video. It was a still photo of a bruised forearm. Loki’s. White text gave context. He stopped a beam falling on me. The photo faded. Grainy bodycam footage, initially obscured by its owner’s red-and-blue shield, showed Natasha crossing her arms over herself in brace position as a concrete beam fell. It shattered into pieces only several feet above her, blocked by outstretched arms covered in black and green leather. Loki shielded her with his body, holding his protective posture long enough to ensure the threat had ceased, turning his head sharply in all directions. Satisfied, he stood, offering his hand. He surveyed her suit with his eyes, checking for rips, tears and abrasions. Deciding she was without injury, he embraced her.

The very last image was a team photo of smiling Avengers in full armour, the original six plus Loki. The photograph remained on screen while poignant lyrics sounded.

Take me into your darkest hour

And I’ll never desert you

I’ll stand by you

Won’t let nobody hurt you

I’ll stand by you

It faded to black. White text faded in.

#IStandWithLoki

You were surprised TikTok didn’t crash with the sheer force, frequency and volume of comments:

Swoon

THIS is my Loki.

Finally!! Enough of the media fearmongering, THIS is the real Loki.

He’s a good man. Nay – a good GOD!

See, he’s soft really.

I knew he was a baby on the inside.

He is actually perfect.

Nat, you okay?? How you still standing girl.

Jade is gonna burn.

I’ve got a new name for Winters – Worst Woman In The World. Awful.

Karma is a GOD. Jade’s gonna pay.

Each person ended their comment with the same declaration.

#IStandWithLoki

#IStandWithLoki

#IStandWithLoki

It trended on TikTok. It spread to Twitter. It was the number one trending topic worldwide all day. And the next day. As well as the day after that. Fans rushed to their social media channel of choice with videos, photos and stories about their experience meeting Loki. It made Jessie’s posts look organic. Your Mancunian friend had gathered ten people, from advertising industry execs, stunt women, security, choreographers, and even former lovers – #DiamondBraceletCrew, a tag that thankfully didn’t gain traction – to come forward and say their piece. Nobody had a bad word to say about him.

It took on a life of its own. You couldn’t stop it. Even if requested to do so by a billionaire.

Tony knew you were the driving force.

He had to.

But it was too late.

The truth was out.

Loki wasn’t the monster he was painted to be.

You sat with him, hand on his shoulder, as he sat on the edge of his bed and stared at his plasma screen, duct tape-repaired remote control in hand, watching Thor’s video playing on the news for the world to see.

Loki is of Asgard, and he is my brother. Loki fought alongside me to save our people, he battled with us against Thanos, he is the very reason the Titan fell. My brother is not entirely without fault – he is a trickster. But he has a good soul. He has heart. And he would never harm a helpless human. You have my word, Midgard. On Odin’s beard.

“You did this,” Loki croaked through the tears gushing like a river over his devastating cheekbones. “You created this….” He embraced you. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And it wasn’t hard to find advocates, I promise you.”

“Ah, but in your brilliance, you weren’t gathering advocates but rather, witnesses.”

You frowned. “Loki I don’t follow.”

“The people who spoke out. They are our witnesses. For the defamation trial. I understand it wasn’t intentional. But that speaks to the layers of your wisdom.” He looked at you as though you may shatter, resting a hand on your cheek before kissing you. “Thank you.”

You placed your hand on his chest, fighting the urge screaming in every cell of your body to push him back onto the bed and mount him. Frustrated fingers wound his white t-shirt into a bunch instead.

“I know, my love. I know.” He rested his forehead on yours, intertwining his fingers with your own, teasing them from their locked position on his chest.

“Hey,” you started. “Do you remember when you’d meet a woman and fuck her ten minutes later? Remember those days? Oh how I long for those days.” You coaxed a chuckle from his throat before continuing. “I guess I…. I’m just trying to understand what changes if we wait.”

Loki sighed, long and hard. He stood, walking down the side of this bed and stopping at his nightstand. He removed an item, closing the drawer behind him. He held a business card in his hand.

The LL cards. That’s what he’s worried about.

“Problematic sexual behaviour,” he announced.

“Hmm?” You looked over your shoulder. He returned to you, sitting beside you on the bed.

“That’s what my therapist called it. I telephoned her the evening Jade accosted me. Immediately after. She can vouch for this.”

“You, erm….” You blew out a breath, attempting to remain calm. “You had an alibi this whole time.”

“Well, yes. But I didn’t feel the need to prove it to you. You believed me. Until you didn’t, and then I felt nothing in this world would convince you.”

He’s not wrong.

“And what did she say to you. That night.”

He held the card aloft, puncturing the air and punctuating a point. “She reminded me of this. The details she gave me.” He passed the card to you. “It’s a treatment center.”

The words blurred in front of your eyes. “It’s in Arizona.”

“Phoenix, yes. Predictably.”

“Oh. Okay….”

“I’m, umm…. I’m still getting them. The flashbacks. From the attack on our ship. They’re worse at night.”

“Are they worse because you’re no longer able to numb them.”

“Yes. I believe so. And because I finally have chance to feel the gravity of what happened.”

“That’s why you used to drink. And…”

“Fuck. Yes.”

“But you’re very self-aware. You know you’re doing it, and why.”

“Yes but doesn’t that make it worse? Even more shameful? That I know what I do and still I cannot stop.”

“Loki, it….” You rested a gentle hand on his thigh and looked into his eyes. “It sounds like addiction.”

He frowned. Not in distaste. But with intrigue. “How would one define addiction.”

“Well, the best way I heard it described is this – it’s the inability to stop a behaviour despite the negative impact it’s having on your life.”

“Yes. That carries. And how is it that you came to be so knowledgeable on the subject. Your psychology degree, yes?”

“Loki, I’m…. Loki I’m sober. Nearly ten years.”

“O-oh….”

“The apple juice in a wine glass. It’s not just because I’m working. It’s because I have to look like I’m drinking so that nobody questions it. It just…. it makes life easier, is all.”

“I did not realise. I apologise.” He glanced at your hand on his forearm. Without a thought, he knelt before you. “Petal. I cannot be the man you deserve. Not yet. But I will be. I need…. I need time. Please.”

“I understand. Believe me. I do.”

“Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, eliciting a sigh of need from both of you.

“How long is the treatment program.”

“Three months. But. They allow visitors once per month. I would love if you would be my visitor.”

“Are we talking conjugal visits or what,” you quipped with a chuckle.

“It’s a sexual rehabilitation center, you minx.” Strong hands rested on your thighs as he stood, kissing your forehead. “So no, I doubt they permit fucking.”

“Wanking?”

“Unlikely.”

“You’re fucked, then.”

“No I’ll simply dream of being fucked. By you. And – ”

“You’re actually trying to kill me, aren’t – ”

“…. and walking around the place with a permanent hard-on.”

You let out a groan of frustration, leaning back to grab a pillow and wailing into it. Loki laughed. As recompense, you pretended to smother him with it. He wrestled you with mock seriousness and pinned you down on the bed, straddling you. “Now. My naughty little flower.” He began to grind into you, still fully clothed. You whined. “We do have something to resolve.”

“Does it involve fucking.”

“No.”

“Then I’m not interested.”

He grabbed the pillow, you squealing playfully as he held it over you. “I’ll call it a crime of passion darling!”

“Well that’s a load of bullshit given there is NO passion!”

“Umm, excuse me, we are rather passionate about one another, I’ll have you know.”

The raging erection visible through his black jeans confirmed his comments. You made a noise Loki compared to ‘an Asgardian boar’ as you flopped your arms to the side in resignation.

“Breathe, love.”

“If you tell me to calm down, I swear to God, Loki….” You draped a forearm over your eyes, no longer able to bear the devastating six-feet of eroticism towering above you.

“I’m quite serious.” His voice was calm. Meditative. “Please. Breathe for me. Breathe with me.” He breathed deeply, one hand on his diaphragm, the other over his chest, fingers spread. He closed his eyes. You closed yours. Following his breath. Hearing it. Listening to his voice. Following his instructions. After several minutes, you opened your eyes. “How do you feel my love?”

“Miraculously, less horny.”

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it. Incredibly powerful.”

“What’s wonderful is fucking.”

“Are you sure you don’t need to attend treatment,” he joked with a playful lilt.

“Oh yeah, us attending sex therapy together, yeah that’s a great idea.”

“In all seriousness. I do require your advice on something.”

“What’s that baby?”

“Well. This treatment center. I’ve kept this card in my bedside drawer for longer than I care to remember. Given it thought at length. Long before the scandal broke. And yet now, it will simply be dismissed as a carefully planned move. As though I am a congressman attempting to clear his name.”

“Respectfully, who gives a fuck what they think.”

He snorted. “That type of comment could put you out of business, would it not.”

“I’m not saying this as your reputation manager though.”

“You’re saying it as what?”

“As someone who wants you to do what’s best for your health. Fuck the comms plan.”

“If news of this conversation broke, that would be a scandal.”

“Seriously. Do what’s best for you. Don’t worry about the communications stuff. Let us clear that up. Let’s just make sure you’re okay.”

His eyes began to well with tears. “Do you know, in my thousand years I have never once heard that phrase.”

You whispered to him before placing your arms around his broad shoulders. “Then I’m very glad I said it.”

He kissed you. Slowly, tenderly. Lifting you from the bed. Holding you upright, strong arms around your back. You looked over at the windows, inky black. “I should head back, Loki. It’s late.”

“Don’t go back to your room tonight. Stay here. With me.”

You looked down. “In this bed? With you…. I mean, us…. together.”

“Yes. That is,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “if you are certain you can restrain yourself.”

“I’m gonna need constant Wim Hof breathing and maybe a cold towel, but I can do it.” You flexed a comedic bicep. “Stay strong.”

Moments later, you were in Loki’s arms, your back to his chest, before falling into the best sleep you’d had since this whole debacle began.

You woke in an empty bed. It didn’t take you long to locate Loki. His back resting against the sofa. Meditating.

“Did you sleep well love.” His eyes remained closed.

“How did you – ”

“Presence. It increases the senses. I felt you.”

“I can only dream of you feeling – ”

“Don’t.” A palm poised itself aloft in protest. “You are better than that.” He breathed in. Then out. And opened his eyes.

After breakfast, a meeting invite flashed up on your phone. You were to meet at 10am in the boardroom. Natasha was included on the invite. And Steve. A subsequent email from Tony’s first assistant asked you to bring Loki with you.

He dressed smartly. Crisp white shirt over pressed greys slacks. Tan shoes. You held his hand as you walked down the corridor. He opened the door for you. And you walked in to see your friends, Natasha and Steve, smiling and gesturing to the seats beside them, which you accepted. Tony walked in mere moments later, sweeping gratuitous sunglasses from his eyes and tossing them on the table like he owned the place. The irony wasn’t lost on you.

“Right, cat’s out the bag. I know you did it, Florence.” He folded his arms and pouted.

Fuck.

“But, you know, the public’s on board. So.” He shrugged.

You had to remind yourself. Tony didn’t care about the truth. He cared about what people believed to be the truth. The tide had turned. And he would never admit you were right, even if the gaudy $500 sneakers he wore with his bespoke suit depended on it.

You remained silent.

You all remained silent.

There was something else.

You could only pray it was positive.

“Oh, and err…. I got this.” He held up his phone to show you an email from Jade Winters’ legal counsel. “Ice Queen dropped the charges. So, no trial. Shame, I was looking forward to that, bit of Court of Public Opinion to get the blood flowin’, keep you on your toes. Guess we’ve had our fill. So. You’re back on the team.” He tossed a lanyard to Loki along with his iPhone and encrypted smart watch made by StarkTech. He sat down, hands clasped, looking at you all in turn, the sleeves of his grey suit creasing over his wrists. “Look it’s not over. We need to repair. Do a bunch of CSR, televised behind-the-scenes, a scripted documentary, I don’t care. We’re in good hands so that’s something.” He gestured to you, then stood and reached his hand across the table. “No hard feelings, Morticia.”

To his credit, Loki shook his hand. Not without the outwardly-appearing arrogant tilt of his chin.

The glass door slammed closed on Tony’s exit.

Loki burst into tears, sobbing with his head in his hands, elbows on the meeting room table. His shoulders shook.

“It’s over,” he sniffed. “Gods it’s over.”

It became a race to see who could hug Loki first. Not through competition. Purely from the love and fierce protection you all felt towards him. Natasha pulled him up to standing and he leaned into your chest, crying on your shoulder. The black widow placed a hand over your arm. You opened your eyes and looked at her. Wordlessly, she asked you for permission. With a nod of your head, she surrounded Loki’s back and held him. Steve’s arm embraced Nat on one side, and Loki on the other. It was the group hug to end all group hugs.

You had no idea how long you stood there for, but it became impossible to tell whose tears were falling onto your arms.

If you had to guess, you would say it was Rogers.

***

“You got everything?” The Russian’s silky voice held a playful tune. “Dior suit in there, yeah?”

“Hilarious, Romanoff. Truly.”

“And err…. how about your cologne? And hair gel?” The blond Captain quirked a brow. “You got that too?”

“Rogers if you utter one more infernal remark I swear I will start a rumour you are in love with me. And I’ll have you know I’ve gained followers during this entire debacle and my audience is simply dying for an exclusive.”

Natasha laughed.

“Oh and Romanoff, try not to run away with my girl while I’m gone, I beg of you.”

She shrugged. “Got my work cut out for me, Laufeyson. She’s pretty cute.” Her head nodded in your direction.

“Right, err…. we’ll take these. See you outside in five.” Steve’s biceps flexed as he picked up the God’s black sports bag. The redhead took the hint and wheeled Loki’s suitcase towards the elevators.

You were alone.

“I told myself I wouldn’t sob. But I confess, I may fail.” He sniffed as he looked down into your eyes, your arms resting on his shoulders, hands clasped behind his head, as though you attempted to lock him in place.

“I’ll visit. I will.”

“You better.” He pushed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. He hissed upon parting, wishing he had more time.

“Nat’s had them park underground. So no papps.” You brushed your fingertip over the end of his nose. He winkled his nose affectionately.

“Thank you.”

“And Tony’s loaned one of his planes which, honestly, is the fucking least he can do.”

“All is not lost, I suppose.”

“Are you ready?”

“I am. And you’ll keep your promise? No matter what it says?”

“Hmm?”

“The video. I’ll record it in the car. And send it to you.”

“I’ll post it. You have my word.”

“And you have my heart.”

With another kiss, you walked towards the elevators, hand-in-hand.

Taggos:

“We called a doctor,” you continued when he said nothing, putting a glass of water down on the nightstand. “He left a few minutes ago. I can go call him back if you want; we weren’t expecting you to be awake so soon.”

Loki was trying to work this out in his head. You were still being kind to him, though he couldn’t fathom why. Unless this was all just some cruel joke, an experiment to see how the monster would react. Were there cameras? A one-way mirror? No, he was being ridiculous. The tesseract had brought him to safety, surely, but what about this place made it so safe? Of course now that he really needs his silver tongue, it’s extremely heavy and dry in his mouth.

“You can speak, right sir?” you said when you were still met with silence. “It’s fine if you can’t, I just assumed. But I can get you paper and a pen if you need.”

“That won’t be necessary, thank you,” he croaked, finally finding his voice. “In fact, I really should be going.”

Even with his accelerated healing, Loki was still too injured to stand and fell back to the bed with a small grunt. You were by his side in an instant, concern written plainly across all your features. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth as you helped him situate himself on the bed, propping him up with some of the plushy pillows he was loving more and more by the second. He loathed feeling so weak and did his best to avoid looking at your compassionate expression, afraid he might get addicted to the feeling of someone caring about him.

“You really ought to stay here, sir, at least until you get better.”

“I suppose.”

“Ok, good then,” you responded, slightly shocked that he’d agreed so easily. “I know it’s not much, but you can stick around for as long as you need.”

Of course, he was planning on being healed up in the next few hours, and then he’d be on his merry way with tesseract. Then he panicked for a moment, realizing he wasn’t exactly sure where he’d left the magical artifact. He called out to it with his powers and felt it tucked safely away in one of his dimensional pockets. He let out a sigh of relief and quickly wiped the panic from his face.

“You have my thanks,” he sincerely said, though he was still a little suspicious.

“You’re welcome,” you replied. “I would offer to put some TV on, but a storm a couple nights ago knocked the cable. We have the Sound of Music on DVD. And a couple Barney movies. But I’m sure you don’t want to watch those. Unless, of course, you do,” you ended with a nervous laugh.

Ah, so that explained it. You hadn’t yet heard the news of the slaughter he’d led in New York. If you’d known, then you surely would have left him to die in the field. And maybe, somewhere deep down, buried under layers of torture and pride, he would have preferred if you did.

“Do not worry. Television will not be necessary.”

“Oh, ok. Do u need to contact your family? Or friends?”

“That also is unnecessary.”

Your mouth formed into a little “o” shape, clearly not expecting that answer. You opened your mouth to say something else, but both of your attentions were drawn to the door swinging open, letting in a man that Loki did not recognize.

“Well, I thought I heard voices,” the new arrival said. “That must’a been quite a spill you had there, son. How’re you doing now?”

“Alright, thank you,” Loki said, already hating how the man’s boisterous nature reminded him of Thor.

“Hope ya don’t mind my asking, but what happened to ya?”

“Papa,” you harshly whispered, “I’m sure he doesn’t want to talk about it.

As they continued their hushed argument, Loki went over his options. He supposed he could reveal himself and make them cower before him, like that worked so well in New York. Then, of course, it was always possible to name-drop Thor since they probably loved him from his last trip to Midgard. And then there was the last and arguably best option.

“I really would not mind telling you, it is only that I cannot seem to remember anything,” Loki lied.

You shot a concerned glance at your father, who returned it before looking back at Loki. He wasn’t too worried about them believing him, after all he was the God of Lies.

“Well son, do you remember anything?” Papa asked.

The scent of you. Whether it was your perfume, your shampoo, a lotion you use… he couldn’t be sure. It was your aura. A sweet scent that comforted him. Until he remembered you were gone.

To add insult to emotional injury, he couldn’t sleep.

He could drift. Enter the tipsy void between sleeping and waking. But deep, restful, restorative sleep remained out of reach like a scroll of sacred text drifting away on a cloud as he reached for it…. reached out further…… reached……

Then his eyes would open. And he was awake

Though he was never fully awake.

And he was never fully asleep.

He existed in the world in between.

One where he would remember. The raised voices. The slamming door. The silence after you had left. A silence held at bay for several hours by the sheer volume of his rage. Shouting, howling into an empty room. Nobody could hear him scream. His powers made sure of that. He remained in isolation. Nobody truly knowing of his pain. Having nobody to tell. Unsure if he would, even if he did.

After his rage reduced to a simmer, silence filled the room like smoke, leaving him with only his thoughts. His regrets. What he would have said differently, done differently. Whispering a prayer to the Norns to grant him the serenity to master time – or at least accept it. In this idealized reality he would be blessed with the power to maneuver into the past. To physically reside there until he rewrote it. He would return to the present once he had fixed his mistakes. Others had these powers. He deserved them.

God, he needed them.

Three days passed like this. And then he heard a knock on his door.

He stiffened.

He knew there would be a time when you returned. He didn’t expect it to be today.

But the voice he heard wasn’t yours.

“Loki? I, urrr…. just came up to check on ya.”

He folded the duvet from his body and groaned as long legs swung over the bed, dragging himself out of his living quarters and into what you affectionately dubbed his ‘sex room.’

Ridiculous. Pathetic.

What were you thinking, Loki.

He shook his head on viewing the public bedroom of his former self. With the waft of an arm, he cast a lackluster illusion of a messy bed. He opened the door wearily.

“Yes, Rogers?”

“Loki, I…” Steve paused. Frowned. Observed the pale face in front of him. Dark circles under red eyes. Eyelids squinting from the light coming in from the common area. Greasy hair. And a distinctly unwashed aroma. “God, Loki, I…. I don’t wanna be impolite, man. But you look like hell.”

“Yes well if it’s any consolation I feel like hell.”

The soldier nodded sagely, one bulging arm folded across his middle as the other propped itself upright, fist balled near his chin. “I, urr…. came to check on ya. I thought you could use a little company.”

“I’m certain you will not be shocked by this revelation, but you thought wrong.”

“Sure. I’m just….” He glanced over his shoulder, looking back to his colleague and quirking an eyebrow. “.…gonna sit out here if that’s okay. I have some papers to read over.”

Loki nodded and closed the door.

He emerged twenty minutes later, freshly showered, his sweatpants and tshirt from the past three days discarded in the laundry basket.

“Feel a little better?” Rogers eyes remained on his mission briefing.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” He lingered around the edge of the sofa.

“Good.” A smile towards Loki and a small grin. “You smell better too.”

“You know, the passage of time robbed me of the memory of your insufferability.” He walked around the sofa and sat down.

“Yeah I missed you too.” They both smiled, then remained quiet for several ticks of the common area clock. Rogers tilted his head down seriously. “We’re gonna get you out of here, Loki. We’re working on a plan. We’re still working on it. That hasn’t changed.”

Chewing on his lip in thought, he looked away before looking back to his friend. “Thank you.”

“You got it. I have the statement here, if you wanna read it.”

“Yes please.”

He read silently to himself.

I’ve known Loki Laufeyson for six years. I liaised with him for a year when his people landed in Norway and we found a home for them. And for the previous five, he’s been an official member of the Avengers with me here in New York. He’s integral to the team, a valued member and I personally vouch for his integrity. I’ve witnessed him put his life on the line repeatedly. I’ve seen how he takes care of his colleagues, especially our special Agent Romanoff. He ensures her safety. He uses his strength for good. The Avengers would be at a loss without him. And while Loki’s personal life isn’t something I would usually comment on, there is no doubt in my mind that he is innocent of the crimes he’s been accused of.

He felt tears well up in his eyes. “W-would you care for a drink, Rogers?” He excused himself to the kitchen, wiping a stray tear as he opened the fridge.

Steve smiled knowingly and called out to his friend. “Sure. A beer would be great.”

“A beer. Gods, it’s 11am.”

“Yeah, well. It’s almost five o’clock in London. Get one for yourself too.”

Feeling the Norns had misinterpreted his prayers and he had now fallen into parallel reality, he sat down on the sofa with Steve and handed him a bottle. The two men settled in, sipping silently.

“How, umm…” Loki cleared his throat. “How is she?”

“Honestly? Miserable. She’s hiding it, puttin’ on a brave face. Keepin’ busy. But she ain’t happy.”

“Oh.”

“Look, I…. I don’t know what went down between the two of you. Alls I know is, she couldn’t deliver the statement and asked me to do it. I’m guessin’ it’s some kind of disagreement.”

The God gulped down the weak ale. “You could say that.”

“You don’t have any way to contact her, do you Loki.”

“No.”

“You want me to pass on a message?”

“No, please don’t. That is kind of you, Rogers. But I truly would rather you didn’t.”

“You got it.” He swigged. “Mind me asking why?”

“To be frank. I do not deserve the pleasure of her company. I was rather… unkind to her.”

Steve smiled wryly. “Hard to believe.”

“Yes, well…. having her exiled from my life is suitable punishment for my misdeeds.” He glanced at the blond-haired man. “And though it pains me to say it, she would be far better off with someone not unlike yourself.”

“Oh, she ain’t interested in me.” His thick neck stretched out as he guzzled the bottle’s contents. “Trust me, that ship has sailed.” He faked a satisfied sigh as he examined the blue and gold label on the brown glass. “These things do anything to you? Nah, me neither.”

Walking back to the Avengers main floor several hours later, Steve’s stomach rumbled, alerting him to the time that had passed talking to his raven-haired compadre. He fired off a text:

Yeah. It’s exactly what we thought. He’s martyring himself. We’ll have to get her to come to him. Meet me in the cafeteria.

He texted once more:

Word is they have meatballs. J

***

The dancefloor lay empty, mocking you. Taunting you. Reminding you of who it was once filled with, shaking his hips and twirling theatrically, a bevy of women entertained by his gratuitous eroticism. You didn’t know why you had come to the bar in the middle of the day. The second the thought entered your mind, your brain flagged it as a lie.

You knew exactly why you were here.

“You know, err… it’s not usually table service but you look like you could use a little somethin’.”

A man in a black waistcoat atop a crisp white shirt greeted you when you turned. His affable smile gave way to sad eyes. Sandy hair, ruffled as an echo to his artistic soul. He must have been mid-forties. He carried tealight candles, setting them up in their matte black stone resting place on each table.

“It’s okay, I’ll come to the bar.”

“Nah, I insist. Apple juice in a wine glass, right?”

“Well remembered.” Your lips curled up at the corners, the closest thing to a smile you had experienced in five full days.

You had continued with the communications plan. But you felt like you were wading through treacle. Days were long. Dull. Quiet. As though someone had turned a dial and transformed your life into black and white, bleeding all the colour out of it. Everyone was cooperating. Steve, Nat, Jessie and her stunt women. Even Bruce was on the verge of a breakthrough in intergalactic communications.

You should have been elated.

You felt like shit.

Nursing an emotional hangover and regret like you had never experienced.

A glass clinked on the black marble-topped table. Your barman friend smiled kindly.

“It’s on the house.”

“No really, I can pay for – ”

“It’s on Stark’s dollar, don’t sweat it.”

“If I’d known that I’d have ordered two.” You almost smiled in earnest.

“If it, urr…. ain’t too intrusive. You’re the one working on the Loki case, aren’t ya?”

“News travels fast. And yeah. That’s me.”

“Good. Without folks like you, she would’ve succeeded.” With a respectful nod, he turned.

“Wait what did you say?”

Short, cautious steps of his polished shoes brought him back to you. “Nobody told you?”

“Told me what?”

“Jeez, maybe I’m the only one who knows….” He drifted off as if realizing his place in the world for the first time. “I was the only one here.”

“Hang on – were you working on the bar the night Jade approached Loki?”

“Yeah.”

You leaned in. “What happened.”

“She err…. she came in, dressed to the nines. Came onto him. He said no. He was pretty rude, actually. Then she said something about ruining him.”

Everything fell quiet. Like the moments of held breath during breathwork, the world was still. It felt as though the earth spun slower. Possibly even started turning in the opposite direction. You didn’t know how much time passed. But you took a sudden, needed deep inhale.

“Oh God.”

“You knew he didn’t do it though, right? Steve said something about it. Some hush-hush campaign.”

You always knew. Deep down in the depths of you.

To hear it from a direct witness made your head spin.

“I can speak on it, if ya like.”

“I-I wouldn’t want to jeopardize your job.”

He shrugged. “Stark wouldn’t care. I’m just a barman. And there’s always another bar.”

“Okay. That’s generous of you. And if it goes to trial – I think we’ll have to call on you. But that’s the lawyer’s job.”

“You got it. You can count on me.”

You slipped into an imagined reality for the next hour, one where you had mastered the ability to time travel. A reality where Loki occupied the dancefloor, waving you over to join him. You would laugh and accept his invitation. He would take your hand, pull you close to his chest then swing you around merrily. His playfulness would give way to seriousness when all would fall quiet, fellow dancers long since departed, your faces inches from each other…..

“Drinking at three in the afternoon. Must have been a rough week.”

Silky, caramel tones flowed through your ears, tickling your ear drums like a silk ribbon. You didn’t have to look up to know who owned these sultry syllables.

“Hey Nat.”

Her brown leather bomber jacket creaked as her face melted into what you called her pout-smile. You’d witnessed it used for strictly two purposes. It was an indication of genuine mirth, yet potentially a weapon to sexually devastate its recipient. Today, it was the former.

You verbalized your thoughts verbatim. “So is this a business or a pleasure visit.”

“You know you’d make a terrible spy. No poker face. No game.” That smile again.

“Yeah I know. Loki always – ”

You felt as though you had dropped something heavy on your foot, wincing at the aftermath of the fallen artifact.

“It’s okay. You can say his name. I won’t tell.”

“We both know that’s a lie, Nat.”

“A harmless one. So go ahead. What did Loki say?”

“He, erm…. he always used to say all PR people lie. And I’m honest. He found it surprising that I care about the truth.”

“There’s a lot that surprised him about you. And surprised all of us.”

“Not to labour the point, but he didn’t do it. So standing up for him was the obvious choice.”

“I know Loki. She was lying, it was obvious from the get go. But the way you defended him, put your reputation on the line without evidence….” She quirked her brow. “Thousands wouldn’t.”

“Why do I feel this is going somewhere, Nat.”

Ivory cheeks dimpled in the stirrings of a smile, leathered forearms resting against the marble, stacked on one another. Head cocked, glossy red hair shimmering as though she was in a commercial. To the untrained eye it looked benign. You knew differently.  She may as well have been cocking a gun.

“Can you give me the straight answer, minus the spy guff.” You flashed a smile of your own and leaned towards her. “I think we know each other well enough by now. Besides.” You shrugged, leaning back feigning nonchalance. Theatrically unbothered. “It’ll save us some time.”

“Alright fine.” She held her hands in surrender. “He misses you. That’s why I’m here.”

“The usual, Ms. Romanoff?” The friendly neighborhood barman manifested at Natasha’s side. “Wasn’t sure when to interrupt.” He shrugged. “Maybe you’re still working your target.” He flashed a wink at you and walked away chuckling to himself.

Her tongue poked the inside of her cheek incredulously. “Everyone knowing you’re a spy gets old fast.”

An hour passed, Natasha sipping on a beer and you ‘living on the edge’ – Natasha’s words – and indulging in a 0% IPA. The celebrity spy spilled the beans. “He thinks he doesn’t deserve a second chance,” she told you. “You know what you have to do.”

***

The scuff of his chair caused him to wince as he stood, clearing the single breakfast plate from the table and placing it in the sink gently. The suds foamed as he cleaned his plate, cutlery and coffee mug. It was the seventh day without you. Since the spontaneous camaraderie two days earlier, Steve visited twice daily. Sometimes thrice. Loki was beginning to view the solider as a friend. Or a trusted ally, in the very least.

The elevator dinged.

“Good morning darling!” he called out buoyantly to his friend. “You do realise, Rogers, this is how rumours start.”

When the reply didn’t immediately come, Loki turned. He saw you.

“I guess it’s good I’m not Steve, then.” You offered him a soft smile, eyes already watering and bottom lip beginning to twitch with emotion.

The moment shattered as a white plate clattered to the ground, Loki flinching when it smashed. Instinctively you rushed to him, helping him gather the broken pieces.

“N-no, no, please, you’ll hurt yourself.” A gentle hand pushed your delicate digits from the shards. The moment he did so, he began to breathe quickly. “I-I did not mean to hurt you, gods, I….”

“Shhh shhhh, Loki….” You placed your hand on his cheek, cupping it. He leaned into you. “Breathe… just breathe. It’s okay. It’s alright.”

His legs gave way, muscular back hitting the cupboards under the sink. He began to cry.

“Hey, shhhhh.” You moved from crouching to kneeling, offering your arms. He embraced you.

“I’ve just got you back,” he sniffed, “and now you’re going to leave again.”

“Aww, no…. no no. I’m here.” You stroked his back with you thumb. “I’m here.”

After a minute, he calmed. You sat with him on the floor, broken pieces of ceramic surrounding you.

“You know,” he sniveled. “This is almost poetic. Surrounded by broken things. On the floor with me. Helping me pick up the pieces.”

You chuckled. “You couldn’t make this shit up, could you.”

He laughed. The type of laugh that feels uncomfortable when you still have tears on your cheeks. One you are glad of nonetheless. A gurgle that feels like an old friend. A faithful winter coat. A favourite cup of tea in an unfamiliar setting.

“God I missed you so much.” His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I am so, deeply, unreservedly sorry.”

“I know. I’m sorry too. And for what it’s worth, I know you didn’t do it.”

His eyes closed, head resting against the underside lip of the kitchen countertop. He whispered a thank you to some invisible force above, perhaps his deities, unsure if you heard his utterance. A perfect jawline turned towards you, eyes deep, ancient and feeling. “You know, I…. we can discuss it if you wish. All in time. But… I truly do not pay any mind to what we said. Rather, I simply wish to have you as part of my life once more. If you’ll have me.”

Your lip trembled visibly now. “I will.”

He hugged you. A heavy sigh released from his chest, possibly rising to the Gods he thanked moments earlier.

You smiled sympathetically. “Let’s get this cleaned up.”

***

The hours passed quickly, as though a week apart hadn’t passed at all. It was lunchtime before you moved from the sofa, the raven-haired man causing abdominal-crunching laughter as he relayed quips from Steve. Despite his mocking, you could feel his warmth towards his colleague. Knowing he had his colleague’s support and loyalty allowed you to relax a level deeper.

“So, usual spot then? The sandwich place?”

“Oh, actually I would rather like to prepare lunch for us both, if I may. Groceries arrived yesterday, so we’re fully stocked.”

“Aww… you’re making me lunch?”

“If you’ll allow it.” A tilt of his chin and a playful smile caused your stomach to flutter. It didn’t help that he clasped his hands behind his back, part dominant, part haughty prince. You couldn’t compute which one you liked more.

A fresh sliced olive loaf was the bed for salted organic butter, tender poached salmon pieces nestled amongst avocado slices and topped with peppery rocket. Nova Scotian sea salt and cracked black pepper topped off the sandwich. You squirted mayonnaise on the side for good measure. He grimaced, before breaking out into a grin.

His cheeks were beginning to hurt from all the smiling.

He didn’t mind.

“You should have a sandwich shop,” you proclaimed between final bites. One hand gestured in the air to an imaginary sign. “LOKI’S.”

“Well it certainly rolls off the tongue easier than my last name. Cheaper signage, too. Fewer letters.”

You barely heard his words. It didn’t matter what he said. The strength was in the words unsaid. The warmth layered in between playful banter and meaningless jokes.

Frankly, just seeing him in the flesh was enough.

Watching how his face changed when he smiled broadly.

How his eyes creased and nose crinkled when he found something particularly amusing.

The way he tucked his hair behind his right ear when he was nervous, or concentrating particularly hard.

“You, umm…. you do not have to stay wih me quite so long. If work requires you.”

A gentle hand on his forearm. “It’s Sunday.”

“Oh.” You found his confused frown both incredibly endearing and equally heartbreaking. Gone was the man who knew today was the day he was formerly scheduled at Dior. In its place was a man who barely knew what day of the week he was living in.

After washing the dishes together you found yourself back on the common room sofa, not considering someone could walk in on you and certainly not caring. You sat close to one another, facing. Not quite touching. Yet always physically close, as though he couldn’t bare you to be more than a foot from him at all times.

“Banner thinks he can reach Thor,” you proclaimed. “Pretty big deal in space comms, or so he says. Five bucks says he can’t keep quiet about it. His superhero name should be Spoiler Man.”

Loki laughed. “Well it’ll certainly be a rarity to hear from my brother. With any luck he’ll have something pleasant to say.”

Your hand rested on his knee. “And why wouldn’t he.”

It wasn’t a question.

Strong shoulders shrugged. “Time has passed, I suppose.”

“Everyone has nice things to say, Loki. Steve. Nat. My friend Jessie. Thor will, too. We’re going to lead with him. If that’s still okay with you.”

Solemn nods were framed by knuckles – impossibly free of battle scars – grazing his lips. As the cogs of his mind turned, his eyes focused on the stack of books at the foot of the sofa.

“You’ve been reading?”

“Mmm.”

“Did Steve get you those?”

“He did, yes. I absolutely blistered through the ones you generously purchased for me. I’m a fast reader. Especially when incarcerated. It isn’t my first time locked up with only books for company, you know.” He offered a comical puppy-dog expression. You knew there was a story behind his previous imprisonment. You didn’t ask. You would get to know, in time.

“What’s been your favourite read so far?”

“Oh! Well, The Way of the Superior Man was fascinating. Recommended by Rogers personally, and believe you me I did not miss the chance to crack a little joke at his expense.”

“What, because his love of the book eroded its credibility??”

“Precisely.” He leaned forward animatedly. “Oh and have you heard of The Iceman?”

“That Dutch guy who does all the cold water stuff? And the breathwork?”

“Yes! Oh he is wonderful. Completely insane, mad as a box of Bilgesnipe. But utterly brilliant. I have started cold showers in the morning and without wishing to sound obtuse, it has absolutely changed me. I’m sleeping better and feel so much more calm. And I have noticeably more energy. My mood has lifted, too. Also – and I do not wish to overshare – but I have much greater self-control. I’m still hard upon waking, which is fine, I’m used to that.” He shrugged, genuinely casual at this sexually devastating revelation. You swallowed. “But I have greater mastery over my own sexual urges. I suppose the breathwork has helped with that. What I mean to say is, it has helped me greatly.”

“I’m glad you’ve found something that’s helped you so much. “Your hand gently rubbed his thigh. He looked down.

“I, umm… I read a rather interesting tome on vulnerability.” Green eyes flashed up to yours. Penetrating you.

“Oh…?”

“Mmm.” He nodded slowly, taking his time over his next words. “And in line with its ethos, I would rather like to share something with you. If I may.”

“Yeah of course, Loki.” Your heartrate increased noticeably.

He jolted back from you sharply, nerves tingling in his fingers like a livewire. “Do you remember the morning you walked out of the bathroom? And you saw me, without…. without my shirt?”

“I do.” Borrowing some of Loki’s freshly-found self-control, you harnessed your own and bit down on the urge to crack a crass joke like how could I forget.

“You….” He sighed. “You saw me in… with…. well.”

“The scars.”

“Yes. Yes the scars. They, umm… they are real. If that’s what you wondered.”

“They looked very real. And… painful.”

“Well, not so much now. But at the time, very much, yes. I would…. I would rather like to show you them. To explain where they came from. If you agree, of course.”

Your hand rubbed up and down his forearm, a lump hard in your throat. “Loki I would be honoured. Honestly. Thank you.” Your voice horsed, transforming into a whisper.

“Alright, umm….” He looked around his body, uncertain of his next move. Surprised you had agreed, and unsure of how to proceed when he thought it unlikely you’d get this far. “Well… I would, I would need to take my shirt off. If that’s alright.”

“I’m okay with it.” You smiled sweetly, pushing your inner whore to the corner of your mind and locking her away in a trunk. For the time being, at least.

“Alright. Yes. Hmmm.” He stood and began to pace. “You’re certain you’re in consent of this….?”

“I am. Yes.”

“Hmm. Alright.” He ran a hand through his hair, walking back to you. He stopped and held out a hand. “Because we don’t have to if you – ”

“LOKI JUST TAKE YOUR FUCKING SHIRT OFF!” Your playful voice caused his lips to twitch.

“I never thought I’d hear you utter such a phrase, let alone scream it.”

“Yeah well all your no-fap stuff is clearly paying off, making you unbearably hotter if that’s even possible. Go on then, off with it.” Your arm gestured lazily towards him. You hoped it looked nonplussed. Calm. Relaxed.

He crossed his arms over one another and grasped the hem of his white tshirt. He paused.

Norns, Loki. It’s not as though it’s your first time taking your shirt off in front of a maiden.

He chuckled inwardly. When nervous, his inner dialogue always defaulted to lexicon from his native tongue.

He closed his eyes and in one sweep, the shirt was over his head, held in his hands briefly, then tossed onto the sofa. He flexed his fists as they hung awkwardly by his side.

Christ.

If that’s what a God looks like, I….

I’m gonna start praying.

Fibers of muscle ran over his shoulder and towards his collar like a collection of streams, leading your eyes to the dip in the valley of his neck. A large gulley ran down hard chest muscles, the gulley continuing through his abdominals like a river parting two sides of the Amazon, stopping at his belly button framed by two muscles you affectionately knew as the ‘dick trench.’ You had never seen one in person. And it was glorious.

He was clearly sculpted from marble by a Norse God. This was the only possible explanation for this level of celestial beauty.

As you quenched the thirst of your inner vixen, who had inexplicably escaped from her holding place in your brain, you hadn’t notice Loki fall quiet. Words from his favoured book bubbled up to the surface of his mind like bubbles in a Champagne flute. “I…. I feel rather nervous about what I am about to do next. Rather… vulnerable. I must remove the illusion. So you may see me in my true form. You know if you would like to back out – ”

You tilted your chin down and raised your eyebrows.

“Right. Yes.”

With a cock of his head and a shrug of one shoulder, green light rippled down his body. In its wake the light revealed skin scarred by battle. Centuries old, you were sure of it. Many were deep. Brutal. You couldn’t imagine what type of weapon caused them. Or who wielded such a tool. Loki began to talk.

“We had left our home, having destroyed it in order to stop our estranged sister from gaining power. We departed our planet in a refugee vessel piloted by Bruce. We were twenty-two jump points out of Asgard when we got into trouble. For context, that’s the middle of deep space. I stood with Thor, talking. Looking at the stars. They were beautiful. We had hugged. Which is worth noting, given it’s such a rarity. We talked about coming back to earth. I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea, considering my misgivings in New York. Thor assured me everything would be fine. And that’s when….” He gasped in air, swallowing it down. His voice shook at the image he recalled within his own mind. “That’s when when we saw his ship come into view. The Sanctuary, he called it. An impossibly large, imposing vessel. Black. The size of a planet. It dwarfed our little ship. They attacked us. Shot holes in our craft. Our systems were failing. We scrambled. Attempted to restore our vessel for long enough to reach the next jump point and lose them, at least until we could find others to fight with us. Alarms blaring, sirens, our people whimpering, crying, it was….” Loki began to sob. You held him until his tears became sniffles. He mustered his courage and continued telling you about the worst moment of the most terrifying day in his thousand years.

“Within moments they were aboard our ship. It was… Gods, it was slaughter. Thor and I, we attempted to fight them off, but….” His voice quivered, words fading as his mind drifted off. He closed his eyes. “I can still hear their screams.” His voice was hoarse, words croaking through tears. “And the Maw, stepping over their lifeless bodies, I….” Tears fell thick and hot down his cheeks and onto the scars on his chest. “Seeing Thor laying there so helplessly, the strongest person I know. The Titan standing over him, picking him up as though he were a rag doll. And I was stood there completely helpless, frozen.”

You stood in front him, holding his hands, pulling him close to you as each piece of graphic imagery tumbled out of him, dislodging itself. His body shook. You guided him down to the sofa, helping him put his shirt back on. July heat blazed onto concrete one hundred feet below you in the energetic streets of New York. Yet Loki shivered violently. You lifted up the ends of the sofa storing white fleecy blankets and placed it around his shoulder. You placed a kiss on the top of his head. “I’ll make you some tea.”

You returned to his side with a mug of linden flower. He held it in his hands, inhaling the scent and imagining Asgard before the devastation. Before the attack on his ship. Before all of this.

He felt a secure hand on his shoulder, resting there, stroking gently. He continued.

“I umm…. in the fracas, when Bruce’s beast fought the Titan with his fists, I had an idea. I cast an illusion. An illusion where I gave the Titan what he needed. It fooled him. Got rid of him. Then we piloted the ship to earth as planned. We buried the fallen once we arrived in Norway.”

“This Titan you talked about. He wanted the Tesseract?”

“How do you know about that?”

“I know a government cover-up when I see one.”

“Yes. Shoddily done, at best.”

“And, you know. Steve told me. On one of our dates. Something about they should have left it in the ocean.”

“Yes, well he’s right. Steve and I fought side-by-side on Wakanda. The Tesseract brought nothing but trouble. To any and all who wield it.”

“So the infinity stones are real. It’s not a conspiracy theory. The intergalactic battle in a hidden country in Africa. I guess all those nutjobs on YouTube are right.”

“Oh, it’s true. It’s true alright. There are – were – six of them. The stones. They’re destroyed now. You’re safe.”

“Thank you.”

Loki gave one solumn nod.

You looked at each other, eyes both shining with emotion, unable to comprehend the courage and tenacity and goodness of the man – the God – sat beside you.

“So your scars are from saving your people.”

“No. Gods no. No that isn’t true at all actually. My scars are from letting more than half of my people die because of my weakness and my failure. That’s why I cover them up.”

“I can understand why you feel that way. But that’s not how I see it. You’ve been through something beyond traumatic. You survived a war.”

“Mmm.” He took a sip of tea. “That’s a poignant way to put it.”

You adjusting the corner of the blanket slipping down his back and tugged it gently over his shoulder. “Who else knows about this. About what happened on your ship after you left your home.”

“Those who witnessed it. Thor. Bruce. Heimdall – he’s on Asgard. Val’s up there, too. You would get along with Val, I believe. And the remaining Asgardians. Some are still here, of course. They remained in Norway.”

“Do they like it here? They feel safe?”

“They like the coffee.” He smiled. “Though I suspect…. They are too afraid to travel through space once more. Who could blame them.”

“What happened when you landed here? After the attack, I mean.”

“Well, we landed in Norway. Steve showed up on a jet. Was rather helpful, as it happened. Offered his support, connected us with the local authorities who ensured we had food and shelter and support. He told me to stay with my people while he and Thor and his friends went to the battle in Wakanda. After I was certain my Asgardians were safe, I journeyed to Africa. Terrible battle. Awful. Towards the end, we were in a clearing in the forest. Thor showed up – with his new friends the Guardians, who is with today. He lunged towards the Titan with an axe. I called to him, Go for the head brother. He did. And the Titan fell.”

“You saved the day.”

He scoffed. “Hardly. My brother did.”

“Well from what I’ve heard, Thor’s not that bright. He probably would have hit him in the chest or something. And who knows what would have happened.”

A lighthearted chuckle. “Yes, you’re probably right. He is a moron.”

“And you started a new life here. After the battle.”

“Yes. I suppose I began to see earth as one large nightclub. A place to have fun, to forget. To create a new identity. A persona. And of course that’s why I fucked so prolifically and so publicly. Because when I was fucking I didn’t get the flashbacks.”

A hand slid around his waist. Your head rested on his shoulder, prompting him to smile. “So we’re a nightclub, eh.”

“Yes. But I rather forgot you are the same culture who built the colosseums. A savagely cruel society. Violent. Brutal.”

“And now all the savages are on social media. No longer gladiators. They’re keyboard warriors.”

“Precisely.”

You cuddled up to him. Squeezing him. Wishing that everything you thought and felt would be conveyed in this simple touch. Knowing your wordsmithery escaped you. Hoping he knew this.

“You want some more tea, Loki?”

“I’d rather like to stay here like this for a while, if that’s alright.”

You stayed snuggled on the sofa until dinner. Chicken soup, at Loki’s request.

You were drying the dishes, Loki washing, when you felt a pang in your stomach.

Guilt.

“Loki, I…. I owe you an apology.

“You truly do not.” He dunked the bowl into the hot, soapy water.

“No I do.” You turned, instinctively passing Loki the tea towel to dry his hands.

“Alright.” Veins popped on the backs of his hands. He wasn’t angry. That’s simply how his hands were in the natural light of day. You couldn’t begin to perceive the power running through them. “What is it, petal?”

“I want to apologise for how unprofessional I was when I last saw you. I shouldn’t have crossed the line. You need me as a qualified expert. I know that. And that’s why you didn’t want to lose me. And it’s okay, I – ”

Your words muffled with the force of Loki’s lips on yours, gentle hands, still warm from the hot soapy water, framing each side of your face. His lips were urgent, forceful, yet restrained. He gasped when he pulled from you. He turned his right hand, knuckles grazing so softly over your skin. “Silly, silly flower.” You began to chuckle. “You truly think I was afraid to lose you because of some commitment to rebuilding my reputation?” He brushed his lips over yours so tenderly.

“Well to be fair….” You whispered, your next words drifting off like leaves in an autumn breeze.

Perhaps his lips had stolen them.

“My reputation is gone. It’s you who I couldn’t stand to lose.”

Foreheads rested against one another, finding strength and tenderness and support and understanding. Your phone buzzed against the kitchen table. You ignored it. Then it began to ring.

“Do you need to get that, flower?”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Loki laughed, hands firmly on your waist. You kissed him, hands snaking around his neck as you smiled into one another’s lips.

The elevator dinged. A breathless Steve Rogers arrived in the kitchen.

The girl whispered. “I’m frightened, Mr. Loki.”

“I know, little one. I know.” He stood in front of her, effectively shielding her with his body. He looked back at the tiny duplicate human. “He won’t hurt you.”

The figure chuckled. “Well that hasn’t exactly been decided now, has it.”

Loki looked at the man in front of him. His duplicate. The one he hadn’t seen since the day he teleported you and him to Asgard.

Loki’s Double pointed. “She is the reason I’m here. Their news media launched a campaign calling for my head. A search swept this entire wretched planet.” He swept his arm open theatrically. “And you, nowhere to be seen. I mean to rule this world, not burrow in it. I tire of scuttling in shadows, grow weary of hiding in dark places.”

Loki cocked his head at his mirror image. He’s so incredibly angry. Bitter. Cold. He continued to observe as his double continued his tirade.

“And you have the audacity to return with the very reason I am in hiding. I am here, skulking in tunnels as those ghastly Midgardians assume I am the one who took the girl. All the while, it was you who kidnapped her and I am paying for your mistakes. You are no different than father who you insist you despite so much.”

Loki spoke earnestly, his hand on his chest, long fingers spread. “I’m sorry. For leaving you here to contend with the consequences of my decisions. I should not have. It was wrong. Please forgive me.”

Loki’s Double scoffed and tilted up his chin arrogantly. “You were a warrior. Skilled in battle. A wise sorcerer, trained by the very best and feared by beings throughout the Nine Realms and beyond. Now look at you. Pathetic. I wonder what happened on Asgard to turn you so soft. Was it that woman.” He cocked his head. “Oh it was.”

Loki used his right arm to secure her behind him. She cowered, holding onto one of his legs. “No. This isn’t her. This is her duplicate.”

Loki’s Double cackled. “This is a jest, is it not? First you completely exhaust yourself creating me, then you repeat the process with your precious mortal. You are so enamored with her you created a duplicate?” He clicked his tongue, walking towards Loki. “Loki of Asgard, look how far you’ve fallen.”

“I have not fallen anywhere. Fallen in love perhaps, but…”

“Love? That’s what you call it? Leaving me here, paying for your errors, while you are in the realm eternal, feasting on all the delicacies Asgard has to offer, playing the hero no doubt, and gallivanting with the girl and being – ”

“Loved.” Loki spoke flatly. “I was in Asgard being loved.” He looked at his double. His former self. Void of affection and touch and compassion. Angry at the world. Entitled. Craving a crown to fill the void inside of him that threatened to eat him alive. Loki let go of the girl and stepped forward, reaching out to his double. He received a strong push backwards, his boots scuffing on grimy concrete. Loki put up his hands in surrender. “It is not my wish to fight you. Rather, I wish to….” He sighed. The man in front of him wore heavy armour. Loki decided a hug was perhaps not the best decision. “Okay, look. You’re angry. You have every right to be. But I need your help.”

Another scoff from his double. Loki continued.

“I realise you will want to know what’s in it for you. The benefit is a way out of this burrow. So. Let us place our differences aside. And let me tell you about this plan.”

***

“You remember your lines, yes?”

She glanced around the tube station, bustling with commuters. “I don’t like it here. It freaks me out.”

At least she’s starting to sound a little more like… like her original. 

I wonder how she is. Back on Asgard. I trust Sif and Thor are treating her well.

He pulled her close as a stern woman in red-rimmed glasses and a tight up-do pushed past, her travel card beeping against the barriers. “Yes, it’s – it’s very busy. But I understand she lives – you live – outside of the city limits. It will be much quieter in your family’s home.”

With a strong arm around her waist, he led her through the tube station and out into the bustling streets of London. The sounds of traffic and talking and music assaulted them the moment they stepped into the capital. The musty smell of rain on the concrete. Damp. Filthy. Loki reached out to a stout woman wearing a head covering handing out free newspapers. He held the grey paper over the duplicate’s head as they walked through the streets.

Isn’t it supposed to be summer? Odd weather for July.

“Are you alright, little one?”

She smiled. “Yeah. But it’s weird seeing you like that.”

Loki wore a navy blue flat cap and sported a short white beard. His usually elegant fingers now covered by knitted fingerless gloves. A tattered brown trench coat almost drowned him, and underneath lay a tight waistcoat with a button missing.

“Yes. I know. And I’m afraid I must make another change shortly. I will be forced to alter my voice when we arrive at the police station.” He gave a sympathetic smile. “You do remember what to say, yes? And how it’s different to what we practiced on Asgard?”

“Yeah. And those, umm… the false memories you implanted, when will I get those?”

“Soon. And your personality will filter through within the next day or so. For now, we’ll put it down to shock.”

He walked her up the steps of the police constabulary. At the top, she squeezed his hand. “I don’t want to go in.”

He felt a clenching in his stomach that he could not name. He raised curled fingers to his lips. “I understand this is frightening for you. But I will stay as long as they permit me to. And I… I promise I won’t leave until your family and friends arrive.”

“Okay. But… I’m going to miss you.”

Loki noticed a fizzing sensation in his nose, right before his eyes began to water. Despite being in public, he risked it and hugged her. “Right. We have to assume our roles now.”

They walked into the station and reached the counter, greeted by a sullen ashen-faced man with heavy bags under his eyes. Greeted was a generous description. The man’s eyes remained fixed on his phone. He spoke in a thick Cockney accent. “Take a numba, sit darn, coffee machine in the back next to the loos.”

Loki spoke in an equally thick east-end tone. “Ere, int this that gal you were lookin’ fowah?”

The girl bit her lip on hearing his tone, stifling a laugh.

The counter man – Colin, according to his badge – looked up. “Bleedin’ ‘ell. Where you find ‘er then?”

“She were wunderin’ rarnd the station. Couldda got picked up by any dodgy ol’ geeza.”

“Yeah awight, awight.” Colin moved aside a stained, cracked mug, full of tea that resembled treacle in both colour and consistency. “Nigel! Ay, Nige! They found ‘er! The girl!!”

Within sixty seconds ten police officers surrounded her and pushed away the old man they believed brought her to safety.

“Ere! Be careful! Been through a lot, she ‘as. Can tell by lookin’ at ‘er.” Loki called out as a burly officer blocked him. He saw the girl’s eyes pleading with him. “Look I’m stickin’ ararnd. Don’t trust you lot.”

“Please! Please, I trust him,” your duplicate called out.

After much grumbling, the City of London police officers permitted Loki to accompany the young woman to a private room for questioning. The line of questioning started. Where had Loki taken her? How had she been missing all this time? Precisely what did the big-bad-intergalactic-war-criminal want from her? Why?

The girl knew her lines. She explained she remained with Loki during the time she was missing. He scooped her up off the streets of New York, before they were banged into a SHIELD cell, and she escaped with him. They hid in his bunker and remained undetected underneath the thick concrete of Manhattan. And that’s where she stayed.

When the campaign launched to find her, she explained how Loki became restless. “I think he was… afraid. Of harming me. And keeping me away from my family. He.... felt sad about it, I think. We… we get on really well you see.” She looked over at the real Loki, still disguised as an old man from London’s East End. “Then recently, he teleported us to London. Using a blue thing. It’s gone now. I don’t remember where. But I think he was trying to bring me back home. As I said, he liked me. He was kind to me. We sort of… got along.” 

Excellent work, little one. Loki thought, knowing nobody could hear him. Now they will believe the Tesseract is on Midgard.

“You trust him?” An officer asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Classic case of Stockholm Syndrome,” a woman with glasses in the corner piped up from her notes, pen hovering to jot down her psychoanalytic theory.

“Who brought in the shrink?” The officer frowned, irritated. A detective shrugged.

After an hour of this, during which Loki had to school his expression and prevent his eyes rolling into the back of his head at the tedium of it all, he observed the girl. Her shoulders were no longer hunched up tight. Her breathing relaxed. She smiled more. More time passed, and soon old-man-Loki was escorted to a private room to talk about the reward. “Well I ain’t got no bank accarnt, don’t trust ‘em. Cash or nuffink fellas.” 

As he expected, this request bought him time. Eventually, the officers returned with cash for him in an unmarked bag. Loki left the station, hiding the money in his Seidr pocket, and transforming himself into a DPD driver, busying himself with boxes. He remained outside the station, transforming into various different forms to remain undetected, stopping only when a large group rushing into the station, wailing and yelling. He looked through the glass entrance of the station. The girl was surrounded by family and friends, hugging her. She smiled.

With a flash of green, Loki transformed into himself. Black hair, Asgardian armour and all. She looked at him through the glass. She waved and smiled. In a flash, a new disguise appeared.

She would never know that Loki followed her to their home, stopping only when the family sat down in the front room with cups of tea, biscuits, hugs and smiles.

***

“You came.”

“I said I would.”

Loki faced his double, still lurking in the tunnels under the City of London.

“What’s that?” his double asked.

“Oh! It’s a bag, they insist on handing out these ghastly pieces of plastic with every purchase. Do you know it takes four centuries for it to biodegrade?”

“Yes. Mortals are ridiculous and pathetic. And weak.”

“That’s a little unfair.” He reached into the carrier bag and fished out a sandwich, a bag of crisps, a bottle of water, a sausage roll still warm from the well-known UK bakery, as well as a chocolate chip muffin. “The food is ghastly here. I apologise in advance.” Loki handed the items to his double, who now cradled an armful of food. “Oh! But you must try this. It’s referred to as ‘coffee.’ I assure you, it’s absolutely wonderful.”

The double frowned. “You brought me sustenance. Why?”

“You must be ravenous.” He watched his double’s body language, cautious and untrusting. With a flick of his wrist, Loki conjured a side table, followed by a Midgardian sofa and two armchairs. He shrugged. “I saw the furniture in displayed in a large outlet on my way here, I thought it may be more comfortable for you. Here, why don’t we place the food on the – ”

Loki’s double grabbed the sausage roll and bit into it aggressively, pastry crumbling at his mouth as his eyes watered at the sensation of food entering his system. Loki simply gave him a nod as he ate, sitting on the sofa in soft silence. Without too much persuading, his double sat down on the armchair next to the table of food. Within ten minutes, all that remained were empty wrappers. Loki handed him the coffee. Reluctantly, the double accepted it. Loki smiled as his double tasted his favourite drink for the first time.

***

“Tell me again about this embrace you speak of.”

Loki’s double sat next to him on the sofa, leaning back, his foot raised up to rest against his knee. Three hours had passed. Loki explained everything to him. The truth. Of you. Of Asgard. Of your duplicate. Of the simple plan to hand her over to authorities. And how it had changed.

“Well, perhaps she could show you. The embrace you desire.”

Loki Two shook his head. “I wish to at least know what I am doing prior to that eventuality.”

“Very well, my magnificent double. Stand.”

Loki’s double rose to the worn soles of his leather boots. He clasped his hands behind his back. “Very well. Do your worst.”

Loki rolled his eyes playfully. “It’s straight-forward. It simply involves placing your arms around another, as they do the same.” He placed his arms around the stiff and unyielding body in front of him, hugging him tightly. His squeeze was not returned by his duplicate, stubborn arms pinned down beside him. “No no, you have to return the embrace, that’s the whole point of it. Come, place your arms around me.”

“This is… odd.” The duplicate didn’t move an inch.

Loki leaned back. “Very well. The theory is, it’s about trust. It comes from a time where exposing one’s torso,” he gestured to his own, “placed one in a vulnerable position.”

“They would stab you.”

“Yes – quite. However, it’s present day. Nobody’s stabbing anyone.”

“You no longer use your daggers?”

“Well yes I do – I just, I suppose… it’s complex. Suffice to say, the embrace is symbolic.”

The double scowled. “To risk maiming by a stranger. In what realm does that hold logic? Why on earth would I do that?”

“To be loved.” Loki looked around the dank tunnel. He shrugged. “And at least to make your way out of here. Now. Come.” He placed his arms around his duplicate once more. He rested his chin on his double’s shoulder. His inhaled and exhaled, slowly, several times.

Come on, Loki.

I know you can do this.

By the Norns, you can.

You’re me, for Odin’s sake.

And if I can overcome my own arrogance, by all accounts so can you.

Come on, Loki. For the love of Thor and all things sacred.

For mercy’s sake, just do it.

Loki took a deep breath in. And let go.

Fine. Fine. You don’t want to. Or you’re not able to. It’s alright. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to, either. I abandoned you. I left you. And I am sorry. I love you, Loki. I always will. No matter what you choose.

As Loki relaxed into the body of his duplicate, he felt an unexpected sensation.

The feeling of strong leather-clad arms embracing him.

***

“And you are absolutely certain their authorities will not capture me and lock me in a cell for all eternity?”

“For the final time, no they will not. I sowed the seed when I handed her to the charming man at the constabulary. And. It’s been three days. News moves quickly in their realm. The dust has proverbially settled.”

The two Gods walked down the pavement casually, the duplicate casting a disgusting look at two youths frolicking past them, dancing in front of their phones and speaking to each other crudely.

To the outside world the two men appeared as generic City of London bankers, thanks to Loki’s Seidr. A gift his duplicate did not possess, along with his longevity.

“Wait.” His double stopped, placing an outstretched arm over his protector’s stomach. He turned to him. “What if she despises me? What if the very sight of me causes her insides to contort? I’m hardly what one would call – ”

“Do not speak that way of yourself.” He smoothed down the lapels of his duplicate’s Saville Row suit. “You are wonderful, Loki Laufeyson.” He ignored the suspicious glance of a passing teen, chewing gum and pushing a buggy.

“Very well. But there is no guarantee she will warm to me in the same way your lady love has done with you on Asgard.”

Three days. Three days with me and he’s already softened.

“My love’s duplicate, she spent some time with us in the forests of Asgard. We were the only ones she’s known. When I brought her to Midgard, understandably she did not wish for me to leave. She knows you are not me, per say… but the physical reminder of me may conjure enough comfort until genuine affection builds between you. And besides. You are both duplicates of two souls who are very much in love in what some may call a realm-changing love story.”

The double pursed his lips together, his mouth fighting against the urge to break into a shit-eating grin. “And, pray tell me, precisely how soon after I fall in love shall I expect to lose the use of my cognitive abilities and rational thinking?”

“At least you have your sense of humour. That’s something. Now. You’re ready, I assume?”

The duplicate’s arms spread into an over-confident gesture. “Positively brimming with enthusiasm.”

After passing through a bus stop, Loki’s hands tingled with Seidr. In a flash of green, his Saville-Row-suited duplicate was dressed in fine Asgardian leather.

Loki sat at the bus stop, newspaper in hand, as he watched his duplicate walk up the steps to her home and hesitate on the threshold, his hand lifting several times before he mustered the courage to knock on the door.

He watched the scene unfold, your duplicate and his duplicate, reunited in the front room of your family’s home. He remained on watch until the sun went down.

[ NEXT PART ]

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Loki’s disguise:

His eyes closed as he pursed his lips together, his mouth tugging up at the corners as he resisted a laugh. “Well, love… quite.” He ran his long fingers through his hair before reaching for your own, twirling a strand and feeling your silky tresses kiss his fingertips. “I was referring to the news. About your lifespan.”

“I think I’m in shock to be honest. It doesn’t feel real. And, I’ve seen so much weird shit since I got here, so what’s one more thing. You know?”

“If the spell today feels too much, we shall postpone it.”

“No. I’m okay. I want to do it.”

***

“Are you in need, darling?”

You had been wriggling in front of Loki for quite some time, adjusting yourself on the leather saddle and feeling a heat rise into your cheeks. His crotch pressing into your lower back definitely wasn’t helping. You allowed the gentle, steady clip-clop of your mare’s hooves over the dry forest floor to lull you into distraction.

“I… oh… no I’m fine…”

“Are you certain? You do seem as though you wish to wet the lettuce.”

What the fuck, Loki?

You tilted your pelvis towards the tip of the saddle in a desperate bid for friction. “Mmmph.”

“Oh.” Loki’s arm snaked around your middle, his free hand passing the reigns to you. His chin rested on your shoulder as he whispered. “I know exactly what it is you need.”

You held the leather straps tightly as his long fingers worked their way through the layers of your gown’s fabric gathered in front of you. You sighed as his cool hands rested on your inner thigh. His fingertips nibbled their way up your skin, until his hand sat in the warm dip at the summit of your limb. His thumb grazed over your center. Mercifully, his fingers soon worked their way into you. He found you soaked. “They say the repetitive friction whilst upon horseback can be somewhat…” He slicked a finger up between your folds. “Arousing.”

“Mmm hmm.” You bit your lip.

“Do you want this, love?”

“Fuck. Yes…”

“Lean into me. And don’t worry about our mare.” Loki patted the side of the black horse and muttered in old Norse. “Sleipnir. Trav. Rett.”

[Sleipnir. Trot. Straight.]

You felt the strong, hard wall of Loki’s chest against your back as he worked his hands between your legs, whispering to you in his native tongue. 

Your head pressed back into his shoulder as your climax erupted from you, exploding in every cell of your being. As you regained your composure, your love stroked your hair, continuing to mumble in Old Norse. He sealed his words with a kiss on top of your head.

“You, erm… you were chanting a spell. Weren’t you.”

“Of sorts. Yes.”

“After what she said yesterday. About the intense energy of orgasm. And the frequency of love. Plus your Seidr.”

“The strong energetic vibration strengthens the bond of The Trifecta. As the Norns would have it, orgasm is the most effective method.”

“Well shit.”

He chuckled, gently teasing the black leather reigns from your tight grasp. “Sleipnir. Gå på.”

[ Sleipnir. Walk on. ]

“It’s funny that your horse speaks English.”

“Asgardian, darling. Oh! We’re almost here.”

Your mare pulled up outside a familiar cave.

Are we really going through with this? Fucking hell, Loki.

***

“This is so fucking weird.”

You stood, arms crossed, as you looked at the body lying in front of you. An hour had passed since you returned from The Oracle’s cave. The goddess performed the spell as requested, and told you the result of her incantation would be waiting for you in the cottage.

She was right – it would take some adjusting. You were not mentally prepared for this.

“She’s beautiful, love. Just like you.” Loki snaked his arm around your waist and hugged you from behind. You softened into the familiar sensation.

“Did you feel like this when you saw your own duplicate?”

“It was… odd. Yes.”

You looked down at the body, the being, once more. You tilted your head in curiosity. She was an exact replica of you. Would she talk like you? Think like you?

A whisper over your shoulder. “She will become exactly who we need her to be. Come. Let’s leave her to rest.”

***

Eight hours.

Eight hours and it’s still fucking weird.

You stood at the foot of your bed after a pre-midnight visit to the bathroom, moonlight illuminating the scene in front of you. You had fallen asleep in Loki’s arms. She lay on the opposite side of him. Loki had sandwiched himself between you both.

“It’s unnecessarily cruel, darling,” he had whispered in your ear when you covered her in a blanket as she plumped the sofa cushions behind her. “She’s be more comfortable in our bed. And besides…” You had shivered as he raked his nails gently down the side of your neck and whispered in your ear. “It would fulfill a fantasy to have the two of you.”

“Fine.” You turned to him and whispered back, conscious of your proximity to her. “She can sleep with us. But not like that.” You noticed Loki’s heavy sigh. “And don’t pout.”

“I am not pouting,” he had muttered as he scooped her up in his arms gently, his bottom lip protruding.

And here you were. Watching them. It was innocent enough. He had turned over in his sleep and snuggled into her. But it didn’t make it hurt any less. Seeing Loki embracing another woman in bed evoked a wild, feral side of you that would frighten a lesser woman.

Even if the woman he lay with was, technically, you.

As you watched the two of them breathing deeply, turning in their sleep in the fit of their dreamstate, you felt an odd sensation in your stomach.

You found yourself tilting your head, narrowing your eyes and taking in the sight with a new perspective.

She’s me.

He’s holding me.

That’s what he looks like as he’s holding me.

Who else has a real, live duplicate of themselves?

It’s actually quite beautiful.

Once I get past it freaking me the fuck out.

Loki stirred, moaning groggily as arched his back and found a more comfortable position on the pillow. Remaining asleep, he inhaled the scent of her hair – your hair? – and smiled unconsciously.

“Aww. He looks so sweet. Bless him. God he loves me so much.”

You didn’t mean to say it out loud.

Loki roused, opening his eyes and squinting at the sight of at the person he embraced. He glanced up at the figure stood at the foot of his bed. He narrowed his eyes again as he spoke to you. “You may… join us, if you wish. I understand it may be unfamiliar. But we will look after you.”

“It’s me.” You spoke flatly.

Confusion coloured his features as his sharp mind fought off the warmth of sleep to compute what transpired in his cottage bedroom.

You crossed your arms and lowered your gaze. Loki it’s me, you moron. She’s not telepathic.

“In fairness, love.” He sat up, sighing wearily. “She might be.”

A wave of his hand beckoned you over, his lifting up of the duvet an invitation you graciously accepted. As you felt the warmth of his bare chest press into your back, he inhaled the scent of your hair.

“I am sorry. I thought she was you.”

You felt your blood run cold as a hand reached over and rested on his head.

“Loki.” She whined in her sleep. “I need you.”

***

“It’s okay, you know. If you want to fuck her. She obviously likes you.”

“I will do nothing of the sort.” He craned his neck back to his black leather satchel and secured a place for a flask of warm tea for the journey. He felt a familiar chin in the crook of his head and warm arms around his waist as he bent down to readjust the items.

“It’s technically not cheating.”

A heavy sigh. He turned, his hands gripping your hips. “I will not fornicate with your duplicate. And that is the final word, my beautiful, incomparable Midgardian minx.” A thrust of his hips into you forced an involuntary moan from your lips. 

“There is no replacement for you, my love.” The soft whisper of his voice shouldn’t have made your underwear pool with desire. And yet it did. You fumbled underneath his leathers, unbuttoning his trousers. He stopped you.

“We have to go, darling. Wait for me until I return.”

[ NEXT PART ]

As Thor and the other men began kneeling around the fallen hero and asking what the matter was, Loki looked on with a bored expression plastered to his face, standing there in his chains. His mind, however, was a flurry of activity and began to formulate an escape route as one of the guards called for a medic. But, with the state his body was in, there wasn’t much he could do. What he needed now was a miracle. But it appeared that the Norns were smiling down on him. Seemingly of its own volition, the case containing the Tesseract slid across the floor. The man who had called for the medic casually picked it up and began walking away, only to be hit by the raging, green beast opening a door on him. Loki had been on the other side of the Hulk’s blows and was glad it was not him this time.

The case popped open and out slid the tesseract. Loki adjusted his foot every so slightly to stop its path across the floor. He looked down at it, hardly believing that no one was going to stop him. As the Hulk complained on about stairs, Loki looked back and forth, his brain running a mile a minute. A large part of him wanted to go home, back to Asgard, but he knew Odin and Thor would never listen to him if he told them what he’d been through. When he’d let go that day on the Bifrost, he thought he’d die, but he ended up with a fate much worse than that. And now everyone viewed him as a villain. So, he decided, that’s exactly what he’d be. Why not live up to Odin’s expectations for once? he thought bitterly. It was now or never. The people would only be distracted by the beast’s tantrum and Stark’s injury for so long. So, he bent down and picked up the tesseract, smiling behind the awful gag Thor had put on him. In his mind, he begged the glowing cube to take him anywhere, just to get him out of there. Before anyone could notice what was happening, a blue cloud enveloped him with a familiar surge of power, and he was gone.

It dumped him rather roughly on the ground in a field of pale stalks. He had no idea what planet he was on; he was too battered and bruised to do much thinking. Not to mention feeling rather drained, both of magic and energy. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized his bindings were gone, which was good at least. Still, he felt that familiar feeling of wanting to slip away into the void. Maybe he could do it successfully this time. There was nothing left for him and it would be oh so easy just to let go. As his eyes began to flutter shut, a blurry figure approached him.

“Oh my god. Are you alright sir?” it said. “Sir, can you hear me? Sir? No no no. Don’t give up on me now. Just hang on, I’ll get you help.”