Of Consultants and Jealousy
“BROTHER!”
Loki cursed as he dropped the vial he’d been holding, Seidr shooting out to catch the glass before it shattered on the stone floor.
“LOKI!” came the joyful bellow again, closer this time.
He sighed, quickly tucking away the tube into his pocket dimension before turning to greet his brother. Thor had been back only a day and he’d apparently decided they should catch up on their time spent apart by spending every waking hour together. Yay.
Thor had caught up with him by now, and gripped him in an rib-breaking embrace, careless of his brother’s lack of iron bones. Loki grimaced into Thor’s shoulder, stiff as a board before he was released. Thor was many things, perceptive of others preferences was not one of them. If Loki had it his way, he’d never touch most of the people in this room.
“Loki, fare thee well this fair morning?”
“I would be better if I had a set of fully functioning ribs.” Loki replied, frowning.
Thor merely laughed, “Ah, I’ve missed you brother, and your sharp tongue.”
The corner of Loki’s lips upturned reluctantly. Thor was a pain, but he was Loki’s pain.
“We are planning to spend some time training before the feast tonight. You will join us, of course.” It wasn’t a question.
“Naturally,” agreed Loki nonetheless, following the older boy before Thor decided to drag him bodily through the corridor. It was humiliating to say the least.
The brothers bantered and teased all the way through the palace and out into the courtyard. Really, thought Loki, for such an advanced society Asgard really needed to invest in escalators. Or lifts at least.
He nodded in greeting to Sif and The Warriors 3 where they stood stretching by the side of the training ring, swords hanging in gleaming leather sheaths. Thor bounded off to Sif, attention thankfully flitting away from his brother and onto his next hapless victim.
Fandral feigned surprise as Loki joined the warriors in their warm-ups, stretching the muscles he’d willingly neglected in Thor’s absence.
“Loki!” he cried, “Is it a blue moon? Or did Thor have to haul you over his shoulder like a fair maiden.”
“My brother wished to train together, and so I’m here. And I’d watch your tongue around Sif if I was you. Or are you so desperate for a rematch of last year?”
Fandral flushed, evidently the last time he’d made a sexist comment around Sif, which had ended with him bruised, beaten and thoroughly sore. Loki 1: Fandral:0.
“Point taken,” Fandral admitted, “So,what mischief have you been up to in the last few months then? Any foals we should know about?”
Loki resisted the temptation to scowl at the blonde. The more of a reaction Fandral got, the more he’d prod. It had been Fandral who’d started the rumour that Sleipnir was Loki’s child, conceived in the form of a mare. While it was true Loki could shapeshift, and that he technically could conceive a child, Sleipnir was a foal he’d found abandoned in the forest, and had decided to raise. And so what if Sleipnr considered Loki a mother? Many warriors have a close bond with a beloved companion, his just happened to be a horse. Who belonged to the Allfather.
“From the way you go on about childbearing, you’d think it was me rather than you who had trouble keeping his legs shut. I’ve heard horror stories.”
Fandral was saved by Thor and Sif’s call to join them in the arena. Hogun drew a line through the centre, effectively splitting the ring into two. Thor paired up with Fandral, and Hogan stood to attention opposite Sif, leaving Loki and Volstagg at the edge of the arena to wait their turns.
Volstagg called the start of the matches, and the 4 warriors jumped to action, swords crashing through the air with a ring of steel.
Loki distractedly noted their forms, picking up on weaknesses and strengths they’d picked up in the past months. Sif was leaving her right side unguarded again, and Thor had evidently neglected to keep his left arm as toned as his right, most likely due to his over-reliance on Mjolnir.
As their battle cries and shouts filled the air, Loki couldn’t help but wonder what Natasha would think of this. Doubtless the red-head would take down any one of his friends easily - she was adaptable and versatile, even when faced with Asgardian methods of battle. Her height and her dainty limbs belied a strength that with the right advantage could rival any on Asgard. Not that they’d admit it, especially since her method of fighting was more similar to his than theirs. Where someone like Thor would approach a problem head on, and attempt to crush it with brute force, Tasha had the stealth and intelligence needed to take out any enemy in minutes, often without ever having been sighted. It was truly admirable.
Loki let his mind drift back down to Midgard, to the place he’d spent a lot more time than he’d admit to anyone on Asgard. In the few months that Thor had been gone, and since he’d first met Ava, he’d visited Midgard several times, meeting both Tasha’s superiors, Ava’s father, and most of SHIELD. Much to his surprise, most of these meetings went surprisingly well, especially with both Elena’s, Clint’s and Nat’s support.
After he’d released Clint from his vine bindings, the four of them and Ava had ended up in Natasha’s rooms to have as private a conversation as they could. Loki had explained in detail about his heritage, and of Elena’s and Ava’s as well. He’d have to do some research, but he was fairly certain that Elena was a descendant of the Hawthorne line, one he’d been closely connected to in previous centuries. Many bloodlines had died out through the ages, and the Hawthornes had been yet another assumed casualty. Evidently not.
Natasha had been yet another of his correct assumptions. She did indeed possess undeveloped power, subtle but strong, and of an unfamiliar bloodline.
Loki couldn’t help but think of the chaos those women could cause with just a little training. Formidable opponents indeed. And useful ones to have on his side.
Fury had been exactly what he’d expected. Sly, cunning, manipulative to the 5th degree, but would fight to the death for those he cared about. Which was a surprising number of people.
Much to Loki surprise (not), Fury’s first port of call, after establishing that Loki was very much not going to kill everyone in the room, was to attempt to recruit him.
Loki had accepted on a purely consultant level - if Ava was going to be tied into the agency he wanted a back-door - but hadn’t completely ruled out becoming a full-time agent. If anything, it would give him an escape route if Odin became particularly unbearable.
For now, SHIELD had created him an identity within the country, a plausible backstory, and had given him a room near Nat’s for when he visited Earth. Loki found it a novelty - never before had he been required to legalise his presence within a realm, either they knew who he was, or he remained anonymous for his stay. So the badge currently sitting in his pocket dimension, embossed with the name Luka Skye, was an amusing first for him.
Once the management had been convinced, the rest of SHIELD had fallen into line with ease, accepting him as their own with barely more than a blink. The agents of SHIELD had seen a lot in their time, and a literal God could pass as part of the furniture. Plus he fixed their coffee machine, and so was generally regarded a hero among the sleep-deprived in their ranks.
In fact, the most difficult introduction he’d had was Michael. Loki had taken a dislike to the man from the first meeting - his chipper attitude grated on his nerves, and the adoration he showered down on Elena and Ava made him uneasy in a way he couldn’t quite understand. It was suffocating, that's what it was. Michael strangled his family with his protective measures. Even Elena, who was head-over-heels in love with him, admitted that he sometimes went over the top when it came to his wife and child. Not that Loki could claim any different, his protection was merely more subtle.
Meeting Michael had been the third time Loki had visited Midgard since that first fateful morning, and as such Loki had managed to finish his gift to Ava, a gem that hung from a chain of the finest gold links Nilfheim could produce. What was special about, though, was not the chain, or the glowing emerald jewel, but the enchantments Loki had woven into the very fabric of its being. Every shining facet was imbued with protection spells, both of a magical nature, and from more straightforward physical attack. Odin himself could come charging at her, the power of Asgard behind him, and it wouldn’t so much as dent her shields.
The rest of these spells, Loki had been deliberately vague about. It would be fun to watch Ava discover them, one by one, as different scenarios played out. As long as she wore the gem, she’d never be too hot, never be too cold. She’d never have a paper cut, or scald herself in water. Snow wouldn’t melt in her palms, flowers would bloom if she said the right words.
Most impressively, it had the ability to change shapes. With just a thought, the chain could become a bracelet, or a stone-set ring. The gem could be red, or blue, or deepest night. She could even have a sword swinging at her waist, or a dagger in a golden sheath.
It was truly a unique piece. Nothing like it had ever been made before, and nothing would again.
Elena had been delighted with it, fastening the chain around Ava’s neck as soon as Loki had reassured her that it was physically impossible for the charm to do her harm. Even Nat had been astounded by its shift into a smaller pendant, fitting perfectly around the girl's neck. Ava herself had been delighted, as far as the month old could be, hands closed tightly around the gem, eyes fastened to the swirling lights within.
Unlike his wife, however, Michael had been less than pleased. In fact, he’d been quietly furious, arguing in harsh whispers with his wife on the other side of the room. Loki had picked up more than a few less-than-desirable phrases, generally used to indicate him. Jokes on you thought Loki, I happen to love both men AND glitter.
To Loki’s ever present satisfaction, after that particular conversation, Elena didn’t talk to Michael until he apologized, albeit grudgingly, to the God, and thanked him for the necklace.
Bastard.
But Michael withstanding, Loki was now an official part of the Midgard community, or at least among those in the know.
Thor could never know, of course, nor Father, or even his Mother. Norns knew what Father would do if he discovered Loki was fraternizing with the locals - Odin held a rule that Asgard must not interfere with the dealings of the ‘lesser’ realms as they were known, mainly from their inhabitants' unfortunately short lifespans. Even Thor himself, the golden child, wasn’t an exception to that rule, as he’d discovered in his early teens. Loki had been the equivalent of 6 Midgard years at the time, Thor had been 15, and both remembered the scolding Thor had received from their father, possibly the first true scolding he’d ever received. Naturally, Thor hadn’t forgotten that quickly, and had kept the rule religiously, almost to the point of obsession.
And thus, Loki’s visits to Midgard were decidedly more under-the-radar than Thor’s. Loki preferred to integrate himself into the communities, often joining various covens across the ages, and travelling under the guise of humanity for his stay, a ruse most Aesir couldn’t conceive. Them? Lowering themselves to humans? Abhorrent.
Abhorrent regardless, it worked, and Loki had travelled across Midgard many times in the last few hundred years, forming connections and allegiances that would last through the ages.
Once Thor had returned, and with his instance for spending time with his brother, Loki had had to forgo his weekly visits to Midgard, instead having to be content with the occasional dream-walk to check up on his goddaughter. It was irritating to say the least, and Loki found himself missing the girl, as well as her various protectors. Before her, it had been a good few years since he’d visited Midgard, and he had forgotten how refreshing humanity was, its ever-rushing river of life washing away Asgard’s stagnated lakes. Humans were much better company than the Aesir.
Well, the nobles at least. Kas would be awfully offended if that particular opinion was expressed to him. Like Loki, Kas had dramatic tendencies to the highest degree. He had often been Loki’s companion on his visits to Midgard, and the one time Loki had mentioned how much more he liked humans than Aesir, Kas had cast himself to the floor and had refused to speak to him for a full 6 hours. Which for Kas was a bloody miracle.
Loki had ended up telling half the kitchen the entire story when Kas had found out. It was easier than telling Kas alone, who’d tell Viola, who’d tell everyone else, and having to repeat his story until Amara ended up hitting one of them. He’d learnt from his past mistakes.
In the end, he’d promised to take Kas to meet Ava at some point, and had agreed to bring Ava to visit Asgard when she was old enough to meet the others. It was honestly the safest compromise.
Amara herself had been very amused at the situation.
“Norns help the boy who crosses that child,” she chuckled.
Loki had smiled, “I for one wouldn’t wish to see an angry Natasha.”
“I was referring to you, actually, although Lady Romanov seems formidable too. ”
“I-”
She cuffed his head, “I’ve known you since you were a babe, Odinson - and you are utterly smitten with this child.”
“I am merely fulfilling my role as - “
“Role, schmole. You love that girl, and she’ll love you. You’ll be a good father. Possibly a great one.”
“Amara! She has a father. She doesn’t need two. And I have no interest in Elena.”
“I never said you did, or that she doesn’t. But trust me - I've been around for a while, and I know a parent when I see one. Oh, don’t scowl at me, you know it too.” she sighed theatrically, “but if it makes you feel better, we’ll dub you older brother for a while.”
Kas had coincidentally rounded the corner at that moment and had shouted, “I’M AN UNCLE!”
“Norn’s help that girl.”
Loki agreed.
-----
“Loki?”
Loki was suddenly snapped out of his reverie by Thor, calling across the arena to him, sword at the ready. He shook his head, clearing his mind, before crossing to his brother, and pulling a shortsword off the weapons rack. He’d much prefer to fight with his daggers, but as they were seen as a ‘womanly’ weapon, and unbefitting of a man, he’d have to make do with this for the moment. He carefully tested its balance, deeming it fit enough, before turning to face his brother, dropping into a fighting stance. On the other side of the ring, Hogun, who’d won his match, was preparing to face Volstagg.
Thor pulled up his sword as well, a large broadsword, and hefty with it. Sif called out the start signal, and Thor rushed straight in, going for the straight forward attack. Loki sidestepped, spinning back around with a counter attack, going for Thor’s vulnerable left arm. He missed by a hairbreadth, and ducked to avoid Thor’s swing. He settled quickly into his battle state, mind slipping from thought into pure tactics. And then he began his true assault.