Chapter 3
They dropped Wanda off at the police station to recover and wait for questioning. Unfortunately, they also had to stay to answer questions and give information for a police report.
By the time they got back to the tower, the sun had gone down and everyone was exhausted. No one took any time in changing to leave for their rooms.
“Hey Spangles, show Loki to the guest room, would ya?” Stark didn’t wait for an answer before leaving.
The Captain shook his head, hastily changing from his uniform to his casual attire. As he took off the top half of his uniform, the sound of metal clinking caught Loki off-guard.
Phantom chains clung around his wrists and ankles, as if Loki stood in the throne room of Asgard yet again, awaiting his punishment.
“As you all know, Tyr has recently suffered the loss of a dear friend of his,” Odin began, speaking to the small assembly of nobles, “Skinfaxi fought alongside Tyr, carrying him through even his worst battles.”
Tyr nodded, though he seemed confused. The assembly, too, fell silent, apprehensive.
Why would Odin mention Tyr’s old war horse now?
He gestured to Loki, “It is only fitting to gift you a horse as intelligent as he was.”
The room erupted in gasps of shock, confusion, and horror. Tyr had always been known as a fearsome warrior, and even he seemed taken aback at the Allfather’s word. Only the soldiers seemed unbothered.
But Odin had already struck Gungnir against the ground, and Loki had already fallen to the ground with a muffled cry of pain.
The cry quickly became a shrill whinny as bones shifted and crunched. A coat of dense white hair replaced his black and green garments, and his black hair lengthened to a mane.
He reared up on his hind legs, but the soldiers quickly brought him back to the ground with a yank of the chains. Furious, Loki lunged at one of the soldiers, only to have his legs pulled out from under him from two different directions.
They laughed as he tried and failed to get up again. They pulled the chains tighter. One of the younger soldiers spat in his face.
Odin didn’t bat an eye. He merely glared down at Loki with the same disappointed, disgusted scowl he had worn for as long as Loki could remember.
The Captain stared back at him, and suddenly Loki realized he’d kept him waiting.
“Apologies,” he said, deflecting the concern in the Captain’s eyes with a question, “What is that, around your neck?”
He gestured towards the grey tags hanging around the Captain’s neck.
“What?” The Captain looked down at the tags, “Oh, these are my dog tags . . . from the war.”
“Dog tags?”
“Our names are engraved on them, in case something were to happen.”
Curious, Loki held one of the tags to get a closer look, rubbing a thumb over the engraved name “James B. Barnes” with furrowed brows.
“But it isn’t your name,” he looked up at the Captain, only now noticing how close they were.
“He was my best friend,” The Captain said bluntly, leading Loki out into the hallway.
Loki wanted to know more, but suspected the Captain wouldn’t want to talk about it, so he followed him into the elevator without a word.
They stood silently as the elevator rose, the only noise the sound of a mechanical tune that came from speakers in the ceiling, until the Captain seemed to relent, and his expression softened.
“We swapped the tags for good luck. He claimed you couldn’t die wearing the wrong tags. . . I guess he was wrong.”
“I’m sorry,” Loki spoke softly.
“Thank you.”
The doors slid open, and he led Loki down a hallway of an array of decorated doors to a single door. White, two paneled, and plain, aside from the word “guest” plastered in gold.
“Here we are,” the Captain said, opening the door with a flourish to let Loki in.
In a word, luxurious. Not as spacious as his bedchambers in Asgard, but . . . cozy.
A decent-sized bed, with a single end table and a desk. A large window ran parallel to the bed, casting moonlight into the darkened room.
The Captain flicked the light switch, and gestured to a door Loki hadn’t noticed before.
“Bathroom’s right there if you’d like to shower,” he said, “Other than that, just let us know if you need anything.”
Why would they give him a room as nice as this? And they were concerned about his comfort as well?
Loki couldn’t keep the shocked confusion from reaching his expression.
A trick, surely.
They couldn’t be serious, but then, no one stopped him when he went to sit on the bed, testing the softness of the blankets.
A bedroom, all to himself? A servant and prisoner?
The Captain lingered for a moment in the doorway, before clearing his throat awkwardly, “I’ll, uh, see you around, then.”
“Thank you, Captain.”