There
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Loki was lying down, spread out on the cold floor and staring up at the ceiling of the Grandmaster’s orgy ship.
They had escaped Sakaar; him, Thor, Valkyrie and Banner. Friends had been lost along the way, but that was unimportant now.
He had time. So much time, just to sit back and relax. And that’s what Loki intended to do.
After being locked up in that filthy prison and forced to fight every other day, the first thing he had done upon realising there was a functioning sink was to wash himself very thoroughly. He tried his best not to think about what said sink was for - orgy ship - but he was so disgustingly covered in gore and muck that it wasn’t difficult to forget. The taste of old blood had taken far too long to wash out of his mouth. And then he lay down and refused to get up again, slept away what had to be a day or two by the almost-concerned glances Banner shot him when he finally returned to consciousness. The mortal didn’t seem to understand that recovering from near death-by-exhaustion required sleep. And a lot of it. Even though Loki had only taken a few minutes to be functional during the battle, he had burnt out twice in the span of a day - there were consequences.
Like passing out for worrying amounts of time.
So. Rested, reasonably safe and content - albeit a bit warm; the Asgardians had taken charge of the thermostat. Leaving him to soak up all the cold he could from the wooden floor; being stuck as a Jötnar was inconvenient, Æsir glamour or no. Curse Odin and his meddling. Loki let out a soft sigh as his eyes tracked gently curving patterns into the blank metal above his head. Around where he was stretched out on the floor, soaking in the cold, feet were pattering about and hushed, relaxed voices accompanied them. Normally, he would never allow himself to be so relaxed… But if they wanted him dead, it would have been easy to do whilst he was asleep, or during the escape from Sakaar. In fact, they could have simply left him for dead a couple of times. Thinking on it conjured the memory of Thor’s worried face and strong grip when he pulled Loki from the Grandmaster’s throne room and into their ship during their escape from Sakaar.
He breathed deeply and let the tension slip away. It was nice, not worrying about whether or not he would have to fight today, whether or not he would be alive in the near future, whether or not Thor was dead. And it was infinitely better than Asgard, with that incessant burning and disdainful guards. And one particular Einherjar.
Loki was content. More content than he had been in a long time, at least.
For most of the trip so far, he had been left undisturbed. But it didn’t last. Banner decided to risk his wrath, and there was a dull thump as he sat down next to Loki, leaning back against the wall.
Minutes trickled past in silence, which slowly grew more awkward, with the Prince resolutely not fiddling, but Banner shifted every few seconds until he finally opened his mouth and spoke, “So…” And promptly stopped again, wringing his hands.
Loki grumbled and turned his head slightly, so that he could glower up at the impertinent mortal. Whom had disturbed his rest, which had been verging on boredom. He couldn’t decide whether to be dramatically annoyed or dramatically thankful. He settled for dramatic. With eyebrow quirking for effect. “Yes?”
“The other guy seems to like you.”
“He bit off my finger and nearly killed me,” Loki kept the incredulity from his face and tone, but only just. He hadn’t been expecting that. Maybe something more tame, such as ‘you tried to conquer my planet’.
Banner just shrugged in response, “If he didn’t like you, it wouldn’t just be nearly.”
There had to be something more to say after that, since he didn’t get up, so Loki settled in to wait. Because he was not going to be the one initiating conversation. Now that Thor was around again, he had to be careful with what he did. He actually had an image to uphold around these people, unlike back on Sakaar. Said image was already mostly ruined (see: fainting in combat and assorted poor conversation choices), but he could at least try.
More minutes flowed away. Beneath his back, the engines thrummed comfortingly, vibrating gently through his armour and body. It seemed to encourage his eyes to fall closed and conjured images that he shouldn’t have been able to remember. Of curling up into soft cloth, supported by encompassing, warm, safe arms and humming rumbling through his tiny bones. The scent of honey tickled his nose, mixed with campfires and he took a deep breath of it. Not much longer now, and it wouldn’t just be his mind playing tricks on him. He would smell it for himself - burning wood and roasting meat and freshly picked herbs mixed with pine needles. Air escaped him in a soft sigh. At least there was an up side to going crazy.
Banner shifted again. “I trust his judgement. On character, that is. And if he likes you, I’ll believe you won’t go on a murder spree. Again.”
“Think what you will,” Loki said. “You are Thor’s concern, not mine.”
“I guess that’s good for me, then,” He smiled a bit, “I can tell you missed him. Or were worried. Something. Probably to do with you caring more than you let on.”
Was he that easy to read? “If you hadn’t noticed, Thor’s my brother. I’m allowed to be… Curious about his dead-or-alive status.”
A shocked-sounding laugh pushed itself out of Banner’s mouth, which was immediately clamped shut. Then he stared at Loki, as if both seeing him for the first time and terrified his tongue would be ripped out. When he got himself under control, he spoke with a small smile, “So that’s what you call it.”
“Apparently.”
More silence, but this time without Banner’s constant shuffling and fidgeting, which was a relief. He simply listened to the murmur of engines, accompanied by soft thuds and puffs of breath from the sparring match which had struck up between Thor and Valkyrie whilst they had been talking.
Loki managed to accept his brother’s presence, which he was rather glad for. It was annoying to feel his stomach tighten and ribs squeeze until he was about to be sick when he would look around and Thor wasn’t in sight. It hadn’t happened since about a day ago, so he hoped the stupid sentiment had been banished to the depths of Hel with the Grandmaster, where it belonged. As for the old animosity between them… It hadn’t struck up again. There were half-hearted attempts on his end, out of habit, but Thor was just so apathetic to him in general that he’d give up midway through a sentence.
Which left them at a bit of a standstill. Loki didn’t know how to interact with him, now. Outside of battle and without any clearly defined relationship, he was utterly lost. And Thor wasn’t helping either. He didn’t initiate the usual conversation when Loki had done something ‘bad’, in which the younger Prince would play at remorse and joke about, but was eventually forgiven, and would forgive in turn if necessary. That’s how this went.
Loki did something: a prank, genocide, became a snake. Thor would come up to him later on - never more than a week - and tell him to come back. Come back to the training fields, come back to the dining hall or come back down to the playroom, Lo! There’s this new sword I want to try out and it’s no fun by myself-! And Loki would joke and snigger and maybe jibe at him, play with words and tell Thor what part he had to play, so he knew that some of the blame had to fall on his shoulders, too. There would be much impatient nodding and bright, pleading eyes and Loki would just laugh and say he was sorry, in a round-about way. Then all would be forgotten, until a few weeks later, and yet another trick was pulled and the cycle would begin again.
But the cycle wasn’t beginning again. When they talked, Thor was friendly, but distant, as if waiting for a knife in his back and not wanting to be hurt by the betrayal which came with it. It stung; far more than he thought it would. However, Loki understood.
He’d done far too much, at this point, for his brother to ever truly trust him again. He knew that. Had known it for a while now. Plenty of time to reflect on it whilst in Asgard’s dungeons, burning away without anyone to save him. And all because of his own actions. In a way, he owed Hela his life, and even sanity for getting him out of that deep pit. Not a pleasant thought, but that didn’t make it any less true. None of these were pleasant thoughts.
At least Thor didn’t seem worried about Loki outright killing him. Perhaps he had realised they needed each other. But he was still distant. Still expecting a blow from behind with accompanying insane laughter and a speech about how he had been wronged. Which wasn’t unwarranted, but there were important things, now. If they didn’t work together, Asgard would fall and Loki couldn’t allow that. He just couldn’t, and he didn’t want to think about why. Because he knew the answer would be dangerously sentimental.
Thor wasn’t expecting a killing blow, at least. Loki supposed that was a good thing. An improvement.
As per usual, whatever tension the large Æsir felt was being taken out physically. From what he could see, it was a rather playful spar, with Valkyrie teasing him and Thor chuckling at whatever she said. By his side, Banner had relaxed, feet stretched out in front of him and slumped against the wall. He was watching the bout with a small smile on his face, soft with fondness. A flash of- was that jealousy? Why? Loki blinked, stunned. Him. Jealous. Of a mortal? His stint in Asgard must have turned his brain to mush.
Confused, he turned his attention back to Banner and studied him.
There was nothing groundbreaking in his expression, just a tilt up of the lips and crinkling about the eye. A genuine smile, as far as he could tell. Perhaps it was the freedom with which he did this. Just a simple smile and Loki couldn’t hide his scowl. Shit. He didn’t want to deal with this.
His bloody feelings - even in his mind, the word was spat out like a foul taste - didn’t want to leave him alone and meekly go back in their little, locked-away box. And it was annoying.
But Loki pulled in a deep breath. Slowly let it out through his mouth. He’d had enough of panicking over such small things and he now had time to not do that. Rest. Relax. Nothing but eat, sleep and drink. And try to appear harmless so to not set off the Hulk in a small, pressurised container. In deep space.
Somewhere deep in him the broken pieces which had cracked away were healing after being shattered and kept apart by Asgard and Sakaar. Now, with even this little amount of time, he was feeling more like himself. Less ready to attack someone for no reason. Less angry. But less of a lot was still a sizable amount.
More manageable.
It was unfamiliar, after so long having a metaphorical spear of anger and pain shoved in his chest, twisted and wrenched since the Void. Until it pervaded most everything. But that pointed weapon was becoming dull, it seemed. And Loki let that thought lull him back into sleep, soaking up the cold from the wood-panelled floor with his brother only metres away.
Hopefully, that dreaded hollowness would be gone before long. Thor was already doing a miraculous job of healing it, simply by being alive.
♛ ♕ ♚ ♔ ♜ ♖ ♝ ♗ ♞ ♘ ♟ ♙
When he woke again, Banner was snoring at his side. Soft and almost a purr, it reminded him of jogging along the endless corridor, since Moth’s sounded almost exactly the same. Perhaps it was common to large, green creatures.
Beneath him, the thrum of engines had quietened and he slowly stood, almost immediately missing the cool floor. Æsir and their love of slightly-above-comfortable temperatures. It was getting annoying, even with his old heat management spell still working.
At the window, silhouetted against vast blackness, was Thor.
Past him were nebulae and stars and the flowing arms of Yggdrasil, stretching out in curling ropes made up of thousands upon thousands of sparkling pinpricks.
And, as he stood, he could see a far larger, far more welcome sight emerge.
Asgard.
Loki felt his eyes widen and his steps falter. Thor turned to look, but he paid no attention to him. Walked up to the glass and stared with only a token effort to mask his expression.
She was a disk of land, floating in the middle of the cosmos. Light flowed from her, to her. Roads of magic which kept her steady in the tides of darkness about. Hanging on Yggdrasil’s branches, water tumbled over the sides and vanished into mist, sparkling as bright as the stars. Even from as far away as they still were, Loki could trace the great rivers, tumbling up sheer rock into graceful lines which curved back and forth across green planes and great forests. Oh, he remembered how great they were! Looking up to see only green, dappled leaves with golden beams shining through to alight and warm everything beneath. As if Yggdrasil had reached down and wrapped a comforting tendril of magic about her child; a blanket of sparkling energy. Water so clear it was possible to lean over, look in and see the pebbles beneath as if nothing separated air from the river bed. That river bed, which would wind over Asgard, through her cities and towns and up into the high mountains as a burbling stream. Out of these green plains with winding rivers of deep blue, Asgard’s cities slowly built up, from low, softly twinkling gemstones into great, towering shards of brilliant gold.
When Loki’s eyes settled on the palace, his throat became host to a boulder.
His home was there. Not rubble. Not with piles of corpses. Not burnt to ash. But there.
Its spires rose up, out of the houses and shops and markets into space above, gold sparkling in the starlight. Framing it was a nebula of red and royal purple, starburst in twisting flames out from a majestic centre. The honey coloured metal reflected them, meeting point between the natural beauty of space and the Æsir’s most skilled architects.
“You really meant it…”
Loki startled from his reverie. Glanced to his side to see Thor looking back at him, the mask which had been in place these past few days absent, to reveal surprise, but also a kindness there hadn’t been since Midgard.
“Really meant what?”
“That you don’t want to fight anymore. That Asgard’s your home.”
Loki hummed and leant his head against the glass, soaking up the chill of space. Hanging there in front of him like a jewel, the Realm Eternal dragged his eyes back to her. “I told you. I’m too tired to lie.”
“You are never too tired to lie,” Thor said, but it was light and accompanied by a smile.
Another hum in answer and he stared out into the unknown before them.
Thor sighed and a dull thunk announced his forehead against the window. “I can’t forget what you’ve done, Loki. And I deserve an explanation, but Asgard is more important. We get the flies off her back first.”
He swallowed. “Yes. Truce?”
“If that’s not already going on.”
“One rule.”
Out the corner of his eye, Loki saw him peer over.
“Yeah?”
“We trust each other. I’m not going to betray you, I hope that you won’t betray me.”
Thor turned fully to face him, “You’ll want your magic back, then.”
“Naturally.”
His eyes narrowed slightly in the usual look of concentration. They stood like that, with Thor studying Loki for any signs of deceit, until he slowly dipped his head. “I’ll try. One rule.”
Loki smiled and nodded back, then was looking out on Asgard.
Neither spoke again for the next few hours, only watched in companionable silence as the Realm Eternal grew steadily closer.
Seeing her again… At first, he was filled with wonder. But then memories of being left, abandoned and forgotten in that dungeon came back to him. He would have to face Odin - now that was a terrifying thought.
Perhaps he’d even see Sif and the Warriors Three again… He didn’t know how that would work out. Would all be forgiven? Would they work with them because Thor was their trusted leader? Loki prided himself on being able to predict those idiots, but he wasn’t sure, this time. So much had changed…
Well. It might have changed, but Loki had a task, and that was to ensure Asgard wasn’t burnt to the ground. To get Hela off his Realm and make her regret the day she decided to return. It was going to be a long fight and when he fled afterwards - anything to avoid that cell - then he would know his remaining family and home was safe. From this threat at least.
But something else was nagging him, too, “Thor… When you interrupted my fight with the Hulk. You didn’t recognise me.”
A soft sigh from next to him, “Yeah I-... You know when you’ve used your magic too much and all your illusions kind of just… dissolve?”
Oh. Well that explained it. Loki automatically glanced down at his hands and ran a thumb over the scar set into his palm that his current appearance was bound to.
“I’ve never seen you like that before and your hair was short and I didn’t know and I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said… About you being malformed or any of-”
“It’s okay, Thor,” Loki glanced at him, only just keeping a small smile from his face, but he didn’t completely halt the softening at the edges of his lips and eyes. An almost-smile. He was simply glad Thor, a famously bloodthirsty warrior, hadn’t killed him on sight - it was progress. And the regret now was… Touching.
The older Prince sighed again, looked worried, “It’s damaged on your cheek, too… Might want to cover that when we go down there.”
He’d forgotten that. Loki ran his fingertips gently over his skin, where a stray blast from defending the quinjet had scorched his face and, more importantly, the illusion. It was rougher than the surroundings, which were still covered by his magic. A small ridge ran through the gash of blue and he traced it, only a few centimetres until it smoothed out again.
A small cough and Loki started, glanced over to see his brother watching him, eyes soft. “How did you wound the Hulk, anyway? He was burnt pretty bad, when I first saw him. Thought you didn’t have your magic.”
Loki self-consciously dropped his hand from where it had been tracing the skin. “I don’t. But, there’s this form of… Instinctual seiðr which uses up your life energy, without taking from Yggdrasil. Your soul, if you will.”
“But when you vaporised them at the quinjet? And then whatever you did with the Grandmaster.”
“I used your connection to Yggdrasil, and later an enchanted weapon,” It was reassuring - explaining magic to his brother was familiar ground. And a lot less terrifying than discussing his heritage. “But it is a poor substitute for what Odin bound. The power of the World Tree is such that without protection, it will cause burnout. That’s what happened when I lost consciousness. My connection protects me from it, as did Lævateinn to an extent, but yours is untrained and wouldn’t protect you, let alone a foreign presence. Even with our bond.”
“Our bond?” Thor seemed to have relaxed, too, lulled by the topic.
“Well, I might be adopted, but Yggdrasil calls us brothers.”
He snorted, “Good to know you’re seeing sense, if only because ‘magic says so’.”
Loki rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to jump off the Rainbow Bridge again over it. If that’s what you’re asking.” Too much to do. Afterwards, though...
“You better not, I only just got you back.” And then there was an arm over Loki’s shoulder, warm and heavy and he stiffened, wary. “I don’t care, brother. If you betray me, I will kill you. But until then… This is your last chance.”
“I thought Malekith was my last chance.”
“It was. Then you died and turned up in father’s dungeon.”
“Well. I was going to betray you, then you died to Hela, fell out of the sky and fought a certain monster. And I find myself unwilling to kill you.”
Thor chuckled, “I guess our truce might just work.”
Loki smiled and felt himself relax, “Hopefully. Now get that filthy, sweaty pile of beef you call an arm off of me.”
Another laugh, less soft this time, but all that happened was his arm tightened, and tugged Loki in until he was pressed up against his brother’s side. He had no time to react, because a fist came up and began to scratch roughly at his scalp and he yelped.
Loki gasped and flailed, shoving at his brother’s far stronger torso, but there was no give and he squawked louder when the knuckles dug in in response. “You foul lug of a Prince-!” He yelped, but couldn’t keep his tone serious and broke into huffing laughter halfway through. “I thought you’d grown past a few hundred, Thor!”
There was an evil grin on the oaf’s face as he tightened his grip on his slippery detainee. “Says you, only a few years past your majority!”
Loki scowled and tried to escape again, but only got his hands caught behind his back in a gentle, but strong grip. “I could be older than you!” Another half-hearted escape attempt and Thor snorted, but let him go with a last good scrape across his skull. “You’ll regret this when I actually do some research and it turns out Jötnar reach majority in five-hundred years.”
“But, little brother, that’d make you an old man.”
“My arse, old man,” Loki snorted and couldn’t control his grin. It felt good to joke again, even if about this.
Thor laughed, “Your arse? There’s not enough of it to swear on!”
Loki snorted.
“Bony-bottomed menace,” Thor rarely had a mischievous expression, but this one certainly was, “Poor mother, when we sat on her lap for stories you needed to go get a cushion after five minutes or she’d refuse to tell it.”
Loki stepped back a ways, then ran forward but swiftly ducked under his brother’s arms, which swung up to ward him off, came around and leapt onto his back, clamped his hands over Thor’s mouth and grinned. He was far too pleased with himself for succeeding in such a childish, rough-housing manoeuvre, but the bubbling joy in his chest wouldn’t allow any other expression. “Not another word!” He declared triumphantly.
And then a guffaw filled the second-long silence and Loki twisted, despite his position piggy-back on his brother. And stared, mortified, at the incredulous mortal staring at them. He swiftly scrambled off, but there were arms under his knees, holding him on just as they did long ago, when running through the plains of grass so high it reached up to Loki’s shoulders even when riding on Thor’s back.
“I must be dreaming,” Were the first words out of Banner’s mouth. “And does anyone have a camera?”
Loki nodded, struggled against the tight hold on his legs, but wasn’t released. He could imagine the evil grin on his brother’s face. “Yes. You’re definitely dreaming. And no camera.”
“Why, brother, are you scared of a mortal?” Thor was definitely grinning. Evilly.
Before he could denounce that absurd idea, Banner was talking again. “But now you’re denying it I think this might actually be real.”
“Well yes, this is totally, most certainly happening. Your alien invader is having a piggy-back ride off your teammate. Who is his arch enemy.”
“Arch frenemy,” Thor corrected rather happily.
Loki stared down at the head of gold hair, “Frenemy. Did you pick that up on Midgard?”
“I was searching for the Gems a while. A few trips to Earth were going to happen.”
Banner stared at them a moment longer, then shook his head. “I didn’t really believe you were brothers, before. Now I see it,” He sighed, “I’m gonna sleep. Wake me up when we actually reach the place. Oh, and Loki?”
He hummed and stared at the mortal.
“Don’t slit my throat.” With that, Banner turned back and shuffled back to the stretch of floor he had claimed.
Thor refused to let Loki go, which he accepted when the mortal was lying down, back facing them. “Well,” The older Prince said. “At least he’s not angry.”
He hummed, shrugged and looked out the window. Asgard was drifting ever closer. “A few more hours and we’ll be there…”
“Hopefully it won’t be a battlefield.”
Loki smiled a little, “How dare you, Thor. All Æsir want is battlefields.”
“And from my experience as a war-hungry Æsir, we should get some rest.”
“Not the worst idea you’ve ever had. You’d need to let go of me.”
But neither of them moved away. They just stood (and awkwardly sat), staring out at their home as they slowly approached. After a while, Loki relaxed against his brother’s back and leant his head on his arms, crossed across broad shoulders. His legs were starting to ache, but he didn’t mind. If Thor wanted a hug - odd as it was - Loki didn’t mind, especially now that Banner was snoring in the corner and with Valkyrie out of the way in the cockpit. And no cameras nearby.
Hours seemed to pass and his eyes stung, knees grew sore and head heavy. Then Thor yawned, head tilting backward and hit him on the nose. Loki blinked, then wriggled a bit until his brother let him go, tapped down to the floor. Stood side-by-side for a moment. Next to him, Thor’s head was starting to loll forward, eyes drifting shut. His ability to sleep anywhere, even standing up, had always baffled Loki. With a put upon sigh, he gently steered the Æsir to a corner, close to one of the heating vents. Pushed him down onto his side, which met with a sleepy grumble, but then subsided into deeper snoring as Thor shifted and got comfortable. Blocking the vent; maybe it would be cool enough for Loki to get some decent sleep.
As he settled down, closer to the window than usual, it seemed at first he was incapable of drifting off, mind whirring with all that could have happened and might yet happen once they reached the Realm Eternal.
But it only took a few minutes and Thor’s loud snoring to lull Loki into sleep.
Apparently, slipping back into their old patterns and familiarity wasn’t as difficult as he had thought. Childish and embarrassing, but it meant things were fixable. And if Loki had to give up some of his pride to mend what little remained of his family, that was an easy decision.
♛ ♕ ♚ ♔ ♜ ♖ ♝ ♗ ♞ ♘ ♟ ♙
Valkyrie woke them with whoops, far too energetic for the morning. If it even was morning - time lost all meaning in space.
Loki groaned and rolled over, hiding his head - more specifically his ears - with his hands. And then the fog of sleep lifted just enough for him to remember the sight of Asgard from last night. In moments he was up and at the window, staring out at his home.
Only a few hours had passed, but the previously distant disc of land now took up the entire view, with only small slivers of space visible. They were going to make it. By the Norns they would actually make it!
Loki pulled in a small gasp for air. His heart was racing, thumping a staccato into his ribcage and he could barely believe that what he had been working towards all this time was at hand. His palm lifted, almost by itself, to press into the window.
“We’re here…” Thor whispered at his side.
“Well. Nearly,” Loki replied, quite proud of how he kept the tremor from his voice.
Valkyrie appeared on the elder Prince’s other side. “Hold the celebrations until we actually land.”
Banner padded up next to Loki, “So that’s Asgard…”
The four stood like that, looking out for a while. They watched as the last stretch was crossed and flames began to lick at the window as they entered the atmosphere.
And then black shards were flying up from the surface.
Loki hissed out a curse and stumbled back. Movement exploded in the ship. Banner ran to the pilot’s chair with a stream of high-pitched, panicked words flowing from his lips but determination in the line of his shoulders. Valkyrie quickly wrapped her hands about the turbo laser and nodded sharply at Loki. Who stared back at her for a moment, then quickly found the button to open up the hold and pushed it after a moment’s hesitation.
Immediately, strong wind buffeted him, but they weren’t sucked out into space, so he counted it as a win.
A yell and Valkyrie’s entire body was rocking as she fired the massive weapon, a hail of bolts rained down on the Realm Eternal from their ship, swooping down. Loki couldn’t hold in an exhilarated laugh and he leaned out, breathed in the clear air of Asgard for the first time in too long. Campfires, herbs and pine needles.
Then a shard of black sprung out of seemingly nowhere, shot effortlessly up and he flinched back, just in time. Scowled down at the supposedly empty fields blurring beneath them, “Can you see her?” He yelled over the wind.
Valkyrie only nodded in answer, her lips thin in concentration. Another shard, but Loki batted it away. They were still too high up for even Hela’s impressive abilities to bridge the distance with enough force and speed that they’d be a true danger. But he was useless here, hanging half-out the ship. And a fall from such a height would be disastrous without his seiðr, so the younger Prince swung himself back in. Turned and made his way to the pilot’s seat where Banner was bent over the controls.
Thor glanced up and grinned, sharp, in greeting. Loki gestured for him to go help Valkyrie and took up his brother’s place next to Banner. Thor was more a warrior than he had ever been, so it wasn’t too much of a surprise when he heard the familiar thump of heavy footsteps on the roof. What was it with Asgardians and fighting whilst moving? Ship-roof was apparently similar enough to horseback for them.
Looking up at Loki, the mortal offered an uneasy smile, “Any idea how to get through this? Because a fiery death doesn’t sound too fun.”
Just then, a bolt of energy shot up, but from one of the cities ahead of them. Asgard’s anti-aircraft weaponry wasn’t destroyed, then. Loki wrapped his hands round the stick, over Banner’s hands and yanked. He heard the metal pop from heat as it passed bare centimetres from the wing. “Concentrate!” He hissed, let go of the mortal.
Wide eyes in the corner of his vision, then the back of his head as he turned to his task with a few muttered words, but Loki’s fingers were dancing over the controls. In the days they had been trapped aboard the orgy ship, there hadn’t been much to do except fiddle with the multitude of buttons. And one thing he had been able to figure out was the radio, not too dissimilar from the second ship he had stolen. What a shame they hadn’t kept that one, fast as it was. There hadn’t been much of it after crashing into the Grandmaster’s tower, unfortunately.
Quick flick of the switches and he held down on the little button, brought the microphone to his face. “Asgard, this is the ship. Small-ish, gold, getting shot at by the evil shards of death woman. You hear me?”
Crackling, but a voice appeared miraculously. “We read you. Declare the identities of those aboard the vessel.”
“A mortal, Valkyrie, certain God of Thunder and one war criminal.” He was blabbering, damnit. That was being blamed on Asgard. Another blast, far too close for comfort and the entire ship rocked. “Stop shooting at us!!”
Pause, only crackling.
Faint sounds of an argument from the other end, but then the voice came through again. “You’re clear, but I swear to the Norns if you don’t help us…”
“Don’t worry, I’m dead if I betray you,” Loki looked out the cockpit and winced as a shard of black metal pierced their wing and Banner fought with the stick, knuckles white. He released the button and crackling cut out. A second later and his fingers were flying across the controls again, tweaking dials and flicking switches. With a hole punched through their wing, and since they were now working with friction because of the atmosphere, there were adjustments to be made.
Thankfully, no more golden bolts shot at them, only the black metal from Hela. Beneath them, fields had changed to city at some point and now he could see her, riding a skiff, darting across the rooftops and through tight streets. They were close enough that dodging was a difficult task and Thor, perched atop the ship, couldn’t deflect every weapon as it soared up to skewer them.
But Loki could see the wall of the palace ahead and his breath caught in his throat.
No time for it. He pointed, fierce grin twisting his lips and glanced at Banner, “There!”
The mortal nodded, features scrunching with concentration, the ship twisting unsteadily through the air as they swooped lower and lower, pummeled, violently rocking from Hela’s uncompromising blows.
And they were over.
Banner’s hands came off the controls, into a victory fist-pump and Loki laughed, relieved, grabbed the stick and slowed the ship so it wouldn’t smash into the palace.
Behind him and above, he could hear whooping from Valkyrie and Thor, which the mortal promptly joined in, a grin splitting his face.
In moments, he had set them down, gently, in a clearing of one of the public gardens. Nestled against a row of oak trees and careful not to crush the flower beds, filled with tulips, lilies and asters.
He let out a sigh, ran a hand over his face, only to feel the ridge running across his cheek. Damn, he’d forgotten to cover it. Loki quickly ran into the main body of the ship, sifted through the boxes of clothing which the Grandmaster had left on board. There were concerning amounts of nurse outfits, but the material was thick enough and opaque in places, so he ripped a strip off and wrapped the left side of his face with practiced movements.
Banner padded from the cockpit and stared at him, “You’re hurt?”
“No,” Loki glanced at the mortal as he was tucking in the end. He didn’t continue at first, but perhaps Banner knowing could be useful in future. And if he expected co-operation, he needed to be more open. “Asgard isn’t fond of me. And this,” Gestured at the partially-bandaged gash of blue, “Won’t make me any more popular,” Only a sliver was visible, but quickly disappeared once Loki worked in the frayed end.
A confused look, then Banner’s eyes widened slightly, “Oh.”
“Yeah,” He said absent-mindedly, tugging at the fabric to make sure it was secure.
“That’s pretty crap...”
Loki stared at him. That was enough trust for one day. “None of your business, Beast. Just because I’ve not killed you yet doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”
Banner snorted, “I was wondering where the megalomaniac had gone. Good to see you back.”
“Shut up, Midgardian.”
“Did you just call me the alien version of ‘Earthling’?”
Before the inane conversation could continue, Valkyrie was shushing them. Gestured to the outside, through the open walls.
Loki looked, and his mouth promptly clamped itself shut.
Because there was a wall of unfriendly Einherjar, swords drawn and shields up, lined in ranks, with spears poking out over shoulders. There was the general impression of a giant, angry beast squatting there, beneath the boughs of ancient trees.
“Ah,” He said absently and offered an innocent smile. As if they hadn’t just almost crashed into the palace during a siege. As if he wasn’t a war criminal of some kind and liable for execution and/or imprisonment.
“Hello.”
Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ