Sanctuary II
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When he woke, it was from a dreamless slumber, face buried in the crook of where the armrest met the back of the chair. Slowly, peering out into the blinding light, he blinked at Thor, pouring over a display. Illusions suspended above a small disk, held easily in the palm of his hand. Projected above it hung faces, all of which were similar. Strong noses, brown eyes and bushy brows stared back at Loki as the heads rotated, Thor studying each before flicking onward.
"Any of them strike your fancy?" Loki said, attempting to tease but the effect was ruined as a huge yawn garbled half his sentence.
Thor caught the gist, however and snorted.
Loki rolled his eyes, stretched, shoulders popping and his joints protested after being stuck in one position for... He didn’t know how long. He must have been out for a while. A quick glance confirmed that Odin was still in his bed, not even twitching, looking drained and sallow. It was odd, seeing him look so ancient. Whilst Loki knew Odin was far older than he, well over the usual five thousand year life span of Æsir, actually seeing it…
"I hope he wakes soon," Thor whispered, his gaze also examining the King, "I don't think we'll make it without him…"
Loki dipped his head. No matter how little he liked it; Odin was powerful. Insanely so.
Then, with a small noise which Loki associated with a lightbulb blinking over his head, Thor began to rummage around in one of his pockets, which were ridiculously well hidden beneath his armour. At least one of them was wearing something familiar. He soon held up an apple - green, like the one they had taken from Frigga's garden before.
"Here," He said, holding it out, "You haven't eaten."
"And you have?"
"Yes!"
"Some leftover sweetroll you came across doesn't count, Thor."
"Still better than nothing."
Loki sighed, reached out and took the apple. Chomped on it and offered a too-happy smile. If an expression could be sarcastic, this was, "Happy?"
"Ecstatic."
They lapsed back into silence, except for the occasional crunch as Loki devoured his apple. He really hadn't eaten anything in a while. Before the second fight with Hela, the last he had eaten was the escape on Sakaar, days ago. Most of the food had been put aside for Banner, as he wouldn't last long without it. Brunnhilde had insisted.
"Why are you scrolling through faces?" Loki said, gesturing with an applecore, drops of juice splattering onto the expensive floor. If he had any lasting legacy, it was going to be immovable sticky spots on Odin’s panelled, handcrafted floorboards.
Thor looked up, then back down at his illusion, at which point he flipped past the most recent spinning head, "That Einherjar you talked about. I've got a list of all men matching your description in service who guarded the dungeons. I would have asked Týr, but…"
Loki simply stared at him. It wasn't often he felt lost for words, but whenever he did, it was usually Thor. And even then, it was mostly because of an act of immeasurable stupidity. Yet every so often, it wasn't. It was something like caring and wishing him to be safe.
… It was nice.
"Brother?"
"I-..." He stumbled on the words and Thor's brows shot up, "Thank you."
"... You're welcome."
Once again, their conversation had strayed into uncomfortable territory and Loki leant back, took one final bite of his apple, chewed purposefully through the seeds and dropped it to roll sadly on the floor. If he was sitting in Odin's chambers, he was most certainly going to disrespect them.
"Any more sightings of Hela or her army?" Loki asked, once again nonchalant, blatantly steering the conversation away from touchy topics.
Thor sighed, face becoming troubled with a deep frown, "Not anything solid and it’s dangerous to send down more men. Half of those we see off don't come back."
"So they're definitely still down there," Loki said, chewing on his knuckle automatically, "There's a huge army of the undead beneath Asgard, led by an ancient Æsir warrior-"
"Obviously."
"Yes, but she's been away for about five thousand years. Everything is different," His voice tilted up at the end, waiting for Thor to continue the thought.
"... Except for the tunnels, which aren't even in use."
"So that's why she's chosen to be down there. She knows it better than us," Loki cocked his head, "Probably knows things that aren't even on the maps anymore."
"But when does she plan to attack? How? Where?" Thor sighed, flicked off his little display and sunk into his chair, "We know the why, but nothing else!"
"We know she has a large army and is in the tunnels which extend beneath the entire city," Loki replied, "What would you do?"
"Spread out, wait till dusk, then-" He blinked.
"Attack?"
Thor didn't answer, staring blankly for a moment. Both him and Hela were warrior children of Odin; they were likely raised with the same teachings. What one would do strategically, Loki gambled that the other would also. Age and experience were factors, but the most fundamental of Odin's lessons had been to use your advantages. And if you don’t have one; make it. Take out the enemy's commanders, then strike the main body everywhere, with no warning. Mass panic counts as another advantage. And Hela would know well that dusk was when Asgard typically changed shifts.
Everywhere when the sun set, blacksmiths doused their fires, guards began to head home and farmers would stretch, ready for a night's rest. And whilst those who were working returned home, to bed and, hopefully, a hot meal, those who grafted the nights got up, got ready and headed out. Blacksmiths, guards, farmers and all others of Asgard on the move.
It left the Realm vulnerable and in a state of commute for half an hour, every day. Siege law prohibited leaving your post before a replacement guard arrived, but Loki knew that few kept to that rule as strictly as they were taught.
"Oh," Thor said. Then nodded, glanced out the window. Above them, not too high above the horizon, the sun was steadily dropping lower, "Two hours at most."
"It may not be today," Loki cautioned, "She might need more time to position."
"Do you really believe that?"
Loki sighed, "No."
Because she was an ancient warrior, who had fought more battles than he and Thor had likely even heard of. She held the title of Bane of the Nine Realms and, whilst she had so far failed to take Asgard, it was a close thing. No. There would be no waiting for tomorrow.
"I cannot think of a way to flush them from the tunnels," Thor said, rubbing a hand over his face, "They are so vast and we know so little…"
Loki nodded, "I'll see what I can find."
With that, he stood and walked to the door, pushed it open and began to stride through when Thor called him. Loki paused, glanced back.
"Thank you, brother."
Loki smiled, "You're welcome."
And then continued, walked back to the library for another delve into the books.
♛ ♕ ♚ ♔ ♜ ♖ ♝ ♗ ♞ ♘ ♟ ♙
Yet again, it was hopeless.
Even after recruiting (an unwilling) Brunnhilde and her seemingly constant mortal companion, there were no ancient maps or architectural designs or even margin doodling to be found! Nothing, absolutely nothing of the plans for the tunnels remained. And with those missing documents, any hope of launching a preemptive counterattack was lost. Just like the fucking maps.
Loki scowled down at yet another useless expanse of scratchy writing and amateurly drawn plans. There were little doodles all over it, mostly pornographic in nature and he had the distinct feeling this was some form of ancient homework. Very bad homework. They were looking at some child's homework from thousands of years ago to try and find this information! If that didn't illustrate how desperate they were, he didn't know what would.
And all of this bother could've been avoided if Hela hadn't blown up the fucking library like the annoying little shit she was. The maps section was on the outer wall of the palace and not a scrap of its contents remained. If it wasn't so annoying, he would've admired the elegance of her plan. Infiltrate Asgard, destroy the anti-air shield, destroy the library, raise an army of their best (and dead) warriors against them, then try and kill the two Princes, probably to lower morale as well as to remove the chain of command. And finally, hide/prepare in the ancient tunnels no one knows about and can't find out about because someone destroyed the library where all information is stored!!
Loki hated it. But if it was a plan he'd come up with, he would have preened for days. The only thing which prevented her from pulling everything off was Heimdall, who had saved him and Thor.
Heimdall…
Loki almost slapped himself. He was either getting slow or Hela had poisoned Asgard's apples.
Without explanation, he set off for Odin's chamber yet again, ignoring Brunnhilde's annoyed yelling behind him.
No luck to be had in the library; perhaps Asgard’s infamous Gatekeeper could help?
Loki barrelled past beggars, newly-homeless and guards alike, ignoring the looks of shock and weary expectation as he shoved any who got in his way aside. In a flat-out sprint, he made it to the chambers in under a minute, panting slightly as he arrived.
Doors closed and Loki slowly reached out to push them open, but paused when he heard a familiar voice. Exactly who he’d been looking for.
“-Yet to find her, my Prince.”
Heimdall. He’d recognise that tone anywhere. The one that sounded stoic, resolute and firm. Loki’s hand hovered over the door, but then slowly fell and he cocked his head, ears straining. Probably shouldn’t have been able to hear anything through the sound-proofed, nearly half-a-metre-thick doors… But he’d take what he was given. Especially if it meant listening in was easier.
“Why?” That was Thor, his voice a complete opposite, slightly high and cracking with worry, “There have been no reports from the tunnels other than dead men! Dusk isn’t far off, we must find her soon.”
“Her shielding from my sight is far superior to yours, Loki, now you do not have your magic.”
Loki blinked. He really should have expected that. With a sigh, he pushed open the heavy door and watched it swing effortlessly inwards, revealing the opulent chamber. Thor stared at him with a brow raised.
“How long were you there?” He asked, the soft disappointment in his tone rankled.
“Were you going to tell me you talked with Heimdall?” Loki snapped back and strode in.
The mentioned Asgardian raised a brow, “He only just arrived, my Prince.”
“Why? Is this something important? Shall I come back later?” Loki stretched a sarcastic smile across his face, “I thought we agreed to trust each other?”
Thor flinched a little at that, “We did. I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
Even with scrutiny, Loki couldn’t detect any deception on Thor’s face. Usually, he would have believed him purely on that as evidence, but his brother had gotten better at masking his thoughts. Not good enough to truly fool him, though enough to make him take time to be certain.
Wasn’t this a display of distrust, too? He didn’t think Thor was lying - he genuinely didn’t want to disturb him. And Loki remembered days when he would have thrown a tantrum if this blundering oaf dropped in on his research. And a tantrum usually meant stabbings.
Yes, Thor hadn’t meant anything by it. Loki refused to let himself deflate, though he did offer a small smile in apology, “There is nothing useful in the library. I came here to see if you knew where Heimdall was but-”
“I assume you wanted to ask him if he’d seen Hela?” Thor huffed but his lips were twitching upwards as he turned to the Gatekeeper, “Heimdall?”
For a moment, he looked hesitant, then obeyed, “As the Allfather has already told you, Hela is a great sorceress and battle mage,” Heimdall said, “I often did not approve of what she was sent to do, and so the King taught her to hide herself from me.”
Loki cocked his head, “I thought he said it was impossible.”
“He did. The books you learnt from were the ones he used to teach her.”
Another lie, what a surprise.
“But it is unimportant,” Heimdall continued, “We will not find her before the attack.”
Thor opened his mouth to protest, but he was cut off. Loki raised an eyebrow - he hadn’t pegged the Gatekeeper as one to show even slight insubordination to someone he respected. Especially not Thor. The man had committed multiple acts of treason for him on numerous occasions.
“There is no time, my Prince. Even if I could locate her in the half hour remaining, there is little we can do. Even evacuating the closest areas would do nothing. All we can do now is prepare,” Heimdall lifted his head and stared into Thor’s face with his burning golden eyes, “If we prepare, we may survive.”
Loki turned away, his knuckle had gotten in his mouth at some point and he didn’t bother to stop gnawing on it. There wasn’t much more preparation they could do. Those who were able-bodied patrolled. Those who weren’t but could still walk defended those who couldn’t. And amongst them, the healers bustled, healing stones long gone, bandages and lengths of thread attached to bone needles their weapons against innumerable wounds. It had been barely a day since the start of this siege, and only now that the explosions had stopped were they seeing that Hela had single handedly done what entire Realms couldn’t even dream of - bring Asgard to its knees.
As she had tackled the palace and guards, her seiðr had set to work on the rest of the city. It was a masterful display of what an experienced battle mage could do and Loki bit harder on his knuckle. If only his own magic wasn’t locked away… By the bastard lying still in this room, his singular eye firmly closed.
And it wasn’t just Hela that was worrying. Or threatening them time-wise.
The Gauntlet.
Loki was turned away from them all and let the almost-smile blank mask fall away. His face scrunched up and reflexively bit down harder on his knuckle, drawing blood. Yet another little blue mark to mar him.
The Mad Titan would be here. Soon. If he wasn’t already. Waiting somewhere above their heads. Loki took in a deep breath, purposefully steady, not shaky. They had to focus on Hela. Thor knew of his concerns and he’d act on them if there was reason. Loki really hoped he would. He really hoped that Heimdall would see the Sanctuary II before it swooped down to crush them. For, inevitably, that would be what happened. Eventually. 'When' was anyone’s guess.
But how long had the Gauntlet been on Asgard? Why had Odin All-Imbecile kept it?! How high on whatever the fuck had kept him alive so long was he to think that was a good idea?
Even if Thor had actually listened to what he said on the Gauntlet, Loki needed to know. He turned back to them and cut into the conversation, face once again smoothed back from the scrunched mess it had been, “Heimdall. Do you see anything in the space around Asgard?”
Abruptly interrupted, he gazed at Loki warily, until Thor dipped his head and the Gatekeeper’s eyes turned skywards.
They stood, the three of them, for what was only a minute but felt far longer. Heimdall’s face was tipped up and he stood stock still, looking to be a pillar of leather and gold. The brothers stood on opposite sides of him, one cloaked in red and the other wearing a long, draping coat of green. And Odin simply lay on his bed, chest barely rising, barely falling. Looking frail and worn.
Eventually, Heimdall moved, looked down, expression as inscrutable as ever, “It is blank. I can see, yet I cannot.”
Thor blinked, confusion evident. Loki probably looked equally stumped and the Gatekeeper explained, “It is empty space, but not. I cannot see what it is, but there is something.”
So the Titan was already here.
“It’s probably nothing?” Thor sounded hopeful. Evidently, he had not completely forgotten his warnings in the vault. It was surprising, this attempted avoidance, though Loki understood. If he didn’t have extensive knowledge (and dread) of the Titan, he would also be finding reasons it couldn’t be him.
Heimdall looked down at Thor, a soft expression on his face. Not pitying, but friendly, “It could be.”
“Great, we’ll just prepare for Hela-”
“However, I do not think that is the case,” Heimdall said, reached out and clasped a hand on Thor’s neck, “Asgard shall face two enemies before all is done,” And at this he hesitated for a moment, then another hand reached out, clasped Loki’s shoulder, “At least this time, one isn’t your brother.”
Shocked into speechlessness, said brother just blinked. Thor nodded, the previous worry morphed into a smile, which became a solid grin when he saw what had to be wide eyes and a slightly agape mouth on Loki’s face. At which point Heimdall also grew his own, condescending, very punchable and (knowing his track record) traitorous smirk.
Loki tried not to blush, but felt his ears grow hot all the same and he scowled, “If you keep this up, I’ll join Hela,” He grumbled, shrugging off Heimdall’s hand.
Thor snorted. Apparently, his previous worry was completely extinguished, which was enviable, “And do what? Feed the dog?”
“I would make an excellent dog feeder,” Loki rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, hiding the tiny wound on his knuckle. It would probably stain the leather coat purple, but whatever. It left a salty aftertaste in his mouth.
Heimdall smiled again, and this time it wasn’t just for Thor, “I am sure of it.”
What was that supposed to mean?
Thor snorted, “No, you’re too skinny. The poor mutt would be getting mostly bones!”
Loki knew where this was going, “No, I’m not eating another apple, Thor.”
His brother stared back for a moment, then sighed, fished out the apple he had undoubtedly been about to foist upon his unsuspecting brother and held it out, “You need to keep your strength up.”
“And you do too,” Loki protested, “Of us, which just lost an eye?”
Before Thor could even open his mouth, Heimdall was nodding sagely, “He argues a solid point, my Prince.”
Resigned, Thor bit into the fruit and his previously slightly-menacing expression looked far less so when apple juice was trickling down his beard like a manchild.
“Do you want a napkin?” Loki smirked, snickering a little. It just bubbled up - Thor had always been a messy eater, no matter how mother tried to train him, “Perhaps a dishcloth?”
“Shut it, Loki,” He grumbled, but the words came out smushed together around the apple, “Go steal the Tesseract or something.”
“Your wish is my command,” Loki smirked and made for the door, “Who shall I command to aid me in my devious quest? Chitauri or Frost Giants?”
Heimdall blinked and Thor let out a hacking cough as apple juice flew out his nose. How lovely.
When he recovered, eyes watering and red in the face, Thor said, “I thought, of us two, I was the warmonger.”
“Apparently not,” Loki pulled the door open, revealing an empty hallway, “I’ll have to get a bigger knife, then,” And he stepped out, began to walk down the corridor. When the door closed with a puff of air, he slowed momentarily.
Enough to hear, at the very edge of what he could perceive, a barely perceptible murmur, “I hope he doesn’t actually steal the Tesseract.”
“Should I keep an eye on him, my Prince?”
Thor snorted, “No. I trust him.”
Loki cocked his head, stock still other than the rise and fall of his chest. He should go. But… He couldn’t, even though it certainly breached trust. Leaving when there was eavesdropping to do just wasn’t something he found easy.
“Then I trust your judgement, my Prince.”
Slowly, haltingly, Loki began to creep closer to the door. He really shouldn’t. But what were they going to say, now he was gone? And Thor had asked Heimdall to not spy on him. Not that that would stop the nosy prick.
“You can use my name, I practically abdicated when I went on that chase for the Stones.”
“You are still my Prince,” Heimdall said softly, “But, Thor, I shall if it pleases you.”
A mumble, which Loki guessed was something along the lines of ‘I miss Midgard’. Heimdall laughed at it, whatever it was. A deep, bassy sound. Loki hadn’t heard it before.
“My brother-… I must ask you to do something for me.”
Pause. Even through the door, the mood seemed to darken.
“What is it that you could not ask in front of Loki?”
A shuffle, then; “It’s… Personal? I don’t think he’d like me telling you, but…”
Another silence. It stretched and Loki felt himself leaning in towards the door, his head tilted such that the cool metal was only an inch from his ear. What was it? He had a feeling and clamped his mouth shut, preparing for his brother’s words.
Thor finally continued, “He told me that a guard was… Didn’t treat him well when he was in the dungeons. For three years!”
If Loki hadn’t made a point to lock his lips together, a strangled gasp would have escaped his mouth.
“Do you wish for me to find him?”
“I-...” Loki could practically see the furious expression and clenched jaw as Thor struggled to answer, “Yes. I want you to find him,” Again, he grew silent, but for the padding of feet and heavy breathing, “Then I want you to deliver that fucking cur to me.”
Slowly, as if waiting for Thor to calm, Heimdall answered, “I was not permitted to look upon your brother’s cell.”
Without a word being spoken, Loki could sense how the tension rose at that.
“However, I know which Einherjar you speak of.”
He froze.
Heimdall had known.
Heimdall had seen-. Seen what happened. Seen his fucking humiliation and done nothing. Of course. Of course-
“I tried to inform the King, but he did not believe me. And when I pushed, he would become frail. With such turmoil in the Nine, I did not think it wise to send the King into the Odinsleep. Especially as I only suspected vague things. Nothing physical.”
Excuses. Always excuses!
“And you thought that was enough reason to leave my brother down there?” Thor didn’t yell. His voice wasn’t cold; it was brimming with rage. Not quiet rage but snapping, crackling, rumbling fury, despite the quietness of his words.
“My brother. He didn’t tell me everything, but it wasn’t just beatings, Heimdall,” No pacing this time, “It wasn’t just beatings, do you know what that means?”
“I can guess, Thor,” Solemn.
“No,” It was barely a word. More of a snarl, “You don’t use my name when you’ve left my little brother to that!!” And there was the shout. More of a scream, “My little brother!!”
“I-”
“You could have at least told me to come back!” Now he sounded choked, “That he was even alive. No matter what he’s done, he’s my little brother and I forgot that. I can’t believe I forgot…”
“I didn’t know, my Prince,” Heimdall said softly, almost a whisper and barely perceptible through the door, “I knew there were harsh words, but I didn’t know it went… Further.”
“Tell me who it was. Tell me his name,” The anger was back in full force, crackling a hair’s breadth from exploding out again.
“Argr,” Heimdall said, and what little else they spoke of was lost to Loki.
He blinked blindly at nothing.
A name.
Finally, he had a name for the anonymous bastard.
Loki could find him, if he wanted.
Find the man whose face had quite literally followed him since escaping the dungeons.
When Hiroim had grabbed him, pulled him close and stuck his disgusting tongue down his throat on Sakaar. How even the room had become his cell beneath Asgard. How it hadn’t been Hiroim’s face, but one with bushy brows, brown eyes and a strong nose. How, when he first saw the Einherjar upon arriving back on Asgard, they all had the same face. That same face.
Argr’s face.
Suddenly his lungs were tight, a vacuum in the centre of his torso and Loki backed away from the door, trying to suck in a breath but he couldn’t. There was air going in, but not enough. Not enough . He had to keep quiet, or Thor would come out and see him being a useless fucking idiot who couldn’t even breathe.
Where to?
What a stupid question.
He couldn’t go to his room, it was too far. And anyway, the clothes and smell and duvet would just make this worse, reminding him of when he hadn’t been marred by the dungeons. No, the library was better. Less distance, hopefully less people. They had half an hour - less now, before Hela struck. He had to calm down.
Loki closed his eyes, leant against the wall beside the door and held his breath, feeling his already oxygen-deprived lungs scream. Then gasped in, held again. Repeat. A few cycles and the pounding headache that had built deep in his skull lessened and his eyes opened.
After a moment more leaning, Loki shoved himself upright and turned on his heel, marching through the halls. No one had witnessed that little episode, though he knew it wasn’t over. Not completely. His torso felt too tight, his heart raced and his face wanted to crumple. It was all he could do to keep it a flat mask. Probably a slightly frosty mask, since his eyes stung, but if he was quick enough, the aimlessly wandering people wouldn’t notice.
In a blur, he made it.
Pushed open the doors, far too quickly and stumbled inside, shoved them back into place and all but collapsed against them. Anyone who saw that would know something was up. Loki banged his head back against the metal with a reverberating thunk.
“Loki?” Banner sounded incredulous.
Oh. They were still here? He’d forgotten about them. Not just that they were here, but that they existed. Loki blinked.
Could he really put his mask up again? It seemed so difficult… He was exhausted.
“Holy shit,” Banner whispered. From his footsteps, he was coming closer, “Val, Loki’s come in and he doesn’t look too good-...”
“I have eyes,” She said and the steps came closer.
Loki felt empty. Like he didn’t care that he was all hollow and Argr had happened and he now had a name and-
The apathy slipped away. He slammed back into his own body, though he didn't feel as if he left it.
Faces were right there and he must have seen them approach, but they were suddenly there. Loki flinched back. Not hidden, not a slight twitch, but his whole body jerked backwards and he slammed into the door.
Banner jumped, stepped back and pulled Brunnhilde with him, “Okay,” He dragged the word out, a little high pitched and worried.
“What happened?” Brunnhilde demanded. Brusque. Like she knew exactly what this was. Loki cocked his head. She probably did, with all the battlefields she had been on.
Banner batted her on the shoulder, shot her a look.
Loki blinked again. Deep breaths. He wasn’t going to cry. Or break down. Not like he had in the hallway outside Odin’s room.
Nevertheless, he could feel the cool frost spreading over his cheeks and he ducked his head. Probably looking like some pathetic child.
“Alright,” Brunnhilde said. Still brusque and as if stating she couldn’t give less of a crap, but softer, somehow, “You’re good. Whatever it was, it’s gone right now, okay?” She didn’t reach out to touch him, though Banner looked like he wanted to from how he was leaning forwards, with Brunnhilde’s arm across his chest, keeping him back.
Loki nodded, slowly. Haltingly. He hated it. They had to get away. Opened his mouth to talk and it just flopped. Useless. Like the rest of him.
Without thinking, he lifted his arms to ward them off, feeling for his seiðr simultaneously, thoughtlessly. It wasn’t there, but something deeper was and it yielded to the same call and he pushed them away. Gentle; it wasn’t to hurt.
“Oh,” He heard a whisper, but it was unimportant because the faces were gone. Further away, at least and he relaxed back, eyes closed and he just breathed. Let the name - Argr - wash over him. Let it sink in. Let it sink down, down, so far that he could lock it there and forget about it.
“Did he just summon ice?” A man’s voice whispered, seeming to float to him from a distance. It didn’t matter.
“You’re missing out the complete change in race, but yeah. We should probably go.”
“What...?”
“He wouldn’t do that in his right mind, Bruce.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Let’s just leave him. If he comes to and we’re here, he’ll flip.”
“But… He’s awake?”
“Technically,” A pair of footsteps, “He’s processing. Not all there.”
Distant, now, “Like… PTSD?”
“What?”
“When something really bad and traumatic happens and the survivor has… Flashbacks.”
“Not exactly,” He could barely hear them, “But similar.”
"That… Explains a lot, actually."
"Why?"
"Last time I saw Loki, he was trying to kill Thor."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah… If Thor saved him from whatever happened, that'd explain this new lack of fratricide."
And Loki was alone again.
He didn’t move.
That blankness from before was back in force and he let it wash over him. Let that name float away, as if it never happened. As if he hadn’t just acted like a five year old over nothing in front of people. People, being Brunnhilde and Banner. People who mattered, who weren’t so far down in the order of things that this was acceptable. And yet not close enough to him for this to be anything other than mortifying. He didn’t know if it’d be anything other than mortifying in front of anyone.
Maybe Frigga, but she was very, very dead.
And even if it would suck what little energy he had left, Loki wanted her to appear. He practically begged, wordlessly, hands clasped into each other. But she didn’t, and the tears and Argr and everything had drained him. Damn her, thinking that preserving his energy was anything but a lost cause at this point.
Loki let out a long sigh.
Whatever.
They saw. Banner and Brunnhilde.
Hela would be rising up from the depths of Asgard in not too long; his pathetic display was unimportant. If they wanted to judge him, they could. And he could be mortified later.
Loki rubbed his palms against his face and they came away with crystals of ice crushed against them, which began to melt when they hit the floor. Apparently, cold flagstones were warmer than him.
Slowly, he stood, joints aching for no apparent reason, and moved towards the centre of the library, away from where Brunnhilde and Banner had headed, back to the seat and table. If he saw them… She’d been right, he’d probably 'flip', as she so eloquently put it.
Padding softly, he made his way through the maze of burnt bookshelves and to the gaping hole in the side of Asgard’s palace. Looked out, letting the view and breeze calm him.
Even with the smoke and crumbling buildings, it was beautiful. Cradling him, the cool wind whipped around, twisting the remaining paper into swirls and flipping exposed pages. It seemed to call him and Loki looked down.
The toes of his boots rested just on the edge of solid floor, which dropped away into smoke and floating embers, blurring the distant floor. When had he gotten so close?
Perhaps he could just step off.
The thought seemed to float to him on the wind.
Just… Step off.
Fall for a bit. Then squish.
Without his seiðr, it’d be quite fatal. Especially if he fell head first.
He wouldn’t have to face Brunnhilde and Banner again, with their judgement that would undoubtedly come. For him being so pathetic. He wouldn’t have to face Thor, disappointed that his brother had let something so shameful happen to him.
But before he could really consider it. Really think about taking that little step, something materialised in the space above Asgard.
It was massive, blocking out the sun and creating an immediate twilight, with the smouldering fires casting a slight glow along its underside. From beneath it, the usual distinguishing features were invisible, simply a block of black metal, jagged in places, with turrets poking down and out. The Sanctuary II.
Loki stared up at it, on the edge of the crumbling palace, standing above the burning embers of Asgard.
This could only mean that Thanos had arrived.
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