Chapter 31
“Look, kid, this isn’t working,” Tony says.
(He really needs to work on not saying ominously vague things around Loki. Immediately, her spine straightens and her jaw sets.)
“What’s not working?” she asks.
“Being in the tower, especially with Thor, is stressing you out. I’ve talked to May, and she said she’d be willing to take you in until summer vacation.”
“You’re… getting rid of me?” Loki says slowly. She has an odd look on her face, part fear, part anger, and part defeat.
“No, of course not,” Tony says. God, he’s bad with kids. Why is he surrounded by so many kids?
Loki gives him a pitying smile. “It certainly seems like you’re getting rid of me.”
Tony sighs. “We’re not going to stop you from coming over. Peter practically lives here, anyway. But you need some space from here, somewhere where you can be a kid for a bit.”
“I’m not a kid,” Loki huffs, in a fight she will absolutely never win.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Tony smirks.
Loki has to admit that she’s not too upset to be going to Aunt May’s. Peter talks about his aunt like she’s made of sunshine. Also, the only adult woman that Loki has been around for a while is Natasha, and Loki is 95% sure Natasha wants to kill her at any given time.
She does, however, not particularly appreciate being shipped off when she became a nuisance. With some luggage packed and Peter at her side, it takes all her willpower to keep from running away. It would be so easy. A drip of sedir, a door through Yggdrasil to another place far away from here.
It would be so easy. Running away has always come naturally to Loki. (Or maybe, Loki kept being thrown into circumstances that required running from.)
Peter unlocks his front door and ushers her in, directing her to drop her suitcase next to the couch. Aunt May bursts through the door leading out of the kitchen and into the living room, flour dusting her face.
She smiles at Peter and Loki. “Sorry for the lousy welcoming committee. I tried baking you a cake.” She gestures down at her coating of flour. “It did not exactly work out.”
Loki smiles slightly. “Thank you for letting me stay with you. I don’t mean to be a burden.”
Before Peter can open his mouth to reassure her, May cuts in.
“You are not a burden.” May’s voice is strong and steady. “Peter’s friends are always welcome here. And children are not burdens. I’m sorry that anyone ever made you think that. But they were wrong.”
Aunt May holds Loki’s eyes until Loki forces herself to look away. Loki knows her mother loved her. It’s one of the few sureties she has. But her mother’s love was quiet, soft. It was daggers on her pillow after Thor made fun of her dislike of broadswords. It was soothing words and gentle magic, a stitch dropped in a tapestry.
She comes to learn that Aunt May and Peter love loudly. They love with inside jokes and horrible movies and bad cooking. Aunt May ruffles Peter’s hair and Peter ducks, even though he’s smiling.
Peter’s home is cozy in a way that Loki’s never was. Loki always surrounded herself with books and papers and anything she’d acquired that looked neat, of course, but the rest of the palace was always spotless. It was beautiful, yes, and luxurious. But it never felt lived in, more house than home.
Peter’s apartment feels lived in. There are half-full boxes of takeout in the fridge and an unfinished puzzle on the coffee table. Peter’s gadgets litter every spare surface next to well-loved books with cracked spines. Loki and Peter sleep in the same room, which Loki has never had to do before, but she finds she rather likes it. It reminds her of the good times on quests — not the hunting or the killing or the chasing — but the sleep-soft breathing that means everyone made it through the day.
Sometimes, when they eat dinner together, Loki closes her eyes and can almost pretend that this is her family.
She misses having a family.