Chapter 2
It didn't take long for Loki and Gamora to see that they had much more in common than they would have thought.
They had both been stolen from their home planets by their fathers, they had both tried, on many occasions, to kill their sibling; they both had colourful skin, covered in markings.
And that was to name a few.
They didn't have much more to speak of after that. Besides, neither one was truly a fan of idle conversation anyway.
But when Gamora would let out a sigh every few seconds, Loki almost growled.
"Will you keep quiet," he all but begged."
"I didn't say anything." she glared at him.
"You keep sighing like that," Loki clarified, and Gamora scoffed.
"My breathing? That's what's annoying you? My breathing?"
"Those are the same sounds Thor kept making when he was thinking about how much he misses his hair," said Loki, "So no, I know that it's not just breathing."
Gamora wanted to argue, but he was right. She glared at him, but then sighed again. When he looked ready to pounce, she rolled her eyes.
"Alright! It's my knife. I miss my knife."
Loki blinked, "You've been sighing for the past hour because of a knife."
"It wasn't just a knife," she said quietly, "It was... perfect. No matter where or how you would hold it, it would tip until it was perfectly straight. I never lost a fight with that knife."
Loki looked at the way her eyes had a faraway look as she spoke of it. Ordinarily, he wouldn't care about how much she missed a stupid knife. But then again, only hours ago, Loki had seen that look on Thor's face as he told stories about Mjolnir to an awestruck Korg.
Thor missed Mjolnir as if the blasted thing were a limb.
If this knife was anything to this woman like Mjolnir was to Thor, perhaps she had a right to keep sighing.
Loki himself sighed softly as he frowned. He shook his head, "What did this knife look like?" he asked her.
Gamora smiled, and she told him. She described the knife to the last detail, proving just how much time she had spent looking at this knife. She described it with her eyes closed, not noticing the look of concentration on Loki's face as he memorized her every word.
By the time she had finished talking; Loki's hand was held out.
"There you are."
Gamora looked at him, and her eyes widened when she saw what was in his hand. Almost to the last detail, it was her blade.
Slowly, her green hand reached out to pick it up. She held it with her finger under the centre, and it tipped back and forth and back and forth, to a stop.
Perfectly balanced.
Her eyes snapped up to Loki, whose face was a picture of indifference.
"Maybe now you'll stop with all the noise." he said simply.
Gamora blinked at him, and then the faintest shadow of a smile fell on her lips.
"I thought you were supposed to be the bad guy."
"Oh I am." said Loki, "I just appreciate a love for blades."
Gamora scoffed at him, shaking her head.
Again, they returned to the comfortable silence, until a thought came to Gamora.
"So you can just conjure objects out of thin air?"
"Well, I am the god of mischief," Loki said, "It's what I do.""
She turned to him slowly, "If you can just conjure random objects out of thin air, then why are we sitting on the floor?"
Loki opened his mouth, but no answer came out. He shut his mouth, still not talking. Send then he sighed at himself.
How in the Hell had it not occurred to him to conjure some chairs? He was the smartest person he knew, yet he didn't think to conjure up some chairs.
He blamed the slight lapse of judgement on his being dead, and seconds later the two were comfortable on plush sofas.
"A simple chair would have been fine," said Gamora as she made herself comfortable.
Loki scoffed at her, "I am a Prince, I don't do 'simple'."
She just shook her head at him and kept balancing the blade on her fingers. Gamora saw him watching her, and she sighed.
"Thanos gave it to me." she explained.
"Loki's eyebrows shot up, "I though you hated your father."
"I do." she said quickly, "I do hate him, but-" the following words caught in her throat, so she decided to just swallow them back.
She shook her head, "Since we were children, he turned my sister and me against each other. He would make us fight every day, to see who was better." She stared down at the knife sadly, "I was." she said softly, "I won every time. And every time Nebula lost... our father would remove pieces of her and replace them with machinery."
Loki's eyebrows shot up at that.
"She hated me for winning." Gamora shook her head, "I hate me for winning. But after a time, she forgave me. And for the first time, we could call each other sisters. Real sisters." she swallowed hard, "And then he captured her. And used her to get me to tell where the stone is. If she's alive, she is in pain. Because of Thanes. So yes, Loki. I hate him."
All the while, the knife dances across her fingers, and Loki pretended not to see that drops of tears where falling onto it.
"So tell me Loki," she said without looking up, "tell me about your father. The one who made you a relic."
Loki frowned a little, "Well after Thanos, Odin seemed quite fair." he had to admit.
"Oh come on, there's got to be something awful." she insisted, "He never hurt you so much you wanted to stab him in his eye?"
Loki scoffed at what almost sounded like hope in her voice. Of course there were times he hated Odin more than anything. But it was hard to bring them up now that he was dead. And after the fact that his last words were telling Loki that he loved him.
But the hope from Gamora's eyes was too much to ignore, so he sighed.
"When I found out that I was a Jotun," he said lowly, "I hated myself for it. All I wanted was to proof to Odin that I was worthy to be his son. That I was rightfully Asgardian. Worthy, like Thor was worthy." he swallowed as he remembered that day, "So I devised a plan to bring Laufey to Asgard, knowing that he would attempt to take Odin's life. I would then kill Laufey, saving Odin and gaining the throne. And finally gaining his approval."
"That's a complicated plan," she muttered.
"Well it worked," Loki told her. I killed Laufey before he could kill Odin. But then Thor arrived." Loki sighed, "He told mother, and she was very disappointed. And yes, granted I tried to kill Thor a few times during all that, which I probably shouldn't have done. But in the end I did it all for Odin's approval. I would have done it all again, and more if I knew I'd have Odin's approval." Loki gulped hard, "I was reduced to begging for it. Hanging off the end of Asgard, I all but begged him to love me as much as he loved Thor."
Gamora had finally stopped looking at her blade, and her eyes were fixed on Loki, "What did he say?" she asked quietly.
Loki looked up from his lap, "No."
Gamora blinked at him, "And?"
"That's all." Loki said, "Just... 'No."
Her eyebrows shot up, "Oh. Wow that's... wow."
Loki shrugged one shoulder, leaning back.
"So much for Fathers," she sighed as she leaned back.
They lay back on they sofas, ready to once again sit there in companionable silen-
"My father originally created me to be a new body for himself,"
The voice was new, and alarmingly close, causing both Loki and Gamora to leap up from the couches, an undignified sound escaping from one or both of them
"Although whether or not Ultron can be classified as my father is still quite debatable." The new addition carried on, ignoring the fact that it now had several knives pointed in its direction. "But it is my opinion that the fact that a part of Ultron is also a part of me immediately eliminates the possibly of him having any type of parentage over me. So I suppose if you want to be technical, the idea and original constructing of my mind and my being came from Tony Stark and Doctor Banner. So perhaps one or both of them would be considered my father."
The new addition continued, still unphased by the shock of his companions.
"Although it is also true that I was ultimately brought to life by the lightning of Thor. He too might stake claim to my parentage if he so pleased. And I supposed either way you were to look at it, no matter who my father, is, he is significantly better that either of yours."
The lengthy silence that followed was finally what suggested to the newcomer that he had perhaps startled the two.
"Oh dear," he said when he realized, "I do apologize. I had thought my skills in human interaction were improving, but I suppose this new state of death can make me forget my manners. It completely slipped my mind. Allow me to introduce myself."
He held out a red hand, ignoring the blades in the hands of the other two.
"My name is Vision. I don't believe we've met."