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English
Series:
Part 1 of Worthy
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Published:
2019-04-11
Updated:
2022-03-20
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3,771
Chapters:
2/?
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Not a Glass of Water

Summary:

Loki has been on probation for a year. Rather than imprisonment, Odin decided to force Loki to pay for his crimes by working with the Avengers to protect Earth for as long as Odin deems fit. Neither the Avengers or SHIELD are particularly happy with the arrangement but Loki behaves and ends up being rather useful.
Here, the Avengers are at the Age Of Ultron party and Thor is offering the Avengers a turn at picking up Mjolnir.

Loki turns the offer down and returns to his book. After a while, he asks Thor to pass him his glass of water.
What Thor passes him-
Well, it isn’t water.

Chapter 1

Notes:

This idea came to me when I watched Age of Ultron yesterday. I hope you enjoy it!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The cream pages curl elegantly beneath his fingers as he turns them, engrossed in the tale.
Around him the mortals mingle and he pays them little attention. Behind him, Banner and Romanoff flirt until the spy slinks away and the Captain takes her place chatting to Banner. The latter is clearly vexed. Loki smirks as the humans toy with each other.
Alright, maybe he is paying them a bit of attention. But old habits die hard and Loki will most likely never allow himself to fully relax in their presence.

Eventually, Thor wanders over and Loki wards off his attempts at smalltalk with varying levels of amusement and slowly the rest of the Avengers move to join them too. The mage observes them over the top of his book and grins as the topic shifts to Thor’s hammer. He knows what’s coming.
This should be amusing.

Thor places his hammer down on the table and invites them all to try to pick it up as many times as they care to.
Barton scoffs and twirls a drumstick in one hand- “But it’s a trick.”- and Thor merely laughs and passes whatever Aesir liquor he’s procured this time to the Captain.

“No, no, it’s much more than that.”
His eyes twinkle.

Loki wonders if Thor even realises just how much ‘more’ there is to the hammer he’s wielded for so long. He doubts it.

The Hawk gestures at mjolnir with the drumstick and, putting on his best ‘Thor Voice’, speaks- “Ah, whosoever be he worthy shall haveth the power.”

Loki nearly laughs at that one and the man’s smile quickly falls. Barton glares at him and Loki raises his hands, returning to his book.
Still touchy, it seems.

Clint sighs and returns to his point.
“Whatever, man! It’s a trick!”

Loki studies him over the top of his book again. He wonders what kind of background Clint has that- despite having seen Thor fly and conjure lightning (oh and being controlled by Loki himself)- would cause him to believe the magic of mjolnir was merely a ‘trick’.
Loki’s own magic had been referred to frequently as ‘just tricks’ (despite his clear proficiency and the fact that it was much more useful on a battlefield than the much-praised brute strength and idiocy of the other Asgardian warriors) but Mjolnir’s magic? As a weapon that had served Thor on the battlefield for many years, Loki had assumed that the other Avengers would have more respect for it.
Clearly not. 

Thor is merely amused at the man’s statement and gestures to the hammer, inviting Clint to have a try.
“Please, be my guest.”

Clint watches him for a moment, trying to gauge whether or not he’s serious.
‘Come on. Really?”

“Yeah.”

Loki lowers his book ever so slightly. In his peripheral vision, the other Midgardians turn too, their conversations faltering now a more interesting form of entertainment is available.
The Hawk hauls himself to his feet and sets the drumsticks down on the table.
‘Rhodey’ as Stark calls him, makes a smart comment with a smile and Stark follows that up with an innuendo and a grin. Loki rolls his eyes but allows a smile to curve his lips and listens to the midgardians laugh.
Clint comments again about how he’s ‘seen this done before’ and Loki just watches.
Foolish mortal.

The mortal in question tries to lift the hammer with a grunt but quickly gives up with a laugh like so many others. Stark nips back in with another quick quip and then he’s up too, proclaiming ‘It’s just physics.”
Loki’s smile grows further and his eyes flick back down to his book.
The Man of Iron asks if he rules Asgard if he lifts the hammer and Thor, doing his best not to laugh, agrees. Stark makes another vulgar comment and finally attempts to lift the hammer. As expected, it doesn’t so much as scrape on the glass.
He tries again with his metal arm, then a shifted grip, then finally with ‘Rhodey’ who also apparently has a metal arm too.
Stark pulls until he goes red in the face and Clint makes a clapback of his own which Tony amusedly agrees that he deserves.
Banner goes up next, going so far as to climb on the table and push against it with his heels. Loki fears for the glass and moves his drink to the floor.
The mortal grunts and groans and even attempts a battlecry which would be amusing if Loki wasn’t so worried he might turn into the Hulk and go for round two of ‘Punch the Frost Giant into Yesterday’. 

Finally, Banner sits (much to Loki’s relief) and the Captain stands, and Loki watches with a tad more caution than the others. He’s heard of the man’s ‘saintliness’ and while he knows that the mortal would be incredibly unlikely to take Thor up on his offer of ruling Asgard (and therefore the nine realms too), he doesn’t particularly wish to test his hypothesis.

“Go ahead, Steve. No pressure.” Someone says.
The Captain rolls up his sleeves and Tony says a quick word of encouragement before Steve sets his hands on Mjolnir’s handle.
He pulls. The table squeaks.

Loki’s eyes widen in horror and in the corner of his eye, Thor’s amused smile falls, a slight look of panic setting in.
Loki watches Steve very carefully after that and is interested to note that the second the man realises he can lift the hammer he shifts his grip and pretends to pull again before ‘giving up’.

Thor’s easy smile returns and Steve shrugs before throwing up his hands. “Nothing.” He says, like he didn’t just have the power of the gods and the stars in his mortal hands and turn it down.

Loki eyes the bottle Thor has been passing between just Steve and he- if he doesn’t count the passed-out Midgardians Thor had so foolishly agreed to give some to earlier- for most of the night. 
Perhaps not so mortal after all.
Either way, he will watch the captain with a more cautious (and perhaps more respectful) eye after this.

The Widow is offered a round but she gracefully turns that down. She swigs from a bottle and grins at them all.
Loki wonders if she already has her answer.

The others now all laugh and make jokes, one going so far as to suggest the hammer is coded to Thor’s fingerprints- Loki snorts at that one- and Thor shuts them up by simply picking it up as if it weighs nothing, tossing it in one hand, a beer still clutched in the other.
“You’re all not worthy.“
He smiles. 

Loki just chuckles.
‘What’s so funny, Rock of Ages? Do you want a turn?” Stark asks, only half joking.

The mage grins.
‘As much as I’d love to humiliate myself in the same fashion you all just did, Stark, I think I’ll stick to my book, thank you very much.”

The Midgardians rolled their eyes and sat back, returning to whatever dull conversation they’d been going through before. Loki turned another page. The book was really quite something. He didn’t have time to read any of Earth’s literature the last time he was here but he’d been pleased to find that it was actually rather good. Excellent, in fact. Few people chose to pursue careers other than fighting on Asgard so the fiction there was rather... Well. There wasn’t much at all.
But this truly was entertaining, even if it was targeted at those younger than himself.
Stark had introduced him to the series as a joke initially- a young boy with green eyes and dark hair goes to ‘wizard school’- but Loki had quickly found himself enjoying the series and was now on the fifth book. He could’ve easily finished them already but he had decided to postpone the end a little longer by reading other books in between. He finished the Percy Jackson series (he’d found the stories of other gods amusing and the Midgardians’ odd wording even more so), then ‘The Hunger Games’, then the Divergent trilogy. He had suffered through (and later burned) Twilight but then greatly enjoyed ‘The Host’ by the same author. He had even made his way through the Artemis Fowl series (which he loved) where he discovered that (apparently) Midgardians sometimes loved a complex villain just as much as they admired a good hero.
While he knew the works were just fiction and not fact (he’d had a humiliating conversation with Stark about when the tributes were being selected for the next ‘Hunger Games’) he still found them fascinating.

So fascinating, that he didn’t tear his eyes away from the page when he asked Thor to pass him his drink.
There was a quiet scrape on the table.

So fascinating, that he didn’t look up even as he absent-mindedly listened to the titters of the mortals.
“Here you are, brother.”

So fascinating, that he didn’t turn to see what was being passed to him until it was in his hand.
“Thank you.”

He closed his fingers around the cylinder, expecting the smooth sensation of glass. He frowned as it settled in his grip and the room went silent. It was smooth but too thin and had odd ridges-
Loki froze.

 

Slowly, he turned his head to see what exactly Thor had passed to him.
Sitting in his grip as if it were made of mere plastic or steel, he saw Mjolnir.
It had to be a trick.
He sat up, swivelling his legs around from his lounging position.
“Ha-ha, very funny, Thor. Where’s the real one?”
He held the hammer out to Thor, an eyebrow raised,
The room was dead silent.

Stark, unsurprisingly, was the first to open his mouth.
“Are you serious? Reindeer Games is worthy but not us?”

Loki’s mouth went dry.
“The game is up, Stark, this is clearly not the real Mjolnir.”
He looked to Thor who was staring at Loki with wide eyes.

“So either he’s been volunteering at a kitten rescue centre or that hammer is broken because there’s no way that he should be able to lift that.”

Loki dropped the hammer and the table smashed beneath it.
He swallowed.
There’s no way.
“I need to go.”

“Brother-“ Thor seemed lost for words.

Loki made for the exit. He might’ve gotten there if it wasn’t for the sudden screech of static and metal on metal. The lights flickered and died, plunging them into half-darkness. He slowly backed away from the stairs as one of Stark’s bots staggered towards him, sparks flying from open wires and grinding gears.
It was misshapen, hastily thrown together and barely clinging to life.
It was also really not what Loki needed right now.

“How could any of you be worthy? You’re all killers.” It grated out. 

“Yeah, that’s what we’d like to know.”
A pointed comment, directed at him.

It would never be addressed, Loki decided. He would take this particular secret to the grave.
He wasn’t entirely sure why.
He guessed it was just stubbornness at this point.
Stubbornness and a good deal of self-destruction. 

He lifted his hands, letting Seidr flow through his veins as the Avengers discussed the new development.
As soon as he dealt with whatever this thing was.

Notes:

Sorry, I do waffle on too long about Loki's first books. I really need a beta reader... Any volunteers? ^^
(Someone to listen to me waffle about plot ideas would be awesome too!)

Chapter 2: Fight

Summary:

Loki is reminded of the limitations of his powers.

Notes:

Okay so I said I was unlikely to continue this but I'm going to drop and write chapters here occasionally because I missed it.
I'm just trying to write for me now haha 'cause I get too caught up in people's expectations sometimes.

Chapter Text

“I will never say the things I want to say to you. I know the damage it would do. I love you more than I hate my loneliness and pain.”
 -Henry Rollins, Solipsist

 

 

The amalgamation of twisted, broken metal shrieked as it walked, metal grating against the floor.. It dripped oil in its wake and its mangled arms swung from sparking wires...
Loki faintly overheard the Avengers get on track, Stark questioning the disappearance of the ever-helpful Jarvis, as the robot continued dialoguing. 

“Loki-“

“Be quiet, Thor.”

“Loki…”

Loki halted, letting out a frustrated huff at his brother’s pleading tone. He could not focus on what the others had just learned- might now suspect- he had to focus on this creature of Stark’s that had so clearly gone wrong.
“Not now, Thor!”
Tentatively, he let his seidr snake out and probed the bot, searching for consciousness- Stark was clever, but the man didn’t know just how clever. Jarvis was so advanced that he was a mind of his own- he may have foundations in code and electricity but he had somehow grown beyond even programming- had learned.
Loki had a horrible feeling something similar had occurred here.

“Had to kill the other guy-”

Loki stiffened, seidr withdrawing instinctively, and he heard sharply drawn breaths from the other Avengers.
Oh shit.

“He was a good guy.”

“You killed someone?”

“Wasn’t my first call… But down in the real world we’re faced with ugly choices.”

The mage swallowed down the thoughts that threatened to bubble up and destroy his composure- don’t think about it, don’t think about Him, you have to keep it together - and tuned them out as best as he could, focusing on flinging his seidr out towards the bot.
His mind was on the fritz, darting back to Him, especially after his own little display from earlier and oh God he had to stop thinking- his magic was responding to his troubled mental state, growing more frantic and uncontrollable as his thoughts did. Normally he could use magic freely with a 4-string quartet, a metal band, and a documentary about sea lions playing in the background and somehow have something meaningful to say about each by the time he was done, but with the severe limitations placed on him by Odin he could barely focus on manipulating the flow of the seidr. It was infuriating, being limited to spells, incantations, the slightest bit of free magic and the commands of the Avengers. His true magical prowess could now only be used with their express and careful permission- he was bound up in an oath his father had fooled Thor into making and if Loki didn’t want his brother to suffer the consequences of being an Oathbreaker, he was stuck until Thor was released from the bond, either of them died, or the time limit ran out. He was angry with his brother, he was scared, but at least in being ‘trapped’ here he had an excuse to remain by Thor’s side and protect him.
It was awful, though like being a beginner all over again. He had to carefully ration his magic, take bigger risks, calculate further in advance every possible thing that could go wrong in order to use his magic to its full efficiency - there could be no mistakes, or people would get hurt, and he would be blamed yet again.

The magic twisted and turned but Loki forced his thoughts to calm, and the magic responded in kind. He took deep breaths, thinning it out and pushing it through the robot’s space, searching for a response in the seidr.
It felt rather like Jarvis but… Strange. Mutated. Jagged, broken. Angry.
His curiosity piqued, he pressed closer but a sudden resistance threw the seidr back.

Curse this stupid oath.

With his full magic at hand he would destroy such a simple shield with no resistance at all. He tried not to think about how it was the same the other way around too- with such limited ability to shield his own mind, others would have little trouble getting in.

Loki pursed his lips in frustration, and cast a subtle glance back at the others.
They had been interrogating the bot for a short while but he heard the not-so-subtle click of a gun, and saw Thor’s knuckles whiten as he gripped Mjolnir tighter.

“I’m on a mission.”

“What mission?”

“Peace in our time.”
‘Ultron’’s words grated out just as two more ‘peacemakers’ smashed through the walls.

Loki dropped to his knees, throwing his arms and a thin blanket of Seidr over himself and Thor instinctively- the others were far back enough that they would escape the worst of the debris, so they won’t gripe too much about him leaving them out, later…
Tables went flying, glass continued to shatter around him, books were thrown from their shelves as people crashed into them. Guns fired, sparks flew and Loki could barely concentrate over the clamour.

“Go, Loki!” Thor shouted, and Loki finally felt that rush as additional seidr flowed into his veins. Such simple words yet yelled with intent, finally gave him the briefest taste of the freedom he missed so badly… Thor was so damn lucky that Loki never took advantage of his foolish inability to choose his orders carefully in the heat of battle.


The prince instantly threw his seidr out across the room, creating second skins around the Avengers and Agent Hill, flickering green before fading from sight, absorbing the worst of the impact from the robots’ relentless attacks. He gasped for breath, before rallying again, sending a blast of energy at the nearest bot who had decided to take an interest after all.
“Thor!”

Thor turned as Loki sent the robot flying in his direction. The god grinned, then took a mighty swing at the thing with his hammer, sending the hunk of metal flying out of the window. His grin faded slightly as the stupid thing came flying right back, jet boosters powered to full, but Loki knew Thor could handle it and shifted his focus to the more- squishy- Avengers who seemed to be throwing themselves all over the room, desperately scrabbling for hidden weapons.
He threw his seidr out wide, scanning the room for pressing concerns- fatalities, injuries- but finds nothing but scrapes and bruises and-
He froze. The sceptre… The sceptre’s magic trace was not where it was meant to be. He pushes the seidr further, to the stupidly limited extent Thor’s words would allow and then he catches the briefest glimpse of it before it fades. Something has taken the sceptre- an infinity stone.
Loki’s eyes flick between Thor and the fight.

Shit.

He doesn’t have time to explain and he can’t try to run- one word from Thor or any Avenger who thinks he’s making a run for it and he’ll be practically comatose until they release him again… But he can’t let the sceptre go!
Fuck.
He really didn’t want to have to reveal the little loopholes Thor had been leaving him with just in case but this was a serious emergency.

“Stark!” He shouted.
The billionaire was clinging to one of the robots as it flew wildly about the room, jabbering some pre-recorded line in a horribly distorted voice.

“Little busy right now, Reindeer Games!”

The prince ground his teeth but he knew that Stark of all people was most likely to pay attention to him.
“They’re taking the sceptre!”

That got the attention of a few of the Avengers but Loki’s eyes were firmly on Stark.

“Shit-” The billionaire hesitated for the barest moment before giving the mage the next green light he needed. “Go!” Tony ordered, eyes flying wide. “And come back if you can’t catch it before the city borders!”

Loki nodded and ran out of the already-smashed window, ignoring the sounds of protest from the other Avengers.
He stepped on the sky, feeling the air briefly crystallise and then disappear beneath his feet as he searched for the bot above the always thumping heart of New York. The city’s lights glittered beneath him as he threw his net of magic wider yet again… There. The briefest trace.
Closing his eyes, he tried to hone in on the source of the magical signal. The infinity stone’s trace was muted by the casing it was trapped in but it still threw off insane energy levels. Even with his limited magic, he should be able to detect it as long as it hadn’t yet left the city.
The bot… The bot was… The bot had left the city borders.

For the briefest moment, he stood deathly still in the sky. Then the wave of crashing anger and grief hit him. He was useless like this. Reduced to a joke, to the ‘tricks’ his brother had always teased him for. His full magical abilities stunted, locked away from him by a mixture of his own pride and his family’s utter lack of faith in him.
For the hundredth time that day he found himself cursing Odin, cursing Thor and that stupid oath his brother had made in a desperate attempt to save him from Odin’s wrath. He could’ve been imprisoned, or executed maybe as Odin had originally wished, died with his head held high and his pride intact but this? This was cruel. He was chained like a dog, forced to heel, follow orders, and perform tricks at the Avengers’ command.

Sometimes he could forget, simply enjoy being around them, teasing them and taking the piss out of them to the furthest extent their very limited banter would allow but in moments like these when he felt so utterly useless-
What was the point of being assigned to ‘help’ them if he was never trusted to help? If he could never really use his abilities to their full potential, to show them all what he was really capable of? Was it just to destroy his spirit? Odin’s little game, his way of showing Loki that for as long as he cared for Thor he would always be under his thumb, because Thor was?
The mage could barely stand it. Why couldn’t they just have asked-

Why couldn’t he just have tried to tell them?

He shook his head.

No.

They would never believe him, and even if they did, he didn’t want their pity. He did not want to be forced to relive each gory detail in full, to recount everything to their satisfaction and yet still be doubted at the end of it.
Besides, his memories were fuzzy, clouded. They did not match with the scenarios Thor voiced in the very rare moments the two of them actually made an attempt to communicate… And he wasn’t sure if that was genuinely due to Thor being bull-headed and utterly incapable of reading a room or if the memories were genuinely false… Seeing the actions of the Warriors Three from a different perspective was one thing but their conflicting memories of the events on the bridge… He was beginning to doubt what was real and what was false and half-truths would be no use to any of them.

Loki did not want them- anyone- to see him in such a vulnerable state. And he could not bear to have Thor learn the truth.

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