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Chapter Text

"He's WHAT?!"

This isn't how Tony wanted to start his day. Everything that's happened already, barely an hour before lunch, makes him mark this day as the worst of his life.

He wants to wake up when his body does, so probably around two pm. He wants to kiss his lovely wife good morning (afternoon), eat cheeseburgers, and tinker with his inventions until three am. Undisturbed, might he add.

Instead, today Tony was woken at the crack of dawn by FRIDAY rather loudly alerting him that Fury wanted to speak with him.

He couldn't kiss Pepper good morning because she was at some stupid meeting.

That conversation with Fury went very bad. Fury was yelling the entire time about Steve's stupid friend Bucky and the Council or some shit.

Tony then skipped breakfast because any reminder of the guy currently residing in Wakanda makes him feel sick.

Then, on the way to his lab, Clint just had to be an annoying brat and fall on him from the damn vents even though they're tiny as fuck. How the hell does he get in there?!

Tony took one step in his lab and was blasted with a fire extinguisher by DUM-E, who is going to be shipped off to a community college by the end of the day mark his words--

After cleaning that mess, Tony sat for a grand total of three second on his seat before FRIDAY alerted him that Thor was on the roof. Great.

Thor comes in, looking angry as hell. It's a miracle lightning hasn't struck the tower, but clouds as dark as night are overhead. Nice.

Thor calls a meeting because of something "in urgent need of attention" or something.

Everyone comes to the living room.

Clint fell from the vents on top of Tony again.

Wanda blew up the toaster because Pietro thought it best to scare her. Vision nearly attacked him.

Natasha was polishing her gun and nearly shot Clint when he fell.

Sam was using Steve's shield as an umbrella to protect himself from falling assassins. Bruce joined him.

And finally, finally, when everyone was calm and sitting down, Thor broke the news.

So, yeah, Tony kinda wants to cry now.

~~~

"My brother is currently king of Asgard."

Thor's words echo throughout the silence in the room, making it feel more empty than it is.

"He's WHAT?!"

Bruce flinches at Tony's shriek (because that's the only way to describe the noise he made) and covers his ears. The engineer had already looked exhausted and ready to collapse. Now he seems close to fainting.

He needs a better sleep schedule. He's going to die of caffeine overdose before he hits fifty.

Bruce covers his ears as the rest of the room erupts into chaos. Clint, Natasha, Tony, and Steve are all shouting with outrage while Sam, Wanda, and Pietro were all trying to ask what the hell was going on. The only one really quiet was Vision, who's databases knew of Thor's brother but had no reason to be mad at him being on Asgard's throne.

Bruce knows that his teammates had every right to be angry. The fact that the psychopath they'd stopped years ago from conquering Earth was now on another planet's throne makes him a little annoyed too.

How the hell did Loki ever become king?

"How did Loki become king?" Steve says, speaking over everyone else's shouting and asking the question everyone wants to know.

"Who is Loki?" Wanda asks, crossing her arms in annoyance.

Vision takes a moment to explain it in an unbiased way. Leader of the attack on New York. Thor's brother. A not-very-sane imperialist.

A very apt description, if Bruce had anything to say about it.

Steve repeats his question.

"My father fell into the Odinsleep not long after my departure from Asgard," Thor says, then growls, "My brother took this chance to usurp the throne. My mother is unable to do anything about it, since she is tending to my father."

"Well, why can't you just take your place as crown prince?" Pietro asks, knowing how royalty works because Wanda had a princess phase when they were younger and had roped him into it.

"I was unavailable at the time of the crowning," Thor says, "And apparently the regent doesn't have the authority to crown another person." He says the last part in a mocking tone, like he's quoting someone he didn't like very much.

Sam frowns, "Well, why didn't the throne go to your mom?"

Bruce holds back from rolling his eyes, predicting the answer already.

"The throne can only be passed to the next male heir."

Yep. Sexist little--

Natasha and Wanda seem to share Bruce's sentiments, since because they also make faces of disgust.

"But why would they give it to Loki?" Clint asks, speaking the villain's name like some sort of curse.

"I think the guard assigned to give Gungnir to a regent messed up their job. They will be punished, once I figure out who it was."

For some reason, Thor's tone makes Bruce's stomach churn. Why does he have to be so violent?

"Well, why do you need our help?"

Everyone looks at Bruce and Bruce himself feels a little embarrassed.

"I mean-- I know we're friends and we help each other, but what do you need us for?"

"I need your assistance in removing him from the throne," Thor says in a tone with duh energy, "and we shall return him to the cell in which he belongs."

Sorry, buddy, but I don't feel reassured by that statement.

"Let's do it," Clint snaps, looking a little too eager, "The sooner, the better."

Bruce uses all of his willpower not to glare at him. For some reason, he doesn't feel like he has all of the information he needs to make an opinion.

Everyone else doesn't seem to care.

This isn't going to end well, I just know it.

~~~

Bruce wants to laugh.

Laugh because it took three hours to pack.

Laugh because they're going to Asgard to overthrow its king.

Laugh because all he has in his bag is a toothbrush and some clothes.

Laugh because of Fury's reaction to their sudden vacation plans.

Laugh because the original six Avengers are going to Asgard while the newbies hold down the fort.

And laugh because, now that they're on the helipad, Thor is waving his arms around like a maniac and yelling at the sky.

So Bruce does. He laughs. So does Tony, so he doesn't feel out of place.

"Buddy, are you sure this is how it works?" Steve asks, looking a little concerned for his compatriot, "Because if you're gatekeeper can see everything..."

"He can't see you," Clint says, looking up at the sky.

"Heimdall!" Thor yells angrily, "This isn't a good jest! Bring us to Asgard or I'll--"

A sudden flash of light surrounds them, ripping them off their feet and swirling around in a rainbow tornado.

Then it stops.

Bruce stumbles, not falling on his face only because Natasha grabs him. He waits for the room-- the very gold room-- to stop spinning, then looks around.

The room is big and circular and, well, built entirely out of gold. A man stands on a (gold) pedestal at the center, holding onto a sword that is partially imbedding in the ground.

No. Wait.

There's a slit in the ground, like a keyhole. The tip of the sword fits in it perfectly. So the man turns it like a key? Is that what activates the bridge? And if that activates the bridge, then this man must be--

"My prince," says the man with dark skin and golden glowing eyes, clad in heavy-looking armor, "Has it ever occured to you that, if I do not immediately respond to you, I may be occupied with other matters of importance?"

"Absurd," Thor states, "What other matters do you ever attend to?"

"Letting others use the Bifrost, for example. And--"

"Alright, alright," Thor sighs, then turns to the Avengers, "My friends, this is Asgard's gatekeeper, Heimdall. Heimdall, you obviously know the Avengers."

The Gatekeeper nods toward the group, before turning to stare out of the big hole in the wall, which Bruce now sees leads into what looks like an abyss.

"My prince, I hope you do what is right."

"Indeed I shall," Thor says with fierce determination.

Clint smirks, "We'll deal with your snake infestation. Don't worry."

Heimdall sighs with... relief? No, more like weariness. He quickly glances at the group, looking at-- looking at Bruce?

"At least I know you have some intelligent people with you," Heimdall says, in a way that seems like he's hinting at something Bruce finds maybe just a little funny.

"I know, I'm a genius," Tony says, speaking like the egotistical prat everyone knows he is.

(Something in Bruce wants to ask What about me? I'm smart too, Tony, right? Isn't that what you always say?)

Heimdall gives a nod that looks more like a shrug. Thor motions toward his friends.

"Come along! Asgard awaits us!"

And so does your brother.

This won't end well.

Chapter Text

Loki is tired.

Very, very tired.

Honestly, he (and probably everyone around him) thinks it a miracle that he's still standing.

Eir has been nagging him to get rest but he doesn't have time for that. All day he has to deal with the Council, listening to the people's complaints, and filing paperwork throughout the night.

Loki doesn't know how Odin ever got any sleep.

Oh wait. He does. Odin never cared to help the people with their problems. He didn't spare a moment to listen to their complaints. Loki only found this out because when he asked when it started, the guards looked at him like he had eight heads.

Then again, they always look at him strangely. The blank-faced guards of his childhood somehow have vanished into thin air, replaced by people who don't seem to respect his unwanted title. People who constantly nagged him about every little thing.

"You should rest now, my king."

"Are you hungry, Your Majesty? You missed lunch."

"My king, you look unwell. Should we go to the healers?"

No, no, no!

When had the people decided not to leave him alone?

All Loki needs right now is for his fath-- Odin to awaken and reclaim his damn throne. But that stupid old man just decided to drop near-dead right when Loki was finally becoming at peace with his situation.

The situation being solitary confinement and the fact that Thor really does no longer love him.

("When we fought each other in the past... I did so with a glimmer of hope that my brother was still in there somewhere--"

But I'm here-- I'm here I'm here I'm RIGHT HERE--)

And suddenly the guards came up to him like hi we need you to be king please and you can't really say no so-- and all but dragged him out of his safe haven to be ruler of literally every realm. Him. A war criminal. A conquerer--

No, wait. Yeah, he does kinda fit the bill.

But Loki doesn't want this! He doesn't want to be king of this stupid realm of stolen gold that floats on a river of blood. He just wants to be alone. He doesn't need anyone. No one should need him. He shouldn't exist, in their minds. Why couldn't they have locked him away and forgotten where the key resided?

Why can't you just leave me in peace? Alive or dead--

Loki stares into the mirror, trying to figure out the color of his own eyes. You know, to stop his oncoming identity crisis. But they're weird. Green-blue, depending on the lighting.

At least they aren't electric blue.

He never wants to see that color again.

Someone knocks on his door and he turns around, fidgeting with the straps of his less-formal armor (which he hasn't worn in years) to make it feel less suffocating.

"My king, do you need any assistance?"

Loki sighs at the voice of the young servant, "No, I'm fine." He tries to use a commanding tone, but for some reason it never works.

"Heimdall has sent a message," the boy, from the sound of his voice, continues, "Prince Thor and some friends of his have arrived."

Again, Loki sighs and mutters, "Of course." Then he raises his voice to be heard, "Send some guards to escort them to the throne room. Take the scenic route. I'll be out sooner or later."

"Yes, my king. Would you like--"

"No, I do not need assistance, thank you!"

Loki hears the footsteps retreat and tries to rub the exhaustion from his eyes. He glances back toward his reflection.

The man who stares back at him is almost young. The raven hair that was trimmed when he was first brought out has grown back a couple of inches in the last... few months? A year? He's less pale, having found a couple minutes a week to wander around the gardens in the sun. But he's still very thin. That's probably why the servants are close to force-feeding him every time he sits down.

The man in the reflection is trying to impersonate someone.

That someone is long dead.

Loki looks away, scared that if he stares a second more, he might break the mirror. 

"My king, is everything alright in there?"

What-- Oh.

The mirror is already broken. Whoops.

"Everything is fine," Loki says through gritted teeth.

He kneels to pick up the shards, gathering the big ones in his hand before dropping them in the wastebasket. He almost yelps when one cuts his right palm. He groans, because he hates when his dominant hand is injured. It's such a hassle to not be able to use it.

Loki carefully inspects the wound before walking toward the bathroom. He runs water over it in the sink, watching the red swirling down the drain. Then he carefully inspects it again. It's deep. Damn it. 

He slowly waves his left hand over it, wisps of green floating onto the wound and creating a thin string, which stitches the sides together. Magical stitches, which will vanish once the cut is healed. 

A perk of being able to now fully use his magic. The only part of being out of his cell that he's happy about. 

It's still bleeding, though, so Loki wraps it in a bandage and covers it with his sleeve.

Hopefully, no one sees it.

Hopefully...

Loki shakes his head and returns to the rom, staring at the mirror pieces that he can't pick up with his hands. The broom from his bedroom is gone. The servants apparently get offended when he does their work. When did that become a thing?

One more sigh, a mournful glance toward a drafted letter covered with aggressive scribbles, and grabbing his helmet to put on his head, Loki pushes open the door to his room. The guards stand outside, one holding Gungnir out for him to take.

(Just like after Thor's--)

Loki numby takes his unwanted burden, listening as they refer to him with an undeserved title.

"Shall we go to the throne room, my king?"

No. No, we shall not! The throne room is for kings. The throne room is for the royal family. The throne room isn't for a monster! You foolish, foolish human, why do you not understand? I'm not a king. I am your worst nightmare--

"Sure," Loki says blankly instead, gathering all of his strength to not look like the unhinged monster he truly is. 

Born to die, and all that. 

His actual birthright.

The guards share a (concerned?) look before simultaneously nodding. The group makes their way through the halls, big, empty, and very cold for some reason.

Loki wonders, not for the first time, if the guards are for his protection or to keep him from attacking someone. Because, honestly, these days he feels moments away from doing so.

I'm so tired.

The throne room is the same as every other day. The throne is mockingly high and the doors are much bigger than needed. 

Loki takes his seat, wishing, again, that the throne was a bit shorter. 

And, unlike the first time he'd sat upon it, he sits stiffly upright. No dramatic lounging, just sitting straight with one hand holding the spear and the other anxiously tapping his knee.

"My king," one of the guards says, before he needs to leave the room, "The queen did ask if you could join her--"

"Maybe later," Loki interrupts, waving the man away.

The guard nods curtly and exits the room, the heavy door slamming shut loudly behind him. Loki gives a heavy sigh and slumps.

Anything that isn't his kingly duty comes later.

Later. Later. Much, much, later.

Hopefully never, if Odin wakes up soon.

I mean, seriously, can't he recharge his Odinforce when he regularly sleeps? Like, then he wouldn't have to take giant breaks and leave his kingdom in the hands of his failure of a pet project.

He shifts in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position. But solid gold isn't comfortable, especially when you know exactly which kingdoms the material was stolen from. What kingdoms were forced to create it.

It was part of his studies actually. Except the word "stole" was replaced by "was gifted to" and "forced to create" was "offered most graciously."

Note to self: Send apology letters to Alfheim and Nidaviller. Maybe send them some of their belongings back.

Loki uses Gungnir to feel, feel throughout the grounds of Asgard to the coming visitors. They aren't far.

Another sigh. (He has been sighing a lot recently.)

What do the people who direct plays on Midgard say?

Ah, yes.

Showtime.

Chapter Text

Asgard is...

Big? Amazing? Splendiferous?

All of the above, Bruce thinks as he looks around.

His friends agree with his sentiments, because Tony looks like he just died and went to heaven, Clint and Steve are both gawking, and even Natasha has to pick her jaw up a couple of times.

The glittering golden castle stands out against the green mountains that encircle it. Around the castle, there are two sets of walls. One is shorter and encircles the caste itself and the other is taller, cutting off some of the browner-looking villages farms outside of the rich areas.

Ba Sing Se deja-vu, am I right?

Bruce says this to Tony, who either hears or doesn't hear but thinks of something rather disturbing, from the look on his face.

If Bruce focuses hard enough, he can almost forget that this isn't a planet, but a slab of dirt and rock hovering above an abyss.

A bunch of guards, who seemed to have materialized out of thin air, escort them toward the palace. It seems like a long distance and Thor does suggest horses, but the guards say that the scenic route is better. Bruce isn't complaining, even if his feet hurt.

Tony is being very vocal about the aching feet, though. So is Clint. Natasha has been through rigorous training and Bruce doubts Steve can ever get tired with his serum enhancements.

As we walk (pointedly avoiding the lower ring, Bruce notices) and see a lot of big buildings and homes.

There are plenty of different types of people they see. Most are wearing expensive looking clothes, gold and silver silks for woman and heavy leathers and armor for men. Some others look more like servants, wearing duller brown cottons. The rich people, probably nobles, give the Avengers strange looks, like they're mud on their boots. The poorer people look at them with curiosity and awe.

Bruce doesn't know how he feels about that.

When they finally, finally reach the castle, Bruce realizes how big it is.

Wow. Like-- Wow!

"That is the corridor to the rooms where you'll be staying," Thor says, pointing everything out, "In that direction is the healers' halls and the dining hall."

"You have a sick house, Thor!" Clint exclaims, walking while spinning in circles yet never getting dizzy.

Thor frowns for a moment, then nods. Obviously, he forgot what "sick" meant in that context.

"I mean, it's not too bad," Tony says, looking a little jealous. He taps his little earpiece and mumbles to himself, "FRIDAY, start a list on tower improvements."

Bruce laughs to himself as Steve nods sagely, "Your kingdom has such an interesting culture and heritage."

"Let's just hope it doesn't get destroyed during the oncoming Age of Terror," Clint mutters darkly.

Bruce groans. Why, Clint? Why must you ruin the moment? Natasha also looks a little annoyed at her companion's remark.

Thor scowls and nods, "Let us proceed to the throne room."

The big hallway they walk down leads to an equally big set of doors, which are slowly and dramatically pushed open by about ten guards. Just like everything else in this realm, the throne room is big and gold. The throne is big and gold too.

And, as expect, the not-man, the used-to-be-myth, the evil-legend himself, sat on it.

Bruce hates to admit it but being a king really suits him.

Loki sits straight on the throne, unlike the casual yet dramatic lounge one would expect from a guy like him. You know, the supervillain spinny-chair "Well, well, well." dramatic kinda thing. His grip on the giant, golden spear in his hand is tight in an almost-possessive kinda way. 

His helmet is cleaner than during the invasion and his armor is completely different. His hair is shorter, enough so that it barely peeks out under the helmet.

Damn, his helmet really is his most identifiable feature.

But no matter how clean his armor is, Bruce can see little details that betray Loki's act. There are shadows under the conqueror's eyes and his face is just as gaunt and thin as when Bruce first saw him.

"Ah, brother dearest, I see you've returned already."

Loki's voice is different, Bruce subconsciously notes. He's not yelling and his tone isn't ordering people around. He also doesn't sound like a rabid wolf or like he just recovered from a very bad sore throat anymore.

He's just... talking.

"I care not for your games, Loki," Thor says, stepping forward, "Hand over Gungnir or face our wrath."

Loki starts to laugh, like this amuses him, but then a strange look crosses his face and the laugh dies halfway. He stands and walks down the steps, rubbing his free hand over his face as he holds out the spear. 

The Avengers' hands immediately move to their weapons (or, in Bruce's case, takes a step back) but look startled when he doesn't move to attack.

He just... holds out the spear to Thor.

Thor doesn't look impressed.

"Loki, enough with your tricks," he demands.

The currently-king looks deeply annoyed and something else Bruce can't quite read, "This isn't a trick, I've already told you."

"You've deceived me enough. I've learned to see through your lies. I will not fall for--"

"You're not falling for anything. Take it."

"I grew up with you. I know how much of a manipulator you are--"

"But not right now! You want this? Take it."

"Know that I will not stand for your tricks and illusions--"

"Oh for heaven's sake, Thor, take the goddamn spear!"

Loki's shout echoes throughout the room, making even himself flinch at the sound. He continues offering the spear to Thor, who is seemingly frozen in place. 

Bruce is moments from losing his patience and shoving it into Thor's hands himself when the thunderer finally moves to take it. He picks it up and holds it straight for a moment.

And then it vanishes from his hand in a burst of gold light. It reappears in Loki's. The currently-king seems rather displeased.

"See?"

"Loki," Thor growls, "Stop with your games."

"This isn't a game," Loki says, thrusting the spear into his brother's arms only to have it return to him a second later, "No matter how much I try, I can't give the damn throne to you. I physically cannot!"

"Why?!" Thor shouts back.

"I told you! The regent cannot pass on the throne to another. Only the true king can. It is the law. It is enchanted to be kept from being broken."

"Well un-enchant it!"

Loki sputters, "Un-enchant it?! How the hell would I un-enchant it?! It was set in stone by sorcerers hundreds of millennia older and stronger than the two of us combined. The spell is enforced by their willpower and unable to be reversed. To ask to un-enchant it is just stupid! Do I ask you to go and un-electrocute the people you fry with your lightning?"

Thor opens his mouth, probably to retort, but Loki continues his rant. Apparently, he hasn't yet noticed the Avengers.

"Do you think I haven't tried to get rid of this burden? Do you think I want this throne?"

"Well, you tried to become the Overlord of Midgard!"

"I did not--"

Loki freezes, stopping himself mid-sentence. His eyes are distant for a moment, as if thinking about something for a moment. He jerks his head suddenly and turns to face the entire group again, a happy-yet-very-fake grin plastered across his face.

Dear god, it's creepier than his evil smile.

Loki bows in a respectful way. "Avengers," he says, the word sounding like a burden to speak, "It truly is wonderful for you to finally visit our realm. I was expecting Thor to have brought you much sooner."

Bruce shivers involuntarily.

"We were a bit busy," Tony says, snippy as always, "You know, stopping psychos from destroying our home. I'm sure you'll understand, there are always crazy people who need wrangling."

"But of course," Loki says, creepy smile growing wider and voice going a bit higher, "After all, those who make messes need to fix them. And, might I say, your creation... er-- Ultron. He was very much like his creator."

Tony puts on an equally fake smile now, but his eyes visibly glint with venom, "You got that right. And, hey, I guess I accidentally modeled him after you too. Ya know, no care for human life and all that."

Loki doesn't reply immediately, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side. Like he's curious. Like a predator inspecting their prey.

"It truly is wonderful for you to have finally come to visit this realm," Loki repeats, slowly, "I expect you'll be staying for some time?"

"Well, yeah," says Clint, "We've got this monster in need of babysitting until someone stronger can properly deal with it."

Bruce barely suppresses a flinch. Okay, that was a bit harsh. 

Bruce expects Loki to snap, to say something about being a god (which he is not) or threatening to tear their team to shreds.

Instead, the asshole makes his smile wider. Seriously, this guy is gonna rip his face in half.

"If you wish to stay for longer, I'll have some guards escort you to some spare chambers."

Damn, he's starting to sound like those automated phone bots.

"And what if we don't want to put all of our trust in a genocidal maniac?"

Why don't you just shut up, Clint?

Loki flexes his fingers, as if trying to keep himself from clenching his fists, "If the chambers aren't to your liking, the cells in the dungeons have recently been cleaned. Many of the prisoners no longer reside there, right, brother dearest?"

Clint looks ready to make another snappy retort but Bruce interrupts him, "The rooms are fine, thank you."

Clint and Tony both look at Bruce, one glaring and the other a little shocked. Why wouldn't he be? Bruce never interrupts. He's a good boy, just like mommy always wanted him to be. Daddy was too busy being a bitter fool to care.

Where the hell did those thoughts come from?!

"Yeah, the chambers are fine," says Steve, putting on a nervous smile, "Preferably near Thor's room, if you don't mind?"

Loki nods, "Of course. Anything for warriors like yourselves. Dinner is in an hour, so you might prefer to take your remaining time to unpack and get ready."

On cue, a bunch of guards enter the throne room to escort them to the bedrooms. Thor casts his brother a look, but Loki ignores it in favor of walking out of the throne room via some secret passage or something.

As they head toward the rooms, one thought crosses Bruce's mind. The way Loki acted after noticing the Avengers, it's so similar to the way the Avengers act during press conferences. Fake, yet perfected in a way that no one who didn't really know the person could tell.

So Loki wears a metaphorical mask.

Interesting.

Chapter Text

"I don't believe it. Nope. He's lying. This is all one big, manipulative plot to take over everything. No, no, nope!"

Bruce sighs as his fellow science-bro rambles. The Avengers had put their stuff in their guest rooms and met up in Thor's chambers. Just like his style and armor, everything is red and glittery gold. Even the fucking trash can is made of gold. The roof is tall and painted with murals depicting faceless warriors slaying beasts in a bloody massacre.

"You're being paranoid."

"I'm not falling for it!" Tony snaps, "For all we know, this could be a trap. He could be ready to lock us in a cage at any moment or-- or poison us or--"

"Gosh, Tony," Steve interrupts, "Aren't you overreacting just a bit? He hasn't shown any malicious intent. Toward us, I mean."

"Steve's right," Natasha nods.

Clint scowls, "I, for one, do not agree. Tony's right. This could be one big plot to dispose of us and take over Earth."

"He's already in charge of Asgard. Why would he want Earth? The Tesseract is here and if he wanted what remained of the scepter he probably would've manipulated Thor into bringing Vision here."

"But, my friends," Thor says, "My brother is very good at concealing his true intent until the last moment."

"Like during the invasion? When he outright told us his plan?" Bruce rolls his eyes, but no one seems to hear him.

"We'll just be cautious," Steve says, "I mean, if he wanted to kill us, he'd already have done so. Let's just go to dinner."

"What, so he can poison us?" Tony snarks.

"You watch too many movies," Natasha says, turning to Thor, "What would be good for us to wear?"

"Your best clothes."

"Our best ones?" Clint frowns, "But it's a normal night. Shouldn't we save them for something important? Like, I dunno, celebratory feasts or something?"

"I'm afraid, my friends, that what is considered extremely fancy on your planet would be average in this realm."

The room is silent for a moment, mostly because everyone is uncomfortable about the cultural differences on Asgard.

"Whelp!" Tony claps his hands, "Good thing I brought at least five suits!"

"What should we wear if something special happens?" Steve asks.

"Your armor would suffice."

Right, Bruce thinks, because this is the guy who wore his armor to the first party we held. Warrior realm, this is.

"Alright-y, folks!" Tony, the over dramatic man he always is, says with a grand gesture of his arms, "We're gonna go put on our stuff and be back soon. Meet outside this room in ten. Good? Good. Let's head out, team."

The group exits the room and Bruce goes into his chambers. It's two to the right of Thor's and the others' rooms are all to the left of Thor's. Bruce wonders what's in the room between them.

His borrowed chambers have only one similarity to Thor's and that is the gold. The room itself is half as big (and even that is pretty big) and the murals are of happy royals holding garden parties instead of battles. The sheets on the bed are off-white with gold accents and the furniture has simpler carvings.

Bruce slips out his suitcase from under the bed, going through the clothes until he finds the suit Tony had forced him to pack. The blazer and pants are both a deep purple, the collared shirt is white, and the tie is dark green. Tony chose it, not him.

When he steps out again, feeling suffocated in his tie, Bruce finds most of the group assembled outside Thor's room, sans Thor himself and Tony. Obviously, because they were probably the ones who were going to take the longest because Tony is a diva who wears stuff to get attention and Thor has all that armor.

Steve has a navy suit and black tie. Clint has a grey suit and a lavender tie. Natasha wears a simple black dress that falls to her knees and has long ruffled sleeves, her hair tied up in a messy bun.

"You okay, big guy?" Natasha asks and Bruce realizes he's been pulling on his tie. It isn't his fault. He feels like the damn thing is choking him.

"Fine," he mumbles, "Just-- Er--"

"Nervous?"

"A little. And... confused."

"Confused?"

"I--" Bruce glances at Clint, who's conversing to Steve about the difference between an arrow and a spear. Bruce lowers his voice a bit, "I have a weird feeling about Loki."

"Yeah, me too," Natasha says with a nod, "He's... strange. His body language is so different from when we were fighting him and the way he's acting, it's like..."

"Like he's a completely different person."

"I was going to say like he's being possessed. I mean, think about it. He could've been venerable in his cell, so something could've gotten to him there. Then, when the time came, he took the throne. Whatever is affecting him could be using him as a kind of vessel, a puppet, to rule one of the strongest Realms."

Bruce frowns deeply, "You really think that? It seems kinda far fetched."

"It's possible."

"But Loki is a very strong sorcerer. He wouldn't let someone just sneak into his mind."

"He's not what Thor says he is," Natasha shakes her head, "I mean, all we've ever seen him do is a few illusions. All the power he had came from the scepter and the Tesseract. He's not powerful, he just tricks people into thinking he is. He's all bark, no bite."

"Well--"

"Alright, people!" Tony's voice echoes throughout the corridor and Bruce turns to see him wearing a matching dark grey suit and tie with a red collared shirt.

At that moment, Thor's door opens and he steps out. His heavy battle armor is replaced by a lighter-looking version without his cape and still with a lot of leather.

How many animals died for this entire realm to have clothes like that?

"Alright, my friends, we best be off," the hammer wielder declares.

"Yes. Onward!" Tony says, dramatically pointing down the hall. 

"Friend Tony."

"What?"

Thor points in the opposite direction. Tony pivots on his heel.

"Onward."

"You seem excited," Steve notes.

"For the guy who thinks we're gonna get poisoned," Clint adds.

"Well, I just think this is going to be fun," Tony shrugs, "Pepper is trying to get me to have a positive outlook on life, ya know?"

"You're gonna annoy Loki."

"I'm gonna annoy Loki."

Chapter Text

The dining hall is grand, the tall ceilings painted with depictions of great feasts. The table is big, but Thor explains that this one is only for the royal family and close friends or guests. The one used for celebrations is apparently much larger.

Honestly, it's kind of overwhelming. What Bruce would give to be alone in a little shack, sitting on the ground with a small amount of food. At least then, he wouldn't be speaking to Thor's friends.

Thor's friends, the warriors named Sif, Hogun, Fandral, and Volstagg, are very loud, very strong looking, and very Thor-like. They're also yes men. Bruce hates yes men.

"We don't know when it happened," says the flirty-looking blonde one, Fandral, explaining what they knew about Loki's accession to the throne, "We've been in Vanaheim since you left and only returned a month before you did the first time. He's only spoken to us once."

"What happened?" Steve asks.

"What's to be expected from a conniving worm like him," Sif growls, "He gave the same excuses as he said to you. And he said we could be exiled for treason."

"That wasn't him," Hogun says, "It was a messenger."

"A messenger he sent."

"Treason? What treason?" Thor asks with a frown.

"Plotting to collapse the Asgardian government."

"Gee, guys," Tony says, rubbing the back of his head, "As much as I'd love to discuss overthrowing your king, I'm kinda hungry. Maybe we could do this later? On a full stomach?"

"Possibly poisoned full stomach," Clint smirks, earning a jab in the ribs.

"One time, I said that. One. Time."

The conversation wraps up (much to Bruce's relief) and they take their seats at the table. It's a long table made of dark, solid wood with intricate carvings along the edges. Bruce shouldn't be surprised. Everything in this realm is carved, painted, or shaped into depictions and things of beauty (or destruction).

There are four seats at the head of the table, each probably meant to be fore the royal family and each with their own uniquely carved arms and back. The largest one, probably the king's, is almost center, the most extravagantly designed with things Bruce doesn't know how to explain. The second largest to the left, probably the queen's, is much simpler, carved with flowers and vines that are almost calming to look at. To the right of the king's is one that is obviously Thor's. The carvings depict a violent storm, thick layers of clouds pierced by jagged bolts of lightning with an image of Thor's hammer directly at the center.

The last one, to the far left, past the queen's seat, is most likely Loki's. Not because it's the last remaining seat or because it's the smallest of them all. No. Bruce knows it's Loki's because of how startlingly different it is from the other chairs. The wood is at least five shades darker, almost black, and the carving doesn't have a consistent theme. Half of the chair's carvings are smooth lines in a fire-like pattern while the other side is jagged, sharp-looking ice. There are strange markings around the edges that Bruce thinks are runes in some ancient language and at the center, there is an image of two snakes intertwined in a way that looks like an eight.

Prince of Chaos, Bruce thinks, remembering one of Loki's titles, or, actually, King of Chaos now.

Thor takes his reserved seat right away, visibly trying to avoid looking at Loki's seat. His warrior friends sit on the side of the table, close to him. The Avengers hesitate for a moment, then Steve takes charge. He motions for the others to sit on the opposite side of the table. Clint sits about five seats down from the head of the table, farthest from Loki. Natasha sits next to him, then Steve, then Tony, leaving Bruce to sit next to the magical maniac. Lovely. Real nice, guys.

Whatever. It's fine. It makes sense. Anything goes wrong and the Hulk will deal with it.

Bruce sits down and fiddles with the ornate golden silverware as he listens to the conversation that had been struck up by Steve, also known as the only guy in the group with average social skills. Everyone else varies from inept to manipulatively advanced.

"-- and, obviously, Clint decides to make things worse and says Even the police could deal with this idiot! And this infuriated the guy, so he activated the laser beam--"

"Mind you, Cap's shield was stuck to the wall," Clint adds, "So he was being of no use whatsoever."

"And then the Hulk came smashing in!" Tony exclaims, slamming his hand on the table, "And he busted the laser but ended up taking half an apartment complex with him!"

"That sounds like it was a magnificent battle!" Fandral says, then frowns, "But what is this Hulk you speak of?"

"Oh, that's Bruce," Tony says, jerking his head in said scientist's direction.

The warriors frown with confusion and Thor speaks up, "My friends, he has powers that transform him into a furious green beast! It is incredible!"

"Well, technically Bruce and the Hulk aren't the same person," Tony clarifies, "We all know Bruce isn't really a fighter. He's more of a background guy."

The warriors nod in understanding and the Avengers continue the story. Bruce stops listening, staring at his plate and trying to process what they said.

Background? No, no, he probably doesn't mean it in that way--

Bruce frowns.

Does he?

The doors open again, distracting him. Bruce looks up and sees Loki enter, no longer wearing his helmet or carrying around the big spear-thing. Walking next to him is an older woman with silver hair tied in a long braid that falls to her waist and a dress that looks like a uniform of sorts. She's talking to him about something and he doesn't seem very happy about it. Bruce can hear part of the conversation as they get closer.

"-- rest, my king," the woman says.

"I don't have time for such trifle matters," Loki growls in annoyance.

"Trifle? It's necessary! You must!"

"I'll attend to it when I have time, Lady Eir, but currently it is not a matter of importance."

"Not a--" the woman, Eir, sputters, then takes a deep breath, "Alright, my king, but please make time."

Loki waves her away and goes to sit in his seat. As if on cue, a stream of servants come out of absolutely nowhere, placing trays of food on the table. They all were strange variations of Earth dishes, mostly meats and some strange colored sauces or something. Bruce stares, about as confused as the other human at the table, who are hesitantly copying whatever Thor and his friends do.

Thor, interestingly enough, hasn't even acknowledged Loki's arrival. Bruce thinks that he would've at least cast his brother a glare, same as everyone else at the table.

Tony, contrary to the belief that he doesn't want to get poisoned, immediately starts shoveling the foreign food into his mouth, much to the amusement of Clint.

"Wow, Thor," Steve says, speaking before Tony can attempt to with his mouth full, "This is really good."

"Our chefs cook only the best," Thor says with a grin, "That, to which you are referring to, is a dish made with powdered høste drage scales."

Tony pauses mid-scoop, staring down at the meat coated in a strange green substance. Then he looks to Thor and says, "I don't know what that is and I don't want to know. Please don't ruin this for me," before proceeding to eat more.

Bruce laughs into his hand as the group's discussion continues. He doesn't find interest in it, since it's mostly about battle tactics and stuff. He finds his eyes lingering toward Loki, who is picking at his food. Unlike everyone else at the table (sans Bruce) he has a plate full of what Bruce has guessed to be vegetables. Is he vegetarian? Or is it something else? Dammit, I'm not even that kind of doctor! Why am I wondering these things?

Bruce shakes his head and pretends to not notice when a servant comes up to the table and whispers something into Loki's ear. The king looks deeply annoyed, but politely dismisses him. Bruce watches Loki slip out of his seat and disappear through one of the mysterious hidden doorways.

Moments later, the lady from earlier, Eir, appears at Loki's seat. She fiddles with some of the things around it, seemingly tidying up some utensils, until Bruce notices something drop from her hand into Loki's cup. She looks up, noticing Bruce's stare, and winks.

Uh, did I just witness Loki's food getting poisoned or something?

Eir backs away from the seat, vanishing through a hidden doorway just as Loki returns, looking a little pleased for once. He sits down and Bruce looks away before he's caught staring again.

Thor is now recollecting another thrilling adventure he had with the Avengers, seemingly enjoying the looks of awe given to him by his warrior friends.

"And Stark sent the explosive into the portal, destroying the alien mother ship! Then Natasha shut down the portal, sealing it off for good."

"Of course, that was when we arrested the invasion leader," Tony says smugly, casting a quick glance to his left for some reason.

"It wasn't even that hard," Clint says with a smirk, also glancing to the left, "The Hulk had already beaten him into a pulp and we probably could've just knocked him out if he put up a fight. Kinda wimpy, you know?"

Bruce frowns. What battle was this? What are you--?

Oh.

New York.

Ohhh...

The loud talking. The pointed looks. The glaring. That makes sense now.

Loki, evidently, knows that they're talking about him right in front of his face, but doesn't seem mad about it. Just... deeply annoyed. He picks up his goblet and takes a sip--

Oh, I probably should've told him what happened. Too late now, I guess.

He doesn't seem poisoned, Bruce thinks, so maybe it'll be fine. He's magic. What's the worst that could happen?

Loki seems tired after that, staring at his plate and completely ignoring his surroundings. His plate, Bruce notices, gets progressively emptier as time passes but he's never seen actually eating. 

Eventually, the surrogate king stands and moves to leave. Apparently, no one but Bruce even cares to acknowledge this.

Loki opens the large main doors and steps out, a loud thud echoing from the hall a moment later. Eir appears moments later, walking past the table and leaving the room as well, giving Bruce a quick wave before shutting the door behind her.

Well... that was weird.

Chapter Text

Bruce has been awake for the past hour, while it was still dark outside his window. As strange as it seems, Asgardian days are about the same as Earth ones, even with the whole flat planet thing, so Tony had put a new setting on all of the Avengers' phones so they could tell Asgardian time. 

It was about a quarter past five when Bruce woke up and knew he couldn't go back to sleep. He'd been tired last night, since Thor had kept them up late to keep talking to the warriors, so Bruce had just come into his room and fallen asleep the moment he lay down. Now that he's slept for the minimum amount, his body refused to shut down again. Everything was too much. It was too dark. Too quiet. Too soft. Too gold.

He'd gotten up, gotten dressed in normal day clothes, and was now standing in front of the door, ready to roam around aimlessly for an hour and a half until eight o'clock, which was breakfast.

If only he could open the damn door.

The ornate, crystal knob is hard under his hand. The lock is already open and the handle is twisted. All he needs to do is pull. 

But he can't.

Why can't I?

Oh come on, you little freak! You can create a gamma-fueled rage-monster but you can't open a door?

Bruce grits his teeth and keeps himself from flinching at the voice. He yanks the door open and steps out before he can change his mind. The door shuts behind him and he sighs.

Step one. Complete. And the crowd goes wild! Raaahhhhh!

Bruce smiles to himself and continues walking until he realizes that he has no idea where he's going.

Well... Step two was to wander aimlessly. The crowd isn't cheering as loudly though.

He continues walking. The halls are lit up with candles and faint light coming from outside as the sun rises slowly. It's peaceful. Quiet. But not too much. There are guards stationed at the end of most corridors, talking to each other in low voices as they glance at Bruce for half a second before returning to their conversations.

They don't act wary or cautious, scared of agitating him.

They don't know what happens if he loses control.

Bruce buries those thoughts as he walks, enjoying the calmness. He comes across a door. It isn't as big as the main entry to the castle, but he can tell it's an exit by the windows next to it. Curiosity gets the better of him and he steps through. 

There are a few stone steps leading down. The bottom is a big stone circle, as far as Bruce can tell. There are big beds of flowers along the edges and making a circle in the center. The plants are all vibrant colors, now properly visible as the sun begins to rise. Bright greens, reds, whites, and everything in between jump out at him.

Bruce wanders in between the rows, spotting a few cards that probably identify what they are but he can't read the language. In the center of the inner circle, there is a round marble table with chairs surrounding it. 

He stops in front of a green plant, big leaves formed into an upside down cup-like shape. The inside is painted pink and it smells like an unidentifiable fresh fruit. Bruce has the sudden urge to touch it.

"Careful. That one's carnivorous."

His hand snaps back and he whirls around to see Loki standing to his right, two guards behind him. The ravenette is holding several scrolls under one arm and a black box under the other.

"Oh-- I-- Am I not supposed to be here?"

"No, the gardens are open to anyone," Loki says, "But you should be careful. That one eats people."

"It does?" 

Bruce turns back toward it. Sure enough, the cup-like flower suddenly lurches forward, snapping at him. He jumps back, letting out a little yelp. He sees Loki cover his mouth for a moment.

"I'll--" Bruce backs away from the man-eating plant, "I'll keep that in mind. What are you doing up so early?"

"Work, Dr. Banner," Loki says, turning to the guards and making a shooing motion. They leave and he turns back motioning toward the little gazebo-thing seating area.

"Cool, cool," Bruce says, bouncing on his heels absently.

They share half an awkward moment before Loki suddenly turns on his heel and goes to sit at the table. Bruce hesitates for a second, then decides to follow. He peeks over Loki's shoulder at the scroll her opens.

"What work is it?"

"The annual checkup on Alfheim," Loki answers as he opens the black box, which seems to be empty. "Inquiries, trades, offering assistance for the recent black market dealings that have been taking place."

Bruce slides into the seat next to him, "Black market tradings?"

"Illegal stealing and selling of valuable tomes from the great library."

"That must be fun to deal with."

Loki half-nods, "At least the thieves have taste. A tome about the recent history of the Nine Realms and several about theoretical necromancy."

"Necromancy?" Bruce frowns, "Like, bringing back the dead and talking to spirits?"

"No." 

Loki takes out a quill and inkwell from his box. He pops open the inkwell's lid and places it onto the table, dipping in the large white feather used for writing.

"You cannot bring back the dead and speak to spirits," he says, putting his quill on the paper and beginning to write in some language Bruce can't read, "It's impossible and anyone who says otherwise is a liar or delusional. Theoretical necromancy is the practice of animating corpses and using them as one's minions. It's seen as disrespecting the dead, so it's never actually been used."

"So... using dead bodies as puppets."

"Basically."

Loki's quill moves across the paper in a fluid movement, black lines perfect against the cream paper.

"Okay..."

Bruce watches Loki work for a moment more.

"Asgardians haven't invented pens?"

"Oh, no. We have. I just find this fun and it looks much prettier, right?"

Bruce laughs, "Yeah. It does."

They both fall silent for a moment. Loki finishes his letter, scribbling what is definitely a signature at the bottom. He delicately waves his hand over the sheet to dry the ink.

"Sorry," Bruce says abruptly, backing up just a bit, "If-- If I'm disturbing you."

"What?" Loki looks up, eyes wide, "Oh-- No, no. It's-- You're not disturbing me. I'm fine. It's nice to have someone to talk to. Er... Why are you out here and not with your friends?"

Something about his tone makes Bruce's head change the sentence's meaning. Why are you hanging around me of all people?

"I woke up early," Bruce says, choosing to stare at the paper instead of Loki, "And I was kinda bored."

"Alright."

Loki doesn't make eye contact either.  He rolls up the scroll, apparently satisfied that the ink is dried, and pulls out a strange red candle from his box. Bruce watches intently as he holds the candle wick between his fingers. A bit of green mist forms around his fingers and a spark ignites the thread. The candle melts, dripping wax onto the scroll. After a few moments, it's blown out and Loki takes out a stamp of sorts. He presses it to the wax and, when it dries, removes it to reveal a symbol similar to the one on his chair in the dining hall.

"That's cool."

"It has to look presentable," Loki nods, "The court scribes have been becoming lazy during the last millennium."

He puts most of his supplies back into his box, leaving out the scroll, and lifts his right hand to his mouth. A sharp whistle echoes throughout the garden, almost making Bruce jump. 

He's about to ask what it was for, when a raven comes flying in. It lands on the table, probably having underestimated its momentum because it skids across the table and nearly falls off the other end. Loki lets out a soft laugh. The raven hops up to him and he strokes its head gently. Then he holds out the scroll. The bird delicately picks it up with its beak before taking off again.

"Messenger raven. Huginn, if I'm not mistaken. Muninn is on his usual patrol."

Bruce nods absently. This is exactly like Hogwarts, except it isn't owls.

Loki looks up at the sky and sighs, "It's going to be breakfast soon." He lets out a groan.

"What?" Bruce grins, "Don't want to interact with humans?"

"Yes."

Bruce laughs, "Same."

"But I have to," Loki says, "Or Eir will drag me there herself."

"Oh, I remember her. Is she, what, your aunt?"

"No, but she sure acts like it."

"She seems lovely."

"She is, but she's also always nagging me about taking care of myself."

"She sounds like--"

My mom. How she would always make sure I could do things on my own.

"Remember, Brucie, mommy's not always gonna be there to take care of you."

"-- like a really good person."

Loki nods, either not noticing or pretending not to notice Bruce swallow hard and shake away the intrusive thoughts.

"So," the king's regent stands, "we should be going. Your friends will be worried if we don't show up."

"What, will they think you kidnapped me or something?"

"Possibly."

"Oh. Well, if it means I don't need to interact with other human beings for a considerable amount of time..." Bruce gives him a meaningful look.

Loki's hand flies to his mouth but his eyes are bright with amusement, "Maybe later."

He picks up his box and holds it up like he's about to place it on a shelf. A moment later, it vanishes in a flash of green light. Bruce stares in shock and Loki seems even more amused with his awe.

"Pocket dimension."

"Every time..." Bruce trails of and tried again to speak, "Every time there's a theory on Earth, you either prove it right or wrong..."

"Well, we are much more advanced than your people."

"Come on, man. Spill your secrets!"

Loki grins, "Let's go and I'll tell you."

He motions for Bruce to follow him and they both walk out of the garden and up the stairs to the door. Bruce is grateful because he's sure he would've forgotten the way back.

Well, I guess this is the start to a highly unlikely friendship.

Chapter Text

Loki feels like he's making a horrible mistake by trusting Banner.

A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad mistake.

But he doesn't have the heart to do anything about it. He could easily make an offensive remark or remind the scientist that he's meant to be villainous, but Loki feels like it wouldn't be right.

Banner is nice to him. Loki isn't ready to ruin that just yet.

When they arrive at the dining hall, it's completely empty and the food is already set out. Loki sighs with relief and sits at his place. His plate has already been filled to the brim, much to his annoyance.

Eir... I can't eat this much...

Loki prods his food with his fork as Banner asks a couple more questions concerning his pocket dimension. He tries to explain and half expects the scientist to be confused, but Banner continues to listen intently.

The doors open five minutes later and the Avengers, Sif, and the Warriors three enter. They don't acknowledge Loki but seem surprised that Banner is there.

Agent Romanoff slips into the seat next to him, starting to talk in a low voice. Banner answers nervously and Romanoff hisses something back.

Loki suddenly hates the fact that Banner looks uncomfortable.

The scientist's head suddenly snaps in Loki's direction, "When you were explaining the pocket dimensions earlier, I was wondering something. If that's possible, what about other dimensions or, heck, the multiverse?"

Loki hums, "Well... Theoretically, I suppose it could be possible. But I'm quite certain that there's a difference."

"How so?" Banner leans forward, tone intrigued but eyes looking at Loki pleadingly.

Does he..? Does he want me to..?

Loki opens his mouth and lets himself ramble about hypothetical situations if such things like the multiverse existed, different dimensional plains, etcetera. Banner listens intently, seemingly happy to not have to speak with or even look at the other Avengers. Loki tries to avoid looking at them too, but he can still feel their eyes boring into him.

At some point in the lecture, Thor and the Warriors strike up a conversation to ignore Loki, but the Avengers remain silent and watchful. A few minutes after, Stark suddenly speaks up.

"Hey, Brucie-buddy. Are you feeling okay?"

Banner turns toward Stark, a look of complete innocence on his face. Like-- This man is more innocent than a kitten. Even with his ability to read people, Loki cannot see past how pure this human being is.

"I'm perfectly fine," Banner says, "Why? Is something wrong?"

"Wh-- No," Stark says quickly, shaking his head, "I, um, was just checking to see if the timezone change didn't throw you off. You know, jet lag."

"Yes," Romanoff says, eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, "We care about your well being."

Loki notices the way she discretely scans Banner, eyes flicking up and down for half a second before making eye contact. Her eyes are piercing, even if Loki isn't on the receiving end of them.

But why is she--

Oh. She's looking for signs of mind control. Of course.

Loki feels a little offended. She honestly thinks that he would stoop that low--

Actually, he did stoop that low. But that wasn't his fault!

Besides, he no longer has the scepter and his enchanting still needs work, so he couldn't do it well even if he wanted to.

"Hey, Reindeer Games."

It takes Loki a couple of seconds to realize that Stark is speaking to him. He looks up and blinks, "I beg your pardon?"

"Then beg," Stark grins, then his hand flies to his mouth, "Oh, god, I didn't mean to say that."

Stark stammers something about wanting to not be put in the dungeons for treason, but Loki is still thinking about what he said. He likes that quip. He might have to use that sometime.

"Please," Loki says, holding up a hand when he gets tired of Stark's rambling, which is now somehow concerning corrupt Midgardian law, "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to know," Stark says, "what does the King of Asgard do? Like, what's his job? Because Thor was talking about the council and stuff and I was kinda wondering whether the king ever actually does work for the kingdom or he's just sort of a mascot."

He's trying to manipulate Loki. Trying to make him say that he isn't a good king, or something like that. Loki is too tired to be angry or make a snappy remark, so he lets the logical section of his brain do the talking while the hard working, scheming section takes a bit of a rest.

"The King of Asgard's duties are usually decided by the king himself. In my case, I've been dealing with council meetings, trials, inter-realm correspondence, aiding the general public, and visiting ambassadors. Of course, there are some kings who, like your British monarchy, are barely more than mascots but also have extreme power over everything in the Realms. In fact, some will use their power to force bias upon people and dispose of anyone who defies them."

Loki picks up his glass of grape juice and mumbles before taking a sip.

"I've met plenty of bastards like that before."

A sudden, loud thud echoes throughout the hall, making almost everyone at the table jump. Loki turns to see the cause of the commotion, which is apparently but not surprisingly Thor. He stands with his fists on the table, evidently having slammed them down on it and spilled the contents of all plates, bowls, and goblets near him.

"I've had enough of this, Loki!" He growls, eyes narrowed, "I've had enough of your manipulation and your deception."

Loki makes a face, not only because he's confused but because whatever was in his cup had definitely been tampered with by someone other than Eir. He places it down and waves his hand to dispose of the toxic substance before looking toward Thor.

"What are you--"

Oh. He thought I meant Odin. Shit.

"You know exactly what I mean!" Thor snaps, "For the past two years, you've been manipulating everyone on Asgard. You've probably done something to my parents just for your own gain. When my father awakens, you'll be lucky if he's merciful enough to only silence you once more to stop your deceit."

That strikes a nerve. A very sensitive nerve. The manipulative part of Loki's mind suddenly activates, fueled by anger and bitterness.

He stands up just as abruptly as Thor, although he avoids wasting any food. His eyes burn into his adoptive brother, ready to unleash a wave of fury.

"Really? I am the manipulative one, Odinson? Or are we forgetting all the times you've gotten out of trouble-- trouble sometimes having dire consequences-- just because you were the king's most prized possession ."

"Do not speak of him that way--"

"I may speak of him however I please," Loki snaps, wrapping a hand around one arm of his chair and leaning toward Thor, a wicked grin set on his face, "After all, brother, I am the king now and I do what I want."

Loki's grin morphs from something less evil and more mocking.

"After all, isn't that what our father always did?"

Thor is red with rage, "My father would never do such a thing! But he has made mistakes, one of which concerns you. If I was in Father's place, all those years ago, I would've left you for dead in Jotunheim! Because no good could ever come from raising a monster's offspring!"

A couple of soft gasps sound around the room and Loki suddenly remembers that they aren't alone. He forces down the stab of hurt in his chest and only continues to smile at Thor.

"I love you too, Brother."

"You are a disgrace to the throne!" Thor shouts, "A disgrace to this family! A disgrace to all of Asgard!"

"Indeed, but what are you going to do about it?" Loki taunts.

In response, Thor holds out his hand and summons Mjolnir. He points it at Loki and, for a moment, Loki thinks he might attack. But he doesn't.

"Loki of Jotunheim, son of Laufey, I, Thor of Asgard and rightful heir to the throne of Odin, challenge you for the title of King of Asgard. Should I succeed, you will revoke your claim to the throne, be disowned from the house of Odin, and exiled from the Nine Realms for all of eternity and onward."

Loki feels his heart skip a beat. He refuses to openly show his shock, but internally he cannot believe it. Thor can't be serious! This is insane, even for him!

But Thor's face is blanker than he's ever seen it before, the face of the ruler Odin wanted Thor to be. He doesn't falter. He doesn't seem nervous.

He really means this.

"Do you accept my challenge, Laufeyson?"

Loki doesn't know how to react, so he does the most logical thing he can think of in half a second.

As the grin slips into a perfectly blank face, Loki nods.

"I accept your challenge, Brother."

Chapter Text

Bruce didn't properly process what happened until the door to the hallway slams loudly shut. He sees Eir emerge from wherever she's been hiding and leave the room too. He stands and decides to follow them, earning strange looks from his comrades who are still seated.

They don't matter right now.

When he steps out, Loki and Eir are about halfway down the hallway and arguing.

"You shouldn't have accepted."

"Well, I did."

"Go back in there and--"

"And what? Go back on my oath? Lady Eir, I may be manipulative but I am not without honor."

"What good is your honor and pride if you're dead or gone?!"

Loki shakes his head and turns toward Bruce as he approaches.

"What was that?" He asks.

"Thor challenged me for the throne and I accepted."

"But--" Bruce waves a hand aggressively at the door, "What was that?!"

Loki sighs and rubs his face as Eir speaks, "King Loki has been challenged for his throne. He will have to go up against the challenger in ritual combat. I must be going. Preparations need to be made."

Loki's face pulls into a grimace as he walks down the hall. Eir stares after him and sighs deeply.

"He doesn't know what he's doing," Bruce says, "Does he?"

"Do any of us ever know what we're doing?" Eir replies, then smiles softly at him, "Look after him please, Dr. Banner."

"I-- I'll try?"

Eir nods and starts walking in the other direction. Bruce stands there for a moment before running after Loki. It takes him a bit to catch up and he still needs to jog a little to keep up with the man's brisk strides.

"Ritual combat?"

"I must fight Thor in the arena. It's to be done as soon as possible, at noon. Not today. There isn't enough time for preparation. Tomorrow."

"You're fighting him to the death?!"

"Yes. Or surrender. Or knockout, but that hasn't ever been done," Loki says, "Mercy is seen as a weakness."

"So you're fighting Thor," Bruce nods, "Right, right. Cool. That's great."

"No, it isn't."

"Of course not!" Bruce says hysterically, "This is horrible! He's going to kill you!"

"Why does this matter to you?" Loki asks, looking genuinely curious.

"I don't like watching people get hurt."

Loki scoffs, "Right."

Bruce glares at him, "Just so you know, I don't control the Hulk. I don't like hurting people, but he just destroys what he wants."

"I'm not talking about your Hulk. I'm talking about your choice to join the Avengers if you prefer not to harm people."

"I-- What do you mean?"

Loki stops walking and raises an eyebrow.

"What?" Bruce asks, a strange feeling suddenly swirling in body.

"Dr. Banner, you realize that the Avengers fight people, correct?"

"The bad guys, yeah."

"And when they fight, they cause plenty of collateral damage and risk the lives of innocent people."

"We always try to save everyone--"

"Really?" Loki says, lips pulling into a sneer, "Have you ever actually seen the casualty count? Have you ever actually seen Iron Man or Captain America stop fighting to pull a single child out of the rubble or actively avoid bringing down buildings upon their opponents?"

"I..." Bruce racks his brain for an example, "Clint once--"

"Agent Barton is a wise man and has a family of his own. Anyone else?"

Bruce doesn't have an answer. He shrugs as he subconsciously wonders if Loki knows that he just complimented Clint.

Loki shakes his head, "As I said--"

"Spider-Man!"

"Spider-Man is a compassionate boy who wants nothing more than to make his mentor proud. Unfortunately, his mentor is Tony Stark, so unless something drastic happens, Peter Parker is going down the same, dark path."

"How do you know his identity?"

Loki smirks, "Unlike Odin, I care what happens to realms such as Midgard."

"Really?" Bruce crosses his arms, "Then why have we never received Asgard's help fighting villains?"

"You have. In fact, you have one of the greatest warriors of Asgard fighting by your side."

"Other than Thor."

Loki rolls his eyes, "Your team is powerful if they work together in the right way. Currently, you're about as efficient as trying to broom dust on a beach. Your inability to communicate with each other and come up with functional plans renders you unable to easily defeat a minor villain, in turn maximizing the collateral damage that could be caused during battle."

Bruce's jaw hangs open as he stares at Loki. The king's regent looks happy at the fact that he just rendered the scientist mute.

"I--" Bruce frowns, "What were we talking about again?"

Loki fiddles with his sleeve thoughtfully, then snaps his fingers, "Ah, right! Why do you even care that I'm going to fight Thor?"

"I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Again, why do you care?"

"Because I think you're cool and not as bad as everyone says you are!"

Loki blinks in shock and Bruce freezes, realizing what he just blurted out.

"Really?" Loki says, tilting his head with genuine curiosity.

"W-Well, yeah? Kinda? You're nicer than during the invasion and you're really smart and interesting. I guess you've kinda changed. People change. I know plenty of people who fought against our team and are now a part of it."

"Right..." Loki nods slowly, "So, you think of me as you do Ms. Maximoff?"

"Wanda?" Bruce asks, "She's--"

A conniving, manipulative little witch. She ripped out memories I'd locked away and trapped me in my worst nightmare. Then the team decided to let her join without even asking my opinion--

"I have mixed feelings about her, though no one cares to listen."

Loki nods again, being polite and not prying. Bruce is happy about that. Loki glances at a window and lets out what sounds like a Norse curse.

"Council meeting," he mutters as he starts walking briskly down the hall again, Bruce at his heels.

"Can I join you? I wanna see Asgard's governmental system."

Loki glances at him and shrugs, "Why not? Though, you may want to change into Asgardian attire. The Councilmen are all ancient men who've been around since Odin's father, so they're used to the traditional way. They think of all other realms as lesser beings, some, such as Midgard, more than others."

"They sound like they suck."

"Oh, they do. And most of them threw fits when I was crowned. They've actually been acting up a lot ever since I've been crowned. They don't like my ways, but I like to see the looks on their faces when I raise the taxes for the rich or don't allow people out of prison just because they're friends. Actually, I don't care what those old coots think. Those clothes are fine. Midgardian and proud."

"It's just a collared shirt," Bruce says sheepishly.

"I like it. It looks comfortable. I might get some of my own."

Loki pauses in front of a big door, similar to the one that leads to the dining hall. He quickly adjusts his armor, dusts himself off, and waves his hand through the air, summoning his spear from thin air. Really cool.

"Oh, and one more thing," Loki says quickly, "Don't eat or drink anything offered to you."

"What? Why?"

"Poison."

"Poison?!" Bruce sputters, but can't say anything more because the doors swing open, granting them entry to the room.

This room is about the same size as the dining hall, except it's more of a square than an elongated rectangle. In the center, there's a table in the shape of a banana, curved around a sort of lift in the ground that resembles a sort of stage. It looks like where someone would stand to present their show-and-tell object in primary school.

Seated around the table are about six people. To be honest, it looks like a viking-themed episode of Shark Tank.

Loki steps forward and says some sort of greeting in Norse, to which most of the people at the table nod their heads in reply. He then motions for Bruce to follow him to a pair of seats at the head of the table. Behind them is a big throne, though it's empty.

"King Loki," says a man, middle-aged, who holds himself similar to Steve and is clad armor that would probably crush a human man's bones if he tried to wear it, "It appears you are tardy, which is a rare occurrence."

Loki nods, "I had a little trouble with my brother, General Tyr, but I'm sure we still have enough time for this meeting."

"It is truly wonderful to have Prince Thor return to Asgard," says a man who looks as ancient as Asgard is said to be.

"Indeed," Loki replies, a tiny bit of sarcasm laced in his voice, "and he's brought company. This is Doctor Bruce Banner, one of the most intelligent people on Midgard. A scientist who works in gamma radiation and has been successful at tracking items such as the Tesseract without magical means."

The council members look toward Bruce, who tries to hide the embarrassment he feels because of all the attention. Their expressions range from shocked to mildly impressed, shock being the only woman at the table and mildly impressed being the haughty-looking elderly men.

"Midgardians have advanced that far?" The woman asks, raising an eyebrow as she brushes a strand of her blonde hair out of her face. In front of her sits a box, on which she rests her hands protectively.

Instead of answering, Loki turns toward Bruce, who tries to stammer out a response.

"Ah-- Er-- I guess Earth, or Midgard has been advancing pretty quickly, even in the last two or three decades. Especially with our recent discovery of life on other planets--"

"You didn't know of this since we visited?" Tyr asks with a tilt of his head.

"Well, we were pretty underdeveloped back then," Bruce says sheepishly, "And you guys were supernatural beings, so we saw you as gods, which you actually aren't. And of course our language has changed a lot since then so some stuff may have been lost in translation. To our modern society, until a few years ago, you were nothing more then the fictional tales written by our ancestors."

"And what made you realize it was all true?" The woman asks.

"When Thor showed up and showed all of his magical powers and stuff."

The woman looks ready to interrogate Bruce further, but one of the old councilmen raises his hand to silence her.

"Enough, Idunn. You may speak with the visitor later. We have more important things to discuss at the moment."

The woman, Idunn, frowns but nods and the meeting commences. Bruce tunes out the young man who appears, reading some things about the previous meeting and stuff. Once, he glances at Loki, who seems equally bored.

This'll be over soon.

Hopefully.

Chapter Text

It wasn't, in fact, over soon.

It went on for several hours.

It was an incredibly boring meeting. In the beginning, Bruce has to keep himself from falling asleep several times.

At some point, a drink appears next to him. He doesn't drink it until Loki, without breaking eye contact while talking to an older councilman, does a magic hand movement over it, then nudges it toward Bruce.

It's a sort of tangy fruit like an orange, but not quite. It sends a burst of energy through him, like that time Tony slipped several extra shots of espresso in his coffee, causing the Hulk to come out destroy the kitchen, living space, and half the training room before he was subdued. But this didn't increase his heartbeat, just gave him some energy.

Maybe a little too much. Now, instead of falling asleep, he was nervously bouncing his leg and twiddling his thumbs.

By the time it finished, he nearly collapsed in relief. Now he understands why Tony hates his company board meetings.

"You seem tired."

Bruce looks toward Loki, who seems mildly amused, "How are you still sane?"

"I'm not sure I am."

"Do you ever do anything fun?"

"I don't have much time. Usually after these meetings I have paperwork and--"

"Your Majesty?" A young servant girl interrupts, fidgeting nervously with the hem of her dress, "Lady Eir sent me to ask if you will be taking anything extra to the city today."

"City?" Loki blinks, "It's Tuesday?"

The girl nods curtly.

Loki lights up, "Well then, tell Eir that the usual is fine and that I'll be down there soon."

The girl nods again, more exuberantly this time, and walks away. Loki looks back toward Bruce.

"Actually, Dr. Banner, I do participate in some activities. Care to join me?"

"Sure. And Bruce is fine."

~~~

Clint aggressively sharpens his pocketknife, gritting his teeth as he tries to ignore everything coming out of Natasha's mouth.

"You realize that you're gonna sharpen that down to a nub, right?"

Clint scowls in her direction and covers it up, sticking the knife and the sharpener back into his pocket, "Will you just leave me be?"

"I will once I know that you're okay."

"I am okay!"

"You tinker with your trick arrows when you're anxious and you sharpen your knives when you're conflicted."

Clint internally curses his nervous tics, "Well it doesn't matter! I'm fine."

Natasha raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, fine. I just don't know how to feel about all of this. It's just... a mess. Thor is acting weird, Loki is impossible to read, and Bruce hasn't been seen since breakfast. I feel like I'm missing something and I hate it."

"Me too," Nat admits, "The pieces just don't fit. I've never seen Thor like this before. What he said was..."

"Mean. Cruel. Nothing like I've ever heard him say before."

"But we have. When we fight, he's harsh and bloodthirsty. The way he talks about Loki makes him seem less like a brother and more like an enemy since the beginning. We don't really know him, Clint. We don't know what Thor and Loki's relationship is like at all."

Clint sighs and rubs his face. This is a mess.

"When... When I was under Loki's control-- back in 2012-- he acted so weird." Clint admits, "There were times when he would leave and come back with a fresh set of orders. He seemed tired-- sick, almost. I didn't understand what was going on, but I have a theory like yours. Thor didn't know where Loki got the scepter and the Chitauri from, only saying that the last he saw Loki, he fell into the void. What if... What if Loki was being controlled too?"

Natasha frowns, "But--"

"I know it sounds wrong, but hear me out! His eyes are green-ish now, right? But they were blue during the invasion. And I was released from his control when you knocked me out. So when the Hulk slammed him into the ground..."

"The control on him was released," Natasha completes his sentence, putting a hand over her mouth, "Oh my god, it makes so much sense now."

"So--" Clint blinks, "I don't know what to do with this information."

"Maybe we should... give him a second chance. Bruce seems to have already done that, so maybe we can start making amends. Maybe, if we get to know him, he isn't such a bad guy."

Clint nods, "Yeah, yeah, that's a good idea. We should probably tell the others about this, too."

~~~

"That's a... a very interesting theory."

"Sure is," Tony says, "Horrifyingly so."

Tony's had to deal with people... influencing him. He hates the idea that the evil guy is not-evil-just-controlled. It's like--

"Is there any way we can verify it?" Steve asks. He holds up a hand when Clint opens his mouth, "I mean asking someone other than Loki. It's not that I don't trust him--"

"But we don't trust him."

"Tony."

"We don't," Tony repeats, "So we need to ask someone who knows what happened or who he's completely truthful with and he's talked about it with."

"Thor?"

"No, Steve," Natasha shakes her head, "We already know that Thor isn't close enough to Loki or really... perceptive of what happens around him."

"How about Bruce?" Tony asks, "He's been hanging around Loki a lot recently. Maniac is stealing my science bro."

"Yeah, you're right. They seem to be friends."

"Or Loki's manipulating him."

"He's not manipulating me."

Everyone's heads snap toward the doorway, where Bruce is standing with his arms crossed.

"You all are so quick to judge. Have any of you seen my sandals?"

"Brown duffel bag under your bed," Natasha says, "Where have you been?"

"I was invited to a council meeting. You're right, Tony. They suck."

Steve shakes his head, "We were discussing Loki--"

"Of course you were. Planning to stop him from taking over, right? Kick him off the throne?"

"No. We just came to a realization," Clint declares, "We think he might've been controlled during the Chitauri invasion."

Bruce blinks, eyebrows raised in surprise, "That wasn't obvious?"

"He told you?" Tony asks.

"No. It's a sensitive subject and it would be rude of me, as a guest, to put salt in his wounds. It was obvious from the start. I'm surprised at least Natasha didn't realize."

"How did you know?"

"Tony... Guys..." Bruce sighs and rubs his face, "I'm not that kind of doctor but I could plainly see that he was unwell during the invasion. He looked sick and exhausted. He was mean and cruel yet he seemed to regret everything he did. His eyes were the same color as Clint's at the time. It was obvious! And he's so different now. He's still stressed but that's because of his duties. He's polite even to the stupid nobles who want to spit in his face and he knows how to get what he wants without making a big mess of everything. The Loki in New York was not the Loki he was before or is now."

The room is silent for a moment.

"Wow," Tony says, "Maybe I should make friends with my old enemies. See if they've changed or been mind controlled too."

Natasha smacks him upside the head, "Stop it."

"Look," Bruce sighs, "if you guys are up for it, I can show you how different he is now. You'll see."