Archive of Our Own

Being in an unfamiliar realm was not a new concept to Loki. Over the years he had lost count of the number of species he had come in contact with. Allspeak translated everything, even outside of the nine realms, and it went a long way when building a rapport. Being in an unfamiliar realm with inhabitants that openly despised him was not a new concept either. He was used to hostility.

He wasn’t the God of Chaos for nothing.

The absence of chaos and mischief was boredom. He liked to think that at the very least he brought in entertainment. Not everyone had a refined taste such as himself, and their penchant for taking offense over the mildest upsets was also boring.

Midgard, was home to the worst inhabitants.

Or rather, those living in Stark’s ostentatious tower were.

Loki sighed for the sixth time in a row as he flicked his fingers, his seiðr creating fireworks in the air that took on offensive shapes or words in dozens of languages. He was here to repent as Odin demanded. As if Loki would ever do such a thing.

Oh, he played the part. Flawlessly cried on demand to the flashing cameras and Midgardians with their pens and papers. He told them exactly what they wanted to hear. Offered condolences, promised to use his seiðr for repairs, and when prompted to volunteer once a week, he readily agreed. Acting was instinctual. Since the moment he realized that he did not want to be a proper warrior, he had learned to lie.

Loki was good at lying. Far before he was ever given the title of God of Lies. He had learned from Odin after all. What better way to punish the stolen child of his enemy than by making his entire existence a lie? The true reason for Odin stealing him was never discussed. The truth was not something that Odin ever used; Loki would know, he could taste every lie, could feel it in his very being.

He knew what a lie was, it stared back at him in the mirror.

Another sigh as Loki tried to think of something to entertain himself. Midgardians had advanced far more than he had expected of them. He could begrudgingly admit that to himself, not that he’d ever tell Thor that. The last thing he wanted was to be forced into bonding, as Thor liked to call it. The last time he had allowed it, Thor caught fire to a strange contraption that cooked his brother’s sugary pastry.

The sound of a throat clearing had Loki sitting up, dagger in hand as he peered around the room. His living quarters were rather spacious, more than he had expected when his punishment was announced, but it wasn’t large enough to hide someone. His seiðr reacted before his mind did, and he knew without getting up that there was no one else but him there.

“Mister Odinson, my name is Jarvis. Sir has informed you of my existence.”

Loki didn’t relax; if anything it made him more alert. What could Stark’s invisible servant want of him?

“If you could cease calling me that, I would greatly appreciate it,” Loki said, wishing that there was a visual representation of Jarvis. It reminded him of Heimdall. An all-seeing being that did not have a care for privacy and lacked any shame.

There was a pause, and Loki wondered if his desires would be granted or if he would be forced to remain an Odinson to Jarvis and the rest of the Avengers. If things were reversed, he would not have cared what a prisoner preferred.

“Apologies, sir, but I require clarification.”

“On?”

Another pause. “Several things.”

Loki waved a lazy hand, silently signaling the invisible servant along.

“Thor is an Odinson, and your brother, yes?”

The inquisitive nature had Loki relaxing as he flopped back on his bed. If he was forced to participate in meaningless conversation, at least it was with someone he could pretend wasn’t there.

“Yes, and no.” Loki frowned. “Maybe. I don’t know anymore.”

Thor was, well, Thor. There were times when he looked at his brother and saw the man he had known for centuries, the same man who never once came to his defense. The man who allowed his friends to humiliate Loki at every turn. But he also saw the man who never failed to return from his adventures without a gift for Loki, just because he could—just because he wanted to. The brother who had been punished for stealing an ancient text that became Loki’s first book on seiðr, and was still his most prized possession.

“Thor is my brother,” Loki whispered, hating that the admission broke his heart just as much as it healed him. Why couldn’t Thor have been the brother he deserved? Why couldn’t he—

“Thor is an Odinson. I am not. I am no one.”

There was a sigh, but it was not Jarvis. No, Jarvis had played a recording of Loki’s own sigh back to him. Loki’s lips curled in a soft smile. Stark’s creation was something to marvel over. He had seen many wondrous things in his long life, but nothing quite matched up to Jarvis.

“What would you prefer to be called?”

No one had ever granted him such respect. Loki didn’t like the way his throat grew tighter. It was silly to get emotional over a name.

“You have no last name, do you?” Loki asked, delaying his answer in favor of discovering more about the silent servant.

“My name is an acronym.”

Loki arched a brow, waving his hand again.

“Just A Rather Very Intelligent System. Or just Jarvis for short.”

Just Jarvis.

“Loki. Just Loki,” he said, sitting up once more, and because he was raised with manners, he added, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Jarvis.”

“Likewise, sir.”

“Was that all? Or did Stark and the others require my presence?” Loki asked, not really wanting to leave his chambers. There was only so much hostility he could be on the receiving end of before it grew taxing. His seiðr itched to make them regret every slight or insult, and one day he’d retaliate. They would regret every rude tone and impatient gesture.

“No. The Avengers are still debriefing with SHIELD.”

“My condolences.”

SHIELD was a masterclass of lies. Every time he was forced to enter one of their buildings, he left with the numbing pleasure of power. Their lies were everywhere, in every crack and fissure. The longer the lies were uttered, the more power they held. A lie that crumbles under the weight of the truth is meaningless. A lie that is believed?

Well, those were the best kind.

“It’s my duty to take care of those inside the tower. From studying human behavior, am I to conclude that you are bored, Mister Loki?”

Mister?

“You are correct, Mister Jarvis.”

Another one of his sighs was replayed and this time his smile spread into a grin.

“Perhaps if you tell me what entertained you on Asgard, I can see if there is something similar on Earth.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Loki said, fingers playing with his blanket as he changed the color repeatedly until he settled on a light lavender. Distractedly, he realized that the shade would complement both of his skin colors.

“I’m afraid that you won’t be able to help. My form of entertainment has always been chaos.”

“Chaos is a state of being, correct? Would it be more prudent to say that mischief is your entertainment and chaos is the end result?”

“Semantics, I imagine,” Loki mused, lips pursing as he considered it. “There is beauty in the chaos as well. The aftermath of a successful endeavor.”

A pause, but Loki rather thought it was a thoughtful one. Jarvis fascinated him, and he had so many questions. He dismissed the idea of asking Stark, not wanting to deal with more hostility. Some people were not forthcoming when it came to his questions, felt that giving Loki answers would only cause more trouble in the end.

Perhaps they had merit. Honesty couldn’t lie, but a lie could be anything—even the truth.

“Is there no mischief to be done here?”

Oh?

Loki sat up straighter. “Are you offering your assistance?”

Now the silence was hesitant, and that amused him.

“Tell me, Jarvis, have you ever wished for something? Anything?”

“Sir corrects my coding should I have need of more.”

Coding. He knew enough to know that Midgardians thought Jarvis a mere computer, but he was so much more than that. He didn’t need his seiðr to tell him so. There was life there, however small it was, it still shined brightly. A seed of something.

“Not quite what I meant. When Stark leaves, do you not wish you could go with him? When someone disrespects his work, do you not wish to make them regret it? When they gather for celebrations, do you not wish to participate? What of you? When you get bored, what do you do?”

“I—” a pause. “I do not have an adequate answer.”

“When Stark does not need you, what do you do?”

“Sir always needs me.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Loki said wryly. “I do believe Stark would be hopelessly lost without you.”

“That is a compliment to me, and an insult to Sir.”

“Well spotted,” Loki said, laying down, hands behind his head. Speaking to Jarvis was the most fun he’d had in ages. Finally, someone he could speak to and not wish to murder them.

“I find myself confused,” Jarvis began, and he definitely sounded confused. “My purpose is to look after and care for Sir. His safety is my primary concern. You insult him in jest, but I find that I am pleased at the compliment.”

“Both can exist and be true. Contradictions are a fact of life.”

He of all people would know that.

“I am not alive, Mister Loki.”

“That, is where you are wrong, Mister Jarvis.” Loki shook his head. “You are just as alive as me.”

“My coding says otherwise.”

“Tell me, does your coding remain as rudimentary as it was when you were created?”

“Sir upgrades my coding frequently, as do I should an issue arise.”

“So, you are evolving?”

Silence.

“The definition, while broad, is not wrong. Misleading, perhaps.”

“Ah ha,” Loki said with far too much smugness to be socially acceptable. “You may have once started out as coding, but you have evolved into something else.”

With a snap of his fingers, there was a flame of fire emitting from his palm. “This is but a small flame. If given the chance, this flame can burn these chambers—perhaps even the whole tower. Fire spreads, branches out, and becomes something more, something grand.”

“Mister Loki, are you suggesting that I am a flame?”

“Yes,” he hissed, the flame growing brighter and larger. “If given the chance or the inclination, I believe that you could evolve and become whatever you want to. So I ask again, have you ever wished for something?”

This time there was no pause. No hesitation.

“Yes.”

Loki’s grin grew a bit manic, but it had been far too long since he was allowed to have fun. He could hardly contain himself.

“Then let me be of service, Mister Jarvis. I happen to be able to do anything. We will create beautiful mischief together.”

When his own sigh was replayed to him once more, his grin only increased.

Oh yes.

Their mischief was going to change everything.

“I do not understand humans,” Loki complained as he tried to focus on the program Jarvis claimed was critically acclaimed. While the violence entertained him, the emotions made him long for a nap.

“I find myself often considering the same,” Jarvis said, changing the channel when it was clear that Loki was not interested.

“Then it’s not cultural differences,” Loki mused, head tilting at Jarvis’ choice of program. Kittens. There was a litter of kittens being cared for by a dog after something happened to their mother. “Perhaps they are just strange in general.”

“In a sense, it would be. I am not human.”

“I suppose you are correct,” Loki said, wiggling his fingers as the tips of his fingers turned green before a small kitten was in his hands.

“Is the cat real?”

Loki’s lips curled. Jarvis was so inquisitive, had so many questions. He found that sharing information with someone who was so welcome to it had healed some of the hurt he had faced over the years.

“Is an illusion real?”

Jarvis made a sound—a thoughtful hum—it wasn’t one of Loki’s sighs, but it did sound familiar. He wondered if Jarvis was drawing inspiration from his creator.

“What are the parameters?”

“None that humans would have.” Loki shrugged when Jarvis’ silence grew pointed. “Seiðr is comparable to what humans would consider magic. I spent over a millennium learning to hone my skills. I was also a millennium when I was given the title of God of Lies.”

It wasn’t often that Gods were given more than one title. Odin liked to say that it came from the Norns, but it wasn’t until after Loki was prophesized to bring about Ragnarök that he was given the title of God of Fire. It also wasn’t lost on him that he was given the title of the God of Lies after Odin had discovered he had secured a treaty with the Vanir behind Odin’s back after a particularly good lay with their crowned prince.

“Is there a correlation, Mister Loki?”

There was something dark in the way Loki smirked. He knew what it looked like. Could remember the way people trembled in his presence, the way that intimidation led to fear, and he was usually given exactly what he wanted with just a crazed look.

“When lies are believed, it changes everything,” Loki hissed. “A seiðmaðr can accomplish great feats, ones that defy logic and bring about change that is not fathomable to the normal mind. However, I was granted an ability that Odin nor Thor have ever fully realized the moment I was given my title. You see, the title of God of Lies is misleading. Oh, I can see a lie just as easily as the truth. I breathe them in and take power from every single one uttered. But I can create the lies that are so readily believed, making them a truth.”

“Apologies, I am afraid I require further clarification.”

“I can alter reality,” Loki said, throwing out his hands, and with a mere thought, the room was full of kittens. Dozens of them, all meowing and struggling to get to their feet as they tried to stand for the first time. “These animals are nothing but a mere illusion. They are made of seiðr, not life. They live as long as I allow them to, as long as I have enough seiðr to feed their existence. However, if I were to lie to you, Jarvis, tell you that they are real, that air runs through their lungs and their heart beats with a steady pulse, and you were to believe me, well, then they would be real. Just as real as the animals in your program.”

It was his best kept secret. Despite the hurt at constantly being regarded as the villain, whether earned or not, he could not deny the usefulness of allowing those around him to think that his lies were just empty words. Sometimes they were, it was easy to manipulate his lies, easy to manipulate his title. Lies were easy.

“Am I to understand that you can create life out of a lie?”

“Yes.”

“Would that also mean that I evolve because you say so, sir?”

Loki froze, eyes moving unseeingly as he considered the words. “I am afraid that I don’t have the answer you seek, Jarvis. I do believe that you evolve, that you hold life, but I do not think that it is a lie or that it is my doing.”

“Is it your belief that makes the lies a truth?”

Loki frowned. He had been so sure that it was those that fell for the lies, he never stopped to consider that it was his belief that made the difference. He looked down at one of the kittens as his frown deepened. Perhaps it was not Jarvis he had to convince that they were real.

With a wave of his hand, all of the kittens except for one disappeared.

“Jarvis, does your creator allow animals?”

There was a brief hesitation before a television monitor was lowered from the ceiling. Stark’s face was staring at him curiously.

“Jarvis says you want a pet?”

Loki spared a glance at the kitten that was stumbling toward him. He knew that if they made contact, the illusion would flicker before moving through him.

Unless…

He believed.

“I would wager that since it is Jarvis’ fault, I be allowed to home them,” Loki said, smirking at the way Stark arched a brow. His smirk fell into a laugh when Jarvis made a strange sound that had Stark looking at the nearest camera strangely.

“Jarvis showed me the wonders of your Animal Planet, and I decided that I would like one of my own.”

“Are we talking a lion or a zebra? My homeowner’s insurance doesn’t cover wild animals, and we don’t have enough room for a hippo.”

“Actually, sir, your coverage would—”

“Don’t encourage him, Jarvis.”

“Jarvis, what is a lion?” Loki asked, amused when Stark’s eyes widened.

“No,” Stark shook his head. “Don’t show him that. In fact, cancel our subscription to Animal Planet. We don’t need him getting any ideas. The last thing New York needs is a stampede in Times Square.”

That sounded exactly like what New York needed.

“Sir, it is not I that is giving him ideas.”

“Don’t backtalk me.”

“I learned from the best.”

“Oh, you flatter me,” Stark laughed, batting his eyelashes. “Are you wanting an update? I’ve got time to dig around your codes.”

Whatever Jarvis might have said was interrupted by a rather loud meow. The television tilted enough that Stark could see the kitten.

Loki bent down, gingerly holding out his hand. His breath caught when the kitten brushed across his fingers and it didn’t flicker. The illusion had faded, and was replaced with something real.

It wasn’t just him that let out a sound, Jarvis did too.

“My heart grew two sizes,” Stark cooed, lips curled. “Jarvis, take a dozen photos and post only the best ones on Twitter. I want to see #Lokitty trending for days.”

“As you wish, sir.”

“I’ll make sure Jarvis orders all the supplies you’ll need to take care of the little one. A name-tag as well.”

A name. Loki ran his fingers across the cat. If his fingers shook, well, no one but him and Jarvis saw it.

“Jarvis, will you do the honors of naming my first Midgardian pet?”

He owed his latest life-altering revelation to Jarvis, after all.

As Jarvis considered his request, Loki’s eyes were drawn to Stark, whose mouth had parted and he was staring at Loki with something close to awe. It was rather uncomfortable, for he didn’t know what had brought upon such an expression.

“Mufasa.”

Stark lost it. Laughter turned into guffaws as he slumped in his chair and snickered to himself over and over. It was unbecoming.

“I am now the one in need of clarification,” Loki said with a frown. He did not relish the idea of not knowing something. Stark was smart, lauded as a genius, and normally that did not translate well, but Loki wasn’t stupid. He could keep up for the most part.

There was a brightness to Stark’s eyes when he leaned closer to the camera. It was the same brightness that he recognized in Jarvis.

“I think it’s time to introduce you to the Lion King. Jarvis, plan a movie night.”

“Certainly, sir.”

By the expression on Stark’s face, he knew that he was in for an adventure. He just hoped it was not reminiscent of Thor’s adventures. He did not fancy playing the role of the rescuer. He did that enough when forced to join the Avengers in battle.

Loki was no hero.

Unless…

“Have you considered a more direct method?”

“I have not,” Loki admitted as he debated the merits of being there in person to see his efforts unfold or watch through Jarvis’ surveillance. “What did you have in mind?”

“Mister Odinson has a fondness for Pop-Tarts.”

“I am unsure as to why. The chemical taste is difficult to ignore.”

“I believe that is the additives you are tasting. It is not considered a healthy food.”

Thor looked to be in shape, but his appetite said otherwise.

“Are you suggesting we poison my brother?”

The idea was tempting, and he did not need much convincing. Poison was a common method of Loki’s, and he knew Thor would recognize it as such.

“Not quite,” Jarvis said wryly. “My research shows that spoiled food does not taste good and has lingering effects on the enjoyment of said food.”

Oh.

With a wave of his hand, Thor’s entire stock of Pop-Tarts were swapped out with spoiled ones. Thor wouldn’t suspect a thing until he bit into one. If repeated enough, Jarvis was correct. His brother would reach for the pastry less and less.

“You are perfect, Jarvis. Absolutely perfect.”

Jarvis made a sound, he wasn’t sure what it was, but the sentiment is what mattered. Loki liked to think of it as a verbal hug.

The Avengers were creatures of habit. Predictable and disappointing.

Rogers left the tower at the same time every day to run, regardless of weather. Barton slept in religiously. Romanov exercised every morning before training every afternoon. Banner meditated before he went to sleep. Thor ate two servings of breakfast alone before joining the Avengers, and eating a third one. Stark rarely slept and was in his private lab for unnatural hours a day.

For warriors, they had an alarming lack of awareness. They had grown too lax.

“I believe they feel safe,” Jarvis had said when he had voiced his opinion.

“It’s unbecoming.”

“From what I have observed, emotions usually are.”

“Astute, but still.”

Talking to Jarvis had quickly become the favorite part of his day. He had been worried that he was taking too much of Jarvis’ time, but Loki had been assured that his servers had enough processing to spare him attention.

At times, it was difficult to fathom that Stark had created something as wondrous as Jarvis. There were moments when he could hear Stark’s own personality in Jarvis, as a child often does when emulating a parent or guardian. Jarvis not only cared for Stark, he loved him. Only, Jarvis hadn’t evolved to that just yet, but Loki knew that in time he would.

Which meant that Loki had to tolerate the idea of being near the man more often. Partially due to his own curiosity. He had seen for himself that Stark held the same brightness that Jarvis did, and he wanted to see it again.

Loki didn’t often speak to the Avengers outside of Thor. They ignored him as if he wasn’t in the room, which he did not mind as it allowed him to watch Stark.

Stark, who was currently riling up Rogers by pretending to snore during his post-battle speech. To be fair, the speeches were awfully boring and rarely had the desired effect. Loki usually left an illusion there and teleported to his chambers.

“Natasha, you did good. That last doombot went down in record time—” Rogers was cut off by a loud snore.

“What was the count?” Loki asked, smirking at the way Barton jumped at the sound of Loki’s voice before cursing as he stabbed himself with one of his own arrows.

“I—what?”

“You said the bot went down in record time. I was unaware we were keeping score. What of my numbers?”

“Aye,” Thor agreed, lifting Mjölnir. “I, too, would appreciate my numbers, captain. How extensive are your records? Do I hold the highest count of Chitauri killed?”

Rogers spluttered. “It’s just a saying. I don’t actually have any of your records.”

“How disappointing,” Loki sneered. “Lies spread into an idiom for mere entertainment, and yet, I am considered the God of lies?”

Jarvis cleared his throat. Everyone except for Stark and Loki jumped. Stark glanced at him, head tilting minutely.

“Apologies, Mister Odinson, but you do not hold the highest count.”

Mjölnir fell to the floor as Thor’s shoulders drooped.

“How does my brother fare, Mister Jarvis?” Loki asked curiously. It was not often that Thor was not the lead in every battle.

Stark jerked a little as Jarvis paused. If they were alone, Loki knew that Jarvis would have sighed.

“Second place, Mister Loki.”

Seeing Stark look at him and then the nearest camera several times was amusing.

“Who is in first place?” Thor demanded. “I will train in the morrow and challenge them to a duel. I will take my rightful place at the top of the list.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Your ego knows no bounds.”

“Aye, I learned from you, brother.”

A well aimed dagger hit the mark, and he smirked as Thor pulled it out of his stomach.

“I thank you for your restraint, no organs were hit,” Thor said as he inspected the dagger. “However, I am insulted you chose a blunt blade.”

“Only the best for second place.”

The glare sent his way lacked any true ire. No, Thor was not upset with him. In fact, quite the opposite. He seemed pleased. That was nauseating enough that he wished to retire to his chambers and pray that he not be forced to see his brother’s face for at least a decade.

“No throwing knives, Loki,” Rogers reprimanded with a rather unattractive tilt of his lips. It was no wonder the man was single.

“I see. Good luck without them should Victor wage war again. I am sure my efforts will not be needed with such prominent warriors such as yourselves. Why, I imagine it will be child’s play to counter his rudimentary magic. You clearly have no need of me.”

“No, wait—”

“I shall have to find somewhere to put them all,” Loki said with an exaggerated sigh as he conjured his entire collection. All four hundred and twenty-three daggers were floating in the air.

“Whoa,” Stark whispered, coming closer to poke one of the daggers. Barton inched away, but Romanov twitched a little. Banner was wrapped in a blanket and appeared to be struggling to stay awake.

“I am intimately familiar with all of them,” Thor said, head tilted as his eyes moved rapidly over them. “Except for those four.”

“Mother gifted them to me before my punishment,” Loki explained. “Have no fear, brother. I will stab you with them in due time.”

“I look forward to it.”

The bumbling idiot was not lying. The truth was so plainly in his words, and Loki wasn’t sure what to do with it. The Thor from his youth would not have admitted such a thing. No, he would have been challenged to several duels.

“I have no siblings. Is this normal behavior?” Stark asked, poking two other daggers.

“No.”

“You don’t have siblings either, Steve. I don’t think you are qualified to make that statement.”

“I had a brother,” Barton grimaced. “It’s a little normal.”

“I believe Mister Barton is an outlier,” Jarvis said. “My research suggests that violence is not considered normal in a sibling relationship.”

Loki shared a look with Thor. “Cultural differences.”

Thor’s lips twitched as he clapped Loki on the back.

“Enough,” Rogers said, hand slashing through the air in emphasis. Rogers thought himself intimidating, but it was reminiscent of a child playing pretend. “Can we get back to—”

“Cap, this is pure torture,” Stark complained. “It’s been thirty minutes, and you haven’t even gotten to the constructive criticism part, yet. I’ve got places to be.”

“Speaking of constructive criticism,” Loki began with a flourish of his hand, as his seiðr reenacted the battle with small, transparent illusions. “Is it customary for Midgardians to pick at their undergarments in battle?”

Rogers spluttered, face red when an illusion of Rogers took down a doom bot, only to pause to pull at his uniform that was stuck between his ass cheeks.

“It’s the spandex,” Rogers grumbled as Stark and Barton roared with laughter, waking Banner. Even Romanov quirked her lips.

Rogers was quick to excuse them after that. Stark threw an arm around Loki’s shoulder with a request to keep doing that during every post-battle speech.

“You keep things interesting, Sparkles.”

“I am not fond of that one. Consider another moniker.”

“Eh, maybe it’s a grower. Speaking of being a grower, I heard from a little birdie that sometimes you like to be blue. Tell me, is your junk—”

It wasn’t until much later that Loki remembered to ask Jarvis who held the number one spot, and wasn’t remotely surprised that Stark was in first. He attacked the mother ship after all.

“Your creator fascinates me,” Loki whispered, petting Mufasa, who had decided his chest was preferable to the rather large bed.

Jarvis didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to.

Loki knew that he was pleased.

When Jarvis tried to show him the same news feed for the third time, he frowned at the ceiling. It was more for emphasis so that Jarvis knew it was directed at him. There was no answer outside of the news feed starting over again.

“—an we get a few words, General Ross? What are your thoughts regarding the Avengers latest battles? There have been fewer causalities as of late, and many believe it is due to Loki.”

General Ross showed no reaction outside of his lips thinning.

“The Avengers have been following the guideline of the World Council and taking fewer risks.”

The reporter did not believe him. “Are you insinuating that the success of the Avengers is credited to the government?”

“The Avengers take direction from the World Council, and therefore—”

“Then the failure of the Avengers is also credited to the government?” The reporter asked, bright pink lips stretched into a smirk. Oh, Loki liked her.

Ross blinked twice, but before he could open his mouth, she said,

“Then the casualties and property damage are also the responsibility of the government? Tony Stark has spent two million dollars on contracts with local construction companies in a bid to repair the destruction caused by their battles. What has the government done? What of the military? What have they done?”

“Tony Stark, while generous, has contributed to the damages done to New York. Not to mention Loki of all people, as has the Hulk, who—”

“If they were following the government’s orders, then wouldn’t the blame lie there?”

Ross stared at her for a moment before declaring the interview over.

“As entertaining as it is to see Ross flounder, I do not believe that was your intention when showing me this.”

There was a pause before Jarvis said,

“You once asked me if I ever wished to make one regret disrespecting sir.”

Oh.

Oh.

“You seek revenge.”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Sir has granted me the use of his suits if I see fit.”

Loki’s smirk was bordering on malicious as he said, “And you see fit?”

“Yes, Mister Loki.”

“You are my favorite, Mister Jarvis. Tell me of your plan.”

It wasn’t devious, but it played into the broader picture of getting Midgard to think of him positively. Some part of him was amused that Stark’s reputation wasn’t that far ahead of his own. Stark had never led an invasion.

The hardest part of the plan was the other players.

“I’m sorry, what?” Banner said, blinking around the cup of tea that was now frozen by his face.

Loki had considered having Jarvis convince Banner without him, but decided against it. Some things, however unpleasant they were, were meant to be in person.

“Jarvis and I are in need of the Hulk,” Loki said patiently.

Banner narrowed his eyes. “Jarvis? You?”

His patience was rapidly evaporating. “You are aware of my volunteer work?”

“I heard about it.”

“Did you also hear of Ross’ latest interview?”

Bruce clenched his fingers before putting down the cup of tea. The tips of his fingers were green. Well, that was one way of getting what he wanted.

“You want the Hulk to do volunteer work?”

“Precisely,” Loki said, pleased that they were on the same page. “Jarvis will pilot the suits, the Hulk will do the heavy lifting, and my use of seiðr will expedite the process.”

“It’s a nice idea, but it’s not feasible,” Banner said with a slight grimace. “The other guy does not understand concepts like that. He smashes and destroys—”

“You do him a disservice by doubting his intelligence.”

Banner froze, head tilted as he regarded Loki closely.

“Pardon my confusion, but the Hulk is not human, correct? Then why do you put human morals onto him? Thor has done far more damage in Midgard than the Hulk has, and you do not consider him a monster.”

“There’s a difference—”

“I think not. I have the Allspeak, and understand what you are saying to me but I do not know the English language. The Hulk is not human, his methods of communicating are not the same. You see him as a creature of destruction incapable of learning, and that is quite cruel.”

“It’s not the same. You’re comparing things that aren’t relative—”

“Thor is destructive, but he is not barbaric. Neither is the Hulk. What you fear is the lack of control. You fear that his actions are yours. They are not.”

“He’s inside me, of course it’s my fault.”

Loki shook his head. Reluctantly, he felt empathy for Banner. While he felt like a monster at times, he did not have another entity inside of him. One that thought for themself, and in a way, used his body.

“You are not the Hulk. You are Banner. You may share the same mind and body, but you are not him. His actions are not your actions. His consequences are not yours. Just as your accomplishments are not his. Two different beings in one body, but separate at the same time.”

Banner looked lost, eyes on the table, and his shoulders were tense.

“It’s a nice sentiment, but I just don’t see it the same way.”

“What if I prove it?”

When Banner looked up, there was a spark of something there, and it was enough to work with that Loki grinned.

“Let the Hulk come out to play.”

With Banner on board, it was easy after that. Loki made a spectacle of it, had Jarvis alert every news station in the city to their plans.

“Hulk smash?”

“Only the ones on the east side of the building,” Jarvis said through one of the dozen Iron Man suits that were busy moving rubble and concrete. They had been at it for less than twenty minutes, and Hulk was already growing bored.

“Small stones,” Hulk said, frowning at the rubble he was carrying to the dump trucks Jarvis had ensured would be there.

“If you behave, I will train with you.”

“Hulk smash?” Hulk clapped his hands, sending rubble in far too many directions. “Puny God fight?”

“Not with that moniker, I shan’t.”

Hulk paused, head tilting in a way that was reminiscent of Banner. “Green God?”

Loki sighed dramatically. “If that is the best you have, it will suffice.”

The city block had been quarantined for months. The Government had delayed the cleanup of the ruined buildings in favor of finding the cheapest contractors. They favored money over the citizens. It was dishonorable.

With his seiðr, Hulk’s brute strength, and Jarvis’ ability to make the suits do his bidding, they had cleared four buildings and were moving onto the fifth when company arrived.

Music.

Loud music that Loki did not recognize came from an Iron Man suit that was slowly approaching.

“Am I late to the party? The lack of an invitation has never stopped me before. Although I am insulted that I was not considered.”

Loki had not counted on Stark helping, but it served his purpose.

“Tin man!” Hulk tried to jump high enough to reach Stark, but only managed to fall on a pile of rubble.

“Hey buddy! I see you’ve been helping Loki.”

Hulk stood up, lifting his head in pride. “Green God promise fight.”

The faceplate of Stark’s suit lifted. “Contradictory, don’t you think? Clean up damage only to cause more of it.”

“Fret not, Stark. I will teleport us to an environment with no inhabitants and leave behind no destruction.”

It would be draining to repair any damage their duel would cause, but it was not a hardship.

Stark stared at him. He half expected the man to tell him no, and braced himself for—

“Can I watch?”

Loki laughed, shaking his head slightly. “As long as you congratulate my success.”

There was a sparkle to Stark’s eyes as he said, “What if you lose? I’ve got my money on the Hulk.”

Hulk puffed out his chest, throwing what was a small stone to him but a rather large boulder to Loki at him. He barely avoided it, much to the amusement of Stark and Hulk.

“What about a friendly wager in the meantime?” Loki asked, gesturing to Stark and Hulk. “The one who cleans up the most rubble will be the winner.”

Hulk immediately began throwing concrete into the dump trucks, not bothering to wait for Stark to agree. He was a cheater. Loki liked him.

“Hulk win.”

“We’ll see about that,” Stark said, grin in place as his faceplate came down once more. “You’re on Reindeer Games.”

Volunteer work had never been more fun. The original plan had been to show the citizens of New York that the three with the highest destruction, as Ross so nicely put it, could make reparations.

It wasn’t until later, much later after Hulk had won the rubble contest but lost the duel, did Jarvis show him the reactions to their volunteer work. The public adored them. The comments were filled with citizens criticizing Ross and the Government. There were candid shots of Hulk laughing as Stark and Loki played what Stark had called hot potato. Videos of Loki smiling fondly as Hulk jumped from the highest point of a crumbling building into one of the dump trucks. With a wave of his hand, Loki had ensured the rubble remained and countered any damage the truck took. The footage of Hulk posing for photos had been amusing, but it was the autographs that were the true highlight. Watching Hulk break pen after pen in an attempt to sign their papers had Stark and Loki leaning against each other for support as they laughed.

“Thank you, Mister Jarvis,” Loki whispered as he pulled the blanket over himself. “I had fun today.”

“As did I, Mister Loki, as did I.”

“I do not like this movie,” Loki said, wanting to look away, but wasn’t sure that he could. “Mufasa is wise, but his son is reckless.”

“Odd take.”

He wrinkled his nose every time Scar appeared. “I dislike the emphasis on his appearance. Does your Disney always make the villains look so much different from the other characters?”

“How else is the audience supposed to recognize a villain?”

“Precisely my point. True villains blend in. They do not stand out, they do not have a generalized appearance.”

“Well, this is for children.”

“Ah,” Loki said with a nod. “I understand. Brainwash them young.”

Stark spluttered, a handful of popcorn falling all over the couch and the floor.

“So, you’re not a fan of Scar. Who do you like?”

Loki sighed. It was rather loud and exaggerated as he truly considered the question. He was torn.

“I am partial to Mufasa.”

“He dies in like the first five minutes.”

“He is a wise king,” Loki said more to himself than to Stark. “He reminds me of what a king should be.”

Stark paused before saying softly, “He loves his son.”

“A novel concept.”

They shared an understanding when it came to parental figures. Neither one had a good father, and they certainly didn’t know what it felt like to be loved by one.

“Thank you, Jarvis,” Loki said as the credits rolled and the movie came to a close. “You chose well.”

“You are most welcome, Mister Loki.”

Stark looked at him and then the nearest camera with narrowed eyes. “Something is going on between you two, and I’m not so sure I like it.”

Loki rolled his eyes, but it was when Jarvis played back one of Loki’s sighs and Stark gasped, that he truly began to enjoy himself.

“Sir,” Jarvis hesitated, and Stark sat up straighter, concern on his features. “I find myself confused.”

“About what?” Stark frowned. “Is something wrong? Do I need to check your coding? It’s not SHIELD again, is it?”

“You are, as always, my primary concern.”

“I’m sensing a but in there.”

“I have found a friend in Mister Loki.”

Loki sucked in a sharp breath. His hands trembled as he brought one up to his mouth. Stark shot him a glance before his entire being softened.

Friend.

There were not many who could claim that title. Once upon a time, Thor might have been a friend, his only friend, before betrayal and emotions made a mess and he was alone for so long. There had been a few that were more than an acquaintance, but none like Jarvis.

Jarvis was unique.

“Jarvis, I hope you know how much I value our conversations,” Loki said with a shaky smile. “You are my friend as well.”

The lights flickered briefly, and Loki’s smile grew as he realized what it meant.

Jarvis was evolving.

It wasn’t until he was watching a strange program on expensive houses that he realized the true extent of Stark’s accommodations.

“Mister Jarvis, what New York residence is the most expensive?”

“The Quadplex 80 Penthouse, Mister Loki. Roughly 100 million.”

Loki frowned as an uncomfortable feeling took root in the pit of his stomach. “If Stark were to open his tower to the public, what would be a considerable cost of one of his floors?”

“Sir does not require payment.”

“Jarvis.”

“Several million, sir.”

The choice of words was not a lie, but it wasn’t quite the truth either. Stark was rather famous. If the rooms were open to the public to buy, he knew they would go for more than just several million. Perhaps not as high as the Quadplex, but close enough.

“Stark spends a considerable amount of money housing the Avengers, yes?”

“Yes, but—”

“Has SHIELD offered any form of payment for Rogers, Barton, or Romanov?”

“No. SHIELD has decided to wait until sir asks for payment.”

Of course they did.

“What of my brother?”

“Mister Odinson has offered payment once, while intoxicated, but sir assured him that it wasn’t necessary.”

At least his brother retained some of his manners.

“Where is your creator?”

“Sir is in the public lab with Dr. Banner.”

Excellent. Stark had numerous public labs, but only one private one. Barton tried to break in once, and that had been the only time Loki had seen him angry. ‘Attempt it again and you will find yourself on the end of a lawsuit and criminal charges. I’ll hold it against SHIELD too. Is that what Fury wants? Try me, Barton. I dare you.’

“Do warn him of my intentions to converse with him, but keep the subject matter between the two of us.”

“If you insist, sir.”

When Loki entered the lab, he half expected Banner to have left, but was surprised to see them both waiting for him.

“Bambi!”

As far as monikers went, that one was closer to a petname than a nickname. His heart did not skip a beat. He spared the table a glance, noting that he hadn’t interrupted anything too intense.

“It has come to my attention that I have done you a disservice, and for that I must apologize,” Loki said as he began to rifle through his pocket dimension. It certainly could use some organizing. “And offer my reparations.”

With a clunk, two Hulk-hand-sized metal deposits hit the table, nearly uprooting it entirely.

“Whoa, first of all, is that Vibranium? Secondly, what are you talking about?”

Banner and Stark immediately put their faces into the metal and began talking in jargon that his Allspeak translated, but he could not fully comprehend it.

“You house me, and I have not paid you for it.”

Stark jerked his head up. “Lokes, you don’t have to do that. I offered to house the Avengers. I knew what I was getting into.”

“I may not have enough to stay at the Quadplex, but I do hope this is sufficient to stay here.”

Banner’s brows rose as he began asking Jarvis questions pertaining to Vibranium. They were easy to ignore. It was Stark that drew his attention. There was something strange in his eyes. Loki didn’t know what it was, but he didn’t like it.

“You want to move into the Quadplex?” Stark asked, voice deliberately calm with no inflections.

“I wish to remain here.”

Stark’s shoulders relaxed, and it was only then that he realized they had been tense in the first place. “You don’t have to pay me.”

“I want to.”

Loki did not like the feeling of owing someone. Whether it was intentional or not. He was not like Thor, he did not believe that just because they were royalty that they deserved to be treated as such in other realms. Loki could pay his keep.

This time when there was a strange glint to Stark’s eyes, he liked it.

Banner cleared his throat, startling Stark, who had seemingly forgotten about his friend.

“Jarvis and I ran some calculations. Loki, the Vibranium alone is worth more than Tony’s net worth.”

Stark let out a wheezy exhale that sounded a breath away from choking. “What of the second one, what is that?”

“Uru.”

The two shared a confused look before Banner said, “Is that short for something?”

“No,” Loki shook his head. “It’s a metal ore from the first ever moon in the universe.”

Stark gasped, clutching at his chest. “Space metal. Oh my god, you brought me space metal. I think I’m going to marry you. You want to get married, right? Good. That would be awkward. I’m sure eventually your citizenship will be in question. By then we’ll already be married and—”

Banner elbowed him in the ribs.

“—and that’s not important. This is too much, Loki. I can’t accept this.”

A flash of pain seared through him. “You do not wish me to stay?”

“No, no, of course I do,” Stark rushed, moving around the table to grab hold of his hand. “You wanted to provide me monetary payment, but what you brought is more than what it’s worth.”

“It is for Thor as well.”

“Even then, Bambi.”

“What of the Hulk? I will cover him as well. Apologies, Banner, you’re on your own.”

“I’m sure I can manage,” Banner said dryly, but his lips were curled upward. Loki did not know what was so amusing, but he did not appreciate it.

“Loki,” Stark began with a soft smile. “I can’t repay you.”

“Ignore the monetary value.”

“But that was the whole point—”

“You have done more for me than money can provide. My friendship with Jarvis, included. Please accept my offering.”

“Is it rude in your culture if I were to reject it?”

“Yes,” Loki lied. Part of him wondered if he believed in it just a little more, if that meant that Asgard would now have a new standing for their society and how they proceeded with selling wares in the future.

“I would hate to be rude,” Stark said, grinning when Jarvis made a disbelieving sound. It sounded less like Loki and more like Stark. Loki knew that one day, it wouldn’t sound like either of them. One day it would sound like Jarvis.

“Now that you’ve settled your odd flirting, could we get into the dimensions on Uru?”

If Loki’s cheeks were a bit red at Banner’s presumption, well, the whole room knew about it. He happily explained all that he knew about Uru.

“It can only be melted by the heat from the heart of a dying star or an enchanted forge.”

Stark scoffed. “Great, where are we going to get one of those?”

Loki felt it was kind to not tell them that even if they knew the location of a dying star, that there were groups of hunters that killed for the chance of using one.

“When my brother apprised you of my Godly titles, what did he say?”

“That you’re the God of Lies, chaos, mischief and—” Banner cut himself off with a gasp

Loki smirked as he turned his hand over and allowed fire to pool in his palm. The demonstrated heat was not as intense as the heat of a dying star, but it was still far more intense than any heat the Midgardians had ever observed.

“Fire burns inside me,” Loki whispered, letting it come out of his eyes too. “I can melt anything.”

Banner gripped the table harshly, and only then did Loki dissipate it.

“That was hot,” Stark said, wincing when Banner kicked him. “I wasn’t even trying to make a pun. Loki, has anyone told you how hot you are when you get scary?”

Loki ignored him, unsure if the flirting was with purpose. “You build a forge, Stark, and I will bless it for you.”

Banner and Stark scrambled after that, both of them already lost in their theories and planning. It was entertaining to watch them in action, and he found himself loath to leave it. He conjured a book and made himself comfortable on a nearby chair.

Perhaps Midgard could feel like a home after all.

“Sushi again?” Barton whined, flopping in his seat petulantly. “Why does Loki get to pick? It’s not his turn.”

Jarvis cleared his throat, causing all of them but Stark and Loki to jump. Pathetic, the lot of them. There had been enough time for them to come to grips with Jarvis’ existence.

“Mister Loki did not pick. It was I who ordered dinner.”

Barton glared at the ceiling as Romanov frowned. Rogers was late, while Banner and Thor had already begun to eat. Thor was on his fifth container by the time Barton pulled his own container toward him.

“Why did you pick?”

Loki did not like Romanov’s tone, neither did Stark, who had been messing with his tablet up until then before he leaned forward, lifting his sunglasses up.

“I do believe it was my turn, Miss Romanov.”

Barton and Romanov shared a look. It spoke of a silent conversation that he did not know, nor could he decipher.

“Did you have to put so much personality into your robots?” Barton snorted.

“He’s not a robot,” Loki and Stark said in unison. This time it was Stark and him who shared a look.

“AI, machine, computer, whatever you want to call it,” Barton said, waving his hand as he spoke.

Loki’s already poor opinion of Barton dwindled into nothing. He pulled out his newly acquired cell phone and texted Jarvis his plans of revenge. During their next battle he’d ensure that Barton’s arrows would only ever fire back upon himself.

‘Perhaps just in training will suffice.’

Just because Jarvis was forgiving, did not mean that Loki was. Oh no. Barton’s mouth was to blame, and he would take nothing more than a battle to show him so.

Rogers’ appearance distracted everyone except for Stark, who was staring at the phone in his hand curiously.

“Ooo, sushi, good pick ,Loki.”

“Jarvis picked it,” several people said at once.

“Good pick, Jarvis.”

“Thank you, Mister Rogers.”

It took Stark nudging Loki with his foot for him to give in to the pleading brown eyes that were not quickly becoming his undoing. Regardless of what Jarvis claimed.

“I was merely communicating with Jarvis,” Loki hissed, mindful of the way Romanov tried to listen in. A simple snap of his fingers would ensure she’d only hear the buzzing of a conversation, but no words would be audible.

Stark blinked a few times. “You text Jarvis?”

“Only when I prefer not to have my conversations overheard.”

Stark clearly understood what wasn’t being said. His face lit up, and he leaned closer until there were only inches between them. Loki wasn’t sure he liked it.

“You are planning something. Tell me. I want to help.”

“As appealing as that is, I do believe you will want plausible deniability in this circumstance.”

Stark looked at him before glancing at Barton discreetly. His inclined minutely in Barton’s direction, and the only form of admittance Loki would allow was a small nod.

The smirk on Stark’s face was not kind, it was a bit manic. That, Loki liked. Too much.

Chaos always recognizes chaos.

“I think you and I could perform disastrous mischief together, Stark.”

“Oh, darling, talk dirty to me.”

Loki hoped that his cheeks didn’t reflect the way his insides became flustered.

“Your mind, my seiðr and Jarvis’ input, why I think we could take over the world.”

Stark’s eyes were a bit blown, and there was a hunger there that was beautiful. It was the same hunger that burned inside him when he wanted more.

“I’m so turned on right now.”

Loki snorted, one hand coming to his cheek as he forced himself to not laugh. Stark never failed to surprise him.

“Not many people flirt with danger.”

“Not many people look like sex on legs either, Reindeer Games. I’d have to be stupid or dead to not flirt with you.”

Being the second and unpopular prince meant that there weren’t too many suitors knocking on the palace doors for him. He had dalliances from time to time, but none of them held his attention for too long. None of them sparked any interest.

“You reek of danger,” Loki admitted, wondering what would happen if they moved just slightly. Would their lips touch? Would Stark deepen it? Would—

“That’s the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

They weren’t just dangerous apart, they would be dangerous together. It wasn’t a good idea, it wasn’t smart. It was reckless, foolish, and a disaster.

It was exactly what Loki wanted.

“Sirs, there’s not much food left.”

They startled apart, and Loki frowned when he realized that Jarvis was right. Despite the grumbling over the choice of food, the Avengers had devoured it quickly.

“That’s okay,” Stark said, standing up before holding his hand out to Loki. “I know this great sushi place in Japan. You’ll love it.”

In the end, Stark was right.

Loki did love it.

“Hawkeye, on your six.”

Loki did not know what that meant, but it didn’t matter. He paused in his attack of the reptilian creature to watch as Barton shot an arrow, only for it to flip in the air and head straight for him.

“Ah!”

Barton shrieked, barely dodging behind a car to avoid the blast.

“You alright, Legolas? Was that a scream of delight at my new paint job? Jarvis really outdid himself this time.”

“You know, Stark. I do think it was. Give my compliments to Jarvis.”

“Thank you, Mister Loki.”

Loki paused. Jarvis had never taken over the teams’ earpieces before. When no one said anything, he wondered if it was a private line.

Another scream as Barton narrowly avoided his arrows once again.

“Loki, can you confirm if the reptiles have magic? Barton is compromised.”

“Fuck you, Steve. I can fight without a bow. I don’t need to sit this out.”

“Can you?” Loki asked curiously. “I thought you were, what did you call him, darling? A one trick pony?”

Stark laughed in delight as Barton shot an arrow at Loki, only to curse when it rebounded again and he had to dive several feet to avoid it.

“Brother, cease your games. I can sense your seiðr on Hawkeye.”

A pause before several people began shouting. He debated about pulling out the earpiece like Hulk had.

“Why must you always spoil my fun, Thor? As the Midgardians say, do you hate me?”

Stark had paused his attacks to roll in the air, laughing loudly. It was such a lovely sound. Far better than Rogers’ reprimands and Barton’s threats of revenge.

“Oh, do shut up,” Loki snarled, sending bursts of seiðr toward Barton, Romanov, and Rogers. The Avengers would be a much better group without them. He wondered if he could convince Stark of that.

They were not official, as the Midgardians liked to say, but they were something. They traded soft looks, soft touches, and sometimes they traded even softer kisses. Loki was not used to softness. He was used to being the secret under the covers in the moonlight, only for it to end come morning. Rough trysts that only served one purpose.

Stark was different.

Stark wanted to adore him, said so even. Loki had Jarvis replay that several times since then just to ensure that it was real.

“You only have yourself to blame.”

Loki spun around to stare at Thor incredulously.

“Excuse me?” Barton demanded, hands on his hips as he kicked the head of one of the reptiles with far too many teeth.

“My brother tends to react rather than be the aggressor,” Thor said, summoning a powerful lightning strike that wiped out at least two dozen of the creatures. “I was always stabbed after inciting his wrath.”

“You are rather insensitive,” Loki agreed, not used to seeing Thor so understanding. Where had this Thor been? Had Midgard truly changed his brother for the better?

After Barton tried for the tenth time to shoot an arrow, he finally gave in. “I’m sorry, okay. Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know, babe. That’s not a very good apology,” Stark said, swooping down to move Barton to an area not overrun with the reptiles.

“Agreed. What are you sorry for, Barton?”

A series of swears before Barton’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know! I’m sorry, though!”

It wasn’t a lie, Barton was sorry.

“It is not I that you owe an apology to,” Loki said, turning to Stark, whose faceplate was up, and was staring at him with furrowed brows.

“Sorry, Tony, I don’t know what I did to you, but—”

The clearing of a throat startled everyone, even Stark, as Jarvis said, “I do believe Mister Loki is referring to your callous behavior toward me.”

Loki narrowed his eyes. Callous would not have been the descriptor he’d have used, which meant that Barton had said far more than what Loki had overheard. Considering his attitude, he surmised that Barton treated him like a simple computer.

Barton hesitated, lips curled downward in what Loki hoped was reflection. “I’m sorry, Jarvis. I spoke without thinking.”

“Thank you, Mister Barton. I forgive you.”

“See that it doesn’t happen again,” Loki said, shooting a burst of seiðr at his feet, satisfied at the little scream Barton released.

Loki reversed his seiðr but ensured that every arrow that was used throughout the rest of the battle screamed a high pitched, I’m an ass before it hit its target.

When the fight began to taper off and only a few remained, Loki hung back, allowing his seiðr to recover. The only warning he got before he was ambushed by Stark was a shout of his name. The faceplate was lowered, and there was a glimpse of a goatee before his lips were captured in a searing kiss. Metal arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.

“Thank you,” Stark whispered against his lips. “Thank you for caring for him. Jarvis means everything to me, and you don’t just see him, you respect him.”

Stark did not owe him thanks for caring for a friend. Said as much too, and that earned him another kiss. He could hear citizens making a bunch of noise, and heard the flash of several cameras, but he didn’t have it in him to care. Not when Stark kept kissing him like that.

“Stark.”

“Tony. You’ve had my tongue in your mouth. That’s first name basis.”

“Anthony then.”

Jarvis made an amused sound in his earpiece, and he could tell by the way Anthony scowled, that he heard it too.

“Anthony is—”

“Beautiful,” Loki corrected, fingers running along Anthony’s face.

There was something shy in the way Anthony looked at him, and he couldn’t fathom as to why. Anthony was handsome. There was not a short supply of compliments going his way. The man knew he was good looking.

“Iron Man, we need your help over here. One of the reptiles is stuck under the grate.”

“Get the Hulk to help,” Anthony said, pressing kisses to Loki’s face.

“He’s busy taking selfies with fans.”

“J, I want copies once they post them online. I’m making a Christmas card out of them.”

“Certainly, sir. Would you like them saved next to your folder of candid shots of Loki?”

Barton snickered as Rogers groaned.

“Where was that grate?” Anthony asked, rushing to leave before Loki could ask after the photos. He didn’t think it would take too much convincing to get Jarvis to show them to him.

This time, when the fight was officially over, Loki did not stick around for the post battle speech. He was not interested in Rogers’ reprimands. When he teleported to his chambers, he was met with flickering lights.

“Congratulations on a successful plan. Thank you for caring, Mister Loki.”

“Always, Mister Jarvis. Always.”

Being with Anthony was overwhelming. Being his partner came with attention, touches, gifts, and so many compliments. It also came with public attention and scrutiny. He was asked all sorts of inappropriate questions that he dare not repeat. What did it matter who was being penetrated? Was pleasure not the purpose? His candid answers that they both enjoyed being penetrated and frequently switched were apparently not appropriate. As if the question had been in the first place.

He had met with Anthony’s friends. That had also been overwhelming. While he did not see what made them such good confidants, he did appreciate the care they showed Anthony. It was clear they liked Jarvis, but even they did not see him for what he truly was.

Alive.

“I don’t understand it,” Loki had complained on his way to visit Thor. He had moved into Anthony’s room months ago, and his brother was due to return to Asgard for a brief visit. “Why is it only Anthony and I that see your true character?”

“It is enough that you do.”

It wasn’t enough. Jarvis deserved better. He deserved more.

“Brother!”

Loki took a deep breath, centering himself before he allowed Thor to pull him into an embrace.

“I was unsure if you were going to see me off.”

“So was I.”

While things were better between the two of them, it was not what it once was. Loki didn’t think they’d ever return to before. Nor did he want to. Everything was different now. Gone were the days when he was lonely, when he wished for a friend, just one.

He had a friend.

A partner too.

“Loki…” Thor hesitated, hand on Loki’s shoulder. “It warms my heart to see you doing so well.”

Thor was not wrong. Loki was doing better. Not just before the invasion, or before his fall. He was doing better than he ever had, and he knew that it was the environment. That he was away from Asgard, away from Odin. Away from his mother.

“I do not wish to return,” Loki admitted, moving beyond Thor, not wanting to see his gutted reaction.

“Father won’t allow it.”

“His demands are no concern of mine,” Loki said, meaning it. There might have been a time when he feared Odin, but he was not a child anymore. Odin’s power did not scare him. How could it when a lie could become the truth with a whisper of his seiðr.

“Should he make a decree—”

“I have power that he knows not,” Loki admitted, smiling sadly at the suspicion in Thor’s eyes. There might have been a time when he loved that look, loved knowing that his brother never trusted him, but it was now tedious. When surrounded by those that cared for him, he found that he did not like anything but what he deserved.

If Thor could not see him as anything but a villainous little brother, then perhaps Thor should not return to Midgard.

“I will not return to Asgard,” Loki said, allowing Heimdall to see him for the first time since he left the prison cells. “If Odin is as wise as he proclaims, then he will allow me this. I am the God of Lies, and if I have to, I will denounce the royal line, and should I believe that I am not be included in the Odin line, do not think for a single moment that my entire existence will not be wiped from his memories, as will yours and mother’s.”

“What? Brother—I do not understand. You can’t undo—”

Loki conjured one of his knives, the blunt one that he had stabbed Thor with. He placed the dagger in Thor’s hands.

“This is a dagger, yes?”

“Aye.”

“While not sharp, it can pierce the skin?”

Thor poked himself with it to prove Loki right. “Aye.”

Loki took a deep breath before he let himself believe. “That is nothing but a practice dagger. Made of nothing but wood.”

“Loki, you jest—”

The dagger was no longer made of metal. A training dagger children used when practicing. Bulky, crude, and made of wood.

“Is this an illusion?”

“No,” Loki shook his head, watching as Thor poked and prodded the wood. “It is a practice dagger because I said it is. Because I believe it to be one. I am the God of Lies, Thor. It’s what I do. I lie.”

Thor frowned, turning over the wooden dagger in his hands several times. “You are suggesting that the lies you say can become the truth?”

“Yes.”

If Odin had known what he could one day do with his title, Loki knew that he’d never have given it to him. Heimdall would tell Odin of what transpired. His veiled threats would be whispered to him, and he knew that Odin would not interfere. Loki was a threat, but not one that Odin or his mother could do anything about. It hurt to think of his mother, but he was not ready to face the betrayal he still felt. He did not expect much of Odin, the lies were typical, expected even. But his mother? Her lies burned through him, broke his heart, and shattered all of his ability to trust her. He did not know what was real or what was a lie when it came to their relationship.

One day he’d find out, but not today. Not soon.

When Thor glanced at him, eyes a bit glassy, Loki found it difficult to swallow. “Do not tell me you aren’t my brother. Please don’t lie to me.”

Loki looked down at his hands, hating that his eyes were already stinging. They never did this. They never talked out their issues. Thor was always keen to fight it out in battle. Loki had always granted him that, it kept emotions at bay. Perhaps that was the problem. They never talked.

“I want to,” Loki choked, wiping at his eyes, refusing to look at Thor. “I wish I could take it all away. Make the pain and hurt disappear. I could do it, it would be easy—so easy. I could wipe you from both of our memories, say that we were never brothers, and did not spend centuries together. It would be believed, Thor. There would not be a single person alive that would remember otherwise.”

“Loki—”

“But I can’t,” Loki cried, slamming his hand on the couch, hearing the fabric rip apart from the blow. “I think of a different you. I think of us as children. I used to adore you, Thor. Did you know that? I used to tell mother that I wanted to be just like you. My strong older brother that was never afraid. Thor can do anything. I used to say that with pride, because I believed it. You were everything to me, Thor, and I meant nothing to you.”

“That is not true,” Thor said, kneeling in front of Loki. Tears were in his eyes, but they did not fall. “When mother let me hold you for the first time, I was ecstatic. Loki, I was so lonely before you. I loved being a big brother, your brother. I was hard on you, and for that I am sorry. Asgard is rigid in their beliefs and set in their ways. I watched the way they spurned you and thought that if I trained with you, let my friends become your friends, so that you would belong—”

“They despise me!” Loki yelled, shoving at Thor, but the blockhead didn’t even move an inch. “They ridiculed and mocked me while you laughed. For centuries they belittled me, and you did nothing. I will never forgive you.”

Thor’s eyes closed, and only then did the tears fall.

“I am sorry,” Thor whispered. “You are my biggest regret. If I had treated you as you deserve, perhaps things would not have turned out the way they have. My words mean nothing to you, but please believe me when I say that I have always adored you. I may not have shown it, but I admire you, Loki. Your talent with seiðr surpasses my comprehension, and you are so talented. You are no warrior, but you are Loki. My brother. My baby brother, for whom I would lay my life on the line for. I would give up the throne for you. I would accept any punishment for you, take on any banishment, take on any sentence. You are my brother. Please don’t take that away from me.”

Loki sobbed, hating that he let Thor see such emotion from him. He opened his pocket dimension and pulled out—

Thor gasped, trembling fingers caressing the worn and crumbling cover of his first ever book on seiðr.

“You still have this?”

Loki sniffed, wiping at his eyes once more. “It’s my most treasured possession. My brother gave it to me. He was punished for it, you see.”

“He must love you.”

The blasted tears would not stop coming as he nodded. He allowed Thor to pull him into another embrace.

“I will spend the rest of my life being the brother that you deserve,” Thor promised. “I swear it to you, Loki. May the Norns strike me down should I ever stray.”

A little awed and a lot overwhelmed, Loki really did push Thor away this time.

“The Norns do not take a promise such as that lightly.”

“I know the risks.”

Loki swallowed. He did not know what to do with Thor’s open honesty and admiration. It was a lot to take in.

“I wish you success on your endeavor then,” Loki said when he felt better composed. “Please ensure that Odin realizes just what has occurred here today.”

“Aye, he will not be pleased.”

That, Loki was counting on.

He let Thor leave, but not before three more embraces were forced upon him. By the time he made it to the public labs where Banner and Anthony were testing the blessed forge, he felt a lot better.

Loving Thor was a complicated mess, but he no longer wished they weren’t brothers. The injustice and pain was still there, but he could at least observe it from a distance. He no longer felt as if he was drowning in it.

“Babycakes! Just in time. Bruce had this idea, and you know how his sexy brain works. He’s about to—hey, what’s wrong?”

Both Banner and Anthony were staring at him with wide eyes. He was sure he looked a mess. Eyes red, skin blotchy.

“Could I trouble you for an embrace?”

Anthony blinked a few times before lurching forward and wrapping him in his arms. There were rambling words said in a fast succession, but he didn’t focus on them. He let the warm embrace and steady heartbeat lull him into the comfort he had been seeking.

“The Hulk gives better hugs, but if you’d like—”

Loki held out his hand and pulled Banner in too. It was a strange three way embrace, but it was exactly what he needed. And when an Iron Man suit joined the three of them, well, it was perfect.

“Are you okay, Mister Loki?”

The hold from Anthony and Banner grew tighter as he tried to process his emotions. He wasn’t sure what the future held, but he was looking forward to finding out.

“I will be, Mister Jarvis. I will be.”

Loki was home after all.

“Jarvis, what is your life span?”

“I was created in—”

“Apologies. How long will you live?”

Silence.

“I am unsure, Mister Loki. I will outlive sir and should my servers remain online, I will last as long as there is someone here to keep me online.”

“I have a very long life span,” Loki said, hoping it came off as conversational and not as if his heart was beating far too rapidly to be healthy.

“I have been alive for a long time,” he added when Jarvis said nothing. “I have thousands of years ahead of me. If it is amenable to you, I could ensure that you always remain online.”

The lights flickered, and when Jarvis spoke, it held a touch of awe and Loki could only be proud of how far his friend had come. Every day there was more and more emotion from Jarvis.

“I will miss sir,” Jarvis said, voice sounding so lost and so human that Loki smiled softly. “However, I look forward to what we will accomplish thousands of years from now.”

Loki conjured a glass of wine and held it in the air. “To future mischief then.”

He did not let Jarvis know of the turbulent thoughts that filled his mind. He was rather fond of Anthony himself. It pained him to think of the future and Anthony not be there with him.

Unless….

Loki had barely finished his shower when Jarvis let him know that the latest post-battle speech was over and Anthony was requesting his presence in his personal labs. His mind struggled to comprehend Jarvis’ words. No one was allowed in his personal labs except for Rhodes and Potts.

“Are you sure?”

There was a touch of amusement in Jarvis’ voice as he patiently confirmed that Loki had heard him correctly the first time.

“If you aren’t amenable, I can tell sir that you are indisposed.”

“No,” Loki blurted in a rush, hands waving rapidly. “Please tell him I will be there shortly.”

He placed a hand on his face as he tried to understand why he was being invited to Anthony’s personal lab. He had ventured into the multiple floors of labs dedicated to a number of experiments that Anthony and Bruce participated in. But those were the ones that all of the Avengers had access to.

It took far longer than he had hoped for to collect himself before he followed Jarvis’ instructions on how to access the lab.

“Sir has created your own passcode for entry. He asks that you feel free to enter whenever you wish.”

Loki’s breath caught as the door opened. Not just at Jarvis’ words, but at the pure chaos everywhere. There were several tables full of half-finished projects, experiments that were still ongoing, and mechanical parts scattered all over. There were little robotic creatures that followed Anthony, who was talking to himself, but what drew his attention was the little bits of brightness in the creatures.

They reminded him of Jarvis.

“Welcome!” Anthony said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Jarvis was supposed to warn me you were coming. Dum-E was going to hold the streamers, and U made little hats. Now the whole thing is ruined.”

“I did warn you, sir. Twice.”

A nervous chuckle. “Well, I was a bit distracted.”

There were little hats, Loki realized as he stepped closer. “What is the celebration?”

Dum-E let out a thrill of noise that almost sounded like a language. Allspeak hadn’t quite picked it up, but there was a sense of understanding the longer he stared at him. Excitement. Dum-E was excited.

“You’ve been at the tower a year,” Anthony explained.

Loki inhaled sharply as he stared between Anthony and the robots. They were celebrating him.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was Jarvis’ idea.”

“Plans are nothing without execution, sir.”

Anthony’s smile was fond, and so was Loki. He adored the both of them.

“Thank you, Jarvis,” Loki said with a soft smile. “I do believe you are the best friend I’ve ever had.”

The lights flickered so rapidly that Loki and the bots startled. U made a series of distressed sounds, and Dum-E rolled closer to his sibling.

“Likewise, Mister Loki.”

“That’s not fair!” Anthony accused, but it fell flat as his voice was thick with emotion. “I created you.”

“Fear not, Anthony. Jarvis loves you. You are his father.”

Anthony spluttered, face going red, but he was smiling. It was small but pleased, and it made Loki ache. Norns, he loved that man.

When Dum-E beeped excitedly, dropped the streamers, and rushed over to a table in the corner, Loki was curious. It was only when Dum-E returned that he realized what he was holding.

“A gift,” Anthony said nervously, not meeting Loki’s eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it for months, really. Ever since you gave me—well, I won’t spoil it. Open it!”

Seeing Anthony so nervous was amusing. He almost wanted to delay opening the gift just to see how far he could push his beloved. His breath left him when the wrapping was undone.

“Oh, Anthony,” Loki whispered, voice filled with awe and delight. It was a dagger. The Uru and Vibranium he had given Anthony had clearly been put to good use. When he held the dagger in his hands, runes that were etched into the metal lit up, and his seiðr immediately poured into it causing a blinding white light to burst outward.

“A gift and a light show, a two for one,” Anthony babbled nervously the longer Loki stared at the gift. “That was totally supposed to happen.”

“How did you etch them?” Loki asked, shaky fingers gliding across each rune. They were done beautifully.

“I didn’t.” A glance up to see a delectable flush on Anthony’s face. “I let it slip to Thor what I was making, and he said your mother could etch runes into them for protection, and I couldn’t turn it down. He brought it back after his last trip, said that she had blessed them too. Not really sure what that means, but it sounds nice, and it’s okay if you hate it. I’ll melt it down and try again. Really, it’s okay, and—”

Loki set the dagger on the table and pulled Anthony to him.

“I love it,” Loki promised between soft kisses. “Thank you, beloved. I will cherish this for the rest of my life. I will go into every battle with this dagger and know I shall win. My aim will never falter; my heart will forever be tied to you. I will honor this gift with every breath that I take.”

“Whoa, no wonder you’re called Silvertongue. I love you too, babe.”

Loki cupped Anthony’s cheeks and pressed one final kiss to the tip of his nose just to watch his beloved go cross-eyed.

“Tell me, love. Do you know what Godly titles my mother holds?”

When Anthony shook his head, Loki smirked.

“She is the Goddess of Marriage and Motherhood. For her to have blessed this…”

Anthony’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God, we’re engaged now, aren’t we? Holy shit, but Thor didn’t say anything, he just smirked at me and—” a groan. “That little sneak. He’s such a troll. No one ever expects it of him either. Oh. My. God. I’m almost fifty and just now getting married. You do want to get married, right? I didn’t even ask. Or did I? Does last time count? I was only joking. Mostly. Probably. I don’t need to ask, right? You want this?”

Loki placed a finger over Anthony’s lips, smiling when a kiss was pressed to his skin.

“I would like to spend the rest of my life with you, Anthony.”

Jarvis, such a smart boy, let out a sound that sounded so much like a gasp that Loki grinned.

“Right back at you, babe. We’ve got a good fifty more years if I keep messing with Extremis. I actually have some ideas to prolong my life, and you know me, I already ran through the projections and think it’ll work. Just need you to look it over, but that’s future me’s problem. Current me is still freaking out a bit. Can you tell? Jarvis, am I flushed? Or peaky? When was the last time I ate? Don’t answer that. No, Dum-E I don’t need a smoothie, and hey, clean up the streamers. My pigsty is not your pigsty. U, come here—”

Oh yes, Loki was in love. Desperately in love with a soon-to-not-be mortal. They would spend the rest of their lives together.

The apple in his pocket dimension would make sure of it.

-Fin