Chapter Eighteen - The Price of a Drop of Blood

Chapter Eighteen

The Price of a Drop of Blood

.

.

"You can't keep doing this," Rhodie said, glaring at Tony over his desk. "Come on, man. SHIELD wants you to work for them. It's good money, it's a great opportunity. I say go for it."

Tony Stark leaned back in his office chair and propped his feet on his bare desk, stroking his goatee to add to the effect of not caring. Rhodie eyed his feet.

"Tony…why are you wearing bunny slippers?"

"Forgot to change after my pajama party last night," Tony said, twitching his toes. The bunny ears flopped back and forth. Yanking open a drawer, he snagged an unused stylus from the jumbled contents and started flipping it around with one hand, twisting and whipping it between his long fingers. Totally deadpan, he added, "Aren't they adorable? Pepper let me borrow them. They don't match my suit but I've always been a trendsetter. Besides, the black and white needed a little something."

"Now you're just making crap up to screw with me."

"Probably. As for money, I am one of the richest men in the world. I think I'll live without SHIELD's weapons contract. And if I don't, then the entire world will go into mourning at my death and there will be no more war because no one will have the heart for it. Either way, it's a win-win."

Rhodie added a few ounces of "military-style angry" to his glare. Tony raised his eyebrow. He didn’t march to anybody's fife, including Rhodie's. He loved the guy like a brother, but wasn’t it a brother's job to irritate his siblings? Tony knew Rhodie wouldn’t appreciate a lecture on how the playboy billionaire was simply fulfilling the circle of life in that regard, so he didn’t add any extra ouch-sauce to the condescending brow-lift.

"Can we be serious about this for five minutes?" Rhodie demanded. Clearly, Tony thought, he should've added some ouch-sauce, since his old friend was still harping about the wonders of the government agency he detested most. "Why do you always have to laugh when I mention SHIELD?"

"Because they're hilariously pathetic. Or pathetically hilarious. I can't decide which. I'm on the fence."

"Or you're an anarchist."

Tony's brow quirked higher. "Rhodie, I am shocked and appalled." Yeah, he added silently. Shocked and appalled that I sound like someone's grandmother. "Are you suggesting I'm a member of an anarchist group?"

"The way you're acting, with how nuts you are sometimes, maybe you are!"

Why was it that only Pepper noticed the twinkle he got in his eyes when he was shoveling mendacity on people? Then again, that was what made Pepper…well, Pepper. Aloud, Tony said, "Anarchists have groups?" Rhodie gave him a duh look. "They assemble? Doesn't that totally defeat the purpose?"

Rhodie looked ready to throttle him at this point. "You know what I meant, Tony."

"Yeah," he replied, getting serious for a minute. It was exhausting being serious, but he could manage it when he had to. "I know what you meant. But I'm not working for SHIELD. Ever. We tried that last year and a good friend of mine ended up dead. The one thing SHIELD had going for it and they threw it away."

Way too much seriousness, Tony decided. Thinking about Coulson always brought in too much seriousness. He'd been a friend, and Tony hadn’t realized it until it had been too late. Except for Obadiah, who'd practically been his dad, he'd never lost a friend before. And since then, he hadn’t been able to handle too much seriousness. Which was why he kept Bruce around. That, and the guy needed a buddy who didn't care about the big, green rage-monster inside of him. There was a girl in Tony's R&D who was convinced all Bruce needed was a hug to help quell said rage-monster. Tony kept trying to get Bruce to take the girl up on it—hugs led to all sorts of interesting things from hot girls—but the guy was still too repressed. They were making progress, though.

"So I don't like SHIELD anymore," the young genius continued. "They can't have my stuff. Besides, Nick Fury looks like a pirate. I refuse to work for a pirate. I'm morally opposed. It threatens to knock my moral compass off-center."

Rhodie sighed and dropped his head back against his chair. This was the almost-defeated pose. Tony knew it well. Rhodie would give in soon. Probably in the next five minutes. "Last week," his friend muttered, "you said you wouldn’t work for him because he looked like a llama."

"He was wearing a poncho like the fat guy in that Disney movie with the llamas," Tony said. Seriously, how many times did he have to explain this? "The one I saw with the kids that came by from the school. He reminded me of a llama."

"Tony—" Rhodie tried again. After all these years, he still hadn’t learned that trying only led to bitter, bitter defeat. Except when he was right and Tony was wrong. Tony liked to pretend those times never happened. But this was not one of those times.

Closing his eyes and sticking a finger in his ear, he said, "You're stifling my creativity."

"Tony—"

"Lalalalala, not listening to Rhodie, lalalalala."

He'd actually gotten into a bit of a musical rhythm when JARVIS interrupted. "Sir—"

"Not now, Jarvis, I'm irritating Rhodie." They were interrupting his foray into musical composition. Didn’t people know how difficult it was to master a whole new subject? Sometimes it took more than a day. "Lalalalala—"

"Sir, there are two men here to see you. They are most insistent."

That caught his attention. Eyeing Rhodie, Tony demanded, "Are they SHIELD?"

"No, sir. One of them is Thor."

Tony bolted upright in his chair. The glow from the miniature arc reactor in his chest pulsed once as his heart-rate kicked up. "Thor?" Kicking off the bunny slippers, he got to his feet and raced for the door to his private elevator. "Where is he, JARVIS?"

"In the front lobby, sir. There is another man with him who appears to be Asgardian, as well. Shall I send them up, sir?"

"Where's Pepper?"

"Wrapping up a conference meeting on the first floor, sir."

"Send her," Tony commanded, yanking off his black tie. No way was he meeting an old war buddy looking like an FBI goon. "Tell her to stall two minutes and then have Thor and this other guy meet me in my private office on the top floor." The elevator doors whooshed open and Tony hopped inside. Poking his head back out, he added, "Rhodie, you coming? There's gonna be lots of SHIELD bashing and mean words tossed around while we discuss Fury's secret predilection for wearing women's underwear. It'll be fun."

"If I stay here, can I drink your gin?"

"Just stay away from my bourbon," Tony tossed back, stepping fully into the elevator. "JARVIS, top floor. Tell Bruce we've got company. Do I have any clean t-shirts?"

"I'll ask Ms. Potts, sir."

.

Thor tried not to fidget as he waited for the disembodied voice of the entity known as JARVIS to contact Tony Stark and alert him to Thor's presence. This Midgardian "lobby" felt far too cramped for the Asgardian's liking. Mortals were so tiny.

And that made him think of Jane. She was so small compared to the crown prince, yet she'd fit perfectly against him when he'd pulled her to him after defeating the Destroyer. And for one so small, so seemingly delicate, she'd had the strength to haul him against her for that single fleeting kiss of farewell. Sometimes Thor could still taste that kiss.

He wanted to go see Jane, wanted to find her and tell her everything that had been happening to him since he'd left her almost two years ago. Two years…so long to be without her. But he was needed on Asgard still. Loki needed him. This mystery of Coulson and Thea and Nick Fury and the Chitauri had to be solved before Thor could even think of telling his mother and father his intentions towards Jane. Balder knew, because Thor had sought his little brother's wisdom, and no doubt Loki knew; he'd always been able to read the crown prince better than anyone. But with all that was happening in the Realm at the moment, petitioning to court a mortal would've been asking too much of his parents.

Yet he longed to see her just for a moment. To hear her voice, her laugh. She had such a bright laugh. And she was so clever. Far more clever than most of the people he'd met on Midgard, though he liked them all well enough.

His thoughts were interrupted by Víðarr's brief nudge. Jerking himself from memories of Jane, Thor focused on the tall, slender mortal approaching them. She wore the crisply-ironed gray trousers and jacket he'd seen on Midgardian "businessmen," but her bright auburn hair and friendly smile kept the colorless outfit from making her seem severe and forbidding. As soon as he saw the bright gray eyes and the hair, Thor knew exactly who this must be.

"You must be Thor," the woman said cheerfully, holding out her hand. Thor kissed her knuckles briefly, then gave her hand to his brother, who did the same. The mortal inclined her head in acknowledgement. "I'm Pepper Potts, Mr. Stark's—"

"You're his lady," Thor said, smiling. "Yes, he spoke of you when I was here last year. I have wanted to meet you for a long time."

"Tony talked about me?" Pepper cocked her head, smiling a little bemusedly.

Thor grinned. "Quite a bit after the battle. He praises you quite highly. It is an honor to meet such a redoubtable woman. This is my younger brother, Víðarr."

"Lady Pepper," Víðarr murmured, offering a short bow. "It is an honor to meet the lady of one of my brother's comrades-in-arms."

The faintest hint of a blush crept into the woman's cheeks and she said, "Well, thank you. It's nice to meet the man Tony's talked so much about. Did you two really get into a fight in the middle of the woods in Germany?"

He laughed. "A minor skirmish. We had a misunderstanding over—"

"Who had a right to whose toys," Víðarr said in a stage-whisper. Thor shot him a mock-quelling look, and his younger brother grinned. "It escalated when the Man of Iron bade my brother to put his hammer down."

"It's my hammer."

Víðarr smiled at Pepper. "As I said."

"You're here to see Tony, I take it?" Pepper asked. Thor nodded. "Well, right this way, gentlemen." She gestured for them to follow as she strode to a glass door that opened to the cramped Midgardian traveling box known as an elevator. It was a tight fit for the two large men and the mortal woman, but Thor and Víðarr crowded together to give Pepper a bit more room. "JARVIS," Pepper called as the doors hissed closed.

The disembodied voice echoed from the metal mesh in the ceiling of the elevator—what were those called, again? Ah, yes. Thor remembered now. Speakers—and Thor recognized the voice of the JARVIS creature.

"Yes, Ms. Potts?"

"To the top floor, please."

"Right away, Ms. Potts."

With a sudden lurch, the elevator shot skyward. As the elevator moved toward the top floor, music issued from the speakers. A girl, Thor thought. Mortal, obviously, and young, perhaps a woman just leaving maidenhood behind. At first the words made no sense, but with a jolt of shock, Thor realized he recognized them.

"I like writing songs about

Douche-bags who cheat on me,

But I'm not gonna say that

In my monologue…"

"This song," Thor said. Pepper glanced at him, one brow raised. "This is…Taylor Swift, is it not?"

"You're a fan of country?" She asked, bemused.

"Country?" Víðarr echoed. "I do not understand. This song is…country?"

"Yeah, that's the genre."

"How did you get this music?" Thor asked.

"You know, I'm not sure," Pepper replied. "JARVIS, I thought the music for Tony's private elevator came from his iTunes library on his main computer and I'm pretty sure this isn't on there."

There was a soft hum from the speakers. Thor wondered if JARVIS were thinking. Did such things as "computers" need to think? Tony had explained them as machines with thoughts that raced quicker than lightning. Yet it was a few seconds before JARVIS said, "My memory banks show Mr. Stark showing a few visiting students from Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters how to play with some of the computer systems. I registered a young lady named Cleo asked him to put this song into the playlist for the elevator while she was here."

Thor frowned. "Cleo Valerian?"

JARVIS hummed for a second before replying, "Yes, sir. That was the young lady's name."

Pepper's brows rose higher. "Friend of yours?"

Golden brows furrowed as Thor exchanged a glance with Víðarr. "A kinswoman of ours…perhaps," he murmured. Could it be Thea's youngest sister? Loki hadn’t spoken much about Thea's family after the basics of names and ascendance by age, and that her two eldest brothers had superhuman powers. Could it be her?

The doors whooshed open a moment later to reveal two men lounging in the vast receiving room. One man, with a few threads of silver in his dark hair and wire-rimmed spectacles perched on his nose, lifted a hand in greeting. Thor grinned and strode toward him, crying, "Banner! My old comrade!" Grabbing the mortal scholar, Thor crushed him in a bruising hug. "It is good to see you! You have stayed with the son of Howard all this time?"

"Yeah," Bruce said, adjusting the glasses Thor's hug had knocked askew. He smiled at the tall Asgardian. "Doing some research together. How you doing, big guy?"

"I am well enough," Thor replied. "But it is good to see you! You are doing well? You have managed to control your beast?" Bruce nodded. "I knew that you could! Well done! I am glad for you."

"I feel like a wallflower," another voice interrupted. Still grinning, Thor turned to see Tony perched on the back of a long, white leather couch, feigning hurt. "It's like I'm not even here. I'm invisible. Point Break's not even looking at me. Pepper, what is this? Something strange is happening."

"It's called being ignored," she replied with a sweet smile. "It's good to experience how the little people live now and then."

Thor saw the corner of Tony's mouth twitch before he managed to suppress it. "But I'm not a little person. I'm me. Tony Stark. The center of this universe. The big kahuna. Master of all I survey. What's going on here with the ignoring? What is this?"

"This is you having a diva moment," Pepper said, unruffled.

Tony's eyes narrowed. "Then where are my flowers? I could’ve sworn I asked for freesias. Where are my freesias?"

"They're with your crown on the parade float," Bruce said, smiling benignly. Tony raised one eyebrow and looked at Thor, who was laughing now, and then to Bruce, and finally to Pepper.

"Tag-teamed. I get it. Fine. After this meeting I'm going to drown myself in a bucket. See how you all feel then, when the glory of my genius is gone from this world forever, plunging it into eternal darkness. I'm holding back the darkness, Pepper."

"And you do a wonderful job."

"You're patronizing me."

"Only sometimes," she said, smiling. Thor could see, as plain as a full moon in a cloudless night sky, the love in Pepper's face as she looked at the mortal warrior who held her heart. It was the same look Jane had given him once. Had Thea ever given Loki such a look? "I'll let you boys get down to business," Pepper added. With a wave, she stepped back into the elevator, which took her out of sight.

Tony hopped off the couch and went to Thor. The two Avengers clasped hands. "Hey, man. What's going on? What are you doing here? I thought your Rainbowland Bridge—"

"Rainbow Bridge," Bruce corrected.

"Whatever. I thought it was busted. How did you get here? And who's this guy?" Tony gestured to Víðarr, and Thor introduced his younger brother. "Oh. Is he adopted, too?"

"No. I am sorry, my friends, I am not here for your company, though I am grateful you were willing to receive us. I must speak to you regarding our fallen friend, Coulson."

The warmth in Tony's eyes immediately dimmed, shuttered by grief and sullen anger. Thor could understand; he felt the same way about their friend's death. Tony turned away and walked to the low metal table beside the couch. A small half-full of amber liquid sat there; the prince recognized it as the mortal drink known as "scotch." The Midgardian snatched it up and took a long sip. "What about him?"

Thor had thought long and hard about how to put this before his old friends. They hadn’t seen what Loki had become since his imprisonment, and they had no reason to think kindly of his little brother. He would have to be careful. So, speaking with utmost caution, Thor murmured, "I believe we weren’t told everything about his death."

Bruce plucked his glasses off his face; the crown prince recognized that as the sign that he'd caught the mortal scholar's full attention. "What do you mean? Loki killed him."

Víðarr opened his mouth as if to refute the claim, but Thor raised a hand to silence him. After a moment, the younger prince nodded.

"There is an oath in Asgard," Thor said, carefully avoiding Bruce and Tony's gazes. "An oath that cannot be broken, upon pain of death. When an Asgardian swears by the Norns and their Tapestry, whatever is sworn must be the truth. To forswear such a vow will result in death by seiðr. It is inescapable and immediate."

Bruce and Tony exchanged glances, then took seats on the couch. When Tony leaned back, the glow of the device in his chest showed through the thin black cotton of his t-shirt. Gesturing with the glass of scotch, he said, "Go on."

"Loki swore a vow by the Norns to me. If he'd been lying, he would be dead now. The innate magic of the vow would have killed him instantly. It didn't."

"Which means he was telling the truth," Bruce hazarded. Thor nodded. "About Coulson?"

"Yes. He swore to me that his strike didn't kill our friend."

Tony lunged to his feet and paced around the couch. He took a swig from the glass, stared at it, then snapped his gaze back to Thor. "You're one-hundred-percent sure that Loki didn't kill him? That this is legit? You're sure?"

He nodded. "I am sure. Loki could not lie in this. His vow, spoken in falsehood, would have killed him then and there. The punishment for swearing falsely by the Mistresses of Fate is brutal and swift. He was telling the truth. He does not claim that our friend still lives, but it was not Loki's strike that killed him…which makes me wonder about SHIELD, and if they lied to us."

Tony swallowed hard, then turned sharply and hurled his drink against the wall. It shattered in an explosion of crystalline glass and amber liquid. The Man of Iron raked a hand through his hair before stomping back to the couch.

"You think they lied?"

Thor shook his head. "I fear they may have. That is not the same thing."

"They probably did," Bruce muttered. Tony made a sharp sound of derision.

"I am here," Thor added, "to find out information about Coulson, about the circumstances of his death, and…and about his daughter."

"Daughter?" Tony echoed. "He had a daughter?"

"The daughter of the woman he was courting," Thor corrected himself. "You remember he mentioned her? The musician?"

"The cellist in Portland. Yeah. Why do you need information about that woman's daughter? Was Coulson her father?"

The Asgardian sighed, frowned, and stroked his beard. How to say this? How to make it matter to them enough to get their help? "He was like a father to her, for nearly twenty years. She is dead. Her death is…important. It connects with the events of last October, when the Chitauri invaded this city. She may have been part of the cause, part of the reason the enemy could get to this Realm in the first place. I have reason to believe that Coulson knew something about the Chitauri that he hadn’t told us. He may have told Fury—I'm fairly certain he did—but what it might be, I know not."

"Important, how?" Bruce asked, creases forming between his brows. "You said this girl's death was important, connected to the invasion. How?"

He took a deep breath. "Loki claims he was blackmailed into invading your Realm."

"Oh, come on," Tony snapped. "Whatever. You don't really believe that, do you, man? I mean, I know the guy's your brother, but seriously—"

"Tony, shut up," Bruce said softly. The other mortal stared at him incredulously. "Thor wouldn’t have come all the way out here from Asgard if he didn’t have a good reason. We need to shut up and listen. Because we all know Loki was nuts, but he was smart. So if Thor thought he'd been blackmailed, there would have to be a really good reason for him to believe that. He's not being controlled; look at his eyes. So spill it. What's going on that brought you all the way to Earth, big guy?"

Víðarr and Thor exchanged glances. How much could he say? Loki hadn’t forbidden him to tell the Midgardians anything, but to casually spill his foster brother's secrets as if they were worthless…the prince couldn’t do that, either. So he focused on a spot of sunlight dappling the carpet and took a moment to marshal his thoughts before speaking.

"Loki and I have been…talking for many months now. Nearly a year. And he has told me many things that I believe to be true. I do not ask you to believe. That isn't why I am here. I'm here for proof of my brother's words. If he speaks the truth, it changes many things about what happened last year. If he lies…then he is a better liar than I believed anyone capable. Either way, I need to know the truth.

"My brother claims that the Chitauri held him prisoner for more than a year in their dungeons. While there, he met a mortal woman named Althea. They fell in love, married according to Asgardian custom…and had a child. A daughter named Sophie. When Althea learned she was with child, the Chitauri also learned of it, and tortured her in front of Loki, threatening to kill her and her unborn child if he did not submit to their wishes."

Recitation over, he looked up from the spot on the carpet he'd been well on his way to memorizing, and met the shocked gazes of his comrades. Bruce played with his spectacles for a time in heavy silence. Tony, face pale and tense, got up to get another drink. He offered one to Thor, who declined. Víðarr accepted. Tony took his time walking back to the couch.

"You believe him," the Man of Iron murmured after he'd taken his seat again and given the younger prince his drink. "You wouldn’t be here if you didn't. So why are you here, exactly?"

"I need proof, one way or the other. My brother has spoken to SHIELD, as well as a powerful Midgardian known as Charles Xavier. He had the impression they were hiding something from us, though for what reason, we couldn't discern."

Tony scoffed and shook his head. "I don't know about the professor—I've met him, he's pretty decent; his students had a field trip out here just last week, nice kids—but SHIELD? Like I've said many, many times, even their secrets have secrets. They might hide crap from you just so they can do a gloaty little tap-dance about it later in their 'Who's the Best Spy' meetings. So you want me to hack into SHIELD's computers and get whatever there is to get about Coulson and this woman?"

Thor nodded. "You are the only ones in this Realm I can trust, my friends. And I can give you what information I have: her full name was Althea Sigyn Valerian, her mother's name is also Sophie, and Coulson had been courting Sophie Valerian for at least fifteen years before Thea disappeared on a camping trip with her family."

"There is one other thing," Víðarr said. "Both Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters and the SHIELD base in this city are being shielded by a strange form of seiðr. It isn't Midgardian, or Asgardian, or Frost Giant, though it feels similar to all of them in a way. It is somewhat like Loki's power, but it isn't his power. It feels very uncontrolled, as if whoever is putting these shields around these places knows what they're doing, but isn't doing it very well. It is…clumsy. Like a child drawing with color-sticks compared to what should be a sketch done by a master artist. That power prevents Heimdall, the Gatekeeper of Asgard, from seeing into these places. I had difficulty staying at the school. The entire time, the power of the shield kept trying to shove me out. When this was mentioned both to Xavier and Fury, they seemed surprised at first, but then seemed to come to some sort of understanding."

Bruce smiled ruefully. "Didn't feel like sharing that understanding with you? Didn't think so. Huh. Not Loki's power, not your kind of thing or ours. We'll look into it. Right, Tony?"

"You kidding? How am I supposed to sleep, knowing SHIELD has secrets I don't know about yet? JARVIS! Have you been listening to this?"

"Yes, sir."

"Run the requisite scans and searches. Fury didn't get rid of all of our bugs from the last meeting, did he?"

"Of course not, sir."

"Awesome. Hop to it. So," beaming at the men assembled, "since you're here—schwarma, anybody?"

.

They only stayed long enough for schwarma; Thor wasn’t comfortable leaving Loki for too long. It felt dangerous to leave him when they'd made so much progress, especially with Tyr lurking who knew where, possibly waiting to pounce. If Tyr started harassing Loki again, the crown prince didn’t know what sort of damage might be done. His brother was…fragile now. He wasn’t the strong, clever, sometimes vicious man Thor remembered, or even the confident and cruel madman who'd attacked Midgard the previous year. The prince told his old comrades that Heimdall would be watching, and that when Tony wanted him, Thor would return.

Bidding the Man of Iron and Banner farewell, and dropping a kiss to the back of Lady Pepper's hand, Thor and Víðarr entered one of the seiðr pathways between Realms and made their way back to Asgard.

Thor was sick that time, as well.

At his mother's insistence, Thor slept off the effects of seiðr travel before he went to see his brother late that night. Even when he rose after a few hours' sleep, he still looked pale and haggard. Perhaps that would impress Loki. If his foster brother thought Thor suffered in order to help him, mayhap the green-eyed prince would open up more. There was still much he needed to explain.

Stifling a yawn, Thor made his way to the dungeons. The Asgardian night was quiet, so long after midnight. Crickets chirped and a nightingale sang from far off. The snap and crackle of torches in their sconces on the wall, and the song of the crickets, reminded him too strongly of that night on the roof of the research lab with Jane. After she'd fallen asleep in her chair, Thor had stayed up late into the night, simply watching the stars and remembering his family. His father, whom he'd thought gone forever; his mother, so strong and wise and beautiful; the twins, who looked up to their older brothers; Tyr and Víðarr, whom Thor hadn’t even been able to see before his exile; and Loki.

It was so strange, the prince thought now as he approached the dungeon entrance, how he and Loki had once been so very close. Thor's first word had been "Loh-ee," and Loki's had been "Tor"—different from all their other brothers, whose first word had been the expected "Mumma." What had changed? Why had they grown apart?

"Thor," a soft voice hailed him from the shadows, and he stopped. Sif emerged from the hollow of darkness near the door and stopped, as if expecting him to rebuff her. Instead, he smiled. A hesitant smile from his friend answered him. "You are going to see Loki?"

He nodded. "I wish to tell him what progress was made in Midgard today."

"May I…may I come with you?"

Brow furrowing, he asked, "Why?"

"I want to talk to him, if I may. I have no intention of antagonizing him. I…I want to see him. He was my friend too, once. If what you say is true…there is much that needs to be considered. I would like to speak to him."

Thor hesitated. Sif wouldn’t lie to him; that wasn’t the source of his uncertainty. Loki had said that Sif had slapped him once, and called him ärgr. If she'd been a man, it would have been well within Loki's rights to challenge her to hölmgang, and during such combat, he would have been justified in killing her. Sif might want to see Loki, but that didn't mean that Loki wanted to see her.

"If he asks that I leave, I will," Sif said, intuiting the reason for the prince's unease. "I have no intention of hurting him, if that is what worries you. I merely wish to talk to him."

After another moment's hesitation, Thor nodded. "If he asks you to leave—"

"Then I shall."

The walk down the dungeon corridor was silent, strained. Thor wasn’t at all certain this was a wise decision, but at least Sif would leave if Loki grew agitated—unlike Odin, whose very presence enraged the fostered prince. He wondered if the breach between his brother and father would ever mend.

Loki was awake and pacing almost frantically when they arrived, which sent a pang of worry through the prince. He'd done as his little brother had requested and sent enough ale that Loki should have still been quiescent, though not asleep. And judging by the empty kegs that had been smashed to splinters, the green-eyed prince had drunk it all. So how was he awake? Why? And what had upset him now? For Loki strode swiftly and savagely across the length of his cell, chewing on the knuckle of his crooked index finger until blood flowed, stark red against his white skin. Crimson smeared his lips. Deep lines snarled across his forehead and between the thin black brows. His eyes burned electric blue.

"No," he growled under his breath. "No. Stop it. Stop it! Leave me alone. Stop it." Making a circuit of the room, he suddenly turned and slammed his foot into the chair he usually sat in, sending it crashing into the wall. It hit with a resounding crash and then fell to the floor with a clatter. Loki shoved his fingers through his hair, uncaring of the blood on his hands. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! I won't listen to this! I didn't…I couldn't…no!"

"Who is he talking to?" Sif whispered, hanging back in the shadows to keep Loki from seeing her. "What is…wrong with him?"

A terrible weight seemed to have settled over Thor's shoulders as he watched his little brother pacing and muttering and bleeding. Was that the glitter of a tear at the corner of Loki's eye? Thor drew a breath into lungs gone suddenly, painfully tight. "He hears a child crying…always. In sleep or waking. And often he hears Thea screaming."

Wide-eyed, Sif whispered, "What? Why?"

"The Chitauri tortured her in front of him," Thor replied. Sif's breath caught. "To see the person you love treated so…it would break any man."

"Why did the Chitauri do this? He was already their lieutenant, the leader of their invading force. Why do such a thing to someone Loki obviously cared for?"

Thor sighed. "He wasn't their lieutenant then. That was how they brought him over to their side." Sif turned to watch Loki, eyes wide and expression troubled. Thor sighed again. "Sif, I think you should go. As upset as he is, I don’t think now is the best time for you to speak to him."

She nodded. "Will you…tell him I wish to talk, however? That I would like to discuss how things stand between us."

"If possible, I will."

Sif canted her head in acknowledgement and quickly stole back down the corridor, far away from the madness and darkness thickening in the dungeons.

Behind her, Thor watched his brother suddenly jerk to a halt and fall to his knees. Slender, pale hands smeared with blood shook as Loki lifted them up to stare at them. He'd been chewing his nails again, the crown prince noticed with a pang. The nail-beds had been savaged raw and still seeped crimson. Bleeding teeth-marks marred Loki's knuckles. Many of the guards had said they'd noticed the disguised Frost Giant often gnawing his knuckles in his sleep. Because of the nightmares of Thea?

Loki covered his face with shaking hands and bowed his head. Tremors rippled through the too-thin body. Thor realized just how wasted his brother had become. Loki had always been slender, but now…was he eating? How had Thor not thought to ask? His little brother's wrists seemed all white bones and paper-thin flesh, except where the strange, black markings poked out from beneath his sleeve. Loki still hadn’t explained those marks, either.

"Damn you, Thor," Loki whispered. "Damn you, Father. This is your fault, it's all your fault, I…no. No, it's my fault. I should have protected them. I should have…no! No, I did what I had to do. Coulson should have done what was needed! He betrayed them! Why couldn't he complete his mission? Why didn't he save them? Why? It's not my fault, Thea. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I loved you. I loved you, I didn’t want them to hurt you. I never wanted you to be harmed, I loved you, darling, please…please. You must believe me. I would follow you, I would, but I can't. They won't let me. I haven't the strength or the seiðr necessary to steal a blade and..."

All at once Loki lifted his head. His eyes, fluctuating between that bizarre cobalt and the familiar emerald, fixed on the glass inkwell on the table. The sapphire began to consume the natural color of his eyes. Slowly he rose to his feet. His fingers trembled before they convulsed into bloody fists at his side. His expression as he stared at the inkwell was such a mixture of hope and despair that it clawed at Thor's heart. What was his brother seeing that Thor wasn't?

Loki took a single step forward. "Yes. Yes, I see. Of course. I've been such a fool. The way was always here. I could have…Forgive me, Thea. I didn't realize or I would have…I'm sorry. But don't worry. You will have your revenge for our daughter. Our sweet, little Sophie. Don't worry, my love."

With two lightning-swift paces, Loki strode to the table, hefted the glass inkwell, and hurled it against the wall. Thor was reminded of Tony with his scotch. The glass vessel shattered when it collided with the wall, spattering the white stone with inky darkness. The shards of glass tinkled to the floor. Loki walked toward the pool of ink and glass, steps dragging as his legs shook. He staggered once, twice. Thor remembered he had staggered just the same way on the day he'd learned of Thea's death.

Loki knelt and picked up a shard of glass perhaps three inches long. Thor's blood chilled with a breath of frost and dread. The thin sliver of broken glass bit into Loki's fingertips. Burgundy dripped, pit-pat-pit-pat, on the floor to mix with the black pool at the prince's feet. Eyes wide, held immobile by the strangling disbelief flooding his limbs, Thor watched as Loki touched the very point of the glass to the vulnerable underside of his pale, thin wrist. A drop of blood welled up and trickled over the white skin. Loki pressed a little harder, and more blood flowed.

"No! Loki!" Thor lurched forward, stumbling in his haste, and his hands collided with the window of enchanted glass. "No! Brother, you must not! You cannot!"

"Go, Thor," he whispered. "You needn't bear witness to this."

"No!" The Asgardian hammered his fist against the window and cried, "Loki, this isn't the way! What about your vengeance?"

Loki shook his head. "It matters not. There is no vengeance that can bring them back. I hear them constantly, Brother. It never stops. I want it to stop. I want to be able to sleep without hearing my daughter weeping for me and her mother, without hearing my wife screaming in agony. I just want to rest. Nothing helps. This might."

Thor swallowed hard, then bellowed, "Guards! Open the prince's prison!"

"But, Your Highness—"

"Do it!"

Thor didn't waste a second after the guards deactivated the seiðr holding Loki imprisoned. He rushed into the cell, slamming the door and activating the magic again himself. If—a colossal if—Loki was attempting to escape, he wouldn't manage it, but Thor didn’t think this was such an attempt.

He lunged for Loki and knocked the glass shard out of his brother's hand. The tip cut a small line of crimson across the thin wrist, and fresh blood flowed freely. Kicking once, sharply, at the remaining shards on the floor to knock them out of his brother's reach, Thor grabbed his younger brother by the too-thin wrists and yanked him, staggering, to his feet. Loki stared at the crown prince as if he thought his foster brother were a mirage. Thor shook him.

"You can't do this!" He yelled, shaking Loki again. "You cannot end your life and leave me here alone! You're my brother, how could you turn your back on me like this?"

Loki shook his head as if dazed. "What are you doing in here?"

"Shut up!" Thor cried, gripping him by the back of the neck, as he had the night he'd come to Midgard to fetch his brother home. "What did you think? That I would just stand back and let you take your own life? As if I wouldn't care? As if it wouldn’t shatter me? What are you thinking? What about Mother and Father? What about our brothers? What about Sif? She was here tonight; she wanted to see you, to talk to you. Would you turn your back on us all? Leave us without so much as a goodbye?"

"You don't und—"

"You're my brother, damn you!" Thor blinked hard, realizing his vision had blurred. Dampness spilled down his cheeks. His voice caught when he cried, "You're my twin. I don't care if you were fostered, I don't care if you're a Frost Giant, I don't care if Mother found you in a box of freshly-hatched snakes with goat horns and three heads. You're my twin brother, my shadow, my friend. Why would you do this?"

"It's justice," Loki rasped. "It was my fault that Thea—"

"It is not justice," Thor snapped. "And I won't let you do it! No one wants you dead, Loki. No one who matters. Thea wouldn't want this."

"How do you know?" Loki whispered brokenly. His brilliant blue gaze roved over Thor's face as if searching for something vital. "How do you know that, wherever she is, she doesn't want me to suffer for what the Chitauri did to our child?"

"Because she loved you," Thor said. Loki's eyes slid closed and he shuddered. "You want to die, when you have so many reasons to live? You will destroy our Mother if you do this. You will break our Father. And you will wound me beyond enduring. We have always been brothers, and we always will be, no matter what happens between us. Enemies or rivals or friends, whatever, we are still brothers. How could you ever doubt that? Don't do this, Loki."

His brother stared at him for a long moment as the blue leeched away, to be replaced by vivid, gleaming jade. Thor counted his heartbeats, waiting. Just waiting. And at last Loki sagged against him, all strength suddenly gone, and dropped his forehead against Thor's shoulder, shuddering as if with cold. Trembling hands came up to grip the sides of the older prince's blue tunic. Loki made a choked noise. The breath hitched in his throat as tremors racked the too-thin frame. Thor held his little brother tightly, trying to force the shivers to stillness. The brothers stood that way for several long, silent minutes as the emotion shuddered through the younger prince. Loki didn't weep, but he was as limp and boneless as an exhausted child when he at last stepped back from Thor.

"Father will be angry you've done this," Loki whispered. "Angry you entered my prison. I could have escaped, you know."

Thor shook his head. "I don't care. I would rather face Father's wrath over something so insignificant than Mother's grief over losing you again. Or Father's grief, for that matter. It would kill them both to lose you once more. And besides, you have not told me the entire story of you and your lady. If you wish to die, someone should remain who remembers all that she was, and all that you are. And Thanos should pay for what he did to my niece and my brother's wife."

Loki closed his eyes and sighed once, shakily. "Thor…this madness burns in me. Sometimes I hear Thea's voice calling to me. Sometimes she begs me to hold on, swears to find her way here and free me, to explain to everyone what happened…but then there are those times when I hear her enticing me to take a blade to my wrists to pay for my sins. What is real and what is illusion?"

"The woman you've told me of would never ask such a thing of you, Loki," Thor replied. "Never. She loved you as much as you love her. If Thea could ask anything of you, it would be for you to hold on, not to give up. The woman you loved would never say such, and never to you."

Utterly exhausted, the prince whispered, "The voices, Thor…they almost never stop. I have a moment's peace now, but I don't know how long it will last. I…no!" Loki's hand flew to his temple as he gritted his teeth. Blue threaded through the green depths of his tormented gaze. "No…no…" Clenching his jaw, Loki squeezed his eyes shut. After the taut muscles relaxed, he opened his eyes to reveal pure viridian once more. "Sometimes I see her, but she never stays long, no matter what she commands of me. And the voices, they fade in and out like whispers of a nightmare, but they never stop. It threatens to end me, Thor, this longing…and I welcome that end, if only to see her again. I would burn the world to ash, if only to see her again.

"The Other warned me once, you know. He told me that if I kept the tesseract from the Chitauri, if I betrayed them, they would teach me to regret it. That when they were through, I would long for something as sweet as mere pain. I thought he meant torture, death. I didn't think it would be this…hollow agony. This living death without her, without them." Loki shook his head. "You should have killed me, Thor."

"Loki…" Thor studied his brother, a sudden hunch tickling at the back of his brain. He gave no outward sign, but inwardly, he began recollecting all the times he'd seen Loki's eyes blaze so vividly blue and what his brother had been doing when the color had changed. Could it be…could it possibly be…

A vicious shudder ripped through Loki's body. "You should go, Brother, before Father arrives and sees you in here. He will be less angry if you're already gone."

Thor laid a hand on his little brother's shoulder. "I will come back tomorrow. I swear to you. Promise me you will not do this again."

After a brief eternity, Loki nodded wearily. "I promise you that…that I will wait until you have been told the entire story. Thea deserves to be remembered for all that she was. After that, I make no promises."

For now, the prince would have to be satisfied, because he needed to speak to his father. At long last, a question had been answered—the question of Loki's blue eyes. Thor might have been wrong, he wasn’t altogether certain, but his instincts told him that the Chitauri were somehow still manipulating his brother. The question was, how?