Thank you as always, Silvermane1 and Kiiriminna!

I apologise in advance for my silly, silly attempts at romance. I think I'm aromantic and should never touch an intimate relationship with a ten-foot pole. I was born to be a spinster, I suppose.

The next time Loki woke up, he was relieved to feel the faint sizzle of magic under his skin. He kept his eyes closed, basking in the heat of power as he subtly twitched his arms and legs, checking for restraints.

There was a rustling noise to his left and a cool hand caught his exposed wrist. Someone counted patiently under their breath.

Loki risked opening his eye a sliver. Bruce was hunched over his mutilated arm, staring fixedly at his watch. The doctor glanced up and caught the god's eye.

Bruce smiled, releasing Loki's wrist. "Good morning,"

The godling did a quick calculation in his head. "I've been asleep for 18 hours?" He rasped incredulously. His mouth tasted of sand as he swayed into a sitting position, blinking muzzily. Bruce steadied him and laughed lightly.

"20, actually, you missed a lot." The mortal sat down beside him on the cot and removed his glasses to clean them on his shirt. "I don't know what she did, but Natasha's convinced Clint that Thanos is the bigger threat. He'll fight so long as he doesn't have to... see you." He cleared his throat sheepishly.

"Seems fair," Loki said hoarsely. He glanced around with dull eyes and realised he wasn't in the lab anymore. "Whose room is this?" The walls were a pale blue, the carpet a clean ice white, and an entire wall was made of glass overlooking the city. It had few personal items but made up for the lack of personality by being spread messily across the room. The young god had a sinking feeling he knew who slept here.

Bruce offered an apologetic grin. "Thor's. He said you'd need to rest and Tony's emergency cot wouldn't cut it."

Loki waited for the usually rush of resentment and rage but it didn't come. He cast about for something to say. "What does bae mean?" He muttered, mostly to himself. Banner stiffened beside him and coughed.

"Earth colloquialism," The doctor mumbled to his feet. " 'S not important." He stood and stretched to cover the last of his embarrassment. "So, uh, how do we hunt Thanos down?"

Loki shuffled to the edge of the bed and rubbed his face. His body was one deep ache, the agony of recovering from a terrible illness. The very first thing he wanted to do was shower or eat, but he forced himself to face the human. "His people lived on Titan, the largest moon of Saturn in this realm, though they are long dead. He was in the void some time ago, but he has likely moved on. Perhaps... Does your SHIELD still have possession of my Scepter?"

"It was-" Bruce bit off his sentence and flushed red.

Loki watched the internal struggle for a moment before chuckling. "Stolen? I see. By whom?"

The doctor wavered for a moment before laughing at himself. "HYDRA. I don't know much about them. Why?"

"It is set with an Infinity Stone, the Mind Gem. Thanos 'gifted' it to me, he will want it back." Loki scratched the inside of his arm, delicately scraping the furrows and ridges that would never heal right. "I will retrieve the Scepter, but... There is something I must do first." He stood painfully and offered Banner his hand. "It won't take a moment, if you would like to...?"

Bruce swallowed and took his hand. After all, he thought optimistically, asking for help was a good sign. It means he's opening up. The world swirled around them in a kaleidoscope of colour and vertigo. A blast of freezing wind nearly knocked him over. He risked a peek when the dizziness faded and was relieved to see boundless grey expanse of a northern beach. "This is-s still ear-rth, right?" He asked through chattering teeth.

"Cape Sheridan, Canada." Loki flicked his fingers, spreading a cloud of heat over the shivering mortal. He let go of Bruce and stepped down towards the shore, maintaining perfect grace over the ice-slicked rocks. "We remain in Midgard for now. Please.. just watch."

Loki flowed into the water, letting the numbing slate-coloured water rise until it lapped at his waist. Tendrils of glowing turquoise curled out from his prone shape and stretched down and away. The foaming sea stilled for a moment before writhing like a nest of snakes. Waves churned frantically as something massive rose from the depths, pushing aside heavy blocks of ice effortlessly. A titanic equine-shaped head arrayed in barnacle-speckled spikes lifted slowly from the water. Its shimmering chartreuse eyes, each the size of a truck, fixed on the mischief god. Between its epic jaws was the scarred tip of an endless tail that extended down into the water and, by the white horses frothing along the coast, continued on infinitely.

"Oh my gosh," Bruce whispered in awe. The colossal eyes flickered briefly to watch him before losing interest. Banner could see intelligence there, not of the human sort but far older and deeper. Jörmungandr bent steadily down to brush tenderly against Loki, who wrapped his arms as far around his son as he could. The ocean rippled under the force of the World Serpent's gleeful rumbling.

Loki stood in the water talking contentedly with his child in Old Norse for awhile before gesturing for Bruce to approach. The mortal approached on shaky legs until the surprisingly tepid water reached his stomach and he stood beside Loki. Small icebergs, broken apart by the Midgard Snake's arrival, butted timidly against his sides and back.

"H-hello," He spluttered. It didn't feel like enough so he threw in a weak wave. The full force of Jörmungandr's gaze settled on him.

Without dropping his tail, Jörmungandr addressed the doctor. "Annarr faðir," His voice was as immense as his body and seemed to come from the earth itself.

Bruce was completely flat-footed. Was that a normal greeting? "Er, Annarr faðir?" He warbled back uncertainly. Banner barely managed to stay above the thrashing sea as a terrible racket split the sky. Jörmungandr was laughing? Bruce looked desperately to Loki who smiled and nodded approvingly. That's good, he guessed, though he had no clue what he had done right.

The mammoth snout briefly grazed Loki again before reluctantly melting back into the steely ocean. The young god stared out at the empty sea for a few seconds. "Well, Doctor Banner?"

"He has your eyes," Bruce managed without stammering. By the surprised thaw in Loki's eyes, it was the correct thing to say.

The sorcerer studied Banner thoughtfully and hummed. "I am beginning to think removing your Hulk will not be ample enough payment." He stated carefully.

"It's ample enough to me!" Bruce protested vehemently. He deserved it eight times over, as far as he was concerned!

"You mistake my intentions, dear doctor. I don't intend to take away your reward," Loki waded through the thigh-deep water until he towered over the mortal. "I would like to add to it."

One of Loki's spray-soaked hands caught the back of Bruce's neck while the other effortlessly snaked around the shorter man's waist. Banner found himself completely trapped as his heart stuttered in his chest and his breathing turned into uncertain ragged puffs.

"W-wait," Bruce gasped breathlessly, "the 'Other Guy'-"

"Your beast will not bother us and neither will mine." Loki promised fervently, bowing his head as he tilted the doctor's back. Bruce felt his heart leap and... slow steadily, leaving a touch of calm inside a mess of hot confusion. He caught a glimpse of green eyes aglow with magic before Loki impatiently claimed his lips.

He's controlling my heart-rate! Banner thought distantly. How does that work? A precise frequency might-

And then all thought vanished.

After a few seconds Bruce realised that Loki's earlier spell had faded away and he was, in fact, standing in arctic water so chilly only constant waves were keeping the ice from sealing over completely.

The doctor broke the kiss to shriek like a dying seagull and jumped into Loki's arms. The god swayed only slightly under his weight and chuckled fondly, carrying him back to the shore.

"Surely it cannot be that cold." The god said mockingly as he warmed the air up around them.

"Ar-are yo-u k-kid-ding?" Bruce stuttered coldly. He knew he would have been blushing if the blood hadn't been turned to syrup in his veins. "Yo-our're tu-turning blue!"

The sorcerer looked down at his chest and saw the jötunn markings rising like goose-flesh where the soaked shirt revealed his skin."I am often blue, Seggr." Loki replied with forced indifference. "It is how you can tell I am a villain. We must be colour-coded, or your poor team-mates would never know." He set the shaking mortal down gently on the shore.

They stared out at the sea in silence as Bruce slowly warmed up and Loki regained his pallor. He gave a weak cough to get the god's attention. "That- I- You-" He gathered himself and tried again, keeping his eyes closed so he wouldn't have to look at Loki. "I don't want... this to be because you feel obliged to or anything." He risked opening one eye a sliver.

Loki was doing a good job at being blank-faced and serious. That, Bruce thought with a sinking stomach, or I managed to offend him. "What would you like to blame then, doctor?"

Bruce took a deep breath of cold salty air and exhaled slowly. He was pretty sure Loki wouldn't smite him, not now. "I want it to be- to be just because, I guess." About eighty percent certain. "Because we get along and, er," He blushed furiously under the weight of Loki's attention and forced himself to press on. "And because we want to." Only the spell still curled up in his chest kept his heart from bursting or letting the Other Guy out.

Loki appraised the mortal pensively for a moment. "Yes," he mused softly, "perhaps we do." He straightened and offered his arm to Bruce. "Jörmungandr was my first stop, but not my only one. Would you accompany me, Doctor Banner?"

Bruce grinned and took his arm. "Bruce."

The god tilted his head slightly. He didn't smile, although the mortal thought maybe his face lost a few lines and some tension. "Bruce."

Banner stumbled when the spinning stopped, kept from the ground only by the grip on his arm. He wasn't sick but it was a near thing and it took a few seconds and several deep breaths before he could look around.

"This is Asgard," He gasped, enthralled. Golden spires rose into a piercingly bright sky, impressive gilded walls boxed them in on all sides and people in outlandish Nordic armour brushed past without a word. He turned eagerly to Loki and staggered back. "Loki?"

It must be Loki, since he was still holding his arm, but the man beside Bruce was far short and stockier with stormy grey eyes, a cropped red beard and curly mane.

"I am a wanted criminal, Seggr." Loki explained with an irritated huff. "I have no wish to be captured again. Not now." He pulled the mortal briskly through the crowd, weaving towards the distant gold castle. "We will go to the stables," He stated forcefully, "and the dys akr. It isn't safe to stay long."

Bruce glanced discreetly at the god as they walked. Even with the changed face, he could tell Loki was uncomfortable in Asgard. He had walked through earth and the Void like he not only owned it but was part of it, dragging the scenery behind him like a cape. In Asgard, in the golden city he helped create, Loki couldn't even lift his head high enough to meet a stranger's eyes.

It didn't take long to reach the castle stables through the mischief god's alleyways and shortcuts. One or two servants scurried through the courtyard but quickly fled at a contemptuous jerk of Loki's chin.

"Do they recognise you?" Bruce asked apprehensively. He vaguely recalled Thor saying they were both princes in Asgard.

"They don't even see us," Loki replied with a touch of pity, "they are used to obeying." He released Bruce's arm and stepped into the shaded stable. After a second's hesitation, the mortal followed.

The stables were dark and warm, alive with the soft snuffling of massive noses and click of hooves. He could just barely make out the gleam of several clever eyes watching them through the stall, each the size of a tennis ball and hovering well over Banner's head. Loki headed unerringly into the depths of the shadows while Bruce stumbled clumsily behind him. When the reached the deepest, darkest corner in the stables, Loki stopped and lit the torches.

Somewhere outside the circle of firelight, a great sleepy head stirred. Bruce squinted in the gloom. Was that a neck, or a fallen stone column? Those knobby lengths could be eight folded legs or maybe a stack of trees and cloth. And that couldn't be the body of a horse big enough to carry a school bus. Like a distant puzzle, the various equine parts snapped slowly into place.

Sleipnir rose unsteadily, legs splaying childishly in every direction as he whinnied ecstatically. With a heave like a building collapsing in reverse, the mighty horse jerked onto his eight uncoordinated limbs. It took a moment for Sleipnir to organise himself enough to lower his head to eye-level and sniff eagerly at the new arrivals. When the scent reached his distant brain, he squealed thunderously and tapped his hooves in an excited ungainly dance.

Loki reached into the stall, catching his son's rocking head and calming him down with a gentle shushing. "Minn burr," he shakily whispered and smiled thinly, "my little slipper." One pale hand could barely cup a single hard cheekbone but Sleipnir enthusiastically leaned into his hold, letting out tiny squeaks that nearly bowled the mortal over.

Bruce hung back awkwardly, looking at the ceiling. Thor had said Sleipnir was enslaved, he thought. What would it have been like for Loki, living here and being helpless to stop Sleipnir being used as a beast of burden? He blinked rapidly and counted the birds sleeping in the rafters to distract himself. How smart is Sleipnir? Jörmungandr could speak, but his other parent had been, Bruce cast about his memory, Angrboða, probably, while his brother's father was definitely a horse.

He glanced over at Sleipnir again. The mountainous creature was trying to wiggle his head under Loki's arms, nearly lifting his skinny mother into the air. His vast body trembled happily, but he kept his head steady and moved with care. Sleipnir wasn't just a clever and mindful horse, he was a clever and mindful person.

Sleipnir's kind eyes drifted over to Bruce and he stilled, snorting with concern into Loki's chest. The mischief god waved the doctor to step into the light.

"His eyesight is poor," he explained quietly. "A side effect of size, I am told."

Bruce crept forwards, keeping his movement exaggerated as he reached out and stroked Sleipnir's broad grey nose. "Can't you fix-"

"No."

Bruce nodded quickly. "Er, how does Odin ri- I mean-"

Loki silently pulled the bridle off the hook beside the stall door. It was the size of a saddle in the god's hands, a shimmering gold with cruel curved studs on the inside. Sleipnir shied away nervously.

"It tears him down to size. I burned it once," he stated flatly, rubbing the metal studs between his finger and thumb. "I was not punished." He pressed down until the hook bit into his hand and began to bleed.

Bruce's heart fell and he felt his fingers tighten in the grey fur. "But Sleipnir was, wasn't he?"

Loki threw the bridle down without warning. The poisonous burning hatred was in his eyes, a look that had wiped out an entire race. "I could kill them all," he whispered so faintly Bruce couldn't be certain he had heard right. Maybe he just didn't want to believe he had. "I am powerful, Seggr. Not strong, perhaps, but powerful. I could ruin Asgard with a wave of my hand-" He stopped.

Sleipnir was crying.

Big, salty tears rolled down from his clouded blue eyes. He couldn't speak, just watch his mother's rage with a sad, heart-broken look.

Bruce took advantage of the opportunity Sleipnir gave him. "We already talked about this, Loki." He stepped forwards warily and lightly grabbed the god of mischief's arm. "Things will never get better if you don't try, you know." Loki stared unseeingly down at the mortal's hand.

"I was the god of change, a long time ago. Change is only a kinder breed of chaos." The sorcerer drew the musty air in deeply, held his breath and released it slowly. "It is a kindness I thought myself incapable of." The pain and rage receded but did not disappear. It's an improvement over genocide, Banner reminded himself. "Can you fix the world, Bruce?"

"N-no, I can't."

Loki smiled. "Good. If you had said anything otherwise, you would have been lying. And I have no respect for a liar." Sleipnir reached through the stall window and lipped his mother's shoulder affectionately. Loki rubbed his nose and kissed his forehead. "Be safe, minn fyl." He reluctantly stepped away and left the stable, Sleipnir's happy neigh following them out.

Night had fallen across the great city. "How long have we been gone?"

"Time is different here," Loki replied tightly, grateful for the distraction."Your friends will not notice our absence."

Bruce went over the day in his mind. There was Jörmungandr, and then- Bruce blushed, and after that was Sleipnir. Thor had mentioned Hel and Fenrir, but neither would be in Asgard.

"What is Die-Dice Acure?"

"Graveyard."

"Oh." Bruce felt the world bubble up and spill out before he could bite down on his tongue. "Váli?"

OhnowhydidIsaythat?

Loki didn't speak for a moment. He looked up at the dark sky with its beautiful stars and heaved a hollow sigh. Banner felt like the world's greatest jerk when he realised the young god's eyes were shining. "Yes."

The crossed the city in silence. Even with night in full swing, Loki kept to the back-ways. Bruce didn't have the heart to question him.

Loki stopped at a solid iron fence and closed his hand hesitantly over a bar, gripping it like he would spiral away into the sky if he didn't have something to hold. It moaned eerily as he pulled it open.

"I think," he said to his feet. "I think that I will do this part alone."

Bruce desperately and unsuccessfully tried to hide his relief. He wanted to be there for Loki, but what could he say? Banner swiftly latched onto the sorcerer's wrist before he could leave. He smiled uncertainly and slipped his hand down to squeeze Loki's cold fingers. "I'll be right here," he promised

The mischief god nodded his head slightly and straightened, pulling himself together. He stepped into the graveyard alone with hardly a tremor.

Bruce had dozed off against the metal gate by the time Loki returned. He was tall and proud again, filled with a new determination to hide his emotions. The doctor didn't speak, just took his hand and waited.

It's getting worse, Bruce reflected as he groaned sickly and braced his hands against his knees. Transdimensional transport, or whatever the hell Loki called it, should become easier with repetition, not- His train of thought derailed entirely as he wretched on the grey stone ground.

He jumped feebly when a someone awkwardly rubbed his back and peered over his glasses with watering eyes. Loki glared at him, daring the mortal to comment, and passed him a skin of water.

When Bruce recovered and his mouth no longer tasted like the inside of a compost heap, he finally looked around. It was desolate and cold with somber, half-built, ice-sheathed construction arched up and disappeared in the low mist. The horizon ended only a few feet away, shrouded by impenetrable fog. It didn't look quite right, though. Banner squinted. If he looked hard enough at one spot, the dreadful colourlessness gave way and a glimmer of vibrant plants broke through. It wavered uncertainly for a few seconds before his eyes teared up and he was forced to blink away the image.

"How does that work?" He demanded out loud, reaching for one of the plants. He felt fine hairs brush his extended fingers but the sensation dissolved like spiderwebs when pressed.

"Helheim is a figment of imagination," Loki raised his arms and flourished dramatically. The bleak scenery swirled away like dirt under a tap, revealing the peaceful green land Banner had glimpsed underneath. "It is a simple illusion."

The frosty building morphed into towering trees, carefully manipulated into a living city. The hanging fog was replaced by blindingly green leaves, shaking in a much warmer breeze.

Bruce toed the dirt and pinched the grass, glancing suspiciously at Loki. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sweet wail of wind through the trees and smell of the hot sun beating down on a ripe field. He hesitantly picked up a fallen twig and cracked it between his teeth, tongue recoiling at the bitter bite of sap. He spat it out and smirked.

"It is not an illusion." The mortal stated confidently and shot Loki a mild glare. He wasn't at all surprised when Loki laughed, barely a hint of anguish or anger left, and gave the doctor an approving nod.

"You trust nothing but your own senses," he chuckled. "I can respect that, dear doctor."

"Actually, I don't- er, trust my senses, that is." Bruce admitted, adjusting his glasses. "You have a tell."

The god of lies looked downright scandalized. "I do not."

"Yes, you do. You look... too observant. You're watching for the reaction."

Loki's eyes narrowed. "A thousand Aesir in a thousand years haven't noticed."

"No, they haven't looked."

Bruce had the feeling that he had passed some sort of test, and that there had been plenty of quizzes he hadn't even noticed. It was exhilarating, in a way, talking with Loki. He had to be clever and observant, quick in his reply but sincere too.

It was also aggravating and exhausting.

The god gestured for the mortal to follow and slipped through the trees. Bruce jogged after him with a fond sigh. He could make out a massive castle ahead made of twisting roots and a trunk nearly as thick as Jörmungandr. It lead down in a deep cave and a cold, cloyingly sweet gust of wind bellowed out from it. The interior of the cavern was almost pitch black, illuminated dimly by glowing engravings in Old Norse along the walls. Loki maneuvered the confusing paths without hesitation, running his left hand over the shining symbols. Bruce curiously ran his fingers across them and was surprised to feel some were colder then the others. They only got colder the deeper they went.

The ceiling vanished into the dark above them and Banner could hear his footsteps echo distantly. Some kind of Great Hall, he figured. Light suddenly flooded the room.

Hel was waiting for them, sitting on a throne of ash wood atop a platform carved into the entrenched roots. Her left side was shiny and bloated, splotched with green, yellow, and purple blots. The hair on the left was stringy and lank while her eye was milked over. The sickly sweet smell came from her.

Her right side was, for lack of a proper word, goddess-like. Beautiful black ringlets fell sensually over a laughing blue eye. Her cheeks were pink and whole, her nose straight and regal. Everything was a mix of innocent curves and harsh angles.

She was wearing a concealing green robe and a delicate crown of mistletoe. She must have her father's stinging wit, to wear mistletoe, Bruce thought dryly with the part of his mind that noticed those sorts of things. He dimly saw Loki approach the throne and pull Hel into a powerful embrace. From that view, Hel's animated face turned to Banner and shining with happiness, her deceased cheek pressed against her father's chest, it looked... normal. The shock of that image shook Bruce out of his thoughts.

He coughed shyly into his hand and smiled when Hel turned to appraise him. "It's nice to meet you," he struggled with a title before lamely finishing off with, "miss." He didn't quite know where to look and ended up watching her nose anxiously. Somehow, Jörmungandr and Sleipnir had been easier.

Hel, like her brothers before her, eyeballed the doctor briefly before dismissing him as a threat. Loki had a knowing little smile that Bruce knew meant he had noticed.

"This is Bruce Banner," Loki said, "a mighty healer warrior of Midgard. Bruce, this is my daughter, Hel."

The only Lokisdottir frowned thoughtfully and squinted at Banner, who reddened and shrugged. Loki quickly added with a laugh, "No, you may not test him."

Hel rolled her eyes in a shockingly Loki gesture. She sat down on the steps to her throne and leaned against the mischief god, resting her head against his shoulder. Bruce swayed uncertainly for a moment before stiffening his spine and sitting on Loki's other side.

No-one spoke for several minutes, Loki alternating between stroking his daughter's head and rubbing her back, before Hel broke the silence. "What's this about?"

Loki turned so he could give Hel a sad and mournful look. "I have never needed a reason before. Have I visited you so rarely?"

It's maybe forty percent faked, Bruce guessed, which is just about as good as honesty with him. The goddess came to the same conclusion and butted the side of her father's neck childishly.

"Of course not! But something's wrong, isn't it, dad?" She pouted slightly, her blue eye glimmering tearfully. When Loki didn't answer, Hel focused on Bruce.

Oh no. She was a master manipulator, just like her old man. From the expression on Loki's face, he was thinking the same thing.

"Well, mighty warrior? What dumb thing is my father up to?" Hel artfully angled her head so the mortal could only see the healthy flush in her pale cheeks, the striking contrast of her ebony curls, the lively red in her lips, the deep blue abyss in her eyes-

"Ask your father." Bruce replied easily.

The sheer human-ish quality to that reply struck the two immortals dumb. Loki laughed first, head thrown back and skinny chest shaking with Hel joining in shortly after.

"Slœgr rekkr," Hel commented teasingly, "but that doesn't answer my question. Dad, please tell me what's going on?"

Another thing Hel had in common with Loki, Bruce thought, is that they both use their emotions to get what they want. They're being honest and open for the sake of manipulation. A dark little voice chimed in from the back of his head; clever.

Loki tucked a few curls behind Hel's ear, hands nearly, but not quite, trembling. He cupped her cheek and smiled thinly before leaning in to whisper softly into her ear.

It suddenly struck Bruce, with the force of a meteorite, that Loki didn't expect to beat Thanos. He was saying goodbye.

Hel's face turned blank alarmingly fast and she nodded sharply. "We can-"

"No." Loki interrupted her kindly. Hel stood abruptly, her robe swirling around her in an angry tempest.

"It is our choice," she hissed, "and if we want to-"

"No." He repeated tonelessly. The god rose slowly to his feet, meeting Hel's fire with cool stubbornness. He looked almost defeated. As though sensing Banner's thoughts, Loki glanced at the doctor and rallied himself. "I'm not telling you, meiðmar, I am begging you."

"Th-that's a dirty trick," Hel muttered wretchedly. She pulled her father into another hug. "You're a horrible, horrible person." Tears dripped off her chin and dampened Loki's shirt. She sniffled for a few moments before pushing the mischief god away. When she spoke again, her voice was brittle and choked. "Off to see Fenrir, then?"

"Yes," Loki said evenly, "after I return the good doctor, of course." He pecked her goodbye on the cheek.

Bruce startled. He had almost forgotten he was even in the room. "I- I can't come with?" He asked, slightly disappointed. He raked his mind for what he knew about Fenrir; imprisoned by gods, supposed to trigger the apocalypse (might not be true and Banner wasn't about to ask), he's a massive wolf- That was about it. Well, he thought determinedly, I'll be damned if I'm sitting out this time. "If it's all the same to you, I'd like-"

Loki swallowed any protest with a quick, searing kiss. Bruce didn't even have the time to blink before he felt the world drain sickeningly away again.

Svartalfheim

Loki stepped lightly into the abandoned realm. It had once been home to the sooty-skinned elves, the dwarves, before their defeat. He wished sometimes that their defeat could have come sooner, before the cruel masters created an unbreakable chain, or maybe later, so he could have had a hand in it.

He could hear the howling already. A wild, ceaseless sobbing that rose and fell erratically, burning a hole in the god's cold heart. Loki picked up his pace, hurrying across the dead land to the center of its greatest fallen city. The crying was louder here, echoing off the stone walls and silent smithies.

There was a wolf in the Gods' Forge, so titanic that he filled the great room. His body was bound by an impossibly thin chain anchored to the forge, forcing him to lie around the ever-burning flames, so near that smoke rose from his singed fur. His head, bent uncomfortably at the neck, pointed out into the hallway. He keened highly, only slightly muffled by a terrible sword holding his jaws open achingly wide.

Fenrir had grown since his imprisonment. The bonds, once mercifully but mindfully slack, cut through his thick black hide and etched bloody grooves in his ragged skin. When the gods had trapped him, he could move his head back and forth to curl up tightly at night. Now, his unending growth forced his head out of the chambers and the hallway closed down over his neck like a garrote.

His blank sage eyes caught sight of Loki and he moaned piteously, struggling to get closer. Loki made a distressed little noise and rushed to his son, stroking the red muzzle comfortingly. His hands trembled as he grabbed the sword and wretched it free. It allowed itself to be drawn out reluctantly, slicing open the roof of the wolf's mouth and biting deep into Loki's palm. Fenrir worked his mouth tiredly, his broad tongue skittering across the new gash as blood spilled down his chin and pooled on the stone floor. Loki tossed the blade callously aside and went back to stroking Fenrir's trembling head. He would have to return the sword before he left, or they would return with something worse. That, in his mind, was a needless but clever cruelty to include; Loki would be forced to hurt his own son every time he visited him.

He rocked the massive head as steadily as he could, murmuring softly in Fenrir's twitching ear. "It won't be forever, minn burr," he swore gently. "The end is fast approaching."

He stood there for hours, tracing reassuring patterns into the wolf's gore-flecked black fur as Fenrir panted harshly and took great heaving sniffs of his father's sharp scent. He eventually fell asleep, nose pressed against the god's stomach. Loki waited for him to wake again before shamefully lifting the sword and guiding Fenrir's mouth open. The wolf flinched but obediently held his cavernous jaw wide and allowed the blade to be wedged in. It sunk several feet into the scarred roof before striking bone with a click.

The god tearfully rubbed his son's cheek, watching the piercing dark green eyes turn agonized and enraged as the whimpers renewed. "When you are free, little fen-dweller, I will finish Tyr off with his own cursed sword." He promised.

Of all Loki's children, Fenrir alone inherited his parent's burning thirst for justice and vindictive nature. There would be a day when the mighty work of the Gods' Forge could no longer hold the mountainous wolf's dark rage and Ragnorak would fall on Asgard.

Loki looked forward to it.

Annarr faðir- another/second father (what was Loki telling him?!)

Dys akr- grave field (grave-yard)

Minn burr- my son

Fyl- foal

Slœgr rekkr- clever man/warrior

Meiðmar- treasire

Hey, remember back in chapter 6 when I said it got away from me some and was 600 words over my norm?

6000, baby.

Sleipnir means 'slippy' or 'slipper', which is just the cutest bloody thing in the world.

Svartalfheim is mostly referred to as Nidavellir, the home of the dwarves. Only Snorri Sturluson, who was rather hilariously bad at being accurate at times and was primarily a lawyer, called dwarves 'black elves'. I figured it could be both, since its obvious which version Marvel uses.

Some people have talked about how they like the bromance and may be disappointed that I went ahead an' turned it into a full-blown romance but I want their relationship to evolve. Bruce wants to understand and maybe even help Loki. It's not physical to him, it can't be. Loki isn't used to this petty human emotion called affection but he does know a thing or two about lust and using his body to complete his goals (like in legend when he turned into a mare to lure Svaðilfari away). It's not really about love for either of them.

Also, haha, sorry for Fenrir.