Recompense [Fólkvangr End, Book 1] [Loki Fanfiction]

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Author's Note: Hey dudes. What's up? How you doin'? I don't know what the point of this note is. I swear I had a point when I started this, but I cannot for the life of me recall what it was. Oh! Note: The translation within the chapter, should you look up what Loki says, is not exactly direct, as it was difficult to translate back and forth without losing a little of the meaning, but regardless of if you look it up, it's a bit...dirty. (: Well! Please, please read and comment below, give me all your lovely thoughts and opinions, I eat them all up and thrive on them. Okay...I've lost it, it's APs and finals time. English Literature AP test tomorrow! Woo! Okay, back to the story. :D

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"I'm pretty sure I didn't sign up to watch you cuddle," Tony Stark's voice blares over his intercom system.

I groan and throw my middle finger up towards the ceiling, "You didn't sign up for anything, Stark."

"Fair enough." The intercom clicks off and Loki stirs, stretching and pawing at me in a positively feline manner. Finally, he relinquishes his hold on me and I am quick to get up.

"How are you feeling?" I ask already busy with folding his clothes strewn across the room. I don't know what it is, but there is a taste of tension in the air. I put the pile onto the chair to figure out what to do with them later. I turn around to pull Loki out of bed but he is already upright, his hand gripping the bedframe for support. He smiles at me and I smile back, just glad that he didn't get worse.

"Well, look at you," I pat him on the shoulder, "already better. I guess this means we are going back sooner rather than later."

Loki's expression darkens and I arch an eyebrow, challenging for an explanation. "I have no intention of returning to Asgard anytime soon."

I grit my teeth, "We'll see about that."

“What is that supposed to mean?” Loki asks leaning over me, trying to subdue me. I laugh in his face.

“Don’t try and be all dark and evil with me. I just dragged you across New York City, nursed your fever and cuddled you because you were cold. Do not fuck with me, Loki,” I smile passive aggressively. He stands back a bit, surprised and then he grasps me by the back of my neck, pulling me to him. He is close, too close, breathing aggressively against my skin. His nose is pressed against my temple as he hisses something in my ear.

“Ég skal fjandanum með þér þó ég eins.”

I can feel his heart pounding rapidly through his chest. “What does that mean?”

He smirks, but simply shakes his head and when he opens his mouth Tony comes crashing into the room, hanging onto the doorframe. “Breakfast time, bitches!...oh.”

I whip around to look at him, putting my hands on my hips. “Are you serious?”

“Well, hey, I can come back later if I’m interrupting something…”

"No," I look back at Loki who is still smirking at me, "no, just some violent flirting."

"Right. Okay, well, regardless of the sexual tension it's still time for breakfast. One can always sort out strategies over bacon and a good Bloody Mary," Tony shrugs before ducking out of the door again.

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“Care to explain why there is a shirtless intergalactic villain in my kitchen?” Tony asks, hardly looking up from his paper.

I groan, “Because I can’t get him to put a damn shirt on, that’s why.”

Loki chuckles as he helps himself to a plate of food. I’ve never seen him so insatiable. But then again, maybe it will do him some good, and put him out of whatever mood he’s decided to be in lately. The whole initiating-my-purpose-as-a-villain-kneel-before-me thing. I clutch the shirt I brought down with me tightly and then force it into Loki’s hand. I give him a look and he submits fairly easily, tossing the shirt on over his head.

“So,” I ask, snatching a strawberry from Loki’s plate, which gets me a very bitter look, “where are the rest of the Avengers? Besides, Thor, of course.”

“Clint and Natasha are working on recruiting for Fury,” Banner answers instead of Stark, having just appeared behind me in the door.

“Cap is…well, I actually don’t know where the American Girl Doll ran off to. He’s developing a rebellious streak,” Tony’s eyes glint with amusement as he informs me. “Of course, we figured we wouldn’t be dealing with the Prince of Darkness again anytime soon, so we’ve been on a bit of a hiatus.”

“Fair enough,” I nod, and then I rush to Loki’s aid as he stares at the microwave. “Nope. Not dealing with you and microwaves. Not going to happen.”

“But…”

“Trust me, I’m saving you here. No microwaves for you. No appliances. Nothing. You needn’t acclimate to Midgardian life because there is no time. We’re getting you home ASAP,” I promise, leading Loki to a chair at the table. He’s significantly improved, and definitely has enough energy to annoy me to no end, but I can see how weak he truly is. There is little remnant of the confident gait, the truly mischievous smile or impossibly elegant posture. He pulls up a chair as far away from Tony as he can manage and then stands there, staring at his food.

“Are you not hungry?” I ask.

Loki’s head snaps up, “I am ravenous.” He looks pissed, but I can’t figure out why. Then I notice his trembling arms as he leans against the chair. He’s much weaker than he’s letting on. I curse under my breath and then strut over to him, trying to help him into his chair, which he surprisingly accepts. Then he holds my arm as I try to get my own seat and he brings my hand to his mouth, kissing it.

“Okay…okay. Well, we have some things to discuss now,” I propose now that everyone seems to be in a pleasant mood. Loki slumps in his seat suddenly, but whether from exhaustion or annoyance I cannot tell. His eyes are distant and his face, other than looking tired and worn, is placid.

“Shoot,” Tony says, looking at me expectantly.

I stare back at me and then slowly point to myself. “Me? I don’t have any more of plan than you do, Tony.”

“It would appear that we do not have a matter to discuss then. Perhaps you would be so kind as to leave me alone with my companion, then,” Loki practically purrs.

“Companion?” Tony arches an eyebrow at me, his face in a state of permanent amusement.

“Loki, I will not hesitate to kill you,” I hiss and he laughs. But his laughter brings him pain and soon I am the one smirking. “Look, is there a way for us to get a message to Thor or Odin?”

Loki looks up at me like I’ve killed the thing he loves most. Which is probably himself, so… “No. And even if there were I would not be divulging that information to the Man of Iron or the Beast.”

I bat my eyelashes, “What about if it were just me?”

“Don’t make that face at me. It has no effect on me, child,” Loki sniffs and returns to poking at his food.

“Loki, you do understand that you are not well, don’t you? You overexerted yourself, and no medicine on Earth is going to help your restore your magic, at least not properly, anyway. So, you need to just trust me and answer my question. Is there a way to contact Asgard without the Bifrost?”

Loki stares at me a moment before nodding. He opens his mouth but whatever the thought, it is interrupted by a mighty crashing coming from the rooftop. Tony hops out of his chair faster than I’ve yet seen him move.

“Sir, there appears to be a disturbance on the rooftop,” the robotic voice chimes in. I look at Loki whose face has fallen even further into some sort of state of despair. He grips the arms of his chair tightly.

Tony rolls his eyes, “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.”