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Your POV

The agents have gathered around a bonfire to cook a little dinner for the group and I've emerged from a tent in a fresh shirt and clean hands. I could've been more prepared if I was told in advance that I would be needed in the field to fight alongside. Where are Thor, Steve, Clint and Mr. Stark though?

I pass by a couple of agents and ask them where Loki is rested, and they point at a tent that's not far from the edge. I thank them and proceed to where he is. I stop in front of the entrance and compose myself before peeking inside. He's rested on two sleeping bags, asleep and shirtless with his waist wrapped in a thick layer of gauze. I bend over to enter the rather small space and crouch down to check up on his condition. He's sweating an awful lot and it's probably making it hard for him to relax in this humidity.

I notice a small basin at the corner containing a damp towel and I take it out, wringing the towel of water before dabbing his forehead gently with it.

Oh Loki, what motivated you to take the blow? I'll never know what and why. I wipe the sides of his neck softly, moving to his collarbone and down to his bare chest to free it of sweat. After a few, gentle dabs on his arms, I put the towel back in the basin and set it aside. I rise up a little with my body still bent and prepare to walk out until,"Stay." A raspy yet weak voice says and I turn around to look at him.

I didn't wake him up, did I?

"Did I disturb you? " I ask, my voice small. A soft smile ghosts upon his lips and he shakes his head slowly. "A little but, it's all good." Am I hearing this correctly though? Is he wanting company?

He arches his messy brows at me and prompts, spurring me into staying. I give in and pop a squat beside him.  "I will never get you, I swear." I comment with a ridiculous smile.

"Why do you say that? "

"For one, I thought an Asgardian's body is able to take such a hit and two, " I swallow the lump in my throat all the while trying to adjust to the confining space of the tent, "why did you do that? " Regarding the 'Asgardian' thing, don't get me wrong. I just want to act as if I don't know the truth of what he is to hear him say it himself.

He mouth twitches into a crooked smile before replying. "For one...I'm not Asgardian," glad he finally said it himself, "and two– I couldn't just let you die." I disregard the latter and focus on his admission.

"You're not Asgardian? " I ask naively.

"I am by citizenship, but not by blood." He shifts his hands onto his chest and crosses them. "You were right to doubt my familial relationship with Thor. I'm not his brother 'cause I'm adopted." I put my knees up to my chest and hug them, wanting to know a bit more of his story to compensate for all the pain he's feigned. "I'm really sorry to hear that."

He looks up and licks his bottom lip. "It's alright. It just hurts to know that I've been nothing more than a political pawn used by Odin to keep the peace with Jotunheim."

I shift closer to his side. "You're...one of them, right? The Jotuns? " I try to not make it seem like I'm forcing the question upon him.

He nods sadly. "As children, we were taught that they were malicious and had ill-intentions, that they were
to be feared. Upon hearing my father– Thor's father really– reveal my true parentage, everything just came crumbling down on me." I hear his voice break a little at the end and my heart begins to weep for him.

He sighs and goes on. "Of course, he never wanted me to inherit the throne. He never wanted a Jotun to sit on his throne and so growing up, I've always lived in Thor's shadow. He was praised whilst I was looked down upon by the rest. Nevertheless, I still loved my brother despite of the envy that had risen in my heart. But through that envy, I crashed his coronation, got him banished to Earth and nearly claimed the throne for myself. I think I made him truly hate me. Yet I never wanted the throne in the first place," he sniffles a tad and resumes, "I only ever wanted to be his equal."

I must've guessed right then. Behind that facade of cunningness and mischief is a young boy just wanting to be loved so dearly. He might act like nothing's wrong and that he's enjoying the chaos he's caused but really, something has plunged critically into his heart and that thing's what his father made him feel and believe about himself. That he has no other worth to him or to anybody since he's merely a chess piece taken in to keep some treaty alive.

In my earliest observations, I thought he was just another pestering villain who deserves to be taught a lesson but now, I see him differently. He's vulnerable though he may come off as egoistic and cold. He's utterly broken and stepping on his own shards, injuring him all the more.

But even if their father doesn't see him as worthy, I know someone else who does.

I look down and without hesitation, place my hand over his, taking him by surprise. "Your father may not seem to truly love you...but your brother does."

He looks at me with baffled eyes and swallows. I brush my thumb over his knuckles softly and explain. "Don't you see? All that Thor's been doing while you are kept here on Earth. He looks after you, accompanies you when you seem to feel lonely, makes sure you have everything you need in that cell, and even bothers to cheer you up with his terrible jokes just to see his brother smile again. He loves you so much, Loki, despite all the mayhem you've caused. He loves you so much that he didn't want to take you back to Asgard right away, knowing that you would be put to trial once you step foot into the place. He stays behind missions just to keep you company. He's shown how much he loves you dearly."

His mouth quivers a little, trying to come up with something to say. "He told you that?"

"I've noticed a whole lot of what he does for you." I smile softly at him and he brings his free arm over his head and sniffles.

"I think being stabbed lowered my immunity to bursting into tears." He chuckles sadly and I don't hesitate to lift his arm away from his face and wipe his tears. The god of mischief, the one who claims to be invulnerable to futile emotions, is tearing up and it actually pains me to see him like this.

I don't know if this is just some kind of manipulation he's pulling off or not but I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt on this one. The guy needs some comforting. He doesn't flinch as I wipe his tears away with my thumb and instead rests his hand over mine that's cupping his cheek. He entwines his fingers with mine and nuzzles my hand close, making my heart skip a beat.

I remain wordless as I gaze down at his vulnerability. I honestly don't know how to react to this.

"Loki..."

"Please stay for a bit."

"But I-"

"Please... "It's almost as if he's begging. Oh goodness, what am I supposed to do? I sigh and sit next to him, looking away as his fingers remain around mine. "Please look at me." He pleads quietly and I collect myself before turning my head to look at him.

He's dripping wet from the sweat that's newly formed. His hair is quite a mess and his emerald eyes look exhausted but are glimmering with a speckle of hope.

"Thank you though." I say softly.

"For what? "

"For saving my life...twice." He smiles unevenly at me and nods. "It's the least I could do for...showing me how to be a good mentor."

I chuckle at his choice of words. "In what way did I ever do so? "

"Your determination, spirit and faith that I am capable of something more."

"I always believed you'd do great even when I wanted to light your butt on fire for all the pestering." He laughs heartily at my comment and sighs. "They don't call me the god of mischief for nothing, Lady Y/N."

"It's too late for formalities, your highness."

"And who has tagged along with the formalities?" He replies in a witty manner and I toss my head back, smiling. "I should get us something to eat. Are you hungry? " I ask.

"I'm famished. Thank you." He nods courteously and I get up, dusting my knees. "I'll be back. Don't you run off."
I playfully warn him and he hoists his hands up in defense, chuckling. "I think you can trust me on that note."
I return the favor with another smile and walk out of the tent.

Man,  that was some talk. I caress the hand he held and bite my lower lip, pondering deeply at what I felt after that.

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