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Chapter Text

(1) Gungnir: Spear that Odin used.

(2) Ergi: Nordic word meaning literally effeminate or unfit male.

(3) All-Tongue: It's a language in which, what is said, is understood by each species in its own native language.

(4) Silvertongue:  Nickname received by Loki thanks to his mastery of rhetoric and the ability he demonstrates to always know what to say in a given situation.

Darkness, it was everything Loki could see. It was so thick that it consumes everything and so deep that he did not know where the darkness ended and he started.

When Loki let go of Gungnir(1), he had been prepared to die, but what he did not predict, was that his magic kept him alive, condemning him to wander through the space between the worlds, falling into an interminable motion.

He was a monster, and his sentence was established by that void; he was going to be consumed little by little until all that was left of him was nothing more than a glimpse of life, the shell of what was once a man.

He falls for so much time that even this one lost its meaning. It was in that void that he thought he had lost what little sanity he had left. Until he forgot that there was once light, touch or happiness.

He who no longer had a name or soul wondered how he had arrived at this point? How was it that everything had gone so wrong?

Having already lost all hope, suddenly something changed.

The speed of his fall, which had been a constant throughout all this time, began to accelerate and an unbearable heat hit his senses, when before he had only felt a gelid cold.

Then came the blow, one so strong and strident that he thought he had died at last.

An intense and painful light penetrated his eyes. They were not used to anything other than darkness.

It was there that he realized he was still alive, he could still feel pain, and death, he had supposed, would have ended his torment.

"Where am I?" He thought.

When he regained his vision, he could see a large crater surrounding him, and outside it a glimpse of a sandy wasteland.

He lay there for a long time, still stunned by the blow.

When he felt the thin mist that covered his thoughts disperse, he felt more able to assess his situation.

It caught his attention to discover that he could not feel anything below his neck. It was as if the muscles and skin that once formed part of his body, no longer existed. Still, he tried to move them, only to reaffirm their complete uselessness.

He knew what that meant, he must have broken his spine. Not feeling parts of your body has never been a good sign.

He realized that he was not terrified of being paralyzed, as he should have. Maybe the fall had affected his nerves too?

Continuing with his analysis, he remembered that he was carrying a bag of provisions tied to his body but quickly realized that not being able to reach them was the same as having nothing.

"Well, sustenance is not a possibility then," Loki thought.

Without having anything better to do, he concentrated again on his surroundings.

According to his position, he had a direct view towards the sky, which he noticed, was of a bluish atmosphere.

"I guess I'm lucky, I could have landed somewhere worse, someplace without oxygen for example… "

He tried to guess the name of the realm he was in.

"Vanaheim, perhaps? No, the gravity force is not the same. Svartalfheim? No, the type of soil is different"

In the distance, almost out of his angle of vision, he could glimpse some vegetation. It was far from abundant and it was almost dry, but he recognized it as Midgardian.

"Such irony! Landing on the same planet to which my brother was banished... "

His train of thought inevitably veered to that place that had once called his home and the people who in another life had been his family.

"Nobody will ever find me here. Surely, they think I'm dead…"

It was not as if that reflection distressed him. The truth was that Loki had no desire to see them, he felt that at last, he had finished with them. Even if he could come back, he would not be welcome, that was never his home, to begin with.

When Loki let go Gungnir, he had made the decision to die because he thought there was nothing left for him in Asgard. All his life he had tried to fit in, to be what his father and his people expected, but his nature invariably got in the way. He always knew there was something wrong with him, only that he was not sure what it was.

He could never reach his expectations, and, many despised him for it. He tried to change, to be like most, but later than sooner, he realized that no matter how hard he tried, he would always be different in their eyes.

That revelation awoke an intense aversion against his people. He proposed to himself to make pay everyone who had despised him. He was going to show everyone that he was not someone that could be taken lightly, he was not going to be mocked by anyone.

His personality then changed. He began to withdraw into himself and in his studies of magic. On the outside, he acquired the facade of someone aloof and controlled, but on the inside, he was someone suspicious and distrustful. He turned rhetoric into a weapon against anyone who confronted him and planned discreet revenge against those brave enough to become his enemy.

Soon, rumors began to spread. They called him many things, including the god of deceit, god of bad luck, and even Ergi(2)

The problem in this kind of situation is that if a person is told something for a sufficient amount of time, there comes a point where inevitably a part of him begins to believe what is being affirmed. And Loki despite all his apathy, was not indifferent to this rule. He became his reputation.

And then, he started to play a role, he was always good at that. However, where did the performance end and the real Loki begin? He did not know it anymore. After a while, the role was already part of his personality.

At this point, even the close relationship with his not-brother was affected.

Thor was someone bright and loved by everyone, everything that Loki would never be and that made him win his most complete grudge. He did not want to be just a shadow, the dark part that was projected from all that light.

Thor, in spite of all his virtues, was, in fact, a blind person. He never saw the true origin of his brother's hatred and when faced with his negative change of personality, he simply walked away.

All this resentment finally settled on the day of the coronation and all the events that would later be unleashed.

Loki recognized himself, that when he discovered his true origin, he had completely lost it. He felt such a deep hatred against the world and against himself that he had even gone so far as to want to exterminate an entire race, only to prove that he was not one of them.

“Well, there was no point in thinking about that. Those were reminiscences of someone else, a person who had been lost forever in the void”

He stayed there for a long time, in that forgotten wasteland. He hoped that by then his magic would have healed him, but it was not the case. He felt it flutter inside him, but he could not call it, it was as if it simply refused to make his appearance.

"Maybe my magic, like me, does not see any purpose in healing me," he reflected. "It's possible that it thinks that by not doing so, it's doing the universe a favor.

I should have died in that void. Actually, I should have perished in Jotunheim, in that temple where I was left by Laufey to rot. Everything must have ended there. It would have been a suitable destine for a monster like me"

Loki lost track of time, stopped counting the times when the sun hid in the sky and re-emerged. His time was spent between conscious spaces and moments vanished in dreams, so much so that it was difficult to differentiate when he was sleeping and when he was awake.

"How long will it take me to die without water or food?" He thought rambling. But far from being afraid, his speculations were no more than a morbid curiosity.

"Well, it does not matter, the only certainty I have is that I'm going to die, that's the only fate that awaits me."

The inevitability of the end made him think of his own life and the paths that led him to his current situation.

At first, when analyzing his circumstances, he had blamed his family for his fall into the abyss, he believed that due to his deceptions and injustices, his actions had triggered him to lose all hope and decide to let go.

"They tossed me into the abyss" He had thought.

But after repeating it so much in his head, that argument began to lose consistency, until something in his heart told him that that was not the whole truth.

"Well, if I'm going to die, it would be good if for once, I could show myself honest… even if it was only with myself"

The truth, it was time to stop justifying himself. He was not a child anymore for continue to burden his failure to others.

It is true that in the beginning the contempt and hatred of others led him astray, but at the end of the day, it was his own decisions that marked his destiny. He was responsible for his actions, nobody else.

"How strange to be rambling like this… In Asgard, I never gave myself the time to analyze my feelings in this way. How ironic that I had to stay paralyzed to find the necessary calm, which would allow me to give some sense to this tangle of thoughts" Loki said with a touch of humor.

 The days piled up one after the other when he noted it. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the silhouette of a man, a Midgardian who watched him, hidden from one of the grooves of the crater.

"Has he come to kill me?" Loki thought. "Well, it wouldn't be too bad, on the contrary, it would accelerate a process which otherwise, will be agonizingly slow."

But the man just stared at him from afar, analyzing him.

After what seemed to be a long time, he finally seemed to gather his courage and left his hiding place, stopping without further ado in front of Loki's limp body.

Once in his direct line of sight, Loki could have a better look at his appearance. The Midgardian wore a primitive outfit composed of skins and leathers. His torso was naked, but a splendid cloak covered his shoulders, probably from an animal he had hunted himself. His boots were tied with bows that reached up to his knees, and in his belt, he wore a dagger that looked of iron, which he grasped from the handle, without wielding it, as if he were undecided as to whether he should use it or not.

The man and Loki looked at each other curiously and then, to the surprise of the second, the Midgardian extended his hand.

"Hello, my name is Tony from the Stark clan. I don't know who you, are and, I really don't think you're from around here because of your clothes. Why have you been there so long without moving? Are you a god? A demon? Several days, ago I, saw that something fell from the sky, and I heard a big blow. Was that you? Can you even understand a word of what I'm saying?"

Thanks to the All-Tongue(3), Loki could understand him perfectly, however, he stared at the man in a daze. After having spent days in the most complete silence, his senses did not appreciate the apparent talent that this man possessed (Stark, his brain provided), to expel such amount of words in what seems only a second.

When he had gathered his wits again, Loki chose one of the questions and answered.

“I am not a God, maybe I was one at another time, but that person no longer exists. If you come to kill me, I will not stop you, on the contrary, you would do me a big favor," Loki said in a neutral tone.

"Kill you? Why would I do that?" Tony said with strangeness "You haven't done anything to me. Unless… Tell me, are you a threat?" He said suspiciously.

A bitter, resigned laugh made its way down his throat. "Even if I wanted to, I could not. I'm completely paralyzed, I can't move and I doubt I'll ever do it again"

Tony was silent for a moment.

"And if you could?" He finally said.

"If I could what?" Loki snapped confused.

"If you could hurt me, would you do it?"

Loki looked at him bewildered. If he had complete control of his body and strength, would he attack him? Would he kill the one who had witnessed his weakness? Would he end the life of this person without much consideration, as if it were just an annoying insect? “Maybe the person I was before wouldn't have thought twice, but now…“

"No… I wouldn't," he replied, after a long pause.

Tony then looked at him, scrutinizing his face with piercing eyes. Seeking that truth that he believed words could elude.

"All right, I believe you," He said after he finished his exam.

Loki flinched like someone had given him a slap in the face. Nobody before had released those words so lightly. He had earned the title of the God of lies and had become accustomed that everything that came out of his mouth was put in doubt. For a person to give him his trust that easily, was not something he was used to experiencing.

Tony for his part, remained indifferent to the great surprise of his interlocutor. To have been able to leave without words at the famous silvertongue(4), was a feat of which he remained completely ignorant.

"Well, ‘ex-god’ Tony said "Are you're going to tell me your name? If you don't want to, it doesn't matter, I have a talent for nicknames and just by looking at you I already have several prepared…"

"It's Loki," He said interrupting. He was sure that any of these "nicknames" would be at the lowest, exasperating and/or humiliating.

"A pleasure to meet you. So… tell me how could you have fallen from the sky?"

Loki was tempted to simply tell him that it was none of his business. He had always been a reserved person and this man hoped that just by asking, he would be willing to tell him each of his secrets. But he was just too tired… and besides, just thinking about a rhetorical battle with this man made his head throb.

And then with a sigh, Loki told him about his origins and his fall, to then explaining how, by complete chance, he had ended up colliding with the planet earth. It was a rather undetailed and brief account of the events, spoken in a disinterested tone, almost mechanical.

However, ignoring any reluctance on Loki's part, Tony did not refrain from interrupting him with questions of all kinds, which Loki responded by Olympically ignoring all inquisition about the reasons that had triggered his fall in the first place.

Tony showed special curiosity about his extraterrestrial culture, and then Loki agreed to tell him about Asgard, his people, and advances. He talked about their customs and discoveries. He tried to describe those unique landscapes and in doing so, it was as if he were there again. His story then acquired a somewhat melancholic tone, and the shadow of a great sadness threatened to envelop him, but then, as he caught a glimpse of the amazed face of his spectator, with astonishment, he realized that those feelings began to recede.

"Wow!" Tony said "All this is amazing! Another planet! What you call technology! Magic! I can’t even imagine it. Would it be possible for humans to ever achieve such advances? I Hope so.

You see, I'm an inventor. Through my creations, I have tried to improve the life status of my tribe, but the truth is that there is not much I can do when we are dying of hunger and thirst.

For a long time, my people and I have been fighting for our survival, but I am sorry to say that things are not favorable for us. Diseases, lack of food and water, keep my tribe on the verge of disappearance. 

But, I guess I should not complain, everywhere is the same, there are people with even worse luck than ours…"

That last sentence surprised Loki.

"Why do you say that everywhere is the same? Is the earth going through a period of crisis?"

"Period of crisis… It is a way of putting it" Tony said sitting next to him as if suddenly a great weight had settled on his shoulders "I don't know if you have noticed, but we are not standing on a very fruitful ground. Where you look is dry and sterile, but the issue is that it is not just here. However far I've come, or explorers I've asked, it's the same everywhere, there's only scarcity.

With my tribe, we have come to the conclusion that we are witnessing the death of the earth. The elderly, says that with each generation is worse, they assure that a time will come when everything will dry completely, which will mean the extinction of life, animals and humans alike.

Distressed for the inevitability of that prediction, I have dedicated my life to trying to find a solution to this problem, but I have not yet found anything.

Looking for information, on one of my trips, I found some old writings. They speak of the land of before, one teeming with water and food, a world where people had their needs met and a large culture.

In their records, you can see precisely when things started to change. There was a phenomenon that they called ‘the warming of the globe’, a generalized drought that began to spread to all corners.

Once it had begun, it could not be stopped and soon humanity witnessed a process that although slow, left only death around it.

Soon, what remains of humanity began to panic. Wars were unleashed by the supremacy of the few resources they had, only causing more people to perish.

The records end there, abandoned.

My theory is that after the wars, little was left. Humanity survived but barely, and those who remained had to start over, create a new society with the remains. That's why, if we ever had technology like the one you describe, it doesn't exist anymore"

Upon hearing this, Loki felt a twinge of visceral pain in his chest. It took several disconcerting moments to identify it as empathy.

"I… I didn't know" It was all he could say

"It's ok, it's not your fault"

But it wasn't? Loki had been a prince of Asgard, that meant he had sworn to protect all it vassal kingdoms. This, of course, included the earth.

How it was possible that he hadn't find out about their situation before? It was not as if he had cared much at that time, but he hadn't heard anyone from Asgard even mention the matter.

Did Odin know? It seemed unlikely that he would remain ignorant. But why hadn't he done something then? “Maybe he just didn't care” whispered a small voice inside his head.

The one that should have known, was Thor. When he was banished, he had to have had witnessed the human dilemma. But it is not as if he had discussed with Thor his experience on earth. After his exile, they only saw themselves again in the Bifrost, and not precisely just for conversation, but to face each other in that final battle, whose result led him to let go of Gungnir and fall into the void.

But it was not worth thinking about that. Nothing good could come from reliving the past, or from asking questions that would probably never be answered. He decided then to focus on more present matters.

He still felt that lingering sense of empathy nagging him. It wasn't common for him to succumb to that emotion, it was never an impulse that came naturally in him and yet there it was, stinging him straight in the chest.

He had to do something about it, it was becoming really unbearable… And at that moment he remembered it.

"Stark, you said your tribe is starving, right? Do you see a bag that is tied to my hip? There you will find some food. I remember that there are vegetables and some bread. That bread is a special one, it is designed to make an Asgardian recover his strength and be able to keep up for several days, I suspect that for a human it would be even longer. It is not much, given that it is intended for a single individual, but I think it could help"

Stark's face lit up suddenly full of joy, but then he looked at Loki and his expression changed to one of apprehension.

"And what about you? You said you couldn't move, so that means you haven't eaten anything, right? Just wait, I will reach for something… "

"No," Loki said, with a hard voice that stopped him in his tracks "It would be a waste. You could feed me now but what good would it do? it would only prolong the inevitable. If I can't move, how am I going to fend for myself? How can I obtain sustenance in a realm that is already austere? No… it is better that you bring all the food to your people"

"Oh no! I'm not going to have any of that!  Right now I'm going to give you a portion of that bread and I'm going to feed you with it myself. And if you don't want to, I'm going to… poke you in the face with a stick until you get tired and end up yielding. If this becomes a battle of attrition, I have everything to gain, I have all the time in the world. I can keep up until you end up surrendering just for how annoying I can be"

Loki didn't plan it, it just slipped out of his mouth, a loud laugh that made him feel dizzy. This was not an ironic smirk like the one he usually dedicated to the people of the court in Asgard. This was a sincere laugh, in its purest state. A rich sound, which at that time it was impossible for him to contain.

When was the last time he had laughed like that? He honestly couldn't remember.

When he had recovered from his outburst, he tried to compose his face in one of seriousness but still could be noticed a dim treacherous light of fun that danced in his eyes.

"I have the feeling that you are someone who is not used to receiving negatives, yes?"

"I do receive negative, it's just that I decide not to pay them attention," Tony said with a smug smile on his face.

"Very well Stark," Loki said after a moment "I'll let you feed me this time if you wish, but I have not changed my mind, I still maintain the futility of this agreement"

Stark then proceeded with care, to remove the food from the bag and to deposit portions of food on the cracked lips of Loki.

When he had finished, he left to his tribe, but not before giving Loki the vehement promise of his return.

After that unexpected encounter, Loki felt lightheaded, with a strange sensation in his face, a slight tingling, especially in the places where Tony had touched him. Could it be… contentment?  He considered it and then shook his head. "Sentimental nonsense." he thought.

Chapter Text

After the meeting, Loki could not stop thinking about Stark. He remembered the Midgardian with that ingenious eloquence and that irritating impetus. Surprised, he realized that he had really enjoyed his company.

How much time had passed since his departure? Loki had no idea; however, it did not matter, he was sure, Stark was not going to come back.

After all, why would he? Everything that Loki could have given him, he had already taken it, whether it was food, knowledge or just having been able to satisfy a whim.

But far from feeling resentful, Lok just felt grateful. While he lay alone in that bare wasteland, the fact of recalling their conversation had given him a pleasant distraction for those monotonous hours that crawled slowly, accumulating one after the other.

That man had taken him out of that apathy he felt had consumed him little by little. It seemed to him that although small, that gesture had allowed him to be something more than a being that although alive, had considered himself already dead.

He was convinced that Stark was not going to return, and it was for this reason that his heart skipped a beat, when suddenly he heard sounds of footsteps approaching and then that unmistakable figure appearing before his eyes. 

“Stark!”

“Yeah! one and the same. Why so surprised? I said I was going to come back, didn’t I? And call me 'Tony' please! We are friends, and they are referred to on a first name basis.”

"Friends?" Loki said.

"Of course! We have even shared food together if that is not friendship, I do not know what it is" Tony said, with a smile of fun.

He then approached the still amazed Loki, and then looking directly into his eyes he said this time in a serious way.

"The bread you gave us did wonders for my people. Thanks to it we were able to reach new recollection sectors, many of which we couldn't before because of our fatigue and weakness. Those people who were sick, recovered from ailments that we thought were mortal. We had never felt so strong. All thanks to you! On behalf of my tribe, you have my most sincere gratitude" he said, putting one knee on the floor, then bowing deeply.

Loki was far from considering himself a humble person. He was never an individual who showed too much modesty when talking about his achievements, or someone who had reservations to monopolize the attention of people willing to exalt his virtues.

But now, seeing the enormous esteem and gratitude that Tony was giving him, he only felt a huge discomfort. There was something in that speech that made him feel enormously anxious, an emotion that, coincidentally, seems a lot like mortification.

Stark spoke of him as if he were a hero as if he had saved the life of his tribe in a brave and disinterested act. But Loki was not a hero, he was many things, but that title was definitely not among them.

All he had done was to give something that from the beginning, he had considered lost. There was no sacrifice. He had not done any extraordinary or honorable feat that deserved such acknowledgment.

"Get up," Loki snapped, unable to express his confusion in anything other than irritation. "No need to kneel, I didn't do anything..."

"Of course you did!" Tony said interrupting him "It may have seemed a small gesture for you, but it meant the world to us. I don't give my thanks to just anyone, so just accept it, okay? God! You're even more stubborn than me and that's saying something!" Tony said irritably.

A voice in his head told Loki that he ought to be offended by the nerve of this man, but it was immediately stifled by a sense of fun that arose from witnessing that irreverent and brazen attitude. Definitely Stark had some mischief inside him.

"Speaking of gratitude," Tony continued cheerfully "I have a present for you."

Loki watched as he walked away, to appear moments later with a curious object, a kind of transport that pushed to position in his direct line of sight.

Being able to appreciate it in detail, Loki noticed its structure: It was built with wooden framework, being possible to glimpse two circular blocks on each side accompanied by an axis and in its middle part, a support that made the base for a seat.

It took him a few seconds to recognize it but when he did it, he felt as if his breathing had frozen. In Asgard, they were not common and its design was something primitive, but there was no doubt... it was a wheelchair.

But how was that possible? From what Tony had told him about this realm, the available technology was almost nil. They had not yet invented the wheel and, therefore, the concept of "vehicle" was even more foreign.

"I designed it and everyone in the tribe helped to build it. We have never done anything like this, but what can I say? I am a genius. Also, being able to talk to you, gave me many ideas for its construction"

Was this for him? Had those of the tribe put all that effort into inventing something completely new just so he could move again? That meant he was going to be able to leave this place, stop being a complete invalid! An aid that, although it did not completely solve his situation, gave him an opportunity to survive.

He felt a knot settle in his throat and a strange emotion overwhelmed him, one that made his eyes itch and his chest contract. Was it a surprise? fear? joy? Loki supposed it was a bit of all of them.

Tony helped Loki position himself in his new chair and together, they emerged from the crater. Once positioned, he could see the landscape that surrounded him, for the first time since his fall.

What he witnessed was far from being a beautiful sight. It was a place too sterile, almost a desert and yet Loki thought it was impressive.

He saw how the dawn arose behind the imposing mountains and that sky of incredible blue color that stretched across the horizon. He closed his eyes, feeling the soft rays of sunlight caressing his face and the sound of the wind rippling on the sand. Everything seemed new, unreal. He felt as if he were a blind man seeing for the first time, or perhaps like a prisoner who has been granted the freedom that he had thought irretrievably lost.

Loki opened his eyes and felt over him the silent gaze of Tony resting on his face. In it, he noticed an almost palpable joy, a satisfaction that was also reflected in a small but sincere smile.

"Thank you..." Loki said in a mutter, one so soft that if he had not been close enough, Tony probably would not have heard it. It was a simple term, but Tony could appreciate in it all the veracity and the sincerity that it contained.

"Let's go, the tribe is waiting for us"

Together they left then, to a new beginning.

Chapter Text

The road was hard due to the steep terrain and the limitations of his wheelchair, but in less time than he thought, Loki saw in the distance a small settlement composed of several tents arranged in a circular way. He saw it in the middle of a hollow, in a clearing hidden among the mountains.

When they arrived at the camp, Loki suddenly visualized several people gathered. They were standing near the entrance, motionless as if they were waiting for something to happen.

The small crowd, seeing them appear, seemed to brisk and then moved by a sudden impetuous clamor, exploded in a thunderous round of cheering.

They clapped with vehemence and shouts echoed among the people. Some children tried to approach the newcomers with an innocent curiosity and the adults greeted them waving their arms in enthusiastic gestures.

Loki's first thought was that Tony should be very famous to be received that way by his tribe, a kind of hero among them. But when the dwellers completely bypassed Tony, directing all the attention to him, Loki couldn't contain in his face, a look of genuine and total surprise.

The elders were the first to approach him. They gave him the most warm welcome.

“If you choose it, you can stay and live with us. You are part of the tribe” They assured him.

Then, the other members approached. Loki saw a parade of faces, all with friendly smiles, expressing the utmost respect and cordiality. Some patted his shoulder (apparently forgetting that he was unable to feel it) and others came personally to voice their sincere gratitude.

Loki was unable to articulate any word during the whole process. He just stood there, looking at everyone with his mouth open, immersed in the most supreme bewilderment.

He only came out of his reverie, when Tony began to laugh softly, apparently, mocking his shocked face. Loki, finally reacting, fixed him with one of his best angry glares.

Interrupting what presaged to be an incipient argument, suddenly, a teenager came forward. He was a young man with an affable face and an agile body. At that moment, a light of admiration radiated directly from his eyes.

"Oh! Wow, You're 'He', I can't believe you're actually here. I am very excited! I see that you are using the artifact that we built, has it worked well? I also helped in its construction! I hope not to bother you, but I simply can't contain myself, I have to ask: are you capable of doing magic? That would be pretty awesome! I'm so honored I..."

"Hey kid! just breathe."

"Oh, ye...yes, Mr. Stark! Sorry. I'm Peter, from the Parker clan" The male child seemed to be overly nervous around Stark. Maybe he idolized him.

"I just came to thank you," Continued the boy, more calmly. "You saved my uncle's life. He was very sick. The healers told me there was nothing else to do, but then, thanks to the food you gave us, he recovered completely!

I wanted to tell you, that I will be there for whatever you need. I owe you a debt of gratitude and I will do everything possible to repay you” He said very seriously with a brief bow.

Debt? Loki found himself bewildered again, but this time, it did not take him by surprise. He prepared in his head a scathing comment, determined to make the boy desist that ridiculous notion.

He opened his mouth to speak, but just at that moment, Tony sensing what was coming, with a sudden movement, quickly push Loki's wheelchair, moving it away from the place.

"Come, I want to introduce you to someone," Tony said, trying to hold back a smile.

He signaled in the distance and then a woman approached, appearing from the crowd.

"She is Pepper Potts, one of my greatest friend. "

"I finally meet you, Tony has talked a lot about you," She said in an affable way.

“Nothing good, I gather” Loki said, with a snort.

"Humm, in fact, it's the opposite. Since Tony arrived, he has not stopped talking about you, naming how fantastic and wonderful it was to meet you and how terribly handsome..."

"Wow, wow! surely Loki does not want to hear that..." Tony said, with a nervous laugh and a slight blush on his cheeks.

With a mischievous smile, Pepper ignored him completely.

“Besides, Tony is not who to speak badly about anyone, you would be impressed by the number of crazy things he has done and from which I personally have had to rescue him...”

"If you permit it, I would really like to continue later this conversation about these 'crazy things' you talk about," Loki said amused.

"Fantastic! You have known each other for what? 5 minutes? And you are already planning to have fun at my expense. I think that this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, you are going to get along just fine!" Tony said, irked.

"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Lady Pepper" Loki said and surprised himself by not hearing a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

At that moment, he realized that it was not just her, he had actually enjoyed meeting all that lunatic group of people who were part of this tribe.

All of them, with that enthusiastic disposition, had received him without reservations, as an equal. They did not care if he was paralyzed, or even that he was not human. They had offered him a place to call home.

A very faint expression like a smile flickered around his mouth and something in his eyes softened slightly.

Tony, who chose precisely that moment to pose his eyes on him, was suddenly unable to avert his gaze.

"Wow!" He thought, "That expression looks very nice on him."

Stunned, he was suddenly invaded by a sudden certainty.

"I want to see that smile again... maybe one day I'll achieve, to put it back on his face again..."

After that fervent reception, the people of the tribe, prepared for Loki one of the tents and they endeavored to supply it with everything necessary for his stay.

The tribe had decided (with no room for protest), that they would take care of him. Peter had volunteered as well and assisted him in his daily tasks, offering his help and support.

Even Pepper went regularly to verify that everything was in order, taking care of the distribution of his food and ensuring his comfort.

Tony, for his part, visited him daily in his new home. He even convinced him to take him regularly, on quiet morning walks. He pushed the wheelchair while both were engaged in extensive and invigorating conversations.

They talked about the most diverse subjects and despite coming from different worlds, Loki found himself enjoying enormously the company of a man who rivaled him in wit and eloquence.

Loki began to look forward to those visits, surprised by the ease with which they fell into a pleasant routine.

Time passed. Far away were those first lonely days in the empty sand.

Loki had helped and had been rewarded with the first true friendship of his entire life.

He realized that, for the first time in a long time, even more than he could remember, he really felt free.

Despite the irony of being trapped in a paralyzed body, he felt that freedom filling him completely as if something in him has loosened as if someone had opened a new window inside of him.

He felt as if fate had given him the chance to live a new life, one in which he was allowed to be what he wanted to be and not only what others expect of him.

In this reality, he was not a prince, not a son, not a brother; not even a being consumed by the abyss. Here, there were no unfulfilled expectations or roles to play.

This was a world, where he could begin to heal those fissures that for years he had seen opening little by little into his conscience.

With a gentle pulse of warmth radiating from his chest, Loki knew exactly what he had been given: The opportunity to start over.

Chapter Text

(1) Norns:  Are female beings who rule the destiny of gods and men. 

Thanks to Loki's bread, the tribe with its recent vitality, managed to stock up as it had not done for a long time. Before the food was barely enough to survive, now instead, they even managed to secure supplies for days to come, managing their food in a fair distribution system that benefited all the members.

But nothing is predestined to be eternal and soon the tribe was faced with a great dilemma.

They noticed it gradually. The hunting group began arriving with fewer and fewer animals and the collectors reported one day, that most of the surrounding trees and shrubs did not have more fruit to harvest. The moment they feared had arrived: the resources of the sector were running out.

A trio of elders visited Loki. Contemplating him with a gloomy air, they explained the situation in worried tones.

"Tell me, have you developed agriculture yet?" Loki asked them, after rummaging through his memory for some solution to the problem.

"Yes, we have tried, but nothing that we had planted, has borne fruit. The truth is that this land is too arid and it rains very rarely, and when it does, what we can collect is barely enough to supply all of us. It would be impossible to maintain a crop under these circumstances"

"And you still keep the organic food that I gave you?"

"Yes, we only consume the bread, but we keep the rest. We were thinking of using it for some eventuality"

"Good. This food is quite resistant, I have the idea that if you plant it, it will be able to grow with very little water and even in a land like this"

The vegetables were then cultivated and the tribe waited expectantly to see the results. They didn't have to wait too long, Loki's food took root and grew. The new plants gave the soil new nutrients and this made easier for them to plant some local herbs, which also grew.

Realizing the success of the venture, people began to work on their personal crops and despite being a laborious job, they felt excited. They began to embrace with enthusiasm the idea of staying in a fixed place and thus procure food for themselves.

Loki and Tony immersed themselves in the task of designing a new water storage system. The idea was to make the most of the austere precipitation and to devise an efficient method of irrigation for the new harvest.

Multiple ponds were then built to collect the rainwater and soon, several canals could be observed, flanking the surroundings.

Everyone helped. Pepper, who was an expert organizer, distributed the different tasks according to the attributes of each one of the members of the tribe, draw upon their personal talents. This caused some of the people to begin to specialize.

New professions such as blacksmithing and goldsmithing originate, which improved the casting and molding techniques for the construction of new tools and weapons.

Peter, who was part of the hunting group, organized a team to investigate more remote locations. He hoped that with the new tools, they would be able to hunt animals that were previously out of their reach.

The quest was a complete success. When Peter's group returned with much more food than any of their other raids, the tribe celebrated for days.

Noting that everything was going well, Loki then proposed the possibility of building more durable homes to replace the unstable tents.

He wasn't what one might call a construction expert, but dusting off some past knowledge and aided by Tony's inventiveness, together they managed to develop a mixture that was then used to build sturdy houses that would protect them from the inclement weather.

For the first time after a long time, the tribe began to progress.

Mortality decreased due to the nutritional capacity of the new crops and the tribe began to grow in population. New babies could be seen in the arms of new mother

The times were changing, his nomad days were in the past.

If possible, the esteem for Loki did nothing but grow. People went to visit him and, amazed by his apparent knowledge, they began to ask him for all kinds of advice.

Loki appreciated the attention, made him feel useful whenever he managed to offer a helpful solution to their problems. It reminded him of those times in Asgard, when he, in spite of all his antipathy, was recognized for his intelligence and accurate judgment.

The change in the relationship he had with the tribe was gradual, so much so that Loki did not realize it. It started with small gifts of gratitude for the help given and then one day, without warning and to his greatest dismay, people began to call him "God Loki"

At that moment, he thought that the Norns(1), must have been having a great laugh at his expense.

When he spoke with Tony, he simply shrugged and smiled amusedly. His advice was that he should simply ignore them all. He was of the opinion, that there was nothing to do when a thought had spread and generalized among all the members of the tribe.

Loki refused to accept it, simply on principle. He tried to contradict them and correct them, but eventually, even he had to surrender at their insistence.

It was Loki against a whole tribe and eventually, they won the battle.

Chapter Text

(1)Æsir: Nordic gods living in Asgard.

Time passed. Now the tribe had several plantations covering the surroundings and several houses could be seen flanking the land.

The people, had captured some animals to domesticate them and use them as farm animals. They had started with livestock.

Each family now cultivated their own farm and had everything to obtain sufficient food and live a comfortable life.

Sitting on the sand, in the distance, Loki watched them work the land, while their senses enjoyed the landscape and silence.

His nose tingled with the scent of the freshness of the fields and the breeze cooled his skin.

At his side, Stark daydreamed in a placid lethargy.

Near one of the plantations, Loki spotted, two children, running from one side to another across the field. They were chasing each other, probably playing some kind of Midgardian game.

They laughed while accelerated their career and suddenly, one of them (his brother, Loki guessed), noticing that the other was going to win, knock him down in a playful way. Both fell and lay with their backs to the sky. Loki, heard them groan in pain and then suddenly explode in loud barks of laughter.

The parents who worked in the vicinity approached the children still in pain and after making sure they were well, helped them to stand up.

The mother approached the boy who seemed the youngest, the same one that had knocked down his brother. She watched him for a moment and then, admonished him for his actions, urging him to be more careful. However, her look was not severe, as his son, she kept in her eyes a playful light, one that despite the adulthood, it seemed not to have disappeared from her face.

After the small speech, dismissing him, she placed a tender kiss on his cheek.

The face of the boy suddenly lit up and then running, he reunited with his brother and father, who this time, had also joined the games.

The mother saw him go away, turning her head from side to side with an amused smile. Finally, with a sigh, she met with the rest of the family.

Loki followed them with his eyes, watching them laugh and have fun in the sun.

A curious sensation made the mouth of his stomach ferment. There was something in that scene that made him feel disturbed, uneasy. His breathing accelerated and suddenly, he was overcome by the growing need to run, to escape from everything. Maybe if he could have moved his body, he would have done it, but since it was not the case, he forced himself to calm down, to shake off that suffocating sensation.

It wasn't like it was the first time he had felt this. Many times before he saw himself in a similar situation, and each time that happened, he forced himself to bury that feeling, pushed it away and thus continue with his life.

"You know exactly which emotion this is, and that's why you don't want to face it." Someone whispered viciously inside.

Ignoring that voice, Loki made a last desperate effort to banish his feelings, but this time, it was in vain. His treacherous mind began to ramble...

Unable to contain the force of his conscience any longer, Loki stopped fighting. He felt suddenly, dragged by a turbid sea of sensations that shook him, taking him from one place to another.

His thoughts, as if they had a will of their own, called the memory of those who he had once called his family, appearing as ghostly images inside his head.

He waited for that reaction of hatred that came immediately after evoking their memory, and he surprised himself by not finding anything.

He saw them clearly as if they were standing in front of him, so strong, imposing and brilliant.

They looked at him directly, with eyes that seemed to pierce him, but he looked away. He did it out of fear, he realized, trepidation to find in them only disgust and disappointment.

But, it was enough of cowardice, he was tired of escaping. The time had come when he had to face his past, his fears. He had to stop fighting against an enemy that in the end was no one but himself.

Loki then, let their eyes meet and when he did, his family gave him one of the most resplendent smiles he had ever seen. Their mouths curved in a sincere gesture, without pretensions or judgments.

However, looking at them in detail, Loki could also perceive something very subtle. Behind that expression, there was a feeling similar to longing, a sadness that spoke of wistfulness and a deep-seeded longing.        

A chill ran through him. He felt exposed, as if suddenly, he had been left naked in a vacant field, only with his emotions for clothes. As if with that smile, they had opened a door to look directly into him.

Memories then, assailed him from another time, one in which he had loved and had been happy. A time, where illusions were taken for granted and hate was not the predominant feeling. Moments, that made him remember, that in his heart, in the place saved for his family, there was once, something more than just an empty space.

Loki was dreaming, he was squirming in his bed twisting the sheets with his limbs.

He was in his room in Asgard, but his dreams took him far beyond the walls of the palace. They transported him to a desolate realm, an image of an empty world.

There was only ice around him and miles of snow stretched on the horizon.

He was alone, someone had abandoned him there, but he could not remember who. He had seen his silhouette move away in big strides, and he could feel a gut-wrenching desperation as he got lost from sight.

"Come back! Don't go! Don't leave me!" He had screamed in his mind.

In that desert, he lay there, without knowing how long, until the hunger made his bowels ache and a deep sadness made his eyes fill with tears.

He could feel the cold tearing him apart, but not from outside, the coldness was coming from inside of him. Where his blood was supposed to be, there was only ice.

"Come back, come back..." He kept repeating in his mind again and again, like a mantra, a plea.

"Comebackcomebackcomeback" Until the thoughts lost their meaning, until all that really mattered was that blinding whiteness, until he felt himself fading away, dissolving into nothingness, until...

He woke up drenched in sweat. A cold sensation spread from his stomach to his trembling limbs. Consecutive spasms ran through his body and his skin felt numb as if he could still feel the sharp snow and the glacial wind whipping him in the face.

He must have been screaming, because moments later the door to his room opened and quickly his mother sat next to him.

He told her his dream while sobbing in her skirt. Loki's heart ached. Frigga's hand was soft against his hair.

She seemed for a moment surprised by his story and then as if the understanding had reached her face, her eyes shone moved.

"Loki, please don't cry, it was just a bad dream. Nothing and nobody will hurt you. You will never be alone again, I promise. Even if I am not by your side, I will always be there for you. My love will be so great that it will reach you wherever you are, it will accompany you wherever you go, even in your darkest moments. My boy, I love you with all my soul, never forget that, whatever happens, never forget it."

He smiled at her and then she rubbed his back and dried his face.

Loki never again dreamed of ice deserts again.

This had happened a long time ago. Why did he remember it now?

How long has he not allowed himself to think about her?

He remembered her as if nothing had changed. He saw her beautiful and brave, with her eternal kindness and will of steel.

His mother... how he missed her...

And then he found it, there it was, hidden among some of the folds of his heart. The affection of his mother had accompanied him all this time, only he had been too blind and stubborn to see it.

His mental scenario again began to change...

Loki and Thor had snuck out from one of the palace grounds. They had escaped, fleeing from the result of one of the pranks that they had played on their new tutor.

It was an innocent one, some small mischief destined to get them out of the boredom and tedium that lesson had brought.

Once safe, protected by the foliage of the garden, Loki relived the prank again, and Thor laughed, oh, how they both laughed. Strong enough to make their stomach hurt and their eyes water with tears.

When their laughter had exhausted, tired, they stayed there for hours lying on the grass, just enjoying each other's company.

A bird called far in the distance, with a long tinkling song and the fragrance of the flowers was a soft and soporific balm.

Time lost its meaning and nothing else in the world mattered, except the warm presence of that figure at his side. Loki found himself flooded with that feeling of security that the mere presence of his brother could provide, as if nothing bad in the world could touch him; as if when he was present, the world was an impregnable place, a fortress with no more dangers than being discovered in one of the new jokes that they had been planning.

In that state of contentment, Thor had interrupted the silence.

"Never doubt the affection I have for you, brother." He had said suddenly.

That took him out of his slumber. It was such a sudden phrase that Loki thought he had imagined it. But when he fixed his eyes on his brother, in his eyes he found a deep well of fondness, a look with an intensity that he knew was dedicated only to him.

Thor didn't say anything else. He must have found something in Loki that pleased him, because he closed his eyes again and rested his palms on the back of his temple, as he returned to his lethargy, humming softly.

Beside him, Loki froze, not knowing how to react to this sudden demeanor. There wasn't a hint of embarrassment in that phrase and the expressed sincerity reach him like a bolt through his chest.

Not knowing what else to do, he went back to lean on the grass. In his mind, still danced the words that his brother had said.

Thor had told him not to doubt his affection and Loki didn't. At that time, he had believed him with all the candid feeling of youth and the confidence given by a friendship not yet tined by resentment.

Loki had believed him, and if he was honest with himself, he still did.

The memories continued. Circulated through his mind, like pictures of sensations and colors passing in front of his eyes.

They were out of control, wild, like a parade of images, without order or meaning.

Loki was sitting under a tree, near the palace's training camp. He looked towards a fixed point, without paying attention to anything specific. In his brow, there was a deep groove and his hands held a branch that he was breaking, again and again, applying in each motion more strength than was truly necessary. Several other remains of branches were on the floor around him, already pulverized, the result of his effusive gesture.

Just two months left before he could reach the age of majority, which meant that he could finally go to the same missions his brother was going to, the ones that had been previously denied due to its "dangerousness". That is why he had given himself the task of practicing, of becoming better. He wanted to silence all those voices that called him "weak" behind his back, he was going to show everyone how wrong they were.

That afternoon, he had been practicing with the sword. He knew it was his weak point, so he had devoted it special attention, training and striving to improve his technique.

However, his teacher seemed annoyed. He corrected him again and again and forced him to repeat the same poses, without even giving a clear direction to follow.

The lesson reached an algid point, when Loki confronted him, alleging his inability to teach.

The professor, offended, refused to continue imparting his class. When Loki demanded to know why, he simply pointed out, that someone like Loki, with such a thin and not very muscular build, so different from the other Æsir(1) of his age, simply did not have what it took to learn the art of the sword.

That had happened in the afternoon and it was late night when Loki was still in training camp, feeling sulky and humiliated.

In the midst of all his resentment, his father had found him. Looking at him for a moment, without preamble, he had given him a small engraved dagger.

"Use it well," he said. "Remember that one doesn't choose the capabilities that existence has predestined for us, but we can choose how we take advantage of those gifts that she has decided to grant us. I undoubtedly know, my son, how much you still have to give.”

His father left as he had arrived, suddenly and silently, however, his visit had left him something much more important than just the dagger he now had in his hands. Smiling, he ran his fingers along the sharp edge and noticed with his touch the subtle runes that decorated his handle.

Loki had practiced with that dagger until he became an expert until he was the best thrower that Asgard had ever seen. But always, in each battle, he carried that first dagger, using it as an amulet, as a talisman of good luck. It was a reminder of what his father had said that day, a reminiscence that even at a time when he had felt weak, someone had thought he was strong.

Loki was overwhelmed. What was happening with his mind that at that moment he began to think about them? Where did all those memories come from?

It was as if, right then and there, a veil of hatred had lifted over his eyes and those memories that his rancor had decided to erase, resurfaced again from a hidden and dusty place.

Nothing was different and yet everything. Loki felt warm, all over. There was nothing but this warmth, engulfing him completely, arising from within.

"I do not forgive them" Loki felt obliged to admit in a whisper.

There were still too many dark thoughts and old memories chasing him. His mind still couldn't free himself from the shackles of resentment of unfulfilled expectations, nor could he heal from his soul all that bitter disappointment.

However, he was also aware that his family had not always brought him pain, the bad did not erase everything good that he had ever lived with them. Hatred, it didn't imply that he couldn't also remember the love he had once had for them (the one he still had.)

Pain burned in his chest, but his heart was lighter than it had been in ages.

Loki didn't forgive them, but the future looked a little brighter now. He didn't forgive them, but maybe he would, someday.

Minutes passed. Loki closed his burning eyes and remained very still. His breathing wobbled and he just stood there in complete silence.

At his side, Tony awoke, stretching out his arms in broad gestures. But his motion stopped midway when he noticed Loki's expression.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked worriedly.

And then as if a valve had been opened, the words came out in spurts.

Loki told him everything. He told the whole chain of events that had led him to crash into the earth and as he had never done before, he referred to his fall and to his decision to let go.

He spoke of what he had just experienced and recalled his family, telling this time, the good and bad moments experienced.

He talked about his past and what he thought would be his future. Of his old life and of the many tangles that he had left unsolved. All those unfulfilled longings and feelings that were left into oblivion.

He spoke of what he wanted, all the time like in a kind of trance, a catharsis that did not allow him to leave anything inside.

Tony listened attentively, without interrupting, sensing that this was not the time for words. Something inside him told him that Loki just needed him to be there for him, to be heard, to offer his presence and support.

When Loki finished speaking, he let out a trembling exhale. A part of him relieved, a part of him still in pain.

Repeating his story, it felt as if he had torn off an arrowhead that had been buried in his chest for a long time.

The soft air floated over them and there was a comfortable understanding. That silence kept only to those people who share an intimate familiarity. That trust granted only to those who have a deep bond of friendship.

Tony, then, leaned forward into Loki's space, his eyes intent. Slowly, he reached out, gently, and swept Loki's hair aside as one might draw back a curtain, tucking it behind his ear. In doing so, his knuckles brushed his cheeks, and he let his hand linger there, in a comforting gesture.

Loki stiffened for a moment, but then, feeling the warmth of that hand, his body relaxed under that gentle touch.

So they lay there on the sand unmoving. A nervous warmth spread through him, and he felt a fluttering in his chest, like a moth beating its wings against a glass.

Loki's hair, long and undone, rippled behind him in the breeze and the sun shining imposing, in the distance, casting clear flashes that reflected in his midnight color strands.

The clouds above, mottled gray, ran lazily over the sky and a harsh light cast long shadows just below where Loki and Tony were sitting.

Suddenly, Loki felt very aware of everything that surrounded him, of the calm of nature and the comforting presence of the man at his side. He let the sounds wash over him and was filled with a deep, cleansing sense of peace.

He couldn't describe what he felt at that moment. A strange feeling crept up his spine. At the same time, it was familiar and completely unknown to him. It robbed him of all his thoughts and ideas, leaving him lost. He had no idea what was happening to him.

What emotion, in particular, had overcome him? It was hard to discern.

He only knew that he had been seized by a deep wistfulness, as big as the vast landscape that stretched before them.

His eyes met Tony's and then he found himself paralyzed, trapped in the depths of those unfathomable brown irises.

Only with the sound of the wind to fill the silence, Loki lost the notion of how much time had passed, he remained fixed, as if captivated by some kind of charm.

There was a moment, a very fleeting lapse of something, in which Loki felt a deep desire, a kind of rapture, a longing that in spite of trying, he couldn't give a name.

But then, like a shadow resting on him, that desire was overshadowed by a paralyzing fear. He felt trepidation of his own thoughts, of seeing what was in the depths of his heart. He felt small and helpless in the face of a feeling so complex and intense that he thought, if he had given himself to it, he would have been completely consumed.

Loki then looked away from those bright eyes, and the spell broke.

Tony blinked too as if shaking off his trance, and then, lowered his hand from his cheek.

A thousand words flashed inside Loki, but none of them came from his lips.

"Thank you," Tony said suddenly, getting ahead of him.

"For what?" Loki asked confused.

"For trusting me" And then, a heartbeat later, he added, "For being my friend."

"It's nothing..." Loki said somewhat uncomfortably.

"For me, it's far more than nothing," Tony told him.

Nearby, the plantations stirred gently with a passing breeze.

When Loki spoke, it was barely more than a whisper. "For me too."

Chapter Text

The progress the tribe had made, which was now a village, had aroused the jealousy of other remote tribes.

The situation was tense and many times they found themselves in need of reacting to attacks that were designed to rob them, harm them or simply gather information about their success.

This was how the enemy tribes learned of Loki's existence and their apprehension only increased. How was it possible for the village to have a personal God who blessed them with wisdom and good fortune? What made this village so special that it was favored over others?

Tensions continued until everything reached a decisive point. The enemy tribes decided to unite and declare war. Their goal was to seize the ‘God Loki’.

Loki knew everything about battles. Not for nothing, he had grown up in a warrior society dominated by the importance of combat and excellence in his military training.

He was aware of everything that involved the struggle for survival and the sacrifices necessary to achieve success. He knew, of the powerful force generated by the ideals of freedom and of the price that certain people are willing to pay to obtain power.

Loki understood all this, and it was for that very reason, that he could not avoid a twinge of uneasiness that settled heavily on his stomach as he recognized the great danger that lurked on the horizon.

What did it matter what other Asgardians said about the glory in battle? The truth, the only great legacy of a war, was death. The losses were always greater than the profits and the experience, left marks that even time never managed to erase.

And yet, despite all his abilities, all those battles, Loki saw no other way out. The confrontation was inevitable.

What else could the village do against enemies who wanted to dominate them and kill them? There was only one way left, to fight and protect.

It was a fact that war brought pain, but it was also true that it was a valuable tool that served to get rid of tyranny. Something that allowed to defend the most valuable, the life of those who made your home.

Tony, who was a respectable figure among his people, would definitely go to the fight.

A wild and irrational part of Loki, wanted to convince him not to go. It did not matter that it was cowardly or ignoble, but something inside him was screaming.

“The body of humans is so fragile” His mind never tired of reminding him “It would only take a small blow to the head or the edge of a knife piercing his skin...”

But his most logical part, recognized that this was only a useless longing. Loki knew, that inside Tony, inhabited the soul of a warrior. For him to sit idle while watching his people perish, it simply was not part of his nature. Asking him would be like demanding him to renounce an important part of his being.

He then, kept silent.

Life, had taught Loki, that it was more useful to be a realist than a dreamer. What was the use of wanting? What was the use of asking? When the result would be the same, Tony would leave and there was nothing he could do about it.

It did not matter that sharp anguish, like the weight of chains tightening on his heart, tying him from within, or those cravings that seemed to want to explode from his chest. He took all those feelings and hide them in a remote place.

The days after the announcement of the war, were used in preparations and training.

Time passed faster than expected, that anguished rapidity of those who await an inexorable fate

The routine remained unchanged. Tony and Loki continued doing their morning walks and spending time between leisure and research of new technologies.

Without agreeing, none of them spoke of the impending departure, only enjoying each other's company and making the most of each moment together. Treasuring that borrowed time, one that they knew was a gloomy countdown.

However, on the eve of his departure, when everything was imminent, the truth hit Loki squarely in the face, leaving him totally at lost. He felt as if a thick haze had settled in his mind, a sense of unreality that made him perceive himself from the outside, as if for a moment his body had separated from his consciousness.

He watched the dawn fall uneasily, it was time to say goodbye. The next morning, very early, Tony would leave with the rest of the group to go to battle.

"This was really happening? This was going to be the last time I would see him? Was he going to leave as everyone else had done before?"

He felt an anxiety that made his stomach twitch, refusing to settle. The visceral sensation of something rotten ran through the mouth of his stomach, making him feel nauseous and dizzy.

Impotence and anger made their way from his entrails, shoved against one another, making him feel suffocated; as if someone was squeezing the base of his throat. 

And Loki, as he always did when he could not deal with his emotions, put a mask on his face. He made a wall that would protect him from any feeling or emotion. Inside those sheltered walls, he could pretend that nothing mattered, that none of this had any meaning for him. Protecting himself from something he knew, to give it room, would irretrievably damage him.

When they said goodbye, Loki's mask was firmly in place. He was courteous and aloof, speaking only just and disregarding any attempt by Tony to get him out of his indifference.

They’re chatting like strangers rather than saying any of the real things, and they both knew it.

When Stark, angry, tried to confront him, Loki's mask broke and the rage seemed to radiate through each of his pores.

"If you're so willing to leave, better leave at once. I hope you are satisfied when a sword crosses your chest or an arrow is keyed in your skull. You have no idea what you're are facing, you ignorant mortal."

Loki ignored the twinge he felt when he saw Tony's wounded and resigned look, as they took separate paths.

Lying on the bed of his abode, he also ignored the itching of his burning eyes and the pain he felt somewhere close to his heart. Like a great thorn of guilt sinking more and more against his chest. 

When finally his consciousness vanished, his dreams were plagued by strange and disturbing nightmares. All fragmented disordered and disconnected. But always in each of them, a disturbing and desperate fear. Horrible visions of inert bodies and spoils of bloody battles.

Rest did not arrive that night for Loki.

It was early morning when Loki felt the door of the entrance to his house burst open.

Waking up in a jump, he heard hasty footsteps and then, as if it were an apparition, he saw Tony's figure, positioning himself directly in front of his bed.

For a moment, he seemed to want to say something, opening and closing his mouth, but instead, unable to find the clarity to give voice to his thoughts, he began to walk the room from end to end, in impetuous strides and nervous gestures.

Loki, looked at him first stunned, and then incredulous.

“What was going on? What was the meaning of this erratic behavior?”

"Tony, what are you doing?" Loki finally said, when he could not stand the expectation anymore.

Upon hearing those words, Stark jumped, surprised, as if that voice had taken him out of the deepest meditations.

He rubbed his face, trying to recover with that a little of his composure and then, finding himself a little more lucid, he raised his eyes to focus completely on Loki.

"Ok, I can't do this any longer. I got tired of pretending as nothing happened. I'm leaving and this could be the last time..." Tony had to stop there, if he didn't, his voice would start to vibrate.

Loki noticed the deep anguish that at that moment invaded his face. There was something slightly vulnerable around his mouth and his face was open, raw, with emotions so sharp that seemed painful. His body contracted defeated, as if his mind had reached an insurmountable limit, one that threw him into the abyss of impotence.

Loki gasped, and Tony's feelings seemed to project from his heart to his.

An intense need invaded him, one that urged him to intervene, to comfort, one that made him want to erase forever that anguishing bitterness.

"Tony... it's alright. Hey, Tony, look at me, everything is alright, okay?" Loki said softly.

That seemed to reassure him.

"Loki... I know you don't want me to leave, but I... I have to."

"I know" Loki sighed "I understand. You leave because you think it's the right thing to do. You are a man of honor, a hero from head to toe (even if you do not believe it yourself.)

But the thing is, that I am not, I am someone selfish, a jealous being who...  would like you to stay here, out of danger, with me…"

Surprise reach Tony's face and then, a somewhat sad smile settled on his lips.

"No, you've misunderstood, I don't... Loki, I'm going to tell you something. I don't want you to get mad or freak out, okay? In fact, if you do not agree, you can even ignore that this conversation happened at all. It's just... I didn't want to leave without being able to tell you..."

Something in his voice, something in the air, made Loki tense, making his face heat up.

"Loki..." Tony murmured, his gaze unbreaking "You...?" His voice trailed off suddenly.

"Phew! Ok, this is harder than I thought" He said, running his hand through his hair.

"Do I... what?” Loki supplied, urging him to continue with his speech "For Norn's sake! What has this man so nervous?"

Stark did not respond, instead, approached slowly.

Loki stiffened. He found himself surprised, nervous. His heart beat hard against his chest.

He couldn't say why, but suddenly he was afraid of the intensity of that gaze, of how quiet everything had become.

The man sat next to him on the bed.

"Tony," He said narrowing his eyes "What are you doing?"

There was melancholy in his eyes now; melancholy and something else, maybe fear?

"Why was there fear in his eyes?"

"I... I wanted to tell you something important. I know you think I'm going to protect the people of the village, but I want you to know that that is not the reason. The truth is that I... I want to protect you..."

At that moment Tony's fingers landed on his chin. Brown eyes rested on those bright green orbs. Those eyes looked at him with a burning intensity, full of chaotic emotions and an almost palpable hope.

His face came closer until it was inches from his mouth.

"I shouldn't be doing this." His words were mere murmurs under his breath, and Loki could not tell if they were meant for him to hear, or just for himself. "This could ruin things, I shouldn't... Ah, but..." He shook his head, a small, guilty smile on his lips. "I can't control myself, it seems."

"Tony..." The rest of the words trapped in his throat; letting escape in its place, a trembling sigh.

Stark looked down for a moment, as he seemed to gather his thoughts. When he looked up again, his expression softened and fear left his eyes.

"I'm going to kiss you, Loki... I'm going to do it right now, if you do not want this to happen, it's best if you say it now..."

His brain froze. His eyes widened and all his thoughts were caught by that tender and passionate gaze. His breathing stopped when Tony's face began to slowly descend to his, cautiously, giving him more than enough time to back off.

The world stopped abruptly when he felt the brush of Tony's breath touching the surface of his trembling lips, a fleeting moment before the other man's mouth settled over his.

Loki's skin bristled. It was as if a shock of electricity had passed through him, sending tingles through his spine.

He found himself overwhelmed by a multitude of sensations, as he had never experienced before or even thought himself capable. He felt dizzy, and strangely euphoric, like a drunkard, or a man in a dream. Everything that existed in the darkness of his mind, at the limits of his senses, was Tony, and it seemed almost as if he were the only thing that really had existed.

Despite the confusion, somehow, he felt relieved. He didn't know what to do with all this, he couldn't comprehend what on earth was occurring, but suddenly he found himself wishing, feeling an irresistible longing to get more of what was being offered.

He realized that he had been waiting for this for a long time.

How long had he felt this way? How long has he longed for this, in the depths of his dreams? He couldn't say.

He felt that at last, he had been given the answer to a question he had never dared to ask before.

"You know?", Someone who curiously sounded like Tony, laughed in the back of his mind, "despite all your scrutiny, Loki, sometimes you are very unobservant."

After that brief and chaste touch, Stark stepped back slowly to analyze his face, to study his reaction. What he saw made a smile fall on his lips. Those eyes looked at him with intense passion, bright eyes full of emotion.

Soft lips caressed him once again, moving with extreme care, almost with sacred adoration. His head was supported by a pair of strong hands radiating a heat that spread all over his face.

Loki shook himself out of a contained anxiety, then closed his eyes and surrendered his senses to the overwhelming intensity that ran through him.

The feeling coiled inside him, filling each of his cells with explosions of sensations that turned his whole body into putty. In a pulsing entity of nothing but warmth and pleasure.

He gasped loudly, amazed, and the mouth that held him captive swallowed the sound completely. A tongue explored the seam of his parted lips, and he gave a hesitant permission for further invasion, opening wider.

Tony came in like a whirlwind, like a soldier returning home. So ferocious that Loki's bones felt as if they were on fire. The renewed heat exploded in his veins in the next second. The burning, like lava, poured into his mouth in a river of desire and he felt dizzy with the sensations that vibrated through his cells. He was being completely possessed, devoured, taken. He was being broken and reformed. He was being kissed directly towards his rebirth.

Loki wanted more, wanted everything at once, needs to be closer.

Tony's fingers curled into his hair holding him. Those hands were burning against his head, keeping him warm, completely unbalanced. He was being singed, from the inside out, in a conflagration of emotion that was turning his whole being into a pool of pulsating blood and vibrating sensations.

Stark's lips remained close to his, long after the kiss ended. Tony tilted his head towards him so that their foreheads touched, caressing the side of his face.

When Loki opened his eyes, he found himself on the receiving end of the most beautiful expression he had ever seen. No one had ever looked at him with that impressive mixture of ecstatic exuberance and hopeful tenderness. Stark's gaze was brilliant as a diamond, two huge spheres watching him with evident devotion.

"I love you. I've loved you for a long time." Tony said.

Those words vibrated through Loki, down to his core, moving through him like an earthquake. His breathing quickened and a shiver of passionate joy passed through him.

He tried to swallow the knot that had formed in his throat “I love you too” He said, this time without fear. Daring to pour out his whole being, all his heart to another soul for the first time.

Tony breathed a sigh of relief at that, and then a smile of pure joy made its way to his lips.

The tips of his rough fingers framed Loki's cheekbones with care, brushing long strands of hair from his pale face, smoothing his long, dark strands with a trembling hand. He traced all the curves of his face, with delicate affection and fervent passion.

Loki allowed the man to touch him as he pleased, leaning towards his touch, marveling at the kaleidoscope of emotions that only that contact was capable of provoking him. He closed his eyes, submerging himself in all those sensations, drowning himself in those sweet caresses.

After a moment, sighing contentedly, Tony buried his face in the crook of his neck, breathing in slow and calm puffs, ones that made Loki feel the back of his neck bristle.

Silent dust motes danced erratically near the window and the light of the stars swept through the room, covering everything in a bluish glow.

They both remained silent, motionless as if they were part of a paint of ethereal strokes, or perhaps as if they were in the middle of a melancholy dream.

"You better come back to me. Return unharmed, or I'll never forgive you" Loki said suddenly, with a voice that reverberated throughout the room.

When Tony raised his face, it was to give him a penetrating and determined look. Those sharp eyes settled on Loki's, full of determination and overflowing intensity.

"I promise, even if I have to cross the whole earth, or even hell itself, I will come back, this is my vow to you Loki, I swear, I will return to your side."

Tony at that moment, had the certainty that he would never see anything so beautiful, like the smile that Loki gift him that night.

The next morning, found Loki in Tony's arms. His head resting against his chest moved in a rhythmic sway, product of that deep and serene breathing; and the comforting warmth of his body, made him feel wrapped in a soft blanket of pleasure and emotion.

When Loki opened his eyes, he met Tony's gaze already on his face, watching him with a deep smile and bright eyes full of affection.

"It's time, isn't it? You must go" Loki said resigned.

“Yeah, but I still have some time left and I would like to take advantage of every second I have, to spend it with you”

Stark put a hand on his cheek and approached to give a soft and warm kiss.

Their lips were still together when suddenly, the door of the house opened with a bang.

"Mr. Stark, are you here? The troop is ready. They are looking for you..."

Hearing Peter's unmistakable voice, Tony jumped.

"Hey, kid! We were just... ehemm...well..."

Peter looked at them, noting the closeness of their bodies and their lips still swollen from the kiss.

An uncomfortable silence extended for a moment.

"God, I was starting to doubt it was ever going to happen," Peter commented in a fervent exclamation. It seemed he was only just resisting throwing himself at them in a hug. "I think Miss Pepper won the bet, after all, I must tell her! you just... continue with what you were doing, I'll tell the troops to wait a moment," Said Peter with a smile from ear to ear, running off.

"My, my" Loki said after Peter left, with a mischievous smile on his mouth, "I think, that I should personally apologize to the troop."

"And why would you do that?" Stark said, smiling too.

"For make them wait. I plan to keep you with me much more than just a moment."

Apologizing, Loki had said,  But he did not look like he was sorry at all.

Chapter Text

Tony's troops had placed themselves in a strategic sector near the village and since then they had fought tirelessly protecting the borders of their home.

Several days had passed since the conflict and Tony could already see the results and wear that the skirmishes of his enemies had generated.

"So this is War," He thought with an anguished sigh, going through the tents that kept the wounded, and feeling the fatigue and tension that seemed to have accumulated in his joints.

His body seemed to retain still the echo of the battles. As if the impression of that moment continued resonating inside. Grim and sharp, clinging like two firm claws to his conscience.

Helping the healers, he worked hard to assist in any task that might be useful. He wanted to do something, anything that would take him out from those gloomy meditations.

However, looking at those laid bodies, Tony could not help but review in his mind, the events of the last days.

The strife had not been easy. Several lives had been lost under the brutality of the combat.

The enemy was fierce. They may not have the same technology in armament as the village, but any deficiency, they supplied it with their large number of soldiers and a tenacity that made him wonder where did all this hatred and rancor come from?

Tony, had tried to do his best to help plan the attacks and organize the combat tactics. His strategy was simple: Try to end the fight as soon as possible and with the least amount of casualties, on both sides of the conflict.

"We are going to win with strategy and not with brute force" He had told the soldiers "If you have to kill to defend yourselves, do so, but if you can avoid the unnecessary death of one of your enemies, forgive their lives. Remember that in a war there are always two sides of the story, there are no good or bad, only people trying to defend their ideals”

The struggle had left many losses, however, the efforts of the village had not been in vain. The result of the last battles had given them a clear clue as to who had the advantage; the enemy was finally retreating.

For the first time in a long time, Tony felt hope sizzle in his chest. If everything went well, the war would end soon and they would be victorious.

If luck was on his side, he could return home and see the man who had not abandoned his thoughts even for a single second during all this dispute. He, whose memory was enough to produce a sweet feeling of happiness and comfort, each time his soul was lost wandering on turbulent roads.

"Loki... soon we will see each other again, I'm sure of that. And when we do it, when this battle is over, I hope this world will be a different place. Together, we will make of our home a place where we can live in peace”

His meditations were suddenly interrupted, by the presence of one of the soldiers entering unexpectedly in the tent.

"Sir, we found a group of archers trying to infiltrate the camp"

"Archers?" He said surprised.

"Yes, they were hidden in the mountains, but we manage to capture them. They managed to do some damage to the base and some people were injured, but fortunately, there were no major losses"

"I'm glad," He said relieved.

Reflecting on what happened, Tony had a sudden idea.

"Would you be so kind as to bring the leader of the group? I'd like to have a few words with him"

Nodding, after a moment, the soldier escorted the prisoner inside the compound.

Seeing him enter, Tony could not help to take notice on his appearance. He was a middle-aged man with light brown hair and a toned body.

At that moment, his blue eyes showed a sharp and fierce look. One with such intensity, that it seemed to Tony as if he were watching the unfathomable eyes of something wild, a glimpse of an indomitable animal.

Strangely, the image of a hawk crossed his mind for a moment.

"Hi! How are you? My name is Tony Stark" He said happily, extending his hand.

The man remained silent, without making any attempt to acknowledge the gesture.

“You know? When someone introduces oneself, it's cordial to say hello and say your name”

If possible, the archer glared at him with an even more lethal gaze.

"Whoa!" Tony said, raising his hands in a pacifist gesture "I understand that you do not want to talk, in your situation I would do the same. But believe me, when I say that I don't want to hurt you, I just want to talk to you"

The man let out an ironic snort.

"Just talk? I know how this works, Stark. You will say anything to get information, but then, when you have what you want, you will kill me along with my people.

There is nothing you can say or do that is new to me. Believe me, Schmidt has already tried everything”

"Schmidt?"

"You don't know? He calls himself Red Skull. He is the man who started this war"

"What do you mean?" Tony said, feeling a cold chill at the back of his neck.

The archer hesitated for a moment, but then, a resigned sigh made its way down his throat. "Well... there is no point in hiding it. If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that all this will end soon" There was something strange in his voice, Tony was sure. Maybe it was regret? remorse?

“Schmidt is an ambitious man,” The archer told “Some time ago, he undertook the task of convoking and convincing each of the tribes to join and fight in this war. He wanted to have the greatest military power and gather as many allies as possible. His purpose was to defeat your village and thus, seize your technology and your God.

Naturally, some tribes, adhered to his cause, with promises of power and wealth, but others... He needed to be more persuasive..."

The man's voice was expressionless, however, when he spoke again, his eyes had acquired a strange brightness. Looking at it, Tony could not decide if it was a halo of sadness, anguish or just something that was close enough to madness.

“He sacked their houses, seized their goods and burned their crops; and without feeling satisfied with any of this, he took each of the children of the tribe as hostages. Helpless children torn from the arms of their mothers, the perfect blackmail to create exemplary minions. New soldiers who would obey any order without opposition.

You can imagine that after that, there was no tribe that refused his demands"

"I... I'm sorry. If there was something, anything, I could do to help..."

The archer, looked at Tony with an indecipherable expression.

"Help us? And how do you plan to do that? Even if you were as honest as you claim to be, you and your village have shown us that you don't care about anything other than yourselves. You could have helped us, but instead, you denied us access to your technology and weapons. Maybe with your support, we could have defeated Red Skull, but you hid in your small village as if the rest of the world didn't exist"

"Hey! And how were we supposed to know about Schmidt? Or that you needed help? We lived our lives quietly and suddenly, the next thing we knew, was that we were at war. We were attacked, what did you expect from us apart from trying to defend ourselves? Even at the beginning of all this, we tried to negotiate, reach an agreement, but there was no answer from you."

"Of course there was no answer!" Said the man "Did you expect that Red Skull would have allowed us to negotiate? This war was exactly what he wanted. Do you think he would have left unpunished such a challenge to his authority?”

They both looked at each other with piercing eyes; and their agitated breathing, a product of their mutual outburst, was expelled in angry puffs.

For a moment, it seemed no one will yield in this bizarre gazing contest, but then, feeling calmer, Tony let out his breath in a long sigh.

"Well... you're right about something," He said, after a moment "We could have shared our knowledge with you, but we didn't.

If that had been the case, maybe everything would have been different... You may have had the means to defend yourself and even, we could have prevented the beginning of this war”

The archer looked at him bewildered, totally surprised by his words.

"But... it's not too late” Tony continued, with renewed conviction “We can still do something. With your help, we will end this conflict. I have all the security that together, we will succeed in overthrowing Schmidt”

The archer's face lit up suddenly, but it was only a fleeting expression. In a blink, his face changed to one of resignation and sorrow.

"It's too late. there's no point... Red Skull already won"

"Why do you say that?" Tony said, with an intense foreboding crawling up his spine like a hundred ants. 

The man just kept silence.

"Oh! come on! You don’t owe Schmidt anything. As you say, he doesn't care about anything other than causing harm and suffering. He is an authentic tyrant who will not stop until he destroys everything on his path to success"

When he saw that the archer was still silent, suddenly, realization dawned on him.

"He has your family, isn't it?" He said, with an intense anguish that pierced through his chest "You don't want to talk because you're afraid of putting them in danger..."

The defeated look the man gave him,  was all the confirmation Tony needed.

"I promise that if you help me, I will do everything in my power so Red Skull and his allies are defeated. Your family will not have to worry about his threats anymore. Schmidt will lose, I swear it by my village and for all the lives that will be saved when that happens, you have my word"

Tony saw a parade of emotions cross the face of his interlocutor. He sensed that at that moment, a great struggle was developing inside him.

"Okay... I'll tell you what you need to know" The man tightened his jaw and his expression only become more determined.

“Listen, Red Skull had deceived you. This fight, all these battles, are just a distraction. He, with a select group of his best soldiers, will try to infiltrate your village. They will enter on the south side, through one of the most unprotected accesses. It will not be difficult for them to do so, because they have a great advantage; a very powerful weapon that can kill your best soldiers in just seconds.

If you ask me about this weapon, I can't tell you. Anyone who has seen it, didn't survive to tell the story. But I can assure you that it is very lethal, so much that it seems out of this world.

While we are talking, Schmidt is already in motion. At this very moment, he should be arriving at your village. If you are going to do something Stark, I advise you to do it now. Maybe if you wait, it will be too late.”

Tony's eyes widened in horror, but he did not let his feelings dominate him. In an instant, he was throwing orders, preparing the weaponry and organizing the departure.

However, before leaving, the archer stopped him.

“Stark, I'm going with you. I can't stay here without doing anything, not while there is still some possibility of freeing my family. I am a good fighter and I can assure you that I will not rest until this conflict comes to an end and justice is done for all the innocent people who suffered and perished under the dominance of Red Skull”

"Of course, your help will be more than welcome," Tony said in an affable way "You and your people, are no longer my prisoners. I will give the immediate order of the cessation of the attacks. From now on, we are allies”

The archer gave him a brief nod and his face softened.

“Let's hurry, there's no time to lose” Tony said, and immediately, they both ran to meet with the rest of the soldiers.

"Hey, Stark," The archer said, as he trotted alongside him "It's Barton"

"What?" Tony said, confused.

"My name, is Clint Barton," He said, with a small smile.

"Nice to meet you, Clint," Tony said, also smiling.

The wind was blowing strongly, and in the distance, could be seen the rosaceous dawn behind a bright fringe of clouds.

The road seemed endless, but when they finally reached the meeting point, without losing more time, they got on the horses and left to the village.

As Tony galloped, the adrenaline made his body tremble and his agitated mind, went from one thought to another at a dizzying speed.

"What happens if Schmidt wins? What if something happens to Loki? What if I don't arrive on time...?"

His heart beat hard and the anxiety of before, now transformed into pure nervousness.

“Just hold on a little more Loki, wait for me, I'm coming...”

Chapter Text

Loki was waiting expectantly in his room. He knew something was wrong. He could feel the restlessness like a storm on his head, threatening and dark.

He stiffened and tilted his head, listening, searching for the source of the intense foreboding that curled in the pit of his stomach.

He didn't have to wait too long. With hurried steps, Pepper and Peter, unexpectedly, entered his house. 

"Mr. Loki! They're here!" "The enemies are invading us,” They said in unison.

"What happened? Tony's troop was defeated?" Loki said, unable to avoid the intense panic that appeared in his voice.

"We don't know, we haven't received any news from them," Pepper said, speaking calmly, but Loki could see her hands trembling slightly.

"The enemies broke the walls on the south side." She continued. "It was a small but powerful group. In a short time, they defeated the majority of the soldiers. Those that remain, continue resisting, but it is clear that they will not be able to stand for much longer.

Loki, most of our soldiers are not here, they are fighting with Tony. We have almost no defenses. If they manage to enter the village, I'm afraid we will not be able to face them."

Loki cursed softly "So what shall we do? Come on! think, what can be done?" He reflected with exasperation.

“Peter, I need you to gather everyone in the main square. The enemies will attack us head on, but we are more than them. We will have more chances to survive if we stay together.

Tell all those who have not taken up arms yet, that they should do so now. Shovels, pikes, sickles or spears, anything that could be used to defend themselves.

Pepper and I, will also be there. Once you're done, meet us”

"Of course, you can count on me, Mr. Loki," Peter said, grave and solemn, bowing his head in a slight nod, to then, run out.

Loki felt his blood boil. A mixture of anger and fear made his nerves bristle and his heart beat wildly as if it was about to explode from his chest.

"We are not going to stay without doing anything," He told Pepper "we are going to fight!"

She stared at him for a moment. The lines of her eyes deepened and her mouth tightened in determination.

"Yes," She said "We will fight until the end"

Then, grabbing the end of his wheelchair, Pepper took Loki quickly to the meeting point.

"Tony..." Loki's mind, couldn't help but wander towards his memory "Don't you dare to break your promise. Please... be safe..."

In the main square, they all gathered together.

Those who had experience brandishing weapons, had aligned themselves, surrounding the others like a human wall; while the rest, crouched behind, very close, as if their mutual proximity could protect them from any danger.

They all waited for the enemy.

The hearts of the people began to throb with force, and the exalted energy spiked through their limbs.

Loki looked around, the view, was not a hopeful one. His gaze swept each one of those faces with worried trepidation.

He saw children crying holding onto their mothers' skirts, while their parents tried to hold their weapons in insecure defensive postures.

He observed inexperienced adolescents trying to appear more courageous than they felt, for the sake of their families.

He saw people with hardly enough strength, whether due to illness or age.

And finally, his sight was diverted to the villagers who had positioned themselves in the first line of defense. Loki saw them as they really were: men who had never experienced the rigor of a battle, trembling under the weight of their sword.

He saw stern faces everywhere. Everyone was afraid, to the unknown, to pain, to death.

Pepper and Peter were also at his side, but their faces were so hard, with such a sour expression, that it seemed as if a shadow of darkness had descended on their features.

In the distance, Loki heard the war cries of the invaders, the metallic sound of their weapons, and their footsteps reverberating like drums on the sand.

The battle was upon them, the enemies were not far behind.

The people of the village heard them too, and a general tremor went through each of the inhabitants. Suddenly, a wave of fear invaded them; one that made their chest tighten and their senses vibrate in commotion.

"How are we going to defeat them?" A man shouted, suddenly.

"How are we going to protect ourselves?" Said a mother with a baby in her arms.

"What are we going to do now?" Someone said in a whisper.

Despair slowly began to arise in the group.

Agitated, the clamor of the crowd was heard with vehemence. The set of voices, a mixture of dread and anguish, echoed in growing tones and their words overlapped one another in a confused uproar.

The atmosphere changed: The air felt heavy, the result of the sudden tension and in the eyes of the people, could be glimpsed a bitter shadow of defeat and resignation.  

Loki knew that look. It was one that allowed him to recognize before a battle, which were the soldiers who would lose their lives. Those who even before fighting, had already surrendered. A self-fulfilling prophecy that predisposed them to death.

He knew he should do something, but what? In Asgard, it was usual for the general to give a short speech before each battle. He, along with Thor, was usually designated for that task.

Loki was accustomed to standing in front of the soldiers and using his silver tongue to recite harangues with such solemn and fiery content that it could even arouse the most reluctant public. 

But now, could he do the same? What could he say? What were the correct words? These people weren't warriors, they were simple villagers who wanted to protect their home. They didn't believe in glory in battle or in the loyalty to the king. This time, Loki didn't have prepared speeches or embellished words to give them.

And yet, something in his chest told him that this was not the right path. For once, Loki wanted to grant something truthful. He wanted to give them words of truth, words of life. 

At that moment, Loki knew the promise he would make: He would protect those lives at all costs. He didn't know how, but he had that certainty. He would help to defend his new home.

"Remain calm," He said slowly, over the tumult. The exalted group, upon hearing those words, immediately fell silent.

All eyes turned on him and Loki suddenly felt very aware of their piercing gazes.

"Listen, I... I don't know how this battle will turn out. I don't know if at the end of the day, we will be victorious or if we will have to face defeat"

His heart was pounding, but he spoke what he needed to say, what his soul needed to express.

“And yet, despite everything, I see you standing here, confronting the uncertainty, the unknown, facing the danger of death. Maybe now you just feel hopeless, but I want you to know that this act makes you more than any hero, stronger than any famous warrior. The fact of being here, transforms your bravery into something more powerful than any weapon that at this moment you may be holding in your hands."

And Loki really believed it. In his time in Asgard, he had thought that the only important strength was that of combat. Nothing else mattered, except that fight that allowed to validate your existence.

But the people of the village had demonstrated to him how wrong he was.

They, with their courage and cleverness, had shown him the enormous inner strength that drove them. He had been able to witness this mysterious power, which allowed them to create and build, to survive despite the difficulties, to fight for a land that they transformed into their home.

They had taught him that there are intangible forces that grow from the inside. Some, which are hidden in the depths of your dreams and then resurface to make way for a feeling, an impetus. Something so unfathomable and powerful that is able to face any obstacle, confront any enemy.

When Loki spoke again, his voice was firm and his eyes brightened with conviction.

"The path we have chosen is dangerous. On this day, you may be presented with dilemmas that seem insurmountable, choices you never wanted to face or fears that at the moment seem impossible to overcome. But we are not allowed to surrender, we have an obligation to face the difficulties. It is necessary, because we have something that is worth fighting for, beyond fear or uncertainty.

I have now, something worth fighting for..." He said in a whisper.

"We are here to fight for our future, for our friends, and loved ones, we have the right and duty to fight. Our goal is neither victory nor power, but peace and freedom. We will do it together, whatever happens, we will fight for our home... "

When Loki finished his speech, the change in the environment was immediate. The ovation was not rowdy, like the battle cries of the soldiers in Asgard, but it was infinitely truer.

The people smiled at him; and their bright, hopeful eyes looked at him so openly and gratefully that Loki felt shaken, as if a cold breeze had met his skin.

Those feelings that the villagers tried to share with him, Loki perceived them in such an intense way, that it reverberated to the deepest part of his being, penetrating his skin and senses. Making him feel a strange and comforting warmth that began to bloom in his chest and then engulf him completely.

Moved, without yet erasing that gentle smile on their faces, the villagers took each other's hands. In their minds, a certainty, a promise.

"Even if death finds us, even if we face defeat, we are not alone. No matter what fate brings us, we will face it together "

Overhead, the dawn slowly poured over the mountains and those first rays of the rising aurora caressed their faces with a comforting warmth.

A shadow moved in the distance and a group of silhouettes seemed to approach.

When the villagers turned again to face the enemies, this time it was with a brave stance "Let them come! we are ready!" Suddenly, someone said from the crowd.

Vehement exclamations of support, echoed among the people; and fervent war cries resounded all over the esplanade.

After a small moment, the enemies appeared on the horizon. They were here, the battle had begun.

Chapter Text

(1) Seidr: A form of magic practiced by magicians and sorcerers in Asgard. It's characterized by extracting its power from the great Yggdrasil tree.

(2) Yggdrasil: It is a perennial ash tree or also known as the great tree of life, whose roots and branches join the different worlds.

In a matter of seconds, the invaders raised their swords, and rushed forward, roaring at the villagers.

They ran too, taking the offensive. The blades of their weapons glowed dangerously and the sun, hardened their grim features.

Both groups came together in the middle, in an intense explosion of sounds and colors.

Everywhere there was confusion and struggling bodies. The swords clashed with each other, in rumbling metallic sounds.

The villagers fought with ferocity, dodging sword thrust and brandishing their weapons bravely. An unprecedented power radiated from them, emerging even more powerful when they saw their home being invaded.

In the midst of the revolt, three villagers took Loki to the back, to the farthest place from the battle. Positioning themselves in front of him, they acted as a shield, protecting him from any attack.

Seeing this, Loki stifled a grunt. These men were willing to give their lives for him and Loki couldn't do anything to stop them. If only he could fight, help in the combat... but no, he was trapped in a wheelchair, waiting helplessly for the outcome of the battle.

His mouth tightened in frustration and his insides twisted with helplessness.

Pepper, along with other villagers, took refuge behind a barricade, raised with old farm-carts upturned. From there, they riddled the soldiers with hunting arrows and spears.

Several other barricades had been erected around the main square. Its objective was to corner the enemies and attack them from different flanks.

Peter also stayed in the back, intercepting any attack aimed at the most unprotected villagers. He fought with two short swords, repelling blows and using his agility to surprise those soldiers who managed to approach the group of civilians.

The chaos escalated. The hubbub of voices was heard even beyond the hills and the fervor of the fight was leaving fallen bodies everywhere.

Suddenly, some soldiers lit several torches that came dangerously close to the wooden barns and the houses with thatched roofs. His goal was to set fire to everything in his path, burn everything they found.

Seeing this, the inhabitant's hearts skipped "Fire!" They thought frenetically.

The villagers, thanks to their efforts, had been able to collect enough rainwater to supply the canals and ponds that bordered the village, but they could not boast of having water to spare, it was still a scarce commodity. If the flames managed to spread, they didn't have enough resources to contain the fire. If the invaders fulfill his aim, everything would be lost. Everything for which they had fought, would be transformed into nothing but ashes.

Sensing the imminent danger, a group of brave men barreled at full speed into the soldiers, knocking them down with their bodies. They fell backward, hitting the ground in a loud crash, raising a great cloud of dust.

The torches fell from their hands, skidding across the floor, consuming themselves with the friction. However, one of them reached their initial target. One of the houses was touched by the fire, causing it to spread at a dizzying speed due to the flammable material.

Acting swiftly, a group of villagers race to put out the blaze.

They tried to help but soon, despite their efforts, everything turned into chaos. Each individual gave themselves to the task to suffocate the flames with any means at their disposal, however, there was no teamwork, only scattered groups that hindered and interfere with the work of their peers.

Pepper then, came running up. She quickly ordered the distribution of tasks and organized the people so that they could extract, in the most efficient way, the water from the ponds. It was a battle against time and Pepper took advantage of every second.

Several people lined up to pass the buckets of water while a group volunteered to stay near the flames and face the fire with the water provided.

The intense heat made sweat trickle over their eyes and their lungs scorch from the smoke. But it didn't matter. They continued to struggle against the burning scenery, even when it seemed their bodies were going to be completely swallowed by the powerful flames.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the fire finally gave way. They had managed to contain the blaze and to prevent it from spreading through the rest of the village.

A feeling of sorrow spread among the villagers, at seeing that burned debris. It was a reminder of what could have been, of what could have happened had they not been successful.

If the soldiers had achieved their goal, remains like these, were all that would be left of the village. It could have been the fate of their crops, their houses, even, they could have been the charred bodies of their children, husbands or wives.

The villagers looked at the soldiers, and an unprecedented rage came from their hearts. Burning them from within. As strong as the flames they had just faced.

They then, launched themselves, roaring like beasts, against the enemies.

The force was such that some soldiers retreated, howling in pain and screaming for help.

"Attack you cowards! They are only peasants!" A general shouted angrily.

The enemies regrouped, but the villagers were ready. Acting with haste, they did not give them time to attack. They rushed upon them like an avalanche, using their weapons precisely and a resolution that radiated through each of their pores.

The soldiers, being overwhelmed by such ferocity, began to retreat. The village was finally gaining ground.

Seeing all this, Loki felt it: that tiny little flutter, that spark of hope that made its way through his chest, like a warm and comforting light.

Just a little more and they would get the victory. The enemy had underestimated them. They did not count on the implacable strength of the inhabitants of the village.

But suddenly, a small tumult of voices was felt among the invaders.

A man appeared on the horizon, walking calmly, edging closer to the battlefield.

Loki didn't know him, but still, as he laid eyes on him, something curled in his gut, making him feel nauseous and dizzy.

There was something very wrong with that image as if a strange energy was floating in the air around him, forming a dangerous and disturbing aura that made Loki wake up, an intense and macabre foreboding.

"It's Red Skull! We are saved!" The soldiers shouted.

When the man approached, a loud and bone-chilling voice rang through the heavy air.

"Villagers! I see you armored and ready to fight, but I want you to know, that you have sealed your doom. Today you have only readied yourself to die"

He made his way easily, knocking down anyone who got in his way. Advancing decisively, going in a straight line to where the civilians were.

But someone blocked his way. It was Peter, who had stood firm in front of this new enemy.

“Well, sir, I'm gonna stop you right there. I can't let you pass. I'm sure you understand" He said, raising his chin and looking Schmidt directly in the eye. His gaze was defiant, mixed also, with a bit of fear. But above all else, an intense determination was reflected from his soul.

Without saying anything else, wielding his two short swords, Peter charged.

Loki tried to warn him, tried to tell him to desist from this confrontation, but everything happened very fast.

Red Skull stopped the attack, using his sword as a shield, resulting in both weapons colliding in a metallic rumble that reverberated through the air.

They separated and Peter rushed to attack again, but Schmidt didn't give him an opening. Calmly, he stopped each of his attacks, dodging the edge of his swords as if they were both involved in a strange and coordinated dance.

The confrontation continued for several minutes. Peter struggled as best he could, grunting and shouting for the effort as he wielded the blades from side to side and tried to deflect his enemy's thrusts. But it was clear who had the most experience in combat. His body began to resent the constant loss of energy and his movements became increasingly slow and erratic.

"It's enough" Said Red Skull, with a smile "It's been good training, but I think it's time to end it"

Lunging forward with blinding speed, he disarmed Peter. And then, using only his bare hands, grabbed him by the neck, lifting his whole body with his grip.

Peter struggled, trying to separate those hands from his neck and panting from the effort of trying to get air into his lungs.

Schmidt squeezed harder and harder, determined to extract every last breath of that body in his hands. Taking his time, he stared at Peter's face, as if spellbound, watching as life slowly slipped away from those eyes that, just a moment ago, radiated so much vigor.

"Alright Stop!" Loki shouted.

Red Skull heard him and stopped short.

"Well, well. Is not that our mighty God?" He said in a tone, full of sarcasm.

Changing his attention focus, he placed Peter's body back to the ground, making his heels touched the floor. Schmidt loosened his grip, but his hand remained close to the boy's neck, not releasing it completely, restricting his movements.

Peter could breathe again, but he was weak and disoriented. Red Skull's grip was the only thing that kept him standing.

"Leave the villagers in peace, it's me who you want. I will go with you. There's no need to continue this madness" Loki said, his voice hard.

Schmidt chuckled.

"What makes you think you can negotiate with me? I'm not going to deny that I'm interested in you, but no, that it's not the only reason I'm here. Actually, I enjoy the roar of battle, the shedding of blood, the conquest and absolute submission of my enemy.

I'm going to take you, of course, but first I'm going to have my battle. I am a conqueror; I will not stop until I dominate each and every one of the tribes. And when I do it, everyone will recognize my power, I will be like a God. No... even more...”

"You? A God?" Snorted Loki "I've never seen a more pathetic human"

The immutable face of Red Skull snapped for a moment, turning a grimace.

"I think…" He said slowly "I must give you a lesson in superiority, after all"

"That's it..." Loki thought, "Forget the boy, focus on me"

For a moment, it seemed as if Schmidt was going to release Peter and go to him, but unexpectedly, he stopped his motion. Looking at Loki fixedly, he scrutinized him with piercing eyes.

"Mmm... It may seem strange, but I think I recognize something in you. Yes... I'm not mistaken. There is something in your eyes, something that speaks of experience, of having seen incredible things, horrors that few have come to witness. Your eyes are those of a warrior, a murderer...

You know? I had thought about offering you an opportunity of redemption, showing you where is your place, teach you a little humility. But when I saw you, I realized that it is useless. You are not like any other. The methods that I normally use, wouldn't work on you. You are used to pain. The physical suffering I intended to cause you, would have little if any effect on you.

But I think I have a solution for this little dilemma... Torture for you doesn't mean anything. But... what do you say about someone else's pain? Someone, who you clearly cares enough about to try to save his life?” He said pointing emphatically to the figure of Peter, which was still imprisoned in his hands.

"Tell me... Would you mind terribly If I remove a limb? Or two?"

Loki's body tensed and fear fell slowly down his spine.

"You wouldn't dare..." He said, trying to make his voice sound steady, but failing miserably.

"Oh? Do you really want to test my word?"

Red Skull brought his sword close to Peter's arm.

Frantically, Loki searched his mind, some way to help him, but he didn't find anything.

Negotiating was useless and his paralyzed body felt more than ever, like a cruel prison "Why? Why did he have to be so weak?"

Peter tried to get away, but it was useless, Schmidt held him with an iron grip.

After a moment, he stopped struggling. Standing very still, he accepted his destiny.

Red Skull, aligned the edge of his sword at the juncture of his wrist.

"NO! STOP!" Loki shouted, not caring anymore, the hint of desperation that appeared in his voice.

But the man, just smiled at him, without even wavering an inch the grip of his sword.

His arm gained momentum...

Suddenly, a strange sound was heard, like the whistle of an object through the air.

Schmidt only had a few seconds to throw himself to the side and dodge the arrow that was aimed directly at his heart.

With that movement, he released Peter, who fell to the ground.

He was sore and weak, but undoubtedly safe.

The light of the sun blinded his eyes for a moment, but Loki could see shadows at the distance, just where the arrow had been thrown. When his gaze cleared, his heart pounded violently against his chest. Tony and his troop, appeared over the horizon.

Loki closed his eyes, took a long breath and then released the air slowly, feeling a great relief go through his senses. They were safe, reinforcements had arrived.

He saw Tony, brave and bright, galloping on his horse. All the hero that he really was. Beside him was a man who was not part of the troop, an archer. He was the one who had fired the arrow that saved Peter.

Who was he? An ally, no doubt. A silent thought of gratitude, crossed at that moment, through his mind.

Loki's musings were interrupted, suddenly, by a loud growl.

Red Skull was watching Tony's Troop, with such a sour face that seemed as if he have swallowed a whole liter of decomposed milk.

"Surrender," Loki told him "You and your people, no longer have any chance of victory"

Schmidt contracted his face in frustration, but suddenly, something changed; a mischievous crooked smile settled on his lips.

"I think you've earned the honor. I'm going to show you something truly special"

Red Skull rummaged in a bag that was tied to his belt. Inside, he pulled out a wooden chest, adorned with the figure of an ominous tree.

When he opened it, a shining light was projected from within, tinting his face in bluish tones.

There, resting in the confines of the chest, the imposing form of a crystalline cube could be glimpsed.

Its bright form emitted electric flashes and within its translucent walls, you could see something swirling in its interior, A kind of energy that seemed to come from its very core.

When Loki recognized it, the air seemed to get stuck in his lungs.

"The Tesseract? What is it doing here on earth? How was it possible for this human to find it?"

"I only use it with especially fierce enemies. Only a touch will disintegrate your bodies completely. Behold! Here is the cube of the Gods, be witnesses of real power, of my power"

But there was something wrong. The light radiating from the Tesseract behaved strangely. She flickered inconsistently as if she were going through different energy changes. And suddenly, with a jolt, the walls of the cube seemed to widen.

Loki knew immediately what was going to happen.

"Stupid Mortal! You have no idea how to use the Tesseract. It is responding badly to you. Don't you realize? It's going to explode! You are going to kill us all!"

"Do you think you can trick me so easily? I am not an ordinary man. I will not give this power away. There's nothing you can do to stop me"

The cube began to shine with increasing intensity, emitting a disturbing sound, like a shriek.

Loki was running out of ideas. If he didn't do something soon, everyone would die.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tony's troop running towards them, with their weapons raised, coming closer and closer.

Loki felt real fear when he realized that, if they approached, they would also be trapped inside the explosion.

He tried to scream, to warn them, but his voice was caught within the growing uproar.

Loki shuddered with fear and rage, until his whole body was consumed with feverish chills that left his cheeks burning and his breath short.

It was a matter of time, at any moment, the Tesseract would explode and take with it, any hint of life that found in its way.

Loki felt as if the world had stopped. It was as if all the sounds had gone out, and he could only feel the sound of his heart pounding in his chest.

Everything was so fast, he didn't know how it happened.

He felt a familiar warmth surrounding his body, one he'd been terrified he'd never feel again. His magic! his Seidr!(1) It was within reach again, permeating his being with its power.

He perceived himself, renewed and strangely euphoric. It was as if he had been deathly ill and suddenly, woken up completely well again. Or as if a limb, he'd never known were missing, had been restored. Everything was now seen with new clarity. He could think, could see, could feel. 

With his magic restored, Loki felt hope bloom in his chest. He was no longer helpless, now he had the possibility to fight, to be able to defend himself and his new home. He had a weapon to wield against the invaders. The opportunity to make a difference in this battle.

He called his magic, and it came to him. He felt her dance inside him, float and go over his body in a gentle flutter. But... something wasn't right. When he touched his Seidr, Loki knew it.

Although part of his magic had returned, it was still damaged. His Seidr had been replenished, but only a small part, one that was infinitely weaker than it had been before. His power was there, but it was just a spark. Something unstable that could be put out at the slightest provocation, vanish, if it were brought to the edge of its limit.

Worry soon became the predominant emotion. Would his magic be enough to stop the threat? Could his crippled Seidr contain the ancient power of the Tesseract? Loki did not know... but what he did know, was that there was no time to doubt.

Failure was not an option. His magic was going to be enough, it had to be enough.

Loki then released a great bolt of energy. It was a green light that crashed into Schmidt, ejecting him several meters backward.

His body crashed into one of the barricades, breaking the wood, to then collapse to the ground with a thud.

The Tesseract fell from his hands, crashing to the ground. Where it kept shining dangerously.

Ignoring Red Skull, realizing that he must do something soon, Loki's magic concentrated.

His Seidr, went towards the cube, trying to wreathed that pulsating energy, struggling to contain in some way its power.

But the Tesseract, rejected Loki's Seidr again and again, dispersing his energy by barely making contact.

Both magics began then, a silent battle, striking each other like lightning, forming a confusion of colors and blinding flashes.

Heavy drops of sweat ran slowly down Loki's temple and suddenly, the flow of his power began to waver. His magic was failing. His reserves were running out by leaps and bounds.

But he could not surrender now, not when the resolution of this battle could mean the difference between the life and death of all present. Just a little more, he had to strive a little harder...

Loki gritted his teeth, reached into his core, and pulled, extracting, squeezing every last drop of magic. The effort made his body tremble and his vision narrowed.

This time, the magic of his body was expelled in a powerful energetic wave, reaching the cube with a blow, achieving that his power merged with that of the Tesseract.

If someone had asked him, he could not have described what he felt at that moment. It was as if the cube was communicating with him, singing, showing him a whole new reality. For a moment, Loki was no longer himself, he was another being, one who was completely united with its power. The Tesseract had accepted him and his magic. And suddenly, Loki knew exactly what he had to do.

The green light of his Seidr shone brighter, separating from the cube, surrounding it, and then, with a twist, the Tesseract disappeared. His magic had vanished it as if it had never been there.

Loki only felt it. He sensed the energy of the cube being contained within one of his pocket dimension. It was a great explosion. So powerful, that he could swear, to have felt a slight vibration within the channels of his magic that connected with the branches of the great tree of Yggdrasil(2).

The danger had passed. He made it. He had managed to contain and isolate the power of the Tesseract.

After that, Loki called his Seidr again, but only emptiness resonated. His magic was again out of reach, depleted again.

Well... it didn't matter anymore. Everyone was alive, and honestly, that was more than he had any right to expect. His Seidr was a fair price for all the lives he had been able to save today. He regretted his loss, of course he did, but Loki also knew that had things been different, he could have lost infinitely more...

As if it were a distant echo, Loki heard the sound of something metallic and heavy footsteps approaching quickly and threateningly.

Fixing his eyesight, Loki saw the figure of Schmidt running towards him. His face disfigured with rage looked at him with unfocused eyes and his sword drawn, shone as if reflecting a thousand suns.

The villagers who were defending Loki, with a shout, rushed towards Red Skull, but they stood no chance. He pushed them with his sword, throwing them through the air, knocking them out of his way. 

Schmidt arrived where Loki was and in a matter of seconds, he was already leaning over his body, with his weapon aligned, ready to end him.

He raised his sword and in a broad movement, the blade began to cut through the air, pointing directly at his head.

With his magic exhausted, Loki understood that he had no way to defend himself.

Those seconds before the sword connected, passed slower than they should.

Some people, when confronted with the certainty of death, say to experience different revelations; some, relate how they saw their life pass before their eyes, others say, be enlightened with the truths of the universe or even, possible angelic encounters and celestial choirs.

But Loki, at that moment, didn't have any of those epiphanies. Instead, only an immense tranquility circulated through his mind. He had no unknowns to solve, not even anger, only a quiet acceptance that numbed his senses.

"Ah! So this is the end..." He thought "I only regret one thing; not being able to see Tony's face once again..."

He closed his eyes and prepared for the blow, but... this never came.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Tony standing behind Red Skull. His sword, pierced from end to end in his chest.

For a moment, Schmidt stood there, perplexed. He seemed not to feel the wound and looked at the tip of the sword that came out of his chest as if nothing were happening, almost with curiosity. He stood there, dazed, but then, a light of understanding reached his eyes. He stifled a moan, and with a last sigh, fell to the ground, from where he didn't move anymore.

To the enemies, that vision was enough. Yielding to panic, they ran away in terror, only to be cornered by Tony's troop. Finding themselves with no way out, they released their weapons, falling to their knees, fixing their frightened eyes on the imposing figure of Loki. 

Stripped of their weapons, they were reduced with ropes and taken into custody.

It was over. They had won the war.

The people had glassy eyes of shock, pain, and exhaustion, but a look of accomplishment illuminated their features.

"You came back," Loki said to Tony, smiling.

"As you see, I kept my promise," He replied.

Suddenly, Loki felt as if the world around him began to spin.

His breathing became heavy and he felt the adrenaline dying down in his system, as the agitation of the fight faded.

Apparently, the use of his magic had taken more effort than he had anticipated. He had pushed himself to the brink and had overextended himself badly.

The weight of exhaustion was felt by his body and his head throbbed. With one last look at Tony's troubled eyes, the earth vanished, and he sank into oblivion.

Chapter Text

The first thing that Loki felt upon waking, was an intense light that damaged his eyes and the sensation of extreme tiredness that made his flesh felt unbearably heavy.

"Where am I?"

The world still felt confused, as if he was seeing everything behind a fogged window and he couldn't shake the feeling of missing something very important.

He tried to sit up but his body didn't answer him. Why couldn't he move his limbs? Maybe he was hurt?

He tried to reach his magic and thus evaluate the state of his body, but it didn't came to him. What was going on? Why couldn't he access his Seidr? What was the meaning of this emptiness that seemed to come from within him? He felt as if something important had suddenly been ripped out of him, something that was part of his identity, a piece of his very being.

Panic spread through his mind as if it were a poisonous plague. His heart hammered against his chest and he moved his head from side to side, gasping for air.

"You are having a panic attack" Whispered a thought across the back of his mind.

But then, a gentle hand pressed against his cheek and his agitation calmed down immediately. He approached that touch, feeling that familiar sensation, clinging to it, as though his life depended on it. Who was this person? Where had he felt this before?

"Loki, it's over. You are safe" He heard the man say.

Confusion clouded his mind, but that man was there, holding him.

He sank deeper into unconsciousness after that, and when he awoke, the world had cleared somewhat.

He opened his eyes with almost painful effort.

A room. Now all the memories came back to him. He was in his house, in the village.

And there, Tony was sitting by his bed, holding his hand. And despite not being able to feel his touch, he felt his warmth and that comforting sensation that was radiated directly to his chest.

His eyes moved towards him. His heart was racing.

Those dark eyes looked at him with deep affection and some veiled concern.

Loki tried to speak but a fit of coughing stopped his words. His throat felt dry as if it were a desert.

Tony brought him a glass of water and gave him to drink.

"Are you okay?" He said, slowly.

"A bit tired, but I'm... well" Loki answered.

Tony sighed and Loki could see the profound relief that crossed his face.

"You don’t know how glad I am that you're awake," He said smiling for the first time since Loki opened his eyes.

"I'm happy to see you too, and in one piece, I should add"

Tony didn't say anything else, just approached. He reached out to put a hand around his neck and bring his cheek closer to him, hugging him tightly. His fingers twisted themselves in the back of Loki's shirt, squeezing hard, almost desperately. As though if Tony didn’t hold him close enough, he might disappear.

"I'm just glad we're both alive," He said, almost in a whisper.

Loki closed his eyes, feeling his skin and the warmth of his body. Upon barely making contact, an electric jolt moved through his bones, like a head-on collision with a storm. And suddenly, all fog in his mind dissipated.

The touch of his body, felt reassuringly alive. His anchor with reality. The link between the dream and the next.

His muscles relaxed and he only surrenders to that feeling of deep happiness that seized him. Sinking into that fierce grip.

None of them moved. They just fell silent, feeling the sound of their breathing and the movement of their chest.

"The others…? Peter? Pepper?" Loki asked, after what seemed like a long time.

"Both well" Tony said loosening his grip, but keeping his hand resting on Loki's neck. His touch, comforting, protective "Peter had some injuries but they were minor, in a few days he was fine again and Pepper... Well, she is hard as an oak, nothing seems to stop her. She is well too"

"A few days..." Loki's stomach lurched "How long has it been?"

"Since the battle? four days," He said simply.

"Four days..." Loki thought, stunned. He had been unconscious for four long days. It seemed as if everything had happened only the previous morning.

His expression changed a bit, and suddenly Tony looked vulnerable. Fearful.

"For a moment... I was afraid you would not wake up," he said. "The healers said they couldn't find anything wrong with you, but I knew something wasn't right, possibly with your magic, for what you did in the battle. It's only in the last twenty-four hours that you started to move, to give signs of life. I was worried about you. God! Everyone in the village was worried"

At the mention of his magic, the agitation he had felt before waking, had begun to return. That emptiness he had tried to ignore became more prominent and as he looked at Tony, his mind began to consider how he might formulate that phrase that had begun to burn in his throat.

Loki breathed softly and after a moment, said "I've lost my magic"

Something sad passed behind Tony's eyes, and was gone.

"You are okay?" He said sounding concerned.

"I'm fine, it's just that I thought... the truth, I don't know what I thought," Loki said quietly.

He remained silent for a moment gathering his thoughts, and then added.

“When I lost my magic for the first time, I believed that it had disappeared forever, that it was irretrievably lost. But apparently, that was not the case.

Not even I fully understand how I recovered it, but my theory is that during all this time, it was replenishing itself, getting stronger.

In the battle, what I most wanted, was to be able to have something to fight with, defend myself, and then, my Seidr was there again, lending me its power.

I used what was left of my magic to isolate the power of the cube, but in doing so, I exhausted all my reserves. My Seidr is now out of my reach, lost again.

Without having access to my power, I fear that the cube is unreachable. It is irremediably forfeit within one of my temporal dimensions. Accessing it is impossible, even for me"

"I think it's for the best. I saw what the cube was capable and I don’t regret it's lost. It's a dangerous force, one that in bad hands, could become terrible. If renouncing a power like that, is what humanity needs to achieve peace, so be it"

"Indeed," Loki said with an expressionless voice.

"Loki?"

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry you lost your magic. I know it must have been hard for you to have recovered it, just to lose it again. Your magic reserves were almost exhausted and even so, you chose to use what you had left to help us. I wanted to thank you. If it had not been for you, none of us would be here today. You have saved us all"

"Save them?" Loki thought, as he felt a lump rose in his throat.

Those words of gratitude, should have felt comforting, a sweet balm for his ego, but it just didn't. Instead, Loki only felt a sharp pang in his chest. One, he realized, had been carrying for a long time, even before the beginning of this entire war.

It was true that with his magic he had helped to defeat Red Skull but... Was it not because of him that all this conflict had started in the first place? The main reason for the war was to seize the ‘God Loki’. His presence, was the main reason why Red Skull had taken an interest in the village.

It had never been his intention to cause harm to the people who had offered him such kindness and hospitality, and yet the damage was done. Lives had been lost. People who had trusted him, those who had become his friends... were no more.

He was not going to dirty their memory by making excuses. Neither the dead nor their families cared about pretexts. No regret on his part was going to bring them back.

All of their problems had started from the moment he arrived at the village. Maybe, Loki should never have sought refuge among these humans. If he had not been so naive as to have thought himself worthy of their kindness and acceptance, perhaps none of this would have happened.

In Asgard, they had called him the God of chaos and bad luck, and apparently, time had proved them right.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Tony asked, noticing his dismayed face.

Loki almost flinched. He knew he should say something, but he couldn't make himself move his mouth. "Don't thank me. It's my fault," he finally said, his tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth. "I couldn’t..." He cut off. "So many lost lives. Wherever I go, there's nothing but chaos and death, it's part of who I am, my nature." He took a breath, and finally said, "I’m... sorry"

"Are you mad? You have nothing to apologize. For nothing that happened was your fault.

I know you Loki, you are not chaos, much less death. You haven't shown us anything other than generosity from the moment you arrived at the village. You shared your knowledge with us and you have given us much more than we could have thought possible when we were just a small tribe fighting for our lives. If it were not for you, we would have perished long ago. We would have died before the war even began”

Tony looked away.

“In fact... if there is someone who must apologize, it's me, for being foolish enough to have been tricked by Red Skull. I fell for his trick and left the village. It was my fault that you were left without defenses by the time the enemies arrived. I was an imbecile and I put everyone in danger" Tony said with a hard expression.

"That's not true. You didn't have the means to know what Red Skull was planning. You commanded our troops like a true leader.

Not only that, but you killed Red Skull, you saved my life...

It was thanks to you and the rest of the villagers that we won this war. You came to save us when everything was lost and the other villagers fought like... like the greatest warriors I've ever seen. You and they, were the ones who made this victory possible"

Tony gave a long sigh and closed his eyes. A moment passed before he spoke again.

"I think... we're both a pair of hard heads. I do not think we should blame ourselves for the things that could have been, but we should be happy for everything we managed to save.

We, as a village, beat Red Skull and the invaders.

Loki, we won. It's over, it's finally over"

Tony's expression was a mixture of happiness, relief, achievement and also love... immense love. Pure, strong emotions that were reflected in his bright brown eyes.

Loki looked back at him, noting the intensity of that gaze. The sincerity expressed in each of those words felt like a direct blow to his heart.

Seeing those eyes, it made it much easier to recognize the truth that Tony struggled to convey to him, without the kaleidoscope of emotions that covered his mind of grim thoughts.

And Loki, found himself wandering in those brown depths, sinking into that look that seemed to want to delve into his very being.

"Yes... is true. It's really over" Loki said.

That truth floated in the air, permeating them with tranquility they had not felt for a long time.

From here, they could only walk forward. A new beginning awaited them. An opportunity to build a better future, strive to create a new world of peace.

Loki's face softened.

"So... what do you think we should do now that we don't have to fight for our lives or worrying about facing more enemies?"

Tony paused to consider this for a moment and then smiled slightly "I think breakfast seems like the next logical step"

Loki was looking out the window when Tony came back. His expression relaxed, serene.

Tony had in his hands, a plate of bread slices and a few small jars of butter tucked under his arm.

He put everything on a small table next to the bed, and then set out to heat the water and toast the bread over the fireplace. Soon, the room was flooded with the warm sensation of embers and that pleasant morning smell of breakfast.

They ate together sitting on the bed, munching peacefully in silence.

Tony was about to ask Loki if he wanted another slice of bread when he heard the man's voice interrupting the silence.

"You know? There are many things that I don't know about the battle, especially about your time outside the village. Would you mind telling me about everything I missed?"

"But of course! This is great. It's storytime! Nothing better than a good tale after a good meal. Where should I start?"

So Tony told him about the many battles he had had with the neighboring tribes, all his efforts to avoid the advance of the enemies and about how he had learned of Red Skull's plan.

Tony was finishing the story of when he and Clint got on the horses to go to the village when, to his surprise, Loki began to laugh beneath his breath.

"Hey! What, may I ask, is so funny?"

"Oh nothing, it's just... I was thinking about the moment when you and your troop came to the village, and I could not help but think that you have a great sense of timing. First, that archer with his so unerring arrow and then you, that appeared in the right moment to kill Red Skull. It could not have been just a coincidence. Admit it, you planned everything to arrive at the precise moment, just like the great heroes do.

You are such a diva, you know that? I know you have a penchant for the dramatic but couldn't you have chosen any other time? In case you didn't notice, all of us were fighting for our lives there" Loki said, with a mischievous smile.

"That's not true!" Tony said, with an indignant snort "Besides, you are accusing me of being a diva? look who's talking! You are the one who once made Peter and May wait with dinner served for an hour, just because your hair was not fixed to your taste"

"That's utterly and completely false... you know my hair always looks good"

Tony looked at him blankly for a second before bursting into a peal of mirthful laughter.

Loki also laughed. They both laughed. Hard. As if they had told the funniest joke they had ever heard.

Destiny was uncertain, but if they could still laugh like this, talk like this, then they had nothing to fear.  And if circumstances had changed... well, it had not changed them. Whatever the future holds for them, they would face it together.

When Loki was finally able to shake off the last vestiges of laughter, he said.

"About that archer you mentioned. Clint, isn't it? His arrow was the one that saved Peter's life. I would like to… thank him"

"I'm afraid you can't talk to him, he's gone"

"Oh? And where is he now?"

"He returned with his family.

You see, Red Skull had taken as a hostage the members of his tribe. Children took as prisoners and a lot of families forced to take separate ways.

But when Red Skull was defeated, Clint approached the invaders and demanded the liberation of his people.

The soldiers, seemed not to hear him at first. They were in shock. They babbled and talked about the power of the great God Loki.

It was then, that Clint told them, his tribe now counted with your blessing and if they didn't do what Clint said, they should be subject to the consequences of your terrible wrath.

With the promise of indulgence in exchange for their cooperation, in the end, they agreed to Clint's demands.

Just yesterday, the group of soldiers who accompanied him returned. They said that everything had gone well, that the release of hostages had been a complete success.

After that, the enemies were allowed to return to their homes. But Clint didn't let them go without first reminding them of all God Loki could do to them if they betrayed his trust.

Personally, I don't think they will try anything else. You should have seen their faces, there was real fear there. They were terrified when they saw you use your magic”

Loki was speechless, the wrath of God Loki? And then he laughed again.

"It was time for that nickname to serve a useful purpose"

"And you were hoping that as time went by, people would forget about it. Now it has done nothing but spread, even to other tribes" Tony said.

Loki had now, a fond, amused grin now plastered firmly to his face.

The morning light spilled slowly from the window, illuminating his somber, peaceful expression, making his jet-black hair glow in a soft golden hue. The air was filled with a sleepy stillness and Loki felt his eyelids a little heavier.

They stayed like that, in comfortable silence, feeling the presence of another, filling themselves with that deep feeling of peace that their mutual company provided them.

"Loki?" Tony said slowly.

"Yes?"

"I know you probably don't feel comfortable talking about your magic but... I've been thinking”

He waited for Loki to shake off his drowsiness before continuing.

“You recovered your Seidr in battle, right? And you told me that you believe it was because during all this time it has been replenishing itself.

You know... that makes me think that maybe your magic is not completely lost”

"What do you mean?" Loki said surprised.

“Your magic has proven to be a somewhat unstable force, I can't predict how it will react in the near future, but... what if this is the same as when you lost it for the first time? Your Seidr may still be inside you, restoring his power, recovering silently.

What I mean is; If your magic managed to replenish itself once, what makes us think that this can't happen again?

Now you can't access your Seidr, but perhaps all we have to do is wait for it to recover. Trust that it will reappear when it's strong enough”

Loki's eyes widened in surprise. He had been so wrapped up in his own pessimism that he had not even considered that possibility.

Tony was right, there was still hope! He just had to wait and be patient, to have faith that time would heal all damage to his body.

Tony thought it possible to recover his Seidr and he was going to believe it too. “Someday his magic would return" And in his mind, that sounded like a promise.

"You're right. Thank you. And I don't mean just the comment of my magic. Actually, I wanted to thank you for many things: For...” Loki felt suddenly, a nervous flutter in his stomach, but when he looked up and saw Tony's reassuring eyes, the words seemed to simply sprout from his mouth.

"I wanted to tell you that... you are important to me. Your presence, your company, everything you do and have done is greatly appreciated. I am not the same as I was before and I believe that you are a fundamental part of what I have become. I... What I really want to say is, thanks for everything"

Tony then approached. Lying next to him, he slid his arm around Loki, and drew him in, until he could feel the puff of his breath through his shirt, and sense every beat of his heart. His hand was warm when he lifted his face and his lips felt extremely soft when he leaned in and laid a slow, solemn kiss upon his brow.

"I love you Loki" Tony said in a whisper.

Leaning toward Tony, Loki lay there, marveling at the heat of the man against him.

Everything was new to him, this intimacy, these feelings, and yet, it seemed as if for the first time in his life, everything seemed to be exactly in place. As if this were the natural state of things.

Loki gazed at the man beside him, serenely, a sense of fulfillment in his bones. One that Loki drank in greedily. He felt like he held the whole world in his hands.

Tony reached out and clasped Loki's face, brushing his hair back.

"Now..." He murmured. "You just have to rest and recover your strength"

Loki noted the intensity in his gaze, and felt blood warm his face. He watched Tony lean down and give him a slow kiss on his lips. And without thinking, he kissed him back. His eyes had closed before he knew it, and he craned his neck to get a better angle. The breath trembled in his chest, and a sigh passed through him.

A sound that set Tony's heart aflame.

"The battle is over. And once you're back on your feet, we'll have such a celebration, that nobody goes to sleep for a week"

Loki smiled at him and damn if it wasn't one of the most beautiful things Tony had ever seen.

After many celebrations, the villagers took on the task of reconstructing the damage that the war had caused. The losses were not few, but working together, in a short time, they rebuilt the village to what had been its former glory.

Taking advantage of the impetus of construction, they also set out to build new edifications. The village now had a tavern, a palisade for protection and a large market where people began to enthusiastically practice the concept of trade.

The fallen villagers were laid together in a grave on the hill-side, where later a great tombstone was set up with their names engraved. Those names would be memorized by the village scholars and would be inspirational material for numerous songs that would tell their noble stories of bravery.

The other tribes did not bother the territory of the village again. They had acquired new respect for their people and feared the reprisals of the powerful God Loki.

The confrontation would be known as ‘The Great Battle’ and was registered in the growing library that was recently inaugurated.

Chapter Text

(1) Mímir's head: Mimir was a giant whose head was cut off during the war between the Æsir and the Vanir and owner of Mimir’s well, which granted wisdom to those who drank from it. Odin traded his eye for a drink from this well and then returned with Mímir's head to Asgard. It recites secret knowledge and counsel to him.

After the war, the village returned to its old routine.

Since they no longer had to worry about more attacks, they began to develop art and music. The scribes filled the library with new volumes and the village now enjoyed an overflowing and emerging culture.

Tony and Loki were closer than ever. The transition from friends to... more seemed to go rather smoothly for the pair; their relationship evolved to something deeper, but their friendship remained intact. They still spent practically all their time together, discovering new inventions or simply enjoying their mutual company.

Realizing the futility of staying in separate houses, Tony proposed to move in together. It was thus that they ended up involved in an uplifting (and sometimes frustrating) project to build their new home.

They designed the new house completely to suit their whims. Full of absurd details, curious objects and ingenious inventions of new devices.

Once it was finished, Loki and Tony watched the fruit of their labor from a distance.

It was a house with a smoky chimney. It was primitive, modest and welcoming. It was nothing like the great golden palaces of Asgard in which Loki had once lived. However, looking at it, he thought there was more value in this little house than in all of Asgard's great treasures put together.

"So... dinner?" Tony said several minutes later, still not looking away, smiling proudly.

"You weren’t joking about being hungry earlier, were you?"

"I never joke about that." Loki said, his face dead serious.

Tony snorted.

"Come on, I'll make some eggs. I’d offer to do the meat, but I’ll just end up overcooking it like the last time." He makes a face. "I don't get how you can eat it like that."

"It's a vast improvement on the leather that you choose to eat. You should try it. So much more... tender and juicy.”

"You're weird." Tony said, and Loki's lips curved in a slow smile.

Frankly, he had never been so happy.

One day, while they were sitting reading near the fireplace, Tony lowered his book slowly, setting it aside on the arm of his chair.

"You know? I've been thinking..." He said, eventually.

"That's never a good thing."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny. I'm serious, Loki." And all trace of playfulness disappeared from his face.

Loki looked up.

"All right…" He said carefully. "Tell me what's the matter."

"There is something that has me worried. I've been thinking about the future of the village. I fear that we will soon face a big problem. I don't know if it will be tomorrow or in many more years, but I know it's inevitable."

"What do you mean?"

"Until now, the collection of rainwater, although scarce, has allowed us to maintain our plantations and fill our ponds. We are thus, been able to supply the entire village.

However, I know we can't go on like this forever. The climate is changing. I have noticed that temperatures have gradually increased with each passing year. I know, because I've been monitoring its progress.

Rains are not as frequent as they used to be, and periods of drought are getting longer. I am sure that the day will come when the water in the ponds will not be enough, especially if we take into account the pace at which the population of the village is growing."

Loki looked at him thoughtfully.

"I remember that when we met, you were looking for a solution to the drought problem, that you had made some trips."

"Yes, at that time, I was looking for information to be able to solve the immediate problems of the tribe; hunger, shortages, and diseases. When we started to progress I thought we were fine, that we had been able to solve all our problems, but... we didn't, it was only a temporary solution. We have been able to make much progress taking full advantage of the little supplies we have but eventually….

Loki, I'm afraid that in the not too distant future, our resources simply won't be enough to ensure our survival."

"I know you want to find a solution to this problem, but I don't see how you plan to do it. This isn't something simple, it's not a puzzle that you can solve only with determination, just as you do with one of your inventions. We are talking about something bigger. What you want is to beat nature itself."

"I know, I know!" Tony said in frustration. "I don't know what I should do, but I can't just sit idly by. Maybe I can gather some information, resume my research and my trips, just as I did before."

"Oh!" Loki said, suddenly understanding where this conversation was going. "So you plan to leave. That's very... noble of you." His voice was apparently inexpressive but Tony could detect the hint of resentment hidden in those words.

"No, that's not what I meant. Yes, I want to make a trip but... I wanted to ask you to come with me."

"Go with you?"

"Think about it as our next great adventure. There is a whole world out there. I could show you planet earth, be your guide. So far you haven't had the opportunity to go outside the village grounds, right? Maybe it's time to explore new frontiers.

I would very much like you to accompany me. If you want, of course. No pressure. I'm not leaving without you."

There was determination in his voice, but there was also a softness to it. A sound that gave Loki a curious warm feeling in his chest.

"I think you're forgetting something. I have a small mobility problem, and my wheelchair, as you well remember, has its limitations. How do you think I'm going to take a trip under these conditions?"

"Ah! You underestimate me. I have already found the solution for that. For some time now, I have been working on a prototype of a new wheelchair with a reinforced structure. I'm sure I can make it tough enough to withstand this trip."

Loki looked at him with his mouth slightly open.

"Presume that I accept this foolish plan. How do you intend to carry it out?"

"Well, I thought we could visit different tribes and just ask around to see if anyone can tell us something about the drought. In any of the many tribes, there must be someone who can tell us something useful right?"

"This plan of yours is completely ridiculous! Do you think that the other tribes will welcome us that easy? We have just been at war with most of them if you don't remember."

"I already thought about that too. In exchange for information, I think we could give them... knowledge."

"Knowledge?" Loki said incredulously.

"Yes! Do you remember Clint?"

"What does he have to do with anything?"

"Well, actually, he gave me this idea. When I met him, he suggested (rather he reproached me) that as a village, we could share our technology with the other tribes.

Maybe we could convey everything we have learned. Show them our inventions and advances, instead of saving them only for ourselves.

We could do this, at the same time we look for the information we need. It would be a win-win situation."

Loki looked at him without saying anything for a long moment.

"So... what do you say?" Tony insisted, a little nervous.

Loki sighed.

"Well, when do we start?"

"Wow! Wait. Are you serious?"

"I don't know what you expect to gain from all this, but I like the idea of making a trip. I used to be a great explorer. I liked to discover new routes to walk the branches of the great Yggdrasil tree. Some even started calling me Skywalker in honor of my great feats. I don't see why that has to change now."

"That doesn't surprise me at all." Tony said laughing. "Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's get ready for our next great adventure!"

As promised, Tony improved Loki's wheelchair. Now it had an ergonomic and resistant design. Its wheels had been reinforced to withstand any requirement of the road and coated to face the inclement weather.

For the trip, they conditioned a farm-cart and supplied it with everything necessary. They didn't know how long they would be on the road so they prepared for any scenario, equipped with enough water, food, and supplies.

On the day of departure, the entire village went to say goodbye and wish them a good trip.

Pepper made Loki swear he wouldn't let Tony do anything stupid and Peter solemnly promised them that he would take care of the village in their absence.

They left between hugs, good wishes, and promises of return.

Their first stop was Clint's tribe.

Seeing them, surprised, he approached laughing.

"I can't believe it! Look who's here. It's the powerful god Loki and the intrepid Tony Stark."

"I came to fulfill my promise." Tony said. "Didn't you tell me that I was a selfish jerk for not sharing the knowledge and technology of the village? Well, here I am."

"Yes, you are really here." And there was an affable smile on his face. Nothing further away from the tormented look Tony had seen when he had first met him.

Clint received them as honor guests. They met his family; An amiable wife and three adorable children.

The rest of the tribe received them with kindness and enthusiasm. They were curious about these strange travelers and interested in what they could offer them.

It wasn't difficult to spend time in their company. Things were different from what they were used to in the village but Tony and Loki really came to appreciate their differences.

The inhabitants of the tribe, were experts in the manufacture of bows and arrows (the best they had ever seen) and they also specialized in night hunting. Their natural ability for stealth and stalking made them excellent hunters and talented gatherers.

Despite living in a barren land, they seemed to take full advantage of the characteristics of the terrain.

Until now, they had managed to survive drought periods, detecting with real skill the places where groundwater could be found, and devising a very ingenious system that consisted of extracting the liquid from the surrounding plants.

It was a tribe that has survived by its cleverness and talent.

And yet... none of this had been enough.

It began gradually, with the sudden evaporation of water in the collection sectors and with the death of several of the animals. The weather was changing and the situation got worse and worse.

Temperatures increased and resources began to run out. These were difficult times and the tribe had to face long periods of scarcity. Because of this, they have already lost several of their members.

They tried everything in their power to remedy the situation, but the gods seemed unwilling to hear their prayers and the rain-summoning ceremonies had not given them any results. They truly reached the point of not knowing what else to do.

It was in that state of uncertainty that they welcome Tony and Loki. They helped them. All the knowledge they had implemented in their village was replicated in the tribe, adapting it to the needs of each of the inhabitants.

Everything was new to them, but they appreciate the change and the new growth opportunities.

The tribe then, began to prosper. Now they had enough resources to meet their needs and stock up for future periods of drought. They were better than they had been in a long time.

One night, they had a party. It was a celebration to honor the travelers and celebrate the progress of the tribe.

They ate, drank and some danced around the fire between applause and cheers. Laughter and chatter filled the atmosphere, while they rested lazily on the ground or happily joined the dances.

Loki enjoyed the atmosphere with a placid expression on his face when suddenly, he felt the weight of a glance over him. It was one of Clint's children. Nathaniel, if he remembered correctly.

"Why can't you move?" He asked bluntly.

A part of Loki had to be amused at his nonchalance. No one from the tribe was so direct with him. Here he was treated with the utmost respect, one that was sometimes even annoying.

This kid... He liked him. He had reminded Loki of something that he had lost. Some innocence, perhaps. The memory of being that young, once.

"I had a small accident when I fell from the sky and since then I can't move anything but my face. It was really horrible, there was a lot of blood." He replied with a somewhat malicious smile.

"Oh!" Nathaniel said, his face full of wonder and without a hint of fear. Loki wasn't sure if he fully understood the meaning of those words.

"Would you like to know what's beyond the stars?" He asked, and the boy nodded enthusiastically.

"Huh... He's good with children." Tony thought, smiling slightly when he saw Loki telling the most diverse stories. Nathaniel was sitting there on the floor and next to him, a large group of children had gathered around attracted by the story.

That night, Tony didn't tire of looking at him with the most irritating and insufferable smile Loki had ever seen perching on his features.

Despite the progress of the tribe, Tony and Loki had not been able to find out much about the climate problem.

Clint didn't have much information. His tribe was young and had grown up witnessing the progress of the drought. They didn't know anything about its origins, nor did they have any records about the land from before. It was hard for them to even imagine that there was once a different world, one overflowing with water and life.

Clint apologized for not being able to be more helpful but Tony and Loki had known from the beginning that gathering the information they needed wouldn’t be easy. This was only the first tribe they visited. There was still a long way to go.

They spent some months helping in what they could and when it was time to leave, they felt real regret at having to say goodbye to these people whom they had come to appreciate and admire.

Clint turned to them giving them a sincere hug and a friendly pat on the back.

"I shall not say goodbye, but farewell, my friends.” He said very seriously.

Turning to the crowd that had gathered to say goodbye to the travelers, Clint enunciated loud and clear.

"This friendship that has been forged between our tribe and the village is no longer just an alliance, it is more than that. From now on we are brothers, and this union will last for generations. Because no distance of place or lapse of time can undo what has joined us.

Because together we are stronger, because we both believe in a common ideal that is to defend peace at all costs. As long as those ideals are still alive, our brotherhood will last."

Thunderous applause broke across the crowd in a wave of almost ferocious fervor. Once the clamor was extinguished, smiling gently at Tony and Loki, Clint told them.

"Thank you. Through your actions and generosity, you have given us something truly valuable; the possibility of survival, have given us true life. Now we have reason to hope again."

A new round of cheers was heard from the crowd, but this time it was more peaceful, there was real significance in each of those applauds.

"Since words fail to convey the gratitude we feel, we have a small present for you."

Some inhabitants of the tribe broke through carrying various objects in their hands. Once in front of the travelers, they posed it at their feet as if they were presenting the very head of Mimir(1) as an offering.

There were baskets of food, water, and several wooden arches (a very valuable and scarce material), manufactured by the best craftsmen of the tribe.

Tony and Loki feeling moved, accepted the gifts while nodding respectfully.

"Thank you, my friends. Don't be strangers. I will be waiting for your return." Clint said with a wide smile.

Loki’s grin turns sly.

"We'll be back. If there's any solution to the climate problem, we will find it. And when we do it, don't doubt we'll be back."

Tony and Loki left with a hint of melancholy, but with renewed energies to continue their journey.

Walking sandy and cracked roads, they could see the true extent of the drought. I was really everywhere.

Tony doubted that someone from the village had ever entered these roads, so he gave himself the task of registering them and creating maps of those exotic distant lands.

They headed north.

The next tribe they visited was one that had fought against them in the war.

At first, they were met with distrust and aggressiveness, but when they realized whom Tony and Loki were, they give then access to their domains and offered their hospitality.

While there was still suspicion in their eyes, there was also respect there. Apparently their fame preceded them and had extended further than they thought.

They visited a few more tribes nearby.

It was always the same pattern; try to appease their distrust and show them with facts what they can do for them. If despite their efforts, the tribe decided they didn't want anything from them, they left in peace. But if their presence was well received, they helped in what they could, offering them their skills and knowledge.

Once they gained their trust, collecting information was not difficult. They asked each of the scholars of the different tribes, and yet they could not find anything relevant that would give them any clue about the climate problem.

Despite the discouraging situation, they didn't let that stop them. There was still much to see and discover.

One day, while walking on sandy plains, they saw a very strange figure in the distance. It was the silhouette of a redhead woman sitting on one side of the road. Her head was hidden between her legs and she was so still that if it weren't for the subtle movements of her breathing, they would have thought she wasn't alive at all.

For days they had walked desert lands without seeing anyone around, and now they found this person sitting in the middle of nowhere as if it were a ghost or an apparition.

They approached with caution and when they could observe closely, they noticed the sturdy moorings attached to her extremities. That was extremely disconcerting.

Who was this woman? Was she a fugitive? A prisoner?

Hearing footsteps, the girl looked up. She was a very beautiful woman and yet at seeing them, her face contorted in dread.

"Help me, please!" Her eyes filled with desperate tears. "Hurry! They will return at any time!"

When Tony approached, the woman flinch.

"Please don't hurt me. If you want, I can pay you. In my bag, I have water and food. Take everything you want but please help me." She said with a trembling voice and an open expression of fear.

"Hey, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you."

"That's what they said."

"Tony…" Loki said as a warning "We should keep going, this is none of our business."

"I know. But we can't just leave her here."

Then Tony was giving him that pleading look that never failed to make him doubt his convictions. Actually, It was slightly exasperating. What was Loki supposed to do with a look like that?

"Okay, but you have only one minute, not a second more. You help her and then we continue on our way."

"Understood." He said cheerfully.

Tony stopped the horses and then got out of the cart. Slowly, he approached the girl.

"What's your name?"

She hesitated for a moment "Natasha."

"I'm Tony and the one over there with an annoyed face, is Loki."

She looked at him with fear.

"Don't worry, I'm just going to free you from these moorings."

Tony reached out, when suddenly, with a swift movement, she had him lying on his back on the floor.

"What?" Was all he had time to think, before the same ties that should have been imprisoning the girl, were now on his hands and feet.

Crouched beside him, she began to search his immobilized body, taking out any object she considered valuable, to then put it in her bag.

She was graceful and sure, with an unmistakable deadly edge in her movements. Loki could almost be impressed.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to take all this." Her eyes were thoroughly cool and dispassionate, extremely different from that tearful and weak girl who just a moment ago was crying for help.

"Fascinating as this conversation is, I feel I must interrupt." Loki said from the cart.

Hearing him, the woman suddenly stopped. She examined him with a critical and assessing gaze, the only visible hint to her thoughts and then, moving cautiously, began to approach.

Loki's more intelligent self, informed him dryly that he probably ought to have a plan. The rest of him was not terribly interested.

"You haven't attacked me." She said. "Why?"

"I can't, I'm paralyzed." Loki said with a crooked half smile.

She said nothing more, just nodded slightly.

Anyone would have taken the assertion of his paralysis as an opportunity to loot freely the rest of the objects from the cart, however, she only seemed more cautious.

She approached, but suddenly, stopped dead.

"I feel something strange in you. You... are not human."

"Ah! wasn’t that interesting? The girl is more perceptive than he gave her credit for." Loki thought.

With a smile, he told her nonchalantly.

"Maybe its because I'm an alien that comes from the stars, landed on planet earth who now helps humanity."

Natasha looked at him for a moment without blinking.

"Then I think I'll leave you alone. I don't like to get involved with powers that I can't understand. You can keep the rest of your things, however, I take this." She said pointing to the bag that had Tony's stuff.

She turned around to leave.

"Wait! Are you serious?" Tony yelled. "Is that all? He tells you that he is an extraterrestrial and you just believe him. Don't you even think this is a little strange?" He said somewhat exasperated.

"I've seen stranger things." She said with a shrug.

Loki laughed.

"Tell me, Natasha… Do you know the surroundings well?"

She looked at him suspiciously.

"Yes…"

"Then, I would like to make a deal."

Loki looked at Tony, and something passed between them unspoken. Tony smiled and nodded softly.

"What kind of deal?"

"I wanted to ask you to be our guide."

Natasha's eyes widened slightly and her eyebrows raised. she seemed puzzled.

"The truth, we have been walking in circles for several days and we could use your knowledge to take us to the nearest tribe. I can promise you that you will not lack food and I can pay you with a series of valuable objects that I am sure will capture your attention.

What do you say? We could help each other."

Natasha looked him in the eye. She didn't break her gaze, nor said nothing for several minutes. It seemed as if she was looking for some particular expression in him. Loki was beginning to suspect that she was not going to respond at all when, suddenly, the tension in her features subtly eased.

"I accept. We have a deal."

"Good!" Loki said. "shall we?"

Without further ado, Natasha climbed into the cart, positioning herself in the front. When she saw the reins, she picked them up in her hands looking at them curiously. She moved them from top to bottom and after a few attempts, she got the horses to start walking.

Loki was sure she hadn't seen a cart in her life.

"Yes, really interesting..." He thought.

"Hey! I'm still tied here!" Tony shouted when he saw the cart go away. "Don't you dare to leave me!"

As promised, Natasha was their guide and led them to the next tribe.

The road was hard, so upon arrival, she had no choice but to stay and seek shelter among the locals. The plan was to recover and stock up on supplies to embark on a new trip.

For their part, Tony and Loki kept busy doing what had become almost a routine; help with their knowledge and try to discover new clues that would lead them to find out more about the drought.

Natasha watched them work very closely.

She observed their efforts to help the inhabitants and the stubborn determination with which they carried out each of their tasks.

She watched mothers smile when their children were recovering from deadly diseases and those open expressions of gratitude when they realized they were finally making progress.

She contemplated all this from a distance, with a feeling similar to astonishment and some confusion. Frankly, she didn't understand it. What led men like them to act this way? They had no obligation to these people. On the contrary, they were from another tribe, potential enemies. Why help them? Why give all that knowledge and effort without seemingly getting anything in return?

Natasha had many questions and no answers. Maybe that's why, when an old lady approached and asked if she could help her with her crops, despite taking her by surprise, she accepted.

She wasn’t sure if she did it out of curiosity, a genuine desire to analyze the situation, or perhaps a mere whim. She didn't even understand why suddenly this was so important. Why did it bother her so much? Why did she feel this sudden need to understand, to look for some kind of answer?

Whatever the reason, she agreed to help, and gave herself to the task as she did everything; meticulously, tenaciously and efficiently.

She spent a big part of the day preparing the land and planting the field. She had watched as the people of the tribe did it and it was not difficult to replicate their actions.

She worked hard while the inclement sun was rising on the horizon and didn't stop until every inch of the field was perfectly tilled.

At nightfall, she saw the same old lady who had asked her for help, approaching the distance.

"Young lady," she called. "I was making some food and I have some extra. Would you like some?"

Natasha looked up for a moment, then stood up and approached. Standing there, she saw her holding a pot that seemed to contain a steaming soup.

The old lady held the pot with difficulty. Her hands were shaking slightly and a small drop of sweat decorated her forehead due to the effort to prevent its contents from spilling.

Natasha thought for a moment about rejecting the food offer, but a distant voice in her mind told her maybe that might sound rude. "Thank you," she said, taking the pot slowly. “I appreciate it.”

The old lady looked at her. "Would you like to come inside my tent and join me? One more moment and you will not want to be outside. When the sun goes down, the night wind can be really merciless."

"I don't want to be a bother..." Natasha started to say, but the old lady had already grabbed her arm and was trying to pull her inside.

"Nonsense!" She said. "Besides, the food always tastes better in company."

Natasha let the old lady pull her over the threshold of her tent.

It was a poor home, she can say that much, even poorer than the rest of the tribe, but the lady sat her near the fire and put a blanket over her.

"When I mentioned my crops, you came out very quickly to help me. That was very kind of you, but I feel we couldn't have yet a decent conversation. My name is Claire. Would you mind telling me yours?"

"It's Natasha."

"Well Natasha, I sincerely appreciate your help. If it wasn't for you... well, let's say this would not be a good winter for me. These are hard times. Not many people take the time to help each other, but you young lady, did it, and that's something that I deeply thank you for."

Natasha blinked. She stared at her, and then, blinked again.

A solid silence stretched between them.

Ms. Claire didn't seem to mind at all.

"Well, go ahead. You can eat, it is not poisoned." She said.

That got Natasha out of her momentary astonishment, reminding her of the pot of food she still held in her hands.

"You know, I used to be the tribe's cooker. I was really good, if I do say so myself." Ms. Claire said with a note of pride in her voice. "However... my hands are no longer what they used to be." She lifted her sleeves. In her hands, slight tremors could be seen running through all her fingers and reverberating to the top of her forearm.

"I can't make my preparations with the same precision as before, but that has never stopped me, I haven't stopped cooking. It's what I love and I will continue to do it until I can no longer move at all." Her voice was fierce and defensive. It suddenly occurred to Natasha, that perhaps it was not the first time she had had to repeat those words.

"But I won't say anything else. I'll let you judge for yourself and tell me what you think. But...," she raised a finger as a warning "if you don't like it, don't you dare to lie to me, young lady. I am old, but I am not fragile like a leaf. I can endure some criticism."

With a movement, she urged her to eat. "Come on, my dear. It's going to get cold!"

Natasha doubt for a moment. She approached the pot to her lips and finally drank. The taste exploded in her mouth in a perfect blend of spices, textures, and fragrances. It was an infinitely superior change of those improvised meals, prepared with the little she managed to find along on the road.

Something gentle and comforting spread through her senses.

The food strangely tasted like gratitude.

It tasted like care.

It tasted like welcome...

In her mind, she had the vague notion that she had once had these thoughts before, that she had felt something like this with someone else, a very dear person... And with that, a feeling of dread began welling up in her stomach. She shuddered and pushed it back down.

"It's delicious. Thank you."

"I'm glad you liked it." Ms. Claire said with a big smile.

"You are not going to eat?"

"Oh don't worry honey, I'm not hungry." She replied.

But a long time ago, Natasha had learned to detect when someone lied to her. Being a thief had made her develop certain skills, and something at the moment, told her that Ms. Claire wasn't being completely honest.

She suddenly remembered the old woman's words when she invited her to her home. Ms. Claire had mentioned having extra food, but when Natasha looked around, she saw the crock completely empty by the fire. There were no more ingredients around. She realized that there was no trace of food in the entire tent.

And then the revelation hit her like she had received a slap in her face

She has been a fool. How could she not have noticed before? This lady barely had anything to eat and still decided to give her what little she had in gratitude.

She felt a pang.

Something small and ugly began to emerge from inside, like a stone that hit her hard at her core. Natasha thought it might have been guilt or shame.

This was a dish prepared especially for her. To her, a complete stranger. This lady had invited her to her home, she had put all her effort into this preparation. She was honoring her with her work and her own hands, hands already taint by age and disease. She had offered her the only and most important thing she possessed.

Natasha had no right to be here, she had no right to take advantage of this meal or this kindness and yet she couldn't avoid the small hint of gratitude that suddenly erupted inside her. No one had done something like that for her, not since he died.

Feelings…. Long ago, Natasha had taught herself not to feel. Pain, empathy, guilt, none of that had any importance when she had to survive.

Kindness…. In her life, there was no room for that. She had to fight, defend herself, procure food. She had lived like this for so long that she had already accepted it as an inevitable part of herself.

And yet, this lady gave her kindness so free. As if it were something easy to give, as if she deserved it.

Natasha had a formidable nothingness in her chest, which had sustained her for so long, but now her ribs were beginning to crack as that nothingness swelled too large. Suddenly, she felt very tired.

Making a sudden decision, she raised her chin, and looking at Ms. Claire's straight in the eye, she said very seriously.

"Thank you very much for the food. I will be back. I wouldn't like to leave without being able to ensure that the seeds I planted will germinate properly."

"Oh dear, don't worry. You have already done enough for me. You don't have to spend more of your time. You are young and surely you have more important things to do…"

"I insist." Natasha said, in a tone that made no room for discussion.

Ms. Claire looked at her for a moment and then smiled, crinkling the lines around her mouth and eyes.

"Thank you. You're very kind. It really must have been destiny... I'm very grateful that it decided to put you in my pat."

She didn't know what to answer to that, so she didn't say anything else.

The following days passed in a quick amalgam of chores.

She watered the crops daily, accurately calculating the amount of water needed. She took care to fertilize the land. She collected meticulously any weeds that could hinder the growth of plants and deal with the revetment of the soil.

It was hard work, but she did it with real discipline and efficiency.

Ms. Claire often worried about her well-being, urging her to rest when she considered that she had been working too much.

She continued to prepare delicious dishes, which they shared at the end of the day, sitting together in peaceful silence. They were humble meals, prepared with the few ingredients that Ms. Claire managed to collect, but which, never failed to make Natasha feel that comforting warm in her chest that gave her renewed energy to continue her work.

At first, Natasha didn't know how to react to this kind of attention. She felt uncomfortable, anxious. Her thoughts kept trying to twist in strange directions, and she often found herself trying to keep them on a tight leash. She felt curiously... helpless. The ground just seemed to keep shifting under her feet, and yet at the same time, the primary emotion was... relief.

Contrary to her expectations, those interactions soon became almost a routine, a strange and unexpected normality.

Days passed.

Sometimes, Natasha felt that someone was watching her closely. She felt the weight of a look pressing hard against her nape.

By mere presentiment, she began to suspect Tony and Loki, however, every time she looked at them, she found them immersed in their own tasks, without giving any indication that they had been watching her at all.

Anyone would have ruled out suspicions as mere delirium, but Natasha was a person who had learned to trust her instincts. She was being watched, there was no doubt about it. That was extremely disconcerting and somewhat intriguing.

What was their goal? What did they want to achieve with their scrutiny? But it was useless to ask. She knew that for the moment, she only had to wait and observe. Sooner or later, time would reveal their true intentions.

Natasha worked hard until the plants grew and then eventually became vegetables. With a sense of pride, she began to reap the fruit of her work.

That afternoon, as a celebration, Ms. Claire prepared a delicious and generous dish with what was collected. Sitting watching the sunset, they ate slowly, solemnly. That meal that was the result of so much effort and patience, filled Natasha with a deep sense of satisfaction.

She had always been just a thief. Her job was to take rather than give. She was used to destroying, not to create.

There was a degree of true delight in seeing the crops grow from a simple seed. Being able to feel her own hands leading the way so that a new life could take shape was something that couldn't stop surprising her.

"The day has come, isn't it? You must leave." Ms. Claire said suddenly.

"Of course not. I can't leave. What will happen to the crops? How will you collect food for next winter? You are not in a position to do it alone."

"Don't worry, dear. Those kind young men, Tony and Loki, just yesterday told me some pretty good news.

Apparently, they were chatting with the people of the tribe, and as compensation for their services, they asked for a favor for... me.

They requested that there were specially designated people to help me with my crops and, if possible, assist me in any task related to the acquisition of food."

Natasha looked at her in surprise.

"The people of the tribe accepted immediately. They said it was the least they could do for everything Tony and Loki had done for them. You can imagine my surprise when the leaders approached me and informed me that they had organized all the inhabitants so that together, they could give me the necessary help.

And then, the most amazing thing happen. They told me that from now on, they will do the same for anyone who cannot procure food for themselves.

I never thought I'd come to see the day when we could reach such a level of unity. We have gone through difficult times. Moments came where each of our members had no choice but to look after themselves. but I think we have now reached a point where we can afford to support each other. I think we are finally mature enough to learn that there's no shame in helping or being helped."

Ms. Claire smiled. It was such a bright smile that it could make anyone believe that life was good.

"As you can see, you don't have to worry about me anymore."

"Tony and Loki arranged all this..." Natasha thought in amazement. And that made her wonder how closely they had been watching her.

"Can I tell you something?" Ms. Claire said carefully.

Natasha nodded.

"You are a very sweet girl. You remind me of my daughter; she was very serious, just like you." She said with a small chuckle. "But she always tried to do her best in any circumstance. Her kindness was evident to anyone who dared to look closer."

"Well, she must be very fortunate to have such an understanding mother."

"She…. she passed away a couple of years ago." Her voice was perfectly calm.

Natasha felt the urge to wince.

"I'm sorry, I..." Her answer seemed awkward, meaningless.

"Oh no, don't feel sorry." Ms. Claire said smiling kindly. "She hasn't left my side completely, I'm sure of that. I can still feel her... she is in the wind that whistles in the afternoon and caresses my face, in the silent stars that shine at night and light my way, or even, in the infinite firmament. She is everywhere, accompanying me, always."

In the distance, twilight slowly poured through the mountains and a light breeze stirred her hair in the direction of the wind.

Suddenly, Natasha's eyes ached with an intense feeling and her heart wrenched in a way she had never believed herself capable of feeling.

"You know, many people think that because I am old, I should be someone sullen and gloomy, but it's not so. In fact, I am very happy." Ms. Claire approached Natasha with an accomplice smile. "Do you want to know my secret?"

"Yes, I would really like that."

"Just follow your heart." She said as she pointed to her chest. "If you do that, I promise you will be surprised. All the rest it figures it out itself."

Ms. Claire paused, pressed her lips together and then bent to kiss her cheek.

Natasha glanced up sharply in surprise. Her mouth hung parted as though in a daze.

Her hand rose slowly until her fingertips pressed gently against her cheek as if she were touching something extremely delicate and valuable.

When she needed them most, it seemed, her words chose to desert her.

"Thank you." It was all she could say, and Ms. Claire nodded.

"Take care, Natasha. I have found a friend in you. I don't know if I'll see you again but here you'll always have a place to call your home."

Standing at the doors of the tribe, Tony Loki and Natasha, were ready to leave.

The inhabitants approached them to thank them. There was real regret when they said goodbye and sincerity when they said they appreciated all the provided help.

Once out of the tribe's grounds, Natasha felt suddenly awkward, she knew that she'd overstayed her welcome.

"I've to go. I didn't mean to stay so long." She said, starting to walk. And if it seemed more like a flee, none of them made any comment about it.

"Wait! I think we made a great team there, don't you think? Maybe... you would like to come with us?" Tony said tentatively.

"Go with you? why would I do that?"

"I don't know, maybe... you liked what we did here? Look, I may be overstepping here. Actually, I'm just guessing, but I think this experience was not entirely unpleasant for you. I wonder if maybe you would like to travel with us and help us?"

Natasha looked bewildered. Some minutes passed in complete silence.

"Let's make a deal." Loki said finally, with a sigh. "How about you accompany us to the next tribe? If you don't like it, you can leave at any time, right? but if you stay, well... you are free to decide for yourself what's next.”

Natasha frowned. "I should go... I don't know what I'm still doing here." She told herself. But for some reason just thinking about wandering again without a fixed destination on desert roads, filled her with sorrow as deep as the vast landscape that lay ahead.

"Just follow your heart." Ms. Claire's words echoed in her.

And with that thought, Natasha suddenly realized that she'd already made up her mind. "I must be mad." she told herself. But for some reason, it was a strangely exuberant madness.

Against what seemed to be her best judgment, she nodded assent and left with them.

Time passed. No other mention was made about Natasha's departure and soon the days became months.

She now actively participated in helping the different tribes they visited.

She offered to teach new farming practices to the inhabitants and since she was a good fighter, she entrusted herself with the task of training them in multiple combat techniques. To defend against enemies and thieves, she had said.

Looking at her, Loki often thought she seemed comfortable doing this. If he didn't know better, he would say she looked even happy.

Natasha's attitude gradually began to change. Her posture was less rigid and she no longer seemed constantly on guard.

She and Loki developed a strange relationship, it could almost be described as friendship, but he wasn't sure those were exactly the words.

Most of the time, Loki couldn't decide if he was displeased or amused with her, which was intriguing in itself and interesting, extremely interesting. The woman was a real puzzle. Unveiling those layers of her personality became almost a game to him, one she dodged with grace and skill.

Sometimes, she stared at him thoughtfully and Loki could only assume that she was also analyzing him. Often, he wondered what she had gleaned of him, but never vocalized his doubts, wondering was part of the game, after all.

Being with her was... Pleasant. Was pleasant, he could admit that.

One night, after an arduous day of walking, the group stopped to rest.

They set up a small camp and lit a fire. They sat around and began to prepare some food.

"I hope you thought about packing some alcoholic beverage. I feel like taking up a bad habit." Loki told Tony, with a smile that could almost be described as cheeky.

"Of course! I packed the best cider in the village. Distilled with nothing less than my own hands."

"Mmm not bad." Loki said after drinking. "Although a little soft for my taste."

"Ha! I forgot your super-human resistance to alcohol, I promise next time to make something worthy to knock out a horse, just for you, honey."

Loki gave him a sharp smile. "Every time there is alcohol involved you start calling me pet names. I really despise it."

"That's kind of the point, sweetcheeks." Tony said with a mischievous smile.

Natasha looked momentarily like she wanted to roll her eyes.

"What is this you call ‘alcohol’?" She inquired curiously looking at the leather bag Tony held in his hands.

"It's a beverage that produces a calming and stimulating effect. I don't think you would like it,  it's very strong and..."

In a heartbeat, Natasha had taken Tony's bag and drank several sips of its contents as if it were water.

"Or you can simply do what you want…"

"I like it, but Loki is right, it's a bit soft."

"So we agree on something. I think this would be the first time." Loki said amused.

"Don't let it go to your head." She said seriously, but in her voice, a slightly mocking tone could be heard.

The conversation then led to more mundane subjects. Loki and Tony traded tales of their past, their present and their time together. Or rather, Tony did most of the talk and Loki occasionally contributed with scathing and eloquent comments.

Natasha looked at them both consecutively with a seemingly impassive look on her face, however, every time one of the stories turned out to be especially funny, her mouth twitched like she was trying not to let her smile grow too much.

"And what about you, Natasha? What's your story?" Tony asked suddenly.

"My story?" The slight rise of her eyebrows was the only indication of her surprise.

"I haven't done anything worth mentioning in a story.

I am a thief. This is how I have made a living since I was very young. It's what I do best and in a place as austere as this, it is what allows me to survive."

Natasha's voice was even and inexpressive, and anyone but the trickster might have bought the act.

It was just a moment, the barest fluttering against the back of her eyes. It was barely noticeable, but Loki saw it. That guilt and remorse that slipped and pressed itself to the murky glass of her clear eyes. Just an instant and then the emotion was gone, bound with all the other feelings that shouldn’t be seen. However, it was too late, Loki had seen.

"I know many places because I'm a traveler." Natasha continued. "Actually, I've been walking for a long time. I've been wandering for longer than I can remember but I prefer it that way, the place I left was not very pleasant."

"Ah, a runaway! Well, I'm not who to judge. I also left my old home. Well, if you count as "leaving", the fact of throwing yourself into the void of space with all the intentions of dying, only to land on planet Earth by a mere whim of fate." Loki said lightly.

"Do you have someone waiting for you in that place you left?" Natasha asked suddenly, very seriously.

Loki blinked a little, slightly taken off guard by the question.

For a moment, he didn't know how to respond. His first impulse was to say a resounding no, but the words died on his tongue before they even reached his lips.

Perhaps it was the suddenness of the question, or perhaps it was that his defenses weren’t as firm as they used to be, but Loki couldn't help when the image of his family appeared on his mind.

"What were they doing, what were they feeling...? Have they even mourned me at all?" He wondered. "They probably forgot you already."A small murmur said in the back of his mind. But that thought made him flinch, and he pushed it away.

"I don't know." He said instead, struggling to keep his voice even, not to give away the sudden wash of emotion that had swamped him.

Tony looked at him briefly, somewhat worried, but then turned to Natasha.

"And what about you?" He asked gently.

"No, nobody is waiting for me." She said emphatically and then, after a little pause she added, "But once there was someone, although that was a long time ago."

“You were... close?" Tony said, carefully.

Natasha nodded. "His name was Ivan. He was part of the group of men who abducted me from my tribe and murdered all its inhabitants."

It was such an abrupt confession that even Tony seemed unsure of what to say next.

"Wow, he sounds like a great guy." Loki said, letting his tone communicate his sarcasm.

"Actually, he was." Natasha said calmly. "He may have been part of that group of murderers, but he wasn't there voluntarily. He was a prisoner, just like me. He helped me and saved my life, even in more ways than one…" She was silent for a moment and her eyes shone golden with the reflection of the fire.

"How old were you when they...?" Tony asked.

"About 7 years. I was young, but I still remember how those red-skinned men came to my tribe and for no apparent reason razed everything they saw. They stole what little we had. They captured me. When I looked around, I saw that every man, woman, and child, was dead. I was the only one left alive."

"I'm sorry, it must have been very difficult." Tony said.

Natasha shrugged.

"It was all I ever knew. They raised me and taught me to steal and survive.

They wanted someone to help them cheat and trick. A tool to be used as they see fit."

"Young, pretty, with an innocent face like yours... you are the perfect bait, irresistible. Especially for the kind of men that few miss." The band chief said while stroking her face gently.

"Dear Natasha… you and I are going to make a great team."

Around them, the inert bodies of the tribe were scattered on the ground. Their limbs were bent in irregular forms and those eyes that were once full of life were now empty and vacant.

Natasha looked at the bodies while those words reverberated in her mind. More than a promise, they sounded like a condemnation, a presage.

"But I never fooled myself." Natasha said. "I was never anything but an object for them. Expendable and replaceable. My only value resided in what I could do and the results I could get." Her expression turns harder then, more severe. "For me, they will always be the ones who took my childhood from me."

There was a long silence after that. It seemed that Natasha was thousands of miles away, lost in her memories.

"But Ivan... he was different." She said. Her voice so very gentle. "He was good to me from the first time we met. He treated me kindly and always kept extra food for me despite it sometimes being scarce.

He was the one who taught me to defend myself. He was not an expert fighter, but what he knew, he had learned by watching others fight and copying their movements.

Generally, we practiced at night when nobody could saw us.

We used a small, worn-out weapon that he kept hidden from the others, one he had stolen once from a robbery.

'It doesn't matter if they think you are weak, they will never know how strong you can become,' he used to tell me.

One day, I asked him how it was that he had ended up in that place. I still remember clearly the look in his eyes. I didn't understand it at the time, but now I know, it was a look of deep and bitter regret."

"I'm going to tell you a story..." Ivan said, with a sad smile on his face, dark circles under his eyes.

"You see, a long time ago, in a small tribe, there was a child who had everything he could care about in this world. Security, food, a good place to live. And he had an adorable older sister who took care of him with a lot of love. He couldn't ask for anything else, he was very happy. But one day, the red-skin men arrived at his tribe and destroyed everything that was dear to him, consuming everything in his path like hungry beasts.

The boy survived because his sister protected him, but she didn't have the same luck. Those beasts taint her, they devour her entirely. Her lifeless body was scattered on the ground as if it were only meat, an empty shell, absolutely nothing. His precious sister sacrificed her life for him, but the boy never thought that this was a worthy exchange. He was weak. If he had been strong, he could have protected what was important to him.

Despite his sister's efforts, the boy was discovered and captured. The red-skin men found a sign of fate he had survived, so instead of killing him, they took him as a prisoner. The boy was forced to serve his enemies, the same men that had caused him so much suffering.

But... time passed. Many moons crossed the firmament, and that child became a man. Since then, he has been waiting, he has been practicing, he has been patient. They don't know what he has been harboring all these years in his heart, and one day, that man will show everyone what he is capable of. He will destroy his enemies and he will be free, finally free.

It's dangerous to keep people like us caged.” He said, looking her straight in the eye. “We're like wild tigers, we can't be tamed. You are my little tigress and I will protect you. I'm not going to make the same mistakes of the past again, I promise you that."

"It's strange... I don't know why, but he reminds me of you sometimes." Natasha said looking at Loki, her voice almost distant.

Loki felt a strange cold sensation that seeped through his spine.

"How did you escape from them?" He asked quietly.

"It wasn't something immediate, several years passed. Being with them was hard but it became tolerable. Ivan and me were a team. While we were together, I knew we could face anything.

Everything stayed the same for a while, almost a routine, until... something began to change.

When I grew up, the band chief started treating me differently. I was no longer a child for him, I had become a woman."

Natasha noticed that the boss's attitude became strange, unpredictable.

What might once have been a controlling grip on her shoulder, turned to a lingering touch a bit higher, finger brushing against her exposed neck. An angry grip on her forearm became a persistent hand on her wrist, moving against her skin.

At first, Natasha didn't know what was happening, but the repulsion she felt at those touches was such that they burned in her mind for hours, making her skin crawl and her stomach churn.

When she finally decided to tell Ivan what had happened, she would never see a more dangerous look like the one that was reflected in his eyes that day.

They both knew that the situation had reached its limit. They would escape that same night.

"We had everything planned, but nothing is ever so easy, isn't it?"

Loki met Tony's eyes.

"They heard about our plan and attacked us. They had us surrounded. I really thought that was our end, but... it wasn't.

Everything happened so fast. Ivan took out his weapon, the same one we used to train every night and rushed towards the bandit group. I think I'll never see anything like that again. He faced each of them with a fury that seemed to want to go through his skin. Everyone in the band was dangerous killers, each of them, but Ivan killed them all, even the powerful group leader.

However, the effort didn't leave him unscathed. In the fight, he had received a death wound. Dying on the floor, he gave me the only true smile I ever saw perched on his lips."

"So this is the end, isn't it?"

"No." Natasha said. "You're going to recover, you'll see. And we will start over, just as we had planned. Together."

"No, little tigress. I really regret not being able to accompany you on this trip, but I know you'll get ahead. You're strong, you always have been."

Tears blurred Natasha's gaze for a moment.

"You deserve more than this life, I know you're destined for something else, I knew from the moment I saw you. Thanks, little one, thanks for transforming into my happiness and redemption.” Ivan said, raising his hand to gently touch her cheek.

Natasha leaned toward that touch cradling that hand between hers.

Ivan's irregular breathing resounded like faint gasps in the silence of the night until suddenly, his hand fell to the ground, losing its strength.

"Are you still there, tigress? I can't see you, it's as if suddenly the stars had gone out and the night had swallowed everything."

"I'm here." She said with some desperation in her voice. Ivan's chest rose erratically, and blood began to slowly accumulate around him. Trembling slightly, Natasha stroked his face.

"Good…" He said with a smile. "I feel very tired. Could you… could you stay until I close my eyes?” He asked softly. Natasha's eyes were sad when she kissed the top of his head. "Yes, I'll stay until you sleep."

"He left this world, calmly. I am sure that wherever he is, he found peace." Natasha's voice was slightly unsteady even though her eyes were dry and calm.

"I couldn't just leave his body lying there for the crows, so I buried him, and then left without looking back.

It didn’t seem there was anything else to do, so I picked a direction and started walking. Actually, I've been walking since then.

I wish I could say that I listened to him, that I lived my life differently, just as he wanted, but I didn't, I'm still a thief. I don't think I can do anything else, it's the only thing I'm good at.

He was my family. I never met my parents or had any siblings, but I think he was the closest to a family I ever had."

Natasha's words were repeated in his mind and suddenly, Loki felt sick. No, not sick. Nostalgic. He missed them, he realizes, his family.

He missed Frigga, Thor, and even Odin with such force so it almost ached.

Frigga... He could almost hear her smiling. He thought of her gaze and the sound of her voice, soft and understanding. She had always struggled to get the best of him, even when everyone else seemed to have given up on him.

She was his mother. And if she didn't have that title by blood, she definitely was it in everything that really mattered. Loki was her son, in his heart, he always had been.

He thought of Odin saying "No, Loki", but he also remembered all the other occasions he had said "yes" and his heart skipped a beat. He thought of the boy he used to be, desperate for his father's recognition and approval, and the realization that he wasn’t that person anymore, it felt like a weight lifted on his shoulders, a hilarious kind of freedom.

His thoughts circled back to Thor and suddenly he felt an intense need to talk to him, to be with him. He missed him with a physical ache that hurt him right down to the base of his spine. It was something so sudden and intense, that Loki caught his breath before his distress gave him away.

There were so many things that were left unfinished between them. "What he was doing now? Have he ever thought of me as more than just a burden? A curse? Have he come to... forgive me?"

"Don't think about them anymore." He told himself. "This is all immaterial, they are out of your reach, lost." And then another voice overlapped the previous one and murmured at the back of his mind. "It's permissible to miss the people sometimes, you don't need to pretend..."

Not knowing what to do with this, he forced himself to concentrate on Natasha.

"Actually, I hadn't thought of Ivan for a long time." She said, after several moments of silence. “I guess the memory of his death was very painful. Still is."

"Family can be a difficult issue." Loki offered, swallowing hard. If he wasn't careful, he’d come across as sounding far too wistful.

She said nothing more, just looked at the fire in silence.

Loki met Tony's eyes and he gave him a rather pointed look. Loki couldn't help but get the feeling he'd been vastly overestimated if he thought he'd be competent enough to be some source of comfort or reassurance.

What was he supposed to do? There was nothing he could have said to make it any better, it wasn't as if he knew Natasha well enough to know what she'd want to hear.

After a moment of deliberating, Loki spoke.

"My relationship with my family was never an easy topic for me either. I suppose that for a long time the rancor lodged in me until it began to rot.

I spent many years stuck in resentment. I wasted many years never trusting anyone, least of all myself. 

I let go... I made that decision. It didn't occur to me that there was another way to go. I thought there was no longer a place for me, that it had been brutally taken away. A ripped space that no matter how hard I tried, there was no way to ever get it back.

But I was wrong. Things do change, and I realized it in the most unexpected place of all."

He turned to Tony. In his eyes, a look full of significance.

"I'm not saying you forgive people who hurt you, but maybe even though things aren’t the way they’re supposed to be, things have changed enough to be better."

Natasha frowned. "I don't know why you try to help me. I've done nothing to deserve your kindness. Moreover, from the first moment we met, I did nothing but try to deceive you. I don't think you should trust me that easy."

“Aw, so you do care.” Tony said.

“You don’t know what I’ve done.” She said, and her voice sounded hollow, sad.

"No, maybe not." Tony acknowledged. "But I know a little about what you're doing now. Maybe that matters more?"

Natasha turned her eyes towards him, bewildered, but after a moment her face softened and her eyes acquired a kind tone "There's definitely something not working properly in your heads." She said finally, with a slight smile.

And Loki thought this one had a little more of truth in it.

The silence that followed was far more companionable. Overhead, the waning moon shone behind the silkiness of the clouds. A light breeze stirred their hair and the sounds of the night became suddenly, a comforting embrace.

Eventually, Tony glanced between Loki and Natasha as though he was trying to work something out.

"You know... I hope you have noticed that you both are more alike than you realize. I haven't decided yet if that's a good thing or a bad thing... What I mean, is that I firmly believe that you are good for each other, yet also the worst match I have ever seen."

"We're nothing alike." The two of them said at the same time, looking at Tony with identical irritated looks.

Tony then, burst into laughter and at seeing him, Loki snorted amused.

Natasha paused. The irritation vanished and was replaced by a surge of something that caught her by surprise.

It began to hum in her chest or stomach, a strange feeling she couldn't quite pin down nor wanted to examine too closely.

There was something suddenly warm about that, and she suddenly felt as if something that had been long buried in her wanted to get out. Like a single blooming flower that made her chest feel almost uncomfortably full.

Her heart ached vaguely. She felt... naked, exposed. At once cornered and at the same time as if she had found some kind of liberation; or as if she’d stepped into an unknown path without intending to, but what she had found there instead of frightening was soothingly warm.

She closed her eyes and smiling, let that feeling engulfing her completely.

Chapter Text

The following days were hard. They traveled for several days without finding any trace of a new tribe.

The nights were warm and dry, which made them sleep restlessly. The stifling air made it impossible to rest inside the carriage, so they spent their rest hours outdoors, lying beneath the slowly turning stars.

In the morning, at dawn, Tony would build a small fire and warmed small cups of a liquor he had brewed, strong and fragrant with herbs. He insisted on the invigorating strength it would give them to embark again on a new journey.

Many afternoons sank into the early night. Day after day the sun fell somewhere behind the mountains, and it dragged great streaks of red and orange and purple across the faint starlight.

They headed northeast with their carriage, and as they advanced, the road became increasingly wild and bare. The air was heavy and the heat stifling.

Two weeks of walking brought them to sheer land. With difficulty, they reached the summit of a high and cold plateau. They could see the mountains as a waving gray sea, featureless and unbroken.

After a few more days of walking, they approached a large mountain that stood out from the others.

What had seemed like simple rocks from afar, as they got closer, transformed into something completely different. Taking advantage of the natural concavities and grooves of the mountain, someone had sculpted a large structure that blends perfectly with the natural form. It was large, offering an overwhelming and imposing view.

The old structure howled in the dune winds, the mineral siding whining and dust drifted off into the air.

“I remember hearing a story like this on one of my trips,” Natasha said.

“It talked about a very ancient tribe that one day abandoned fertile lands to go live among the mountains. Nobody knows why they did it. Some said it was to escape a war, others said there was great wealth in this sector, and others simply said they had some secret to conceal. Whatever the reason, they have remained hidden since then. "They live in seclusion, without any contact with the other tribes."

“That doesn't sound strange at all,” Tony said wryly.

“Well, if they are such an ancient tribe, we should definitely go and talk to them. They may have some information that can be useful to us” Loki said.

They circled the mountain until they found a path. The space was narrow, so they had to leave the carriage and begin the ascent on foot.

Tony was pushing the wheelchair and Natasha followed behind. They walked slowly and cautiously.

The scenery opened as if they were passing through an ancient city, with zigzagging paths, and desolate passages from some immemorial time.

From time to time, they would come across certain paintings on the mountain walls. They were representations of strange humanoid shapes, which, they assumed, told a story. They couldn't decipher what it said, but the twisted shapes and figures in tormented poses made them assume it was some kind of warning.

A drawing caught their attention; it was a portrait of a man with empty and gloomy eyes. A riot of green could be seen against a dark background. His face was gaunt and hungry, hollow-cheeked. Short black hair, pale. Half of his face seemed to be looking directly at you, as if his eyes could follow you, while the other half was hidden in the shadows, his mouth curling into a cruel sneer.

Loki quavers slightly, just the barest of tremors, and tried not to look at it. There was something in that stare. Something greedy and carnivorous, malevolent, and brutal, and yet, there was another part too, something like grief, something like fear.

After that, they decided to just stop looking at the drawings and pick up the pace.

The way was rough and irregular, made the climb more difficult due to the small rocks that fell on the ground with each step. It took them longer than they thought to reach the top; They had to backtrack a few times around overly large boulders, and even a path with a large crack in the middle.

All around them were blasted scrublands, and the relentless sun beating down on their shoulders. Tony seemed increasingly fatigued. He had begun to slow down his pacing, and Loki noticed that he was breathing harder than he should be.

"Are you ok?" He asked quietly, “I know it's been a hard trip, let's stop and rest.”

“It's nothing. It's just... this damn weather! There is dirt everywhere, getting everywhere and not a single place to shelter from the sun.”

“Tony…” Loki looked at him apprehensively.

“I'm fine, really.”

"You're sure?"

“Of course I am. Besides, it's not worth stopping now, we're about to get there."

Loki hesitated, but he knew that the faster they walked, the faster they would find shelter in one of the caves.

Maybe they should take it easier from now on. They had traveled non-stop for several days. Loki resolved that after this adventure, they would have to take a break. It's about time they had some time for themselves.

Something brought Loki out of his musings. He felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. The air had become more oppressive, and his breathing had become wallower and stilted.

“There, look,” Natasha said, pointing into the distance.

A wall of sand sweep in from the south, dark orange in color. Giant clouds were approaching at great speed, swirling in brutal streams of wind.

“We must hurry. A storm is coming." Tony said.

When they finally reached the top of the mountain, they found a hidden entrance among the crags. Hurriedly, they entered seeking shelter.

The air was still, as if it had not been disturbed in many years. It smelled sour. It was not a faint aroma, but instead an intolerable one of decomposition, as if in that place, something had died many years ago.

A fresh wave of the noisome smell rose up, assaulting their senses, and a small shiver shot from the crowns of their heads to the base of their spines.

It was dark, but after taking a few steps, they realized they were not alone. Figures suddenly appeared, as if they had been summoned by a mysterious force. In seconds, they found themselves surrounded by a large group of people, all covered with masks of shapes and figures that resembled deformed beasts. They had no weapons in their hands, but their posture was threatening enough to make them take a few steps back.

“We have guests,” said an old man, who looked like the leader of the group. He was the only one who had his face exposed.

He approached slowly. His skin was sagged and cracked, hair dry and gray. His pace was such that he seemed like a ghost. As if he did not move through life as much as life struggled to move through him.

“What brings you to these lands, foreigners?” He said in a deep and deadpan voice.

Loki was the one who recovered faster. “We don't want to disturb you,” he said carefully. “We are simple travelers visiting these distant lands for the first time. “We are on a reconnaissance mission and also to collect information.”

“I'm afraid we can't provide you with what you're looking for. We are a small and ordinary community. We do not want problems, so we don't interact with other tribes. As you see, we have isolated ourselves within these caves. "We don't know, nor care, what's happening in the outside world, so we couldn't contribute anything to your mission."

“Of course, I understand” Loki wore the most pleasant of smiles. “We would not like to bother you any longer, we would leave immediately, however, there is a storm outside so I am afraid we will not be able to resume our trip. “I would hate to take advantage of your good will, but would it be possible for us to stay just for tonight?”

The old man seemed to consider this with a sour expression on his features.

“Okay,” he said finally. “We will give you our hospitality, but as you see, we are poor, we have nothing more to offer you than a place to sleep. As soon as dawn breaks, you will be personally escorted off our grounds.” And more than a show of kindness, it sounded like a real threat.

“This way” The old man accompanied them, leading them through narrow alleys.

“Excuse me… can I ask about those masks?” Natasha said looking scared and helpless. Loki thought that her ability to adapt to any situation in order to gather information was truly admirable.

They are traditional. It is to drive away evil spirits.” Was all he said.

The man led them to a large space that contained some skins scattered on the floor.

“You can spend the night here. But, before I go, let me tell you that this place is like a maze, don't wander. We will not be responsible if something bad happens to you.” The old man said with a shadow in his eyes.

The man left, and they only spoke when they could no longer hear his footsteps.

Tony began to walk from one end of the cave to the other. “I don't like this.”

“They're hiding something,” Natasha said bluntly.

A sly smile settled on Loki's lips. “I agree. Since we're here, we should do something useful with our time and find out what it is."

Tony threw his hands in the air “Are you crazy? Did you not hear what the old man said? We could get lost in some of these caves and they wouldn't lift a finger to help us.”

Loki raised an eyebrow “Why are you so nervous? You are always the most enthusiastic when it comes to go looking for trouble, why is this different?”

“I don't know, call it a feeling. They know this place like the back of their hand. We don't know what we are facing. Natasha, some support?”

“I agree with Loki, we should go and investigate. If these people are a threat, we shouldn't stay here. At any moment we could be ambushed by them”

“Besides, there's nothing to worry about,” Loki said. “We're not going to get lost. We just have to trace the path and make a map, just as we have done with the other places we have visited.”

Tony seemed to debate with himself for a moment, until he finally sighed in defeat.

“Okay, okay! I'll settle for us getting out of here quickly. Although something tells me that it is not going to be an easy task…”

Chapter Text

As they advanced through the narrow caves, they could feel the isolation of the place curling into them with bony, greedy fingers. Nothing moved outside of them. There was no sound or life, it was like a tomb.

The stones were so cold they felt slick. It was a dry place: the air chafed their throats. A chill shook their spines. It was strange, outside the heat reached stifling heights, but here, they could feel the cold sliding through their bones.

Loki tried not to breathe in too deeply. Those enclosed spaces with no room to escape, made Loki think of the Void. Like a coffin in which he could only squirm and gasp for air.

He was grateful that at least his wheelchair could fit in that small space.

Natasha carried a torch in her hands, the only source of light. The darkness of the cave was so intense that Loki was sure that, without it, they would see absolutely nothing.

Suddenly, he had the distinct impression that someone else was behind them, watching their every move. A heavy feeling settled onto his heart, and he couldn't tell where it came from.

Had the villagers discovered them? No. It was something else.

The frigid air swept through corridors and hung steadily. He could feel hidden eyes in every corner, though there was nothing there when Natasha lifted the torch to dispel the shadows.

He had never been afraid of what lurked in the darkness before, but now... There is something inside this cave that they are not supposed to see, something that may be more dangerous than any of the things they had to face before. Loki could feel it, but he couldn't explain it.

Just by looking at them, Loki knew that somehow, Tony and Natasha noticed it too. There was a rigidity in their features that wasn't there before, and Loki noticed them moving more cautiously.

"Be careful," Natasha said. Her voice was low, and her eyes were stone cold. "There's something about this I don't like."

Loki was willing to assume that perhaps Tony was right, and that they must not have gone deeper into the cave. He was about to propose that they return, when at the end of a passage, as they turned left, they came upon an entrance that opened wide, like the jaws of a giant monster.

It was a vault of at least 150 meters. The ceiling was so high that it seemed as if it had hollowed out the entire mountain and inside, you could see unusual formations, as if the rock had grown twisting like a snake.

Unlike the rest of the cave, there was not total darkness there, there were several torches embedded in the wall, causing shadows to swirl, dancing on the ceiling like running water. It was a weak and livid clarity, which distorted the faces, making the features look like they belonged to strangers.

An especially bright source of light came from the center of the vault. Loki's breath stopped short in his throat; He could make out a silhouette in the shadows.

They came face to face with the same old man who had greeted them at the entrance to the cave. He had a disturbing smile on his face and spoke in a deep, rumbling voice.

“You've come. I knew you would. From the first moment we met, I could sense you were stubborn. Just in time to meet him."

At first, Loki did not understand what he meant, but then the old man moved away, and behind him, he could see a thick iron door embedded in the rock.

Loki couldn't see what was on the other side, he only felt it. And couldn't explain to himself the awful sensation in the back of his head, the heaviness of his heart, the tremor that ran through his body.

There was an oppressive sort of silence, the kind that comes before a clap of thunder or perhaps before the edge of a knife shed blood.

Then, they heard loud growl. It was so powerful, it echoed through the stone walls in a reverberation. It was petrifying, numbing.

Whatever was inside was getting impatient and wanted to get out.

Before they could make any move to avoid it, with a quick motion, the old man unlock the rusty bolt. The heavy door was pushed so hard that it was torn completely from the wall.

“The beast has been released!” The old man shouted maniacally, “It must be hungry. It's been a long time since we fed it.” And then, with a wave of his hand, all the lights in the room went out.

The only flame that still remained was Natasha's, but there was a beat of several seconds before their eyes could acclimate to the low light.

They heard the heavy sound of footsteps. The torch flame moved towards where the sound was. All they could see was the vague outline of a shape, a figure that displaced the darkness around it.

“Run.” Loki said.

They ran. They dart themselves following the only path that the cave offered them, straight, as fast as humanly possible. Their lungs burning from the stifling air. They could feel the beast at their heel, claws just inches away from grasping around their ankles.

They turned quickly down the winding spiral like paths. Loki very emphatically tried not to think about the fact that they were going deeper and deeper into the bowels of the mountain, and that he didn't even remember which way they came from. They could be running towards the very center, deeper and deeper, with no possibility of escape.

They ran, blood pumping, breath tearing, nowhere to go and running, feeling only the sound of those deafening footsteps behind.

The beast running closer and closer, it was like a scene of a nightmare.

The ground was unpaved, crumbling rock that sometimes sifted like sand at every step. Loki's wheelchair hit between those fragments, raising small pieces that dug into their skin, leaving deep, bleeding cuts.

Loki's stomach churned as he realized that he himself was delaying them. The up and down motion made Tony stumble and lose speed.

For a moment he thought about telling Tony to let go of him, telling him that their chances of coming out alive, of survival, would tighten much slimmer if he let Loki cling to him. But then, he realized that even if that were the case, that small movement would make Tony lose precious seconds of escape. The motion to release the wheelchair, would mean leaving an opening for the beast to attack.

No. The only way was to run, escape, flee for their lives.

The darkness was getting thicker around them, the air heavier to breathe. It is as if the cave itself had conspired against them to halt them and keep them there forever.

Had their time come? Were they all going to die here? Perhaps this cave was nothing more than an elaborate grave, a huge mortuary castle. It was well hidden, far from sunlight, away from anyone who could help them. Surely not even their souls could leave, they would wander lost forever, wasted away, never being able to find their way out.

In this fathom deep there was no light to guide them to the surface, there was no clarity or color. The world was silent here. This Void says nothing, gives nothing. Not knowing what else to do, Loki just held his breath and waited.

Suddenly, the world spun again. The silence was broken by a dull thump and a slight moan of pain. Natasha had stumbled when something had caught on to her leg. The darkness too deep to see what it was.

Realizing this, Tony stopped, but it was too late. They perceived a silhouette right behind her, and then, a terrible growl. The echo of it shook the ground beneath their feet.

They could all feel it, the terror in the air, the motionless cold that surrounds them, the vivid, almost tangible smell of darkness.

Natasha is back on her legs.

Tony approached to try to help her, but she raised her hand signaling him to stay away.

Their hearts thundered against their chests and the labored breathing of their bodies became short and sharp.

Natasha brought the torch closer, and a beam of light illuminated the creature's features. Finally, they could see it. Before their eyes, the imposing figure of a green demon, a horrifying and hungry creature. A single thought flooded their minds at that moment: This was, without a doubt, a monster.

They stood very still, paralyzed, watching.

The seconds stretched on.

Natasha was in the first line of attack, but the creature still made no move to approach. Its yellow eyes flash dangerously as it watches her, unmoving. It growled quietly; Its face turned into a vicious snarl.

Loki caught a flash of emotion on Natasha's face. There was doubt written all over it, a shadow of fear, and something else, something Loki could vaguely identify as determination.

Carefully, Natasha placed the torch on the floor and to everyone's surprise, she began to move towards the creature.

"Natasha!" Tony said tensely, but she just set her jaw and kept walking.

Cautiously, and infinitely slowly, she approached with her palms upraised, in a gesture of appeasement.

The monster wheeled towards her with a growl and Natasha heard someone suck in a breath behind her, but at that moment, she only thought "Calm, at ease, relax, I'm not going to hurt you."

Nobody breathed. She reached the creature, and without hesitation, she brought her hand to its face. Her fingers brushed against its skin and the beast twitched, stepping back. It doubled over in what seemed to be pain and suddenly, it began to change.

Surprised, everyone watched the transformation. Its skin changed color and its body seemed to shrink. Little by little it features became more human.

Everyone held their breath until it was finished.

There, standing before them, the shivering figure of a naked man stared back at them.

The silence fell between them.

"Well, this isn't awkward at all..." The man said with a rather nervous chuckle. “Wouldn't you happen to have an extra pair of pants?”

Chapter Text

Once dressed, he and the rest of the group sat on the floor of the cave and shared some food.

“Well, I guess you're waiting for an explanation, aren't you? I don't blame you, even for me this is quite confusing." The man said scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, we could use some answers.” Tony said.

“Well, to start with, my name is Bruce, from the Banner clan.”

The man told them that he didn't know how long he had remained in the form of that beast. He didn't have many memories of that time, but he knew that he had completely lost hope of being himself again, become human again.

“How did you end up like this?" Loki asked.

Bruce was quiet for a long minute before licking his lips and opening his mouth. He clenched his jaw to the left for a second, tense, then in a low murmur he said.

“I wasn't always like this… I wasn't always a monster. I didn't think it would end like this..."

Bruce took a few short breaths until he composed himself.

“I think I should start from the beginning. You see, I used to be the healer of my tribe. I always had this great desire to seek knowledge, which is why I dedicated my life to researching the use of plants to create new medicines that would help people. I was happy, but that didn't stop me from wanting more. I wanted to improve my skills, to be able to understand the things around me. That's why I began to investigate nature, its behavior, in the hope of finding answers to its mysteries.

I found it strange that many of the plants I once used for my concoctions were drying out. Many species were dying, and the same was happening to animals.

I realized that we were in a very serious situation.

The world was undergoing a gradual warming process that was causing many changes. If everything continued its course, in a short time, the water reserves on which we subsisted would dry up completely, and our food sources would end. At that moment I knew that if something wasn't done soon, it could mean the extinction of all life.”

Tony looked at him perplexed.

"You too? It's just amazing! I can’t believe someone else has come to the same conclusions as us! Loki, can you believe it?”

Bruce looked at them confused.

“What do you mean? I thought I was the only one…”

Tony shook his head. “You're the first person we've found who has any idea what we're dealing with. We have been investigating and seeking information for a long time. In fact, we began a long journey in the hope of finding some solution, that’s the reason we are here. So, tell me…” Tony said hopefully, “what did you find?”

“Well… I'm sorry to disappoint you, but the reason why I transformed into this horrible creature is precisely because of my research.” His voice was sad and distant.

Natasha, Loki and Tony’s gazes met in surprise.

“I wanted to do something to avoid the disaster, to help in some way. I tried to make the tribespeople understand, but they didn't pay attention to me. Some didn't understand it and others simply preferred to ignore what was happening. Even without their support, I swore to myself that I would do everything I could to find a solution. But… after many tests and experiments, I soon realized that this was beyond my capabilities.

I knew I shouldn't give up, that there must be some way. So, I decided to completely change my approach. I told myself that if I couldn't do anything about the drought, maybe I could devise a way for humans and animals to survive the imminent catastrophe.

With some exceptionally rare plants, in the end, I managed to create a compound, a serum that managed to enhance the body's abilities. The idea was that by taking it, a man could develop better reflexes, greater strength, impressive endurance. And I really thought I had achieved it, I thought I had created something that could make super-men. I thought I had found a solution that would save us all."

“I guess things didn't go as you expected” Natasha said.

“Yeah, you still haven't gotten to the part where you transform into a big green monster” Tony said.

Bruce touched his neck “I created this serum, but the last step of the research, the final experiment, was still missing. For lack of a better choice, I decided to try it on myself. The only thing I remember is losing consciousness and then my vision turning green. There was red too, red everywhere. I regained consciousness after that, only to realize what I had done, the destruction that was around me."

Banner was on his hands and knees, staring at the ground. He shook his head to clear it. He realized several things at the same time: he was naked, bone exhausted, and surrounded by people who were aiming arrows at his head.

He sat back on his haunches and raised his palms. Surrendering. He was wrestled roughly back down to the ground by some man, his face pressed into the dirt. The man was one of the best tribe's hunters and his eyes that had once looked kindly at him now showed nothing but pure hatred.

“We did it! We finally caught the monster!” another man shouted.

"D-did I hurt anyone?" Bruce asked as he was roughly dragged away. His hands were bound behind his back under an iron grip.

"Murderer. Don't you dare talk about them."

“Give me my daughter back, you monster.”

Banner looked around, surveying his own damage.

He was astonished. It was a battlefield. Houses destroyed in piles of rubble and bodies lay on the ground. Had he done this?

His body was dragged without resistance to the entrance of a cave.

The entrance led to a deep underground. The cold air plunged into his face, sending shivers down his spine. Bruce couldn't see how deep it was, but he suspected it was an abyss as unfathomable as the despair he felt at that moment.

The same people who had brought him there were now lifting his body again. With a single movement, he was thrown inside.

He was falling...

His heart stopped; He thought he would die before falling even five meters.

He couldn't see, he was blind, he was falling in impenetrable darkness.

He was falling…

He hit against the wall. His hand flew towards it immediately, trying to find a crevice to hold on, but his hands slipped on the rock.

His fall abruptly cut short. His body met the ground, hard. His shoulder hit a rough rock and his head bounced off the ground with a dull thud.

The breath was knocked out of his lungs, and he gasped for air that wouldn’t come. His head exploded in pain.

Stars danced in his sight, the only thing he could see.

And yet… He was alive.

He didn't understand, He should have died from that fall. He didn't understand his new body now, he didn't know what he had become.

Suddenly, a movement above his head. There was a distant glow within the darkness, it was the entrance through which he had fallen. A man was peering over the edge, and from the movement, small pieces of rock sprayed onto him.

“This is all your fault.” A cold voice spoke from above. He had gained courage from the physical distance that now separated them. “You wanted to seek power. We warned you that such witchcraft would be our downfall, but you wanted to manipulate nature, play at being a God. What's your excuse? Hm?"

"I-I have none." His voice broke. Tears of stress, terror and guilt ran down his cheeks.

“You are cursed. You have cursed us all” The voice said with hatred.

"Please, please help me.  Please help me stop this. I can't do this again. All those innocent lives..."

"Don't worry. You will never leave… We will personally take care of that…”

The figure disappeared and then the entrance was sealed, leaving him in a blackened silence, heavy with the smell of blood and human sweat.

There was no more shouting. No angry, echoing voice over the edge, above his head (would there ever be again?).

Everything was silent, everything was dark around him. he could see absolutely nothing. He might as well have been struck blind.

His body was sweating now, breathing in and out rapidly. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, one pitiable heart ushering it through his limbs frenetically. He felt the other being, that now shared a body with him, moving in the back of his mind. Bruce struggled to hold back another transformation, so soon after the last.

(No, no please. I don't want to lose my humanity, not again.)

He couldn't move his limbs. He couldn't move his head. And the creature was screaming for release. Clawing at his mind in the face of Bruce's denial.

He heard nothing. Saw nothing. All was silence, darkness, loneliness. He was alone.

But… that wasn’t entirely true. The creature was with him. The beast he himself had created and that was now part of his being.

He was locked in this cave to pay for his sins. This was his own hell, and he had his own demon as a companion for all eternity. His destiny was to be lost forever in this darkness.

This was hell, and the realization made his throat swell, and his eyes burn. He felt completely broken. And he knew he deserved it, of course he did! He would stay here forever. He was scum, a monster, who never deserved to see the light of day again.

He would turn this into his sentence, his penance.

“So, it was your own tribe who imprisoned you in this mountain,” Natasha said. Her voice was restrained, as if she was having a hard time keeping her emotions in check.

“What!? You mean that that lunatic old man who tried to kill us, and those people with masks used to be… your allies? Your family?” Tony said.

Loki just stared at him in silence, a deep shadow had fallen over his face. That kind of loneliness… It awakened feelings in him that he thought he had buried forever.

Bruce didn't know how much time had passed.

Time meant nothing here, he means nothing. Just something insignificant in the face of oblivion.

The lack of light was eating at him, suffocating him. It enshrouded his entire vision. Not knowing what else to do, he often found himself bringing his fingers closer to his line of vision so he could detect any detail of his skin, and thus be able to see something other than darkness, this gave him some degree of relief.

How long had it been since the tribespeople had given him some food? He honestly couldn't remember. How long had it been since he heard the voice of another living being?

The silence had begun to become… the opposite of what silence was. It started as a ringing into his ear, but as time goes by, it grew louder and began to pound in his ears, like a voice speaking to him. He ignored it. It’s bearable, he told himself (tried to convince himself).

Sleep was a tempting thing, and Bruce found himself closing his eyes more than once. But that only made the darkness darker and the quiet quieter.

It came as softly as a whisper, but it cut through the blaring silence easily. "Bruce," it said.

He ignored it. It was probably just his imagination. Closing his eyes and clamping his hands tightly again his ears, he tried to drown out the noise. Relieved, he was glad he wouldn't hear it again.

He didn't know how much time had passed before the voice found him again. "Bruce," it pleaded, and now Bruce thought it sounded like a woman.

"Why did you kill me?" She said by his ear and Bruce jolts up with a scream. Sorrow and betrayal were plain in her voice.

He panted heavily; his body sleek with cold sweat.

A part of him wondered if he was going completely mad or if it was the ghost of someone from the tribe who had come to haunt him.

I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry, he wanted to tell her.

She sounded so hurt, so heartbroken. He didn't remember killing her, he didn't even know who she was, but a deep regret had settled in his heart. It felt like a hand was clutching his chest tight as the turmoil of his thoughts and emotions wreck him.

(Murderer, monster. You don't even deserve to exist)

It left Bruce on edge, on the edge of some cliff to be precise. One wrong step and he feared he would inevitably descend into madness.

Bruce heard another voice. In the back of his mind, the beast began to speak.

“Let me out. I can take this pain away.” It spoke.

“No. No! I won’t leave you; I won’t allow it.” His voice rose, nearly overpowering the screams in his mind, the internal turmoil of emotions and pain.

“Isn’t that what you deserve? Don’t you deserve to lose your identity for everything you’ve done?” The beast echoed in his mind.

No no no no no. He wouldn’t let it. He had to keep resisting. It was the only he had left.

(How did it come to this?)

(Why did this happen?)

(Where did I go so wrong?)

(Haven’t you had enough yet?!)

Among all his faults and regrets, the greatest was his inability to comprehend the consequences of his actions.

Bruce didn't look at them. He stared into the distance as though it held the world's greatest secrets. "Have you ever done something you've regretted, but knew that no matter what you did, nothing will change?" The question was abrupt, and Loki fell silent, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

Oh, he knew, of course he knew.

There were so many regrets in his life: betraying Thor; trying to commit genocide against an entire species; abandoning his family…

He knew what it was like to feel different, to feel less for simply embracing who he really was, his nature. To feel like there was something irremediably wrong inside him.

When Loki found out he was Jotun. Years of indifference, years of inadequacy, of not fitting in, finally made sense. His wickedness was innate. It was in his blood. It wasn't a choice at all, but something Loki couldn't run from or deny. He was a monster incapable of change.

Guided by that belief, he did horrible things and alienated himself even further from the humanity he might otherwise have preserved.

What was the point of going on? What was the point of living if he could never be more than the disappointing creature everyone seemed to see in him?

Loki knew what it was like to want something so much, to hold it in your arms, and know without a doubt, that he would never deserve it, because that was the fitting punishment for a monster like him.

He had given up completely.

But then…. he had come to Midgard, found Tony, and thought that even if life wasn’t simple, easy, or fair. Even if he could never be human. He wanted a chance to matter. He wanted to live.

Bruce had been locked away in this cave to be forgotten. He had no reason to live. Had anyone told him his life was one worth living? Had anyone given him the possibility to choose, to change? Had anyone even cared?

Chapter Text

“Bruce!” the voice kept talking to him, calling him.

“How did you let this happen?” she said, moaning in pain.

He had already stopped questioning whether this was madness or reality. It was now his destiny, and he had to bear it.

Day after day, the voice tormented him, and Bruce lost himself a little more.

The walls closed in on him.

Narrowed his thoughts.

Squeezed his brain.

Each day, this cage ate him alive.

"Why did you kill me?" the voice asked again. "Did I not care for you? Did I not love you?"

Bruce looked up. His retort escaped his tongue, and he couldn't breathe. He could see a figure floating above him, white and glowing.

He tried to see her face, but he couldn't. It was as if there was a barrier in front of her. All he saw was a haze covering his vision.

A cool mist penetrated his skin and left him shaking and scared.

“Who are you?” Bruce asked but no one responded except the loud silence.

“Look at her. Look at her face,” the beast said, annoying as ever.

“I can’t” Bruce said.

“Yes, you can, you just don’t want to look” The monster said maliciously.

(Or was it himself who spoke in his mind? He didn't know, he didn't know.)

“Why did you kill me? Why did you kill the people of the tribe? They were your friends.”

Bruce knelt before her. He didn't dare touch her. She looked like an angel. An angel of doom.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He choked on a sob, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would end… No,” he shook his head violently. “No. That’s… that’s an excuse. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did. If I could just go back, if I could undo all the damage…” The figure was impassive, and Bruce repeated it once more, hoping to get through her. It was his only chance. “Please, I really didn’t mean to.” He let out a shuddering cry. “I’m sorry.”

“There were children there. It’s not fair that you have the opportunity to live, and they never get to grow up, never get the chance to achieve their dreams. They will never know what they could have done with their lives.”

Bruce whimpered. In his heart, he did not deny those words.

“They will never know happiness. They will never be able to give love, start a family, grow old. It's over for them, you've taken away everything.”

Silent tears fell down Bruce's face.

“You are a monster. Every day of your life you will see us in your mind, which will be your penance. This way, you will be as dead as we are,” she told him before shimmering from sight. Bruce sobbed, moving to curl up in some corner of the cave.

That day, something broke, shattered, and was never whole again.

All he felt was a great sorrow and pain inside him. Everyone had died. Everything was gone. There were a thousand words on his lips that will never be spoken, that would be lost forever, and it was all his fault. He deserved it all. He was wrong, evil, despicable.

(There is a monster in a cave. He shakes, cracks, and breaks. No; that wasn't quite right. He had always been broken.)

(He is all alone)

He was bleeding from within. An open wound that was sluggishly spilling out. It was an endless void that had torn open his chest and filled it with tar. Sorrow and despair had consumed everything he was, dragging him down into an abyss of his own creation. That was his true prison, not the walls around him.

Something in his empty, black, desiccated chest leaped, and Bruce knew then. He realized what he should have known a long time ago: Even if he could get out of this place, he could never deny the truth. Even if he found a way out, he could never really escape from himself.

“It’s funny what guilt does,” Bruce said. “It’s like it steals your soul, your identity. A part of you is missing, but you can’t do anything to get it back. Day after day, you watch yourself slip away, one piece at a time. You try to assess in your mind the parts of yourself that are gone, but it’s impossible. And then the day comes… you realize that the person you once were, is gone forever.”

His voice was distant, as if he had forgotten that anyone else was with him in the cave.

“But I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You’re not like me. I don’t think you can ever understand me.”

He wasn't going to delude himself any longer. He knew from the tips of his fingers to the marrow of his bones that he was a monster sent to destroy everything he touched. No, he was like black ink that stained all things. He was the soot that marked every surface. You couldn't touch Bruce Banner and come back clean. No, he knew that. The matter of his cruelty and his monstrosity was a simple fact, of course, something to be observed and marked as a central truth of the universe.

“Sometimes I wonder… what do you do with all this remorse? What do you do when you can’t fix the damage you’ve done? When you can’t undo your actions, when you can’t bring them back to life.”

Loki looked at him smiling, but there was something painful and strained in the smile. The color of his eyes had cloudy with the dark look of pain. He could say nothing in response.

They stared at each other. Fixedly, with bright, hard eyes.

“We are mirror images,” Loki thought. “This could have been my fate if things had been different. A relic of the past. A trophy of war. Locked away in a vault to gather dust and be forgotten.”

The difference was that Loki had found someone who had given him a second chance. Someone who had allowed him to be more than he had ever expected of himself. The difference was that he had been given the chance to change.

The next time he opened his eyes, Bruce realized he could no longer move. His fingers were shaking, and his legs were so weak that he could barely stand. Hunger and thirst had robbed him of all his strength.

He woke up choking on a scream. Choking so hard his chest burned and his eyes watered. His hands shook and were soaked with sweat. He had never felt so weak, but he didn't scream. He didn't cry.

Somewhere in this infinite space of time, there was a vision in his mind. It was a woman's abandoned and broken body. Blood stained everything around her. The shape was familiar to him and a knot formed in his heart.

“You have to remember” the beast told him.

Bruce felt disoriented, his chest tight, his head and ears ringing. It was all too much, and he didn't understand, but he did, all he had ever done was run away from reality.

(What have you been running away from this entire time?)

Sickly sweet honey dripped down his throat. It tastes like blood. He felt nauseous. He wanted to go somewhere, to go away, leave this place behind and never come back.

His heart pounded in his chest. No. No, please. He didn't want to see who that corpse belonged to.

He understood. He didn't. He did, he did (he did).

In his mind, the fog cleared. A twisted figure stared back at him through the mist, and he thought that this was more real than reality itself.

A body showed its face and Betty, his wife, looked at him with vacant eyes.

No.

(¡No!)

Her body was still. Her gentle caresses, her bell-like laughter, her steady arms, always there to greet him and welcome him home even if the skies should fall, are swept away by glassy eyes that will never look into his ever again.

He knew it then. There was only one explanation left. The truth was finally revealed to him.

There was an empty void in his chest. It grew and grew until it swallowed him whole. It wasn't his hands tearing through flesh, it was the beasts, yet he looked down at his hands now and found them covered in blood.

(No. No, no, no, this can't... this can't be happening. It can't be real.)

(Have I gone mad? Have I gone mad? Have I gone mad?)

All he wanted was to live a quiet life, be with her, see her smile, and now, now...

(Everything you touch dies.)

He loved her, but a monster cannot truly love.

(What have I done? What have I done! What am I supposed to do now?)

He felt his mind breaking apart, some inexplicable pain lanced through his heart.

His breathing felt so heavy. He was shaking, his teeth chattering and feverish shivers running through his body as he struggled to get air into his lungs, to breathe, why did it hurt so much?

There was an undeniable evil within him, and it had nothing to do with the monster that lived inside him. It was complemented by the beast's hatred, by the hatred of those he had killed.

“I have to take control of your body,” the monster told him.

(There is nothing left, and still, you demand everything from me. Why can't you see that? Why can’t you understand? There is nothing left for me, for anyone in this wretched, cursed world.)

(You want to take over my body? My mind? So what? Is there anyone in this world who even wants me here? Do you truly believe your hatred for me is greater than mine?)

(I should have known it would all end like this. Everyone I loved everything that was worth anything… where is it now?)

(Ah, it doesn’t matter. It's inevitable. That's all it is. Inevitable. It can’t be helped. Of course.)

His head ached with all the pain of a life he once lost, that he wanted back. It hurt so much, why did it hurt so much?

The voices rang out again near his ear. Bruce knew what they were now, they were all the people he had killed. The sounds coursed through his blood; they clutched his dying heart with bloodied hands. They laughed, they cried. All the noise they made was unintelligible, but Bruce understood them all so clearly.

(There is a monster who will never be full, who will continue to destroy everything it touches, who will cry as the sun sets over the ruins of so many families it tore apart.)

“Are you ready to end the pain?” said the beast. He was even gentle.

Bruce's breathing quickened sporadically. With every wheezing gasp that escaped him, the world around him faded more and more. He brought a shaking hand to his face and tried to laugh as his eyes glimmered with tears. He choked on a sob and claps his hand over his mouth as a pathetic keening wrenches out of him.

Bruce couldn't do this. Whatever this was, he couldn't do it, he couldn't even breathe. His body collapsed to the ground, and he lay sprawled out on the stone, cold and shaking and fighting back tears he didn't deserve.

His hands shook. Everything spun wildly out of his control, slipping from his pathetic grasp. He begged for control, but his mind, his heart, his soul, whatever still remains, failed him. He wanted everything to stop. But it couldn't.

“I can make it stop,” the beast told him.

Once, twice, three times, the world spun, spun, spun, and then…

And then…

He was falling, plummeting into a darkness that he knew would swallow him whole. His flesh was torn apart. His tears fed the monster that reveled in his suffering. Every cry for help was crushed from his lungs.

He was so tired of being alone. So tired of being abandoned. Always, forever, left behind.

“Are you ready?” the beast repeated.

So, this is it then, he realized, this is how the world ends.

(Take me, kill me, erase me. There is nothing more for me here.)

His vision turned green, and the world faded into oblivion.

No one could even fathom what to say.

“Have you been living like this all this time?” Natasha asked. Her voice came to him like a whisper. Calm and soft.

Bruce turned to her; his piercing brown eyes so very tired.

“Yes… I thought I had lost my humanity, and I drowned in that feeling. My sadness and weakness gave free rein to the beast, which caused my transformation again. Since then, my consciousness was trapped. Frankly, I thought I had lost myself forever.”

“But… how could you come back?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t think I could have done it without you” he said, looking at them all, but stopping his gaze especially on Natasha. “You came to me and treated me like… like I was really human. I thought I was forever doomed to my monstrosity, but somehow, out of the fog of my thoughts, I felt your touch, your kindness. I think just being noticed by another human again, being able to feel someone else within my loneliness, made all the difference.” A slight smile appeared on his lips.

It may have just been a trick of light, but Loki thought there was a small blush on Natasha's cheeks.

“And what do you plan to do now?” Tony said.

Bruce remained silent.

“Your idea wasn’t bad. Maybe we could fix the formula you created and continue your research. If we improve the serum, we could make it stable enough to cut the adverse effects.”

Bruce sighed quietly and then looked over at Tony. “I don't think that's the right thing to do. I tried it already and look what happened. Maybe I really was cursed, as the people of the tribe say. Punished by the gods for interfering with the affairs of nature. I would like to find a solution to the drought, I really would, but not like this, this is not the way.”

A shadow appeared in his eyes.

“Thank you for helping me, but the world cannot suffer the consequences of this power, this force of destruction. I wouldn't want to hurt anyone else. I must go back” He said looking into the darkness of the cave “I will lock myself away and this time it will be of my own free will.”

"No, you won't." Loki looked at him from beneath his long, dark lashes.

“What? Why wouldn’t I?” Bruce’s tone of voice was half defiant, half incredulous.

"Because you don't want to." Bruce backed up a little. He didn't know what, but there was something about Loki, a certain intensity in his eyes, a certain aura of power that seemed beyond mortal men.

And strangely, as soon as it appeared, it faded away, like the heat of a dying fire. Loki looked away as if mildly embarrassed. “I won’t stop you. But you don’t want to. You may not say the truth to yourself, but it’s there all the same.”

Bruce’s hands covered his face, before sagging back to his sides. He clasped his hands together and fiddled with his fingers for a bit. “Yeah, well, I guess you’re right.” He glanced at Loki again. “But that doesn’t erase the truth of my words. What if the beast was released again?”

“We all have a dark side, our own monsters. It is up to you to control it and make sure it does not control you.” Loki said.

I…” Bruce’s jaw sagged slightly, before annoyance twinged at him. “But I can’t control it.”

“I think you can,” Tony said. His voice reached Bruce, muffled slightly by the thick walls of the cave. “You already did it. You were able to return to your human form, weren’t you? Natasha seems to have a calming effect on the beast. If it were to wake up again, I think we could control it."

Bruce shifted his gaze towards her.

“I can do it,” she said decisively.

“You don’t understand. I know who I am. At least I think I do. But I can’t be certain. There’s something… I can’t explain it. I don’t want to be like this anymore. I just want…” Bruce shook his head, hands pressed over the middle of his body.

“I understand enough to know what it is to feel like a monster,” Loki said, and the light of the torch was behind him, leaving his whole face in a shadow that made his features hard and deep.

Loki concentrated. He had never tried to change consciously before, but he remembered how it had felt, like his skin was peeling back. He closed his eyes. He knew he had no magic left, but he didn't need it for this, it was in his nature, after all. He felt the wash of cold over his body, and then a sensation as if suddenly everything around him was suddenly too warm. His skin changed to a bluish color and patterns of marks appeared on his body.

It was strange to be like this, to have this appearance. He felt somewhat lost, nervous. He looked at Tony with fear, he had never seen him like this, and for a moment he feared he would find condemnation and revulsion in his eyes. But all his fears were swept away in the next moment. Tony simply smiled at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. His touch was gentle and reassuring and a warmth spread from the contact point through his body as if it was carried directly from his blood. The tightness in his chest dissipated.

Bruce looked at Loki's transformation, and almost recoiled in surprise. He paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts together before he gnaws at his lip for a second.

The silence seemed to grow darker and thicker as it progressed. Bruce opened his mouth a few times to speak, but no words came out of his mouth. He suddenly felt very tired.

"I just want to pay back all the damage I caused," Bruce finally admitted. Loki nodded slightly, almost thoughtfully, and before looking back at him, he summoned back his skin. The stare was piercing, and Bruce had the strange feeling that this man could actually see through him.

“It is useless to think about your old life or what could have been different. What you can do is do something good with your current life. If you really want to seek redemption for what you have done, you should not hide. What good is repentance if it does not erase anything of what has happened? The best penitence is simply to change.”

At that, Bruce had nothing to say, not at the intense fluttering in his chest that felt a lot like hope.

Was it true? Did he really have a choice? Could he choose whether or not to be a monster?

“But… what am I supposed to do now? How can I…” Bruce said desperately.

“You told us you are a healer, right?” Tony said. “We have been traveling around the different tribes looking for information about the drought. Maybe you could come with us? Many of the tribes we have visited have serious health problems. We can help them with technology, but we are not healers. It would be really amazing if you could help them with your knowledge.”

Redemption… being of use. Maybe that would make him feel a little bit less like the beast he could become at any moment.

And at this, Bruce felt another sensation, a kind of ache in his chest and desperate want, as though all this time he had been avoiding thinking about this, but in reality, he had had this longing buried deep within him. He wouldn't have dared to think about it consciously; he couldn't let himself imagine that something as desirable as a second chance could be so achievable. He didn't dare to think that there was hope, that there was anything better in this world for him than what he had. He didn't deserve better and now this man was offering him a choice he couldn't have even dreamed of.

“Okay,” Bruce rasped. He didn’t know what else to say, but oddly enough his mind wasn’t as messy as it had been before. There was a painful clarity now. No circular reasoning or roundabout excuses. He was going to do this, he told himself, he was really going to do it. Now, there was only a deafening quiet in his head, the voices finally silent. Fear was a sure thing, Bruce knew, but Loki was right. “I will dedicate my life to helping them.”

Tony smiled at him, stood up from the ground and extended his hand. “let’s go” he said.

Bruce took a breath. Then another. Then another. The stale air didn't feel as harsh. The world didn't seem as confusing anymore. In his head, those words had an immense power over him, capable of changing his life completely in just an instant, but the difference was that now he wasn't scared of them anymore.

Bruce took his hand.

They searched the cave trying to retrace their steps. After a while, they managed to find the trail of their footsteps, and with that, they finally headed towards the exit.

After much walking, they could now see some glimpses of sunlight reflecting off some of the corridors ahead. They quickened their pace, they were close.

However, just as they turned a corner, they came face to face with the group of villagers. They had armed themselves with pickaxes and knives and were pointing at them threateningly.  

They were about to pounce on them, when they spotted Bruce right behind. They froze in mid-motion, their faces tinted with fear. The grip on their weapons wavered. No one moved. The silence became a thick entity.

Behind the crowd, the elderly leader of the group appeared.

"What are you doing? Why is no one attacking?" He shouted, stepping back forward. He looked tense, but his expression read determination.

His vision was tinged with a kind of terrible understanding as he caught sight of Bruce.

“What are you doing here? What do you want? Haven't you had enough?”

Bruce straightened up and then took a deep breath, composing himself.

“I don’t want any trouble; I just want to be able to get out of here in peace.”

“How dare you? I don’t know what strange sorcery made you able to become human again, but if you had any dignity, you would return to the cave from which you came.”

“I don't plan on going back there.”

“What? Are you crazy? You can’t… No! I won’t let you leave; I won’t let my daughter’s death be in vain… I will never let your evil be released into this world.”

Regret flashed across Bruce's face, but his gaze didn't waver.

“I can never apologize enough for what I did. I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. Still, despite everything, I believe that even the most insignificant of creatures can have a chance to seek redemption. I firmly believe that, despite all my faults, I can do good and try in some way to make amends for all the harm I caused. I promise you that no matter what it takes, I will spend the rest of my life trying.”

The old man seemed to lower his weapon for a moment, but then, with a shout, he lunged at Bruce.

In a second, Tony disarmed him and knocked him to the ground. Using the same knife from the old man, he put the blade against his neck, daring him to make a move.

The old man screamed in rage at seeing himself defeated.

“Please don’t do anything to him,” Bruce said. “Despite everything that’s happened, he was part of my family. They may not consider me part of their tribe anymore, but I still hold dear those times we spent together, when I could still call myself human. No matter how much they hate me, I can never forget the past. I have felt those memories every day of my life, they gave me strength to face my own darkness.”

“How can you say that? They locked you in a cave to punish you, to make you suffer, so that you would end up completely losing your sanity. How can you defend him?” Natasha said, looking at the old man.

Bruce looked down at the ground, his face sad.

“Everything he and the people of the tribe did was necessary. They were just protecting themselves. I was dangerous, a threat, I left them no choice. There's nothing that I blame them for.”

The old man let out a sardonic laugh. “What do you mean? Of course you don’t blame me for anything. What could someone like you blame me for? I didn’t do anything wrong; I don’t regret anything. I’m not the monster. You are.”

Loki looked at him. His face twisted in disgust.

"No, you are the man who is cruel, congratulating yourself on your decency, while the monster eats his fill. You are not a monster, but you are a disgusting being just the same. At least we monsters admit our evil, you on the other hand, pretend to be good, but look the other way when kindness is really needed"

The old man looked away and said nothing.

“Let’s go. I don’t think we can accomplish anything else here” Loki said.

Tony released the old man. The rest of the tribe seemed to have lost their courage and separated to let them advance.

With the path clear, they moved towards the exit.

“Bruce!” A woman shouted from the crowd. Stepping forward, she threw a small pouch that landed right at his feet.

Bruce turned around and looked at her with his face full of surprise.

“What are you doing, Laura?” the old man shouted.

She just ignored him.

“If you're going to help people, if you really want to make a difference, you’re going to need this.”

Bruce bent down and picked up the worn pouch. Opening it, he realized it was his old stash of medicinal plants.

He couldn't believe it. Here were all the plant and herb specimens he had managed to collect in the course of his research. He had thought they were lost forever, but here they were before his eyes. They were priceless, some even the last ones left on earth. What he didn’t understand, was why they were giving it to him? Why would someone who hated him give him something so valuable? It didn't make any sense.

Echoing his thoughts, the old man spoke “No, Laura! Why did you do that?” He was furious.

She simply shrugged. “They were his from the start. We have no knowledge of how to use them. Even after all this time, all they’ve done is gather dust in a corner of the cave. To us, they’re completely useless, but in Bruce’s hands, they can become someone’s salvation, the hope someone needs to start a new life.”

“Mrs. Laura… I… thank you. I am so sorry about the death of…”

She cut him off.

“Bruce, I know what it’s like to lose a daughter, but I believe in second chances. Make yours count, that’s enough for me.”

And then Bruce had to fight against the lump that had settled in his throat, he couldn't swallow, as if suddenly, his throat had simply stopped working.

The words he had just heard seemed to caress his very soul. They settled over him like a warm blanket of hope. They were a promise of tomorrow. They were everything he had searched for so long and never thought he would have the strength to dream about. Those words sounded like forgiveness.

Bruce's eyes burned with determination as they bored into hers. He nodded slowly,

With one last look of gratitude, Bruce joined Tony, Natasha, and Loki. Together, they headed toward the exit.

The exit of the cave was nearby.

A silent roar rushed through Bruce's chest, as if his heart were the battlefield of a relentless struggle. He didn't back down, and his nerve didn't fail, but his emotions started whirling in so many directions that he had to lean sideways for support and fight his way through a bout of temporary vertigo.

He tried to take a few tentative steps but stumbled and had just enough time to reach out with his arm toward the cave wall to stop his fall.

His heart was pounding. He could smell the clean air and hear the crisp sound of the wind. He could see the sunlight clearly now. That judging glare, that light that could condemn him if it shone on him.

He took a few deep breaths and then began walking towards the exit.

When Bruce stepped through the threshold, the sunlight was so bright it stung. He closed his eyes.

How long had he been locked up? He didn't know. It could easily have been many lifetimes.

The wind, the breeze caressed his face. The sky was an engulfing blue, and all around him white clouds were rearing up in tall smoking pillars, making the sky seem awfully vast.

Everything seemed suddenly overwhelming; the crunch of sand and stones beneath his feet, the swirl of dust around his ankles, the emotion gnawing at his soul. A mountain rose up in the distance, black-stained from the towering shadow of the clouds. This was the world. He could see it; it was no longer darkness. He could feel freedom.

Bruce felt warmth on his face. He didn't know if it was sunlight, or if it were tears. Either way, his sight was getting blurry.

“I'm going to make it count… I'm going to deserve this second chance…” He thought.

Together, they walked towards freedom.