InsaneJournal

It was roughly two hours since the news of an Asgardian arrival reached Loki, to which someone might question why it took two hours for someone with a knack for magicking himself nearly anywhere on Earth. The answer was simple: timing. Jumping straight to the military base in a hurry would just seem desperate, and he wasn’t that. No, not desperate.

The truth was that life had gone on without the All-Father’s extensive reach -- and the All-Mother’s, really. Beyond that, though, there was the knowledge that somewhere, in some realm, Odin was still going about his usual way. That was still happening somewhere, although it made little difference in Tumbleweed. It was a comfortable distance, the sort that you wouldn’t realize you’d settled into until it was gone. Maybe that was where the itch was stemming from. It was a small, relentless itch, and he knew that it wouldn’t go away until he satisfied his curiosity.

Besides, if Odin was truly here, then, at the very least, Loki felt he should turn up for a short ‘Hello’ and a slightly more deliberate ‘Stay out of my business.’ Nothing quite said youngest child like a good huff in the old man’s face. Surely if Odin was half alert, then this would come as no surprise. Surely if Odin was his Odin, then this would be entirely expected.

Loki sighed, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his deep green coat and carrying himself at a leisurely stroll down the hallway leading to the quarantine rooms. Third on the left, he had been told. One, two, and…

Three.

He stopped beside the singular window that looked into the room, then turned to peer in.

---

The chance to fight had presented itself and been summarily ushered out of the room when Odin had first arrived on Earth. The All-Father had raised an eyebrow at the military intervention, then allowed himself to be tested and shown to his quarters for the next forty-eight hours. He had a particular interest in remaining conscious and in control. Given time, he would act. For now, it was preferable to observe.

Odin waited a full hour before he requested a small feast and the finest ale his hosts could find. No one here had Asgardian expectations of the king. Propriety, while useful, was unnecessary at the moment. He could relax and enjoy himself as he gathered information.

He’d gotten through a turkey leg and a tankard of drink when he heard footsteps in the hall. Odin frowned. The seemed … familiar. He rose, the meal set aside, and cast a quick illusion. The largesse disappeared, the room made innocuous and innocent.

The visitor came as a surprise. From what he’d been told, Odin had expected someone he might know. Instead, he found himself looking at an unfamiliar face, and clothing that seemed to have been a joint venture between Asgardian design and Thor’s taste in Earth fashion. He conjured a polite smile. “Can I help you?”

---

For a short moment, Loki regarded the elder Asgardian with a narrowed gaze. Faults in memory were not unheard of -- frankly, Loki himself suffered from a slew of those, if not hazy recollections of previous encounters -- nor was being gifted family from another world. If either rang true here, then that look that lacked all recognition wasn’t an act. Loki turned a corner of his mouth upward at the thought. There was no use in yelling or threatening anything, was there? Not given this turn of events.

Instead, Loki reached for the chair just beside the viewing window. He tugged it closer, then swiveled neatly down onto it, long legs propping up against the spot of wall to the left of the glass. He settled his chin on an upstretched hand.

“I was told someone I may know arrived. I’m undecided at the moment,” Loki started. He tapped a finger against his temple. “Odin, is it? All-Father of Asgard?”

---

“Yes, that is my name,” Odin granted, the pleasant smile settled comfortably on his bearded features. “I take it you expected something different.” He remained standing, his hands clasped behind his back in what the Earth military would call parade rest.

Beneath the placid surface, Odin’s mind rapidly turned over the problem before him. The coat triggered a sense of familiarity, the attitude moreso. Curiosity transformed into consternation, intermingled with a growing sense of misgiving. Luckily, he had a rather good poker face.

“What can I do for you, young man?”

---

“No, Father, I generally plan for worst-case scenarios and expect anything is possible,” Loki replied; the easy, conversational tone lacing his words betrayed the gravity of such a statement. He mustered himself up to full height now that the room's occupant was on the other side of the glass. It may be petty, but the few extra inches of height over the All-Father felt satisfying.

“You know, there would have been a time when you being here -- you or whichever All-Father drew the shortest straw -- might have felt like gift,” Loki continued. He leaned a shoulder against the window. The phone in his pocket was lifted out and idly spun between his fingers after a quick check revealed no notifications. “I had some growing pains with my father, you see. I do think he tries on occasion, but he's ever-bound by Asgard and her cyclical story of warring. Does that sound familiar?”

---

Growing pains? Oh shit. The full magnitude of the situation came into crystal clear focus for Odin, and the All-Father wondered if this was what a mortal’s heart attack felt like. He had no need for a formal introduction. All of the necessary elements had come together the moment the man on the other side of the window had said, “Father,” though it had taken a few seconds more for Odin’s mind to process and accept the pending disaster.

“Loki,” he said, “my dear son.” Internally, he winced as soon as the words escaped his mouth. That had been overkill. Never mind that they were the words he himself had so wanted to hear the All-Father declare to the Nine Realms. Oh well. What was it the humans said? In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Truly, this is a gift. I thought I had lost you.”

---

Loki’s mouth drew itself wide into a grin at the choice title. He lifted a finger, shaking his head. “But not dearest.” A small chuckle escaped, though it wasn’t as if he was holding it back. He sent his gaze down the corridor lined with similarly stationed visitor areas. No one else was around to hear this. More’s the pity, really.

Something gave Loki pause, however. It was that same sort of tug at your peripheral vision that you might get during twilight: that there was something just out of view, but you knew you had caught the slightest hint of it. He turned back to the All-Father, but then focused on the space behind him. It was easier to spot now that Loki had his attention trained on it: magic. An empty space that felt inexplicably full. Someone was hiding something. He pocketed the discovery and turned around to start pacing beside the window. It was a simple rhythm of two steps and then a spin.

“Ah, apologies, Father. My memory seems to be failing me. Death will do such a thing. Remind me of my heroic deed that surely saved Asgard from destruction? Were tears spilled until eyes ran dry?”

---

Odin’s smile faltered. Loki’s words stung. No, not dearest. Never that. The strife between the princes of Asgard held true in other dimensions, then. A shame, but not something he could remedy by any means, even if he cared to do so. He had no interest in playing peacemaker between brothers. He could, he supposed, stoke Loki’s ego, but he was under no delusion that it would do any good.

The All-Father released a heavy sigh. “Loki, Loki, Loki. Will you never be satisfied, my boy?” He shook his head and strode to a chair, where he settled his aging bulk. Odin folded his hands before him. It was time to see how this God of Mischief responded to his other self’s tale of noble sacrifice.

“You fell to the Dark Elves, in selfless defense of your brother and the Nine Realms. Were it not for you, the Aether would have surely destroyed us all.”

---

Loki’s brows drew upward with amusement. That small waver of a smile could easily have been a genuine All-Father reaction, but so rarely did Odin give him that show of remorse. And much more rarely did a dead Loki remain so.

“Perhaps satisfaction would be an easier feat if those who came before me weren’t such over-achievers,” Loki volleyed back, cresting his shoulders into a nonchalant shrug. He stopped pacing for a second, then faced the window head-on. His green eyes nearly glinted as he studied the wizened visage of the elder god.

“No… no, I think you may have that story wrong.” Another shrug, this time loosely punctuating the brief silence before Loki started again. “Now, you may say: Loki, you weren’t there. No, I was not. But I have met other Lokis, and I find we’re all shorn of the same fabric. Do you know what I have discovered that we all share, Father?”

---

In his mind, Odin had already begun the countdown. Loki was persistent. His ability to read a situation and turn it to his favor served him far better than most gave him credit for. The game would be entertaining, while it lasted.

“Perhaps you should tell me.” He steepled his fingers and raised both eyebrows. Most fathers would be overwhelmed at the site of their dead son returned from the grave, but Odin had raised Loki from infancy, and barely batted an eye at the majority of his adopted son’s antics. Returning to life was hardly the most dramatic stunt Loki had pulled. Odin could indulge him in this.

“What ties you together with your fellows?”

---

“Not even a guess?” Loki tutted, but he splayed his arms outward and bowed. “Survival. One might even wonder if your Loki did not perish, but instead found a perfect hiding spot until he was certain no one was looking for him any longer. Perhaps even hiding right before your very eyes…!” The final word was paired with a slow tap against Loki’s temple. He offered a wink with no further embellishment nor explanation.

And then, as if timed perfectly, Loki’s phone gave a chirp. He lifted it to peruse through a few screens, then swiped in a quick response text and sent it off. “My reminder to pick up some dog food on my way home,” he casually offered.

“Anyway, you’ve had a riveting day of firsts, haven’t you? I should take my leave and let you return to…” Loki’s eyes strayed off to the side, clearly searching the ‘empty’ portion of the room. “Your meditations.”

---

Loki would have given an answer, certain in his own cleverness, but it was Odin the All-Father on the other side of the glass, not the second son, fallen from favor. The prince who paced the hall outside of the room had information to give, and Odin would hear it, if he might.

Unfortunately, that prince was no less clever than the one in Odin’s world, and no les theatrical. His Midgardian device oh so conveniently sounded before the All-Father could draw him out. The excuse, manufactured or not, provided the other Asgardian the opportunity to escape from the conversation with minimal answers given. Odin’s eyes narrowed, if only for an instant. Such a troublesome little devil.

“Will you not stay, my son? I have missed you. I do not know what has transpired between you and the Odin of your own world, but I should very much like your company.” It was another gamble, of course. Loki was dangerous. He could just as easily turn on Odin as prove useful to him. That was a risk Odin was willing to entertain for the moment.

---

A hand was placed over Loki’s heart, and he made a good showing of anguish as he shook his head.

“If only I could,” he replied, his words nearly a sigh tinged with manufactured regret. While others might balk at such an attitude in the face of Asgard’s highest ruler, between the residual burn of being exiled from Asgard by the woman who raised him and the fact that Odin All-Father was nowhere to be found when needed most… Loki felt he’d earned the right to be petty when given ample reason to be.

“Unfortunately, I have a schedule to keep, a campaign to run, a dog to feed…” Flipping through the gallery on his phone, Loki lifted the small screen to show the All-Father. The picture was of a smaller rust-colored dog, contented beyond belief as he rolled on top of some fallen leaves. “How can you say no to that face, I ask you?”

The phone was pocketed, and it seemed as if Loki was about to turn to leave. He paused, though, clearly aware in that second that their conversation was still a mess of unraveled threads, many of which had been left askew and fraying. “We’ll have time, Father. We’ll have plenty of time to talk.”