Chapter 11

Loki assisted Verda in placing the necklace around her neck and fastening the clasp. As he had done so, he had taken note of the Midgardian clothing Verda appeared to be wearing. To his knowledge she had never been to Midgard. Of course there were books and other information available on Asgard concerning the realm. Perhaps she had consulted them...but why was she there in the first place...and with Sif of all people? The first and last time she had spoken to Sif, she had threatened to kill her. It hadn't exactly boded well for the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Loki found those questions crowded out in his mind by what he had just experienced. His heart ached recalling the vision of an einherjar informing him of his mother's death as he sat helplessly locked away in a cell after he had thoughtlessly and inadvertently sent her murderer in her direction. He could still feel the Titan's grip around his neck. He could not consciously remember all of the memories of a life that he had not and would not now live. They had washed over him as a river swiftly flowing over its banks, though he was sure the entirety of it was locked away within his mind somewhere. He at least grasped the overarching theme of the narrative. What he did recall was more than enough to chill him to the marrow of his bones.

He had been correct in his feeling that it had been fate that had brought him, Selvig, Jane, and Darcy together. They'd both had a role in his visions as well, though very different ones than they now played, at the moment Loki unable to recall every detail.

What he remembered most from the visions, however, was not any specific event, but the pain. Not physical but of another sort, the mental and emotional equivalent of a wound not unlike Thor's that had grown and festered. Each act he'd committed in response to that pain had only led to more of the same as if he existed in some hellish loop. Unfortunately the experience had not given him any insight related to Thor's murder as he had hoped, only raising more questions, though he at least had the satisfaction of knowing he was right. The trajectory of his life had been altered, though why and how that had been accomplished he didn't know. The 'why' was at least as important as the 'how.' Based on what he could recall, he would be glad of it if it were not for Thor's death. Had the only possible way for him to avoid the madness, the darkness he had succumbed to in that aborted future been for his brother to die?

Verda held the pendant in the palm of her hand, appearing to be making a thoughtful study of it. It seemed to Loki her countenance was of one that had believed something to be but a myth and now had been handed tangible proof of its existence.

"Thank you...I will wear it always," Verda said before embracing Loki, "Though as it is fit for a queen as you say, I'm not worthy of it."

"My father didn't believe me fit to be a king." Loki responded.

"As you will prove to him, your father was wrong...not for the first time," Verda replied.

Loki was somewhat shocked at Verda's statement. It seemed to him that just about everyone but himself believed Odin to be infallible.

"You should dress," Verda said as she spied the bag that had held the stones on top of Loki's folded clothing, picking it up, "I'll collect them."

"No...I don't want you to put yourself in any danger."

"There is nothing they could tell me," Verda said, "I knew what they were. I wanted to know if you did. My sister used to speak of them. I suppose it's easier for a Prince of Asgard to obtain such things."

"I stole them from a purveyor of rare goods I'd had dealings with in the past. I'm sure he acquired them by similar means. I replaced them with imitations. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he has yet to realize. By the time he does, he will have no idea who it was that took them. It wasn't a matter of being unable to meet his price. I wanted no one to know I possess them."

"It's frightening to think of such objects falling into the hands of those who don't know their true power. It is no less terrifying to think of them falling into the hands of those that do," Verda said.

"My father has spent his life collecting such relics to prevent such an event."

"What did they show you?" Verda asked.

"What will no longer be. It doesn't matter."

"It does. There exists the same dangers," Verda paused for a moment as she sat on the edge of the bed and stared across the room at the wall as if contemplating before bowing her head, "In your visions, do you recall knowing me?" she asked, Loki pondering the question, appearing puzzled by it, far more by the answer to it.

"No..."

"I am from that future that will no longer be."

"How is that possible? Even my father is unable to traverse through time," Loki said, baffled by Verda's confession.

"Though you didn't know me, we had met once, as children. You saved my life that day. When you returned to Asgard to save us from Hela, you spoke the same words you had spoken to me upon finding me in the pit."

"I remember that day. For once I was the hero," Loki said in disbelief.

"After Thanos' attack, I had wanted to stay, to fight, to share your fate. The others lied to me. They told me that you were going with us to lead us to safety. It wasn't until we arrived on Midgard that I learned you were not among the survivors. Though it had been said you were dead before, somehow I knew…" Verda said as tears began to flow from her eyes as she called up the memories within her, as vivid to her as Loki's recent experience had been to him, Loki reaching out, placing a hand on her shoulder, "For five years I honored you...in rain, snow, the bitterest cold, each day without fail. There were many that believed that like my sister I had lost my mind. We had met only once, you had not even known my name."

"Each day...for five years?" Loki responded, bewildered.

"When the day came to fight him that had taken your life, though not a warrior, I volunteered to do so willingly. I wished to be the one to kill him, to avenge you. I would most likely have failed, but I would have been pleased to die in the attempt and join you in Valhalla. I hated Midgard and life itself in a universe without you in it. After the battle, Thanos was dead, those he had rendered dust by the power of the ancient stones returned to us. Yet for me, nothing had changed. It was not long after that while at the monument as I honored you that a man approached me. He said that if I would help him he would take me back home to Asgard where you would live once again, what had happened could be changed."

"What was it he wanted from you?" Loki asked.

"There was something hidden in New Asgard. It had been brought there by Thor after the battle. He said his son was dying, that the cure was a plant that once grew on Midgard that was now extinct. He needed it so that he could go back to a time when this plant still existed and obtain it to save his son's life. I was sure I knew where to find that which he sought, the crypt under the museum in one of the sepulchers that held the bodies of the honored dead of Midgard who had fought the frost giants at your father's side long ago. Few knew of its existence. Your brother had once told me of it. I had visited him to give him a gift I had made for him for Yule. He invited me in for a drink. We spoke of many things. He mourned Asgard, all those that had been lost, and you."

Loki's mind processed the story Verda had just told him. Just as his visions had done, it left him with more questions.

"Was this man's name Coulson?"

"He wouldn't tell me his name. Likely he thought if I were to be discovered I couldn't give away his identity."

"What of the you that already existed?"

"I know not what became of my past self. I went to my home but she was not there. She never returned. I thought perhaps my arrival had caused her to cease to exist. When the man took me to the past and to the portal to Asgard, he said to continue my life as it had been, that the future would now be different. I decided to ensure that would be so. I overcame my fear. I spent my time in the places I knew you frequented."

"He knew of a portal to Asgard?" Loki asked curiously, gripping her shoulder, "Did you know what was to happen to Thor?"

Verda sadly shook her head.

"If the man I met is responsible, he told me nothing of his plans. I never wished harm to come to your brother."

"Even if it meant I would be king?"

"I had thought it better if you would not be. What time does a king have for any one person, even his queen?" Verda said.

Loki thought back to his childhood, how his father had little time to spend with either of his sons and more recently, the night of Thor's funeral, how he had questioned his father's absence as he had consoled his mother himself. He now knew the reason behind it, the news of Laufey's murder, but it also made Verda's point.

"I had once feared that your brother would go to his death from drink, in my time. Many, including myself, tried but there was nothing anyone could do or say to heal his broken spirit," said Verda.

Loki recalled the vision of his death. Thor had been subdued, helpless to come to his aid, forced to watch his brother die in front of him. It was a similar scenario in reverse that Loki had recently experienced.

"If this man you search for is the same that brought me here...he said if I told anyone my secret, if anyone came to Midgard to find him he would kill them. I was thinking with my heart and not my head. It may have cost your brother his life. When we return I will leave the palace and live out my life alone and in shame as I deserve," Verda said, her head bowed.

"You will leave...my father's service. Never again will you toil for another. You will leave your chambers for my own."

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Phil Coulson, dressed in a dark suit, a pair of sunglasses shielding his eyes from the desert sun, stepped out of the black car in the parking lot of the bar and took stock of his surroundings as he had been trained long ago to do and as he always did. He noticed that the car in which he had arrived was already coated with a layer of dirt and dust. He was glad for once that he wasn't driving Lola, his cherry red and highly modified 1962 Corvette. His eyes fell on the old beige Pinzgauer parked a few vehicles from his own. He didn't see many of those around thus it had grabbed his attention. In a desert environment, it would be quite handy.

Coulson approached the bar, Rita greeting him with her customary smile.

"You in the C.I.A. or something?" Rita asked jokingly.

"Or something," Coulson responded.

"What can I get ya?"

"Nothing at the moment. I'm meeting someone."

"That fella over there? He said he was meeting someone, too." Rita said, pointing to the same booth where Loki and Selvig had sat the night before.

"Yes. Thank you," Coulson said, leaving the bar and making his way to the booth, sliding into it across from its lone occupant, "Mr. Krieger."

"Coulson." Krieger said.

Coulson recognized the man with the dirty blond hair sitting across from him, a pack on the seat next to him, yet he sensed something was off. He concluded the man's nose was different, somewhat crooked. Perhaps he had broken it recently, but if that was the case, he would think it would still be swollen and bruised. It had only been a week since he had met with him for the first time. His voice, as Coulson had noted during their short conversation over the phone, had also altered. Coulson heightened his guard.

" I'm going to have a drink, as are you. What would you like?" Krieger asked.

"Nothing, thank you." Coulson answered.

"We're in a tavern. A tavern is where one goes to drink. You will have a drink with me," Krieger answered.

"All right. A bourbon and soda."

Krieger slid from the booth and approached the bar. Coulson turned, keeping a careful eye on the man as he spoke to the bartender, the blond woman pouring the drinks, placing them on a tray. Krieger returned to the booth with a tall glass mug of beer and a shot of whiskey and a smaller glass of fizzing cola. Coulson watched Krieger empty the shot glass into the mug of beer as he lifted his own drink from the tray and took a small sip from it before sitting it down. He had watched the drink being prepared by the bartender and immediately brought to him by Krieger and had seen no opportunity for it to be adulterated, but he wasn't taking any chances.

"Is something wrong with your drink?" Krieger asked.

"No. It's very good actually. A simple drink but not many get it right. My compliments to the bartender."

"Rita."

"Rita," Coulson repeated, "I've come a long way…"

"I dare say I've come much farther," Krieger responded, appearing to glance around the bar before lifting his mug and emptying half of it.

Lowering his mug, Krieger looked to the empty space across from him. Scanning the immediate vicinity once again, he slid from the booth, grabbing hold of his pack. Coulson's clothing lay in the booth where he had once sat, his pants having slid onto the floor where his socks and shoes rested. Inside the shirt he noticed movement. Holding his hand out over the table, a shoebox appeared in it. He sat the box on the table, removing the top and placing it next to it. Reaching into the buttoned shirt lying on the booth, he removed a frog.

Krieger placed the frog into the box, putting the lid back onto it before rifling through the clothing. He came upon a small, round device and stored it away in a pocket on the front of the pack. Upon further searching, from under the jacket he produced a gun in a holster which he placed in his pack. Folding the clothing, he discovered Coulson's wallet in the pants pocket, removing it and examining the contents including Coulson's ID before replacing it and putting the clothing in his pack. Lifting his mug, he finished the other half of his drink before setting it down. Krieger picked up Coulson's drink, emptying it in one swallow. Coulson was right, it was very good. Krieger, slinging his pack over his shoulder, picked up the shoebox from the table.

As Krieger crossed the bar towards the exit, Sif and Verda rose from a table, following him to the door. Before exiting the bar, shielded from view by the women behind him, Krieger's form morphed into that of Loki, he once again having converted his clothing to his preferred color.

The man and woman, dressed as conservatively as Coulson had been, sitting in the car they had pulled into the parking lot a few minutes before Coulson's arrival watched the three exit the bar and walk past their car before turning their attention back to the entrance.

Loki and the two women approached the Pinzgauer in the parking lot where Selvig sat behind the wheel. The women climbed into the back, as Loki sat in the passenger seat, setting his pack on the floorboard, holding the shoebox in his lap. Selvig looked over at the shoebox as a croaking sound emanated from within it.

"Coulson?" Selvig asked.

Loki looked over at Selvig with a mischievous grin, all the answer Selvig needed as he started the vehicle, backing out of the parking spot.

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Loki exited the vehicle after Selvig had brought it to a stop in the desert, far from town and the road, grabbing his pack and once again placing it over his shoulder, carrying the shoebox. Selvig, Sif, and Verda followed. Loki put the shoebox down, lifting the frog from it and placing it on the dry, dusty ground. Verda held out the shackles Sif had earlier returned to her possession, Loki taking them from her. Coulson found himself standing nude under the desert sun, speechless, with an expression of shock and embarrassment. Looking back at the four that stood before him, noting the presence of the two women, he quickly covered his nether region with both hands as Sif groaned, turning her back. It was the second time that day she had been treated to such an unwelcome sight.

"What the hell….?" Coulson managed to stammer, clearly shaken, and he was not a man easily riled having experienced many strange things over his years with S.H.I.E.L.D. but this took the proverbial cake.

"Get dressed," Loki said, removing the clothing and shoes from his pack and tossing them in front of Coulson.

The four waited as Coulson nervously put his clothes back on, Sif continuing to stand with her back to the man. After Coulson had dressed and tied his tie and straightened it, his hands shaking, Loki shackled his hands behind his back, Coulson too flustered to ask questions. Sif had turned back to face Coulson, Loki gesturing for her to approach, she taking hold of Coulson's arm in a firm grip, Coulson giving a short cry of pain. Sif recalling that he was mortal loosened it somewhat.

Loki approached Selvig, holding out his hand, Selvig taking it.

"Give my thanks to Jane and Darcy. Before I go…" Loki said, removing the umbrella from his pack, it morphing back into its true form, Mjolnir, Selvig staring at the hammer in Loki's hand in astonishment.

"Mjolnir..." Selvig said breathlessly in disbelief.

Loki held out the hammer, Selvig wrapping his hand around it. As Loki let go, the hammer dropped heavily to the ground, Selvig struggling to lift it. Loki, grinning, picked it up, supporting it as Selvig held it between his two hands, staring down at it in awe.

"We must return. Goodbye, Erik Selvig," Loki said, lowering the hammer to his side, "Þakka þér enn og aftur fyrir hjálpina. (Thank you again for your help.)"

"Verði þér að góðu. Mun ég sjá þig aftur? (You're very welcome. Will I see you again?)" Selvig asked.

"Kannski. Þú veist aldrei. Enda er ég guð óheilla. (Perhaps. You never know. I am the god of mischief,)" Loki said with a grin befitting the moniker.

Turning from Selvig, Loki joined Verda, Sif and Coulson, "Heimdall, bring us home!" Loki called out.

Selvig found himself nearly blinded and knocked back on his feet by the bright white light of the Bifrost as it descended as swiftly as a bolt of lightning. Blinking, his eyes readjusting, he looked to where the four had once stood, cautiously approaching the pattern burned into the ground.