Lost But Not Forgotten

                                    

                                          
If she let go, Sif feared, she might lose him again. So she held  tighter, pressing hard kisses onto his head, her tears of joys soaking  into his hair. The lean, strong arms that squeezed her in return were  bliss. She thought she would never feel this again.
                          
"My darling Ollie," she said. "I am so sorry."
                          
"For what?" he said in a deeper voice than she remembered.
                          
"I put you in danger. I should have known better."
                          
"The  stampede wasn't your fault, Mother." His words were muffled on her  shoulder. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I shouldn't have let those  trolls get to you."
                          
He doesn't know, Sif realized, who really was  to blame. "We need to talk later, love." She crushed him harder against  her cheek. "But for now let me hold you. I missed you so much."
                          
His hold tightened. "I missed you too."
                          
***
                          
"What in the godforsaken universe happened here?"
                          
Loki  had opened his eyes to the aftermath of war. Only vague familiarities  surrounded him, the smell of smelting, the feel of manufactured  atmosphere, the disorienting displacement from home. It was when The  Collector had entered, drink in hand, his cloak sweeping a path through  broken glass, scattered artifacts and withered flora, that Loki knew he  had made it to Knowhere.
                          
"Where is the Aether?" he then asked. There was a disturbing amount of guilt Tivan was trying to hide in his cocktail.
                          
"Your lady is quite impressive," he said. "A little barbaric..."
                          
"You don't need to tell me that." Loki stepped closer, shards crunching under his boots. "Tivan, where is the Aether?"
                          
"Did  you think," he began, actually attempting charm, "I wanted you back  here for only your pretty face?" He raised his hand to what he believed  he owned, but withdrew once fully seeing Loki's face wasn't as pretty as  he remembered. "I need your help, Laufeyson." Translated: the Aether  was gone.
                          
"That is not my name," Loki said. "The Bringer of  Ragnarok will be an Odinson. And all those who parish will know it."  Present company included if it came down to it. "The deal was, you keep  it protected and I help you collect the other four. You have failed to  uphold your end of the bargain, therefore I am no longer bound by our  current contract."
                          
"Hmmm," Tivan mused. He then turned, moving to a  small tattered table which held a set of dusty antique bottles. "I  don't think you want to go, dear 'Bringer of Ragnarok.'" He partially  filled his glass with an unnaturally purple liquid, then topped it off  with a splash of something clear, and probadly quite potent. "Curious,"  he said. "Your ambition is to ultimately murder one who was worth  sacrificing your freedom for, perhaps not directly, but war is war and  you can expect she'll be on the frontlines." His pinky was used to stir  the drink. "You are the most contradictory being I have ever met."  Turning, he sucked the liquid from his finger, slowly. It popped from  his lips. "You understand why I had to have you."
                          
"You don't have  me." These displays had no effect on Loki. He's dealt with enough  enchanters in his time, building up resistances after that unfortunate  tangle with Lorelei. "I am your equal." He joined the ancient at the  table, helping himself, hoping whatever inebriant this was would dull  the throb of his stab wound, among other aches. "You know this. You have  not chained me or stuffed me into a capsule. You allow me to roam  freely. I could escape these flimsy walls in a heartbeat of magic." He  took a drink. It tasted strange, and burned, but ultimately felt good.  "You are correct in assuming I want to be here," he concluded, "But only  under my conditions."