Another Avenger-verse Loki fic for you guys. Inspired by the actor who portrays him, Tom Hiddleston, who, even now, still holds to the belief that Loki is redeemable.

Spoilers and angst abound.

I deny any and all rights to The Avengers and its affliates!

They scatter like insects when he fires first. His world blurs, his vision still adjusting from the journey itself. Noise wracks his ears and he moves faster than they can, slamming some into walls, blasting others with the scepter.

He corrupts the archer. The scientist. They stave off the man known as Nick Fury and he wants to smile at how easily they gave in.

Smoke billows from the machinery he's damaged.

But the Tesseract remains unharmed, and that's all that matters.

Is it? You walk away and leave dead and dying men in your wake. What's become of you?

Loki hands the briefcase containing the Cube over to Barton as they lead him out of the soon-to-be ruins of the SHIELD base.

He drives the machine into the man's eye with far more force than necessary.

The crowd shouts and screams and scatters, and he looks up at them with a satisfied smile. They know him, now. And soon enough, they will know why he has come.

The man beneath his grip convulses and trembles, and a whimper escapes into the air.

Fear. Pain. Helplessness. This mortal is feeling them all.

Soon the process is over and with a sharp tug he releases the human's face, whirling around to subdue the panicking flock.

He doesn't consider whether the man's eye will survive.

He's falling, gently…too gently. The cold night air tickles his skin as they descend.

And then, he is thrown into the dust, landing hard on his back.

Loki laughs up at the angry face of his adopted brother.

The Thunderer looks at him with fury and disdain, and something else.


The fool doesn't get it.

"I am a king!"

Loki freezes when Thor grabs him, his face awash with determination and distress.

"Not here! You give up the Tesseract! You give up this poisonous dream! You come home…"

He feels Thor's hand on his face, the rough fingers pressing into the back of his skull. He meets those somber blue eyes and stops moving for but a second in time.


"I don't have it."

She's cracking then, her eyes wide and for the first time since meeting this cold and calculating assassin he knows he has the upper hand. Her feelings, she claimed, were unimportant. Nonexistent, perhaps. She was a professional.

Then why was her mouth falling ever so slightly and her body shifting away?

Loki advances quickly, teeth gritting together and he feels the electricity of victory course through his veins.

"…I won't touch Barton…not till' I make him kill you. Slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear… and then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work, and when he screams I'll split his skull."

The woman known as 'The Black Widow' whirls around when he pounds upon the glass between them, and he imagines the taste of fear in her sweat.

"This is my bargain, you mewling quim!"

What a horrible term to use. Mother would be ashamed.

He grins when she calls him a monster.

He can feel the resistance as the sharp edge of the scepter slides through the agent's flesh, and he frowns momentarily at the way Coulson jerks backward, chest surging out from the force of it.

Barbaric. How can you call yourself any better than the monsters that birthed you?

Thor's shocked, anguished shout reverberates in his ears and the frown is replaced with a smirk faster than his brain can even register.

Coulson stumbles to the floor and heaves for breath.

Loki ignores the sounds of his struggle for life.

He hesitates, hand hovering over the release on the screen and he looks back to meet the sad, penetrating gaze staring back at him through the green glass.

Don't push it. He's your brother.

He's your brother.

He's your brother.

His lips pull upward, fingers settling with a dramatic flair on the button to send his not-brother hurdling through the thin air and rushing winds below.

Those blue eyes are close again, boring into him and a large hand jerks into the air.

"Look at this! Look around you! You think this madness will end with your rule?"

Even from atop Stark's tower he can hear them, the terrified screams of a thousand burning mortals.


The smells of smoke and blood and Chitauri flesh fill his nose and he looks back slightly, sees the city below in chaos. His army is everywhere, their shrill shrieks echoing in the wind. Thor's allies struggle to defend the weak.

"It's too late. It's too late to stop it."

Again, time stops. Blue eyes gaze into his and Thor shakes his head and holds him tight.

"No. We can, together."

You can change this.

His hand rushes forward and Thor shouts in pain, dropping Mjolnir and gripping the small blade in his side.

Loki doesn't acknowledge the tear as it runs down his cheek.


His soul has been stained by his own actions and he knows he's crossed a line he can never step backward from.

Except you can. These wounds can heal. It's never too late.

He glares up at Thor as the Tesseract's chamber is presented to him. With a furrowed and hesitant brow he grips the handle, eyes staring into the shining cube as it glows brighter and brighter and his body grows light.

Thor has activated its power and in moments he will be in Asgaard, facing punishments unknown and avoiding the disappointed eyes of all those who once called him 'Prince'.

And maybe you can still earn their forgiveness…

He breathes hard against the metal gag latched around his skull and his eyes go red.

He will face his punishments and he will eventually overcome them. And they will know their folly then, when he has brought them into his world of suffering and they are begging for his mercy.

He will bring Asgaard to its knees, and revel in the dying eyes of the Allfather.

No matter what he has to do.

No matter who he has to silence.

The broken whisper goes quiet as he and Thor dissipate in a blue blur, shooting through the cold and colorful reaches of space back to the Realm Eternal.

He struggles not to beckon its return.