The Ant and the Boot

The kid came out alright the next morning. I couldn’t say I did, haggard and half asleep since I’d been up almost the rest of the night worrying, but I still managed to stumble out of my bed in the morning and pull my pants on. What I wasn’t prepared for was the fact that there wasn’t any goddamn coffee in the entire city. Actually, none of them even knew what coffee was besides Thor – even he needed a refresher, in which I told him it was the drink he smashed against the ground when he first came to earth – but, needless to say, I didn’t get any when I woke up.

Her dress was much the same as the one she wore the day before, loose and Grecian in the way that made me think of a painting of Aphrodite my dad kept on the wall in his study. This one was a light sea green color, much the same as her eyes, and was tied by a soft silver sash. Her hair was pulled up and secured with what looked like a silver laurel, adding to the Greek theme. She seemed calm, unbothered and a few shades happier than she had been earlier.

He was there, of course, looking foreboding and dark next to her. Actually, the more disturbing thing about him today was that he actually looked relatively happy; I tend to get nervous when the bad guy smiles, looking for remote bombs or little red laser pointers pointed at my forehead. But when he smiled and held her hand they actually might have passed off for a cute couple at a Star Trek convention, which bothered me more deeply than I cared to say aloud. I preferred my bad guys to be big and ugly or have complementary evil mustaches, maybe an evil laugh for effect. The idea that they could look normal just felt – well, wrong.

The Asgardians were having some sort of event – who knows, it might have been in my honor – and I had to admit that I was underdressed for it. They all seemed to glitter and glow in shining armor and elegant gowns while I, in my jeans and t-shirt, looked painfully mortal. Hell, even Dove looked like one of them. I put on the Iron Man suit just to give myself a bit of flavor, hanging around the edges of the party. It wasn’t my typical M.O., but this wasn’t my usual gathering of hipsters, tech geeks, and sexy reporters.

The weirdest thing about their party was the dancing. I mean, really. It wasn’t that they didn’t dance – they had plenty of it – but when they danced they never, ever came in contact with their partner. In my mind that ruined half the fun of dancing in the first place, since all earthlings knew that dancing was just an excuse to touch pretty girls without getting yelled at. I watched them spiral around each other stoically, their eyes politely averted, their hands down at their sides. They looked like eerily painted mimes, tall and beautiful but drained of all the things that set them apart from one another. Hell, Jarvis had more personality than most of these guys, though I had programmed him to be sassy. I sipped at some Asgardian juice thing that tasted weird until I grew bored.

“Hell, what’s up with this party?” I muttered, setting the glass aside on a table. I glanced over at Dove, who stood slightly apart from Loki now as he was turned toward his brother. I caught her eye and motioned her over. To her credit she didn’t even glance back at Loki as she walked away.

“Hey Tony,” she said, smiling. She rested her palm on the table, leaning on one hip. The kid had some nice curves that took a lot to ignore, but I managed. I gestured around vaguely.

“Lame party, huh? I mean, look at them dancing.”

“They’re dances are a little stiff for me,” she laughed, nodding in agreement. I glanced around, looking for the source of the band – mostly composed of windy sounding instruments that were foreign to my ears – but didn’t find them. They were probably high in the rafters or hidden from view in some way or another.

“That’s an understatement. It’s like dancing at a funeral,” I joked. I glanced over at her, watching her watch them and smile. She looked more at ease than she had before.

“Speechless treat you okay last night?” I asked, maybe a bit more abrasively than I should have. She glanced at me, raising an eyebrow.

“That wasn’t a direct inquiry into my sex life, was it?”

“No, I don’t want to hear about any of that.”

She smiled ruefully, giving me an affectionate nudge. I noticed that her fingernails had been bitten down to the quick.

“He was actually nice last night. Didn’t ask for anything. He even apologized in his own mute way,” she replied with a shrug. Part of me was a little disappointed; not because I wanted him to hurt her, of course, but because I could see how hard it was already to dissever her from Loki already and didn’t want to make it any more difficult.

I flashed a quick smile, folding my arms on the table. I watched the Asgardians move, their rigid spiraling motions seeming so strange. How could people live without ever looking at or touching each other?

I smiled ruefully. Hey, I served my time. I’d gone long enough without causing any trouble. I turned to Dove, nudging her with my elbow.

“Hey, wanna dance?”



The cool metal of Tony’s suit shifted as I took his hand, the tiny metal plates moving stiffly under my fingers. He winked at me, leading me to an unoccupied section of the banquet hall and gripped my waist in an easy waltz. I rested my hand on the shoulder guard of his suit as we began to spin.

Tony’s eyes fell over my arm, reading the word that had been etched there in black ink. His brow furrowed.

“He hasn’t done it yet, has he?” he asked.

“Done what?”

“Married you.”

I shook my head, my own smile slipping off my face.

“I don’t think so. Customs here are different, but I’m sure I would still be aware if I were married.”

Tony laughed.

“Listen to you, they’ve got you talking like one of them now. Soon enough you’ll start speaking in thees and thous,” he teased, though seriousness laced his words. He pulled me closer conspiratorially, as though to hide his words from Asgardian ears.

“Come on, Agent Lancaster. Remember who you are. He can’t control you.”

I smiled again, resting my head against his cold suit of armor. I thought back to the weeks before, when Loki fed me and hid me, and to this morning when he drew me out of bed into his arms with a smile that truly lit up his face. But those times, as much as they tied me to him, could never be enough to erase what he had put me through. I knew that side of him would emerge again and I didn’t want to fall victim when it did.

I loved him and I hated him. Whichever it was, I knew I would be safer if I got away.

“I know,” I replied, “I’m a mortal. I’m stronger than that. I know.”

“We should leave before he can marry you. Tonight.”

I closed my eyes. The arc reactor in his chest hummed against my cheek.

“Tonight,” I agreed.



Loki was strangely unbothered when I returned to his side, releasing Tony’s hand as we approached. He didn’t appear pleased, but he lacked his usual angry stiffness. For some reason this frightened me. Tony passed ahead of me, stopping next to Loki’s shoulder and whispering something in his ear too low for me to hear. I stood by, watching them move. Whatever it was made that anger flicker over Loki’s eyes momentarily as Tony brushed past, rigid and daunting. I didn’t know what to say when Loki approached me, taking up both my hands in his, so instead I remained silent.

He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my fingers lightly, regarding me as he did so. I made no movement so he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close to him, his free arm holding one of my hands. He held me much the same as Tony had, though Loki lacked Tony’s experienced posture. Still, he moved softly in relaxed, controlled steps, moving to the sound of a song I could hear. I followed his lead, resting my hand on his shoulder.

“You seem… relaxed,” I observed finally, watching his gaze. He smiled twirling me suddenly. My feet lifted off the air for a moment and my breath caught in my throat, but he caught me lightly as my feet returned to the ground.

I am relaxed.

I was both unnerved and offput by Loki’s change. In one hand I enjoyed this side of him, an idealistic part of my mind make-believing that something had softened his heart and he was beginning to find calm and happiness again. The more rational side of me knew well that those kinds of drastic personality changes couldn’t occur overnight, therefore any change in demeanor was either an act or her had something up his sleeve.

“Loki, I…” I began to speak, but he touched a finger to my lips before kissing me softly, drawing our dance to a close. He pulled back, cupping my face in his hand and regarding me intently. A smile played at the corner of his lips. I love you, he mouthed, resting his forehead against mine.

A mix of anger and childlike adoration welled inside of me. I was angry because, so soon after I had made my choice, he was calling my choice into question. I had decided to leave, but I still had such strong feelings connecting me to Loki that I couldn’t tear myself away. If Tony could see the weakness in my heart he would be ashamed.

Loki took my hand, nodding his head toward the doorway. He wanted to go. He smiled reassuringly, pulling me along with a gentle tug. I followed, still trying to fight the turmoil waging war inside my head.

He pulled me out of the party, past our room and far down into a corridor I had never seen before. The lights became dimmer and farther apart, most of the corridor cast in darkness. A chill rose from the ground and I shivered, looking around warily. Loki drew me close to his side, a comforting arm draping around my shoulders.

We walked until we reached a doorway, high and made of something that resembled stone. He pulled and the door glided open on silent hinges. I noticed briefly a discarded lock, large and ugly, lying broken on the ground.

“Loki? Loki, what is this place?”

He simply smiled at me, wrapping his arm tighter around my shoulders.

The room we walked into was vast, reaching up into the air in a cavernous spiral until darkness obscured its ascent. Only a single window somewhere high above filtered light down in radiant moonbeams that played tricks on the stones with soft blue light. There were no torches, only rotating columns and stone walls and stone floors. At the center of the room was a single pedestal which bore the only light in the room: a blue cube that radiated an eerie glow, shifting and shimmering within itself as if filled with tiny veins of lightning.

The Tesseract.

My eyes widened in shock. How could it be so easy to get to? I began to pull away from Loki but he held me fast, pulling me closer to the blue cube.

“Loki, no, we shouldn’t be here,” I insisted, but he pulled me up with him to the altar. He gripped my hands in his, looking at me in the blue light. His eyes seemed sincere, relaxed.

“Loki, please, whatever you’re doing – whatever you’re going to do – don’t,” I pleaded, squeezing his fingers tightly. As I glanced around I noticed the lumps on the ground, shadows that I hadn’t noticed before, resting limply against the stones. I realized with a pang of horror that they were the guardsmen. They were all dead, either by Loki’s hand or that of an accomplice.

I desperately thought of some way to stop him. I pulled my arms back, trying to break free of his hold, but he was stronger than me and more determined than I was. He watched me struggle, his fingers iron against my skin. I stared up into his beautiful green eyes, a last desperate plea reaching my lips.

“Loki, please, if you don’t do this I promise I’ll stay here with you forever. I’ll love you forever. Just please, Loki, stop.”

He looked sad as he pulled me close, his breath hanging visibly in the air as he lingered a hair’s width in front of my face. I sighed shakily as his lips pressed soft against mine, tender and gentle.

With the hand that didn’t hold me he reached down, gripping the Tesseract in his palm. Blue light danced around the room as he lifted it, sound vanishing and drowning out my shout of “No!” the moment it left my lips. I felt cold iron against my body and turned back to Loki, now adorning the armor he had worn when I had first met him in Germany. That same conviction was in his eyes, and against my back I could feel the cool rod of his scepter.

“I am filled with glorious purpose,” he whispered, his voice gaining strength as he spoke. I stared at him, my voice catching in my throat.

“I love you, Dovesary, and I shall make you a queen.”



They found me in my sleep. The Chitauri crept up upon my tortured soul and shook me into waking, dragging me before their king. I stared up into the face of a beast, its body great, its face dark and its eyes smoldering in its eye sockets like hellfire. I crumbled before him battered and broken, armor and power gone. The only thing that I had left to me within this realm of spirit was my voice, which sat rusty within my throat.

“You are Loki, God of Mischief,” the beast said in a tone that grated against my ears like gravel. “I have been watching you for a long time. I am Thanos, God of Death. Bow before me and I shall offer you a second chance at power.”

I bowed, and within moments I felt my armor return to my body, strength flooding my veins. I looked into the face of the death god and he smiled, making the Chitauri chitter around us.

“I see use for you yet, Laufeyson,” the death god rumbled. “Bring me the Tesseract and we shall smite our enemies, return to you the earth, and hand you what you seek most.”

Dove appeared before me, lovely and naked, her phantom hand brushing across my cheek. On her head sat a crown of golden leaves. She kissed me softly, a smile turning up her lips.

“Make me a queen, Loki,” she whispered, “And I will never stray from your side again.”

“I accept your offer,” I replied, tearing my eyes away from the shadow to face the death god. He smiled and sat upon a thrown made of crushed bones and iron, his smoldering eyes glowing with unearthly light.

“I shall grant you the power, Loki,” the death god instructed. “Do not displease me, and all your armor, your voice will return when you take the Tesseract into your hands. Hand it to me and I will give you so much more.”

He vanished as I awoke on the day of my second reckoning, arms still folded around Dove. Her arm was splayed out across the sheets, the word “wife” stark against her pale skin. I brushed my lips against her hair, wrapping my arms around her shoulders.

I promised I would make her a queen.

So now I held her as I had, arms wrapped around her willowy frame, armor and voice returned to me and power surging through my entire being. She trembled in my arms, overcome. She did not yet understand what I was giving her.

She stumbled away from me and ran, eyes wide as she moved like a white phantom out of the halls. I was unconcerned: I would bring her back to me after the battle was over. But now was the time to fight, and she would be safer hidden within these stone halls.

With a triumphant smile I closed my eyes, pressing the Tesseract to my chest and summoning the death god and his army.