Avengers Loki is having a nice relaxing day in the garden.

People don't tend to visit the garden very often. They never have. There are servants who care for the plants, of course, but he can usher them away if they disturb him. He's more than happy to take care of the plants himself today, and he's sure they'll be more than happy to leave when they see him.

The only other person, he reasons, that he may run into while he's here is his mother. She loves her gardens. That's a part of the reason he chose to visit them today: the slim chance his mother will do the same.

And, he supposes, he could run into his other selves. They have this obnoxious tendency to always be where he wants to be, when he wants to be there. But that's a risk he takes whenever he leaves his room. Even his forest is no longer sacred. It's the unfortunate reality of the life he has to live – the life he's been forced to share with two other hims with no regard for his feelings in the matter.

He crouches down next to the rose bushes and takes a deep breath, letting the scent wash over him. It's nice. It's calming. It's certainly better than thinking about the other hims. Yet another reason he likes the garden: it's just so relaxing. How can he have problems when he's in the garden?

He reaches in and plucks a rose from the bush, careful to avoid the thorns that cover its stem. It really is a beautiful rose: a perfect size, a perfect shape, a perfect shade of red. He doesn't know what he'll do with it, but it's nice just to have. He has a piece of the garden in his hand, to hold and to treasure.

He never had beautiful things when he was lost amongst the stars...

"Loki?" Thor's voice calls out. That's... unexpected. "Are you out here?"

Loki stands back up, a bit uncertainly. He's not really sure what he wants to do. A part of him does want to talk to his brother again. It's been a long time since they've had a nice, normal, non-hostile conversation. But at the same time, he doesn't know where they stand with each other. He doesn't know what to expect.

Still, he'll have to talk to his brother eventually. He might as well do it now. They've been living together again for a few days and they haven't had any problems. He has to hope that means something.

So he says, "I'm here." He's not sure he's ready for this conversation, but he's here for it nonetheless.

"I knew I'd find you eventually," Thor says, and there's a lighthearted sound to his voice, which bodes well for the rest of this conversation.

"Should I be concerned that you were looking for me?" Loki plays it off as a joke of a sort, but it's a genuine question. Thor hasn't sought him out at all since he returned. This feels weird.

"Yes and no," Thor replies, which does nothing to quell his worry. He finally steps into view, and he greets his brother with a friendly smile that would have made him feel much better if it wasn't for the answer he just gave.

"Is everything okay?" Loki asks.

"At the moment, yes," Thor answers, which is nice to hear, but Loki suspects nonetheless that this won't be a pleasant conversation. He gestures with his head toward the fountain in the middle of the garden. "Can we sit?"

"I suppose," Loki says cautiously.

They both take a seat on the edge of the fountain, and Loki looks at his brother warily. He's not sure he's ready for this conversation, whatever this conversation is going to be about, but he'd like to get it over with sooner rather than later. The curiosity and the uncertainty will kill him if they don't.

"I've been talking to Mobius," Thor begins.

Loki huffs, rolling his eyes at the name. "Whatever Mobius has said to you, I assure you, I do not want to hear about it." That man is ridiculous. He thinks he knows everything. And the worst part is that he seems to be right. It's both fascinating and terrifying at the same time.

"This, you will," Thor tells him.

Loki raises an eyebrow. He doesn't believe it, but he's curious nonetheless.

"He told me about the future," Thor begins, pulling out a large stack of papers.

"I don't want to hear it," Loki says without hesitation.

Thor pauses, brows furrowed. "But..."

"I don't want to know," Loki repeats. "I do not care about the future that was arbitrarily decided for me. You can do what you want with the information you've learned, but I do not want to hear it." He doesn't want to hear about the misery he's doubtlessly supposed to suffer for the rest of his life. He doesn't want to hear about the greatness that awaits his brother. He doesn't want to mourn the tragedies that the future may hold, or grieve the good that may never come to pass.

Thor frowns. "Are you certain?" he asks. "I know how our parents die. I know–"

"I don't want to hear it," Loki insists. "You may do whatever you'd like with this information and I trust that you will use it well, but I don't want to be involved. I do not want to hear about the fates that have been written for us." He doesn't want to know his supposed future. He doesn't trust himself not to use that knowledge to make it worse.

Thor sighs. "If you're certain, I will respect that," he says. "I've also learned of some things that have happened in the past that we were not supposed to learn until much later – information I truly do think we should have now."

Loki hesitates. He doesn't like the idea of Mobius meddling in their lives this way, like he's some divine being here to save them from themselves. But learning about the past is different, he feels. It's still wrong. It's still something he's not supposed to know. But it's different. It's like a history lesson, and learning history has always been encouraged.

So he nods. "Tell me."

"We have a sister."

Loki just stares at him. "You cannot tell me you were building up this dramatic reveal simply to remind me of Sylvie's existence." Even saying her name makes him grimace. He doesn't want to remember her. He doesn't want to remember that she and her Loki are stealing his life and his relationships from him with every passing moment.

But Thor shakes his head. "Not Sylvie," he says. "A real sister, of our world. Before you or me, our father had another child: Hela, his true firstborn."

Loki furrows his brows. "If this were true, would we not have heard this before?" he asks. "Unless she died before the kingdom could hear of her existence–"

"She never died," Thor tells him, "and her existence has been hidden from us purposefully – us, and all of the Nine Realms. Father banished her to Hel a millennium ago, and wiped her memory from our people."

"Why?" Loki asks. He tries to keep his tone level, his expression even. He doesn't want to make assumptions. Not yet. He finally feels that he and Odin could fix their relationship; rebuild it with a foundation of trust and respect. He doesn't want to lose that.

Thor tells him everything.

He tells him how Odin conquered the Nine Realms by force, then fabricated their history with lies of treaties and communication.

He tells him about Hela's role as his executioner, following in his footsteps as the most ruthless woman in the Nine Realms.

He tells him how Odin changed his ways, swore off needless fighting, and how Hela didn't understand why. She wanted to keep fighting, to do what she'd always been told to do, and Odin banished her for it.

Loki can feel his anger grow with every word. Of course this is what happened. Of course it was Odin's doing. It's just like him, to raise his child to believe one thing, only to demand they change their mind at a moment's notice. He raised his daughter to be a monster, then punished her for playing the part. That's an awfully familiar story.

He really thought things had changed. He really thought Odin had changed. He seemed so eager to accept the other Loki's love; to accept that he was wrong about the way he raised his son. Between his lies that Loki may one day wield the throne and the insistent reminder that all Frost Giants were evil, never to be trusted, Odin had certainly made his fair share of mistakes as a father.

But that's just what he does, isn't it? He wants his children to be an extension of himself, and when they're not, when they dare step out of line, he wants nothing more to do with them. Maybe he was right, then, to let himself fall from the Bifrost when he did. Every day was a living, waking nightmare, but whatever Odin would have had planned for him would have been far worse.

"Loki?"

It's the concern in Thor's voice that brings him back to the present. Thor rests a hand on his brother's shoulder, watching him uncertainly.

"Are you alright?" Thor asks.

"Of course," Loki says tersely. He's fine. He's absolutely fine. He's been raised by an uncaring narcissist, but he's fine.

"Okay," Thor says cautiously, his other hand gently covering Loki's own. "Let's let go of the rose..."

Loki lowers his gaze to see blood dripping from his hand, and he unclenches it instinctually. As the rose falls to the ground, he can see the bloody holes its thorns left in his skin. Was he really holding it this tightly? He hadn't even noticed.

Thor takes his hand, laying it out flat so he can see his palm. "Do you need a healing stone?"

Loki huffs. "For this?" For self-inflicted puncture wounds? And of this size, too? He should hope not. He's had far worse wounds over the last year, and they've all healed just fine on their own. He hardly has a scar on his body – and those he does have are easily concealed beneath his clothing.

"You're bleeding," Thor says, as though he hadn't noticed that himself.

"I'm fine." He conjures a handkerchief and clutches it in his hand, more for his brother's peace of mind than his own. "Thank you for telling me this." His words are flat, emotionless. This information has absolutely ruined his day, but he's sure his life will be better for knowing it. Now he knows who his father is. Now he knows that he was right about his father. That's what really matters.

Thor gives him a sad smile. "I plan to talk to Father about this – most likely tonight when Mobius returns; Sylvie and the other you would like him to be there, too."

And somehow, Loki's day has grown even worse.

"You've already talked to them, I presume," Loki deadpans. Of course he's already talked to them. Of course he came to Loki last. That seems to be a trend these days.

"Only because I found them first," Thor says. "I'd checked the library thinking I may find you there; I hadn't expected to find the other you and Sylvie."

Loki raises an eyebrow. He's sure that's the case. He's sure Thor was looking for him specifically. He just happened to stumble upon the Loki that everybody prefers to him. It was just a coincidence, of course.

Whether Thor doesn't notice his skepticism or chooses to ignore it, it's difficult to tell, but he continues, "I did want to talk to you about something else."

Loki gestures for him to continue.

"As I'm sure you're aware, with the Bifrost broken, the Nine Realms devolved into chaos," Thor begins.

Loki is, in fact, aware of that. With the context that this peace was only achieved through unrelenting violence from his father, he's not sure how to feel about it. Maybe the neighbors should be free to slaughter each other. If they'll be slaughtered either way, there's no point having Asgard do it when they're more than happy to do it themselves.

"I plan to lead our people tomorrow in restoring the peace," Thor says – a peace he'll restore through violence, which is rather ironic, Loki would say. "I was wondering if you would like to come with me."

"Is the other me going?" Loki asks.

"If he is, I'm unaware of it," Thor replies, which is a suspiciously unhelpful answer.

"What did he say when you asked?"

"Nothing; I didn't ask him," Thor says.

"Then I suggest you ask him first," Loki says. "If he and Sylvie plan to go, I will not."

"I don't plan to ask him at all," Thor says. "I'm asking you. I want to go with you."

Loki furrows his brows. "You do?" But... what? Why? Is this his way of sucking up to him? Was he too obvious about his disappointment that he talked to the other Loki first? That must be it. This is his idea of a quick fix. It has to be.

"Of course," Thor says. "I've hardly seen you since you returned. I think this would be a fun way to reconnect: fighting side by side, like old times."

Loki can't help but crack a smile. "I'd like that," he says. "I'd like that a lot." He's fought against his brother more than he's fought with him recently. It's about time to change that, he'd say.

Thor smiles, too. "I was hoping you'd say that." He pats him on the back. "It will be fun. We'll be the heroes of the Nine Realms!"

"Although we did break the Bifrost to begin with," Loki reminds him.

Thor waves that off. "Irrelevant. We'll be heroes regardless!"

Loki shakes his head to himself, amused. "Alright," he says, just to humor him. "We'll be heroes."

Thor grins and pats his back once more, then pushes himself to his feet. "I'll see you tonight, then?"

Loki shakes his head. "I have no interest in talking to Father with you all," he tells him. If he's going to confront his father, he's going to do it alone. Everything he's learned today has been infuriating. He doesn't expect to handle that conversation well, and having to deal with his other selves talking over him would be his final straw.

Thor's smile falters. "No?"

"No," he says. "I will talk to Father on my own time, but not tonight." And certainly not with them.

"Oh." Thor frowns. "Alright. Well, if you change your mind, the invitation is open for you."

"Thank you," Loki says. He does appreciate it. He appreciates this whole conversation, really. Talking to Thor again, being treated like his own person again, it means a lot, and he's grateful for it – even if it had to come on the heels of a rather upsetting conversation.

That puts the smile back on Thor's face. "Of course."

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Bright and early."

Loki scowls playfully, which gets a chuckle out of his brother. Early mornings are not his forte, but he'll manage. For some quality time with his brother, it's worth it.

"And take care of your hand," Thor adds. "We can't have our favorite returning soldier wounded before the battle even starts."

Loki chuckles. "I will."

When Thor leaves, he does so with a smile, and Loki's expression echoes his brother's. This was nice. News about Odin aside, he enjoyed this.

He opens his hand and moves the bloodstained handkerchief aside. The bleeding has begun to subside, but his hand is largely red now from blood he's smeared across it. He sighs and allows his hand rest in the fountain, letting the chill of the water overtake it.

This isn't quite the tranquil afternoon he'd hoped for, but tomorrow will be fun, at least. He has that to look forward to.