Note: Spoilers for Thor: Ragnarok ahead. The events in this story take place during and prior to the events of MCU's Thor film franchise.

PROLOGUE

Sakkar was a bloodthirsty planet.

That was clear enough to Loki as he sat in the Grandmaster's box, watching the crowds beyond the glass cheer and shout for the fighting to begin. It reminded him vaguely of hounds baying for blood. Such cruel sport was frowned upon on Asgard; it was considered the height of base vulgarity to enjoy watching people in pain, to place money on their lives.

Despite himself, however, Loki couldn't help but find it a little thrilling. The odds seemed stacked against Thor, certainly. The Grandmaster's champion was reputed to be a fearsome creature, unbeaten in every match over the last several years within the arena. Thor Odinson looked pitiful in comparison, standing as small as an ant down in the ring. Loki was struck by how insignificant his brother looked. It made something small rise in his chest, something he hated to admit felt a lot like concern.

Any worry Loki might have felt on Thor's behalf, however, was tempered easily by other feelings. It was satisfying, petty as that may have been, for the golden prince of Asgard to be made to prove himself, while he, Loki, was favoured enough to be permitted into the Grandmaster's box.

He also had to grudgingly admit the fact that Thor had always managed to linger like a bad smell despite anyone's attempts to kill him. His brother had a habit of surviving, and Loki didn't think he would give that habit up any time soon.

In fact, he'd placed a very large bet on that.

On the far end of the sofa, Loki heard the Grandmaster clear his throat and begin to speak. His voice echoed through the arena, mirrored by flickering images of his face that appeared seemingly out of thin air. Loki couldn't help but be impressed as he waited for the introductions to be over.

"Ladies and gentleman, I give you your champion!"

No sooner had the words left the Grandmaster's mouth did something move at the far end of the arena. The 'champion' tore through its metal door as though it were made of paper. Loki watched with mounting horror as the beast blundered its way into the arena below, magnified a hundredfold by the holograms projected around the stands.

Oh gods no. Not him.

It felt as though the blood had left his face as Loki watched the Hulk roar his fury skyward. The crowd roared back in response, getting to their feet as though they knew the bloodshed they had paid for was imminent. Loki could almost feel the pain of their last encounter as he watched the vast green monster pause, eyes fixed on Thor.

Thor, the fool, was smiling up at them. "He's a friend from work!"

His brother said something else, too, but Loki was no longer listening. He was frightened, he realised with some disgust as he sat rigid in his seat. Frightened of some freakish mortal. It was laughable, really, but he had never felt further from laughing in his life. He wished Thor would get on with the fighting, before the beast looked up and recognised Loki sitting there.

He dreaded to think how strong its memory might be.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long for the fight to begin. No sooner had Thor's delight in seeing his old friend hit him did he realise it was all misplaced. The Hulk charged at full force toward him anyway. Loki let out a shaking breath.

The Grandmaster, who had been watching the progress of his champion with eager eyes, heard the sigh and looked over at him.

"Oh my, you're not looking well. Another drink for our guest, please," the Grandmaster called to the gaggle of serving girls waiting behind him. Loki was aware of a movement on his left, before a cup of deep red wine was offered before him. Good. He enjoyed wine, particularly red. It had always helped settle his nerves. He took it from the girl's hands, glancing between the cup and the events down in the arena. Things were not looking good for Thor. Loki took a deep sip of wine, and the servant moved back against the wall.

After a few minutes, however, the tables had begun to turn between the fighters. Thor was matching the Hulk's every strike, even beginning to best him. Loki watched with burgeoning interest as his brother landed a particularly strong blow that sent the monster flying into the opposite wall. I may have my winnings sooner than I thought, he mused, taking another sip from his cup. It was very good, he thought briefly. Rich and fruity, like the wines Frigga had kept in her chambers for his visits. The Grandmaster is a man of taste, thought Loki, in wine if not in champions.

No sooner had the thought entered his mind, however, did Thor do something impeccably stupid. He had stopped fighting, and was approaching the fallen Hulk slowly, talking all the while. From the few clear words ringing around the arena, it appeared he was trying to remind Banner of their friendship and their days fighting together on Midgard. Loki closed his eyes.

You utter fool.

The gasp of the crowd, and the laughter of the Grandmaster, made Loki open his eyes again. Thor was being battered against the ground like a ragdoll, hanging limp from the Hulk's enormous green fist until he was tossed aside, wheezing.

"Ha!" Loki shouted before he could stop himself, jumping to his feet and staring down at his brother's coughing form. Wine sloshed from his cup on to the floor. "That's how it feels!"

Thor managed to pick himself up, coughing heavily. Loki knew exactly how he was feeling; winded, bruised and utterly humiliated. He felt no pity. In fact, he was revelling that he at least was not the only one to have suffered such injustice at the hands of the Hulk.

The fight had continued again in full swing. Thor, having been completely disabused of the idea that his friend Banner was still somewhere within the muscled confines of the beast, fought with a ferocity that Loki recognised from the battles of their youth. He watched unblinkingly, cheering his brother on silently despite himself.

A flicker of movement on the floor to his left momentarily caught Loki's attention, and he dragged his gaze away from the arena for a few moments. The serving-girl who had brought him the cup was now mopping up the wine he had spilt in his vindication. Loki hadn't looked at her before, but now that he was looking, she was rather odd. Where the other women considered beautiful enough to serve the Grandmaster directly were conspicuous in their looks, hailing from worlds Loki had never known, this woman seemed comparatively familiar. Her ashen hair was tied at the nape of her neck into a complicated bun, and the hands that scrubbed at the floor were pale and unblemished. He couldn't see her face, as her eyes were focused on the ground, but Loki got the vague impression that she was avoiding his gaze.

Any attention he might have given to this, however, was soon taken by the events down in the arena. Loki looked up to see Thor, close to victory, about to strike his final blow… All other thoughts seemed forgotten in his mind… He let himself smile. You lose, monster.

He heard the Grandmaster gasp, saw a flicker of movement to his right, and suddenly Thor crumpled to the ground. Blue light crackled around him as he began convulsing from some sort of shock. A cheat. Furious, Loki watched as the Hulk got to his feet, roaring, and began to climb the edges of the arena while the crowd bellowed their support. He wondered if they knew what had just happened. They had all likely bet on the Hulk, and didn't care how he won as long as they got their money.

The crowd had begun to chant now, as the Hulk clambered to the top of the arena. Loki watched with dull anger as the creature launched itself off into thin air, falling in a streak of green toward Thor's prone form on the ground below. He had to turn his head. The loud thud and the deafening cheers of the crowd were all he needed to know.

Once the winning announcement was read out, the Grandmaster turned to him. "He's tougher than I expected," the man said, a smile curling his painted blue lips. Loki momentarily thought about stabbing him. "My champion landed right on him, and he's still alive."

Loki looked down into the arena, where some healers had come with a stretcher to carry the unconscious Thor away. Despite himself, he felt a little relieved.

"I hope the fight was to your liking," the Grandmaster continued, his eyes fixed unnervingly on Loki's. In the weeks he had spent on Sakkar, he had come to know that even the most passive of expressions on the ancient being's face could hide murderous intent. Loki had never encountered a more unbalanced individual, and he had been to Midgard.

"It was eye-opening," Loki offered with a smile. Flattery seemed the best course with the Grandmaster. Loki had always been good at flattery. He thought for something else to say that wouldn't betray his anger from being cheated out of his winnings. "The wine, too, was very good."

"Yes, I could tell you were enjoying it," the Grandmaster said, with an inexplicable smile. "I could also see that you were enjoying my girls."

That caught Loki off guard. "Pardon?"

The Grandmaster laughed. It pulled the blue stripe painted across his bottom lip taut, until the cracks in the skin opened wide.

"I saw you staring. She's a little too quiet for my tastes, but if you like her we could come to some sort of… financial arrangement."

Loki felt as though the conversation was getting dangerously out of his control. "Forgive me, Grandmaster, but that was not my intent." He wondered how many other women the Grandmaster had tried to trade with his honoured 'guests'. "The young lady merely looked a little familiar."

"Familiar?" The Grandmaster repeated, his smile widening. He looked over Loki's shoulder. "Did you hear that, my dear? Come a little closer."

Footsteps to his right told Loki that the serving-girl had approached them. He could see her in profile now; her nose turned up slightly at the end, her cheekbones were high, her eyes hazel. Loki watched her with growing shock, saying nothing at all.

"Your name, please, my dear?"

The woman paused for a few moments. "Servant 862887, Grandmaster." Her voice was soft. The familiarity of it seemed to burn through his mind.

"Look at this man for me," the Grandmaster asked her, pointing toward Loki. There were a few moments of hesitation. Then she looked him straight in the eye.

"See, he's not all that bad to look at, is he?" The Grandmaster joked, smiling at Loki. Loki wondered what his game was in all this, but felt perhaps there was none. He is simply a madman. "Do you recognise her?"

Loki looked at the woman in front of him. She was a head shorter than him, standing so straight it was as if there were a metal rod where her spine should have been. Her eyes were framed by dark lashes as she stared at him, the expression within them utterly blank. Her nose and cheeks were lightly dusted with freckles.

There were less of them than he remembered.

"I was mistaken," Loki answered, smiling slightly. The woman did not return it. He looked back at the Grandmaster. "I'm afraid I don't know her."

Smiling, the Grandmaster clapped his hands together. "Well then, there's nothing to keep us here. You're welcome to join us for dinner down in the lounge."

The woman sensed her cue to leave, bowing to the Grandmaster and turning on her heel to walk away. Loki watched her walk away for a moment, before turning back to his host.

"That's most kind, thank you."

The Grandmaster lowered his voice for a moment. "Remember what I said, though. If you want her, we can come to some arrangement."

"That won't be necessary," Loki answered, more forcefully than he'd meant to. The Grandmaster simply smiled again, and walked out of the room himself. Loki stood there for a little while, watching the crowds file out of the arena beyond the glass. All thought of the fight had left his mind for the time being.

He thought of the expressionless gaze the woman had given him, even when the Grandmaster couldn't see. It was as though he meant nothing at all to her, as though she could not recall ever having known him. Despite himself, despite the indifference he had shown her all those years ago, Loki found himself insulted at her welcome.

She was his wife, after all.