Loki stared idly out the window, watching the landscape rumble past at an agonizingly slow pace. He didn't know how Midgardians stood this kind of transportation. This was his first time riding a train, and after only a few minutes he had already resolved to make it his last. He wished he had insisted on using his own means of transportation instead of accompanying Thor and his companions. But it was too late now, of course: they were not alone in the car, and vanishing in front of all these mortals would surely draw unwanted attention.

To amuse himself, Loki took to observing the Midgardians around them. There were several in business attire scattered throughout the rows, most of them using their portable electronic devices. An old woman in the back of the car was knitting a seemingly endless scarf while three teenagers in the row in front of her talked and laughed loudly, reminding Loki distastefully of Thor and his friends in their youth. One of the passengers carried several bags of groceries, the contents of which rattled maddeningly with the movement of the train.

In this company, the group of self-proclaimed heroes blended in well enough, though it would help if Thor had not refused the glamor Loki offered to make him appear more mortal. The other Avengers were somewhat more experienced with going unnoticed in mortal society.

The seats in this car were gathered in groups of four, facing each other across a table. The Avengers had squeezed in around two of these tables, one on either side of the aisle. They seemed happy enough with this arrangement, but Loki had no desire to get closer than absolutely necessary to these reluctant allies, and had therefore chosen a seat for himself in the empty row behind them. They had all thought Thor mad when he suggested that Loki could help them, and had only acquiesced to his presence when it became clear that Thor would not accompany them without his brother. Although Loki appreciated the sentiment, he was beginning to wish Thor had left him behind after all. He grew weary of the endless hostility and suspicion of these Midgardians.

He was jolted from his thoughts by the feeling of yet another pair of eyes on him, so he turned away from the window to see which of the Avengers was glaring at him now. But to his surprise, it was not one of the Midgardian heroes watching him. It was a child: a little girl with wide brown eyes and a halo of wildly curling black hair around her face. She was, inexplicably, staring at him.

"What?" He snapped, not in the mood to be scrutinized by a mortal child.

"I'm looking for my mama," the child said seriously. "Have you seen her?"

"No. Go away," Loki replied dismissively.

"She looks like me, but taller," the girl continued, undeterred. "She said if I got lost I should find someone nice and ask them for help."

"I am not nice," Loki growled. "Ask someone else."

The girl regarded him seriously. "Are you sure?" She asked, oblivious to his growing irritation. "You look nice."

"Well, I'm not," Loki snarled. "And I thought I told you to go away?" But then, unaccountably, his anger drained away, and he found himself preoccupied with the way the girl's bottom lip began to tremble and the tears that welled up in her eyes.

"Oh, don't do that," Loki sighed, feeling a stab of something he refused to name guilt. Crying children attracted attention, which is precisely what he wished to avoid. That was the only reason that he gentled his tone to something that could possibly be construed as comforting when he next addressed the girl. "Don't cry. It's all right."

But the words didn't seem to have any effect on the girl, and there were now tears dripping down her cheeks. She looked moments away from a meltdown. In desperation, Loki glanced around the car. None of the other passengers were looking in his direction, so he slipped from his chair to kneel down in the aisle beside the child, bringing them to eye level. "It's all right. Here, look at this." Making sure that their bodies blocked what he was doing from the rest of the passengers, he held his hands out in front of him. A touch of glamor was all that was needed, and suddenly the girl's eyes went wide, tears forgotten as she watched the shining green and gold butterfly materialize in the palm of his hand.

"Oooh," the girl breathed, yellow light reflecting in her eyes. Loki allowed himself a small smile. He had not used glamor for something so simple and harmless in years. This was illusion work at its most basic, no challenge or trickery to it, and yet he found himself enjoying it all the same. In all of his years of using his talents for war, he had almost forgotten that magic could be beautiful too.

"Hold out your hand," he told her softly. She did, and for just a moment he was stunned into stillness. He'd forgotten what it felt like to be trusted. He sent the butterfly's wings into motion, and it fluttered across into her open hand. She giggled with delight when it landed in her palm, and he felt something hard and sharp inside him soften for the first time in years. The girl raised her other hand to the butterfly's wing, and watched in wonder as it dissolved into golden sparks at the touch of her finger.

"Do it again!" The child begged, grinning at Loki with such enthusiasm that he could not do anything but smile.

"Ella?" Came a woman's voice from the end of the train car. Loki glanced behind him and saw a woman with the same dark eyes and curly hair as the child. She could only be the girl's mother.

"Some other time," Loki told the girl quietly, trying to ignore the ache in his chest when he saw her disappointment. "Your mother is waiting."

The girl, Ella apparently, looked around him and saw the woman coming down the aisle. "Mama!" She said excitedly, and ran over to the woman.

"Don't wander off like that, Ella," she scolded. "I was worried about you." She looked up at Loki as he stood, straightening his Midgardian suit. "I hope she wasn't bothering you."

"Not at all," he replied, and was surprised to find that it was true.

"He showed me a magic trick!" Ella told her mother enthusiastically. "He made a magic butterfly!"

"Did he really?" The mother said, smiling indulgently. "Thanks for looking out for her," she said to Loki, and he almost laughed at the irony of being thanked for caring for one little mortal when he'd been responsible for the deaths of so many others.

"It was no trouble at all," he replied instead, and flashed a smile at the child. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ella."

"You too," the girl said shyly. "Thanks for showing me a magic trick."

Loki smiled and watches the mother lead her daughter away back to their own car. He was still smiling when he returned to his seat. It only returned to his customary glare when he noticed that the Avengers had fallen silent, staring at him with varying degrees of astonishment and mistrust.

"Something I can help you with?" He snapped, but the anger felt perfunctory, habitual, and there was no real venom behind the words.

"So the tin man has a heart after all," Stark said, and Loki misliked the appraising look in the mortal's eyes.

Thor shook his head in amazement. "You never cease to surprise me, brother."

Loki called up a grin, an unsettling sort of smile that showed a few too many teeth, and noted with bitter satisfaction that the Avengers relaxed slightly. This, at least, they were familiar with. "What kind of trickster would I be if I did?"

But when Earth's heroes eventually turned their attention away from him, he found his expression settling back into something far softer. He stared out the window, and thought perhaps there was something in this realm worth saving after all.