Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or any of the properties of Avengers, Infinity War.

'Earth it is,' Thor said.

Loki snorted and shook his head as he made his way down the corridor that led to his temporary quarters. Sure, why not? Why would Thor go anywhere else in this situation? It wasn't like there seven other realms that would be willing to take in the refugees of Asgard. Because, contrary to what Thor seemed to think, the Nine Realms not being under the iron thumb of Asgard was not the same things as the realms 'completely in chaos'. There were some skirmishes, as there can be during a shift in power, and they were violent at times, but they'd died out long before Thor came charging back in. Asgard had maintained allies under Loki's rule. He'd even like to say those alliances were stronger now that the other realms had been allowed to flourish on their own.

In fact, he felt compelled to point out that the rampant death and ultimate destruction of the kingdom only happened when Thor came back from his five-year sabbatical. Honestly, which one of them was supposed to be the problem son?

Loki rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. He'd have to dissuade Thor of going to Earth, and soon. Not only would it set a poor precedent for Midgard/Asgardian relations if the new king brought Earth's former attempted conqueror to the planet and then asked for asylum, but it would make the planet for too appealing a target for Thanos if they brought another infinity stone to Earth. The Mind Stone and the Time Stone had already drawn Thanos' eye, adding the Tesseract to that equation was going to bring the Mad Titan running like a dog to a meaty bone. Loki was not going to place himself in the center of that bullseye, thank you very much.

Speaking of… He stepped into his chambers and let his gaze go distant. The Tesseract was tucked safely away in his interdimensional pocket, along with a handful of other choice objects from the vault. It was still wrapped in a cocoon of his magic, which he was certain – fairly so – would mask its energy from roaming eyes.

Was it impulsive to take it from the vault? Yes. Unwise? Possibly. He still didn't regret the decision.

But he did place an additional level of wards around the cube. Just to be safe.

He let his mind slip back to himself, and immediately caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. Maybe that talk with Thor could wait until after he washed the battle grime away. Hela's army may not have bled, but they still left behind dust in unfortunate places. He grimaced at the new awareness of just how disgusting he felt and moved briskly to the adjoining lavatory.

There were many unsavory things to say about the Grandmaster, but the man knew how to do luxury. The ship had hundreds of rooms, each with its own lavatory which included indoor plumbing – and many of them had baths big enough to hold ten-twenty people (best not to think too hard about why) –, and was stocked to the brim with a colorful array of alcohol, and a few other choice substances; and they needed to move those out of the rooms with small children in them, now that he thought of it.

Nearly everyone else one the ship shared their room with twenty other occupants but being the crown prince had its advantages. He flicked on the water to his bath and shook his head in bemusement, as he always did when that thought struck him. It was odd, bizarre. In a time of extreme uncertainty, like the planet being blown up, people needed some sense of stability back. Having an heir to the throne, a certainty that Asgard would continue on, was the most basic way to do that. Since Thor had no queen, and an illegitimate child wouldn't provide the necessary security the people needed – plus they didn't have ten months to spare – Loki was promoted.

It was…nice. People respected him, and not just him-as-Odin, but him. For the first time in longer than he could remember, the people of Asgard didn't snicker behind his back.

It wouldn't last, of course. Surely it wouldn't be too difficult for Thor to find someone to impregnate, once things settled down. Maybe he'd try to rekindle things with the Foster woman. Or, if he ever thought to inquire after Sif, they could finally grant Odin's fondest wish and give Asgard a warrior Queen. Assuming she'd stayed where Loki where sent her after she started making a fuss about Heimdall's treatment. It wasn't banishment, per say, so there was a reasonable chance she'd stayed put. (But he'd thought that with Father, too). Whatever the outcome, as soon as Thor found his bride, arranged the universe's fastest marriage, had an even faster conception, and produced his first born, Loki would be thrown back to the shadows. But for now, it was nice.

He sighed, suddenly more saddened than amused and sat down to watch the water. The bath wasn't unlike a very golden bowl. The edges leaned into a shallow pool, large enough to fit half the ship's population. At the pools center was a golden spire that sent out thin umbrellas of multicolored water. With all the gold on this ship, it almost felt like they never left Asgard. He swallowed hard at that thought and flicked off the water before it was waist high.

His armor fell away and the pieces rearranged themselves into storage. He slid into the water and scrubbed the dust and grime off his knuckles and arms while his mind sifted through the ways to steer Thor away from Earth.

Talking him into thinking it was his own idea had worked remarkably well in the past. Loki could just talk him in a few circles, and lo and behold, Earth is off the table. He ducked his head into the water and worked the knots out of his hair. But then again, Thor seemed to be growing remarkably astute as of late. He might see some of Loki's older tricks coming, and then he'd get his pants in a horrible twist about it, like he always did. Maybe a more straightforward approach this time. He snorted, then sat up to avoid the water flooding up his nose. Right, because Thor was so responsive to Loki's input throughout their lives.

He shook his head, then splashed a handful of water on his face and stepped out of the bath. Well. He'd think of something. He always did.

Loki pulled on a simple tunic and trouser combo, then frowned when he checked his reflection again. He picked at a strand of his hair, which was now past his shoulder and curled in that ridiculous way that it did when he let it grow too long. He hadn't been paying much attention to it as of late. Over the years of wearing Odin's guise, he'd hardly seen his own face. During his time on Sakaar, there were other things on his mind. Getting the Grandmaster's attention but staying out of the arena. Plotting the creep's overthrow and ultimately gruesome death without letting the Grandmaster see those plans. Ensuring the psychotic bastard that of course he wouldn't be repulsed if they slept together, but with a blatant hint that he wasn't comfortable with it until they knew each other better.

Now that he thought about it, he was sure the Grandmaster preferred his hair longer, more feminine.

Yeah, it was definitely time for a haircut.

He'd just swept the last of the cut strands to the garbage and was considering taking another inch off as the current length was a little too similar to his first time on Earth, when he heard his door slide open. Since there was one person in the nine realms who would barge into his quarters – even Mother and Father knocked – he responded with an immediate annoyed yell,

"Thor, just because you're finally king does not mean I'll allow you to come into chambers whenever you wish!" He stalked back to the main room, but he couldn't help the small smile. Some things never changed. "And I swear, if you came here to force that hug on me, king or not, I will—" He stopped, and froze. There wasn't anyone in his line of sight, but he felt the presence behind him, and it wasn't Thor.

Loki forced his shoulders to relax, then nonchalantly glanced over his shoulder. "Beg pardon. You were, obviously, not the sibling I was expecting."

Hela met his glance with a level smile. "Yes, well. I can imagine seeing someone you had impaled is a bit of a shock."

"Not lately it isn't." He muttered. He moved to the other side of the room, keeping Hela in the corner of his eye, and brought out two glasses from beneath the vanity. "If you're expecting an apology, don't hold your breath. Although, I will point of that its was Thor's plan that led to the whole, impalement bit. Only my, our, brother could come up with a plan as idiotic as saving a planet by blowing it up." Was that a flicker of discomfort he saw there? Pain, maybe? Interesting.

Loki filed the information away and poured a splash of purple liquid that smelled vaguely of peaches into each glass, then offered one to Hela with a flourish. "Drink?"

Hela grinned, and closed the distance between them. "Gladly. It's been a few millennia since I had a good drink." She took a sip, keeping her eyes on his over the glass. "You're being remarkably calm about this situation."

"Unlike some morons, I know not to start a fight I can't hope to win. Talking myself out of tight spots has always been more of my forte. Besides, if you wanted to kill me, you would have by now." He took a drink out of his own glass. "I knew a man who this strategy worked very well for, so why not try it myself?"

Loki flashed a grin and took a larger drink, forcibly focusing on keeping his hand from shaking. It was fine, just the Goddess of Death, the woman who'd taken out entire armies single-handedly, in his chambers. He'd dealt with worse, and seen it come out, mostly, in his favor. Just stay calm.

Hela didn't do anything in response except smile serenely, and somehow sinisterly. Loki swallowed thickly, and edged away from the woman, under the guise of refilling his glass.

"So, I'll admit I'm curious: how are you here? I would have though that incident with Surtur would have left a more permanent impression."

"You can't kill death, now can you?" She said evenly. Loki sent his mind to the artifacts in his pocket, suddenly eager to check for the most powerful weapons at his disposal. "Surtur did destroy my body. But, more than anything, the destruction of my body spread my self to all corners of the universe. To every piece of the universe, in every universe. I have seen the beginning of time, and the end of all things. I have become what I was always meant to be and have always have been: Death, itself."

The Tesseract would give her a good kick, but he preferred to keep its power concealed, lest he draw the worse things in the universe. Maybe the Casket, then. If Loki could freeze her long enough, he could fetch help. They hadn't tried the great Green Beast against her yet, maybe that would do the trick.

"Well now isn't that just…wonderful." He muttered. He cleared his throat and spoke louder, "Truly, fascinating. It must have been amazing to see so much. Now, tell me—"

"You're trying to stall until Heimdall looks our way." Hela spoke without accusation, but Loki still felt like she'd struck him in the gut. No one had ever been able to guess his plans that clearly. Had she read his mind? She couldn't have, he guarded his mind fiercely, he would have noticed that intrusion. And surely, he wasn't getting so sloppy that anyone could just look and see his schemes. "I'll remind you that I was on Asgard long before Heimdall found his sight. I figured out how to avoid him long before you were even born."

Loki schooled his face away from gaping in open terror and turned away to wet his lip. Even though he knew a clear head was critical right now, he tipped his head back to drain the last of his second drink. He turned back to Hela and flashed a tense smile.

"Right then." He hurled the glass in Hela's direction, flicked a dagger into his opposite hand, and charged.

Hela's blade stopped his halfway through its path toward her throat. He summoned his second dagger as Hela swung another sword at his head. They stayed frozen in that position for a long moment. Hela cocked her head to the side and quirked an eyebrow.

"What happened to not starting hopeless battles?"

Loki shrugged and grimaced. "I figure if we make enough noise, we'll get Heimdall's attention the old fashion way. Not the most eloquent plan, but it will do in a pinch."

He broke free of their impasse and swiped at her throat. Hela ducked back and slashed at Loki's abdomen. They danced around the room, trading precise strikes and effortless evasions. Their styles of battle were nearly identical, and though Hela was by far more powerful than he was, neither one of them had sustained any injuries. They drew apart and circled one another, both breathing heavily. Hela studied him with a quizzical expression, while Loki wondered where in the hell anyone on this ship was.

"Why are we doing this? I could have killed you by now if I really wanted to, you said so yourself. There's no need to fight; I don't want to hurt you. I just want to talk."

"As someone who's greatest weapon is words, I don't believe you."

He lunged forward, hoping to knock her back into the mirror, because maybe that would be enough to tip someone of the danger. Hela slammed her forearm into his throat and forced him against the wall. He waited for the feel of a knife in his chest and looked in confusion when the blade was buried in the wall over his shoulder, pinning him by the fabric of his shirt.

Hela stared at him, her irises flickering over every aspect of his face. It was gesture he recognized well; he did it all the time. Analyzing, looking for an opening. "What if I told you I have a way to keep you safe from Thanos?"

A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. A cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck. He didn't often allow himself to think of Thanos in the realistic sense. He'd escaped, and Loki had felt safe under the assumption of his death, under the guise of Odin. He'd even felt safe in the dungeons, before all hell broke loose. Now the sense of vulnerability came back in full force. They'd be looking for him.

No barren moon no crevice where he cannot find you…

"I would be intrigued," he said after a minute.

"Well then you're in luck. And all I ask is that you lend me your ear for a short time."

Loki eyed her. "Tell me this plan to keep the Titan away, first."

She did. He swallowed, took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He thought hard in her words. Saying it would keep him safe from Thanos was a stretch… but it did ensure that the Titan would never kill him. He studied Hela's face, scrutinizing every detail for a hint of deception.

"And all I have to do for this great gift is—"

"Listen to what I have to say. With as much of an open mind if you can. How does that sound?"

"Too good to be true," he deadpanned.

"Well, you haven't heard what I have to say yet. Will you listen?"

He watched her face and observed snippets of emotion fly through her expression. Hope, fear, pain. She had a decent mask over her emotions, one of a mixture of constant amusement and arrogance, but not good enough. If she was off balance enough to let those sentiments slip through, then this situation wasn't hopeless.

"All right, I'll listen."

Hela nodded, then pulled the knife out of the wall. The blade flicked out of existence, and she made herself comfortable on his bed – again, large enough for over a dozen people.

"This little tiff knocked my drink over. How about another?"