Chapter Text
Peter was flying.
He was flying high! Damn, he could see the whole Narnia from up there. There were unicorns just below him and–
Wait.
Was that Mr. Tumnus?
It was Mr. Tumnus! Pete needed to get closer, he had some important warnings to give him, but the moment he looked at the faun he immediately knew that something was wrong.
His scarf was glowing. Blinking at him.
On. Off.
On. Off.
What the hell?
The world was shaking.
“Quill, wake up!”
His cheek stung. He gasped and blinked a few times to orient himself.
The lights were blinking red, machinery was groaning and he was lying on the cockpit's floor. Rocket was hitting the controls like crazy, Groot stood behind him, Drax on his left, Gamora stared through the viewport and Mantis was crouching next to him and shaking his shoulders.
“Argh! I’m awake!” He shouted and sat up a little too quickly judging by how the cabin trembled in front of his eyes.
“Fucking fantastic!” Rocket quipped at him, “Do something!”
“Huh? What's happening?”
“We’re on Terra, you smartass!”
“Well, that's good. Why are you panicking?”
Drax turned to him, “This pathetic species is not as pathetic as we thought.”
“What?”
Rocket jumped on Groot's shoulder, “They're hailing us!”
“Well, respond to them, then!”
He facepalmed, “Hooow?”
Peter blinked, “What do you mean how?”
Gamora grabbed him by the elbow and pushed him towards the panel, “We don't speak Terran.”
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
“Me neither!”
They looked at him as if he’d suddenly grown a second head. Then–
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
“I thought you were born here.”
“But you must.”
“I am Groot.”
“Oh great we’re all dead–”
Quill groaned, “No, wait, maybe… maybe I’ll remember something.”
It’s been almost thirty years since he’s last been here. When Yondu kidnapped him he was, what, seven, eight? It was easy for him to learn the Ravagers' cant, Kree, Contraxian and even Nova Basic. Wherever he went those languages were enough to get by. He knew some words and phrases from local dialects, thanks to which he was generally liked in more closed off systems. Overally, he was communicative. But Earth? Fuck, Earth had like hundreds? Or maybe thousands of languages. And the only one he’s ever learned was English. English, which he didn't have to use in almost thirty years. The only reason he was more or less familiar with its sound was because of his mom’s track record. But even if he could recognise the words, it didn't mean he could pronounce them correctly and catch their meanings, which were becoming harder to remember with each passing year.
Besides, what were the chances the people they came in contact with spoke the only Earth language he was sort of familiar with? Very fucking slight, that's what they were.
He walked up to the viewport–
Since when could Earth’s ships leave the atmosphere?
–and stopped in front of the controls. He glanced down and pushed a button.
*Unknown vessel, identify yourself.*
Peter's eyes widened comically. English. They spoke English. What the fuck? Well, luck was on their side. But still, it didn't help much as Peter understood only the gist and had no active memory of actually speaking it.
Shit.
*Unknown vessel, identify yourself. We will open fire. I repeat, we will open fire.*
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Ehhh–” he tried, “We–”
Static on the line.
Okay it did something as no one tried to shoot them. Yet.
*Unknown vessel?*
Quill sighed and tried again, “Me– I– no– we–” fuck, “We. Here. Peace.”
He cringed. It was pathetic.
Please, please, please. Please, let it do the trick.
*Follow the escort.*
Peter gasped and collapsed in the pilot’s chair.
“What now?” Mantis prompted.
“We follow the escort.”
“What escort?”
“How should I know–”
As if on command a red-gold humanoid robot flew up to the viewport, knocked at the glass and waved at them to go after it.
Huh, weird, but well, alright.
Peter grabbed the controls, flying the ship through the atmospheric field. The robot was on the radar and led them to a bigger flying object, which looked very similar to an aircraft carrier, except it was flying.
Earth really had changed since the last time he's been here.
They landed without a hitch.
“Alright,” he turned around, “guys. We need a theme song for this moment–”
They groaned.
“--and then we surrender.”
“Drax never surrenders!”
Gamora exhaled, “Well, in this case you might need to. We're not their enemies, it needs to be made clear.”
“Why would they think we’re enemies?”
“Well, why wouldn't they? Our mugs are oh so lovable after all.”
“You're hideous.”
“I am Groot.”
“No, Groot, I am very handsome. Mantis is the physically disgusting one.”
Quill groaned, “Guys, please, can you stop?” He stood up and raised his hands above his head, “Do what I’m doing and no suspicious movements.”
Rocket settled on Groot’s shoulder, “Define suspicious.” But he did mimic Peter's pose.
They walked slowly to the exit, Quill pressed a button on his belt and music roared from the speakers–
…There's a starman waitin' in the sky
He'd like to come and meet us
But he thinks he'd blow our minds…
–Gamora opened the ramp, they watched as it lowered–
…There's a starman waitin' in the sky
He's told us not to blow it
'Cause he knows it's all worthwhile…
–and then stepped out.
…He told me
“Let the children lose it
Let the children use it
Let all the children boogie”...
Guns were trailed on them immediately.
“Whoa!” Quill exclaimed and turned off the music, “guys don't–” he groaned
Ugh, English.
“I. English. Bad.” He grinned like an idiot and extended two fingers in, what he remembered to be the sign for peace, “Huh? Peace! We good?”
Something slammed into the ground behind him.
“Whoa!” He jumped and pivoted only to see the robot from before slowly standing up from a crouch. His eyes swiveled over his crew and–
Shit.
Gamora was in a fighting stance, Drax took out his daggers, Mantis’s antennae were glowing, Rocket loaded a gun and Groot extended his arms. All of them were standing in a circle, successfully surrounding the robot.
“Guys stop.” Peter hissed.
“I ain't gonna wait for it to kill us.”
The robot finally stood up to loom over Peter and… lifted up the… mask?
“Huh. You look human.” The man inside spoke.
Peter gaped.
“And here I thought we’d get tentacles, but no,” he turned to the rest of them, “We've got a tree, a raccoon, a firefly and a third of a rainbow! And an entrance with Bowie, damn, you're a man of my own heart!”
“Stark.” Another man emerged from the crowd. He wore a leather trench coat and an eye patch, clearly aura farming, “Get away from the aliens.”
“Oh boo hoo.” but he did move away to stand next to the one eyed man who ordered the small army to lay down their weapons.
Okay, so he was the one in charge.
Peter decided to focus on him, “Me,” he patted his chest, “Peter Quill,” then he pointed to his team and listed their names one by one, “We. Peace.” He repeated so the message was clear.
“Yeah, yeah.” The metal man sighed, “You come in peace. You're good, we get that. Peter's an Earth's name, though. You’re from the neighborhood?”
Quill noded.
“Where?”
“Missouri.”
“Damn, a country boy! You're not good with language, though?”
He shook his head.
“But you get what we're saying?”
Quill grimaced and made a so-so motion with one hand.
“Enough,” eye patch stopped their exchange, “now that we’ve established that, why won't you come inside so we can discuss the reasons for your visit.”
Right, shit. Paperwork.
“Peter, what's happening?” Gamora asked from behind him.
“It's good guys, they want to know why we’re here.”
“Ah, yes Quill, explain yourself to them, because it certainly wasn't our decision.”
“Is there a problem?”
“No! No problem!”
He glared at Rocket who groaned.
“Fine.”
They were led inside to a room with a long metal table and matching chairs. The man with an eye patch pointed them to sit down, Quill acquiesced, but the rest stayed standing.
Trench coat lifted an eyebrow at them.
“Guys,” Peter hissed, “sit down.”
“Why?”
“He asked us to.”
“He’s not my boss.”
“Rocket, damnit.”
“Rocket is right.” Drax wasn't helping, “Why should we listen to them?”
“Well, they have more guns than us.”
“Our guns are bigger, though.”
“Boys, stop measuring your cocks.”
Gamora sat down and the rest finally followed.
“Ah, I see. So she's the real boss here.” The robot man came up to her and extended his hand, “Anthony Edward Stark, pleasure to meet you.”
Gamora stared at the appendage unsure what to do with it until Peter elbowed her, “You’re supposed to shake it.”
She frowned but eventually grabbed the wrist and shook it left and right instead of up and down.
Quill sighed in resignation.
“Wow, what a grip! I felt it through the–”
“Shut up Tony.”
Peter turned sharply to see another woman in the room with them. Short, lithe redhead with cold eyes, dressed in some kind of action suit. They had no idea she was there before she spoke up, well maybe Gamora knew, because Gamora always seemed to know this type of shit but Quill tensed. Something told him that woman was dangerous.
“Alright,” Eye patch brought their attention back to himself, “So as we already know your names and Stark graciously introduced himself I will share some basic facts with you. Put your hand up if you need me to speak slower.”
Peter nodded.
“The woman behind you is called Natasha Romanova, code name, Black Widow. My name is Nicholas Fury and I am a director of SHIELD, which is a shortened form of The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. We are–”
Pete raised a hand and shook his head.
“Yes?”
“Too much.”
The man frowned, “You… don't understand?”
He nodded.
“Quill, what's happening?” Gamora whispered from his side.
“I don't know. Honestly, I understood like… ten words? Including their names.”
Fury sighed and with a resigned expression addressed the one who introduced himself as Anthony Edward Stark, “Get Loki.”
The man blanched visibly, “You're not serious.”
“I am. Believe me, I don't like this either. But if we're to establish a conversation we need a reliable translator.”
He scoffed, "Reliable, Loki? Please. Besides, what are the chances that ole Reindeer Games knows their language.”
“Well, he definitely knows more extraterrestrial languages than us and they probably speak more than one language as they obviously hail from different species, so I expect they will find a common tongue much sooner than any of us.”
The metal man cursed, pulled down his mask and in a distorted voice said, “FRIDAY, give Loki our location and tell him to get his royal ass in here.”
He lifted the mask again and waited. Nothing happened for a few seconds but then there was a loud thud as a man landed on the table in an explosion of green glitter. He was dressed in a weird mix of clothes Peter remembered being fashionable back in the 80’, his black hair tied loosely in a half bun, but he couldn't see his face as he stood with his back to them.
“Well! And here I thought you would deal with the next batch of aliens on your own! How sorely was I mistaken to put so much faith in–” his voice died in his throat as he finally turned around and noticed Gamora. He froze in mid motion.
“It's you.” She choked up and Peter–
Peter had never seen her so rattled.
“It’s you.” She repeated in a cold voice, body slack and obviously in shock.
The man jumped from the table immediately and without any kind of warning pulled her up to lock her in a tight embrace.
“You’re out.” His voice was raspy when she hugged him back.
“Yes, I–” she frowned and pushed him back enough to look him in the eye, "You're alive. I thought you were dead.”
And he– he snickered, “Yes, well, you wouldn't be the first.” He then placed his palms on both sides of her jaw and gently traced a line under her eyes with his thumbs. Gamora mimicked his gesture and slowly connected their foreheads together.
Peter’s eyes widened comically because it was something he once saw Gamora try to do with Nebula only for the other woman to push her back with an angry shout of you’re not my sister!
But this wasn't Nebula. This was a guy. A guy with whom Quill’s girlfriend was strangely affectionate.
Oh, hell naw.
He came up to them and interrupted their moment, “Okay, I see you obviously know each other. Great." Brought his hands together and disconnected them in a gesture of make space. They separated so he zeroed in on the man, “Who are you?”
His face danced with amusement as he pulled out a green card with two interconnected arrows.
Peter blinked at it in confusion but wasn't given a chance to ask as the robot man burst out with laughter, “UNO reverse?” He guffawed, “Where did you learn that?”
“Peter taught me.”
“I just met you, man!”
“Different Peter.”
“Enough!” Fury slammed his hands on the table and turned to the black haired man, “You are here to translate. Translate.”
“Translate what?” His eyes wandered between them, realisation slowly dawning on his features, “Ahhh, right. Alright, I think it would be easier if I just–” he raised his hands up, green sparkles dancing on the tips of his fingers and something shifted in Peter’s throat.
“Oh, what the fuck.” Rocket coughed.
“Hey! That raccoon is talking!”
“Not a fucking raccoon, you tin can!”
Drax pointed at the armored man, “I understood you!”
“Loki. What did you do?” the redheaded woman finally spoke up.
He frowned, “I translated.”
“How?”
“The same way I am translating myself.”
“Which is?”
“The AllSpeak.”
Rocket snorted, “Right, you’re using the AllSpeak. And the next thing you’re gonna say is that you’re Asgardian.”
“Well, I am.”
“I am Groot?”
“Yes! A damn myth, is what it is!” Rocket jumped from his chair to the table to be closer to the self acclaimed Asgardian who was leaning on the table, and poked him in the thigh, “Asgard is history long buried! It's a– a children's tale. Of magic and fairies and rainbow bridges and dragons and some super powered nearly immortal species! It ain't real!”
“It is. Except the dragons."
Rocket tugged at his own fur and laughed maniacally, “Right. But there are fairies.”
“Sometimes. They like to visit.”
He guffawed harder, “Yeah, and the next thing to come out your mouth is going to be that there really existed a guy named Odin who separated the universe in half and performed a mass genocide on one part of it.”
“‘a guy named Odin’” the one they referred to as Loki repeated, “is still around to the best of my knowledge.”
“Odin was not a guy.” Drax deadpanned, “The stories say he was a great warrior. A slaughterer of thousands, the bane of free civilizations. He crushed the enemies of the Realm Eternal under his boot and built his castles on the corpses of the fallen.”
There was a low whistle from Anthony, “Damn, and here we wondered where you got your genocidal tendencies from.”
The supposed Asgardian sagged visibly and exhaled in exasperation, “Odin… mellowed in his old age.”
“No.” Rocket scoffed, “No way this is real. Magic is not real.”
“Then how come you're suddenly communicating with no issues?”
“Argh!” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “Mantis, tell us if he’s lying.”
She stood up and moved to grab Loki’s hand but he disappeared only to appear again on the other side of the table.
“I am Groot?”
“Magic.” He deadpanned and turned to Mantis, “Sorry, but I don't mix well with empaths.”
“Who even are you?”
“Right. Let's do it properly.” He sighed, straightened up and moved around the table to stand in front of them once again, “I am Loki Silvertounge. Second Prince of Asgard, rightful King of Jotunheim and the land of Utgärd, third in line to the throne of Vanaheim, seventh to Alfheim, King Father to Helheim, bespoken by the Vōlur. God of lies, trickery, mischief, fire and chaos. Patron of the lost, the banished, the persecuted and the oppressed, artisans and blacksmiths.” He smiled something ugly, “Scapegoat archetype.”
Quill blanched, “No. No, fuck, I met one god already and it was shit.”
Loki tilted his head, curious, “Who was it?”
“Ego.” Mantis answered for him.
“Ego?” the god scoffed, “Oh, he was no god. I remember him. He once showed up on our doorstep and propositioned my mother. She had him decapitated.”
Quill’s eyes widened, “Your mother?”
“Queen of Asgard.”
Rocket facepalmed, “So, you’re a prince of Asgard. Son of Odin the warmonger.”
Loki rolled his eyes, “I literally introduced myself seconds ago.”
Drax straightened, “We should kneel. If he's telling the truth then he's obviously a superior lifeform and I do not want to offend him.”
“If, Drax, key word, if he’s telling the truth.”
Fury interrupted them, “No one will be kneeling to him.”
“But he’s Asgardian–” Peter hissed.
Rocket butted in, “Supposedly.”
“-If the universe had one sacred thing it would be the Nine Realms. With Asgard on top. It's like– they’re like,” Quill groaned, “They’re the Star Wars of pop culture.”
Stark frowned, “What?”
“The progenitors of the known universe.” Gamora finally spoke up in a strained voice and Peter zeroed in on her.
“Gamora, you know him, right?”
“Yes.”
“So? Is he telling the truth?"
She sighed, “He is Asgardian.”
Rocket grabbed her forearm and shook it, “And how do you know him?”
“I–” Gamora looked up at the supposed god whose eyes shone brighter for a second, “It’s not my story to tell.”
Rocket facepalmed, “Oh, fantastic.”
“It is suspicious.” Drax added, “I have heard the tales of great expansion told many times and there has never been a Loki in them.”
Loki sighed, “I have been born after the Era of Conquest, however, if you're familiar with Xandarian legends, you might have heard of me under the name of Sirius.”
Silence. Then–
“Oh, no way.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Those legends are thousands of years old.”
Even Quill piped in, “Sirius was a fucking dog.”
“Alright,” Fury slapped the table, “I can see there is some discrepancy between–”
“No.” Stark interrupted him, “I wanna know about those Xandarian legends.”
“Stark.” Fury hissed.
“No, no, no, no. It seems kinda important, since you know. We have Norse myths, they have some other myths, and both are connected somehow. There’s something to it.”
Fury huffed, leaned back and gestured at Quill to go on.
“Um, I don't actually know them in detail. Drax?”
“What?”
“Do you know the Xandarian legends?”
“No.”
“But you–” he sighed, “ugh, nevermind. Gamora?”
She shook her head. “I know the same as everyone else, I suppose. The first Xandarians were led to settle on Xandar by a dog named Sirius. If you want to know more you’d have to ask a historian.”
“I know the Xandarian legends.” Mantis piped up suddenly.
Quill frowned “Really?”
“Yes. Ego spoke much about history.”
“Well, enlighten us then.” Rocket drawled.
She nodded eagerly, “The Xandarian legends speak about the first settlers. The five hundred year war, which took place between the Nine Realms shook the universe. Many planets outside of the Nine were destroyed by an energy wave which rolled through the systems. The people were scattered across various moons and asteroids, slowly dying of thirst and starvation when Sirius walked out of the void. Nobody knows where it came from or how it travelled, but it opened a pathway shining with all the colours of the known universe, through which the people walked to a fertile planet that later became Xandar. They even named a constellation to commemorate it! I think one star is visible from here.”
“And you,” Stark frowned at Loki who was looking at the floor, “were that dog.”
He nodded.
“How?”
Loki sighed and finally looked up at the man, “I am a shape shifter Anthony, believe me, turning into a dog was rather easy.”
"You're a what?"
Rocket laughed hysterically, “This story is thousands of years old. There's no way you're that old.”
“You’re familiar with the Kree concept of space-time travel, correct?”
“What's that got to do with–” Rocket’s eyes widened, “ohhh, the linearity is subjective.”
“Exactly.”
Rocket plopped down on the table, “But if it's real. If you’re really– Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you help them back then? Were you playing at something bigger? 'Cause, you know, if what you're saying is true then - people like you usually are.”
Loki shrugged and started pacing, "Not really. It was more of a moral hangover, if anything." he stopped and sighed, “The energy wave was my doing.”
Peter flinched, “It took out six planets.”
“Supposedly.” Rocket murmured
“Seven, actually.” Loki sat down on the table and crossed his arms, “You have to understand, I was–” he stood up and started pacing again, “I was young. The war was going on for far too long, I thought I could end it.” He sneered, “And I did end it.”
“There are forces in the universe older than Asgard and The Nine Realms. Old magic, hungry, dangerous, insatiable. It comes with a price. It always comes with a price.” He shook his head, haunted, “Odin gave up his eye for it, he hung himself for it and I thought–” he grimaced and ran a hand through his hair, “I thought I could outsmart it. Like an idiot. So, instead of taking from me, it took those planets. I simply gathered what was left.” He laughed a little hysterically, “And I mean. I knew it would bite me in the ass eventually.” He locked eyes with Gamora, “And eventually it did.”
She flinched, “It explains why Thanos wanted you so badly.”
And finally, Quill connected the dots, “Wait. That's the guy you tortured?!”
“I’m sorry, what?” Stark asked.
Loki turned to Gamora, “You told him.” It wasn't a question.
She grimaced, “I thought you were dead. The others don't know anything.”
“Good, because–”
“What is it that we don't know?”
“I am Groot!”
“Exactly!”
“-this is a conversation for when we’re all blessedly drunk and won't remember anything after waking up.”
Fury was looking at Gamora perplexed, “You mentioned someone named Thanos–”
Loki interrupted him, “And this conversation needs a change of scenery.”
He snapped his fingers and the world disappeared.