~Loki’s Chambers~

Thor gaped, eyeing his not dead brother from the tip of his bare toes to the top of his raven head, up and down, a good ten times.  He had the urge to rub his eyes and knock his head to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, despite his mother having acknowledged her younger son’s presence as well.  He couldn’t help the tears or the crooked grin pulling at one corner of his mouth.  Loki, on the other hand, was giving him the very definition of a “look that could kill”, and yet all Thor wanted to do was wrap him in a bone crushing hug.  He blinked, looking sideways and shaking his head.

I am seriously disturbed.

Sure, Thor was a little scared, standing there in Loki’s tastefully decorated and ridiculously good-smelling chambers.  After all, his sibling hadn’t moved an inch beyond his initial rise to a seated position on his bed, and as it turned out, that was creepier than having a knife thrown at his head.  More than anything though, Thor was just thankful to see Loki alive, upright, and giving him the death glare he damn well deserved while he stared back, wide-eyed and extremely confused.  Mind racing with questions faster than Loki’s speed demon of a horse, unable to separate one thought from the next, Thor could only stand there silently, mouth hanging open.  He reminded himself to absolutely not cross the distance between them and hug his brother.

Nostrils flared and chest heaving, Loki pressed his lips together since the bottom one was about to wobble with unacceptable sentiment the longer his pathetic excuse of a brother stared at him like that.  He absolutely refused to let his not sibling weaken his resolve to loathe the man for eternity.  How dare Thor have the gall to stand there looking guilt-ridden and contrite and humble, like some lost wolf pup that only the most heartless of souls would do anything other than forgive him right then and there despite the vast misery and death he’d inflicted upon Asgard.  

Gylfi’s regimentー every last godsdamn Hawkーand more than half the entire army was gone.  Dead.  All thanks to a few devastating blows to the bifrost from that monstrous hammer.  To think, none of this would have happened if that dolt hadn’t pissed off Laufey with that arrogant, entitled stunt in Jotunheim.  Every drop of blood from those broken familiesーthe corpses of sons and daughters, of mothers and fathers burned without proper funerals because there were just too many of themーwas on the big calloused hands of the man standing across from him.  Fen was dead, Eir was cutting into Sig precisely right now, and (as though that wasn’t enough) there was likely a bona fide insane Titan searching for him at this exact moment with every intention of sending him to Hel, but not before brutally torturing him again to the point of begging for death.  All of that and more, thanks to the mighty Thor.

Seiðr glowing of its own accord around his fingers, Loki took a deep shuddering breath and spoke through his teeth, voice trembling with barely contained anger. “How…. how could you?”

It was only a whisper, but at least it wasn’t the small, high-pitched, croaking voice of the broken man Loki felt like in that moment.  His intention had been to tell the man standing not ten feet from him, who’d nearly annihilated everything Loki loved, to just get the Hel out of his room so he could go back to sleep and forget this day had ever happened.  But no, he just had to go and open the door for an actual conversation with this person.  

“I have no excuse, Loki,” Thor said quietly, feeling positively wretched.  Eyes stinging with salty tears, he reached up to rub them with his palms.

He expected a sneering jab in response, but Loki just stared silently at him, and somehow that was so much worse.  Thor sniffed, aqua eyes now red and swollen.  He then glared through his periphery at his mother.  Hands clasped together and covering her chest, she seemed frozen in place looking back and forth at them.  He wanted her to leave.  His words were for Loki’s ears only.  He didn’t need his mother there to protect him, which he suspected was the reason for her continued presence.  As though she’d read his mind, she raised an eyebrow at him, seemingly poised to say something, but Loki’s gravelly baritone cut her off.

“Leave us, Mother,” he said, emotion clawing at his chest that had no business invading his person.  He ought to feel only boiling hot rage.  Yet here he was, heart teeming with this awful deep sense of something lost—something that he could have back—and that thing was standing right in front of him.  

Hands on her hips, looking at Loki like he’d grown two heads, Frigga scoffed. “I most certainly will not leave you to do Odin only knows what to your brother!”

Emerald eyes blowing wide, Loki pointed to his own chest. “What I’ll do-” he paused and pointed to Thor “-to him?”

Shaking his head, Loki leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. “I endured three months of savage torture in a place far worse than Muspelheim and Helheim combined thanks to his actions, and yet you intend to stay here against my wishes to…. what?” Dropping his hands, he looked back up at her, eyes narrowed. “To…. to protect him?  Protect him?  Where was my protection?  Hanging there, body broken and bleeding and exhausted, surrounded by corpses scattered all over what was left of the bifrost after he broke it.  And poor Sig-” his voice cracked “-also broken and bleeding out, doing her damnedest to pull me back up, but failing ultimately because she doesn’t have the strength of the God of Thunder or his godsdamn ability to fly.”  

He pushed to his feet and turned to Thor, hot angry tears blurring his vision.  Voice booming loud enough to shake the furniture, he shouted, “Where was my protection?!”

Swallowing down a sob, Thor forced his feet to stay rooted to his spot on the immaculate hardwood floor rather than take even one step toward his brother, despite his desperation for at least some physical contact.  A simple pat on the back or a shoulder squeeze would be enough to ease his grief, but the green light coiling around Loki’s hands made it clear that even the slightest of touches would be violently unwelcome.

Turning to Frigga, Thor gave her a nod. “It’s alright, Mother.  I can take care of myself,” he assured her, offering a small smile that in no way reached his eyes.

Lips set in a thin line, Frigga frowned. “I’m not so sure about-”

“Oh, he’s plenty skilled at taking care of himself,” Loki snapped, cutting her off.   To his relief, she didn’t press the subject further, though she did stare absolute daggers at him.  Pulling her dressing gown more tightly around her, she nodded to each of them and silently opened the door to leave. “Thank the Norns,” Loki muttered to himself, rolling his eyes.  

Running both hands through his hair, he dropped his head with a heavy sigh.  Now alone with Thor, he finally had the opportunity to yell the thousand vindictive (justified!) words on the tip of his tongue, and yet he couldn’t stand the thought of actually voicing them—of actively choosing to hurt his brother.  He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes slamming shut.

He is NOT my brother—At the sound of Thor padding to the balcony, he raised his head.  

“Loki, I’m so….” Thor croaked, voice breaking, much like his heart had over and over and over during the last three months.

Loki stared at the back of his blond head, not remotely ready to hear what was sure to be a pathetic apology laced with tears and sniffles that would twist his gut and yank painfully on his heart strings.  He hated that he didn’t hate Thor in the slightest.  He wanted to want to rip out the man’s heart.  This was so wrong.

“S-sor-ry,” Thor stuttered, clearing his throat as he turned around to face Loki, the cold breeze whipping his hair into his face. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, brother.  I understand the hate you must feel for me.  I won’t try to justify my actions from that day because there is no justification.  And I’ve been screwing up ever since.”  Unable to stand the cold any longer, he stepped back into the room, eyeing Loki’s hands for any sign of magic.  

Seeing Thor shiver and sniffle pitifully, Loki had the urge to conjure a thick coat for him to ease the chill.  He set his jaw then, angry with his instinct to comfort a man who deserved nothing but discomfort…. right?  Right.  Pulling his hands down his face, he groaned.  Five (Earth) days ago, he’d desired to flat out murder this man, and now, far from killing him, Loki didn’t even want to punch him.  If Thor could just not be so damn earnest for once in his life….

Mumbling “for Hel’s sake” under his breath, Loki raked a hand through his hair.  He turned in a slow circle, eyeing his surroundings, attempting to ground himself in the smell of leather and smoke and books since his thoughts were getting away from him.  Feelings were getting away, more like.

“I swear to everything, Thor,” he said through his teeth, refusing to meet Thor’s eyes as he clung to the last scrap of anger left in his bones because it was the only thing keeping the proper and safe distance between them, “you do not get to come in here, offer a weak apology, wherein you don’t even say what you’re sorry for-” he began counting off on his fingers “-be it the broken bridge, the death toll, the grief, the loss, the pain, the suffering, the disrespect you’ve shown to the throne, the agonyーboth physical and psychologicalー that was my life every damn day of the last three months, and expect me to do anything other than tell you to fuck off and leave me be for the rest of my life.”

Face falling, Thor wiped a hand under his nose and nodded once. “I understand.”

“No, you don’t understand!” Loki shouted, resisting the urge to rip his hair out from the tidal wave of anxiety crashing over him that was screaming he should apologize for being so cruel as to even consider disowning Thor despite his traitorous actions.  Feeling guilty made zero sense; he despised not being able to make sense of things.

Growling at nothing in particular, he stormed off toward his dressing room.  As he passed his desk, he swiped a heavy figurine of a horse from the surface and threw it with such force, it blasted straight through the stone wall separating the rooms.  Crossing the threshold, he glared at the mess of jagged bits of broken bronze horse littering the floor of the spacious walk-in.  Setting a hand on his hip, he then looked up at the hole in the wall.  His father’s voice echoed in his memory.

“I would remind you of YOUR temper and YOUR recklessness, Loki.”

Alright fine, so he did have some anger management problems, but his daddy issues paled in comparison with Thor stupidly invading Jotunheim after the disrupted coronation.  Let’s just be honest here—that had been nothing but a dick measuring contest gone (predictably) wrong.  Granted, his father had stripped Thor of his powers and banished him to Earth, so there was that, but how the Hel did defending Jane earn him back all his powers and his title after all of six days?!  Loki had lost count of the times he’d been banished by Odin over the course of his nine hundred years for far smaller crimes!  He was tempted to scream at himself.

How many times can you ruminate on the same shit over and over again?!

Gritting his teeth, he slammed his fist into the nearest armoire, knocking the heavy four-inch thick solid wood door clean off its hinges.  He pulled his hand away with a hiss, eyeing his now bloody knuckles.  Exhaling slowly, he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, head lolling back.  The air felt too thin, and he had the distinct sensation that the room was spinning around him.  Norns, was he about to hyperventilate?  He might have laughed at the absurdity of his situationーa master sorcerer having a panic attack in his own closet was darkly comedicーif he could somehow manage to get in a decent breath.  At this point, he had two options.

One: he could continue heaving and wheezing in a blind rage of traumatic memories, pass out in the middle of his dressing room (while clutching his pearls, of course), giving Thor the opportunity of a lifetime to run in and white knight him.  Gods, he needed a bucket to throw up into at the mere thought.  Grabbing a shelf for support, he cringed as sweat beaded on his forehead.  Or two: calm the Hel down in two seconds with a little liquid help, not require the use of a fainting couch like a distressed damsel, and save his dignity in the process.

“Two, please,” he whispered, voice shaking as the dangerous magic in his chest bubbled up to the surface, ready to burst from him and destroy the entirety of his chambers altogether.

Tucked away in a locked drawer, behind his basic black leather outerwear and trousers, was one last ender, which he’d told himself was for emergencies only.  Eir had given it to him after that grossly entitled bruised ego bar fight in Jotunheim.  This begged the question: is this an emergency?  Did he really need this to simply talk to his brother?  Wasn’t that a bit dramatic?  Well, he’d never been one to shy away from theatrics.

Pulling the vial from the drawer, he drank the whole thing in one go and slid down the wall, bringing his knees to his chest, dropping his forehead to rest on them.  He felt Thor sit down next to him, and Loki wouldn’t have been bothered by his close proximity, but the combination of the oaf’s body heat and the ender slithering through his veins like molten lava down a mountain was overwhelming.  He put a few inches between them so he could experience just the lava, because as unpleasant as melted rock crawling around under one’s skin sounded, it was a glorious sensationーa sensation that Sig would slap him for experiencing yet again if she knew he’d done it.  She’d slap him, but then thank him because she’d feel it through the bond, and then they’d have mind-blowing sex.  Biting his lip, imagining her hands running all over him, he grinned wryly at the floor.  It would absolutely feel like Valhalla right now.  Gods, why was she so far away?  

“I’ve missed you more than I can say,” Thor sighed.

During the few precious seconds that his mind had wandered into wonderland with a gorgeous Vanir sorceress, Loki had clean forgotten someone was sitting next to him.  In any other scenario, he might have pushed to his feet and conjured a dagger at the sudden voice piercing the silence right behind his shoulder, but as it stood, he was far too relaxed to be spooked by anything other than a bilgsnipe bursting through the wall.  

“I’ve missed you more than I can say,” Loki imitated his brother’s gruff tone, then waved a flippant hand. “You never were good with the words.”

Thor grinned, hopeful.  Non-threatening cheap shots from Loki were a good sign. “Words were your thing.”

“Stupidity was your thing.”

“Just because I don’t have your silvertongue doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

“You are with women.”

Making a face, Thor scoffed. “Err…. what?  I’m incredible with women.”

Loki raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk pulling at his lips. “You are not serious.” Thor fixed him with a glare, crossing his arms. “Oh dear gods,” Loki laughed, running a hand down his face. “You are serious.”

Rolling his eyes, Thor fought the instinct to punch his little brother’s shoulder. “Of course I’m serious.  I do very well with the ladies, and you know it.”

“If it hadn’t been for the prince thing and the long blond thing and all that muscle,” Loki gestured at his head and arms, “you’d still be a virgin, and you know it.”

Mouth twitching, Thor scratched his beard. “Bullshit, that is ridic-”

“Unless you paid for it, of course,” Loki added with a shrug.  After a beat, Thor’s face relaxed into a warm watery smile, which Loki narrowed his eyes at in response. “Why are you smiling?”

“I missed this.”

“Missed being insulted to your face?”

“If it means you are here, alive, and speaking to me instead of stabbing me, yes.”

“You are more of a moron than I previously gave you credit for.”

Thor smiled wide. “Thank you.”

Loki rolled his eyes, suppressing a smile. “You deserve a good stabbing.”

Lowering his eyes, Thor sniffed and raked a hand through his hair. “I agree with you more than you can imagine.”

Still very much enjoying the effects of his liquid friend, Loki studied his brother with half-open eyes, not altogether sure how to respond to that statement.  Was the man serious?  Would Thor just sit there and let him plant a dagger in his side?  Lips pursed, Loki watched Thor run his hand through his hair again.  Bright emerald eyes, pupils pinned despite the dark room, regarded the long blond locks, from root to perfect non-split ends.  Through the haze of intoxication, a laugh rumbled deep in his chest—Oh here’s a penance for you, brother.

Scratching an itch under his adam’s apple, Loki leaned his head back. “Fear not.  I’m not in the mood to knife you.”

Thor looked at him through his periphery, eyes narrowing. “What’s the catch?”

Loki smirked at the ceiling. “Why do you assume there’s a catch?”

“Because history tells me there is always a catch when it comes to you, Loki.”

Loki pushed to his feet, offering a hand to Thor to help him up.  When Thor glared skeptically at his open palm, Loki groaned in exasperation.

“I’m far too high to conjure a blade or snake or whatever you’re thinking,” he said, wiggling his fingers impatiently.

Thor frowned, but took the offered hand, allowing Loki to pull him up. “You’re high?”

“As the stars,” Loki crooned, eyes sliding shut.

Muttering quietly to himself, Thor shook his head. “So that’s why you’re so relaxed and suddenly not stabby with me.  I thought you had some of Volstagg’s hundred proof ale stashed in there or something.”

Loki made a face as he walked to his desk. “I’d rather drink my own piss.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Thor cringed. “Thank you for that visual.”

“You are most welcome,” Loki deadpanned.

“I thought you didn’t do that anymore,” Thor sighed, giving him their mother’s classic ‘I’m not angryーjust disappointed’ look. “You had such a hard time ceasing, and I recall you swearing you’d never use those again.  At least, not if you became very sad for an extended period again.”

Shooting him an icy stare, Loki leaned back against his desk. “Very sad doesn’t even begin to describe the level of Hel I was in, and I don’t give a shit whether or not you approve of my swallowing one tiny ender.”

Dropping his head, Thor closed his eyes, berating himself silently for having said anything.  He knew it was a sensitive subject for his brother, and yet he’d opened his big mouth anyway.  Brilliant, Thor.  Bravo.

Jaw clenched, Loki pushed off the desk. “Bravo, indeed.”

“Could you not read my thoughts without my consent, please,” Thor said, voice tight as he ran a hand down his face. “I hate it when you do that.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Loki said, arching an eyebrow. “Now, rather than discussing my oh so naughty lack of sobriety, I want to make you an offer.”

Uneasy with his brother’s cryptic words, Thor cleared his throat. “And what offer is that?”

Loki cocked his head sideways. “In exchange for my generosity of spirit, wherein I spare you a knife to the gut, which you agree you deserve, you will let me cut off your hair.”

Silence.

Thor gaped at his brother.  Was he serious?  Based off of Loki’s stone cold expression, he guessed he was.  Anxiety pooled in his chest, making his throat run dry.  He protectively grabbed the messy blond bun at the nape of his neck, and finally after what felt like ten minutes of nothing but nervous breathing, wherein one could have heard a pin drop, he finally found his voice.

“All of it?” he asked weakly.

Loki shrugged. “Just a little off the top.”

Chest heaving, Thor shook his head. “You little liar,” he snapped. “You mean to shave my head, and you damn well know it.”

“It’ll grow back…. eventually,” Loki said, arching an eyebrow. “Would you prefer the dagger?  I’m recovered enough to conjure now.” He pulled a pair of scissors out of thin air, testing the inside edges with his finger.  With an exaggerated hiss, he pursed his lips at the thin stripe of blood on the tip of his finger.

“Ow,” he said, rubbing his thumb and hurt finger together.  Shimmering green under the slight friction, the cut healed over. “Honestly, these are as sharp as a knife anyway.  I so love multi-functional tools.” Straight-faced, he looked up from under his brow. “Hair or gut?  Your call.”

Ignoring the question, Thor gazed narrowly at the silver shears shining in the firelight. “You’ve been able to conjure this whole time, haven’t you?  You were never too high, were you?”

Loki smirked. “Obviously.”

“Not obvious.”

“Should have been.”

“Loki, I swear-”

“Swear what?  I fail to see how your gullibility is somehow my fault.”

“I am not-”

“Gullible?  Yes, you are.”

Taking a step forward, hands fisted at his sides, Thor growled, “Let me finish a damn sentence, you little-”

“My gods you are testy.” Loki cocked his head sideways, looking somehow equally bored and amused.

Pressing his lips together, Thor ran a hand down his face.  This was not worth arguing over.  With glassy eyes, he looked longingly at his brother’s raven mane.  It had grown longer and become positively stunning since his fall.  Thor had always seen Loki’s loose waves as having a sort of greasy quality…. but now?  Odin’s ravens, what the Hel was he conditioning it with?ーliquid silk?  The pure envy coiling in his stomach actually made him nauseous.  He’d never realized how incredibly vain he was.  Honestly, this experience would probably serve him well.

With a defeated sigh, he swallowed. “Please leave some of it.”

Half an hour later, Thor pouted (yes, pouted) at his reflection in the huge mirror over the basin in Loki’s washroom.  Turning away, he stomped back into the bedroom, heading straight for the main doors.

“You drew that out far longer than necessary.  I mean, for the love, Loki, you could’ve just waved your hand, and it would’ve been done in a second.” He ran a hand through what was left of his jaggedly shorn locks.  Loki had left a couple inches on top, which unfortunately stuck up in odd angles, but at least he wasn’t bald.  He’d also tapered the sides unevenly (and completely on purpose).

“And miss watching you wince at every snip?  I think not,” Loki said, leaning against the doorframe of his washroom, glaring at his brother’s back. “I do believe a ‘thank you for not killing me’ is in order before you go,” he called out just as Thor grabbed the door handle.

Shivering as a chilly breeze rushed through the open drapes across the balcony and through the chamber, Thor turned and dropped his hand.  Damn, his head was positively freezing now.  He pulled the collar of his outer tunic up to cover his ears as he walked back to Loki.

“Thank you for being merciful,” he said, meaning every word.

Loki looked away, unable to face the sincere aqua eyes trying to claw their way into his heart.  The murderous rage was gone, leaving a gaping wound in its wake that he was not yet ready to address.  The haircut had been an amusing distraction to hurt Thor without hurting him, nothing more.  Now it was over, and all he wanted was to be left alone to sleep until Eir would allow him to see Sigyn in a few hours.

“Get out,” he whispered, jaw clenched.

Thor nodded resolutely, feeling like he’d been kicked right in the solar plexus.  Ouch.  Sniffing back the building tears, he left, quietly closing the door behind him.

---

~The Next Morning~

Groaning miserably as the bright light streaming into his room cruelly forced him out of a deep dreamless sleep, Loki rubbed his eyes with his palms.  By Hel, how long had he been out?  He could have sworn Thor had left only five minutes ago, but clearly that was not the case.  Cracking one eye open, he held up his arm to shield his face.  Of course the sliver of blazing daylight coming through the one crack between the drapes would fall right across his eyes.  He tossed the blanket off angrily, and sitting up with a heavy sigh, a violent shiver passed through him.  Crossing his arms over his chest, he rubbed his arms to warm them up.  It took his dull brain a moment to realize he was cold because he was half naked.  When had he removed his tunic?  Gods, he felt as though he was coming to after a night of heavy drinking.  Running a hand through his hair, he yawned.  Slight amnesia was normal after sleeping off an ender.  Scowling, he shrugged off the nagging sense of weakness for his inability to cope “healthily” with that sibling reunion the night beforeーif that was what one could even call such a thing.  Whatever.

He stretched his arms high above his head, ribs jutting out, and blew out a long breath.  They fell back down like dead weight at his sides as he shuffled to his washroom to relieve himself, somehow still dead tired after what must have been twelve hours of sleep.  Splashing water on his face, he stared at his reflection through a haze of grogginess.  Hands on the basin, he watched the water droplets slide down his cheeks, pool together heavily along his sharp jaw, and fall back into the bowl.  He was surprised that there weren’t any dark circlesーor worseーugly bags under his eyes.  Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he grabbed a towel to wipe his face down.

It was while he was cleaning his teeth that he remembered Sigyn was in a healing room.  Running to his dressing room, hissing “you fucking dull moron” at himself, he grabbed a new pair of pants, hopping awkwardly into them while yanking a new tunic on and buckling his boots via magic.  Closing his eyes, he focused on the bond to find her and teleported himself straight to her room.

“Gods!” she shrieked, practically falling off the edge of the bed where she sat, spoon in hand, leaning over a small tray of food; she might very well have fallen off if Loki hadn’t caught her. “Dammit, Loki,” she gasped, holding her chest with one hand and dropping the spoon into the bowl of plump blackberries, “you scared the fire out of me.”

“Your fire isn’t going anywhere, darling,” he murmured, a dazzling smile splitting his face at the mere sight of her awake.  He curled a hand around the back of her neck and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you awoke,” he whispered against her temple.

“How do you feel?” He leaned back just enough to give her a lookover.

Pulling her bottom lip through her teeth, she grinned. “Divine, actually.”

Loki leaned back further, arching an eyebrow. “Huh…. I would say that was sarcasm if I couldn’t feel the truth in that response.”

With a small smile, she popped a berry into her mouth. “I suppose,” she started, pausing to swallow and clear her throat, “I’d become used to a certain level pain ever since…. the thing…. with Laufey.” Wincing as the name rolled off her tongue, she stared at the floor, wishing she hadn’t said it.  Loki’s true biology was a sore spot, after all.  She peeked up at him; he seemed well enough…. but still.  Awkward.

Running a hand through her sleep-tousled hair, she shrugged. “But now the pain is gone.  Completely.  I’m so….” she trailed off, trying to find the right word, “….relieved.  I feel better than I did before you and I met, even.  Granted I wasn’t in the best headspace at that time, thanks to Freya making my life a living Hel.”

Loki wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side. “Let’s not talk about things of the past for which we can’t change.” And he meant it…. especially for himself.  They both needed to move on (as best as they could) from their pasts.  The present was hard enough.

“Good call,” she whispered, twisting her body to wrap her arms around him.  She groaned then, and he loosened his hold, looking down at her, brow furrowed with concern.

“Did I hurt you?  Are there sutures?  Is there a bandage?  How-”

Sigyn clamped her palm over his mouth, effectively shutting him up. “Loki, stop,” she laughed, pulling her hand away after a beat. “I’m fine.  I just realized I need to use the lavatory.”

“Ah,” he snorted.  Pushing to his feet, he offered her his hand. “Does my lady need assistance?”

“Ugh…. no,” she scoffed, recoiling from his proffered hand. “Over my dead body will I ever allow you to assist me with that.  I’ll manage on my own, thanks.” She pushed her food tray aside, refusing to look at him.

Rolling his eyes, he put a finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I only meant to aid you in walking to the room—nothing more—you silly girl.”

Raising an eyebrow, she sucked in her cheeks. “Don’t you ‘silly girl’ me.  It was a legitimate concern.  Anyway,” she said, waving a hand, trying to shake off the embarrassing image in her head of Loki lowering her onto a toilet to empty her bladder. (Oh gods….horrifying)  She took his hand, rising to her feet. “There are healer aides to help with such things.”

Loki pressed his lips together. “Yes, I’m aware.”

Glaring up at him, she smacked his shoulder weakly. “Stop laughing at me.”

Mouth falling open, his eyes went wide, feigning offense. “I’m not!”

“Yes, you are,” she grumbled, gesturing to his head, “up there in your mind.”

“You’re chastising me for desiring to make quipsーpositively brilliant ones, mind youーat your expense, and then not doing it?  For being sensitive and kind and merciful?” he smirked, reaching up to cup her face with one hand, thumb running along her jaw.

She crossed her arms, not pleased with the insinuation that she needed him to be sensitive.  It occurred to her then that she was being just thatーsensitive.  Okay, so he had a good point, and he clearly knew it, since the smile spreading across his face was downright cocky (and so pretty).  He leaned down to kiss her, and she gladly accepted his lips on hers.  Just as he slid his free hand around her waist, pulling her body flush with his, taking it from sweet and chaste to downright erotic, the door swung open.

Godsdammit, knock much?! ーLoki barely managed to cast a sphere around himself as a brunette woman (middle-aged from the looks of it) dressed in a typical blue healing robe strode in.  Sigyn pulled a hand down her face, fighting the instinct to berate the woman for her intrusion the exact moment things were getting seriously good.

“Oh excellent, you’re awake,” the healer said. “How fares the patient this morning?”

Pissed off now, thanks. “I’m well,” she said instead, attempting to discreetly rub her thighs together to ease the ache Loki had created between them.  

The woman nodded with a smile. “I suspected you would be.”

“Forgive me,” Sigyn paused, raising an eyebrow, “but who are you?”

“I was your chief surgeon during the operation.  Fiora,” the woman said, head bowing, “of Vanaheim.”

Eyeing the woman up and down, recognition dawned on Sigyn’s face. “Oh my gods, you’re the head of the Academy, aren’t you?”

Fiora smirked proudly. “One in the same.”

“Wow,” Sigyn breathed, genuinely impressed, “the headmistress of the greatest school of healing arts in the nine—I feel like I ought to ask for your signature or something.”

Fiora’s smirk grew into a full blown toothy smile. “Whatever you wish.  Also,” she added after a moment’s hesitation, “Eir told me everything, and I can sense he’s right next to you,” her gaze slid to the empty space next to Sigyn to address Loki directly. “I know you’re here, Your Highness.  You may drop the spell.”

Setting his jaw, Loki glared at the woman, highly vexed.  It was bad enough that Eir had spread news of his return before consulting him, and now this elitist Vanir healer had burst into the room unannounced.

Sigyn snortedー Elitist?  Really, Loki?  Pot calling the kettle black at its finest.

Turning his glare on Sigyn, he sighed heavilyー Fair enough.

He flicked his wrist, the sphere dissolved in a shimmer of green light, and Sigyn snaked an arm around his waist. “Fiora, this is Prince Loki.  He’s my…. my….” she trailed off, brow furrowing.

She glanced up at him— What the Hel do I call you to people?  Boyfriend?  Ha…. no.  That sounds weird to everyone here, and they’d have no idea what it meant.  You certainly aren’t a boy, after all.  Lover?  No, that’s far too intimate….

Loki rolled his eyes.  Was she serious?—what to call him?  Running a hand through his hair, he offered his other one to Fiora. “Fiancé.  I’m her fiancé,” he said, gazing narrowly through his periphery at Sigyn.  

Releasing Fiora’s hand, he sighed heavily.  What…. had they removed part of Sig’s frontal lobe in addition to her womb while she was under?  What else would one call the man whose proposal she had accepted?

Sigyn’s mouth fell open a touch, but she closed it, unsure what to say.  Yes, he’d asked her to marry him, but that had been ages ago, before he’d fallen, before last night— Isn’t ‘fiancé’ a human term?

Odin learned the word centuries back on a mission to Midgard, and he liked it more than ‘betrothed’, so it’s commonly used in Asgard —he waved a hand, then frowned, deep lines creasing his brow, unaware that the healer was talking to him at this point— wait…. what does my fall or last night have anything to do with-

Sigyn shook her head, discreetly mouthing ‘not now’ at him, and he pocketed his hands, clearly anxious to discuss the matter further but choosing to let it go for now.

“Sorry,” she apologized, turning to Fiora, “I think we both disappeared there for a second.  We could use a bit more shut eye still.  You were saying?”

“I said the operation was clean and complete,” Fiora sighed, visibly a bit miffed. “No further treatment necessary.  I also told Prince Loki that I am grateful to see him well and alive, and I hope perhaps he’ll be a positive influence on King Thor,” she finished with an awkward smile.

Brow pinched, Loki cocked his head. “To your knowledge, has news of my return spread beyond the healing rooms?”

“I know not, Your Highness,” she replied with the smallest of shrugs, “but if it’s any consolation, rest assured that every utterance has been nothing but complimentary.”

Blowing out a breath, he smiled, but it was half-hearted at best.  Having consolation of any sort did not render this entire situation problematic.  He opened his mouth to inquire further but stopped short at the sight of Sigyn bouncing softly from foot to foot.  Oh, that’s rightーshe’d needed the washroom earlier before he’d distracted her.  He chuckled quietly as she mumbled a small “excuse me, for a moment” and hurried to relieve herself.

He and Fiora awkwardly stared past each other for a minute until Loki thought of something to say to fill the silence. “So….you’re Vanir like Sig.” He raised a brow, feigning interest.

She nodded. “Mm.”

He slid his hands out of his pockets and clasped them behind his back. “Is it correct to assume you’ve been trapped here since the bridge was destroyed?”

Fiora picked at a hangnail on her thumb. “Yes, unfortunately.  My colleagues at the academy are, ah…. how shall I put it,” she sighed, looking at the ceiling, “anxiously awaiting my return.  Everyone is falling behind without my leadership.”

Eyes focused on the healer’s hands, he wondered if he should tell her about the Vanaheim portalーif it meant returning her without delay to the training of future healing masters who would one day hold the lives of hundreds of thousands of souls in their seiðr-laced hands.  Pursing his lips, he eyed Fiora narrowly.  How would that work?  Would he only tell this woman?  Or should all Vanir be equally informed and transported home?  He’d removed the death spell, so there was no risk in that sense.  

“Being trapped here with no other duties hasn’t been all bad,” she said, interrupting his thoughts. “Rather than twiddle my thumbs mindlessly, I’ve created a brand new upprisuhöfundur course,” she whispered, smirking as she leaned closer. “If I implement it into the core curriculum, and I absolutely will, it would be a first.  Nobody has taught the art of rewinding time and death at the academy.  Ever.”

Interest piqued (to say the least), Loki took a step toward her, repeating what he must have misheard. “An upprisuhöfundur course?” Resurrection sorcery?

She responded with a grin worthy of the cat that got the cream, and he gaped, recalling the desperate, felonious incantation he’d screamed in that cave in hopes of yanking Sigyn back from Hela’s grip.  Managing to pick his jaw back up from the floor, he swallowed.

“I know Vanaheim is more progressive than Asgard,” he said, keeping his voice low, “but I doubt even your liberal leaders would legalize necromancy, much less condone it through their universities.  Would they?”

He had often imagined practicing the darkest of all dark seiðr freely without fear of imprisonment.  Not that he’d ever shied away from illicit spells—technically Two and every other person he’d conjured were forbidden.  He bit his lip, looking sideways, envisioning all those Vanir healers bringing back the dead.  They wouldn’t simply bring endless skeletal corpses to “life” like one might do with the eternal flame in Odin’s vault.  No, they would bring back the actual people…. flesh, bones, and souls.  Entirely death-defying, unending, impenetrable immortality.  Dear gods.

Fiora held a finger up to her pursed lips, winking at him just as Sigyn walked back in the room.

“Sorry about that.  You all must have given me lots of fluids while I was out,” she said, pushing her dark messy locks behind her ears.  She came up next to Loki, hands in her pockets. “And then I had to go searching through the cabinets for soap, which took even longer,” she added, clearing her throat.

“Nothing to apologize for, Sigyn, and I’ll be sure to tsk the room cleaning staff for not staying on top of that,” Fiora replied, dark eyes narrowing in the direction of the washroom.

Sigyn worried her bottom lip, holding up a hand, “Oh I didn’t mean to make a formal complaint or anything.  I was just explaining the cause of my delay, nothing more.”  She hated the thought of Fiora berating some poor servant working for a few miserable coins for such a small offense.  Hearing Loki scoff behind her shoulder, she turned her head slightly, raising an eyebrow at him.  What was his problem?

He shot her a glare— Your assumption is unfair at best, positively insolent at worst.  Palace servants are paid far more than a “few miserable coins”.  We take care of our own far and above what they’d receive outside these walls.  

Sigyn slowly nodded once, mouth forming an ‘o’— Well…. good.  I’m relieved the workers are receiving living wages.

She looked down at the floor, hoping the dark locks falling from behind her ears would hide her now pink cheeks.  She didn’t appreciate being chastised as though she was some petulant adolescent…. even if he did have a point.  She was a grown woman for Hel’s sake; he could have at least tried not to sound so patronizing.

Defending is not the same thing as patronizing, Sig —he dipped his head to meet her at eye level, flashing her a radiant smile— Is it patronizing to tell you we also give them free room and board?

Alright, you’ve made your point, pretty boy —she glared at those perfect pearly whites, torn between leaning forward to legitimately bite his bottom lip for “winning” this little non-argument or push her tongue past it and taste him because she was starving, and he looked better than godsdamn breakfast.

Gaze narrowing, his eyes dropped to her mouth— If you bite me again, Sig, I swear….

“Alright,” Fiora cleared her throat, rolling her eyes at the obvious mind-reading occurring between the pair that was taking precious time out of her already crowded schedule. “A few rules for proper and complete recovery this time around,” she said, clapping her hands together once. “For the next seven days, no baths—only showers.  There’s no bandage, so you needn’t worry about wound dressage.  Also, no horseback riding, and this is important…. absolutely no intercourse.  I will reevaluate you in seven days, and we’ll go from there, but I expect everything will be good to go, and I’ll give you the all clear to do…. well,” she waved a hand in their general direction, “whatever.”

Loki rolled his eyes, suppressing a groan.  He looked forward to the day when his love life would no longer be a topic of conversation.  And why did these healers always only look at him like he was some hormonally disturbed boy incapable of controlling his urges?  Sigyn was the initiator at least half the time.  It was entirely unfair and sexist of them to assume anything to the contrary.

“So,” Sigyn started, annoyed that her body still needed time to recover when she felt fine, “may I return to the royal wing then?  Not that this isn’t a lovely room….” she eyed the sterile and utterly boring white walls.

“Yes, you may.  Prince Loki, on the other hand,” Fiora paused, turning to him.

Brow creasing, he pointed to his chest. “Me?  What’s wrong with me?”

“We’d just like to examine you under the soul forge to make sure you are free of the offending pathogen.  It’ll take no more than ten minutes of your time,” Fiora waved it off. “It would be against my philosophy as a healer to risk Sigyn’s health any further.”

Fuck your philosophyー Loki stared daggers at the woman.

“Of…. course,” he agreed hesitantly, not thrilled with the idea of healers finding remnants of anything desert-related on his body. “I had not…. ehm…. considered that.”

“Well,” Fiora chuckled, “it’s my job to consider all the possibilities.  Don’t fret, Your Highness.  I expect to find nothing.” She looked to Sigyn then, sensing Loki could use her moral support. “You may stay with him, if he wishes.  Now come along,” she said, gesturing for them to follow her through a corridor that split off from the main healing wing. 

Before walking after her, Loki cast a sphere around himself.  They quickly reached their destination, and once safely hidden in one of the exam rooms, he revealed himself to Fiora and the two other healers setting up the forge.  He recognized them from the night beforeーBrenna and Ionna.

“You’ll need to remove your shirt,” Fiora said matter-of-factly while pulling a fresh exam robe over her casual healing wear.

Jaw clenching, Loki reached behind his neck to yank his tunic over his head.  He hand-combed his hair a few times to untangle it, and blew out a breath, awaiting further instructions.  Through his periphery, he caught Brenna not so discreetly staring at him (and blushing profusely) while fluffing the pillow on the exam bed.  Good gods, the girl behaved as though she’d never seen a healthy full grown male before.  Closing his eyes, he groaned inwardly.  Please don’t tell me to strip completely.  Please don’t tell me to-

“You may keep your pants on,” Fiora announced, beckoning him to get on the table.

Thank the Norns.

An entirely too long five minutes later, Fiora announced “you’re clean and clear to go”, and he slid out from under the soul forge, hiding his relief with an eye roll, saying “obviously”.  Grabbing his shirt, he slid an arm around Sigyn’s waist and teleported them straight to his chambers.  

“Godsdamn,” she swore, clinging to his shoulders while waiting for her head to stop swirling. “Warn a girl next time.  Oh and by the way, what the Hel was that shirtless nonsense?  I am convinced it was just an excuse for those stupid girls to ogle you,” she growled, the fire beneath her skin burning hotter just thinking about it. “I know for a fact,” she threw up her hands, “that the soul forge penetrates-“

“Please don’t say penetrates-”

“-fabric,” she continued, not missing a beat, “otherwise the supposed location of the pathogen…. in your pants would have remained hidden.  It makes zero sense.  Read my lips,” she pointed to her mouth, “Ze-ro.  Who do I file a complaint with?  No, better yet, where do I press charges?  They literally groped you, and where I come from, that’s called sexual assault.”

Loki cocked his head, rather amused at how infuriated she was. “That’s slightly hyperbolic,” he said, leaning down to nuzzle her hair. “There was absolutely no groping, but I appreciate you defending my honor like some knight in shining armor.  How very gender-bendy of you.  I like it.”

“Color me shocked that you like how bendy I am,” she deadpanned, trying to pull away from him.  She didn’t appreciate his flippancy about the matter.  If the situation had been reversed, he would have cut off their offending hands in a second.  Before she could wriggle out of his arms, he tightened his hold.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said, twisting a few locks of her hair between his fingers.

“Said every man right before he was smacked.”

“You could use a shower.”

Swearing under her breath, she finally extricated herself from his arms and pushed him away when he tried to reach for her again.

“Don’t be like that, Sig,” he bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Come now, you were covered in blood last night, and the soap in the healing rooms is cheap as dirt,” he explained, eyes wide and innocent. “Certainly not the royal amenities you’ve gotten used to,” he added with a barely there smirk.

Arms crossed, she stared dead-eyed at him silently for a minute.  She then discreetly sniffed her hair and suppressed the instinct to wrinkle her nose.  Oh, he was right.  She’d scrubbed herself raw in the healing room that morning, and apparently it had been for naught.  Holding her head high, she stalked to the washroom.

“You might consider washing your hair twice,” he called after her, deftly avoiding the throw pillow that she tossed at his head before slamming the door behind her.

He picked the pillow up from the floor, brushed it off, and dropped it blindly on the hearth chaise while staring at the empty rug in front of it.  Heart sinking, he set his arm across the mantle and let his forehead fall against it.  Twisting his wrist, an illusion of Fenrir appeared, a big ball of fur curled up on the rug where he should have been.  Loki slid his gaze down to the soulless copy, losing track of time as memories of the wolf that had been like a son to him raced through his head.  He didn’t cry out loud, but his cheeks were soaked by the time Sigyn emerged from the washroom.  He hadn’t even heard the water turn off.

Grey green eyes glinting in the flickering light of the flames, Sigyn stopped in her tracks at the sight of Loki cross-legged on the floor with his head in his hands.  Lying on the rug next to him was a perfect likeness of Fenrir.  Oh no, Loki, don’t….

Tying off the end of her side braid, she walked to him and knelt down behind him. “Do you wish to be alone?  I completely understand if you do,” she whispered shakily, keeping her hands to herself despite wanting to wrap her arms around his neck and sob into the crook of his shoulder. “My old room might still be vacant if you-”

“Absolutely not,” he cut her off, voice ragged as he lifted his head, fixing his wet emerald eyes on the fire.  He ran his thumbs under his eyes and over his cheekbones then blindly reached behind his back for her.  Grabbing her hand from her lap, he pulled her forward, bringing her next to him.  

She leaned her head on his shoulder, eyeing the huge black wolf. “Is he a double?” Probably not.

“I can’t copy dead things, Sig.”

Lower lip trembling, she watched the illusion disappear.  She hated being right.

Raising an eyebrow, Loki smirked at the flames. “No, you don’t.”

She twisted her head on his shoulder to look up at him. “Still listening to my thoughts, I see.”

“Forgive me, I’m weak,” he said, biting into a smile as he stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles, and leaned back onto his elbows with a groan.

“That is the furthest thing from the truth,” she said, eyeing him sideways. “Weak isn’t in your vocabulary.”

“Clearly it is, considering I just used the term.”

“Loki,” she whined, flopping back onto the floor next to him as a laugh rumbled deep in his chest. “You just like being difficult.”

He turned his head to grin down at her and dropped from his elbows to lie down completely. “Did you just meet me?  Or did they really remove part of your frontal lobe after all?”

“Pray tell, what are you going on about?” she sighed, staring up at the lofty curved stones above the fireplace.

“You said….” he trailed off, eyes boring a hole into the side of her head since apparently she found the architecture more interesting than his face, “earlier today when you said…. well…. okay technically you thought- ” he rolled his eyes “-that things had changed since I’d fallen and since…. last night?”

She waited, thinking there was more to that statement. “Was that a question?” she asked when he said nothing further.

He scooted his head closer, eyebrows raised. “Was it?”

Shaking her head, she frowned, still focused on the ceiling. “Was…. what?  I’m confused.”

Eyes narrowing, he made a frustrated sound deep in his chest. “Dammit, Sig, would you please look at me?” He was halfway to grabbing her chin to make her meet his eyes, but he pulled his hand back.  He didn’t want to physically force her.  Or get burned.  Literally. “Were you questioning whether we were still doing that?”

“Doing what?  Getting married?” she pushed up to a seated position and looked down at him like he’d asked her to.  When he only raised his eyebrows, eyes wide, she sighed. 

Following her lead, he sat up. “I’m choosing not to listen to what is happening in your head right now, so would you please use your voice and tell me?”

She scratched an itch on the tip of her nose. “I’m trying to think of a way to say this without offending you.”

“Oh that’s a great start,” he deadpanned, trying to hide how fucking nervous that response made him behind a cloud of sarcasm.

“Alright, here it is,” she licked her lips and swallowed, resisting the impulse to singe the ends of his hair for his tone. “Now that I can’t have children, it crossed my mind that maybe I wouldn’t be…. um…. wife material.  Emphasis on maybe.” She held up her hands as if in surrender.  She could think of a hundred different ways for him to respond to thatーninety-nine of which were not good.

He squinted. “And your inability to reproduce due to a horrific injury diminishes my love and adoration for you or your inherent worth and value to me how exactly?”

Biting her lip, she raised an eyebrow.  That was actually a good question, without a hint of sarcasm.  Color her impressed.

“You’re a prince, and princes become kings, and kings are expected to have heirs, so….” she watched his facial expressions carefully.

Brow creasing, he shook his head. “I don’t care about that.  Also,” he held up a finger when she opened her mouth to respond, “there’s hardly a guarantee that I’ll be king again.  I’m not even sure I want to be king anymore.”

“Really?  But-”

“And,” he added, talking over her, “consider who you’re talking to.” He gestured to his chest, eyes big and round. “Adopted.”

Her mouth snapped shut, and without warning, she choked on a heaving sob. “Oh gods.” He could not have said anything more profound or perfect.  Did he have any idea how much saying that meant to her?

“Come here,” he whispered, pulling her against him and wrapping his arms around her.

She looked up at him through tear filled eyes and gave him a watery smile. “Even blurry, you’re the most beautiful man ever ever ever.”

He couldn’t stop the snort that came out of his mouth. “You are the sole culprit for my continued vanity, darling.”

“I can’t help it,” she muttered, wiping her cheeks and under her eyes with her thumbs. “Thank you.”

He smiled. “For what?”

“For wanting me for me,” she sniffled, cringing at the sound, hoping there wasn’t snot on her nose. “Flaws and all.”

“I could say the same,” he said, running a hand up and down her back.  He frowned then. “Oh, and let’s agree on this: not having children, whether by choice or not, is not a flaw.”

She shrugged, sitting up a little. “Unfortunately, lots of people think it is.”

Lip curling, he glared. “And those people can go to Hel.”

She smiled wide at that. “You might be perfect.”

“Might be?” He winked, pushing to his feet and pulling her up with him.

“And you say I’m the sole culprit for your vanity?” She smirked up at him, walking backwards and pulling him to the bed by his hand. “Loki?”

“Hmm?” He replied, distracted by her bare legs.  She’d put on one of his black tunics rather than her typical longer sleepwear after her shower.  Gazing at the tops of her thighs, hopefully not drooling like a caveman, he bit his lip. “We’re not allowed to yet.”

Letting go of his hand, she pursed her lips, looking sideways as she scooted back onto the bed.  She didn’t need the bond or mind reading capabilities to tell what he was thinking.  She knew that look well enough.  And even if she didn’t, his loose hip-hugging sleeping pants weren’t hiding a thing.

“I’m not trying to get in your trousers, Loki,” she said, pulling the sheet and bedcover over her legs.

His eyes snapped up to hers then, and he cleared his throat. “Of course you aren’t,” he ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his neck, giving her an entirely fake smile to hide the ridiculous blush spreading across his cheeks, “because we’re not allowed to,” he added, to clarify.

Way to save your dignity ーhe rolled his eyes.

She looked down. “What if I want to adopt…. now?”

Jaw dropping, Loki froze.  He had not expected that.  Unable to separate the nine thousand thoughts racing through his head telling him why doing such a thing now was a terrible idea, he just stood there, mouth hanging open.  Sure, when he’d thought she was pregnant back in the tower in Los Angeles, he’d been excited about the prospect of being a father.  And sure, he’d then been pissed when it turned out she wasn’t pregnant and said she didn’t want to be.  And they’d thrown around angry words, and it had been ugly, but ultimately, they’d admitted they did want children together, just not yet.  Not yet being the key phrase.  Had they also not just established the fact that they didn’t need children to solidify or prove their devotion to each other?  He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Sig, I-”

“Okay, let me be clear,” she said, holding a hand up, “before you get your panties in a twist-”

“I wear boxer briefs now, thank you very much,” he glared, hesitantly joining her on the bed.

“Oh gods,” she bit her lip, “and you wear them so well.  Especially the black ones.”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned that,” he forced a smile, still nervous about this whole adoption thing.  She scooted close to him and threw a leg over his lap, pushing up to straddle him.

“Sigyn,” he warned, looking up at her from under his brow as she wrapped her arms around his neck.  His body was responding to this position, and there was nothing he could do to relieve the building pressure.  Of course, she could do something about it, but he wasn’t going to ask her to do him a favor after having just been through significant physical trauma.  Thankfully, she wasn’t grinding down on him.  She was just sitting there, smiling so wide it looked painful for her cheeks.

“What?” he asked, resisting the urge to grip her hips.

“What I meant was we should adopt-”

“Yes, I heard you the first t-”

“-a wolf pup.”

Sigyn pulled her bottom lip through her teeth.  Each second that passed with him just staring back at her with crooked eyebrows like she had lost her damn mind made her chest ache with anxiety.  She could feel his emotions bouncing around like the little white ball in that weird box in one of those kiosks when Pepper took her shopping.  What was it?  It started with a P.

Pinball!

“Dear gods, yes.”

Loki’s voice brought her back from random Earth memories, the smile splitting his features making her heart skip a beat…. or twenty beats.  Gripping the back of his neck, she pulled his face to hers, crashing her lips against his in a hard kiss.  He then grabbed her wrists to loosen her hold on him and leaned back.

Shaking his head, he clucked his tongue. “That’s enough of that.  I’m really not in the mood for blue balls.”

She leaned her head sideways. “When exactly would one be in the mood for such a thing?”

“You just can’t let me have the final word, can you.” Grabbing her by the waist, he lifted her off his lap and deposited her on her side of the bed.  

“Nope,” she grinned.

---

~One Week Later, The Queen’s Business Quarters~

During the next seven days, other than explaining to his mother and brother the events of the last three months and how the Hel he managed to get home, there was much discussion among Loki’s family (not including his father who was still asleep) and Sigyn about the dire need to return all remaining Vanir and the light elves to their homes through the portals to Vanaheim and Alfheim.  Even though Thor had finally delegated the reconstruction effort on the bifrost to more experienced workers, the timeline still put completion two months from then; that was just too long to support the horde of non-Asgardian tourists, dignitaries, and aide workers.  Sure the luxury inns and hostels had been enjoying fantastic business, but most of the foreigners’ funds were draining to the point where they could no longer afford housing or food, and Asgard’s service industry wasn’t exactly a charity.  The service industry needed payment in order to provide service.  

The royal family had been dipping into their pockets to the extent that Frigga was in a constant state of stress.  Not that they were anywhere close to running out, but she was about as risk averse as one could beーshe always had been.  The agriculture industry was their biggest concern.  Farmers and ranchers were not able to produce fast enough to keep up with the high demand, at least not without subjecting the animals to abhorrent crowded and unhygienic conditions or overplanting.  Not to mention the fact they’d been scraping by in freezing conditions for what felt like ages now.  Maintaining production was already far more costly than normal.

So, as much as the family wanted to avoid informing the public of the portals lest possible riots occur, for the sake of the continued health and safety of the Asgardians, the decision was made that Thor would call for a high council vote on the use of portals.  Loki composed a twenty page provisional bill, calling it The Interim Ports of Entry Proposal on a whimーa title that Thor applauded uproariously, fawning over his brother’s “unmatched speedy genius”.  Loki had merely raised an eyebrow, saying “you’re welcome” with a smirk.

Frigga and Sigyn took turns proofreading it for accuracy, precision, and transparency.  Both were shocked at its lack of error, if any at allーnot one misspelled word, much less any actual oversight.  

“This is your first draft?” Sigyn asked, staring in awe at the beautifully penned paper that he’d completed within one hour.  One. Hour.

Seated reversely on a chair in his mother’s business parlor, legs splayed wide on either side of the chairback, Loki shrugged. “What, like it’s hard to pen a groundbreaking piece of legislation off the top of my head?”

Thor laughed, clapping him on the shoulder hard enough to knock Loki’s chest into the chair back in front of him. “That’s my baby brother.”

“Younger brother,” Sigyn corrected, raising her eyes to meet Loki’s as she leaned forward to toss the proposal on the small table in front of her. “Nice hair, by the way, Thor.”

Rolling his now sore shoulder to relieve the ache, Loki winked at her and stood from the chair to join her on the plush sofa by the fireplace.  He draped an arm over her shoulder.

Frigga arched a concerned eyebrow at Thor and dropped a sugar cube into her tea cup, stirring it loudly. “Are you confident in your ability to present this to the high council tomorrow?”

Cringing at the sound of silver spoon scraping against china, Thor rubbed his temples. “Norns, how long does it take to dissolve one measly cube of sugar?  Nails on the academy chalkboard….” his eyes slammed shut.

“Oh for pity’s sake, Thor, stop being so dramatic,” Loki said, wincing internally at the horrid sound.

“You’re right,” Thor said, shooting his brother a look. “That’s your job.”

Loki eyed him. “Are you saying you’d like me to make a dramatic surprise appearance while you so eloquently deliver this speech?” He held up the papers questioningly.

Rolling his eyes, Thor yanked the papers from Loki’s hand. “That won’t be necessary, no,” he said, flipping through the pages with pursed lips, “and I am an eloquent speaker, thank you.  I’m flattered by your faith and support,” he added with a smirk.

“I swear to sleeping Odin himself,” Frigga sighed, pulling a hand down her face, “the sarcasm between you two is just as strong as it was three months ago.”

“It’s better than him trying to kill me,” Thor gestured to Loki.

“Whoever said I wasn’t still planning to?”

“For the love stop,” Sigyn groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This action that we have all agreed is the right action to take for the protection of the realm, and not only this realm, but my home realm, is not a laughing matter.  Thor,” she turned to him, “I don’t know if you are capable of memorizing that,” she pointed to the pages in his hand, “or if it would be best for you to just read it with conviction…. whichever you choose, you need to get to it.  Practice addressing the high council of Asgard to perfection. This is important.  There’s no time for the both of you,” she looked between Loki and Thor, “to try to one up each other with your, quite frankly, lame one liners.  Got it?”

Thor nodded once, and Loki quietly leaned back into the sofa cushions.  Frigga smirked, pleased to no end with her future daughter for taking charge of the room so effectively.  

“Well, I better…. ah…. get to work on this,” Thor held up the papers, clearing his throat as he walked to the doors.

“Have fun,” Loki looked up from under his brow, and Thor shot him a smile, all teeth, over his shoulder as he left.

Relaxing further into the sofa, Sigyn scooted closer to Loki, curling into his side. “You’re so cozy.”

“Impressive for a frost giant, hm?” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her.

Looking up from her desk chair where she’d been reading through a document from Eir requesting her signature for Heimdall’s scheduled sixth (by Hel) eye surgery tomorrow morning, she set her endless quill down and simply stared at the pair on the sofa.  Sigyn’s cheek pressed into Loki’s chest, his chin on her head, both seemingly content to silently sit with each other, no conversation necessary.  Frigga smiled, heart swelling to see her son had found at least one truth to hold on to in the midst of so many lies and the literal Hel he’d been through time and time again.

She frowned, suddenly concerned that she might have just jinxed him, which was silly because there was no such thing, but she knocked twice on the wooden surface of her desk anyway.  He looked up at the sound and caught her eye.  She shrugged it off and winked, exchanging smiles with him.  She then gestured to Sigyn, who had apparently fallen asleep, if the mouth hanging open comically was any indication.

It’s been a long week ーhe stroked her shoulder with his thumb.

Frigga sighedー I know, dearest.

I think it best that I put her in an actual bed so she can rest properly ーhe slid his free arm under Sigyn’s knees.

Nodding once, Frigga smiled, somewhat sadlyー Off you go, my love ーshe held up a hand then, and he paused, eyebrows upー You will come back, right?

Chest constricting, he swallowed the sudden lump in his throatー Always.

Blinking back tears, she kissed the air, a gesture he returned before disappearing from her sight under a wave of magic.  A knock came at the door then, and she pushed up from her chair, hurrying to the door since she had dismissed her servants due to Loki’s presence.  

“Oh Fiora, hello,” she greeted the healer with a smile.

“Your Majesty,” Fiora bowed her head, “I know you probably expected one of the junior healers to grab the pre-operative paperwork for the gatekeeper,” she dropped her head and sighed, “but I needed a break.  I’ve never seen so many ill or injured or both in all my days as a healer.  These past three months have been…. overwhelming.  I hate to admit that.”

Giving her a sympathetic smile, Frigga nodded and opened the door further.  Fiora stepped inside, waiting patiently, hands clasped in front of her as the queen gathered the necessary documents.

“Yes, well,” Frigga skimmed through the pages to make sure she’d signed everything, “the conditions across the realm have declined due to increased demand on our resources, as you know.  Hopefully, that will be rectified soon.  I’m so sorry,” she said, handing the papers over.

“Hopefully,” Fiora said, nodding her thanks. “I know having your tech back up to standards would make everyone happy, too,” she added, holding up the paper. “Might as well be exchanging messages with tiny sealed scrolls in ravens’ beaks.”

Rolling her eyes, Frigga snorted. “Yes, physical paper trails are as archaic as horse-carts and incredibly inefficient.  But it did give you an excuse to get out of the healing wing for a bit.”

“Thank you for pointing out the silver lining, Your Grace,” Fiora smirked, turning to leave.  She paused then, head cocked. “One more thing,” she said, spinning on her heel to face Frigga once more, “is it true, that if we restore Heimdall’s sight, he will have the power to remake the bifrost nearly overnight?”

Frigga frowned. “Valhalla, is that what people have been saying?” Dragging her hands down her face, she groaned behind them. “I swear, the rumors in this realm.  No, only my husband can repair the bridge that quickly.  Heimdall could speed up the process though.”

She felt rotten for having to keep her mouth shut rather than give the healer the good news that she would be home within days through the forest portal.  The hope for returning to the academy appeared to be draining out of the woman, and a part of Frigga feared that it would affect her ability to do the surgery properly.  That said, Fiora had done a magnificent job with Sigyn, so it was probably fine.

“Again, I’m so sorry for this mess,” she sighed.

Fiora arched an unimpressed eyebrow. “It’s not your fault, Your Grace.”  Turning away, she rolled her eyes muttering “it’s your son’s” under her breath.

“Best wishes for the operation, Fiora,” the queen called out as the other woman opened the door to leave.

Fiora nodded her thanks and closed the door softly behind her.  Head in her hands, Frigga fell heavily onto the sofa, offering up a silent prayer for Heimdall to see again and for Odin to please just wake up.  

---

~Later that night, Loki’s Chambers~

A shuffle of soft leather.  Barely there footsteps.

Sigyn shot up in bed, fear trickling down her spine.  Or maybe that was just sweatーvery cold sweat.  Squinting in the dark, she reached blindly across the sheets for Loki.  She gripped his bicep, shaking it a little.

“Loki?” she whispered, extremely upset with herself for being scared.  Of the dark.  Like a weak and powerless little girl.

You are not weak ーher eyes narrowed further, searching every square inch of the roomー or powerless.

Allowing the fire under her skin to burn hotter, she said Loki’s name again, voice stronger this time.  When he still didn’t respond, she dared to take her eyes off the threat (whatever it was) in the darkness, and peaked down at him.  Seeing his pale exposed torso gleaming in the light of the moons, she let out a sigh of relief.  For a moment, a small part of her had thought maybe someone else had been lying next to her.  Studying his form a bit more closely, she brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face.  His raven hair was fanned out on the pillow, sharp shadows in the hollow of his cheekbones and under his jaw, thin lips slightly parted.  Yes, that was Loki alright, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.  He was breathing, right?  Eyes moving from his face to his torso again, she watched the rise and fall of his chest for several beats before deciding that he was fine, just in an extremely deep sleep.

“He’s not dead, just drugged.”

“THE HEL?!” Sigyn shouted, jumping out of bed faster than Thor’s lightning.  Black smoke shot from her fingers across the room in the general direction of the voice as the fireplace roared to life, sparks flying onto the rug, casting flickering shadows into the room.  

Still too dark!—Breathing hard, she watched her smoke ignite every single candle wick and the chandelier over the bed, lighting up the space.  In the corner by the main doors, a slim woman with green (green??) skin was crouched, hands covering her head protectively.  Angry stormcloud eyes flashing, Sigyn pulled the smoke back a bit since it was clear that the intruder wasn’t some terrifying monster.  She kept her hands up though, poised to strike again in case this green woman with strikingly attractive features and long gorgeous dark magenta-tipped hair turned out to be far more threatening than she appeared.  

“Motherf-” the woman coughed, rising to her feet, covering her mouth and nose “-no one mentioned you were a goddamn witch.”

“Sorceress,” Sigyn spoke through her teeth, black mist curling around her fingers and the tips of her hair, “and you have about ten seconds to tell me who the Hel you are, how you got in here, and what you did to him,” she nodded to Loki, “before I melt that pretty flesh right off your bones.”

Warm chocolate eyes narrowing, the woman held up her hands in surrender. “Ten seconds won’t be long enough-”

“NOW!” Sigyn shouted, sparks spitting out from the candelabra onto the leather sleeve of the woman’s jacket.

Jumping back instinctively, the woman hissed, quickly patting the flame down that had spread up her arm before her long locks could catch on fire. “Alright alright, you made your point!  You have fancy powers like your boyfriend over there, got it.  Now would you please let me finish a sentence?  I’m no good to you dead.”

“I fail to see why you’re any good to me alive either,” Sigyn countered, chest heaving.

Crossing her arms, the woman inclined her head. “Let me explain, and you’ll see plenty why.  Or would you prefer to watch all of Asgard burn along with me?” She raised an eyebrow.

Sigyn blinked once, twice, three times at the woman. “Being cryptic isn’t helping your cause, whatever it is, and I’m not even Asgardian,” she said, dropping her hands slowly, “but I’ll hear you out, for his sake.” She nodded to Loki.

The woman smirked. “Pretty and smart.  Nice.” She cleared her throat and coughed again since the smoke hadn’t entirely cleared yet. “My name is Gamora.  I’m an adopted daughter of Thanos,” she held up a hand when Sigyn’s jaw dropped, “but I’m not his mouthpiece, and I don’t work for him.  Not anymore, at least,” she added, sucking in her cheeks as she looked down at her hands. “By the look on your face, I assume you’re familiar with him.”

Gritting her teeth, Sigyn shook with anger. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now, daughter of Thanos,” she said, skin crawling as the name of Loki’s torturer dripped from her lips like poison.

“Because Thanos is coming after Loki, Sigyn.  And I know how to stop him.”

“Is that so?  How might we do that?  Hand over the tesseract?” Sigyn asked, voice shaking. “That’s why he sent Loki to Earth, right?  Somehow I don’t envision him not attempting to kill Loki, even if we did give him the cube he’s so desperate for.”

Gamora snorted, humorless. “Trust me.  If my father wants to kill someone, he does it.  There’s no attempting about it.” She sighed heavily, looking Sigyn directly in the eyes. “He’d crush Loki’s windpipe in one hand like that,” she snapped her fingers once.

Biting her lip to keep it from wobbling, Sigyn swallowed, blinking back tears.  Gamora presented a far too vivid picture for her mind to concentrate on.  She tried to shake the image, but it persisted like a mutating virus, and she slammed her eyes shut.

“That’s why I’m here,” Gamora said quietly, daring to take a step toward her. “I don’t want that for him.  Or you.”

Sigyn raised her head to look at the other woman through tear filled eyes. “Why do you even care?”

Gamora swallowed, eyes shining in the firelight with genuine emotion. “Because I couldn’t live with myself if I allowed it.  I saw what they did to him.  They did everything they could to break him.  And I thought they had been successful when he chose to go to Earth for my father.”

Looking away, Sigyn shook her head. “He only took that mission because your father threatened to kill me.”

“I’d sooner let Asgard burn than let anyone or anything hurt you,” Gamora whispered, eyes on the floor at Sigyn’s feet, and when she looked back up, her face was wet.  She gestured with her chin to Loki. “He said that in his sleep.”

Heat burned Sigyn’s cheeks.  She didn’t know if it was the betrayal over the genuine invasion of privacy into Loki’s mind, or the memory of him first saying those words to her, or the shame over the sentiment of sacrificing an entire race for one person, or the graphic image of Thanos breaking Loki’s neck, or maybe it was all those things at once that had her dashing for the washroom as her mouth filled with saliva.  Emptying the few contents of her stomach, rather violently, into the toilet, she sobbed.  She was vaguely aware of Gamora’s presence in the doorway.

“My father led all of usーthe Other, the chitauri, the moronic bestia, the black order, my sister, meー all of us to believe he just wanted the space stone because of its specific power, nothing more.  And that Loki was charming and good-looking and manipulative and powerful enough to get the humans to hand it over without much in the way of force.  Thanos is nothing if not efficient.”

Sigyn cried harder, stretching her arm across the porcelain bowl to rest her forehead on it. “Right…. efficient.”

Gamora knelt down next to her, avoiding touching her. “Thanos is no fool, Sigyn.  He didn’t actually trust the god of mischief to deliver.  That said,” she rolled her eyes, “he didn’t expect the tesseract to just disappearー Loki with it.  That was why he bugged him in the first place.  He knew Loki would steal the stone, and use it to return to Asgard since your Bifrost had been destroyed.  And he knew Loki would do those things with the intent of getting back to you.  And you, Sigyn, are what Thanos wants.  Well,” she shrugged, “you and Loki combined.”

Spitting out more saliva into the bowl, Sigyn looked up from under her brow, eyes locking with Gamora’s. “You’re saying Thanos used the tesseract as a ruse to get to me,” she rasped, eyes narrowed in disbelief, “a simple Vanir woman who happens to be able to light things on fire.”

Gamora sucked in her cheeks. “I wouldn’t reduce you to a simple woman who lights things on fire, since you aren’t some basic every day arsonist, but yes.  Again though, not just you.  You and Loki.”

Sigyn shook her head. “He could have an infinity stone, but instead he’s focusing his energy on getting us?  That makes no s-”

“Your magic combined is a weapon like nothing we’ve seen.  Loki showed it to us in his sleep.  You and him on the bridge…. lighting those frost giants up?  Wow.  Yes, if my father was able, by some horrific fate, to get his hands on all the infinity stones, then he could literally wipe out half the universe, which he would consider merciful, incredibly.  But he doesn’t know where they all are.  No one knows.  They’re scattered all over.”

Running a hand through her hair, Sigyn blew out a breath. “That still doesn’t explain what he intends to do with Loki and me.  Why us specifically?  There are sorcerers all over the bloody universe.”

“Because he can use you against each otherーhang your lives over each others’ heads,” Gamora sighed. “He can put Loki’s admission about letting Asgard burn for you to the test.  He already sterilized you—not that he knows he was successful—so there would be no children for you to concern yourself with.”

It took a second to register, but Sigyn cocked her head after a moment, eyes widening.“Say what?” 

Gamora ran a hand through her hair. “I already told you that he bugged Loki.  Bugged him.  It wasn’t just your every day chip implanted in his head to track him down if he went rogue on Thanos.  It was a literal bugーa temporary parasite that embedded itself inside his optic nerve, turned his eyes blue, and traveled down his body, a parasite that looks like a mutated viral infection that was discovered to be deadly only to the people of Vanaheim.” She paused, expecting Sigyn to respond, and when she didn’t, Gamora focused on the marble tiles under her feet.

“Like I said…. Loki talked a lot in his sleep,” she whispered. “That’s how Thanos knew you were Vanir.  That’s how he learned Loki was adopted, how his real father practically impaled you and where he did, how you then killed him.  There was Thor breaking the bridge too…. the list goes on.  I don’t want to be graphic,” she cleared her throat, “so let’s just say that Thanos wanted Loki to transmit the bug to you, so there would be permanent damage.” She eyed Sigyn’s lower stomach and sighed. “Mission accomplished.  Again, not that Thanos knows that.”

Sigyn glared at the top of Gamora’s head for a minute before finally speaking. “That is the most fucked up shit I’ve ever heard.” The language sounded so very human in her head, and it was the absolute truth.

“They don’t call him the Mad Titan for nothing,” Gamora raised her head to meet Sigyn’s eyes.

“Poor Two,” Sigyn whispered, remembering him writhing on the floor, begging for the pain to stop.  Knowing now that the Other had been somehow invisibly injecting a parasite directly into his eyes made it that much worse.

Gamora tilted her head. “Poor who?”

Ignoring the question, Sigyn pushed to her feet. “Did Thanos the Almighty Sadist discover how Loki managed to disappear from his sight?”

Shaking her head, Gamora put her hands in her jacket pockets. “Suddenly the bug and the tesseractー poof ーgone.  No evidence.” She shrugged. “And I noticed on my way here that the bridge is still in disrepair, and since the cube hasn’t been activated since the humans toyed with it on Earth, I’m impressed.” She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t suppose you’d be willing to share that little secret?”

Crossing her arms, Sigyn leaned against the washbasin. “All smoke and mirrors.”

Gamora squinted up at the lofty vaulted ceiling, moonbeams streaming through the skylight casting shadows across her features. “You don’t trust me.  I get it.”

“I am nine hundred some odd years old, Gamora,” Sigyn stared blankly at the woman. “I spent centuries growing up in an abusive home, with an abusive mother, who welcomed abusers into her bed nearly every night.  My sisters and I paid the price for her actions every godsdamn day.  Since then I have been to Hel and back only to go through it again when Loki fell.  I can count on one hand the number of sentient beings I trust.  It’s nothing personal.”

Sigyn pursed her lips, grey green eyes darkening. “You never said how you arrived here in the first place, adopted daughter of Thanos.  Obviously, you are not a native of the nine.  And no one other than those from the NineーMidgard withstandingーtravel here.”

Snorting quietly, Gamora rolled her eyes. “I wondered when you would bring up the color of my skin.  No, I’m obviously not a member of the nine,” she made air quotes, “which by the way, sounds incredibly elitist.”

Sigyn fixed her with a glareー Fair point. “Do enlighten me then,” she said.

“The nine,” Gamora began, “as though there aren’t millions more planets across the universe other than the ones Daddy Odin discovered.”

“If you think insulting Loki’s adoptive father is in any way offensive to me, you are highly mistaken,” Sigyn shot her an unimpressed look.

“I wasn’t trying to offend you,” Gamora said, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I get frustrated with looking different sometimes, and I lose my logic filter.”

Sigyn looked her up and down, feeling somewhat bad now. “If it helps, green is my favorite color.”

“Thanks, that means so much to me,” Gamora deadpanned. “I was born on Zen-Whoberi, and Thanos wiped out half the population, including my mother when I was a little girl.  He took me away, indoctrinated me into his….” she trailed off, searching for the word, “let’s say philosophy, and I got my hands dirty so he didn’t have to.  Turns out, the half of my planet that survived are dead now too, so I’m the last of my race.”

Sigyn looked away. “Being the last of your people must be hard.  I can’t imagine.”

“As for how I arrived,” Gamora shrugged, ignoring Sigyn’s comment, “two months ago I discovered Thanos’s unforgiveable plans for Loki and you, so I stole a ship from him, removed its communications board, and I’ve been hitting jump points in stealth mode ever since to come here in hopes of warning you before it was too late.  I didn’t expect Loki to get to you so damn fast, so obviously I can’t do anything about the bug’s consequences, but if you let me, I can help you both defeat him.”

Brow creasing, Sigyn pursed her lips. “Why would you drug Loki then?  This all seems like rather pertinent information for him, too.”

Gamora took a deep breath before answering. “I was afraid he might recognize me and kill me before I had the chance to explain myself.”

Sigyn hummed, rubbing a tension ache in her shoulder. “How did you do it?  It would take much more than your basic Asgardian tranquilizer to knock him out like that.” She pointed to him through the open doorway. “Was it an injection?  A syringe?  Honestly, I’m surprised I don’t feel drowsy from it.” As unpleasant as the effects would be, she hated not feeling him through the bond.

“It’s a Jotun tranq actually,” Gamora said, pulling out a clear bottle from a chest holster under her jacket. “And no, I didn’t inject him.  I held it up to his nose, like smelling salts.  He inhaled it, nothing more.  He’ll be awake in probably….” she shrugged “….twenty minutes?”

“Did you know he was Jotun from his sleeptalking?” Sigyn pushed off the washbasin, taking a few steps forward, eyes narrowed.

Shaking her head, Gamora held her position even though she wanted to shrink away from this fire sorceress. “Thanos did, but I found out because I watched him in the showers.” She held her hands up in defense as soon as she realized how that could have been interpreted. “Okay, wow, poor word choice.”

Jaw clenched, Sigyn stared daggers. “Then by all means, correct your words.” Don’t burn herーdo NOT burn her.  

Gamora swallowed, stomach flipping anxiously as she fought the instinct to yank her sword from her hip holster. “Loki was in solitary confinement for thirty days,” she watched Sigyn’s flexing fingers carefully, “no clothes, no food, no water, no bed, no blankets, no bath.  When they finally brought him out, they threw him into the shower area.  There were two way mirrors to keep an eye on him, and I led the security team behind the mirror.  I volunteered up front, so I could stop them from doing anything to him when he was in such a physically vulnerable state.  So I watched, and what I sawーwhat all of us sawーwas…. ah…. unexpected.  When the hot water hit him, his skin turned blue.  I think the water maybe scalded him, and it was a reflexive defense thing.” She shrugged. “Probably saved him from a host of horrors in there, not that I would have allowed anyone to touch him.  But damn, he scared the hell out of those idiot chitauri guards.  They tripped all over themselves and fell on their asses trying to get away from him.”

Eyes shining with fresh tears, Sigyn wasn’t sure if she wanted to punch something or crumple to the ground.  Now she understood why Loki had blocked the desert from her.  It wasn’t just heartbreakingーit was fucking traumatizing.  The fact that he had not only survived but had come out on the other side stronger….

Loki doesn’t deserve a throneーhe deserves the godsdamn UNIVERSE .

“I should get back to my ship,” Gamora said, squaring her shoulders. “I hid it miles deep in the forest, and it’s freezing out there.”

Blinking back tears, Sigyn ran both hands through her hair. “I’ll grab you a warmer coat.” She then padded silently to Loki’s dressing room, reemerging with a hooded, ankle length, fur lined leather jacket and gloves. “Here,” she whispered, helping Gamora into the heavy garment. “I’ll come find you tomorrow.  Do you have food in your ship?  Water?”

Gamora nodded. “Yes and yes.  Thank you.”

Sigyn managed a smile, though it was half-hearted at best, as Gamora hurried, boots silent on the hardwood, to the balcony and jumped over the ledge.  She rolled when she hit the ground, pushing to her feet gracefully, and with one last look up at Sigyn, she darted off toward the forest.  Sigyn watched the woman until she disappeared behind the cloud of snow whipped up by her sprinting feet.  Breathing in the freezing wind deep through her nostrils, she called her fire to the surface of her skin to warm up.  It didn’t workーnot even a little bit.  Wrapping her arms around herself, she lifted her eyes to the moons, shivering at the feel of a single tear freezing against the skin of her cheek.

Why are you doing this?—Here she was, standing barefoot in nothing but Loki’s tunic on the frigid balcony as though she deserved to freeze to death.  What sort of self flagellation was this?  Rubbing her arms, she walked back into the room and stood at the edge of the bed, staring at Loki who was still passed out.  She rubbed her eyes, trying to make sense of the new (awful) information.  Thanos was coming to Asgard, not because he knew Loki was here, but because she was, and he could use her to get to him.  At least he assumed she was in Asgard.  How would he know if she was or wasn’t?  None of them knew she’d been on EarthーGamora would have said so.  And if Gamora had no idea that Loki had used a copy on Earth to escape the reawakening of a literal bug, and had concealed the cube behind a vibranium mask, and then used a secret portal through the floor of the ocean off the coast of Catalina to escape to Asgard, it was highly likely that Thanos was just as confounded.  The Mad Titan was basing his actions off of mere assumptions.  Maybe they could create a diversion or something that would lead him elsewhere.  Gamora said she knew how to defeat him, and that she would help them, so there was still hope.  But….

She could be lying…. maybe Thanos sent her.

Face crumpling, the panic that had been sitting in Sigyn’s gut like a lead brick crept up into her chest, threatening to rise higher into her throat.  She dropped to her knees, and grabbing the bedcover, she bit into it to stop from screaming.  It had all been too good to be true.  There had never been any way in Hel that she and Loki would lead anything resembling normal prosperous lives with a reunited family or an awakened Allfather or a gatekeeper with restored sight or a wolf pup to cuddle.  She’d known all along.  She’d known they were bound for this.

Tragedy.  

This was worse than seeing her sister raped by Freya’s lovers.  Worse than murdering an entire village, then seeking asylum away from her home for fear of execution.  Worse than burning Sif to a crisp and having her magic yanked from her under her skin.  Worse than feeling Loki spiral after Jotunheim.  Worse than falling from a cliff in Vanaheim.  Worse than meeting Hela.  Worse than a near gutting by Laufey.  Worse than laying Theoric and Gylfi and thousands of other dead Asgardians on funeral pyres.  Worse than hugging Fen’s corpse for an entire day.  Worse than watching Two be tortured by the Other.  Worse than a murderous parasite stripping her of her womb.

No, this was the agonizing bridge all over again.  Death was on the horizon; she could see him coming for not only Loki, but for her, and just like three months ago, she doubted she was strong enough to save him…. or herself.  Taking in a shuddering breath, she released the covers from her teeth and climbed up onto the bed, her back facing Loki so she wouldn’t have to see his perfect neck and envision it being snapped by Thanos.  Curling into a paralyzed ball of fear, she wept silently into her pillow until she fell asleep.

FEARLESS CONTINUES IN CHAPTER THIRTEEN: LIVING GHOSTS

Visit the Trilogy main page HERE.

Chapter links: ¹ You’ll Have Answers Later ² Talk Some Sense to Me, Sig. ³ Interlude in Asgard (Endless Grief) ⁴ Wild Magic (It’s All We Have) ⁵ Heat is My Specialty (What is Blue For) ⁶ Storms Pass, Loki. ⁷ Trust Me, I’ve Got This. ⁸ A Heavy Gift ⁹ Sick and Tired ¹⁰ Hold On, We’re Going Home (Green Is for Life Part 2) ¹¹ Home is Chaos ¹² Looks That Kill ¹³ Living Ghosts ¹⁴ No Rules (Tick Tock) ¹⁵ The Calm ¹⁶ The Storm

Chapter 17 Coming October 2021

CHAPTER TWELVE THEME SONG:

“The Witching Hour” by The Ready Set

What Readers Have Said

About CH 12 “Looks That Kill”

“This was a bipolar chapter, but in the BEST way. So much emotion and things to think about. I really have no clue where to start my comment. While I’m saddened that Loki and Sigyn won’t be able to have a JotunnxVanir baby version of themselves, I’m glad you gave them the option of adoption and especially that little bit about adopting a wolf pup. I’m so excited for that 🙂 The grief they both still feel for Fen is devastating.. but beautiful. I love that you have managed cowrite such a perfect attachment to the wolf in the story so that even us readers feel his loss.

I most certainly did NOT see Gamora coming.. and though this is bound to bring so much goddamn pain in the chapter’s to come, I’m excited to see where it will go.

Yay for the Loki and Thor reunion!! (Not that I had thought Loki would kill Thor) but the reunion was so beautifully well written and so damn emotion-filled that I teared up myself. It’s so nice to see them as brothers and acting like them too, even with the friendly banter and insulting that goes on. It’s a wonderful dynamic.

Any mention of thANUS makes me salty as hell. I’m going to forever worry about how this story is going to end because I want them to be happy so much :’) The revelation that he is responsible for Sigyn’s devastating injury makes me so angry and curious to see whether or not she will inform Loki and how she will do it. Will he still blame himself is she does tell him? So many questions!!!

There’s also a tinge of humour in this chapter, which only makes the balance of emotions that much better.”

-DevilishDoll, on CH 12 “Looks That Kill”, 23 Apr 2019 (AO3)

“Gamora is awesome. I can’t wait to see more of her although Loki may be a tad miffed about her drugging him (understatement of the year) Angst I can handle but the idea that Loki and Sig will end in tragedy is breaking my heart.

Double high fives Jen, damn straight they don’t need to have children in order to be complete. I can picture how they would adopt. Go to whatever the Asgardian equivalent of an orphanage is, look for whoever gets into the most trouble for misbehaving, and say yes THAT is the one for us.”

-Ferbette, on CH 12 “Looks That Kill”, 23 Apr 2019 (AO3)

“Wow, what an interesting chapter was this! So Thanos is after Loki and Sigyn, I hope he don’t successfully finding them and the tesseract, poor Loki he is so broken . Cannot wait for the rest.”

-Maïté, on CH 12 “Looks That Kill”, 08 Oct 2019 (AO3)

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Please feel free to leave a comment below. Reviews are (almost always *wink*) a source of excitement and humble joy for Jen!