The messenger arrived breathless. "Thor has returned," he gasped. An instant later the throneroom doors heaved open and Thor strode in. Gone was the uplifted gratitude with which he'd left. His brow was stormy and fury glittered in his eyes. He stopped in the center of the room, radiating tension.

Loki's heart dropped, sickened. "Thor."

"Father," he growled. "Something is wrong."

He continued the calm facade. "What have you seen, my son?"

Thor's glower darkened. "A vision."

The sickness deepened. "Did you see it from the Norns, child? In the pool?"

"Yes."

He took a breath. "I trust that your news is grave, but I would warn you against possible counterfeit. It would be easy for a powerful sorcerer to mimic such a vision for the furtherance of their own ambitions—especially if that sorcerer had trained under the Norns themselves."

"What would I do that could further a sorcerer's ambitions?"

"I know not. My caution is only a general warning. What did you see?"

"I saw Asgard falling to ruin; I saw six stones. I saw my brother. He took on your form, Father...he spoke in your voice." The confusion on Thor's face dawned into realization, darkened.

"Have you found any explanation—any clue as to what this is or when it will take place?"

Thor's voice was low. "I believe it has already begun."

A long moment slipped by in silence. Loki gestured to the guards. "Leave us."

Some left, others cast back an uncertain glance before departing.

When the last was gone, he stood.

Tears glistened in his brother's eyes.

"Before I-"

"No," he growled. "Just do it."

He took a deep breath and dropped the disguise.

Thor's face crumpled. He shook his head, looking as if he wanted to speak but unable.

Loki spoke softly and the chamber magnified the near whisper. "It is not what it seems."

Thor took a deep, trembling breath. "It never is, is it?"

He had thought about this situation; what he would say, how he would say it. None of it seemed to work now. "Thor, when I told you-"

"No!" he shouted. Thunder crashed overhead. "I trusted you!" Tears ran down his face, features contorted in anguish. "It was the last time!" Mjolnir spun into a blur.

What could he do? Where could he go? He could vanish, but his guilt would be proven in his brother's mind. He put up his hands slightly, in surrender.

Thor roared and the hammer flew. It smashed into his chest and threw him back against the throne, and in only a moment Thor had ascended the stairs and stood before him, chest heaving, face shiny with mucus and tears and hammer uplifted. His shoulders jerked with a sob and he shook his head, cocked the hammer back and struck...

Cold stone against his cheek. Loki blinked, winced, blinked more slowly. His left eye wouldn't open. His head and his chest seemed to split when he moved. Shackles on his wrists and ankles, hands behind his back, chains connected to the wall. This was not the cell his mother had given him—this was the real dungeon. He closed his eye.

Later that day a guard arrived. "The Allfather is dead, and in his stead Thor is rightfully crowned. His first decree is your execution, set to take place in one week." He left as abruptly as he'd come. Loki drifted back to sleep.

"Loki."

Dark. "Mother?" His voice was faraway, sluggish.

"No. Get up."

The voice slipped away.

An electric crash and a shock shot through the shackles. He gasped and the cell came into focus. He blinked hard and his left eye opened as well, with full vision. Congealed blood crusted his eyelid and lashes, though, and he rubbed it gingerly on his shoulder.

Standing on the other side of the clear wall was Sif.

He paused, worked himself up to an elbow and then sat upright, paused again to fend off dizziness. There she was, looking at him, her face a mask of attempted indifference over anger.

His heart skipped a beat and raced. Broken memories came in a barrage, each one an instant and a lifetime.

Light gilding her face as they sat in the dining hall, sunset. The bold curve of her eyebrows, the straight line of her nose, firm lips and strong jaw framed by a cascade of raven hair. Her eyes were fixed on the middle ground. She was thinking...

Training ring. He entered and she turned, face breaking into a brilliant smile and hand lifting in a wave.

Sitting by the hearth, solitary together. No need to speak, no need to do anything but stir the fire. She put her head on his shoulder and her hair smelled lovely.

A hundred conversations, a hundred thousand hours spent studying each other-features, expressions, mannerisms, thoughts, likes, until she felt as familiar to him as he himself...a hundred thousand details, the faint perfume on her clothes, the calluses on her hands, the furrow of her brow as she thought, the way her eyes flashed when she was happy...

It had been so long.

Now her eyes were as cold as the stone beneath him. And yet-and yet-could a warm glimmer still exist?

Her name felt alien on his tongue. "Sif?"

"Your execution is in a week."

"So I've been told."

Silence.

Her lips twitched slightly. "I wanted to avoid you forever after what you did to me. But I never thought that you would die. It sounds foolish, I know, but I simply imagined you drifting off to your own path and me to mine, never to speak again. I didn't think it would happen like this."

Seconds ticked by.

The indifference melted. "Why?" she half-whispered.

He swallowed. Blood pulsed to his cheeks. How often had he imagined this? How many hours had he spent rehearsing? And now his heart was in his throat and his face was on fire, defenses gone, disarmed as only she could disarm him. He took a breath. "Thor had set his affections upon you."

She hesitated, then nodded.

"He wanted me to leave you, so that he could try for your heart. I said no, but he was stronger. I endured two months of beating and after that...I ran. I let you go, and I fled in shame. If I told you of anything that was happening, Heimdall was honor-bound to tell Thor. It was because of this that I ran away and re-invented myself. But even after I had grown strong, I remained distant. I couldn't face you."

The silence fell again, for a long time. "Heimdall..." Hurt was written on her face, but then she shook her head and the collected front returned. She looked back to him. "You were afraid to return?"

"Afraid at first. I thought that if my heart was a gauge of the damage done, then even after I was able, I couldn't ask you to forgive me. I couldn't ask for those months of blackest anguish to be re-visited and undone so soon. I thought it needed more time to fade, to heal, and then when I was ready to ask you...then came the coronation."

Anger flashed through her eyes. "Why did you do it?"

"The coronation?"

"Everything. Jotunheim, Midgard-and in addition to all of those lives, you tried to kill Thor. And you killed Odin! You disguised yourself..." She shook her head. "I thought I knew you."

His lips compressed slightly. "First, I was wrong. But there are factors that you don't know. And I didn't kill Odin."

"Tell me."

He took another breath, then closed his eyes and changed into his Jotun form.

Sif gasped, and her footsteps shuffled back.

"I planned the attack on Thor's coronation. I knew the Jotun were preparing for war; I saw the signs, I walked among them in disguise. I knew that Odin was reluctant to face the truth, just was he was reluctant to face Thor. Thor was no better. He would have charged in and destroyed us all in a blind attack. I staged the fight to gauge their reactions." He closed his eyes tighter. "The Jotun were already going to move. I simply directed them to do so in a beneficial way. If Thor and Odin reacted as I thought they would, then I felt it was my duty to lead. I didn't want to hurt anyone—not father, not Thor. We had rebuilt our friendship then. Even so I believed it needed to be done. Thor needed to be banished, and there he would either learn to become a worthy king or cease to be a danger. As to how that played out, he was already going to attack Jotunheim. I simply arranged things so that we wouldn't be killed there." He paused. "It was there on Jotunheim that I discovered all was not right." Hesitantly, he opened his eyes, gaze on the floor. She was still there. Relief. "That night I returned to the vaults and discovered that I was—that I am—as you see me. I had been lied to my entire life. I snapped; Odin fell into Odinsleep, and I was left to rule in my emotionally compromised position. I made choices that I understand but cannot now condone." He lifted his gaze, slowly, to meet hers'. "I am sorry."

The silence continued.

"And Midgard?"

His voice was hoarse. "My mind was not my own. I was subjected by a titan named Thanos..." he told her everything, how he had struggled and sought to undermine the titan's control, how he had built the Avengers, and how the events had unfolded leading to his kingship. When he finished her expression was unreadable.

"This is the truth?"

He half-smiled. "I cannot lie to you."

Her face was conflicted. She looked up, the indifferent mask back in place, and walked away.