"Are you certain that you should do this?" Loki asked worriedly, standing by the empty, crystalline doorframe. He'd been standing there for almost a full three minutes before he'd decided to speak; and even now, he knew it was futile.

I knew he was just worried, so I kept myself from rolling my eyes, and fought back the impatient reply. Rubbing my hands together and blowing warm air on them for a moment in an attempt to work out some of the numbness, I picked up the last item on my little paper list- a pencil case- and stuffed it into my backpack. "I'm sure," I replied, zipping the pack up with freezing fingers. Slinging it over my shoulder, I turned to my fiancée for the first time since I'd gotten up this morning. I'd been avoiding looking at him, afraid my resolve would break if I let his stare lock with mine for any prolonged length of time; but I knew that I was right, and I knew that this was what I had to do.

Loki's red eyes watched me carefully, warily, as I stepped up to him and kissed his cheek once. "I'll be fine," I promised. "Quit worrying. I've faced worse."

He lifted an eyebrow, the gesture making the dark pattern lines on his forehead twist and contort. But he allowed me to pass him, walking through the doorway and into the next room. There was a steady portal in the room, one that could be locked from either side on either planet, to be used until the Asgardians got their Bifrost up and running again; and until Jotunheim got its own.

The portal was currently locked, but I knew that Stark would be opening it soon; I did a quick double-check to make sure I had everything as I waited. I moved a pack of gum out of my bag and into my pocket, just in case; it was easier when the stuff was on hand.

"In my very thoughts," Loki said quietly. "And you are still a puzzle, Frost."

"Ah!" I pointed my finger at him, brown eyes dancing playfully. "Nope. No more calling me 'Frost'. You gotta get outta that habit while you can: the last name'll be changing soon enough." I wiggled the fingers of my left hand, letting the simple silver band on my ring finger catch the weary light that reflected through the ice.

Loki did not fall for the distraction. I hadn't entirely thought that he would. Almost as though I had not spoken, he continued, "I'm not sure why you still feel that you must do this." His eyebrows furrowed. "It is not as though it's necessary. Your… 'employment opportunities' are hardly limited: on any of our worlds."

I liked the way he said that. 'Any'. Not 'both'. He may have accepted Jotunheim as his home world, may even be ruling the planet of the Frost Giants as its king… But in so many ways, he still viewed Asgard as his 'home'. Then again, he'd only been king for a week. It would take some time.

I turned my attention back to his words. Swiveling my body away from the portal, turning on my foot to him, I looked up at him. "Humor me?"

A frown tugged at the corner of his lips. I rolled my eyes. "Come on, it's just college. I've been there a thousand times before."

"Aye," Loki agreed softly, taking my arm in his… He pushed something over my fingertips, pulling it up my bare arm (I was wearing a t-shirt despite the cold, as it would be much warmer on Earth). I looked down; the elbow-length, fingerless black glove that I'd set aside with the rest of my outfit this morning now fit on my hand, covering the scars on the inside of my forearm. Loki pushed it higher up on my arm, making certain that the letters of his name were entirely hidden by the cloth. His red eyes looked down at me with a mixture of concern and apathy. "But never like this."

I flushed, my cheeks turning pink. It was a stupid mistake. A rookie move. I should've been smarter than that. But I forced my eyes up to his, forced myself to meet his gaze, sternly and defiantly. He might have been the king of Jotunheim, but I was still an Earth girl all the way; and I did what I wanted. "I will be fine." I repeated, emphasizing each word. I tugged the glove up higher, though it was unnecessary. "Honestly. I can handle myself."

He did not look entirely convinced, but he let me turn away again. "And if you have an… 'episode'?" He asked. I concealed a wince. I'd been having 'episodes' quite frequently, of late. Times when I just… lost it. Where I stared into space, stared at nothing. Sometimes I'd scream. Sometimes I'd run. But most of the time, I'd just sit there and stare, and nothing that anyone said would get through to me, nothing that anyone would do… unless they came up behind me, or tried to touch me. Then someone might lose a limb or two.

But I'd been tortured for four months; I think I'm allowed to have a psycho moment from time to time.

"Then I should leave the classroom and put my headphones on until it goes away," I recited. "And if anyone bugs me about it, I should hide out in the bathroom instead."

"And if you can't leave?"

It was a fair enough question. Most of the time, I couldn't even move.

"Then you'll be in my head, and you'll come get me: or send one of the Avengers to do it instead." I again recited, letter for letter. Turning to him, I smirked. "Okay, mother?"

He scowled. I chuckled quietly, but put a more serious undertone in my voice as I stepped towards him, putting a reassuring hand on his arm. "Loki, it's the first college semester since you took over." I was sure to be very, very delicate about the way I said that. Him 'taking over' was still a very touchy issue. No one had been happy when Loki was King of Earth for those four months, least of all Loki himself. He hadn't changed much of the planet while he was there, spending a majority of his time locked up in Stark Tower, but it was still a sore spot for everyone. And while he was now trying to move past that, even accepting his role as a King on another world, and trying to do it better this time… It was still a rough patch. "Everyone's bound to be a little shell shocked," I went on. "I'm not going to be the only person in the place with a few hiccups in their psychology, all right?" I looked him in the eye. "And I'm sure the teachers will understand: they went through it, too."

As worry continued to tug his lips downwards and make creases in his forehead, I took his collar in both hands carefully. "Everything will be okay," I reassured him again. "I just…" I sighed quietly, looking away from his face at last, running my hand down his chest, over to his arm, down to his hand, and taking his blue hand into my own. Tracing patterns into his palm, I said, "I know that I'm never going to live anything like a normal human life. But… I'd like to live a little bit of one. I want to have somewhere to go to when I need to get away from the craziness of my… other life. When I need to get away from the stress of… well, ruling." I looked up at him. We had not been engaged for long and planned to be engaged for far longer, before we got married… but that didn't stop the fact that, someday, I'd be the queen of Jotunheim. The old me- the more human me- could never have done it. Could never have lived with the pressure. But the me that I was now… well, let's just say that I was used to playing games with worlds.

But it was still nice to remember, every once in a while, that I was still human: and not just the 'Shadowslayer.'

The name shivered through me, and I pushed it aside, looking to Loki. "I can handle this," I said, as resolutely as I could manage. "And quite frankly, there's not a lot you can do to stop me."

This time, both of his eyebrows went up. His eyes danced, as they sometimes did when I outright challenged him like this. "There's quite a great deal that I could do," he corrected me, gripping my chin in his thumb and forefinger firmly. The bruises that had run along my jaw line a month ago had healed by now, however, so it didn't hurt in the slightest. "If you forced my hand." His tone gained a shade of an ominous threat that I didn't listen to, because it was a lie and we both knew it.

I smiled at him slyly. "Then it seems my hand would also have to be forced," I said, leaning forwards abruptly, closer to him, pressing my lips against his. He was, briefly, caught off guard; but when he sorted his thoughts together again, he found that he didn't care enough, anyway. His arms wrapped around me, holding me in place, and he leaned down to accommodate our height difference. After a moment, we broke apart, and I rested my head on his chest, sighing with a mixture of happiness and melancholy.

Loki ran his fingers through my hair, brushing it away from my face. "There is always next semester," he reminded me quietly.

He was right. And for a moment, I was tempted to just say 'screw it', turn around, and stay on this world of ice with my Frost Giant fiancée for a few more months, forgetting about my home entirely.

Instead, however, I pulled myself out of his arms, shaking my head. "No. If I don't go now, I won't be able to force myself to go later. It's gotta be now."

There was a knock on the doors. Loki and I turned as one, and he glanced to me before letting me slip out of his arms and turning towards the door, opening it to reveal Steprin. The Giant was tall, even for a Giant, so that even on one knee as he currently was, he looked imposing. After the battle with Fraye, which had killed the former Captain of the King's Guard, Steprin had accepted the position as a tenuous replacement until someone better could be found. We hadn't found one better yet, and I knew we never would.

"My apologies, your majesty," Steprin said, not raising his eyes from the ground. "But you are needed at the west perimeter of the palace."

Loki knew that Steprin wasn't one to go and fetch the king every time there was a minor spat, so urgency immediately began to buzz through his veins. Still, he shot one final, worried look in my direction.

"Frost…?" he asked quietly.

"Go," I prodded, waving him off with one hand. "You're needed."

He swallowed, but nodded and turned back to Steprin. His voice immediately falling into a more authoritative tone, he ordered the other Giant, "Show me."

Steprin stood and led his king out of the room as I watched. Still, as he left, Loki's voice whispered in my mind, Be careful.

Always am, I chimed in cheerily. I turned back to the portal, which had shimmered into a different color with no sound; and nothing more than a hint of light to show that it had done so. I took a deep breath, tightening the straps of my backpack on my shoulders until they started to cut into my skin.

Without giving myself too long to think it over, nor to begin doubting myself, I stepped inside.

When I emerged on Earth, feeling a little dizzy, Tony locked the portal. I rubbed my head, trying to clear away the blinding pain that always shot behind my eyes whenever I went through the portal. As with most magic/science blends, it still had a lot of kinks.

Tony slouched to the side, taking me in. But he didn't say anything. He usually didn't these days. It had been three weeks since Loki had proposed to me, and Stark still refused to talk to either of us, unless it was for absolute emergencies. Thankfully, we'd managed to avoid those for a while. Which, considering who we were talking about, was actually pretty impressive.

Banner was also waiting on the other side. He beamed at me as I crossed the room, sweeping me into a swift hug. "Hey, Natalie," he greeted me. "Been a while."

Though I'd been popping by Stark Tower to take care of a few human problems now and then, it had been about a week since the last time I'd seen him-or any of my fellow Avengers- long enough for us to properly talk. In fact, most of the Avengers were pretty much dispersed at the moment: the last time we'd all been together in one place had been Loki's coronation.

It had been the single proudest moment of my life, watching that crown being lowered onto Loki's head. I'd been given a seat of honor nearby, as had all of my teammates, Odin, and any worlds leaders who had attended. We were close enough to see the expression on Loki's face, but that didn't mean that any of us could comprehend it. Even I would have been baffled by it, if I wasn't in his head at all times, knowing precisely what he was feeling: fear, ecstasy, determination, desperation to prove himself worthy of this crown… the poor guy had been overwhelmed. But I had been there, in the sidelines, beaming away; and reassuring him that he could, indeed, do this. That he had nothing to worry about. That he would be a great king.

I pushed the memory aside as I grinned at Bruce, shrugging. "Well, come and visit sometime," I told him. "Just… wear a jacket."

He snorted, then changed the subject. "So, first day of school?"

"Yup," I answered, tightening the straps of my backpack again.

"You nervous?"

I gave him a look, putting one hand on my hip. "Brucey, dear, I faced off with the Daughter of Darkness herself. Going into a building full of rowdy college kids that have no powers, no abilities, and are most certainly not from another planet? I'm not nervous." I shuddered theatrically. "I'm downright terrified."

Bruce barked out a laugh. Even Tony cracked the tiniest of smiles, though he turned away quickly so I couldn't see it. To be honest, I thought he was really overreacting about this whole 'marriage' thing. The Avengers had taken the announcement of my engagement with varying degrees of grace: Tony with the least and, of course, Banner with the most. Which was a very, very good thing; we had all worried about what would have happened if our resident Hulk-Man had taken things badly.

Clint had been okay with it, even if he had mentioned that we were moving a little… quickly. (Seeing as Loki and I had only been an official 'couple' for about a week beforehand.) Natasha hadn't really seemed to have an opinion, though I knew she did and simply didn't voice it. Thor had been… overjoyed, grinning from ear to ear for almost three days straight. Tony, of course, was giving me the silent treatment, Bruce had congratulated me quietly, and Steve…

Well, Steve.

The thought of the Soldier's reaction prickled down my fingertips, and I was forced to push it aside. But it was in my brain and it wouldn't budge. Steve had been fairly open, all things considered, and he'd smiled stiffly at us both, giving us quiet congratulations… but he'd been giving us the cold shoulder almost as badly as Stark ever since. Granted, he was currently on a mission for S.H.I.E.L.D., helping to rebuild the world again after Loki's attack… but he still had a few means of communication that he didn't seem entirely keen on using.

I fought a sigh- and my growing feelings of resentment and rejection- as I said goodbye to Banner and Stark and left the Tower. Despite the fact that I never used to see the other Avengers all too frequently even in the old days (the Tower was a fairly large place, after all) it still felt oddly… empty, with only the science boys inside of it. But the spies and the Soldier were out on various cleanup missions, Thor was tending to his princely duties on Asgard, Loki was acting as King in Jotunheim… heck, even I had moved out. I probably should have felt worse for Bruce and Tony than I did for myself; after all those months of having everyone there at all times, the Tower must have seen like an even larger place than ever. Bigger and emptier.

I sighed and headed to the black motorcycle that I still kept in Tony's garage: my bike, the 'Frost-Cycle.' I wondered vaguely if I would change the name once I got married…. And decided against it. 'Laufeyson-Cycle' just didn't have the same ring to it.

I paused for a moment before kicking the stand off the ground and revving the engine. 'Once I got married'. It sounded so clinical, so easy, so simple and sterile. It wasn't.

I drove out into the street, the helmet on my head and the leather jacket wrapped around me keeping out the worst of the wind; but the black leather made me bake in the sunlight. It wasn't weather I was used to anymore, and it made me feel overheated and stuffy. But that wasn't the only reason I felt choked, I knew.

I loved Loki. I knew I'd love him forever. That much wasn't even in question: and heck, if we did fall out of love, it wasn't as though I had any other options besides him. But this was still moving very quickly and, though I knew the reasons, and though I knew that we were likely going to be engaged for a long time beforehand, I still felt… stifled. I could practically feel a collar tightening around my neck as the days ticked onwards. I didn't resent Loki for it, not in the slightest, and I didn't feel like he'd 'tie me down' or anything… In fact, I had always wanted to get married. Always wanted a husband and kids and the whole deal. I was a bit of a family-oriented person, after all.

But the fact stood that the Loki that I'd fallen in love with and the Loki who'd fallen in love with me in return were two entirely different people. And while it was a definite improvement for the better (after all, this one wouldn't sentence me to be tortured by our worst nightmare for the rest of my life), it was still a change. And I wanted… time. I just wanted time to understand him, to know him better…

I snorted to myself as I turned a corner, keeping my focus on the road. I knew the man's every secret, knew every thought that ever went through his mind.

And I still wanted to know him better?

You're thinking too much again, Natalie, I told myself, as I made it to my old college campus and pulled into the parking lot. There was a place to chain my bike, and I did so, pulling my jacket off and tucking it into my backpack. How did other humans stand this heat? How did I used to feel… comfortable here?

When did I start to hate summer so much? I queried silently of no one as I checked the schedule that I'd printed a few days back. I'd gotten here early, so that I could explore the campus, but I'd been here before; and all of the room numbers were familiar to me. Still, just to be on the safe side, I started walking towards where my first class would be. I didn't have too many classes- only about three- and they would only be on a few days of the week. Besides, if things got too hectic, they could always be dropped. I just hoped I could get through one semester without another world-ending catastrophe. Considering my luck, it wasn't likely.

No, I ordered firmly, shoving that thought aside. Positive thinking. I'm going to make it. I'm going to get a freaking degree, earn that damn job that S.H.I.E.L.D. gave me, and end up as a Queen to boot. My tense stance relaxed as, wryly, my thoughts continued, Not that I didn't earn that job at S.H.I.E.L.D. already…

"Natalie!" A voice called from my left; I didn't immediately jump five feet into the air and pull out a knife, which was a good sign. Another good sign was the fact that I didn't have my knife with me in the first place. I mean, it wouldn't have been smart to carry that around everywhere, but I still felt extraordinarily uncomfortable without it. But I had my force field. That was stronger than any blade. It was irrational to trust the knife over that.

But it had still helped.

I turned to the voice. A person waved me down from a short distance away; I smiled to myself, releasing a breath I hadn't realized that I was holding, as I saw the blonde hair and overloud jewelry of one of my old school friends: Jade.

I waved back, walking up to her as she sped-walked towards me. She hugged me quickly, briefly, smiling at me as she held me out at arm's length. "It's so good to see you again! I thought for sure you wouldn't show this semester!"

Well, at least she hadn't thought that I was dead, like Benny had. That was an improvement.

"I mean, Ben told us that you weren't dead," she continued.

Ah.

"But he said you looked like you'd been through some serious crap during Loki's reign." Her features rearranged into a look of pity. It burned, for some reason. I wasn't used to people pitying me anymore: the only people who still 'pitied' me for the stuff I'd been through were my parents. The Avengers didn't pity me: they didn't dare. And those who'd been tortured themselves just saw me as another comrade in arms. S.H.I.E.L.D. certainly didn't pity me: they were still pissed that I'd put the needs of the nine realms over the needs of my own planet. Loki didn't pity me: he just grew ever more resolved that it would never happen again. And the other Jotuns and Asgardians respected me far too much to pity me.

I brushed this aside and thought on Jade's words as opposed to her expression. So Benny had spoken about how I looked… but said nothing about the scars that I'd accidentally shown to him. That was something.

"And Adrian said he's not coming back for a while, so I pretty much figured you'd do the same," Jade was still babbling, an unceasing river of words that had no end and no way to dam the flow. They just carried on and on forever, until they reached some ocean far away, where all words collected together and flooded the world. "'Cause he didn't even go through all that much as everyone else- didn't lose any family or friends, other than thinking that you were a goner for a while, didn't fight in the revolution, just played along until Loki died-" She didn't notice my wince as she said this, carrying on freely, "And he's barely left the house since! He's going to a shrink and everything!"

The almost deprecating way she said that made my hand shift to my hip, my weight to my right foot. "S'nothing wrong with that," I said evenly. She blinked, seeming surprised that I'd spoken-she was probably even surprised that I was still here- and I laced my next words with the barest trace of poison. "People handle things in different ways: some better than others." Shifting my weight to the other foot and lifting an eyebrow, I added, "And aren't you seeing a shrink, too?"

"Well, yeah, but keep it on the down low," she said, stage-whispering and giving me a wink. I rolled my eyes. Jade, keeping secrets. That was a laugh. Chances were, half the school would know about her visits to a psychiatrist by the end of the day. I'd long ago stopped trusting her with any secrets that I might have.

"You're an idiot, Jade," I said, but I put enough mock-exasperation in the words to sound like I was kidding. I think I was. I couldn't be certain, though. She chuckled quietly.

"Oh, no offense to your future profession, Nat," she said airily, making the hackles on the back of my neck rise up and my teeth grit together. Only two people called me 'Nat': and Jade was not one of them.

"-Alie," I added. "Nat-alie."

"Right," She said, waving her hand. "No offense to your future profession, Natalie, but…" she hesitated. For the first time that day, her words seemed… genuine. Deeper than her usual shallow gossip. "I dunno, I guess it just feels… like I'm being weak, getting someone else to help with my problems," she smiled sheepishly. "You know?" she shrugged. "Plus. I don't like people poking around in my head, you know?"

"You totally shouldn't be friends with me, then," I warned her. "Poking in heads is a hobby of mine."

She sighed theatrically. "Yes, well, that's the price I pay for having friends." She gave me a swift smile and slugged my shoulder. "Can I see your schedule?"

I showed it to her. We didn't have any of the same classes, but we did have a few times when we both were free at the same time, but didn't really have enough time to go anywhere off campus; so we could hang out together for a while, if so inclined. Her first one started in a while, so I walked her to the door, said a quick goodbye, and went back on my way. Already, the conversation had almost exhausted me. But I kept my spine straight, slogging onwards determinately. I was not going to let one day of hanging out with norms stress me out.

Still, I didn't think I could face any more 'old friends' before I went to my first morning class, so I walked over to it and, though I was still more than half an hour early, I sat down next to the wall and stuck in my very obvious, very vividly colored headphones, gnawing on some beef jerky as I did so. My stomach growled, though I'd already had a huge breakfast before I'd come here. I was always hungry these days; hence the beef jerky, and the gum in my pocket. A little trick I learned from the Black Widow to keep away the worst of the hunger.

I kept my back to the wall, so that no one could sneak up on me. It would do no one any good to try and surprise me. Still, I kept my eyes open, just in case someone tried; and a while later, when the professor made her way to the classroom, I pulled the headphones out and sat inside, waiting for the class to begin, twiddling my thumbs. Since I was one of the few people who'd arrived so extraordinarily early, I had my choice of seats. I was torn between the one by the door-a close exit was a good advantage, but I didn't like having it behind me, where I couldn't see who entered right away- and the one that was tucked into the back corner of the room- easier to defend, more likely, but I could be quite literally cornered if it came to that. I chose the corner desk; if worse came to worst, I'd make my own exit. I could do that these days.

Over the next fifteen minutes, the classroom filled up fairly quickly; and by the time it started, there were only one or two stragglers. I covertly stuck a piece of gum in my mouth as my stomach started to complain again, though I knew that part of the wrenching pains in my gut was just from nerves.

But, for all of my anxiety, the class passed as the first day always did; syllabus handed out, expectations raised, a few indications given on the professor's teaching style. I could tell immediately that I would never overtly like this teacher; she ran a very strict classroom, with very little tolerance for deviance. I settled back and resigned myself to a long and tiring battle with this particular professor: I mean, after all, I had the Norse god of Mischief in my brain. 'Deviance'? That was my middle name.

Thankfully, this wasn't my psychology class, but rather, my foreign language: Danish. I'd been trying to learn for a few years now, but with all of the interference from first Loki, then Fraye… well, it got complicated. I was taking most of my General Ed classes online, back at home (though I mostly worked on them at the Tower; they didn't exactly have great wifi on Jotunheim), and saved the more 'fun' classes- or at least, the stuff I actually wanted to learn- for on campus.

"Excuse me?"

I looked up from the notes I'd been scribbling (and the little doodles I'd been scribbling in the side of the page) to the professor, who was standing close by and watching me with beady eyes. I carefully maneuvered my arm to cover the doodles on the page. "Yes, you," the professor said, pointing at me. I'd known she was talking to me: her stare was directly on me. She had this look on her face: I'd call it an eagle eye, but there was nothing quite so noble about it, and it was too close to another good friend of mine, who could run circles around this woman. "What's your name?" She asked. Because it was the first day of school and she wouldn't know.

I sighed, knowing from her tone that, on the first day, I was already in trouble. I wondered what I did but decided that, whatever it was, it was giving me a good opportunity to introduce myself to her. She'd have my name memorized soon enough, no matter how many students she taught. Tucking my gum in between my teeth and my cheek, I answered, "Natalie Frost."

"Well, Miss Frost," she said primly. I arched an eyebrow before she could go on: was there or was there not a ring on my finger? I could very well be a 'Missus' for all she knew. But she didn't seem to notice the gesture, carrying on through her words. "I would thank you not to chew gum in my classroom. It's very distracting."

What was I, five? This wasn't grade school. And I knew that I hadn't been chewing with my mouth open or anything; I'd made certain of that. Chewing gum discreetly was a talent of mine these days; so she must have been on the lookout, trying to find some way to assert her own supremacy.

I slouched back in my chair; well, fair enough, it was her classroom, she was allowed. I pulled the gum packet out of my pocket and handed it to her coolly, wordlessly. She seemed startled by the action-and the fact that I didn't just spit out what gum I had- but I made no move to throw away the gum I was chewing. Because, of course, I had prepared for this.

She took the gum packet and nodded once, turning away… I stopped her by saying, "You might want to look at the label."

The label that I'd put on it earlier this week, and on all of the gum packs that I'd intended to take the school. The label that read 'Nicorette' across the entirety of the little paper packaging, with all of the proper logos and nutrition facts and all of it.

I beamed at her. "I think it would be much more distracting if I left the room every fifteen minutes for a cigarette, and came back smelling like an ashtray. Wouldn't you?"

She looked at me, her eyes very cold. I looked back, still smiling. It was almost cute, watching this little norm trying to be intimidating. Like watching my kitty cat trying to maul my toe. And the way she was trying to turn her features to ice; this human wouldn't have known anything about ice. If she had, I would have seen it on her long ago. She handed the packet back to me.

"Very well," She said, stiff and rigid. "But keep it quiet," she ordered, as though I hadn't already been silent before she'd said anything. Holding it between my index and middle finger, I tapped the packet to my forehead and used it to salute her before I tucked it back into my pocket. She glanced around the room, glaring at everyone. A few people had been snickering before she turned. "Anyone else trying to quit?" She demanded.

A few hands went up. She nodded, taking note of them, I was certain. "Everyone else, there will be no gum in this class. Clear enough?"

Sweeping nods throughout the class. The professor went back to the front of the class. A few moments later, as she continued with her lecture on the rules of the classroom, the expectations she set for anyone who wanted a decent grade, and on the many ways you could get yourself kicked out, someone pushed a piece of paper onto my desk. The 'desks' were actually tables, seating about two people to each, and the person beside me slid a note over to me.

I flipped it open casually but secretively, knowing that the professor was keeping her eye on me. It wasn't so difficult; secrecy and espionage weren't new to me. The note inside was written in simple, large-but-neat handwriting. I made a few quick notes about it- a lot could be said from someone's handwriting- and stored them away in my head before I actually read the thing.

You've never smoked, have you?

I glanced to the note-passer. It was a woman, maybe a year or so older than me, with a kind face but sharp eyes, and long, curly, red-brown hair that could get caught in all manner of things if she was ever in a fight. It was the poofy kind of curly, sticking up at all sides of her head, the curls small and tight. She wore a few silver bands on her wrist and her ears were pierced, her face done up with minimal makeup, but a coating of deep, orangy-red lip gloss that actually looked pretty good on her. I grinned and scribbled out, Once, back in high school. I was a very troubled child.

I pushed the note back to her. Yeah, we were probably too old to be passing notes; but with the teacher's sharp eyes on us, talking was definitely out. And I couldn't exactly text her without having her number. Besides, she didn't look like she cared so much if she seemed juvenile or not. Nice excuse, though, the note read when she pushed it back a moment later. I'll have to use it sometime.

I thought back to when the Teacher had asked those who were quitting to raise their hands. She'd been one of them; I remembered because I'd only barely managed to stop the flinch at the sudden movement in the corner of my eye. She thought on her feet, at least. I'm Natalie. You?

Tiff.

Short for 'Tiffany?'

Short for Tiff.

Nice to meet you, Tiff.

And you, Natalie.

She extended her hand to me, and we shook quickly, before the professor could turn to us again. We were forced to crumple the note a few moments later in order to keep the professor from catching us, and when class ended, I tore the 'evidence' into shreds and tossed it in a trash can outside of that classroom. I was being overly paranoid, I knew, but hey, I was a cautious person by nature these days. Tiff smiled at me when we left the room together.

"See ya' round," she said, before turning away. I had a feeling that I'd like her. But I didn't know enough to be certain yet.

Besides, I thought, readjusting my backpack. She was human. She was just another mortal. If it came down to it, she'd break too easily.

Best not to get too attached.

The majority of the day passed without any more noteworthy incidents; though I spent almost every second being highly and intensely aware of everything that was going on-my surroundings, everything the professors said, the students in the classes with me- a majority of that information was deleted within an hour after it had passed. It wasn't relevant, wasn't necessary.

I made it through the next two classes without losing my mind, though my mind was still wracked with tension, despite the dull tedium of day-to-day college life. I didn't meet up with my friends between classes, choosing instead to keep my headphones in my ears and simply stare into nothing. It helped, sometimes, to stare into space when I didn't need to stare into space, to let my mind wander and blank out when it wasn't entirely necessary. It gave my brain a time out before my brain forced one onto me.

I was leaving my last class and heading to the Frost-Cycle when Benny found me.

"Natalie!" I heard his voice call to me, and recognized that it was him long before I turned. It was something I'd been expecting all day, waiting in dread-filled anticipation. Sighing heavily and setting my leather jacket-which I had been about to sling over myself- down on the motorcycle that was just a footstep or two away, I turned around and smiled at him.

"Hey, Benny," I said, as he jogged up next to me, pulling himself to a halt. "What's up?"

He looked at me. His eyes were wide. "What's up?" he demanded. He wasn't out of breath in the slightest, though I'd suspected that he'd been running to catch up to me for a while. But then, he'd had a lot of practice with running. "Are you kidding me right now, Natalie?"

I battled a sigh as he went on, "I mean… you pretty much show up at my house, let me know you're alive, say a few freaky things about how people can change in four months and show off those scars-"

My eyes narrowed as he pointed at my singularly-gloved hand.

"And now you ask what's up?" he demanded.

Hooking my thumb in my backpack strap and leaning my other hand against the Frost-Cycle, I answered, "Pretty much, yes."

He ogled for a moment. Then, quickly, he shook his head, as though he could forcibly dislodge the thought from his brain if he just rattled it around a bit. "But… Natalie… what… what happened to you?"

I bristled. Immediately, a vast majority of whatever energy I had left went into keeping myself calm. Benny was just Benny. He wasn't saying this to be cruel, wasn't trying to dig up the past or poke into dark secrets. He was just doing so unintentionally, that was all.

I struggled for an excuse. My heart twisted as I realized that I had one- and a very good one at that- and that I just didn't like it. But it was a story that would fit along with the one that S.H.I.E.L.D. had fed to the world; and if I didn't follow along with that, well… there could be mayhem. I'd rather have to lie to Benny then have to drag him into my world, kicking and screaming, with no means to protect himself. I'd rather have him clueless than dead.

Resigning myself to the lie, and making my voice as snarky as possible, I gave my once-crush a look. "Well, gee, Benny," I said sardonically, then began ticking things off on my fingers. "I worked for the government. Loki destroyed said government and threw me in prison. Four months later, he's dead and now I have his name carved into my arm. What the hell do you think happened?"

Even as I said the words, with all of my bolstered confidence and undeniable acid, they made my entire body feel bitter and frail. Like they were eating away at me from the inside. It was one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s worst lies, that Loki was dead, when we all knew that he was a hero. But apparently, no one thought that the earth could believe in something so far-fetched as someone 'changing', or feeling 'regret'. What a preposterous notion.

Benjamin winced. "So… it was him?" he asked quietly. "Loki… he…" he lowered his voice, as though there was anyone around to hear. "He tortured you?" the word 'tortured' was almost a squeak.

I looked away and didn't respond. No matter how much I was going along with the lie, I couldn't bring myself to actually say as much, to actually affirm his statement. I didn't have to. Benjamin ran his hand through his hair, pulling it back from his forehead as he cursed in a soft breath.

"Are you… are you okay?" he asked, then backtracked quickly at the look I gave him. "Right, stupid question, of course not, but… damn, Natalie. That's… that's some hardcore shit."

"Yah think?"

He looked to me. Again, there was pity in a friend's eyes, and again, it burned. I was Natalie Frost, the Shadowslayer, the future Queen of Jotunheim. I was not pitied. "Do you… I mean, do you need to talk about it?"

"I can talk to my fiancée," I replied acerbically. He flinched.

"Come on, Natalie. Don't snap my head off here, I'm just… just trying to be your friend. I don't know what you want me to do, here."

I chewed on the inside of my lip as I thought that over. He was right. I was being cruel. Taking a deep breath and letting it out in a sigh that still tasted like mint- seeing as I'd chewed about three or four packs of gum this morning alone- I half raised my hands. "You're right, you're right… I'm sorry." I looked away. "I just… really don't want to talk about it. I just want to let the past be the past, y'know? And… it's really hard to do that if other people know about it."

He nodded slowly, still with that stinging sympathy in his eyes. "Yeah… okay, I get that. But…" he rested a hand on my shoulder. "I'm here if you need to talk. If you don't, fine, I'll never say another word about it. But if you do… I'm here."

I smiled weakly at him. "Thanks, Benny."

He nodded once, pulling his hand away. There was a beat of silence that was intensely awkward before he changed the subject swiftly, though not altogether smoothly. "Congrats, by the way," he said, gesturing to my left hand. "I guess… well, you said he's your fiancée, now, so…"

Crap. That was a really bad way of announcing the big news. I flushed a bright pink, lifting the ring up to eye level. "Yeah, he proposed a few weeks ago," I agreed.

"Well, I'm happy for you," he said, and he managed to keep a vast majority of the wistfulness out of his tone. Benny had once asked me out, after all; and, as far as he knew, if he'd asked me out a few days sooner, then maybe things could have gone a lot differently. But he was still casual, laid-back Benny; and he was letting things go.

There was another awkwardly silent moment. Finally, he glanced at his phone, checking the time. "Well, I've gotta go," he said, then turned to me. "I guess I'll see you around?"

"Sure thing," I answered, giving him a swift hug. I couldn't turn away fast enough, though I forced myself to do so at a more leisurely pace, and to put on my jacket with methodical slowness. Then I pulled on my helmet, sat on the bike, revved the engine, and got the heck outta Dodge.

It was only about two o'clock by now, and there were still a few things I wanted to take care of before I went back 'home', so I didn't head straight for the Tower. First thing was first: I drove up to my parents' house, parked the bike in the driveway, and was about to knock on the door when I saw the note half-tucked into the welcome mat. It was, amazingly, encoded; but my parents had taught me this particular code, a simple number that was easily cracked if one had time. But they had other, more secure ones; ones that they didn't teach me, well aware that Loki would know if I did. They'd been the leaders of the revolution against him for far too long to trust him with that kind of secret.

I was torn about this display of my parents' paranoia. Part of me identified with it whole-heartedly, and made me feel more connected to them; like we really were a family. But the other part of me despaired at the loss of the people they once were, when they could see the world as a good, safe place.

I decoded the note in my head.

Back soon, your father had a doctor's appointment. Love you. –Mom.

I rolled my eyes and fished my keys out of my backpack, unlocking the front door and walking inside. I was immediately assaulted by a barrage of fur that jumped up on top of me and did everything within its power to push me to the ground.

"Woah! Chill out, Jekyll!" I said, laughing, pulling the dog's paws off of me and setting him down on the ground. His tail wagged ferociously, and as I knelt down to his eye level, he quickly got to work on licking every inch of my face. I closed my eyes and screwed up my features, waiting him out. It was gross, but he was family. After a moment, I pulled away so that I could bury my face in his fur.

"Yeah, I missed you, too, fluff ball," I said. My parents had been taking care of Jekyll and Hyde for me since I'd moved to Jotunheim. A few allowances had been made to accommodate the king's fragile human, but it would take a while before something could be set up to help the fragile human's even more fragile pets to survive the cold winter world.

Hyde's reception was not so warm. The kitten had grown a little bigger in the three weeks since I'd gotten her, but not by a lot. Caramel-amber eyes narrowed into slits, she watched me from a few feet away for a moment, then returned her attention to licking her white left paw. I smiled at the kitten; at the very least, she was looking healthier these days. No longer so thin and sickly, she was still downright adorable; but her time on the streets had left her more hardened inside than a few good meals could fix.

I was still on my knees, with Jekyll prancing around me, and so I crawled over the few steps towards the kitten, scratching her behind the ears carefully. She had a few dots of white in the fur behind her ears, something I hadn't noticed until almost a week ago, but now found to be the cutest freaking thing in the whole freaking world. She allowed me to show affection only after she had sniffed my hand, rubbed her cheeks against my fingertips, and returned to her paw-washing. I kissed her quickly on the top of the head once she began to purr. Jekyll butted his big, cold nose in between my eyes, trying to get my attention back on him.

Laughing to myself, I stood, washed my face off, and then headed to the kitchen. There was a sandwich sitting on the table beneath a napkin, which sent a rush of nostalgia through me. My mom used to always have something for me after school, when I lived with her, even after I started going to college. She couldn't cook worth a damn, but the occasional sandwich, she managed. At the time, I'd been so keen on moving out that I barely noticed this. Now… well, I found myself missing my mother sometimes.

Not that I'd ever move back. I shuddered. That idea was a horror in and of itself.

I fed the animals, then ate as well, checking out the window once I was finished to see if my parents were back yet. They weren't, so I pulled my cell phone out of my pack and took care of my other item of business for the day.

The number was a direct line given only for emergencies or VIPs. I'd say I was definitely in the latter category. There were two rings before a curt voice answered, "What is it, Frost?"

I smiled, heading to the couch in the living room, plopping down and kicking my feet up. "Satisfied with the information you got today, Fury?" I asked in what was almost a coo. Hyde crawled up my leg and settled into her usual position on my lap. She did this not out of affection, but the simple need to keep warm; and she frequently reminded me of this fact by stretching out and sticking her butt in my face. She liked to use me as a piece of furniture; and she was small enough that I didn't mind. Jekyll hopped up on the couch next to us, and Hyde-slitting one eye open- batted him reflexively with sheathed claws.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," Fury answered brusquely.

"No?" I asked, my voice bright and peppy. "So that blonde girl with the birthmark on her wrist, the one who was wearing the blue top today? She wasn't one of yours?" My eyes danced, though it was a performance that Fury wouldn't see. "What about that professor in room 12-B? The brunette? He wasn't yours either, hmm?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that fact," Fury answered, though I could hear the wry, almost-smile in his tone.

"Uh-huh. Tell your agents to ease up a little; I'm sure there are others. But I'm not exactly planning a hostile takeover, here."

"We can't be sure of that anymore."

"I'm still on your payroll, aren't I?"

"Do you honestly think we trust any of the people who are on our payroll?"

I chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it." I was silent for a beat, then, because I knew that this was the real reason those agents had been there, I said, "Thanks for looking out for me, Director."

"Behave yourself," was his only response, as though I were a child needing to be told off. And then he hung up. I snickered to myself as I turned the phone off. As exhausting as my interactions with the Avengers, the spies, and other political figures could be, these days, I found them strangely… refreshing, when compared to the dance of a normal, daily social life.

I pulled my engagement ring off, stashing it in my pocket and stroking Hyde with closed eyes, feeling extraordinarily exhausted. It had been a long day; and definitely not the greatest of times to break the news to my parents: which I still hadn't done, three weeks after the proposal. I sighed deeply, then shifted on the couch and placed my head on Jekyll, using him as an overtly fluffy pillow. I was careful in shifting Hyde to my stomach, where she dug her claws into my shirt and hissed until I settled down. Petting her steadily again, I tried to think of when, exactly, the 'right time' would be to tell my parents. Another few months, maybe, so that it looked like we'd been 'together' for a while beforehand? No, I couldn't risk the idea that someone might let something slip, and they'd discover it by themselves. The only thing worse than me being engaged to my parents' worst enemy would be me lying to them about it.

They arrived soon afterwards. My father was chuckling at a joke my mother had made. A few moments later, the latter called out, "Natalie! Are you here yet?"

"In the living room!" I called back, not opening my eyes. Hyde was purring on my stomach, and Jekyll half asleep beneath my head. Combined, the two were a lovely- and incredibly powerful- sedative, and I was having a hard time opening my eyes and appearing awake.

"Oh, there's my girl!" My mom said chirpily as she entered the room, holding her arms out wide. I rolled my eyes and stood, placing Hyde on the couch, and wrapped her in a hug as she hugged me back, kissing me on the forehead. "It's been so long, we never see you anymore!"

My parents had not been at the coronation; so the last time that I'd had an opportunity to talk with them without too much interruption had been a few weeks back. Cameron entered the room a few moments later, and I hugged him quickly, trying to break ribs.

"Hey, mom. Hey, dad." The word 'dad' was no longer the struggle it used to be. Cameron was my father and I loved him. He was family; and all of those terrible things he'd done, he'd been forced to do. It wasn't his fault.

Besides, if I could forgive Loki for handing me over to a psycho, shadow-bitch, I could forgive my dad for saying a few hurtful things.

(And it wasn't as though those things were entirely untrue.)

"How'd the doctor's appointment go?" I asked Cameron. He shrugged.

"Clean bill o'health," he answered. As I smiled slyly, he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, so that boyfriend of yours isn't totally worthless. Don't rub it in."

I chuckled quietly, ruffling my dad's hair. The lesions in his brain had gone away and stayed away, after Loki interceded.

"How was school?" my mother asked; the hated question that parents asked every day until you felt like you might puke if you heard those syllables again.

"School," I answered, with the hated response that I'd been using steadily over the years in order to wear her down in the same way. At her sour look, I grinned and waved a hand about. "Ah, it was okay. I saw Benny and Jade; they're doing pretty good." I left out the part about what Benny had seen, what we had said to each other. I didn't find it altogether necessary that they know. I tried to think of more information that I felt comfortable giving. "The classes were all right, the professors aren't half bad… though there's this one…" I grinned, shaking my head. "Woo. We're gonna tango, I can tell you that right now."

"Why?" My mother asked. "What's the problem?"

"She's a bit… over controlling," I answered. "Not really what you'd call 'flexible.'"

And she's way too freaking normal, I thought, somewhere in the privacy of my own skull, where my parents could not hear it. Being mostly 'normal' themselves, they wouldn't understand that it wasn't a slight against humanity; just a laugh at the fact that someone like that could try so desperately hard to have total power over everyone they had in their grasp. That she was so human that she still thought she had to have everything under her constant control. I knew what real 'power' was, I stood against it all the time, I stood beside it all the time, and if she knew what it did to a person to have that kind of control, that kind of raw power, she would shun it forever. But some people just didn't learn.

Besides, by the time you learned to shun power, it was way too late. Either you needed it to survive or you became addicted to it, but either way you were entirely under its control. I was pretty sure that I both needed and was addicted to it, so I was doubly screwed.

"What a shame," my mother mused quietly.

My parents probed me for every detail of my life that had occurred while I was gone, while I asked them a few questions of my own… but eventually, a few hours later, I told them that I should be getting back; and, kissing them both goodbye, and giving Jekyll and Hyde a hug for the road, I got the Frost-Cycle again and headed towards Stark Tower.

I made sure to pass my old house on the way. My father's old place that he'd passed to me, it had burnt to the ground during Loki's rule, and was being rebuilt now. It was odd, how little I mourned the place. Loki had saved my sketchbooks, but everything that was really of 'value' to me had been in the Tower at the time. Not that I valued a lot these days; and my few possessions were relatively sparse. My life had become very… Spartan.

I drove back to the Tower. Banner was there to 'unlock' the portal for me this time, and Loki, on the other side, sent someone to unlock it from that end once I informed him that I was entering the Tower. Stark was nowhere to be seen and was, apparently, still brooding.

I slid my engagement ring back onto my finger just as I stepped through, back to the cold realm of Jotunheim.

Loki wasn't there to meet me, but I hadn't expected him to be. He was in the middle of something important, his kingly duties, and so I merely wandered the palace alone. I went to our quarters and changed clothes swiftly, into the warmer garments I needed to survive on Jotunheim. But, regardless of this feature which further separated me from the Frost Giants, I still held my head high and acted as though I had every reason and right to be wherever I was; and, in truth, I did.

It had been the strangest thing, to learn that the Jotuns were entirely unsurprised by the fact that Loki and I were engaged. That it had, in fact, been assumed that this was the case. Half of the reason Loki had proposed was so that he could be certain that no one would try and split us apart; but, as it turned out, no one wanted to. They'd known that Loki and I were a package deal; and there had been many who had boldly claimed before crowds of their peers that they would be proud to serve under the Shadowslayers, regardless of whether or not one of them was human.

But there were others who were not so enthusiastic about our reign. Namely, a member of the council that had been convened to appoint the new king. I still didn't know his name (which really showed how seriously I took him), but practically the instant I'd walked onto Jotunheim, he'd greeted me with a very… different welcome.

It had been after the coronation, after Loki's announcement of our eventual marriage. There was a feast to celebrate the coronation, and everyone had been in attendance; even Thor and the Avengers. The giant in question had approached me with serious red eyes and told me, quite flatly, "I respect the King. I respect that you are the Shadowslayer. And if you were to wed, you would be the Queen, and I would serve you and his majesty as loyally as any of your subjects." His hands had clenched in fists at his sides. He had towered over me, like all giants, tall and imposing. But as I had looked back at him flatly, the petty hate in his eyes had made him seem very small. "But you are human. And you will never be my Queen."

I would've let it slide with nothing more than a bemused smile and a 'sorry you feel that way', but his next words had made my spine prickle. "And whatever… half-breed creatures that you might produce… No matter my loyalty, they will never be fit for the Jotun throne."

The way he said it made me certain that, if he dared to go on, he might have added something about me 'polluting the royal line forever'. Now, Loki and I weren't even thinking about kids yet, not even close, but for some reason, I'd become immediately defensive about whatever children I might have in future days. I was not the only one; those Jotuns around me at the time, who had grit their teeth or clenched their fists or clutched their weapons as the Jotun first began talking, now stood, rising in my defense. It had only been Loki's careful hand in front of them that had held them back, and they had all looked to him, startled that he would let his would-be-Queen's honor to be so besmirched, and not allow them to step in. Indeed, startled that he hadn't stepped in himself.

But Loki knew that I'd wanted the little weasel for myself. And so the Jotun soldiers were held back. I'd seen a brief flash of fear in the Giant's eyes as the others leapt forwards to shut him up, but now he looked at me in dark, smug triumph; as though I were proving his point for him by letting him live past that.

Carefully setting down what silverware that had been in my hands at the time, I pushed away from the table and stood, each movement slow and even. And then I'd smiled at him. And then I said seven words. Seven words that batted back his, that nullified his every deed and thought and word and action. Seven words that put me back in power again.

Standing against him, with a few feet of height difference between us, I looked at him and asked, "You are a small one, aren't you?"

The world had fallen silent. Even those fairly far away from this conversation had gotten very quiet, trying to hear our interaction. Shaking my head, I'd sighed deeply and continued. "A snake is a snake, no matter its skin; and I've seen serpents that slither less obviously than you. And mortals that speak with less poisoned words."

Tilting my head to the side, I'd looked at him. "If, because I am mortal, my deeds as a Shadowslayer are so easily dismissed, and Fraye herself was not such a threat-" I saw Jotuns flinching at her name, as they always did. Even dead, she commanded fear. "Then tell me why I never saw you, an immortal, at the battle? Nor why I see no scars on you today?" I stepped up to him. "Were you on the fringes of the war, fleeing its heart? Or were you simply too busy telling me and the 'mortal' Avengers that we did not belong there to do any fighting of your own?" I shook my head, chuckling quietly. "You did not seem so against my help at the time. Why is it so different now?"

I took a step back, hands outspread and palms up, almost placating, but in the most denigrating, most condescending way that I knew how. "If we wed and I become Queen, then I can only hope to honor this planet as well as it has honored me," I gestured to those around me, nodding a few times to those who were seated and watching us. Thor and the Avengers, nearby, were watching with varied degrees of interest, and I saw Stark and Clint laying bets. None of them looked overtly surprised at the words that I was saying, but I was pretty sure most of them were egging me on nonetheless. "And if I do have children, no matter their heritage and no matter their stature, my only hope is that I can teach them to not be quite so small inside as you." I turned a sharp gaze back to the once-councilman. My lip quirked upwards in a smirk. "But, given the circumstances, I'm fairly certain that is a goal easily achieved."

The other Jotuns had been settling into their seats, though a few were still tensed, watching the other man. Many were smiling viciously. Loki had smug triumph flooding his eyes, but his face seemed relatively unsurprised and expressionless. The Jotun took a moment to process all of the accusations and insults that I'd thrown at him, but he was quick; only a few seconds later, and anger was burning in his eyes. It was the kind of uncontrolled rage that made him move forwards without thinking, taking a step towards me that was very distinctly threatening.

Immediately, the other Jotuns were rising again, Loki included; but I got there first. Barely a breath after the giant had moved, I had stepped towards him, my force field flickering into life and a glow spreading across my skin. In two swift, unerring steps, I was behind him, moving with an inhuman grace and speed as I ducked beneath his arms, gripped one of them, and twisted it behind his back. It would have been difficult to do with our height difference, but with one bad blow from a sharpened edge of the shield, I'd kicked the back of his knees, the razor blade of the force field drawing blood. He'd fallen to his knees with me still twisting his arm upright, and, in a heartbeat, I'd cut power to the shield and pulled Natasha's throwing knife from my belt, pressing it up against his throat.

The entire 'fight' took a total of five seconds, maybe less. But the shock of it trembled throughout the air. No one spoke. I think I was the only one that was still breathing. Even the Avengers were watching with wide eyes or raised eyebrows. After a few seconds, I saw Tony slide a ten dollar bill across the table with his index finger, over to Clint.

The silence lingered in the frigid air for a long moment. And then I'd leaned in close to the Jotun's ear. Though I brought my voice down to a whisper, it still carried on the howling winds, echoing and ethereal and haunting.

"I know a lot about pain," I told him in a soft voice. "I learned from the best." I traced the very edge of the blade across his skin, so that he would feel the cold steel, but it wouldn't pierce skin. If this kind of knife could even harm an immortal. Meh, it still looked menacing.

"And if you speak to me, of me, or of whatever children that I might have in this manner, ever again… then I may have to show you exactly what those lessons taught me." I brought the blade even closer, my face closer still. "Are we understood, sir?"

He swallowed. I could feel the bob of his Adam's apple against the knife. But he nodded quickly, and choked out, "Aye, m'lady."

I released him, kicking him in the back to propel him forwards. He landed in the snow and immediately crawled away, pulling himself back to his feet despite the bleeding on the back of his knees. I plopped back down in my seat and looked to Tony and Clint with exaggerated innocence.

As everyone watched me, I ignored them and asked Barton, "Who won?"

He wasted no time falling into the same careless pattern that I did. "Who else?" Clint asked, grinning, seeming at ease with all eyes on him. He flicked through a few bills, then stashed them in his pocket. "Knew you wouldn't let him get away with anything less than a bruise."

I'd smiled, and, eventually, tense conversation started again. A Jotun or two congratulated me on the way I'd handled the situation, but for the most part any admiration for what I'd done was kept silent. I saw it in many, many eyes, though; almost as if people were beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, this mortal might make a decent queen after all.

Loki had slid his arm around my shoulder, holding me just briefly before nodding to me once and releasing me. It wasn't what I would have done, in the old days.

Times had changed.

But now, as I walked in the palace, looking for something to do while waiting for Loki to be finished with his kingly business, I pushed the memory from my mind. As I said, I didn't even remember the name of that giant; and he was not the only one who didn't like me. Though a majority of Jotunheim had accepted me, and some did like me; so that was a start.

I sighed to myself as I headed towards the center area of the palace reserved for its head mages: though I knew that they wouldn't be there. Sigil and Avalon, I had never realized before, were, in fact, the most powerful mages in Jotunheim; but no matter that rank, they preferred their more humble accommodations in the center of the city, practicing their magic where every other mage did. They preferred it there, closer to their studies, and rarely returned to their quarters here. It was a magic thing, Loki and I knew from experience; after all, he always came more alive whenever he was around the library, or involved in his own work. We left them to their devices.

Still, I had hoped to see them. I wasn't certain why, but I liked to check up on the two mages every so often. Just in case.

But, as usual, they were not there. But, as I stepped up to the door to knock, I realized that someone else was.

I heard a long stream of curses from the other side of the door, a flowing torrent that had a nice head of steam to it, a buildup that had likely been going on for a while. I listened carefully, with raised eyebrows. Whoever it was, something had gone pretty dang wrong.

But there was something off about it, something that didn't… fit. It took me a long moment before I realized that a majority of these curses were not Jotun; they were human.

I frowned. Loki didn't know about any humans arriving here, so it wouldn't have been one of the Avengers. But any other Midgardian besides us would have been considered a trespasser on our world. I stiffened, fists clenching. Well, best to deal with this immediately…but at least I should assess the situation, first. If it was a human, it wouldn't hurt me too badly to lose the advantage of surprise; when one deals with superheroes and immortal aliens, a norm isn't exactly much of a threat.

The cursing had died down, and was now being followed by quiet mutterings; they sounded a little like self-reassurance. I knocked once, making my presence known, then pushed open the door. If it was Sigil (it was a male's voice, so I knew it was not Avalon) then I was sure he'd forgive whatever 'rudeness' this might hold, if I explained the situation. Sigil never really cared for 'politeness'; he showed it to very few, and if anyone showed it to him, he didn't really notice.

I was genuinely surprised to see that the owner of the voice on the other side of the door was, in fact, a Jotun. Blue skin, red eyes, patterns… sure, maybe a little on the short side, but not even close to Loki's or the twins' height. I took him in at a fast glance; he wasn't bald, like a lot of the Jotuns I'd seen, but rather had pitch-black hair, with sharp features and cheekbones almost as narrow as Loki's. He froze at the sight of me, petrifying into place, and I caught sight of the silver-black shackles on his wrists and ankles that marked him as a slave to one of the palace court. Definitely not ours: Loki and I had been working on the whole 'slavery' issue practically the instant since he'd gotten into power. It was amazingly, heartbreakingly slow moving. But then, he had only been here for a week; and there were so many other things we were changing, too.

The Jotun looked up at me, surprised, startled. I lifted an eyebrow at him and relaxed a touch; though my outer body posture relaxed entirely as I leaned against the door jam. "Quite a mouth you've got on you," I said, conversationally.

His red eyes went round. "Ah, shi- erm… you heard… uh, I mean…" he gathered himself together with a few more stutters and bowed quickly. It was only then that I realized how young he was; by Jotun standards, probably an older teenager, in both body and mind (Sometimes those two varied in maturity levels, depending on the immortal). "My apologies, my lady." He swallowed, structuring his sentences very carefully. "I should not have subjected you to such vulgarities."

I grinned. Poor guy probably thought I'd have him killed for that. Some other person might have. Instead, however, I laughed once. "Son, you aren't saying anything I haven't heard before; or anything that I don't say myself on a daily basis." He flinched at the word 'son'; it was probably far too familiar, coming from me, and being said to a slave. I glanced to the glass on the floor that he had been busy clearing away; probably what he'd broken to make him so upset in the first place.

I turned my gaze back to him. He was thin, lanky, with a wiry kind of musculature. It wasn't such an odd trait in a Jotun, but it wasn't all that common, either. As he looked back up to me, I asked, "So what are you doing in here, anyway?"

"Cleaning, m'lady," he answered quickly, keeping his eyes averted. He was shaking. I didn't think that it was from fear, or anger, but I couldn't think of any other reason why he would be. "I was meant to clean out the Mages' quarters, keep it ready for their return." He glanced down at the glass. "There was… an accident. It won't happen again."

"Well, there isn't a remedy for being a klutz yet," I said, still grinning at him. What could I say? I felt bad for the kid. Every time I looked at those cuffs on his wrists, my heart just… burned. Whoever his 'master' was, I just wanted to punch them in the mouth. Granted, I didn't see any lash marks or scars, so they were probably on the kinder side… but that still wasn't good enough. "If there was, I'd have taken it years ago," I went on, rolling my eyes.

Not that I was that klutzy anymore. A few years ago, it was rare for me to go a whole day without tripping on my two feet. Now, if I did that, I'd probably be rushed to the ER. Training with the Avengers had taught me how to place every footstep, to know every surrounding…

He seemed to blush. It was hard to tell with the blue skin. "As I said m'lady; my sincerest of apologies."

"Sheesh, kid, it's only a broken glass." There was a countertop nearby. I jumped up onto it, sitting there but not letting my feet kick out. He must have been stunned by my attitude; and others may have even had their reservations if they saw me this way. But whatever I was going to be on Jotunheim, I was determined to always be me. He looked up to me, as though asking for permission to return to his work, and I waved him off quickly, urging him to do so silently. He turned back to the glass and began to gather it together; it was possible that it had been important, but it was more likely that it had been one of the doodads that Sigil and Avalon kept around to make the place look more mysterious and magical. They had a habit of doing that; I think it was to see who was impressed by the real magic, and who by the fake. A way of weeding out those who pretended to be powerful.

He worked in silence for a moment as I watched him. I saw sweat trickling on the back of his neck as he did so, but he kept his mouth shut. Finally, I asked, "Half or quarter?"

He seemed confused. Turning back to me, but keeping his eyes averted, he asked, "I'm sorry, my lady?"

"Your human side," I elaborated, gripping the edge of the counter so that I could swing my legs back and forth. "You half human, quarter, what?"

He seemed so shocked that, for a second, he forgot his place- which made me happy to see, though I betrayed none of that- and looked up to me, his red eyes meeting mine as they widened. "How did you…?" he asked before he could clamp his mouth shut. Once he realized, he snapped his jaws shut and looked down abruptly.

I smiled at him. "Lucky guess, really. But you were using human curses, human swears. Things that were strictly Midgardian." I swallowed. "That, combined with your height and the…" I glanced to the shackles, and my tone hardened. "General state of things… Well, two plus two is four." I propped my elbow on my thigh and my chin on my hand so that I could lean forwards, closer to him. "So which is it?"

He didn't answer for a long moment. Immediately, I backtracked, "Hey, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to. If I'm prying, forget about it."

The slave shook his head quickly. "No, m'lady." He looked up at me again, this time a little more firmly. "I'm not ashamed of my human heritage. I will not be."

My lip quirked up. "And you shouldn't be," I agreed with him.

He sighed quietly, looking away again, back to the broken glass on the floor. "My mother was human," he said after a second. "I was raised on Midgard for most of my life."

I'd suspected as much. Just because he was human didn't mean that he inherently knew all of our swear words. He carried on, again in a quiet tone, "I returned to Jotunheim after she died."

"And ended up here," I filled in quietly. He nodded twice, and I sighed. "You got a name, kid?"

He swallowed. "Puck."

I lifted an eyebrow, turning to him. "And you were raised on Earth? High school must've been hell."

He laughed quietly. "It was a nickname there," he said, seeming a little more relaxed suddenly. He was a very odd kid, but he was… open. Trusting.

No. No, that wasn't it. Even if he wasn't a slave, I knew he wasn't trusting. It was different from that, something strange and oddly… powerful. He was immediately open and friendly to me and I was immediately open and friendly to him because, in some weird way, I felt like… like I knew the kid from somewhere. Like there was something that tied us together… but I couldn't quite put my finger on what.

"But, it is my name here," Puck went on. "My mother… she liked Shakespeare. So she would sometimes call me that."

Puck. From a Midsummer Night's dream. The meddling Trickster. I fought a little smile. "So what's your real name?"

He shrugged mildly, looking down. "That is my real name now."

The way he said it made my heart do a little twist. Because I got that. I understood that. This kid, a free child of Earth, was now a slave of Jotunheim; and more likely than not, it was because of his blood. The person he was here, on this world, was very different from the person he had been; so why wouldn't his name change as well?

"Yeah, I get that," I said quietly. We were silent for a moment, and Puck returned to his work. When he finished, he turned to me and bowed again, low and deeply. "My apologies, my lady, but… I must return."

I waved him off, watching him sadly. "Go. Do what you have to do." As he turned, I paused, then called, "And kid?"

He looked back.

"Never give up hope. Take it from one who's been there before; it's a very long road back."

There was a strange look on his face as I said this, something that was almost pity, almost sympathy… but was more like… empathy. "Yes, m'lady," he agreed, bowing again, then turned and left the room. No matter how powerful I got, it still made me uncomfortable to see people bowing in front of me.

"Fascinating."

I whirled on the voice, eyes narrowed, immediately assessing threats… but I stopped at the sight of Sigil. He was watching the place where Puck had left. He, like me, looked very… relaxed. Casual. As though this was a simple walk in the park, and he was not speaking to his future Queen. That was something that, I'll admit, I liked about Sigil. He never treated me differently, even after the announcement of my engagement to his king. I knew it was more because he just didn't care that much about power than it was that he liked me, but it was nice nonetheless.

"He's very different around you, that boy," Sigil said, motioning towards where Puck had left. "Not so… defiant."

I looked to him. "Oh?"

He nodded a few times, looking somewhat… distant. Finally, he turned to me, saying, "He vouched for you..." he seemed to catch himself, then smiled wryly and corrected himself with, "Rather, for my King Loki. When the Council convened to decide the fate of Jotunheim's monarchy; he spoke about… honor." Sigil was studying me as he said this. I knew that was why he was giving me this information: to see how I reacted. "That if you were to take the throne beside your affianced, he would serve under you with honor."

I kept my face even and neutral until Sigil looked away, though I was fairly surprised.

"It was a very reckless move, for a slave," Sigil went on. "Many thought he would not survive past it."

My eyebrows furrowed. I wondered why he'd do that, why he would say anything. Granted, I was human; and a human Queen with a Jotun King could do a great deal to assist the half-breeds of this world, whatever few that had survived. But still… even if he hadn't talked, the decision had seemed fairly unanimous. He didn't need to. It wasn't necessary.

I cleared the thoughts from my mind as Sigil told me, "My lady, I must warn you. Half-breed or not… there is something very wrong with that slave." His red eyes were almost pleading. Almost. Sigil was never 'pleading'. "If you value my advice at all, my words in the slightest… I would ask for you not to trust him."

I frowned. Something inside of me rebelled against the words: not trust him? How could I not? We were closer than friends, we were almost blood!

What?

We'd only had the one conversation. How could we be that close so… quickly? How could I feel that way about him with just those few words, said in passing? How could I already care so… deeply about this kid?

The feeling unnerved me, and I found myself nodding at Sigil. I didn't trust the mage, or his words, any further than I could pluck them out of his mouth and throw them down the street. But this feeling was powerful to the point of being dangerous, and it frightened me. So few 'relationships' that became so interlocked, so quickly, had led to anything good. It screamed-no, it downright reeked- of manipulation.

"Thank you, Sigil," I said quietly. "I will… consider it."

He nodded, and I turned away from him, exiting out of the door, trying to shake off my apprehension. It was just because he was half-human; and he'd been raised on Earth. He was used to humans, but also a part of Jotunheim; like I was. We shared a common ground. That was all. That was it. No treachery or deception, no immediate close bond. Nothing.

Still, as I walked back to my quarters, I couldn't fight the unease that stirred through me. Because there had been something inside of me that was screaming, above anything else, to protect this child.

And the last time that had happened, the child was Fraye.

I was waiting in our shared quarters when Loki arrived, my nose stuffed firmly in a book. The difference between Jotun and Midgardian literature was… fascinating. I found myself rather enthralled by the former.

I looked up to Loki as he entered the room and smiled at him, despite the fact that he looked just about as exhausted as I felt. My eyes softening, I asked, "Rough day?"

"Tuh!" He rolled his red eyes and didn't give a proper response, all but collapsing into a nearby chair. He rubbed his eyes with one hand, pushing against them so hard that pinpricks of light began to fizzle behind his eyelids. I smiled at him gently and removed myself from my chair in order to stand by his. He peered over his hand to look at me as I made it within a few feet and noted, "You're exhausted."

"So are you," I pointed out, matter-of-factly, taking him in with a swift glance. Despite his tiredness, he still looked royal as all heck, still in full Jotun regalia that would probably not have looked so impressive if someone on Earth tried to pull it off, but looked pretty freaking incredible on a Frost Giant. There were metal armbands on his wrists, some impressively styled metal armor on his shoulder, and a cape so dark green that it looked almost black (typically it was black, but Loki had to put his own personal touch on it). He wore Jotun-style pants and, as with most Frost Giants, no shirt. There wasn't exactly a crown on his head, not currently, but currently, it wasn't really necessary. On Jotunheim, it was so very rarely necessary.

I reached forwards and helped him to undo the metal armor, the wrist bands. In a lot of ways, I knew that he missed his old Asgardian look; and in a lot of ways, I missed it, too. But there were other occasions where he could use it; and even on Jotunheim, he frequently used his helm. So that was something. His old life hadn't entirely died.

I sat on the armrest of his chair as I undid the cape, and I smiled at him. He looked me up and down as I did so. Jotunheim had changed the way both of us looked; while he always went around wearing a little less, now in his more natural environment, I wore a whole lot more. At all times, I wore thick, long-sleeved shirts and pants, and frequently more than that. It was a friggin' ice planet. I was a little fragile for it, unfortunately.

He sighed quietly as I set the metal armor on the ground, then reached forward and took my hand carefully. "I'm not used to being without you," he said quietly.

"Makes everything so much worse somehow, doesn't it?" I agreed. For the past few weeks, we'd been within each other's sight practically at all times. For the two of us to be so split apart for the whole day like this… it was a little odd. Granted, we were still in each other's minds, and we could still talk at any time… but it wasn't quite the same.

I stayed sitting on the armrest until I started to lose my balance; then I pulled up a chair in front of him, very close to him. I ran through the memories of his day as he ran through the memories of mine, catching up on everything. He frowned at the mention of Puck.

"I've heard of that half-breed," he reminded me quietly. 'Reminded me' because, somewhere in the back of our minds, I knew before he said it aloud. "There are not many that reach his age."

My eyebrows furrowed. "How old is he?"

He shrugged mildly. "I'm not certain. Old enough to be a rarity." His eyes grew thoughtful, and he brought his hand up, resting his index finger beneath his lip. "But then… any age past a few days would be a rarity."

There was a trace of bitterness in these words. It was something that, I was sure, Loki understood; half-breeds and smaller Giants would share that particular fate here. Loki himself had been abandoned and left to die. It was possible that Puck had been, too, at one point.

"Though it is… odd, that Sigil would say something against him," Loki went on, pushing the past aside. The world that had once rejected him had now made him king. He had proven them all wrong. He had proven his own worth. "He very rarely says anything that he does not have to."

Well that much was true. For Sigil to say something like that, and so… out of nowhere? It was definitely something new. I shoved the thoughts of the half-breed and the mage aside. "I suppose so," I said quietly, letting the thought trail off, before changing subjects a moment later. "What about that issue this morning? At the perimeter of the palace?"

Loki frowned. I knew what had happened, but it was curious; curious enough to warrant the two of us actually talking about it, instead of just sharing a memory. "In truth," the Trickster told me, "I have never seen such an occurrence." The forefront of his mind was suddenly occupied by the image of event; or rather, what he suspected was the aftereffects of an event. I scanned it with him.

"It doesn't seem like a direct attack," I noted, taking in the devastation, the leveled stone and ice surroundings that had been… eaten away. It seemed to spread away from an epicenter, an almost perfect circle of carnage. The palace wall had only been clipped by it, the ice burned and devoured by… something. But the area surrounding was much worse; I hadn't known that stone could turn that… black.

And then there was that… feeling, in the air. I may not have sensed it, had I been there, but Loki most certainly had; a type of magic that stirred the cold and made it feel… wrong. As though the planet itself rejected this place, as though it was… sick. It was twisted and vile and went against natural laws of the universe; but it was impossible to tell what it was.

But still, the damage had not been centered around the palace walls. In fact, the wall had only barely been clipped by it; a majority of it had been spread out farther away. It was a fairly large circle of damage; perhaps a ten foot diameter. But it was almost- almost- perfect.

"No," Loki agreed, "I don't believe so." His eyes narrowed in thought, becoming somewhat distant. "But I have never seen anything like this. Nothing with such… raw power."

I frowned. "Well, I dunno, Fraye was pretty-"

"Fraye was… natural." At my dubious look, he corrected himself smoothly. "Or, at least, her abilities were. This was different." He pulled up the memory again. "Everything within that circle was eradicated. There was nothing inside of it." He shook his head, "There is not a power in the universe that can make something into nothing. Perhaps reduce it to dust… but not nothing. At the very least… not a known power." He sighed deeply, running his hands over his face. "And the worst of it is, I recognize this pattern. But I can't recall where from."

I quirked a smile. "Well, we've all got those days." I stood up, ruffling his picture-perfect hair as I passed by him. "You'll figure it out," I promised, kissing the top of his head and heading to the other end of the room. He stayed where he was, recognizing my intent to change into what passed for my PJs here and kept his stare forward and distant as I changed in the next room, leaving the door open so that we could still talk. Walls were placed up in our minds as I asked, "Do you think you should talk to Odin? Maybe he's seen it before."

"Run to the Asgardian King for help within the first week of ruling?" He shook his head, standing. He, himself, needed to change, and he did so in this room, still calling over to me. "Oh yes, that is behavior most befitted to a Shadowslayer."

"I thought I was the sarcastic one in this relationship," I grumbled, pulling my shirt over my head and yanking my hair out of the ponytail that I'd put it in after coming back to Jotunheim. It was so much easier to keep it that way these days; and I was even contemplating cutting it. Not making it too short, but maybe like Natasha's. Give an opponent less of an advantage, less hair to grab and less to entangle on something. Raising my voice a little, I said, "I wouldn't necessarily call it 'running' to him. Relations between Asgard and Jotunheim haven't been this good in a very long time. You should take advantage of that. Build alliances. If you trust them to help you, maybe they'll know that they can ask you for the same." I bit my lip as I gauged myself in the mirror briefly, then waited just inside for him to finish. "I guess… I dunno, maybe it'd be good for both worlds to show that they've got each other's backs."

Loki let out a breath of sound that was almost a laugh. He pulled on his own shirt and stared into space, contemplative. "You think our worlds should protect each other."

"Well… yeah. I mean, you totally kicked ass on Fraye together. With her out of the way, there's no reason you shouldn't… get along."

There was a long beat of silence. And then he continued to change, finishing up as he said, "Thor will be king of Asgard soon, Miss Frost. His coronation is already set." He seemed very distant as he said this, carrying on with, "Us 'protecting' each other is hardly a new concept. However…" Another brief silence.

And then he sighed. It was a sigh filled with an old, tired misery. "The problem, Miss Frost, with 'having someone's back'… is that you are always in their shadow."

My heart gave a little twist alongside his. He loved Thor, he'd never hurt him again, he'd definitely 'learned the error of his ways'… but there was still a lot of old pains separating the two. I swept my head briefly to be certain that he had lowered his walls and barriers, signifying that he had finished… and then I stepped into the room. Carefully, I walked up behind him, then turned my back to him and pressed it against his.

"Well, I guess I'll always have your back, then," I said quietly, as he glanced over his shoulder at me. He half-smiled wearily, stepping away from me so that he could turn and face me; I faced him, too. Carefully, he kissed my forehead.

"Sentimental mortal," he chided quietly, shaking his head as he walked away from me.

"Bitter old man," I chided in turn, following after him. He snorted as my hand laced in his.

The two of us took care of the rest of the daily nighttime rituals- brushing teeth and hair, etc, etc- in silence. I finished first and waited for him in the bed, flaring my glow as I always did in nighttime. We found it easier than sleeping with a proper light; and we definitely could not sleep in the dark. Fraye had left her mark on us in more ways than one.

As Loki got onto his side of the bed, I smiled at him and settled back on the pillows. "And just think: we get to do all of this again tomorrow."

He rolled his eyes as he slid down, lying down next to me. "Tell me you will be back sooner than you were today."

"I will," I promised; and it was true. I only had one class tomorrow, and no other errands to run besides. "I'll only be gone a few hours." I turned onto my back and stared at the ceiling. "But, as usual, you'll still be king all day."

He half-sighed, gently wrapping his arm around my waist. "At least in prison, I had time to think," he grumbled quietly. I grinned.

"Ah, we'll get used to it. You like playing the political game, I know you do." The smile stretched as I closed my eyes… then opened them again. "Besides, it's nice for me to get back to 'normal' for a little while. Back to being… I dunno, human again." I looked at the beautiful crystal ice ceiling, feeling oddly wistful all of a sudden. "Though… I guess… I guess I can see why you thought of them as…" my voice lowered. "Lesser."

The tone in my words pricked his curiosity; he sat up, giving me a quizzical look as he propped himself upright on his elbow, half-leaning over me so that I could see his face even as I stared upright. "How so?" He asked, with the barest lacing of worry in his tone.

I waved a flippant hand, as though it would brush his concerns away. "Ah, it's nothing. Just… watching all of these norms walk around, living their lives… and it seems like so many of the decisions in their lives are just… futile. They affect a few other people, here and there, but… their decisions don't have consequence. They haven't seen anything past their own little worlds and their own little lives, and they just carry on like it actually matters." I sighed quietly. "And in so many ways, it does. And it's for those little lives and little decisions that I made all of these bigger ones, that I saw the things I did and kept the power that I have… And in a lot of ways, I envy them. I envy the fact that they don't have to make these decisions. But, at other times… I pity them. Because their lives aren't in their own hands any more… and they don't even know it. They don't even know the stuff we do to keep them safe. They just care about… about a new excuse to chew gum in class, or their next break, or how hard the newest homework assignment is going to be."

As his eyes grew a trace of sympathy, I carried on, "They just seem so… small, Loki. So fragile. Like I could just reach out a hand and break them in half." I looked to him. "I didn't use to think this way. I mean, I always knew they were… delicate. But…" I lowered my voice by a great deal, not meeting his brilliant red eyes. "It never… disgusted me, before. How…" my eyes squeezed tight. "How weak they all truly are."

There was a long silence; the longest of the night. And then I opened my eyes, to look up at him. His face was unreadable, carefully expressionless. But he was shaking his head and, after a moment, he laughed acerbically.

"So I learn to value mortals more, and you value them far less," he said. "Is that what you are saying?"

I slugged him in the arm, because it was fun to punch things and he was nearby. "No. I'm not gonna go around screaming for people to kneel to me like a crazy maniac." I jutted my chin out defiantly. "I'm just saying that I understand it more, you know? How you could… see people as lesser than you." I bit my lip. "Especially… especially after you've spent a lot of your life thinking of yourself as lesser than everybody else."

His eyes tightened. We both knew that feeling all too well. Slowly, he lowered himself back down next to me, similarly staring up at the ceiling. After a long time, I linked my hand in his.

"Ah, forget about it," I said, pushing the thoughts aside. "I guess… I dunno, I guess that I just miss having what they do. I just miss… being human. And so part of me just wants to view it as a weakness, because I can never have it again." I closed my eyes. "I'll get over it eventually."

Loki didn't respond for a long time. I didn't think there was a good response to that, and it was probably unfair of me to silently wish for one. For some reassurance that it would be okay. But, nonetheless, that wish was granted a moment later.

"Don't be foolish, Frost," Loki said coolly. "You're still human." He turned again so that he could close his eyes and wrap his arm around me. "Far too human, in some ways."

I snorted quietly at that. "Well, compared to a Frost Giant, yeah, you could say that."

He smiled softly, reaching his hand up so that he could gently stroke my cheek with his hand, opening his eyes so that he could look at my face. "Don't trouble yourself with it," he told me softly. "You will become accustomed to this life soon enough. And if not, then you will have all the time you need to do so."

"I know," I said, closing my eyes. "And… well, I'm glad you'll be there to help me with that." I settled back further into the pillows, curling up next to him. He smiled softly in the glow-lit darkness, closing his eyes.

Together, we forgot the world, and fell asleep.

Loki sat, watching me silently. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he was counting my every breath. Waiting for them to run out, when he knew that they would not do so for a very long time…

But not long enough. Not for him.

He closed his eyes, running his hand down his face. He knew that he should return to my side, knew that my nightmares would start again, that the longer he stayed sitting in this chair and just… watching, the longer the nightmares had to return. But he had his own foul dreams to contend with. He had his own battles with sleep that had woken him, kept him here. He could not close his eyes, could not return to that.

Could not return to his own funeral… for that was what it was. My funeral, his funeral, weren't they the same? Wasn't he watching his own coffin being lowered into the ground, trying to stutter out his own eulogy, while his head screamed with empty numbness and horrific, deadened pain?

He rubbed his green eyes carefully. Green, now, because just as his Jotun form would frequently bleed through his Asgardian one, he now found that the Asgardian one would bleed through the Jotun. He knew I didn't mind, that I saw it as him either way, but it was still a worry, if someone else should see it.

But he had other, far greater worries.

I will not go back to that, Frost. I will not become that again. I will not live without you.

It had only been a month. One month since he'd been… that. Since the world had been hollow and his mind empty and Death screaming to claim him and him screaming to allow it but something standing in between… Loki shuddered. The memories were branded into his mind forever, memories of an irrevocable time, a past best left forgotten but could never be forgiven. No matter what I said, that could not be forgiven.

But he would not make the same mistakes again. He would not allow me to die a second time. Whatever it took.

"Ugh, you're really depressing me, you know that?"

He blinked, looking at me as I slammed my hand on the mattress and pushed myself up off the pillows. "I am trying to sleep, here," I scolded.

Usually that might have gotten a soft smile, a sad smirk. Something. And then he would come back and sit next to me until one of us fell asleep. Usually.

But tonight he merely turned to me, studied me in silence for a long moment, then turned away. His hands folded, fingers interlacing, and he rested them by his face, thinking into them. His eyes were hard and distant. And, I noticed for the first time, green. Asgardian eyes. He hadn't noticed this yet, but he only ever changed into this other form when he was feeling guilty. It was a subconscious transition: something to hide what he still partly viewed as the 'monster' within. And, if I was the source of this guilt (and I typically was), then it also showed a 'better' side of himself, a side he thought that I preferred; as it looked more 'human'. The side of himself that he thought I'd fallen in love with; and in a way, he was right. I'd fallen in love with what he could be, with what he should be, what he was. The better parts of him. But not this form. Not this face, or those eyes, as perfect as they might be. Because either way, Jotun or Asgardian, it was the better part of him inside that mattered to me, cheesy as it was.

As he stared unseeingly into a distance away from me, I decided that the 'usual' wasn't going to cut it. Time to kick it up a notch.

I stood, walking out of the bed, and crossed the room to stand in front of where he was staring. His eyes lifted to my face as I folded my arms and tapped one foot in over exaggerated impatience. "You're not going to solve the issues of the universe by staying awake all night."

The bitterness in his eyes was sharp and cold as, with poisoned words, he asked, "Then how shall I solve them, Miss Frost?"

"Not like this."

"I see no other alternative."

I scowled. Drumming my fingers on my arm a few times and gnawing on the inside of my cheek, I finally announced, "Fine. But if you stay up all night, then so will I."

I sat on the edge of his armrest, planting myself there stubbornly. "And then we'll both be miserable," I added, crouching there with a mulish expression. Loki watched me out of the corner of his eye, sitting motionless for a moment. And then he rolled his eyes, gripped my shirtsleeve, and pulled it towards him.

Unfortunately, sitting on the edge of an armrest is not great for balancing. His simple tug immediately tipped me over, and as I cried, "Woah, hey!" I started to tumble. I caught myself before I fell entirely onto him, holding on to the armrest with both hands at an awkward angle, but a gentle push on my shoulder from Loki corrected that, and down I fell. He caught me and held me there before I fell entirely onto the ground, turning me around so that I was facing him and taking my hands in one of his, long fingers binding my wrists together. His eyes twinkled regardless of the solemn expression on his face; the one that he was trying to keep up, the coldness that he was trying to hold onto.

"You are the most headstrong human I have ever met," he informed me matter-of-factly.

I frowned at him, struggling to pull my wrists out of his hand, to free my bound hands. "That's not true," I pointed out as I did so, not looking at him, but rather keeping my eyes on the task at hand. "What about Tony?"

"No."

"Huh. That's a new personal best, then," I said, trying to maintain my cheer as I lifted my hands up and twisted them about, trying to throw off Loki's grip. It remained as firm as ever. He watched my struggles with a bemused and patronizing smile, like watching Hyde trying to decimate a piece of yarn. "What about Bruce?" I asked.

"Banner has never particularly struck me as 'headstrong'."

"No, but the Other Guy sure is."

"The Hulk is not 'human'. So the title still falls entirely to you."

I gave up on fighting my hands out of his and instead turned a glare to him. Holding my bound wrists up, I asked, "Give me back my hands, wouldja?"

"I think not." His eyes were full-fledged dancing now. A few years ago, that look on his face would've terrified the crap outta me. But then, a few years ago, I would've had good reason to be scared. Now, well… now I was just a bit irritated. But it was worth it, to see him a little more like his old self, instead of continually… brooding. Even if his laughter had to be bought at the expense of my ego.

So I scowled at him and got back to work on twisting my hands out of his grip. It was surprisingly difficult. "What about Bird Brain? He's pretty stubborn."

"Aye," Loki answered with his best political voice. "But not even the archer is so stubborn that he feels it necessary to argue about how headstrong he is."

The jab caught me off guard, and I froze, trying to decode it for a moment. When I got it, my eyes narrowed on him and his small but unbearably smug grin. "I hate you."

"Such foul words," Loki said, one eyebrow rising. "You injure me, my lady."

"I'll do a lot worse if you don't-erf-" I struggled more firmly against his hand, straining against them and speaking my words through gritted teeth. "Let me out of this…"

"I see no reason to give up this advantage at this time." He answered smoothly, his grip tightening just slightly. His eyes were still shining brilliantly, a hidden laughter in his words… but for a brief second, though the tightening around my wrists did not actually hurt me, it felt… frightening. My heart skipped a beat, my stomach lurching. I couldn't get out. I couldn't get out of his grip even if I wanted to, even if I tried hard enough, I was trapped, I was trapped and I suddenly realized that there was darkness all around, darkness everywhere, and what if that darkness came alive again…?

"Loki," I said, and my voice suddenly sharpened, ice crystals gleaming as blades around my words. It was nothing more or less than a command as I ordered, "Let go of my hands."

He immediately sensed the change and released my wrists, pulling his own hand back swiftly. Without another word, I rolled off of him and the chair, dropping to the ground in a crouch on my hands and feet, then pulled myself up swiftly. Loki allowed me to go without protest, allowed me to take a few steps away from him, looking at the ground and shaking. My fingers trembled at my sides as I pulled in a few deep breaths, slow and sure, measured and tightly controlled. In, out. In, out.

I focused on the cold, icy rush of Jotun air through my lungs until my heart slowed again, until my hands became still. I rubbed my wrists carefully, massaging out the trapped, buzzing feeling inside of them as I turned back to Loki. The smile, the laughter, the twinkle in his eyes, it had all vanished, evaporated and wiped clean away. His eyes were now tight, his hands in loose fists. There was empathy and blame on his face as his eyes lowered, down to my arm, where, beneath my sleeve, his name was carved in scars on my skin.

I laughed half-heartedly, nervously, knowing that it wouldn't work but needing to try something. "Well that kinda killed the good mood," I said, but as I did so, his eyes turned to solid jade, rock and stone, hardening as he looked at me, and my voice trailed off. I lowered my gaze. "Sorry. I just… couldn't… I mean…"

"You," Loki cut me off harshly. His voice lowered, however, as he went on. "Have nothing to apologize for."

He took a shaky breath himself, in and out, trying to keep calm. To stop his own trembling, though his was for far different reasons. He closed his eyes and said, in a tone that was as even as it was dark, "This is the consequence of my own actions. My own faults. Not yours." He sighed heavily. "When such things occur… when such things happen to you, it is my burden to bear."

I took just a brief moment to digest that, to think that over. And then my eyes narrowed. "Well that's pretty freaking selfish of you, isn't it?"

He looked up to me, to my face, startled. I rolled my eyes and said, disgustedly, "Ugh, how many times do we have to go over this, Loki? It's not your 'burden', all right? Because you're not the one who has to deal with it! You're not the one who goes crazy every so often, you're not the one who has to deal with this damn PTSD, you're not the one who was there, who was handed over, who was tortured! No, you're the one who has to deal with the guilt, but don't you get it, Loki? I don't want you to! I've told you a thousand freaking times to forgive yourself, and you just won't listen! And so I have to deal with not only the stress, and the anxiety, and the 'episodes', no, I've got to deal with your damn guilt as well! And you think that you're being oh-so-friggin'-noble by taking that blame on your shoulders, by 'dealing with it' and 'bearing the burden' of dealing with your pain over my episodes, but you're not, Loki! You're being selfish! If you were really being noble, you'd just let it the hell go when I ask you to! You'd try to forgive yourself, because it's hard enough for me to do that by myself, but if you blame yourself, like She blamed you, like she tried to brainwash me into blaming you, then where the hell does that leave me?!"

The volume of my words had gotten louder and louder with each one, until the last ones were shouted out with a few droplets of spittle, my eyes half-mad as my fists shook at my sides. But now I lowered my voice, brought it down again. "Your 'burden to bear' shouldn't just be… sticking around for me, just staying with me, when I show off my broken, crazy side. It should be… taking care of me when I need you to, sure, but… but maybe you could just… move on with life from time to time? I mean…" I looked up to him, brown eyes wide and pleading. "We were happy, Loki. We were perfectly happy and laughing, and yeah, I had a moment, but that was all it had to be: a moment. Everything would have been okay if we had just… laughed it off. Moved on." I looked to him. "Why don't you get that, Loki?"

He didn't reply for a long time, staring at me, shocked and slightly hurt. But I didn't see it. I couldn't see it. His pain… it meant practically nothing at the moment.

I laughed quietly. "I mean… I'm going to college, Loki. Pointless, worthless, ridiculous college… just for a chance to feel normal again. To be…" I looked down to my arms, slowly sliding my sleeve down, so that I could look at the inside of my forearm, at the scars there. "To be human again," I whispered. "And you… you used to do that for me, Loki. In your own sick, twisted way… you'd always remind me that that's what I was in the end. 'Foolish mortal', 'little human', all these things, these stupid… stupid insults of yours… they made me feel more human than I do now, than any of your guilt does now!" I threw up my hands. "Tell me why that is, Loki! Tell me why I felt more like a normal human being when we were enemies than I do right now! Tell me why the one person I need to treat me like I'm… like I'm normal… just treats me like glass!"

His eyes had softened. In a voice that was weak and weary as he looked, he answered, "Because you are not normal, Natalie. Because everything has changed."

"No!" I shouted, and in two quick steps, I was in his face, jabbing a finger in his chest. "No! Stop that! Stop giving me that… that look! I don't need your pity! I don't need your sympathy! And I sure as hell don't need your guilt! I need to move on, don't you get that? I need to… to forget her! To forget what she did, what she made me… what she made us!" I wasn't crying. In the old days, I might have been. But I hadn't cried since Fraye. I hadn't cried since the darkness. And I didn't think that I could anymore.

And that was the problem, wasn't it? Because there could be no forgetting what had been hard-wired into you. And I knew that. Loki knew that.

But I didn't want to know.

I pulled back before I could say anything I regretted, pulled away from him and closed my eyes. "Of course everything's changed, Loki. But that doesn't mean that we have to change everything."

And then I turned and walked out the door. Loki watched me go, but he didn't protest. He didn't bother.

I made it halfway across the palace, into a small, forgotten room, before I had to collapse, sitting down on the floor and curling into a ball, holding my head in my hands.