As they walk towards Heimdall's control room, Frigga and Thor on either side of Loki, they are so occupied by their own thoughts that they do not see trouble right in front of them. Odin stands with an entire garrison of soldiers, blocking their way.

"No. He does not return."

Thor stares, shocked, "What, Father?"

"He does not return."

"And where is he to go? The Bifrost is gone." Frigga's voice is a knife and her eyes dare Odin to push against it.

"I do not particularly care. The realm is not safe with him here."

Thor is still trying to think of something to say when Frigga puts her arm around Loki and walks through the soldiers, "Stop me." None dare. Thor hurries to follow her. When they are past the garrison and Thor catches up, there is a thud as a brick wall appears behind them, "That should occupy them for a while. Odin is a terrible father sometimes."

"Where will you take him?"

"Somewhere Odin dares not intrude."

And Thor knows immediately where his mother will take Loki. They walk along the waterfront until they reach the far edge of the city and they keep walking until the hills give way to mountains. Up one narrow path there is a plateau and on that plateau there is a cottage surrounded by fragrant herbs and flowers, the air humming with bee wings.

"Your father will likely ask you to choose. If he does, tell him that I will not forgive him if he takes my son from me."

Thor knows this is a promise and a threat. He gives Loki one last hug before returning to the palace.

It is only once they are settled in the cottage, tea in front of them, that Loki speaks, "Odin is only sometimes a terrible father?"

"When in the company of both of you, yes. To Thor, he has sometimes even been a good father. To you...he has had his moments here and there. But he is not a patient person and our craft is not his."

"What just happened, Mother?"

"We are going to live here."

"We?"

"Well I cannot simply leave you here to your thoughts. But you do owe me an explanation. The whole story, start to finish."

And so Loki speaks. Stumbling over his words at points, he tries to smooth over the more brutal parts of his plan, including the bit where he tried to kill Thor with the Destroyer. But they only sound worse and she has always seen through his lies. When he finishes, she sips her tea, lost in thought.

"I am a fool, Mother. And I wish you would have let me fall."

"I would be a horrible mother had I done so. I told Odin to be honest with you from the start. To never hide that you were our child by choice and of Jotunheim. But had he done that, I think he would have simply emphasised that your birthright was to die and he was your saviour. I heard enough about how ungrateful you were to him for granting you your life when you angered him with mischief or were defiant."

"But I never knew. How could I be grateful?"

"His expectations for you have never been very realistic, have they?"

"He once said Thor and I were both destined to be kings."

"Of two different realms."

"He expected me to somehow sit on Jotunheim's throne?"

"He had a few plans to make it happen. Killing Laufey cheif among them."

"I already did that."

"And you could claim that throne if you wish. He was your father."

"The birthright of a king."

"But I do not think you are ready to take on that mantle. Nor is Thor. His corronation was your father's idea, not mine. He rushes his sons into rule neither of you are ready for."

Loki cuddles against her, once again a child, "What is to become of me?"

"We will take things one day at a time."

"I am a horrible monster. The stories say so."

"History is written by the victor. Who is always the victor in those stories?"

"Us...you? Father."

"And would the victor paint his enemy kindly, or as disgraceful savages so worthless that killing them is no loss?"

"What are you telling me? The stories are lies?"

"What did you see in Jotunheim?"

"Ruin. Ice. Nothing I would call a civilisation."

"What were the ruins of?"

"I did not notice."

Frigga's look tells him that was the wrong answer, "My unusually perceptive son failed to notice? Come now, think about what you saw."

He closes his eyes and concentrates, "The vast ruins of cities reduced to rubble. A palace once grand."

"Reduced to rubble in the war. With Midgard secure, Odin chased them back to their own realm and decimated it so they could never do the same, returning with the Cask of Ancient Winters as his prize. Svartalfheim looks much the same, thanks to Bor. And you will never meet one of those races who does not see us as the enemy, their anger left to fester for so many centuries."

"I did not think there were any Svartalfs left."

"That is what your father believes."

"Is he mistaken?"

"Yes. I have seen it and the consequences."

"But you cannot say what you have seen?"

"As always."

"Will it destroy us?"

"Possibly. But possibly not. It depends on who fights where." She does not tell him that it is he and he alone who will change the course of history. It is too far big a burden to place on his shoulders. She will guide him to the path that will lead to victory. The Convergence will come, one way or another.

As the days turn into weeks, then months, Loki hones his skills with his mother's magic. He has learned much in this cottage over the years. He tries not to think about what he is missing at the palace- the company of those he once called his friends, particularly. Thor visits on occassion and praises his skills as he shows off what he has learned to advance his illusions.

And while he is proud of mastering these illusions, he is more proud of the other work he has learned. Frigga begins to teach him about the herbs and plants in her garden.

"My mother was a master healer, you know. It is said she could bring men back from death's door. I was meant to be the same."

"You are not?"

"Oh no. There are so many things I never learned. I am good enough to be the mother of two rambunctious boys, but she...she was something I never will be."

"But why? Why did you stop your studies?"

"I got married and your father asked me to spend my time tending to the family. And there were so many duties related to being queen... I tried to do everything, but when something had to give, he did not let me relegate matters of state to others."

Loki stares in disbelief, "You gave up magic for that?"

"Yes."

"Because he asked...no, he told... How could you let it go?"

"My options were limited. I had two small children; I did not have the energy for a fight."

He resigns himself to not mastering this particular magic, "So you ended it."

"Yes. I ended it." She reads the despair on his face, "That does not mean you cannot surpass my skill. Your intuition is excellent and you have done well in the gardens."

"You will teach me?"

"Everything I know."

And teach him she does. He excells in memorisation and goes with her, veiled in illusion, to attend births in the outlying villages. She loves this work and has midwived for many years without her husband knowing- or, at least, without ever telling him. He watches her work, her expert hands soothing sore bodies and repairing tears in skin and flesh. Her work is not always joyful and he learns the art of grief as well.

Then something attacks. They feel the explosions before they see them, running from the cottage as something huge looms over the city, smaller ships crashing into buildings, exploding in the sky.

Frigga runs back into the cottage and returns with a satchel and shortsword, "Quickly, your knives. And hurry- there are things we must gather." Loki follows orders with precision and soon they are on their way to the palace.

"Mother, why? He will not welcome my aid."

"He will have little choice in the matter if he wants mine."

"But what business is it of mine if the man who wishes to never see me again is under attack?"

"Because whether you wish to acknowledge it or not, he was, for many years, your father. And your brother fights beside him."

He does not try to argue with her.

When the arrive, the palace is in chaos. There are skirmishes in the halls, the throne room, even in the dungeons. She chooses a place to start and they set to work on the wounded.

It is not long before Frigga hears the frightened voice of a young woman asking who they are. She introduces herself and her son and asks the woman her name.

"Jane Foster. I'm Thor's girlfriend. And I think they're after whatever's inside me. It's not nice. I think Odin called it the Aether."

Frigga passes the care of her patient to Loki, "Come with me. And do exactly as I say."

She leaves Loki to his work and he carries on in silence. When he has done all he can do for those in the first room, he moves on. But he hears a commotion, something large thundering down the hall, and he knows in his heart that she is in trouble. He quickly finishes bandaging a leg, grabs her statchel, and runs, letting his instincts guide him. When he finds her, she is crouched over a fallen enemy, a sword to his throat. But the other creature is there as well and Loki engages him as he moves toward her. His knives fly, but they are not quick enough and whatever this enemy is, it is strong. He is thrown across the room, she is lifted, and as he sees the blade drawn, he realises what is going to happen. He releases a surge of telekenetic energy and hopes it lands true. She gasps as the knife slides into her back, but his magic slams the creature back, forcing the blade from his hand. Thor runs, roaring, into the room. Mjolner flies, and their enemies leap from the window. While Thor seeks vengeance, Loki seeks Frigga, who has collapsed on her hands and knees and is bleeding profusely, rivers tracing down her arms, pooling on the floor.

Her eyes meet Loki's the moment before she topples forward. He catches her, but discovers someone else beside him. Odin. He takes her from Loki's arms and cradles her, but Loki grabs her hand and feels her wrist.

"There is still time. Quickly."

But Odin does not hear.

"You must move her." He goes to shift her in Odin's lap, but is met by the withering gaze of Odin's single eye, "Do you not understand? She is not yet lost. If you can trust me, even for a moment, there is hope. If you cannot, she dies."

Thor crouches beside him, "You can save her?"

"I can try. If I fail, she is no more dead than she will be if I do nothing at all."

"It may not work?"

"That is always the risk. But given the alternative..."

Thor turns to Odin, "Do as he asks."

"Lay her like this across your lap, with her arms as so." Loki mimes what he wants Odin to do.

"That will open her shoulder blades."

"I understand this. Do it."

Thor adjusts their mother across Odin's legs and Loki opens her satchel, setting out the tools of the trade- herbs, tinctures, fine silk stitches, little blades so sharp they cut without feeling, and bandages. He cuts her dress and sets to work, carefully working the flesh away from the blade, fearing barbes or other devices to make removal impossible. He pours something along the metal, cleaing and easing, packing herbs in the wound, muttering spells, and finally pulling the knife from her back. He sets it in a circle of salt and casts a dome over it just in case it carries its own magic. He puts together a complex poultice and bandages it over the wound.

"Do not turn her over. Keep her like this for an hour at the least. Arrange her comfortably to sleep after and I will return once I have gathered more herbs."

Odin stares at him as he walks for the door, Frigga's blood staining his trousers. Thor follows him.

"Loki, wait. How did you know that?"

"Mother has been teaching me. Did you know her mother was a master healer in the old methods?"

"No."

"Neither did I. Odin asked Mother to stop her studies so she could care for us and the kingdom."

"How did she teach you?"

"She gave me her mother's books."

"You will return?"

"Yes. In a few hours. There is much to be done to heal this many wounded and there is much to be done to assure she comes back to us."

He returns after only half an hour, unable to stand not knowing how she is faring. He brings books with him and after he cleans her wound, repacks it, and bandages it. There is no reason she should be alive, but Loki is tapping into an energy far more dangerous than he usually does in order to secure her survival. The herbs and bandages are the illusion now. As he works, Thor corners him.

"I need your help."

"With what?"

"Vengeance. You cannot claim that there is no call in your heart to seek those who did this and killl them."

A grin flickers across Loki's face, but he quickly composes himself, "No. Go yourself."

But Thor begs, desperate to leave even though the Bifrost has been ordered closed and there is no other way he knows to leave the realm. Thor's entreatments work and soon Loki finds himself flying a stolen skiff across the water with Jane and Thor in tow. He knows this will end badly, but Thor has assured him that he will make sure the All-Father knows he was cajoled into it against his will. Loki knows that will make little difference. When one taps into what he has tapped into to save his mother, there is always a trade-off- a price. Walking into a dangerous situation right after having accepted that, he knows, is guaranteeing that the debt be paid in a very painful way.

They are quiet on the skiff. The silence is odd- no arguing, no idle chatter. Thor's focus is on the unconscious Jane. Loki's is on the passing landscape. Thor does not explain much of what is going on, only that the Aether has returned and that it will be used to destroy all worlds during the convergence and Jane is carrying it.

"Father planned to keep her in Asgard, destroy Malekith and his kind when they returned for her, and fight to the last man standing. I would rather not every one of my people die for victory. We will do this alone."

"You send us against an army with nothing but our wits. I fail to see how this plan will not lead to the end of the realms. We cannot defeat him."

"We only need to kill Malekith and the creature that serves him. The army will disband without a leader."

"And I am to believe this will be something easily done?"

"No. But we must do it."

"While protecting her."

"Yes."

"You will lose her, Thor. Whether today or in a half a century, she is merely a mortal and she will wither before your eyes. Make yourself ready for whenever it comes."

"I am."

Loki is deep in thought, "No, you are not. But neither was I ready to watch Mother fall. We think ourselves immortal, but we are still so fragile, so easily killed by the right weapon in the right moment, weilded by the right hand."

"Or our own."

Loki watches his brother carefully, "Does this mean that the loss of Jane today may lead to the loss of Thor tomorrow?" his voice is soft, barely audible over the wind.

Thor does not answer and Loki thinks he does not hear.

They plan their introduction to Malekith when Jane wakes. It is dramatic, but it seems believable, so they put it into action. Sorcery, deception, knives, Mjolner. But the Aether remains and inhabits Malekith, so they fight.

Loki usually would like the cosmic justice of watching Thor pummelled for a moment- payback for all the times he was doing the pummelling when the boys were children. But not this time. He intervenes as soon as he can and realises as his own flesh is ripped open that this is the price for closing his mother's flesh. The same creature kills him the same way. He has a few moments of clear thought and decides that if he is dying, he's taking it with him.

An then there is Thor, and only Thor, in his vision. He tries desperately to think of fitting last words, but admitting that he is a fool is all he can think. The words come haltingly and he is frightened. And then nothing. Thor cradles his body and sobs.

Loki wakes somewhere else, where his body is substantially less corporeal. The room looks like a stable, but without the familiar sounds and smells of life. A figure appears at the opposite end of the room and for one horrifying, heartwrenching moment, he thinks it is Frigga, that she has died in his absence. But as she comes closer, he realises, to much relief, that while she looks very much like his mother, she is not.

"You are early, young one."

"Early?"

"Yes. We were not expecting you. Do you know who I am?"

"I assume you are my mother's mother."

"You have assumed well."

"Do you watch us? Is Mother recovering?"

"Without you, no, she will not. She needs you to guide the energies you called on from Yggdrasil."

"Oh. My debt..."

"Was not meant to be repaid in this way. But it was, and so it was for nought."

Loki can think of no answer that will not reduce him to tears.

"My child...you have so much yet to learn, but you have tapped into something incredibly powerful that will demand of you what you take from it. Once you dedicate your life to healing from the Tree, you cannot turn back. You will not be a warrior, you will not be a father, it will demand all of your life in exchange for the gifts it will give through you. And it is worth every moment, but I could not do it. My daughter came first, so though I was a master healer, I could not master death. But now I have the choice. If you ask, I will send you back, but you will have to mend your body and you will have to become its servant. You will be what I could not."

"Yes. Send me back."

She is alarmed by the speed that he answers, "You have given this enough thought?"

"What do I stand to lose? I am not welcome in the palace, I live in exile. Thor will be king, I will have no place there anyway. And Mother will die if I do not. There is no other option."

"Then ready yourself. This will be immensely painful."

Loki closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and steels himself, "Thank you."

"Live wisely, child."

And with that, he is back in Svartalfheim, his body split open, the flies drawn to his blood. He screams, but the sound only gurgles. He grasps at fragments of thought until one sticks and he is able to focus on magic. On Yggdrasil. On tendrils of light that radiate from its branches, weaving through everything in the universe. He siphons power from the Tree, guiding it through his wounds, slowly stitching each organ and tattered edge of tissue back together, weaving sinew and vein, nerve and bone back into place. By the time he is done, night is falling and the air cold. He shivers and slowly sits up. His body does not feel entirely terrible, so he tries to stand. Dizzy. He sits hard, throws up behind a rock, and tries again. His stomach turns, but holds. So he takes a few shaking steps and brushes himself off, returning to Asgard to finish the work he started with Frigga.

When he arrives, Odin is settled beside her on cushions and pillows. He is planning battle strategy. Loki, pale, dirty, blood coating his clothing, drops to his knees and begins work without greeting him. Odin stares. The guard brought no news of a body, but he most certainly looks as though he should be dead. And then he lays his hands on Frigga's wound and begins whispering. Odin asks what he is doing, but he cannot answer. There is light spiralling around him that tendrils out in whisps and weaves through him, connecting him to the floor, looping up to the ceiling and beyond, and radiating out, touching others in the room with its warm glow. Odin has no idea what he is seeing. The glow wraps itself around Frigga and the whisps around her seek out those around Loki, intertwining, creating elegant and complex knots in the air. And then it fades.

Loki collapses forward, catching himself before he falls on her and weakly pushing back to sit on his heels. He closes his eyes and then slowly melts to the floor beside her, his breathing shallow. Guards rush to surround them as Odin tries to understand what happened. Then her eyes open.

"Loki?"

"Yes, Mother?" he whispers.

She sees him prone beside her, "What happened?"

"Grandmother sent me with a gift from the Tree."

"You...oh no, Loki. It is far to great a burden..."

"It is mine to bear. And you live because of it."

"Thank you. Deeply, truly, thank you." She reaches over and strokes his cheek, "I will help you any way I can."

Odin gives up, "What is going on here?"

"Loki accepted Yggdrasil's power to heal me."

"Nonsense. No one can harness the Tree."

"Not harness. He will be its hands, bound to be its healer for the whole of his life."

"I did it for you, Mother."

"I know, my love. And I have no words for how honoured I am by that."

Loki smiles, his eyes closed, "I am content with my decision. Will you explain it to Thor? Will you explain that I am to do what even the master healer could not?"

"Your victory."

"Yes. My victory."

After a short rest, Loki struggles to his feet, Frigga beside him, and leaves the palace without speaking. He retreats to the cottage and sleeps for what feels like forever. When he finally wakes, Thor is by his side, Frigga cooking supper, Jane assisting her.

"Brother, I am so glad you are alive." Thor gently hugs Loki.

Loki nestles against Thor, "As am I. Did Mother tell you what happened?"

"She said what she knew."

"What she knows is the truth."

"Even this cannot separate us. I will always be beside you when you need me, Loki."

"I know. Grandmother said I would give up my other choices. Others, however, still have the choice not to give up on me."

"Father says he has done some reading. The magic you have sought is ancient and binding. He says he would welcome you back in the palace."

Loki slowly shakes his head as he draws back from Thor's embrace, "No. I cannot do my work from there. There are children to bring into this world, mothers to keep in it, wounded sons in fathers brought in from the fields who cannot wait for a healer to come from so far away. If I am to do this work, I need to stay here."

"I will visit at least weekly. Jane wishes to return to Midgard and to her work, but we will come for supper. Mother has already started making plans."

Loki smiles, "I have been burdened with a glorious purpose."

"You are strong, Little Brother. It will be no burden to you."

"Oh, it will- but to have Mother to work beside and supper every week with my brother, it is one I will bear gracefully and gratefully."

And with that, there came a frantic knock on the door- a child in the nearby village had been caught under a carriage and was near death. He quickly changed into fresh clothing and set off to begin the work.