Hi everybody. Thanks for reading, and reviewing, and following.

(My computer mouse has died during lay-out and won't be resuscitated by new batteries, and I really suck at using the touchpad, so I'll probably end up clicking all kinds of ad banners and mail orders to the left and right of the screen. But I really look forward to getting more reviews from you, guys, and so far there is not much substance to comment on, so let's get on with the story :) )

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, Loki, Thor, Jane et al., and I hold no rights to any of them. I do not make money from this.


+++ Chapter 2: Potential +++

Pleasantries had long been exchanged, but the conversation was not getting any less boring. Thor tried to keep his eyes open and an interested look on his face. This day had started so well, with a gorgeous sunrise and wonderful morning... How he longed to be out there with the Warriors Three and Sif... and, he reflected sadly, his brother.

Loki had always been at a mere arm's length behind, his step in perfect synch with his brother's. Thor had never noticed until the lighter tread in the wake of his own heavy-booted stride fell silent a few months ago.

Loki was no longer available for sharing adventures. Because he was – he was

'Out there!' Thor jumped to his feet, ignoring the irritated look from his father and the flinching movement of their guest. 'Father! It's Loki!' Thor pointed at the peregrine sweeping around the castle's high spires, a dozen blinking objects following at its tail. 'He's under attack!'

'It could be your mother,' mused Odin. 'It would have to be her. Yes. I think I heard her mention she'd borrow Freya's falcon shirt for some urgent errand.'

'It's Loki, I tell you,' Thor insisted, watching the bird use the particular thermal drafts between two towers to flip, roll sideways and power-dive vertically, its belly all but grazing the wall. 'Mother would never fly so – so - .'

'Suicidally,' Odin said. 'You're right: She'd never.' He squinted. 'The bird's carrying a book.'

'These strange things are bearing in on him.' Thor prepared to throw his hammer.

'No lightning!' said Odin quickly. 'He's risking his life to save a book. You want it to go up in flames?'

He was right, of course. Thor reflected on his options: Mjolnir could carry him through the air, at the speed of lightning. But, just like lightning, it could only go in a straight line. No way he could match the peregrine's wild maneuvres or even hope to get close enough to one of the whizzing metal objects to strike.

On the other hand - considering the way they had parted, he thought it not very likely that Loki would follow the invitation to take their stand in a ground fight. Even if it was the only kind of assistance Thor could offer at the moment.

Thor turned to his father, asking, 'Send out Hugin and Munin to help with those strange insects. Meanwhile, I will find a way to join in the fight.'

'It is done,' said Odin, gesturing at his two ravens. 'Go to Heimdall, Thor. It is where your brother was told to go by - '

'Allfather,' said a guard, shocked. 'Lord Brock has disappeared!'

'Jumped at the first opportunity, the old scoundrel.' Odin sighed. 'I really hoped there'd be some feuds settled today. Well, there's hope yet. As I said, Thor, go to – '

'My king,' the guard spoke up again. 'Prince Thor has left, too.'

The Allfather smiled at the door that was softly swinging on its hinges.

Boys will be boys, he thought, as he sat on his chair. But only Asgardian boys will use worlds for playgrounds, explode observatories and hurl lightning at each other.

He closed his eyes, concentrating.

Still, they are my boys. There is hope yet.

I wish they would sort it out.


Loki was not happy to see the two ravens enter his air space. In fact, he was irked. Having to fight in this unusual shape was taking its toll on him, but there was probably not much to be expected from Odin's familiars anyway. Except -

'Have you come here to spy on me?' he greeted them acidly. 'To give the Allfather a detailed report on how his son was made to crash by a traitor's minions?' Loki zig-zagged desperately as he spoke. 'Or to make sure these mechanical beasts bring to bear their weapons just as they should - ?'

Hugin tackled a dragonfly and severed its left wing. Munin took on two other creatures and tricked them them into bumping into each other. They went down in a great puff of grey smoke and sizzling electricity, with Munin already looking about for the next enemy.

Before long, Loki was ready to admit that even the most sophisticated magic could not make up for the genuine thing, a bird's inborn instinct for flight and years of practice. Being true ravens, Hugin and Munin had even mastered the art of flying backside down over short distances, a skill that was unique even among birds and took the enemy by surprise.

Watching the ravens fight, or rather: having enormous fun with a swarm of curious toys, Loki found precious seconds to take stock of the situation: Maybe he would not have to escape at all? He still didn't know where to go. 'To Heimdall,' Frigga had said. But once his presence was revealed to Asgard's guardian...

Don't be silly, he told himself. Heimdall has long noticed you by now, you latest stunt caused such a commotion. The Asgardians must stand in the street, open-mouthed, pointing their fingers at the sky. The only reason you're not in chains yet is that they need to wait for you to land...

Lost in thought, he casually caught the arrow that came his way.

And realized a split-second too late that he didn't have a hand to do the trick.

The sharp pain almost threw him off balance. His left wing was on fire: The arrow had buried its pointy head neatly in the shoulder and continued to sit there. As Loki forced his wing up in order to stay airborne, he felt crushed bones grate on each other. A red blossom of pain unfolded before his eyes, and a thought came along with it: Correct that! They don't wait. They are making you land!

Odin's archers will bring to an end what the fiendish dragonflies failed to achieve.

Again, he forced himself to flap his wings. The arrow head seeming to be blocking the joint. Hugin and Munin were flying beside him now, agitated, helpless. Connected to Odin Allfather's magic though they were, there was absolutely nothing they could do to assist a tumbling comrade.

And then, as if following a silent order, they began to circle each other, like two orbs revolving around one and the same center of gravity. Faster and faster they went, falling away towards a structure that Loki realized was the building site of Heimdall's new observatory.

Got to apologize to him for destroying the first one, the trickster decided, feeling a little light-headed and giddy from the pain and more adrenaline kicking in. If this is what I think it is then my life will depend on his good will.

Hugin and Munin were far ahead now, two black orbs revolving around a white light that had started to glow right in their center of gravity. They had started to narrow their circles, coming dangerously close to each other at each completed round.

Loki shivered, but not only from pain: This magic was too old and too wicked to be even allowed to exist, much less put into practice.

He gazed again, thinking, But how can it feel so beautiful, if it is so wrong?

And he knew the answer: Because you're sky-high on endorphines; magic can feel "good", but never "beautiful". A flower is beautiful. A sunset is beautiful. But this magic feels "good", because it's what Frigga promised when she sent you to Heimdall.

A way to leave Asgard.

Making a desperate decision, Loki angled his wings, dipped his head and surrendered himself to the neckbreaking speed of a power-dive that was the unique skill of a hunting peregrine and could not be matched by any bird.

Except by the ravens of Odin whose names in English signified "Thought" and "Memory", and the creature, god or mortal, that could keep up with those two had not yet been born.


Heimdall turned his eyes upon the sky and the spinning ravens above. He was not surprised, for he had been observant and received his orders. Allfather's Thoughts of the present and Memories of the past entwined in a wild merry-go-round of the two familiars, and where they blended, Potential was created.

Heimdall turned his eyes upon it, assessing, selecting, feeding magic into the delicate fabric – and when he did, potential was turned into reality.

Called into existence for one purpose only...

Heimdall was not taken aback by the peregrine bolting into his unfinished chamber. He was not surprised to hear it address him as it dove past, 'Heimdall, if it means anything to you, I'm sorry, I'msorryI'msorryI'm – '

He had known it would say just that, and answered levelly, 'This is not a personal favor, Loki, and I – '

He was surprised at last, when, instead of diving straight into the portal, the falcon banged against the wall, fluttered in a panic, circled and tackled the exit again. Blood and a few feathers remained stuck to the golden wall.

The portal of Thought and Memory swallowed the peregrine, accelerating the dazed bird once more as it sent him thundering through space like a feathered cannonball. Toward the destination that Lady Frigga had chosen for him when she had come in life-like image to brief Heimdall on his orders.

'Are you alright, my lady?' Heimdall had asked her. He knew the answer, of course. He had seen everything that transpired in the library. But sometimes, you just needed to hear such things from the person herself.

Frigga tucked a wanton lock behind her ear and seemed embarrassed by the presence of a blotch of red on her sleeve, 'I am. Brock's treacherous assistants have been subdued. Fortunately, a troop of guards happened to be close enough to intervene.'

'Fortunately, indeed, my lady.' Heimdall did not twitch a muscle in his face.

Nor did Lady Frigga, 'Thank you, Heimdall. Once again, I shall recommend your watchfulness to the Allfather.'

'I only wish to serve my king and his family to the best of my abilities. Your well-being is reward enough for me,' Heimdall had told her, and he had meant it.

And now, the Allfather's younger son had streaked past, splashing his blood all over Heimdall's wall, and with an arrow stuck in his wing.

Heimdall wondered if that had been part of the lady's plans, too.

Well, Loki's well-being had not exactly been an issue in Asgard of late. And Heimdall had seen him take worse and live - the guardian quickly glanced at his wall - even though he did seem a little beside himself.

Hugin and Munin ceased their mad dance, and the white light died away. (In his room that was still too heated and too empty, with both his sons missing on the errand of their own unfinished business, Odin Allfather gasped softly and clutched at his spear. But this was only witnessed by the guards, and they would not tell a single soul, god or mortal, living or dead.) Thought and Memory disentangled themselves, and the two ravens settled on both Heimdall's shoulders. They ruffled their feathers and moved their beaks to make soft, cracking sounds. All in all, they looked satisfied with an assignment well fulfilled.

And a little concerned, all the same.

'Don't worry, boys.' Heimdall directed his gaze to the field of stars outside. 'I have my eyes turned upon him.' He looked off into the distance. He blinked. 'On second thought: Maybe you two are right to worry. Absolutely right.'


There had been a series of meterological peculiarities in the sky of New England, and Jane, Erik and Darcy had gone there to investigate. The girls would have been content to stay in a trailer, but Erik insisted that they rent a house. He was getting too old for sleeping bags and canned beans. He needed a real bed and a chest freezer well filled with a variety of supplies.

He had offered to bear expenses, as far as they exceeded the average rental prize for a decent three-person-trailer.

So, they had come to stay in this house that featured a bedroom for each, a well-equipped kitchen, a basement for keeping the supplies and even a patch of lawn to separate the front door from the curbstone. Ready-furnished and spacious (and costly) enough to house an entire university department.

And the investment didn't seem to pay off.

The truth dawned on Erik as he sat at his computer in the gathering gloom of early evening, running a level two analysis on the data they had collected during those past few days. Green figures marched over a dark background in endless columns, and an occasional graph flickered on and off to visualize the process. Years of experience in this field of study already told Erik that no new, earth-rocking discovery would be made.

Speaking of rocking...

He realized that the water in his glass was moving. Not in those spreading circles that had become widely known as harbingers of large reptilian predators approaching. More in the quivering way that told of a great thunderstorm building up just above... the roof?

Erik looked to the window and saw the gigantic mouth of a hurricane open over his darkening front yard. Clouds of slate gray, sulphur yellow and algae green swirled, then a blinding white light shone up and spit out a crumpled figure.

Thor (for who else could it be?) was supposed to land with a clap of thunder and well on his feet. This time, however, he was discarded like something that was not to Bifrost's taste and was smashed to the ground brutally.

Erik hurried outside, the thunder god's name on his lips.

But his feet faltered, then stopped: The stunned man on his lawn was not blonde and muscular, but dark-haired and lean. He had landed prostrate, but now he turned over to lie on his back, spread-eagled. He stared into the sky with eyes that were just too dark to be of steel blue, even though their actual colour could not be identified in the dusk. His face was so pale it looked like a mask.

Erik saw the stranger blink his eyes a few times, hard, as if trying to remember what had happened to him and why. Then, he turned his head and said in a pleasant, gentle voice, 'If you're going to call me "Thor" but one more time, I'll have your head on a spear and your guts dangling from Asgard's highest tower.'

'Tho- ,' stuttered Erik, 'Tho th-thorry...'

'Once Asgard's highest tower is at my disposal, of course.' Loki sat up, put his elbows on his knees and the heels of his hands to his forehead, and grimaced. 'Next decade. Or the century after. I'll get back to you when I'm all set, alright?'

'You're bleeding,' said Erik, which was a dire understatement: The shaft of a short-bow arrow was protruding from his visitor's left shoulder, and the silky brown-and-golden shirt he wore over his coat was soaked and heavy with blood.

'Name's Loki,' Loki said with gritted teeth and pretended not to notice the human's flinching movement. He remembered something and hastily probed for the book. He found it beside him and quickly stowed it away in his coat.

'Loki?' said another voice from the door. 'Where's Thor?'

The man made a hushing gesture, but Loki cast the woman a quick glance and decided that she was too attractive to separate her from her guts just yet. Then he recognized her. He had seen her image shining in his brother's eyes during that final fight in Heimdall's observatory. Of all the potential places Heimdall could've sent him, why had it to be this front yard?

That's not really a question you're asking yourself, is it? You know why they sent you here - big bro won't have to look wide and far, he'll just have to pay sweetums an overdue visit...

'That's what I'd like to know,' Loki rasped, wishing for the world to stop spinning and for his shoulder and, like, a million other places to stop hurting. 'Where's Thor when I need him?'

Jane Foster had looked up hopefully, but realized that Bifrost – or whatever that unknown anomaly was called - had closed.

So she turned to the one visitor it had admitted.

'Well, where were you, when – ' she began irritably.

'Nice alliteration,' said Loki. 'If you should ever give up your occupation of being worried for my brother you should consider starting a career as a skald.' He leered at her, purposefully, 'I might hire you.'

Jane gasped for air, then inhaled again – she was gong to need a lot of air for what she was about to say. Darcy stood behind her and tugged at her shirt. 'Jane? Don't.'

'Pray, do,' Loki challenged, giving a mocking laugh that did not quite reach his eyes. 'Anytime.'

'But not right now. I agree.' The man moved as if to put his hand behind the swaying god's back. Loki merely looked at it, and the mortal thought better of it.

'Jane. Darcy,' Erik said, trying to sound as reasonable as he could. 'We've got a lot of blood here, and no one to help us with it.' He glanced at Loki. 'At least, I assume you didn't come here for us to call the paramedics?'

'Thor gave a report on your sick wards, Midgardian. I have no wish to go there.' Loki looked at the lighted window and a distinctive expression of longing passed through his eyes, then was gone again. 'Your grand hall will suffice. For the moment.'

'So, it's my grand hall, then,' sighed Erik. 'I just hope you'll find it "grand" enough for your purposes – oops, easy!' He reached out and caught Loki as the god stumbled. This time, Loki did not refuse the assistance.

'I'll get some hot water,' said Jane, reluctantly.

'I'll get my taser,' said Darcy.

Jane stopped in her tracks, 'What?'

Darcy waved her hand at the battered trickster, 'Look at that arrow. Do you think who-ever put that into him will just say "Oops, bridge's closed for tonight, let's finish him off another day"?' She narrowed her eyes, 'Besides, he's the bad guy, remember?'

'Which brings us back to the original question,' panted Erik, swaying under the weight that Loki found it increasingly convenient to transfer on to the mortal's shoulders. 'Where's the army of light? Where the hell is Thor?'

+++End of Chapter 2+++


A/N: At the end of chapter 1, I said that I would go on as soon as I figured out how the Asgardians could still travel between realms when Bifrost was destroyed. To come up with an answer, I spent some thoughts on Loki's statement in the "Avenger" movie - that Odin would have had to spend a lot of dark magic to get Thor back to his beloved earth. Well, I could easily imagine the Allfather using present and past to enable Loki (or anyone, in a situation he deems worth the hassle) to have a future. I could also imagine easily what would happen to any one magician trying this at home and without the Allfather's consent, so I guess in Asgardian terms it would be labelled "dark magic" indeed... (And male ravens really are known to fly upside down over short distances. They do it to impress the girls... :) )

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