Leaving Taryn in the opulent safe-house Loki had procured for her high in the mountains of Wyoming was harder than anything Loki had ever done.

She did her best to make it easy for him, though. She'd teased him about making sure that the coffeepot had a timer so she could awaken to freshly brewed coffee, just like he was there to make it for her. She'd chosen green sheets so he'd know she thought of him whenever she got into bed. And when he'd summoned the snake he'd won for her–it felt like a lifetime ago–she had cuddled it close while looking into his eyes. "Still reminds me of you," she'd said, and he'd taken her back into the bedroom and broken in those green sheets with so much passion, he'd almost expected them to catch fire.

And Loki had hidden things around the house for her to find, to remind her of him during his absence. One guest room closet opened onto a private beach in the Caribbean. Two of the eggs in the carton held square-cut, platinum-set emerald earrings within their shells–a matching ring and bracelet were stashed in the coffee tin and dishwasher. He also enchanted a crystal vase to regenerate fresh flowers daily, exotic blossoms only found on Vanaheim or Alfheim, precious blooms much treasured by the elves and Vanir.

Not every surprise was so extravagant. He set her alarm clock to his voice, awakening her to, "Good morning, my lady, it is one day closer to the end of our separation," rather than that harsh buzzing he hated. A quick spell on her favorite coffee mug ensured that every time she poured coffee into it, cream and sugar were instantly added to her preference. The television could show her any show or movie, from any country, at any time. And he created a special cell phone that could call anyone in the world and was absolutely untraceable.

For himself, he took only a lock of her hair while she slept and enclosed it with a crystal rose, never to leave his pocket while he was away from her.

But even with all his preparations, when Thor arrived on the evening of the third day since Taryn's San Diego home had been destroyed, Loki seriously considered backing out. This time with her… it hadn't been enough. An eternity wouldn't be enough. After loving her for five long years, having her as his own for only a few short days was far too little for him. He'd known her so well as a friend but he didn't know everything about her as a lover yet, and he wanted to. Gods, he wanted to explore everything about her, but Thor was even now circling with Mjollnir, looking for a spot to land, and Loki's time was up.

Taryn had squeezed his hand tight as Thor finally chose his spot and came in for a landing. Thunder rumbled, shaking the windows. "Closure," she whispered, fully understanding his hesitation, reading his second thoughts as if Loki had spoken them aloud. "Thor will be with you. And you know I'll be here when you get back."

That, at least, Loki did know. With the amount of spells he'd placed on this house, SHIELD wouldn't find her here even if they walked right through the front door. "I won't be gone long," he said, hoping he wasn't lying.

"It will take as long as it takes," Taryn corrected gently. "Family is important, Loki. Take as long as you need."

Thor knocked at the door and Loki finally released her. She smiled at him, brown eyes very bright as she looked at him in his Æsir armor, every bit the prince. "I love you, Loki," she said, and he touched the crystal rose and stored those precious words within it so he could hear them at will.

"My lady," Loki murmured, raising her hand and kissing the knuckles, seeing the blush, loving it. "My heart stays here with you."

And within minutes, he and Thor were gone–vanished through the full-length hallway mirror and emerging from another that had been set up at the Bifrost site near Puente Antigua. Loki shuddered as the desert heat crawled over his skin. "Miserable place," he grumbled, but Thor wasn't listening. He'd immediately cast his gaze up to the churning sky.

"Heimdall, bring us home!" Thor commanded, and the swirling clouds lengthened into a funnel before slamming into the ground around them, drawing Loki and Thor into the magic of the Bifrost.

And then it was too late to change his mind–which of course had been why Thor had rushed him so. Apparently Taryn wasn't the only one who had seen the misgivings on his face. Loki watched Asgard hurtling closer through the multihued magic of the bifrost, tried to brace himself, to gather his thoughts, but the only thing he could see was Odin's disappointment. The only thing he could hear was no, Loki.

Cursing himself for ever leaving Taryn and the happiness she'd brought him, Loki wished he had never let Thor talk him into this madness.

The Bifrost deposited them in a chamber so familiar, Loki could almost believe the destruction of bridge and Chamber had been nothing more than a hallucination. Heimdall slid his sword from the golden holder on the raised dais and held it ready in both hands. "When I Saw you, I did not believe the vision," he said to Loki, his deep voice slow, calm, devoid of accusation or anger. "Yet here you are, returned to Asgard. For what purpose?"

Thor did not move from his place at Loki's shoulder, and although he didn't speak, Loki was glad of his silent support. "To find if there is anything left here for me," Loki replied, not sure what other answer to give.

Heimdall's gaze left him and turned to Thor. "I am sworn to protect this realm from all who would harm it," he said, still cool, still emotionless. "You know this, Prince Thor. Tell me, what message should I take from this unexpected return?"

"No more or less than what my brother has himself told you," Thor replied.

Heimdall was silent for a long time, sword still at the ready. What he thought, Loki couldn't guess. After all, the last time he had seen the Gatekeeper of the Gods, he'd frozen Heimdall with the Casket of Ancient Winters. Would Heimdall bother to banish him back to Midgard, Loki wondered as the silence continued? Or would he merely throw him bodily off the edge again, cast him into the void once more?

Finally, Heimdall spoke again. "I will only admit you to Asgard conditionally, Loki."

"You forget he is your prince." Thor's voice was a stern basso rumble.

"Prince Loki," Heimdall corrected himself, but his golden eyes didn't waver from Loki's. "You will neither hide from my eyes nor walk the secret ways once you pass from this place. Until Odin, our King, once more names you trustworthy, know that my eye will be upon you and my sword ready to defend the realm. Do you accept these conditions?"

Loki chaffed against the restrictions. If he agreed, he would not be able to slip away and see Taryn until he was released to do so by Odin. And Odin might never do so.

Thor spoke again. "You ask much, Heimdall," he said, and now he stepped forward, resting one foot on the lowest step of the dais.

"But not too much," Heimdall countered, firm. "Do you give your pledge, Prince Loki, or would you have me return you to Midgard?"

Loki touched the rose again and thought of returning to Taryn so soon after leaving her, thought of her acceptance, how she wouldn't judge him at all for refusing to bind himself. And he suddenly raised his chin, reclaiming the regal bearing he'd left behind when he'd fallen from the shattered Bridge. "I give you my word, Gatekeeper," he said, not even trying to twist the pledge to allow himself an exit. Taryn had trusted Thor's promise to her, and Loki would do likewise. If this went bad, he would just have to hope Thor could get him out of it. "I will not walk the secret ways between realms, nor use my magic to hide from your view, until Odin again trusts me."

Stoic as he was, Heimdall couldn't hide the flicker of surprise in his gold eyes as Loki spoke. At last he lowered the sword from its ready position. "Then I give you leave to enter Asgard once more," he said, stepping aside to allow the brothers to pass.

"Thank you." The words were bitter, but Loki forced them out. This was just his first taste of the welcome he'd expected, had every right to expect, and was probably the mildest of them all.

Thor was visibly angry as they strode out of the Chamber. "He had no right to demand that of you," he growled, fingers clenching on Mjollnir's handle.

"He had every right," Loki corrected him. And he hadn't asked Loki to relinquish the Casket, which he still held secret in the same dimensional pocket that stored his throwing daggers and a few other treasures. "He is the Guardian, and I am not trustworthy."

Thor growled again, this time wordlessly, but Loki wasn't listening. A distinctive gallop shook the rebuilt crystal bridge beneath him and he grinned. Only one horse in the world sounded like that. "Sleipnir," he breathed as the stallion, riderless, sped toward them. His child in all the ways that mattered, conceived in magic and born in blood and pain–Loki still bore the scar upon his chest where he'd spilled his own blood to give the steed life–the enormous eight-legged stallion was by far the finest steed to ever have lived.

Thor suddenly grinned and slapped Loki on the back. "I told you that you were missed!" he shouted as Sleipnir skidded to a rearing halt before them. "He has not let Father near him since you left us."

Loki hid his smile as Sleipnir nuzzled his shoulder with something less than gentleness. Gift to Odin though he had been, the stallion's first loyalty was always to Loki. "Whoa, easy," Loki murmured when the horse butted him again, making him stumble back a step. "I'm sorry I left you. Nothing went as planned," he admitted. Sleipnir neighed, stomped the bridge, and then leaned a shoulder against Loki with affection and finally submitted to having his nose stroked.

"Will you take us to the Allfather, Sleipnir?" Thor asked as Loki ran his hands over the strong neck, leaning against his strength, looking once more into those fiery eyes–yes, he'd missed Sleipnir. The prospect of riding him again was a thrilling one. Easily strong enough to carry both of them at a full gallop, Sleipnir could make in minutes the trip that would have taken Loki and Thor at least an hour to walk.

"There is no need."

Loki's spine straightened in one convulsive shudder. That voice… He could not breathe, could not move as it rolled over him. That voice had always been utter authority to him, always the final word, the one thing that could not be gainsaid. Once, Loki would have given his soul to hear that voice praise him, to simply say Loki made him proud, and he was ashamed to realize that a part of him still would. Sleipnir pawed the bridge, sensing his creator's turmoil, and whickered deep in his massive chest as if asking what the matter was, but Loki remained frozen.

"Will you not speak, my son?" Odin said, quietly if not softly–that voice could not be soft, was too rich with power for such a thing.

That broke the paralysis, at least enough for words. "Not your son," Loki rasped, and his own legendarily smooth voice now sounded like it scraped over ground glass.

"Always my son," Odin corrected him. "Will you not turn that I may welcome you home?"

A strong hand grasped Loki's shoulder, Thor's or Odin's, he was unsure which. But Loki ignored the silent request and remained staring at the stallion, hands tight in the thick black mane, breath harsh. "Forgiveness has never been so easily won from you," Loki finally said, and itched to add, Father, but didn't dare.

"And it is not now," Odin said, and this was more what Loki had expected. "But your mother weeps for you and I would have her pain end. Prove yourself again loyal to Asgard and be welcomed back to your home, Loki, son of Odin."

Finally, Loki turned–it was Thor's hand on him, not Odin's, which was not a surprise. But the reply came from Thor, not Loki, and that was.

"You caused this, Father, not Loki," Thor growled, and Loki's shock at that proclamation was echoed on Odin's face. Thor released his brother's shoulder and stepped toward their father, back straight, gaze steady. "All through our childhood, you decried deceit. Never was Loki more severely punished than when you caught him in a lie, no matter how small. Yet you lied to him for all these years, and about this!"

"Thor," Loki said, unsure what he planned to say, but Thor waved him into silence.

"All these centuries, you spoke to us of the evil of Jötunnheim, the wickedness of the Jötunn race. What did you expect would happen when Loki learned the truth?" Thor demanded.

"I had hoped he never would," Odin replied, and now he sounded weary–more than he had even before this last Odinsleep.

"A fool's hope," Thor accused, and Loki clutched Sleipnir's mane hard to keep from stumbling in shock. The last time Thor had spoken so to Odin, he'd been cursed and cast out. The very real anger in his voice told Loki that Thor was willing to risk the same and more now, to get this settled between them.

"Perhaps," Odin said. He looked past Thor and Loki met the Allfather's gaze once more. "I had never expected you to encounter the Jötunn and discover the truth so harshly." It wasn't an apology, though, and Loki did not take it as one.

"Knowing Loki, you should have expected him to discover the truth far sooner," Thor persisted.

"Thor, please, enough." Loki was almost as surprised as Thor and Odin at the sound of his own voice. He released his hold on Sleipnir and straightened. "I accept full blame for what I did," he said, and ignored Thor when his brother stepped forward with a cry of negation. "But I would ask you to do the same."

Odin held his gaze for a long time. Then, to Loki's surprise, the Allfather looked away first. "Perhaps it would have been better, had I told you the truth," Odin murmured as if the admission had been wrenched from him.

It still wasn't an apology. But this time, Loki decided it was as much as he was likely to get and nodded to Odin stiffly. The Allfather reached out, clasped his shoulder, but said no more before mounting Sleipnir–the stallion quite clearly looked to Loki for approval before accepting Odin's weight. Loki turned to Thor and offered his brother a smile–small but real. A thanks for his loyalty.

"Come," Thor said, seeing a pair of horses approaching behind Sleipnir. "Our mother is anxious to see you, Loki."