A/N: This chapter takes place in the fall following Jane's and Thor's wedding just in case my readers are unsure of the what's and where's. :)

Asgard

November 2014

It would've been a lie saying everything worked out after Hermione and Loki escaped Jotunheim, hopped over to Earth's Puente Antiguo desert, and were safely transported to Asgard via Bi-frost. The return to the Realm Eternal was a quiet one. There was no celebration for the prince's homecoming. In fact, Thor did not announce to his people his brother was alive and well until a week later. In no way did he want Loki's rescue to be associated with Hermione's return from "Midgard", and she was grateful for it.

A month passed since Jotunheim, and Hermione's pride started to fray. Thirty-three days being upset with Loki was taking its toll on her. The moment they crash-landed into Asgard there was an unspoken agreement they would take a break, and Hermione was certain he would crack first. He always did. It was their game. He'd get upset with her, cast her aside before he did something he regretted and then seek her out five minutes later when he cooled off.

Apparently the frost giants tortured his game-playing antics out of him. Not once in those thirty-three days did he seek her out. Thirty of those days, and she wondered if he was waiting for her to come to him this time. Well…if that was the case, he would have to wait longer.

Poking at her eggs, Hermione glanced up from her breakfast plate to see Loki reading a book over his untouched food, and she admitted to herself that she was kind of afraid he was done with her. For real this time.

She couldn't be the one to go to him.

She wouldn't.

Her pride frayed a bit more and not only that, she began to feel guilty for thrusting that ultimatum on him back in that cave. Ultimatums were sometimes necessary, but they could also be selfish and a poor way in getting the upper hand in a relationship. Relationships were not about having the upper hand but being on level with each other, and she'd demanded he yield to her and for what reason? She wanted a baby? With him? With some other bloke?

No.

She inwardly shook her head and set down her fork, resting her head on the support of her elbow.

No, her ultimatum hadn't been about getting a baby from him or any other man. She could achieve that simply with a splash of patience and good planning.

Hermione told Loki in the cave about compromise which was fine if she'd meant it. Truthfully, she really just wanted control of the relationship because she thought too highly of herself.

This was not the first time she'd pulled a stunt like this. She'd said and done similar things at the beginning of hers and Ron's relationship, and he had taken it like he didn't know better because he hadn't. Loki did know better, and he was punishing her for it which meant she angered him enough this time that not only did he—metaphorically speaking—throw her out of his room, but he bolted the door.

It didn't help Asgard was playing host to Vanaheim's royalty for the month in honor of the Realm Alliance Thor, Jane, and the rest of the council members were trying to assemble. That part was all well and good, but the guests were searching for something a little more solid than participating in the union.

Hermione was stupidly comforted by the ambivalence Loki showed towards Princess Aslaug of Vanaheim. Jane had informed Hermione over tea and biscuits two days following King Alvid's and Princess Aslaug's arrival that the king was pressing Thor for an arranged marriage between his sister and Loki.

"It doesn't matter she looks like a hybrid between Tyra Banks and Beyonce," Jane quipped, mouth full of sugary biscuits, "Loki's not going to touch her on principle. Thor knows this better than anyone, but we have to play nice with Vanaheim."

Princess Aslaug was sitting next to Loki, the perfect picture of beauty and elegance. Her spine was straight and proud, her dress rose petal pink and her skin the color of rich, expensive chocolate. She would speak to Loki in a strange, eerie language, and he would respond flatly, not looking up from his book.

The princess's patience was wearing thin, and Hermione watched her put a gentle and almost unassuming hand high up on his arm. A flare of jealousy and possessiveness shot through Hermione, and she turned her head to see Jane who had that faraway look in her eyes again. It was ironic. Her cousin had dreamt of stars and galaxies and such, but when an actual prince charming came and whisked her away to live amongst them, she fantasized of home.

Home.

Hermione didn't blame Jane. She wanted to go home, too. Maybe they should both leave. Take Daphne and go back to London.

Jane would never agree. She was stuck in that kind of love with Thor where she wasn't one hundred percent happy but would be completely miserable without him. Nonetheless, she was a scientist and not a queen. Her existence were theories and scribbled notes, not ruling and real life.

Hermione supposed Jane wasn't just a scientist anymore nor a queen. She was a mum before both and would stay in Asgard forever, even if Daphne one day became the only reason Jane would stay.

In the middle of the discussion Thor was having with King Alvid, Thor paused and turned to Jane. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, whispered into her ear, and then kissed her knuckles before turning his attention back to the other king.

Like a charm, Jane no longer appeared homesick and smiled wistfully to herself.

An hour later when Hermione was to meet her cousin in the main library to help Jane organize her notes, she found Jane and Thor in a compromising position.

The notes Hermione was to help with were askew, strewn and spread over the study table and floor. She stood there, off to the side, for an embarrassing amount of time before backpedaling out the library and into the corridor. Her cheeks were inflamed, and she would've laughed if she was fifteen years old, a boy, and not Jane's cousin.

She resided to be traumatized and scoured the halls, now having nothing better to do since her plans were cancelled. Daphne was with her caretaker and most likely napping, so snuggling and playing with her was out of the question. There was the possibility of finding Loki and apologizing, but that prideful blockade in her brain kept her from it. Somehow she'd have to destroy it before she lost the key to Loki's bolted door, and their break fell into a break up, and the apple he tricked her with had really turned into a big waste of both their lives.

Passing by the terrace looking out over the gardens, Hermione decided to have her fill of fresh air and stepped outside. Inhaling the crisp air of the kingdom, she rested her elbows on the stone railing and paid no mind to the accusing, beady glares from Hugin and Munin. They stared at her hungrily, one of them squawking at her long and slow.

For whatever reason, Odin's horrible birds hated her more than they did Jane. She didn't know why. She'd done nothing to them. Absolutely nothing. The first time she'd even seen them had been four days after Jotunheim, and it was like she couldn't avoid them.

"I'm going to pretend you're not even here," she said, not bothering to look at them. "Because I hate you."

A festival was taking place all this week, thus, the reason why Vanaheim's royalty chose this particular week to visit. Palace workers and groundskeepers were littered about the gardens setting up tents and lights in preparation for the first night of celebration. Despite her somber mood and utter selfishness, she was looking forward to all the activities she'd see. Maybe too much to drink, laughter, and food would take her mind off how badly she wanted Loki to come to her and how badly she wanted to go home.

Biting her lip, she squinted when the sun peaked out from behind the clouds and tried to think of way to leave Asgard without offending Jane. There were many scenarios, many lies Hermione could cook up, but dishing them out may not be the best approach. Jane wished to go home, too, and Hermione wouldn't have trouble playing on that. Leaving forever perhaps wasn't the best option but a holiday on Earth would be nice.

Hermione knew doing that was akin to running from her problems. Loki was not allowed to be on Earth, so he'd be stuck here with the other council members whilst she, Jane, Daphne, and Thor lounged about on the beaches of Kos.

Now she was getting ahead of herself but with the Asgardian air shifting to nippy and her mind clouded with indecision, a white sandy, blue water vacation sounded divine. She'd freckle more than tan because she wasn't thirteen anymore and drink more orzo and wine than suggested. Books waiting to be read would weigh heavy in her satchel, and she would think of nothing or no one while laying on an inclined chair and enjoy hearing the waves of the ocean crash into the shore.

As for Jane and Thor, they'd be elsewhere. Jane would take him and Daphne on a tour of the ruins, explaining the gods her ancestors worshiped. She would tell him stories of Olympus and Troy, and he would listen intently like an enthralled student in love with his attractive history teacher.

Ah, there she was getting ahead of herself again.

Taking the stairs adjacent to the terrace and walking the grounds, Hermione entered the gardens, submerging deep within the maze-like landscape. Twenty minutes in, she rested at a clearing on the edge of a fountain, pulling out a book from her pouch where she kept her wand. It was an old journal from five years ago. The purpose of it was to not write down her angst-ridden troubles or happy events life tossed at her. No, the journal was one of many, and they were her "memories" of when she was a hit witch. These were her missions, and she started reading them again after she left Jotunheim.

Hugin and Munin flew above her, circling like they were buzzards and she was roadkill before swooping down and landing beside her. She stared at them for a while and said, "I killed people."

Munin spread his wings and snapped his beak at her, and Hugin did his weird, long squawk again.

"Do you want to know the first person I killed?" she asked them. "I do, too. I didn't know her at all. I never saw her before. I didn't know what she did to deserve her fate, but it was my final test, and I had to pass it. I never fail." She strained her head to stare over her shoulder at the water falling behind her from the fountains spout. "Not then, anyway."

The ravens watched her intently, their massive fowl bodies not moving at all. She smiled at them and opened her journal to the page her thumb was trapped on, and she read aloud in a quiet voice, "His name is Gellous Frack. He specializes in human trafficking. He has other talents about him, as well. New Orleans is his playground, but all over the world, people feel his misdeeds. He…"

Her voice hitched and she closed the book. There were many reasons why she waited as long as she did to reflect on those years. It wasn't like she pretended they hadn't happened. She pretended it was someone else because it had often felt like being a stranger when she'd been out in the field. When she'd killed, she never was Hermione Granger. She'd been Morgan Black, Allison Kane, Delly Ford, Bianca Korchv. The list was damned near endless, all of those women were nothing like herself.

Although in Jotunheim when she cursed that valley and the fire consumed all in its pathway, including living giants, that had been her, hadn't it?'

Loki knew more than Hermione was comfortable with about her world of magic. He knew too much from their pillow talk back in March, but he didn't know about this. No one really did, honestly. Jane believed her to be in law enforcement, and Ron knew the surface details and lies. She was a hit witch, and she often collaborated with Aurors from other countries to ensure a criminal's capture. The second part was completely false. She had never dealt with Aurors when doing her job. They were their own thing on the purer side of law. Their department played by the rules while hers had very little rules to begin with. Their priority was not capture.

Opening her journal again, Hermione went to the first page, far from where she'd originally been. "Let's not read from there." She cleared her throat and read, "Chantel Burhman resides in Zurich. An anonymous tip has lead us to her, finally, after four years. Because of where she resides, there cannot be a public arrest nor is the higher-ranking ministry officials interested in conducting one. On my arrival there tonight, she will be offered a chance to leave Zurich and Switzerland if she turns herself in. If she does not comply, a hasty trial and execution will take place for her crimes—the treason she committed against her country by selling England's secrets to Syrian rebes which lead to the massacre in Hogsmeade, Winter 2005. There, many civilians which included students and younger children alike, were killed."

Hermione continued reading for over an hour, to the point where her throat ached. She smiled sadly at Hugin and Munin, and closed the book. "I think that's enough, don't you?" She shoved the journal into her pouch and started to meander her way out of the garden, stopping after a while when seeing two figures in her peripheral residing in a dead end. It was Loki and Princess Aslaug.

And they seemed to be getting along quite fetchingly as compared to breakfast.

Princess Aslaug must've sensed her, for she pulled back from Loki, her eyes wide from embarrassment. Hermione kept her focus on her and her alone.

"I'm sorry," Hermione apologized and pointed at nothing, shrugging. "I was just…out walking. I didn't mean to intrude. Forgive me." She ducked her head and ran out of the gardens and into the palace, sprinting to the library and finding Jane with her notes and no Thor to be found.

"Hey, where were you?" Jane asked concerned, taking in Hermione's breathless state.

Exhaling heavily, Hermione smiled brightly. "I decided to go for a walk in the gardens and watch the groundskeepers decorate. It was really nice, and I'm not good at physics anyway—"

"Okay—"

"But I was thinking," Hermione stole the seat next to Jane, "after the festival is over we should all take a holiday back home. We can go to Kos. Thor will come, and it will be perfect."

Jane opened her mouth and then closed it, covering her mouth with her fingers and tapping her lips. "Huh."

"That's all you have to say?"

"No, it's just Thor told me a couple of hours ago he wants to do the same."

"He wants to go to Kos?" Hermione wrinkled her brow.

"Earth, Hermione. And, no, we're not going to Kos as fabulous as that sounds. He's going to introduce me to Tony Stark. Tony may have the resources and brains to jump start my very own Project Bi-frost. I can't work with this." Jane gestured to her surroundings. "I've been here for almost a year, and the technology still flabbergasts me. I'm lucky enough to know how to turn on my shower, so…you, Daphne, Thor, and I are leaving for New York City after the new year. It's not Kos—"

"It's perfect." Hermione kissed Jane on the cheek.

Later, when Hermione was sitting at her vanity primping for the festival, Loki appeared in her mirror. His expression was neutral, and her defenses were up. For the better part of the afternoon, she convinced herself not to shed a single tear over what she saw in the gardens. She and Loki were not together, and he could kiss anyone he wanted. It had hurt, but she was strong and stubborn. No one would dare accuse her of anything less.

So, yes, her defenses were up, but she would not be indigent or petty.

Gripping her tube of mascara from her makeup kit, Hermione untwisted the cap and said, "May I help you with something?"

"I wanted to discuss what you saw in the garden earlier."

She shook her head, a small grin tugging at her lips. "We don't need to talk about it, Loki. It's not my business. We're not together, so even if I was, I wouldn't have a right to be. Plus, we don't really work. We fought all the time. It'd been fine, even fun at first, but then our disagreements became too serious, and neither one of us handled them right. If it were merely our differences keeping us from being happy, we'd find away. It's not that, though. We want different things, and neither of us want to compromise."

"She kissed me."

"You certainly looked like you didn't mind." She snapped her mouth shut, chastising herself for the outburst. Her tone had been indigent, damn it!

An arrogant grin split Loki's face in half. He arched his brows at her and said, "You've seen her, Hermione. Can you blame my hesitation in pushing her away?"

"You didn't have to push her away at all, you know? You could've...kept on going," she offered, shrugging. "Doesn't matter to me."

"It doesn't?" He locked his hands behind his back. "You're not the least bit put out? Or jealous?"

"I don't get jealous," she lied. "It's beneath me."

"Is that so?" His smile was still unnervingly shrewd. "Ah, well. I guess our affair has been exhausted then. You feel nothing for me which is good. It means you won't be at all upset when mine and Princess Aslaug's engagement is announced at the end of the week. I admit, it's not something I'm particularly happy about, but it's for the benefit of Asgard. The ties with Vanaheim need to be stabilized and secured, and I came here to explain that to you, so you'd know why the princess was so eager. I have appearances to uphold. Once she and I are married, however, I'll naturally have a mistress and since you are no longer interested-"

Unthinkingly, Hermione grabbed her brush from behind her and chucked it at him and quaked with mirth when it hit him square in the face. A part of her thought it would go through him, for he had a horrible habit of projecting himself. Like he knew if he visited with anyone for more than two minutes, it was likely something would get thrown at him.

The brush hadn't hurt him, but it wiped his face clean of his stupid smile.

"Did you just throw a brush at me?"

Hermione stood up and grabbed her wash bowl from the pedestal beside her and tossed it with all her force. It broke into several pieces when it hit his chest, and she yelled, "Get out!"

"Jealous now, are you?" His smirk was so malicious, so evil, it made Hermione's insides twist.

"You're not trying to make me jealous, Loki. You're trying to hurt me. Really hurt me. You succeeded, so you can go."

Loki stilled and his facade broke. His eyes lingered on her face pensively, and he said, "I didn't mean any of that, Hermione."

"Oh, I know." She scoffed and folded her arms. "I know you're not going to marry her. There would never be a good enough reason for you to suffer an arranged marriage. You don't care about the ties with Vanaheim, and you certainly don't care about the princess, save she's pretty enough. But you wanted me to believe otherwise, even for a second, because you wanted to me feel bad about myself when I was trying to be cordial-"

"Cordial?" Loki sputtered. "There's not a cordial bone in your body, darling. You have all right manners, but it's spread thin over your temper and pride. I caved each and every time in the past post a dispute and returned to you, and you couldn't pay the same respect this one time. I thought you would at first, so I waited and waited like a fool because you said..." He chuckled emptily. "Well, I learned long ago women to be fickle."

Hermione frowned and stepped closer to him. "I risked my life to save you, so I was angry. I wanted a sign of good faith in return. I laid out all my feelings, wants, and desires for you to see. And you responded exactly how I feared you would. Indecisive. Childish. Annoyed. Because of how you reacted, I behaved irrationally by confusing control with compromise. I gave you the ultimatum, and it wasn't fair. But I didn't try to fix the problem at all when we got back, not only because of my pride but because I was really put out. I told you I loved you, and I meant it. You couldn't even agree to teach me Aesir."

If Loki had a quick, witty response, he kept it to himself. No words were exchanged until Hermione eventually commented ruefully, "I don't want Princess Aslaug to kiss you anymore."

A twinkle sparked in Loki's eyes. "I don't want you have a child with a stranger."

"But it wouldn't be-"

"Hermione," he said, reaching out and pinching her chin. It was a gesture of admonishment, simple. She rushed to him, encircling his middle and leaning her head against his chest. It wasn't exactly comfortable; he was dressed in his armor sans the helm. Hard, metal pieces and cold leather pushed against her cheek, and she sent a bemused glance up his direction. Was he or was he not going to return the embrace?

"Damn you." The curse came out as a sigh, and he cupped her head, bringing their lips together. The angle was non-ideal, straining for both of them, so she raised up on her tiptoes and parted her mouth for him. Still unsatisfied, he picked her up, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You Midgardian women are peculiarly tiny," he said in the middle of their kiss, his fingers diving into hair and his opposite hand clutching her tightly at the small of her back. "How do you fetch items on high up shelves?"

"We charm tall gentleman in retrieving them for us," she replied, her lips never really leaving his. Her legs hiked up around his waist, and he growled hungrily.

"We haven't time," he hissed, separating from her and walking to the bed. He released his hold on her, and she fell gracelessly on the mattress, legs dangling off the edge.

"Do you actually care about the festival?"

Loki sank to his knees, and her jaw slackened in surprise. "King Alvid asked I escort his sister the entire evening."

Hermione rested her upper weight on her elbows and glared down at Loki who was bunching the heavy material of her dress to get at her legs. He groped them obscenely and pressed a tender smooch to her left inner knee. Her right leg came up, bending, her foot resting on his shoulder. He pursed his lips at her in question, and she shook her head saying, "No."

He nipped at her ankle. "You enjoyed it before."

"That's not what I'm talking about. I don't want you around her, Loki."

His smirk was so delightfully pleased, she fantasized about kicking him in the stomach. "I have princely duties I must adhere to." He coerced her leg to drop and massaged her thighs. His eyes darkened at her exposed skin and rasped out, "It's been too long. I don't..." She watched his chest stutter and his Adam's apple bob. He swallowed and clenched the bunched material of her dress. She expected him to shove it up around her waist and finish what he started, but on the contrary, he tugged her dress down her legs, covering them.

"Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed," she said, confused. "Something wrong?"

"Come to my quarters tonight. I'll have you then. All of you and all night long."

Hermione relaxed, nodding. She flatted a hand on his stomach, rubbing him. "To forewarn you, Loki, I plan to stalk you this evening. If I catch Princess Aslaug kissing you again, I'll have no choice but to decline your invitation. I don't share."

He stilled her moving arm and used it to her pull her up and spin her so her back was against his front. She laughed throatily and melted into him, and he whispered into her ear, "The same goes for me, Hermione. I refuse to share this." He squeezed her bum. "This." He palmed her left breast, and she blushed. "And definitely not this." His wandering hand slithered downwards and stopped before she thought it would. Spreading his long, nimble fingers, he cupped her belly.

Her heart flew up in her throat, and she cleared it. "Is that so?" Her voice was barely audible. Was he...? Was he hinting that maybe he would...?

Yes, there was implication, and there was so much more to think about. She wasn't even sure if he was capable. Or for better words, they. They were two different species."

Jane and Thor were, as well, Hermione supposed. Apparently, however, Thor had everything a mortal, male Earthling did. Loki was a frost giant. He didn't look like one, but she saw his true form. Unless his glamour extended to his re-productivity, Hermione wasn't counting on a baby any time soon. Or at all. And even if they could, how would it impact her. She touched Loki in his icy, blue state. Lessening that cold by half and sticking it inside her would still kill her.

Loki would have to know this or be concerned about it, at least.

"Sweetie," she said gently, covering his hand with her own. "I'm thrilled you think so, but can we even have that? I've been doing some thinking-and don't think I dislike any part of you-I wonder about our genes."

"What do your ghastly Midgardian clothes have anything to do with-"

"Not jeans like trousers. Genes like a person's genetic makeup. How many chromosomes do you have? Not in all of your body, but I'm talking on a cellular structure-"

"Ah. You're speaking of biology. I understand now." Hermione placed his other hand on her stomach, and he kneaded the flesh over her dress. He kissed her temple and said, "I don't think the present to be an ideal time to reproduce."

"But can we eventually? That's what I'm asking. Is it possible? For real? Will our diverse genetics allow it?"

There was a pause and then Loki answered, "We are all scattered seeds from the branches of Yggdrasil."

"And?"

"Are you asking if our spawn would be blue?"

"I think I'm more concerned about it being cold."

"I can't foretell if it will be an abomination or not, Hermione," his said sharply.

Hermione turned to face him, looking up at him and her mouth pinched in a frown. "It wouldn't be...never mind." She rose up on her toes and pecked him on the lips. "We'll talk about this later. I'll see you at the festival, all right?"

Loki replied by kissing her, and then he was gone.

True to her word, Hermione kept a lookout for Loki and Princess Aslaug. As far as she could tell, they hadn't kissed and she felt confident enough to sneak up to his bedroom and knock on the door when no one but the palace guards were awake. Four of them resided on each side of the double doors, not paying her a second glance when they recognized her.

One of the doors opened, and she slid inside, shutting the barricade behind her and bolting it. Her eyes swept over the room, Loki nowhere to be found. The lights were on, though, and there was an open book at his desk. She checked the terrace, and he wasn't there, either.

The book on his desk made her brow arch. Loki must've been pilfering in her room because the book was one she authored several years ago. She flipped through the pages and saw he had written notes in the margin and just her luck, they weren't in any language she recognized. For all she knew, they could be doodles for how bored he was from the material.

Long, lean arms wrapped around her middle, and Loki rested his chin at the top of her head. "Snooping, are you?"

"It's my book. You stole it. Your thieving gives me full right to snoop." Pressing herself against him, she asked, "Do you like it?"

"No."

Hermione laughed.

"Is it really based off true events?"

"Mmmhmm."

"And they occurred centuries ago, correct?"

"Uh huh."

"Then I stand by my initial perception of Midgard. Your kind does not learn from their mistakes. Misconstrued thinking and mass murdering are still occurring. Your precious realm is no better now than it was in 1296 A.D. when your silly book took place."

Hermione lowered her gaze to the floor. "I can see why you'd think that."

"Freedom. It's a curse."

"Mmm."

"All right," he said, sighing, reaching down and closing the book. "I could go on about how much I dislike your realm and the reasons, but it would be a waste to your lovely ears. You may understand my views, but you'll never agree with them. I know an activity we both like and are rather good at when done together."

Well into the early parts of the morning, as the noises of music and laughter from the festival began to subside outside, Hermione woke up, her body aching and battered from Loki's attention. She groaned contently, relishing how good and bad she felt. Rolling over onto her side, she peeled one eye open and saw Loki awake and alert, staring at the ceiling. One of his arms was tucked underneath his head, and a troubled frown pinched his lips.

"What's the matter?" she asked, her voice raspy and her throat sore from sleep and screaming.

He moved his arm out from under his head and beckoned her closer. She shifted closer, molding her front to his side and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Nothing's bothering me, my pretty witch." His words tickled her forehead, and she laid her palm over his chest and loved and hated how right this felt.

It was then she made the decision not to go digging through her old journals anymore, and what she might've wanted in alternative to Loki didn't matter. She had him now. He was hers, and she wanted a future with him.

Tilting her head up slightly to look at him, she said, "I love you."

"When I'm not being an imbecile."

She shook her head no. "All the time. I love you so much, Loki. I do want eternity with you."

His chest stuttered beneath his fingers, and a mixture of a chuckle and sigh shot out of his mouth. He rubbed his eyes and forehead with his free hand and said, "I see. Well, then. That certainly uncomplicates one of many issues we're currently facing."

Furrowing her brow at his distant words, she threw a leg around him, straddling him. "Don't you love me, too? Even a little bit?"

Beneath the covers, his splayed fingers rested on her naked hips and said, "Spend the day with me tomorrow."

"Loki," she admonished.

"I originally planned to project an image of myself for Princess Aslaug to jaunt about with while I took care of far more interesting matters." His naughty fingertips skimmed her ribs and the dip of Hermione's waist. "Now, I have no desire to string her along. The more I'm around her, the more she wants me." He grinned that horrid grin of his. "Not that I blame her."

"Do whatever you want tomorrow. I'm going to be taking care of Daphne. Jane needs to work, and the caretaker's great-grandmother passed away. Until she comes back, I'll be caring for Daphne full time."

"Who?"

"Not this again," Hermione muttered. Despite she and Loki not spending a great deal of time with each other the past five weeks, whenever they were in each other's presence with Thor and Jane and one of them mentioned their daughter by name, Loki would feign not knowing who they were speaking of.

"You think it's funny."

She maneuvered off him and reached to light the lamp on her bedside table. "I'm asphyxiating with laughter."

"You might as well. Tomorrow you'll have very little reason to be jovial. You'll be tending to an infant, and they do little aside from sleep and eat."

Hermione fingered the pins in her hair that Loki's ministrations missed earlier and began to remove them. "Since you're so concerned of my attention span not being occupied by a fair partner, why don't you join your niece and I. I think I'm right in assuming you have yet to properly meet her."

"Meet who?"

"You can't pretend she doesn't exist forever. She'll be your queen someday," Hermione reminded haughtily, smirking at his irate face.

"I plan to die before then."

"Oh, is that right? What are you going to do? Command your heart stop beating the day before her coronation? You're so dramatic."

"This conversation is making me ill." His jaw tightened, and he switched looking at her in favor of the far corner.

Unperturbed, Hermione carried on, "I imagine so. It's hard to think that far ahead. And to think I'll be alive to see it. I feel like I should be happy for it. I'll get to see Daphne's great moments. But...I can't say I've accepted yet what you've done to me."

"You'll have many years to get around to it, I assure you." His sigh was heavy and complex. "And what makes you ill about the future differs for me. I'm not terribly thrilled my brother's...whatever you call it...will one day rule Asgard."

"Daphne," Hermione clipped. "Say her name. It's not going to bite you, I promise."

"I suspect by then he and Jane will have a son. He'll rule of course. Naturally." He laughed. "Their she-babe won't have a shot at being queen unless she plucks up the eldest of King Alvid's bastards. Even then, she won't rule Asgard."

"Not that it's any of our business, but Daphne will be the first and last."

Loki stickily tore his gaze from the corner and stared at her patronizingly. "Thor will have his son, Hermione."

Hermione combed through her tangles with hooked fingers, foretelling a stormy argument. She should redirect the traffic from the danger zone, but it was too delicious to pass up. Bickering over non-important things was what they did best.

"He's so entranced with Daphne. He's so good with her, too. She's got him wrapped around her pinky. He wasn't disappointed when he came home from Jotunheim to find her in Jane's arms rather than a boy."

Loki chuckled. "I forget the mistreatment of your sex Midgard is responsible for, and I thought you would've caught on by now Asgard isn't quite like that. Is there equality between men and women? Don't be ridiculous. Men will always be superior, but women are not disappointments. They are, indeed, treasures where men are legacy. And surprisingly that doesn't mean men will be treated better. As you pointed out, Thor is over the stars for the child. He could very well not spread the same sentiment to a son if he so felt. Sure, the boy would get the kingdom, but she'd have her father's undivided attention always."

"It would be arguably worth more," Hermione added belatedly. "I'm spoiled, I guess. I'm an only child, and all my parents assets will go to me when they pass. I had all the attention and love I could ask for from them and others. Jane was in the same boat. As far as we could tell, our parents were never unhappy with us being girls."

"And why would they be? Girls aren't anything to be upset about. That's what I'm saying."

"I wasn't arguing with you." And she really wasn't. Damn. The dispute she thought was going to happen was rapidly dispersing. "But would you be all right if...if we had a daughter when the time was right? There's this silly thing in my family. More than a hundred years ago, my great-great-great-great-great grandfather got himself into a spot of trouble with a witch."

Loki quirked his lips. "Go on."

"My family. Jane and even my parents laugh at the story because it's peculiar. He was a wealthy man with a status and a title and recently married. He was also...not a very good man. He was't known for kindness, especially towards women. One night he took to a local pub and set his sights on a young lady who was passing through. The story goes was that he cornered and attempted to defile her, and she cursed him. And not just him, but his entire legacy. He never begat a son, not even with his many mistresses. Those daughters, they never had boys. So on and so forth. Because of the era he lived in, the family fortune was lost. No male heir to inherit and all that."

Her lover's eyes slit, his blue-green eyes sparkling with interest. "And there's truth in this?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. The evidence is damning and even though I'm a witch, I'm not the suspicious type. But my family on my mum's side is made up of a lot of women, so would you be all right when we add another member to this party we're having, if we have a girl? Would you be mad over her like Thor is with Daphne and be content with just her?"

Massaging his eyes and then forehead, Loki murmured, "I'd rather not discuss children right now, Hermione."

"It needs to be done, Loki. You indicated earlier it could one day happen."

"Exactly and it's not happening today."

"I know, but it's best to prepare for it. Ron and I-" Loki interrupted with a befuddled frown and she reiterated, "My ex-husband and I discussed children before we were even engaged. We talked about it, up until we were ready to try for our own. I don't want to do what Jane and Thor did and have it just happen."

"Oh, but you gave the impression you knew better," he commented wryly.

"However Daphne happened, it does not change how completely unprepared they both were to take her on. Not only as parents but as a couple..."

An expression of surprise contorted Loki's face, and he sat up abruptly. He bent his knees and rested his arms over them and said to her, "You may be right, Hermione. We can't catch ourselves being unprepared. Ah, but wait. You see, I agree with what you're saying. I agree so much in fact, that I want to point out how swimmingly grand we are as partners. It's bond is so solid, for certain it could withstand the weight and responsibility of a child. Furthermore, not only is it solid, our partnership is nothing out of the norm. There's nothing wrong with it. We're fine with our relationship starting as an extramarital affair-"

"It wasn't like that."

"Or that I tricked you into immortality. Let us not forget those months in between the wedding and Jotunheim. Twice, we saw each other. Then these past weeks where we've been so communicative with each other. Hermione," he said, amused, "though our intentions and feelings are held in high regard to one another, we are little more than lovers. You're not even my consort because we are in secret."

Hermione swallowed and looked away, afraid of what he could be implying. Was he suggesting they go public?

You'll have to eventually if you really do want a future with him, stupid! she barked at herself.

"I..." It boiled down to Jane. Her parents, too, she supposed, and Hermione feared telling the latter more. She decided that moment Mum and Dad would never know about Loki. One day she may introduce them to him, but he'd wear a guise and address himself as Lucas or something.

"Picturing your dear cousin's face?" quipped Loki.

"I-I hadn't realized you were interested in coming forward. I thought you a fan of clandestine."

"I do find us enticing in our hidden state, but I'll tire of it. Soon. Vanaheim's royalty will ensure it. It pains me to say this, but Thor's done well in keeping his mouth shut on the real reason why I'm digging my heals into the ground concerning Princess Aslaug. King Alvid's impatience will dissolve, and he'll throw a tantrum on his sister's behalf. When that happens, I'll have to confess the scandalous truth. The queen's cousin and I eloped; therefore, I'm a married man and the old ways of bigamy are indeed over. I can't have you and Princess Aslaug. The late queen would tear a hole through Valhalla and rain terror upon us all."

Hermione closed her eyes and slowly opened them. "Eloped?"

He caressed her jawline and thumbed her lips, and his tone turned serious. "I do not wish for you to underestimate nor overestimate anything, Hermione. You know well enough and probably too much of my thoughts on you. I'll not parade you around Asgard like Thor did with Jane upon her arrival and their engagement. For one, it's unnecessary. For two, the mocking will be nonexistent once we're married. I know it was not so for Jane, but I'm not like Thor. I'm not blind or deaf, and the people of Asgard know this. They also know I'm as resolute as Odin and nowhere near as forgiving as my brother. Anyone who spoke out of turn against you would face severe punishment."

"My God, you're talking about marriage." Hermione shied away from his touch and fell into a stupor, cupping her ribs. Her heart pounded beneath her fingers. She exhaled a slow breath through pursed lips and nodded. "Oh, dear. Sorry, I just...am shocked, and I guess I really shouldn't be."

"You barely said you wanted a future with me. No, you really shouldn't be as alarmed as you're acting." Loki pulled her hair back over her shoulder and leaned forward to kiss her neck.

Hermione chuckled weakly. "You're wanting to do it all the old fashioned way, aren't you? Courting, marriage, and then a family." She laughed again, this one stronger and almost maniacal.

"It pains me to say, but my rebellion must be put to rest. Despite my title, my fellow council members constantly challenge me. They're very good at throwing my past in my face as if I was not their king once."

"I hate to say it, Loki, but marrying me isn't going to change that. If anything, it'll worsen you in their eyes."

"We continue on as we do without matrimony, I'd be more of a mockery than before. It would all come to light at an ill time most likely, and mistresses and bastards of royals aren't meant for broadcasting. I'll not be made a fool of because you're naive and refuse to acknowledge what it means to share a future with me. You may have generously or stupidly forgiven my misdeeds against your world. Maybe you haven't and chose to put it behind you. But, Hermione, there is so much more than dealing with my failures. A future with me includes a life not entirely different than your cousin's, and she'd cut out her tongue before she'd admit to being unhappy but she is. On top of that, I know you're not entirely pleased to be here either, and I heard through the grapevine how delighted you were at the news of visiting New York after the new year. All of this inclines me to ask when you said you want us to have a future, what exactly did you have in mind? I only ask because I don't believe you know what you're getting yourself into."

Regarding Loki stoically, Hermione mulled over his speech, lice-combing it and finding it overwhelming and lacking at the same time. She pinched the bridge of her nose and said, "You may be right, but...I do feel it's you who didn't know what you were getting into when you tricked me."

The air was tense between them, and neither of them spoke for a while until Hermione chose to leave his room, knowing she wouldn't rest for the remaining night if she was to stay in Loki's room. She wasn't angry with him, and she didn't leave thinking he was upset with her. Many important points were said by each of them, and they needed time to digest.

It didn't occur to Hermione until the following afternoon while she lazily picnicked in the garden with Daphne that Loki proposed to her in his own obnoxious, pretentious way. When she and Loki managed to spare an hour post lunch two days before the week ended, she brought it up to him as eloquently as she could muster.

"You want to elope?" she inquired, wincing apologetically at the large, yet feeble steed in front of her. Hermione dug the brush too firmly into the aged mare's side, and she neighed indigently. Hermione had been willfully tending to the a couple of the retired war horses in the stables to pass the day, growing tired of long strolls in the garden and being cooped up in the library deciphering Jane's notes with her ancient Scandinavian manuscript of runes. Loki approached her in the stables, chattier than he'd been since their frank discussions earlier that week.

"Right now? How deliciously tempting" His face split in half, and his brows jumped to his hairline.

Snorting, she toyed with Grani's mane. "No," she said, smiling. "Where would we go to do it if we planned to, though? Do you know someone who could sanction it without stirring trouble?"

"Not here, no. It'd be best to do it in Midgard."

"Would a ceremony done on Earth hold true to Asgard law? I don't think the council nor Thor would accept civil exchanging of vows done in a church or on in a city hall office."

"A piece of paper with Midgardian words would mean nothing, you're right. There are a few select places in your realm we could visit where our marriage could be sanctioned."

Hermione hummed, circling Grani to brush her other side. "You can't go back to Midgard, Loki. You know that."

"I've done it twice before," he reminded arrogantly.

"Exactly. It was stupid. You got away with it because you weren't spotted. Getting married requires people to see you. You'll be recognized and chaos will erupt. It's too risky. We'll be caught, and Thor will be in trouble. So will I."

"The problems you speak of are valid but meaningless to creatures like us." He came up behind her and covered her brushing hand with his own. He kissed her temple and said, "We have magic. We're unstoppable, you and I. With our tricks, we can do what we need to without a fuss."

"Oh, really?" She chuckled harshly. "You may think you don't have to play by the rules, but I do."

He laughed throatily and kissed her temple again, lingeringly. "Do be gentle with Grani, my dear. I fear she won't be with us much longer. No less than half a century left, I'm sure of it."

Loki left her, and she continued tending to Grani and then to Gisl. Afterwards, she wandered to the neighboring stable, greeting the younger horses. She petted Jane's and crooned gently to the smartly polished snow-white steed.

"I'm sorry her highness doesn't come out and see you much," she said to Sintopp. "Jane's deathly allergic to horses."

"How odd, yes?"

Hermione snapped her head towards the entrance of the stable and saw King Alvid standing tall, his chin up and hands linked behind his back. He smiled at her, his teeth perfectly white and straight and his features perfectly handsome. His eyes, though, were cold and knowing, narrowed at her like he believed her a threat.

"King Alvid," she greeted calmly, dipping her chin at him and then putting her eyes on the ground out of respect, "May I help you?"

King Alvid quirked his lips, and he walked towards her, shocking her by grabbing her chin and roughly jerking her head up, so she could look at his face. "You're the reason why the Prince of Asgard won't commit to Aslaug?"

His fingers were bruising her jaw, and she tried to tug at his wrists, but he laughed and yanked her close to him, walking them to stable wall and pressing his larger, muscular form against her. His fingers dropped to her throat, squeezing tightly. His nose dug into her cheek and he hissed, "You were supposed to leave after the wedding and never come back! You were supposed to be a dalliance of Loki's and never be thought of heard from again, but you returned and mucked up everything like a self-righteous whore!" He slammed her skull into the wall behind her, and the pain mixed with her lungs needing air nearly knocked her out.

"I've had my eye on you for quite some time, Lady Hermione. My spies have spotted you making the prince's bedroom door a revolving one. Going in and out as you please. I had hoped these past few weeks when you two severed communication, but I was foolish to think it'd last. He's fond of you." His tone was that of disgust, and she tried to reach for her wand in her pouch, but he was too quick and forced her arm to wall. "How displeasing and at first I had a plan. You'd sever all ties with Prince Loki, or I'd kill your cousin. There's too much that could go wrong, and I wasn't going to risk it. The only way I can have what I want is to get rid of you."

Hermione tried to shake her head. She tried to gasp out a no and tears blurred her vision when seeing King Alvid unsheathe his dagger harnessed low at his waist. Sharp, ungodly agony ripped from the top of her belly button and above to the middle of her ribs. Before blackness consumed her, the taste of copper flooded her tongue.

To be Continued...

A/N: Hey, y'all! I apologize for the hiatus on this thing, but holy cow did this chapter kill me. I rewrote it, like, ten times. It was a nightmare. I couldn't get it just the way I wanted it to. Plus, I was having plot bunnies attacking me on the side, wanting to shove their way into the story, and I was all, like, no! Stay away! There's no room for your furry drama. And they were like, "Bitch, please," with their pink, twitchy noses and started copulating all over the place.

To give away a bit of what may be coming. Initially, I stood by my plan to never introduce Hermione to the Avengers. I've retracted that, and she will meet some of them. However, I am firm in saying she will not join them. Hermione will have her own story, and she'll be much too busy to be dilly-dallying with them. Plus, it would be hugely against the International Statute of Secrecy. The Avengers aren't known for being subtle. ;)

*Sigh*

I also apologize for any errors in this chapter. I'll do another round of clean-sweeping soon, but this is it for now. Please R&R.

Thank you.

J-J