A/N: Dear readers, I broke my own rule: posting chapter 11 before I have chapter 12 done. Why? Because some of my writing inspiration has returned to me and I'm too excited to wait. Also, I sprained my foot due to a series of misadventures this weekend and I've re-edited this chapter a million times until I can't do anything but post it. I have been so encouraged by the reviews I've gotten on this fic so far, you don't even know. And even if you read it without reviewing (I know you're out there!), I'm still encouraged.

Vaguely related self-promotion: If you haven't seen my profile, you may not know that I have a novel, Radicals & Royalists, on Amazon (in paperback and Kindle). It's set in 18th century England, so it's a far cry from Avengers fanfic. But if drama, romance, war, and social history in 1793 sounds at all interesting, I'd be honored if you took a peek at it. This goes for both men and women—in the past week I have had two gentlemen tell me they loved it. Plus, if you read it, you'll find that 1700s British naval officers apparently talk a lot like Asgardians. Who knew.

Thor looked as though her head just fell off her shoulders. "I believe that is a most unwise decision."

"This entire situation is all his fault," Clara said, trying to sound braver than she felt. "And if I'm going to try to sway the opinion of a whole city—of a whole planet—I should find out all I can about the reason why. I've got the source right here—might as well use him."

"Then I must come with you."

Clara remembered the things Loki had said to her before, as well as Tony's little jokes. With that in mind, standing with Thor, in front of Loki, was the last thing she wanted. "I better do this alone," she said. "Maybe you could show me to his cell, and I'll take it from there."

Thor's doubtful eyes would not leave her face.

"I told you I'm terrified," she said. "But if I can deal with Loki from day one, I think nothing else would scare me quite so much. Besides…I kind of want to apologize for that day…you know."

His eyes narrowed slightly. Clara waited for a response, not knowing what he was thinking. Was he trying to see how much fear was really in her heart? Was he thinking her a fool? Did he think she only wanted to harass his brother again?

"What exactly do you intend to do?" he asked.

"Practice," she said. "Maybe well enough that I can get something useful out of him."

"Loki and I were raised together, and concealed nothing from each other in our youth. Now he rarely speaks, even to me. I do not mean to doubt your abilities, but if I can no longer draw useful information from him, it may be best if you 'practice' elsewhere."

"I guess you're right," Clara said. She sighed, remembering the last voicemail she received. She couldn't say for sure that an interview on The Today Show would be less traumatic than a conversation with Loki. She rubbed her eyes and then shook her head.

"No," she said. "No, Thor, please, let me try this. Before I lose my nerve. I mean, if it doesn't work out…what's he gonna do? Considering where he is now."

Thor finally agreed, but was obviously still skeptical when he led her to the now-familiar stone corridor. He nodded to the two guards standing at the entrance to the passage to Loki's cell. When Clara stepped forward to pass them, Thor gently took her arm and kept her back.

"Be patient with him," he said. "Do not try to humble him. Do not let your anger loose, as much as you may want to."

She nodded, wondering how often Thor had to remind himself of this.

"I will not leave before you do," he added, releasing her.

She took a deep breath and walked down the dark hallway. The distance between her and Thor lengthened, but she could still hear the rumble of his voice as he spoke in low tones with the guards. She looked down and noticed the ring; she quickly twisted it from her finger and stuck it in her pocket.

Finally she reached Loki's cell, again reminded of Silence of the Lambs. He was, as usual, sitting on the bench, head down. He looked up at the sound of her quiet footsteps as she came to stand before his window.

His cuts and bruises had healed, leaving smooth, pale skin set over finely sculpted features. After an initial glance, he kept his eyes off of her, perhaps to demonstrate her unworthiness. She could still see the fire in his venomous green eyes, one that imprisonment and a loss of power had not been able to douse. She could hardly imagine what was going on behind them, now that he had an eternity to brood—what hateful plots, ill wishes, and lurking mischief?

Clara felt at a loss for words. Finally, she just said, "Good afternoon."

She watched his face intently, looking for the smallest flinch of muscle, the barest change in breath that would tell her what he was thinking. But his face was a mask, and the only sounds she could hear were the distant voices of Thor and the guards.

"How are you?" she asked. That, at least, prompted a reaction: Loki closed his eyes as though in pain that she dared to address him. Clara was starting to get peeved, stimulating her courage.

"You know, when someone asks you a question, it's polite to respond somehow."

Though he was unmoved by the remark, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I suppose it is polite for uninvited visitors to ask unwelcome questions?"

Oh, yeah, this is starting out really well, Clara thought.

"I know you don't want me here," she said, "but I also know you've got nothing else to do. You might as well talk to me."

He shifted his weight, and she froze. He stood to his feet. Clara fought quietly to keep her face blank, once more reminded of animals at the zoo. Her muscles tensed in fear at seeing him at his full height, even knowing she was out of harm's way. She thought of a tiger yawning, showing off a set of deadly fangs, reminding onlookers that only a few metal bars kept them from having their throats ripped out.

Instead of showing his fangs, Loki just paced slowly, restlessly, across the cell a few times. Still he did not look directly at her.

She picked up the conversation again. "I wanted to tell you that I'm really sorry about what happened last time. I-I tend to get carried away with my camera, and I was already pretty drunk. I'm not usually, but, the stuff you've got on Asgard is crazy strong. I wasn't expecting that, and I got…stupid. But it was rude and…cruel and…and I'm sorry."

Part of her was indignant about apologizing to someone who wrecked her city, launched an alien invasion, and tried to subjugate her planet. Yet it might get him to talk to her. She waited.

At last, something came of it.

"Why should you feel the need to apologize to me?" Loki asked, looking into the distance—at least, as far as he could into the narrow hallway.

"Because I regret…my actions?" Clara offered. "I could tell it—"

It what? Hurt his feelings? Like I wouldn't let him take his turn on the swings at recess? Like he really cares what I think about him?

"I just…I didn't mean it."

"I care not for your motivations, mortal," he said. "Whatever choices you make in your pitiful little existence are no concern of mine."

"Is that so?" Clara asked, her anger growing even more. "What about my choice to help your brother try to fix some of the damage you did to my city? That might be a concern of yours."

She saw a flicker of bewilderment pass over Loki's face; Clara did not wait for him to speak before she continued.

"Though I guess you wouldn't be concerned about that, since you didn't really give a shit about my people in the first place, did you."

He looked at her then, and she instinctively took a step back. Somehow she had forgotten how unsettling it was to meet those eyes directly. One photo hardly did them justice.

"Tell me," he said. His gaze was attentive, his tone—and the faint smirk about his lips—mocking.

"I don't know if Thor said anything about it to you, but I took a job that Odin offered me," she said, not sure what compelled her to share this with him. "One that involves trying to undo what you did to us."

"Is that so," Loki said, moving to sit down at his bench again.

She hardened her tone. "I'm supposed to let the people of Earth know that not everyone in Asgard is as insane as you. Before I started, though, I thought I'd offer you a chance to make peace."

"You speak on behalf of an entire realm?" he asked. His smirk transformed into a full smile. "That is most ambitious of you, mortal."

Again, Clara tried to hide any facial expression. Yet a thought came to her mind—unbidden and unsettling—that wondered what it would be like to see him smiling genuinely at her. A smile not of contempt, but warm—pleased by what he saw.

"Not the entire realm," she murmured, trying to ignore her odd ideas. "Not yet, anyway. I meant just…you and me."

He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers a little. "You call me a madman," he said softly, "and yet you wish to make peace with me?"

She scoffed a little, more at herself than at Loki. "Well, when you put it like that…" Her words faded out. She meant to sound flippant, but could not bring herself to be so. "If my 'pitiful little existence' really is of no concern to you, then we might as well be…"

Be what? Friends? Hell, no. Courteous? Not likely.

"…civilized."

He looked up at her again, his green eyes blazing, his smile gone. Instead, his lips curled in disgust, and she saw the rhythm of his chest alter with his faster breathing. The change happened so quickly that she could not hide her terror. She took several steps back this time.

"What do you Midgardians know of civilized?" he asked. "What do you consider civilized? Cries for peace while you slaughter others without compunction? Bowing and scraping to one a mere step above you as you crush others beneath your thumb? A small group of killers and thieves, no better than the rest, leading a blind herd—all while claiming to champion truth and equality? I have seen your civility, little Midgardian, and what great rewards it bestows upon you all, and I shall have none of it!"

When he fell quiet, his last rasping words still echoing in his chamber, Clara was trembling. She stepped back until she leaned against the wall, her eyes toward her feet. After a few moments, for reasons she could not fathom, she looked back up at Loki. His smile had returned.

"But do not worry," he said. "Your apology is accepted."

She stared at him incredulously, feeling both her heartbeat and her breathing slow down to a less harrowed pace. For the time being, any effort at diplomacy was shaken out of her.

"What…is your problem?" she finally asked.

He narrowed his eyes, considering her for a moment before responding. "I suppose your gallant hero never told you the truth about his…family."

Clara opened her mouth to say that whatever Thor told her, she was more likely to take his word over that of the one who tried to blow up her city. She changed her mind at the last minute.

"He told me you grew up together, both with a mind to be king. You were close when you were kids. You cared about each other…it seemed. He still wants peace between the two of you. I mean, he didn't say as much, but it was pretty obvious. I could tell."

"And you know him so well now, do you?"

She sighed. "No. That's how obvious it was."

"Hear this, mortal," Loki said, standing up again and stepping toward the magic barrier. "Do not pretend you are so familiar with Asgard and its royal family. You know nothing. So do not plague me with your wisdom and attempts at reconciliation. Rather, I suggest you leave this realm—at once."

"I don't think so," Clara said. "You may have wanted to rule over me and my people, but you failed at that, so you don't get to give me orders now. Besides, I have a job to do. I agreed to it."

"Ah, yes," he hissed. "The Allfather's little diplomat, here to make peace between the realms. I doubt this attempt will be any more successful than his last."

"His last?" Clara asked, suddenly worried. Was she more expendable than she thought?

Loki grinned. "He must have kept that particular detail from you."

"What are you talking about?"

He shifted his gaze into the distance again, his smile fading. "Be grateful you have a choice in the matter, Midgardian."

"What was Odin's last attempt?" she asked. "What do you mean, 'choice'? Did he try to force someone to do this job?"

He turned back to her, meeting her eyes this time. She wished he hadn't. The hatred she saw within him was profound, made even worse when combined with the dark sorrow she also noticed.

"Only a monster from…beyond," he said. "The mighty Allfather really should have seen it coming."

Clara still did not understand, and she was no longer sure she wanted to. She turned her face aside, feeling an almost physical sensation of ripping her gaze from him. Taking a deep breath through her nostrils, she peered down the long corridor.

"You'd better be going," Loki said. "He's waiting for you, you know."

She did not need to be told again. She walked away on shaky legs, but after a few steps, she forced them into a run. At the end of the hallway, she nearly crashed into Thor when he stepped into her path.

"Clara!" he gasped, catching her before she stumbled to the hard floor. "What happened?" His eyes were intense as he took in her bloodless face. "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing," she said, too afraid at the moment to discuss what Loki said. "Really, nothing."

"He did something," Thor said. "You are frightened."

Clara glanced around, finally remembering the presence of the guards and feeling embarrassed. "I'm fine," she said. "I'll be fine. I, um, I better go home."

Sure at last that Clara could stand steadily on her own, Thor straightened to his full height and squared his shoulders. His ferocious expression had not changed.

"I will speak to Loki," he said.

"No!" she gasped. "I…I think he needs…some time. He's…He doesn't seem to like me much, and I don't think your speaking to him would help his mood at all. No, I-I really need to go home."

Now Thor looked quizzical. "Back to Midgard?"

A wave of fear overcame her, and she shuddered. Why did Thor seem confused? Would he try to prevent her from going? What was the choice that Loki said she had that someone else hadn't?

"I'll be here again, today, I just need to pick up some of my stuff and, erm, run some errands." She stopped suddenly, wondering what had happened to the person—was it really a monster?—who had taken up the diplomatic position before her. "I mean…if I can…if you want me back."

"Certainly," Thor said. "We all reached a satisfactory agreement—you are free to come and go, and your quarters will be ready for you anytime you wish."

Clara felt herself relax a little when Thor said "free." She reminded herself that she had taken this position willingly, however inept she might be. They had let her go home before. Odin had agreed to her independence. Whatever had happened before, whatever Loki had been referring to, it was not something for her to worry about.

Still, she felt uneasy. "Thanks a lot," she said to Thor. "I have to go home and…" She closed her eyes, remembering what had prompted her to make a final decision at all. "I have to return a phone call. And figure some other stuff out."

An idea came to her mind. As unwelcome and exasperating as it seemed, it might be the best way to go about her new job.

"Think you could do me a favor?"

"What is it?" Thor asked.

"Come back to Midgard with me. I may need…some backup."