Author's Notes: Many thanks to everyone for all the reviews and birthday wishes! Such an incredible response to last chapter, I'm so glad everyone enjoyed it - frustrating as I know it is when our most stubborn heroes interact!

Chapter Ten

Let it never be said that the Allfather lacked capacity for mercy. At least as far as he'd allowed Loki to return to his quarters rather than the healing rooms, where Frigga and Thor would be waiting to pounce. Loki stubbornly turned away from his bedchamber and made instead for his study with its walls of books. Granted, his library had spilled out of the study long ago, and its shelves now formed the walls of his sitting room and half of his bedchamber. If he kept accumulating them at the same rate, he'd run out of wall space in the next fifty years – and as a son of Odin, his quarters were quite expansive.

He stumbled over the floor and muttered a curse, waving a hand at the hearth (the only non-book occupied expanse of study wall), only for the fire to sputter and fail to light. He cursed more loudly and stalked towards it, but tripped again and wound up on his knees, shivering, his arms wrapped around his chest. He should not have been capable of shivering anymore.

By fumbling magically and manually, he got the hearth blazing, and wound up slumped upon the carpet, as close as he could be to the fire without sitting in it. He let his mind drift and woke from a doze to find himself half-baked on one side, so he switched direction, and the return of humor brought him out of the stupor. I'm acting like one of Freyja's cats!

Laughing quietly, he pulled himself upright and hauled a chair closer, but found that he couldn't concentrate on a book and kept staring into the flames as if hypnotized.

Freyja... There was an idea, perhaps a palatable one. The queen of Vanaheim had never been less than welcoming to him on his visits. Then again, she was never less than welcoming to any Aesir in her halls. He wrinkled his nose to consider whether that would change as word spread of his bloodline, but... in absolute candor, he doubted it. At least she had not praised Thor to the skies while absently adding "and his brother" when she spoke of her neighbor realm. Rather, she was sweetly indulgent of Thor's boisterous ways, reminding them both of Frigga when they'd been little, and had been no less indulgent of Loki's curiosity.

On one of their most recent long trips, after a day of hunting and training with Vanir warriors, Thor and the Warriors Three had gone off to take a meal with Hogun's kin. Freyja had informed Loki he was invited to meet with some of the most powerful magi in her service. It had been a novel experience, to see the looks of shock and genuine envy shot at him by some of the Vanir youths, male and female. Sorcery was more widely used by both genders there, which might explain why out of all Thor's cronies, Hogun insulted him the least. (Then again, Hogun talked the least on any subject, so it might not be deemed proof.)

Granted, the Vanir use of magic bent more towards scrying and seeing of future and past than practical application. Their lore masters were the greatest in the Nine Realms, and even restless Thor was enthralled by the great tales recited and sung by the Vanir skalds.

Loki had enjoyed his times there. And yet... to go without Thor? Without magic? Stripped of power and rank and station and all the realms knowing it? He felt blood rush to his face just at the thought of the eyes on him, the mockery and silent scorn even if the Vanir were generally more subtle in their jeers.

How is it that I can blush at all? My face is only a glamor. Maybe it was the same reason he could shiver with cold when his body ought to survive extremes that would kill even an Aesir. He thumped his head back against the cushions of his chair. It seemed Loki the Trickster had all the shortcomings of both his blood race and his adoptive race, and none of the advantages of either.

Alfheim? Had its king not been so embroiled in this recent debacle, Loki would have liked that prospect a great deal. The light elves were the greatest magicians in the known universe, and Loki had never ended one of his visits to Frey's realms without wishing it had been longer. Thor, by contrast, tended to find the place boring. The elves' power and security were unchallenged, and many of their weapons crafts and strategies were still used by the other realms including Asgard, but little had been seen of their capabilities since before Bor's day.

There was much speculation about why the elves would tolerate rule by an outsider, but Loki, like most, was of the firm belief that if they had an objection to Frey, then Frey would not be ruling. The light elves had mediated disputes within and between most other realms, and it was the only place outside of Jotunheim that Loki had ever encountered Jotnar. Not that they had ever had much to say to each other beyond what the barest diplomatic and mutual guest-courtesies required. The elves themselves were aloof and often downright condescending - but that didn't bother Loki as much as it did Thor so long he saw that everyone got the same treatment. (After all, Aesir and Vanir elders were the same.)

But now it seemed Frey was pushing ahead towards normalizing relations between Jotunheim and the other realms. Even amid the turmoil, Loki had seen him in earnest conversation with that Jotunn volva. The thought of encountering her again triggered some combination of nausea and fury.

I owe you nothing, bitch, he wanted to spit, imagining her accusing red eyes on him. Take your righteous principles and your grudging mercy back to the ice caves or wherever the giants practice their facsimile of magic.

He squirmed in his chair, glaring at the fire and wishing to burn away the strange inkling of shame within him, as though it were Frigga he had cursed and denounced.

A knock at the door made him jump nearly out of the chair, and the small seeing mirror he'd put at the door revealed Frigga, as though he'd summoned her with his disquiet. He sighed. It had been a few hours since his audience with Odin had ended; she'd restrained herself quite admirably. He should not wound her with a denial.

So he straightened and unlocked the door with a gesture. "Come in, Mother."

Frigga took in his appearance, her own expression schooled to hide her distress. She was seldom so guarded with him in private. Already she distances herself from me. There's no need to pretend anymore. Well, he'd learned as much about dignity from her as from Odin; he might as well apply it. "The Allfather has informed me of my punish - "

She moved so fast he didn't have time to brace himself. Her arms were around his neck and she was holding him so tight it nearly knocked the wind from him. "I would never have forgiven him if he'd turned you out without letting me see you!" she breathed. "I know you'll return to us."

He embraced her in return automatically. "It's indefinite - "

She pulled back and glared at him, squeezing his shoulders. "It is nothing of the kind. We are your family, Loki Odinson, and we will never stop loving you as ours." Putting a hand to his cheek, she whispered, "Until you and your brother have both come home, I and your father will be bereft."

He let her cling to him. If it would make her feel better, he supposed he owed it to her. She'd stayed even as he withered under the Jotnar poison, when she should have been with the king or his council.

"I don't understand," he admitted.

"Which part?"

"Any of it." She frowned, giving him that skeptical look that said she wasn't sure if he was dissembling or not. He wasn't. He groped around for the words to properly explain it, and finally blurted out, "How could you tolerate it, knowing what I was? Especially now that all the realms know. How can you speak of caring for a frost giant?"

She let go of him and stepped back, stunned, and... crushed? By the Norns, he hadn't meant to wound her, only show how pointless it was to dwell on him. She could clear her conscience and the sense of motherly obligation - and the shame he'd brought down on her and her family. Perhaps in that, he might manage some sort of equilibrium with his upbringing, a diplomatic truce of sorts, and if he ever was permitted to set foot in Asgard again, it would not hurt so much.

But he couldn't even manage to initiate that properly; Frigga was closer to tears than he'd seen her in a long time. "Loki," she breathed. "If I could go back to your infancy and tell you the truth from the beginning, I'd give my life."

Now his throat was so tight he could barely breathe, his eyes stinging. "Why?!" he rasped.

She was so frustrated she started to pace, rubbing her eyes. The angrier Frigga became, the more still and calm she appeared - normally. Now her face was lined with exhaustion, and she was actually trembling. He cursed himself, even though he still wasn't sure how he was managing to hurt her.

"Because your father and I wronged you unforgivably with our silence - listen to me!" She grabbed his hands when he made to look away, and her desperation was so clear that it jolted the skepticism from his head. "I beg you." He stared in disbelief, heart in his throat. "Loki, if you believe no word I've ever said to you before and none after tonight, I beg you with all my heart, hear this, for I swear on my life it's true: your bloodline is no shame to your family or to you, and we wronged you by not saying so every day of your life!"

His mind reeled. He was vaguely aware of wetness on his own face to match hers, but his head was spinning with too much confusion to even muster real embarrassment. How am I to believe that? he thought, feeling dull and sluggish. She truly wanted him to do so; it was all too much, too frantic and desperate to be any new falsehood or excuse. But how am I to accept that without disbelieving all that has ever come before?! Accept that Frigga and Odin were hypocrites? Was that what she meant to confess? Would Odin approve if he knew of this declaration?

And if it really is true... then what am I?

And what are they?

Normally Loki would be drawn to confusing questions and vague, elusive puzzles like a hound to a scent. But this was a frightening, contorted maelstrom, some fractured reshaping of reality, and he wanted to flee from it.

"Where should I go?" he asked her at last. She blinked. "Did he not tell you his decision?"

Frigga shook her head. "He said that it is your choice alone whether to discuss it with any of us. I would like it if you'd tell me," she added. That prodded a little ease back into him, as if perhaps he might find himself physically capable of smiling again. That part was definitely dissembling; she knew quite well what she wanted and was not above wheedling at him.

Perhaps this matter, the practical part of where he should best serve his exile, might be an easier thing to talk about and think about than the rest. He urged her to the comfortable chair and called another for himself, sitting down. She seemed relieved in her own right to be distracted.

"I am to be banished for my treason, but he offers me a choice of where." It was strange to realize that not only had Thor not been given such a choice before, but apparently that would not change now. "If I go to Vanaheim or Alfheim, he expects there will be... diplomacy involved. With the frost giants." He managed to keep revulsion from his voice. "If Midgard, I'd be with Thor." Trailing along at his heels just like always. That thought felt only a little less unpleasant, or perhaps just a different kind of unpleasant.

Frigga leaned against one arm of her chair, gaze drifting from him to the fire and back again as she mulled it over. "You don't think you might enjoy Nidavellir?"

He burst out laughing. He couldn't help it, even though he knew that's why she'd said it. Devious of her; she grinned wickedly. He was not for the axe in Asgard and had no intention of courting it anywhere else. The dwarves would certainly not welcome him even if he was stripped of all power. The last time he'd been there, he'd only escaped the axe by having his mouth sewn shut. The dwarves' use of magic and their great crafts were of objective interest to him, but his meddling with them had quite probably alienated them for the rest of his life. His standing as Odin's son was the only reason the sons of Ivaldi had spared him, and neither they nor their lords would see any reason to do so a second time.

Well, still, Frigga deserved retaliation. So he pulled himself together and gave her a look of no less innocent blandness. "Well, I suppose I do still owe them proper amends for damaging Mjolnir in its making. Perhaps I should begin my reformation by going to beg their pardon." She wrinkled her nose, but also chuckled, and it was a relief to hear it. He sighed and said, "I suppose you are for Midgard."

Abandoning mirth, she asked, "Are you against it only because Thor will be there?"

"Out of my three non-fatal choices, I would say Midgard's also the most dull," he protested.

"You have been there the least," she pointed out. "After this past week, I would rather have both of you somewhere dull."

"Is it so that I'll shepherd Thor or Thor will shepherd me?" he grumbled before he could check himself.

"Both," Frigga replied curtly, refusing to be baited. "I like neither of you sent out into the realms alone, especially in mortal form." She took in his sour expression and sighed. "But even if you both went to Midgard, you know you and Thor need not be joined at the hip. It's not the largest realm, but broad enough for you to explore for some years."

"Thor will want me to stay with him."

"And you have the right to refuse." She lifted her chin at his startled expression. "You both are stripped of rank and authority in exile. Thor cannot command you, and will not impose himself if you wish to separate."

"Since when?"

Her eyes went right through him. "His thinking has changed on many subjects, on you most of all, Loki. And yes, he still loves you. You know it." Frigga shook her head and rose to her feet. Loki echoed her automatically. "Eir anticipates he'll be fully healed by tomorrow. I know I can't tell you what to choose, or what the outcome will be. Try to rest tonight." She kissed his forehead, then left him alone to his thoughts.


Will he ever forgive me? Thor pretended to sleep for as long as it took to get Eir and Sigyn to stop hovering, then stared into the darkness of the healing room, fighting despair. Even after they'd talked - and fought - the ice of Jotunheim seemed to still creep between him and his brother, and if they were not exiled to Midgard together, how long would it be before he saw Loki again?

How long until he could put things right?

I never meant to wrong you. When Loki had finally spoken, it was like a dam broke, and Thor could see these were words he'd wished to say for a long time. A part of him still bridled, wanted to indignantly protest that Loki had hidden all this and was far too practiced at deception for Thor to have seen his heart.

But did I have to see it to know that it was wrong to belittle him? To think that perhaps I should ask his opinion from time to time and actually hear the answer? To not take him for granted?

Thor thought he could be sure never to take Loki's presence for granted again, not after seeing him at the edge of death. But the rest... so much of his interaction with his brother was born of habit, habits so old he could no longer place their origins. He didn't mean it to be unkind - although Loki had often borne the brunt of his moods and his temper in the past. That too he had to resolve to cease.

Perhaps, along with his place in Asgard, the succession, and Mjolnir, he would have to prove himself worthy of being Loki's brother again.

Well, if I must assign each of these tasks a priority, I know which will come first. That thought made him smile, if a little sadly.

Soft footsteps reached his ears, and he quickly closed his eyes again, then recognized the whisper of silk skirts and the faint scent of apple blossoms. Of course, Frigga knew he was not asleep. "I thought you agreed to rest tonight."

"Odd, I thought you did as well," he replied lightly, and opened his eyes. He could see at once she'd been crying. "How is he?" he asked.

"Well enough, I suppose." Frigga sat down beside his bed and gave him a light shove when he would have sat up. With her restraining hand came a stern look. "I cannot tell you what he said, dearest. Regaining your brother's trust will be hard enough without breaking his confidence."

"I understand," Thor sighed. "Will he... may I see him before I depart Asgard again?" Frigga nodded. "Do you know what punishment the Allfather has decreed for him?"

"Yes, but... again, it is not for me to say. I think he'll tell you himself tomorrow."

"It should not be worse than what was imposed on me. My crime was greater."

Frigga patted his hand. "We're all responsible for these sorry days, Thor. Including your father and myself, and your father is aware of that. He's granted Loki some mercy for it, but understand this: it falls to us now to let your brother mark his own path, if that's what he wants. We kept the truth from him, molded him to our purpose, and it served him ill." He saw her catch herself, and cringed as his mind reluctantly filled in what she didn't wish to say: And mocked and bullied him for what choices he did make. "Your father will seek peace with Jotunheim, but Loki is not ready to be part of that."

"I am," Thor vowed. "When he deems me worthy again. I owe nothing less to them - and to him."Her eyes brimmed, but she smiled. He put his hand over hers. "I don't know how much longer I'll be in Midgard, but I know I have much left to learn. I promise I'll try to make you proud."

She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "You already have, my son."


When Eir released him on the morrow, he thanked her gravely, and asked to see Lady Sigyn. "I wished to thank you also, my lady. Not merely for your service as a healer to me, but my brother. I know it was not only duty."

Sigyn smiled. "My prince is gracious." Casting a quick look to ensure they were out of earshot, she told him, "And all Asgard knows it was not duty that drove you to return to Jotunheim."

"Do many understand?" he mused. Or had his people thought Loki no longer worth the risk to save once it was learned he was not Aesir?

"Perhaps not enough," she admitted. "But even those who don't must respect such courage. As do I."

Thor felt a rush of warmth at that. Sigyn had never had much interest in him or his circle of friends - not that their behavior had merited much appreciation, but as swaggering youths, her lack of admiration had miffed them. If he had earned it now, then perhaps there were others whose respect he could recover. "I must bid you farewell and return to Midgard. I don't know when I'll have leave to return, but it eases my mind to know you and Lady Eir have charge of these healing halls."

"Safe journey, my lord," she said, as he kissed her hand. Then she raised an eyebrow. "But perhaps you will not be absent as long as you think." With that cryptic remark and a parting smile, she returned to the healing room.

He encountered Sif and the Warriors Three lying in wait outside the great hall. "So, he delays to say his goodbyes to the fair Sigyn, but not his dearest friends. I'm so wounded!" said Fandral, a hand over his heart.

"Be more wounded, my friend: Sigyn's prettier than you," Volstagg informed him. Thor guffawed, Sif rolled her eyes, Fandral sputtered, and Hogun simply ignored the others. It was almost as if nothing had changed.

"We would accompany you into exile if the Allfather would allow it. You are not the only one who owes atonement for these events," Hogun told Thor.

Thor shook his head. "But you would not have gone if I had not insisted, nor even thought of it." He gripped Hogun's arm with one hand, Sif's shoulder with another. "My mother told me what you did for her in those first hours after the Allfather fell. Believe me, it eases my mind that you will be here in Asgard."

"Is there anything you would have us do while you're gone, Thor?" asked Sif.

He considered it quickly. "Speak in favor of peace to the other warriors. I was wrong to court war with Jotunheim, and we've all been wrong to look on them as monsters. Let it be known I agree with Lord Frey and the Allfather: we must change the way we look at them. Only then will they no longer look at us as the enemy."

The Warriors Three all nodded, but Sif avoided his eyes. "And Loki? You wish us to speak for him."

"I do. I know about the Jotunns at the coronation, as does the Allfather. He will decide what punishment is due, but Loki has already paid dearly for it."

"So have you," Volstagg said quietly.

Thor smiled and gave a mock-careless shrug. "Let the Allfather decide that." He clasped each of their shoulders quickly. "Farewell, my friends."

Until we meet again. He didn't say that. It would not do to take anything for granted, not even in the face of Frigga's belief that one day he'd be permitted to come home.

He couldn't tell by any of their faces whether they shared her hope.

To be continued...

Coming next week: Both sons of Odin come before the king to answer for their actions. Decisions are left to be made, and farewells to be said in the final full chapter!

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