Wow, lots of great fan reaction to the last chapter. I was actually unanimously corrected on a certain point, which I thank you lot's insight for. Captain America's SHIELD is not, indeed, made of adamantium, it is made of vibranium. Vibranium is used in making adamantium, which is an alloy whereas I believe vibranium is a naturally occurring metal. Either way, I stand corrected. Murmur requested a link to Loki's breastplate, which can be found at comicbookmovie fansites/SmartMinds/news/?a=20110. Or just google it; he was wearing it during the final fight on the Bifrost. Anyway, on to parental drama! Sory this one took so long, but look how long the chapter is! Enjoy, and leave a review on your way out if you feel so inclined.

Natasha settled down into her usual spot on the community couch with a cup of bitter pomegranate tea and the newest Bourne novel, if only to giggle at the logistic inaccuracies of spy life and sigh at the descriptions of foreign cold places that reminded her of Mother Russia. This bliss lasted for the whole of ten minutes before the alarm system started blaring out an intruder alert and informing her in JARVIS' tones, calm and poised in the face of the disaster (very British), that the intruder was on this floor and heading her way. Natasha was on her feet in an instant, slotting bullets into her nearby handgun, wishing she were in something more practical than yoga pants and Clint's T-shirt, and cursing Tony's supposedly infallible defense system. She swore, if it was that creep Doctor Doom again, she was going to cut a billionaire.

A little of her cocky annoyance melted into cool professionalism as the intruder banged against the remote-locked door with surprising force, and Natasha took a defensive position behind the couch, aiming her sun with twin arms, steady and true. She knew Clint was still dicking around in the lab with Tony, playing dress up with Loki, and suddenly she wished he was at her side. Even Loki for that matter, it was time for the prince to earn his keep. Bruce had taken a personal day and Steve and Thor were out on patrol so it was just her, and she adopted a calm expression as the door was literally blown off its hinges and into a far corner.

A regal figure strode through the door, delicate hands folded underneath draping sleeves, distraught face framed by honey-colored curls streaked with the grey of wisdom. Natasha didn't recognize her, but she immediately identified the dress and stature as Asgardian (as Loki had once put it in his new-found Earth vernacular, "Ain't no short-ass gods around Asgard") and the crew of three poised ladies in waiting, one whose fingertips was still radiating the white light that had been used to "open" the door, denoted royalty. Natasha put the pieces together. Asgardian royalty. Angry mama bear type. And she matched Loki's wistful descriptions of his mother.

"Queen Frigga," Natasha noted, voice cool and cordial despite the gun that was still trained on Frigga's chest. Pease don't make me shoot you, Natasha pled inwardly. Loki would kill me. She was confident it wouldn't stop her from shooting the Queen dead though, nice as she seemed, if she posed the slightest threat to the Avengers. Natasha was still a SHIELD agent.

There were cold tears in Frigga's eyes, ones of betrayal and a burning wrath tempered only by a flawless upbringing of grace and dignity. "How could you?"

"I don't understand the question, but whatever it is, we can discuss it civilly. Just have a seat, please."

Frigga was gravely insulted. "I pardoned your not bowing in my presence because you are not familiar with Asgardian custom, but I will not take orders from a mere mortal. Sigyn?"

The handmaiden named Sigyn, apparently the same one who had blown the reinforced door out with her white-hot magic, lifted a hand casually, and Natasha's gun was immediately ripped from her hands by an unseen force and flew harmlessly into the sorceresses own. Now unarmed, Natasha fell back on her more preferred method of crisis diffusement; negotiation.

She began by standing straight with chin up and arms raised, palms exposed. A stance that was equal parts power and submission, nonthreatening but with a point to prove. She nodded with respect at the Queen, the closest Natasha would ever get to bowing to anyone.

"I'm sorry for my insolence, but the way you arrived made me believe you were a threat. I am still inclined to believe that, because I don't know how you got into Avengers Tower or from Asgard to Earth for that matter."

"The Bifrost has long since been repaired, but is under tight security and can only be used with an executive order. I am an executive order, obviously. Locating and penetrating your Tower was no challenge, especially with Sigyn at my side. She is the most powerful sorceress Asgard has ever known."

The sorceress in question accepted the compliment with stoic professionalism, beautiful in a subdued way that was all strawberry blonde locks and storm grey eyes, and Natasha resisted the urge to smile when she thought of the pointed remark Loki would have to make about that remark.

"Did you think I would not come?" Frigga asked icily, cranking up the threat level in the room a few more notches. "When I found out what you mercenaries had done? Tell me, did you speak on his behalf on that terrible day or did you let them bind and beat him as before? After he claimed you as friend! Loki told me you six were a merciful and warm group and that the God your people worship would never allow that kind of barbarism you conceded to! He trusted you, do you understand? Do you know how hard it is to win Loki's trust?"

The Queen was getting more and more heated and Natasha recognized by the way Sigyn fidgeted that she was a true solider who was ready to defend her leader at all costs and didn't like seeing her upset. The Russian tried to calm Frigga before Sigyn decided she was a threat and took her out.

"Loki?" She asked, genuinely confused. And then it hit her. Of course. Frigga had somehow gotten word of her son's extradition and now rightfully sought an explanation. "Ma'am, your son is safe. I realize how impossible that may seem under the circumstances, but I can explain-"

"Explain away this, Natasha Romanoff," Frigga hissed, producing from the deep folds of her sleeves a small stack of photographs, which she threw with disgust at Nat's feet. "The depraved Chitauri lord Thanos sent them as a parting gift, gloating that they should stop Asgard from ever trifling with him again. Look and mark well, Lady Natasha. See what blood is on your hands!"

Natasha slowly leaned down to pick up the photos, which were obviously Chitauri make, some kind of plasma caught between thin sheaves of plastic, and felt her blood go cold in her veins. The stills were of Loki, or what had once been Loki, in such a state that even Natasha, with all her interrogation and torture experience, felt her stomach turn. There were bruises, burns, and cuts here that would have killed a mortal, and a picture of…What was that? …Oh dear God that was his arm. The bastards.

Natasha felt the photos fall from her fingers numbly, her mind racing. The Chitauri were torturing Loki's shade. Obviously, that was what he had been crafted for. But someone she had rationalized and compartmentalized it, told herself that a shade wasn't a real person, but the torment and hatred in those miserable green eyes was very real. And Frigga thought that her son was still on that ship. Oh, the poor woman.

"We never gave Loki up," Natasha said evenly, swallowing her guilt and disgust. "What you're seeing is a souped-up shade, Loki can explain it better than I can. He's in the lab with Tony safe and sound, just let me-"

Natasha took a trepidatious step for the lab door. Sigyn extended a graceful hand and melted the knob without much effort and Frigga sighed heavily, picking up the photographs and sitting down at the kitchen table. There were tears in her eyes as she produced four or five brief letters in an elegant hand to set next to them.

"He spoke so highly of you," The Queen whispered, her tears falling onto Loki's letters. "You're his favorite, you know. Were his favorite...The beautiful SHIELD agent with the disposition of steel and a heart of gold, that's what he said…"

"He wrote to you," Natasha breathed, her heart breaking a little. And then, with some insistency, "Your son lives."

"Do not lie to me! I can always feel my son, even when he is far in body and heart from me, his magic does not lie! I cannot sense him here, he is gone and away!" Frigga shrieked, tears coursing down her noble face. Then she seemed to compose herself and lifted her head, spine straight as a ramrod. "I am sorry, Natasha Romanoff, but I am not here to argue with you. Before this day is out, you and your team will be escorted to the seat of Asgard to stand trial for war crimes before my husband. May the gods of old look down upon you in mercy, for Odin will not. You may come willingly or my husband's guards shall escort you bodily."

Nat felt every fiber of her being tighten and harden, flesh turning to Kevlar, fingers to nimble implements of pain, legs to weapons of mass destruction. There was an unavoidable fight coming on, the promise of violence heavy in the air, and Natasha had been honed and trained to view defeat as a inconceivable option.

"Our sort don't do down without a Godawful fight, ma'am."

The Queen sighed, disappointed." I had expected as much."

As if on cue, the trio of handmaidens stepped away from the doors to make way for the dozen Asgardian footsoilders who flooded in. Natasha managed to down three and knock two unconscious before she was wrestled to her knees and held there panting and snarling. Someone entered the room with a quick, confident pace, and Natasha was treated to the sight of gleaming boots and then hem of a mighty cape as the stranger stopped in front of her. She looked up with rage in her eyes through a sheaf of russet hair.

Odin glowered down at her, the fire in his one eye reminiscent of Fury on a bad day.

"You will pay for what you have done, Natasha Romanoff."

In the lab, Tony was already on damage control, dialing his cell furiously.

"I'll tell Fury to get a diffusement team down here ASAP. Just chill here Loki; you're the catalyst in this chemical equation, I wouldn't want-"

Loki snatched the phone from Tony's fingers and snapped it shut.

"No, Anthony. This is my fight, I can handle it like an adult. Calling the Director in would be as god as declaring interdimensional war."

"What do you think Daddy dearest has on his mind? Don't be stupid about this."

"I can handle my own adoptive family," Loki glowered. "Something you wouldn't know much about, come to think of it."

Tony laughed, but it was curt and bitter, without humor. "Loki, you have the corner on the Daddy issues market! I own stock, but you run the place!"

"Both of you shut up," Clint snapped, but without venom. "Tony, Loki's right. He's a seasoned negotiator, and if worse comes to worse Odin will be too focused on yelling at him to declare war on Midigard."

Tony had his mouth open to argue why that was a spectacularly awful idea, then noticed that Loki was already punching his keycode into the far door.

"Hey!" The man of iron protested as the trickster slipped out. "We didn't even talk about the helmet yet!"

Loki poked his head back in the door momentarily. "Anthony, you are admittedly something close to my friend, but know I do not lie when I say I will have a sudden change of morals and heart and promptly attack this fine city if you so much as touch my helmet."

And with that admittedly chilling threat, he was through the door and sprinting up the stairs to the living room. Pathetic as it was, he wanted nothing more than to run and hide from Odin's wrath, but Natasha was up there trying to talk his father down, and he knew from experience that that tactic simply did not work. So he swallowed back his shame and panic and stepped casually through the door as though he lived there, which strangely enough, he did.

The scene was tense and comically frozen in time at the sight of him. Frigga was seated at the kitchen table, flanked by her handmaidens and wiping delicate tears off her cheeks. Odin was standing over a scowling Natasha and the room was swarming with fully armed Asgardian guard, armor glinting in the setting sunlight streaming in through the large windows. Every single one was rendered speechless by his appearance.

"Father," Loki noted, with more ice in his voice than he had needed to use in a long time. Living dependent on the favor of the others and within the comfortable companionship of the Avengers had thawed some of the prouder parts of him, but now he felt the tip of his tongue go cold, the feeling spreading down the back of the throat. He was calm, cunning, and in control. Loki Laufeyson, bane of the nine realms, once again.

The rational part of his mind compartmentalized and asseed the situation while repressing the part that was screaming things like Mother's crying, the shock must have killed her, oh gods Natasha is in danger and I allowed it to happen, and Father is angry. Very, very angry. Should leave, can't do this, hate him so much, why doesn't he love me? Instead Loki replaced these babblings with what was pertinent, the fact that Odin and Frigga have received word of my shade's capture, probably by Thanos hoping to secure some sort of national security through fear tactics. Now they arrive seeking retribution for Fury's breach of trust. A quandary easily solved by my miraculous appearance.

Loki raised his hands smoothly in a surrendering gesture, speaking as though commenting on the weather.

"Thanos did not lie in his rather tasteless gesture of gloating over my defeat. He has in his possession a creature which appears to be me but is rather a shade held together on the physical plane by Midgardian technology and my magic. It was the only course of action open to us; The Chitauri were threatening Earth with nuclear war if the Avengers did not give me up. I remain, however, uncompromised and perfectly safe here. Please release Miss Romanoff, she is a friend."

As Loki spoke, Odin slowly advanced on his, face a blank expanse of disbelief. Loki did not allow his to deter him and nodded in thanks as Odin numbly gestured to his captain of the guard to release Nat. She was on her feet in an instant, ready to come to Loki's aid if he so required her talents, but he god of mischief looked to her and shook his head subtly. Then he turned again to face his once-Father, arching a smooth eyebrow.

"Do you find my explanation sufficient, Allfather?"

Odin's response was to slam Loki into the nearest wall and hold him there by the collar of his shirt, hissing vehemently.

"You let us believe you were captured. You mother was in hysterics, Loki, the entire city went into mourning!"

Loki snarled like an animal and thrashed a bit, the all too familiar rage spreading through his veins like a resilient infection.

"I had no way of knowing you would hear of this incident! Do not lie to me, I am no child, and I am not beloved by the people! Release me!"

Odin grudgingly released his wayward son, but stayed close, looming over him like the specter of fatherly discipline.

"You are our prince, Loki, don't play the martyr! Your actions have been selfish and destructive, but do you think that warrants us loving you any less? You insult me, boy."

"Do not mock me with false affections!" Loki cried, throwing all attempts to remain calm out the window. "You came with a purpose and saw your course through, now leave me in peace! I have been blessedly free of your influence in my life for months, I can't have you patronizing me now, do you understand? I simply cannot-"

In his adolescent anger, Loki hadn't noticed Frigga rise and walk swiftly across the room to him, and now she slapped him briskly across the face. This stopped the stream of icy, poisonous words upon impact, and Loki stared at her openmouthed, green eyes shining in shock. He could accuse his parents of being many things, but outright abusive was never one of them. Even Odin, in his moments of passionate displeasure, had never raised a hand against his youngest son, and Frigga rarely did so much as raise her voice. Now new tears sparked in her hard eyes.

"We thought you dead, do you understand? After everything we all went through, we were tormented by the thought of you dying miserable and alone on the damned ship, so don't fight Loki, for once in your life do not talk back to your father. Just let us love you, wretched beautiful boy that you are."

With that, Frigga threw her arms around Loki's neck and hugged him as though her words had pulled him back from the brink of the abyss, sobbing into his shoulder. Loki's hands came up shakily to rest on his mother's back, an instinct no amount of self-discipline could deny, and then he gave into the moment fully, embracing her fiercely.

"I'm sorry," He choked quietly. "I'm so sorry."

It had no specification, but Frigga knew what her son meant. I'm sorry for everything I did to grieve you. Loki did not make emotional professions easily and this was likely all his parents were ever going to get out of him in way of repentance, but it was more than enough.

She pulled away from the god of mischief, golden eyes searching his face, hard to read, as always.

"Loki, I could not feel your presence…"

Frigga, who had like any good daughter of an Aesir noble, undertaken basic magical training. She could heal a cut and call a withering plant back to life, but not much else. Except the uncanny kinship her magic had with Loki's own, a supernatural maternal bond that allowed her to perpetually sense his location and overall disposition. Loki immediately figured it out.

"I've been in the lab all day," He said with a weak smile. "Stark is paranoid; the basement is encased in concrete and lead and impenetrable to any force, psychic or otherwise."

Frigga laughed, touching her son's face as if seeing him for the first time. "Yes, the technological magician you spoke of…You used magic on a shade? Surely you did not cast the Spell of Flesh?"

"Alas mother, I did," Loki said a bit miserably, looking down at his feet. Frigga was appalled.

"You would anger the spirits and give an innocent shade life just to condemn him to such tormet?"

Odin spoke, calmly and without judgement. "Hush Frigga. You would not have done so lightly, and not without good reason. You know that."

Loki looked up at his father in surprise, and his eyes said what his tounge could not yet manage. Thank you.

At the precise moment, Steve and Thor trampled through the front door, chortling with laughter at some unknown joke. They immediately froze when they saw the Asgardian mess that was the living room, Steve with panic scrawled across his face as the various scenarios in which this could all go terribly wrong flashing behind his eyes, Thor with pure, enthused joy.

"Father!" He roared. "Mother!"

The blonde prince galloped to them, stopping only to pump the hand or thump the back of a soldier who happened to be an old school chum, then hugged both his parents at once, eliciting good natured if reluctant laughter from the both of them.

The god drew back with a wide smile. "You did not tell me you were planning a visit. Verily, I would have prepared a magnificent spread of a feast for you had I known! Oh, it is a blessing straight from Freja to see you both in such good health. What brings you to Midigard?"

Frigga smiled delicately, trying to find words, and Loki sighed, shuffling his feet. Odin supplied the answer, predictably. "The Chitauri sent us pictures of them torturing your brother. We were rightfully disturbed and came here seeking retribution."

"Oh," Thor said, a little confused. Then, as the whole situation dawned on him. "Oh! That mess with the nuclear bombs and the death threats…I was going to tell the both of you, doubt not this, I just became a bit distracted, uh…"

"Saving the world," Loki said, the slightest trace of sarcasm in his voice. "Rescuing small furry animals from trees and making fair maidens swoon with his grace and vigor."

There was a pause, then Odin roared out a laugh and squeezed his son's shoulder, with love but inflicting some pain, as was his way.

"It is truly wonderful to see you haven't changed." Odin kissed his son's head, smoothing back the dark hair as he used to do when Loki was a much younger boy, then spoke a little softer. "You, as these Midgardians say, went off the deep end, but I believe I was the one who pushed you. Your actions against the humans were inexcusable, but so was my banishing you to Jotunhiem. Not a day has passed that I do not deeply regret that decision, made in the heat of betrayal and disappointment…Perhaps we can tentatively try to being anew."

Loki had no words, but he was saved from answering as Frigga tapped his newly reinforced breastplate with a sculpted fingernail, appraising his new outfit.

"What a smart suit! What is it for?"

"Loki is an Avenger now," Thor supplied exuberantly. Frigga's chin nearly hit the flor.

"What?"

"Well done!" Odin exclaimed approvingly, thumping Loki on the back a few times. "It is only proper for a son of Odin, is it not my dear?"

Loki was about to icily correct Odin on the "son" point but was cut off by his mother's worrying.

"It is not, he'll be killed! Look at him! You're too thin darling, haven't you been eating? And your time in prison must have been so traumatizing…

"Mother please…" Loki groaned, mentally chastising himself for not using her first name. Damn happy circumstances had him falling back on old habits."

"No, none of that, you're far too young."

"Thor's only two and a half years older than me!" Loki whined, sounding much younger than he was hoping for.

"Have you been in a battle yet?" Odin said hopefully.

"No," Thor said, speaking for his brother. "But he did save Miss Romanoff's life."

"Oh how marvelous, let's hear about that."

Steve, had been standing stunned while the royal family acted weirdly and unexpectedly like an actual family, now whispered sidelong to a relatively nonthreatening Asgardian solider,

"Is this…Normal?"

"Oh, quite," The guard scoffed. "Thor will kill a frost giant on neutral territory or Loki will steal from an Alfhiem lord and there's all manner of shouting and bickering, but then they all end up crying and hugging. It's awful really, been like this for years."

Steve nodded slowly as Tony suddenly appeared from the lab door, hands above his head.

"Don't shoot! I'm a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, we're very rare!"

"Oh look," Frigga cooed, stopping her embarrassing query of whether Loki had met anyone yet and why didn't he get a nice Midgardian girl like Thor? "Anthony, I believe? The man of iron."

Tony looked confused, then dropped his hands casually in an attempts to be cool.

"Yeah, that's me. Pleasure to meet you Ma'a-ack!"

The "ack" came from Figga embracing him warmly, not being touched unless he was expecting it falling under the list of strange things that bothered Tony immensely, right next to being handed things. The Queen kissed both his cheeks in a light, cordial way, beaming at him.

"Loki's told me all about you. The "narcissistic caffeine junkie". I think he's jealous of your technological prowess, myself."

Tony grinned, patting the Queen gently on the back. "Alright, I like her."

A moment later Clint appeared out of the lab and gravitate naturally to Natasha, where he was prompt found by Frigga, who informed than that when they had children (when, not if) that it was only right Loki should be the godparent. Odin struck up a conversation with Steve and they got along so well that everyone, Loki included was quite surprised and a bit confused. The soldiers and handmaidens started mulling about too, commenting on the Tower and Midgardian weather, and soon Tony was at the bar pouring drinks and DJing through the fantastic speaker system.

Bruce was incredibly surprised when he returned home after a restful day alone to find the living swarming with Midgardians who were eating hors' doeuvres and chatting happily with the rest of him team. He was immediately hugged with much enthusiasm by the King of Asgard, who insisted he was the best thing to happen to Loki and insisted he have a drink and stay for the cocktail party. Bruce accepted graciously, then mentally added "surprise cocktail parties for Norse gods" to the list of things Tony wasn't allowed to do without running it by Bruce first.

It was a few hours later when Odin and Frigga had sufficiently caught up with their boys, mended a few decades of family strife, and helped Tony empty the fridge, that they decided it was time to go. There was many a tearful goodbye (Frigga and Thor) and annoyed looking at watches (Loki). But truth he told it had been, and Loki shuddered at this thought, nice to see his family again and so much better than nice to feel, oh it was disgusting, loved.

Loki said a polite goodbye to all the Asgardians (once a prince always a prince), then had an awkward exchange by the door with Sigyn, the beautiful sorceress who had destroyed Stark security without barely lifting a finger. Tony seemed to remember some mention of an ex-girlfriend Loki had met in the libraries of Alfheim, and the way Loki murmured to her insistently, then caught her hand as it went flying to slap him for the second time that night, confirmed the connection. The two spoke a moment more, both trying to outsnark and out eye-roll the other, then kissed briefly before Sigyn icily excused herself and followed Frigga out.

Loki returned to lean against the bar with a groan, rubbing his eyes as though he had been awake for millennia.

"She's cute," Tony offered.

"We're estranged," Loki put, as though that explained everything, and it some way it did. He was exaughted from dealing with literally every person in his life who had ever had a tie to him, which when you were an ex-supervillian who avoided high emotion when possible, was a miserable business. Then, with Nat and Clint both excusing themselves and Thor chatting with Steve and Bruce on the couches, he said,

"Tony, I do not ask this of you often, but tonight I need you to take me out and get me spectacularly and stupidly drunk."

"Any other time, honey," Tony drawled with enough sarcasm to kill something. Then, a little brightly. "We've got bigger fish to fry. My trial date's in a week, remember?"

"What? I never agreed to be your lawyer!"

"Uh, it sorta comes under the "you owe me one" umbrella of making you an Avenger."

"As I recall, I did not request that "favor" either."

Tony shrugged, grabbing his coat and pulling Loki towards the door.

"Well I did anyway. Aren't I just the nicest fella?"

"Fine. To the library then, to study your Midgarian law?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Please. In this world, presentation is everything. We're going to Hugo Boss."

You know what I've been writing? Bible fanfiction. Yeah, that's right. Angsty/comedic angel bible fanfiction narrated by a bitchy Satan. Whatchu gonna do? I'm drunk on the power of your reviews. It happens.

Anyway, back to Doesticity, let's dress up Loki some more! Next up; the boys go shopping and Tony tries to teach Loki how to be a proper Midgardian lawyer, and along the way they meet *sinister crash of lightning* Loki fangirls. No worries, this isn't going to turn into crack or self insert, but I think after dragging you through everything from PTSD to generbending to pool parties, you would know to trust me by now. Adios! *disappears in the swirld of a cape and a puff of smoke*