Loki had always been good at planning and forward thinking. It was why he was so good at chess. He could see the moves people were likely to make and then adjust his own strategy to account for those moves before his opponents even realized it was their turn. So when Loki decided that continuing his liaison with Darcy publicly and without undue contempt was to be his endgame, he immediately knew what had to be done. He didn't like it though.

While he personally didn't care how others viewed him, the fact that he was still an untrusted and treacherous man – a villain – was the main obstacle standing between the present he endured and the future he wanted. The only way to have Darcy without meeting with too much opposition was to stop being seen as the enemy.

That meant atonement. That meant sacrifice. That meant punishment.

And though he may not be a bloodson, Loki got his creativity from Odin. His punishment would be unique and horrific. Lovely.

It was time though. Darcy aside, he needed to return to Asgard. To say he had left things unsettled with his parents would be a vast understatement. There were answers he needed to find and the time and distance had offered a new perspective on the Allfather. Hopefully, Odin had also reevaluated the actions of his son. Regardless, they owed each other an explanation. Centuries of love and respect did not just vanish completely, though the passions of the moment can overshadow one's ability to remember them. He needed to look his father in the eye and make him understand why he wanted the worlds to burn. Why he thought he had to be the villain. Why he felt like he was still falling through that endless abyss of time and space.

At least this time his sacrifice would have a tangible reward. Though Darcy Lewis was a strange sort of trophy. She would not appreciate the comparison, but he felt it apt. She was his reward for battling his own impulses. He would never stop being a monster. But she had unexpectedly taught him that if you wanted to stop being viewed as a monster, you had to stop acting like one.

He was Laufeyson. He was also Odinson. Such dissonant identification should not exist in one man, but it did. Now he knew that he could be both. And while he may not ever be able to accept that he was a part of the race that he had been taught since infancy were nothing more than savage animals, Darcy had no problem with his demons. His disgrace. Acceptance of self is easier when you are already accepted by others. Gratitude was not an emotion with which Loki had been familiar, but he felt it toward his lover.

And she was now the catalyst for the progression in the dormancy that had been his life of late. A silly mortal girl. Loki wanted to laugh at life's little ironies. He had mocked Thor for being tamed by a demure woman of science. And here Loki was, sacrificing his pride for a brash woman of nonsense. Some people might buy into the ideology that opposites attract, but Loki knew better. That was not why Thor and Jane were together, nor he and Darcy. Fate was fucking with him. Again.

He appeared in front of his brother's residence and knocked. Thor's woman opened the door with a frown on her lips and suspicion in her eyes. He would need her approval. No, Darcy would need her approval.

"Jane, good morning. Is my brother here?" He kept his voice soft and sincere, willing her to stop hating him.

She nodded, "Yes, come in. Thanks for knocking."

"Of course. I have learned how much Midgardians value their privacy, therefore I shall endeavor to respect yours."

She looked confused, but gestured to the kitchen. Distracted, he felt a heavy hand come down upon his shoulder and grimaced. One would think that Thor would have learned his own strength by now. But no.

"Brother! I am most pleased that you are visiting me again. Shall I-"

He cut his brother off, "Thor, quiet. There is something of import we must speak about." He turned to the woman looking at him with questions in her eyes. "Would you mind terribly if I borrowed your man for a few minutes? This is a family matter." He reevaluated the words in his head and amended, "Not family. We must speak brother to brother. Had it been a family matter, you would be included. You are, after all, a sister of the heart."

The words tasted artificial on his tongue. That was the most he would ever offer Jane Foster in the way of acceptance. Though it was true enough. Thor was brother of his heart, Jane was the wife of Thor's heart – ergo, Jane was his heart's sister. Still, the woman's staunch disapproval of his entire existence was annoying. But he was grateful for Thor's firm stance on accepting Loki back into his life, especially as his behemoth of a brother catered to her whims in every other respect. So for Thor and for Darcy, he would make nice. For the moment. Surely Thor wouldn't begrudge him a little trick or two on the woman sometime down the line.

She looked startled, her eyes widening like a rabbit in a snare, "Oh! Um, yeah. Go right ahead."

He gave her the least threatening smile he could muster – oh the things he did for those he cared about – and took his brother's arm. In a blink, they were standing in the middle of a vast desert.

"Loki, what is the matter?"

The sincerity in Thor's voice reaffirmed Loki's belief that he was doing the right thing. He had to make amends with his family. With all of his family. He did not presently like them, he may not ever forgive them – but he would always love them. His brother's face confirmed that the sentiment was mutual.

"Thor, I am going home."

Confusion etched lines into Thor's forehead. "Home? But you are…"

Loki could see the moment Thor understood. "Asgard? You are going back to Asgard?" His voice rang with disbelief.

Loki nodded, "Yes, brother. I must. Sometimes one must go back to go forward. I cannot move on to the joys of the future without facing the demons of my past. It will be alright."

Thor grabbed his shoulders and hunched so they were eye to eye. "Brother, you cannot. Father will punish you for what you have done."

"Let him."

"No! No. I will not. You saw the error of your ways. You saved me."

Loki shook his head, "We saved each other. I have to go back Thor. I will be punished and forgiven and then I can return."

"Return? To Midgard? You would come back? Why?"

"There is something here that I want. Do not worry, brother. No mischief this time. Well, not much."

Thor opened his mouth to say something, but closed it with a sigh. He gave him a hard look. "I will go with you."

Loki gave him a half-smile, "That will not be necessary. Though it has been a while, I still remember the way."

Thor gave him a surprisingly gentle look, "I would never let my little brother march into battle alone."

While 99% of the time, Loki considered Thor a useless waste of space and resources, this moment fell into that remaining 1%. Reckless, selfish, foolish Thor may be – but disloyalty had never been one of his failings.

Loki clasped Thor's own shoulders, and they stood together in a strange pantomime of a hug. "This is one battle I must face alone."

Without warning, he brought them back to the warm kitchen they had vanished from minutes ago. Jane jumped and Loki had to contain an amused smile.

He released his hold on Thor, "I will see you again, brother. One day."

"Wait!"

At the frantic cry, Loki turned to face his brother.

"Loki…I love you. And I am proud of you, brother. Always."

The words fell awkwardly from Thor's tongue, but Loki still found his heart clenching. If only he had said that to him a year ago…just once…then maybe…

"I love you, too. Farewell, my brother." He disappeared without a sound. He lingered for a moment, invisible, and watched as his most masculine brother clasped Jane to him desperately and took large, shaky breaths into her hair. Loki shook his head at the display of tender emotion he had inadvertently caused. Apparently, a flair for the dramatic ran in the family.

Speaking of dramatic, he had one more scene he had to play. Thor would explain his absence to S.H.I.E.L.D., and he had left a note for Tony next to an electronic chess set that said 'Practice while I am gone and you might actually win a game upon my return. Probably not though.'

That just left Darcy. He tried to tell himself that no matter how she reacted, going back to Asgard was the right decision for reasons that had nothing to do with her. After all, she was just a silly mortal girl.

But she was also more than that. And less. And possibly everything.

Loki braced himself and disappeared.

Darcy was sorting her laundry and contemplating whether she should confront Loki about turning all of her underwear green or just let it go. Don't get her wrong, she liked green – Loki's green eyes were gorgeous – but there were limits. Sometimes a girl just wants to wear orange panties. Is that so wrong?

A shadow in her peripheral vision alerted her to Loki's presence. She turned to him with a scolding on her tongue, but one look at his face made her forget all about her underwear. His body was tense and he was staring vacantly at a picture on her wall. Darcy wasn't sure how she knew, but something bad was about to happen. Chills started creeping up her spine.

She addressed him in a voice that was uncharacteristically soft, "Hey, babe. Long day?"

He didn't react in any way. Darcy felt herself starting to panic, but forced her voice to sound calm.

"Want me to start us a bath? You look tense."

Darcy started to walk toward him, but he met her eyes suddenly and she froze mid-step.

"I am going back to Asgard."

Her stomach bottomed out, like that first moment of freefall on an amusement park ride. But this wasn't amusing. Oh god. Her legs started tingling.

Stumbling back a step, she plopped her butt down on the bed, upending her laundry and sending some of it slinking to the floor. It didn't matter. Asgard?

She tried to say something – anything – but the words wouldn't come.

"Darcy?"

She tried to focus, but this hurt. He was breaking up with her. Can you break up with someone you aren't actually dating? Why did they call it 'breaking up' anyway? Was it because they had been one weird but wonderful whole and he was shattering that into two broken pieces? And she knew this was going to happen one day – he was a god and he was fickle and he was cruel and he was heartless and he was beautiful and he was nothing she wanted and everything she needed and he was leaving and she couldn't breathe.

Suddenly, Loki was on his knees before her. He slid her own knees apart and rested his hands on her thighs. She had a weird déjà vu moment about their first morning after - when he healed her pain. Why was the room spinning?

"Darcy, breathe!"

Oh, that was why. She sucked in some air.

"That is better. Slowly. Sweet girl, you must calm down."

Calm down? How the hell was she supposed to do that?

"Darcy, I need to look into your mind for a moment. Is that alright?"

He sounded so anxious and she felt so numb, she just nodded absently.

She watched the emotions play across his face. It had taken her ages to read him, but she was getting pretty good at it. Not that it would matter now. Because he was…

"Oh, sweet girl. That is not it at all. This is not an end. I assure you, we are not over."

Oh. Wait, what?

"Darcy, I must go back to Asgard. Tonight." Tonight? Ouch. Breathing was becoming difficult again.

"But I will return as soon as I am able."

Her voice was embarrassingly strangled, "Return?"

He gave her a gentle smile, "Return to you, you silly thing."

Oh. That sounded good. But she was still hella confused.

"Explain please?"

"Darcy, there are things that I have done that I wish I could take back. Things I have said. And there are things that I must know. Therefore, I am returning to Asgard and will throw myself upon my father's mercy. When he has forgiven me, and perhaps I him, I will return back here to you. You wanted me to be the better man. This is how such a task is accomplished. And after I return, we can let the others know that we are…together."

Darcy let the words sink in. He was leaving. But he was coming back. Alright, she could handle this maturely. Embarrassment over her total meltdown was started to trickle into her consciousness. Way to play it cool, Darcy. Having a panic attack at the first sign of being dumped really lets a guy know that you're in charge. Loki wasn't an idiot – he could put two and two together and get that she was a bit more invested in their little fling than she'd been admitting.

She let out a slow breath, "I understand. Sorry I freaked out like a crazy lady. I won't boil your bunny or anything, I promise. And you can stop reading my mind now."

His smirk seemed forced, "I do not own a bunny. Though I could turn my brother into one. In that case, boil away."

She tried and failed to give him a smile, "Funny. No, I get it. Actually, I really get it. This is a good thing. You've needed to do this. Get some closure, make amends and all that jazz. But are you sure it's safe?"

Odin didn't sound like one of those guys who you could just hug-it-out with.

"I will be fine. Though I may be there for a while."

Right. She could handle this. Save face, be chill, don't let him see you sweat.

"Define a while."

"Years. Hopefully, it will not take that long. But time is measured differently on Asgard. As you have pointed out to me, we immortals tend to squander it."

Years. She might throw up.

"That's pretty long."

Loki studied her face. His hand reached up to wipe away a tear she hadn't realized had even fallen. Great, she was hyperventilating and crying. No wonder he was running all the way to another realm. He studied the wetness on his finger as if it were magical.

His voice was strangely hesitant, "Darcy, I cannot ask you to wait for me. I do not know how long I will be gone."

Now he was being the crazy one.

"Fuck that! Don't even. I'm waiting. I'll be like one of those people who falls for an inmate and waits for parole, except less letters and conjugal visits." Actually, that was a really apt comparison. Loki was like an ex-con and…huh.

He seemed relieved, "I did not want to assume. I never like to assume anything about Midgardians, especially one as incomprehensible as yourself."

She looked at him as if he were an idiot, "I think my little meltdown is pretty clear proof that I'm not just using you for sex. So, yeah. I'll wait." She paused for a moment before adding, "Dumbass."

He ran a hand through his hair and let out a laugh that didn't sound very happy, "You could have told me that you loved me."

Oh. He'd been reading her mind and…yeah. Well this was awkward. Still, he probably should have picked up on it earlier.

"Loki, I had freaky blue Jötunn sex with you."

His eyes widened, "I do vaguely recall such an encounter. But I am unsure of what that has to do with you loving me."

She rolled her eyes, "Dude, I sucked off your blue penis. Happily. If that's not love, I don't know what is. Besides, I lie to everyone I care about for you. Which, let me tell you, has not been easy. Dodging Tony and ducking Jane and…well, it was hard. But I want...fuck, just you. I want you. I love you. Ok? And apparently I can't stop talking. This is cathartic in a really terrible way. Please stop me before I have to commit ritual suicide to save myself from the mortification. No, seriously, I might-"

His lips silenced hers.

As he slowly stripped her, and took her with more gentleness than he ever had before – Darcy realized he hadn't said he loved her back. Because he obviously didn't. Maybe he couldn't. But he cared. He did, because they were making love for the first time. This wasn't just sex. The part of her that had been waiting for this to happen was glowing. But the rest of her only wished it didn't feel like a goodbye.

Bittersweet. That was the word she was looking for.

He left as soon as Darcy drifted off, with a kiss on her brow. Then he sent himself to the desert – to that one particular spot.

He could have just appeared in Asgard, but he had learned the importance of announcing your arrival beforehand. While the Bifrost was a bit more pretentious, using it was the equivalent of knocking on the front door.

He leaned backwards and shouted to the sky, "Heimdall! I beg for an audience with the Allfather! You know that I mean no harm!"

There was a flash and a familiar pull that he disliked and suddenly he was standing before the Guardian. The last time they had seen one another, he had frozen him. So this was awkward.

His otherworldly baritone spoke, "The God of Mischief has returned to Asgard. The King is on his throne, where he belongs. Go. But know that I will be watching."

Well, that went well. Auspicious start.

He kept his head held high as he slowly walked the long distance to the palace. He did not wear his helmet, but still all citizens stopped and stared as he passed. Whispers broke out among them. Traitor. Bastard. Liar.

He let the words roll off his back. They were more factual than insulting. He was a traitor to any side who was foolish enough to think he was also on it. His parentage made him a bastard at best. And he was the damned God of Lies. He wanted to turn to them all and demand they do better. Call him a monster. Call him a demon. Call him a murderer. Those would sting.

The guards tensed at the sight of him, but cleared the path for him to enter. He paused, thinking back to that moment when he had let go of his brother. He imagined what would have happened had he just held on. He pushed the doors open. There were people scattered about, talking and laughing. His eyes immediately latched on to the sight of his old friends laughing at something Sif was saying. Like Darcy, he had to remind himself to breathe. Suddenly, the hall went silent as one by one they noticed the new arrival.

He watched, bitter, as Fandral drew his sword at the sight of him. Just how far had they come? He shifted his gaze to the throne.

He noticed Odin first, hand clenched tightly around Gungnir. But a sound like a startled bird drew his eyes to his father's side.

Mother.

Frigga looked at Loki as if she had seen a ghost. They had to have known he was alive. Thor had to have kept them abreast of his foray into world domination. Or even Heimdall.

Odin stood, giving him an imperious look, but Loki held his ground.

The stillness was broken when Odin opened his mouth to speak, his voice reaching to the highest rafters, "You have returned at last. Are you here to start another war, or have you-" His voice was cut off as Frigga shoved at her husband's chest.

Her voice was strong, "No."

Then she was running down the stairs toward Loki. Running. Her arms opened wide as soon as she neared him. Instinct made Loki catch her and hold tight as she clung to him. Her face was pressed into his neck and he could feel the wetness of her tears dripping down into his collar. Oh Mother.

He held her tightly, "Hush, Mother. I have returned to seek atonement. Please do not weep."

She only cried harder, mumbling over and over, "My son, my son."

It was as if a spell had been broken as everyone in the throne room began to speak at once. Loki just tried in vain to calm his mother down. He had spent too much of that day with the women he cared about crying in his arms.

"Silence!"

Odin's voice rang throughout the hall and everyone froze. "Leave us."

As the people trickled out, Sif and the Warriors Three lingered by the doorway.

"I said leave us."

At the command of their king, they each turned and left. Hogun sent a nod in Loki's direction as he shut the doors behind him. While that wasn't the warm greeting he had received from his mother, it helped bolster Loki's flagging strength.

Odin's voice was hard, "Frigga, go rest. I must have a talk with my son."

Son. He still called him son.

Frigga pulled back and placed a watery kiss on Loki's cheek. She threw a beseeching glance at her husband and then walked swiftly from the room.

Loki waited for his father's words.

"So you seek atonement."

"Yes."

"Do you feel you deserve it?"

Loki felt himself shrink back down into the little boy he had been – the one who had worshipped the man before him. "No. I do not. But I ask for it nonetheless."

"I am aware of what you have done. You gathered an army. You attacked a defenseless realm. Thor had to leave his duties here to stop you."

True. But Thor was infinitely happier down on Midgard. Granted, that had more to do with Jane Foster than the realm's computers or pancakes. Still.

Odin continued, "And you let the Frost Giants into Asgard. You let Laufey into my very chamber as I slept. Your mother could have been killed."

True. Also true. But not the whole story. Would it always be like this between them? Would Odin never see that there were different perspectives than his own?

"Yes, Father. I did."

Odin's voice softened, "And then you slayed Laufey. And you saved your brother. And you ended the war you started."

Loki stared at him, confusion clear on his face.

Odin let out a long sigh, "What am I to do with you, my son?"

Loki couldn't hold his tongue, "Explain to me why you ever let me believe I was your son. Explain it again."

"You are my son."

Loki swallowed heavily, "Then punish me like a wayward child. And forgive me as a father would forgive his son. And then let me go."

"Let you go? I am not now forcing you to stay. You are free to go wherever you see fit. Just as you always have done."

"No, Father. I will stay until we understand one another. Until you forgive me for my actions. And then I will return to Midgard."

Odin frowned at his words, "You wish to return to Midgard? And Thor refuses to return to Asgard. I do not understand the appeal of that realm."

Loki couldn't stop the smile, "Thor would follow his woman to Muspellheim. And gladly."

"Ah, Jane Foster. He wishes to marry the mortal woman. He will bring her soon."

Loki was curious, "And you will grant her immortality?"

"If she is worthy."

Loki wanted to laugh, "She is. Thor does not deserve her." Loki realized he would have to deal with her disapproving looks for a millennium. Lovely.

"What draws you back to Midgard, my son?"

Loki deflected, "Unfinished business. Now, have you devised a punishment suitable for my crimes?"

Odin gave him a searching look, but let the matter of Loki's Midgardian business drop. "Yes, I have. Leave now, Loki. For if you agree to submit to this, you cannot leave until I give you permission to do so."

"Do you forgive me, Father?"

Odin's voice turned hard again, "No."

"Then do what you must until that answer changes."

Odin nodded gravely. "You are gifted with your words. But each one has come with a price. The God of Lies must learn the value of Truth. Guards!"

Loki watched as if he were out of body while four guards held him down and Odin himself sewed his lips shut with the thread of Odin's own mother. Loki allowed the indignity and the pain. In truth, he reveled in it. This was inventive and cruel – he had to give credit where it was due. Odin was as much a sadistic bastard as he was. Odinson, after all.

As he was marched out to the courtyard and ordered onto a tall pedestal that had not been there when he left (Odin had planned for this eventuality…they truly were alike), he found himself thinking of Darcy Lewis and her strange babble and her warm body and her love for him. She who had seen his worst. And she was waiting. He almost wanted to smile, despite how inappropriate it would be for the occasion.

He wondered if she would laugh or cry at the image he now made. Probably both. They were so well-suited for each other.

"You will remain here from sunup to sundown every day, until I have pardoned you. Do you understand, God of Mischief?" His voice was loud enough to carry out to the shocked crowd that was growing around him. He nodded to his father. Odin began to walk away, but halted at the edge of the path.

Odin did not turn to face him, but Loki could hear his voice carry, "I do love you, my son. Welcome home." He left without a backward glance.

Loki wanted to scream for him to stop, to come back – he wanted to tear Odin's black heart out with his bare hands and make him watch as it stopped beating before his eyes – he wanted to fall to his knees and beg his father to forgive him – he wanted to know why. But he could not move. He would not. He simply watched as his kidnapper, his tormentor, his savior, his father walked away.

Silence was as much a blessing as it was a curse.