A/N: Woohoo! Hello, everyone! I'm back to working on this story with a little more gusto, and I can't tell you how pleased I am. I hope you're still sticking with me throughout the pauses and hiatuses, because I still have a plot and I'm excited to get through it.

With that in mind, though, I really hope you like this chapter, because you're still probably going to have to wait a while for the next one. Even though I've got my writing enthusiasm back, and I'm trying to get back into the habit of writing 1-2 chapters ahead, the next chapter is complete crap. I basically vomited a bunch of ideas onto a Word document for the sake of writing something and getting my creativity flowing. Now I have to go back and decide what to keep, what to throw out, what to change, etc. Not to mention that I have been so long away from this story (and holy crap, I started it a year ago?) that I need to go back to earlier chapters and make sure I'm not leaving too many loose ends or writing myself into a gaping plot hole. And all that…may take me a while.

So there you have it, a look into my brilliant and not unorganized at all writing process.

After reaching the stables and choosing their steeds, Thor led the way to the open country. When the vineyards came in sight, Clara smiled, recognizing and appreciating the gesture. As they rode between the rows of vines—now weighed down even further with ripening fruit—few words were spoken. Though he wanted clear, unconfined air, it was obvious that Thor's mind was anything but.

She certainly did not blame him for being preoccupied. Political tension was undesirable at any time, but the fact that it came so soon after the battle in Manhattan made Clara feel even more sorry for him. On top of everything else, Thor's concern for his brother hung constantly over his head. When she thought about it, Clara felt guilty about the smallest distraction she created, and wondered if her presence was anything but an unnecessary inconvenience anymore.

"How about we give the horses a rest?" she finally offered. "I'd like to take in the view."

Thor offered a grunt of assent before dismounting. He led Bothvar to a slope of grass that overlooked the vineyards and the mountains beyond. Clara swung down out of Vigdis' saddle and watched the horse trot over to where Bothvar began grazing. When she was satisfied that they would not run away, she moved to stand next to Thor.

Closer to him, she could see his sweet blue eyes were darkened and shadowed from the inside, as though his whole head were full of fog. He was not looking at her when she reached for his hand. At her touch, she had his attention—or a part of it. He gave her a vague smile and gently squeezed the small hand with his own, but he looked away then. His gaze was concentrated on the mountains, though he did not seem to see them.

Clara let him be, but did not release her hold just yet. She tilted her head back to savor the warmth of the Asgardian sun on her face. Just as she began to think she might still enjoy herself, she heard several more sets of hoofbeats. Bothvar and Vigdis raised their heads, their ears twitching toward the new noises, as Clara and Thor turned to look behind them. Sif and Fandral were coming, their horses at a full gallop.

Damn Heimdall's all-seeing eyes, Clara thought as the warriors approached. She dropped Thor's hand, and he did not seem to notice.

"What is it, my friends?" Thor asked when the horses stopped before him. Clara could have wept and strangled either Sif or Fandral when she heard the weariness in Thor's voice. Was he never to have a moment's peace?

"The king calls for your presence and your council," Fandral said. "There is to be a feast tonight in honor of Queen Alflyse." The warrior nodded a greeting to Clara, but without his customary grin. It was enough to inform her of the seriousness of the whole affair.

"And Queen Frigga urgently requests your advice on a matter concerning the prisoner Loki," Sif said.

"We know not which demand comes first," Fandral added sardonically.

"Neither of them can wait?" Clara asked.

Although Sif always had been friendly—or at least courteous—to Clara, she delivered a sharp look toward her now. Clearly she thought the Midgardian spoke out of turn. If Clara's bluntness bothered Thor, he said nothing of it. He only sighed.

"Thank you for the messages," he said. "Would you care to travel back with us?"

The four of them set off toward the palace, falling into pairs. Sif took the liberty of drawing her horse up beside Bothvar to speak to Thor. Clara could not hear much, but it seemed to concern Svartalfheim. Despite Thor's insistence that he and Sif were nothing more than childhood friends, Loki's insidious suggestions had done their work. Clara watched the back of Sif's dark head with a contempt she hoped the warrior maiden could feel.

"And what think you of the Dark Queen?" Fandral asked as he rode beside Clara.

"I'm trying not to think of her at all," she answered, still staring daggers at Sif.

He chuckled. "You can hardly avoid her. Unless you believe that Queen Frigga would refuse you an invitation to supper, given your treatment of the Jotun bastard?"

Wide-eyed, Clara turned to look directly at Fandral. "You heard about that?"

"I confess, I did hear it spoken of," he said. At the horror on Clara's face, he said, "Oh, my dear, do not fret. From what the guard told me, what you said to Loki was hardly anything at all. The queen can be very defensive about him, even now, but she is sensible. She will not be annoyed for long, if at all."

"Thanks," Clara said dryly.

She did not dare speak aloud her concerns that her behavior toward Loki would prompt the queen to deem her unfit for the crown prince. In fact, Clara did not say anything else for the rest of the ride. Whether he had nothing to say—a highly improbable situation—or he was choosing to demonstrate unusual sensitivity, Fandral followed suit.

At the palace entrance, they left the horses with servants. Thor strode purposefully into the palace and Sif stayed beside him, apparently thinking herself useful. Fandral followed as they turned down the main hallway. Clara hung back, not sure whether to follow, or what she could contribute if she did. Would they resent her tagging along? Should she go to her room, like a good little girl?

When she remembered her original purpose for being there, she sighed. Yes, she should go to her room—but to do her job. Her computer was waiting. Even if she left out the details of the current political tensions, she had enough information now to type up at least one blog entry about the Svartálfar, and post it when she had Earth-based wifi again. How S.H.I.E.L.D. would react when they found out about the existence of the Dark Elves, she had no idea. It seemed impossible that she hide this from them.

To make sure that the unpleasantness of last night and this morning was not repeated, she spoke to the first servant she passed and asked him to send Herdis to the Lady Clara's chamber. She tried to suppress a grin. It had been a long time since she had an opportunity to pull rank—and she could get used to it again.

Herdis did not come to her for almost an hour. Assuming that she was tending to Queen Alflyse or one of the other Svartálfar, Clara used the time to draft a blog post and scribble some thoughts into her journal about what to tell S.H.I.E.L.D.

Nothing about Svartalfheim, she decided. Not yet.

How could she possibly answer questions about this new realm, when she could barely give them sufficient information about Asgard? But without mentioning them, what else could she be expected to talk about, even just for her regular readers? She usually kept her website focused on photography and her travels. It was not personal enough to discuss her feelings toward Thor, her experiences with Loki, or her date with Steve.

Clara groaned, remembering the Post and wondering if Safia still hated her. Maybe she should write about her dinner with Steve, and point out the inaccuracies in the article. Her comments section was probably a disaster area by now.

With all the turmoil going on in her heart about Thor, she had given little space in her mind to Fury, Romanoff, and the rest. Now that she was thinking about S.H.I.E.L.D. again, it was almost enough to make her panic.

Fortunately, Herdis interrupted the worst of it. The maid was excessively apologetic for her neglect, making Clara feel guilty about being so peevish that morning.

"There will be a banquet tonight, my lady," Herdis confirmed. "It will be attended by the court of Asgard, and the highest ranks of Queen Alflyse's retinue. Allow me to help you prepare?"

Herdis more than made up for failing to bring Clara breakfast. Clara did not have a dress of her own that seemed suitable, but the maid—out of thin air, it seemed—found her another gown in a pretty jade color and a fabric too soft to be believed. She even found a bracelet and hair ornaments. After what had happened to Kadlin, Clara was hesitant to wear them, but finally gave in. The jewelry was too gorgeous to pass up, and surely Herdis would not have stolen it.

Not until she was walking down the hall, skirts flapping around her legs, did Clara realize that she could have turned the ring to go back to New York, raided her apartment for another dress, and returned for the banquet. But though she had in her possession a magic transport through space, it did not alter time. She probably would have run out of that.

I wonder if Odin's magicians could use the Tesseract to build me a Tardis, she wondered, smiling to herself.

Tension was palpable as she neared the banqueting hall. Far from the lively music and chatter of her first feast in Asgard—which had the benefit of taking place in the warm, open air—tonight's affair drifted in hushed murmurs on somber notes played by grim-faced musicians. While the first event was essentially a festival, this seemed more like a wake.

In fact, Clara wondered if the Asgardians actually were mourning something. She felt a plunging sensation in her gut. Had Odin capitulated? Was this Queen Alflyse to take possession of the Tesseract and bring it back to her Dark Elves? Why should that matter—and why should the idea fill Clara with dread?

Her heart beat a little faster as she stood in one of the doorways to the banquet hall, feeling awkward when she peered inside and saw no one familiar. A few Svartálfar stood in a cluster, dressed in their finest and speaking furtively amongst themselves. The Asgardians there—two boastful male warriors and a shy-looking woman—were strangers to Clara.

As she hesitated, she heard metallic footfalls behind her. Turning, her stomach gave another lurch.

Loki was coming toward her, two guards close behind him. Clara saw, with ever-increasing horror, that he wore no chains. His face was blank again, but when he stepped up to her, she saw a glint in his eyes.

"I assume that the spectaclehas not yet begun," he said. "Or did you prefer to observe it all from here?"

"What are you doing here?" Clara asked, unable to speak above a whisper.

He broke his icy facade, allowing his lips to drift into a smirk. "I might ask you the same, little Midgardian."

"Clara."

One of his eyebrows twitched. "I beg your pardon?"

"My name is Clara," she said. "You know it, and if we have to share a table again, I'd appreciate it if you used it. Not 'little Midgardian,' not 'mortal,' but Clara—my name."

She scowled, but he held her gaze evenly. He dropped the smile, but the twinkle in his eyes remained. "As you like…Clara."

She tried to hold back a shiver at the chill his voice cast over her. She was regretting her demand; her own name sounded indecent on his tongue.

"Loki!"

Clara turned eagerly to the sound of Thor's voice, however intimidating his tone. The crown prince walked urgently toward them, Frigga following him at a distance.

"Why are you up here?" he asked. Without waiting for Loki to speak, he turned to the guards. "You were not to escort him yet."

"Simple miscommunication, surely," Loki said.

Ignoring him, Thor pointed an accusing finger at the soldiers. "You shall face discipline for your error." He looked away from them, but Clara saw their faces, and the exchange of confused, fearful looks.

"Are you all right?" Thor asked Clara.

She gave him a smile that was bordering on a simper. "Of course—why wouldn't I be?"

Thor nodded. With another angry glare at the guards and a squint at Loki, he offered Clara his arm. She looked around to see if Frigga showed any signs of objection. It did not seem kosher that a Midgardian enter the room before the queen. But she had already gone into the banquet hall.

Thor led Clara to a chair at the lengthy table, then stood to her left. Clara did not sit down, but remained behind her chair, following Thor's example. Recognizing her place beside him, her throat went dry. He did nothing to conceal the fact that something was going on between them. It was a relief, of course, as well as nerve-wracking. She had not missed Queen Alflyse's disdainful attitude toward the presence of a Midgardian in the palace of Asgard. And, of course, there was Loki. He sneered at Thor's romantic interest, of course, and doubtless his attitude could be found amongst others in the realm.

The musicians were ordered to pause. When the music ceased, so did every conversation in the room. Queen Alflyse entered, surrounded by several ladies-in-waiting and Svartálfar warriors. Frigga greeted her and showed her to a place at the table near the head, across from Thor. The other Dark Elves lined up behind other chairs, their ranks becoming more clearly defined. No one was seated until Odin entered and took his place at the head. Clara noticed that Loki was placed further down, next to one of the more brutal-looking Asgardian soldiers.

"Asgard's reputation for hospitality is well deserved," Alflyse said when they were well into the meal. She smiled at Frigga. "I have never been so well attended as by your servants. I am quite tempted to bring a few of them home with me."

"The lives of our attendants are their own," Frigga said. "I'm afraid we cannot offer them as gifts."

"Ah," the Dark Queen said. "Then I suppose Asgardian hospitality is not quite what it is said to be," she added wryly. There was a tense silence among those seated closest to her—Thor and Clara included—as she looked up and down the table.

"Then again," Alflyse continued, "it may be too generous. From my vantage point, I see not only the human of Midgard, but a dangerous prisoner as well, and at a state banquet, no less. You do break bread with some strange beings, Allfather."

"The Lady Clara is a member of court as ambassador to Midgard," Odin replied. "And it is at the request of both the crown prince and the queen that we have brought Loki to this table."

"Oh?" Alflyse's eyebrows rose dramatically. "An ambassador to Midgard. This is a new development. I have never heard of such a thing. Are we to expect such a courtesy extended to Svartalfheim?"

Odin frowned, but she only grinned, her tone coquettish.

"No matter. I am pleased to hear that the great Odin heeds counsel, at least sometimes. This gives me hope, and quite piques my curiosity. Might I be hasty or even impertinent and ask whether you have thought on your…opinion, shall we say…about the fate of the Tesseract? Perhaps I am silly to ask—after all, I was not summoned for any official discussion…"

Odin cleared his throat. "I think that is best left for after dinner, Your Ladyship. Let us not complicate anyone's enjoyment of the meal."

The Elf-Queen's expression froze for a moment. "It sounds as though you expect me to be displeased by what you have to say."

"Again, we must wait until later."

"If you have something to say, why delay it?"

Odin sighed. "I have consulted with my own sages and sorcerers, as well as my son, my future successor."

He glanced toward Thor, who had stopped eating long ago to listen to Odin and Alflyse's exchange. Clara, too, had paused in the meal, losing her appetite to nerves at Alflyse's increasingly hostile tone.

"With respect, Queen Alflyse, we can find no just cause for releasing the Tesseract into the custody of Svartalfheim. For the sake of the Nine Realms, it must remain a treasure of Asgard."

The Elf-Queen's expression shifted, and Clara wondered if she was about to burst into tears. Then she smiled sadly, speaking in a soft, pitiable voice.

"Allfather, surely you are wise and your motives true. But would you begrudge me and my people the chance to do our part to maintain peace and prosperity in the universe?"

"Not at all," Odin said. "But I am afraid the Tesseract cannot be part of whatever opportunities meet you."

Again her expression changed, her eyes glinting with barely concealed rage. "This is your answer—reached well out of my presence, when I was the one to bring the matter to your attention at all? While I was entertained by the queen with tea and vapid chatter, and my attendants shown Asgard's gardens and served palace sweets, you were consulting with your people, your advisors, behind my back. And this is Asgard's hospitality?"

"We may discuss it further, after dinner," Odin said, maddeningly calm even as Frigga flushed with embarrassment. "But at the moment, I do not see that—"

"Clearly there is nothing left to discuss," Alflyse interrupted, practically gnashing her teeth. "You have done it all already, as I remained ignorant!"

"So be it." There was a great scraping sound as Odin pushed back his massive chair from the table and stood. The other Asgardians scrambled to follow suit in a show of respect. A few of the Svartálfar halfheartedly did the same, as did Clara, but Alflyse remained in her seat, glaring up at Odin.

"If you remain so dissatisfied," Odin continued, "we will conclude the discourse immediately. Thor…warriors…come with me. Queen Alflyse, you shall, of course, bring whatever attendants and representatives you desire to accompany you. The rest of you…please continue to enjoy your supper."

Thor, still standing, turned to meet Clara's gaze. "I will return the moment I can," he said softly.

"What should I do?" Clara asked fretfully. This was worse than the most awkward holiday dinner.

"Stay and finish your meal, if you like. Fret not—you will be safe, and I will find you." He smiled—she assumed he was trying to be reassuring—and gently, briefly touched her cheek before he left.

Clara watched him go, but caught a look of hatred from the eyes of the Dark Queen before the company left the banquet hall. Following Queen Frigga, Clara took her seat again, only to realize who was left. Beside herself and the queen, there was one Asgardian lady, one man…and Loki.

There were guards at the door, but somehow that did not make her feel much better. Neither did the heavy silence that no one seemed willing to break. Not a single breath stirred or voice murmured. The only sounds came from chewing and the clink of cutlery.

What the hell just happened? Clara asked herself. No matter how she looked at it, it was not good. Alflyse seemed to hate Clara personally, and she was certainly more hostile than she first appeared in the throne room. Odin would not, it seemed, give her the Tesseract, and well done there. But how desperate was the Elf-Queen? What were the Svartálfar willing to do to obtain the powerful relic?

Clara wished she had found a way to slip out with Thor and follow them to the meeting. She finished the meal quickly and begged Queen Frigga's pardon from the table. The queen nodded, even offering a small smile. Perhaps Fandral was right in saying that she would not be annoyed with Clara for long. Clara was prepared to say she had a headache if Frigga wondered why her guest left the meal early, but she asked no questions. Clara was glad; she hated to lie to her again.

Out of the room, alone in the hallway, she listened for any sounds that might tell her where the meeting was being held. She took a few steps in one direction, then froze.

Heimdall, she remembered. She almost slammed a fist into the wall when she thought of it. Damn his eyes! Did he know what she would be seeking? Would he have a way of warning Thor and Odin if she did manage to come too close to the private discussions?

As she stood, debating, she heard something else behind her, and whirled around to look. Her heart jumped into her throat.

"I know where they've gone," Loki said.

He had come up behind her so silently—and unguarded. Clara's eyes wandered to his untethered wrists and his unshackled boots and back up to his face, now bearing a vague smile. How had anyone allowed him to leave the dining room this way? Where were his guards? She had never seen him without at least two, much larger than he, since she had first come to Asgard. What was going on?

Clara was about to ask, but when she opened her mouth, all she could say was, "But Heimdall…"

Loki's chuckle was low and cold. "It is no matter." He took a few steps toward her. She pressed herself against the wall, but he moved so that he stood beside her. He paused, tipped his head in one direction of the corridor, stared into her eyes, and said, "Come."

Murderous psychopath, she reminded herself. Jack the Ripper…

But she went.

Against every instinct of self-preservation, every whisper of intuition, every ounce of common sense, Clara walked beside him, Loki leading by half a pace. No more words were spoken between them, but every step of the way, Clara struggled against a haze threatening to engulf her mind. She had no reason to trust him and no reason to believe he was even leading her in the right direction. His physical strength alone was more than twice hers, and he could inflict every conceivable damage upon her. Yet she found herself wanting to reach over and grasp his hand in a plea for protection.

She nearly did—her fingers twitched—before she heard voices drifting ahead of them. As they came closer, she distinguished the voices of Odin, Thor, and a shrill voice that must have been Alflyse.

When they were close enough to tell which room the speakers were in, Loki stepped up behind one of the large sculptures scattered throughout the corridor. Clara, too, paused in the shadows to listen. She heard the rumble of Thor's voice, but still could not hear his specific words. Odin's came more clearly.

"If you are willing, we may perhaps revisit the matter in time. As it is, there are concerns with Midgard, and of course you have seen—"

"And will we have reason to believe you might change your mind?" Alflyse said, her voice no longer weighed down with the honeyed tones she had used before.

"We cannot know, but of course that would be the purpose in holding talks at a later time."

"How could I have expected a different outcome?" Alflyse said, scoffing. "Svartalfheim and my people have always been pushed aside, unworthy of any regard from the great beings of Asgard, unworthy of any place of honor. You would take our treasures and exploit our craftsmen. You would let the Tesseract fall into the hands of vermin like that Midgardian wretch!"

Clara felt her face grow hot.

"Ah, but the great Allfather will never let another place in all of Yggdrasil share a particle of esteem!" Alflyse concluded with thick sarcasm.

"It is regrettable that this is your opinion," Odin said. "Perhaps, over the course of your stay, you will better understand our perspective."

"There will be no further stay, I'm afraid," the Dark Queen said coldly. "We have no purpose here now, and I and my people have been insulted quite enough. We shall take our leave and trouble you no further, Great Odin Allfather."

There was a sound of clinking armor and several footsteps. Clara again pressed herself against the wall, hoping she was concealed well enough by the shadows and the sculpture to be overlooked. Alflyse and her retinue left the chamber and marched down the corridor, away from Clara and Loki's hiding place. They waited, but Thor, Odin, and the other Asgardians did not appear. When the Svartálfar were out of sight and earshot, Clara could hear Thor's voice inside the room.

"Do you think this is the end of it?"

"I would hope so, but I fear that it might not be," Odin answered. "We must keep a closer eye on Svartalfheim than we have in many ages."

"Could there be any further danger to Midgard?" Thor asked.

"From the Dark Elves, you mean? I think not. Alflyse herself has said that her people are divided. She will rail against our alliance with Midgard, but ultimately it will come to nothing."

"But if they have a secret passage to Asgard, then why not Midgard?"

"They do not have the power to reach Midgard," Odin said sternly. "And we shall not allow them to obtain the means to possess such power."

"The Tesseract," Thor said, his voice almost a whisper that Clara could barely hear.

"Precisely. Now, I would ask you all to depart, and leave me to think in privacy."

Suppressing a gasp, Clara turned to Loki, somehow hoping he would conceal them even further from view. But when she looked behind her, he was gone. She had huddled alone in the shadows, she did not know for how long. She held her breath and pressed closer to the statue as Thor rushed by, heading back toward the dining hall. The other Asgardians moved more slowly, but most of them followed him. Clara watched as Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun passed her, with Sif a few paces behind.

The warrior maiden paused, her head held high, and turned back. Her keen eyes immediately met Clara's. Clara suddenly felt like a child caught looking for her Christmas presents. Sif said nothing, however. She only sighed and shook her head before she continued on her way.

Knowing that Odin was the only one left in the next room, Clara did not wait long before she followed the others. She peeked into the dining hall, but Thor was not there. Loki, however, was in his chair, surrounded again by guards, as though nothing was amiss and he had never been gone. Clara scowled before she stole away again and rushed for her own palace rooms, miraculously avoiding anyone else.

She was slightly out of breath when she reached her room, but of course Thor had gotten there before her. His expression was so full of concern, Clara thought he would interrogate her on her whereabouts.

"I thought you'd gone home," he said. She shook her head. He sighed and continued to speak.

"Alas, Clara, I regret to say that Queen Alflyse departed our talks on…less than cordial terms. I…I think it may be best for you to return to Midgard, to be among your own people, until we decide what else should be done, if anything."

"Wait," Clara said. "Am I in danger?" Well, my roommate might try to smother me with a pillow…

"No, but if Alflyse comes back, she may be more willing to cooperate if…well, without the presence of mortals. It is not fair, I know, but it is her prejudice, and we would like to provide what appeasement we can. We know not what may come if she is provoked further. But the Svartálfar have no way to enter Midgard, and you have no reason to fear them there. Heimdall will watch for you. Of course, the choice is yours—you will keep the ring, and can return when, or if you wish."

Clara frowned. "Do you really just want me out of the way?"

He looked at her sadly. "I would not wish you away from me, but I believe this the best course for all, just a short while."

"What if I said no?"

His blue eyes hardened slightly, and she could see the signs of anger of a prince refused. "The choice is yours, and I will not leave you unprotected. But I think it best that you be safely out of reach."

They watched each other in silence for a few moments in which it seemed that neither was prepared to give way. At last, however, Clara sighed.

"Fine, I'll go," she said. "I have my own stuff to do, and I'm supposed to meet Tony soon anyway."

"I will, of course, accompany you home," Thor said.

Clara was about to refuse him out of mere petulance, but when she wondered when she would see him again, she thought twice about it. She nodded and gathered her things.

Home, she thought to herself. Where is that, anyway?