A/N-This will be short and sweet for now. I'll update later with comments (on a new laptop finally, so no issues with malware!). Time is short, but I continue to work diligently...this chapter has been broken into two shorter ones. Just...too much length, and it's always tricky taking the outline and filling it out. In this case, there was more than enough for two chapters, so...

I hope the next one is up within a week or less.

This chapter clears up (I hope) a few questions. The next two answer a few questions and get to the emotional heart of the story.

Thanks as always for reading and following and for reviewing! I love hearing your thoughts.

Comments are up! It took me longer than I thought, because I forgot about yoga class (which I just started, and my body will not let me forget again, lol).

Here's a link to the lovely work Mr-Stark-21 sent a few weeks ago! Guess which scene ;). I hope this works. Writing the url will be a PITA, but it's worth it! I'll post on tumblr too, tigermcqueendottumblrdotcom.

the pic with a convoluted link because fanficdotnet is being a bitch:

h tee tee pee colonslashslash i1316dotphotobucketdotcom slashalbumsslasht601 slashTigerMcQueenslashchap15_zps0db2b6d5 dotpng

Thanks Jax Jesilaux for editing!

Chapter 25-In the end

Loki was less than fifty feet from the captain that led the contingent of Thor's men when he felt it again—magic that came from dark elves.

His first instinct was to turn Falhofnir toward the carriage, which had stayed a quarter behind him for the past hour. He'd ridden ahead of it deliberately as they came down from the mountain road, cloaking himself for a while, for he'd felt something...an ominous feeling that warned of peril ahead.

When they neared the king's soldiers, the feeling had changed to the unmistakable aura of Svartalfheim. He'd quickly backtracked to find the coachman in merry spirits, bidding his master to be quiet when he neared—the occupants of the carriage were asleep, Ulvgeir had said, and it would be unkind to wake them before they arrived at their final destination.

Frowning at his frivolity, Loki had quickly told Ulvgeir that it was not time to be so at ease. He bade him to turn onto a small path that led to an ancient, abandoned watchtower, told him to listen for danger and stay put if he heard the telltale sounds of battle. Hlin was warned that elves were ahead on the road and was told to wake the women to ensure they were on guard; and to keep an eye on the mountains they'd just left, using the magic the boy had learned to contact him if danger also approached from behind.

Now, he briefly lamented the fact that Hogun had not ridden with him. When they'd discussed the journey, the warrior had counseled the need to stay behind at Okershall to watch Doan and his sons. Loki had argued that his skill would be put to better use guarding Asrior, but in the end, he had given in to Hogun's wishes.

Almost as soon as those thoughts flew across his mind, a mass of elves appeared from a glade of trees to stand on the road before him. Loki shouted a warning to the captain, the feel of dark magic growing even stronger.

Battle erupted around him.

The king's soldiers rushed forward to meet the elves, some on horses, others on foot, weapons flashing in the sun—sword and spear, mace and crossbow. The dark elves used magic, their hand-held metal firearms shooting beams of light not unlike the weapons that Stark had designed. The light burnt what it hit, causing as much damage as an Asgardian sword, and all around Loki, the sound of the conflict grew louder. He ignored the battle cries and shouted commands, grunts and cries of pain, trying to concentrate on the task in front of him.

The elves were vastly outnumbered, but they fought fiercely. Loki rode through the melee, not bothering to project decoys as he conjured a thrice-pronged spear to cut a path to where the carriage would appear if Ulvgeir foolishly decided to drive forward.

The carriage did not come into view, though, and as Loki rode though the fight, he hoped that the coachman heard the ruckus and followed his instructions to stay put. Still, he was anxious, for as long as the coach was out of his sight, its inhabitants were vulnerable.

Even as he saw that Sif fought amongst the soldiers, urging her own mount forward to help push back a small wave of elves, the need to ride away from the clash and find Asrior distracted him. It did not make sense, this attack now, when the elves were outnumbered. Why had they not attacked in the mountains, or on the vast and empty Boiling Plain?

Just as he felt something—a push against the base of his neck, as though Hlin were trying to contact him—the dark elves retreated, running toward the woods and disappearing in a flash of blue light as they activated portals.

As the last flash of light faded, Loki rode hard toward the captain of the guard, the fear that gnawed at him growing with every heartbeat. The attack had been too brief. Nothing about it made sense.

And the carriage was alone on the road.

"I need a group of men you trust to ride with me," Loki shouted as he neared, looking at Sif as she rode into view, demanding, "You as well. We have to go back toward the mountains."

The captain, a burly man with a long beard the color of old coins, quirked a brow, his face alight with the odious Asgardian joy for battle.

"Who else are you expecting?" the captain asked loudly, grinning as he held up his bloodied sword. "My weapon has been ill used today. It longs for more thorough exercise..."

"My wife is on the road behind us," Loki snarled, tempted to use a spell to wipe the satisfied smirk from the soldier's face. He would find it difficult indeed to lift his sword if he were the size of an insect. "She is a member of the house of your king, and she is in danger. I suggest you stop making jests and have your men attend me."

He did not wait to see the expression leave the captain's face, though by the tone of the commanding shout he heard behind him, the man had grasped the gravity of the situation. As Loki rode toward the hills, Sif thundering beside him, he heard the answering gallops of other horses trailing behind.

Loki did not stop to look, only daring to slow minutes later when he approached the small road where he'd instructed Ulvgeir to wait...and even then, he reduced his speed just enough to make the turn.

Only when he rushed up the path to the old tower, the carriage was nowhere to be seen.

And he did not feel magic anymore. The air was eerily still.

He turned Falhofnir so quickly that the horse protested, rushing back to the main road, his heart pounding. The soldiers that the captain had sent after him were there with Sif. One of the men was removed from his mount, bending over a lone blue-tinged figure lying half in the brush that lined the road.

Loki had rushed by so quickly that he'd missed him, but now he flew from Falhornir, gasping as his boots hit the road. "Hlin!"

They boy did not stir, and the soldier with him said, "He's injured, my lord."

Hlin's head was bleeding, the side of his forehead singed, as though he'd been hit with one of the dark elf weapons.

"Can you wake him?" Loki asked, looking around frantically, as though the carriage would appear at any moment. His heart, which had not ceased pounding since he'd first felt the dark magic, beat with such quickness that it was hard to speak.

"He needs a healing room," Sif said, sounding grave as she dismounted as well. "We're not trained for..."

"Not yet," Loki injected, turning to look the other soldiers, using all his strength to concentrate on what needed to be done. He pointed as he spoke, saying, "I need riders to look for others that were in my party. You four, go up toward the mountain—my coach carried a woman with red hair, and an older woman. My coachman as well. Send someone back quickly with word if you find anyone...or anything that looks of dark elf origin."

As the soldiers spurred their horses forward, the one holding Hlin prodded, "And him, my lord?"

"Wait," Loki rasped, trying to keep the desperation from his voice as he knelt by his ward. He glanced up at the female beside him, saying, "You as well, Sif. Wait while I do this."

Sif opened her mouth, as though to ask a question, but Loki did not listen. He was readying to project, and his eyes closed as he allowed his mind to slip away, concentrating on Asrior. Wherever she was, he would find her. His power was such that he could find anyone, no matter where—across realms even.

He felt the familiar tug as his mind began to move, as though something hooked around the base of his skull to drag it across...

Only the feeling stopped, a force pushing hard against his entire body. Loki's eyes shot open, meeting the Sif's wary gaze as he swayed on his knees.

"What..." she began, but Loki shook his head, closing his eyes and trying again. He had to force himself not to panic, telling himself that his attempt had failed because he'd been too distracted.

It happened again, though. As soon as his mind began to move, something pushed back on it, hard.

"My lord," the soldier holding Hlin began when he saw the god's eyes open, his body jerking again. "He is stirring."

Hlin's eyes were fluttering open, and as he came into consciousness, he looked around and tried to sit up, his voice frantic.

"No!" he shouted, pushing against the soldier that held him. "The carriage! It...there was light..."

His eyes came to rest upon Loki, who placed a hand on the boy's arm and tried to keep his voice calm as he explained, "You are with me and with Thor's soldiers. Can you tell me what happened?"

Sif moved to kneel as well, her gaze moving between the god next to her and the boy that lay against the soldier.

"I... I tried to stop him," Hlin sounded close to tears. "I tried, when he attacked. I... I failed. I'm sorry..."

"Who?" Loki asked, though he knew before he completed the question. "Who did this?"

"Ulvgeir. He had a strange weapon," Hlin panted, trying to sit up, but he fell back after a moment with a grunt of pain. "When I moved to wake Asrior and Saldis...he stopped me. I turned...Jotun, but he... I grabbed him, but..."

It was difficult not to shout at him, to demand that he tell where Asrior was. Loki forced himself to take a deep breath, his reassuring as he said, "I'm sure you did everything you could. We trusted him...we all did."

"I managed to burn him. Only a little. His first shot...grazed. But he stunned me after..."

"And Asrior? Where did he drive off to?" Loki asked, stopping to press his lips together, for fear laced his voice.

"A portal. Giant one." Hlin was crying, speaking with great difficulty. "It swallowed everything. I don't... I don't remember after... I think I tried... I tried to contact you... He took Asrior..."

Terror such as Loki had never felt before lanced him. It took everything in him to maintain control as he moved his hand, placing it on top of Hlin's head. "You did good, lad," he assured him, only the smallest quaver in his voice betraying his emotions. "I should have stayed with you. If there is anyone to blame, it is me."

"No..." Hlin was shaking his head. "The portal...never seen the like before. You... you would not have stopped..."

And then his eyes began to flutter again, closing once more.

Pushing to stand, Loki looked at the soldier cradling Hlin and said, "You can take him to heal now...take four men as guards and ride as swiftly as you can."

"And what of us?" Sif asked, her voice low.

"I must inform Thor that Asrior has been taken," Loki snapped, turning to Falhofnir. "We must go to Alflyse immediately."

"Do you think it wise to leave? She may still be on the road..." Sif was saying, but he was already on his horse.

"The soldiers will not find her," he countered grimly, holding an impatient Falhofnir back momentarily. "You heard what Hlin said about the portal. Come with me, for your help will be needed when we attack Valtur. We will need Fandral and Volstagg as well."

He pushed the horse hard then, racing toward the city as though he could outrun the panic that threatened to overtake him. The fact that he'd been pushed away when he tried to project to her location confirmed his worst fears.

Asrior was gone, taken by someone Loki had trusted with her care. She was hidden from his view by her father's magic, so removed that it was as though she did not exist. And she would likely be in Valtur's hands very soon, once again subject to his torture.

During this many years, despite all that he had done and all that had been done to him, Loki rarely felt helpless. To feel so powerless now when it was so important to be strong was almost beyond enduring.

All he could do was urge Falhofnir faster, bitterly wishing that he had the same childish faith in prayer that Asrior had once held. He needed something to cling to in the coming days, some desperate form of hope or faith. Something that would allow him to believe that, in the end, he would find her. Otherwise his tormented thoughts would drive him to madness. Otherwise, he would be doomed to fail.

And the consequences of that were too horrifying to consider.

….

Asrior fought the entire way to Jerrik's coach, kicking backward at Herluf as the man dragged her along the road. He held her arms behind her back, twisting them so that they hurt, and she could feel a cut on one wrist where he'd torn off Stark's weapons.

Her foot made contact with Herluf's shin, and the man grumbled with annoyance, yanking her arms tighter behind her.

"Elf bitch..." he snarled, causing Jerrik to throw him a look over his shoulder.

"I have warned you not to harm her," Jerrik scolded, sounding as though he dealt with an ill-trained child. "We made promises to Valtur. I advise you not to break them."

Herluf answered the other man by mumbling darkly, and as they approached the carriage, he pushed Asrior into the interior so hard that she fell upon the floorboards.

"You should check on my men she hit...and try to rouse Ulvgeir as well," Jerrik was saying, waving a hand regally as he climbed into the coach. As he settled against a cushioned bench, he looked at where Asrior had scrambled, huddling on the seat opposite him. "I hope you did not harm my courtiers, my dear. Though I have promised your father that you will remain untouched until he returns to Asgard, I will be bound by no such oath after he gives you to me."

"What if they're dead?" the younger man asked, pushing away from the open, his voice surly.

"It is unlikely, but put them in the other coach and drive it to my palace. Leave no one behind, not even the other woman." Jerrik sounded impatient. "And do it quickly. I know we have Valtur's sorcery to protect us, but being in the open such as this is worrisome. Tell the coachman to drive on, and follow as quickly as you can."

Asrior watched in silence, her mind racing as the two men spoke, her body back against the bench cushions. She shrank from the man who sat across from her, as though to hide, despite the fact that such an act was futile.

Indeed, as soon as the door slammed shut, Jerrik fixed his gaze on her, a revolting mixture of covetousness and triumph crossing his face.

"Do not look so frightened my dear," he oozed, relaxing against the seat as the carriage began to move. "I'm not going to hurt you, so long as you stay put... my coachman and the one guard you did not manage to injure are well armed."

Asrior longed to lunge at him, to claw at his face despite his warning. She wanted to cry with despair. She wanted to shout for help, to seek escape...

She wanted Loki.

But she could not give in to her emotions. Talking to Jerrik would be necessary if she were to cull information necessary to survive the coming ordeal.

"The journey will not be a long one, but still, you should try to relax, Asrior."

Calling upon the bitter experience she gained as Valtur's daughter, she pulled her face into impassive lines and calmly looked at Jerrik, asking, "Where are we going?"

"My palace," he said, patting his robes into place with an air of smugness. "Where you should have been long ago, if you weren't so... disobedient."

"But you live in Nornheim." She was unable to keep the surprise from her voice.

"Yes...a bit of your father's doing, our being able to travel across Asgard so quickly. Though I must admit, it was a close thing, both getting the portal to Ulvgeir in time and the whole damn escapade working so well. I was worried that Laufeyson would remain attached to your carriage the entire time, but apparently, he was foolish enough to take the bait we offered."

"Bait?" Asrior asked, hoping that Jerrik did not hear the pounding of her heart, for she desperately wanted him to keep talking.

He made a face as though the details annoyed him. "Oh, elves projected to where the soldiers were waiting for you. The plan was to draw Loki away from your carriage long enough to allow Ulvgeir to activate the portal to Nornheim. Apparently, it worked. " Jerrik shuddered slightly, adding, "Thank the gods. I have no wish to do that again. Valtur admitted that inner-realm portals can be tricky as Hel."

"Your plan will not work for long." Asrior sounded braver than she felt, for she knew that with every movement of the carriage, she was getting further and further away from safety. "In the end, my husband will find you. He will kill you for taking me."

Jerrik actually laughed, his portly frame shaking with the force of it.

"No, I do not think so. My palace is too well protected by Valtur's magic...even this coach is cloaked to Laufeyson's view." His thick lips turned up, and he sounded almost apologetic as he explained, "You see, your husband has been trying for a very long time to access my home, with no success. This spell is very powerful."

Desolation beyond any she'd ever felt filled her, for it was only then that the full extent of what was to happen to her sank in.

Loki had been working on breaking Valtur's spells for months and had barely breached the palace gate before getting pushed back, and he had no idea how he'd done even that much. He had thought he was close to unlocking Valtur's secret at one point, and then his work had stalled. Despite her husband's power, Asrior was under no illusions that his task would be easy or quick. If fortune smiled on them, it would be only days before help came, but it would most likely take months or even years.

And until Loki could break the spell, Asrior would be veiled from him. She would be alone again, left with only her wits to protect her—and she did not know if she would remain so little scarred this time.

"Your arrogance will be your downfall," she said, keeping her voice firm despite the terror pulsing through her body.

"No, my dear." Jerrik shook his head, a slight smile on his face, as though he held a secret. "I am afraid that it is Loki Laufeyson's arrogance that will be his undoing."

She did not answer, instead concentrating as hard as possible on keeping her breathing even. The thought of being under Valtur's whip—or worse—was agonizing, and the coming pain was as inevitable as the cycles of the seasons.

Be brave.

Asrior closed her eyes briefly, slipping back into her mind to find the strength she would need for the hardship ahead.

This time, though, it was not Birgitta that she visited or Kagoq. Instead, Asrior remembered her time at the boulders with Loki...when he had offered to help her with horses. She remembered how he'd sneered at her fear when she'd refused, calling her a coward.

Loki had been willing to provoke her anger in order to remind her what she was capable of doing. He had believed in her. And he had been so kind afterward, offering her comfort when she realized that he was right, that she was giving in to her fears instead of confronting them. The memory of his arms around her after their argument was so strong that it was as though he sat next to her now.

Courage.

"We're approaching the palace now."

Asrior looked over at Jerrik, who was peering through the carriage window.

"Does Valtur wait inside?" she asked, feeling calmer, for knew that whatever happened, she would find the strength to endure. Loki would not give up his efforts to break the magic, and he would work even harder now that she had been taken from him. He would not forsake her...Asrior knew that with every fiber of her being. She refused to betray him by allowing her fright to control her.

"No, I'm afraid your father remains on Svartalfheim," Jerrik said, sighing. "It has been imperative that he remain near his queen. She is much too shrewd, you see, and Valtur must remain beyond suspicion of any attacks on Asgard for now."

Asrior did her best to look bland. "And what shall I do while he is on another realm?"

He cast a longing look at her. "You will be my guest. I have promised Valtur that nothing will be done to you until he is here."

So he would not touch her, not yet. Asrior wanted to weep with thanks for the small favor. Perhaps she had time to work out a means of escape.

The carriage slowed as they neared his palace, and a quick look through the windows showed that heavy wooden gates adorned with gilt were slowly opening to receive them. Within minutes, they were stopped inside a courtyard, a servant pulling the door open and helping his master down.

"Come now, my dear," Jerrik demanded as slid from the coach in a flourish of purple robe. "You must get acquainted with your new home."

He was holding a hand out to assist her, but Asrior ignored it, climbing from the coach on her own.

Jerrik shrugged at the rebellious act, smirking as he muttered, "Your defiance only whets my appetite, child."

Nausea rose in her, but Asrior's face remained calm as she gazed at her surroundings. Armored men milled about, as well as a few who dressed similarly to the lord of the palace.

"This way," Jerrik was saying, his hand on her back as he pressed her forward. "My oldest sons are visiting. I shall introduce you."

Leading her forward as though his hosting kidnapped females were an everyday occurrence, Jerrik smiled at the two younger men in flowing, colorful robes, men who looked very much like their father.

"Osl, Tyrvi, may I present to you Asrior of Svartalfheim..." he began, simpering.

"I am Asrior of Asgard," she injected, standing as tall as she could, looking in them the eyes as she tried to impress on them the extent of their father's foolishness. "I am wife to Loki Laufeyson, who rules the lower countries, and I am a member of the house of Thor, your king. You will pay a great price by keeping me here against my will."

One of the men curled up a lip, while the other threw his father a nervous glance.

But Jerrik was making a tsking sound. "I can only presume that you are provoking me on purpose. You must want my attentions, my dear."

"I speak only the truth." Asrior remained unruffled, though she looked around the courtyard, wondering where his youngest son was. Pauulus was young and uncertain...perhaps she could persuade him to help...

"Ah...the other coach has arrived." Jerrik eyed the great gates as they opened, watching as the other carriage was slowly led inside. Asrior turned as well, looked beyond the gate to the green field that lay beyond the drive, wondering if Loki were out there watching...trying to enter.

Jerrik took her arm, leading her to the great marble steps that led to a palatial gold portico. "I have work to do, so you will retire to your new chambers. If you are good, I will allow you down later for supper."

She kept her face serene as she allowed him to take her up the steps, asking, "Will someone inform me of my servant's health once she has been attended to? Her name is Saldis, and her family has long served the royal house."

"Mmmm..." Jerrik made a noncommittal noise, and when two servants dressed in ornate livery opened the grand palace doors, he entered with a sweep of his robes.

Instead of following him, Asrior paused briefly, turning to look at the gate. It was closing slowly, the hint of green still visible, and she wondered how much time would pass before she set foot outside again.

Jerrik was urging her forward, though, his voice growing impatient. Asrior took a deep, fortifying breath as the gate slid closed, then turned and stepped inside her new prison.

….

If Asrior hoped to find help with Pauulus, she understood almost immediately that it would not be forthcoming.

He was waiting in the palace's grand dining room when a maid took her downstairs to supper. As soon as she walked in, the boy sent her a scathing look from his spot near his father, his eyes sullen. Asrior kept her head high despite his stare, looking regally over the sumptuous spread that graced the room's elongated dining table.

Jewel encrusted dishes and shimmering golden goblets lay on an embroidered cloth the same scarlet color as the coach that had born her to the palace. The dishware was piled high with fruit and roasted meats, bread and cakes dripping with candied flowers. It was beyond elaborate—beyond anything ever served at Okershall, the home of a prince of Asgard. The table rivaled those at court when feasts were held, and as Asrior took in the scene before her, she realized that Jerrik already considered himself a king.

"Ah...you have arrived," he was saying, turning from the sideboard that held a selection of wine bottles. Jerrik poured pale gold liquid into a goblet as he spoke. "I trust you found your chambers comfortable?"

Asrior had barely noticed her surroundings when she'd been shown to her new rooms. She'd spent the afternoon pacing and plotting instead, until the maid came to tell her it was time for supper.

"My chambers are comfortable indeed, my lord," she murmured, moving toward the table, almost thankful that years living with Valtur had trained her to act so composed. "I hope that the woman attending me has been given similar quarters. I have yet to hear of her condition."

"Your servant is well, I'm sure, for I would have been informed if she were dead," he simpered, moving forward and motioning to a chair. "You may sit here, my dear, beside me."

Her skin crawled at the look he sent her, but Asrior simply nodded, sliding into the seat as Jerrik's sons moved to sit as well. The two older men looked almost bored, one of them motioning to a servant to begin serving with an impatient wave. Pauulus, on the other hand, gave her another foul look as he settled into his seat on the other side of his father.

"She will be sent to me when she is healed?"

"Of course not. Though I promise you that she will remain unharmed." Jerrik sat at the head of the table, smiling. And as he leaned back in his chair, sipping from his goblet, he eyed Asrior's dress. "You look lovely. I am pleased that you changed into something so proper. I thought you might seek to provoke me by showing up in your stained travel gear."

"I choose my battles wisely, my lord," Asrior said, lifting a shoulder. "And the clothes I wore earlier were in need of washing."

It was a lie, for the only reason she'd changed was because the maid sent to bring her to dinner had almost burst into tears when she saw Asrior's attire, blubbering that Jerrik would blame her if their guest went to supper wearing clothing covered in filth. Asrior had changed immediately, apologizing to the girl for losing track of time, hoping that she might cultivate an ally in the servant.

"If I am not mistaken, you're wearing a garment from Midgard." Jerrik paused as he looked at her, his goblet half raised to his lips. "The design looks of that realm."

Asrior was startled, but did not let it show as she answered, "Yes, this is Midgardian. I did not know that you were familiar with it."

"Mmmmm..." Jerrik nodded when a servant offered up a dish of vegetables, answering with a vague air, "I have traveled there, but not often. Just...a visit here and there. You have been, I take it?"

She lifted a goblet that another servant filled and set in front of her. "Only once."

"And what did you do when you were there?" one of his sons injected, his voice pointed. "The weapon Herluf took from you was not of Asgard."

Asrior did not think it wise to tell the men of Tony's work. So she smiled slightly. "Thor gave me the weapons, and I am not sure of their origin. I visited friends on Midgard...friends of Thor who befriended me after my marriage. I went shopping...visited a menagerie. They held a feast. It was purely social."

Jerrik's eyes narrowed. "Social? Laufeyson was with you?"

"Of course," she said, her brow rising. "Where else would my husband be? He was with me at all times."

"He was accepted there?" The son was speaking again, and Asrior thought it was the one called Osl. "After what he did on that realm?"

"With certain conditions," she admitted, trying to make their visit sound innocuous. "We were not there for long...Loki did not go out much to appease the Midgardians. He spent most of his time studying while we were there. Our host had a most interesting library."

"What did he study?" Jerrik's gaze turned even sharper.

"Midgardian constellations," Asrior said without missing a beat, and though she wondered at Jerrik's interest in Loki's actions, she could not help the soft smile that lit her face at the memory. "He showed them to me our last night there, after the feast in our honor."

To her surprise, Jerrik slumped in his seat, suddenly looking as though he were a child denied a treat. "Laufeyson rutted with you. You are not untouched."

Asrior blinked, her fork frozen halfway to her mouth. "Our marriage was consummated, yes," she choked, unwilling to tell the man before her more than that simple fact. One of his older sons sent Jerrik a knowing smirk, and her stomach began to churn.

"Damn." A look of such disappointment filled his face that Asrior would have laughed if she had not felt so ill at the thought of having to lie with him. "I had hoped that I... But never mind. I am sure I can find delights of the flesh that you are yet uninitiated in."

The fork in her hand clattered to her plate, for Asrior's appetite, little as it was, deserted her.

Jerrik did not notice the look on her face, for there was movement by the door, and a surly voice barked, "What is she doing here?"

Asrior turned startled eyes to the sound even as Jerrik groused, "Mind your tongue, Ulvgeir, lest I send you to eat with the servants instead."

The coachman walked slowly into the room, his body stiff, as though he was in great discomfort. "Maybe I'd rather eat with them."

"I doubt it," one of the sons grunted, shoveling food in his mouth as he taunted, "Some of Valtur's men eat with them as well. Move elves."

Her brow almost shot up at that news, but Asrior looked down at her plate in an effort to control her features, tucking the information away for later use.

"I didn't bring her here so you could start a damn elf colony," the coachman was muttering as he yanked a chair back.

"No, you bought Asrior here to my keeping until Valtur is free to take her back to Svartalfheim," Jerrik said, his voice icy. "And the only reason you attend my table is because of that fact. Your views on her race are well known. Content yourself with the knowledge that when you return to Okershall, it shall be completely free of her presence."

Asrior's back stiffened. "He will not be welcomed back at Okershall, not after what he has done. Loki will never..."

"Your precious husband won't be there when Ulvgeir returns," Pauulus said, speaking up from the other side of his father. His eyes glittered maliciously as he leaned on the table and sneered at Asrior. "Do you think we mean to overthrow Thor only..."

"Enough!" The word burst from Jerrik as he threw a cautious look at his son. "Do not get ahead of yourself, Pauulus." Then he glanced at Ulvgeir, his face shuttering. "And some plans are best kept close to your chest. Remember that lesson."

Ulvgeir grunted as a servant began filling his plate with food, the gaze he turned to Jerrik filled with speculation. Asrior watched him from the corner of her eyes, wondering if she could glean any more information from him. He would not willingly speak to her, that much was clear, but...

"How are my other men," Jerrik asked, his mouth thick with food as he jutted his chin in Ulvgeir's direction. "You were more injured than them, were you not?" He looked pointedly at the coachman's neck, which was covered with a flesh-colored bandage. "You still heal? The wounds were that damaging?"

"The others healed faster, but she was inches from me when she fired," Ulvgeir mumbled defensively, his eyes moving to his plate, staring at it as he answered. Asrior saw that the crest of his cheek had turned red. "My neck will be back to normal by tomorrow."

Asrior blinked, for he had deliberately skirted over the fact that she had not injured his neck. The black mark had been there when she'd stepped from the coach. The injury had most likely been given by Hlin, she realized—Loki had said that a Jotun's touch burnt Asgardian skin, and the boy had probably turned into his true form when he sensed danger. And for whatever reason, Ulvgeir did not want it known that Hlin had so hurt him.

They would not know that Hlin had even ridden with them...and Ulvgeir had said that no one was to be left behind...

Pushing the food around on her plate, Asrior absorbed the knowledge in silence, trying to piece together the little she had learned to help her form a plan.

The rest of the meal passed slowly, with no conversation outside of Jerrik's self-satisfied comments. When they were finally finished, he called a servant to bring Asrior back to her chambers, pressing a wet kiss on her hand before she left.

She managed not to wipe her hand on her skirt until she was safely in the confines of her room; and as the familiar sound of a lock clicking echoed behind her, she began to pace again, her mind racing.

Sleep would be almost impossible, but eventually, Asrior put on a nightdress and crawled into the room's bed. She tried to keep focused on the situation at hand as she lay still, but her mind kept freezing with worry over Hlin and Saldis. And it was impossible not to think of Loki.

They had spent only four nights together as husband and wife, but he had stayed with her much longer—she was accustomed to his presence in her chambers, and the silence now was odd. She missed the sound of his breathing, of the paper rustling when he turned the pages of his books...his half-hearted grunting at the cats.

It was like the time she had returned to Svartalfheim without Kagoq, only a thousand times worse. Asrior had been filled with loneliness at the loss of her friend, but had not felt such despair. She had not ached then as she did now.

And now...she wondered what Loki did at that very moment, imagining that he was bent over his books, desperate to find a solution to Valtur's magic. Or maybe he was with Thor and his warriors, trying to find a way to explain everything that had happened to her. She wondered if he was raging with fury, or sitting in silent condemnation, blaming himself for her being taken.

Longing pierced her at the thought of him. She wanted to hear Loki's voice. She wanted to put her arms around him, to sooth the anger he must feel and assure him that she was safe. She wanted to feel him stretched out beside her on the bed. She wanted to feel his chest move at her back, his breath stir the hair at her neck. It was comforting having him next to her.

Asrior had felt secure for those four nights that she had slept beside him—safe—and he had been content as well. It might be an eternity before they felt such again, and she did not dare allow herself to even consider that Loki would fail in his quest to protect her.

He would come for her, she told herself, clinging to the thought as a prayer. Loki would come for her, and she would not allow herself to fall into doubt or self-pity while she waited.

….

"You are not sleeping, brother?'

Loki did not turn to look at Thor, keeping his eyes on the city below as he answered, "Of course I'm not sleeping. Would you be so inclined if you were in my position?"

He could feel Thor's eyes probing him, but still, he did not turn.

"What is your position?"

"My wife has been kidnapped," Loki snarled, scowling at the lights below him. "And those I seek to help me dare to wonder if she went willingly."

Thor's voice was gentle. "Sif did not mean..."

"Her meaning was clear. I saw the doubt on your face as well, Thor." Loki's head swirled to better glare at his brother, an accusation in his glittering eyes. "Think of everything you know of Asrior, and think of what you know of her father. You must realize by now that she would never go to him of her own..."

"But would she stay with you, Loki?" Thor asked quietly. "I think of what I know of Asrior and you, and...I wonder if she did not run from you."

Loki remembered the look in Asrior's eyes the morning she'd sat on the edge of the bed and held his hand over her heart.

"Yes she would stay with me," he said, his voice rumbling with emotion. "We came to an accord on that matter not long before we left to visit here."

"You...you are certain?" Thor's voice was hesitant. "She was not in accord with you when I visited, nor were you inclined to trust her. Far from it."

Loki found that he did not have the heart to grow more offended at his brother's doubt. It did not matter what Thor believed or any of the others. The curse bound his lips from telling them the full truth—and in the end, the only thing that really mattered was getting Asrior back, and he was the only one who could break the damn magic that held her.

"Things changed after she was attacked," Loki said simply, turning his gaze back to the lights. "For both of us."

Thor's eyes were still trained on him. Something in the tone of his voice or the weary slump of his shoulders must have convinced him, for his brother said, "I believe you, Loki. It is just...difficult to understand given what I saw of your relationship when I last saw you both." He paused for a moment, adding staunchly, "Hlin is certainly devoted to her. The boy has been in a constant state of tears since he woke, though he tries hard to hide it."

"He saw her for what she is before any of us," Loki muttered, pushing away his guilt ruthlessly. Such emotion would not help get her back. Indeed, it had weakened him, caused him to take actions that left Asrior vulnerable.

"What is she like to you?"

Loki had to swallow hard before answering. "She is uncommonly brave. She finds such...joy in things. Nothing is too unimportant for her attention." His voice was filled with bitter amusement, for he was everything that she was not, and he craved the brightness of her being as a man going blind craved the light of the sun. "She is very kind. She is foolish enough to think the same of me."

"And you are certain that she is with Jerrik?" Thor probed.

Loki snorted, stepping away from the balcony railing he'd leaned upon, turning to walk back to the sitting room that connected the royal apartments. "I get pushed away every time I try to project to her location. It is the same magic that binds me from Jerrik's palace. She has to be there." He paused, for a lump of fear filled his throat, making talk difficult again. "She must be there if what you say about Valtur being with Alflyse is correct."

Thor followed him, saying, "I have already assured you, Valtur has been in constant attendance at his queen's court. He has left her side little since we visited."

Sitting on one of the room's benches, Loki bent elbows to knees, clasping his hands together so tightly that it hurt. "You're sure?"

"Yes." Thor sat as well, his face full of conviction. "We have our spies there, you know. Asrior is not with him...though I cannot promise that she is not on Svartalfheim."

"She's not." Loki cast his brother a look, admitting, "I projected to Valtur's fortress. It was near empty, with only a small contingent of men guarding it. And no magic protected it, for I was able to roam without hindrance."

Indeed, he'd spent hours scouring the place for Asrior, moving from room to room in fruitless effort, wondering which of the cold and dark chambers had been her prison as a child. The thought of her being locked in such a forbidding place angered him, but he had ignored the emotion, for it did no good to dwell on such when he had to find her...

"And if she is kept elsewhere in that realm?" Thor was asking.

"I will find her no matter where she is held," Loki promised, his voice quavering only a little as he began to censure himself, "I should be looking now instead of brooding...looking for a solution to this magic that hides her. I have overlooked something. I am missing something that is...it is right before my eyes, I can feel it..."

His voice grew wilder as he spoke, and it was with great difficulty that he stopped, taking a deep breath in an effort to rein in his unsteady emotions. Loki wanted to rage as he had earlier when he'd arrived at the palace—wanted to shout as he'd done when Sif had dared ask if his wife did had run away on her own. He wanted to strike out, to find Ulvgeir and make him hurt as he feared Asrior was now hurting. Wanted to kill Valtur...slowly, brutally...

A burning filled him at the thought of Asrior being placed back to Valtur's mercy, for the elf lord would be vicious when he finally had his daughter in his hands. And time—that property was in horrifically short supply.

Loki had felt despair before—when he'd learned of Odin's lies, when he'd fallen into the abyss, when his mother had died. But nothing compared to the sting of desperation that he now seemed to be drowning in.

Thor's voice broke through his tortured thoughts. "What do you need from us, Loki? Tell me what you need, and it shall be yours."

He looked at his brother, his eyes despairing. "I need time. I fear you cannot give me what I need." He took a shaking breath, shaking his head. "Outside of that, I will need you and the others to be ready when it is time for battle. I need to know Valtur's every step while he is with Alflyse. I need spies outside of Jerrik's gate, for I cannot be there as often as I would like."

"It will be done," Thor said, nodding. "You have spoken with Hogun?"

Nodding, Loki muttered, "He is on his way here as we speak. He... he said the men we were watching in Ringsfjord scattered to the winds a day after we left. He has been searching for them; he sent word, but it has not arrived. The courtier was likely captured."

Thor nodded, a thoughtful look on his face before he said, "You should try to rest, Loki. We shall visit Alflyse tomorrow. Valtur will be there, and you will not want to look weakened when we arrive at her court."

Loki's head jerked up, his eyes sharpening as he asked, "Your men have returned from Svartalfheim?"

"Yes. With an entirely inadequate message from their queen asking for time to speak to Valtur," Thor grunted, a mulish look in his eyes. "I am not inclined to wait for her summons."

A reluctant smile touched Loki's mouth at his brother's boldness. He rather enjoyed how Thor was growing into his role as king, though he would never admit it to him.

Thor had pushed to stand, though, saying "We leave tomorrow at daybreak. Alflyse might play games, but in the end, she will learn that we are not to be trifled with."

"In the end?" Loki asked, his voice growing rough at the thought of what lay ahead. And as he looked at his brother's determined face, he found consolation in the brashness there. The arrogance was as familiar as his own heartbeat, and Loki knew that whatever Thor set his mind upon—hunting Perytons or battling fire demons or even saving the wretched mortal realm from invasion—he always managed to succeed.

And now, he looked every inch a king as he spoke—though for once, he did not remind Loki of Odin. This was Thor, King of Asgard, not a shadow or imitation of their father.

"Yes." There was no doubt in Thor's voice as he assured him, "In the end, we will bring Asrior back, Loki. You have my promise."

And now...comments!

Guest #3–You did not have to wait very long! Although you are still hanging a bit, aren't you? And you'll be kept hanging, at least for a bit more, for I'll warn you—Loki will not find it easy breaking Valtur's magic. Asrior, sadly, is accustomed to surviving bleak situations, and she has the tools to deal with whatever is next (though it won't be a walk in the park). The question is, how will Loki cope? He still has a thing or two to learn, I'll say that much. Thanks for your very nice words about the fic, and, as always, here's hoping the next part is done soon.

Ilaaris-Thanks very much for your nice words! I am writing as quickly as I can. I have to warn you, these next three/four chapters are *very important*, to me as a writer and to the resolution of the fic. The writing goes well when I have time, but the thing is *time* (like Loki laments). I think this next update will be finished soon, but I cannot make promises for those that come after. Even if the writing goes fast, sometimes I need to step back for a few days before reviewing to make sure I'm getting the emotional nuances just right. But despite my sometimes slowness, thank you for hanging in and reading!

Mr-Stark-21-I dearly love your comments ;). I loved Loki brushing the hair, because he is so very fascinated with Asrior's hair. And as far as Loki's reaction to that first night...You're right, he doesn't quite realize (yet) the full extent of his emotional investment in his wife. He really hasn't had time for deep thoughts, though he'll have more of it now. But...his reaction wasn't just about that night, not totally. Thinking about what Asrior's life was like before just pierces him. He hates that she was surrounded by people and yet so alone when she was being hurt by her father. And he really hates that he hurt her on their wedding night and then took her to a place where she was hated and vulnerable. He absolutely cannot get over that she was just as alone when she was first with him as when she was with Valtur. I hope this chapter answered a few questions as to why Loki left and what happened with Hlin. And their time at court will come. Eventually hehehehehe.

Guest #2-Yes, the gods will come to the rescue with a vengeance! And a few other friends too ;). Thanks for your comment...I hope you liked this update!

Strangedazey-Yes, the dreaded cliffhanger! HAH, I love them. Thank you for the review...and more Loki feels and Asrior being a badass to come!

Guest #1-Thanks for your review! Yes, things will get worse, despite the relative calm before the storm in this update. The cameras...don't work with the spell. The scars would not show to anyone who did not know. Although I will say this much...Midgard might still hold a solution ;).

BlooAngels-Hlin will be fine! Loki, sadly, cannot help soon...though he will persevere with help ;). Asses will eventually get kicked. The black mark was a burn from Hlin in his Jotun form trying to attack Ulvgeir...who is not dead and still has a rather important part to play in this. Thank you for the review and the cookies, and here's hoping that time finds me rather than runs away laughing manically (as it has done recently).

SissyPerigrin-Thank you! HEHHHHEHEHHEHEH.

Shelly-YES! Poor Loki is right. And that Hulk smash? Jdfaklsdjfa;ldskj; I hope you enjoy the monster when he is let loose ;). Thanks very much for the review!

HarryPotterFreakie-Thank you! I love reading all comments but yours especially made my day!

sidlewild-Loki fell for a trick, Hlin will be ok, and Asrior? Well... she's ok for now. I hope this update didn't take too long, though. And I really hope the next one goes very quickly! Thanks for reviewing!

MightBeValerie-I think I was posting last time just as you left your last review, lol. Thanks for the nice review about chap 25, and I am actually pleased that you are torn between violence and hugs! I totally understand that feeling ;). And I hope you enjoyed this latest update.

Candy flaps –Ah, I almost feel sorry for Ulvgeir, because I know what's next for him. And I'm not just talking about retribution, but...he's going to be very unhappy with the choices he made, unhappy with everyone. And Loki is actually learning to step away from the guilt (though it is very much something he will feel for a while), because it clouded his judgment during the journey to court...if he had not been so tormented and wanting to think, he'd probably have made different choices (like riding in the coach). But as Hlin said, it might not have made a difference. Loki will not find things easy, though he gets help, I'll say that much ;). Thanks for your review, and hopefully this latest update answered a few questions for you and others.

London calling–Thanks for your comments on the last update...and I think you will enjoy what's in store for Ulvgeir. It actually makes me giggle a bit, and I think it will be very satisfying for a number of reasons ;). I think this update may have answered some of your questions, especially about Hlin, who will be fine. And he will eventually get a chance to...hah, you'll see.

Zippythewondersquirrel-Ah, poor Loki and the bloody nightgown. And poor everyone for what happened on the way from the mountains. It was a close thing, and perhaps Loki's judgment was a bit clouded from his wanting to just ride out his emotions. But he made a rather rational choice in his mind. He trusted Ulvgeir. They all did. Thanks for your comments, I love reading reactions!

amakitkat –First, thanks for your review! Second, I would apologize for the cliffie, but I love them too much to do so ;). Loki...with help...will indeed fuck up a number of bastards...in time. Jerrik...well, you shall see.

Fat Old Sun–I say this with all my heart...LOL! Thank you!

Sweets1111–Thank you very much for leaving your comment...and yes, they were *so close*.

NoVacancyMind-YES...YESYESYES, lol. I *love* that the cliffie left you in misery, and thank you very much for still adoring the chapter. Poor Loki. Poor Asrior. The feels, they will continue ;). And I really really really will try to update a lot quicker this time.

MutiaRAWR–Thank you very much for your kind words about the last update. As you can see now, no one kept an eye on the coach because it was gone in the blink of an eye. And you are right, Loki (and I'm Not Taking Any Shit Thor!) are going to court! And Hogun will reunite with the warriors. And eventually, many of our avenger friends will help. And, OH, Loki will have a hard time not becoming consumed by frustration and desperation and will discover a few things about himself. And Asrior is ok. For now...