I am flesh and I am bone
Rise up, ting ting, like glitter and gold
I've got fire in my soul
Rise up, ting ting, like glitter
Like glitter and gold

- Barns Courtney, "Glitter & Gold"

This is the concluding chapter of the main story. I can't believe that I have finished this! I am quite wistful right now ._. There is one epilogue after this that I will upload tomorrow. Thank you for staying with this story to the end! I hope this toothache-sweet ending is to your liking :) I just had to do it. I love happy endings, and I think our couple deserved this one very much. I also couldn't resist to finally let the dragon king make an appearance in his dragon form. Enjoy and have fun reading!

XXXV. A Golden Time

Dying is a very tedious business. A broken bone heals slower than a rend to a muscle, and faster than impaled vitals. An injury grave enough to have caused death within minutes, healed within seconds – it left a mark on the body, and took much from it. Loki knew, in that strangely hazy time after his resurrection, that he had indeed been very dead. He had denied it at the time when it had happened, as a mind so often flinches from a horrible truth, but the state he was left in made things quite clear.

Only to Ljosira could he confide about the experience, and even that was a poorly told tale, because he simply had no true understanding of what Yggdrasil had done to him. He had felt the overwhelming presence of the world tree as she had bowed beneath Ljosira's defiance, had felt her effortlessly snatch up the many pieces of him scattering into all directions, and had submitted to her life-giving touch. Wake me up, he had told her, and she had.

A mother, her benevolent amusement washing over him, telling him no, not his time yet after all, he better get back to it now. Gently, she had plucked him from the darkness and shooed him away from eternity as though she was scolding a child for some juvenile prank. Nudging his body to heal itself. And so, it had. But not easily, and not without burning through much of his strength.

Ribcage shattered, heart and lungs shredded by Natta's last cruel swipe at him. He was much more resilient than, say, an average human. But far from being immortal. He had sojourned among dragons long enough to be cured of that delusion. After agreeing with him in that point, Yggdrasil had somehow spilled out the fabric of his soul into the vessel of flesh and bone which had been his home for many years. And Loki had been ready to begin anew.

Time had passed outside of every mortal boundary during this process. While the world tree reassembled him, she simultaneously dissembled the great billowing shadow whose essence he felt nearby, like the breath of a primordial predator down his neck. Natta. Loki had observed with a macabre fascination how Yggdrasil peeled away the dragon's soul from the rest of her and allowed those remaining pieces to disperse into the cosmos as dark energy.

Despite the black heart she'd harboured inside, Natta became a part of the magical entity which permeates all things, and even her dark wisdom, her ruthless guile, found places in that unending tapestry. Back then, Loki couldn't puzzle out his sentiments about this. Despite the stunning, sad beauty of watching a dragon 'die', it was an incomprehensible concept to him, that the tree of life should welcome one who had sought to overthrow the balance, one so obviously evil. When he pointed this oddity out to Ljosira, she looked askance at him, as if he had asked her a very silly question.

"How else would Yggdrasil learn, if not from mistakes?", was her maddeningly vague answer. Loki had dropped the issue, knowing it was futile, and instead wondered if Natta would not have preferred to merge with her beloved Dragonbane. He had killed her with the spear. It befuddled him why the weapon had not siphoned her soul. To this, Ljosira had a more precise reply.

"For two reasons. First, Anganir resides within Dragonbane. There is no space for another unless he allows it. And the second… Despite being sickeningly proud of her creation, Natta would never have ceded to that eternal confinement. She preferred to go on. I think maybe she even feared the weapon she had created, in the end."

"But Vegr…", Loki protested. She shook her head in a slightly rebuking fashion.

"My brother was greatly weakened, and in his mortal form. She siphoned him while he struggled to shift. At that moment, he was easy prey." The tone of her voice had told him she would speak no more of it. Just as well.

It took longer to recuperate from dying – or recuperate from recuperating from dying – than Loki liked to admit. As soon as Ljosira had gathered her wits somewhat, she had declared that he was much too raw to be transported back to Asgard, when Thor had brought up the issue of returning immediately. Instead, they helped him through one of the golden portals magicked up by Doctor Strange, to Stark Tower. But before that, he reclaimed Dragonbane from the torn earth where the enemy had fallen. Sensing his intent before he had even formed it, the spearhead morphed seamlessly into a double-bladed dagger, perfectly balanced. Loki secured it to his belt with numb fingers.

When they departed, nothing remained of Natta. Yet the field which had become her graveyard would forever be overshadowed by a lingering twilight, a darkness the sun would never truly manage to penetrate. Not even bones did she leave behind. The possibility that Ljosira could have met that fate instead of the Darkflight leader intruded upon Loki's mind, and suddenly he was very glad to leave the melancholy emptiness of the grass sea.

The first few hours after his return bled away from him like thin ink on waterlogged parchment. Thor more or less carried him to the chamber he'd shared with Ljosira during their brief stay on Midgard. His brother and his intended bickered over something, judging by the intermittent low rumbling and hushed singsong whispers, but Loki couldn't concentrate on the topic of their discussion. It was quiet for a time, before the high-contrast dialogue resumed. Maybe sleep claimed him then. He woke sometime later, feeble as a new-born fawn tossed out into the harsh world. Never in his life had he felt so vulnerable, shaking with weakness, exhausted beyond telling.

A man's dignity is a most fragile thing. And that rings doubly true for a man who has more pride than is good for him. Loki ridiculed himself by acting nettled while Ljosira fussed endlessly over him. He despised needing help with the simplest things, and later would curse himself for behaving like a sulky child. But back then, it was difficult not to. He had flattered himself for never accepting aid from anyone and had always bristled at the thought of how mortal he must seem to Ljosira. It served only to add kindling to his wounded pride.

She endured his churlishness stoically, which was somehow a worse reprimand than if she had reacted with anger. But she had no anger inside her. When he finally gave in to her care and opened himself to the life-bond, the blazing beacon of her relief near blinded him. He was so loved. For no reason he could conceive of. He wrapped his long fingers around her slender ones and lifted them to his lips, brushing a light kiss to her petal-smooth skin. She startled briefly, before her expression melted into one of warm fondness.

"Do you ever wonder if your life would have been easier, were you not bonded to a mortal?", he blurted the question out before he could rein in the errant thought. Loki blamed his bone-deep exhaustion for the mental slip-up. Ljosira cocked her head, that distinctly draconic gesture he knew by heart. It could express curiosity or scepticism, the distinction of which she somehow managed to convey merely through the look in her eyes. Right now, her regard was a pensive one.

"What good does it do to wonder about that? It's a convoluted, mortal thing you do, when you agonize over the past. You analyse your actions and push regret around like chess pieces on a board. Maybe it would have been easier. It would also have meant being without you, without the richness of your mind as you slowly opened it to me. I do not wish to imagine it.", she answered, her voice gentle but firm. Loki felt that he should make amends for his earlier comment, because her words made it sound as if she thought he regretted something.

"Maybe it's a habit for us, turning past events over in our heads. I have never been aware how of quickly I could… end. I'd grown arrogant in the fifteen hundred years of having walked through life unscathed. But I think inherently, we mortals know that we do not have unlimited time on this world. So, we try to make sense of it all. Rather poorly, more often than not.", he gave her an arch smile, his eyes dancing with self-irony. Ljosira mirrored his amusement.

"I like that you view yourself with a grain of humour now. You were much more solemn when we met again, and your mockery more cutting than a sharp blade." Her remark made him remember the very first time they had met, at the festival of Mjölnir's presentation so many years ago. And it made him wonder…

"I have one more question.", he began, his voice distant as he tried to recall that day in every detail.

"Just the one?", Ljosira teased whimsically. Loki had the grace to skip over that jibe.

"When we first met, at the feast, you watched me. I noticed you because you were looking at me curiously. Why?" For a fleeting moment, he was sure that she would evade. Then she broke into a wide smile, as if she had been waiting for him to ask that question for a long time.

"I was overwhelmed by my first visit to Asgard. I saw so many marvellous things, but you were a such a mystery to me! Your aura… so intricate, the most complex one I had ever seen. There was light and darkness in it, balanced somehow. I felt drawn to you, but could not explain to myself why. You looked… you looked like I felt sometimes, when my family's overprotectiveness pressed down on me. Like there should be more, more to life, more to fate… Ah, I'm rambling." She fell silent, instead tucking some wisps of starlight hair behind her ear.

"You are not. I understand you perfectly fine.", Loki corrected softly.

Long before he had regained his full strength, the dragon calls began. It was a symphony, not of sound, but of cosmic anomalies which filled the sky above Manhattan. All night the meteor showers fell, bright enough that the city's light pollution could not out-glow them. And all day the pale northern lights billowed across the great azure canopy, like silk shawls caught in a gentle wind. Reports came in of the same phenomena seen everywhere around the world, from Berlin to far-eastern Tokio. Scientists could make no sense of it. But Loki, bond-mate to a dragon, could hear the song of magic the Lightbringers were singing, urging their youngest kin to return home. And he felt the longing in her heart, a persistent tugging sensation she tried to conceal and ignore.

A few days after the spectacle had begun and he was confident enough to climb the stairs to the loft, Loki found Ljosira standing outside on the landing pad. Silently, he stepped out into the cool breeze to join her. She had been subdued ever since the meteorite showers had started and kept sighing frequently, as if her mind dwelled on something distant. It likely did. Lost in deep thought, she seemed to be gazing up into the rain of shooting stars above. But as soon as Ljosira sensed his approach, she turned to face him. A strangely wistful look lingered in her eyes.

"I love looking up into a night sky from a mortal realm." She rested her head against his shoulder. Then her tone turned worried and she gazed up at him searchingly. "Is it getting late? Are you tired?"

"No, I'm not tired at all.", Loki murmured with just a bit of impatience. Although it might have been his nervousness about the question he intended to ask her. He had planned this for a while now… His hand surreptitiously frisked his pocket. Yes, still there.

"In fact, I think it's time for something that has been long overdue."

Ljosira pulled away from him a little, her brow furrowed. Right. Now was the right moment. After all, she had demanded of him to do this on Midgard. And so, up on this tower almost piercing the sky in the city of New York, Loki lowered to one knee before Ljosira, whose eyes went wide and unbelieving like silver dinner plates. She looked stunned, almost comical. He smiled up at her dumbfounded expression, thinking that he couldn't have surprised her more if he'd stripped naked and started to dance.

"What are you doing?", she managed to say in a strange kind of voice. It sounded like a wet rag squeaking over a polished surface.

"You have taught me much, my love, but this is a thing I teach you – we are having a moment. Be still and listen." His gentle rebuke was equally tinted with humour. Ljosira made a small gaspy sound, then she continued to goggle at him. Loki took a breath to steady himself.

"I love you, Ljosira of the Lightbringers, Princess of Dragons, immortal creature who has stolen my heart. I love you selfishly, without shame or limits or even reason. I told you once that I will always have a little bit of doubt in me. But I don't doubt that this is right." Loki paused shortly, shaking off the rambling thoughts which always intruded when he made some great emotional declaration. It still did not come easily to him. Ljosira stared with her mouth open.

"I do not think I courted you as you deserved, with all the fighting and monsters and rogue dragons in the way. You deserve to be treated like a lady… No, a queen, although I am no king."

"You are to me.", she whispered breathlessly. Those simple words made it the easiest thing in the world to pull the ring from his pocket and present it into the small empty space between them. The white opal glittered like a badge of victory, catching gleams of the stellar rain above.

"Then… will you do me the honour of becoming my wife? Marry me." He looked up into her eyes. They were dewy with emotion. She nodded, not trusting her voice just then. Her hand trembled a little when she lifted it for him to slide the filigree band onto her finger. It was flawless, a perfect fit. And then Loki stood, pulling her into his arms and kissing her with all the ardour and exhilaration he felt. Or maybe those were his beloved's feelings, mingling with his own and amplifying them through the life-bond. But in any case, the night air around them became many a degree warmer.

"Better stop me or I will finish what we started…", he murmured into her ear, his voice smooth as a cat's purr. Ljosira let out a very girlish giggle.

"Not a wise idea. You never know who is watching…" She indicated the star-strewn sky above them meaningfully. Loki deliberated quite seriously if he might not take that risk. Then he gave a resigned sigh.

"Very well. So, my not-so-willing bride, what now?", he queried, throwing her a mischievous wink. He had expected to make her smile, but instead she averted her eyes, her face turning pensive and still. It alarmed him that she would seem so disheartened after the joyful moment they had just shared.

"What is it?", Loki ventured guardedly.

"It's hard to ignore the call. I have never experienced it before… It's not used often. The first day, I could choose not to hear it. But now the voices are persistent, constant. I don't want to leave you…" Her gaze dropped to her feet. Loki leaned in and brushed a tender kiss to her forehead.

"If you are called, you must go. I know you have delayed for my sake. But… you will return, soon?", he couldn't refrain from asking that question.

"Of course! My family just wishes to see me after these turbulent events… And the council will need me to testify about Natta's crimes.", Ljosira mused distractedly. Then, quite suddenly, a determined expression bloomed on her face.

"But before I go… Let us fly, my heart."

"Let us fly.", he echoed softly.

Flying on a dragon would never be an experience to get used to. Each time the wonder of it was renewed, to view everything from so far up that it looked like a pristine miniature, a tirelessly made work of art that represented the real world down to the very last detail. Loki and Ljosira spent the rest of the night cavorting through the skies in companionable silence, enjoying the rush of the wind as she gracefully rode the currents. Watching the glittering waves of the ocean as they reflected the nocturnal heavens. They could have communicated telepathically, shared entire lines of thought in mere seconds through their life-bond. But every once in a while, it felt much more natural to lay speech to rest, and just find peace within the other's ease.

At the crack of dawn, Ljosira navigated back to Stark Tower, while the city still lay in that quiet wooziness before it would need to awaken for a new and stressful day. Stark, Strange and Thor greeted them on the landing pad. The humans seemed bleary-eyed and tired, but immediately brightened at the sight of Ljosira landing on the circular platform. She let Loki dismount, bumping his back with her nose playfully. And then, after a short farewell and many well-wishes, she took off again.

She ascended on pearly wings, growing smaller and smaller, a circling white bird contrasted against the lightening horizon. She proclaimed a long, drawn-out note that sounded like a bittersweet melody. Then the draconic Bifröst erupted around her, painting a streak of rainbow into the sky. Loki watched her disappear from his sight, soaring on the bridge of magic which would carry her to Yggdrasil. But no matter how far away she flew, his heart flew with her, unwilling to part ever again.

Three restless and distracted days passed for Loki after that. He returned to Asgard together with Thor shortly after Ljosira had left. This time, their homeland had been spared the destruction by Natta, except the damage done to the great plaza in front of the palace, which the stonemasons and goldsmiths had mended vigorously and in great haste. The entire city buzzed with gossip about the recent events, and Loki could not take two steps from his quarter doors without being accosted by eager guards or awe-struck citizens who begged him to tell the story of how he killed the ancient dragon of shadow.

Overnight, he became a hero. His tale was on everyone's lips, and praise showered him like it had never before. For so many years he had hungered for recognition and glory, in vain. Now that the day had finally come for cheers and accolades, he felt oddly outside of himself. As if he had been lifted from his body and walked beside it as a stranger who had no true influence over the happenings. It was an uncomfortable experience, and at the same time a well-concealed, ambitious part of him accepted the acknowledgement gravely, basking in it like a lion in sunlight.

But he missed Ljosira. Painfully so. Without her, all of this meant nothing, and every handshake, every word of gratitude and acclaim had a hollow ring to it. He had no heart to be celebrated if she could not share it with her, especially since she had been just as instrumental to win this victory as he had, even more so. He felt as if he took credit for her tireless work, and that notion left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Worse, the life-bond had gone silent since she had left, and he loathed that silence. Robbed of a sense which had become as vital as seeing or hearing, he felt deadened, blundering on like a man blindfolded. So, on the day where the feast would be held to honour his heroic deeds, he secluded himself inside his chambers with the intention to brood silently.

Ljosira had accepted his proposal. She would return to him, she had promised. But when? Dragons did not count years as mortals did. Maybe it would be decades before he saw her again. No. She'd be back, soon. Loki sighed away the weight of the world, pulling his shoulders straight. He'd never been good at waiting.

"You might soon pace the rugs threadbare, Loki." He turned to see Thor stride into the chamber, dressed in formal attire with a thin golden band circling his brow to mark him as crown prince. His blonde mane was pulled into a tidy warrior's tail at the back of his head. Before Loki could think of a good retort, a sudden shout went up from the gardens and streets below. The collective surprise was followed by an earth-shaking trumpeting of welcome – a dragon roar. For a split second, Loki thought it was Ljosira, but then someone in the corridors shouted:

"Elding comes! The Dragon King comes to Asgard!"

And yes, the giant shape of him appeared above then. The largest of his kind, his wingspan so wide he overshadowed a whole district as he glided on the wind with a grace one could never have expected from a creature of his size. He bugled again, his deep voice echoing the generous nature of his visit. Loki and Thor were already on their way. They hurried down the manifold stairs to the palace entrance, not without being jostled by dozens of guards who were frantic to get a glimpse of the spectacle.

Countless people had poured out of their homes, their voices lifting to an erratic concert of greetings. It was a unique event. Since the dark days, the dragon king had not visited in his true form, and had dictated that only dragons in their mortal bodies were allowed to come to the deeply magical Aesir homeland.

Stunned and marvelling, the people of Asgard watched the greatest guardian of Yggdrasil land in the wide plaza, where only a few days before his daughter had faced down Natta, the mistress of shadows. This circular square could hold five hundred armed men standing comfortably spaced. The dragon filled out most of it on his own. Spectators were crowded back into the mouths of the streets, craning their necks and bumping each other in their enthusiasm to watch.

Thor and Loki were joined by Odin as they stepped forth to greet Elding. Heimdall stood a little apart, a knowing smile on his lips. The dragon king shook out his wings as if making sure each scale was in its right place, and mindfully avoided toppling buildings in the process. His aura would have brought every man in the plaza to his knees, had he not taken great care to temper it. Still, walking into his proximity was like approaching an exploding star.

"Asgard, beautiful Asgard! Long has it been since we met, and how my heart soars to see you well!" His voice boomed in unison with his spirited roar. The projection of his thoughts was a battering ram to the senses. Loki saw several people bow beneath its force. Elding's long neck twisted lazily, his powerful tail coiling in obvious enjoyment. He seemed pleased when his all-penetrating gaze found the royal family gathered below. Loki had endured his scrutiny once, but it had been tame compared to the gold and silver whirlpool which the king turned on him now. The undivided attention of Yggdrasil's eyes was upon him. There seemed to be no air to breathe.

"My gratitude I come to express on this day. Know this: A snake had been plotting in our very midst. The night mother Natta betrayed her kind to follow her evil ambitions, and you paid dearly for it. She lured me from my watch to seek my firstborn, while she readied to deliver a mortal strike to Asgard. Dragon Queen she wished to be, after using my children's souls to destroy me!" His words burned with a terrifying anger for the Darkflight's insolence, but again he bridled the blast-wave of his fury before it became overwhelming.

"Yet she was thwarted by those who defended our cause! My daughter – my youngest – put an end to Natta's insidious plans. And she was aided by one of yours, Asgard. Let there never again be doubt for his loyalty, and let him be lauded as a hero, a friend and champion to dragonkind!", the king thundered, and his cry was joined by all who had gathered in the plaza. He radiated a glamour that possibly entranced people for miles around. Loki thought his heart might jump out of his chest. When the jubilant cheers died down, Elding bent his head closer.

"Step forth, Loki Odinson.", he said, almost quietly, while Loki wished his legs would not feel like two useless columns of jelly. He hardly dared to breathe. Neither did any of the spectators.

"Do me the honour, my friend, to accept my deepest thanks. Not just for giving your life to protect Yggdrasil, but for guarding my heart of hearts in this strife-filled time. You have succeeded where I have failed." Elding's voice was calm, and yet tinted with a deep regret. The gift of speech abandoned Loki like a child dropping its toy. He fumbled for words in the face of this enormous creature's gratitude.

"Your Majesty –" Instinctively, he began dropping to his knees. The dragon king interrupted him before he could.

"No, I will have none of that. Stand tall, son. My kin and I will never forget what you have done. They name you Drekhjarten. Dragonheart. And that, you are. Ah! Would that I had foreseen this fate in you, but my youngest saw truer than me. I stand corrected." He made an amused sound, a low rumble. It sounded like laughter. Then the giant head on his dawn-hued neck tilted inquisitively. "Which boon would you ask of me? You deserve whatever I can grant you." Loki managed to inhale one shuddering breath. There was only one thing he wanted.

"I ask… for your daughter's hand. In marriage." From which source he drew the courage to meet Elding's eyes, he would later not fathom. But he did. "Your Majesty.", he added a little too late, realizing his courtesy had faltered. When the king did not answer for some time, Loki feared he had asked for too much, too great a request. But Elding regarded him with something that could have been a smile.

"Bold move. You aim high, I'll give you that. But as far as I know, you have already won her approval. Why ask mine, if you could have asked for exceptional magic, or riches beyond measure?", he wondered. Loki had the strange feeling that he was covertly being tested. His voice gained certainty.

"I like to think I do well enough with sorcery, and this land has more riches than I can spend. And also… I know that your blessing would mean much to her, and to me." A look of unveiled pride flashed across the dragon's gold-and-silver eyes, then he suddenly threw back his head and trumpeted out a booming laugh.

"He'll do, little one. He'll do." One of his immense wing unfurled swiftly like a curtain being drawn, revealing a beaming Ljosira who started running without delay. She practically flung herself into Loki's arms and he caught her easily, spinning her around and around until they both were dizzy. Behind them, Thor let out a thundering cheer which was almost drowned out by the exultant crowd joining in. Loki set Ljosira down, kissing her laughing lips with no shame about the people – and her father – watching them.

"Mortals.", Elding said fondly, unperturbed. "It seems I shall have to visit Asgard more often from now on. Should be a nice change." An arm still wrapped around Ljosira, Loki turned to the dragon king as he shook out his wings, readying himself to take flight again.

"Your Majesty…" As he spoke, he pulled Dragonbane from his belt. The weapon morphed seamlessly from dagger to spear. He held it out to Elding. "I thought you might want to take this into your custody." The dragon huffed out a sceptical breath.

"And what would I do with that thing? Pick my teeth?", he hazarded, almost indignantly. "Besides, it wants to stay with you. It would never answer to me, of all people. Wilful and fractious, Anganir always was. You keep it, and keep it well. You'll need it, have no doubt. My youngest has had a talent for trouble since the day she hatched.", this he emphasized with a thorough look at Ljosira.

"Father!", she protested heatedly, but the dragon king was already engulfed by the draconic Bifröst. He rose into the rainbow current with one powerful beat of his wings, and then he was gone, leaving behind only a hint of genuine amusement, like an elusive scent on the wind. Loki and Ljosira were still staring after him when Thor pushed between them unceremoniously, his arms coming around both their shoulders.

"It seems we have a wedding to plan! And we better do it soon. Within the week!", the thunder prince announced in a grand voice.

"Why so hasty, brother?", Loki wondered with a frown. Thor turned a bit grave at his question.

"I have to leave for Midgard soon. The staff you wielded back during the attack on New York. The thing is an Infinity Stone. I want to find it and keep it safe." Ljosira nodded solemnly, while Loki turned pensive.

"Do you need help? Should I come with you?", he offered with some reluctance, but Thor shook his head.

"You'll be a married man soon, with a wife to protect. And I need you here on Asgard, to guard what is dear to us, brother." That baffled Loki into silence. His brother's gaze swerved to Ljosira.

"And you will keep an eye on him, little ancient one? So he doesn't do anything stupid while I'm gone?", he threw her a wink. She graciously ignored the silly title he had grown so fond of giving her.

"Both eyes, my friend. From now until I close them forever." Loki made a gruff noise of disgruntlement.

"You two take pride in handling me, don't you?"

But in truth, it did not bother him one bit. He needed only to close his eyes, and he would see it: The winding, twisting path he had walked, a road of dark cobblestones merging into a black-and-silver mosaic. Many names he had been called, many masks had he worn. From each he parted now, gladly, and maybe just a bit wistfully.

A golden time awaited him ahead. He felt neither fear nor doubt, only anticipation. After all, he would not pursue this future on his own. That certainty, that simple truth made Loki smile, and he caught Ljosira smiling back at him, as if she knew the exact direction of his thoughts. She probably did.