A/N: Sorry for taking so long! The holidays are crazy.

On the upside, I just suffered through an office party and it inspired a brief one-shot involving Loki and Drone Three a few years after this story ends. I'm going to post it today, as a happyholidays/sorryimwritingsoslow present. It will be a separate story, and I'll call it Auld Lang Syne.

Loki decided on a shower; he now stank of fear-sweat and the Drones had warned him against trying to clean up by magic. He went behind the new wall Door Drone had built him and turned the water on.

"Would you prefer us to leave?" Three called.

"No." The last time they left he had been terrified. Though of course he wouldn't admit that. In fact, he decided he had better say something else before it became apparent; he had sounded a little panicked just now. "Stay if you like," he called back as he undressed. "It would be a little silly to worry about modesty in front of you people at this point, wouldn't it."

He refused to consider the absurdity of yelling this over a barrier he had demanded for modesty's sake.

"Toss your clothes out; I'll have them washed. It's quick."

He did, and when a buzzing noise started up he peeked around to discover that Door Drone was operating a sort of nozzle from the wall that seemed to be jetting the leather with something invisible.

"What is that?" he said a few minutes later, back in the water. As long as someone was talking, he knew he hadn't been left in this place by himself.

But there was no answer.

"Hello?" He stuck his head out at once, heart in his throat... but he wasn't alone. Door Drone was still working on his pants. "Where's-... your friend?"

"He was called away. A message. He will return."

"Oh." Loki went back to his shower. Eventually the sound of Door Drone's washer ceased, and he heroically resisted the urge to look around the wall to make sure he hadn't gone anywhere.

...At least, he resisted the urge until he heard the hiss of the room doors opening. Then he gasped and practically threw himself into the room, flinging water everywhere.

But Door Drone wasn't abandoning him; instead, the door had opened because Drone Three had returned. "King's here," he said casually. "They tell me he's in the waiting room." His eyes flickered up. "You still have suds in your hair."

"Mm." Loki went back to rinsing. An arrival this fast meant that Thor hadn't even taken the time to verify his words; he had believed him, at once, and immediately rushed to undo the terrible injustice he had perpetrated. Which meant heknew he was wrong. Which meant he was wrong (Loki hadn't been entirely sure), and it was awful to have ordered him here, and Thor would be apologizing long into next century. "The king can wait," he called, nose in the air.

"Well, in the event Your Highness at some point sees fit to emerge, here is a towel." One was tossed atop the barrier and Loki grinned up at it.

"Thanks."

When he came out he put on his newly cleaned and pressed clothes, tossed his things back into his bag and looked around. Feeling, for a second, oddly reluctant. "Well. I suppose it's time?"

"Yes. We'll take you upstairs."

The walk upstairs was a positive pleasure: he led the way, head high, through hallways which no longer seemed half so intimidating. No one was going to lay a hand on him – and if they did, he would take it with calm and dignity and he would be fine. More, he was a Prince of Asgard, trusted and beloved, who had the king's ear and was in such high demand that rulers would fight over him and entire realms would go to war. He let his boot heels clack against the floor with authority. He would walk where he pleased.

Drone Three passed a hand over the final door and it hissed open. Loki brushed past him, not caring – even the stupid hiss of the doors didn't bother him any more.

His confidence lasted until he looked around the room and discovered that the king who had come for him was not Thor, but Odin.

"Father." It was out before Loki could stop himself. He winced. Stood straight, searched for a sarcastic half-smile. "You're looking… rested."

"There's no time for play, Loki." Odin did not, in fact, look rested. He had slept for months and yet was tense, almost harried. "Come with me – we're going home."

Loki edged away until he felt the Drones at his back. "What's the matter?" he said. Not thinking. Not allowing anything to be the matter.

"What do you think?" Odin said shortly. "Thor is a fool."

"Oh, is he?" Loki sniffed. "That's news to me. What did he do?"

Odin stopped beckoning impatiently just long enough to explain: "He's in Jotunheim." His gaze was hard. "The Jotuns sent someone into Asgard to fetch him. How did they manage that, I wonder?"

There was no wondering about it; the eye burned and Loki did his best not to squirm under it. It would be better to just take responsibility now, before Odin got any angrier. "Me," he said firmly. "I visited Jotunheim a number of times over the past few months. With Thor's approval – even one time with Thor." He shrugged. "I must have worn a path; I'm sorry. It would be small, though – I haven't opened the realm to enemy armies or whatever you're thinking." Odin didn't soften, so he went on. "Look, if a frost-giant comes and starts sneaking around the castle without being spotted, well, that means some guards are not doing their jobs. Not to mention our Guardian, who is supposed to be on the lookout for that sort of thing."

Odin was silent a moment. At last he admitted: "There was no sneaking. The giant stepped into the hall openly, made your brother a bow, and asked him to come to Jotunheim for a discussion with the king. When he gave a promise of safety, Thor agreed."

Loki swallowed. "Helblindi will- Their king will honor that promise."

"Oh?" Odin snorted. "What makes you think that? Is it because you like him?" Loki had no answer. "Then, this is a lesson you need to learn the sooner the better:" He drew himself up. "That you like someone – love him, even – is no guarantee that he will deal honorably with you. For instance." He made a sweeping gesture in Loki's direction.

Loki felt a shift behind him and remembered that they were not alone. A Drone had... what? Crossed his arms, perhaps? He realized that although he was hemmed in by the creatures he did not feel intimidated; rather, just now the escort felt almost protective. In their midst he felt able to push a little further.

"Thank you for that, Father." He set his bag down on the floor. "You're making it seem so unbearably attractive to come home." Odin was glaring but that only incited him more. "In fact, I'm beginning to feel I don't deserve the honor. Perhaps I'll just stay here until Thor comes for me after all."

"Attractive or not, honor or not, Thor or not: you will do as I tell you. We are leaving, Loki. Now."

After what Drone Three had done to him earlier, Loki couldn't quite muster up a feeling of terror over just a few sharp looks. Instead he stalled a little longer, just to rile. "You woke up for this? Did you really think Thor can't handle it? Though I suppose it make sense after all; without me there's nobody to ensure his head is on straight and of course we wouldn't want to let him get hurt or make any mistakes. So of course you woke up to watch over him. Who could blame-"

"Loki!" Odin barked. "Heimdall woke me at your request!"

Loki blinked. "What?"

"You wanted to be fetched away. You wanted the king!" Now it was almost a bellow. "Well, the king has come to fetch you. And so help me you'll come along without one more word of opposition. Is that clear, boy?"

Loki hadn't been yelled at this way in years. Frigga had tried to explain it once, petting his hair, pretending not to notice as he wiped tears on her shoulder. Your father only shouted like that because he was frightened, Loki. You two could have been hurt, and he couldn't bear that – you're too important to him.

He had since come to understand that she was right: behaving like an enraged bear was the way Odin showed he cared. But why was he doing it now – what could have frightened him? There was nothing to be frightened about. Everything was going to be fine. Thor had said so.

Loki looked around uncertainly, half-hoping that the Drones would politely show Odin the door; he wasn't a signatory on this contract anyway…

But Drone Three murmured from beside him: "Better go, Loki."

"Thank you, but I know how to handle my own father," Loki hissed back, without taking his eyes from Odin's face. He wanted, suddenly, to ask about the eyepatch. Was it true that a little Jotun boy…?

But now was not the time. "Fine," he spat. "Fine, I'll come. But I don't see what the problem is – the Jotuns like Thor. This is one peace he'll be able to negotiate without-"

"I will negotiate a peace, by giving them what they really want." Odin gestured impatiently. "Come."

What they really want? Loki swallowed and stepped away again, bumping into a Drone with his shoulder. He tried for a bitter smile, but his lips only twitched briefly. "Do they want me as a prince or as a war criminal?"

"What?"

"I think it's only fair to tell me what you're delivering me to. A long miserable life holding court in a frozen wasteland, or a quick execution that I more than deserve? I think I'd prefer the latter, honestly. At least it would be-"

"Silence!" And, roaring again. "Would you put aside your stupid, petty, childish hurts and think! For one moment." He shook his head, disgusted. "If I meant to trade your life for peace I would have done it the instant you used our Bifrost." His voice softened – he was probably just tired. "I grow weary of explaining this to you, Loki: you are my son, and beloved as such. You are not a bargaining chip."

Loki surveyed his feelings and found nothing but plain suspicion. "I don't understand," he said at last. "You're not going to hand me over?"

"I am not," Odin said shortly, and beckoned with authority. Confusion – and a tug of magic, which he heavily resented – weakened his resolve to be difficult, and Loki allowed himself to be led through the portal.

Safe in Asgard, in private, Odin finished his thought. "I will not hand you over," he said. "I am going to give them the Casket of Ancient Winters instead."

Loki blinked. "You want me to… give them the Casket? The thing that will power their armies to victory?"

"The thing that would power their armies to victory," Odin said, with a sly little smile. "If you and I did not enchant it first."

Loki had read all about these binding spells but never actually tried them. It took far longer than it should have, and still he did not get it right, until eventually Odin sat beside him and guided his hands through the motions. He allowed it, but as soon as he could he shook free. "I see, I see. Let me try it myself."

The next attempt was closer; it was actually a binding... but it was too weak. It tore like paper. Then, he corrected for that, but corrected too far so that he ended up with a visceral physically sticky mess that clung to Odin's fingers and glued them to the table. He lifted the spell with a great deal of irritation at himself. "Ah-. Sorry."

Odin chuckled. "I have missed you as a student, Loki. Your talent has always-"

"No."

Odin blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"I have no objection to civility but let's not pretend to any more than that." Loki wanted to sound matter-of-fact but he could hear the bitterness in his own voice. "With all due respect..." It makes me ill to be this close to you. But he couldn't get out the words. All he could do was shake his head and say again: "No."

Odin sat back. "As you wish," he said stiffly. Offended. Wasn't that rich.

Loki pressed on with the task at hand. "How do you want to do it?"

"I will lend my power to the spell, but I want you to cast the binding yourself. You have an... affinity for that article. Afterwards I'll mask what we have done."

"Mm." Loki stroked the Casket. "I do hate to give it up."

Odin shook his head with a sigh. "It's possible it will return to your care before long," he said. "If the giants do anythingwith it that concerns me..."

He cracked my skull and took my brother anyway.

But he swallowed that down and went back to learning to bind.

When he was ready they sat across a table from one another, the Casket glowing between them. Loki put his hands on it, unconsciously adjusting for the cold – and then straining to keep his own form while he did it. Odin set hands on top of his and they were so warm they hurt.

He took a deep breath. "If either of us makes a mistake with this spell they'll see what we've done, and they'll kill Thor."

"Yes." Odin sounded unconcerned.

Out of nowhere the image came to him of Thor in Jotunheim, in the wrestling ring. Only now it was so much more sinister, the mass of hard blue bodies surrounding the field, ready to jump in and-... "Father, they'll kill him."

"I am not going to make a mistake, Loki." He sounded exasperated. "Are you?"

He shook his head. But the hot-and-cold was distracting, his hands hurt; the Aesir body was not meant to bear temperatures like these.

Abruptly he pulled away. "I don't want to trifle with this," he said. "If I'm touching the Casket I had best do it in my Jotun form – in my real form. You can avert your eyes if you want."

"I have never averted my eyes from your Jotun form, Loki." Almost reproachful. "I respect them. I cherished you."

Loki had already started shifting, and the snarl came easier once his face was hard and unfamiliar. But all he said was: "There. Let's try it again."

He set his hands on the Casket and let Odin cover them. Steam rose and it hurt, but Loki only glared and Would. Not. Wince.

Odin matched his look. Was it just as uncomfortable for him? Loki hoped so.

Power flooded into him unexpectedly and he began working the spell, crafting it carefully, using Odin's fantastic power to bind his lovely toy. It was a tight binding meant to withstand all manner of magical attack. It was well done, and he got it on the first try.

(His brilliant success made Odin look uneasy for a moment. He liked that.)

Afterwards Odin set concealing spells over the binding, fading Loki's work into complete invisibility. They set the Casket in the ether.

"And now we prepare to leave," the Allfather declared. "Go and inform Heimdall of our plans. I will bid farewell to your mother."

"Can we trade? I would much rather see Mother than-"

"Go, Loki."

"Heimdall." Loki's voice echoed through the observatory and only then did he realize he had neglected to change his form back. Well, he would have to hope that Heimdall recognized him anyway. "Odin and I are going after Thor. Have you seen him – can you show me?"

"No, my prince. The Jotun sorcerers are shielding him from my sight."

"Priests," Loki corrected absently. "It's their priests who shield."

"Priests, then. I have not seen Thor since his departure. I sense that he lives – the priests allow me that much. But I cannot see him."

Loki nodded. "Pay attention after we leave; if they're negotiating in earnest with us I'll demand that the shielding stop. If not – if things go poorly – the visit will be brief and bloody and we'll return soon."

"I know."

"You know?"

"The Allfather said the same thing to Lady Frigga a few moments ago."

And he was spying on them why? Ah: to verify the truth of Loki's instructions. Suddenly Loki was intensely annoyed. "I want to thank you," he said, and had never sounded less grateful in his life, "For reading my message from the dungeon and acting on it so swiftly." He came closer, into the light, slow and predatory… and was a little disappointed that he got no reaction at all. Heimdall was… Heimdall. "I didn't know you had the power to wake Odin whenever you feel like it."

"I can call to him in a way that others cannot. Sometimes he listens. But of course I cannot wake him without his cooperation."

"Mm. Why did you do it now?"

"To obey you. You asked for the king."

"You knew that I meant Thor," Loki snapped.

But Heimdall gave no ground. "Forgive me, my prince. Thor was occupied."

His only answer was a deep Jotun growl. He came closer again, very close, and finally at least forced Heimdall to tilt his head back for eye contact. "We have no time for games, Guardian. I demand honesty. Why?"

Heimdall did not hesitate. "Because I feared that Thor is too trusting where you are concerned," he explained. "In these dangerous times – for the good of the realm – I would not see you running unchecked."

Loki had expected as much, and heaved a deep wounded sigh. "Will you ever come to truly trust me?"

"I hope not, my prince." Heimdall inclined his head, almost a bow. "Asgard needs you as you are."

TBC.

I'm not too mad at Heimdall for all this. It's his *job* to be cautious and suspicious, and he often sees Loki being shady - and often sees that Loki is hiding from his view. At least he didn't just ignore the message and leave him to rot.