A/N: One chapter left after this! I'm so excited :)
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The banquet that night was the grandest ever laid out: huge, succulent roast meats, enormous wheels of cheese, platters piled high with fruit, tureens of soup, and plenty of fine mead and ale. The aroma of fresh baked bread mingled with the savory scent of herbs and spices. In addition to the traditional Asgardian dishes, the table was laid with Ixchelian delicacies, and- by virtue of Natasha's secret afternoon trip back to Midgard- a golden dish of perfectly buttered mashed potatoes sat before Loki.
"You," Loki said to her, as he swallowed a spoonful, "are a true hero."
She laughed.
"Of all the things on Earth." Tony shook his head. "Filet mignon, caviar, lobster, Swiss chocolate... and you choose mashed potatoes."
"We do not have this dish on Asgard," Loki replied. "To me, it is a delicacy."
He shook his head, laughing.
"So," Natasha began casually, looking across the table at Abigail. "I'm very interested to hear how you made it. When I saw you, you were covered with a sheet and assumed dead."
"Some of us," she replied coolly, "are hardier than others."
Natasha bristled, but didn't want to start a knock-down drag-out fight at Thor and Loki's coronation banquet, so she just stayed silent.
But Abigail pressed on. "You had that cute little super soldier process, didn't you? When you were little?"
She shot a glare at Clint.
"It's not a secret," Abigail told her. "He didn't tell me. But I, like you, have been a soldier for a long time. It's just that the scientists I worked with had advanced ideas. What burns in me is a bit more... extreme." With a cryptic smirk, she returned to her meal.
While Natasha processed this information, Loki, sensing her agitation, laid a hand on her arm. "Tonight is not for her," he whispered, and she smiled. Around her ring finger was a hammered silver ring, made by the royal smiths of Asgard, set with a single blue stone and etched with runes.
"I have to say, Thor," Bruce said, "this meal is a lot better than the grand feast we got after our last fight."
Tony laughed. "I was curious about the shawarma, all right? Never heard of it. Had to try it."
Steve shrugged. "I didn't think it was that bad."
Surprised, Tony turned to give him a smile. "See? I knew from the beginning we were going to get along."
He laughed. "I am a little more of a meat-and-potatoes guy, though." He pointed his fork at the scoop of mashed vegetables on his plate. "Though this isn't half bad."
"So," Volstagg began, mouth half-full of game. "Tell us, Loki. How did you kill the being Odin could not?"
"Yes, brother." Thor leaned back. "This story shall become a legend across the universe."
The table grew quiet, and all eyes turned to Loki. The royal scribe, Yrsa, sat patiently with a quill and parchment, ready to take down Loki's story. Later, Loki knew, she would return to her study and make a beautifully illustrated manuscript, putting the story into poetry: another chapter in the sagas. Well, Father, he thought, I have done something worthy of remembrance after all.
So he told the story from the beginning; how he had plotted to use Thanos' desire for the Infinity Gauntlet to lure Thanos to the vault from the very beginning; how Thor helped him remove the valuables from the vault and replace them with fake treasures, so there was no chance of Thanos getting anything which would give him any power; how he had led him to the vault; how an invisible Thor had locked them inside; and how he had sealed himself in ice while he let Thanos burn. Everyone at the table hung on his every word; after centuries, he was finally receiving the recognition he had sought so hungrily. But as he spoke, he realized he cared little about the spotlight. All that mattered to him was that the cosmos- and all those around him- were safe.
"Why did you not send in a duplicate?" Fandral wanted to know. "And not risk your life? That trick has served you well over the years."
"Thanos would not have been fooled by my parlor trick," explained Loki. "And I needed to be inside that room to start the fire."
"You could have died," Frigga whispered.
Loki nodded.
"You impress me, Loki of Asgard," Touhal told him. "From the day you came to Ixchel to free my cousin from the dungeons, you and your brother have shown yourself to be not only brave and just, but also true friends of our world." He took Sif's hand, exchanging a smile with his empress. "As my uncle and your father pledged their alliance to one another, Sif and I hope that our worlds will continue our great partnership."
"I believe it will only strengthen as the years pass," Loki replied.
"And our alliance?" Maria turned to the brothers.
Thor and Loki nodded in unison. "We have become kings," Thor said, "but we have not ceased to be Avengers. Our alliance with Midgard shall continue."
They ate, and drank, and talked, and laughed. For a moment, Loki fell silent, listening to the conversations around him; Sif and Natasha, extolling each other's virtues as warriors to Touhal, Hogun, and Coulson; Fandral, telling Yvelina about the history of Asgard; Frigga, discussing Loki's artistic talents with Steve; Jane, Selvig, Tony, and Bruce, deep in conversation about an array of scientific things that Loki didn't quite understand; Pepper and Abigail, venting about the stress of a leadership role, while Maria listened in; Clint, Thor, Rhodey, and Volstagg, comparing notes on weaponry and war tactics.
Amid the noise of these motley conversations, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. This is my family, he thought. Everyone at this table. This is my family.
The touch of his mother's hand on his arm shook him from his reverie. "Son. Are you ready?"
Looking around, Loki noticed that the desserts had been finished and the servants were clearing the table. "Natasha?"
"She would be a good leader for Ixchel's armies," Natasha was saying to Touhal. "I haven't known her long, but she doesn't seem like she'd be the kind of woman to sit idly on a throne, either." Smiling, she turned to Loki. "Yes?"
Frigga repeated her question. "Are you ready?"
Natasha took Loki's hand. "Absolutely."
Frigga rose. "If I can now ask our guests to please move to the terrace. Bring your goblets of mead; we have another occasion to celebrate tonight."
Sif led the company out of the room, being familiar with the palace. As everyone took their seats, Frigga, Loki, Clint, and Natasha gathered in the atrium.
"Both of my boys," Frigga said, folding her son into a tight hug. "I am so happy for you, Loki."
While Frigga fussed over Loki, Clint stood quietly next to Natasha.
Natasha finally decided to address the elephant in the room. "You and Abigail." Her voice was level; it wasn't so much a question as a statement.
Clint shrugged. "Red in my ledger."
She nodded her understanding. "I'm not going to warn you."
"I appreciate that."
"Thanks for doing this," she said. "You're the closest to family that I've got."
He glanced at Loki, whose face was radiant, and smiled. He was surprised how much he'd grown to trust and respect the man; enough to be happy that Natasha had decided to stay with him for life. "Not anymore."
"You're right," she whispered, a smile brightening her face. "Not anymore."
Then he turned to Frigga. "Are we ready?"
Frigga nodded, and Loki reached out to Natasha, clasping her hand for a moment before they processed outside.
Loki and his mother led the procession. The moment he stepped outside, he was struck by the beauty of the night. Candles, suspended in glass bowls from the branches of trees, lit the terrace. Behind the fountain, a svaneblomst tree rose high into the air, its fragile white flowers fragrant and delicate. Two rows of chairs lined the stone platform, filled with their friends; at the fountain stood Thor and Jane, waiting to greet them, at once solemn and smiling.
Frigga curtsied. "Your Majesties. I present to you Loki Odinson, King of Asgard."
Loki inclined his head slightly, and Frigga took her seat of honor in the front row.
Clint cleared his throat. "Your Majesties. I present to you Natasha Romanoff of Midgard."
Natasha took her ceremonial bow and mouthed a "thank you" to Clint as he sat down, his job done.
"We have had too many grand speeches today," Thor began, and everyone laughed. "So I will be brief. We have just fought a terrible war, and there is nothing like love to remind us why we fight. Those of you who are native to this realm know we usually hold this ceremony in the Great Hall, but my brother has requested to be outside, beneath a svaneblomst, for reasons I can only assume are special to the couple." He smiled at them. "Loki and Natasha. I wish you nothing but happiness. Natasha, I have not known you for very long; but I can tell you that I have never seen my brother happier than after he found you. It is my great hope that your life together will be one of peace."
"It is the truth," Loki whispered to Natasha, and she smiled.
"Friends," Thor announced, "I give to you my brother, Loki, and his future queen, Natasha, in their forgylt dans."
Yvelina, in her dress of spun silk, sat demurely in a chair and removed her cello from its case as Thor sat down and Natasha and Loki took their places.
"Are you ready for this?" Loki whispered.
Natasha grinned. "I could care less if I fell flat on my face," she told him, slipping her fingers into his. "You and I? We're all that matters."
The music, rich and stark and clear, rose over the songs of the night insects, threading into the salty air.
They bowed to one another, one smooth rødspette with two bodies, and Natasha noticed that Loki was shaking ever so slightly.
"Are you nervous?" she whispered.
"A little."
She pulled him closer. "Don't be. Move with me."
They rose from the rødspette into an unnslippe, feet leaving the ground for the first time. Fingers clasped together, they leapt into their first porsjon glede, and Loki saw Natasha's face; she was grinning, grinning, her expression full of such joy that it was contagious. His next unnslippe was smooth, matching her fluidity, and she squeezed his hand in reassurance. It's an Asgardian dance, and she's teaching me, he thought, laughing inside at the irony, but knowing that this was the way it would be from then on; it was Natasha who helped to lead him out of the dark, and it would be Natasha who would take his hand and support him for the rest of his life. As he realized this, he felt lighter on his feet, heady with rapture, wanting to laugh out loud at the simple joy of having found the wonderful woman with whom he danced, at the joy of knowing that they would never leave each other.
And then they were soaring, unnslippe to porsjon glede after porsjon glede, feet so light that they danced on air, movements so smooth and seamless that they seemed to almost melt into one solitary dancer, leaping and bowing and turning with such grace that they seemed to exist on some other plane. The sky above them spun with dazzling color, the twinkle of a sapphire planet, a dust of silver stars, a cairn of cosmic jewels in an array of hues. Natasha felt as though she was inhabiting happiness.
And when the music stopped, Loki and Natasha could hear the applause, but it barely registered. The world spun around them; all that was steady, all that was constant, all that mattered were their eyes, her green ones to his blue ones, and the nameless feeling he could never articulate.
As she kissed him, the word which described it finally popped into his mind. Home.
After the forgylt dans was complete, Thor and Jane approached the couple, Jane carrying a new circlet identical to the one she wore, bearing the royal sigil of Asgard flanked by gems. She handed it to Loki, who carefully removed the circlet of plain gold that Natasha wore and replaced it with the new one.
"It is our honor," Jane said, "to present Loki and Natasha, King and Queen of Asgard."
"Natasha of Asgard," Loki whispered, still facing her, hands laying gently on her bare shoulders. "My queen. Welcome home."
He barely had time to kiss her before Frigga swept in to enfold her new daughter-in-law in a hug, bringing her over to a group of friends. As she introduced Natasha to the lords and ladies of Asgard, Loki stood beside Thor.
"Congratulations, brother." Thor offered him a goblet of mead. "I am happy for you."
He took it. "Thank you."
"Something on your mind?"
"Yes, actually. I was thinking... I would like to borrow the Infinity Gauntlet."
"To use it?"
"Yes."
He set a hand on Loki's shoulder and smiled. "The artifacts in that vault are as much yours as they are mine, Loki. You are a king; it is your decision to make."
