New Asgard, way back when

"It doesn't have to be anything fancy, Loki."

Loki only stared at him, his expression a mix of horror and indignation, most likely at Stephen's daring suggestion that he should wear something, anything less than fancy -

"Don't you Asgardians exchange wedding bands, a token, something?

"No, we exchange vows," Loki explained slowly as one would to a child. "Sometimes we drink each other's blood, but that's more for those with extremist tastes –"

"What?" Stephen gaped.

"It is quite romantic actually. It ensures absolute monogamy and fidelity, for if one were to stray, both will be literally cooked from the inside, as their blood would boil in their veins so hot it could forge iron into steel." Loki shrugged. "Or so they say. So far, no one has ever been tempted to test the theory."

"Oh my God."

"This is serious, Strange. This is not some Midgardian quickie marriage that can be easily annulled."

Loki wrung his fingers nervously. "That vow you made in front of Thor is no joke." A beat, "He will have your head."

Loki looked worried for him, and Stephen knew not whether to feel flattered or insulted. But furious? Definitely.

Why Loki's selective hearing seemed to tune out every 'I love you' that had ever come out of Stephen's mouth had to be the biggest question in the universe.

"I will never be unfaithful to you."

No matter. It was not as though Stephen would ever get tired of saying it anyway.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I looked into every future of us and there is none, none, in which I am unfaithful to you."

Loki stared deep into his eyes.

"Because I love you," he said simply.

Loki grabbed the sides of Stephen's face, and soon he was kissing him so hungrily and desperately, it left Stephen's ears ringing –

"So Loki –" Stephen said breathlessly, in between kisses, "About the wedding bands –"

"Urgh, you're still harping on that." Loki rolled his eyes and Stephen immediately regretted bringing it up, for it seemed to have cost him quite a number of kisses Loki was now refusing to give.

"If you recall, it was one of the very first things I told you about me." Stephen grabbed Loki's wrist as he made to move away, "That I am a traditionalist."

"I haven't worn one in over a thousand years," Loki said softly.

Stephen narrowed his eyes at the thousand-mile gaze in Loki's eyes.

Then as suddenly as he had drifted, Loki snapped out of it. "Stephen. I don't need trinkets. I don't need rings."

Loki poured himself into Stephen's lap, the touch of his hand as light as a feather on Stephen's chest. "Not when you have pledged me this."

Stephen gasped when his heart galloped and skipped a beat at the sudden influx of seidr; the rush of blood to his head was intoxicating and it would have drowned out Loki's words, had they not also echoed in his mind.

"The most binding vow of all."

Loki leaned down to kiss him softly. "Your heart."

Stephen closed his eyes, savouring the sweet taste of Loki's lips and he groaned, almost whining. "But I want people to know you're mine."

"I don't see how it will escape people's notice. It will be the two of us at the altar, after all."

Stephen stared at him silently.

"Are you pouting, Strange?"

"No." Yes.

Loki's lips twisted as if undecided on the direction to take, then appearing to gather resolution, curled into a half-smile. "I forget how cute you can be sometimes."

Stephen simply looked down on the ground. Not even when Loki slid out of his lap did he give his fiancé any notice.

Loki had risen to his full height and was now towering over him. "The things I do for you, Strange…"

Whatever was so interesting on the ground was not so interesting anymore. Stephen lifted his head, hoping to hide at least some of his hopeful eagerness from his eyes.

"Tell you what." Loki let out a long-suffering sigh. "I'm not promising anything, but we'll take a look around and see if – see if there's something out there that suits my very discerning taste."

Stephen groaned. "That's darn near impossible to find."

"Take it or leave it." Loki shrugged. "So I'm afraid you'll just have to wait. Until I see something I like."

"When will that be?" he grumbled.

"Oh, you will know. When it fits," Loki said vaguely.

Stephen rolled his eyes. "Surely we can find something in the whole of Midgard that fits you. Or one of your artisan metallurgists can make one for you."

It could just be his imagination, but the air in the room seemed to have suddenly gone chilly.

"You are not listening to me." Loki's voice had gone quiet. Dangerously so, too.

"Is this how it's going to be? After we're married?"

Shit. He should not have let it get this far –

"Uh, no. My sweet. Darling." Stephen hurriedly grabbed Loki's hand and punctuated each term of endearment with a kiss on Loki's knuckles individually. "My better half. Dearest heart. Love of my life."

"No hurry. No hurry at all." While Loki was still pliant, Stephen quickly wrapped his arms around Loki's waist. "Take all the time you need."

After a few long seconds of frosty silence, it began to thaw.

"Nice save. Congratulations," Loki said, still a little haughtily.

Overwhelmed with relief, Stephen buried his face in Loki's stomach.

"Please don't leave me."

Now thawed completely, Loki simply had to laugh, because it tickled, and because Stephen was being utterly ridiculous. He bent down to murmur into Stephen's hair, "How can I? You would first have to return my heart."

Now Loki was the one being ridiculous.

"Never."

New Asgard, present time

"Your Highness." She nodded her head in greeting.

On any other day, he would have rebuked her for the unsavoury form of address but today, Stephen only looked at her silently, eyes and voice apathetic. "What do you want, Valkyrie?"

"Get up. I'm taking over."

"No."

"You have not left him for three days."

Stephen shrugged.

"So that's your plan? You gonna stare him to death today too?"

"What's it to you what I do?"

The air in the room stirred before coming to a still, hostile and oppressive. Alarm bristled the hair on the back of Stephen's neck –

"How dare you."

Stephen raised his head slowly.

Valkyrie's face had gone pale, the hand resting on the hilt of her scabbard visibly shaking.

"He's still alive, and you act like you're grieving."

"Maybe I am." Stephen did not recognise his own voice, his throat constricted and raw with suppressed emotions.

"Oh you haven't seen grieving, Fancy Man." She seemed to be gripping Dragonfang tighter, her knuckles blanched so white against the bronze of her skin. "Take it from someone as old as I."

He wished the Valkyrie would leave them alone. He wished to share Loki with no one.

"You're drunk." He shook his head in disgust.

"Not drunk enough for this," she muttered. But it had been her intention to barge in and rail into him and she was going to do just that, painfully sober or not.

"Out of the two of us, Sorcerer, you're the one in the position to do something. Or is all the fancy costume just for show?"

Feeling the dust stinging his eyes once more, Stephen palmed his face. He was so incredibly tired.

"Just because you kiss him and he doesn't wake up? Please. This isn't one of your stupid Midgardian fairy tales. And Loki ain't a princess."

"Stop. Please."

"He's still breathing, isn't he?" She ranted furiously. "If you're going to act like he's already dead then why did you save him in the first place?"

He breathed in sharply.

And suddenly the Valkyrie was in his face, so close her black tresses were touching the hands he was gripping around his armrest.

"Snap the fuck out of it." She enunciated each acidic word with such ferocity Stephen could see why the Valkyrie were such a force on the battlefield; they were ferocious off it too.

"Now if it please Your Highness," she said, her voice controlled but still tight, "You're in my seat."

Stephen stared into her deep brown eyes, but the staring match did not last long for he knew it was lost, the moment he saw Valkyrie walk into the room.

And Valkyrie knew it too. She took a few steps back expectantly.

Stephen rose from his chair, his heart heavy yet strangely light at the same time.

He slowly circled an arm round the back of Loki's shoulders and carefully lifted, holding Loki's lolling head tightly to his chest as he breathed in the scent of his husband's hair deeply.

He fiercely kissed Loki's cold forehead long and deep before laying him gently down again. "I'll be back, Loki."

He lingered for a few seconds in the mad hope that Loki would stir. When Loki did not, his heart did not sink but Stephen was not surprised in the least. There was no way it could sink any lower to begin with.

Just before his hand turned the handle to the door, he turned his head a smidge. "Thank you, Valkyrie."

"Didn't do it for you." She snapped angrily. A second later, she repeated, "Didn't do it for you." Softer, more subdued this time. The look in her eyes as she stared sadly at the motionless form in front of her was one he had seen before. Valkyrie had been more than just a shield, a protector – she had been a friend, ever present at Loki's side through his long period of illness in the first stages of his pregnancy.

It was a given she would be by his side this time around too.

"I know," Stephen concurred readily, and meant it. "Thank you."

"Just fix this." Her jaw was tight. "I don't care what you have to do. Just – do it."

"I'm sorry, Stephen." Wong could not have sounded more apologetic. "It is old Asgardian magic, largely obsolete in the texts and in practice. The only ones who could have given us any answer are probably Loki himself.."

At Wong's hesitation, Stephen finished his train of thought for him. "And the Sorcerer who cast it. Who is currently inconveniently dead."

Wong looked glum. "I will keep searching of course, but I have to tell you, it's looking bleak at the moment."

He studied his friend's dejected profile. But the fact that Stephen was actually making the effort to talk to him meant he was trying to pull himself together, and Wong knew it was more than just his duty to help strengthen the Sorcerer Supreme's resolve.

"On the very, very, very bright side, the magic seems to spare Loki's life force," he emphasised. "As long as he is alive, there is still hope, Stephen."

The smile Stephen gave him was small and wan.

"How are you holding up?" Wong asked lightly, "With the kids?"

"I'm getting a lot of help, Wong," Stephen said gently. "One of the perks of marrying into the royal family." Stephen disguised his grimace as something that was supposed to look like a reassuring smile.

Wong stared at him, expressionless. "I can see right through you."

Stephen sighed, his words heavy and laced with guilt. "I'm sorry, Wong. I know I haven't been around lately."

"You think I'm concerned about that?" Wong scoffed. "The Sanctums have never fallen ever since you became Sorcerer Supreme. They are hardly going to do that just because you have a family emergency to take care of. Not with me here."

Stephen smiled gratefully. This time Wong knew it was genuine as the smile reached his eyes. "You're a true friend, Wong."

"Yes, yes." Wong waved him off, he had heard it before after all – "I'm more interested in what you're planning to do now. You're not suicidal, are you?"

"What? No!" Stephen recoiled in disgust.

Wong only lifted his eyebrows. "You going to conjure the dead sorcerer's spirit? Or invoke the demon he made the deal with to bargain a better deal?"

Stephen looked at him as if he had gone mad. "Are you serious?"

"Just checking." Wong shrugged. "Well what then? I assume you have a plan?"

"Vaguely." Stephen hesitated. "I have to pay someone a visit."

"Will it be dangerous?" Wong perked up. It had been a while since he last fought anything.

"No, it will be quite...domestic, I believe." Stephen cocked his head, smirking. There was the glimmer of the old Stephen Wong was more used to – "Sorry to disappoint."

He sighed, "Have fun then."

"Keep me posted."

"As you command, Sorcerer Supreme."

"And Wong," he heard Stephen call just as he was about to end the international tele-portal call. "Thank you. For everything."

"You're suicidal," Wong said flatly.

"I'm not!"

"That's exactly the thing a suicidal person would say. I watch enough TV to know a thank you like that?" He shook his head, "Never ends well –"

"Oh, for the love of – Goodbye, Wong!"

"And now he's saying goodb –"

Stephen's portal flickered out, leaving Wong once again alone with his thoughts in the deep cavernous comfort of his library.

He inhaled deeply before turning his attention once more onto the tome he was perusing but his mind had wandered off too far to concentrate, for their predicament went beyond Stephen's little family.

If Stephen could not bring Loki back…there was no telling if Wong himself could bring Stephen back from the brink, and that thought alone was sending Wong's anxiety levels into overdrive.

The Sanctum may hold for now, but would it still hold if the Sorcerer Supreme could not fight his way out of this, should the outcome be as dire as how things were looking right now?

The woman collected the eggs from her coop as was her routine every morning if there be eggs to be collected, arranging them methodically in her basket according to size and shine of the outer shell as was her habit.

It was a simple life now that she led. And with it came a peace that she had not thought she would get to experience again. Her sleep may occasionally be fitful, but the dreams were becoming rarer and farther apart now, and never quite as vivid as they once were.

She turned and froze.

Her basket of eggs would have been ruined had it not been saved by an invisible safety net as her hands slipped. A twist of his hand, and it landed unharmed and unbroken by her feet.

"Your Highness." Numbly she dropped into a hasty curtsy.

Stephen did not speak.

Feeling the blood drain from her face, she braved a look at her sudden visitor, and her face paled further. When she finally spoke, her voice was stricken with grief.

"It's happened, hasn't it."

Stephen's eyes hardened at the way she had phrased her question into a statement.

"Did you know this was going to happen?" As if sensing the fury simmering underneath his very skin, The Cloak gently rubbed its lapels against the sides of his neck to placate him, but Stephen was too far gone. The King may have pardoned her at Loki's behest and sent her into exile to live in solitary confinement until the end of her days, but if she had a part to play in this…

Stephen fought to remain calm. "Tell me everything."

"W-Would you like some tea, Your Highness?" Yrsa stuttered, wringing her hands into her apron, standing helplessly a few feet away from where Stephen was seated in her small living room.

"Don't call me that," he snapped. "And I am not here for tea."

The chair that had been leaning against the wall slid noisily across the floor and bumped into the back of her knees.

"Sit."

She obeyed.

"Have you heard? Of what has happened to Prince Loki?"

She shook her head slowly. Living on the outskirt of New Asgard seldom brought news beyond the little village closest to her cottage, let alone the Royal Palace.

She had lost the privilege long ago. "How fares Prince Loki?"

"Not very well. He is unconscious and has been unconscious for the past three days ever since the delivery of our daughter, Princess Aífe."

She had heard about the birth of the royal princess, but nothing about the Prince in particular; the piece of news horrified her.

"A post-partum complication, My Lord?" She inquired helplessly, perhaps this was not about that after all –

"You tell me."

"And Prince Stian, he is alright? You have not done...anything to him?"

Stephen's eyes turned dark. "I insist you explain to me right now what you were implying with such a question."

Her heart sank. So he was here because of…that.

There was nowhere she could run now. She was not sure if she even wanted to, even if she could.

"Tell me." The fury was radiating off him in waves, shifting the still air in her small cottage in drafts of raw power.

"I was there." She closed her eyes at the imagery. "I heard the words."

"Wha – who?" Stephen took a breath, he needed to calm down. "The words…to the –? "

"Curse, yes." She swallowed hard.

"They were just lying there, near death." She remembered the smell, of blood and decay, the heaviness of the air weighed down by the darkest magic she had ever encountered, she remembered the heat –

"With his dying breath, Father uttered words, words so dark they could not have been anything but a…curse."

"Do you still remember them?"

"Oh yes." Her eyelashes were wet. "They still haunt me from time to time."

"What are they?"

"I can't say them." She shook her head. "I can't."

Stephen was silent. He knew the fear was real, as real as the blood debt that hung over both their heads.

She was afraid to say the words for she feared she would end up cursing him too.

A pen and paper materialised in front of her. "Write them down."

Her eyes pleaded with him, No –

"It's fine. It's enchanted." Stephen held the pen out. "Now write."

Her hand shook, but when she had finally done writing, her hand was steady as she silently handed him the piece of paper.

Stephen's eyes darkened to almost black as he read and reread the words, his heart filled with dread.

"The wolf…"

"Takes what is taken, returns when it is returned."

"What does that mean?" The paper began to crumple in his fist, "How do I break it?"

"I…don't know."

"You do," Stephen said accusingly. "I can see it in your eyes."

He demanded, "Tell me."

"I already did." Tears slowly rolled down her face.

Takes what is taken

returns when it is returned

Stephen's blood drained from his face as the true meaning of her words barrelled into him like a sledgehammer.

"So the only way to bring Loki back…" A sick whisper, "..is to return what Loki has taken?"

Yrsa only stared at him with eyes clouded with pain, as though her silence was enough an answer.

Stephen remembered her very odd question earlier in their conversation. A sickening sensation churned in his gut, and he felt almost physically ill. "Stian…"

"An eye for an eye." His head spun wildly. "A son for a…son."

Stephen needed to move, he needed to get out of here, he would pass out if he stayed here any longer, as light-headed as he was – he felt as if he was suffocating.

He jumped to his feet and lurched unsteadily for the door.

"Doctor, please!"

"I need to go. I must return." Return to his husband, his children –

He stopped short, his hand hovering over the knob. He swallowed against a wave of nausea.

"Do you have children of your own, Yrsa?" He only just realised that he had never asked.

Yrsa joined him at the door. Together they stared at the small framed photo on the door.

"When Huldar died, I had only just conceived. We were newly-married, you see." She smiled wistfully. Huldar looked so handsome on their wedding day. But her smile faltered soon enough.

"Driven mad by grief, my father-in-law offered the child in my womb in exchange for power and knowledge of dark sorcery." Her voice was hollow, her eyes dark with grief. "The bargain was struck, and the next morning, I woke up bleeding…and empty."

" 'For the right price, anything can be learnt.' " She echoed the chilling words. "Was what he said."

Stephen was struck by a sudden loss for words.

"I am sorry," he managed finally.

"No, I am sorry." She shook her head regrettably. "For all the pain I have caused you. What I did, what my father-in-law did…was unforgiveable."

"Your loss is no less great. Your baby, your husband…"

"Was a soldier," she said softly. "I knew the risks, Doctor. I married him anyway."

"I beg your pardon, Your Highness, for I know this is too forward of me, but would you –" her breath halted. "Would you give all my love to Prince Stian? Please." She begged. "Tell him I miss him."

Stephen turned his head slowly to look at her. "You still think about him?"

The tears shone bright in her eyes. "Every day."

"Goodbye, Yrsa."

"Goodbye, Doctor."

"Thor?"

There was no mistaking the hulking figure sitting silently in the darkness of his living room.

"Shh. He's just gone to sleep."

"Stian?" Stephen squinted, and caught a glimpse of his son's face, pale as moonlight. He was curled around his Uncle's lap like a slinky polecat.

"He insisted on waiting up for you. Refused to go to sleep." Thor ran his fingers through Stian's hair. "I checked on Aífe earlier and the nursery says she's been quiet."

"That's good," Stephen replied in relief.

Thor's eyes shone bright and blue in the dark. "You look exhausted."

"It's been a long day." Stephen offered nothing further. He sank heavily into the armchair opposite his brother-in-law.

Thor carefully lifted his nephew and relinquished him into Stephen's waiting arms. "I will leave you now but please, get some rest."

"Thank you, Thor." Stephen hoped his words of gratitude encompassed everything.

Thank you for looking after the children.

Thank you for not asking questions. Thank you for just being there.

Thor's hand on his shoulder was surprisingly gentle, unlike his usual heavy-handed favourite gesture of affection. "I have faith in you, Stephen."

Stephen only nodded. He pressed the side of his face against Stian's head, savouring the sensation of glossy strands of hair tickling his cheek.

The door closed quietly behind Thor.

Stephen walked over to the windows. He looked out, and up. The stars were exceptionally bright tonight.

What was the last thing Loki saw when he looked out the window that night before the wolf devoured him?

The moon looked harmless now.

He could not look at it for too long.

Instead of taking Stian to his room, Stephen took his son to the master bedroom and placed him gently on the bed he shared with Loki.

He climbed in next to his little boy and closed his eyes. He was thankful that the sheets had not been changed for he could not bear burying his face in Loki's pillow in search for his scent only to find it replaced by the smell of linen, as crisp and fresh as it may be.

He hugged his son tighter to him.

Stian, for Loki.

"Daddy?" Stian murmured sleepily.

"Stian?" he croaked. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

Loki, for Stian.

Stian's small hands searched his face.

"Daddy, please don't cry."

How? How do I stop?

"I'm not, buddy." He tried to breathe through the sudden tightening of his chest. "Something in my eyes, that's all."

Stephen thumbed the roundness of his snow-white cheek. "You go back to sleep now. I'll watch over you."

Stian wrapped his little arms around his waist. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, Stian. So, so much," he almost wept.

How now, Loki?

What do I do?

Stian was fast asleep once more, truly an angel if Stephen ever saw one on this earth –

How could I choose?

A/N: THANK YOU to those who've left me kind reviews, you guys are awesome. It warms my heart to know this story is being read and enjoyed. 3