"You are very warm." Thor had been right in his deduction.

"It's the burn." Loki sighed wearily, the heat of his breath bristling through the tiny hairs on Stephen's neck. "It is consuming me. I do not take very well to heat."

Stephen knew full well the dangers of unchecked fevers to human women in pregnancy, and was willing to bet the dangers applied to Loki as well. He reached down to cradle the convexity of Loki's belly and frowned deeply at the heat emanating through the thin layer of his tunic. "It is not good for the baby."

"Had you but bargained for one more day with me-" Loki murmured

"I bargained for a hell of a lot more than a day for you." He had gone as far as suggesting Loki be sequestered in a Mirror Dimension so long as the threat was still at large, but Thor would have none of it. His wrath was something to behold.

"You would have my brother locked up in another dimension, alone and with child, until you see fit to release him?"

"Until we have eliminated the threat, there is no hold as secure and safe as the Mirror Dimension. I will guard it, and by extension, him and our unborn child, with my life."

"A prison by any other name is still a prison and will not and will never again be a place for Loki. Not in my lifetime and I can live for a very, very long time, Master Strange."

Stephen stiffened and his protest died before given voice as Thor leveled him with a glare so fierce, so indignant

"The onus is on US to fight for him and protect him, not latch onto the first easy way out without a care for his holistic wellness." Suddenly Stormbreaker was but an arm's length away from his chest. "I care not that you have the most secure magic dungeon in the universe and that you hold the key in your hand."

"Keys can be lost. As for hands," Thor looked coolly at the human sorcerer's pitiful, scarred ones. "Well."

"Thor loves so differently."

Seeming unfazed by the sudden change in subject, Loki followed the train of thought well as if he was reading Stephen's memory. "That he does."

All reserves spent, Loki started to slide down the wall, and would have landed on his bottom had it not been for the chair Stephen quickly conjured for him. "As I was saying before you kindly interrupted me-" He looked down at the palms of his hand, "I do not have much time for healing spells and quiet recuperation. Evening comes but in a few hours."

"Surely Thor would understand if-"

"My brother is a newly anointed and crowned King, Strange. And as the only living member of the Royal Family and the King's Advisor, I cannot undermine his authority so soon into his reign, not when he has issued a royal decree, for what will his subjects think of him then?" Loki shook his head wearily. "I will not jeopardise his rule."

A moment of silence ensued.

"For someone so proud to be contrary, you and Thor are one and the same." Stephen grumped.

Loki did not rise to his taunt. The look of consternation on his face filled Stephen with the first curls of dread. "What are you thinking, Loki?"

"I am thinking that you might hate me for what I am about to do, and I am unsure if I am ready for it. Yet I must."

"My dear, we are so past hate." Suddenly very tired himself, Stephen sat down on his haunches and rested his head against the side of the chair. He reached up and claimed one of Loki's upturned palms in his hand. "We might as well be a married couple now."

Loki laughed, but it sounded bitter and strangely buoyant all the same. "I wouldn't be too sure about that." His fingers curled around Stephen's, holding on to the last semblance of warmth and affection, savouring it while it lasted-

"If it weren't so hateful Odin wouldn't have hidden it from me under the pretence of fraternal love and parental protection, and my life wouldn't have been the wreckage of fallen dominoes that it was, and in some ways still is."

Stephen was quiet for a long time. "Would have, could have."

"Oh, you Time Lords." Loki closed his eyes. "Spare us the lecture and let us lament for time is short even for immortals like me. Shorter still if we don't hurry."

Stephen watched as a trickle of sweat traced a path down the hollow of his neck with pangs of worry.

"What do you need?"

"I need to purge this poison. It is a fire, borne of magic, thus one must fight fire not with fire, but ice."

"Right. So magic ice." Stephen nodded, his mind already thinking of a dozen spells and running a mental checklist of ingredients he must procure-

"No. Not magic ice, my dear Doctor."

Loki lifted his palm, the one not still fiercely holding Stephen's hand, and blew.

And lo and behold, his nails elongated and tapered to razor sharpness, ombréing to an obsidian black. An effervescent pale blue began spiralling down his fingers in lazy swirls, releasing clouds of icy steam from his fingertips.

"Ice Magic."

Stephen paced the floor. His footsteps had traced the well-trodden path on the long hall runner rug back and forth for most of the hour, yet Loki was showing no sign of change.

But he knew better than to disturb the meditative stance of the figure sitting cross-legged on the floor against the wall of so still a countenance one would think him a statue. Stephen marveled again at the sight of Loki's pale blue skin and the intricate ridges lining his face like artistic keloids.

"Come on, Loki," Stephen muttered, trying to ignore the anxiety threatening to take over.

A breathy whisper - "Ready, Strange." The statue speaks! Stephen hurried over and crouched in front of Loki in anticipation.

Here it comes.

Loki's eyes flew open, crimson and unseeing.

A sudden drop in temperature heralded the coming of the dark energy as Loki gathered it all at his core; he lifted his burned arm into the air and held it out straight with his palm facing heavenward –

Heavy frost started to form where Loki's shoulder met his neck, traveling downward toward the first of the many blisters. Stephen watched the frost sweep over the inflamed, peeling skin and raw denuded areas where the blisters had burst until it finally reached his wrist. From his fingertips, thick tendrils of black smog began to appear, its wisps seemingly sentient as they traveled through the air as if seeking a new host.

Stephen conjured a flask imbued with containment and cleansing spells and held it at eye level with one hand. Golden tendrils of energy began to take on form in his other hand and like a lasso, he cast it toward the residual energy of the Spell of Revelation and lured it into the flask. After all the smog had been contained, Stephen palmed the mouth of the flask and sealed it with another enchantment, his eyes trained on Loki.

And finally, it was over.

Loki exhaled a long, slow, icy breath-

He opened his eyes of crimson rubies and found himself staring into the Sorcerer Supreme's grey eyes. Loki did not speak as he braced himself, expecting to see horror or revulsion…and yet he saw none. Only deep-seated worry and a hint of irritable impatience.

"Loki?" Are you back with me?

"Yes." He answered the unspoken question. He could not understand the instantaneous look of sheer relief his short answer had brought forth onto Stephen's face.

"Thank God." Stephen shook his head. "You've been gone a while."

"The venom lay deep and strong. I had to find it all and not leave even a drop in my blood lest it poison our son."

Stephen gazed at him, his handsome face unreadable. "So, this is you?"

"Part of me. The real me. All of me."

Stephen was quiet for a long time.

"What are you called?"

"A Jötunn."

Again, Stephen was silent for a long stretch of time. When he finally spoke, his voice was tinged with wonder. "Fascinating."

He reached out to touch Loki's face, and immediately Loki recoiled. "No mortal hands can touch me and not get burned."

Stephen gazed at him coolly. "I am no ordinary mortal."

And true enough, when Stephen's palm came to rest against Loki's cheek, his touch recognised the feel of Loki's skin, now only a few degrees colder than usual. To Loki's great relief, no black canker of frostbite lay claim to the human sorcerer's skin and he relished in the feel of Stephen's thumb as it caressed his cheekbone gently.

"Do I not…disgust you?"

The Cloak of Levitation whipped around and smacked Loki on the other cheek, eliciting a surprised gasp. Stephen's laughter rang through the deserted corridor. "What he said."

And Stephen kissed him, light and chaste.

"And that's what I say."

Loki still could not speak. When a second kiss came, this time deeper and harder, he began to come around and a blue hand rose to hesitantly cup Stephen's cheek, marveling in wonder at the contrast of his blue skin against the tanned brown of Stephen's stubbled jawline.

"You are truly undisturbed by my true form?"

"I'm an all-or-nothing kind of guy, Loki." The last time Loki touched his face, Stephen had rebuffed him in a fit of misplaced indignation. He would not repeat that mistake. "And I'm saying I'm all in."

Loki felt his heart flutter, but the thrill did not last long. He watched Stephen shiver against the chill he must have had to endure for hours.

Loki willed the change with ease, and soon the cerulean blue of his skin and the garnet hue of his eyes receded; with the return of his pale Aesir skin, Loki noted the absence of the burning fever with an almost overwhelming sense of relief; Stephen immediately placed a hand on Loki's forehead and by the look on his face, it was a sentiment shared.

"This form's alright too," Stephen shrugged, feigning nonchalance. At the sight of Loki's green eyes, now clear and no longer clouded by the throes of fever, desire stirred inside him like the feeling of awakening to the morning sky after a long, long sleep. "Shall I kiss you again?"

His eyes suddenly downcast, Loki tucked an unruly lock of jet-black hair behind his ear and shook his head slowly, mournfully, "All these months of holding back and now that we only have hours to ourselves –"

"I could come with you to Asgard."

Loki blinked a few times. "A tempting prospect, Doctor, but what about your Sanctum?"

"I'm only a portal away. Besides, unlike you, Wong has a phone. And a different Beyoncé ringtone with every call. Drives me mad because he forgets and never picks it up."

The humour was evidently lost on Loki; his sharp pinched face telling Stephen that perhaps a bit more convincing was required. He grasped the now pale hands and squeezed. "Look. I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to stay long but at least I can see you settled in, and once I am convinced of your safety and that of our son, I will return to New York. I do have unfinished business here." His eyes turned hard. He had a sniper to hunt.

"Besides, Stark did say he needed help with the crops, agricultural technology not being his forte or something or other. I know a cultivating spell or two that might help."

"That's what you'll be doing. Farming." Loki dead-panned.

Stephen leaned in for another kiss; he'd waited too long – "Among other things."

"Hate me if you will, brother, though it pains me greatly that you would," the God of Thunder's eyes were equally mournful despite their mismatched colour, "But know that it pains me even more to see you come to harm."

Despite his determination to at least maintain an outward appearance of anger, Loki could feel it melt away at the sight of his brother, so resigned and burdened he was by his brotherly inclinations, judging from the hunching of his great shoulders and the dejection souring his handsome features.

"I do not hate you, Thor." Loki sighed at last, and stepped forward to accept the embrace, fierce and tight, but Stephen noted the care Thor still took lest he crush Loki in his gratitude and relief.

Stephen soon found himself the center of attention as they gathered around him and looked at him expectantly. "I trust you will grant us safe passage and see us off?" Thor asked. The antagonism seemed to have all but left him, and his tone was not unkindly.

"Yes, about that, brother." Loki gave Thor's hand a cajoling squeeze. "Stephen would like to accompany us to Asgard and perhaps remain for a day or two, if you should grant him stay."

"Of course," Thor consented without hesitation. "You are welcome, Sorcerer, and the length of your welcome is indefinite, seeing as you are the sire of the child my brother carries, who is also my nephew and my royal heir."

"He is?" Bruce squeaked. The physicist squinted at Stephen through his little spectacles. "You are?"

Stephen felt his eyebrows quiver in irritation. "And what of it?" He snapped.

Loki rolled his eyes. Yet when he spoke, it was not without a hint of amusement. "Oh Bruce." He shook his head in exasperation. "Who did you think it was? NO, you know what? Don't tell me." His glare turned venomous when Bruce's gaze flicked reluctantly in Thor's direction.

"Gentlemen. My friends. Brother." Thor interrupted. "Let us go. The Valkyrie and Einherjar are waiting."

Stephen stepped backward a few steps, still more than a little pissed off, gauging from the dirty look he was giving Bruce, and Loki found himself strangely warmed inside.

Deciding to take pity on the human, Loki walked over to him and his cool fingers grazed the back of Bruce's hand fleetingly. "A pardonable oversight, Bruce. Think on it no longer."

Bruce grimaced an apologetic smile. Loki could be so scary when he wanted to be. And his fingers were cold.

Stephen quelled his lingering annoyance and concentrated. A few sleights of hand later, a sizable portal bloomed into view and the golden haze of the sun setting over the beautiful Norwegian coastline washed into the drawing room, basking them in its residual warmth and ethereal glow.

The four of them stepped through with Stephen in the lead, and he found himself face-to-face with a woman, clearly a warrior judging from her gleaming silver-white armour and the aura that radiated from her core, yet possessing of features so comely Stephen would call her beautiful in a heartbeat. Her bronze skin shone in the light of dusk and her black hair long and full, but despite her beauty, Stephen could sense something deadly about her…must be the way her hand curled around the hilt of her sword at her side that only relaxed when she caught sight of the rest of the entourage.

"Your Majesty."

Thor nodded at her.

"Brunnhilde, Doctor Stephen Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme." He waved his kingly hand around by means of introduction, "Doctor Stephen Strange, the Valkyrie Lady Brunnhilde."

"Valkyrie to you." Her voice was level, not yet friendly.

Unconsciously he drew on his chakra and felt his aura deepen. Stephen was a lot of things, but without manners he was not. "Nice to finally meet you." Raw magic radiated from him in an invisible corona of power.

Valkyrie only snorted. "You didn't tell me he's a show-off. Step aside, Sorcerer Supreme."

Stephen heard Loki chuckle softly from behind him.

"Lackey." She looked her dark prince up and down, unabashed. " 'Alright?"

"Never better." Loki's smile was serene, but his eyes playful. "Been working out, I see."

"All the better for kicking your skinny arse." She smirked in return. "Highness."

"It's good to see you, Val." A slight upturning of her lips. It was gone in the blink of an eye as she turned her full attention again to the Sorcerer Supreme, standing slightly off-centre in the entourage.

"Huh." As she did Loki, Valkyrie looked him up and down coolly, obviously studying him like an entomologist would an insect. "At least you're slightly better-looking than the Grandmaster."

"If only he were made of as much money," Thor muttered under his breath, and Bruce muffled his snicker with a polite cough.

"Shorter by a mile, but at least the royal babe will have a chance at looking passable."

"I…thank you?" Now Stephen knew what Loki meant when he said the Valkyrie had a wit with a default setting somewhere between complimentary and derogatory.

Loki did not seem offended at all, for at a discreet nod he permitted Valkyrie to lay her hand upon his royal person with not so much as a frown. She kept her palm steady and gentle on his belly as her eyes glazed over and Stephen could swear they changed colour; it was a few long seconds before her reverie broke and her eyes returned from the fluorescent silver to her normal dark brown. "He will be a strong one."

"And so shall I be, for him." The unexpected thrum of magic from her binding oath stole Loki's breath, and he wavered slightly. Thor placed a steadying hand on his back.

"Thank you, Valkyrie." Thor's shoulders relaxed as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"Majesty." She gave a small bow of her head. Then she cocked it in the direction of the settlement. "Shall we? Your subjects are waiting."

"I like what you've done with the place." Loki murmured as they walked through the fields of grass, catching glimpses in the distance of the golden spires of the new school of magic he had commissioned, the minarets of the healing halls and the golden domes of the new palace and administrative buildings, all still under heavy yet thriving construction.

"Why thank you, Y'Highness," Valkyrie purred. "Fat load of help you were, traipsing around with your new fancy man-"

Bruce was quick to gesticulate his hands wildly before giving the Valkyrie a sharp nudge in the side, "No, no, no, not the 'F' word, Val!"

"What. Fancy?" Val snorted. "Look at him. The tunic, the belt, the hair - take away that peculiar thing on his back and convince me he didn't lift all that off the Grandmaster's fashion book."

Stephen could feel the Cloak of Levitation bristle and he patted it placatingly, yet his nose crinkled in irritation. "Who is this Grandmaster you all keep talking about?"

"Thor. She called me fat."

"Valkyrie. We've talked about this." Thor hissed, slashing his index finger across his throat-

Bruce nodded vehemently. "Yes, he is a bit sensitive, more sensitive than usual-"

"Thor, have you been calling me that too?" A crestfallen look. "How could you, brother?"

Valkyrie threw her head back and cackled.

She socked Loki on the shoulder none-too-lightly before leaping up to circle her heavily-vambraced arm around her royal charge's neck, forcefully bringing him down in a quick, tight embrace. "You leave my sight again, and I will kill you. Fatty."

Stephen stared. And felt he should offer his two cents' worth somewhat. "You guys are crazy."