"Norn Verthandi," said Frigga breathlessly, bowing her head. As one, the court dropped to the ground, faces pressed into the stones. Loki stayed on his feet, refusing to even bow his head as Thor did. He did not miss the narrowing of Skuld's eyes at the reception her sister received. The youngest Norn seemed to know what it was to be in shadow as much as he did.

The Weaver's gaze twitched away from Skuld and flicked over Frigga's face. "I have no time for pleasantries, Queen of Asgard. I am come for my wayward sister."

Skuld slid in front of Loki. "You need not have made such a show."

Verthandi's four spindle arms curled in anger, long fingers clenched into fists. "Show? Have you any notion what your useless romances have done? Can you not see the chaos you have wrought?" She threw out her hands to the shimmering mirage curling into the palace behind her. The image grew stronger, gigantic twisted roots arching into the aisles and stretching away into the towering rafters. Citizens scattered from the solidifying vision. Masonry groaned as the roots grew more solid, appearing to have grown right out of the pavers. Where once the throne room had looked out onto the city, now it flowed directly into the Heart of Yggdrasil.

Loki caught his breath. He had been but a child the last time he had seen the Heart. The twining roots and branches cocooned around the Well of Urd, a shining sphere of water suspended at the center of all things. Shifting images ghosted across the water's surface, dancing above the star strewn depths of the well. In the center, like a fly suspended in amber, floated Urd herself, gauzy dress and trailing hair gently floating in the water about her. Her eyes still closed in sleep as she dreamed the dreams of the world tree, mind riding the universe's song through the long ages.

"See the knot you have made," snapped Verthandi, pointing at what Loki had originally taken to be multi-hued spider webs. Looking closer he could see the crystalline weave of the very threads of fate. The glinting tapestry strung throughout the Heart, caught like a thousand webs between branch and root. The threads themselves pulsed with a subtle energy, rippling with color much like the Bifrost.

It wasn't hard to spot the problem. The tapestry ended in a horrific snarl of knotted threads. Here the lights spasamed fitfully.

Skuld faced her sister with a half-lidded stare. "I have re-written the ending."

Verthandi shook with an anger that Loki felt in his marrow. "How dare you attempt to thwart the will of Yggdrasil!"

The younger Norn threw back her head. "The only will I thwart is yours," growled Skuld. "My tale does not change his doom. It simply tells it better."

"For too long have I indulged your fancies. Catered to your childish imaginings. You have endangered us all. To fight fate is to risk the breaking of all things!" The Weaver turned toward Loki, pointing in accusation. "That thing will end us all—and yet you would have us imagine more than villainy in his heart?"

Thor edged toward Loki, fingers gripping Mjolnir.

Skuld's voice came quietly. "Admit your fear, sister. This small one and the destiny he bears terrify you." She looked up. "You hate him. Every stitch you've made for him was retribution for what is to come."

"And why should the Father of Monsters and Bringer of Ragnarok not be made to suffer?"

Frigga's hand went to her mouth as she leaned back into Odin's protective arm. Fearful whispers curled through the throng, splintering into anger and loathing. The weight of their gaze settled across Loki's shoulders as he ducked his head.

"And you thought I'd never amount to anything." At his side, Book leaned into him and gazed up, an unspoken question in his glance. Loki absently patted his head.

Leveling his hammer at the Norn, Thor spoke in defense of his brother. "Even Loki would not do such a thing."

A pale hand settled onto his arm and forced it down as Loki stood beside him. He didn't face him, merely gazed into space. "What do you know of it, Thor? The void looked into me and I saw it…I always told you that it was too late. I am the architect of all destruction." He glanced sideways through his hair. "Impressed?"

Verthandi whirled on her sister, the move sickening in its swiftness. "This is the creature you would give succor to? Would try to reunite with his family—even after all he has done and all he is yet to do? A fool's mission."

"You have always refused to see the possibilities in him! In the future I could write." A ghosting of runes skudded just beneath the surface of Skuld's skin. "My only use was for recording what you devised—the trite, obvious interpretation of every vision. I can write a future just as well as you can weave one!"

A tremor shot through the hall as Verthandi darted forward, looming over her sister. "Your scribblings are not but the sentimental daydreamings of a selfish child!"

"Cease." A voice echoed through the hall, soft but commanding. It sucked all other sound into it and rang so truly that Loki wasn't sure whether he heard it at all, or whether the meaning simply reverberated through his soul.

The well drew all attention to itself. Frigga sank weakly to the stairs and Odin sagged against Gungnir. Urd's eyes were open.

To hold her gaze was like falling into the depths of time, universes spinning out their days between her lashes. Death and life, beginnings and endings all flared there, and the song of Yggdrasil haunted the darkness. Rarely did the sleeper pull herself from the dream enough to open her eyes.

Her vaguely childlike features did nothing to ease the weight of her presence. The discord between what your eyes told you and the sheer ancientness in her gaze pushed the mind toward madness. Loki tried to turn his attention anywhere but those churning, vibrant depths. Yet he had never wanted to give himself over to something more.

The sisters started forward as Urd descended from the well, dropping through its shimmering surface to stand, dripping, among the roots of the tree. Verthandi placed one hand to her mouth, the others clutched in confusion. The dreamer had not left her well since she entered it at the start of all things.

The eldest Norn held up a hand, stopping her sisters. For a moment she merely stood, lank hair dropping all the way to the floor. Water spread out from her in a sparkling puddle. The vastness of the universe vanished briefly as she blinked. She then bent and ripped a stretch of cloth from her trailing gown and bound it across her eyes. A thousand shuddering sighs blew across the hall as the Asgardians remembered what it was to breathe.

"Why have you brought your debate to young Odin's halls?" asked Urd, nodding her head toward the throne.

Verthandi swelled with smug superiority as she steepled both sets of hands before her. "Our sister has forgotten her place—she overreaches herself."

"There is no need to take joy in the fact, Verthandi," said Urd. The quiet rebuke settled on the other Norn's shoulders. Urd ghosted across the floor to stand before Skuld. It was not so much that Urd moved, but that the world moved around her so that she was always exactly where she wished to be. "Why have you knotted your sister's work?" An inquisitive tilt appeared in her posture as she looked up at her much taller sister.

"You know."

"This creature." She gestured offhandedly at Loki, causing Thor to stiffen.

"If you only looked at him, you'd see his potential—what he could become if given half the chance. Look at them. Yggdrasil itself has woven together their destinies. Who are we to set the sons of Odin at odds?"

Without turning, Urd swiveled so that her shrouded gaze fell on Loki. The twist of cloth did nothing to soften the weight of her hidden eyes. It rushed over and through him, peeling back the lies and delusions, casting about in the darkest of corners and seeing even beyond who he was to who he would be. "Oh, but I do see him. More clearly than any." She reached out to grip the ends of Skuld's long fingers. With a gentle squeeze and a sad smile the Norn shook her head. "Your fondness for the boy has clouded your gaze."

A muffled gasp broke the silence as Loki stepped forward. Urd turned to acknowledge him, or rather the world turned so he was facing her. His magic roiled within him in a way that felt a great deal like nausea. Swallowing deeply, he gave a terse bow. She inclined her head, amusement lacing the gesture. "You would speak, child of Jotunheim?"

"Child of Asgard," Loki corrected, "though I doubt they'd wish to claim me."

"Who would," growled Verthandi. Urd held up a hand to quiet her sister.

With a smile bordering on cheek, Loki continued in an unconcerned way. Or at least what he hoped came across as unconcerned. "I have within me wells of rage, bitterness, and jealousy—and perhaps a touch of madness," he threw a wink to Book who shifted uncomfortably. "And when I saw the burning of all things it all made sense, this apocalypse made just for me. A mere trickster no longer, but an architect of chaos." He bared his teeth, bitter acceptance mixed with the relief of final revelation. "Finally there was a reason." He looked to where Odin stood. "A reason for the lies. I was raised for a throne that I had no hope of. But I was made to rule nonetheless. Not that backwater of a realm, nor even Asgard herself. Yggdrasil has given me a power even greater than the Norns. The Tree granted me the power to end all things."

"I close my eyes and I see it. The burning and then the emptiness—not even darkness or silence will remain." A manic pitch crept into his tone. "There are not words to describe what I will do—to understand what is to come. And the tree picked me. Oh, I am honored."

A breathy laugh escaped his lips. "So what does any of this matter, really. What I do now, the consequences, who I hurt. Because I know that I will be the monster at the end of all things." His voice quieted, though he could still be easily heard throughout the hall. "Why not get a start on it—I'm well on my way already."

"Lies."

Loki jerked round to face Thor as the Thunderer marched up to him. "Lies," Thor repeated. "Always lies with you. Even to yourself. You are no monster, Loki."

"I imagine the Jotun would think differently." He cocked his head in thought. "And the Midgardians, possibly the Chitauri, and of course let's not forget your own people, Thor—if they knew." His voice raised feverishly as he pivoted round to the court, "shall we take a vote?"

Large hands clamped onto his shoulders and whirled him around. "You have done monstrous things, brother." There was a deep sorrow in Thor's voice, one which spoke of a rent that could never be mended. But in his eyes shone conviction. "Yet you are no monster." He prodded him gently in the chest with Mjolnir. "You will be one only by your own choice—and that is easily changed."

For a moment the brothers could only stare at one another in a silent battle of wills, Loki disbelieving and Thor urging him to see the truth in his words. Finally it was Loki that shook his head, almost fondly, and looked away. "You are a sentimental fool…but you anticipate my point. May I continue, or do you have any more words of wisdom to add?" Loki held out his hands as if ceding the floor to his brother. Thor gave a quick jerk of his head, a slight discomfort warming his cheeks as he realized he might have interrupted his brother's train of argument with his passion. The teasing amusement in Loki's eyes seemed to say that Thor's outburst had been unneeded. The hint of a smile said that it was no less appreciated, however.

He returned to the patiently waiting—and perhaps somewhat amused—Norn. "My thoughts on the matter have undergone a transformation. I do not wish to be that thing I saw in the void. And perhaps—perhaps I can choose not to be."

Verthandi wheezed in a cracking kind of laugh. "What but a creature of darkness would tear down the foundation of all things?" She slid forward in sharp, scuttling motions and leaned into his face. "And do it while smiling."

"Then you should be asking why it was my brother smiled," said Thor.

A grim pleasure filled Skuld as she stood behind both of her sisters. There seemed to be almost gleeful pride as she watched Thor and Loki continue.

The dark haired prince bowed again to Urd. "Dreamer, you see only the fixed points of fate. Your sisters interpret and weave the threads that connect those points. But what if your interpretation is not the only one. If I…choose not to be a beast—perhaps this Ragnarok is not the horror that it appears. Not the end, but the beginning."

"These ideas, I think," said Urd, "are not of your own making." She drew Loki closer to her, peering up at him, her presence towering over him despite the fact that she barely came to his chest.

He felt no trespasser in his thoughts, but his magic prickled anxiously, like a hound before an oncoming storm. Though he could not feel it—or hope to stop it—he knew that Urd was shuffling through his inner self. When she looked at him, did she see the blue, scarred skin beneath the misty shreds of his Aesir form? What did he look like with all lies stripped away?

"Oh, I think you well know my muse," he said, still trying to sound undisturbed by the Norn's regard. The slight hum in her throat said that she well knew his discomfort and wondered why he yet bothered to try and lie to her.

Verthandi made a sound of disgust. "Your muse is a child at play, trying to usurp her betters." She folded one set of arms across her chest. "I have woven every step of your life. Do not think that I see you any less clearly than Urd." She circled him, bending stiffly down to hiss in his ear. "What a selfish, petty, hard-hearted creature you are. Is it little wonder Yggdrasil chose you to bring ruin to us all? This good you think you've done with that mongrel-child Skuld sent you? You cannot be so blind as to think it stems from some spark of nobility in that shriveled Jotun heart of yours?"

Evidently Book had heard, the hair on the back of his neck bristling. He lowered his head. A deep growl rumbled from his chest.

Skuld started forward, but Urd's upraised hand stopped her as Verthandi swiveled to look at Book. The slit-like nostrils flared in distaste. "To think my sister would try and elevate you to a role of prominence. I could snip your thread right now," she pinched two of her long talons together, "and not another thread would snarl because of it. You would not even leave a hole."

Fangs flashed as Book drew back his lips in an ugly snarl, quivering with rage. He stilled as Loki rested a hand on his back.

"And you think me petty," said Loki.

Lightning flashed in Thor's eyes. It seemed they were in agreement on their dislike of the Weaver at least.

"Verthandi, do not antagonize the mortal. It is beneath you," Urd said, her reprimand bringing her sister up short. The eldest Norn turned to her youngest sister. "How do you plan to make his path meet what Yggdrasil has ordained?"

Skuld drew a quill across her arm, its nib darkening with her blood. She then flicked the inky droplets into the air where they curled and flowed through intricate swirls of runic script. Verthandi sneered as she stalked in and among the spell like a spider inspecting something distasteful caught in its web. Urd merely stood at the center of the migrating letters, head back, palms turned toward the sky. The layers of runes began to flow together, whirling like a flock of startled birds around the Norn. Closer they came until they were nothing more than a long, swirling ribbon of jumbled text. The spell coiled ever more tightly around Urd before diving into her open palms, sinking beneath the skin to curl through her.

For a moment all was silent as the runes disappeared into Urd's pale flesh. Her hands dropped to her sides, but she continued to look skyward. Ticks of emotion flashed across her face as she saw what Skuld would make of Loki's destiny. A small sound of surprise escaped her. "Oh, Skuld. It is beautiful." Her head bowed as lines of black tears slipped from beneath the blindfold to disappear into nothingness. "So beautiful." She gripped Skuld's arms. "If only it could be so."

Skuld returned the embrace, something like panic shifting in her dark eyes. "We can have this hope. If he is not cast in the role of evil, perhaps his actions at the end will carry beyond our sight into something new and wonderful."

"I wish what you envision could come to pass, but you try to make him into something he is not. You see in him that which is not there and the Loki you imagine—could never exist—it is not in his nature. It was for this he was formed and this is the role for which he is destined."

For the first time during this exchange, Skuld looked at Loki, an apology written across her features. His shoulders tightened. They had lost. Urd did not believe.

"We must undo what you have done, untangle Verthandi's thread and start anew." Urd turned to the Weaver. "How far back must we unravel the tapestry?"

Verthandi was in among the threads, picking at first one, then another. She finally settled herself amongst the knot of threads, hands poised above the shining weft. "A few years at most—the damage is not too great before." She glared at Skuld.

"Lady Urd, I do not understand," said Frigga quietly as she descended the stairs, shooting a nervous look to her sons.

The Norn smiled. "My dear child, do not be anxious. Verthandi must undo her work and start again. What has passed these last years will fade away into the nothingness of having never been. And your new futures will be woven according to Yggdrasil's will and our design—Skuld's interpretations will be erased."

"Then all that has transpired these past few weeks will be gone?" asked Thor, moving close to Loki's side.

Urd nodded. "It will never have been."

Loki didn't think to be annoyed as a comforting hand rested on his shoulder. His time on Earth was going to be undone—all the trials, and insights—gone. Book would vanish from his life. He felt the pressure of a shaggy head against his palm as the boy butted up underneath his hand, leaning against his side. It seemed he had realized the implications of Urd's words as well. They would never meet. An advantage to Book—but for Loki…a loss immeasurable.

"Please." Thor spoke, head bowed humbly. His tone was one of beseechment. "Do not take my brother from me again."

Loki blinked as if to clear the image away. It couldn't be possible that Thor would ever bend his head to anyone in supplication. Ritually perhaps. In acknowledgement or honor, but never as supplicant. The image grew stranger still as the crown prince of Asgard dropped to his knees before the Norn.

Loki cleared his throat in discomfort. "Get up."

Thor gave his head a firm shake. He raised his eyes to Urd, but not his head. "Please."

Compassion radiated from her small form as she seemed to glide over the floor to stand in front of the kneeling Thunderer. "You have a great heart, child of Asgard. A strong heart." A tiny hand cupped his cheek. "One strong enough to bear even this."

His shoulders slumped at the Norn's words.

Across the hall, Verthandi scuttled amongst the threads, plucking and testing them until she found just the right ones. She snipped through threads with a pinch between two sharpened nails. Between the cut and snarl, the lights died. What had pulsed with energy fell silent and crumbled away into nothingness.

The Weaver looked up, specifically holding Skuld's eyes, and started to unravel her work. Unease whispered through the masses, punctuated by startled screams as the hall around them began to fade away, growing dim and sheer. A scream suddenly cut off as the owner simply vanished, a hole in the crowd. Fear swirled into anger and panic as people began to slip away with the palace or fall out of existence entirely.

"Children of Asgard!" Odin proclaimed from the dais, standing tall and regal. "Remember who we are."

The crowd latched onto silence, holding fast to it even as those around them disappeared. The silence only added to the unnaturalness of it all as a vast white nothingness devoured the floor beneath them and the heavens above.

"Please, let me bid him farewell," said Skuld as she looked at her sisters. The hall continued to unravel around them, whiteness eating up the pillars, people fading into the vast blankness of it all. There was a swirl of red as Thor reached for Loki, but his fingers vanished even as Loki stretched out. Verthandi gave a quick pluck at a snarl of threads and Thor's pleading eyes were swallowed by the whiteness.

"Sisters, please!" begged Skuld.

Urd lowered her gaze sadly. "You haven't much time."

Skuld sent a grateful smile to her sister and knelt before Loki, gripping him by the shoulders. "This is not what I wished for you. We were writing a new story." A dark tear traced down her cheek.

"Will you...will you look after Book?" asked Loki. The furred presence at his side faded away leaving a wretched chill in its place as his fingers suddenly grasped at nothing.

Skuld nodded. "His thread does not mingle with the greater weft; I will see that Verthandi weaves him a less tragic path."

"Skuld! The unweaving!" snapped Verthandi, a green thread twinned through her fingers.

Loki glanced at his hands—or rather, through them. Already the tips of his fingers were fading, the nothingness spiraling up his arms.

"There is no time. I am sorry," Skuld brushed back his hair and pressed her lips to his forehead. A strange nothingness settled vaguely in his stomach, spreading outwards. He was only aware of the wet pressure of Skuld's lips against his skin. The world began to narrow as whiteness crept along the edges of his vision. The last thing he saw was Skuld's face, her lips tinged black as a drip of blood trailed from the corner.

"Make mischief my little trickster," she whispered, her words fading into the void. "Make mischief."

A/N: The Norns were all a great deal of fun to imagine, especially since they're rather different from one another. We also get to see that while they may be higher beings, they're not without their own flaws—though it seems Loki bringing this out is perhaps the one exception to eons of working together relatively smoothly.

I also have a confession to make. Many of you have commented on how much you like the OC's in this story and that it wasn't self-insertion the way many are. Well I was thinking about it and…it kinda is self-insertion. After a fashion. I think it was TripleLLL who—somewhat jokingly-called it way back in an early chapter that I was the creature Loki merely thought of as She. I'm Skuld. But then, I think all of us who are writers are—we dictate the fates of our characters and yet if we have done our job correctly in creating them, we can't just force them to do whatever we want. We love them and yet we put them through Hell because they're "our favorite." We break them, often in order to get them on a better path—they don't know it and they suffer in the meantime, but we know it's worth it because we can see the plot from above. So, at least as far as our characters (or the ones we're borrowing) are concerned, we writers are The Scrivener.

Next Week: Loki ignores the niggling sense of deja vu as watches from atop Stark tower as the Chitauri invasion unfold.

RedHood001: True, it's frustrating when the Asgardians don't trust Loki, but trust is an incredibly fragile thing. And it doesn't help that Loki is a known liar and manipulator (and they don't have advantage of seeing his journey over the past year or so). Haha, YES! Book and Sleipnir would be amazing together. Kind of makes me want to write a one shot or something centered around them.

Emily83: Awww…thank you! It's always a good thing to hear that my work has been devoured. Makes me think I cooked up something worthwhile (or at least tasty 😉).