12.

. . .

"Ma'am." The small, green fae rapped at the door, sticking her head in. Ambassador Imda set down the secure nanographene tablet, still a bit too small for her giantess hand but she made do, and she looked over at the wee creature and her nervous wings. They made her nervous, these very tiny fae. She was going to step on one someday, and she had no idea what the paperwork between her two Queens - Farbauti and Aelsa - was going to look like when that happened. "Ma'am, diplomatic visitor."

"Send them in," said Imda. She smoothed the fold of her old tunic with two fingers, a meditative gesture she learned from her old teacher, a mute giant that even now served at their queen's side, and looked up as her guest entered. Then her eyebrows arched up, sharp and dark, all the way to the knots of her ink black hair. "In a rush to Midgard, in a rush right back. Might've at least had a meal there, Prince of Odin, though that you honor the promise we spoke before the Queen is a great relief to me."

"Food is, if not quite exactly the last thing on my mind, distanced enough to matter to someone other me's stomach in an entirely other dimension. Does that make sense?"

She leaned back on her bench and looked at the narrow young man with his tired eyes. She knew what he was, of course, and thought that odd little truth fit, considering what she saw at her Queen's side. She herself never made a decision on him one way or the other before, why bother? Never met the man till now. "A bit obscured, Prince Loki, but I think I've got the shape of your meaning. I was present at the first offer of charges against your brother, you should know. The Queen likes to have her audiences while the feymen speak their troubles to her. I know where this began. In the inn of Verdurois, where he met the Queen's watchman first over food and drink."

"You see, that's very interesting you say that to what I say, very interesting." Prince Loki's eyes gained a glint of wry wildness to them. "Others might have said this began with the meeting of this possible Oberonese agent, this Mooar."

She steepled her fingers together before her, deciding that she liked this quarter pint of a giant after all. If nothing else, it was clear he could see better than most, and that was valuable. "Well, I'm sure whatever I say isn't any proof of some dark conspiracy. It's only a fact of the timeline."

"Oh yes. As it stands, that's all it is. Again, our mutual friend Leamhan might say a good watchman for the Queen attempted to intercept a potential problem a day before a planned contact, and to his great despair, he could not succeed. Word to word, and what proof there is yet in hand doesn't rip his tongue from his mouth."

Imda rested her wrists on the desk she'd brought from home, a thick stone slab resting on borrowed Elven lattice-steel. It was the incongruity she liked. Like this conversation, jagged and sharp and going in at least three different directions at once. Much like talking to Farbauti. "Proof is a dear currency, and oft hard to come by." She tilted her head. "Regrettably, as an ambassador and as a friend to two great Queens, I am not such a banker that I may help as I might choose to when another is in trouble."

"Of course not. But everyone has their own value, and a word between certain people might have a richness that others lack." Loki was watching her. "Regardless. If I were going to ask your ladyship anything, it might be to ensure the boundaries of the promise made before the Queen. I've gone, and yes, I've come back quicker than I planned. But I'm still no help to anyone kept here in the palace, and I might go so far as to say I'm not as helpful as I could be if I had to remain solely in the capital. The option to move through Alfheim would be… useful."

"All Elves are children of the Queen, and her word lays over the realm like the sky." It was an old saying, meant to comfort the young. In this context, Imda meant something else. A guarantee, of sorts. Loki's face said he understood, and he was listening very carefully. "I think I would not be remiss to say that if I had, as in fact I did, advocated before the Queen for your honor, and that it was suggested to me that you did not need to remain in Midgard but now must instead step beyond this city to do what you vouch is your work, then it would then be up to my discretion to continue to advocate for your freedom. For a road of Alfheim is much closer to us here than the strange sprawl of a human city. I think if, say, my word were challenged by another's word, I would win that challenge. I am confident in that. If it even occurred to that other to make that challenge."

He studied her, his face tense but grateful. He did not miss the risk she was taking - on the behalf of two realms. A third if she included Asgard itself. And to be honest, she usually didn't. It was a personal dislike she was still working on. "Ambassador Imda, I formally ask for your discretion in this matter, that you might continue to advocate for my freedom at the risk of your honor. I will continue to guard that honor as best I may, as I did with my quick return, and with that vow meant for Queen Farbauti, whom I have the utmost respect."

Imda studied Loki, and thought of her Queen's recent request. She knew perfectly well what Farbauti would like to see come out of this. "You have what you ask, Prince Loki." She crossed her arms across her desk and leaned forward, still looking down at him but with a much slighter lean than she needed for her fae attendants. She grinned, a big one that spread across the rich azure of her face. This part was simply for her own sake. "And a moment to speak plain."

"Of course."

"Just between us, don't be alone with a single son of a bitch in this place if you can help it."

He blinked at the sudden and easy familiarity, backing his way towards the door in that polite and noble way the Asgardians had. "Hard lesson learned?"

She rolled her eyes and picked her tablet up again by way of a wave goodbye. There were diplomatic missives to check off, and maybe a cup of that good wine. "I miss my father's old farming caves. You never saw the hanging mosses screwing each other over for a bolt of diamondweave silk, just to score points at the latest royal soiree. That said, young prince, it does make for a good show - if you're clever enough to keep your head above the fray."

. . .

The ambassador's vow didn't exactly give him a badge of access, but a good grimace and a snarl would get Loki to most places within the palace. And the rest, here and beyond its walls? Oh, well, he had plenty of tricks for that. He might not have slipped the guards and run between the worlds back when he had the chance, but so long as he were mindful of at least a couple of rules, he certainly wasn't going to let a good shadow go unused where necessary.

Therefore his first priority after leaving the giantess was the obvious one. Alfheim was not as militaristic as other realms. Their guards were good, but there weren't godless countless mobs of them. So it was an easy thing to slip his way down to the lower floors and their better cells, the places where drunk dwarves who insulted the wrong fairy baronet slept it off, or where a white stag waited for his curse to wear off, or the entire gilded wing where King Oberon had been held, yet made of it a small court of his own for his century away.

Thor's cell would be a very fine one, then, because Aelsa would have demanded that. Can't treat the ascendant son of the nine realms worse than a refugee liege. That meant Loki walked into the Lapis Wing, a gaudy little place whose security consisted of the mundane check-in post with its ledgers and sleepy guards, and also a veil of butterfly-light dust, enchanted to spark into screaming life if it were disturbed by an unauthorized visitor.

It also meant the good invisibility spell, that's all. And for having let matters get this far, Loki wasn't about to begrudge the energy. He slipped through the guards and the glitter with a saunter and a rude gesture on principle, then padded his way down the hall and around its private corners until he spotted Thor sitting on the ground with his legs crossed like a child, rhythmically throwing a ball he must have cadged off a warden against the wall.

Ba-dum-tump.

Ba-dum-TuMP. "Hm," said Thor. "Better velocity."

Ba-dump-PHUMP! "Too strong," was that verdict. Loki noticed a slight dent beginning to form in the wall, underlining Thor's words.

"Exciting," said Loki, instead of hello, or my god man, are you alright? or I'm sorry brother. He couldn't quite get any of that out of his mouth, so he went with his usual dry bullshit.

The ball stopped. Thor swiveled his head to look at him, and a big grin appeared. "Loki!"

Loki blinked. He hadn't exactly expected happiness. It drove him briefly mute.

"Leamhan tried to ploy me, say you left without regard. But I've watched you at your calls with your friends. Something happened, of course. And now you're back, just as I told him you'd be."

Not a trace of cynicism or doubt. No bitterness, not in that sunny grin.

"I don't think Leamhan liked my confidence in that. And I know by now something's odd there."

"Yes," Loki said, managing that much under the blaze. "Yes, I quite think you're right."

"I'm sure we need to deal with that. Are your friends all right?"

Loki looked around for something to sit on, found a stool smaller than he'd like near the edge of the cell wall. He didn't bother to move it, just dropped onto it unceremoniously, looking at the small sparkles and little mosses living in the floor. "I've had to… recuse myself from the situation." He licked his lips.

"Loki, I'm so-"

"I had to make a choice. I'm… it shouldn't have taken as long as it did. But I'm sure they'll resolve the matter successfully without me." He tried to make it sound confident. SHIELD had long survived disasters before him and even involving him. They'd thrive on this one, too, so his faith was with his friends. But nonetheless, the little pang from guilt's knife took some of the air from his voice. The knife that had been there all along. "You shouldn't be in there. I don't know why you're ruddy apologizing to me."

Silence, at first.

"I don't think it's funny, Thor. You being in there instead of me, not this time." He realized he was being defensive about something that clearly hadn't happened, and yet he couldn't stop doing it.

"Quit hammering yourself over it, brother."

Loki glanced up, eyes narrowing.

Thor was still sitting on the floor, grinning in that dumb way he had that wasn't ever actually dumb, Loki privately knew, merely easy and approachable. "Pun was intended." The ball flexed in his hands. Loki could see its abuse now, the way the polymers had torn and pitted. That's what happened to the playthings of gods. "You've been here before, brother, in cells, for situations that aren't always fully clear and maybe aren't always the right reasons. And it's not exactly the same thing, but I feel right in thinking that in all the ways you might pick on me or Odin or anyone else for the things you've lived, you wouldn't go for something that would remind you this much of what you had to survive. Not anymore."

Loki continued to watch him.

"Cells are awful, Loki. Not much to do in here but think." Squeeze, went the polymer ball. There were little glittery bits in the plastics, and they caught the light. "Would bend anyone."

"Leamhan's not trusted by the Queen. She won't back his case if I can find proof that he's done this to you, likely at someone else's request. That's how I get you out of this."

Thor cocked his head. It was obvious what Loki was doing, diverting away from a touchy topic. But he was trying to do it in a way that mattered, that got across what he felt, if not what he would say. "You think he's actually Oberonese."

Loki leaned back on the stool. "I'm no longer comfortable making any assumption without proof. I simply haven't been here." He raised a hand before Thor could protest. "I know. So let's try to take this fault as a positive. I'm coming at this with outside eyes now. Let me think aloud with you. I've got multiple people and multiple factions to consider. Asgard, Alfheim. Our princes, their Queen, the Oberonese, other sides? There's multiple Elven houses jockeying for royal favor every time you turn around, and three different courts if we count Titania's personal one. Aelsa lets them do it, possibly because their nonsense keeps them out of her hair. Why that's important to her, I don't know. That's tangential. The point is, you are currently in the safest place in Alfheim, and I've got the freedom now to move around on your behalf. So I have to start close. That means caging Leamhan instead, in due time - and finding that Mooar, see what he knows about this."

"Leamhan's currently trying to question me. He's circling around, but he's still trying to play to my emotions. The problem is, even knowing that, I'm sure he can twist what I say to his use. Possibly even with an audience."

That one was easy. Loki grinned. "Demand Lady Adenium's presence at all further meetings with Leamhan and any of his associates. If anyone fights you, play your nobility up. The Queen'll back it."

"A thistle burr in the arse would be gentler than that little fae."

"Yes, but the Queen trusts this wee red burr. She told me that much outright, so let's use it to protect you, meanwhile. She might be a better ally than you think."

Thor nodded, accepting that. "Mooar's not an archivist, but he is a private clerk. Leamhan suggested his faction, but let's ignore that. He travels regularly to the outer libraries like the one we visited, but he'll be city-based."

"If what he told you of what he does is true."

"He knew the library's politics, and the advice he gave me was solid enough. You said so yourself. I know you're starting from low trust, Loki, but I think many of these people are the type to lie from a truth. As Leamhan did. I thought about that a lot."

Loki frowned, looking past his brother's head and taking that in. Yes, he would agree with that. It was a particularly slick way to distort things, and it ran certain tactical risks. Only so much you could blur the line between false and true before running into a corner - and he knew where all those little nooks could be. All right, he thought. Let's file that into the tactics shelf. "I'll start in Parchment Row. It's where most of the clerks originate, even the factioned ones. They've an academy there, one that's always fighting with the libraries for sane access."

"Gods, is it called that?" Thor's face scrunched.

"Yeah, sometimes they skip imagination and go straight to simply overbuilding the place. The Row's a mess. Can find some terrific rare tomes, though, if you've got the time." Loki shook his head and rose from the bench. "Sadly, I don't. All right, any questions? I've got to go before the guards take evening watch."

"You think Leamhan enchanted my mead?"

The question surprised Loki. "Back in the village? No. Rules. If we'd been mere ugly tourists and that orbweaver I pointed out to you had gotten her nose out of joint, then yes, we'd probably be up in the hills wondering why we're half goat now."

"Then how did that stone get on me? I had his, yes. But the mark of Oberon… if it happens that Mooar didn't plant it on me, then how did it get in my pouch?"

"Damn good question. Very damn good question, Thor. I'll see if I can find out."