THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO READS AND REVIEWS THIS FIC!

Beta: Zerubel

This chapter is somewhat more filler-esque than I had intended the comeback chapter to be after the holidays, but it was a joy to write. For the most part. Sometimes.

Ok maybe not.

But! It turned out well enough, so lets not get into the dubiousness of that former statement.

I don't really have anything to say about this chapter really, so let's just get on with it.

(Also, you may have noticed that the AN is all in bold now. I thought it might help anyone who would prefer to skip them, so that's what I'm doing from now on)

Enjoy.

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It reminded him of Bogdon. Not the castle itself, but the acres of magically-hidden land surrounding it. And yet, at the same time, it was completely foreign.

Jotunheim was a strange mix of jutting ice and vast fields of snow. The snow covered everything, but everywhere he looked there were random spires of ice and sections of it that were comparable to boulders. Some actual boulders too- though the ice ones outnumbered them heavily. He couldn't see the ground beneath the frost. A strong wind blew, bringing with it a harsh, grating whisper, like a warning he couldn't quite hear, and snow fell from a sky that was entirely obscured by dark grey clouds.

Really, it was a little depressing, but in all honesty Harry much prefered it to the heat of Muspelheim.

He'd worn his cloak and his armor, but not bothered with any magical means of keeping him warm. The cold in Britain had never particularly bothered him, and while it was harsher, the cold here didn't either.

Heimdall had dropped him in a barren place, on a chunk of ice as large as the helicarrier, and told him to start heading west to find the Jotuns. So he did, casting spells on his boots to keep them from sinking into the snow too much, and another to keep him from slipping. Then he trotted along in silence with nothing but the wind, the crunch of his boots, and the shifting sound of his scimitar moving against his hip as he stepped to interrupt it. He didn't even have Tom's voice to keep him company (he could feel him though, their connection weakened by them being in different worlds, but not so much that Harry couldn't sense him at all).

The cooling charms built into his cloak were enough to protect the snake from the heat of the fiery realm, but there were no warming charms there to do the same in Jotunheim. Oh, he could have opened the connection between their minds wider to allow for them to talk through realms, sure, but that would include giving the former Dark Lord more access to his thoughts than he was comfortable doing (because he wasn't confident in his ability to close it back up once they were closer again). He was only just beginning to trust him, only just starting to think of him, tentatively, as a sort of cross between mentor and friend.

But that trust and care did not extend far enough for such an undertaking. Not yet.

Which meant that for his trip to this realm, and his meeting with the frost giants, Harry was entirely on his own.

He wasn't sure how to feel about that.

On the one hand, having Tom with him back in Muspelheim was like constantly feeling someone looking over your shoulder, checking your work and making corrections where needed. When the snake offered his assistance Harry inevitably felt watched. On the other hand, Tom's advice was trustworthy and sound, and he appreciated having that safety net. Appreciated knowing that there was someone more knowledgeable, more experienced than himself, ready to pick up on anything he might miss or screw up.

So without him, he was caught somewhere between relief at finally being alone, and anxiety that he may not be politically-competent enough to handle things without help.

Regardless, it wouldn't immediately be a problem.

Heimdall had sent him far enough away from the frost giants that they would only just be able to sense the use of the bifrost, which would let them know someone was coming, but it would take him a bit to reach them. He'd have to camp for at least one night, the All-Seeing Asgardian had warned him, even if he ran, which was precisely what he intended to do soon enough. That time would hopefully make them more curious than hostile, or at least enough so that they would ask him what he wanted rather than attacking him straightaway (and he'd been warned that that was very much a possibility).

Hopefully, anyways.

He waited until he'd gotten off the sheet of ice he was on, and then he shifted, everything growing and moving into new positions, the usual sounds seeming softer among the empty snow. He stood there for a moment, black scales and fur standing starkly against the white and blue of the world he was in. He turned his head skyward, sniffing the air and feeling the ice on his snout. His tail slid through snow, and he closed his eyes. There was a moment, just one, however small, where something clicked and felt right inside him. It felt good to be in this world. Then whatever fit right slid apart again, he dropped his head and opened his eyes, and moved.

He made his way west on all fours.

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Mishipeshu, while being mainly aquatic, seemed to practically be built for travelling over ice and snow. His paws were large enough to spread his weight a little, the webbing between his toes somehow helping to keep him from sinking in, and his claws were just sharp enough to dig in and grant him purchase over the slippery ice. He made his way over the hills and valleys of Jotunheim, passing cliffs and a frozen lake where something dark moved under the surface, eyeing spires of ice in the far distance, and jagged mountains even further than that. Once he passed near a huge hulking creature he nearly hadn't been able to see, as its white coat blended into the snow. He got the sense it had noticed him (and his black and silver scales were like a flashing neon sign in this place), but it left him be, so he passed it without stopping to investigate.

The sky remained cloudy, though the snow eventually stopped. He couldn't see the sun, but at some point it began to get darker and darker, until even his sharp eyes struggled to see the details of anything in the distance. That was when he decided to stop for the night, digging a den for himself into the snow, and snuggling into it, his hot flesh melting the inside into a smooth sheen and turning it almost into a cave. He didn't bother to change back, and instead simply curled up, tucking his nose under the fin of his tail, and fell asleep.

He dreamed of the merpeople, of all things, and of napping beneath the waters of Black Lake, while Grindylows played with his swishing tail and braided shells into his mane.

In the morning he had to dig his way out (the snow had resumed at some point during the night, and clogged up the entrance to his den), and the world looked much brighter. It was snowing again, but the wind had eased, and he made his way onwards. After some time he came to a large hill, and when he made his way to the top, he finally could see more spires, these more uniform and less natural, near the base of a mountain on the horizon, and he knew he would make it there before nightfall.

He picked up the pace, pushing himself until he tired and then slowing until his energy returned. He wondered, after a point, if Mishipeshu were migratory, because despite the near-constant travel, he didn't tire much. Then he wondered to himself if he would find any of the large cats if he ever went to Antarctica, even though it wasn't listed as one of the places they were known to live. Maybe he couldn't run forever, but Harry could walk for hours on end without stopping or feeling the need to stop; except to answer nature's call or change back to eat some of the bread or jerky he'd packed. When he grew closer to what he vaguely recognized as being a settlement of some sort (it looked too small to count as a city, but the ice spires were far too tall for anything like a village), he slowed but, on a whim, didn't immediately shift back.

He probably should have, but this was the longest he'd been able to move about in his animagus form since the twins' last transformation (and though he was terrified their next change would be as horrible as the last one, he was somewhat looking forward to the chance to run free through Asgard's giant trees again), and he was loathe to go back to being human so soon. The mishipeshu was a part of him. Its form was as natural and welcome as his human skin, but it was also a form he wasn't often able to indulge in. It was too large for him to change into inside most buildings, and too frightening for him to naturally stay in around most people.

He slowed as he neared the edge of settlement until he was walking, his paws crunching in the snow and his tail left to fall close enough to brush lines in it it as it waved without completely dragging. He studied the spires as he looked for signs of life. They towered over his head, and were vaguely rectangular, like large outcroppings of crystal; except there was something unnatural about them. They didn't look like buildings, but they didn't look naturally formed. He couldn't be sure though, perhaps they'd just been carved. Here and there were markings inlaid into the bases that looked like writing. More runes maybe? Not any kind he'd ever seen, and that made him itch to look closer, but he kept to his ground on which they stood was stone, and while there was snow, there was little of it. Someone had brushed the bulk of it away to make it easier to walk. That was proof enough that people had been here recently.

He couldn't find them at first, but he knew they were there. He could smell living things here, and as he walked through the spires, he kept seeing shadows move out of the corner of his eyes. He could see nothing when he looked, but they were there, hiding. He knew they were. As he went farther, he swore he would occasionally see blue faces ducking back into shadow and behind stone, and the infrequent humanoid silhouette through ice, but he kept walking.

Then, abruptly, he found himself snout-to-face with one, when they quite literally tripped in front of him. The blue body stumbled from the shadows onto the ground at his feet, a dropped spear skittering away across the stone, and Harry blinked as the Jotun pushed up onto their hands and knees, and wide red eyes looked up at him in fear.

It was a young one, perhaps an older teen. A fledgling warrior? He wondered. He thought it was a young man, but his features were a little ambiguous so the animagus wasn't sure. His face and bare chest were covered in the same sort of symmetrical lines and shapes he had seen on Loki, and for a long moment, they both froze in place. He clearly had not meant to trip out of the shadows, and he looked utterly terrified of Harry. The animagus himself was slightly bewildered, until he remembered that he had yet to change back.

In hindsight, that may not have been the best idea.

He took a step forward, and the youth flinched. Another, and a second young Jotun emerged from the same hiding place, holding a spear pointed in Harry's direction. The tip shook, and he looked just as frightened as his compatriot, but-

But there was a determination to protect alongside his terror that Harry could very much respect.

Slowly, he drew his tail forward until the end was in front of him. They both seemed to hold their breath. He brought the fin near the Jotun on the ground, and his friend took a step forward, shaking even more than before. Some of the shadows shifted, and Harry got the sense that many others were watching- But he didn't think any of them would interfere. He pushed his fin against the fallen youth's chest, and the young male instinctively grabbed onto it, looking panicked when he realized he had done so. Harry pushed him upwards to his feet, paused, and then drew his tail away. The male's hands had been colder than the ice around them. It made him think a little of the way Loki's cell would frost over when he was upset and his glamours were down.

The second young man's mouth fell open slightly, the tip of his spear dropping with it. His friend who had tripped was holding one hand to his chest, looking at the mishipeshu before him with wide eyes, still frightened but equally bewildered. Harry swiped his tail against the fallen spear, sending it rolling along the ground to its owner's feet. The jotun picked it up without taking his eyes off the beast before him. Harry let himself sit down, and stayed there, tall and as regal as cats tended to be, and very clearly waiting expectantly.

Slowly, hesitantly, more figures began to come out from the shadows. None of them ventured close at first, simply shifting into view and keeping their backs to the spires. They all held spears, and though they didn't point them at him, several held them in a way that told him they were prepared to, if he gave them a reason. There were only a couple other younger ones. Most of them were older, with appearances like those in their twenties or thirties, with a few even older warriors mixed in. They all had blue skin, ranging from bright cobalt to navy in color, all red-eyed, and most of them hairless (there was, however, the occasional exception- the young Jotun who had fallen, for instance, had cropped black hair, and there was an older one in the crowd with long locks tied into braids- he wondered if that meant it was rare to grow any, or if they just tended to shave their heads). They were all dressed more or less the same; angular leathery pants and kilt-like garments with metal bits attached. Most of them had matching bracers. Some had shoulder guards, others had boots while he noted many bare feet. There were a small handful with horned helmets. Only one of them stood out from the rest-

Because she was the only woman- And, for that matter, the only one wearing anything over her torso- a leathery tunic that was much rougher in design than the other garments. They were all basic and utilitarian, but sleek and well-made; her shirt, well-worn and ripped at the edges, only just big enough to cover her breasts, looked rather out of place. Her skin was a sort of pale teal color (the lightest of any of them), and she wasn't particularly beautiful, but her pointed features were striking. There was a fierceness to her that poked his instincts; like an icy storm given a living form. Harry's attention zeroed in on her immediately, and the warriors closest to her raised their spears. She lifted a hand, and they paused. When she let it fall back to her side they lowered them again, faces skeptical and casting wary glances Harry's way.

She alone came near Harry, pausing just outside the range of his tail and motioning the two youths away. He noted that she was barefooted and, unlike her fellows, didn't hold a weapon. The two young ones scrambled back, relieved to get away from the animagus, and ducked back behind a few of the older warriors.

Unblooded, the thought came to him unbidden as he watched them retreat, and he shook himself internally.

"What business have you here, shadow-guardian?" The woman spoke, voice deep and commanding, and Harry tilted his head slightly at the address she gave him. Then he met and held her ruby gaze, and changed back. There were gasps and murmurs, and many of the warriors stepped even farther back or hefted their spears. But at the end, when Harry stood there human (mostly) and half their size, they looked more incredulous than fearful, and he smiled.

He wasn't sure when he'd gotten to the point of enjoying these sorts of dramatics, but it was incredibly entertaining to surprise people.

"I am King Harry Black, of Niflheim." There was silence at his declaration, some faces immediately looking disbelieving, others awed. "You are Jotunheim's Queen?" He could tell that she was, almost instinctively.

"Skadi." She introduced herself. He dipped his head.

"Queen Skadi. I come here to speak with you, and to deliver a message on behalf of King Surtur of Muspelheim." Several of the warriors again broke out in whispers at this, and Queen Skadi herself looked rather surprised. She tilted her head back slightly, looking down her nose at him, eyeing the way he stood there with confidence he only half felt. She took in his small size, thin clothes and leathery cloak and the way the cold didn't bother him in the least, and she frowned.

"You really are the Home-Ruler." Her voice was quiet and barely heard, and it wasn't a question but a sort of- not a declaration, but more like a soft-spoken realization. She nodded, seemingly more to herself than anything else. "Come with me, and we will have words." She turned away and began walking without a second glance at him, waving off the warriors who moved to follow. They stood, watching the two of them go, and Harry glanced back only once at their worried and confused faces.

He thought they looked a bit lost.

Queen Skadi led him through a gap between two of the spires that was like a sort of hallway that twisted back behind them and branched out, and then, after a few turns, down under the snow and ice. They went down a slope into the ground, and Harry immediately understood why the spires hadn't really had the look of buildings. It was because they weren't. The Jotuns lived underground. The spires, if they served any sort of practical purpose, only let others know there were ice giants living here-

And even if they existed for some other reason, that one alone made a lot of sense. They were tall enough to be seen from a far distance, and to never wind up buried no matter how much it snowed. He wondered how many other underground cities there were here, and if they used the spires as markers for travel like he was thinking.

But there were more pressing things to focus on just then.

The slopes had ended, apparently, and they came to a staircase. Queen Skadi went down several steps before stopping and looking back up, having realizing that Harry hadn't moved to follow. She opened her mouth to ask, and then paused, looking between him and the steps as she realized the problem. The steps were a little steeper than most, even for the Jotun, because they had to go down quickly, but for Harry...

Her cheeks turned a little purple, and he thought she might be embarrassed to not have thought about the fact that Harry was all of 5 and a half feet tall and she was literally twice his size, and as such his small stature might make something easy for her like this a little difficult for him. With her blushing he was struck by the fact that, fierce-looking as a storm or not, she was also very young-looking. He wasn't sure if Jotuns aged the same way as humans, but if they did then he and her would likely be about the same age (he doubted though that that was really the case. Jotuns were likely very long-lived like the Asgardians and Eldjotnar). She opened her mouth and he thought she was going to apologize.

He decided to save her the trouble.

The steps came almost to her calf, but on him, they rose to the lower half of his thighs, and so stepping down wasn't really an option. Instead he sat right down and slid forward like he'd seen some first-years do at Hogwarts just for the hell of it, until he slid off the end and dropped to his feet atop the next step (like slipping off a barstool where your feet didn't touch the ground). Then he did the same thing for the one after that, and the one after that, before pausing.

He looked up. Skadi's expression was very tight and serious, but her cheeks were an even darker shade of purple and he thought it was because she was trying not to laugh. He gave her a pointed look, just daring her to make a comment about how ridiculous he knew he had to look just then, but instead she turned around and stepped onto the next stair, moving much more slowly to compensate for his cautious pace (he did not want to fall and bust his nose or slip wrong and smack his bum against the hard-packed gray stone the stairs were made of).

They made it to the bottom without speaking a word to each other, and then down one more hallway to a room that was relatively small.

Oh it was plenty big enough to Harry, but he doubted more than three Jotuns could settle comfortably within without feeling claustrophobic. There were shelves on the walls with thin stone tablets stacked neatly and set into them, with a few atop a sort of rectangular table in the center of the room that had two slight indentations in the floor on either side of it. Queen Skadi moved to one side of it, and sat down on the one indentation, and Harry realized the shape was just right to fit a very large bottom. He followed her example and sat down in the other, too big though it was, crossed his legs, and looked up at her.

He had to applaud her ability to keep her composure, given that while the table came up to just below her chest, a perfect height really, it was as tall as Harry's shoulders. Her face didn't even turn violet this time, although she smiled at him in a friendly way, and said smile looked far too pleased.

He felt like a damned child here, and he frowned at her like a petulant one. She only looked even more amused.

Harry pulled King Surtur's missive from the pocket of his cloak, reached up, having to lift off his butt a bit to do so, and slapped the scroll-message down atop what he now realized was a desk. He had gotten so used to everything being completely fantastical and foreign, that it was somewhat disconcerting to find himself in what he highly suspected was a personal office. He eyed the stone tablets everywhere, interspersed with scrolls made of what he realized was leather. She opened and began reading the scroll from Muspelheim, and he looked at a few of the ones on the desk. He couldn't see much from the angle he was at, but there was foreign writing on what he could see that resembled the markings on the spires above.

He supposed that it stood to reason that they would use stone and leather to hold their writing. He had yet to see any trees or other plant-life during his time here, so he didn't imagine paper was easy to come by. Then he frowned, and eyed the paper in her hands. They'd been inside for all the time that he'd been in Muspelheim, watched closely and not given leave to wander. He had yet to see the planet's surface, but he was hard-pressed to imagine much being able to grow with the level of heat in the air.

... But all the food had been made from plants (and had been good- he was half-tempted to go back just to ask to have dinner there, for all that he could never subsist entirely on that sort of food) so of course they had to be able to grow there. He wondered what they looked like whole, and how they grew-

Ah. Well, the smell of sulfur had been on the air constantly there, and Thor had told him when he asked that Muspelheim was covered in volcanoes and molten rock. Not particularly hospitable, but one of the few things he remembered from herbology was that volcanic soil was especially fertile, so he imagined that if they had found a way to keep the heat from destroying their crops or setting them aflame, and if they had water (which they must, because nothing could live without it- or at least not that he knew of), then it was probably very easy to grow large healthy plants of all sorts. Trees included.

But he was getting distracted again, and Queen Skadi had finished reading. She set the message down with a peculiar look on her face, and Harry had a short moment of foreboding where he wondered if it had been such a great idea that he hadn't read the message himself first (he'd been trying to be respectful, but tactically speaking-). Then she shook her head slightly, and the expression was replaced by another, different-but-equally-inscrutable one. He thought she maybe looked a little wary though.

"You came here to convince me not to go to war with Asgard." He wasn't sure what that tone of voice meant, but he didn't think it was anything good.

"I came here to convince you to be at peace. War does no one any good. It wouldn't be any better for you and your people than it would for the Aesir, worse even, because right now Asgard has the advantage."

"I see. You're not here on Odin's behalf then?" It wasn't quite the question she had wanted to ask, he could tell, but he made a guess and answered.

"I started all this initially because he asked, but I'm working as a mediator. I'm not taking sides." That made her look more at ease.

"Brother Surtur's letter says that Asgard is prepared to offer us use of the bifrost, for travel to Urd's Well and to other realms for trade."

"In exchange for half a millennia of peace, yes."

"And this contract would bind them to their word?"

"It would bind you all." She put a hand on her chin and bit her lip, looking thoughtful.

"And what about after that? What happens when the five hundred years are up?" Harry leaned back a little.

"You would re-negotiate. Either write up and sign another treaty, or go back to the way things are now. But that long will give you time to make connections, stabilize, trade and write up treaties with other realms. I imagine, if it goes well, then none of you, the Eldjotnar and Aesir included, will struggle overly much with agreeing to peace again." She dipped her head, still looking thoughtful.

"And use of the bifrost is all we gain from this?"

"Odin intends to formally apologize for his family's past actions against Muspelheim, and the death of Ymir, as well." She looked rather surprised at that. "Was there anything else you wished for?"

"Besides Odin's head on a spear?" The wizard shifted uncomfortably.

"Um, besides that, yes."

"I'll settle for his son's." She declared, anger on her face and in her voice. "The blood-traitor that killed our King." Harry went rigid. "His head is ours by right, and Odin has denied us that." She paused, but spoke again before he could respond. "The Casket of Ancient Winters, as well. It's ours and Odin stole it, and we have not been able to tame Jotunheim's wild heart enough to prosper ever since its taking."

"What is this Casket, exactly?" He addressed first, wary of this conversation taking a bad turn. The treaty was just as dependant on her cooperation as King Surtur's, and if she was dead-set on what she wanted... Well. Harry couldn't really afford to put Loki's well-being above a peace treaty that would affect three different planets and could save untold numbers of lives, but he'd rip this woman to shreds long before he'd hand any friend of his over to her to be killed. He wanted very much to declare exactly that, but if he addressed the other thing first, maybe he could put her off this one. Her eyes narrowed, but she answered him after a moment's hesitation.

"Winter's Casket is a device that allows us to wield and control the power and magic of Jotunheim. We once used it to calm the storms here enough to build our homes above-ground, to ease the cold enough to plant crops, and to twist the snow and ice into roads between our settlements for travel. It allowed us to manage Jotunheim's wild nature to help us live here more easily. It was a gift to us from the Norns themselves in the Beginning, just for that purpose." Skadi hesitated a moment, and then continued on. "Odin took it from us, because many years ago King Laufey attempted to use it as a weapon- to absorb power from Jotunheim, and then unleash that power on Midgard, to turn it into a land of ice as well."

"... To what end?"

"Territory. He believed that under the casket's power we were growing too prosperous. Our numbers were multiplying, and the king feared that we would grow too numerous for Jotunheim to support. We mostly feed off the creatures here, and they're limited in number. We were running out of food." She sighed. "Now we are running out of people. The storms come and go and they make it hard to hunt. We cannot grow much food, and many of our children starve to death. We are dying out because we do not have the manpower to gather enough food for our children and rather than be burdened with watching them starve, many have simply stopped having them. And then as everyone ages, our numbers drop even lower, and the cycle continues." Harry dipped his head, his tail lashing behind him at the revelation that Odin having kept this device from them, assuming she was being truthful, was pushing them, pushing an entire race, towards extinction.

"If you will sign the peace treaty, then I will bring you the casket, no matter Odin's opinion on the matter." And he would, once he spoke with the Allfather about the subject. If this woman was being honest with him, then he'd steal the thing from the vaults himself if he had to. It had the potential to be a weapon, yes, but she'd admitted that out-right to him; and if they signed the treaty, then they wouldn't be able to use it that way. She smiled, and then her eyes narrowed again.

"And Loki?"

"No. Him I cannot give you." She leaned back, crossing her arms and looking down at him. She was intimidating.

"You don't believe that Odin would give him up?"

"Loki, no matter his crimes, is the Allfather's child. Odin will never agree to hand him over to you. He'll protect him, and- forgive me, but this treaty would benefit you more than Asgard. Even if you were to decide you'll not sign without Loki being turned over, he won't do it, and he can afford to. If your people are dying, you can't."

"An infuriating answer, but also a political one." She bared her teeth at him. "And yet I get the sense that this particular subject means more to you than politics." He stiffened, and something victorious flashed in her eyes. She was observant, and Harry was not quite good enough at hiding his emotions to pass unnoticed under her gaze. "Odin isn't the only one protecting him." It was Harry's turn to bare his teeth, and she grinned at him without any humor in her gaze. "I'll make a bargain with you, Death-King. If you wish to keep your pet murderer safe from me, then fight me for him. Win and I and my people will leave him be, lose and I will hunt him down and kill him myself. A single death is, after all, not a declaration of war, and if I can take him and it can't be proven, then Asgard will have no choice but to accept a treaty with us regardless."

"You can't get to Asgard." He pointed out, apprehension curling down his spine regardless.

"You think there are not ways? True the paths are treacherous and well-hidden, but they are there and they can be found." She leaned closer, propping her elbows on the desk, her hands open and to the sides as though to appeal to him. "How much is he worth to you, Home-Ruler? Will you fight me for him, or not?" And Harry snarled and showed his fangs and answered with his heart and not his head (and those sorts of answers were foolish at best).

"I will."

Queen Skadi smiled grimly, and stood.

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After that she'd led him down more winding passages and slopes (but thankfully no more stairs), to a small empty room and left him there. A battle like this, she'd told him, was one to be witnessed; and so he was to wait there and prepare himself for it while she gathered her people to watch, and explained the stakes to them.

Harry was left alone with the thought in his mind that he was in over his head and not half as good a politician as Tom had told him he was.

But he could pace around the room wallowing about his own fuck-ups, or he could prepare to deal with the situation as it now was, like he'd been left to do.

He was already in his armor, but he checked it over, and he already had his new cloak, and the matching band on his tail, so that was good. He stretched and moved a bit, making sure it wouldn't interfere with his movements at all and that he was physically ready. He would have some trouble if he rolled, which he tended towards, and he would need to watch his feet if he had to duck too low. The cloak was cut so that when he stood it ended just past his knees, made short specifically so it wouldn't trip him up; but it still could if he was closer to the ground like he would be if he bent low. He'd need to be careful about that.

He'd brought his sword thinking he wouldn't need it, but now he would, so he pulled it from the sheath and checked the sharpness. There were spells on it to ensure it stayed that way, but it was compulsive. It was perfect, of course, and he put it back. Then he pushed magic into one of his bracers, and pulled out one of the many things he'd taken to keeping in them- The only other truly useful item he'd created from runes aside from Metis' band and his new cloak.

It was a metal cylinder an inch and a half wide and six inches long that was silver in color and covered in barely noticable marks and symbols. He held it out in front of him, ran a thumb along it, and it stretched at each end until he held a spear in his hand. He smiled at it once it was there. His thought, when he'd created it, had been that spears were large and too cumbersome to carry everywhere the way he could with a sword strapped to his hip. But he'd started growing accustomed to using one, through Sif's training, and he'd managed to practice a few times on his own without his glamours, and it came easier to him then. So he'd considered ways to make one that he could keep on him at all times, and had come up with this.

Then his smile fell and he started running through spells and things he'd read in Moody's book, pacing around the room with his spear in hand. He didn't know if there were going to be rules- if he would be allowed to use his magic or not- but he hoped he would. Queen Skadi was twice his size, and likely stronger and faster than he was, and he had no idea how skilled she was. He would need to keep her from getting close enough to exercise the advantages he knew she had, both so that he could keep her from winning and so he could get a chance to observe her from a distance and judge what she could do.

If he could use his magic for this, then he would be relying on it heavily to help him win. If he couldn't... Then he wasn't going to win.

It was a sobering thought.

He wondered what he could do, and then, hesitantly, he opened the connection to Tom. Less than a full day ago he'd been considering that he wasn't willing to open it this far, that he didn't trust the former dark lord enough for it. But his options were limited at the moment.

Tom? It was disconcerting that he could feel the serpent's shock.

What's happened? It was even more so to know that Tom could feel his own distress. The animagus swallowed and did his best to ignore the emotion and half-thoughts and bits of sound and sight coming through from the other, and pretend the bond was no more than it had been before.

Can you get Loki out? If it comes to it, can you and the twins and Moo help him escape? There was silence, a whirl of emotion and thought and the sense of scales sliding over stone. Can you do it without anyone knowing you're involved?

Heimdall will see-

I think he'll forgive it. More thoughts and then-

If I can get them to agree to work with me, then I think so. But why- Harry sent the memory of his meeting with Skadi along, and Tom reeled back from the connection- trying to make sense of it- actually making sense of it- there was a shuddering sort of- something- and then a sort of anger but not- I think she planned it. Harry blinked.

What?

She wants him dead, that's genuine yes, and you could have handled it better, but I think part of it was intentional. She wants to test your mettle. I'm not sure- I could be wrong. But we'll handle it now. You want us to get him out if you lose, yes? There was nothing judgemental, no thoughts that he was being dishonorable, just a swirl of half-form ideas about how to accomplish the task-

Yes.

And after that? What do we do with him? Do you truly believe he can be trusted? Harry hesitated.

Yes. He's told me about spaces between worlds- openings he knows about and how to slip through. Tell him what's going on if you have to- if it comes to it- and then take him to Bogdon. Tom wavered. Harry could feel that he didn't have the same faith in Loki that Harry did and there was an uncertainty about all of this (and it wasn't like the trickster had done much of anything profound to inspire that trust, but he had it for him all the same-), but then it tapered into resolve and resignation.

I'll see to it.

Thank you, Tom. He closed the connection after that, as best as he could, but it still felt stronger than it was and he knew it would stay that way. He bit his lip, and then pulled Tony's communicator from his pocket. He'd only used it the once, to ensure it worked from Asgard. It had, but he didn't know if it would work from here. He cast a minor privacy ward, turned it on, pressed the right buttons and held it up to his ear.

There was a ringing, and then-

"Ghostbusters, whaddya want?" Harry blinked.

"... Tony?" The man snickered.

"Hey Peanut." He rolled his eyes.

"Hey Tony. Is Bruce there?"

"Aw, I don't even warrant small talk? I'm hurt."

"Tony please." Hit tone must have given away his urgency, because there was a moment of silence before the billionaire responded more seriously.

"I'll get him." There was a shuffling sound, a few clicks and then the murmur of voices that weren't quite loud enough to hear the words being said.

"Harry?"

"Bruce, I may need a favor. I'm not sure yet, it depends on what happens, but-"

"What's going on?"

"Well, it's like this-"

wawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawa

When Queen Skadi had told him that she wanted her people to witness this fight of theirs, he had, honestly, underestimated what she meant. He'd remembered the few dozen warriors above, and assumed those were all who would be present. To be honest, he just hadn't thought much on that part of it. If he had, he would have considered the fact that all those warriors must have families, parents and elders and wives and children, and that there must be families without warriors. But he hadn't thought about it really.

As such, it came as something of a shock, when a young warrior arrived to lead him to the place he was to face the Jotun ruler, and he found himself in an enormous underground cave with the walls lines with frost giants. There were men and women old and young, and some children of various ages (and dammit but most of them were bigger than he was!). Wide green eyes surveyed them in surprise, and then-

Harry frowned.

There were more people here to watch than he had expected, yes. But- There were a lot less people than he had expected to inhabit an entire city, and he didn't think that was because not all of them had come. There were around three or four hundred people (best as he could see without trying to count them out), and, more alarming than that-

There were children, yes, but he counted every one he saw, and there were only twenty-three of them, plus two infants in their mothers' arms. That was... That was a very small number, all things considered. His frown deepened as he was led to the middle of the- arena? training ground? gathering place? where Queen Skadi stood. the space dipped low near the middle into a sort of bowl. It was a gradual decline, but it left them several feet lower than their audience. The small number of children (assuming this was all of them here), more than anything, proved to him that her words before had been truthful.

If the Jotuns were dying out because Odin had taken this casket thing, then the Allfather better pray to whatever a god prayed to that he hadn't known. Because if the Asgardian had been sitting idly by while an entire race was dwindling into extinction when it had been in his power to stop it-

He resisted the urge to bare his teeth and snarl.

The Jotun warrior left him standing beside his ruler, and Harry looked her over. She had been barefoot before, and she still was, but she had shoulder guards and bracers on her legs that she hadn't earlier. Other than that she was dressed the same. She'd been unarmed as well, but that was no longer the case. A sword, nearly as long as Harry was tall, was strapped to her hip, and there was a bow (that definitely was bigger than him) and a quiver of arrows on her back that Harry eyed carefully. Keeping his distance from her would keep him away from her bulk, from her long reach and her strength, but it would also mean contending with those, and she wouldn't have brought the bow if she wasn't skilled enough to put it to use.

The sword was a small victory for him though. His spear was a long one- the tip a good two feet above his head when he had the butt resting on the stone beneath his feet. He wouldn't quite be able to match her reach, but he could hold her off much more easily, spear against sword, than he would have human-spear against Jotun-spear. He'd been worried about that, since it seemed to have been the prefered weapon of the warriors he'd seen above ground. He was relieved to find that worry unnecessary. It was a very small relief however.

"King Black." There had been quiet murmurs and whispering throughout the chamber, echoing off the arched walls and high ceiling, and they fell to a disconcerting silence the moment she addressed him. Her voice echoed so much that though she had not spoken loudly, it was clear everyone there could hear her as clearly as if she'd yelled.

"Queen Skadi." He dipped his head.

"This," She waved a hand between them. "is a battle of honor, for Jotunheim, and for myself, and for you, in turn. We fight for the head of Prince Loki, of Asgard." He saw some of the giants make angry faces, but none of them spoke. "If you win, neither I nor any of my people will lift a hand against him, except in personal defense of themselves, should need arise. If I win, then you will appeal to King Odin of Asgard to give him over to us, and you will stand aside when I kill him for his crimes." Oh he'd make the appeal, but if he lost, Loki wouldn't be there to be taken. She didn't need to know that though, so he nodded.

"As you say. And what are the terms of engagement for this battle?" She tilted her head.

"We fight until one of us yields, is clearly unable to continue, or dead. We may each use any tools or weapons or other such abilities at our disposal to see it done, except-" She raised a finger. "Neither of us may change our forms from the ones we wear now," Harry blinked. Ah. He wasn't allowed to use his animagus form then? Had she been- had that actually worried her? He tucked that thought away. It might be worth coming back to. "-and neither of us may summon aid. We each fight alone for this. Do you agree to these terms?"

"These are the only terms you have?" Her eyes narrowed, wariness passing over them, but she didn't hesitate in her answer, though he thought she wanted to.

"They are." Victory flashed inside him and he stifled it. He could use his magic then. It wouldn't guarantee him a victory. Far from it, but-

But it would certainly help.

"Then I agree."

"You've no terms of your own?"

"No." She definitely looked wary now.

"Very well, then we will stand opposite one another now." She moved away from him, and he mirrored her, walking to the opposite side and trying to place himself in a relative position. "Elder Aslaug," She addressed an old Jotun- a woman with a heavily wrinkled face and navy skin. "Would you honor us in giving the signal to start?" The old giant nodded. She was sitting cross-legged in front of her section of the crowd, and didn't bother to stand.

"Ready yourselves." She called, her aged voice a croak, and Harry bent slightly at the knees, raising his spear so he held it one handed, and swirling his magic up inside himself, ready to call it to his other hand. Skadi drew her sword. The blade was white and gleamed in the soft light. The old woman raised her hand, arm shaking slightly, and he met the queen's gaze. Her arm dropped. "Begin!"

And Harry moved.

wawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawawa

A horrible place to end it, I know, but it was the easiest place for me to cut-off right now, so it's where I did.

The next chapter is done, but I want to give myself a little wiggle room, so I'm posting it the weekend after next. I'm gonna try and get us back on that nice every-other-weekend schedule we'd had going there, but I make no promises.

Cross your fingers people.

The next chapter gives us a little bit of action! Which is nice. I'm not the best at action (I think i do drama better) but I admit I've missed it. This fic is more adventure-fantasy-drama-politics than action, so it's nice when it pops up.

PAIRINGS

Before I go, I've had several people ask about pairings and whatnot, and I've said it before but I'll say it again here FOR THE LAST TIME for anyone who missed it before now.

Romance is not a focus. But the planned pairings are, at this time-

Sif then Logan.

I like polyamorous couples, but I'm not doing one right now. Harry will become more further involved with Sif, that will END, and then he will become involved with Logan.

After Logan, though I never expected to want it, I kind of want to set Harry up with Muhammad, or (another thing I never ever planned on) Loki.

(or both maybe)

BUT I DON'T KNOW IF EITHER OF THOSE WILL HAPPEN!

I play a great deal of this fic by ear. My plot-plans are loose and prone to change. My chapter-content ideas are vague. The characters like to tie me up, take over the keyboard, and lose their damned minds.

So I don't know. Maybe he's still with Logan by the time I end this fic (and Mitera only knows when that will be), maybe he's single. Maybe he's with Moo. Maybe he starts a casual fling with Blaise that turns serious. Maybe he runs off and sweeps Luna off her feet. Maybe he goes dimension-hopping and marries Kakashi or knocks up an elf. Maybe he has an alien harem.

I HAVE NO IDEA. I'M JUST ALONG FOR THE RIDE PEOPLE!

So yea. Sif is planned. Logan is planned. Moo is a vague concept I make grabby-handed 'want' motions at. Everything else is up in the air.

Not bringing it up again. I know I've said that before but I mean it this time.

-sigh-

Ok that's it. See you all in two weeks! Thank you to everyone who wished me a happy holiday! Love you all!

Sincerely,

Mr. Hate