Thanks again for reading 'til here ^^ Hope you enjoy this last part.

Back to Thor's POV for this. Sorry (or not) if you think their little exchange towards the end is a bit weird.

Sunset was erasing the blue layer of the sky from the silhouetted horizon, revealing rosy shades that bled beneath. The throngs in the city had thinned considerably. The last of the people rushed past with arms burdened by bags and wrapped parcels.

"Why are so many here hastening around bearing bought goods?" Thor stooped to pick up a clear bag holding a freshly purchased orange toy pony. He smiled and handed it back to the small girl who had dropped it after accidentally walking into his leg. She bared her teeth in a bright return smile and ambled on after her father.

"It's a custom for many in Midgard to give others gifts on Christmas day. Some may have procrastinated a little in attaining all the presents they'll give tomorrow." Loki was eyeing a gold and blue toy emporium a short while ahead, the sign above its glass doorway declaring it Mister Knickerbocker's Knickknacks. As they passed its large front windows, Thor saw inside many differently coloured and sized versions of the toy pony the small girl had dropped in front of him.

After another short span of companionable silence as they walked, Thor felt a leisurely yawn stretch his mouth open. He had not really noticed how dark the evening was turning, and remembered Loki told Frigga they would only be gone for the daytime. "We should call for Heimdall to open the Bridge soon, Brother. Christmas Eve is waning, and no doubt more duties are waiting for us back home." He let out an unenthusiastic huff at the latter reason.

Loki blinked. "You of all people are saying we should return home in order to do our chores? Was there something unusual in the food you ate in that dining house?"

The moment they stepped back into the auburn shadows of Heimdall's Observatory, the contrast of Asgard's rich air to the Earth city's winter one was almost palpable. The towers waiting at the other end of the glassy bridge glittered proudly in welcome, and Thor was pleased to hear his cape snapping mutedly in the wind.

Thor massaged the grey bruise surfacing on his shoulder from the training hours with Sif and Fandral he had just finished.

Though he agreed that Loki certainly needed more battle practice with their friends, he was glad his little brother had not joined him for this latest session. It gave Thor a chance to dash to his room and fish out the brown box he had been keeping there.

Hopefully it had looked enough like it was supposed to be hidden. For the past century, Thor had not genuinely bothered trying to hide anything he had not wanted Loki to find. He had realised a few years ago that any object he tried to conceal, in his bedchambers or otherwise, Loki would discover it if (when?) he discerned that Thor was secreting something away. Last year, Thor had realised that Loki would not pry any further than simply discovering the location of the item if it were apparent Thor wanted it kept hidden.

The falling sun could be seen nearly kissing the horizon, through the tall windows of the quiet chamber he entered. Loki was there, pacing silently across the floor as an ash-black silhouette against the dusky orange light of sundown. Thor saw a sphere of cold light hovering between his palms. It looked like Loki's concentration was closing his green eyes, but Thor guessed Loki already knew he was being observed.

Thor watched as Loki began to shape the orb of light – lengthening it, sharpening it, until it was more like a curved knife blade. Its edge was now like a thin smile. "Brother, if this dagger were to part your skin now, there would suddenly be not much left of you afterwards" he said to Thor over his shoulder.

Abruptly, Loki rubbed his hands together as if they were cold, and the bright dagger dissipated. Threads and wisps of light vanished into the air, between his slender fingers, up his dark sleeve cuffs.

"But what good is that magic act in a fight if it takes you so long to ready the blade?" Thor preferred seeing the steely sheen of solid daggers in his brother's hands.

"I was just perfecting the shape." Loki smiled with more sharpness than the knife. "In combat, believe me, I'll be faster."

"Well." Still, his brother should harness more reliable weapons too. Loki then looked at him like he was about to say something, but with a gleam of excitement, Thor remembered why he was there.

"Loki!" Thor brandished the box that he had been holding behind his back. "I have a Christmas gift for you."

Two days ago, the palace's library hands had tried to veil their curiosity at the oldest prince demanding for an empty paper casket that was used to package books for deliveries. Thor was proud he had even managed to persuade Frigga to give him a long silver ribbon with which he tied around the box containing Loki's present.

Smiling hugely, he watched his younger brother take the box into his pale hands, slowly, carefully, like it was an injured hatchling bird. Loki was wearing his thoughtful expression – the one that Thor usually saw on his face as Loki lingered over a particularly curious act of magic-use, or a chapter in a giant library volume, or when they stood as children in the gardens to select flowers to pick for their mother.

Thor's grin grew so wide it was hurting his cheeks, as Loki extracted the contents of the box and stared at it for a long moment.

"Faeomin."

Loki looked up at Thor. His pupils were dilating so his irises were more black than green. "You're giving me back Faeomin?"

The old stuffed toy was shaped like no particular creature – two rounded bear-like ears, four limbs without knees or elbows, a long downy tail – and still soft, still cloud-white.

"Can you recall that day you started going without Faeomin?" Thor knew, with a stirred feather of sheepishness, that Loki would recollect it perfectly. He and Loki, as very young boys, had fallen into such a stubbornly furious argument (about what exactly, Thor could not remember) that Thor had decided to steal Loki's stuffed plaything, Faeomin, and hide it away. Loki had not yet gained the shrewd knack for finding things like his older self. He had spent weeks afterwards wonderingly searching, not earnestly considering that his older brother would have gone so far as to take it.

Thor had meant to return Faeomin to him after only a few days – a midnight shortly after the dispute, Loki had darted into Thor's room muttering something about a bad dream, and how could Thor stay angry at him then? – but then realised that he himself could not remember where he had stashed the toy. Thor had only rediscovered Faeomin, buried deeply, after their recent return from Midgard as he searched for a Christmas present to give to his brother.

In front of him now, Loki was gently waving Faeomin's boneless limbs around like he were checking his childhood plaything still recognised him. His eyes were snow-bright, soft. A small smile on his lips. "For some reason, back then I never thought you were the reason Faeomin went missing."

Thor shifted shamefacedly, before saying, "Well, I only hope the novelty of having a stuffed toy has not worn off for you yet."

Loki lifted Faeomin to sit behind his neck, like it was hitching a ride on his shoulders. "I guess it hasn't."

"But Sif, Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg will probably laugh at you if you walk around like that."

"That's fine by me."

"Father may disown you."

"I'll just tell him about our snowball fight on Earth."

Thor was about to reply when his brother suddenly plucked from the windowsill behind him a lumpy package that Thor could have sworn was not there when he had first entered. "Now your turn."

Beaming, Thor took the parcel, which was as big as Loki's entire torso. It was much lighter and softer than its size suggested, like a large feather pillow. Too impatient to guess at it, Thor ripped off the wrapping, and stared at what was inside. It ogled up at him with shining black eyes. Thor laughed, turning the purple pony doll around in his calloused hands, its legs and tail drooping to the floor.

"Do you like it?" His brother was smiling expectantly, like he was being serious.

Thor laughed again. "It's a delightful jest, Loki. No doubt I shall cherish it evermore."

But he saw his little brother's smile drop slightly. "… Oh…" Loki said, looking away.

Thor blinked again. In slight disbelief. "... But truly, it's a nice colour choice, Loki, and the fabric is, uh – "

Then Loki's abrupt laugh was like a whip crack, as he pressed a second, smaller and more rectangular parcel into Thor's hands, taking the pony to place on the windowsill. "Brother, if I had really wanted to give you a colourful toy foal, I would have at least chosen the red one."

Thor snorted. "Stop it." He unwrapped the new gift, which felt as if it were of thick, hardwearing fabric. He held it out before him, and saw a long coat. One that would fit in well on Midgard, though its style held subtle similarities to Asgardian attire. And it was a dark blood red.

"There, now you can wear your signature colour whenever you go to Midgard without me." Loki was saying.

When Thor lowered the coat to thank him, Loki unexpectedly stepped forward and latched himself around Thor's shoulders in a brief, tight hug, his finger tips just managing to meet together behind his older brother's back. Thor moved aside Faeomin's ear to lightly touch the top of Loki's head.

"Merry Christmas, Brother."

Finished.

I'll be glad if you enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Could you leave a review (please) to let me know what you thought of this last chapter/the story in general?

This is seriously late, but I also hope you had a good 2014 Christmas too :)