Oh, this chapter did not want to be written. I literally had to drag my characters from their hiding places and figure out what to do with them. Anyway, this is another patchwork chapter with a little of everything in it. Thanks to Marvel-Tolkien Fangirl for the tips and suggestions. A continuation of the holiday will be put into "Lost Tales of Asgard" eventually, but I can't say exactly when. I simply couldn't shove everything I wanted into this chapter. Things are about to get hectic, though. I hope you enjoy this little relief from the drama and such before being driven even deeper. Thanks to all. :)
"I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys."
-Charles Dickens
"Remind me why I allowed you to persuade me into this ludicrous undertaking?" Loki asked as he tossed a green and gold striped scarf around his neck.
"It is atonement for the stress you had me undergo during the Sigyn incident," she replied, buttoning her white blouse.
"I did apologize for that. Must you torture me, as well?"
"Oh, stop being a drama king."
He raised an eyebrow at her, "A what?"
She waved her hand dismissively, "Midgardian term. Besides, would it not be productive to make allies of your enemies?"
"So that I must take more precautions to ensure old habits don't crop up?"
She rolled her eyes, "In all honesty, Loki, what do you believe they would attempt?"
"Shall I list them by importance or likely order?"
She tugged him closer by his scarf, "You really wish to leave me on Midgard for nine days with only Thor, the Avengers, and Jane for company? A shame Natasha, Jane and Pepper will be the only women there…"
She had won the argument, it was all but written in his eyes.
"I suppose nine days will not hurt," he mused, keeping an eye on the way she wrapped the two ends of the scarf around her hands. "I rather like this scarf on you."
"I'm not even wearing it," she pointed out.
"No, but it looks quite marvelous wrapped around your wrists. Perhaps we could test my theory later?"
"Must you speak of such indecent topics?" Thor demanded from the other room. "I may be your brother, but I do not wish to hear about your private endeavors."
"Excuse me but, as I recall, I've had to endure several hours of your boasting on who you happened to bed the previous night and exactly what you did. I don't believe a vague comment is uncalled for."
"Did you truly?" Thor asked, voice radiating confusion. "I do not recall."
"Perhaps it was due to the several steins of mead you would consume," he replied, walking out to the room Thor stood in. "And I will never understand your ridiculous love of plaid shirts."
Thor looked down at the button-up, "This is my favorite Midgardian shirt."
Freyja smiled as she followed Loki out, wondering if Thor happened to have several replicas of the red plaid shirt.
"Besides," he retorted, "you never wear anything except for that blasted suit and scarf."
Loki looked mildly offended at the statement, "This 'blasted suit' is an Ermenegildo Zegna and is a very high quality suit on Midgard. And this scarf is Hugo Boss. Unlike you, I prefer not to look as if I have dug my clothes out of those donation boxes when I go to Midgard."
"Oh, leave Thor alone," Freyja snapped, having had enough of their arguing over clothes. "If he wishes to dress casually, allow him to do so. You make no complaints on what I wear."
"You look stunning in everything, love," he answered with a smile before reverting to the language of her people. "Even when it is nothing more than my sheets draped over your skin."
"Loki!" she exclaimed, horrified at his comment even though Thor couldn't understand a word of it.
"Will you desist in making licentious comments in public?" Thor demanded.
"Freyja's rooms are far from public," he corrected, "and you have no proof that my words were salacious."
"The proof was both in your tone and in her response."
"Enough, or I shall leave you both here," she warned, offering them her hands.
Thor took her left hand while Loki ignored her right and snaked an arm around her waist, instead. She rolled her eyes at his lopsided grin, focusing her energy on the Tesseract hanging from the silver chain around her neck. There was a disorientating vision of the world blending together into a plethora of shapes and shadows before solidifying into the penthouse of Stark Tower.
Tony, who was soldering a large mass of metal, jumped in surprise at their sudden entrance. He looked in surprise from Thor to Freyja, gaze questioning, until his eyes followed the long fingers that curled around her waist to the man they belonged to.
"Aw, shit," he muttered. "Why is Farrah Fawcett's brother in my tower?"
His words were met by the confused gazes of three Norse gods, causing him to realize why the meaning was lost on them.
"What the hell are you doing here, Loki?" he demanded, deciding to be straightforward as he pulled on a gauntlet.
He grinned slightly, amused by Tony's actions, "I was invited."
"And I have a secret relationship with Steve," he retorted sarcastically.
"You did inform me that I may invite a companion of my choice, did you not?" Freyja asked him with a smile.
He opened his mouth to retort but could not reply as words failed him. Loki, on the other hand, knew exactly when and where to begin putting his silver tongue to use.
"In truth, Man of Iron, I am both a guest of you and Freyja and it would be quite rude to inform me otherwise. If it is the safety of your beloved possessions you fear, I can assure you that I have no wish to indulge in such petty endeavors."
"What about last time you were here?"
He shrugged, "I found Midgard was not a compelling prize, after all."
Tony looked like he might say something back, but turned to Freyja instead, "How exactly are you explaining him to Fury?"
"I do not-"
"Sir?" Jarvis spoke up, interrupting her. "Director Fury is at the door."
Tony threw up his hands in defeat, "Speak of the devil. Put him on speakerphone, Jar."
"Stark. I need you to call in the Avengers," Fury's voice rang through the building. "We picked up an energy reading identical to the Tesseract in this vicinity and need you to check out what it is."
"No worries, Biere Du Boucanier. It's just Goldilocks, Castaspella, and Houdini."
There was a second of silence as everyone besides Tony attempted to comprehend his words.
"Stark, enough with the games. Who the hell is up there will you?"
"You'll have to see it to believe it," Tony muttered. "Jarvis, let him in."
The door to the elevator opened a second later, revealing Fury with his eyes closed and hand at his temple. He walked through, still not opening his eyes.
"Stark, I already have to deal with some rogue assassin causing trouble in Washington as well as the surfacing of some superhuman school with a blood-feud with another group of superhumans led by some megalomaniac with control over magnetism and don't have time for your-"
He opened his eyes at last, words dying in his mouth as Loki gave a mock salute.
"Is this some sort of joke?"
"Only if you find it humorous, director," Loki answered. "Of course, your expression in itself is quite comical."
He smiled apologetically as Freyja sent him a withering look.
"With all due respect, Freyja," Fury started, "I will not have him on this planet while I'm still kicking."
"That can always be amended," Loki muttered. "Ow!"
Freyja removed her elbow from his ribs, reverting to her own language, "You are being deliberately unhelpful."
"Alright, I'll behave," he replied, pecking her on the cheek.
Fury looked as though his eyes might pop out of their sockets. Tony looked from him to Loki and Freyja, a look of realization on his face.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you," he started in a cheery tone. "They're sort of a couple."
"When did this first happen?" Fury asked through grit teeth.
Thor, Loki and Freyja exchanged glances, each attempting to put a date to the moment.
"When was it?" Thor asked. "Eight-fifty-three A.D., was it not?"
"No, I'm almost certain seven-ninety-six," Loki corrected, not sounding certain at all.
Freyja shrugged, "I thought it to be nine-thirty-two."
Fury looked as if he may have an aneurism as Tony fell forward against his desk, laughing as if he had never seen something so ridiculous.
"You people give me heart palpitations," Fury grumbled before turning to Freyja. "Keep him on a short-lease, alright?"
"I will make certain he causes no trouble," she replied.
Then he walked back into the elevator, muttering about gods and superheroes and lack of necessary health coverage. Loki gave Freyja a questioning smile and leaned down ever so slightly so that only she may hear him.
"Do tell how you plan to do that."
She gave him an equally sly smile, "I intend to bribe you."
"With what?" he asked, sparing Thor and Tony, who were cheerily conversing, before allowing her to see the glint of mischief in his eyes.
"Oh, I think you know very well what."
"Hey, Spike and Buffy, come over here and socialize like normal people do," Tony called.
"Since when do any of us classify as normal?" she laughed.
He shrugged, "None of us are, anymore."
"What do you me-"
Thor suddenly held up a slim plastic box with several faces on it, "The humans have made an epic of our histories!"
Freyja took the box from his hand, examining the picture on the front. A rather broad man in silver armor and a red cape knelt in the center of the image, hammer in hand. Above him, one woman and three very familiar men were lined neatly in a row. Large red letters spelled out "THOR" along the top. She looked back and forth between Thor and the impersonator on the cover.
"How peculiar," she mused. "He bears a remarkable resemblance to you. In fact, this is extraordinary."
Loki looked over her shoulder, eyes narrowing, "Is that meant to be me?"
"Yes. Isn't it incredible?" Thor demanded, beaming.
"Nonsense," he replied disdainfully. "My nose is not nearly as long."
Freyja scrutinized the man with green eyes and a golden helmet, "I believe he looks sufficiently akin to you."
"Here is the real prize!" Tony called, brandishing a different box. "There are two for me."
"By the Wise One, he's practically an astral projection of you," Freyja laughed.
"It's great, isn't it? We'll watch it tomorrow," he said before stopping. "Oh, and they're making one about you."
"Me?" she asked.
"Yeah, they like the good girl with the bad guy. And you," he said, suddenly sounding sullen as he pointed to Loki, "you have stolen my fangirls."
Loki raised a questioning eyebrow, "Your what?"
"Fangirls!" Tony exclaimed, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "Hordes of women fawning over me and begging to be within a mile radius of me. You stole them all with your misunderstood prince act!"
Freyja watched as Loki's face contorted into anger, "Misunderstoo-"
"Miss Foster is pulling in, sir," Jarvis said suddenly.
"Jane!" Thor yelled before running to the elevator and pushing the button several times in a row.
"Hold on, Cinderella," Tony yelled. "You're not going to miss the ball."
Loki and Freyja followed, entering the elevator after the two Avengers. Thor rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, apparently too anxious to see Jane again to remain still. Freyja smiled at his impatience, remembering the time before he learned humility. It had been a simpler time then, she knew, but she wouldn't have traded the present for the past.
When the doors slid open, Thor ran through the lobby and out the door towards an approaching van. Tony, Loki and Freyja ran to keep up with the ecstatic thunder god. The smile faded from Freyja's face as she realized something crucial about Jane and her line of vision within the van.
"No, Thor, wait!"
A second later, she winced as the van clipped him with a dull thud. The doors flew open as Jane and an unfamiliar brunette leapt out.
"Seriously, Jane?" the girl asked. "This is what, the fifth time?"
"Thor!" Jane yelled, ignoring the girl's words. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"That is Jane?" Loki breathed, sauntering forward when Freyja nodded.
He leaned over his brother, assessing the damage. A smile crept across his lips as he did so.
"Well, I've grown fond of her already," he chuckled.
"As ripped as Thor is, Loki is hot."
"Darcy!" Jane exclaimed, horrified at her assistant.
"What? It's true. He may not be cut like Thor, but there's something there."
Jane turned to Freyja, who was smiling behind her drink, "I'm so sorry."
Freyja shrugged, watching Loki change the color of his own drink while he sat with the other men, "Do not worry yourself. I have no qualms with the truth."
"Hey, can you answer something for me?"
She turned to face Darcy, nodded as she took a sip of whatever Tony had given her.
"Jane's been worrying about Asgard," Darcy said with a grin. "You all wear a ton of armor and leather and she's afraid she'll make a fool of herself trying to take off Thor's."
"You promised you wouldn't tell!" Jane snapped, turning a vivid shade of red.
Freyja waved a dismissive hand, "Thor will not see it in such a way. Besides, it does not take long to understand how to remove his armor."
Jane choked on her drink while Darcy leaned forward.
"You've been with Thor?"
Freyja shook her head, "Thor and I have never regarded each other as more than siblings. However, I have found that accompanying him often calls for healing him after some ridiculous escapade. It is nearly impossible to heal any wounds when one is cloaked in leather and metal. Magic tends to quicken the endeavor."
"Uh, your brooding prince charming is coming over," Darcy said suddenly.
Freyja looked up to see that Loki was indeed walking towards her, a ghost of a smile playing across his face. The glint in his emerald eyes warned her that he had just invested in a gamble he knew he could win. When he reached her, he slid into the barstool beside her.
"Stark seems to be under the impression that he is the best in all categories in this party," he whispered. "He is currently showing off with Miss Potts."
Glancing over his shoulder, Freyja found that Tony was indeed dancing with Pepper under the pulsating lights. Though the music was unfamiliar, the style vaguely reminded her of the form known to her people.
"I propose we show them they are not the only ones who are proficient."
"You simply want an excuse to show off."
He held out his hand, "One dance is all I ask."
She took his hand, slipping off the stool, "There is never just one."
Spinning her around once, he pulled her body close to his. Hands roaming down her sides, hips rolling against hers, eyes gazing daringly into hers, she couldn't help but smile.
"Someone has been practicing."
He grinned wolfishly, "I have."
"With whom?"
A hand tangled itself in her hair, pulling her head back. A second Loki smiled playfully as his grip loosened. She laughed softly as the projection closed his eyes, leaning in to kiss her temple. The other leaned down to trail his lips across her neck. Twisting in the holds of the two, she managed to put a hand on each of their chests and push them back gently. They growled simultaneously.
Hooking her legs around his waist, she allowed the original to kneel to catch her. Her fingers found the ends of his scarf and she pulled herself up. While the projection attempted to kiss her, Loki pulled her arms above her head. An inch away from the second's lips, she pulled her right leg to his shoulder. The real Loki used her trapped arms to spin her around to face him. To keep from toppling over, she cupped the back of his neck with one hand and grasped his ebony tresses with the other.
Her hands slipped down over his shoulders and to his chest as his wrapped around her neck and the projection's traced either side of her waist. One hand left her waist to brush against her cheek as the Loki before her leaned his forehead against hers.
"To think I was a coward enough to delay in asking for your hand during all these years," he breathed, using the language of her people to keep from anyone overhearing. "Can you forgive me for allowing my insecurities to blind me from what I've always wanted, what I truly needed?"
"What is there to forgive?" she replied. "We have lost everything, what more is there to lose? Let go now and we will have nothing."
"How far the mighty have fallen…"
She didn't notice the disappearance of the projection, she didn't need to. His soft sighs against her skin was all she could feel. A smile, one that carried neither teasing nor torment, crossed his lips just before she closed her eyes.
"No! Stop! Stop this right now!"
Tony's voice caused them both to jump, though their grips did not lessen.
"There will be no canoodling in this tower unless it's done by my magnificent self."
"Run to your little suit, mortal," Loki snapped, irate at being interrupted.
"You know, I have a question to ask you since you first came," Tony replied, casual tone warning Freyja of a terrible mistake. "Legend says you're the god of fire but how does that work with you being a Frost Giant."
Despite the music blaring throughout the tower, Freyja felt as if the world had gone dangerously silent. She stared in horror, waiting for Loki's reaction. Faint surprise was just barely visible before a wicked smile crossed his face. Tony, who had expected something much more obnoxious or venomous, took an automatic step back. Thinking quickly, Freyja stepped between the two.
"Now, Loki, let's take a step back and calm ourselves. No harm comes of words unless the listener reacts, correct?"
"Who told you?" Loki snarled, never pausing to remove the smile.
Tony remained decidedly quite, not willing to take the risk of answering.
"Who. Told. You?"
Freyja slid backwards as Loki took a step forward.
"Do you truly wish to lose your head as most do? I thought you more rational," she said quickly. "My Loki would never act without thinking."
That caused him to look down at her, green eyes softening. He looked back up to Tony.
"Allow me to show you," he said with a snap of his fingers.
Tony let out a startled yell as his flew towards the ceiling. Loki's fingers became ever so slightly tinged with blue as ice formed around Tony's feet. Hanging upside down from his feet, the playboy-philanthropist looked down to see a fire roaring beneath him.
"Alright! Alright, you raving lunatic!" Tony yelled, struggling to get away from the flames. "That was stupid of me. I'm Tony Stark, I do stupid and reckless things! Ask Pepper! Let me down!"
"Let me down, what?" Loki replied with a grin.
"What do you want? Praise? Fine! Please let me down, O mighty illusionist. I am unworthy to be in your godly presence. Satisfied?"
Loki shrugged noncommittally, "That will suffice."
He snapped his fingers once more, causing the flames to die and Tony to fall to the floor. He stood up painfully, rubbing his back.
"You need a drink, Lonny," Tony muttered. "And learn how to take a joke."
He poured a bright green liquid into a glass and handed it to Loki.
"Get drunk and loosen up for Christ's sake."
Loki eyed it suspiciously before downing the entire thing. Freyja waved a few chairs over and sat down next to the Avengers, Pepper, Jane, and Darcy. Clint slid further down the couch as Loki sat down beside her.
"Does he have to be here?" he demanded, glaring at his beer.
"Come on, he's not that bad once you have a drink or two with him," Tony protested, draping an arm around Clint
Clint looked between the two with a hint of disgust on his face, "I'd rather take an arrow to the knee..."
Loki's smile widened suddenly as he ran his fingers over the rim of his glass, "Sorry to disappoint, Barton, but, in Midgardian terms, you're not my type."
Freyja and Thor laughed as Clint choked on his beer, leaving everyone else to stare at the trio in bemusement.
"Is there something I'm missing?" Steve asked, looking towards Tony in hopes of an explanation.
The three gods exchanged a glance before Freyja spoke up.
"Taking an arrow to the knee was once Norse slang for proposing," she explained. "I'm surprised you were unaware of it. The tables have turned, haven't they?"
"Time changes many things," Thor laughed.
"Indeed."
As the mood began to decline, Tony suddenly stood up for a declaration, "Present time!"
Pepper tugged him back down, "No, presents are opened in the morning."
"Fine," Tony pouted. "But we at least get to have eggnog. Jarvis! Send Dummy in with some eggnog, can you?"
"Of course, sir," the AI replied.
"What is this eggnog?" Thor asked.
"It's nothing less than the greatest holiday drink ever invented!"
"Tony, you're drunk," Natasha muttered.
"And you're not drunk enough!" he declared, thrusting a glass into her hands. "It's Christmas, and we're going to be damn merry."
Loki handed his glass of eggnog to Freyja, not even taking a sip. Of course, Freyja knew why this was. It was best if he stayed relatively sober, as he tended to become somber when he was drunk and often lamented about his troubles. It was a side only she had seen, and she knew he would not allow the Avengers to see it. Taking a drink, she decided to put it aside, as well.
"Why have you befouled the ale with this yellow substance?" Thor asked after taking a gulp.
"That's what you do," Bruce explained. "You mix eggnog with liquor. I guess it's an acquired taste."
As Thor and Tony began to argue about the proper way to consume alcohol, Clint and Natasha slipped away into the hall. Freyja leaned towards Loki, lowering her voice so that the others couldn't hear.
"What say we slip away for the night?" she asked. "No one will notice our absence."
"What do you have in mind?"
"A prize for not fatally wounding anyone and a bribe to behave for the remainder of the trip," she replied, allowing him to hear the mischievous edge to her words.
He nodded, "Lead the way, love."
She laced her fingers with his and pulled him down one of the halls to the guest room Tony had given them earlier. As she closed the door, she felt his lips on her neck.
"Jarvis, disable the video and audio recording within this room, if you please," she said, turning the lock.
"Yes, ma'am."
Without another word, Loki turned her around and worked his way down her jaw and to her lips. He kissed her hungrily, a soft growl emanating from the back of his throat. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she allowed him to steadily unbutton her blouse. His hand brushed against lace as he reached for the waistline of her jeans. He stopped, pulling back to look at what he had felt.
"Whatever is the matter?" she asked, glancing down at the green and gold corset with black lace. "Not to your taste?"
"What is it?" he asked, appraising it carefully.
"A little something Midgardian women use. If you do not like it, I can dispose of it."
He shrugged noncommittally, tracing his tongue over her collarbone.
"Alright, it leaves tomorrow."
She inhaled sharply as he nipped her shoulder.
"It stays," he murmured.
She laughed softly, "I knew you would enjoy it."
The week was an interesting one, and Freyja found herself enjoying the respite away from Kenna and the troubles of Asgard. However, by the day after New Year's, she knew it was time to return. She was ready to return to the mild strife of the Realm Eternal, but she did not expect to find it in chaos.
The people who crowded the streets were not keeping civil conversations, but yelling angrily and gesturing wildly. She caught snatches of derogatory names in both languages, strange accusations and exasperated defenses. Looking around at the madness, she caught sight of a young Vanir boy confronting an Æsir warrior. The man raised his fist as Freyja rushed forward.
"What in the name of the Yggdrasil is going on?" she demanded, taking hold of the Asgardian's wrist.
"Release me, recreant beast," he snarled, pushing her away.
Loki caught her before she stumbled, anger blazing in his eyes, "How dare you act in such a shameful way?"
"Those demons must be driven back to the Realm from whence they came!" he snapped, pointing a finger at Freyja. "They are nothing if not devious murderers."
"What murders are you accusing the Vanir of?" Thor demanded, hand on Mjolnir.
"My king, we must drive the brutes out before they fell us in our sleep. They had no honor when they murdered the woman in the streets. We saw what they did during the war. We should have never trusted them."
"What woman-"
"King Thor!" a voice called through the crowd.
Thor turned to face a guard with messy strawberry-blonde hair, "Theoric? What has occurred?"
"My king, we found a corpse of a woman in the streets just this morning. It is urgent that you see."
Exchanging worried glances, the three followed Theoric up to the palace and into the Healing Room. Several healers crowded around a single bed, muttering amongst themselves.
"What is the cause of the death?" Freyja asked, noting that Freyr had been allowed out at last.
"That would be the cause of the trouble, Princess," Theoric said. "She was killed through mental destruction which, as you know, is strictly a Vanir method."
The healers cleared out of the way as the three approached. All three froze in shock as they saw the face of the woman. Her blonde hair was covered in grime and hung limply around her face, which was contorted into an expression of anguish and fear, but she was still recognizable. All of them knew her face well.
It was Sigyn.