Loki woke up sweating. His heart was racing. He took deep breaths, concentrating on getting it back to an even tempo- regaining control of his body, even if he couldn't control his mind.

It was how he dealt with the nightmares.

He laughed shortly. Abruptly.

Nightmares. Not exactly- after all, it was the same memory that he dreamed of night after night, his mind adding nothing of it's own and leaving nothing out. It was excruciating. How many times had he gone over that day in his head, how many times had he examined anything else he could have done- any other way to stop the Frost Giants- and always he came up with nothing.

It had been three days. Three days of being trapped on Asgard. He hadn't noticed at the time, so distracted by the events going on that the soft scent of geraniums lingering in the room hadn't made an impression. But he knew that scent- it was always carried with her when she would visit him in the past. She had been there, unseen, as they discussed everything. He had no doubt in his mind that it was her who had taken his powers- she was more than capable of it- and that she had some sort of hand in Laufey's schemes. And for whatever reason she had allowed him back most of his powers.

It was infuriating though! What right had she to decide whether he should have his powers or not!? They were his. She had greatly overstepped whatever tense truce they had formed in the past.

Without his ability to flash, he was effectively a prisoner on Asgard, and already he pined for Earth, and for his family. He had forgotten how boring and still Asgard was. A stark contrast to the continuous winds of Jotunheim- and even Earth had weather. But not Asgard. It is as if the whole of it is in a constant state of suspended animation. Despite all scientific reason, the sky is empty of both sun, moon, and clouds. No rain, no snow. No wind shakes the stalks of grass. It is lifeless and dull, though stately.

He was staying in the palace, of course, his room opening onto a balcony that overlooked the city. Every morning he would wake up from a restless night to stare out at this city that he had grown up in, and the people that he had given up his world to save.

He couldn't decide if it was a weakness of character or a strength, what he did. It had been difficult for him to do, hinting at it being a strength- and yet, it's side-effects were entirely at opposites with what he wanted, pointing toward weakness.

It wasn't as if he'd ever felt like this was his home, even as a child. He'd always been the odd one out, never quite fitting in, never quite feeling like he was where he was meant to be. Until Darcy. Perhaps he was always meant to be with her.

And yet he had given her up, to save these people who would hate him if they knew what he was. Who would label him a monster.

He did not understand himself.

There was a knocking on the door, and Loki rose from bed, splashing water on his face from the washbowl on the table. His eyes must surely be red, and not from being in his Frost Giant form- he would never wear that shape on Asgard.

In many respects, Asgard is as backward and stiff as medieval Europe. Beauty, titles, and honor- these are prized above all else, and elitism runs rampant. Being able to travel with ease by using his magic, Loki had seen many realms as he was growing up. But he was an exception, in many ways. He must be one of only a handful of Asgardians who had ever left the realm at all. The Bifrost was used mainly for commerce, and the average Asgardian only saw the fruits of that commerce down at the marketplace. And when there is such a disconnection like that, it is easy for people to begin to think themselves to be better than the nameless, faceless 'others'.

The war with Jotunheim so many years ago had only solidified their low opinion of Frost Giants even more than any others. Many had been lost in the war, and Frost Giants were hated. Murderers. Monsters. Thieves. And yet, it was all a bit like calling the kettle black. As if Asgard had been perfect. Both sides had done things that were reprehensible. Back in Jotunheim, Asgardians were probably hated with the same fervor.

So no, Loki would never wear his Jotun form in Asgard, but he had barely been able to sleep, and his eyes showed it.

"Come in," he said, drying his face.

A beautiful, raven-haired woman opened the door. He sighed.

The past clung, no matter how much he tried to shake it off, and many of his most coveted wishes had hinged on this woman. Not so anymore, but the memories were many, and familiar- he had gone over them so many times when he'd been away from her, as if looking at them again might change them. Might make them into something that promised hope, instead of disgust and shame.

"I like your hair," Loki said, staring at the beautiful corn-silk locks. The sunlight hit them, making the gold in them shimmer and dance. It was entrancing. He wanted to touch it, but he was twelve years old, and he knew better.

She shot him a smile. "I know," she said. "It's my best feature. Not even Sigyn's hair is so nice." Sigyn was her best friend, and they were nearly inseparable.

"Oh," Loki said. He hadn't really noticed Sigyn's hair before. "I li- I like all of you," he said, tripping on his tongue but determined to say it before he could lose his nerve.

She grinned then, pleased. "Good. It's important for family to get along, and we're going to be family."

"We are?" He asked, confused.

"Yes," she said, nodding. Her confidence was nearly as entrancing as her hair. "I'm going to marry your brother one day- and that means that you'll be my brother."

"Oh," Loki repeated, feeling very stupid. Of course she liked Thor. Girls always liked Thor.

But he'd thought that maybe- maybe this time it would be different. Maybe she would- and he felt so overwhelmingly idiotic all of a sudden, because the fact that she would like him was just... Well. It was just so childish.

Who would ever like him? He was too pale and too gangly and his hair was too dark and he wasn't strong enough, and that wasn't even to mention the whole magic thing. Frigga had said not to use it, so it probably meant that there was something wrong with him that he had it to begin with.

'I don't want to be your brother!' he wanted to shout. He just wanted...he wasn't sure. Maybe just a friend. Thor was great and all, but he just didn't get Loki sometimes. And he was busy with all of his friends, so mostly Loki was left to his own devices. It was...lonely. And he really did like her- not just her hair. She was smart, and confident, and she got what she wanted.

"What?" She asked, having been distracted by the game Thor and his friends were playing at the edge of the park.

Maybe I just want to be wanted, Loki thought. Thor had his friends, his dad had the kingdom, Frigga had the court and her various projects, and what did Loki have?

"Nothing," he said.

"Okay," she said distractedly. "Oh, look! There's Sigyn! I simply must tell her- I had the strangest dream. I'll see you later Loki." And she had bustled off, leaving Loki as he so often seemed to be.

Alone.

"Sif," He said tonelessly. He did not want to deal with her right now.

She stared at him in open curiosity, as she had ever since the Bifrost stunt. Her wide, light brown eyes noting everything about him- seeing him, in a way that he had once longed for more than anything else. Now it just made him uncomfortable, and annoyed.

"Good morning, Loki," she said, tilting her head as she studied him. "I'm sorry. Were you sleeping?"

"No," Loki said shortly, bristling when she nodded as if this confirmed her suspicion. He didn't like the idea of her thinking about him in any way, let alone wondering if he'd slept. She'd had that chance a long time ago, and she'd spat in his face.

She blinked, a little hurt at his curtness and he had to suppress a snarl. She had done far worse to him, and three days of this moon-eyed calf-love thing that she'd been doing was enough for him to thank fate that she hadn't liked him back. They would have made each other miserable.

"Odin wanted to see you," she said reproachfully. "Something about Baldr." She said the name with a curl to her lip, as if reluctant to allow him his name. There was much ill-will directed toward the long-lost son of Asgard, and Odin was doing little to stem it.

But perhaps Loki could finally talk to Baldr now. He had many questions for him, but Odin had wanted to be present, and he'd been wrapped up in pressing affairs of the state.

"Now?" he asked.

Sif shrugged, her eyes lingering on his face for longer than Loki felt comfortable with. "If possible. Odin has another appointment soon, I believe."

Of course. Loki nodded to the door. "Shall we?"

Sif nodded regally, and turned, taking the lead. It was good that Thor had always seen her as a sister of sorts, because together Thor and Sif would have been even worse than Loki and her.

They walked in a charged silence for a moment- Loki almost daring her to say something, and Sif biting her tongue- before Sif turned off down another hallway, saying she had other business to attend to. Loki continued on to the dungeons, grateful to be rid of her. He hated the way she looked at him.

He hated the way she looked at him. As if, even when she was staring him in the face, she still saw the young, gangly boy, awkwardly confessing his admiration.

But Loki wasn't so young anymore. And he'd filled out a bit- had grown into himself. He was eighteen now. He was practically a man.

"You deserve someone who sees you," he said to her, noting the irony bitterly. He had long since begun to resent his infatuation with Sif. It had caused him little but pain, and yet it persisted.

Sif rubbed her palms over her eyes, trying to dry them. He wished he could pretend not to notice that she'd been crying- she hated showing weakness like that- but it was obvious. He'd followed her out to the gardens after Thor's ill-advised comment had sent her running from the dining room.

"But I want him!" she said despairingly, her words burrowing under Loki's skin like hot pokers. Her golden eyes gleamed up at him. And yet how could he not love her? Even the moon seemed to be in love with her, making her hair glow in the night, chasing shadows away from her face. "I want to be the one that he goes to for comfort." She laughed bitterly. "I even-" She shook her head at her own foolishness. " I even want to be the one who worries for him when he goes off to fight."

Her eyes were full of a confusion of longing and embarrassment, and she smiled sadly. "So now you know," she said dully. "Now you know how pitiful I am."

Loki swallowed. His own pain couldn't matter right now. He had to help her. He couldn't stand to see her like this.

"I don't think you're pitiful," he said. She sniffed.

"Really?" She asked hopefully.

"I think you're strong. In fact," he laughed shortly. "In fact, I think you wouldn't have to stay at home and worry for him at all- I think you could fight right alongside him, that's how strong you are." He hesitated, trying to figure out how to work it in. "In fact, I think we're both-"

But she'd been distracted. "I could," she said, her eyes wide and hopeful. "I could do it, Loki- I could fight with him."

Loki frowned. Oh. That hadn't been quite what he'd meant-

"He'd have to notice me then!" Sif grinned, and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you Loki! You always have the best ideas. Thank you thank you thank you! You'll see- you'll be my brother yet."

And then she was gone, whirling off, back into the dining hall- Loki left, once again, on his own.

But it was different now, he supposed. He was more used to it, anyways. What he'd used to call loneliness before, he'd begun calling solitude. Loneliness was something people had thrust upon them- but solitude. Solitude was something that people sought out. It was a choice. The distinction was very important to him.

So he decided to ignore the fact that Sif had left him, and told himself that, really, he'd been meaning to go back to his room anyways. There was much to learn, and no limits to stop him once he'd decided that Frigga would never love him. He was too different. And so he had learned to embrace what was shunned in him.

If he had this magic, then he would bloody well figure out how to use it.

The dungeons were well lit and dry, elegant even. Like the rest of the palace, the ceiling was lofty, the pillars grand and cold, the tiled floor gleaming. A vivid contrast to the cliché dungeons of Midgardian films.

They were almost always empty- crime being an unusual thing- and only one cell was occupied at the moment.

The guards ignored him completely, as they had always done (and he had tried many pranks in his youth to try to shake their concentration), but now their attitude brought to mind the Buckingham Palace guards. He missed home.

"Ah, there you are," Odin said- his first words to Loki since the day of the attack- striding down the stairs and into the dungeons. He must not have been far behind Loki. "Let's make this quick."

Loki frowned. Not exactly the attitude he would expect from one about to interrogate their own son about why he had attempted to steal the throne.

Odin snapped his finger at a guard, and they quickly unlocked the cell. Loki and Odin entered.

Baldr had been sitting against the far wall on the mattress provided for a bed, his knees drawn up and his face resting on them, looking away from everyone. He didn't look up when they came in.

He was big- Thor's size, probably. But where Thor was blond and his hair hung to the top of his shoulders, Baldr had medium brown hair cropped close to his head. Loki studied him, curiously.

"You should kill me," he said dully.

Loki's brows shot up in surprise.

"Yes," Odin agreed simply. Loki frowned. Odin looked about to say something else, but stopped himself. Instead he said, "And maybe I shall. But first I have questions for you."

"Ask them then," Baldr said. Loki was intrigued by his flippant demeanor.

"You tried to take my throne. Why?"

Baldr finally looked up, ashamed. "Because I am weak."

Loki snorted. "That's no answer."

"Laufey-"

"Start at the beginning," Loki said. It would eliminate many questions. "Is that the beginning?"

Baldr shook his head and glanced at Odin, whose face was hard and impassive. He swallowed, and turned back to Loki. It was hard to look at his...father. Too many questions. "Well, I live out in the Farlands. My par-" he broke off. "I was raised by a shepherd and a weaver- I am a shepherd, too. I was...happy. Or near enough, anyways. Then one day- not so long ago- it all...went wrong."

Odin listened, heart heavy with regret, though he was sure to keep his face unreadable. His poor, lost son. The things he did for his kingdom.

"I was in the fields, looking after the goats. It was a normal day. I was playing my flute when I saw a man appear out of nowhere on the horizon. I was astonished."

And well he should be, Loki thought. There were not many travelers through the Farlands, except on business with the locals. So what business a sorcerer could have there would be difficult to fathom for a shepherd.

"I watched with curiosity as the man drew closer, only to become alarmed when it became apparent that they were no man at all, but a great blue-"

"Frost Giant," Loki supplied rather sharply, hoping to cut off the word 'monster' before it came. It still nettled him to hear it, though he was angry to have such a pathetic weakness.

Baldr nodded, completely missing the sharpness of Loki's tone. It occurred to Loki that Baldr did not seem at all like an older brother, as Thor did, but more like a younger one. There was an incredible naivety about him- and a bizarre innocence in his plain, open face. It must have come from growing up in the Farlands, where life was much simpler. The honesty of him sat strangely though, because he looked so much the part of a warrior, with his big, muscled build and the hardness of his features.

Baldr coughed. "It was Laufey, of course, though I did not know it at the time. I was terrified," he admitted, embarrassed. "I had never even held a sword in my life before, but at that moment I longed for one. I thought he had come to kill me, and wondered what reason he could possibly have for wanting me dead."

He stood up, growing restless and pacing the small confines of the enclosure. As far as cells went, it was pretty nice. But a cell is a cell no matter how you dress it up. Loki and Odin sat at the small table in it's center, watching him. It was the first time his brother was seeing him, and the first time Baldr had seen him when he'd been conscious. He'd seen Odin a few times since being in the dungeon, but they'd never spoken. Odin had just come by his cell briefly and looked at him as if he was going to speak, but he hadn't.

"He wanted something entirely different though," he said. "He told me that I was a prince, cast out by my father like an unwanted dog- that it was only the good fortune of my- of my parents to find me. That I had been meant to die." He looked to Odin, hoping for some kind of response, but Odin stayed silent. Baldr smiled sadly. "And I...well, I was so bored with my life, and I was eager to believe him. Besides, I thought, what reason would he have to lie to me about this?" He laughed bitterly. "He told me that now was my chance- that he would help me take over the throne if I would just allow him access to the materials of Asgard during my reign. I accepted." Baldr rubbed his hand over his neck, looking away. "I was a fool, and greedy. I was swept up in the fairytale-ness of it. So I came with him to the palace, and he got us inside, to your chambers," he said, looking at Loki. "And I was supposed to get rid of you, so I knocked you out, and then...well...I mean, I couldn't kill you. I'm just not- I don't- I'm not a violent person by nature, really. So I sent you off to that other world with new memories. You were already asleep," Baldr said, looking at Odin. "So I didn't need to think about you just then. The Tesseract's power would help others accept me as king, and so only those who were closest to the throne needed to be gotten rid of, Laufey had said. It was just the queen left then..." he trailed off, remembering her. The way she had looked at him- as if she loved him. "I know you," she'd said, her hand to her mouth.

"Yes," Odin said harshly. "Your mother. You know she has longed for you ever since the day we sent you away? And how do you repay her? She is in Jotunheim, for the love of the gods!"

Baldr winced. "I know this! You think I do not know this? She was never meant to be a part of this! I was going to send her to that other world as well!" He sighed, running a hand through his short hair. "It was Laufey- he didn't trust me. Said he wanted insurance that I would hold up my part of the deal." He shook his head. "He is a good judge of character, Laufey. I was already starting to feel something was wrong. I was already wishing to back out of the arrangement. But he had Frigga, and I was trapped." He looked at Odin again. "Until you woke up."

"Yes. You made a horrendous miscalculation of my strength," Odin said, sneering. "It was child's play to take you down."

Baldr shrugged, unashamed by the reminder of his failure. "I know." He was actually incredibly relieved. He was not king material. He knew this now.

"But I don't understand," Loki broke in. "You used the Tesseract to wipe our memories. But how did you know how to use it? It is vastly complex-" That was an understatement. "The result of the knowledge and power of the ages, and you who lived your life as a shepherd could understand it?" Loki scoffed. "There is no way."

Baldr looked at him. It had been the strangest thing when he'd beheld the Tesseract. Like it had called out to him as a friend. It had glowed like a star, beckoning him forward, the scent of geraniums... "I don't know. I just looked at it, and I knew."

Loki frowned. That was...impossible. "You just knew," he echoed skeptically.

"Back to the matter at hand though, Loki, if you please," Odin snapped. He didn't think he could take much more of this. Guilt made him angry. "I would like to get your mother back as soon as possible. If you'll remember, she's still in Jotunheim. And now that you've gone and blown up the Bifrost I have to figure out another way to get her."

"Of course," Loki said, annoyed. Jeez. His question had been a good one. And at the time, it had been pretty necessary to destroy the Bifrost. Not that he'd gotten any thanks.

"What I'd like to know is how Laufey was traveling to Asgard in the first place," Odin mused sharply. "He should not have been able to, because he wasn't using the Bifrost. And unless he was traveling through Yggdrasill's roots, that means that one of the Artifacts must be unaccounted for."

There were many Artifacts created in one of the eight other worlds, and all had some kind of power or special element. Many were in Odin's treasury, safely away from those who would use them against Asgard, spoils of past wars and the wealth of Asgard. Most of the others were hoarded jealously by the Dwarves and Elves, who had a tentative alliance with Asgard. But there were always some that would be unaccounted for.

"How would Laufey have been able to get his hands on one, being trapped on Jotunheim as he ought to have been?" Odin asked, staring hard at Baldr, who paled under the look.

"I do not know," he stuttered. "I swear it. I did not even have much contact with him, and he certainly never told me of his plans."

Odin narrowed his eyes at Baldr, but accepted this. He looked at Loki, who- much to Odin's past despair- knew much of the Artifacts, being quite in love with all things magic.

Loki thought, going through the list of Artifacts and their qualities in his head. "We know he can teleport with it, but beyond that, we don't know anything else, yes?" He didn't wait for an answer. "It is difficult to say what it is at this point then. There are few Artifacts with the power to teleport their owners, and the ones I know of are in the Elves' treasuries. Except..." he trailed off, remembering and feeling like the biggest idiot that he could have allowed for something like this to happen. "Ah. Except that there is that ring in your treasury. The Galaxy Ring. And...ah. Well."And now it was time to own up to his colossal mistake. He did not like eating crow at all. "There's the slight chance that I may have inadvertently allowed for a few Frost Giants to disrupt Thor's coronation ceremony, and that perhaps he may have maybe been able to then get into the treasury and...borrow some stuff."

It was almost comical to watch Odin's face just getter redder and redder as Loki kept talking. Almost.

"You WHAT?" He bellowed.

"I said maybe! It's still possible that someone entirely different is aiding him, maybe one of the fire elves or something, I mean, let's face it, we've got some enemies..."

"LOKI-"

"Well, maybe if you weren't so fucking skilled at pissing people off then we wouldn't be in this mess! You know? You're really aggravating sometimes, Odin, and I can't say as I really blame a lot of our enemies for disliking us when you've been behaving like an ass for years and treating everyone like you don't love them very much, if you even do at all, and just what's so bad about Frost Giants, anyways-?!"

Darcy stared at the pregnancy test. And kept staring.A small smile started on her lips and grew into a huge grin.

"Oh," she said. "This is..." incredibly surprising, and slightly overwhelming, but not at all unwelcome. "Not exactly expected."

"Mommy," Nathan's voice came from the other side of the bathroom door.

She checked her watch. Eleven p.m. He should have been asleep already because she'd finished putting him to bed an hour ago, but he'd been having trouble sleeping lately. So had she, for that matter.

"Just a minute, honey," she said, looking at the pregnancy test for a long moment before throwing it away and washing her hands. She was going to be having another baby! The thought made her heart soar.

From the corner of her eye she saw her reflection in the mirror, and stopped to stare. She had gotten older. Not that old, she told herself. And she was still gorgeous, of course (thank you self-confidence, I do so love you, she thought). But she would be thirty this year. When had that happened!? When had she gotten middle-aged? It felt like just last year that she'd been working down in New Mexico for Jane, not really expecting too much out of life. And then in had waltzed Loki, and it had all changed. Ever since that her future had been set- she'd known her life would be forever entwined with his. She'd always scoffed at the idea of 'true love', but...he was the man for her. There could never be another. She knew it all the way down to her bones.

Shaking her head, she turned away from the mirror and opened the door. Nathan stood in the hallway, his young face so serious, and his eyes wide and unhappy.

"Honey, what is it?" Darcy asked, concerned.

"I can't sleep," he said, looking up at her. "It's too scary."

Darcy's heart ached for him. The poor boy. She hated for him to be afraid, and it was the hardest thing- to try and change a child's mind once they got an idea in their head. He was convinced that because his dad wasn't around anymore, that monsters wouldn't be too afraid to hide in his closet. Normally she would try and find a way of explaining that no, it was really okay because _, but tonight...she was so tired all of a sudden- happy, but tired- and she couldn't find the energy to look for an explanation that he might accept.

"Come on then, scamp," she said, herding him into her and Loki's room. "You can sleep with me for tonight."

Nathan brightened a little, and she knew that she would have to watch for this now- he would be trying to sleep in her room all the time, now that she'd set a precedent for it. She sighed quietly, amused despite herself. Being a parent was such a tightrope to walk. Raising a child could be exhausting, raising two children...well, hopefully they'd tire each other out.

"I've already read you your bedtime story, so it's time for sleep right away, okay?"

Nathan nodded, yawning. Darcy smiled slightly. She wondered how he was still going- he got up by seven every morning without fail, bright and chipper as the devil, meaning today he'd been awake for nearly sixteen hours. That was a very long day for him.

"Okay," he mumbled, getting in bed and burrowing under the covers.

Darcy smiled. He was the cutest thing. She turned the light off and got into bed herself, and Nathan snuggled up against her.

"I love you, mommy," he mumbled sleepily.

It was funny- as much work and exasperation children could be, then there were these little moments of them being their perfect little selves. There could never be a time when Darcy would believe Nathan wasn't worth all the work. And bringing another child into their little family...well, she would love that.

"I love you too, baby," she said, kissing his forehead. "Now go to bed."