"I wished to take the soul of my dead mother in my arms. Three times I started towards her, and my heart was urgent to hold her, and three times she fluttered out of my hands like a shadow or a dream, and sorrow sharpened at the heart within me."

-The Odyssey, Homer

The civil war in Nilfheim meant Loki was unable to visit Midgard for a month and a half, during which time he became increasingly paranoid about what could have happened. He did not trust Gwen at all with something of the scale she was planning, and anything could have happened- death, war, large-scale fire. Plague, possibly. Midgardians were not to be trusted.

He materialised down a deserted alley near to her new home, lest it actually be aflame and he appear right in the centre of the inferno. Pulling up his usual glamour, he crept cautiously out onto the main street, which was surprisingly intact, and was spotted by a member of the crowd.

"Hello, sir."

"James," Loki replied shortly.

The boy waved a small translucent box in the air. "Miss Gwen wanted me to bring her back dinner from the hotel, sir, so I'll walk back with you- I assume that's where you're going?"

Wonderful, said Loki, who even in his internal monologue was, by default, sarcastic. I have a companion. "Obviously, James." Because I would absolutely want to go anywhere else in this Midgardian tar pit.

"Okay then, sir." They had already reached the building Loki now technically part-owned, and to his surprise it looked exactly the same, save for the large and menacing man whose arm stopped Loki from entering after James.

"I would suggest removing your hand from me," Loki said coolly as the dagger he kept hidden in his sleeve dropped into his hand. "I've had a very long day and I do not have the patience for mortals who think they can stop me from doing whatever it is I want to do."

Before someone got stabbed, James intervened. "He knows the boss, sir, and I can vouch for that. She won't be very happy if you don't let him through."

The brute narrowed his eyes at Loki, but lowered his arm, and the god winked at him as he walked past. James led him into the downstairs area of the house, which had been refurbished in dark, earthy colours, and knocked on the door at the end of the hallway.

"No cold callers," a familiar voice yelled, and James chuckled as he pushed open the door.

There was a desk in the middle of the bookshelf-lined office, covered with papers and odd little trinkets that Loki guessed Gwen must have pickpocketed on reflex; she had done it to him enough times, after all, and he was sure he recognised the short throwing knife that was in a mug otherwise filled with pencils. Behind it, Algernon on her shoulder, was the woman herself.

She looked better than Loki had ever seen her. The sneak thief was leaning back in her chair with her feet up on the desk and was wearing a great deal of black silk and leather, as well as heeled boots which must have added a good hand's width to her height. Her crooked smile grew as the two men entered, and Loki noticed that the gap in it had been filled with a glittering silver tooth.

"Thought I recognised your dulcet tones, posh boy," she said, in an accent that was as rough as it had ever been- some things never changed, thankfully. "Where the hell've you been?"

"Busy," said Loki, "I assumed the Rats worked out."

"Better than I ever imagined," she said cheerfully, "and I have a very active imagination. Thanks, James."

"No problem miss," said the valet, having handed over the box. He nodded respectfully to the other two and backed out of the room.

"There was a war going on in Nifflerville or something, wasn't there?" she asked, opening the box and inhaling deeply.

"Nilfheim," Loki corrected her, taking a seat opposite her. He didn't like that she seemed a lot more comfortable than he did, since it made him feel like he was no longer the one in control, which was not a pleasant sensation. "And I have it under hand."

"I'm very proud of you," she said, through a mouthful of food. "Sorry if the guy at the door was a bit pissy about letting you in, he's one of Ben's men and he wouldn't have had a clue who you were, let alone that you were my bitch."

"You have such a way with words," said Loki, "it's almost poetic."

"Thanks, babe." She dropped the box in the bin under the desk and sucked her fingers clean. "It's so cool here, posh boy, I have my own office and everything. And we have house meetings, and they all expect me to make the big decisions." She laughed, a little disbelievingly. "If this is what power feels like, I can almost understand you trying to take over the world. Oh, I can introduce you to the new girl tagging Thor if you want. You'll like her- she's quiet and not argumentative, which I'm sure'll make a nice change for you."

Loki took his knife out of the pencil holder. "I would rather just talk to you."

"I'm flattered," she smiled.

"Don't be, I'm just trying to keep the number of Midgardians I have to talk to at a minimum."

"Still flattered," she shrugged, and Loki heard himself laugh. "You want a cup of tea?"

"No."

"Oh good, me too."

Loki followed her through several illogically placed doors into a poky kitchen. "The big one's underground," she explained, pulling two cups out of a cupboard, "all the stuff the Rats use is. They can make stuff for themselves and every Sunday James cooks a big dinner, since apparently he has a degree in catering. Who'd've thunk it?" She gave him a cup now filled with hot brown liquid, and now that she was closer Loki could appreciate the height difference the shoes gave her, since she was now only a couple of inches shorter than him.

"Thought, not thunk. I really can't express how little I care," he said, sipping the drink. It was hot, and somehow managed to be both sweet and bitter at the same time.

"What if I don't care that you don't care?" she asked, biting her lip as she grinned at him.

"Then we might end up devolving into a very cyclical and pointless argument," he replied, "and neither of us want that. This is disgusting, by the way."

"It's an acquired taste. I've missed you, by the way."

Loki choked on his tea. "Sorry?"

"Oh, I forgot you were a cold and emotionless husk of a man, who is physically repulsed by any display of feelings," she smirked, "but that doesn't mean I can't miss you." She gave him an expectant look.

"I hope you're not expecting me to return the statement," he said, and she lifted a shoulder.

"I could hug you, if it would make saying it any easier."

"And I could take advantage of your proximity to stab you," he said, "perhaps we're better maintaining our distance from each other."

"You're no fun," she pouted. "How's life as the lonely king?"

"Take the feeling of power you think you have and multiply a thousandfold," Loki instructed her, and Gwen tilted her head back and moaned softly as she imagined it. "You're still not even close."

"Gah… feel like making me your deputy, uh, monarch?"

"Not even remotely," Loki replied, inwardly shuddering at the state Asgard would fall into if he let a mortal anywhere near it- even if it was Gwen. Stop making exceptions for her, he chastised himself, she's just another irrelevant Midgardian. "And I believe the term you're looking for is crown princess."

"See?" she said triumphantly. "I would make a great one of those!"

%

That night, back in his Asgardian quarters, Loki dreamed of Frigga.

It happened more often than he would care to admit, but this time it was different. Before, his mother had been elusive and he would have to chase her, only to see a dark elf put a knife in her just as he reached them; this was a recurring nightmare, in fact, and not one he enjoyed. Again, that feeling of powerlessness haunted him.

Tonight, however, he was back in his old cell in the base of Asgard, as he and Frigga slowly circled each other.

"If you're here to talk to me about Odin-" he began, but as she raised her hand he fell silent.

"That is a discussion for another time, my dear, but it is definitely one we are going to have." Her voice was stern and in different circumstances Loki might have been intimidated by it, but now his heart leapt as she spoke for the first time in too long.

"I miss you," he said.

"I know."

"I should have done something."

"That would have been a little difficult," said Frigga sagely, "when you were stuck in here. However, it was your own actions that put you in this cell, so…"

"I'm sorry."

"I know, my darling, I know you are. And I know that you are trying to atone for it with your rule on Asgard, even if you don't. Even if there are other things you should feel guilty over, and unfailingly do not."

That had never occurred to Loki- but then, his mother was almost always right. "You're not my mother," he said, speaking the familiar words he always muttered to himself after his nightmares. "You're just my subconscious, trying to scare me. Or in this case, apparently, talk some sense into me."

Frigga laughed. "And why should that make any difference? Loki, admit that you have feelings for the girl."

"What girl?" he asked, and Frigga raised an eyebrow at him. "There are plenty in Asgard alone who-"

"I'm not talking about the women you've taken to bed, Loki, and you know it. Just because she is Midgardian-"

"There is no 'just' about it, mother, they are inferior in every way."

"Enough of your bigotry. You should know more than anyone how damaging it can be, what with your true parentage."

"That was unneeded," Loki muttered. "And who cares if it is damaging? Her life will pass in the blink of an eye compared to mine."

"That girl has over half a century left in her yet, and I can assure you that is quite long enough to love someone."

He laughed coldly. "Love is for children."

"And wasn't it a human who told you that? It is precisely because their lives are so fleeting that Midgardians have achieved things we cannot imagine," Frigga said calmly, "look at Gwen. A year ago she had nothing, and now half of New York's underworld relies on her and her Rats."

"With my help," he added.

"Oh," said Frigga, "I had forgotten. Of course, you achieved everything you have on your own. Very admirable."

"Now I know you're my subconscious," said Loki, "since you're being sarcastic." But it hurt to look at her nonetheless.

"But I'm also right. And she also doesn't care about the things you have done," said Frigga, "you won't find many people like that in any realm."

"That's because she's no better than I am," Loki retorted.

"If you insist. But that does mean she is your equal," she pointed out, "if you can stomach that."

"She's not even attractive," said Loki, already scraping the bottom of the barrel for arguments. "Not really."

"She is to you."

He gave up, and thought about what it would be like to kiss Gwen; her lips looked like they would be soft, tilted up in her usual smirk against his own, and he could imagine her piercing snagging on his teeth… "She's still feral," he mumbled, and Frigga smiled.

"She makes you laugh, Loki, and she's clever enough that you have to think yourself in order to keep up with her. I'm not saying that she will make you happy, but she can hold your attention better than anybody else. And I think you need distracting." She finally approached him, and as he reached out to her his hand passed through hers like it was smoke. "Not to mention she's just as tricksy as you are."

He laughed weakly. "Please don't leave me."

"I was never here in the first place, sweetheart. Just stop holding yourself back around her." Her fingers caressed his face gently, and it felt like the lightest of breezes. "You need somebody to hold onto."

He jerked upright, awake and back in his bed in the glamour of Odin, breathing heavily. One of the handmaidens stood by the chamber door looked over to him and smiled sadly in the gloom.

"Frigga again, my lord?"

Jaw clenched tight, he nodded.

"Well," she said, "we can't choose who we fall in love with."

I am not in love with her, he thought, and his ever-persisten subconscious brought one painful old memory to the fore of his mind. More specifically, the last thing Frigga had ever said to him.

"Always so perceptive, about everyone but yourself."

He collapsed back onto the bed and cursed himself for thinking going to Midgard would ever be a good idea.

A/N see, as popular as the angst-ridden Loki of Thor and the flat-out evil Loki of Avengers are, my favourite remains to be snarky, bitchy, doesn't-really-give-a-shit Loki of The Dark World, possibly because he's the most like the one in the stories I read as a kid. He's more fun, anyway. I could go for a pint with him- I'd probably be dead by the end of the night, but still. I reckon it would be worth it.