"My Lord," said a guard, "Heimdall is here to see you."
"If this is a complaint about the triumph for Rig, I don't want to hear it."
"I believe the Bifrost has a vermin problem."
Loki propped himself up from his slumped position on the golden throne. "What?"
"He said something about mice."
The wine Loki had been drinking suddenly tasted very sour. "Send him in," he said, "and as for the rest of you – get out."
While he waited for Heimdall to enter the vaulted golden hall, Loki jumped down off of the throne and grabbed another flagon of sweet wine from a table. By the time the gatekeeper had made it to him, he was two glasses into it. "If you're here to lecture me," he said, "I don't want to hear it."
"Your anger is making you reckless," Heimdall said calmly, not acknowledging the flagon Loki offered him. It was infuriating, how, how… unaffected he was.
"I'm not reckless," Loki snapped. "This is justified. Aren't you aware, Goldeneyes, of how much I've been through? How much I've suffered? I deserve a damn statue! But it all goes unappreciated." He jabbed a finger at the doorway, beyond which the rest of Asgard lay. "They should worship me. I will make them worship me. I will have festivals held in my honour because nobody, nobody disrespects me. Especially not some rat-brat from Midgard."
"Your father is dying."
"Impossible."
"He no longer has the support of his people," Heimdall continued as though he had not been interrupted by the overlord of the Nine Realms. "The attention they gave you is not enough to sustain him, especially now you are neglecting your duties."
"I am doing no such thing."
"When was the last time you left the palace grounds?" Heimdall asked, as though he didn't already know the answer.
"I don't need to," Loki scowled, "I have guards to do that for me."
"Loki," said Heimdall. "Your father cannot continue like this. I know you plan on hiding him from Thor on Earth, but by doing so you will kill him. His death will unleash a storm upon this world the likes of which we have never seen –"
"Do you really have so little faith in me?"
"Yes."
Loki hadn't been expecting that. It managed to stun him, just for a moment, and when the shock left the anger set in. "How dare you?" he asked. "How dare you? Don't you remember who I am, gatekeeper?"
"Better than you do, it seems. I have known you since you were a child, little prince. I know all too well when your heart overrules your head –"
Loki dropped his glass and drew back his fist, vision turning red as though he were falling back into frost giant form. In that moment he could not think of anything more satisfying than the blossoming pain that came with punching an Asgardian round the face.
Heimdall's arm blurred and he caught Loki's hand before it could land the blow. "You need to stop drinking," he said.
"This is treason," Loki hissed, and Heimdall had the nerve to shrug.
"Then I resign from my post."
"You can't do that! If you do then I'll arrest you!"
"Right," said Heimdall, "good luck with that." And then he punched Loki on the nose.
%
The doorbell rang. This was weird, because nobody ever rang the Burrow's doorbell. This was because there was usually two very large, burly men standing in the way of it, doing their best to look innocent and inconspicuous. This didn't work much, but at least it stopped people from unnecessarily ringing the doorbell.
Until now, it seemed. Gwen grabbed a handgun and hobbled down the stairs, wincing with every other step. Since coming back from Alfheim her bad leg was worse than ever; she was going to have to get a cane. She kicked her shoes off so whoever was ringing the bell wouldn't hear her footsteps, held the gun to the door at gut height and, without undoing the latch, pulled it open.
There was a short old man with an eyepatch and a fluffy white beard on her doorstep. He didn't look as though he was… all there. "Can I help you?" Gwen asked, pulling back the safety. And then she saw who he was with. "Oh, for fuck's sake."
Opening the door fully and tucking the gun into the waistband of her jeans, Gwen prepared to kick Loki all the way back to Asgard. There were dark shadows under his eyes, he was swaying a little and, last but not least, his nose had been broken and there was blood all over his face.
"This is my father," he said, slurring slightly. "I'm sure you'll get along."
"What the hell are you –"
"I told you before," Loki snarled. "He's staying on Earth until he finally bites the dust – which, if I'm lucky, should be any day now. I'll reimburse you when he's dead."
"Hang on," said Gwen, "you can't just –"
He turned around, nearly fell over, and disappeared in a purple flash.
"Bastard!" She turned to Odin, who had been stood there impassively the entire time. "You'd better come in."
Bobby was in the kitchen. "Who's the tramp?" she asked, as Odin shuffled in behind Gwen.
"King of Asgard."
"He hasn't taken the break-up well, then?"
"The real king," said Gwen, "this is his dad. But… no. He hasn't."
"So that's how you know my son," said Odin, and the two women jumped. "I never expected him to fall in love with a human."
"Thanks," Gwen muttered. "I'll put the kettle on, shall I?"
She got one of the Rats to look up a nearby retirement home on the internet and called the number while Odin sat at the kitchen table and was generally fawned over by her girls. They all seemed to get along quite well, and if it weren't for the fact that the idea of having her ex's estranged father living with them was literally the worst thing she could ever imagine and she had had some really bad trips she felt as though he would have been fine living out his days in the Burrow.
"Shady Acres Rest Home," said a sickeningly chirpy voice on the end, "how can I help you?"
"Hi," said Gwen. "I'm looking to deposit an old person at your establishment."
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but since the home is due to be demolished in four months we aren't currently taking on any new –"
I'll give you half a million to take him until then."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "When would you like them to move in, ma'am?"
Once it had all been sorted out, Gwen shooed the Rats out from the kitchen and sat down opposite Odin. He met her glare evenly, without any kind of malice or ill intent in his one eye. "Are you really dying?" she asked him.
"Perhaps."
"Where was Loki keeping you?"
"Knowhere. He came to visit me once or twice. I believe that, one of those times, he took you with him. It is a shame that we didn't meet then."
For some reason that made Gwen angry. Why hadn't he trusted her enough to tell her this? Sure, she kept secrets too, but this was different. Wasn't it? "Why did he move you?"
"Because Earth has just become safer than Knowhere, due to the presence of the Sorcerer Supreme."
"The what-now?"
"Stephen Strange," said Odin. "He will no doubt know that I am here. You will most likely be contacted by him soon."
"I know him already," she said shortly. "The wizard on Bleecker Street. Does you being on Earth put it in any more danger?"
"No."
"Good. The porters from Shady Acres will be here to pick you up in half an hour." She stood up and marched for the kitchen door.
"What is your name?" Odin asked her.
She hesitated. "Why do you want to know?"
"Because my son loves you."
"Not anymore, he doesn't," she muttered, and Odin chuckled.
"Oh, to be young. Tell me your name, child."
"I've got a few. Which one would you like?"
"The truest one."
"That's not an option. You can use Gwen," she said. "Since you're almost family."
"I must thank you, Gwen," said Odin.
"It's not that nice of a retirement home, really."
"Not for that. For suffering Loki better than anyone did since his mother died. I knew there had to be a woman stopping him from killing the world."
Gwen looked over her shoulder. "I didn't suffer him," she said. "And I never stopped him from doing anything. I just loved him, that's all. Maybe you should try it sometime."
For the first time, Odin showed some flicker of emotion: for a moment, she could see sadness in his eye. "I think it might be too late for that," he murmured. "But thank you, all the same."