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When the memories came, it was like a thunderstorm in reverse.

The trickle of familiarity in Odin's mind had started with the white mask in Doctor Strange's artifact case. There was something about that mask – the rounded black eyes, the long slender ears, the silently pursed white lips – that he couldn't place exactly. The only thing he could attach to that face was the vaguest feeling of a book in his hands.

The memory was so intangible, so alien, that it felt impossible that he could even grasp it. The more he thought about it, however, he could almost remember the feeling of a book in his hands, and the swirls of a rippling illustration, and wriggling children at his sides. . . .

Suddenly, unexpectedly, everything exploded into his mind like thunderclaps.

King of Asgard.

Son of Bor.

Father of. . . Thor. Father of Loki.

Of course. The stories of the Dark Elves. Loki and Thor were fascinated with the creatures; they were mesmerized by the rhymes their mother taught them.

Their mother.

Frigga.

With the beautiful memory came a sudden, crashing wave of grief, and Odin's breath caught in his throat. Panting slightly, he allowed himself to lean against the windowsill, pressing his forehead to the cool glass of the window.

Yes. Frigga was dead. But that had happened some time ago, much farther back. . . .

A steady stream of finer details began flooding through his mind. Recent events flashed before his eyes – the guard, back on Asgard, telling him that Thor was missing and Loki was dead. After that, it was darkness – all the memories obscured by the worst of the fog. But he could remember where he was, and he could remember the kindness of his host.

Odin's eyes opened.

It had taken a month, but Odin was back.

"Odin?" As usual, Strange knocked twice on the door and listened for the reply. There was no reply this time; unusual. Strange frowned. "Odin?" He opened the door.

The Allfather stood by the window, one hand braced against the sill as if steadying himself. He turned around, and Strange could tell immediately that something had changed. There was a different light to Odin's eyes now, and he even held himself differently; straighter, taller, more kingly. After three weeks of seeing Odin every day, the change was apparent.

"Doctor Strange," the old Asgardian said with a nod. "Guardian of Midgard, if I'm not mistaken."

Strange relaxed, a smile coming over his face. "Welcome back, Allfather."

Odin was looking around. "We are on Earth, yes?"

"The one and only. Welcome to the third rock from the sun." Strange frowned in thought. "At least – our sun. Different solar system."

"I am not a stranger to your planet." Odin nodded to himself. "I was here once, many years ago." He glanced outside at New York City, and the silver high-rises and bright yellow taxicabs below. "I must say it's changed quite a bit."

"We had an industrial revolution a short while back. Helped a lot." Strange nodded and took in a sharp breath. "So, I can take you back to Asgard – I might need to pull a few strings, but it should –"

"No!" Odin barked.

Strange cut himself off and looked at the Allfather in surprise.

Odin rubbed a hand over his head. "I will not be returning to Asgard."

Strange frowned and took a step forward. "Odin. . . you're the king."

"No," Odin said, softer. "No, not anymore. I choose exile."

Well, great. Strange was going to have to try to talk him out of this. "Odin, back on Asgard –"

"Asgard," Odin said firmly, cutting him off, "is no longer my concern." He turned away, shaking his head. "All my years, it seems, have been spent ruling the Nine Realms. It's time now for a new king. I would like to rest now."

Strange finally relented with a long sigh. "You're sure about this?" he asked the Asgardian.

"I have never been surer."

"Yeah, I was afraid of that," Strange muttered. He raised his eyebrows. "Well, you're welcome to stay at the Sanctum, but I can take you anywhere on Earth, if you want. New York's a little. . . . It's not for everybody."

Odin looked out the window again. "Earth has its beautiful places," he said after a moment of thought. "As does Asgard. Its blights, as well, but if I am to remain in exile. . ." He trailed off. "I would like to see one of Earth's beautiful places."

"Hmm," Strange hummed, frowning in thought. He narrowed his eyes before looking back at Odin. "I think I have an idea," he said. He slipped the sling ring onto his fingers, rotating one arm in the air until a fizzling orange portal appeared midair. He turned to Odin. "Ever been to Norway?"

Cold ocean air whipped against Strange's face as he stepped through the portal, and his feet sank into a few inches of thick green grass.

Almost immediately, he could feel the Cloak of Levitation shiver slightly and cling closer to his legs. While the Cloak loved a dramatic wind, it much preferred a warm wind.

Stephen heard Odin take in a deep breath and let it out as a hushed sigh of bliss. Glancing over, he realized Odin's eyes were closed.

Strange squinted into the bright blue horizon. "Not too bad, right?"

"It's beautiful," Odin said.

Strange tilted his head to one side in consideration. "It's. . . secluded. Thought it would be what you're looking for."

Odin nodded once. "It will do perfectly."

The wind filled in the silence for a moment, whistling in their ears and sending shivers through the grass. Hundreds of feet below them, dark grey waves crashed against land, looking small from far away.

When Strange looked back at Odin, the Asgardian's head was hanging low.

Stephen frowned. "Allfather?"

"I must ask a favor of you," Odin said. He finally looked up, squinting against the wind. "Provided I am no longer king, I know I can hardly order anything of you. So instead I shall simply insist."

Strange watched the old Asgardian, waiting.

"I have chosen to live in exile," Odin said, "and in exile I will remain. I wish to be left here, in this beautiful place, alone." He took a deep breath. "For the rest of my days."

Strange's eyebrows furrowed. "Thor will come for you," he said. "Eventually, when he goes back to Asgard, he'll see you absent from the throne. He'll come looking for you."

Odin didn't look at him directly. "And should I expect you to lie to my son?"

"Mmm." Strange shook his head to one side. "I've found that when dealing with demigods, honesty really is the best policy."

Odin smiled. "You are a smart man." He took a deep breath. "No, I wouldn't expect you to lie to my son." The Asgardian gave a short, humorless chuckle. "I have done enough of that myself, throughout my time with him. Very well, if he asks, you needn't lie. Tell him the truth, tell him I wish to be alone. It will be up to him whether he obeys the final wish of his father."

Strange nodded his head to one side. "That I can do."

"Your kindness will not be forgotten. And you have my gratitude." Odin pressed his right arm to his chest and nodded his head – an Asgardian salute.

"It was my pleasure." Strange mimicked the gesture, pressing one arm to his chest and bowing lower in respect. He straightened up and gave a short smile. "You know how to contact me if you need anything else."

He started walking back to the portal, which remained open.

"What about any unusual circumstances?" Strange asked over his shoulder. "Possible exceptions, special cases, isolated incidents I should know about? Then can I send Thor here to bother you?"

He could hear Odin chuckle. "Farewell, sorcerer."

Strange smiled and stepped inside the ring of the portal. With both feet on the wooden floor of his New York Sanctum, he turned and nodded at Odin from halfway across the world. "Goodbye, Allfather."

With a flick his wrist, the portal swiveled into itself, leaving only a handful of sparks behind.

A/N: Thank you for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing! I hope you all enjoyed this three-shot. :D