A/N: Woohoo! Another chapter today, for your reading pleasure! And this is the one where everything starts happening at once... Only a few more chapters (maybe one!) until Part Two of Book Two is done, and then onto Book Three!

If you liked the chapter, please leave a review (if you remember by the time you finish reading - it's a long chapter again.)

Hugs!

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

A kiss from your lips

On a night like this,

Like an explosion, in my soul

Sweet love words

Something good to be heard

Like an explosion, can't control

- "Explosion (In Your Soul)", The Soul Survivors

He had lain beside her the entire night, watching her sleep.

Her hands had been coated in the dried blood of the Einherjar – he had washed them gently, so as not to wake her, but she was so exhausted she slept on…

Once, she had awoken slightly, and gazed at him, eyes half-open, a small smile on her face, and she had asked him softly, "Am I dead? Is this heaven?"

He had tried to conceal the tears that sprang to eyes after that – had kissed her forehead and stroked her hair and whispered to her that she was safe, that he was there with her – he told her how brave she had been, and told her to sleep.

He held her hand as she slept beside him, eyes never leaving her face.

Now, he was back in his room, exhausted – the panic of the day before had left him drained and wan – but still he could not sleep.

She sat up slowly, wincing slightly – Eir's potion had done its work, though it had taken several days - Eir had reassured her that her ribs were no longer broken, but there was still a faint ache in her chest that she could not shake.

She rubbed her ribs absentmindedly as she stood up.

She made her way towards the closet – Thor had visited her a few hours ago, and told her that today was the day Odin wished to see her.

The door creaked open, slowly – she spun around, heart pounding fast – ow – and saw her startled maidservant standing there.

"My lady, is everything all right?" she asked, eyes wide.

Alana's shoulders lost their tension; she sighed. "Yes, I'm sorry – you startled me, a bit."

Her servant nodded like that was to be expected, she then told Alana to sit down as she picked out a dress, and began gushing about the Einherjar that had been standing vigil for her.

"You should have seen them, Lady Sigyn, all plated and armored, standing guard outside your doorway in shifts – and they were practically dragged away by the next group, none of them wished to leave your side – I rather think that they would have watched over your bedside if Thor hadn't rebuked them – isn't it lovely, the way he looks after you? Everyone thinks that the both of you must accompany the other to the Sumarsmal feast – I know you haven't been to one before, my lady, how dreadful! They are so grand…"

She prattled on and on and Alana suddenly felt very tired.

The maid began to tie the laces up on the back of her dress; she looked down to find herself in a gown that seemed to be spun from pure gold.

She stared at herself in the mirror; she barely recognized herself. Staring back at her was someone powerful, someone regal and dignified in a way she knew she could never be – she swallowed and looked away.

The maid placed her circlet on her head, and handed her the gauntlets.

She swallowed again, twisted the dial, and watched them flow up to gold bands encircling her arms.

There was a knock on the door; the maid went to answer it, and Thor entered.

He bowed slightly. "Lady Sigyn."

She inclined her head and stood up – ow – he offered her his arm, and escorted her out.

Odin sat rigidly on the throne, Einherjar flanking the walls around him.

He could no longer deny that the Midgardian was a capable soldier – Thor's report last night had more than proved that – and the number of Einherjar that she had healed was immense.

Though it pained him to admit it, Loki's toy was proving useful to the realm as the armustar, and – well. He could not disagree that if she had not been present during the battle that things would have gone much the worst.

But she was still fragile, as this fight had proven – her stamina was not enough to fight and heal – and he was loath to stop her doing either.

He knew what he had to do, but it soured in his mouth all the same – such a thing had only been done twice in Asgard's history, with imperfect consequences – but her advantages were too much to deny.

The door opened, and she entered, Thor a few steps behind her, and he did not miss the quieting of the crowd or Einherjar straightening as she entered.

She knelt before him. "Your Majesty," she said.

"You have done the realms a great service."

She looked down. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"You have saved thirty lives, which cannot be overlooked."

The Einherjar stood straighter, some more somber than others.

"Therefore, the Council has decided to grant you a great honor."

She looked up at him, puzzled.

"At the feast of Sumarsmal, you will be presented with one of the Golden Apples of Idunn."

There were soft murmurings of approval from among the Einherjar at this.

Odin continued, "The Golden Apples are given to warriors who have distinguished themselves above their line of service to the realm."

She bowed her head, still confused – Thor's worry was burning bright behind her – he didn't want Odin to say anything else.

"Thank you, Allfather, for this honor," she said, her voice clear. "I am humbled that you think me deserving of it."

"Rise," Odin said, and she did so; he stood as well.

Applause began to ring from the people surrounding her, she turned towards them; they were clapping for her and she swallowed, her throat feeling thick with emotion.

Thor escorted her back to her room, afterwards – she was exhausted and that ache on her ribs was only worsening.

Once they were to her room, he shut the door and locked it.

"The Golden Apples are not merely a military honor," he said, softly. "Father wants you to become an Aesir, and the Apples will facilitate that."

Her jaw dropped. "What?"

Thor nodded, his eyes serious. "It has only been done twice in the history of all Asgard – and the results were – less than perfect, but he thinks you too valuable to lose in eighty years."

She held up her hands, her heart still pounding. "Wait, wait – me? An Aesir? How would that work, what would – "

Thor shook his head. "I do not know. I have never seen it happen before. But, it would extend your lifespan – you would live as long as Loki or I – as well as increase your physical prowess and stamina."

She sat down, dazed. "This is a lot to take in," she managed.

Thor smiled faintly. "I can imagine. Do you want me to leave, or…"

She nodded slightly, and said "Thank you."

He inclined his head and left.

Her head was spinning, what did this mean? Was it finally, finally possible that she could live with Loki for thousands of years, to grow old with him?

But Thor's words came back to her – the results were less than perfect – and she swallowed slightly.

She had to take that chance. She had to.

The morning of Sumarsmal dawned bright and warm and clear, and more than anything, she wanted the wind in her hair and the sun on her face.

She dressed in breeches and a dark shirt, pulled on her boots, strapped on her gauntlets, and headed for the stables.

She ran into Thor on the way there. "Out for a ride?" he asked, his eyes twinkling in an odd way. She nodded and they parted, and she made her way down to the stables, where the perpetually nervous stable hand followed her as she made her way down the aisles, looking at the horses.

She patted the muzzle of a dark horse, who pushed his nose closer to her and whickered softly. She smiled in spite of herself. "Can I ride this one?" she asked, turning to the stable hand. "What's his name?"

The stable hand looked slightly uncomfortable. "That… is Svadilfari, my lady, but he… well. He was once Loki's horse."

She bit back her smile. "Does that hinder my riding him?"

The stable hand looked embarrassed. "Of course not, my lady. Especially… well, under the circumstances. I'll prepare him at once."

Less than ten minutes later she was flying down the green hills beside the cliff that led to the sea. Svadilfari was a pleasure to ride, responsive and eager, and the wind in her hair and the smell of the sea made the hole in her heart close a little more.

Loki awakened to the sun streaming through the balcony and swung his legs off the side of the bed.

He would not deny that he had been waiting for this morning for days and days… but he was hesitant, all the same, as he opened the door slightly.

A satisfied expression crept across his face as he saw the corridor empty and bare of the guards.

Thor visited him as he was pulling on his boots. He scratched his neck and said, "You might find it a good day for a ride."

He smiled. "Thank you, brother."

Less than ten minutes later he was at the stables, Bragi's eyes widening at the sight of him.

He raised his hands slightly – he could see a touch of fear in Bragi's eyes. "Is Svadilfari here?" he asked, politely.

The stable hand looked frightened. "I thought…" he began, then visibly closed his mouth.

Loki walked past him, hands behind his back. Bragi had been raised by Odin's master of horses and had subsequently spent much time with both him and Thor in their childhoods. "Nothing is wrong. The Allfather, in his… generosity…" (He was unable to keep a slight note of sarcasm out of his voice, hard as he tried) "has released me for the day of the festival."

Bragi swallowed. "Of course… my lord."

"Will you not prepare my horse, then?"

He swallowed again. "My lord, Svadilfari has been taken out by someone else."

Loki turned to him, brow furrowed. "Who?"

Sif and Volstagg arrived at the stables to find a more-than-usually-worried Bragi. Twisting his hands, he explained to them what had happened.

"You see, the lady Sigyn arrived and took a liking to Svadilfari, and of course since Loki was imprisoned I thought it fine to let her take him, but then Loki himself arrived and… well, I couldn't read his face at all after I told him that someone else had taken Svadilfari, he demanded to know where she had gone – I told him, but I think that he may be quite upset, and I fear for the lady Sigyn if he should catch up to her."

Sif's face was as dark as thunder. "Come, Volstagg, jousting must wait. Bragi, prepare our horses."

He laughed with delight as he pounded through the hills, following her trail.

The scent of the grass and the sea and the feeling of freedom overwhelmed him, the speed of his mount carrying him along towards her, the utter joy that he had not felt for so long penetrated his soul, and for the first time in weeks, he felt at peace.

The hills tapered off into a white beach – and up ahead he could spy a dark horse and rider, rounding the cliff, becoming unseen.

He urged his horse faster, her hooves pounding against the ground.

Alana.

She rounded the base of the bluff, slowing Svadilfari to a walk, absently rubbing his neck.

The waves were so beautiful here – it reminded her of the beach that she had taken Loki to years and years ago.

She stiffened as the pounding of hoofbeats came from behind her – she turned to see who it was, instinctively reaching out with her mind, but before she could barely touch his thoughts he had reined in his horse beside her, and his eyes sparkled with delight as her mouth opened in shock.

She reached out to touch his face. "Loki?" she whispered softly.

He kissed her palm and smiled. "Gods, I missed you," he said, voice quiet and low.

"I'm definitely hallucinating."

And suddenly his lips were on hers, warm and fierce, and her hands tangled into his hair and she felt tears spill out of her closed eyes – Loki, Loki, Loki – and the hole inside her had been filled to bursting all of a sudden.

He rested his forehead against hers. "Alana," he whispered, and she closed her eyes again, savoring the sound of her name on his tongue – her name.

He kissed away her tears, his hand cradling her chin, and then she kissed him hard, not wanting the moment to ever end.

But then she felt a light – no, two – coming in fast from the beach, almost to the bluff around which they were concealed.

She broke the kiss and said, "Loki, someone's coming."

He frowned slightly. "How long?"

She closed her eyes for a second, then answered, "Ten seconds, I think."

"Perfect," he said and kissed her again, even more fervently than before, tugging a gasp from her.

Two seconds to go and she could not bring herself to pull away, even though she could now identify the minds – Sif and Volstagg.

And then the pounding hoofbeats behind them and Loki's hand slipped out of her hair and his lips departed from hers and they were riding their horses at a leisurely pace side by side as Sif and Volstagg halted their horses in front of them.

"Good morning!" she said to them. "It was nice of you to come and join me. The group keeps increasing, it seems," she laughed lightly, gesturing to Loki.

Volstagg frowned. "I see you two have met, then."

She nodded, the smile still on her face, though it was beginning to feel a bit forced.

Sif said, "We should probably head back to the palace. There is much preparation to do before the feast."

Loki laughed. "Sif, the feast is not until sundown."

Sif glared at him. "Why the Allfather has agreed to release you for the feast I cannot fathom. It would be better for all if you returned to your cell."

"But I have just made a new acquaintance," Loki said lightly. "Surely you would not begrudge me the opportunity to know the newest member of your little troop?"

Sif growled and Volstagg frowned. "I cannot control either him, or you," she said, turning to Alana, "but Sigyn, I strongly suggest that you take your leave of this criminal."

She smiled politely. "I have not finished my ride, Sif. Thank you for coming to check on me, though – I do appreciate it. I don't want to hinder either of you any further – you can return to the palace if you need to. I'm sure I'll be quite fine."

Sif frowned but wheeled her horse around and took her leave of them. Volstagg rode past Loki, halting only to mutter something to him that hardened Loki's face, then leaving as well, nodding to her as he did so.

She let out a sigh of relief once they had ridden far enough away that the sound of the ocean would hinder their hearing. "That was close," she said, but Loki stayed silent.

"What did he say to you?" she asked quietly. "Loki?"

But his face was still hard and distant – she was tempted to reach into his mind but refrained.

"Loki?" she asked again, softly.

He looked down and away from her. "It's fine, love. It's nothing."

She took his hand; he squeezed it once.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm afraid it'll always be like this." He gestured vaguely in the direction in which Sif and Volstagg had left.

"Not always," she whispered, touching his cheek.

He sighed deeply, and when he looked back up at her his eyes were clear.

They sat on a cliff overlooking the sea, the horses grazing peacefully behind them.

Alana's head rested on his shoulder, her fingers wrapped in his.

He kissed her forehead, and she sighed contentedly.

They sat there in silence for a while, then she said, "Odin's going to give me a Golden Apple."

He stiffened and turned in surprise. "What?"

She nodded. "Thor said it's because he wants me to be able to fight for longer."

Loki shook his head, smiling slightly. "Of course he does."

It was as though a heavy weight had been lifted off his heart, and he pulled her close again, reveling in her touch – now his for as long as he would live. He would see her grow old – perhaps they would have children, someday –

She shifted and said, "But he also said that it had only been done twice, a long time ago, and that something happened to them – something bad."

The happiness evaporated – he remembered the smallest section of a book of Asgard's history, detailing the pain and the suffering that followed when a Midgardian ate of Idunn's golden apples.

She sighed. "I'll probably take it, all the same."

"Alana, it's dangerous. You could – " and he broke off, turning his head away.

She touched his cheek. "It's worth the risk. Besides, the people who took it before weren't like me – they didn't have powers. Maybe it'll be okay."

He sighed. "Regardless, it'll be painful."

She looked away. "I know. But I can take it."

He could not help but stare at her, feeling that his love for her must be pouring from his veins, from his eyes – how far, she would go, to stay with him, how much she would endure if it meant she had a chance.

She glanced at him and smiled, and pulled him in for a kiss.

She had kissed him in the hills one last time, and then their masks had slipped back on as they entered the stables to find Bragi having a sigh of relief to see her safe and unharmed.

She inclined her head politely to Loki as she left the stable, but brushed his mind as she walked away from him – I love you – and she could feel the light emanating from him as she departed, saying, I'll see you soon, love.

Back at the palace, her maids were frantic with excitement, showing her a multitude of new gowns that had been made for the occasion, in every shade of the rainbow and then some, fabrics as soft and light as silk and plush as velvet.

They had her try on all of them, but the one that caught her eye was one of deep purple, with streaks of gold shimmering through like stars, with a golden belt slung low on her hips.

"This one," she said, and the maids agreed.

They arranged her hair simply but elegantly – by now, her maids had some sense of her taste – and she twisted her gauntlets into golden bands around her arms.

A maid placed her circlet on her head and another placed her slippers on her feet, and she stared at herself in the looking glass, still unsure who was staring back – was it Sigyn, or Alana? Was it a warrior, a healer, the armustar, or just a mortal, the imposter at the feast?

She dismissed the maids, and studied the charm of her necklace bearing his fingerprint.

She sighed and dropped the charms down the front of her dress.

Time for the feast.

There was a long line of lords and ladies waiting to enter the ballroom, to greet Odin and Thor – she patiently took her place behind them, and waited.

She could hear the music playing, and the chatter of hundreds of voices, and see the flickering lights within the ballroom.

She greeted several Einherjar and their escorts with a smile, but she could not help scanning the crowd for a particular dark head and a back draped in green.

Finally she was close to the front of the line – she looked at Odin and Thor for the first time that night and had to bite back a gasp – for standing next to them was Loki.

And then it was her turn and she took a deep breath and walked towards them. When she reached them, she curtseyed deeply to Odin. "Your Majesty," she said.

"Rise, Lady Sigyn," he said. His pale eye met hers. "Enjoy yourself. We shall present your award on the twelfth hour."

She inclined her head. "Thank you, Your Majesty." She curtseyed slightly and moved to the right, to Thor, as another Aesir took her place greeting Odin.

Thor bowed slightly. "My lady. How have you been?"

She smiled a bit. "Well, thank you."

He kissed her hand. "I look forward to conversing with you later on."

She bowed her head and curtseyed again and moved to the right, to Loki.

"Lady Sigyn," he said, and bent over her hand, his eyes fixed intently on hers, his lips barely grazing her skin, and a shiver went up her back. "How lovely to make your acquaintance again."

She curtseyed to him as his fingers slipped away from hers. "Your Highness."

"I should be honored to dance with you later this evening, my lady," he said, his eyes mischievous

"The honor would be mine, Your Highness."

His lips touched her hand once more and he released her.

She moved away from him, looking back once, his eyes meeting hers. He smiled slightly, then turned back towards the next lady, an elderly woman accompanied by an even older man, who looked more than a little worried.

But as she watched, the nameless Aesir slowly smiled at him, and the nameless lord seemed to soften, and they left Loki talking quietly to each other, with pleased smiles on their faces.

She shook her head slightly, a fond smile on her face, and she dared to hope that perhaps Odin would release him after the feast.

An hour or so later, and the guests had all arrived, and were mingling together in a sea of silks and robes and armor, dining on light refreshments as the orchestra played a melody.

As the song ended, a wave of applause rose up around her.

Odin stood in front of the crowd. "This is a time for merriment and dancing, feasting and celebration," he said. "Let the feast of Sumarsmal begin!" A roar of approval came from the crowd around her, and the orchestra began to play a merry tune. Couples partnered and began to dance, and tables piled high with fruits and meats and delicacies were brought out.

A hand tapped her on the shoulder and she turned to see Thor there. "Would you care to dance?" he asked politely.

"Thank you, Your Highness, but I think you should ask Lady Sif," she replied, formally. "There are far too many rumors circulating about the two of us already."

He winked at her and leaned closer. "True, but I will enjoy seeing the look on Loki's face."

"Thor," she scolded, but smiled in spite of herself. "Very well."

She took his arm and he led her out to the dance floor.

Whirls of color, of silk and satin and lace, surrounded her and made her feel as if she were floating on a cloud.

Her head was subtly aching, though; the gods' thoughts were not quiet, especially under the influence of alcohol and merrymaking, and she was struggling to keep her mind her own, to not get overwhelmed by the vivid, swirling lights surrounding her on all sides.

Thor bowed to her as the song ended and went to go speak to one of the Einherjar. Another man with long brown hair and a short beard asked for a dance, to which she consented, though not after surreptitiously glancing at where Loki was now leaning, up against the wall.

His eyes met hers, and she smiled at him for a moment before a new song began and she was whirled around the floor, away from where he stood.

"You are by far the most beautiful woman here, Lady Sigyn," her partner said. She gave him a polite smile and said, "You have me at a disadvantage, my lord. You know my name, but I am afraid I do not know yours."

Her partner introduced himself as Lord Meili, and then continued to make small talk with her, alternately complimenting her and insisting that he was the luckiest man in the room. She smiled slightly, wondering what he would think of her if he knew she was Midgardian.

His conversation soon grew tedious, however, and she began to long for the song to end so that she could escape him.

She tuned him out for a while, smiling and occasionally nodding, as she deemed necessary, catching Loki's eye over his shoulder and grimacing faintly.

His mouth curled up into a smile at that and he mouthed, Need a hand?

She shook her head; it had been drilled into her head that it was disrespectful to abandon your partner until the song was over, and she did not intend to begin the night by breaking the rules.

"… maybe at least a hundred," her partner went on. "I could have killed more, but, you understand, Jotunheim is quite chilly at that time of year, and I didn't have my cloak!" He laughed heartily, and then paused as he saw her face. "Are you all right, my lady?"

"Actually," she responded, her voice chilly, the thought of broken rules vanishing from her mind, intending to make her excuses and leave, when a voice behind her interrupted, "Excuse me."

Meili turned to look, bowing his head formally as he recognized Loki.

"Might I cut in?" His voice was like steel; he was clearly not going to take no for an answer.

Meili, looking a little put out, but clearly unwilling to upset the prince, grudgingly relinquished his grasp on her. Loki's hand sought hers, fingers entwining, palms fitting together perfectly, and he placed his other hand on her waist, fitting against the small of her back, clutching her to him tightly. A new song started, and they began to twirl around the floor. She let out a small sigh of relief.

"What did he do to you?" Loki asked, eyes dark and menacing.

She sighed again. "Nothing, Loki… He was just bragging about having murdered a hundred Jotunns."

He let out a small breath of relief. "Oh."

"Loki, you make it sound like that's a good thing."

"It's not," he told her. "I don't think that. But what I was thinking… well. That was worse."

She rolled her eyes. "You're a just a little bit too overprotective of me, Loki. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can, love. But seeing you dance with other men, smile at them as they compliment you… that burns."

He whispered in her ear, "And seeing you with Thor?" The hand on her back pulled her closer to him. "That burned most of all."

She smiled sweetly up at him. "And that's why he asked me to dance."

"Minx," he muttered. She smiled at him again.

"You were surprised to see me next to him," he said, changing the subject. She nodded as he twirled her through the crowd. "I couldn't believe it for a second," she confessed. "How did you convince Odin?"

He smiled ruefully. "It wasn't me at all, it was Thor. He told Father that it would be odd if he made no acknowledgement of me, and when that seemed to fail, he reminded him that Sumarsmal was a time of new beginnings…I do not know how it worked, only that it did."

"I'm glad," she said softly, fingers tightening in his for a moment.

Several hours later, Thor stood on the upper balcony, getting some fresh air, when he noticed Loki and Alana under the spreading canopies of the forest. They were dancing together, not like the swirling couples inside, but swaying gently to a tune that no one else could hear. Alana's head rested on Loki's chest, and his arms gently embraced her.

Thor let a small smile pass his lips. The tenderness in Loki's face was such as he had not seen for years and years, and Alana's expression of pure contentment filled him with peace. One night, he thought. That is all I can give them… but gods, if I had the power, I would give them more.

His thoughts were interrupted as Odin walked up beside him.

"He is truly in love with her."

Thor did not answer, believing the sight before them to be proof enough.

"Perhaps I have been too… harsh with him."

Thor laughed slightly. "Father, have you been drinking?"

Odin waved a hand gruffly. "No matter."

Loki twirled Alana around – she laughed and spun back closer to him, and he enveloped her in his arms again.

Odin sighed. "I am old, Thor – I know the Norns are counting my days."

Thor turned to him, shocked. "But Father – the Odinsleep – "

Odin smiled faintly. "That only goes so far. And I am weary. The battles that approach must be commanded by someone young and strong and able to hold his mead." He chuckled. "I am none of those, anymore. And I must confess… I long to see your mother once again."

Thor looked down and away. "Father… we still need you. I need you. Asgard is in more danger than it has been in a thousand years – you cannot give up."

Odin said softly, "When you are as old as I am, you will understand. Too long have I lived, even for an Aesir – too much have I seen; war, and death, and pain, and suffering. Valhalla knows how many times Frigga saved me from the dark." He sighed heavily. "But now I do not even have her to temper me. Now Asgard needs a new king."

There was a pregnant pause, and then Thor spoke. "My answer is still the same, Father. I will fight for Asgard, give my life for it if need be. But I cannot, and will not, rule it."

Odin huffed. "This is my legacy, then – my realms on the brink of war, and I too old to fight, and one son refuses to rule, and the other one a criminal."

"Loki has changed, Father," Thor said softly. "He is different now – and he is wiser than I in ways of war."

"He fought for Thanos, Thor, for our enemy. How can he be trusted now?"

They watched Alana and Loki dance, and Thor said, "Because he has something to fight for, now, something that he will not give up. And if it means that she is safe… I do not doubt that he would do anything."

Odin sighed. "Even so, Thor, what of it? He is Laufey's son, he is a Jotunn. Such a thing has never occurred – our enemy's son, sitting on our throne?"

"He is more your son than Laufey's, Father. And… Father, was this not the purpose for which you took him in the first place? You wished to use him to barter peace, to broker a common ground. Give him the throne and he will bring the Jotunns back into the fold. We need all the warriors we can get, and… in my mind, the prejudices that Asgard has long harbored must be dissolved if we are to win this war."

Odin was silent for a long time. "And you refuse the throne," he said, finally.

Thor nodded. "Yes."

"Then what else can I do? You have tied my hands."

He sighed deeply. "I never thought to see the day I would be convinced to crown Laufey's son in place of my own…"

"You are crowning your son, Father," Thor said softly. "Truly."

They watched as Alana and Loki danced some more under the trees, Loki pulling her in for a tender kiss.

Odin cleared his throat. "Come, Thor. Let us leave them to their dance."

Loki danced with Alana in the shade of the trees, and all was well.

Her head rested gently on his chest, his arms embraced her tenderly, and they swayed together in the cool air.

"We have an audience," Alana whispered to him, glancing up at the balcony for a brief second.

He twirled her around, catching a glimpse of Odin and Thor watching them from the palace.

"Let them watch," he whispered back to her and pulled her in close, kissing her softly, finally his again, finally his, and her lips were sweet and she kissed him too.

When he broke the kiss, she smiled, resting her forehead against his.

"I never thought we would get a night like this," she said quietly. "Not together, here, alone."

He spun her around – she laughed, music to his ears, and his heart was pounding fast –

She nestled closer to him. "Alana…" he said, then swallowed, his mouth dry.

She murmured "Yes?" into his chest, the vibrations traveling through to his heart –

"Marry me."

There was a sharp intake of breath and she raised her face upwards. "What?" she breathed.

"I don't want to hide anymore," he said, words tumbling out in rapid succession, "I want you, forever, and I don't care who knows, I don't care about the consequences – all I want is to be by your side every day until I die – "

She kissed him fiercely, her chest heaving, her hands pressed to his cheeks, and he could feel tears streaming down her face; she kissed him desperately again and again as he pulled her closer and closer.

"Of course I'll marry you," she whispered, finally. "Of course, Loki."

He touched his fingers to her tears – she laughed and wiped them away, (his eyes were wet too) and pressed her forehead against his.

He reached into the pocket of his surcoat and pulled out a small ring, dainty and gold.

"I know on Midgard you give rings?" he said softly, and she swiped at her eyes again, shaking her head slightly and smiling.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, and her hand was shaking slightly as he placed it on her finger – slightly too big, but a whisper and a flash of green and that was easily remedied.

"It was my mother's," he said, and she flew into his arms again, her arms thrown around his neck. He picked her up and whirled her around and kissed her again, feeling the warmth of her, the weight of her, her, her, in his arms forever now, forever and ever and ever.

She laughed and buried her head into his shoulder; they stood like that, for a while, embracing.

Finally she pulled away and the smile on her face made him happier than he had ever been in his life.

"We should go in," she murmured, but her hands were still around his neck, and she showed no signs of moving them.

"Odin's presenting the apple to you at twelve?"

She nodded and he rested his forehead against hers.

He laughed slightly. "I don't know how I'll be able to pretend I barely know you in there."

She murmured agreement. "I'm too happy for that," she said softly.

She kissed him once more, and he relished the feel of her, the taste of her – if he lived a hundred thousand years he was sure that her kisses would thrill him the same as the first.

She pulled away, finally, and said, "I love you, Loki."

He smiled and said, "I love you too."

It was twelve and Odin stood in front of the crowd, and banged Gungnir once on the floor, causing instant silence.

"On this day, Sumarsmal," he began, "we celebrate the beginning of the summer, of the rebirth of the realms, of new beginnings, and of new life. It is fitting, therefore, that tonight we honor one of the newest members of our vanguard. And yet she managed, in one night, to save the lives of thirty of our Einherjar."

Silence still reigned in the room.

Odin continued, "This is a feat that should not be lightly regarded. This is a feat worthy of praise, of reward! And so it is that I present the Lady Sigyn with a Golden Apple of Idunn."

There was applause from all around her, faces turned towards her, as she mounted the platform and curtseyed to Odin, and then to the crowd.

Odin opened his hand to reveal an orb that appeared to be made of solid gold – she cupped her hands and he placed it in them.

She knew what she was supposed to do now, but she was tense in the anticipation of pain –

She raised the orb to her lips and bit into it. Although it looked hard, it yielded easily, like a real apple would.

She swallowed – no pain as of yet – and the crowd applauded for her – she curtseyed again – was that a hint of pain in her stomach or just her imagination? – and she could sense Loki's worry still burning in the crowd, as her eyes reached for his…but there was something else there too, something just out of reach, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

There was a heartbeat in which she understood something was terribly, terribly wrong –

And then the platform exploded.