The Avenging of Loki Laufeyson

by YouLookLikeFOOD

"So… the shadows are coming to life, we're all gonna die, and the only way to save three separate worlds is for Loki and the Avengers to quit whining and work together for once. And of course, I'm the one who, somehow, has to make that work out. Yep, sounds like a Tuesday. When's my coffee break?" Sequel to 'The Avenging of Natalie Frost'. T for violence and language.

22. Of Kings And Convicts

Loki, a long time ago, once explained to me that not even the most powerful of magic could bring the dead back to life. The dead were dead forever.

But, at the same time as he had told me this, he had mentioned something else; an echo. An imprint that you leave on the universe through your time here. Your 'footprint', so to speak, on the fabric of the universe; created by your deeds and actions and words over an amount of time. Not a ghost, not a soul left on earth; but a memory. The universe's memory of you.

Only the most powerful of magic could access this echo; and only in a place specifically designed for such a purpose.

That place was the Chamber of Elliroth, where I now stood, staring at the echo of my dead best friend, April Blackthorn.

"S'matter, Natalie?" She asked, still grinning like a loon. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Not even funny," I managed to gasp out as I gaped at her. She snickered.

"It's funny as hell, actually," She said, kicking her legs back and forth. Tapping the bench next to her with her flat palm, she indicated that I sit next to her, and scooted over a bit so that I could do so. I didn't. I didn't even move. She looked at me with a single raised eyebrow.

"Come on, Natalie, you have time to be shocked later. I've only got about ten minutes; and there's something that I wanted to do before I left." Her eyes turned abruptly serious. "Loki said I could leave the Chamber for maybe a minute before I fade, so my time's kinda limited."

Of course, that only made me even more shocked. "You… You…" I swallowed painfully. "You know Loki?"

These echoes were not meant to have a memory of their death; such a thing was too brief to leave much of an imprint on the universe. So she shouldn't have remembered her murderer, nor her actual murder. Her eyes softened just slightly.

"Yeah," she answered quietly. "He's been… explaining things, for a few days now." She looked to the side. "It took him a while to figure everything out, to try and get me to stick around." She grinned again, more lopsided than before, her eyes shining in an oddly twisted way. "I've been fading in and out for a while now. But he… explained everything. About… you know, how I died."

I winced. "April…"

"He's awfully apologetic about it," She said, leaning back on her hands again. She wasn't meeting my eyes. "Kinda sweet, for a crazy person. And he's quite the looker. You could do worse."

I blinked. Blinked again.

"You could also do a hell of a lot better, but hey, you love who you love." She stared at the ceiling for another long moment, then sighed heavily, leaning her elbows on her thighs, hands clasped between her knees as her head hung, her eyes on the ground. "And your options got kinda limited when you stuck yourself in his brain."

I think I swallowed my tongue. But finally, finally, I managed to find my words. "What the crap, April? You just learned about magic and superheroes-not to mention came back from the fricking dead… and you want to discuss my love life?"

"That's why I'm here, innit?" She asked, looking up to me again, green eyes sparking. "Besides, I've had a little while to get over the whole 'death' thing." She snickered. "You wouldn't believe how fun this is, Natalie. It's like everything you say is some great and powerful wisdom, just because you were stupid enough to get yourself killed. I think I could tell people to 'be one with the cheese' and they'd take it as perfectly sage advice." Her sniggering grew louder. It said a lot about her that this wasn't the weirdest thing I'd ever heard her say.

I decided to ignore a majority of that and focused instead on one thing. "What do you mean, 'that's why you're here'?"

April gave me a steady look with those emerald eyes. I'd missed those eyes. I'd missed that face. I'd missed her impressive ability to not give a shit about anything or anyone, while still managing to be 'friendly'. "I mean," she said slowly, "That that's the reason Loki brought me back. Because he knew that you being in love with your best friend's murderer was going to be a conflict you carried for the rest of your life. And because he thought I deserved to say my piece about the whole thing." She shook her head out. "It's quite a conundrum you've got yourself in, Natalie. I didn't think even your luck could possibly be that bad."

I managed to laugh weakly about that, though I was still staring at her, waiting for her to disappear. Waiting to wake up. "Well, shit really went down in the last few years."

"So I heard." Her eyes flicked to my arm, to the scars there. Her eyes softened, her voice slightly quieter. "Sorry about that."

"Not your fault."

"No, but I wish I'd been there." She sighed deeply. "My friend goes through hell, and because I didn't wait a little longer to pull the trigger, I'm not there for her when she does."

"Hey… Hey, don't even talk like that," I said, stepping forwards. For the first time, there was a degree of firmness in my words. "You were a hero, April. You were… you were incredible."

She looked up at me again, smirking softly. "I shot myself in the head, Knick-Knack," She said. Before I could keep going, she waved her hand about. "Meh, maybe you're right. I mean, I am pretty incredible." She grinned again, toothily. I smiled weakly back.

She considered for a long moment, then sighed quietly. "I wish it wasn't him. Hell, I'll admit it, I don't like the idea of you… 'fraternizing with the enemy'." She did finger quotes. "The dude killed me for a stupid reason and now all of a sudden you're head over heels for him."

I winced. The words stung; though not like wounds. There were too many wounds for fresh ones. She was just rubbing salt into the ones that already existed. "April…" I said slowly, trying to explain myself. She held up a finger, cutting me off.

"Shut up, let the dead woman speak." She gave me a look. I clamped my mouth shut, locking my teeth together. She went on, "I don't like it. I don't like the fact that he killed me and now he's sleeping with my best friend."

That one stung even worse than the first. "We're not sleepi-"

"Whatever, Natalie, that can change." I flushed a brilliant, hot red as she continued. "Basically, I don't like the idea. But- But!- I understand it."

I stared at her. She sighed again, then leaned forwards a touch and met my eyes, holding my gaze perfectly. "The guy was damaged in the brain space. And you, being you, had to fix him. And the only reason you made this link permanent in the first place was so that you could do that; and, at the same time, so that you could keep him from ever killing again. So that you could save lives. That, quite frankly, is some pretty gutsy shit; and I'm proud of you for it."

The words slammed into me. Proud of me. April was proud of me. The person I'd looked up to for all this time and hoped that I wasn't disappointing was proud of me. My chest swelled.

She kept talking, not seeming to notice the smile that was threatening to make its way to my face. "'Cause seriously, I never would've done that. I would've let him rot." She shook her head again, sitting back onto her hands once more. "But now… now the guy's head over heels for you. I mean, he brought your best friend back from the dead just to make you feel better." She whistled. "Makes all the guys I dated look like crap. Mind you, most of the guys I dated were crap."

I managed a half-laugh. I looked down at my toes. "He is…" I swallowed, managing to finish with, "He is pretty great. If you can forget the past."

"So forget it. Let the guy be great. Live your life and love whoever the hell you want to love." She looked at me so intently that I was forced to meet her gaze again. "I mean, if you weren't mentally linked with the dude, I'd probably slap you in the face for this; but the point stands that you are, and that you know for a fact that he's sorry for… well, this." She gestured to herself with one hand. "But so help me, he'd better be really sorry. Like, on-his-hands-and-knees kinda sorry."

"He is," I said, a little too quickly. "Believe me, he is."

She nodded curtly. "Okay, then." She said flatly. "The April Blackthorn seal of approval is on this relationship. Badda Bing, Badda Boom, you're set."

I stared at her. She looked back evenly, her gaze almost… challenging me to question her.

"You're the craziest, weirdest, most perfect best friend a person could ever have," I said at last.

"And don't you forget it." She told me firmly.

"Seriously, I would hug you right now if I didn't think my arms would go right through."

"And I would hug you back, but I have another engagement." She stood at last, walking over to me. "Like I said, Loki wasn't sure how long he could hold this; and I've only got a few minutes if I want to leave the Chamber."

For a second, we just looked at each other. As though we were trying to remember, for now and forever, what the other looked like. And then, carefully, I wrapped my arms around her. It was a delicate, cautious embrace, so that my arms wouldn't go straight through her, and I could not feel her inside of it, but for a moment, that didn't matter. I saw her arms wrap around me as well.

"I miss you so much, April," I said quietly.

"Yeah, I miss you too, Knick Knack. But I've always been your best friend; and I always will be. Some stupid little thing like death ain't gonna change that."

I smiled, wishing that this hug was more permanent, that echoes didn't fade when accessed, that April had never died in the first place… "Screw that. You weren't my friend; you were my sister."

She grinned as she pulled back, going straight through my arms. She looked down at herself, and the smile grew even, impossibly, bigger as she stepped away, so that she was no longer standing in the middle of my arms. "Always." She promised. "Now, if you'll excuse me; I have some work to do."

She gave me a two-fingered salute. I saluted back as she closed her eyes and began to fade. And then I sat on the bench in the center, thinking over the conversation, taking a few moments, letting April do whatever she was doing. I knew Loki's attention would be focused on keeping that echo of her in the world for as long as he could, so I didn't disturb him until, a few minutes later, I was certain she was gone, once and for all.

As I did that, April arrived at her destination. She knew she didn't have long; that the longer she was out of the Chamber, the harder it would be for Loki to keep up her image… but he had agreed to do this. It had been her one condition.

She braced herself as she stepped into the room, but didn't bother with hesitating. There was no more time for hesitation.

The room was as she remembered it, if a bit messier. There was someone sleeping on the large bed, and though she had heard of this person's deteriorated state, the place, due to Kevin's interference, was actually quite… nice.

"Mom?" She whispered quietly, crouching down next to the bed. "Mommy?"

Anita Blackthorn stirred.

"Mom, wake up," April said, a little louder. Mrs. Blackthorn's eyes flickered open, and April grinned.

"Hey, mom," She whispered quietly.

The older woman blinked. But she did not seem overly surprised to see her daughter, no matter how long she had been dead. Perhaps she had seen her before, in hallucinations… or maybe she thought she was still dreaming. "April?" She asked, in a tiny voice.

April smiled at her, weakly. "Yeah, it's me." She reached forwards to touch her mother's cheek, then pulled back, remembering. "I don't have much time," She whispered. "But you've gotta listen to me, mom. You can't keep doing this to yourself. It wasn't Natalie's fault that I died, and…" She placed her hand on the corner of the bed, a compromise. "And it wasn't your fault, either. Didn't I tell you that?"

Mrs. Blackthron's eyes were filling with tears. It seemed like a normal thing, as though she was on the brink of them nigh constantly. "I… I miss you, sweetheart. I can't… I can't live without you anymore."

April rolled her eyes. "Now, I know that's bullshit." She smiled softly. "Come on, mom, life's short enough as it is." She met her mother's gaze evenly, steadily, trapping her mother's eyes there. "And it's not about you, mom. Take it from someone who's dead: Life isn't about you and what you can live with. It's about the people you leave behind, the lives you affect." She tilted her head to the side. "There are people that still need you, mom. Even if they aren't me."

Mrs. Blackthorn looked at her for a long time. And then she closed her eyes. Tears streamed onto her pillow. "I can't think of any."

April glanced to the door, where she heard her Uncle Kevin in the other room. "I can," She said quietly. As Anita's eyes opened again, April smiled swiftly. "I know about you and him, you know. And let me just say: you married the wrong brother."

She stood and, even knowing that neither of them would feel it, she leaned over to kiss her mother on the forehead. "I love you, mom. I always will. And that's not going to change if you let yourself live for a little longer."

She realized then that she was beginning to fade. She wasn't certain how she knew this, but she looked down at herself and, yes, it was true. She was becoming… transparent. Her mother was watching her go…

And, as the echo began to diminish, the door opened. Kevin Blackthorn, April's uncle, stepped inside… and saw a ghost. His eyes grew round, wide.

April grinned. Unable to help herself, as she vanished, she waved her hands about as spookily as she could manage. "Be one with the cheeeese…"

And then she was gone, leaving her mother and Uncle to stare at the space she'd left behind.

---

Back in Asgard, Loki's shoulders slumped. He felt drained, as he had expected, as he lost whatever semblance of an echo was left of April Blackthorn. Leaning against the wall for support, he took a long minute to catch his breath, his entire body aching.

He glanced to the Chamber door, waiting for me to say something in his mind. It was another few moments before I did; before my mind brushed against the walls that he'd put up. He allowed them to drop and closed his eyes, coaxing the Chamber door open once again.

I stepped through a few seconds later, looking up at him. He looked back, his eyes questioning. I knew now, as all secrecy vanished from his mind, that he had not known what April was going to say to me. That he had specifically asked not to know, told her to say what she truly believed. That was why he'd acted as though it might be a goodbye when I went into the Chamber; for if April had not been all right with this, then there was every possibility that I would leave him…

I stepped up towards him. The poor thing never worried enough for it to show on his features, but now… now he radiated his anxiety. He was almost… frightened.

I was in his face in two quick steps. His heart started to race. "Natalie-" He started.

"Shut up."

He winced, but I was already grabbing his collar in tight fists, pulling him down closer to me, and jamming my lips against his. I pulled back quickly. "You're a good man, understood? Not a good monster. A good man. And dammit, you're mine, and nothing that you do to remind me what you did or what you are is going to make me give you up." I lifted an eyebrow, keeping his collar in my hands so that he was forced to keep his face within a few inches of mine. "So freaking deal with it. You're stuck with me."

It seemed to take him a moment to process; but once he did, relief was plain in his eyes, if not on his face. He relaxed enough to wrap his arms around my waist, letting me keep a hold of his collar. "Then she…?"

"She was fine with it. Of course she was; she's April." I shook my head. "But that wouldn't have mattered. I mean, yeah, it would've hurt like hell if she didn't accept it, I would've been really depressed about it… But I can't give you up again. I can't, and I won't." I lifted an eyebrow. "And I know that, subconsciously, you're still trying to make me. You're still pushing the boundaries, trying to remind me what you are. But I know what you are, and I don't give a damn, because whatever you are, you're mine."

His eyes softened slightly. The fear was gone now, and there was even the slightest of wry smiles on his face. I held his gaze, almost sternly. "Besides," I added, "It's not like we don't both have the mother of all baggage, you know? I don't care how 'broken' or 'twisted' you are. We're both pretty damaged goods." I pulled his collar even closer, pressing my forehead against his so that our eyes were closer than ever. "And the only way we have any chance of fixing that is if we're together. So you owe it to yourself- owe it to me- to stick around, so that we can fix each other. Clear?"

"Perfectly," he answered smoothly, his eyes dancing again. There was almost an old, wicked spark in his eye.

"Good," I said firmly. "So no matter what- no more trying to push me away. No more secrets, no more surprises. And I know that April was-"

I was about to say that I'd known that April was different, that he truly had wished to allow my best friend- my sister- to have her say about this, about anything that she may have left unattended, but I was cut off. Loki's face was pretty close to mine; it didn't take him a whole lot of effort to breech the gap between us, silencing me by brushing his lips against mine; gently, at first, which made my mind turn into static… and then firmer, turning off the brain TV entirely.

It took me almost half a minute before I could pull my thoughts back together enough to remember that I should probably be angry at him for that. Dammit, Loki, I grumbled, though I made no attempt to break away. That was important.

Then do not stand so close, he replied, entirely unapologetic. My willpower is somewhat limited.

I might have laughed if I was broken away from him. As it was, I made a little noise in my throat that might have been a snicker and pulled his collar even closer. His arm was braced around my waist, and his other arm soon joined it. His skin was cold, as it always was, but the longer I stayed in his arms, the warmer he seemed to get; as was usually the case. He was so close to me that I could smell him, that his scent was everywhere; he smelled like snow. I hadn't even known that snow smelt like anything until that moment.

Finally, pushing myself away from him irritably- literally pushing against his chest in order to force myself to break away- I said, "Stop that! I was trying to have a rational conversation here!"

"Rational?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. One of his freezing hands detached from around my waist, running up my spine and sending shivers through me as it rose up to my shoulder and cupped against my neck. He tilted his head to the side briefly, his eyes slightly more narrow in disbelief as he smiled at me, roguishly. "How very boring."

The way his green eyes were dancing made my heart melt into a puddle of goo. But I stood my ground. As he leaned forwards again, I lifted one hand off of his collar so that I could put my finger against his lips. "You can't just kiss the mortal to distract her every time there's a sensitive subject." I warned him.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he answered against my finger. But there was still that mischievous twinkle in his eye. I looked at him for a long time, lips mashed together in a hard line, before sighing deeply and giving up. He was happy. He wouldn't admit it, but he was extremely happy-and relieved- about what April had said. Happy that I was here, happy that I was so intent on staying here. But Loki wasn't like a lot of people. He couldn't outright say that he was happy; he had to show that happiness with a little more of a… mischievous flare. His good moods tended to mean that nothing would get through to him. So I dropped the subject; it was pointless to push it right now. Let the guy be happy; he'd been miserable for so long, after all.

I dropped my finger from against his lips. "Ah, forget it," I sighed heavily. I snapped my fingers together in front of his green eyes. "You're not focused right now."

"As I said," he responded, moving in again, so that his face was an inch from mine. "Your close proximity is not entirely conducive to my focus."

I tried-and failed- to roll my eyes before his lips were on mine again.

After that, the day was short. Too short. Loki and I stayed beside each other at all times, mostly searching out the quieter areas of the palace; the little nooks and crannies where we could be alone. We even spent a while together in the library, knowing that it was possible that it would be the last time we could do so. Neither of us mentioned S.H.I.E.L.D.'s looming deadline, nor bothered to discuss what it would mean for Loki when he was no longer welcome on Earth. We simply enjoyed what freedom he now had; and what freedom we both had.

When we prepared for our journey back to Earth, it was Thor who informed us that one of the Royal Guard would arrive for Loki the next day. The Thunderer promised that he would be there, by his brother's side, and that it may only be temporary; if Loki's trial could be reconvened. Loki had given Thor a small, weak smile and crushed my fingers in his grasp. Even I winced at the thought of that darkened cell, with the shadows all around… even with Fraye dead, it was all too easy to imagine the darkness coming to life, carving more insane patterns into his skin…

The three of us went to Earth via the Tesseract; and then Thor returned back to Asgard. Loki and I were in the Tower again; despite Loki's… 'redecoration' of the place, this was where we would stay. I didn't want to put my parents into the middle of all of this anymore. And besides, the other Avengers were also in the Tower. (Stark had yet again demanded to know what Loki's grudge against his Tower was. Loki had shrugged without replying).

My old room had been reduced to rubble, so we found a new one, relatively untouched by Loki's rule over this place. There were a few sections of the Tower that had been left as they were. We found one that was relatively the same and stayed there until it grew late, sitting up and talking. I don't even remember what we talked about; only that neither of us seemed to really want to stop.

Finally, we went to bed. I flared the glow and left it on, as I always did; neither of us liked to sleep in the dark. Loki turned off all of the normal lights before lying down next to me. He was no longer as distant as he used to be, no longer went to the farthest end of the bed so that he could pretend that we would not be lying down directly next to each other when the morning came. Now, he had no qualms with putting his arm around my waist, curling up close to me. He had changed so much; but I knew that, at some point, some of his shock and joy at having me back would wear off, and some of his old coldness would settle back in. Particularly when he was around others: already, he was less openly affectionate to me whenever the Avengers were around. But that was all right. That was just him. And I wouldn't love him if he wasn't Loki.

The two of us drifted to sleep together, and shared dreams of a world without prison bars, a world without shadow.

---

It wasn't a dream that woke me, so much as a feeling. The prickling unease that came from being watched, combined with the stomach-wrenching fear of hiding in the dark and waiting to be found by friend or foe. I slid my arm off of Loki's and, though he stirred briefly, he did not wake.

I couldn't explain what I felt. Couldn't explain the pure, mortal terror that was flooding me as I slipped out of the room and tiptoed down the hallway. Quickly but silently, I traveled throughout the Tower, trying to quell the fear, the pain, the empty numbness in the center of my heart that just refused to go away. As though there was still a piece of me missing, despite Loki's reappearance in my head. It was painful in the same anesthetized way; and it terrified me.

Floor by floor I went, categorizing where the Avengers were, making note of each and every one of them, making sure I knew where they all were. Everyone was asleep, except for Bruce, who I avoided, making sure he did not see me. I didn't know why it was so important that I knew where they were, that I knew the layout of this building, that I knew where the exits and entrances were, where the best hiding places were…

I closed my eyes; but when I did so, all I saw was darkness. I opened my eyes again, very quickly, unwilling to stare into that abyss…

That abyss that looked like her eyes…

My heart kicked it up a notch, and abruptly, I was running. I didn't know where I was running to, nor what I was running from, but I knew I had to do it, knew I had to flee from danger and into safety. My bones felt splintered and cracked from fear, but I pushed myself onwards. I heard sickening laughter in my ear, but it was just in my head, but it made me hurt, it made everywhere hurt.

I was running still, and my hands clawed over my ears, and I passed by a mirror and saw what I'd become, saw this thin, weakling scrap of an Avenger, a tortured killer. I saw her scared brown eyes and her weak, thin arms; but she was fast. That was one advantage she most certainly had, because she sped past her reflection like a bat outta hell.

When or why I stopped… I didn't know. But I was seeing blood in the corners of my vision when, suddenly, I was sitting down on the ground, my spine against the wall and my knees raised to my chin, my arms wrapped around my legs. The world was a very strange place, not cold or warm, not good or bad, not safe or dangerous, but entirely, utterly, heart-shatteringly empty. And I was staring at… nothing.

I stayed that way. Staring into the distance. My heart hurt but the rest of me felt empty and tired, and I simply did not have the strength to move any longer. Even the rising of the sun did nothing, and when I heard my fellow Avengers calling to me, searching for me, I had no voice. I had no strength to speak. I was empty and weak, a little shell, and all I could do was look at the red-splattered, shadow-forged scars on my arm. And the strangest thing about those scars was that they were the only things that appeared undamaged. The rest of me was the scar tissue, the damaged skin, and that word in my arm was healthy and alive and vibrant, filled with color and life whilst the rest of me was pale and pallid and sickly…

"JARVIS said she was back here," I heard a voice calling out, but I did not bother to identify whose it was. I was barely bothering to breathe at that point. The door in front of me opened, and in came a stream of relieved people; faces that I was piecing together, someone's chin and nose and hair, but I couldn't remember which one belonged to whom and I didn't much care anyway…

"Natalie?" A quiet voice asked, gentle and soothing and kind. There was a hand on my forehead, then my cheek. "Frost?" the voice was slightly more urgent now, slightly more worried.

"How long has she been in here?" Another voice asked of the first, as others joined in. I couldn't keep track.

"What's wrong?"

"Is she all right?"

"What happened?"

"Give her some space."

The first voice answered the second's question. "I don't know," he said quietly.

"How is that possible?" The second voice asked. "You two know everything about each other, don't you?"

The person in front of me shook his head. I vaguely identified him, because he was me, he was my other half, my extra self, and I could see his green eyes shining in worry as they studied my own glossed-over brown ones. "She doesn't know," he said quietly.

"Everyone, just back up!" Another person said firmly, pushing the owner of the second voice aside. "Stark, you too."

This person crouched down in front of me. I tried to bring my eyes to them, but I couldn't. I was so… tired. I didn't care enough, I didn't have the strength enough, even as I heard the worry in their tones… no matter how much I wanted to keep that worry away, it was nothing compared to the dead numbness that had cloaked me in a mist of Novocain.

"Loki," this person said, in an almost gentle voice. "It's okay. She's fine."

"Quite frankly," Another person said, stepping up. "I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner."

"She's in shock, Loki." I tried to distinguish the voices, tried to determine who was who… I didn't care enough. But I knew this neutral tone; it was calm and reassuring, but somehow even and flat at the same time. Someone who understood what had happened. Someone who understood what we'd been through. "She just needs some time to process things."

The word 'process' managed to get through, and I had a moment in which I wondered how I was supposed to process anything with my mind turned off in the way it was. But then I didn't care again.

"It happens sometimes," Another flat, neutral voice. This one was slightly edged. I had a flash of something in my brain-a memory of an archer- that told me who it was. The Archer. The Hawk. "She's been through hell and now she's back and that doesn't quite… fit in her perception of the universe. Her mind is… shutting down for repairs."

"But I never…" My other voice said quietly.

"Well, you had other ways to cope," The other voice, not the Hawk, answered him in a soft tone. It was a spider's voice, the voice of the Black Widow… a Hawk and a Spider. "Not necessarily healthy ways, but they were there nonetheless. Natalie, on the other hand, just needs some time alone, and, well, with you in her mind, she doesn't have it."

"So this is the closest she's going to get," the Archer added. "Let her have it. Leave her alone for a while."

There was pain in my other pair of eyes, pain in those green, jade pools. Something inside of me wanted to help that, to fix it, and I tried to reach forwards… but my bones felt too heavy. It was too much effort. It wasn't as though I couldn't move… I just didn't want to. I couldn't force myself to want to. Not enough.

My other half looked towards the Hawk and the Spider, the Archer and the Widow. "Can she be moved?" he asked, and his voice was a little colder now, formed with a little more ice and forced neutrality.

"I wouldn't recommend it," the Hawk answered warily. "She's probably a little… overly sensitive right now."

The Widow's hand fell carefully onto my other half's shoulder… I felt it there and whimpered, whining sharply and backing away quickly. I wasn't sure why, but fear sparked through me, brilliant, bright, vivid. It was alive. Fear was a living creature and it lived inside of me, lived and bred, shadow creatures that infested my blood and made me tremble…

The Widow abruptly pulled her hand back, glancing between my other half and I. Curling up tighter into myself, I cupped my hands over my ears, closing my eyes… but soon enough, I was too tired for even that, and my eyes opened again, staring at nothing. My hands fell into my lap again. They were all gone by that point, leaving me alone… but my other half was lingering in the doorway. Watching me.

His voice was little more than a whisper, but there were a thousand cracks inside of it, broken and strained. "I am… truly sorry. I didn't mean to…" he sighed deeply, looking away, closing his eyes. I stared at him, blankly. I couldn't bring myself to stand. To tell him that it was all right. That it didn't matter. That it wasn't his fault.

Because right now… it did matter.

It meant everything.

His eyes closed even tighter, his hand gripping the door so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and the wood began to creak. "I never should have hurt you."

There was regret in his words, regret as such that neither of us had ever felt before. But no matter how much I screamed at myself to help him… I couldn't stand. I couldn't walk over to him. I couldn't laugh it off and smack him in the arm and tell him that it wasn't his fault, tell him to stop blaming himself. Because he was right; there was blame on him. And no matter how hard we tried to banish it, that blame would be there forever.

How could I tell him that I didn't blame him, if it was a lie?

He did this to you, Natalie, her voice was in my head. For the first time since her death, it was louder than his. He left you there. With me. All for the sake of a pointless dream, a crown that he loved more than he could ever love you…

Loki closed the door behind him, and I stared ahead into nothing.

---

"She is a mortal!" the councilman slammed his enormous blue palms onto the table, making the entire room tremble. "A human! She is not worthy of any position among the Jotun court!"

Sigil looked at the Giant with a mixture of amusement and disgust. It never ceased to amaze him, the way he turned to such violence and volume of voice when his bigoted opinion no longer had anything even resembling facts to support it. This particular councilman, however, was one of the very few still opposing the twin mages' view. Indeed, he was one of the very few living giants on the planet who still opposed this view.

Rubbing his temple with two fingers, trying to clear away the headache that this giant was giving him, Sigil said, "She is a Shadowslayer." Though he tried to keep his tone civil, there was a bite of acid in his words, a sting of terrible venom hiding beneath a jeweled guise of cordiality. "His fellow Shadowslayer, as it happens. Mortal or not, Natalie Frost has proven herself as worthy as any Giant." His red eyes were as hard as the rubies they so embodied as he added, "And if he were to return, then it would not be your place to judge who presides in his courts."

"Worthy?" Another councilman chimed in. "She is far more than worthy. Natalie Frost is a legend in her own right! Ballads will be written of that day! History shall remember her; and shall remember how we honored our heroes!" he looked around at the others with a hard stare. "Do we cast those heroes aside? Do we dishonor that legend because she is human? After she saved our world, our people; a world with no connection to her own? Indeed, a world once at war with her own?"

There was a beat of silence following these words. And then, a slightly softer voice from a Giantess, "And we are entirely certain that he will not leave her behind?"

Sigil did not have the patience to answer this question for the thousandth time; and so it was his sister who replied, "They are bound together in mind and magic; and they are bound as Shadowslayers. But above all, they are lovers." She shrugged very mildly. Avalon did not share her twin's impatience. In fact, she frequently enjoyed this aspect of politics: the endless bickering, when everyone knew precisely where it would end. "He will not leave her on Earth, when he could give her power, a position of authority… a world, even, perhaps."

Another momentary silence, shorter than the last. And then, the councilman who had been most vocal in his protests spoke again. Sigil was getting rather exhausted with this particular Giant. "As you say, they are lovers," he pointed out in a grave tone. "If they become more than this, if his interest expands past a mere passing interest in humans-"

There was a low, guttural growl from a few; Sigil included. He saw hands tighten in fists, ice trickle down fingertips. How could any Giant be so blind? "As it has already been said," he cut in before the Giant could continue, "They are bound by magic. It is more than mere flight of fancy. There is no one else. There could never be any else."

The other councilman's eyes grew ever more solemn. "All the more reason why we should reconsider," he said dangerously. "What would become of our world, should he take a mortal wife?"

"Considering who that mortal is," a voice spoke; a Giant at the farthest end of the room. All eyes whipped to him and narrowed. A servant. A man not meant to be inside of this court. A Giant with brilliant red eyes and dark blue skin, but a lie within his blood… Sigil lifted an eyebrow. He had not expected the boy to show such brazen disregard for his rightful place. He supposed he should have.

"And considering all that she has done for us," the giant went on. He was taller than Sigil, tall as a true giant, and he stood with the grace and air of a royal. "I, for one, would be honored."

"I'm certain you would, half-breed," the Councilman snarled. "Anything for pity upon your kind… how you survived long enough to reach your age…"

"How I survived is of no consequence to this meeting." The half-breed answered with an even gaze.

"And nor are you," Avalon told him coolly. Sigil glanced to his sister. It was certainly unfair of her to look down on a child who had no say in what he was given for his life, when she herself had no say in what she had been given. But his sister was hardly ever 'fair'. "Hold your tongue next time, slave, or someone less forgiving may cut it out."

The half-breed Giant watched her. Sigil shivered just slightly. He did not appreciate his sister speaking ill of this particular man; the look in his red eyes unsettled the mage. It was far too knowing, far too… aware. As someone who worked with the advantages of secrets, someone who was knowing and aware was not someone he tended to care for.

The servant bowed, low and deeply, to Avalon, and the rest of the council. But there was still a glint in his eye, a shrewd smile that threatened to show on his lips. "My sincerest apologies, my Lady, my Council."

He was hustled out of the room by an infuriated Giantess; the woman for whom he was indebted and bound to. His mistress, for he was, after all, a mere slave. She muttered apologies as she left. The room was quiet once again.

"It is a valid opinion, regardless of its source," a Councilman said at last. "I, too, would be honored to serve under the Lady Frost, no matter her position."

"And we are discussing matters of right and bloodline," Another Giantess, the one who had spoken earlier, voiced her words with the same soft-but-firm tone as before. "Regardless of stature or past deeds, he is the son of Laufey. He may not lay claim to what is rightfully his; but it is rightfully his nonetheless." She shook her head slowly. "If we are to think of the good of Jotunheim, then we cannot stand behind taking that right from him."

"He would have killed Jotunheim!" The more vocal Giant protested yet again. His voice was beginning to grate on Sigil's ears. "He would have destroyed our world for the good and glory of Asgard!"

"And we would have done the same," Avalon said airily. "Our worlds were at war. And, at the time, was he not an Asgardian?"

"Once and Asgardian, always an Asgardian," the Giant said firmly. "His loyalties will not fracture from what he believes is his world; and nor will Natalie Frost's!" He looked around at the rest of the Council, seated around the table. "He grew up beside their Prince! He views Thor as his brother! If our worlds were to battle again, could he truly meet him as a foe?"

"I think it more likely that, because they are 'brothers', they would find no reason to battle in the first place," Sigil pointed out in a placid tone, folding his fingers on the table before him. His sister gave him the swiftest of smirks.

"Enough," a gentle-but-echoing voice resounded throughout the council chambers. All eyes turned to the speaker: the newest Captain of the Guard, Steprin. His eyes were even and his spine straight, his gaze steady as he watched them all with a militaristic posture and glance. "All that can be said has been said. All words worth hearing have been heard. There will be no more swaying of opinions now." He met the gaze of each Jotun in turn. "Let us cast our votes; and let what is decided be decided."

There was silence throughout the chambers. And then Sigil, sighing deeply, called forth a spark of silver-white magic to his fingertips. Leaning his head against his other hand, looking precisely as he felt- excruciatingly bored- he manipulated the sliver of light just briefly before casting it with a light toss towards the center of the table, where a deep groove had been hollowed out in the ice. It floated down into the darkness, bearing his decision with it, and vanished moments later.

Barely a second after his vote had been cast, his sister joined; and moments later, the rest of the table were doing the same. All votes looked the same. All magic appeared the same. It was the simplest of magic, and any giant would have been capable of creating it; but there could be no tampering with any of these votes, and no knowing who had decided what.

"Well," Sigil said, in a slithering voice. "If our business here is done, then I shall take my leave." He stood, bowing just slightly to the other Giants before turning and walking from the room. His twin sister was beside him a few moments later, looking contemplative.

Sigil smiled at her. "Do not look so concerned, sister," he told her, rather cheerfully. "We all know what the outcome will be."

"Of course," She answered smoothly. "That is not in doubt."

There was a brief pause before Sigil asked, "Then what troubles you?"

She was silent for a long time, as though considering whether or not to answer, which concerned her brother somewhat. She never bothered to keep secrets from him. She thought it dull, tedious, pointless, to waste her effort on distrusting the one person she knew she could trust the most. Finally, however, she answered, "There is something very wrong with that half-breed."

Sigil glanced to her. Of everything she could discuss, she had to choose him? Granted, his nature had only made itself known recently, and he himself appeared to be a slight enigma… but they were discussing the politics of worlds, and she concerned herself over one servant? "He did not choose his lot in life," he reminded her carefully. "No more than we did."

She gave him a sharp look. Too sharp. Sigil halted, startled. "That is not what I meant," She answered acidly. She shuddered briefly. "We have fought beside kings and queens, shadows and Shadowslayers…" She shook her head. "But that one is a mystery to me. Tell me, brother, how does a slave learn to lock his mind off from a mental attack? Since when do servants stand like Kings, or speak when not spoken to?" She shook her head. "He holds an aura of power, brother, do not tell me that you have not seen it."

Sigil had indeed seen that which she spoke of. An air of magic greater than he'd ever known… he shook his head. "Even if he holds such power, as you said, he is a servant. He will never learn to wield it."

Avalon was silent again. And then, in a tiny voice, she answered, "We did."

---

It took a very long time for me to pull myself together again, and even so, it was an effort to shuffle my way through the Tower halls to find Loki again. Each footstep was leaden, heavy, and I made very frequent stops so that I could simply stare at the walls. But, eventually, I made my way over to my other half. He was in one of the old living rooms- which had only a few scorch marks as memories of his reign here- and reading a book. As I came inside, he looked up to me and set it down immediately, studying me, taking in everything. I didn't bother to say anything; I just sat down next to him and curled up in a ball on the cushion, putting my head on his chest.

For a while, we were quiet as I looked up at him, as he began to run his hand across my cheek. There was an emptiness in his eyes, a sadness that had been gone for a very long time; but no more. Tucking my hair, strand by strand, behind my ear, he inquired, "Feeling better?"

I was surprised by the ice, the acid in his tone. It was hard-edged, almost a mockery. But he was angry; not at me, at himself. He was angry that he let himself think that we could forget, that he let himself think, for even a second, that this would be in any way easy. I closed my eyes, curling closer to him, bringing my hand up from his chest and to his neck instead. "Yeah," I answered honestly, as though there had been no mockery whatsoever in his tone. "I'm just… glad you're here."

It was the wrong thing to say. "I'm not," he whispered quietly. "I wish I'd never been involved in your life, Frost."

I scowled, opening my eyes so that I could smack him in the side of the head. "Don't be an idiot, idiot. And don't start that again. The fact stands that you are involved, and there's nothing you can do to change it. And even if you could, I wouldn't want you to."

He was still frowning, his eyes still distant. My scowl deepened, and I sat up, outright glaring now.

"You know what?" I demanded. "You keep talking about how much you 'owe' me, because of what you did, because of all this crap… But let me tell you what you really owe me, Loki, because it's the only thing that I'm ever going to ask of you."

He looked to me, a shade more curious now. I jabbed him in the chest with my index finger.

"Forgive yourself," I ordered. "Or do whatever the hell you have to in order to do so. Because I'm trying to forgive you for all of this, and you're making it a hell of a lot harder by not bothering to do the same for yourself." I met his eyes. "You wanna repay that debt? That's what you've gotta do. And I'll accept nothing else."

He gave me a weak, weary, watery smile. Reaching forwards, he brushed my hair back again and cupped his hand against my cheek, running his thumb along my cheekbone. "It is never simple with you, is it?" he asked quietly.

"You want simple, don't fall in love with a shrink."

He chuckled very softly, his face softening again. There was still that old pain in his eyes… but he was quelling it. Because I had asked him to. Because he owed it to me to do so. I placed my head back on his chest, closing my eyes again.

"Look," I said after a moment, not opening my eyes. "We don't have much time until…" I swallowed. The Royal Guard had not come to retrieve Loki yet, but we knew it would be soon. I didn't finish the statement; I didn't need to. Instead, I went on, "And I just don't want our last few hours of freedom to be wasted on pointless guilt and pain."

Loki looked down at me, making careful note of how I had phrased that: how I had dubbed it 'our' freedom, as opposed to just his. Well, I'd be spending as much of my time as I could in there with him, so it was pretty much the same thing, even if mine was a self-inflicted incarceration.

"Then how instead should we waste them?" he asked.

My eyes flicked open. I smiled up at him, at that face and those features which I had memorized after all this time.

"However we can," I answered, closing my eyes again.

And that was precisely what we did. Loki and I spent our time together by doing whatever next occurred to us; reading together, talking, sitting in silence… I didn't comment when Loki's Jotun form shimmered through his Asgardian one, nor did I really notice myself; in fact, it was almost an hour after it had happened that Loki himself noticed it through my mind, as I truly didn't care and was so cavalier about it… But when he'd attempted to hide it again, I'd shot him a look and hadn't let him.

"We have a few hours," I told him archly. "Can we spend it without lies, please?"

He had, eventually, conceded; if only because I treated him exactly the same either way. I never flinched at the sight, or seemed startled or confused by it. Jotun, Asgardian, whatever, Loki was Loki. And it was high time he learned that.

Loki was flipping through one of my sketchbooks for the bazillionth time (one of those that he'd saved from the fire that he'd set to my house), commenting on one of my crappy sketches of Jekyll and snickering at the way my face turned red, when Thor entered the room. His eyes were guarded but innocent as he looked at us, and though he seemed mildly startled by Loki's Jotun form, he made no comment on it. Loki stood, his skin lightening again, back to his false form, back to his guise of an Asgardian. I stood next to him, watching Thor as he gazed back at us. We didn't have to ask. We knew, from the look in the Thunderer's electric blue eyes, that it was time.

Thor sighed deeply and gestured for us to follow, sweeping out of the room. We obeyed in silence, following him into the next room.

The other Avengers were gathered and- I was surprised to see- suited up. Even Tony was in full Iron Man mode. I guessed that it was a formality that S.H.I.E.L.D. had asked them to address, because none of them looked overly happy with it, and despite their hold on their respective weaponry, none of it was aimed at Loki.

Loki's heart skipped once as he gazed at the Asgardian sentry evenly. The sentry looked back, his face equally neutral. There was a pair of shackles in his hands; typical Asgardian metal cuffs… but there was something else, too, something I couldn't quite identify…

Loki squeezed my hand gently, then slipped his out of it. An old Loki emerged, an old face of his, as he smiled at his soon-to-be captor, his eyes alight with a dark and dangerous power, when he was, in fact, powerless… He stood with the inherent grace and dignity of a royal, stood as though he was, indeed, still king… and his smirk was nigh defiant as he stepped forwards. No one commented on it. Not even me. Because, right now… he needed that hard, icy shell. Because if he felt this too much, he might have just lost it. Let the guy have his dignity.

This was the reason that I let him simply slip out of my fingertips, that I didn't extend this goodbye, that I didn't hold to him tightly until he was forcibly ripped out of my arms. Why I didn't kiss him goodbye. Because everyone was watching. And he had to remain a king, if only a king of convicts. But at least he knew who he was now; and being a king of convicts meant more than being a convict among kings…

I pushed the thoughts away from my mind as Loki extended his hands, holding his wrists together, and still smiling in that twisted, dangerous, I'm-still-in-control way of his. And, in a way, he was still in control. Because if this wasn't his own choice, then he could have fled from this long ago, left this life forever…

It's only temporary, I told him, trying to reassure us both. The Trial will be reconvened. We saved three worlds. This won't last long.

Of course, Frost, Loki answered, though even in his mind, the words were strained. The sentry locked the cuffs around his wrists in silence. The entire room was silent as a grave. The only sound in my ears was that of my own heartbeat, and that of my own trembling, which, I realized abruptly, was steadily getting worse. I wasn't trembling from fear, though, or pain. It was anger that was making me shake, making me quiver. Magma was pouring down my spine, spreading lava through my blood and nerves and bones. This wasn't right. It wasn't fair. Loki had made up for his crimes. He had saved nine worlds. He was a hero. And they were treating him like a common criminal?

And what about me? A more selfish side of myself inquired. Am I not a 'hero', too? Didn't I save their worlds, too? And in return, they lock away an entire half of myself in a dark, cold dungeon beneath Asgard, throw me inside and leave me to be forgotten?

This anger only surged with every beat of my heart, and though Loki silently tried to reassure me, to keep me calm, I knew that he was secretly pleased for it. It had been a very long time since someone had bothered to feel such intense indignation for him. Even if part of me was just feeling it for myself.

The sentry had finished the magical bindings on Loki's wrists-he winced as he felt his magic draining down into the cuffs, the shackles stealing his strength, his will, his power, making him into a lesser being, a more hollow creature… but he said absolutely nothing, still smiling dangerously, his eyes still gleaming, frosted over. The sentry adjusted the other object in his arms, opening a case and removing one more binding…

My eyes hardened as they narrowed on the metal object. "No."

Almost everyone jumped at the sound of my voice, so jarring in the tense silence that had cloaked everyone. All eyes but Loki's went to me, including the sentry, who seemed more startled than anyone. My hands clenched in tight fists at my sides, my features determined and resolute. The word had been firm and unyielding, an absolute and abject refusal.

The sentry adjusted the metal gag in his hand, and opened his mouth to speak; but Loki got there first. "It's standard procedure, Frost," the Trickster told me in a quiet tone. As he uttered the last letter of my name, I was already speaking again.

"I said no." My eyes had not left the gag, but now they turned to Loki, to the sentry. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Steve and Banner flinching at the terrible tone in my voice. I had not shouted, or raised the volume of my words in any way, but there could be no denying their sincerity. I had refused. And woe be to anyone who stood against that.

The sentry glanced to Loki, then to Thor. For the first time, he appeared mildly nervous. "Your majesty…?" he prodded of the Thunderer.

Thor looked to Loki, and Loki to Thor. The Trickster half-nodded, a small but determined gesture. He hated that disgusting gag as much as I did; but he was going to see this through to the end. He had said that he would and, for once, Loki was keeping to his word.

Thor swallowed, then reached for the gag in the sentry's hand. "Perhaps it would be better if I…"

Loki winced, barely visibly, but Thor caught it. "Perhaps not," he amended swiftly, stepping back. He glanced back to the sentry and nodded. "Proceed."

A majority of the other Avengers had turned away by this point. Only the Hawk and I were both watching, our eyes intent on the sentry.

It was as though I entirely lost control. Without even realizing what I was doing, without even caring after it had been done, I took a few fast, snapping strides towards the sentry. Without pause or hesitation, without even the slightest modicum of doubt, I snatched the metal gag out of his hand and stalked towards the other side of the room. Tesseract-blue exploded behind my eyes as my force field burst into life around me, falling into its natural spherical shape. I slammed my palm against the wall, the gag still in my hand, so that the metal crashed against the wall, the force field smashing it into the concrete. It crumpled surprisingly easily, the metal folding in on itself, bits and pieces raining down off it and clinking against the ground. I pulled my hand away, letting the remaining ruins of the gag clatter to the floor.

All eyes were once again on me as I turned around, letting the force field die around me, but realizing only now that my skin was glowing. I left that on, let my skin shine in golden as I glowered at everyone around me. Even Loki appeared startled by the pure hatred on my face: no one was used to me doing something so blatantly hostile; particularly when Asgardian politics were concerned.

But I wasn't little helpless human Natalie Frost anymore. And my four months with Fraye had greatly lowered my tolerance for bullshit.

"Anyone have a problem with it?" I demanded, folding my arms. When no one responded, I let my arms hang loose at my sides again and walked forwards, back to my original position in the room. Everyone watched me, warily. Even Loki seemed to be trying to puzzle me out.

The sound of a repulsor blast made everyone in the room-including me- jump a little. All eyes turned to Tony, who was cursing, holding his glove. The gag was now splintered in a few hundred more pieces, and decorated with a lovely scorch mark. "Sorry, sorry!" Tony apologized quickly. With a perfectly straight face, he turned to the sentry. "Repulsors have been out of sync since Fraye, I'll fix that…" he glanced up to the ceiling. "JARVIS, recalibrate the suit for me, would you?"

Natasha was smothering the tiniest of smiles. Clint wasn't even bothering to smother his. Steve looked between me and Tony, appearing torn between wishing to admonish or praise us. Thor managed to keep his face stoic, for the most part. Banner was looking at Tony, a sly glint in his eye suggesting that he knew full well that 'recalibrating the suit' was not an entirely viable command. And Loki… Loki's face was downright unfathomable.

"Of course, sir," JARVIS said… and a moment later, Tony's repulsor hand whipped back to the gag and fired again. The sentry had gone pale, and now jumped back at the explosive noise that everyone else in this room was now all too used to.

"JARVIS!" Tony cried, indignant. But his eyes were gleaming with a little too much (almost fatherly) pride in the AI he'd created.

"My apologies, sir. Recalibration is now complete." JARVIS answered smoothly, the machine's voice betraying absolutely nothing.

Natasha eyed the gag-now little more than a few twisted, burnt pieces of metal- and turned to the sentry. "I think it's rather pointless to try and salvage it now," she told him. "Shall we continue?"

The sentry swallowed. He glanced around at us, and I think, for the first time, he realized the people that he stood among. The power that he was placed in the center of. He nodded, just a little too quickly.

When we all returned to Asgard- the sentry, myself, and my fellow Avengers- the sentry led Loki back to his prison, the Avengers on either side. He looked very nervous still, but he held his head up high and hid it rather well. I almost pitied him. It wasn't his fault he'd been given this assignment. But at the moment, walking beside Loki, I didn't care so much.

There were very few people who watched Loki's walk down the hallways, in chains, back to the place where he had spent so long cowering in the dark… but those that did had steady, unreadable looks on their faces. There was only one Jotun among the Asgardians, but as we passed I saw his hands clench in tight fists, his red eyes shining malignantly.

I stayed with Loki until I was ordered away; and that only occurred when Odin came to the prison to seal it. I kissed Loki's cheek just briefly before I stepped back, allowing Loki to be led back into the darkness… He gave me a look before he went, a look strangely similar to one he might have given me in the old days, as though it was only natural that the mortal may show affection, but he would never show any back…. I ignored this. He needed it. He needed this appearance of 'strength', even if we both knew that it was a lie. Old habits, after all, die hard.

I met Odin's gaze as the prison doors closed, as, inside, the sentry removed Loki's shackles and Odin called forth the natural magic inside of this place, again suppressing Loki's abilities, his magical strength… it made us both feel a trace nauseous as his magic was sapped away from him. He was no longer used to being without it. Odin looked back at my eyes- which were hard set and defiant- with an indecipherable expression, his eye empty of every emotion but one: a strange sort of knowing. As though he knew something that I did not. He frequently did.

I gave the king a stiff half-bow as the Avengers dispersed, seeming to sense that I wished to speak to him alone. The other sentries, also, went back to their duties; save the two who now stood before Loki's door. I walked up to Odin. "The Trial?" I inquired. It was not hostile, but it was blunt.

He looked back at me evenly. "Will be reconvened within two weeks."

Two weeks! I bit my lip to keep from groaning aloud. I couldn't survive without him for one night; how in the hell was I supposed to last two weeks? But I kept my face steady as I asked, in a slightly kinder tone (after all, he was Loki's father. He would not wish to see his son in that hole any more than I would), "And… visitors? When will I be able to see him again?"

Odin didn't answer for a long moment; so long that I found myself becoming defensive. I stiffened just slightly. "That was our arrangement, after all; even prior to Fraye's attacks, I was here every week, acting as his-"

"I understand, Lady Frost," Odin said, cutting me off; his voice was soft, but it held enough authority inside of his words to get me to shut up. At least for now. "You will be allowed to return tomorrow."

Tomorrow. Crap. I bit my lip again, harder this time, as though trying to make it bleed. But I nodded slowly, tightly, and turned away.

His voice called me back before I got two steps. "Lady Frost?"

I turned back to him. His gaze was solemn, but there was something inside of it, some hidden knowledge, some cloaked smile… But his face seemed flat and expressionless as he said, "His is a unique situation. He has done what he can to redeem himself. And none of our worlds is blind to that; nor to who he is." His one eye met mine steadily, and I had the strangest feeling that 'who he is' meant something far more than I was already reading into it. A shiver ran its course throughout my system, and I met his gaze in turn. It was strange, that I was no longer intimidated by this man. By anyone, for that matter; mortal or immortal. But there was still something in his words that gave me chills.

"You would both do well to remember that," Odin concluded, before turning away, dismissing me. I watched him go silently, watched his every footstep until he turned a corner and vanished from my sight.

I turned back to the prison doors- those ornate golden doors that matched the ornate gold of the entire palace- and sighed heavily. We'll get you out of there, I promised the man on the other side of those doors, standing in the light beyond, a light amidst a sea of darkness that separated us. It might take a while, but… we'll get you out.

A stab of his melancholy sliced through my heart. A 'while', Miss Frost? Loki asked, his voice light and cold. My fate is in the hands of those who are immortal. A 'while', to them, may be any length of time. He looked distantly into the dark, sighing quietly. Time that you do not have.

His words stirred images in the back of my mind: a ticking clock, a countdown, the seconds ticking away until the end of a life… I swallowed tightly. I'm mortal, not a mayfly. And I'm not exactly on my deathbed. I'm only twenty-one.

Twenty-two.

What?

You are twenty-two, Frost. Your birthday was last month.

I swallowed again, even more tightly this time. My tongue was so dry that it felt like sandpaper, my throat closed to the width of a pencil. Right. Last month. Missing the change of a season. Missing my birthday.

No. Not 'missing' it. I'd had my birthday; I'd just spent it strapped to a chair and covered in my own blood as my other half playacted at being a king and we both playacted at being alive… I shuddered violently, but nonetheless, I tried to force my mental tone into bright cheeriness.

Well, hey, you remembered. That's something.

Even for you, that is tasteless.

Well what the hell do you want me to say? It's just a day. And okay, I'm twenty-two, so what? One more year to my age doesn't mean that I'm going to die tomorrow. When he didn't respond, I sighed through my nose. Besides. If you really think we don't have time to waste, then we don't have any time to waste on worrying about it, either.

He was quiet for a long moment. And then, even more distantly, he said, Perhaps.

I scowled, but didn't bother to correct him. I was right and we both knew it. We were quiet for a moment, and then I started walking, back to where I knew the Avengers were waiting to take me back home.

Don't worry about it. About any of it, I said as I walked. We'll get you out. And everything will be okay. There was another beat of silence before I added, Didn't you hear what Odin said? He's not a fool. He knows what you've done. He won't let you stay in there forever.

Loki tried to force a smile onto his face. Of course, Frost, he said, though he did not entirely believe it himself. Worry crept into the back of my mind, but I forced it aside. It did neither of us any good.

A few moments later, I re-joined the Avengers; and we headed back to Earth, leaving Loki behind.

---

Twenty-two.

The number kept ringing in my head. Over and over it repeated, an endless cycle, a repeating loop. I counted up to it with each strike against the punching bag in front of me. One, two, three four… my knuckles hit the leather and sent shocks up my arm, but it felt good, it felt right, because I was fighting, I was fighting the number, fighting age, fighting reason and fighting Fraye…

Five, six, seven, eight. I attacked the thing with all of the ferocity I could muster, all of the anger I could pack behind each blow. I was strong enough to slay the shadows themselves. I was strong enough to bear these scars in my skin.

But I wasn't strong enough to fight this damn number.

Nine, ten, eleven, twelve.

I wasn't strong enough to protect the man I loved, to keep him out of jail.

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen.

I wasn't strong enough to keep her eyes out of my head, even when she was buried in the very ashes of her home world. I wasn't strong enough to stop picturing that boy, her ghost, to stop wondering what had become of him and what she had done to him to cause him to haunt her so…

Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty.

Counting my blows against the punching bag, counting my strikes, a countdown on a clock, a timer going backwards, ticking away the seconds of my life…

Twenty-one.

I spent my birthday in that chair. I spent my birthday with her laughter in my ears. With her shadows beneath my skin.

Twenty-two.

I am twenty-two years old.

I struck the punching bag again, starting the count once more. One, two, three, four…

My stomach was twisting. Sweat had soaked and stained my shirt. I felt ill. I'd been pushing myself against this stupid punching bag for hours, but I couldn't make myself stop, no matter how exhausted I was becoming, no matter how weak my limbs felt. Because I had to keep moving. I had to keep fighting.

Because that damn number was everywhere.

"What did that poor punching bag ever do to you, Nat?"

I whirled on the voice. I didn't think: I reacted. My fist was out before I could stop it, but it was blocked. My other hand rose up and drove a palm heel towards the speaker's nose. This, too, was blocked, and suddenly I was in the lethal dance of a war, a battle, stepping in and out with fancy footwork and twirling arms, until my fingers were mere inches from the man's throat…

Tony lifted his eyebrows at me, one hand grasping my wrist before I managed to crush his Adam's apple. "I'm sensing some tension here."

I blinked. Blinked again. And then I released his hand, stepping back. "Crap… Sorry, Stark." I paused. "No, you know what, I'm not sorry." I turned back to the punching bag, readjusting it before slamming my fist into it again. "Why didn't you tell me I missed my own birthday?"

"You have a birthday?" It wasn't the first time he'd asked that question, but right now, it wasn't really funny anymore. I shot him a sour look.

"Don't give me that, I know it's in JARVIS' database." I slammed my fist into the leather again. It sent shockwaves up through my bones. How did something so jarring, so violent, not shatter me into a million pieces? Indeed, why was it the only thing holding me together, bandaging me in place? "I turned twenty-two with a psycho-bitch cutting me apart and half of my mind ripped out of my skull." One more slam into the punching bag. "And I didn't even know about it until a month later." I sighed, stepping back so that I could tighten my ponytail, adjusting it so that the band that held it in place was no longer slipping out of my hair. "How friggin' messed up is my life, if that's not even… I mean, if that's actually possible?"

"Nat, you live with superheroes, you save planets in your spare time, you mind-melded with a smurf… and you think that's the weird part?"

I scowled, slamming my knee against the punching bag, sending more violent tremors throughout my system. "He's not a fricking smurf," I growled, "And quite honestly, Stark, I wish you'd take this a little more seriously."

"Ah, where's the fun in that?" he asked. When I gave him a death glare, he held up his hands. "All right, all right, fair enough. If it makes you feel any better, I have a birthday present for you. I mean, I was just going to give it to you, but if you're that upset about your birthday, I might as well give it to you for that, right?"

I smacked the punching bag one more time, feeling cold sweat on the back of my neck, before I turned to him and raised an eyebrow. He smiled briefly, ordering, "Wait here," before ducking out of the room. I slouched to the side, shifting my weight to my right foot as I tried to catch my breath. This oughta be good.

Tony returned a moment later, carrying something small and black in his arms, tucked carefully into the crook of his arm and held against his chest. He watched it cautiously as he stepped inside, his movements more wary than when he'd left. Scooping it up gently into his hands, he handed the small, black-and-white kitten over to me.

"I took the liberty of naming it 'Hyde'," Tony said as I took the baby cat into both hands reflexively, holding it with great care. Immediately, all senses went on high alert into protecting the small scrap of fur as it mewed pathetically at me. "It certainly has the personality," Tony mused.

I looked at the little kitten in my hands, studying it carefully. It was small enough to stand on my palm, if it had wanted to, and fit well enough into one hand that it would have been perfectly comfortable if I held it that way. Pure jet-black, with two white paws (the left ones) and a white muzzle, it watched me with caramel-amber eyes that sparked with a life that the rest of its body did not seem to hold. Its fur colors were diluted, paler than they should have been, and though it had recently been cleaned, it showed signs of having ticks and fleas at some point. But above all, the little scrap was thin. Its fur hung loosely on tiny kitty bones, making the thing look and feel half-starved. There was almost no muscle on it. Its small claws dug into my arm as I settled it down in the same position Tony had, tucking it into the crook of my arm and holding it against my body, keeping it warm. I looked to Stark, my questions in my eyes as kitten claws dug into my skin. Not that I really noticed.

"You realize that it's a girl, right?" I asked Stark. I had, briefly, checked gender; and though Tony seemed genuinely surprised by that information, he blew it off.

"Meh, it's still a 'Hyde'." He answered flippantly. He gently tickled the animal beneath the chin, and it tried to nibble on his fingers. Well, I say 'nibble'. Though the action itself was cute enough to warrant such a word, the look in the kitten's amber eyes suggested that it was going for something more along the lines of 'mauling'.

"I found it-her, I guess- a few days ago," Stark informed me. "Next to what I'm guessing was its mother; and the rest of its litter." The look in his eyes- and the beaten and wearied state of Hyde herself- told me exactly what had happened to them before he did. "They were strays. Life on the streets… Well, she was the only one that survived."

He kept absently trying to tickle the kitten's chin, his finger dodging her toothy attacks naturally, reflexively. She was quick, but he was quicker. "Your parents had her for the past few days, when you were here at the Tower," Tony went on. "Got her cleaned up, took her to the vet… We were going to find a place for her when she killed their pet crow." He grinned viciously. "I figured you'd want her pretty badly after that."

Pet crow? My eyes narrowed. I hadn't seen the animal since my return, though its perch had still been there. I thought it had died with Fraye. "That thing was still alive?" I demanded.

"Not anymore it's not," Tony answered smugly. We'd kept the truth about my parents' pet from them for a long time-we'd thought it pretty pointless to mention to my parents that it wasn't an Asgardian bird, but Fraye's, since Fraye pretty much already had her eyes on them and it wasn't like it could have done much to them- but I'd figured that they might have guessed when they saw Loki's generals with crows on their shoulders. Tony cleared that up for me.

"We told them that it was one of Fraye's, and they were going to kill the thing themselves, but Hyde got to it first," he explained. "Truth be told, we were all pretty surprised that it lived past Fraye's death."

I considered that, then realized that we shouldn't have been surprised at all. The shadows had shown signs of sentience beyond Fraye and her influence; after all, the Hounds had fighting styles that differed from hers, as did the crows that we had fought… I pushed the thoughts aside and decided to just be grateful that their 'pet' was dead now. I found my fingers scratching Hyde behind the ears and felt no real inclination to stop; and Hyde did not seem to want me to stop, either. Changing the subject, I asked, "So you really think I should be taking care of something else right now? I can barely take care of myself."

There was a spike of something in Stark's expression, something close to pain. But he had it smothered in a heartbeat. "Well, she seems to like you," he said in a flat tone. I glanced down to the kitten, still tucked into the crook of my arm. Its sandpaper tongue was running against my skin steadily, licking the would-be scars that spelt out Loki's name. I kept scratching it behind the ears, looking at the tiny creature. I was struck suddenly by the thought of its past: it had lost its family, its parents, brothers and sisters… it was a stray, all alone in a world that had probably chewed it up and spit it back out alive. No wonder it had tried to kill Tony, no wonder it had the 'Hyde' personality. It didn't trust anyone.

I lifted it back into my hands, and it mewed at me again. I placed my nose against its tiny pink one.

"Well, Hyde," I told her, "I guess you've claimed me, then."

She bit my nose. Tiny kitten teeth dug into the delicate skin, making my eyes water, but I laughed, pulling her off carefully. I looked to Tony. "Fine, birthday problem forgiven, don't do it again." He grinned as I rolled the kitten onto its belly. It batted at my hands quickly and fiercely, claws still extended. There were little pinpricks of blood all over my hands now, but I didn't care so much. I realized then that Loki was watching, that he was mildly… curious, about my newest attachment. But it just reminded me that he wasn't here, that I couldn't show Hyde directly to him…

My heart sank and twisted. "Come on, little one," I told the kitten. "Let's go introduce you to your Better Half, shall we?" As she mewed at me again, her fur poofing out in an effort to make herself look dangerous, I left Stark behind and started my search for Jekyll.

---

Jekyll had been beyond ecstatic the first time he'd seen me after those four months. He'd jumped around and acted like a crazy animal for almost ten minutes straight. His reception to Hyde, however, was not so enthusiastic.

Well, that's not exactly true. Jekyll liked Hyde immediately. It was Hyde who didn't entirely appreciate Jekyll.

The instant I'd introduced the two, I'd kept Hyde in my hands, just in case Jekyll decided to take a snap at her. He was a dog, and she was a cat; the two species didn't exactly have the greatest track record for getting along. But, after a few wary sniffs, Jekyll's tail had started wagging, and he'd even tried to lick her face. It was pretty hilarious when she managed to hook her claws into his tongue; or, at least, hilarious in retrospect. At the time it was a bit of a panic.

Jekyll, however, did not learn from the experience, and tagged along beside her as I sat the three of us down on a couch. For the rest of the day, I kept Hyde locked in the room with me, keeping my eyes on her while allowing her a little freedom. She had immediately gone as far away from the two of us as she could, backing herself into a corner and hissing violently when Jekyll tried to get close. He'd eventually backed off when I called him back to my side, and finally he just placed himself in the other corner of the room, sighing heavily as he lay down. Hyde, however, eventually got too cold to stay by herself and, nose stuck up in the air and paws moving with haughty swiftness (made more adorable by the fact that she was still a little uncoordinated and thus tripped once or twice), she padded over to me. It took her three tries to get up to the couch, but by the time I reached my hand down to help her, she'd decided it would be easier to crawl up my leg instead. She curled up in my lap and stayed there, sleeping for the rest of the day. I let her do so; she didn't exactly weigh much, and I was pretty much used to Jekyll trying to do the same (and he was a fairly big animal).

A few of the Avengers visited, trying to see how I was holding up. But, as they day grew later, that stopped happening; and I was left with my pets and the man in my head, who was as alone and exhausted as I was.

It was almost two in the morning when I finally stumbled to my bedroom, Jekyll following behind me and Hyde in my arm again. The latter was snoozing peacefully enough, but when I opened the door and set her on the bed, she woke. Immediately disoriented, she jumped from the bed and went to the corner of the room again, hissing half-heartedly at us before curling into a ball and trying to sleep again. I envied her, and envied Jekyll, who immediately took his rightful place at the foot of my bed as I changed into PJs and lay down, knowing full well that I wouldn't be able to sleep. Loki, in his prison, had been trying to sleep for almost an hour now; but he, too, was wide awake. I put myself on my side, and he turned to do the same, so that, if he were really here, we would have been facing each other. Instead, however, I was only facing the lamp, watching the light.

I stared at the light for a very long time, making my eyes hurt, until I was forced to close them. But I could still see it, a red splotch behind my eyelids. And I couldn't keep my eyes closed for long.

Eventually, I turned back up to the ceiling, the light still burning at my side. I couldn't close my eyes again, couldn't stop staring at the lit room, trying to ignore the shadows that the light cast. I stayed that way for a long time, until my bones ached from holding the same position for so long, but I couldn't move. Loki, too, remained perfectly still, staring at the light in his cell and nothing else. Because what could we do? We couldn't close our eyes. We couldn't sleep. Not with the darkness waiting. Not with our nightmares lurking in those shadows.

We stayed like that, Loki and I, for hours. Neither of us dared to speak to the other; we didn't want to disturb whatever sleep one of us might have gotten. Every so often, one of us would doze; only to be snapped awake again, brought out of dreams by the pounding of our own heart. We never slept deeply enough to have a proper nightmare, but we knew they were there. Waiting.

Hyde finally got cold again, and I helped her onto the bed after her fourth jump. Tail held high, with all the dignity and grace she could muster, the kitten walked over to Jekyll and placed herself directly beside his big, furry body, curling up behind him. Jekyll's tail thumped once, but he gave no other indication that he'd even noticed the other animal.

I glanced down at my pets, this extended part of my family. Jekyll, with his shadow scars that were as thick and ugly as some of mine, with his scuffed-up muzzle and tail and side. Hyde, with her more inner scars and inability to appreciate anyone else's care. Then there was me, with so many scars inside and out that it was a wonder I was composed of anything but scar tissue… and Loki, who was so much the same, only his scars came from the lies of others…

I sighed deeply to myself and, unable to help myself, lifted Hyde in one hand. She immediately dug claws into my fingers to help herself hold on, but I ignored this, setting her down beside me as I gently lifted Jekyll as well, pulling him to my side. It was a bit more of a task to do that with him, as he was much larger than the kitten, but he was fairly compliant and, once he understood what I wanted, stood and curled up next to me, lying down on his legs and sticking his cold nose in my face. I set Hyde down in between us, which, though she mewed a few times in protest, she actually seemed to enjoy after a moment. Twice the warmth, I supposed.

But it wasn't enough. They were warm and comfortable and nice to have… but they couldn't keep away the nightmares. And they couldn't save me from the dark.

I closed my eyes and, though I never slept, I tried to surrender to it nonetheless.

---

When morning came the next day, I didn't hesitate. I'd counted the minutes until the sun came up, and now that the dawn was beginning to lighten the sky, and the gold disk of sunlight beginning to appear on the skyscraper horizon, I stood and changed swiftly. T-shirt, shorts, flip flops. Anything that I could throw on quickly. Jekyll was immediately beside me, walking nearby while Hyde voiced her tiny kitten protests at being woken so early. She seemed happy enough when I fed her though.

Once I'd taken care of her and Jekyll, and locked Hyde in the room where her litter box was- she was too small for me to trust leaving her alone like I did with Jekyll, though that would change soon enough- I headed to one of the living rooms and waited impatiently for Thor. I'd passed a few mirrors on my way, and I knew I looked like crap; with dark circles beneath my eyes and my hair pulled into a sloppy ponytail that I now tried to straighten as I grew more and more fidgety, keeping my hands moving for the simple sake of my sanity.

I knew Thor would be back soon. That was all I had to do; wait and hold on until Thor came.

Easier said than done. Thor did come early, for him, but Loki and I were still waiting for a number of hours before he did so. The other Avengers tried to say their hellos and good mornings, but I'd barely noticed, barely paid attention. My eyelids were heavy, but every time I closed my eyes, black ones would be staring back at me, and there would be laughter in my ears, sharp and sugary, and I'd be forced to open them again.

When Thor finally arrived, I'd leapt to my feet and hugged him like I always would. He seemed to know how desperate I was to see my other half, however, because he wasted very little time with pleasantries, greeting the other Avengers- who had gathered nearby and were watching a movie with me, though I didn't even know the title, let alone the plot, of this particular cinematic feature- before he held the Tesseract out to me. I'd taken the handle, and he'd twisted it, sending us back to Asgard.

I didn't bother with any other kind of pleasantries, thanking Thor and heading down the route that I had memorized long ago. The path to Loki's cell was as familiar as the walk from my house to the Tower, and in moments, I was before the doors.

The guards let me pass, as they always did, exchanging a look at how quickly I had arrived. But they didn't seem overly surprised by it. I went into the darkness, shivering and wanting to puke as I did so, and forced myself to close my eyes until Loki saw me emerge in the light. His hand reached out and grasped mine, pulling me away from the dark and closer to him, directly up next to his chest. Holding me close, he wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on mine.

This isn't going to work, I thought, a little hysterically, as I wrapped my arms around him in turn. What are we going to do, Loki? We can't even stay away from each other for one night! We can't even… can't even sleep! What kind of sick torture is that?

He didn't comment on the word 'torture'; though we both knew that, when I said it, there was no exaggeration behind it. I was very familiar with torture; and this was one of those things that fit quite well into that particular category.

We didn't stay standing there for long. We were both too exhausted for that. We tried to sit upright for a while, to talk, perhaps, but I ended up sleeping on his shoulder; and so Loki adjusted me so that I was on the bed, and, though he fell asleep sitting up, I stirred long enough to pull him down, so that he was lying next to me. It wasn't easy-the bed was barely big enough for the both of us- but eventually, the two of us were unconscious and together, the nightmares banished and the fears eradicated.

It was a very long time before I woke up again, still pretty exhausted but now a little less so. Loki was still sleeping. I stayed next to him with my eyes closed until he woke up, not long after I did.

He turned to face me as I sat up, moving to the edge of the bed. I ran my hands down my face, wishing that I could wake up, and he sat up moments later, pulling himself upright so that he could sit next to me, pulling me next to him. I didn't know if I was technically allowed to sleep next to the guy while he was imprisoned, but if anyone had an issue with it, I would put them back in their place pretty freaking quick. I didn't care if Odin himself admonished me for it; we were the same damn person and if anyone had an issue, they could jump in a lake.

I tucked my head against Loki's chest as I tried to pull my head together, as I tried to force my sleep-addled brain to work again. It was a little clearer than Loki's; he was still waking up. We stayed sitting there for a long time, in silence. His hand linked in mine as we stared out at the darkness, and I shuddered as I realized that, without me in the world outside, neither of us had any way to tell what time it was. There was just the darkness, and our little island of light inside of it. No night and day, no sun in the sky… hell, I didn't even have a watch.

We were not awake for long- maybe ten minutes- before we heard the doors of the cell opening. We flew apart, moving away from each other quickly, and unexplained guilt churned in my stomach as I sat down on one of the two chairs in the cell, straightening myself quickly. After a moment, however, hearing footsteps inside of the darkness, I forced myself to stop. It was fairly ridiculous of me to try and hide this, to feel guilty for it. For crying out loud, it wasn't as though we'd actually done anything wrong.

I straightened myself a little, made myself presentable, and put some defiance in my eyes as I sat back down next to Loki. A few moments later, a palace messenger- I could tell by the gold trimmed collar, light clothing, and poison tipped dagger in his belt- stepped into the light, half-bowing to me whilst ignoring Loki completely.

"Lady Frost," he greeted me. "A Jotun embassy arrived on Asgard a number of hours ago; they wish to speak with you."

My eyebrows shot up as I stood. "Hours?" I asked. Glancing to Loki and feeling a blush heat my cheeks up as I realized that they would have tried to retrieve me at this time- and would have seen me sleeping beside their convicted prince- I turned back and, keeping the defiance in my eyes, inquired, "Why wasn't I informed sooner?"

The messenger didn't meet my gaze, still almost half-bowed. "When they learned that you were resting, they said that they did not wish for you to be disturbed," he answered in a monotone. "If we may, Lady Frost?" he gestured for me to follow. I glanced back to Loki, who shrugged mildly, and walked with the messenger out of the cell.

As I walked, I pulled my hair out of its sloppy ponytail and re-did it swiftly. There was nothing to do to help with the lack of makeup, strictly Midgardian shorts and tee, and other all around informal parts of myself, but I carried it off well enough, standing tall in spite of it. At the very least, the shorts and tee showed off a majority of my shadow scars, which commanded a lot of respect amongst Jotuns.

It was odd, how little I cared about my appearance now, how little I cared if these kings and other political powers saw me… like I was. It used to seem so important. It used to mean something. But I was no longer intimidated, nor impressed, by these rulers of worlds. It wasn't about what you looked like; it was how you carried yourself. Another lesson I'd learned from Fraye; after all, she'd always seemed so thin, so sick, so unhealthy… and that was when she wasn't even in her child's form…

There. That was something that did scare me: how much I'd learned from Fraye.

I entered the conference room that the messenger guided me towards; Odin was already inside, and moments later, the Jotuns were led inside as well. They must have dispersed when they learned that I was not to be in immediate attendance. Now, as they reconvened, I watched them all.

"My apologies for the delay," I said, a mixture of cordiality and stone. "Had I known you were here, it would not have occurred."

I glanced at the five Jotuns who had arrived: Sigil, Avalon, Steprin, and two whom I had no name for. I vaguely remembered one of them fighting with a crow at some point in the battle.

"We are certain it wouldn't," Avalon said, graciously enough.

As Thor entered, moments after the Jotuns, the doors closed, signifying that everyone meant to be in attendance was in attendance. We all sat around the center table. It used to be so large, so imposing. This room used to make me feel two inches tall. Now I sat among Giants and Kings, as their equal. It wasn't daunting, to have this kind of power. It just… fit. It fit into my universe now.

"For the sake of brevity, I believe it best if we keep this simple," Sigil said in a polite tone, after everyone had been seated. Looking first to Odin, and then to me, he said, "We wish for the Son of Laufey to return to his rightful place on the throne."

If I'd been drinking water at the time, I would have done a spit take. As it was, my heart skipped a few beats, and for just the briefest of seconds, time seemed to freeze. Loki, watching everything inside of my mind, discovered that all of the air inside of his lungs had vanished. I coughed once, the only visible sign of my surprise, as Thor's brilliant blue eyes grew huge. It wasn't long before a smile battled its way onto his face, but I kept my own face as composed as I could, still half in shock.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, and though my control over my features was good, my control over my voice suffered a little. It trembled just the slightest bit, but I cleared my throat quickly, pushing the shakiness aside.

"He is the rightful heir to the throne," Avalon reminded me patiently, her red gaze steady, unmoving and unyielding. "Regardless of his past crimes on Asgard, he is a Prince on Jotunheim; and with the loss of Laufey, and now of Kiross… he is our King."

My heart started to race. Could it be true? Could it be possible? No. No, our luck was not that good. Our limited supply of 'good luck' had run out ages ago, with the defeat of Fraye. There had to be a trick, a catch…

You, Loki thought quietly. They will never accept you by my side. We could no longer be… as we are.

The thought made my stomach sink and flip-flop, but I wasn't as certain as he was about that. Sigil was continuing where his sister had left off. "Kiross only held the crown for a short time, but he was not our king by blood: and there are many that are saying that he has served his purpose, now that Laufey's son has returned. There are even some who believe that it was nothing short of fate, that the Shadowslayer should make himself known as the old king died."

There was something in Sigil's eyes as he said this, something that sent a prickle down my spine. For some strange reason, I was suddenly very certain that he was the one who had started these particular rumors; though I couldn't for the life of me imagine his reasoning. I pushed the thoughts aside as I looked to Odin. His face was entirely unreadable, but in no way showing any of the surprise that was in his son's eyes, nor in mine.

He knew, I thought, amazed, as I stared at the Asgardian King. The old man freaking knew! He knew about this from the beginning!

Of course he did, Loki thought, equally in awe, though he was trying to smother it (with no success). He pulled up a memory in both of our minds, of something Odin had said… about how none of our worlds were blind to who he was…

And he was the son of Laufey. He was the rightful heir to the Jotun throne.

Loki and I had been worried about whether or not he was going to spend his life behind bars… and Odin was already seeing his son with a freaking crown…

How did I not see this? My mind started flashing, my brain aching. All of those times the Jotuns had half-bowed to us, had gotten defensive when they'd thought we were in trouble… Long live the Shadowslayers… that wasn't so far from 'Long live the King'… And that Jotun, with that fury in his eyes as he watched Loki being escorted to his prison in chains… his future King, in chains…

I swallowed tightly. The Jotuns had shown such respect to us; and not only because we were legends, but because Loki might very well have been their next king. It all made sense now, all of it, every last second of it.

Odin leaned forwards, his face troubled, as though he had not planned this from the beginning. How far ahead did this man see? How many thousands of steps ahead of us was he? Almost as though hesitant, the old King said, "His trial was meant to take place in two weeks…"

"As was his coronation," Sigil responded without the barest of pauses.

"If he accepted," I found myself cutting in; and realized only after the words had been said that they were not my words. My eyebrows furrowed.

Why wouldn't you accept? I asked Loki quietly. I thought… I mean, this solves everything. Diplomatic immunity! For crying out loud, Loki, you'd have a crown! Isn't this what you wanted?

Not at the cost of losing you, he answered coldly. I had that once.

The others inside of the conference room seemed to recognize my vacant stare, and seemed to understand what it meant. They turned to each other and fell into discussion, tuning me out as I spoke with Loki.

"If he accepted," Sigil agreed, looking to Odin. "But he is our king regardless of any laws of yours that he may have broken. Should our king wish for peace with Asgard, that is what we wish. Please do not now say that this peace must be jeopardized because of past crimes committed by a current king?"

I was keeping tabs on this conversation as I spoke with Loki, but not paying as much attention as I probably should have. I don't think you would lose me, I told him. Think about it, Loki; the Jotuns convened this meeting, but they didn't ask for you to be here. They knew that, in a way, you already were; so long as I was here. They could hardly bring a prisoner into politics right now, but they were well within their right to ask for me to be here… why should that change? They know what we are to each other. And I don't think they'll stop us from being that.

Loki didn't respond; but after a long moment, he nodded tersely. His thoughts, however, were still buzzing, still working. He knew that there was sense to my words… but he wanted insurance. Some way to be entirely and utterly certain that this was the case…

An idea started to stir, but he clamped down on it, not letting me see it… just until he could be certain that it would or would not work, just until he had worked out all of the variables. I let him do so; he frequently liked to think by himself, without my influence, before bringing an idea for the two of us to discuss together. I had no issues with that.

Odin and Sigil were still discussing the issue of Loki's imprisonment. "It is not by Asgard's laws that we feel it necessary to keep him incarcerated until the Trial is reconvened," Odin informed Sigil. "It is for the security of Midgard. The crimes he committed were against the Earth; and if those of Earth were to know of this turn of events, then, perhaps, this discussion could proceed."

"I will inform the Avengers," Thor offered immediately. He glanced around the table to see the general consensus of affirmatives before standing.

"And I should discuss this with Loki himself," I said, also standing. "Whatever lies ahead for him if he does not accept the throne, it is still a responsibility that must be considered at length." I looked to the Jotuns. "He was, after all, never intending on making his claim to the throne."

"Whether he intended to or not," Avalon said evenly. "The right is his." She nodded deeply. "But, he should indeed consider this."

I nodded at everyone around the table, not bothering to half-bow to Odin as I might have once done. He did not seem overly offended by this fact. Thor and I left the room together, though we were to go separate ways… and once we were out of sight of the conference room, Thor abruptly turned on me and swept me into a spine-cracking, rib-reorganizing hug.

I knew the hug was for both of us; as we his next words, whispered into my ear. "Did I not always say that we were equals?"

I squeezed Thor back, wrapping my arms around him despite the hindrance of his metal armor. "You were both meant to be kings," I whispered back. Thor released me, grinning like a lunatic, and headed off to retrieve the Tesseract. I walked back down the halls and returned to Loki's cell. He was being oddly quiet, still working through the details of his newest plans, still trying to work out all the kinks…

I went into his cell, feeling lighter than air despite his misgivings. The guards allowed me entry, as they always did, and even the oppressive darkness was not enough to drag me entirely back down to the ground as I made it through and headed towards the light. When I made it to Loki, I smiled at him; he looked back and half-smiled warily in return. He had that nervous look in his eye again, that one that shone through despite his empty features, the one that only I would have been able to detect.

"Loki…" I said slowly. "This is it. This is your ticket out of here. The answer to all of our problems." I shrugged. "Except maybe the 'mortal' thing, but we can work that out." I looked him in the eye. "S.H.I.E.L.D. would have to back off; because if they didn't, they'd risk war with Jotunheim. You'd be free; you'd be a freaking king." As he remained silent, I said, in a quiet voice, "Please don't tell me that you just don't want to rule over a race of monsters. That you still think of them as lesser than you."

At that, he shook his head. "No, Frost," he answered in a breath. His eyes turned downwards. "I have many reservations, but this is not one of them." He sighed heavily before looking back to me, turning liquid jade eyes to my own brown ones. "I was a king once before, Natalie," he whispered. "And I was not the magnificent ruler you think that I would be." He shook his head. "Even as a king… I could never be like my brother, or my father… I could never rule as they do."

My eyes softened. I stepped towards him, placing a hand on his arm. "Then don't," I answered quietly. "Don't rule like them; rule like you. Just be content being Loki." Before he could open his mouth and say that he'd done so once, and the Earth had suffered for it, I placed my finger on his lips. "You're not half of a person anymore, Loki. You're not being driven insane by the numbness in your own head. You are who you're meant to be now; and who you're meant to be could be a great king." I smiled softly at him. "Trust me when I say that."

He smiled softly down at me. Taking a strand of hair from my bangs, twisting it gently in his fingertips, he brushed it aside casually so that he could look at the entirety of my face. "And how could I be any kind of ruler, if I did not have you there to continually remind me of such things?" He sighed deeply, shaking his head slowly. "How could they accept us, Frost? How could they accept a Jotun King with a human lover? A king who will live a mortal lifespan alongside you, but no longer?"

"Well, clearly they've thought about that, because they want you as king, anyway." I said firmly. "Like I said: they know what we are to each other. They know that we can never be separated."

He nodded slowly, but he had that thoughtful look in his nervous eyes, the one that I had become very used to. "And what if we were to make that even more permanent? If we were to announce that inseparability in a more… official way? A more… undeniable way?"

I lifted an eyebrow. The walls between us caved. My eyes widened as his idea, the one he'd been keeping secret from me, flooded into my mind. My lips went dry. My chest grew tight, and my heart started pounding.

"I know that it is soon," he said, keeping his words a little too measured, a little too even, so that I knew that he was having difficulty keeping them from rushing out. "And that it is… reckless. A type of recklessness achieved only by you or my brother. But… it would mean a great deal to all of our worlds- Earth, Asgard, Jotunheim- and… it would keep you beside me." He took my hand in both of his. I realized then that his fingers were shaking, trembling. "It needs only to be an announcement, for now. And should you change your mind at any later time, I will not hold it against you." his eyes were strangely innocent as he waved his trembling fingertips over my hand. As he pulled them away, there was something on my hand, something small and shining. I swallowed very painfully, my throat closed to the width of a needle. It was suddenly very hard to breathe.

I looked up to Loki. He hadn't so much as actually said the words; but he didn't need to. The question was in his eyes as opposed to his words, in the colors of jade as opposed to the sounds of his voice. He seemed oddly childlike in his nervousness… the shock melted away. Of course he did. Of course he did. And for these exact reasons. Because he was Loki and that was the way he thought.

I smiled at him, gently, blinking a few times. I knew then: we were dreaming. At any moment, I would wake up. I would be with Fraye again. But that was okay. Because now was just fine, and I was going to live with it. I nodded a few times, my head bobbing slowly, minutely. The worry drained out of him, relief flooding in its place, and he smiled at me delicately.

I threw my arms around his neck. "Reckless or not," I whispered into his ear, then kissed his sharp cheekbone once. "You're perfect, Loki."

He wrapped his arms around me in return, closing his eyes. We spent a moment like that before I forced myself to break away, kissing him again, this time just a second's peck on the lips, before turning around and heading back to the meeting.

There was a lot of work to do.

---

The Avengers had not all gathered in the conference room, but they had sent a few representatives: namely Steve, Clint, and-oddly enough- Tony. I was, surprisingly, the last person to arrive; apparently, I'd spent longer on my journey to Loki than I'd thought. Discussions were already underway; it seemed that everyone had come to the agreement that the Avengers- though 'somewhat concerned' about this turn of events- were willing to put the past behind them, based on Loki's most recent deeds. That didn't stop Clint and Tony from having enormous, shit-eating grins on their faces when I entered the room. They weren't concerned at all, not even 'somewhat'.

I entered the room, and all eyes fell to me. I took my place at the table as Sigil asked, "And Loki, m'lady? Does he accept his birthright?"

I folded my hands in front of me, looking around at everyone, and wondering what they expected. I was certain that none of them expected what I was going to say next.

"He does," I answered tonelessly, looking to Sigil, Avalon, Steprin, and the other two giants in turn. "However, he has some concerns that must be addressed beforehand; and thus, a demand to be met."

Sigil and Avalon looked mildly surprised, but it was Steprin who sighed quietly and nodded. "As is well within his right as king," he answered in a gentle-but-somehow-authoritative monotone. "What, may I ask, would this demand be concerning?"

I tried to keep from twisting my hands and refolded them instead. "Me," I answered. Avalon blinked, Sigil seemed unsurprised, Steprin met my gaze evenly, and the Avengers-Thor included- all gave me curious glances. Odin's eye was similarly on me, but, as usual, his gaze was unreadable. For some reason, I realized that I no longer thought that I could surprise him; even with something as earth-shattering as the truth that I was about to drop on everyone's heads. I met everyone's eyes briefly before I went on, "He wishes for me to be able to travel freely amongst Jotunheim and Earth-and possibly Asgard, if you would be willing, your majesty-" I nodded to Odin as I said this, before I went on, "Regardless of current politics between worlds; and regardless of whatever rank I may hold."

There was a momentary pause. And then Clint nodded. "We could go for that," he said easily. He was a good politician, but not entirely great at speaking like an Asgardian. I realized then that he quite possibly cared less than I did about that.

Sigil shrugged mildly. "As it has been said. He would be king, and this would be well within his rights to ask for."

Odin nodded slowly. He didn't even need to say anything. We all knew he was in agreement. Tony, however, was watching me with a puzzled expression.

"'Rank'?" He finally asked. "What? He planning on promoting you, Pizza Girl?"

Of the Jotuns, only Sigil and Steprin managed to refrain from looking at Tony in a mildly disgusted way, as though wondering if all mortals were so tactless. Considering that Steve was looking at him the same way, this wasn't taken with any great measure of offense; in fact, Tony wasn't even looking at them. His eyes were on me.

My stomach dropped. Well, Tony had offered the perfect opportunity; no point in being a coward now…

"Actually, no." I answered. I couldn't meet all eyes, so I kept them on Stark instead. It was fun to blow Stark's mind, anyway. I raised my left hand, showing off the simple silver band on my ring finger. "He plans on marrying me."

With those seven syllables, the world was entirely smothered in silence. And then, as one, Tony and Steve demanded, "HE WHAT?"

---

A/N: :P I couldn't resist.

So! There will be one more chapter in this 'book' (an epilogue of sorts), and on the same day that I upload the epilogue, I will be uploading the first chapter of the next 'book'. (Yes, there is going to be a third one. There's actually going to be four total. Sorry to anyone who was looking forward to the end.) So it may take a little while before I upload them, so please be patient!

The next book will be called 'The Avenging of Natalie Laufyeson' and will feature a lot about Natalie's… 'recovery'. Along with new enemies, new faces, and lots of new characters whoo boy.

Hope you look forward to it! If not… well, sorry again. ^^;

Anyway. Please review! It really helps to know that people are still reading this insanely long story of mine. ^^;