TaaDaa! Here it is! Sorry for making you wait so long… this chapter was not very cooperative and it's really long… Like my longest yet. It really didn't want the tail end cut off (cuz then I'd have a tiny scene all by itself that kinda needs to be attached to something) so it is what it is. I shall gift you with fluffy adorableness before I promptly yank the rug out from under you… sorry and not sorry about that. That's sort of just the nature of this story. But I hope you're all enjoying the ride...

An ENORMOUS thank you to those of you who helped me through this very irritating and labor intensive chapter. It's been a battle for sure. And also a great big thank you to my reviewers cuz you make me feel all warm and fuzzy and appreciated! And since I'm lazy, I usually need the encouragement...

And holy crap you guys… 100 reviews! *throws imaginary party to which you are all invited* That's absolutely incredible!

Anyways… Have fun ma lovelies...

There's no place like home, she thought. Even when we hate it or even if it's gone, we yearn for it. But not simply the ground upon which it once resided, but the aura and the sense of belonging. The place in the world you were gifted with until you had to find your own way. The friends you didn't have to find – they were just always there. Long ago, she had let all of that go. There would never be another place like home, but I've never felt closer before.

Loki opened his heart and made a place for her to stay. But watching him tear open old wounds in the process was gut wrenching. She'd never understand how they got here. At each other's throats one moment and in each other's arms the next, begging to just forget all that came before. And not only their slights and jests and harsher words, but everything. The lives that led them here. The heartache and pain. The torment and loneliness. There's no place like home, but I don't need it anymore. They were still locked in a dungeon. The ways to ease the boredom were dwindling slowly to nothing, but she wasn't alone. Never alone again. So long as he was there, the years could pass with everyday and every hour the same mundane existence and she would be content.

But their game of smoke and mirrors still irked her in a way she couldn't completely ignore. A nagging thought. A thorn in her side. Ever since their late night conversation, she'd been mulling that thought around. On that night she'd been unsure. Now she was simply stuck between a highly conscious desire and an involuntary panic attack. Knowing that Loki's presence was only a projection helped her smother the anxiety in the beginning, but now it only upset her. She wanted it to be real but there was still that little voice reminding her of all that transpired already. Still indecisive as always.

Loki held his distance, but she could feel the way he tested her – ever so gently as the days dragged on. Pressing closer. Teasingly closer. Only to pull away in the end for fear of her fear. Stupid fear. Stupid panic. Stupid everything.

Stupid me.

But he was endlessly persistent and patient. Little but time, he'd said. His life was measured in millennia of course. It was only fitting. Naomi's life, however, was measured merely in decades and already she'd grown impatient with herself. And Loki took notice, finding amusement in that. And so it became yet another game of theirs. She'd yet to decide how she felt about this one. But she could sum it up in a single word: frustration.

For now, they indulged a siesta and he sat in the center of her cell, softly reading a poem from one of his leather bound tomes. She was nestled safely against him, head in his lap as every word, enunciated in his ever-dulcet tone washed over her, leaving her numb and content. "Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness." His fingers habitually found their way into her hair in the way they had day after day for days on end. It had become part of their rhythm – a silent hymn for tortured hearts. The only peace they would ever find down here. "You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should." And it was enough.

"… in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace with your soul. With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. And above all, strive to be happy."

"Is this your first time reading this book?" she mocked, glancing up at him. "I'm not sure you've quite absorbed its message." He feigned bopping her on the head with it, before she quickly snatched it from him. It was a nicely leather bound book. Old. Older than her probably and very well read in spite of her jest. She flipped open the page he'd been reading. "This is in English," she noted quizzically. She flipped a few pages back. "This is one of our books."

"Well I thought all of my books would be boring. My mother thought I should learn something while I'm stuck down here, so they're not really poem or prose. Endless information. This one seemed the better option."

"How did you get this?"

"I have made many visits to Midgard in my lifetime, none for a very long time, spare the last. Long before I invaded it, before the more recent turn of events, my brother and I used to come often. As younger men we were worshipped as gods so many civilizations ago. Thor made it a point to parade around, winning the affections of the masses, while I reeked the silent havoc for which I'm know. Our visits were more clandestine towards the end. But I did manage to appropriate several souvenirs over the centuries."

Naomi closed the book, glancing up at him with a smile. "Does that make me your latest souvenir?"

Loki sat up a bit, his expression rather unreadable all of the sudden. His fingers unwound from her hair before lightly caressing her jaw. She waited a long moment for the panic that was still gradually subsiding, but it didn't come. "A gift," he said, running his cool fingertips across her cheek. "And by far the greatest I have ever received." Naomi set the book aside and further curled into his lap until his arms closed in around her, all the while barely restraining a blush. His flesh was usually cold but his embrace was warm. And she would be endlessly happy to stay wrapped within it forever.

"If I asked you why you were here would you tell me?"

His eyes suddenly shined with the same nagging curiosity she'd been dealing with for the entirety of her time here. "I would," she quickly decided. "But I don't know why I'm here."

"No idea?" Naomi shook her head. "No big war crimes? No spreading alien secrets or selling other-worldly weapons?" She continued to shake her head, starting to giggle with his every preposterous suggestion. "No consorting with beings from other planets?"

"Not until now," she pointed out, her smile widening significantly as she leaned back to look up at him. "So unless you and your alien friends can predict future crimes, I doubt that was it."

Loki laughed shortly before all amusement quickly deserted him again. "Would you tell me what happened?"

She thought back, staring into her lap for a moment – it was months ago now, but the memory was still clear enough. "Yeah," she finally responded. "I was just walking home from a friend's house. It was only around the corner, which is why I don't have any shoes." She gestured to her still bare feet, wiggling her toes. They'd roughened up considerably after two months of shoe-less wear and tear. "I hate walking home alone. I hate being alone in general actually," she added miserably. Loki began twirling her hair again, ensuring her without words she'd no need to worry about that. "I was walking home," she began again. "And all of the sudden he was there. He came at me from behind and I never even saw him. I still don't know what he looked like, other than the fact he was big. I haven't got much weight to throw around on a good day. I didn't have a chance. I mean, I tried."

She grabbed her pen from where it sat not far away. She made a stabbing motion in the same way she had the night she was abducted. "I know I broke the skin more than once, but he didn't even flinch."

He took the pen, turning it over in his hand, noting the blood that still stained its tip. "Æsir are much stronger than humans. Physically denser I think, as well. At full strength, even bullets cease to be harmful. It's strange this had any effect at all. Did he say anything to you?"

Naomi shook her head. "No. Not a word. I mean, he might have, but I couldn't really think past the nauseating ride here."

Loki grinned. "The bifrost. You get used to it."

"I'd rather not actually."

"Well, it's by far the easiest where transportation between the worlds is concerned."

"If you say so," she huffed unconvinced. Her mind wandered, trying not to imagine the alternatives. "My parents were supposed to be coming to visit me," she said quietly. "The day after I was taken, they probably showed up and I wasn't there. Who knows what they thought – certainly not this."

"I'm sure they're looking for you," Loki said quickly.

"But they won't find me will they?"

Loki's hands stilled and he sighed softly. "No. Even if your family knew what became of you, they could never reach you here. I have told you before, I will do anything I can to return you home. But there is little I can do from here."

"I know." She shifted in his lap, turning to tuck her shoulder beneath his. She pressed her cheek to his chest, sighing deeply and breathing the scent that was only his. "But I'm not too worried about going home anyway," she said quietly.

Loki frowned down at her in surprise. "And what prompted that change of heart?" he asked, tangling her hair around his fingers again.

"You."

Slowly Loki twined his fingers into hers, his cool touch making her skin prickle all over with goose bumps. "What did I do to deserve you?" He shifted her closer, his hand coming to the back of her neck. He pressed his lips to her forehead and when she didn't shy away, he moved to her temple, then her cheek and then down to her jaw. And when he came to the crook of her neck, he paused and she very clearly recalled the first time his lips had barely brushed that spot. The feeling of having utter bliss seared into her skin until the panic washed it away. But this time her thoughts were quiet, her heart racing of new accord.

Naomi tilted her head back, resting heavier on the hand that supported it, arching her neck just slightly. His next breath warmed her skin before his lips covered her quickening pulse. She shivered as his kiss traveled down her neck, nearly meeting one of her collarbones before she felt that sickeningly familiar turn of her gut. She half turned in his grasp, bracing his shoulder and praying the panic would not return again. Not again. Not again. She pinched her eyes shut, her grip tightening as she tried to force it down. Please not again. "Naomi." She still shook in his gently tightening embrace as she tried to catch her careening composure. Her mind hardly functioned in this state, screaming a thousand things at once, none of which made sense. She desperately, blindly searched for something – anything to ground her again. She frantically pulled herself upright in a vain attempt to escape. "Naomi, look at me."

Loki's voice suddenly pierced her cacophony of frantic thoughts and she slowly opened her eyes. "It's me. Naomi, it's me. It's all right." His hand came to her cheek and she sat stark still as he blatantly ignored her need to escape – to just breathe – to center her mind again – to be anywhere but here. But Loki held her there, his deep green eyes centered on hers until slowly the waves of panic began to recede. She felt his hand on her back, massaging slow circles until the panic was only a shadow, lost in his unexpected ministrations. "I gave you my word I would never let anything harm you. Not again. Not ever. You're safe. Do you understand?"

She blankly stared at him for what could have been a lifetime. Safe. Safe? Since being abducted – since living alone – since her family's desertion – since her sister's unending abuse, every single day was a battle of paranoia and loneliness. She had little conception of what it meant to be safe. She'd failed to protect herself twice so far over the course of this adventure. But Loki, in so few words, made all that seem such a distant horror. Safe?

They hadn't been so close in all their time together. She'd been so utterly terrified of falling into a fit of anxiety from which she couldn't return. But Loki's arms surrounded her entirely, keeping her close, proving once again that he undeniably cared for her. His fingers fiddled with the curls that laid on her back as he anxiously awaited her response to a question she'd completely forgotten. His eyes took on this look of defeat as she continued to stare, her thoughts refusing to form words or even logical thought. "I apologize. I shouldn't have pushed you so far," he said finally, his hypnotic gaze disappearing. She finally remembered the question.

Naomi grabbed his arm as he began to remove himself from their embrace in his customary retreat. "No." Her grip was like iron, ensuring he wouldn't disappear again. "I know. I know. I do. I do understand." Loki settled slightly again and her grip relaxed. She watched him carefully as if she expected him to suddenly withdrawal what he's said. But he only returned her stare with a gaze so burdened with longing.

She didn't need time. She didn't need space. She needed him. After so many years having her strength and independence exploited, needing someone was a terrifyingly foreign feeling. But she knew without a doubt that she'd be safe so long as he was there. Safe. "I'm not afraid anymore," she admitted, her voice quiet, but she captured Loki's attention all the same. Her hand came to the back of his neck and for a moment, he seemed more startled then she did. She twined her fingers through his thick, raven-black hair, until her nails brushed his scalp. Naomi felt him shiver as she dragged him closer again, her other hand coming to rest against his cheek, tracing the prominent bone beneath her thumb.

Her lips parted, barely a breath from his and for the longest time they were still, until Loki's restraint finally disappeared. First it was only a simple press, his lips barely parting hers so that they shared the next breath, but the next spoke volumes of a thoroughly ingrained desperation. She felt the tip of his tongue slide along her bottom lip, the sensation giving her chills. She further parted her lips and drew him closer, both of her hands tightly knotted into his curly black hair. She gasped when his tongue finally invaded her mouth. As her mind was slowly drowned in her overwhelming desire, she felt her body sink deeper into his hold. His chest became a cool press against hers as his arms further surrounded her to account for her suddenly slack form. She felt almost dizzy.

She parted from him only a moment to catch her breath before losing herself to his kiss once more. She heard him sigh contentedly into her mouth like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His arm adjusted around her waist and then eased her from his lap until her back was pressed against the floor. She caught him smiling as he trailed kisses down her neck again, drawing slowly at the crook of her jaw. She'd never seen him so utterly blissful and she could feel his gentle grin against her skin. Her heart fluttered to even imagine what he felt after all this time.

But something wasn't right. That's not right.

Her head fell to one side, her cheek cool against the floor of the cell as Loki continued to kiss her neck. She opened her eyes and was shocked quickly back to the present. This isn't real. This wasn't real. But Loki was real – lying barely conscious in his cell, his limbs arranged uncomfortably the way he had fallen.

"Loki," she gasped. "Loki stop." He hadn't even heard her. She pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him off with as much strength as she could muster. "Loki stop!" She shoved him until he finally sat up, only half comprehending her sudden distress. "Loki, you have to stop – you're going to kill yourself!"

The next time she moved to shake him out of his fog, she fell through him as his clone was reduced to a mere projection and his consciousness retreated back where it belonged. The barrier between them hummed loudly smelling faintly of ozone as his image in her cell finally disappeared. She was paralyzed as she waited for him to wake again and it was the longest few seconds of her entire life. But he suddenly convulsed as the waking world hit him like a ton of bricks. His chest heaved, his lungs forcefully taking in air, which he very shortly released with a sharp cough that spattered the white floor with blood. He quickly collected himself, his shaking arms bracing the floor until the feeling passed.

"You okay?" she asked quietly, still unmoving on her hands and knees.

He nodded, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. His entire body was shiny with sweat, like he'd just run a marathon; his wavy black hair stuck to the sides of his face. He pulled himself closer to the glass before slouching down against it, the back of his head making a loud thunk against it. Naomi finally found her limbs again and crawled to meet him, her back settling – theoretically – against his. "Loki, I'm so sorry. I know you can't – I mean. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so close."

"I shouldn't have even tried," Loki snapped gruffly. Naomi felt that jab, but with a sigh his tone calmed again. He seemed too exhausted to even be irritated anymore. "It wasn't your fault, I'm sorry."

"Maybe I should hide in the bathroom for the rest of eternity," she drawled quietly. "It'd probably be better for the both of us." He might have laughed, but it was a very sharp – very pain-filled sound. All humor left her voice then. "Could you feel that?" He was quiet, but in her periphery she saw his fingers brush his lips, the longing more than evident in his sigh.

"More than before. So much more."

Naomi felt a wave of anguish rush up recalling his smile from only moments ago. And now this. "Promise me you won't do that again."

Loki said nothing. She glared at him over her shoulder, her hands aggressively fiddling with the hem of her shorts. "I'm not a fucking magician, Loki. I can't save you. That's a favor I don't think I can return."

"I know," he said finally.

"It's not like I don't want this. You know I would give almost anything, but it's not worth this. I will not watch you die, Loki. I won't."

"And what would you have me do?"

"Wait. Just wait." Loki growled, his spine straightening against the glass. Naomi half turned to see him over her shoulder. "You've been so patient with me. I doubted that you could be for a time – because you're impulsive and stupid sometimes, but we're still here. I'm still alive – you're still alive. And – there are worse things than this," she replied definitively. "And seeing how our options are slim otherwise, I am choosing to be confident that an opportunity will present itself."

"I have been sentenced to rot down here for eternity," he said with a disbelieving laugh. "We will both of us be dead before opportunity presents itself."

As if on cue, the doors atop the stairs unlatched, the sound of metal on stone reverberating across the chamber. Naomi strained her eyes in the darkness to see who it might be this time. Her stomach knotted to even think about it. But the step was light and Loki seemed to have a better idea who it was. He struggled momentarily to get to his feet. Once he was up, he moved much easier, but not without an obvious tinge of pain. And not without a few drops of blood still smeared on his chin. "Mother." He approached her at the quickest pace he could manage, finally meeting her at the glass. His eyes had never looked so pleading. "I had hoped you would come."

"I will always come," Naomi heard her say as she returned to her feet. This woman was beautifully aged, clad in garb that looked like royalty. And she never would have guessed by her stunning blue eyed gaze or her tightly curled golden hair that this was the woman he called mother, but Loki did not shun her. He didn't greet her with contempt or irritation. She was used to his somber expression but this was different. And in his mother's weary and worried smile, she saw a relationship carved from eons of conflict – in her she saw a foothold in the world that Loki had long given up on.

She said something else to Loki that Naomi hadn't caught, just as her gaze fell upon her. It was almost as piercing as his. She could feel herself being read up and down in a matter of seconds and all the while this woman – his mother – was entirely unreadable. "So it is true?" she said finally. Loki briefly glanced at her over his shoulder with this look like the cat was out of the bag. And yet, she didn't feel caught. Not the way she continued to stare, her eyes traveling between the two of them. Somehow it seemed she understood.

"That all depends on what you've heard," Loki replied smoothly.

"I feel better knowing your actions are more to do with her," she said quietly. "Than for the general sake of mischief. Very clever of you to find a way around your father's enchantment. But you know I cannot condone it. You directly disobeyed him – risked your life in the process." Her hands twiddled busily in her sleeves, restraining the urge to wipe the blood from his chin. "Why?" she asked thoughtfully, her voice stern and demanding. Naomi imagined she could make this liar tell the truth, even when it so often eluded him.

"She was left here to die. What else could I do? In spite of the front I often hold, I couldn't sit here and watch her die. What would you have done?" His mother didn't answer, but she smiled, silently grateful for his decision. "Do you know why she's here?"

She shook her head, glancing at Naomi again. "I have my suspicions same as you do."

Loki frowned. "Odin?"

"He's had something on his mind for a long time, Loki. And I don't know what it is, but I fear it concerns you. Perhaps you as well," she said looking into the other cell before retuning her attention to her son. "But he won't speak of it. And he knows of all this – what's transpired down here – someone has brought it to his attention, though I don't know whom."

Loki growled. "That guard – he'll pay for his treasonous tongue."

Naomi's stomach turned uncomfortably.

"And that's another matter," his mother continued. "While I can accept and do in fact appreciate whole-heartedly what you have done for this young woman, I do not approve of your decision to kill him."

"I was protecting her!"

"Through unnecessary bloodshed."

Naomi, now thoroughly nauseated, was staring at the blood that still stained her side of the cell. The drips on the glass. The dried pool on the floor. She'd done well to ignore them thus far. But the guard – he must have returned for her as he had promised. But Loki never said – he didn't speak of it. She thought she might be sick, imagining what Loki had done. She had only an inkling of what he was capable of, but it was enough to make her nervous. Her hands fidgeted with one another, her fingers losing circulation as she wound them into the hem of Loki's knit shirt.

"He raped her," Loki spat. "And he received exactly what he deserved."

His mother frowned but never broke her son's livid gaze. "I understand," she said quietly, "but death doesn't solve everything. A life for a life is not always the answer. None of this bodes well for either of you. And you know your father is not pleased."

"Of course, he's not pleased," Loki growled. "I couldn't please that man if my damn life depended on it."

"Loki, please. You must understand that you've put him in a difficult position."

"He disowned me!" Loki nearly screamed. "You are the only reason I am even alive – that is what he said to me. My homecoming would have been a public execution if not for you. I couldn't possibly care less of his satisfaction." He stomped off, his weight still favoring one side more than the other.

His mother glanced in Naomi's direction again, her eyes cool and calculating. Calming in some weird way. "What's your name dear?"

"Naomi." Her voice shook a bit more than she wanted.

She turned back to Loki, that stern mom look suddenly very prominent. "Does Naomi mean something to you?"

Loki dropped his gaze as if he was being scolded. He watched the ground for a long time, teeth clenched, his pacing halted by a question that demanded reply. But it was like pulling teeth. "Yes," he said finally, the tiny word a rumble in his chest.

"Then perhaps you should reconsider. You know as well as I that he will take her away from you. Just as easily as he brought her here." Loki had a possessive look in his eyes that nearly startled her. But somehow it made her feel safer. "Your father and I approach conflict in very different ways and it breaks my heart of late to see how hard he's been on you. He's been blinded in more ways than one, I fear. I don't know what's going to happen, but it will be soon. I have no doubt. I came only to warn you and to see that you were safe."

"Thank you." His expression relaxed and he moved toward her again. "Thank you for coming down here."

She smiled and touched her hand to the glass where she might have cupped his cheek. The barrier hummed but it didn't open to her. "I will always come." But there was still Loki's indefinite sense of disbelief. "I foresee a better future, Loki. I really do. But you need to be careful. Several steps ahead, yes?" Loki nodded, but he didn't appear to share her optimism. "I'll see you again soon."

She departed as swiftly as she had come, leaving a whirlwind of confusion in her wake. In her head, Naomi was slowly assembling a picture – putting the puzzle together. So far, it was looking sickeningly grim. Her childhood had grown rather rosy in comparison.

Loki stared long after she'd gone, like part of his mind had floated off to another surrogate body somewhere. Naomi's mind, on the other hand, was stuck in a very different rut. Her eyes were once again glued to the scarlet smear. She went to it, her bare feet cautious to be anywhere near it. But soon she stood where her attacker probably stood – where her attacker probably died. She imagined the blood escaping him from somewhere – leaking – pouring. Her eyes followed the trail up the glass, trying – and not trying – to figure out where it had come from. She was startled when she found Loki standing there all of the sudden, his cool green eyes watching her.

"He came for you again," Loki admitted sourly. "And I did what I should have done the first time – long before he had the chance to harm you."

"You killed him?"

He didn't smile, though she half expected him to. Instead, he just nodded, slow and solemn. He ran a hand through his long, unruly hair as a quiet sigh escaped him. "I feel so protective of you – possessive. I've had to fight for everything I've had in life, because the moment I don't, someone steals it away." All of the sudden, Naomi missed his embrace so intensely. But they stood apart, he and she and the pane of glass. "I won't come into your cell again," he said quietly "But I promised I would protect you, Naomi, and I will do so no matter the cost."

Nearing the end now… sort of? maybe. But next chapter… shit's going down. Just putting it out there.

Oh and if anyone was wondering, the poem was Desiderata (but you smart people probably knew that already). P.S. If you haven't heard Tom read said poem… you haven't lived.