When they explained her part, Sif had to smile ruefully. "So. My part is to keep Thor delayed from returning to the city until three days from now," she repeated. "While, in the meantime, you have given the Vanir queen the final push into challenging our king? How is this a good idea? She has three packs of Siege Wolves."

Sigyn sat on a rock, looking tense. Her gaze flicked to her husband, who shook his head minutely. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "No, Lok', we're not keeping this from her. Not when it's something that we may need someone else to verify later," she said. "Before we parted ways, Loki cast a spell on me. It belongs to the same family class as that of the spell that Odin used to transform our son into a White Alpha. Because I share direct blood with one such wolf, the spell allowed the Siege Wolves to recognize me as one of their Alpha's."

Understanding flared through her eyes as Sif began to chuckle. "You don't intend to allow the Vanir to keep their current packs. With Fenrir at your side, their wolves would find it hard to resist the both of you."

Sigyn smiled. "Exactly. I'll give her an Alpha from one of her volunteers, but Angrboda won't be able to call on a full pack for a few decades since the transformation usually kills even a willing warrior. By that point, we'll have worked out a decent defense for Thor to implement in case the Vanir get any ideas again. They'll never get this kind of chance again."

And, well, wasn't that just a satisfied smile, Sif couldn't help but note as she returned the grin. Apparent betrayal or not, Sif was content in the knowledge that they were aiming to push Thor onto the throne. Odin had, after all, never truly had any interest in the common welfare of his kingdom beyond making sure things were running smoothly, but Thor had. Thor had always been the one to slip away from the palace with her and the Warriors Three and find one of the local taverns and simply sit there for hours drinking and talking with the merchants and other non-warrior classes. Wise or not, she couldn't see how Thor could do any worse than his father before him.

Heimdall was watching the trio closely and listening to every word spokenas their plans unfolded. For a moment, his gaze turned to the Allfather and his court and uncertainty flickered through him. How far could duty to the throne drag him from his family? His gaze turned to Thor and the hundred-odd prisoners they had rescued. Their's was a slow moving group with the various wounds that each had sustained, but move they did with Hogun as their guide towards the last place he had met with Heimdall.

A flicker of movement on the tail end of their large group had Heimdall scanning the area beyond them. A pack of Siege wolves and their thirty-odd handlers were tracking them. So, Angrboda had not yet given up on her war, despite what Sigyn had offered. Under Heimdall's watch a small group of warriors was sent to join their prince and to take care of the Vanir that dared threaten them. Perhaps one final lesson was needed before this war had seen its end.

"And how am I supposed to delay Thor from immediately setting out to the city, knowing the two of you are going to be there? Fighting, at that? You know how he is," Sif said carefully. An idea was already forming in her mind about how she would delay him, but she needed her own brother for it. Sigyn just looked amused, though she was still tense. "Sigyn?"

She smiled slightly and Loki glanced at her. "Your brother is watching us with great interest," she said.

"You aren't…shielding against him? I thought you always did," Sif said.

Sigyn glanced at Loki and this time didn't say anything when he shook his head minutely. She did, though, cock her head and raise her eyebrows in a way that made him sigh and glance towards Asgard's mountains. "It is intentional," Loki supplied. "We do not, after all, wish to be hunted once this is done. And I am not intending to kill anyone, just make him understand what he put our children through. Once the anchors for the spells break, he'd be more than free to go where he pleases." Of course, he didn't mention that the spells he had used would drain one's magic and use that as a source of power as well, and even if the spells did break, the planet's atmosphere was still highly poisonous. Odin might not die from exposure to the atmosphere, but he wasn't going anywhere with his body constantly torn between disintegrating and regeneration. He would be a prisoner on that planet until the sun swallowed it whole.

Before Sif could ask another question, Sigyn's features shut down as she turned her gaze to a glade not far from where they had teleported in. Loki's body language shifted from guarded to hostile as he followed her gaze, but Sigyn rose in a fluid motion and caught his wrist before he could cast a spell. "Take Sif to Heimdall. Please, Loki," she added softly when he looked at her. "Let me handle this. They usually mean me no harm." It wasn't the first time that a number of the Vanir had sought her out and it wouldn't be the last time. Angrboda was, after all, the usurper.

Reversing her grip on him, he pulled her in close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her body as he towered over her. She tilted her head back, a crooked smile touching her lips. "If they so much as breathe wrong, I will incinerate them and scatter their ashes across the nine realms for Death to feast on."

"I would expect no less from you, love," she said, kissing him lightly before he released her.

Sif stared at the glade as four shapes slowly emerged from the shadows. Two were that of Siege Wolves. Before she could protest, Loki's hand had wrapped around her wrist and then she was falling, falling through the cracks again. When she stumbled into the bright sunlight, gasping and trying to pull from Loki, she glimpsed only a moment of the fury that was written across his features before he vanished again. Around her, there rose a great many voices as she finally registered that there was others there with her.

When he left, the Siege Wolves and their handlers stepped into the sunlight where she could make out their features. The wolves fur was both a deep shade of mahogany and their handlers looked almost like twins. For a moment, she thought she recognized them, then the pseudo-memory faded. Theirs were the features commonly associated with the Vanir of high-cheekbones, sharply angled features, and dark hair. It was their eyes that made her shiver and take a step back. White and glazed, they were the mark of those possessed. Alright, not what she had been expecting.

"Sister of the fallen realms. Daughter to king. We come in warning," they said, their voices echoing eerily around the glade until the words repeated themselves with more than two voices. Suddenly, the sun was not so warm against her skin. "For soul divine, where hearts entwine, the price of time will be paid dear."

She took another step back and a strong arm wrapped around her waist to pull her against cool warmth. The familiar scent of leather and pine told her that her husband had returned even before his free arm extended over her shoulder alight with the flame of untamed magic. "Urðr, Verðandi, Skuld. Your hands are not welcome here. There is no fate to set, no price to take. Leave, now," Loki snarled. "We've no interest in what it is you are offering."

Anxiously, the wolves whined and pressed against the legs of their handlers, but there was no response from the Vanir except an identical, cold smile. "A bargain was struck, two hundred years before for the end of time to be delayed. Allfather, Asgardian King, made that bargain with us. The hearts entwined divided for the sake of all. Shatter the bargain and the price of time held most dear would be the price that you will pay. We come now in warning, to tell of price to be paid. Take your revenge and stay the debt. We give you that before we take."

Silence and wind swept through the clearing where they stood. The trees shivered and swayed around them. She could feel Loki shaking slightly with anger and fear. The Fates, after all, had never been defeated, never challenged, and never defied. "You cannot take what I will not give," Sigyn said. "We'll settle our debts with blood and bone. Kin shall return to kin and you shall not have him. Touch him, in any way, take from us what we do not give and we bring Ragnarok. End of time, end of all. Touch him and you will regret."

"You are not strong enough to resist."

She shrugged one shoulder and twined her fingers through his. "What is mine is his and his is mine. Memories, love, life, children, and magic we share. Take what we do not give and I break the link, I bring Ragnarok. He will bring Ragnarok. Forget not what you yourselves foretold of the end of time."

"Then we take-"

"No," Loki said flatly and his arm tightened around her. His arm extended over her shoulder blazed with such magic that the handlers took an automatic step back. "Heart and life we share. You take from her, you take from me. We are the bringers of Ragnarok without the other."

"We hold your Fate," they hissed.

"Ragnarok cannot be stopped or altered or changed," Sigyn pressed. "Take one from the other and the magic shatters with our sanity. Even you cannot undo the binding that we did without causing the end of all creation and that is something that you know to fear."

They considered that for a moment. Then, "A bargain was stuck and a price is to be paid. It is how we feed, so name a different price to be paid. Name a price you are willing to part with."

"If you take from kith or kin, we fight and you lose either way," Loki said. "So take from us a revenge, something we have worked towards for more than a handful of years. It is the tiling of blood and debt, sorrow and hate. Take from us the prize we seek at the end of suffering and endless nights of pain. Take from us the satisfaction and celebration of fear released."

They could almost hear the thoughts running through the minds of the three Fates, but it was still a tense moment of silence that settled over them again. When they spoke, it was a thoughtful echo that they heard in those voices. "We take from you the potent emotions invoked by that of Skurge. Your fear, your hate, we take from you the root for your revenge. The memories and knowledge of events you keep. Your child, you keep," they said slowly as shadowy tendrils wrapped around Loki and Sigyn's legs, twining around them until they reached Sigyn's shoulders. The magic sank in like icy knives, making them both gasp and hold tighter to each other. "From Skurge, we shall take the price of time once lived and make him cease to be. His love, his lust, his potent hate, we take for ours to feast upon. A shell he is, a shell he will remain."

Memories flashed before Sigyn's eyes alongside the nightmares and the phantom touches that had once been Skurge's. Everything compressed into that second, that minute, that moment and made her knees go weak as her stomach roiled and she closed her eyes tightly against the sensation. She wasn't aware of fainting, but when she next opened her eyes the sun was warm against her skin and she could feel the familiar sensation of Loki's magic coursing through her like the best of wines.

Releasing a shuddering breath, she tried to straighten, but Loki's arms closed tighter around her. She slid one arm around his neck and realized that they were sitting on the forest floor. She could feel him, just slightly, still trembling like he was cold. "You clever bastard. If I didn't love you before, I would now," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "One foe gone, two left."

He blinked and relaxed his grip on her. Cradling her weight against his leg and arm, he let the spell run its course and tell him exactly what he had already known. She was alive and healthy. There no lingering ill effects and…he took another look…the siphon had broken. Her magic was returning at a steady pace, replenishing itself and seeking out the corners and crevices of her body that it inhabited.

"You shouldn't have done that," he said and it came out a low snarl. He hadn't realized he was still so very angry-with the Fates, with Odin, and, yes, even with her. "It was a foolish thing to do, challenging them like that. They were here for-"

"-your memories of our marriage," she finished coolly. "They sustain themselves on moments that have already been lived and leave their victim nothing more than a walking husk. It wouldn't have taken your magic, but you would no longer have been the husband that I love. I would have broken the bond between our magic to bring Ragnarok, because there will never be a day that I will not love you and wish for your chaotic nature at my side."

"You still should not have done it," he said, softer this time.

"What? Claim you? Too bad, I did that a thousand-odd-years ago," she said. She paused before adding, "This is just one more reason to hate him, isn't it? Bargaining with our lives and memories like they were his to do so."

"I wouldn't be surprised if they had come for him and he turned them at us," he sighed. "But, yes, just one more reason to hate. At the least, though, we are one enemy down when we hunt Amora."

To that Sigyn just grunted. "Oh, no worries there, husband mine. She'll find some new toy or other to amuse herself with until we find her. We'll just have to hope that it isn't Bruce Banner," she sighed.

He grimaced. "I hadn't thought of that, but what's done is done," he said.

"And better Skurge than us," she chuckled, momentarily tightening her own grip on him.

Two realms away, in the blackness of night, a single scream was heard before silence reigned. Though the flesh remained, when Amora found him the next morning nothing of the man would be left. A walking, breathing husk of meat and muscle was all that was left of her once-more or less-faithful companion. The uses she would find for that husk were another matter entirely. Several plans were altered and rewritten, a more thoughtful approach taken to one, and the final goal smoothed over once more.

Heimdall released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding when the Fates returned their hosts to the main Vanir camp. He watched just long enough to See Sigyn stir before he turned to his own sister and nodded. "They are well," he said, deciding to mention nothing of what had actually occurred. Sif looked at him and he knew the question before she asked it. Duty to the throne or duty to his people? He'd known the answer when he had informed Thor of his sister's continued existence when he should have first spoken to his king.

"Will you help me with this?"

"Yes. He is a half days march away," he said and she smiled as she never had before.

He didn't bother to rise as he wove the spell around them to take them to a place where he knew was safe to wait, where his spells were anchored in such a way that they were permanent. It was a place he had established for himself in her absence, somewhere that no one would know to look for him. Then, between one moment and the next they were falling, falling through time and space until a room resolved itself around them. It wasn't spacious or anything overly decorated. There was only a bed, a desk, a chair, and books of varying subjects set into the shelves carved into the walls.

She was looking around with interest and he could feel the back of his neck slowly heating up under her continued silence. Was there something missing? Should he have thought to decorate? Why was he suddenly so self-conscious about this place? It wasn't as though this were the first time he had brought her to a place that he had built with the sole intention of privacy and protection. It served its purpose and that was good enough.

Sigyn looked at him sidelong with a smile tugging at her lips. "This is new," she said. "It's not a place of yours I've seen before." She nodded at the books. "Those are from your room in the palace, yes?" He only nodded and she rose from his side to approach them. When she started to arrange them into an order that she liked, he couldn't have said that he was surprised. She had, after all, done much the same the first time that he had brought her to his rooms in the palace. As she moved through their familiar routines, he found himself slowly relaxing his stance. The books were sorted, the clothes were put away, unspoiled food hunted out, and things tweaked until it was something they both liked.

By the time she had finished, he had to blink at realizing she had maneuvered him into the chair by the desk and a plate of food had appeared at his elbow. Quill and paper had been stacked neatly behind him-something he didn't remember doing the last time he had been there-and she had selected a book before settling herself on the bed. Tilting his head, he was amused to find that it was one of the few novels that he had brought with him. Renegade Star was worn in the spine and one that seemed to follow him wherever he went. It also wasn't one that he read regularly, so…

"You spelled it to follow me, didn't you?"

When she tilted the edge of the book down a little, he could see the amusement flickering through her gaze beneath the thinning worry. "Three hundred years later and you finally notice? Yes, love, this is a favorite book of mine when you get agitated. I spelled it so that I have it to occupy my hands so that I'm not fussing over you," she said and he could only smile ruefully. She deliberately turned a page and, still smiling at him, looked back at the book.

"You're doing this intentionally," he said and her eyes flicked up again.

Settling the book in her lap, she smiled at him. "And you're not eating or turning your mind to your most recent project. What was the last thing you were working on? A shield spell that could reverse an attack back onto its caster with the idea that it could trace the life force signature back to its source?"

His lips curved into a half smile at the obvious attempt to draw his mind away from what had happened with the Fates, but the draw of talking her through one of his spells was too tempting to resist. "That is an oversimplification of the workings for that particular spell…" he began as he launched into an explanation of what results his project had produced.

By the time that he had her throwing offensive spells at him, he had almost forgotten the Fates. When she progressed to using the new shield spell herself, he actually had forgotten what they were waiting for until she called a halt to their practice. With sweat still clinging to her hair and skin, she dropped the spell to twine her fingers through his. A small surge from her and the magic he had been gathering for another spell fizzled out between them in a burst of sparks.

"Anymore practice and I won't have enough power left for tomorrow or the day after when Angrboda holds her end," she said at his questioning look. Her cheeks were still flushed with the exertion and her eyes were starting to light up when she suddenly smiled and used their clasped hands to draw herself up against him. "We're close, so very close to the end, Loki. We're almost free." When he kissed her, it wasn't the rushed, hungry, desperate way that he had in the weeks before. This time it was something that he drew out and savored, something that felt like it could sustain them.

The forest was different. Scents that had not been there before were shifting through the air. The leaves stirred differently, against the wind, and the moon rippled like an illusion. His nose twitched with everything that he could breathe in and his hackles rose as the scent of one that was familiar, too familiar filled the air. Enemy and desecrator of blood. Tormentor of dame and prey.

When he moved, he moved towards the scent on paws that were silent in their tread. If the enemy had finally come to him, then it was time to hunt. With the feeling of his dame's presence in his mind, he growled softly and crouched low to the ground. One last hunt, one more kill. If that was all he had left, then it would be his best.

"Fenrir!" his dame screamed, her voice shaded by dream and the echoes between their realities. He paused, but only for a moment and then she was gone. Just as well. Perhaps it was best that she not be with him in the moment of a kill.

She jerked awake at the feeling of a hand against her skin, a cry broken off on her lips. Eyes wide, hands gripped around the material of the sheets, she realized that it was Loki's form and weight above her. His arms formed a semi cage around her, his fingers gripped tightly around her wrists-had she tried to cast? There was a light in the room now, casting flickering shadows across his drawn, worried features.

"Sigyn?" he asked and it was barely a whisper.

"We have to go. It's happening now. Odin is unraveling the spell. We have to go," she said and he released her-no questions, no demands for answers. There was a flurry of movement, clothes hastily found, spells cast in the half-darkness, and then she was in his arms and they were falling, falling through the cracks of space and reality, headed for something unknown, a situation they had not planned for and it was fear that touched them, that sharpened their senses that night and it was, perhaps, the only thing that saved them.

A/N: Thank you to my new Favorites/Followers and thank you to my reviewers: Achlys, Frostfire613, Maia,2 no-MY name's Anonymous, wbss21, and Ynath Esrith.

Also, there is a poll posted on my profile page. The answers my have an impact on a second or shorter story for The Debt Repaid. Do note that it will have absolutely no effect on this current project.